  EDITOR’S NOTE The text here adopted is that of the original edition of 1631. No changes of reading have been made; spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and italics are reproduced. The original pagination is inserted in brackets; the book-holder’s marginal notes are inserted where 1716 and Whalley placed them. In a few instances modern type has been substituted for archaic characters. The spacing of the contracted words has been normalized.
Mere changes of spelling have not been noted in the variants. All changes of form and all suggestive changes of punctuation have been recorded. THE DIUELL IS A COMEDIE ACTED IN THE BY HIS MAIESTIES The Author BEN: IONSON. HOR. de ART. POET. [DEVICE OF A GRIFFIN’S HEAD ERASED] LONDON. Printed by I. B. for Robert Allot, and are THE PERSONS
SERIEANTS. The Scene, London. The Prologue. The Divell is an A??e. That is, to day, The name of what you are met for, a new Play. Yet, Grandee’s, would you were not come to grace Our matter, with allowing vs no place. Though you pre?ume Satan a ?ubtill thing, 5 And may haue heard hee’s worne in a thumbe-ring; Doe not on the?e pre?umptions, force vs act, In compa??e of a chee?e-trencher. This tract Will ne’er admit our vice, becau?e of yours. Anone, who, wor?e then you, the fault endures 10 That your ?elues make? when you will thru?t and ?purne, And knocke vs o’ the elbowes, and bid, turne; As if, when wee had ?poke, wee mu?t be gone, Or, till wee ?peake, mu?t all runne in, to one, Like the young adders, at the old ones mouth? 15 Would wee could ?tand due North; or had no South, If that offend: or were Mu?couy gla??e, That you might looke our Scenes through as they pa??e. We know not how to affect you. If you’ll come To ?ee new Playes, pray you affoord vs roome, 20 And ?hew this, but the ?ame face you haue done Your deare delight, the Diuell of Edmunton. Or, if, for want of roome it mu?t mi?-carry, ’Twill be but Iu?tice, that your cen?ure tarry, Till you giue ?ome. And when ?ixe times you ha’ ?een’t, 25 If this Play doe not like, the Diuell is in’t. [95] THE DIVELL IS AN ASSE. Act. I. Scene. I. Divell. Pvg. Iniqvity. Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, &c. To earth? and, why to earth, thou foooli?h Spirit? What wold’?t thou do on earth? Pvg. For that, great Chiefe! As time ?hal work. I do but ask my mon’th. Which euery petty pui’nee Diuell has; 5 Within that terme, the Court of Hell will heare Some thing, may gaine a longer grant, perhaps. Sat. For what? the laming a poore Cow, or two? Entring a Sow, to make her ca?t her farrow? Or cro??ing of a Mercat-womans Mare, 10 Twixt this, and Totnam? the?e were wont to be Your maine atchieuements, Pug, You haue ?ome plot, now, Vpon a tonning of Ale, to ?tale the ye?t, Or keepe the churne ?o, that the buttter come not; Spight o’ the hou?ewiues cord, or her hot ?pit? 15 Or ?ome good Ribibe, about Kenti?h Towne, Or Hog?den, you would hang now, for a witch, Sat. What Vice? 40 What kind would?t th’ haue it of? Pvg. Why, any Fraud; Or Couetou?ne??e; or Lady Vanity; Or old Iniquity: I’ll call him hither. Ini. What is he, calls vpon me, and would ?eeme to lack a Vice? Ere his words be halfe ?poken, I am with him in a trice; 45 Here, there, and euery where, as the Cat is with the mice: True vetus Iniquitas. Lack’?t thou Cards, friend, or Dice? I will teach thee cheate, Child, to cog, lye, and ?wagger, Pvg. Is it not excellent, Chiefe? how nimble he is! Ini. Child of hell, this is nothing! I will fetch thee a leape 55 From the top of Pauls-?teeple, to the Standard in Cheepe: And lead thee a daunce, through the ?treets without faile, Like a needle of Spaine, with a thred at my tayle. We will ?uruay the Suburbs, and make forth our ?allyes, Downe Petticoate-lane, and vp the Smock-allies, 60 To Shoreditch, Whitechappell, and so to Saint Kathernes. To drinke with the Dutch there, and take forth their patternes: From thence, wee will put in at Cu?tome-hou?e key there, And ?ee, how the Factors, and Prentizes play there, Fal?e with their Ma?ters; and gueld many a full packe, 65 To ?pend it in pies, at the Dagger, and the Wool-?acke. Pvg. Braue, braue, Iniquity! will not this doe, Chiefe? Ini. Nay, boy, I wil bring thee to the Bawds, and the Roy?ters, At Belins-gate, fea?ting with claret-wine, and oy?ters, From thence ?hoot the Bridge, childe, to the Cranes i’ the Vintry, 70 And ?ee, there the gimblets, how they make their entry! Or, if thou had?t rather, to the Strand downe to fall, ’Gain?t the Lawyers come dabled from We?tmin?ter-hall [97] And marke how they cling, with their clyents together, Like Iuie to Oake; so Veluet to Leather: 75 Ha, boy, I would ?hew thee. Pvg. Rare, rare! Div. Peace, dotard, And thou more ignorant thing, that ?o admir’?t. Art thou the ?pirit thou ?eem’?t? ?o poore? to choo?e This, for a Vice, t’aduance the cau?e of Hell, Now? as Vice ?tands this pre?ent yeere? Remember, 80 What number it is. Six hundred and ?ixteene. Had it but beene fiue hundred, though ?ome ?ixty Aboue; that’s fifty yeeres agone, and ?ix, (When euery great man had his Vice ?tand by him, In his long coat, ?haking his wooden dagger) 85 I could con?ent, that, then this your graue choice Might haue done that with his Lord Chiefe, the which Mo?t of his chamber can doe now. But Pug, As the times are, who is it, will receiue you? What company will you goe to? or whom mix with? 90 Where can?t thou carry him? except to Tauernes? To mount vp ona joynt-?toole, with a Iewes-trumpe, To put downe Cokeley, and that mu?t be to Citizens? He ne’re will be admitted, there, where Vennor comes. Hee may perchance, in taile of a Sheriffes dinner, 95 Skip with a rime o’ the Table, from New-nothing, And take his Almaine-leape into a cu?tard, Shall make my Lad Maiore??e, and her ?i?ters, Laugh all their hoods ouer their shoulders. But, This is not that will doe, they are other things 100 That are receiu’d now vpon earth, for Vices; Stranger, and newer: and chang’d euery houre. They ride ’hem like their hor?es off their legges, And here they come to Hell, whole legions of ’hem, Euery weeke tyr’d. Wee, ?till ?triue to breed, 105 And reare ’hem vp new ones; but they doe not ?tand, When they come there: they turne ’hem on our hands. And it is fear’d they haue a ?tud o’ their owne Will put downe ours. Both our breed, and trade Pvg. Most gracious Chiefe! Div. Onely, thus more I bind you, To ?erue the fir?t man that you meete; and him I’le ?hew you, now: Obserue him. Yon’ is hee, He ?hewes Fitz-dottrel to him, comming forth. You ?hall ?ee, fir?t, after your clothing. Follow him: But once engag’d, there you mu?t ?tay and fixe; Not ?hift, vntill the midnights cocke doe crow. Pvg. Any conditions to be gone. Div. Away, then. 157 Act. I. Scene. II. Fitz-Dottrell. I, they doe, now, name Bretnor, as before, [97] They talk’d of Gre?ham, and of Doctor Fore-man, Francklin, and Fiske, and Sauory (he was in too) But there’s not one of the?e, that euer could Yet ?hew a man the Diuell, in true ?ort. 5 They haue their chri?talls, I doe know, and rings, And virgin parchment, and their dead-mens ?culls Act. I. Scene. IIJ. Pvg. Fitz-dottrell. Sir, your good pardon, that I thus pre?ume Vpon your priuacy. I am borne a Gentleman, A younger brother; but, in ?ome di?grace, Now, with my friends: and want ?ome little meanes, To keepe me vpright, while things be reconcil’d. 5 Plea?e you, to let my ?eruice be of v?e to you, Sir. Fit. Seruice? ’fore hell, my heart was at my mouth, Till I had view’d his ?hooes well: for, tho?e ro?es Were bigge inough to hide a clouen foote. Hee lookes and ?uruay’s his feet: ouer and ouer. No, friend, my number’s full. I haue one ?eruant, 10 Who is my all, indeed; and, from the broome Vnto the bru?h: for, iu?t so farre, I tru?t him. He is my Ward-robe man, my Cater, Cooke, Pvg. Sir, I ?hall put your wor?hip to no charge, More then my meate, and that but very little, I’le ?erue you for your loue. Fit. Ha? without wages? 20 I’le harken o’ that eare, were I at lea?ure. But now, I’m bu?ie. ’Pr’y the, friend forbeare mee, And’ thou had?t beene a Diuell, I ?hould ?ay [101] Somewhat more to thee. Thou do?t hinder, now, My meditations. Pvg. Sir, I am a Diuell. 25 Fit. How! Pvg. A true Diuell, Sr. Fit. Nay, now, you ly: Vnder your fauour, friend, for, I’ll not quarrell. I look’d o’ your feet, afore, you cannot coozen mee, Your ?hoo’s not clouen, Sir, you are whole hoof’d. He viewes his feete againe. Pvg. Sir, that’s a popular error, deceiues many: 30 But I am that, I tell you. Fit. What’s your name? Pvg. My name is Diuell, Sr. Fit. Sai’?t thou true. Pvg. in-deed, Sr. Fit. ’Slid! there’s ?ome omen i’ this! what countryman? Pvg. Of Derby-?hire, Sr. about the Peake. Fit. That Hole Belong’d to your Ance?tors? Pvg. Yes, Diuells ar?e, Sr. 35 Fit. I’ll entertaine him for the name ?ake. Ha? And turne away my tother man? and ?aue Foure pound a yeere by that? there’s lucke, and thrift too! The very Diuell may come, heereafter, as well. Friend, I receiue you: but (withall) I acquaint you, 40 Aforehand, if yo’ offend mee, I mu?t beat you. Pvg. Yes, if I doe not Offend, you can, ?ure. Fit. Faith, Diuell, very hardly: I’ll call you by your ?urname, ’cau?e I loue it. 45 Act. I. Scene. IIII. Ingine. Wittipol. Manly. Yonder hee walkes, Sir, I’ll goe lift him for you. Wit. To him, good Ingine, rai?e him vp by degrees, Gently, and hold him there too, you can doe it. Shew your ?elfe now, a Mathematicall broker. Ing. I’ll warrant you for halfe a piece. Wit. ’Tis done, Sr. 5 Man. Is’t po??ible there ?hould be ?uch a man? Wit. You ?hall be your owne witne??e, I’ll not labour To tempt you pa?t your faith. Man. And is his wife So very hand?ome, ?ay you? Wit. I ha’ not ?eene her, Since I came home from trauell: and they ?ay, 10 Shee is not alter’d. Then, before I went, I ?aw her once; but ?o, as ?hee hath ?tuck Still i’ my view, no obiect hath remou’d her. Man. ’Tis a faire gue?t, Friend, beauty: and once lodg’d [102] Deepe in the eyes, ?hee hardly leaues the Inne. 15 How do’s he keepe her? Wit. Very braue. Howeuer, Himselfe be fordide, hee is ?en?uall that way. In euery dre??ing, hee do’s ?tudy her. Man. And furni?h forth himselfe ?o from the Brokers? Wit. Yes, that’s a hyr’d ?uite, hee now has one, 20 Man. But ?tay, 25 Do’s he loue meat ?o? Wit. Faith he do’s not hate it. But that’s not it. His belly and his palate Would be compounded with for rea?on. Mary, A wit he has, of that ?trange credit with him, ’Gain?t all mankinde; as it doth make him doe 30 Iu?t what it li?t: it raui?hes him forth, Whither it plea?e, to any a??embly’or place, And would conclude him ruin’d, ?hould hee ?cape One publike meeting, out of the beliefe He has of his owne great, and Catholike ?trengths, 35 In arguing, and di?cour?e. It takes, I ?ee: H’has got the cloak vpon him. Ingine hath won Fitzdottrel, to ’?ay on the cloake. Fit. A faire garment, By my faith, Ingine! Ing. It was neuer made, Sir, For three ?core pound, I a??ure you: ’Twill yeeld thirty. The plu?h, Sir, co?t three pound, ten ?hillings a yard! 40 And then the lace, and veluet. Fit. I ?hall, Ingine, Be look’d at, pretitly, in it! Art thou ?ure The Play is play’d to day? Ing. O here’s the bill, Sr. Hee giues him the Play-bill. I’, had forgot to gi’t you. Fit. Ha? the Diuell! I will not lo?e you, Sirah! But, Ingine, thinke you, 45 The Gallant is ?o furious in his folly? So mad vpon the matter, that hee’ll part With’s cloake vpo’ the?e termes? Ing. Tru?t not your Ingine, Breake me to pieces el?e, as you would doe A rotten Crane, or an old ru?ty Iacke, 50 Fit. I ?hall doe that, to ?atisfie you, Ingine, And my ?elfe too. With your leaue, Gentlemen. Hee turnes to Wittipol. Which of you is it, is ?o meere Idolater To my wiues beauty, and ?o very prodigall 55 Vnto my patience, that, for the ?hort parlee? Of one ?wift houres quarter, with my wife, He will depart with (let mee ?ee) this cloake here The price of folly? Sir, are you the man? Wit. I am that vent’rer, Sir. Fit. Good time! your name 60 Is Witty-pol? Wit. The ?ame, Sr. Fit. And ’tis told me, [103] Yo’ haue trauell’d lately? Wit. That I haue, Sr. Fit. Truly, Your trauells may haue alter’d your complexion; But ?ure, your wit ?tood ?till. Wit. It may well be, Sir. All heads ha’ not like growth. Fit. The good mans grauity, 65 That left you land, your father, neuer taught you The?e plea?ant matches? Wit. No, nor can his mirth, With whom I make ’hem, put me off. Fit. You are Re?olu’d then? Wit. Yes, Sr. Fit. Beauty is the Saint, You’ll ?acrifice your ?elfe, into the ?hirt too? 70 Wit. So I may ?till cloth, and keepe warme your wi?dome? Fit. You lade me Sr! Wit. I know what you wil beare, Sr. Fit. Well, to the point. ’Tis only, Sir, you ?ay, To ?peake vnto my wife? Wit. Only, to ?peake to her. Fit. And in my pre?ence? Wit. In your very pre?ence. 75 Fit. And in my hearing? Wit. In your hearing: ?o, You interrupt vs not. Fit. For the ?hort ?pace You doe demand, the fourth part of an houre, I thinke I ?hall, with ?ome conuenient ?tudy, And this good helpe to boot, bring my ?elfe to’t. 80 Hee ?hrugs him?elfe vp in the cloake. Wit. I aske no more. Fit. Plea?e you, walk to’ard my hou?e, Speake what you li?t; that time is yours: My right I haue departed with. But, not beyond, A minute, or a ?econd, looke for. Length, And drawing out, ma’aduance much, to the?e matches. 85 And I except all ki??ing. Ki??es are Silent petitions ?till with willing Louers. Wit. Louers? How falls that o’ your phant?ie? Fit. Sir. I doe know ?omewhat. I forbid all lip-worke. Wit. I am not eager at forbidden dainties. 90 Who couets vnfit things, denies him ?elfe. Fit. You ?ay well, Sir, ’Twas prettily ?aid, that ?ame, He do’s, indeed. I’ll haue no touches, therefore, Nor takings by the armes, nor tender circles Ca?t ’bout the wa?t, but all be done at di?tance. 95 Loue is brought vp with tho?e ?oft migniard handlings; His pul?e lies in his palme: and I defend All melting ioynts, and fingers, (that’s my bargaine) I doe defend ’hem, any thing like action. But talke, Sir, what you will. V?e all the Tropes 100 And Schemes, that Prince Quintilian can afford you: And much good do your Rhetoriques heart. You are welcome, Sir. Ingine, God b’w’you. Wit. Sir, I mu?t condition To haue this Gentleman by, a witne??e. Fit. Well, I am content, ?o he be ?ilent. Man. Yes, S r. 105 Fit. Come Diuell, I’ll make you roome, ?treight. But I’ll ?hew you Fir?t, to your Mi?tre??e, who’s no common one, You mu?t conceiue, that brings this game to ?ee her. [104] I hope thou’?t brought me good lucke. Pvg. I ?hall do’t. Sir. Act. I. Scene. V. VVittipol. Manly. Act. I. Scene. VI. [105] Fitz-dottrell. