 | The Queen, or The Excellency of Her Sex |  |
Act II.
Enter Shaparoon and Mopas.Shap.
And as I said (nay pray my
friend be covered) the business hath
been soundly followed on my part.
Yet again, in good sooth, I cannot abide
you should stand bare before me to so
little purpose.
Mop.
Manners is a Jewel (Madam) and
as for standing bare, I know there is som
difference, the putting down of a mans
cap, and the putting down of his breeches
before a reverend gentlewoman.
Shap.
You speak very properly, there
is a great deal of difference indeed. But
to come to the point; Fy, what a stir
I had to make her to receive the letter,
and when she had received it, to open it,
and then to read it; nay, to read it again
and again; that as I am a very woman,
a man might have wrong my smock
dropping wet, with the purse sweat that
came from my body. Friend, I took such
pains with her. Oh my conscience, to
bear a child at those years would not
trouble me half so much as the delivery
of that letter did.
Mop.
A man-child of my age perhaps,
Madam, would not.
Shap.
Yet that were a sore burthen
for one that is not us'd to't, I may tell
you. O these coy girles are such wild
cattel to have dealing with.
Mop.
What ancient Madams cannot
do one way, let them do another; she's
a rank Jade that being past the breeder,
cannot kick up her heels, wince, and
cry wee-hee: good examples cannot
chuse from ones elders, but work much
to the purpose, being well ply'd, and in
season.
Shap.
In season? True, that's a chief
thing; yes, I'll assure you my friend, I
am but entring into eight and twenty.
Mop.
Wants somwhat of that too, I
take it; I warrant ye your mark appears
age, as plain as when you were but fifteen.
Shap.
Truly, if it were well searcht,
I think it does.
Your name is Mopas, you told me?
Mop.
Mopas my name is, and yours
Madam Shaparoon I was told.
Shap.
A right Madam born I can assure
ye.
Mop.
Your Ancestors will speak that,
for the Shaparoons have ever took place
of the best French-hoods in the parish;
ever since the first addition.
Shap.
All this with a great deal of modesty
I must confess. Ud's Pittikins, stand
by, aside a little: see where the lady coms;
do not appear before you are call'd, in
any case: but mark how I will work
her like wax.
Enter Salassa reading a letter.
Salas.
Your servant in all commands
Velasco. So, and I am resolved to put
ye to the test, servant, for your free fools
heart, e're I give you the slip, I warrant
ye.
Shap.
Your ladyship hath considered
the premises e're this time, at full, I
hope.
Salas.
O, Shaparoon, you keep true sentinel,
what? I must give certain answer;
must I not?
Shap.
Nay, Madam, you may chuse,
'tis all in your Ladiships discreet consideration.
The sum of all is, that if you
shew him not some favour, he is no long
lives man.
Salas.
Very well; how long have you
been a factress for such Merchants, Shaparoon.
Shap.
O my Religion! I a factress? I
am even well enough serv'd for my good
will; and this is my requital. Factress,
quoth you?
Salas.
Come, your intercession shall
prevail, which is his letter carrier?
Mop.
At your ladiships service.
Salas.
Your Lord Velasco sent you?
Mop.
Most true, sweet madam.
Salas.
What place hold you about
him?
Mop.
I am his Drugster, Madam.
Salas.
What Sir?
Mop.
Being hard bound with melancholy,
I give him a purge, with two or
three soluble stools of laughter.
Salas.
Belike you are his fool, or his
jester.
Mop.
Jester if you please, but not fool,
Madam; for bables belong to fools, and
they are then onely fit for ladies secresies,
not for Lords.
Salas.
But is he indeed sick of late?
Shap.
Alas good heart, I suffer for
him.
Enter Lodovico.
Lodov.
By your leave lady, without
ceremony, you know me, and may guess
my errand.
Salas.
Yet more trouble, nay, then
I shall be hail-shor.
Lodov.
To be brief. By the honors of
a good name, you are a dry-skinn'd widow,
and did not my hast concern the
life of the noblest Gentleman in Europe,
I would as much scorn imployments
of this nature to you, as I do a
proud woman of your condition.
