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

ACT III.

Scene 8.

Enter the Lady Innocence and her Maid.

MAid.

By my truth Mistriss the Lord de l' Amour is a fine person.

Lady Innocence.

The truth is, that he seems as if Nature had given to time the finest and richest stuff in her Shop, to make his person off, and time as the Tayler hath wrought and shapt his person into the most becom∣ing fashion; but yet, if his Soul be not answerable to his person, he is sine no otherwayes; but as a fashionable and gay sute of Cloath on a deformed body, the Cloathes may be fine and hansome, but the body ill favoured; so the body may be hansome, but the Soul a foul deformed creature.

Maid.

But a fine and hansome body may hide a deformed Soul, although a fine sute of Clothes will not hide a deformed body; for a deformed body will be perceived in dispight of the fine Clothes.

Lady Innocence

So will a deformed Soul in the dispight of a hansome body, for the Soul will appear in the Actions, as the body in the shape; being as crooked in vice as the body in Limbs.

Maid.

What is the actions of the Soul?

Lady Innocence.

The passions and will.

Maid.

But man obscures the passions and restrains the will.

Lady Innocence.

So man may obscure his body, and bombast his Cloathes; but it is as impossible to restrain an evil will, as to make a crooked body straight.

Ex.

Scene 9.

Enter Sir Thomas Father Love, bringing in the Auditours into a large roome, nobly furnished, where at one end or side is a place raised and railed with guilt rayles; for the Lady Sanspareille to stand on.

FAther Love.

Gentlemen, pray do not think me rude by drawing you from your serious studies, by an intruding invitation; to hear a young student discourse.

1. Philosopher.

'Tis true Sir, we should have been glad to have heard you discourse, for you might instruct us, where as a young student is rather to be instructed; for it is time that brings knowledg or gets wit, or speakes elo∣quently.

Father Love.

'Tis true, but yet in some naturall ingenuity it is as strong as time, and produceth that which time of it selfe could not do.

2. Philosopher.

Sir, if your young students wit, be as fine as her standing place, it will be delightfull.

3. Philosopher.

Sir, you have adorned her Theater to inthrone her wit.

Father.

Gentlemen. I wish her wit may furnish, and so adorn your under∣standing, but if you please to sit, such as it is, shall be presented to you.

Being all placed, the Lady Sanspereille enters upon the mounted place, drest all in black; fit for the gravity of the Company.

The Company upon her entrance seems to be struck with amaze of her beauty, they speak to her Father.

1. Philosopher.

Sir, we perceive now, you have invited us to feast our eyes, not our eares.

Father.

Gentlemen, if you please to give her so much patience to hear her, then judge, or censure, as you please.

Then they all cry Whist, Whist.

After the Lady by her Civill bows had given respect to all the Company, with a modest and amiable Countenance, with a gentle and well pleased eye, and a gracefull and winning behaviour, thus speaks.

Lady Sanspareile.

The Majesty of Age, and sage gravity, are objects able to put unexperienced and unpracticed youth out of Countenance; and bash∣fullness is the greatest enemy to discourse, for it discomposes the Counte∣nance, disturbes the thoughts, disorders the words, and confounds the sence therein; but youth hath many times this advantage, that it apprehends not the disgrace, that experienced years and deeper judgment doth; For the truth is, bashfullness proceeds from too great an apprehension; but I not appre∣hending far enough, may comit errours through a confident ignorance, but if you think my confidence too much, for my youth; yet pray judge not my modesty to litle for my Sex, for speaking belongs as much to the Female Sex as to the Masculine; so as it be on sober Subjects, and to grave Fathers, and wise men, or intruth to any degree of Age, or Sex, or Birth; so as it be timely, suitably, rationably, and modestly delivered; And why may not women speak in publick and to publick assemblies, as well as in privat visits, and particular entertainments, and to particular persons and acquaintance? And in reason it should be more commendable, that womens discourse and actions are such, as they fear no witness. Nay, they ought never to speak or shew themselves to those persons that are not domestick, without sufficient witness, for privat discourses, which are like whisperings, and secret meetings, and particular en∣tertainments, are subject to loos customs, rude behaviours, and lascivious dis∣courses, mischievous designes, and dangerous plots, all which takes leave without warrant, and assaults without warning; yet it is probable this Audi∣tory will think my Father is too indulgent to his Child, to let her to make publick Orations, or that he is too vain glorious, as to believe or hope his Child may get applause, or esteem in the world, by her discourses. But First, I must remember them, that it is naturall for Parents to be fond of their Children; Secondly, it is no crime nor indiscretion, for a Father to believe or think his Child may have as much wit as any other mans Child, if he have given as good education: Thirdly, it is not against nature and reason, but

