University of Virginia Library

Scene. IJI.

Mere-craft. Wittipol. to them.
Wittipol is drest like a Spanish Lady.
Mer.
Here is a noble Lady, Madame, come,
From your great friends, at Court, to see your Ladi-ship:
And haue the honour of your acquaintance.

Tay.
Sir.
She do's vs honour.

Wit.
Pray you, say to her Ladiship,
Excuses him selfe for not kissing.
It is the manner of Spaine, to imbrace onely,
Neuer to kisse. She will excuse the custome!

Tay.
Your vse of it is law. Please you, sweete, Madame,
To take a seate.

Wit.
Yes, Madame. I'haue had
The fauour, through a world of faire report
To know your vertues, Madame; and in that
Name, haue desir'd the happinesse of presenting
My seruice to your Ladiship!

Tay.
Your loue, Madame,
I must not owne it else.

Wit.
Both are due, Madame,
To your great vndertakings.

Tay.
Great? In troth, Madame,
They are my friends, that thinke 'hem any thing:
If I can doe my sexe (by 'hem) any seruice,
I'haue my ends, Madame.

Wit.
And they are noble ones,
That make a multitude beholden, Madame:
The common-wealth of Ladies, must acknowledge from you.

Eit.
Except some enuious, Madame.

Wit.
Yo'are right in that, Madame,
Of which race, I encountred some but lately.
Who ('t seemes) haue studyed reasons to discredit
Your businesse.

Tay.
How, sweet Madame.

Wit.
Nay, the parties
Wi'not be worth your pause—Most ruinous things, Madame,
That haue put off all hope of being recouer'd
To a degree of handsomenesse.

Tay.
But their reasons, Madame?
I would faine heare.

Wit.
Some Madame, I remember.
They say, that painting quite destroyes the face—

Eit.
O, that's an old one, Madame.

Wit.
There are new ones, too.
Corrupts the breath; hath left so little sweetnesse
In kissing, as 'tis now vs'd, but for fashion:
And shortly will be taken for a punishment.
Decayes the fore-teeth, that should guard the tongue;
And suffers that runne riot euer-lasting!
And (which is worse) some Ladies when they meete
Manly begins to know him.
Cannot be merry, and laugh, but they doe spit
In one anothers faces!

Man.
I should know
This voyce, and face too:

VVit.
Then they say, 'tis dangerous
To all the falne, yet well dispos'd Mad-dames,
That are industrious, and desire to earne
Their liuing with their sweate! For any distemper
Of heat, and motion, may displace the colours;
And if the paint once runne about their faces,
Twenty to one, they will appeare so ill-fauour'd,
Their seruants run away, too, and leaue the pleasure
Imperfect, and the reckoning als' vnpay'd.

Eit.
Pox, these are Poets reasons.

Tay.
Some old Lady
That keepes a Poet, has deuis'd these scandales.

Eit.
Faith we must haue the Poets banish'd, Madame,
As Master Either-side saies.

Mer.
Master Fitz dottrel?
And his wife: where? Madame, the Duke of Drown'd-land,
That will be shortly.

VVit.
Is this my Lord?

Mer.
The same.