Scene the First.

But prithee tell me Ben. how has thy pollitick pate maintain'd thy Nobleness? I am sure you needs must thrive, Since by your last Letter to me at Madrid I was in­formed you have banish'd the Conceit of Marriage.

O yes, I thank my Fate that fancy flew quickly, and [Page 2] ever since in your Art I have been no small practitioner.

But how did your Mistress Selina relish it? That Admirable Doxie!

Doxie indeed! whose lasciuious life, had it been concealed till I had married her, had ruined me for ever!

What Man, the chaste, the virtuous Selina!

No the unchaste, vicious Selina! whom (after my Annual services of Adoration to her Shrine, and unfeign'd vows of being hers constant for ever) I found to be as foul within, as I esteemed her fair without.

Why this is fine [...] faith. By Jove Ben: Ile tell thee these women are just like weather Cocks, that turn too and fro at every puffe of wind: So they are as fickle in setling their Love on any one man, as a Phanatick Parson's unwilling to alter his Religion when he is forced to Conform or loose his Benefice.

I have found it so.

'Tis a remarkable observation, that any man that has eyes and ears must of necessity credit it: but there are some such Buffs in this land, that won't believe what their ears have heard, or eyes have seen: but take their Wives as we do Conies to pen up, whilst every Dame to requite the kind­ness, will find a conveniency to tempt the next young Gallant that passes into her Chamber, and there discharge the burthen of her desire without the least consideration of making her Husband a Cuckold.

That's most certain.

Most certain and you so certainly besotted as resolve to marry; I thought the little practice you had made in my Art might have been a sufficient Embleme to demonstrate all women's levity.

Prithe no more of't: I am as far from having a good thought of womens constancy, as ever I was, and once you [Page 3] know I was your only schollar, had your cunning ad ungues, (and if without boasting) can say I still retain it.

Then let us plot and practice: this is a City affords good faces, wee'l instantly go view it, you one way, I another: but be sure before you strike search out the nature of the crea­ture.

Never sear it, Ile warrant thee boy I hit right.

That done you cannot miss entrance into any Vene­tian Dame, for my part I doubt not my rogury will never faile getting me a Mistres, though it were in the Land of Chastity.

I confide something too in mine.

Act first, Scen second.

I know no reason for it: there was nothing in the Masque last night but what was pure and splendid.

The news Captain, any Letters from the Army yet to his Highness?

Yes Sir last night.

Are the contents divulg'd?

Yes some two daies since half our army was besmear'd with blood, the other half took flight, and the fam'd Carionil with some number of cheif Commanders were surrounded with a multitude of Enemies, and almost hopeless of ever see­ing Venice agen: yet when they heard our noble General cry, fight, fight for Venice till you dye, they with such vigour re­doubled their blows, adding wounds to wounds, blood to blood, dead to the dead, till by the favour of that potent God, with whom it is to give the victory, they through the Multi­tude quickly run their way, and after for that night sounded a retreat

Whose Army in number doubled ours, but at the first on­set with manly courage

The rest lay gasping on the ground frustrate of future hope or remedy,

I joy wee were so succesful in the end, though to our loss at first.

I could have gladly wish'd my self there, but that I was commanded to the contrary.

I credit you Captain, you have done your Country good service.

My Lord I must retire.

Farewell good Captain.

Scen third.

Scen fourth.

ANd how and how? prethee begin, how are all things at Court?

O right to a hair, as I could wish or desire, the Ladies very pleasant and free, the Gallants very complacent and sim­ple, out of which I have pickt out one to play upon, he is in quality and ability one of the cheif, and as I take it a very fine fool for our purpose.

His Name?

Don Gonzetto, and for mirth to make up your Ro­guery, there is one Pego his man is reported for the prittiest dreaming Puppy that Venice can boast off.

Why then I perceive the Master and man are like to [Page 11] be finely handled if they come into our [...]tches, but how hast contri'd it?

O this great Don is very desperately in love with a young Citty Dame, and I perceive by his clipt tongue he wants a good Orator.

With a young Citty Dame?

So I was inform'd.

Good luck send it be the same I heard off, for now ile tell thee Ben. part of my progress, I was no sooner got in­to the body of the Citty, but I was crep into a croud of ac­quaintance: Ladies by whole sale, and Cittizens by Bakers dozens, amongst which I think I have pickt out two of the most pretious Ningles that the whole Citty affords: Fellows as rich as they are simple, and that I am sure is beyond ex­pression; the one is S. Don Aquinto a high and mighty Mounte­bank who swears he has done many wonderful and remarkable cures, but if I don't catch his coxcomb into a trap, that all his medicines shall never draw him out, let him report me no man of my trade. His whole discourse be it where it will, so there be any body to hear him, is of his cramp stage talk, of his great Cures of the Uvula, the Choliac a passio, the Polip­pus, with the rest as Morbus Gallicus &c. which is enough to tire a crew of patient Saints were they his companions, but that he has this good faculty, when the reckoning is call'd, his purse shall be sure to pay fort; the second is one Seignior Cor­nelio a very comical Coffee-man, and such another Ignoramus, but that his tougue does not so much betray his simpleness. But here's the point, these two Coxcombs, are very passio­nately taken with two young Ladies, daughters to one Ava­ritius a rich reported Userer, and in short by my discourse finding their own weakness and my efficacy in Arte Amandi very nobly retained me for their Agent.

There indeed you have got the start of me, but ile fol­low close.

Hark Ben. Let it be your care to bring Conzetto to our end of the Town among my crew that we may tye them all of a not, and then wee I so swing them! this evening we shall be at Cornelioe I Coffee-house.

Then there ile be sure to meet you with my Don.

Do so for as I remember I was also informed Avari­tius had a lovely Neece too, courted by many high Persons of which perhaps he may be one, and then our plot lyes in a lump and must needs goe currant.

But have you yet seen any of these Ladies?

