 | Psyche Debauch'd |  |
Scene I.
Enter Wossat and Bruine.Woss.
Son
Bruin mind your hits, I say mind your hits; this
young cold Harlottry None-so-fair, must be sous'd,
and touz'd do'e mark me; she must be tumbl'd and jumbl'd;
she must I say it, or else the Noble Science of Wenching will
grow obsolete, and all our Famous Function may starve; for
after that, who will pity poor decay'd old Gentlewomen that
carry Letters or suffer Tours, Points, Paint, or Patches,
to be brought to their Chambers? And you of the Illustrious
Society of Pimping, may hang if you have Courage enough
to deserve it; or dye in holes like poyson'd Ratts; You
will be shouted through the Street, like strange Dogs with
horns at their tails, pump'd and baited like Spirits that steal
children; every Cuckold will have a snap at your Carkasses.
Bru.
Then one comfort will be, that our miseries will be
short liv'd, for those Beasts you talk of swarm so thick, that
'twill be impossible to pass one Street without being worried
to death. Every publick Assembly looks like a Picture
of the Creation before man was made, fill'd up with variety
of Creatures, that show all Horns and Tails.
Woss.
'Tis for our honour, know that I will revive the
Sect of Adamites, renew the Family of Love, and make the
slavery of Marriage so out of fashion, that a Man and Wife
shall be show'd about, and wondred at as much as an Hermaphrodite,
an entire Egyptian Mummy, or a Cat with two
tails.
Bru.
I know Mother your Interest with the Gentry is
great, there is hardly a Noble Family, where one of your
Order, does not lye hid under the shape of a Couzen, House-keeper,
Wayting Women, Chamber-Maid, or the like.—
Woss.
That I learn't from my Brother on the other side of
the water: whose Emissaries are all disguis'd, his precepts
20 Whores then one wife to those of our order; I will bring
up here that old Scotch Custom, that every Lord of the
Manour shall have the first nights dalliance with the Bodies
of all his Vassals.
Bru.
That will assure you the hearts of all the great Ones,
and keep the others from Marriage, so your business is
done.
Woss.
But first let None-so-fair's business be done.
Bou.
I dare not; she is King Andrews best beloved daughter.
Woss.
Were she the skin between her brows, I'de not
spare her; do't or forswear thy Office.—
Bru.
That I could easily do, for 'tis not now worth keeping,
if there's any new piece worth Money, a Father, Brother,
or some Relation, Usurps our office, and reaps the profit.
Woss.
'Tis too true, and 'tis unconscionable, that Christians
should turn Canibals, and feed upon their own flesh
and blood, my case is even as bad too; I that have spent
my Youth to gain experience, must in my Age be Nos'd, and
have my Bread taken from my Teeth, by every Black brow'd
Baggage, that leaps into the publick Practice of procuring,
e'r they know the mystery of jilting; nay too often learn
both together.
Bru.
In the City they dare not use two Trades at once;
but in the Suburbs they may do any thing.—
Woss.
Your Midwife, who is related to our Craft, as a
Phisician is to a Mountebank; for we make work for them
to finish, though we Lay six to their one, suffers none to
profess their Art till they have been Deputies seven years.—
Well, things and things must be mended; but first to the
point, King Andrews three Daughters are coming to the
wishing Chair; the two elder are mad for Husbands, their
business is done to our hands.—
Bru.
Quite contrary; for if they Marry they'l renounce
you.
Woos.
No! Though ordinary people that pretend not to
the modish, Marry to live sullen, that is, chast. Others know
priviledge of keeping a Miss after Marriage, as a Woman
with a Portion does for a Joynture: Ay! and inserts it into
that Covenant.—Make us thankful, we live in a loving
Age,—but to the point—None-so-fair, by my means is
resolved to wish the White Bear of Norwich to be her Husband;
thinking, which is indeed true, that there is no such
thing, though we have frighted silly people into that belief,
to cheat them the better.
Bru.
Oh! now I find your meaning, that White Bear I
will be; and the King being possest with a Reverence to
our Juggling wishing Chair; shall himself bring her to my
Arms.—
Woss.
Very good; but least she should be stubborn, let
Jeffery be ready to assist you in your pious design.
Bru.
If we can but wheedle them into an awful faith.
Woss.
Why? should not the speech of a Chair, do as much
as Apollo's tripod, a Spirit in a Wall; or the eyes of Images
moved with Wires: let all be Grave and Solemn, for that's
the chief support of Counterfeit worship: and let your expressions
be in Greek, or any unpractis'd canting Gibberish.
Bru.
Enough, I'le warrant the bus'ness.
Woos.
This Musick tells their approach, let's dispatch and
attend them in.—
| Psyche Debauch'd | |