 | The Magic Picture |  |
SCENE III.
A miserable Lodging-room.Enter UBALDO, in his flannel Waistcoat.
UBALDO.
What dost thou mean wench?
Why dost thou shut the door upon me? Ha!
My cloaths are ta'en away too! must I starve?
Is this my lodging? I'm sure the Lady talk'd
Of sacks and possets, and a courtly chamber:
But rain water pelting thro' the lattice,
A torn petticoat to shroud this pallet,
And an old woman's biggen for a night-cap,
Are all the comforts they've doom'd me to!
Slight! 'tis either a pig-stye, or a prison!
The windows are double barr'd with iron;
And if I could leap down, my neck were snapt.
I am betray'd! Rogues! Villains! let me out;
I am a Lord by the King's courtesy!
—Ah, that won't do—that title's now too common!
[Exit.
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