SCEN. I.

The SCENE, Learcut's House.

What life this has put into her! the very apprehension of this same harlotry matter makes her as nimble as an Eele riggling in the mud. Well, I have brought you twice together now, if you part again, I shall have an ill conceit of my labour.

Make haste to Thomas and tell him I'm in Bed: Those were the words. Is all this ado for Thomas? Were you so hasty you could not unlace your self, but you must cut? Did you for this tear off your Handkerchief, because I could not unpin it fast enough? Must Thomas handsel your new Linnen? Will a fit of Mirth with him cure you of a Nine years Melancholy? Well, well, little would any one think it were in her; but I'le watch your water: for Thomas, I Faith, I know he'l be constant to his poor Bell, that gave him two yards of Ferret Ribbond t'other day for a pair of Shoe-strings. As I am very Woman, look where he is! he talks to himself too: I'le hide my self, and find it out.

The Old One's laid; now if the Young One were, my work were ended: but what do I deserve for my contrivance? what reward must I expect for all the Wit I have expended in [Page 13] this business? I shall, at least, be Steward when they keep house; then will I take Poundage for all the Bills I pay, besides my New-Years-Gifts: or say, he give me one of his Ships; I, I, I, that's most likely; for he'l never trouble himself with such Lumber: then will I Trade into the Straits, and in three years be an Alder­man — But Thomas, Thomas, what if a Turks Man of War take her, what wilt thou do then? No, there's Mortality in one Ship— he will give me two, and with those two I'le defie Mahomet of Algiers—But suppose he gives me all the Ships — Yes, yes, I'm sure he will give me all the Ships; how shall I bestow 'em then? Let me see, let me see— Yes it shall be so— I will way-lay the Spanish Carrukes coming from the Indies, and master em. But whom should I intrust with the Command of this Fleet? for I dare not look Salt Water in the Face my self, since an Innes of Court Man stal'd on me out of a Tavern Window once: if I should trust it to one and he should cheat me, and keep all to himself, what a pickle were I in then? No, no, I must find out some other expedient.

So soon vanished?

What's the reason, tro? he's gone down stairs, though that's not the way to her: Well Thomas, well, the case is altered, and may be again shortly: then good Isbel mend my Stockins, and sweet Isbel look my Head, and we'l go to Islington, and drink Ale in an Arbour: is there no Faith in Sugar-Cakes and Cream? Are Custards and Cheese-cakes hollow-hearted? Well, I faith I'le be coyer then I have been for this trick. Go thy ways, thou should'st never have kiss'd me as thou hast done, if I thought thou wouldst have served me so: but what's done is done, and cannot be helped.

Here he comes again, ha! what Gallant is that with him?

Sir, this way.

Tread softly, for fear my Master hear you.

Why, he's almost asleep at best, for he's somewhat deaf: Both his Eyes and Ears are lock [...]d fast enough now I believe.

I, but you must think a man who has waded in oppression these Fifty or Threescore years has some Monitors, that give his conscience an Item, when he offers to wink.

I'le let em pass, but I'le observe em narrowly.

You are sure she has no manner of light in her Chamber.

But her light Heart I warrant you.

Have we any more Rooms to go through before We come at hers?

She lies in the very same Chamber she did when you Woo'd her: the blew Room on the right hand Sir.

Faith 'tis so long ago, I've almost forgotten it. Id Almost spoyl'd all: good night Thomas, I'le grope out the Bed My selfe.

My pretty Bell I'le tell thee; thy Mistresses Husband having [Page 14] been outed his Free Tenement, is newly gone to make his entry on it.

Is that Mr. Manley?

The very Hee.

Truly he's a handsom Gentleman: 'tis a thousand pities—

What, a thousand pities that he's a handsom Gentleman?

No, but that he should not live with her: I warrant he's A good Comforter.

Good words, good words, and not too loud for fear of di­sturbing the young Couple; if this noise should make the Gentle­man miscarry, 'twould be no small grief to your Daughter.

Well, Sir, not taking notice at present of an Action of Slander, but desiring you to keep those termes to your self, to be as short as you have been with me, Your travelling Son-in-Law, having followed the track of Sir Francis Drake's Ship, is return­ed hither again; and now Vlysses is with his Penelope.

SCEN. I. A Bed-Chamber, Mrs. Manley running in, in Night-Cloaths, Hazzard after her.

Sir here's an Attendant of yours, a wise Maid that knows the smack of her Mistresses Pallate, and gives a shrewd guess at the sharpness of yours, has brought you a Repairer of Falling Nature, and your Father-in-law is in the next Room, who Desires to be inform'd, whether your Wife have breath enough left to ask him blessing.

SCEN. I. A Chamber with a Bed in it.

The SCENE, Learcut's House.

SCENE Learcuts House.

Alas! the Story's short: Your Father's dead. He would needs take water in a Sculler; And to save part of the Charges, going to row, overturned the Boat upon a Buoy: he had a thousand Guinneys in his pocket, which were too powerful for his Age, so his money weigh'd him down, and Heaven knows whither it has carried him. You may well think I did what I was able to have saved him; but it was his destiny! Yet he had the comfort, which no other Usurrer ever had, to have his Gold go with him.

