THE Wild-Goose Chase; A COMEDY.

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Francis Beaumont
Persons Represented in the Play.
De-Gard, A Noble stay'd' Gentleman that being newly lighted from his Travels, assists his Sister Oriana in her chase of Mirabel the Wild-Goose.
La-Castre, the Indulgent Father to Mirabell.
Mirabell, the Wild-Goose, a Travell'd Monsieur, and great defyer of all Ladies in the way of Marriage, otherwise their much loose servant, at last caught by the despis'd Oriana.
Pinac, his fellow Traveller, of a lively spirit, and Servant to the no less sprightly Lillia-Bianca.
Belleur, Companion to both, of a stout blunt humour, in love with Rosalura.
Nantolet, Father to Rosalura and Lillia-Bianca.
Lugier, the rough and confident Tutor to the Ladies, and chief Engine to entrap the Wild-Goose.
Oriana, the fair betroth'd of Mirabell, and witty follower of the Chase.
Rosalura, the Airie Daughters of Nantolet.
Lillia-Bianca,
Petella, their Waiting-woman.
Mariana, an English Courtezan.
A young Factor.
Page.
Servants.
Singing-Boy.
Two Merchants.
Priest.
Four Women.

The Scene Paris.

The Actors were,

  • Robert Benfield.
  • John Lowin.
  • William Trigg.
  • Richard Robinson.
  • William Penn.
  • Sander Gough.
  • Joseph Taylor.
  • Hilliard Swanston.
  • Mr. Shank.
  • Thomas Pollard.
  • Stephen Hammerton.
  • John Hony-man.

Enter Monsieur De Gard, and a Foot-Boy.

[De Ga.] Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my Horse well
 And let him want no Litter.
Boy. I am sure I have run hard,
 Would some body would walk me, & see me Litter'd;
 For I think my fellow-horse, cannot in reason
 Desire more rest, nor take up his Chamber before me,
 But we are the Beasts now, and the Beasts are our Masters.
De Ga. When you have done, step to the Ten-Crown Ordinary.
Boy. With all my heart, Sir,
 For I have a Twenty Crown stomach.
De Ga. And there bespeak a dinner.
Boy. Yes Sir, presently.
De Ga. For whom, I beseech you, Sir?
Boy. For my self, I take it, Sir.
De Ga. In truth ye shall not take it, 'tis not meant for you,
 There's for your Provender: Bespeak a Dinner
 For Monsieur Mirabell, and his Companions,
 They'll be in Town within this hour.
 When you have done, Sirrah,
 Make ready all things at my Lodging, for me,
 And wait me there.
Boy. The Ten Crown Ordinary?
De Ga. Yes Sir, if you have not forgot it.
Boy. I'le forget my feet first;
 'Tis the best part of a Foot-mans faith. [Exit Boy.
De Ga. These youths
 For all they have been in Italy, to learn thrift,
 And seem to wonder at mens lavish waies,
 Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
 They must meet sometimes to disport their Bodies
 With good Wine, and good Women; and good store too.
 Let 'em be what they will, they are Arm'd at all points,
 And then hang saving. Let the Sea grow high,
 This Ordinary can fit 'em of all sizes,

Enter La-Castre and Oriana.

They must salute their Country with old customes.
Ori. Brother.
De Ga. My dearest Sister.
Ori. Welcome, welcome:
 Indeed ye are welcome home, most welcome.
De Ga. Thank ye,
 You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana,
 (Blush at your faults) I am wondrous glad to see ye.
 Monsieur La-Castre: Let not my Affection
 To my fair Sister, make me be held unmannerly:
 I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty,
 Good health about ye, and in fair company,
 Believe me, I am proud—
La-Cast. Fair Sir, I thank ye:
 Monsieur de Gard, you are welcome from your journey,
 Good men, have still good welcome: give me your hand, Sir.
 Once more, you are welcome home: you look still younger.
De Ga. Time has no leasure to look after us.
 We wander every where: Age cannot find us.
La-Cast. And how does all?
De Ga. All well, Sir; and all lusty.
La-Cast. I hope my Son be so, I doubt not, Sir,
 But you have often seen him in your journeys,
 And bring me some fair News.
De Ga. Your Son is well, Sir,
 And grown a proper Gentleman: he is well, and lusty,
 Within this eight hours, I took leave of him,
 And over-ey'd him, having some slight business
 That forc'd me out o'th' way: I can assure you
 He will be here to night.
La-Cast. Ye make me glad, Sir,
 For o' my faith, I almost long to see him,
 Me thinks he has been away—
De Ga. 'Tis but your tenderness;
 What are three years? a love-sick wench will allow it:
 His friends that went out with him are come back too;
 Belleur, and young Pinac: he bid me say little,
 Because he means to be his own glad Messenger.
La-Ca. I thank ye for this news, Sir, he shall be welcome,
 And his friends too: indeed I thank you heartily:
 And how (for I dare say, you will not flatter him)
 Has Italy wrought on him? has he mew'd yet
 His wild fantastick Toyes? they say that Climate
 Is a great purger of those humorous Fluxes.
 How is he improved, I pray ye?
De Ga. No doubt, Sir, well.
 H'as born himself a full, and noble Gentleman,
 To speak him farther is beyond my Charter.
La-Cast. I am glad to hear so much good; Come, I see
 You long to enjoy your Sister: yet I must intreat ye
 Before I go, to sup with me to night
 And must not be deni'd.
De Ga. I am your servant.
La-C. Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble Company.
 My neighbour Natolet, and his two fair Daughters.
De G. Your supper's season'd well, Sir. I shall wait upon ye.
La-C. Till then I'le leave ye: and y'are once more welcome.
De G. I thank ye, noble Sir. Now, Oriana, [Exit.
 How have ye done since I went? have ye had your health well?
 And your mind free?
Oria. You see I am not bated;
 Merry, and eat my meat.
De G. A good preservative.
 And how have you been us'd? You know, Oriana,
 Upon my going out, at your request,
 I left your Portion in La-Castre's hands,
 (The main Means you must stick to) for that reason
 (And 'tis no little one) I ask ye, Sister,
 With what humanity he entertains ye,
 And how ye find his courtesie?
Oria. Most ready.
 I can assure you, Sir, I am us'd most nobly.
De G. I am glad to hear it: But I prethee tell me,
 (And tell me true) what end had you, Oriana,
 In trusting your mony here? He is no Kinsman,
 Nor any tie upon him of a Guardian;
 Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality.
Or. No, certain, Sir, none of all this provoked me;
 Another private reason.
De G. 'Tis not private,
 Nor carryed so: 'tis common (my fair Sister)
 Your love to Mirabel; your blushes tell it:
 'Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;
 And with no little shame I wonder at it.
Oria. Is it a shame to love?
De G. To love undiscreetly:
 A Virgin should be tender of her honour,
 Close, and secure.
Oria. I am as close as can be,
 And stand upon as strong and honest guards too;
 Unless this Warlike Age need a Port-cullis:
 Yet I confess, I love him.
De G. Hear the people.
Oria. Now I say hang the people: He that dares
 Believe what they say, dares be mad, and give
 His Mother, nay his own Wife up to Rumor;
 All grounds of truth they build on, is a Tavern,
 And their best censure's Sack, Sack in abundance:
 For as they drink, they think: they ne're speak modestly
 Unless the wine be poor, or they want mony.
 Believe them? believe Amadis de Gaul,
 The Knight o'th' Sun, or Palmerin of England;
 For these, to them, are modest, and true stories.
 Pray understand me; if their tongues be truth,
 And if in Vino veritas be an Oracle,
 What Woman is, or has been ever honest?
 Give 'em but ten round cups, they'll swear Lucretia
 Dy'd not for want of power to resist Tarquin,
 But want of Pleasure, that he stay'd no longer:
 And Portia, that was famous for her Piety
 To her lov'd Lord, they'll face ye out, dy'd o'th' Pox.
De G. Well, there is something, Sister.
Oria. If there be, Brother,
 'Tis none of their things, 'tis not yet so monstrous;
 My thing is Marriage: And at his return
 I hope to put their squint-eyes right again.
De G. Marriage? 'tis true; his Father is a rich man;
 Rich both in land and money: he his heir,
 A young and handsome man, I must confess too;
 But of such qualities, and such wild flings,
 Such admirable imperfections, Sister,
 (For all his Travel, and bought experience)
 I should be loth to own him for my Brother:
 Methinks a rich mind in a state indifferent
 Would prove the better fortune.
Oria. If he be wild,
 The reclaiming him to good, and honest, (Brother)
 Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,
 Shall be the study of my love, and life too.
De G. Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too.
 He Marry? he'll be hanged first: he knows no more
 What the conditions and the ties of Love are,
 The honest purposes and grounds of Marriage,
 Nor will know, nor be ever brought t' endeavour,
 Than I do how to build a Church; he was ever
 A loose and strong defier of all order,
 His Loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,
 And taste each dish, but are no residents:
 Or say he may be brought to think of Marriage,
 (As 'twill be no small labour) thy hopes are strangers.
 I know there is a labour'd match, now follow'd,
 (Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too)
 Be not abus'd, Natolet has two fair Daughters,
 And he must take his choice.
Or. Let him take freely;
 For all this I despair not; my mind tells me
 That I, and only I, must make him perfect;
 And in that hope I rest.
De-Gar. Since y'are so confident,
 Prosper your hope; I'll be no adversary;
 Keep your self fair and right, he shall not wrong ye.
Or. When I forget my vertue, no man know me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Bellure, and Servants.

Mir. Welcome to Paris once more, Gentlemen;
 We have had a merry and a lusty Ordinary,
 And Wine, and good meat, and a bounsing Reckoning;
 And let it go for once; 'Tis a good Physick,
 Only the Wenches are not for my diet,
 They are too lean and thin; their embraces brawn-faln.
 Give me the plump Venetian, fat, and lusty,
 That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,
 As if a Cup of full Wine leapt to kiss me;
 These slight things I affect not.
Pin. They are ill built;
 Pin-buttockt, like your dainty Barbaries,
 And weak i'th' pasterns; they'll endure no hardness.
Mir. There's nothing good, or handsom bred amongst us:
 Till we are travel'd, and live abroad, we are Coxcombs:
 Ye talk of France, a slight unseason'd Country,
 Abundance of gross food, which makes us Block-heads:
 We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses:
 Men say we are great Courtiers, men abuse us:
 We are wise, and valiant too, non credo, Seignior:
 Our Women the best Linguists, they are Parrats;
 O' this side the Alpes they are nothing but meer Drolleries:
 Ha, Roma la Santa, Italy for my money,
 Their policies, their customs, their frugalities,
 Their courtesies so open, yet so reserved too,
 As when ye think y'are known best, ye are a stranger;
 The very pick-teeth speak more man than we do,
 And season of more salt.
Pin. 'Tis a brave Country:
 Not pester'd with your stubborn precise Puppies,
 That turn all useful and allow'd contentments
 To scabs and scruples; hang 'em Capon-worshippers.
Bel. I like that freedom well, and like their Women too,
 And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,
 So naturally an Ass: Look ye, I can look upon 'em,
 And very willingly I go to see 'em,
 (There's no man willinger) and I can kiss 'em,
 And make a shift—
Mir. But if they chance to flout ye,
 Or say ye are too bold; fie, Sir, remember;
 I pray sit farther off;—
Bel. 'Tis true, I am humbled,
 I am gone, I confess ingenuously I am silenced,
 The spirit of Amber cannot force me answer.
Pin. Then would I sing and dance.
Bel. You have wherewithal, Sir.
Pin. And charge her up again.
Bel. I can be hang'd first;
 Yet where I fasten well I am a tyrant.
Mir. Why, thou darst fight?
Bel. Yes, certainly, I dare fight;
 And fight with any man at any weapon,
 Would the other were no more; but a pox on't,
 When I was sometimes in my height of hope,
 And reasonable valiant that way, my heart harden'd,
 Some scornful jest or other chops between me
 And my desire: what would ye have me to do then, Gentlemen?
Mir. Belvere, you must be bolder: Travel three years,
 And bring home such a Baby to betray ye
 As bashfulness? a great fellow, and a Souldier?
Bel. You have the gift of impudence, be thankful;
 Every man has not the like talent: I will study
 And if it may be reveal'd to me.
Mir. Learn of me,
 And of Pinac: no doubt you'll find employment;
 Ladies will look for Courtship.
Pic. 'Tis but fleshing,
 But standing one good brunt or two: hast thou any mind to marriage?
 We'l provide thee some soft-natur'd wench, that's dumb too.
Mir. Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.
Bel. A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager
 And car'd not for Discourse, I were excellent at.
Mi. You must now put on boldness, there's no avoiding it;
 And stand all hazards; flye at all games bravely;
 They'll say you went out like an Oxe, and return'd like an Ass else.
Bel. I shall make danger sure.
Mir. I am sent for home now,
 I know it is to marry, but my Father shall pardon me,
 Although it be a witty Ceremony,
 And may concern me hereafter in my Gravity;
 I will not lose the freedom of a Traveller;
 A new strong lusty Bark cannot ride at one Anchor;
 Shall I make divers suits to shew to the same eyes?
 'Tis dull and home-spun; Study several pleasures,
 And want employments for 'em? I'll be hang'd first;
 Tye me to one smock? make my travels fruitless?
 I'll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
 By your leave, Father, I must have a fresh Mistriss,
 And a fresh favour too.
Bel. I like that passingly;
 As many as you will, so they be willing,
 Willing, and gentle, gentle.
Pin. There's no reason
 A Gentleman, and a Traveller should be clapt up,
 For 'tis a kind of BÆboes to be married
 Before he manifest to the World his good parts:
 Tug ever like a Rascal at one Oar?
 Give me the Italian liberty.
Mir. That I study;
 And that I will enjoy; Come, go in Gentlemen,
 There mark how I behave my self, and follow. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter La-Castre, Natolet, Lugie[r], Rosa Lieura, Lylia-Biancha.

La-Cas. You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome,
 Beshrew my blood they are fair ones; welcom Beauties,
 Welcome, sweet Birds.
Nat. They are bound much to your courtesies.
La-Cas. I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.
Nat. That's my hope too.
 For certain, Sir, I much desire your Alliance:
 You see 'em, they are no Gypsies, for their breeding,
 It has not been so coarse, but they are able
 To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;
 Indeed they have been trained well.
Lug. Thank me.
Nat. Fit for the Heirs of that State I shall leave 'em;
 To say more, is to sell 'em. They say your Son
 Now he has travell'd must be wondrous curious,
 And choice in what he takes: these are no coarse ones;
 Sir, here's a merry wench, let him look to himself,
 (All heart, i'faith) may chance to startle him;
 For all his care, and travell'd caution,
 May creep into his Eye; if he love Gravity,
 Affect a solemn face, there's one will fit him.
La-C. So young, and so demure?
Nat. She is my Daughter,
 Else I would tell you, Sir, she is a Mistriss
 Both of those manners and that modesty
 You would wonder at: She is no often Speaker,
 But when she does, she speaks well; Nor no Reveller,
 Yet she can dance, and has studied the Court Elements,
 And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
 With the decency of her Sex, may be a Scholar,
 I can assure ye, Sir, she understands too.
La-C. These are fit Garments, Sir.
Lug. Thank them that cut 'em;
 Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too;
 Pretty becoming parts.
La-C. 'Tis like they have, Sir.
Lug. Yes, yes, and handsome Education they have had too,
 Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it;
 I taught it, I'll avouch it.
La-C. You say well, Sir.
Lug. I know what I say, Sir, and I say but right, Sir;
 I am no Trumpet of their Commendations
 Before their Father; else I should say farther.
La-C. 'Pray ye, what's this Gentleman?
Nat. One that lives with me, Sir;
 A man well bred and learn'd, but blunt and bitter,
 Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in't:
 Many fair gifts he has, in some of which
 That lye most easie to their understandings,
 H'as handsomely bred up my Girls, I thank him.
 I have put it to 'em, that's my part, I have urg'd it,
 It seems they are of years now to take hold on't.
 He's wondrous blunt.
La-C. By my faith I was afraid of him:
 Does he not fall out with the Gentlewomen sometimes?
Nat. No, no, he's that way moderate, and discreet, Sir.
Ros. If he did, we should be too hard for him.
Lug. Well said Sulphur:
 Too hard for thy Husbands head if he wear not armour.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, De-Gard, [Belleur,] and Oriana.

