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THE CITYE MATCH.

A COMOEDYE.

PRESENTED TO THE KING and QVEENE AT WHITE-HALL.

ACTED SINCE AT BLACK-FRIERS BY HIS MAIESTIES Servants.

HORAT. de Arte Poet.

Versibus exponi Tragicis res Comica non vult.

OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, Printer to the UNIVERSITY.

Anno Dom. M. DC. XXXIX.

 TO THE READER

THe Author of this Poem, knowing how hardly the best things protect themselves from censure, had no ambition to make it this way publique. Holding workes of this light nature to be things which need an Apologie for being written at all. Nor estee∣ming otherwise of them, whose abilities in this kinde are most passable, then of Masquers, who spangle, & glitter for the time, but tis through tinsell. As it was meerly out of Obe∣dience that he first wrote it, so when it was made, had it not been commanded from him, it had died upon the place, where it took life. Himselfe being so averse from raysing fame from the stage, that at the prefentment, he was one of the severest spectators there; nor ever show'd other signe whereby it might be knowne to be his, but his liberty to de∣spise it. Yet he hath at length consented it should passe the Presse; not with an Ayme to purchase a new Reputation, but to keep that which he hath already from growing worse. For understanding that some at London, without his Ap∣probation or allowance, were ready to print a false, imper∣fect Coppy, he was loth to be libell'd by his owne worke; or that his Play should appeare to the world with more then its own faults. Farewell.

 THE PROLOGVE TO THE KING AND QUEENE. THE Author, Royall Sir, so dreads this Night, As if for writing he were doomd to th'sight. Or else, unlesse you doe protect his fame, Y' had sav'd his Play, and sentenc'd him to th' flame. For though your name, or power, were ith'reprive, Such workes, he thinks, are but condemn'd to live. Which, for this place being rescued from the fire, Take ruine from th'advancement, and fall higher. Though None, he hopes, sit here upon his wit, As if he Poems did, or Playes commit. Yet he must needs feare censure, that feares prayse, Nor would write still wer't to succeed ith' Bayes. For he is not oth' trade, nor would excell In this kinde, where tis lightnesse to doe well. Yet as the Gods refin'd base things, and some Beasts foule ith' Heard grevv pure ith' Hecatombe; And as the Oxe prepar'd, and crowned Bull Are Offerings, though kept back, and Altars full: So, Mighty Sir, this sacrifice being neere The Knife at Oxford, which y' have kindled here, He hopes twill from you, and the Queene, grow cleane, And turne t' Oblation, what He meant a Scene. THE PROLOGVE AT BLACK-FRIERS. WEre it his trade, the Author bid me say, Perchance he'd beg you would be good to th' Play. And I, to set him up in Reputation, Should hold a Bason forth for Approbation. But praise so gain'd, He thinks, were a Reliefe Able to make his Comoedy a Briefe. For where your pitty must your judgement be, Tis not a Play, but you fir'd houses see. Look not his quill, then, should petitions run; No Gathering's heere into a Prologue spun. Whither their sold Scenes be dislikt, or hit, Are cares for them who eat by th' stage, and wit. He's One, whose unbought Muse did never feare An Empty second day, or a thinne share; But can make th' Actors, though you come not twice, No Loosers, since we act now at the Kings price. Who hath made this Play publique, and the same Power that makes Lawes, redeem'd this from the flame. For th' Author builds no fame, nor doth aspire To praise, from that which he condemn'd to th' fire. He's thus secure, then, that he cannot winne A Censure sharper then his own hath beene. The Persons of the Play. An old Merchant. His Nephew. His Factor. Old Plotwell disguised. Penelope Plotwell his daughter. A Merchant. His Wife. His Sonne. Susan Seathrift his daughter. Two Templers. Two Templers. A Puritan Schoolemistresse. A Seamster on the Exchange. A Captaine. A Poet. One that keeps an Ordinary. His wife.

The SCENE LONDON.

 ACTVS I. SCENA I. Ware-house. Seathrift. I Promise you 'twill be a most rare plot. Ware-h. The Citty, Mr Seathrift, never yet Brought forth the like; J would have them that have Fin'd twice for Sheriffe mend it. Seath. Mend it? Why Tis past the wit oth' Court of Aldermen. Next Merchant Taylor that writes Chronicles Will put us in. Ware-h. For, since I tooke him home, Though, Sir, my Nephew, as you may observe, Seeme quite transfigur'd, be as dutifull As a new prentice; in his talke declaime Gainst revelling Companions, be as hard To be entic'd from home as my doore posts▪ This reformation may but be his part, And he may act his vertues. I have not Forgot his riots at the Temple. You know Sr— Seath. You told me Mr Warehouse. Ware-h. Not the sea When it devour'd my ships cost me so much As did his vanities. A voyage to th' Indyes Has been lost in a night. His dayly suits Were worth more then the stock that set me up. For which he knew none but the Silk-mans book, And studied that more then the Law. He had His Loves too, and his Mistresses; was enterd Among the philosophicall Madams, was As great with them as their Concerners, and I heare Kept one of them in pension. Seath. My sonne too Hath had his Errours; I could tell the time When all the wine which I put off by whole sale He took againe in quarts, and at the day Vintners have paid me with his large scores. But He is reformed too. Ware-h. Sr, we now are friends In a designe. Seath. And hope to be in time Friends in Allyance, Sir. Ware-h. Ile be free, I think well of your sonne. Seath. Who, Timothy? Believ't a vertuous boy, and for his sister A very Saint. Ware-h. Mistake me not, I have The like opinion of my Nephew, Sir, Yet he is young, and so is your sonne, nor Doth the Church-book say they are past our feares. Our presence is their bridle now: Tis good To know them well whom we doe make our Heires. Seath. It is most true. Ware-h. Well, and how shall wee knowe How They will use their fortune, or what place We have in their affection without tryall? Some wise men build their own Tombes, let us try If we were dead whether our Heires vvould cry, Or their long clokes: this plot vvill do't. Seath. Twill make us Famous upon the Exchange for ever. Ile home And take leave of my vvife and sonne. Ware-h. And Ile Come to you at your Garden house▪ vvithin there. Ex. Seath. Enter Cypher. SCENA II. Warehouse. Cypher. NOvv Cypher, where's my Nephew? Cyph. In the Hall Reading a letter vvhich a footman brought Just now to him from a Lady Sir. Ware-h. A Lady? Cyph. Yes, Sir, a Lady in distresse; for I Could overheare the fellow say she must Sell her Coach Horses, and returne againe To her Needle, if your Nephew not supply her With mony. Ware-h. This is some honourable seamstresse. I'me now confirmd: They say he keeps a Lady, And this is she. well Cypher, tis too late To change my project now. Be sure you keep A Diary of his Actions, strictly marke What company comes to him, if he stirre Out of my house observe the place he enters. Watch him till he come out: follow him disguised To all his haunts. Cyph. He shall not want a spy Sir. But Sir when you are absent if he draw not A Lattice to your doore, and hang a bush out— Ware-h. I hope he will not make my house a Taverne. Cyph. Sir I'me no Sybils sonne. Ware-h. Peace here he comes. Enter Plotwell in a sad posture. SCENA III. Ware-house. Plotwell. Cypher. Good morrow Nephew: how now? sad? how comes This melancholy? Plotw. Can I choose but weare Clowdes in my face when I must venture, Sir, Your reverend age to a long doubtfull voyage And not partake your dangers? Ware-h. Fye, these feares Though they become you, Nephew, are ominous. When heard you from your Father? Plotw: Never since He made the escape Sir. Ware-h. I heare he is in Ireland: I'st true he tooke your sister with him? Plotw. So Her Mistresse thinks, Sir, one day she left the Exchange, And has not since been heard of. Ware-h. And Nephew How like you your new course? which place preferre you The Temple or Exchange? where are, think you, The wealthier Mines in the Indies, or Westminster Hall? Plotw. Sir my desires take measure And forme from yours. Ware-h. Nay tell me your minde plainely, Ith' City tongue. I'de have you speake like Cypher. I doe not like queint figures, they doe smell Too much o'th Innes of Court. Plotw. Sir, my obedience Is ready for all impressions which— Ware-h. Againe? Plotw. Sir I preferre your kinde of life, a Merchant Ware-h. Tis spoken like my Nephew: Now I like you. Nor shall I ere repent the benefits I have bestow'd, but will forget all Errours, Exit Cyph. As meere seducements: And will not only be An Unkle but a Father to you: But then You must be constant, Nephew. Plotw. Else I were blind To my good fortune, Sir. Ware-h. Think man how it may In time make thee oth' Citie Senate, and raise thee▪ To th' sword and Cap of Maintenance. (Plotw. Yes, & make me Sentence light bread, and pownds of butter on horse-back.) Ware-h. Have Gates and Conduits dated from thy yeare▪ Ride to the Spittle on thy free beast. (Plotw. Yes, Free of your Company.) Ware-h. Have the people vaile As low to his trappings as if he thrice had fined For that good times imployment. (Plotw. Or as if He had his Riders vvisdome.) Ware-h. Then the workes And good deeds of the Citie to goe before Thee, Besides a troop of Varlets. (Plotw. Yes, and I To sleep the sermon in my Chaine and Scarlet. Ware-h. How say you? Lets heare that. Plotw. I say, Sir, I To sit at sermon in my chaine and scarlet. Ware-h. Tis right, and be remembred at the Crosse. Plotw. And then at Sessions, Sir, and all times else, Master Recorder to save me the trouble, And understand things for me. Ware-h. All this is possible, And in the starres and windes: therefore deare Nephew, You shall pursue this course, and to enable you In this halfe yeare that I shall be away, Cypher shall teach you French, Italian, Spanish, And other Tongues of Traffique Plotw. Shall J not learne Arithmetick too, Sir, and short-hand? Ware-h. Tis well Remembred, yes, and Navigation. Enter Cypher. Cyph. Sir, Mr Seathrift saies you 'will loose the tyde, The boat staies for you. Ware-h. Well, Nephew, at my return As J heare of your carriage, you doe know What my intentions are; and for a Token How much I trust your reformation, Take this key of my Counting-house, and spend Discreetly in my absence. Farwell. Nay No teares▪ Ile be here sooner then you think on't Cypher you know what you have to do. Cyph. I warrant you, Sr. Plotw. Teares? yes my melting eyes shall run, but it Exit Shall be such teares as shall encrease the tide To carry you from hence. Cyph. Come Mr Plotwell shall I Read to you this morning. Plotw. Read what? how the price. Of sugar goes, how many pints of Olives Goe to a jarre, how long wine workes at sea, What difference is in gaine betweene fresh herrings And herrings red? Cyph. This is fine, ha you Forgot your Uncles charge? Plotw. Prithee what was't? Cyph. To learne the Tongues & Mathematiques. Pl. Troth If I have tongue enough to say my prayers Ith' phrase oth' Kingdome J care not; otherwise I'me for no tongues but dry'd ones, such as will Give a fine rellish to my backragg; and for Mathematiques, I hate to travail by the Map, Me thinks Enter▪ Bright & Newcut. Tis riding post. Cyph. I knew twould come to this. Here be his Camerades. Plotw. What my Fleetstreet friends? Exit Cypher. SCENA IV. To Him Bright and Newcut. Br. SAve you Merchant Plotwell. Newc. Mr Plotwell Citizen and Merchant, save you. Br. Is thy Uncle Gone the wisht voyage? Plotw. Yes, he's gone, and if He dye by th' way hath bequeathd me but some Twelve hundred pound a yeare in Kent, some three- Score thousand pound in money, besides Jewels, Bonds, And desperate debts. New. And dost not thou fall downe And pray to th' windes to sacrifice him to Poore John and Mackrell? Br. Or invoke some rock To doe thee justice? New. Or some compendious Canon To take him off ith' middle? Plotw. And why my tender Softhearted friends? Br. What to take thee from the Temple To make thee an old Juryman, a Whittington? New. To transforme thy plush to pennystone, and scarlet Into a velvet Jacket which hath seene Aleppo twice, is knowne to the great Turke, Hath scapt three shipwracks to be left off to thee, And knowes the way to Mexico as well as the Map? Br. This Jacket surely was imploy'd in finding The Northeast passage out. Or the same Jacket That Coryat died in. Plotw. Very good. New. In Ovid There is not such a Metamorphosis As thou art now. To be turnd into a tree Or some handsome beast is courtly to this. But for thee, Franck, O Transmutation! Of Satin chang'd to Kersy hose I sing. Slid his shooes shine too. Br. They have the Gresham dye. Dost thou not dresse thy selfe by 'em? I can see My face in them hither. Plotw. Very pleasant Gentlemen. Br. And faith for how many yeares art thou bound? Plotw. Doe you take me for a prentice? New. Why then what office Dost thou beare in the parish this yeare? Let's feele, No batteries in thy head to signifie Th'art Constable? Br. No furious Iugge broke on it In the Kings name? Plotw. Did you contrive this scene By the way Gentlemen? New. No, but the Newes Thou shouldst turne Trades-man, and this Pagan dresse, In which if thou shouldst dye thou wouldst be damned For an Usurer, is comicall at the Temple. We were about to bring in such a fellow For an Apostate in our Antimasque. Set one to keep the doore, provide halfe-crowne roomes, For Ile set bills up of thee, what shall I Give thee for the first day? Br. I, or second? For thou't endure twice or thrice comming in. Plotw. Well my conceipted Orient friends, bright Offsprings Oth' female silkworme, and Taylor male I deny not But you look well in your unpaid for Glory. That in these colours you set out the Strand, And adorne Fleet-street. That you may laugh at me Poore Working day oth' Citie, like two Festivals Escapt out of the Almanacke. New. Sirrah Bright, Didst look to heare such language beyond Ludgate? Br. I thought all wit had ended at Fleet-bridge. But wit that goes oth' the score, that may extend If't be a Courtiers wit into Cheapside. Plotw. Your Mercer lives there does he? I warrant you He has the patience of a burnt Heretique: The very faith that sold to you these silkes And thinks you'l pay for em is strong enough To save the Infidell part oth' world, or Antichrist. Br. W'are most mechannically abused. New. Let's teare His Jacket off. Br. A match take that side Plotw. Hold, hold. Br. How fraile a thing old velvet is, it parts They teare off his Iacket With as much ease and willingnes as two Cowards. New. The tenderst weed that ever fell a sunder. Plotw. Ha you your wits? what mean you? Br. Goe, put on One of thy Temple suits and accompany us, Or else thy Dimmity breeches be