Yes, and they are as pretty Creatures as ever I see, fair and each has a promising countenance of a very free dis­position, the Mother of the two Sisters was an English-wo­man. I have a plot for them both.

But when will you put it in practise?

Forthwith, lets go visit them instantly: our [...] are suitable to the Mode, our Persons proper, and for our tongues they need no tipping; but one thing always observ'd Ben. let not our Roguery extend to any criminal fact, that may merit the halter or the like, but tend only to a self interest: then

Scen first.

SIR, I like you well, and be assur'd that all my powers shall be imployed to do you service.

But come Sir, will it please you take a dish of Coffee to di­gest the news of the Diurnal.

Scen second.

COrnelio.

[...] your word.

Here's your Enemy Don Aquinto the Mountebank.

How!

Mum! take no notice till you meet occasion.

Enough,

Here a dish of Chaclates.

Of your best spanish.

You shall sir.

Well, and how goes [...] packquets, do the re­medies go roundly off, ha'you good takings, ha?

Troth well▪

I find the people free and much inclin'd to do themselves and me good.

This is he that strives to dam my trade by making strange speeches against Coffee — but I shall have som­thing to say to his balderdash complication of hard words presently — are you for Coffee sir?

No sir, the Berry is much degenerated from its proper vertue here in Venice by an absur'd commixture which renders it very unwholesome.

Sir mine's as good as any's in Venice.

That may very easily be when there's none good at all.

Tis the property of fools to condemn what they understand not.

Of fools Sir?

Yes Sir of fools. He that's disgruntled at that Sir is a fool, — I think [...].

[...] Sir.

Now it works ifaith.

Nay good Aquinto —

I, I, do kill me, you have no remedy against an hemp halter I hope: there I [...]pt him agen.

Nay pray sir be p [...]ed — see here comes strangers

Sir I ha' sold Coffee this twenty years and have liv'd a man of reputation.

What man of [...] would ben [...] with such a Ras­cal, that has liv'd upon parch'd beans, and boild water these twenty year by his own confession.

Come pray Gentlemen let us moderate the business.

A man of honour, a pittiful Mountebanck, a dull de­coying Fortune-teller, an impudent close-bugete'd imposter, one that gets his living meerly by choaking the multitude with hard words, and a little dirty dogs-turd compounded with a strange conjuring charm, Hyperbolloticon-bombon or the like? a man of honour? ha, ha, ha. That excellent ifaith.

ha, ha, ha.

Yee shall but here, pray give me leave, this is he that cures all diseases, and performes all Chyrurgical operations. He dextrously coucheth the cataract or suffusion, helps all rheumes, specks, Oungula or the nail in the eyes, dimness, pearls, weakness. He has the best remedies i'th world for all pains, sickness Megrum Vertigo or the dissiness of the head he cuts and cures cancers, wens, sore-breasts noli me tangere, as also Morbus gallicus, or the French POX, (in great let­ters) running o'th reins, and in a word all diseases and di­stempers incident to the body of man woman or child be it boy or girl,

ha, ha, ha ha.

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

ha, ha, ha.

[...]

[...] in some, but in you they are [...]

[...], ha, ha, ha.

[...] you and I have [...] a progress in your love with fair [...] a plot to make ye happy.

With [...] shall we finish and come to the purpose?

We are not farre off — [...]

Well [...] must needs be time.

[...] stay.

I will.

[...] to pay, take money.

[...].

[...] I shall be even with [...] incivilities.

[...]

Farewell sir

A man of honour, farewell Dr. Distaff belonging to the wheel of Fortune.

Ile be with you [...] prefixt without fail.

Your servant sir.

Welcome Gent [...]

So [...] no way you say but by this [...] and her fathers consent?

No, for put case she loves, as I dare warrant she does yet there must be somthing closly acted, that may make it sure, and not when we have brought our building to the height to be ruin'd with a puff.

Well I am resolv'd to spend all my estate in contri­vances but I will have my mind.

And I mine —

But come lets to the Tavern, and there wee'l plot to accomplish all.

Shall wee, a match then come on,

Scene third.

WHat stories are these I hear, Lucibella, ha what are they Lucibella? speak Clara, concerning two Youngsters. that were tampering to speak with you under the notion of business? what say you?

Only two young Gentlemen that desire your leave to try our wits by spending an hour in discourse with us now and then.

S'lid ile h'none of that, if ye have a mind to husbands ye shall love and like where I please or ile know why not.

That will be pritty i'faith, so we shall couple with two old Citizens, that are already grown out of fashion for want of the rudiments of Gentility in their youth, together with two much brooding over their books and bags in their counting house.

Come come I have a couple of Husbands for ye, grave and rich; and have ordered them to come to day upon a likeing, in the mean time trick yourselves up handsomly and prepare to entertain them with discretion.

S'lid lets baulk the old man, stand close

Well I must streight to the Exchange, where possibly I may meet them and conduct 'em hither.

Save ye Ladies! we are somewhat bold to interupt your privacies.

But we hope to find an easie pardon.

That's easily granted Gentlemen.

No doubt on't.

I durst have thought as much ere I came in.

A very pritty humour; their both handsome men, pray heav'n I misconster not their errand.

Madam so strange a curiositie has urg'd me to this boldness, I found it vain to resist: And to be plain we came with a resolution to love and serve you; smile on me? Ma­dam, I'me yours body and soul.

Very blunt and pathetical!

Troth I see I must be fain to put my self forward, Sir methinks you might be doing.

Doing Madam?

Yes doing somthing.

Faith any thing with you Madam.

Ha ha ha, now he comes on two fast:

Now am I so mad with love, that by my virginity, I shall never be sober till you quit me of that oath.

Then you may chance to dye raving.

Say you so? If I do, I am resolv'd my Ghost shall walk and haunt you till it fright you into the same condition.

How shall I know that?

Now I think on't my affection's in expressable.

