Knavery in all trades, or, The coffee-house a comedy : as it was acted in the Christmas holidays by several apprentices with great applause. Tatham, John, fl. 1632-1664. 1664 Approx. 91 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 21 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-11 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A63181 Wing T220 ESTC R3000 12630636 ocm 12630636 64742

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A63181) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 64742) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 336:11) Knavery in all trades, or, The coffee-house a comedy : as it was acted in the Christmas holidays by several apprentices with great applause. Tatham, John, fl. 1632-1664. [40] p. Printed by J.B. for W. Gilbertson and H. Marsh ..., London : 1664. Authorship uncertain; generally attributed to John Tatham. Cf. NUC pre-1956. "With license" Reproduction of original in Yale University Library.

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KNAVERY IN ALL TRADES: OR, THE Coffee-House. A COMEDY. As it was ACTED in the CHRISTMAS Holidays by several Apprentices With great Applause.

With LICENSE.

LONDON, Printed by I. B. for W. Gilbertson, and H. Marsh; and are to be Sold at the Royal Exchange, Fleet-Street, and Westminster-Hall, 1664.

PERSONS NAMES. COmpound, a Vintner. Rasey, his Drawer. Pickle, an Oyleman. Samphire his Man. Pepper, a Grocer. Smoak his Man. Subtler a Victualler. Froth; his Tapster. Mahoone, the Coffee-Man. Hunt-Cliffe, a Cast-Cou tier. Sweet-Lips, Wife to Compound. live, Wife to Pickle. Fraile, Wife to Pepper. Compliance, Wife to Subtler. Rampant, Wife to Mahoone. A Man servant, & A Maid servant, belonging to the Coffee-House. Several Gentlemen, and other Persons.
Knavery in all Trades. Or, the Coffee-House.
ACT I. SCENE I. Enter Froth, Rasy, and Smoake. Froth.

I Have made an escape as hard as one of Iupiters to see thee, Rasy; The heat of our morning business is over; and now my Stomack's more raw and cold then the weather; therefore prithee one half Pint of the best, if thou lov'st me.

Rasy.

I know thy meaning, thou shalt have it Lad in a pint Pot.

Exit.
Smoake.

An hon st Rogue I warrant him.

Froth.

Here can I drink at any time a Pint of Sack would make a Cat speak Greek or Hebrew for a Groat.

Smoake.

'T must be thy Grandams groat, then.

Froth.

A good plain Harry, or a Besses do'st, or any Coyne will tantamount to four-pence.

Smoake.

How, man?

Froth.

True man; there's an Art in't will puzel all the Poets and Legerdemane—men living. A friend in a corner is as good as a penny in a man's Purse, I need say no more.

Smoake.

'Tis good, to be acquainted with such a friend.

Froth.

Creep e're you go; deserve him first, every man is not Froth, I nick you there; one courtesie requires another, so much for that, ka me, ka thee.

Enter Rasy. Rasy.

Score a pint of White-Wine in the Rose there.

Smoake.

White-Wine! we call'd for Sack.

Froth.

Pass by his Ignorance; friend hast thou a Pallat? here's to thee.

Smoake.

By all the Wares in my Master's shop, and my Mistresses Compter too, excellent Sack.

Rasy.

Hold your peace, cannot you fare well, but you must cry Roast-meat?

Froth.

This Smoak is such a vapour.

Smoake.

Are you for a Pipe? I have right speciall in my Box.

Froth.

Would choak a Dog I warrant it.

Smoake.

The best Spain affords I promise you.

Froth.

I care not if I take a whiffe,—what say'st thou Rasy?

Rasy.

I dare not, 'tis too soon, come, mind your drinking, one Quart more, that's pint a piece, and we have done.

Froth.

Gramercy, honest Rasy; and so have at thee.

Smoake.

Bring a Light, and Pipes too.

Rasy.

Well, I shall.

Exit Rasy.
Froth.

Now sirrah, say I've brought you acquainted with a trusty Trojan, one that does prize his friend, that's such as I am, that scornes to be behind hand in requital. If thou wilt be of our Society, then study that.

Smoake.

By this hand thou know'st I am as prodigall of my Master's Goods as another can be of his; If I can serve Rasy in any thing relates to our Trade he shall command me.

Froth.

why, that's well said; I'le tell him so.

Smoak.

Pray do, I warrant him a witty fellow: I like his way of scoring White-Wine for Sack, 'tis ingenious, & undiscoverable.

Froth.

Unless the Master come into the Room, and smell into the Pot.

Smoak.

That's but a hazard, and care must mannage it.

Froth.

Thou dost inspect well.

Smoak.

I am not ignorant of good fellowship Froth; and have been at the like sport in the City, when the visible Pint of Sack has past the Barr, and the merry quart Bottle by cleanely conveyance brought in the Breeches, & dedicated to good fellows; & now & then (as the house fills, and Company resolv'd to stay,) a Quart scor'd in the Crown and brought to us in the Myter, for which the elevated Gentlemen pay, and we pass upon Paroll, that is, to return again, and be merry upon the like accompt; and these are kindnesses I meet withall.

Froth.

And how dost thou requite 'em.

Smoak.

Know Froth, I hate to be ingrate, I will not boast my doing ; but while my master has Rasons, Currans, Figs, Sugar, Nutmeg, Cloves, all sorts of Spices and Tobacco, they shall march in Pounds and Ounces to my friends, Lads.

Enter Rasey. Froth.

Thou wilt deserve us then; come sprightly Rasey, we thirst for thee.

Rasey.

As I'm a Christian the b st Gentlemen comes to the house tasts not better; and so my love to you.

Froth.

Thou dost well, here's one that would be one of us, and though I say it an intelligible puppy, one will come to hand upon a good occasion; Mr. Pepper's man the Grocer.

Rasey.

How do you call him Gynney?

Froth.

No Smoak, or what you will, but certainly his proper name is Smoaker, for that the Pipe is ne're out of his mouth; however he's good natur'd, and true hearted.

Rasey.

The fitter for our Company.

Froth.

He swears he is so ta'ne with thine, thou shalt not want any thing his Masters Shop affords.

Rasey.

I thank ye, Froth knows me well enough.

Froth.

And thou know'st me well enough Rasey:

Rasey.

I Rogue, we are brothers.

Smoak.

I hope you will intitle me too, and if you want a fourth man, I'le bring one that is true blew, an Oyle-man's Apprentice, who shall furnish you better, and with more variety then he that cryes your Olives, your Capers, your Samphire, your Barbaries, your Cowcumbers, your Anchoves, and your new Pickl'd Oysters, and cost you nothing.

Froth.

By all means let's know him.

Smoak.

A kind soul, and will spend his Money freely too.

Rasey.

Or else he does nothing,—will he Game.

Smoak.

I never try'd him.

Froth.

Now thou talk'st of Gaming, what's become of the little Dapper Clark, how does he hold out?

Rasey.

Pox take him, he won four pound of me but t'other day, I hope to retreive it.

Smoak.

Thou hast only drawn him in.

Rasey.

No, hang him, were he as good at Clerkship as he is at Gaming, he'd get more Money then his Hide could carry.

Smoak.

Is he so good at it.

Rasey.

It is his prayers and his daily bread; and yet I know sometimes he wants a dinner, but that is when his Mint is broke and he wants recruting; for the best of Gamsters does not alwayes winne, and then the Rogue will spend high when he has it, Whores a little, and keepes himself neat and trim, fit for good Company.

Smoak.

By this hand Rasey, now we are Brothers (for I will be so whether thou wilt or no) if thou beest excellent at that sport, I will bring thee acquainted with such a young fry of Apprentices thou shalt want for no Commodities.

Froth.

By this hand I'le go snip, and so shalt thou.

Rasey.

Agreed, agreed.

Smoak.

Why should not we four that is our brother Oyleman, (as yet unknown to you,) our brother Vintner here, our brother Tapster, and Ego my own self, brother to all, love one another? the Drapery, and the Mercery Pedees comply to cheat their Masters in gross, to please their Concubines, ('twere Porter like to say Whors,) & we never cheat our Masters but in parcels to please our selves and keep up merry Society, and for ought I know our Masters are greater Cheats then we are, what say you Brothers.

Rasey.

A learned speech, you have hit right,— within, why Rasey. I come, I come; the truth on't is I could say something as to our own calling, as to Balme and Shamlee, the merry mixtures, stumings, and sophistications, but it is an ill Bird defiles its own Nest they say; and truly I think it not necessary for a man to discover the adulterations and deceits in his own Calling.

Froth.

