X1v 78

The Comedy named the Several Wits.

The wise Wit, the wild Wit, the cholerick Wit, the
humble Wit.

The Names of the Persons.

Monsieur Generosity.

Monsieur Nobilissimo.

Monsieur Perfection.

Monsieur Importunate.

Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Monsieur Profession.

Monsieur Comorade.

Monsieur Discretion.

Monsieur Compliment.

INTERNAL ERROR. Please report to wwp@neu.edu that cb is unmatched.

Doctor Freedom, a Doctor of Physick.

Madam Mere.

Madamosel Caprisia.

Madamosel Doltche.

Madamosel Solid.

Madamosel Volant.

A Grave Matron.

Madamosel Doltches Nurse.

Two Maid-servants.

Prologue.

This Play I do present to Lady wits,

And hope the wit, each several humour fits;

For though all wit, be wit, as of wit kind,

Yet different be, as men, not of one mind;

For different men, hath different minds we know,

So different Wits, in different humours flow.

The cholerick Wit is rough, and salt as brine,

The humble Wit flows smooth, in a strait line:

A wise Wit flows in streams, fresh, pure and clear,

Where neither weeds, nor troubled waves appear:

But a wild wit in every ditch doth flow,

And with the mudde doth foul, and filthy grow.

The
X2r 79

The Comedy
Named The
Several Wits.

Act I.

Scene 1.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, and her maid.

M aid

Madam, Monsieur Importunate is come to visit
you.

Madam. Caprisia

Did not I tell you, I would receive
no visits to day.

Maid

I did tell him that you desired to be excused;
but he said, he would not excuse you, for he must see
you.

Madam. Capris

Go tell him I have taken Physick.

Maid

I did tell him so, but he said, he would stay untill it had done working.

Madam. Capris

I would it were working in his belly.

Ex.

Scene 2.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

Lady, hearing of your great wit, I am come to prove
report.

Madam. Volante

You will find him a lyer, Sir.

Bon Compaignon

I had rather report should be a lyer, than I a Lover.

Madam. Volante

Why, then we agree in a mind, for I had rather be thought
a fool, than to be troubled with a fools company.

Bon Compaignon

You need not be troubled with that, for love is strongest
absented.

Madam. Volante

O! but there is an old Proverb, that love will break thorough
stone-walls, wherefore if you be in love, you will haunt me like a Fairy,
no locks nor bolts will keep you out, for fairy love will creep thorough a
creavice.

X2 Bon X2v 80

Bon Compaignon

Faith Lady! I find now, that love is the Queen of Fayries,
for it hath crept thorough the key-hole of my eares, and hath got into
my head, and their dances such roundelays, as makes my brain dissie.

Madam. Volante

If once your brain begins to be dissie, your senses will
stagger, and your reason will fall down from its seat, and when the reason is
displaced, and the wit is distemper’d, the mind become mad, and to prevent
the mischief that may follow, I will depart in time.

Ex.

Scene 3.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, as at the door meets Monsieur Importunate,
he stops her passage.

Monsieur Importunate

You shall not pass, untill you have paid me a tribute.

Madam. Caprisia

What Tribute?

Monsieur Importunate

A kiss.

Madam. Capris

I will pay no such tribute, for I will bring such a number of
words armed with such strong reasons, as they shall make my way.

Monsieur Importunate

Your words will prove poor Pilgrims, which come
to offer at the Alter of my lips.

Madam. Capris

Nay, rather than so, they shall come as humble Petitioners,
and as it were, kneeling at your heart, shall with innocency beg for gentle civility.

Monsieur Importunate

I will shut the gates of my ears against them, and
my lips as a bat shall force them back, being a precise factious rout.

Madam. Capris

Satire shall lead my sharp words on, break ope those gates,
and anger like consuming fire shall both destroy your will and base desire.

Monsieur Importunate

I will try that.

Madam. Capris

But I will rather make a safe retreat, than venture, least
your rude strength might overcome my words.

She goeth back, he follows her

Monsieur Importunate

I will march after, at the heels of you.

Ex. Scene
Y1r 81

Scene 4.

Enter Madamosel Doltche, and Monsieur Compliment.

Doltche

Sir, you prayse me so much, as I may doubt, or rather believe
you flatter me; for it is not possible to be so rare a creature, as you express
me to be, unless I were something divine, perchance I may be worthy of
some of your inferiour Prayses, but not all your high and mighty ones.

Monsieur Compliment

You are more than either I can express, or think
you to be.

Mad. Doltche

Nay, if I be above your thoughts, I am above your delight;
for man-kind takes no great pleasure in that they comprehend not.

Mons. Compliment

I believe you do not comprehend how well I love
you.

Mad. Doltche

No truely, for love is like infinite, it hath no circumference,
wherefore I will not trouble my self in loves wayes, since it is an endlesse
journey.

Mons. Compliment

But surely, Lady, though you cannot find that worth in
me, as merits your esteem and affection, yet you will favour me for your Fathers
command, and love me for his desire.

Doltche

If my Father desires me to dye, I shall satisfie his desire, for it
is in my power to take away my own life, when I will; but it is not in my
power to love those my Father would have me; for love is not to be commanded,
nor directed, nor governed, nor prescribed, for love is free, and not
to be controuled; Also I may marry a man my Father desires me, but sure
my Father will not desire, nor command me to marry, if I cannot love the
man he would have me marry, as I ought to do a Husband.

Ex.

Scene 5.

Enter Madam. Caprisia, and a Grave Matron.

Matron

Madamosel Caprisia, there is a Gentleman, one of my acquaintance
doth desire to see you.

Madam. Capris

He desires more than I do, for I never see a man, but I
wish a vail before my sight, or one before his.

Matron

Have you taken a surfeit of eyes, as you hate to look on a mans
face.

Madam. Capris

Yes, of wanton eyes, that skips from face to face, which
makes me love the blind.

Matron

I wonder whether the soul may be satisfied, or surfeit as the senses
do.

Capris

The thoughts, passions and appetites, which are begot betwixt
the soul and senses, will surfeit, if they be over-fed.

Y Enter Y1v 82 Enter Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

What is that Lady that is over-fed?

Capris

A fools-head.

Bon Compaignon

How can a fools head be over-fed?

Capris

With hearing and seeing more than it can digest into understanding.

Bon Compaignon

You have not such a head, Lady, for your head is so full of
wit, as it perpetually flows thorough your lips; yet whatsoever it doth receive,
the Son of reason doth digest, and refines into spirits of senses.

Capris

I must confess, my tongue is more fertil than my brain, the which
comes more words from the one, than sense or reason from the other; but
least I should over-fill your ears with my idle talks, I will leave you.

Ex.

Bon Compaignon

And I will follow you, for my ears are unsatisfied, having
but a taste of her wit, which makes a greater appetite.

Bon Compaignon, and Matron Ex.

Scene 6.

Enter Madamosel Solid, Monsieur Profession, and Monsieur Comorade
his friend.

Monsieur Profession

Lady, you live, as if you lived not, living so solitary
a life.

Lady Solid

Indeed, few doth live as they should, that is, to live within
themselves; for the soul, which is the supream part of the life, is never at
home, but goeth wandering about, from place to place, from person to person,
and so from one thing to another, and not only the soul wanders thus,
but all the Family of the soul, as the thoughts and passions; for should any
thing knock at the gates of the soul, which are the senses, or enter the chambers
of the soul, which is the heart, and the head, they would find them
empty, for the thoughts and passions, which passions are of the Bed-chamber,
which is, the heart and Presence-chamber, which is, the head wherein
they ought to wait, are for the most part, all gone abroad; as for the
thoughts, they are gone to inquire news, walking and running into every Village,
Town, City, and Country, and Kingdom, all to inquire what such and
such persons said or acted, and the particular affairs of every particular person,
and every particular Family, as whether they increase with riches, or
decay with poverty; whether they live beyond their means, or keep within
their compasse; what men and women are in love, who are constant, and
who are false; what contracts are signed, or what contracts are broken;
who marries, and who lives single lives; who is happy in marriage, and who
is not; what children is born, who hath children, and who hath none; who
is handsome, and who is ill-favoured; who dyes, and of what diseases they
died of: whether they left wealth or were poor, or who were their Heirs, or Y2r 83
or Executors; who are Widowers, Widows or Orphants; who hath losses,
crosses and misfortunes, who is in favour or disgrace with such Princes or
States; who is at Law, what suits there is lost or gained; what bribes were
given and taken, who was arrested, or imprisoned for debts; or set in the
Pillary or Stocks for disorder, or cast into the Counter for misdemeanour;
who is accused or imprisoned for Robbery, Murther or Treason; who is condemned
or reprieved; what deaths they died, or torments indur’d; what
Laws there is made, repeald or broke; what Officers or Magistrates there
are made, plac’d or displac’d, or put out; what factions or bruleries there
is, what leagues and associates there is made betwixt States and Princes; what
Wars, or Peace there is, or like to be betwixt such or such Kingdoms; what
triumphs, or shews there is, or like to be; what Mountebanks, Tumblers,
and Dancers there is; what strange Birds, Beasts or Monsters there is to be
seen; what Drunkards, Bawds and Whores there is, what Duels hath been
fought, and the cause of their quarrels; who hath lost at play, and who hath
won; what new fashions there is; what Stuffs, Silks, Laces, and Imbroideries
there is; what Lords, Ladyes, Knights or Esquires hath new Coaches or Liveries;
what rich cloths they had, or have; what Church is most frequented, what
Balls, Masks, Plays & Feasts there is, or like to be, and many the like vain, idle,
unusefull, unprofitable inquiries, observations and entertainments; their
thoughts imployes and wasts their time with: as for the passions and affections,
they are as much abroad, as the rest of the thoughts, some being with
such and such men, or such and such women, as first with one, and then
with another; or with such a house, or houses, or lands, or wwith such Jewels,
or Plate, or Hangings, or Pictures, or the like; also the passions and affections
wanders amongst Beasts, as with such a Horse, Dog, Monkey, or
the like; or with Birds, as with such a Hawk, Cock of the Game, or prating
Parrot, or singing Linet, or the like; or the passions and affections are
attending, watching, or seeking after such or such Offices or Commands,
Governments or Titles; nay, the very soul it self goeth after such and such
designes, so as it doth, as it were, run away from it self, it follows the World,
and worldly things, but never draws any benefit to it self, but that soul that
keeps at home, which very few souls doth; imployes it self, for it self, it only
views the World for knowledge, yet so, as it looks, as out of a window
on a prospect, it uses the World out of necessity, but not serves the World
out of slavery; it is industrious for its own tranquility, fame and everlasting
life, for which it leaves nothing unsought, or undone, is a wise soul.

