Part 20 (1/2)

_Mem._ Great Lady, How humbly I am bound--

_Who._ You shall not kneel, Sir, Come, I have done you wrong; stand my Souldier, And thus I make amends-- [_Kisses him._

_Eumen._ A Plague confound ye, Is this your state?

_2 Capt._ 'Tis well enough.

_Mem._ O Lady, Your Royal hand, your hand my dearest beauty Is more than I must purchase: here divine one, I dare revenge my wrongs: ha?

_1 Capt._ A d.a.m.n'd foul one.

_Eume._ The Lees of Baudy prewns: mourning Gloves?

All spoil'd by Heaven.

_Mem._ Ha! who art thou?

_2 Capt._ A shame on ye, Ye clawing scabby Wh.o.r.e.

_Mem._ I say, who art thou?

_Eumen._ Why 'tis the Princess, Sir.

_Mem._ The Devil, Sir, 'Tis some Roguey thing.

_Who._ If this abuse be love, Sir, Or I that laid aside my modesty--

_Eumen._ So far thou't never find it.

_Mem._ Do not weep, For if ye be the Princess, I will love ye, Indeed I will, and honour ye, fight for ye, Come, wipe your eyes; by Heaven she stinks; who art thou?

Stinks like a poyson'd Rat behind a hanging?

Woman, who art? like a rotten Cabbage.

_2 Capt._ Y'are much to blame, Sir, 'tis the Princess.

_Mem._ How?

She the Princess?

_Eumen._ And the loving Princess.

_1 Capt._ Indeed the doating Princess.

_Mem._ Come hither once more, The Princess smells like mornings breath, pure Amber, Beyond the courted _Indies_ in her spices.

Still a dead Rat by Heaven; thou a Princess?

_Eumen._ What a dull Wh.o.r.e is this!

_Mem._ I'le tell ye presently, For if she be a Princess, as she may be And yet stink too, and strongly, I shall find her; Fetch the _Numidian_ Lyon I brought over, If she be sprung from the Royal blood, the Lyon, He'l do you reverence, else--