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

About this Item

Title
Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.
Author
Newcastle, Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of, 1624?-1674.
Publication
London :: Printed by A. Warren, for John Martyn, James Allestry, and Tho. Dicas ...,
1662.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A53060.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Playes written by the thrice noble, illustrious and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A53060.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 8, 2024.

Pages

Scene 14.
Enter Mother Matron, and her Maid.
Matron.

Come, come, I have watch'd and long'd for your Return a∣bove two hours, I may say above two years, for so the time did seem to me. O Venus, thou Fair and Amorous Godess, send me a comfortable Answer, if't be thy will!

Maid.

I have brought you a Letter from Monsieur Frisk; but for my part I know not what comfort he hath sent you.

Matron.

O Cupid, O Cupid, be my friend!

She opens the Letter and reads it aloud.

The Letter.

Amorous Mother Matron;

THough Time hath made you sit for Heaven, having worn out your body, a sub∣stance for Love to work upon, converting or translating it all into Soul, an in∣corporeal shadow, which none but the Gods can imploy to any use; yet since you E∣steem and Love me as a God, to resign up that incorporality, I can do no less than re∣turn you thanks, although I never did merit such a gift: But my sins, I confess are many, and deserve great punishments, yet I hope the Gods will be more merciful, than to leave me void of reason, or to suffer Nature to make me to have extravagant ap∣petites, or Heaven to leave me to extravagant appetites; but howsoever, as occa∣sions fall out, I shall shew reverence to your Motherly Gravitie, and in the mean time rest

Your Admirer, FRISK.

Matron.

I know not by this Letter whether he will be my Lover, or not; yet I will kiss it for his sake.

She kisses the Letter.

O sweet Letter, thou happy Paper, that hast receiv'd the pressure of this hand! What did he say when he gave you this letter to bring me?

Maid.

He talk'd of Pluto, and of Hell.

Page 370

Matron.

How, of Hell!

Maid.

Yes, but it was concerning AEneas and Dido.

Mother Matron fetches a great sigh.
Matron.

I hope he will not make me such an Example as Queen Dido, nor himself so false a Lover as AEneas; but if he should, I will cry out, O thou my cruel AEneas hast slain me!

Exeunt.
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