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

The first Part of the Lady Contemplation. (Book 1)

The Actors Names.

• ...Lord Title.
• ...Lord Courtship.
• ...Sir Experience Traveller.
• ...Sir Fancy Poet.
• ...Sir Golden Riches.
• ...Sir Effeminate Lovely.
• ...Sir Vain Complement
• ...Sir Humphrey Interruption.
• ...Mr. Adviser.
• Doctor Practise, and other Gen∣tlemen.
• ...Tom Purveyer.
• ...Roger Farmer.
• ...Old Humanity.
• ...Servants, and others.
• ...The Lady Contemplation.
• ...The Lady Conversation.
• ...The Lady Visitant.
• ...The Lady Ward.
• ...The Lady Virtue.
• ...Lady Amorous.
• ...Mrs. Troublesome.
• ...Mrs. Governesse, the Lady Vir∣tues Attendant.
• ...Nurse Careful, Nurse to Lady Ward.
• ...Maudlin Huswife, Roger Far∣mers wife.
• ...Mall Mean-bred, the daughter.
• ...Nan Scape-all, Maid to the La∣dy Virtue.

The first Part of the Lady Contemplation.

ACT I.

Scene 1.

Enter the Lady Contemplation, and the Lady Visitant.

VIsitant.

What Lady Contemplation, musing by your self alone?

Contemplation.

Lady Visitant, I would you had been ten miles off, rather than to have broken my Contemplation.

Visitant.

Why, are you so godly, to be so serious at your Devo∣tion?

Contemplation.

No faith, they were Contemplations that pleas'd me better than Devotion could have done; for those that contemplate of Heaven, must have death in their mind.

Visitant.

O no, for there is no Death in Heaven to disturb the joyes thereof.

Contemp.

But we must dye before we come to receive those joyes; and the terrifying thoughts of Death, take away the pleasing thoughts of Hea∣ven.

Visitant.

Prethee let me know those pleasing thoughts.

Contemplation.

I did imagine my self such a Beauty, as Nature never made the like, both for Person, Favour, and Colour, and a Wit answerable to my Beauty, and my Breeding and Behaviour answerable to both, my Wisdome excelling all: And if I were not thus as I say, yet that every one should think I were so; for opinion creates more, and perfecter Beauties, than Nature doth. And then that a great powerful Monarch, such a one as Alexander, or Caesar, fell desperately in love with me, seeing but my Picture, which was sent all about the world; yet my Picture (I did imagine) was to my disad∣vantage, not flattering me any wayes; yet this Prince to be inamoured with this shadow for the substance sake: Then Love perswaded him to send me his Picture, which represented him to the life, being extreamly handsome, yet had a manly and wise countenance. This Picture being brought by Em∣bassadours, which Embassadours when they came, treated with me about marriage with this sole Emperor, all other Kings and Princes being but Tri∣butaries; receiving these Embassadours with great civility and respect, yet behaving my self with a reserved and Majestical behaviour, which the Em∣bassadours observing, said, I was the only Lady that was fit to be the only Emperours wife, both for my Beauty, Carriage, and Wit: When after a modest Fear, and seeming Humility, I had reason'd against the marriage, at last by their perswasion I consented; then was there Post after Post, and Mes∣senger after Messenger, sent with letters from the Emperour to me, and from me to the Emperour; he admiring my letters, for the elegancy of the stile, and eloquency of the wit, and admiring my Picture for the beauty; one while

reading my letters, and another while viewing my Picture, made him impa∣tient for my Company, which made him send to his Embassadours, that with all speed they should bring me away, sending to all the Princes whose King∣domes I was to passe thorow, that they should guard me with Armyes, but not retard me with Olimpias, or the like, but to convey me safe and speedily: Whereupon I took my Journey (most of the Kingdome where I was born petitioning to wait on me); but by reason I could not take them all, unlesse I should depopulate the Kingdome, I would carry none, lest I should displease those that were to be left behind; but as I went out of the City where I dwelt, all the streets were strewed with dead Lovers, which had lived only on hopes, so long as I lived amongst them: But when they knew for certain I was to depart, their hopes vanished, and they dyed with despair. The Em∣bassadours seeing such a Mortality, caused the Army that was my guard to march apace, and my Coaches to trundle away, thinking it was the Plague; but at last, after my Beauty had killed millions in the Kingdomes I passed thorow, I arrived at that part of the world where the Emperour was, who was a joyed man to hear of my coming, and had made great preparations a∣gainst my arrival; but some few dayes before my arrival, he sent a Chariot which was made of the thinnest plated gold, because it should be light in the Carriage, but the body of the Chariot was enameled and set with pre∣cious stones, the Horses trappings were only great Chains of pearls, but the horses reigns were Chains of gold, that might be strong enough to check their hot Spirits, and swift speed; as for my self, I was only cloathed in white Sa∣tin, and a Crown of Diamonds on my head, like a Bride, for I was to be marryed as soon as I met the Emperour; but as I past along, all the High∣wayes were beset with Crouds of people, which thronged to see me, and when they saw me, they cryed out I was an Angel sent from the Gods; but your coming spoyl'd the Triumph, and brake the Marriage.

Visitant.

No. no it is retarded for a time, the next musing Contemplation the marriage Nuptial will be.

Contemplation.

If you had not come and hinder'd me, I should have go∣ver'nd all the world before I had left off Contemplating.

Visitant.

But if you make such hast to be at the Government of the whole world, you would want a Theam for your thoughts to work upon, for you can aim at no more than all the world.

Contemplation.

O yes, rather than fail I would make new worlds, but this wil last me a long time in shewing you what wise Laws I make, what upright Justice I give, ordering so, as the whole world should be as one united Fami∣ly; and when I had shewed my wisdome in Peace, then my thoughts should have raised Warres, wherein I would have shewed my valour and con∣duct.

Visitant.

Prethee be not so imprudent to cast away precious time, and to bury thy life in fantasms.

Contemplation.

Why prethee, they manage time best, that please life most; For it were better not to be, than to be displeased; for there is none that tru∣ly lives, but those that live in pleasure, & the greatest pleasure is in the imagina∣tion not in fruition; for it is more pleasure for any person to imagin themselvs Emperour of the whole world, than to be so; for in imagination they reign & Rule, without the troublesome and weighty cares belonging thereto; neither have they those fears of being betrayed or usurped as real Emperours have;

Besides, the whole general Race of Man-kind, may this way be the particular Emperour of the whole World, if they will; but those that desire to be Emperours any other wayes, have but sick judgements, for the mind is all, for is that be pleased, man is happy.

Visitant.

Well, well, I had rather have the Material world, than you Airy Fictions.— But confess really to me, if you should not think your self ac∣curst if you were to have no other Lovers, but what your Fancy cre∣ates.

Contemplation.

No truely, for I finding none so exact as my Fancy creates, makes all men appear worse than they are: For imagination doth like Pain∣ters, which takes all the gracefullest lines, and exactest Features from two or three good faces, and draws them into one: this is the reason that there may be handsomer Pictures drawn, than any Creature born; because, Nature di∣stributes and divides her Favours, as to the generality, when Painter contract them into particulars; for there was never any, unlesse born as a wonder, that hath no exceptions; besides, my Lovers which my Fancy cre∣ates, never make me jealouse, nor never disturb me; come to me, and goe from me; speak or are silent as I will have them, and they are behaved, quali∣fied, and adorned to my humour, also of what Birth, Age, Complexion, or Stature I like best; thus their persons and souls are created in my brain, live in my Contemplation, and are dead and buryed in my forgetfulnesse, but have a Resurrection in my remembrance,

Visitant.

Prethee do not lose the pleasure of the World, for the sake of dull Contemplation.

Contemplation.

Why, the greatest pleasures that can be in Fruition, I take in Imagination: for whatsoever the sence enjoyes from outward objects, they may enjoy in inward thoughts. For the mind takes as much pleasure in cre∣ating of Fancies, as Nature to create and dissolve, and create Creatures anew: For Fancy is the Minds creature, & imaginations are as several worlds, where∣in those Creatures are bred and born, live and dye; thus the mind is like infinite Nature.

Visit.

Prethee leave thy infinite folly.

Contem.

It is my infinite delight.

Ex.

Scene 2.

Enter the Lady Poor Virtue weeping, and her Governesse.

GOverness.

Madam, why do you weep, and grieve your self almost to death?

