Lys.
Thou brightest star that ever left its sphere
(For sure you once shone in a higher region)
For low pollution and the depth of darkness,
How long hast thou pursu'd this devious course?

Mar.
What course d'ye mean, my Lord?

Lys.
I dare not name it:
For, loving, I am fearful to offend.

Mar.
I cannot be offended at the truth.

Lys.
How long have you been what you now profess?

Mar.
E'er since I can remember.

Lys.
Gods! what pity!
Were you a prostitute so very young?

Mar.
I ne'er was other—if I am so now.

Lys.
You are proclaim'd a creature set to sale
By being here.

Mar.
And do you know this house
A place of such resort, yet venture in it?
I've heard you are of honourable rank,
And govern here.

Lys.
O, you have heard my pow'r,
And therefore stand aloof, but without cause;
For my authority shall here be blind,
Or look with kindness on thee. I've now learnt
What once seem'd strange, why rich men grasp at pow'r,
And the poor murmur at restrictive laws.
Passion wou'd have the means to work its ends,
And the fierce tumult of intemp'rate blood
Rages the more the more it is resisted.
I must and will, in spight of vain remorse
And what I have been, feast each aking sense
On thy luxurious charms. Why dost thou shun me?
Blushing I speak it, thou shalt never find
Amongst the herd whose only joy is lewdness,
A more devoted slave. Is wanton pleasure
What you affect? My youth, yet unimpair'd
By riot or disease, shall meet your wishes.
Art thou ambitious? Power and pomp attend thee.
Or if the love of Gold, that cursed bait
That ruins half thy sex, possess thy heart;
I will descend to gratify a passion
I should detest in any but thy self.

Mar.
Cou'd you do thus! O you immortal powers,
What is your influence on the heart of Man,

If ev'ry slight temptation wins him from you?
Shall painted clay, shall white and red, less pure
Than that which decks the lilly and the rose,
Seduce you from the bright unfading joys
Your goodness yields! For sure your speech imports,
And I well hope, you have not yet renounc'd it.

Lys.
Thou art so fair, so exquisitely fair,
And plead'st against thy self with so much art,
That had I known thee sooner—What a thought!—
But sully'd as thou art I must possess thee,
Whate'er the purchase cost.

Mar.
To think me, Sir,
A creature so abandon'd yet pursue me,
Is sure as mean and infamous, as wicked.
What! waste your youth in arms that each lewd ruffian
Who pays the price, may fill; lavish your wealth,
And yield your sacred honour to the hand
Of an improvident and wastful Wanton,
Who does not guard her own!

Lys.
True, I came hither,
With thoughts like these—But lead me to some place
Private and dark—Alas, why dost thou weep?

Mar.
Dare not come near me.

Lys.
By the raging flame
Thy eyes have kindled here, I must enjoy thee.

Mar.
Then view my last defence. (draws a dagger.

Lys.
What dost thou mean!

Mar.
To die if you pursue your hated purpose,
Vain, rash, mistaken man.

Lys.
O hold thy hand:
By Jove she doth amaze me. Rest assur'd
I will not offer violence again
Be who or what thou wilt—But let me seize
This threat'ning steel, that fill'd my soul with terror
While levell'd at thy breast.

Mar.
O mighty Sir,
If you were born to honour show it now;
If put upon you, make that judgment good
That thought you worthy of it.

Lys.
She's in earnest.
Here is some mystery I cannot fathom. (aside.

Mar.
Have pity on a maid, a friendless maid,
By fortune forc'd to this detested sty;
Where since I came, diseases have been sold
Dearer than physick. Wou'd the gracious Gods
But set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies in the pure air, I shou'd be happy.

Lys.
Conviction rises with each word she speaks.
She's all a miracle, as chaste as fair. (aside.
He must indeed have a corrupted mind,
Whom thy speech cou'd not alter. Here's gold for thee:
Still persevere in the clear way thou goest,
And the Gods strengthen thee. As for my self,
The short liv'd error which thy beauty caus'd,
Thy goodness and thy wisdom have corrected.

Mar.
Now you're a true and worthy Gentleman,
The gracious Gods preserve you.

Lys.
Fare thee well.
If I shou'd take thee hence, licentious tongues

May wrong my fair intentions, and thy fame.
Thou art a piece of virtue, and I doubt not
But that thy birth and training both were noble.
A curse upon him, die he, like a thief,
That shall again attempt to wrong thy honour.
If thou hear'st from me, as thou may'st expect it,
And quickly too, it shall be for thy good. Enter Bolt.

Bolt.
I beseech your Honour, one piece for me.