Now what would this whining fellow have? How now, Thomas, you hear the sad News Thomas?

Yes Sir, I heard it to my grief, for having to no purpose search'd all day after your Man, I went in a Melancholly humour to the labour in vain, and condoling your Worships misfortune over two pots of Ale, a dismal voice Croaked out, my Masters death. Oh, Oh, Oh!

Alas poor Thomas, we must all die!

I have heard a great many say so, but they were all▪ Parsons, Sir, Yet now me thinks I believe it too: And Die of such a death, Sir, and in such a place, where he shall ne­ver be at rest, but rowl up and down with the Tide, till one rave­nous Fish make a Leg of him travel on an errand to Bermudos, [Page 34] another lead him by one Arm to China, Oh it is lamentable, and makes me continually cry and howl.

I have bespoke one, Sir, and a dozen of Muckanders.

Look who knocks at door.

I Sir, who's there?

Is Mrs Manly within?

Yes, Sir, please to come in.

Save you, Sir, is your name Mr. Manly?

Yes, Sir, to serve you.

I'm glad to see you safe, Sir, but the Corps of the old man you left behind you was taken up at the Isle of Doggs, his body lay 'oth' shore as I passed by there. I was inform'd he was your Father in Law.

He was Sir.

Understanding his Relation to a Gentleman of your Nobleness, my Piety commanded me to cloath him in a wooden Suit, and bring him hither to you.

I will go kiss him all over e're he's buried.

Spare your pains, Sir, 'twill be unnecessary, for the Coffin is nail'd up, and hoop'd with Iron.

You have shewed much Humanity in this Action. Sir, I beseech you, do not rob us of your company, till you have Finish'd that civility you have begun, leave him not now, till you have left him in the Earth.

Take Order for his Funeral this Night, we must make hast with him to perform the Will of the Dead, which was ever You know to save Tavern Charges; invite all the Neighbours, and all's Acquaintance to assist our mourning; will you please to follow?

I wait on you.

SCEN. I. Mr. Manley newly Landed.

WHat a Megrim I have in my head! The world is ve­ry merry, as I passed along the Trees and Hills danced Trenchmore. Catch me at Sea again, and divide me among the Mackrel, hang me, if the tempest be not yet in my brains, well I'm glad I'm at my Journeys end. I hope Hazard hath thriven well, I was impatient to know it, and that made me hasten speedily after him; here's the Cloyster where my Wife's mew'd up, and that the door where those lights are! what's the matter tro? Those Torches speak a Funeral, pray heaven she be safe.

I'le ask, it is less difficult to bear a danger, then 'tis to instruct it; come hither boy, whose buried from that House?

'Tis Mr. Learcut Sir.

Ha, boy! prethee speak that again.

'Tis Mr. Learcut.

There's a Crown for thy News boy.

Thank you, Sir, would you please to know any thing else I can tell you?

Yes prethee, how, and when died he?

He was Drown'd yesterday.

Troth Sir, I know not but I heard my Master say, his Daughter was to have all.

There's an Angel boy.

Sure the Gentleman's distracted.

Sirra, I'le set thee up, Rogue, thou shalt be free of Guild-Hall. I'le change thy Apron into a Gold-Chain; thou shalt talk to Gentlemen with thy Hatt on, come tell more good news, how does his Daughter resent it.

What's that Sir.

How doth she base it Knave?

Very sadly, 'tis said Sir, and the servants of the house say she would do much worse, but that she is cheer'd up by her Husband.

Ha Boy!

By her Husband Sir, that came very rich from beyond Sea lately.

Give me my money again boy.

Excuse me for that Sir, my Father was a Gentlemans Falconer, and he told me the first Principle of Hawking was Hold-fast, if you are upon that lock, Farwell Sir.

Nay, friend, I shall take advice from your Father too, for holding fast, and keep you here a little longer.

O Lord Sir, for heavens sake, my Master will hang me for staying.

And Ile cut your throat, if you offer to stir; this shakes me, if Hazard have served me an old trick of Trustees, and entr'd my Freehold for his own use. I'm rarely serv'd—yet if he would have don't, I have such high proofs of her Loyalty I know't impossible! Yet woman though she be a fine thing must be charily kept from touching, or she will crack like a China dish, with a little blow. It may be he hath assur'd her of my death, and so hath wrought her well, be what will, I am resolv'd I'le not appear till the solemnity be over, come Sirrah, get me a room where I may see the Funeral march by, her'es t'other Crown for you.

I Sir, with all my heart, but beg pardon of my Master for me, hee'l rant like a Corporal.

SCEN. II. In Learcut's-House.

MAke hast up to Isbel quickly, there's an old toothless Lady that feels the Burnt-Wine needs no chewing, has mumbled the Silver Flaggon full, and calls for more still.

And there's the Seamans wife, that sits next to her has wept out the bowl twice fill'd in telling a mournful story, how her first Husband was wrackt 'oth' sands for want of water.

A curse on her old dun Chapps! where the Devil does she find Stowage for all she swallows?

Marry, hang her! shee's Hogs-head risen in the Waste. These women of a Dutch built are all Hold, within two inches of their Port-holes, both a low and abaft.