Nat. Many of these bickrings, Sir.
La-C. I am glad they are no Oracles;
 Sure, as I live, he beats them, he's so puisant.
Or. Well, if ye do forget—
Mir. Prithee hold thy peace;
 I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov'st me,
 Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on't,
 And a fit place: I'll ease thy heart I warrant thee:
 Thou seest I have much to do now.
Or. I am answer'd, Sir:
 With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions.
De-Gard. Your Father and your friends.
La-C. You are welcome home, Sir;
 'Bless ye, ye are very welcome:
 'Pray know this Gentleman,
 And these fair Ladies.
Nat. Monsieur Mirabell,
 I am much affected with your fair return, Sir;
 You bring a general joy.
Mir. I bring you service,
 And these bright Beauties, Sir.
Nat. Welcome home, Gentlemen,
 Welcome, with all my heart.
Bel. Pin. We thank ye, Sir.
La-C. Your friends will have their share too.
Bel. Sir, we hope
 They'll look upon us, though we shew like strangers.
Nat. Monsieur De-Gard, I must salute you also,
 And this fair Gentlewoman: you are welcome from your Travel too.
 All welcome, all.
De-Gard. We render ye our loves, Sir:
 The best Wealth we bring home: By your Favours, Beauties,
 One of these two: you know my meaning.
Or. Well, Sir:
 They are fair and handsom, I must needs confess it;
 And let it prove the worst, I shall live after it,
 Whilst I have meat and drink Love cannot starve me;
 For if I dye o'th' first fit I am unhappy,
 And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.
Mir. To marry, Sir?
La-C. You know I am an old man,
 And every hour declining to my Grave,
 One foot already in, more Sons I have not,
 Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy,
 In you lies all my hope, and all my name,
 The making good or wretched of my memory,
 The safety of my state.
Mir. And you have provided
 Out of this tenderness these handsom Gentlewomen,
 Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?
La-C. I have, dear Son.
Mir. 'Tis true, ye are old, and feebled;
 Would ye were young again, and in full vigor;
 I love a bounteous Fathers life, a long one,
 I am none of those that when they shoot to ripeness,
 Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on;
 I wish ye many years and many Riches,
 And pleasures to enjoy 'em: But for Marriage,
 I neither yet believe in't, nor affect it,
 Nor think it fit.
La-C. You will render me your reasons?
Mir. Yes, Sir, both short and pithy, and these they are:
 You would have me marry a Maid?
La-C. A Maid? what else?
Mir. Yes, there be things called Widows, dead mens Wills,
 I never lov'd to prove those; nor never long'd yet
 To be buried alive in another mans cold monument.
 And there be maids appearing, and maids being:
 The appearing are fantastick things, meer shadows;
 And if you mark 'em well, they want their heads too;
 Only the World to cozen misty eyes,
 Has clapt 'em on new faces. The maids being,
 A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry;
 If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;
 And let him take heed how he gathers these too,
 For look ye, father, they are just like melons,
 Musk-melons are the emblems of these maids;
 Now they are ripe, now cut 'em, they taste pleasantly,
 And are a dainty fruit, digested easily:
 Neglect this present time, and come to morrow,
 They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness
 Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.
La-C. Why, these are now ripe, Son.
Mir. I'll try them presently,
 And if I like their taste—
La-C. 'Pray ye please your self, Sir.
Mir. That liberty is my due, and I'll maintain it:
 Lady, what think you of a handsom man now?
Ros. A wholsom too, Sir.
Mir. That's as you make your Bargain.
 A handsom, wholsom man then, and a kind man,
 To cheer your heart up, to rejoyce you, Lady?
Ros. Yes Sir, I love rejoycing.
Mir. To lye close to you?
 Close as a Cockle? keep the cold nights from you?
Ros. That will be lookt for too, our bodies ask it.
Mir. And get two Boys at every Birth?
Ros. That's nothing,
 I have known a Cobler do it, a poor thin Cobler;
 A Cobler out of mouldy Cheese perform it,
 Cabbage, and coarse black Bread; methinks a Gentleman
 Should take foul scorn to have an awl outname him.
 Two at a Birth? why, every house-Dove has it:
 That man that feeds well, promises as well too,
 I should expect indeed something of worth from.
 Ye talk of two?
Mir. She would have me get two dozen,
 Like Buttons, at a Birth.
Ros. You love to brag, Sir.
 If you proclaim these offers at your Marriage,
 You are a pretty timber'd man, take heed.
 They may be taken hold of, and expected,
 Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.
Mir. I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel:
 Father, what think you?
La-C. 'Tis a merry Gentlewoman;
 Will make, no doubt, a good wife.
Mir. Not for me:
 I marry her, and happily get nothing;
 In what a state am I then? Father, I shall suffer
 For any thing I hear to the contrary, more majorum,
 I were as sure to be a Cuckold, Father,
 A Gentleman of Antler.
La-C. Away, away, fool.
Mir. As I am sure to fail her expectation,
 I had rather get the Pox than get her Babies.
La-C. Ye are much to blame; if this do not affect ye,
 'Pray try the other; she's of a more demure way.
Bel. That I had but the audacity to talk thus!
 I love that plain-spoken Gentlewoman admirably,
 And certain I could go as near to please her,
 If down-right doing—she has a per'lous Countenance,
 If I could meet one that would believe me,
 And take my honest meaning without circumstance.
Mir. You shall have your will, Sir, I will try the other,
 But 'twill be to small use. I hope, fair Lady
 (For methinks in your eyes I see more mercy)
 You will enjoin your Lover a less penance;
 And though I'll promise much, as men are liberal,
 And vow an ample sacrifice of service,
 Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,
 And thriftiness in Love, good huswives carefulness
 To keep the stock entire—
Lil. Good Sir, speak louder,
 That these may witness too ye talk of nothing,
 I should be loth alone to bear the burthen
 Of so much indiscretion.
Mir. Hark ye, hark ye;
 Ods bobs, you are angry, Lady.
Lil. Angry? no, Sir;
 I never own'd an anger to lose poorly.
Mir. But you can love for all this, and delight too,
 For all your set-austerity, to hear
 Of a good husband, Lady?
Lil. You say true, Sir:
 For by my troth, I have heard of none these ten years,
 They are so rare, and there are so many, Sir,
 So many longing-women on their knees too,
 That pray the dropping down of these good husbands,
 The droping down from heaven; for they are not bred [here],
 That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing—
Mir. Why may not I be one?
Lil. You were near 'em once, Sir,
 When ye came over the Alpes; those are near Heaven;
 But since ye miss'd that happiness, there is no hope of ye.
Mir. Can ye love a man?
Lil. Yes, if the man be lovely;
 That is, be honest, modest; I would have him valiant,
 His anger slow, but certain for his honour;
 Travell'd he should be, but through himself exactly;
 For 'tis fairer to know manners well than Countries;
 He must be no vain Talker, nor no Lover
 To hear himself talk, they are brags of a wanderer,
 Of one finds no retreict for fair behaviour;
 Would ye learn more?
Mir. Yes.
Lil. Learn to hold your peace then,
 Fond Girls are got with tongues, women with tempers.
Mir. Women, with I know what; but let this vanish:
 Go thy way good Wife Bias; sure thy Husband
 Must have a strong Philosophers stone, he will ne'r please thee else.
 Here's a starcht piece of austerity; do you hear, Father?
 Do you hear this moral Lecture?
La-C. Yes, and like it.
Mir. Why, there's your judgment now; there's an old bolt shot:
 This thing must have the strangest observation,
 Do you mark me (father?) when she is married once,
 The strangest custom too of admiration
 On all she does and speaks, 'twill be past sufferance;
 I must not lie with her in common language,
 Nor cry have at thee, Kate, I shall be hiss'd then;
 Nor eat my meat without the sawce of sentences,
 Your powder'd Beef, and Problems, a rare diet;
 My first Son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it,
 Great Master of the Metaphysicks, or so;
 The second Solon, and the best Law-setter;
 And I must look Egyptian God-fathers,
 Which will be no small trouble: my eldest daughter
 Sapho, or such a fidling kind of Poetess,
 And brought up, invita Minerva, at her needle.
 My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,
 Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Baudiface.
 I married to a sullen set of sentences?
 To one that weighs her words and her behaviours
 In the gold-weights of discretion? I'll be hang'd first.
La-C. Prithee reclaim thy self.
Mir. 'Pray ye give me time then;
 If they can set me any thing to play at,
 That seems fit for a Gamester, have at the fairest
 Till I see more, and try more.
La-C. Take your time then,
 I'll bar ye no fair liberty: come Gentlemen,
 And Ladies come: to all once more welcome,
 And now let's in to supper.
Mir. How dost' like 'em?
Pin. They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours.
Mir. Too strange for me; I must have those have mettle,
 And mettle to my mind; Come, let's be merry.
Bel. 'Bless me from this woman: I would stand the Cannon
 Before ten words of hers.
De-Gar. Do you find him now?
 Do you think he will be ever firm?
Or. I fear not. [Exeunt.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Belleur.

Mir. Ne'r tell me of this happiness, 'tis nothing;
 The state they bring with being sought to scurvey,
 I had rather make mine own play, and I will do.
 My happiness is in mine own content,
 And the despising of such glorious trifles,
 As I have done a thousand more. For my humour,
 Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me,
 A jovial fair Companion; there's a Beauty:
 For women, I can have too many of them;
 Good women too, as the Age reckons 'em,
 More than I have employment for.
Pin. You are happy.
Mir. My only fear is, that I must be forced
 Against my nature, to conceal my self.
 Health, and an able Body are two jewels.
Pi. If either of these two women were offered to me now,
 I would think otherwise, and do accordingly:
 Yes, and recant my heresies, I would fain, Sir;
 And be more tender of opinion,
 And put a little off my travel'd liberty
 Out of the way, and look upon 'em seriously.
 Methinks this grave carried wench.
Bel. Methinks the other,
 The home-spoken Gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful,
 That treats of the full manage of the matter,
 For there lies all my aim; that wench, methinks
 If I were but well set on; for she is a fable,
 If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me:
 She speaks to th' matter, and comes home to th' point:
 Now do I know I have such a body to please her,
 As all the Kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on't,
 If I could but talk my self into her favour.
Mir. That's easily done.
Bel. That's easily said, would 'twere done;
 You should see then how I would lay about me;
 If I were vertuous, it would never grieve me,
 Or any thing that might justifie my modesty,
 But when my nature is prone to do a charitie,
 And my calfs-tongue will not help me.
Mir. Will ye go to 'em?
 They cannot but take it courteously.
Pi. I'le do my part,
 Though I am sure 'twill be the hardest I e're plaid yet,
 A way I never try'd too, which will stagger me,
 And if it do not shame me, I am happy.
Mir. Win 'em, and wear 'em, I give up my interest.
Pi. What say ye, Monsieur Bellure?
Bel. Would I could say,
 Or sing, or any thing that were but handsom,
 I would be with her presently.
Pi. Yours is no venture;
 A merry ready wench.
Bel. A vengeance squibber;
 She'l fleer me out of faith too.
Mir. I'le be near thee;
 Pluck up thy heart, I'le second thee at all brunts;
 Be angry if she abuse thee, and beat her a little,
 Some women are won that way.
Bel. Pray be quiet,
 And let me think: I am resolv'd to go on;
 But how I shall get off again—
Mir. I am perswaded
 Thou wilt so please her, she will go near to ravish thee.
Bel. I would 'twere come to that once: let me pray a little.
Mir. Now for thine honour Pinac; board me this modesty,
 Warm but this frozen snow-ball, 'twill be a conquest
 (Although I know thou art a fortunate Wencher,
 And hast done rarely in thy daies) above all thy ventures.
Bel. You will be ever near?
Mir. At all necessities,
 And take thee off, and set thee on again, Boy;
 And cherish thee, and stroak thee.
Bel. Help me out too?
 For I know I shall stick i'th' mire: if ye see us close once,
 Be gone, and leave me to my fortune, suddenly,
 For I am then determin'd to do wonders.
 Farewel, and fling an old shooe: how my heart throbs!
 Would I were drunk: Farewel Pinac; Heaven send us
 A joyfull and a merry meeting, man.
Pi. Farewel,
 And chear thy heart up; and remember Bellure
 They are but women.
Bel. I had rather they were Lyons. [Exeunt.
Mir. About it; I'le be with you instantly.

Enter Oriana.

Shall I ne'r be at rest? no peace of conscience?
 No quiet for these creatures? Am I ordain'd
 To be devour'd quick by these she-Canibals?
 Here's another they call handsom, I care not for her,
 I ne'r look after her: when I am half tipled
 It may be I should turn her, and peruse her,
 Or in my want of women, I might call for her;
 But to be haunted when I have no fancie,
 No maw to th' matter—Now, why do you follow me?
Ori. I hope, Sir, 'tis no blemish to my vertue,
 Nor need you (out of scruple) ask that question,
 If you remember ye, before your Travel
 The contract you ty'd to me: 'tis my love, Sir,
 That makes me seek ye, to confirm your memory,
 And that being fair and good, I cannot suffer:
 I come to give ye thanks too.
Mir. For what 'prethee?
Ori. For that fair piece of honesty ye shew'd, Sir,
 That constant nobleness.
Mir. How? for I am short headed.
Ori. I'le tell ye then; for refusing that free offer
 Of Monsieur Natolets; those handsom Beauties,
 Those two prime Ladies, that might well have prest ye,
 If not to have broken, yet to have bow'd your promise,
 I know it was for my sake, for your faith sake,
 You slipt 'em off: your honesty compell'd ye.
 And let me tell ye, Sir, it shew'd most handsomly.
Mir. And let me tell thee, there was no such matter:
 Nothing intended that way of that nature;
 I have more to do with my honesty than to fool it,
 Or venture it in such leak barks as women;
 I put 'em off, because I lov'd 'em not,
 Because they are too queazie for my temper,
 And not for thy sake, nor the Contract sake,
 Nor vows, nor oaths; I have made a thousand of 'em,
 They are things indifferent, whether kept or broken;
 Meer venial slips, that grow not near the conscience;
 Nothing concerns those tender parts; they are trifles;
 For, as I think, there was never man yet hop'd for
 Either constancie, or secrecie, from a woman,
 Unless it were an Ass ordain'd for sufferance;
 Nor to contract with such can be a Tial;
 So let them know again; for 'tis a Justice,
 And a main point of civil policie,
 What e're we say or swear, they being Reprobates,
 Out of the state of faith, we are clear of all sides,
 And 'tis a curious blindness to believe us.
Ori. You do not mean this sure?
Mir. Yes sure, and certain,
 And hold it positively, as a Principle,
 As ye are strange things, and made of strange fires and fluxes,
 So we are allow'd as strange wayes to obtain ye,
 But not to hold; we are all created Errant.
Ori. You told me other tales.
Mir. I not deny it;
 I have tales of all sorts for all sorts of women,
 And protestations likewise of all sizes,
 As they have vanities to make us coxcombs;
 If I obtain a good turn, so it is,
 I am thankfull for it: if I be made an Ass,
 The mends are in mine own hands, or the Surgeons,
 And there's an end on't.
Ori. Do not you love me then?
Mir. As I love others, heartily I love thee,
 When I am high and lusty, I love thee cruelly:
 After I have made a plenteous meal, and satisfi'd
 My senses with all delicates, come to me,
 And thou shalt see how I love thee.
Ori. Will not you marry me?
Mir. No, certain, no, for any thing I know yet;
 I must not lose my liberty, dear Lady,
 And like a wanton slave cry for more shackles.
 What should I marry for? Do I want any thing?
 Am I an inch the farther from my pleasure?
 Why should I be at charge to keep a wife of mine own,
 When other honest married men will ease me?
 And thank me too, and be beholding to me:
 Thou thinkst I am mad for a Maiden-head, thou art cozen'd;
 Or if I were addicted to that diet
 Can you tell me where I should have one? thou art eighteen now,
 And if thou hast thy Maiden-head yet extant,
 Sure 'tis as big as Cods-head: and those grave dishes
 I never love to deal withal: Do'st thou see this book here?
 Look over all these ranks; all these are women,
 Maids, and pretenders to Maiden-heads; these are my conquests,
 All these I swore to marry, as I swore to thee,
 With the same reservation, and most righteously,
 Which I need not have done neither; for alas they made no scruple,
 And I enjoy'd 'em at my will, and left 'em:
 Some of 'em are married since, and were as pure maids again,
 Nay o' my conscience better than they were bred for;
 The rest fine sober women.
Ori. Are ye not asham'd, Sir?
Mir. No by my troth, Sir; there's no shame belongs to it;
 I hold it as commendable to be wealthy in pleasure,
 As others do in rotten sheep, and pasture.

