SCENA I.

And why not still?

Scena. II.

Are you so well resolu'd? but I may crosse you.

Scena. III.

Nere tell mee on't, a Gentleman must shew himselfe to be a Gentleman.

I so he must sir, but in you there's small resemblance of one.

Come you are an importunate Asse, a dull heavie fel­low, and I must beare with you must I? by this light I will not liue out of the blaze of my fortunes, though it last but a minute, to linger out a tedious siege of adversities.

Yet you may liue with more credit, at a competent rate as your land will allow you.

Land? there was my unhappinesse to haue any, I was borne to none, 'twas meerely thrust upon me, and now I can not be quiet for it; tis like a wife that brings a thousand im­pediments, [Page]I must take an order, I can not walke the streets in peace, your Magnifico stops his great horse to salute me, an other treats of marriage, and offers me his daughter, your Advocate racks me with impertinences, and to free my land from incumbrances troubles me ten times worse, what with friends and Counsellors, fellowes that seeme to me of an o­ther species I could resigne my interest.

All this sir is a grace to you, if you conceiue it.

I'le sell all, twere a sinne to keepe it. When didst thou know an elder brother disinherited, and the land conti­nue with the issue? now for me to liue thriftily upon it, were no otherwise then to mock fate and contemne providence.

But now you know the danger, you may prevent it.

What should I dote upon casualties, trust Scriveners with my money, fellowes that will breake, and all the wit in Towne can't solder them up againe?

You may scorne my advice, but when tis too late—

I tell thee, I'le keepe no Land, not no houses, candle rents that are subject to fire and ruine, I can't sleepe for feare of them; theres no danger in coyne, twill make a man re­spected, drinke, and bee drunke, weare good cloaths, and liue as free as a Parthian.

But when all's gone, where's your respect, and gentili­ty then?

Where ist? why in my blood still, wee'l both runne one course nere out of the vaine I warrant thee.

If you can hold in this vaine tis more lasting then a minerall.

Prethee good honest, old patcht peece of experi­ence, goe home and weare thy selfe out in contemplation, and doe not vexe me with problemes, they can doe no more good upon me, then a young pittifull Lover upon a Mistresse, that has the sullens.

Well sir, I could willingly waite upon you in the way of honour and reputation.

No no, you shall not need my homo frugi, goe about your busines, and though men of my quality, doe seldome part with any thing, for good vses, for Gamesters and Cour­tiers haue but little charity, yet for this once, I will trespasse against custome, and here's something to put you into a for­tune, [Page]I could wish it more, but you know how my man has u­sed me, and my occasions.

I see yet in his good nature a reluctancie against ill courses, hee has not quite shak'd off his humanity, there are hopes to reclaime him; if not sir gallant, when all is spent, the returne of this money will be gratefull; and so farewell.

Adiew, and commend me to my Vncle, tell the Me­chanicks without, that I vouchsafe them admittance. I will not spend all in whoring and sack. I will haue some cloaths of valew, though they be but to pawne in a vacation, for this purpose I haue sent this morning to consult with the authen­tiall iudgements, of my Taylor, Sempster and Haberdasher; and now am I studying with what state I shall use them.

Scena 4.

Come in fellowes, I sent for you together, because you should receiue your instructions: I am to make mee a suit, and I would haue you determine, about the forme and the accou­trements, for the fitting of the points and the garters, and the roses, and the colours of them. Nature is much beholding to you, though there be a difference in the accidents, yet you can reconcile them, & make them suit handsomely together. I am a Gentleman, and would not be disgrac'd for my irregularity.

You say well sir.

I tell you my disposition, I am wholy addicted to ra­rities, things that are new take me; new plays, new mistresses, new servants, new toyes, new fangles, new friends, and new fashions, and these I deale with, as in a quarrell I would not be behind hand with any of them.

Sir you shall command our endeavours.

I thought fit to take your advise, & you are beholding to me, you are the only men in the world that can rule me.

Sir for curiosity wee haue the maydenheads of all the witts in Europe, and to your service wee will imploy both our art and our industry.

I am informed of your qualities, I heare you are men of intelligence, by this light I wonder the state is not afraid of you.

Wee hope they haue no reason for that sir.

Yes, you are dangerous followes, and haue plots and devices upon mens bodies, and are suspected to bee sorcerers, that can transforme a man into what shape you list.

It pleases you to bee merry sir.

Nay by this hand, 'tis given out, that you are great schollers, and are skild in all the habituall Arts, and know their coherences, and that you are a kind of Astrologers, observers of times and seasons, and for making of Matches, beyond all the gallants in the Kingdome.

We would match things as neere as we could sir.

And besides that, you are proud of your knowledge, for when you haue once got a mans good name, you make what account you list of it.

Not so sir.

Yes, and presume upon't, and thinke vvhat ever in­jury you doe a man, you can bee saved by your Booke This is true, and care not a pin for the Law, for you hold good Cu­stome to bee farre beyond it.

We would be loath to giue any Gentleman distast sir.

I must commend you, in that you are not partiall, for you make the like reckoning of every man. Well, to the pur­pose.

You'l haue your suit of the Spanish fashion?

What with two wallets behind me, to put up faults and abuses, or else Ile cashiere my men, and they shall serue me for attendants, hangers on, ha? No by this aire, I am too good a gentleman to haue my arms trickt up with such gewgawes.

Sir, you must be conformable.

Well, I am content to be perswaded: when shall I haue them?

You shall not misse within these three dayes, and what else is requisite, ttust to my care to apply it.

Well I am satisfied, and hereafter beleeue mee, as I beleeue thee.

Sir, Master Spruse is come to visit you.

Master Spruse? prethee bid him come vp. Well, ther's a Gentleman, of all I know, can justly claime admiration, for his complement, his discourse, his habit, his acquaintance, and then for profering of curtesies, & never doing any; I may giue [Page]away all I haue, before I shall arriue at the grace of it.

Pray sir, when did you see the noble Captaine?

Who Captaine Whibble; Masse now thinke on't thou shalt goe seeke him out, and entreat him to meete mee at the Hors-shooe Tauerne at dinner, I loue that house for the signes sake, 'tis the very print of the shooe that Pegasus wore, when hee broke vp Helicon with his hoofe, and now in relation of that, your Poets and Players, still haunt about the brinkes of it. Sirrah tell him withall, that Master Lackewit the Cittizens sonne will bee there, and other good company, and wee vvill have musicke and vvenches, goe thy vvayes, and you Master Snip, meet me about three a clocke to take vp these commodi­ties, so novv I haue done with you.

Scena V.

Saue you Master Carelesse.

Master Spruse you haue much honour'd mee vvith your presence.

I mett vvith a disaster comming vp, something has ravisht the tassell of my Garter, and discompos'd the vvhole fabricke, 'tvvill cost mee an houres patience to re­forme it; I had rather haue seene the Common wealth out of order.

Sure it was not fast tyed to your leg.

As fast together, as the fashion is for friends now adayes to be tyed, with certaine knots of complement, which the least occasion dis-joynes. Ile onely tucke it vp, and when my better leasure permits, reduce it to perfection.

What box haue you there?

A conceit, a conceit, a rare invention one of the hap­piest that ever my witt teem'd withall.

Blesse me with the discovery.

You shall sweare to be silent then.

As close as that covering.

Then looke you, I will participate the mystery; this petty fogging boxe promises that I have great suits in law, this is to delude the world now: But I must tell you I am a kind [Page]of a Sollicitor, an earnest suitor to every wench I see.

Very pretty, proceed.

What doe you thinke I have in this boxe then?

I know not.

A bundle of blanke loue letters, ready pend with as much vehemency of affection, as I could get for money, only wanting the superscription of their names, to whom they shall be directed, which I can instantly, and with ease indorse vpon acquaintance.

And so send them to your Mistresse?

You vnderstand mee. I no sooner fall into discourse with any Lady, but I professe my selfe ardently in lone with her, and being departed, returne my Boy with one of these Letters, to second it, as I said passionately deciphering how much I languish for her. Which shee can not but deepely apprehend, together with the quicknesse and promptitude of my ingenuitie in the dispatch of it.

Ile practise this device. Prethee let mee see one of them, what's heere? To the fayre hands of—

I there wants a name, they fit any degree or person whatsoever.

Let mee see this then. To the Lady and Mistresse of his thoughts, and service.

There wants a name too. They are generall things.