that women may discourse of several subjects as well as men, and that they may have as probable opinions, and as profitable inventions, as fresh fancies, as quick wits, and as easy expressions, as men; if their education be answe∣rable to their naturall capacityes and ingenuityes; As for my selfe, I must tell this assembly, I have been bred industriously, for I have been instructed with as much knowledg as my yeares was capable to understand; but the truth is, that my educatours strove to ripen my understanding, before the naturall time, like those that hastens fruit to be ripe, forcing it by artificiall means, not staying for the naturall heat of the Sun, so was my understanding, like as the tree, and my wit as the fruit, by which it wants the Aromaticall, and delicious relish, that naturall time gives; which makes me fear, my wit will relish to the eares of the hearers, as such forced fruits to the tast of the eaters: I have only this request, that, though you may dislike it for want of the naturall sweetness; yet pray esteem of it for the rarity, as being not usuall for one of my years and Sex, to speak, argue, and make Orations in a publick assembly; but it is likely, this assembly may think this is a vain glorious Prologue, to my following discourse; But I must tell this worthy, grave, and learned, assem∣bly, that I am not bound to follow a vain custome, nay, I may say, a dishonest one, as when Oratours do dissemble, as on my Conscience most do, selfe love being naturall to all; besides, many times they disgrace their birth, by a dis∣sembling humbleness, and bely their thoughts, knowledge and education, when as they say, they are unworthy to speak to such an assembly; and that they are unlearned, their knowledg is little, their understanding dull, their judgment weak; their capacity narrow, and that they are unexperienced and unfurnished of expressions, to deliver the subject, or matter of their discourse; if this or the like which they say be true, they abuse the Auditory, and them∣selves, to invite them or draw them, to hear that, they think is not worth the listening to, and if they be not so (as they say) they bely the nature, and edu∣cation, which heaven forbid I should be so ungratefull to nature, so base to my birth, so undutifull to my Educatour, and so unthankfull to the Gods. No, no, I will not be so, for I will publickly acknowledg natures favours, who hath given me more wit, than time hath given me yeares; she hath furnish∣ed me with ingenuity, beyond an ordinary proportion, and hath drawn the plat form of my mind Mathematically, and pensiled me with her best coul∣lourd dyes, for which I am bound morally to serve her; As for my birth, as I am of the same kind of Mankind; I am equall with the rest, let my conditi∣on be never so poor, I have no reason to be ashamed of the Kind; but my birth is Honourable by length of time, as for my education, it hath been sin∣gular, having not been bred as other Children accustomarilie are, who hath liberty to fling away their youthfull time in idle sports, or useless learnings, and those that they are taught by, are young and unexperienced Tutours; but I must tell this worthy and experienced assembly, that I was not bred with powdered Curles, but silver hairs, Age, I bowed to, and obeyed with duty, Age, I viewed with respects, and listened to with attention; Age, directed my senses, manured my brain; pulled up, or out, the rootes of ignorance, and weedes of errours, sowed knowledg, and planted understanding; for, my educatour, which was my dear Father, hath been industrious, carefull, prudent, bountifull, and studious, for my improvement; for which my treble duty doth attend his life, and my prayers supplicates for to prolong it, which hea∣ven knows, I desire beyond my own; As for the Gods which gives all good, let those that dare be unthankfull, I dare not, such as Atheists that believes in

