A noise within, crying Follow, follow, follow! then enter BUTLER, THOMAS and JOHN SCARBOROW, with money-bags.

THOM. What shall we do now, butler?

BUT. A man had better line a good handsome pair of gallows before his time, than be born to do these sucklings good, their mother's milk not wrung out of their nose yet; they know no more how to behave themselves in this honest and needful calling of pursetaking, than I do to piece stockings.

WITHIN. This way, this way, this way!

BOTH. 'Sfoot, what shall we do now?

BUT. See if they do not quake like a trembling asp-leaf, and look more miserable than one of the wicked elders pictured in the painted cloth.[399] Should they but come to the credit to be arraigned for their valour before a worshipful bench, their very looks would hang 'em, and they were indicted but for stealing of eggs.

WITHIN. Follow, follow! This way! Follow!

THOM. Butler.

JOHN. Honest butler.

BUT. Squat, heart, squat, creep me into these bushes, and lie me as close to the ground as you would do to a wench.

THOM. How, good butler? show us how.

BUT. By the moon, patroness of all pursetakers, who would be troubled with such changelings? squat, heart, squat.

THOM. Thus, butler?

BUT. Ay so, suckling, so; stir not now: if the peering rogues chance to go over you, yet stir not: younger brothers call you them, and have no more forecast, I am ashamed of you. These are such whose fathers had need leave them money, even to make them ready withal; for, by these hilts, they have not wit to button their sleeves without teaching: close, squat, close. Now if the lot of hanging do fall to my share, so; then the old father's[400] man drops for his young masters. If it chance, it chances; and when it chances, heaven and the sheriff send me a good rope! I would not go up the ladder twice for anything: in the meantime preventions, honest preventions do well, off with my skin; so; you on the ground, and I to this tree, to escape the gallows. [Ascends a tree.]

WITHIN. Follow, follow, follow!

BUT. Do: follow. If I do not deceive you, I'll bid a pox of this wit, and hang with a good grace.

Enter SIR JOHN HARCOP, with two or three others with him.

HAR. Up to this wood they took: search near, my friends, I am this morn robbed of three hundred pound.

BUT. I am sorry there was not four to make even money. Now, by the devil's horns, 'tis Sir John Harcop.

HAR. Leave not a bush unbeat nor tree unsearch'd;
As sure as I was robb'd, the thieves went this way.

BUT. There's nobody, I perceive, but may lie at some time, for one of them climbed this way.

1ST MAN. Stand, I hear a voice; and here's an owl in an ivy-bush.

BUT. You lie, 'tis an old servingman in a nut-tree.

2D MAN. Sirrah, sir, what make you in that tree?

BUT. Gathering of nuts, that such fools as you are may crack the shells, and I eat the kernels.

HAR. What fellow's that?

BUT. Sir John Harcop, my noble knight; I am glad of your good health; you bear your age fair, you keep a good house, I have fed at your board, and been drunk in your buttery.

HAR. But sirrah, sirrah, what made you in that tree?
My man and I, at foot of yonder hill,
Were by three knaves robb'd of three hundred pound.

BUT. A shrewd loss, by'r Lady, sir; but your good worship may now see the fruit of being miserable: you will ride but with one man to save horse-meat and man's meat at your inn at night, and lose three hundred pound in a morning.

HAR. Sirrah, I say I have lost three hundred pound.

BUT. And I say, sir, I wish all miserable knights might be served so; for had you kept half a dozen tall fellows, as a man of your coat should do, they would have helped now to keep your money.

HAR. But tell me, sir, why lurked you in that tree?

BUT. Marry, I will tell you, sir. Coming to the top of the hill where you (right worshipful) were robbed at the bottom, and seeing some a-scuffling together, my mind straight gave me there were knaves abroad: now, sir, I knowing myself to be old, tough, and unwieldy, not being able to do as I would, as much as to say rescue you (right worshipful)—I, like an honest man, one of the king's liege people, and a good subject—

SER. But he says well, sir.

