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

Scene 26.

Enter the Lady Mute, as being in a melancholy Humour. Enter Sir William Holdfast, as meeting her.

HOldfast.

Lady, why seem you so melancholy?

Mute.

My melancholy disposition is apt to catch hold on my e∣vil Fortunes, and both joyning together, help to multiply my sad thoughts.

Holdfast.

Why should you be sad?

Mute.

How can I be merry, when I am left destitute of Friends, and unac∣quainted with Experience.

Holdfast.

Nature hath furnish'd you with all store, you need none.

Mute.

If she had, yet all the good seeds that Nature and Education hath sown in me, and sprouted forth in bud, are nipt with Misfortunes, wither'd with Sorrows, blasted with Sighs, and drown'd in Tears.

Holdfast.

For what?

Mute.

For being inslav'd unto an unworthy person, who neither loves Vir∣tue, nor values Honour, but laughs at my youth, and flings scorns on my In∣nocency, which makes me almost murmur at Heaven, and apt to think the

Gods unjust, to let Fortune betray me to Power and Tyranny.

Holdfast.

Trouble not your self: for certainly your bondage may be taken off, if it be discreetly handled: for he seems willing to part with you upon easie terms; for you heard him offer to sell you.

Mute.

I wish I were worth your Purchase.

Holdfast.

Would you willingly change him for me?

Mute.

I cannot be worse; and you seem so noble a person, as perswades me to hope I may be happy.

Holdfast.

And if I had the whole World, I would give it for you, rather than not have you; and I should think my self more inrich'd by the enjoy∣ment, than if the Gods made new Worlds to present me.

Mute.

I have heard Heaven protects the Innocent, defends the Harm∣less, and provides for the Helpless; which if it doth, the Gods will give me you.

Exeunt.