The court begger a comedie acted at the Cock-pit by His Majesties servants, anno 1632 / written by Richard Brome.

The court begger a comedie acted at the Cock-pit by His Majesties servants, anno 1632 / written by Richard Brome.

Table of contents

Title page

Drammatis Personae.

PROLOGUE.

THE COURT BEGGER.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

ACT IV.SCENE II.

ACT IV.SCENE III.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

ACT. V.SCENE II.

EPILOGUE.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE COURT BEGGER.

A COMEDIE.

Acted at the Cock-pit, by his MAjESTIES Servants, Anno 1632.

WRITTEN By RICHARD BROME.

MART.

Hic totus volo rideat Lîbellus.

LONDON Printed for RICHARD MARRIOT, and THO. DRING, and are to be sold at their Shops in Fleet-street, 1653.

Drammatis Personae.

[Page]

[Page]

SIR Andrew Mendicant, an old Knight, turnd a projector.

Mr. Courtwit, a Complementer.

Mr. Swaynwit, a blunt Countrey Gentleman.

Mr. Citwit, a Citizens Son that supposes himselfe a wit.

Mr. Daynty, a supposed Picture drawer, but a Pick-pocket.

Sir Raphael, an old Knight that talkes much and would be thought wise.

Sir Ferdinand, a Knight distracted for love of the Lady Strangelove.

Frederick, in love with Charissa.

Gabriel, servant to Mendicant.

Doctor of Physick.

Three poore Projectors.

A Sowgelder.

A Boy.

Lady Strangelove, a humerous widow, that loved to be courted.

Philomel her Chambermaide.

Charissa, Mendicants Daughter.

PROLOGUE.

[Page]

WEe've cause to fear yours, or the Poets frowne

For of late day's (he know's not (how) y' are grown,

Deeply in love with a new strayne of wit

Which he condemns, at least disliketh it,

And solemnely protests you are to blame

If at his hands you doe expect the same;

Hee'l tread his usuall way, no gaudy Sceane

Shall give instructions, what his plot doth meane;

No handsome Love-toy shall your time beguile

Forcing your pitty to a sigh or smile.

But a slight piece of mirth, yet such were writ

By our great Masters of the Stage and Wit,

Whom you approv'd: let not your suffrage then

Condemne't in him, and prayse't in other men.

Troth Gentlemen let me advise yee, spare

To vex the Poet full of age and care,

How he might strive to please yee, and beguile

His humerous expectation with a smile,

As if you would be satisfy'd, although

His Comedy containes no antique show.

Yet you to him your favour may expresse

As well as unto those whose forwardnesse

Make's them your Creatures thought, who in a way

To purchace fame give money with their Play,

Yet you sometimes pay deare for't, since they write

Lesse for your pleasure than their own delight.

Which if our Poet fayle in, may he be

A Sceant of Mirth in their next Comedye.

THE COURT BEGGER.

[Page]

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Mendicant, Charissa.

Men.

YO' have given him then his answer?

Cha.

Forc'd by you,

Heaven knowes with my much sorrow. Such a Lover

So in all points deserving of true worth,

And best indowments to make up a Man

That I shall never see—your pardon sir,

Though you pulld back, by violence, my hand,

In which my heart was freely given to him,

It is not in your power or strength of art

To beat a sigh back, or restraine a teare

Which I must offer to his memory.

Men.

Such stormes soone wast themselves in absent Lovers

When light of Reason, and good Counsell shall

Breake forth and shine upon 'em: and for your part

Daughter, I know it shall. And, presently,

[Page]I thus begin to dissipate your errors,

You love this Frederick.

Cha.

Love knows I do.

Men.

You say he is deserving in all points.

Cha.

My love emboldens me to tell you he is.

Men.

Charissa, take me with you. Is he not

Deficient in that onely absolute point

That must maintaine a Lady, an estate?

Cha.

Love weighes not that.

Men.

What can he shew you more

To take you with, then a wild head of hayre;

A very Limebush to catch Lady-birds?

A Tissue Doublet; and a Riband shop

Hung in his Hatbands, might set up a Pedler?

Can this maintaine a Lady?

Cha.

You but looke

Upon his outside sir.

Men.

I trust you have not

Bin over inwardly acquainted with him.

Cha.

Sir, he has Valour, Wit, and Honour, you well know

Hee's of a noble Family extracted.

Men.

What's that a yeare? those parts may be acquir'd

In winning of a strumpet. But what Joincture

Can he propound to you? or, (in case he dyes,

Your Dowry being spent) what personall Estate

Ist like hee'l leave you, but his Powder glasse,

His Combe and Beard-brush, and perhaps a Trunkfull

Of Elegies, Raptures, Madrigalls and Sonnets?

No let him goe; discard him: and embrace

The hopes that I have for thee in the hopefull,

Exquisite Cavalier, Courtier and Souldier,

Scholler, (and what not!) brave Sir Ferdinando:

There's a Man rising in the favour Royall,

And may in thee Charissa, make me happy.

Cha.

Sir you have given me liberty of speech;

[Page]And may be pleas'd to let me tell you now,

You aime at your own fortune, not at mine.

Men.

I seeke no fortune, but for thy advancement:

All that I shall call mine must be thine owne.

Cha.

I would be playner yet; beseeching you be not thought too lose in my obedience.

Men.

Speake freely Girle.

Cha.

Your ayme has bin to raise

You state by Court-suits, begging as some call it,

And for that end you left your Countrey life,

And Lands too ever since my Mother dy'd,

Who while shee liv'd with best of womans judgement

Which held you from that course of selling faire

Possessions to enable you with money

To purchace wit at Court. You pardon me?

Men.

On, on.

Cha.

And for th' Exchange of a faire Mansion-house

Large fruitfull Fields, rich Medowes and sweet pastures

Well cropt with corne and stockd as well with Cattell,

A parke well stor'd with Deere too, and Fishponds in't,

And all this for a lodging in the Strand now—

But doe I not offend?

Men.

No, no, on still.

Cha.

Your own fed Beefes and Muttons, Fowle and Poultry

Loaded your long boords then; and you had then

Neighbours could boast your hospitality,

And poore, that for the remnants prayd for you,

Now all concludes upon a two-dishd table.

And whereas then you had a numerous Family

Of Servants and Attendants, out of which

For profit or for pleasure you could call

Your Bayliffe, Groom, your Falconer, or your Huntsman,

Now sir, a Varlet Coachman, and Footboy

Are all your Retinue; and for the Hounds

You kept, that made you sport and Musick, now

[Page]None but your project Beagles, that smell out

Where such a forfeiture is to be begg'd;

Where one would purchase a Reprieve, another

A Pardon or a lease of Life Rope-free

For ready money: Then where Goods or Lands

Are found of men that make away themselfes,

And so of fooles and madmen; All to set

Your trade of Begging up▪ and still you beg:

But your own want of favour holds you back

From reaching any profit by't, because

You beg by Mediators tongues, which you

Call Favorites, who reape the crop of all,

And leave you but the Gleanings; some small pittance

To keepe alive the itch of begging in you—

Men.

Shee speakes home and within me, to the purpose.

Cha.

Still wasting your own fortunes; till at last

You have no hopefull project left to thrive by

But to put me upon this suppos'd favorite

To beg for you when it is doubtfull yet

Whether hee'l take me with the Dowry, which

Mine Unkle left me, though you adde your projects.

Men.

The noble Gallant loves thee, Girle, and holds

Thy Person and thy vertues Dowry enough,

Cha.

He is a wanton Lover, full of change,

And at this instant singularly devoted

Unto that humorous Lady, the young Widow.

Men.

The Lady Strangelove?

Cha.

Shee is ambitious

To draw all mens affections to her service,

And then abuses all by scornes or slightings,

And this (they say) has made him almost mad.

Men.

He mad! believe it not: his reason is

Married to him better then so. How now!

Ha' you seene the noble Knight from me?

How did he entertaine my Message? ha!

[Page]Why speakst thou not? what answer has he sent?

Enter Gabrel.

Gab.

Hee's not Sir to be spoken with or seene

[...]o any purpose, but by his Phisitians.

Men.

So sodainly and dangerously sick,

Where are my hopes?

Gab.

I cannot say how sick

[...]e is; nor can himselfe give any account

Of his condition: for he is mad sir.

Men.

How I mad?

Gab.

Starke staring mad; as mad

[...]s you can thinke a Courtier must be

[...]hat is more mad then all the rest.

Men.

If this be true I sinke, what is suppos'd he cause?

Gab.

That sir has puzzell'd all the Doctors

[...] weighing all his severall wild affections;

[...]ne findes he was ambitious of Court favour,

[...]nd guesses he was cross'd in some great suite;

[...]nother takes him as he was a Souldier,

[...]nd losing cost and travaile in the warre

[...]ust lose his wits for that. A third collects

[...]e was a Poet that drunk too deepe of Helicon,

[...]nd turnd his braine in clyming of Parnassus:

[...] fourth considering that he was a Gamster

[...]ng and much favourd, and uprais'd by fortune

[...] mountaynous heapes of Gold, conjectures, that

[...]me late unlucky hand or chance at play

[...]th with his money swept his wit away.

Men.

Fy, these can be no causes to remove,

[...] shake his settled judgement or his temper.

Gab.

Then sir a fift and youngst head among

[...]e learned men (what call you him for a Doctor?

[...]y that affects gay clothes and Flanders Laces,

[...]at trim effeminate Gentleman) he

[Page]Has known this noble patient to have beene

An extreame Amorist, desperatly devoted

Unto the service of some threescore Ladies,

And honord every one the most in costly presents,

Banquets and Verses; and thinks the disdaine

Of one or all of them has turnd his braine.

Cha.

I told you sir, the cause before; and nam'd

That humorous Lady for it, whom in heart

I can no lesse then thanke.

Men.

Goe, get you up.

And stirre not from my Chamber on my blessing

Till my returne, nor admit any one

Unto a conference with you.

Cha.

I obey you.

Exit.

Gab.

Some of your project searchers wait without si [...]

Loden it seemes with new intelligences.

Men.

They may come in: but as I feare they bring

Me little comfort, I am sure I shall

Afford them none. Now sirs, your businesse?

Enter 3 Projectors.

1. Pro.

We wait upon your honour my good Lord

To crave the knowledge of what good successe

Your honor finds in our late suits my Lord.

Men.

Why honor? why my Lord?

2. Pro.

We stile you now.

3. Pro.

As all must doe hereafter.

1. Pro.

Yes, and that

In a short space of time, the world holds no

Proportion else, nor shall it more be sayd

That money can buy Land; or great Estates

In Lands and Mannor-houses be call'd Lordships.

1.2.3.

Or wealth joynd with desert attaine to ho [...]

Gab.

So now the Game's a foot. They hunt in full c [...]

1. P.

My Lord 'tis most apparant.

Men.

How you torture me!

[Page]2. P.

Wee'l mak't appeare most plainly on our lives.

3. P.

And credits too.

Gab.

Their Lives and credits, ha, ha, ha.

1. P.

That in the space of one whole year our projects

Shall bring in fifty thousand pounds to us,

And hundred thousand to your selfe; and to

The Coffers Royall for full seaven years space

64 Thousand 783 l. 7 s. 9 d ob. q. per annum,

Tis here already cast. Which to make good

Wee'l venture Lives and Goods.

2. P.

Our Wives and Children.

Mend takes the scroll and peruses it.

3. P.

We can ingage no more.

Gab.

A wondrous strange ingagement

Your lives and goods; your wives & children gentlemen!

That's too deep set, and questions the Kings Mercy:

Me thinks it were enough, for non-performance

You would submit your bodies to perpetuall

Imprisonment at the Kings charge; and leave

Your wives and children to their severall Parishes

You are still faithlesse sir, in all projects.

1.

But when you shall perceive the wealthy sonnes

Dayly brought in, and be, continually,

Troubled with the Receipts (if you may be trusted

That have so little faith) when you shall soyle

And gall your fingers ends with telling money,

Yet find the lickings of 'em sweet, you'l then

Sing other Notes.

2.

Meane time entreat my Lord

To put you to some Tellers Clearke to teach you

Ambo-dexterity in telling money.

Gab.

Do you hear sir? Can you give me two sixpences

For a shilling—or any single money?

2. P. Pish.

Gab.

Cry mercy, you weare none in ready coine,

But all in Bullion lockt up in your brave-chests,

And there you have the treasure of the Indies;

[Page]Of deeper value, could it be digg'd out,

Then all the Hollanders have waited for

These 7 yeares out of the Spanish plate fleets.

3. Pugh.

Gab.

But put mine eye out (now I dare you to't)

With any single peece of ready money.

1. P.

My Lord your man abuses us here strangely

With his old misbeliefe. But still we doubt not

Your honourable good opinion of us.

2. P.

You have pervs'd this weighty paper here.

Men.

It weighes not all twelve graines.

1. P.

No more?

Nay the whole platforme of a stately City,

Or a designe to conquer a whole Nation,

But doe you note the grounds, the Rules and Reasons,

First for the easinesse of the severall grants.

2. P.

Next for performance of our undertakings.

3. P.

And then the certainty o' th' propounded profits

Both to the King and us.

1. P.

Without all grievance unto the subject.

Fab.

That's no little marvaile.

1. P.

Take 'em into particulars my Lord,

First this for Perrukes. The Monopoly

Of making all the Perrukes male and female,

Through Court and Kingdome.

Gab.

There's a capitall project.

2. P.

Note the necessity, that they be well made

Of no diseas'd or infectious stuffe, of dead or living,

No verminous or sluttish locks or combings,

But harmlesse and sound haire, of innocent,

And wholesome people.

Gab.

They must then reape none

From Gallowses, nor Hospitalls; from whence

They have had great supplies.

1. P.

You have in that

Said very well; For here's a Reformation

[Page]Of that abuse intended in these words

Innocent and wholsome.

Gab.

How if a man or woman shall desire

To weare a friends hayre so departed; as

You his; or your wife yours; may't not be had?

1. P.

Or if your friend or Mistris dye so, you

Procure the haire and bring it from the Gallows

To th' office, and it may be done accordingly.

Gab.

You have in that said very well Sir too.

1. P.

Now out of this provision, what an infinite

Profit will rise i' th' generall use of 'em,

And multiplicity that will be worne

By people of all sorts, degrees and ages:

The old to hide their naturall baldnesse, and

The young and middle-ag'd their artificiall

Or accidentall.

Gab.

By the pox or so.

1. P.

They shall be brought into that reputation

That none shall be esteem'd so sound or wise

As publique wearers of them: which to effectuate

Tis requisite that you obtaine a Mandat

Unto all Courtiers, that would be thought wise

To weare false hayre: because clownes have been noted

To ralke like fooles or mad men in their own.

Men.

No more of that.

1.

What say to this my Lord,

Touching new fashions of apparrell; sutes,

Hats, Boots, Swords, Belts, Ribands, &c.

For every wearer of his first o'th' fashion

To pay a groat to th' King; and every Tradesman

Two pence on every severall piece he sells

Of any such new fashion the first yeare?

Gab.

And what may this pride money amount unto

Per annum, can you guesse?

Men.

I will not meddle in it.

[Page]2.

No my good Lord.

Men.

No, nor your Perrukes neither.

3.

What say to this my Lord of the Balconyes?

Men.

Nor that.

1.

This then for sucking out of cornes.

Men.

Away with it.

2.

This then: that on the birth of every Girle

The Father pay a groat; to hearten men

To live soberly and get Souldiers.

Men.

Away.

1.

This makes amends for all then. A new project

For buylding a new Theatre or Play-house

Upon the Thames on Barges or flat boats

To helpe the watermen out of the losse

They've suffer'd by Sedans; under which project

The subject groanes, when for the ease of one

Two abler men must suffer; and not the price,

Or pride of Horse-flesh or Coach-hire abated.

This shall bring flouds of gaine to th' watermen

Of which they'l give a fourth of every fare

They shall boord at the floating Theatre,

Or set ashore from thence, the Poets and Actors

Halfe of their first yeares profits.