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrell. Come wife, this is the Gentleman. Nay, blu?h not. Mrs. Fi. Why, what do you meane Sir? ha’ you your rea?on? Fit. Wife, I do not know, that I haue lent it forth To any one; at lea?t, without a pawne, wife: Or that I’haue eat or drunke the thing, of late, 5 That ?hould corrupt it. Wherefore gentle wife, Obey, it is thy vertue: hold no acts Of di?putation. Mrs. Fi. Are you not enough The talke, of fea?ts, and meetingy, but you’ll ?till Make argument for fre?h? Fit. Why, carefull wedlocke, 10 If I haue haue a longing to haue one tale more Goe of mee, what is that to thee, deare heart? Why ?hould?t thou enuy my delight? or cro??e it? By being ?olicitous, when it not concernes thee? Mrs. Fi. Yes, I haue ?hare in this. The ?corne will fall 15 Fit. Laught at, ?weet bird? is that the ?cruple? Come, come, Thou art a Niai?e. A Niai?e is a young Hawke, tane crying out of the ne?t. Which of your great hou?es, (I will not meane at home, here, but abroad) Your families in France, wife, ?end not forth 20 Something, within the ?euen yeere, may be laught at? I doe not ?ay ?euen moneths, nor ?euen weekes, Nor ?euen daies, nor houres: but ?euen yeere wife. I giue ’hem time. Once, within ?euen yeere, I thinke they may doe ?omething may be laught at. 25 In France, I keepe me there, ?till. Wherefore, wife, Let them that li?t, laugh ?till, rather then weepe For me; Heere is a cloake co?t fifty pound, wife, Which I can ?ell for thirty, when I ha’ ?eene All London in’t, and London has ?eene mee. 30 To day, I goe to the Black-fryers Play-hou?e, Sit ithe view, ?alute all my acquaintance, Ri?e vp betweene the Acts, let fall my cloake, Publi?h a hand?ome man, and a rich ?uite (As that’s a ?peciall end, why we goe thither, 35 All that pretend, to ?tand for’t o’ the Stage) The Ladies aske who’s that? (For, they doe come [106] To ?ee vs, Loue, as wee doe to ?ee them) Now, I ?hall lo?e all this, for the fal?e feare Of being laught at? Yes, wu??e. Let ’hem laugh, wife, 40 Let me haue ?uch another cloake to morrow. And let ’hem laugh againe, wife, and againe, And then grow fat with laughing, and then fatter, All my young Gallants, let ’hem bring their friends too: Shall I forbid ’hem? No, let heauen forbid ’hem: 45 Or wit, if’t haue any charge on ’hem. Come, thy eare, wife, He di?po?es his wife to his place, and ?ets his watch. Wit. I’le ?et it. Sir, with yours. Mrs. Fi. I mu?t obey. Man. Her mode?ty ?eemes to ?uffer with her beauty, 60 And ?o, as if his folly were away, It were worth pitty. Fit. Now, th’are right, beginne, Sir. But fir?t, let me repeat the contract, briefely. Hee repeats his contract againe. I am, Sir, to inioy this cloake, I ?tand in, Freely, and as your gift; vpon condition 65 You may as freely, ?peake here to my ?pou?e, Your quarter of an houre alwaies keeping The mea?ur’d di?tance of your yard, or more, From my ?aid Spou?e: and in my ?ight and hearing. This is your couenant? Wit. Yes, but you’ll allow 70 For this time ?pent, now? Fit. Set ’hem ?o much backe. Wit. I thinke, I ?hall not need it. Fit. Well, begin, Sir, There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that ru?h. Wit. If you interrupt me, Sir, I ?hall di?cloake you. Wittipol beginnes. The time I haue purcha?t, Lady, is but ?hort; 75 And, therefore, if I imploy it thriftily, Fit. I did looke for this geere. Wit. And what a daughter of darkne??e, he do’s make you, 100 Lock’d vp from all ?ociety, or object; Your eye not let to looke vpon a face, Vnder a Conjurers (or ?ome mould for one, Hollow, and leane like his) but, by great meanes, As I now make; your owne too ?en?ible ?ufferings, 105 Without the extraordinary aydes, Of ?pells, or ?pirits, may a??ure you, Lady. For my part, I prote?t ’gain?t all ?uch practice, I worke by no fal?e arts, medicines, or charmes To be said forward and backward. Fit. No, I except: 110 Wit. Sir I ?hall ease you. He offers to di?cloake him. Fit. Mum. Wit. Nor haue I ends, Lady, Vpon you, more then this: to tell you how Loue Beauties good Angell, he that waits vpon her At all occa?ions, and no le??e then Fortune, Helps th’ aduenturous, in mee makes that proffer, 115 Which neuer faire one was ?o fond, to lo?e; Who could but reach a hand forth to her freedome: On the fir?t ?ight, I lou’d you: ?ince which time, Though I haue trauell’d, I haue beene in trauell More for this second blessing of your eyes 120 Which now I’haue purchas’d, then for all aymes el?e. Thinke of it, Lady, be your minde as actiue, As is your beauty: view your object well. Examine both my fa?hion, and my yeeres; Things, that are like, are ?oone familiar: 125 And Nature ioyes, ?till in equality. Let not the ?igne o’ the husband fright you, Lady. But ere your ?pring be gone, inioy it. Flowers, Though faire, are oft but of one morning. Thinke, All beauty doth not la?t vntill the autumne. 130 You grow old, while I tell you this. And ?uch, [108] As cannot v?e the pre?ent, are not wi?e. If Loue and Fortune will take care of vs, Why ?hould our will be wanting? This is all. What doe you an?wer, Lady? Shee stands mute. Fit. Now, the sport comes. 135 Let him ?till waite, waite, waite: while the watch goes, And the time runs. Wife! Wit. How! not any word? Nay, then, I ta?te a tricke in’t. Worthy Lady, I cannot be ?o fal?e to mine owne thoughts Of your pre?umed goodne??e, to conceiue 140 This, as your rudene??e, which I ?ee’s impos’d. Fit. No, no, no, no. Wit. I ?hall re?ume, Sr. Man. Sir, what doe you meane? He ?ets Mr. Manly, his friend, in her place. Wit. One interruption more, Sir, and you goe 150 Into your ho?e and doublet, nothing ?aues you. And therefore harken. This is for your wife. Man. You mu?t play faire, Sr. Wit. Stand for mee, good friend. And ?peaks for her. Troth, Sir, tis more then true, that you haue vttred Of my vnequall, and ?o ?ordide match heere, 155 With all the circum?tances of my bondage. I haue a husband, and a two-legg’d one, But ?uch a moon-ling, as no wit of man Or ro?es can redeeme from being an A??e. H’is growne too much, the ?tory of mens mouthes, 160 To ?cape his lading: ?hould I make’t my ?tudy, And lay all wayes, yea, call mankind to helpe, To take his burden off, why, this one act Of his, to let his wife out to be courted, And, at a price, proclaimes his a?inine nature 165 So lowd, as I am weary of my title to him. But Sir, you ?eeme a Gentleman of vertue, No le??e then blood; and one that euery way Hee ?hifts to his owne place againe Fit. Keepe your ground Sir. Wit. Will you be lightned? Fit. Mum. Wit. And but I am, By the ?ad contract, thus to take my leaue of you 195 At this ?o enuious distance, I had taught Our lips ere this, to ?eale the happy mixture Made of our ?oules. But we mu?t both, now, yeeld Fit. Well, then, I ha’ won? Wit. Sir, And I may win, too. Fit. O yes! no doubt on’t. I’ll take carefull order, That ?hee ?hall hang forth en?ignes at the window, 210 To tell you when I am ab?ent. Or I’ll keepe Three or foure foote-men, ready ?till of purpo?e, To runne and fetch you, at her longings, Sir. I’ll goe be?peake me ?traight a guilt caroch, For her and you to take the ayre in. Yes, 215 Into Hide-parke, and thence into Black-Fryers, Vi?it the painters, where you may ?ee pictures, And note the propere?t limbs, and how to make ’hem. Or what doe you ?ay vnto a middling Go??ip To bring you aye together, at her lodging? 220 Vnder pretext of teaching o’ my wife Some rare receit of drawing almond milke? ha? It shall be a part of my care. Good Sir, God b’w’you. I ha’ kept the contract, and the cloake is mine. Wit. Why, much good do’t you Sr; it may fall out, [110] 225 That you ha’ bought it deare, though I ha’ not ?old it. Fit. A pretty riddle! Fare you well, good Sir. Wife, your face this way, looke on me: and thinke Yo’ haue had a wicked dreame, wife, and forget it. Hee turnes his wife about. Man. This is the ?trange?t motion I ere ?aw. 230 Fit. Now, wife, ?its this faire cloake the wor?e vpon me, For my great ?ufferings, or your little patience? ha? They laugh, you thinke? Mrs. Fi. Why Sr. and you might ?ee’t. What thought, they haue of you, may be ?oone collected By the young Genlemans ?peache. Fit. Youug Gentleman? 235 Death! you are in loue with him, are you? could he not Be nam’d the Gentleman, without the young? Vp to your Cabbin againe. Mrs. Fi. My cage, yo’ were be?t To call it? Fit. Yes, ?ing there. You’ld faine be making Blanck Manger with him at your mothers! I know you. 240 Goe get you vp. How now! what ?ay you, Diuell? Act. I. Scene. VII. Pvg. Fitzdottrel. Ingine. Heere is one Ingine, Sir, de?ires to ?peake with you. Fit. I thought he brought ?ome newes, of a broker! Well, Let him come in, good Diuell: fetch him el?e. O, my fine Ingine! what’s th’affaire? more cheats? Ing. No Sir, the Wit, the Braine, the great Proiector, 5 I told you of, is newly come to towne. Fit. Where, Ingine? Ing. I ha’ brought him (H’is without) Ere hee pull’d off his boots, Sir, but ?o follow’d, For bu?ine??es: Fit. But what is a Proiector? Ing. Why, one Sir, that proiects 10 Wayes to enrich men, or to make ’hem great, By ?uites, by marriages, by vndertakings: According as he ?ees they humour it. Fit. Can hee not coniure at all? Ing. I thinke he can, Sir. (To tell you true) but, you doe know, of late, 15 The State hath tane ?uch note of ’hem, and compell’d ’hem, To enter ?uch great bonds, they dare not practice. Fit. ’Tis true, and I lie fallow for’t, the while! Ing. O, Sir! you’ll grow the richer for the re?t. Fit. I hope I ?hall: but Ingine, you doe talke 20 Somewhat too much, o’ my cour?es. My Cloake-cu?tomer Could tell mee ?trange particulars. Ing. By my meanes? [111] Fit. How ?hould he haue ’hem el?e? Ing. You do not know, Sr, What he has: and by what arts! A monei’d man, Sir, And is as great with your Almanack-Men, as you are! 25 Fit. That Gallant? Ing. You make the other wait too long, here: And hee is extreme punctuall. Fit. Is he a gallant? Ing. Sir, you ?hall ?ee: He’is in his riding ?uit, As hee comes now from Court. But heere him ?peake: Mini?ter matter to him, and then tell mee. 30 Act. IJ. Scene. I. Meer-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Ingine. Sir, money’s a whore, a bawd, a drudge; Fit to runne out on errands: Let her goe. Via pecunia! when ?he’s runne and gone, And fled and dead; then will I fetch her, againe, With Aqua-vitÆ, out of an old Hogs-head! 5 While there are lees of wine, or dregs of beere, I’le neuer want her! Coyne her out of cobwebs, Du?t, but I’ll haue her! Rai?e wooll vpon egge-?hells, Sir, and make gra?e grow out o’ marro-bones. To make her come. (Commend mee to your Mi?tre??e, 10 To a waiter. Say, let the thou?and pound but be had ready, And it is done) I would but ?ee the creature (Of fle?h, and blood) the man, the prince, indeed, That could imploy ?o many millions As I would help him to. Fit. How, talks he? millions? 15 Mer. (I’ll giue you an account of this to morrow.) Yes, I will talke no le??e, and doe it too; To another. If they were Myriades: and without the Diuell, By direct meanes, it ?hall be good in law. Ing. Sir. [112] Mer. Tell Mr. Wood-cock, I’ll not faile to meet him 20 To a third. Ing. Harken? why Sr, do you doubt his eares? Alas! 30 You doe not know Ma?ter Fitz-dottrel. Fit. He do’s not know me indeed. I thank you, Ingine, For rectifying him. Mer. Good! Why, Ingine, then He turnes to Ingine. I’le tell it you. (I see you ha’ credit, here, And, that you can keepe coun?ell, I’ll not que?tion.) 35 Hee ?hall but be an vndertaker with mee, In a mo?t fea?ible bus’ne??e. It shall cost him Nothing. Ing. Good, Sr. Mer. Except he plea?e, but’s count’nance; (That I will haue) t’appeare in’t, to great men, For which I’ll make him one. Hee ?hall not draw 40 A ?tring of’s pur?e. I’ll driue his pattent for him. We’ll take in Cittizens, Commoners, and Aldermen, To beare the charge, and blow ’hem off againe, Like ?o many dead flyes, when ’tis carryed. The thing is for recouery of drown’d land, 45 Whereof the Crowne’s to haue his moiety, If it be owner; El?e, the Crowne and Owners To ?hare that moyety: and the recouerers T’enioy the tother moyety, for their charge. Ing. Thorowout England? Mer. Yes, which will ari?e 50 To eyghteene millions, ?euen the fir?t yeere: I haue computed all, and made my ?uruay Vnto an acre. I’ll beginne at the Pan, Not, at the skirts: as ?ome ha’ done, and lo?t, All that they wrought, their timber-worke, their trench, 55 Their bankes all borne away, or el?e fill’d vp By the next winter. Tut, they neuer went The way: I’ll haue it all. Ing. A gallant tract Of land it is! Mer. ’Twill yeeld a pound an acre. Wee mu?t let cheape, euer, at fir?t. But Sir, 60 This lookes too large for you, I ?ee. Come hither, We’ll haue a le??e. Here’s a plain fellow, you ?ee him, Has his black bag of papers, there, in Buckram, Wi’ not be ?old for th’Earledome of Pancridge: Draw, Gi’ me out one, by chance. Proiect. 4. Dog-skinnes? 65 Twelue thou?and pound! the very wor?t, at fir?t. [113] Fit. Pray, you let’s ?ee’t Sir. Mer. ’Tis a toy, a trifle! Fit. Trifle! 12. thou?and pound for dogs-skins? Mer. Yes, But, by my way of dre??ing, you mu?t know, Sir, And med’cining the leather, to a height 70 Of improu’d ware, like your Borachio Of Spaine, Sir. I can fetch nine thou?and for’t— Ing. Of the Kings glouer? Mer. Yes, how heard you that? Ing. Sir, I doe know you can. Mer. Within this houre: And re?erue halfe my ?ecret. Pluck another; 75 See if thou ha?t a happier hand: I thought ?o. Hee pluckes out the 2. Bottle-ale. Fit. Good, ?tay, friend, By bottle-ale, two and twenty thou?and pound? 80 Mer. Yes, Sir, it’s ca?t to penny-hal’penny-farthing, O’ the back-?ide, there you may ?ee it, read, I will not bate a Harrington o’ the ?umme. I’ll winne it i’ my water, and my malt, My furnaces, and hanging o’ my coppers, 85 The tonning, and the ?ubtilty o’ my ye?t; And, then the earth of my bottles, which I dig, Turne vp, and ?teepe, and worke, and neale, my ?elfe, To a degree of Porc’lane. You will wonder, At my proportions, what I will put vp 90 In ?euen yeeres! for ?o long time, I aske For my inuention. I will ?aue in cork, In my mere ?top’ling, ’boue three thou?and pound, Within that terme: by googing of ’hem out Iu?t to the ?ize of my bottles, and not ?licing, 95 There’s infinite lo??e i’ that. What ha?t thou there? O’ making wine of rai?ins: this is in hand, now, Hee drawes out another. Rai?ines. Ing. Is not that ?trange, Sr, to make wine of rai?ins? Mer. Yes, and as true a wine, as the wines of France, Or Spaine, or Italy, Looke of what grape 100 My rai?in is, that wine I’ll render perfect, As of the mu?catell grape, I’ll render mu?catell; Of the Canary, his; the Claret, his; So of all kinds: and bate you of the prices, Of wine, throughout the kingdome, halfe in halfe. 