Though we can say something as to our Callings too, 'tis wisdome to hold our peace, the truth on't is, Cheating like the Wandring Iew is every where; but of all cheats I hate your Coffee-House cheat.

Rasey.

Why a Turk's as bad as a Iew, if not worse.

Smoak.

For my part I think they are principl'd alike.

Rasey.

But the vanity of our Nation is such, that rather then we shall cheat'em they'l bring in the divel to do't.

Smoak.

A Song in three parts, the Iew, the Turk, and the Devil.

Froth.

Troth Rasey some of your quality are serv'd in their kind, and suffer for their own sinnes, what had they to do to take anothers calling upon them, to sell Ale in silver Tankerds, ordered with Sugar, and a nick name, and sell it for 6d. a Pint, half pint? and then Beer put into a Rhenish Wine Cask and sold for March Beer, strew'd with a little Sugar at a groat a Tankerd, and all to cozen the poor Victualler.

Rasey.

That my Master was never guilty of.

call within Rasey. Froth.

I do not say he was.

Rasey.

I am coming,—howe're I have a plaguy spleen at the Coffee-House that cheats us all.

Smoak.

No, he cheats not us, we furnish him with Tobacco, and he payes honestly, but still he is but a Turk as the Song goes.

Rasey.

Would I could meet with some Poet that would handle the Humours of the Coffee-House a little, as I'm a Christian I'd be civil to him.

Froth.

I know one, Rasey, that does love thee dearly; I must confess he cares not much for me, yet he will take his mornings draught in Ale, to please his company, but Sack is his best mistress, Coffee he abhominates.

Rasey.

Prithee bring him hither.

Call within, why Rasey. Froth.

He has been here, and thou canst not but know him.

Rasey.

I come, I come,—I am more call'd upon, then any servant in the house; look you there's my Groat,—pay at the Barr, I'le take the Quart-pot down into the Cellar.

Froth.

Here's our two Groats, prithee do thee pay the Reckoning.

Rasey.

I will.

Smoak.

Deer Rasey I am thy humble servant, by this hand when next we meet I will requite this kindness.

Froth.

You Rogue I must have a pound of Verina's, for a friend in the mean time.

Smoak.

Thou shalt have it.

Froth.

Come go to our house and't shan't cost thee a farthing stay all day.

Smoak.

I dare not do that.

Exeunt.
ACT I. SCENE II. Enter Mahoone and his Maid. Mahoone

YOu damm shade ver be de hore your Metres, and de shack nape dogbolt Rog a me man, begar dis devell Vife mind nothing in de Varld but de foke she spoil all a de men me keep, she he a de Bed to breed leshery, and call a me men to rub her Gumms, begar, and let me do all a de varke my self; ver be de hore you shade.

Maid.

My Mistress forsooth.

Mahoone.

Yes a dat Bish.

Maid.

She is rising forsooth.

Mahoone.

De gran pock take her pour me, vat ave you done vid de milke for de Chocolet?

Maid.

It is within Sir.

Mahoone.

Vid in, diable be vid in der be no ting in de Pan begar.

Maid.

It is in the Bole forsooth.

Mahoone.

Vat boll you shade? de boll ver dat hore your Metres do pish.

Maid.

Yes forsooth.

Mahoone.

Fesh me de Boul hedder; it vill be day presant de Company come to de owse, noting for dem begar; call de dog Rog a my man.

Maid.

Yes forsooth.

Exit Maid.
Mahoone.

O de devell? dis hore Bish my vife no come yet? a begar; he dat marry de Anglish woman marry the Serpent, de Snake in bosome, de devell and all, dey do noting but keep a deire Bed and tink on dyable, vat be dis? vere be de milk you shade.

Enter Maid with the Boul. Maid.

The Cat it seemes has lapt it up Sir.

Mahoone.

A de Dog, bish Cat, de shade my maid, de hore mine vife, and the Dog hores son my man, begar dey will undo me, fesh me de Eggs you damm shade.

Maid.

Yes forsooth.

Mahoone.

Hore, you shall no yes a forsoot, me go my self you be de lucky hore shade you shal no go.

Exit Mahoone.
Maid.

A body had better be out of their life then live with such a mandring hell hound, he'l find the Eggs broke too, and then I shall lead such a life all this day.—

Enter Mahoone with Egg shells in a Basket. Mahoone.

O diable! vere be de Eggs you shade, bish, damm bish hore, shade vere be de Eggs? eere be de Sells? you shade hore vere be de Eggs?

Maid.

You see, they are broke sir.

Mahoone.

Broak a, you damm shade old Nick break a your neck, pour dat broak! begar you damm shade, de hore my vife, and de dog Rog a my man break me to sivers, to noting by and by; me vill no dure dis begar, take you dat varming one, two, tree, four times.

Maid.

I could not help it sir.

Mahoone.

Elpe it! begar you elp noting,—O shack Rog my dog man, very good time ven all my tings be spoild den you come a de luck on't.

Enter his man rubbing his eyes. Man.

Why sir 'tis not so late, 'tis not day yet.

Mahoone.

Begar dat be brave no day yet! dat be very fine; shacknape vill you lie abed pour de day? begar you be no servan pour moy, Myne Trade be in de Nite Ater de Teefe break de owse ver ave dey to come but to de Coffee-Owse? vere come a de young Clerks, de Prentices ven dey be drinc but to the Coffee-Owse? ver come de Plotters, de men of designe, but to de Coffee-Owse? and in de Nite; the best time; begar dey be de best Customers too; begar dey drink mush of de Coffee, and mush of de Chocolet begar: now be you no Rog shack dog?

Man.

I am no Rogue nor no Dog.

Mahoone.

Begar you be de Rog and de dog, you be de one, two, tree, four, sis Rogs and de dogs, me tell you dat now.

Wife.

Bless me what ado is here, what's the matter?

Enter his Wife. Mahoone.

De matter! go hang your self shade hore, begar you be de hore of all de Varld.

Wife.

I, I, we know your words no slander.

Mahoone.

Begar you vid dis shack dog, dis shack nape, dis ogoly cur my man and no mind my business, de Eggs be broke, and de milk a be spild for de Chocolet.

Wife.

Is that it, have you made all this din for a little flatten milk, and a few rotten Eggs, they all stood you not in three pence.

Mahoone.

No matter for dat; dough the milk be stale, de etter to make a de Chocolet, dough de ggs be rotten dey be better for de Chocolet, and den de Sugar make all fine begar: but you be carless, mind noting for your profit, let all de Rog in de Town come upon you, every Barber, Fidilere, Tayleer and Tapster be all Turks, now begar, and sell de Coffee Bougra de Anglish dey be all sheats begar, me can live better in any place of de varld den in dis Country, me travail every vere and no man take mine Trade from me, and dis be all long a you, may foy, you tell my gredience to every body, pock take you for your paine.

Wife.

You are alwayes so jealouse of me sweet-heart.

Mahoone.

Diable sweet art; begar you be de cunning hore, me jealouse of you ha, ha, he, ave me no reasons you shade, begar me ave no Chocolet pour de Company to day, and de Coffee two tree Gallons begar de pock shack dog, de Cat sirreverence into de Caldron, faugh, faugh, fe, fe, fe.

Man.

Oh sir let it boyl well, a Dog or Cats Turd is as good as the Berry it self, 'twill give a rare hogo sir, and make the drink the better.

Mahoone.

De better! dat be very fine, you make me leeve a dat, but me no care, it shall do,—you damm shade go your waies and knock de devil up for some Eggs and some Milk, begar me loose vun silling by dis business, devil fesh you for a hore.

Wife.

You are a foul mouth base fellow.

Mahoone.

Begar me took you from Dog and Bish-yard and made you de woman, and you prove de hore, de damm hore a de varld.

Wife.

If I were never so bad I were good enough for a damn'd Turk.

Mahoone.

Diable! me kick you begar unto de Devell, and make you de hore of de House.

Maid.

Good Master.—

Man.

I pray, sir.—

Wife.

Let the Rogue come, the Renegado Rogue, I'le give him his Passport.

man and maid stand between Them. Mahoone.

Vat, have you got your Shampians here you hore, Bish, shade, dis be very fine. knock. So much for dat,—get you up de Shamber, the Company come in; me make no noise, open de door you shack dog, and you shade my maid; get you de Milk and de Eggs Presto: begar me vill do strange ting 'fore Nite.

Wife.

Hang you Raskall.

Exeunt severally.
ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Hunt-Cliffe, and Mrs. Sweet-Lips. HVnt-Cliffe.

How now, where's thy Husband?

Sweet-Lips.

