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

Scene 2.

Enter Madamoiselle Bon' Esprit, and her Maid enters soon after.

MAid.

Madam, there is Monsieur Satyrical come to visit you.

Bon' Esprit.

Cupid and Venus possess him, and Pallas guard me. Conduct him hither.

Enter Monsieur Satyrical.

Bon' Esprit.

Monsieur Satyrical, you appear like a Comet to our Sex.

Satyrical.

If all your Sex had been like you, I should have been as conver∣sant as one of the Planets.

Bon' Esprit.

I hope you have not that Influence on our Sex, as the Planets have on Earthly Creatures.

Satyrical.

I wish I had, for then I might cast such an Influence of Love, as might cause you to love me.

Bon' Esprit.

But you are like the Planet of Saturn, and not of Venus: for you frown, when Venus smiles.

Satyrical.

I shall not do so when you smile.

Bon' Esprit.

You will when I quarrel with you.

Satyrical.

I hope you will not quarrel with me; but if you do, I will re∣ceive your anger, as subjects receive the punishments of Laws, obediently, although it ruins me.

Bon' Esprit.

I will make you Judge of the Cause, as of the Laws. Have I not reason to quarrel with you, when I Challeng'd you to an Honourable Fight, and you return'd my Challenge back with scorn and slight?

Satyrical.

Whatsoever my Answer was, I confess I am conquer'd, and yield my self your prisoner, to dispose of me as you please: But if you will, take a Ransome of current Love, which I have brought you in the Chest of my Heart, wherein it is so fast lock'd, that nothing but your Acceptance can open it.

Bon' Esprit.

If it be capable of being taken forth, I may leave your heart empty.

Satyrical.

Your Virtue will still furnish it with more, Your pure Chastity increase the store.

Bon' Esprit.

Your Wit is very apt to take your part, To keep your own, yet strives to steal my heart: But if you do not use it nobly well, It will complain to Gods, the truth will tell.

Satyrical.

May I be curs'd, my Wit be quenched out, If I give you a cause my Love so doubt, Or I your. Virtues highly not admire, Preferring them before a loose desire, May all the Gods their vengeance on me cast, And may their punishments for ever last.

Bon' Esprit.

I was in jest at first; but since I find Your Love so honest, and your words so kind,

I cannot doubt, nor yet my self deny The union Friendship in firm bonds to tye Of everlasting love; and if I break, May Gods be deaf when I in pray'rs do speak.

Satyrical.

Madam, the Poetical Duel hath ended in Friendship, and if you please, in Mariage.

Bon' Esprit.

I consent; but do not prize me the less for being soon won for I loved you before you asked my Love; and being ask'd, I could not de∣ny you.

Satyrical.

I value your love as Saints do Heaven, and prize it as highly as Gods their power; and for my crimes committed against you and your Sex, I offer up my heart on the Altar of Repentance, as a sacrifice to you my Goddess for an Atonement of your Anger.

Bon' Esprit.

I accept of thy Offering, and shall receive it as a Trophy of my Victory.

Satyrical.

I am your slave.

Exeunt.