105 Ing. But, how, Sr, if you rai?e the other commodity, Ray?ins? Mer. Why, then I’ll make it out of blackberries: Fit. No, good Sir. Saue you the trouble, I’le not looke, nor heare 110 Of any, but your fir?t, there; the Drown’d-land: If’t will doe, as you ?ay. Mer. Sir, there’s not place, To gi’ you demon?tration of the?e things. [114] They are a little to ?ubtle. But, I could ?hew you Such a nece??ity in’t, as you mu?t be 115 But what you plea?e: again?t the receiu’d here?ie, That England beares no Dukes. Keepe you the land, Sr, The greatne??e of th’ e?tate ?hall throw’t vpon you. If you like better turning it to money, What may not you, Sr, purcha?e with that wealth? 120 Say, you ?hould part with two o’ your millions, To be the thing you would, who would not do’t? As I prote?t, I will, out of my diuident, Lay, for ?ome pretty principality, In Italy, from the Church: Now, you perhaps, 125 Fancy the ?moake of England, rather? But— Ha’ you no priuate roome, Sir, to draw to, T’enlarge our ?elues more vpon. Fit. O yes, Diuell! Mer. The?e, Sir, are bus’ne??es, aske to be carryed With caution, and in cloud. Fit. I apprehend, 130 They doe ?o, Sr. Diuell, which way is your Mi?tre??e? Pvg. Aboue, Sr. in her chamber. Fit. O that’s well. Then, this way, good, Sir. Mer. I ?hall follow you; Traines, Gi’ mee the bag, and goe you pre?ently, Commend my ?eruice to my Lady Tail-bu?h. 135 Tell her I am come from Court this morning; ?ay, I’haue got our bus’ne??e mou’d, and well: Intreat her, That ?hee giue you the four-?core Angels, and ?ee ’hem Ing. Sir, of what di?patch, He is! Do you marke? Mer. Ingine, when did you ?ee My cou?in Euer-ill? keepes he ?till your quarter? I’ the Bermudas? Ing. Yes, Sir, he was writing This morning, very hard. Mer. Be not you knowne to him, That I am come to Towne: I haue effected 146 A bu?ine??e for him, but I would haue it take him, Before he thinks for’t. Ing. Is it pa?t? Mer. Not yet. ’Tis well o’ the way. Ing. O Sir! your wor?hip takes Infinit paines. Mer. I loue Friends, to be actiue: 150 A ?luggish nature puts off man, and kinde. Ing. And ?uch a ble??ing followes it. Mer. I thanke My fate. Pray you let’s be priuate, Sir? Fit. In, here. Mer. Where none may interrupt vs. Fit. You heare, Diuel, Lock the ?treete-doores fa?t, and let no one in 155 (Except they be this Gentlemans followers) To trouble mee. Doe you marke? Yo’ haue heard and ?eene Something, to day; and, by it, you may gather Your Mi?tre??e is a fruite, that’s worth the ?tealing And therefore worth the watching. Be you ?ure, now [115] Yo’ haue all your eyes about you; and let in 161 No lace-woman; nor bawd, that brings French-ma?ques, And cut-works. See you? Nor old croanes, with wafers, To conuey letters. Nor no youths, di?guis’d Like country-wiues, with creame, and marrow-puddings. 165 Much knauery may be vented in a pudding, Much bawdy intelligence: They’are ?hrewd ciphers. Nor turne the key to any neyghbours neede; Be’t but to kindle fire, or begg a little, Put it out, rather: all out, to an a?he, 170 That they may ?ee no ?moake. Or water, ?pill it: Pvg. I’le take care, Sir: They ?ha’ not trouble you, if they would. Fit. Well, doe ?o. Act. II. Scene. II. Pvg. Mi?tre??e Fitzdottrell. Act. II. Scene. III. Fitz-dottrell. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. Pvg. How now, ?weet heart? what’s the matter? Mrs. Fi. Good! You are a ?tranger to the plot! you ?et not Your fancy Diuell, here, to tempt your wife, With all the in?olent vnciuill language, Or action, he could vent? Fit. Did you so, Diuell? 5 Mrs. Fit. Not you? you were not planted i’ your hole to heare him, Vpo’ the ?tayres? or here, behinde the hangings? I doe not know your qualities? he dur?t doe it, And you not giue directions? Fit. You shall ?ee, wife, Whether he dur?t, or no: and what it was, 10 I did direct. Her hu?band goes out, and enters presently with a cudgell vpon him. Pvg. Sweet Mi?tre??e, are you mad? Fit. You mo?t mere Rogue! you open manife?t Villaine! You Feind apparant you! you declar’d Hel-hound! Pvg. Good Sr. Fit. Good Knaue, good Ra?cal, and good Traitor. Now, I doe finde you parcel-Diuell, indeed. 15 Vpo’ the point of tru?t? I’ your fir?t charge? The very day o’ your probation? To tempt your Mi?tre??e? You doe ?ee, good wedlocke, How I directed him. Mrs. Fit. Why, where Sr? were you? [119] Fit. Nay, there is one blow more, for exerci?e: 20 After a pause. He ?trikes him againe I told you, I ?hould doe it. Pvg. Would you had done, Sir. Fit. O wife, the rare?t man! yet there’s another To put you in mind o’ the la?t, ?uch a braue man, wife! Within, he has his proiects, and do’s vent ’hem, and againe. The gallante?t! where you tentiginous? ha? 25 Would you be acting of the Incubus? Did her ?ilks ru?tling moue you? Pvg. Gentle Sir. Fit. Out of my ?ight. If thy name were not Diuell, Thou ?hould?t not ?tay a minute with me. In, Goe, yet ?tay: yet goe too. I am re?olu’d. 30 What I will doe: and you ?hall know’t afore-hand. Soone as the Gentleman is gone, doe you heare? I’ll helpe your li?ping. Wife, ?uch a man, wife! Diuell goes out. He has ?uch plots! He will make mee a Duke! No le??e, by heauen! ?ix Mares, to your coach, wife! 35 That’s your proportion! And your coach-man bald! Becau?e he ?hall be bare, inough. Doe not you laugh, We are looking for a place, and all, i’ the map What to be of. Haue faith, be not an Infidell. You know, I am not ea?ie to be gull’d. 40 I ?weare, when I haue my millions, el?e. I’ll make Another Dutche??e: if you ha’ not faith. Mrs. Fi. You’ll ha’ too much, I feare, in the?e fal?e ?pirits. Fit. Spirits? O, no such thing! wife! wit, mere wit! This man defies the Diuell, and all his works! 45 He dos’t by Ingine, and deui?es, hee! He has his winged ploughes, that goe with ?ailes, Will plough you forty acres, at once! and mills. Will ?pout you water, ten miles off! All Crowland Is ours, wife; and the fens, from vs, in Norfolke, 50 To the vtmo?t bound of Lincoln-?hire! we haue view’d it, Mrs. Fi. You ha’ ?trange phanta?ies! Act. II. Scene. IV. Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrell. Where are you, Sir? Fit. I ?ee thou ha?t no talent [120] This way, wife. Vp to thy gallery; doe, Chuck, Leaue vs to talke of it, who vnder?tand it. Mer. I thinke we ha’ found a place to fit you, now, Sir. Gloc’?ter. Fit. O, no, I’ll none! Mer. Why, Sr? Fit. Tis fatall. 5 Mer. That you ?ay right in. Spen?er, I thinke, the younger, Had his la?t honour thence. But, he was but Earle. Fit. I know not that, Sir. But Thomas of Wood?tocke, I’m ?ure, was Duke, and he was made away, At Calice; as Duke Humphrey was at Bury: 10 And Richard the third, you know what end he came too. Mer. By m’faith you are cunning i’ the Chronicle, Sir. Fit. No, I confe??e I ha’t from the Play-bookes, Ing. That’s ?ure, Sir. Mer. What ?ay you (to this then) He whi?pers him of a place. Fit. No, a noble hou?e. 15 Pretends to that. I will doe no man wrong. Mer. Then take one propo?ition more, and heare it As pa?t exception. Fit. What’s that? Mer. To be Duke of tho?e lands, you ?hall recouer; take Your title, thence, Sir, Duke of the Drown’d lands, 20 Or Drown’d-land. Fit. Ha? that la?t has a good ?ound! I like it well. The Duke of Drown’d-land? Ing. Yes; It goes like Groen-land, Sir, if you marke it. Mer. I, And drawing thus your honour from the worke, You make the reputation of that, greater; 25 And ?tay’t the longer i’ your name. Fit. ’Tis true. Drown’d-lands will liue in Drown’d-land! Mer. Yes, when you Ha’ no foote left; as that mu?t be, Sir, one day. And, though it tarry in your heyres, some forty, Fifty de?cents, the longer liuer, at la?t, yet, 30 Mu?t thru?t ’hem out on’t: if no quirk in law, Or odde Vice o’ their owne not do’it fir?t. Wee ?ee tho?e changes, daily: the faire lands, That were the Clyents, are the Lawyers, now: And tho?e rich Mannors, there, of good man Taylors, 35 Had once more wood vpon ’hem, then the yard, By which th’ were mea?ur’d out for the la?t purcha?e. [121] Nature hath the?e vici??itudes. Shee makes No man a ?tate of perpetuety, Sir. Fit. Yo’ are i’ the right. Let’s in then, and conclude. 40 Hee ?pies Diuell. I my ?ight, againe? I’ll talke with you, anon. Act. II. Scene. V. Pvg. Svre hee will geld mee, if I stay: or wor?e, Pluck out my tongue, one o’ the two. This Foole, There is no tru?ting of him: and to quit him, Were a contempt again?t my Chiefe, pa?t pardon. It was a ?hrewd di?heartning this, at fir?t! 5 Who would ha’ thought a woman ?o well harne?s’d, Or rather well-capari?on’d, indeed, That weares ?uch petticoates, and lace to her ?mocks, Broad ?eaming laces (as I ?ee ’hem hang there) And garters which are lo?t, if ?hee can ?hew ’hem, 10 Could ha’ done this? Hell! why is ?hee ?o braue? It cannot be to plea?e Duke Dottrel, ?ure, Nor the dull pictures, in her gallery, Nor her owne deare reflection, in her gla??e; Yet that may be: I haue knowne many of ’hem, 15 Beginne their plea?ure, but none end it, there: (That I con?ider, as I goe a long with it) They may, for want of better company, Or that they thinke the better, ?pend an houre; Two, three, or foure, di?cour?ing with their ?haddow: 20 But ?ure they haue a farther ?peculation. No woman dre?t with ?o much care, and ?tudy, Doth dre??e her ?elfe in vaine. I’ll vexe this probleme, A little more, before I leaue it, ?ure. Act. IJ. Scene. VI. Wittipol. Manly. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. This was a fortune, happy aboue thought, [122] That this ?hould proue thy chamber: which I fear’d Would be my greate?t trouble! this mu?t be The very window, and that the roome. Man. It is. I now remember, I haue often ?eene there 5 A woman, but I neuer mark’d her much. Wit. Where was your ?oule, friend? Man. Faith, but now, and then, Awake vnto tho?e obiects. Wit. You pretend ?o. Let mee not liue, if I am not in loue More with her wit, for this direction, now, 10 Then with her forme, though I ha’ prais’d that prettily, Since I ?aw her, and you, to day. Read tho?e. Hee giues him a paper, wherein is the copy of a Song. They’ll goe vnto the ayre you loue ?o well. Try ’hem vnto the note, may be the mu?ique Will call her ?ooner; light, ?hee’s here. Sing quickly. 15 Mrs. Fit. Either he vnder?tood him not: or el?e, The fellow was not faithfull in deliuery, Of what I bad. And, I am iu?tly pay’d, That might haue made my profit of his ?eruice, But, by mi?-taking, haue drawne on his enuy, 20 And done the wor?e defeate vpon my ?elfe. Manly ?ings, Pug enters perceiues it. Pvg. O! Is it ?o? Is there the enter-view? Haue I drawne to you, at la?t, my cunning Lady? The Diuell is an A??e! fool’d off! and beaten! 25 Nay, made an in?trument! and could not ?ent it! Well, ?ince yo’ haue ?howne the malice of a woman, No le??e then her true wit, and learning, Mi?tre??e, I’ll try, if little Pug haue the malignity To recompence it, and ?o ?aue his danger. 30 ’Tis not the paine, but the di?credite of it, The Diuell ?hould not keepe a body intire. Wit. Away, fall backe, ?he comes. Man. I’ll leaue you, Sir, The Ma?ter of my chamber. I haue bu?ine??e. Wit. Mrs! Mrs. Fi. You make me paint, Sr. Wit. The’are faire colours, 35 Lady, and naturall! I did receiue Some commands from you, lately, gentle Lady, [123] This Scene is acted at two windo’s as out of two contiguous buildings. But ?o perplex’d, and wrap’d in the deliuery, As I may feare t’haue mi?-interpreted: But mu?t make ?uit ?till, to be neere your grace. 40 Mrs. Fi. Who is there with you, Sr? Wit. None, but my ?elfe. It falls out. Lady, to be a deare friends lodging. Wherein there’s ?ome con?piracy of fortune With your poore ?eruants ble? affections. Mrs. Fi. Who was it ?ung? Wit. He, Lady, but hee’s gone, 45 Vpon my entreaty of him, ?eeing you Approach the window. Neither need you doubt him, Mrs. Fi. Sir, if you iudge me by this ?imple action, And by the outward habite, and complexion 50 Of ea?ine??e, it hath, to your de?igne; You may with Iu?tice, ?ay, I am a woman: And a ?trange woman. But when you ?hall plea?e, To bring but that concurrence of my fortune, To memory, which to day your ?elfe did vrge: 55 It may beget ?ome fauour like excu?e, Though none like rea?on. Wit. No, my tune-full Mi?tre??e? Then, ?urely, Loue hath none: nor Beauty any; Nor Nature violenced, in both the?e: With all who?e gentle tongues you ?peake, at once. 60 I thought I had inough remou’d, already, That ?cruple from your bre?t, and left yo’ all rea?on; When, through my mornings per?pectiue I ?hewd you A man ?o aboue excu?e, as he is the cau?e, Why any thing is to be done vpon him: 65 And nothing call’d an iniury, mi?-plac’d. I’rather, now had hope, to ?hew you how Loue By his acce??es, growes more naturall: And, what was done, this morning, with ?uch force Was but deuis’d to ?erue the pre?ent, then. 70 That ?ince Loue hath the honour to approach He grows more familiar in his Court-?hip. The?e ?i?ter-?welling bre?ts; and touch this ?oft, And ro?ie hand; hee hath the skill to draw Their Nectar forth, with ki??ing; and could make More wanton ?alts, from this braue promontory, 75 Downe to this valley, then the nimble Roe; playes with her paps, ki??eth her hands, &c. Could play the hopping Sparrow, ’bout the?e nets; And ?porting Squirell in the?e cri?ped groues; Bury him?elfe in euery Silke-wormes kell, Is here vnrauell’d; runne into the ?nare, 80 Which euery hayre is, ca?t into a curle, Doe but looke, on her eyes! They doe light— All that Loue’s world comprizeth! 95 Doe but looke on her hayre! it is bright, As Loue’s ?tarre, when it ri?eth! Doe but marke, her fore-head’s ?moother, Then words that ?ooth her! And from her arched browes, ?uch a grace 100 Sheds it ?elfe through the face; As alone, there triumphs to the life, All the gaine, all the good, of the elements ?trife! Haue you ?eene but a bright Lilly grow, Before rude hands haue touch’d it? 105 Haue you mark’d but the fall of the Snow, Before the ?oyle hath ?much’d it? Haue you felt the wooll o’ the Beuer? Or Swans downe, euer? Or, haue ?melt o’ the bud o’ the Bryer? 110 Or the Nard i’ the fire? Or, haue ta?ted the bag o’ the Bee? O, ?o white! O, ?o ?oft! O, ?o ?weet is ?hee! Act. II. Scene. VII. Fitz-dottrell. Wittipol. Pvg. Act. II. Scene. VIIJ. Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Ingine. Why ha you the?e excur?ions? where ha’ you beene, Sir? [126] Fit. Where I ha’ beene vex’d a little, with a toy! Mer. O Sir! no toyes mu?t trouble your graue head, Now it is growing to be great. You mu?t Be aboue all tho?e things. Fit. Nay, nay, ?o I will. 5 Mer. Now you are to’ard the Lord, you mu?t put off The man, Sir. Ing. He ?aies true. Mer. You mu?t do nothing As you ha’ done it heretofore; not know, Or ?alute any man. Ing. That was your bed-fellow, The other moneth. Mer. The other moneth? the weeke. 