Marciano ; or, The Discovery :: :: University of Virginia Library

In civility only, I mean in civility, Madam, for I would
only ask you one question, and that's not two, videlicet, whether
or no, that is, when we may be Joyn'd in the lawfull band
of matrimony, betwixt these parties following, to wit. for you see
Becabunga has not been long a doing, he has taken your Sister to be
his lawfull spouse already, I hear, although he has been but a fortnight
a wooing of her, and yet I have been woing you one time
with another these three moneths, I wot well, and I am sure that
you love me—

Chrys.

Are you sure, Sir?

Pant.

Yes indeed, and I think there is as much reason for the
one as for the other: and to be free with you, a my conscience I
might have had a bony Gentlewoman (just such another as your
self) with twelve thousand Duckats in portion, a moneth since,
had it not been for you: consider, pray you, what you promised to
my mother last night.

Chrys.

You will allow me a time to consult with my self, Sir,
will you not?—

Pant.

That's a strange consulting! what have you been doing
ever since I see you first? I am sure you have had time enough to
consult all this while: and I'l tell you now, when your friends and
mine have agreed, there's no time to consult, but presently to be
matrimonyed; you know that as well as I now.

Chrys.

You will do well to press me no further at this time, Sir.

Pant.

I'l let you alone for once then; but, the next time I shall
come to see you, you must not consult any: for, to tell you truly,
as I heard my mother say, you may be glad of me for your husband—

Chrys.

Pray, no more, Sir.

Pant.

And then, when I have spent so much money in wooing
you, you will yet go, may be, and marry another. Fy for shame.

Chrys.

I shall not marry while I give you an answer, Sir.

Pant.

I, but as my mother sayes, it is good to be sure, if any
other man should beat me out of my stirrops now: I would come
to a peel'd egg, would not I?

Chrys.

No more of that, Sir.

Pant.

I'l refer my self to your own discretion then—but,
O!—I had almost forgot, I vow, that's very well remembred;
was not I mounted on Peg-a-sus last night? (now this Peg-a-sus
is the muses horse, he has wings and flyes, God bless us) and what
think you I have done? marry you shall hear what rare Verses I
have made. O! Madam, are you there? (Enter Mar.)
you are
come in very good time; I was just a going to read
my Verses, but you shall hear an Anagram first—
Takes out his Verses, &c.
It is a pretty thing, Madam; you can read and
write I warrand you; see you there your own name—

reads.

You see,—

Chrysolina (Anagram)
You're even like a cherry.

I'l be judg'd if that be not pretty now: for, d'you see, I have only
borrowed some four letters, or so, out of, Madam, your Sisters
name, here, because she is a nigh relation and may spare them; and
I have added two (I think) out of the quickness of my self.

Chrys.

Excellent indeed, Sir.

Mar.

Good, upon my word.

Pant.

I, but you have not seen all yet; here are brave Verses
upon your name, Madam Chrysolina.

Chrys.

An acrostick, Sir.

Pant.

I, I, an accurstick, the same. And thus it is—take
notice now.

reads.

Canst thou not see, Pantaloni,
there's the C. now.
How thy Mistris is so bony?

Now I am speaking to my self, as't were.

Revera, she is even such,
You cannot match her, and that's much.

Now there is C. H. R. Y. that is Chry.

She is handsom, neat and fine,
O, now if she were but thine.

There's S. O. now that's Chryso: now I am speaking to my self
you must understand all this while.

Live them in hopes, and know it is constantly thy duty,
Is alwayes, everlastingly, to extoll and upbraid her beauty.

But, now take heed, here comes the tongue of the trump—

Narcissus, Roses, and every flower,
All must yield to her fair, rare, bright, sparkling colour.

That's Chry-so-li-na: Now, is not that right now? say any of
you, if you dare, if these Verses be not as good as any you have seen.

Chrys., Mar.

They extream good, Sir.

Enter Boy, rounds Pant. in the ear.
Pant.

So, so, tell him I come:—Ladies, I must leave you,
but I will not go home yet: Becabunga hath sent for me to a
collation; we'l drink both your healths e're we go to bed yet, and
to morrow I shall see you e're you can get on your petticoats, Madam
Chrysolina: for, I must be more familiar with you, since I have
got such a good commodity of frequenting you—I shall show
my mother all that has past betwixt us, Madam; So farewell.

Exit.

Mar.

How d'you like him, Sister?

Chrys.

As formerly, I find him a very discreet Gentleman.

Mar.

I would you had him for your husband.

Chrys.

I should wish that same, in a fair way, Sister.

Mar.

Considering especially, 'tis best to marry while you are
now in your prime.

Chrys.

Right—for old maids are meer dogs-meat, they spoil
the trade of wooing—Go by—go by.

Exeunt.