Nurse, here's no body here but I now.

Here Andrew quickly clap this under the Stairs, and let my Son carry't home when he comes.

I warrant you, by this light, 'tis as hot as a smoothing Iron, now fill me mine speedily that I may be Jogging.

Fly, fly Andrew, they are ready to Choak for want of you, in the back Chamber there's the Grocers daughter stands licking her lipps at the empty Goblet, like a Horse founder'd upon all four, and rocks her self from one Legg to tother.

I'm there already.

More Wine for the Lords sake, there's a Feltmakers Wife within, come out of Southwark, that inveighs against intempe­rance, she has sipt off my Lading in her declamation, and is now fallen into a new discourse over Andrews. I'le say this for her, she keeps close to her Text still. [Page 38] Dispatch me, Nurse this Pot will hold'em some play.

The Women are all serv'd, George into the Chamber where the Corps are, the Gentlemen will be soon run over, for they are most of 'em Sack drinkers, but have a care of the Con­stable, and be sure you fill him a brimmer, or hee'l call twice.

The best way to please him, is to set the Pot to his Nose,

Prethee Nurse, quench me with a bowl of the sweetest. I am so dry, I shall take fire else.

Truly these burials are very comfortable things, they are tricks to make men do good works after their death, here Nurse, give me my charge now a bigger bowl for the Servingmen as you love me, they have breath that will suck like whirl-pools.

SCEN. III. Learcuts House.

ARt thou sure 'twas he?

Am I sure you are not he? He was in the very Cloaths you gave him first, leaning out of the Tavern window one pair of Stairs high towards the Street with a Tobacco-pipe in his mouth.

Take that for thy discovery.

—I'le make thee more famous then Columbus, boy Call Vnderwitt hither to me.

Is the Gentleman so hasty? Is he jealous? 'Twas an oversight in me to leave money with him. Had I only taken order for his Diet he might have stay'd there yet, and not like an unmannerly Cuckold have interrupted me in my banquet on his Spouse. Wit repair this Errour, or thou shalt for ever do pennance in durty sheets, and wast thy Treasury in writing speeches for the City Pageants

it must be so, there is no remedy.

O Vnderwit, welcome, I want thy help indeed now.

Why, what new accident?

Manly's come over.

How!

Nay, I know not how; whether in an Egg-shell, or a Man of War.

How came the Intelligence?

My boy going out for Torches saw him in the Tavern Window.

All's spoil'd then, if we love our selves, let's sneak out at the back-door, with what we can take up privately, unto our Ship, and set sail.

Whence this fear? Art thou turn'd Coward lately?

Faith, I thought I was valiant once, but then I was ho­nest, I believe I could yet make a shift to fight, but to be wafted up to Tyburn in a Land Sculler, attended with a Train of Hal­berdiers, Truant-prentices, seems to mee much unlike a gentle­man.

Come, be resolute, and dare thy fate. I'le teach thee how to ward this blow, be thou but bold.

You know though I am no Master Architect of high de­sign. I'm an indifferent subordinate workman, and can obey directions.

SCEN. IV. The Street.

WHat a deal ado is here about a Fellow rais'd from a Whole-sale Cheese-monger to be a Merchant, and Match into a Noble Family! What a Melody the Peckled boys of Christ-Church made! A Herald Usher'd the Hearse forsooth, and after that a mourning Serving-man with a Crest. Thomas succeeded him with a Helmet instead of a Butter Firkin, next marcht his Hearse beset with Funeral Scutcheons (Azure on a Fez Argent, three Tortoises, in chief as many Plates, which are by interpretation, three Holland-Cheeses on a Stall, and the Suffolk on a Shelf) in the rear of this came my Spouse, supported by my Benefactor, with a Pox to him, and after him the whole crew of Billingsgate and Wapping.

Oh, here they are returning, now I will salute 'em.

By your Leave Gallants.

Sure I should know that Voice.

Do you know me Madam: Sure you are not so over-grown in Tears, but your Eye may discern whether you know me then:

I'le satisfie you briefly. Sir, I ne're till now beheld you.

No Sir, I am her Husband.

If any former Contract do Intitle you to make a claim, do it by Law, Our Marriage cancels it, let the Church decide the Controversie.

Sir, forbear you are uncivil, if you have ought to say, Do it by your Proctor.

Do you think I'le be talk'd out of my wife?

Your Wife.

I my Wife ravished by thee.

Call for a Beadle hear to conduct this Madman to Bedlam.

Do, and bid him bring a whip with him, why thou base Impostor with what forehead darest thou deny these evidident truths: canst thou deny thy promise made to me for my re-establishment in my Estate, and now instead of that, ransak'st my rich Treasure, thou perjur'd Trayterous Villain.

These fowl words I know not how to answer.

I believe thee.

In tearms as scurrillous, but the Laws shall revenge my silence, i'le provide you a Desk with a window to peep out at, where exalted above the Vulgar, you may declame to the Ad­miring Porters.

'Tis a place i'le not dis-sease you of, y'are heir apparent to the Pillow; and in great probability to inherit a more lofty tenement near Padington.

You look as you would take a room there.

Counterfiting my person makes it yours by the Statute, Did you supply my wants to begger me, your Charity was a Plot I see.