Enter de Gard.

Ori. Are all my hopes come to this? is there no faith?
 No troth? nor modesty in men?
de [G]a. How now Sister,
 Why weeping thus? did I not prophesie?
 Come tell me why—
Ori. I am not well; 'pray ye pardon me. [Exit.
de Ga. Now Monsieur Mirabel, what ails my Sister?
 You have been playing the wag with her.
Mir. As I take it,
 She is crying for a cod-piece; is she gone?
 Lord, what an Age is this! I was calling for ye,
 For as I live I thought she would have ravish'd me.
de Ga. Ye are merry Sir.
Mir. Thou know'st this book, de Gard, this Inventory.
de Ga. The debt-book of your Mistresses, I remember it.
Mir. Why this was it that anger'd her; she was stark mad
 She found not her name here, and cry'd down-right,
 Because I would not pity her immediately,
 And put her in my list.
de Ga. Sure she had more modesty.
Mir. Their modesty is anger to be over-done;
 They'l quarrel sooner for precedence here,
 And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted,
 Than they will in publique meetings; 'tis their natures:
 And alas I have so many to dispatch yet,
 And to provide my self for my affairs too,
 That in good faith—
de Gard. Be not too glorious foolish;
 Summe not your Travels up with vanities,
 It ill becomes your expectation:
 Temper your speech, Sir; whether your loose story
 Be true, or false (for you are so free, I fear it)
 Name not my Sister in't; I must not hear it;
 Upon your danger name her not: I hold her
 A Gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage,
 A good mans tongue may be right proud to speak her.
Mir. Your Sister, Sir? d'ye blench at that? d'ye cavil?
 Do you hold her such a piece, she may not be play'd withal?
 I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler,
 Have su'd to me too for such a courtesie:
 Your Sister comes i'th' rear: since ye are so angry,
 And hold your Sister such a strong Recusant,
 I tell ye I may do it, and it may be will too,
 It may be have too, there's my free confession;
 Work upon that now.
de Gard. If I thought ye had, I would work,
 And work such stubborn work, should make your heart ake;
 But I believe ye, as I ever knew ye,
 A glorious talker, and a Legend maker
 Of idle tales, and trifles; a depraver
 Of your own truth; their honours fly about ye;
 And so I take my leave, but with this caution,
 Your sword be surer than your tongue, you'l smart else.
Mir. I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee;
 And I'le talk louder, and despise thy Sister;
 Set up a Chamber-maid that shall out-shine her,
 And carry her in my Coach too, and that will kill her.
 Go get thy Rents up, go.
de Gard. Ye are a fine Gentleman. [Exit.
Mir. Now have at my two youths, I'le see how they do,
 How they behave themselves, and then I'le study
 What wench shall love me next, and when I'le lose her.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Pinac, and a Servant.

Pinac. Art thou her servant, saist thou?
Ser. Her poor creature,
 But servant to her horse, Sir.
Pinac. Canst thou shew me
 The way to her chamber? or where I may conveniently
 See her, or come to talk to her?
Ser. That I can, Sir;
 But the question is whether I will or no.
Pinac. Why I'le content thee.
Ser. Why I'le content thee then; now ye come to me.
Pi. There's for your diligence.
Ser. There's her chamber, Sir;
 And this way she comes out; stand ye but here, Sir,
 You have her at your prospect, or your pleasure.
Pi. Is she not very angry?
Ser. You'l find that quickly:
 May be she'll call ye sawcy scurvey fellow,
 Or some such familiar name: 'may be she knows ye,
 And will fling a Piss-pot at ye, or a Pantofle,
 According as ye are in acquaintance: if she like ye,
 'May be she'll look upon ye, 'may be no,
 And two moneths hence call for ye.
Pinac. This is fine.
 She is monstrous proud then?
Ser. She is a little haughtie;
 Of a small body, she has a mind well mounted.
 Can ye speak Greek?
Pinac. No, certain.
Ser. Get ye gone then;
 And talk of stars, and firmaments, and fire-drakes.
 Do you remember who was Adams School-master,
 And who taught Eve to spin? she knows all these,
 And will run ye over the beginning o'th' world
 As familiar as a Fidler.
 Can ye sit seven hours together, and say nothing?
 Which she will do, and when she speaks, speak Oracles;
 Speak things that no man understands, nor her self neither.
Pi. Thou mak'st me wonder.
Ser. Can ye smile?
Pi. Yes willingly:
 For naturally I bear a mirth about me.
Ser. She'l ne'r endure ye then; she is never merry;
 If she see one laugh, she'll swound past Aqua vitÆ:
 Never come near her, Sir; if ye chance to venture,
 And talk not like a Doctor, you are damn'd too;
 I have told enough for your crown, and so good speed ye. [Ex.
Pi. I have a pretty task, if she be thus curious,
 As sure it seems she is; if I fall off now,
 I shall be laugh'd at fearfully; if I go forward,
 I can but be abus'd, and that I look for,
 And yet I may hit right, but 'tis unlikely.
 Stay, in what mood and figure shall I attempt her?
 A careless way? no, no, that will not waken her;
 Besides, her gravity will give me line still,
 And let me lose my self; yet this way often
 Has hit, and handsomly. A wanton method?
 I, if she give it leave to sink into her consideration;
 But there's the doubt: if it but stir her blood once,
 And creep into the crannies of her phansie,
 Set her a gog: but if she chance to slight it,
 And by the pow'r of her modesty fling it back,
 I shall appear the arrantst Rascal to her,
 The most licentious knave, for I shall talk lewdly.
 To bear my self austerely? rate my words,
 And fling a general gravitie about me,
 As if I meant to give Laws? but this I cannot do,
 This is a way above my understanding;
 Or if I could, 'tis odds she'll think I mock her;
 For serious and sad things are ever still suspicious.
 Well, I'le say something.
 But learning I have none, and less good manners,
 Especially for Ladies; well, I'le set my best face;

Enter Lilia, Petella.

I hear some coming; this is the first woman
 I ever fear'd yet, the first face that shakes me,
Li. Give me my hat Petella, take this veil off,
 This sullen cloud, it darkens my delights;
 Come wench be free, and let the Musick warble,
 Play me some lusty measure.
Pi. This is she sure,
 The very same I saw, the very woman,
 The Gravitie I wonder'd at: Stay, stay,
 Let me be sure; ne'r trust me, but she danceth,
 Summer is in her face now, and she skippeth:
 I'le go a little nearer.
Li. Quicker time fellows,

Enter Mirabel.

I cannot find my legs yet, now Petella.
Pi. I am amaz'd, I am founder'd in my fancies.
Mir. Hah, say ye so; is this your gravitie?
 This the austeritie ye put upon ye?
 I'le see more o' this sport.
Lil. A Song now;
 Call in for a merry, and a light Song,
 And sing it with a liberal spirit.

Enter a Man.

Man. Yes, Madam.
Lil. And be not amaz'd Sirrah, but take us for your own company.
 Let's walk our selves: come wench, would we had a man or two.
Pi. Sure she has spi'd me, and will abuse me dreadfully,
 She has put on this for the purpose; yet I will try her.
 Madam, I would be loth my rude intrusion,
 Which I must crave a pardon for—
Lil. O ye are welcom,
 Ye are very welcom, Sir, we want such a one;
 Strike up again: I dare presume ye dance well:
 Quick, quick, Sir, quick, the time steals on.
Pi. I would talk with ye.
Lil. Talk as ye dance.
Mir. She'l beat him off his legs first,
 This is the finest Masque.
Lil. Now how do ye, Sir?
Pi. You have given me a shrewd heat.
Lil. I'le give ye a hundred.
 Come sing now, sing; for I know ye sing well,
 I see ye have a singing face.
Pi. A fine Modesty!
 If I could, she'd never give me breath,
 Madam would I might sit and recover.
Lil. Sit here, and sing now,
 Let's do things quickly, Sir, and handsomly,
 Sit close wench, close, begin, begin. [Song.
Pi. I am lesson'd.
Lil. 'Tis very pretty i'faith, give me some wine now.
Pi. I would fain speak to ye.
Lil. You shall drink first, believe me:
 Here's to ye a lusty health.
Pi. I thank ye Lady,
 Would I were off again; I smell my misery;
 I was never put to this rack; I shall be drunk too.
Mir. If thou be'st not a right one, I have lost mine aim much:
 I thank Heaven that I have scap'd thee; To her Pinac;
 For thou art as sure to have her, and to groan for her—
 I'le see how my other youth does; this speeds trimly:
 A fine grave Gentlewoman, and worth much honour. [Exit.
Lil. Now? how do ye like me, Sir?
Pi. I like ye rarely.
Lil. Ye see, Sir, though sometimes we are grave and silent,
 And put on sadder dispositions,
 Yet we are compounded of free parts, and sometimes too
 Our lighter, airie, and our fierie mettles
 Break out, and shew themselves; and what think you of that Sir?
Pi. Good Lady sit, for I am very weary;
 And then I'le tell ye.
Lil. Fie, a young man idle?
 Up, and walk; be still in action.
 The motions of the body are fair beauties,
 Besides 'tis cold; ods-me Sir, let's walk faster,
 What think ye now of the Lady Felicia?
 And Bella-fronte the Dukes fair Daughter? ha?
 Are they not handsom things? there is Duarta,
 And brown Olivia.
Pi. I know none of 'em.
Lil. But brown must not be cast away, Sir; if young Lelia
 Had kept her self till this day from a Husband,
 Why what a Beauty, Sir! you know Ismena
 The fair Jem of Saint Germans?
Pi. By my troth I do not.
Lil. And then I know you must hear of Brisac,
 How unlike a Gentleman—
Pi. As I live I have heard nothing.
Lil. Strike me another Galliard.
Pi. By this light I cannot;
 In troth I have sprain'd my leg, Madam.
Lil. Now sit ye down, Sir,
 And tell me why ye came hither, why ye chose me out?
 What is your business? your errant? dispatch, dispatch!
 'May be ye are some Gentlemans man, and I mistook ye,
 That have brought me a Letter, or a haunch of Venison,
 Sent me from some friend of mine.
Pi. Do I look like a Carrier?
 You might allow me what I am, a Gentleman.
Lil. Cry 'ye mercie, Sir, I saw ye yesterday,
 You are new come out of Travel, I mistook ye;
 And how do all our impudent friends in Italie?
Pi. Madam, I came with duty, and fair courtesie,
 Service, and honour to ye.
Lil. Ye came to jear me:
 Ye see I am merry, Sir, I have chang'd my copy:
 None of the Sages now, and 'pray ye proclaim it,
 Fling on me what aspersion you shall please, Sir,
 Of wantonness, or wildness, I look for it;
 And tell the world I am an hypocrite,
 Mask in a forc'd and borrow'd shape, I expect it;
 But not to have you believ'd; for mark ye, Sir,
 I have won a nobler estimation,
 A stronger tie by my discretion
 Upon opinion (how e're you think I forced it)
 Than either tongue or art of yours can slubber,
 And when I please I will be what I please, Sir,
 So I exceed not Mean; and none shall brand it
 Either with scorn or shame, but shall be slighted.
Pi. Lady, I come to love ye.
Lil. Love your self, Sir,
 And when I want observers, I'll send for ye:
 Heigh, ho; my fit's almost off, for we do all by fits, Sir:
 If ye be weary, sit till I come again to ye. [Exit.
Pi. This is a wench of a dainty spirit; but hang me if I know yet
 Either what to think, or make of her; she had her will of me,
 And baited me abundantly, I thank her,
 And I confess I never was so blur[t]ed,
 Nor ever so abus'd; I must bear mine own sins;
 Ye talk of Travels, here's a curious Country,
 Yet I will find her out, or forswear my facultie. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Enter Rosalura, and Oriana.

Ros. Ne'r vex your self, nor grieve; ye are a fool then.
Or. I am sure I am made so: yet before I suffer
 Thus like a girl, and give him leave to triumph—
Ros. You say right; for as long as he perceives ye
 Sink under his proud scornings, he'll laugh at ye:
 For me secure your self; and for my Sister,
 I partly know her mind too: howsoever
 To obey my Father we have made a tender
 Of our poor beauties to the travel'd Monsieur;
 Yet two words to a bargain; he slights us
 As skittish things, and we shun him as curious.
 May be my free behaviour turns his stomach,
 And makes him seem to doubt a loose opinion.
 I must be so sometimes, though all the world saw it.
Ori. Why should not ye? Are our minds only measur'd?
 As long as here ye stand secure.
Ros. Ye say true;
 As long as mine own Conscience makes no question,
 What care I for Report? That Woman's miserable
 That's good or bad for their tongues sake: Come let's retire.
 And get my veil Wench: By my troth your sorrow,
 And the consideration of mens humorous maddings,
 Have put me into a serious contemplation.

Enter Mirabel and Belleur.

