Playes (1662) - Loves Adventures

The Lord Fatherly.
The Lord Singularity.
His Sonne.
Sir Serious Dumbe.
Sir Timothy Complement.
Sir Humphry Bolde.
Sir Roger Exception.
Sir Peaceable Studious.
Foster Trusty.
The Lady Orphant.

The Lady Ignorant wife to Sir Peaceable Studious.
The Lady Bashfull.
The Lady Wagtaile.
The Lady Amorous.
Mrs. Acquaintance. Nurse Hondly Foster Trusties wise.
Lady Orphans Nurse.
Mrs. Reformers woman to the Lady Bashfull.
Two Chamber-Maydes.

Prologue.

Noble Spectators, you are come to see,
A Play, if good, perchance may clapped be;
And yet our Authoresse sayes that she hath heard,
Some playes, though good, hath not been so preferr’d;
As to be mounted up on high raised praise,
And to be Crown’d with Garlands of fresh hayes:
But the contrary have been hissed off,
Out from our Stage with many a censuring scoff;
But afterwards there understanding cleer’d,
They gave the praise, what they before had jeer’d.
The same she sayes may to her Play befall,
And your erroneous censures may recall:
But all such Playes as take not at first sight,
But afterwards the viewers takes delight:
It seemes there is more wit in such a Play,
Than can be understood in one whole day:
If for, she is well content for her wits sake,
From ignorance repulses for to take;
For she had rather want those understanding braines,
Than that her Play should want wits flowing veynes.

ACT I.

Scene I.

Enter the Lord Fatherly, and the Lord Singularity his Son.

Lord Singularity. Pray, Sir, do not force me to marry a childe, before you know whether she will prove vertuous, or discreet; when for the want of that knowledge, you may indanger the honour of your Line and Posterity, with Cuckoldry and Bastardry.

Lord Fatherly. Son, you must leave that to fortune.

Lord Singularity. A wise man, Sir, is to be the maker or spoiler of his own fortune.

Lord Fatherly. Let me tell you Son, the wisest man that is, or ever was, may be deceived in the choosing a wife, for a woman is more obscure than nature her self, therefore you must trust to chance, for marriage is a Lottery, if you get a prize, you may live quietly and happily.

Lord Singularity. But if I light of a blank, as a hundred to one, nay a thousand to one but I shall, which is on a Fool or a Whore, her Follies or Adulteries, instead of a praise, will found out my disgrace.

Lord Fatherly. Come, Come, she is Rich, she is Rich.

Lord Singularity. Why Sir, guilded I •o•ns are most visible.

Lord Fatherly. ‘Tis better, Son, to have a rich whore than a poor whore, but I hope Heaven hath made her Chast, and her Father being an honourable, honest, and wise man, will breed her vertuously, and I make no question but you will be happy with her.

Lord Singularity. But Sir, pray consider the inequality of our ages, she being but a Child, and I at mans Estate; by that time she is ready for the marriage bed: I shall be ready for the grave, and youths sharp appetites, will never rellish Age, wherefore she will seek to please her pallat else where.

Lord Fatherly. Let me tell you, Son, should you marry a woman that were as many years older, than she is younger than you; it were a greater hazard, for first old women are more intemperate than young: and being older than the husband, they are apt to be jealouse, and being jealouse, they grow malitious, and malice seeks revenge, and revenge disgrace, therefore she would Cuckold you meerly to disgrace you.

Lord Singularity. On the other side, those Women that are marryed young, Cuckholds there Husbands fames dishonouring them by their ignorant follyes, and Childish indiscretions, as much as with Adultery. And I should assoon choose to be a Cuckhold, as to be thought to be one: For my honour will suffer as much by the one as the other, if not more.

Lord Fatherly. Heaven blesse the, Sonne, from jealousy, for thou art horrible afraid of being a Cuckold.

Lord Singularity. Can you blame me, Sir, since to be a Cuckhold is to be despised, scorned, laught, and pointed at, as a Monster worse than nature ever made, and all the Honour that my birth gave me and my education indued me, my vertue gained me, my industry got me; fortune bestowed on me, and fame inthron’d me for: may not only be lost by my wifes Adultery, but as I said by her indiscretion, which makes me wonder, how any man that hath a Noble Soul, dares marry since all his honour lyes or lives in the light heels of his wife, which every little passion is apt to kick away, wherefore good Sir, let me live a single life.

Lord Fatherly. How Son, would you have me consent to extinguish the light of my Name, and to pull out the root of my posterity.

Lord Singularity. Why Sir, it were better to lye in dark oblivion, than to have a false light to devulge your disgrace; and you had better pull out the root, than to have a branch of dishonour ingrafted therein:

Lord Fatherly. All these Arguments against Marriage is because you would injoy your Mistresses with freedom; fearing you should be disturbed by a wife.

Lord Singularity. That needs not, for I observe, married Men takes as much liberty, if not more than Batchellors; for Batchellors are affraid they should challenge a promise of Marriage, and married Men are out of that danger.

Lord Father. Then that is the reason that Batchellors Court Married wives, and Married Men Courts Maides; but howsoever Son, if all Men should be of your mind, there would be no Marring nor giving in Marriage; but all must be in Common.

Lord Singularity. That were best Sir, for then there could be no Adultery committed, or Cuckolds made.

Lord Fatherly. For shame take courage, and be not a fraid of a Woman.

Lord Singularity. By Heaven Sir, I would sooner yield up my life to death, thau venture my honour to a womans management.

Lord Father. Well Son, I shall not force you with threates or commands to marry against your will and good likeing; but I hope Heaven will turn your mind towards marriage, and sent thee a loving, vertuous and discreet wife.

Scene 2.

Enter the Lady Wagtaile, the Lady Amorous, Sir Timothy Compliment, Sir Humphrey Bold, and Sir Roger Exception.

Sir Timothy Compliment. Bright beauty, may I be Servant.

Lady Amorous. If I have any beauty, it was begot in your Eyes. And takes light from your commendations.

Sir Timothy Compliment. You are Lady, the Starre of your Sex.

Lady Amorous. No truely, I am but a Meteor that soon goeth out.

Lady Wagtaile. Preethy Sir Timothy Compliment, and Lady Amorous, do not stand prating here, but let us go a broad to some place to devert the time.

Lady Amorous. Dear Wagtaile, whether shall we goe?

Sir Timothy Compliment. Faith let us go to a Play.

Sir Humphrey Bold. Let’s go to a Tavern.

Sir Roger Exception. What with Ladyes!

Sir Humphrey Bold. Why, Ladyes have been in Tavernes before now.

Sir Roger Exception. It were as good to carry them to a Bawdy-house.

Sir Humphrey Bold. As good say you, faith now I think of it, better; it were the only place to pass a way idle time. Come Ladyes shall we go.

Lady Amorous. Whether?

Sir Humphrey Bold. To a Bawdy-house.

Lady Amorous. O sve! sve! Sir Humphrey Bold; how wantonly you talk?

Lady Wagtaile. But would you carry us in good earnest to a Bawdy-house?

Sir Humphrey Bold. Why, do you question it, when every house is a secret Bawdy-house. Na! Let me tell you, there be many Right Worshipfull, Nay, Right Honourable, and most Noble Pallaces made Bawdy-houses.

Sir Roger Exception. Some perchance that are old and ruinous, and the right owners out.

Sir Humphrey Bold. No, some that are new, large, and finely furnished; and the owners stately, proud, scornfull, and jeering, living therein.

Sir Roger Exception. They should take heed of jeering, least they be jeered, and of being scornfull, least they be scorned.

Sir Humphrey Bold. What say you Ladyes, are you resolved.

Lady Wagtaile. No, No, we will not go with you to such places now; but I will carry you to a young Lady whose Father is newly dead, and hath left her all his Estate; and she is become a great heir.

Sir Roger Exception. Perchance Lady she will not receive our visit, if her Father be newly dead.

Lady Wagtaile. I perceive you are ignorant of Funerall customes, for widdowes, heires, and heiresses receives visits whilst the Corpes lyes above ground: And they will keep them so much the longer, to have so many more visitants: nay, sometimes they will keep them so long, as there dissembling is perceived, or so long as they stink above ground; for if they bury not the Corpes and set empty Coffins for want of imbalming, their miserableness will stench up the Nostrils of their vanity.

Sir Roger Vanity. Nay by your savour Lady, there are some that are buried whilst they are steeming hot. Sir Humphrey Bold.

Those are only such whose Executors, widdowes, or widdowers, seares they may revive again, and rather than that they should do so, they will bury them alive.

Lady Wagtaile. You say rightly true, Sir Humphrey Bold.

Sir Timothy Compliment. Sweet beautyes, let us go to see this Rich heiress.

Lady Amorous. Content.

Sir Roger Exception. But Ladyes are you acquainted with her.

Lady Wagtaile. O no! But you may know that all women rather than want visits, they will go to those they never saw, nor spoak to: but only heares of them; and where they live, and I can direct the Coachman to this Ladyes Lodging, wherefore let us go.

Sir Humphrey Bold. I shall not deny to visit a Rich heiress.

Sir Roger Exception. I shall waite upon you Ladyes, but—

Lady Wagtaile. Nay, never make buts, but let’s go.

Lady Amorous. Pray let us call Sir Serious Dumb, to go along with us.

Lady Wagtaile. Faith Amorous you love his Company, because he can tell no tales.

Sir Humphrey Bold. Pray call him not, but let him alone: for I dare sweare he is inventing of some useless and foolish Art.

Sir Timothy Compliment. Is he so inventive say you, but if his inventions is useless, he invents in vain.

Sir Roger Exception. Why may not a Dumb mans Inventions be as good as a blind, for the most usefullest Artes were invented, as the learned saith, by one born blind.

Lady Wagtaile. Me thinkes a dumb man should not have much wit, for by my troath one that is dumb seemes to me like a fool; nay, one that speakes but little: I cannot for my life but condemn him, or her for an Ass.

Sir Humphrey Bold. He may be a fool, although he may chance to light on some inventions; for Artes are oftner produced from chance than wit, but let us go and leave him.

Lady Wagtaile whispers to Sir H. Bold.

Lady Wagtaile. Faith Sir Humphrey Bold, we must call him, or otherwise my friend Amorous will be out of humour.

Sir Humphrey Bold. Doth she love silence so well.

Lady Wagtaile No, no, it is that she loves secrecy so well.

Exit.

CHORUS. In a minutes time is flown From a Child, to Woman grown; Some will smile, or laughing say; This is but a foolish Play; By Reason a Comedy, should of one dayes action be, Let them laugh and so will I At there great simplicity; I as other Poets brings Severall Nations, Subjects, Kings All to Act upon one stage, So severall times in one Age.

Scene 3.

Enter the Lady Orphant, and Mrs. Acquaintance.

MIstriss Acquaintance. How do you know the Lord Singularity is such a gallant man? For he hath been out of the Kingdom this 7. yeares; wherefore, you could have no acquaintance, you being yet very young.

Lady Orphant. Although I have no acquaintance by sight, or experienced knowledge; yet by report I have: for I remembred I heard my Father say, he was the honour of the Age, the glory of our Nation; and a pattern for all mankind to take a sample from, and that his person was answerable to his merrits, for he said he was a very handsome man, of a Masculine presence, a Courtly garbe, and affable and courteous behaviour; and that his wit was answerable •• his merits, person, and behaviour, as that he had a quick wit, a solid judgment, a ready tongue and a smooth speech.

Mrs. Acquaintance. And did your Father proffer you to be his wife.

Lady Orphant. Yes, and I remember my father sighing said, he should have died in peace, and his soul would have rested in quiet, if he had been pleased to have accepted of me.

Mrs. Acquaintance. When did your Father proffer you.

Lady Orphant. When I was but a Child:

Mrs. Acquaintance. He is not married, and therefore he may chance to accept of you now, if you were profer’d.

Lady Orphant. That were but to be refused again, for I heare he is resolved never to marry, and it will be a greater disgrace to be refused now I am grown to womans Estate, than when I was but a Child, besides my Father is dead, and my marring can give him no content in the grave; unless his soul could view the world and the severall actions therein.

Mrs. Acquaintance. So, is his Father dead.

Lady Orphant. Yes, and I here that is the cause he cares not to return into his native Country.

Mrs. Acquaintance. I have a friend that hath his picture.

Lady Orphant. Is it a he or a she friend.

Lady Acquaintance. A she friend.

Lady Orphant. Pray be so much my friend, as to get your friends consent to shew me the Picture.

Mrs. Acquaintance. Perchance I may get it to view it my self, but I shall never perswade her to lend it you, jealousy will forbid her.

Lady Orphant. She hath no cause to fear me, for I am not one to make an Amorous Mrs. and I have heard he will never marry.

Mrs. Acquaintance. That is all one; woman hath hopes as much as feares, or doubts what ever men doth vow for, or against.

Lady Orphant. Pray send to her to lend it you, and then you may shew it me.

Mrs. Acquaintance. I will try if she will trust me with it.

Exit.

Lady Orphant Solus. O Heaven, grant that the praise my Father gave this Lord whilst in the world he lived, prove not as curses to me his Child, so grieve his soul with my unhappy life.

Exit.

Scene 4.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Mrs. Reformer her woman; she being in yeares.

MIstriss Reformer. Madam, now you are become a Mrs. of a Family, you must learn to entertain visitants, and not be so bashfull as you were wont to be, insomuch as you had not confidence to look a stranger in the face, were they never so mean persons.

Lady Bashfull. Alas Reformer, it is neither their birth, breeding, wealth, or title, that puts me out of Countenance; for a poor Cobler will put me as much out of Countenance as a Prince; or a poor Semestress, as much as a great Lady.

Mrs. Reformer. What is it then?

Lady Bashfull. Why there are unacustomated faces, and unacquainted humours.

Mrs. Reformer. By this reason, you may be as much out of countenance as an unacustomed Dogg, or Cat, that you never saw before; or any other beast.

Lady Bashfull. O no, for mankind is worse natured than boasts, and beasts better natured than men; besides beasts lookes not with censuring eyes, nor heares, or listens with inquisitive cares, nor speakes with detracting tongues, nor gives false judgment, or spitefull censures, or slandering reproaches, nor jeeres, nor laughs at innocent or harmless Errours, nor makes every little mistake a crime.

Enter the Lady Bashfulls Page.

Page. Madam, there is a Coachfull of gallants allighted at the gate.

Lady Bashfull. For heavens sake, say I have no desire to be seen.

Reformer. No, say my Lady is full of grief and is not fit to receive visits. Enter the Ladyes and Gentlemen. Whereat the Lady Bashfull stands trembling and shaking, and her eyes being cast to the ground, and her face as pale as death. They speak to Reformer.

Where is the Lady Bashfull, pray Gentlewoman tell her we are come to kiss her hands. Reformer offers to go forth.

Lady Wagtaile. Will you do us the favour old Gentlewoman, as to let the Lady know we are here.

Reformer. If I am not so old as to be insensible, this is she.

Lady Wagtaile. Is this she, alas good Lady, she is not well, for surely she hath a sit of an Ague upon her, she doth so shake; you should give her a Carduus-possit and put her to bed.

Lady Amorous. Lady, are you sick.

She Answers not.

Lady Wagtaile. She is sick indeed, if she be speechless.

Reformer. Madam, pray pull up your spirits, and entertain this honourable Company.

Lady Wagtaile. Why is the defect in her spirits.

Reformer. She is young and bashfull.—

They all laugh, except Sir Roger Exception, and _Sir Serious Dumb._Ha! Ha! She is out of countenance.

Sir Roger Exception. No she is angry, because we are strangers unknown unto her; and she takes it for a rudeness that we are come to visit her, therefore let us be gone.

Lady Amorous. Let me tell you, it is meer shamefacedness.

Sir Roger Exception. I say no, for those that are angry will shake extreamly, and turn as pale as death.

Sir Humphrey Bold. Lady, take courage, and look upon us with a confident brow.

All the while Sir Serious Dumb lookes on the Lady Bashfull with sixt eyes. The Lady Bashfull offers to speak to the Company, but cannot for stuttering; they all laugh again at her.

Reformer. Lord, Madam I will you make your self ridiculous.

Lady Bashfull. I cannot help it, for my thoughts are consumed in the fiery flame of my blushes; and my words are smothered in the smoak of shame.

Lady Wagtaile. O! she speakes, she speakes a little.

Reformer. Pray Madam leave her at this time, and if you honour her with your Company again, she may chance to entertain you with some confidence.

Lady Wagtaile. Pray let me and Sir Humphry Bold come and visit her once a day, if it be but halfe an hour at a time, and we shall cure her I warrant thee.

Reformer. I wish she were cured of this imperfection.

Sir Humphry Bold. She must marry, she must marry, for there is no cure like a husband, for husbands beget confidence, and their wives are brought a bed with impudence.

Lady Wagtaile. By your favour Sir Humphry Bold, marriage must give way or place to courtship, for there are some wives as simply bashfull as Virgins; but when did you ever see, or know, or hear of courtly lovers, or Amorous courtships, to be bashfull: Their eyes are as piercing as light, and twinckles as Starrs, and their countenance as confident as day; and the discourses is freer than wind.

He imbraces her.

Sir Humphry Bold. And your imbraces are wondrous kind.

Lady Wagtaile. In troth we women love you men but too well, that is the truth of it.

Sir Roger Exception. Pray Madam let us go, and not stay to anger this young Lady as we do.

Lady Wagtaile. Farewell friend, Sir Humphry Bold and I will visit your Lady to morrow.

As they were all going away, the Lady Wagtaile turnes back again.

Lady Wagtaile. Pray what may I call your name.

Reformer. My name is Reformer.

Lady Wagtaile. Good Mrs. Reformer, I am heartily glad to see you well.

Reformer. I thank you Ladyship.

All goeth away but Sir Serious Dumb, and he stayes a little time to look upon the Lady Bashfull, and then goeth out. Ex. The Lady Bashfull Sola, and after they were all gone she stretches up herself.

Lady Bashfull. O in what a torment I have been in; holl is not like it.

Exit.

Scene 5.

Enter the Lady Orphant, and Mrs. Acquaintance.

Lady Orphant. Have you got the Picture?

Mrs. Acquaintance. Yes, but I have seen handsomet men in my opinion than this Picture doth represent.

The Lady Orphant takes the Picture and views it with a stedfast eye.

Lady Orphant. I perceive you have no judgment in the Originall, nor skill in the Copy; for this Picture is most naturally penselled, the Painter hath drawn it so lively. That one may perceive his noble Soul to appear through his lovely, and lively Countenance; do but observe it well, and you will see as much as I.

Mrs. Acquaintance. That is impossible, unless I had your heart, for though my skill of the Copy, or shadow, may be as much as yours, yet my affections to the Originall is less; which makes my eyes not partiall.

Lady Orphant. What will the owner take for that Picture?

Mrs. Acquaintance. She will not sell it at any rate:

Lady Orphant. I wish she would, for I would buy it at any price.

Mrs. Acquaintance. She prizes it as highly as you, loving him as much; or well (as you do.)

Lady Orphant. How know you that?

Mrs. Acquaintance. Because I know she hath given him proofs of her love, which I believe you never did.

Lady Orphant. You mistake lust for love, ambition, for merit, I love not for the bodyes sake, but for the soules pure spirit.

Ex.

ACT II.

Scene 6.

Enter two Merchants.