mortall. Plotw. You will Not strip me will you? New. By thy visible eares we will. Br. By this two handed Beaver; which is so thinne And light a Butterflies wings put to't would make it A Mercuries flying hat and soare aloft. Plotw. But doe you know to how much danger You tempt me? should my Uncle know I come Within the ayre of Fleet-street—. New. Will you make Your selfe fit for a coach againe, and come Along with us? Plotw. Well my two resolute friends You shall prevaile. But whether now are your Lewd motions bent? New. Weel' dine at Roseclaps, there We shall meet Captaine Quartfield, and his Poet, They shall shew us another fish. Br. But by the way we have agreed to see. A Lady, you Mechanick. Plotw. What Lady? New. Hast Not thou heard of the New-sprung Lady? Br. One That keeps her Coachman, Foot-boy, woman, and spends A thousand pound a yeare by wit. Plotw. How? wit? New. That is her patrimony, Sir; tis thought The fortune she is borne to will not buy A bunch of Turnips. Plotw. She is no Gamester is she? Nor carries false dice? Br. No, but has a Tongue, Wert in a Lawyers mouth, would make him buy All young Heires neere him. Plotw. But does no man know From whence she came? Br. As for hir birth she may Choose her own pedigree; it is unknowne Whither she be descended of some Ditch, Or Dutchesse. New. She's the wonder of the Court, And talke oth' Towne. Plotw. Her name? New. Aurelia. Plotw. I'ue heard of her. They say she does fight duells, And answers challenges in wit. Br. She has beene Thrice in the field. Plotw. Ith' the field? New. Yes, in Spring Garden. Has conquerd with no second but her woman. A Puritan, and has returnd with prizes. Plotw. And no drum beat before her? New. No, nor Colours Flourisht. She has made a vow never to marry Till she be won by Stratagem. Plotw. I long To see her. Br. Ith' name of Guild-hall who comes here? Enter Timothy. SCENA V. To them Timothy. Tim. By your leave Gentlemen. Plotw. Mr Timothy! Welcome from the New world. I lookt you should Ha past through halfe the signes in Heaven by this. And ha converst with Dolphins. What not gone To sea vvith your Father? Tim. No faith, I doe not love To goe to sea, it makes one lowsie, laies him In vvooden sheets, and lands him a preservative Against the plague. Besides, my Mother was Afraid to venture me. Plotw. Believ't she's wise, Not to trust such a wit to a thinne frayle barck Where you had saild vvithin three inches of Becomming a Jonas. Besides the tossing, to have All the fierce blustring faces in the Map Swell more tempestuously upon you then Lawyers preferrd, or Trumpeters. And vvhither Were you bound now? Tim. I only came to have Your judgement of my suit. Plotw. Surely the Taylor Has done his part. Tim. And my mother has done hers, For she has paid for't. I never durst be seen Before my Father out of Duretta and Serge. But if he catch me in such paltry stuffes, To make me looke like one that lets out mony, Let him say Timothy vvas borne a foole. Before he vvent he made me doe vvhat he list; Now he's abroad Ile doe vvhat I list. What Are these two? Gentlemen? Plotw. You see they weare Their Heraldry. Tim. But I mean can they roare, Beat Drawers, play at dice, and court their Mistresse. I mean forthwith to get a Mistresse. Plotw. But How comes this, Mr Timothy, you did not Rise such a gallant this morning. Tim. Alls on for that. My Mother lost her Maiden-head that I Might come first into th' world; and by Gods lid Ile beare my selfe like the elder brother, I. D'you think Ile all daies of my life frequent Saint Antlins, like my sister? Gentlemen I covet your acquaintance. Br. Your servant, Sir. New. I shall be proud to know you. Tim. Sir, my know∣ledge Is not much worth; I me borne to a small fortune, Some hundred thousand pound, if once my Father Held up his hands in Marble, or kneeld in brasse. What are you Inns of Court-men? New. The Catechisme Were false should we deny it. Tim. I shall shortly Be one my selfe, I learne to dance already, And weare short clokes; I mean in your next Masque To have a part, I shall take most extreamly. Br. You will inflame the Ladies, Sir. They'l strive Who shall most privately convey Jewels. Into your hand. New. This is an excellent fellow; Who is't? Plotw. Rich Seathrifts sonne thats gone to sea This morning with my Uncle. Br. Is this he Whose sister thou shouldst marry? The wench that brings Ten thousand pound. Plotw. My Uncle would fain have me, But I have cast her off. Br. Why? Plotw. Faith she's hand∣some, And had a good wit, but her Schoole-Mistresse Has made her a rank Puritan. New. Lets take him Along with us and Captaine Quartfield shall show him. Plotw. Twill be an excellent Comoedy, and afterwards I have a project on him. Tim. Gentlemen Shall we dine at an Ordinary? You Shall enter me among the Wits. Plotw. Sir, I Will but shift cloths then wee'l associate you. But first you shall with us and see a Lady, Rich as your Fathers chests and odde holes; and Fresh as Pygmalions Mistresse newly wakened Out of her Alablaster. Tim. Lead on; I long to see a Lady and to salute her. Exeunt. ACTVS II. SCENA I. Aurelia. Dorcas. WHY we shall have you get in time the turne Up of your Eyes, speak in the Nose, draw sighes Of an ell long, and rayle at Discipline. Would I could heare from Baneswright, ere Ile be torturd With your precisenesse thus, Ile get dry palmes With starching, and put on my smocks my selfe. Dor. Surely you may, and ayre'em too, there have been Very devout and holy women that wore No shift at all. Aur. Such Saints you meane as wore Their Congregations, and swarm'd with Christian Vermin. You'l hold cleane linnen Heresie? Dor. Surely yes, Cleane linnen in a Surplesse; That and powders Doe bring dry summers, make the sicknesse rage, And th' Enemy prevaile, It was revealed To Ms Scruple and her husband, who Doe verily ascribe the German warre, And the late persecutions, to curling, False Teeth, and Oyle of Talck. Aur. Now she is in A Lecturer will sooner hold his peace Then she. Dor. And surely, as Master Scruple saies, Aur. That was her Schoole-master. One that cooles a feast With his long grace, and sooner eats a Capon Then blesses it. Dor. And proves it very well Out of a book that sufferd Martyrdome By fire in Cheapside, since Amulets, and Bracelets, And Love-locks were in use, the price of sprats, Ierusalem Artichocks, and Holland Cheese, Is very much increased, so that the Brethren, Botchers I meane, and such poore zealous Saints, As earne five groats a week under a stall, By singing Psalmes, and drawing up of holes, Can't live in their vocation, but are faine To turne— Aur. Old breeches. Dor. Surely, Teachers and Prophets. SCENA II. To Them Baneswright. Aur. O Mr Baneswright, are you come? my woman Was in her preaching fit, she only wanted A Tables end. Banesw. Why whats the matter? Aur. Never Poore Lady had so much unbred holynesse About her person; I am never drest Without a sermon, but am forct to prove The lawfulnesse of curling irons before She'l crisp me in a morning; I must show Text for the fashions of my gownes, she'l aske Where Jewels are commanded, or what Lady Ith' primitive times wore ropes of pearle or rubyes; She will urge Councells for her litle ruffe Calld in Northampton shire; and her whole service Is a meere confutation of my clothes. Banesw. Why Madam, I assure you time hath beene However she be otherwise, when she had A good quick wit, and would have made to a Lady A serviceable sinner. Aur. She can't preserve (The guift for which I took her) but (as though She Were inspird from Ipswitch) she will make The Acts and Monuments in sweet-meats; Quinces Arraigned and burnt at a stake; all my banquets Are persequutions, and Dioclesians dayes Are brought for entertainment, and we eat Martyrs. Banesw. Madam she is farre gone. Aur. Nay, Sir, she is A Puritan at her needle too. Banesw. Indeed? Aur. She works religious petticoats; for flowers She'l make Church Histories; her needle doth So sanctify my Cushionets, besides My smock-sleeves have such holy imbroderies, And are so learned, that I feare in time All my apparell will be quoted by Some pure Instructer. Yesterday I went To see a Lady that has a Parrot, my woman While I was in discourse converted the fowle. And now it can speak nought but Knoxes workes, So theres a parrot lost. Banes. Faith Madam she Was earnest to come to you, had I knowne Her Mistresse had so bred her I would first Ha preferd her to new England. Dor. Surely, Sir, You promised me when you did take my mony To help me to a faithfull service, a Lady That would be saved. Not one that loves profane, Unsanctified fashions. Aur. Fly my sight You gooddy Hofman, and keep your chamber till You can provide your selfe some cure, or I Will forthwith excommunicate your zeale, And make you a silent waiting woman. Banes. Ms Dorcas, If you'l be usher to that holy learned woman That can heale broken shinnes, scald heads, and th' Itch, Your schoole-mistresse, that can expound, and teaches To knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers, Ile hlpe you back againe. Dor. The motion sure is good And I will ponder of it. Aur. From thy zeale, Ex. Dorcas. The frantick Ladies judgements, and Histriomastix, Deliver me. This was of your preferring, You must needs help me to another. Banes. How Would you desire her qualified, deformed And crooked like some Ladies, who doe weare Their women like black patches to set em of? Aur. I need no foile, nor shall I think I'me white Only between two Moores; or that my nose Stands wrong, because my womans doth stand right. Banes But you would have her secret, able to keepe Strange sights from th' knowledge of your Knight vvhen you Are married, Madam, of a quick faining head? Aur. You vvrong me, Baneswright, she vvhom I vvould have, Must to her handsome shape have vertue too. Banesw. Well Madam I shall fit you. I doe know A cholerick Lady which within these three weekes Has, for not cutting her cornes vvell, put off Three vvomen; and is now about to part With th' fourth, just one of your description. Next change oth' Moone, or vveather, vvhen her feet Doe ake againe, I doe believe I shall Pleasure your Ladiship. Aur. Expect your reward. Exit Baneswright. SCENA III. To Her Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell. Tim. LAdy, let me tast the Elizium of your lips. Aur. Why what are you? you will not leap me, Sir, Pray know your distance. Tim. What am I sweet Lady? My Father is an Aldermans fellow, and I Hope to be one in time. Aur. Then, Sir, in time You may be remembred at the quenching of Fired houses, when the bells ring backward, by Your name upon the Buckets. Tim. Nay they say You have a good wit Lady, and I can finde it Assoone as another: I in my time have been Oth' University, and should have been a scholler. Aur. By the size of your wit, Sir, had you kept To that profession, I can foresee You would have been a great persecuter of Nature▪ And great consumer of rush Candles, with As small successe, as if a Tortoise should Day and night practise to run races: Having Contemplated your selfe into ill lookes, In pitty to soe much affliction, You might ha past for learned: and 't may be, If you had fallen out with the Muses, and Scapt Poetry, you might have risen to scarlet. Tim. Heres a rare Lady with all my heart, by this Light Gentlemen, now have I no more language Then a dumb parrot, a litle more shee'l jeere me Into a fellow that turnes upon his toe In a steeple and strikes quarters. Br. And why should you Be now so dainty of your lips? verily They are not Virgins, they have tasted Man. Aur. And may againe but then Ile be secur'd, For the sweet ayre oth' parties. If you Will bring it me confirm'd under the hands Of foure sufficient Ladies that you are Cleane men, you may chance kisse my woman. New. Ladie, Our lips are made of the same clay that yours, And have not been refused. Aur. Tis right you are Two Inns of Court-men. Br. Yes, what then? Aur. Known Cladders Through all the Towne. Br. Cladders? Aur. Yes, Catholick Lovers, From Countrye Madams to your Glovers wife, Or Laundresse; will not let poore Gentlewomen Take physick quietly, but disturb their pills From operation with your untaught visits. Or if they be imployd, contrive small plots Below staires with the Chamber-maid; commend Her fragrant breath, which five yards of salutes, At foure deflowers a Rose, at three kils spiders. New. What dangerous truths these are? Aur. Ravish a lock From the yellow waiting-woman, use stratagems To get her silver whistle, and way-lay Her pewter knots or bodkin. New. Pretty, pretty. Br. You think you have abused us now? Aur. Ile tell you, Had I in all the world but forty Mark, And that got by my needle and making socks; And were that fortie Mark Mil-sixpences, Spurroyals, Harry groats, or such odde coine Of husbandry as in the Kings raigne now Would never passe, I would despise you. New. Lady, Your wit will make you die a witherd virgin. Br. We shall in time when your most tyrant tongue Hath made this house a wildernesse, and you As unfrequented as a states man fallen; When you shall quarrel with your face and glasse, Till from your pencill you have raisd new cheeks, See you beg suitors, write Bills ore your doore, Here is an ancient Lady to be let. New. You think you are handsome now, and that your eyes Make star-shooting, and dart? Aur. 