Men.

Fy away.

1.

This is a weighty one: For massy summes

That may be freely given out of the City,

To have but this assurance, that hereafter

They may ingrosse the getting of their own

Children: by order tane that Cavaliers,

And Courtiers may no more invade,

Or mix with Tradesmens wives: whereby tis thought

So many City Prodigalls have been gotten;

Onely the thrifty countrey Gentlemen

To be excepted: for by them 'tis guest

So many Citizens grow landed men.

[Page]Gab.

Were not they gotten by Projectors think you?

3.

My Lord your servant jeeres us.

Men.

To deale plainely

I doe allow't in him —

Gab.

Heaven has heard my prayers.

Men.

And will heare him or any man oppose

All that is put to me by way of project

To put me by all further hopes in 'em:

For (with hearts griefe I speake it) he by whom

I onely hop'd to climbe (alas) is fallen.

1.

What out of favour?

Men.

No, out of his Reason.

2.

The noble Cavalier sir Ferdinando.

3.

That late stood candidate for the favour royall,

Is he now fallen besides himselfe?

Men.

Even he.

1.

What have you then to doe my Lord

In lieu of all your service but beg him?

Men.

His greater and his nearer friends at Court

Will prevent me.

2.

They shall not, never feare it.

1.

Come we will make quick worke of this.

My Lord you shall disburse but twenty pieces.

2.

Among us three. 3. And we will instantly

Finde his estate. 1. And lay you down a way

So plaine that you shall say All's yours,

Before you stir a foot.

Gab.

But when he has travell'd

Till he has tir'd himselfe, he shall returne,

And say All's lost, ist not so Gentlemen?

Men.

I will not part with any money sirs.

1.

Trust me you doe not well to put my Lord

Off o' his benefit, by disheartning him

In this small venture. Will you then be pleas'd

To give us but ten pieces.

[Page]Men.

Not a penny.

2.

Five you shall my Lord,

And stand no longer thus in your own light.

3.

Or but a piece a Man.

Men.

Not a denier.

1.

A dinner then my Lord, but of one piece.

Men.

My answers cannot please you. Answer 'em you.

Gab.

I wonder how you having stretch'd your throats

With the loud sounds of thousands, hundred thousands

Can, after all, so faintly whisper forth

One piece; and that as much in vaine, as all

The massy summes: for all but brings you nothing,

It shewes you Gentlemen of resolute patience;

And would take thankfully I warrant you

An od halfe crowne amongst you: and what say you

To every man a kick on the condition?

What say you to one with tother?

1.

This abuse

Shall lose your Master a hundred thousand pound.

Gab.

Goe coine your bullion braines into the money

And come againe. My master was

Your Lord even now, as he was Lord of Beggers.

1.

I hope to live to see him beg of us.

Gab.

Out hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred,

thousands, Millions, ten Millions, Millions upon Millions

Away, i'le stamp your buttocks into coyne else.

Ex. Projectors.

The Devill ride that hindmost of 'em, for

A raw bon'd Jade: Sfoot he has lam'd my toes.

Men.

I am glad I am so rid of 'em, and now

As th'art my Servant and my loving Kinseman—

Gab.

To follow you in all things but in Projects.

Men.

Looke to my House and Daughter, that she start not;

Nor any entrance be allowd to Fredrick

To re-intangle her in his Love. I know

[Page]Thy vertue and thy valour can make good

My trust impos'd in thee.

Gab.

You need not feare sir

But, good sir, no more projects.

Men.

I have but one,

On which I'le set my rest. Thoult say tis good.

Gab.

Except it be the begging of this Madman

It can be nothing.

Men.

Tis the very same:

By which I will advance my house and name.

Exit.

Gab.

The Beggers best is that he feeles no shame:

Sprecious what meane you? Ha' you forgot so soone

Your Fathers strict command, and he scarce gone yet?

Enter Charissa.

Cha.

Alas hee'l then meet Fredrick and divert him,

I saw him at the window making this way.

Gab.

He gets no entrance to you. I must obay

A master though you can neglect a father.

Cha.

Be not so cruell. Thou mayst live to love,

And need the pitty of a friend.

Gab.

I pitty you,

And will do no more then you know how to aske

For your own good. I understand your cause

And can relieve you if you'l yeild to councell.

Cha.

You are my Kinsman; and have bin my friend,

Though you observe my father who, I feare,

Has not a fathers love towards me.

Gab.

His love is great and certaine,

And all his travell is for your advancement:

But he goes blindfold on unprosperous wayes

Led by credulity. Projects! pox o' projects

The patron of his projects is (it seemes)

Pepper'd with madnesse. Tis but Justice on him,

And now i'le give you a secret if you'l promise

To be ruld by me.

[Page]Cha.

You shall rule me cosen.

Gab.

This Ferdinand, your fathers great Court-godling

Nere sought you for a wife; but to have whor'd you:

(That is the English on't) and to appeare

A right great man in th'act, he would ha' made

By hopes and promises your credulous Father

The instrument of your prostitution:

Which to effect, (though still he undertook

His hopefull projects) cunning Lawyer-like

He crost or lost him still in all, on purpose

That poverty at length might urge him to

Give you to his dispose.

Cha.

This was my feare.

Gab.

Away: some body comes.

Cha.

Tis Fredrick. I must see him.

Gab.

You'l never see him more then. Go to your chamber. A little patience and he shall be yours.

Cha.

So dos a heart consume in lingring fire,

When cooling hopes are cast on hot desire.

Exit.

Gab.

Poore heart I pitty her, and will labour for her.

Enter Frederick.

Fred.

O Gabriel! I am happy in finding thee,

Thy master absent, whom I saw, in hast

N [...]w passing towards the Court. Where's my Charissa?

Gab.

You may not see her.

Fred.

May not see her sir?

Gab.

May not! nay must not: shall not see her.

Fred.

Y'are very plaine with me.

Gab.

Her owne command

Warran [...]s me speake it sir.

Fred

A villaine speakes it.

Draw.

Gab.

I have a sword speakes other language for me.

Fred.

Can she whose thoughts are truth, and written here,

Here in this breast, giving me ample welcome,

Give thee a countermand to bar me from it?

[Page]Wouldst thou make her a double hearted monster?

Or like another woman?

Repent thee of thy trespasse yet and live.

Gab.

Sir, if you thinke to fight, talke not too much;

Or, if you needs must talke, then heare as well.

Fred.

What wouldst thou say?

Gab.

Sir, I have more to say

Then fits this place, since you are apt to quarrell;

And this no ground to bustle on: nor indeed

Where I dare for my honesty and trust

Allow you longer stay. If therefore you

Will walke, I'le wait upon you; and direct you

In a more ready way to finde Charissa.

Fred.

Is shee not here i' th' house?

Gab.

O sir, a man

May come within his arme-reach of his money

In the Exchequer: but he must walke about

To finde due order e're he draw it out.

Fred.

The fellow's honest, valiant, and discreet,

Full man, in whom those three additions meet.

Gab.

Sir, dare you trust me?

Fred.

Yes I dare; and why?

Because if thou dar'st fight, thou dar'st not lie.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Philomel, Court-wit, Swayn-wit, Cit-wit.

Phi.

HEre in this gallery Gentlemen you may, at your pleasure,

Untill my Lady comes, walk or sit.

Cou.

Or lie down if you please.

[Page]Ph.

If you so, wrong not my Ladies Couch with your Spurres I pray: take heed you leave not a Rowell there.

Sw.

If one should, your Lady has no Lord to call her honour to question, whose Knight-hood it belong'd unto.

Phil.

You have a good countrey wit sir.

Sw.

My name is Swayne-wit; and for all you twit me with the Countrey, I am a Gentleman tho'.

Ph.

I honour you the more sir, for I am a Countrey Maide my selfe.

Sw.

Thou art a baggage, and a bold one, I am deceiv'd else.

I would be further acquainted with you tho'.

Kisse long.

Have you done now? You will have time enough for

Further and better acquaintance.

Thou art a Jackanapes of the basest tricks that ever I saw, for a halfe-penny. Shee's your choyce, is shee? Could not you let be tho'? I ha' bin acquainted with thee but two dayes, and forgi 'me for swearing, I ha' found thee beating ripe a skore o' times at least. Take heede I begin not now, and handsell your Ladies house, that is so much talkt on, and your Gentlewomans presence here with a fist about your eares.

Cou.

Not for a thousand pound.

Sw.

That's a great deale of money. I could find i'my heart to do't tho'.

Cou.

Slife we are all undone then.

Sw.

He sets my teeth on edge to looke upon him: He lookes so like a wilding crab, good neither for drink nor sauce.

Ph.

Why would you presse him then?

Sw.

Thou hast a verjuice wit.

Ph.

For my poore sake forbeare sir.

Sw.

Let him stand further then, and looke o' toe side.

[Page]Cit.

Well sir, this is no cause nor place to fight in, when—

Sw.

What sayes he?

Ph.

Nothing, you heare he whistles tother way.

Sw.

Tother way, what backwards?

Ph.

What new guest ha' you brought here Mr. Court-wit, for my Lady to laugh at?

Cou.

One for that purpose Phil, you ha' spoke the man, But what company has my Patronesse, that shee is yet busy.

Sw.

I that! If shee be long busy I will not stay, and shee were ten great Ladies, or one as big as twenty, for all shee is your Patronesse, must we wait out of our wits, because Chalivere ran mad for her?

Ph.

Ha' you heard o' that sir?

Sw.

My Cozen Court-wit's question was who's with her?

Ph.

O sweet Mr. Court-wit, when will you bring the fine civill Gentleman, that maintaines himselfe so gallantly by picture drawing?

Sw.

Here's a new businesse! Fare yee well, pray tell your Lady I came not from Pensans to grow here.

Ph.

Nay sweet sir stay, there is sir with my Lady none but the grave and witty talking Knight. Some call him the metrapolitane wit of Court; he that loves Ladyes society so much, and yet has vow'd virginity.

Cou.

As much as in man lies Phil; Hee is a perpetuall vowd batchellor indeed, and as constant to his vow as to his fashion in apparrell, which is ever the same, sir Raphael Winter-plum.

Cit.

That old witherd piece. I know him.

Sw.

Thou wilt beare up again.

Cit.

He has lick'd up a living with his tongue; makes all great tables his own; and eats for his talke. He may be conversant with women: for (they say) he guelt himselfe [Page] beyond Sea for spight one did him; and now preaches chastity to Ladies, and love to their husbands. Hee's a Lay-gospeller among the married sort, and an especiall pedant to the youth o' Court.

Cou.

Fy, thou speakst too much.

Sw.

There's another humor I could beat thee for with all my heart, thou wilt speake outragiously of all men behinde their backs, and darst not answer Ba —to the face of a sheep, O I could pommell thee.

Cit.

This is not yet a cause to fight for, when —

Ph.

But will not that fine Gentleman Mr. Dainty come, Mr. Court-wit?

Cou.

I expect him presently.

Ph.

I'le see if their conference be ended, or breake it if I can, and hasten my Lady to you.

Exit.

Sw.

This wench has a dainty wit.

Cou.

Shee may, living with the prime Lady-wit in towne.

Sw.

But what Dainty is that shee talkes on so affectionately?

Cou.

Troth a Gentleman that lives at a good rate; very civill in conversation, keepes good company; yet none of his acquaintance that I am acquainted with knowes his beginning, or his present meanes.

Sw.

A Gentleman borne.

Cou.

I know no more but by his port, and fashion, you saw him with me last night.

Sw.

Forgi' me for swearing, Ist he?

Cou.

He was at the Play with us too, doe you not remember that?

Sw.

Yes, that I was at the Play, by sure token and a sad one.

Cit.

I'le shew you somewhat of him. A Gentleman borne did you aske?

Sw.

Now he beares up againe.

[Page]Cit.

Hee cannot be a Gentleman by birth or place. A fine-handed, and a fine headed fellow he is; and pretends great skill and practice too in Picture-drawing, Watch-making, and such like finger workes; which he sayes he uses as a Gentlemans exercise, not as a trade to live upon; when either he does live on't; or else hee has some more secret way, as perhaps pimping or pursing for ought I know.

Sw.

There he is again! Art thou bound in conscience to wrong all men in their absence, till I beate thee into better manners?

Cou.

Hold hold, I prithee hold.

Cit.

Yet still the cause is insufficient, when—

Cou.

Here comes the Gentleman.

Enter Dainty.

Cit.

Is hee come? Noble Mr. Dainty—The welcomst in the World. I protest I suffer'd by your absence.

Dai.

You do me too much honour Mr. Cit-wit.

Cit.

Oh sir, your humble servant.

Sw.

Ha, ha. Forgi' me for swearing, what a Spaniell's this?

Dai.

Gentlemen you are well found, I was a little stayd by the way upon receipt of monies. Ha' you seene the Lady yet?

Cou.

Shee's yet a little busy. We shall all instantly take the opportunity together.

Dai.

But Gentlemen; you that have better knowledge of this Lady informe if you please, why are we summond hither?

Cou.

Thou speakst as if thou hadst guilt upon thee; fear nothing man.

Sw.

I that's the thing that I would understand too. And why me of any man? They say indeed shee is a humorous Lady, and loves to busy her selfe. But what are we to her? are there not greater men, and Lords enough [Page] for her to foole away the time with, but we must dance attendance on her humors?

Cit.

I protest Mr. Swayn-wit, I admire your ingenuity.

Sw.

You will be medling still.

Cit.

Tis to your question sir, which I will answer.

Sw.

I there's another of your cockscombly tricks, to answer any question, that's ask'd another man, out with tho'.

Cit.

This Lady sir, this humorous wity Lady is a wit-sponge, that suckes up wit from some, and holds as her own, untill shee squeeze it out on others. Shee will make use of ours, or any courser wits; and search 'em out to sift 'em. Shee will collect from market-folkes; and hold conferences with the poore Trades-people that cry their wares about the streets, Shee will rake wit out of a dunghill Ragwoman.

Swa.

So there he is againe! darest thou abuse a noble Lady, in her owne house too? I dare not now but beat thee.

Cou.

Forbeare good cosen.

Cit.

Still, still, the cause is naught, when—

Dai.

Ods so the Ladies comming I think.

Enter Philomel.

Phil.

Gentlemen, my Lady cannot yet be rid of the tedious talking Knight. But shee will cast him presently. He is now following her into this roome, pray passe into the next; my Ladies Musick roome. There you shall find a collation of good Tobacco and Sack and one to attend you, you know the fashions of the House Mr. Court-wit.

Cou.

Come away Gentlemen.

Exit Gentlemen.

Phil.

I could even love and looke upon that sweete Mr. Dainty a whole houre methinks.

[Page] Enter Strange-love, and Sir Raphael.

Stra.

Goe your wayes down Mayd, and if any aske for Sir Raphael here, say that I hope hee will ha' done anon.

Ra.

You would be rid of me: but pardon me Madam, I must hold your glasse to you.

Stra.

That's a poore Chamber-mayds office; and ill becomes your gravity Sir Raphael.

Ra.

I'le open then the booke to you of your errors.

Str.

Now you speake scholler-like, and your selfe: But have we spent all this while in by, and idle talke, and have that volume to be open'd yet? Pray read mee for the first Lesson for this Mornings Exercise, and my Edification, the last Chapter of my book of errors as you call it.

Ra.

You are a mocker of instruction, and good counsell.

Str.

Begins it so? whom is that spoken to?

Ra.

I speak to onely you; to conjure (if I can) that spirit of scorne out of you; which you have taken in, and long affected for a humor, your singular own humor, till it is grown so familiar, so inherent in you, that you have wonne the title of the humorous Lady by't; and drawn a scorne upon your selfe.

Stra.

Why then all's paid, and wellcome good Sir Raphael.

Ra.

I am not gone so; nor is all so payd:

For there's a greater reckoning yet of Raylings,

Reviling, Curses by the many that

Y'have scornd and slighted, shot at you in hot vollies.