MErchant. I hear the Lord Singularity hath given the Turkes a great defeat, he is both a wise, prudent, and valiant man.
Merchant. Methinkes our Nation should not suffer such a person as he, to hazard his life in the service of other Countryes.
Merchant. O it is an honour to our Nation, to let the world know what gallant men it breeds, besides our Nation is in peace with all the world; and he being active, hates to live idly, and dully at home, although he have a great estate, and is well beloved in his Country.
Merchant. What command doth the Venetians give him?
Merchant. He is a Generall, for he commands a great Army.
Merchant. Is he marryed?
Merchant. No, and it is reported he never will marry, but he loves Mistrisses well, which all Souldiers doth for the most part.
Merchant. Then Italy is the best Countrey in the world for a souldier, there being the greatest store and most variety of Curtezans, for many of the Italians are, as many are in other Nations, rather Carpet-Knights, then fighting souldiers, they have more skill in setting musicall notes, than pitching a battle; in kissing a Mistrisses hand with a good grace, than shooting of a Cannon bullet with a great courage; they can take better aime at a window, than of an enemy. And though they often receive woundes, yet they are from fair Venus, not from cruell Mars.
Merchant. But Mars souldiers when they skirmish in loves duels, receives woundes as often from fair Venus, as other men, and Italy hath as many gallant valliant men, bred and born in her, as any other Nation; and there are as many Carpet-Knights in other Nations, as in Italy; and if valiant, and gallant men be indued with vertue, they are not the less to be esteemed; and as for Curtizans, all Nations is stored as much as Italy, but they do not so openly prefess it, as those in Italy doth.
Merchant. For my part, I cannot think they are so good Souldiers as they were in Caesars time.
Merchant. That may be, for there is no such souldiers as Caesars souldiers were, no not in the world; that is, there are no men so patient, obedienz, carefull, industrious, laborious, daring, adventurous, resolute, and active, in these Warrs, in this age, as the Romans were in Caesars time; and of all the souldiers, Caesars souldiers were the best, and of all commanders Caesar himself, yet those warriers was not less courtly to the feminine sex, than these of this age; and if you did talk with an understanding Souldier, he would tell you that Amors gave an edge to courage, and that it is a mark of a gallant man, and a brave souldier to be an Amarato; and as for the Curtizans of Italy, if there can be an honest act in a dishonest life, it is that the Curtizans in Italy professes what they are; so that men are, not deceived by them, nor betrayed into marriage; wherein other Nations men are cozened with counterfeit modesty, and drawn into marriage by pretended chastity, and then dishonoured by soul adultery, or shamed by marrying a private Curtizan, not knowing she was so.
Merchant. I perceive by thee, that Merchants loves a Mistris as well as a Souldier.
Merchant. Surely by thy talk thou art ignorant of thy own profession, which is to trade, and traffick into all Nations, and with all sorts; but yet, Merchants may be Souldiers if they will, and Souldiers may be Merchants if they please; but the truth is all men in the world are Merchants.
Merchant. No, beggers are not.
Merchant. But they are, for they traffick with prayers and praises for almes.
Merchant. The best Merchants I know are Priests, for they trade into Heaven; and traffick with Iove.
Merchant. That makes them so poor, for heavens commoditie are not saleable on earth.

Ex.

Scene 7.

Enter the Lady Orphant, Nurse Fondly, _Foster Trusty._

Lady Orphant. Dear Nurse and Foster Father, grant to my desires and assist my designs.

Nurse Fondly. What to let you wander about the world like a Vagabond, besides it is against the modesty of your Sex.

Lady Orphant. Are holy Pilgrimes Vagabonds, or is it immodest for the bodies of devout soules to travell to the sacred Tombe to offer penetentiall tears.

Nurse Fondly. Why, you are no Pilgrime, nor is your journey to a godly end.

Lady Orphant. My journey will be to an honest end, for though I am loves Pilgrime, yet I shall travell to an honest heart; there to offer my pure affections.

Nurse Fondly. To a deboist man, there to offer your Virginity.

Lady Orphant. Mistake me not, for though I love beyond a common rate, even to an extream degree, yet I am chastly honest, and so shall ever be; my grave shall witness my constancy.

The Lady Orphant weeping. Ex.

Foster Trusty. Beshrew your tongue wife for speaking so sharply to our young Lady, she was left to our trust, care, and tender usage, and not to be snapt and quarrelled with.

Nurse Fondly. Yes, and you would betray your trust to her childish folly.

Foster Trusty. No that I would not, neither would I venture or yield up her life to loves melancholly.

Nurse Fondly. Come, Come husband, you humour her too much, and that will spoile her I am sure.

Ex.

Scene 8.

Enter Sir Peaceable Studious with a Book in his hand; a Table being set out, whereon is Pen, Ink and Paper. After he hath walked a turn or two, with his eyes fixt upon the ground, he sits down to the Table, and begins to write. Enter the Lady Ignorant his Wife.

Lady Ignorant. Lord Husband! I can never have your company, for you are at all times writing, or reading, or turning your Globes, or peaking thorough your Prospective Glasse, or repeating Verses, or speaking Speeches to your self.

Sir P. Studious. Why wife, you may have my company at any time, Nay, never to be from me if you please, for I am alwaies at home.

Lady Ignorant, ‘Tis true, your person is alwaies at home, and fixt to one place, your Closet as a dull dead statue to the side of a wall, but your mind and thoughts are alwaies abroad.

Sir P. Studious The truth is, my mind sometimes sends out my thoughts like Coye ducks, to bring more understanding in.

Lady Ignorant, You mistake Husband, for your thoughts are like vain, or rather like false Scouts that deceives your understanding, imprisons your senses, and betrayes your life to a dull solitariness.

Sir P. Studious. ‘Tis better to live a quiet solitary life, than a troublesome and an uneasie life.

Lady Ignorant. What is a man born for, but to serve his Countrey, side with his friends, and to please the esseminate Sex.

Sir P. Studious. You say right wife, and to serve his Countrey, is to finde out such inventions as is usefull either in Peace or War; and to form, order and settle Common-wealths by Denizing Laws, which none but studious brains e’re did, or can do. Tis true, practice doth pollish beauty and adorn, but neither layes the Foundation, nor brings the Materials, nor builds the walls thereof; and to side with friends, is to defend Right and Truth with sound arguments and strong proofs, from the tyrannical usurpation of false opinions, vain phantasines, malicious satires, and flattering oratorie, and to please the effeminate Sex, is to praise their beauty, wit, vertue and good graces in soft Numbers, and smooth Language, building up Piramides of poetical praises, Printing their fame thereon, by which they live to After-ages.

Lady Ignorant. Prithy Husband mistake us not, for women cares not for wide mouthed fame; and we take more delight to speak our selves whilst we live, than to be talked of when we are dead, and to take our present pleasures, than to abstain our selves for After-ages.

Sir P. Studeous. Well wife, what would you have me do?

Lady Ignorance. Why, I would have you so sociable, as to sit and discourse with our friends and acquaintance, and play the good fellow amongst them.

Sir P. Studious. What need we to have any other friends than our selves; our studies, books and thoughts.

Lady Ignorance. Your studies, books and thoughts, are but dull acquaintance, melancholly companions, and weak friends.

Sir P. Studious. You do not wife consider their worth; for books are conversable, yet silent acquaintance, and study, is a wise Counsellor; and kind friends, and poetical thoughts are witty Companions, wherein other Societies and Companies are great inconveniences, and oftimes produces evil effects, as Jealousie, Adulterie, Quarrels, Duels, and Death, besides slanders, back•itings and the like.

Lady Ignorance. Truly Husband, you are strangely mistaken; for those Societies as I would have you frequent, doth Sing, Dance, Rallie, make Balls Masks, Playes, Feasts, and the like, and also makes Frollicks or Rubices, or Playes, at Questions and Commands, Purposes or Ridles, and twenty such like Pastimes and fine sports they have.

Sir P. Studious. But surely Wife you would not like this kind of life, nor I neither; especially if we were in one and the same Company; for perchance you may hear wanton Songs sung, and see amorous glances, or rude or immodest Actions, and when you dance, have a secret nip, and gentle gripe of the band silently to declare their amorous affections; and when you are at Questions or Commands, you will be commanded to kiss the men, or they you, which I shall not like, neither should you; or if they are commanded to pull of your Garter, which no chast and modest woman will suffer, nor no gallant man, or honourable husband will indure to stand by to see, and if you refuse, you disturb the rest of the Company, and then the women falls out with you in their own defence, and the men takes it as an affront, and disgrace, by reason none refuses but you; This causes quarrels with Strangers, or quarrels betwixt our selves.

Lady Ignorant, ‘Tis true, if the Company were not Persons of Quality which were civilly bred; but there is no rude Actions, or immodest behaviours offered or seen amongst them; Besides, if you do not like those sports, you may play at Cardes or Dice to pass away the time.

Sir. P. Studious. But Wife, let me examine you, have or do you frequent these Societies that you speak so Knowingly, Learnedly and Affectionately of?

Lady Ignorance. No otherwise Husband, but as I have heard, which reports makes me desire to be acquainted with them.

Sir P. Studious. Well, you shall, and I will bear you company, to be an Eye-witness how well you behave your self, and how you profit thereby.

Lady Ignorance. Pray Husband do, for it will divert you from your too serious studies, and deep thoughts, which feeds upon the health of your body, which will shorten your life; and I love you so well, as I would not have you dye, for this I perswade you to, is for your good.

Sir P. Studious. We will try how good it is.

Ex.

Scene 9.

Enter Nurse Fondley, and Foster Trusty her Husband.

Nurse Fondly. How shall I keep your Journey secret, but that every body will know of it.

Foster Trusty. We will give out that such a deep melancholly have seized on her, since her Fathers death, as she hath made a vow not to see any creature besides your self for two years; As for me, that I have lived so solitary a life with my solitary Master, this Ladies Father, that I have few or no acquaintance; besides, I will pretend some business into some other parts of the Kingdom, and I having but a little Estate, few will inquire after me.

Nurse Fondly. So in the mean time I must live solitary, all alone, without, my Husband, or Nurse-childe, which Childe, Heaven knows, I love better, than if I had one living of my own.

Foster Trusty. I am as fond of her, as you are, and Heaven knows, would most willingly sacrifice my old life, could it do her any service.

Nurse Fondly. But we indanger her life, by the consenting to this journey, for she that hath been bred with tenderness and delicateness, can never indure the coldes and heats, the dirt and dust that Travellers are subject to; Besides, to be disturbed and broaken of her sleep, and to have ill Lodging, or perhaps none at all, and then to travel a foot like a Pilgrim: Her tender feet will never indure the hard ground, nor her young legs never able to bear her body so long a journey.

Foster Trusty. Tis true, this journey may very much incommode her, yet if she doth not go to satisfie her mind, I cannot perceive any hopes of life, but do foresee her certain death; for her mind is so restless, and her thoughts works so much upon her body, as it begins to waste, for she is become lean and pale.

Nurse Fondly. Well! Heaven bless you both, and prosper your journey, but pray let me hear often from you, for I shall be in great frights and fears.

Foster Trusty. If we should write, it may chance to discover us, if our Letters should be opened, wherefore you must have patience.

Ex.

######Scene 10.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Reformer her Woman.

Lady Bashfull. Reformer, I am little beholding to you.

Reformer. Why Madam.

Lady Bashfull. Why, you might have told a lye for me once in your life, for if you had not spoke the truth by saying I was the Lady, they came to see; they would never have guest I had been she, for they expected me to have been a free bold Entertainer, as they were Visitors, which is, as I do perceive, to be rudely familiar at first sight.

Reformer. But to have told a lye, had been to commit a sin.

Lady, Bashfull. In my conscience tto please the effeminate Sex, is to praise their beauty, wit, vertue and goa most pious and charitable act in helping the distressed; Besides, you had not only helped a present distress, but released a whole life out of misery; for as long as I live my thoughts will torment me: O! They wound my very soul already, they will hinder my pious devotions; For when I pray, I shall think more of my bashfull behaviour, and the disgrace I have received thereby, than of Heaven; Besides, they will starve me, not suffering the meat to go down my throat, or else to choke me, causing it to go awry, or else they will cause a Feaver; for in my conscience I shall blush even in my sleep, if I can sleep; For certainly I shall dream of my disgrace, which will be as bad as a waking memory: O! that I had Opium, I would take it, that I might forget all things; For as long as I have memory, I shall remember my simple behaviour, and as for my Page, he shall go, I am resolved to turn him away.

Reformer. Why madam?

Lady Bashfull. Because he let them come in.

Reformer. He could not help it, for they followed him at the heels, they they never stayed for an answer from you, or to know whether you were within or no, and there were a great many of them.

Lady Bashfull. I think there was a Legion of them.

Reformer. You speak as if they were a Legion of Angels.

Lady Bashfull. Nay, they proved a Legion of Divels to me.

Reformer. There was one that seemed to be a fine Gentleman, but he spake not a word.

Lady Bashfull. They may be all what you will make them, or describe them, for I could make no distinction whether they were men or women, or beasts nor heard no articulated sound, only a humming noise.

Reformer. They spake loud enough to have pierced your ears, if strength of noise could have done it, but the Gentleman that did not speak, looked so earnestly at you, as if he would have looked you thorough.

Lady Bashfull, O that his eyes had that piercing faculty, for then perchance he might have seen; I am not so simple as my behaviour made me appear.

Ex.

Scene 11.

Enter Sir Peaceable Studious, and the Lady Ignorance his Wife.

Sir Peaceable Studious. I have lost 500. pounds since you went in with the Ladies.

Lady Ignorance.

Pounds in so short a time.

Sir P. Studious. ‘Tis well I lost no more: But yet, that 500. pounds would have bought you a new Coach, or Bed, or Silver Plate, or Cabinets, or Gowns, or fine Flanders-laces, and now its gone, and we have no pleasure nor credit for it, but it is no matter, I have health for it, therefore I will call to my Stewards to bring me some more.

Lady Ignorance. No, do not so, for after the rate you have lost, you will lose all your Estate in short time.

Sir P. Studious. Faith let it go, ‘tis but begging or starving after it is gone, for I have no trade to live by, unless you have a way to get a living, have you any.

Lady Ignorance. No truly Husband, I am a shiftless creature.

Sir. P. Studious. Yes, but you may play the Whore, and I the Shark, so live by couzening and cheating.

Lady Ignorance. Heaven defend Husband.

Sir P. Studious. Or perchance some will be so charitable to give us suck’d bones from stinking breaths, and rotten teeth, or greasie scraps from fowl hands; But go wife, prithy bid my Steward send me 500. pounds more, or let it alone, I will run on the score, and pay my losings at a lump.

Lady Ignorance. No dear Husband, play no more.

Sir P. Studious. How! not play any more say you, shall I break good Company with sitting out; Besides, it is a question whether I have power to leave off, now I have once begun; for Play is Witch-craft, it inchants temperance, prudence, patience, reason and judgment, and it kicks away time, and bids him go as an old bald-pated fellow as he is, also it chains the life with fears, cares and griefs of losing to a pair of Cards and set of Dice.

Lady Ignorance. For Heaven sake pitty me! If you consider not your self.

Sir P. Studious: Can you think a Husband considers his wife, when he forgets, or regards not himself, when all love is self-love, for a man would have his Wife to be loving and chaste for his honours sake, to be thrifty for his profit sake, to be patient for quiet sake, to be cleanly, witty and beautifull for his pleasure sake, and being thus, he loves her; For if she be false, unkind, prodigal, froward sluttish, foolish, and ill-favoured, he hates her.

Lady Ignorant. But if a Husband loves his wife, he will be carefull to please her, prudent for her, subsistence, industrious for her convenience, valiant to protect her, and conversable to entertain her, and wise to direct and guide her.

Sir P. Studious. To rule and govern her, you mean wife.

Lady Ignorance. Yes, but a Husbands follies will be but corrupt Tutors, and ill Examples for a wife to follow; wherefore dear Husband, play no more, but come amongst the effeminate Societie, you will finde more pleasure at less charges.

Sir P. Studious. Well wife, You shall perswade me for this time.

Lady Ignorance. I thank you Husband.

Ex.

Scene 12.

Enter the Lady Orphant, and Foster Trusty, as two Pilgrims.

Foster Trusty. My childe, you were best sit and rest your self, you cannot chose but be very weary, for we have travelled a great journey to day.

Lady Orphant. Truly I am as fresh, and my spirits are as lively, as if I had not trod a step to day.

Foster Trusty. I perceive love can work miracles.

Lady Orphant. Are not you Father a weary?

Foster Trusty. It were a shame for me to be weary, when you are not; But my childe, we must change these Pilgrims weeds, when we are out of our own Countrey; as when we are in Italy, otherwise we cannot pretend to stay in the Venetian Armie, but must travel as Pilgrims do to Ierusalem: But it were best we put our selves into Beggers garments until we come into the Armie, for fear we should be strip’d by Thieves; for I have heard, Thieves will strip Travellers, if their cloths be not all ragges.

Lady Orphant. ‘Tis true, and Thieves as I have heard, will rob Pilgrims soonest, finding many good Pilladge, wherefore we will accoutre our selves like to ragged Beggers.

Ex.

ACT III.

Scene 13.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, as in a melancholly humour, and Reformer her Woman.

Reformer. Lord Madam! I hope you are not seriously troubled for being out of Countenance.

Lady Bashfull. Yes truely.

Reformer. What? as to make you melancholly!

Lady Bashfull. Yes, very melancholly, when I think I have made my self a scorn, and hath indangered my reputation.

Reformer. Your reputation! Heaven bless you, but your life is so innocent, harmless, chaste, pure and sweet, and your actions so just and honest, as all the Divels in Hell cannot indanger your reputation.

Lady Bashfull. But spitefull tongues, which are worse than Divels, may hurt my reputation.

Reformer. But spite cannot have any thing to say.

Lady Bashfull. Spite will lye, rather than not speak, for envie is the mother to spite, and slander is the Mid-wife.

Reformer. Why, what can they say?

Lady Bashfull. They will say I am guilty of some immodest act, or at least thoughts, or else of some heynous and horrid crime, otherwise I could not be ashamed, or out of countenance, if I were innocent.

Reformer. They cannot say ill, or think ill, but if they could, and did, what are you the worse, as long as you are innocent.

Lady Bashfull. Yes truely, for I desire to live in a pure esteem, and an honourable respect in every breast, and to have a good report spoke on me, since I deserve no other.

Reformer. There is an old saying, that opinion travels without a Passe-port, and they that would have every ones good opinion, must live in every mans age: But I am very confident, there is none lives or dyes without censures, or detraction; even the Gods themselves, that made man, hath given man power and free will to speak, at least to think what they will; That makes so many Athiests in thought, and so many several factions by disputation, and since the Gods cannot, or will not be free from censures, why should you trouble your self with what others say, wherefore pray put off this indiscreet and troublesome humour, for if you would not regard censure, you would be more confident.

Lady Bashfull. I will do what I can to mend.

Scene 14.

Enter the Lady Orphant, and Foster Trusty, like two poor Beggers.

Foster. Childe, you must beg of every one that comes by, otherwise we shall not seem right Beggers.

Lady Orphant. If our necessities were according to our outward appearance, we were but in a sad condition; for I shall never get any thing by begging, for I have neither learn’d the tone, nor the Beggers phrase to more pity or charity.

Foster Trusty. Few Beggers move pity, they get more by importunity, than by their oratorie, or the givers charity.

Enter 2. Gentlemen. She goeth to them and beggs.

Lady Orphant. Noble Gentlemen, pity the shiftless youth, and infirm old age that hath no means to live, but what compassionate charity will bestow.