'Tmay be I doe. New. May I not prosper if I have not seene A better face in signes, or ginger-bread. Tim. yes, I for two pence oft have bought a better. Br. What a sweet innocent looke you have! Plotw. Fye gentlemen, Abuse a harmlesse Lady thus, I can't With patience heare your blasphemies. Make me Your second Madam. Tim. And make me your third. Aur. O prodigie to heare an Image speake. Why, Sir, I tooke you for a Mute ith' Hangings. Ile tell the faces. Tim. Gentlemen doe I Look like one of them Trojans? Aur. Tis so, your face Is missing here, Sir, pray step back againe And fill the number; you I hope have more Truth in you then to filch your selfe away, And leave my roome unfurnisht. Plotw. By this light She'l send for a Constable straight and apprehend him For the every. Tim. Why Lady doe you think me Wrought in a Loome, some Dutch peece weavd at Mooreclack▪ Aur. Surely you stood so simply, like a Man Penning of Recantations, that I suspected Y' had been a part of the Monopolie. But now I know you have a tongue, and are A very Man, Ile think you only dull, And pray for better utterance. Plotw. Lady you make Rash judgement of him, he was only struck With admiration of your beauty. Tim. Truly And so I was. Aur. Then you can wonder, Sir? Plotw. Yes when he sees such miracles as you. Aur. And love me can't you? Tim. Love you? By this hand Ide love a dog of your sweet looks; I am Enamour'd of you Lady. Aur. Ha, ha, ha, now surely I wonder you weare not a cap; your case Requires warme things, Ile send you forth a Cawdle. Exit. Br. The plague of rotten teeth, wrincles, lowd lunges Be with you Madam. Tim. Had I now pen and inke, If I were urgd I'de faine know whether I In conscience ought not to set down my selfe No wiser then I should be. Plotw. Gentlemen How like you her wit? Tim. Wit? I verily Believe she was begotten by some wit; And he that has her, may beget plaies on her. New. Her wit had need be good▪ it finds her house. Tim. Her house? Tis able to find the Court, if she Be chast to all this wit, I doe not think But that she might be showne. Br. She speaks with salt, And has a pretty scornefulnesse, which now I'ue seen I'me satisfied. New. Come then away; To Roseclaps. Tim. Lead on, Let us dine: This Lady Runnes in my head still. Foot. Sir, My Lady prayes. Enter a Footman. You would dismisse your company, she has Some businesse with you. Plotw. Gentlemen walk softly, Ile overtake you. Br. Newcut 'slight her wit is come to private meetings. New. I, J thought She had some other vertues. Well make hast, We'l stay without, when thou hast done informe us What the rate is; if she be reasonable Wee'l be her Customers. Plotw. Y'are merry, Sir. Ex. Br. New. Tim. Enter Aurelia. SCENA IV. Plotwell. Aurelia. NAy sister you may enter, they are gone. I did receive your ticket this morning. What? You look the Mine should run still? Aur. O you are A carefull brother, to put me on a course That drawes the eyes oth' Towne upon me, and makes me Discourse for Ordinaries, then leave me in't. I will put off my Ladiship, and returne To M' Holland, and to making shirts, And bands againe. Plotw. I hope you will not. Aur. I Repent I left th' Exchange. Plotw. Faith I should laugh To see you there againe, and there serve out The rest of your Jndentures, by managing Your Needle well, and making Night-caps, by A Chafing dish in winter mornings, to keep Your fingers pliant. How rarely 'twould become you To run ore all your shop to passengers In a fine sale tune? Aur. What would you have me doe? D'you think I'me the Dutch Virgin that could live By th' sent of Flowers? Or that my familie Are all descended of Chameleons, And can be kept with ayre? Js this the way To get a husband to be in danger to be Shut up for house-rent, or to weare a gowne Out a whole fashion, or the same Jewels twice? Shortly my neighbours will commend my clothes, For lasting well, give them strange dates, and cry Since your last Gorget and the blazing starre. Plotw. Prythee excuse me sister, I can now Raine showers of silver into thy lap againe; My Vncle's gone to sea, and has left me The key to th' golden fleece. Thou shalt be still. A Madam, Pen, and to maintaine thy Honour, And to new dub thee take this. But sister, I Gives her a Purse. Expected you ere this out of the Throng Of suitors that frequent you, should have beene Made a true Lady, not one in Type or showe. I feare you are too scornefull, looke too high. Aur. Faith brother 'tis no age to be put off With empty education; few will make Ioyntures To wit or good parts. I may dye a Virgin, When some old widdow which at every cough Resignes some of her teeth, and every night Puts off her Leg as duly as french Hood, Scarce weares her owne Nose, hath no eyes but such As she first bought in Broad-street, and every morning Is put together like some Instrument, Having full Coffers shall be wooed, and thought A youthfull Bride. Plotw. Why sister will you like A Match of my projection? you doe know How ruinous our fathers fortunes are; Before he broke you know there was a Contract Betweene you and young Sea-thrift. What if I Make it a wedding? Aur. Marry a foole? in hope To be a Lady Maioresse? Plotw. Why sister, I Could name good Ladyes that are faine to finde Wit for themselves & Knights too. Aur. I have heard Of one whose husband was so meek, to be For need her Gentleman usher, and while she Made visits above staires would patiently Finde himselfe businesse at Tre-trip ith' Hall. Plotw. He's only City bred, one month of your Sharp conversation will refine him; besides How long wilt be ere your dissembled state Meet such another offer? Aur. Well Brother you shall Dispose of my affections. Plotw. Then sometime This afternoone Ile bring him hither▪ doe you Provide the Priest; your Dining roome will serve As well as the Church. Aur. I will expect you. Exeunt severall waies. SCENA V. Enter Captaine Quart-field beating Rose-clap. Sale-wit and Millicent labouring to part 'em. Quart Sirrah, Ile beat you into aire. Ros. Good Captaine. Quartf. I will by Hector. Ros. Murder, murder, help. Quartf. You needy, shifting, cousning, breaking slave. Mill. Nay, Mr Salewit, help to part 'em. Salew. Captaine. Quartf. Aske me for mony, dog? Ros. Oh! I am killd. Mill. Help. Help. Salew. Nay Captaine. Q. Men of my coat pay? Mill. Jle call in neighbours. Murder. Murder. Q. Rascal Jle make you trust and offer me petitions To goe oth' score. Ros. Good, tis very good. Mil. How does thy head sweetheart? Ros. Away be quiet, Mill. Salew. Roseclap, you'l never leave this, I did tell you Last time the Captaine beat you what a Lion He is being askt for reckonings. Mill. So you did Jndeed good Mr Salewit; yet you must Ever be foolish husband. Salew. What if we Doe owe you mony, Sir, ist fit for you To aske it? Ros. Well, Sir, there is law; J say No more, but there is law. Quartf. What law you Curre? The law of Nature, Custome, Armes, and Nations, Frees men of war from paiments. Ros. Yes, your Armes Cap∣taine, None else. Q. No souldiers ought to pay. Sale. Nor Poets: All void of mony are privileged. Mil. What would you have, Captaines and Poets, Mr Salewit saies, Must never pay. Salew. No, nor be askt for monie. Ros. Still I say there is law. Quartf. Say that againe, And by Bellona J will cut thy throat. Mill. You long to see your braines out. Quartf. Why you Mungrill, You Iohn of all Trades, have we been your guests Since you first kept a Taverne, when you had The face and impudence to hang a bush Out to three pints of Claret, two of Sack In all the world? Salew. After that, when you broke, Did we here finde you out, customd your House, And helpt away your victuals which had else Laine mouldy on your hands? Ros. You did indeed, And never paid for't. I doe not deny, But you have been my Customers these two yeares, My Jack went not, nor Chimney smoakt without you. I will goe farther; your two mouths have been Two as good eating Mouths as need to come Within my doores, as curious to be pleased As if you still had eaten with ready money: Had still the meats in season; still drunk more Then your Ordinary came to. Sale. And your conscience now Would have this paid for? Ros. Surely so I take it. Sale. Was ever the like heard? Qua. Tis most unreasonable He has a hardned conscience. Sirrah, Cheater, You would be questioned for your reckonings, Rogue. Ros. Doe you informe. Quartf. I heare one oth' Sheriffs Paid for the boyling of a Carp a Mark. Salew. Most unheard of exactions! Ros. Yet surely, Cap∣taine. No man had cheaper reckonings then your selfe, And Mr Salewit here. Quartf. How cheap? Ros. I say No more good Captaine; not to pay is cheap, A man would think. Quart. Sir, Dont you reckon Aire, And make it deare to breath in your house, and put The Nose to charges? Ros. Right, perfumd Aire, Captaine. Quartf. Is not the standing of the salt an Item, And placeing of the bread? Ros. A new way, Captaine. Quartf. Is not the folding of your Napkins brought Into the Bill? Ros. Pincht Napkins, Captaine, and laid Like Fishes, Fowles, or Faces. Salew. Then remember How you rate sallets, Roseclap; one may buy Gardens as Cheap. Ros. Yes, Mr Salewit, sallets Taken from Euclide, made in Diagrams, And to be eaten in Figures. Quartf. And we must pay For your Inventions, Sir. Ros. Or you are damnd, Good Captaine, you have sworne to pay this twelve-month. Quartf. Peace you lowd, bawling Curre; doe you disgrace me Before these Gallants, See if I don't kill you. SCENA VI. To Them Bright. Newcut. Timothy. Plotwell. Br. SAve you Captaine Quartfield, and my brave Wit, My man of Helicon, salute this Gentleman, He is a City wit. New. A Corporation Went to the bringing of him forth. Quartf. I embrace him; Salew. And so doe I. Tim. You are a Poet, Sir, And can make Verses, I heare? Salew. Sir, I am A servant to the Muses. Tim. I have made Some speeches, Sir, in verse, which have been spoke By a greene Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside Conduit, To my Fathers Company; and meane this afternoone To make an Epithalamium upon my wedding. A Lady fell in love with me this morning, Ask Mr Francis here. Plotw. Heart you spoile all, Did not I charge you to be silent? Tim. That's true, I had forgot. you are a Captaine, Sir? Quartf. I have seen service, Sr. Tim. Captain I love Men of the sword, and buffe, and if need were I can roare too, and hope to sweare in time, Doe you see, Captaine. Plot. Nay Captaine we have brought you A Gentleman of valour who has been In Moore-fields often, marry it has beene To squire his sisters, and demolish Custards At Pimlico. Quartf. Afore me, Mr Plotwell, I never hop't to see you in silk againe. Salew. I lookt the next Lord Maiors day to see you oth' Livery, Or one oth' Batchelour Whiflers. Quartf. What is Your Uncle dead? Plotw. He may in time; he's gone To sea this morning, Captaine, and J am come Jnto your order againe. But hark you, Captaine, What think you of a Fish now? Qu. Mad wags, mad wags. Br. By Heaven its true, here we have brought one with us. New. Rich Seathrifts sonne, he'l make a rare sea-Monster. Quartf. And shall's be merry yfaith? Br. Salewit shal make A song upon him. New. And Roseclaps boy shall sing it. Salew. We have the properties of the last fish. Quartf. And if I At dinner doe not give him sea enough, And afterwards if I, and Salewit doe not Showe him much better then he that showes the Tombs, Let me be turnd into a Sword-fish my selfe. Plotw. A naturall change for a Captaine. How now Roseclap, Pensive and cursing the long Vacation? Thou look'st as if thou meanst to breake shortly. Ros. Aske The Captaine why I am sad. Quartf. Faith Gentlemen, I disciplin'd him for his rudenes. Plotw. Why these Are Iudgements, Roseclap, for deare reckonings. Tim. Art thou The halfe Crowne fellow of the house? Ros. Sir, I Doe keepe the Ordinary. Tim. Let's have wine enough; I meane to drinke a health to a Lady. Plotw. Still Will you betray your fortune? One of them Will goe and tell her who you are, and spoyle The Marriage. Tim. Noe, peace. Gentlemen if you'l Goe in wee'l follow. Ros. Please you enter, dinner Shall straight be set upon the board. Br. Wee'l expect you, Ex: Br. New. Salew. Quart. Rosecl. Come Gentlemen. Tim. But Mr Francis, was that The busines why she calld you backe. Plotw. Believe it Your Mothers smock shin'd at your birth, or else You weare some Charme about you. Tim. Not I truly. Plotw. It can not be she should so strangely dote Vpon you else: slight had you stayd, I thinke She would have wooed you her selfe. Tim. Now I remember One read my fortune once, and told my father That I should match a Lady. Plotw. How things fall out? Tim. And did she ask you who I was? Plotw. I told her You were a young Knight. Tim. Good. Pl. Scarce come to th' years Of your discretion yet. Tim. Good still. Pl. And that a great Man Did meane to beg you for his daughter. Tim. Most rare. This afternoone's the time? Plotw Faith she Looks you should use a litle Courtship first, That done, let me alone to have the Priest In readinesse. Tim. But were I not best aske My friends consent? Pl. How? Friends consent? thats fit For none but Farmers sonnes, and Milk-maids. You shall not Debase your judgement. She takes you for a wit, And you shall match her like one. Tim. Then I will. Plotw. But no more words to th' Gallants. Tim. Doe you think I am a sive and cannot hold. Ros. Gentlemen Enter Roseclap. The company are sate. Tim. It shall be yours. Plotw. Nay, Sir, your fortune claimes precedency. Exeunt. SCENA VII. Ware-house. Sea-thrift. Cypher. Ware-h. FEtcht abroad by two Gallants say you? Cy. Yes, Sir, Assoone as you were gone; he only staid To put on other clothes. Seath. You say my sonne Went with em too? Cyph. Yes, Sir. War. And whether went they? Cyph. I followd'em to Roseclaps Ordinary Ware-h. And there you left em? Cyph. Yes, Sir, Just before I saw some Captaines enter. Seath. Well, I give My sonne for lost, undone, past hope. Ware-h. There is No more but this wee'l thither straight. You Cypher Have your instructions. Cyph. Sir, let me alone To make the story dolefull. Ware-h. Goe, make you ready then▪ Now, Mr Seathrift, you may see, what these Exit. Young men would doe left to themselves. Sea-th. My sonne Shall know he has a sister. Ware-h. And my Nephew That once he had an Uncle. To leave land Unto an unthrift is to build on sand. ACTVS III. SCENA I. Bright. Newcut. Plotwell. Rosclap. hanging out the picture of a strange fish. Br. FOre Jove the Captaine foxt him rarely. Ros. O Sir He is used to it; this is the fift fish now That he hath showne thus. One got him twenty pound. New. How Rosclap? Ros. Why the Captaine kept him, Sir, A whole weeke drunk, and showd him twice a day. New. It could not be like this. Ros. Faith I doe grant This is the strangest fish. you I have hung His other picture into th'fields, where some Say tis an oregrowne Porcpisce; others say Tis the fish caught in Cheshire; one to whom The rest agree, said 'twas a Mermaid. Plotw. S'light, Roseclap, shalt have a patent of him. The Birds Brought from Peru, the hairy Wench, the Camel, The Elephant, Dromedaries, or Winsor Castle, The Woman with dead flesh, or She that washes, Threds needles, writes, dresses her children, playes Oth' Virginalls with her feet, could never draw People like this. New O that his Father were At home to see him. Plotw. Or his Mother come, Who followes strange sights out of Towne, and went To Branford to a Motion. Br. Bid the Captaine hasten, Or hee'l recover and spoile all. Ros. Th'are here. SCENA. II. Enter Quartfield and Salewit drest like two Trumpeters, keeping the doore Mrs Seathrift and Mrs Hol∣land with a Prentice before 'em as commers in. Quart. BEarback there. Sale. Pray you doe not presse so hard. Quart. Make roome for the two Gentlewomen. Mrs. Seath. What is't? Sal. Twelvepence a peece. Ms Holl. We will not give't. Q. Make roome For them that will then. Plotw. O fortune here's his Mother. Br. And who's the other? Plotw. One Ms Holland, the Great seamstresse on th'Exchange. Ms Holl. We gave but a groat To see the last fish. Quart. Gentlewoman, that Was but an Irish Sturgeon. Salew. This came from The Indies, and eats five Crownes a day in frye, Oxe livers, and browne past. Ms Seath. Well there's three shil∣lings, Pray let us have good places now. Quartf. Beare back there. Ms Holl. Look Ms Seathrift