Str.

They hit me not. I am sure I do not feele 'em.

R.

You may in time be sensible of their suffrings,

Whom you have violently, and willfully abus'd

With scorne and pride; if you call to mind

The cause, bred meerly out of humour; cause you would have it so.

[Page]Str.

You come too neare mee sir, cause I would have it so?

Ra.

Can it be otherwise? Has it not ever bin

Your practise, since your time of widow-hood

To catch all mens affections? Tis indeed

An honour to a Lady to have many suitors;

But to lay bait for 'em only to delude 'em—

Is impiously dishonorable.

Str.

Have I done so?

Ra.

Yes, and have gloried in it for your humour

To lead men into brakes with foolish fire.

Str.

If they will follow it, I cannot helpe it.

Ra.

You might though have prevented the mishaps

Of many, by a faire and free resistance

In the beginnings of their suits of Courtships,

And not to set your selfe at gaze to draw them on,

And then allure them with assured hopes

Of love and favour till you have wound their follies

Into the reach of your disdaine; and then

To torture 'em, or having ta'ne 'em captives

To slave and sell 'em to the worlds derision.

Str.

O sir Raphael—

Ra.

Shee feeles compunction!

I will pursue it to the quick.

Str.

On good Sir Raphael.

Ra.

Consider then good Madam, since I know,

And your own conscience knowes, that you have made

A secret vow from your late husbands death

Never to marry, how better and more glorious

It would be for your honor to declare

Your constant purpose to a single life,

Then to fall into the transgression

Of robbing men so of their wits and reason,

And all by willfull humor; as this late

Unhappy accident of madnesse in

[Page]The hopefull Knight Sir Ferdinando cryes

Lowdly to your disgrace, and the worlds sorrow.

Str.

Halfe the worlds sorrow is mine own

For that sad accident, I would I coold redeem't

With halfe my health or life. But let me tell you

(Now you have justly chidden me) that you

Have a fault too.

Ra.

What ist in your construction?

Str.

As I conceal'd my vow of single living,

And gave men leave to court me, by which meanes

I won them into hopes, and robd their wits,

You in declaring to the Court and City

Your vow of chastity and single life,

Yet dayly, nightly, howerly frequenting

The company of Ladies, with your sweet,

No lesse then grave discourse and conversation

Have rob'd (nay I may say deflowr'd) more Ladies

Of chast and honorable thoughts, then all

The cavalry of Court.

Ra.

Who I Madam!

Str.

Even you sir Raphael (if unchast desires

Must be held sinfull) I know some of them,

And one (I feare) too well, that have bin subject

Unto the breach of any vow for you,

Yet you to vow a single and chast life;

And publish your intent!

Ra.

Tis with intent,

And a religious purpose to decline,

And divert womans fond affections from me.

Str.

O, but forbidden things are womens longings!

You have read, you have read (sir Raphael) you have read.

Falls on her Couch.

La.

And travell'd too: yet never could discover

Such an example.

Str.

Pray sit down by me.

[Page]Ra.

Good thoughts possesse you Madam. I mus [...] hence.

Str.

I'le not be tedious to you. One word I pray sir?

Ra.

Vertue, be thou my armor. Briefly then

Let me intreat you Madam:

Str.

Pray refuse not

To sit downe by me.

Ra.

Sanctity protect me.

Sit.

Str.

Sir, you are famous, and cry'd up by all

For your great wisdome, Morall and Divine:

You are the Ipse dixit of the Court

As I have heard you stil'd by men of learning,

The Court Philosopher—

Ra.

Madam to the point.

Str.

What is our strength, and what is not our frailty?

Ra.

Where is shee wandering now? Bee playner Madam.

Str.

Doe not my blushes (which I hope you pardon)

Deliver you a message from my heart?

Which I want words to utter? O these vowes!

These rash and ill-made vowes! dos not your judgement

Read something on this face? pray look upon me.

Ra.

I am no good interpreter of looks.

Str.

I dare not speake, till you have first remov'd

A weighty scruple, which doth much perplexe me.

Ra.

You must first speake it Madam.

Str.

Whether these vowes,

(I meane your own, and mine, for single life)

May safely be dispens'd with or absolv'd,

And we become a lawfull paire in Marriage?

Pray sir resolve and blesse me in a Match.

Ra.

Madam I'le pray for you.

Starts up.

Str.

You will first kill me

With your disdaine, and then you'l pray for me!

Is that your Charity?

[Page]Ra.

I dare not heare you.

Str.

Leave me not so.

Ra.

Who waits upon my Lady here?

Exit.

Str.

I had no other way to shift him, would he would make

An errand now to Rome to quit my scruple;

And rid the Court of an officious foole:

Women some times have sent wise men to schoole.

Is the Knight gone?

Enter Philomel.

Ph.

And blessing of himselfe,

As witch-craft were i'th' house.

Str.

But where's my favorite Court-wit, has he brought his countrey Kinsman and the rest?

Ph.

They are all in your wit-office Madam (as you call the Roome)

Passing the time among the Pipes and Bottles,

And singing catches. Here you may heare 'em Madam.

A catch.

Str.

Marry, this takes past all sir Raphaels Lectures,

Goe call 'em downe.

Exit Phi.

This Madam troubles me, 'would he were right agen;

Or I quit of the scandall.

Enter Court-Swain, and Cit-wit.

O Gentlemen! y'are welcome,

And chiefly you that are the onely stranger,

I ha' been so troubled with an overtalking sir, that he

Has wound me into melancholly—

Swa.

I wish you mirth Madam. I come not as one o' you fooles to make you any though—

Offer to go away.

Str.

Be not so briefe with mee, let mee intreat you though.

Sw.

Forgi'me for swearing doe you mock me tho'?

Str.

Mistake me not sweet sir—

Sw.

Sweet with a mischiefe! How sweet am I? I come [Page] not as a suitor to your great Ladyship, I am a Gentleman of two hundred a yeare tho'.

Str.

Not as a suitor to me sir?

Sw.

No you are too great for me. Nor to your Mopsey without, though shee be snout-faire, and has some wit shee's too little for me, I understand degree and quality, respect and difference; and am scholler enough to know my unde and my quare.

Str.

You ga' me his true character. You are a compleat Gentleman sir (if I mistake not) the Kinsman of my favorite here, who has given me an ample relation of your worth and vertue.

Cou.

Yes, Patronesse, 'tis he, who though not throughly vers'd, or conversant i'th' Court or City garbe, he understands both Men and Manners.

Sw.

Prattle for your selfe sir.

Str.

But to the businesse Gentlemen.

Sw.

I that I would faine know if it be any.

Str.

You have heard I doubt not of a disastrous blot lately cast upon my fame, out of my owne freenesse.

Cit.

Concerning the Mad courtier Madam, when 'tis as likely, that his Taylor made him mad as you, for not hitting the fashion right in his last rich suit. But tis most like he fell from a reasonable man, by over-studying himselfe what Lord he should be at the next creation, whether of Gleek, or Cribbidge; In and in, or Hazard.

Sw.

Hearke how this shotten headed Cocks-combe prates! And how he, that can indure beating, dares speak any thing, or abuse all men! canst not give the Lady leave to speake tho'?

Str.

Since there is an aspersion layd upon my freenesse in giving entertainment unto persons of great and noble qua [...]ity, the world deeming it to be done by me meerly [Page] for ostentation, to cry my own humor up, by drawing them into Love-knots, and then to slight or scorne them: My resolution is from henceforth, to exclude those great resorts, and friendly and freely be merry within our selfes. I have foure thousand a yeare to spend; and will be huswife good enough to keepe in compasse. I will not entertaine a servant, friend or guest above your rank or fortunes—

Sw.

Why— (forgi'me for swearing) what do you think of us?

Str.

I thinke you Gentlemen of worth and quality: and therefore welcome. I thinke you able to maintaine your selfes midle-sis'd Gent.

Cit.

I am Midlesex indeed; borne i' th' City.

Sw.

Give the Lady leave to speake tho'.

Str.

I'le give accesse to none, that the censorious world shall dare to judge a suitor to me,

Or to finde favour further then meat and wine.

Sw.

Yes, faith a little money to; and make's your Fidlers.

Cit.

Pray give the Lady leave to speak though.

whew

Str.

Mauger the greatnesse of my former visitants

I give you my election for the chiefes

Of my familier society.

I may perhaps call in, (at least admit)

People of meaner garbe, without (I hope

Your grudge or envy. But they shall be men

Of Science, Art, and Action.

Sw.

Of action Madam? who do you meane? the Players?

Str.

Why not? I love their quality and them, and mean to have the use of some of 'em shortly: Besides Musitians (Poets in the first place) and Painters: In which last mention'd art I heare you are excellent, though all this while so silent.

[Page]Dai.

I boast no skill or practise Madam: but I have drawne some pieces that have been worth my paines in my Rewards.

Str.

I must commend their ingenuity for whom you tooke those paines. But (where I left) I must make use of wits, of arts, and actions.

Sw.

Here in your house Madam, I would be glad to see the Actors but I saw 'em at their own too lately: for I lost my purse there, no matter let it go. There was 15. pound in't tho!

Cit.

Sprecious! How now! my Fob has been fubd to day of six pieces, and a dozen shillings at least. Nothing but a bowd groat left as I hope for my Grannums blessing.

Cou.

Sure you have been in some ill company.

Cit.

Pox of ill company I say. My watch is gone out of my Pocket too o'th right side.

Dai.

You rose o' the wrong side to day it seemes, were you in no crowd or quarrell?

Cit.

I never was in any quarrell i'my life. I alwayes run from 'em.

Cou.

I dare sweare thou dost.

Cit.

I onely stood to day at the Coranto-shop to read the last great news; and I was hoop'd in I remember by some that seem'd to wonder as much as I.

Dai.

Then certainly there was a cut-purse amongst 'em.

Cit.

I'le go to honest Moll about it presently.

Sw.

But first stay and heare my Lady tho'.

Cou.

I Madam you were speaking of the use you would make of Poet, Painter, Musick, Actor and the like.

Str.

True favorite for a Masque that I intend to have shortly, you shall performe the poeticall part, your [Page] servant Citwit the Musicall. And by your skill and directions the Painters office for the scenes. Dancers and speakers I have in store.

Sw.

I must be something too tho', must I not Madam?

Str.

Marry and thanke you too sir.

Enter Philomel.

Now your Newes.

Phil.

Sir Andrew Mendicant desires to see you Madam.

Str.

You should have told him I would not be seene by him.

Ph.

I told him you were busy. But hee sayes hee is to speake with you upon a weighty businesse from the Court.

Str.

Tis the Court-begger. You know him favorite.

Goe not away, I'le bring him in amongst you,

And (as you love me) put some ridiculous projects to him.

Exit.

Dai.

What's that sir Andrew Mendicant? doe you know him well?

Cour.

Thou askest still a question like a guilty person, with a look resembling fear upon thy face.

Dai.

My countenance is too blame then; not my conscience.

Cit.

I'le tell you what he is.

Sw.

Still answering others questions?

Cit.

He is a Knight that hanckers about the Court, ambitious to make himselfe a Lord by begging. His braine is all Projects, and his soule nothing but Court-suits. He has begun more knavish suits at Court, then ever the Kings Taylor honestly finish'd, but never thriv'd by any: so that now hee's almost fallen from a Pallace B [...]gger to a spittle one. His businesse to my Lady now can be nothing but to borrow money to buy a paire of wheeles [Page] to set some Project a going to Court for a Monopoly.

Sw.

Thou wert in hast eene now to looke after th [...] money; but and thy Life lay on't thou must stay to abuse a man hehinde his back, who is a noble Gentleman thou knowst, and I have heard, yet (speake in thy conscience) wouldst thou not be beaten now?

Cou.

Forbeare, they come.

Enter Strangelove, Mendicant.

Str.

Sir, since it is requested by those great ones

Whose power cannot command me in this case

(For tis my charity and not my duty)

I am content that the mad Ferdinand

Shall sojourne in my house for his recovery.

Men.

Tis thought you were the ground-work of his frensy

The Doctors therefore mov'd their honours to it

For that your frequent presence may be helpfull

Towards his care.

Str.

He shall have it then

Towards the expiation of the crime

They charge me with. But in case sir Andrew

He should be cur'd by this meanes, I should then

Crosse you in fortune and your future hopes

Of his estate; which you have beg'd you say

If he recover not.

Men.

I must leave that to fortune Madam.

Str.

Will you be pleas'd sir to take notice of

These Gentlemen my friends. They may be usefull

Salute

For they have all projective braines I tell you.

Men.

Pray of what nature are your Projects Gentlemen?

Cou.

Sir my affection leanes much to Poetry, especialy the Drammatick.

Men.

Writing of strange Playes?

Cou.

I am glad I speake sir, to your understanding. [Page] And my project is that no Playes may be admitted to the Stage, but of their making who Professe or indeavour to live by the quality: That no Courtiers, Divines, Students at Law, Lawyers-clearks, Tradesmen or Prentises be allow'd to write 'em, nor the Works of any lay-Poet whatsoever to be receav'd to the Stage, though freely given unto the Actors, nay though any such Poet should give a summe of money with his Play, as with an Apprentice, unlesse the Author doe also become bound that it shall doe true and faithfull service for a whole Terme.

Men.

Here's a trim businesse towards, and as idle as the Players going to Law with their Poets.

Cou.

I have another sir, to procure a Patent for my selfe to have the onely priviledge to give instructions to all the actors in the City, (especially the younger sort) the better to enable them to speake their parts emphatically and to the life.

Men.

You were best take heede in time then that you well preserve your own voyce, for feare you doe a spoyle among 'em in teaching 'em to utter in unsavory tunes. Doe I come hither to be mock'd?

Sw.

Will you heare mine though? I am a Countrey Gentleman, young, healthfull and lusty. I heare complaints of barrennesse in the City; and of men that cannot get their wives with child; Get me but a Patent for't I'le undertake by my selfe and deputies (provided that the woman be sound and handsome) to make them multiply, and upon reasonable conditions: we will deale with the rich for money, and the poore for charity.

Men.

This is foolisher then tother. Doe you abuse me Gentlemen?

Sw.

Is that a wise man's question? you cannot tell th'o.

[Page]Cit.

We have our projects too Sir.

Men.

I would have yours first, you see me a civill and substantiall Gentleman.

Dai.

In more private if you please Sir.

Men.

I like well his reservednesse.

Dai.

Sir I am a Picture-drawer Limner, or Painter (if you please) and would gladly purchase authority, by my selfe and deputies, for the painting of all the Kings, and Q [...]enes-head signes for Tavernes, Innes, Ale houses, and all Houses and Shops of Trade throughout the Kingdome upon this ground that they draw and hang up their [...]yall Images for signes in so hideous manner that men blesse themselves to see'r.

Men.

I marry this hangs upon some ground. But are you an exquisite workeman in that art sir?

Dai.

I am an Artist in that mistery sir, and have drawn some of his Majesties Pictures (by coppy onely but) so to the life, that Gentlemen have kneel'd to 'em for suites, and knight-hoods.

Men.

Indeed sir!

Dai.

Yes sir, and great Lords I have pictur'd so powerfully, their own followers sodainly rushing into the room have started back and solemnly stood bare to 'em as they hung o'the walls.

Men.

Ist possible!

Dai.

I drew a sterne Judge, and a civill Lawyer so to the life, that after their corps were in the Grave, a man durst not looke upon their pictures without a bribe, or double fee in's hand.

Men.

I do admire you!

Dai.

I ha' drawn Ladies too, with that alluring beauty, that men have loy'd their dead pictures, for their painted lookes, more then their living persons for all their vertues.

Men.

Thou boy! introth you abuse me most merrily Gentlemen.

Goe.

[Page]Str.

An excellent fellow: I like him for that fancy more then all the rest.

Cit.

Pray heare my project too sir?

Str.

Yes good sir Andrew, you shall not part so abruptly.