Poor Virtue.

Have I not reason? my Father being kill'd, and I left friendlesse all alone, my Mother dying as soon as I was born.

Governesse.

There is no reason you should grieve for your Father, since he dyed in the defence of his King and Country.

Virtue.

Tis true, and I glory in his valiant loyal Actions, yet I cannot choose but mourn for the losse of his life, and weepe upon his death.

Governess.

Methinks the greatest cause you have to weep, is, for the loss of your Estate, which the Enemy hath seized on, and you left only to live on Charity.

Poor Virtue.

I cannot mourn for any thing that is in Fortunes power to take away.

Governess.

Why? Fortune hath power on all things in the World.

Poor Virtue.

O no, she hath power on nothing but base dross, and outward forms, things moveable; but she hath neither power on honest hearts, nor noble Souls; for 'tis the Gods infuse grace, and virtue; nor hath she power or Reason, or Understanding, for Nature creates, and disposes those; nor doth she govern Wisdome, for Wisdome governs her; nor hath she power on Life and Death, they are decreed by Heaven.

Governess.

And will you weep at Heavens decree?

Poor Virtue.

The Heavens decrees hinder not humanity, nor natural af∣fection.

Governess.

Well, ever since your Mother dyed, I have governed your Fa∣thers House, and pleased him well; but since he is kill'd, and that there is nothing for me to govern, I will take my leave of you and seek another place; and I hope fortune will favour me so as to direct me to some Widdower, or old Batchelour, which desires a comely huswifly woman to order their pri∣vate affairs.

Poor Virtue.

I wish you all happiness, and if I were in a condition, I would make you a present.

Exeunt.

Scene 3.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1. GEntleman.

Sir, My Lord is so busy since his Fathers Death, with Stewards, Atturnies, and such like, about ordering his Estate, as I am loath to disturb him; but as soon as he hath done speaking to them, I will wait upon you to my Lord.

2. Gentleman.

Sir, I shall wait my Lords leasure.

Enter the Lady Ward and Nurse Care∣ful, they pass over the Stage.

2. Gent.

Sir, what pretty young Lady is that which passes by?

1. Gent.

She is a great Heiress, and was Ward to my old Lord, and he upon his Death-bed charged his Son my young Lord to marry her.

2. Gent.

Surely small perswasions might serve turn; for her Virtue is Rhetorick enough to perswade, nay to force affection.

1. Gent.

Yet my Lord is discontented, he would rather choose for him∣self, than that his Father should have chosen for him; for it is the Nature of Mankind to reject that which is offered, though never so good; and to prize that they cannot get, although not worth the having.

2. Gent.

Of what Quality, of Birth, and Nature, and disposition is she of?

1. Gent.

She is Honourably Born, and seems to be of a sweet disposition; but of a Melancholy Nature.

Enter a Servant.

Servant.

Sir, my Lord desires the Gentleman would be pleased to walk in.

Exeunt.

ACT II.

Scene 4.

Enter the Lady Contemplation, and Sir Humphrey Interruption.

INterruption.

Lady, what makes you so silently sad?

Contemplation.

Pardon me Sir, I am not sad at this time, for my thoughts are merry, and my spirits lively.

Interrupt.

There is no appearance of mirth in you, for mirth hath alwayes a dancing heel, a singing voyce, a talking tongue, and a laughing face.

Contempl.

I have such merry Companions sometimes; but I seldome dance, sing, talk, or laugh my self.

Interrupt.

Where are those Companions? I desire to be acquainted with them, and keep them Company.

Contempl.

You cannot keep them Company, for the place they inhabit in, is too little for your Corporal body to enter; besides, they are so curious, choyce, and nice Creatures, as they will vanish at the very sight of you.

Interrupt.

Why Lady, I am none of the biggest sized Men, nor am I of a terrible aspect; I have seen very fine and delicate Creatures.

Contempl.

But you never saw any of these Creatures.

Interrupt.

Pray where do they dwell, and what are their Names? I long to visit them.

Contempl.

They dwell in my head, and their Sirnames are called thoughts; but how you will visit them I cannot tell, but they may visit you.

Interrupt.

Faith Lady, your relation hath made me despair of an enter∣view, but not a friendly entertainment, if you please to think well of me.

Contempl.

Thoughts are free, and for the most part they censure according to fancy.

Interrupt.

Then fancy me such a one, as you could like best, and love most.

Contempl.

That I cannot doe, for I love those best which I create my self, and Nature hath taught me to prize whatsoever is my own most, although of smaller valew, than what's anothers, although of greater worth.

Interrupt.

Then make me yours, by creating me anew.

Contempl.

That is past my skill; but if you will leave me alone, I will think of you when you are gone; for I had rather of the two entertain you in my thoughts, than keep you Company in discourse; for I am better pleased with a solitary silence, or a silent solitariness, than with a talking conversation, or

an entertaining talking, for words for the most part are rather useless spent, than profitably spoke, and time is lost in listning to them, for few tongues make Musick, wanting the Cords of Sense, or sound of Reason, or singers of Fancy, to play thereon.

Interrupt.

But you will injure your wit, to bury your wit in solitary silence.

Contempl.

Wit lives not on the tongue, as language doth, but in the brain, which power hath, as Nature, to create.

Interrupt.

But those are aery not material Creatures.

Contempl.

'Tis true, but what they want in substance, they have in variety; for the brain can create Millions of several Worlds fill'd full of several Crea∣tures, and though they last not long, yet are they quickly made, they need not length of time to give them form and shape.

Interrupt.

But there is required Speech to express them, or they are made in vain, if not divulged.

Contempl.

Speech is an enemy to Fancy; for they that talk much, cannot have time to think much; and Fancies are produced from thoughts, as thoughts are from the minde, and the minde which doth create the thoughts, and the thoughts the fancies, is as a Deity; for it entertains it self with it self, and only takes pleasure in its own works, although none other should par∣take, or know thereof; but I shall talk a World out of my head, wherefore farewel.

Ex.

Scene 5.

Enter Poor Virtue, and her Maid Nan Scrapeall.

NAn Scrapeall.

Now your Estate is seized on, you have not means to keep a Servant, as to pay them for their service.

Poor Virtue.

No truly Nan, but that which grieves me most, is, that I have not wherewithall to reward thee for thy past service.

Nan Scrapeall.

I have served you these seven years, and have had nothing but my bare wages, unless it were some of the worst of your cast Clothes; for Mrs. Governess took order I should have none of the best; but I hope you will pay me my half years wages that is due to me.

Poor Virtue.

Truly Nan I am not able, for not only my Estate, but all the Money, Jewels, Plate, and other goods you know was seized on, all that my Father left, or had a right to, unless it were my single self; and if you will take my service for half a year for payment, I will be very honest, dutiful, and diligent.

Nan Scrapeall.

No by my troth, for you have been bred with so much at∣tendance, curiosity, and plenty, as you will rather prove a charge than a pay∣ment; but if you can get means by your youth, and beauty, I shall come and claim what is owing me.

Poor Virtue.

When I am able you shall not need to challenge it; for I will pay you before you ask.

Nan Scrapeall goes out, and Poor Virtue sits down as in a deep study.

Enter an old gray headed man namely Humanity, who seeing her in so Melancholy a Posture, falls a weeping.

Poor Virtue.

Why weepst thou old Humanity?

Humanity.

For the ruine of your noble family. I came a boy to your Grandmother the great and rich Lady Natures service, she being then newly married to your Grandfather the Lord Propriety; from whence sprung your Father the Lord Morality; your Grandfather, and Grandmother dying, I ser∣ved your Father, who soon after married your Mother the Lady Piety, they living, whilst she lived, with Peace and Tranquillity; but she dying, left you only to your Father, as a pledg of their loves; and indeed, you are so like them both, as all must confess they were your Parents, although they knew not your Birth; and yet none can tell which you resembled most: thus have I lived to see your Grandfather, and Grandmother, and Father, and Mother dead, and Peace, and Tranquillity fled; and you sweet Virtue left dessolate and forlorn, both of friends and fortune; but sweet Lady comfort your self, for I have a little fortune, which I got honestly in your Fathers service; and as long as that lasts you shall not want.

Poor Virtue.

I thank you, but you are old Humanity, and ready to go upon Crutches, and age and infirmities are shiftless; wherefore keep it for thy own use.

Humanity.