Monsieur Profession

Madam, my soul is tyed to your soul, with such an undissoulable
knot of affection, that nothing, no, not death can lose it, nor break
it asunder; wherefore, wheresoever your soul doth go, mine will follow it,
and bear it company.

Madam. Solid

Then your soul will be incognita, for my soul will not
know whether your soul be with it, or not.

Ex.

Monsieur Comorade

Faith Thom. its happy for thy soul, to be drawn by her
magnetick soul; for that may draw, lead or direct thy soul to Heaven;
otherwise thy soul will fall into Hell with the pressure of thy sins, for thy
soul is as heavy, as crimes can make it.

Mons. Prof

Why, then the divel would have found my soul an honest soul,
in being full weight, his true coyn, & the right stamp of his Picture, or Figure, Y2 for Y2v 84
for which he would have used my soul well, and if Heaven gives me not
this, Lady, Hell take me.

Monsieur Comorade

Certainly you may be the Divels guest, but whether
you will be the Ladys Husband, it is to be doubted.

Mons. Profession

Well, I will do my endeavour to get her, and more, a
man cannot do.

Ex.

Scene 7.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, and Monsieur Importunate.

Monsieur Importunate

You are the rarest beauty, and greatest wit in the
World.

Mad. Capris

Wit is like beauty, and beauty is oftener created in the fancie,
than the face; so wit oftener by opinion, than in the brain, not, but surely
there may be a real beauty, and so a real wit, yet that real wit, is no wit to
the ignorant, no more than beauty to the blind, for the wit is lost to the understanding,
as beauty is lost to the eyes, and it is not in nature to give, what
is not in nature to receive, nor in nature to shew what is not in nature to be
seen; so there must be eyes to see beauty, and eares to hear wit, and understanding
to judge of both, and you have neither judgments eyes, nor understandings
ears, nor rational sense.

Monsieur Importunate

Why, then you have neither beauty nor wit.

Mad. Capris

I have both, but your commendations are from report; for
fools speaks by rote, as Parrots do.

Ex. Monsieur Importunate solus.

Monsieur Importunate

She is like a Bee loaded with sweet honey, but her
tongue is the sting, that blisters all it strikes on.

Ex.

Scene 8.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

Lady, why are you so silent.

Madam Volante

Why should I speak to those that understands me not.

Bon Compaignon

Why? are you so difficult to be understood.

Mad. Volante

No, but understanding is so difficult to find.

Bon Compaignon

So, and since there is such a total decay of understanding
in every brain, as there is none to be found, but in your own, you will make
a new Common-wealth in yours, where your thoughts, as wise Magistrates,
and good Citizens, shall govern and traffick therein, and your words shall be
as Letters of Mart, and your senses shall be as legate Embassadors that lives
in other Kingdoms, which takes instructions, and give intelligence, or rather
your thoughts are destinies, and fates, and your words their several decrees.

Mad. Volante

Do you think my thoughts can warrant Laws, or can my
words decree them?

Bon Z1r 85

Bon Compaignon

I believe your thoughts are so wise and just, that whatsoever
they allow of, must be best, and your words are so witty, rational, positive
and powerfull, as none can contradict them.

Mad. Volante

Good Sir, contradict your self, or Truth will contradict
you.

Bon Compaignon

Nay faith, I will never take the pains to contradict my
self; let Truth do what she will.

Ex.

Act II.

Scene 9.

Enter Madam la Mere, and her daughter Madamosel Caprisia.

Madam Mere

Daughter, did you entertain the Lady Visit civilly?

Mad. Capris

Yes Mother, extraordinary civilly, for I gave her leave
to entertain herself with her own discourse.

Mad. Mere

That was rudely.

Mad. Capris

O no, for certainly it is the height of courtship to our sex, to
let them talk all the talk themselves; for all women takes more delight to
discourse themselves, than to hear another; and they are extreamly pleased,
if any listens, or at least seems to listen to them, For the truth is, that talking
is one of the most luxurious appetites women have; wherefore I could
not be more civiller, than to bar and restrain the effeminate nature in my
self, to give her tongue liberty.

Madam. Mere

But you should have spoken a word now, and then, as
giving her civilly some breathing rest for her discourse to lean upon.

Mad. Capris

Her speech was so strong, and long-winded, as it run with a
full speed, without stop or stay, it neither need spurre nor whip; the truth
is it had been well, if it had been held in with the bridle of moderation, for it
ran quite beyond the bounds of discretion, although sometimes it ran upon
the uneven wayes of slander, other times upon the stony ground of censure,
and sometimes in the foul wayes of immodesty, and often upon the furrows
of non-sense; besides, it did usually skip over the hedges of Truth; and
certainly, if the necessities of nature, and the separations of Neigh-bourhood,
and the changes and inter-course of, and in the affairs of the World,
and men did not forcibly stop, sometimes a womans tongue, it would run as
far as the confines of death.

Mad. Mere

But let me tell you Daughter, your tongue is as sharp, as a
Serpents sting, and will wound as cruelly and deadly where it bites.

Capris

It proves my tongue a womans tongue.

Mad. Mere

Why should a womans tongue have the effects of a Serpents
sting.

Capris

The reason is evident, for the great Serpent that tempted, and so
perverted our Grandmother Eve in Paradise, had a monstrous sting, and our
Grandmother whetted her tongue with his sting, and ever since, all her effeminate
rase hath tongues that stings.

Ex.
Z Scene. Z1v 86

Scene 10

Enter Madamosel Doltche, and Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

Lady, Monsieur Nobilissimo is so in love with you, as he
cannot be happy, untill you be his wife.

Doltche

I wonder he should be in love with me, since I have neither beauty
to allure him, nor so much riches, as to intice him, nor wit to perswade
him to marry me.

Bon Compaignon

But Lady, you have vertue, good nature, sweet disposition,
gracefull behaviour, which are sufficient Subjects for love to settle on,
did you want what you mentioned, but you have all, not only what any man
can wish or desire with a wife, but you have as much as you can wish and
desire to have your self.

Doltche

I will rather be so vain, as to strive to believe you, than rudely to
contradict you.

Bon Compaignon

It is neither erroneous, nor vain to believe a truth, Lady.

Doltche

Nor civil to make a doubt, Sir; but I am obliged unto you for
that, you help to cover my defects, and wants in nature, with your civil commendation,
and your kind estimation of me.

Ex.

Scene 11.

Enter Monsieur Importunate, and Madamosel Caprisia.

Importunate

My fair wit, you look as if you were angry with me.

Capris

You dwell not so long in my mind, as to make me angry, my
thoughts are strangers to your figures.

She offers to go away, and he holds her from going.

Importunate

Nay faith, now I have you, I will keep you perforce, untill
you pay me the kiss you owe me.

Capris

Let me go, for I had rather my eyes were eternally seal’d up, my
ears for ever stopt close from sound, than hear or see you.

Importunate

I care not whether you hear, or see me, so you will kisse me.

Capris

Let me go, or otherwise my lips shall curse you, and my words being
whetted with injurie, are become so sharp, as they will wound you.

Importunate

I will keep you untill your words begs for mercy in the most
humblest stile, and after the most mollifying manner.

Capris

Hell take you, or Earth devoure you like a beast, never to
rise.

Importunate

Love strike your heart with shooting thorough your eyes.

Capris Z2r 87

Capris

May you be blown up with pride, untill you burst into madnesse,
may your thoughts be more troubled than rough waters, more raging than a
tempest; may your senses feel no pleasure, your body find no rest, nor your
life any peace.

Importunate

May you love me with a doting affection, may I be the only
man you will imbrace, and may you think me to be as handsome as Narcissus
did himself.

Capris

You appear to me in all the horrid shapes that fancy can invent.

Enter Madam Mere.

Madam Mere

Why, how now daughter, alwayes quarreling.

Capris

Can you blame me, when I am beset with rudeness, and assaulted
with uncivil actions.

Madam Mere

Let her alone, Monsieur Importunate, for she is a very Shrew.

Importunate

Well, go thy wayes, for all the Shrews that ever nature made,
you are the cursest one.

Ex.

Scene 12.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and a Grave Matron.

Volante

I am not of the humour; as most women are, which is, to
please themselves with thinking, or rather believing, that all men that
looks on them, are in love with them: But I take pleasure, that all men that
I look on, should think I am in love with them; which men will soon believe,
being as self-conceited as women are.

Matron

But where is the pleasure, Lady.

Volante

Why, in seeing their phantastical garbs, their strutting postures,
their smiling faces, and the jackanapesly actions, and then I laugh in my mind,
to think what fools they are, so as I make my self merry at their folly, and
not at my own.

Matron

But men will appear as much Jackanapeses, when they are in love
with you, as if they thought you were in love with them, for all Lovers are
apish, more or less.

Volante

I grant all Lovers are, but those that think themselves beloved, appears
more like the grave Babboon, than the skipping Jackanapes; for though
their actions are as ridiculous, yet they are with more formality, as being
more circumspectly foolish, or self-conceitedly vain.

Matron

Well, for all your derisions and gesting at men, I shall see you
at one time or other, shot with Cupids arrow.

Volante

By deaths dart, you may; but never by loves arrow; for death
hath power on me, though love hath none.

Matron

There is an old saying, that time, importunity and opportunity,
wins the chastest She, when those are joyned with wealth and dignity; but Z2 to Z2v 88
to yield to a lawfull love, neither requires much time, nor pleading, if the Suiters
have but Person, Title and Wealth, which women for the most part do
prize, before valour, wisdom or honesty.

