 | The Soddered Citizen |  |
Scæna secunda
Enter Wittworth.Minio:
Hould fondlinge thy vnnecessarie Chatt,
for heere your Minion comes—
Witt:
Ladies excuse my bould intrusion,
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T'is not dislik[e]'d, nor soe misconstred Sr.,
Minio:
You might haue sent (yett) to haue knowne or. pleasures,
Witt:
Blame [my affeccōn] then faire Ladies, [and the] the attractiue force
of your rare beauties (yours espetially) (turne to Mod:)
[That as the Leadestone iron, or the wheele]
[of the Sunnes chariott, gathers in 'its course]
[The vapours Trashe, from the fowle earth beneath,]
[Which soe ta'ne vpp, turnes into flame, and then]
[fflashes and [[illeg.]]is extinct, oh lett not nowe]
[Like as an angry and an iniur'd fire]
[Imprison'd in the Cavorns of the earth]
[Breakeinge perforce a passage, mounts & Covetts]
[T'imbrace his proper Element aboue]
[Soe labours my affection, Lett not nowe]
Yor. heavenly sweetenes (since it has inforct mee
A Vassall to yor. service) by refusall,
Or a dislike, suffer mee blaze my last,
[Like a sweete Lampe, when it becomes a snuffe]
[Poysoninge the sent, that even nowe seru'd ye. sight,]
[ffor soe vnsavoury, and disrelishinge,]
[Must be the overthrowe (meethink's) of mee,]
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ffor my prsumption, in attemptinge thus
Soe farr aboue my meritt,—
Minio:
Sr. Reverence Love!
Mod:
Misvalue not yor. selfe, nor iniure mee
Whoe ever honoured yor worth,, & you,
As farr as faire Civilitie gaue way,
Yt suits not wt h a womans modestie,
O're hastely to blason her affections,
Nor haue I nowe,—what, did I saie I lou'd you?
But whie, theis vndigested, needles questions?
[Like as an angrie, and [in] an iniur'd fyer,]
[Imprison'd in the Cavorns of the earth,]
[Breakeinge ≼force a passage, mounts, & covetts]
[To imbrace his proper element aboue:]
[Soe] Cupids fierce flame, that had heere residence,
Sorely rebellinge, that it was restrain'd
Crackinge my heart strings, that had pynion'd it,
Is nowe broake loose, yet nobly it desires
Nought but right, chaste imbracemt s., such as suite
With Virgine modestye, and manly worth,
Minio:
What strumpett impudence,? what greedie itch?
Makes the fond Wench, to courte the fellowe thus?
Witt:
Ladie, my owne dispaire, and your high spiritt,
Wittworth whispers & parts from Mod: & addresses him in most humble man̄er to Miniona
(which I adoare you for) haue hitherto
Queld my affection, and meere wante of arte
Which nowe I haue practiz'd on yond' property,
Stop'd mee, from prostrateinge, my lowly service,
To mingle wt h the dust, that gladly cleaves,
beneath yor. foote,—
Mayde.
See. Madame the Scæ[a]ne turnes,?
Minio:
What medley's heere of pride, and humblenes,
I like thee prostrate, but thy loue's vnsavoury,
fflocke wt h thy equalls, & the feathered birds,
of thy lowe Ranke, and quallitie,
Witt:
I thought as much, I haue my doome, Ile dye
With eager gladnes, shee com̄aunds it soe.,
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One such another word strik's my soule dead.,
Maide.
Good Madame, cast him not awaye, you may
Haue Lords fleshe by the belly. full, & thank's,
When you are marryed, if you chance to longe;
Mod:
Oh mankinde falsehood!
Minio:
Howe Im̄odestie?
Wilt thou inforce affection, where it scornes thee?
Whie dost thou loue mee Wittworth, tell mee?
Witt:
Aske that of him, whoe is bereaved of sight,
Whose eyelidded Portcullices are downe,
Keepeinge the force of that yor beautye out,
from seiseinge on his hearte (despight of him)
As it's Inheritance.,
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Thou shalt finde mee mercifull,
[Witt:
What dastardie is this?]
[That hath thus cheated, my couragious spiritts?]
