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

Scene 20.

Enter Sir Effeminate Lovely, and Mall Mean-bred.

SIR Effeminate Lovely.

Those wandering Stars that shine like brightest day, are fixt on me, the Center of your love.

This following Scene was writ by the Lord Marquess of New-castle.

Mall Mean-bred.

O Heavens!

Sir. Effem. Lovely.

Happy to touch those Lillies in your cheeks mingled with Roses, loves perfumed bath.

Mall. Mean-bred.

They grow forsooth in our Garden.

Sir Effem. Lovely.

You are the Garden of all sweets for love, your blush∣ing lips of the Vermillion die, and those twin cherries,give me leave to taste.

Mall Mean-bred.

Truly Sir, I understand no Latin, but I will call our Vi∣car to you, and he shall expound.

Sir Effem. Lovely.

No dearest Dear, my lovely Dear, my dearest Love, my lovelyest Dear.

Mall Mean-bred.

I never cost you any thing as yet, Sir.

Sir Effem. Lovely.

Why, then no Lady of Arcadie bred.

Mall Mean-bred.

Truly Sir, this is as our Vicar saith, like Hebrew without poynts, to be read backwards; say any thing forward in Notthingham-shire; speak, that I may guess at, and I will answer your VVorship, though truly, it is as fine as ever I understood not.

Effem. Lovely.

Why then sweet heart I love you, and would gladly enjoy you.

Mall Mean-bred.

O sie, enjoy is a naughty word forsooth, if it please you.

Effem. Lovely.

It would please me, your thoughts of what you mince.

Mall Mean-bred.

Thoughts are free forsooth, and I love whole joints with∣out mincing.

Effem. Lovely.

Why then in plain English, I would have your Maiden-head.

Mall Mean-bred.

O dear, how will you get it, can you tell? Truely, true∣ly, I did not think such naughty words would come forth of so fine a Gentle∣mans mouth.

Effem. Lovely.

But tell me truely, do you think me fine?

Mall Mean.

You will make me blush now, and discover all; so fine cloaths, the Taylor of Norton never made such, and so finely made, unbotton∣ed and untrust doth so become you; but I do hang down my head for shame; and those Linnen Boot-hose (as if you did long to ride,) do so become you, and your short Coat to hang on your left arm; O sweet, O sweet, and then your Hat hid with so fine a Feather, our Peacocks tailes are not like it; and then your hair so long, so finely curled, and powder'd in sweets, a sweeter Gentleman I never saw. My love's beyond dissembling, so young, so fresh, so every thing, I warrant you; O Sir, you will ravish me, but yet you can∣not.

Effem. Lovely.

O how you have made me thankfulnesse all over for this

your bounty to me; wherefore my earthly Paradise, let us meet in the next Close, there under some sweet Hedge to tast Loves aromatick Banquet at your Table.

Mall Mean.

O Sir, you blushes I consent; farewel; do not betray me then, you must not tell.

Farewell my sweetest, granting of my sute, Shall still inslave me, and be ever mute.

Here ends my Lord Marquesse's Scene.

Ex.