Gentlemen I ha ſworne Ile change the roome: dice?

You ſee I'me patient gentlemen▪

I, the feinds in't, you're patient, you put vp all. Deuils.

Come set me gentlemen!

An Essexgenrleman ſir.

An vnfortunate one ſir.

Indeed ſir.

Hees ſecond to my boſome.

Ile giue you that comfort then ſir, you muſt not want money as long as you are in towne ſir.

No ſir?

I am bound in my loue to him to ſee you furniſht, and in that comfort I recouer my ſalute agen ſir.

Then I deſire to be more deere vnto you.

I rather ſtudy to be deare vnto you—boy, fill ſome wine.—I knew not what faire impreſſier I receiud, at firſt, but I began to affect your ſocietie very ſpeedily.

I count my ſelfe the happier.

To maſter Alſup ſir, to whoſe remembrance, I could loue to drinke till I were paſt remembrance.

Your ſuite ſhall end in one Tearme ſir: my name is Blaſtfield.

Kind maiſter Blaſtfield, your deerer acquaintance.

Nay come, will ye draw in Gentlemen? ſet me:

Faith I'me ſcatterd.

Sir, you ſhall not giue out ſo meanely of your ſelfe in my companie for a Million: make Such priuie to your diſgrace? you'r a Gentleman of faire fortunes; keep me your reputation; ſet 'em all, there's crownes fo you.

Sir you binde me infinitely in theſe courteſies.

You muſt alwayes haue a care of your Reputation here in Town maiſter Eaſie, altho you ride downe with nothing, it skils not.

I'me glad you tell me that yet, then I',e indifferent. Well, come: who throwes? I ſet all theſe.

Why, well ſaid.

This ſame maiſter Lethe here begins to vndo vs agen.

Ah ſir, I came not hither but to win.

And then you'le leaue vs, thats your faſhion.

Hee's baſe that viſits not his friends:

It is a thing in vſe and euer was, I paſſe this time.

I wonder you ſhould paſſe. And that you're ſufferd.

The Diuell and his Angels.

Are theſe they? Welcome deere Angels, where y'are curſt nere ſtay.

Heere's lucke.

Lets ſearch him Gentlemen, I think he wears a ſmock:

I knew the time, he wore not halfe a ſhirt, iuſt like a Pee.

No, how did he for the Reſt?

Twas a prettie ſhift yfaith.

But maiſter Lethe ha's forgot that too.

A miſchiefe on't to looſe all: I could—

Nay but good Ma Eaſie, do not do your ſelf that tirannie I beſeech you, I muſt not ha you alter your body now for the Purge of a little money: you vndoe me and you doe.

Twas al I brought vp with me, I proteſt maſter Blaſtſield, all my rent till next quarter.

Pox of money, talke not on't I beſeech you, what ſaid I to you? Maſſe I am out of caſh my ſelfe too,—Boy.

Anon ſir.

Run preſently to maſter Gum the Mercer, and wil him to tell out two or three hundred pound for mee, or more according as he is furniſht: Ile viſit him ith morning ſay.

It ſhall be ſaid ſir.

Doe you heare boy?

Yes ſir.

If maſter Gum bee not ſufficiently readie, call vppon maſter Profit the Goldſmith.

It ſhall be done ſir.

Boy.

I know I was not ſent yet now is the time.

Let them both reſt till another occaſion: you ſhall not need to run ſo farre at this time, take one nier hand go to Ma. Quomodo the Draper, and will him to furniſh mee inſtantly.

Now I goe ſir.

It ſeemes y'are wel knowne maſter Blaſtfield, and your credite verie ſpacious here ith Citie.

Maſter Eaſie, let a man beare himſelfe portly, the whorſons will creepe to him a'th their bellies, and their wiues a'th their backs: ther's a kinde of bolde grace expected throughout all the parts of a Gentleman: then for your obſeruances, a man muſt not ſo much as ſpit but within line and faſhion. I tell you what I ha done: ſomtimes I carrie my water all London ouer, onely to deliuer it proudly at the Standard, and do I paſſe altogether vnnoted thinke you? No, a man can no ſooner peep out his head, but ther's a bow bent at him out of ſome watch tower, or other.

So readily ſir.

Puſh, you know a bowe's quickely readie, tho a Gun belong a charging, and will ſhoote fiue times to his once, Come, you ſhall beare your ſelfe Iouially: take heede of ſetting your lookes to your loſſes, but rather ſmile vppon your ill lucke, and inuite 'em to morrow to another breakefaſt of Bones.

Nay ile forſweare dicing.

What? peace? I am aſhamed to heare you: will you ceaſſe in the firſt loſſe, ſhewe mee one Gentleman that ere did it? Fie vppon't I muſt vſe you to companie I perceyue, youde be ſpoilde elſe: forſweare Dice? I would your friends heard you yfaith.

Nay I was but in ieſt ſir.

I hope ſo, what woulde Gentlemen ſay of you? there goes a Gull that keepes his money, I would not haue ſuch a report goe on you, for the Worlde as long as you are in my companie. Why man fortune alters in a Minute, I ha knowne thoſe haue recouered ſo much in an houre, their purſes were neuer ſicke after.

Oh worſe then conſumption of the Liuer! conſumption of the patrimonie.

How now? marke their humours maſter Eaſie.

Forgiue me, my poſte • itie, yet vngotten.

Thats a penitent Maudlen Dicer.

Few knowe the ſweets that the plaine life allowes. Vilde ſonne that ſurfets of his fathers browes.

Laugh at him maſter Eaſie.

Ha, ha ha.

Ile bee damn'd and theſe bee not the bones of ſome queane that couzened me in her life, and now conſumes mee after her death.

Thats the true-wicked-blaſphemous, and ſoul-ſhuddering Dicer, that will curſe you all ſeruice time, & attribute his ill lucke alwayes to one Drab or other.

Dick, Hell-gill: the hapie Newes.

Yong, beautifull and plump.—a delicate peece of ſin.

Of what parentage?

Oh a Gentlewoman of a great houſe.

Fie, fie.

Shee newly came out of a Barne; yet too good for a Tooth-drawers ſonne.

Is ſhe wife or maide?

That which is dantieſt, Maide

Ide rather ſhee'd beene a wife.

A wife ſir, why?

Oh Adulterie is a great deale ſweeter in my minde.

Diſeaſes gnaw thy bones. I thinke ſhe has deſerud to be a wife ſir.

That will moue well.

Her firſtlinge ſhall be mine. Swine looke but for the huskes, the meate be thine.

How now Boy?

Maiſter Quomodo takes your worſhips greeting exceeding kindely, and in his commendations returnes this anſwere, that your worſhip ſhall not be ſo apt to receiue it, as hee willing to lend it.

Why, we thanke him yfaith.

Troth, and you ha reaſon to thanke him ſir, t'was a verie friendly anſwere.

Puſh, a Gentleman that keeps his daies euen here ith City (as I my ſelfe watch to doe) ſhall haue many of thoſe anſweres in a tweluemonth, maiſter Eaſie.

I promiſe you ſir I admire your carriage, and begin to hold a mor reu'rend reſpect of you.

Not ſo I beſeech you, I giue my friends leaue to bee inward with me,—will you walke Gentlemen?

Wee're for you. Preſent her with this Iewell my firſt token.

There are certaine Country-men without enquiring for maiſter Rerage, and maiſter Salewood.

Thou reuiu'ſt vs Raſcall.

When's our next meeting Gentlemen?

To morrow night, This Gentleman, by me inuites you all, Do you not Maiſter Eaſie?

Freely ſir.

We doe imbrace your loue—a pure freſh Gull

Thus make you men at parting duetifull, And reſt beholding to you, tis the ſlight To be remembred, when you'r out of ſight.

A prettie vertue.

Where ſhall I ſeeke her now?—oh if ſhe knew The Dangers that attend on womens liues, She would rather lodge vnder a poore thatcht Roofe Then vnder carued ſeelings: ſhe was my ioy, And all content that I receiu'd from life, My deere and onely Daughter: What ſaies the Note ſhe left, let mee agen With ſtayeder greefe peruſe it—Father? wonder not at my ſo ſuddaine departure, without your leaue or knowledge, thus vnder pardon I excuſe it, had you had knowledge of it, I know you would haue ſought to reſtraine it, and hinder me from what I haue long deſirde, being now happilye preferr'd to a Gentlemans ſeruice in London; about Holborne, if you pleaſe to ſend, you may heare well of me—

Were theſe fit wordes thinke you to be ſent to anye Cittizens wiſe, to enioy the Daughter, and loue the mother too for a neede? I would foulye ſcorne that man, that ſhould loue me onely for a neede I tell you: and heere the Knaue writes agen, that by the mariage of my Daughter, a has the better meanes and opportunitie to my ſelfe, hee lies in his Throate like a villaine, he has no opportunitie of mee, for all that, tis for his betters to haue opportunitie of me, and that he ſhall well knowe—a baſe proud knaue—a has forgot how he came vp, & brought two of his countrie men to giue their words to my huſband for a ſute of greene Karſey, a has forgot all this, and how does hee appeare to me, when his white Sattin ſuttes on, but like a Magot crept out of a Nutſhell, a faire bodie and a foule necke, thoſe partes that are couered of him, lookes indifferent well, becauſe we cannot ſee e'm elſe for all his clenſing, pruning and paring, hee's not worthy a Brokers Daughter, and ſo tell him.