Cit.

Mine is a good common wealths businesse, against the common Plague, that raignes i' th' City of Pickpockets, and Cut-purses. I my selfe ha' bin robb'd to day, and am going to a good member that deales in private for the recoveries of such goods: One that shall undertake if you'l but get a Patent, for a Cutpurse-hall, or Office, to helpe all men to their owne againe, allowing but the Tithes of their Losses, and freeing the offending parties.

Men.

Fie, fie. Here's tithing indeed.

Cit.

Provided that notice be brought to the Office within foure and twenty houres after any such losse.

Men.

Enough, enough.

Cit.

Wee may by the same course secure the Coun [...] too, and make the hangman hang himselfe.

Men.

Let every man be wise enough to looke to his purse, and there will be no Cut-purses, nor need of your patent.

Sw.

As wise a man as you may lose his purse tho', as I ha' done my selfe in a crow'd.

Men.

He puts me in mind of a crowd I was in once to day of company I lik'd not—ha—. For heaven 'tis gone: And I dare not discover it for being laught at.

Cou.

It seemes none of your Projects will passe with you sir Andrew.

Str.

Come sir, they are but (as you said) merry with you.

Men.

Be you merry with them good Madam, you know the serious worke I came about. In which [Page] I sodainly shall presume to give you a re-visite.

Str.

Pray do sir Andrew, bring your Mad-man. My garden Lodgings shall be his bedlem. Come gentlemen tis Dinner-time.

Cou.

We are your waiters Madam.

Exeunt Omnes.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter Philomel, Mendicant, Doctor.

Ph.

THese are the Lodgings, that my Lady appointed▪

For your distracted patient.

Men.

Like you 'em Doctor.

Doct.

Exceeding well. Excuse me Gentlewoman

That now intreat your absence.

Ph.

Willingly. I am not taken with the sight you bring

For I see mad-folkes enough every day.

Exit.

Doct.

Here set him downe. Unbind him, and unblind him.

Ferdinand brought in a chaire bound and hooded, &c.

Fer.

Am I then taken prisoner in the North?

Wounded, disarm'd and bound? I shall be ransom'd

To which of your rebelliously usurp'd

Castles ha' you brought me? you sir Presbiter,

That better can pugnare then orare,

And so abjure all duty and allegiance—

Men.

Hee takes you for a Northerne Pastor Mr. Doctor.

Doct.

No matter what, let him run out his fancy.

Fer.

You were best to use me well; and like a souldier

Order will else be tane (though you know none.)

[Page]Doct.

You shall have all best usage sir.

Fer.

And use my horse well too, and let my horse and armor

Be decently preserv'd and seene forth-comming

At my redemption.

Doct.

With all best care sir.

Fer.

For I shall soone be sent for, or fetch'd off

With ruine of your countrey 'bout your eares.

Doct.

You shall have all content the countrey yeilds sir.

Fer.

I shall have Oat-bread, Ale, and Bag-pipes, shall I?

Doct.

If you'l be merry sir.

Fer.

Merry! why not? come let's ha' cards; and you and I to cribbidge

For an od hundred pound, I meane not Scotch,

But sterling English pieces, where's your money?

All gone in Ammunition, and charge Military.

Doct.

I'le finde you money enough.

Fer.

O here's a third man, let's then to Gleeke.

Men.

Crown Gleeke sir, if you please.

Fer.

Crown Gleeke! no more?

You seeme to be a thrifty Covenanter

To play but at crowne Gleeke, whole piece Gleeke or nothing.

Men.

High as you please sir, wee'l find money enough,

And pay us but our buyings.

Fer.

Sir, you must bare mee Aces. You will play Tib and Tom.

Doct.

All i' the Cards sir.

Fer.

Away with cards. Bring dice, set all at hazard,

And though I lose all, I have yet a project

That at the end o'th' war, and the great sitting

Shall fetch all in agen. But O my Muse!

How dare I so neglect thy inspirations?

Give me Pen, Inke and Paper.

Doct.

All's ready.

[Page]Fer.

Now will I write, nor will I emulate

Ovids smoth vaine, or Petraks buskind stile.

Nor Laura, nor Corinna did deserve

To have their prayers written in such Verse

As i'le bestow on her that I adore.

Listen to me you blest Intelligences,

And, Phebus, stay thy course to heare me sing

Her prayses, for whose love th' inamor'd Gods

Would leave their proper seates, and in stolne shapes,

Converse with mortalls, your soule-ravishing spheres

Send forth your sweetest harmony whilst I sing—

But O shee is disdainfull; and her scorne

Hath blotted all the glory of her praise,

Away, away with all.

Doct.

Now sir, doe you observe the roote of his Disease?

Men.

I guesse at it, know you the remedy?

Fer.

Disease! what's that? who is diseas'd? who wants a Remedy?

Are you sir a Phisitian?

Men.

This Gentleman is, and brings you remedy, be you patient.

Doct.

O you will move him.

Fer.

You are a brace of Quacks,

That tie your knowledge unto dayes and houres

Mark'd out for good or ill i' th' Almanack.

Your best Receipts are candy for a cold;

And Carduus Benedictus for an ague,

Could you give life as Aesculapius

Did to unjustly slaine Hippolitus,

You could prescribe no remedy for me.

Goe study Gallen, and Hippocrates,

And when your rare simplicities have found

Simples to cure the Lunacy of Love,

Compose a potion, and administer't

[Page]Unto the Family at Amsterdam.

Doct.

I'le Phisick you to morrow and allay

The heate of this strong fit, or Leach it out.

Enter sir Raphael.

Ra.

I have venter'd to this house againe, assur'd

That now the humerous Lady is from home

Forgetting not her Love-trick put upon me

Which she already boasts to my disgrace

For which I may requite her Ladyship,

How dos your patient? a sleepe! That's well.

Men.

No hee's but silent sir, and it is well

That he is so, so long.

Ra.

The Lords in honorable regard unto

His health directed me to visite him.

Fer.

Who's that?

Ra.

Do you not know me sir?

Fre.

You are (I tak't) the Ghost of Dionisius

The great tirannicall Court-schole-master.

Ra.

Your Friends at Court commend them to you Sir.

Fer.

What hither, unto hell? Extend their loves

So far, to finde me out? Pray let 'em know

That here's a trobled world in want of Statesmen.

But tell the youthes and beauties there, they never

Shall finde a happier opportunity

To raise a new Plantation. They'l drive all

Before 'em here. For pride is at a stand;

Fashions are all worne out, and no invention

For new here to be found: all beauty's lost;

Nor have the greatest Ladies here the act

To make so much as their poore Chambermayds:

Let 'em come downe, as many of the Gallants

As are made weary of their Wives or Mistresses;

And, of those Wives and Mistresses, as many

As can their husbands, or their servants spare:

[Page]And what a yeare of Holy-dayes, a Jubile

Shall we have in hell then? Ha' old Lad!

Ra.

What a wilde fancie's this!

Doct.

Crosse it not good sir.

Ra.

Pray give mee leave to touch it though, a little.

Fer.

But above all, finde out the Lady Strangelove

That humorous Madam, and tell her from me,

The many Lovers shee has sent before her

Into these shades (where we can find no torments

Like those that shee inflicted) have prevail'd

With the great Queene Proserpina, that shee

Shall be in place next to her royall person.

Ra.

The Lady Strangelove! you are in her house sir,

Where doe you thinke you are? or who you are?

Pray call your selfe to mind sir, are not you

The noble Cavalier and hopefull Courtier

The most accomplish'd Knight sir Ferdinando?

Doct.

Forbeare sir, you will move him strongly else.

Ra.

I have authority for what I do sir,

Can you forget your selfe sir, or neglect

The bounteous fortunes, that the Court and Kingdome

Have in store for you, both for past Atchievments,

And for the large endowments of court-vertue

Are found still growing in you, studied and practis'd

So to the life, as if you were built up

Vertues own Mansion, on her foure firme pillars?—

Men.

I hope he cannot flatter him into's wits

When 'tis the way to foole men out of 'em.

Ra.

The Wisdome, Justice, Magnanimity,

And temperance of court you are exactly

Fram'd and compos'd of, and indued with all

The excelencies that may adorne a man

By Nature, Fortune, Art and Industry!

And all this glorious light to be eclips'd;

[Page]And such Divine perfections seeme to sleepe?

Fer.

Pray sir your eare.

Ra.

Sir, most attentively.

Fer.

What do you thinke of Salsbury steeple sir,

For a fit hunting speare t' incounter with

The whore of Babilion? might I not firke her thinke you?

Men.

Your Doctrine dos not edify sir Raphael.

Fer.

Is Oratour Demostines growne dumbe

O'th' sodaine? what! no answer? give me a Knife

He is but tongue-tied.

Ra:

Guard me Divinity.

Doct.

I told you what you would doe.

Men.

Patience good sir.

Fer.

Patience in tortures?

Doct.

Helpe here sodainly!

Enter Servants.

Fer.

Do you sally forth in troupes? Have I no troupe?

Give me my horse and armes, and come a hundred.

Doct.

Wee'l arme and horse you, since y'are so unruly,

Away with him into his Bed-chamber.

Fer.

O doe you make me then your Knight o' th' shire A tun o' Wine for that. Shoulder your Knight, advance your Knight, beare him out.

Manent Men.

Al.

A Ferdinand, a Ferdinand, &c.

sir Rap.

Men.

This now to me is Musick, Golden-chimes

That rings all in with an assur'd advantage,

How now Sir Raphael! Frighted?

Ra.

In all my disputations all my travailes,

And all conspiracies that have bin had

Aagainst me, never met I an incounter

By man, or spirit that I feard so much,

Yet here's another fury.

Enter Strangelove.

Str.

By what oppression or tiranny (for Law

[Page]I'm sure could never do't) is my house here

Confiscated or usurp'd, and I become your slave?

Men.

How Madam?

Str.

Your slave, lay your commands on mee, wh [...] drudgery doe you appoint me to?

Ra.

Shee's mad too.

Men.

Did not your Ladyship give way?

Str.

To make my house a hell?

The noyse of Bedlem is soft Musick to 't.

Could your Projectorship find no house else

To make a mad-man madder in but mine?

And me as mad as he too with the trouble.

Men.

I was no principle in't good Madam.

Exit.

Str.

Was it your plot then sir Philosophaster,

That so you might under pretext of reading

Philosophy to him, to cure his madnesse

Make your adresse to me to prosequte

Your Love-suite when I thought I had answer'd you,

But if you must proceede, o'recome me if you can,

Yet let me warne you to take heede withall

You pull not a disease unto you, that may

By your ungovern'd hast post into

Your grave: for I shall prove a torment to you,

Though you'l take no denyall, take yet a warning.

Ra.

I take it to forsake your house; and never

More to resort where madnesse raignes. Did I

Make love to you?

Str.

Pardon mee vertuous sir, it is my love to you that tortures mee into this wild distraction. O sit Raphael.

Ra.

Now vertue guide me. I will shun this place

More then I would the Spanish Inquisition.

Str.

I shall in time be rid of all such Guests,

And have the liberty of mine owne house

With mine own company, and to mine own ends

[Page]Where are you Phil? I were but dead if I had not this wench to foole withall sometimes.

Enter Phil.

Phil.

Madam.

Str.

I must be a little serious with you, shut the dore.

Phi.

Now am I call'd into correction,

When shee is vext and wants the company

Shee likes, then come I into question,

'Tis common among Ladies with their women.

Str.

Why that down looke, as if you meant to fetch

An answer, or excuse out of your Apron-strings

Before you are charged or question'd? what new faule

Has past of late?

Phi.

Doe you read any Madam

Upon my face or lookes? I never was in love

Much with my face, nor ever hated it. But if I thought

It had upon't, or in it, any trespasse

Against your Ladyship (my heart being cleare)

These Nayles should claw it out.

Teare.

Str.

Nay be not passionate Phil. I know you cannot

Forget the care I have had of you; nor should you

Distrust me in the promises I have made you,

Bearing your selfe according to your covenant Phil,

Of which one Article is to laugh with me.

Ph.

Go, you are such a Lady, ha, ha, ha.

Str.

Now thou comst to me wench: hadst forgot?

Phi.

You said you would be serious.

Str.

Dost not thou know my seriousnesse is to laugh in private,

And that thou art bound to stir that humour in me?

There's but two things more condition'd in thy service;

To do what I bid thee, and tell me the truth

In all things that I aske thee.

Phi.

I Madam, you had never known that same else.

[Page]Str.

Of the clap thou hadst i'the Countrey e're I took thee,

But hast thou faithfully kept thine own e're since?

Phi.

Yes most severely Madam on your promise—

Str.

Well we will have a husband then to solder up the old crack,

I have already made my choyce for you:

Your sweete-heart Cit-wit makes most suite to you,

And has a good Estate, and wit enough

Too for a husband, and a handsome person.

Phi.

I finde no fault in all that. But he is

So base a coward, that he may be soone

Beaten out of his wit and money.

Str.

But if he should prove valiant!

Phi.

If he were valiant now I could say something,

But to wait for growing to't were such a losse of time.

Str.

What say to Swayn-wit?

Phi.

Hee's the others extreame. I might feare him but never love him.

Str.

What think you of my speciall favorite Mr. Court-wit?

Phi.

As of a Courtier Madam, that has tasted

So much of all waters, that when he has a fountaine of his owne

Hee'l be too jealous of it.

And feard that every man will drink of's cup

When perhaps none dares touch it, were I it.

Str.

What say to Dainty then the curious Limner?

Phi.

I am bound from lying. Madam hee's the man.

Str.

Well i'le take thy cause in hand wench: But yet we are not merry. I am inclin'd most jovially to mirth me thinks. Pray Jove some good be towards. Laugh or i'le pinch you, till you doe.

Phi.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, Madam, ha, ha, ha. O the picture drawer! ha, ha, ha.

Str.

I, come, the Picture drawer.

Phi.

O, I love drawing and painting, as no Lady better, [Page] who for the most part are of their occupation that professe it. And shall I tell all Madam?

Str.

By all meanes Phil.—now shee's enter'd.

Phil.

I hope I am handsome enough too. For I have heard that Limners or Picture-drawers, doe covet to have the fairest and best featur'd wives, (or if not wives, Mistresses) that they can possibly purchace, to draw naked Pictures by, as of Diana, Venus, Andromeda, Leda, or the like, either vertuous or lascivious; whom they make to sit or stand naked in all the severall postures, and to lie as many wayes to helpe their art in drawing, who knowes how I may set his fancy a worke? and with modesty enough. We were all naked once, and must be so againe. I could sit for the naked Shepherdesse, with one Leg over the tother Knee, picking the Thorne out of her Foote most neatly, to make the Satyre peepe under.

Str.

Well thou shalt have him.

Boy.

Mistris Philomel.

Within.

Str.

Let in the Boy. Now sir your newes?

Boy.

The mad Knights Doctor Madam intreats to speake with you.

Str.

Now seekes he my assistance in his cure.

Boy.

And Mr. Court-wit, and the other Gentlemen are below.

Str.

Goe you and entertaine the Gentlemen, while I consult with the Doctor, let him enter.

Enter Doctor.

Now Mr. Doctor! you come to aske my counsell I know for your impatient Patient. But let me tell you first, the most learned Authors, that I can turne over; as Dioscorides, Avicen, Galen, and Hyppocrates are much discrepant in their opinions concerning the remedies for his disease.

Doct.

Madam—

[Page]Str.

Therefore I trust you'l pardon my weaknesse, if my opinion jumps not altogether with your judgement.

Doc.

Madam, my purpose was not—

Str.

My purpose is to advise you though, that, if his Frenzie proceed from love as you conjecture, that you administer of the rootes of Hellebore, destill'd together with Salt-peter, and the flowers of blind Netles, I'le give you the proportions, and the quantity is to take.

Doc.

Mistake not me good Madam—

Str.