Well excus'd however.

Come what say ye, shall we make a mad match on't

As how I pray?

Why, make a resolution to love one another, reci­procally in spight of Fate and the malice of the Devil.

Suppose I make this blind covenant, and you or I af­ter we have feasted our appetites with those delights, may chance to clog our stomacks, and then turn to neglect, and fail in your appointed Articles, what shall be the forfeit for every such default?

Why faith on your side to be tongue ty'd, and lye a­lone.

Good, and on yours — Cuckoldome, or so.

Agreed i'faith.

In faith agreed.

One denyal more, and by the love I bear you, which is as safe and sound as any roach, ile turn Astronomer and hate all women in general.

Well, hang't for once ile make a blind bargain on't and buy a pig in a poke?

And how goes squares Ben.

Faith, very roundly! we have made a short cut on't.

So, so, then we'l be merry, laugh and lye down, dance and sing in spight of the old mans opposition, but firs [...] lets sing, what say ye Ladies?

What you please.

I, I, come come, we'l help to make a Chorus.

I protest a very pleasant one.

Of your own composure I suppose.

An abstract drawn from our humour and disposition, Madam.

'Tis well ayr'd too.

You jeer Madam.

You mistake Sir.

Madam Lucibella your Father's coming down street with two Gentlemen homeward.

Upon my life Aquinto the Mountebank and Cornelio the Coffee-man, what shall's do Ben.

Let 'm come weel not bauk them weel wheedle them into an opinion that wee were acting in their behalf aforehand that they might be entertained with more familiarity and greater courtesy.

And for the old Man, Ladies with your leaves wee'l undertake to allay his pettish humour.

Well Gentlemen use your own discretion.

And you yours with your new Suitors.

Sir, they enter.

Come Daughters — how? — here's a new trick i'faith — Pray Gentlemen what acquaintance have you here.

O Sir,

O me no O's sir, ye owe me nothing sir.

But pray sir.

Pray me no prays sir, pray to God if — ye'are so minded sir, Pray sir quoth A—

S'lid sir ye are a man of the perversest humour, that ever I met since I suck'd milk; what are you sir, that you'l nei­ther be spoken too nor give an Answer.

One wou'd ha'thought your age and long experience [Page 12] shou'd have taught you more civility to strangers, then thus to tyrannize, though in your own house.

You say well sir.

However they come to know it, they've nick't his humor right, Th' old mans chollar falls.

Now sir ye'are something more a man —

What then? speak.

Why pray sir.

Pray sir agen?

— Have but a little patience and i'l tell you the whole story. —

Story? that were fine i'faith, do I stand here to hear stories? Sir tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Why so ye shall if you'l but lend an ear —

No Sir ile lend neither of my ears.

Then keep 'em till the Pillory claims it own.

Nick, Nick.

Excellent!

I see hee's uncapable of any civil society, ile e'ne rant him, Ben. observe my stile.

Enough, proceed.

Venerable Sir, I shall take my leave — hark ye sir, I shall have somthing to say t'ye in some other place, for extor­tion and bribery the two dam'd sins 'oth age.

You may remember sir the defference between you and young Mr. Lavish concerning a morgage, where you had like to have screwed him to part with one half of his Estate to secure the other.

And then to stop his mouth compounded with him for half in half.

Gentlemen —

Nay this is not all.

Remember sir how ye abused his Higness bounty, which was to be distributed amongst six Justice of Peace for their good service ith sickness time, when you with your two comrades, got it into your own hands, you cast out the other three Justices and proved your own carvers.

How —

Nay sir there's a Petition like to be exhibited by Justice Gizard and the other two injured parties, 'twas a high indignity, and his Highness must know it.

'Tis fit he should by this light.

Well Gentlemen, I must withdraw, I beg your par­dons — O my sad heart, what to do, what to do!

Is he gone?

Ile warrant you for ever returning till wee are gone.

VVee netled his Justice-ship i'faith.

VVhat news now.

Heres Don Aquinto and Cornelio are very desirous to see you Ladies.

Prithee entertain 'em a while ith Hall and shew them the fine pictures. Ladies these are the men whose spokes­men we are to represent, and first Don Aquinto the mounte­bank, is one who spends all his estate besides his little brains in inventing hard words for sublime Courtship and im­ploying others to take presidents out of the greatest wits in Christendome for that purpose.

The other in his expression so low and blunt, that an hour with him is an absolute divertisment.

Hark is not that their tread? —

Doubtless, let us retire Ladies for fear of maring your pastime.

Pray do if you please, behind the Arras away, away,

I have heard of Cherubins and Seraphins, but never saw I Angels cloathed in flesh before.

A high sublime conceit.

Pox 'twas a complement an Age ago made to two Persons of Honour by a studient of Cajus Col. an intimate friend of mine.

Mrs. Clara, let me not live to fill one dish of Coffee more, but dye like a fool suddenly without making my will if I don't love ye — most heartily.

Thank ye, thank ye.

All the Coelestial beauties of the heavens, com­pounded in one only object, cou'd not more afflict and press these weaker opticks which (as those lesser lights call'd stars, do vanish and disappear at Phaebus rising glory) are as it were obscur'd by your too glorious aspect.

Methinks you should have done well to have brought a preservative against weakness of eyes along with you know­ing what a powerful object they were to encounter.

True Madam, but men that are employ'd about affairs beyond the moon, cannot stoop to consider matters subluminary; those men whose larger souls still aim at things immortal, know not how to condiscend to converse with inferial mortality.

I Madam, you may say what you please, but I pro­test my heart is as full of love, as a Church bucketfull of wa­ter.

Good, or as an empty oystershel's full of brains.

What you please Madam.

What a plaguy company of lyes the Rogue has wound upon one bottom.

