Five nevv playes, viz. The English moor, or the mock-marriage. The love-sick court, or the ambitious politique: Covent Garden weeded. The nevv academy, or the nevv exchange. The queen and concubine. / By Richard Brome.

ACT. 4. SCENE. 4.

Millicent. Phillis.

Mil.

I have heard thy story often, and with pitty As often thought upon't, and that the father,

Of my best lov'd Theophilus, together with His, then, friend Master Meanwell (who have since Become each others deathsman astis thought) By suits in Law wrought the sad overthrow Of thy poor Fathers fortune; by which means, Poor Gentleman he was enforc'd to leave His native Country to seek forrain meanes To maintain life.

Phi.

Or rather to meet death. For since his traval, which is now six years, I never heard of him.

Mil.

Much pittiful!

Phi.

So is your story, Mistress unto me. But let us dry our eyes; and know we must not Stick in the mire of pitty; but with labour Work our delivery: yours is now at hand If you set will and brain to't. But my honor (If a poor wench may speak so) is so crack'd Within the ring, as 'twill be hardly solder'd By any art. If on that wicked fellow, That struck me into such a desperate hazard.

Mil.

He will be here to night, and all the crew And this must be the night of my delivery, I am prevented else for ever, wench.

Phi.

Be sure, among the guests, that you make choise Of the most civil one to be your convoy, And then let me alone to act your Mores part.

Mil.

Peace, he comes.

Enter Quic.

Phi.

Ile to my shift then.

Exit. Phi.

Quic.

Wher's my hidden beauty? That shall this night be glorious.

Mil.

I but wait the good hour For my deliverance out of this obscurity.

Quic.

Tis at hand. So are my guests. See some of'em are enter'd.

Enter Nat.

O my blith friend, Master Nathaniel, welcome.

Arthur.

And Master Arthur Meanwell as I take it.

Nat.

Yes, Sir, a Gentleman late posses'd with sadnes, Whom I had much a do to draw along To be partaker more of your mirth then chear. You say here shall be mirth. How now, what's that? Ha'vou a black coney berry in your house?

Quic.

Stay Catelina. Nay, she may be seen. For know, Sirs, I am mortified to beauty Since my wives death. I will not keep a face Better then this under my roof I ha'sworn.

Ar.

You were too rash, Sir, in that oath, if I Mav be allowed to speak.

Quic.

Tis done and past, Sir.

Nat.

If I be not taken with yon'd funeral face, And her two eyes the scutcheons, would I were whipt now.

Art.

Suppose your friends should wish you to a match Prosperous in wealth and honour.

Quic.

Ile hear of none, nor you if you speak so.

Art.

Sir, I ha'done.

Nat.

It is the handsom'st Rogue I have ere seen yet of a deed of darkness; Tawney and russet faces I have dealt with, But never came so deep in blackness yet.

Quic.

Come hither Catelyna. You shall see, Sir, What a brave wench she shall be made anon And when she dances how you shall admire her.

Art.

Will you have dancing here to night.

Quic.

Yes I have borrowed other Moors of Merchants That trade in Barbary, whence I had mine own here, And you shall see their way and skill in dancing.

Nat.

He keeps this Rie-loaf for his own white white tooth With confidence none will cheat him of a bit; Ile have a sliver though I loose my whittle.

Quic.

Here take this key, twill lead thee to those orna∣ments That deck'd thy mistress lately. Use her casket, And with the sparklingst of her jewels shine; Flame like a midnight beacon with that face,

Or a pitch'd ship a fire; the streamers glowing And the keel mourning, (how I shall rejoyce At these prepostrous splendours) get thee glorious; Be like a running fire-work in my house.

Nat.

He sets me more a fire at her. Well old stick breech If I do chance to clap your Barbary buttock In all her bravery, and get a snatch In an odd corner, or the dark to night To mend your chear, and you hereafter hear on't, Say there are as good stomacks as your own, Hist, Negro, hist.

Mil.

No fee, O no, I darea notta.

Nat.

Why, why—pish—pox I love thee,

Mil.

O no de fine white Zentilmanna Cannot a love a the black a thing a.

Nat.

Cadzooks the best of all wench.

Mill.

O take—a heed—a my mastra see—a.

Nat.

When we are alone, then wilt thou.

Mil.

Then I shall speak a more a.

Nat.

And Ile not lose the Moor-a for more then I Will speak-a.

Quic.

I muse the rest of my invited Gallants Come not away.

Nat.

Zooks the old angry justice.

Enter Testy.

Tes.

How comes it Sir, to pass, that such a newes Is spread about the town? is my Neece dead, And you prepar'd to mirth Sir, hah? Is this the entertainment I must find To welcome me to town?

Quic.

She is not dead, Sir. But take you no notice You shall have instantly an entertainment, that Shall fill you all with wonder.