Oria. Come 'faith, let's sit, and think.
Ros. That's all my business.
Mir. Why standst thou peeping here? thou great slug, forward.
Bel. She is there, peace.
Mir. Why standst thou here then,
 Sneaking, and peaking, as thou would'[st] steal linnen?
 Hast thou not place and time?
Bel. I had a rare speech
 Studied, and almost ready, and your violence
 Has beat it out of my brains.
Mir. Hang your rare speeches,
 Go me on like a man.
Bel. Let me set my Beard up.
 How has Pinac performed?
Mir. He has won already:
 He stands not thrumming of caps thus.
Bel. Lord, what should I ail?
 What a cold I have over my stomach; would I had some Hum.
 Certain I have a great mind to be at her:
 A mighty mind.
Mir. On fool.
Bel. Good words, I beseech ye;
 For I will not be abused by both.
Mir. Adieu, then,
 I will not trouble you, I see you are valiant,
 And work your own way.
Bel. Hist, hist, I will be rul'd,
 I will 'faith, I will go presently:
 Will ye forsake me now and leave me i'th' suds?
 You know I am false-hearted this way; I beseech ye,
 Good sweet Mirabel; I'le cut your throat if ye leave me,
 Indeed I will sweet heart.
Mir. I will be ready,
 Still at thine elbow; take a mans heart to thee,
 And speak thy mind: the plainer still the better.
 She is a woman of that free behaviour,
 Indeed that common courtesie, she cannot deny thee;
 Go bravely on.
Bel. Madam—keep close about me,
 Still at my back. Madam, sweet Madam—
Ros. Ha;
 What noise is that, what saucy sound to trouble me?
Mir. What said she?
Bel. I am saucy.
Mir. 'Tis the better.
Bel. She comes; must I be saucy still?
Mir. More saucy.
Ros. Still troubled with these vanities? Heaven bless us;
 What are we born to? would ye speak with any of my people?
 Go in, Sir, I am busie.
Bel. This is not she sure:
 Is this two Children at a Birth? I'le be hang'd then:
 Mine was a merry Gentlewoman, talkt daintily,
 Talkt of those matters that befitted women;
 This is a parcel-pray'r-book; I'm serv'd sweetly;
 And now I am to look too; I was prepar'd for th' other way.
Ros. Do you know that man?
Oria. Sure I have seen him, Lady.
Ros. Methinks 'tis pity such a lusty fellow
 Should wander up and down and want employment.
Bel. She takes me for a Rogue: you may do well, Madam,
 To stay this wanderer, and set him a work, forsooth,
 He can do something that may please your Ladiship.
 I have heard of Women that desire good breedings,
 Two at a birth, or so.
Ros. The fellow's impudent.
Oria. Sure he is crazed.
Ros. I have heard of men too, that have had good manners;
 Sure this is want of grace; indeed 'tis great pity
 The young man has been bred so ill; but this lewd Age
 Is full of such examples.
Bel. I am founder'd,
 And some shall rue the setting of me on.
Mir. Ha? so bookish, Lady, is it possible?
 Turn'd holy at the heart too? I'le be hang'd then:
 Why this is such a feat, such an activity,
 Such fast and loose: a veyl too for your Knavery?
 O dio, dio!
Ros. What do you take me for, Sir?
Mir. An hypocrite, a wanton, a dissembler,
 How e're ye seem, and thus ye are to be handled.
 Mark me Belleur, and this you love, I know it.
Ros. Stand off, bold Sir.
Mir. You wear good Cloaths to this end,
 Jewels, love Feasts, and Masques.
Ros. Ye are monstrous saucy.
Mir. All this to draw on fools? and thus, thus Lady,
 Ye are to be lull'd.
Bel. Let her alone, I'le swinge ye else,
 I will 'faith; for though I cannot skill o'this matter
 My self, I will not see another do it before me,
 And do it worse.
Ros. Away, ye are a vain thing;
 You have travell'd far, Sir, to return again
 A windy and poor Bladder: you talk of Women,
 That are not worth the favour of a common one;
 The grace of her grew in an Hospital:
 Against a thousand such blown fooleries
 I am able to maintain good Womens honours,
 Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it.
Mir. She has almost struck me dumb too.
Ros. And declaim
 Against your base malicious tongues; your noises;
 For they are nothing else: You teach behaviours?
 Or touch us for our freedoms? teach your selves manners,
 Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly
 That our lives may shine in ye; and then task us:
 It seems ye are hot, the suburbs will supply ye.
 Good Women scorn such Gamesters; so I'le leave ye,
 I am sorry to see this: 'faith Sir, live fairly. [Exit.
Mir. This woman, if she hold on, may be vertuous,
 'Tis almost possible: we'll have a new day.
Bel. Ye brought me on, ye forced me to this foolery;
 I am asham'd, I am scorn'd, I am flurted; yes, I am so:
 Though I cannot talk to a woman like your worship,
 And use my phrases, and my learned figures,
 Yet I can fight with any man.
Mir. Fie.
Bel. I can, Sir,
 And I will fight.
Mir. With whom?
Bel. With you, with any man;
 For all men now will laugh at me.
Mir. Prethee be moderate.
Bel. And I'le beat all men. Come.
Mir. I love thee dearly.
Bel. I beat all that love, Love has undone me;
 Never tell me, I will not be a History.
Mir. Thou art not.
Bel. 'Sfoot I will not; give me room,
 And let me see the proudest of ye jeer me,
 And I'le begin with you first.
Mir. 'Prethee Belleur;
 If I do not satisfie thee—
Bel. Well, look ye do:
 But now I think on't better, 'tis impossible;
 I must beat some body, I am maul'd my self,
 And I ought in justice—
Mir. No, no, no, ye are couzen'd;
 But walk, and let me talk to thee.
Bel. Talk wisely,
 And see that no man laugh upon no occasion;
 For I shall think then 'tis at me.
Mir. I warrant thee.
Bel. Nor no more talk of this.
Mir. Do'st think I am maddish?
Bel. I must needs fight yet; for I find it concerns me,
 A pox on't, I must fight.
Mir. 'Faith thou shalt not. [Exeunt.

Enter De Gard, and Leverdure, alias Lugier.

De G. I know ye are a Scholar, and can do wonders.
Lug. There's no great Scholarship belongs to this, Sir;
 What I am, I am; I pity your poor Sister,
 And heartily I hate these Travellers,
 These Gim-cracks, made of Mops, and Motions:
 There's nothing in their houses here but hummings;
 A Bee has more brains. I grieve, and vex too
 The insolent licentious carriage
 Of this out-facing fellow, Mirabell,
 And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.
De Gar. His wrongs you partly know.
Lug. Do not you stir, Sir,
 Since he has begun with wit, let wit revenge it;
 Keep your sword close, we'll cut his throat a new way.
 I am asham'd the Gentlewoman should suffer
 Such base lewd wrongs.
De Gar. I will be rul'd, he shall live,
 And left to your revenge.
Lug. I, I, I'le fit him:
 He makes a common scorn of handsome Women;
 Modesty, and good manners are his May-games:
 He takes up Maidenheads with a new Commission;
 The Church warrant's out of date: follow my Counsel,
 For I am zealous in the Cause.
De Gar. I will, Sir;
 And will be still directed: for the truth is
 My Sword will make my Sister seem more monstrous:
 Besides there is no honour won on Reprobates.
Lug. You are i'th' right: The slight he has shew'd my Pupils,
 Sets me a fire too: go I'le prepare your Sister,
 And as I told ye.
De Gar. Yes all shall be fit, Sir.
Lug. And seriously, and handsomely.
De Gar. I warrant ye.
Lug. A little counsel more.
De Gar. 'Tis well.
Lug. Most stately.
 See that observ'd; and then.
De Gar. I have ye every way.
Lug. Away then and be ready.
De Gar. With all speed, Sir. [Exit.

Enter Lillia, Rosalure, and Oriana.

Lug. We'll learn to travel too, may be beyond him.
 Good day, Fair beauties.
Lil. You have beautified us.
 We thank ye, Sir, ye have set us off most gallantly
 With your grave precepts.
Ros. We expected Husbands
 Out of your Documents, and taught behaviours;
 Excellent Husbands, thought men would run stark mad on us,
 Men of all Ages, and all states: we expected
 An Inundation of desires, and offers,
 A Torrent of trim Suitors: all we did,
 Or said, or purpos'd to be Spells about us,
 Spells to provoke—
Lil. Ye have provoke'd us finely,
 We follow'd your directions, we did rarely,
 We were Stately, Coy, Demure, Careless, Light, Giddy,
 And play'd at all points: This you swore would carry.
Ros. We made Love, and contemn'd Love. Now seem'd holy
 With such a reverent put-on Reservation
 Which could not miss according to your Principles,
 Now gave more hope again. Now close, now publick,
 Still up and down, we beat it like a Billow;
 And ever those behaviours you read to us,
 Subtil, and new. But all this will not help us.
Lil. They help to hinder us of all Acquaintance,
 They have frighted off all Friends: what am I better
 For all my Learning, if I love a Dunce,
 A handsome dunce? to what use serves my Reading?
 You should have taught me what belongs to Horses,
 Doggs, Dice, Hawks, Banquets, Masks, free and fair Meetings,
 To have studied Gowns and Dressings.
Lug. Ye are not mad sure.
Ros. We shall be if we follow your encouragements;
 I'le take mine own way now.
Lil. And I my fortune:
 We may live Maids else till the Moon drop Mil-stones;
 I see your modest Women are taken for monsters,
 A Dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.
Lug. Since ye take it so to th' heart, pray'ye give me leave yet,
 And ye shall see how I'le convert this Heretick;
 Mark how this Mirabell—
Lil. Name him no more:
 For, though I long for a Husband, I hate him,
 And would be marryed sooner to a Monkey,
 Or to a Jack of Straw, than such a Juggler.
Ros. I am of that mind too; he is too nimble,
 And plays at fast and loose too learnedly
 For a plain-meaning Woman; that's the truth on't.
 Here's one too, that we love well, would be angry;
 And reason why: No, no, we will not trouble ye
 Nor him, at this time: may he make you happy.
 We'll turn our selves loose now, to our fair fortunes,
 And the down-right way.
Lil. The winning-way we'll follow,
 We'll bait, that men may bite fair, and not be frighted;
 Yet we'll not be carryed so cheap neither: we'll have some sport,
 Some mad-Morris or other for our mony, Tutor.
Lug. 'Tis like enough: prosper your own Devices;
 Ye are old enough to choose: But for this Gentlewoman,
 So please her, give me leave.
Oria. I shall be glad, Sir,
 To find a friend, whose pity may direct me.
Lug. I'le do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;
 But then ye must be ruled.
Oria. In all, I vow to ye.
Ros. Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I'le assure ye:
 And hunts the recovery of a lost Lover deadly.
Lug. You must away straight.
Oria. Yes.
Lug. And I'le instruct ye:
 Here ye can know no more.
Oria. By your leave, sweet Ladies,
 And all our Fortunes, arrive at our own wishes.
Lil. Amen, Amen.
Lug. I must borrow your man.
Lil. 'Pray take him;
 He is within: to do her good, take any thing,
 Take us, and all.
Lug. No doubt ye may find Takers;
 And so we'll leave ye to your own disposes. [Exeunt.
Lil. Now which way, Wench.
Ros. We'll go a brave way; fear not:
 A safe, and sure way too: and yet a by-way,
 I must confess I have a great mind to be married.
L[i]l. So have I too, a grudging of good-will that way;
 And would as fain be dispatch'd. But this Monsieur Quicksilver.
Ros. No, no: we'll bar him, by, and Main: Let him trample;
 There is no safety in his Surquedrie:
 An Army-Royal of women, are too few for him,
 He keeps a Journal of his Gentleness,
 And will go near to print his fair dispatches,
 And call it his triumph over time and women:
 Let him pass out of memory: what think ye
 Of his two Companions?
Lil. Pinac methinks is reasonable;
 A little modestie he has brought home with him,
 And might be taught in time some handsom duty.
Ros. They say he is a wencher too.
Lil. I like him better:
 A free light touch or two becomes a Gentleman,
 And sets him seemly off: so he exceed not,
 But keep his compass, clear he may be lookt at;
 I would not marry a man that must be taught,
 And conjur'd up with kisses; the best game
 Is plaid still by the best Gamesters.
Ros. Fie upon thee!
 What talk hast thou?
Lil. Are not we alone, and merry?
 Why should we be asham'd to speak what we think? thy Gentleman
 The tall fat fellow; he that came to see thee.
Ros. Is't not a goodly man?
Lil. A wondrous goodly!
 H'as weight enough I warrant thee: Mercy upon me;
 What a Serpent wilt thou seem under such a S. George.
Ros. Thou art a fool; give me a man brings Mettle,
 Brings substance with him; needs no Broths to Lare him:
 These little fellows shew like Fleas in boxes,
 Hop up and down, and keep a stir to vex us;
 Give me the puissant Pike, take you the small shot.
Lil. Of a great thing I have not seen a duller,
 Therefore methinks, sweet Sister—
Ros. Peace: he's modest:
 A bashfulness, which is a point of grace, wench:
 But when these fellows come to moulding, Sister,
 To heat, and handling: as I live, I like him;

Enter Mirabel.

And methinks I could form him.
Lil. Peace: the Fire-drake.
Mir. 'Bless ye sweet beauties: sweet incomparable Ladies:
 Sweet wits: sweet humours: 'Bless you, learned Lady,
 And you, most holy Nun; 'Bless your Devotions.
Lil. And 'bless your brains, Sir, your most pregnant brains, Sir,
 They are in Trav[ail], may they be delivered
 Of a most hopeful Wild-Goose.
Ros. 'Bless your manhood:
 They say ye are a Gentleman of action,
 A fair accomplish'd man; and a rare Engineer,
 You have a trick to blow up Maidenheads,
 A subtle trick, they say abroad.
Mir. I have Lady.
Ros. And often glory in their Ruines.
Mir. Yes forsooth;
 I have a speedy trick: please you to try it:
 My Engine will dispatch ye instantly.
Ros. I would I were a woman, Sir, fit for ye,
 As there be such, no doubt, may Engine you too;
 May with a Counter-mine blow up your valour:
 But in good faith, Sir, we are both too honest:
 And the plague is, we can not be perswaded:
 For, look ye: if we thought it were a glory
 To be the last of all your lovely Ladies.
Mir. Come, come; leave prating: this has spoil'd your Market;
 This pride, and pufft-up heart, will make ye fast, Ladies,
 Fast, when ye are hungry too.
Ros. The more our pain, Sir.
Lil. The more our health, I hope too.
Mir. Your behaviours
 Have made men stand amaz'd; those men that lov'd ye;
 Men of fair States and parts; your strange conventions
 Into I know not what, nor how, nor wherefore;
 Your scorns of those that came to visit ye;
 Your studied Whim-whams; and your fine set faces:
 What have these got ye? proud, and harsh opinions:
 A Travel'd-Monsieur, was the strangest Creature,
 The wildest Monster to be wondred at:
 His Person made a publique Scoff, his knowledge,
 (As if he had been bred 'mongst Bears or Bandoggs)
 Shunn'd and avoided: his conversation snuft at.
 What Harvest brings all this?
Ros. I pray ye proceed, Sir.
Mir. Now ye shall see in what esteem a Traveller,
 An understanding Gentleman, and a Monsieur
 Is to be held, and to your griefs confess it,
 Both to your griefs, and galls.
Lil. In what I pray ye, Sir?
 We would be glad to understand your excellence.
Mir. Goe on, (sweet Ladies) it becomes ye rarely.
 For me, I have blest me from ye, scoff on seriously,
 And note the Man ye mock'd: you, (Lady Learning)
 Note the poor Traveller, that came to visit ye,
 That flat unfurnish'd fellow: note him throughly,
 You may chance to see him anon.
Lil. 'Tis very likely.
Mir. And see him Courted by a Travell'd Lady,
 Held dear, and honour'd by a vertuous virgin,
 May be a Beautie, not far short of yours, neither
 It may be, clearer.
Lil. Not unlikely.
Mir. Younger:
 As killing eyes as yours: a wit as poynant
 May be, a State to that may top your Fortune;
 Enquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him;
 His good parts; in what precious price already;
 Being a stranger to him, how she courts him;
 A stranger to his Nation too, how she dotes on him:
 Enquire of this; be sick to know: Curse, Lady,
 And keep your chamber: cry, and curse: a sweet one,
 A thousand in yearly land; well bred; well friended:
 Travell'd, and highly followed for her fashions.
Lil. 'Bless his good fortune, Sir.
Mir. This scurvy fellow;
 I think they call his name Pinac; this serving-man
 That brought ye Venison, as I take it, Madam;
 Note but this Scab; 'tis strange that this course creature,
 That has no more set off, but his jugglings,
 His travell'd tricks.
Lil. Good, Sir, I grieve not at him,
 Nor envy not his fortune: yet I wonder,
 He's handsom; yet I see no such perfection.
Mir. Would I had his fortune: for 'tis a woman
 Of that sweet temper'd nature, and that judgment,
 Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,
 And such a wife to bless him.
Ros. Pray ye whence is she?
Mir. Of England, and a most accomplish'd Lady,
 So modest that mens eyes are frighted at her,
 And such a noble carriage. How now Sirrah?