What means that Orlando furioso, is the Moon at full that he raves thus? Your name is Tom.

Is it so, and you would make it Fool: but e're we part you'l find I've wit enough to prove you a Knave; you are Mr. Manly I hear Sir, whose rich Uncle died lately, and left you an Armado of rich Indian Ships.

The very same Sir, would you serve him; bring a Cer­tificate that you'l bid none but your self: and that you can keep Close— at Dinner time, and I may be wrought to bestow a pide Coat upon you.

It would be better Husbandry to provide your self with a Clean Night-Cap, that go out like —

Will sorrow be buried with him: Now must I wriggle my self into my young Mistrisses favour; bless me Sir, you have chang'd Clothes very speedily!

Know you, Sir, 'tis not so long since I saw you, that I should forget you, d'you think I do not know you because your habits alter'd.

Now, Sir, are you meditating an escape?

Now, Sir, are you in contemplation which is the nearest way to Bridewell.

Heres an impudent Fellow would perswade me I am not my self.

Is he of the Conspiracy too? Sirrah, dare you de­ny that I am her husband?

Dar'st thou deny she is my Wife.

Why Reason we with one that wants it thus, in the mean time neglecting her; forgive me Sweetest,

come help here, Thomas, her eyes open.

Oh!

Bow her this way.

Such strange impudence I never heard of.

Will you vanish Sir? Do not disturb the quiet of this dwelling with your unmanner'd railings, had you come in a fair civil way you had bin welcome, and might have bin drinking with the Servingmen.

Friend, pray be moderate, if all this stir be for a Cup of burnt Wine, go home and fetch your Dish▪ and the Porter shall bring it out to you.

Is't not enough to be gull'd, but I must be jeer'd too?

That's he with the drawn Sword.

Come neighbours, let us steal behind him softly, softly.

How now, what mean you?

What! does he resist? Take away his Sword and knock him down Neighbours for a sawcy fellow! Not obey Officers?

Wherefore do you pinnion me? I am no condemn'd Rogue.

No, not yet, but you may be in good time, let's away with these Pick-pocket Thieves, neither I, nor my Subjects can sleep on the stalls a night quietly for 'em.

I, and I warrant you, he had my Bill too. Sirrah con­fess.

Is all the City Mad?

No Neighbour, I see he has no grace in him; he will not confess.

Let me but know my crime, and I'le obey your Wooden Power.

How now, Malepert Rascal! Talk to Mr. Constable, Kemb his Head with a Halbert.

No, Neighbour, patience, I will give him leave to speak; he has but a short time, his breath will be stopt suddenly, alas friend 'tis no great fault y'are accus'd of; 'tis only flat Felony, taking a purss upon Shooters-hill; that's all.

Who I? Let me see my accuser, I know he'l acquit me.

Oh, are you one of that Fraternity! he came hither, Thomas, upon some design, is the Plate safe?

There was a silver spoon missing Yesterday, it may be he has it.

Let me but view the party robb'd.

There he is, Sir,

Oh! are you the man? then I smell whence this wind blows, you are that Cheaters Complice, when you robb'd Sir.

Is Yesterday seven-night, so long ago you have forgot­ten it.

What did I spoil you of? your vertues? or one bale of high men, and another of low? Forty copper Rings, and one gold one to put of the rest off?

Yes, those very things, besides twelve pounds in silver. How readily he can tell the number! Gentlemen, remember he has confest the gold ring.

I, I, I wee'l bear witness, come, hale him away.

By heaven I'm abus'd! I came but this night from Sea.

Oh, Sir; These excuses will not serve.

Take but that Fellow along with me in the mourn­ing Cloak, he's the arrant'st Cheat—

How now, Sawcebox! what! abuse Mr. Manly? away, away with him, he's an arrant Knave I warrant you.

Did you ever see such an impudent Rogue, Thomas?

Never since I was born Sir, but me thinks he's very like you good Sir, let me bite a mark about your face, that I may know you.

SCEN. V. A Chamber.

How many Women whose names stand white in the Re­cords of Fame, have acted willingly what you were wrought by fraud to suffer; only they keep it from the publique knowledge, and therefore they are innocent. How many Fair ones, were this your story acted in a Play, would come to see it sitting by their Husbands, and secretly accuse themselves of more. So full of spots and brakes is humane life, but only we see all things by false lights, which hide defects, and gloss 'ore what's amiss, —Grant me your Love once more, and I will yet restore your Honour: You shall appear as vertuous and innocent, as you are fair and charming.

How now, what News from Tripoly?

O Lord, Sir, 'tis no jesting matter, my Mistress is in the strangest taking, she fomes as if she had the falling sickness, Curses like a Carman stopt going up Ludgate-Hill, and has whet­ted the point of her Steel bodkin, as if she had a plot on us, she has askt twice or thrice for a Knife.

Never fear her, I warrant you, she that will ask for a weapon is not desperate; get you gone in to her, and twattle her out of the sullens if you can; if not, I'le not long be absent.

I have done the business, the Justice was as stately as a drunken Constable at midnight, till his Clark whisper [...]d him in the Ear what I had brought him, and told him of your pro­mise of a Turky Pye at Easter, then the weight of that made him lean to my party, and now he has committed him to Newgate.

