 | The Insatiate Countesse |  |
Actus secundi
Scæna prima.
Enter Roberto, Lord Cardinall, Isabella, Lady Lentvlvs, Abigal and Thais. Lights.Roberto.
My graue Lord Cardinall, we congratulate,
And zealously doe entertaine your loue:
That from your high and diuine contemplation,
You haue vouchsafde to consumate a day
Due to our Nuptials: O, may this knot you knit,
This indiuiduall Gordiant graspe of hands,
In sight of God so fairely entermixt,
Neuer be seuer'd, as heauen smiles at it,
By all the Darts shot by infernall Ioue,
Angels of grace Amen, Amen, say to't.
Faire Lady Widow, and my worthy Mistresse,
Doe you keepe silence for a wager?
Thais.
Doe you aske a woman that question my Lord,
When shee inforcedly pursues what she's forbidden?
I thinke if I had beene tyed to silence,
I should haue beene worthy the Cucking-stoole ere this time.
Rob.
You shall not be my Orator (Lady) that pleades thus
for your selfe.
My Lord, the Masquers are at hand.
Rob.
Giue them kinde entertainment. Some worthy friends
of mine, my Lord, vnknowne to mee, too lauish of their loues,
Bring their owne welcome in a solemne Masque.
Abigall.
I am glad there's Noble-men i'the Masque
With our Husbands to ouer-rule them,
They had sham'd vs all else.
Thais.
Why? for why, I pray?
Ab.
Why? marry they had come in with some Citie shew else,
Hyred a few Tinsell coates at the Vizard-makers, which would
ha'made them looke, for all world, like Bakers in their linnen
bases, and mealy vizzards, new come from bolting. I saw a shew
once at the Marriage of a Magnificero's daughter, presented by
Time: which Time vvas an olde bald thing; a seruant, 'twas the
best man; hee was a Dyer, and came in likenesse of the Raine-bow
in all manner of colours, to shew his Art, but the Raine-bow
smelt of vrine, so wee were all afraid the property was chang'd,
and look'd for a shower. Then came in after him, one that (it
seem'd) fear'd no colours, a Grocer that had trim'd vp himselfe
handsomely: hee vvas Iustice, and shew'd reasons why. And I
thinke this Grocer, I meane this Iustice, had borrowed a weather-beaten
Ballance from some Iustice of a Conduit, both vvhich
Scales were replenisht vvith the choise of his Ware,
He gaue euery woman in the roome her handfull.
Thais.
O great act of Iustice! vvell, and my Husband come
cleanly off with this, hee shall ne'er betray his weakenesse more,
but confesse himselfe a Citizen hereafter, and acknowledge their
wit, for alas they come short.
Enter in the Masque, the Count of Arsena, Mendosa, Claridiana, Torch-bearers. They deliuer the shields to their seuerall Mistresses, that is to say, Mendosa, to the Lady Lentvlvs; Claridiana, to Abigal; to Isabella, Gvido Count of Arsena; to Thais, Rogero.
Isab.
Good my Lord, be my expositer.
To the Cardinall.
Card.
The Sunne setting, a man pointing at it:
The Motto, Senso tamen ipse Calarem:
To haue felt the heate of Loue bred in your brightnesse,
But setting thus from him, by marriage,
He onely here acknowledgeth your power,
And must expect beames of a morrow Sunne.
Lent.
Lord Bridegroome, will you enterprete me?
Rober.
A sable Shield: the word, Vidua spes.
What the forlorne hope, in blacke, despairing?
Lady Lentulus, is this the badge of all your Sutors?
Lent.
I by my troth my Lord, if they come to me.
Rob.
I could giue it another interpretation. Me thinkes this
Louer has learn'd, of women, to deale by contraries: if so, then
here he sayes, the Widow is his onely hope.
Lent.
No: good my Lord, let the first stand.
Rober.
Inquire of him, and heele resolue the doubt.
Abig.
What's here? a Ship sailing nigh her hauen?