But if his Malady grow out of ambition, and his over weening hopes of greatnesse (as I conjecture) then he may take a top of Cedar, or an Oake-apple is very soveraigne with the spirit of Hempseed.

Do.

Madam, I seeke no counsell in this case, my cunning is—

Str.

To let me know, that that part of my house which I allow you is too little for you.

Do.

Shee's surely mad.

Str.

But you must claime possession of the rest, You are come to warne me out on't; are you not?

Doc.

Mistake not so good Madam.

Str.

Or do you call my attendance on his person, by way of a Nurse-keeper? I can do little service.

Doc.

For my part Madam I am sorry we are made the trouble of your house, and rather wish me out on't then your favour. But if your Ladyship will bee pleas'd to entertaine with patience the little I have to say.

Stra.

Come to it quickly then.

Doc.

First, let me tell you Madam, as 'tis manifest

You were the cause of his distraction,

Y'are bound in charity to yeild such meanes

(With safety of your honor and estate)

As you may render for his restoration

VVhich of all the earthly meanes depends on you

[Page]If I know any thing in my profession.

Str.

Come to the point, you'ld have me visit him.

Doc.

True Madam: for a sight of you, shall more

Allure his reason to him, then all medicine

Can be prescrib'd.

Str.

By your favour sir, you say

Saving my honor and estate I am bound,

But may I with the safety of my Life,

And limbes, and a whole skin dare venture.

Doc.

My life o' that.

Str.

You might more safely lay

Lives of a hundred Patients.

Doc.

Now hee's calme,

Now shall he see you, but at most secure

And modest distance.

Str.

Come for once i'le trust you.

Exit.

Enter Swayn-wit, and Cit-wit.

Sw.

Come out into the Garden here; and let them talke within, I say he shall talke with her; and his belly full, and doe with her too, her belly full, for all thou: an honest discreet Gentleman, and thou a coward and a cockscombe. Besides he has an art and quality to live upon, and maintaine her Lady-like, when all thy money may be gone. And yet thou prat'st o' thy two thousand pound at use, when thou and thy money too are but an asse and's load tho'.

Cit.

Well, you may speake your pleasure. This is no cause to fight for.

Sw.

I'le make thee fight, or promise to fight with me, or somebody else before we part, or cut thee into pieces.

Enter Court-wit.

Cou.

But tell me seriously dost thou love my Ladies woman so well as to marry her, and suffer the Picture-drawer now to court her privately, and perhaps to draw and carry her from thee?

[Page]Cit.

Why he here will have it so you see, and pull'd mee out.

Sw.

It is to doe a cure upon thee, coward.

Cit.

Coward! pish! a common Name to men in buffe and feather. I scorne to answer to't.

Sw.

Why dost thou weare a Sword? only to hurt mens feet that kick thee?

Cou.

Nay you are too severe.

Sw.

Pray hold your peace. I'le jowle your heads together, and so beat ton with tother else. Why dost thou were a Sword I say?

Cit.

To fight when I see cause.

Cou.

Now he sayes something, yet, and may be curable.

Sw.

What is a cause to fight for?

Cit.

I am not to tell you that sir, It must be found out and given me before I ought to take notice.

Cou.

You may safely say for Religion, King or Countrey.

Sw.

Darst thou fight for Religion? say.

Cit.

Who that has any Religion will fight I say?

Sw.

I say thou hast none. Speake, hast thou any?

Cit.

Truly, in this wavering world I know not how to answer.

Sw.

La you. Hee'l say he has no King neither, rather then fight.

Cou.

Why if he will not fight for him he is no Subject, and no Subject no King.

Cit.

I thanke you sir, I would ha' said so.

Sw.

O thou wouldst make a speciall Souldier now!

Cit.

Well sir, all are not choyce doggs that run, some are taken in to make up the cry.

Sw.

And for thy Countrey, I dare sweare thou wouldst rather run it then fight for't.

Cit.

Run my Countrey I cannot, for I was borne i'the City. I am no clown to run my Countrey.

[Page]Sw.

Darst thou tell me of clowns thou cockney chicken-hearted whelp thou?

Cit.

Forbeare good sir, there are countrey Gentlemen as well as clownes, and for the rank I honour you.

Sw.

Sirrah you lie, strike me for that now; or I will beat thee abhominably.

Cou.

Up to him man: wilt thou suffer all?

Cit.

I would —but—

Sw.

You lie I say againe.

Cit.

I thinke I doe, I thinke I doe, and why should I maintaine an evill cause?

Sw.

The wench thou lov'st and doatest on is a whore.

Cit.

Sir, if she be 'tis not my fault, nor hers: somebody else made her so then I warrant you. But should another man tell me so!

Sw.

What then?

Cit.

I would say as much to him as to you. Nor indeed is any mans report of that a sufficient cause to provoke mee unlesse shee her selfe confess'd it, and then it were no cause at all.

Sw.

Here's a true City wit now.

Cit.

I should have wit sir, and am acounted a wit within the walls, I am sure my Father was Master of his company, and of the wisest company too i'the city.

Cou.

What company's that?

Cit.

The Salters sir. For sal sapit omnia you know.

Sw.

Your Father was a cuckold tho', and you the Son of a whore.

Cou.

Fight now or you'l die infamous, was your Mother a whore?

Sw.

Deny't and darst, say, was she not?

Cit.

Comparatively shee might be in respect of some holy woman, the Lady Ramsey, Mistris Katherine Stubbs and such, ha, ha. Is that a cause?

Cou.

What! not to say your Mother was a whore?

[Page]Cit.

He may say his pleasure, It hurts her not: shee is dead and gone. Besides, at the best shee was but a woman, and at the worst shee might have her frailties like other women. And is that a cause for mee to fight for the dead, when wee are forbidden to pray for'em?

Cou

But were your Mother living now, what would you say or doe?

Cit.

Why, I would civilly ask her if she were a whore? If she confess'd it, then he were in the right, and I ought not to fight against him: for my cause were naught. If she deny'd it, then he were in an error, and his cause were naught, and I would not fight, 'twere better he should live to repent his errour.

Sw.

Nay, now if I do not kill thee let me be hang'd for idlenesse.

Draw.

Cit.

Hold I am unprepar'd.

Sw.

I care not—unlesse thou sweare presently, and without all equivocation upon this sword—

Cit.

Scabberd and all I pray sir, The cover of the book is allowd in courts to sweare upon.

Sw.

Well sir, now you shall sweare to challenge the next that wrongs you.

sheathes it.

Cit.

Yes, if the wrong give me sufficient cause.

Cou.

Cause agen! suppose that fellow within should take your wench from you? which very likely he has done already: for I left 'em close on a couch together Kissing and —

Cit.

Gi' me the booke, i'le have her from him, or him from her if he be without her belly, or Kill him if he be within her.

Sw.

Tis well a cause may be found at last tho'.

Cou.

I like a man, whom neither Lie, Kick, Battoune, scandall, Friends, or Parents, the wrongs of Countrey, King or Religion can move, that will, yet, fight for his [Page] wench. Thou wilt be one of the stiffe blades o' the time I see.

Sw.

A wench is a moving cause:

Ʋnseen

Str.

Helpe, helpe, here helpe—ha—

Above.

Sw.

Why dost not draw and run in upon 'em?

Cit.

After you I will sir.

Sw.

A pox upon thee art thou down agen?

Cit.

No sir, I am drawn you see.

Str.

Help, help, a rape, a rape, murder, help!

Draw all

Sw. Cou.

Tis time to fly then.

Enter Dainty (his sword drawne) and Philomel.

Cit.

I come my Philomel.

Cou.

What's the matter Phil?

Dai.

What cry was that?

Sw.

Was it not you that caus'd it sir?

Phi.

Was it not here?

Cit.

Was it not you that cry'd?

Str.

Is there helpe, helpe, helpe?

Above.

Phi.

O tis my Lady in the Madmans chamber. Is her mirth come to this?

Sw.

Where, which way?

Phi.

Here, here the dore's made fast.

Exe. omnes

Sw.

I'le breake it open.

Pret. Cit. his sword drawn.

Doc.

Help here, help the Lady; help the Lady.

Doctor looks out above.

Cit.

We are a comming, you shall have help enough

I warrant, what's the matter? you shall not lack for help —

Florish his sword.

Fer.

Away Medusa. Hence, thou hast transformd me. Stone, stone, I am all stone. Bring morter and make a bul-wark of me.

Above unseen

Cit.

O that's the Mad-man! How madly he talkes!

Fer.

Hold me not down.

Cit.

Stones to make a bul-warke quoth a! If he had [Page] but to make a brace of Demy-culvering bullets, they were thumpers I thinke.

Fer.

Hold me not down, but reare me up, and make me my own statue.

Enter Strangelove, Swain-wit, Court-wit, Dainty. Phil.

Str.

Was ever such a practice?

Cou.

A meere accident of madnesse.

Str.

I say it was a practise in the Doctor.

Dai.

Yet he calld out for help.

Str.

You had broke up the dore first. That was but to colour his trechery.

Sw.

A new way, and a very learned one I promise you; to cure madnesse with a plaister of warme Lady-gutts.

Cit.

He would ha' had a mad bout with my Lady it seemes. He would ha' vented his madnes into her. And she could ha' drawn better then the Leaches.

Cou.

If you believe this Madam, tho' sir Ferdinand be by his madnesse excusable in the attempt, you ought to be reveng'd upon the Doctor.

Sw.

Let's cut him into pieces Madam.

Str.

I'le think upon some way to make him a dreadfull example to all the Pandarean Doctors i' the Towne. Come in Gentlemen, and helpe mee with your advices.

Cit.

You shall want no advise Madam. No strength,

Let's goe sir.

He snatcheth Phil. from Dainty, who took her by the arm.

Ph.

What mean you Mr. Cit-wit?

Cit.

I have sworne. Therefore I say no more, but I have sworne.

Exeunt Omnes;

[Page]

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Frederick Gabriel.

Fre.

THou art so honest, that I am asham'd

The vice of Anger blinded so my Reason,

As not to see through thy transparent breast

A true and noble heart; such as becomes

A Kinsman and a friend to her I love;

I can see now, and read thy integrity,

And, by the light of that th'inhumane false-hood

Of that Court-monster, that compacted piece

Of Rapine, pride and Lust.

Gab.

Yet this is he

That did aspire to be a glorious Courtier.

Fre.

Courtier? A meere vaine glorious imposture;

Pretending favour, having nothing lesse.

Witnesse his want of Merit. Merit only

It is that smoothes the brow of Majesty,

And takes the comfort of those precious beauties

Which shine from grace Divine: and hee's a Traytor

(No way to stand a courtier) that to feed

His Lusts, and Riots, works out of his Subjects

The meanes, by forging grants of the Kings favour.

Gab.

What my master has suffer'd by his forgeries

I know to be the Shipwrack even of all

Except his Daughter, and what his ayme at her

Was I thinke appeares to you; And what she might

Have suffer'd by't we both may guesse: onely we hope

Her vertue would have bin a guard to her beauty.

Fre.

Tis plaine he never lov'd her vertuously

[Page]That is fallen mad for another.

Gab.

That madnesse is his fate; which renders him into my masters hands to restore all agen. I, note the Justice of it.

Fre.

But as his fortune by the others ruine

Shall be advanc'd, I shall be more rejected.

Gab.

That foule mistrust much misbecomes a Love

Rejected sir? by whom? Charissa's constant to you,

And time will cleare his frownes: and put you on

Now, the same confidence you had before;

His wanting fortune rais'd a storme against you,

Your noble friend Sir Raphael has already

By learned reasons and court-oratory

Prevayl'd for you to visit her: and now

Y'are come within the verge o'th'house, do you shrinke?

See, a good Omen, they issue forth to meet you.

Enter Mendicant, sir Raphael, Charissa.

Men.

I'le heare no more on't sir, and am much sorry

That so much Lip-labour is spent already

Upon so vaine a Subject.

Give me leave then

To wonder at your light inconstancy,

Your want of resolution: yea of judgement.

Gab.

He is flown off agen.

Ra.

Did you not give me leave to send for him;

Who, now is come to tender his affection

Unto your Daughter?

Men.

Did not you first promise

Ferd: Char. and Gab. aside

To give assurance of fit joincture for her,

Proportionable to her dowry, which

You now are started from?

Ra.

I understood not

Nor can yet understand more of her dowry

Then a thousand pound which her Unkle left her,

And answerably to that I will make good her joincture.

[Page]Men.

O you are short sir,

I meane to make her worth ten thousand more

Out of my estate in the mad Ferdinand.

Another ten thousand to redeeme my Land,

Ten thousand more, i'le keep in bank for purchace.

Ra.

A judgement's fallen upon him: Hee's mad too;

Struck lunatique with his o're-weening hopes

Sprung from the others misery.

Men.

And so sir, as you came you may depart:

For 'lesse you bring a thousand pound per annum

T'assure upon her, shee's no wife for you.

Fre.

O sir, you had better left me in that peace

I lately slept in, without any hope

Of seeing her againe, then by your summons

To startle me back from a quiet death

To Kill me thus with Tantalizing tortures.

Men.

Thank then your learned friend, who fail'd me in

His undertaking for you, and for her

If walls and locks can hold her, she no more

Shall tantalize you.

Ra.

Wherein have I fail'd sir?

Men.

Sir, in assuring joincture to her Dowry.

Ra.

Sir to no possible dowry you can give her,

But you propound the estate you have i' th' Moon;

When shall you take possession, thinke you, of your

Lordship of Lunacy in the Cynthian Orbe?

Men.

I shall climbe thither sir without the helpe

Of your Heaven-scaling ladder of Philosophy.

Ra.

Nay then sir heare me.

Men.

What in private sir?

Fre.

Remember, sweet, your vow.

Cha.

Most constantly. And let mee conjure you by this.

Kisse.

Fre.

And this—

Cha.

That you forget not yours.

[Page]Gab.

Quick, quick! i'le stand before you.

Cha.

And time at length will point us out a meane [...]

After a short long-seeming separation

To meet and reunite our vowes and faiths

With greater strength and fervour.

Men.

Ha! i'le part you.

Was it for that you whisper'd, politick sir?

And couldst thou stand their screene? thou treacherous varlet out of my dores.

Gab.

For what offence?

Men.

Darst thou expostulate?

Thou death deserving Villaine.

Hurts him.

And Huswife get you in: you may depart sirs

Has your love blinded you? i'le lead you then.

Ra.

Madnesse at heighth.

Men.

Will you along!

Cha.

O sir you are unkinde.

Love then a wilfull father is lesse blind.

Exit.

Ra.

Friend, has he hurt thee?

Gab.

I am sure I bleed for't.

Ra.

Why how now Frederick? despaire not man.

He has vex'd me; and out of my vexation

Shall spring thy comfort. I will labour for thee,

I'le study nothing more then to beguile

This watchfull fury; this Hisperian Dragon.

Say to thy selfe and boldly shee's thine owne,

And for thy meanes, (Basta) let me alone.

Fre.

You are my noble Patron.

Gab.

Turn'd away:

As I was his servingman, I am rewarded;

Tis common with us creatures to serv'd so:

But, as I am no more his servant, I

Am free to vindicate my selfe out of

The wrong done to my blood (which is the same

With his,) by him rejected and despis'd.

[Page] Enter Cit-wit.

Cit.

Sir Andrew Mendicant at home?

Gab.

Not to be spoken with at this time sir.

Cit.

Pray let him know that the Lady Strangelove

Requires him sodainly to remove his Madman

Out of her house; or shee must take a course

Much to his disadvantage.

Gab.

In good time sir.

Cit.

This is a surly fellow, and tho' I have sworn

The humor of fighting is scarce warme in me yet,

And she advises him to find a better Doctor for him,

For this has taken a wrong course.

Gab.

Say you so sir?

Cit.

I'le tell't you as a secret. The Physitian thought to have cur'd his patient, (who has bin a notable Gamester at In and In) between my Ladies legs. If I and two or three more (but chiefly my selfe indeed) had not rescued her, the Doctor had held the Lady-cow to the Mad-bull.

