University of Virginia Library

The fourth Scœne.

Enter Lady and Dorothy by the middle Scœne.
Lady.
You see how my obedient youth
Hath joyn'd it selfe with an unequall mate;
Your aged father, onely to satisfie
The Provident will of Parents. Doe you so.
Fortune hath made me now your Mother.
Had nature don't, my care could not be greater,
Nor more my providence to dipose your good.

Doroth.
Mother, the duty which I owe my Father
You (being his) must share: and this expression
Of more then common love, I must repay
With more then common gratitude.

Lady.
Then tell me,
Now time hath given your age perfection;
Your roses are full blowne, and fit for gathering,
Doe you not long for a husband?

Doro.
Not with much earnestnes: I have as yet
No passionate desires; as yet no breath
Poyson'd with Hyperbolicall flatteries
Hath courted my poore beauty; no deep vowes
Have paid idolatrous sacrifice of service
To my faire hand, whose whitenes if but kis't
Can purifie a soule. Beleeve me yet
The man's a stranger to my knowing memory
That ever said he lov'd me.

Lady.
But take heed:
There are a sort of fond effeminate men,
Deepe studied in discoursive complement,
That many times will wast more ayery language
To take a sollemne leave, then would make up
A Citty Oratour.
Beware that no such oyle-tongu'd amorist
Sigh forth his passions in thy credulous eares,
And captivate thy weaknesse. 'Tis their practise
To glory in diversity of Mistrisses:
And when one frownes or chides their over-daring
With a repulse, will not stick to revenge it
With a foule defamation of her honour.

Susan.

Neither can a Gentleuman be in love now and
then out she is censur'd.

La.
Let not thine eares drink in their Rhetorick charms,
Lest they bewitch thy glorious understanding
To dote on their pretences, which perhaps
Shall be chast love for it's Creations end:
When but their covetous hopes preferre a portion
Before your beauty, birth or education;
And yet perhaps there is disparitie
'Twixt lower fortunes, and their weake desert.
Deceit's a cunning baud, and many times
Makes vertue prostitute it selfe to misery.

Doroth.
There is a power
Call'd Fate, which doth necessitate the will,
And makes desire obedient to it's rule.
All the resisting faculties of reason,
Prevention, feare and jealousie are weake
To disanull what in it's firme decrees
Is once determin'd. Yet my heart is free;
Vnbounded by the stricter limits of
Particular affection: so I'le keepe it.
No proud ingratefull man shall ever triumph
O're the captiv'd sweets of my Virgin love.
Nor a vain-glorious gull that offers service
To every noted beauty, boast my favour.
I'le cloath my thoughts in humorous observation;
And if on any that sollicits love
I fixe a liking, I'le refer my selfe
To what is destin'd for me.

Lady.
The resolution's noble; I commend it.