I will indeede forſooth.

And as for my Childe, I hope ſheele bee ruld in Time, though ſhe be foliſh yet & not be carryed away with a caſt of Manchets, a Bottle of wine, or a Cuſtard, and ſo I pray certifie him.

He doe your errant effectually.

Art thou his Ant—or his—

Alaſſe—I am a poore drudge of his.

Marrie out vppon him, ſir reuerence of your miſtrisſhip

Heer's ſomewhat for thy paines, fare thee well.

Tis more then he gaue me ſince I came to him.

How now, what prating haue we heare? whiſpers, dumſhowes? why Tomazin, goo too—my ſhop is not altogether ſo darke as ſome of my neighbours, where a man may be made Cuckold at one ende, while hee's meaſuring with his yard at tother.

Onely commendations ſent from Maiſter Lethe your worſhipfull Sonne in law that ſhould be.

Oh, & that you like not▪ he that can make vs rich in cuſtom, ſtrong in friends, happy in ſuites, bring vs into all the romes a ſundaies, from the leads to the ſeller, pop vs in with Veniſon til wee cracke agen, & ſend home the reſt in an honorable Napkin—this man you like not forſooth?

But I like him father.

My bleſſing goe with thy liking

A number of our Cittizens hold our credit by't to come home drunk, and ſay wee ha beene at Court: then how much more credit i'ſt to be drunke there indeede?

Tut, thy Mothers a foole—pray whats Maiſter Rerage whom you pleade for ſo?

Why, firſt he is a Gentleman.

I, hee's often firſt a Gentleman that's laſt a begger.

My father tels you true, what ſhould I do with a gentleman, I knowe not which way to lye with him.

Tis truetoo—thou knowſt beſide, we vndoe Gentlemen dayly

That makes ſo few of e'm marrie with our Daughters, vnles it be one green foote or other▪ next, M. Rerage has land & liuing, tother but his walke i'th ſtreet, & his ſnatching dyet, hee's able to entertaine you in a faire houſe of his owne, tother in ſome nooke or corner, or place vs behind the cloath like a company of Puppe • s: at his houſe you ſhall bee ſeru'd curiouſly, ſit downe & eate your meate with leaſure, there we muſt be glad to take it ſtanding, & without either ſalt, cloath, or trencher, and ſay we are befriended too.

So ſay I Father, me thinkes it does me moſt good whē I take it ſtanding, I know not how all womens mindes are:

Faith I thinke they are al of thy minde for that thing, how now Falſlight?

I haue deſcri'd my fellow Short-yard, alias Blaſtfield, at hand with the Gentleman.

Oh my ſweete Short-yard!—Daughter, get you vp to your Virginalls: by your leaue Miſtris Quomodo.

Why I hope I may ſitith ſhop, may I not?

That you may, and welcome ſweete hony-thye, but not at this ſeaſon, there's a Buck to be ſtrucke.

Well, ſince i'me ſo expreſly forbidden, ile watch aboue ith gallerie, but ile ſee your knauerie.

Be you preparde as I tell you.

You neare feard me:

Oh that ſweete, neate, comely, proper, delicate parcell of land, like a fine Gentlewoman ith waſte: not ſo great as prettie, prettie: the Trees in Summer whiſtling, the ſiluer waters by the Bankes harmoniouſlye gliding, I ſhould haue beene a Scholler, an excellent place for a ſtudent: fit for my Sonne that lately commenc'd at Cambridge, whom now I haue plac'd at Innes of Court: Thus wee that ſildome get Landes honeſtly, muſt leaue our heires to inherit our knauerie: but whiſt, one turne about my ſhoppe and meete with e'm.

Is this it ſir?

I, let me ſee, this is it: ſigne of three Knaues, tis it •

Doe you heare ſir, what lacke you Gentlemen? ſee good Kerſies or broad cloathes heere, I pray come neere —Maiſter Blaſtfield?

I thought you would know me anon.

You'r exceeding welcome to Towne ſir, your worſhip muſt pardon me, tis alwaies miſtie weather in our ſhops heere: we are a Nation the Sunne • ere ſhines vpon,—Came this Gentleman with you?

O ſalute him fairely, hee's a kinde Gentleman, a verie in ward of mine.

Then I crye you mercy ſir, y'are eſpecially welcome.

I returne you thankes ſir.

But how ſhall I doe for you now Maiſter Blaſtfield?

Why whats the matter?

It is my greateſt affliction at this inſtant, I am not able to furniſh you.

How maiſter Quomodo, pray ſay not ſo, ſl'ud you vndoe me then.

Vpon my Religion Maiſter Blaſtfield, bonds lye forfeete in my hands, I expect the receite of a thouſand euerie houre, and cannot yet ſet eye of a penny.

That's ſtrange me thinkes.

Tis mine owne pittie that plots againſt me Maiſter Blaſtfield, they knowe I haue no conſcience to take the for feture, and that makes em ſo bould with my mercie.

I am ſorry for this.

Neuer the leſſe, if I might intreate your delay but the age of three daies to expreſſe my ſorrow now, I would double the ſumme, and ſupply you with foure or fiue hundred.

Let me ſee,—three daies.

I good ſir, and it may be poſſible.

Doe you heare Maiſter Blaſtfield,

Ha?

You knowe i'ue alreadie enuited all the Gallants to ſup with me to night.

That's true yfaith.

T will be my euerlaſting ſhame, if I haue no monye to maintaine my bountie.

I nere thought vpon that—I look't ſtill when that ſhould come from him, wee haue ſtrickly examined our expences, it muſt not be three daies Maiſter Quomodo.

No the • 'me afraide twill be my griefe ſir.

Maiſter Blaſtfield, ile tell you what you may doe now.

Send to Maſter Goome, or Maſter Profit, the Mercer and Goldſmith.

Maſſe that was well remembred of thee—I perceyue the Trout will bee a little troubleſome ere hee bee catcht—Boy. 〈…〉 Boy▪ Here ſir.

Runne to Maſter Goome, or Maſter Profite, and carrie my preſent occaſion of money to em.

I runne ſir.

Me thinks Maiſter Blaſtfield, you might eaſily attaine to the ſatisfaction of 3. dayes, heer's a Gentleman your friend I dare ſay will ſee you ſufficiently poſſeſt till then.

Not I ſir, by no meanes: maſter Blaſtfield knowes I'me further in want then himſelfe, my hope reſts all vpon him, it ſtands vpon the loſſe of my credit to Night, if I walke without money.

Why maiſter Quomodo, what a fruitleſſe Motion haue you put forth, you might wel • aſſure your ſelfe this gentleman had it not if I wanted it: why our purſes are brothers we deſire but equall fortunes: in a word w'are man and wife, they can but lie together, and ſo doe we.

As nere as can be yfaith.

And to ſay truth, tis more for the continuing of this Gentlemans credit in Towne then any incitement from mine owne want only, that I cou • t to be ſo immediatly furniſh • — you ſhall heare him confeſſe as much himſelfe.

Tis moſt certaine maſter Quomodo.

Oh here comes the Boy now: How now Boy, what ſayes maiſter Goome, or maſter Profit?

Sir, thei'r both walke foorth this froſtie morning to Brainford, to ſee a Nurſe-childe.

A Baſtard be it, ſpite and ſhame.

Nay, neuer vex your ſelfe ſweet maſter Blaſtfield.

Bewitcht I thinke.

Doe you heare ſir? you can perſwade with him.

A little ſir.

Rather then he ſhould be altogither deſtitute, or be too much a vexation to himſelfe, he ſhall take vp a commoditie of cloath of me tell him.

Why la! by my troth t' was kindly ſpoken.

Two hundred pounds worth vpon my Religion ſay.

So diſaſtrouſly.

Nay, maiſter Blaſtfield, you doe not heare what maſter Quomodo ſaid ſince, like an honeſt true Citizen yfaith: rather then you ſhould grow diſeaſde vpon't, you ſhall take vp a commoditie of two hundred pounds • orth of cloath.

The mealie Moth conſume it, would hee hame turne Pedler now? what ſhould I doe with cloath?

Hee's a verie wilfull Gentleman at this Time yfaith: he knowes as well what to doe with it, as I my ſelfe Iwis: ther's no Merchant in Town but will be greedy vpon't, and pay downe mony vpo'th naile, the'l diſpatch it ouer to Middle-borrow preſently, and raiſe double commoditie by exchange, if not, you know tis Tearme-time, and Michaelmas Tearm too, the Drapers harueſt, for footcloaths, riding ſuts, walking ſuits, chamber gownes, and hall gownes.

Nay, Ile ſay that, it comes in as fit a time as can be.

Nay take me with you agen ere you go ſir, I offer him no traſh 〈◊〉 him, but preſent mony, ſay, where I know ſome Gentlemen in towne ha beene glad, and are glad at this time, to take vp commodities in Hawks hoods, and browne paper.

Oh horrible, are there ſuch fool • s in towne?

I offer him no traſh tell him, vpon my Religion you may ſay,—Now my ſweet Shortyand,—now the hungry fiſh begins to nibble: one end of the worme is in his mouth yfaith.