Ile open it by your favour sir, whats heere? Most resplondent Lady, that may justly bee stiled, the accomplishment of beautie, the Seat and mansion of all delight, and vertue, in whom meete the joy, and desires of the happie. Some man heere perhapps might feare, in praysing your worth, to heighthen your disdayne, but I am forc'd though to the perill of my neglect, to acknowledge it: For to this houre my curious thoughts, and wandering, in the Spheare of feminine perfection, could never yet finde out a subiect like your selfe, that could so de­taine and commaund my affection.

And so it goes on: How doe you like it?

Admirable good, put them up againe.

Nay I haue so strange a wit, few men do jumpe with it.

You haue a very compleat suit on too me thinkes.

Tis as fresh as the morning, and thats the grace on't, a new Play, and a Gentleman in a new suit, claime the same pri­viledge, at their first presentment their estimation is double.

And whither now doe your employments direct you?

I tooke your lodging by the way, I am going to da­zell the eyes of the Ladies with my apparition.

I am not so conformable as I could wish, or else I would attend you. I tooke up a new man, for pitties sake, some three dayes since, to waite upon me, which foolish sinne I will abandon whilst I liue for it. Hee ran away with two hundred pounds, the remnant of a morgage, and since that I was put to a new perplexity to supply me.

By this hand, if you had spoke but yesterday I could haue furnisht you.

Why what a rare way is here now, to engage a man for nothing? I must study it.

How does your brother digest the losse of his inhe­ritance?

Very well sure, for sometimes he has nothing else to digest; and hee has enough of that too: it sticks in his sto­macke worse then a Surfet. Alasse wee landed men are but fooles to him, it makes him sober, and wise, very temperate.

Theres Valeria a foolish peevish thing that he cals Mistresse, good for nothing but to whet a mans wit, and make a Whore on, I can't beleeue there's any reall loue betweene them.

Has she received any of your Letters?

Yes twenty, and nothing will prevaile. I haue sought to corrupt her any time this twelue moneth, and can doe no good on her, her father giues me opportunity out of pretence of good will, but I use it cleane contrary; for alasse, I can not loue any wench farther then to lye with her. I can not [Page]fashion my tongue to speake in any other Character. I would not willingly loose all this time and labour. I'le make short of it, either worke her to obedience, or doe her a mischiefe.

Tis well resolved, and there's her sister Aemilia. She will glance sometimes affectionately upon me; were it not a mad thing, when I haue sold all my Land to her father to get her into advantage? I thinke that will be the end of it.

Me thinkes Lackwit her brother might stand thee in some stead for the conveyance.

Well tis the truest spaniell that, I put a hundred jeers upon him, and yet he loues me the better, I can pawne him as familiarly as my cloake.

The time cals upon me.

Ile dismisse you, will you present my service to the Ladies and excuse me?

I shall bee proud to make my tongue the Organ of your commands sir.

I will hold you no longer from your happinesse, but I shall envie the intercourse of your mirth.

Scena. VI.

Then he is past hope?

Hee has no sense of his misery, a strong stupidity, a lethargy has possest him: his disease is infectious, it has caught hold of his estate, & brought that into a consumption.

No meanes to reclaime him?

I know not what to apply, when remedies are hurt­ful, giue him good counsell, and you poyson him.

I would my brother had beene better advised, then to giue his Land to a Prodigall.

Fitter indeed the right Heire should haue had it: you might doe well to turne your compassion upon him: a poore iniur'd Gentleman, and stands equall in your blood.

No Ile marry a wife, and get an heire of mine owne, I haue made a motion to Master Little good the Vsurer, about one of his daughters, and wee are partly agreed, I am going to aske her good will in it.

Looke you sir. Pray stand by, here hee comes with his trayne.

Is it not well resolu'd Captaine?

Yes by the soule of Hercules, tis a good foresight, to sell all and prevent misfortunes. The world's full of uncer­taineties: Land may be barren, servants deceitfull, make money I say, & what a man spends with his friends, shal ne're perish.

I say by the heart of valour, that man liues best at ease, that has no money at all.

What shall he doe then Lieutenant?

By the faith of a souldier, for the exercise of his wits hee may doe any thing: if all trades fayle he may turne Pimpe, tis a noble profession to liue by, if he can performe that office well, hee need aske no more of his Genius.

Body of me, nor no better preferment.

As I am a sinner tis a good science, a mathematicall mysterie of undermining holds, and when the breach is open, be the first man that shall enter.

But I thinke there bee so many of them, they can hardly liue one for an other.

As I am vertuous tis growne into credit, and you haue very good men that study it. Good Knights and Squiers that haue thriu'd by it.

Stab me, what sullen Saturne is that, lookes so ob­lique upon us, as I am Martiall I will confront his aspect.

Good Captaine be appeas'd, it is my Vncle, I can not avoyd him: let me entreat your absence for a while, meet me at the Horse-shooe.

Fire of my blood you shall rule me: come Lieute­nant.

Scena. VII.

Shall I speake or hold my peace?

E'ne which you please, good Vncle.

I tis all one to you, for any impression I shall make: would I could refraine to take notice of thee, but still nature over swayes me, and affection breaks out into counsell but to no purpose.

Troth vncle youth will haue his swing.

I upon a Gallowes, if you hold on, that will bee the end of you. That I should liue to see my brothers goods so [Page]mispent, the life of his labours suckt out by such Horse­leaches.

Horseleaches, doe you know what you say? no, you doe not apprehend the worth that dwels in these men: to see how a man may be mistaken in the distinction of vertue.

Nay sir, tis as I told you, you may as soone recall an ar­row when tis flying, or a stone from praecipice, as reclaime him.

Oh vncle, that you should thus carpe at my happines, and traduce my Camradoes, men of such spirit and valour.

Yes, Captaine and Lieutenant, how a vengeance came they by these titles? fellowes that haue beene onely flesht in the ruine of blacke pots, and glasse windowes, the very skum of all rudenesse.

Haue you any money about you?

What to doe?

Bribe me to keepe counsell: you are but a dead man if they know on't: you haue pust out your soule in their ca­lumnies.

Hang them fellowes so sordid, that no disgrace can sticke upon them, they are choyse company; for there's hard­ly the like of them. A man cannot discerne the ground of their discourse for oaths, unlesse you were divorc'd from all reason, you would not be wedded to such acquaintance.

Why how now mungrell, are you barking? by this ayre tis an indignity to my discretion, that is so happy in the election of their vertues: the onely prime wits in towne, things come so rarely from them, a man is kept in a perpetuall appetite. I would not let them stay to offend you, neither can I endure their reproach. Farewell vncle.

Well I will not trouble my selfe any more to looke after him, Ile marry, and thrust him out of all, that's the con­clusion.

Desinit Actus primus.

SCENA I.

But are you certaine of it?

Yes sir, was it he?

That Begger, that undone thing.

Let me alone, I warrant you.

I leaue you.

If you doe know't so well, why doe you aske me?

Pray let me counsell you.

Why whats the matter?

All this and more, Lovers can speake at pleasure.

Hold there.

I haue engagd it to your friend already.

But loue makes no distinction.

Scena II.

Crochet vvhere are you?

I am heere sir.

Crochet you know, that I am determind to marry my other daughter Aemilia, to old Dotario the Citizen.

Yes sir, and then shee and I shall be both in one predicament.

How so man?

Why sir, for ought that I can perceive, shee is like to haue but a cold reversion, and thats the ordinary allowance for men of my function, ther's not so much left of him, as will satisfie a Ladyes appetite for once, hee is pickt to the very bones vvith age, and diseases.

Tis no matter so long as his purse is vvell cram'd.

His purse that shee lookes after is lanke enough I vvarrant it, it greiues mee to the heart, that such a young beginner as my Mistrisse, should have no better hopes of trading.

Belike thou thinkst that Nature is vncharitable in him, no he has benevolence in store for her; vvhat because he is old, I am old my selfe, man.

And if he vvere older, tvvere no great matter.

If I vvere older knave?

No sir, if he vvere older.

Why vvhat then?

His death would the sooner make her honourable: for hauing one foote in the bed, and the other in the grave, if shee be rul'd by mee, 'tis but her giving him a lift, and the next turne marry with a Lord.

Sayst thou mee so?

Yes sir, a Citizens wife no sooner casts her rider, but one of your Court gallants mounts her presently.

The knaue is very pleasant.

Why sir, your Citizens widdows are the onely rub­bish of the kingdom, to fill vp the breaches of decayed houses.

Whats her preferment then, Crochet?

Why then sir, shee shall be made a Lady at the least, and take place of her mother. Shee shall haue clyents waite at her gates with presents, and yet haue their servile offices passe vnregarded, shee shall mannage her husbands estate, and advise him in his office.

Is that all?