here be Gentlemen. Sure tis a rare Fish. Ms Seath. J know one of'em, Ms Holl. And so doe I, his sister was my prentice. Ms Seath, Lets take acquaintance with him. Plotw. Ms Seathrift. Hath the sight drawne you hither? Ms Seath. Yes Sir I And Mrs Holland here, my Gossip, past This way and so cald in. Pray, Mr Plotwell, Is not my sonne here? I was told he went With you this morning. Plotw. You shall see him straight. Ms Holl. When will the Fish begin, Sir? Br. Heart she makes him A puppet play. Plotw. Why now they only stay For company, 't has sounded twice. Ms Seath. Indeed I long to see this fish; J wonder whither They will cut up his belly, they say a Tench Will make him whole againe. Ms Holl. Look Ms Seathrift, What clawes he has. Ms Seath. For all the world like Crabs. Ms Holl. Nay marke his feet too. Ms Seath. For all the world like Plaice. Br. Was ever better sport heard? New. Prythe peace. Ms Holl. Pray can you read that? Sir, I warrant you, That tells where it was caught, and what fish tis. Plotw. Within this place is to be seene, A wondrous Fish. God save the Queene. Ms Holl. Amen, she is my customer, And I Have sold her bonelace often. Br. Why the Queene? Tis writ the King. Plotw. That was to make the rime. Br. Slid thou didst read it as 'twere some picture of An Elzabeth fish. Quartf. Bear back there. Salew. Make room, you Friend that were going to cut a purse there, make Way for the two old Gentlemen to passe. Enter Ware-house & Seathrift disguis'd. Wareh. What must we give? Quartf. We take a shilling Sir. Salew. It is no lesse. Seath. Pray God your fish be worth it. What is't a whale you take so deare? Quart. It is A fish taken in the Indies. Wareh. Pray dispatch then, And showt, us quickly. Salew. Pray forbeare, you'd have Your head broke Cobler. Wareh. Yonder is my Nephew In his old Gallantry. Seath. Who's there too? my wife? And Ms Holland? Nay I lookt for them. But where's my wise sonne? Ware-h. Masse I see not him. Quartf. Keep out Sir. Salew. Waterman you must not enter. Cypher presses in like a wa∣terman. Quartf. This is no place for scullers. Cyph. I must needs Speak with one Mr Plotwell. Quart. You must stay. Salew. Thrust him out. Cyph. And one Mr Seathrift They thrust him out. On urgent businesse. Salew. They are yet imployd In waightier affaires, make fast the doore. Quartf. There shall no more come in: come in boy. Seat. Dont They speak as if my sonne were in the roome? Ware-h. Yes, pray observe & marke em. Quartf. Gentlemē, And Gentlewomen, you now shall see a sight, Drawes a Curtain behind it Timo∣thy a sleepe like a strange fish. Europe nere show'd the like; behold this fish. Ms Holl. O strange looke how it sleeps. Br. Iust like a Salmō Upon a stall in fishstreet. Ms Seath. How it snorts too, Just like my husband. Ware-h. Tis very like a man. Seath. Thas such a nose and eyes. Salew. Why tis a Man fish. An Ocean Centaure, begot between a Syren And a he stock fish. Seath. Pray where tooke ye him? Quartf. We tooke him strangely in the Indies, neere The mouth of Rio de la plata, a sleepe Upon the shore just as you see him now. Ms Holl. How say y', a sleepe. Ware-h. How? would he come to land? Seath. Tis strange a fish should leave his Element. Quartf. Aske him what things the Coūtry told us. Sal. You Will scarce believe it now. This fish would walke you Two or three mile oth'shore sometimes; break houses, Ravish a naked wench or two, (for there Women goe naked) then runne to Sea againe. Quartf. The Country has bin laid, and warrants granted To apprehend him. Ware-h. I doe suspect these fellowes, They lye as if they had patent for't. Seath. The company Should every one believe his part, would scarce Have faith enough among us. Ware-h. Marke againe. Salew. The States of Holland would have bought him of us Out of a great designe. Seath. Indeed? Salew. They offer'd A thousand dollars. Quart. You cannot enter yet. Some knock. Ware. Indeed? so much? pray what to doe? Salew. Why Sr, They were in hope in time to make this fish Of faction 'gainst the Spaniard, and doe service Vnto the state. Seath. As how? Salew. Why, Sr, next plate-fleet To dive, bore holes i'th bottome of their ships, And sinke em; you must think a fish like this May be taught MACHIAVEL, and made a state-fish; Plotw. As dogs are taught to fetch. New. Or Elephants To dance on ropes. Br. And pray what Honour would The States have given him for the service? Quartf. That, Sir, is uncertaine. Salew. Ha made him some sea Count; Or't may be Admirall. Plotw. Then, sir, in time, Dutch Authors that writ Mare Liberum, Might dedicate their books to him? Salew. Yes being A fish advanc't, and of great place. Sing boy. You now shall heare a song upon him. Br. Listen New. Doe they not act it rarely? Plotw. If 'twere their trade They could not doe it better. Seath. Heare you that sir? Ware-h. Still I suspect. Ms Holl. I warrant you this fish Will shortly be in a Ballad. Salew. Begin boy Song. We show no monstrous Crocodile, Nor any prodigy of Nile. No Remora that stops Your fleet, Like sergeants Gallants in the street. No sea-horse, which can trot or pace, Or swimme false gallop, post, or race. For crooked Dolphins we not care, Though on their back a fidler were. The like to this fish which we shew, Was nere in Fishstreet Old, or New. Nor ever servd to' th'sheriffs bord, Or kept in souse for the Major Lord. Had old Astronomers but seene This fish, none else in Heaven had been. Ms Holl. The song has wakned him, look, he stirres. Tim. Oh, Captaine—pox—take—you—Captaine. Ms Sea. Hark he speaks. Tim. Oh-my—stomack.- Wa. How's this? Se. Ile pawn my life This is imposture. Tim. Oh—Oh— Plot. Heart the Captaine Did not give him his full load. Wareh. Can your fish Speak friends? the proverb saies th'are mute. Qu. Ile tell you You will admire how docile he is, and how Hee'l imitate a man; tell him your name He will repeat it after you; he has heard me Calld Captaine and my fellow curse sometimes, And now you heard him say pox take you Captaine. Salew. And yesterday I but complaind my stomack Was over chargd, & how he minds it? New strange? Br. J is it not? Plotw. The towardnesse of a fish. Salew. Would you think when we caught him he should speak Drake, Drake. Br. And did he? Qu. Yes and Hawkins; A signe he was a fish that swum there, when These two compast the world. New. How should he learne Their names J wonder. Salw. From the saylers. New. That may be. Qu. He'l call for drink like me, or any thing He lacks. Tim. O-God-my-head.- Qu. D'you heare him? T. Oh, Hostesse—a—bason— Plotw. slid he'l spew. Br. No matter. Quart. Nay J have seene him foxt, and then maintaine A drunken Dialogue. Ms Holl. Lord how J long To heare a litle. Pray try him with some questions, Will you, my friend? Quartf. Sometimes he will be fullen, And make no answers. Salew. That is when he's angred, Or kept from drinke long. Quart. But Ile try him: Ms Sea. To see what Creatures may be brought to. Quart. Tim, You are drunke. Tim. Plague take you Captaine—Oh—Lord You—made—me— Sea. S'death my sonnes name. Tim D' you call him? Sal. He'l answer to no name but that. Q. And Tim, What thinke you of a wench now? Tim. Oh Ime sicke Where is she, Oh. Seath. Ile lay my life this fish Is some confederate Rogue. Quart. I drinke t' you, Timothy, In sack. Tim. Oh Oh. Quart. A health, Tim. Tim. I can drink No more, Oh. Salew. What not pledge your Mistresse? Tim. Oh, Let me alone. Salew. He is not in the mood now. Sometimes you'd wonder at him. Quartf. He is tired With talking all this day. That and the heat Of company about him, dull him. Ware-h. Surely, My friends, it is to me a miracle To heare Fish speak thus. Quartf. So, Sir, 't has been To thousands more. Salew. Come now next Michaelmas, Tis five yeares we have showne him in most Courts In Christendome, and you will not believe How with meere travelling and observation, He has improv'd himselfe, and brought away The language of the Country. Seath. May not I Aske him some questions? Quartf. Sir, you may, but he Will answer none but one of us. Ms Sea. He's used, Knocking at doore. And knowes their voices. Salew. He is so Ms. Now We'l open doore. Wareh. Well my beliefe doth tell me There is a mist before our eyes. Seath. I mar'le My wise sonne mist this show. Quart. Good people, we Doe show no more to day; if you desire They draw the Cur∣taine before him. To see, come to us in Kings-street to morrow Ms Holl. Come Gossip let us goe, the Fish is done. Ms Seath. By your leave Gentlemen. Truly tis a dainty fish. Exit Ms Seath. Ms Holland and Prentice. SCENA III. Enter to them Cypher like a Water-man. Cyph. PRay which is Mr Plotwell? Plotw. I'me he friend, What is your businesse? Cyph. Sir, I should speake with Yong Mr Seathrift too. Plotw. Sir, at this time, Although no Crab like you, to swim backward, he is Of your element. Cyph. Upon the water? Plotw. No But something that lives int. If you but stay Till he have slept himselfe a land Creature, you may Chance see him come a shore here. Tim. Oh—my—head— Oh—Captaine—Mr Francis—Captaine—Oh.— Plot. That is his voice Sir. Seath. Death o my soule my son? Cyph. He is in drink, Sir, is he? Plotw. Surely friend, You are a witch, he is so. Cyph. Then I must tell The newes to you, tis sad. Plotw. Ile hear't as sadly. Cyph. Your Uncle, Sir, and Mr Seathrift are Both drownd some 8 mile below Greenwitch. Pl. Drownd? Cyph. They went ith' Tilt boat, Sir, and J was one Oth' oares that rowed 'em, a Cole-ship did ore run us, I scapt by swimming, the two old Gentlemen Took hold of one another, and sunk together. Br. How some mens prayers are heard? we did invoke The sea this morning, and see, the Thames has took 'em. Plotw. It cannot be, such good newes, Gentlemen, Cannot be true. Ware-h. Tis very certaine, Sir, Twas talke upon th' Exchange. Seath. We heard it too In Pauls now as we came. Plotw. There friend, there is A fayre for you; I'me glad you scapt; I had Gives him many. Not knowne the newes so soone else. Cyph. Sir, excuse me, Plot. Sir, it is conscience; J doe believe you might Sue me in Chancery. Cyph. Sir, you show The vertues of an Heyre. Ware-h. Are you rich Ware-house Heyre, Sir? Plotw. Yes, Sir, his transitory pelfe, And some twelve hundred pound a yeare in earth, Is cast on me. Captaine, the houre is come, You shall no more drink. Ale, of which one draught Makes Cowards, and spoiles valour; nor take off Your moderate quart-glasse. I intend to have A Musket for you, or glasse Canon, with A most capacious barrell, which we'l charge, And discharge with the rich valiant grape of My Uncles sellar, every charge shall fire The glasse, and burne it selfe ith' filling, and look Like a Peece going off. Quartf. I shall be glad To give thanks for you, Sir, in pottle draughts, And shall love Scotch cole for this wrack the better, As long as I know fuell. Plotw. Then my Poet, No longer shall write Catches, or thinne Sonnets, Nor preach in verse, as if he were suborn'd By him that wrote the whip, to pen leane Acts, And so to overthrow the stage for want Of salt or wit. Nor shall he need torment Or persecute his Muse; but I will be His God of wine t'inspire him. He shall no more Converse with the five yard butler, who like Thunder Can turne beere with his voice, and roare it sower; But shall come forth a Sophocles, and write Things for the Buskin. Insteed of Pegasus, To strike a spring with's hoofe, we'l have a steele Which shall but touch a But, and straight shall flow A purer, higher, wealthier Helicon. Salew. Frank, Thou shalt be my Phoebus. My next Poem Shall be thy Uncles Tragoedie or the life And death of two Rich Merchants. Plotw. Gentlemen, And now yfaith what think you of the fish? Ware-h. Why as we ought, Sir, strangely. Br. But d'you think It is a very fish? Seath. Yes. New. Tis a man. Plotw. This valiant Captaine and this man of wit First foxt him, then transform'd him. we will wake him And tell him the newes. Ho Mr Timothy! Tim. Plague take you Captaine. Plotw. What does your sack work still? Tim. Where am I? Plotw. Come y'have slept enough. Br. Mr Timothy! How in the name of fresh Cod came you changed Into a sea Calfe thus? New. Slight, Sir, here be Two Fishmongers to buy you; beat the price Now y'are awake, your selfe. Tim. How's this? my hands Transmuted into Clawes? my feet made flownders? Arrayd in Finnes, and scales? arn't you Ashamd to make me such a Monster? pray Help to undresse me. Plotw. We have rare newes for you. Tim. No letter from the Lady I hope? Plotw. Your Father And my grave Uncle, Sir, are cast away. Tim. How? Plotw. They by this have made a meale For Jacks and Salmon. They are drownd. Br. Fall downe And worship sea-coales, for a ship of them Has made you, Sir, an Heyre. Plotw. This fellow here Brings the auspicious newes: And these two friends Of ours confirme it. Cyph. Tis too true, Sir. Tim. Well, We are all mortall; but in what wet case Had J been now, if I had gone with him. Within this fortnight I had been converted Into some Pike, you might ha cheapned me. In Fish-street; J had made an Ordinary, Perchance at the Mermaid: Now could I cry Like any Image in a fountaine which He faines to weepe. Runs Lamentations. O my hard misfortune! Seath. Fie Sir, good truth it is not manly in you, He feignes to weepe. To weep for such a slight losse as a father. Tim. I doe not cry for that. Seath. No? Tim. no; but to think My Mother is not drownd too. Seath I assure you, And thats a shrewd mischance. Tim. For then might I Ha gone to th' Counting house and set at liberty Those harmelesse Angels, which for many yeares Have been condemned to darknesse. Plotw. You'd not doe Like your penurious Father, who was wont To walk his dinner out in Pauls, whiles you Kept Lent at home, and had, like folk in seiges, Your meales weighed to you. New. Indeed they say he was A Monument of Pauls. Tim. Yes, he was there As constant as Duke Humphrey. I can show The prints where he sate holes ith' loggs. Plotw. He wore More pavement out with walking then would make A row of new stone-Saints, and yet refused To give to th' reparation. Br. I've heard Heed make his Jack goe emptie to cousen neighbours. Plotw. Yes, when there was not fire enough to warme A Mastick patch t' apply to his wives Temples In great extremity of tootach. This is True, Mr Timothy, ist not? Tim. Yes. Then Linnen. To us was stranger then to Capuchins. My flesh is of an Order with wearing shirts Made of the sacks that brought ore Cutchyneele, Copprice, and Indico. My sister weares Smocks made of Curran-bags. Seath. Ile not endure it. Lets show our selves. Ware-h. Stay heare all first. New. Thy Uncle Was such another Plotwell; I have heard He still last left th' Exchange; and would commend The wholsomenesse oth' ayre in Moore-fields, when The clock struck three sometimes. Plotw. Surely my selfe, Cypher his Factor, and an ancient Cat, Did