WHy how now Puss, what ayles my Monkie to chatter out of tune thus?

A whoreson sencelesse Cox­combe— but I am glad th'art come, I long for a pottle of wine and a Capon.

Good provision for the pre­sent Monkie, but viderit futuritas, in the meane time, who layes up for futu­rity? Come you raise foure hundred per annum, out of pottles of Wine and Capons?

Yes my Granado, in this qualitie: they that come short of my breeding have don't. The first credit I wonne was in a Garrison.

In Holland.

No; and yet in the low Countries: I never sate foot in a leaguer yet.

The reason of that?

My hard fate nothing else, having as much impu­dence, and as many wayes to manage it, receiving weekly Corantoes from Paris, Roterdam, and Flushing, and having trade too in Middleborough, I have beene house Lecturer three yeares together, and read Aretine, both in print and picture, and that is much for one of my yeares.

'T may be thou wantst acquaintance.

No such matter, the old Exchange, the new Burse, and new Town, afford plenty; not a Prentice that can cry Bawd, nor a Butchers Dog that can say bow wow, but is of my acquaintance.

Yet it may be they are precise, and will not be seen in't.

That I know not, but most sure, I have feasted the Liberty twice at mine owne charge, and helpt their wives and daughters to the earning of many a fair pound: they will be seen in that.

Well, I am sure I have furnish'd thy Library with all books of behaviour, and tables of entertainment.

And I have cull'd out all my phrases as curiously & stuck my language with such inticing conveniences: and for intellicence, all the lawn women, lace women, box women, and to come nearer to the businesse, very haire women, per­riwig women, and candied Elicumpany lick halbars, come in twice a week like decoy Ducks, with whole sholes at the [...]aile of them.

Why, then there's a fault in your company.

I, I, that villanous company undoes all, Ther's Lo­dowick Tomaso Vallentine, high talkers, and deepe drinkers, but they have wit in their wine, and too much honesty in their actions at all time, there's only on Gentleman—

Stultissimo of a plain cut and square size, he runs just as you throw him; rub him a little against the grain now, and he will come off a great deal the smoother. You would not thinke, what charitable benefactours three or foure such plush Colonels would be to the founding of a new ho­nour.

But hast thou such a purpose, indeed?

Why should not I have purpose and effect as much as any: A leager, yes, so it lay in the Ile of plentie; Ide dig through the Alpes with Haniball, and fetch Theseus from Hell, with Hercules purpose and practice, my precious Monkie, tis done.

And shall I come to the honour to write Mistris of the Leaguer.

Shall not bate an accent of that title my Catampti­all Monky, but you must look out for Spiders Monky, and the Sprall of all foure Puzz: I have laid the foundation in gold already.

Hast had a good return of thy Rings chuck?

Rings hangum, they are as stale as Scotch Lanson, Or as your Decoy,

No, I have sent um out in a desperat venture to Cape.

No Monkie, my old friend Franciscus hath repaired my Jacket already, & has promised to new thatch my outside too.

One of these boxes has 100 pieces of new gold,

With chains and keyes correspondent.

For what use Chick?

For a dead lift Monkie: a Leaguer cannot be plan­ted, mann'd, victuall'd and munition'd with a small Maga­zine: to work Monkie, a mouzing Puss, make choice of your company, admit no parley with the popular, be high and proud of thy selfe, and let those that will needs buy thee, pay soundly for thee with a pox to um, Puss a wink to the wise, you know my minde, let's have no more midnight catter­wowlings under Sale-mens shop windows, Vintners dark cellers, no Justices long Entries, but beare up your selfe so civill and so meager▪

[Page] You may be stilde a sister of the Leaguer.

Away you Rogue.

As I am a Gentleman body and soule Ile break your windowes.

Master, as you are a man stand and tickle her.

Will you, you Rascall.

Ah, sweet heart, prethee good woman.

Nay, let her come Ile give her hert belly full.

Let her alone Fub: let her alone, by this hand, Ile make the boyes maule her Ruffs.

Fie how I am tyred a whorson stinking shamleg'd, Fie, fie, fie, use a Gentlewoman thus in her own lodging.

How does your back, O the Fucas, out alas, here's half a Crown in Complexion utterly cast away.

If I be not even with the Rutter—

If hee come where you have to doe, let him pay soundly.

A plague upon his Asses eares, by my Virginity, Ile send his beard into New-found-land for this.

And so I would, to make lines to catch Cods: out, out, out, a Gentleman, and use a woman no otherwise; yfaith, yfath, it stands not with his reputation.

A whorson smelt: Mistris Durable, I would I had some of your aqua vitae, I'me sick after the conflict.

And shall good woman, come, come, pray keep your self warme.

Forsake me honour, when I doe forget the bond of friendship, let not poverty, no, nor your fathers haviour Julio: though our Venetian law proved him a Traitor: come [Page] plucke away your interest from my breast: when we were pupills in the Academy, I was Franciscus and your fellow then; I am Franciscus and your fellow still, nor can be alte­red: I have now a heart as free from pride, as when I clipt thee thus, before thou knew'st the taste of poverty, or I pros­perity. Thinke not ancient friend I can forget thee, though thy need were such as beggery despis'd.

The liberall hand of heaven reward your love, or lend my wishes that ability to thank you in requitall.

Amen to that and more.

I tell thee Iulio, I am not happier in my vertuous wife: and yet that's greater than yielding thee reliefe tis all that good men wish: Why have we wealth bestow'd on us, but to re­turne the same, where stern necessity pinches the ribs of him or her that wants? it has no other worth, no more esteeme of me. Heap it together while the, massie weight e'ne crack, what bears it lesse than dust? on dust deserves no more re­gard. I have a Wife, Nurse, and mother, all she is in one; yet one deserves more Titles, besides her feature, which may make compare with those that boast of parts: she is so kinde, that many millions may be stampt againe, ere one so perfect currant. She is worth more than the earth is: but she is my wife, and I will cease her praise: you know her father when you have his name: hee is called Chrisippus, many stile him good, and wish all Venice such.

Ere I was banish'd for my fathers fact, my know­ledge coated, and all Italy, spoke of a Damosell called Cor­nelia, this good Chrisippus daughter.

She is that jewell, that unmatched, thing I made my boast of: That Cornelia is none but mine, I dare boldly say, and eke affirme it: See my Julio, she meets us unexpec­ted, and comes to hinder what I would speake more, in cause of her demerit, modesty, and sweetnesse.

Franciscus: sonne!

You have bin mist Franciscus.

You have beene mist Cornelia.

Where?

Where ere I have bin, this is my friend, tender him your welcome with as good respects as I my selfe where he.

Sir, bid your own welcome, and command as much as all we have, were yours.

Your courtesies to one so throng'd in misery As my selfe, dulls my behaviour, that I know not how Enough to laud or thanke you.

You shall exchange your habit:

Phemone, sister, Anthonio—

We mist you yester night.

He spoyld our sport: he was not well he said:

I would you had beene there: Tomaso pledg'd you twice.

I thank his love.

It is not worth it Sir.

Yfaith Nephew I was extream drunke, aske my man Fub else, he'le tell you what a coyle he had with me: the ra­rest lest yfaith: prethee tell 'em how thou foundst me under­neath the staires.

By no meanes, 'twill make 'em drunk to heare it.

Signior Arbaces you are the man I wisht for.

Well met Gentlemen: are you here Antonio?

Cornelia.

Sir.

Ever, ever welcome.

Will you walk sir? will you munch?

