Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.

Scene 27.

Enter Doctor Freedom, and Madamosel Doltche, Madamosel Solid, Madamosel Volante.

Solid.

O, you are welcome, Doctor Freedom.

Doctor.

If I be not welcome now, I shall never be welcome.

Volante.

Why, Doctor? what Present have you brought us? that can make you so acceptable, is it perpetual youth, or undeniable beauty, or ever∣lasting life? But prethee, Doctor, what is it that will make thee so wel∣come?

Doctor.

Why, my self; here being so many young Ladies together, and not a man amongst them.

Volante.

Thy self, Doctor! why, thou art not worth the dregs of an Uri∣nal, of a sick water, if it were not for our charity, and generosity, more than thy merit, ability or service, you would have but a cold entertainment, and a rule welcome.

Doctor.

Well, my young, wity, saterycal Patient, you will take a surfeit of fruit, milk, puddings, pyes, or sweet-meats, one of these dayes, and then you will flatter me.

Volante.

You say right, Doctor; but now I speak truth, and is not that better than to flatter, or dissemble; For there is none but sick, and deprav'd souls, that will deliver Truth with a quarter, half, or three quartred face, like Merchants, or mechanick, that would sell off their ill commodities, with a broken light, but a noble and healthfull soul, shews the full face of Truth, in a clear light; wherefore, the sick and base, will flatter, but the noble and free, will speak truth.

Doctor.

VVell, I am sure you think better of me in your thoughts, than your words expresses.

Volante.

Let me tell you, my words and thoughts, are so well acquainted, as they never dissemble, and there is such a friendship betwixt them, as they never move several wayes, but runs even together: But let me tell thee, Do∣ctor, I have such a spleen to thy Sex, as I desire to kill them, at least, to wound them with spitefull words; and I wish I had beauty enough for to damn them, causing them to be perjured, by forsaking other women, they were bound by sacred vows, and holy bonds.

Enter Monsieur Discretion.

Discretion.

It is well, Master Doctor, that you can be priviledg'd amongst the young Ladyes, at all times, when such as I, that have not your Profession, are oftentimes shut, and lockt out.

Doctor.

Faith, if you have no better entertainment, than I have had since I came, it were better you were from them, than with them, for their tongues are as sharp as needles.

Volante.

'Tis a sign we want work, when we are forc'd to stitch our wit upon you.

Discretion.

How dare you anger the Doctor, when your life lyes upon his skill.

Volante.

O! His skill lyes upon chance, and it is a chance, whether he kills, or cures, is it not, Doctor?

Doctor.

No, for I can kill my Patients, when I will, although not cure them, when I will.

Volante.

VVell, then, Doctor, when I would dye, I will send for you, but not when I would live.

Discretion.

Your Servant, Ladies.

Monsieur Discretion goeth out.

Doctor.

Good Lady Wit, follow Monsieur Discretion, he will make you a wise Lady, and make your wit discreet, as it should be.

Volante.

O Doctor! how you mistake, for wit cannot be made, it is a Creator, and not a Creature; for wit was the first Master, or Mistress of Arts; the first Husband-man, Granger, Gardiner, Carver, Painter, Graver, Caster and Moulder, Mason, Joyner Smith, Brasier, Glazier, the first Chand∣ler, Vintener, Brewer, Baker, Cook, Confectioner, the first Spinster, VVeaver, Knitter, Tayler, Shoo-maker, and millions the like; also wit was the first Navigator, Architector, Mathematician, Logitian, Geometrician, Cosmo∣grafir, Astronomer, Astrologer, Philosopher, Poet, Historian and Hearold; also wit made the first Common-wealth, invented Laws for Peace, Arms for VVars, Ceremonies for State and Religion; also musick, dancing, dressing, masking, playing for delight and pleasure; wit divides time, imployes time, prevents time, and provides for time; it makes Heavens, and Hells, Gods and Divels.

Doctor.

VVell, go thy wayes, for though thou hast a heavenly mind, and an angelical beauty, yet thou hast a devilish wit,

Volante.

It shall be sure to torment thee, Doctor, but do you hear, Doctor? pray present my service to Monsieur Discretion, and tell him, it was a signe he lik'd not our company, he made so short a stay.

Doctor.

He perceived by your usage of me, that if he stayd, you would beat him out of your company, with your two edged tongues; but I will tell him what a Rallery you are.

Volante.

I hope you will give me a good report, for I have fully charged you.

Doctor.

You have over-charged me, and therefore it is likely I shall break into exclamations.

Ex.