Lys.
Avaunt, thou damn'd door keeper, pander, hence.
Your house but for this virgin that doth prop it,
Wou'd sink, and overwhelm you. (Exit Lysimachus.

Bolt.

I see we must take another course with you; or your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country in the universe, will undo a whole family. Come your ways.

Bawd.

How now! what's the matter?

Bolt.

Worse and worse, Mistress. She has been talking religion to my Lord Lysimachus.

Bawd.

O abominable!

Bolt.

She makes our profession stink, as it were, in the nostrels of all who come near her.

Bawd.

Marry hang her.

Bolt.

My Lord wou'd have us'd her as a Lord shou'd use a gentlewoman, for I over heard 'em; but she sent him away as cold as a snow-ball; saying his Prayers too.

Bawd.

Take her away: use her at your pleasure.

Mar.

Hark, hark, you Gods!

Bawd.

She's at her pray'rs again. Away with her. I wish she had never enter'd my doors.

Bolt.

Come, mistress, you shall along with me.

Mar.

O wither wou'd you have me?

Bolt.

Into the next room, to take from you by force the jewel you are so unwilling to part with.

Mar.

Pray tell me one thing first.

Bolt.

Propose your Question.

Mar.

What wou'd you wish to your worst enemies?

Bolt.

Why I wou'd wish 'em as infamous as my mistress.

Mar.
And yet that wretch is not so bad as thou art,
Since she's thy better as she doth command thee.
The place thou hold'st is such that Cerberus
Wou'd not exchange his reputation with thee,
The filthy groom, door-keeper to a brothel.
Then to the chol'rick fist of ev'ry villain
Thy ear is liable. Thy food is such
As hath been breath'd on by infectious lungs.

Bolt.

What wou'd you have me do? Go to the wars! Where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and not have money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one.

Mar.
Do any kind of thing but this thou do'st:
Empty receptacles of common filth,
Serve by indenture to the common hangman,
Or herd with swine, or beg from door to door:
The worst of these is far to be preferr'd
To what you practise. If no sense of shame,
No fear of laws, no rev'rence of the Gods
Come near thy heart; let that which doth persuade
Millions to evil, bribe thee to be good:

Touch not my honour, help me to escape
This house of shame, and take the shining gold
The good Lord gave me.

Bolt.

Nay, I don't see why a man mayn't as well do a good deed as a bad one, especially when he's paid for it. And to say the truth, I think you wou'd freeze the blood of a Satyr, and make a Puritan of the Devil, if they were to cheapen a kiss of thee. Come, give me the money.

Mar.

No, first conduct me to some place of safety.

Bolt.

But shall I have it then?

Mar.
If I deceive you, take me home again,
And prostitute me to the vilest groom
That doth frequent your house.

Bolt.

Well, I'll trust you. I'll see you plac'd—

Mar.

But among honest women.

Bolt.

Troth, I've but little acquaintance amongst them. But there is one who is known to all Ephesus by fame, the holy priestess of Diana's temple: She will be proud of such a chaste companion, and has besides the power to protect you.

Mar.

O the good Gods direct me how to find her!

Bolt.

But, hark, I hear my mistress. We must be gone: This way we may avoid her.

Mar.
Jove's virgin-best-loved daughter, bright Diana,
Who shar'st with Sol the skies, chaste Queen of night,
Defend my virtue, and direct my flight. (Exeunt Marina and Bolt. Enter Bawd.

Bawd.

Bolt, Bolt, Where are you? Secure Marina. The Governor's officers are searching the

house for her: we shall have her forc'd away. Why Bolt—O the Devil! the back door is open: The villain is run away with my slave, and all the money I paid for her will be lost.

1 Off.

She's no where to be found.

Bawd.

No, no, she's gone. My man had stole her away before you came, a pox confound him and you too: I am likely to be brought to a fine pass betwixt you.

Off.

Then we must execute our other orders, which are to turn this Beldame out of doors, and then shut up the house.

Bawd.

Turn me out of doors! how must I live?

Off.

Do you take care of that. It is a favour, and a great one too, that you are not sent to prison.

Bawd.

Such Governors are enough to make a woman do what she never thought of.

Off.

Ay, do—work—that's what I dare be sworn you never thought of.

Bawd.

No, nor ever will. A Gentlewoman, and work! I'll see you all hang'd first.

Off.

Chuse, and be hang'd your self: You have long deserv'd it.

Bawd.

Have I so, scoundrel? And yet you have been glad of a cast of my office before now. While such as you are trusted with authority, as sure as thieves are honest, strumpets chaste,

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