Prev | Current Page 140 | Next

Jonson, Ben, 1573-1637

"Cynthia's Revels"

But I
must have you leave it, minion.
RE-ENTER ASOTUS.
AMO. How now, Asotus! how does the lady?
ASO. Faith, ill. I have left my page with her, at her lodging.
HED. O, here's the rarest water that ever was tasted: fill him
some.
PRO. What! has my master a new page?
MER. Yes, a kinsman of the lady Moria's: you must wait better
now, or you are cashiered, Prosaites.
ANA. Come, gallants; you must pardon my foolish humour; when I am
angry, that any thing crosses me, I grow impatient straight. Here,
I drink to you.
PHI. O, that we had five or six bottles more of this liquor!
PHA. Now I commend your judgment, Amorphus: --
[KNOCKING WITHIN.]
Who's that knocks? look, page. [EXIT COS.]
MOR. O, most delicious; a little of this would make Argurion well.
PHA. O, no, give her no cold drink, by any means.
ANA. 'Sblood, this water is the spirit of wine, I'll be hang'd
else.
RE-ENTER COS WITH ARETE.
COS. Here's the lady Arete, madam.
ARE. What, at your bever, gallants?
MOR. Will't please your ladyship to drink? 'tis of the New
Fountain water.
ARE. Not I, Moria, I thank you. -- Gallants, you are for this
night free to your peculiar delights; Cynthia will have no sports:
when she is pleased to come forth, you shall have knowledge.


Pages:
128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152