Tes.

Sure he is mad; Or do you understand his meaning sirs? Or how or where his wife died?

Nat.

I know nothing;

But give me leave to fear, by his wild humor, He's guilty of her death; therefore I hope Hee'l hang himself anon before us all To raise the mirth he speaks of.

Art.

Fie upon you. Yet trust me, sir, there have been large constructions, And strong presumptions, that the ill made match Betwixt her youthful beauty and his covetous age; Between her sweetness and his frowardness Was the unhappy means of her destruction; And you that gave strength to that ill tied knot Do suffer sharply in the worlds opinion, While she, sweet virgin, has its general pity.

Tes.

Pray what have you been to her? I nere found you Appear a suiter to her.

Art.

I nere saw her, Nor ever should have sought her, Sir; For she Was onely love to my sworne enemy, On whom yet (were she living and in my gift Rather a thousand times I would bestow her Then on that man that had, and could not know her.

Tes.

I have done ill; and wish I could redeem This act with half my estate.

Nat.

This Devels bird, This Moor runs more and more still in my mind.

Enter Ʋin. & Edm.

O are you come? And ha'you brought your scene Of Mirth along with you?

Ʋin.

Yes, and our actors Are here at hand: But we perceive much business First to be set a foot. Here's Revels towards.

Ed.

A daunce of furies or of Blackamores Is practising within;

Ʋin.

But first there is to be some odd collation In stead of supper.

Nat.

Cheap enough I warrant, But saw you not a Moor-hen there amongst'em.

Ed.

A pretty little Rogue, most richly deck'd

With pearls, chains and jewels. She is queen Of the Nights triumph.

Nat.

If you ••h••nce to spy me Take her aside, say nothing.

Ed.

Thou wilt filch Some of her jewels perhaps.

Nat.

Ile draw a lot

Enter Quicksands.

For the best jewel she wears. But mum my Masters.

Quic.

Enter the house pray Gentlemen: I am ready Now with your entertainment.

Exit.

Tes.

Wee'l follow you.

Nat.

N••w for six penny custards, a pipkin of bak'd Pears, three sawcers of stew'd prunes, a groats worth Of strong ale, and two peniworth of Gingerbread.

Ext. 3.

Tes.

If she does live (as he bears me in hand She is not dead) Ile tell you briefly, Sir, If all the law bodily and ghostly, And all the conscience too, that I can purchase With all the wealth I have can take her from him, I will recover her, and then bestow her (If you refuse her) on your so you speak of, (whose right she is indeed) rather then he Shall hold her longer. Now mine eyes are open'd. Will you walk in.

Ar.

I pray excuse me, Sir,

Exi••, Enter Mili. white. fac'd & in her ovvn habit.

I cannot fit my self to mirth.

Tes.

Your pleasure. Mil. Have I with patience waited for this ••ou••, And does fear check me now? I'le break through all, And trust my self with yon'd mildeGentleman. He cannot but be noble.

Art.

A goodly creature! The Rooms illumin'd with her; yet her look Sad, and cheek pale, as if a sorrow suck'd it. Hovv came she in? What is she? I am fear▪struck. Tis some unresting shaddow. Or, if not,

What makes a thing so glorious in this house, The master being an enemy to beauty? She modestly makes to me.

Mil.

Noble Sir,—

Art.

Speaks too.

Mil.

If ever you durst own a goodness, Now crown it by an act of honour and mercy.

Art.

Speak quickly; lose no time then: say, what are you? You look like one that should not be delai'd.

Mil.

I am th'unfortunate woman of this house, To all mens thoughts at rest. This is the face On which the Hell of jealousie abus'd The hand of Heaven, to fright the world withall.

Ar.

Were you the seeming Moor was here?

Mil.

The same; And onely to your secresie and pitty I have ventur'd to appear my self again.

Ar.

What's to be done? Pray speak, and tis perform'd.

Mil.

In trust and Manhood Sir, I would commit A great charge to you, even my life and honor To free me from this den of misery.

Art.

A blessed tasque! But when you are freed Lady—

Mil.

I would desire Sir, then to be convei'd.—

Ar.

Whither? to whom? speak quickly: why do you stoop?

Mil.

Pray let that rest. I will relieve your trouble When I am freed from hence, and use some others.

Art.

Nay, that were cruelty. As you love goodness tell me.

Mil.

Why dare you bear me Sir, to one you hate.

Art.

What's that, if you love? Tis your peace I wait on. I look upon your service, not mine own. Were he the mortall'st enemy flesh bred up To you I must be noble.

Mil.

You profess—

Ar.

By all that's good and gracious, I will die Ere I forsake you, and not set you safe Within those walls you seek.

Mil.

Then, as we pass Ile tell you where they stand, Sir.

Ar.

You shall grace me.

Exit.