keepe strict diet, had our Spanish fare, Foure Olives among three. My Uncle would Look fat with fasting; I ha knowne him surfet Upon a bunch of Raysins, swoone at sight Of a whole joynt, and rise an Epicure They undisguise. From halfe an Orange. Ware-h. Gentlemen tis false. Cast off your Clowd. D'you know me, Sir? Plotw. My Uncle! Sea. And doe you know me, Sir? Tim. My Father! War. Nay, We'l open all the plot, reveale your selfe. Plotw. Cypher the waterman! Qu. Salewit away; Exit Qu. Salewit. I feele a tempest comming. Ware. Are you struck With a Torpedo Nephew? Seath. Ha you seen too A Gorgons head that you stand speechlesse? or Are you a fish in earnest? Br. It begins to thunder. New. We will make bold to take our leaves. Ware. What is Your Captaine fled? Seath. Nay Gentlemen, forsake Your Company? Br. Sir, we wave businesse. Sea. Troth It is not kindly done. War. Now, Mr Seathrift, Ex. Br. New. You see what Mourners we had had, had we Been wrackt in earnest. My grievd Nephew here Had made my sellar flow with teares, my wines Had chargd glasse Ord'nance, our funeralls had been Bewaild in pottle draughts. Seath. And at our graves Your Nephew and my Sonne had made a Panegyrick, And opend all our vertues. Wa. Ungrateful Monster. Sea. Unnaturall villaine. Wareh. Thou Enimy to my bloud. Sea. Thou worse then Parricide. War. Next my sinnes I doe Repent I am thy Uncle. Sea. And I thy Father. Wareh. Death O my soule, did J when first thy Father Broke in estate, and then broke from the Counter Where Mr Seathrift laid him in the hole, For debt among the ruines of the City, And Trades like him blowne up, take thee from dust, Give thee free education, put thee in My own faire way of traffique; nay decree To leave thee Jewels, Land, my whole estate, Pardond thy former wildnesse, and couldst thou sort Thy selfe with none but idle Gallants, Captaines, And Poets, who must plot before they eat, And make each meale a stratagem? Then could none But J be subject of thy impious scoffes? I swoone at sight of meat; I rise a Glutton From halfe an Orange; Wretch, forgetfull wretch; Fore Heaven I count it treason in my bloud That gives thee a relation. But J'le take A full revenge. Make thee my Heyre? J'le first Adopt a slave, brought from some Gally; One Which Lawes doe put into the Inventory, And men bequeath in Wills with stooles, & brasse pots. One who shall first be houshold stuffe, then my Heyre. Or to defeat all thy large aimes J'le marry; Cypher, goe finde me Baneswright; he shall straight Provide me a wife. I will not stay to let My resolution coole. Be she a wench That every day puts on her Dowry, weares Her fortunes, has no portion, so she be Young and likely to be fruitfull, J'le have her; By all thats good I will; this afternoone; I will about it straight. Se. I follow you. Ex. Ware. Cyph. And as for you Tim Mermaid, Triton, Haddock, The wondrous Indian Fish caught neere Peru, Who can be of both Elements, your sight Will keep you well. Here J doe cast thee off, And in thy roome pronounce to make thy sister My heyre; it would be most unnaturall To leave a Fish Land. Lasse, Sir, one of your Bright sinnes and gills must swim in seas of sack, Spout rich Canaries up like Whales in Maps. I know you'l not endure to see my Jack Goe empty, nor weare shirts of Copprice bags, Nor fast in Pauls, you. J doe hate thee now, Worse then a Tempest, Quick-sand, Pyrate, Rock, Or fatall Leake, I or a Privy seale. Goe let the Captaine make you drunk, and let Your next change be into some Ape, (tis stale To be a Fish twice) or some active Baboone. And when you can find mony out, betray What wench ith' Roome has lost her maiden-head; Can mount to'th King, and can doe all your feats, If your fine chaine, and yellow coat come neere Th' Exchange, Jle see you, so I leave you. Plot. Now Ex. Sea. Were there a dextrons beame and two-pence hemp, Never had man such cause to hang himselfe. Tim. I have brought my selfe to a fine passe too▪ Now Am J fit only to be caught, and put Into a pond to leap Carps, or beget A goodly race of Pickrel▪ SCENA. IV. To them Quartfield. Salewit. Roseclap, and Baneswright. Quartf. HOw now mad Lads, what? is the storme broke up? Salew. What sad like brokē Gamsters? Mr Timothy 'Slight who would think your Father should lay weeles To catch you thus? Tim. If ever I be drunk With Captaines more—. Plotw. Where's Bright and Newcut? Salew. They Were sent for to the Temple, but left word They would be here at supper. Plotw. They are sure friends, To leave us in distresse: Quartf. What a mad plot These two old Merchants had contriv'd, to faine A voyage, then to hunt you out disguised, And heare themselves abused? Salew. We heard all. Quart. If J had staid they had paid me for a Captaine. Salew. They had a fling at me. But doe you think Your Uncle in this furious mood will marry? Plotw. He deeply swore it; if he doe, the slight Upon the cards, the hollow dye, Park corner, And Shooters hill are my revenue. Tim. Yes, And as for me, my destiny will be To fight by th' day, carry my Kitchen, and Collation at my back, weare orderly My shirt in course, after 't has been the shift Of a whole Regiment in the Low-Countries. And after all returne with halfe a leg, One arme perchance, my nose shot off, to move Compassion in my father, who in pitty To so much ruine my be brought to buy Some place for me in an Hospitall, to keep me From Bridges, Hill-tops, & from selling switches. Ent. Rosecl. Ros. Yonders your Uncle at the field dore talking With Baneswright, as hot, and earnest for a wench, As a recovered Monsieur. Quartf. What is this Baneswright? Salew. A fellow much imploid about the Towne, That contrives Matches. One that brings together Parties that never saw, or ever met, Till't be for good and all. Knowes to a penny Estates and Joyntures; J'le undertake he has Now lying by him unprovided some twenty Widdowes of all fortunes that want husbands, And men that want wives, and at an houres warning Can make things ready for the Priest. Quartf. Let us Devise to get him hither and crosse the Match. Plotw. I have great interest in him, the fellow loves me. Could I speake with him and draw him to be An Actor in't, J have a stratagem That can redeeme all, and turne the plot Enter Baneswright. Upon these sage heads. Salew. By Minerva, look, Heres Baneswright. Plot. Mr Baneswright! Ban. Save you Gal∣lants. Plotw. You are imploid I heare to find a wife out For my young sprightly Uncle. Banes. Sir, he has Retain'd me to that purpose. I just now Came from him. Plotw. And doe you meane the match Shall then proceed? Banesw. I have a Leiger wench In readinesse, he's gone to put himselfe Into fit ornaments, for the solemnitie. I'me to provide the Priest and Licence, we goe Some two houres hence to Church. Qu. Death you Pander. Forbid the banes or I will cut your wizzell; And spoile your squiring in the dark; J've heard Of your lewd function, Sirrah; you preferre Wenches to Bawdy-houses, Rascall. Banesw. Good, Sir. Threaten me not in my vocation. Plotw. Why Baneswright you can be but paid, say I Procure the wench, a friend of mine; and double Your bargaine, such a faire reward me thinks Should make thee of my project. Thou dost know My fortunes are ingaged, and thou maist be The happy instrument to recover 'em. Be my good Angell once, I have a plot Shall make thee famous. Quartf. By Mars deny, and I Will act a Tragoedy upon thee. Banes. Gentlemen, I am a friend to wit, but more to you, Sir. Of whose misfortunes I will not be guilty. Though, then, your Uncle have imploid me, and Have deeply sworne to wed this afternoone, A wife of my providing, if you can O'rereach the angry Burgesse, Sir, and bring His wisdome to the Ginne, show me the way I'le help to lay the trap. Quartf. Now thou art An honest hearted pimp, thou shalt for this Be drunk in Vine Dee, Rascall: I'le begin A Runlet to thee. Plotw. Gentlemen lets in, I'le tell you my designe; you, Salewit, must Transforme your selfe to a French Deacon. J have parts for Bright and Newcut too. Mischiefe Upon their absence. Salew. Wee'l send for 'em. Plot. And For Mr Timothy J have a project Shall make his father everlastingly Admire his wit, and aske him blessing. Quart. Come, Lets in and drink a health to our successe. Tim. I'me for no healths unlesse the glasse be lesse. Exeunt. ACTVS IIII. SCENA I. Stathrift. Ms Seathrift. Ms Holland. Ms Scruple. Seath. I did commit her to your charge that you Might breed her, Ms Scruple, and doe require Her at your hand. Here be fine tricks, indeed; My daughter Susan to be stolne a week, And you conceale it; you were of the plot, I doe suspect you. Ms Scru. Sir, will you but heare Me meekly? Seath. No, J'le never trust againe A woman with white eyes, that can take notes, And write a Comment on the Catechisme. All your devotion's false; ist possible She could be gone without your knowledge? Ms Scru. Will you Attend me, Ms Seathrift? If my husband To weane her from love courses, did not take More paines with her then with his Tuesday Lectures, And if J did not every day expound Some good things to her gainst the sinne oth' flesh, For feare of such temptations, to which fraile girles Are very subject, let me never more Be thought fit to instruct young Gentlewomen, Or deale in Tent-stitch. Who ere twas that seduced her, She took my daughter Emlins gowne and ruffe, And left her owne clothes: and my Schollers say She often would write Letters. Seath. Why tis right Some silenc't Minister has got her: that J Should breed my daughter in a Conventicle! Ms Seath. Pray husband be appeas'd. Seat. You are a foole. Ms Seath. You heare her Ms could not help it. Seath. Nor Your sonne help being a fish. Ms Holl. Why, Sir, was he The first that was abus'd by Captaines? Seath. Goe You talke like prating Gossips. Ms Holl. Gossips? slight What Gossips, Sir? Ms Seath. What Gossips are we? speak. Seath. J'le tell you since youd know: my wife and you, Shrill Ms Holland, have two tongues, that when Th'are in conjunction, are busier, and make More noise then country faires, and utter more tales Then blind-folkes, Mid-wives, Nurses. Then no show Though't be a Jugler scapes you. You did follow The Elephant so long, and King of Sweden, That people at last came in to see you. Then My sonne could not be made a Fish, but who Should I finde there much taken with the sight But you two? I may now build Hospitals, Or give my mony to Plantations. Exit Seath. Ms Seath. Lets follow him, come Ms Scruple. Ms Holl. Just As your Sue left her Schoole-mistresse, my Pen Left me. Ms Scru. They'l come againe J warrant you. Exeunt. SCENA II. Plotwell. Aurelia. Plotw. SIster tis so projected, therefore make No more demurres, the life of both our fortunes Lies in your carriage of things well▪ think therefore Whither you will restore me, and advance Your own affaires, or else within this week Fly this your lodging, like uncustomd sinners, And have your Coach-horses transformd to Rent, Have your apparell sold for properties, And you returne to Cut-work. By this hand If you refuse all this must happen. Aur. Well, Sir, Necessitie which hath no Law, for once Shall make me oth' conspiracy, and since We are left wholy to our wits, Let's show The power and vertue of 'em; if your Baneswright Can but perswade my Uncle, I will fit Him with a Bride. Plotw. The Scene is laid already; I have transformd an English Poet into A fine French Teacher, who shall joyne your hands With a most learned legend out of Rablais. Aur. But for my true groom who you say comes hi∣ther For a disguised Knight, I shall think I wed His Fathers Counting-house, and goe to bed To so much Bullion of a man▪ Faith I've No minde to him, brother, he hath not wit enough To make't a lawfull marriage. Plot. Y' are deceivd, I'le undertake by one weekes Tutoring, And carrying him to Plaies and Ordinaries, Engaging him in a quarrell or two, and making Some Captaine beat him, to render him a most Accomplisht Gallant. Or say he be borne, sister, Under the City planet, pray what wise Lady Desires to match a wise Knight? you'd marry some Philosopher now, that should every night Lye with you out of Aristotle, and loose Your maiden-head by Demonstration. Or some great statesman, before whom you must sit As silent and reservd as if your looks Had plots on forreine Princes, and must visit And dresse your selfe by Tacitus. What he wants In Naturals, his fortunes will make up In Honours, Pen; when hee's once made a Lord, Who'l be so sawey as to think he can Be impotent in wisdome? She that marries A foole, is an Hermaphrodite, the Man And wife too, sister. Besides tis now too late, He'l be here presently, and comes prepar'd For Hymen. I took up a footman for him, And left him under three tyremens hands, besides Two Barbers. Aur. Well, Sir, I must then accept him With all his imperfections, J have Procur'd a Sir Iohn yonder. Plotw Who ist? Aur. One That preaches the next parish once a week Enter a Footman A sleep for thirty pounds a yeare. Foot. Here is A Knight desires your Ladiship will give Him audience. Aur. Tis no Knight Embassadour? Foot. He rather lookes like a Knight oth' Sun. Pl. Tis He. Aur. Let him come in. Plot. If you be coy now, Pen, Ex. Foot. You spoile all. Aur. Well, Sir, I'le be affable. SCENA III. To them Timothy fantastically drest, and a Footman. Plotw. HEre he comes. Tim. Sirrah, wait me in the Hall, And let your feet stink there; your ayre's not fit, To be endured by Ladies. Plotw. What quarrell with Your Footman, Sir? Tim. Hang him, he casts a sent That drownes my perfumes, and is strong enough To cure the Mother or Palsie. Doe I act A Knight well? Plotw. This imperiousnesse becomes you Like a Knight newly dubd, Sir. Tim. What saies the Lady? Plotw. Speak lower, J've prepar'd her, show your selfe A Courtier now she's yours. Tim. If that be all I'le Court her as if some Courtier had begot me Ith' Gallery at a Masque. Plotw. Madam, this Gentleman Desires to kisse your hands. Tim. And lips too Lady. Aur. Sir, you much honour both. Tim. I, I know that, Else Ide not kisse you. Yesterday J was In company with Ladies and they all Long'd to be toucht by me. Aur. You cannot cure The Evill, Sir, nor have your lips the vertue To restore ruines, or make old Ladies young? Tim. Faith all the vertue that they have, is that My lips are knighted. J am borne, sweet Lady, To a poore fortune that will keep my selfe, And Foot-man, as you see, to beare my sword In Cuerpo after me I can at Court, If J would show my gilt ith' Presence, look After the rate of some five thousands Yearely in old rents, and were my Father once Well wrapt in seare-cloth, I could fine for Sheriffe. Plotw. Heart you spoile all. Tim. Why? Plot. She verily believd Y'had nere a father. Aur. Lives your father, then Sir? That Gentleman told me he was dead. Tim. Tis true, I had forgot my selfe, he was