Mop.
I marry here's one will thunder
her widow-head into flitters: stand
to't, Signior, I am your second.
Salas.
Sir y'are uncivil to exclaim against
a lady in her own house.
Lodov.
A lady, yet a paraquitto, popingjay,
your whole worth lies in your
gay out side, and your squawling
tongue.
A Wagtail is a glorious fowl in respect
of many of ye.
Though most of ye are in nature as very
fowl as wagtayles.
Salas.
Are such as you the Lord Velasco's
agents in his hot affection?
Shap.
Sweet cousen, Lodovico, pray
now, the lady is most vertuously resolved.
Mop.
Heark ye middle-ag'd countess,
do not take anothers tale into your
mouth, I have occasion to use you
in private, and can finde you work
enough my self, a word in your ear.
Salas.
I protest, I meant more noble
your railing language shall force from
me.
Lodov.
Were I the man that doated
on you, I would take a shorter course
with you, then to come humbly whining
to your sweet—pox of all such ridiculous
foppery—I would—
Salas.
Weep your self to death, and be
chronicled among the regiment of kinde
tender hearted souls.
Lodov.
Indeed, forsooth, I would not;
what, for a widdow one that hath jumpt
the old moyles trot, so oft, that the sciatica
founders her yet in both her
thighs.
Salas.
You abuse me grosly.
Lodov.
One that hath been so often
drunk with satiety of pleasure, that fourteen
husbands are but as half a draught
to quench her thurst in an afternoon.
Salas.
I will no longer endure ye.
Lodov.
For you, you? That are neither
noble, wise, rich, fair, nor wel-favoured.
For you?
Mop:
You are all these, if you can
keep your own counsel and let no body
know, Mistris Madam.
Shap.
Nay I am so perswaded, and assure
your self no body shall know.
Lodov.
Yet forsooth, must you be the
onely precious piece the Lord Velasco
must adore, must dye for. But I vow,
if he do miscarry, (as I fear he cannot
recover.)
Salas.
Goodness forbid, Alas! Is he
sick, sir?
Lodov.
Excellent dissimulation! Yes
sure, he is sick, and an everlasting silence
strike you dumb that are the cause on't.
But, as I said, if he do go the wrong
way, as I love vertue, your ladiship
shall be ballated through all Christendom,
and sung to sciroy tunes, and your
picture drawn over every ballad, sucking
of rotten eggs among wheasels.
Salas.
Pray give me leave; Is Lord
Velasco sick? And lies there ought in me
to comfort, or recover him?
Lodov.
Marry does there, the more Infidel
he: And what of all this now?
Salas.
What would you have me do?
Lodov.
'Wonders, either go and visit
him, or admit him to visit you; these
are mighty favours are they not?
Salas.
Why, good Sir, I will grant the
later willingly; he shall be kindly welcom.
Lodov.
And laught at while he is here:
shall a not?
Salas.
What would you have me say?
My best entertainment shall be open to
him; I will discourse to him freely, if
he requires it privately: I will be all
what in honour I should.
Lodov.
Certifie him so much by letter.
Salas.
That cannot stand with my modesty,
my word and truth shall be my
gage.
Lodov.
Enough, do this, and by this
hand I'll ask you pardon for my rudeness,
and ever heartily honour you.
Map.
I shall hear from you when my
leasures serves.
Shap.
Most assuredly. Good destines
speed your journey.
Mop.
All happiness ride ever before
you, your disgraces behinde you, and
and full pleasure in the midst of ye.
Exeunt.
Enter Bufo in fresh apparel, ushering Herophil.
Her.
My over kinde, Captain, what
would you say?
Buf.
Why, Mistris, I would say, as a
man might say forsooth, indeed I would
say.
Her.
What, Captain?
Buf.
Even whatsoever you would
have me to say, forsooth.
Her.
If that be all, pray say nothing.
Buf.
