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

THE UNNATURAL TRAGEDY

ACT I.

Scene 1.

Enter Monsieur Frere, and his Friend.

MOnsieur Frere.

Since we are come out of our own Country to travel, we will go into Turky, if you will, and see that Coun∣try.

Friend.

With all my heart; but now I think on't better, I will stay here a while longer for the Curtezans sake; for we shall never get such store, nor such choise of Mistrisses; there∣fore, though the sober and chaste women are kept up here in Italy, yet the wild and wanton are let loose to take their liberty: But in Turky, that barba∣rous Country, all are kept close, those that will, as well as those that will not; but if they had the custome of Italy, to keep up only their honest women, it were a Charity: for otherwise a man loses his time in Courting those wo∣men that will not accept of his love: for how should a man know whether women will, or will not, having all sober faces, and demure countenances, coy carriages, and denying words?

Frere.

But yet they consent at last: for Importunity and Opportunity, 'tis said, wins the chastest ••he.

Friend.

Faith all the flowry Rhetorick, and the most observing times, and fittest opportunities, and counterfeiting dyings, win nothing upon a cold Icy Constitution, or an obstinate Morality; 'tis true, it may work some good ef∣fect upon an Icy Conscience.

Enter a man to Monsieur Frere with a Letter.

Frere.

From whence comes that Letter?.

Man.

From France Sir I believe, from your Father.

Exit man.

He opens it, and reads it to himself.

Friend.

What News? Hath thy Father sent thee money?

Frere.

Yes, but it is to return home: for he hath sent me word my Sister is marry'd to a very rich, honest, and sweet-natur'd man; and that also he would have me come home to marry a rich Heir, one that is his Neighbors Daughter: for my Father says he desires to see me setled in the World be∣fore he dies, having but us two, my Sister and I.

Friend.

Why, is he sick, that he talks of dying?

Frere.

No, but he is old, and that is more certain of Deaths approach.

Friend.

But is your sister marry'd, say you?

Frere.

Yes.

Friend.

Faith I am sorry for't: for I thought to have marry'd her myself.

Frere.

Marry she would have had but a wilde Husband, if she had mar∣ry'd you.

Friend.

The thoughts of this Rich Heir, make thee speak most precisely, as if thou wert the most temperate man in the world, when there is none so deboist as thou art.

Frere.

Prethee hold thy tongue, for I am very discreet.

Friend.

Yes, to hide thy faults, to dissemble thy passions, and to compass thy desires; but not to abate any of them: Well, if thy sister had not been marry'd, I would have prais'd thee, but now I will rail against thee: for lo∣sers may have leave to talk.

Frere.

Why, what hopes could you have had to marry her?

Friend.

VVhy, I was thy Friend, and that was hope enough. But is thy sister so handsome as Fame reports her?

Frere.

I cannot tell; for I never saw her since I was a little boy, and she a very child, I being kept strictly at School, and from thence to the University: And when I was to travel, I went home, but then she was at an Ants house a hundred miles from my Fathers house, so as I saw her not; but I must leave off this discourse, unless you'l return into France with me.

Friend.

No faith, thou shalt return without me: for I will not goe so soon, unless my Friends had provided me a rich Heiress to welcom me home; but since they have not, I mean to stay and entertain my self and time with the plump Venetians.

Frere.

Fare thee well Friend, and take heed you entertain not a disease.

Friend.

Thou speakest as if thou wert a Convertito.

Exeunt.

Scene 2.

Enter Madam Bonit alone, and s••ts down to work, as sowing; as she is working, Monsieur Malateste, her Husband, enters.

Monsieur Malateste.

You are always at work, for what use is it? You spend more money in silk, cruel, thread, and the like, than all your work is worth.

Madam Bonit.

I am now making you bands.

Malateste.

Pray let my bands alone: for I'm sure they will be so ill-favour'd as I cannot wear them.

Bonit.

Do not condemn them before you have try'd them.

Malateste.

You may make them; but I wi'l never wear them.

Bonit.

Well, I will not make them, since you dislike it.

Exeunt.

Scene 3.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1 GEnt.

Come, will you go to the Gaming-house?

2 Gent.

What to do?

1 Gent.

To play at Cards, or the like Games.

2 Gent.

I will never play at such Games but with women.

1 Gent.

Why so?

2 Gent.

Because they are Effeminate Pastimes; and not manly Actions; neither will I meerly rely upon Fortunes favour without merit, as Game∣sters do.

1 Gent.

Why then will you go to a Tavern?

2 Gent.

For what?