Gone into the City.

Hunt-Cliffe.

How has he look'd on thee since he Trapan'd us at Epsome, prithee?

Sweet-Lips.

With the same eyes he did before, and as lovingly faith la, only sometimes he'l tell me jestingly 'twas a wild frolique in me; and so it was indeed, we might have been far more securely merry neerer hand.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Do'st think he is not Jealouse?

Sweet-Lips.

If he be, he shewes it not.

Hunt-Cliffe.

How does he speak of me?

Sweet-Lips.

Very well faith La; he thinks you a right honest man, and shall not loose a penny by ye, he had rather trust you then a hundred Courtiers.

Hunt-Cliffe.

I believe him, 'tis safer to trust one Man then a Hundred. What wilt thou drink this morning?

Sweet-Lips.

Any thing.

Hunt-Cliffe.

A Cup of Hypocras, 'twill warme thee within Wench; come kiss me, poor Rogue dost not want a Course this morning?

claps her Cheeks. Sweet-Lips.

You talk wildly, you have not slept to night well certainly. Who's at Barr there? within anon, anon. Rasey bring a Cup of Hypocras for Mr. Hunt-Cliffe enter Rasey. here, and make a Toast.

Rasey.

I shall forsooth.

Exit Rasey.
Sweet-Lips.

I hope dear Hunt-Cliffe you are no friend unto the Coffee-House.

Hunt-Cliffe.

I hate the Liquor perfectly, give me the Sack, it breeds good Blood.

Sweet-Lips.

The other is a dryer, a monstrous dryer, and the greatest enemy unto th'affaires relate unto our Sex that can be; if you love me you must hate that, my Husband is too much addicted to't.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Let fools, and Sots affect it, Wisemen sleight it.

Enter Compound. Compound.

Oh Squire Hunt-Cliffe, how fares your body?

Hunt-Cliffe.

It will fare better by and by, we wait for Wine.

Enter Rasey with the Wine and Toast. Sweet-Lips. But new come in I protest my Dear—look thee, the Wine is not toucht yet. Hunt-Cliffe.

Come, here's to thee, 'tis Hypocras man.

Compound.

I care not, I've newly drank Coffee.

Hunt-Cliffe.

What? an enemy to thy own Calling!

Compound.

Some two or three hours hence I'm for you:

Hunt-Cliffe.

I shall Sup here to Night.

Sweet-Lips.

And welcome too, Sir.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Some friends of mine are newly come to Town, I am oblig'd to Treat.

Sweet-Lips.

What will you have provided sir?

Hunt-Cliffe.

A douzen of Cocks, and half a douzen of Teale, as many Partridges, and a couple of Pullets, will do the business.

Sweet-Lips.

They shall be ready sir.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Twixt six and seven.

Compound.

I like not things that run at six and sevens.

Hunt-Cliffe.

I prithee fail me not.

Compound.

You have my Wife's word for't sir.

Hunt-Cliffe.

I must to Court about some special business; add this Wine to my Accompt.

Exit Hunt-Cliffe.
Compound.

So—to your Accompt! I think you'l make no Accompt on't, still scoring: I never saw a penny of his Money.

Sweet-Lips.

He brings good Company to the House, my Dear:

Compound.

And alwayes scores his part o'th Reckoning; a pretious purchase, what will begot at last by such a Customer? prithee wilt hold out?

Sweet-Lips.

He'l pay thee all my Dear, I'le warrant it.

Compound.

Nay, then I'm in a likelihood indeed to be well paid, if you be his Security.

Sweet-Lips.

Not so neither my Dear; his Money he sayes will come up very shortly.

Compound.

It has been long a coming, and the truth is, would I could see't once, I have small mind to trust him longer.

Sweet-Lips.

As you please for that my Dear; but take my word the Gentleman's a very civil Gentleman.

Compound.

I wish he prove so.

Exeunt. Enter Mrs. Fraile, and Smoak. Mrs. Fraile.

What, does you Master think to Coope me up in his Counter? faith sir no, he takes his pleasure, and I'le take mine; let him look to his Comodities himself, I have other Comodities in Town to look after beside his, and as I take it a great deal better: if he calls for me when he comes in, tell him I'm gone to see my sister Touchstone.

Smoak.

I shall forsooth.

Mrs. Fraile.

And I pray keep you the house, though your shoos be made of running Leather.

Smoak.

Yes, yes.

Exit.
Enter Mrs. Olive. Fraile.

Sister Olive, how dost thou do?

Olive.

I came purposely to see you.

Fraile.

Wilt go along with me to th' Play?

Olive.

No, no, I dare not.

Fraile.

How dare not! art thou a fool, I'd fain see whether my Husband could bring me to that pass or not, I believe I should break his heart first.

Olive.

Oh fie, do not say so.

Fraile.

I protest I should, why, woman we were not born to be their slaves, 'tis our selves make our selves so.

Olive.

You talk merrily.

Fraile.

And so might'st thou, had'st thou not been a fool; thy own good nature first subjected thee; and now thy Husband keepes thee at a Beck; thou wert an humble Worme and he'l tread on thee, spurn thee to nothing, triumph in his Tyrany, and thou remaine a Mome, a suffering Idiot.

Olive.

You wrong my Husband there, he scornes to beat me.

Fraile.

But he does worse, he pinches back or belly; or else thy Purss I'm sure'on't; he'l not spare thee a penny to buy Pepins or scarce Pinns.

Olive.

He's somewhat wary I confess, but not so bad, as you would make him.

Fraile.

There's our sister Touchstone the Goldsmith's Wife, she leades a life as merry as the day is long.

Olive.

The happier she; and yet you do not hear me complain, I am contented.

Fraile.

So are patient fooles; but women that have wit, are not so tame: if thou wilt see a Play it shall cost thee nothing, I'le warrant thee a Ticket, sh'as a friend, a Player, a pretty fellow that at any time will pleasure her, and her friends too.

Olive.

I do not love to buy my pastime at so dear a rate.

Fraile.

How like an Asse thou talk'st, 'tis wonderous pritty to have a Player hand us into the House; and when the Play is done out to the Tavern, where we are merry, Laugh untill we tickle.

Olive.

Without your Husbands!

Fraile.

Or we were worse then mad; yet now and then Touchstone, himself comes to us, an easie natur'd man, full of beliefe, dare trust the Player and his wife together, even in the Bed he is so fond of both.

Olive.

Oh fie upon't, there will no good come on't.

Fraile.

And if her friend take her to Finsbury, (as now and then we must go see our Cosen supposed living somewhere,) she leaves word, and he perhaps soberly followes after, and if she's gone from thence, or never was there, she is prepar'd with an excuse for either, 'gainst she comes home; your Players are huge witty and fit a Woman for that purpose rarely; which the good man does hugg with eager credit, and gives his friend thanks for the care he had of his dear wife. This is the fruit of Tickets; now if you'l see a Play, be one of us, we'l find you Tickets and your Husband too.

Olive.

I am not grown so desperate I thank you, nor you I hope, although you talk so wildly.

Fraile.

Is mirth term'd wildness then? prithee turn Recluse, shut thy self up in shop, and stinck a Moneth, then come abroad to ayre thy self, and see who will indure thy Company; what, deny to see a Play? refuse a noble Ticket? tha'rt Earth already, doubtless.

Olive.

'T makes no matter, you'l ticket it so long that at the last I fear you'l come behind hand in your Reckoning; I'le trouble you no more sweet Mistress Fraile.

Exit.
Fraile.

'Tis not desir'd, good Robin Wisdomes Daughter. The Baggage though has toucht me to the quick; pox take the Reckoning, would it might miscarry, but if it be, here's one I'm sure concern'd in't.

Enter Hunt-Cliffe. Hunt-Cliffe.

What talking to thy self?

Fraile.

A thing came in my head that did direct my eyes down to my Belly, but let that pass—methinks y'are mighty smug as though you came but lately from your dear beloved Sweet-Lips.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Now thou vexest me; I must confess she courts me with as eager an appetite as ever, but I slight her, the thought of thee drawes all my faculties unto their proper center thy dear Bosome; but why so trim art thou for walking, love?

Fraile.

I am invited by a friend of mine, a sprightly jovial Girle, one I call sister, to see a Play.

Hunt-Cliffe.

I prithee what's her Name?

Fraile.

One that is not in your List I promise you; fie Hunt-Cliffe fie, will you ne're leave enquiring after new Faces, where's the love to me you seem so much to glorifie your self in?

Hunt-Cliffe.

Dost thou distrust my love, dear heart, my soul and all that do belong to't are thy Vassals: the Light's not constanter unto the day, then I to thee, and dost thou doubt me dearest?