Your language Sir has spoken you wordly, and with­all I am so well certified of your generosity and nobleness, that I must needs blush and own the conquest you already gained over my affection and weakness. I heard your noble Friend speak in your [...] as greedi­ly as griping Misers listen to the wills of of their deceased frinds wherein they are possest of large reve [...].

He's my dearest and most faithful friend whom I am proud to intrust with the disposeing of my most nice affairs.

Sir, he shall be ever [...]ceptable as from you.

Immortal thanks, divinest Lady!

Well Seignior Cornelia; heres my hand, and as I love pi [...]y — thou art a pritty fellow, wou'd I were a young wench for thy sake.

O Madam, I take you at your wish i'faith. Ile en'e to the old Justice immediately: slid i'm so orejoy'd, — I know not how [...]y breeches hang, farewell sweet Madam: I must straight to Plot-thrift and tell him this good news, farewell sweet Mistress.

Sweet servant yours.

Madam some extraordinary affaires exact my pre­sence at Exchange, I humbly take my leave and shall never be forgetfull to employ my friend in my own absence to com­memorate my best services to your honoured self, your ser­vant sweet Ladies.

Yours Sir.

VVee'l [...] you out.

By no means Ladies, you shall excuse me.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

How now Gentlemen, could you hear all this while and not be realous.

Faith Coz. how didst like it, did wee not play our parts worthy your applause.

O incomparably.

Faith I sear'd all had been spoyl'd, yea jeer'd them so home.

Nay thei'r less beholding to Nature for allowing e'm so many ounces of beard, scearsly to one dram of appre­hension.

Come what shall wee do.

I what indeed.

Faith and troth lets take a walk together, and so with a littla fresh air digest our late pleasant banquet.

VVith all our hearts, and then wee'l consider more leasurely about accomplishing our desired ends.

Faith well adviz'd, come lets away we shall ore-reach their graveties.

Scen first.

Scen second.

NOw what think you on't Ben?

Faith but indifferent.

I have a double fear: I feel a kind of an itch of ho­nesty within me, down right honesty to Lucibella.

And I to Clara as I am a Christian.

But I fear 'will never agree with us long.

As much fear I.

And then the small comfortable lives the poor wretches will have.

Nay I must confess they will be well hop'd up with two staid husbands.

Yes like town bulls riding upon all they can leap. But hangh't handsome English Girls and good fortunes may tye us close to their tails in tyme.

O fie banish the conceit of Marriage!

what loose all the plea­sures of a single life, to be constran­ed to the humour of one foolish Woman? no visiting of the Taverns without a peal from home; no courting of a handsome [Page 30] Lady without a score of scratches and the like; these were your own words sir.

Well they were so, I deny it not, nor am I yet resolv'd to do't: yet I am prompted much, Money and Beauty are two taking bates and must prevail.

Well conclude and ile joyn with you, either put for­ward or draw off: I dare swear they are honest.

Of that lets make a sound tryal.

Agreed.

Lets to them.

See here they are,

So, so, now Ben. follow my free fawning way directly and observe my motions.

Enough.

O my dear Luci.

O my dear Clara.

O dear Gentlemen.

Well met.

Whither march you Ladies?

To visit sir.

Who Lady? Man, Woman, Boy or Girl or what?

You are very inquisitive.

'Tis the nature of the Country Madam.

'Tis not your Nature I hope.

Perhaps while I am here, no longer.

Pray heaven it be not.

Why to tell you true, we are going to neither man, woman, boy nor girl, but yet may meet many.

Wee are going to the Physick Garden at the City gate end.

Please you Ladies wee'l wait upon you thither.

What say you Madam?

Pardon us fir, not for want of Love or respect but fear of our Fathers meeting us, or some of his Acquaintance, wee desire to be excus'd.

Besides it may be a means to obstruct our future ap­pointment.

You councel well Lady.

I must confess that love is ill grounded that destroyes it self through ignorance, yet Ladies ere we part lets beg the happiness of your company to take a glass of wine, here is a private Tavern at hand, besides your Masques blinds all dis­covery whatsoever.

Though Sir to grant your request is a thing as unusu­al with us, as those that never did, yet to assure you of the good esteem I have of you and your company, for my part I con­sent.

Then I must yeild too.

You honour us.

Please to name your wine Ladies.

VVhat you like best Sir.

Canary I esteem.

'Tis granted.

Canary: you shall Sir,

Now Lady we are blest above the proudest of our for­mer wishes, this happiness was like a thing desired but far from expectation, as men forlorn and wretched being content to dye and sure to suffer, wish to live, although they fully [Page 32] [...]

[...]

VVe [...]

And hope [...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

Heres the w [...] and now [...] fill out drawer.

Here [...] ile [...]

VVell [...]

Yo [...] [...]

[...]

Nay [...]

[...] dishes full [...]

[...]

[...]

Thank [...]

VVhat thinst you of an Aire or two.

'Twood not do much amiss.

Ho Drawer.

Your will Sir.

Are the old Musicians in the house?

Yes Sir.

Imployed?

No Sir.

Send them in.

I shall sir.

Now Ladies are you for a melancholly Love story, or a merry Tavern catch?

O fye, Love in a Tavern is as ridiculous as wine in an Alehouse.

Then come musitians lets hear the Tavern catch I gave you when I was here last.

Yes Sir.

How like you this?

Very well.

Theres for your pains.

Theres somthing more.

Thank you Gentlemen.

Farewel,

my heart misgives me.

I am somthing startled too.

Hang't now we are in we must through.

Come, come Gentlemen, underfavour this whispering I fear portends no good.

No hurt Ile assure you.

Whether tend you Sir.

Only into the inner room Madam for more air.

Your meaning.

Very harmless.

Now while they are whispering may I civilly steal a [Page 35] glass of wine of two: I have enough I confess: but the Pro­verb saies enough will have more, and I will not cross it, yet this Canary is such a parlous liquor twill turn you a mans head so long round that at last it will set it where his heels should be (drinks) as for example.