10 Thou do?t not know the priueledges, Ingine, Follow that Title; nor how ?wift: To day, When he has put on his Lords face once, then— Fit. Sir, for the?e things I ?hall doe well enough, There is no feare of me. But then, my wife is 15 Such an vntoward thing! ?hee’ll neuer learne How to comport with it. I am out of all Conceipt, on her behalfe. Mer. Be?t haue her taught, Sir. Fit. Where? Are there any Schooles for Ladies? Is there An Academy for women? I doe know, 20 For men, there was: I learn’d in it, my ?elfe, To make my legges, and doe my po?tures. Ing. Sir. Doe you remember the conceipt you had— O’ the Spani?h gowne, at home? Ingine whi?pers Merecraft, Merecraft turnes to Fitz-dottrel. Mer. Ha! I doe thanke thee, With all my heart, deare Ingine. Sir, there is 25 A certaine Lady, here about the Towne, An Engli?h widdow, who hath lately trauell’d, But ?hee’s call’d the Spaniard; cau?e ?he came Late?t from thence: and keepes the Spani?h habit. Such a rare woman! all our women heere, 30 That are of ?pirit, and fa?hion flocke, vnto her, As to their Pre?ident; their Law; their Canon; More then they euer did, to Oracle-Foreman. Such rare receipts ?hee has, Sir, for the face; Such oyles; such tinctures; such pomatumn’s; 35 Such perfumes; med’cines; quinte??ences, &c. And ?uch a Mi?tre??e of behauiour; [127] She knowes, from the Dukes daughter, to the Doxey, What is their due iu?t: and no more! Fit. O Sir! You plea?e me i’ this, more then mine owne greatne??e, 40 Where is ?hee? Let vs haue her. Mer. By your patience, We mu?t v?e meanes; ca?t how to be acquainted— Fit. Good, Sr, about it. Mer. We mu?t think how, fir?t. Fit. O! I doe not loue to tarry for a thing, When I haue a mind to’t. You doe not know me. 45 If you doe offer it. Mer. Your wife mu?t ?end Some pretty token to her, with a complement, And pray to be receiu’d in her good graces, All the great Ladies do’t. Fit. She ?hall, ?he ?hall, What were it be?t to be? Mer. Some little toy, 50 I would not haue it any great matter, Sir: A Diamant ring, of forty or fifty pound, Would doe it hand?omely: and be a gift Fit for your wife to ?end, and her to take. Fit. I’ll goe, and tell my wife on’t, ?treight. 55 Fitz-dottrel goes out. Mer. Why this Is well! The clothes we’haue now: But, where’s this Lady? If we could get a witty boy, now, Ingine; That were an excellent cracke: I could in?truct him, To the true height. For any thing takes this dottrel. Ing. Why, Sir your be?t will be one o’ the players! 60 Mer. No, there’s no tru?ting them. They’ll talke on’t, And tell their Poets. Ing. What if they doe? The ie?t will brooke the Stage. But, there be ?ome of ’hem Are very hone?t Lads. There’s Dicke Robin?on A very pretty fellow, and comes often 65 To a Gentlemans chamber, a friends of mine. We had The merrie?t ?upper of it there, one night, The Gentlemans Land-lady invited him To’a Go??ips fea?t. Now, he Sir brought Dick Robin?on, Dre?t like a Lawyers wife, among?t ’hem all; 70 (I lent him cloathes) but, to ?ee him behaue it; And lay the law; and carue; and drinke vnto ’hem; And then talke baudy: and ?end frolicks! o! It would haue bur?t your buttons, or not left you A ?eame. Mer. They ?ay hee’s an ingenious youth! 75 Ing. O Sir! and dre??es him?elfe, the be?t! beyond Forty o’ your very Ladies! did you ne’r ?ee him? Mer. No, I do ?eldome ?ee tho?e toyes. But thinke you, That we may haue him? Ing. Sir, the young Gentleman I tell you of, can command him. Shall I attempt it? 80 Mer. Yes, doe it. Enters againe. Fit. S’light, I cannot get my wife To part with a ring, on any termes: and yet, The ?ollen Monkey has two. Mer. It were ’gainst rea?on That you ?hould vrge it; Sir, ?end to a Gold-?mith, [128] Let not her lo?e by’t. Fit. How do’s ?he lo?e by’t? 85 Is’t not for her? Mer. Make it your owne bounty, It will ha’ the better ?ucce??e; what is a matter Of fifty pound to you, Sr. Fit. I’haue but a hundred Pieces, to ?hew here; that I would not breake— Mer. You ?hall ha’ credit, Sir. I’ll ?end a ticket 90 Vnto my Gold-?mith. Heer, my man comes too, To carry it fitly. How now, Traines? What birds? Traines enters. Tra. Your Cou?in Euer-ill met me, and has beat mee, Becau?e I would not tell him where you were: I thinke he has dogd me to the hou?e too. Fit. Well— 95 You ?hall goe out at the back-doore, then, Traines. You mu?t get Guilt-head hither, by ?ome meanes: Tra. ’Tis impo??ible! Fit. Tell him, we haue veni?on, I’ll g’ him a piece, and ?end his wife a Phe?ant. Tra. A Forre?t moues not, till that forty pound, 100 Yo’ had of him, la?t, be pai’d. He keepes more ?tirre, For that ?ame petty ?umme, then for your bond Of ?ixe; and Statute of eight hundred! Fit. Tell him Wee’ll hedge in that. Cry vp Fitz-dottrell to him, Double his price: Make him a man of mettall. 105 Tra. That will not need, his bond is current inough.
Act. III. Scene. I. Gvilt-head. Plvtarchvs. All this is to make you a Gentleman: I’ll haue you learne, Sonne. Wherefore haue I plac’d you With Sr. Poul Either-?ide, but to haue ?o much Law To keepe your owne? Be?ides, he is a Iu?tice, Here i’ the Towne; and dwelling, Sonne, with him, 5 You ?hal learne that in a yeere, ?hall be worth twenty Of hauing ?tay’d you at Oxford, or at Cambridge, Or ?ending you to the Innes of Court, or France. I am call’d for now in ha?te, by Ma?ter Meere-craft To tru?t Ma?ter Fitz-dottrel, a good man: 10 I’haue inquir’d him, eighteene hundred a yeere, (His name is currant) for a diamant ring Of forty, ?hall not be worth thirty (thats gain’d) And this is to make you a Gentleman! Plv. O, but good father, you tru?t too much! Gvi. Boy, boy, 15 We liue, by finding fooles out, to be tru?ted. Our ?hop-bookes are our pa?tures, our corn-grounds, We lay ’hem op’n for them to come into: And when wee haue ’hem there, wee driue ’hem vp In t’one of our two Pounds, the Compters, ?treight, 20 And this is to make you a Gentleman! Wee Citizens neuer tru?t, but wee doe coozen: For, if our debtors pay, wee coozen them; And if they doe not, then we coozen our ?elues. But that’s a hazard euery one mu?t runne, 25 That hopes to make his Sonne a Gentleman! Plv. I doe not wi?h to be one, truely, Father. In a de?cent, or two, wee come to be Iu?t ’itheir ?tate, fit to be coozend, like ’hem. And I had rather ha’ tarryed i’ your trade: 30 For, ?ince the Gentry ?corne the Citty ?o much, [130] Me thinkes we ?hould in time, holding together, And matching in our owne tribes, as they ?ay, Haue got an Act of Common Councell, for it, That we might coozen them out of rerum natura. 35 Gvi. I, if we had an Act fir?t to forbid The marrying of our wealthy heyres vnto ’hem: And daughters, with ?uch laui?h portions. That confounds all. Plv. And makes a Mungril breed, Father. And when they haue your money, then they laugh at you: 40 Or kick you downe the ?tayres. I cannot abide ’hem. I would faine haue ’hem coozen’d, but not tru?ted. Act. III. Scene. II. Mere-craft. Gvilt-head. O, is he come! I knew he would not faile me. Welcome, good Guilt-head, I mu?t ha’ you doe A noble Gentleman, a courte?ie, here: In a mere toy (?ome pretty Ring, or Iewell) Of fifty, or three?core pound (Make it a hundred, 5 And hedge in the la?t forty, that I owe you, And your owne price for the Ring) He’s a good man, Sr, And you may hap’ ?ee him a great one! Hee, Gvi. In truth, Sir I cannot. ’T has beene a long vacation with vs? Fit. Of what, I pray thee? of wit? or honesty? Tho?e are your Citizens long vacations. Plv. Good Father do not tru?t ’hem. Mer. Nay, Thom. Guilt-head. 15 Hee will not buy a courte?ie and begge it: Hee’ll rather pay, then pray. If you doe for him, You mu?t doe cheerefully. His credit, Sir, Is not yet pro?titute! Who’s this? thy ?onne? A pretty youth, what’s his name? Plv. Plutarchus, Sir, 20 Mer. Plutarchus! How came that about? Gvi. That yeere Sr, That I begot him, I bought Plutarch’s liues, And fell ?’ in loue with the booke, as I call’d my ?onne By’his name; In hope he ?hould be like him: And write the liues of our great men! Mer. I’ the City? [131] 25 And you do breed him, there? Gvi. His minde, Sir, lies Much to that way. Mer. Why, then, he is i’ the right way. Gvi. But, now, I had rather get him a good wife, And plant him i’ the countrey; there to v?e The ble??ing I ?hall leaue him: Mer. Out vpon’t! 30 And lo?e the laudable meanes, thou ha?t at home, heere, T’aduance, and make him a young Alderman? Buy him a Captaines place, for ?hame; and let him Into the world, early, and with his plume, And Scarfes, march through Cheap?ide, or along Cornehill, And by the vertue’of tho?e, draw downe a wife 36 There from a windo’, worth ten thou?and pound! Gvi. I haue plac’d him With Iustice Eyther?ide, to get so much law— Mer. As thou ha?t con?cience. Come, come, thou do?t wrong Pretty Plutarchus, who had not his name, For nothing: but was borne to traine the youth 45 Of London, in the military truth— That way his Genius lies. My Cou?in Euerill! Act. III. Scene. IIJ. Ever-ill. Plvtarchvs. Gvilt-head. O, are you heere, Sir? ’pray you let vs whi?per. Plv. Father, deare Father, tru?t him if you loue mee. Gvi. Why, I doe meane it, boy; but, what I doe, Mu?t not come ea?ily from mee: Wee mu?t deale With Courtiers, boy, as Courtiers deale with vs. 5 If I haue a Bu?ine??e there, with any of them, Why, I mu?t wait, I’am ?ure on’t, Son: and though My Lord di?patch me, yet his wor?hipfull man— Will keepe me for his ?port, a moneth, or two, To ?hew mee with my fellow Cittizens. 10 I mu?t make his traine long, and full, one quarter; And helpe the ?pectacle of his greatne??e. There, Nothing is done at once, but iniuries, boy: And they come head-long! an their good turnes moue not, [124] Or very ?lowly. Plv. Yet ?weet father, tru?t him. 15 Gvi. VVell, I will thinke. Ev. Come, you mu?t do’t, Sir. I am vndone el?e, and your Lady Tayle-bu?h Has ?ent for mee to dinner, and my cloaths Are all at pawne. I had ?ent out this morning, Before I heard you were come to towne, ?ome twenty 20 Of my epi?tles, and no one returne— Mere-craft tells him of his faults. Mer. VVhy, I ha’ told you o’ this. This comes of wearing Scarlet, gold lace, and cut-works! your fine gartring! VVith your blowne ro?es, Cou?in! and your eating Phe?ant, and Godwit, here in London! haunting 25 The Globes, and Mermaides! wedging in with Lords, Still at the table! and affecting lechery, In veluet! where could you ha’ contented your ?elfe With chee?e, ?alt-butter, and a pickled hering, I’ the Low-countries; there worne cloth, and fu?tian! 30 Beene ?atisfied with a leape o’ your Ho?t’s daughter, In garri?on, a wench of a ?toter! or, Your Sutlers wife, i’ the leaguer, of two blanks! You neuer, then, had runne vpon this flat, To write your letters mi??iue, and ?end out 35 Your priuy ?eales, that thus haue frighted off All your acquaintance; that they ?hun you at di?tance, VVorse, then you do the Bailies! Ev. Pox vpon you. I come not to you for coun?ell, I lacke money. Hee repines. Mer. You doe not thinke, what you owe me already? Ev. I? 40 They owe you, that meane to pay you. I’ll be?worne, Mer. I, yo’ are a right ?weet nature! Ev. Well, that’s all one! Mer. You’ll leaue this Empire, one day? 45 You will not euer haue this tribute payd, Your ?cepter o’ the ?word? Ev. Tye vp your wit, Doe, and prouoke me not— Mer. Will you, Sir, helpe, To what I ?hall prouoke another for you? Ev. I cannot tell; try me: I thinke I am not 50 So vtterly, of an ore vn-to-be-melted, But I can doe my ?elfe good, on occa?ions. They ioyne. Mer. Strike in then, for your part. Mr. Fitz-dottrel If I tran?gre??e in point of manners, afford mee Your be?t con?truction; I mu?t beg my freedome 55 From your affayres, this day. Fit. How, Sr. Mer. It is In ?uccour of this Gentlemans occa?ions, My kin?-man— Mere-craft pretends bu?ine??e. Fit. You’ll not do me that affront, Sr. Mer. I am ?ory you ?hould ?o interpret it, But, Sir, it ?tands vpon his being inue?ted 60 In a new office, hee has ?tood for, long: [133] Mere-craft describes the office of Dependancy. Ma?ter of the Dependances! A place Of my proiection too, Sir, and hath met Much oppo?ition; but the State, now, ?ee’s That great nece??ity of it, as after all 65 Their writing, and their ?peaking, again?t Duells, They haue erected it. His booke is drawne— For, ?ince, there will be differences, daily, ’Twixt Gentlemen; and that the roaring manner Is growne offen?iue; that tho?e few, we call 70 The ciuill men o’ the ?word, abhorre the vapours; Fit. In troth, a pretty place! Mer. A kinde of arbitrary Court ’twill be, Sir. 75 Fit. I ?hall haue matter for it, I beleeue, Ere it be long: I had a di?ta?t. Mer. But now, Sir, My learned councell, they mu?t haue a feeling, They’ll part, Sir, with no bookes, without the hand-gout Be oyld, and I mu?t furni?h. If’t be money, 80 To me ?treight. I am Mine, Mint and Exchequer. To ?upply all. What is’t? a hundred pound? Eve. No, th’ Harpey, now, ?tands on a hundred pieces. Mer. Why, he mu?t haue ’hem, if he will. To morrow, Sir, Will equally ?erue your occa?ion’s,—— 85 And therefore, let me obtaine, that you will yeeld To timing a poore Gentlemans di?tre??es, In termes of hazard.— Fit. By no meanes! Mer. I mu?t Get him this money, and will.— Fit. Sir, I prote?t, I’d rather ?tand engag’d for it my ?elfe: 90 Then you ?hould leaue mee. Mer. O good Sr. do you thinke So cour?ely of our manners, that we would, For any need of ours, be pre?t to take it: Though you be pleas’d to offer it. Fit. Why, by heauen, I meane it! Mer. I can neuer beleeue le??e. 95 But wee, Sir, mu?t pre?erue our dignity, As you doe publi?h yours. By your faire leaue, Sir. Hee offers to be gone. Fit. As I am a Gentleman, if you doe offer To leaue mee now, or if you doe refu?e mee, 99 I will not thinke you loue mee. Mer. Sir, I honour you. And with iu?t rea?on, for the?e noble notes, Of the nobility, you pretend too! But, Sir— (Eve. You’ll mar all with your finene??e) Fit. Why, that’s all one, if ’twere, Sir, but my fancy. 