Enter Eumenes, Captains, Stremon.
1 Cap. I have brought the wench, a lusty wench,
And somewhat like the Princess.
Eumen. 'Tis the better, let's see her,
And go you in and tell him, that her Grace
Is come to visit him: how sleeps he Stremon?
Stre. He cannot, only thinks, and calls on Polydor,
Swears he will not be fool'd; sometimes he rages,
And sometimes sits and muses. [Exit Stremon.
Enter Whore, and Captain.
Eume. He's past all help sure?
How do ye like her?
2 Capt. By th' mass a good round Virgin,
And at first sight resembling, she is well cloath'd too.
Eume. But is she sound?
2 Cap. Of wind and limb, I warrant her.
Eume. You are instructed Lady?
Who. Yes, and know, Sir,
How to behave my self, ne're fear.
Eume. Polybius,
Where did he get this Vermin?
1 Capt. Hang him Badger,
There's not a hole free from him, whores and whores mates
Do all pay him obedience.
Eume. Indeed i'th' War,
His quarter was all Whore, Whore upon Whore,
And lin'd with Whore; beshrew me 'tis a fair Whore.
1 Capt. She has smockt away her blood; but fair or foul,
Or blind or lame, that can but lift her leg up,
Comes not amiss to him, he rides like a night Mare,
All Ages, all Religions.
Eume. Can ye state it?
Who. I'le make a shift.
Eume. He must lie with ye, Lady.
Who. Let him, [h]e's not the first man I have lain with,
Nor shall not be the last.
Enter Memnon.
2 Capt. He comes, no more words,
She has her lesson throughly; how he views her!
Eumen. Go forward now, so, bravely, stand!
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 damn'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 Whore.
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 Whore 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—
Who. I beseech your Lordship—
Eumen. He'l tear her all to pieces.
Who. I am no Princess, Sir.
Mem. Who brought thee hither?
2 Capt. If ye confess, we'll hang ye.
Who. Good my Lord—
Mem. Who art thou then?
Who. A poor retaining Whore, Sir,
To one of your Lordships Captains.
Mem. Alas poor Whore,
Go, be a Whore still, and stink worse: Ha, ha, ha. [Ex. Cloe.
What fools are these, and Coxcombs! [Exit Memnon.
Eumen. I am right glad yet,
He takes it with such lightness.
1 Cap. Me thinks his face too
Is not so clouded as it was; how he looks!
Eume. Where's your dead Rat?
2 Cap. The Devil dine upon her
Loins; why what a Medicine had he gotten
To try a Whore!
Enter Stremon.
Stre. Here's one from Polydor stays to speak with ye.
Eume. With whom?
Stre. With all; where has the General been?
He's laughing to himself extreamly.
Eumen. Come,
I'le tell thee how; I am glad yet he's so merry. [Exeunt.