No sir, shee shall haue more privileges then that, to be as proud as shee list, and haue new wayes to expresse it, shee shall ride vp and downe in her Litter, and haue a Coach, and foure Horses follow after, full of Gentlemen Vshers and waiting women.

And yet the foolish girle will not perceiue it.

Alas sir, though you and I haue so much wit to looke into these things, how should my yong Mistrisse be capable of it, when her husband that shall be is not able to put the case to her?

Go, fetch her hither, Ile advise my selfe.

O these perverse girles, that are led with nothing, but fan­cy foolish things, and yet have wit to bee obstinate, if they set vpon a toy, they must haue it because they are wilfull, then they are as changeable in love as a Camelion, and thinke they can liue by the ayre of it. They wil venter to sell their fathers fortunes and their owne, for a nights lodging.

Scena III

Come Aemilia, these showers are vnseasonable. They will extinguish the torch, that should burne bright before thy unptiall; be not dismayd, you are young and so is Aurora, shee [Page]lookes fresh every morning: yet disdaines not to kisse her old Tithou, and lyes all night with him, and when shee rises, be­trayes with her blushes, the wanton heat of her paramour.

Good sir, thinke your power may command my du­ty, but not my affection.

Tempt not my patience, I would not willingly vse the authority of a father to command, what I had rather winne by entreaty.

You know sir, the incovenience still happens to these forc'd matches, they never come to good, and if you compell mee to like of him, you must expect the same issue, you shall neuer make mee any other president.

Not when I entreat you?

I shall never love him.

And you know sir, what an ominous thing it is, when a woman does not loue her husband, shee will either cuckold him, or poyson him, and so be burnt for a Martyr in wedlock. a Lit. Shee must fashion her selfe to loue him, I have vn­dertooke it.

And then Ile vndertake for the tother.

Will shee haue her liberty restrain'd? will shee re­nounce my protection? shall not I dispose of her? if not, let her vse her pleasure, betray her selfe, like her other sister to beggery, be like Scylla, cut the purple haire of my life, and then turne Monster, let her.

Oh mee, what shall I doe? would my life were a sacrifice.

Ile tell you what you shall doe, be advis'd; refuse not a good offer, thinke of old Dotario, thinke how to love him, thinke of his wealth, thinke of his honour, thinke of mee, thinke of your selfe, thinke what will come after, if you be stubborne.

And what ere you think to do, say nothing Mistresse.

Well Crochet, Ile leaue thee to perswade her whil'st I fetch the old man to confime it

Well, Mistresse you doe not apprehend the good you may have, by marrying of an old man.

Prethee what good?

First, besides the honour he shall conferr vpon you by his age, you shall not find him so fiery, and vnruly as common­ly your youths are, and therevpon being cold of his tempter, you may the easier mannage him.

Thy mirth comes importunely on my greife.

Then you shall be his darling, and he shall dote vpon you, and though he striues to please you never so much, he shall lament, that he can doe it no better, and acknowledge his weakenesse, that he comes short of your desert, and what he desires, and be sorry, that all he has, is too little for you.

I perceive it well enough Crochet.

The onely thing that you need feare him for, is his tongue, for they say old men are great talkers, but you'l match that member well enough, and for any other part about him, you'l have but little to doe withall.

Scena IIII.

Looke you here comes the old Leacher, he lookes as fresh as an old play new vampt, pray see how trim hee is, and how the Authours have corrected him, how his Taylor, and his Barber have set him forth; sure he has receiued an other impression

I thinke the foole will be tedious.

Well, now I have brought you together, heere Ile leaue you, when lovers parly, Parents are no fitt Auditors; see that you vse the Gentleman respectiuely, and though sir, shee seeme coy and deny you, impute it not to perversenes but mo­desty. Mayds in their first assaults consult with shame, in the next with weakenesse. So I leave you,

Faire Mistresse, I would aske you a question, if you please to answer me.

No Mistresse of yours Sir, yet if you aske nothing but what I please to answer, you may.

I would first demand your opinion of me.

Truly I have no skill to make any conjecture by the outward appeareance, but by the Title page of your face, I should judge you to be somewhat ancient.

Take my word for it, the Index is false printed, if you please to turne to the booke, you shall find no such thing written.

O tis worme eaten, time has cankerd it, besides there be so many dashes, my vnderstanding will not serve mee to reade it, and a woman has no vse of her Clergy.

But love has renew'd it sweete Lady, and this is ano­ther edition.

How long is it since the coppy has beene al­ter'd?

Let it not seeme strange to you that I have felt this transformation, your forme has wrought a miracle vpon me, the pulchritude of your feature, that is able to extract youth out of age, and could make Aeson young againe, without the helpe of Medea, it has put a fire into mee, and I must impute it neither to Herbes, nor Philtrums, but to the influence, and power of your beauty.

A fire, 'tis a foolish one, that leades you without the precinct of your gravity, I strange, a man of your judgement should talke so preposterously.

Why sweete Lady?

Sweete Lady, what a petulant word is there, for a man of your beard? a Boy of fifteene would not have spoke it without blushing, and ther's a smile able to turne my stomack. I wonder you will make your selfe so ridiculous.

If this be the best language shee can afford him, 'twere safe for mee not to heare it. I may be call'd for a witnesse.

Stay Crochet, whither goest thou?

Ile come presently sir, Ile come presently.

Now you are alone, Ile tell you what I thinke of you, you are an old doting foole, one that twenty yeares [Page]since, has drunke the Lethe of humanity, and forgot of what sexe thou wert, worne out of all remembrance of thy selfe, thou hast a body, that a feaver cannot heat, nor poy­son worke upon, a face more rugged then winter, thy beard is mosse, and thy skin so hard, that the perpetuall dropping of thy nose cannot soften it.

These indignities are not to be endur'd, her abuses are more monstrous, then the prodegie shee would make of me.

And yet you would bee in loue forsooth, whom Cu­pid with all his strength is not able to pierce, you haue not one pore open to let in an Arrow, more need haue a cordiall to comfort you.

Ranke iniuries, mocke me to my teeth.

If you had any.

I would your father heard you: he left no such thing in your Commission. How dare you doe it?

Yes and if I marry you, Ile use you accordingly, Ile haue no mercy on thy age, I tell you before hand, that when it happens, it may not seeme strange to you.

Well shee may play with the line, Ile giue her scope enough, but when I haue her fast, Ile twitch her, and draw her as I list to me.

Doe but heare what I say to you, and it shall fall out, no Prognostication like it.

Sure tis some fury, it cannot be a woman shee is so impudent.

When I am your wife, if you are so hardy to ven­ter on me, your whole study shall be to please me, and yet I will not grace it with acceptance; I will liue as your Em­presse, lye a bed, and command you, and your servants, and you shall not dare to anger me.

Not dare to anger you.

No if you doe, I will fill the house with noyse, and deafe thee with clamours.

Sweet heart you shall haue all content, I loue a life these spirited wenches, that are all fire and motion, they stirre a quicknesse in a man, in fuse an activity.

Hee will not be put off, I must terrifie him farther: and for your estate, you shall not meddle with it, Ile take up [Page]your rents for you, and dispose of them, as I thinke fit; onely Ile allow you to carry some farthings in your pouch to giue to Beggers.

And what will you doe with the rest sweeting?

For the rest, Ile spend it upon my selfe in bravery: there shall not be a new fashion, but Ile haue it. Ile looke af­ter nothing else; your house shall be a mart for all trades. Ile keepe twenty continually at worke for me; as Taylors, Perfu­mers, Painters, Apothecaries, Coach-makers, Sempsters, and Tire-women. Besides Embroyderers, and Pensions for in­telligencers.

Shee'l waste all I haue in a moneth: the expences of an Army will not maintaine her.

Besides, I will haue acquaintance with all the La­dies in Court, and entertaine them with banquets, yet for all that I will make my complaint of you to them, traduce your infirmities, and they shall conspire against you, and pitty mee.

I had rather bee under twenty Executions, then the lash of their tongue.

Then you shall kisse mee very seldome, and when I vouchsafe you the favour: and you shall doe it not as a hus­band, but as a father, not a smacke of lasciviousnesse.

What a sanctified creature shall I enioy?

I will lye with you the first yeare once a moneth, as a Parson vses to instruct his Cure, and yet not bee question'd for neglect, or non residence: marry the next yeare, if you liue so long, once a quarter shall suffice you.

The next yeare if I liue so long? shee thinkes of my death already.

These are the least of your evils. I will haue one to cuckold you, and you shall take it for a curtesie, and use him the kindlier for it.

