LITMIR.BIZ

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do beseech you Madam, send away

      Your other women, and receive from me

      A few sad words, which set against your joyes

      May make 'em shine the more.

      Pan.

      Sirs, leave me all.

      [Exeunt Women.

      Spa.

      I kneel a stranger here to beg a thing

      Unfit for me to ask, and you to grant,

      'Tis such another strange ill-laid request,

      As if a begger should intreat a King

      To leave his Scepter, and his Throne to him

      And take his rags to wander o're the world

      Hungry and cold.

      Pan.

      That were a strange request.

      Spa.

      As ill is mine.

      Pan. Then do not utter it.

      Spa.

      Alas 'tis of that nature, that it must

      Be utter'd, I, and granted, or I die:

      I am asham'd to speak it; but where life

      Lies at the stake, I cannot think her woman

      That will not take something unreasonably to hazard saving of it: I shall seem a strange Petitioner, that wish all ill to them I beg of, e're they give me ought; yet so I must: I would you were not fair, nor wise, for in your ill consists my good: if you were foolish, you would hear my prayer, if foul, you had not power to hinder me: he would not love you.

      Pan.

      What's the meaning of it.

      Spa.

      Nay, my request is more without the bounds

      Of reason yet: for 'tis not in the power

      Of you to do, what I would have you grant.

      Pan.

      Why then 'tis idle, pray thee speak it out.

      Spa.

      Your brother brings a Prince into this land,

      Of such a noble shape, so sweet a grace,

      So full of worth withal, that every maid

      That looks upon him, gives away her self

      To him for ever; and for you to have

      He brings him: and so mad is my demand

      That I desire you not to have this man,

      This excellent man, for whom you needs must die,

      If you should miss him. I do now expect

      You should laugh at me.

      Pan.

      Trust me I could weep rather, for I have found him

      In all thy words a strange disjoynted sorrow.

      Spa.

      'Tis by me his own desire so, that you would not love him.

      Pan.

      His own desire! why credit me Thalestris, I am no common wooer: if he shall wooe me, his worth may be such, that I dare not swear I will not love him; but if he will stay to have me wooe him, I will promise thee, he may keep all his graces to himself, and fear no ravishing from me.

      Spa.

      'Tis yet his own desire, but when he sees your face, I fear it will not be; therefore I charge you as you have pity, stop these tender ears from his enchanting voice, close up those eyes, that you may neither catch a dart from him, nor he from you; I charge you as you hope to live in quiet; for when I am dead, for certain I will walk to visit him if he break promise with me: for as fast as Oaths without a formal Ceremony can make me, I am to him.

      Pan.

      Then be fearless;

      For if he were a thing 'twixt God and man,

      I could gaze on him; if I knew it sin

      To love him without passion: Dry your eyes,

      I swear you shall enjoy him still for me,

      I will not hinder you; but I perceive

      You are not what you seem, rise, rise Thalestris,

      If your right name be so.

      Spa.

      Indeed it is not, Spaconia is my name; but I desire not to be known to other.

      Pan.

      Why, by me you shall not, I will never do you wrong, what good I can, I will, think not my birth or education such, that I should injure a stranger Virgin; you are welcome hither, in company you wish to be commanded, but when we are alone, I shall be ready to be your servant.

      [Exeunt.

      Enter three Men and a Woman.

      1.

      Come, come, run, run, run.

      2.

      We shall out-go her.

      3.

      One were better be hang'd than carry out women fidling to these shews.

      Wom.

      Is the King hard by?

      1.

      You heard he with the Bottles said, he thought we should come too late: What abundance of people here is!

      Wom.

      But what had he in those Bottles?

      3.

      I know not.

      2.

      Why, Ink goodman fool.

      3.

      Ink, what to do?

      1.

      Why the King look you, will many times call for these

      Bottles, and break his mind to his friends.

      Wom.

      Let's take our places, we shall have no room else.

      2.

      The man told us he would walk o' foot through the people.

      3.

      I marry did he.

      1.

      Our shops are well look't to now.

      2.

      'Slife, yonder's my Master, I think.

      1.

      No 'tis not he.

      Enter a man with two Citizens-wives.

      1 Cit.

      Lord how fine the fields be, what sweet living 'tis in the

      Country!

      2 Cit.

      I poor souls, God help 'em; they live as contentedly as one of us.

      1 Cit.

      My husbands Cousin would have had me gone into the Country last year, wert thou ever there?

      2 Cit.

      I, poor souls, I was amongst 'em once.

      1 Cit.

      And what kind of creatures are they, for love of God?

      2 Cit.

      Very good people, God help 'em.

      1

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