Enter a Boy.

Boy. Sir, the great English Lady.
Mir. What of her, Sir?
Boy. Has newly left her coach, and coming this way,
 Where you may see her plain: Monsieur Pinac,
 The only man that leads her.

Enter Pinac, Mariana, and Attendants.

Mir. He is much honored;
 Would I had such a favour: now vex Ladies,
 Envy, and vex, and rail.
Ros. Ye are short of us, Sir.
Mir. 'Bless your fair fortune, Sir.
Pi. I nobly thank ye.
Mir. Is she married, friend?
Pi. No, no.
Mir. A goodly Lady;
 A sweet and delicate aspect: mark, mark, and wonder!
 Hast thou any hope of her?
Pi. A little.
Mir. Follow close then:
 Lose not that hope.
Pi. To you, Sir.
Mir. Gentle Lady.
Ros. She is fair indeed.
Lil. I have seen a fairer, yet
 She is well.
Ros. Her clothes sit handsom too.
Lil. She dresses prettily.
Ros. And by my faith she is rich, she looks still sweeter.
 A well bred woman, I warrant her.
Lil. Do you hear, Sir;
 May I crave this Gentlewomans name?
Pi. Mariana, Lady.
Lil. I will not say I ow ye a quarel Monsieur
 For making me your Stale: a noble Gentleman
 Would have had more courtesie; at least, more faith,
 Than to turn off his Mistris at first trial:
 You know not what respect I might have shew'd ye;
 I find ye have worth.
Pi. I cannot stay to answer ye;
 Ye see my charge: I am beholding to ye
 For all your merry tricks ye put upon me,
 Your bobs, and base accounts: I came to love ye,
 To wooe ye, and to serve ye; I am much indebted to ye
 For dancing me off my legs; and then for walking me;
 For telling me strange tales I never heard of,
 More to abuse me; for mistaking me,
 When ye both knew I was a Gentleman,
 And one deserv'd as rich a match as you are.
Lil. Be not so bitter, Sir.
Pi. You see this Lady:
 She is young enough, and fair enough to please me,
 A woman of a loving mind, a quiet,
 And one that weighs the worth of him that loves her,
 I am content with this, and bless my fortune,
 Your curious Wits, and Beauties.
Lil. Faith see me once more.
Pi. I dare not trouble ye.
Lil. May I speak to your Lady?
Pi. I pray ye content your self: I know ye are bitter,
 And in your bitterness, ye may abuse her;
 Which if she comes to know, (for she understands ye not)
 It may breed such a quarrel to your kindred,
 And such an indiscretion fling on you too;
 For she is nobly friended.
Lil. I could eat her.
Pi. Rest as ye are, a modest noble Gentlewoman,
 And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers. [Exit.
Mir. What think you now?
Lil. Faith she's a pretty Whiting;
 She has got a pretty catch too.
Mir. You are angry;
 Monstrous angry now; grievously angry;
 And the pretty heart does swell now.
Lil. No in troth, Sir.
Mir. And it will cry anon; a pox upon it:
 And it will curse it self: and eat no meat, Lady;
 And it will fight.
Lil. Indeed you are mistaken;
 It will be very merry.
Ros. Why, Sir, do you think
 There are no more men living, nor no handsomer
 Than he, or you, By this light there be ten thousand?
 Ten thousand thousand: comfort your self, dear Monsieur,
 Faces, and bodies, Wits, and all Abiliments
 There are so many we regard 'em not.

Enter Belleur, and two Gentlemen.

Mir. That such a noble Lady, I could burst now,
 So far above such trifles?
Bel. You did laugh at me,
 And I know why ye laughed.
1 Gent. I pray ye be satisfied;
 If we did laugh, we had some private reason,
 And not at you.
2 Gent. Alas, we know you not, Sir.
Bel. I'le make you know me; set your faces soberly;
 Stand this way, and look sad; I'le be no May-game;
 Sadder; demurer yet.
Ros. What's the matter?
 What ails this Gentleman?
Bel. Go off now backward, that I may behold ye;
 And not a simper on your lives.
Lil. He's mad sure.
Bel. Do you observe me too?
Mir. I may look on ye.
Bel. Why do you grin? I know your minde.
Mir. You do not,
 You are strangely humorous: is there no mirth, nor pleasure,
 But you must be the object?
Bel. Mark, and observe me;
 Where ever I am nam'd;
 The very word shall raise a general sadness,
 For the disgrace this scurvy woman did me;
 This proud pert thing; take heed ye laugh not at me;
 Provoke me not, take heed.
Ros. I would fain please ye;
 Do any thing to keep ye quiet.
Bel. Hear me,
 Till I receive a satisfaction
 Equal to the disgrace, and scorn ye gave me:
 Ye are a wretched woman; till thou woo'st me,
 And I scorn thee asmuch, as seriously
 Jear, and abuse thee; ask what Gill thou art;
 Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee;
 I will so sing thy vertue; so be-paint thee.
Ros. Nay, good Sir, be more modest.
Bel. Do you laugh again?
 Because ye are a woman ye are lawless,
 And out of compass of an honest anger.
Ros. Good Sir, have a better belief of me.
Lil. Away dear Sister. [Exit.
Mir. Is not this better now, this seeming madness,
 Than falling out with your friends?
Bel. Have I not frighted her?
Mir. Into her right wits, I warrant thee: follow this humor,
 And thou shalt see how prosperously 'twill guide thee.
Bel. I am glad I have found a way to woo yet, I was afraid once
 I never should have made a civil Suiter.
 Well, I'le about it still. [Exit.
Mir. Do, do, and prosper.
 What sport do I make with these fools! What pleasure
 Feeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence!

Enter Leverduce, alias Lugier, Mr. Illiard.

Wooing and wiving, hang it: give me mirth,
 Witty and dainty mirth: I shall grow in love sure
 With mine own happy head. Who's this? To me, Sir?
 What youth is this?
Lev. Yes, Sir, I would speak with you,
 If your name be Monsieur Mirabel.
Mir. Ye have hit it,
 Your business, I beseech ye?
Lev. This it is, Sir,
 There is a Gentlewoman hath long time affected ye,
 And lov'd ye dearly.
Mir. Turn over, and end that story,
 'Tis long enough: I have no faith in women, Sir.
Lev. It seems so, Sir: I do not come to woo for her,
 Or sing her praises, though she well deserve 'em,
 I come to tell ye, ye have been cruel to her,
 Unkind and cruel, falser of faith, and careless,
 Taking more pleasure in abusing her,
 Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,
 Than noble in requiting her affection:
 Which, as ye are a man, I must desire ye
 (A Gentleman of rank) not to persist in,
 No more to load her fair name with your injuries.
Mir. Why, I beseech ye, Sir?
Lev. Good Sir, I'le tell ye,
 And I'le be short: I'le tell ye, because I love ye,
 Because I would have you shun the shame may follow:
 There is a noble man, new come to Town, Sir,
 A noble and a great man that affects her,
 A Cou[n]trey-man of mine, a brave Savoyan,
 Nephew to th'Duke, and so much honours her,
 That 'twill be dangerous to pursue your old way,
 To touch at any thing concerns her honour,
 Believe, most dangerous: her name is Oriana,
 And this great man will marry her: take heed, Sir;
 For howsoe'r her Brother, a staid Gentleman,
 Lets things pass upon better hopes, this Lord, Sir,
 Is of that fiery, and that poynant metal,
 (Especially provok'd on by affection)
 That 'twill be hard: but you are wise.
Mir. A Lord, Sir?
Lev. Yes, and a noble Lord.
Mir. 'Send her good fortune,
 This will not stir her Lord; a Barronness,
 Say ye so; say ye so? by'r Lady, a brave title;
 Top, and top gallant now; 'save her great Ladiship.
 I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, Sir,
 And in those daies, I thought I might be jovy,
 And make a little bold to call into her:
 But Basto, now; I know my rules and distance;
 Yet, if she want an Usher; such an implement;
 One that is throughly pac'd; a clean made Gentleman;
 Can hold a hanging up; with approbation
 Plant his hat formally, and wait with patience
 I do beseech you, Sir.
Lev. Sir, leave your scoffing;
 And as ye are a Gentleman, deal fairly:
 I have given ye a friends counsel, so I'le leave ye.
Mir. But hark ye, hark ye, Sir; is't possible
 I may believe what you say?
Lev. You may chuse, Sir.
Mir. No Baits? No Fish-hooks, Sir? No Gins? No Nooses?
 No Pitfals to catch Puppies?
Lev. I tell ye certain;
 You may believe; if not, stand to the danger. [Exeunt.
Mir. A Lord of Savoy saies he? The Dukes Nephew?
 A man so mighty? By 'Lady a fair marriage;
 By my faith, a handsom fortune: I must leave prating;
 For to confess the truth, I have abused her,
 For which I should be sorry, but that will seem scurvy;
 I must confess, she was ever since I knew her
 As modest, as she was fair: I am sure she lov'd me;
 Her means good; and her breeding excellent;
 And for my sake she has refus'd fair matches:
 I may play the fool finely. Stay who are these?

Enter De-Gard, Oriana, and Attendants.

'Tis she, I am sure; and that the Lord it should seem,
 He carries a fair Port; is a handsom man too:
 I do begin to feel, I am a Coxcomb.
Ori. Good my Lord, chuse a nobler: for I know
 I am so far below your rank and honour,
 That what ye can say this way, I must credit
 But spoken to beget your self sport: Alas, Sir,
 I am so far off from deserving you,
 My beauty so unfit for your Affection,
 That I am grown the scorn of common Railers,
 Of such injurious things, that when they cannot
 Reach at my person, lie with my reputation:
 I am poor besides.
de-Ga. Ye are all wealth and goodness;
 And none but such as are the scum of men,
 The Ulcers of an honest state; Spight-weavers,
 That live on poyson only, like swoln spiders,
 Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.
Mir. This man speaks loud indeed.
de-Ga. Name but the men, Lady;
 Let me but know these poor, and base depravers;
 Lay but to my revenge their persons open,
 And you shall see how suddenly, how fully
 For your most beauteous sake, how direfully
 I'le handle their despights. Is this thing one?
 Be what he will.
Mir. Sir.
de-Ga. Dare your malicious tongue, Sir?
Mir. I know you not; nor what you mean.
Ori. Good my Lord.
de-Ga. If he, or any he.
Ori. I beseech your honour.
 This Gentleman's a stranger to my knowledge,
 And no doubt, Sir, a worthy man.
de-Ga. Your mercy;
 But had he been a tainter of your honour;
 A blaster of those beauties raign within ye;
 But we shall find a fitter time: dear Lady,
 As soon as I have freed ye from your Guardian,
 And done some honour'd offices unto ye,
 I'le take ye with those faults the world flings on ye;
 And dearer than the whole world I'le esteem ye. [Exeunt.
Mir. This is a thundring Lord; I am glad I scap'd him:
 How lovingly the wench disclaim'd my villany!
 I am vext now heartily that he shall have her;
 Not that I care to marry, or to lose her;
 But that this Bilbo-Lord shall reap that Maiden-head
 That was my due; that he shall rig and top her;
 I'de give a thousand Crowns now, he might miss her.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel,
 You have good luck, Sir; I'le teach ye to strike lighter.
Mir. Come hither, honest fellow; canst thou tell me
 Where this great Lord lies? This Savoy Lord? Thou met'st him;
 He now went by thee certain.
Ser. Yes, he did, Sir;
 I know him; and I know you are fool'd.
Mir. Come hither,
 Here's all this, give me truth.
S[e]r. Not for your mony;
 (And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten:
 And by the worshipfull Contrivers beaten, and I'le tell ye;
 This is no Lord, no Savoy Lord.
Mir. Go forward.
Ser. This is a Trick, and put upon ye grosly
 By one Lugier; the Lord is Monsieur de-Gard, Sir;
 An honest Gentleman, and a neighbour here;
 Their ends you understand better than I, sure.
Mir. Now I know him.
 Know him now plain.
Ser. I have discharg'd my colours; so God b'y ye, sir. [Exit.
Mir. What a purblinde Puppy was I; now I remember him.
 All the whole cast on's face, though 'twere umber'd,
 And mask'd with patches: what a dunder-whelp
 To let him domineer thus: how he strutted,
 And what a load of Lord he clapt upon him!
 Would I had him here again, I would so bounce him,
 I would so thank his Lordship for his lewd plot:
 Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird-pots,
 And a pair of pin-buttockt breeches? Ha! 'Tis he again.
 He comes, he comes, he comes; have at him.

Enter de-Gard, Oriana, &c.

Sings. My Savoy Lord, why dost thou frown on me?
 And will that favour never sweeter be?
 Wilt thou I say, for ever play the fool?
 de-Gard be wise, and Savoy go to School.
 My Lord de-Gard, I thank ye for your Antick;
 My Lady bright, that will be sometimes Frantick;
 You worthy Train, that wait upon this Pair,
 'Send you more wit, and they a bouncing Baire
 And so I take my humble leave of your honours. [Exit.
de-Ga. We are discover'd, there's no remedy
 Lilia Biancha's man upon my life,
 In stubbornness, because Lugier corrected him.
 (A shameless slaves plague on him for a Rascal.)
Ori. I was in a perfect hope; the bane on't is now,
 He will make mirth on mirth, to persecute us.
de-Ga. We must be patient; I am vext to the proof too,
 I'le try once more; then if I fail: Here's one speaks.
Ori. Let me be lost, and scorn'd first.
de-Ga. Well, we'll consider,
 Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else. [Exeunt.

Enter Lugier, Lilia, Servants.

Lug. Faint not; but do as I direct ye, trust me;
 Believe me too, for what I have told ye, Lady,
 As true as you are Lilia, is Authentick;
 I know it; I have found it; 'tis a poor courage
 Flies off for one repulse; these Travellers
 Shall find before we have done, a home-spun wit,
 A plain French understanding may cope with 'em;
 They have had the better yet, thank your sweet Squire, here;
 And let 'em brag: you would be reveng'd?
Lil. Yes surely.
Lug. And married too?
Lil. I think so.
Lug. Then be Counsel'd,
 You know how to proceed: I have other Irons
 Heating as well as yours: and I will strike
 Three blows with one Stone home, be rul'd, and happie;
 And so I leave ye. Now is the time.
Lil. I am ready,
 If he do come to do me.
Ser. Will ye stand here,
 And let the people think, ye are God knows what Mistris?
 Let Boys, and Prentices presume upon ye?
Lil. Pre'thee hold thy peace.
Ser. Stand at his dore, that hates ye?
Lil. Pre'thee leave prating.
S[e]r. 'Pray ye go to th' Tavern. I'le give ye a Pint of wine there,
 If any of the Mad-cap Gentlemen should come by
 That take up women upon speciall warrant,
 You were in a wise case now.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Mariana, Priest, Attendants.