none; but pardon me for intruding one your patiences, with a tedious and self discourse, although I could not well avoid it, but now, with your leave, most Noble Auditours, I shall first treat of Nature, although Nature is an end∣less Theam to treat of; for though that the principles of Nature, or Natures principles may be easily numbred, yet the varietyes which change doth make on those principles are infinite; for well may Nature, if man by Art can make infinite varietyes, by change of few principles, as for example in musick, from 8. Notes, by change, infinite Tunes, are, or can be made; from the figure of 1. to 9. what Multiplication? From 24. letters, how far can the mind dictate it self in, numerous words, and different languages? Thus Nature the tutress to man, and onely man, have taught him to imitate her; for, though she is the Mother to all other Creatures, yet man is her beloved Child; for she, like as a fond parent, leads and directs man to discoveryes, and as it were, points and markes out their wayes, and as a diligent Tutress, explains and expounds her selfe by her works, and her several works, like as several books hath several prints, and are bound in several vollums, and are keep•• safe in several Libraryes, of several Ages, by aged time; but some∣times Nature behaves her selfe like a Huntress, and makes Mankind as her Hounds, to hunt out the hidden effects of unknown causes, leading Mankind by three several strings, as by the string of observation, the string of concepti∣on, and the string of experience, and as hounds snuffs and snuffels on the Paths they tread, so mans thoughts, like as hounds noses, are busily imployed. And as hounds springs out upon a following sent, and with open mouth makes a loud cry; so men, when they make any new discoveryes, divulges it with their voyces, or noyses of the tongue and pen; yet man at this hath no reason to take exceptions, because he gaineth knowledg thereby, and Nature may use her own as she pleases; but sometimes Nature is as a Paintress, and the mind of man is as the Copy of Nature, drawn by her selfe; for the mind of man is as infinite as Natures selfe, having no dimension, nor extension, and the thoughts are the infinite Creatures therein, and the brain is the ground to paint on, and the motions of life are the pensills to work, or draw with. And in these Copyes Nature views her selfe, yet all animal Creatures, espe∣cially Mankind, seems of a middle mixture, as, not so gross as the Earth, nor so pure as the Heavens, which is the cause man is difficult to some things, and easy to others; as it is easyer for the eyes to look down on the earth, than to stare up to the Heavens, and for the feet to step down on steps, than to step up on stayres, or for the whole body to slyde down a hill, than to clamber up a hill, so it is easier for life to slyde down to vice, than to mount up to virtue, for what is purest is still placed highest, that is the reason that the Coelestiall bodyes are placed ove••••••, as the Terrestriall body under us; and we being mixt, are placed in the midst: Upon this Text give me leave to treat of the two Globes, the Coelestiall, and the Terrestriall, in the Coelestiall, there are Se∣ven Worlds, where the Sun is the Center World, which being a flame, streams forth in lynes of light, upon the other Six Worlds; and as those Six Worlds, or the Seventh World, moves, so have they light or darkness; but the Sun which is the flaming World, or the World of flame, is fed as a Lamp with an oyly substance, from the other Six Worlds, which oyly sub∣stance the Sun sucks to him, from thence, by attracting Motions, these Six Worlds I will similize to Six Udders, paps, or breasts, from which the Sun, like as a young greedy appetite sucks, and draws out, each in their turns, and as I said by attraction, this oyly moisture, which oyly moisture is as the

milk; the Worldly Udders, or Uddery Worlds, doth as all Udders doth, which as soon as they are drawn dry fills again, and if they be not sufficiently drawn, their moisture grows thick and gross; like as crudled milk, which corrupts and becomes Ulcerous, from whence runs venemous matter, which falling down breeds amongst animals, many diseases as the rot murring, and the like amongst beasts; And amongst men the Smale pox, measels, and all sorts of feavers, even to the plague, & according as the corruptions are, or runs, the diseases are more dangerous, or less violenter, or weaker, lasts longer, or ends sooner; and if these Udders be drawn faster than they can be naturally filed, they become chopt and dry, empty and shrunk, which causeth dearth and famine; And though we cannot see a dearth in the face of the Moon, and the rest of the Planets, as on the face of the Earth, nor see famine in the face of the Moon, as in the face of a Man; yet for all we know, there may be dearths, plagues, and warres in those Planets, as in particular Kingdoms; although the Planets have no such Intelligences from each other, as particular Kingdoms hath; yet questionless they have Traffick and Commerce, though mankind cannot visibly perceive, which way, or by what means. Also the Planet••, by their circular motions, may draw up vapours from the Sea, and earth, like as the Wheels of water Mils. As for the Terrestriall globe, it turns upon a Pole, as a Pig upon a Spit, and the Sun is the fire that rosts it; but when the Sun is scorching hot, the earth like overroasted meat, it burnt and black, and when that over cold moist vapors, quenches out the heat of these firy beams, then is the earth as raw; but when as equall heat, at equall di∣stance, by equall Motions, agrees Simpathetically, then is the Terrestriall globe well drest, and full of gravy, which causes nurishing health; but to draw to a conclusion of my Philosophicall lecture, I will similize the Coelestiall, and Terrestriall globes, which globes, are as Man and Wife; the Coelestiall as the Husband, the Terrestriall as the Wife, which breeds and bears, what the Coe∣lestiall begets, For the Coelestiall and the Terrestriall globes are Natures work∣ing houses, where, Animals, Vegetables, and Minerals, are wrought into se∣veral figures, shapt, and formed into divers fashions, like as Smiths makes diverse fashioned things out of mettals, so Nature is as the Smith, the Earth as the mettal, the Sun as the fire, the Sea as the quenching water, the aire as the Bellows, youth is the Furnace; time is the Forge, and motion is the Ham∣mer, both to shape, and break assunder; but for fear I should break your patience, I shall desist from speaking any more at this time.