drownd, Lady, This morning, as he went to take possession Of a summer house and land in the Canaries. Plotw. Now y'have recoverd all. Tim. D' you think I have Not wit enough to lye? Plotw. Break your minde to her, She does expect it. Tim. But Lady this is not The businesse which J came for. Aur. I'me at leisure To heare your businesse, Sir. Plotw. Mark that. Tim. Indeed, Sweet Lady, I've a motion which was once Or twice this morning in my mouth, and then Slipt back againe for feare. Aur. Cowards nere won Ladies, or Forts, Sir. Tim. Say then I should feele Some motions, Lady, of affection; might A man repaire Pauls with your heart, or put it Into a Tinder-box? Aur. How meane you, Sir? Tim. Why is your heart a stone, or flint? Aur. Be plain, Sir, I understand you not. Tim. Not understand me? Y' are the first Lady that ere put a man To speak plaine English; some would understand Riddles, and signes; say J should love you, Lady? Aur. There should be no love lost, Sir. Tim. Say you so? Then by this aire my teeth eene water at you; I long to have some Off-spring by you; we Shall have an excellent breed of wits; J meane My youngest sonne shall be a Poet; and My Daughters, like their Mother, every one A wench oth' game. And for my eldest sonne, He shall be like me, and inherit. Therefore Lets not deferre our joyes, but goe to bed And multiply. Aur. Soft, Sir, the Priest must first Discharge his office. I doe not mean to marry Enter Dorcas out of her Puritan dresse Like Ladies in New England, where they couple With no more ceremony then birds choose their Mate Upon St Valentines day. Dor. Madam the Preacher Is sent for to a Churching, and doth aske If you be ready, he shall loose, he saies, His Chrysome else. Aur. O miracle! out of your litle Ruffe, Dorcas, and in the fashion? Dost thou hope to be saved? Dor. Pray Madam doe not Abuse me; J will tell you more anon. Plotw. Tell him shees comming. Aur. Sir, please you par∣take Of a slight banquet? Pl. Just as you are sate Exit Dorcas. I'le steale the Priest in. Tim. Doe. Pl. When you are joind, Be sure you doe not oversee, but straight Retire to bed, she'l follow. Tim. Tis not three A clock ith' afternoone. Plotw. Tis but drawing Your Curtaines and you doe create your night. All times to Lovers and New married folkes May be made dark. Tim. J will then. By this Roome She's a rare Lady. J doe almost wish I could change sexe, and that she might beget Children on me. Plotw. Nay will you enter? Tim. Ladie, Pray will you show the way. Plotw. Most Citie like, 'Slid take her by the arme, and lead her in. Tim. Your arme sweet Lady. Exeunt. SCENA IV. Bright. Newcut. Br. BUt are you sure th' are they? New. I'le not believe My treacherous eies againe, but trust some dog To guid me, if J did not see his Uncle Comming this way, and Baneswright with him. Br. Who, The fellow that brings Love to banes, and banes To bare thighes 'bout the towne? New. The very same, Sir; The Citie Cupid that shoots arrowes betwixt Partie and partie. All the difference is, He has his eyes, but they he brings together Sometimes doe not see one another till Till they meet ith' Church. Br. What say you now if Ware-house Should in displeasure marry? New. Tis so, this fellow In's company confirmes me. Tis the very businesse Why Plotwell has sent for us. Br. Here they come. Prithee lets stand and overheare 'em. New. Stand close then. SCENA. V. Enter Ware-house. Baneswright. Ware-h. MAdam Aurelia is her name? Ban. Her father Was, Sir, an Irish Baron, that undid Himselfe by house-keeping. War. As for her birth I could wish it were meaner. As many Knights And Justices of peace as have been of The Family are reckoned into th' portion; She'l still be naming of her Ancestors, Aske Jointure by the Heralds booke, and I That have no Coat, nor can show azure Lions, In Fields of Argent, shall be scornd; she'l think Her Honour wrongd to match a man that hath No Scutcheons but them of his Company, Which once a yeare doe serve to trim a Lighter To Westminster and back againe. Ban. You are Mistaken, Sir. This Lady as she is Descended of a great house, so she hath No Dowrie but her Armes. She can bring only Some Libbards heads, or strange beasts, which you knowe Being but Beasts, let them derive themselves From Monsters in the Globe, and lineally Proceed from Hercules labours, they will never Advance her to a husband equall to Her selfe in birth, that can give Beasts too. She Aimes only to match one that can maintaine Her some way to her state. She is possest What streames of gold you flow in, Sir, Ware-h. But can she Affect my age? Banes. I askt her that; and told her You were about some threescore, Sr, and ten; But were as lusty as one of twenty, (or An aged Eunuch) Ware-h. And what replyed shee? Bans. shee, Like a true Lucrece, answerd it was fit For them to Marry by the Church booke, who Came there to coole themselves; But to a Mind Chast and indued with vertue, age did turne Love into Reverence. Br. Or Sr Reverence. New. Prythe observe. Ware-h. Is shee so vertuous then? Banes. 'Tis all the fault shee has, she will out-pray A Preacher at St Antlins; and divides The day in exercise; I did commend A great Precisian to her for her woman. Who tells me that her Lady makes her quilt Her smocks before for kneeling. Ware-h. Excellent Creature! Banes. Then, Sir, she is so modest. Ware-h. Too. Banes. The least Obscene word shames her, a lascivious Figure Makes her doe pennance; and she maintaines the Law Which forbids fornication, doth extend To kissing too. Ware-h. I thinke the time an age Till the solemnity be past. Banes. I have Prepared her, Sr, and have so set you out! Besides, I told her how you had cast of Your Nephew, and to leave no doubt that you Would ere be reconcil'd, before she went To Church would settle your estate on her, And on the Heyres of her begotten. Ware-h. To make all sure, Wee'l call upon my Lawyer by the way, And take him with us. Banes. you must be married, Sr, At the French Church, J have bespoke the Priest; One that will joyne you i'th right Geneva forme, Without a licence. Ware-h. But may a man Wed in a strange tongue? Banes. I have brought together Some in Italian, Sr, the Language doth Not change the substance of the Match; you know No licence will be granted, all the Offices Are before-hand bribed by your Nephew. Ware-h. Well, Lets to the Lady straight, to crosse him, I Would marry an Arabian, and be at charge To keepe one to interpret, or be married In China Language, or the tongue thats spoke Exit Ware. and Banes. By the great Cham. Br. Now Newcut, you perceive My divination's true, this fellow did Portend a wedding. New. Plague oth' prognostication. Who'd thinke that Madam were the Partye? Br. Oh Sr, Shee'l call this wit to wed his baggs, and lye With some Platonick servant. New. What if we Before we goe to Plotwell, went to her And striv'd to disswade her? Br. Lets make hast, They'l be before us else. Exeunt. SCENA. VI. Enter Timothy unbuttoning himselfe. Aurelia. Plotwell. Dorcas. Foot-man. Tim. BY this hand Lady you shall not deny me: Since we are coupled, I shall thinke the Priest Has not done all, as long as I'me a Virgin. Aur. Will you not stay till night, Sir? Tim. Night? No faith, I've sworne to get my first child by day, you may Be quicke by night. Plot. Madam, your Knight speaks reason. Tim. I will both speake and doe it. Aur. Well Sir, since There is no remedy, your beds prepared; By that time you are layed I'le come, Meane time Ile pray that Gentleman to conduct you, There's My Foot-man to plucke of your stockins. Plotw. Come Sir. Tim. Sweet Lady stay not long. Plot. I'le promise for her. Dor. Faith I admire your temperance to let Ex. Tim. Pl. & Footman. Your Bride-groom goe to bed and you not follow. Were J in your case J should ha gone first, And warm'd his place. Aur. Well wench but that thou hast Reveal'd thy selfe unto me, I'de admire To heare a Saint talke thus. To one that knowes not The Mystery of thy strange conversion, Thou Wouldst seeme a Legend. Dor. Faith I have told you all, Both why I left my Schoole-Mistresse, who taught me To confute Curling-Irons, and why I put My selfe on this adventure. Aur. Well wench my brother Has had his plots on me, and Ile contribute My helpe to worke thy honest Ones on him. Doe but performe thy taske well and thou winn'st him. Dor Let me alone; never was man so fitted Enter Foot-man. With a chast Bride, as I will fit his Uncle. Exit. Foot. Madam your Knight doth call most fiercely for you. Aur. Prithee, goe tell him some businesse keepes me yet, And bid him stay himselfe with this kisse. SCENA. VII. As they kisse. Enter to them Bright. Newcut. Br. BY your leave Madam, what for practise sake Kissing your woman? Lord how a Ladies lips Hate Idlenesse, and will be busied, when The rest lyes fallow, And rather then want action Be kind within themselves, an't be t'enjoy, But the poore pleasure of contemplation! New. And how doe you find her Madam? Aur. Stay wench. Does it not grieve you now, and make you sigh, New. Lord, And very passionately accuse Nature, And say she was too hard to make your woman Able to kisse you only and doe no more? Br. Js it not pittie but besides the guift Of making Cawdles, and using of her Pencill, She had the trick oth'other sexe? Aur. Me thinks Your own good breeding might instruct you that My house is not a new Foundation, where You might, paying the rate, approach, be rude, Give freedome to your unwasht Mouthes. Dor. My Lady Keepes no poore Nuns that sinne for victuals, for you, With whom this dead vacation you may trade For old silke stockins and halfe shirts. They say You doe offend oth' score, and sinne in chalke, And the dumbe walls complaine you are behinde Jn pension; so that your distressed Vestalls, Are faine to foot their stockins, pay the Brewer, And Land-Lords-rent in woman-kind, and long More earnestly for the Terme then Norfolke Lawyers. Br. Why you have got a second, Ladie, your woman Doth speake good Countrey language. New. Offers at wit, And showes teeth for a jest. Br. We heare you are To marry an old Citizen. Aur. Then surely You were not deafe. New. And doe you mean his age, Which hath seene all the Kingdome buried thrice, To whom the heate of August is December; Ex. Dorcas. Who, were he but in Italy would save The charge of Marble vaults, and coole the ayre Better then ventiducts, shall freeze betweene Your melting armes? Doe but consider, he But marries you as he would doe his furres, To keepe him warme. Aur. But he is rich, Sir. Br. Then, In wedding him you wed more infirmities Then ever Gallen wrot of; He has paines That put the Doctors to new experiments. Halfe his diseases in the Citie bill Kill hundreds weekly. Alone Hospitall Were but enough for him. New. Besides, He has a cough that nightly drownes the Bell-man; Calls up his Familie; all his neighbours rise And goe by it, as by the Chimes and Clock. Not fowre loame walls, nor saw dust put between, Can dead it. Aur. Yet he still is rich. Br. Jf this Cannot affright you, but that you will needs Be blind to wholesome counsill, and will marry One who by th' course of Nature ought t' have been Rotten before the Queens time, and in Iustice Should now have been some threescore yeares a Ghost, Let pitty move you; Jn this Match you quite Dostroy the hopes and fortunes of a Gentleman, For whom had his penurious Uncle starv'd And pin'd himselfe his whole life, to encrease The riches he deservest' inherit it Had been his dutie. Aur You meane his Nephew Plotwell; A prodigall young man; one whom the good Old man his Uncle kept to th' Inns of Court, And would in time ha made him Barrester; And raisd him to his sattin Cap, and Biggon, In which he might ha sold his breath farre dearer, And let his tongue out at a greater price, Then some their Mannors. But he did neglect These thriving meanes; followd his loose companions, His Brights and Newcuts; two, they say, that live By the new Heresie Platonick Love. Can take up silks upon their strengths, and pay Their Mercer with an Infant. Br. Newcut! New. I, J doe observe her Character; well then You are resolvd to marry? Aur. Were the Man A statue, so it were a golden one, I'de have him. Br. Pray then take along to Church These few good wishes. May your husband prove So jealous to suspect that when you drink To any man you kisse the place where his Lips were before, and so pledge meetings. Let him Think you doe Cuckold him by looks; and let him Each night, before you goe to rest, administer A solemne oath, that all your thoughts were chast That day, and that you sleep with all your hayres. New. And which is worse, let him forget he lay With you himselfe, before some Magistrate Sweare twas some other, and have it believ'd Upon Record. Pl. Sister J've left your Bridegroome, Under this key lockt in, t' imbrace your pillow. Enter Plotw. Sure he has eat Eringoes, he's as hot— He was about to fetch you in his shirt. Br. Hows this? his sister? New J conceive not this. Pl. My Noble friends, you wonder now to heare Me call her sister. Br. Faith, Sir, we wonder more She should be married? New. I'ft be your sister, we Have labourd her she should not match her Uncle, And bring forth Riddles, Children that should be Nephews to their Father, and to their Uncle sonnes. Plotw. I laugh now at your ignorance: why these Are projects, Gentlemen; fine ginns, and projects. Did Roseclaps boy come to you? Br. Yes. Pl. I have A rare Scene for you. New. The boy told us you were Upon a stratagem. Plotw. I've sent for Roseclap, And Captaine Quartfield to be here. J have Put Salewit into orders, he's inducted Into the French Church, you must all have parts; Br. Prithee speak out of Clowds. Pl. By this good light Twere Justice now to let you both dye simple, For leaving us so scirvily. New. We were Sent for in hast by th' Benchers, to contribute To one of'em thats Reader. Plotw. Come with me, I'le tell you then. But first J'le show you a sight Much stranger then the Fish. Dor. Madam, heres Barneswright And an old Merchant doe desire accesse. Enter Dorcas. Aur. Bid 'em come in. Pl. Gentlemen, fall off. Ex. Dorcas. If we be seene the plot is spoild. Sister, Now look you doe your part well. Aur. J am perfect. Exit Plot. Br. Newc. SCENA VIII. To Her Baneswright. Ware-house. Dorcas. Banes. MAdam, this is the Gentleman J mention'd, I've brought him here, according to my function To give you both an enterview; if you Be ready, the Church and Priest are. Aur. Is this, Sir, The wealthy Merchant? Banes. Madam, this is He That if you'l weare the price of Baronies, Or live at Cleopatra's rate can keep you. Aur. Come you a Suitor, Sir, to me? Ware-h. Yes Lady, I did imploy my speaker there, who hath I hope inform'd you with my purpose. Aur. Surely, Your speaker then hath errd; I understood Him for my woman, if you can like her, Sir, It being for ought