Why, so is unexperienced youth, both shiftless, and strength∣less.

Poor Virtue.

Tis true, yet youth hath an encreasing advantage; for time carryes youth up, but time pulls Age down; wherefore I will not take that from thee, that will cause thee to be the poorer, or hazard you to want; I shall only desire your advise, what I shall do, and what course I shall follow.

Humanity.

Alas sweet Lady, necessity will drive you into many ex∣tremities.

Poor Virtue.

I shall have fortitude to arm me; but what Counsel will you give me?

Humanity.

The best way for you will be to get into some great Ladies ser∣vice, and in such a place or office as to attend upon her Person, there you may live with honour and respect.

Poor Virtue.

I had rather shrow'd my honest Poverty in a thatcht house, than live in a Palace to be pointed at for my misfortunes; for in this Age, misfortunes are accounted crimes, and poverty is condemned as a thief, and hang'd in the Chains of scorn; wherefore if I could get a service in an ho∣nest poor Farmers house, I might live happy, as being most obscure from the World, and the Worlds Vices; for vice encreases more in Palaces than in Cottages; for in Palaces Pride Plows, Faction Sowes, Riot Reaps, Extortion Threshes, Covetousness Whoords up the grain or gain; there youth is corrup∣ted with Vanity, Beauty catcht with Flattery, Chastity endangered with Pow∣er, and Virtue slandered by Envy; besides, great Persons use their Servants too unequally, making them either Masters, or Slaves; where in an humble Cottage the industrious, and laborious Masters command their Servants friendly and kindly, and are obeyed with love; wherefore good Humanity, seek me out such a Place to live in, to serve.

Humanity.

I will, for I will never forsake you as long as I live, or at least so long as I have leggs to goe.

Poor Virtue.

When you cannot visit me, I will visit you, for I shall never be ungrateful.

Ex.

Scene 6.

Enter the Lady Conversation, and Sir Experience Traveller.

COnversation.

Sir Experience Traveller, you that have been so great a tra∣veller, pray tell me what Nations have the rarest Beauties, and which the greatest Wits?

Sir Experience Traveller.

In all my travels, the rarest Beauty that I have seen, and the greatest Wit that I have heard of, is your self, sweet Lady Con∣versation.

Conver.

Then you have lost your labour; for you might have seen my Beauty, and have heard my Wit, at lesse Charges, and more ease.

Experience Tra.

Tis true Madam, had I only travelled to see a fair Lady, and hear a witty discourse.

Conver.

Why, many travel to lesse purpose.

Experience Tra.

Tis true Madam, for some travel meerly to learn to make a leg or congy with a good grace, and to wear their cloaths, or acouster themselves fashionably. But I have observed in my travels, that very cold Countries, and very hot Countries, have neither so many Beauties, nor so much Wit, at lest not so much as more temperate Countries have.

Conver.

What is the reason of that?

Exper. Trav.

I cannot conceive the reason, unlesse the extream coldnesse of the Climate should congele their Spirits, and stupifie their Brains, making the Spirits unactive to get, and the Brain too barren to breed and bear Wit.

Conversation.

So then you make the Spirits and the Brain the Parents to Wit.

Exper. Trav.

Yes Madam.

Conver.

And what reason give you for the scarcity of Beauties in very cold Climates?

Exper. Trav.

Beauty, Madam, is as tender and fading in the growth, as a Flower, although it be fresh and sweet; and the more delicate it is, the more subject to be nipt with the hard Frost, and to be withered with raw colds.

Conver.

Then hot Countries should produce good store.

Exper. Trav.

No Madam, for extream heat dryes up Wit, as water in a Spring, and Sun-burns beauty.

Conver.

But hot Brains are thought to produce the greatest VVits.

Expe. Trav.

Yes, if they be equally tempered with moisture; for as heat in moisture are Generators of all Creatures, so of Wit; but if the moisture exceed the heat, the Brain, or Mind becomes stupid, if the heat exceeds the moisture, the Brain or Mind becomes mad.

Conver.

VVhat Nation hath the best Language?

Expe. Trav.

There are but three commendable things in Language, those

are to be significant, copious, and smooth, and the English tongue hath the perfection of all, there being an oyle, or butter made of the cream of all o∣ther Languages. Thus, what with the Temperature of the Climate, and the soft, smooth, spreading Language, England produces rarer Beauties, and eloquenter Orators, and finer Poets, than any other Nation in the world; and the Nobility and Gentry live not only in greater grandeur, than in other Na∣tions, but naturally appear or look with a more splendid Great∣nesse.

Conver.

Tis true, they did so in former times, when the Crown kept up Ceremony, and Ceremony the Crown; but since that Ceremony is down, their grandeur is lost, and their splendor put out; and no light thereof re∣mains: But they are covered with a dark rudenesse, wherein the Clown ju∣stles the Lord, and the Lord gives the way to the Clown; the Man takes the wall of his Master, and the Master scrapes legs with Cap in hand to the Ser∣vant, and waits upon him, not out of a generous and noble Nature, but out of a base servile fear, and through fear hath given the Power away.

Exper. Trav.

I am sorry to hear the Nobility is so degenerated.

Ex.

Scene. 7.

Enter the Lord Courtship, and his Friend Master Adviser.

ADviser.

I wonder your Lordship should be so troubled at your Fathers commands, which was to marry the Lady Ward, unlesse she had been ill-favoured and old.

Lord Courtship.

O that's the misery! that she is so young, For I had rather my Father had commanded me to marry one that had been very old, than one that is so young; for if she had been very old, there might have been some hopes of her death; but this young Filly will grow upon me, not from me; besides, those that are young give me no delight, their Company is dull.

Adviser.

VVhy, she is not so very young, she is fifteen years of Age.

Lord Court.

Give me a Lady to imbrace about the years of twenty, rather than fifteen; then is her Beauty like a full-blown Rose in Iune, her VVit like fruit is ripe and sweet, and pleasant to the ear; when those of fifteen are like to green sharp Fruit, not ripened by the Sun of Time. Yet that's not all that troubles me; but I cannot endure to be bound in VVedlocks shackles, for I love variety, and hate to be ty'd to one.

Adviser.

VVhy, you may have the more variety by marrying.

Lord Court.

No faith, 'tis a Bar; for if I should but kisse my wives Maid•• which a thousand to one but I shall, my wife, if she doth not beat her Maid, making a hideous noise, with scoldings, yet she will pour, and cry, and feign her self sick, or else she would Cuckold me, and then I am paid for all.

Adviser.

Faith my Lord, it is a hundred to one but a man when he is mar∣yed

shall be Cuckolded, were he as wife as Solomon, as valiant as David, as fortunate as Caesar, as witty as Homer, or as handsome as Absalom; for Wo∣men are of the same Nature as men, for not one man amongst a thousand makes a good Husband, nor one woman amongst a thousand makes an honest Wife.

Lord Court.

No saith, you might well have put another Cypher and made it ten thousand.

Adviser.

Well my Lord, since you must marry, pray let me counsel you: This Lady Ward being very young, you may have her bred to your own Humour.

Lord Court.

How is that?

Adviser.

VVhy, accustome her to your wayes before you marry her; let her see your several Courtships to several Mistresses, and keep wenches in your house; and when she is bred up to the acquaintance of your customes, it will be as natural to her.

Lord Court.

VVhat, to be a whore?

Adviser.

No, to know your humours, and to be contented there∣at.

Lord Court.

VVell, I will take your advice, although it is dange∣rous: And as the old saying is, the Medicine may prove worse than the disease.

Adviser.

VVhy, the worst come to the worst, it is but parting.

Lord Court.

You say true; but yet a divorce will not clearly take off the disgrace of a Cuckold.

Ex.

Scene 8.

Enter Poor Virtue, and old Humanity.

HUmanity.

I have found out a service, a Farmer which hath the report of an honest labouring man, and his wife a good huswifely woman; they have onely one daughter about your years, a pretty Maid truely she is, and seems a modest one; but how you will endure such rough and rude work, which perchance they will imploy you in, I cannot tell, I doubt you will tire in it.

Poor Virtue.

Do not fear, for what I want in strength, my industry shall supply.

Humanity.

But you must be fitted with cloaths according, and proper to your service.

Poor Virtue.

That you must help me to.

Humanity.

That I will.

Ex.

ACT III.

Scene 9.

Enter Sir Fancy Poet, and the Lady Contemplation.