Why look ye, Mistris, all what I
say if you mark it well, is just nothing;
As for example, To tell you that you
are fair, is nothing, for you know it
your self; to say you were honest, were
an indignity to your beauty, and upon
the matter nothing, for honesty in a fair
woman is as good as nothing.
Her.
That is somwhat strange to be
proved.
Buf.
To a good wit, dear Mistris, nothing's
impossible.
Sure the Court and your new
clothes have infected you: Would I
were a purse of gold, for your sake, Captain,
to reward your wit.
Buf.
I would you were, mistris, so
you were not counterfeit metal, I should
soon try you on the too true touchstone
of my affections, indeed forsooth.
Her.
Well, witty Captain, for your
love I must pass away in debt, but will
not fail to think on't. But now I am
in hast.
Buf.
If you would but grant me but
one poor request, before you go, I should
soon dispatch and part.
Her.
Name it, Captain.
Buf.
Truly, and as I live, 'tis a very
small triffle for your part, all things considered.
Her.
But cannot you tell what it is?
Buf.
That were a fine jest indeed,
why, I would desire, intreat, and beseech
you.
Her.
What to do?
Buf.
There you have it, and thank you
too.
Her.
I understand you not.
Buf.
Why, To do with you, forsooth,
to do with you.
Her.
To do what?
Buf.
In plain words, I would commit
with you, or as the more learned phrase
it, if you be pleased to consent, I would
ravish you.
Her.
Fy, fy, Captain, so uncivil, you
made me blush.
Buf.
Do I say; why, I am glad I have
it for you: Souldiers are hot upon service,
mistris, and a wise mans bolt is
soon shot; as the proverb says:
Her.
Good Captain, keep up your bolt
till I am at leasure to stand fair for your
mark. If the Court Stalions prove all
so rank, I will vow all to ride henceforth
upon an ass; so, Captain, I must
leave you.
Exit Herophil.
Buf.
Fare-wel heartily to you forsooth.
Go thy waies for as true a Mistris as ever
fowled clean Napary. This same whorson
Court diet, cost, lodging, change of
clothes, and ease, have addicted me
villanously to the itch of concupiscence.
Enter Alphonso; Pynto and Muretto complementing on either side of him.
Alph.
They all shall not intreat me.
Muret.
Your Majesty were no King,
if your own will were not your own
law.
Pyn.
Always, my Lord, observing the
domination of the Planets: As if Mars
and Venus being in conjunction, and
their influence working upon your frailty;
then in any case you must not resist
the motion of the celestial bodies.
Muret.
All which (most gracious Soverain)
this most famous Scoller will
at a minute foretel.
Buf.
All hail to the King himself, my
very good Liege, Lord, and most gratious
benefactor.
Alph.
What need I other counsellors then these.
Shall I be forc't to be a womans slave?
That may live free, and hate their fickle sex.
Muret.
O 'tis a glorious vertue in so
magnificent a Prince to abstain from the
sensual surfets of fleshly and wanton appetites.
Alph.
I finde the inclination of such follies.
Why, what are women?
Buf.
Very pleasant pretty necessary
toys, an't please your Majesty; I my self
could pass the time with them, as occasion
migh serve, eight and forty hours out
right, one to one alwaies provided.
Pyn.
Yet of all the seven planets,
there are but two women among them,
and one of them two is chast, which is
as good as if shee were a boy.
Muret.
That is not to be questioned;
the best of women are but troubles and
vexations, 'tis man that retains all true
perfection, and of all men your Majesty.
Enter Almada and Collummello.
Alph.
Ye are to rude to enter on our privacies,
Alm.
We came from your most vertuous
Queen.
Alph.
No more.
Col.
A month is well nigh past, and yet you slack
Your love to her: What mean you, sir, so strangely
To slight a wife whose griefs grow now too high,
For womanhood to suffer.
Alm.
Is't your pleasure
To admit her to your bosom?
Alph.
Y'are too sawcy.
Return, and quickly too, and tell her thus;
If she intend to keep her in our favour,
Let us not see her.
Col.
Say you so, Great Sir;
You speak it but for tryal
All.
Ha, ha, ha.