Oh me, I can endure it no longer, that word strikes cold to my heart: were I an enemy, and shee had vanquisht mee, I would not yield to such Articles. Ile propose these conditions to her father, and see if hee will allow them in all conscience to be reasonable.

Master Carelesse promis'd to bee here instantly. Ile tell him what a fine youth he has to his Vncle.

Saue you Master Carelesse.

Whence come you, from Apollo?

I thought I had beene worthy salutation.

Doe you want money?

But doe you dare trust me?

I giue it freely.

Why doe you aske?

If hee could get it.

Tis such a ranke Goat.

Scena. VI.

Bring me to that, and ile yield to any thing.

Nay, good wife heare me.

You shall pardon me: he is my sonne I hope, as well as yours, and he shall bee fashion'd after my humour: why, should you thinke to hinder my prospect from looking to him? I say he shall ranke with the best, spend his money and learne breeding.

Doe, make a Gallant of him or a Gull, either will serue, he may ride up and downe, and haue his Coach waite for him at Playes and Tavernes, take up upon trust, consort with wits and sword-men, bee afraid of Sergeants, and spend more for his Protection then would pay the debt: he may be a Stickler for quarrels, and compound them at his owne charge: reele every night to his lodging, and be visited in the morning with borrowing Letters, dice at Ordinaries, and lend on all hands.: seale at all houres, or be beaten to it. These are gifts in a sonne, beyond art or nature, for a father to be proud of, or else he may runne away with all he can get, and when tis gone, lye at a neighbours house till his peace be made.

No you shall keepe him still at home with you; he shall not dare to enlarge his Charter, to haue any more wit then his father, let him sit in the shop with nere a paire of cuffs on his hands, and play at Fox and Geese with the fore­man, entertaine customers, with a discourse as moatheaten as your cloath, and not be able to looke upon a Lady, but court some filly creature of his owne tribe, with speeches out of bookes, ten times worse then any remnant; and after supper steale abroad and be drunke in feare, this you can be content with. Well, when he was a child, it was the prettiest talking thing, and the wittiest withall, the neighbours tooke such delight to heare it. There was a good Knight lay in my house then was so kind to him, but you nere knew the reason, since you haue cleane marr'd him that's apparant.

Ile doe any thing wife that you will haue me.

Yes when tis too late; and the custome of rusticity is growne into an other nature with him, when his mind is setled upon the Lees of it, and the edge of his humour quite taken off, when learning has brought downe his spirit, then you'l repent his restraint; has he not a pretty ingenuity?

So much the worse, when tis corrupted: marke mee what I say, giue him the reines, and if Fidlers sleepe in a [Page]weeke, Tavernes keepe their doores shut, the Constable sit on a stall in peace, or wenches walke the streets for him (if he be like his father) nere credit me againe.

So much the better, I would haue it so, giue him meanes to performe it, shew your selfe a loving father, and be true in your prophesie.

I must yield to her for my quietnesse sake, was ever man thus tyed to a Chymera, thus vext with that should bee his happinesse. I haue married with tumult, and begot my affliction, not one of my generation will be rul'd; and for my wife, shee has a tongue will runne post sixteene stages to­gether, and nere tire for it; with that she can worke me to any agreement. Well take your sonne to your charge, doe what you list with him: but for the wenches, Ile either chuse them husbands, or else they shall trudge without any other Dowry, then what nature has bestowed on them, that's cer­taine.

Within there, call your young Master hither Crot­chet, hee has beene all this day at his study, makes the boy mopish with his scholership, for want of better exercise; as revelling, courting, feasting, and the like, be stands plodding and musing as if his eyes turn'd with a wire, it has poysond his very complexion, he is growne fallow with it, I know not what would become of him, if I did not sometimes put mo­ney in his purse, and send him abroad, to sinne for his recrea­tion.

Sweet wife be pacified.

No, Ile teach you what tis to anger a woman that brought a Dowry with her.

See what a Picture of formality you haue made of him, come hither sonne Lackwit, what booke haue you there?

This is a booke of Heraldry forsooth, and I doe find by this booke that the Lackwits are a very ancient name, and of large extent, and come of as good a Pedegree, as any is in the Citie; besides they haue often matcht themselues into very great families, and can quarter their Armes, I will not say with Lords, but with Squiers, Knights, Aldermen, and the like, and can boast their descent to be as generous, as any of the Lafooles, or the Iohn Dawes whatsoever.

What be the Armes sonne?

The Lackwits Armes, why they are three Asses ram­pant, with their eares prickant, in a field Or, and a Rams head for their crest, that's the Armes.

Well said sonne, stand for the credit of the house.

Nay, I will uphold it besides, though my father be a Citizen, yet I am a Gentlemans sonne by the mothers side.

I that he is ile be sworne, the Fondlings are as good Gentlemen, as any be in the Citie, the boy has a Parlous head, how should he find out this I marvaile?

Find it out, as if I were such a foole, I did not know my owne Coat.

Yet husband, I never saw you weare one in my life.

Not a fooles coate, but I shall haue one of your Spinning very shortly.

Ile tell you father if I lift now; I can goe twenty degrees backe like a crab, to find out the tracke of our genti­lity.

Loe you there, can you bee content thou man per­verse to all reason, having a sonne of so large and prosperous hopes, that might stand up the glory of his kindred, of such pregnancie of wit and understanding, so rich in the qualities that can beare up a Gentleman, to let him sinke, and not che­rish him with those helpes that might advance his gallantry. You haue had your florishing season, and are now withered, your blossomes of beauty are blowne off & therefore must be content out of that dry stalke to afford some sap to maintaine his succession; pray how many young Gentlemen haue you in this Towne, that goe in plush, and their fathers to plow in the countrey? shall we haue worse Presidents in the Citie? impart I say, and giue him twenty peeces, and when they are gone giue him twenty more.

What to doe?

Will you disparadge him, as if he knew not what to doe with it? doe you thinke that Fencers, Dancers, Horse­matches (Ile haue him verst in all these, and omit nothing that may demonstrate his breeding;) besides Mistresses, and implements that belong to them require, nothing?

Was ever any mother in this humour? that should re­claime her sonne from his ill courses, to animate him, and sup­ply [Page]his ryot: let her enioy her follies, smart for them, and then repent; here hold, there's twenty peeces, I am sure all throwne away, they are in a consumption already, and will be dead, and drawne out by to morrow. What thinkest thou Crotchet?

Nay sir they are condemn'd, that's certaine, you haue past your iudgement upon them, and my young Master must execute it.

I giue it lost Crotchet, I giue it lost; but stay, my daughters; I had need haue Argus eyes to looke about mee, or the Dragons that watcht the Hesperides: I am beset on all hands; my daughters are wily, my wife wilfull, my sonne I know not what, with the feare of my money, doe so distract me, that my wits are disioynted amongst them, all the remain­der of my hopes is, if Valeria haue prooved tractable to Mr. Spruse, and that Dotario has received comfort in his Aemilia. I labour with expectation till I goe in, and be delivered.

Stay husband, Ile go with you: but harke you son Lack­wit, doe you know to what purpose this gold was given you?

To no purpose at all, but I know, what I purpose to doe with it.

What ist?

I purpose to make a medicine of it.

A medicine.

Yes I will dissolue it into Aurum potabile, and drinke nothing but healths with it.

Then you are right.

Nay I will domineer, and haue my humors about me too.

Doe any thing, for the improuement of your discipline. Come Crotchet.

Stay Crotchet, doe you perceiue nothing? you dull animall looke here.

I sir, I hope you meane to giue me one, or two of them.

No, I will not giue, nor lend a friend a penny, there's no such confutation of a mans being a Gentleman; but when I am drunke, and haue my wine and my whores about me, Ile spend twenty or thirty shillings upon you, but I will not giue you a penny Crotchet.

Then farewell sir.

You know where to come to me, you shall find me in my pentificalibus.

SCENA I.

What ere he sayes, I resolue nere to trust him.

Scena. II.

See here he comes againe.

What's the matter?

Indeed my sister, and I, know you well enough.

I so you told me.

Hold thy owne there wench, and I warrant thee.

And so it sounded first to the same tune.

That was ill sett, this is a different passion.

But 'tis all shew; and nothing serious.

But I shall never so interpret it.

What can I say more, then to sware I loue you.

Scena III.

Scena IIII.

Is this one of his comrades?

Yes very faine sir, if you durst attempt it.

Then you may lye by the Lee, and mend it.

This will not satisfie me.

No, not as you are vertuous.

But if I come, and loose my labour, what followes?

Then Teucer, in pure zeale and verity,

Ile belabour you the next time I meet you.

What is he gone?

Why mischiefe?