105 But I haue a Bu?ine??e, that perhaps I’d haue Brought to his office. Mer. O, Sir! I haue done, then; If hee can be made profitable, to you. [134] Fit. Yes, and it ?hall be one of my ambitions To haue it the fir?t Bu?ine??e? May I not? 110 Eve. So you doe meane to make’t, a perfect Bu?ine??e. Fit. Nay, I’ll doe that, a??ure you: ?hew me once. Mer. Sr, it concernes, the fir?t be a perfect Bu?ine??e, For his owne honour! Eve. I, and th’ reputation Too, of my place. Fit. Why, why doe I take this cour?e, el?e? 115 I am not altogether, an A??e, good Gentlemen, Wherefore ?hould I con?ult you? doe you thinke? To make a ?ong on’t? How’s your manner? tell vs. Mer. Doe, ?atisfie him: giue him the whole cour?e. Eve. Fir?t, by reque?t, or otherwi?e, you offer 120 Your Bu?ine??e to the Court: wherein you craue: The iudgement of the Ma?ter and the A?si?tants. Fit. Well, that’s done, now, what doe you vpon it? Eve. We ?treight Sr, haue recour?e to the ?pring-head; Vi?it the ground; and, ?o di?clo?e the nature: 125 If it will carry, or no. If wee doe finde, By our proportions it is like to proue A ?ullen, and blacke Bus’ne??e That it be Incorrigible; and out of, treaty; then. We file it, a Dependance! Fit. So ’tis fil’d. 130 What followes? I doe loue the order of the?e things. Eve. We then adui?e the party, if he be A man of meanes, and hauings, that forth-with, He ?ettle his e?tate: if not, at lea?t That he pretend it. For, by that, the world 135 Takes notice, that it now is a Dependance. And this we call, Sir, Publication. Fit. Very ?ufficient! After Publication, now? Eve. Then we grant out our Proce??e, which is diuers; Eyther by Chartell, Sir, or ore-tenus, 140 Wherein the Challenger, and Challengee Or (with your Spaniard) your Prouocador, And Prouocado, haue their ?euerall cour?es— Fit. I haue enough on’t! for an hundred pieces? Yes, for two hundred, vnder-write me, doe. 145 Your man will take my bond? Mer. That he will, ?ure. But, the?e ?ame Citizens, they are ?uch ?harks! There’s an old debt of forty, I ga’ my word For one is runne away, to the Bermudas, And he will hooke in that, or he wi’ not doe. 150 He whi?pers Fitz-dottrell a?ide. Fit. Why, let him. That and the ring, and a hundred pieces, Will all but make two hundred? Mer. No, no more, Sir. What ready Arithmetique you haue? doe you heare? And then Guilt-head. A pretty mornings worke for you, this? Do it, You ?hall ha’ twenty pound on’t. Gvi. Twenty pieces? [135] 155 (Plv. Good Father, do’t) Mer. You will hooke ?till? well, Shew vs your ring. You could not ha’ done this, now With gentlene??e, at fir?t, wee might ha’ thank’d you? But groane, and ha’ your courte?ies come from you Like a hard ?toole, and ?tinke? A man may draw 160 Your teeth out ea?ier, then your money? Come, Were little Guilt-head heere, no better a nature, I ?hould ne’r loue him, that could pull his lips off, now! He pulls Plutarchus by the lips. Plv. Yes, Sir. Mer. And went to the Court at Chri?tmas, and St. Georges-tide? 165 And lent the Lords-men, chaines? Plv. Of gold, and pearle, Sr. Mer. I knew, thou mu?t take, after ?ome body! Thou could’?t not be el?e. This was no ?hop-looke! I’ll ha’ thee Captaine Guilt-head, and march vp, And take in Pimlico, and kill the bu?h, 170 At euery tauerne! Thou shalt haue a wife, If ?mocks will mount, boy. How now? you ha’ there now Some Bri?to-?tone, or Corni?h counterfeit You’ld put vpon vs. He turns to old Guilt-head. Gvi. No, Sir I a??ure you: Looke on his lu?ter! hee will ?peake him?elfe! 175 I’le gi’ you leaue to put him i’ the Mill, H’is no great, large ?tone, but a true Paragon, H’has all his corners, view him well. Mer. H’is yellow. Gvi. Vpo’ my faith, Sr, o’ the right black-water, And very deepe! H’is ?et without a foyle, too. 180 Here’s one o’ the yellow-water, I’ll ?ell cheape. Mer. And what do you valew this, at? thirty pound? Gvi. No, Sir, he cost me forty, ere he was ?et. Mer. Turnings, you meane? I know your Equinocks: You’are growne the better Fathers of ’hem o’ late. 185 Well, where’t mu?t goe, ’twill be iudg’d, and, therefore, Looke you’t be right. You ?hall haue fifty pound for’t. Now to Fitz-dottrel. Not a deneer more! And, becau?e you would Haue things di?patch’d, Sir, I’ll goe pre?ently, Inquire out this Lady. If you thinke good, Sir. 190 Hauing an hundred pieces ready, you may Fit. I care not if I do! Mer. And di?patch all, 195 Together. Fit. There, th’are iu?t: a hundred pieces! I’ ha’ told ’hem ouer, twice a day, the?e two moneths. Hee turnes ’hem out together. And Euerill and hee fall to ?hare. Mer. Well, go, and ?eale, then, Sr, make your returne As ?peedy as you can. Eve. Come gi’ mee. Mer. Soft, Sir. Eve. Mary, and faire too, then. I’ll no delaying, Sir. 200 Mer. But, you will heare? Eve. Yes, when I haue my diuident. Mer. Theres forty pieces for you. Eve. What is this for? [136] Mer. Your halfe. You know, that Guilt-head mu?t ha’ twenty. Eve. And what’s your ring there? ?hall I ha’ none o’ that? Mer. O, thats to be giuen to a Lady! 205 Eve. Is’t ?o? Mer. By that good light, it is. Ev. Come, gi’ me Ten pieces more, then. Mer. Why? Ev. For Guilt-head? Sir, Do’you thinke, I’ll ’low him any ?uch ?hare: Mer. You mu?t. Eve. Mu?t I? Doe you your mu?ts, Sir, I’ll doe mine, You wi’ not part with the whole, Sir? Will you? Goe too. 210 Gi’ me ten pieces! Mer. By what law, doe you this? Eve. E’n Lyon-law, Sir, I mu?t roare el?e. Mer. Good! Eve. Yo’ haue heard, how th’ A??e made his diui?ions, wi?ely? Mer. And, I am he: I thanke you. Ev. Much good do you, Sr. Mer. I ?hall be rid o’ this tyranny, one day? Eve. Not, While you doe eate; and lie, about the towne, here; 216 And coozen i’ your bullions; and I ?tand Your name of credit, and compound your bu?ine??e; Adiourne your beatings euery terme; and make New parties for your proiects. I haue, now, 220 A pretty ta?que, of it, to hold you in Wi’ your Lady Tayle-bu?h: but the toy will be, How we ?hall both come off? Mer. Leaue you your doubting. And doe your portion, what’s a??ign’d you: I Neuer fail’d yet. Eve. With reference to your aydes? 225 You’ll ?till be vnthankfull. Where ?hall I meete you, anon? You ha’ ?ome feate to doe alone, now, I ?ee; You wi?h me gone, well, I will finde you out, And bring you after to the audit. Mer. S’light! There’s Ingines ?hare too, I had forgot! This raigne 230 Is too-too-vn?uportable! I mu?t Quit my ?elfe of this va??alage! Ingine! welcome. Act. IIJ. Scene. IV. Mere-craft. Ingine. VVittipol. Act. IIJ. Scene. V. Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Pvg. Return’d ?o ?oone? Fit. Yes, here’s the ring: I ha’ ?eal’d. But there’s not ?o much gold in all the row, he ?aies— Till’t come fro’ the Mint. ’Tis tane vp for the game?ters. Mer. There’s a ?hop-?hift! plague on ’hem. Fit. He do’s ?weare it. Mer. He’ll ?weare, and for?weare too, it is his trade, 5 You ?hould not haue left him. Fit. S’lid, I can goe backe, And beat him, yet. Mer. No, now let him alone. Fit. I was ?o earne?t, after the maine Bu?ine??e, To haue this ring, gone. Mer. True, and ’tis time. I’haue learned, Sir, ?in’ you went, her Ladi-?hip eats 10 With the Lady Tail-bu?h, here, hard by. Fit. I’ the lane here? Mer. Yes, if you’had a ?eruant, now of prefence, Well cloth’d, and of an aËry voluble tongue, Neither too bigge, or little for his mouth, That could deliuer your wiues complement; 15 To ?end along withall. Fit. I haue one Sir, A very hand?ome, gentleman-like-fellow, That I doe meane to make my Dutche??e V?her— I entertain’d him, but this morning, too: I’ll call him to you. The wor?t of him, is his name! 20 Mer. She’ll take no note of that, but of his me??age. [139] Hee ?hewes him his Pug. Fit. Diuell! How like you him, Sir. Pace, go a little. Let’s ?ee you moue. Mer. He’ll ?erue, Sr, giue it him: And let him goe along with mee, I’ll helpe To pre?ent him, and it. Fit. Looke, you doe ?irah, 25 Di?charge this well, as you expect your place. Do’you heare, goe on, come off with all your honours. Giues him in?tructions. I would faine ?ee him, do it. Mer. Tru?t him, with it; Fit. Remember ki??ing of your hand, and an?wering With the French-time, in flexure of your body. 30 I could now ?o in?truct him—and for his words— Mer. I’ll put them in his mouth. Fit. O, but I haue ’hem O’ the very Academies. Mer. Sir, you’ll haue v?e for ’hem, Fit. S’light, that’ll be iu?t play-time. 35 He longs to ?ee the play. It cannot be, I mu?t not lo?e the play! Mer. Sir, but you mu?t, if ?he appoint to ?it. And, ?hee’s pre?ident. Fit. S’lid, it is the Diuell. Becau?e it is the Diuell. Mer. And, ’twere his Damme too, you mu?t now apply Your ?elfe, Sir, to this, wholly; or lo?e all. 40 Fit. If I could but ?ee a piece— Mer. Sr. Neuer think on’t. Fit. Come but to one act, and I did not care— But to be ?eene to ri?e, and goe away, To vex the Players, and to puni?h their Poet— Keepe him in awe! Mer. But ?ay, that he be one, 45 Wi’ not be aw’d! but laugh at you. How then? Fit. Then he ?hall pay for his’dinner him?elfe. Mer. Perhaps, He would doe that twice, rather then thanke you. Come, get the Diuell out of your head, my Lord, (I’ll call you ?o in priuate ?till) and take 50 Your Lord-?hip i’ your minde. You were, ?weete Lord, He puts him in mind of his quarrell. In talke to bring a Bu?ine??e to the Office. Fit. Yes. Mer. Why ?hould not you, Sr, carry it o’ your ?elfe, Before the Office be vp? and ?hew the world, You had no need of any mans direction; 55 In point, Sir, of ?ufficiency. I ?peake Again?t a kin?man, but as one that tenders Your graces good. Fit. I thanke you; to proceed— Mer. To Publications: ha’ your Deed drawne pre?ently. And leaue a blancke to put in your Feoffees 60 One, two, or more, as you ?ee cau?e— Fit. I thank you Heartily, I doe thanke you. Not a word more, He is angry with him?elfe. Mer. Come, we mu?t this way. Pvg. How far is’t. Mer. Hard by here Ouer the way. Now, to atchieue this ring, From this ?ame fellow, that is to a??ure it; [140] He thinkes how to coozen the bearer, of the ring. Before hee giue it. Though my Spani?h Lady, Be a young Gentleman of meanes, and ?corne 70 To ?hare, as hee doth ?ay, I doe not know How ?uch a toy may tempt his Lady-?hip: And therefore, I thinke be?t, it be a??ur’d. Pvg. Sir, be the Ladies braue, wee goe vnto? Mer. O, yes. Pvg. And ?hall I ?ee ’hem, and ?peake to ’hem? 75 Mer. What el?e? ha’ you your fal?e-beard about you? Traines. Questions his man. Tra. Yes. Mer. And is this one of your double Cloakes? Tra. The be?t of ’hem. Mer. Be ready then. Sweet Pitfall! Act. IIJ. Scene. VI. Mere-craft. Pitfall. Pvg. Come, I mu?t bu??e— Offers to ki??e. Pit. Away. Mer. I’ll ?et thee vp again. Neuer feare that: can?t thou get ne’r a bird? No Thru?hes hungry? Stay, till cold weather come, I’ll help thee to an Ou?ell, or, a Field-fare. Who’s within, with Madame? Pit. I’ll tell you straight. 5 She runs in, in ha?te: he followes. Mer. Plea?e you ?tay here, a while Sir, I’le goe in. Pvg. I doe ?o long to haue a little venery, While I am in this body! I would ta?t Of euery ?inne, a little, if it might be After the maner of man! Sweet-heart! Pit. What would you, Sr? 10 Pug leaps at Pitfall’s comming in. Pvg. Nothing but fall in, to you, be your Black-bird, My pretty pit (as the Gentleman ?aid) your Thro?tle: Lye tame, and taken with you; here’is gold! To buy you ?o much new ?tuffes, from the ?hop, As I may take the old vp— Tra. You mu?t send, Sir. 15 The Gentleman the ring. Traine’s in his fal?e cloak, brings a fal?e me??age, and gets the ring. Pvg. There ’tis. Nay looke, Will you be fooli?h, Pit. Pit. This is ?trange rudene??e. Pvg. Deare Pit. Pit. I’ll call, I ?weare. Mere-craft followes pre?ently, and askes for it. Mer. Where are you, Sr? Is your ring ready? Goe with me. Pvg. I ?ent it you. Mer. Me? When? by whom? Pvg. A fellow here, e’en now, 20 Came for it i’ your name. Mer. I ?ent none, ?ure. My meaning euer was, you ?hould deliuer it, Your ?elfe: So was your Ma?ters charge, you know. Ent. Train’s as him?elfe againe. What fellow was it, doe you know him? Pvg. Here, But now, he had it. Mer. Saw you any? Traines? 25 Tra. Not I. Pvg. The Gentleman ?aw him. Mer. Enquire. Pvg. I was ?o earne?t vpon her, I mark’d not! The Diuell confe??eth him?elfe coozen’d. My diuelli?h Chiefe has put mee here in flesh, [141] To ?hame mee! This dull body I am in, I perceiue nothing with! I offer at nothing, 30 That will ?ucceed! Tra. Sir, ?he ?aw none, ?he ?aies. Pvg. Satan him?elfe, has tane a ?hape t’abu?e me. It could not be el?e. Mer. This is aboue ?trange! Mere-craft accu?eth him of negligence. That you ?hould be ?o retchle??e. What’ll you do, Sir? How will you an?wer this, when you are que?tion’d? 35 Pvg. Run from my fle?h, if I could: put off mankind! This’s ?uch a ?corne! and will be a new exerci?e, For my Arch-Duke! Woe to the ?euerall cudgells, Mu?t suffer, on this backe! Can you no ?uccours? Sir? 39 He asketh ayde. Mer. Alas! the v?e of it is ?o pre?ent. Pvg. I aske, Sir, credit for another, but till to morrow? Mer. There is not ?o much time, Sir. But how euer, The lady is a noble Lady, and will (To ?aue a Gentleman from check) be intreated Mere-craft promi?eth faintly, yet comforts him. Pvg. Do you thinke ?o? 45 Will ?hee be won? Mer. No doubt, to ?uch an office, It will be a Lady’s brauery, and her pride. Pvg. And not be knowne on’t after, vnto him? Mer. That were a treachery! Vpon my word, Be confident. Returne vnto your ma?ter, 50 My Lady Pre?ident ?its this after-noone, Ha’s tane the ring, commends her ?eruices Vnto your Lady-Dutche??e. You may ?ay She’s a ciuill Lady, and do’s giue her All her re?pects, already: Bad you, tell her 55 She liues, but to receiue her wi?h’d commandements, And haue the honor here to ki??e her hands: For which ?hee’ll ?tay this houre yet. Ha?ten you Your Prince, away. Pvg. And Sir, you will take care Th’ excu?e be perfect? Mer. You confe??e your feares. 60 The Diuel is doubtfull. Too much. Pvg. The ?hame is more, I’ll quit you of either. [142] Act. IIIJ. Scene. I. Taile-bvsh. Mere-craft. Manly. A Pox vpo’ referring to Commi?sioners, I’had rather heare that it were pa?t the ?eales: Your Courtiers moue ?o Snaile-like i’ your Bu?ine??e. Wuld I had begun wi’ you. Mer. We mu?t moue, Madame, in order, by degrees: not iump. 5 Tay. Why, there was Sr. Iohn Monie-man could iump A Bu?ine??e quickely. Mer. True, hee had great friends, Tay. Doe they like it then? Mer. They ha’ ?ent the Spani?h-Lady, To gratulate with you— Tay. I must ?end ’hem thankes And ?ome remembrances. Mer. That you mu?t, and vi?it ’hem. 15 Where’s Ambler? Tay. Lo?t, to day, we cannot heare of him. Mer. Not Madam? Tay. No in good faith. They ?ay he lay not At home, to night. And here has fall’n a Bu?ine??e Betweene your Cou?in, and Ma?ter Manly, has Vnquieted vs all. Mer. So I heare, Madame. 20 Pray you how was it? Tay. Troth, it but appeares Ill o’ your Kin?mans part. You may haue heard, That Manly is a ?utor to me, I doubt not: Mer. I gue?s’d it, Madame. Tay. And it ?eemes, he tru?ted Your Cou?in to let fall some faire reports 25 Of him vnto mee. Mer. Which he did! Tay. So farre From it, as hee came in, and tooke him rayling Again?t him. Mer. How! And what said Manly to him? Tay. Inough, I doe a??ure you: and with that ?corne Of him, and the iniury, as I doe wonder 30 How Euerill bore it! But that guilt vndoe’s Many mens valors. Mer. Here comes Manly. Man. Madame, [143] I’ll take my leaue— Manly offers to be gone. Tay. You ?ha’ not goe, i’ faith. Man. Let me pray your Ladi?hip, 35 Lay your commands on me, some other time. Tay. Now, I prote?t: and I will haue all piec’d, And friends againe. Man. It will be but ill ?older’d! Tay. You are too much affected with it. Man. I cannot Madame, but thinke on’t for th’ iniu?tice. Tay. Sir, 40 His kin?man here is ?orry. Mer. Not I, Madam, I am no kin to him, wee but call Cou?ins, Mere-craft denies him. And if wee were, Sir, I haue no relation Vnto his crimes. Man. You are not vrged with ’hem. I can accu?e, Sir, none but mine owne iudgement, 45 For though it were his crime, ?o to betray mee: I am ?ure, ’twas more mine owne, at all to tru?t him. But he, therein, did v?e but his old manners, And fauour ?trongly what hee was before. Tay. Come, he will change! Man. Faith, I mu?t neuer think it. 50 Nor were it rea?on in mee to expect That for my ?ake, hee ?hould put off a nature Hee ?uck’d in with his milke. It may be Madam, Deceiuing tru?t, is all he has to tru?t to: If ?o, I ?hall be loath, that any hope 55 Of mine, ?hould bate him of his meanes. Tay. Yo’ are ?harp, Sir. This act may make him hone?t! Man. If he were To be made hone?t, by an act of Parliament, I ?hould not alter, i’ my faith of him. Tay. Eyther-?ide! Welcome, deare Either-?ide! how ha?t thou done, good wench? She spies the Lady Eyther-?ide. Thou ha?t beene a ?tranger! I ha’ not ?eene thee, this weeke. 