Lil. Give me the Garland,
 And wait you here.
Mir. She is here to seek thee, Sirrah.
 I told thee what would follow; she is mad for thee;
 Shew, and advance. So early stirring Lady?
 It shews a busie mind, a fancie troubled:
 A willow Garland too? Is't possible?
 'Tis pity so much beautie should lie mustie,
 But 'tis not to be help'd now.
Lil. The more's my Miserie.
 Good fortune to ye, Ladie, you deserve it:
 To me, too late Repentance; I have sought it:
 I do not envy, though I grieve a little,
 You are Mistris of that happiness, those Joyes
 That might have been, had I been wise: but fortune.
Pi. She understands ye not, 'pray ye do not trouble her;
 And do not cross me like a Hare thus, 'tis as ominous.
Lil. I come not to upbraid your Levitie
 Though ye made shew of Love, and though I lik'd ye
 To claim an interest; we are yet both Strangers,
 But what we might have been, had you persever'd, Sir,
 To be an eye-sore to your loving Lady;
 This garland shews, I give my self forsaken;
 (Yet she must pardon me, 'tis most unwillingly:)
 And all the power and interest I had in ye;
 As I perswade my self, somewhat ye lov'd me;
 Thus patiently I render up, I offer
 To her that must enjoy ye: and so bless ye;
 Only, I heartily desire this Courtesie,
 And would not be deni'd: to wait upon ye
 This day, to see ye ty'd, then no more trouble ye.
Pi. It needs not, Ladie.
Lil. Good Sir, grant me so much.
Pi. 'Tis private, and we make no invitation.
Lil. My presence, Sir, shall not proclaim it publick.
Pi. May be 'tis not in Town.
Lil. I have a Coach, Sir,
 And a most ready will to do you service.
Mir. Strike now or never; make it sure: I tell thee,
 She will hang her self, if she have thee not.
Pi. 'Pray ye, Sir,
 Entertain my noble Mistris: only a word or two
 With this importunate woman, and I'le relieve ye.
 Now ye see what your flings are, and your fancies,
 Your states, and your wild stubborness, now ye [fi]nd
 What 'tis to gird and kick at mens fair services,
 To raise your pride to such a pitch, and glory
 That goodness shews like gnats, scorn'd under ye,
 'Tis ugly, naught, a self will in a woman,
 Chain'd to an over-weening thought, is pestilent,
 Murthers fair fortune first; then fair opinion:
 There stands a Pattern, a true patient Pattern,
 Humble, and sweet.
Lil. I can but grieve my ignorance,
 Repentance some say too, is the best sacrifice;
 For sure, Sir, if my chance had been so happy,
 (As I confess I was mine own destroyer)
 As to have arrived at you; I will not prophesie,
 But certain, as I think, I should have pleas'd ye;
 Have made ye as much wonder at my courtesie,
 My love, and duty, as I have dishearten'd ye,
 Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;
 And being free-born Maids, we take a liberty,
 And to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly.
Pi. Now ye talk reason.
Lil. But being yoak'd, and govern'd,
 Married, and those light vanities purg'd from us;
 How fair we grow, how gentle, and how tender,
 We twine about those loves that shoot-up with us!
 A sullen woman fear, that talks not to ye;
 She has a sad and darkn'd soul, loves dully:
 A merry and a free wench, give her liberty;
 Believe her in the lightest form she appears to ye,
 Believe her excellent, though she despise ye,
 Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will shew to ye;
 As Jewels rub'd from dust, or Gold new burnish'd:
 Such had I been, had you believ'd.
Pi. Is't possible?
Lil. And to your happiness, I dare assure ye
 If True love be accounted so; your pleasure,
 Your will, and your command had tyed my Motions:
 But that hope's gone; I know you are young, and giddy,
 And till you have a Wife can govern with ye,
 You sail upon this wo[r]ld-Sea, light and empty;
 Your Bark in danger daily; 'tis not the name neither
 Of Wife can steer ye; but the noble nature,
 The diligence, the care, the love, the patience,
 She makes the Pilot, and preserves the Husband,
 That knows, and reckons every Rib he is built on;
 But this I tell ye, to my shame.
Pin. I admire ye,
 And now am sorry, that I aim beyond ye.
Mir. So, so, so, fair and softly. She is thine own, Boy,
 She comes now, without Lure.
Pin. But that it must needs
 Be reckon'd to me as a wantonness,
 Or worse, a madness, to forsake a Blessing,
 A Blessing of that hope.
Lil. I dare not urge ye,
 And yet, dear Sir.
Pin. 'Tis most certain, I had rather,
 If 'twere in my own choice, for you are my country-woman,
 A Neighbour, here born by me, she a Stranger;
 And who knows how her friends?
Lil. Do as you please, Sir,
 If ye be fast; not all the World; I love ye,
 'Tis most true, and clear, I would perswade ye;
 And I shall love you still.
Pin. Go, get before me;
 So much you have won upon me; do it presently:
 Here's a Priest ready; I'll have you.
Lil. Not now, Sir,
 No, you shall pardon me; advance your Lady,
 I dare not hinder your most high Preferment,
 'Tis honour enough for me I have unmask'd ye.
Pin. How's that?
Lil. I have caught ye, Sir, alas, I am no States-woman,
 Nor no great Traveller, yet I have found ye,
 I have found your Lady too, your beauteous Lady;
 I have found her birth and breeding too, her discipline;
 Who brought her over, and who kept your Lady;
 And when he laid her by, what vertuous Nunnery
 Receiv'd her in; I have found all these: are ye blank now?
 Methinks such travel'd wisdoms should not fool thus;
 Such excellent indiscretions.
Mir. How could she know this?
Lil. 'Tis true, she's English born, but most part French now,
 And so I hope you'll find her, to your comfort,
 Alas, I am ignorant of what she cost ye;
 The price of these hired cloaths I do not know Gentlemen;
 Those Jewels are the Brokers, how ye stand bound for 'em.
Pin. Will you make this good?
Lil. Yes, yes, and to her face, Sir,
 That she is an Engl[i]sh Whore, a kind of fling dust,
 One of your London Light o' Loves; a right one,
 Came over in thin Pumps, and half a Petticoat,
 One Faith, and one Smock, with a broken Haberdasher;
 I know all this without a Conjurer;
 Her name is jumping-Joan, an ancient Sin-Weaver;
 She was first a Ladies Chamber-maid, there slip'd
 And broke her leg above the knee; departed
 And set up shop her self. Stood the fierce Conflicts
 Of many a furious Term; there lost her colours,
 And last ship'd over hither.
Mir. We are betray'd.
Lil. Do you come to fright me with this mystery?
 To stir me with a stink none can endure, Sir?
 I pray ye proceed, the Wedding will become ye;
 Who gives the Lady? you? an excellent Father;
 A careful man, and one that knows a Beauty,
 'Send ye fair Shipping, Sir, and so I'll leave ye,
 Be wise and manly, then I may chance to love ye. [Exit.
Mir. As I live I am asham'd, this wench has reach'd me,
 Monstrous asham'd, but there's no remedy,
 This skew'd eye'd Carrion.
Pin. This I suspected ever,
 Come, come, uncase, we have no more use of ye;
 Your Cloaths must back again.
Mar. Sir, ye shall pardon me;
 'Tis not our English use to be degraded;
 If you will visit me, and take your venture,
 You shall have pleasure for your properties;
 And so sweet heart.
Mir. Let her go, and the Devil go with her;
 We have never better luck with these preludiums;
 Come, be not daunted; think she is but a woman,
 And let her have the Devils wit, we'll reach her. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Rosalure, and Lugier.

Ros. Ye have now redeem'd my good opinion, Tutor,
 And ye stand fair again.
Lug. I can but labour,
 And sweat in your affairs; I am sure Belleur
 Will be here instantly, and use his anger,
 His wonted harshness.
Ros. I hope he will not beat me.
Lug. No sure, he has more manners; be you ready.
Ros. Yes, yes, I am, and am resolv'd to fit him,
 With patience to outdo all he can offer;
 But how does Oriana?
Lug. Worse, and worse still;
 There is a sad house for her: she is now,
 Poor Lady, utterly distracted.
Ros. Pity!
 Infinite pity! 'tis a handsome Lady,
 That Mirabel's a Beast, worse than a Monster,
 If this affliction work not.

Enter Lilia Biancha.

Lil. Are ye ready?
 Belleur is coming on, here, hard behind me,
 I have no leisure to relate my Fortune.
 Only I wish you may come off as handsomely,
 Upon the sign you know what. [Exit.
Ros. Well, well, leave me.

Enter Belleur.

Bel. How now?
Ros. Ye are welcome, Sir.
Bel. 'Tis well ye have manners:
 That Court'sie again, and hold your Countenance stai'dly;
 That look's too light; take heed: so, sit ye down now,
 And to confirm me that your Gall is gone,
 Your bitterness dispers'd, for so I'll have it:
 Look on me stedfastly, and whatsoe'r I say unto ye,
 Move not, nor alter in your face, ye are gone then:
 For if you do express the least distaste,
 Or shew an angry wrinkle, mark me, woman,
 We are now alone, I will so conjure thee;
 The third part of my Execution
 Cannot be spoke.
Ros. I am at your dispose, Sir.
Bel. Now rise, and woo me a little, let me hear that faculty:
 But touch me not, nor do not lie I charge ye.
 Begin now.
Ros. If so mean and poor a Beauty
 May ever hope the Grace.
Bel. Ye cog, ye flatter,
 Like a lewd thing ye lie: may hope that grace?
 Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not,
 For if thou dost, and liest again I'll swindge thee:
 Do not I know thee for a pestilent Woman?
 A proud at both ends? Be not angry,
 Nor stir not o' your life.
Ros. I am counsell'd, Sir.
Bel. Art thou not now (confess, for I'll have the truth out)
 As much unworthy of a man of merit,
 Or any of ye all? Nay, of meer man?
 Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him:
 Nay, of any dishonest thing that bears that figure:
 As Devils are of mercy?
Ros. We are unworthy.
Bel. Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee.
 And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
 That we are troubled, vex'd, or tortur'd with ye?
 Our meer and special bounty?
Ros. Yes.
Bel. Our pity,
 That for your wickedness we swindge ye soundly;
 Your stubbornness, and your stout hearts, we be-labour ye,
 Answer to that.
Ros. I do confess your pity.
Bel. And dost not thou deserve in thine own person?
 (Thou Impudent, thou Pert; do not change countenance.)
Ros. I dare not, Sir.
Bel. For if ye do.
Ros. I am setled.
Bel. Thou Wag-tail, Peacock, Puppy, look on me:
 I am a Gentleman.
Ros. It seems no less, Sir.
Bel. And darest thou in thy Surquedry?
Ros. I beseech ye;
 It was my weakness, Sir, I did not view ye,
 I took no notice of your noble parts,
 Nor call'd your person, nor your proper fashion.
Bel. This is some amends yet.
Ros. I shall mend, Sir, daily,
 And study to deserve.
Bel. Come a little nearer;
 Canst thou repent thy villainy?
Ros. Most seriously.
Bel. And be asham'd?
Ros. I am asham'd.
Bel. Cry.
Ros. It will be hard to do, Sir.
Bel. Cry instantly;
 Cry monstrously, that all the Town may hear thee;
 Cry seriously, as if thou hadst lost thy Monkey;
 And as I like thy tears.

Enter Lilia, and four Women laughing.

Ros. Now.
Bel. How? how? do ye jear me?
 Have ye broke your bounds again, Dame?
Ros. Yes, and laugh at ye,
 And laugh most heartily.
Bel. What are these, Whirl-winds?
 Is Hell broke loose, and all the Furies flutter'd?
 Am I greas'd once again?
Ros. Yes indeed are ye;
 And once again ye shall be, if ye quarrel;
 Do you come to vent your fury on a Virgin?
 Is this your Manhood, Sir?
1 Wom. Let him do his best,
 Let's see the utmost of his indignation,
 I long to see him angry; Come, proceed, Sir.
 Hang him, he dares not stir, a man of Timber.
2 Wom. Come hither to fright maids with thy Bul-faces?
 To threaten Gentlewomen? Thou a man? A May-pole,
 A great dry Pudding.
[3] Wom. Come, come, do your worst, Sir;
 Be angry if thou darst.
Bel. The Lord deliver me!
4 Wom. Do but look scurvily upon this Lady,
 Or give us one foul word. We are all mistaken,
 This is some mighty Dairy-maid in Mans Cloaths.
Lil. I am of that mind too.
Bel. What will they do to me!
Lil. And hired to come and abuse us; a man has manners;
 A Gentleman, Civility, and Breeding:
 Some Tinkers Trull, with a Beard glew'd on.
1 Wom. Let's search him;
 And as we find him.
Bel. Let me but depart from ye,
 Sweet Christian-women.
Lil. Hear the Thing speak, Neighbours.
Bel. 'Tis but a small request; if e'r I trouble ye,
 If e'r I talk again of beating Women,
 Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;
 Of ever thinking of a handsome Lady
 But vertuously and well; of ever speaking
 But to her honour; This I'll promise ye,
 I will take Rhubarb, and purge Choler mainly,
 Abundantly I'll purge.
Lil. I'll send ye Broths, Sir.
Bel. I will be laugh'd at, and endure it patiently,
 I will do any thing.
Ros. I'll be your Bayl then;
 When ye come next to woo, 'pray come not boisterously,
 And furnish'd like a Bear-ward.
Bel. No in truth, forsooth.
Ros. I scented ye long since.
Bel. I was to blame sure,
 I will appear a Gentleman.
Ros. 'Tis the best for ye,
 For a true noble Gentleman's a brave thing;
 Upon that hope we quit ye. You fear seriously?
Bel. Yes truly do I; I confess I fear ye,
 And honour ye, and any thing.
Ros. Farewel then.
Wom. And when ye come to woo next bring more mercy.

[Exeunt.

Enter two Gentlemen.

Bel. A Dairy-maid! a Tinkers-Trull! Heaven bless me!
 Sure if I had provok'd 'em, they had quarter'd me.
 I am a most ridiculous Ass, now I perceive it:
 A Coward, and a Knave too.
1 Gent. 'Tis the mad Gentleman:
 Let's set our Faces right.
Bel. No, no, laugh at me;
 And laugh aloud.
2 Gent. We are better manner'd, Sir.
Bel. I do deserve it; call me Patch, and Puppy,
 And beat me if you please.
1 Gent. No indeed, we know ye.
Bel. 'Death, do as I would have ye.
2 Gent. You are an Ass then;
 A Coxcomb, and a Calf.
Bel. I am a great Calf;
 Kick me a little now: Why, when? Sufficient:
 Now laugh aloud, and scorn me; so good b'ye;
 And ever when ye meet me laugh.
1 Gent. We will, Sir. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Nantolet, La-Castre, De-Gard, Lugier, Mirabel.