Nay be perſwaded in that maſter Blaſtfield tis readie money at, the 〈◊〉 beſide, the 〈◊〉 and all falls in as pa • as can be 〈◊〉 helpe it.

Full and whole within, all of this peece of my Religion Maiſter Blaſtfield, feel't, nay feel't and ſpare not, Gentlemen! your fingers and your iudgement.

Clothe's good.

By my tro • h exceeding good cloath, a good wale t'as,

Falſlight.

I'me neere out 'athe ſhop ſir.

Go, call in a Porter preſently to carrie away the cloath with the Starre marke, whither will you pleaſe to haue it carryed Maiſter Blaſtfield?

Faith to Maiſter Beggar-land, hee's the onely Marchant now: or his Brother Maiſter Stilliard-downe, there's little difference.

Y'aue hapned vpon the money men ſir, they and ſome of their Bretheren I can tell you, will not ſticke to offer thirtie thouſand pound to be curſt ſtill, great monyed men, their ſtockes lye in the Poores throates: but youle ſee me ſufficiently diſcharg'd Maiſter Blaſtfield ere you depart.

You haue alwaies found me righteous in that.

Falſlight.

Sir.

You may bring a Scriuener along with you.

Ile remember that ſir.

Haue you ſent for a Citizen Maiſter Blaſtfield.

No faith not yet—Boy!

What muſt you doe with a Citizen ſir?

A cuſtome they're bound to alate by the default ofeuill debters, no Citizen muſt lend money without two bee bound in the bond, the ſecond Man enters but for cuſtome ſake.

No, and muſt hee needes be a Citizen?

Byth maſſe ſtay, ile learne that Maiſter Quomodo!

Sir.

Muſt the ſecond partie that enters into bond onely for faſhions ſake needs be a Citizen? what ſay you to this Gentleman for one?

A laſſe ſir, you know hee's a meere ſtranger to me, I neither am ſure of his going or abiding, hee may Inne heere to Night, and ride away to morrow, (although I graunt the chiefe burden lyes vpon you) yet wee are bound to make choice of thoſe we know ſir.

Why hee's a Gentleman of a prettie liuing ſir.

It may be ſo: yet vnder both your pardons I'de rather haue a Citizen.

I hope you wil not diſparadge me ſo? tis wel known I haue three hundred pound a yeare in Eſſex,

Well ſaide, to him thy ſelfe, take him vp roundly.

And how doubtfullie ſo ere you account of me, I doe not thinke but I might make my bond paſſe for a hundred pound'ith Citie.

What alone ſir?

Alone ſir: who ſaies ſo? perhaps ide ſend downe for a Tennant or too.

I, that's another caſe ſir.

Another caſe let it be then.

Nay, grow not into anger ſir.

Not take me into a Bond, as good as you ſhall good man Gooſe-cap.

Wel Maiſter Blaſtfield, becauſe I wil not diſgrace the Gentleman, i'me content for once, but we muſt not make a practiſe on't.

No ſir, now you would you ſhall not.

Cuds me, i'me vndone, hee's gone agen.

The Netts broke.

Hold there deere Gentleman.

Deny me that ſmall curtizie? s'foot a very Iew will not deny it me.

Now muſt I catch him warily.

A ieſt indeede, not take me into a Bond quo they.

Maiſter Eaſie—Marke my words, if it ſtood not vppon the eternall loſſe of thy credit againſt Supper—

Maſſe that's true.

The pawning of thy horſe for his owne Vittailes.

And thy vtter diſſolution amongeſt Gentlemen for e •• er.

Pox on't.

Quomodo ſhould hang, rot, ſtinke.

Sweete boy yfaith.

Drop Dam.

Excellent Shortyard.

I forgot all this: what meant I to • wagger before I had money in my purſe? how do's maiſter Quomodo? is the Bond readie?

Oh ſir.

Come we muſt be friends, heer's my hand.

Giue it the Scriuener: here he comes.

Good day Maiſter Quomodo, good morrow Gentlemen.

We muſt require a little ayde from your pen, good maſter Duſtbox.

What be the Gentlemens names that are bound ſir?

Maſter Iohn Blaſtfield Eſquireith wilde of Kent, and what doe they call your bed f • llowes name?

Maiſter Richard Eaſie: you may eaſily hit on't.

Maſter Richard Eaſie of Eſſex Gentleman, both bound to Epheſtian Quomodo Citizen and Draper of London: the ſumme two hundred pound. What Time doe you take maſter Blaſtfield for the payment?

I neuer paſſe my Month you know.

I know it ſir. October ſixteenth to day, ſixteenth of Nouember ſay.

Is it your cuſtome to returne ſo ſoone ſir?

I neuer miſſe you.

I am come for the reſt of the ſame price maſter Quomodo.

Star-marke, this is it, are all the reſt gone?

Thei'r all at Maſter Stilyard downes by this time.

Puſh, their ordaind to ſweate for Gentlemen,— Porters backes and womens bellies beare vp the world.

Tis true yfaith, they beare men and money, and that's the world.

Ye'aue found it ſir.

I'me readie to your hands Gentlemen.

Come Maſter Eaſie.

I beſeech you ſir.

It ſhall be yours I ſay.

Nay pray maſter Blaſtfield.

I will not yfaith.

What doe you meane ſir?

I ſhould ſhew little bringing vp, to take the way of a ſtranger.

By my troth you doe your ſelfe wrong tho maiſter Blaſtfield.

Not a whit ſir.

But to auoid ſtrife, you ſhall haue your will of mee for once.

Let it be ſo I pray.

Now I begin to ſet one foote vppon the lande, mee thinkes I am felling of Trees alreadie, wee ſhall haue ſome Eſſex Loggs yet to keepe Chriſtmaſſe with, and that's a comfort.

How like you my Roman hand yfaith?

Exceeding well ſir, but that you reſt too much vpon your R. and make your eaſe too little.

Ile mend that preſently.

Nay tis done now, paſt mending: you both deliuer this to maiſter Quomodo as your deede?

We doe ſir.

I thanke you Gentlemen,

By your leaue a little Gentlemen.

How now? what's the matter? ſpeake?

As faſt as I can ſir—All the cloathes come backe a • gen.

How?

What's the newes?

The paſſage to Middle borrow is ſtopt, and therefore neither Maiſter Still yard-downe, nor Maiſter Beggerland, nor any other Merchāt wil deliuer preſent money vppon't.

Why what hard lucke haue you Gentlemen?

Why Maiſter Blaſtfield?

Piſh—

You'r ſo diſcontented too preſently, a man cannot tell how to ſpeake to you?

Why what would you ſay?

We muſt make ſome what on't now ſir.

I where? how? the beſt is it lyes all vppon my necke, Maiſter Quomodo, can you help me to any money fort? ſpeak

Troth Maiſter Blaſtfield, ſince my ſelfe is ſo vnfurniſht, I knowe not the meanes how, there's one 'ith ſtreete a new ſetter vp, if any lay out money vppon't twill be he.

His name:

Maſter Idem—but you know we cannot giue but greatly to your loſſe, becauſe we gaine and liue by't.

Sfoo't will he giue any thing.

I, ſtand vppon that.

Will he giue any thing?—the Brokers will giue nothing? to no purpoſe.

Falſlight.

Ouer your head ſir.

Deſire Maiſter Idem to come preſently and looke vppo'th cloath.

I will ſir.

What if hee ſhould offer but a hundred pound?

Say you ſo?

Maiſter Quomodo we wil haue foure or fiue hundred pound for you of his owne within three or foure daies.

Tis true, he ſaide ſo indeede.

Is That your wife maiſter Quomodo?

That's ſhee, little Tomazin?

Vnder your leaue ſir, ile ſhow my ſelfe a Gentleman.

Doe, and welcome Maiſter Eaſie.

I haue commiſſion for what I doe Lady from your Husband.

You may haue a ſtronger commiſſion for the next, an't pleaſe you, that's from my ſelfe.

You teach me the beſt law Lady.

Beſhrew my blood, a proper, ſpringfull, and a ſweet Gentleman.

My Sonne: Sim Quomodo? heere's more worke for you Maiſter Eaſie, you muſt ſalute him too, for hee's like to be heire of thy land I can tell thee.

Vim, vitam, ſprin que ſalutem.

He ſhowes you there he was a Cambridge man ſir, but now hee's a Templer, ha's he not good grace to make a Lawyer?

A very good grace to make a Lawyer.

For indeede he ha's no grace at all.

Some gaue me counſell to make him a Diuine.

Fye, fie.

But ſome of our liuerie thinke it an vnfit thing, that our owne Sonnes ſhould tell vs of our vices: others, to make him a Phiſitian, but then being my heyre, i'me afraide hee would make me away: now a Lawyer thei'r all willing too, becauſe tis good for our trade and encreaſeth, the number of Cloath-gownes, and indeede tis the fitteſt for a Citizens Sonne, for our word is, what doe yee lacke? and their word is what doe you giue.

Exceeding propper.

You talke of an alteration, heer's the thing it ſelfe, what baſe birthe does not rayment make glorious? and what glorious birthes do not • agges make infamous? why ſhould not a woman confeſſe what ſhe is now? fince the fineſt are but deluding ſhadowes, begot betweene Tyr •• omen and Taylors? for inſtance, beholde their Parents.