Sirrah Fub, thou wouldst not think how sore my head is, ever since I had the knock with the Ladle?

I believe you: will you feed sir?

No more i'th' Ladle. Me thinkes I am pocky me­lancholy here of late.

So I ghest, ever since you knew the Gentlewoman that beate you.

Thou sayest true, ever since yfaith.

Why she is able to make any body pocky melan­choly. But would you would snap a bit sir.

I love her I cannot tell how: yfaith and I were well search'd, I think I am little kin to a Spannell, the more I am beaten, the better I affect.

Would I were sure of that.

Well, she shall heare from me in some Sonnet or Ditty; some rare thing of mine owne invention, and that speedily: Let me see to what tune shall I have it?

And if you please, let it goe to the Punkes delight; 'tis your onely sweet tune: for women doe love the Punks delight.

By this hand gramercy; they doe indeed, thou canst sing if need be.

I can make a scurvy shift: But to say truth I am no good Querister.

But canst thou doe well and scurvily?

After my manner.

Would I might be hang'd presently, but methinkes I am a piece of a Poet already, there's such a whistling in my pate.

That's nothing but your conceit sir.

Conceit merrily: O that my love were any thing but woman.

O that your love were any thing but Common: then might she be.—

What might she be.

Nay what you wil yfaith.

Ile to't while tis hot, I know I'me in an excellent vein.

Pricke it quickly then:

But Harke you Signior, shall you not need my helpe?

I defie't, It shall be all mine own, I cannot abide, tis the scurviest thing to rob others of their wit, good or bad, it shall flow from mine own sweet brain.

I believe youle finde the tyde turn'd, tis ebbing wa­ter there, would I might be begg'd, as hee had like to have been, if his foolery do not vex my discretion, but hee gives me means, and I could do little if I could not smile.

Well Vallentius, and you be caught ith' purlues: and you be not stung for't Ile forsweare privacie, and all that belongs too [...], I have a Girle, the very spirit of what she was made for, and she were honest, she might crave supremacie of Hellen, and make her ride behinde.

And I love one were she not honest, that's her only fault, shee were a Paragon unparalleld, mingle all beautie that our Venice yields, and set her self aside, she would stand peerlesse, over-shine them all, and dimme the Artists cun­ning.

Is she a woman?

Yes, but such a one no voluntary habit, nor slie drift with all accommodations that beseemes, unblemisht truth it selfe can bring to speech or give my thoughts ac­cesse.

What is she for a Saint, that stands in the how faire and beautifull: may one of my birth intreat her name and knowledge?

Vow your assistance to my purposes, and I a Traitour to my selfe reveale the treason of my minde.

Give me your hand, I am yours for better or worse, in all causes, all adventures, my sword and selfe vow fealty: Is she a wife?

I, would she were not.

Know you Vanderman our great Physician.

What, my fretfull Doctour? the only curer of mad folks; [Page] Know I my selfe?

You know hee's married.

Yes, and what of this (oh would you be ministring therein.) I have you my deare Flora, well take my word shee's thine.

I would that I were hers.

Why it lyes in thine own choice.

But setting all this pleasantnesse aside, in earnest Lo­dowick I affect her so, no motive mean nor yet dire accident can change my stedfast will, I must enjoy her, or I must not live.

Thou shalt enjoy her, or I will not live.

You speak like a friend.

I speak like what I am, a Christian, and by that Epe­thite, I meant as much as I speake, nor could I thinke, Val­lentius, you of all the men alive, would have mistaken mee.

In any kinde but this I never had: pardon me Lodo­wick this doting loves beares such a jealous sway, the least suspition puts us on the wracke, and breaks all chaines of duty: You may perswade me to believe, but yet he that never saw a Vessell under sayle, cannot imagine what the Seaman brooks, the Merchant sleeping on his downey Cowch, nere dreams what danger the bold Souldie [...]r dures, and he that never felt the pangs of Hell, cannot report the torments: assure thee Lodowick so be satisfied, since I knew her, I have not known my selfe, so mighty is loves extreams.

Tis strange.

She troth plight was to me, and had been mine, had not desire of pelfe alter'd her friends, and I dare well vow she loved me once, what ere her minde be now.

Come be rul'd by mee, thou shalt set thy toe in the Doctors stirrop, ride and go a foot at thy pleasure: did shee love thee once?

I had her oath.

Go to, renew thy suite, the fire is not all out, stir up [Page] the ashes, and thou dost not finde some embers, that will both glow and warme, pawn me for butter'd Sack, and let me ne­ver be worthy redemption.

I want the means.

Think not of that, tis here my Flora, what man? he's not the first Doctor has worn a corner Cap: come, will you be merry Vallentius, and youle forsake not this mood, I renounce society.

I am yours, obedient as your hand.

Follow me then, and I drive not this melancholly fit out of thee, Ile never trust my conceit: what, ho Dama­zella? Knocks, and Clarislona looks out at the window.

Whose there?

He's here that should be here, come down?

Lodowick.

Yes.

What's she.

The commodity I told you of, there's a Gentleman a friend of yours in love with her.

Not your selfe.

No faith, though you shall heare her sweare as much, tis our rich heire Signior Stultissimo.

What, the Foole?

That mor sell of mans flesh, shee cannot beat him a­way, he haunts the Eves like a Sparrow in March, you may hunt flies from honey sooner then him out of her company: now Mistris how stands things with you, when did you play with your fools bable?

Youle never leave this.

Bid my friend welcome.

I thank you Lady.

Come kisse me?

Will you stay all night?

Yes, when I am weary of strength, and foes with my back.

Yfaith Lodowick, you must leave this?

So I will▪

When?

When thou leav'st thy trade?

Will you sup here?

Yes drink, nothing else.

Lord, how wise your grown?

So I were, if I could keep out of your company.

Fie, your'e to uncourteous Lodwick: nay, he's ever thus, but tis my fault.

Marry mend it then for shame.

Where's my Bracelet, which of your Truls has that?

Shall I be true to thee?

Your'e nere true to me.

I mean honest.

I care not for your honesty.

I believe that too, but in plain verity. Your bracelet embraces my horses main.

Come, you jest.

No good troth.

Sweare you, I hope you make a difference between your horse and me.

Faith but little: and yet your'e both good bearers.

By the bright Sun you wrong her: weepe not faire one.

What, shall we have tricks?

You are too blame beshrow me.

Now, when, what needs all this, nay, and you powt farewell.

As I am a Gentleman you part not so.

Sweet, Lodwick.

Hum, why was not this before, I have seene the Beares.

Do not I know your woman?

Hist, hist, Are you the man of War?

Nay, you must draw neerer, if youle have your Em­bassie answered: how ist Mistris Durable?

How do you Master Lodowick?

The worse for you, and your creatures.

It's a good hearing.

Shall I have three or foure words in private?

Not with her unlesse I participate.

Whats the matter?

Yonder's Fub, the parties man you wot on has somthing under hand and seale.

For me.

So he gives out.

You may admit him.

Rest you merry Gentlemen.

Whose this secret party, this conceal'd Champion▪ What have ye here, Signior Stuliissimoes man?

All haile.

This fellow would keep a vilde coyle if hee were a top ath' tiles.

Gentiles, good speed.

What, the Plough?

No, you, and you please, Marona to your self.

This fellows discreet.

To me.

So sayes his backside.

You the man of War, or more properly Pirat, that gave summons to the leaguer.

Leager, Sir.

Leager, Sir, the report of your Pot-guns cannot make us hang up a white flag.

