In ridicule of Act iv. Sc. i. of English Monfieur, by the Hon. J. HOWARD, of which this is a portion. Enter Comely in a Riding Garb, with his fervant. Comely. Let my Horfes be brought ready to the door, for i'le go out of Town this Evening. [Exit fervant. Enter Welbred. Well. Why, how now Comely, booted and spur'd? Comely. Marry am I. Wel. For how long? Comely. Why, for this seven years for ought I know, I am weary of this Town, and all that's in it, as for women I am in love with none, nor never shal, I find I have a pretty strong defence about my heart against that folly. O here comes the Ladies very opportunely for me. Enter Lady VVealthy and two other Ladies. To take my leave of e'm. L. Weal. Mr. Comely your Servant-what in a Riding Garb. Comely. A drefs fitting for a Country Journey Madam. L. Weal. Why, can you ever leave this Town? Comely. That I can truely madam, within this hour. L. Weal. I can't believe it. This Comely.. So that for my future health i'le retire into the Countrey for Air, and there Hunt and Hawk, Eat and fleep fo found, that I will never dream of a woman, or any part about her refolution of mine has made me turn Poet, and therefore before I go, you shall hear a Song called my fare. well to London and women, boy fing the Song. Of which song the third and last stanza runs thus:— Therefore this danger to prevent And still to keep my hearts content: 'Into the country I'le with speed, With Hounds and Hawks my fancy feed! Both fafer pleasures to pursue, Than staying to converse with you. BAYES. Yes, he gave out fo; but that was onely to cover his defign. JOHNS. What design? BAYES. Why, to head the Army, that lies conceal'd for him in Knights-bridge. JOHNS. I fee here is a great deal of Plot, Mr. Bayes. BAYES. Yes, now it begins to break; but we shall have a world of more bufiness anon. Enter Prince Volfcius, Cloris, Amarillis, and Harry with a Riding-Cloak and Boots. 'Ama. Sir, you are cruel, thus to leave the Town, And to retire to Country folitude. Clo. We hop'd this Summer that we should at least Have held the honour of your company. BAYES. Held the honour of your Company! prettily expreft! Held the honour of your company! Godfookers, these fellows will never take notice of any thing. JOHNS. I affure you, Sir, I admire it extreamly; I don't know what he does. BAYES. I, I, he's a little envious; but 'tis no great matter. Come. Ama. Pray let us two this single boon obtain, That you will here with poor us still remain. BAYES. Sad! Vols. Harry, my Boots; for I'l go rage among My Blades encamp'd, and quit this Urban throng. SмI. But pray, Mr. Bayes, is not this a little diffi cult, that you were saying e'en now, to keep an Army thus conceal'd in Knights-bridge. BAYES. In Knights-bridge? stay. JOHNS. No, not if the Inn-keepers be his friends. BAYES. His friends! Ay, Sir, his intimate acquaint ance; or else, indeed, I grant it could not be. SMI. Yes, faith, fo it might be very easily. i Comely fees Elsba, a Country lafs, and falls fuddenly in love with her. 'Comely. . . . fet up my Horses. What fudden fate hath chang'd my mind! I feel my heart so restless now as if it n'ere knew rest, sure I'me in love; The Hon. J. HoWARD. English Monfieur, A&t iv.Sc. i. p. 42. Ed. 1674 "And what's this maid's name? Idem, Act iv. Sc. i. p. 40. Ed. 1674. Muflapha. I bring the Morning pictur'd in a Cloud. Sir W. D'AVENANT, Siege of Rhodes. P. I. "The Second Entry.' p. 10. Ed. 1656. 'Mr. Comely in love! English Monfieur, Act iv. Sc. ii. p. 45. Ed. 1674 "Love and Honour, Written by W. DAVENANT Knight. Prefented by His Majefties Servants at the Black Fryers." London, 1649, 4to. BAYES. Nay, if I do not make all things eafie, I gad, I'l give you leave to hang me. Now you would think that he is going out of Town; but you shall see how prettily I have contriv'd to stop him presently. SмI. By my troth, Sir, you have so amaz'd me, I know not what to think. Enter Parthenope. Vols. Bless me! how frail are all my best resolves! Vols. Can vulgar Vestments high-born beauty fhrowd? 'Thou bring'ft the Morning pictur'd in a Cloud? BAYES. The Morning pictur'd in a Cloud! A, Gadfookers, what a conceipt is there! Par. Give you good Ev'n, Sir. [Exit. Vols. O inaufpicious Stars! that I was born To fudden love, and to more fudden scorn! Ama. Cloris, How! Prince Volfcius in love? Ha, ha, ha. [Exeunt laughing. SMI. Sure, Mr. Bayes, we have loft fome jeft here, that they laugh at fo. BAYES. Why did you not obferve? He first refolves to go out of Town, and then, as he is pulling on his Boots, falls in love. Ha, ha, ha. SMI. O, I did not obferve: that, indeed, is a very good jeft. BAYES. Here, now, you shall see a combat betwixt Love and Honour. An ancient Author has made a whole Play on't'; but I have dispatch'd it all in this Scene. 1 May this flip be accepted as evidence that this Act ftood fecond in the original Play? (a) Felifbravo. LOVE, and HONOUR, pull two ways; And I ftand doubtful which to take: To Arabia, Honour fays, Love fays no; thy stay here make. Sir R. FANSHAWE's tranflation of Querer pro folo Querer. (b) Alphonfo. But Honour fays not fo. Siege of Rhodes, Part I. p. 19. (c) Ent. Palladius foftly reading 2. letters. Both t'one and t'other: Both may not prevaile. P Rize not your honour fo much as to difprize her that honours you, in choofing rather to meet Death in the field, then Pulchrella in her defires. Give my affection leave once more to diffwade you from trying Conqueft with fo unequall a Foe: Or if a Combate must be tryed, make a Bed of Roses the Field, and me your Enemie. The Intereft I claim in you is fufficient warrant to my defires, which according to the place they find in your Respects, confirme me either the happiest of all Ladies, or make me the most unfortunate of all women. PULCHRELLA. A Charme too ftrong for Honour to represse. Mus. A heart too poore for Honour to poffeffe. Pall. Honour must stoop to Vows. But what faies this? [Reads the other Letter. My Lord, HE hand that guides this Pen, being guided by the ambition of your honour, and my owne affection, prefents you with the wishes of a faithfull fervant, who defires not to buy you fafety with the hazard of your Reputation. Goe on with courage, and know, Panthea fhall partake with you in either fortune: If conquer'd, my heart shall be your Monument, to preferve and glorifie your honour'd afhes; If a Conqueror, my tongue fhall be your Herault to proclaime you the Champion of our Sex, and the Phoenix of your own, honour'd by all, equall'd by few, beloved by none more dearly then Your owne Panthea. I fayle betwixt two Rocks! What shall I doe? What Marble melts not if Pulchrella wooe? |