Fraile.

Nay, nay, with her I dare adventure thee, she is my friend, I know she will not wrong me, besides she has a friend some say dare fight, and he a strict eye carries over her.

Hunt-Cliffe.

So let him; thou art my Hysperides. But hear thee is my Band and half shirts done?

Fraile.

They'l be brought home within a day or two. Will you go with us to the Play?

Hunt-Cliffe.

If you command me, but you know my stock is low, my Moneys will not come to Town this moneth yet, and I hate when I'm frolique to be scanted.

Fraile.

I have a Piece; doubtless she'l bring another to serve her friend; and that will do't I warrant thee.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Well I'm thy servant still.

Exeunt: Enter Smoak and Samphire. Smoak.

What wind drove thee this way?

Samphire.

The breath of my Mistresses commands, I am sent to a Customer with these two Barells of Anchoves.

Smoak.

When wilt thou remember me:

Samphire.

Oh—for thy friends Rasey and Froth.

Smoak.

I you Rogue did you not promise it.

Samphire.

And will perform't I vow with the first opportunity— where's thy Mistress? I need not ask for thy Master, I know where he is, he and mine are at the old sport, the merry game.

Smoak.

And my Mistress is at hers by this time or I'm mistaken, she'l not be one of the last couple in Hell I warrant her.

Samphire.

A shrew'd woman able to break a man's back if he had no other wayes to do't, but I've a Mistress so far from those wayes, she is as modest, as loving, and as carefull a wife as any in the City; when he has been out all night and perhaps lost twenty or thirty pound at Dice, she takes no notice on't, but bids him welcome home i'th morning with all the sweet words she can devise, gives him a Cawdle, has him to bed, and there he sleeps till three or four a Clock i'th afternoon, & then he's ready for the sport agen.

Smoak.

A brave woman, mirour of Patience.

Samphire.

Nay, I've o're heard him swear unto himself, he fear'd he should be damn'd for wronging so good a wife, and by this hand the very thought of her sets me into a trembling; when I'm about to steal Oyle, Oysters, Anchoves, or any other Comodity to pleasure a friend, but when I consider that it cannot last, and he must break if he holds on his course, I then take hardy grace and make me friends of the unrighteous Mammon.

Smoak.

Let me not live if't ben't the wisest course, I promise you I practice it, I find my Master draw one part of the house his way, and my Mistress drawes another part her way; and if I (lying in the Shop) don't draw another part my way, let the Rafters of the house fall upon my head.

Samphire.

I like that well, there is but one way to that Wood, a false Key, my friend.

Smoak.

I hope thou dost not think me unprovided of such an Engine.

Samphire.

We shall be brothers by and by, how could I else (my Mistress being so over—vigilant,) accomodate my friends and my self too, and send Time merrily about his business.

Smoak.

Froth has the same trick too, and so has Rasey (but not a word but mum I charge thee Samphire,) we can keep at our Randevouze from one till five i'th morning, and enter the Tenements with such security as though we had been Tenents there all night.

Samphire.

When shall we meet?

Smoak.

I'le give thee notice.

Samphire.

shall we not drink together?

Smoak.

A Cup or two at the next door, I'le get a friend to take care of my Shop the while, and call me if need be—Remember Rogue your promise to my friends.

Samphire.

Pugh, we'l talk of that by and by.

Exeunt. Enter Subtler, Complyance delivered (as in the Barr,) and Froth attending. Subtler.

I protest I never knew such bad Trading in my life.

Froth.

Every one complaines sir, except the Coffee-Houses, and they are never empty.

Subtler.

They are some hinderance indeed, especially in a morning, but we have Interlopers neerer us, God bless us from a Gun; each paltry Coachman, Butler, or Cast-serving-man now set up the Victualling Trade; the time has been, we have not had a Room empty before this time o'th day, that Company (as one may say) have sat on one anothers Lap.

Complyance.

And many turn'd away too, sweet heart, which we would willingly now entertain:

Subtler.

Pox take their Receptacles, how do they fill, below?

Froth.

ut thinly truly sir, take one time with another I believe our Custome is as great as theirs.

Subtler.

I think not, Froth; I do not find it so in my Accompts, and yet I understand not any reason why Gentlemen should forsake my house, I never was wanting in my due respects and regard towards them, and have endeavoured to please all Companyes, and distast none.

Complyance.

That has been my care too sweet heart.

Froth.

Some men think themselves bound to come alwaies to one house, and love to see the fashion of others, you know sir new Brooms sweep clean; and new Comers promise much to Customers.

Subtler.

And performe as little after a while; but I have been civil to many, not only trusted 'em with my Comodities, but lent 'em money out of my Purss, which is not yet discharg'd; methinks Gentlemen (as they are Gentlemen) (I name no man,) should think of such civilities, I see 'em daily frequent those places, (though they think they dance in Tenibris) and could take a course that would not please 'em, but I had rather (and 'twould be part of satisfaction to me) enjoy 'em at my house as formerly, for I owe much civility to a Gentleman, and 'twould go 'gainst the hair for me to trouble 'em.

Complyance.

Yet Gentlemen should do like Gentlemen.

Subtler.

That's true sweet heart, but every like is not the same. D'ye see how they flock in yonder? I protest if we have no better Trading, I shall never leave thee money enough when I am dead, to be marry'd in thy white Sattin Gown to another, as thy Predecessor was; no, no, Hercules then supported but one victualling house, and now he has three. Watches. More Company—they are past the Gun—and the Crown—they come hither now I warrant ye—welcome Gentlemen.

Enter two or three Gentlemen. 1. Gent.

Give us that when we are going

Complyance.

What are you pleas'd to have?

2. Gent.

A Brick—and what—

1. Gent.

Halfe a Brest of Mutton.

Complyance.

You shall—shew a Room there.

Exeunt. Froth.

Will you please to walk in?

Enter 2. or 3. more: Subtler.

Here are more sweet heart—welcome Gentlemen—why where are you there? shew these Enter Servant. Gentlemen a Room.

Complyance.

What will you please to have Gentlemen?

1. Gent.

How—what say you! a couple of Chickins.

2. Gent.

I, I.

Complyance.

What Bread Gentlemen?

1. Gent.

No Brick; Manchet, and fresh Beer.

Complyance.

You shall Gentlemen, will you please to walk in?

Enter two or three Clerks. Exeunt. 1. Clerk.

Mr. Subtler how d'ye?

Subtler.

The better to see you all well Gentlemen—where are you there—does no man hear me? shew these Gentlemen a Room.

Enter Froth. Froth.

Y'are welcome Gentlemen.

Complyance.

What are you pleas'd to have?

2. Clerk.

A Ma chet or two, and your best Butter.

1. Clerk.

and a Cup of nappy Ale.

Froth.

That I'le promise you Gentlemen—will you walk in?

Enter two or three more. Exeunt. Subtler.

Here are more Compa y sweet heart.

Complyance.

I hope thou hast complain'd without a cause, it may prove a good Morning.

Subtler.

Happy be lucky—where are you there? shew these Gentlemen a Room.

Enter Servant. Complyance.

What will you please to have?

First.

A Role, and a Cup of your best Ale.

Second.

Bring me a single pot of Purle.

Complyance.

You shall, you shall.

Exeunt. The Scene is drawn.
ACT the Third. Enter Pepper and Pickle. Pepper.

HE has pickl'd you.

Pickle.

And pepper'd you (my friend) or I'm mistaken.

Pepper.

A pox take all ill luck, who brought him to us?

Pickle.

The Devil upon Dun's back I think, I'm sure I've lost seven pound.

Pepper.

And I'm not much behind thee, dost think he did not put the slirr, upon us were his Dice right?

Pickle.

Right for his purpose doubtless.

Pepper.

I know not, but as I could guess he play'd the square.

Pickle.

And we the Coxcombs, now could I hang my self to think upon the Carke and care my Olive takes at home.

Pepper.

I shall not fret my neck for that matter, for I have one as careless as thine is carefull, and faith we are well met; if I chance to eat a Spider I hope thou'lt visit my Carcase in the Grave, ycliped Ludgate; there are as merry Worms as heart can wish boy.

Pickle.

Be no Lillyan Rogue, Predict not; I fear my Stars e're long will direct me that way, if I become thy fellow Collegiate once. A short life and a merry life we'l cry; in the mean time let's tope a Pint at the Rose and so march home.

Exeunt. En er two or three Gentlemen. Gent.

Tom, wilt drink a Glass of Wine, or Break-fast with us?

