 | The Careles Shepherdess |  |
Scen. 1.
Enter three Satires.1
Come on my fellow Satires, we will be
Still Masters of the Woods, and please our selves
And our appetites, no matter though
The foolish Shepherds rail upon us, let us
Pursue our game, no Shepherdess shall scape us,
Unless they walk with stronger guard, and when
Men come like Armies to destroy us, we
Trust to our nimble feet, and leave them cursing,
Because they ha'not wings to overtake us.
2
The Nymphs, because we are deform'd, contemn us,
But if we take them at advantage, we
Teach 'em repentance, and delight our selves
Upon their rape; the last I grappl'd with,
Was a delitious Thief.
Pursue your pleasures;
Only I charge you, if in any walk
Of yours, the beautifull Arismena
Chance to appear, none touch her to offence;
And lest your presence fright her, hast away,
She must be mine, although I'l most despair:
That so much sweetnesse should affect a Monster,
For I have 'gainst my nature courted her,
Lain prosttate at her feet, with sighs and tears
Besought her to compassionate a heart
That langnish'd for a kisse, still she has scorn'd me,
Next time I meet her at advantage, I
Will satisfie my full desires upon her.
Omnes; We will obey.
All other of her tribe
Are free to you, but she must be my prey:
Oh I am ravished but with the thought
How sweet a piece of flesh I shall compell
To serve my pleasure; not a thousand prayers
Nor rivers of her tears shall quench my lust:
Methinks I have her at imbrace already;
We live to please our sence, and wo'd not change
Our Goatish shapes with any soft humanity
To court a female, and be made their fools,
And die for love of any pievish Giglet.
2
Yet 'tis not much amisse to flatter them,
If so they may be won.
3
Right, but if they
Be obstinate indeed, use violence,
And snatch your own delight from their fair Bosomes,
And glory in't; when we have broke their Maiden-heads
They'l serve a doting Shepherd. Come be frolique,
And leap into a dance to practise our
Activity, the place is most secure:
Lustily Pipes; I am all fire methinks.
As the Satires are dancing, another Satire comes in, pulling Graculus by the heals, be crying.
Oh good Mr. Satire! Ah! ah!
They continue their dance about him, pinching and kicking him; which done.
How came you by this fellow?
Grac.
He came not by me, but overtook me an't please you,
a pox on his heels. Oh! what will become of me?
My Master has half thrasht me to death—
1
Your Master, what's your Mistresse?
Grac.
My Master is the Shepherd Brachius,
Father of the fair Arismena.
1
Arismena, ha!
2
What shall we do with him?
3
Hang him up on the next tree,
Grac.
Ah! if you hang me, I shall never be my own man again:
Ah!
2
Let's tear him to pieces,
4
Limb by limb,
3
Roast him, and eat him,
Hee'l make a feast, the fool is fat.
Grac.
You'l never endure my flesh in your mouths Gentlemen
Ah!
2
What not yours?
Grac.
Alas I am not sweet, do not your worships smell me,
'tis rank within my lynings.
2
No, be advised by me, this fellow I have heard runs neighing
after the Wenches, the first thing we do
Omnes agreed.
2
I have an excellent Whittle to cut
His throat, or to carve him, Come Sirrah.
Grac.
D'ye hear sweet-fac'd Gentlemen, you talk of hanging,
I'le choose my Gallows, I, let me be trust up before you
untrusse me, O that fashion let me die a man, and not a Capon!
Oh misery! Alas I have nothing to speak on! Ah! ah! If ever
I neighed after any Female, or beckoned, or whistled, but to
Boptaile our Bitch, that helps me to look to our sheep, and
kennells with me, which I hope is no offence; or flung so much
let me whipt to death with Nettles, or flea me alive: Oh
courteous, hairy, hoary, Satyrical Gentlemen.
1
I have considered, stand off, and I'le pronounce his sentence.
2
You had better have been hang'd at first, as I wo'd had you.
3
Or roasted, slead, or any thing,—he'l pay you—
4
Or carv'd, as you were advis'd; he'l torture you, prepare to
be seven years a dying.
Grac.
Oh! do, do what you please with me, I shall not need
to make my will, or if I did, you wo'not let me go home to
fetch what I would bestow upon you in Legacies, and to trust any
of you to be my Executors, is to no purpose; you have frighted
me half dead already. Now, now.
1
Do you serve the fair Arismena?
Grac.
I ha' not serv'd out my time, would you would give me
leave to deserve Indentures.
1
What will you do to save your life now?
Grac.
Do? why if it please you to command me, I will do any
thing, oh! any thing, to please any of your friends here to give
their consent, and be bound hand and foot, I'le cut their throats.
2., 3., 4.
Ha!
Grac.
If you be so contented.
1
Will you promise, nay swear to bring your Mistress to this
place to morrow, pretending you have found out some Fountain
or delightful Spring, or what other invention you can tempt her
with, but let no body else come with her.
Grac.
She shall come by this hand, is that all? If I do not tice
her hither, why carve me when you take me next, as that will
not be long, if I perform not my Covenants, do what you will
with me; we two will meet you here.
1
Not meet me, not a word of me, or any of my Companions.
Grac.
D' ye think I am such an Asse? what care I who meets,
you'l do me no hurt.
2
Nor her, we'l only be merry, and dance a little.
Grac.
Nay use your pleasures, I'le bring her, or let me be gor'd
to death with your Worships horns.
1
I'le trust thee, farewell, if you fail, look to't.
Exeunt.
Grac.
I must keep my oath, and bring her hither, or they'l
then? and may—thereby hangs a tale, hum! Why there's no great
harm if they do but—and so let her go, she'l passe for a Maid
a reasonable while after this letcherous Goat has a mind to her,
no matter, I shall be thought innocent, and preserve my skin
from their fangs by it.
I save my self, I'de give my Sister, Wife,
And almost hang my self to save my life.
Exit.
| The Careles Shepherdess | |