1. Gentleman. You are a young boy, and may get your living by learning to work.

Lady Orphant. But my Father being very old, is past working, and I am so young, as I have not arrived to a learning degree of age, and by that time I have learn’d to get my living, my Father may be starved for want of food.

2. Gent. Why, your Father may beg for himself whilst you learn to work.

Lady Orphant. My Father’s feeble legs can never run after the flying speed of pityless hearts, nor can he stand so long to wait for conscience aimes, nor knock so hard to make devotion hear.

1. Gent. I perceive you have learn’d to beg well, though not to work, and because you shall know my devotion is not deaf, there is something for your Father and you.

2. Gent. Nay, faith boy, thou shalt have some of the scraps of my charity to, there is for thee.

Lady Orphant. Heaven bless you; and grant to you, all your good desires.

Gentlemen Ex.Enter a Lady and Servants.

Lady Orphant. Honourable Lady, let the mouth of necessity suck the breast of your charity to feed the hungry Beggers.

Lady. Away you rogue, a young boy and beg! You should be strip’d, whip’d, and set to work.

Lady Orphant. Alas Madam, naked poverty is alwaies under the lash of miserie, which forceth us to work in the quarries of stony hearts, but we finde the mineral so hard, as we cannot get out enough to build up a livelyhood.

Lady. Imploy your selves upon some other work then.

Lady Ex.Enter a mean _Trades-man._

Lady Orphant. Good Sir relieve a poor begger.

Trades-man. Faith boy, I am so poor, as I want relief my self; yet of what I have, thou shalt share with me; there is a peny of my two pence, which is all I have, and Heaven do thee good with it.

Trades-man Exit.

Lady Orphant. I perceive poverty pities poverty, as feeling the like miserie, where riches is cruel, and hard-hearted, not knowing what want is.

Foster Trusty. I perceive wit can work upon every thing, and can form it self into what shape it please, and thy wit playes the Begger so well, as we needed not to have stored our selves from our own Stocks, but have lived upon the Stocks of others.

Lady Orphant. But if all Stocks were as insipid as the Ladies, we should have starved, if we had not brought sap from our own home; But Father, I am weighed down with the peny the poor Trades-man gave me.

Foster Trusty. Why, it is not so heavy.

Lady Orphant. It is so heavy, as it burthens my conscience, and I shall never be at ease, not be able to travel any farther, until I have restored the peny to the giver again.

Foster Nurse. How should we do that, for it is as hard and difficult to find out that man, as to finde out the first cause of effects.

Lady Orph. Well, I will play the Philosopher, and search for him.

Foster Nurse. But if you should meet him, perchance you will not know he was he.

Lady Orph. O yes, for his extraordinary charity made me take particular notice of him. Enter the Trades-man as returning back.

Lady Orph. Most charitable and —

Trades-man. What boy, wouldst thou have the other peny,

Lady Orph. Most Noble Sir, I have received from a bountifull hand, a summe of money, and since you were so charitable to divide the half of your store to me, so I desire I may do the like to you.

Trades-man. No boy, keep it for thy self, and thy old Father; I have a Trade, and shall get more.

Lady Orph. Pray take it for luck-sake, otherwise I shall never thrive.

Trades-man. Faith I finde boy, thou art not as most of the World are; the more riches they get, the more covetous they grow.

Lady Orph. Sir, pray take this.

Trades-man. What do you give me here, a piece of Gold?

Lady Orph. Yes Sir.

Trades-man. That were extortion, to take a pound for a peny.

Lady Orph. No, it is not extortion, since I can better space this pound now, than you could your peny, when you gave it me; wherefore it is but justice,

Trades-man. Well, I will keep it for thee, and when you want it, come to me again, and you shall have it: I live in the next street, at the signe of the Holy-lamb.

Lady Orphant. Pray make use of it, for I may chance never to see you more.

Exeunt.

Scene 15.

Enter Sir Studious and the Lady Ignorance his Wife.

Sir P. Studious. Faith Wife, with sipping of your Gossiping-cups, I am half drunk.

Lady Ignorance. Lord Husband! There were some of the Ladies that drank twice as much as you did, and were not drunk, and to prove they were not drunk, was that they talked as much before they drunk, as after; For there was such a confusion of words, as they could not understand each other, and they did no more, when they had drunk a great quantity of Wine.

Sir P. Studious. That was a signe they were drunk, that they talked less, but how chance that you drank so little.

Lady Ignorance. Truly, Wine is so nauseous to my taste, and so hatefull to my nostrils, as I was sick when the cup was brought to me.

Sir P. Studious. I know not what it was to you, but to me it was pleasant, for your Ladies were so gamesome, merry and kind, as they have fired me with amorous love ever since.

Enter the Lady Ignoranc’s Maid.

Maid. Madam, the Lady Wagtail, and other Ladies, have sent to know if your Ladyship were within, that they might come and wait upon you.

Sir Peaceable Studious chiks the maid under the Chin, and kisses her.

Sir P. Studious. Faith Nan, thou art a pretty wench.

Lady Ignorance. What Husband? Do you kiss my maid before my face.

Sir P. Studious. Why not Wife, as well as one of your sociable Ladies in a frollick, as you kiss me, I kiss Nan.

Lady Ignorance. So, and when Nan kisses your Barber, he must kiss me.

Sir P. Studious. Right, this is the kissing frollick, and then comes the stricking frollick, for you strike Nan, Nan gently strikes me, and I justly beat you, and end the frollicks with a —

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and other Ladies of the Societie, with the Lady Amorous.

Lady Wagtail. What? a man and his Wife dully alone together! Fie for shame.

Lady Amorous. Lawfull love is the dullest and drouziest companion that is, for Wives are never thought fair, nor Husbands witty.

Sir P. Studious. Your Ladyship is learned in loves Societies.

Lady Amorous. Yes that I am, for I have observed, that if there be a match’d company, every man having a woman, their conversation is dull, every mans tongue whispering in his Mistriss eare, whilst the women are mute, listening to that which is whispered unto them; but let there be but one man amongst a company of women, and then their tongues runs races, striving with each other, which shall catch that one man, as the only prize, when the weaker wits runs themselves straite out of breath.

Sir P. Studious. And must not one man run against them all.

Lady Amorous. O yes? and many times his wit beats them all.

Sir P. Studious. Faith Lady? They must not be such strong winded wits as yours is, which is able to beat a dozen Masculine wits out of the field.

Lady Amorous. You are pleased to give me a complement.

The Lady Ignorance seems melancholly.

Lady Wagtaile. The merry God have mercy on you? What makes you so melancholly.

Lady Ignorance. I am not well to day.

Lady Wagtail. If you are troubled with melancholly vapours, arising from crude humours, you must take as soon as you wake after your first sleep, a draught of Wormwood-wine, then lye to sleep again, and then half an hour before you rise, drink a draught of Jelly-broth, and after you have been up an hour and half, eate a White-wine-caudle, then a little before a dinner, take a Toste and Sack, and at your meals, two or three good glasses of Clarret-wine; as for your Meats, you must eate those of light digestion, as Pheasant, Partridges, Cocks, Snipes, Chickens, young Turkies, Pea-chickens and the like; And in the After-noon, about four or five a clock, you must take Naples-bisket dip’d in Ippocrass, which helps digestion much, and revives the spirits, and makes one full of discourse, and not only to discourse, but to discourse wittily, and makes one such good company, as invites acquaintance, and ties friendship.

The whilst the Lady Wagtail talks to the Lady Ignorance, the eyes her Husband, who seems to court the Lady Amorous.

Lady Amorous. Faith I will tell your Wife what you say.

Lady Wagtail. That is fowl play, and not done like one of the Society, especially when my Lady is not well.

Lady Amorous. What? Is she sick! I lay my life she hath eate too much Branne Sturgeon, or Sammon without muskadine or Sack, or N•ats-tongues, Bakon and Anchoves, Caveare, or Lobsters, without Rhenish-wines, or Oysters, or Sausages without Clarret-wine, or hath she eaten Potatoe-pies without dates, Ringo-roots, Marrow and Chestnuts, have you not? i saith confess.

Lady Ignorance. No indeed.

Lady Amorous. Why? I hope you have not taken a surfeit of White-meats, those childish meats, or with Water-grewel, Ponado, Barley-greWel, those Hodge-podgely meats.

Lady Ignorance. Neither.

Lady Amorous. Why, then you have over-heated your self with dancing or fretting and vexing your self at your ill fortune at Cards; or your Tayler hath spoiled some Gown, or your Coach-man was out of the way when you would go abroad; is it not so.

Lady Ignorance.

No. Lady Amorous. Why? Then your Husband hath crost some design, or hath angered you some other way.

The Lady Ignorance blushes. They all laugh, and speak at one time; She blushes, She blushes.

Lady Wagtail. Faith Amorous, thou hast found it out! Sir Peaceable Studious you are to be chidden to anger your Wife; wherefore tell us how you did anger her, when you did anger her, and for what you did anger her.

Sir. P. Studious. Dear, sweet, sine, fair Ladies! be not so cruel to me, as to lay my Wives indisposition to my charge.

Lady Wagtaile. But we will, and we will draw up an Accusation against you, unless you confess, and ask pardon.

Sir P. Studious. Will you accuse me without a Witness?

Lady Wagtail. Yes, and condemne you too.

Sir P. Studious. That were unjust! if Ladies could be unjust.

Lady Amorous. O Madam! we have a witness? her blushing is a sufficient witness to accuse him; Besides, her melancholly silence will help to condemn him.

Lady Ignorance. Pardon me Ladies, for when any of our Sex are offended, or angered, whether they have cause or not, they will rail louder than Ioves thunder.

Lady Amorous. So will you in time.

Lady Wagtail. Let us jumble her abroad; Come Madam! we will put you out of your dull humour.

Lady Ignorance. No Madam? Pray excuse me to day; in truth I am not well.

Lady Amorous. No, let us let my Lady alone, but let us take her Husband, and tutour him

Sir. P. Studious. Ladies, give me leave to praise my self, and let my self, and let me tell you? I am as apt a Scholar, as ever you met with, and as willing to learn.

Lady Amorous. Farewell Madam, we will order Sir P. Studious, and try what disposition he is of, and how apt to be instructed.

Lady Ignorance. Pray do Madam, he promiseth well.

Ex.

Scene 16:

Enter Foster Trusty, and the Lady Orphant.

Lady Orphant. Now we are come into the Armie, how shall we demean our selves like poor Beggers.

Foster Trusty. By no means, for though you beg well, yet you will never get what you come for with begging, for there is an old saying, that although all charity is love, yet all love is not charity.

Lady Orphant. It were the greatest charity in the World, for him to love me; for without his love, I shall be more miserable than poverty can make me.

Foster Trusty. But poverty is so scorned and hated, that no person is accepted which she presents; Nay, poverty is shunn’d more than the Plague.

Lady Orphant. Why? it is not infectious.

Foster Trusty. Yes faith, for the relieving of necessity, is the way to be impoverished.

Lady Orph. But their rewards are the greater in Heaven.

Foster Trusty. ‘Tis true, but their Estates are less on earth.

Lady Orphant. But blessings are more to be desired than wealth.

Foster Trusty. Well? Heaven bless us, and send us such fortune, that our long journey may prove successfull, and not profitless, and because Heaven never gives blessings, unless we use a prudent industry; you shall put your self into good clothes, and I will mix my self with his followers and servants, and tell them, as I may truely, that you are my Son, for no mans Son but mine you are, was so importunate, as you would never let me rest, until I brought you to see the Lord Singularity, and they will tell him, to let him know his fame is such, as even young children adore him, taking a Pilgrimage to see him, and he out of a vain-glory will desire to see you.

Lady Orphant. But what advantage shall I get by that.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and many Commanders attending him.

Foster Trusty. Peace! here is the General.

Commander. The enemie is so beaten, as now they will give us some time to breath our selves.

General. They are more out of breath than we are, but the States are generous enemies, if they give them leave to fetch their wind, and gather strength again.

Lady Orphant. Father, stand you by, and let me speak. She goeth to the General, and speaks to him.Heaven bless your Excellencie.

Lord General. From whence comest thou boy?

Lady Orph. From your native Countrey.

General. Cam’st thou lately?

Lady Orph. I am newly arrived.

General. Pray how is my Countrey, and Countrey-men, live they still in happy peace, and flourishing with plenty.

Lady Orph. There is no noise of war, or fear of famine.

General. Pray Iove continue it.

Lady Orphant. It is likely so to continue, unless their pride and luxurie be gets a factious childe, that is born with war, and fed with ruine.

General. Do you know what faction is?

Lady Orph. There is no man that lives, and feels it not, the very thoughts are factious in the mind, and in Rebellious passions arises warring against the soul.

General. Thou canst not speak thus by experience boy, thou art too young, not yet a mans Estate.

Lady Orphant. But children have thoughts, and said to have a rational soul, as much as those that are grown up to men; but if souls grow as bodies doth, and thoughts increases with their years, then may the wars within the mind be like to School-boys quarrels, that falls out for a toy, and for a roy are friends.

General. Thou speakest like a Tutour, what boyish thoughts so ever thou hast; but tell me boy? what mad’st thee travel so great a journey.

Lady Orph. For to see you.

General. To see me boy!

Lady Orph. Yes, to see you Sir; for the Trumpet of your praise did sound so loud, it struck my ears, broke open my heart, and let desire forth, which restless grew until I travelled hither.

General. I wish I had merits to equal thy weary steps, or means for to reward them.

Lady Orph. Your presence hath sufficiently rewarded me.

General. Could I do thee my service boy?

Lady Orph. A bounteous favour you might do me Sir?

General. What is that boy?

Lady Orph. To let me serve you, Sir.

General. I should be ingratefull to refuse thee, chose thy place.

Lady Orph. Your Page, Sir, if you please.

General. I accept of thee most willingly.

Captain. But Sir? may not this boy be a lying, couzening, flattering dissembling, treacherous boy.

General. Why Captain, there is no man that keeps many servants, but some are lyers, and some treacherous, and all flatterers; and a Master receives as much injurie from each particular, as if they were joyned in one.

Lady Orph. I can bring none that will witness for my truth, or be bound for my honesty, but my own words.

General. I desire none, boy, for thy tongue sounds so sweetly, and thy face looks so honestly, as I cannot but take, and trust thee.

Lady Orph. Heaven bless your Excellence, and fortune prosper you, for your bounty hath been above my hopes, and equal to my wishes.

General. What is thy name?

Lady Orph. Affectionata my Noble Lord.

General. Then follow me Affectionata.

Ex.

ACT IV.

Scene 17.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Reformer her woman. Enter _Page.

Page._ Madam, there was a Gentleman gave me this Letter, to deliver to your Ladyships hands.

Lady Bashfull. A Letter I pray Reformer open it, and read it, for I will not receive Letters privately.

Page Exit.

Reformer. The superscription is for the Right Honourable, the Lady Bashfull; these present.

The Letter.

MADAM,

Since I have had the honour to see you, I have had the unhappiness to think my self miserable, by reason I am deprived of speech, that should plead my suit, but if an affectionate soul, chasle thoughts, lawfull desires, and a fervent heart can plead without speech, let me beg your favour to accept of me for your servant; and what I want in Language, my industrious observance, and diligent service shall supply; I am a Gentleman, my breeding hath been according to my birth, and my Estate is sufficient to maintain me according to both; As for your Estate, I consider it not, for were you so poor of fortunes goods, as you had nothing to maintain you, but what your merit might challenge out of every purse; yet if you were mine, I should esteem you richer than the whole World, and I should love you, as Saints love Heaven, and adore you equal to a Dietie; for I saw so much sweetness of nature, nobleness of soul, purity of thoughts, and innocency of life, thorough your Bashfull countenance, as my soul is wedded thereunto, and my mind so restless; therefore, that unless I may have hopes to injoy you for my Wife; I shall dye, Your distracted Servant,
SERIOUS DUMB.

Lady Bashfull. Now Reformer, what say you to this Letter?

Reformer. I say it is a good honest, hearty affectionate Letter, and upon my life, it is the Gentleman I commended so; he that looked so seriously on you; and your Ladyship may remember, I said he viewed you, as if he would have looked you thorough, and you made answer, that you wished he could, that he might see you were not so simple, as your behaviour made you appear, and now your wish is absolved.

Lady Bashfull. What counsel will you give me in this cause?

Reformer. Why? write him a civil answer.

Lady Bashfull. Why should I hold corespondence with any man, either by Letter, or any other way, since I do not intend to marry.

Reformer. Not marry?

Lady Bashfull. No, not marry.

Reformer. Why so?

Lady Bashfull. Because I am now Mistriss of my self, and fortunes, and have a free liberty; and who that is free, if they be wise, will make themselves slaves, subjecting themselves to anothers humour, unless they were fools, or mad, and knew not how to chose the best and happiest life.

Reformer. You will change this opinion, and marry, I dare swear.

Lady Bashfull. Indeed I will not swear, but I think I shall not, for I love an easie, peaceable and solitary life, which none injoys but single persons; for in marriage, the life is disturbed with noise and company, troublesome imployments, vex’d with crosses, and restless with cares; Besides, I could not indure to have Parteners to share of him, whom my affections had set a price upon, or my merit, or beauty, or wealth, or vertue had bought.

Reformer. So, I perceive you would be jealouse, if you were married.

Lady Bashfull. Perchance I might have reason, but to prevent all inconveniences, and discontents, I will live a single life.

Reformer. Do what likes you best, for I dare not perswade you any way, for fear my advice should not prove to the best.

Exeunt.

Scene 18.

Enter Affectionata, and Foster Trusty.

Foster Trusty. Now you are placed according to your desire, what wil you command me to do?

Affectionata. Dear Foster Father, although I am loth to part from you, yet by reason I shall suffer in my estate, I must intreat you to return home, for my Nurse your wife, hath not skill to manage that fortune my Father left me; for she knows not how to let Leases, to set Lands, to receive Rents, to repair Ruines, to disburst Charges, and to order those affairs as they should be ordered, which your knowledge, industry and wisdom will dispose and order for my advantage.

Foster Trusty. But how if you be discovered.

Affectionata. Why, if I should, as I hope I shall not, yet the Lord Singularity is so noble a person, as he will neither use me uncivily, not cruelly.

Foster Trusty. All that I fear is, if you should be discovered, he should use you too civilly.

Affectionata. That were to use me rudely, which I am confident he will not do, and I am confident that you do believe I will receive no more civillity (if you call it so) than what honour will allow and approve of.

Foster Trusty. But jealousie will creep into the most confident breasts sometimes, yet I dare trust you, though I fear him.

Affectionata. I hope there is no cause to fear him, or doubt me, wherefore dear Father, let us go and settle our affairs here, that you may return home to order those there.

Scene 19.

Enter Sir Peaceable Studious, and the Lady Ignorance his Wife, She being undrest, her mantle about her, as being not well.

Sir P. Studious. In truth wife, it is a great misfortune you should be sick this Term-time, when the Society is so much increast, as it is become a little Common-wealth.

Lady Ignorance. If there be so many, they may the better spare me.

Sir P. Studious. ‘Tis true, they can spare your company, but how can you want their companies.

Lady Ignorance. You shall be my Intelligencer of their pastimes.

Sir P. Studious. That I will wife, but it will be but a dull recreation, only to hear a bare relation.

Lady Ignorance. As long as you partake of their present pleasures, and pleasant actions, what need you take care for me.

