The Scornful Lady | Page 7

sleep, a very
figure Sir.
Wel. Cannot you cast another for the Gentlewomen?
Rog. Not till the man be in his bed, his grave: his grave, his bed: the
very same again Sir. Our Comick Poet gives the reason sweetly; Plenus
rimarum est, he is full of loope-holes, and will discover to our
Patroness.
Wel. Your comment Sir has made me understand you.
Enter Martha the Ladies Sister, and Younglove, to them with a Posset.
Rog. Sir be addrest, the graces do salute you with the full bowl of
plenty. Is our old enemy entomb'd?
Abig. He's safe.
Rog. And does he snore out supinely with the Poet?
Mar. No, he out-snores the Poet.
Wel. Gentlewoman, this courtesie shall bind a stranger to you, ever
your servant.
Mar. Sir, my Sisters strictness makes not us forget you are a stranger
and a Gentleman.
Abig. In sooth Sir, were I chang'd into my Lady, a Gentleman so well
indued with parts, should not be lost.
Wel. I thank you Gentlewoman, and rest bound to you. See how this
foul familiar chewes the Cud: From thee, and three and fifty good Love
deliver me.

Mar. Will you sit down Sir, and take a spoon?
Wel. I take it kindly, Lady.
Mar. It is our best banquet Sir.
Rog. Shall we give thanks?
Wel. I have to the Gentlewomen already Sir.
Mar. Good Sir Roger, keep that breath to cool your part o'th' Posset,
you may chance have a scalding zeal else; and you will needs be doing,
pray tell your twenty to your self. Would you could like this Sir?
Wel. I would your Sister would like me as well Lady.
Mar. Sure Sir, she would not eat you: but banish that imagination;
she's only wedded to her self, lyes with her self, and loves her self; and
for another Husband than herself, he may knock at the gate, but ne're
come in: be wise Sir, she's a Woman, and a trouble, and has her many
faults, the least of which is, she cannot love you.
Abig. God pardon her, she'l do worse, would I were worthy his least
grief, Mistris Martha.
Wel. Now I must over-hear her.
Mar. Faith would thou hadst them all with all my heart; I do not think
they would make thee a day older.
Abig. Sir, will you put in deeper, 'tis the sweeter.
Mar. Well said old sayings.
Wel. She looks like one indeed. Gentlewoman you keep your word,
your sweet self has made the bottom sweeter.
Abig. Sir, I begin a frolick, dare you change Sir?

Wel. My self for you, so please you. That smile has turn'd my stomach:
this is right the old Embleme of the Moyle cropping of Thistles: Lord
what a hunting head she carries, sure she has been ridden with a
Martingale. Now love deliver me.
Rog. Do I dream, or do I wake? surely I know not: am I rub'd off? Is
this the way of all my morning Prayers? Oh Roger, thou art but grass,
and woman as a flower. Did I for this consume my quarters in
Meditation, Vowes, and wooed her in Heroical Epistles? Did I expound
the Owl, and undertook with labour and expence the recollection of
those thousand Pieces, consum'd in Cellars, and Tabacco-shops of that
our honour'd Englishman Ni. Br.? Have I done this, and am I done thus
too? I will end with the wise man, and say; He that holds a Woman, has
an Eel by the tail.
Mar. Sir 'tis so late, and our entertainment (meaning our Posset) by
this is grown so cold, that 'twere an unmannerly part longer to hold
you from your rest: let what the house has be at your command Sir.
Wel. Sweet rest be with you Lady; and to you what you desire too.
Abig. It should be some such good thing like your self then. [Exeunt.
Wel. Heaven keep me from that curse, and all my issue. Good night
Antiquity.
Rog. Solamen Miseris socios habuisse Doloris: but I alone.
Wel. Learned Sir, will you bid my man come to me? and requesting a
greater measure of your learning, good night, good Master Roger.
Rog. Good Sir, peace be with you. [Exit Roger.
Wel. Adue dear Domine. Half a dozen such in a Kingdom would make
a man forswear confession: for who that had but half his wits about
him, would commit the Counsel of a serious sin to such a cruel
Night-cap? Why how now shall we have an Antick? [Enter
Servant.Whose head do you carry upon your shoulders, that you jole it

so against the Post? Is't for your ease? Or have you seen the Celler?
Where are my slippers Sir?
Ser. Here Sir.
Wel. Where Sir? have you got the pot Verdugo? have