University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter Donusa, Manto.
Donusa.
When said he, he vvould come againe?

Manto.
He swore,
Short Minutes should be tedious Ages to him,
Vntill the tender of his second seruice,
So much he seemde transported with the first.

Donu.
I am sure I was. I charge thee Manto tell me
By all my fauors, and my bounties truely
Whether thou art a Virgin, or like me
Hast forfeited that name.

Manto.
A Virgine Madame?
At my yeeres being a wayting-woman, and in Court to?
That were miraculous. I so long since lost
That barren burthen, I almost forget
That euer I was one.

Donu.
And could thy friends
Reade in thy face, thy maidenhead gone, that thou
Hadst parted with it?

Manto.
Noe indeed. I past
For currant many yeeres after, till by fortune,
Long and continewed practise in the sport
Blew vp my decke, a husband then was found out
By my indulgent father, and to the world
All was made whole againe. What neede you feare then
That at your pleasure may repayre your honour
Durst any enuious, or malitious tongue,
Presume to taint it?

Donu.
How now?

Enter Carazie.
Cara.
Madam, the Basha
Humbly desires accesse.

Donu.
If it had beene
My neate Italian, thou hadst met my vvishes.
Tell him we would be priuate.

Cara.
So I did,
But he is much importunate.

Manto.
Best dispatch him
His lingring heere else will deter the other,
From making his approch.

Donu.
His entertainement
Shall not inuite a second visit, goe
Say we are pleasde.

Enter Mustapha.
Musta.
All happinesse.

Donu.
Bee suddaine
T'was sawcie rudenesse in you sir to presse
On my retirements, but ridiculous folly
To vvast the time that might be better spent
In complementall vvishes.

Cara.
There's a coolling
For his hot encounter.

Donu.
Come you heere to stare?
If you haue lost your tongue, and vse of speech,
Resigne your gouernment, there's a mutes place voyde
In my vncles Court I heare, and you may worke me
To vvrite for your preferment.

Musta.
This is strange!
I know not Madam, what neglect of mine
Has calde this scorne vpon me.

Donu.
To the purpose
My will's a reason, and we stand not bound
To yeeld account to you.

Must.
Not of your angers,
But with erected eares I should heare from you
The story of your good opinion of me
Confirmde by loue, and fauours.

Donu.
How deseru'd?
I haue consider'd you from head to foote,
And can find nothing in that waynscote face,
That can teach me to dote, nor am I taken
With your grimme aspect, or toadepoole-like complexion,
Those scarres you glorie in, I feare to looke on;
And had much rather heare a merrie tale
Then all your battayles wonne with blood and sweate,
Though you belch forth the stincke too, in the seruice,
And sweare by your Mustachios all is true.
You are yet too rough for me, purge and take physicke,
Purchase perfumers, get me some French taylor,
To new create you; the first shape you were made with
Is quite worne out, let your barbar wash your face too,
You looke yet like a bugbeare to fright children,
Till when I take my leaue, wayte me Carazie.

Exeunt Donu. Car.
Must.
Stay you my Ladies Cabinet key.

Mant.
How's this sir?

Must.
Stay and stand quietly, or you shall fall else,
Not to firke your belly vp flounder like, but neuer
To rise againe. Offer but to vnlocke
These dores that stop your fugitiue tongue (obserue me)
And by my fury, I'll fixe there this bolte
To barre thy speech for euer. So, be safe now
And but resolue me, not of what I doubt
But bring assurance to a thing beleeu'd,
Thou mak'st thy selfe a fortune, not depending
On the vncertaine fauours of a Mistresse,
But art thy selfe one. I'll not so far question
My iudgement, and obseruance, as to aske
Why I am slighted, and contemnde, but in
Whose fauour it is done. I that haue read
The copious volumes of all womens falsehood,
Commented on by the heart breaking groanes
Of abusde louers, all the doubts washde off
With fruitlesse teares, the Spiders cobweb vayle
Of arguments, alleadge in their defence,
Blowne off with sighs of desperate men, and they
Appearing in their full deformitie:
Know that some other hath displanted me,
With her dishonor. Has she giuen it vp?
Confirme it in two sillables?

Manto.
She has.

Musta.
I cherish thy confession thus, and thus,
giues her iewels.
Bee mine, againe I court thee thus, and thus
Now prooue but constant to my ends.

Manto.
By all—

Must.
Enough, I dare not doubt thee. O land Corcodiles
Made of Ægyptian slime, accursed women!
But tis no time to rayle: come my best Manto.

Exeunt