Thomas

Sir?

away to the Jay­lour, grease him in the Fist, desire him to be the new Prisoners Sen [...]p [...]ter, and bestow Cuffs on him.

Vnderwit, a Word. We must break up house-keeping present­ly, and away; for this Woman's plaguy peevish, and will discover all: go abroad quickly, wee'l to Sea to Night, though I am mon­strous loth to leave Her.

'Tis impossible, for I spi'd one of the Sailours in a Strong-Water Shop, who tells me another Ship fell fowl of our [...], and has broke her Stern and Galleries.

Then we are lost!

No, not so; I'le help you out, so that we may scape gainers, though not so great ones as we aimed to be. I thought on my expedient in my return from the Justices, and least my me­mory might fail me, writ it down: There 'tis,

you know Manly's credulous enough to believe a formal story, And while you prepare the woman; if I work not his dull clay brain to any thing, I am no Master Potter.

I like the design, let us about it presently; and with the Morning-Tide, down to the Ship.

SCEN. VI. The Street.

Neighbours, I am a Searcher by my Place, and a Con­stable by my Office; you are my Trusty boys, that Watch my Candle, and take a care that I do not sleep in the dark. I am not ignorant of your abilities, for every night I'm on the Watch, you overcome eighteen penny-worth of my Ale apiece, besides what Thieves allow that they may steal by us, and our extortions from wandring Wastcoateers, with all which you are yet able to reel home in the mornings, which shews, you have not only able Legs (and those I have seen you use very nimbly when you have been assaulted by drunken Gentlemen) but strong Brains, wherefore Neighbours I ask your advice concerning this Warrant.

Pray Mr. Constable, whose Warrant is it.

By' Lady, that's a hard question, for a Justice of Peace with the help of his Clark made it, my Gossip Turnup paid for it, and she delivered it to me.

I but I mean Mr. Constable, from what Justice came it?

Why it came from Justice Shipwrack, a very able man: I know not what rent he sits at, but that he paid a good fine for his place, it cost him a brace of hundreds to be put into Com­mission— but to the business — my Gossip that gave it me, told me it was a Warrant; but we Magistrates must not trust too much to Information. I cannot read it Neighbour, pray do you.

Truly, 'tis a very pretty thing, how evenly 'tis cut!

Hold up t'other end Neighbour.

Why, will you teach me to read?

No truly, I will not teach you to do that I cannot do my self; but I know you hold it as if you were about to shew tricks with the heels upwards. Well, this is from the purpose how do you like the Warrant?

Very handsomely indeed, Mr. Constable, these dainty fair black stroaks look very prettily upon the white Paper.

Lord! To see what some men can do! How many scratches go to the making of a Warrant!

Well, but what are the Contents?

Nay, there I leave you. I should have learn'd to write and read too, had not all my time been taken up in running of Errands.

Give it my neighbour here, he was Clerk of a Parish once, and might have been still, had he not frighted the Patron out of his sleep with Tuning a Psalm. He has his Written-Hand at his Fingers ends.

I Neighbour, I can spy the business through these thick Spectacles. These are —

What are they Neighbour?

A Warrant I'le lay my life on't.

Patience, good Mr. Constable to will and Command you—

I and you too, Neighbours, I'le not go else, do you think I'm mad, to be duckt alone?

Well, one.

And Command you to —

Nay, by'r Lady, all four or none I say again.

I promise you I'le be strict enough.

And Enquire—

In all suspitious places—

Hold, Neighbour, here is a very suspitious house hard by old Mrs. what do you call's, that whiffes whole pots of Ale off, and cries Dam me you whore, pledge the Gentleman— Super naculum, or I'le fling the remainder on your Satin-gown▪ She's a good one I warrant her, had not we best look there?

Indeed Mr. Constable, she's a vertuous Matron, pays Church duties justly though she make no use of it, and does a great many Charitable deeds in the Parish, she took a likeing to my daugh­ter, because she was somewhat handsome, and keeps her I war­rant you, in goodsilk gowns by'r Lady all the Term time.

Read on then.

Namely in the Ship called the William.

Mark that Neighbour.

Yes my namesake.

Riding about Cuckholds Haven.

Remember that Neighbour, that we do not forget whi­ther we are to go.

Ne'er doubt it, I call to mind a very good token, a Shipwright got my eldest boy there in a Lanthorn of the great Ship.

For the Child of Widdow Turnup — O Young Rogue! steal already.

No, Neighbour, you misconceive that Child, for he is stol'n poor fool, some Knave or other has ticed him away with a baked Pair, and my Gossip hear's this Ship is bound for the Ber­mudos, and suspects he may be spirited into it, truly Neighbours consider soberly, and 'tis a very hard case, when we cannot get Children our selves, but are forc't to allow wages to Seamen, and labouring younger brothers to do it for us, and as soon as ever we have 'em they must be stollen, there's all our charges meerly throne away.

Does any body steal Children?

Yes, familiarly when they have poor folks bratts, the Church-wardens wink at such small faults; nay, and some think (under the Rose neighbours) 'tis done by their own Journey­men.