Mir. Your patience, Gentlemen: why do ye bait me?
Nan. Is't not a shame you are so stubborn hearted,
 So stony and so dull to such a Lady,
 Of her Perfections, and her Misery?
Lug. Does she not love ye? does not her distraction
 For your sake only, her most pitied lunacie
 Of all but you, shew ye? does it not compel ye?
Mir. Soft and fair, Gentlemen, pray ye proceed temperately.
Lug. If ye have any feeling, any sense in ye,
 The least touch of a noble heart.
La Cas. Let him alone;
 It is his glory that he can kill Beauty,
 Ye bear my Stamp, but not my Tenderness;
 Your wild unsavoury Courses set that in ye!
 For shame, be sorry, though ye cannot cure her,
 Shew something of a Man, of a fair Nature.
Mir. Ye make me mad.
De-Gard. Let me pronounce this to ye,
 You take a strange felicity in slighting
 And wronging Women, which my poor Sister feels now,
 Heavens hand be gentle on her: Mark me, Sir,
 That very hour she dies, there's small hope otherwise,
 That minute you and I must grapple for it,
 Either your life or mine.
Mir. Be not so hot, Sir,
 I am not to be wrought on by these policies,
 In truth I am not; Nor do I fear the tricks,
 Or the high sounding threats of a Savoyan;
 I glory not in Cruelty, ye wrong me;
 Nor grow up water'd with the tears of Women;
 This let me tell ye, howsoe'r I shew to ye,
 Wild, as ye please to call it, or self-will'd;
 When I see cause I can both do and suffer,
 Freely, and feelingly, as a true Gentleman.

Enter Rosalure, and Lilia.

Ros. O pity, pity, thousand, thousand pities!
Lil. Alas poor Soul! she will dye; she is grown sensless;
 She will not know, nor speak now.
Ros. Dye for love!
 And love of such a Youth! I would dye for a Dog first,
 He that kills me I'll give him leave to eat me;
 I'll know men better ere I sigh for any of 'em.
Lil. Ye have done a worthy act, Sir; a most famous;
 Ye have kill'd a Maid the wrong way, ye are a conqueror.
Ros. A Conquerour? a Cobler; hang him Sowter;
 Go hide thy self for shame, go lose thy memory;
 Live not 'mongst Men; thou art a Beast, a Monster;
 A Blatant Beast.
Lil. If ye have yet any honesty,
 Or ever heard of any; take my Counsel;
 Off with your Garters: and seek out a Bough,
 A handsom Bough; (for I would have ye hang like a Gentleman;)
 And write some doleful matter to the World,
 A Warning to hard hearted men.
Mir. Out Kitlings:
 What Catterwauling's here? what Gibbing?
 Do you think my heart is softned with a black Santis?
 Shew me some reason.

Enter Oriana on a Bed.

Ros. Here then, here is a reason.
Nant. Now, if ye be a man, let this sight shake ye.
La-C. Alas poor Gentlewoman! do you know me, Lady?
Lug. How she looks up, and stares!
Ori. I know ye very well;
 You are my Godfather; and that's the Monsieur.
De-Gar. And who am I?
Ori. You are Amadis de Gaul, Sir.
 Oh oh, my heart! were ye never in love, sweet Lady?
 And do you never dream of Flowers and Gardens?
 I dream of walking Fires; take heed, it comes now;
 Who's that? pray stand away; I have seen that face sure;
 How light my head is!
Ros. Take some rest.
Ori. I cannot,
 For I must be up to morrow to go to Church,
 And I must dress me, put my new Gown on,
 And be as fine to meet my Love: Heigh ho!
 Will not you tell me where my Love lies buried?
Mir. He is not dead: beshrew my heart, she stirs me.
Ori. He is dead to me.
Mir. Is't possible my Nature
 Should be so damnable, to let her suffer?
 Give me your hand.
Ori. How soft you feel, how gentle!
 I'll tell you your fortune, Friend.
Mir. How she stares on me!
Or. You have a flattering face, but 'tis a fine one;
 I warrant you may have a hundred Sweet-hearts;
 Will ye pray for me? I shall dye to morrow,
 And will ye ring the Bells?
Mir. I am most unworthy,
 I do confess, unhappy; do you know me?
Ori. I would I did.
Mir. Oh fair tears, how ye take me!
Ori. Do you weep too? you have not lost your Lover;
 You mock me; I'l go home, and pray.
Mir. 'Pray ye pardon me:
 Or if it please ye to consider justly,
 Scorn me, for I deserve it: Scorn, and shame me:
 Sweet Oriana.
Lil. Let her alone, she trembles;
 Her fits will grow more strong if ye provoke her.
La Cas. Certain she knows ye not, yet loves to see ye:
 How she smiles now!

[Enter Belleur.]

Bel. Where are ye? Oh, why do [not] you laugh? come, laugh at me;
 What a Devil! art thou sad, and such a subject,
 Such a ridiculous subject as I am
 Before thy face?
Mir. Prithee put off this lightness;
 This is no time for mirth, nor place; I have us'd too much on't:
 I have undone my self, and a sweet Lady,
 By being too indulgent to my foolery,
 Which truly I repent; look here.
Bel. What ails she?
Mir. Alas, she's mad.
Bel. Mad?
Mir. Yes, too sure for me too.
Bel. Dost thou wonder at that? by this [good] light they are all so;
 They are coz'ning mad, they are brawling mad, they are proud mad:
 They are all, all mad; I came from a World of mad Women.
 Mad as March-Hares; get 'em in Chains, then deal with 'em.
 There's one that's mad; she seems well, but she is dog-mad.
 Is she dead dost' think?
Mi[r]. Dead! Heaven forbid.
Bel. Heaven further it;
 For till they be key cold dead, there's no trusting of 'em,
 Whate'r they seem, or howsoe'r they carry it,
 Till they be chap-faln, and their Tongues at peace,
 Nail'd in their Coffins sure, I'll ne'r believe 'em,
 Shall I talk with her?
Mir. No, dear friend, be quiet,
 And be at peace a while.
Bel. I'll walk aside,
 And come again anon: but take heed to her,
 You say she is a Woman?
Mir. Yes.
Bel. Take great heed:
 For if she do not cozen thee, then hang me.
 Let her be mad, or what she will, she'll cheat thee. [Exit.
Mir. Away, wild Fool: how vile this shews in him now!
 Now take my faith, before ye all I speak it,
 And with it, my repentant love.
La-C. This seems well.
Mir. Were but this Lady clear again, whose sorrows
 My very heart melts for; were she but perfect
 (For thus to marry her would be two miseries,)
 Before the richest and the noblest Beauty,
 France, or the World could shew me; I would take her
 As she is now, my Tears and Prayers shall wed her.
De-Gar. This makes some small amends.
Ros. She beckons to ye,
 To us too, to go off.
Nant. Let's draw aside all.
Ori. Oh my best friend; I would fain.
Mir. What? she speaks well,
 And with another voice.
Ori. But I am fearful,
 And shame a little stops my tongue.
Mir. Speak boldly.
Ori. Tell ye, I am well, I am perfect well: 'pray ye mock not;
 And that I did this to provoke your Nature,
 Out of my infinite and restless love,
 To win your pity; pardon me.
Mir. Go forward;
 Who set ye on?
Ori. None, as I live, no Creature;
 Not any knew, or ever dream'd what I meant;
 Will ye be mine?
Mir. 'Tis true, I pity ye:
 But when I marry ye, ye must be wiser:
 Nothing but Tricks? Devices?
Ori. Will ye shame me?
Mir. Yes, marry will I: Come near, come near, a miracle;
 The Woman's well; she was only mad for Marriage,
 Stark mad to be ston'd to death; give her good counsel,
 Will this world never mend? are ye caught, Damsel?

Enter Belleur, La-Castre, Lugier, Nantolet, De Gard, Rosalure, and Bianca.

Bel. How goes it now?
Mir. Thou art a kind of Prophet,
 The Woman's well again, and would have gull'd me;
 Well, excellent well: and not a taint upon her.
Bel. Did not I tell ye? Let 'em be what can be;
 Saints, Devils, any thing, they will abuse us;
 Thou wert an Ass to believe her so long, a Coxcomb;
 Give 'em a minute they'll abuse whole millions.
Mir. And am not I a rare Physician, Gentlemen,
 That can cure desperate mad minds?
De Gar. Be not insolent.
Mir. Well, go thy waies: from this hour, I disclaim thee,
 Unless thou hast a trick above this: then I'le love thee.
 Ye owe me for your Cure; pray have a care of her,
 For fear she fall into Relapse: come Belleur
 We'll set up Bills, to Cure Diseased Virgins.
Bel. Shall we be merry?
Mir. Yes.
Bel. But I'le no more projects;
 If we could make 'em mad, it were some mastery. [Exeunt.
Lil. I am glad she is well again.
Ros. So am I, certain,
 Be not ashamed.
Oria. I shall never see a man more.
De Gar. Come ye are a fool: had ye but told me this trick,
 He should not have gloried thus.
Lug. He shall not long neither.
La-C. Be rul'd, and be at peace: ye have my consent,
 And what power I can work with.
Nant. Come, leave blushing;
 We are your friends; an honest way compell'd ye;
 Heaven will not see so true a love unrecompenc'd;
 Come in, and slight him too.
Lug. The next shall hit him. [Exeunt.

Enter De Gard, and Lugier.

De G. 'T will be discover'd.
Lug. That's the worst can happen:
 If there be any way to reach, and work upon him;
 Upon his nature suddenly, and catch him: that he loves,
 Though he dissemble it, and would shew contrary,
 And will at length relent, I'le lay my Fortune,
 Nay more, my life.
De G. Is she won?
Lug. Yes, and ready,
 And my designments set.
De G. They are now for Travel,
 All for that Game again: they have forgot wooing.
Lug. Let 'em; we'll travel with 'em.
De G. Where's his Father?
Lug. Within; he knows my mind too and allows it;
 Pities your Sisters Fortune most sincerely;
 And has appointed, for our more assistance,
 Some of his secret Friends.
De G. 'Speed the Plough.
Lug. Well said;
 And be you serious too.
De G. I shall be diligent.
Lug. Let's break the Ice for one, the rest will drink too
 (Believe me, Sir) of the same Cup; my young Gentlewomen
 Wait but who sets the game a foot; though they seem stubborn,
 Reserv'd, and proud now, yet I know their hearts,
 Their Pulses how they beat, and for what cause, Sir;
 And how they long to venture their Abilities
 In a true Quarrel; Husbands they must, and will have,
 Or Nunneries, and thin Collations
 To cool their bloods; let's all about our business,
 And if this fail, let Nature work.
De G. Ye have arm'd me. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Mirabel, Nantolet, and La-Castre.

La-Cast. Will ye be wilful then?
Mir. 'Pray, Sir, your pardon,
 For I must Travel: lie lazy here,
 Bound to a Wife? Chain'd to her subtleties,
 Her humours, and her wills, which are meer Fetters;
 To have her to day pleas'd, to morrow peevish,
 The third day mad, the fourth rebellious?
 You see, before they are married, what Moriscoes,
 What Masques, and Mummeries they put upon us,
 To be ty'd here, and suffer their Lavalto's?
Nan. 'Tis your own seeking.
Mir. Yes, to get my freedom;
 Were they as I could wish 'em.
La-Cast. Fools, and Meacocks,
 To endure what you think fit to put upon 'em:
 Come, change your mind.
Mir. Not before I have chang'd Air, Father.
 When I know Women worthy of my company,
 I will return again and wait upon 'em;
 Till then (dear Sir) I'le amble all the world over,
 And run all hazards, misery, and poverty,

Enter Pinac, and Belleur.

So I escape the dangerous Bay of Matrimony.
Pin. Are ye resolv'd?
Mir. Yes certain; I will out again.
Pin. We are for ye, Sir; we are your servants once more;
 Once more we'll seek our fortune in strange Countries;
 Ours is too scornful for us.
Bel. Is there ne're a Land
 That ye have read, or heard of, (for I care not how far it be,
 Nor under what pestiferous Star it lies)
 A happy Kingdom where there are no Women?
 Nor have been ever? Nor no mention
 Of any such lewd things, with lewder qualities?
 For thither would I Travel; where 'tis Felony
 To confess he had a Mother: a Mistris, Treason.
La-Cast. Are you for Travel too?
Bel. For any thing;
 For living in the Moon, and stopping hedges,
 E're I stay here to be abus'd, and baffl'd.
Nan. Why did ye not break your minds to me? they are my Daughters;
 And sure I think I should have that command over 'em,
 To see 'em well bestow'd: I know ye are Gentlemen,
 Men of fair Parts and States; I know your Parents;
 And had ye told me of your fair Affections—
 Make but one tryal more; and let me second ye.
Bel. No I'le make Hob-nails first, and mend old Kettles:
 Can ye lend me an Armour of high proof, to appear in,
 And two or three Field-pieces to defend me?
 The Kings Guard are meer Pigmeys.
Nant. They will not eat ye.
Bel. Yes, and you too, and twenty fatter Monsieurs,
 If their high stomachs hold: they came with Chopping-knives,
 To cut me into Rands, and Sirloins, and so powder me.
 Come, shall we go?
Nant. You cannot be so discourteous
 (If ye intend to go) as not to visit 'em,
 And take your leaves.
Mir. That we dare do, and civilly,
 And thank 'em too.
Pin. Yes, Sir, we know that honesty.
Bel. I'le come i'th' Rear, forty foot off, I'le assure ye,
 With a good Gun in my hand; I'le no more Amazons,
 I mean, no more of their frights; I'le make my three legs
 Kiss my hand twice; and if I smell no danger;
 If the enterview be clear, may be I'le speak to her;
 I'le wear a privy coat too; and behind me,
 To make those parts secure, a Bandog.
la-Cast. You are a merry Gentleman.
Bel. A wary Gentleman; I do assure ye,
 I have been warn'd, and must be arm'd.
la-Cast. Well, Son,
 These are your hasty thoughts, when I see you are bent to it,
 Then I'le believe, and joyn with ye; So we'll leave ye:
 There's a Trick will make ye stay.
Nant. I hope so. [Exeunt.
Mir. We have won immortal Fame now, if we leave 'em.
Pin. You have, but we have lost.
Mir. Pinac, thou art cozen'd;
 I know they love ye; and to gain ye handsomly,
 Not to be thought to yield, they would give millions;
 Their Fathers willingness, that must needs shew ye.
Pin. If I thought so.
Mir. Ye shall be hang'd, ye Recreant,
 Would ye turn Renegado now?
Bel. No let's away, Boys,
 Out of the Air, and tumult of their Villanies;
 Though I were married to that Grashopper,
 And had her fast by th' legs I should think she would cozen me.

Enter a young Factor.