Col.
O, Sir, remember what you are, and let not
The insinuations of these servile creatures,
Made onely men by you, sooth and traduce
Your safety to a known and willful danger.
Fix in your thoughts the ruine you have scap't;
Who freed you; who hath rais'd you to this height,
And you will then awake your judgments eye:
The Commons murmur, and the streets are fill'd
With busie whispers: Yet in time recal
Your violence.
Alph.
As I am King, the tongue
Forfeits his head that speaks another word.
Muretto, Talk we not now like a King?
Muret.
Like one that hath the whole
World for his proper Monarchy, and it
becomes you Royally.
Enter Queen, Petruchi, and Herophil.
Buf.
The Queen, and my Mistris; O
brave, we shall have some doings hard
to hand now, I hope.
Alph.
What means the woman? Ha! Is this the duty
Of a good wife, we sent not for you, did we?
Qu.
The more my duty that I came unsent for;
Wherein my gratious Lord have I offended?
Wherein have I transgrest against thy laws
O sacred Marriage? To be sequestred
In the first spring and April of my joys
From you, much dearer to me, then my life?
By all the honour of a spotless bed,
Shew me my fault and I will turn away,
And be my own swift executioner.
Alph.
I take that word. Know then you married me
Against my will, and that's your fault
Qu.
Alas! Against your will? I dare not contradict
What you are pleased to urge. But by the love
I bare the King of Arragon, (an oath
As great as I can swear by) I conceiv'd
Your words to be true speakers of your heart,
And I am sure they were; you swore they were.
How should I but beleeve, that lov'd so dearly?
Alph.
Come then you are a trifler, for by this
I know you love me not.
Qu.
Is that your fear?
Why la now, Lords, I told you that the King
Made our division but a proof of faith.
Kinde husband, now I'm bold to call you so;
Was this your cunning to be jealous of me
So soon? We women are fine fools
To search mens pretty subtilties.
Muret.
You'l scarce finde it so
Aside.
Alph.
She would perswade mee
strangely.
Qu.
Prethee, Sweet heart,
Force not thy self to look so sadly; troth
It sures not with thy love, 'tis well. Was this
I fear'd you had been in earnest.
Alph.
Earnest: Hence
Monstrous enchantress, by the death I owe
To Nature, thou appear'st to me in this
More impudent then impudence, the tyde
Of thy luxurious blood is at the full;
And cause thy raging plurisie of lust
Cannot be sated by our royal warmth,
Thou tri'st all cunning petulent charms to raise
A wanton devill up in our chast brest.
But we are Canon-proof against the shot
Of all thy arts.
Qu.
Was't you spoke that, my Lord?
Pyn.
Phaeton is just over the orb of
the moon, his horses are got loose, and
the heavens begin to grow into a combustion.
Alph.
I'll sooner dig a dungeon in a mole-hill,
And hide my crown there, that both fools and children
May trample o're my Royalty, then ever
Lay it beneath an antick womans feet.
Couldst thou transhape thy self into a man,
And with it be more excellent then man
Can be; yet since thou wer't a woman once,
I would renounce thee.
Petr.
Let the King remember
It is the Queen he speaks too.
Alph.
Pish, I know
She would be well contented but to live
Within my presence; not for love to me,
But that she might with safety of her honour,
Mix with some hot vein'd letcher, whose prone lust
Should feed the rank impostume of desires,
And get a race of bastards, to whose birth
I should be thought the Dad. But thou, thou woman,
E're I will be the cloak to thy false play,
I'll couple with a witch, a hag; for if
Thou canst live chast, live by thy sel like me.
Or if thou wouldst perswade me that thou lov'st me,
See me no more, never. From this time forth
I hate thy sex; of all thy sex, thee worst.
Exit Alphonso, Bufo, Pynto.
Alm.
Madam, dear Madam, yet
Take comfort, time will work all for the best
Qu.
Where must I go?
Col.
Y'are in your own Kingdom, 'tis your birth-right,
We all your Subjects; not a man of us,
But to the utmost of his life, will right
Your wrongs against this most unthankful King.