For shame sir cease to prosecute a suit so beneath your worth, and prejudicial to my reputation: I must not hear you.

What a misery is this to be forbiden to complain.

Fie as you are a Gentleman urge it no more.

Reflect upon my misery and imitate the Gods in mer­cy.

Rather the Fiends should it be so.

I can now think you no better then a counterfeit A­theist that would desire thus to allure me from my purity.

The Gods see every thing: Nature nor Art can any thing conceal from them.

Should I be guilty of so foul a fault, I should impove­rish my self to nothing banckarupting my good Name and re­putation, which who wants is a companion for such wild peo­ple as never heard the Name of virtue, riches are fortunes tri­fles, neither to be despised nor doted on, but well us'd.

In your discourse you are too much a Stoick.

Young Ladies should not be so utterly void of all compassion.

I must leave you.

Not without hope of comfort, let me but taste of that which Crowns you famous, your Virginity.

I trespass on my Modesty to hear you, come sister.

Stay Ladies.

You have chang'd your countenance, your looks now promise you civil.

You are somthing altered too.

Ladies thus low we bend, and rather wish our knees grafted to the ground, then rise without a double pardon: not only to forgive but to forget.

Yet thus much wee'l say on our own behalfs, we had no end or aim to do as we desired, but find away to search out your affections.

Can this be true?

As Oracle.

Then rise.

But that I should.

Since now we have vow'd a constant faith on all sides, I think it requisite to work a means to compleat our happi­ness.

That we must leave to you.

But we'l plainly tell you, least hereafter you repent, we have no worldly fortune but what our outsides promise: yet within you'l find honest hearts.

That's sufficient.

My Father has Gold enough.

I and has the wit to keep it close enough.

Phew, have you no trick for that?

Troth I have a brain seldome empty of invention, Ile set my wheeles a working and make tryal of one ex­ploit.

Sister we shall be late home.

I go, Gentlemen farewel good fortune speed your study.

We shall attend you on the morrow.

We shall expect you.

Now we are new men.

New married men that shall be shortly, well may we thrive no worse in that state then we have in the Batchelors and are happy still.

But we waste time.

True we have deep chests to dive into, it requires a great deal of cunning to contrive it honestly, or at least with­out the Bar plea Fellony.

Act fourth. Scene the First.

COnvey this Letter Coz. unto my Lord Gonzetto, you know his lodgings, deliver it into his own hands.

Uncle I shall.

What are these? I must be gone.

I have a suit to you.

Or my Friends.

Most willingly.

I doubt it not Sir.

I have a friend deeply engaged (indeed contracted) to the Lady Armenia, you know her questionless.

The Lord Gonzett's Deity.

The same my question is whether you think her incli­nable to Gonzetto or any other?

Troth I think indifferent to any, but a little bending to Gonzetto by reason of the weight of riches he throws on her.

Very probable.

But he's fire all over for her.

'Tis hotly reported so sir.

Pardon me sir that I dive into your thoughts, the Gentleman you speak of is as I presume your friend by name Eusames. I am bold in explaining, but assure your self and him sir, ile be his friend and Agent and can do much with Er­menia, and will.

In so doing you will obleidge two friends at once, the one sick of Love and dispair: the other of sorrow for his friends misfortunes. I was once his poor Agent too, and then she promised faithfully to embrace him with all former love and respect: but she had no sooner set her eye upon this glis­tring Lord but she forgets her vowes as if they were of no consequence.

I know all circumstances, I will be very serviceable and I hope succesful, I shall loose opportunities, therefore for the present farewell.

To morrow sir ile waite on you, till then adieu.

Scen second.

Would he would come.

O here he is: I joy you are come Sir.

Yes I am, draw

I am ready.

Secure him in Fetters till further order.

We shall my Lord.

Ha! is it so base Gonzetto.

You are bold Sir.

You are impudent Bandogs, how am I conquered with oppression! If you are men of civility permit a Gentleman a minutes consideration, your reward shall not be wanting and the limits I'm now confin'd in, is a sufficient security for me your prisoner.

We will obleidge you so far Sir.

Do so and ile be grateful.

Unfortunate Eusames.

Scene third.

I have heard much of him.

He is our Country-man, and of rare endowments, genteel Parentage, and heir to a good fortune, had it not been consumed by his Parents, for which poor wretch he suffers.

She's very cruel to slight him, and settle her affecti­ons elsewhere considering the contract.

I shall plead Scripture and prick her conscience I fear ere she and I part.

Do so, ile work the way cross on my Lords side fare­well.

Adeiu Coz.

Well met again Sir.

I was just a going to the Lady.

'Tis too little purpose I fear.

The reason.

Why Eusames out of a mad vein this Even. challeng'd Gonzetto who met him with a Guard and clapt him up.

Scen fourth.

'TIs strange.

Well met Madam.

Thank you Sir.

I am come to chide you Madam, pardon me.

To chide me sir?

I you Madam, you once lov'd a Gentleman named Eusames.

O heavens! is my breach of sacred Covenants made common.

Nay and was contracted to him.

Too true indeed!

Too true! nay ne're repent: although his fortunes low, had you but given him content he might have rais'd him­self, indeed I needs must blame you.

Proceed no further good sir, I am touch'd to the quick, and heaven knowes I am somthing troubled.

Somthing, it must be altogether ere I leave you Ma­dam, recall that love you have setled on Gonzetto, and render it to Eusames as his due: he poor man languishes in prison for love of you by base Gonzetto's means, spend no time in re­canting but use your utmost endeavour to gain his liberty.

I can hear no more.

S'lid but you shall! unnatural woman could you think the Gods had no blessing in store for his great virtue? whose merit could purchase heaven it self.

(Reverently spoke)

Pray leave and hear me.