Fac. Monsieur Mirabel, I take it?
Mir. Y'are i'th' right, Sir.
Fac. I am come to seek ye, Sir; I have been at your Fathers,
 And understanding you were here.
Mir. Ye are welcom:
 May I crave your name?
Fac. Foss, Sir, and your servant;
 That you may know me better; I am Factor
 To your old Merchant, Leverdure.
Mir. How do's he?
Fac. Well, Sir, I hope: he is now at Orleance,
 About some business.
Mir. You are once more welcom,
 Your Master's a right honest man; and one
 I am much beholding to, and must very shortly
 Trouble his love again.
Fac. You may be bold, Sir.
Mir. Your business if you please now?
Fac. This it is, Sir,
 I know ye well remember in your travel
 A Genoa Merchant.
Mir. I remember many.
Fac. But this man, Sir, particular[l]y; your own benefit
 Must needs imprint him in ye: one Alberto;
 A Gentleman you sav'd from being Murther'd
 A little from Bollonia,
 I was then my self in Italie, and suppli'd ye,
 Though haply, you have forgot me now.
Mir. No, I remember ye,
 And that Alberto too: a noble Gentleman:
 More to remember, were to thank my self, Sir.
 What of that Gentleman?
Fac. He is dead.
Mir. I am sorry.
Fac. But on his death-bed, leaving to his Sister
 All that he had, beside some certain Jewels,
 Which with a Ceremony, he bequeath'd to you,
 In gratefull memory: he commanded strictly
 His Sister, as she lov'd him and his peace,
 To see those Jewels safe, and true deliver'd;
 And with them, his last love. She, as tender
 To observe his will, not trusting friend, nor servant,
 With such a weight, is come her self to Paris,
 And at my Masters house.
Mir. You tell me a wonder.
Fac. I tell ye a truth, Sir: She is young, and handsom,
 And well attended: of much State, and Riches;
 So loving, and obedient to her Brother;
 That on my conscience, if he had given her also,
 She would most willingly have made her tender.
Mir. May not I see her?
Fac. She desires it heartily.
Mir. And presently?
Fac. She is now about some business,
 Passing accompts of some few debts here owing,
 And buying Jewels of a Merchant.
Mir. Is she wealthie?
Fac. I would ye had her, Sir, at all adventure,
 Her Brother had a main State.
Mir. And fair too?
Fac. The prime of all those parts of Italie,
 For beautie, and for Courtesie.
Mir. I must needs see her.
Fac. 'Tis all her business, Sir. Ye may now see her,
 But to morrow will be fitter for your visitation;
 For she is not yet prepared.
Mir. Only her sight, Sir;
 And when you shall think fit for further visit.
Fac. Sir, ye may see her; and I'le wait your coming.
Mir. And I'le be with ye instantly. I know the house,
 Mean time, my love, and thanks, Sir.
Fac. Your poor Servant. [Exit.
Pin. Thou hast the strangest Luck: what was that [Alberto]?
Mir. An honest noble Merchant, 'twas my chance
 To rescue from some rogues had almost slain him;
 And he in kindness to remember this.
Bel. Now we shall have you,
 For all your protestations, and your forwardness,
 Find out strange fortunes in this Ladies eyes,
 And new enticements to put off your journey;
 And who shall have honour then?
Mir. No, no, never fear it:
 I must needs see her, to receive my Legacy.
Bel. If it be ty'd up in her smock, heaven help thee:
 May not we see too?
Mir. Yes, afore we go:
 I must be known my self e're I be able
 To make thee welcom: wouldst thou see more women?
 I thought you had been out of love with all.
Bel. I may be,
 I find that, with the least encouragement:
 Yet I desire to see whether all Countries
 Are naturally possess'd with the same spirits;
 For if they be, I'le take a Monastery,
 And never travel; for I had rather be a Frier,
 And live mew'd up, than be a fool, and flouted.
Mir. Well, well, I'le meet ye anon; then tell you more, boys;
 How e'er stand prepar'd, prest for our journey;
 For certain, we shall go, I think, when I have seen her,
 And view'd her well.
Pin. Go, go, and we'll wait for ye;
 Your fortune directs ours.
Bel. You shall find us i'th' Tavern,
 Lamenting in Sack and Sugar for our losses;
 If she be right Italian, and want servants,
 You may prefer the properest man.
 How I could worry a woman now!
Pin. Come, come, leave prating;
 Ye may have enough to do, without this boasting.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Lugier, de-Gard, Rosalu, and Lilia.

Lug. This is the last adventure.
de-Ga. And the happiest,
 As we hope too.
Ros. We should be glad to find it.
Lil. Who shall conduct us thither?
Lug. Your man is ready,
 For I must not be seen; no, nor this Gentleman;
 That may beget suspicion: all the rest
 Are people of no doubt; I would have ye, Ladies,
 Keep your old liberties, and as we instruct ye:
 Come, look not pale; you shall not lose your wishes;
 Nor beg 'em neither: but be your selves, and happy.
Ros. I tell ye true, I cannot hold off longer,
 Nor give no more hard language.
de-Ga. You shall not need.
Ros. I love the Gentleman, and must now show it;
 Shall I beat a proper man out of heart?
Lug. There's none advises ye.
Lil. 'Faith I repent me too.
Lug. Repent, and spoil all,
 Tell what ye know, ye had best.
Lil. I'le tell what I think;
 For if he ask me now, if I can love him,
 I'le tell him yes, I can: The man's a kind man;
 And out of his true honesty affects me;
 Although he plaid the fool, which I requited;
 Must I still hold him at the staves end?
Lug. You are two strange women.
Ros. We may be, if we fool still.
Lug. Dare ye believe me?
 Follow but this advice I have set you in now,
 And if ye lose: would ye yield now so basely?
 Give up without your honours saved?
de-Gard. Fie, Ladies.
 P[re]serve your freedom still.
Lil. Well, well, for this time.
Lug. And carry that full state.
Ros. That's as the wind stands:
 If it begin to chop about, and scant us;
 Hang me, but I know what I'le do: come direct us,
 I make no doubt, we shall do handsomly.
de-Ga. Some part o'th' way we'll wait upon ye, Ladies;
 The rest your man supplies.
Lug. Do well, I'le honour ye. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Factor, and Mirabel, Oriana, and two Merchants.

Fac. Look ye, Sir, there she is, you see how busie;
 Methinks you are infinitely bound to her, for her journey.
Mir. How gloriously she shews! She is a tall woman.
Fac. Of a fair Size, Sir. My Master not being at home,
 I have been so out of my wits, to get her company:
 I mean, Sir, of her own fair sex, and fashion.
Mir. Afar off, she is most fair too.
Fac. Near, most Excellent.
 At length, I have entreated two fair Ladies,
 And happily you know 'em: the young Daughters
 Of Monsieur Nantolet.
Mir. I know 'em well, Sir.
 What are those? Jewels?
Fac. All.
Mir. They make a rich shew!
Fac. There is a matter of ten thousand pounds too
 Was owing here: you see those Merchants with her;
 They have brought it in now.
Mir. How handsomly her shape shews!
Fac. Those are still neat: your Italians are most curious:
 Now she looks this way.
Mir. She has a goodly presence,
 How full of courtesie! Well, Sir, I'le leave ye,
 And if I may be bold to bring a friend or two;
 Good noble Gentlemen.
Fac. No doubt, ye may, Sir.
 For you have most command.
Mir. I have seen a wonder. [Exit.
Ori. Is he gone?
Fac. Yes.
Ori. How?
Fac. Taken to the utmost,
 A wonder dwells about him.
Ori. He did not guess at me?
Fac. No, be secure; ye shew another woman,
 He is gone to fetch his friends.
Ori. Where are the Gentlewomen?
Fac. Here, here, now they are come,
 Sit still, and let them see ye.

Enter Rosalure, Lilia, Servant.

Ros. Pray ye, where's my friend, Sir?
Fac. She is within, Ladies, but here's another Gentlewoman,
 A stranger to this Town: so please you visit her,
 'Twill be well taken.
Lil. Where is she?
Fac. There, above, Ladies.
Ser. 'Bless me: what thing is this? two Pinacles
 Upon her pate! Is't not a glode to catch Wood-cocks?
Ros. Peace, ye rude knave.
Ser. What a bouncing Bum she has too!
 There's Sail enough for a Carrack.
Ros. What is this Lady?
 For as I live, she's a goodly woman.
Fac. Ghess, ghess.
Lil. I have not seen a nobler Presence.
Ser. 'Tis a lustie wench: now could I spend my forty-pence,
 With all my heart, to have but one fling at her;
 To give her but a washing blow.
Lil. Ye Rascal.
Ser. I that's all a man has, for's good will: 'twill be long enough,
 Before ye cry come Anthonie, and kiss me.
Lil. I'le have ye whipt.
Ros. Has my friend seen this Lady?
Fac. Yes, yes, and is well known to her.
Ros. I much admire her Presence.
Lil. So do I too:
 For I protest, she is the handsomest,
 The rarest, and the newest to mine eye
 That ever I saw yet.
Ros. I long to know her;
 My friend shall do that kindness.
Ori. So she shall Ladies,
 Come, pray ye come up.
Ros. O me.
Lil. Hang me if I knew her:
 Were I a man my self, I should now love ye;
 Nay, I should doat.
Ros. I dare not trust mine eyes;
 For as I live ye are the strangest alter'd,
 I must come up to know the truth.
Ser. So must I, Lady;
 For I am a kind of unbeliever too.
Lil. Get ye gone, Sirrah;
 And what ye have seen, be secret in: you are paid else,
 No more of your long tongue.
Fac. Will ye go in Ladies,
 And talk with her? These venturers will come straight:
 Away with this fellow.
Lil. There, Sirrah, go, disport ye.
Ser. I would the trunk-hos'd-woman would go with me. [Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Belleur.

Pin. Is she so glorious handsom?
Mir. You would wonder:
 Our Women look like Gipsies, like Gills to her:
 Their Clothes and fashions beggerly, and Bankrupt:
 Base, old, and scurvy.
Bel. How looks her face?
Mir. Most heavenly:
 And the becoming-motion of her bodie
 So sets her off.
Bel. Why then we shall stay.
Mir. Pardon me:
 That's more than I know: if she be that woman,
 She appears to be.
Bel. As 'tis impossible.
Mir. I shall then tell ye more.
Pin. Did ye speak to her?
Mir. No, no, I only saw her: She was busie:
 Now I go for that end: and mark her, Gentlemen,
 If she appear not to ye one of the sweetest,
 The handsomest, the fairest in behaviour:
 We shall meet the two wenches there too, they come to visit her,
 To wonder, as we do.
Pin. Then we shall meet 'em.
Bel. I had rather meet two Bears.
Mir. There you may take your leaves, dispatch that business,
 And as ye find their humours.
Pin. Is your love there too?
Mir. No certain, she has no great heart to set out again.
 This is the house, I'le usher ye.
Bel. I'le bless me,
 And take a good heart if I can.
Mir. Come, nobly. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Enter Factor, Rosalure, Lelia, Oriana.

Fac. They are come in: Sit you two off, as strangers,
 There Ladie: where's the boy? be readie, Sirrah,
 And clear your Pipes, the Musick now: they enter. [Musick.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, and Belleur.

Pi. What a state she keeps! how far off they sit from her!
 How rich she is! I marry, this shews bravely.
Bel. She is a lusty wench: and may allure a good man,
 But if she have a tongue, I'le not give two pence for her:
 There sits my Fury: how I shake to see her!
Fac. Madam, this is the Gentleman.
Mir. How sweet she kisses!
 She has a Spring dwells on her lips: a paradise:
 This is the Legacie.
SONG.
From the honor'd dead I bring
 Thus his love and last offring.
 Take it nobly, 'tis your due,
 From a friendship ever true.
 From a faith &c.
Ori. Most noble Sir,
 This from my now dead Brother, as his love,
 And gratefull memory of your great benefit:
 From me my thanks, my wishes, and my service.
 Till I am more acquainted I am silent,
 Only I dare say this, you are truly noble.
Mir. What should I think?
Pin. Think ye have a handsom fortune,
 Would I had such another.
Ros. Ye are well met Gentlemen,
 We hear ye are for travel?
Pin. Ye hear true, Ladie,
 And come to take our leaves.
Lil. We'll along with ye,
 We see you are grown so witty by your Journey,
 We cannot choose but step out too: This Lady
 We mean to wait upon as far as Italy.
Bel. I'll travel into Wales, amongst the mountains;
 I hope they cannot find me.
Ros. If you go further;
 So good, and free society we hold ye,
 We'll jog along too.
Pin. Are ye so valiant Lady?
Lil. And we'll be merry, Sir, and laugh.
Pin. It may be
 We'll go by Sea.
Lil. Why 'tis the only voyage;
 I love a Sea-voyage, and a blustring tempest;
 And let all split.
Pin. This is a dainty Damosel:
 I think 'twill tame ye: can ye ride post?
Lil. O excellently: I am never weary that way:
 A hundred mile a day is nothing with me.
Bel. I'le travel under ground: do you hear (sweet Lady?)
 I find it will be dangerous for a woman.
Ros. No danger, Sir, I warrant; I love to be under.
Bel. I see she will abuse me all the world over:
 But say we pass through Germany, and drink hard?
Ros. We'll learn to drink and swagger too.
Bel. She'l beat me.
 Lady, I'le live at home.
Ros. And I'le live with thee;
 And we'll keep house together.
Bel. I'le keep hounds first;
 And those I hate right heartily.
Pin. I go for Turky,
 And so it may be up into Persia.
Lil. We cannot know too much, I'le travel with ye.
Pin. And you'l abuse me?
Lil. Like enough.
Pin. 'Tis dainty.
Bel. I will live in a bawdy-house.
Ros. I dare come to ye.
Bel. Say, I am dispos'd to hang my self?
Ros. There I'le leave ye.
Bel. I am glad I know how to avoid ye.
Mir. May I speak yet?
Fac. She beckons to ye.
Mir. Lady, I could wish, I knew to recompence,
 Even with the service of my life, those pains,
 And those high favours you have thrown upon me;
 Till I be more desertful in your eye;
 And till my duty shall make known I honour ye:
 Noblest of women, do me but this favour,
 To accept this back again, as a poor testimony.
Ori. I must have you too with 'em; else the will,
 That says they must rest with ye, is infring'd, Sir;
 Which pardon me, I dare not do.
Mir. Take me then;
 And take me with the truest love.
Ori. 'Tis certain,
 My Brother lov'd ye dearly, and I ought
 As dearly to preserve that love. But, Sir,
 Though I were willing, these are but your Ceremonies.
Mir. As I have life, I speak my soul.
Ori. I like ye.
 But how you can like me, without I have Testimony,
 A Stranger to ye.
Mir. I'le marry ye immediately,
 A fair State I dare promise ye.
Bel. Yet she'll couzen thee.
Ori. Would some fair Gentleman durst promise for ye.
Mir. By all that's good.

Enter La-Castre, Nantolet, Lugier, & de-Gard.

All. And we'll make up the rest, Lady.
Ori. Then Oriana takes ye; nay, she has caught ye;
 If ye start now let all the world cry shame on ye:
 I have out travell'd ye.
Bel. Did not I say she would cheat thee?
Mir. I thank ye, I am pleas'd, ye have deceiv'd me;
 And willingly I swallow it, and joy in't;
 And yet perhaps I know ye: whose plot was this?
Lug. He is not asham'd that cast it: he that executed,
 Followed your Fathers will.
Mir. What a world's this, nothing but craft, and cozenage!
Ori. Who begun, Sir?
Mir. Well; I do take thee upon meer Compassion;
 And I do think, I shall love thee. As a Testimony,
 I'le burn my book, and turn a new leaf over,
 But these fine clothes you shall wear still.
Ori. I obey you, Sir, in all.
Nant. And how! how, daughters! what say you to these Gentlemen?
 What say ye, Gentlemen, to the Girles?
Pen. By my troth—if she can love me.
Lil. —How long?
Pin. Nay, if once ye love.
Lil. Then take me,
 And take your chance.
Pin. Most willingly, ye are mine, Lady:
 And if I use ye not, that ye may love me.
Lil. A Match i' faith.
Pin. Why now ye travel with me.
Ros. How that thing stands!
Bel. It will if ye urge it.
 'Bless your five wits.
Ros. Nay, 'prethee stay, I'le have thee.
Bel. You must ask me leave first.
Ros. Wilt thou use me kindly;
 And beat me but once a week?
Bel. If ye deserve no more.
Ros. And wilt thou get me with child?
Bel. Dost thou ask me seriously?
Ros. Yes indeed do I.
Bel. Yes, I will get thee with child: come presently,
 And 't be but in revenge, I'le do thee that courtesie.
 Well, if thou wilt fear God, and me; have at thee.
Ros. I'le love ye, and I'le honour ye.
Bel. I am pleas'd then.
Mir. This Wild-Goose Chase is done, we have won o' both sides.
 Brother, your love: and now to Church of all hands;
 Let's lose no time.
Pin. Our travelling, lay by.
Bel. No more for Italy; for the Low-Countries. [Exeunt.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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