Say what you wil, this wire becomes you beſt, how ſay you Taylor?

I promiſe you tis a wire would draw mee from my worke ſeauen daies a weeke.

Why doe you worke a ſundaies Taylor?

Hardeſt of al a Sundaie, becauſe we are moſt forbidden

Excellēt exceeding yfaith, a narrow card wyer ſets out a cheeke ſo fat and ſo full, and if you be rulde by me, you ſhal weare your hayre ſtill like a Mock-face behinde, tis ſuch an Italian world, many men knowe not Before from Behinde.

How like you the ſitting of this gowne now Miſtris Comings?

It ſits at meruailous good Eaſe, and comely diſcretion.

Who would thinke now this fine Sophiſticated ſqual came out of the Boſome of a Barne, and the loynes of a Haytoſſer.

Out you ſawcie peſtiferous Pander, I ſcorne that yfaith.

Excellent, already the true phraſe and ſtile of a ſtrumpet, ſtay, a little more of the red, and then I take my leaue of your Cheeke for foure & twenty houres—Doe you not thinke it impoſſible that her owne Father ſhould know her now, if he ſaw her?

Why I thinke no leſſe, how can he knowe me, when I ſcarce knowe my ſelfe.

Tis right.

But ſo well you lay waite for a man for me.

I proteſt I haue beſtowed much labour about it, and in fit Time, good newes I hope.

Is that the fellowe?

1 Lady it is.

Art thou willing to ſerue me fellow?

So pleaſe you, he that ha's not the heart to ſerue ſuch a Miſtris as your beautifull ſelfe, deſerues to be honoured for a foole, or Knighted for a Coward.

Twere ſinne then to raiſe the number.

Well, weele trie both our likings for a month, and then eyther proceede, or let fall the ſuite.

Be it as you haue ſpoke, but tis my hope A longer Tearme.

No truely, our Tearme endes once a month, wee ſhould get more then the Lawyers, for they haue but foure Tearmes a yeare, and wee haue twelue, & that makes e'm run ſo faſt to vs in the Vacation.

A miſtris of of a choice beauty, amongſt ſuch imperfect creatures I ha not ſeene a perfecter: I ſhould haue reckoned the fortunes of my Daughter amongſt the happieſt, had ſhe lighted into ſuch a ſeruice, whereas now I reſt doubt full, whome or where ſhe ſerues.

There's for your bodily aduice Taylor, and theres for your head-counſell, and I diſcharge you both till to morrowe morning agen.

At which time our neateſt Attendance.

I pray haue an eſpeciall care howſoeuer you ſtand or lye, that nothing fall vppon your haire to batter your wire.

I warrant you for that—which Gowne becomes me beſt now, the purple Sattin or this?

If my opinion might rule ouer you—

Come gallants, ile bring you to a Beauty ſhal ſtricke your eyes into your hearts, what you ſee you ſhall deſire, yet neuer enioy.

And that's a Villanous torment.

And is ſhe but your vnderput Maiſter Lethe?

No more of my credit, and a Gentlewoman of a great houſe, Noble parentage, vnmatchable Education, my plain Pung. I may, grace her with the name of a Curtizan, a Backſlider, a Proſtitution, or ſuch a Toy, but when all comes • o al tis but a plaine Pung, looke you Gentlemen, that's ſhe, beholde her.

Oh my beloued ſtrayer! I conſume in thy abſence.

A Cockſcombe, he a Courtier.

He ſaies he ha's a place there.

So ha's the Foole a better place then he, and can come where he dare not ſhow his head.

Nay, he are you me Gentlemen.

I proteſt you were the laſt man we ſpoke on, we're a little buſie yet, pray ſtay there a while, weele come to you preſently.

This is good yfaith, indure this and be a ſlaue foreuer, ſince you neither ſauour of good breeding nor bringing vp, Ile ſlice your hamſtrings but ile make you ſhow mannerly—pox on you, leaue courting, I ha not the heart to hurt an Engliſhman yfaith, or elſe—

What elſe?

Prethee lets be merrie, nothing elſe—heere, fetch ſome wine.

Let my Seruant goe for't.

Your's, which is he?

This ſir, but I ſcarce like my Miſtris now: the loynes can nere be ſafe where the Flyes be ſo buſie— Witte by experience bought foyles wit at Schoole: Who proues a deeper knaue then a Spent foole, I am gone for your worſhips wine ſir.

Sir, you put vp too much indignitie, bring company to cut your owne throate, the fire is not yet ſo hot, that you neede two Screenes before it, tis but new kindled yet, if twere riſſe to a flame, I could not blame you thē to put others before you but alaſſe all the heate yet is comfortable a cherriſher, not a defacer.

Ide faine haue him quarrell, fight, and be aſſuredlye kild, that I might beg his place: for there's nere a one voide yet.

Youle make him mad anon.

Tis to that end.

Yet at laſt, Maiſter Quomodo is as firme as his promiſe.

Did I not tell you ſtill he would.

Let me ſee, I am ſeauen hundred pound in bond now to the Raſcall.

Nay y'are no leſſe Maiſter Blaſtfield, looke too't, by my troth, I muſt needes confeſſe ſir, you ha bene vncommonly kinde to me, ſince I ha beene in Towne, but maiſter Alſup ſhall know on't.

That's my Ambition ſir.

I beſeech you ſir. Stay, this is Lethes haunt, ſee, we haue catcht him.

Maiſter Blaſtfield and Maiſter Eaſie, y'are kinde Gentlemen both.

Is that the beauty you famde ſo?

The ſame.

Who be thoſe ſo induſtrious about her?

Rerage and Salewood: • le tell you the vnmannerlyeſt tricke of e'm, that euer you heard in your life.

Prethee whats that?

I • nuyfed e'm hyther to looke vpon her, brought e'm along with me, gaue e'm leaue to ſalute her in kindnes, what doe they but moſte ſawcilie fall in loue with her, verye impudently court her for themſelues, and like two craftye Atturneyes, finding a hole in my leaſe, goe about to defeate me of my right.

Ha they ſo little conſcience?

The moſte vnciuilſt part that you haue ſeene, I know theile be ſorry for't when they haue done, for ther's no man but giues a ſigh after his ſin of women, I knowe it by my ſelfe.

One good thing in him, heele tell e'm ont roundly.

Cannot a Gentleman purchaſe a little fire to thawe his appetite by, but muſt you that haue beene dayly ſindg'd in the flame, be as greedy to beguile him on't? how can it appeare in you but maliciouſly, and that you goe about to engroſſe hell to your ſelues? he auen forbid, that you ſhould not ſuffer a ſtranger to come in, the Deuill himſelfe is not ſo vnmannerly, I doe not thinke but ſome of them rather will be wiſe enough to beg▪ Offices there before you, and keepe you out, marry all the ſpite will bee they cannot ſell e'm agen.

Come, are you not to blame—not to giue place?— To vs I meane—

A worſe and a worſe diſgrace.

Nay Gentlemen, you wrong vs both then, ſtand from me, I proteſt ile draw my ſiluer Bodkin vpon you.

Clubs, clubs,—Gentlemen ſtand vppon your Guard.

A Gentlewoman muſt ſwagger a little now and then I perceiue, there would bee no ciuilitie in her Chamber elſe, though it be my hard fortune to haue my keeper there a coward, the thing that's kept is a Gentlewoman borne.

And to conclude a Coward, infallible of your ſide, why doe you thinke yfaith I tooke you to be a Coward? doe I thinke youle turne your backe to anye man liuing? youle be whipt firſt.

And then indeede ſhe turnes her backe to ſome man liuing.

But that man ſhowes himſelfe a Knaue, for he dares not ſhowe his owne face when hee does it, for ſome of the common Counſell in Henry the eights daies thought it modeſtie at that time, that one Vizzard ſhould looke vppon another.

Twas honeſtly conſidered of e'm yfaith.

How now? what peece of ſtuffe comes heere?

Vinited.

Then heere comes Reuiſh to confirme our Amitie— Wag▪ taile, ſalute • hem all they are friendes.

Then ſauing my quarrell to you all.

Toe's all

Now be ſhrowe your hearts, and you doe not.

To ſweete Maiſter Lethe.

Let it flow this way deere Maiſter Blaſtfield, Gentlemen to you all.

This Re • iſh wine is like the ſcowring-ſticke to a gun, it makes the Barrell cleere: it ha's an excelent vertue, it keepes all the Sinckes in man and womans bodie ſweete in Iune and Iuly, and to ſay truth, if Ditches were not caſt once a yeare, and Drabs once a Month, there would be no abiding i'th Cittie.

Gentlemen, ile make you priuie to a letter I ſent.

A letter comes well after priuie, it makes amends.

There's one Quomodo▪ a Drapers Daughter in towne whome for her happie portion I wealthily affect.

And not for loue? this makes for me his Riuall, beare witneſſe.

The Father does elect me for the man, The Daughter ſayes the ſame.

Are you not well?

Yes all but for the mother, ſhee's my ſickneſſe.

Birlady and the Mother is a peſtilent, wilfull, troubleſome ſickneſſe I can tell you, if ſhe light vpon you handſomlye.

I finde it ſo: ſhe for a ſtranger pleades: Whoſe name I ha not learn'd.

And ene now he cald me by it.

