 | The Loyal Svbiect |  |
Scæne 2.
Enter Olimpia, and two Gentlewomen.Olim.
Is't not a handsome wench?
2. Wom.
She is well enough Madam:
I have seen a better face, and a straiter body,
And yet she is a pretty Gentle-woman..
Olim.
What thinkst thou Petesca?
Petes.
Alas, Madam, I have no skill, she has a black eye,
Which is of the least too and the dullest water:
And when her mouth was made, for certaine Madam,
Nature intended her a right good stomach.
24
She has a good hand.
2 Wom.
'Tis good enough to hold fast.
And strong enough to strangle the neck of a Lute.
Olim.
What thinke ye of her colour?
Petes.
If it be her owne
'Tis good black bloud: right weather-proofe
I warrant it.
2 Wom.
What a strange pace she has got?
Olim.
That's but her breeding.
Petes.
And what a manly body? me thinks she looks
As though she would pitch the Barre, or goe to Buffets.
2 Wom.
Yet her behaviour's utterly against it,
For me thinks she is too bashfull.
Olim.
Is that hurtfull?
2 Wo.
Even equall to too bold: either of 'em Madam
May doe her injurie when time shall serve her.
Ol.
You discourse learnedly, cal in the wench.
Ex. Gent.
What envious fooles are you? Is the rule generall,
That women can speak handsomely of none,
But those they are bred withall?
Petes.
Scarce well of those Madam,
If they believe they may out-shine 'em any way:
Our natures are like oyle, compound us with any thing,
Yet stil we strive to swim o'th' top:
Suppose there were here now,
Now in this court of Mosco, a stranger Princesse,
Of bloud and beauty equall to your excellence,
As many eyes and services stuck on her;
What would you think?
Olim.
I would thinke she might deserve it.
Petes.
Your grace shall give me leave not to believe ye;
I know you are a woman, and so humourd:
Ile tell yee Madam, I could then get more gownes on ye,
More caps & feathers, more scarfs, & more silk stockings,
With rocking you a sleep with nightly railings
Upon that woman, then if I had nine lives
I could weare out: by this hand ye'would scratch her eyes out.
Olim.
Thou art deceiv'd foole;
Enter Gentlewom. and Alinda.
Now let your own eyes mock ye.
Come hither girle: hang me & she be not a handsom one.
Petes.
I feare it will prove indeed so.
Olim.
Did you ever serve yet
In any place of worth?
Alin.
No Royall Lady.
Petes.
Hold up your head; fie.
Olim.
Let her alone, stand from her.
Alin.
It shall be now,
Of all the blessings my poore youth has pray'd for,
The greatest and the happiest to serve you;
And might my promise carrie but that credit
To be believ'd, because I am yet a stranger,
Excellent Lady, when I fall from dutie,
From all the service that my life can lend me,
May ever-lasting miserie then finde me.
Olim.
What think ye now? I doe believe, and thank ye;
And sure I shall not be so farre forgetfull,
To see that honest faith die unrewarded:
What must I call your name?
Alin.
Alinda Madam.
Olim.
Can yee sing?
Al.
A little, when my griefe will give me leave, Lady.
Olim.
VVhat griefe canst thou have wench?
Thou art not in love?
Al.
If I be Madam, 'tis onely with your goodnesse;
For yet I never saw that man I sighed for.
Olim.
Of what yeares are you?
Al.
My mother oft has told me,
That very day and houre this land was blest
With your most happy birth, I first saluted
This worlds faire light: Nature was then so busie,
And all the Graces to adorne your goodnesse,
I stole into the world poore and neglected.
Olim.
Something there was, when I first look'd upon thee,
Made me both like and love thee: now I know it;
And you shall find that knowledge shall not hurt you:
I hope ye are a Maid?
Al.
I hope so too, Madam;
I am sure for any man: and were I otherwise,
Of all the services my hopes could point at,
I durst not touch at yours.
Flourish. Enter Duke, Burris, and Gent.
Pet.
The great Duke, Madam.
Duk.
Good morow, sister.
Olim.
A good day to your highnesse.
Duk.
I am come to pray you use no more perswasions
For this old stubborne man: nay to command ye:
His saile is swell'd too full: he is grown too insolent,
Too self-affected, proud: those poore slight services
He has done my father, and my self, has blowne him
To such a pitch, he flyes to stoop our favours.
Olim.
I am sorry sir: I ever thought those services
Both great and noble.
Bur.
However, may it please yee
But to consider 'em a true hearts servants,
Done out of faith to you, and not selfe-fame:
But to consider royall sir, the dangers;
When you have slept secure, the mid-night tempests,
That as he marcht sung through his aged locks;
When you have fed at full, the wants and famines;
The fires of heaven, when you have found all temperate,
Death with his thousand doores—
Duk.
I have consider'd;
No more: and that I will have, shall be.
Olim.
For the best,
I hope all still.
Duk.
What handsome wench is that there?
Olim.
My servant, sir.
Du.
Prethee observe her Burris.
Is she not wondrous handsome? speak thy freedome.
Bur.
Shee appeares no lesse to me sir.
Duk.
Of whence is she?
Ol.
Her father I am told is a good gentleman,
But farre off dwelling: her desire to serve me
Brought her to th'Court, & here her friends have left her.
Du.
She may find better friends:
Ye are welcome faire one,
I have not seen a sweeter: By your Ladies leave:
Nay stand up sweet, we'll have no superstition:
You have got a servant; you may use him kindly,
And he may honour ye:
Good morrow sister.
Exit Duke and Burris.
Ol.
Good morrow to your Grace. How the wench blushes?
How like an Angel now she looks?
1. VVom.
At first jumpe
Jumpe into the Dukes armes? we must look to you,
Indeed we must, the next jump we are journeymen.
Pet.
I see the ruine of our hopes already,
Would she were at home againe, milking her fathers cows
1 Wo.
I feare shee'll milke all the great Courtiers first.
Olim.
This has not made yee proud?
Al.
No certaine, Madam.
Ol.
It was the Duke that kist yee.
25
'Twas your brother,
And therefore nothing can be meant but honour.
Ol.
But say he love ye?
Al.
That he may with safety:
A Princes love extends to all his subjects.
Ol.
But say in more particular?
Al.
Pray feare not:
For vertues sake deliver me from doubts, Lady:
'Tis not the name of King, nor all his promises,
His glories, and his greatnesse stuck about me,
Can make me prove a Traitor to your service:
You are my Mistris, and my noble Master,
Your vertues my ambition, and your favour
The end of all my love, and all my fortune:
And when I faile in that faith—
Ol.
I beleeve thee,
Come wipe your eyes; I doe: take you example—
Pets.
I would her eyes were out.
1 Wom.
If the winde stand in this doore,
We shall have but cold custome: some trick or other,
And speedily.
Petes.
Let me alone to think on't,
Ol.
Come, be you neare me still.
Al.
With all my duty.
Exeunt.
| The Loyal Svbiect | |