Sir P. Studious. Yes, but I must in Justice, for since you have cured me of a studious Lethargie, I ought to do my indeavour to divert your melancholly; and there is no such remedy as the Society; wherefore dear wife, fling off this melancholly sickness, or sick melancholly, and go amongst them; for surely your sickness is in your mind, not in your body.

She cries.

Sir P. Studious. What, do you cry Wife, who hath angered you?

Lady Ignorance. Why you.

Sir P. Studious. Who, I anger’d you I why I would not anger a woman, no, not my Wife for the whole World, If I could possible avoid it, which I fear cannot be avoided, for if I should please out of your Sex, I should be sure to displease another: — But that is my comfort, it is not my fault; but dear Wife, how have I offended you.

Lady Ignorance. Why did you kiss my maid before my face.

Sir P. Studious. Why did you perswade me.

Lady Ignorance. Did I perswade you to kiss my Maid.

Sir P. Studious. No, but you did perswade me to be one of the Society and there is kissing, and I thought it was as well to kiss your maid before your face, as a sociable Lady before your face.

Lady Ignorance. And why do you make love to the Ladies, since I suffer none to make love to me.

Sir P. Studious. No, for if you did, I would fling you to death, to be imbraced in his cold arms; Besides, those actions that are allowable and seemly, as manly in men, are condemned in women, as immodest, and unbecoming, and dishonourable; but talking to you, I shall miss of the pleasant sports, and therefore, if you will go, come, the Coach is ready.

Lady Ignorance. No, I will not go with you.

Sir P. Studious. Then I will go without you.

Lady Ignorance. No, pray Husband go no more thither.

Sir P. Studious. How! not to go? nor to go no more, would you desire me from that which you perswaded me to; Nay, so much as I could never be quiet, disturbing my harmless studies, and happy mind, crossing my pleasing thoughts with complaining words, but I perceive you grow jealouse, and now you are acquainted, you have no more use of me, but would be glad to quit my company, that you may be more free abroad.

Lady Ignorance. No Husband, truely I will never go abroad, but will inancor my self in my own house, so you will stay at home, and be as you were before, for I see my own follies, and am ashamed of my self, that you should prove me such a fool.

Sir P. Studious. Do you think me so wise and temperate a man, as I can on a sudden quit vain pleasures, and lawfull follies.

Lady Ignorance. Yes, or else you have studied to little purpose.

Sir P. Studious. Well, for this day I will stay at home, and for the futuretime I will consider.

Exeunt.

Scene 20.

Enter two Servants of the Generals.

I. Servant. This boy that came but the other day, hath got more of my Lords affection, than we that have served him this many years.

2. Servant. New-comers are alwaies more favoured than old waiters; for Masters regards old Servants no more, than the Imagerie in an old suit of Hanging, which are grown threed-bare with time, and out of fashion with change; Besides, new Servants are more industrious and diligent than old; but when he hath been here a little while, he will be as lazie as the rest, and then he will be as we are.

I. Servant. I perceive my Lord delights to hear him talk, for he will listen very a tentively to him, but when we offer to speak, he bids us to be silent.

2. Servant. I wonder he should, for when we speak, it is with gravity, and our discourse is sententious, but his is meer squibs.

Enter Affectionata.

Affectionata. Gentlemen, my Lord would have one of you to come to him.

I. Servant. Why, I thought you could supply all our places, for when you are with him, he seems to have no use of us.

Affectionata. It shall not be for want of will, but ability, if I do not serve him in every honest office.

I. Servant. So you will make some of us knaves.

Affectionata. I cannot make you knaves, unless you be willing to be knaves your selves.

2. Servant. What, do you call me knave?

Affectionata. I do not call you so.

Ex.

2. Servant. Well, I will be revenged, if I live.

Ex.

Scene 21.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Reformer her woman.

Reformer. Madam, I have inquired what this Sir Serious Dumb is, and ‘tis said he is one of the finest Gentlemen in this Kingdom, and that his valour hath been proved in the wars, and that he is one that is very active and dexterous in all manly exercises, as riding, fencing, vaulting, swimming, and the like, Also that he is full of inventions, and a rare Poet, and that he hath a great Estate, only that he is dumb, and hath been so this twelve years and upwards.

Lady Bashfull. Reformer What makes you so industrious to inquire after him, surely thou art in love within.

Reformer. In my conscience I liked him very well, when he was to see you.

Lady Bashfull. The truth is, he cannot weary you with words, nor anger you in his discourse, but pray do not inquire after him, nor speak of him; for people will think I have some designe of marriage.

Reformer. I shall obey you, Madam.

Exeunt.

Scene. 22.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata. He strokes Affectionata’s head.

**_Lord Singularity._** Affectionata, Thou art one of the diligent’st boys that had.

Affectionata. How can I be otherwise, Sir, since you are the Governour of my soul, that commands the Fort of my passion, and the Castle of my imaginations, which are the heart, and the head.

Lord Singularity. Do you love me so much?

Affectionata. So well my Lord, as you are the archetectour of my mind, the foundation of my thoughts, and the gates of my memories, for your will is the form, your happiness the level, and your actions the treasurie.

Lord Singularity. Thy wit delights me more, than thy flattery perswades: for I cannot believe a boy can love so much; Besides, you have not served me so long, as to beget love.

Affectionata. I have loved you from my infancy, for as I suck’d life from my Nurses breast, so did I Love from fames, drawing your praises forth, as I did milk, which nourished my affections.

Lord Singularity. I shall strive; boy, to require thy love.

Affectionata. To requite, is to return love for love.

Lord Singul. By Heaven? I love thee, as a Father loves a son.

Affectionata. Then I am blest.

Exeunt.

Scene 23.

Enter two Souldiers.

1. **_Souldier._** What is this boy that our General is so taken with.

2. **_Souldier._** A poor Begger-boy!

1. **_Souldier._** Can a poor Begger-boy merit his affections?

2. **_Souldier._** He is a pretty boy, and waites very diligently.

1. **_Souldier._** So doth other boys, as well as he, but I believe he is a young Pimp, and carries, and conveys Love-letters.

2. **_Souldier._** Like enough to, for boys are strangely crafty in those imployments, and so industrious, as they will let no times nor opportunities slip them, but they will find waies to deliver their Letters and messages.

Exeunt.

Scene 24.

Enter the Lady Bashfulls Page, and Sir Serious Dumb, who gives a Note to the Page to read.

Page. Sir, I dare not direct you to my Lady, as you desire me in this Note, and if I should tell her, here is a Gentleman that desired to visit her, she would refuse your visit.

Dumb gives the young Page four or five pieces of Gold.

Page. I will direct you to the room wherein my Lady is, but I must not be seen, nor confess I shewed you the way.

Page, and Sir Serious Dumb Exeunt

Scene 25.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. Come Affectionata, sit down and entertain me with thy sweet discourse, which makes all other company troublesome, and tedious to me, thine only doth delight me.

Affectionata. My Noble Lord? I wish the plat-form of my brain were a Garden of wit, and then perchance my tongue might present your Excellencies with a Posie of flowery Rhethorick, but my poor brain is barren, wanting

Lord Singularity. Thou hast an eloquent tongue, (and a gentle soul.)

Affectionata. My Noble Lord, I have hardly learn’d my native words, much less the eloquence of Language, and as for the souls of all mankind, they are like Common-wealths, where the several vertues, and good graces are the Citizens therein, and the natural subjects thereof; but vices and follies, as the thievish Borderers, and Neighbour-enemies, which makes inrodes, factions, mutinies, intrudes and usurps Authority, and if the follies be more than the good graces, and the vices too strong for the vertues, the Monarchy of a good life falls to ruine, also it is indangered by Civil-wars amongst the passions.

Lord Singularity. What passions indangers it most?

Affectionata. Anger, malice, and despair.

Lord Singularity. Were you never angry?

Affectionata. I am of too melancholly a nature, to be very angry.

Lord Singularity. Why? are melancholly persons never angry?

Affectionata. Very seldom, my Lord, for those that are naturally melancholly, doth rather grieve, than fret, they sooner wast into sighes, than fly about with fury; more tears flows thorough their eyes, than words pass thorough their lips.

Lord Singularity. Why should you be melancholly?

Affectionata. Alas, nature hath made me so; Besides, I find there is not much reason to joy, for what we love, perchance it loves not us, and if it doth, we cannot keep it long, for pleasures passeth like a dream; when pains doth stay, as if eternal were.

Lord Singularity. Thou art composed with such harmonie, as thy discourse is as delightfull musick, wherein the soul takes pleasure.

Exeunt.

Scene 26.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, Sir Serious Dumb following her, where Reformer her Woman meets them.

Reformer. Madam, now the Gentleman is here, you must use him civilly, and not strive to run away from him, wherefore pray turn, and entertain him.

The Lady Bashfull turns to him, but is so out of countenance, and trembles so much, as she cannot speak, but stands still and mute; All the while he fixes his eyes upon her.

Reformer. Pray speak to him, Madam, and not stand trembling, as if you were like to fall.

Lady Bashfull. My spirits is seized on by my bashfull and innocent fears, insomuch, as they have not strength to support my body without trembling.

Reformer. Sweet Madam, try not speak to him?

Lady Bashfull. Honourable Sir? give me leave to tell you, that my bashfullness doth smother the senses and reason in my brain, and chokes the words in my throat I should utter, but pray do not think it proceeds from crimes, but an imperfection of nature, which I have strove against, but cannot as yet rectifie

Sir Serious Dumb Civily bows to her, and then gives Reformer his Table-book to read.

She reads.

Madam, He hath writ here, that had his tongue liberty to speak, all that he could say, would be so far below, and inferiour to what might be said in your praise, as he should not adventure to presume to speak.

Lady Bashfull. I will presume to break my brain, but I will invent some ways to be rid of his company.

He follows her, Exeunt.

ACT. V.

Scene 27.

Enter the General, and sits in a melancholly posture. Enters Affectionata, and stands with a sad countenance. The General sees him.

Lord Singularity. What makes thee look so sad, my boy?

Affectionata. To see you sit so melancholly.

Lord Singul. Clear up thy countenance, for its not a deadly melancholly, though it is a troublesome one.

Affectionata. May I be so bold to ask the cause of it.

Lord Singul. The cause is, a cruel Mistriss.

Affectionata. Have you a Mistriss, and can she be cruel?

Lord Singularity. O! Women are Tyrants, they daw us on to love, and then denies our suits.

Affectionata. Will not you think me rude, If I should question you?

Lord Singul. No, for thy questions delights me more, than my Mistriss denials grieves me.

Affectionata. Then give me leave to ask you, whether your suit be just?

Lord Singul. Just, to a Lovers desires.

Affectionata. What is your desire?

Lord Singul. To lye with her.

Affectionata. After you have married her?

Lord Singularity. Marry her saist thou, I had rather be banish’d from that Sex for ever, than marry one, and yet I love them well.

Affectionata. Why have you such an adversion to marriage, being lawfull and honest.

Lord Singul. Because I am affraid to be a Cuckold!

Affectionata. Do you think there is no chaste women?

Lord Singularity. Faith boy, I believe very few, and those that are men, knows not where to find them out, for all that are not married, professes chastity, speaks soberly, and looks modestly, but when they are martyed, they are more wild than Bachalins, far worse than Satyres, making their Husbands horns far greater than a Stags, having more branches sprouts thereon.

Affectionata. And doth he never cast those horns?

Lord Singul. Yes, if he be a Widower, he casts his horns, only the marks remains, otherwise he bears them to his grave.

Affectionata. But put the case you did know a woman that was chaste; would not you marry her?

Lord Singul. That is a question not to be resolved, for no man can be resolved, whether a womam can be chaste or not.

Affectionata fetches a greater sighe.

Lord Singul. Why do you sighe, my boy?

Affectionata. Because all women are false, or thought to be so, that wise men dares not trust them.

Lord Singularity. But they are fools, that will not try, and make use of them, if they can have them; wherefore I will go, and try my Mistriss once again.

Exeunt.

Scene. 28.

Enter the Lady Ignorance, and her Maid. She hears a noise.

Lady Ignorance. What a noise they make below, they will disturb my Husbands study; go and tell those of my Servants, that I will turn them away for their carelesness, as that they cannot place, set, or hold things sure, but let them fall to maké such a noise.

Maid. I shall.

Maid Ex.

Lady Ignorance. It shall be my study how to order my house without noise, wherefore all my Servants shall be dumb, although not deaf, and I will take none, but such as have corns on their feet, that they may tread gently, and all my Houshold-vessel shall be of wood, for wood makes not such a noise when it chance to fall, or is hit against a wall, as metal doth, which rings like bells, when it is but touched, neither will I have Houshold-vessels of Earth, for earthen-pots, pans and the like; when they fall and break, sounds as if a stonewall fell.

Ex.

Scene 29.

Enter the General, and three or four _Commanders._

General. On my soul Gentlemen, the boy is an honest boy, and no wayes guilty of this you tax him for.

Commanders. Pardon us, my Lord, for giving your Excellence notice that the States are jealouse of him for a Spie, but we do not any wayes accuse him.

General. Will the States examine him, say you?

Commanders. So we hear, my Lord.

General. Well Gentlemen, pray leave me for this time, and I will take care the boy shall be forth-coming, whensoever the State shall require him.

Commanders. Your Lordships humble Servants —

Commanders Ex.The General solus.

General. A Spie, it cannot be, for he is neither covetous, nor malicious, revengefull, nor irreligious, but I will try him.

Exit.

Scene 30.

Enter the Lady Bashfulls Chamber-maid, and Mrs. Reformer her Gentlewoman.

Chamber-Maid. Mrs. Reformer, pray tell me who that handsome Gentleman is, which follows my Lady about?

Reformer. He is one that is Noble, and Rich, and is in love with my Lady.

Chamber-Maid. Truly it is the strangest way of wooing, that ever was, for my Lady goeth blushing out of one room into another, and he follows her at the heels: In my conscience my Lady is ashamed to sit down, or to bid him leave her company, and surely they must needs be both very weary of walking, but sure he will leave her, when it is time to go to bed.

Reformer. It is to be hoped he will.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Sir Serious Dumb following her.

Reformer. Madam, you will tire your self and the Gentleman, with walking about your house, wherefore pray sit down.

Lady Bashfull. What! To have him gaze upon my face.

Reformer. Why, your face is a handsome face, and the owner of it is honest, wherefore you need not be ashamed, but pray rest your self.

Lady Bashfull. Pray perswade him to leave me, and then I will.

Reformer. Sir, my Lady intreats you to leave her to her self.

Sir Serious Dumb writes then, and gives Reformer his Table-book to read.

Reformer. He writes he cannot leave you, for if his body should depart, his soul will remain still with you.

Lady Bashfull. That will not put me out of countenance, because I shall not be sensible of its presence, wherefore I am content he should leave his soul, so that he will take his body away.

He writes, and gives Reformer the Book.

Reformer reads. He writes, that if you will give him leave once a day to see you, that he will depart, and that he will not disturb your thoughts, he will only wait upon your person for the time he lives, he cannot keep himself long from you.

Lady Bashfull. But I would be alone.

Reformer. But if he will follow you, you must indure that with patience, you cannot avoid.

Sir Serious Dumb goeth to the Lady Bashfull, and kisseth her hand, and Ex.

Reformer. You see he is so civil, as he is unwilling to displease you.

Lady Bashfull. Rather than I will be troubled thus; I will go to some other parts of the World.

Reformer. In my conscience, Madam, he will follow you, wheresoever you go.

Lady Bashfull. But I will have him shut out of my house.

Reformer. Then he will lye at your gates, and so all the Town will take notice of it.

Lady Bashfull. Why so, they will howsoever, by his often visits.

Reformer. But not so publick.

Exeunt.

Scene 31.

Enter the General, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. Affectionata. Thou must carry a Letter from me, to my Mistriss.

Affectionata. You will not marry her, you say.

Lord Singul. No.

Affectionata. Then pardon me, my Lord, for though I would assist your honest love by any service I can do, yet I shall never be so base an Instrument, as to produce a crime.

Lord Singul. Come, come, thou shalt carry it, and I will give thee 500. pounds for thy service.

Affectionata. Excuse me, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. I will give thee a thousand pounds.

Affectionata. I shall not take it, my Lord.

Lord Singul. I will give thee five thousand, nay ten thousand pounds.

Affectionata. I am not covetous, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. I will make thee Master of my whole Estate, for without the assistance, I cannot injoy my Mistriss, by reason she will trust none with our Loves, but thee.

Affectionata. Could you make me Master of the whole World, it could not tempt me to do an action base, for though I am poor, I am honest, and so honest, as I cannot be corrupted, or bribed there-from.

Lord Singularity. You said you loved me?

Affectionata. Heaven knows I do above my life, and would do you any service that honour did allow of.

Lord Singularity. You are more scrupulous than wise.

Affectionata. There is an old saying, my Lord, that to be wise, is to be honest.

Exeunt.

Scene 32.

Enter Sir Peaceable Studious, and meets his Ladies Maid.

Sir P. Studious. Where is your Lady?

Maid. In her Chamber, Sir.

Sir P. Studious. Pray her to come to me?

Maid. Yes Sir.

Sir P. Studious, Exit.Enter another Maid to the first.

1. Maid. Lord, Lord! What a creature my Master is become; since he fell into his musing again, he looks like a melancholy Ghost, that walks in the shades of Moon-shine, or if there be no Ghost, such as we fancie, just such a one seems her, when a week since, he was as fine a Gentleman as one should see amongst a thousand.

2. Maid. That was because he kiss’d you, Nan.

1. Maid. Faith it was but a dull clownish part, to meet a Maid that is not ill-favoured, and not make much of her, who perchance have watch’d to meet him, for which he might have clap’d her on the cheek, or have chuck’d her under the chin, or have kiss’d her, but to do or say nothing, but bid me call my Lady, was such a churlish part? Besides, it seemed neither manly, gallantly, nor civilly.

2. Maid. But it shewed him temperate and wise, not minding such frivilous and troublesome creatures as women are.

1. Maid. Prithy, it shews him to be a miserable, proud, dull fool.

2. Maid. Peace, some body will hear you, and then you will be turn’d away.

1. Maid. I care not, for it they will not turn me away, I will turn my self away, and seek another service, for I hate to live in the house with a Stoick.

Scene 33.

Enter the General, and Affectionata.

Affectionata. By your face, Sir, there seems a trouble in your mind, and I am restless until I know your griefs.

Lord Singularity. It is a secret I dare not trust the aire with!

Affectionata. I shall be more secret than the aire, for the aire is apt to divulge by retorting Ecohes back, but I shall be as silent as the Grave.

Lord Singul. But you may be tortured to confess the truth.

Affectionata. But I will not confess the truth, if the confession may any wayes hurt, or disadvantage you; for though I will not belye truth by speaking falsely, yet I will conceal a truth, rather than betray a friend. Especially, my Lord and Master: But howsoever, since your trouble is of such concern, I shall not with to know it, for though I dare trust my self, yet perchance you dare not trust me, but if my honest fidelity can serve you any wayes, you may imploy it, and if it be to keep a secret, all the torment that nature hath made, or art invented, shall never draw it from me.

Lord Singul. Then let me tell thee, that to conceal it, would damn thy soul.

Affectionata. Heaven bless me! But sure, my Lord, you cannot be guilty of such sins, that those that doth but barely hear, or know them, shall be damned.

Lord Singul. But to conceal them, is to be an Actor.