61 Act. IIIJ. Scene. II. Eitherside. {To them Ever your ?eruant, Madame. Tay. Where hast ’hou beene? [144] I did ?o long to ?ee thee. Eit. Vi?iting, and ?o tyr’d! I prote?t, Madame, ’tis a mon?trous trouble! Tay. And ?o it is. I ?weare I mu?t to morrow, Beginne my vi?its (would they were ouer) at Court. 5 It tortures me, to thinke on ’hem. Eit. I doe heare You ha’ cau?e, Madam, your ?ute goes on. Tay. Who told thee? Eyt. One, that can tell: Mr. Eyther-?ide. Tay. O, thy hu?band! Yes, faith, there’s life in’t, now: It is referr’d. If wee once ?ee it vnder the ?eales, wench, then, 10 Haue with ’hem for the great Carroch, ?ixe hor?es, And the two Coach-men, with my Ambler, bare, And my three women: wee will liue, i’ faith, The examples o’ the towne, and gouerne it. I’le lead the fa?hion ?till. Eit. You doe that, now, 15 Sweet Madame. Tay. O, but then, I’ll euery day Bring vp ?ome new deuice. Thou and I, Either-?ide, Will fir?t be in it. I will giue it thee; And they ?hall follow vs. Thou ?halt, I ?weare, Weare euery moneth a new gowne, out of it. 20 Eith. Thanke you good Madame. Tay. Pray thee call mee Taile-bu?h As I thee, Either-?ide: I not loue this, Madame. Ety. Then I prote?t to you, Taile-bu?h, I am glad Your Bu?ine??e ?o ?ucceeds. Tay. Thanke thee, good Eyther-?ide. Ety. But Ma?ter Either-?ide tells me, that he likes 25 Your other Bu?ine??e better. Tay. Which? Eit. O’ the Tooth-picks. Tay. I neuer heard on’t. Eit. Aske Mr. Mere-craft. Mer. Madame? H’is one, in a word, I’ll tru?t his malice, With any mans credit, I would haue abus’d! Mere-craft hath whi?per’d with the while. Man. Sir, if you thinke you doe plea?e mee, in this, 30 You are deceiu’d! Mer. No, but becau?e my Lady, Nam’d him my kin?man; I would ?atisfie you, What I thinke of him: and pray you, vpon it To iudge mee! Man. So I doe: that ill mens friend?hip, Is as vnfaithfull, as them?elues. Tay. Doe you heare? 35 Ha’ you a Bu?ine??e about Tooth-picks? Mer. Yes, Madame. Did I ne’r tell’t you? I meant to haue offer’d it Your Lady-?hip, on the perfecting the pattent. [145] Tay. How is’t! Mer. For ?eruing the whole ?tate with Tooth-picks; The Proiect for Tooth-picks. (Somewhat an intricate Bu?ine??e to di?cour?e) but—40 I ?hew, how much the Subiect is abus’d, Fir?t, in that one commodity? then what di?ea?es, And putrefactions in the gummes are bred, By tho?e are made of adultrate, and fal?e wood? My plot, for reformation of the?e, followes. 45 To haue all Tooth-picks, brought vnto an office, There ?eal’d; and ?uch as counterfait ’hem, mulcted. And la?t, for venting ’hem to haue a booke Printed, to teach their v?e, which euery childe Shall haue throughout the kingdome, that can read, 50 And learne to picke his teeth by. Which beginning Earely to practice, with ?ome other rules, Traines his man whi?pers him. Tay. Good faith, it ?ounds a very pretty Bus’ne??e! 56 Eit. So Mr. Either-?ide ?aies, Madame. Mer. The Lady is come. Tay. Is ?he? Good, waite vpon her in. My Ambler Was neuer ?o ill ab?ent. Either-?ide, How doe I looke to day? Am I not dre?t, 60 Spruntly? She lookes in her gla??e. Eit. Yes, verily, Madame. Tay. Pox o’ Madame, Will you not leaue that? Eit. Yes, good Taile-bu?h. Tay. So? Sounds not that better? What vile Fucus is this, Thou ha?t got on? Eit. ’Tis Pearle. Tay. Pearle? Oy?ter-?hells: As I breath, Either-side, I know’t. Here comes 65 (They say) a wonder, ?irrah, has beene in Spaine! Will teach vs all; ?hee’s ?ent to mee, from Court. To gratulate with mee! Pr’y thee, let’s ob?erue her, What faults ?he has, that wee may laugh at ’hem, When ?he is gone. Eit. That we will heartily, Tail-bu?h. 70 Wittipol enters. Tay. O, mee! the very Infanta of the Giants! Act. IIIJ. Scene. IJI. Mere-craft. Wittipol. } to them. Act. IIIJ. Scene. IV. Fitz-dottrel. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrell. Pvg. } to them. Your ?eruant, Madame! VVit. How now? Friend? offended, That I haue found your haunt here? Wittipol whi?pers with Manly. Man. No, but wondring At your ?trange fa?hion’d venture, hither. VVit. It is To ?hew you what they are, you ?o pur?ue. Man. I thinke ’twill proue a med’cine again?t marriage; To know their manners. VVit. Stay, and profit then. 6 Mer. The Lady, Madame, whose Prince has brought her, here, To be in?tructed. Hee pre?ents Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. VVit. Plea?e you ?it with vs, Lady. Mer. That’s Lady-Pre?ident. Fit. A goodly woman! I cannot ?ee the ring, though. Mer. Sir, ?he has it. 10 Tay. But, Madame, the?e are very feeble rea?ons! Wit. So I vrg’d Madame, that the new complexion, Now to come forth, in name o’ your Ladi?hip’s fucus, Had no ingredient— Tay. But I dur?t eate, I a??ure you. Wit. So do they, in Spaine. Tay. Sweet Madam be ?o liberall, 15 To giue vs ?ome o’ your Spani?h Fucu?es! VVit. They are infinit, Madame. Tay. So I heare, they haue VVater of Gourdes, of Radi?h, the white Beanes, Eit. How, her Ladi?hip has ?tudied 25 Al excellent things! VVit. But ordinary, Madame. No, the true rarities, are th’ Aluagada, And Argentata of Queene Isabella! Tay. I, what are their ingredients, gentle Madame? Wit. Your Allum Scagliola, or Pol-dipedra; 30 And Zuccarino; Turpentine of Abezzo, Wash’d in nine waters: Soda di leuante, Or your Ferne a?hes; Beniamin di gotta; Gra??o di ?erpe; Porcelletto marino; Oyles of Lenti?co; Zucche Mugia; make 35 The admirable Verni?h for the face, Giues the right lu?ter; but two drops rub’d on VVith a piece of ?carlet, makes a Lady of ?ixty Looke at ?ixteen. But, aboue all, the water Of the white Hen, of the Lady E?tifanias! 40 Tay. O, I, that ?ame, good Madame, I haue heard of: How is it done? VVit. Madame, you take your Hen, Plume it, and skin it, clean?e it o’ the inwards: Then chop it, bones and all: adde to foure ounces Of Carrauicins, Pipitas, Sope of Cyprus, 45 Make the decoction, ?treine it. Then di?till it, And keep it in your galley-pot well glidder’d: Three drops pre?erues from wrinkles, warts, ?pots, moles, Blemi?h, or Sun-burnings, and keepes the skin In decimo ?exto, euer bright, and ?mooth, 50 As any looking-gla??e; and indeed, is call’d The Virgins milke for the face, Oglio reale; Tay. Deare Madame, will you let vs be familiar? Wit. Your Ladi?hips ?eruant. Mer. How do you like her. Fit. Admirable! But, yet, I cannot ?ee the ring. Hee is iealous about his ring, and Mere-craft deliuers it. Pvg. Sir. Mer. I mu?t Deliuer it, or marre all. This foole’s ?o iealous. 60 Madame—Sir, weare this ring, and pray you take knowledge, ’Twas ?ent you by his wife. And giue her thanks, Doe not you dwindle, Sir, beare vp. Pvg. I thanke you, Sir. Tay. But for the manner of Spaine! Sweet, Madame, let vs Be bold, now we are in: Are all the Ladies, 65 There, i’ the fa?hion? VVit. None but Grandee’s, Madame, O’ the cla?p’d traine, which may be worne at length, too, Or thus, vpon my arme. Tay. And doe they weare Cioppino’s all? VVit. If they be dre?t in punto, Madame. Eit. Guilt as tho?e are? madame? Wit. Of Gold?miths work, madame; [149] 70 And ?et with diamants: and their Spani?h pumps Of perfum’d leather. Tai. I ?hould thinke it hard To go in ’hem, madame. Wit. At the fir?t, it is, madame. Tai. Do you neuer fall in ’hem? Wit. Neuer. Ei. I ?weare, I ?hould Six times an houre. Wit. But you haue men at hand, ?still, To helpe you, if you fall? Eit. Onely one, madame, 76 The Guardo-duennas, ?uch a little old man, Eit. Alas! hee can doe nothing! this! Wit. I’ll tell you, madame, I ?aw i’ the Court of Spaine once, A Lady fall i’ the Kings ?ight, along, 80 And there ?hee lay, flat ?pred, as an Vmbrella, Her hoope here crack’d; no man dur?t reach a hand To helpe her, till the Guarda-duenn’as came, VVho is the per?on onel’ allow’d to touch A Lady there: and he but by this finger. 85 Eit. Ha’ they no ?eruants, madame, there? nor friends? Wit. An E?cudero, or ?o madame, that wayts Vpon ’hem in another Coach, at di?tance, And when they walke, or daunce, holds by a hand-kercher, Neuer pre?umes to touch ’hem. Eit. This’s ?ciruy! 90 And a forc’d grauity! I doe not like it. I like our owne much better. Tay. ’Tis more French, And Courtly ours. Eit. And ta?ts more liberty. VVe may haue our doozen of vi?iters, at once, Make loue t’vs. Tay. And before our husbands? Eit. Hu?band? 95 As I am hone?t, Tayle-bu?h I doe thinke If no body ?hould loue mee, but my poore husband, I ?hould e’n hang my ?elfe. Tay. Fortune forbid, wench: So faire a necke ?hould haue ?o foule a neck-lace. Eit. ’Tis true, as I am hand?ome! Wit. I receiu’d, Lady, 100 A token from you, which I would not bee Rude to refu?e, being your fir?t remembrance. (Fit. O, I am ?atisfied now! Mer. Do you ?ee it, Sir.) Wittipol giues it Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. Mrs. Fit. Sure I haue heard this tongue. Mer. What do you meane, Sr? Mere-craft murmures, Wit. Would you ha’ me mercenary? We’ll recompence it anon, in ?omewhat el?e. He is ?atisfied, now he ?ees it. Fit. I doe not loue to be gull’d, though in a toy. VVife, doe you heare? yo’ are come into the Schole, wife, VVhere you may learne, I doe perceiue it, any thing! 111 How to be fine, or faire, or great, or proud, Or what you will, indeed, wife; heere ’tis taught. And I am glad on’t, that you may not ?ay, Another day, when honours come vpon you, 115 You wanted meanes. I ha’ done my parts: beene, Today at fifty pound charge, fir?t, for a ring, [150] He vpbraids her, with his Bill of co?ts. To get you entred. Then left my new Play, To wait vpon you, here, to ?ee’t confirm’d. That I may ?ay, both to mine owne eyes, and eares, 120 Sen?es, you are my witne??e, ?ha’ hath inioy’d All helps that could be had, for loue, or money— Mrs. Fit. To make a foole of her. Fit. Wife, that’s your malice, The wickedne??e o’ you nature to interpret Your husbands kinde??e thus. But I’ll not leaue; 125 Still to doe good, for your deprau’d affections: Intend it. Bend this ?tubborne will; be great. Tay. Good Madame, whom do they v?e in me??ages? Wit. They comonly v?e their ?laues, Madame. Tai. And do’s your Ladi?hip. Thinke that ?o good, Madame? Wit. no, indeed, Madame; I, 130 Therein preferre the fa?hion of England farre, Of your young delicate Page, or di?creet V?her. Fit. And I goe with your Ladi?hip, in opinion, Directly for your Gentleman-v?her. There’s not a finer Officer goes on ground. 135 Wit. If hee be made and broken to his place, once. Fit. Nay, ?o I pre?uppo?e him. Wit. And they are fitter Managers too, Sir, but I would haue ’hem call’d Our E?cudero’s. Fit. Good. Wit. Say, I ?hould ?end To your Ladi?hip, who (I pre?ume) has gather’d 140 All the deare ?ecrets, to know how to make Pa?tillos of the Dutche??e of Braganza, Coquettas, Almoiauana’s, Mantecada’s, Alcoreas, Mu?taccioli; or ?ay it were The Peladore of Isabella, or balls 145 Again?t the itch, or aqua nanfa, or oyle Of Ie??amine for gloues, of the Marque??e Muja: Or for the head, and hayre: why, the?e are offices. Fit. Fit for a gentleman, not a ?laue. They onely Might aske for your pineti, Spani?h-cole, 150 To burne, and ?weeten a roome; but the Arcana Of Ladies Cabinets— Fit. Should be el?e-where tru?ted. Yo’ are much about the truth. Sweet honoured Ladies, He enters him?elfe with the Ladies. Let mee fall in wi’ you. I’ha’ my female wit, As well as my male. And I doe know what ?utes 155 A Lady of ?pirit, or a woman of fa?hion! Wit. And you would haue your wife ?uch. Fit. Yes, Madame, aËrie, Light; not to plaine di?hone?ty, I meane: Wit. I take you, Sir. H’has rea?on Ladies. I’ll not giue this ru?h 160 For any Lady, that cannot be hone?t Within a thred. Tay. Yes, Madame, and yet venter As far for th’other, in her Fame— Wit. As can be; Coach it to Pimlico; daunce the Saraband; [151] Heare, and talke bawdy; laugh as loud, as a larum; 165 Squeake, ?pring, do any thing. Eit. In young company, Madame. Tay. Or afore gallants. If they be braue, or Lords, A woman is ingag’d. Fit. I ?ay ?o, Ladies, It is ciuility to deny vs nothing. Pvg. You talke of a Vniuer?ity! why, Hell is 170 A Grammar-?choole to this! The Diuell admires him. Eit. But then, Shee mu?t not lo?e a looke on ?tuffes, or cloth, Madame. Tay. Nor no cour?e fellow. Wit. She mu?t be guided, Madame By the clothes he weares, and company he is in; Whom to ?alute, how farre— Fit. I ha’ told her this. 175 And how that bawdry too, vpo’ the point, Is (in it ?elfe) as ciuill a di?cour?e— Wit. As any other affayre of fle?h, what euer. Fit. But ?hee will ne’r be capable, ?hee is not So much as comming, Madame; I know not how 180 She lo?es all her opportunities With hoping to be forc’d. I’haue entertain’d He ?hews his Pug. A gentleman, a younger brother, here, Whom I would faine breed vp, her E?cudero, Again?t ?ome expectation’s that I haue, 185 And ?he’ll not countenance him. Wit. What’s his name? Fit. Diuel, o’ Darbi-?hire. Eit. Ble??e us from him! Tay. Diuell? Mrs. Fi. What you plea?e, Ladies. Tay. De-uile’s a prettier name! Eit. And ?ounds, me thinks, As it came in with the Conquerour— Man. Ouer ?mocks! 190 What things they are? That nature ?hould be at lea?ure Euer to make ’hem! my woing is at an end. Manly goes out with indignation. Wit. What can he do? Eit. Let’s heare him. Tay. Can he manage? Fit. Plea?e you to try him, Ladies. Stand forth, Diuell. Pvg. Was all this but the preface to my torment? 195 Fit. Come, let their Ladi?hips ?ee your honours. Eit. O, Hee makes a wicked leg. Tay. As euer I ?aw! Wit. Fit for a Diuell. Tay. Good Madame, call him De-uile. Wit. De-uile, what property is there mo?t required I’ your conceit, now, in the E?cudero? 200 They begin their Catechi?me. Fit. Why doe you not speake? Pvg. A ?etled di?creet pa?e, Madame. Wit. I thinke, a barren head, Sir, Mountaine-like, To be expos’d to the cruelty of weathers— Fit. I, for his Valley is beneath the wa?te, Madame, And to be fruitfull there, it is ?ufficient. 