With good ware belike: 'tis well ballast.
Thais.
O, your this deuice smels of the Marchant. What's
your ships name, I pray? The forlorne Hope?
Abigall.
No: The Merchant Royall.
Thais.
And why not Aduenturer?
Abig.
You see no likelihood of that: would it not faine be
in the hauen? The word, Vt tangerem Portum.
Marry, for ought I know, God grant it. What's there?
Thais.
Mine's an Azure shield: marry what else; I should
tell thee more then I vnderstand; but the vvord is,
Aut precio, aut precibus.
Abigall.
I, I, some Common-counsell deuice.
They take the women, and dance the first change.
Mend.
Faire widow, how like you this change?
Lent.
I chang'd too lately to like any.
Mend.
O your husband! you weare his memory like a Deathshead.
For heauens loue thinke of mee as of the man
Whose dancing dayes you see are not yet done.
Lent.
Yet you sinke apace sir.
Mend.
The fault's in my Vpholsterer, Lady.
Roger.
Thou shalt as soone finde Truth telling a lye,
Vertue a Bawd, Honestie a Courtier,
Loue makes me speake, and hee makes loue diuine.
Thais.
Would Loue could make you so: but t'is his guise
To let vs surfet ere hee ope our eyes.
Abig.
You graspe my hand too hard ifaith, faire sir,
Holding her by the hand.
Clar.
Not as you graspe my hart, vnwilling wanton.
Were but my breast bare and Anatomized,
Thou shouldst behold there how thou tortur'st it:
And as Appelles limb'd the Queene of Loue,
In her right hand grasping a heart in flames,
So may I thee, fairer, but crueller.
Abig.
Well sir, your vizor giues you colour for what you say.
Clar.
Grace me to weare this fauour, 'tis a Iemme
That vailes to your eyes, though not to th'Eagles,
And in exchange giue me one word of comfort.
Abig.
I marry: I like this wooer well:
Hee'll win's pleasure out o'the stones.
The second change. Isabella fals in loue with Rogero when the changers speak.
Is.
Change is no robbery: yet in this change
Thou rob'st me of my hart, sure Cupid's here,
Disguis'd like a pretty Torch-bearer,
And makes his brand a Torch, that with more sleight
He may intrap weake women: here the sparkes
Fly as in Etna from his Fathers Anuile.
O powerfull Boy! my heart's on fire, and vnto mine eyes
The raging flames ascend, like to two Beacons,
Summoning my strongest powers, but all too late,
The Conquerour already opes the gate.
I will not aske his name.
Abig.
You dare put it into my hands.
Mend.
Zounds, doe you thinke I will not?
Abig.
Then thus, to morrow (you'll be secret, seruant.)
Mend.
All that I doe, Ile doe in secret.
Ab.
My husband goes to Mawrano to renew the Farme he has.
Men.
Well, what time goes the Iakes-farmer?
Abig.
He shall not be long out, but you shall put in, I warrant
you. Haue a care that you stand iust i'the nicke about sixe a
clocke in the euening; my Maide shall conduct you vp, to saue
Mend.
Zounds, hudwinck'd, and if you'll open all sweet Lady.
Abig.
But if you faile to doo't.
Mend.
The Sunne shall faile the day first.
Abig.
Tye this ring fast, you may be sure to know.
You'll brag of this, now you haue brought me to the bay.
Mend.
Poxe o'this Masque: would 'twere done, I might
To my Apothecaries for some stirring meates.
Tha.
Me thinkes sir, you should blush e'en through your vizor,
I haue scarce patience to dance out the rest.
Robert.
The worse my fate that plowes a marble quarry:
Primaleon yet thy Image was more kinde,
Although thy loue not halfe so true as mine.
Dance they that list, I saile against the winde.
Thais.
Nay sir, betray not your infirmities,
You'll make my Husband iealous by and by;
We will thinke of you, and that presently.
Guid.
The Spheares ne'er danc'd vnto a better tune.
Sound Musicke there.
Isab.