Affectionata. For Heaven sake then keep them close from me, if either they be base or wicked, for though love prompt me to inquire, hoping to give you ease in bearing part of the burthen, yet Heaven knows, I thought my love so honourable placed on such a worthy person, and guiltless soul, as I might love and serve without a scandal, or a deadly sin.

Lord Singularity. Come, you shall know it.

Affectionata. I’l rather stop my ears with death.

Lord Singul. Go, thou art a false boy.

Affectionata. How false a boy howsoever you think me, I have an honest soul and heart that is ready to serve you in any honest way, but since I am deceived, and couzened into love by false reports, finding the best of man-kind basely wicked, and all the World so bad, that praise nothing good, and strives to poyson vertue, I will inancor my self, and live on Antidotes of prayers, for fear of the infection.

Lord Singul. And I will not you pray for me?

Affectionata. I cannot chose, my Lord, for gratitude inforces me; First, because I have loved you, next, because I have served you; and give me leave to kiss your hand, and then there drop some tears at my departure.

Weeping kneels down, and kisses her hand.

Lord Singularity. Rise, you must not go away until you have cleared your self from being a spie.

Affectionata. I fear no accusations,

Exeunt.

FINIS.

THE SECOND PART OF LOVES ADVENTURES.

The Lord Singularity.
Sir Serious Dumb.
Sir Timothy Compliment.
Sir Humphry Bold.
Sir Roger Exception.
Sir Peaceable Studious.
Foster Trusty.
Collonels, Captains, Lieutenants and Corporals.
Petitioners.
Officers, Messengers.

Iudges. Iuries.
Servants.
The Lady Orphant.
Lady Bashfull.
Lady Ignorance.
Lady Wagtail.
Lady Amorous.
Nurse Fondly.
Mistriss Reformer. Lady Bashfulls woman.
Chamber-maids.
—

EPILOGUE.

Noble Spectators, you have spent this day;
Not only for to see, but judge our Play:
Our Authoress sayes, she thinks her Play is good,
If that her Play be rightly understood;
If not, ‘tis none of her fault, for she writ
The Acts, the Scenes, the Language and the Wit;
Wherefore she sayes, that she is not your Debtor,
But you are hers, until you write a better;
Of even terms to be she understands
Impossible, except you clap your hands.

THE SECOND PART

ACT I.

Scene 1.

Enter the Lady Bashfulls Chamber-maid, and Mrs. Reformer her woman.

Reformer. This dumb Lower is the most diligent’st servant that ever was, and methinks my Lady is somewhat more confident than she was; for she will sit and read whilst he sits by.

Maid. Doth she read to him?

Reformer. No, she reads to herself.

Maid. There comes abundance of Gallants to visit my Lady every day, and they have all one answer, that is, she is not willing to receive visits, and they all go civilly away, unless Sir Humphry Bold and he rails horribly.

Reformer. I have received from several Gentlemen, above 20. Letters a day, and as fast as they come, she makes me burn them.

Maid. But she reads them first.

Reformer. No, I read them to her.

Maid. And doth she answer all those Letters?

Reformer. She never answered one in her life, and I dare swear, she never will.

The Lady Bashfull calls, as within another Room.

Reformer. Madam!—

Exeunt.

Scene 2.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. Affectionata. Hast thou forgiven me my fault of doubting of thy vertue, so much as to put it to a Tryal.

Affectionata. My Noble Lord, have you forgiven my facility and wavering, faith that could so easily, and in so short a time believe you could be wicked, although you did accuse your self.

Lord Singularity. Nay Affectionata, I did not accuse my self, though I did try thee.

Affectionata. Then I have committed a treble fault through my mistake, which requires a treble forgiveness.

Lord Singularity. Thou art so vertuous, thou canst not commit a fault, and therefore needs no forgiveness.

Exeunt.

Scene 3.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and Sir Humphry Bold.

Sir Humpry Bold. Madam, You have been pleased to profess a friendship to me, and I shall desire you will do a friendly part for me.

Lady Wagtail. Any thing that lyes in my power, good Sir Humphry Bold.

Sir Humphry Bold. Then pray, Madam, speak to the Lady Bashfull in my behalf, that I may be her Husband.

Lady Wagtail. I will Sir Humphry, but she is bashfull, yet I was there Yesterday, and she entertained me indifferently well, but seemed to be wonderfull coy; but howsoever I will do my poor indeavour, Sir Humphry.

Sir Humphry Bold. Pray do, Madam.

Exeunt.

Scene. 4.

Enter Affectionata, walking in a melancholly posture; his Hat pulled over his brows, and his arms inter-folded; To himentens the Lord Singularity.

Lord Singularity. My Affectionata, Why walks thou so melancholly?

He pulls of his Hat to his Lord, and Bows.

Affectionata. The cause is not that I lye under an aspersion, by reason I lye not under a crime; But truly, my Lord, I am troubled that I am threatened to be tormented, for I would not willingly indure pain, though I could willingly receive death; but as for the aspersions, I am no wayes concerned; for I make no question, but my honest life, my just actions, and the truth of my words, will so clear me at the last, as I shall appear as innocent to the World, as Angels doth in Heaven.

Lord Singularity. Comfort your self, for I will rather suffer death, than you shall suffer pain.

Affectionata. Heaven defend you, my Lord, whatsoever I suffer, Ex.

Scene 5.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and Mistriss Reformer.

Lady Wagtail. Pray Mistriss Reformer, be Sir Humphry Bold’s friend to thy Lady, and I protest to thee, he shall be thy friend, as long as he and you live, and I do not see any reason your Lady should refuse him; for he is both as proper and stout a man, as any is living this day in the Land.

Reformer. Indeed Madam, I dare not mention it to my Lady, for she is so adverse against marriage, as she takes those for her enemies as doth but mention it.

Lady Wagtail. Then surely she is not a woman, for there is none of the efseminate Sex, but takes it for a disgrace to live an old maid, and rather than dye one, they will marry any man that will have them; and the very fear of not marrying, is so terrible to them, as whilst they are so young, as they are not fit to make wives, they will miserably cast away themselves to the first that makes a proffer, although they be poor, base or mean, rather than venture to try out their fortunes.

Reformer. But my Lady is not of that humour.

Lady Wagtail. Come, come, I know thou canst perswade thy Lady if thou wouldst, and if you will, Sir Humphry Bold will give thee 500 l. to buy thee a Husband, for thou hast lived too long a maid I faith.

Reformer. I am not a maid, Madam, I am a widow.

Lady Wagtail. What, a musty widow!

Reformer. I know not whether I am musty, but I am a widow.

Lady Wagtail. Let mee tell thee, that it is as great a disgrace to live a widow, as an old maid; wherefore take thee 500 l. to get thee a second Husband.

Reformer. Truly I would not sell my Lady for all the World, much less, for 500 l. neither would I marry again, if I were young, and might have my choyce.

Lady Wagtail. Lord bless me, and send me out of this house, least it should infect me; for let me tell thee, were my Husband dead to morrow, I would marry the day after his Funeral, if I could get any man to marry me, and so I would serve 20. Husbands one after another.

Reformer. Your best way were to have 20. Husbands at one time, so that your Ladyship might not be a day without.

Lady Wagtail. O fie! If women might have twenty Husbands, they would have no room for courtly Servants; but prithy help Sir Humphry Bold, and take his offer, and let me speak with the Lady my self.

Reformer. That your Ladyship cannot at this time, for my Lady is not well.

Lady Wagtail. Then pray remember my most humble service, and tell her, I will come to morrow, and if she be sick, I will talk her well.

Lady Wagtail Ex.Reformer alone.

Reformer. Dead you would talk her, for thou hast an endless tongue; Oh! what man is so miserable that is her Husband.

Reformer Exit.

Scene 6.

Enter two or three Commanders.

1. Commander. It is reported that our Generals Page hath behaved himself so handsomly, spoke so wittily, defended his cause so prudently, declared his innocence so clearly, and carried his business so wisely, as the Venetian States have not only quitted him freely, but doth applaud him wonderfully, extolls him highly, and offers him any satisfaction for the injurie and disgrace that hath been done him; but he only desires, that the man that had accused him, which man, was one of the Generals men, should be pardoned, and not punished.

2. Commander. I hope our General is well pleased, that his beloved boy is not only cleared, but applauded.

1. Commander. O! He doth nothing but imbrace him, and kiss him, as if he were his only son, yet he did gently chide him that he asked pardon for his accusers; for said he, if all false accusers should be pardoned, no honest man would escape free form censure.

3. Commander. But I hear the States have given order to our General to meet the Turkes again, for it is reported by intelligences that they have recruited into a numerous body.

2. Commander. Faith I think the Turkes are like the tale of the Gyant, that when his head was cut off there rise two in the place.

1. Commander. I think they are like the vegetable that is named threefold, the more it is cut the faster it growes.

3. Commander. I would the Devil had them for me.

2. Commander. We do what we can to send them to Hell; but whether they will quit thee, I cannot tell.

Exeunt.

Scene. 7.

Enter the Lord General, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. My Affectionata I wonder you could suffer an accusation so patiently knowing you were accused falsly.

Affectionata. The clearnesse of my innocency needed not the fury of a violent passion to defend it, neither could passion have rectified an injury.

Lord Singularity. Tis true, yet passion is apt to rise in defence of innocency, and honour.

Affectionata. And many times passion (my Lord) destroye; the life in striving to maintaine the truth, and defend the innocent; but I find a passionate sorrow that your Lordship must go to indanger your life in the warrs again.

Lord Singularity. The warrs is pastime to me, for I hate idlenesse, and no imployment pleases me better than fighting, so it be in a good cause, but you shall stay.

Affectionata. Why my Lord, are you weary of my service?

Lord Singul. Know I am carefull of thy safety, thy rest and peace, for shouldst thou not come near danger, yet the very tragical aspect will terrefie thee to death, thou art of so tender a nature, so soft and sweet a disposition.

Affectionata. Truly my Lord, if you leave me behind you, the very fear of your life will kill me, where if your Lordyship will let me go, love will give me courage.

Lord Singul. Then let me tell you, you must not go, for I have adopted you my Son, and I have setled all my Estate upon thee, where, if I am killed, you shall be my Heir, for I had rather vertue should inherit my Estate than birth, yet I charge thee take my Name upon thee, as well as my Estate unto thee.

Affectionata. My noble Lord, I should be prouder to bear your name, than to be Master of the whole World, but I shall never be so base to keep my self in safety, in hope of your Estate, wherefore must intreat your leave to go with you.

Lord Singul. I will not give you leave, but command you to the contrary, which is to stay.

Affectionata. I cannot obey you in this, for love will force me to run after you.

Lord Singul. I will have you lash’d, if you offer to go.

Affectionata. Stripes cannot stay me!

Lord Singul. I will have you tyed, and kept by force.

Affectionata. By Heaven, my Lord, i’l tear my flesh, and break my bones to get lose, and if I have not legs to run, i’l creep thorough the Earth like worms, for though I shall move but slowly, yet it will be a satisfaction to my soul, that I am travelling after you,

Lord Singularity. Affectionata, You anger me very much.

Affectionata. Indeed my Lord, you grieve me more than I can anger you.

Affectionata weeps.

Lord Singularity. What, do you crie! and yet desire to be a souldier?

Affectionata. A valiant heart, my Lord, may have a weeping eye to keep it company.

Lord Singularity. If no perswasion can stay you, you must go along with me.

Affectionata bows, as giving his Lord thanks. Exeunt.

Scene 8.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, the Lady Amorous, Sir Humphry Bold, Sir Timothy Compliment, to the Lady Bashfull, who hangs down her head, as out of countenance.

Lady Wagtail. Faith Lady Bashfull, we will have you abroad to Balls and publick meetings, to learn you a confident behaviour, and a bold speech; Fie! You must not be bashfull.

Lady Amorous. Our visiting her sometimes, hath made her so, as she is not altogether so bashfull as she was.

Enter Sir Serious Dumb, who bows first to the Lady Bashfull, then to the rest of the Company, and then goeth behind the Lady Bashfull, and stands close by Mistriss Reformer.

Lady Amorous. Surely Sir Serious Dumb is a domestick servant here, he stands and waits as one. He bows with an acknowledging face.

Sir Humphry Bold. If she wil entertain such servants as he, she is not so modest as she appears. Lady, perchance if I had come privately alone, I had been entertained with more freedom, and not have had my suit denied, and my person neglected with scorn, and he received with respect.

Sir Serious Dumb comes and gives him a box on the eare, they both draw their swords, all the women runs away squeeking, only the Lady Bashfull stayes, and runs betwixt their swords, and parts them; Sir Timothy Compliment looks on as affraid to stir.

Lady Bashfull. For Heaven sake! fight not here, to affright me with your quarrels.

Sir Humphry Bold. I will have his heart-bloud.

Lady Bashfull. Good Sir Serious Dumb, and Sir Humphry Bold, leave off fighting.

Sir Serious Dumb draws back.

Lady Bashfull. Pray Sir Humphry Bold, give me your sword, that I may be sure you will not fight.

Sir Humphry Bold. What, yield my sword up! I will dye first.

Enter the Ladies again. All speak at one time, who is kill’d, who is kill’d.

Sir Humphry Bold presses towards Sir Serious Dumb.

Lady Bashfull. Good Ladies, hold Sir Humphry Bold, and I will try to perswade Sir Serious Dumb.

They hold Sir Humphry Bold.

Lady Wagtail. What, you shall not stir, I am sure you will not oppose us women.

Lady Bashfull. Noble Sir, to give me an assurance you will not fight, give me your sword.

Sir Serious Dumb kisses the bilt of his sword, then gives it her. Sir Humphry Bold gets lose from the Ladies, and goeth to assault Sir Serious Dumb; He being an armed, the Lady Bashfull seeing him, steps betwixt them, and with Sir Serious Dumb’s sword, strikes at Sir Humphry Bold, and strikes his sword out of his hand.

Lady Bashfull. What, are you not ashamed to assault an unarmed man.

Sir Humphry Bold runs to take up his sword, she also runs and sets her foot upon it.

Lady Bashfull. Let the sword alone, for it is my prize; and by Heaven, if you touch it, I will run you thorough with this sword in my hand.

Sir Humphry Bold runs, and catcheth Sir Timothy Compliments sword, and offers to make a thrust at Sir Serious Dumb, who puts the sword by, and beats it down with one hand, and with the other strikes it aside, then closes with him, and being skillfull at Wrestling, trips up his heels, then gets upon him, The women in the mean time squeeks. and having both his hands at liberty, wrings out Sir Humphry Bold’s sword out of his hand, then ariseth and gives the sword to the right owner, who all the time trembled for fear, and never durst strive to part them.

Sir Humphry Bold. Hell take me, but I will be revenged: Lady, I hope you will give me my sword again.

Lady Bashfull. Never to fight against a woman, but my victorious spoils, I will deliver to this gallant Gentleman, who delivered up his life and honour into my hand, when he gave me his sword, and I indangered the loss of both by taking it, for which my gratitude hath nothing to return him but my self and fortunes, if he please to accept of that and me.

Sir Serious Dumb bows with a respect, and kisses her hand.

Lady Bashfull. Sir, I wish my person were more beautifull than it is, for your sake, and my fortune greater, with more certainty of continuance, as neither being subject to time or accident, but this certainly I will promise you, which is, my chaste and honest life; Now Sir, pray take these two swords, Gives him the two swords. this was yours, fear gave me confidence, this I won, love gave me courage.

Sir Serious Dumb leads out his Mistriss. Exit.

Sir Humphry Bold. I will be revenged.

Omnes Exeunt.

ACT II.

Scene 9.

Enter the Lord General, and Affectionata.

Lord Singul. Affectionata, I hear thou hast bought Arms, I am sure thou canst not fight.

Affectionata. I am sure I will do my indeavour, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. Why, the very weight of thy Arms will sink thee down.

Affectionata. O no, my Lord; my desire shall beat them up.

Lord Singul. Alas, thou halt no strength to fight?

Affectionata. What strength my active body wants, my vigorous spirits shall make good.

Lord Singul. Prethee, my boy, do not adventure thy self, but stay in my Tent.

Affectionata. That would be a shame for me, and a dishonour to you, since you have adopted me your son, wherefore the World shall never say, you have bestowed your favour and your love upon a coward.

Lord Singularity. I well perceive I have adopted a very willfull boy?

Affectionata. Indeed, my Lord, I have no will, but what doth follow you.

The General strokes Affectionata on the cheek. Exeunt.

Scene. 10.

Enter Sir Serious Dumb, and his Mistriss the Lady Bashfull.

Sir Serious Dumb. The time I vowed to silence is expir’d, and though my thoughts not gloriously attired with Eloquence, for Rhetorick I have none, yet civil words, sit for to wait upon a modest Lady, and to entertain an honest mind with words of truth, though plain? For ‘tis not Rhetorick makes a happy life, but sweet society, that’s void of strife.

Lady Bashfull. Sir Rhetorick is rather for sound than sense, for words than reason.

Sir Serious Dumb. Yet my sweet Mistriss, I wish my voice were tuned to your eare, and every word set as a pleasing note to make such musick as might delight your mind.

Lady Bashfull. Your words slow thorough my ears, as smooth, clear, pure water from the spring of Hellicon, which doth not only refresh, but inrich my dull insipid brain.

Scene 11.

Enter a Captain and his _Corporal._

Corporal. The Turks never received such a blow, as they have this time?

Captain. A pox of them, they have made us sweat?

Corporal. Why Captain, sweating will cure the Pox, and though you curse the Turks, yet it is we that live in Italy, that is diseased with them.

Captain. The truth is, we lost more health in the Venetian service, than we gain wealth.

Corporal. Nay faith Captain, we do not only lose our health, but wast our wealth, for what booties we get from the Turks, the Courtezans gets from us.

Captain. For that cause now I have gotten a good bootie, I will return into mine own Country, and buy a—

Corporal. A what Captain?

Captain. An Office in civil Government.

Corporal. But you will never be civil in your Office.

Captain. That needs not to be, for though all Magisterial Offices bears a civil Authority, yet the Officers and Magistrates therein, are more cruel and ravenons than common souldiers.

Corporal. Verily Captain, I think common Souldiers are more mercifull and just than they.

Captain. Verely Corporal, I think you will become a Puritan Preacher.

Corporal. Why should you think so, Captain.

Captain. First, because you have got the Pox, and that will make you Preach in their tone, which is, to speak thorough the nose; the next is, you have left the ranting Oaths that Souldier’s use to swear, and use their phrases; as verily my beloved brethren, which brethrens souls, they care not for, nor thinks thereof, for though they speak to the brethren, they Preach to the sisters, which edifies wonderfully by their Doctrine, and they gain and receive as wonderfull from their female Hocks, for those Puritan Preachers have more Tithes out of the Marriage-bed, than from the Parish-stock.

Corporal. If it be so beneficial, Captain, I had rather be a Puritan Preacher, than an Atheistical States-man.

Captain. Faith Corporal, I think there is not much Religion in either, but if there be, it lies in the States-man, for he keeps Peace, the other makes War.

Corporal. If they make wars; they are our friends, for we live by the spoils of our enemies.

Captain. ‘Tis true, when as we get a victory, or else our enemies lives on the spoil of us, for though we have no goods to lose, yet we venture our lives, neither do we live on the spoil of our enemies, but only in forreign wars, for in civil wars we live by the spoil of our Friends, and the ruining of our Country.

Corporal. Then we are only obliged to Preachers for civil wars.