I heare, all one to you, I've woo'd her for you. But for my selfe, could you Endow me with the streame that ebbs and flowes In waves of gold, J hope you doe not think Ide so much staine my birth as to be bought To match into a Company▪ Sir, plainely, I'me matcht already. Ware-h. Baneswright, did not you Tell me she'd have me? Banesw. Faith, Sir, I have eares That might deceive me, but I did dreame waking If she were not the party. Madam, pray you One word in private. Aur. I'le prevent you; tis true, My Brother laid the Scene for me, but since W'have changd the plot, and tis contriv'd, my woman Shall undertake my part. Ban. I am instructed. I was mistaken, Sir, indeed the Lady Spoke to me for her Gentlewoman. How Doe you affect her, Sir? you see she is As handsome as her Ladie, and her birth Not being so high she will more size with you. Ware-h. I say, J like her best. Her Ladie has Too much great house in her. Ban. Tis right, this you May governe as you list. I'le motion't: Ladie, Pray pardon our mistake, indeed our Errand Was chiefly to your Gentlewoman. Aur. Sir, She's one whose fortune J so much intend, And yours, Sir, are so faire, that though there be Much disproportion in your age, yet J Will over-rule her, and she shall referre Her selfe to be disposd by me. Ware-h. You much Oblige me, Madam. Aur. Dorcas, this is the Merchant I have provided for you, he is old, But he has that will make him young, much Gold. Dor. Madam, but that I should offend against Your care as well as my preferment, J de Have more experience of the Man, J meane To make my husband. At first sight to marry, Must argue me of lightnesse. Aur. Princes, Dorcas, Doe wooe by pictures, and Ambassadours, And match in absent Ceremonies. Dor. But You look for some great portion, Sir. Wareh. Faire Mistresse, Your vertues are to me a wealthy Dowry. And if you love me J shall think you bring More then the Indies. Dor. But, Sir,'t may be You'l be against my course of life. J love Retirement, must have times for my Devotion, Am litle us'd to company, and hate The vanity of visits. Ware-h. This makes me Love you the more. Dor. Then J shall never trust you To goe to sea, and leave me; I shall dreame Of nought but stormes, and Pyrats. Every winde Will break my sleep. War. J'le stay at home. Dor. Sir, there Is one thing more; J heare you have a Nephew, You meane to make your Heyre. I hope you will Settle some Joynture on me. War. He's so lost In my intents that to revenge my selfe, I take this course. But to remove your doubts, I've brought my Lawyer with blank deeds, He shall put in your Name, and J, before We goe to Church will seale'em. Dorc. On these termes Where is your Priest, Sir? War. He expects me at The French Church, Mistresse. Aur. Come, when you have seald, Sir, I'le beare a part in the solemnity. Exeunt. ACTVS V. SCENA I. Plotwell. Aurelia. Bright. Newcut. Quartfield. Salewit. Roseclap. two Footmen. Cypher. Plotw. WEll Sister, by this hand J was afraid You had marr'd all; but I am well content You have out-reacht me. If she doe act it well now, By Iove I'le have her. Aur. She hath studied all Her Cues already. Plotw. Gentlemen, how doe You like the project? Br. Theirs was dull and cold Compared to ours. New. Some Poet will steale from us And bring't into a Comoedy. Quartf. The jest Will more inspire then sack. Plotw. I have got Cypher Over to our side too; He has been up and down Ent. Salewit To invite Guests to th' wedding. How now Salewit, like a Curat Are they gone home? Salew. Yes faith, for better, for worse; I've read a Fiction out of Rablais to 'em, In a religious tone, which he believes For good French Liturgie. When J had done There came a Christning. Plotw. And didst thou baptize Out of thy Rablais too? Salew. No faith, J left 'em In expectation of their Pastor. Br. Newcut, Who does he look like in that dresse? New. Hum? why Like a Geneva Weaver, in black, who left The Loome and entred into th' Ministery For conscience sake. Plotw. Well Gentlemen you all Doe know your parts, you Captaine, and Baneswright Goe get your properties. For you two, These Two Mules shall carry you in greater state, And more ease then the Fistula. You sister We'l leave unto your Knight, to come anon. Roseclap and J will thither straight. You Cypher Know what you have to doe? Sale. And as for me I'me an invited Guest, and am to blesse The Venison in French, or in a Grace Of broken English. Quartf. Before we doe divide Our Army, let us dip our Rosemaries In one rich bowle of sack to this brave girle, And to the Gentleman that was my Fish. All. Agreed, Agreed. Plotw. Captaine you shall dip first. Exeunt. SCENA II. Ware-house. Dorcas. MY dearest Dorcas, welcome. Here you see The house you must be mistresse of, which with This kisse I doe confirme unto you. Dor. Forbeare, Sir. Wareh. How wife, refuse to kisse me? Dor. Yes, unlesse A sweeter ayre came from you; y' have turnd my stomack. I wonder you can be so rude to aske me, Knowing your Lungs are perisht. Wareh. This is rare. That I should live to this great age, and never Till now know I was rotten! Dor. I shall never Endure your Conversation; I hope you have Contriv'd two Beds, two Chambers, and two Tables; It is an Article that I should live, Retir'd, that is, a part. Wareh. But pray you wife Are you in earnest. Dor. D'you think Jle jest with age? War. Will you not lie with me then? Dor. Did ever Man Of your haires ask such questions? J doe blush At your unreasonablenesse. War. Nay then— Dor. Ist fit J should be buried? Wareh. I reach you not. Dor. Why to lye with you were a direct Emblem Of going to my grave. Wareh. I understand you. Dor. I'le have your picture set in my wedding ring For a Deaths head. Wareh. I doe conceave you. Dor. I'de Rather lie with an ancient Tombe, or embrace An Ancestor then you. D'you think I'le come Between your winding sheets? For what? to heare you Depart all night, and fetch your last groane? and Ith' morning finde a Deluge on the floore, Your Entrailes floating, and halfe my husband spit Upon the Arras? Ware. I am married— Dor. Then, For your abilities, should twelve good women Sit on these reverend locks, and on your heat, And naturall appetite, they would just finde you As youthfull as a Coffin, and as hot As th' sultry winter that froze ore the Thames; They say the hard time did begin from you. Wareh. Good, I am made the curse of Watermen. Dor. Your humours come frost from you, and your nose Hath ycicles in Iune. War. Assist me patience. Why heare you mistresse, you that have a feaver, And Dog daies in your bloud, if you knew this Why did you marry me? Dor. Ha, ha, ha. War. She laughs. Dor. That your experienced ache, that hath felt springs And falls this forty yeare, should be so dull To think J have not them that shall supply Your cold defects. War. You have your servants then? And I am forkt? hum? Dor. Doe you think A woman young, high in her bloud—. War. And hot As Goats, or Marmosites— Dor. Apt to take flame at Tvery temptation— War. And to kindle at Ehe picture of a Man— Dor. Would wed dust, ashes, A Monument, unlesse she were— War. Crackt, tried, And broken up?— Dor. Right, Sir, or lackt a Cloke? War. Mischiefe and Hell, and was there none to make Your cloke but I? Dor. Not so well lin'd. War. O you Staid for a wealthie Cuckold, your tame beast Must have his guilded hornes. Dor. Yes, Sir, Besides Your age being impotent, you would I knew In conscience winke at my stolne helps, if I Took comfort from abroad. War. Yes, yes, yes, yes, You shall be comforted, I will maintaine A Stallion for you. Dor. I will have friends come to me So you'l conceale. War. Alas, I'le be your Pander; Deliver letters for you, and keep the doore. Dor. I'le have a woman shall doe that. War. O impudence! Unheard of impudence! Dor. Then, Sir, I'le look Your Coffers shall maintaine me at my rate. War. How's that? Dor. Why like a Ladie; for I doe mean To have you Knighted. War. I shall rise to honour. Dor. D'you think I'le have your Factor move before me, Like a Device stirr'd by a wier, or like Some grave Clock wound up to a regular pace? War. No, you shall have your Usher, Dame, to stalk Before you like a buskind Prologue, in A stately, high, majestick motion, bare. Dor. I doe expect it; yes, Sir, and my Coach, Six horses, and Postilion; foure are fit For them that have a charge of Children; you And I shall never have any. War. If we have, All Middlesex is Father. Dor. Then Jle have My Footman to run by me when I visit, Or take the ayre sometimes in Hide-park. War. You, Besides being chast, are good at Races too? You can be a Iockey for a need? Dor. Y'are pleasant, Sir. War. Why hark you, hark you, Mistresse, you told me You lov'd retirement, loved not visits, and bargaind I should not carry you abroad. Dor. You? no; Ist fit I should be seen at Court with you? Such an odde sight as you, would make the Ladies Have melancholy thoughts. War. You bound me too I should not goe to Sea, you lov'd me so You could not be without me. Dor. Not if you staid Above a yeare; for should I, in a long voyage, Prove fruitfull, I should want a father to The Infant. War. Most politiquely kinde, And like a Whore perfect ith' mystery. It is beyond my sufferance. Dor. Pray, Sir, vex, I'le in, and see your Jewels, and make choice Of some for every day, and some to weare Exit. At Masques. War. Tis very good. Two daies. Of this I shall grow mad, or, to redeeme My selfe, commit some outrage—O—O—O. SCENA III. To him Plotwell. and Roseclap. Plotw. SIr, I am sorry such a light offence Should make such deep impressions in you; But that which more afflicts me then the losse of my Great hopes, is, that y'are likely to be abus'd, Sir, Strangely abus'd, Sir, by one Baneswright. I heare You are to marry. War. Did you heare so? Plotw. Madam Aurelia's woman. War. What of her, Sir? Plotw. Why, Sir, I thought it duty to informe you, That you were better match a ruind Bawd; One ten times cured by sweating, and the Tub, Or paind now with her fiftieth Ach, whom not The power of Vsquebaugh, or heat of feavers Quickens enough to wish; one of such looks, That Judges of Assize, without more proofe, Suspect, arraigne, and burn for witchcraft. War. Why pray? Plotw. For she being past all motions, impotence Will be a kinde of chastity, and you Might have her to your selfe, but here is one Knowes this to be— War. An arrant whore? Ros. I see You have heard of her, Sir; Indeed she has Done pennance thrice. War. How say you, pennance? Rosc. Yes, Sir, And should have sufferd— War. Carting should she not? Ros. The Marshall had her, Sir. War. I sweat, I sweat. Ros. She's of knowne practice, Sir: the clothes she weares Are but her quarters sinnes, she has no linnen But what she first offends for. War. O blest Heaven Look downe upon me. Plotw. Nay, Sir, which is more, She has three children living, has had foure. War. How? Children? Children say you? Plot. Ask him Sir, One by a French Man. Ros. Another by a Dutch. Plotw. A third, Sir, by a Moore; borne of two colours. Just like a Sergeants Man. War. Why she has known then All Tongues and Nations. Ros. She has been layne with far∣ther Then ever Coryat travaild, and layne in By two parts of the Map, Afrique, and Europe. As if the State maintaind her to allay The heat of Forrainers. VVar. O—O—O—O. Plotw. What aile you, Sir? War. O Nephew I am not well, J am not well. Plot. I hope you are not married. War. It is too true. Ros. God help you then. War. Amen; Nephew forgive me. Ros. Alas good Gentleman. Plot. Would you trust Baneswright, Sir? War. Nephew in Hell There's not a torment for him; O that I could But see that cheating Rogue upon the rack now: I'de give a thousand pound for every stretch, That should enlarge the Rogue through all his joints, And but just show him hell, and then recall His broking soule, and give him strength to suffer His torture often; J would have the Rascall Think hanging a reliefe, and be as long A dying as a chopt Eele, that the Divell Might have his soule by peeces. who's here? a Saylor? Enter Cypher like a Saylor. SCENA. IV. To them Cypher. Cyph. ARe you, Sir, Ware-house, the rich Merchant? war. Sir, My name is Ware-house. Cy. Then you are not, Sir, So rich by two ships as you were. VVar. How meane you? Cyph. Your two ships, Sir, that were now comming home From Ormus are both cast away; the wrack And burden on the place was valewd at Some forty thousand pound. All the men perisht, By th' violence of the storme, only my selfe Preserv'd my life by swimming, till a ship Of Bristoll took me up, and brought me home To be the sad reporter. VVar. Was nothing sav'd? Cyph. Two small Caskes; one of blew Figs, the other Of pickeld Mushromes; which serv'd me for bladders, And kept me up from sinking. Twas a storme Which, Sir, J will describe to you. The Winds Rose of a sudden with that tempestuous force— VVar. Prithee no more; I have heard too much. Would I Had been ith' tempest. Cyph. Good your worship give A poore sea-faring man your charitie, To carry me back againe. I'me come aboue A hundred mile to tell you this. VVar. Goe in, And let my Factor if he be come in, Reward thee, stay and sup to. Cyph. Thank your Worship. VVar. Why should I not now hang my selfe? Or if Ex. Cyp. It be a fate that will more hide it selfe, And keep me from discredit, tie some weight About my neck, to sink me to the bottome Oth' Thames, not to be found, to keep my body, From rising up and telling tales. Two wracks? And both worth forty thousand pound there? why That landed here, were worth an hundred. J Will drown my selfe; I nothing have to doe Now in this world but drown my selfe. Plotw. Fie these Are desperate resolutions. Take heart, Sir, There may be waies yet to relieve you. VVar. How? Plotw. Why for your lost ships, say, Sir, I should bring Two oth' Assurance Office that should warrant Their safe returne, tis not knowne yet. Would you Give three parts to secure the fourth? War. I'de give Ten to secure one. Plotw. Well, Sir, and for your Wife, Say J should prove it were no lawfull match; And that she is another Mans? you'd take the peece of service well. War. Yes, and repent That when I had so good an Heyre begot Unto my hand, I was so rash to aime At one of my own dotage. Plot. Say no more, Sir, But keep the Saylor that he stir not. Wee'l Exit Plotwell & Roscl. About it straight. War. How much I was deceiv'd To think ill of my Nephew. In whose revenge I see the Heavens frowne on me; Seas and Winds Swell and rage for him against me. But J will Appease their furies, and be reconciled. SCENA. V. To him Sea-thrift. Ms Sea-thrift. Ms Holland▪ Ms Scruple. Ms Sea. MUch joy to you, Sir, you have made quick dis∣patch I like a man that can love, wooe, & wed, All in an houre, my husband was so long A getting me, so many friends consents Were to be askt, that when we came to Church Twas not a Marriage, but