SIr Fancy Poet.

Sweet Lady Contemplation, although your thoughts be ex∣cellent, yet there are fine curiosities and sweet pleasures to be enjoyed in the use of the world.

Contemplation.

Perchance so, but would not you think that man a Fool that hath a great estate, a large convenient house, well situated, in sweet and healthfull Aire, pleasant and delightful, having all about for the eyes to view Landskips, and Prospects; beside, all the inside richly furnished, and the Master plentifully served, and much company to passe his time with, as a re∣sort of men of all Nations, of all Ages, of all qualities or degrees, and pro∣fessions, of all humours, of all breedings, of all shapes, of all complexions: Likewise a recourse for all Wits, for all Scholars, for all Arts, for all Sci∣ences; Also Lovers of all sorts Servants of all use, and imployments; Thus living luxuriously with all rarities and varieties, and yet shall go a begging, debasing himself with humble crouching, inslaving himself to Obligations, living upon cold Charity, and is denyed often times unkindly, or kickt out scornfully, when he may be honoured at home, and served in state, would not you think that this man had an inbred basenesse, that had rather serve un∣worthily, than command honourably; that had rather be inslaved, than free? Besides, that mind is a fool that cannot entertain it self with it's own thoughts; a wandring Vagabond, that is never, of seldome at home in Contemplation; A Prodigal to cast out his thoughts vainly in idle words, base to inslave it self to the Body, which is full of corruption, when it can create bodilesse Creatures like it self in Corporalities; with which self Creatures, it may nobly, honestly, freely, and delightfully entertain it self. VVith which, the mind may not only delight it self, but improve it self; for the thoughts, which are the actions of the mind, make the soul more healthful and strong by ex∣ercises; for the mind is the soules body, and the thoughts are the actions thereof.

Fancy Poet.

After what manner will you form this Body?

Contempl.

Thus, Understanding is the Brain, Reason the Liver, Love is the heart, Hate the Spleen, Knowledge the Stomach, Judgement the Sinews, Opi∣nions the Bones, VVill the Veins, Imaginations the Blood, Fancy the Spirits, the Thoughts are the Life, and Motion, or the Motions of the Life, the out∣ward Form is the Mind it self, which sometimes is like a Beast, sometimes like a Man, and sometimes like a God.

Fancy Poet.

And you my fair Goddesse.

Ex.

Scene 10.

Enter the Lord Courtship, and the Lady Amorous.

LAdy Amorous.

My Lord, you are too covetous to take a wife meerly for her riches.

Lord Courtship.

Believe me Madam, I do esteem of such Riches as Money, as I do of Marriage, and in my nature I do hate them both; for a man is en∣slaved by either: wherefore I would shun them if I could, and turn them out of doors, but that some sorts of necessity and conveniency inforce me to en∣tertain them; the one for Posteritie sake, the other for subsistence of present life, besides convenient pleasures.

Lady Am.

The Lady Ward, who is to be your wife, seems of a very dull disposition.

Lord Court.

She is so, but I like her the better for that, for I would have a deadly dull Wife, and a lively Mistresse, such a sprightly Lady as you are.

Lady Am.

In truth my Lord, I am of a melancholy Nature.

Lord Court.

Certainly Madam, you onely know the Name, not the Nature, for your Nature is alwayes fresh, and sweet, and pleasant, as the Spring.

Lady Am.

O no, my mind is like to VVinter, and my thoughts are numb and cold.

Lord Court.

If your thoughts were so cold, your words would be as if they were frozen between your lips, all your discourse would melt by drops, not flow so smoothly and swiftly into mens eares, as they at all times do.

Lady Am.

Tis true, I am merry when I am in your company, but in your absence I am as dull as a cloudy day, and as melancholy as dark night.

Lord Court.

I cannot believe so well of my self, as that my company can be the light of your mirth, but I know that your company is the Sun of my life, nor could I live without it.

Ex.

Scene 11.

Enter the Lord Title, Sir Effeminate Lovely, and Sir Golden Riches.

LOrd Title.

This is a barren Country, for in all this progresse I have not seen a pretty Country wench.

Effeminate Lovely.

Nor I.

Golden Riches.

Nor I.

Lord Title.

If an person can tell, it is Tom Purveyer.

Enter Tom Purveyer.

Now Tom Purveyer, are there no pretty wenches in this part of the Coun∣trey?

Tom Purveyer.

Yes that there are, an it please your Lorship, and not far off, two as pretty wenches as are in the Kingdome, and no dispraise to the rest.

They all speak.

All.

Where? where?

Tom Purveyer.

Hard by here, at a Farmers House, the one is his Daught∣er, the other is his Servant-Maid.

All.

Prethee Tom show us the house.

Tom Purveyer.

Not all at once; but one after another.

All.

Nay faith Tom, let us all see them at once; but we will Court them apart.

Tom Purveyer.

Content.

Exeunt.

Scene 12.

Enter the Lady Conversation, and Sir Fancy Poet.

LAdy Conversation.

What is the reason that Mercury is feign'd to be the patron of Thieves?

Sir Fancy Poet.

That is to be the patron of Scholars, for Scholars are the greatest Thieves, stealing from the Authours they read, to their own use.

Lady Convers.

And why are Scholars counted the greatest Thieves?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Because that they steal the Spirits, or life of renown, out of the treasury of Fame; when all other sorts of Thieves steal but the goods of Fortune, which is nothing but a Corporal dross.

Convers.

And why is he feigned the talkative God?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Because Scholars talk more than other men, and most com∣monly so much, as they will let none speak but themselves; and when there is a Company of Scholars together, they will be so fierce in disputes, as they will be ready to go to cuffs for the Prerogative of their opinion.

Convers.

The Prerogative of the tongue you mean; but why are Scholars apt to talk most?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Because they overcharge their heads with several Authors, as Epicures do their Stomacks with variety of meats, and being overcharged, they are forced to vent it forth through the mouth, as the other through the gut; for the tongue, as a Feather, tickles the throat of Vainglory, vomiting out the slime of Learning, into the ears of the hearers; but some heads, as Stomacks which are naturally weak, are so grip'd, by reason it doth not dis∣gest well, as they vent nothing but windy Phrases; and other brains which are hot and moist, by reason of a facil memory, disgest so fast, as they do nothing but purge loose Sentences; and other brains that are too dry and Incipid, are so costive, as their restringency strains out nothing but strong lines.

Convers.

What is that, Non-sense?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Indeed they are hard words without sense.

Convers.

What makes a good Poet?

Sir Fancy Poet.

A quick Fancy.

Convers.

What makes a good Oratour?

Sir Fancy Poet.

A ready Tongue.

Convers.

What makes a good Physician?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Much Practice.

Convers.

What makes a good Divine?

Sir Fancy Poet.

A Holy Life.

Convers.

What makes a good States-Man?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Long experience, great observance, prudent industry, in∣genuous wit, and distinguishing judgment.

Convers.

What makes a good Souldier?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Change of Fortune, Courage, Prudence, and Patience.

Convers.

What makes a good Courtier?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Diligence, Flattery, and time-serving.

Convers.

VVhat makes a good Prince, or Governour?

Sir Fancy Poet.

Justice, Clemency, Generosity, Courage, and Prudence mixt together.

Convers.

VVhat makes a good VVoman?

Sir Fancy Poet.

A Poet.

Convers.

VVhy a Poet?

Sir Fancy Poet.

By reason the Poetical wits convert their natural defects into sweet graces, their follies to pure innocencies, and their Vices into He∣roick Virtues.

Convers.

By these descriptions, you make as if women were more obliged to Poets than to Nature.

Sir Fancy Poet.

They are so; for where Nature, or Education, makes one good, or beautiful VVoman, Poets make ten; besides, Poets have not only made greater numbers of beautiful women, but perfecter beauties than ever Nature made.

Convers.

Then let me tell you, that women make Poets; for women kindle the masculine brains with the fire of Love, from whence arises a Poetical flame; and their Beauty is the fuel that feeds it.

Sir Fancy Poet.

I confess, were there no women, there would be no Poets; for the Muses are of that Sex.

Exeunt.

ACT IV.

Scene 13.

Enter Roger Farmer, and Maudling his Wife.

MAudling Huswife.

Truly Husband our Maid Poor Virtue is a very in∣dustrious Servant as ever I had in my life.

Roger Farmer.