'Twas Musicke that he spake.
The third change ended, Ladies fall off.
Rob.
Gallants I thanke you, and
Beginne a health to your Mistresses.
3. or 4.
Faire thankes sir Bridegroome.
Isab.
He speakes not to this pledge, has he no Mistresse?
Would I might chose one for him: but't may be
Hee doth adore a brighter Starre then wee.
Rogero dances a Laualto, or a Galliard, & in the midst of it, falleth into the Brides lap, but straight leapes vp, and danceth it out.
Rob.
Sit Ladies sit, you haue had standing long.
Men.
Blesse the man: sprit'ly and nobly done.
Thais.
What, is your Ladiship hurt?
Isab.
O no, an easie fall.
Was I not deepe enough, thou God of lust,
But I must further wade? I am his now,
As sure as Iuno's Ioues, Hymen take flight,
And see not me, 'tis not my wedding night.
Exit Isabella.
Card.
The Brides departed, discontent it seemes.
Rob.
Wee'll after her. Gallants, vnmasque I pray,
And taste a homely banquet we entreate.
Exit Rob. Card. and Lights.
Candidi Ernigos I beseech thee.
Men.
Come Widow, Ile be bold to put you in.
My Lord will you haue a sociate?
Exit Thais. Lent. Abig.
Rog.
Good gentlemen if I haue any interest in you,
Let me depart vnknowne, 'tis a disgrace
Of an eternall memory.
Mend.
What the fall my Lord, as common a thing as can be,
the stiffest man in Italy may fall betweene a womans legs.
Clar.
Would I had chang'd places with you my Lord, would
it had beene my hap.
Rog.
What Cuckold laid his hornes in my way?
Signior Claridiana, you were by the Lady vvhen I fell,
Doe you thinke I hurt her?
Clar.
You could not her, my Lord, betweene the legs.
Rog.
What vvas't I fell vvithall?
Mend.
A crosse point my Lord.
Rog.
Crosse-point indeede: vvell if you loue me, let me hence vnknowne,
The silence yours, the disgrace mine owne.
Ex. Clar. & Mend.
Enter Isabella with a gilt Goblet and meetes Rogero.
Isab.
Sir, if Wine were Nectar Ile beginne a health,
To her that were most gracious in your eye,
Yet daigne, as simply 'tis the gift of Bacchus,
To giue her pledge that drinkes: this God of Wine
Cannot inflame me more to appetite,
Though he be co-supreme with mightie Loue,
Then thy faire shape.
Rog.
Zounds she comes to deride me.
Isab.
That kisse shall serue
To be a pledge although my lips should starue.
No tricke to get that vizor from his face?
Rog.
I vvill steale hence, and so conceale disgrace.
Isab.
Sir, haue you left nought behinde?
Rog.
Yes, Lady but the Fates will not permit
(As Iems once lost are seldome or neuer found)
I should conuay it vvith me. Sweete Good-night.
Shee bends to mee: there's my fall againe.
Exit.
Isab.
He's gone, that lightning that a vvhile doth strike
Leaues vs in prisoned darknesse. Lust thou art hie,
My smiles may well come from the Skye.
Anna, Anna.
Enter Anna.
Anna.
Madame, did you call?
Isab.
Follow yond stranger, prethee learne his name:
Wee may hereafter thanke him. How I doate?
Exit Anna.
Is hee not a God
That can command what other men would winne
With the hard'st aduantage? I must haue him,
Or shadow-like follow his fleeting steps.
Were I as Daphne, and he followed chase,
Though I reiected young Appolloes loue,
And like a Dreame beguile his wandring steps,
Should he pursue me through the neighbouring groue,
Each Cowslip stalke should trip a willing fall,
Till hee were mine, who till then am his thrall:
Nor will I blush, since worthy is my chance.
'Tis said that Uenus with a Satyre slept,
And how much short came she of my faire aime?
Then Queene of Loue a president Ile be,
To teach faire women learne to loue of mee.
Speake Musicke, what's his name.
