University of Virginia Library

SCEN. 5.

Martagon, Cynosbatus, Poneria.
Ma.
Sage Dame, how fares thy grand designe?
Dost thinke thy plot will take?

Po.
Nay, if you doubt it, I wish it nere might take.
Have I made hell a partie in the action,
And laid such snares, that more then humane force
Cannot withstand my well knit stratagem;
Yet will you still torment me with these doubts?

Ma.
Nay gentle mother, be not so impatient.

Po.
You tempt my patience, while you thus mistrust
My skill and my ability.

Cy.
We doe adore thy matchlesse skill and wisdome,
Thou grace and wonder of thy sexe.

Po.
Me thinkes I see the merry Post at hand,
That brings us joyfull newes of Rhodons death:
And not behinde him much me thinkes I see
Another Post, who comes with better newes,
That Rhodons army is discourag'd and discarded,
Yea quite disbanded and disperst.

Ma.
Oh happy newes (divine Poneria)

Po.
Yet ye account me a meere silly Dame,
Yea as silly as some simple simpering Citizen.
That hath but manners enough to take
The upper end of a Table at a feast,
And to carve a Capons legge to a Coxcombe.

Ma.
The ten Sybils were no more comparable to thee,
Than an old Gentlewoman is to a yong Chambermaid.
Sweet Poneria, I am even in love with thee:
Yea, I durst almost sweare I should kisse thee,
If thou had'st but three rotten teeth in thy head.

Po.
Well, my Masters, I hope you'll thanke me
When you heare that I have made proud Rhodon
A Legier Embassadour in Don Pluto's Court.

Ma.
Thy thankes, Poneria, shall be duly paid
In eyebewitching talents;
Wee'll rip the matrice of our grandam earth
To see the place where riches are conceiv'd;
And from her pregnant wombe we'll draw
A golden age for thee to live in (Deare Poneria)

Po.
Who would leave any villany undone,
To be thy slave, most noble Martagon.

Exit Pone.
Cy.
Now Martagon let us goe put on armes,
And toward Hybla march in strong aray.
Let us deface the glory of their flowers,
If Rhodon be but dead, the day is ours.

[Exeunt.]