Volante

Women hath reason to prefer certainties before uncertainties; for
mens Persons, Titles and Wealths, are visible to their view and knowledge,
but their Valours, Wisdoms and Honesties, doth rest upon Faith; for a
coward may fight, and a fool may speak rationally, and act prudently sometimes,
and a knave may appear an honest man.

Matrons

They may so, but a valiant man, will never act the part of a coward;
nor a wise man prove a fool, nor an honest man appear a knave.

Volante

There can be no proof of any mans Valour, Wisdom or Honesty;
but at the day of his death, in aged years, when as he hath past the
danger in Wars, the tryals in Miseries, the malice of Fortune, the temptations
of Pleasures, the inticements of Vice, the heights of Glory, the changes
of Life, provokers of Passion, deluders of Senses, torments of Pain, or
painfull Torments, and to chose a Husband that hath had the Tryals, and experiences
of all these, is to chose a Husband out of the Grave, and rather
than I will marry death, I will live a maid, as long as I live, and when I dye,
let death do what he will with me.

Ex.

Scene 13.

Enter Monsieur Profession in mourning; then enters his Friend,
Monsieur Comorade.

Monsieur Comorade

Well met, I have travelled thorough all the Town,
and have inquired of every one I could speak to, and could neither
hear of thee, nor see thee.

Profession

It were happy for me, if I had neither ears nor eyes.

Comorade

Why, what is the matter, man?

He observes his mourning,
and then starts.

Gods-me! Now I perceive thou art in mourning: which
of thy Friends is dead?

Profession

The chiefest friend I had, which mwas my heart; For that is
dead, being kill’d with my Mistress cruelty, and buryed in her inconstancy.

Comorade

I dare swear, not the whole heart; for every mans heart, is
like a head of Garlick, which may be divided into many several cloves:
Wherefore, cheer up, man; for it is but one clove, that death, or love, hath
swallowed down into his Stomach, to cure him of the wind-cholick; and
since thy heart hath so many cloves, thou mayst well spare him one, and be
never the worse; But if it be buryed, as you say, in your Mistrisses inconstancy;
it is to be hop’d it will be converted into the same inconstant humour,
and that will cure the other part of thy heart.

Pro- Aa1r 89

Profession

O! She was the Saint of my thoughts, and the Goddesse of
my soul.

Comorade

Prethee let me be thy moral Tutor, to instruct thee in the knowledge
of Truth, and to let thee know, that vertue is the true Goddesse, to
which all men ought to bow to; and that youth, beauty and wealth, are fixt
to be forsaken, when vertue comes in place; and vertue is constant, both to
its principals and promises; Wherefore, if thy Mistresse be inconstant, she
cannot be vertuous, wherefore let her go.

Monsieur Profession fetches a great sigh, and goes
out without speaking a word.
Comorade alone.

Comorade

I think his heart is dead in good earnest; for it hath no sense of
what I have said.

Ex.

Scene 14.

Enter Madamosel Mere, and her Daughter Madamosel Caprisia.

M ere

Daughter, you have a sufficiency of wit and beauty, to get
many Lovers to chose a Husband, if you had but patience to entertain,
and prudence to keep them; But your being crosse, will lose your Lovers,
as soon as your beauty hath taken them.

Capris

It is no prize for a woman to have such Lovers, that hath amorous
natures; for it is their nature that drives them to her, and not the womans
beauty or wit, that draws them to her; and there is less force required to
drive, than to draw; but the truth is, that most men hath such threed-bare
souls, as if the nap of their understanding were worn of; or indeed, their
souls seems, as if there were never any woven thereon, as that nature hath
made all their souls, thin and course, or as if time had Moath-eaten them;
which makes me, although not to hate you, yet to despise that Sex; for men
that should imitate the Gods, yet are they worse than Beasts, which makes
me shun their beastly company.

Mere

Daughter, you speak and judge passionately, and passion can never
reason well; for how is it possible, for reason to exercise its function, when
passion opposes, and is too strong for it.

Capris

Truth may be delivered in passion, but not corrupted with passion;
for truth is truth, howsoever it be divulged, or else it is no truth, but falsehood.

Ex.
Aa Scene Aa1v 90

Scene 1415.

Enter Monsieur Perfection, and Madamosel Solid, drest very fine.

Perfection

You are wondrous fine, to day, Madam.

Solid

If I seem fine, to day, I am obliged more to my fancie, than
my wealth, for this finerie.

Perfection

The truth is, you are so adjousted, so curiously accoutred, as I
perceive, judgement and wit were joyned associates in your dressing.

Solid

I had rather be commended, or applauded for judgement and wit,
than for wealth and beauty; for I had rather have my soul commended, than
my person, or fortunes.

Perfection

Certainly, I believe you have a more rational soul, than any
other of your Sex have.

Solid

Alas? My soul is but a young soul, a meer Novice soul, it wants
growth, or my soul is like a house, which time the architectour hath newly
begun to build; and the senses, which are the Labourers, wants information
and experience, which are the materials for the rational soul to be built on,
or with; but such materials as hath been brought in, I strive and endeavour
to make the best, and most convenient use for a happy life.

Perfection

How say you? the best use for a good Wife!

Solid

No, that little reason I have, tells me, to be a Wife, is to be unhappy,
for content seldom in marriage dwells, disturbance keeps possession.

Perfection

If you disprayse marriage, you will destroy my hopes, and
frustrate my honest design.

Solid

Why? what is your design?

Perfection

To be a Suiter to you.

Solid

And what is your hopes?

Perfection

To be your Husband.

Solid

If I thought marriage were necessary, although unhappy, yet there
would be required more wit and judgement in chosing a Husband than in
dressing my self; wherefore it were requisite, that some of more wit and
judgement than my self, should chose for me, otherwise I may be betray’d
by flattery, outward garb, insinuations or false-hood, and through an unexperienced
innocency, I may take words and shews, for worth and merit, which
I pray the Gods I may not do; for to marry an unworthy man, were to me
to be at the height of affliction, and marriage being unhappy in it self, needs
no addition to make it worse.

Perfection

Madam? Discretion forbids me to commend my self, although
I am a Lover; For had I merits worthy great praises, it were unfit I should
mention them; but there is not any man or woman, that is, or can be exactly
known, either by themselves or others; for nature is obscure, she never
divulges herself, neither to any creature, nor by, or through any creature;
for she hides herself under infinite varieties, changes and chances; She disguises
herself with antick Vizards, she appears sometimes old, sometimes
young, sometimes vaded and withered, sometimes green and flourishing,
sometimes feeble and weak, sometimes strong and lusty, sometimes deformed,
and sometimes beautifull; sometimes she appears with horrour, sometimes
with delight, sometimes she appears in glimsing lights of knowledge, then Aa2r 91
then clouds herself with ignorance. But, Madam, since we are as ignorant of
our souls, as of our fortunes, and as ignorant of ouur lives, as of our deaths;
we cannot make any choice upon certainties, but upon uncertainties, and if
we be good whilst we live, our deaths will be our witnesse to prove it; in the
mean time, let our promises stand bound for us, which is the best ingagement
we can give; although it may fail; and let our marriage be as the Bond of
agreement, although we may forfeit the same, yet let us make it as sure as
we can.

Solid

I will consider it, and then I will answer your request.

Perfection

That is, to yield.

Solid

It is like enough.

Ex.

Scene 16.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, and Monsieur Importunate.

Importunate

My fair Shrew, are you walking alone.

Caprisia

My thoughts are my best Companions.

Importunate

Pray, let a thought of me be one of the company.

Capris

When you enter into my mind, you do appear so mean, as my
nobler thoughts, scorns that thought that bears your figure.

Importunate

Thoughts are as notes, and the tongue is the Fiddle that
makes the musick; but your words, as the cords, are out of tune.

Capris

You say so, by reason they are not set to your humour, to sound
your prayse.

Importunate

I say you are very handsome, nature hath given you a surpassing
beauty, but pride and self-conceit, hath cast such a shadow, as it hath
darkened it, as vaporous clowds doth the bright Sun.

Capris

Your opinions are clowdy, and your tongue like thunder, strikes
my ears with rude, uncivil words.

Ex. He alone.

Importunate

I perceive humility, dwels not with beauty, nor wit; but is,
as great a stranger, as with Riches and Titles.

Ex.
Aa2 Scene Aa2v 92

Scene 17.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and Monsieur Discretion.

Discretion

Madam, the fame of your wit, drew me hither.

Volante

I am sorry my wit hath a greater fame than my worth, that
my vain words should spread further than my vertuous actions, for noble
fame is built on worthy deeds.

Discretion

But it were pity you should bury your wit in silence; Besides,
your discourse may profit the hearers, either with delight or instructions.

Volante

O no, for discourses pleases according to the humour, or understanding
of the hearers; Besides, it is the nature of mankind, to think each
other fools, and none but themselves wise; Then why should I wast my
life to no purpose, knowing times motion swift.

Discretion

You do not wast your life through your words, if your words
gets you a fame, and esteem of the World.

Volante

What shall I be the better, in having the Worlds esteem, nay,
it is likely that prayses (whilst I live) may do me harm, creating vain and
false opinions in my imaginations of self-conceit, of being wiser, or wittier,
than really I am; which opinions may make me commit errors, and I had
rather the World should laugh at me, for want of wit, than scorn me for
my follies.

Discretion

But if witty discourses, will get you an esteem, what will your
wise actions, and vertuous life; and prayse is the reward to all noble endeavours;
beside, prayse is no burthen, but it often serves as a ballance, to
make the life swim steady in Sea-faring World: But yet, Lady, I would
not have your wit out-run your prayse, which it will do, if you spur it too
hard, for wit must be used like a strong spirited horse, it must be resttraind
with a bridle, not prick’d with the spur, least it should run away, and fling
the Rider, which is, the Speaker, into a ditch of disgrace; neither must it
run wildly about, but must be wrought, to obey the hand and heel, which
is, time and occasion, to stop, and to change, as when to speak, and to whom
to speak, and on what to speak, and when to make a stop of silence, otherwise,
it will run out of the smooth paths of civility, or the clean wayes of
modesty: Besides, wit must not only be taught, to amble in rhime, and to
trot in prose, but to have a sure footing of sense, and a setled head of reason,
least it should stumble in disputes, or fall into impertinent discourses; likewise,
wit may be taught to go in aires of fancies, or low, upon the ground
of proof.