Now as my letter tolde her, ſince onely her conſent kept aloofe of, what might I thinke on't, but that ſhe meerely dooted vpon me herſelfe.

Very aſſuredly.

Did you let it goe ſo yfaith?

You may beleeue it ſir, now what ſayes her anſwere?

I, her anſwere.

She ſaies you'r a baſe proud knaue, and like your worſhip.

How?

Nay, heare out hir anſwere, or there's no goodneſſe in you.

You ha forgot ſhe ſaies in what pickle your worſhip came vp, and brought two of your friendes to giue their wordes for a ſute of greene Kerſye.

Drudge, peace, or—

Show your ſelfe a Gentleman, ſhe had the patience to reade your letter which was as bad as this can be, what will ſhe thinke on't, not heare her anſwere? ſpeake, good his drudge.

And as for hir Daughter, ſhee hopes ſheele be rulde by her in time, and not be carryed away with a caſt of Manchets, a bottle of Wine, and a Cuſtard, which once made her Daughter ſicke, becauſe you came by it with a bad conſcience.

Gentlemen, i'me all in a ſweate.

That's verie wholſome for your body, nay you muſt keepe in your armes.

Then ſhe demaunded of me whether I was your worſhips Ant or no?

Out, out, out, Gru. Alaſſe ſaide I, I am a poore drudge of his.

Horror, horror, i'me ſmother'd, let me goe, torment me not.

And you loue me, lets follow him Gentlemen.

Agreed.

I count a hundred pound wel ſpent to perſue a good ieſt Maiſter Eaſie.

By my troth I begin to beare that minde too.

They'r worth golde Maiſter Blaſtfield.

Doe you deceiue me ſo? are you toward marriage yfaith Maſter Lethe it ſhall goe hard but ile forbid the Banes, ile ſend a meſſēger into your bones, another into your purſſe but ile doo't.

Boy.

Anon ſir.

Where left you Maiſter Blaſtfield your maiſter, ſay you?

An houre ſince I left him in Paules ſir—but youle not finde him the ſame man agen next time you meete him.

Methinks I haue noe beeing without his companie tis ſo full of kindenes and delight, I holde him to be the onely Companyon in earth.

I, as Companions goe now adaies that helpe to ſpend a mans money.

So full of nimble wit, various diſcourſe, praegnant apprehenſion, and vncommon entertainment, hee might keepe Company with any Lord for his grace.

I, with any Lord that were paſt it.

And ſuch a good free hearted honeſt, affable kinde of Gentleman: Come Boy a heauineſſe will poſſeſſe me till I ſee him.

But youle finde your ſelfe heauyer then, by a ſeauen hundred pound weight,—Alaſſe poore Birds that cannot keepe the ſweete Countrie, where they ſlye at pleaſure, but muſt needes come to London to haue their wings clipt, and are faine to goe hopping home agen.

So, No man is ſo impudent to denye that— Spirits can change their ſhapes, and ſooneſt of all into Serjeants: becauſe they are Cooſen Germans to ſpirits, for there's but two kinde of arreſts till Doomeſ-day, the Deuill for the ſoule, the Serjeant for the body, but afterward the deuill arreſts bodye and ſoule Serjeant & all, if they be knaues ſtill, and deſerue it▪ now my yeoman • aſlight.

I Attend you good Serjant Shortyard.

No more maiſter Blaſtfield now—poore Eaſie hardly be ſet.

But how if he ſhould goe to priſon, weere in a madde ſtate then, being not Serjeants.

Neuer let •• come neere thy belee • e that heele take priſon, or ſtand out in lawe, knowing the debt to be due, but ſtill expect the preſence of Maiſter Blaſtfield, kinde M. Blaſtfield, worſhipfull M Blaſtfield—and at the laſt—

Maiſter Shortyard, maiſter Falſlight.

The Boy: a warning-piece,—ſee where he comes.

Is not in paules.

He is not farre off ſure ſir.

When was his hovre ſayſt thou?

Two ſir.

Why two ha's ſtrucke.

No ſir, they are now a ſtriking.

Maiſter Richard Eaſie of Eſſex we arreſt you.

Alaſſe a Surgeon, hee's hurt ith ſhoulder.

Deliuer your weapons quietly ſir.

Why what's the matter?

Y'are arreſted at the ſuite of M. Quomodo.

Maiſter Quomodo?

How ſtrange you make it, you'r a landed Gentleman ſir, I knew tis but a triſſe, a bond of ſeauen hundred pound.

La, I knowe you had miſtooke, you ſhould arreſt One Maiſter Blaſtfield, tis his bond, his debt.

Is not your name there?

True, for faſhions ſake.

Why and tis for faſhions ſake that we arreſt you.

Nay, & it be no more, I yeelde to that: I know Maiſter Blaſtfield wil ſee me take no iniurie as long as i'me in towne, for Maiſter Alſups ſake.

Whoſe that Sir?

An honeſt Gentleman in Eſſex.

Oh, In Eſſex! I thought you had beene in London, where now your buſines lyes, honeſtye from Eſſex will be a great while a comming ſir, you ſhould looke out an honeſt paire of Cittizens.

Alaſſe ſir, I knowe not where to finde e'm.

No, there's enow in Towne.

I know not one by my troth, I am a meere ſtranger for theſe partes, Maiſter Quomodo is all, and the honeſteſt that I knowe.

To him then lets ſet forward:—Yeoman Spiderman, caſtan eye about for Maiſter Blaſtfield.

Boy—Alaſſe the poore boy was frighted away at firſt.

Can you blame him ſir—we that dayly fray away Knight's, may fright away Boyes I hope.

Ha? haue they him ſayſt thou?

As ſure as—

Here they come with him ſir.

Grant mee patience in my ioyes, that being ſo great I run not mad with 'em.

Bleſſe maiſter Quomodo.

How now Serjeants? who ha you brought me here, maſter Eaſie?

Why la you now Serjeants, did I not tell you you mistooke?

Did you not heare me ſay. I had rather ha had maſter Blaſtfield, the more ſufficient man a great deale?

Verie true ſir,—but this Gentleman lighting into our hands firſt—

Why did you ſo ſir?

Wee thought good to make vſe of that oportunitie, and hold him faſt.

You did well in that I muſt needes ſay, for your owne ſecurities, but twas not my minde maſter Eaſie to haue you firſt, you muſt needes thinke ſo.

I dare ſweare that maſter Quomodo.

But ſince you are come to me, I haue no reaſon to refuſe you, I ſhould ſhow little manners in that ſir.

But I hope you ſpake not in that ſence ſir, to impoſe the bond vpon mee.

By my troth that's my meaning ſir, you ſhall finde mee an honeſt man, you ſee I meane what I ſay, is not the day paſt, the money vntendred, you'd ha me liue vprightly maiſter Eaſie?

Why ſir, you know maiſter Blaſtfield is the man.

Why ſir, I know maſter Blaſtfield is the man, but is he any more then one man? two entred into bond to mee, or I'me fowly coozn'd.

You know my entrance was but for faſhion ſake.

Why, ile a gree to you, you'l grant tis the faſhion likewiſe when the Bond's due to haue the money paid agen.

So we told him ſir, and that it lay in your worſhips curtezie to arreſt which you pleaſe.

Marie do's it ſir, theſe fellowes know the law,— beſide, you offred yourſelf into Bond to me you know, when I had no ſtomake to you, now beſhrew your heart for your labour, I might ha had a good ſubſtantiall Citizen, that would ha paid the ſumme roundly, altho I think you ſufficient enough for ſeauen hundred pound, beſide the forfeyture, I would be loath to diſgrace you ſo much before Serjeants.

If you would hathe pacience ſir, I doe not thinke but maſter Blaſefield is at Carriers to receiue the money.

He wil proue the honeſter man then, & you the better diſcharged, I wonder he ſhould breake with me, t'was neuer his practiſe, you muſt not bee angry with mee now, tho you were ſomewhat hot when you entred into Bond, you may eaſily go in angerly, but you cannot come out ſo.

No, the Diuels in't for that.

Do you heere ſir, a my troth we pittie you, ha you any ſtore of Crownes about you?

Faith a poore ſtore, yet they ſhall be at their ſeruice that will ſtriue to doe me good,—we were both drunke laſt night, and • eer thought vpon the bond.

I muſt tell you this, you haue fell in to the hands of a moſt mercileſſe deuourer, the verie gul athe citie, ſhould you offer him mony, Goods or lands now, hee'd rather haue your bodie in priſon, hee's a ſuch a nature. Eaſ. Priſon w'are vndon then.

Defend me?

Has at leaſt ſixteene at this inſtant proceeded in both the Counters: ſome batchler, ſome maſters, ſome doctors of captiuitie of 20. years ſtanding and he deſires nothing more then impriſonment.

Would Ma. Blaſtfield would come away.

I, then things would not bee as they are—what will you ſay to vs if wee procure you two ſubſtantiall ſubſidie Cittizens to baile you ſpite on's heart, and ſet you at libertie to finde out maiſter Blaſtfield.

Serjeant! here, take all, ile be deare to you, doe but performe it.

Much.

Inough ſweet Serjeant, I hope I vnderſtand thee.

I loue to preuent the malice of ſuch a raſcall, perhaps you might find maiſter Blaſtfield to night.