Qu.
Away, ye are all Traytors to profane
His sacred merits with your bitter terms.
Why, am I not his Wife? A wife must bear
Withal what likes her Lord t'upbraid her with,
And yet 'tis no injustice. What was't he said?
That I no more should see him, never, never.
There I am quite divorst from all my joys,
From all my paradice of life. Not see him?
'Twas too unkinde a task. But he commanded
I cannot but obey. Where's Herophil?
Her.
Here Madam.
Qu.
Go hang my Chamber all with mourning black;
Seal up my windows, let no light survey,
The subtle tapers that must eye my griefs.
Get from me Lords, I will defie ye all,
Y'are men, and men (O me) are all unkinde.
Come hither Herophil, spread all my robes,
My jewels and apparel on the floor,
And for a Crown get me a Willow wreath:
No, no, that's not my colour, buy me a veil
And none can pitty me.
Petr.
By all the faith
I ow to you my soveraign, if you please
To enjoy me any service, I will prove
Most ready and most true,
Qu.
Why should the King
Despise me? I did never cross his will,
Never gainsaid his, yea; yet sure I fear
He hath some ground for his displeasure.
Her.
None,
Unless because you sav'd him from the
block.
Qu.
Art thou a pratler too? Peace, Herophil,
Tempt not a desperate woman. No man here
Dares do my last commends to him.
Muret.
If your excellent Majesty
please to repose confidence in me; I will
not onely deliver him your commendations,
but think my self highly dishonored,
if he return not his back to you by
letter.
Petr.
Off beast, made all of baseness, do not grieve
Calamity, or as I am a knigh,
I'll cut thy tongue out.
Muret.
Sweet Signior, I protest—
Exit Muretto.
Petr.
Madam, beleeve him not, he is a Parasite;
Yet one the King doth dote on.
Qu.
Then beshrew ye,
You had not us'd him gently, had I known't,
I would have kneell'd before him, and have sent
A handful of my tears unto the King.
Away, my Lords, here is no place to revel
In our discomfits. Herophil, let's hast,
That thou and I may heartily like widows
Bewail my bridal mockt Virginity.
Col.
Let's follow her my lords; I fear to late
The King will yet repent these rude divisions.
Exeunt.
Enter Velasco, Lodovico, Mopas.
Lodov.
Complement? 'Tis for Barbors
shops; know your own worth, you
speak to a frail commodity; and barter't
away roundly, my Lord.
Velas.
She promis'd free discourse?
Lodov.
She did: Are ye answer'd?
Enter Salassa, Shaparoon.
Shap.
Madam, my Lord Velasco is
come, use him nobly and kindly, or—
I say no more.
Salas.
To a poor widow's house my
Lord is welcom.
Your lordship honours me in this favor;
in what thankful entertainment I
can, I shall strive to deserve it.
Shap.
Your sweet lordship is most
heartily welcom, as I may say.
Mop.
Instead of a letter, Madam goodface,
on my Lord's behalf, I am bold to
salute you.
Lodov.
Madam Salassa, not distrusting
the liberty you granted, now you and
my Lord are in you own house, we will
attend yee in the next room; Away,
Couzen; follow, sirrah.
Shap.
It is a woman part to come behinde.
Mop.
But for two men to pass in before
one woman, 'tis too much a conscience;
on reverend antiquity.
Exit Lodovico, Shaparoon, Mopas.
Salas.
What is your lorships pleasure?
Velas.
To rip up
A story of my fate. When by the Queen
I was imploy'd against the late Commotioners,
(Of whom the now King was chief Leader) then
In my return you pleas'd to entertain me
Here in your house.
Salas.
Much good may it do your
lordship.
Velas.
But then, what conquest gain'd I by that conquest,
When here mine eyes, and your commanding beauty
Made me a prisoner to the truest love,
That ever warm'd a heart.
Salas.
Who might that be?
Velas.
You, Lady, are the deity I adore,
In such a debt of service, that my life
Is tenant to your pleasure.
Salas.