Volante

But Sir, you must consider, that women are no good managers
of wit, for they spoyl all their tongue rides on, hackneys it out, untill it becomes
a dull jade.

Discretion

Least I should give an ill example of tyreing in our allegorical
discourse, I shall kiss your hands, and take my leave for this time.

Ex. Mada- Bb1r 9793 Madamosel alone. She fetches a great
sigh.

Volante

Monsieur Discretion is a handsom man, he hath a wise countenance,
and a manly garb; his discourse is rational and witty, sober and discreet:
But good Lord! how foolishly I talk to him? I never spake duller,
nor so senselesly, since I was taught words, and he came purposely, as he told
me, to hear me speak, and prove my wit; But it was a sign he heard none,
for he grew soon a weary of my company, he staid so short a time: I am
troubled often with prating fools, whose visits are as tedious, as their discourses:
But Lord! why do I condemn others, as fools, when this Gentleman,
Monsieur Discretion, hath proved me one.

Ex.

Act III.

Scene 18.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, and Monsieur Importunate.

Importunate

What? musing by your self, alone! May I question your
thoughts?

Capris

If you do, you will not be resolved, for there is none at home, to
give you an answer.

Importunate

Why, where are they? wandring abroad?

Capris

They like a brood of Birds, are flown out of their Neasts; for
thoughts flies with swifter speed, than time can do, having large wings, of
quick desire.

Importunate

Faith, you are a great wit!

Capris

You are a great trouble!

She offers to go forth, He stayes her; She is angry.

Capris

What, you will not force me to stay against my will?

Importunate

Yes, that I will; for your Father saith, you shall be my
Wife, and then you will imbrace, and kiss me, as coy as you are now.

Capris

Which if I do, I wish my arms, when they do wind about your
waste, may sting as Serpents, and that my kisses may prove poyson to your
lips.

Importunate

What, are you seriously angry; Nay, then ’tis time to leave
you.

Ex. The Lady alone.

Capris

I have heard, that gallant men are civil to our Sex, but I have met
with none, but rough, rude, rugged natures, more cruel than wild Tygars.

Bb Enter Bb1v 9894 Enter Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

Why do you complain of our Sex, Lady? what is it you
would have?

Capris

I would have a gray-headed wisdom, a middle-aged humour, a
fresh mouthed wit, a new bloom’d youth, and a beauty that every one fancies.

Bon Compaignon

Why, so you have.

Capris

Then I have what I desire.

She goes out.

Bon Compaignon

O! She hath a sharp wit, it is vitral wit.

Ex.

Scene 19.

Enter Madamosel Solid, and Monsieur Comorade.

Comorade

Lady, you have kill’d a Gentleman.

Solid

Who, I! why I never had the courage to kill a fly.

Comorade

You have kill’d him with your disdain.

Solid

I am sorry he had so weak a life, as so slight a cause, as a womans
disdain, could destroy it; but for my part, I disdain no man, although I cannot
intimately love all men.

Comorade

He is but one man, Lady.

Solid

And I have but one particular love to give, or rather I may say, to
be gain’d, for I cannot dispose of it; for it will be only disposed by it self,
without my leave, so as I must be guided by that which will not be guided
by me? I can lend my pity, but not give him my love.

Comorade

I suppose you have given him some encouragement, and hopes,
if not an assurance, by reason, he sayes, you have forsaken him.

Solid

Not unless common civility, be an encouragement, and ordinary
conversation gives hopes; as for an assurance, indeed I gave Monsieur Profession;
For I did assure him, I could not love him, as he would have me
love him, as Husband. But, O vain man! to brag of that he never
had.

Comorade

’Tis no brag, Lady, to confess he is forsaken.

Solid

It is a brag, for in that he implyes, he hath been beloved, for the
one must be, before the other.

Comorade

Pray Madam, let me perswade you, to entertain his love, he is
a Gentleman who hath worth, person and wealth, all which he offers you,
as to his Godesse, and a good offer is not to be refused, Lady, when it may
lawfully be taken.

Solid

You say true, Sir, and could I perswade my love, as easily as you
can commend the man, ’tis likely I should not refuse him.

Comorade

But you will be thought cruel, to let a Gentleman dye, for want
of your love.

Solid

Why, put the case I have other Lovers, as passionate, and worthy
as he; how would you have me divide my self amongst them? Or can you tell Bb2r 9995
tell me how to please them; I cannot marry them all, the Laws forbids it,
and to be the common Mistresse to them, all honour, and honesty forbids it;
for though there is some excuse for men, who hath by custom their liberty
in amours, because their amours obstructs not nature, so makes no breach of
honesty; but women are not only barr’d by nature, but custom of subjection,
and modesty of education; wherefore, if they should take liberty to several
Lovers, or loves courtships, they would not only dishonour themselves,
and their whole Sex, and their living friends; but their dishonour would outreach
their Posterity and run back to their Fore-fathers, that were dead long,
long before they were born; for their unchaste lives, would be as marks of
disgrace, and spots of infamie upon the Tombs of those dead Ancestors, and
their ashes would be sull’d with their stains, whereas, a chast woman, and
a gallant man, obliges both the living, and the dead; for they give honour
to their dead Ancestors in their Graves, and to those friends that are living in
the World, and to those that shall succeed them; Besides, their examples
of their vertues, for all Ages to take out patterns from.

Comorade

Madam, you have answered so well, for your self, and Sex, as
I can say no more in the behalf of my friend.

Ex.

Scene 20.

Enter Madam la Mere, and Madamosel Caprisia her daughter.

Mere

Daughter, your tongue is so sharp, as it is not only poynted, but
edged on both sides.

Capris

Use, Mother, will blunt the poynt, and flat the edges.

Mere

No, Daughter, the more ’tis used, the sharper it will be, for
words and passions, are the whetstones to that Razor.

Capris

As long as that Razor shaves no reputation, let it raze, or shave,
what it will.

Ex.

Scene 21.

Enter Madamosel Solid, Madamosel Doltche, Madamosel Volante,
and a Grave Matron.

Matron

Madamosel Solid, what say you to Monsieur Ralleries wit?

Solid

I say of him, as I would of a wild or skittish jade, who hath
only strength to kick and fling, but not to travel, or to bear any weight; so
Rallerie, is antick postures, and laughing reproaches, not solid and judicious
discourses, or continued speeches, the truth is, a ralleying wit, is like obstructed,
or corrupted lungs, which causes difficult, and short breathing; So
that wit, is short and puffing, spurting out words, questions and replyes; ’tis
squib wit, or boys sport

Bb2 Matron. Bb2v 10096

Matron

Madamosel Doltche, what say you of Monsieur Satericals wit?

Doltche

As I would of frosty weather; his wit is sharp, but wholesome,
and though he hath a frowning brow, yet he hath a clear soul.

Matron

Madamosel Volante, What say you of Monsieur Pendants
wit.

Volante

As I would of Leeches; for as Leeches sucks bloud from the
back parts of men, and spues it forth, when rubb’d with salt; so Monsieur
Pendant
sucks wit from other mens pens, and mouths, and then spues it forth
again; being rubb’d with the itch of prayse; But all the learned knows, the
wit was no more his own, than the bloud that was suck’d, was the Leeches.

Matron

What say you of Monsieur Lyricks wit?

Volante

As I would of a Bird, that chirps more than sings.

Matron

Madamosel Doltche, What say you of Monsieur Tragedians wit?

Doltche

As I would of Winter, wherein is more rain than Sun-shines,
more storms than calms, more night than day; so his wit, hath more melancholly
than mirth, causing, or producing tears, sighs and sadnesse; the truth
is, his wit dwels in the shades of death.

Matron

Madamosel Solid, what say you to Monsieur Comicals wit?

Solid

As I would of the Spring, which revives, and refreshes the life of
every thing, it is lightsom and gay; So Monsieur Comicals wit is chearfull,
pleasant, lively, natural and profitable, as being edifying.

Ex.

Scene 22.

Enter Madam la Mere, and Madamosel Caprisia, her Daughter.

M ere

Daughter, let me tell you, you have brought your Hogs to a
fair Market.

Capris

That is better, than to keep them in a foul stye, Mother.

Mere

You cannot speak without crossing.

Capris

Nor readily crosse without speaking.

Mere

I am sure, your bitter discourses, and crosse answers, hath caused
the Lady, namely, the Lady Hercules, to send a rayling message, by a Messenger,
to declare her anger for your abusive discourses against her.

Capris

I never mentioned her in my discourse, in my life.

Mere

But you speak against big, and tall women.

Capris

I gave but my opinion of the size, and Sex, not of any particular,
and I may speak freely, my opinion of the generalities.

Mere

You may chance, by your opinion of the generalities, to be generally
talk’d of.

Capris

Why, then I shall live in discourse, although discourse were dead
in me, and who had not rather live, although an ill life, than dye?

Mere

But you might live so, as to gain every bodyes good opinion, if you
would palliate your humour, and sweeten your discourse, and endeavour to
please in conversation.

Capris Cc1r 10197

Capris

Which do you mean, Mother! either to please my self, or the
company?

Mere

Why, the company.