Yes wife, but you were angry with me at first because I per∣swaded you to take her.

Maudling Huswife.

VVhy, she seem'd to be so fine a feat, as I thought she would never have setled to her work.

Roger Farmer.

Truly VVife, she does forecast her business so prudently, and doth every thing so orderly, and behaves her self so handsomely, car∣ryes her self so modestly, as she may be a Pattern to our Daughter.

Maudling Huswife.

I am a better Pattern my self.

Exeunt.

Scene 14.

Enter Poor Virtue with a Sheephook, as comming from tending her sheep, and the Lord Title meets her.

LOrd Title.

Fair Maid, may I be your Shepheard to attend you.

Poor Virtue.

I am but a single Sheep that needs no great attendance, and a harmless one, that strayes not forth the ground I am put to feed.

Lord Title.

Mistake me not fair Maid, I desire to be your Shepheard, and you my fair Shepheardess, attending loving thoughts, that feed on kisses sweet, folded in amorous arms.

Poor Virtue.

My mind never harbors wanton thoughts, nor sends immodest glances forth, nor will infold unlawful love, for chastity sticks as fast unto my Soul, as light unto the Sun, or heat unto the fire, or motion unto life, or ab∣sence unto death, or time unto eternity, and I glory more in being chast, than Hellen of her beauty, or Athens of their learning and eloquence, or the Lace∣demonions of their Lawes, or the Persians of their Riches, or Greece of their Fa∣bles, or the Romans of their Conquests; and Chastity is more delightfull to my mind, than Fancy is to Poets, or Musick to the Ears, or Beauty to the Eyes, and I am as constant to Chastity, as truth to Unity, and Death to life; for I am as free, and pure from all unchastity as Angels are of sin.

Poor Virtue goes out.

Lord Title alone.

Lord Title.

I wonder not so much at Fortunes gifts, as Natures curiosities, not so much at Riches, Tittle and power, as Beauty, VVit, and Virtue, joyn'd

in one; besides, she doth amaze me by expressing so much learning, as if she had been taught in some famous Schools, and had read many histories, and yet a Cottager, and a young Cottager, tis strange.

Ex.

Scene 15.

Enter the Lord Courtship, and Mr. Adviser.

ADviser.

My Lord, doth my Counsel take good effect?

Lord Courtship.

Yes faith, for she seems to take it very patiently, or elce she is so dull a Creature as she is not sensible of any injury that's done her.

Adviser.

How doth she look when you adress, and salute your Mi∣striss?

Lord Courtship.

She seems to regard us not; but is as if she were in a deep contemplation of another world.

Adviser.

I think she is one of the fewest words, for I never heard her speak.

Lord Courtship.

Faith so few, as I am in good hope she is tongue-tyed, or will grow dumb.

Adviser.

That would be such a happiness, as all married men would en∣vy you for.

Lord Courtship.

They will have cause, for there is nothing so tedious as talking women, they speak so constraintly, and utter their Nonsence with such formality, and ask impertinent questions so gravely, or else their dis∣course is snip snap, or so loud and shrill, as deafs a mans ears, so as a man would never keep them Company, if it were not for other reasons.

Adviser.

Your Lordship speaks as if you were a woman-hater.

Lord Courtship.

O Pardon me, for there is no man loves the Sex better than I; yet I had rather discourse with their beauty than their wits; besides, I only speak of generalities, not particularities.

Ex.

Scene. 16.

Enter the Lady Contemplation, and Sir Humphrey Interruption.

INterruption.

Lady, pray make me partaker of some of your conceptions.

Contempl.

My conceptions are like the tongue of an extemporary Oratour, that after he hath spoke, if he were to speak upon the same subject he could hardly do it, if it were not impossible just to speak as he did, as to express the same subjects in the same expressions, and way of his natural Rhetorick; for the sense may be the same, but the expressions, & way of Rhetorick wil hard∣ly be the same; but 'tis likely will be very different, and so differing, as not to be like the same, but the same premeditated Rhetorick, will many times

serve to many several designs, or preaching, pleading, or speaking, the Theam or cause being altered; This is the difference betwixt extemporary Orato∣ry, and premeditated Oratory, the one may be spoke, as many times as an O∣rator will, and make the same Oratory serve to many several Subjects; the o∣ther being not fixt, but voluntary, vanishes out of the remembrance, the same many times do my conceptions.

Interrup.

But I hope all are not vanished, some remain; wherefore pray expresse or present any one of your conceptions after what manner of way you please.

Contempl.

Why then I will tell you, I had a conception of a Monster, as a Creature that had a rational soul, yet was a Fool: It had had a beautiful and perfect shape, yet was deformed and ill-favoured; It had clear distinguish∣ing senses, and yet was sencelesse; It was produced from the Gods, but had the nature of a Devil; It had an eternal life, yet dyed as a Beast, It had a body, and no body.

Interrup.

What Monster call you this?

Contempl.

I call him Man.

Interrup.

This is a Man of your own conception.

Contemp.

A man of Natures creating is as monstrous for though man hath a rational soul, yet most men are fools, making no use of their reason; and though Man hath a beautiful and perfect shape, yet for the most part, they make themselves deformed and ill-favoured with antick postures, violent passions, or brutish vices; and man hath clear distinguishing Senses, yet in his sleep, or with sumes, or drink, he is sencelesse: Man was produced immediately from the Gods, yet man being wicked, and prone to evil, hath by evil wick∣ednesse the nature of a Devil; Man 'tis said, shall live for ever, as having an eternal life, yet betwixt this life and the other, he dyes like a Beast, and turns to dust as other Creatures do; but the only difference between the man Na∣ture creates, and the man my Conceptions create is, that Natures man hath a real substance as a real body; whereas my conceptive man is only an Idea, which is an incorporal man, so as the body of my concepted man, is as the soul of Natures created man, an incorporality.

Ex.

Scene 17.

Enter the Lord Title, and Mall Mean-bred.

LOrd Title.

* 1.1Well, I have lost my first Course in Love, and now like an angry bloody Gray-hound, I will down with the first I meet, were she as innocent as a Dove, or as wise as a Serpent, down she goes.

Enter Mall Mean-bred.

But soft, here's Loves game, and Ile flye at her. Fair One, for so you are.

Mall Mean-bred.

Truly Sir I am but a Blouse.

Lord Title.

Think better of your self, and believe me.

Mall Mean.

My Father hath told me, I must not believe a Gentleman in such matters.

Lord Title.

Why sweetest? I am a Lord.

Mall Mean.

A Lord; Lord blesse your Worship then, but my Father gave me warning of a Lord, he said they might nay, say and swear too, and do any thing, for they were Peers of the Realm, there was no medling with them he said, without a Rebellion, blesse me from a Lord, for it is a naughty thing, as they say, I know not.

Lo. Title.

Do you value me so little, when I can make you an Apocryphal Lady?

Mall Mean.

The Apocrypha forsooth is out of my Book, I have been bred purer than to meddle with the Apocrypha, the Gods blesse us from it, and from all such ill things.

Lo. Title.

Well, in short, will you love me?

Mall Mean.

I am so ashamed to love a Lord forsooth that I know not how to behave my self.

Lo. Title.

I will teach you.

Mall Mean.

If your Honour will take the pains to teach a poor ignorant Country Maid, I will do the best I can to learn forsooth; but will it not be too much pains for your Honour, do you think?

Lo. Title.

No no, it will be both for my Honour, and my pleasure, and for the pleasure of my Honour.

Mall Mean-bred.

Blesse us, how the Lords doe. It backward and forward at their pleasure, the finest that ever was; but what would your Honour have of me?

Lo. Title.

By this kiss Ile tell you.

He goes to kiss her, she seems nice and coy.

Mall Mean.

O fie, fie, good your Honour, do not scandalize your lips to kisse mine, and make me so proud as never to kisse our Shepherd again.

He offers.

Mall Mean.

No fie.

Lo. Title.

I will and must kisse you.

[He strives]

Mall Mean-bred.

Nay, good your Honour, good your Honour.

He kisses her.

What are you the better now? But I see there is no denying a Lord, for∣sooth it is not civil, and they are so peremptory too, the Gods blesse them, and make them their Servants.

Lo. Title.

This kisse hath so inflamed me, therefore for Loves sake, meet me in the Evening, in the Broom close here.

Mall Mean.

I know the Close forsooth, I have been there before now.

Lo. Title.