Why, we lie together man, there's the ieſt on't.

Fie.—and youle ſeeke to ſecure your baile, becauſe they will be two Cittizens of good account, you muſt doe that for your credit ſake.

Ile be bound to ſaue them harmeleſſe.

A pox on him, you cut his throte then,—no words.

What's it you require me maiſter Quomodo?

You know that before this time I hope ſir, preſent money, or preſent impriſonment.

I told you ſo.

We nere had money of you.

You had commodities, an't pleaſe you

Well, may I not craue ſo much libertie vpō my word, to ſeeke out maiſter Blaſtfield?

Yes, and you would not laugh at me: wee are ſometimes Gulls to Gentlemen▪ I thanke 'em; but Gentlemen are neuer Gulls to vs, I commend 'em.

Vnder your leaue maſter Quomodo, the Gentleman craues the furtherance of an houre, and it ſorts well with our occaſion at this time, hauing a little vrgent buſines at Guildhall, at which minute weele returne, and ſee what agreement is made.

Nay take him along with you Serjeant.

I'me vndone then.

Hee's your priſoner; and being ſafe in your houſe at your owne diſpoſing, you cannot denie him ſuch a requeſt: beſide, he hath a little faith in Ma. Blaſtfields comming ſir.

Let me not be too long delaid I charge you.

Not an houre yfaith ſir.

O maiſter Eaſie, of all men liuing I neuer dream▪ you would ha done me this iniurie: make me would my credite, faile in my commodities, ring my ſtate into ſuſpition: for the breaking of your day to me, has broken my day to others.

You tell me of that ſtill, which is no fault of mine maſter Quomodo.

Oh whats a man but his honeſtie maſter Eaſie, and thats a fault amongſt moſt of vs all,—Marke but this note, Ile giue you good counſell now,—as often as you giue your name to a bond, you muſt think you chriſten a child, and take the charge on't too: for as the one, the bigger it growes the more coſt it requires: ſo the other the longer it lies, the more charges it puts you too, onely heer's the difference a childe muſt bee broke, and a bond muſt not, the more you breake children, the more you keep 'em vnder: but the more you breake bondes, the more theyle leape in your face, and therefore, to conclude, I would neuer vndertake to bee Goſſip to that bond which I would not ſee well brought vp.

Say you ſo ſir?—Ile thinke vpon your counſaile hereafter for't.

Ah foole, thou ſhouldeſt neere ha taſted ſuch witte but that I know tis too late.

The more I grieue:

A good medicine for a ſhort memorie:—but ſince, you haue entred ſo farre, whoſe children are deſperate depts I pray?

Faith they are like the of-ſprings of ſtolne luſt, put to the hoſpital, their fathers are not to be found, they are either too far abroad, or too cloſe within, and thus for your memories ſake.

But all that I beget heereafter • le ſo one diſinherit Maiſter Quomodo.

In the meane time heeres a ſhrewd knaue will diſinherit you.

Well, to put you out of all doubt Maiſter Quomodo, ile not truſt to your curtezie, I ha ſent for bayle.

How? y'aue co • z • ed me there y • aith.

Since the worſt comes to the worſt, I haue thoſe friends 'ith Cittie, I hope that will not ſuffer me to lye for ſeauen hundred pound.

And you tolde me you had no friendes heere at all, how ſhould a man truſt you now?

That was but to trie your Curteſie M. Quomodo.

How vncōſcionably he gulls himſelf—they muſt be wealthye ſubſidie-men ſir, at leaſt fortye pound 'ith Kings Bookes I can tell you, that doe ſuch a feate for you.

Heere they come what ſo ere they are.

Berlady Aldermans Deputies, I am verie ſorrye for you ſir, I cannot refuſe ſuch men.

Are you the Gentleman in diſtreſſe?

None more then my ſelfe ſir.

Hee ſpeakes truer then he thinkes, for if he knew, The hearts that owe thoſe faces—a darke ſhop's good for ſomewhat.

That was all ſir.

Blaſtfield ſir.

Oh 〈◊〉 • ou mercie tis Blaſtfield indeede.

But vnder both your worſhips fauours I know where to finde him preſently.

That's all your refuge.

Newes, good newes Maſter Eaſie.

What boy?

Maiſter Blaſtfield • y maiſter ha • receiued a tho 〈◊〉 pound, and will be at his lodging at ſupper.

Happy • newes, heare you that Maiſter Quomodo?

Tis enough for you to heare that, y'are the fortunate man ſir.

Not now I beſeech your good worſhips.

Gentleman, what's your to • her name?

Eaſie.

O Maiſter Eaſie—I would we could rather pleaſure you otherwiſe Maiſter Eaſie, you ſhould ſoone perceiue it, ile ſpeake a proud word we haue pittied more Gentlemen in diſtreſſe, then any two Cittizens within the freedome— but to be baile to ſea • en hundred pound action, is a matter of ſhroud weight.

Ile be bound to ſecure you.

Tut, what's your bond ſir?

Bodye, goods, and Lands, immediately before Maſter Quomodo.

Shall we venture once agen, that haue beene ſo often vndone by Gentlemen?

I haue no great ſtomacke too't, it will appeare in vs more pittie then wiſdome.

Why ſhould you ſay ſo ſir?

I like the Gentlemans face well, hee doe's not looke as if he would deceiue vs.

O not I ſir.

Come weele make a deſperate voyage once agen, weele trye his honeſtie, and take his ſingle bond, of body Goods and Lands.

I dearely thanke you ſir.

Maiſter Quomodo?

Your worſhips.

We haue tooke a Courſe to ſet your priſoner free.

Your worſhips are good baile you content me.

Come then, and be a witneſſe to a Re • ulliſance.

With all my heart ſir.

Maiſter Eaſie, you muſt haue an eſpeciall care now to find out that Blaſtfield.

I ſhall haue him at my lodging ſir.

The 〈◊〉 will 〈…〉 you ſelſe, Maiſter Quomodo will come vpon vt, and 〈◊〉 you.

I know that ſir.

Well ſince I ſee you haue ſuch a good minde to bee honeſt • e lea • e ſome greater 〈…〉 ſweate with you to finde him my ſelfe.

H • are then my miſ • rie ends 〈…〉 A ſtrangers kindeneſſe oft exceedes a friends.

Now the letters made vp and all, it wants but the print of a ſ • ale, and away it goes to Maiſter Quomodo: Andrew Le • he is well whipt in't, his name ſtands in a white ſheete heere, and do • s pennance for him.

You haue ſhame enough againſt him, if that be good.

Firſt as a contempt of that reuerend Ceremony, hee has in hand, to wit, marriage.

Why doe you ſay to wit marriage, when you knowe theres none will marrie that's wiſe.

Had it not more neede then, to haue wit to put too't if it be growne to a • olly?

Tis no thankes now,—but as I was ſaying: as a ſoule contempt to that ſacred ceremony, hee moſte audaciouſlye keepes a Drab in towne, and to be free from the interruption of blew Beadles, and other bawdy Officers, hee moſt politickly lodges her in a Conſtables houſe.

That's a prettie point yfaith.

And ſo the wa • ch that ſhould fe • ch her out▪ are her chiefeſt guard to keepeher in.

It muſt needes be for looke how the Conſtable playes his Conſcience, the watch-men will followe the ſuite.

Why well then.

All night from me hee's hurt, hee's made away.

Where ſhall we ſeeke him now? you leade me fayre • aunt's ſir.

Pray keepe a little patience ſir, I ſhall finde him at laſt you ſhall ſee.

A Cittizen of my e • ſe and ſubſtance to walke ſo long a foote.

You ſhould ha had my horſe but that he ha's eaten out his head ſir.

How would you had me hold him by the tayle ſir then?

Manners forbid, tis no part of my meaning ſir,—oh heere's Maiſter Rerage, and Maiſter Salewood, now we ſhall heare of him preſently:—Gntlemen both.

Maiſter Eaſie, how fare you ſir?

Verye well in health, did you ſee Maiſter Blaſtfield this morning?

I was about to moue it to you.

We were all three in a minde then.

I ha not ſet eye on him theſe two daies.

I wonder he keepes ſo long from vs yfaith.

I began to be ſicke.

Why, what's the matter?

Nothing in troth, but a great deſire I had to haue ſeene him.

I lay alone to night yfaith,—I doe not know how, O here comes maſter Lethe, he can diſpatch me: Maſter Lethe!

What's your name ſir?—O crie you mercie maſter Eaſie.

When parted you from maiſter Blaſtfield ſir?

Blaſtfield's an Aſſe, I haue ſought him theſe two dayes to beate him.

Your ſelfe all alone ſir?

I, and three more.—

I am glad, I am where I am then, I perceiue twas time of all handes.

Content yfaith, let's trace him.

What? haue you found him yet? neither? what's to be done now? ile venter my bodie no further for any Gentlemans pleaſure, I know not how ſoone I may be cald vppon, and now to ouer-heate my ſelfe.—

Ime vndone.

This is you that ſlept with him, you can make fooles of vs, but ile turne you ouer to Quomodo fort.

Good ſir.

Ile preuent mine owne danger.

I beſeech you ſir.

Tho I loue Gentlemen well, I doe not meane to bee vndone for 'em.

Pray ſir, let mee requeſt you ſir, ſweete ſir, I beſeech you ſir.