Gab.

May I believe this?

Cit.

He thinks I lie now. And should he gi' me the lie, the vertue of my Oath were questionable.

Gab.

Is this upon your knowledge sir?

Cit.

True upon my life. So farewell honest friend.

Exit

Gab.

This may prove sport and businesse too.

Ra.

We will do something sodainly.

Gab.

What if you take me into that something too?

I guesse it is some stratagem to beguile

The cautious father of his injur'd daughter.

Ra.

This fellow will betray us.

Fre.

I will venter

[...]ll that I have, my fortune in Charissa

[...] his fidelity, sir his thoughts are mine.

Ra.

Cupid and Mercury favour our designe.

Ex. Om.

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ACT IV.SCENE II.

Enter Court-wit, and Doctor.

Cou.

YOur judgement (by your favour) Mr. Doctor

Much faild you in that case.

Doc.

Your reason yet may plead

Mine innocence, that drew her but to visit him.

Cou.

But that drew on his fury; and though reason

May argue much for you, shee can heare none,

Nor any understand: The swift affrightment

Upon her strength of passion, struck so deepe

A sense into her, that is has depriv'd her

Of all her proper senses. She is even mad sir.

Doc.

Not past my cure; and by a present meanes

Pray, win her hither to see a madder object

Then is her selfe, and see how that will worke.

Cou.

I'le gladly ad my paines unto your skill.

Exit.

Doc.

Come forth into the aire. Conduct him gently.

Enter Frederick with the servants.

Fre.

Into the aire! Set me upon Mount Lathmos,

Where I may see, and contemplate the beauty

Of my ador'd Diana; or carry me

Up to Hymettus top, Cytheron, Othris or Pindus

Where shee affects to walke and take the ayre;

Or tarry, stay, perhaps shee hunts to day

I' th' woods of Merathon, or Erymanthus.

Doc.

That's a long journey sir.

Fre.

Y'are a long bearded foole.

Doc.

I thought I had been a Phisitian. But sir

You shall not need t' expose your selfe to travell,

Your Goddesse will descend into this Garden,

Passe but time here a while and shee'l come to you.

Fre.

We will have joviall pastime. Shall we run

At base, or leape frog, or dance naked

To entertaine her, or what do you thinke

Of downe-right drinke and singing?

[Page]Doc.

That's best of all.

Fer.

Let's have a mad catch then.

Enter Court-Swaine. Strangelove.

Cou.

Here Madam may you see the Madmans Revels.

Sw.

And after that the Doctors Tragicomedy.

Fer.

Are not your wind pipes tun'd yet? Sing

A Catch.

So now a Dance, I am all ayre—Ahaigh—Ahaigh

I thanke thee Mercury that hast lent thy wings

Unto my feete. Play me my Countrey Dance,

Stand all you by. These Lasses and these Swaines

Are for my Company.

He Dances a conceited Countrey Dance, first doing his honours, then as leading forth his Lasse. He danceth both man and womans actions, as if the Dance consisted of two or three couples, at last as offring to Kisse his Lasse, hee fancies that they are all vanish'd, and espies Strangelove.

How now! all vanish'd, ha!

It is no mervaile that the lesser lights

Become obscur'd when Cynthia appeares,

Let me with Adoration fall before

Thy Deity great Goddesse.

Str.

Keepe him from me.

Sw.

You must approach no nearer sir. The Goddesse

Is not so confident in her Divinity

As to trust you in reach of her.

Cou.

Keepe back sir.

Fer.

What Hydras, Gorgons, and Chymaeras are you;

Centaures and Harpies that dare interpose

Between my hopes, and my felicity!

Cou.

Doctor, away with him.

Doc.

Carry him to his Chamber,

And hold him down. His raging fit is on him

Fer.

Was Night made to surprise men at Noon-day?

[Page]Or shall the charmes of Heccate take force

To dimne Appolle's brightnesse? So't must be,

When Gods themselves give way to Destine.

Exiunt with Ferd.

Sw.

They are enough to hold, and binde him too.

Swa. pulls back the Doctor.

Come you afore the Lady.

Doct.

What's her pleasure?

Sw.

Tis to do Justice upon thee O Doctor

Stirre, or cry out, or give the least resistance,

And I will cut thy head off before judgement.

Doct.

What outrage doe you intend?

Cou.

Outrage! Can you thinke of an outrage above the horror you offerd to this Lady, To violate her chastity? her honor?

Doct.

You cannot say so.

Sw.

Tis said, and you are guilty. Proceed to judgement Madam.

Str.

I first would heare your censures.

Enter Cit-wit.

Cit.

And mine among the rest good Madam. I have taken care that a new Doctor shall be brought. Therefore in the first place my censureis, that this be presently hang'd out o' the way.

Cou.

That's too high straind. What thinke you Madam, if to rectify his judgement, wee pick'd all the errours of his braine; First, opening the Pericranion, then take out the cerebrum; wash it in Albo vino, till it be throughy clens'd; and then—

Sw.

Pox o' your Albo vino, and his cerebrum taking out, that were a way to kill him. Wee must not be guily of the death of a Dogleach, but have him purg'd a safer way.

Str.

How? Proceed.

Sw.

We will fill his belly full of Whey, or Butter-milke, put him naked into a Hogs-head, then put into [Page] the same an hundred broken Urinalls, then close up the Vessell and roll your Garden with it.

Doct.

I trust they cannot meane any such mischiefe.

Str.

Hearke yee Gentlemen. Do you heare?

A Guelders horne.

Cit.

Yes Madam; tis a Sowgelder.

Str.

Fetch in that Minister of Justice.

Cit.

Who Madam? the Sowgelder?

Sw.

Wee'l make a Doctor guelder of him tho', and my Lady be so minded.

Cit.

That will be sport indeed.

Exit.

Cou.

But will you see the execution Madam?

Str.

Why not as well as other women have

Seene the dissections of Anotamies,

And executed men rip'd up and quarter'd?

This spectacle will be comicall to those.

Doct.

They dare not doe the thing they would have me feare.

Sw.

Now Doctor you look heavily methinks,

You shall be lighter by two stone presently.

Doct.

You will not murder me?

Sw.

Stirre not; nor make least noyse

As you hope ever to be heard agen.

Doct.

I would I could pray now to any purpose.

Enter Cit-wit, Guelder.

Cit.

I have brought him. The rarest fellow Madam,

And doe you thanke your fortune in him Doctor,

For he can sing a charme (he sayes) shall make

You feele no paine in your libbing or after it:

No Tooth-drawer, or Corne-cutter did ever worke

With so little feeling to a Patient.

Str.

Sing then, he shall not suffer without a Song.

Song.

Sw.

What must he be stript now; or will letting down his breeches be enough?

[Page]Doct.

You dare not use this violence upon me

More rude then rage of Prentices.

Cit.

Doctor it is decreed.

Doct.

You cannot answer it.

Cou.

Better by Law then you can the intent

Guelder whets his knife and all in preparation, Linnen, Bason, &c.

Of Rape upon the Lady.

Doct.

That was not to have beene my act, nor was it done.

Sw.

When this is done wee'l talke w' ye, come lay him crosse this Table. Hold each of you a Leg of him, and hold you your peace Dodipoll. And for his armes let me alone, do you work Guelder.

Doct.

Hold, I have a secret to deliver to my Lady.

Sw.

You shall be deliver'd of your secrets presently.

Doct.

If I tell her not that shall give her pardon

Then let me suffer. Heare me sweet Madam.

Str.

Forbeare him, let him down.

Sw.

Sweet sayst? Thou art not i'le be sworne.

Str.

Well sir your weighty secret now to save your trifles.

Doc.

In private I beseech you Madam: for I dare but whisper't.

Str.

You shall allow me so much warinesse as to have one at least to be my Guard, and witnesse.

Doc.

This Gentleman then Madam.

Cit.

We are shut out of councell.

Sw.

No matter. I list not be no nearer him: no more wou'd my cozen had he my nose. But where's Mr. Dainty and your finicall Mistris Phil all this while tho'?

Cit.

No matter, but I ha' sworn you know. Therefore I say no more, but I have sworn.

Cou.

VVhat a strange tale is this! I can't believe it.

Str.

I doe, and did before suspect it: and fram'd this counterfet plot upon you, Doctor, to worke out the [Page] discovery: would I ha' seene you guelt dee think? That would have renderd mee more brutish then the women Barbers. Looke sir this is no Guelder, but one of my house Musick. (Goe, your part is done —

Exit.

And for th' affright you gave me, Doctor, I am evenw'ye.

Sw.

The Devill fright him next for a spurging, skitter-brooke. 'T were good you would call to burne some perfumes Madam.

Str.

But for the secret you have told me i'le keepe it secret yet, I will keepe you so too; and from your Patient.

Enter Boy.

There's a new Docter come already Madam to the madman.

Str.

From sir Andrew Mendicant?

Boy

His servant brought him.

Doc.

I pray what Doctor is it?

Str.

Ingage your selfe with no desire to know,

But, for the good you finde, fit thanks to owe;

So come with me, and come you Gentlemen.

Ex. Omnes

ACT IV.SCENE III.

Enter Frederick in a Doctors habit, Gabriel with two swords under his cloake, Ferdinand upon a Bed bound, and held down by servants.

Fer.

HEape yet more Mountaines, Mountaines upon

Mountaines, Pindus on Ossa, Atlas on Olympus,

I'le carry that which carries Heaven, do you

But lay't upon me!

Fre.

Forbeare you'l stifle him,

Take off the needlesse weight of your rude bodies;

Unbind him and stand off, to give him ayre.

Ser.

Sir though you are a Phisitian, I am no foole. [Page] Take heede what you doe. Hee's more then six of [...] hold when his hot fit's upon him. He would now teare you to pieces should you let him loose.

Fer.

The danger then be mine. Let him sit up. Is not he civill now?

Ser.

I, for how long? do you note that Hercules eye there?

Fre.

I charge you quit the roome.

Ser.

'Tis but to come agen when we are call'd.

Fre.

Be not within the hearing of a call,

Or if you chance to heare me, though I cry

Murder, I charge you come not at me.

Ser.

Tis but a Doctor out o' the way; and that's no losse while there are so many, the best cannot live by the worst.

Fre.

Keep the dore fast. You are much mist abroad sir,

And chiefly by the Ladies, who now want

The Court-ships, Banquets, and the costly presents

In which you wonted to abound to 'em.

Ferd.

Ha—

Fre.

Nay, nay, sit still sir. They say y'are mad;

Mad with conceit of being a favorite

Before your time, that is, before you had merit

More then a tumour of vaine-glory in you,

And in especiall care for your recovery

I am sent to administer unto you: but first

To let you blood.

Dagger.

Ferd.

Ho! Murder, Murder, Murder.

Fre.

Are you so sensible already? do not stirre

Nor cry too loud. Dos the meere apprehension

Of blood-letting affright your madnesse? Then

Reason may come agen.

Ferd.

The Battaile of Musleborough Field was a brave one.

Fre.

O do you fly out agen?

[Page]Ferd.

Sings part of the old Song, and acts it madly.

Fre.

This is pretty: but back from the purpose.

He sings agen.

Fre.

Will you come to the point sir?

Ferdinand sings agen.

Fre.

We but lose time in this sir: Though it be good testimony of your memory in an old Song. But do you know me?

Ferd.

Not know my Soveraigne Lord? Curs'd be those Knees, and hearts that fall not prostrate at his Feete.

Fre.

This wild submission no way mittigates

My wrongs, or alters resolution in me

To Cure or Kill you quickly. Do you know me now sir?

Or have you known Charissa? do you start sir?

Off his beard & gown.

There's signe of reason in you then: But bee't

By reason or by chance, that you awake

Out of your frantick slumber, to perceive me,

My cause and my Revenge is still the same,

Which I will prosecute according to

My certaine wrong, and not your doubtfull reason,

Since reasonlesse you layd those wrongs upon me

When you were counted wise, great, valiant, and what not

That cryes a Courtier up, and gives him power

To trample on his betters.

Ferd.

Who talkes this mortall to? I am a spirit.

Fre.

Sure I shall finde you flesh, and penetrable.

Ferd.

I would but live to subdue the Pisidians,

And so to bring the Lydians under tribute—

Fre.

You would but live t'abuse more credulous fathers

With courtly promises, and golden hopes

For your own lustfull ends upon their Daughters.

Thinke (if you can thinke now) upon Charissa.

Charissa who was mine, in faith and honour

Till you ignobly (which is damnably)

By a false promise with intent to whore her

[Page]Diverted her weake Father from the Match

To my eternall losse. Now whether you

Have wit or no wit to deny't, or stand to't,

Or whether you have one, or ten mens strength,

Or all, or none at all i'le fight or Kill you

Yet like a Gentleman, i'le call upon you

Throw away his dags.

Give me the Swords. They are of equall length

Take you free choyce.

Ferd.

Pish.

Run back.

Fre.

I cast that to you then. Hand it, or die a Madman.

Ferd.

O ho, ho, ho,—

Gab.

All this sir to a Madam.

Fre.

I have a cause to be more mad then he,

And in that cause i'le fight.

Gab.

He knowes not what you tell him.

Fre.

I tell't the Devill in him then to divulge it

When I have dispossest him. I have further

Reason to kill him yet, to crosse your Master,

VVho has beg'd his Estate. Now fight or die a Madman.

Ferd.

Hold Frederick hold. Thou hast indeed awak'd

Me to see thee and my selfe.

Gab.

Hee's not so mad to fight yet I see that.

Fre.

I'm glad you are your selfe sir, I shall fight

Now upon honorable tearmes, and could

Suppose before your madnesse counterfeit.

Ferd.

Yet hold. Has Mendicant beg'd me?

Fre.

During your madnesse. VVhat should hinder him?

Ferd.

Put up thy Sword.

Fre.

Upon no tearmes, and you alive.

Ferd.

Not to obtaine Charissa?

Fre.

As you Guest sir.

Ferd.

It shall be by meanes if gold can win

[Page]Her Fathers grant.

Fre.

That's most unquestionable.

Ferd.

Not that I dare not fight, doe I urge this,

But that the other is your safer way.

Fre.

Your gold's too light. I will accept of nothing

From you while you dare tell me you dare fight,

Perhaps you doubt of ods, goe forth. Nay I

VVill lock him out.

Gab.

You may: For I dare trust you while I go call the Lady.

Exit.

Fre.

Now are you pleas'd, or dare you now to fight sir?

Ferd.

I neither will nor dare fight in this cause.

Fre.

This is a daring Courtier!

How durst you wind your selfe in so much danger?

And why take madnesse in you, to be bound,

And grapled with so rudely?

Ferd.

Keepe my councell,

And take Charissa.

Fre.

Tis a faire condition.

Ferd.

First, for the wrong I did thee, noble youth

In my designe against Charissa's honour,

It is confess'd, repented; and her selfe

For satisfaction to be given to thee,

I'le fall upon thy Sword else, or be posted,

And Ballated with all disgrace.

Fre.

VVell yet.

Ferd.

And for my shew of madnesse; 'twas put on

For my revenge on this impetuous Lady

To coole these flames (as much of anger as

Desire) with her disdaine, and tempting malice

Had rais'd within mee.

Fre.

You would have ravish'd her.

Ferd.

I rather thought, she like a cunning Lady

VVould have consented to a Madman, who

She might presume could not impeach her honor

[Page]By least detection. Monkeyes, Fooles, and Madmen,

That cannot blab, or must not be believ'd

Receave strange favours.

Fre.

And on that presumption

You fain'd your madnesse.

Ferd.

True.

Fre.

But rather then to faile,

With your bawd Doctors helpe you would ha' forc'd her:

And that's the councell you would have me keep

On your assurance of Charissa to me:

That your proceeding in your madnesse here,

May yet finde meanes and opportunity

To exercise your violence.

Ferd.

Suppose so.

Fre.

Thou art not worth my Killing now.

