 | Psyche Debauch'd |  |
28
Scene III.
A Wilderness.Enter King Andrew, Sweet-lips, Woudha. and None-so-fair.
Non.
O Royal Dad, see, how he blubbers,
Kings should not whine so like great lubbers.
K. A.
O slip! O Daughter mine! where art thou gadding?
I ne'r shall hear thee more sing with a fadding.
Oh! that could grave thee hadst thou put in,
Before by me thou wer't begotten:
Why should the Gods be so barbraous?
Oh! that t'hadst dy'd in Natures Ware-house,
Then Death that cunning old Shop-lifter,
From stall of eyes had never snift her.
Non.
—Your sniv'ling melts me, so that I
shall be quite dead before I dye.
K. And.
Oh ye Gods!
I've many a day paid Scot, and lot,
And well I'm serv'd, now am I not.
Nons.
—Oh! Sir begone, begone, I say,
For if you tarry here,
My life it will soon sneak away:
And cheat the Gods, and eke the bear,
Sisters two I leave you here,
To keep you clean and sweet.
Be good unto my Daddy dear,
For so 'tis very meet.
Each week let him have shirt full clean,
Let head be comb'd, and wash'd his face,
Let holes be mended in hosen,
Himself can't do't, you see alass.
Sir, On my knees I you beseech,
To leave me now alone.
For why my Elbows both do itch,
Till you are fled, and gone.
29
For if the Bear should come, have at all.
Bw'y Daddy for ever and a day.
K. And.
—Mine own dear Hussey do not so say,
Bespeak a place for me below there:
For I'le come down some time or other,
And do'e hear, remember me to your Mother.
Exeunt all but None-so-fair.
Noneso.
For all so well I hid my fears,
Deaths Calumny my face besmears,
Laud what a quiddie am I in i'fack; i'fack,
You may wring the shift upon my back:
If 'twere but Flesh and Blood I would not fear,
But to be touz'd by nought, but clawes and hair,
Hair, stiffer then, an old man Beard,
Would make the stoutest Vizard here afeard.
Why should I speak so; the Chair told me, the Bear would
be hind to me; I'le shut my eyes, and think; 'tis some
Gallant in Masquerade with Fur'd-Coat on, but then he can't
cry like a discreet soft Courtier, do'e know me now? no
He'l roar boh, ho, ho, and fall oh like a Drunken Soldier at
the Sack of a City.
Enter Phillip and Nicklas.
Phil.
O hoe! here she is—pluck up Heart, O Grace!
here take my muckinder, and dry thy ey'n, cham the Blood,
O'the Phillips! ne'r a Dog in the Village can zay, blacks
mine eye; but in the way of love and honesty, and av'ore
the Bear shall eat one bit o've thee.
Don't windle zoo, but leave thy doleful dumps.
Nick.
—Let Guts and Garbage feed white Bears,
Poor strolling Cracks and Wastcoteers:
Not Gods, but cheating Crew of juggling Chair,
Are mad to make a Meal on Royal Gueer.
Non.
I will not hear the Sacred Chair abused.
30
—Poor harmless Rogue! how sadly he's misused?
Great Princess, since grim Frucus coming,
No longer here, let's stay Caps thrumming.
Come jog along with us good Fellows,
We will regale you at next Ale-house.
And of one kiss of Bona Robas.
Bears, Gods, nor Divels, shall not bob us.
Non.
No more great Sirs was't Court-ship here,
You take the wrong sow by the ear,
For by Lord Harry I'el ne'r marry,
And when I do, it shan't be you,
Therefore go too.
A Roaring within as of a Boar.
Phil.
Odz-boars Prince Nick
Ston.
Vast, here's the Anchovies.
Nick.
Bear up, Phillip, bear up.
Phil.
Ay, ay, but don't hunch me zoo, chill warn't vor one.
A Roaring again, the Bear enters, seizes the Princess, and sincks with her, while Jeffry with a switch beats of the Princes.
| Psyche Debauch'd | |