Captain. Faith Corporal, we are obliged to them for both; for as their faetious Doctrine causes a Rebellion by railing on the Governours and Governments, so their flattering Sermons sets a Prince on fire, who burns in hot ambition to conquer all the World.

Corporal. These latter Preachers you mention, Captain, are not Puritan Preachers, but Royal Preachers.

Captain. You are right Corporal, for they are divided in two parts, although their Doctrine meets at one end, which is in war.

Corporal. Captain, you have discovered so fully of Preachers, that if you will give me leave, I will preach to our Company.

Captain. Out you rogue, will you raise a war amongst our selves, causing a mutinie to cut one anothers throats?

Corporal. Why Captain, it is the fashion and practice for Souldiers to Preach now adayes.

Captain. That is amongst the Rebel party to keep up their faction, and to strengthen the flank thereof, but amongst the Royal party, the Preaching Ministers turn fighting Souldiers, incouraging with their good example, as by their valliant onsets, and not the Souldiers Preaching Ministers.

Corporal. Why Captain, the Royal party needs no incouragement, the justice of their cause is sufficient.

Captain. You say right, they want not courage to fight, but they want conscience to plunder; Besides, the Royal party is apt to give quarter, which should not be, for Souldiers should destroy all they take in Civil-wars, by reason there is no gain to be made of their Prisoners, as by the way of Ransoms, but if we stay from our Company, our General will preach such a Sermon, as may put us into despair of his favour, and indanger our lives at the Council of war.

Exeunt.

Scene 12.

Enter three or four Commanders.

1. Commander. I think our Generals new made son is a spirit; for when the General was surrounded with the Turks, this adopted Son of his flew about like lightening, and made such a massacre of the Turks, as they lay as thick upon the ground, as if they had been mushromes.

2. Commander. Certainly the General had been taken Prisoner, if his Son had not rescued him, for the General had adventured too far into the enemies body.

1. Commander. ‘Tis strange, and doth amaze me with wonder, to think how such a Willow-twig could bore so many mortal holes in such strong timber’d bodies as the Turks.

2. Commander. By him one would believe miracles were not ceast.

3. Commander. Well, for my part I will ask pardon of my General for condemning him privately in my thoughts, for I did think him the most fond, (I will not say what) for adopting a poor Beggar-boy for his son, and setled all his Estate, which is, a very great one upon him.

1. Commander. The truth is, he is a very gallant youth, and if he lives and continues in the wars, he will prove a most excellent Souldier.

2. Commander. Certainly he sprung from a Noble Stock, either by his Fathers side, or by his Mothers.

1. Commander. By his behaviour he seems Nobly born from both.

3. Commander. And by his poverty, Nobly born from neither.

1. Commander. Mean persons may have wealth, and Noble births be Beggars.

Exeunt.

Scene 13.

Enter Affectionata in brave cloths, Hat and Feather, and a Sword by his side, and a great many Commanders following and attending him, with their Hats off, the whilst he holds off his Hat to them.

Affectionata. Gentlemen, I beseech you, use not this ceremonie to me, it belongs only to my Lord General.

Commanders. Your merits and gallant actions deserves it from us; Besides, it is your due, as being the Generals adopted Son.

Affectionata. My Lords favour may place a value on me, though I am poor in worth, and no wayes deserves this respect.

1. Commander. Faith Sir, had it not been for you, we had lost the battel.

Affectionata. Alas, my weak arm could never make a conquest, although my will was good, and my desire strong to do a service.

2. Commander. Sir, the service was great, when you rescued our General, for when a General is taken or kill’d, the Armies are put to rout, for then the common Souldiers runs away, never stayes to fight it out.

Affectionata. I beseech you Gentlemen, take not the honour from my Lord to give it me, for he was his own defence, and ruine to his enemies; for his valiant spirits shot thorouh his eyes, and struck them dead, thus his own courage was his own safety, and the Venetians victory.

Enter a Messenger from the Venetian-States to Affectionata, he bows to him.

Messenger. Noble Sir, the Venetian-States hath made you Lieutenant General of the whole Armie, and one of the Council of War, where they desire your presence.

Affectionata. The honours they have given me, is beyond my management.

Messenger Exit. As Affectionata was going forth, enters some poor Souldiers Wives with Petitions, offers to present them to Affectionata.

1. Wife.. Good your Honour, speak in the behalf of my Petition.

2. Wife.. And mine.

3. Wife.. And mine.

Affectionata. Good women, I cannot do you service, for if your Petitions are just, my Lord the General will grant your request, and if they be unjust, he will not be unjust in granting them for my intrearie, nor will I intreat therefore.

Wives. If it please your Honour, we implore Mercy, not Justice.

Affectionata. Where Justice and Wisdom will give leave for Mercy, I am sure my Lord will grant it, otherwise, what you call mercy, will prove cruelty, and cause ruine and destruction.

Wives. We beseech your Honour then, but to deliver our Petitious.

Affectionata. For what are they?

Wives. For the lives of our Husbands.

Affectionata. Are they to be executed?

Wives. They are condemned, and to be hanged to morrow, unless the General gives them pardons.

Affectionata. What are their crimes?

1. Wife.. My Husband is to be hanged for plundering a few old rotten Houshold-goods.

Affectionata. Give me your Petition, necessity might inforce him.

2. Wife.. My Husband is to be hanged for disobeying his Captain when he was drunk.

Affectionata. When which was drunk? your Husband or his Captain?

Wife. My Husband.

Affectionata. Disobedience ought to be severely punished, yet because his reason was drowned in his drink, and his understanding smothered with the vapour thereof, whereby he knew not what he did, I will deliver your Petition.

Affectionata. And what is yours?

3. Wife.. My Husband is to be hanged for ravishing a Virgin.

Affectionata. I will never deliver a Petition for those that are Violaters of Virginity, I will sooner act the Hang-mans part my self to strangle him.

Affectionata. And what is your Husbands crime?

4. Wife. My Husband is to be hanged for murther.

Affectionata. O horrid! They that murther, ought to have no mercy given to them, since they could give no mercy to others.

Wives. Good your Honour.

Affectionata. Nay, never press me, for I will never deliver your Petition.

Wives Exeunt. Enter Commanders that were to be Cashiered (to Petition Affectionata.)

Captain. Noble Sir, I come to intreat you to be my friend, to speak to the General in my behalf, that I may remain in my place, for I am to be cashierd.

Affectionata. For what?

Captain. For a small fault, Sir, for when the battel was begun, I had such a cholick took me in the stomach, as I was forced to go aside, and untruss a point.

Affectionata. It had been more for your honour, Captain, to had let nature discharge it self in your breeches. And what, are you cashiered Captain?

Captain. Marry, for my good service, for when the battel begun, my Souldiers run away, and I run after to call them back, they run, and I rid so long, as we were gotten ten miles from the Armie, but I could not get them, untill such time as the battel was won.

Affectionata. It had been more honour for you to have fought single alone without your Souldiers, than to have followed your Souldiers, although to make them stay, and you would have done more service with your standing still than your running; and what, are you to be cashiered?

Captain. Why Sir, my company wanted Powder, and I went to fetch or give order; for some to be brought, and before I returned to my Company, the battel was won.

Affectionata. It had been more for your honour and good service, to have stayed and incouraged your Souldiers by your example with sighting with your sword, for the sword makes a greater execution than the shot; but since they were not wilfull, nor malicious faults, I shall do you what service I can, for fear sometimes may seize the valiantest man. And what were your faults Colonel?

1. **_Colonel._** Mine was for betraying a Fort.

Affectionata. O base! He that betrays a Fort, ventures to betray a Kingdom, which is millions of degrees worse than to betray a life, or a particular friend; for those that betrays a Kingdom, betrays numbers of lifes, and those that betrays their native Country, betrays that which gave them nourishing strength, and you have had great mercy in giving you your life, although you lose your place. And what was your fault?

Commander. Mine was for neglecting the Watch.

Affectionata. That is as bad as to give leave for the enemie to surprize, only the one betrays through carelesness, the other through covetousness. And what was your fault Colonel?

Colonel. Mine was for disobeying the Generals Orders.

Affectionata. Let me tell you Colonel, he that will not obey, is not fit to command; and those that commits careless, stubborn, malicious and wicked crimes; I will never deliver their Petition, nor speak in their behalf.

Commanders Exeunt.Enter a poor _Souldier._

Souldier. Good your Honour save me from punishment.

Affectionata. What are you to be punished for?

Souldier. I am to be punished, because I said my Captain was a coward.

Affectionata. What reason had you to say so?

Souldier. The reason was, because he sung and whistled when he went to fight.

Affectionata. That might be to shew his courage.

Souldier. O no, it was to hide his fear.

Affectionata. But you ought not to have called your Captain coward, had he been so; for the faults of Superiours are to be winked at, and obscured; and not to be divulged: Besides, yours was but a supposition, unless he ran away.

Souldier. No Sir, he fought.

Affectionata. Then you were too blame for judging so.

Souldier. I confess it, Sir, wherefore pray speak for me.

Affectionata. Indeed I cannot, for to call a man coward, is to kill, at least to wound his reputation, which is far worse, that if you had kill’d the life of his body; by how much honour is to be preferred before life; but if you can make your peace with your Captain by asking his pardon; I will then speak to the General, that the sentence for your punishment may be taken off, wherefore let me advise you to go to your Captain, and in the most humblest and sorrowfulst manner ask forgiveness of him.

Souldier. I shall, and it please your Honour.

Exeunt.

Scene 14.

Enter Sir Peaceable Studious solus.

Sir Peaceable Studious. How happy is a private life to me;
Wherein my thoughts ran easily and free;
And not disturb’d with vanities and ioyes,
On which the senses gazes, as young boys
On watery bubbles in the aire blown,
Which when they break, doth vanish and are gone.

Enter the Lady Ignorance.

Lady Ignorance. I doubt I disturb your Poetry?

Sir P. Studious. No wife, you rather give life and fire to my muse, being chaste, fair and vertuous, which are the chief theams for Poets fancies to work on.

Lady Ignorance. But that wife that is despised by her Husband, and not loved, is dejected in her own thoughts, and her mind is so disquietted, as it masks her beauty, and vails, and obscures her vertues.

Sir P. Studious. The truth is, wife, that if my affections to you, had not been firmly setled; your indiscretion and effeminate follies had ruined it, but my love is so true, as you have no cause to be jealouse; but I confess you made me sad, to think that your humour could not sympathize with mine, as to walk in the same course of life as I did, but you were ignorant and would not believe me, untill you had found experience by practice, by which practice you have found my words to be true, do you not?

Lady Ignorance. Yes, so true, as I shall never doubt them more; But pray Husband, tell me what discourse you had with the Ladies, when you went abroad with them?

Sir P. Studious. Why, they railed against good Husbands, called them Uxorious Fools, Clowns, Blocks, Stocks, and that they were only fit to be made Cuckolds through their confident fondness, and that kind Husbands appeared like simple Asses; I answered, that those Husbands that were Cuckolds, appeared not only like silly Asses, but base Cowards, that would suffer their wives to be courted, and themselves dishonoured when they ought to destroy their wives Gallants, if visibly known, and to part from their wives, at least to mancor them, and not only for being falfe, but for the suspition caused by their indiscretions; otherwise said I, a kind Husband shews himself a Gallant, Noble, Generous, Just, Wise man, and contrary, he is a base man, that will strive to disgrace himself, by disgracing his wife with neglects and disrespects; and a coward, to tyranize only over the weak, tender, and helpless Sex; for women being tender, shiftless, and timorous creatures by nature, is the cause they joyn themselves by chaste Wedlock to us men for their safety, protection, honour and livelyhood, and when a man takes a woman to his wife, he is an unworthy and treacherous person, if he betrays her to scorns, or yields her to scoffs, or leaves her to poverty; and he is a base man that makes his wife sigh and weep with unkindness either by words or actions, wherefore said I, it is wisdom for men to respect their wives with a civil behaviour, and sober regard, and it is heroick to defend, protect and guard their lives and vertues, to be constant to their vows, promises and protestations, and it is generous to cherish their health, to attend them in their sickness, to comply with their harmless humours, to entertain their discourses, to accompany their persons, to yield to their lawfull desires, and to commend their good graces, and that man which is a Husband, and doth not do thus, is worthy to be shamed, and not to be kept company with, which is not called an Uxorious Husband; for said I, an Uxorious Husband I understand to be, a honest, carefull and wise Husband.

Lady Ignorance. And what said they, after you said this?

Sir P. Studious. They laugh’d and said, my flowery Rhetorick was strewed upon a dirty ground; I answered, it was not dirty where I lived, for my wife was beautifull, chaste and cleanly, and I wished every man the like, and after they perceived that neither the railing, nor laughing at good Husbands could not temper me for their palats, they began to play and sport with one another, and sung wanton songs, and when all their baits failed, they quarreled with me, and said I was uncivil, and that I did not entertain them well, and that I was not good Company, having not aconversable wit, nor a gentle behaviour, and that I was not a gallant Cavalier, and a world of those reproches and idle discourses, as it would tire me to repeat it, and you to hear it.

Lady Ignorance. Pray resolve me one question more, what was it you said to the Lady Amorous, when she threatned to tell me?

Sir P. Studious. I only said nature was unkind to our Sex, in making the beautifull females cruel.

Lady Ignorance. Was that all, I thought you had pleaded as a courtly Sutor for loves favours.

Sir P. Studious. No indeed, but let me tell you, and so inform you, wife, that those humour’d women, take as great a pleasure to make wives jealouse of their Husbands, and Husbands jealouse of their wives, and to seperate their affections, and to make a disorder in their Families, as to plot and design to intice men to court them, & Cuckold their Husband, also let me tell you, that much company, and continual resort, brings great inconveniences for its apt to corrupt the mind, and make the thoughts wild, the behaviour bold, the words vain, the discourse either flattering, rude or tedious, their actions extravagant, their persons cheap, being commonly occompanyed, or their company common. Besides, much variety of Company, creates amorous luxurie, vanity, prodigality, jealousie, envie, malice, slander, envie, treachery, quartels, revenge and many other evils, as laying plots to insnare the Honourable, to accuse the Innocent, to deceive the Honest, to corrupt the Chaste, to deboyst the Temperate, to pick the purse of the Rich, to inslave the poor, to pull down lawfull Authority, and to break just Laws; but when a man lives to himself within his own Familie, and without recourse, after a solitary manner, he lives free, without controul, not troubled with company, but entertains himself with himself, which makes the soul wise, the mind sober, the thoughts industrious, the understanding learned, the heart honest, the senses quiet, the appetites temperate, the body healthfull, the actions just and prudent, the behaviour civil and sober; He governs orderly, eats peaceably, sleeps quietly, lives contentedly, and most commonly, plentifully and pleasantly, ruling and governing his little Family to his own humour, wherein he commands with love, and is obeyed with duty, and who that is wise, and is not mad; would quit this heavenly life to live in hellish Societies, and what can an honest Husband and wife desire more, than love, peace and plenty, and when they have this, and is not content, ‘tis a sign they stand upon a Quagmire, or rotten Foundation, that will never hold or indure, that is, they are neither grounded on honesty, nor supported with honour.

Lady Ignorance. Well Husband, I will not interupt your studies any longer, but as you study Phylosophie, Wisdom and Invention, so I will study obedience, discretion and Houswifery.

Omnes Exeunt.

ACT III.

Scene 15.

Enter the General, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. Affectionata, Were you never bred to the Discipline of War?

Affectionata. Never, my Lord, but what I have been since I came to you.

Lord Singularity. Why, thou didst speak at the Council of War, as if thou hadst been an old experienced souldier, having had the practice of fourty years, which did so astonish the grave Senators and old Souldiers, that they grew dumb, and for a while did only gaze on thee.

Affectionata. Indeed, my Lord, my young years, and your grave Counsel did not suit together.

Lord Singularity. But let me tell thee, my boy, thy rational and wise speeches, and that grave counsels was not mis-match’d.

Affectionata. Pray Heaven I may prove so, as your favours, and your love may not be thought misplaced.

Lord Singularity. My Love thinks thee worthy of more than I can give thee, had I more power than Caesar had.

Exeunt.

Scene 16.

Enter some Commanders.

1. Commander. I hear that the Duke of Venice is so taken with our Generals adopted Son, as he will adopt him his Son.

2. Commander. Hay-day! I have heard that a Father hath had many Sons, but never that one Son hath had so many Fathers; but contrary, many Sons wants fathering.

3. Commander. ‘Tis true, some Sons hath the misfortune not to be owned, but let me tell you Lieutenant, there be few children that hath not many such Fathers; as one begets a childe, a second owns the childe, a third keeps the childe, which inherits as the right Heir; and if a fourth will adopt the childe; a fift, or more may do the like, if they please.

1. Commander. So amongst all his Fathers, the right Father is lost.

3. Commander. Faith, the right Father of any childe is seldome known, by reason that women takes as much delight in deceiving the World, and dissembling with particular men, as in the cuckolding their Husbands.

2. Commander. The truth is, every several Lover cuckolds one another.

1. Commander. Perchance that is the reason that women strives to have so many Lovers; for women takes pleasure to make Cuckolds.

3. Commander. And Cuckolds to own children.

Exeunt.

Scene 17.

Enter Affectionata, then enters to him, two or three Venetian Gentlemen, as Embassadors from the Duke of Venice.

1. Gentleman. Noble Sir, the great Duke of Venice hath sent us to let you know he hath adopted you his Son, and desires your company.

Affectionata. Pray return the great Duke thanks, and tell him those favours are too great for such a one as I; but if he could, and would adopt me, as Augustus Caesar did Tiberius, and make me master of the whole World; by Heaven I would refuse it, and rather chose to live in a poor Cottage, with my most Noble Lord.

2. Gentleman. But you must not deny him; Besides, he will have you.

Affectionata. I will dye first, and rather chose to bury my self in my own tears, than build a Throne with ingratitude.

1. Gentleman. But it is ungratefull to deny the Duke.

Affectionata. O no, but I should be the ingrate of ingratitude, should I leave my Noble Lord, who from a low despised poor mean degree, advanced me to Respect and Dignity: Whose favours I will keep close in my heart,
And from his person I will never part.
For though I dye, my soul will still attend,
And wait upon him, as his faithfull friend.

He offers to go away in a melancholly posture and humour, so as not considering the Gentlemen. Whereupon one of them follows him, and catches hold of his Cloak.

2. Gentleman. Noble Sir, will not you send the Duke an answer?

Affectionata. Have not I answered? Then pray present my thanks in the most humblest manner to the great Duke, and tell him he may force the presence of my person, but if he doth, it will be but as a dead carcase without a living soul; for tell him, when I am from my Lord,

I withering vade, as flowers from Sun sight;
His presence is to me, as Heavens light.

Affectionata Exit.

1. Gentleman. ‘Tis strange that such an honour cannot perswade a boy!

2. Gentleman. That proves him a boy, for if he had been at mans estate, he would not have refused it, but have been ambitious of it, and proud to receive it.

1. Gentl. Indeed youth is foolish, and knows not how to chose.

2. Gentl. When he comes to be a man, he will repent the folly of his youth.

Exeunt.

Scene 18.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Lady Wagtail not knowing Sir Serious could speak.

Lady Wagtail. Pray Madam, let me perswade you, not to cast your self away, to marry a dumb man; for by my troth, all those that are dumb, are meer fools; for who can be witty or wise that cannot speak, or will not speak, which is as bad.

Lady Bashfull. Why Madam? wisdom nor wit, doth noth not live not lye in words, for prudence, fortitude and temperance, expresses wisdom and capacity; ingenuity and fancie expresseth wit, and not words.

