The third Scœne.
Enter Ciceley and Bellamie in one anothers clothes.
Cice.
I hope y'are satisfied: but to what end this change
should serve, I would faine be instructed.
Bella.
I'le tell you. When we fear'd pursuit, we left our
horses, and the high way. The horses are surely found; and
by them my being hereabouts may bee conjectur'd. Now
this disguise shall helpe me to scape their search.
Cice.
Now out upon't. Had I no better an opinion of
your honestie, then of your wit (both which smell all together
of the countrey) I would againe leave you to seeke out
your owne danger. You have gentle-fide mee with your
clothes; and you are handsome enough in mine: for though I
am but a milke-wench, I ever lov'd neatnesse. Now you shall
personate my maid, and wait upon me to London; I'le personate
you, and if any thing rise from the mistake, wee'l turne
it to the best use. If I finde not out your sweet-heart, let me
never be counted a Prophetesse: and I am sure I have foretold
weather from the turning up of my Cowes tayle.
Bella.
Dispose me as you please, I dare the worst
Of my malicious. Now love hath arm'd me
With better resolution.
Cice.
In this disguise Ile meet the Gallant courts me every
morning at Tottenham-Court, and sound the depth of his
pretended honest meaning. My condition is to low to win
upon his desires to marry me: and the other thing without
it, he shall never have.
Within.
Why Cicely, Ciceley, I say my breakfast A quick
supply of meat, drinke and sleepe, or I rage presently.
Bella.
Blesse me, who's that?
Cice.
My fathers man.
Bella.
Hee'l spoyle all.
To them Slipp hastily.
Cice.
Be you confident.
Slip.
Where's this Maggoti-pie of Marrowbone? Come
you cleane wash't chitterling, and give mee my breakfast.
How now Ciceley, where hath your face beene? at the painters?
Hay-day; Ciceley's owne face, and this Mistris dye
for love Ciceley-fide. Now I sweare by hunger (and that's
a strong oath) I thinke women have more fegaries then the
Divel would have Clients, if he were a Lawyer and pleaded
without fees.
Cice.
Keepe counsell sirrah you had best; and if my father
aske for mee, tell him I will not bee lost long. So fare
you well.
Exeunt.
Slip.
You will not bee lost long: hee is likely to have a
sweet match of it that finds you. Yet I could be content my
seaven yeares service might bee so rewarded. But the baggage
is as coy as an Aldermans eldest daughter: shee hath
beaten me a hundred times (coward as I was for suffering
it) for attempting to kisse her. But now I will revenge
it upon her Creame-bowles; over whose sweets I will
triumph.