Justice will marke thee for the Hangmans Office:

Nor, were Charissa in thy gift, were shee,

In that, worth mine or any good acceptance,

And for your councell, had within there Madam.

Ferd.

Frederick—

Fre.

The Lady of the house! where are you?

VVill you be pleas'd to heare a secret Madam?

Strangely discover'd?

Enter Strangelove, Gabriel, Doctor.

Str.

I doe not sl [...]ght your act in the discovery,

But your imposture sir, and beastly practise

VVas before whisper'd to me by your Doctor

To save his Epididamies.

Doct.

O your pardon.

Fred.

I am disgrac'd, undone.

Str.

Tis in my power

To make you the perpetuall shame of Court;

And will assuredly doe't, if you comply not

VVith me to make this injur'd Gentlemans fortune

In his belov'd Charissa.

[Page]Ferd.

Madam most readily, I have offer'd it.

Sw.

I have forecast the way and meanes already:

Which we must prosecute with art and speed▪

Good ends oft times doe bad intents succeede.

Ferd.

I'le be directed by you.

Fre.

Noblest Lady.

Exeunt Omnes.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter Swayn-wit, Court-wit, Cit-wit.

Sw.

COme Sir, must I take you in hand agen?

Cit.

My Lady will convery her Madman to sir Andrew Mendicants it seemes.

Sw.

Tell mee that I know not; and answer my questions.

Cit.

Shee and the Doctor, and the tother Doctor's gone with him too.

Sw.

Leave you by flim flams, and speake to the purpose.

Cit.

You know I ha' sworne. Doe you not know I ha' sworne?

Sw.

To live and die a beaten Asse; a coward hast thou not?

Cou.

Prethee forbeare him: Hee's not worth thy anger.

Sw.

Anger! Is every Schoole-master angry that gives Discipline with correction?

Cit.

Would he were at Pensans agen.

Sw.

Didst not thou tell my Lady that I was a coward in my own Countrey, and Kick'd out of Cornewall?

[Page]Cit.

Comparatively I thinke I did in respect of Corineus, that wrastled and threw Giant after Giant over the cliffs into the Sea.

Sw.

Pox o' your comparative lies; And didst not thou say that he here was pepper'd so full o' the whatsha callums, that his spittle would poyson a Dog or a Rat?

Cit.

That was comparatively too in respect of a pure Virgin; a chrisome child or so.

Cou.

He never shall move me, I forgive him.

Cit.

Meerly comparatively I speake it.

Sw.

Forgi' mee for swearing i'le make thee speake positively, or beat thee superlatively before I ha' done with thee.

Enter Boy.

Boy.

Gentlemen, my Lady—

Sw.

Hold a little. Didst thou not say this child here was a Pickpocket? and that he pickt thine of thy money, and thy watch, when he was singing betweene thy Leggs to day?

Boy.

Who I a Pick-pocket?

Flies at him.

Cit.

Forbeare good Lady it was comparatively.

Boy.

A pick pocket?

Cou.

Forbeare and hear him Hercules.

Boy.

Lend me a sword i'le kill him, and heare him afterwards.

Cou.

Nay I must hold you then. How was hee comparatively your Pick-pocket?

Cit.

That is as much as any man I know; That is I accuse nobody; that is all are as innocent as the child, and hee as the innocent unborne. And let that satisfy you.

Boy.

Live. I am satisfied. Now Gentlemen my Lady prayes you to follow her to sir Andrew Mendicants.

[Page]Cou.

I know the businesse, 'Tis about our Revells.

Sw.

Suffer a child to beat thee!

Cou.

His cause was bad you know.

Sw.

Incorrigible coward! Say now; art not thou thy selfe a pick-pocket, and a cut-purse? say.

Cit.

Comparatively it may be said, I am to a Church-warden, a Collector for the poore or such.

Sw.

The conclusion is, that if ever I heare thou mentionst my name agen in any sense whatsoever, i'le beat thee out of reason.

Cit.

In my good wishes, and prayers I may: Heaven forbid else.

Sw.

Not in your prayers sir, shall you mention me, you were better never pray.

Cit.

Heaven forbid I should then!

Sw.

And make thine Oath good on that slie fellow that has taine away thy wench, or—

Cit.

He has not tane her yet.

Cou.

You ha' not seene her or him these two houres; has not my Lady call'd too, and shee not to be found?

Cit.

True, true: and if I be not reveng'd.

Sw.

Do't then now, while thou art hot. Shee comes, here take, and keepe her while thou art hot and hast her.

Enter Philomel and Dainty.

Phi.

Is she at your dispose sir?

Court takes aside with Dainty.

Cit.

Your Lady gave you me.

Phi.

Or am in her gift?

Cit.

You are in my possession, nor shall Lucifer dispossesse me of her.

Phi.

So valiant on a sodaine!

Cit.

Have I not cause?

Phi.

You'l have me with all faults?

Cit.

Yes, and a match forever.

Kisse.

[Page]Sw.

How meanes shee by all faults?

Cit.

A word shee alwayes uses in waggery.

Cou.

By all meanes take her from him. What! affraid of a coward?

Sw.

You must do't or take the share, hee should ha' had a down-right beating. Forgi' me for swearing, hee's a veryer coward then tother.

Cou.

Hee will serve the better to flesh him. And do but note his tiranicall rage that is the vanquisher.

Sw.

You will on.

Dai.

Sir shee is mine by promise.

Cit.

Shee's mine by act and deed sir according to the flesh, let her deny't and she can.

Dai.

That shall be try'd by Law.

Cit.

By Law of armes and hands it shall, take that, and let her goe.

Dai.

Beare witnesse Gentlemen he struck me.

Phi.

O pittifull Picture-drawer!

Cit.

Will you not draw? I will then.

Draw.

Dai.

What would you have sir? If shee be yours take her.

Cit.

That's not enough, I will make thee fight, what blindnesse have I liv'd in! I would not but be valiant to be Cesar.

Cou.

O brave Cit, O brave Cit.

Sw.

Why dost not draw thou fellow thou?

Dai.

Shee's his he sayes; and she denies it not, shall I fight against him for his own?

Cit.

I'le make thee fight, or cut thee into pieces.

Cou.

He turnes your words over to him.

Cit.

VVhy dost thou weare a sword? onely to hurt mens feet that Kick thee?

Kick.

Cou.

Doe you observe? Nay thou art too severe.

Cit.

Pray hold your peace, i'le jowle your heads together and so beat [...]on with tother else.

[Page]Sw.

Forgi' me for swearing. Hee'l beat's all anon.

Cit.

VVhy dost thou weare a Sword I say?

Dai.

Some other time sir, and in fitter place.

Cit.

Sirrah you lie, strike me for that, or I will beat thee abominably.

Dai.

You see this Gentlemen.

Phi.

And I see't too, was ever poor wench so couzend in a man?

Cit.

The wench thou lov'st and doat'st on is a whore.

Phi.

How's that?

Cit.

No, no, That was not right, your father was a cuckold tho', and you the sonne of a whore.

Sw.

Good, I shall love this fellow.

Dai.

I can take all this upon account.

Cit.

You count all this is true then. Incorrigible coward! what was the last vile name you call'd mee Mr. Swain-wit? O I remember, sirrah thou art a Pickpocket and a Cut-purse; And gi' me my money agen, and him his or I will cut thy throat.

Dai.

I am discover'd.

Cit.

Doe you answer nothing, doe you demurre upon't?

Dai.

Hold sir I pray; Gentlemen so you will grant me pardon, and forbeare the Law i'le answer you.

Cou. Sw.

Agreed, agreed.

Dai.

It is confess'd; I am a Cut-purse.

Cit.

Comparatively or positively doe you speake?

Speake positively, or I will beat thee superlatively.

Sw.

Forgi' me for swearing a brave Boy.

Dai.

Here is your VVatch, and Money; And here is yours. Now as you are Gentlemen use no extremity.

Cou.

Beyond all expectation!

Sw.

All thought.

Cit.

Miraculous! O the effects of valour!

Phi.

Was ever woman so mistaken o' both sides?

[Page]Sw.

But dost thou thinke thou art valiant for all this tho'?

Cit.

You were best try; or you, or both, or come all three.

Sw.

I sweare thou shalt have it to keepe up while thou art up.

Cit.

Is this your picture-drawing? are you the Kings Picture-drawer? A neat denomination for a Cut-purse, that drawes the Kings Pictures out of men Pockets.

Cou.

Come sir, come in with us.

Dai.

Pray use me Kindly Gentlemen.

Cit.

Yes, wee will use you in your kind sir.

Takes Phil by the hand. Exeunt Omnes.

ACT. V.SCENE II.

Enter Mendicant, a Letter in his hand.

Men.

THis is the day of my felicity,

And is the same with that the Poet Sings

Is better then an Age. Come forth Charissa,

Enter Charissa.

Now you appeare my comfort; and I can

No lesse then thanke thy sweet obedience

That hast comply'd with my directions,

Bride-like and glorious to meet a fortune,

So great as shall beget the present envy

Of all the Virgin Ladies of the Court,

And a posterity, that through all ages,

Shall praise and magnify thy act.

Cha.

Your acceptation of my duty sir

Is all that I can glory in.

Men.

How are we bound unto this noble Lady

[Page]That sent us our instructions.

Cha.

Sure I am. If this be a true Coppy.

Men.

Let Musick in her soft but sweetest notes

Usher their welcome, whilst unto my thoughts

Musick

The lowdest harmony resounds my triumph.

Enter Doctor, and Fred. in Doctors habit, Strange. Priest, Ferd. in the chair as before borne by servants, Fab. as one of the servants.

Madam most welcome.

Str.

In fewest and the softest words sir Andrew.

(He sleepes) and let him gently be convey'd

Onely with those about him to his Chamber.

Men.

Charissa, go: be you his conduct, softly, softly,

I see y'ave brought a Priest Madam.

Ext. Om. Pret.

Str.

By all best reason,

Mend. & Strang.

For when we found he us'd Charissa's Name,

When he was calme and gentle, calling still

Charissa! where's Charissa? a good space

Before he slept, and being then demanded

What would he with Charissa? He most readily

Reply'd, Fetch me Charissa and a Priest.

The Doctors in their judgements (unto which

My full opinion assented) might

Foresee, that in removing him, where she

Might be his immediat object, when he wakes,

That fresher flames to instant marriage

Would then arise.

Men.

Incomparably judicious Madam.

Str.

Yet not without your leave would I attempt it;

Without your leave, knowing your watchfull care

Over your Daughter.

Men.

And that care of mine

Was (Madam) by your favour

Principall motive to this great effect.

[Page]Str.

Take all unto your selfe, I am content.

Men.

I'd faine steale in and watch th' event of things.

Str.

But have you heard sir Andrew the mischance

Of the unfortunate Lover, distracted Frederick?

Men.

How! what of him?

Str.

H'has made himselfe away.

Men.

Ist possible?

Str.

(Hee has by this time, or the Priest is tongue-ty'd.)

Men.

He has left no estate worth begging, that's the worst of't.

My joyes come flowing no me —yet I would see.

Str.

And heare me good Sir Andrew, for the Love

I bring to ad unto your joyes: for I

Foreseeing the event of this nights happinesse

Have warn'd some friends to follow me with Revells

To celebrate the Marriage of your fortunes.

See they are come. Pray entertaine 'em sir.

Enter Court. Swayn. Cit-wit, Dainty, Phil. Boy.

Men.

The Gallants that were to day so merry with mee.

Str.

The same: but very harmelesse.

Cit.

All but one sir. Did you not lose your purse to day?

Str.

What's the meaning?

Cou. Sw.

Wee'l tell you Madam.

Men.

My purse? (I mist it at my Lady Strangeloves.)

Cit.

This Picture-drawer drew it, and has drawne more of the Kings-pictures then all the Limners in the Towne. Restore it sirrah.

Men.

I will not take it, 'twas my nelect that lost it, not he that stole it. This is my day of fortune; it comes home to me; more then I dare receive. O my joyes, let me be able to containe you.

[Page]Cit.

Ha' you another purse to lose?

Men.

I have a purse; which if I lose, i'le blame my selfe, none else.

Cit.

Let him but come so neare you as to aske forgivenesse for the last, and if he doe not take the next, though it be six fadome deepe i' your pocket i'le hang for him when his time comes.

Men.

I'le watch his fingers for that.

Sit.

Cou.

Observe good Madam.

Dai.

Sir at your feet I beg your pardon.

Men.

It needs not, prithee rise.

Dai.

Never, till you pronounce that happy word

I pardon thee: or let me have some token

Of sweet assurance that I am forgiven

Which I beseech you—I beseech you grant.

Men.

In sooth thou hast it. Heaven pardon thee as I doe.

Dai.

I have it sit indeed, and as your gift i'le keepe it, promising before all these witnesses, i'le never venter for another.

Men.

Fore me an expert fellow; Pitty he should be hang'd before we have more of his breed.

Cit.

Did not I tell you sir? And these are but his short armes; i'le undertake, when he makes a long arme, he shall take a purse twelve skore off.

Men.

I doe not like Thieves handfell though, This may presage some greater losse at hand.

Sw.

Now Gentlemen you know your taske, be expeditious in't.

Cou.

I have cast the designe for't already Madam. My inventions are all flame and spirit. But you can expect no great matter to be done extempore or in six minutes.

Sw.

What matter ist so wee skip up and downe? our friend Jack Dainty here, Mr. Cut-purse dances daintily tho'.

[Page]Str.

And Mr. Cit-wit, you have worthily wonne my woman sir.

Cit.

I have her Madam, she is mine.

Str.

I'le make her worth a thousand pound to you, besides all she has of her own.

Cit.

Her faults and all Madam, we are agreed o' that.

Phi.

Suppose this Boy be mine.

Cit.

I would he were else, that I might have him under lawfull correction, and the cause o' my side: for he beat me not long since.

Boy.

And you be my father, and do not make much of me and give me fine things, i'le beat you agen so I will; and my mother shall helpe me.

Cit.

Agree'd Billy, agreed Philly. Never was man so sodainly, so rich; Nay never looke Gentlemen, shee is mine, and hee's mine own, I am sure I ha' got him now; And all faults are salv'd.

Sw.

Her word in waggery is made good in earnest now tho'.

Str.

To your busines Gentlemen; if you have a

They consult.

short speech or two, the boy's a prety Actor; and his mother can play her part; women-Actors now grow in request. Sir Andrew! melancholly?

Men.

I was thinking on the omen of my purse.

Court draws his Tables and retires to Phil, writes & sometimes shewes her.

Str.

Fear no further mishap sir; tis ominous to feare.

Men.

Pray let's go in and see how things proceed.

Str.

Pray give mee leave to make the first discovery;

Walke downe into the Garden, i'le come to you;

And here are some would speak with you.

Ex. severally.

Enter two Projectors.

1.

Into the Garden, good, let's follow him.

2.

Tis not the repulse he gave us in the morning shall quit him of us.

[Page]1.

No now his superintendent's turn'd away, wee'l once more fill his head with millions.

Exit.

Dai.

I'le make the Dance, and give you all the footing.

Practise footing.

Sw.

Stand further off o' my Pocket tho'.

Cit.

No matter if we lose any thing, and he within ten miles of us i'le make him answer't.

Dai.

I want a fift man, I would have an od.

Enter Doctor.

Doc.

The Marriage is perform'd. The Priest has done his office—

Sw.

Doctor can you dance?

Doc.

And sing too, I ha' forgot much else.

Phi.

I'le speak the Speech: Ha' not I forgot my Actors tone tro? I shal remember't, I could have acted 'em all ore.

Boy:

I can speak a Speech too Mother, must I call you Mother now?

Phi.

I my Boy, now I dare vouch thee.

Doc.

What think you of this tune sir for your dance?

Tay dee, dee, &c.

Dai.

I'le borow a Violl and take it of you instantly.

Ex.

Enter sir Raphael.

Pray sir, is sir Andrew Mendicant i' the house.