BUT. Got me up to the top of that tree: the tree (if it could speak) would bear me witness, that there I might see which way the knaves took, then to tell you of it, and you right worshipfully to send hue and[401] cry after them.

HAR. Was it so?

BUT. Nay, 'twas so, sir.

HAR. Nay, then, I tell thee they took into this wood.

BUT. And I tell thee (setting thy worship's knighthood aside) he lies in his throat that says so: had not one of them a white frock? did they not bind your worship's knighthood by the thumbs? then faggoted you and the fool your man back to back.

MAN. He says true.

BUT. Why, then, so truly came not they into this wood, but took over the lawns, and left Winnowe steeple on the left hand.

HAR. It may be so. By this they are out of reach;
Well, farewell it.

BUT. Ride with more men, good knight.

HAR. It shall teach me wit.

[Exit. HARCOP with followers.

BUT. So, if this be not played a weapon beyond a scholar's prize, let me be hissed at. Now to the next. Come out, you hedgehogs!

THOM. O butler! thou deserv'st to be chronicled for this.

BUT. Do not belie me, if I had any right, I deserve to be hanged for't.
But come, down with your dust, our morning's purchase.[402]

THOM. Here 'tis; thou hast played well; thou deserv'st two shares in it.

BUT. Three hundred pound! a pretty breakfast: many a man works hard all his days, and never sees half the money. But come, though it be badly got, it shall be better bestowed. But do ye hear, gallants? I have not taught you this trade to get your livings by. Use it not; for if you do, though I 'scaped by the nut-tree, be sure you'll speed by the rope. But for your pains at this time, there's a hundred pounds for you; how you shall bestow it, I'll give you instructions. But do you hear? look ye, go not to your gills, your punks, and your cock-tricks with it. If I hear you do, as I am an honest thief, though I helped you now out of the briars, I'll be a means yet to help you to the gallows. How the rest shall be employed, I have determined, and by the way I'll make you acquainted with it. To steal is bad, but taken, where is store; The fault's the less, being done to help the poor.

[Exeunt.

Enter WENTLOE, BARTLEY, and ILFORD with a letter in his hand.

ILF. Sure, I have said my prayers, and lived virtuously o' late, that this good fortune's befallen me. Look, gallants, I am sent for to come down to my father's burial.

WEN. But dost mean to go?

ILF. Troth, no; I'll go down to take possession of his land: let the country bury him, and they will. I'll stay here a while, to save charge at his funeral.

BAR. And how dost feel thyself, Frank, now thy father is dead?

ILF. As I did before, with my hands; how should I feel myself else? but
I'll tell you news, gallants.

WEN. What's that? dost mean now to serve God?

ILF. Faith, partly; for I intend shortly to go to church, and from thence do faithful service to one woman.

Enter BUTLER.

BUT. Good! I have met my flesh-hooks together. [Aside.]

BAR. What, dost mean to be married?

ILF. Ay, mongrel, married.

BUT. That's a bait for me. [Aside.]

ILF. I will now be honestly married.

WEN. It's impossible, for thou hast been a whoremaster this seven year.

ILF. 'Tis no matter; I will now marry, and to some honest woman too; and so from hence her virtues shall be a countenance to my vices.

BAR. What shall she be, prythee?

ILF. No lady, no widow, nor no waiting gentlewoman, for under protection
Ladies may lard their husbands' heads,
Widows will woodcocks make,
And chambermaids of servingmen
Learn that they'll never forsake.

WEN. Who wilt thou wed then, prythee?

ILF. To any maid, so she be fair:
To any maid, so she be rich:
To any maid, so she be young:
And to any maid—

BAR. So she be honest.

ILF. Faith, it's no great matter for her honesty, for in these days that's a dowry out of request.

BUT. From these crabs will I gather sweetness: wherein I'll imitate the bee, that sucks her honey, not from the sweetest flowers, but [from] thyme, the bitterest: so these having been the means to beggar my master, shall be the helps to relieve his brothers and sister. [Aside.]

ILF. To whom shall I now be a suitor?

