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

ACT III.

Scene. 25.

Enter Sir Francis Inconstant, alone, as being very melancholy.

INconstant.

I will read this Letter once again, although it shakes my Soul, and makes me almost mad.

He reads aloud the Letter.

Sir,

THe wrongs you have done me, are more than Heaven can give me patience to endure; for which wrongs, may thick black clouds of Infamy overspread your Memory; and may my Sorrows beat upon your Soul, as Northern Winds upon the Sea, and raise up all your thoughts in discontent, as raging billows, causing your voice to roar out loud with hideous noise, confounding all the Actions of your Life; and way your hopes be drown'd in the salt water of despairing Tears. The Heavens can∣not condemn me for cursing a man which hath betray'd my Youth by Flattery, violated my Chastity by Proteslations, tormented my harmless thoughts with Perjury, disquiet∣ing my peaceable Life with Misfortunes. But the burthen of my wrongs being too weighty for life to bear, hath sunk it to the Grave, where I hope all my disgrace will ••e buried with me, though not the revenges of my Wrongs; for those will punish you when I am dead: For the Gods are just, although Mankind is not.

Enter Nic Adviser, Sir Francis Inconstants man.

Inconstant.

O Nick, what a Villain am I!

Adviser.

For what Sir?

Inconstant.

For Perjury and Murther: for I did not only break those Bonds I had sealed with holy Vows, but my Falshood hath kill'd a fair young La∣dy: for she hearing I had forsaken her, and was to be maried to another, she dy'd for grief.

Adviser.

Alas Sir, we are all by Nature both frail and mortal: wherefore we must complain of Nature, of her Inconstancy and Cruelty, in making our Minds so changeable, and our Bodies so weak, the one being subject to Death, the other subject to Variety. But Sir, in my Opinion, you have no cause to grieve, but rather to rejoyce: for what you have erred by Nature, you have repaired by Fortunes favour: for if that Lady which is dead, had lived, you would have been incumber'd with many troubles.

Inconstant.

As how Nick?

Adviser.

Why you would have been as a young Bear baired by two young Whelps; the forsaken Lady railing and exclaming against you in all Com∣pany she came into, and your Wife tormenting you with sharp words and loud noise, insomuch as you would have neither ear, drank, or slept in quiet. Thus both abroad and at home you would have heard noth gbut your own reproaches.

Inconstant.

But shall not I be the same now she is dead, think you?

Adviser.

No faith Sir: for Death hath stopt the mouth of the one, and Kisses may chance to muzzle the mouth of the other; but if you be melan∣choly, your Lady will think you do repent, and will believe that you do pre∣fer the memory of your dead Mistris, before the enjoyment of your living Wife; besides, women are so jealous, as they will not allow their Husbands to think (that makes them talk so much as they do) for they think Thoughts are Bauds to Adulterous Actions, and that Imaginations commit Fornicati∣on with the Ghosts and Spirits of the dead.

Inconstant.

Well Nick I will take thy counsel, and cast off melancholy, and be merry in Jovial Company.

Exeunt.

Scene 26.

Enter the Lady Jealousie as holding her Head, and Sir Edward Courtly her Husband.

COurtly.

What, are you sick, Wife?

Iealousie.

I have such a pain in my Head, as I am not able to look up, or to speak.

Courtly.

You should take some Physick.

Iealousie.

I cannot take Physick.

Courtly.

You must take Physick if you be not well; but pray have a care you do not catch cold, for that will do you hurt. But I must be gone about my several Affairs: wherefore God be with you wife.

Sir Edward Courtly goes out.

The Lady Jealousie calls her Maid.

Iealousie.

Nan.

Maid.

Madam?

Iealousie.

Go make me a White-wine Caudle.

Maid.

I shall Madam.

Exeunt.

Scene 27.

Enter the Lady Chastity, and the Lady Procurer.

PRocurer.

Madam, I am not come upon my own Score, but upon a new one: for I am intreated, or rather commanded by a young Gentleman to kiss your Ladiships hands, as from him who durst not come to do it him∣self without your leave.

Chastity.

Truly he shall never have leave from me.

Procurer.

He begs that your Ladiship would give him leave to be your admiring Servant.

Chastity.

He may admire without my leave; and I wish I had Merits; worth admiring.

Procurer.

By my Troth, Madam, he is a most sweet young Gentleman.

Chastity.

Hath Nature perfum'd him, or Art?

Procurer.

Both, Madam.

Chastity.

That's too much, and will be apt to give the Head-ach.

Procurer.

O Madam, he is most desperately in Love with your Lady∣ship.

Chastity.

Pray Heaven, Madam, he doth not hang himself before my door!

Procurer.

'Faith Madam, it is to be fear'd he will do some violent Act upon himself, unless you pity him.

Chastity.

Is he in distress?

Procurer.

As much as Love can make him.

Chastity.

How should I help him, Madam?

Procurer.

Nothing can help him but Love's Returns in kind Imbrace∣ments.

Chastity.

Would you have me a maried Wife, imbrace an Amorous Lover?

Procurer.

O Madam, stolen pleasures are sweet, and Mariage is a Cloak to hide Love's meetings.

Chastity.

And can it hide the sin from the Gods, and the falshood from my Husband, as well as from the World? But let me tell you, the World is quick-fighted as to Particulars, though blind as to the General, complaining against single crimes, yet never helps to mend them.