1 Gent.

To drink.

2 Gent.

I am not thirsty.

1 Gent.

But I would have you drink until you are thirsty.

2 Gent.

That's to drink drunk.

1 Gent.

And that's that I desire to be.

2 Gent.

What?

1 Gent.

Why drunk.

2 Gent.

So do not I: for I will not wilfully make my self uncapable, as I can neither be able to serve my King, Country, nor Friend, nor defend my Honour: for when I am drunk, I can do neither; for a man drunk, I weak∣er than a child that hath not strength to go or stand; and is worse than those that are dumb, for the dumb keep silence, when those that are drunk, doe stutter and stammer out non-sense, and make themselves fools; besides, e∣very Coward will take courage to beat, at least affront a man that is drunk, when as he dares not look ascue, or come near him without respect, when he is sober.

1 Gent.

Come, come, thou shalt go, if it be but to decide our drunken quarrels, and allay the wrathful vapour of Bacchus.

2 Gent.

No, I will never decide the disputes of Fool, Mad-men, Drun∣kards, nor Women: for Fools understand no Reason, Mad-men have lost their Reason, Drunkards will hear no Reason, and Women are not capable of Reason.

1 Gent.

Why are women not capable of Reason?

2 Gent.

Because it is thought, or rather believ'd, that women have no ra∣tional souls, being created out of man, and not from Iove, as man was.

1 Gent.

If Iove hath not given them rational fouls, I am sure Nature hath given them beautiful bodies, with which Iove is enamour'd, or else the Po∣ets lye.

2 Gent.

Poets describe Iove according to their own passions, and after their own appetites.

1 Gent.

Poets are Ioves Priests.

2 Gent.

And Natures Panders.

1 Gent.

Well, if you will neither go to the Gaming-house, Tavern, nor Bawdy-house, will you go and visit the sociable Virgins.

2 Gent.

Yes, I like sociable Virginity very well. But pray what are those

sociable Virgins, which you would have me go to see?

1 Gent.

VVhy a company of young Ladies that meet every day to dis∣course and talk, to examine, censure, and judge of every body, and of every thing.

2 Gent.

'Tis pity, if they have not learn'd the rules of Logick, if they talk so much, that they may talk sense.

1 Gent.

I will assure you they have voluble Tongues, and quick VVits.

2 Gent.

Let us go then.

Exeunt.

Scene 4.

Enter Monsieur Malateste, to his Wife Madam Bonit.

MAlateste.

Lord, how ill-favour'd you are drest to day!

Bonit.

VVhy I am cleanly.

Malateste.

You had need be so: for if you were ill-favour'dly drest and sluttish too, it were not to be endur'd.

Bonit.

VVell Husband, I will strive to be more fashionably drest.

Exeunt

Scene 5.

Enter Monsieur Pere, and Monsieur Frere, as newly come from Travelling.

MOnsieur Pere.

Well Son, but that you are as a stranger, having not seen you in a long time, I would otherwise have chid you for spending so much since you went to travel.

Frere.

Sir, travelling is chargeable, especially when a man goeth to in∣form himself of the Fashions, Maners, Customs, and Countries he travel∣leth through.

Enter Madam la Soeur, and Monsieur Marry, her Husband, where they salute and welcome their Brother home.

Pere.

Look you Son, I have increas'd my Family since you went from home, your Sisters Beauty hath got me another Son.

Soeur.

And I make no question but my Brothers noble and gallant Actions will get you another Daughter.

Pere.

Well Son, I must have you make haste and marry, that you may give me some Grand-children to uphold my Posterity, for I have but you two; and your sister, I hope, will bring me a Grand-son soon: for her Maids say she is sick a mornings, which is a good sign she is breeding, al∣though she will not confess it: for young marry'd Wives are asham'd to con∣fess when they are with Child, they keep it as private, as if their Child were unlawfully begotten.

Monsieur Frere all the while looks upon his Sister very stedfastly.

Marry.

Me thinks my Brother doth something resemble my Wife.

Frere.

No sure, Brother, so rude a made face as mine, can never resem∣ble so well a shap'd face as my sisters.

Marry.

I believe the Venetian Ladies had a better opinion of your face and person than you deliver of your self.

Soeur.

My Brother cannot choose but be weary, comming so long a Journey to day: wherefore it were fit we should leave him to pull off his boots.

Pere.

Son, now I think of't, I doubt you are grown so tender since you went into Italy, as you can hardly endure your boots to be roughly pull'd off.

Frere.

I am very sound Sir, and in very good health.

Pere.

Art thou so? Come thy ways then.