Enter Anna.
Anna.
Madame, It was the worthy Count Massino.
Isab.
Blest be thy tongue: the worthy Count indeede,
The worthiest of the Worthies. Trusty Anna,
Hast thou pack'd vp those Monies, Plate, and Iewels
I gaue direction for?
Anna.
Yes, Madame, I haue trust vp them, that many
A proper man has beene trust vp for.
Isab.
I thanke thee, take the wings of night,
Beloued Secretary, and poste with them to Sweuia,
There furnish vp some stately Pallace
Worthy to entertaine the King of Loue:
Prepare it for my comming and my Loues,
Ere Phœbus Steedes once more vnharnest be,
Or ere he sport with his beloued Thetis,
Wee will set forward. Flye like the Northern winde,
Or swifter, Anna, fleete like to my minde.
An.
I am iust of your minde Madame, I am gone.
Exit An.
Isab.
So to the house of Death the mourner goes,
That is bereft of what his soule desir'd,
As I to bed, I to my nuptiall bed,
The heauen on earth: so to thought slaughters went
The pale Andromeda bedew'd with teares,
When euery minute she expected gripes of a fell monster,
And in vaine bewail'd the act of her creation.
Sullen Night that look'st with suncke eyes on my nuptiall bed,
With ne'er a Starre that smiles vpon the end,
Mend thy slacke pace, and lend the malecontent,
The hoping louer, and the wishing Bride
Beames that too long thou shadowest: or if not
In spight of thy fixt front when my loath'd Mate
Shall struggle in due pleasure for his right,
Ile think't my loue, and die in that delight.
Exit.
Enter at seuerall doores Abigal and Thais.
Abig.
Thais, you're an earely riser.
I haue that to shew will make your hayre stand an-end.
Thais.
Well Lady, and I haue that to shew you will bring your
courage downe. What would you say, and I would name a partie
saw your Husband court, kisse, nay almost goe through for the
hole?
Abig.
How, how, what would I say? nay, by this light, what
would I not doe? If euer Amazon fought better, or more at the
face then Ile doe, let me neuer be thought a new married vvife.
Come vnmasque her: 'tis some admirable creature, vvhose beautie
you neede not paint. I warrant you, 'tis done to your hand.
Thais.
Would any vvoman but I, be abused to her face?
Prethee reade the contents: Know'st thou the Character?
Abig.
'Tis my Husbands hand, and a Loue-Letter:
But for the contents I finde none in it. Has the lustfull monster,
All backe and belly-steru'd me thus? What defect does he see in
mee? Ile be sworne wench, I am of as pliant and yeelding body
himselfe. What? and dedicate to thee: I marry, here's a stile so
high, as a man cannot helpe a Dog o'er it. He was wont to write
to me in the Citie phrase, My good Abigall: here's Astonishment
of nature, vnparaleld excelency, and most vnequal raritie of creation:
Three such wordes will turne any honest woman in the world
whore: for a woman is neuer wonne till shee know not vvhat
to answere; and beshrew me if I vnderstand any of these: you
are the partie I perceiue, and here's a white sheete, that your husband
has promist me to do penance in: you must not thinke to
dance the shaking of the sheetes alone though there be not such
rare phrases in't, tis more to the matter; a legible hand, but for
the dash, or the (hee) and (as): short bawdy Parenthesis as euer
you saw, to the purpose: hee has not left out a pricke I warrant
you, wherein he has promist to doe me any good, but the Law's
in mine owne hand.
Thais.
I euer thought by his red beard hee would proue a
Iudas, here am I bought and solde; hee makes much of me indeede.
Well wench, we were best wisely in time seeke for preuention,
I should be loath to take drinke and die on't, as I am afraid
I shall that hee will lye with thee.
Abig.
