Part 81 (1/2)

SCENE IV.

_Enter the cas.h.i.+ered_ CONFIDANTS, _in a discontented posture_.

FLO. Summoned to appear! for what? What have we done?

CAR. Incensed those humorous scornful ladies.

Thence rose the ground, I durst wager my beaver on't; They ought us a spite, and their information has done't.

PAL. This falls pat on their resolves: for those disdainful wenches, in the heat of their pa.s.sion, vowed jointly that revenge should kick up our heels.

SAL. Our heels are not so short, though theirs be. Should they pursue this information, it would dart highly on their dishonour.

MOR. Honour! what may that be in this age, but an airy t.i.tle?

These _bona-robas_ have not lost the art of ingratiating, nor deluding their servants. There be chimneys enough at court to convey their smoke. Beauty and confidence keep strong sentinels in love's army. They cannot want solicitors in a place of liberty.

TIL. Let them hold to't! Their complaints are but squibs in the air. Such whifflers are below my scorn, and beneath my spite.

Let's bravely on: I should account his fate The worst of ills, that's foil'd by woman's hate.

FLO. Yet 'twas Alcides' heavy fate, and he Was stronger far than twenty such as we.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

_Enter the_ ALIMONY LADIES.

FRI. Convened to court! Some masque or princely ball, I'll gage mine honour on't. We must be employed, sisters.

CAV. And usefully too, I hope.

JUL. I see well the court can do nothing without our city revellers. Trust me, I am with child till I get to't: but my desires are enlivened for a sight of my lord especially.

JOC. Or your special lord, madam. We smell your meaning. As I am virtuous, he deserves your smile, or whatsoever may most endear him. I have known none at any time court love with a more graceful nor accurate presence. He can be both seriously amorous and amorously serious.

MED. Surely, Lady Joculette, you set him at a rate far above th'

market? you value him not as if you meant to sell.

JOC. No, nor buy neither. I have no property in such a rich pennyworth; for, if I had, I should wish----

MED. I know what, madam.

JOC. Good now! thy conceit?

MED. Shall I freely unbosom me?

ALL. Pray thee, madam; do, madam!

MED. You would wish that, his puny baker-legs had more Ess.e.x[178]

growth in them, for else they would make ill butcher's ware!