Exeunt.

Scene 6.

Enter Monsieur Malateste, and Madam Bonit his Wife.

MAlateste.

Wife, I have some occasion to sell some Land, and I have none that is so convenient to sell as your Joynture.

Bonit.

All my Friends will condemn me for a fool, if I should part with my Joynture.

Malateste.

Why then you will not part with it?

Bonit.

I do not say so: for I think you so honest a man, that if you should die before me, as Heaven forbid you should.

Malateste.

Nay leave your prayers.

Bonit.

Well Husband; you shall have my Joynture

Malateste.

If I shall, go fetch it.

She goes out, and comes back and brings the writings, and gives it him, and then he makes haste to be gone.

Bonit.

Surely Husband, I deserve a kiss for't.

Malateste.

I cannot stay to kiss.

Enter Madam Bonits Maid Joan.

Ioan.

Madam, what will you have for your supper: for I hear my Master doth not sup at home.

Bonit.

Any thing Ione, a little Ponado, or Water-gruel.

Ioan.

Your Ladyships Diet is not costly.

It satisfies Nature as well as costly Olio's or Bisks; and I desire onely to feed my Hunger, not my Gusto: for I am neither gluttonous nor lickerish.

Ioan.

No, I'll be sworn are you not.

Exeunt.

Scene 7.

Enter the Sociable Virgins, and two Grave Matrons.

MAtron.

Come Ladies, what discourse shall we have to day?

1 Virgin.

Let us sit and rail against men.

2 Matron.

I know young Ladies love men too well to rail against them; besides, men always praise the Effeminate Sex, and will you rail at those that praise you?

2 Virgin.

Though men praise us before our faces, they rail at us behind our backs.

2 Matron.

That's when you are unkind, or cruel.

3 Virgin.

No, 'tis when we have been too kind, and they have taken a surfet of our company.

1 Matron.

Indeed an over-plus of Kindness, will soon surfet a mans Af∣fection.

4 Virgin.

Wherefore I hate them, and resolve to live a single life; and so much I hate men, that if the power of Alexander and Caesar were joyn'd into one Army, and the courage of Achilles and Hector were joyn'd into one Heart, and the wisedom of Solomon and Ulysses into one Brain, and the Elo∣quence of Tully and Demosthenes into one Tongue, and this all in one man, and had this man the Beauty of Narcissus, and the youth of Adonis, and would marry me, I would not marry him.

2 Matron.

Lady, let me tell you, the Youth and Beauty would tempt you much.

4 Virgin.

You are deceiv'd: for if I would marry, I would sooner marry one that were in years: for it were better to chuse grave Age, than fantastical Youth; but howsoever, I will never marry: for those that are unmaried, appear like birds, full of life and spirit; but those that are maried, appear like beasts, dull and heavy, especially maried men.

1 Matron.

Men never appear like beasts, but when women make them so.

1 Virgin.

They deserve to be made beasts, when they strive to make wo∣men fools.

2 Virgin.

Nay, they rather think us fools, than make us so: for most Husbands think, when their Wives are good and obedient, that they are simple.

1 Virgin.

When I am maried, I'll never give my Husband cause to think me simple for my obedience: for I will be crose enough.

3 Virg.

That's the best way: for Husbands think a cross and contradicting Wife is witty; a hold and commanding Wife, of a heroick spirit; a subtil and crafty Wife to be wise, a prodigal Wife to be generous, a false Wife to be beautiful: And for those good qualities he loves her best, otherwise he hates her; nay, the falser she is, the fonder he is of her.

4 Virgin.

Nay, by your favour, for the most part, Wives are so inslav'd, as they dare not look upon any man but their Husbands.

1 Matron.

What better object can a woman have than her Husband?

1 Virgin.

By your leave, Matron, one object is tiresome to view often, when variety of objects are very pleasing and delightful: for variety of ob∣jects clear the senses, and refresh the mind, when only one object dulls both

sense and mind, that makes maried wives so sad and melancholy, when they keep no other company but their Husbands; and in truth they have reason: for a Husband is a surfet to the Eyes, which causes a loathing dislike unto the mind; and the truth is, that variety is the life and delight of Natures works, and Women being the only Daughters of Nature, and not the Sons of Iove, as men are feigned to be, are more pleased with variety, than men are.

1 Matron.

Which is no honour to the Effeminate Sex; but I perceive, Lady, you are a right begotten daughter of Nature, and will follow the steps of your Mother.

1 Virgin.

Yes, or else I should be unnatural, which I will never be.

Exeunt.