I would fain be acquainted with these Child-stealers. I have a Litter of my little Urchins at home, I'le shew 'em how they shall steal them every one, and their mother too if they please, but then they must come in armour, for she's a plaguy Jade, and will kick woundily.

On, On.

All persons whom you shall instruct, to bring before me, re­quire in all persons to be aiding and assisting unto you —

That's some comfort yet.

Fail not at the Execution hereof—

Execution! What? have we more power to hang, draw, and quarter with 'em, but we cannot hang 'em, read that over again Neighbour.

Fail not the execution hereof on your peril.

I, There's the sting in the Tail of all Warrants, we must execute other mens wills on our own perils, while they snort in security.

By the Mass, this is a dangerous business indeed! these Mar­riners are boistrous Knaves.

We must even through stich with it. I have made my Will, and took my leave of my Wife and Children; let's run to the Alehouse and say prayers over a double pot, and then we may venture the more boldly by the time, Tide will serve.

Yes, Mr. Constable, but pray let's make all the haste you can, for you know the Warrant saies the Ship is now riding about Cuckholds-Haven; but if it rides but a Trot or a hand gallop, it may be twice as far off e're morning.

Do not be afraid of that Neighbour, for while it turns round about it, it ever now and then comes into the same place again; and there certainly we shall find it, for it dares not disobey our Warrant.

SCEN. I. A Ship or Gunroom.

I'le give thee a Tenement of four pound, per annum and let me go to Land again.

I'd rather lie 'ith Bilbows, then in such a Hovel; it can­not be so convenient as a Hammaque.

I'le give thee Cheese to Victual thy whole Family for a Twelve moneth, though every soul were Welch.

A whole Tun of Butter to mollifie thy stony Bisket, and twenty new stampt spankers tied up 'ith corner of a Handkerchief.

Your Cheese is mouldy, and your Butter fusty, your old Shop-keepers stick friend.

You may as soon bribe Tempests, or with your entrea­ties calm rageing Seas, as tempt me.

This was a kind Visit indeed to come aboard, y'are wel­come to the Masters Cabbin, Captain, were he here himself, I know he'd make very much of you; for he's an old Seaman, and loves one with his life.

Honest Boatswain, thank thee; I read thy kindness in thy eyes, before I heard it from thy mouth.

Noble Captain, once more, welcome; Here's good Wine aboard, and white Bisket, in to the Cook Boy, quickly, Bid him put some Beef in the Stew-pan.

I see it, and I taste it now.

What we have given for such in Algiers.

Nothing, for we had no money, had not you made your Escape, you might have staid as long as I.

I hope we shall be able to requite their courtesies one day. I wear their mark yet.

I believe, you had but little faith in the Hieroglyphick. When they Printed it, that Anchor represented you but slender hopes of your redemption.

No, for each flook of it put me in mind how fast I was moor'd there.

But you took an occasion to Cut the Cable.

Yet I was strong enough to bring the Anchor with me.

I stay'd till mine was weigh'd (I do you reason)

T'other spoonful, noble Captain.

Here's to your boon Voyage.

I pledge you.

Whither are you bound,

For Bermudas.

Would I had never known't !

Had you any great loss on that shoar,

Very few yet, but we keep our Spirits hungry, and they are seeking prey in all quarters.

How goes the Market now?

Noble Captain, pray step upon the Deck, and hold 'em in discourse over a Bottle until I give the word.

'Tis the least service I can do you.

But it is greater it may be, then you think of, what if they should come to search after this old fellow? Then there's a Ship clearly lost, I must tack about to gather wind, or I shall be driven backwards, now let me prove an able Pilot, or my designs sink, where are you, Mate?

What think you of a little Fresh-air, give me your hand Father.

No, but to seat you in't if you'l be wise; the last Confe­rence I had with you has struck a deep Impression on me, and so wrought me that could I see a probability you would perform what then you promised me, you should be free as I, within two hours.

Art thou in earnest?

Were you in earnest when you promis'd me to make me your heir.

Yes, by —

Nay, do not swear, but set your hand and seal to what I write here.

Well Sir, no this is done; I'le be better then my word. I'le let you see, although I am your heir, I thirst not for for your death, I'le save your life, Sir,

Am I design'd to death then?

Without remedy, unless you take my Councel.

Honest Son!

Here will immediately a company of Ruffians come, pretending they are Officers (although in truth they are disguis'd Rogues, hir'd by the Master to sound if you would me seek for the help of any you thought could free you from this prison.

O Villains!

They'l set a face of searching the Vessel from the Keel to the Top-gallant, and it may be they will blurt out some que­stions to entrap you; but if you speak the smallest word, or think too lewd a Fellow with a butchers knife.

Were ever such things heard of! Twenty per Cent. is no­thing to't.

Wee'l pair your weazand to the coar without any mercy.

How happy am I that thou art honest I'le warrant 'em. Il not speak a word to 'em, I'le breath as softly as I can too.

They come now, be wise, what would you have? come upon the Quarter-deck here.

The child was in none of those bottles we tasted was it neighbour?

No sure, for the Wine tasted very sweet.

And the bottle did not smell of Chamber-lie.

Pray Mr. Constable lets make haste, for I begin to be Sea-sick.