O are you touch'd,

Hear me? what can you say; alass invention's barren in your cause, a double fee cou'd not procure one word to stand in your defence. Did you not vow, protest and swear your self a real votaress to his desires. Did he not with a true and faithful heart when he was in his height of happiness honour & serve you. And do you think it now reason sufficient to slight and disaffect him because fortune at presant frowns upon him! [Page 44] ha! do you think there's desert in nought but money? O un­worthy? your corrupt soul belyes your form and beauty, and ere I go ile cleanse it, if that your breast be penetrable to ought thats good.

O no more!

Why should you ring and twist that heart that is already broke, I love Eusames and though orepour'd a while, I have not signifi'd the force of passion as I was wont, yet be shall soon apprehend a sudden thaw in that affection which he pre­sumed was totally anothers.

Noble maid.

Pardon the harsh conjecture that I made, ile use no more for fear my fond conceit fall into relapse, I leave you, and with such a blessing as dying Fathers give their only sons, or saints to their penetant votaries.

Scen fifth.

GOne to England.

'Tis very true sir.

Her letter declares that discontent caused her sudden departure, I hope neither of you were unkind to her.

I hope she speaks of no such thing.

Rightly she cannot.

I'm somthing troubled: but must wave it, this is a day appointed for other considerations: a happy day for your Daughters, that must make your fortunes: my great care has wrought it, and yours must be as great to entertain it: they are gentlemen at all points, that when you are married will love, embrace and chain themselves to your observance: nay a great part of their Estates too are tyed in a joynture which makes up the harmony, you are contented girls are you not?

A Husbands welcome, and as an humble wife Ile en­tertain him (but not the Him you mean) the gentleman I have well observed, and he may please too: It is your pleasure I should make him mine, and it has been still my duty to observe you.

I sir as obediently submit to your pleasure in embra­cing Cornelio.

Good girls, come lets go in then: I love your mo­desties to marrow I hope you'l look more womenly.

Scen. Sixth.

Well 'tis honestly done, but pish Ermenia can't be false: so much beauty cannot harbour a double heart, I see it is not wealth nor riches can purchase a fair soul, nor had my presents of gold ere gain'd a smile, had not the influence of my Agents eloquence work'd it. O happy man am I that shall possess that matchless beauty Venice can boast off, that honest heaven­ly heart that can't withdraw a while but must acquaint her love and Lord. VVell Cozen thou that hast been the Authour of my endless blis expect a high reward.

See here he is, welcome my noble friend, claim the per­formance of that high promised reward I gave the, upon con­dition thou couldest any way win Ermenia to marry me, see here her hand to confirm this same.

I hope by this my Lord you are assur'd she was not courted slightly.

No thou hast been diligent and work's effectually, my hand and seal to the Deputy of my Exchequer for five hundred Crowns shall be thy recompence. within there Pego.

My Lord.

Ink and paper.

'Tis at hand my Lord.

Take that and with a promise upon my honour to ad­vance the upon any request.

Your Honours bountiful, and for my part I must make an humble acknowledgment, such is my obligation to the merit that I should think my best of labours crown'd in that Act could serve you.

Thou art honest and excellent, I shall see you to mor­row questionless at the Nuptials.

'Tis very likely.

Till then farewel.

Good day to your Lordship.

Scen seventh.

UNto the Man imprisoned, black and obscure is the clear beauty of the brightest day: through Iron grates he only sees the light and thereby does encrease his misery. Those whom he doth perceive in joy to pass, augment his wretched­ness by making him to think that thus I lately was my self. But may I dye abhor'd by mankind if I repine at all. Arm ye gods my love with constancy of mind that she may never forget the love of her Eusames. O Ermenia! the exquisitest tortures that by invention ere were made, for the I would think sports and undergoe.

There he is Sir.

Ther's for thy kindness Jaylor.

Thank you sir.

How do you sir.

Well.

Not so well as I could wish you.

As well as I could wish my self and that's sufficient, you are mistaken sir in me, I am no base metal to be chang'd at every puff of wind: imprisonment is the least of terrors to daunt a true couragious heart.

Nay be not so hasty: I kindly come to visit you.

I kindly thank you then.

So sir are you sorry yet for your late desperate rudeness.

Sorry! no ile nere be sorry had I a term of life and li­berty could last for ever, and you could give it me, yes and would, for all or more i'de nere be reconcil'd to base Gonzet­to's, as ignoble in heart, as made noble by thy Titles.

Jaylor.

Double fetter him.

You are too cruel sir.

You speak in vain sir.

'Tis against the Law: he is no Fellon.

It shall be done.

It shall?

It shall. you are too bold.

No more then I can justifie. Jaylor forbear: look there high swelling Lord.

Throwes him Eusames his pardon purchased from the Duke.

My pardon purchas'd by a stranger: 'tis very strange!

'Tis very true.

Well Jaylor you may release him.

O thank your honour for nothing.

Sir for this your christian courtisie with many thanks my best of services are indebted to your kindness, and all too little to make the least part of requital, yet withall let me in­treat one addition of your love: in telling me how or which way you heard of my imprisonment, and upon what grounds you grew so kind to procure my pardon.

I heard of your imprisonment by the relation of a friend of yours named Florentio to a friend of mine, one Mr. Plot­thrift by whose perswasion and my own pitty of your suffe­rings, I obtained this grant from the Duke for your liberty, more I have to tell you, lets out of this Goal and you shall know all.

Scen eight.

NOw Gentlemen judge you whether I have not been very serviceable.

In that nature that really I think half my Estate a morgage to you.

Indeed I did not doubt your prevaling at the long run, but in so short a time that your expedition deserves a double reward.

My brother and I ere long shall study to requite you, but in the interim pray accept of a few crowns in this bag.

Well Gentlemen I thank you, and if the like or any other service lyes in me to obliege you, you may command it, for the present ile take my leave.

Are you in haste pray? if your occasions will per­mit, wee intreat your good company to a glass of excellent wine at a friends house of mine at the other end of the town.