Well, and when we meet I will discover more than yet I have done.

Mall Mean.

So you had need forsooth, for nothing is discovered yet, either on your side, or mine, but I will keep my promise.

Lo. Title.

There spoke my better Angel; so adiew.

Mall Mean.

An Angel, I will not break my word for two angels, and I hope there will be no dew neither, God shield you forsooth.

Ex.

Here ends my Lord Marquesse.

Scene 18.

Enter Sir Effeminate Lovely, following Poor Virtue.

Sir Effeminate Lovely.

Fair Maid, stay and look upon my person.

Poor Virtue.

Why, so I do.

Effem. Love.

And how do you like it?

Poor Vir.

As I like a curious built house, wherein lives a vain and self-con∣ceited owner.

Effem. Love.

And are not you in love with it?

Poor Vir.

No truly, no more than with a pencilled Picture.

Effem. Love.

Why, I am not painted.

Poor Vir.

You are by Nature, though not by Art.

Effem. Love.

And do you despise the best and curiousest Works of Na∣ture?

Poor Vir.

No, I admire them.

Effem. Love.

If you admire them, you will admire me, and if you admire me, you will yield to my desires.

Poor Vir.

There may be admiration without love, but to yield to your de∣sires, were to abuse Natures VVorks.

Effem. Love.

No, It were to enjoy them.

Poor Vir.

Nature hath made Reason in man, as well as Sence, and we ought not to abuse the one, to please the other; otherwise man would be like Beasts, following their sensualities, which Nature never made man to be; for she created Virtues in the Soul, to govern the Senses and Appetites of the Body, as Prudence, Justice, Temperance, and Conscience.

Effem. Love.

Conscience? VVhat is that, natural fear?

Poor Vir.

No, it is the tenderest part of the Soul, bathed in a holy dew, from whence repentant tears do flow.

Effem. Love.

I find no such tender Constitution, nor moist Complexion in my Soul.

Poor Vir.

That is, by reason the Fire of unlawful Love hath drunk all up, & seared the Conscience dry.

Effem. Love.

You may call it what Fire you will, but I am certain it is your Beauty that kindles it, and your Wit that makes it flame, burning with hot desires.

Poor Vir.

Pray Heaven my Virtue may quench it out again.

Poor Virtue goes out.

Lovely alone.

Effem. Love.

I am sure Nature requires a self-satisfaction, as well as a self-preservation, and cannot, nor will not be quiet without it, esteeming it beyond life.

Ex.

Scene 19.

Enter the Lady Ward, and Nurse Careful.

Lady Ward.

I wonder my Lord Courtship, he being counted a wise man; should make me his Baud, if he intends to make me his Wife, and by my troth Nurse, I am too young for that grave Office.

Nurse Careful.

How ignorantly you speak Child? it is a sign you have been bred obscurely, and know little of the world; or rather it proves your Mother dyed before you could speak, or go, otherwise you would be better experien∣ced in these businesses.

Lady Ward.

My Mother, Nurse, Heaven rest her soul, she would never have made me a Baud.

Nurse Careful.

No, why then she would not do as most Mothers do now a dayes; for in this age Mothers bring up their daughters to carry Letters, and to receive messages, or at lest to watch at the door left their Fathers should come unawares, and when they come to make some excuse, and then the Mother laughs, and sayes her daughter is a notable witty Girle.

La. Ward.

What, for telling a lye?

Nurse Careful.

Yes, when it is told so, as to appeare like a truth.

Lady Ward.

But it is a double fault, as to deceive the Father, and be a Baud to the Mother.

Nurse Careful.

Why, the Mother will execute the same Office for the daugh∣ter when she is marryed, and her self grown into years; for from the age of seven or eight years old, to the time they are maryed, the Daughter is a Baud to the Mother; and from the time of their marriage, to the time of their Mothers death, the Mother is a Baud to the Daughter; but if the Mother be indifferently young, and hath a young tooth in her head, as the old saying is, they Baud for each other.

Lady Ward.

But why doth not the Mother Baud for her Daughter, before she is marryed.

Nurse Care.

O there is reason for that, for that may spoil her fortune, by hindering her marriage: for marriage is a Veile to cover the wanton face of adultery, the like Veil is Baud-mothers, and Baud-daughters; for who would suspect any lewdnesse, when the Mother and the Daughter is toge∣ther?

La. Ward.

And are not Sons Pimps for their Fathers, as Daughters are for their Mothers?

Nurse Careful.

No saith, Boys have facility, or ingenuity as Girles have; besides, they are kept most commonly so strictly to their Bookes, when Girles have nothing else to do; but when they have cast away their Books, and come to be marryed men, then they may chance to Pimp for their Wives.

Lady Ward.

O fie Nurse, surely a man will never play the Pimp to Cuckold himself.

Nurse Care.

O yes, if they be poor, or covetous, or ambitious; and then if they have a handsome woman to their wife, they will set her as a bait to catch their designs in the trap of Adultery; or patient, quiet, simple, fearful

men will, if they have a Spritely wise, they will play the Pimp, either for fear, or quiet; for such men to such wives, will do any thing to please them, although it be to Cuckold themselves.

La. Ward.

But surely Nurse no Gentleman will do so.

Nurse Gare.

I know not who you call Gentleman, but those that bear up high and look big, and vant loud, and walk proud, and carry the out-side of a Gentleman, will do so.

La. Ward.

Certainly Nurse they are but Bastard Gentry, or else they are degenerated.

Nurse Careful.

An incipid Branch may spring from a sound Root, ma∣ny a withered and rotten Plum may hang on a good Tree.

La. Ward.

And do Wives play the Bauds for their Husbands, as the Hus∣bands play the Pimps for their Wives?

Nurse Care.

Most often; for they will make Gossiping meetings, on purpose for their Husbands to Court other women; for they know when their Hus∣bands minds are fill'd with amorous love, they will not muse upon their acti∣ons, nor examine their wayes; besides, when as the Husband would take his liberty without disturbance, he will wink at the liberty his wife takes, and so will be procures for each other, and the Ladys acquaintance are Confi∣dents.

La. Ward.

Confidents, what is that, Nurse?

Nurse Careful.

Why it is thus, two Ladies make friendship, or at least call Friends, and if any man desires to be a Courtly Servant to one of them, he addresses himself to the other, and expresses what Passions and Affections he hath for her friend, and so makes his complaints and affections known to her; whereupon she recommends his addresses and service to her Friend; thus doing a friendly Office by carrying and declaring his professions, and re∣turning her Friends civil answers, appointing places for each others love-meetings, the other will do as much for her.

La. Ward.

Why this is a Baud.

Nurse Care.

O peace Child, for if any body heard you say so, they would laugh at you for a Fool, but 'tis a sign you never was a Courtier, for I knew a young Lady that went to Court to be a Maid of Honour; and there were two young Ladies that were Confidents to each other, and a great Prince made love to one of them, but adddrest himself to the other, as being her Friend; this young Maid askt why he did so, it was answered, she was the Princes Mistresse Confident; and just as you ask me, what said she, is a confi∣dent a Baud; whereupon the whole Court laught at her, and for that only question condemned her to be a very Fool, nay, a meer Changling.

La. Ward.

VVell Nurse, say what you will, Confident is but a Courtly name for a Baud.

Ex.

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.

Scene 21.

Enter Poor Virtue, and Sir Golden Riches following her.

Golden Riches.

Stay lovely Maid, and receive a Fortune.

Poor Virtue.

I am Fortune proof Sir, she cannot tempt me.

Gold. Rich.

But she may perswade you to reason.

Poor Virtue.

That she seldome doth, for she is alwayes in extremes, and

Extremes are out of Reason's Schools, That makes all those that follow Fortune Fooles.

Gol. Rich.

What do you Rime, my pretty Maid?

Poor Virtue.

Yes Rich Sir, to end my discourse.

Golden Riches.

I will make you Rich, if you will receive my gifts.

Poor Virtue.

I love not gifts Sir, because they often prove bribes to cor∣rupt.

Gold. Rich.

Why, what do you love then?

Poor Vir.

I love Truth, Fidelity, Justice, Chastity; and I love obedience to lawful Authority, which rather than I would willingly and knowingly infring, I would suffer death.

Gold. Rich.

Are you so wilful?

Poor Vir.

No, I am so constant.

Gold. Rich.