The skirt of a clean smock's more proper ath' two.

Wee come not to learne whats proper of you, Monkie, and catch flies.

Play at his foolery, come hither Punck.

Sir, y'are uncivill, she's none; nor this a Bawdy house; but a Leaguer of gentle entertainment.

The fellow dreames: Come wake and be thy selfe.

My selfe? Would you were as sure your selves as I am.

A what?

Question that dares, th'art an arrant Cheater.

Tis not your pare royall of plush Coxecombes can secure you in't.

Valiant a the suddaine too.

Thou hast nothing but a little wit to live upon.

Suppose this granted: yet why this a Leaguer?

I want words for you: onely for conclusion, one out of a strange affected carriage has gathered an admirable me­thod of drilling, and training men from the flying of Cranes: Another rare order and government of Common-wealths, from the poore labour of the Bee: And I out of this Leaguer—

Will extract certaine wayes and carriages for Chea­ters and Libertines.

Twere not from my purpose if I granted that to. Ly­curgus was the first Law-maker; and the best Law that ever he made, was a provision or maintenance for Cheats, as you call em, and Fellons (viz.) That he (without exception of [Page] age, quality, or condition) which could doe the most high dainty, and dangerous peece of Felony, and come cleare off, should be preferred to the most eminent place of office in the State; but if he failed, he was then to receive Martiall Law.

Strange course, pick Officers out of Fellons.

'Tis a kind of Meslin or mingled graine still. How much of the poores money was found in one of the Churchwardens purchase last day?

None I thinke.

How many theeves horses have bin watered at the High Constable of the hundreds watring trough within this tenne yeares?

I think not any.

It may be so: But I am sure, I have heard, or read▪ or something, that a new Chiefe Justice of some place, or a bet­ter man wo'd not ha made very nice to bid a fat purse to breakfast with him if he light upon it soundly: so that it is not so much the Art to know, as the government to dispose: that quallifies the man.

He sayes true: all times ha' bin guilty of good fel­lowship, why not this? I like the Leaguer now so well, I care not if I buy a place of command in it my selfe.

To the Society at the Swan two pottles and a halfe: Monkey the health; these are my noble & prime visi tants; the boxes I gave you to lay up.

How now Iulio, gold?

By this light, and the most curious.

A poore Grannams gift gentlemen: 300 peeces, or such a taste, par [...]ly induction to a businesse, or so. There's a [Page] Burdeaux Merchant in Towne now, would lay me between wind and water this twelve month, but the spite is, I am tyed not to part with this gold for ever: if I knew where to borrow but halfe the worth on't—

You shall keepe the gold under locke and key for your pawne.

Thou shalt not want for such a courtesie to doe thee good: Ime glad th'art so thriving.

Lock up the boxe, and keep the key; there's the full summe.

To a Piece I assure you: you shall see else agen.

Assure thee sweet chuck he'le not faile thee.

Gentlemen, who can read?

Who cannot?

O deare Apollo, how art thou abus'd, Is there more?

Asse, Asse.

The Authours name.

Cannot you get her Signior Stultissimo?

O, lamentable complaint!

As ever poore man heard.

Will he take no warning.

Is this a Challenge?

Fie no, they are too violent to come in rime.

Lodowick, is not this your practice?

Why, dost thou think me so simple, so ridiculous.

No, Ile assure you, It's a token of good will of my Masters, there's no brain guilty ont but his own: if you like it you may, and you will not, the laws in your own hands, you may choose.

Good Gentlemen return the Carrier.

What? a cuffe or a knock.

Hee has penn'd a Song too, which I should have tickled, if I had not been hoarse with drinking Flap-Dra­gons last night.

Whats thy name?

Fub.

Prethee honest Fub, tickle thy selfe out of our com­panies, weele be Fubb'd no longer.

Will not you be Fubb'd Sir.

Thou knowest my resolution.

Nay, but will ye not indeed?

No faith▪

I am glad I know't,—be with you.

Have you any wine ith' house?

Yes dearest.

Come, a pox a these devices, hang off: will you drink Vallentius?

Will I live?

Where's the Matron?

The Matron, Lord, you're the strangest man.—

Your Matron Grandum, what will you have it, your Bawd?

I must be quiet.

Nay, enter, enter.

The easie time, and such as thrive in it, favour my wishes, the ignorant whose sole dependance is on veritie, and carry conscience in their timorous brests, are not asso­ciates meet for Iulio. Those that neere knew the straine of Policie, nor ayme at more, then what may well content, draw not my length, the way to prosper, the directest course such are my sore necessities, is to get liking of this lovely Maid Franciscus sister, bright Phemone, the Virgin's mo­dest, chast, and debonaire, besides her brother's rich, there hang my hopes, but shee affects not mee, all her desires are on young Anthonios, rich Arbaces sonne, my friend (suppos'd) at least, but that is breath; by what man has, or can have, he's my foe that hinders my designe, where hee my next of bloud, that shall he finde: the meane to purchase what I reach at now, there is but only one, one only meane that can supplant him, here it lies shall doo't, were hee as deare in estimation as Nisus to Eurialus.

THou hast to say somthing, yet nothing I hope triviall, by our known affection I beseech thee, speak what thou canst.

I would I had embraced my povertie, while the pale Moone has residence in heaven, would I had beene deafe.

Whereto tends this speech if I thought my fault, or any ones pertain'd to mee, through wilfull negligence, or otherwise, to breed the occasion of this passionate mood, I should condemne the cause of the offence, and deeme my self unhappy.

Can heaven suffer it?

What, what does heaven suffer, speak my Iulio?

Too much of ill.

Let me know that ill, and I rest satisfied.

Pray no more, the malady is mortall, unsanctified, monstrous. Anthonio is there such a man?

Many that weare that name in Italy: but one a­mongst that many known to me.

Hate all the name.

Pardon Iulio, Ile hate my selfe first.

Anthonio is a Villain.

Blot not the reputation of his youth with such [Page] calumnie, he is no way such, but as unblemisht, as the snow before it touch the Mountains.

He's a Villain.

Villain never had so faire an out-side, nor yet heart so just as that he carries.

He's a Villain.

I have some businesse at the Port, youle sup with me to night.

Doe you love your selfe, do you love honour, do you love your wife?

I do.

Then hate that Anthonio.

Give me to understand, since you will force me to endure your report, wherein hee's culpable, or does deserve these ignominious titles.

He loves not you.

Tis not my fault.

He wrongs your sister.

Therein, he's too blame.

He loves your wife.

That amends, quits all his former wrongs.

How's this?

You will not understand; Ile speak no further.

Come, come, my wife is honest.

Yes.

If she be, tis nothing you have said, Ile heare no more; begon.

Will you list a word, Anthonio wongs you.

Wrong me, and if he would he cannot.

He playes the Parasite, the officious Asse to vaile his sinne.

Would I might understand you?

The Serpent tempts your wife, these eares and eyes can testifie; for your sister, she's stale: his excuse, whereby hee cloakes his vice.

I wish you Iulio, to know what you speak.

I am not mad, I love you, tis my love, you are my fa­ther.

I pray be advised, consider what you do? speak not this no report, be certain; do not abuse my patience. Tempt my wife, rent earth, and swallow falshood.

Will you be moved Pernassus, the two topt, forked Mount?

My bloud is not mine own, I want command of all that now obeyed me, how different are my fits? I am now a congealed, kneaded cake of ice, bound from all motion, now again (mee thinks) a flaming Iland, a Vesunius Hill, meerly combustion.

