 | The Magnetick Lady :or, Hvmors Reconcil'd |  |
Scene IV.
Polish. Keepe. Compasse.Pol.
Out thou catife witch!
Baud, Beggar, Gipsey: Any thing indeed,
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Kee.
What you please, Dame Polish,
My Ladies Stroaker.
Com.
What is here to doe?
The Gossips out!
Pol.
Thou art a Traytor to me,
An Eve, the Apul, and the Serpent too:
A Viper, that hast eat a passage through me,
Through mine owne bowels, by thy retchlesnesse.
Com.
What frantick fit is this? Ile step aside
And hearken to it.
Pol.
Did I trust thee, wretch,
With such a secret, of that consequence,
Did so concerne me, and my child, our livelihood,
And reputation? And hast thou undone us?
By thy connivence, nodding in a corner,
And suffering her begot with child so basely?
Sleepie unlucky Hag! Thou bird of night,
And all mischance to me.
Kee.
Good Lady Empresse!
Had I the keeping of your Daughters clicket
In charge? was that committed to my trust?
Com.
Her Daughter.
Pol.
Softly Divell, not so low'd,
You'ld ha' the house heare, and be witnesse, would you?
Kee.
Let all the world be witnesse. Afore Ile
Endure the Tyrannie of such a tongue—
And such a pride—.
Pol.
What will you doe?
Kee.
Tell truth,
And shame the She-man-Divell in puff'd sleeves;
Run any hazzard, by revealing all
Vnto my Lady: how you chang'd the cradles,
And chang'd the children in 'hem.
Pol.
Not so high!
Kee.
Calling your Daughter Pleasance, there Placentia,
And my true Mistris by the name of Pleasance.
Com.
A horrid secret, this! worth the discovery;
Pol.
And must you be thus lowd?
Kee.
I will be lowder:
And cry it through the house, through every roome,
And every office of the Lawndry-maids:
Till it be borne hot to my Ladies eares.
Ere I will live in such a slavery,
Ile doe away my selfe.
Pol.
Didst thou not sweare
To keepe it secret? and upon what booke?
(I doe remember now) The Practice of Piety.
Kee.
It was a practice of impiety,
Out of your wicked forge, I know it now,
My conscience tels me. First, against the Infants,
To rob them o' their names, and their true parents;
T'abuse the neighbour-hood, keepe them in errour;
But most my Lady: Shee has the maine wrong:
And I wil let her know it instantly.
Repentance, (if it be true) nere comes too late.
Pol.
What have I done? Conjur'd a spirit up
I sha' not lay againe? drawne on a danger,
And ruine on my selfe thus, by provoking
A peevish foole, whom nothing will pray of,
Or satisfie I feare? Her patience stirr'd,
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On a sweet Rock, by mine owne arts, and trust:
And must get off againe, or dash in peeces.
Com.
This was a busines, worth the listning after.
| The Magnetick Lady :or, Hvmors Reconcil'd | |