2 Gent.

Neit her.

I am but just come from the Coffee-House, and must not drink, nor eat till Dinner time.

3 Gent.

An imposition ridiculous! and he's but shallow brain'd inclines to keep it.

2 Gent. That's your opinion, but I find it otherwise: If I abstain not some few houres, it will not Operate effectually. 3 Gent.

Dares the Turks Bill avouch that Language! he has stollen it from Salvator Winter the grand Operator; tell him I'le justify't.

1 Gent.

Did'st not mind his words? a said he must abstain, or 'twould not do: his Body's then beholding more to Abstinence then to the Liquor; and I will maintain't a Cup of Ale-berry, or Warme-Broth exhibited to his small Guts, observing lesser time then now he foolishly prescribes himself, shall actuate in all parts of his Body, and do his business better.

3 Gent.

Abandon it. A currish cynicall Drink; I am perswaded the first Inventer was Diogenes Canes, an utter Enemy to sweet Society.

1. Gent.

It is suppos'd (and credited by most) the Berry grew upon a Bramble, neer the River Stix, and the Devil to congratulate his Coze the Turk, after a mighty slaughter, made on the Christians, sent a graft of it to Turkey, where it since hath spread it self, and like to Locus over-run the Country; That it being grown both troublesome, and loathsome, the Turk (to ridd his Country of't) Transports it, and sends it by the basest of his People, with a large sale of most Non-sensicall virtue, to vend it 'mongst the Christians, and so poyson 'em.

3 Gent.

Much probabillity in't, believe me, Tom; for look but on the colour of the Liquor, and if it don't resemble Stix in self, ne're trust Complexions, nor believe old Poets; and then the Scent on't does conclude it came from old Gehenna, Lucifers deep Furnace, a stench to stifle virtue and good manners.

2. Gent.

A learned Lecture!

1 Gent.

Nay, 'tis most pernitious unto the brain, it fires the Pericranium, disorders all the faculties, presents Ideas most delusive; Treason, Murder, (the hand helpes to ambition) twins of villany: Brutus ('tis thought) drank heartily of it when he design'd the death of Royal Caesar; and Cataline Caroust it with more greediness, then th' blood of slaves; The Fryar that murder'd Harry the Fourth of France drank of it; Vaux and Noll (the last grand Conspirator) tost it up and made no bones on't: (Treason went down merrily.) It is a drink fit for dark Lanthorn men, but such as love their reason, and the light, will walk our way (boy) drink good Sack, and laugh.

2 Gent.

Prithee let me go, do not bayt me thus.

1 Gent.

As I'm a friend to goodness, 'tis my fear (if thou continu'st longer in thy error) thou'st be detected in some Pamphlet, for an Idiot, but a man of far design. I would not have Treason lurke under this thin hide of thine, for there the danger lies, or Caesar speaks untruth, (with Reverence.)

2 Gent.

All this won't do.

3 Gent.

But mark the folly, Tom, of you Coffee-House hunters you pretend it does preserve your health, keepes you alive better then the Juice of Li num vite, or Aqua-Mirabilis; when (for pr batum) the e was hang'd last Sessions a pretious Pick-pocket that drank it frequently, and with the like observance, as thou d st; and yet you see, mortus est, nay, I am confident, that had'st thou brought a Gallon on't to th' Gallowes, and made him drink it, 'twould not have sav'd his life: where rests the virtue of your Horse-pond-Liquor then?

2 Gent.

Well, well, this noice converts me not nor will I drink with ye.

1 Gent.

Go hang thy self Iew; better Company will.

There will be ten Pound offer'd ere't be long, to bring some Traytor in, and I hope to find thee.

2 Gent.

Pugh, if that be all do your worst.

3 Gent.

Farwell burnt bread and pudle water.

Exeunt severally. The Coffee-House discovered; three or four Tables set forth, on which are placed small Wax-Lights, Pipes, and Diurnalls. Enter Mahoone triming up the Tables, his Man ordering the Fire-pots and China Cups, his Wife in the Barr, his Maid imployed about the Chocolet. Mahoone.

Vat be you doing dere, hore, shade?

Maid.

I am making the Chocolet, sir.

Mahoone.

make a de devell! be de Chocolet to make now? bougra! de damm hore, bish, shade, vill break a me, begar; she put in to a mush Milk: you shade, hore, une quart a de Milk, and deux quarts o de vater, vid one two Eggs, and a little Sugar make a de boone Chocolet may foy. Vife, pray you look to her, begar she be de hore a de house,—velcome, velcome, you been velcome.

Enter 2. or 3. first.

Monsieur Mahoone? Bon jour.

Mahoone.

Diable de Monsieur; me be no French man, me be de Country of de Turk.

second.

You imitate their broken dialect.

Mahoone.

Me travel all the Varld, me speak all de Lingua; damm a de Frensh, me love a de Anglish, dix temps better, by our great Prophet Mahomet. Vat vill you drinc?

third.

Coffee, bring me a Cup of Coffee.

1. & 2.

And us the like.

Mahoone.

You shack dog mind, a your business. ver vill you be? vid dese Gentlemen? Enter more Company. very good, vat vill you have?

2 Company.

Coffee, Coffee.

Mahoone.

Roga, mind your business; de Coffee, de boyne Coffee; de Coffee Cordial for dese Gentlemen. Mind a your business shack nape, me tell you dat. Begar, Gentlemen me tell you une ting, mine Coffee, be de Coffee of all de Varld, make a de man—ha, ha, ha—merry, may foy; it cure a de Ish in de Code, it make a de man stronge, very good stronge, dat be vorne a vay vid venery, and de droping a de shine in une two tree score years and no more begar, better den de devell Doctor, be sure of dat. Enter more Company. You be velcome, vat vill you ave?

3 Company.

Coffee, Coffee.

Mahoone.

Coffee! you be vise men begar; Coffee! de better drinc in de Varld; it make a de man stronge, very good stronge; me tell'd you dat before, to the second Company. It make a de Turk so stronge, dat une Turk kill une douzane'Cristians for a break-fast; dat make dem so mighty begar.

3 Company.

Thou'lt never leave thy braging, th'art a right French man.

Mahoone.

Begar me be no Frensh man, me no lie, me tell you de true—mind your business dere shack nape. You be velcome: vat vill you ave?

Enter more Company. 4 Company.

Chocolet.

Mahoone.

Chocolet! you be very vise men for dat; de better drinc in de Varld, it make a de man stronge, very good stronge, for de voman, une Turk get une douze de enfans e're matin begar, dat make dem so numerous—you damm shade mind a you business, and bring de Chocolet for dis Company—you damm shade, mind a me.

Maid.

Yes, sir.

Enter more Company. Mahoone.

So very good, mine Owse fill by and by; vat vill you ave?

5 Company.

Some Chocolet, and some Coffee.

Mahoone.

Four boue, may foy! de Chocolet and de Coffee make a de man live for ever! you shack dog, nape, mind a de Coffee, and you damm shade, hore, bish, mind de Chocolet—me till you une ting, vud de Anglish drinc no oder drinc den de Chocolet and de Coffee, dey vud kill all de Turks in Cristendom; and conquer all de Varld begar.

5. Company.

Thou art the lying'st fellow—

Mahoone.

Me tell de true, begar,—O so mush for dat—vill you sit a little farder, give room to Enter more Company. dese Gentlemen.

6. Company.

With your leave Gentlemen.

Mahoone.

Vat vill you ave?

6 Company.

Some Coffee, and some Chocolet.

Mahoone.

Very vell; begar you know de ting dat be good for de body, me knew dat before.

Ver be you damm shade, bring de Chocolet presant.

You shack dog, pack Rog, vat do you do? mind a your business, and be Ang'd.

The several Tables take notice of the Diurnals. first.

What speakes the Diurnal?

third.

It sayes the Turk will be here within this Moneth.

fourth.

We were told that a Moneth ago, and he's not come yet: but what other Newes d'ye hear.

fifth.

The Roguish Boyes at Westminster ('tis said) cry Doxyes twelve a penny.

Sixth.

They are cheaper then shotten Herrings then.

first.

Or Rotten Apples.

second.

Pox on't, few on 'em e're were sound at Core.

seventh.

What Tom, art thou there? hang me if I saw thee.

second.

Nor I thee, Harry how dost do?

seventh.

Much at one, how does Trading walk.

second.

Curssed lamely, she has the Gout in her great Toe.

third.

I' faith I think (Gentlemen) 'tis the running Gout that vexes her; and 'tis thought she will (if the disease continues) kick her heeles up.

seventh.