Forget not, sir, your patience.

Tell me of patience when I am my selfe: how did he tempt her, how did she accord on thy reputation?

I would I had been dumbe?

Hang not ith' winde, (delay does torture) answer me as how?

Kinde, sir, recall your wonted manhood?

Answer me how.

I pray pardon me.

What? strike and cry mercie, I must be resolved, thou hast flung me ith' fire, even in the Oven, the mouth of Aetna, nothing thou coulst have said, nothing have done, could have assured like torture.

Would, when I saw him kisse her, crush her hand, wink and laugh out, use his undecent language: Fie, fie.

Cornelia false, the floud may come agen, nothing impossible, kisse, and crush hands, wink, wink heaven and all above.

Kind, sir.

Beare witnesse, all that good are, how deare, how deare, I held that most false man: set him here, here, even on the spire and pinacle of my heart; my life was his, and all that I call mine, but her he has abused?

Deare friend, do not forget your name, these are but likelihoods, farre from the thing it selfe, and say he be a Vil­laine, [Page] as no doubt he's little better in his rude exposures: she may be honest.

I have stroke him through.

Nay gentle friend.

I thanke the Muses, I have as sharpe a conceite of mine owne when I list.

Sir I take you to be a great devourer of Verjuyce.

Now and then; but 'tis not altogether that; every one has his gift.

Tis so.

Some has two or three.

You say true Signior, some has twenty: for which they may thanke impudency and the art of begging.

The art of begging: pray you how long has begging beene an art?

Ever since in rid in a foote-cloath, and wore the badge of authority.

How long's that agoe?

Ever since you Grannams daughter had a Calfe of your age.

Is't possible?

Yes, and will continue till hee's a Bull and horne mad.

Most miraculous: would I were mercinary, and had no more in me than an ordinary man: Signior, I crye you mercy. How doe you since you powred the pottle of wine in my neck, and threw the pot at my head, because I would not pay my part o'th shot?

Was there such a time?

Was there? Why have you forgot how you kickt me, and I crept under the Table: Ile be sworne this Hip's as lame ever since, as if I had the Cyatica.

Absurd and grosse.

We must leave you Signior.

I thanke you with all my heart: I am going to the foresaid place: here's my servant Fub can tell you if I lye in my throat.

I will assure you he's wandring to Pusse, or as a man would say, to deale with Mistris Clariflora.

Yes faith am I: she beat me tother day, and I am now going to make her amends. I thinke I endure more beating than any three in Venice.

Than a Stock-fish.

'Tis a signe you are offensive.

So they say that do't. Yester night a scurvy boy did so joule my head and the wall together, for holding o­pinion that Cheese was unwholsome.

No more good Signior: farewell.

Why, hope you to gaine her thus with a mad fit: marke the event, this is a course as wide: Are you so simple to imagine, she a timerous woman, will endure your pre­sence, seeming possest? for shame believe it not, invent some other meanes.

Good gallants doe not ride me, lest I gall you: Ile assure you I trot hard: why my brace of conceits, my wits; what does your abundance of wit runne at waste: for shame, have you so poore a braine, and you my most exquisite ex­cellent, [Page] for shame take off your spectacles and see better: are you such a dunce: are you so rare a Coxcombe, to deeme I will appeare alwaies the same: are you the men you promist? will you be Masters of your words and oaths, tender your vow'd assistances?

Continue so: what shall redound upon this adven­ture, falls upon my head, be it no shame to yours: onely pre­ferment and your smooth apologies.

Tut, I have play'd Ajax, and perform'd the part wel, to make boast of imitation, better than he that Lucian writes of, who so digested what he plaid, that he run mad indeed.

Mistrust not my behaviour, and if it prove not cor­respondent to my word, thinke me an idle vanter, and no meet associate for you.

What else, what else? Remember gentlemen you fall not upon the scandall of Ignorance: but in any case keep your countenances.

Do you thirst for bloud? if so, and mine, hide to the hilts your naked instrument, my bosome is your mark: thrust home and take your fill.

That dying tune, was sure a mans, where art thou friend, speak thou that cryd'st for help, if thou wouldst have thy wish, speak once again: where art thou?

His utterance is decayed, and life begins to creep out of his wounds: let me see, so many, and so mortall! can I but stay the course I wish no more: have I nothing left, to stay this passage: well, yet still hee breathes, that I had here some help. Thy aid Omnipotent, yet his pulses beat, life is not quite discharged,—no succour! keep he but mo­tion, till I can beare him to my Cell, I doubt not, his re­covery: this winde, this winde, that my Balmes were here: for my youthfull dayes heaven lend ability.

Even in the pride, and noon time of his fortunes, brought to destruction thus: a milder, better tempered Gen­tleman, Venice nor Europe yielded; his knowledge made me proude, and I was rich in his adoption.

My sonne, my sonne, so noble, valiant, wise, dearer to me then him I call mine owne by true succession, doe you weep?

I am not blest, all things doe sort contrary; 'twill not do, my projects thrive not, would I had been silent, wee know the first, but not the last, I begin to perceive our poli­cies of times whets the Axe, cuts off our own necks; I have and one my selfe, that it should come to this, wee seeke to mend so long, that we marre all: for mine own part, would I could have been content: but who would have dreamt the course would have proved so violent: well this I am sure on, I may starve ere I get such another friend.

Sister, if it be true, as so the rumour goes, you have playd false, and wronged your dearest friend: you are not worthy such another man, you sole Queene of Africk; had you to live as many ample yeares as our first fathers, or their ages thrice: you might spend all those tedious houses twice told, ere you finde a Mate so worthy, were you equivalent, in birth and beauty, and had no paralell: Neptunes gems to boot, you want worth and excellencie both, to weigh down his demerit; Vertue and Honour stampt him for their own, at his first being, and the Graces strove to increase his pleni­tude. More perfection then he has, hee needs not, where ere he's betook.

THink you it so?

Yes, and verily believe't.

Tis strangly carried.

Never worse, my Friend's undone.

I, a mischiefe and a vengeance oth' cause, by this sword, nay, feare not man, I am not angry, and I could not judge, well, I say no more: but if hee did not walke on [Page] Stilts, I do detest eating and drinking, and those are two ne­cessaries, a man can hardly live well without them.

If I could not have wept when I beheld her, and that was more then I did at the death of my father, I have no be­liefe in me.

Not as the wench left the Frenchman in the suds, there's neither mettle nor society in thee; if thou abando­n'st my company, till we have visited Valentius.

Did he not act the madman to the life, was't not wel? could ever a Dunsticall Doctor in this Towne, have pickt falshood out of his behaviour: he was so mutable, so full of varying tricks (me thinks) I see him yet.

Defer your visitation till to morrow, or late some­time to night: I am yet unfit, this sudden trouble has made me not my selfe.

What, eschew acquaintanceship? forget, After my most hearty commendations, my very trusty friend, 'Twere sin and shame Tomaso.

This time, sometime, other times, and all times, this day, yesterstay, tother day, and every day; no houre amisse, march on, march on.

I could launch my Dagger through my side, at one easie throw: begger my friend; subvert mine owne estate, and undo her, by whom I hope to climbe, accursed, brainles slave: could the damn'd Devill with all his fire-brands, beat into my pate no sounder subtilty. I had, I had reliefe, Foole [Page] vaunt of that?▪ boast what thou hadst? or might have? tis past, 'tis gone, my villaine selfe, confounded has my selfe, and him that did sustaine me:

It must not be denyed, Ile maintaine't before the Synod, here's my witnesse: was't not well done of brave Caligula to make his horse a Senator? deny't, deny't, would not a good horse shew well among a teame of Asses: ha, what thinke you: give me another sword: O noble Hector, looke, Achilles flyes, and bloody Pyrrhus shrinkes.