My Stomack wambles too.

God bless us Neighbour! The Devil in the shape of old Mr. Lear.

Ah, ah where is he, Mr. Constable?

Oh, there, there, there, neighbours I think none of us can say our prayers, but I am sure we can all run.

What hast they make! there's o [...]e of 'em tipt over into the River.

It may be he hath need on't.

His Comrades take little notice of it, for they are put­ting off without helping him. Oh the fellow has got hold of an Oar, and will not part with it, I'le go down to the Forecastle and keep sight of 'em as long as I can.

Are they all gone?

Gone, Yes.

Shall we ashoar?

Yes.

Is the Boat ready?

Some three or four months hence it shall be to set you a shore in America.

Yes, I did so.

You talkt another kind of Language then.

Yes, but my meaning was the same as now.

Why, did you make me hope, but to despair?

Truth, there was much necessity for it, which you'l be apt to believe, when I tell you when these Searchers came aboard, [Page 58] I fear'd they had made some discovery of you, by some words you might let slip; wherefore I did apply that promise finely guilded for a preventing Pill.

Thou hast not only then deluded me, but lost thy self by't, if thou dost not yet perform it look but what an estate, I make thee heir of at least an hundred thousand pounds.

There take your meat again, do not I know men in ne­cessity are alwaies prodigal of promises? but once escap'd the storm, the Saint to whom they vow'd is laught at.

Well, Heaven thou art just! for when I made

this promise I resolv'd to break it, and therefore I am paid in my own coyn, do but yet shew thy mercy in my deliverance, and here I vow a punctual observation of all promises I e'er shall make, though never so disadvantagious to me.

Noble owners, welcome aboard, now Sir you may beat your bargain with them, the old man and I have been bartering for his liberty, by the Mass he bids high.

Would you be out of the Ship?

Yes any where else.

Why, be but patient till we come to the Ocean; wee'l fling you over board, and tie a good Cannon Bullet about your neck instead of a Gold Ring in your ear.

Or what think you of being turn'd loose in a half Tubb, or a Wash-bowl, like a baited Cat.

Yes, you shall have your freedom— but you shall serve for it some fourteen years among the flax-dressers in the Summer-Islands, exercise will get you such a stomack, Sir.

Is there no hope of ransome?

Yes, by sneaking out of the world to take a Nap with your Forefathers.

Any.

He that is so precipitate in signing any, in my opinion resolves never to keep any, though he huddle on now, hee'l put on his spectacles, I fear, when he should perform 'em.

There's a necessity in believing him, yet still I doubt.

Do not, who knows his space, dyet may have caused much mortification? shall I read 'em to you?

With all my heart.

That you pay the Eight thousand pounds left to Mrs. Manly by her Grand-father with interest to this day to her Husband, that you bestow on me and the rest of my friends two thousand pounds for taking the pains to make you just and honest, that such as have had any hand in your Cure shall pass undamaged by any Suits from you, and indempnified from the rigour of any Laws, in Condition of which we will make restitution of all we have taken from you, together with your Liberty.

Gentlemen I thank you, and I beseech you let a friend of mine be welcome to you in her, noble Captain, be pleased to come into the Cabin.

SCEN. 1. A Prison.

SCEN. II. Learcuts House.

SCENE.

Ha, boy! is he buried; if he be, they have not laid weight enough on him to keep him under ground, for I am he boy.

Ha, is the Devil so well pleas'd at a Usurers Burial, that he comes in person to defray the charges, bless me! I see his Cloven foot now, sure he cannot run as fast with that as I with mine.

How now, the boy is fled too? it seems then I am dead and buried, and bring my own Ghost to fright 'em, this is very pretty. I have a fine Daughter in the mean time, that this con­spires against me, well, I will prosecute my adventure, and since you have made me an Inhabitant of the lower Region. I'le ramble through every Room, and play some fair Tricks among you.

Sir, I beseech you check these swelling Torrents of my amazement, lest the Lawless Flood pull up my sences by the roots; Why, do you deny to accept that duty you have hither­to smil'd on, when e're I tender'd?

The SCENE, Learcut's House.

Sweet Mrs. send for a Cunning Man.

Good Mrs. Isbel, hide me under your Petticoats, that the Divel may not find me, they say he dares not peep under a Maids Coat.

Are you Lunatick?

What strange Monster have your fancies been brought to Bed of?

O Lord Mrs. he leapt in the Key-hole, he has got Fire­brands instead of eyes.

I, and he draws a great Chain after him▪

Is not the Monkey broke loose?

I will believe now? Now he's playing his pranks in the Kitchin, hee'l be in the Closset among

Your Sweetmeats and glasses presently.

What should that noise be tro?

Ten to one but the Cats are shewing Christmas gambals.

Spare me, I beseech you good Mr. Belzebub.

Fear not t'approach me, for I am yet alive, rumour was somewhat too hasty to kill me, and some of my friends over pious to bury me before I was cold, but I forgive all.

What Miracle's this? The Emblem of an Apostate? The Spirit tun'd flesh.

This is comfortable News, I'm sure it makes the Spirits return to my flesh.

I'm afraid still, prithee Thomas Chear me up.