Made fooles of vs! not to be found!

What, what?

Do not vndoe me quite tho Ma Quomodo.

Y'are verie welcome, maſter Eaſie, I ha nothing to ſay to you, ile not touch you, you may goe when you pleaſe,— I haue good baile here I thanke their worſhips.

Gentlemen, S'lid they were borne to vndo vs I think, but for my part, Ile make an oath before maiſter Qomodo here, nere to doe Gentlemen good while I liue.

Ile not be long behind you.

Away; if you had any grace in you, you would bee aſhamed to looke vs ith face, ywis I wonder with what browe you can come amongſt vs, I ſhould ſeeke my fortunes fa • re enough if I were you, and neither returne to Eſſex, to bee a ſhame to my predeceſſors, nor remaine about London, to be a mocke to my ſucceſſors.

Subtle Shortyard!

Here are his lands forfeyted to vs maſter Quomodo, and to auoyd the inconſcionable trouble of law, all the aſſi • • ance he made to vs, we willingly reſigne to you.

What ſhall I doe with Rubbiſh, giue me money: Tis for your worſhips to haue land, that keepe great houſes, I ſhould be hoyſted.

But maſter Quomodo, if you would but conceyue it aright, the land would fall fitter to you then to vs.

Curtzing about my land.

You haue a towardly ſonne and heyre as we heare.

I muſt needs ſay, he is a Templer indeed.

We haue neither poſteritie in Towne nor hope for any abroad; we haue wiues, but the markes haue beene out of their mouths theſe twentie yeares, and as it appeares, they did little good when they were in: wee could not ſtande about it ſir, to g • t riches and children too▪ tis more then one man can doe. And I am of thoſe Citizens mindes that ſay, let our wi • es make ſhift for children and they will, they get none of vs; and I cannot thinke, but he that has both much wealth and many children, has had more helpes comming in then himſelfe.

I am not a Bowe wide of your minde ſir.— And for the thriſtie and couetous hopes I haue in my ſonne and heyre Sim Qmomodo, that hee will neuer truſt his land in Waxe and Parchment as many Gentlemen haue done before him.

I will honeſtly diſcharge you, and recevue it in due forme and order of law, to ſtrengthen it for euer to my ſonne and h • yre, that he may vndoubtedly enter vppon't without the let or moleſtation of any man, at his or our pleaſure whenſoeuer.

Tis ſo aſſurde vnto you.

Why then maiſter Baſie y'are a freeman ſir, you may deale in what you pleaſe, and goe whether you will. Why Tomazin, maiſter Eaſie is dome from Eſſex, bid him welcome in a cup of ſmall Beare.

Not onely vilde, but in it tyrannous.

If it pleaſe you ſir, you knowe the houſe, you may viſite vs often▪ and dine with vs once a quarter.

Excellent excellent, ſweet Spirits.

Landed maiſter Quomodo.

I long to warme my ſelfe by'th wood,—A fine iourney in the Whitſun-holy dayes • yfaith, to ride downe with a number of Citizens, and their wiues, ſome vpon pillions, ſome vpon S • de ſaddles, I, and little Tomazin ith middle our ſome and heire S • m Quomodo in a peach colour Taffata Iack • t, ſome horſ •• length, or a long • ard before vs, there will be a fine ſhew on's I can tell you, where we Citizens will laugh, and lie downe ge • all our wiues with child againſt a bank and get vp againe, • ſtay, ha • aſt thou that wit yfaith twil▪ be admirable, to ſee how the very thought of greene fieldes puts a man into ſweet inuenttions. I will preſently poſſeſſe Sim Quomodo of all the land, I haue a toy and ile doo't: and becau • e I ſee before mine eies that moſt of our heires proue notorious Rioters after our deaths, and that couſonage in the father wheeles about to follie in the ſonne, our poſteritie commonly foylde at the ſame weapon, at which we plaide rarely. And being the world • beaten worde, what's got ouer the Diuels backe, (that's by knauerie) muſt be ſpent vnder his bellie, (that's by lechery) being awake in theſe knowings, why ſhould not I oppoſe 'em now, and breake deſtinie of her cuſtome, preuenting that by pollicie, which without it muſt needes be Deſtinie? and I haue tooke the courſe, I will forthwith ſicken, call for my keyes, make my Will, and diſpoſe of all, giue my ſonne this bleſſing, that hee truſt no man, keepe his hand from a queane, and a Scriuener, liue in his fathers faith, and doe good to no bodie: then will I begin to raue like a fellow of a wide conſcience, and for all the worlde counterfeit to the life, that which I know I ſhall do when I die, take on for my golde, my landes, and my wrytings, grow worſe and worſe, call vpon the Diuell, and ſo make an ende▪ by this time I haue indented with a couple of ſearchers, who to vphold my deuice ſhall fray them out a'th Chamber with report of ſickneſſe, and ſo la, I ſtart vp, and recouer agen: for in this buſineſſe I will truſt, no not my ſpirits Falſlight & ſhortyard, but in diſguiſe note the condition of al, how pittiful my wife takes my death, which wil appear by Nouember in her eye, and the fall of the leaf inher bodie, but eſpecially by the coſt ſhe beſtows vpō my funeral, there ſhall I trie her loue and regard, my daughters marrying to my will & lyking, and my ſonnes affection after my diſpoſing: for to cōclude▪ I am as jealous of this land as of my wife, to know what would become of it after my deceaſe.

Tho I be poore, tis my glorie to liue honeſt.

I prethee doe not leaue me.

Why thou art an vnreaſonable fellow yfaith, doe not al Trades liue by their ware, and yet cald honeſt Liuers? doe they not thriue beſt, when they vtter moſte, and make it away by the great? is not hole-ſale the chiefeſt marchandize? doe you thinke ſome Merchants could keepe their wiues ſo braue but for their hole-ſale? you'r fowly deceiu'd and you thinke ſo.

You are ſo glewde to puniſhent and ſhame, Your wordes ee'n deſerue whipping—to beare the habit of a Gentlewoman, and be in minde ſo diſtant.

Why you foole you, are not Gentlewomen Sinners? and there's no coragious Sinner amongſt vs, but was a Gentlewoman by the Mothers ſide I warrant you: beſides, wee are not alwaies bound to thinke thoſe our fathers that marrie our Mothers, but thoſe that lye with our Mothers, and they may be Gentlemen borne & born agen for ought we know, you knowe.

True: corruption may well be Generatious firſt, Wee're bad by nature, but by cuſtome worſt.

Oh my Husband.

My Father, O my Father.

My ſweete Maiſter, dead!

Runne boy, bid 'em ring out, hee's dead, hee's g • ne.

Then is as arrant a knaue gone, as ere was cal'd vppon.

Heere Wenefride, heere, heere, heere, I haue alwaies found thee ſecret.

You ſhall alwaies finde me ſo Miſtris.

Take this letter and this Ring.

Yes forſooth.

Oh how all the partes about me ſhake,—enquire for one Maiſter Eaſie at his olde lodging 'ith the Blackfryers,

I will indeed forſooth.

Tell him the partie that ſent him a hundred pound tother day to cōfort his heart, ha's likewiſe ſent him this Letter and this Ring, which has that vertue to recouer him agen for euer ſay—name no body Winifride.

Not ſo much as you forſooth.

Good Girle, thou ſhalt haue a mourning Gowne at the buryall of mine honeſtie.

And ile effect your will a my Fedelitie.

I doe account my ſelfe the happyeſt Widdowe that euer counterfetted weeping, in that I haue the leaſure now, both to doe that Gentleman good, and doe my ſelfe a pleaſure, but I muſt ſeeme like a hanging Moonea little wateriſh a while.

O Maiſter Rerage, I haue loſt the deareſt huſband that euer woman did inioy.

You muſt haue patience yet.

Oh talke not to mee of patience and you loue me, good Maiſter Rerage.

Yet if all tongues goe right, hee did not vſe you ſo wel as a man mought.

Nay, that's true indeed Maiſter Rerage, he nere vſd me ſo well as a woman might haue beene vſde, that's certain in troth ta's beene our greateſt falling out ſir, and though it be the part of a widdowe, to ſhow her ſelfe a woman for her Husbands death, yet when I remember al his vnkindneſſe, I cannot weepe a ſtroake yfaith Maiſter Rerage, and therefore wiſely did a great widdow in this land, comfort vp another, goe too Lady (quoth ſhe) leaue blubbering, thou thinkeſt vpon thy husbands good parts when thou ſheddeſt teares, doe but remember how often hee ha's laine from thee, and how many naughtie ſlipperie turnes he has done thee, & thou wilt nere weepe for him I warrant thee—you would not thinke how that counſell ha's wrought with me Maiſter Rerage, I could not diſpend another teare now, and you would giue me nere ſo much.

Why I count you the wiſer Widdowe, it ſhowes you haue wiſdome, when you can checke your paſſion, for mine owne part, I haue no ſence to ſorrowe for his death, whoſe life was the onely Rub to my affection.

Troth and ſo it was to mine, but take courage now, your'e a Landed Gentleman, & my Daughter is ſeauen hundred pound ſtrong to ioyne with you.

But Lethe lyes'ith way.

Let him lye ſtill, You ſhall treade ore him or ile faile in will.

