University of Virginia Library

Scena tertia,

Enter Attilia, Maid to Mistresse Victoria, with Pamphila, Maid to Mistres Virginia, and Medusa the Enchantresse with her box of enchantments vnder her arme.
Victoria.
Departe Fedele for this time, come to me soon at night,
I will consider better of your plaint and heauie plight.
My maid and other company dooth prease into this place:
It were not good to make them all, acquainted with your case.

Fedele.
A thousad thankes, this in your ear, let that the token bee,

Exit.
Victoria.
I knowe your meaning Sir, farwell, referre the rest to mee.
Alas poore soule, he little knowes, how colde a sute he hathe,
He must be dallied with a while, for fear of after scathe.

Attilia.
And must you seek Fedele out?

Pamphila.
I must.

Attilia.
But to what end?

Pamphila,
To craue of curtesie, that he would stand my Mistres freend.

Attilia.
Mistres Virginia:

Pamphila
The same.

Attilia.
In what matter I pray.

Pamphila
Thats counsaile vnto you, I must not euery thing bewray.
And yet by her, so bitter is the taste of looue, I finde:
That gall were sweeter to the mouth, and better to the minde.

Atillia.
I haue the Hare on foot.

Pamphila
But knowe you where Fedele is?

Attilia.
Him at his house, or walking in the street you shall not misse.

Pamphila
Farewell, I will goe seek him straight.

Exit.
Attilia.
Yet finde him not too soon:
Alas poore soule, her sute is colde before it be begun,
Loe heer the common fault of looue, to followe her that flyes:
And flye from her that makes pursuite, with loud lamenting cryes.
Fedele looues Victoria, and shee hath him forgot:
Virginia likes Fedele best, and hee regardes her not.

Medusa.
O foolish looue, and loouers that look not to theire state,
But swimme against the tide, and then repent when tis too late.
If wee could learne to seek to them, that vnto vs doo sue:
The match were made, and wee should haue no cause at all to rue.
When wee be coy, and holde our freendes aloofe at cap and knee:
The Mart is marde, and euery eye our folly then dooth see.

Victoria.
What talke you there Attilia?

Attilia.
No hurt at all to you.

Victoria.
What newes?

Attilia.
Good, sweet, and ioyfull newes, Mistres I bring you now.

Victoria.
Hast thou met with Fortunio?

Attilia.
Not so.

Victoria.
Then what's the newes?

Attilia.
As I was walking through the streets alone:
Deuising how to finde a remedie to cure your mone,
I met Medusa with her box and trinckets as you see:
Whose cunning shortly shall deuise, the way to set you free.

Victoria.
No way without Fortunio.

Attilia.
Fortunio you shall haue:
Be not afraid therfore in this: this womans aide to craue.
Shee can enchant, and woorke wunders, by Magicks learned art:
Shee can with woordes, with charmes and hearbes, giue you Fortunioes hart.
Make much of her.

Victoria.
Ah foole, I knowe that looue is such a passion of the minde:
As neither Ayrye Sprites can rule, nor force of Magick binde.

Attilia.
Yet trye her cunning, sith that I haue brought her into place,

Victoria.
Medusa, will thy drugges procure a pining loouer grace?

Medusa.
Mistres, they will.

Victoria.
Open thy box and let me see thy store:
Let me haue that shall pleasure me, Ile pay thee well therfore.

Medusa.
Heer is an Egge of a black Hen, a quill pluckt from a Crowe,
Who with this pen writes on this Egge, a charme yt I doo knowe
And names the party whome they like: the same shall looue again,
What think you of this remedye?

Attilia.
This remedye is vain.
Look farther yet into your box, some other medicin prooue:
Because my Mistres cares not for the single iuice of looue.
She craueth more, shee must enioy the party shee desires:

Victoria.
Fye, holde thy peace.

Attilia.
Els hath shee not the thing that shee requires.

Medusa.
Loe heer a spoonfull of a Virgins milke,
Incorporated with a peece of dowe:
Powdred with cinders of fine Spanish Silke,
And steeped in the licquor of a Slowe.
On thone side write Venus and Cupids name:
On thother his that loou'd, then take the same
And broyle it on the coales vnto a crust,
Basting it well with hony dropes and oyle:
Giue it to him you looue, to kindle lust,
And then your sute shall neuer suffer foyle.
This will so binde the gallant whome you choose:
That he shall nere him selfe heerafter loose.

Attilia.
All this is to no purpose, yet me thinks you are too wide:
What pleasure can my Mistres haue so long as he is tied?

Victoria.
Shee meanes not tied in hand or foot, but bound to be my slaue:
In all the seruices and duties that I mean to craue.

Medusa.
Heere are two hartes, the one was taken out of a black Cat:
The other from a Pigion: heer is the blood of a Batte.
Heere is a peece of Uirgin waxe, heers an inchaunted Bean,
To make you goe inuisible,

Victoria,
You knowe not what I mean.

Attilia.
These thinges are prety, but they are not for my Mistres fit,
For if she be inuisible, I pray what profits it?
She shall beholde the man, whome shee delighteth moste to see:
But beeing hid: she neuer can enioye his companye.
Yet shewe vs more.

Medusa.
Heer's thinges will make men melt in fittes of looue,
A wanton Goates braine, and the Liuer of a purple Dooue.
A Cockes eye, and a Capons spurre, the left legge of a Quaile:
A Goose bill, and a Ganders tung, a mounting Eagles tayle.
But sith they must be taken in thincreasing of the Moone:
Before the rising of the Sun, or when the same is down.
And closely wrapt in Uirgin parchement on a Fryday night:
I will not trouble you with these.

Victoria.
Of more lets haue a sight.

Medusa.
Heer is the Image of a man, made out in Uirgin waxe,
Which beeing prickt, or toasted in the flame of burning Flaxe.
Hee that you looue shall come and throwe him selfe before your feet:
More humble then a Lambe, to doo what you shall think is meet.

Victoria.
O that is it.

Attilia.
This is it must doo my Mistres good:
By Images it must be wrought, Looue is a holy Rood.

Medusa.
Wee must withdrawe our selues aside, and woork it out of sight:

Victoria.
Enter my house, the Sun is set, & now begins the night.

Exeunt
The first Act beeing ended, the Consorte of Musique soundeth a pleasant Galliard.