Madam I now at length present him to you, whose sha­dow I did represent—

Sir, you are welcom.

Do you know me now then?

Sir, I hope this Gentleman your Friend, hath ex­plain'd that to you.

How's this? are not you my Son in Law, Sir,

No indeed, Sir I only attempted your conversion in my Friends behalf.

But you were my Daughters Bed-fellow in his behalf.

Very likely.

Well then my true Son in Law, welcome, I will not fail a Syllable of my promises.

Use Exercise, as playing at Cards, or Shuttle-Cock, do any thing rather than be idle; and at night when you undress your self against the fire, chafe in three or four short pithy prayers and the deeds done.

Why look you, Madam, to let you see how far I am from a desperate Inamorato, I promise you faithfully I will never trouble you with this Sugar Courtship while I live, if on these terms you please t'accept my Visits, they shall be frequent.

Most willingly, for I affect your Conversation.

Well Thomas, I remit your errours; but have a care you prove true to me hereafter.

Else may my Pigs ney, here forsake her Trusty Thomas!

Lo're your Top-gallant, you must stick here Sir.

I do so, Sir.

Withal, I here make restitution too,

A son that six and twenty years ago was stol'n from you by some whom I employ'd; a Crime I hope heaven hath forgiven; if you cannot, here do I wait my doom: (Nay do not stand so like a [Page 68] Statute, 'tis a truth I publish.) This gentleman an Infant was brought to me in his Nurses Arms, about his Neck this Whistle which I have kept like Meleagers brand.

This Act of yours Cancels my anger.

You are kindly charitable.

The Brother and Sister are very intimate, and loving al­ready; small kindred are not taken notice of.

Sister Excuse me, If I lay claim to my new Priviledge, I fear I have assisted an exploit will shame us both. Nay do not blush but tell me, Did Hazard e're enjoy you?

How do you like the new revived Gentleman?

In truth, he looks like a fine Fellow to make a Husband of.

Sister, I am much taken with your free Confession, Could I now find a way to disanul the former Match, would you receive my Friend into your Bosom, that's the only means to save your good Name, people will talk else.

Brother, let me see how, least my fame will suffer, And I will fix on that.

Sir, A word with you,

I will be plain with you though what I have to say concerns my Sisters innocence. I would advise you to disclaim her, Sir, for by this light, for ought I can hear, she is with Child.

I will requite your plainness, Sir, in Specie. Were she now Teeming with a litter of seven; nay did she con­firm the miracle of that Lady who brought three hundred sixty five at once, I would not quit her cause, I would not loose the money I have long suffer'd for; but knew I how to compass that, and then be rid of her, she should to grass to Night.

Will you compound, and take one half?

You tempt me shrewdly, how shall I be secur'd of it?

It shall be paid you instantly.

'Tis done then, I'le to travail again; Come give me your hand.

I, with it pawn my Faith to you.

Me thinks, I have driven a very good

Bargain now I shall be rid of a Skittish Jade, and have money to boot. Farwell Matrimony, if ever I be hamper'd in that noose again, let me be choakt with it!

Cozen your pardon, heark thee Haz.

Now your pleasure with me?

What think'st thou of my Sister? how dost like her?

Faith I like her very well.

What if I made a Match betwixt you two?

Faith I believe one of us would be content to forfeit our earnest, thou hast not a mind to have her hang'd hast thou?

No certainly, but if I could lay level at the troublesome fences of the Law, what wouldst thou say?

I'd say thou wert an excellent Pioneer.

Wouldst marry her?

Yes Fait, for we have both had the best tryal of liking one another, 'tis true I have had her before hand but that's but being my own Cuckold.

What mean these Whispers?

Sir they concern you much, you must have another Son in Law.

Where must I find him?

In this Gentleman—Manly (whatever was pretended to, he never enjoy'd my Sister, till last night she was a Virgin.

I'le be sworn she was for Mr. Manly.

Then take your choice, there is a Marriage without Consummation; here's a Consummation without a Marriage.

If Manly be contented, I am; for that way which ren­ders my Child an honest Woman.

Sir, he must be contended; He has been above seven years away beyond Sea, and has never Writ her word he was alive; so that in Law the Marriage is void.

Then take her hand she's yours by my Consent.

And what is more, by mine. This way my honours safe, but by the other nothing but discontents and endless quarrels could have insu'd. I hope Sir, you will not judge the worse of my Vertue by what has past between us.

I was in fault not you, but 'twas a fault, so fortunate, that I can ne'r repent it; pardon me for what is past, and for the future all my wild follies and debaucheries I'le leave and place my hap­piness alone in you.

And to encourage your conversion I'le give you Twen­ty thousand pounds with her, and five times as much that I have in store for you Son.

Thomas you look as if your mouth were big with some request or other.

Me thinks he simpers as if he had a mind to be Married to Morrow.

Truly Sir you read my Thoughts, for I am as they say, a young beginner, and fain would save the Charges of a Dinner.

'Tis granted.

Thank your Worships. Isbel set back your appetite some Four and Twenty hours, and then you shall have your belly full.

'Tis a great matter to forbear so long, when a Womans Stomack's up, but I'le endeavour.

Send for a Noise of Fidlers quickly.