Sweete widdowe.

What a beloude man did I liue? my Seruants gall their fingers with ringing, my wiues cheeks ſmart with weeping, ſtand in euerie corner, you may take water in my houſe— but am not I a wiſe foole now? what if my wife ſhould take my death ſo to heart, that ſhee ſhould ſicken vppon't, nay ſwone, nay dye? when did I heare of a woman doe ſo, let mee ſee,—Now I remember me, I thinke twas before my Time; yes, I haue heard of thoſe wiues that haue wept, and ſ • bd, and ſwound—marry I neuer heard but they recouered agen, that's a cōfort la, that's a comfort, & I hope ſo will mine —peace, tis nere vppon the time, I ſee, here comes the worſhipful liuerie, I haue the Hoſpital Boyes, I perceiue little Tomazin will beſtow coſt of me,—Ile liſten to the common cenſure now, how the world tongues me when my • are lyes lowe.

Who Quomodo? meerely enricht by ſhifts, And couſnages, beleeue it.

oh my yong Worſhipful M. you haue parted from a deere Father, a wiſe and proui-dent father.

Art thou growne an Aſſe now?

Such an honeſt Father—

Prethee Beadle leaue thy lying, I am ſcarce able to endure thee yfaith, what honeſty didſt thou ere know by my Father ſpeake, rule your tongue Beadle leaſt I make you proue it, and then I knowe what will become of you, tis the ſcuruy eſt thing i'th earth to belye the dead ſo, and hee's a beaſtly Sonne and heyre that wil ſtand by, and heare his father belyed to his face, hee will nere proſper I warrant him, Troth if I be not aſham'd to goe to Church with him, I would I might be hang'd, I feare ſuch filthye Tales goe on him, oh if I had knowne hee had beene ſuch a lewde fellow in his life hee ſhould nere haue kept me company.

Oh—o—o!

But I am glad hee's gone, tho twere long firſt, Shortyard and I will reuell it yfaith, I haue made him my Rentgatherer alreadie.

Hee ſhall bee ſpeedilye diſinherited, hee gettes not a foote, not the Crowne of a Mole-hill, ile ſooner make a courtyer my heyre for teaching my wife trickes then thee, my moſte neglectfull Sonne? Oh now the coarſe, I ſhall obſerue yet farder.

O my moſte modeſt, vertuous and remembring wife, ſhe ſhall haue all when I dye, ſhe ſhall haue all.

Maiſter Eaſie? tis, oh what ſhift ſhall I make now? oh—

Sweete wife ſhe ſownes, ile let her alone, ile haue no mercie at this time, ile not ſee her, ile follow the coarſe.

The Deuill grinde thy Bones, thou co • ſning Raſcal.

Giue her a little more ayre, tilt vp her head, comfort thy ſelfe good widdowe, doe not fall like a Beaſt for a huſband, there's more then wee can well tell where to put e'm, good ſoule.

Oh, I ſhall be well anon.

Fye, you haue no patience yfaith, I haue buried foure Husbands, and neuer offered e'm ſuch abuſe.

Couzen, how doe you?

Sorry to ſee you ill Couze.

The worſt is paſt I hope.

I hope ſo to.

Lend me your hand ſweet Couze I haue troubled you

No trouble indeed forſooth—Good Couzen haue a care of her, comfort her vp as much as you can, and all little ynough I warrant yee.

My life is not ſo deere.

I haue alwaies pittyed you.

Y'aue ſhowne it heere. And giuen the deſperate hope?

Delay not now, y'aue vnderſtood my loue, I haue a prieſt readye, this is the fitteſt ſeaſon, no eye offends vs, Let this kiſſe Reſtore thee to more wealth, me to more bliſſe.

The Angels haue prouided for me.

Now my deſires weare crownes.

My ioyes exceede, Man is neere healthfull, till his follyes bleede.

Oh, beholde the Villaine, who in all thoſe ſhapes Confounded your eſtate.

That ſlaue, that villaine.

So many Acres of good meadowe—

Raſcall.

I heare you ſir.

Rogue, Shortyard, Blaſtfield, Serjeant, Deputy, couſner

I thirſt the execution of his eares.

Hate you that office,

Ile ſtrip him bare for puniſhment and ſhame.

Why doe but heare me ſir, you will not thinke what I haue done for you.

Giuen his Sonne my Lands.

A my troth 'its true ſir: looke you then heere ſir, you ſhall not miſſe a little ſcrowle ſir, pray ſir, let not the Cittie knowe me for a knaue, there be ritcher men would enuie my preferment if I ſhould be knowne before e'm.

How now? freſh warders.

This is the other, binde him faſt, haue I found you Maiſter Blaſtfield.

I loath his voice, away.

What happyneſſe was heere, but are you ſure you haue all?

I hope ſo my ſweete wife.

What difference there is in Husbands, not onelye in one thing, but in all.

Heeres good deedes and bad deedes, the writings that keep my lands to me, and the bonds that gaue it away from me.

Did he want all, who would not loue his care?

What a wife haſt thou Epheſtian—Quomodo, ſo louing ſo mindefull of her duetye not onely ſeene to weep but knowne to ſwone, I knew a Widdow about Saint Antlings ſo forgetfull of hir firſt Husband, that ſhe marryed agen within the tweluemonth, nay ſome berladye within the month: there were ſights to be ſeen, had they my wiues true ſorrows ſeauen nor ſeauen yeares would drawe e'm to the ſtake, I would moſte tradeſmen had ſuch a wife as I, they hope they haue, wee muſt all hope the beſt: thus in her honour.

Now Beadle.

Bleſſe your miſtrisſhips eyes from too many teares, Although you haue loſt a wiſe and worſhipfull Gentleman.

You come for your due Beadle, heere 'ith houſe.

Moſt certaine, the Hoſpitall money and mine owne poore forty pence.

I muſt craue a diſcharge from you Beadle.

Call your man, ile heartilye ſee my hand to a Memorandum.

You deale the truel yer.

Good wench ſtill.

George, heere is the Beadle come for his money, draw a Memorandum that he has receiued all his due he can claim heere ith houſe after this funerall.

What politick directions ſhee giues him, all to ſecure her ſelfe, tis time yfaith now to pitty her, ile diſcouer my ſelfe to her ere I goe, but came it off with ſome liuely ieſt now, that were admyrable: I haue it? after the memorandum is written and all, ile ſet my owne name too't Epheſtian Quomodo, ſheele ſtart, ſheele wonder how Epheſt▪ Quomodo came the ther that was buried yeſterday: y'are beſet little Quomodo.

Ninteene, twentie fiue pound, 1, 2, 3, & 4. d.

So, we ſhall haue good ſport, when tis read:

How now Ladie, paying away money ſo faſt?

The Beadles due here ſir

Whoſe? tis Eaſie, what makes Eaſie in my houſe, Hee is not my wiues ouer ſeer I hope:

Whats here?

He makes me ſweate.

Memorandum that I haue receiued of Richard Eaſie, all my due I can claime here i'th houſe▪ or any hereafter for me: In witneſſe whereof, I haue ſet to mine owne hand, Epheſtian Qommodo.

What haue I done? was I mad?

Epheſtian Quomodo.

I, well, what then ſir? get you out of my houſe, Firſt you maiſter Prodigall had land, away.

What is the Beadle drunke or mad? Where are my men to thruſt him out a doores.

Not ſo good Tomazin not ſo.

This fellow muſt be whipt.

Thanke you good wife.

I can no longer beare him.

Nay ſweete husband.

Husband I me vndone, beggard, couzend, confounded for euer: married alreadie? will it pleaſe you knowe mee now miſtris Harlot, and maſter Horner, who am I now?

Oh, hee's as like my tother husband as can be.

Ile haue iudgement, ile bring you before a Iudge, you ſhall feele wife whether my fleſh be dead or no, ile tickle you yfaith, yfaith.

The Iudge that heele ſolicite knowes me well.

Lets on then, and our greeuances firſt tell.

Here they come.

O where.

Maſter Lethe we may lie together lawfully hereafter, for we are coupled together before people ynow yfaith.

There goes the ſtrumpet.

Twas an impious part.

Oh are you come? my Lord? their here, good morrow Tomazin.

Now what are you?

How are we ſure y'are he?

Oh you cannot miſſe my Lord.

Ile trie you. Are you the man that liu'd the famous couſner?

O no my Lord.

Not I my Lord.

Stay, ſtay a little I pray, now I remember me my Lord, I couſned him indeed, tis wondrous true.

Why la you now, you would not beleeue this, I am found what I am.

Conceiue you not that my Lord? a policy.

So.

Being ill got.

Your Lorpſhip apprehends me.

I thinke I ſhall anon.

O heauen!

How?

Behold his hand againſt it.

He do's deuize all meanes to make mee mad, that I may no more lie with my wife in perfect memorie, I know't b • t • et the landes will maintaine me in my wits: the lande will doe ſo much for mee.

A ieſt my Lord, I did I knew not what.

I, warrant yee.

No my good Lord, the lands know the right heire, I am their maſter once more.

Haue you the lands?

Yes truly I praiſe heauen.

Is this good dealing? are there ſuch conſciences abroad, how? which way could he come by 'em?

O beaſtly Shortyard!

Craft once diſcouer'd ſhewes her abiect line.