Capris

That is impossible, for in all company, there is diversities, and
contrarieties of humours, passions, appetites, delights, pleasures, opinions,
judgements, wits, understandings, and the like, and for talking, speaking and
discoursing, they are inter-changing, inter-mixing, reasoning, arguing, disputing,
which causes contradictions, wherefore to agree in, and to every humour,
passion, opinion, and discourse, is impossible; indeed one may seemly,
or truly agree, and approve of any one opinion or discourse; but not
a diversity of discourses, opinions; also one may flatteringly applaud, or
sooth any particular persons humour, but not diverse persons, diverse humours,
but to flatter, is base, as to approve in their words, and disapprove in
their thoughts, as to commend, or applaud that, or those, that is not praiseworthy:
But howsoever, for the soothing of any bodies humour, I will never
take the pains, for why should I make my self a slave to the several humours
of mankind, who is never in one humour two minutes, and why may
not I think, or desire to be flattered, and humoured, as well as others, and
when I am not flattered, and humoured, to be as much displeased at others,
as others at me: Wherefore, good Mother, be not you displeased, that I
chose rather to displease my self, than any body else, besides your self.

Mere

You will follow your own wayes, Daughter.

Capris

I cannot walk safer, than in my own ground, Mother.

Ex.

Scene 23.

Enter Monsieur Perfection, and Madamosel Solid.

SP oe lidrfection

Dear Mistress, I fear my absence hath made you forget me.

Solid

No certainly, I cannot forget you, by reason my brain is hung
about with the memory of your worthy nature, and meritorious actions,
which my love doth admire, and takes delight for to view each several piece
and part.

Perfection

Do you love me?

Solid

How can I chose but love, when in my infancy, such a number of
words, in your praise, was thrown into my ears, like seeds into the Earth,
which took root in my heart, from which love sprouted forth, and grew up
with my years.

Perfection

And will you be constant?

Solid

As day is to the Sun!

Perfection

Do you speak truth?

Solid

Truly, I have been bred up so much, and so long, in the wayes of
truth, as I know no tract of dissembling; and therefore, certainly, my words
will ever keep within the compass of Truth, and my actions will alwaies
turn, and run with that byas; but why do you seem to doubt, in making such
questions.

Perfection

I will truly confess, I have heard, that since I have been in the
Countrey, you had entertained another Lover.

Cc Solid. Cc1v 10298

Solid

It’s false, but false reports, is like breathing upon a pure and clear
Glasse, it dimns it for a time; but that malicious breath, soon vanishes, and
leaves no stain behind it; so I hope your jealousie will do the like, it will
vanish, and leave no doubt behind it.

Perfection

I hope you are not angry with me, for telling you, or for being
my self troubled, at what was reported.

Solid

No, for innocency is never concern’d, it alwayes lives in peace and
quiet, having a satisfaction in it self, wherefore reports only seizes on the
guilty, arresting them with an angry turbulency.

Perfection

But, perchance you may be angry for my jealousie.

Solid

No, for jealousie expresses love, as being affraid to lose, what it
desires to keep.

Perfection

Then, I hope you do not repent the love you have placed on
me.

Solid

Heaven may sooner repent of doing good, than I repent my love
and choyce.

Perfection

Dear Mistress, my mind is so full of joy, since it is clear’d of
suspition, and assured of your love, as my thoughts doth fly about my brain,
like birds in Sun-shine weather.

Ex.

Scene 24.

Enter Monsieur Nobilissimo, and Madamosel Doltche.

Nobilissimo.

Sweet Lady, will you give me leave to be your Servant!

Doltche

I wish I were a Mistress worthy of your service.

Nobiliss

There is no man shall admire more your beauty, and wit, nor be
more diligent to your youth, nor shall honour your merits, and love your
vertue more than I.

Doltche

Indeed, I had rather be honoured for my merit, than for my birth,
for my breeding, than for my wealth, and I had rather be beloved for my
vertue, than admired for my beauty; and I had rather be commended for
my silence, than for my wit.

Nobilissimo

It were pity you should bury your great wit in silence.

Doltche

My wit is according to my years, tender and young.

Nobilissimo

Your wit, Lady, may entertain the silver haired Sages.

Doltche

No surely, for neither my years, nor my wit, are arrived to that
degree, as to make a good companion, having had neither the experience of
time, nor practice of speech; for I have been almost a mute hitherto, and a
stranger to the World.

Nobilissimo

The W is wide, and to travel in it, is both dangerous and
difficult; wherefore, you being young, should take a guide, to protect and
direct you, and there is no Guide nor Protector so honourable, and safe, as a
Husband; what think you of marriage.

Doltche

Marriage, and my thoughts, live at that distance, as they seldom
meet.

Nobilissimo

Why, I hope you have not made a vow, to live a single
life.

Doltche. Cc2r 10399

Doltche

No, for the Lawes of Morality, and Divinity, are chains, which
doth sufficiently restrain mankind, and tyes him into a narrow compasse;
and though I will not break those chaining Laws, to get lose, and so become
lawless; yet I will not tye nature harder with vain opinions, and unnecessary
vows, than she is tyed already.

Nobilissimo

You shall need no Tutour, for you cannot only instruct your
self, but teach others.

Doltche

Alas, my brain is like unplanted ground, and my words like
wild fruits, or like unprofitable grain, that yields no nourishing food to the
understanding; Wherefore, if I should offer to speak, my speech must be
to ask questions, not to give instructions.

Nobilissimo

Certainly, Lady, nature did study the architectour of your
form, and drew from herself the purest extractions, for your mind, and your
soul, the essence or spirits of those extractions, or rather you appear to me,
a miracle, something above nature, to be so young and beautifull, and yet
so vertuous, witty and wise, grac’d with such civil behaviour; for many a
grave beard, would have wagg’d with talking, lesse sense, with more
words.

Doltche

Youth and age, is subject to errors, one for want of time to get
experience, the other through long time, wherein they lose their memory.

Nobilissimo

Pray let me get your affections, and then I shall not lose my
hopes of a vertuous Lady to my wife.

Ex.

Scene 25.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, and Monsieur Generosity.

Generosity

Lady, are you walking studiously alone? may I not be thought
rude, if I should ask what your studies are?

Capris

I am studying, how some studies for pain, some pleasure, some
dangers, some quarrels, some to be wicked, some to be learned, some to be
ignorant, some to be foolish, some to be famous, but few to be wise.

Generosity

Who studies to be wicked?

Capris

Thieves, Murtherers, Adulterers, Lyers, and Extortioners.

Generosity

Who studies to be learned?

Capris

Linguists.

Generosity

Who studies to be ignorant?

Capris

Divines.

Generosity

Who studies quarrels?

Capris

Lawyers.

Generosity

Who studies dangers?

Capris

Souldiers.

Generosity

Who studies to be fools?

Capris

Buffoones.

Generosity

Who studies fame?

Capris

Poets.

Generosity

Who studies pleasure?

Cc2 Capris. Cc2v 104100

Capris

Epicures.

Generosity

Who studies pain?

Capris

Epicures.

Generosity

Do Epicures study both for pain, and pleasure?

Capris

Yes, for they that surfeit with pleasutre, must endure pain; and
Epicures studies the height of pleasure, which no sooner injoyed, but pain
follows.

Generosity

Who studies to be wise?

Capris

They that study Temperance, Prudence, Fortitude and Justice.

Generosity

And what study you?

Capris

I study how I may avoid the company of mankind, also to be quit
of your Lordships presence.

He alone. She goeth out.

Generosity

She is so handsome, no humour can ill become her.

Ex.

Scene 26.

Enter Monsieur Profession, and Monsieur Comorade.

Comorade

Thom. Give me leave to rejoyce with thee, for the resurrection
of thy heart, that was kill’d with thy Mistresses cruelty, and buried in
her constancy.

Profession

Well, well? make your self merry.

Comorade

But prethee, in what plight is thy heart? I doubt it is lean, weak
and pale, and in a puling condition, lying in the Grave of thy Mistresses inconstancy.

Profession

Faith, I cannot tell; the good Angel that brought it to life, can
give a better account of it, than I can.

Comorade

Where shall I seek this good Angel? amongst the effeminate
or masculine Sex: For I suppose, it is an Angel that is of one Sex, although
I have heard, Angels are of neither Sex; but prethee, of which shall I inquire.

Profession

Of the divine Sex, and the divinest of her Sex.

Comorade

You may as well bid me inquire of that which is not to be
found, for every particular man that is a Servant to any particular of these angelical
creatures, will prefer his own Mistress, to be the divinest, and so the
most absolutest.

Profession

All men that sees my Mistresse, and doth not adore her, as the
only She, is damned in ignorance, and condemned to perpetual blindnesse.

Comorade

Say you so, then I will not see her, for fear that I should be one of
the damned, and therefore I will give over that design, as the search of her, and go to a Tavern, and drink the good health of thy heart, and leave the inquiry
after it, and if you will go with me, so.

Profession

I cannot, without the breach of gratitude, deny thy kindnesse;
wherefore, I will bear thee company.

Ex.
Scene Dd1r 105101

Scene 27.

Enter Doctor Freedom, and Madamosel Doltche, Madamosel
Solid
, Madamosel Volante.

Solid

O, you are welcome, Doctor Freedom.

Doctor

If I be not welcome now, I shall never be welcome.

Volante

Why, Doctor? what present have you brought us? that can
make you so acceptable, is it perpetual youth, or undeniable beauty, or everlasting
life? But prethee, Doctor, what is it that will make thee so welcome?

Doctor

Why, my self; here being so many young Ladies together, and
not a man amongst them.

Volante

Thy self, Doctor! why, thou art not worth the dregs of an Urinal,
of a sick water, if it were not for our charity, and generosity, more than
thy merit, ability or service, you would have but a cold entertainment, and a
rude welcome.

Doctor

Well, my young, wity, saterycal Patient, you will take a surfeit
of fruit, milk, puddings, pyes, or sweet-meats, one of these dayes, and then
you will flatter me.

Volante

You say right, Doctor; but now I speak truth, and is not that
better than to flatter, or dissemble; For there is none but sick, and deprav’d
souls, that will deliver Truth with a quarter, half, or three quartred face, like
Merchants, or mechanick, that would sell off their ill commodities, with a
broken light, but a noble and healthfull soul, shews the full face of Truth,
in a clear light; wherefore, the sick and base, will flatter, but the noble and
free, will speak truth.

Doctor

Well, I am sure you think better of me in your thoughts, than
your words expresses.