Will Pluto keep his word, shall all extortioners, en­grocers, usurers, be finely damn'd, of what kind soe're? will he spare none?

Let me see, let me see, the sonne of Panace, a sprightly Lad; Hercules, a lusty youth, a very lusty youth; Sampson, a tall young man, a very tall young man.

Why greatest generalls, that command whole Legi­ons, and traine, and keepe in order every man, cannot keepe in a woman.

That's an easie question, because most of them get Follies wings, and grow so light there's no ho with them: they must flye out.

That bloody villaine: Treason gentlemen, call up a Guard, the traytor's discovered: binde him sure, sure: are you tooke napping sirrah: Downe with him, downe with him, downe.

Past, past cure, I doubt. Give me leave, I finde by [Page] my Art 'tis no Vertiga, no whirling, but a meere setled frenzy: Nay I pray you give me leave: for as both Hypocra­tes, and Gallen, Avicen, Podalirius, Rucis, Cornelius, Celsus, Corannus, Augustino, and Rombart, doe you conceive mee? besides a dozen or two of English-men, most learned and worthy physitians (if I knew what they were) have demon­strated paraphrastically, both it and the cause, styling the malady the digestion of the braine, or Irrevocabilis ignis, the irrevocable fire: Nay, will you understand me?

Not altogether mad, though I confesse I have beene prickt with the thornes of Love: I have beene over shooes in my dayes.

Yes marry shall you: I would desire you to helpe me to a pill, or a potion that could make one honest, that I doubt is a little gone astray.

Nay, I pray you be quiet, for though I have endu­red many hard words at your hands, I shall hardly brooke blowes.

Good gentlemen give me leave to laugh: ha, ha, ha, the Doctors wife, and the Mad-man: the mad-man, and the Doctors wife.

Is that it, for the thing you spake on, you shall not be beholding to the scald peremptory Doctor: Come to my Chamber anon, and Ile give you a powder shall fulfill your request, as well as all the potions or Pills he can devise.

Receive my adorations Queene of chance, Thou never gav'st that jewell to that man, was halfe so wel esteem'd; my hopes have their desires, Phemone, blest suc­cesse; nothing that's amisse, but I shall understand: disguise I thanke thee, joy ties up my tongue, and will not let mee speake; they part not soone.

So neare marrying Clariflora, and not acquaint your friend? yfaith I thought Mistris you would have let me understood what had past.

Pardon me, Ile not sit next this lousie fellow: gen­tlemen, what doe you with this poore rogue in your compa­nies? Does he come to make mirth, can hee play the foole wittingly?

A whorson Tatred-demallion, come amongst Gen­tlemen of sort. What, is't no more but up and ride? How now Fub, is he vanisht?

The Leaguer, where but a'th' new Leaguer: there's [Page] generous entertainment for Gallants of sort at all times: and for entrance trust me my mates.

No matter, we can squeeze some more out thus: we can wake the Constable, trouble the neighbours, disquiet the Master and whole family, spill his Wine, puffe his To­bacco, foule his roomes, practise who shall breake most holes, and cleanliest, in the bottome of quart-pots, with a piece of a Tobacco-pipe: cry good morrow mine Host, we ha' made a madde night on't I vow, and so trance; wee are no Gallants and we cannot doe this.

I ever said, it might come in a night, that came not in an age, Et ecce noctem faelicem; see, that joviall night is come: They have beene playing high, and potting deepe: Lights, Wine, and more stooles for these Gentlemen; wel­come.

Assure's this the night before to morrow, I have brought in my Estate a matter of 400 pound per annum, in Deeds, Leases, Fee-simple, and Coppy-hold already: and that's no simple Estate youle say: I meane to bid you welcome to a Leaguer of mine own shortly Gentlemen; some wine you Scondrils.

What's this Leaguer raysed yet, Par la ho boy, I thought we should have had a second siege of Troy on't, is their Reckoning paid? not a penny, they call'd for one, but in such a drunken key; I bad em sleep upon't, and I would tell em more on't when they were sober.

Nine and six pence, Sir, allowance for lights, lin­nen, coals to light faggots: and six pence for one journymans sleep only deducted, and yet they grumbled too.

The reckoning but nine and six pence, how poorely this shews, in a Leaguer too, and friends that pretended me a courtesie too? How many joynts of meat to supper?

Step down, and see, nine and six pence, they must and shall heare more of this: we may go beg, or buy up all the, refuse, broken bread and meat, scraps, offall, and garbage that Cooks shops, Shambles, Ordinaries, Entries, and Rich­mens dores afford; nine and six pence, if they do not heare more of this—

For poore prisoners? as fit for my purpose, as a Con­ny for a Pursnet; here, take mony, buy his provision by the lumpe: if I had studied for a fortune to fall upon me, I could not have had a fairer.

No, my sweet Monkie, I have further aymes then so, this broken meat and baggage offall, will I strew in my Kit­chin, Dressers, Hall, Entries, and every doore and draw­window, and perspicous places about the house: foule all the vessell, three or foure times over, all to besmeere the rustie spits and dripping-pans; breake all my broken glasses, beat the bottom out of my Cans: beat all my foul Tobacco-pipes, into fractions

Perlahay, My friends shall heare more of that in the reckoning: My sweet Monkie, when the Drunkards shall wake, and see all these ruines, or rather remayns of a plenti­full Leager: Oh, hast thou no apprehension? Why, I tell thee, they cannot choose out of their generous bounties, but see all discharg'd?

Oh, the Leager begins to rise! Come Monkie a few directions for you in private, give you attendance on the Leager; let em call for what they will, and want nothing they call for: only I will tell em no more of nine and sixe pence in the reckoning.

Monkie, you shall heare more of that anon, when they are sober? why Drawer, Dog, Dunghil-raker; is the Leaguer dry? By and by, a cup of six into the low Leaguer, there.

You Rascall, who takes away here? here's a house bestrewed with garbage and offall, as if the great Inquest had been feasted, &c.

Prethee knock us not down, afore our time; was this certain feast of our making? what a spoyle of Poultery has here been? Tom [...]so, I must be beholding to thee for this or­dinary.

And you love me, let me have the credit at this time there's: ten pounds, give me the rest again (ah, wee had the bravest Marchpane, and Sugar-candy Custard) or do not, let it run on towards fouling of linnen, and paying for sawee: the rest agen, or do—

I do not think but you are sawst pretty well alrea­dy, for the Devill a bit of meat saw I, and yet all these scraps could not come of nothing.

Ha, do you remember that night, Ancient Thumps health overthrew mee, my Master goes out of Towne next weeke; yfaith and youle come, there's halfe a dozen good boys, weele be swingeing merry, will give him a crash, old Will, Will be here?

Ha, ha, hum.

Yes faith, and thank you too, what Rogue's he that turns the Room round? shall we not quench our thirsts be­fore we part?

Good enough for a property, he will serve my turn, as well as a better, I shall but use his name: do you think I would marry the Coxcombe, but only for colour and feare of the Law? I'de see him bak'd first.

What's here, I prethee marke Tomaso: Lodwick, I have my desire: fetch mee off speedily, lest I cure the Do­ctour? yours Vallentius, lest I cure the Doctour.