I doe not thinke he would ever draw a blank.

Come.

Scena. V.

You know father, for I must still call you so, how you [Page]charg'd your daughter to use me respectiuely.

Yes marry did I: and to shew a double dutie, as might suite with the reverence of your age, and honour of her hus­band.

Well, and as soone as you were gone, she had no more regard to mee, then if I had beene an old horse, or an old Ser­vingman.

Why tis impossible shee should transgresse in such a high poynt of humanity.

Else there was some fury in her shape that did so. I am sure she shapt me out to bee the ridiculousest old asse in Europe.

Her modesty would not permit it in her.

If my words haue any weight in them; she set as light by me, as by the least feather in her Fanne.

Why is this true Aemilia?

No indeed sir.

How no indeed; doe you deny it? O palpable, shee reckond up a whole Catalogue of abuses, and malicious pra­ctises, that she would assault me with, if I were her husband, the least of which were aboue all patience.

Doe you thinke sir, if I intended any such thing, I would haue forewarned you?

No tis not likely.

That you had but heard the disgrace she put upon me, in calumniating the vigour, and ability of my person.

I cannot beleeue it.

And then terrified me, that the wind of her humour should be still against me, to crosse me in every thing I desired, yet the course of my destiny should be more impetuous then before.

The old Gentleman did but dreame so.

Nay more, she said I was an old dry stumpe, that had not the least drop of moisture in me, yet by the vertue of her humidity, shee would make my temples so supple, that they should sprout, and bud a fresh.

Come she would not say so.

Yes, and that all my estate should bee too little, to maintaine her in prodigality, and invite acquaintance.

Alasse good Gentleman, I told him how other wo­men vsed their husbands, but I would conforme my selfe to obedience.

I, that you might know what a blessing you had in her.

Oh was it so? I cry you mercy, I mistooke you. Here take this Pearle for amends; I am sorry I haue sinned against so sweet a simplicity.

Come I knew you were in an error.

Then to avoyd all cavillation hereafter, see what I haue provided.

What haue you there?

I haue here a Syngraphus, a writing with articles, that must be drawn between us, before there can be any copulation.

Wherefore, did you so?

Looke you sir, I was in a little suspense of her beha­viour, and therefore in relation of that, which I thought she objected, yet has since proved to be otherwise: notwithstan­ding these rules, which may so much conduce to my happi­nesse, and haue beene so much advis'd upon with deliberation, I would haue establish't.

Pray lets heare them.

They are onely some sew propositions, and excepti­ons to bee observed on her behalfe, for the better security of my quiet, when I shall be married to her.

Now I conceiue you, reade them out.

First, that after Hymen has once joyned us together, she shall admit of no man whatsoever, to intitle him with any suspitious name of friend, or servant: doe you marke me.

Well proceed.

Next▪ if any of her old acquaintance come to visit her, as Nurses, Midwifes, and the like, creatures of secresie, she shall returne them word, she is not within, or otherwise accommodated.

Very good.

Ile haue it written so upon the doores.

You may perceiue by her silence, shee will consent to any thing.

Then to avoyd alloccasions of writing Epistles, she shall receiue none, nor haue any Paper, Pen, Inke, or Waxe in her closet.

That's somewhat hard.

Shee shall not haue any masculine bawdy Picture hang in her Chamber, but shall take it downe, and sell it away as a thing unprofitable, and an inticement of phantasie.

That in my conceit is very reasonable.

She shall bid no man to dinner, but I will invite them, and when they are set, shee shall not cast amorous glances up­on them, nor drinke to them, nor licke her lips at them, nor shew her teeth when she laughs, nor her tongue when shee sneezes.

For all these, ile engage my selfe.

Besides, she shall not take upon her, to contrary me in any thing, nor seeme more or lesse wise then my selfe.

That's not much amisse neither.

Shee shall send no Hierogliphicks, nor meate cut in Characters, nor tread upon any mans foote under the Table, nor when they are risen, giue them her hand to kisse, or open her palme to haue her fortune told her, nor yet shew them her ring, or receiue any of theirs, and read the poesies.

Is this all?

She shall know no language but her owne, nor speake any equivocating word.

In my mind now these lawes are very consonant to a good disposition, and if I were to marry my selfe, I'de pro­pose the like.

And for her religion, she may pray to any innocent goddesse, as Diana and the graces, but if she haue any thing to say to Mars, Mercury, or Apollo, she shall acquaint mee with it, and I will present her devotions.

Haue you done now?

Last of all, when she is ready to goe to bed, she shall not put out the candle to walke up and downe in her smocke, and shake her body in the darke, and if she be content, I take her as my owne.

All these she shall subscribe to, if shee be my daughter.

Why then weele proceed to the Church?

Are you agreed or no?

Pray let me speake one word with him in private.

Yes what you-please sweet Lady, it is granted, were it a hundred pound to buy pins and petticoats.

What are you agreed?

Scena VI.

Something about the Captaine.

How, make her mad, what doe you expect from that: what can you gaine by the losse of her wits?

I shall gaine my desire.

Not any of these.

Twere a mad jest: but is this all your plot?

SCENA I.

I desire sir to incorporate my selfe into your ac­quaintance.

Tis well said, doe the like noble office to our friend here sweet Lievtennant.

Sir he shall command my heart and hand on his occasions, Ile as soone draw in his quarrell, as to pisse against a wall.

These are the mirrours of the time old boy, that shall shew you how to adorne your behaviour, that you may passe in all company with confidence of approbation.

And not erre the breadth of a naile.

He shall be able to passe through the needles of all occurrences.

And they would but learne me to sweare and take Tobacco, tis all I desire.

Come they shall doe it, and I must tell you, these suggestions in you are arguments of a generous disposition, whence doe they flow I wonder?

That mother wit that put them in my head, has put money in my purse, and as farre as that money will leade me, I will be bold and wise: I have my humours, and I scorne the pollution of the Mechannicks.

How doe you like these replyes Captaine?

Very well, by the faith of a souldier, excellent well, they are good rellishing answers, and expresse an ebullition in his nature, swelling to conformity.

What, I will beare my selfe like a Gentleman.

I, and the way to beare your selfe like a Gentleman, is sometimes not to be able to beare your selfe at all. Lieve­tennant, what say you?

You have no other way then this, to render you worthy of society.

What, he may turne stinkard, and live in the Coun­try with rootes and bacon, and not drinke a cup of good wine in a twelve-moneth, nor know how the yeare goes a­bout, but by observation of Husbandry. He may keepe two couple of dogs and a Sparrow-hawk, and levell his discourse by them. He may be stil'd a civill Gentleman, ten sphaeres below a foole: He may marry a Knights daughter, a creature out of fashion, that has not one commendable quality, more then to make a corner pye and a sallad, no manner of court­ship, but two or three dances, as old as Mounsier, and can play a few Lessons on the Virginalls that she learnt of her Grandam: besides she is simple, and dull in her dalliance.

He tells thee right my brave Frisker, they are lum­pish girles, heavy in their sport, and cannot move with art.

There's a wench, has her Suburb trickes about her I [Page]warrant you: hold there Bellerophon, take thy Ocyrois, and mount her like Phlegon.

Now doe I want some two or three good oaths, to expresse my meaning withall.

Captaine, what thinke you, shall he be a brother?

Are you resolved to be a brother sir?

Any thing I, you shall make a blowing horne, or what you list of me.

Nothing can be suddenly perfect, but must aspire by progression, he must be practised in certaine duties, before he can be an ingrafted member of the fraternity.

He shall doe any thing that is requisite.

Well then, for the first two moneths we must dine every day at a Taverne, where it shall be lawfull for any bro­ther to bring his shadow with him; and besides the full in­come of wine and provision, to bespeake any superfluous dish that he affects: but that which shall most commend the dis­cretion of your worth, is, that after the dissolution of the Feast, no man besides your selfe must know what's to pay, or take notice of the reckoning.

I must pay all, must I?

You understand me rightly, and I applaud your ca­pacity; from thence, we must have a Coach attend at the doore, to carry us to a Play, and at night to a Bawdy-house.

And all at my charges?

What else? And if any brother need a Cloake, or a Sute, or so, you must not stay till he publish or intimate his wants; but presently, by the strength of your owne Minerva, picke out the meaning, and take order to supply him: have you any credit with the Tradesmen?

Yes, I have a Taylor that will trust mee for any thing that Ile have him.

That Taylor shall have custome, tell him so; and one thing more, now brother, for so I must call you, we must have all things in common, no difference in the possession of any thing.

Pray explain that rule to me, I do not understand you.

