 | The Maid in the Mill |  |
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Ismena and Aminta.Ism.
Did you meet him?
Am.
Yes.
Ism.
And did you give my Letter?
Am.
To what end went I?
Ism.
Are ye sure it was he?
Was it that Gentleman?
Am.
Do you think I was blind?
I went to seek no Carrier, nor no Midwife.
Ism.
What kind of man was he? thou maist be deceived Friend.
Am.
A man with a nose on's face: I think he had eies too,
And hands: for sure he took it.
Ism.
What an answer?
Am.
What questions are these to one that's hot and troubled?
Do you think me a Babe? am I not able (Cosen)
At my years and discretion, to deliver
A Letter handsomly! is that such a hard thing?
Why every wafer-woman will undertake it:
A Sempsters girle, or a Taylors wife will not misse it:
A Puritane Hostesse (Cosen) would scorn these questions.
My legges are weary.
Ism.
I'll make'em well again.
Am.
Are they at Supper?
Ism.
Yes, and I am not well,
Nor desire no company: look out, 'tis darkish.
Am.
I see nothing yet: assure your self, Ismena,
If he be a man he will not misse.
Ism.
It may be he is modest,
And that may pull him back from seeing me;
Or has made some wild construction of my easinesse:
I blush to think what I writ.
Am.
What should ye blush at?
Blush when you act your thoughts, not when you write 'em;
Blush soft between a pair of sheets, sweet Cosen,
Though he be a curious carried Gentleman, I cannot think
He's so unnatural to leave a woman,
A young, a noble, and a beauteous woman,
Leave her in her desires: Men of this age
Are rather prone to come before they are sent for.
Hark, I hear somthing: up to th'Chamber, Cosen,
You may spoil all else.
Enter Antonio and Martine.
Ism.
Let me see, they are Gentlemen;
It may be they.
Am.
They are they: get ye up,
And like a Land-star draw him.
Ism.
I am shamefac'd.
Exit.
Ant.
This is the street.
Mar.
I am looking for the house:
Close, close, pray ye close here.
Ant.
No, this is a Merchants;
I know the man well:
Mar.
And this a Pothecaries: I have lain here many times.
For a loosenes in my Hilts.
Ant.
Have ye not past it?
Mar.
No sure:
There is no house of mark that we have scaped yet.
Ant.
What place is this?
Mar.
Speak softer: 'may be spies;
If any, this, a goodly window too,
Carv'd far above, that I perceive: 'tis dark,
But she has such a lustre.
Enter Ismena and Aminta above with a Taper.
Ant.
Yes Martine,
So radiant she appears.
Mar.
Else we may misse, Sir:
4
Hark, hark, a window, and a candle too.
Ant.
Step close, 'tis she: I see the cloud disperse,
And now the beautious Planet.
Mar.
Hah, 'tis indeed,
Now by the soul of love a divine Creature.
Ism.
Sir, Sir,
Ant.
Most blessed Lady.
Ism.
'Pray ye stand out.
Am.
You need not fear, there's no body now stirring.
Mar.
Beyond his commendation I am taken,
Infinite strangely taken.
Am.
I love that Gentleman,
Methinks he has a dainty nimble body:
I love him heartily.
Ism.
'Tis the right Gentleman:
But what to say to him, Sir.
Am.
Speak.
Ant.
I wait still,
And will do till I grow an other Pillar,
To propt this house, so it please you.
Ism.
Speak softly,
And 'pray ye speak truly too.
Ant,
I never lyde, Lady.
Ism.
And don't think me impudent to ask ye,
I know ye are an Enemie, speak low,
But I would make ye a friend.
Ant.
I am friend to beauty;
Ther's no handsomnesse I dare be foe too.
Ism.
Are ye married?
Ant.
No.
Ism.
Are ye betrothed?
Ant.
No, neither.
Ism.
Indeed (fair Sir.)
Ant.
Indeed (fair sweet) I am not.
Most beauteous Virgin, I am free as you are.
Ism.
That may be Sir, then ye are miserable,
For I am bound.
Ant.
Happy the bonds that hold ye;
Or do you put them on your self for pleasure?
Sure they be sweeter far then libertie:
There is no blessednesse but in such bondage:
Give me that freedom (Madam) I beseech ye,
(Since you have question'd me so cunningly)
To ask you whom you are bound to, he must be certain
More then humane, that bounds in such a beauty:
Happy that happy chain, such links are heavenly.
Ism.
Pray ye do not mock me, Sir.
Ant.
Pray ye (Lady) tell me.
Ism.
Will ye beleeve, and will ye keep it to ye?
And not scorn what I speak?
Ant.
I dare not (Madam)
As Oracle what you say, I dare swear to.
Ism.
I'll set the candle by: for I shall blush now;
Fy, how it doubles in my mouth? it must out,
'Tis you I am bound to.
Ant.
Speak that word again,
I understand ye not.
Ism.
'Tis you I am bound to.
Ant.
Here is another gentleman.
Ism.
'Tis you Sir.
Am.
He may belov'd too.
Mar.
Not by thee, first curse me.
Ism.
And if I knew your name.
Ant.
Antonio (Madam)
Ism.
Antonio, take this kisse, 'tis you I am bound to.
Ant.
And when I set ye free, may heaven forsake me,
Ismena.
Ism.
Yes, now I perceive ye love me,
You have learnd my name.
Ant.
Hear but some vows I make to ye:
Hear but the protestations of a true love.
Ism.
No, no, not now: vowes should be cheerful things,
Done in the cleerest light, and noblest testimony:
No vow (deer Sir) tye not my fair belief
To such strict termes: those men have broken credits,
Loose and dismembred faiths (my deer Antonio)
That splinter'em with vows: am I not too bold?
Correct me when you please.
Ant.
I had rather hear ye,
For so sweet Musick never struck mine eares yet:
Will you believe now?
Ism.
Yes.
Ant.
I am yours.
Ism.
Speak lowder,
If ye answer the Priest so low, you will lose your wedding
Mar.
Would I might speak, I would holloa.
Ant.
Take my heart,
And if it be not firm and honest to you,
Heaven.
Ism.
Peace, no more: I'll keep your heart, and credit it.
Keep you your word: when will you come again (Friend?)
For this time we have wooed indifferently,
I would fain see ye, when I dare be bolder.
Ant.
Why any night: onely (deer noble Mistris)
Pardon three daies: my Uncle Julio
Has bound me to attend him upon promile,
Upon expectation too: we have rare sports there,
Rare Countrey sports, I would you could but see'em.
Dare ye so honour me?
Ism.
I dare not be there,
You know I dare not, no, I must not (friend)
Where I may come with honourable freedom:
Alas, I am ill too; wee in love.
Ant,
You flowt me.
Ism.
Trust me I do not: I speak truth, I am sickly,
And am in Love: but you must be Physician.
Ant.
I'll make a plaister of my best affection.
Ism.
Be gone, we have supp'd, I hear the people stir,
Take my best wishes: give me no cause (Antonio)
To curse this hapyy night.
Ant.
I'll lose my life first,
A thousand kisses.
Ism.
Take ten thousand back again.
Mar.
I am dumb with admiration: shall we goe Sir?
Exeunt.
Ism.
Dost thou know his Uncle?
Am.
No, but I can ask, Cosen.
Ism.
I'll tell thee more of that, come let's to bed both,
And give me handsom dreams, Love, I beseech thee.
Am.
'Has given ye a handsom subject.
Ism.
Pluck to the windows.
Exeunt.
Six Chaires placed at the Arras.
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