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

ACT IV.

Scene 31.

Enter Mistriss Odd-Humour, and her Maid Nan.

MIstriss Odd-Humour.

Oh Nan I am undone for ever.

Nan.

As how Mistriss?

Mistriss Odd-Humour.

Why by your neglect and carelessness; for your not watching my Fathers coming home, to give me notice, my Father hath found my Chair: for I hearing him come, run to hide a-way my Chair, he coming and seeing me scuttle about the room, imagined I desired to hide something from him, for which he searches all my Chamber over, at last he went and looked into the Cole-hole where I had flung my Chair, and finding it, he car∣ried it a-way in one hand, and led me a-long in the other hand, and causing a fire to be made of the Chair, made me stand by to see the Martyrdome, whereat I was so afflicted, as I lost my fight in tears, which tears I let run on the fire, hoping to quench it out, but they were so brind with grief, as they did rather augment the fury of the fire, than abate the rage of the flame; so that which I thought would have been a preserver did hasten the destruction.

Nan.

Faith Mistriss it is none of my fault, for your Mother sent me of an errand, and whilst I was absent by your Mothers commands, it seem'd your Father came home.

Mistriss Odd-Humour.

This is an excuse.

Nan.

You may believe it 'tis no excuse, but truth; for I that ventured the loss of my Soul by telling a lie to save your Chair, would not neglect the watch, had not I been commanded away.

Mistriss Odd-Humour.

I am of an opinion you were brib'd to betray the life of my Chair, and bribes are so powerfull as they corrupt promises and vows, even the Soul its self; though the Soul makes no use of bribes, yet it will venture to be damn'd for a bribes sake.

Nan.

Well Mistriss, since a mistrust is all my reward, you shall tell the next lie your self.

Mistriss Odd-Humour.

No prethee Nan let us be friends, for I shall never get a Servant that will so readily tell lyes for me as you do; wherefore let us shake hands and be friends.

They shake hands.

Nan.

VVell Mistriss, let me tell you, that my hand and tongue is at your service, the one to work, the other to lie for your service.

Mistriss Odd-Humour.

I thank you Nan, for many Servants will lie, but few will work.

Exeunt.

Scene 32.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1 GEnt.

The Lord Melancholy hath such a sober, sad Countenance, as I never saw any young man have the like.

2 Gent.

Indeed I never saw him smile in my life.

1 Gent.

I askt a Gentleman that waits on him, whether his Lord did ever smile, he said he never saw him smile since he parted from his first Lady.

2 Gent.

Then he hath not smiled this nine years, for so long it is since he parted from his first Lady.

1 Gent.

If the siege last one year more, it will be as long a siege as the siege of Troy.

2 Gent.

Indeed the causes of either siege resembles each other, as both for the love of fair Ladyes; I know not whether the effect will prove alike, as whether it will be the destruction of his heart, as the siege of Troy wa•• the destruction of Troy.

1 Gent.

But the Lord Melancholy is rather like Hellen than Menelaus, for he hath had two wives, and the Lady Perfection is as Menelaus, for her Hus∣band is taken away from her, as his wife was from him; but leaving this siege let us return to our own homes.

Exeunt.

Scene 33.

Enter the Lord Melancholy as the Grate of the Cloyster of the Lady Perfection, then she draws the Curtain before the Grate, and appears to him.

LOrd Melancholy.

Madam, yesterday when you were pleased to speak with me, as now through this Grate, you were pleas'd to tell me your Vows were so binding as they could not be dissolved; wherefore I am not now come to examine, or perswade, nor to trouble your Devotions, or to hinder your Meditations, but to take my last leave, for I shall never see you more, at least not in this VVorld.

Lady Perfection.

Are you going to Travel?

Lord Melancholy.

I cannot say my body is going a far Journey, I know not what my Soul may do.

Lady Perfection.

Shall not they go together?

Lord Melancholy.

No, Death will make a divorce, as the Law did be∣twixt you and I.

Lady Perfection.

Are you resolved to dye?

Lord Melancholy.

Yes.

Lady Perfection.

VVhy so?

Lord Melancholy.

To be at rest and peace: for know, that ever since I was last married, my life hath been a Hell, my Mind was tortured with thoughts of discontent, and though I am releast from what I did dislike, my mind is restless still for what it would enjoy; this resolution is not new, it hath been long considered; for since I cannot live with that I love better than life, ile try whether the passions of the Soul doe with the Body dye, if so, Death will be happy, because it hath no sense nor feeling.

Lady Perfection.

How long have you been resolved of leaving life?

Lord Melancholy.

I have pondered of it ever since I was last Married, but was not resolved untill you enter'd into this Order.

Lady Perfection.

Can I not perswade you to live?

Lord Melancholy.

Not unless you break your Vow.

Lady Perfection.

That I may not do.

Lord Melancholy.

Nor can I perswade you, for I love your Constancy.

Lady Perfection.

Will you grant me one request before you dy?

Lord Melancholy.

Yes, any thing but what may hinder my dying.

Lady Perfection.

Swear to me you will.

Lord Melancholy.

I swear by Heaven and Love I will.

Lady Perfection.

Then the time you are resolved to dye, come hither and dye here, that I may bear you Company, dying the same minute if I can that you do.

Lord Melancholy.

How?

Lady Perfection.

Nay, you have sworn it, and if it be best for you, it will be so for me; for when you are dead I shall possess those torments that you in life feel now, and if you love me so well as you express you do, you will not desire to leave me to endure that you cannot suffer.

Lord Melancholy.

'Tis fit you should live to be a President to the World.

Lady Perfection.

Were I a President fit for the World to follow, yet the World would not practice my precepts, it is too bad to follow what is good, and since my life cannot better the World, and Death will ease my life of that which will trouble and afflict it, I am resolv'd to dye. And in the grave will bear you Company.

Lord Melancholy.

I do accept of thy dear Company, & Heaven so joyn our Souls they never may be separated, and to morrow we will leave the World.

Lady Perfection.

Let me advise you concerning the manner of our Deaths, get a Sword pointed sharp at both ends, and when we are to dye put one end of the Sword through this grate, and just when you set your heart to the end towards you, I will set mine to the end towards me, and thrusting forward as to meet each other, the several points will make several passages or wounds into our several or rather our own united hearts, and so we dye just together.

Lord Melancholy.

I shall follow your advice, and be here to morrow at the time.

Which time will seem to me like as an Age, Till that our Souls be fled forth from their Cage.

Lady Perfection.

My Soul will fly your Soul to imbrace, And after Death may hope a resting place.

Exeunt.