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 16, 2024.

Pages

Page 351

Scene 27.
Enter many of Monsieur Malateste's Servants, writing, against their Master and Ladies comming home. Enter Monsieur Malateste and his Lady.
SErvants.

Heaven give your Worship joy, and our noble Lady.

Madam Mal.

What, is this your best House?

Monsieur Mal.

Yes, and is it not a good one Sweet?

Madam Mal.

Fie upon it, I hate such an old-fashiond House; wherefore pray pull it down, and build another more fashionable, as that there may be a Bell-view and Pergalus round the outside of the Horse, also Arched Gates, Pillars and Pilasters, and carved Frontispeeces, with Antick Imagery, also I would have all the lower rooms vaulted, and the upper rooms flat-roof'd, painted and gilded, and the Planchers checker'd and inlaid with sil∣ver, the Stair-cafe to be large and winding, the steps broad and low, as shal∣low; then to take in two or three Fields about your House to make large Gardens, wherein you may plant Groves of Mirtle; as also to make Walks of green Turf, and those to be hanging and shelving, as if they hung by Geo∣metry; also Fountains and Water-works, and those Water-works to imi∣tate those Birds in Winter, that only sing in Summer.

Monsieur Mal.

But this will cost a great summ of money Wise.

Madam Mal.

That's true, Husband; but to what use is money, unless to spend?

Monsieur Mal.

But it ought to be spent prudently.

Madam Mal.

Prudently, say you? why Prudence and Temperance are the Executioners of Pleasure, and Murtherers of Delight: wherefore I hate them, as also this covetous humour of yours.

Exeunt Monsieur Malateste and his Wife.
1 Servant.

I marry Sir, here is a Lady indeed: for she talks of pulling down this House before she hath throughly seen it, and of building up a∣nother.

2 Servant.

If you will have my opinion, the old servants must go down as well as the old house.

3 Servant.

I believe so: for she look'd very scornfully upon us, nor spoke not one word either good or bad to us.

4 Servant.

Well, come let us go about our imployments, and please as long as we can, and when we can please no longer, we must seek other Ser∣vices.

Exeunt.
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