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

Scene 31.

Enter the Lady Hypocondria's Maid in a frighted haste: And en∣ter Roger Trusty, Sir VVilliam Lovewel's Man.

MAid.

O Trusty, where is my Master? my Lady is so ill, as we think she'll die: for she faith that she is in an Apoplexy.

Trusty.

If she were in an Apoplexy, she could not speak.

Maid.

Hold thy prating, Fool: for hers is a speaking Apoplexy.

Trusty.

You are a Slut for calling me Fool.

Maid.

You are a Knave for calling me Slut.

Trusty.

Am I so? there's for you for calling me Knave.

He kicks her, she cries out; in comes more ser∣vants: Then follows the Lady Hypocon∣dria running after them.

Hypocondria.

What in the name of Iuno is the matter? what Thieves are enter'd? or is my house on fire?

2 Maid.

No Madam, only Roger and Ioan are beating one another.

Hypocondria.

May the Devil beat them for frighting me so.

Enter Sir William Lovewell.

Lovewell.

My dear VVife, what is the cause you sent for me in such haste?

Hypocondria.

O Husband, I was dying of an Apoplexie, my Spirits were stopt, and my Brain was smother'd in a cloud of gross vapours; but your Man and my Maid falling out, they fell a bearing each other, and she crying out for help, did so affright me, as I came running hither, thinking Thieves had broken in, or Fire had broken out of our house, which fright hath un∣stopt the Sluce-passages, and dispers'd the Vapour.

Lovewell.

I perceive a bad Cause may sometimes produce a good Effect, if their sighting hath cured you.

Hypocondria.

Yes; but I will turn away my Maid, for crying, and quarrel∣ling, and making such a noise.

Lovewell.

That were unjust: for should the sick Patient, that had been sick to death, when he was restored to health, banish the Physician that re∣stored him, without a Fee? No, he ought to have his Fee doubl'd or trebl'd, so you ought not onely to keep your Maid, but to double or treble her wages.

Trusty.

It were more just to treble my wages than hers; for I was the cause of the Out-cry: for when I beat her, she roared, and her voice thorough her throat, made as great a rumbling noise, as a foul chimney set on fire, and in my Conscience as much sooty flegm fell from her head, as from a Cooks Chimney; and when she scolded, her words were so harsh, as they creeke just so as when a door is taken off the hinges, which made my Lady strait ap∣prehend either Fire, or Thieves, or both.

Lovewell.

No, you deserve nothing, by reason a man ought not to strike a woman.

Roger Trusty.

Why Sir? she would sooner have been hang'd about my neck, than have cried, if I had kiss'd her instead of kicking her.

Lovewell.

Hold your prating, and learn to be civiller to women.

Exeunt all but Roger and Joan.

Trusty.

If I had kiss'd you, Ioan, as I perceive my Master would have had me done, you had been silent, and in your silence my Lady would have died, and then my Master had been a lusty Widower, and a free Wooer, and a fresh man, as one may say, where now he is bound to a sickly Wife; and this is the reason my Master would not increase my wages: which if I had kiss'd you, I had been inriched by my Masters favour: wherefore Ioan, I will kiss thee, but kick thee no more.

Ioan.

Go hang your self, it is too late now, you should have kiss'd me before.

Exeunt.