BUT. Fair fall ye, gallants.

ILF. Nay, and she be fair, she shall fall sure enough. Butler, how is't, good butler?

BUT. Will you be made gallants?

WEN. Ay, but not willingly cuckolds, though we are now talking about wives.

BUT. Let your wives agree of that after: will you first be richly married?

ALL. How, butler? richly married?

BUT. Rich in beauty, rich in purse, rich in virtue, rich in all things. But mum, I'll say nothing, I know of two or three rich heirs. But cargo![403] my fiddlestick cannot play without rosin: avaunt.

WEN. Butler.

ILF. Dost not know me, butler?

BUT. For kex,[404] dried kex, that in summer has been so liberal to fodder other men's cattle, and scarce have enough to keep your own in winter. Mine are precious cabinets, and must have precious jewels put into them, and I know you to be merchants of stock-fish, dry-meat,[405] and not men for my market: then vanish.

ILF. Come, ye old madcap, you: what need all this? cannot a man have been a little whoremaster in his youth, but you must upbraid him with it, and tell him of his defects which, when he is married, his wife shall find in him? Why, my father's dead, man, now; who by his death has left me the better part of a thousand a year.

BUT. Tut, she of Lancashire has fifteen hundred.

ILF. Let me have her then, good butler.

BUT. And then she, the bright beauty of Leicestershire, has a thousand, nay, thirteen hundred a year, at least.

ILF. O, let me have her, honest butler.

BUT. Besides, she the most delicate, sweet countenanced, black-browed gentlewoman in Northamptonshire, in substance equals the best of them.

ILF. Let me have her then.

BAR. Or I.

WEN. Or I, good butler.

BUT. You were best play the parts of right fools and most desperate whoremasters, and go together by the ears for them, ere ye see them. But they are the most rare-featured, well-faced, excellent-spoke, rare-qualitied, virtuous, and worthy-to-be-admired gentlewomen.

ALL. And rich, butler?

BUT. Ay, that must be one, though they want all the rest [Aside]; —and rich, gallants, as are from the utmost parts of Asia to the present confines of Europe.

ALL. And wilt thou help us to them, butler?

BUT. Faith, 'tis to be doubted; for precious pearl will hardly be bought without precious stones, and I think there's scarce one indifferent one to be found betwixt you three: yet since there is some hope ye may prove honest, as by the death of your fathers you are proved rich, walk severally; for I, knowing you all three to be covetous tug-muttons, will not trust you with the sight of each other's beauty, but will severally talk with you: and since you have deigned in this needful portion of wedlock to be ruled by me, Butler will most bountifully provide wives for you generally.

ALL. Why, that's honestly said. [He walks with each apart.

BUT. Why so: and now first to you, sir knight.

ILF. Godamercy.

BUT. You see this couple of abominable woodcocks here.

ILF. A pox on them! absolute coxcombs.

BUT. You heard me tell them I had intelligence to give of three gentlewomen.

ILF. True.

BUT. Now indeed, sir, I have but the performance of one.

ILF. Good.

BUT. And her I do intend for you, only for you.

ILF. Honest butler.

BUT. Now, sir, she being but lately come to this town, and so nearly watched by the jealous eyes of her friends, she being a rich heir,[406] lest she should be stolen away by some dissolute prodigal or desperate-estated spendthrift, as you have been, sir—

ILF. O, but that's passed, butler.

BUT. True, I know't, and intend now but to make use of them, flatter them with hopeful promises, and make them needful instruments.

ILF. To help me to the wench?

BUT. You have hit it—which thus must be effected: first by keeping close your purpose.

ILF. Good.

BUT. Also concealing from them the lodging, beauty, and riches of your new, but admirable mistress.

ILF. Excellent.

BUT. Of which your following happiness if they should know, either in envy of your good or hope of their own advancement, they'd make our labours known to the gentlewoman's uncles, and so our benefit be frustrate.

ILF. Admirable, butler.