Why thus; this Hat is mine, and that yours, as you conceive now, but they are neither mine nor yours upon the premises: but may be transferr'd upon occasion to either, as thus, doe you conceive me? Tis usuall amongst us.

Tis very well, is this all?

Ile make but one experiment more of your appre­hension, and have done. Looke you.

O I shall doe this to a haire, and by the same con­sequence I shall be a Captaine somtimes: shall I not?

Yes, when the date of your taske is accomplisht, you shall be any thing.

Tis enough, this once a weeke will render him ex­act. Shall's haue a song and a dance Captaine?

Hang a Song, you see what little roome wee have for our mirth, and you would fill it up with aire, would you?

Nay, but by that aire, I hold a Song very delight­some, the very place, as a man would say, and superficies of pleasure.

Prithee let it alone, by that element it charmes me into melancholly.

Then good Captaine let's have a Dance, for these Gentlewomens sakes; besides there be many that come to see nothing else.

Why can you dance?

What a question is there to a man of quality? Yes I can dance, and that some that are here shall see and feele before we part; for I meane to shake my heeles with that fervour, that it shall strike them into a fit of my love, shall be worse then any ague to them.

Say you so? Wee'l try that ifaith. Come on Squea­kers, racke up our feet and eares to your Instruments.

What tune Captaine?

Play us the fine Companion.

Well said my efteminate Varlets, this was auspiciously per­formed.

I am afraid this dancing will breed spavins in my legs, this caper has put me in remembrance of a clicke in my back, I got at my last vaulting.

No thou art deceiv'd my noble Hyacinth, tis a my­stery will exalt thee Hylas, 'twill make thee rise I say, and put gold in thy purse, thou shalt follow the Court like a Ba­boone, when a thousand proper fellowes shall sherke for their ordinary; 'twill make thee conversant with Ladies, and they shall give thee Diamonds to pawne, and thou shalt ride up and downe in thy foot-cloth my little Dolphin Some wine there Tony: I call'd for wine an houre agoe, and could get none.

Fill out sirrah. What's here the Epitome of a glasse? By the wombe of Bacchus, a score of them are too little for a draught.

O Lord Captain, nine such hornets are able to sting a man to death.

By Saint George he that dyes so, dyes valiantly.

What my bold Bravo, be not afraid, and thou wert dead 'twere nothing, Ile come but with a troope of Wen­ches: and a noyse of Fidlers, and play thee backe like Orpheus. What's to pay Drawer?

Sir you have built a sconce since you came in of thirty pounds, and before you have any more, my Master in­tends to be satisfyed.

What money have you brother?

Who I? O Lord brother Captaine, I have not the third part of it.

No matter, I nere thinke upon such transitory rec­konings: come, lets have a health, and my brother Lackwit shall beginne it. Reach three Ioynt stooles hither Drawer.

What to doe Captaine?

Ile shew you, you shall ascend here, and be Captaine of this Fort: Ile insconce you; come intrench your selfe, and play from your Battery, and so every man round, there take your Lintstocke in your hand, and give fire, now every man as farre off as he can from the command of his Ordi­nance. Farewell brother.

Why Gentlemen, I hope you will not use me so, [...] your brother, why Gentlemen.

There Drawer, take him for a pawne, tell him when he has no money he must be serv'd so, tis one of his chiefe articles.

How now, what are you preaching ore your cups? Now you are in your Pontificalibus indeed.

Good Crochet helpe me downe, I shall breake my necke else.

How came you there?

I know not, an ill houre of the brotherhood, Ile after them with a vengeance.

You must stay and pay the reckoning first, besides the Musicians expect somthing.

Who I pay the recknoning? 'Slight I came but now in.

That's all one, you were all of a nest, they are flowne away, and there's none left but your selfe.

S'death the Captaine is gone away with my Hat, and my cloake too, I tell thee Ile pay no reckoning.

Tis all one to me, if you can satisfy my Master so.

What shall I doe Crochet?

Give him what you have, and if he will take your word for the rest, Ile excuse your Hat and cloake, and say you lost them in a skirmish; you must scratch your hands in halfe a dosen places with a pin.

I so I will, come sir, Ile goe in and talke with your Master.

Besides, I have another businesse I came to tell you of, that you and I must doe together, you shall reape the whole credite on't your selfe, if you can manage it handsom­ly, 'twill gaine you that reputation with your Father, that you shall never loose your selfe while you live againe.

What is't Crochet?

Goe in and Ile tell you.

Scena II.

You much amaze me.

Scena. III.

Why whats the matter?

You doe but jest sure

Come come, these are but qualmes of jealousie.

Is your Valeria false?

Scena IIII.

Why what if I had sir?

I can coyne them my selfe without any treason I warrant you.

Oh Crotchet, I am thinking now, how brauely ile liue, when my father is dead.

Yes, pray let me heare you.

I haue drawne the map of it already: Ile goe every day in my cloake lind with plush, and my bever hat, Ile keepe my whores, and my running horses, and ile maintaine thee in as good a pyed livery, as the best footman of them all goes in.

You will sir, what ungratious villaine could haue said this? where's your cloake and your hat? yes you shall haue money to spend an other time.

How now what's the matter?

Looke you, doe you know this Gentleman?

How comes this about?

Nothing but the fortune of the warres forsooth: my young master has beene in as stout a fray as ever the Geni­us of Fleetstreet trembled at.

How was it sonne?

Let Crochet relate. I scorne to be the trumpet of mine owne valour, I.

Doe, tell the story, Crochet.

Indeede hee made them all runne away, that I am cer­taine of.

Nay but shew vs the manner of it.

Why forsooth I came at the latter end of the feast, and the beginning of the fray, and there my young Master was got aboue them all, and stood vpon his Guard, and held his weapon in his hand so dreadfully, as it he would haue powred downe his fury vpon any man that should come neere him.

And will you be angry with him for this? 'twas well done, take no wrong of them, better loose all the cloathes off from his backe, then to keepe a cloake for his cowar­dise.

Now is the time to moue the other businesse.

Well mother, if you will giue mee twenty pound more, Ile doe you such a peece of service, that you shall thanke mee for it as long as you live.

What is it sonne?

Nay you shall not know, before it be done: the conclusion shall crowne it.

Well husband, giue it this once, and Ile vrge you no more, lets see how the Boy will imploy it.

Yes, send one arrow after an other and loose both.

Nay, but giue it him for my sake, I am confident he has a good project; you have example for it in your trade. How many haue you, that breake dayly, and yet their freinds set them vp two or three times one after an other?

Once more you shall prevaile with mee. Here hold, but if this miscarry, nore aske mee for a penny againe.

I warrant you, come Crochet.

Must Crochet goe with you?

Yes, tis a businesse that can not be done by one alone▪

Well Mistresse, pray throw an old shooe after vs.

Scena V.

Gentleman you are very welcome. What Hostesse, come hither good Hostesse.

You haue a good handsome Hostesse, I perceiue Captaine.

She is cleanly and good condition' [...] [...]hats my comfort, and by the power of beauty, if a man were combusti [...]le, hee might find in her eyes, that would kindle a conflagration.

What Gentlemen be these Captaine?

Peace good Hostesse, I would not willingly proclaime their disgrace: one of them is a Gentleman, that I bastinado­ed the other day; and now he is come to giue me a Supper, to be reconcil'd to me, but take you no notice.

Captaine here is a friend, that I would willingly com­mend to your acquaintance.

Sir as I am a true souldier, I embrace your loue in him, and thats as much as I can say. Hostesse these are not ordinary guests with you; therefore you must be respectfull: and faith if you say the world Gentlemen, one of these nights, wee'l every man procure as many of our acquaintance as we can, and be merry here at Supper for crownes a peece. What thinke you?

This is not the busines wee come about sir.

I know it well enough. Hostesse, prethee good sweet, honey Hostesse, step and buy us a joynt or two of good meate, and a Capon, and lay it to the fire presently.

Where's the money?

Death to my honour, doe not question it, but doe as I bid you.

I haue not six-pence in the world, the Cobler had all I had, for mending of your boots.

Goe you must make shift, and get more then.

Why if these Gentlemen come to bestow a Supper on you, let them giue me money aforehand.

Speake lower woman, art mad?

I tell you I haue not a penny in the house.

Speake lower I say. Goe borrow it of thy neigh­bours, Ile see it payd.

Yes and turne mee behind the dore for my reckoning; You haue serv'd me so I know not how often, no I haue trust­ed you too much already: you haue not payd me a penny for your lodging, since you came to my house, besides what I haue lent you out of my purse.