After a modest and humble respective bow to the assembly.

She goeth out.

The whilst the Audience holds up their hands in admiration.

1. Philosopher.

Now you have heard her, what do you say?

2. Philosopher.

I say let us go home and make a fune∣rall pile of our bookes, that are Philosophy, burn them to Ashes, that none may file as Phenix like out of that dust.

3. Philosopher.

No, throw them at those foolish men that walk in black, who would be thought learned by the outside; although they are unlettered.

4. Philosopher.

Take heed of that, for so they may have hopes of a resur∣rection, and so rise again in ragged covers, and tattered torn sheets, in old Duck-lane, and quack their to be bought.

1. Philosopher.

No, no, we will all now send for Barbers, and in our great Philosophies despair, shave of our reverend beards, as excrements, which once did make us all esteemed as wife, and stuff boyes foot-balls with them.

2. Philosopher.

Nature, thou dost us wrong, and art too prodigall to the effeminate Sex; but I forgive thee, for thou art a she, dame Nature thou art; but never shewed thy malice untill now, what shall we do?

3. Philosopher.

Faith all turn gallants, spend our time in vanity and sin, get Hawks and Hounds, and running Horses, study the Card and Dye, Rich Cloathes and Feathers, wast our time away with what this man said, or what that man answered, backbite and raile at all those that are absent, and then renownce it with new Oathes Alamode.

4. Philosopher.

No, no, honour this Virgin whose wit is supreme, whose judgment is Serene as is the Sky, whose life is a Law unto her selfe and us, virtue her handmaid, and her words so sweet, like to harmonious musick in the Aire, that charms our Senses and delights the Soul, and turns all passions in our hearts to love, teaches the aged, and instructs the youth, no Sophister, but Mistriss still of truth.

Ex.

Here ends my Lord Marquisses.

Scene 10.

Enter the Lord de l'Amour, and the Lady Innocence.

LOrd de l'Amour.

I begin to be so fond of your Company, as I cannot be long absent therefrom.

Lady Innocence.

'Tis your favours to me, which favours are above my merits, indeed I have no merits, but what your favour creates.

Lord de l'Amour

You seem so virtuous, and sweetly dispositioned, and are so beautifull and witty, as I cannot but admire, and love you.

Lady Innocence.

I dare not be so rude, not yet so ungratefull, to speak against my selfe, now you have praised me, for your words are like to Kings, which makes all currant coyn they set their stamp on; although the substance should be mean and of no value.

Lord de l'Amour.

Thy words are Musicall.

Lady Innocence.

I wish I could speak as eloquently upon every subject, as several birds sings sweety in several Tunes, to please you.

Lord de l'Amour.

Do you love me so well, as to wish it onely for my sake.

Lady Innocence.

Yes, and how should I do otherwise, for my affections to you was ingrafted into the root of my infancy, by my Fathers instructions and perswasious; which hath grown up with my Age.

The Lady Incontinent peeps in, and sees them together, (speaks to her selfe) in the mean time they seem to whisper.

Lady Incontinent.

Are you both so serious in discourse, I will break your friendship, or I will fall to the grave of death in the attempt.

Lady Incontinent goes out.

Lord de l'Amour.

Heaven make you as virtuous as loving, and I shall be happy in a Wife.

Lord de l'Amour goes out.

Lady Innocence alone.

Lady Innocence.

Heaven make him as constant, as I virtuous, and I shall be sure of a gallant man to my Husband.

Ex.

Notes

• This written by my Lord Marquess.