BUT. Which done, all's but this: being, as you shall be, brought into her company, and by my praising your virtues, you get possession of her love, one morning step to the Tower, or to make all sure, hire some stipendiary priest for money—for money in these days what will not be done, and what will not a man do for a rich wife?—and with him make no more ado but marry her in her lodging, and being married, lie with her, and spare not.

ILF. Do they not see us, do they not see us? let me kiss thee, let me kiss thee, butler! let but this be done, and all the benefit, requital and happiness I can promise thee for't, shall be this—I'll be thy rich master, and thou shalt carry my purse.

BUT. Enough, meet me at her lodging some half an hour hence: hark, she lies—[407]

ILF. I ha't.

BUT. Fail not.

ILF. Will I live?

BUT. I will, but shift off these two rhinoceros.

ILF. Widgeons, widgeons: a couple of gulls!

BUT. With some discourse of hope to wive them too, and be with you straight.

ILF. Blessed day! my love shall be thy cushion, honest butler.
[Exit.

BUT. So now to my t'other gallants.

WEN. O butler, we have been in passion at thy tediousness.

BUT. Why, look you, I had all this talk for your good!

BAR. Hadst?

BUT. For you know the knight is but a scurvy-proud-prating prodigal, licentious, unnecessary—

WEN. An ass, an ass, an ass.

BUT. Now you heard me tell him I had three wenches in store.

BAR. And he would have had them all, would he?

BUT. Hear me. Though he may live to be an ox, he had not now so much of the goat in him, but only hopes for one of the three, when indeed I have but two; and knowing you to be men of more virtue, and dearer in my respect, intend them to be yours.

WEN. We shall honour thee.

BAR. But how, butler?

BUT. I am now going to their place of residence, situate in the choicest place of the city, and at the sign of the Wolf, just against Goldsmith's Row, where you shall meet me; but ask not for me, only walk to and fro, and to avoid suspicion you may spend some conference with the shopkeeper's wives[408]; they have seats built a purpose for such familiar entertainment—where, from a bay-window[409] which is opposite, I will make you known to your desired beauties, commend the good parts you have—

WEN. By the mass, mine are very few. [Aside.]

BUT. And win a kind of desire, as women are soon won, to make you be beloved; where you shall first kiss, then woo, at length wed, and at last bed, my noble hearts.

BOTH. O butler!

BUT. Wenches, bona robas[410], blessed beauties, without colour or counterfeit. Away, put on your best clothes, get you to the barber's, curl up your hair, walk with the best struts you can: you shall see more at the window, and I have vowed to make you—

BAR. Wilt thou?

BUT. Both fools [Aside]; and I'll want of my wit, but I'll do't.

BAR. We will live together as fellows.

WEN. As brothers.
[Exeunt.

BUT. As arrant knaves, if I keep you company.
O, the most wretched season of this time!
These men, like fish, do swim within one stream,
Yet they'd eat one another, making no conscience
To drink with them they'd poison; no offence
Betwixt their thoughts and actions has control,
But headlong run, like an unbiass'd bowl.
Yet I will draw[411] them on; but like to him,
At play knows how to lose, and when to win.

Enter THOMAS and JOHN SCARBOROW.

THOM. Butler.

BUT. O, are you come,
And fit as I appointed? so, 'tis well,
You know your cues, and have instructions
How to bear yourselves: all, all is fit,
Play but your part, your states from hence are firm.
[Exit.

JOHN. What shall I term this creature? not a man,

[Betwixt this BUTLER leads ILFORD in.

He's not of mortal's temper, but he's one
Made all of goodness, though of flesh and bone:
O brother, brother, but for that honest man,
As near to misery had been our breath,
As where the thundering pellet strikes, is death.

THOM. Ay, my shift of shirts and change of clothes know't.

JOHN. We'll tell of him, like bells whose music rings
On coronation-day for joy of kings,
That hath preserv'd their steeples, not like tolls,
That summons living tears for the dead souls.

Enter BUTLER and ILFORD above[412].

BUT. God's precious, see the hell, sir: even as you had new-kissed, and were about to court her, if her uncles be not come.