Volante

Let me tell you, my words and thoughts, are so well acquainted,
as they never dissemble, and there is such a friendship betwixt them, as they
never move several wayes, but runs even together: But let me tell thee, Doctor,
I have such a spleen to thy Sex, as I desire to kill them, at least, to wound
them with spitefull words; and I wish I had beauty enough for to damn
them, causing them to be purjured, by forsaking other women, they were
bound by sacred vows, and holy bonds.

Enter Monsieur Discretion.

Discretion

It is well, Master Doctor, that you can be priviledg’d amongst
the young Ladyes, at all times, when such as I, that have not your Profession,
are oftentimes shut, and lockt out.

Doctor

Faith, if you have no better entertainment, than I have had since
I came, it were better you were from them, than with them, for their
tongues are as sharp as needles.

Volante

’Tis a sign we want work, when we are forc’d to stitch our wit
upon you.

Discretion

How dare you anger the Doctor, when your life lyes upon his skill.

Dd Volante. Dd1v 106102

Volante

O! His skill lyes upon chance, and it is a chance, whether he
kills, or cures, is it not, Doctor?

Doctor

No, for I can kill my Patients, when I will, although not cure them,
when I will.

Volante

Well, then, Doctor, when I would dye, I will send for you, but
not when I would live.

Discretion

Your Servant, Ladies.

Monsieur Discretion goeth out.

Doctor

Good Lady Wit, follow Monsieur Discretion, he will make you a
wise Lady, and make your wit discreet, as it should be.

Volante

O Doctor! how you mistake, for wit cannot be made, it is a
Creator, and not a Creature; for wit was the first Master, or Mistress of
Arts; the first Husband-man, Granger, Gardiner, Carver, Painter, Graver,
Caster and Moulder, Mason, Joyner, Smith, Brasier, Glazier, the first Chandler,
Vintener, Brewer, Baker, Cook, Confectioner, the first Spinster, Weaver,
Knitter, Tayler, Shoo-maker, and millions the like; also wit was the first
Navigator, Architector, Mathematician, Logitian, Geometrician, Cosmografir,
Astronomer, Astrologer, Philosopher, Poet, Historian and Hearold;
also wit made the first Common-wealth, invented Laws for Peace, Arms for
Wars, Ceremonies for State and Religion; also musick, dancing, dressing,
masking, playing for delight and pleasure; wit divides time, imployes time,
prevents time, and provides for time; it makes Heavens, and Hells, Gods and
Divels.

Doctor

Well, go thy wayes, for though thou hast a heavenly mind, and
an angelical beauty, yet thou hast a devilish wit,

Volante

It shall be sure to torment thee, Doctor, but do you hear, Doctor?
pray present my service to Monsieur Discretion, and tell him, it was a signe he
lik’d not our company, he made so short a stay.

Doctor

He perceived by your usage of me, that if he stayd, you would
beat him out of your company, with your two edged tongues; but I will
tell him what a Rallery you are.

Volante

I hope you will give me a good report, for I have fully charged
you.

Doctor

You have over-charged me, and therefore it is likely I shall break
into exclamations.

Ex.
Act Dd2r 107103

Act IV.

Scene 28.

Enter Monsieur Importunate, and Madamosel Caprisia.

Importunate

Lady, if I may not be your Husband, pray let there be a
friendship between us?

Capris

What kind of friendship would you make? for there are so many,
and of such different natures, as I know not which you would be; as some
friendship is made by beauty, some by flattery, some by luxurie, some by
factions, others by knavery, and all for interest.

Importunate

None for love?

Capris

No, but some are made by lust, but they last not long.

Importunate

And is there no friendship made by vertue?

Capris

O no, for vertue may walk all the World over, and meet never
a friend, which is the cause she lives alone; for all the World thinks her too
rigid for Society, which makes mankind adhere to her enemie vice.

Importunate

Doth not marriage make a friendship?

Capris

Very seldom, for marriage is like a Common-wealth, which is a
contract of bodyes, or rather a contract of interest, not a friendship betwixt
souls, and there is as much Faction, and oftener civil Wars in marriage, than
in publick Common-wealths.

Importunate

I desire our friendship may be Platonick.

Capris

That is too dangerous, for it oftimes proves a Traytor to Chastity.

Ex.

Scene 29.

Enter Monsieur Nobilissimo, Madamosel Doltche, and her
Nurse.

Nurse

Sir, you must give me leave to chide you, for staying so long with
my Nurse-child, as you keep her from her dinner, either go away, or stay
and dine with her.

Nobilissimo

Good Nurse, be patient, for though I am engaged to dine with
other company; yet her discourse is such charming musick, as I have not
power to go from her, as yet.

Doltche

If my discourse sounds musical, ’tis only when you are by, but
when you are absent, the strings of my voice, or speech, is as if they were broken,
for then my tongue is out of Tune, and my wit is out of humour.

Nobilissimo

My dearest and sweetest Mistress, may your merits be rewardedDd2 ded Dd2v 108104
by Fame, your vertue by Heaven, your life by Nature, and all your
earthly desires by Fortune.

Doltche

And my love by the return of yours.

Nobilissimo

When I forsake you, may Hell take my soul, and Divels torment
it for ingratitude and perjury.

Ex.

Scene 30.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and a Grave Matron.

Matron

Madamosel Doltche seems to be a very fine, sweet Lady, well-
behav’d, sober, modest, discreet, and of a gentle nature.

Volante

Most commonly, every one seems best at the first sight, by reason
they put on their civilest demeanors, gracefullest garbs, modestest countenance,
and speaks their most choycest phrases, or words, when they meet
strangers; all which, makes them appear to their advantage, when after acquaintance,
they will seem but vulgar, as when they are used to their ordinary
garbs, countenances and phrases, and that their natures and dispositions
were known, they will appear to be no better than their Neighbours; nay,
perchance not so good; the like will Madamosel Doltche appear to you.

Matron

I do suppose she looks more familiar on her acquaintance, than
strangers, and it is likely, she looks more grave, and sober on strangers, than
on her known friends, and familiars; yet those several looks and countenances,
may be as pleasing, and obliging, the one, as the other; for though the
countenance and behaviour, is to be ordered according to the several degrees
or relations of several persons, and to several persons, and to several sexes,
or according to their condition, state, life and fortune, and according to the
times and occasions; for women are, or should be, more free and confident
to, and in the company of women, than men; and men are more respectfull
in their discourse and behaviour to women, than to their own Sex, and a
merry countenance in a sad condition or state of life or fortunes, would not
be seemly; mirth in the house of mourning, would be inhumane, or to dance
or sing over the Graves of their Parents, Children, Husbands, Wives or
Friends, would be unnatural, or to be merry in the time of a general calamity,
as in time of Wars, Plagues, or Famine, or Deluges, or to be sad or
froward in a general rejoycing; but a sad countenance, and a grave behaviour,
is as fitting, and seems comely and handsome in a time of calamity, as a
merry countenance, and a dancing behaviour, in a time of rejoycing; for
tears becomes the face, sometimes, as well as smiles, and blushing may appear
and expresse a modest nature to strangers, when to familiar acquaintantances,
blushing might be thought an accuser, or witnesse of some crime,
yet bashfull eyes at all times, becomes modest Virgins.

Volante

I hate bashfull eyes; for they are like to troubled waters, thick
and unsteady, rouling from place to place, without an assurance; for modest
Virgins may look upon the World with a confident brow, if they have no
guilt to stain their cheeks with blushes, and surely amongst well-bred persons, there Ee1r 109105
there is none so rude, injurious, or uncivil, to force the bloud to rise, or stop
the light, in causing bashfull eyes, but such as condemns a confident countenance
in Virgins faces; my eye of understanding will cast a despising glance
on such ridiculous fools, and the tongue of reason condemns them.

Ex.

Scene 31.

Enter Madam la Mere, and Madamosel Caprisia her daughter.

M ere

I wonder, Daughter, you should be so rudely uncivil to Monsieur
Generosity
, to use him so unkindly, as to entertain him with scornfull
words, and disrespectfull behaviour.

Capris

Why did he come to visit me?

Mere

To offer his service, and to professe his affection to your person and
vertue.

Capris

I care not for his service, or affection.

Mere

But he is a person of an honourable Title, and can make you a
great Lady.

Capris

Give me leave to tell you, Mother, that nature hath given me Titles
of Honour, Wit and Beauty, to which all men will bow to, with respect;
Titles from Kings, poor petty things to those.

Mere

But Daughter, let me tell you, that wit and beauty, without modesty,
civility and vertuous courtesie, may insnare facile fools, and allure
fond persons, but not perswade the judicious to esteem you, nor the constant
to sue to you, nor true love to desire you; you may have vain Boasters, and
amorous Flatterers to court you; but none that is wise, or honourable, will
marry you, and to use this Noble Lord so disrespectfully, who is indued with
vertue, and adorned with the graces, and beloved of the Muses, is a crime
unpardonable.

Capris

Mother, the Muses and the Graces are Witches, which enchants
the soul, and charms the Spirits, and makes the Senses extravagant, and the
actions desperate.

Mere

Methinks they should charm you; if they have such power.

Capris

My humour is a Spell against all such charms.

Ex.
Ee Scene Ee1v 110106

Scene 32.

Enter Monsieur Profession, and Monsieur Comorade his Friend.

Comorade

You are well met, for I was going to your lodging to see
you.

Profession

And I am now going home, and therefore let us go together.

Comorade

Where have you been?

Profession

At a house you often resort to.

Comorade

What, at a Bawdy-house?

Profession

Yes.

Comorade

Why, how durst you venture?

Profession

Why?

Comorade

Why! why if your angelical Mistresse should come to hear of
it; Faith, she would bury your heart again.

Profession

Yes, if it were not out of her power.

Comorade

Why, hath she not the Possession?

Profession

No faith.

Comorade

How comes that to passe?

Profession

I know not how, but upon some dislike, it grew weary, and by
some opportunity, it found it stole home, and since it hath promised never to
leave me again; for it hath confessed to me, it hath been most miserably tormented
with doubts, fears, jealousies and despairs.