Phew, my Lord;
It is not nobly done to mock me thus.
Velas.
Mock you? Most fair Salassa, if e're truth
Dwelt in a tongue, my words and thoughts are twins.
Salas.
You wrong your honor in so mean a choise.
Can it be though, that that brave man, Valasco,
Sole Champion of the world, should look on me?
On me, a poor lone Widow? 'Tis impossible.
Valas.
I am poorer
In my performance now, then ever; so poor,
That vows and protestations want fit credit
With me to vow the least part of a service
That might deserve your favour.
Salas.
You are serious?
Velas.
Lady, I wish that for a present tryal,
Against the custome of so sweet a nature,
You would be somwhat cruel in commands.
You dare not sift the honor of my faith
By any strange injunction, which the speed
Of my glad undertaking should not cheerfully
Attempt, or perish in the sufferance of it.
Salas.
You promise Lordly.
Velas.
You too much distrust
The constancy of truth.
Salas.
It were unnoble,
On your part to demand a gift of bounty,
More then the freedom of a fair allowance,
Confirm'd by modesty and reason's warrant
Might without blushing yeeld unto.
Velas.
Oh, fear not,
For my affections aim at chast contents;
Not at unruly passions of desire.
I onely claim the title of your servant,
The flight of my ambitions soars no higher,
Then living in your grace, and for incouragement
To quicken my attendance now and then
A kinde unravisht kiss.
Salas.
That's but a see,
Due to a fair deserver: but admit
I grant it, and you have it; may I then
Lay a light burthen on you.
Velas.
What is possible
For me to venture on, by how much more
It carries danger in't; by so much more
My glorie's in the atchievement.
Salas.
I must trust ye.
Velas.
By all the vertues of a Souldiers name,
I vow and sware.
Salas.
Enough, I take that oath:
And thus my self first do confirm your
warrant.
Velas.
I feel new life within me.
Salas.
Now be Steward,
For your own store, my lord, and take possession
Of what you have purchased freely.
Velas.
With a joy.
As willing as my wishes can arrive at.
kisses her.
Salas.
So, I may claim your oath now.
Velas.
I attend it.
Salas.
Velasco, I do love thee, and am jealous
Of thy spirit, which is hourly apt
To catch at actions; if I must be Mistris
Of thee and my own will, thou must be subject
To my improvements.
Velas.
'Tis my souls delight.
Salas.
Y'are fam'd the onely fighting Sir alive;
But what's this; if you be not safe to me.
Velas.
By all—
Salas.
you shall not sware, take heed of perjury.
So much I fear your safety, that I command,
A dagger, or stelletto; shall not fight
On any quarrel be it neer so just.
Velas.
Lady!
Salas.
Hear more yet; if you be baffled,
Rail'd at, scorn'd, mock'd struck, baffl'd, kick'd,
Velas.
(O Lady!)
Salas.
Spit on, revil'd, challeng'd, provok'd by fools,
Boyes, anticks, cowards.
Velas.
('Tis intollerable.)
Salas.
I charge you (by your oath) not to reply.
In word, deed, look: and lastly, I conjure ye
Never to shew the cause to any living
By circumstance or by equivocation;
Nor till two years expire to motion love.
Velas.
Why do you play the Tyrant
thus?
Salas.
'Tis common
T' observe how love hath made a Coward valiant;
But that a man as daring as Velasco,
Should to express his duty to a Mistris,
Kneel to his own disgraces, and turn Coward,
Belongs to me and to my glories onely;
I'm Empress of this miracle. Your oath
Is past, if you will lose your self you may.
How d'ee, Sir?
Velas.
Woman thou art vain and
cruel.
Salas.
Wilt please your lordship tast a cup of wine,
Or stay and sup, and take a hard bed here?
Your friends think we have done strange things this while.
Come let us walk like Lovers: I am pittiful,
I love no quarrels.
Velas.
Triumph in my ruins.
There is no act of folly but is common
In use and practise to a scornful woman.
Exeunt.
| The Queen, or The Excellency of Her Sex | |