ILF. A plague on the spite on't.

BUT. But 'tis no matter, sir; stay you here in this upper chamber, and I'll stay beneath with her: 'tis ten to one you shall hear them talk now of the greatness of her possessions, the care they have to see her well-bestowed, the admirableness of her virtues, all which for all their coming shall be but happiness ordained for you, and by my means be your inheritance.

ILF. Then thou'lt shift them away, and keep me from the sight of them?

BUT. Have I not promised to make you?

ILF. Thou hast.

BUT. Go to, then, rest here with patience, and be confident in my trust; only in my absence you may praise God for the blessedness you have to come, and say your prayers, if you will. I'll but prepare her heart for entertainment of your love, dismiss them for your free access, and return straight.

ILF. Honest-blessed-natural-friend, thou dealest with me like a brother, butler. [Exit BUTLER.] Sure, heaven hath reserved this man to wear grey hairs to do me good. Now will I listen—listen close to suck in her uncles' words with a rejoicing ear.

THOM. As we were saying, brother[413],
Where shall we find a husband for my niece?

ILF. Marry, she shall find one here, though you little know't. Thanks, thanks, honest butler.

JOHN. She is rich in money, plate, and jewels.

ILF. Comfort, comfort to my soul.

THOM. Hath all her manor-houses richly furnished.

ILF. Good, good; I'll find employment for them.

BUT. within. Speak loud enough, that he may hear you.

JOHN. I take her estate to be about a thousand pound a year.

ILF. And that which my father hath left me will make it about fifteen hundred. Admirable!

JOHN. In debt to no man: then must our natural care be,
As she is wealthy, to see her married well.

ILF. And that she shall be as well as the priest can; he shall not leave a word out.

THOM. I think she has—

ILF. What, a God's name?

THOM. About four thousand pound in her great chest.

ILF. And I'll find a vent for't, I hope.

JOHN. She is virtuous, and she is fair.

ILF. And she were foul, being rich, I would be glad of her.

BUT. Pish, pish!

JOHN. Come, we'll go visit her, but with this care,
That to no spendthrift we do marry her.

[Exeunt.

ILF. You may chance be deceived, old greybeards; here's he will spend some of it; thanks, thanks, honest butler! Now do I see the happiness of my future estate. I walk me as to-morrow, being the day after my marriage, with my fourteen men in livery-cloaks after me, and step to the wall in some chief streets of the city, though I have no occasion to use it, that the shopkeepers may take notice how many followers stand bare to me. And yet in this latter age, the keeping of men being not in request, I will turn my aforesaid fourteen into two pages and two coaches. I will get myself into grace at court, run headlong into debt, and then look scurvily upon the city. I will walk you into the presence in the afternoon, having put on a richer suit than I wore in the morning, and call, boy or sirrah. I will have the grace of some great lady, though I pay for't, and at the next triumphs run a-tilt, that when I run my course, though I break not my lance, she may whisper to herself, looking upon my jewel: well-run, my knight. I will now keep great horses, scorning to have a queen to keep me; indeed I will practise all the gallantry in use; for by a wife comes all my happiness.

Enter BUTLER.

BUT. Now, sir, you have heard her uncles, and how do you like them?

ILF. O butler, they have made good thy words, and I am ravished with them.

BUT. And having seen and kissed the gentlewoman, how do you like her?

ILF. O butler, beyond discourse, beyond any element; she's a paragon for a prince, rather than a fit implement for a gentleman.[414]

BUT. Well then, since you like her, and by my means, she shall like you, nothing rests now, but to have you married.

ILF. True, butler, but withal to have her portion!

BUT. Tut, that's sure yours, when you are married once, for 'tis hers by inheritance; but do you love her?

ILF. O, with my soul.

BUT. Have you sworn as much?

ILF. To thee, to her; and have called heaven to witness.

BUT. How shall I know that?

ILF. Butler, here I protest, make vows irrevocable.

BUT. Upon your knees?