Comorade

Prethee let me tell thee, as a friend, that thy heart, is a false lying
heart, for there inhabits no torments amongst angelical bodies.

Profession

By your favour, in Plutoes Court, there be Angels as well, and
as many as in Joves; But let me tell you, that if I did not love you very well,
I would call you to an account, for calling my heart, a false lying heart.

Comorade

Prethee pacifie thy self, for I am sure I have had but a heartless
friend of thee, all the time of thy heats absence, and if I should rayle of
thy heart, thou hast no reason to condemn me; but prethee, tell me, had not
thy heart some pleasure sometimes to mitigate the torments?

Profession

No faith, for my heart tells me, that what with rigid vertue,
cruel scorn, and insulting pride, it never had a minutes pleasure, nor so much
as a moment of ease; and if that there were no more hopes of happiness
amongst the Gods in Heaven, than there is amongst the Goddesses on Earth,
it would never desire to go to them, or dwell amongst them: Nay, my heart
says, it should be as much affraid to go to Heaven, and to be with the Gods,
as mortals are to go to Hell, to be with Divels.

Comorade

But if pleasure, and happiness, is not to be found with vertue,
nor with the Gods, where shall we seek for it.

Profession

I will tell you what my heart saith, and doth assure me; that
is, that pleasure lives alwaies with vice, and that good fellowship is amongst
the damned, and it doth swear, it is a most melancholly life, to live with those
that are called the blessed, which are the Goddesses on Earth.

Comorade

Why, then let us return to the house from whence you came.

Profession

No faith, I am dry, wherefore I will go to a Tavern.

Comorade

Content.

Ex.
Scene Ee2r 111107

Scene 33.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia alone, in a studeous humour, walking
for a time silently; then speaks.

Capris

Which shall I complain of? Nature or Education; I am
compassionate by nature; for though I am froward, I am not cruel,
I am pious by education; for though I am froward, I am not wicked, I
am vertuous by nature, and education; for though I am froward, I am
neither dishonest, unchaste, base, or unworthy: Why then, ’tis Fortune I
must complain of, for Fortune hath given me plenty, and plenty hath made
me proud, and pride hath made me self-conceited, self-conceit hath bred
disdain, and disdain scorn; So pride, disdain, and scorn, makes me disapprove
all other creatures actions, or opinions, but my own; and this disapproving
is that which men calls cross, pievish, and froward disposition, being
most commonly, accompanied with sharp satyrical words, and angry
frowns.

These faults i’l conquer, whereresoere they lye;

I’l rule my froward humour, or i’l dye

Ex.
Enter Madamosel Solid, and a Matron.

Solid

Lord! Lord! I wonder men and women should spend their time
so idley, and wast their lives so vainly, in talking so ignorantly, and acting
so foolishly upon the great Stage, or the Stage of the great World.

Matron

Why, how would you have them spend their time, or talk, or
act?

Solid

I would have them spend their time, to gain time, as to prevent or
hinder times oblivion, and to speak and act to that design,

―― That when their bodies dye,

Their Names and Fames, may live eternally.

Matron

But it is not in every mans, or womans power, to get fame, for
some are made uncapable by nature, others are hindred by fortune, some
are obstructed by chance, others want time and opportunity, wealth, birth
and education, and many that are pull’d back by envie, spite and malice.

Solid

What man or woman soever, that nature is liberal to, may eternalize
themselves; as for fortune, she may hinder the active, the like may
chance, envie, spite and malice, but cannot hinder the contemplative; the
like may time and opportunity; but poor poverty and birth, can be no hindrance
to natural wit, for natural wit, in a poor Cottage, may spin an afterlife,
enter-weaving several colour’d fancies, and threeds of opinions, making
fine and curious Tapestries to hang in the Chambers of fame, or wit may Ee2 cut Ee2v 112108
cutand carve Images of imaginations, to place and set forth the Gardens of
fame, making fountains of Poetry, that may run in smooth streams of vetrse,
or wit may paint and pensel out some Copies, and various Pictures of Nature,
with the pensels of Rhethorick on the grounds of Philosophy, to hang
in the Galleries of fame; Thus the Palacesses of fame may be furnished
and adorn’d by the wit of a poor Cottager.

Ex.

Scene 35.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, alone.

Capris

Item, I am to be courteous, but not familiar; to be merry, but
not wild; to be kind, but not wanton, to be friendly, but not intimate;
to be sociable, but not troublesome; to be conversable, but not talkative; to
look soberly, but not frowningly; to return answers civilly, to ask questions
wisely, to demand rights honestly, to argue rationally, and to maintain opinions
probably: These rules I will strictly observe, and constantly practice.

Enter Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Capris

Sir, I cry peccavi, and ask your pardon, for speaking so unhandsomely
of the effeminate Sex, when I was last in your company; for my indiscretion
made me forget, so as not to remember, that all men hath either
Wives, Sisters, Daughters or Mothers: But truly, my discourse proceeded
neither from spite or malice, but from the consideration of my own faults,
which being so many, did bury the good graces of other women; for though
I am vertuously honest, yet I am but rudely fashion’d, and untoward for
conversation; but though my discourse had a triangular countenance, for it
seem’d foolish, spitefull and wicked; yet pray, Sir, believe, the natural face,
was a perfect, round, honest face.

Bon Compaignon

Lady, what faults soever, your Sex is guilty, your vertues
will get their pardon, and your beauty will cover their blemishes.

Capris

I wish my indiscretion had not discovered my froward imperfections,
but I am sorry, and shall hereafter endeavour to rectifie my errours.

Ex.

Scene 36.

Enter Monsieur Nobilissimo, and Nurse.

Nobilissimo

Good Nurse, where is my vertuous, sweet Mistresse?

Nurse

In her chamber, Sir.

Nobilissimo

What is she doing?

Nurse

She is reading.

Nobilissimo

What Books doth she read? are they Divinity, Morality,
Philosophy, History or Poetry?

Nurse Ff1r 113

Nurse

Sometimes her study is of one, and then of another; But now I
think, her chief study, is you, wherein she may read humanity.

Enter Madamosel Doltche, and seeing Monsieur Nobilissimo with her Nurse,
starts back, and then comes forth blushing.

Nurse

Lord child! what makes you blush?

Doltche

Not crimes, but my blushing, is caused by a sudden assault, or
surprisal meeting him; I did not expect to meet at this time, which raised
up blushes in my face; for blushing is like the full and falling tide; for the
bloud flows to the face, and from thence ebbes to the heart, as passions moves
the mind;

And thoughts as waves, in curling folds do rise,

And bashfull eyes, are like the troubled skies.

Nobilissimo

Sweet Mistress, crimes cannot stain your cheeks with blushes,
but modesty hath penseld Roses there, which seems as sweet, as they look
fair.

Doltche

I desire my looks and countenance, may alwaies appear so, as they
may never falsly accuse me; and as I would not have my looks, or countenance,
wrong my innocency, or deceive the Spectators, so I would not have
my heart be ungratefull to bury your presence in silence; Wherefore, I give
you thanks, Sir, for the noble Present you sent me to day.

Nobilissimo

I was affraid you would not have accepted of it.

Doltche

Truly, I shall refuse no Present you shall send me, although it
were ushered with scorn, and attended with death.

Nobilissimo

My kind Mistress, I shall never send you any Present, but what
is ushered by my love, attended by my service, and presented with the offer
of my life.

Nurse

Child, you are very free of kind words.

Doltche

And my deeds shall answer my words, if need requires; yet I
am sorry if my speaking over-much, should offend; but I chose rather, to
set bosses of words on the sense of my discourse, although it obscures the
glosse of my speech, than my love should be buried in my silence.

Nobilissimo

Sweet Mistresse, your loving expressions gives such joy unto
my heart, and such delight unto my hearing, as my soul is inthron’d in happinesse,
and crown’d with tranquility.

Nurse

Pray Heaven, you both may be as full of Love, Joy and Peace,
when you are married, as you express to have now; But let me tell you,
young Lovers, that Hymen is a very temperate, and discreet Gentleman in
love, I will assure you; neither doth he expresse himself in such high poetical
Raptures, for his discourse is plain, and ordinary.

Nobilissimo

Nay, sometimes his discourse is extraordinary, as when he hath
Wars; but Nurse, thou art old, and the fire of love, if ever thou hadst any,
is put out by old Father Times extinguisher.

Doltche

True love never dyes, nor can time put it out.

Nobilissimo

’Tis true, but Nurse seems by her speech, as if she had never
known true love; for true love, as it alwaies burns clear, so it alwaies flames
high, far infinite is the fewel that feeds it.

Nurse

Well, well? young Lovers, be not so confident, but let me advise Ff you Ff1v 114
you to ballance reason on both sides, with hopes, and doubts, and then the
judgement will be steady.

Nobilissimo

But in the scales of love, Nurse, nothing must be but confidence.

Nurse

Yes, there must be temperance, or love will surfeit, and dye with
excess.

Doltche

Love cannot surfeit, no more than souls with grace, or Saints of
Heaven.

Ex.

Scene 37.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, alone.

Capris

My smiles shall be as Baits, my eyes as Angels, where every look
shall be a hook to catch a heart; I’l teach my tongue such art, to
plant words on each heart, as they shall take deep root, from whence pure
love shall spring; my lips shall be as flowery banks, whereon sweet rhetorick
grows, and cipherous fancy blows; from which banks, love shall wish to
gather Posies of kisses, where every single kisse shall differ as Roses, Pinks,
Violets, Primroses, and Daffidillies, and the breath therefrom, shall be as
fragrant as the touch, soft thereon, and as the Sun doth heat the Earth, so shall
my imbraces heat my Lovers thoughts with self-conceit, which were before
like water, frozen with a dejected and despairing cold. Hay ho!

Ex.

Act V.

Scene 38.

Enter Monsieur Profession, and Madamosel Solid.

Profession

Dear Mistress, you are the only She that is fit to be crown’d;
the sole Empresse of the World.