But young Maid, you ought not to deny all gifts, for there are gifts of pure affection, Love-gifts of Charity, gifts of Humanity, and gifts of Generosity.

Poor Virtue.

They are due debts, and not gifts; For those you call gifts of pure Love, are payments to dear deserving friends; and those of Charity are payments to Heaven; and those of Humanity are payments to Nature, and those Generosity, are payments to Merit, but there are vain-glorious gifts, covetous gifts, gifts of fear, and gifts that serve as Bauds to corrupt foolish young Virgins.

Gold. Rich.

Are you so wise to refuse them?

Poor Vir.

I am so virtuous as not to take them.

Ex.

ACT V.

Scene. 22.

Enter the Lady Contemplation, and Lady Visitant.

Visitant.

What still musing, O thou idle creature?

Contemp.

I am not idle, for I busie my self with my own fancies.

Visitant.

Fancies are like dust, soon raised, and suddenly blown away.

Contemp.

No, they are as fire-works that sparkling flie about; or ra∣ther stars, set thick upon the brain, which gives a twinckling delight unto the mind.

Visitant.

Prethee delight thy friends with thy conversation, and spend not thy time with dull thoughts.

Contemp.

Pray give me leave to delight my self with my own thoughts, since I have no discourse to entertain a hearer.

Visitant.

Why, your thoughts speak in your mind, although your tongue keeps silence.

Contemp.

'Tis true; but they disturb not the mind with noise, for noise is the greatest enemy the mind hath: and as for my part, I think the most useless sense that Nature hath made, is hearing: the truth is, that hear∣ing and smelling might well have been spared, for those two senses bring no materials into the brain; for sound and scent are incorporal.

Visitant.

Then put out all the senses.

Contemp.

There is no reason for that, for the eyes bring in pictures which serve the mind for patterns to draw new fancies by, and to cut, or carve out figurative thoughts, and the last serves towards the nourishment of the bo∣dy, and touches the life.

Visitant.

But wisedome comes through the ear by instruction.

Contemp.

Wisedome comes through the eye by experience; for we shall doubt of what we only hear, but never doubt of what we see perfectly: But the ground of wisedom is Reason, and Reason is born with the soul, where∣fore the ear serves only for reproof, and reproof displeases the mind, and seldome doth the life any good; nay many times it makes it worse, for the mind being displeased, grows angry, and being angry, malicious, and being malicious, revengeful, and revenge is war, and war is destruction.

Visitant.

But if you were deaf, you would lose the sweet harmony of musick.

Contemp.

Harmony becomes discord by often repetition, and at the best it doth but rock the thoughts asleep; whereas the mind takes more plea∣sure in the harmony of thoughts, and the musick of fancy, than in any that the senses can bring into it.

Visitant.

Prethee let this harmonious musick cease for a time, and let us go and visit the Lady Conversation.

Contemp.

It seems a strange humour to me, that all mankind in general should have an itching tongue to talk, and take more pleasure in the wag∣ging thereof, than a beggar in scratching where a louse hath bit.

Visitant.

Why, every part of the body was made for some use, and the tongue to express the sense of the mind.

Contemp.

Pardon me, tongues were made for taste, not for words, for words wa an art which man invented: you may as well say, the hands were made to shuffle cards, or to do juggling tricks, when they were made to de∣fend and assist the body; or you may as well say, the leg were made to cut capers, when they were made to carry the body, and to move, as to goe from place to place; for, though the hands can shuffle cards, or juggle, and the legs can cut capers, yet they were not made by Nature for that use, nor to that purpose; but howsoever, for the most part, the sense and reason of the mind is lost in the number of words; for there are millions of words for a single figure of sense, and many times a cyphre of nonsense stands instead of a figure of sense: Besides, there are more spirits spent, and flesh wasted with speaking, than is got or kept with eating, as witness Preachers, Pleaders, Players, and the like, who most commonly die with Consumptions; and I believe, many of our effeminate Sex do hurt the lungs with over-exercising of their tongues, not only with licking and tasting of Sweet-meats, but with chatting and prating, twitling and twatling; for I cannot say speaking, or discoursing, which are significant words, placed in a methodical order, then march in a regular body upon the ground of Reason, where sometimes the colour of Fancy is flying.

Visitant.

Now the Flag of your wit is flying, is the fittest time to encoun∣ter the Lady Conversation; and I make no question but you will be Victori∣ous, and then you shall be Crowned the Queen of Wit.

Contempl.

I had rather bury my self in a Monument of Thoughts, than sit in the Throne of Applause for Talking.

Exeunt.

Scene 23.

Enter the Lord Title to Poor Virtue, who sat under a little hedge, bending like a Bower. He sits down by her.

LOrd Title.

Sweet, why sit you so silently here?

Poor Virtue.

My speech is buried in my thoughts.

Lord Title.

This silent place begets melancholy thoughts.

Poor Virtue.

And I love melancholy so well, as I would have all as silent without me, as my thoughts are within me; and I am so well pleased with thoughts, as noise begets a grief, when it disturbs them.

Lord Title.

But most commonly Shepherds and Shepherdesses sit and sing to pass away the time.

Poor Virtue.

Misfortunes have untuned my voice, and broke the strings of mirth.

Lord Title.

Misfortunes? what misfortunes art thou capable of? Thou hast all thou wert born to.

Poor Virtue.

I was born to die, and 'tis misfortune enough I live, since my life can do no good: I am but useless here.

Lord Title.

You were born to help increase the world.

Poor Virtue.

The world needs no increase, there are too many creatures al∣ready, especially mankinde; for there are more than can live quietly in the world; for I perceive, the more populous, the more vicious.

Lord Title.

'Tis strange you should be so young, so fair, so witty as you are, and yet so melancholy; thy poverty cannot make it, for thou never knewest the pleasure of riches.

Poor Virtue.

Melancholy is the only hopes I do rely upon, that though I am poor, yet that may make me wise; for fools are most commonly mer∣riest, because they understand not the follies that dwell therein, nor have e∣nough considerations of the unhappiness of man, who hath endless desires, unprofitable travels, hard labours, restless hours, short pleasures, tedious pains, little delights, blasted joys, uncertain lives, and decreed deaths; and what is mirth good for? it cannot save a dying friend, nor help a ruined Kingdome, nor bring in plenty to a famished Land; nor quench out ma∣lignant Plagues; nor is it a ward to keep misfortunes off, though it may tri∣umph on them.

Lord Title.

But you a young Maid, should do as young Maids do, seek out the company of young Men.

Poor Virtue.

Young Maids may save themselves that labour, for Men will seek out them, or else you would not be sitting here with me.

Lord Title.

And are you not pleas'd with my company?

Poor Virtue.

What pleasure can there be in fears?

Lord Title.

Are you afraid of me?

Poor Virtue.

Yes truly; for the ill example of men, corrupts the good principles in women: But I fear not the perverting of my Vertue, but mens incivilities.

Lord Title.

They must be very rudely bred, that give you not respect, you being so very modest.

Poor Virtue.

'Tis not enough to be chastly modest and honest, but as a ser∣vant to my Mr. and Mrs. I must be dutiful, and careful to their commands, and on their employments they have put to me: wherefore I must leave you Sir, and go fold my sheep.

Lord Title.

I will help you.

Exeunt.

Scene 24:

Enter Sir Golden Riches, and Mall Mean-bred.

GOlden Rich.

Sweet-heart, I have no Sonnets,

This Scene was writ∣ten by my Lord Mar∣quiss of Newcastle.

Songs, or stronger Lines, with softer Poesie to melt your Soul, nor Rhetorick to charm your Eares, or Logick for to force, or ravish you, nor lap't in richer cloaths embalm'd in Sweets, nor Courtly Language; but am an Ancient Squire, by name Sir Golden Riches, which hath force in all things, and then in Love; for Cupid being blinde, he is for feeling, and look here my We••ch, this purse is stuff'd with Gold, a hundred pounds.

Mall Mean-bred.

Let me see, poure it on the ground.

Gold. Rich.

I will obey thee: Look here my Girl.

He poures it on the ground.

Mall Mean-bred.

O dear, how it doth shine for∣sooth! it almost blinds mine eyes; take it away, yet pray let it stay: truly I know not what to do with it.

Gold. Rich.