ILF. Upon my knees, with my heart and soul I love her.

BUT. Will live with her?

ILF. Will live with her.

BUT. Marry her and maintain her?

ILF. Marry her and maintain her.

BUT. For her forsake all other women?

ILF. Nay, for her forswear all other women.

BUT. In all degrees of love?

ILF. In all degrees of love, either to court, kiss, give private favours, or use private means. I'll do nothing that married men, being close whoremasters, do, so I may have her.

BUT. And yet you, having been an open whoremaster, I will not believe you till I hear you swear as much in the way of contract to herself, and call me to be a witness.

ILF. By heaven, by earth, by hell, by all that man can swear, I will, so
I may have her.

BUT. Enough.
Thus at first sight rash men to women swear,
When, such oaths broke, heaven grieves and sheds a tear.
But she's come; ply her, ply her.

Enter SCARBOROW'S SISTER.

ILF. Kind mistress, as I protested, so again I vow,
I'faith, I love you.

SIS. And I am not, sir, so uncharitable,
To hate the man that loves me.

ILF. Love me then,
The which loves you as angels love good men;
Who wisheth them to live with them for ever,
In that high bliss, whom hell cannot dissever.

BUT. I'll steal away and leave them, as wise men do; Whom they would match, let them have leave to woo. [Exit BUTLER.

ILF. Mistress, I know your worth is beyond my desert; yet by my praising of your virtues, I would not have you, as women use to do, become proud.

SIS. None of my affections are pride's children, nor akin to them.

ILF. Can you love me then?

SIS. I can; for I love all the world, but am in love with none.

ILF. Yet be in love with me; let your affections
Combine with mine, and let our souls
Like turtles have a mutual sympathy,
Who love so well, that they die together.
Such is my life, who covets to expire,
If it should lose your love.

SIS. May I believe you?

ILF. In troth you may:
Your life's my life, your death my dying-day.

SIS. Sir, the commendations I have received from Butler of your birth and worth, together with the judgment of mine own eye, bids me believe and love you.

ILF. O, seal it with a kiss. Bless'd hour! my life had never joy till this.

Enter WENTLOE and BARTLEY beneath.

BAR. Hereabout is the house, sure.

WEN. We cannot mistake it; for here's the sign of the Wolf, and the bay-window.

Enter BUTLER above.

BUT. What, so close? 'Tis well I have shifted away your uncles, mistress. But see the spite of Sir Francis! if yon same couple of smell-smocks, Wentloe and Bartley, have not scented after us.

ILF. A pox on them! what shall we do then, butler?

BUT. What, but be married straight, man?

ILF. Ay, but how, butler?

BUT. Tut, I never fail at a dead lift; for, to perfect your bliss, I have provided you a priest.

ILF. Where? prythee, butler, where?

BUT. Where but beneath in her chamber? I have filled his hands with coin, and he shall tie you fast with words; he shall close your hands in one, and then do clap yourself into her sheets, and spare not.

ILF. O sweet!

[Exit ILFORD with SCARBOROW'S SISTER.[415]

BUT. Down, down, 'tis the only way for you to get up.
Thus in this task for others' good I toil,
And she, kind gentlewoman, weds herself,
Having been scarcely woo'd, and ere her thoughts
Have learn'd to love him that, being her husband,
She may relieve her brothers in their wants;
She marries him to help her nearest kin:
I make the match, and hope it is no sin.

WEN. 'Sfoot, it is scurvy walking for us so near the two Counters; would he would come once!

BAR. Mass, he's yonder: now, Butler.

BUT. O gallants, are you here? I have done wonders for you, commended you to the gentlewomen who, having taken note of your good legs and good faces, have a liking to you; meet me beneath.

BOTH. Happy butler.

BUT. They are yours, and you are theirs; meet me beneath, I say.

[Exeunt WENTLOE and BARTLEY.

By this they are wed; ay, and perhaps have bedded.
Now follows whether, knowing she is poor,
He'll swear he lov'd her, as he swore before.

[Exit BUTLER.