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, 2025.

Pages

Scene 29.
Enter the Lady Prudence, and Intelligencer her Woman.
INtelligencer.

Madam, all the Town condemns you.

Prudence.

And do you condemn me too?

Intelligen.

No, Madam: for I am bound, as being your servant, to submit to your will, liking, and pleasure.

Prudence.

Why, the choise is honest: for they may swear I am not ena∣mour'd with his Person: But had he been a fair Youth, or known to be a debanch'd Man, they might have justly condemn'd me, either for my fond Affection and amorous Love, or wilde Choice.

Intelligencer.

'Faith they may thiak your Choise is wilde, by reason you have chosen out of a Labyrinth, not knowing where his beginning or end is.

Prudence.

Why Virtue is the Beginning, and Happiness, I hope, will be the End.

Intelligen.

I wish it may prove so Madam.

Prudence.

But pray tell me, Did you ever hear me speak worse than I did to him?

Intelligen.

How do you mean, Madam, in that you gave your self away?

Prudence.

No, in that I did not present my self more Eloquently.

Intelligen.

Methought your Speech did not flow so smooth as it was us'd to do, as if your Tongue did know you did commit a fault in granting to his Sute.

Prudence.

No truly; for my desire did out-run my speech: for desiring to speak best to him I loved most, obstructed my Tongue, which made my words run unevenly.

Intelligen.

That's a common misfortune: for when any one strives to speak wisely, they most often speak foolishly.

Prudence.

'Tis true; for strife is an enemy to speech: for those that speak not free and easie, never speak well.

For when as Passion wrestles with the Tongue, The Sense is weak, and down the words are slung,
Exeunt.
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