No great matter, Trade was alwayes a Strumpet fit for any man.

fourth.

But Lilly they say has put out a strange Prediction that Cucombers, Reddish and Lettice, shall be very plentifull this year.

fifth.

We shall have Sause then, get Meat where we can.

sixth.

You know the Proverb more Sause then Pig.

first.

Bring some more Coffee.

fourth.

And Chocolet.

Mahoone.

Me do your business presant.

Company at second Table. first.

Why Gentlemen, look you, the thing is this, if he come on that side, why then you know he comes not on the other side, but put case he should devide his Army and march both wayes, then you know who can keep him back.

second.

What does the fellow mean?

first.

I know what I know, and there's an end, if he Land at Dover once he'l be in England presently.

Company.

Ha, ha, ha.

first.

Why Gentlemen 'tis no laughing matter, I know what I know, few words are best; for certain the greatest part of his Army was seen on Calice Sands four Nights ago, though the Diurnal mention it not, yet it is as prodigious for ought you know as the late great Whale.

third.

Gentlemen, has any of you seen the Play of Harry the eight?

fourth.

Many years ago I did.

fifth.

And so did I.

third.

'Tis rarely set forth, they say.

first.

Gentlemen as I'm a Christian I ought to speak, I know and you cannot but all know, that if the Turk come into England once 'twill be the worse for the whole state of Christendom.

third.

Let him come, we have Iews enough to entertain him. Bur sir, they say 'tis done rarely well.

fourth.

I cannot believe it, 'tis impossible they should do any thing so well as I have seen things done.

fifth.

When Taylor Lowen, and Pollard were alive.

fourth.

Did you not know Benfield, and Swautted?

fifth.

Did I not know 'em? yes, and hum'd them off a hundred times.

fourth.

But did you know Mat Smith, Elis Worth, and Fowler at the Fortune?

fifth.

Yes, and I will tell you by a good token; Fowler you know was appointed for the Conquering parts, and it being given out he was to play the Part of a great Captain and mighty Warriour, drew much Company; the Play began, and ended with his Valour; but at the end of the Fourth Act he laid so heavily about him, that some Mutes who stood for Souldiers, fell down as they were dead e're he had toucht their trembling Targets; so he brandisht his Sword & made his Exit; ne're minding to bring off his dead men; which they perceiving, crauld into the Tyreing house, at which, Fowler grew angry, and told 'em, Dogs you should have laine there till you had been fetcht off; and so they crauld out again, which gave the People such an occasion of Laughter, they cry'd that again that again, that again.

fourth.

I but what d'ye call him was the man; he plaid the devil in Doctor Faustus, and a fellow in the Gallery throwing a Tobacco-Pipe at him; I hope to see thee (quoth He) e're long as bad as I am, what's that quoth the fellow? the Son of a Whore quoth He.

Omnes.

Ha, ha, ha.

first.

You talk of your Players, I am for the Fencers, there are none living now like old Bradshaw, old Batty, Chatterton, and Ned Gibs.

fifth.

I, and the Miller, I remember them too.

fourth.

What Swan the Wrestler? know him? I think I did.

first.

And so did I, then there was Will the Labourer and Will the Pewterer, that were hang'd—O they were nimble men.

fourth.

And Iack the Butcher, a stout Rogue, and the Gentleman Wrestler; they were brave men indeed, there's none left live like 'em. The sport that I have seen in Lincolnes-Inn-fields, and Moore-fields—did you not know little Dick that kept the Ring?

first.

What the old fellow? he and I has crackt many a Cup together; I was a Gamster too in those dayes, I lov'd to raise a Cudgell, and try a fall, as I did my Dinner.

fourth.

And so did I, I did so pay a Butcher at Bradshawes School once,—I came up to him thus—He rises, & extending his Arme hits the Person sets next him in the mouth

second.

What do you mean by this, sir?

fourth.

I was but shewing how I came on.

second.

I promise you wer't in another place you should not come off so, sir.

first.

He meant no harme, only to shew his skill.

second.

Let him do't some where else.

first.

The place is as free for us, as 'tis for you, sir, for our money.

fourth.

Nay if the Gentleman be angry, let him turn the Buckles of his Girdle behind him.

third.

Come, you do not well, first to give an Offence, and then to justifie your self in't!

Mahoone.

Vat be dat? vat be dere? hoe make a de noyse, make a de devell, no stay in my Owse begar, take you de varning a dat.

fourth.

Well, well, we have done. Bring us some more Coffee.

first.

And Chocolet.

Mahoone.

Vid all mine art, four bone.

2. and 3d.

Sit you merry—take money here.

Enter Hunt-Cliffe. Hunt-Cliffe.

My dearest Rampant how dost?

Wife.

Prithee love get thee into the next Room, I'le come to thee presently.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Do not stay.

Exit. Hunt-Cliffe.
Wife.

I cannot from thee my dearest.

second.

Who takes money?

third.

They mind it not, let's begone.

Mahoone.

Vere be you dere? you damm shade at de Barr, you hore my Wife, take a de Reconing you hore.

Wife.

Have I been gone so long with a Pox to you?

first.

Nay Gentlemen we are going too.

Man servant.

There is a China Cup broke, and to pay for.

fourth.

Very right, what's the price?

Man servant.

Eighteen pence.

fifth.

How? fie upon't.

Mahoone.

No less begar, den vne silling and vne six pence.

fourth.

'Tis unreasonable, but how ere we'l pay't.

first.

This comes of fooling.

Exeunt. Mahoone.

You be de velcome Gentilemen.

Wife.

Would they were all gone, I sit on Thornes till I am with my Hunt-Cliffe.

Company at the Third Table. first.

'Tis talkt there has been a great Overthrow given lately to the Turk, 3000 Slain, besides the Prisoners ta'ne, which doubtless must come neer that number, and most wealthy Prizes.

second.

I'm glad on't, but alas, sir, 'tis to them. but a meer Flea bite in comparison, to such a loss on our side; they can spare thirty or forty Thousand and ne're shrink for't.

third.

With favour, I should think it were good Policy, and I presume much Honour to our Nation, if twenty Thousand men well Disciplin'd, were sent to his Dominions and there plagu'd him, 'twould gore him to the Guts, and make him draw his Army homewards with a pouring vengeance.

second.

O sir, 'twould cost a world of Money, that, and we are poor; I must confess 'twould be a brave exploit, and fill the mouth of Fame. But it cannot be.

first.

Pray why, sir?

second.

Why for many Reasons Sir, as the case stands now we have a Gang of Fellowes would change Sides with them, and among friends we should generally make better Turkes then Christians.

third.

He cannot be a perfect English man, that to promote his Countryes Honour would not sell halfe his Patrimony.

first.

It were a shame the Frenchmen should take such an Honour from Us.

second.

For my part (Gentlemen) I do protest I would contribute willingly my part to further the Designe; would it were Working.

third.

You speak nobly.

fourth.

What do you hear of Ludlow?

third.

Nothing but mum.

second.

Here's none but friends, good sir what is't?

third.

He is turn'd Turk—pray pardon me,

I speak but as I've heard.

fourth.

Why is that such a crime? but without fooling, is he chang'd?

third. I wish he were if he be not. Why dost not thou think he were chang'd for the better; Come you know the Old Saying,

A bad God makes a good Devil; and that sort of Christian makes an excellent Turk.

fifth.

Sir, as to your business fear it not.

sixth.

I hope so, sir.

fifth.

We have 'em upon the hip, fear it not man, I'le warrant thee.

sixth.

The Suit has cost me a deal of Money.

fifth.

And more 'twill cost thee, but they shall pay all at last with a Circumferentibus.

sixth.

Nay then I care not, though I sell two of my Oxen more.

Company at the first Table call to pay. Mahoone.

Vere be de damm shade, de hore my Vise? begar she be gon agen—hore, hore, vere be you hore.

Wife.

My head does so ake Sweet-heart.

Mahoone.

Begar my head ash, you lie—look Hunt-Cliffe. steales out. out a, look out a, a gran pock take you pour moy.

1. Company.

Here take your money.

3. Company.

And ours too.

Wife.

What have you had Gentlemen—Oh I cry you mercy you are welcome Gentlemen. Exeunt Companyes. Lord how glad am I the heat of this business is over.

M hoone.

Vat vas dat shack Rog dog vas vid you hore, in de room?

Wife.

A Cousen of mine you never saw before.

Mahoone.

Your Cosen! all de devells in hell be your Cosen me tink. Give me a de money.

Wife.

Take it, and be choakt with it.

Mahoone.

Very good Vife, very good Vife.

