Page 9
Act 1. Scen. 5.
Still my Stomack is upon a blab∣bing account, it utters all: It disburses faster than it receives: I think my Vomit will never leave giving, till it gives up sto∣mack and all. I mixt it very high, and it works accordingly.
And my Belly tumbles and tum∣bles without end, after this puissant Chy∣mical Purge: I fear, I shall purge my guts forth. Certainly, I was full of Devotion: I had more matter in me than I was aware of: O, I must go.
The Lawyer has a motion. This fals right: Now we cannot jarre in con∣test for precedency: the place is peacea∣bly deliver'd up to me: and I will not dis∣band, or give a pass to the present opportu∣nity.
Good Sir, speak not except your business be both weighty and godly; I am engag'd in my Devotions.
A Maid as fair as may be, as fair as May is, as fair as a Morning in May: I am sorry shee's bookish: yet our most free, blith and buxom Girls here, expose com∣monly a godly Book on the Cupbards head in their Chambers, where they continually sacrifice to Venus. Sweet Maid, are you the Lady of this fair Building? If it were assig∣ned to the fairest of Maids, it would be yours.
Sir, I may not dispense with my mouth to answer your vain and imperti∣nent discourse otherwise than thus: You stile me Sweet; this Book is sweeter than all Nature's Wardrobe of sweet things; and for the fair building, this little Book builds fairer. The fairest of Maids is Ver∣tue; here she dwels, and here.
This Maid transports me. Sweet and fair, beyond compare.
I beseech you, Sir, be not grievous to me.
The Musick invites me: I must sit down, hood mine eyes, and set my thoughts flying upon high things, with my Arms pleated in this devout Knot.
Having transported me, her self is now transported.
Sans doubt, this holy Creature lives many degrees above mortality.
I have met with one in History, that de∣sired, and very much endeavoured to see himself sleep; but could never bring both ends of his desire together. Such a sleep as this in such a Creature, would keep me a∣wake without sleeping.
O, I am heart-sick still. And no marvel: For the Intention of the Vomit was, to fetch all Devotion out of my heart. But the sight of this pretty Heart somwhat eases my dull heart, and relieves me. Sleeps she?
No. She meditates.
I have been so liberal in purging, that I am perswaded I have left my Soul behind me: O my sweet Soul, Have I then lost thee?
Your Soul is not so sweet, if you have left it behind you. Look hither, Law∣yer, the sweet Soul's before you.