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

About this Item

Title
Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.
Author
Newcastle, Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of, 1624?-1674.
Publication
London :: Printed by A. Warren, for John Martyn, James Allestry, and Tho. Dicas ...,
1662.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A53060.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A53060.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 17, 2024.

Pages

Scene 21.
Enter Madamosel Solid, Madamosel Doltche, Madamosel Vo∣lante, and a Grave Matron.
MAtron.

Madamosel Solid, what say you to Monsieur Ralleries wit?

Solid.

I say of him, as I would of a wild or skittish jade, who hath only strength to kick and fling, but not to travel, or to bear any weight; so Rallerie, is antick postures, and laughing reproaches, not solid and judicious discourses, or continued speeches, the truth is, a ralleying wit, is like ob∣structed, or corrupted lungs, which causes difficult, and short breathing; So that wit, is short and pussing, spurting out words, questions and replyes; 'tis squib wit, or boys sport

Page 100

Matron.

Madamosel Doltche, what say you of Monsieur Satericals wit?

Doltche.

As I would of frosty weather; his wit is sharp, but wholesome, and though he hath a frowning brow, yet he hath a clear soul.

Matron.

Madamosel Volante, What say you of Monsieur Pedants wit.

Volante.

As I would of Leeches; for as Leeches sucks bloud from the back parts of men, and spues it forth, when rubb'd with salt; so Monsieur Pedant sucks wit from other mens pens, and mouths, and then spues it sorth again; being rubb'd with the itch of prayse; But all the learned knows, the wit was no more his own, than the bloud that was suck'd, was the Lee∣ches.

Matron.

What say you of Monsieur Lyricks wit?

Volante.

As I would of a Bird, that chirps more than sings.

Matron.

Madamosel Doltche, What say you of Monsieur Tragedians wit?

Doltche.

As I would of Winter, wherein is more rain than Sun-shines, more storms than calms, more night than day; so his wit, hath more melan∣cholly than mirth, causing, or producing tears, sighs and sadnesse; the truth is, his wit dwels in the shades of death.

Matron.

Madamosel Solid, what say you to Monsieur Comicals wit?

Solid.

As I would of the Spring, which revives, and refreshes the life of every thing, it is lightsom and gay; So Monsieur Comicals wit is chearfull, pleasant, lively, natural and profitable, as being edifying.

Ex.
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