To Court-w.

Cou.

Umh—

He writes in his tables sometimes scratching his head, as pumping his Muse.

Is he within sir, can you tell? He's too busie it seemes.

Can you tell me sir I pray, if sir Andrew be within?

To Cit-wit as he mov'd toward him, Cit-wit Dances looking on his Feete, &c.

Very strange! among what Nation am I arriv'd?

Here's one in civill habit sure will answer me,

Sir may I be inform'd by you? saw you sir Andrew?

Ra.

Te precor domine Doctor.

He sings on.

The Doctor stretches his Throat in the Tune.

They are no Christians sure.

[Page]Sir may I be inform'd by you?

To Swayn. He whistels & Dances Sellingers round, or the like.

Blesse me; the people are bewitch'd.

Enter Dainty.

Do you belong to the house sir?

To Dainty, he fidls to him & the 4 dancing & singing practise about him.

I hope for curtesie here Lady wil you be pleas'd—

To Phil. she speaks in a vile tone like a Player.

Phi.

O by no meanes, we must speake Charon faire,

Or hee'l not waft us o're the Stigian Floud,

Then must we have a sop for Cerberus

To stop his yawning Chaps; Let me alone

To be your Convoy to Elizium.

Ra.

This is most heathenish of all.

Dainty playes softly & Doctor with him aside.

Phi.

I'le pass that snarling triple-headed Cur

Which keeps the pallace-gate of Pluto's Court,

And guide you safe through pitchy Acheron.

Ra.

What Woman Monster's this? Sweete young Gentleman, let me aske you a question.

Boy.

Grim death, why rather didst thou not approach

My younger dayes; before I knew thy feares?

Thy paines are multiplied by our yeares.

Ra.

All Lunatick? or Gentlemen, do you want leasure

Or civility to answer me?

Cit.

Ha' you done the speeches Mr. Court wit?

Cou.

I have already from the forked top

Of high Parnassus fetcht 'em.

Cit.

And shall my wife and Billi boy speake 'em?

Cou.

As i'le instruct you.

Cit.

You write admirably I confesse; But you have an ill tone to instruct in; I'le read to 'em my selfe, you give your words no grace.

Doc.

You have the tune right, will you instruct the Musick men?

Dai.

And you all in the Dance imediately.

[Page]Sw.

But shall we have no silken things, no whim whams

To Dance in tho'.

Cit.

Perhaps the Bride can furnish us.

Sw.

With some of her old Petticotes, can she?

Phi.

No, no my Lady has tane care for all.

Dai.

Come, come away to practise, and be ready.

Exe. Om. Fidling, Footing, Singing, Acting, &c.

Ra.

Never was I in such a Wildernesse.

But my revenge upon Sir Mendicant

Shall answer all my patience, in the Jeere

I meane to put upon him.

I will possesse him with a braine-trick, now, wherein

A meere invention of mine own

Heaven pardon me for lying) shall so nettle him.

Enter Mendicant, and Projecters.

Men.

Goe back and be not seene till I come to you.

Ex. Pro.

Ra.

Hee's come. Ha' you heard the newes sir Andrew?

Men.

What sir Raphael?

Ra.

That Ferdinand's restor'd to's wits.

Men.

I am glad on't.

Ra.

Do you take the losse of his estate so mildly

Which might ha' bin your own?

Men.

I hope you thinke mee a Christian sir, but how should he arrive at such a sodaine knowledge of it, if it be so? I will pretend tis true, yes sir, he is in's wits.

Ra.

I thought I had ly'd when I did prophesie:

But sir my Nephew Fredrick—

Men.

Has made himselfe away, I heard o' that too.

Ra.

(I hope not so) yet there's another accident

Of which you have not heard, may touch you nearer,

And that indeed's my businesse, you sir, furiously

Wounded your Man to day.

Men.

Not dangerously I hope.

Ra.

Flatter not so your selfe; Hee's on the point of dying.

[Page]Men.

How!

Ra.

Nor be too much dejected,

His life you may get off for (as 'twas done

In heat of blood) marry sir your estate

(You'l pardon me) is beg'd; my selfe has don't,

And therein, beg'd the Begger.

Men.

Ha!

Ra.

Take not too deepe a sense of it: For if you'l yeild

That Frederick yet shall have it with your Daughter,

I will remit the Estate.

Men.

O is it so?

Do you move this for a dead man?

Ra.

No, he lives.

Men.

Do you practise on me? Madam where are

Enter Strange. Ferd. Fred. Charissa. Gabriel behind.

Str.

Here sir, and am become your Usher to such guests you?

As you must bid most welcome.

Mend. stands amaz'd

Ra.

She here! i'm then agen confounded.

Str.

Nay sir Raphael, I potest we will be friends notwithstanding I have outstript you in your plot of matching your Nephew Frederick, here to his love Charissa.

Ra.

But is it so?—

Fred.

It is, in which I hope sir you are not offended,

Who gave me leave by any opportunity

To take her, I broke no locks nor walls for her.

Cha.

I beg your pardon, and your blessing sir.

Ra.

And is it so with you sir Ferdinand?

Ferd.

It is, and sir in testimony of my recovery, I make demand of my estate: of which you thought your selfe possest.

Men.

What hopes am I fallen from? and what misery fallen into; when the little I have is beg'd for Man-slaughter!

[Page]Gab.

I quit you of that sir.

Men

How couldst thou deale so with me?

Gab.

To shew my gratitude.

You overpaid me for all my former services,

For which I justly thought I ought you this.

Ferd.

Nor thinke your Daughter undervalued sir,

Three thousand pound I give him to augment

Her fortune in him.

Men.

Dreames, dreames, All these are waking Dreames.

Ferd.

All reall truth sir, whither flie you from us?

Men.

Am I of all defeated; and by all

Abus'd and mock'd? More roome there: let mee goe.

Ferd.

You mistake strangely.

Florish.

Str.

Harke! the Revellers.

Fer.

That come to celebrate your joyes, which wilfully

You will not apprehend.

Men.

Tis all but shew, Let go, and I will do

Something shall ad to your delight imediatly.

Exit.

Str.

Let him goe and weare out his fit by himselfe.

Florish.

Enter Boy, and Philomel, as Cupid and Venus.

Boy.

Venus and Cupid, my Mother and I—

Helpe me.—I have it now.

Venus and Cupid; my Mother and I

Helpe me agen; Noe, no, no.

Venus and Cupid; my Mother and I,

Let me alone.

Venus and Cupid my Mother and I.

Fred.

There's an Actor now!

Fre.

How doubtfull of himselfe; and yet how perfect he was!

Ra.

A selfe mistrust is a sure step to Knowledge.

[Page]

[...]

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[...]

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[...]

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[...]

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[...]

[Page]Str.

Sententious sir Raphel.

Ra.

Quarrells are ended Madam.

Ferd.

Come hither Cupid.

Phi.

From my Italian Mount I did espy

(For what is hidden from a Deity?)

How faintly Hymen did his Office here

Joyning two Lovers with the hand of feare;

Putting his Torch out for obscurity;

And made the Chamber (which belongs to me)

His Temple. But from hence let feare remove.

See here, the Champions for the Queene of Love.

Courage 11 Swain, sent from Mars; The Muses22 Court.kill.

From wise Apollo. And the God, which still

Inspires with subtilty, sly Mercury

Sends this his Agent 33 Dainty.. Here's Activity 44 Cit-wit.

From Jupiter 5Doctor himselfe; And from her store

Of Spies, the Moon sends This to keepe the dore.

With Art of Action, now, make good the place,

In right of Love to give the Nuptialls Grace.

After they have Danc'd a while, Enter Projectors, breakes 'em off.

Pro.

Lay by your Jolity, forbeare your Sport,

And heare a story shall inforce your pitty.

Fer.

What black Tragedian's this?

Ra.

Some Nuntius sent from Hell.

Ga.

One of my Masters Minions, a Projector.

Pro.

You had a Master: But to all I speake.

Your [...]actises have sunk him from the Comforts

Of all [...]is hopes in fortune, to the Gulfe

Of deepe despaire; from whence he rose inflam'd

[Page]With wild distraction and phantastick fury.

Fer.

Hee's mad; is he?

Pro.

Mad, and has hang'd himselfe—

Cha.

Alas my Father.

La.

How! hang'd himselfe?

Pro.

All over sir, with draughts of Projects, Suits,

Petitions, Grants, and Pattents, such as were

The Studies and the Labours of his Life,

And so attir'd he thinks himselfe well arm'd

T'incounter all your scornes.

Enter Mendicant attir'd all in Patents; A Windmill on his head, and the other Projector.

Men.

Roome here: a Hall for a Monopolist,

You, Common-wealths informers lead me on.

Bring me before the great Assembly. See,

Fathers Conscript, I present all I have

For you to cancell.

Sw.

Here's a brave shew, and out-shines our devise.

Men.

This is a Patent for the taking of poor John and Barrell-cod alive, and so to preserve 'em in salt-water for the benefit of the Fishmongers.

Cou.

There's salt in this.

Sw.

I this has some savour in't.

Men.

This is a fresh one sir, For the catching, preservation, and transportation of Butter-flies: whereby they may become a native commodity.

Cou.

That's a subtle one.

Men.

This is for profits out of all the Common-Cryes i' th' City, As of—Oysters—Codlings—wood to cleave, Kitching stuffe, and the thousand more, even [...]o the Matches for your Tinder-box, and all Forrainers [...]o pay double; And a Fee out of the Link-boyes profits. [...]t no cries to escape. Tis for a peace.

[Page]Dai.

What if some should cry Murder, murder?

Cit.

Or Theeves, theeves?

Cou.

Or Fire, fire?

Sw.

Or women cry out five Loves a penny?

Men.

All all should pay. But I submit

My selfe to you most honorable censure.

Cit.

What dos he take us for?

Sw.

Powers, Powers; A lower house at least.

Men.

And all my patents to be conceal'd.

Sw.

Our Projects would not take with you, wee'l take yours tho'.

Dai.

He shall dance out of 'em: Musick! Play out our Dance, we will disrobe you presently.

Cit.

Yes, and dismantle his Projectors too.

They all Dance. In the Dance they pull off his Patents; And the Projectors Clokes, who appeare all ragged. At the end of the Dance the Projectors thrust forth.

Fer.

An excellent Morrall! The Projects are all cancel'd, and the Projectors turnd out o' dores.

Men.

True Gallants, and now I am my selfe agen,

I saw th'event of all with good esteeme.

And would as well as you a Madman seeme,

And now my blessings on your Son and Daughter.

Sw.

This Bride, Dame Venus here, cooles all this while tho'.

Dai.

By Mr: Bride-groomes leave, i'le stirre her blood a little for the good meaning shee had towards me.

Cit.

You may doe so. He dare's not pick her pocket,

And for her Maidenhead I dare trust him tho' he should

Dance quite out of sight with her.

Dance.

While they Dance the rest confer.

Ra.

'Tis well: And all are friends.

Fer.

You have my potestation: and in that,

[Page]Madam, my faith before these noble friends.

Str.

Upon those honourable tearmes sir Ferdinando I will be yours.

Cit.

Sheel' have him, it seemes at last.

Sw.

Shee's a wise widdow by't: for sure enough, she saw something in his mad naked fit, when hee put her to't, to choose a husband by, wo' not out of her thought yet.

What is there more to say now Madam?

Str.

You question well.

Sw.

But to Supper and to bed?

Str.

You consider well.

Sw.

We have had other pastime enough.

Str.

You reason well, Would all were pleas'd as well

T' absolve that doubt, to those we must appeale.

FINIS.

EPILOGUE.

[Page]

Strang.

LAdyes, your suffrages I chiefly crave

For th'humble Poet. Tis in you to save

Him, from the rigorous censure of the rest,

May you give grace as y'are with Beauty blest.

True: Hee's no dandling on a Courtly lap,

Yet may obtaine a smile, if not a clap.

Ferd.

I'm at the Cavaliers. Heroick spirits,

That know both to reward, and atchieve merits,

Do, like the Sun-beames, vertuously dispense

Ʋpon the lowest growths their influence,

As well as on the lofty: our Poet so

By your Phebean favours hopes to grow.

Cit-w.

And now you generous spirits of the City

That are no lesse in money then braine wity,

My selfe, my Bride, and pretty Bride-boy too,

Our Poet for a Boun preferres to you.

Phil.

And though you tast of no such Bride-ale Cup,

He hopes y' allow the Match to be clapt up.

Boy.

And, if this Play be naught (yes so he said)

That I should gi' yee my Mother for a Mayd.

Swa.

And why you now? or you? or you? I'le speak enough for you all, you now would tell the Audients they should not feare to throng hither the next day: for you wil secure their Purses cut-free, and their pockts pick-free. Tis much for you to do tho'. And you would say that all [Page] your projects are put down, and you'l take up no new: but what shall be (spectators) to please you. And you Poetick part induces you, t'appologize now for the Poet too, as they ha' done already, you to the Ladies, you to the Cavaliers and Gentry; you to the City friend, and all for the Poet, Poet, Poet, when alls but begging tho. I'le speak to 'em all, and to my Countrey folkes too if here be any o'em: and yet not beg for the Poet tho', why should we? has not he money for his doings? and the best price too? because we would ha' the best: And if it be not, why so? The Poet has shewd his wit and we our manners. But to stand beg, beg for reputation for one that has no countenance to carry it, and must ha' money is such a Pastime!—If it were for one of the great and curious Poets that give these Playes as the Prologue said, and money too, to have 'em acted; For them, indeed, we are bound to ply for an applause. Because they look for nothing else, and scorn to beg for themselves. But then you'l say those Playes are not given to you; you pay as much for your seats at them as at these, though you sit nere the merrier, nor rise the wiser, they are so above common understanding; and tho' you see for your love you will judge for your money, why so for that too, you may. But take heed you displease not the Ladies tho' who are their partiall judges, being brib'd by flattering verses to commend their Playes; for whose faire cause, and by their powerfull voyces to be cry'd up wits o' Court, the right worshipfull Poets boast to have made those enterludes, when for ought you know they bought 'em of Universitie Scholars tho', and onely shew their own wits in owning other mens; and that but as they are like neither. As thus, do you like that Song? yes. I made it. Is that Scene or that Jest good? Yes, Twas mine; and then if all be good 'twas all mine. There's wit in that now. But this small Poet vents none but his own, and his by whose care [Page] and directions this Stage is govern'd, who has for many yeares both in his fathers dayes, and since directed Poets to write & Players to speak, till he traind up these youths here to what they are now. I some of 'em from before they were able to say a grace of two lines long to have more parts in their pates then would fill so many Dry-fats. And to be serious with you, if after all this, by the venemous practise of some, who study nothing more then his destruction, he should faile us, both Poets and Players would be at losse in Reputation. But this is from our Poet agen, who tels you plainly all the helps he has or desires; And let me tell you he has made prety merry Jigges that ha' pleas'd a many. As (le'me see) th' Antipodes, and (oh I shall never forget) Tom Hoyden o' Tanton Deane. Hee'l bring him hither very shortly in a new Motion, and in a new paire o' slops and new nether-stocks as briske as a Body-lowse in a new Pasture.

Meane while, if you like this, or not, why so?

You may be pleas' to clap at parting tho'.

FINIS.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

The court begger a comedie acted at the Cock-pit by His Majesties servants, anno 1632 / written by Richard Brome.

Brome, Richard, d. 1652?

Edition statement

1653

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A29634

ID [STC]

Wing B4867

ID [STC]

ESTC R202038

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

11670724

ID [OCLC]

ocm 11670724

ID [VID]

48055

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A29634)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 48055)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1480:3)

Source

— The court begger a comedie acted at the Cock-pit by His Majesties servants, anno 1632 / written by Richard Brome., Brome, Richard, d. 1652?.

Extent

[92] p.

Printed for Richard Marriot and Tho. Dring and are to be sold at their shops ...,. London :: 1653.. (Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.)

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