Procurer.

'Faith Madam, the Gods easily pardon natural faults, and Hus∣bands dare not spy them, at least not to divulge them; and the World censures all the Virtuous as much as the Wicked, and the Chaste as much as the Wanton; besides, you are excusable, being maried to an antient man.

Chastity.

Doth Age deserve no Love?

Procurer.

'Faith little: for Love wears out with Time, and Age wears out of Love; and if you said you did love your Husband, no body would believe you: for who can think you that are young and fair, can love a man that's old?

Chastity.

By Heaven I never thought my Husband old: for he doth appear to me to be just at Maturity; adorhed with all the Graces.

Procurer.

Surely you do not think his silver Hair Apollo's Locks!

Chastity.

No; but I think them Pa as's his Head-peece.

Procurer.

Nor can you think his hollow Eyes, that's sunk into his Head, are Cupids golden Arrows?

Chastity.

No; but I think them Minerva's Loom, which hath inter-weav'd several Objects, making various and most curious works of Knowledge, and of Wit, where Judgment in the midst is plac'd, and Understanding bor∣ders it.

Procurer.

And can you think his shoulder, bent by weak old Age, are Cupids. Bow?

Chastity.

No; but I can think it's like a Bank swell'd out by Generosity, to bear Necessities burdens on; or else a heap of Noble Deeds, fals'd by Heroick Actions, whereon Fame sits in Triumph, and blows his praise a∣broad, that all the World may hear it.

Procurer.

I will never believe you can think the surrows in his face,

plough'd up by Time, as smooth as waters be when in a calm.

Chastity.

No; but I can think them Tracks or Paths made by Experience, in which walks Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and Temperance: And though you strive to make my Husband seem much older than he is, yet I believe that neither Time nor Age hath power over him: for to my sight his Skin is as smooth as Light, his Eyes as darting as Apollo's Beams, his Body is as straight as Serzes Wand, able to charm the youngest she, and turn her all to Love; his Strength is active, and his Spirits quick, to carry Arms, or sight his Enewies; and for his Brain, 'tis equally temper'd, not burnt with heat, nor frozen up with cold; nor are his Sinews out of tune by flacken'd Nerves, but just set to Lifes Harmony, Strength strings the Cords, and Health doth keep just Time.

Procurer.

Ha, ha, ha, sweet Lady, your love hath made him a most Hea∣venly Creature.

Chastity.

Foul Devil, that seeks for to corrupt the Mariage-bed with false Dispraise, and flattering Insinuations, carrying fond Loves recommendations from Ear to Ear! Youth being credulous, they are soon receiv'd, which you perceiving, strait strive to sow in tender hearts Loves Amorous Passions, from whence Adultery doth grow, and Vices do increase. You a Lady, a Bawd. O that Honour, the mark of Merit, should be plac'd on such base subjects as you are! Be gone, such Bawds as you are not only able to disor∣der a private Family, but to ruine a whole Kingdome; you are worse than Witches, and do more mischief.

Lady Chastity goes out.

Lady Procurer alone.

Procurer.

O that I had that power, to make her Husband so jealous, as he might hate her!

Exit.

Scene 28.

Enter the Lady Hypocondria, and Sir VVilliam Lovewell.

HYpocondria.

O Husband, I am a dead woman: for all my side is numb, nay in a dead Palsie, I cannot feel my Arm.

Lovewell.

Heaven forbid: let me rub your Arm.

He rubs her Arm.

But Wife, if it were dead, you could not move it, and you can move it, can you not?

Hypocondria.

Yes, but very weakly.

Lovewell.

Wrap it up with warm cloaths, until such time as the Doctor can be sent for. Come into your Chamber, and I will send for the Doctor strait.

Hypocon.

No, pray do not send for the Doctor now: for with your rubbing my Arm, you have brought the lively spirits into it again.

Lovewell.

I am glad of it; but pray keep your bed.

Exeunt.

Scene 29.

Enter the Lady Jealousies Waiting-Gentlewoman, and her Chamber-maid.

GEntlewoman.

My Lady doth not like her Caudle: wherefore she will have a Sack-posset made her.

Chambermaid.

Not like it? why she eat a great porrenger of it:

Gentlewoman.

That's all one, my Lady did not like it; and therefore you must make a Sack-posset,

Chambermaid.

What fault found she with it?

Gentlewoman.

She did not express her particular dislike, but in the ge∣neral.

Chambermaid.

Well, I shall make her a Posset strait.

Exeunt.

Scene 30.

Enter two servant-maids of the Lady Disagrees.

1 MAid.

Heaven be thanked, my Master and Lady are perfectly friends again: for she sits in his lap, and he kisses her very lovingly. Lord, what a disquietous house have we had!

Sir Humphry and his Lady make a noise within, as being fallen out again.

2 Maid.

Hark, what noise is that?

They hearken, and hear the Shovel and Tongs slung about.

Iuno bless us, I think they'l fling the house out at the windows.

The Lady calls for help.

1 Maid.

Run, run Iane, they are fallen out again, and will kill each other.

2 Maid.

O call the Chaplin to part them: for we shall never do it: Call him, call him.

Exeunt Maids in a frighted haste.

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.