our times were out, And we were there made free of one another. Ms Holl. I lookt to find you abed, and a young Sheriffe Begot by this. My husband, when I came From Church, by this time had his Cawdle; I Had not a Garter left, nor he a point. Ms Scru. Surely all that my husband did the first Night we were married, was to call for one Of his wrought Caps more, to allay his Rheume. Ms Holl. We heare y'haue matcht a Courtier, Sir, a Gallant; One that can spring fire in your Bloud, and dart Fresh flames into you. Ms Sea. Sir, you are not merry. Me thinks you doe not look as you were married. Ms Holl. You rather look as you had lost your Love. Ms Scru. Or, else as if your Spouse Sir, had rebukt you Sea. How is it, Sir? you feel have brought along My Fidlers with me; my Wife and Ms Holland Are good winde Instruments. Tis enough for me To put on sadnesse. War. You, Sir, have no cause. Seath. Not I? aske Ms Scruple. I have lost My Daughter, Sir she's stolne. Then, Sir, I have A spend thrift to my sonne. Warch. These are felicities Compard to me. You have not matcht a Whore, Sir, Nor lost two ships at sea. Sea. Nor you, J hope. VVar. Truth is you are my friends. I am abus'd, Grossely fetcht over. I have matcht a Stewes; The notedst woman oth' Towne. Ms Seath. Indeed J heard She was a Chamber-maid. Ms Holl. And they by their place, Doe wait upon the Lady, but belong Unto the Lord. Sea. But is this true? War. Here was My Nephew just now, and one Roseclap, who tell me She has three Children living; one dapple grey, Halfe Moore, halfe English. Knowes as many men As she that sinnd by th' Calendar, and divided The nights oth' yeare with severall men. Sea. Blesse me good∣nesse! War. Then like a mad condemnd to all misfortunes, J have estated her in all I have. Sea. How? War. Under hand & seale, Sir, irrecoverably. Enter Salewit. SCENA. VI. To them Sale-wit. Ms Holl. LOok Ms Scruple here's your husband. Sale. Bee The leave ofe the faire Companee. Ms Scrup. My Husband? His cold keeps him at home. surely J take This to be some Dutch Elder. Sal. Were is The Breed an Breed-groome? Oh, Monsieur, J'me com't To give you zhoy, and blesse your Capòn; were Is your faire Breed? War. O Monsieur, you have joynd me To a chast Virgin. Would when J came to you Y' had used your Ceremonies about my Funerall. Sal. Foonerall? Is your Breed dead? War. Would she were. I'de double your Fee, Monsieur, to burie her. Sal. Ee can but leetle English. War. No, J see You are but new come over. Sal. Dover? Tere Eelanded. War. J, Sir, pray walk in; that doore Will land you in my dining roome. Sal. Ee tank you. Exit. War. This is the Priest that married us. Sea. This is A French-man ist not? War. Twas at the French Church. SCENA VII. Enter to them two Footmen bearing the Frame of a great Picture. Curtains drawne. 1 Foot. SEt'em down gently, so. 2 Foo. They make me sweat▪ Pictures quoth you? slight they have weight enough To be the Parties. 1 Foot. My Lady, Sir, has sent A Present to your wife. War. What Ladie pray? 1 Foot. Madam Aurelia, Sir. War. Oh— 2 Foot. Sir, they are A brace of Pictures with which my Ladie praies She will adorne her Chamber. Ware. Male Pictures pray, Or Female? 1 Foot. Why d'you aske? Ware-h. Because me thinks It should be Mars and Venus in a Net, Aretines postures, or a naked Nymph, Lying asleep, and some lascivious Satyr Taking her lineaments. These are pictures which Delight my wife. 2 Foot. These are Night-peeces, Sir, Ms Holl. Lord how I long to see'em? I have at home The finest ravisht Lucrece! Ms Scru. So have I The finest fall of Babylon! There is A fat Monk spewing Churches, save your presence. Ms Holl. Pray will you open 'em. 1 Foot. My Lady charged us None should have sight of 'em, Sir, but your wife. War. Because you make so dainty, I will see'em. 2 Foot. Tis out of our Commission. War. But not of mine. Draws the Curtaine within are discovered Bright. & Newcut. Hell and damnation! 1 Foot. How d'you like 'em, Sir? Ms Holl. Look they are picturd in their clothes. Ms Sea. They stir too. 2 Foot. Sir, they are drawn to life; a Masters Hand Went to 'em, I assure you. War. Out Varlets, Bawds, Panders, avoid my house. O Divell! are you They come out. My wives Night-peeces? Br. Sir, you are rude, uncivill, And would be beaten. New. We cannot come in private On businesse to your wife, but you must be Inquisitive Sir? Thank God tis in your own house, The place protects you. Br. If such an Insolence Scape unreveng'd, henceforth no Ladies shall Enter Dor. Have secret servants. New. Here she comes, we'l ask If she gave you Commission to be so bold. War. Why this is far beyond example rare. Now J conceive what is Platonick Love, Tis to have men like Pictures brought disguised, To Cuckold us with vertue. They whisper. SCENA VIII. To them Dorcas. Dor. HE would not offer't would he? Br. We have been In danger to be searcht; hereafter we Must first be questiond by an Officer, And bring it under hands we are no Men, Or have nought dangerous about us, before We shall obtaine accesse. New. We doe expect In time your Husband to preserve you chast, Should keep you with a gard of Eunuchs; or Confine you, like Italians, to a roome Where no male Beast is pictur'd, least the sight Of ought that can beget, should stir desires. Dor. I mar'le, Sir, who did licence you to prie, Or spie out any friends that come to me; It showes an unbred Curiosity; Which J'le correct hereafter, you will dare To break up Letters shortly, and examine My Taylor, least when he brings home my gowne There be a Man in't. J'le have whom I list, In what disguise I list, and when I list, And not have your fower eies so sawcy, to peep, As if you by prevention meant to kill A Basilisk. War. Mistresse, doe what you list, Send for your Couch out, lie with your Gallants there Before us all. Or if you have a minde To fellowes that can lift weights, I can call Two Footmen too: Sea. You are too patient, Sir. Send for the Marshall, and discharge your house. Ms Sea. Truly a handsome woman, what pittie tis She is not honest? Ms Holl. Two proper Gentlemen too. Lord that such Pictures might be sent to me. SCENA ULTIMA. Enter to them Plotwell and Roseclap. with Baneswright and Quartfield disguised. VVar. O Nephew welcome to my ransome; here My house is made a new Erection; Gallants Are brought in varied formes. Had I not lookt By providence into that frame, These two Had been conveighd for Night-peeces and Lantskips Into my chast Brides chamber. Till now she took And let her selfe out; now she will be able To hire, and buy Offenders. Plot. J'le ease you, Sir. We Two have made a full discovery of her. Ros. She's marri'd to another man, Sir. War. Good. Nephew thou art my blessed Angell: who Are these two? Plotw. Two that will secure your Ships; Sent by the Office. Seale you, Sir, Th' have brought Th' Assurance with'em. War. Nephew thou wert borne To be my deare preserver Plotw. It is dutie, Sir, To help you out with your misfortunes. Gentlemen, Produce your Instruments. Uncle put your seale, They subscribe seal & deliver interchangeably And write your name here, they will doe the like To the other parchment. So, now deliver. War. I doe deliver this as my Act and Deed. Ban. Quart. And we this as our Act and Deed. Pl. Pray Gen∣tlemen Be witnesse here. Vpon a doubtfull Rumour Of two Ships wrackt as they return'd from Ormus, My Uncle Covenants to give three parts To have the fourth secured. And these two here Sea. Ros Br. New. subscribe as wit∣nesses. As Delegates of the Office, undertake At that rate to assure them. Uncle now Call forth the Saylor, and send for the Priest Ent. Sale. ▪ Cyph. That married you. War. Look here they come. Plot. First then, Not to afflict you longer, Uncle, since We now are quit, know, all this was my project. War. How? Plot. Your two Ships are richly landed: if You'l not believe me, here's the Saylor, who Cyph. undisguises. Transformd to Cypher, can tell you. Cyp. Tis very true, Sir. I hired this travailing case of one oth' Sailors, That came in one of 'em. They lie at Black-wall. Troth I in pitty, Sir, to Mr Plotwell, Thought it my duty to deceive you. War. Very well, Sir. What are these Masquers too? Plot. Faith, Sir, these Ex. Cyph. they un∣disguise. Can change their formes too. They are two friends Worth threescore thousand pound, Sir, to my use. War. Baneswright, and Captain Quartfield! Qu. Nay old boy Th' hast a good penny-worth on't. The jest is worth Three parts of foure. Ban. Faith, Sir, we hope you'l pay Tunnage and Poundage into th' bargaine. War. O You are a precious Rogue, you ha preferr'd me To a chast Lucrece, Sirrah. Ban. Your Nephew, Sir, Hath married her with all her faults, They are New come from Church. War. How? Pl. Wonder not, Sir, you Were marri'd but in jest. Twas no Churchforme, But a fine Legend out of Rablais. Sal. Troth Salw. undis∣guises. This reverend weed cast off, I'me a lay Poet, And can not marry unless't be in a Play, In the fift Act, or so; and thats almost Worne out of fashion too. Ms Sea. These are the two That showd my sonne. Ms Holl. Lets have our mony back. Plotw. But Uncle for the Joynture, you have made her, J hope you'l not retract. That and three parts Of your two Sips, besides what you will leave Us at your death, will make a pretty stock For young beginners. War. Am I o'rereacht so finely? Sea. But are you married, Sir, in earnest? Plot. Troth, We have not been abed yet, but may goe, And no Law broken. Sea. Then I must tell you, Sir, Y' have wronged me, and I look for satisfaction. Plotw. Why? I beseech you, Sir. Sea. Sir, were not you Betrotht once to my daughter? Ms Seath. And did not I, And Ms Holland help to make you sure? Plot. I doe confesse it. Sea. Beare witnesse, Gentlemen, He doth confesse it. Plot. I'le sweare it too, Sir. Sea. Why Then have you matcht this woman? Plot. Why? because This is your Daughter, Sir, I'me hers by Conquest, For this daies service. Sea. Ist possible I should Be out in my own child so? Ms Sea. I told you husband. Ms Scru. Surely my spirit gave me it twas she. And yet to see, now you have not your Wire, Nor Citie Ruffe on, Mistresse Sue, how these Clothes doe beguile. Jntruth I took you for A Gentlewoman. Sea. Here be rare plots indeed. Why how now, Sir, these young heads have outgone us. Was my Sonne oth' plot too? Plotw. Faith, Sir, he Is marryed too; I did strike up a wedding Ent. Tim. Aur. Between him and my sister, Pen. Look, Sir, They come without their Maiden heads. Sea. Why this Is better still. Now, Sir, you might have askt Consent of Parents. Tim. Pray forgive me, Sir. I thought I had match a Ladie, but she proves— Sea. Much better, Sir; I'de chide you as a Fish But that your choice pleads for you. Tim. Mother pray Salute my wife, and tell me if one may not Lie with her lips; nay you too, Mr Holland; You taught her to make Shirts and Bonelace; she's Out of her time now. Mr Holl. I release her, Sir. War. I took your sister for a Ladie, Nephew. Plot. I kept her like one, Sir, my Temple scores Went to maintaine the Title, out of hope To gaine some great match for her, which you see Is come to passe. War. Well, Mr Seathrift, things Are just fallen out as we contrivd'em; I Grieve not I am deceived. Believe me, Gentlemen, You all did your parts well; twas carried cleanly; And though I could take some things ill of you Faire Mistresse, yet twas plot, and I forget it; Lets in and make 'em Portions. Sea. Lead the way, Sir. Ban. Pray stay a litle. War. More Revelations yet? Ban. I all this while have stood behinde the Curtaine; You have a brother, Sir, and you a father. Plot. If he doe live, I have. Ban. He in his time Was held the wealthiest Merchant on th' Exchange. War. Tis true, but that his shipwracks broke him. Ban. And The debt for which he broke I heare you have Baneswr. undisguises Compounded. Sea. I am paid it. Ban. Then I thank you. War. My brother Plotwell! Ban. Sonne I wish you joy. Plot. O my blest starres! my Father. Ban. And to you fayre Mistresse Let it not breed repentance that I have, For my security to scape your Father, A while descended from my selfe to this Unworthy shape. Now I can cast it off, And be my true selfe. I have a ship which fame Gave out for lost but just now landed too Worth twenty thousand pounds towards your Match. Sea. Better and better still. War. VVell what was want∣ing Unto our joyes and made these Nuptials Imperfect. Brother you by your discovery Enter Cypher. Have fully added. Cyph. Sir, The two Sheriffs are Within and have both brought their Wives. War. The Feast Intended for my wedding shall be yours. To which I adde may you so love, to say When old, your time was but one Marriage Day. FINIS. THE EPILOGVE AT WHITE-HALL. THE Author was deceiv'd, for should the Parts, And Play which you have seen, plead Rules & Arts, Such as strict Criticks write by, who refuse T'allow the Buskin to the Comick Muse, Whose Region is the People, every straine Of Royalty being Tragick, though none slaine: He'd now, Great Sir, hold all his Rules untrue, And thinks his best Rule is the Queen and You. He should have searcht the Stories of each Age, And brought five Acts of Princes on the Stage. He should have taken measure, and rais'd sport, From persons bright, and glorious as your Court▪ And should have made his Argument to be Fully as high, and great as They that see. Here, he confesseth, you did nothing meet But what was first a Comoedy ith' street: Cheapside brought into verse, no passage strange To any here that hath been at th' Exchange. Yet he hopes none doth valew it so low As to compare it with my Lord Maiors show. Tis so unlike, that some, he feares, did sit, Who missing Pageants did or'esee the wit. Since then his Scenes no pomp or Highnesse boast, And low things graced show Princes Princes most, Your Royall smiles will raise't, and make him say, He onely wrote, your liking made the Play. THE EPILOGVE AT BLACK-FRIERS. ONce more the Author, ere you rise, doth say Though he have publique warrant for his play, Yet he to th' Kings command needs the Kings Writ To keep him safe, not to b'arraign'd for Wit. Not that he feares his name can suffer wrack From them who six-pence pay, and six-pence crack. To such he wrote not; though some parts have been So like here, that They to Themselves came in. To Them who call't reproofe to make a face, Who think they judge when they frown ith'wrong place; Who if they speak not ill oth' Poet, doubt They loose by th' Play, nor have their two shillings out, He saies, he hopes, they'l not expect he'd wooe, The Play being done, they'd end their sowre looks too. But before you who did true Hearers sit, Who singly make a box, and fill the Pit, Who to his Comoedy read, and unseen, Had thronged Theaters, and Black-Friers been, He for his Doome stands; your Hands are his Bayes; Since They can onely clap, who know to praise.