All other concerns in me are laid aside to serve you.

Come then we'l call on my Father Avaritius and thither presently.

withall my heart.

Scen first.

I wonder they come not.

'Tis very late.

Are we set right?

Exactly in the place appointed,

Hush I hear a trampling.

Heaven send us safe home, they did ill to leave us and cross the fields so late.

Come sir fear not what small defence my sword and service may be to you shall not be wanting.

Your bag of money there, may cause some danger: and we have robbing spirits walk the streets at this time of night.

You are very timerous Sir.

Deliver all your money, or you are dead men.

O Murder, murder, murder!

Nay we'l stop your mouthing.

Hellhounds what Devil has stir'd you to this madness.

Nay we are not so mad to contend but deliver.

Villains redeliver my money or take my life and all, or ile have yours.

Nay pray Gentlemen spare my life and take all I have.

No sir first weel stop your mouth.

Now villain for you.

Come Sir take courage I have sav'd your life though to my loss of a hundred crowns.

Sir I thank you and if a thousand can make you a­mends you shall have them.

No Sir ile only desire your hand being a Justice of the peace, to a small paper which will benefit a friend of mine in a high manner.

That I would most thankfully were I but at home.

Come Sir ile see you safe at home ile warrant you.

I thank you good sir, heaven keep of a second brunt.

Nere fear it sir.

Will they not meet us agen now.

O 'tis not imaginable, they are all desperately wound­ed and they'l hold it the safer way to cure those then to come and get more.

You have a luccky hand.

Scen. sceond.

COzen I much commend you, and much more love you now then ever I did.

Your joyes will now increase, never fear it. But breach of contracts is a second hell.

What though his fortunes are at present low, when [Page 53] he injoyes content and happiness in you, you'l quickly see his virtues soon will raise him, I shall wish you much joy in him.

And so shall I.

I thank you both, and the like I shall wish you in your elections.

Why I, wee never stood wavering, but as soon as we lov'd a little struck up a blind bargain presently.

Wee found they were wits and they'l never leave working till they get wealth enough ile warrnt you.

But how will you get your portions of your father if you marry against his will.

O we never fear that the wheels of their Noddles are working for that design.

You shall see we'l be married to morrow morn, my Father well pleased by noon, we sporting in bed at night, and as loath to rise early next morn, as any two couple in Christ­endome.

Well ile pluck up a good spirit too, make a third cou­ple, and see if I can be serv'd the same sauce.

Gramercy Girl.

Hush my father knocks.

Up to my chamber.

I'm gone.

O girls had it not been for this courteous Gentle­man I had been kil'd.

Kill'd.

I, kill'd we were set upon by Rogues, Villains, Thieves but this Gentleman I thank him preserv'd me though to his loss of an hundred Crowns. Here Luci take my key of my desk, there lies a bag of two hundred or thereabouts fetch it.

I run sir.

Clara call my man bid him bring ink and paper.

I shall sir.

Pray sir sit down and assure your self whatsoever lies in poor Avaritius his power to obleige you, you may freely command, for this never to be forgotten courtisie.

Pray sir impute this no such obligation, I was bound in nature to defend you.

O Complement no more, can you obleige me more then save my life from murdering Rebels? no 'tis impossible. Then life nothing more dear.

Here accept of this in part of future recompence.

You are liberall sir.

Now sir if you'l please to produce your paper ile set my hand

Please you ile read it to you first sir.

No that will be too tedious, only tell me in two or or three words what it means.

Why a friend of mine lately taxed with a scurvy bu­siness and suspitiously imprison'd, this is a narrative of his birth and education, to which if you will be pleas'd to set your hand, as knowing him it may be a means to procure his Li­berty.

That I will willingly, lets see the pen.

Pray sir your hand for a witness.

What ist sir.

Sirrah don't dispute but write your hand.

I shall sir.

And yours Madam.

Yes sir.

Sir for to night I bid you farewell. 'Tis very late and I am very sleepy.

Be sure be ready. Is Ermenia above.

Yes.

Within this hour Ile call.

Wee'l be ready.

Farewell my Dear.

Adeiu Love till anon.

Farewell Brother.

Now fortune ile adore thee, thou hast been my Friend indeed. Thou hast sign'd me a deed that renders me a noble estate, fair Lucibella with thirty thousand Crowns is mine, the like has Cozen with his Clara, my stolen hundred Crowns are doubled too, well ile to my theiving comrogues and then go find out a Priest,

Scen third.

EXcellent.

Good.

Ha ha ha.

How savoury the old man smelt when we went about to faggot him.

How like an Owl in an Ive-bush the Rogue look'd when wee tyed him neck and heels.

And made ugly faces when we gag'd him.

O he prayes for his deliverance.

Plot thrift ile warrant you will be his bosome friend, and he has cunning enough to squeez him.

His hundred crowns ile warrant you are doubled.

They are made thousands by this time I hope or he misses of his aim.

See here he is.

Ha ha ha! Hellhounds what Devil rais'd you to this madness? ha, ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha!

How fares the old man?

O orejoyed that he's delivered: Gentlemen you are notable rogues and shall be my bosome friends as I am his, see here a slender reward that he has given me.

How Lucibela with thirty thousand crowns.

I think 'tis thirty, I'me sure twa's writ at length be­cause I wou'd not be mistaken, look agen.

The like to me with Clara, O happiness beyond ex­pression! let me hug thee for thy cunning!

I think I have plotted fairely, now nothing is wanting but a preist, the Girls are ready at a call.

Is my Ermenia with them.

Yes!

Then Sir to you I owe my life: you have loaded me with so many several obligations that I am ready to sink under their wait, and could my wishes but convert themselves into effects it should be my ambition to signifie my self an object worthy of your favours, till then I am your everlasting debtor.

You are bountiful in expression, I am more then paid in your favourable acceptance. But come lets go 'tis high time of day.

