 | The Maid of Honovr |  |
Scene. II.
Signior Sylli. walking fantastically before, followed by Camiola and Clarinda:Camiola.
Nay Signior, this is too much ceremony in my owne house.
Sylli.
VVhat's gratious abroad, must be in private practis'd.
Clar.
For your mirth-sake
Let him alone, he has beene all this morning
In practice with a perugd Gentleman vsher,
To teach him his true amble and his postures,
Sylli walking by, and practising his postures.
VVhen he walkes before a Lady
Syll.
You may, Madame,
Perhaps, beleeve that I in this use art,
To make you dote upon mee by exposing
My more then most rare features to your view.
But I as I have ever done, deale simply,
A marke of sweet simplicity ever noted
I'the family of the Syllies. Therefore Lady,
Looke not with too much contemplation on mee,
If you doe, you are i'the suds.
Camil.
You are no Barber?
Sylli.
Fie no, not I, but my good parts have drawne
More loving hearts out of faire Ladies bellies,
Cam.
Is't possible?
Sylli.
Yes, and they live too, marry much condoling
The scorne of their Narcissus, as they call mee,
Because I love my selfe.
Cam.
VVithout a rivall;
What philtres or love-powders doe you use
To force affection? I see nothing in
Your person, but I dare looke on, yet keepe
My owne poore heart still.
Sylli.
You are warn'd, be arm'd,
And doe not lose the hope of such a husband
In being too soone enamour'd.
Clar.
Hold in your head,
Or you must haue a martingale.
Sylli:
I have sworne
Neuer to take a wife, but such a one
(O may your Ladiship prove so strong) as can
Hold out a moneth against mee.
Cam
Never feare it,
Though your best taking part, your wealth were trebl'd
I would not wooe you. But since in your pitty
You please to give me caution, tell me what
Temptations I must flye from?
Sylli.
The first is
That you never heare mee sing, for I am a Syri.
If you observe, when I warble, the dogs howle
As ravish'd with my D tties, and you will
runne mad to heare mee.
Cam.
I will stop my eares,
And keepe my little wits.
Sylli.
Next when I dance
And come aloft thus, cast not a sheepes eye
Vpon the quivering of my calfe.
Cam.
Proceed, Sir,
Sylli.
But on no termes, for 'tis a maine point, dreame not
With any porter.
Cami.
I meane not to ride you,
Cam.
Nor I your little Ladiship, 'till you have
Perform'd the Covenants. Be not taken with
My prettie spider fingers, nor my eyes,
That twinckle on both sides.
Cami.
Was there ever such
One knocks.
A piece of motlie heard of! who's that? you may spare
The Catalogue of my dangers.
Exit Clarinda.
Syl.
No good Madam,
I have not told you halfe.
Cami.
Enough good Signior,
If I eate more of such sweete meats, I shall surfet.
Who is't?
Enter Clarinda.
Clar.
The brother of the King.
Syl.
Nay start not,
The brother of the King! is he no more?
Were it the King himselfe, I'll give him leave
To speake his mind to you, for I am not jealous,
And to assure your Ladyship of so much,
I'll usher him in, and that done, hide my selfe.
Exit Syl.
Cami.
Camiola if ever, now be constant
This is indeed a sutor, whose sweet presence,
Courtship and loving language would have stagger'd
The chast Penelope. And to increase
The wonder, did not modestie forbid it
I should aske that from him, he sues to me for;
And yet my reason like a tyran, tells me
I must nor give, nor take it.
Syl.
I must tell you
Enter Sylli, and Bertoldo.
You loose your labour. 'Tis enough to prove it,
Signior Sylli came before you, and you know
First come first seru'd yet you shall have my countenance
To parley with her and I'l take speciall care
That none shall interrupt you
You are courteous.
Syl.
Come wench wilt thou heare wisedome?
Clar.
Yes from you Sr.
Steps aside kisseth her.
Ber.
If forcing this sweet favour from your lips
Faire Madam, argue me of too much boldnesse
When you are pleas'd to understand, I take
A parting kisse, if not excuse, at least
'Twill qualifie the offence.
Cami.
A parting kisse Sr.?
What Nation envious of the happinesse
Which Sicilie enjoyes in your sweet presence,
Can buy you from her? or what Climate yeeld
Pleasures transcending those which you injoy here,
Being both belou'd and honor'd. The North-star
And guider of all hearts, and to summe up
Your full accompt of happinesse, in a word,
The brother of the King.