I Speak't in thunder once again, no more: thou Babylo­nian Strumpet, in thunder I command thee thou lump of sinne, no more.

I rore it in thy eares, once more aloud, no more: cannot I deale, but you must be applying, you must be tam­pering, you must minister: have you not Pils for Potions? do you not traffique? do not you exchange Merchant?

I have heard and seen too much, has hee not paid you soundly for your pains: no, has he popt you.

You are deceiv'd.

Dainty fine y faith, very dainty. Whore thou hast made me monstrous, and I may challenge Gyants: Yes, he shall be your mad-man; Doe you not like his fits, doe you not, doe you not?

I shall rejoyce to see him what hee was, and Master of that temper he commanded, when he did dare the vaunting Ba­jeset for taxing his beliefe.

What, shall we have a Pamphlet; that he begins to stu­dy? doe you heare Ʋalentiuss: here's a friend of yours would speak with you, when you are at leisure.

You know my price: for the finenesse of the silke, the working of the stuffe, and the pleasantnesse of the colour, the whole street shall not afford you a better, Ile assure you tis died in grain.

The better for him that shall wear it, nothing but what's in grain can please him: let mee see, I know not how my mony will reach: the Silkman hath emptied my pocket this morning, but you will bate nothing of your price?

By no means, I would have every man to live & thrive by what he professeth, it is mine owne case: let me see, I cannot make up the sum, I pray you let one of your men step over to the next lane: I lie there at the Barbers, Ile dispatch him presently.

My servants are all busie for the present, you see my shop is full of Customers, and every one striveth who shall be first served.

And I am in haste too, for I have sent for my Tailor to meet me at my lodging, and I am loth to disappoint him, because I would have his opinion in the stuffe.

Turne by the next lane, and thou shalt be sure not to misse it, though thou findest not me, I have took sufficient order and you shall be sure to be satisfied.

Three yards of Sattin and a halfe at seventeene, eight yards of Plush at foure and twenty; nay, there are divers other parcels, the summe is soon cast up: thou shalt have a note of all.

Hee's my Kinsman, next Cousin German's by the Mo­thers side; now playing the Wag, as many youths will doe, you know it Barber.

But for one thing, never should it grieve mee, I feare it might go nere to spoile his marriage, which I would not for more than Ile speak.

Now his exuse will be (as I told thee he's extreamly bash­full) to enquire for a Gentleman that owes his Master mony, to comply with the old Proverbe, Though his excuse be draff, yet drinks his errand.

Which Ile not heare, my heart's so tender ore him: when he comes (as long hee will not stay) take him in charge, Thy pains shall be well paid, for doubt not but Ile come to the conclusion.

Now good speed with you, good customers are thicke sowed, and come up but thin. It is good to make much of them, when we have them. This should be the patient, that he talked off.

Yes youth, I know, wherfore you come: pray rest you in that chaire, and Ile be for you presently; be not ashamed, you are not the first, nor shall be the last, that meet with these disa­sters: and now come, pray shew me your commodity.

Are his in danger too? let him not feare, but if hee have not let it run too far, there may be helpe found: nay, come, will you shew?

These parcels may in time grow great, come, will you be ruled, the Gentleman your Kinsman, told mee before, how bashfull you would be; and it becomes you well: but for your parcels, shew them in time: for if delay be long, that little which perhaps you shall have left, in time will come to nothing: your Kinsman's loth that you should spoile your Marriage?

Spoile my Marriage, spoile not my Masters debt, Neither draw these fearfull tricks on me: I need them not, pay mee the mony that your friend hath left, Dispatch mee so, for Kinsman I have none; And honest Barber finde some else to sport with, make me none of your Guls?

I say, pay me sir, what's my due, & what by your con­fession, your friend left, or bring me to the party, or commodity he late had of my Master, or Coine for't: you have confest him to be your friend, therfore for him must answer.

By your favour, no more friend of mine, then you found him, to claime Kinred: my acquaintance with him, yet is scarce a full houre.

You are Confederates, and so I feare that I shall finde you: You know my errand, & promist mee dispatch: [Page] Why am I not dispatched then?

My meaning was to give you a Sering, or an incision Knife, Of which he told me you did stand in need: Indeed I deal in such cōmodities, And am acquainted what such parcels mean: For other wares or mony due for them, I know not what be­longs to't.

Willingly: my cloak boy, Ile along, yet am affraid That hee who had profest himselfe thy Kinsman, and my deare friend, will prove thy Masters Cosin.

You talk like Gentlemen, and I like your talk the bet­ter, because you talke to a Gentlemen; you call mee Stultissimo, and I say, Stultorum plena sunt omnia: and now I talk to you like a Gentleman and a Scholer.

Gramercy Gentlemen, I am not now the man, I was in the morning; I did rise single, I return double: in the Meridian but Worshipfull, in the afternoon Honorable before Sun-set, and who knows but Majesticall before mid-night: nay I perswade my self I am so: am I not sweet Monkie?

All thy goods and chattels, thy moveables, and the stuff that belongs thereto, thy utensils and implements; now are all mine.

I have purchased thee in thy proper person by my word, but all thy other omnium gathrum, beforenamed, by my deeds, I think thou hast them to shew.

Let the Doctors wife beare with him, for mine own part, [Page] without he renounce this mood, and become sociable, as hee had wont, I defie his fellowship.

O is the tide turn'd, is the winde come about, by this good day, and I were not cursing my selfe, for being accessary to this melancholy, I have no faith in me; if women can transmute men thus suddenly, hang me, if I keep not out of their clutches.

Gallants, shall wee walk? I have a story for ye: prethee Lodwick frown not, be a friend indeed, and see not my defects, I have a tale shall make you laugh anon, and will excuse my blame; prethe be thy selfe, be jocund man.

Thus by degrees, with hazard of my life, have I attain'd unto my wishes rest; and boldly gaze thee Venice in the face: the time has beene, Oh, but that time is past, when I was more familiar with thy pompe, but all that blisse is gone: And murther now, has with a crimson stain seal'd mee accurst, and like a con­demn'd guilty Fugitive; I wander in despaire; fearing the ru [...]le of the harmlesse bird, and the flies clamor, the Ant, the Waspe, and every lesser thing, Dreadlesse of danger, strayes abroad for food; Not caring who behold them, But I, alas, of all; am most unhappy: Would I were dead, and past the feare of that, Makes mee thus Cowish. Who art thou comm'st here, more needy then my self?

Where might I run to meet destruction, And set a period on my wretchednesse? Stern misery I know, and feele thee now: Yet is the earth content to beare my weight, And suffer what proud man disdains to know, Unlesse to spit upon, or add to that, Which wanteth no extream.

That I could spend my self to teares for joy, beare wit­nesse you that know it: Iulio, for ever dwell within these arms [Page] of mine, thou truest among men, I have not power to question thee, my danger, my joy is so excessive; runne all to spoyle, & terrour meet with terrour; I feare none my Julio.

Strike when thou wilt proud death, I dare thee now; For having what I wisht, I wish no more, nor would entreate time to deferre a minuite to have him rest an age, since all things must have end, end it at once, my prayer is confirm'd, I have seene you e're I die.

And if you love me wish me not that wrong by pray­ing for your end: doe not quite undoe me, if you but knew my heart, my Julio, you would not crav't againe: I could have com­fort now, and cleane forget the dangers I have past, and those pursue me still: nothing to come can halfe so much dismay, as thou dost comfort; be it suddaine death or torture worse than it: but for your sake, would in my wombe I had bin strangled, and never drawne this aire.