The Scene is drawn
ACT the Fourth. Enter Froth, Sm ak, Rasey, and Samphire. SMoak.

Look you, look Rogues, but my dear Brothers, I have brought my friend Samphire according to promise.

Froth.

He's welcome, get you into that Room, I'le shut the door upon you, be not seen, I'le provide for you.

Exit.
Rasey.

Make hast, I shall be mist at home.

Samphire.

I am very glad of your Acquaintance.

Rasey.

I am the like of yours.

Smoak.

When comes the things you wot on?

Samphire.

To night without fail, when my Master and Mistress are a Bed.

Enter Froth with a huge Flaggon of Ale. Froth.

Here's that holds at least three Quarts; when this is out it shall be fill'd agen, and there's a Jack to drink out of.

Rasey.

A good Rogue.

Froth.

Hear me, have an eye to the Door, if any offer to turn the Latch, clap your Flaggon under the Table an call manfully for three Jacks of Ale, I'le pay't.

I come, I come, I come.

Call within Froth, Froth. Smoak.

Oh brave Rogue—remember Rogue a Morsell?

Froth.

Well, I'le do what I can. I come, I come,

Exit. Call agen. Samphire.

He seems to be as true a Trout as e're struck water.

Rasey.

A real Rogue.

Enter Froth. call within. Froth.

I come, I come, I come: here Rogues fall to, I have nib'd a cold Chicken, and halfe a Breast of Mutton for you, and here's a slice or two of Houshold Bread, good Provinder you Raskalls, I come, I come.

call agen.

Is your Flaggon empty?

Smoak.

We have dreyn'd him.

Froth.

Give't me, I'le fill't agen, and then happy man be his dole—I come, I come,.

Exit Froth.
Smoak.

Now Rogue, you see what Company I keep.

Samphire.

I am proud of 'em, and will not die in their Debts.

Rasey.

I dare not stay, I'le only take a snap, and so be gone.

Samphire.

And so must I.

Enter Froth with more Ale. Froth.

I come, I come, I come—Has any been with you yet?

Omnes.

No, not any.

Froth.

The better; come, two Jacks a piece will send it packing.

Smoak.

Have at thee Boy.

Froth.

So; now get you about your businesses, he thrusts them out. the house begins to fill, get you that way.

Exeunt. Enter Subtle and his Wife, and some Gentlemen. Subtle.

Why Froth, why Froth—please you to walk in.

Froth.

I come, I come, y'are welcome Gentlemen.

Wife.

What will you please to have; a couple of cold Chickens, or halfe a Breast of Mutton?

1. Gent.

The half Breast of Mutton, what say you?

2. Gent.

I, 'twill do very well.

Wife.

You shall have it presently.

Subtler.

Froth, shew 'em a Room.

Froth.

Will you please to walk in, Gentlemen.

Exeunt. Wife.

Where are you there, my folkes are mad sure; prithee Sweet-heart reach me the half Breast of Mutton hither.

Subtle.

Here's no such thing, unless you will divide a Breast in two.

Wife.

Lord, how thou talk'st! there's half a Breast ready cut.

Subtle.

My eyes are my own sure.

Wife.

Prithee let me see, I should have eyes too—odds so there's a Chicken gone too; we are like to thrive at this rate! four and six-pence in a morning!

Subtle.

But then consider—

Enter Froth. Froth.

Mistress, Mistress, the half Breast of Mutton, Mistress the Gentlemen are in hast.

Subtle.

Here has been more hast then go d speed it seemes.

Wife.

What is become of the Mutton, and one of the Chickens?

Froth.

What Mutton forsooth?

Wife.

The half Breast, and the fellow to this Chicken.

Froth.

Alas how should I know forsooth, I have not eyes here, and in the Cellar too; the Bell-man's Dog was here but even now, a shirking Cur, and yet I cannot say he had it.

Subtle.

Who ever had, the Devil choak him with't.

Froth.

I sir, but 'tis past that by this time.

Exeunt Enter Mr. Pepper and his Wife. Pepper.

And so, my Lady.

Wife.

It is even so my Lord; and what think you on't?

Pepper.

Why scurvily! and very scurvily! But tell me, Fraile, (let thy Soul dictate to thee) do I deserve this scorn, these slights, these base untoward Answers! have I not been a Husband— indeed too, too, too Kind—

Wife.

Too much of one thing is good for nothing, you know't, it has been your own Doctrine.

Pepper.

I, but my dear Fraile I now am sincking.

Wife.

What remedy, would you have me sinck with you sir?

Pepper.

No my Dear; give me but an accompt of some goods that I miss, they'l be a help to us in our necessity.

Wife.

I'faith sir no, what goods I have I'le keep; and they'l keep me, if not something else will.

Pepper.

This is audatiousness beyond example; the common Brothels would not entertain a Wife so hideous, so monstrous evil; Ingratitude is worse then Whordom, Fraile, consider that & weep.

Wife.

Ha, ha, ha, weep, for what? for seeking to preserve my self against the storm is coming? let Ludgate be thy Grave and perish there, I'le be Fraile still, and take my pleasure.

Pepper.

Woman provoke me not—tell me where my Goods are?

Wife.

Thrown into the Thames.

Pepper.

Vile woman, would I could throw thee after 'em.

Smoak.

Oh master, master, there are two of Enter Smoak. in hast. your Creditors without, are very earnest to speak with you, but I told 'em you were not within; and there stands behind 'em an ill look'd Rogue a Serjeant on my conscience.

Pepper.

Prithee Wife go to 'em.

Wife.

I go to 'em! what to do?

Pepper.

See who they are, give 'em good words, and tell 'em I will be with 'em suddenly.

Wife.

To much purpose indeed.

Exit Fraile. Pepper.

In the mean time, besure you do convey the choicest of my Goods are now remaining, with my Debt Books, and all my Box of writings to my friends house, where I intend to be for some time 'till I can Compound my Debts.

Enter Fraile. Fraile.

They are gone; you may take your walk when you please sir.

Pepper.

Come, I hope thou'lt be in a better humour er't be long.

Fraile.

I'm not of your opinion in good truth sir.

Exeunt. Enter Hunt-Cliffe, and Sweet-Lips. Hunt-Cliffe.

What does thy Husband think I can Coyne money? wer't not for thy sake he should lick his spiggot and knaw his Nailes for want of Company, e're I would cross his Threshold.

Sweet-Lips.

O but dear Hunt-Cliffe for my sake.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Death! what would'st have me do? I have it not, thus to be vext for paltry thirty pound! I'le be a stranger here, or never let me—

Sweet-Lips.

Oh not so my dear; thou'lt break my heart then, I prithee hear me.

Hunt-Cliffe.

What would'st thou say?

Sweet-Lips.

My Husband is a very loving Husband.

Hunt-Cliffe.

What's that to me.

Sweet-Lips.

And now and then when he does get old Gold, he gives it me to hoord; that at this time I praise my Starrs I have I think far more then will discharge your Debt.

Hunt-Cliffe.

What of all this?

Sweet-Lips.

And here they are, which I (to save your Credit) have rob'd my Cabinet of; not thinking any thing too dear for thee, with whom I have entrusted my very self.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Well, what then?

Sweet-Lips.

If you will take the care to Pawne 'em Hunt-Cliffe, but not to loose 'em, for they are as pretious as is my Husbands love, and my well being; and how neer that is guess your self.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Oh my poor Rogue.

Sweet-Lips.

None will deny thee Silver on 'em, but be sure they be laid safe, or I'm undone for ever.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Dost thou fear me? have I a Soul?

Sweet-L.

Then take 'em as the pledges of my love, but so as they may be return'd again, I trust thee with my life in parting with 'em.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Pox on the dirt, I prize thy sweet conditions beyond a world of such like trash as this.

Sweet-Lips.

Dear Hunt-Cliffe if thou dost regard my quiet, be carefull to redeem them in some time, and I'le contribute towards it what I can.

Exeunt. Hunt-Cliffe.

My dear thy Obligations are Charmes to me.

Enter Pickle, Olive, and Samphire. Pickle.

Samphire about your business, let my Writing and Debt Bookes—Lord I am o're come with passion.

Olive.

I prithee be not so, I'le run a share with thee in all thy sufferings.

Pickle.

That's my torture; Oh must thy goodness, thy indulgence meet the cruelty that does pursue my vanity, my profuse living, my extravagancies, my Creditors wound me not halfe so much as the sharp thoughts of thee.

Olive.

Yet hear me dearest, do not dispaire nor throw a mercy from thee, I doubt not but my care has so provided, thou may'st be able to appease thy Creditors, and stop their violence.

