University of Virginia Library

Sce. 6.

Pandora, Placenta, Merda.
Pan.
Placenta, you haue heard my cares, my griefes
And which hath caus'd them all, you know my loue,
Now by those tender yeeres, by that first raye
Of blessed light these infant eyes receiu'd
Vpon those vigilant knees, I doe conjure thee
Forsake me not in these my miseries

Mer.
Mother, Mother, Mother, what shall I doe?

Pla.
What newes with you, you fayrie brat? you changeling?
Daughter to Madam Pusse the kitchin mayd,
Take that and get you in, or Ile—

She beats her.
Mer.
Vm vm, vm.

Pla.
Will you not stirre?
Carry that chaire in with you Milderkin.

Exit Merda.
Pla.
What would you haue me do?

Pan.
Y'aue heard my sicknesse.
Tis the physician must prescribe the medicine
And not the patient.

Pla.
Will it suffice
If ere the Sunne does set you doe embrace
One of your Lovers?

Pan.
By all my vowes it will;
Nor am I much solicitous in the choyce,
So I haue one.

Pla.
But I must haue your helpe,
You must not meerely be a patient
In this same plot; can you dissemble thinke you?

Pan.
I am a woman, and may learne in time.

Pla.
Well then 'tis thus: you see your pampered Louers
(Like two fat Oxen in a Stall) stand blowing
Vpon their meat, are nice forsooth, and squeamish,
Will not fall to, because they're cloyd with dainties,
The onely way for to procure them stomacks,
Is to withdraw their fodder; take your loue
Before their eyes, and giue it to another,
Or seeme to doe at least, 'twill fetch them back;
And make them lick their lips at you, scratch for you:
I know not by what Fate, but true it is,
Wee neuer prize ought right till the departure,
And then our longing's multiplied. Can you fayne
A loue vnto some other Gentleman?
And seeme quite to neglect them and their seruice?

Pan.
I feare I cannot, 'tis too hard a Prouince:
But what will this aduantage me I pray you?

Pla.
So much, as nothing you can doe, will more.
A Louer's like a Hunter, if the game
Be got with too much ease hee cares not for't;
Shee that is wise in this our wayward age
VVill keepe her Louers sharpe, make them to ceize
Vpon a firebrand for meat.—What say you?

Pan.
Why I will try I say.

Pla.
Try? Oh that I
Had but that beauty in my managing,
In-faith I would not part with a good looke
Vnder a brace of Tens.

Pan.
Indeede Placenta
As you art now, you'd neede to sell them deare,
It is a rare commodity, your Shop
Affords not many of them.

Pla.
For a kisse
I'de haue a Lordship; a whole Patrimony
For a nights lodging; Come, you Maydens now
Are grown too kinde, too easie in your fauours,
A few smooth, oyly, verses now adayes
Bought of some Poet, and so iustly call'd
The Gallants owne that sends them, where your tresses
Are termed Sunbeames, and your rubie lips
Congealed Nectar, haue more power to winne you,
Then in my dayes two veluet Petticoates,
Or an hundred acres turn'd into Taffaties.
Speake, can you doe it?

Pan.
Sure I thinke I can,
If need require.

Pla.
It is enough, but see,
What Stripling's this comes here? Ha? 'tis most happily
This is Endymion Lucius his Page.