Where art thou Conscience? whither hast thou tooke Since thou didst leave mans breast? that wee should all have mothers; VVisedome all, yet all contemne her precepts: when you first fled, and by command'ment from the Senate house, your ships and lands were siez'd on for the State, those that which staid them did appeare so neare, as if their blood had ty'd them to your service, grew so forgetfull in a mo­ments space, that neither argument, nor extreame signes could winne them to beliefe there had beene such, as what you were to them: I (as no lesse I could) bound to't by duty, spoke your merits still, and did maintaine your right, on the Allyes of your inconstant wife: but I am poore for't, truth was still despis'd, and lesse I could not be.

You wish me not so well, how e're you wish, if you wish otherwise: your misery be mine, and my enduring yours; one grave receive our bones; and hee that sayes this Sepulcher is mine, call it Francisco's Tombe.

Ignorant honesty, shallow Italian, yes, live a wretch: Canst thou be so fond to thinke me of that mettle? hast thou eyes, and mayst, yet will not see how thou art o're-recht: yes, doe continue innocent, doe, and die a foole, my friend, my friend, my very loyall friend, all friendship I forsweare, save outward signes, which with my garment J cast nightly off. The father of the slaine Antonio promises liberally by Proclamation to any that can bring Francisco forth. I will betray him, I will be the man shall purchase the reward: What way I curses, or care for the report the multitude shall clamour therein. Ile imitate the Lawyer, making bad words my gaine. Franciscus thou wast born for my advancement: he's sunke himselfe, and fruitlesse is the hope depends on that which was, and not which is; give me the present, not precedent man. Let me not hanker for emergency, but take the instant sway, the publish't recompence is mine, 'tis sayd, 'tis mine.

That any should be false—But were there no drosse, gold could not be esteem'd, nor nothing precious rare. Cornelia let me forget that name and nothing else.

And the same minuite did Phemone forsake her friends and kindred: but where or whither they have betook themselves the most knowing but conjecture.

I left him dead: thou art still just; some beast has made that fouler beast his prey, and made up my revenge: but come with me, let us withdraw unto you thicket by, and speake at large that woefull history commixt of my proceedings, and pur­suith; wilst time's our owne.

I would provide me of some necessaries, small in ex­pence, which make a mighty misse, and health cryes out to have: so if you please but let me fit my present want, at my returne en­joyne me to your will, though it continue to the latest date, and I am serviceable.

Speake no more such words, but make your owne con­tent: yet good Iulio be not absent long, make me not long to see thee.

Be briefe, and goodnesse take with thee. This Iulio, if desert might purchase Fame, deserves sufficient: but thou art par­tiall Fortune in cramming Buzzards, whilst the Eagle sterves: How many in this fertile Italy, whom Nature moulded when she loath'd her taske, and blew her seed among the ignorant, hast thou adorn'd with plenty? whilst seemely vertue, wrackt with poverty, jets under base controule: There's no felicity, nor true content here upon earth: The Spider builds his Webbe in Barnes and Palaces: and the Prince himselfe tastes gall as hony: Happinesse there's none, for least or greatest: Here my griefe so parches me, that it does paine me to relate my woes, and make my feelings knowne. Beneath this Hill a cleare and pleasant [Page] fountaine curles along, whose shallownesse makes the small pibbles 'peare above like Rocks, and murmure as shee runnes downe to the silver Current, thither will I high, and borrow so much of her watry store, as will asswage my thirst:

Tush these are nothing: I have cheated one of the bra­vest Stats-men of the world; the very quintessence of Spaine: Nay, I have fool'd him who boasted in his Country, he had guld all our Nation A Guelding is not rid in the horse-faire, but hee is mine to ride, maugre his Masters teeth. I have out-fac'd a fellow of his horse in the open Market, sold him before his face; & but making a question whether he trots or ambles, ride away both with the horse and mony, my Pusse. Sweet Munkey looke to the house at home, I must abroad againe, to fetch in a new purchase.

Three hundred pound: bee you ready to snappe him, and not to escape you without good baile: he's as slippery as an Eele.

Therefore we'le take him by the shoulder, and not by the taile; and so we shall be sure to hold him. But can you shew us the man?

By no meunes; Ile but see him in hucksters handling, and be gone. Are you not paid your Fees afore-hand, and— [Page] That's he now: Now let him scape upon your owne perrill. Farewell.

Then three merry men, and three merry men be we, are we not honest Serjeants? well, there's a peece to begin with­all: lets talke further of the businesse.

You speake well sir, if you hold on as you beginne: and if you can finde good baile, tenne to one but we shall prove as you late cald us (Honest Serjeants.)

Harke you, sir, take my counsell; though store be no sore, meddle with no more of them, lest you make me a Prophet, and get many a sore head by the match: have you not heard the an­cient saying, No man can serve two masters?

Gallants, when were you at Court? I have been desired thether fortie times, my wife (I thinke) has a hundred friends there: besides Cooks and Pantlers, that she has had many a good thing of, and they have sworn to bid me welcome for her sake.

In mightie men how great appears the vertue nere so small; how small the vice, though mighty Philosophie, they rules bridles my cogitations, and prolongs, what manhood would disdain, the time to come appales my courage and strikes instant feares through every nerve and artery: might wee like beasts end when wee die, and never make account in no other place then heer: what heart so base would feare the threatning Law? Flatter the Judge to save him: I would not sure: but there is blisse and torment much to come, wee cannot thinke on't yet the Re­surrection aws me, I am much distempered, and want of compa­nie, begets in me millions of terrours: Iulio tarries long, my Orisons secure him, could the teares wash the bloud but of my hands, my minde were something free.

Look to the homicide, such mercie as a Tiger yields his prey, when he's pincht for want of what's his booty, expect from me thou murtherer.

None I have deserv'd, or am about to crave, I know the worst, my life thou canst but have, 'Tis thine; I make a tender of it ere the sentence come, & give thy labour ease, alas, poor Iulio: thou wilt unfriended, run thy future race without societie, I pitty thee my friend more then my selfe, danger to me is such, I do expect and dread not. Fare thee well, my breach of promise, is not with my will, but meerly on constraint.

Will you accord with mee, shew that respect you once did tender him, and withall willingnes strive to invent a means may do him ease.

The gold is mine, his certain bondage does assure mee it, why should I be an Asse, and nicely stand on that no Trades­man does: no thrifty one, what conscience, any thing but such a word: our wise divines that preach an't, know it not, nor make good use of that, or ought they say, but of good mony: this I dai­ly see, and sometime make my daily meditation, all's Ceremonie compos'd for purpose:

Believe't thou mayst sooner move a rock, which nei­ther blustring winde, nor boisterous Sea could shake or swal­low, then beget remorse or smallest favour in so foule a case: I were unjust, and much unmeet to be the man I am, should wee shew mercie where the crime deserves, beyond the laws extent. He that shall pardon murder, take't from me, is accessary to the guilty deed, and stands in self predicament: Heaven defend we should be such, were he my Nephew, nay, my first-borne sonne, or one more neere: let me not be blest in my proceedings, if our Authoritie should blinde his sinne, or alter justice course, set him forth: what favour equitie can yield be his, no more expect Crisippus.

Arise, thou needst not kneele, nor beg for justice, be assu­red Arbaces: such his deservings, such his punishment, and cruell [Page] as the cause, thou most bruitish man, nay, beast or something worse: hadst thou no humanitie, no sparke of reason then, nor sence, to thinke thy trespasse foule and ugly? do'st not repent thy tyranny in death, though not the deed it self: fie on thee monster, hast thou a foule and dreadst not her perdition: what heathen sa­vage, nay, what ruder thing, having the life thou soughtst, would have enacted such a deed of ruth, as thou, thou worst of crea­tures, on the image and livelesse carcasse of thy loving friend.