To be short sweete hart, Ile be true to thee, though a
lyer to my Husband: I haue signed your Husbands bill like a
Wood-cocke as hee is held, perswaded him (since nought but
my loue can asswage his violent passions) hee should enioy, like
a priuate friend, the pleasures of my bed: I tolde him my Husband
was to goe to Mawrano to day to renew a Farme hee has,
and in the meane time hee might be tenant at will, to vse mine:
this false fire has so tooke with him, that he's rauisht afore hee
come. I haue had stones on him all red: dost know this:
Thais.
I, too vvell, it blushes for his M
r.
Points to the ring.
Abigall.
Now my Husband will be hawking about thee anon,
And thou canst meete him closely.
Thais.
By my faith I would be loath in the darke, and hee
knew mee.
Abig.
I meane thus: the same occasion will serue him too,
they are birds of a feather, and vvill flye together, I vvarrant
for Mawrano, and tell mee anone if thou mad'st not his heart-bloud
spring, for ioy, in his face.
Thais.
I conceiue you not all this while.
Abig.
Then th'art a barren woman, and no meruaile if thy
Husband loue thee not: the houre for both to come is sixe, a
dark time fit for purblinde louers; and vvith cleanly conuayance
by the niglers our maids, they shall be translated into our Bed-chambers.
Thais.
But you meane they shall come in at the backe-dores.
Abig.
Who, our Husbands? nay, and they come not in at the
fore-dores, there will be no pleasure in't. But we two will climbe
ouer our garden-Pales, and come in that vvay, (the chastest that
are in Venice vvill stray for a good turne) and thus vvittily vvill
wee be bestowed, you into my house to your husband, and I
into your house to my husband, and I vvarrant thee before a
month come to an end, they'll cracke louder of this nights-lodging,
then the Bed-steads.
Thais.
All is if our Maids keepe secret.
Abig.
Mine is a Maid Ile be sworne, shee has kept her secrets
hitherto.
Thais.
Troath, and I neuer had any Sea-captaine borded in
my house.
Abig.
Goe to then: and the better to auoid suspition,
Thus wee must insist, they must come vp darkling, recreate
themselues with their delight an houre or two, and after a million
of kisses, or so.
Thais.
But is my husband content to come darkling?
Abig.
What not to saue mine honour? hee that vvill runne
through fire, as hee has profest, will by the heate of his loue,
grope in the darke. I warrant him he shall saue mine honour.
Thais.
I am afraid my voyce vvill discouer mee.
Abig.
Why then, you're best say nothing, and take it thus
quietly when your husband comes.
Thais.
I, but you know a vvoman cannot chuse but speake
in these cases.
Bite in your neather-lip, and I vvarrant you,
Or make as if you were vvhiffing Tobacco;
Or puich like me. Gods-so, I heare thy Husband.
Exit.
Thais.
Farewell vvise-woman.
Enter Mizaldvs.
Mizal.
Now gins my vengeance mount high in my lust:
'Tis a rare creature, shee'll do't i'faith;
And I am arm'd at all points. A rare whiblin,
To be reueng'd, and yet gaine pleasure in't,
One height aboue reuenge: yet vvhat a slaue am I,
Are there not younger Brothers enough, but vve must
Branch one another? oh but mine's reuenge,
And who on that does dreame
Must be a Tyrant euer in extreame.
O my Wife Thais get my Breakefast ready,
I must into the Country to a Farme I haue
Some two miles off, and, as I thinke,
Shall not come home to night. Iaques, Iaques,
Get my Vessell ready to row me downe the Riuer.
Prethee make haste Sweet girle.
Exit Mizal.
Thais.
So, there's one foole shipt away: are your crosse-points
discouer'd? Get your Breake-fast ready!
I haue beene too sparing of that you prodigally offer
Voluntary to another: well you shall be a tame foole hereafter.
The finest light is when vve first defraud;
Husband to night 'tis I must lie abroad.
Exit.
Enter Isabella and a Page with a Letter.
Isab.
Here, take this Letter, beare it to the Count:
But Boy, first tell me; think'st thou I am in loue?
Page.
Madame, I cannot tell.
Isab.
Canst thou not tell? Dost thou not see my face?
