Classic Poem

ACT. II. SCENE I.

Machessa, Philaenis, and after a while Cosmeta, Pandena, Rhodia. Mac .

Give me my Javelin; hangs my Fauchion right?
Three Ladyes sayst thou? So! go fetch 'em in now.
What? goes the Tilting on I mention'd? Is there
No Just, nor Turnament yet granted out? Cos .
You're well appointed Madam. Mach .
How I hate
That Name of Madam, it befits a Chamber:
Give me the words o'th' Field, such as you'd give
To fairer Ladyes pricking o'r the Plains
On foaming Steeds. But I do pardon you.
Shews not this Scarf and Fauchion far more comely,
Than paultry pyebald Ribbands, and young Bodkins? Pan .
You wear a rigid Beauty, fierce Delights. Rho .
Your Pleasures threaten, and your stubborn Graces
Tempt, and defend at once. Mach .
Why now y are right.
And what say'st thou, my little Noon-tide shadow?
My trusty Pigmy? Phil .
Now indeed, and truly — — Mach .
Hell o'these simpring Protestations!
Thou sinfull Inch of short Mortality,
Give Ear to my Instructions: here I swear
By th' Sacred Order of my Lady-Errantry,
If thou effeminat'st thy discourse once more
With these precise, minc'd, Little-Sisters-Vows,
Thy breath is forfeit. Phi .
By that bloudy Fauchion — — Mach .
I there's a Wench, spit from the mouth of Mavors!
Bellona was thy Nurse. Phi .
— And that fierce Javelin,
I'd rather see a Plume o'rshade your back
With a large, generous Carelesness; than a bunch
Of fidling Feathers hang before you, just
As modest fig-leaves do in naked Pictures. Mach .
Thou little Vantage of Mankind, thou Grain
That Nature put into the Scales to make
Weight to the World, thou tak'st me very much. Phi .
The Sable Fan, which you wore last upon
Your white Lawn-Apron, made you shew just like
The Ace of Clubs, with a black spot i'th' middle. Mac .
Why how now little Mischief? is't not knavish
And waggish, like a very Page o'th' Court? Cos .
What use do you mean her for? Mach .
Have you not read?
To summon Knights from th' tops of Castle wals. Pan .
I fancy those brave Scythian Heroines;
Those Noble, valiant Amazons like you. Mach .
Nature did shew them only as my Types. Cos .
There's nothing wanting but adventures: We
Shall quickly now requite the Errant Knights
That help distressed Ladies to their wishes. Mach .
I'l disobliege our Sex. If that you find
Any imprison'd, or inchanted
Tell him Machessa 's his deliverance.
Said I Machessa? Hold! that word Machessa
Sailes through my Lips with too small breath. I'l have
A Name that Mouths shall travell with: let's see?
Wee'l put a Prologue to it: So! I have it;
It is concluded — Monster-quelling-Woman -
Obliging-Man-delivering-Machessa,
She, She is his deliverance: tell him so. Ph .
Do she that can; I would you'd change your Name;
'Tis longer than your Self, and if it were
Some three foot shorter, 'twere as high as I am. Mach .
See who 'tis knocks; you do not know your Office;
Bellona , hear my Name, and send Adventures.