That I did take his life, I have confest, what further accusations laid on mee, is meerly malice, and proceed from some, could wish my torment worse.

Unlesse I should belie my selfe, and speake like a vaine boaster, more then what I did, I must say this is false, and hee's from truth, as farre as I am from hope of life, begot this slander.

The fact's confest, my Lord, what need we further wade into the Law, or heap on troubles which we may eschew, upon so plain a case? the crime is Murder, Murder is confest, then as you finde the guilt, proceed to judgement, and make no further question.

Speake, sir, can you report any thing more touching this businesse then what already is delivered here in the open Court.

We were once friends: once had I such opinion of his vertues, my life and estimation were both his, hee might com­mand them, much it were to speake of all that past between us: thus in short, I would some other were compell'd to this, which you have tied me too, my neerest friend alive.

Must we be enforc'd, what should I speak, hee flue him, ript his bowels, mangled him, and in his wrath, as man will any thing: tumbled his reeking quarters downe a Vault most steep and lothsome: what of this, hee might deserve much worse au­steritie, yet this was bad enough?

Heare mee my good Lord, little I have to say, yet to much grief tend my few words, this traitor, nay, 'tis title all too good for one so hainous foule, that he is perjur'd, by the death I owe his latest words do witnesse what hee is more, and worse: with pardon Lords, I shall delate at large, that all hereafter may example take, and shun a villaines snare; I tooke him up, when like an Adder in the frosty dew, the cold had starved him: that I had set my foot upon his head, when to my bosome I did take the Serpent, not cherisht, comforted long had he been, but hee both bit and stung mee: foolish man I was to be so fond, not many months, nor happy days I had with this most truest, most immaculate piece, but that perfidious Caitiffe, that blacke fiend by strange suggestions, and invented projects, draws mee into a confirm'd jealousie, that she had stained her honour, falsly playd [Page] with young Antonio.

I from my wrong conceiv'd, least could I not, Drew him apart into a silent Grove, Having before vow'd solemnly revenge, Where I made some repetition of my griefe: he still (I see him) innnocent gentleman, taking my words For such as Lovers use, when they are wanton, Smiles me in the face, and would not thing 'twas anger.

O miserable time, when men make no more reckoning of their soules! Fye, fye, Francisco, thinke upon your end, and whither you must goe. Most reverend Fathers, observe you this his con­tumacy: I shall I feare be forc'd to speak what in my heart till now I chested, and rib'd in, because mine oath, 'twas not my wil hath heare constrained me to expose his blame, my soule had vowed to hide; Note into malice how he throwes himselfe, and would staine my reputation with a calumnious lye.

Nay, come Francisco, I must have your hand: I can as well forgive, as I can love; and nothing more than both: good Crissippus, my old friend.

Give him his liberty: Art thou so impudent to pleade for mercy, and beg of me, having committed such a capitall tres­passe here in my view?

Though what I speake, with some additions, I have done and more, and he more false has plaid, than I have said, blot his offences: be propitious Sir.

He that prayes next in his behalfe, by heaven friends not himself, and is mine enemy: We have too long suffered such Weeds as these to flourish in our soyle: No more the bosome of this earth of ours, shall (like a mother) lend her fruitlesse en­crease, to cherish those would bane her: The sword of justice cut the justice off that keeps it sheath'd to such: His deeds were shamefull, his rewards be so, and quittance his desert: S [...]are on his brow in letters cappitall, the name of knave, that all behold may reade him what he is, and hate him in the sight: His next doome is this; after three daies we charge thee on thy life, never set foote more in thy Native Climate.

As freely as I hope to be forgiven; and crave no more amends, but onely this you'le call me brother, and make Phemo­ne mine.

Here stands the meanes, whom I must ever tender with respect, as with my full proceedings you shall heare, when none can interrupt.

Francisco, henceforth know your vertuous wife, & prize her as a jewell: I have heard the world speake well of her, and those unmatch'd wish they may have your fortunes. Lodwicke where's the dumbe shew you promis'd me.

Even ready my Lord; but may be cald a motion: for puppits wil speak but such corrupt language, you'le never under­stand without an interpreter, or a short plot; which I have drawn [Page] thus—Now the motion followes.

Purge mee Duke, purge me, or let my wife take out my corrupted braines, and rince them in a Cucking-stoole: I come Skimmington, I come.

Nay, rather in an open Charriot: and yet it cannot bee properly called a Chariot, because it runnes but on two Wheeles.

Nay, gentlemen, no egges I beseech you: for I love them at this time, neither raw, roasted, nor rotten. For should they hit me on the breast, they would goe cleane against my stomacke.

No juglers Boxe, Ile assure thee friend: for here's neither passe, nor repasse, I stand here you see for an example, And could wish all these good people to follow it.

You are deceived, Signior: rather Bread, and Meate, as Pye-crust, bones, and fragments out of the Ludgate mans basket: Nay, hold your hands, I beseech you Gentlemen, and use your tongues and spare not.

Beare witnesse my Masters, that is the maine malefactor indeed, and I stand here for a show: Ile goe no further than his owne confession.

They talke of Cheaters, here is a twenty shil­lings peece that I put into my mouth, let any Cheater in Christendome cousen me of this, and carry it away cleanly, and Ile not only forgive him, but hugge him and imbrace him for it, and say he is a very Hocus Pocus indeed.

I have markt him, 'tis mine owne: and notwithstan­ding all this melancholy we'le spend it at night in Wine and Musicke.

Hee that can plucke this peece out of my jawes, spight of my teeth, and I keepe my mouth fast shut, Ile say hee is more than a Cheater, and a Doctor Faustus, or Mephostophilus at least.

May I eate hay with your horse, if they were not both done neatly and cleanly. But Gentlemen, and the rest, you see I am at this present your pittifull spectacle. I lookt once within this twelve month, not to have been mounted in such state: but no man knows what preferment hee is born to. You see I have hitherto sayled through this great storme without soyling my Suite, spoyling my Ruffe, or spattering my Beaver: thanks to these kinde spectators.

And was it not fairely done Master Sergeant, to teach you how to disgest the wearing of a Surplice, before you came to stand in a white sheet.

Withall my heart: and if either you or any of my accu­sers be weary with following me on foot, the Room is now emp­ty, I will give him leave to ride in my place.

Yet when I doe but think of this disaster, it draws teares from mine eyes.

A piece, a piece, and had it now, just now; sure whilst I was so high pearcht none could dive so low into my pocket, it was sure as I lighted, and dropt from mee, just as I drew my handkerchief.

But I professe that one of them was a piece, and never came into my hand, and that I must demand of you: say did no body stoop but hee?

Marry twenty shillings good and lawfull currant mo­ny, Puss, was not this the piece that I put in my pocket this mor­ning?

Doe you see Gentlemen. I am here brought to publike penance for a Cheater, and here's a plain fellow that (it seems) in his simplicity would out-doe me: if I be thus censured meer­ly for suspicion; shall hee scape free that is taken in the very action?

Nay, by your favour Gentlemen, I have driven a Cart often for my pleasure, and would bee loth to ride in one now for my punishment. It is penance enough for mee to part with my peece, which cannot be more currant of Coine, then his is Arrant for Knavery.