Bane to my credit, you will exile mee beyond the confine [...] of [...]eputation: goe pawne some Pewter, or one of thy brasse pots. S'light doe not disgrace mee, doe any thing rather, take the sheets off from my bed.

Yes, you care not what becomes of any thing. Why can you not aske them for money?

S'life, a man may plot till his heart ake, and you still seeke to crosse mee, you will vndoe me in my designes.

You haue more signes in your head, then hang at all the Alehouses in towne againe.

Prethee woman, heare mee what I say. I know they come to spend vpon mee, and will crouch, and doe any thing, yet when I out of my noblenesse, and beyond ex­pectation, shall vse them so curteously, 'twill be such an ingage­ment, that I can borrow ten or twenty peeces of them at my pleasure.

I tell you I can not doe it, nor I will not.

Faith Gentlemen I must entreat you to excuse mee, my Hostesse is not very well shee tells mee, and I thinke shee is not so well stor'd with necessaries to entertaine you, as I could wish; and indeed shee has nere a spitt in the house, therefore wee'l deferr it till to morrow night, when 'twill be more convenient at a Taverne.

Well sir, your excuse shall prevaile, wee are not in­exorable vpon extremity.

In his you haue wonne mee to your observance for ever.

Captaine I haue another thing to propound to you, heere is a friend of mine has lately receiu'd injury from one [Page]Master Carelesse, and vpon debatement of the matter, this Gentleman is so apprehensiue of his disgrace, that he can not possible put it vp with safety of his reputation, and therefore desires to haue it determined in plaine field. Now as hee is in­formed, his adversary accepts of it, and has chosen you for his patron in the quarrell.

By the shine of Phoebus, I wonder what strange im­pudence has possest him. As I am a man to honour, I haue brought him successiuely off from a hundred of these, to the perrill of my life, and yet am dayly obnoxious to new assaults for him.

Then you disclaime to haue any hand in the action.

By the passion of valour, Gentlemen Ile tell you, I loue a noble imployment with my life, but for such a pittifull, drunken, shallow coxcombe, I hate to be seene in such a bu­sinesse.

Doe you thinke no better of him, Captaine? if he be so vnworthy, I would advise you not to meddle with him.

By the faith of a Soldier, if he haue any care of his credit, let him not deale with him, he will but defile himselfe with such an abject: I hold him to be so poore condition'd, I would not enter a Countrey Gentleman vpon him.

Yet you keepe him company, Captaine.

I confesse I haue done, and my intendments were good in it; I saw him so raw, and young, I was induc'd to beleeue there might be some hopes of him: but after much impulsion, when I found him so vnapt, and indocile in his owne nature, I gaue him lost, and so I esteeme of him, by my life.

Oh thou trecherous villaine, dost thou betray mee to my selfe, and belye mee to my face? how many quarrels haue you brought mee off from?

Never none by Ioue.

I will not raile at you, but I will cudgell you, and kicke you, you man of valour.

Hold as thou art a man of renowne, thou wilt strike thy foote into mee else, my body is as tender as a bogg.

Thou cowardly perfidious rascall: haue I for this made thee my associate, payd for thy swaggerings, and brea­king of Tapsters, and Ostlers pates, fed thee at a charge a man might haue built an Hospitall; drencht thee with Sacke, and Tobacco, as thy face can witnesse?

Oh hold as thou art worshipfull.

Come sir surrender your robes, that you haue pollu­ted with cosenage. Here Fido, take this hat and cloake: I will not leaue him a covering for his knavery: these are the trophies of your treachery, these.

Nay good sir doe not pillage mee of all, stay till I get my owne againe.

If Lackwit will restore them he may, else you must re­solue to goe bareheaded before your right worshipfull for­tune, with a truncheon in your hand like a Verger, and so I leaue you. Come Fido now for my Mistresse.

Well, those good qualities that are bred in a man, will never out of him thats my comfort.

Scena. VI.

What doe you intend sir?

You meane about Valeria?

The same.

I heare she is runne mad.

It was my love to her.

And Ile make use of your kind profer sir.

SCENA I.

HOw doe I looke now Crochet?

Very dreadfully: like a Citizen in a fray, as feare full as Priapus in a garden.

Well, and thou art sure there is but one of them, and [Page]he comes disguis'd like Dotario, to steale away my sister?

Yes sir, and this is the old Gentleman himselfe, and somebody has stole away his habite to abuse him.

That man that has done so shall thinke of me and this place as long as he lives for it: Goe and give warning Crochet, that no man withstand me, unlesse he be weary of his life.

If any man be so hardy, let him take his chance.

Let him expect my fury Crochet. I will batter any man that shall come neere me, my fist is like a Sling, my head like a Ram, and my whole body an Engine, and I will make any man toothlesse that shall offend me.

Then you will make his mouth as unserviceable as your fathers gumm'd velvet.

I long to exercise my puissance: thou art sure there is but one of them? stand by a little, and let me flourish with my sword, to animate my spirits; now whatsoever hee is, that comes in my way, I pronounce him to be a miserable mortall.

What hast thou there Crochet.

I imagin'd there would be a great deale of blood spilt in the skirmish, and so I brought these to wipe the wounds, nothing else sir: looke you here they come.

Give by Crochet, till I question them: it behooves a wise man to deal with words, before he descend to blowes: what arrant knight are you sir? and whither doe you travell with that Damosell?

Presse that point home.

O brother Lackwit, how came you so accoutred? or were you set here for a watch-man to guard us?

No sir, I doe not guard, nor regard any man, and yet Ile stand upon my guard, and this is the poynt Ile main­taine.

What doe you meane brother Lackwit?

How, I your brother? No, I scorne to have af­fiance with such a conny-catcher: you sir Nessus, deliver [Page]up your theft, or I will play the Hereules with you.

I am going to marry her, my name is Dotario, and this is your sister Aemilia.

I, she is my sister, but you are a counterfeit, and have stolne her away.

Seize her for fellons goods, she belongs to the Lord of the soyle.

Thou villaine, dost thou not know, if I were dead, and her other sister, she would be next heire, and then thou mightst be hangd for her?

But I had her consent, and her fathers, my name is Dotario your neighbour, that have fed you with custard and apple-pie a hundred times.

I, this Gentleman has, but you have abus'd him, and tooke his wrong name upon you.

I am the same.

He lyes, beat him for lying, what doe you stay for?

I am considering with my eye, which part of him I shall first cut off.

Let's bind him fast, and then lay him upon his backe, and geld him.

A match. Let's lay hold on him; what is he gone? how finely might my father have been cheated, and all wee now, if I had not beene: that's some roguing Servingman disguis'd Ile lay my life on't; if I be not fit to be chronicled for this act of discretion, let the world judge of it. Well Crochet, when I have marryed her to the right party, if my father does not give me forty pounds more, he shall marry the next daughter himselfe.

You must not be too sudden now in the opening of your plot, after you have marryed them.

Advise me good Crochet.

Why before you reveale your proceedings, you shall present your selfe with a great deale of confidence, and pro­mise of desert; walke up and downe, with a joyfull agony, and a trembling joy, as if you had escapt from a breach, or re­deem'd your country: then when you see them sufficiently fill'd with expectation, you may draw the curtaine of your valour, and stound them with admiration.

So I will Crochet, come let us to the Church.

Scena. II.

O doe not say so, she was all my joy.

Peace good Wife, since there is no remedy.

Can he heale mad folkes?

How should one speake with him?

Is this the man?

Suspected, is she no otherwise?

She is starke mad.

It came by love?

Yes sure, what thinke you on't?

As how, good Master Doctour?

I have indeed.

Pray relate some of them.

To satisfy your Ladiship, I will.

Yes good Sir, let us heare them.

Then Ile tell you. There was once an Astrologer brought mad before me, the circulations of the Heavens had turn'd his braines round, he had very strange fits, he would ever be staring, and gazing, and yet his eyes were so weake, they could not looke up without a staffe.

A Iacobs staffe you meane?

I, and hee would watch whole nights, there could not a starre stirre for him, he thought there was no hurt done, but they did it, and that made him look so narrowly to them.

How did you heale him sir?

Onely with two or three sentences out of Picus [Page]Mirandula, in confutation of the act; and as many out of Cor­nelius Agrippa, for the vanity of it.

That was excellent.

The next was a Souldier, and he was very furious; but I quieted him, by getting his arrerages payd, and a Pen­sion for his life.

You tooke a hard taske in hand, M^r Doctour.

But the most dangerous of all was a Puritan Chand­ler, and he ran mad with illuminations, he was very strange­ly possest, and talkt idly, as if he had had a noyse of bells in his head; he thought a man in a Surplesse to be the Ghost of Heresy, and was out of love with his owne members, because they were called Organs.