No? why it will buy you rich Gowns, ap'd in the Silk-worms toyls, with stockings of the softer silk, to draw on your finer legs, with rich lace shooes, with roses that seem sweet, and garters laced with spangles like twinckling Stars, embalm your hair with Gessimond Pomaetums, and rain Odoriferous Powders of proud Rome.

Mall Mean-bred.

O Heaven! what a Wench shall I be, could I get them! But shall we have fine things of the Pedlar too?

Gold. Rich.

Buy all their packs, and send them empty home.

Mall Mean-bred.

O mighty! I shall put down all the Wenches at the May-pole; then what will the Bag-piper say, do you think? Pray tell me, for he is a jeering knave.

Gold. Rich.

Despise the Rural company, and that windy bag, change it for Balls with greatest Lords to dance, and bring the Jerkin Fiddles out of frame.

Mall Mean-bred.

Then I shall have a Mail-Pillion, and ride behind our Thomas to the dancing.

Gold. Rich.

No, you shall ride in rich gilt Coaches, Pages and Lacquies in rich Liveries, with Gentlemen well cloath'd, to wait upon you.

Mall Mean-bred.

And be a Lady; then I will be proud, and will not know Thomas any more, nor any Maid that was acquainted with me.

Gold. Rich.

You must forget all those of your Fathers house too; for I'll get a Pedigree shall fit you, and bring you Lineally descended from Great Charlemain.

Mall Mean-bred.

No, I will have it from Charls wayn my Fathers Carter; but I would so fain be a Lady, and it might be: I will be stately, laugh with∣out a cause, and then I am witty, and jeer sometimes, and speak nonsense aloud. But this Gold will not serve for all these fine things.

Gold. Rich.

Why then we will have hundreds and thousands of pounds, until you be pleas'd, so I may but enjoy you in my Arms.

Mall Mean-bred.

No Maid alive can hold our these Assaults, Gold is the Petarr that breaks the Virgins gates, a Souldier told me so. VVell then, my Lord Title, farewel, for you are an empty name; and Sir Effeminate Lovely, go you to your Taylor, make more fine cloaths in vain.

I'll stick to Riches, do then what you will, The neerest way to pleasure buy it still.

Exeunt.

Scene 25.

Enter the Lady Ward alone.

LAdy Ward.

Why should Lord Courtship dislike me? Time hath not plowed wrinkles in my face, nor digged hollows in my cheeks, nor hath he set mine eyes deep in my head, nor shrunk my sinews up, nor suck'd my veins dry, nor fed upon my flesh, making my body insipid and bate; nei∣ther hath he quenched out my wit, nor decay'd my memory, nor ruin'd my understanding; but perchance Lord Courtship likes nothing but what is in perfection; and I am like a house which Time hath not fully finished, nor Education throughly furnished.

Scene 26.

Enter Poor Virtue, and Sir Golden Riches meets her comming from Mall Mean-bred.

Golden Riches.

Sweet-heart, refuse not Riches, it will buy thee friends, pacifie thy enemies; it will guard thee from those dangers that throng upon the life of every creature.

Poor Virtue.

Heavenly Providence is the Marshal which makes way for the life to pass through the croud of dangers, and my Vertue will gain me honest friends, which will never forsake me, and my humble submission will pacifie my enemies, were they never so cruel.

Gold. Rich.

But Riches will give thee delight, and place thee in the midst of pleasures.

Poor Virtue.

No, it is a peaceable habitation, a quiet and sound sleep, and a healthful body, that gives delight and pleasure, and 'tis not riches; but riches many times destroy the life of the body, or the reason in the soul, or, at least, bring infirmities thereto through luxury; for luxury slackens the Nerves, quenches the Spirits, and drowns the Brain, and slackned Nerves make weak Bodies, quenched Spirits, timorous Minds, a drowned Brain, a watry Understanding, which causeth Sloth, Effeminacy, and Sim∣plicity.

Gold. Rich.

How come you to know so much of the world, and yet know so few passages in it, living obscurely in a Farmers house?

Poor Virtue.

The Astronomers can measure the distance of the Planets, and take the compass of the Globe, yet never travel to them; nor have they Embassadors from them, nor Liegers to lie therein to give Intelligence.

Gold. Rich.

How come you to be so learnedly judicious, being so young, poor, and meanly born and bred?

Poor Virtue.

Why, Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, Animals, Vegetables, and Minerals, are Volumes large enough to express Nature, and make a Scholar learn to know the course of her works, and to understand many ef∣fects

produced therefrom. And as for Judgment and Wit, they are brother and sister; and although they do not alwayes, and at all times agree, yet are they alwayes the children of the Brain, being begot by Nature. Thus what Wit or Knowledge I have, may come immediatly from Nature, not from my Birth or Breeding; but howsoever, I am not what I seem.

Exeunt.

Scene 27.

Enter the Lady Contemplation, and the Lady Visitant.

Visitant.

What makes you look so sad?

Contempl.

Why Monsieur Amorous's visit hath been the cause of the death of one of the finest Gentlemen of this Age.

Visitant.

How, pray?

Contempl.

Why thus; my Imagination (for Imagination can Create both Masculine and Feminine Lovers) had Created a Gentleman that was handsomer and more beautiful than Leander, Adonis, or Narcissus; vali∣anter than Tamberlain, Scanderbeg, Hannibal, Caesar, or Alexander; sweeter-natur'd than Titus, the delight of mankinde; better-spoken, and more e∣loquent than Tully, or Demosthenes; wittyer than Ovid, and a better Poet than Homer. This man to fall desperately in love with me, as loving my Vertues, honouring my Merits, admiring my Beauty, wondring at my Wit, doting on my Person, adoring me as an Angel, worshipping me as a God∣dess; I was his Life, his Soul, his Heaven. This Lover courted my affe∣ction: with all the industry of Life, gifts of Fortune, and actions of Ho∣nour; sued for my favour, as if he had sued to Heaven for mercy; but I, as many cruel goddesses do, would neither receive his obligations, nor regard his vowes, nor pity his tears, nor hearken to his complaints, but rejected his Sute, and gave him an absolute denyal; whereupon he was resolved to dye, as believing no torments could be compared to those of my disdain; and since I would not love him living, he hoped by dying, his death might move my pity, and so beget a compassionate remembrance from me; wher∣upon he got secretly neer my chamber-door, and hung himself just where I must go out, which when I saw, I starred back in a great fright, but at last running forth to call for help to cut him down, in came Monsieur Amorous, which hinderance made me leave him hanging there, as being ashamed to own my cruelty; and he hath been talking, or rather prating here so long, as by this time my kind Love is dead.

Visitant.

O no, for Lovers will hang a long time before they dye; for their necks are tuff, and their hearts are large and hot.

Contempl.

Well, pray leave me alone, that I may cut him down, and give him Cordials to restore life.

Visitant.

Faith you must let him hang a little time longer; for I have un∣dertaken to make you a sociable Lady this day; wherefore you must goe a∣broad to a friends house with me.

Contempl.

Who I? what do you think I will goe abroad, and leave my Lover in a twisted string? his legs hanging daugling down, his face all black and swelled, and his eyes almost started out of his head; no, no, pray goe alone by your self, and leave me to my Contemplation.

Visitant.

Well, if you will not goe, I will never see you, nor be friends with you again.

Contempl.

Pray be not angry, for I will go, if you will have me, although I shall be but a dull companion; for I shall not speak one word; for where∣soever I am, my thoughts will use all their Industry to cut the string, and take him down, and rub and chafe him against a hot fire.

Visitant.

Come, come, you shall heat your self with dancing, and let your Lover hang.

Contempl.

That I cannot; for active bodies and active brains are never at once, the one disturbs the other.

Visitant.

Then it seems you had rather have an active brain, than an active body.

Contempl.

Yes; for when the brain doth work, the understanding is in∣riched, and knowledge is gained thereby: whereas the body doth oft-times waste the life with too much exercise.

Visitant.

Take heed you do not distemper your brain with too much exer∣cising your thoughts.

Contempl.

All distempers proceed from the body, and not from the minde; for the minde would be well, did not the humours and appetites of the body force it into a distemper.

Visitant.

Well, upon the condition you will goe, you shall sit still, and your wit shall be the Musick.

Contempl.

Prethee let me rest at home; for to day the strings of my wit are broken, and my tongue, like a fiddle, is out of tune: Besides, Contem∣plative persons are at all times dull speakers, although they are pleasant thinkers.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Written by my Lord Marquess of New-castle.