205 Dulne??e vpon you! Could not you hit this? Pvg. Good Sir— He ?trikes him. Wit. He then had had no barren head. You daw him too much, in troth, Sir. Fit. I mu?t walke Pvg. O, Chiefe, call mee to Hell againe, and free mee. 210 The Diuell prayes. Fit. Do you murmur now? Pvg. Not I, Sr. Wit. What do you take [152] Mr. Deuile, the height of your employment, In the true perfect E?cudero? Fit. When? What doe you an?wer? Pvg. To be able, Madame, Fir?t to enquire, then report the working, 215 Of any Ladies phy?icke, in ?weete phra?e. Wit. Yes, that’s an act of elegance, and importance. But what aboue? Fit. O, that I had a goad for him. Pvg. To find out a good Corne-cutter. Tay. Out on him! Eit. Mo?t barbarous! Fit. Why did you doe this, now? 220 Of purpo?e to di?credit me? you damn’d Diuell. Pvg. Sure, if I be not yet, I ?hall be. All My daies in Hell, were holy-daies to this! Tay. ’Tis labour lo?t, Madame? Eit. H’is a dull fellow Of no capacity! Tai. Of no di?cour?e! 225 O, if my Ambler had beene here! Eit. I, Madame; You talke of a man, where is there ?uch another? Wit. Mr. Deuile, put ca?e, one of my Ladies, heere, Had a fine brach: and would imploy you forth To treate ’bout a conuenient match for her. 230 What would you ob?erue? Pvg. The color, and the ?ize, Madame. Wit. And nothing el?e? Fit. The Moon, you calfe, the Moone! Wit. I, and the Signe. Tai. Yes, and receits for pronene??e. Wit. Then when the Puppies came, what would you doe? Pvg. Get their natiuities ca?t! Wit. This’s wel. What more? 235 Pvg. Con?ult the Almanack-man which would be lea?t? Which cleanelie?t? Wit. And which ?ilente?t? This’s wel, madame! Wit. And while ?he were with puppy? Pvg. Walke her out, And ayre her euery morning! Wit. Very good! And be indu?trious to kill her fleas? 240 Pvg. Yes! Wit. He will make a pretty proficient. Pvg. Who, Comming from Hell, could looke for ?uch Catechi?ing? The Diuell is an A??e. I doe acknowledge it. Fit. The top of woman! All her ?exe in ab?tract! Fitz-dottrel admires Wittipol. I loue her, to each ?yllable, falls from her. 245 Tai. Good madame giue me leaue to goe a?ide with him! And try him a little! Wit. Do, and I’ll with-draw, Madame, VVith this faire Lady: read to her, the while. Tai. Come, Sr. Pvg. Deare Chiefe, relieue me, or I peri?h. The Diuel praies again. Wit. Lady, we’ll follow. You are not iealous Sir? 250 Fit. O, madame! you ?hall ?ee. Stay wife, behold, I giue her vp heere, ab?olutely, to you, She is your owne. Do with her what you will! He giues his wife to him, taking him to be a Lady. Melt, ca?t, and forme her as you ?hall thinke good! Set any ?tamp on! I’ll receiue her from you 255 As a new thing, by your owne ?tandard! VVit. Well, Sir! Act. IIIJ. Scene. V. Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Pit-Fal. Act. IIIJ. Scene. VI. VVittipol. Mistresse Fitz-dottrel. Be not afraid, ?weet Lady: yo’ are tru?ted [154] To loue, not violence here; I am no raui?her, But one, whom you, by your faire tru?t againe, May of a ?eruant make a mo?t true friend. Mrs. Fi. And ?uch a one I need, but not this way: 5 Sir, I confe??e me to you, the meere manner Manly, conceal’d this while, ?hews him?elf. Man. O friend! for?ake not The braue occa?ion, vertue offers you, To keepe you innocent: I haue fear’d for both; 30 And watch’d you, to preuent the ill I fear’d. But, ?ince the weaker ?ide hath ?o a??ur’d mee, Let not the ?tronger fall by his owne vice, Or be the le??e a friend, cau?e vertue needs him. Wit. Vertue ?hall neuer aske my ?uccours twice; 35 Mo?t friend, mo?t man: your Coun?ells are commands: Lady, I can loue goodnes in you, more [155] Then I did Beauty; and doe here intitle Your vertue, to the power, vpon a life You ?hall engage in any fruitfull ?eruice, 40 Euen to forfeit. Act. IV. Scene. VIJ. Wittipol. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. Manly. Fit. Madame, I haue a ?uit to you; and afore-hand, I doe be?peake you; you mu?t not deny me, I will be graunted. Wit. Sir, I mu?t know it, though. Fit. No Lady; you mu?t not know it: yet, you mu?t too. For the tru?t of it, and the fame indeed, 5 Which el?e were lo?t me. I would vfe your name, But in a Feoffment: make my whole e?tate Ouer vnto you: a trifle, a thing of nothing, Wit. Alas! I vnder?tand not Tho?e things Sir. I am a woman, and mo?t loath, 10 To embarque my ?elfe— Fit. You will not ?light me, Madame? Wit. Nor you’ll not quarrell me? Fit. No, ?weet Madame, I haue Already a dependance; for which cau?e I doe this: let me put you in, deare Madame, I may be fairely kill’d. Wit. You haue your friends, Sir, 15 About you here, for choice. Eve. She tells you right, Sir. Hee hopes to be the man. Fit. Death, if ?he doe, what do I care for that? Say, I would haue her tell me wrong. Wit. Why, Sir, [156] If for the tru?t, you’ll let me haue the honor To name you one. Fit. Nay, you do me the honor, Madame: 20 Who is’t? Wit. This Gentleman: Shee de?ignes Manly. Fit. O, no, sweet Madame, H’is friend to him, with whom I ha’ the dependance. Wit. Who might he bee? Fit. One Wittipol: do you know him? Wit. Alas Sir, he, a toy: This Gentleman A friend to him? no more then I am Sir! 25 Fit. But will your Lady?hip vndertake that, Madame? Wit. Yes, and what el?e, for him, you will engage me. Fit. What is his name? VVit. His name is Eu?tace Manly. Fit. VVhence do’s he write him?elfe? VVit. of Middle-?ex, E?quire. Fit. Say nothing, Madame. Clerke, come hether 30 Mer. What ha’ you done, Sir? VVit. Nam’d a gentleman, That I’ll be an?werable for, to you, Sir. Had I nam’d you, it might ha’ beene ?u?pected: This way, ’tis ?afe. Fit. Come Gentlemen, your hands, 35 For witnes. Man. VVhat is this? Eve. You ha’ made Election Eueril applaudes it. Of a mo?t worthy Gentleman! Man. VVould one of worth Had ?poke it: whence it comes, it is Rather a ?hame to me, then a prai?e. Eve. Sir, I will giue you any Satisfaction. 40 Man. Be ?ilent then: “fal?hood commends not truth”. Plv. You do deliuer this, Sir, as your deed. To th’ v?e of Mr. Manly? Fit. Yes: and Sir— VVhen did you ?ee yong Wittipol? I am ready, For proce??e now; Sir, this is Publication. 45 He ?hall heare from me, he would needes be courting My wife, Sir. Man. Yes: So witne??eth his Cloake there. Fit. Nay good Sir,—Madame, you did vndertake— Fitz-dottrel is ?u?picious of Manly ?till. VVit. VVhat? Fit. That he was not Wittipols friend. VVit. I heare Sr. no confe??ion of it. Fit. O ?he know’s not; 50 Now I remember, Madame! This young Wittipol, VVould ha’ debauch’d my wife, and made me Cuckold, Through a ca?ement; he did fly her home To mine owne window: but I think I ?ou’t him, And rauifh’d her away, out of his pownces. 55 I ha’ ?worne to ha’ him by the eares: I feare VVit. No? that were pitty! VVhat right doe you aske, Sir? Here he is will do’t you? Wittipol di?couers him?elfe. Fit. Ha? Wittipol? VVit. I Sir, no more Lady now, Nor Spaniard! Man. No indeed, ’tis Wittipol. 60 Fit. Am I the thing I fear’d? VVit. A Cuckold? No Sir, But you were late in po??ibility, I’ll tell you ?o much. Man. But your wife’s too vertuous! VVit. VVee’ll ?ee her Sir, at home, and leaue you here, To be made Duke o’ Shore-ditch with a proiect. [157] 65 Fit. Theeues, raui?hers. VVit. Crie but another note, Sir, I’ll marre the tune, o’ your pipe! Fit. Gi’ me my deed, then. He would haue his deed again. VVit. Neither: that ?hall be kept for your wiues good, VVho will know, better how to v?e it. Fit. Ha’ To fea?t you with my land? VVit. Sir, be you quiet, 70 Or I ?hall gag you, ere I goe, con?ult Your Ma?ter of dependances; how to make this A ?econd bu?ine??e, you haue time Sir. VVitipol bafflees him, and goes out. Fit. Oh! VVhat will the gho?t of my wi?e Grandfather, My learned Father, with my wor?hipfull Mother, 75 Thinke of me now, that left me in this world In ?tate to be their Heire? that am become A Cuckold, and an A??e, and my wiues Ward; Likely to loo?e my land; ha’ my throat cut: All, by her practice! Mer. Sir, we are all abus’d! 80 Fit. And be ?o ?till! VVho hinders you, I pray you, Let me alone, I would enioy my ?elfe, And be the Duke o’ Drown’d-Land, you ha’ made me. Mer. Sir, we mu?t play an after-game o’ this. Fit. But I am not in ca?e to be a Gam-?ter: 85 I tell you once againe— Mer. You mu?t be rul’d And take some coun?ell. Fit. Sir, I do hate coun?ell, As I do hate my wife, my wicked wife! Mer. But we may thinke how to recouer all: If you will act. Fit. I will not think; nor act; 90 Nor yet recouer; do not talke to me? I’ll runne out o’ my witts, rather then heare; I will be what I am, Fabian Fitz-Dottrel, Though all the world ?ay nay to’t. Mer. Let’s follow him. [158] Act. V. Scene. I. Ambler. Pitfall. Mere-craft. Bvt ha’s my Lady mi?t me? Pit. Beyond telling! Here ha’s been that infinity of ?trangers! And then ?he would ha’ had you, to ha’ ?ampled you VVith one within, that they are now a teaching; And do’s pretend to your ranck. Amb. Good fellow Pit-fall, 5 Tel Mr. Mere-craft, I intreat a word with him. Pitfall goes out. This most vnlucky accident will goe neare To be the lo??e o’ my place; I am in doubt! Mer. VVith me? what ?ay you Mr Ambler? Amb. Sir, I would be?eech your wor?hip ?tand betweene 10 Me, and my Ladies di?plea?ure, for my ab?ence. Mer. O, is that all? I warrant you. Amb. I would tell you Sir But how it happened. Mer. Brief, good Ma?ter Ambler, Put your selfe to your rack: for I haue ta?que Of more importance. Mere-craft ?eemes full of bu?ine??e. Amb. Sir you’ll laugh at me? 15 But (?o is Truth) a very friend of mine, Finding by conference with me, that I liu’d Too cha?t for my complexion (and indeed Too hone?t for my place, Sir) did adui?e me If I did loue my ?elfe (as that I do, 20 I mu?t confe??e) Mer. Spare your Parenthe?is. Amb. To gi’ my body a little euacuation— Mer. Well, and you went to a whore? Amb. No, Sr. I dur?t not (For feare it might arriue at ?ome body’s eare, It ?hould not) tru?t my ?elfe to a common hou?e; 25 Ambler tels this with extraordinary ?peed. But got the Gentlewoman to goe with me, And carry her bedding to a Conduit-head, Hard by the place toward Tyborne, which they call My L. Majors Banqueting-hou?e. Now Sir, This morning Was Execution; and I ner’e dream’t on’t 30 Till I heard the noi?e o’ the people, and the hor?es; And neither I, nor the poore Gentlewoman [159] Dur?t ?tirre, till all was done and pa?t: ?o that I’ the Interim, we fell a ?leepe againe. He flags. Mer. Nay, if you fall, from your gallop, I am gone Sr. 35 Amb. But, when I wak’d, to put on my cloathes, a ?ute, I made new for the action, it was gone, And all my money, with my pur?e, my ?eales, Mer. A kind of Iri?h penance! Is this all, Sir? Amb. To ?atisfie my Lady. Mer. I will promi?e you, Sr. Amb. I ha’ told the true Di?a?ter. Mer. I cannot ?tay wi’ you 50 Sir, to condole; but gratulate your returne. Amb. An hone?t gentleman, but he’s neuer at lei?ure To be him?elfe: He ha’s ?uch tides of bu?ine??e. Act. V. Scene. II. Pvg. Ambler. O, Call me home againe, deare Chiefe, and put me To yoaking foxes, milking of Hee-goates, Pounding of water in a morter, lauing The ?ea dry with a nut-?hell, gathering all The leaues are falne this Autumne, drawing farts 5 Out of dead bodies, making ropes of ?and, Catching the windes together in a net, Mu?tring of ants, and numbring atomes; all That hell, and you thought exqui?ite torments, rather Then ?tay me here, a thought more: I would ?ooner 10 Keepe fleas within a circle, and be accomptant Ambler comes in, & ?uruayes him. Amb. This is my ?uite, and tho?e the ?hoes and ro?es! Pvg. Th’ haue such impertinent vexations, A generall Councell o’ diuels could not hit— 20 Pug perceiues it, and ?tarts. Ha! This is hee, I tooke a ?leepe with his Wench, And borrow’d his cloathes. What might I doe to balke him? Amb. Do you heare, Sr? Pvg. Answ. him but not to th’purpo?e Amb. What is your name, I pray you Sir. Pvg. Is’t ?o late Sir? He an?wers quite from the purpo?e. Amb. I aske not o’ the time, but of your name, Sir. 25 Pvg. I thanke you, Sir. Yes it dos hold Sir, certaine. Amb. Hold, Sir? what holds? I mu?t both hold, and talke to you About the?e clothes. Pvg. A very pretty lace! But the Taylor co??end me. Amb. No, I am co??end By you! robb’d. Pvg. Why, when you plea?e Sir, I am 30 For three peny Gleeke, your man. Amb. Pox o’ your gleeke, And three pence. Giue me an an?were. Pvg. Sir, My ma?ter is the be?t at it. Amb. Your ma?ter! Who is your Ma?ter. Pvg. Let it be friday night. Amb. What ?hould be then? Pvg. Your be?t ?ongs Thom. o’ Bet’lem 35 Amb. I thinke, you are he. Do’s he mocke me trow, from purpo?e? Or do not I ?peake to him, what I meane? Good Sir your name. Pvg. Only a couple a’ Cocks Sir, If we can get a Widgin, ’tis in ?ea?on. Amb. He hopes to make on o’ the?e Scipticks o’ me 40 For Scepticks. (I thinke I name ’hem right) and do’s not fly me. I wonder at that! ’tis a ?trange confidence! I’ll prooue another way, to draw his an?wer. Act. V. Scene. IIJ. Mere-craft. Fitz-dottrel. It is the ea?ie?t thing Sir, to be done. As plaine, as fizzling: roule but wi’ your eyes, And foame at th’ mouth. A little ca?tle-?oape Will do’t, to rub your lips: And then a nut?hell, With toe, and touch-wood in it to ?pit fire, 5 Did you ner’e read, Sir, little Darrels tricks, With the boy o’ Burton, and the 7. in Lanca?hire, Sommers at Nottingham? All the?e do teach it. And wee’ll giue out, Sir, that your wife ha’s bewitch’d you: [161] They repaire their old plot. Eve. And practi?ed with tho?e two, as Sorcerers. 10 Mer. And ga’ you potions, by which meanes you were Not Compos mentis, when you made your feoffment. There’s no recouery o’ your ?tate, but this: This, Sir, will ?ting. Eve. And moue in a Court of equity. Mer. For, it is more then manife?t, that this was 15 A plot o’ your wiues, to get your land. Fit. I thinke it. Eve. Sir it appeares. Mer. Nay, and my co??en has knowne The?e gallants in the?e ?hapes. Eve. T’haue don ?trange things, Sir. One as the Lady, the other as the Squire. Mer. How, a mans hone?ty may be fool’d! I thought him 20 A very Lady. Fit. So did I: renounce me el?e. Mer. But this way, Sir, you’ll be reueng’d at height. Eve. Vpon ’hem all. Mer. Yes faith, and ?ince your Wife Has runne the way of woman thus, e’en giue her— Fit. Lo?t by this hand, to me, dead to all ioyes 25 Of her deare Dottrell, I ?hall neuer pitty her: That could, pitty her ?elfe. Mer. Princely re?olu’d Sir, And like your ?elfe ?till, in PotentiÂ. Act. V. Scene. IV. Mere-craft, &c. to them. Gvilt-head. Act. V. Scene. V. Ambler. { To them. O Ma?ter Sledge, are you here? I ha’ been to ?eeke you. You are the Con?table, they ?ay. Here’s one That I do charge with Felony, for the ?uite He weares, Sir. Mer. Who? M. Fitz-Dottrels man? Ware what you do, M. Ambler. Amb. Sir, the?e clothes 5 I’ll ?weare, are mine: and the ?hooes the gentlewomans I told you of: and ha’ him afore a Iu?tice, [163] I will. Pvg. My ma?ter, Sir, will pa??e his word for me. Amb. O, can you ?peake to purpo?e now? Fitz-dottrel di?claimes him. Png. Do you heare Sir, pray, in priuate. Fit. well, what ?ay you? Briefe, for I haue no time to loo?e. Pvg. Truth is, Sir, I am the very Diuell, and had leaue To take this body, I am in, to ?erue you; 15 Which was a Cutpur?es, and hang’d this Morning. And it is likewi?e true, I ?tole this ?uite To cloth me with. But Sir let me not goe To pri?on for it. I haue hitherto Lo?t time, done nothing; ?howne, indeed, no part 20 O’ my Diuels nature. Now, I will ?o helpe Your malice, ’gainst the?e parties; ?o aduance The bu?ine??e, that you haue in hand of witchcraft, And your po??e??ion, as my ?elfe were in you. Teach you ?uch tricks, to make your belly ?well, 25 And your eyes turne, to foame, to ?tare, to gna?h Your teeth together, and to beate your ?elfe, Laugh loud, and faine ?ix voices— Fit. Out you Rogue! You mo?t infernall counterfeit wretch! Auant! Do you thinke to gull me with your Æ?ops Fables? 