[And frozen vpp my lively sparkes of valour?]
[I durst to march, against a Groave of Pykes,]
[Vpp to a Canons mouth, vndaunted on,]
[Yett see howe aspine feare do's mortifie mee,]
[I dare not be soe bould, to thinke, you loue mee,]
[Such is yor. excellence, soe meane my meritt.,]
[Minio:]
I shalbee gratious, saie then, in what Garbe
Wilt thou supporte mee?
Witt:
Balme to my wound, & Cordiall to my feaver,
Ile rayse my ffarmelike howses, and erect
One stately Pallace, and it shalbee hem'd
With Leopard Marble, & that hallowed ground
(that shalbe thus inclosed) Noe Peasants foote
shall dare to tread, none but gentiele attendance
shall waite vppon yor. person, from yor. Turretts
you shall (if you'le vouchsafe) behould those people
Whoe are your Tennant drudges, & then they
shall kneele wt hout, whilst you looke on aboue,
(As Pagans to the glorious Sunns, ariseinge,)
Then when you please, to purifie the ayre
with yor. more fragrant breath, or ells vouchsafe
To shewe yor. selfe att Church, Tenn stately horses
Shall drawe yor. Croach, embos'd wt h studds of gold,
And then the people, shall refuse to pray,
Offeringe their zealous vowes, as an oblacōn
Toth'shrine of yor most heavenly excellencye.,
Mod:
Oh I am rob'd, and rifled—
Maide.
Howe I pray?
Of what you never had?
Minio:
But then those Horses, that on Holydayes,
growe proude to drawe mee thus, at other tymes
Shall not be soe disparag'd, to be sett
To plowe your grounde, nor harrowe in yor. traces,
Nor shall your Carter bee my Coachman, nor
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Nor shall they be dull, Country, footepost fellowes,
But of the swiftest Irishe, Lastly weel'e spend
All our Revenewes, soe that when wee dye
Wee'le even wt h the world, our Children, bounde
To Cittie Trades, shall labour like my ffather,
Gettinge newe fortunes, for themselues, & their
succeedinge yssue;
Witt:
To theis Condicōns I subscribe with ioye
past your Imaginacōn,
Minio:
Come then be amorous, I finde mee yeildinge,
Witt:
Out prostituted Impudence,
Whome a faire glosse of a fewe pleasinge words
fillinge the sailes of yor. ambitious thoughts,
34
Not much vnlike a newe vnballanc't Shipp,
Wantonly tolteringe, on the prowder billowes,
Till angrie att her pride, they swallowe her quick,
Minio:
Howe Peasant?
Witt:
Take patterne Mynion, by this modestie,
Heer's virtue, safely castled, in the hearte,
Guarded wt h zeale, moted with heavenly thoughts,
Noe superficiall Vanitie allures it,
Noe pride has reference to't, & then yor. beautie,
wc h is your Idoll, would disparage this
Sett as a foyle to't,
Minio:
My beautye's blasted too, by's venemous breath,
I'me rightly serv[e]'d, Thus to debase my selfe,
bowinge my pretious eare, to his lewd Chatt,
But sure hee knewe, when I'ad (advisedly)
satt in Comission, t'wixt my worth, his basenes
I had Cashier'd him, yett revenge is due
Ile overflowe him with a Sea of gall,
Maide.
Well, well I saie,
[I saie] there are rodds in Bryne, will yerke for this,
Mod:
Wee haue plaid the Tyraunts, Sr.,
Somewhat sevearely with her pride (mee think's)
Witt:
Yet t'is not cur'd you see, but Hidra like,
Yt sprowts, wt h more increase, but wee spill tyme
And cast away our thoughts, on such a subiect,
Soe deare, & pretious, is yor. peereles presence,
I'me to Elizium ravisht with content,
Heere, heere a while, Ile breath my breathles soule,
Kisse, then her hand
Outed of breath at over ioye, theis veynes
Heavenly azur'd (though of passage small)
I doe beeseech to carrie home this kisse,
To the Idea of my essence, plac'd
Even in the inmost Clossett of your hearte,
| The Soddered Citizen | |