Pickle.

Alas poor thing what canst thou do?

Olive.

Why you shall see provided, my dear Husband: (and yet I must beg pardon for that Covenant, it being too peremptory for me to proffer—)

Weepes. Pickle.

Prithee my Dearest.

Olive.

I say if you'l please to look about you for the future, I dare warrant your Recovery, then ne're flinch for't.

Pickle.

Say'st thou so my better Genius. Samphire stirr nothing till my wife & I do consult further.

Exeunt. Samphire.

Now my hopes are spoild, no matter; I shall become the honester, farewell Smoak, thou art but a vapour, and Froth, thou art but wind, & for Rasey, he is too dear a Companion.

Exit.
ACT the Fifth. Enter Compound and Sweet-Lips. COmpound.

Was ever man stockt with such impudence, he sends with that authority to provide a Supper, and of no small consequence; as though he ow'd me nothing, or I bound to feed his Ryot for a coppy of his ugly Countenance.

Sweet-Lips.

Why truly Husband, and speak but the bare truth, the man is handsome, handsome enough indeed la.

Compound.

I have seen (for all your wise opinion) a far handsomer forsake the world at Tyburn.

Sweet-Lips.

Oh this money.

Compound.

Wer't not to bring a scandal on my house, he should not have digested scarce his Supper, e're I had Serjeants to salute his person; and yet, for ought I know it shall be done.

Sweet-Lips.

Oh good, my heart, how do you know but he has brought you money; disgrace him not before his friends, he is a Gentleman, think on that; I am perswaded he would ne're have ventur'd (being well acquainted with your frequent Threats) to invite his friends but on a handsome score: take my word for this night, and in the morning do what you please.

Compound.

By this hand I will.

Exeunt. Enter Mahoone in his Shirt. Mahoone.

Nebor, mine good Nebor vere be you dere? vere been mine Vife, begar she be de hore o de Varld, she robe a me o all mine money my l'argent begar, for de foke, vy Nebor, vere be mine Vife? me break house to day, me be undone, de grand pock take you all, vere be de hore de dam bish hore mine Vife? me be mad as de dog, bish, all mine money begone; me be mad begar.

Enter his Wife. Wife.

Did ever man make such a monster of himself! why don't you come to bed?

Mahoone.

Oh shade! vere have you been! foke, foke, foke, a pock take you for me. Vere be mine money you hore shade? vere be de money you took to day, shade?

Wife. Are you not asham'd to disturb your Neighbours? Come to bed, and you shall know all. Mahoone.

Know all! vat be dat? me come to bed! very good, de devel come to bed, me no come to your dog-bish hole you shade.

Wife.

Why then go hang your self.

Exit.
Mahoone.

Out a hore shade vere be mine money you damm shade vere be mine money? me murder you, and send your Sole to de devell begar: mine money, mine money, mine money.

Exit running. Enter Hunt-Cliffe, and two or three Gentlemen. Hunt-Cliffe.

More Wine, who waites there? why Rasey you Ra kall more Wine.

Rasey.

I have it here Sir.

Enter Rasey. Hunt-Cliffe.

Bid your Master come to me.

Rasey.

My Mistress Sir!

Hunt-Cliffe.

No, your Master, sirrah.

Rasey.

I unde stand you Sir, but I believe y'ave ridden him so much he'l not endure the Bit.

Aside. Hunt-Cliffe.

Why dost not stirr?

Rasey.

I'm gone Sir.

Exit.
1 Gent.

Hunt-Cliffe, thou art a Prince.

2 Gent.

Disgu s'd or neer upon't.

Hunt-Cliffe

Wh le these Spanckers last, Boyes—

1 Gent.

Where lives thy Mammon, thy kind hearted devil?

Hunt-Cliffe.

I have a legend, pretty smooth fac'd devils, such as would draw you from your prayers, to sin; fine soaking dev ls.

Oh Sir, are you come?
Enter Compound. Compound.

I suppose you sent for me.

Hunt-Cliffe.

In very good time Sir; how stands Accompts between us?

Compound.

What mean you Sir?

Hunt-Cliffe.

I pray let's know it Sir, even from the beginning of the world unto this present t me Sir: I abhor a Serjeant, and your poor stratagems; what do I owe you Sir? I've money for you, I hope you'l not refuse it.

Comp.

Forbid I should; Sir I' e fetch you up a Bill.

Shakes his Pockets. Hunt-Cliffe.

Pray do S r, and put our Reckoning into't.

Gentlemen.

By no meanes, we'l pay our shares.

Compound.

As you please for that Gentlemen.

Hunt-cliffe.

Do as I bad you Sir.

Compound.

It shall be done Sir.

Exit.
Hunt-cliffe.

I hate to have such d rty fellowes think I am beholding to 'em, my soul's above it; men that have narrow though s crouch to such wretches, but mine are boundl ss—

Enter Compound. Compound.

Here it is Sir, and the precise day set down for every Reckoning, I sco n to wrong you Sir.

Hunt-cliffe.

A righteous Stewa d—so—right—well—very well—just— 'tis granted; and know I scorn to wrong you punctual Compound, the Total is 20. Pound, make your Acqu tance, & that a general one, & your money's eady.

Compound.

I sir, that's soon done, my Wife's a W tch sure,

Aside.

She told me she bel ev'd this night he'd pay me, the Acquitance Sir is ready.

Writes. Hunt-Cliffe.

Let me see't—from the beginning—very well—now Gentlemen I hope you w ll subscribe as Witnesses?

Gentlemen.

I, I.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Now tell your money, sir, Nineteen old Pieces, with their Allowance, friend may pass for twenty pound, your Debt.

Throwes him. the Gold. Compound.

Bless my eye sight, my own Gold upon my life, the Gold I gave my Wife in keeping—Oh vile Woman, Oh wretched man—give me back my Acquittance, the Golds not right, 'tis base Counterfeit Gold, Oh my vexation!

1 Gent.

Art mad, the Gold's good Gold.

2 Gent.

Currant I warrant thee.

Compound.

If it be, he came not lawfully by't, 'tis not well gotten, and I shall never thrive with it.

3 Gent.

Have a care what you say, friend.

Hunt-Cliffe.

What does the fellow murter?

Compound.

None of your f llow yet Sir, I am no Cheat, give me my Acquittance, t ke your ill got Goods, and I'le take my course for my Debt— what paid with a Pig from my own Sow!—Rasey bid your Mistress come hither presently—I shall run mad indeed.

Exit.
Hunt-Cliffe.

I know where his Shoo wrings him; his Wife gave me this Gold to p wn for Silver—pox on the oversight, I shall loose her love for ever.

1 Gent.

Oh 'twas a gross mistake.

2 Gent.

Not like a Gentleman.

3 Gent.

Pay him in his own Coyne?

Enter Compound & his wife. Compound.

Come, come, the Key of your Cabinet?

Wife.

Lord, why thus hasty Husband; I cannot find it presently.

Compound.

How crept these things into that Gentleman's, that worthless Gentleman's Pocket? you know 'em d'ye not?

Wife.

Oh my misery—a Gentleman! a Villain, a perjur'd Villain—

aside. Compound.

Answer me to my question?

She Weepes. 1 Gent.

Poor Creature he has struck her dumb—fie Hunt-Cl ffe, fie.

2 Gent

Pox o' this business, 'tis a nasty business.

Hunt-Cliffe.

Come, let's leave him freting in his own grease, l'le not endure the storme.

Exeunt Hunt-Cliffe and Gentlemen. Compound.

Charge a Constable with the Rogue, he has rob'd me—oh Woman what hast thou done? what hast thou made me do? open thy shame, and mine to all the world, I shall not stir forth of my doors, but be pointed at by each Prentice boy, become the talk a every Coffee-House.

Wife.

Dear Husband upon my Knees I beg your Pardon never will I commit an error like Knecls. to this.

Compound.

It was thy Iust mov'd thee to do it now, and that is such a Cankar it will eat w ole Families up.

Wife.

He never did attempt (if you'l believe me Husband) any uncivil Act towards me since first he came to th' House, I lookt upon him for a Gentleman; and knew you would arrest him, (you had sworn it) if that he paid you not this night.

Compound.

What then? must you rob me therefore to pleasure him?

Wife.

I lent 'em him to pawn for S lver, on condition he'd redeem 'em in a moneth, to which he swore most vehemently.

Compound.

Rise, I forg ve thee, be wiser Wench, hereafter, and tho gh he thinks he does securely swim, if there be Law in the Land I'le hamper him.

Exeunt. FINIS.