THE SCORNFUL LADY,
A COMEDY.
Persons Represented in the Play.
_Elder_ Loveless, _a Sutor to the Lady_.
_Young_ Loveless, _a Prodigal_.
Savil, _Steward to Elder_ Loveless.
Lady _and_ )
Martha, )_Two Sisters_.
Younglove, _or_ Abigal, _a waiting Gentlewoman_.
Welford, _a Sutor to the Lady_.
_Sir_ Roger, _Curate to the Lady_.
(Captain )
(Travailer ) _Hangers on to Young_ Loveless.
(Poet )
(Tabaco-man )
_Wenches_.
_Fidlers_.
Morecraft, _an Usurer_.
_A Rich Widow_.
_Attendants_.
* * * * *
Actus primus. Scena prima.
* * * * *
_Enter the two_ Lovelesses, Savil _the Steward, and a Page_.
_Elder Love_. Brother, is your last hope past to mollifie _Morecrafts_
heart about your Morgage?
_Young Love_. Hopelesly past: I have presented the Usurer with a richer
draught than ever _Cleopatra_ swallowed; he hath suckt in ten thousand
pounds worth of my Land, more than he paid for at a gulp, without
Trumpets.
_El. Lo_. I have as hard a task to perform in this house.
_Yo. Lo._ Faith mine was to make an Usurer honest, or to lose my Land.
_El. Lo._ And mine is to perswade a passionate woman, or to leave the
Land. Make the boat stay, I fear I shall begin my unfortunate journey this
night, though the darkness of the night and the roughness of the waters
might easily disswade an unwilling man.
_Savil._ Sir, your Fathers old friends hold it the sounder course for your
body and estate to stay at home and marry, and propagate and govern in our
Country, than to Travel and die without issue.
_El. Lo._ _Savil_, you shall gain the opinion of a better servant, in
seeking to execute, not alter my will, howsoever my intents succeed.
_Yo. Lo._ Yonder's Mistres _Younglove_, Brother, the grave rubber of your
Mistresses toes.
_Enter Mistres_ Younglove _the waiting woman._
_El. Lo._ Mistres _Younglove_.
_Young._ Master _Loveless_, truly we thought your sails had been hoist: my
Mistres is perswaded you are Sea-sick ere this.
_El. Lo._ Loves she her ill taken up resolution so dearly? Didst thou move
her from me?
_Young_. By this light that shines, there's no removing her, if she get a
stiffe opinion by the end. I attempted her to day when they say a woman
can deny nothing.
_El. Lo_. What critical minute was that?
_Young_. When her smock was over her ears: but she was no more pliant than
if it hung about her heels.
_El. Lo_. I prethee deliver my service, and say, I desire to see the dear
cause of my banishment; and then for _France_.
_Young_. I'le do't: hark hither, is that your Brother?
_El. Lo_. Yes, have you lost your memory?
_Young_. As I live he's a pretty fellow. [_Exit._
_Yo. Lo_. O this is a sweet _Brache_.
_El. Lo_. Why she knows not you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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