Lady Wagtail. But let me advise you to chose Sir Humphry Bold, he is worth a thousand of Sir Serious Dumb; besides, he is a more learned man by half, and speaks several Languages.

Lady Bashfull. Perchance so, and yet not so wise; for Parrots will learn Languages, and yet not know how to be wise, nor what wisdom is, which is to have a found judgement, a clear understanding, and a prudent forecast.

Lady Wagtail. Faith all the World will condemn you to have no forecast, if you marry Sir Serious Dumb.

Lady Bashfull. Let them speak their worst, I care not, as not fearing their censures.

Lady Wagtail. You were fearfull and bashfull.

Lady Bashfull. ‘Tis true, but now am grown so confident with honest love, I care not if all the World did know of it; nay, I wish it were published to all ears.

The Lady Bashfull offers to go away.

Lady Wagtail. Nay, you must not go, until you have granted my suit in the behalf of Sir Humphry Bold.

Lady Bashfull. Pray let me go, for I hate him more, than Heaven hates Hell.

Lady Wagtail. Nay, then I will leave you.

Exeunt.

Scene 19.

Enter Affectionata, who weeps. Enter the Lord Singularity.

Lord Singularity. Why weepest thou Affectionata?

Affectionata. Alas, my Lord, I am in such a passion, as I shall dye, unless it flows forth thorough mine eyes, and runs from off my tongue.

For like as vapours from the Earth doth rise,
And gather into clouds beneath the skies;
Contracts to water, swelling like moist veins,
When over-fill’d, falls down in showering rains:
So thoughts, which from a grieved mind are sent,
Ariseth in a vaporous discontent.
Contracts to melancholly, which heavy lies
Untill it melts, and runs forth through the eyes;
Unless the Sun of comfort, dry doth drink
Those watery tears that lyes at the eyes brink;
Or that the rayes of joy, which streams bright out
With active heat disperseth them about.

Lord Singularity. Faith Affectionata, I am no good Poet, but thy passion moves so sweetly in numbers and stops, so just with rhimes, as I cannot but answer thee, Like as the Sun beauty streams rayes about,

A smiling countenance like day breaks out:
And though a frown obscures sweet beauties sight,
Yet beauties beams makes cloudy frowns more bright:
But melancholly beauty doth appear
As pleasing shades, or Summers evenings clear.

So doth thine Affectionata, but prethee do not wast thy breath into sighs, nor distill thy life into tears.

Affectionata. I wish I might here breath my last, and close my eyes for ever.

Lord Singularity. I perceive Affectionata, you take it unkindly I did perswade you to take the Dukes offer; But if you think I did it out of any other design than a true affection to you; By Heaven, you do me wrong by false interpretation.

Affectionata. If you, my Lord, did love but half so well as I, you would rather chose to dye, than part with me.

Lord Singularity. I love thee beyond my own interest or delight, for what is best for thee, I account as the greatest blessing, should it bring me any other wayes a curse.

Affectionata. Then let me still live with you, for that is best for me.

Lord Singularity. Here I do vow to Heaven, to do my indeavour with my life to keep thee with me, or to be alwayes where thou art.

Affectionata. O! what a weight you have taken from my soul, wherein my thoughts like wer-winged-birds sate heavy; my senses like as blinking Lamps which vaporous damps of grief had neer put out.

Lord Singularity. Let me tell thee Affectionata, I have travelled far, observed much, and have had divers incounters, but I never met such vertue, found such truth, nor incountered such an affection as thine.

imbraces him.

And thus I do imbrace thee, and do wish our souls may twine,
As our each bodyes thus together joyn.

Exeunt.

######Scene 20.

Enter Sir Serious Dumb, and his Mistriss the Lady Bashfull.

Sir Serious Dumb. Dear Mistriss, do not you repent your favours, and wish your promise were never made; doth not your affection vade?

Lady Bashfull. No, it cannot, for never was any love placed upon a Nobler soul than my love is, which is on yours, insomuch, as I do glory in my affection, and grow self-conceited of its judgement.

Sir Serious Dumb. And will you be constant?

Lady Bashfull. Let not your humble thoughts raise a doubt of jealousie; for I am fixt, as time is to eternity.

Sir Serious Dumb. Then I thank nature for your Creation, honour for your Breeding, and heaven for your Vertue, and fortune that hath given you to me, for I can own nothing of that worth that could deserve you.

Lady Bashfull. I cannot condemn jealousie, because it proceeds from pure love, and love melts into kinds on a constant heart, but flames like Oyle on a false one, which sets the whole life on fire.

Sir Serious Dumb. But now I cannot doubt your love nor constancies, since you have promised your heart to me; for true Lovers are like the light and the Sun, inseparable.

Exeunt.

Scene 21.

Enter some Commanders.

1. Commander. Come fellow-souldiers, are you ready to march?

2. Commander. Whether?

1. Commander. Into our own native Country, for our General is sent sol home.

3. Commander. Except there be wars in our own Country, we cannot go with him.

1. Commander. I know not whether there be wars or peace, but he obeys, for he is preparing for his journey.

2. Commander. Who shall be General when he is gone?

3. Commander. I know not, but I hear the States offers to make our young Lieutenant-General, General, but he refuseth it.

2. Commander. Would they would make me General?

3. Commander. If thou wert General, thou wouldst put all method out of order.

1. Commander. Faith Gentlemen, I would lead you most prudently, and give you leave to plunder most unanimously.

1. Commander. And we would fight couragiously, to keep what we plunder.

2. Commander. Come, let us go, and inquire how our affairs goeth.

Exeunt.

Scene 22.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata.

Lord Singularity. Now Affectionata, we have taken our leave of the States: I hope thy mind is at peace, and freed from fears of being staid.

Affectionata. Yes my my Lord.

Lord Singularity. They did perswade thee much to stay.

Affectionata. They seemed much troubled for your Lordships departure.

Lord Singularity. Truly I will say thus much for my self, that I have done them good service, and I must say thus much for them, that they have rewarded me well.

Affectionata. I have heard, my Lord, that States seldom rewards a service done; wherefore I believe, they hope you will return again, and sees you for that end.

Lord Singularity. I shall not be unwilling when my Country hath no imployment for me.

Affectionata. Methinks, my Lord, since you have gotten afame abroad, you should desire to live a setled life at home.

Lord Singularity. A setled life would seem but dull to me that hath no wife nor children.

Affectionata. You may have both, If you please, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. For children I desire none, since I have thee, and wives I care not for, but what are other mens.

Enter a Messenger with a Letter to the Lord Singularity.

Lord Singularity. From whence comest thou friend?

Messenger. From Rome, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. If you please to stay in the next room, I shall speak to you presently.

Messenger Exit. The Lord Singularity breaks up the Letter and reads.

Lord Singularity. Affectionata, From whence do you think this Letter comes?

Affectionata. I cannot guess, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. From the Pope, who hath heard so much of thy youth, vertue, wit and courage, as he desires me to pass thorough Rome im my journey home, that he might see thee.

Affectionata. Pray Heaven his Holynesse doth not put me into a Monastery, and force me to stay behind you.

Lord Singularity. If he should, I will take the habit, and be incloistered with thee; but he will not inforce a youth that hath no will thereto.

Affectionata. Truly my Lord, I have no will to be a Fryer.

Lord Singularity. Indeed it is somewhat too lazie a life, which all heroick Spirits shames, for those loves liberty and action: But I will go and dispatch this Messenger, and to morrow we will begin our journey.

Exeunt.

Scene 23.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and the Lady Amorous.

Lady Wagtail. Faith Amorous, it had been a victory indeed worth the bragging off, if we could have taken Sir Peaceable Studious Loves prisoner, and could have infettered him in Cupid’s bonds.

Lady Amorous. It had been a victory indeed, for I will undertake to inslave five Courtiers, and ten Souldiers, sooner, and in less time than one studious Scholar.

Lady Wagtail. But some Scholars are more easily taken than the luxurious Courtiers, or deboist Souldiers.

Lady Amorous. O no! for Luxurie and Rapine begets lively Spirits, but a study quenches them out.

Lady Wagtail. One would think so by Sir Peaceable Studious, but not by some other Scholars that I am acquainted with.

Lady Amorous. But confess, Lady Wagtail, do not you find a studious Scholar dull company, in respect of a vain Courtier, and a rough Souldier.

Lady Wagtail. I must confess, they that study Philosophy, are little too much inclined to morality, but those that study Theologie, are not so restringent.

Lady Amorous. Well, for my part, since I have been acquainted with Sir Peaceable Studious, I hate all Scholars.

Exeunt.

Scene 24.

Enter three Men, as the Inhabitants of Rome.

1. Tis a wonder such a youth as the Lord Singularity’s Son is, should have so great a wit, as to be able to dispute with so many Cardinals.

2. Man. The greater wonder is, that he should have the better of them!

1. Man. ‘Tis said the Pope doth admire him! and is extreamly taken with him.

2. Man. If Iove had so much admired him, he would have made him his Ganimed.

1. Man. He offered to make him a living Saint, but he thanked his Holyness, and said, he might Saint him, but not make him holy enough to be a Saint, for said he, I am unfit to have Prayers offered to me, that cannot offer Prayers as I ought, or live as I should; then he offered him a Cardinals hat, but he refused it; saying he was neither wise enough, nor old enough for to accept of it; for said he. I want Ulisses head, and Nestors years to be a Cardinal, for though less devotion will serve a Cardinal than a Saint, yet politick wisdom is required.

3. Man. Pray Neighbours tell me which way, and by what means I may see this wonderfull youth; for I have been out of the Town, and not heard of him.

2. Man. You cannot see him now, unless you will follow him where he is gone.

1. Man. Why, whether is he gone?

2. Man. Into his own Country, and hath been gone above this week.

3. Man. Nay, I cannot follow him thither.

Exeunt.

Scene 25.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata, as being in the Country.

Lord Singularity. Affectionata, you have promised me to be ruled by me in every thing, so that you may not part from me.

Affectionata. I have, my Lord, and will obey all your commands, so far as I am able.

Lord Singularity. Then I am resolved now I am returned into my own Country, to get thee a wife, that thy fame and worthy acts may live in thy Posterity.

Affectionata. Iove bless me, a wife! by Heaven, my Lord, I am not man enough to marry!

Lord Singul. There is many as young as you, that have been Fathers, and have had children.

Affectionata. If they were such as I am, they might father Children, but never get them.

Lord Singularity. Thou art modest, Affectionata, but I will have you marry, and I will chose thee such a wife, as modest as thy self.

Affectionata. Then we never shall have children, Sir.

Lord Singul. Love and acquaintance will give you confidence; but tell me truly, Affectionata, didst thou never court a Mistriss?

Affectionata. No truly, Sir.

Lord Singularity. Well, I will have you practice Courtship, and though I will not directly be your Band or Pimp, yet I will send you amongst the effeminate Sex, where you may learn to sport with Ladies, as well as fight with Turks.

Affectionata speaks softly to her self; pray Jove they do not search me. Exeunt.

Scene 26.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and the Lady Amorous.

Lady Wagtail. I can tell you news?

Lady Amorous. What news?

Lady Wagtail. Sir Serious Dumb can speak again!

Lady Amorous. I am sorrow for that, for now he may tell tales out of School.

Lady Wagtail. If he do, we will whip him with the rods of tongues, which is more sharp than the rods of wyer.

Lady Amorous. We may whip him with words, but we our selves shall feel the smart of reproch.

Lady Wagtail. How simply you talk, as if reproch could hurt a woman; when reproch is born with us, and dyes with us.

Lady Amorous. If reproch have no power of our Sex, why are all women so carefull to cover their faults, and so fearfull to have their crimes divulged.

Lady Wagtail. Out of two reasons; first, because those of the masculine Sex, which have power, as Fathers, Uncles, Brothers and Husbands; would cut their throats, if they received any disgrace by them; for disgrace belongs more to men than women; The other reason is, that naturally women loves secrets; yet there is nothing they can keep secret, but their own particular faults, neither do they think pleasure sweet, but what is stollen.

Lady Amorous. By your favour, women cannot keep their own faults secret.

Lady Wagtail. O yes, those faults that may ruine them if divulged, but they cannot keep a secret that is delivered to their trust; for naturally women are unfit for trust, or council.

Lady Amorous. But we are fit for faction.

Lady Wagtail. The World would be but a dull World, if it were not for industrious factions.

Lady Amorous. The truth is, that if it were not for faction, the World would lye in the cradle of Peace, and be rock’d into a quiet sleep of security.

Lady Wagtail. Pr•thee talk not of quiet, and peace, and rest, for I hate them as bad as death.

Lady Amorous. Indeed they resemble death, for in death there is no wars nor noise.

Lady Wagtail. Wherefore it is natural for life, neither to have rest nor peace, being cantrary to death. Exeunt. —

ACT IV.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata.

Affectionata. My Lord, I hear the King hath invited you to attend him in his progress this Summer.

Lord Singularity. Yes, but I have made my excuse, and have got leave to stay at home; for I will tell thee truly, that I had rather march ten miles with an Artillery, than travel one with a Court; and I had rather fight a battel, than be bound to ceremony, or flattery, which must be practised if one live at Court: Besides, I have been bred to lead an Armie, and not to follow a Court; And the custom of the one have made me unacquainted, and so unfit for the other; for though I may truly say I am a good Souldier, yet I will confess ingenuously to thee, I am a very ill Courtier.

Affectionata. I think they are the most happiest, that are least acquainted with a great Monarchs Court.

Lord Singularity. I will tell thee a discourse upon this theam in the time of Henry the eighth of England, there were many Courtiers of all degrees about him, and the theam of their discourse was, who was the happiest man in England; So all the Nobles and inferiour Courtiers agreed unanimously it was his Majesty, and it could be no man else; and they all said, that their judgements was so clear in that point, that it could not admit of a contradiction, or dispute: Said Henry the eighth, by the body of our Lord, you are all mistaken; then said one of the Courtiers, I beseech your Majesty to tell us who is the happiest man; By the Lord, said the King, that Gentleman that lives to his profit, and dare moderately spend for his pleasure, and that neither knows me, nor I know him, he is the happiest man in the Kingdom; and I am of Henry the eights opinion; but howsoever, it were better to be such a one that goeth with the bagge and baggage of an Armie, than one of the tail of a Court.

Affectionata. But your Lordship would not refuse to be as the chief, as to be a Favourite; for a Favourite is more sought, feared and flattered, than the King himself.

Lord Singularity. I think I should not refuse to be a Favourite, by reason a Favourite is a General to command, Martial and Conduct in all affairs, both at home and abroad, in peace and in war, and all by the power and authority of the commission of Favourites.

Affectionata. Which Commission hath a greater and larger extent than any other Commission.

Lord Singularity. You say right, for it extends as far as the Kings power.

Exeunt

Scene 27.

Enter the Lady Bashfull, and Reformer her woman.

Reformer. Madam, shall your wedding be private, or publick?

Lady Bashfull. Private.

Reformer. I wonder you will have it private.

Lady Bashfull. Why do you wonder?

Reformer. Because the wedding-day is the only triumphant day of a young maids life.

Lady Bashfull. Do you call that a triumphant day, that inslaves a woman all her life after; no, I will make no triumph on that day.

Reformer. Why, you had better have one day than none.

Lady Bashfull. If my whole life were triumphant, it would be but as one day when it was past, or rather as no day nor time; for what is past, is as if it never were; and for one day I will never put my self to that ceremonious trouble, which belongs to feasting; revelling, dressing and the like.

Reformer. I perceive your Ladyship desires to be undrest upon the Wedding-day.

Lady Bashfull. No, that I do not, but as I will not be carelesly undrest, so I will not be drest for a Pageant show.

Exeunt.

Scene 28.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata

Affectionata. I think there is no Family more methodically ordered, prudently governed than your Lordships.

Lord Singularity. It were a disgrace to my profession, if I should not well know how to command; for a good Commander in the field, can tell how to be a good Manager in his private Family, although a prudent Master of a Family knows not how to be a skilfull Commander in the field; but a prudent Master must have a trusty Steward, so a knowing General must have a carefull and skilfull Lieutenant-General, or else he will be very much troubled; also both Master and General must have other Officers, or else they will not find their Accounts or Conquests as he hopes or expects; For neither General nor Master can order every particular command, nor rectifie every particular errour himself; for a Generals Office, is only to direct, order and command the chief Officers, and not the common Souldiers: So the Master of a Family, is only to direct, order and command his Steward, he the rest of the Officers, and the common servants, every one must order those that belongs to their several Offices.

Affectionata. Then the common Servants are like the common Souldiers.

Lord Singularity. They are so, and are as apt to mutiny, if they be not used with strickt discipline: Thus, if a Master of a Family have the right way in the management of his particular affairs, he may thrive easily, have plenty, live peaceably, be happy, and carry an honourable port with an indifferent Estate, when those of much greater Estates, which knows not, nor practices the right method, or rules and governs not with strictness, his servants shall grow factious, mutinous, and be alwaies in bruleries, by which disorders his Estate shall waste invisible, his servants cozen egregiously; he lives in penurie, his servants in riot, alwaies spending, yet alwaies wanting, forced to borrow, and yet hath so much, that if it were ordered with prudence, might be able to lend, when by his imprudence, he is troubled with stores, yet vex’d with necessity.

Affectionata. I should think that no man ought to be a Master of a Family, but those that can govern orderly and peaceably.

Lord Singularity. You say right, for every Master of a Family are petty-Kings, and when they have rebellions in their own small Monarchies, they are apt to disturb the general Peace of the whole Kingdom or State they live in; for those that cannot tell how to command their own Domesticks, and prudently order rheir own affairs, are not only uselesse to the Common-wealth, but they are pernicious and dangerous, as not knowing the benefit and necessity of obedience and method.

Exeunt.

Scene 29.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and the Lady Amorous.

Lady Wagtail. The Lord Singularity hath brought home the sweetest, and most beautifullest young Cavalier, as ever I saw.

Lady Amorous. Faith he appears like Adonas.

Lady Wagtail. Did you ever see Adonas?

Lady Amorous. No, but I have heard the Poets describe him.

Lady Wagtail. Venus and Adonas are only two poetical Ideas, or two Ideas in poetical brains.

Lady Amorous. Why, Ideas hath no names.

Lady Wagtail. O yes, for Poets christens their Ideas with names, as orderly as Christians Fathers doth their children.

Lady Amorous. Well, I wish I were a Venus for his sake.

Lady Wagtail. But if you were only a poetical Venus, you would have little pleasure with your Adonas.

Lady Amorous. Hay ho! He is a sweet youth.

Lady Wagtail. And you have sweet thoughts of the sweet youth.

Lady Amorous. My thoughts are like Mirtle-groves to entertain the Idea of the Lord Singularity’s Son.

Lady Wagtail. Take heed there be not a wild-boar in your Mirtle Imagenarie Grove, that may destroy your Adonas Idea.

Lady Amorous. There is no beast there, only sweet singing-birds called Nightingals.

Exeunt.

Scene 30.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and Affectionata.

Affectionata. Pray, my Lord, what Lady is that you make such inquiry for?

Lord Singularity. She is a Lady I would have thee marry; One that my Father did much desire I should marry, although she was very young, and may be now about thy years, I hear her Father is dead, but where the Lady is, I cannot find out.

Affectionata. Perchance she is married, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. Then we should find her out, by hearing who she hath marryed.