Is not the face the Index of the minde?
And canst thou not destinguish Loue by that?
Page.
No Madame.
Isab.
Then take this Letter and deliuer it
Vnto the worthy Count. No, fie vpon him,
That same's a Loue-letter?
Page.
I doe not thinke so Madame.
Isab.
I know thou dost: for thou dost euer vse
To hold the wrong opinion. Tell me true,
Dost thou not thinke that Letter is of Loue?
Page.
If you vvould haue me thinke so Madame, yes.
Isab.
What dost thou thinke thy Lady is so fond?
Giue me the Letter, thy selfe shall see it.
Yet I should teare it in the breaking ope,
And make him lay a wrongfull charge on thee;
And say thou brok'st it open by the vvay;
And saw vvhat haynous things I charge him vvith:
But 'tis all one, the Letter is not of loue,
Therefore deliuer it vnto himselfe,
And tell him hee's deceiu'd, I doe not loue him.
But if he thinke so bid him come to me,
And Ile confute him straight; Ile shew him reasons,
Ile shew him plainely why I cannot loue him.
And if he hap to reade it in thy hearing,
Or chance to tell thee that the vvordes vvere sweet,
Doe not thou then disclose my lewde entent,
Vnder those Syren vvordes, and how I meane
To vse him vvhen I haue him at my vvill:
For then thou wilt destroy the plot that's laid,
And make him feare to yeeld vvhen I doe vvish
Onely to haue him yeeld; for vvhen I haue him,
None but my selfe shall know how I vvill vse him.
Be gone, why stayest thou? yet returne againe.
Page.
I Madame.
Isab.
Why dost thou come againe? I bad thee goe.
If I say, Goe, neuer returne againe.
Exit Page.
My bloud, like to a troubled Ocean,
Cuff'd vvith the Windes, incertaine where to rest,
Buts at the vtmost share of euery limbe.
My Husband's not the man I vvould haue had:
O my new thoughts to this braue sprightly Lord,
Where vvas my minde before, that refin'd iudgement,
That represents rare obiects to our passions?
Or did my lust beguile me of my sence?
Making me feast vpon such dangerous cates,
For present want, that needes must breede a surfeit:
How was I shipwrackt? yet Isabella thinke
Thy Husband is a noble Gentleman, young, wise,
And rich: thinke what Fate followes thee,
And nought but lust doth blinde thy worthy loue:
I will desist. O no, it may not be.
Euen as a head-strong Courser beares away
His Rider, vainely striuing him to stay.
Or as a sodaine gale thrusts into Sea
The Hauen-touching Barke, now neare the lea:
So wauering Cupid brings me backe againe,
And purple Loue resumes his Darts againe:
Here of themselues, thy shafts come as if shot:
Better then I thy quiuer knowes'em not
Enter Count Arsena, and a Page.
Page.
Madame: the Count.
Rog.
So fell the Troian wanderer on the Greeke,
And bore away his rauisht prize to Troy:
For such a beautie, brighter then his Dana.
Ioue should (me thinkes) now come himselfe againe:
Louely Isabella, I confesse me mortall:
Not worthy to serue thee in thought, I sweare,
Yet shall not this same ouer-flow of fauour
Diminish my vow'd dutie to your beauty.
Isab.
Your loue, my Lord, I blushingly proclaime it,
Hath power to draw me through a wildernesse,
Wer't arm'd with Furies, as with furious Beasts.
Boy, bid our Traine be ready, wee'll to horse.
Ex. Page.
My Lord, I should say something, but I blush,
Courting is not befitting to our sexe.
Rog.
Ile teach you how to woo,
Say you haue lou'd me long,
Was neuer tuned vnto a wooing-string;
Yet formy sake you will forget your sexe,
And court my Loue with strain'd Immodestie,
Then bid me make you happy with a kisse.
Is.
Sir, though women doe not woo, yet for your sake,
I am content to leaue that ciuill custome,
And pray you kisse mee.
Rog.