O monstrous!

I and held very strange positions, for he counted Fa­thers to be as unlawfull in the Church, as Plato did Poets in his Common-wealth, and thereupon grounded his conclusion for the lawfulnesse of whoredome; for he said that marriage, as it is now used, was the only ring-leader of all mischiefe.

How did you heale him sir?

Why Lady with certaine pills of sound doctrine, and they purg'd his ill humours.

That was very speedy.

Then there was a Musician that runne mad with Crochets, the fit was so violent upon him, that he would no­thing but sound perpetually.

How did you with him sir?

I serv'd him as Hercules serv'd his Master Linus, broke his Fiddle about his pate, and sent him away without ere a penny, and that brought his head in tune.

Ile remember this ifaith.

Then there was a Huntsman that was very wood, he would nothing but hoope and hollow, and was wonder­fully in love with an Eccho.

How did you reclaime him?

Why I serv'd him in his owne kind, he had a very handsome wench to his wife, and while he was playing the Cephalus abroad, and courting his Aura, I turn'd him into an Actaeon at home, set a faire paire of hornes on his head, and made him a tame beast.

Husband that was exellent, was it not?

I cured a poet too, and indeede, they are a generati­on that are little better then mad at all times: I was faine to giue him over, because himselfe, and others tooke such delight in his fury. I could not tell what to make of him, his disease was so pretty and conceited, and he was no sooner well, but he would presently fall into a relapse. I could make relation of a thousand such, as Painters, Alchymists and the like, but it would be tedious.

Nay sir, wee are confirm'd of your skill. Will you haue my daughter brought forth to you sir, that you may see her in her fit?

No by no meanes, 'twill spend her spirits too much. Ile take her home with mee, and anoynt her browes with a little Helleborum, and some other receipts that Ile giue her, and Ile warrant you, Ile bring her safe too in three houres, and well recovered.

Sir, you will doe an office, that will not more deserue honour then reward.

Sir, I shall desire nothing but my paines for my satis­faction.

Good sweet Fido conduct him in, and goe along with him, that if any heereafter shall be so averse, in his ignorance, to all goodnesse, as to question this miracle, you may be pro­duc'd as a witnesse.

And what will you doe sweet wife?

Why Ile stay heere, and expect my sonne Lackwit, with his project. He sent mee word he would come present­ly, and see where he enters.

Crochet, bid them stay without, till I call for them. Make roome there, and let such produce there Game, that haue good cardes to shew.

How now sonne Lackwit; whither away so furious?

I am sure all the wit and valour I had, was at stake for it.

Why whats the matter

There was old shuffling and cuting amongst them, and I had not spied their knavery they might haue put a tricke vpon vs, faith.

Why were you at cardes sonne?

No, I was at dice. I came the Caster with some of them I thinke, and I had like to haue made their bones rattle for it. There was a Rooke would haue gone at In and In with my sister, if I had not made a third man, he would haue swept all away, and wiped our noses when he had done.

Tell vs how was it sonne?

No matter how; but if I haue not playd the wise man now, and done an act worthy of applause, let mee bee hist off for my labour.

Letts heare, what is it?

If it be no more thankes worthy, Ile tell you at my leasure, when you haue prepar'd your vnderstanding.

What is it Crochet?

Peace sirrah, Ile haue no man tell it but my selfe, because the prayse of it belongs wholy to mee; and I could but effect halfe a dozen more such exployts, Ide write my owne Commentaries.

You put vs too much into a longing, sonne.

Well I am content to open the sluses of your hap­piness [...]; let them in Crochet, but take heed you be not too gree­dy of it, lest the sodaine joy overwhelme you.

Whats heere, Master Dotario, and my daughter Aemi­lia, hand in hand, & married together? Nay then tis as I would haue it. The boy has done well, and I must applaud him for it.

O must you so sir? Well, there they are Barke and Tree, but as I am a hairy beast, if I had not been, they had been as farre a sunder, as Temple barre and Algate.

How so sonne?

Why Ile shew you. there was an other Changling as like to him in shape, as Iupiter to Amphitrue, nay if I should say, as I am to, let mee see what?

To a foole.

No, to my selfe.

Tis all one.

That would haue married her in his stead, and car­ried her away, if I had not prevented them.

Whether it bee a shadow or a ghost, that haunts him in his owne proper forme, I know not, but there he comes againe.

Why, how now sonne Dotario, you haue made haste to beget one so like you already.

O sir, tis I am cheated, guld, and abus'd, and which is worse, by one that sayes he is my selfe too.

Why what are you?

O sir I am that old Gentleman, that should haue mar­ried your daughter, and there's an Asmodeus, a devill in my habit, that has beguild me of her.

Come sir uncase, your selfe; tis no glory for you to lurke any longer under the person of such a wretch.

Who is here, my Nephew Carelesse? nay then tis ten times worse then I thought of: my disgrace will bee as common as Conduit water, the very Tankard-bearers will mocke at me, I shall be made their laughter at Tavernes, the table talke at Ordinaries.

Nay good Vncle doe not thinke so ill of me, abrace of thousands shall chaine up my tongue, that you may liue as conceal'd as you please.

O sir you haue proved your selfe to bee a fine Com­panion.

Nay hold up your head sir, this was your devise, your master peece of wit, and valour? nay you may bragge of it, the credit belongs to you.

Crotchet I would thou wert a post, that I might beat out my braines against thee.

Saue you Gentlemen.

Looke you sir; here's the Doctor, and your daughter already.

Well there's some comfort yet to make amends for the rest.

Come downe on your knees sir.

How now what are you?

Lately the Doctor, but now your sonne Aurelio.

What more gulleries yet? they haue cosend mee of my daughters, I hope they will cheate me of my wife too: haue you any more of these tricks to shew, ha?

No more sir, if we may obtaine your favour for these, and thinke good sir what loue may doe; you haue beene young your selfe.

Troth and so I haue, and beene as waggish as the best of you. Well Master Dotario, what shall we doe? the boyes haue out stript us, there's now no remedy, and my affection relents.

So does mine too, and I would doe any thing, if I might bee freed of this ignominie, that it might not bee knowne what a foole this loue has made of me.

Ile undertake for that sir if you will yeeld to a motion.

Any thing upon these termes.

Then thus: you are rich, and your Nephew Aurelio here is poore, yet hee was borne to an inheritance; now doe you but conferre something presently upon him, and assure him the rest after your death, and Ile promise they shall ob­serue you with as much obsequiousnesse, as you desire.

And what shall my Nephew Carelesse doe?

Why Master Littlegood shall giue him his Land againe.

If he will doe one, Ile doe the other.

That he shall, Ile see that done upon my word.

Ile not stand against a good motion at any time.

Why then boyes be happy in your Mistresses.

Sir this speech from you is more comfortable then if Hymen had spoke it: and for my brother Lackwit Ile take him to my protection, and stand in his defence against all ma­chinous Engines that shall bee planted for the battery of his wit and fortune.

Pray sir will you get him his cloake and hat againe that he lost in the skirmish.

I so I will; Fido shall restore them to him.

Well I would know, how all these things had come to so good perfection but for me now.

Nay, if fortune should not favour such as you and I are, shee would leaue her old wont.

What's my old Reformado come againe?

Nay you need not feare me now, I am as mild as my beere: I am her husband and your Host till death.

What turn'd Host?

Yes, and I thought it my duety to present you with the first fruits of my profession. Fill out a glasse Tapster, that I may drinke to this good company. Gentlemen you are all welcome.

Is this your Tapster Captaine?

Yes, and does he not suit well with his function? he has learnt already to runne up staires and downe staires, as nimble as a Squirill, and can answer to any man that shall call him, as loud and peremptorily as the best of them.

Thats a good entrance.

He is a little out of countenance at the first, but when you come to my house, you shall heare him speake in a big accent, whats to pay in the Lyon? whats to pay in the Dra­gon? be not dismaid Tapster, be not dismaid.

Well I perceiue we must keepe Holiday: there's no­thing angers me now, but Master Spruse is disappoynted of his Mistresse.

Take no care for that, I haue more Mistresses then I can tell what to doe with.

Sir I haue a sister, though shee had no part in this bu­sines, yet for her beauty, vertues, and Dowry, may well de­serue you: if you can like of her, Ile doe what I can to ob­taine her for you.

Sir you shall command mee in what you please, and my thankes for your loue; and here I vow never to dissem­ble any more in this kind, but to be truely and sincerely affe­ctionated to whom soever you shall commend me.

Nay if you would not doe so, you were unworthy of her.