30 Here take him to you, I ha’ no part in him. Pvg. Sir. Fit. Away, I do di?claime, I will not heare you. And ?ends him away. Mer. What ?aid he to you, Sir? Fit. Like a lying raskall Told me he was the Diuel. Mer. How! a good ie?t! Fit. And that he would teach me, ?uch fine diuels tricks 35 For our new re?olution. Eve. O’ pox on him, ’Twas excellent wi?ely done, Sir, not to tru?t him. Mere-craft giues the instructions to him and the re?t. Mer. Why, if he were the Diuel, we ?ha’ not need him, Fit. Well, I’ll beginne to practice; And ?cape the imputation of being Cuckold, By mine owne act. Mer. yo’ are right. Eve. Come, you ha’ put Your ?elfe to a ?imple coyle here, and your freinds, [164] By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. 55 Mer. No more o’ that, ?weet cou?in. Eve. What had you To doe with this ?ame Wittipol, for a Lady? Mer. Que?tion not that: ’tis done. Eve. You had ?ome ?traine ’Boue E-la? Mer. I had indeed. Eve. And, now, you crack for’t. Mer. Do not vpbraid me. Eve. Come, you mu?t be told on’t; 60 You are ?o couetous, ?till, to embrace More then you can, that you loo?e all. Mer. ’Tis right. What would you more, then Guilty? Now, your ?uccours. Act. V. Scene. VJ. Shakles. Pvg. Iniquity. Divel. Pug is brought to New-gate. Here you are lodg’d, Sir, you mu?t ?end your garni?h, If you’ll be priuat. Pvg. There it is, Sir, leaue me. To New-gate, brought? How is the name of Deuill Di?credited in me! What a lo?t fiend Shall I be, on returne? My Cheife will roare 5 In triumph, now, that I haue beene on earth, A day, and done no noted thing, but brought That body back here, was hang’d out this morning. Well! would it once were midnight, that I knew My vtmo?t. I thinke Time be drunke, and ?leepes; 10 He is ?o ?till, and moues not! I doe glory Now i’ my torment. Neither can I expect it, I haue it with my fact. Enter Iniquity the Vice. Ini. Child of hell, be thou merry: Put a looke on, as round, boy, and red as a cherry. Ca?t care at thy po?ternes; and firke i’ thy fetters, 15 They are ornaments, Baby, haue graced thy betters: Looke vpon me, and hearken. Our Cheife doth ?alute thee, And lea?t the coldyron ?hould chance to confute thee, H’hath ?ent thee, grant-paroll by me to ?tay longer A moneth here on earth, again?t cold Child, or honger. 20 Pvg. How? longer here a moneth? Ing. Yes, boy, till the Se??ion, That ?o thou maye?t haue a triumphall egre??ion. Pvg. In a cart, to be hang’d. Ing. No, Child, in a Carre, Pvg. He is a Diuell! and may be our Cheife! [165] The great Superiour Diuell! for his malice: 30 Arch-diuel! I acknowledge him. He knew What I would ?uffer, when he tie’d me vp thus In a rogues body: and he has (I thanke him) His tyrannous plea?ure on me, to confine me To the vnlucky carka??e of a Cutpur?e, 35 wherein I could do nothing. The great Deuill enters, and vpbraids him with all his dayes worke. Div. Impudent fiend, Stop thy lewd mouth. Doe?t thou not ?hame and tremble To lay thine owne dull damn’d defects vpon An innocent ca?e, there? Why thou heauy ?laue! The ?pirit, that did po??e??e that fle?h before 40 Put more true life, in a finger, and a thumbe, Then thou in the whole Ma??e. Yet thou rebell’?t And murmur’?t? What one profer ha?t thou made, Wicked inough, this day, that might be call’d Worthy thine owne, much le??e the name that ?ent thee? 45 Fir?t, thou did’?t helpe thy ?elfe into a beating Promptly, and with’t endangered’?t too thy tongue: A Diuell, and could not keepe a body intire One day! That, for our credit. And to vindicate it, Hinderd’?t (for ought thou know’?t) a deed of darkne??e: 50 Which was an act of that egregious folly, As no one, to’ard the Diuel, could ha’ thought on. This for your acting! but for suffering! why Thou ha?t beene cheated on, with a fal?e beard, And a turn’d cloake. Faith, would your predece??our 55 The Cutpur?e, thinke you, ha’ been ?o? Out vpon thee, Iniquity takes him on his back. Ini. Mount, dearling of darkne??e, my ?houlders are broad: He that caries the fiend, is ?ure of his loade. 75 The Diuell was wont to carry away the euill; [166] But, now, the Euill out-carries the Diuell. Act. V. Scene. VIJ. Shakles. Keepers. A great noise is heard in New-gate, and the Keepers come out affrighted. O mee! Kee. 1. What’s this? 2. A piece of Iustice Hall Is broken downe. 3. Fough! what a ?teeme of brim?tone Is here? 4. The pri?oner’s dead, came in but now! Sha. Ha? where? 4. Look here. Kee. S’lid, I ?huld know his countenance! It is Gill-Cut-pur?e, was hang’d out, this morning! 5 Sha. ’Tis he! 2. The Diuell, ?ure, has a hand in this! 3. What ?hall wee doe? Sha. Carry the newes of it Vnto the Sherifes. 1. And to the Iu?tices. 4. This ?trange! 3. And ?auours of the Diuell, ?trongly! 2. I’ ha’ the ?ulphure of Hell-coale i’ my no?e. 10 1. Fough. Sha. Carry him in. 1. Away. 2. How ranke it is! Act. V. Scene. VIII. Sir Povle. Mere-craft. Ever-ill. {To them} VVittipol. Manly. Mi?tre??e Fitz-dottrel. Ingine. To them } Gvilt-head. The Iu?tice comes out wondring, and the re?t informing him. This was the notable?t Con?piracy, That ere I heard of. Mer. Sir, They had giu’n him potions, That did enamour him on the counterfeit Lady— Eve. Iu?t to the time o’ deliuery o’ the deed— Mer. And then the witchcraft ’gan’t’ appeare, for ?treight 5 He fell into his fit. Eve. Of rage at fir?t, Sir, Which ?ince, has ?o increa?ed. Tay. Good Sr. Poule, ?ee him, And puni?h the impo?tors. Pov. Therefore I come, Madame. Eit. Let Mr. Ether?ide alone, Madame. Pov. Do you heare? Call in the Con?table, I will haue him by: 10 H’is the Kings Officer! and ?ome Cittizens, [167] Of credit! I’ll di?charge my con?cience clearly. Mer. Yes, Sir, and ?end for his wife. Eve. And the two Sorcerers, By any meanes! Tay. I thought one a true Lady, I ?hould be ?worne. So did you, Eyther-?ide? 15 Eit. Yes, by that light, would I might ne’r ?tir el?e, Tailbu?h. Tay. And the other a ciuill Gentleman. Eve. But, Madame, You know what I told your Lady?hip. Tay. I now ?ee it: I was prouiding of a banquet for ’hem. After I had done in?tructing o’ the fellow 20 De-uile, the Gentlemans man. Mer. Who’s found a thiefe, Madam. And to haue rob’d your Vsher, Ma?ter Ambler, This morning. Tay. How? Mer. I’ll tell you more, anon. Fit. Gi me ?ome garlicke, garlicke, garlicke, garlicke. He beginnes his fit. Mer. Harke the poore Gentleman, how he is tormented! 25 Fit. My wife is a whore, I’ll ki??e her no more: and why? Ma’?t not thou be a Cuckold, as well as I? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, &c. Pov. That is the Diuell ?peakes, and laughes in him. The Iu?tice interpret all: Mer. Do you thinke ?o, Sr. Pov. I di?charge my con?cience. 30 Fit. And is not the Diuell good company? Yes, wis. Eve. How he changes, Sir, his voyce! Fit. And a Cuckold is Where ere hee put his head, with a a Wanion, If his hornes be forth, the Diuells companion! Looke, looke, looke, el?e. Mer. How he foames! Eve. And ?wells! 35 Tay. O, me! what’s that there, ri?es in his belly! Eit. A ?trange thing! hold it downe: Tra. Pit. We cannot, Madam. Pov. ’Tis too apparent this! Fit. Wittipol, Wittipol. Wittipol, and Manly and Mistr. Fitz-dottrel enter. Wit. How now, what play ha’ we here. Man. What fine, new matters? Wit. The Cock?comb, and the Couerlet. Mer. O ?trang impudece! 40 That the?e ?hould come to face their ?inne! Eve. And out-face Iu?tice, they are the parties, Sir. Pov. Say nothing. Mer. Did you marke, Sir, vpon their comming in, How he call’d Wittipol. Eve. And neuer ?aw ’hem. Pov. I warrant you did I, let ’hem play a while. 45 Fit. Buz, buz, buz, buz. Tay. La??e poore Gentleman! How he is tortur’d! Mrs. Fi. Fie, Ma?ter Fitz-dottrel! What doe you meane to counterfait thus? Fit. O, Ô, His wife goes to him. Shee comes with a needle, and thru?ts it in, Shee pulls out that, and ?hee puts in a pinne, 50 And now, and now, I doe not know how, nor where, But ?hee pricks mee heere, and ?hee pricks me there: Ôh, Ôh: Pov. Woman forbeare. Wit. What, Sr? Pov. A practice foule For one ?o faire: Wit. Hath this, then, credit with you? Man. Do you beleeue in’t? Pov. Gentlemen, I’ll di?charge My con?cience. ’Tis a cleare con?piracy! 56 A darke, and diuelli?h practice! I dete?t it! Wit. The Iu?tice ?ure will proue the merrier man! [168] Man. This is mo?t ?trange, Sir! Pov. Come not to confront Authority with impudence: I tell you, I doe dete?t it. Here comes the Kings Con?table, Eve. You doe not tumble enough. Mer. Wallow, gna?h: They whi?per him. Tay. O, how he is vexed! Pov. ’Tis too manife?t. Eve. Giue him more ?oap to foame with, now lie ?till. and giue him ?oape to act with. Mer. And act a little. Tay. What do’s he now, Sr. Pov. Shew The taking of Tabacco, with which the Diuell Is ?o delighted. Fit. Hum! Pov. And calls for Hum. You takers of ?trong Waters, and Tabacco, Marke this. Fit. Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, &c. Pov. That’s Starch! the Diuells Idoll of that colour. 75 He ratifies it, with clapping of his hands. The proofes are pregnant. Gvi. How the Diuel can act! Pov. He is the Ma?ter of Players! Master Guilt-head, And Poets, too! you heard him talke in rime! I had forgot to ob?erue it to you, ere while! 80 Tay. See, he ?pits fire. Pov. O no, he plaies at Figgum, The Diuell is the Author of wicked Figgum— Sir Poule interprets Figgum to be a Iuglers game. Man. Why ?peake you not vnto him? Wit. If I had All innocence of man to be indanger’d, And he could ?aue, or ruine it: I’ld not breath 85 A ?yllable in reque?t, to ?uch a foole, He makes him?elfe. Fit. O they whi?per, whi?per, whi?per. Wee ?hall haue more, of Diuells a ?core, To come to dinner, in mee the ?inner. Eyt. Alas, poore Gentleman! Pov. Put ’hem a?under. 90 Keepe ’hem one from the other. Man. Are you phrenticke, Sir, Or what graue dotage moues you, to take part VVith so much villany? wee are not afraid Either of law, or triall; let vs be Examin’d what our ends were, what the meanes? 95 To worke by, and po??ibility of tho?e meanes. Doe not conclude again?t vs, ere you heare vs. Pov. I will not heare you, yet I will conclude Out of the circum?tances. Man. VVill you ?o, Sir? Pov. Yes, they are palpable: Man. Not as your folly: 100 Pov. I will di?charge my con?cience, and doe all To the Meridian of Iu?tice: Gvi. You doe well, Sir. Fit. Prouide mee to eat, three or foure di?hes o’ good meat, I’ll fea?t them, and their traines, a Iu?tice head and braines Shall be the fir?t. Pov. The Diuell loues not Iu?tice, [169] There you may ?ee. Fit. A ?pare-rib O’ my wife, 106 And a whores purt’nance! a Guilt-head whole. Pov. Be not you troubled, Sir, the Diuell ?peakes it. Fit. Yes, wis, Knight, ?hite, Poule, Ioule, owle, foule, troule, boule. Pov. Crambe, another of the Diuell’s games! 110 Mer. Speake. Sir, ?ome Greeke, if you can. Is not the Iu?tice A ?olemne game?ter? Eve. Peace. Fit. ?? ??, ?a??da???, ?a? t??s?a??da???, ?a? tet?????, ?a? pe?t????, ?a? d?de?????, ?a? ???????. Pov. Hee cur?es. In Greeke, I thinke. Eve. Your Spani?h, that I taught you. 115 Fit. QuebrÉmos el ojo de burlas, Eve. How? your re?t— Fit. Di grÁtia, SignÒr mio ?e haÚete denÁri fatamÉne parte. Mer. What, would the Diuell borrow money? Fit. Ouy, Ouy Mon?ieur, Ùn pÀuure Diable! Diablet in! 120 Pov. It is the diuell, by his ?euerall langauges. Enter the Keeper of New-gate. Sha. Where’s Sr. Poule Ether-?ide? Pov. Here, what’s the matter? Sha. O! ?uch an accident falne out at Newgate, Sir: A great piece of the pri?on is rent downe! The Diuell has beene there, Sir, in the body— 125 Of the young Cut-Pur?e, was hang’d out this morning, But, in new clothes, Sir, euery one of vs know him. The?e things were found in his pocket. Amb. Tho?e are mine, Sr. Sha. I thinke he was commited on your charge, Sir. For a new felony. Amb. Yes. Sha. Hee’s gone, Sir, now, 130 And left vs the dead body. But withall, Sir, Such an infernall ?tincke, and ?teame behinde, You cannot ?ee St. Pulchars Steeple, yet. They ?mell’t as farre as Ware, as the wind lies, 134 By this time, ?ure. Fit. Is this vpon your credit, friend? Fitz-dottrel leaues counterfaiting. Sha. Sir, you may ?ee, and ?atisfie your ?elfe. Fit. Nay, then, ’tis time to leaue off counterfeiting. Sir I am not bewitch’d, nor haue a Diuell: No more then you. I doe defie him, I, And did abu?e you. The?e two Gentlemen 140 Put me vpon it. (I haue faith again?t him) They taught me all my tricks. I will tell truth, And ?hame the Feind. See, here, Sir, are my bellowes, And my fal?e belly, and my Mou?e, and all Man. Sir, are not you a?ham’d Now of your ?olemne, ?erious vanity? 146 Pov. I will make honorable amends to truth. Fit. And ?o will I. But the?e are Coozeners, ?till; And ha’ my land, as plotters, with my wife: Who, though ?he be not a witch, is wor?e, a whore. 150 Man. Sir, you belie her. She is cha?te, and vertuous, And we are hone?t. I doe know no glory [170] A man ?hould hope, by venting his owne follyes, But you’ll ?till be an A??e, in ?pight of prouidence. Plea?e you goe in, Sir, and heare truths, then iudge ’hem: And make amends for your late ra?hne??e; when, 156 You ?hall but heare the paines and care was taken, To ?aue this foole from ruine (his Grace of Drown’d-land) Fit. My land is drown’d indeed— Pov. Peace. Man. And how much His mode?t, and too worthy wife hath ?uffer’d 160 By mi?-con?truction, from him, you will blu?h, Fir?t, for your owne beliefe, more for his actions! His land is his: and neuer, by my friend, Or by my ?elfe, meant to another v?e, But for her ?uccours, who hath equall right. 165 If any other had wor?e coun?ells in’t, (I know I ?peake to tho?e can apprehend mee) Let ’hem repent ’hem, and be not detected. It is not manly to take ioy, or pride In humane errours. (wee doe all ill things, 170 They doe ’hem wor?t that loue ’hem, and dwell there, Till the plague comes) The few that haue the ?eeds Of goodne??e left, will ?ooner make their way To a true life, by ?hame, then puni?hment. THE END. The Epilogue. |
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