Now vse some vnexpect vmbages,
To draw me further into Uulcanes Net.
Isab.
You loue not mee so well as I loue you.
Rog.
Faire Lady, but I doe.
Isab.
Then shew your loue.
Rog.
Why in this kisse I shew't, and in my vowed seruice,
This wooing shall suffice, 'tis easier farre
To make the current of a siluer-brooke
Conuert his flowing backeward to his Spring,
Then turne a woman wooer. There's no cause
Can turne the setled course of Natures Lawes.
Isab.
My Lord, will you pursue the plot?
Rog.
The Letter giues direction here for Pauie.
To horse, to horse: thus once Eridace,
With lookes regardiant, did the Thracian gaze,
And lost his gift, while he desir'd the sight.
But wiser I, lead by more powerfull charme;
Ide see the world winne thee from out mine arme.
Exeunt.
Enter at seuerall doores, Claridiana and Gvido.
Gui.
Zounds, is the Huritano comming? Claridiana what's the matter?
A trampling of Horses heard.
Clar.
The Countesse of Sweuia has new taken horse.
Flye Phœbus, flye, the houre is sixe a clocke.
Guid.
Whither is shee going Signior?
Clarid.
Euen as Ioue went to meete his simile.
To the Diuell I thinke.
Guido.
You know not wherefore?
Clar.
To say sooth I doe not.
So in immortall wise shall I ariue.
Guid.
At the Gallowes. What in a passion Signior?
Zounds, doe not hold me sir:
Beautious Thais, I am all thine wholy.
The staffe is now aduancing for the Rest,
And when I tilt, Mizaldus aware thy Crest.
Exit.
Enter Roberto, in his Night-gowne, and Cap, with Seruants, hee kneeles downe.
Guid.
What's here? the capring Cods-head tilting in the aire?
Rob.
The Gods send her no Horse, a poore olde age.
Eternall woe, and sicknesse lasting rage.
Guid.
My Lord, you may yet o'er-take'em.
Rob.
Furies supply that place, for I will not: no,
Shee that can forsake mee when pleasure's in the full,
Fresh and vntir'd, what would she on the least barren coldnes?
I warrant you she has already got
Her Brauoes, and her Ruffians: the meanest whore
Will haue one buckler, but your great ones more.
The shores of Sicilie retaines not such a Monster,
Though to Galley-slaues they daily prostitute.
To let the Nuptiall Tapers giue light to her new lust,
Who would haue thought it?
Shee that could no more forsake my company,
Then can the day forsake the glorious presence of the Sunne.
When I was absent, then her galled eyes
Would haue shed Aprill showers, and out-wept
The clouds in that same o'er-passionate moode:
When they drown'd all the world, yet now forsakes me:
Women your eyes shed glances like the Sunne:
Now shines your brightnesse, now your light is done.
On the sweetest Flowers you shine, 'tis but by chance,
And on the basest Weede you'll waste a glance.
Your beames once lost can neuer more be found:
Vnlesse we waite vntill your course runne round,
(And take you at fist hand.) Since I cannot
Enioy the noble title of a man,
But after-ages, as our vertues are
Buryed whilst we are liuing, will sound out
My infamie, and her degenerate shame;
And, like a dead man, to the world bequeath
These houses of vanitie, Mils, and Lands.
Take what you will, I will not keepe among you Seruants,
And welcome some religious Monasterie,
A true sworne Beads-man Ile hereafter be,
And wake the morning cocke with holy prayers.
Ser.
Good my Lord: noble Master.
Rob.
Disswade me not, my will shall be my King;
I thanke thee Wife, a faire change thou hast giuen,
I leaue thy lust to woo the Loue of Heauen.
Exit cum seruis.
Guid.
This is conuersion, is't not? as good as might haue beene,
He turnes religious vpon his Wiues turning Curtezan.
This is iust like some of our gallant Prodigals,
When they haue consum'd their Patrimonies wrongfully,
They turne Capuchins for deuotion,
Exit.
| The Insatiate Countesse | |