Affectionata. But if she be not marryed, she being as old as I, I am too young for her, for Husbands should be older than their Wives.

Lord Singularity. But she is one that is well born, well bred, and very rich; and though thou art young in years, yet thou art an aged man in judgment, prudence, understanding, and for wit, as in thy flourishing strength.

Affectionata. Perchance, my Lord, she will not like me, as neither my years, my person, nor my birth.

Lord Singularity. As for thy years, youth is alwayes accepted by the effeminate Sex; and thy person she cannot dislike, for thou art very handsom, and for thy birth, although thou art meanly born, thou hast a noble nature, a sweet disposition, a vertuous soul, and a heroick spirit; Besides, I have adopted thee my Son, and the King hath promised to place my Titles on thee, and hath made thee Heir of my whole Estate, for to maintain thee according to those Dignities.

Affectionata. But I had rather live unmarried, my Lord, if you will give consent.

Lord Singularity. But I will never consent to that, and if you be dutifull to me, you will marry such a one as I shall chose for you.

Affectionata. I shall obey whatsoever you command, for I have nothing but my obedience to return for all your favours.

Lord Singularity. Well, I will go and make a strickt inquiry for this Lady.

Lord Singularity Exit. Affectionata alone.

Affectionata. Hay ho! what will this come to, I would I were in my Grave; for love and fear doth torture my poor life; Heaven strike me dead! or make me this Lords wife.

Exeunt.

Scene 31.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and the Lady Amorous

Lady Amorous. How shall we compass the acquaintance of the Lord Singularity’s Son?

Lady Wagtail. Faith Amorous, thou lovest boys, but I love men; wherefore I would be acquainted with the Lord Singularity himself; Beside, his adopted Son was a poor Beggar-boy ‘tis said, and I cannot love one that is basely born.

Lady Amorous. His birth may be honourably, though poor, and of low and mean descent; for if he was born in honest wedlock, and of honest Parents, his birth cannot be base.

Lady Wagtail. O yes, for those that are not born from Gentry, are like course brown bread, when Gentry of ancient descent, are like flower often boulted to make white mancher.

Lady Amorous. By that rule, surely he came from a Noble and Ancient Race; for I never saw any person more white and finely shap’d in my life than he is; and if fame speaks true, his actions have proved he hath a Gentlemans soul; But say he were meanly born, as being born from a Cottager, yet he is not to be despised nor disliked, nor to be lesse esteemed, or beloved, or to be thought the worse of, for was Lucan lesse esteemed for being a Stone-Cutter, or his wit lesse esteemed; or was King David lesse esteemed or obeyed, for being a Shepheard; or the Apostles lesse esteemed or believed, for being Fisher men, Tent-makers or the like; or the man that was chosen from the Plough, to be made Emperour; I say, was he lesse esteemed for being a Plough-man? No, he was rather admired the more; or was Horace esteemed, or his Poems thought the worse, for being Son to a freed man, which had been a slave; or was Homer lesse admired, or thought the worse Poet, for being a poor blind man; and many hundred that I cannot name, that hath gained fame, and their memories lives with Honour and Admiration in every Age, and in every Nation, Kingdom, Country and Family, and it is more worthy, and those persons ought to have more love and respect, that have merit, than those that have only Dignity, either from favour of Princes, or descended from their Ancestors; for all derived Honours, are poor and mean, in respect of self-creating honour, and they only are to be accounted mean and base, that are so in themselves; but those that are born from low and humble Parents, when they have merits, and have done worthy actions, they are placed higher in fames Court, and hath more honour by fames report, which sounds their praises louder than those of greater descent, although of equal worth and merit, and justly, for it is more praise-worthy, when those that were the lowest, and are as it were trod into the earth, or was born, as the phrase is, from the Dunghill, should raise themselves equal to the highest, who keeps but where they were placed by birth; but many times they keep not their place, but fall from the Dignity of their birth, into the myer of baseness, treachery and treason, when the other rises as the Sun out of a cloud of darknesse, darring forth glorious beams thorough all that Hemisphere.

Lady Wagtail. I perceive by your discourse, Lovers are the best Disputers; Orators, and as I have heard, the best Poets; But I never heard you discourse so well, nor speak so honourably in all my life, wherefore I am confident, ‘twas love spake, not you.

Exeunt.

ACT V.

Scene 32.

Enter Affectionata, Nurse Fondly, and Foster Trusty her Husband.

Nurse Fondly. My child, we can no longer conceal you, for we are accused of murthering you, and are summoned to appear before a Judge and Jury.

Affectionata. For Heaven sake, conceal me as long as you can; for if I be known, I shall be utterly ruined with disgrace.

Nurse Fondly. Whose fault was it? I did advise you otherwise, but you would not be ruled, nor counselled by me; and my Husband like an unwise man, did assist your childish desires.

Foster Trusty. Well wife, setting aside your wisdom, let us advise what is best to be done in this case.

Nurse Fondly. In this case we are either to be hanged, or she is to be disgraced; and for my part, I had rather be hanged, for I am old, and cannot live long.

Foster Trusty. If you were a young wench, thou mightest chance to escape hanging, the Judges would have taken pity on thee, but being old, will condemn thee without mercy.

Nurse Fondly. If I were not a pretty wench, and the Jurie amorous men, at least the Judges so, I should be hanged neverthelesse.

Affectionata. Come, come, Foster Father, and Nurse, let us go and advise.

Exeunt.

Scene 33.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and a Captain.

Lady Wagtail. Pray tell me, what manner of Country is Italy?

Captain. In short, Madam, there is more Summer than Winter, more Fruit than Meat, and more meat than Hospitality.

Lady Wagtail. Why Captain, fruit is meat.

Captain. I mean flesh-meat.

Lady Wagtail. Out upon that Country, that hath neither Flesh nor Hospitality! But Captain, what are the natures, dispositions, and manners of the Italians?

Captain. In general, Madam, thus, their natures, dispositions, and manners are, as generally all other people of every other Nation are, for the generality of every Nation are alike, in natures, dispositions and persons; that is, some are of good, and some are of bad, some handsom, and some ill-favoured; but for the most part, there are more ill-favoured than handsom, more soul than fair, and the general manner of the whole World is, to offer more than present, to promise more than perform, to be more faigning than real, more courtly than friendly, more treacherous than trusty, more covetous than generous, and yet more prodigal than covetous; but as for the Italians, they are more luxurious than gluttonous, and they love pleasures more than Heaven.

Lady Wagtail. They have reason, by my troth; for who can tell whether in Ioves Mansion, there are so many sweet and delightfull pleasures, as in this World: But Captain, you do not tell me what pleasure the women have in Italy?

Captain. Those women that are married, are restrain’d and barr’d from all courtly pleasure, or as I may say, the pleasure of Courtships; but the Courtezans have liberty to please themselves, and to be their own carvers.

Lady Wagtail. And there is nothing I love so well, as to carve both for my self and others.

Captain. And there is no Nation in the World, so curious, and ingenuous in the art of carving, as the Italians.

Lady Wagtail. I am resolved to go into Italy, if it be but to learn the art of carving, but I will leave my Husband behind me; for you say, wives have not that free liberty of carving, and if I leave my Husband, I may pass for a Widow, though not for a Maid.

Captain. But Madam, you are past your travelling years, for the best time for women to travel, is about twenty.

Lady Wagtail. By your favour, Sir, a woman never grows old, if she can but conceal her age, and say she is young.

Captain. But she must often repeat it.

Lady Wagtail. She must so, which she may easily do, talking much, for women wants not words, neither are we sparing of them; But Captain, I must intreat your company, for you are acquainted with the Country, and hath the experience of the humours and natures of that people, and having been a Souldier and a Traveller, will not be to seek in the wayes of our journey.

Captain. I shall wait upon you, Madam.

Lady Wagtail. No Captain, you shall be as Master, to command, and I will be your Servant to obey.

Captain. You shall command me, Madam.

Exeunt.

Scene 34.

Enter Affectionata alone.

O! How my soul is tormented with love, shame, grief and fear (she stops a little) I am in love, but am ashamed to make it known, Besides, I have given the World cause to censure me, not only in concealing of my Sex, and changing of my habit, but being alwaies in the company of Men, acting a masculine part upon the Worlds great Stage, and to the publick view; but could I live thus concealed, I should be happy, and free from censure: But O curst fortune! that pleasure takes in crossing Lovers, and basic time that makes all things as restless as it self, doth strive for to divulge my acts, when I have no defence, or honest means for to conceal them; for if I do oppose, I shall become a Murtherer, and bear a guilty conscience to my grave, which may torment my soul, when as my body is turn’d to dust.
Stops.
But since there is no remedy, i’l weep my sorrows forth, and with the water of my tears, i’l strive to quench the blushing heat, that like quick lightening, flashes in my face.

Enter the Lord Singularity, finding Affectionata Weeping.

Lord Singularity. My dear Affectionata, What makes thee so melancholly, as to be alwaies weeping?

Affectionata. I must confess, my Lord, here of late my eyes have been like Egypt, when it is over-flown with Nilus, and all my thoughts like Crockodiles.

Lord Singularity. What is the cause?

Affectionata. Alas, my Lord, causes lyes so obscure, they are seldom found.

Lord Singularity. But the effects may give us light to judge what causes are.

Affectionata. Effects deceives, and often cozens us, by reason one effect may be produced from many several causes, and several effects proceeds from one cause.

Lord Singularity. But thy tears seems as if they were produced from some passion.

Affectionata. Indeed they are produced from passions and appetites, for passions are the rayes of the mind, and appetites the vapour of the senses, and the rayes of my mind hath drawn up the vapour of my senses into thick moist clouds, which falls in showering tears.

Lord Singularity. Tell me thy griefs, and thy desires, that I may help the one, and ease the other.

Affectionata. Alas, my Lord, I cannot, for they lye in the conceptions; and conceptions ariseth like mysts, and my thoughts like clouds, lyes one above another.

Lord Singularity. Come, come, let reason the Sun of the soul verifie those misty conceptions, and disperse this dull humour, that the mind may be clear, and the thoughts serene.

Affectionata. I will strive to bring in the light of mirth.

Exeunt.

Scene 35.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, the Lady Amorous, and Sir Humphry Bold.

Lady Wagtail. Good Sir Humphry Bold, carry us to the Court of Iudicatures, to hear the great Tryal, which is said to be to day.

Sir Humphry Bold. You would go to hear the condemnation of an old man, and his old wife.

Lady Wagtail. No, we would go to hear the confessions, as whether they have murthered the young Lady that is missing, or not.

Sir Humphry Bold. Why, that you may hear from other relations, as well as from their own mouths, and so save you so much pains and trouble, as you will have to get a place, and to stand so long a time, as the examining, accusing, confessing, freeing, or condemning, which will require so long a time, as Ladies will find great inconveniencies, and be put mightily to it.

Lady Wagtail. But I long to hear and see the manner of it.

Sir Humphry Bold. I will wait upon you, but you will be very much crouded.

Lady Amorous. I had rather see them hanged, if they be guilty, than hear them judged and condemned.

Sir Humphry Bold. Why, a condemning Judge is the chief Hang-man, for he hangs with his word, as the other with a cord.

Lady Wagtail. Will the Lord Singularity be there?

Sir Humphry Bold. Yes certainly, for he is the man that doth accuse them.

Lady Amorous. And will his Son be there?

Sir Humphry Bold. I know not that.

Exeunt.

Scene 36.

_Enter the Iudges and Iury-men, as in a Court of Judicature; the Lord Singularity, Foster Trusty, and Nurse Fondly, and many others to hear them.

Judges. Who accuses these persons of murther?

Lord Singularity. I, my Lord.

Foster Trusty. We beseech your Honours, not to condemn us before you have found us guilty.

Lord Singularity. It is a proof sufficient, my Lord, they cannot clear themselves, or produce the party that was delivered to their trust and care.

Iudges. Jurie, do you find them guilty or not?

Iuries. Guilty, my Lord.

Iudges. Then from the Jurie, we can—.

Enter Affectionata, drest very sine in her own Sexes habit, and stops the Iudges sentence.

Affectionata. Hold, condemn not these innocent persons for their fidelity, constancy and love; I am that maid they are accused to murther, and by good circumstances can prove it.

All the Assembly, Iudges and Iurie, seems as in a maze at her beauty, and slares on her. The Lord Singularity, as soon as he seeth her, starts back, then goeth towards her, his eyes all the time sixt on her; speaking as to himself.

Lord Singularity. Sure it is that face.

He takes her by the Hand, and turns her to the light; are not you my Affectionata, whom I adopted my Son.

Affectionata. Shame stops my breath, and chokes the words I should utter.

Lord Singularity. For Heaven sake speak quickly, release my fears, or crown my joyes.

Affectionata. My Lord, pray pardon loves follies, and condemn not my modesty for dissembling my Sex; for my designs were harmless, as only to follow you as a servant: For by Heaven, my Lord? my only desire was, that my eyes, and my eares might be fed with the sight of your person, and sound of your voice, which made me travel to hear, and to see you: But since I am discovered, I will otherwise conceal my self, and live as an Anchoret from the view of the World.

Lord Singularity. Pray let me live with you.

Affectionata. That may not be, for an Anchoret is to live alone.

Lord Singularity. If you will accept of me for your husband, we shall be as one.

Affectionata. You have declared against marriage, my Lord.

Lord Singularity. I am converted, and shall become so pious a devote, as I shall offer at no Alter but Hymens, and since I am your Convert, refuse me not.

Affectionata. I love too well to refuse you.

He kneels down on one knee, and kisses her hand.

Lord Singularity. Here on my knee I do receive you as a blessing, and a gift from the Gods.

He riseth.

Affectionata. Most Reverend Judges, and Grave Jury, sentence me not with censure, nor condemn me to scandals, for waiting as a Man, and serving as a Page; For though I dissembled in my outward habit and behaviour, yet I was alwaies chaste and modest in my nature.

Exeunt.

Scene 37.

Enter the Lady Wagtail, and Lady Amorous.

Lady Wagtail. Now Lady Amorous, is your mind a Mirtel-grove, and your thoughts Nightingals to entertain the Idea of your Adonas.

Lady Amorous. Her discovery hath proved the boar that kill’d him; but I desire much to be army Adonas Funeral, which is the Lady Orphants wedding.

Lady Wagtail. I am acquainted with some of the Lord Singularity’s Captains and Officers, and I will speak to some of them to speak to the Lord Singularity to invite us.

Lady Amorous. I pray do, for since my Adonas is dead, I will strive to inamour Mars, which is the Lord Singularity himself.

Lady Wagtail. Faith, that is unfriendly done, for I have laid my designs for himself.

Lady Amorous. I fear both of our designs may come to nothing, he is so inamoured with his own She-Page, or female Son.

Exeunt.

Scene 38.

Enter Nurse Fondly, and Foster Trusty.

Nurse Fondly. O Husband! This is the joyfullest day that ever I had in my whole life, except at mine own wedding.

Foster Trusty. Indeed, this day is a day of Iubile.

Nurse Fondly. Of Iuno, say you; but Husband, have you provided good chear, and enough; for here are a world of Guests come, more than was invited, and you being Master Steward, will be thought too blame, if there be any thing wanting.

Foster Trusty. If you be as carefull to dress the Brides Chamber, as I to provide for the bridal Guest, you nor I shall be in a fault.

Nurse Fondly. I saith, if you have done your part, as I have done my part, we shall deserve praise.

Foster Trusty. I saith, we are almost so old, that we are almost past praise.

Nurse Fondly. None can merit praise, but those in years; for all Worthy, Noble and Heroick Acts requires time to do them, and who was ever wise, that was young?

Foster Trusty. And few are praised that are old, for as fame divulgeth merits, so time wears out praise, for time hath more power than fame, striving to destroy what fame desires to keep. The truth is, time is a Glutton, for he doth not only strive to destroy what fame divulgeth, but what himself begets and produceth.

Exeunt.

Scene 39.

Enter the Lord Singularity, and the Lady Orphant, as Bride and Bride-groom, and a company of Bridal-guests. Enter Musitians, and meets them.

Musitioners. We desire your Excellence will give us leave to present you with a Song written by my Lord Marquiss of New-Castle.

Lord Singularity. Your present could have never been less acceptable, by reason it will retard my marriage.

Lady Orphant. Pray, my Lord, hear them.

Lord Singularity. Come, come, dispatch, dispatch.

He seems not to listen to them. All the time his eyes fixt on the Bride.

SONG.

Love in thy younger age,
Thou then turn’d Page;
When love then stronger grew,
The bright sword drew.
Then Love it was thy fate
To advise in State.
My Love adopted me
His childe to be.
Then offered was my hap
A Cardinals Cap.
Loves juglings thus doth make
The Worlds mistake.

Lord Singularity. By Heaven, Musitioners, you are all so dillotarie with your damnable and harsh prologue of tuning before you play, as the next Parliament will make it felony in Fidlers, if not treason, when your Great Royal Eares; begin with a F•• to you.

Musitians. Why, my Noble Lord, we have done.

Lord Singularity. By Heaven, there spake Apollo! Give them ten Pieces.

Musitians. Madam, an Eppilanian! we have more to express our further joy, and then we will pray for blessings on you both.

Lord Singularity. O! It will be my funeral song, you rogues, know all delays doth kill me; and at this time your best Musick sounds harsh, and out of tune.

Lady Orphant. Pray let them sing that one song more; so ends your trouble of them.

Lord Singularity. Begin, quick, quick.

SONG.

O Love, some says thou art a Boy!
But now turn’d Girl, thy Masters joy.
Now cease all thy fierce alarms,
In circles of your loving arms.
Who can express the joys to night,
‘Twil charm your senses with delight,
Nay, all those pleasures you’l controul,
With joyning your each soul to soul.
Thus in Loves raptures live, till you
Melting, dissolv into a dew;
And then your aery journey take,
So both one constellation make.

The Song done, the Musick playes, as the Bride and Bridegroom goeth.

DCP Reading Editions Plain Text Reading Editions of Works Written by Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673)

Playes (1662) - Loves Adventures

Prologue.

ACT I.

Scene I.

Ex.

ACT II.

Scene 6.

Scene 7.

Scene 8.

Scene 9.

Scene 11.

Scene 12.

Ex.

ACT III.

Scene 13.

Scene 14.

Scene 15.

Scene 16:

Ex.

ACT IV.

Scene 17.

Scene 18.

Scene 19.

Scene 20.

Scene 21.

Scene. 22.

Scene 23.

Scene 24.

Scene 25.

Scene 26.

He follows her, Exeunt.

ACT. V.

Scene 27.

Scene. 28.

Scene 29.

Scene 30.

Scene 31.

Scene 32.

Scene 33.

FINIS.

THE SECOND PART OF LOVES ADVENTURES.

EPILOGUE.

THE SECOND PART

ACT I.

Scene 1.

Scene 2.

Scene 3.

Scene. 4.

Scene 5.

Scene. 7.

Scene 8.

Omnes Exeunt.

ACT II.

Scene 9.

Scene. 10.

Scene 11.

Scene 12.

Scene 13.

Scene 14.

Omnes Exeunt.

ACT III.

Scene 15.

Scene 16.

Scene 17.

Scene 18.

Scene 19.

Scene 21.

Scene 22.

Scene 23.

Scene 24.

Scene 25.

Scene 26.

ACT IV.

Scene 27.

Scene 28.

Scene 29.

Scene 30.

Scene 31.

Exeunt.

DCP Reading Editions
Plain Text Reading Editions of Works Written by Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673)