Ber.
Doe you alone,
And with an unexampl'd cruelty,
Inforce my absence, and deprive me of
Those blessings, which you with a polish'd phrase
Seeme to insinuate, that I doe possesse,
And yet tax me as being guilty of
My wilfull exile? what are Titles to me?
Or popular suffrage? or my neerenesse to
The King in blood? or fruitfull Sicilie,
Though it confess'd no Soveraigne but my selfe,
When you that ate the essence of my being.
The anchor of my hopes; the reall substance
Of my felicity, in your disdaine
Turne all to fading and deceiving shaddowes?
Cami.
You tax me without cause.
Ber.
You must confesse it.
But answer love with love, and seale the contract
In the vniting of our soules, how gladly
(though now I were in action, and assur'd,
Would make her glorious stand upon my tent)
Would I put off my armour, in my heate
Of conquest, and like Anthonie pursue
My Cleopatra! will you yet looke on me
With an eye of Favour?
Cami.
Truth beare witnesse for me,
That in the Iudgement of my Soule, you are
A man so absolute, and circular
In all those wish'd-for rarities, that may take
A Virgin captive, that though at this instant
All sceptr'd Monarches of our Westerne world
Were rivalls with you, and Camiola worthy
Of such a competition, you alone
Should weare the ghirlond.
Ber.
If so, what diverts
Your Favour from me?
Cami.
No mulct in your selfe,
Or in your person, mind or fortune.
Ber.
What then?
Cami.
The Consciousnesse of mine owne wants. Alas Sr.
We are not parallells, but like lines divided
Can nere meete in one Centre, your Birth Sir
(Without addition) were an ample Dowrie
For one of fairer Fortunes, and this shape,
Were you ignoble, far above all value;
To this, so cleare a mind, so furnish'd with
Harmonious faculties, moulded from heaven,
That though you were Thersites in your features
Of no descent, and Irus in your fortunes,
Ulisses like you would force all eyes, and eares
To love, but seene, and when heard, wonder at
Your matchlesse story. But all these bound up
Together in one Volume, give me leave
With admiration to looke upon 'em,
But not presume in my owne flattering hopes,
I may or can injoy 'em.
Ber.
How you ruine.
What you would seeme to build up! I know no
Disparitie betweene vs, you are an heyre
And every way my equall.
Cami.
Sir excuse me,
One aerie with proportion, nere discloses
The eagle and the wren tissue, and freese
In the same garment monstrous: But suppose
That what's in you excessive, were diminish'd,
And my desert supply'd, the strongest bar,
Religion stops our Entrance, you are Sir
A Knight of Malta, by your order bound
To a single life, you cannot marrie me,
And I assure my selfe you are too noble
To seek me (though my frailtie should consent)
In a base path.
Ber.
A dispensation Lady
Will easiely absolve me.
Cami.
O take heed Sr.
When, what is vow'd to heaven, is dispens'd with,
To serve our ends on earth, a curse must follow,
And not a blessing.
Ber.
Is there no hope left me?
Cam.
Nor to my selfe, but is a neighbour to
Impossibility: true love should walke
On equall feete, in vs it does not Sir.
But rest assur'd, excepting this, I shall be
Devoted to your service.
Ber.
And this is your
Determinate sentence?
Cami.
Not to be revok'd.
Ber.
Farewell then fairest cruell. All thoughts in me
Of Women perish. Let the glorious light
Of noble war extinguish loves dimne taper
That onely lends me light to see my follie;
Honor, be thou my everliving Mistresse,
And fond affection as thy bond-slave serve thee.
Exit Ber:
Cam.
How soone my Sun is set: He being absent,
Never to rise againe! what a fierce battaile
Is fought betweene my passions! me thinkes
We should haue kiss'd at parting.
Syl.
I perceive.
He has his answer, now must I step in
To comfort her, you have found, I hope, sweet Lady,
Some difference between a youth of my pitch,
The Kings brother is no more: good parts will doe it,
When Titles faile, despaire not, I may be
In time intreated.
Cam.
Be so now to leave mee,
Lights for my chamber, O my heart!
Exeunt Camiola, & Clarinda.
Sylli.
She now
I know is going to bed to ruminate
Which way to glut her selfe upon my person,
But for my o th-sake I will keepe her hungry,
And to grow full my selfe, I'll straight to supper.
Exit.
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