Solid

Let me tell you, Sir? I had rather be a single Shepheardesse,
than the sole Empress of the World; for I would not be a Mistress of so
much power, to be as a Servant to so much trouble.

Profession

But, put the case Alexander were alive, and would crown you
Empress of the World, you would not refuse that honour, but accept of
it, for the sake of renown.

Solid

Yes, I should refuse it, for if I could not get renown by my own
merits, I should wish to dye in Oblivion, for I care not; Nay, I despise such honours Ff2r 115111
honours and renowns, as comes by derivations, as being deriv’d from another,
and not inherent in my self, and it is a poor, and mean renown, that is gain’d
or got, only by receiving a gift from a fellow-creature, who gives out of pas
sion, appetite, partiality, vain-glory, or fear, and not for merit or worth-
sake; wherefore, no gifts but those that comes from the Gods, or Nature,
are to be esteem’d, or received with thanks, but were to be refused, had man
the power to chose, or to deny.

Profession

Sweet Mistress, nature hath crown’d you with beauty and wit,
and the Gods hath given you a noble soul.

Solid

I wish they had, for the Gods gifts are not like to mans, and natures
crown is beyond the golden crown of Art, which are greater glories, than
Power, Wealth, Title or Birth, or all the outward honours gain’d on Earth;
but I desire the Gods may crown my soul with reason and understanding;
Heaven crown my mind with Temperance and Fortitude; Nature crown
my body with Health and Strength, time crown my life with comely and
discreet age; Death crown my separation with peace and rest; and Fame
crown my memory with an everlasting renown; thus may my creation be to
a happy end.

Profession

Gods, Fortune and Fates hath joyned to make me happy in your
love, and that which will make me absolutely happy, is, that I shall marry
you, and imbrace you as my wife.

Solid

The absolute happiness is, when the Gods imbraces man with mercy,
and kisses him with love.

Ex.

Scene 39.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia.

Capris

Hay, ho! who can love, and be wise? but why do I say so? For
reason loves wisely; ’tis only the mistaken senses that loves foolishly;
indeed, the sense doth not love, but fondly, and foolishly affects, for it, ’tis
an humoursome and inconstant appetite that proceeds from the body, and
not that noble passion of true love which proceeds from the soul: But O!
what a ridiculous humour am I fallen into, from a cholerick humour, into
an amorous humour; Oh! I could tear my soul from my body, for having
such whining thoughts, and such a mean, submissive, croaching, feigning,
flattering humour, and idle mind; a cholerick humour, is noble to this, for
it is commanding, and seems of an heroick spirit; but to be amorous, is base,
beastly, and of an inconstant nature.

Oh! how apt is busie life to go amisse,

What foolish humours in mans mind there is:

But O! The soul is far beyond the mind,

As much as man is from the beastly kind.

Ex.
Ff2 Scene Ff2v 116112

Scene 40.

Enter Madamosel Volante, and Doctor Freedom.

Doctor

Are you weary of your life? that you send me; for you said,
you would not send for me, untill you had a desire to dye.

Volante

True, Doctor, and if you cannot cure me, kill me.

Doctor

In my conscience, you have sent for me to play the wanton.

Volante

Why, Doctor? If I do not infringe the rules and laws of modesty,
or civility, I cannot commit wanton faults.

Doctor

Yes faith, your tongue may play the wanton,

Volante

Indeed, Doctor, I had rather tell a wanton truth, than a modest
lye.

Doctor

Well, what is your disease?

Volante

Nay, that you must guesse, I can only tell my pains.

Doctor

Where is your pain?

Volante

In my heart and head.

Doctor

Those be dangerous parts, but after what manner are you pains?

Volante

On my heart there lyes a weight, as heavy as the World on Atlas
shoulders; and from my melancholly mind, arises such damps of doubts,
as almost quenches out the fire of life, did not some hope, though weak,
which blows with fainting breath, keep it alive, or rather puffs than blows,
which intermitting motions, makes my pulse unequal, and my bloud to ebbe
and flow, as from my heart, unto my face; and from my face, unto my
heart again; as for my head, it feels drousie, and my spirits are dull; my
thoughts uneasily doth run, crossing, and striving to throw each other down;
this causes broken sleeps, and frightfull dreams, and when I awake at every
noyse, I start with fears, my limbs doth shake.

Doctor

Why, this disease is love, wherefore I cannot cure you; for love
no more than wit, can neither be temper’d, nor yet be rul’d, for love and
wit, keeps neither moderate bounds, nor spares diet, but dyes most commonly
of a surfeit.

Volante

O yes, discretion can cure both.

Doctor

Then send for Monsieur Discretion, and hear what he sayes to you,
for your disease is past my skil.

Volante

By your industry, Doctor, help may be found, in giving directions,
and ordering the cordial.

Doctor

So I understand you would have my counsel what you should do,
and my industry to order, and get a meeting between Monsieur Discretion and
you, and to make the match betwixt you.

Volante

You understand me right.

Doctor

Well, I will study the means, and trye if I can procure thee a man.

Volante

Good fortune be your guide.

Doctor

And Monsieur Discretion, your Husband,

Ex.
Scene Gg1r 117113

Scene 41.

Enter Madamosel Caprisia, alone.

Capris

Thoughts be at rest, for since my love is honest, and the person
I love worthy, I may love honourably, for he is not only learned with
study, experienced with time and practice, but he is natures favourite, she
hath endued his soul with uncontrouled reason, his mind with noble thoughts,
his heart with heroick generosity, and his brain with a supream wit; Besides,
she hath presented his judgement and understanding, with such a clear Prospective-glasse
of speculations, and such a Multiplying-glass of conceptions,
as he seeth farther, and discerns more into natures works, than any man she
hath made before him.

She stops a little time, then speaks.

But let me consider? I have us’d this worthy Gentleman uncivilly, nay
rudely, I have despised him; wherefore he cannot love me, for nature abhors
neglect, and if he cannot love me in honesty, he ought not to marry me,
and if I be not his wife, for certain I shall dye for love, or live a most unhappy
life, which is far worse than death. Hay ho!

Enter Madam la Mere her Mother.

Mere

What, Daughter, sick with love?

Capris

O, Mother? love is a Tyrant, which never lets the mind be at rest,
and the thoughts are the torments, and when the mind is tormented, the body
is seldom in health.

Mere

Well, to ease you, I will go to this Lord Generosity, and pray him
to give you a visit.

Capris

By no means, Mother, for I had rather dye with love, than live to
be despised with scorn, for he will refuse your desires, or if he should come,
it would be but to express his hate, or proudly triumph on my unhappy state.

Madamosel Caprisia goes out. Madamosel Mere alone.

Mere

She is most desperately in love, but I will endeavour to settle her
mind.

Ex.

Scene 42.

Enter Doctor Freedom, and Madamosel Volante.

Doctor

Am not I a good Doctor now, that hath got you a good Husband?

Volante

Nay, Doctor, he is but a Suiter, as yet.

Doctor

Why do not you woe upon the Stage, as the rest of your Comorades
doth?

Gg Volante. Gg1v 118114

Volante

O fye, Doctor Discretion never whines out love in publick.

Doctor

So you love to be in private?

Volante

Why, Doctor, the purest love is most conceal’d, it lyes in the
heart; and it warms it self by its own fire.

Doctor

Take heed, for if you keep it too tenderly, and close, it may chance
to catch cold when it comes abroad.

Volante

True love ought to keep home, and not to gossip abroad.

Enter a Servant-maid.

Servant-maid

Madam Monsieur Discretion is come to visit you.

Volante

Come, Doctor, be a witnesse of our contract?

Doctor

I had rather stay with your maid.

Volante

She hath not wit to entertain you.

Doctor

Nor none to anger me.

Volante

Pray come away, for no wise man is angry with wit.

Doctor

I perceive, if I do not go with you, that you will call me
fool.

Ex.

Scene 43.

Enter Monsieur Comorade, and Monsieur Bon Compaignon.

Bon Compaignon

Comorade, what cause makes you so fine to day?

Comorade

I am going to two weddings to day.

Bon Compaignon

Faith, one had been enough; but how can you divide
your self betwixt two Bridals?

Comorade

I shall not need to divide my self, since the Bridals keeps together;
for they are marryed both in one Church, and by one Priest, and they
feast in one house.

Bon Compaignon

And will they lye in one bed?

Comorade

No surely, they will have two beds, for fear each Bride-groom
should mistake his Bride.

Bon Compaignon

Well, I wish the Bride-grooms, and their Brides joy,
and their Guests, good chear.

Comorade

Will not you be one of the Guests?

Bon Compaignon

No, for a Bon Compaignon shuns Hymens Court, neither
will Hymen entertain him: But who are the Brides and Bride-grooms?

Comorade

Monsieur Nobilissimo and Madamosel Doltche, and Monsieur
Perfection
and Madamosel Solid.

Bon Compaignon

Is Monsieur Profession a Guest there.

Comorade

No, for he swears now, that he hates marriage, as he hates
death.

Bon Compaignon

But he loves a Mistress, as he loves life.

Ex.
Scene Gg2r 119115

Scene 44.

Enter Monsieur Generosity, and Madamosel Caprisia; he following
her.

Generosity

Lady, why do you shun my company, in going from me,
pray stay, and give my visit a civil entertainment; for though I am not
worthy of your affection, yet my love deserves your civility.

Capris

I know you are come to laugh at me, which is ignobly done; for
heroick, generous spirits, doth not triumph on the weak effeminate Sex.

Generosity

Pray believe I am a Gentleman, for if I loved you not, yet I
would never be rude, to be uncivil to you, or your Sex; But I love you so
well, as when I leave to serve you with my life, may nature leave to nourish
me, fortune leave to favour me, and Heaven leave to blesse me, and then let
death cast me into Hell, there to be tormented.

Capris

I am more obliged to your generous affections, than to my own
merits.

Generosity

The ill opinion of your self doth not lessen your vertues, and
if you think me worthy to be your Husband, and will agree, we will go
strait to Church, and be marryed.

Capris

I shall not refuse you.

Ex.

Finis.