I can direct you to a priest.

You will obleige us, lead the way you must be Fa­ther to us all.

Withall my heart.

Scene fourth.

Sure some ill fortune has betided them or cross'd their designs.

Ha, ha, fearful Lucibella? fie for shame!

Better be fearful then fool hardy.

Pris. watch at the window, besure you do not nod, but give us true warning.

Do so Priscilla.

I shall be careful.

Come wenches what are you for singing or dancing.

'Tis the maddest wench, fear nothing, sure thy love is not real, else it cou'd not be so void of fear.

Well I am resolv'd to sing a song, we are all alone, and 'tis one of my own composure.

Prithee forbear.

Troth but I will, ide have you do the same and so take leave of singing clear, 'twill not be long I hope ere we loose our voices.

How wildely she talks?

Come Cozen, begin.

I'm glad ye are so merry Ladies.

I'm sorry your so nere Gentlemen.

Come 'tis not time now to chat each minuits worth an hour, come away away.

Scen fifth.

MY Masters pray be wary and serviceable, Cook see all your sauces be sharp and poynant in the pallat, that they may commend you: look to the roast and boyld meat handsomly, and what new kickshaws and other de-delicate things you made. Is the Musick come?

Yes sit they are at breakfast.

There will be dancing too, you must see this room clean: Butler let your door be opoen to all good fellows, but have an eye to the Plate for their be Furies. Peg you are for the linnen, sort it and seek it ready for the Table, and see the Bride beds made, and see the cords be not cut assunder by the Gallants too, there be such knacks abroad, so go in all to your severall duties.

I now begin to remember I sign'd a certain writing to Mr. Plotthrift last night, but what it was I know not. Zachary.

Zachary what writing was it Mr. Plotthrift desired me to set my hand too: did you see it?

No sir?

No sir, and why no sir?

Because he told you what it was and you was satisfied and bid me set my hand.

What did he tell me it was.

A Narrative of a Gentlemans condition in prison.

What, I set my hand to warrant him before me.

Some such thing sir.

Very likely: go in.

My noble Lord most hearty welcome: good mor­row noble Bridegroomes.

Thank you father, are your Daughters ready? 'tis high time for to send for the Priest.

Not yet I think: have a little patience and they'l come down presently ile warrant you, but my Lord you have not heard of my Neeces departure.

Yes sir indeed to my great grief, I sorrow much for her absence; but now perforce must study to forget I ever saw her,

She went away abruptly, without taking her leave I know no reason for't, but come my Lord and Sons that quick­ly must be will you walk into a glass of wine.

We attend you.

Scen sixth.

HO! house! who's within!

Who would you speak with?

Wher's your Master within?

Yes Sir.

Id'e desire to speak a word with him.

Here he is sir.

Sir your servant I come to beg a boon of you.

My life! no sooner ask'd but granted, name it.

I take you at your word Sir, thank you, be pleased to give me and my friend joy with your daughters.

Why are you married?

This grave Gentleman will satisfie you if you doubt it.

Abus'd cheated, gull'd, abus'd my daughters lost and undone.

How your daughters lost and undone.

I married to Vagabonds, Sychophants, and I know not whom!

Your servant Seniors, we have the Ladies.

Your servant Seniors, we have the Ladies.

Your servant my Lord I have the Lady.

'sdeath! —

Am I awake, I vow to send some to their eternal rest. And make 'em sleep for ever? —

Pray sir be well adviz'd, consider first what plea you have to commit this outrage, your honour Sir can't bear you out in't.

Sir what is done was by Avaritius free consent, so that if you find your selves abus'd in any particular: 'twas cheifly done by him.

By me? 'tis false, my Lord discredit him, meer cheats and imposters!

Come sir to satisfie you and all these Gentlemen whose misled opinions thought us meerly the actors and con­trivers in this plot, see here.

These with your own hand sign'd and seal'd in the presence of Lucibella, Clara and Pris. besides Zacharias, Tobit your clark, what say ye all ist not true?

'Tis undeniable.

How!

Most true an't shall like you sir.

I must confirm it too.

O patience!

Troth this is very well, 'tis true I alwaies thought she had too much wit for me.

Well Heavens be thanked we bear not all the baffle on our own backs, well —

I am only sorry you spent so much cull'd courtship to so little purpose

I must bear it.

I could rage too, but 'twill be to full as little effect, come Justice you ought to bear it best of all, Pox on't, this 'tis when old men must frolick and be drunk at the Tavern, cou'd you have kept your self sober on your daughters wedding e­ven, all had been well then, but now let things go how they will, Gentlemen I wish you as much joy with your Ladies as I expected.

We thank ye, Plot. Come father in Law lets hear as much from you. We'l maintain your daughters according to their birth and fortunes.

That we will.

And I your Neece according to my abillity, and what is wanting in that, ile make up with love and good husbandry.

VVhy this is some comfort, Gentlemen pardon me, I must be contented: well I forgive and give you my daugh­ters freely, and with them their portions of thirty thousand crowns a peice, you sir my Neece with twenty, and so my blessing with you all.

Thank you dear Father, and pardon us that we have choos'd those whom we lov'd and hope to live with comfort.

I hope so too.

My Lord I beg your excuse

had I not been contracted ere I knew your Honor you had been the only man should have enjoyed me, and my last letter to you was only to obleige you to be here, to see how I am bestowed in which you have honored me and I humbly thank you.

Ermenia I am not so angry, but I can tell you that my love and esteem of you is still as great as ever, though I am de­barr'd that happiness of enjoying you: yet I wish you a life so circled in with joy, that you may never breath a sigh, and when you shall grow weary of the earth become Joves dotage and be Queen of heaven, come Gentlemen be not so uncharitable but give joy.

No sir we wish all joy and happiness.

VVe thank you, come lets have a dance or two and so to dinner.

Agreed, agreed.