[SCENE 2.]

Enter Captaine Underwit and Thomas.

Un. And hast thou been carefull of all those things I gave charge to be provided?

Tho. There is a note of the particulars.

Un. Tis very well done, Thomas.—Let me see: Imprimis—

Tho. The Captaine wonot faile to be w'ee, sir. He was not at his lodging; and inquiring at the Horne tavern, I heard he had been there with two or three Cittizens that ow'd him mony.

Un. That he owde mony to.

Tho. Tis all one, I thinke, Sir; for when Captaines have not pay, the creditors may pay themselves. Here they said he did mollifie the hart of the haberdashers and dranke himselfe a little mellowe ere they parted, which gave me some hope I might find him ere night at the Divell, where indeed I fetcht him out of the fire and gave him your Letter.

Un. And the gold too?

Tho. That was the first word he read; if you did not write it in text he could not have found it out so soone. His eye was no sooner in the inside but his arme flew out with an open mouth and his very fingers cryed "give me the gold"! which presumeing to be weight he put in his hocas pocas, a little dormer under his right skirt; and so takeing his word to come downe and turning over your horse to him, with caution not to be drunk and forgett your worship, I tooke my leave and went about my Inventorie.

Un. Theis things are very right, Thomas. Let me see now the bookes of Martiall discipline.

Tho. I bought up all that I found have relation to warr and fighting.

Un. That was weldone.—Item: The Sword Salve.

Tho. This I conceiv'd to have the vertue of Achilles speare: if you bee hurt you need goe no further then the blade for a Surgeon.

Un. The Buckler of Faith.

Tho. You had the sword before, Sir.

Un. A Booke of Mortification.

Tho. I, Sir, that is a kind of killing which I thought very necessary for a Captaine.

Un. Item: the Gunpowder Treason and the Booke of Cannons.

Tho. I wod not lett any shott scape mee.

Un. Shakespeares Workes.—Why Shakespeares Workes?

Tho. I had nothing for the pikemen before.

Un. They are plays.

Tho. Are not all your musterings in the Countrey so, Sir? Pray, read on.

Un. Bellarmines Controversie in six tomes.

Tho. That I took upon the Stationers word, who had been a pretty Schollar at Paules; for the word Bellarmine, he said, did comprehend warr, weapons and words of defiance. Ill words provoke men to draw their sword, and fighting makes an end of the busines; and all this is controversy. Pray, goe on, Sir.

Un. Two paire of Tables.—Tables for what?

Tho. Oh, sir, for ticktack. You know it was in my note, which though I doubted at first, yet considering you were newly made a Cap: I conceiv'd it was fitt you should learne to sett and or[d]er your men.

Un. Tacticks, man: thou didst mistake, they are bookes of warre.

Tho. You cannot know these from bookes as they are painted, I warrant you.

Un. Why, dost thou thinke theis will make a Souldier?

Tho. Not of themselves, Sir, and therefore I provided: please you read on, Sir.

Un. Parsons Resolutions and Felthams Resolves[241].

Tho. All is nothing I knew, Sir, without resolution.

Un. Summa totalis three and twenty poundes nyneteene shillings and sevenpence.—Thou hast undone mee.

Tho. If you doe not like the pennyworths tis but the charges of my selfe and a horse agen to London. I will lose but the three odd pounds 19s and 7d: it may be you doe not understand these Authors: when the Captaine comes he will expound 'em to you.

Un. What a Coxcombe have I to my man! but I dare not be angry with him. Well, carry 'em into my study, Thomas.

[Ext. Tho.

Enter Device.

De. Most honor'd Captaine.

Un. My compleat Monsier Device, this is a grace to us. You come to visit your Mistres my Cosen. As if by instinct she had knowledge of your [Enter Ladie and Sister, & Dorothy. approach, she is come to meet you.—Shall I never get opportunitie with that shee waiter! If I gett her with Child my man Thomas shall marry her.

Enter Thomas.

Tho. Sir, the Captaine is new alighted.

Un. Gett a bottle of sack up to my Chamber presently.

[Ext. [Underwit & Thomas.

La. You are a gentleman of your word.

Sis. And such a gentleman is to be trusted, Madam.

De. He is an Infidell that will breake his word with a Ladie.

Sis. I suspect, servant, you have many Mistresses.

De. Not I, by this white hand. I must acknowledge there are some Ladies in the Court in whose eyes and opinion I am favour'd. I cannot obscure my selfe from their observation; but my heart with contempt of all other endeerement is only devoted to your service.

Sis. Is't not a charge to dresse your selfe with such variety of Ribbands every day?

De. Is that your scruple? Tis the Mode to express our fancie upon every occasion; to shew the turne and present state of our hope or feares in our Affection. Your colours to an understanding Lover carry the interpretation of the hart as plainely as wee express our meaning one to another in Characters. Shall I decipher my Colours to you now? Here is Azure and Peach: Azure is constant, and Peach is love; which signifies my constant Affection.

Sis. This is very pretty.

De. Oh, it saves the trouble of writing, where the Mistres and Servant are learned in this amorous blazon. Yesterday I wore Folimort, Grisdelin and Isabella: Folimort is withered, Grisdelin is absent, and Isabella is beauty, which put together express I did wither or languish for your absent beautie.

Sis. But is there any reason for theis distinctions?

De. Yes, Lady: for example, your Follimort is a withred leafe, which doth moralise a decay: your yellow is joy, because—

La. Why, yellow, Sir, is Jealous.

De. No, your Lemon colour, a pale kind of yellow, is Jealous; your yellow is perfect joy. Your white is Death, your milke white inocence, your black mourning, your orange spitefull, your flesh colour lascivious, your maides blush envied, your red is defiance, your gold is avaritious, your straw plenty, your greene hope, your sea greene inconstant, your violet religious, your willow forsaken.

Sis. We may then comitt a solecisme and be strangely interpreted by such curious expounders in the rash election and wearing of our colours, I p[er]ceave.

La. Tis pitty but there should be some bookes for our instruction in this art.

De. Your Hierogliphick was the Egiptian wisdome, your Hebrew was the Cabala, your Roman had your Simball or impresse; but they are now obsolete, your embleme trite and conspicuous, your invention of Character and Alphabeticall key tedious and not delightfull, your motto or rebus too open and demonstrative: but the science and curiosity of your Colours in Ribbands is not only instructive but an ornament and the nearest Comentator of Love; for as Love is entertain'd first by the eye, or, to speake more plaine, as the object affected is tooke in first by these opticks which receive the species of the thing colord & beautifide, so it is answerable to nature that in the progresse of our passion we should distinguish by our eye the change or constancy of our affections in apt and significant colours.

_Sis. _You have tooke paines to study this learn'd heraldry.

De. It is the onely gentile knowledge or philosophie in the world. I will undertake to open any man or womans hart.

La. Heaven forbid!

De. Tell the most secret imaginations and designes conclude every passion and scruple, if they be carefull to observe the artificiall method of their colours.

Sis. Why, this may be a way of fortune telling too.

De. You say right, Lady: phisiognomy and chiromancy are but trifles; nay, your geomancie meere coniecturall, the execution of your schemes circumstantiall and fallible, but your quaint alamode weare of your fancie more then astrologicall.

La. Tis a kind of Divinitie.

De. You say very true, Madam, and comes neere to propheticall if the minds of Ladies and gentlemen were elevated to the just and sublime consideration.

Sis. What paines he takes to be ridiculous!

Do. This gentleman has a notable fancie and talkes poetically.

Sis. Yes, yes; he can write verses.

Do. Well, I have read Authors in my dayes and knew the length of the poets in my tyme too, which was an hexameter and which a pentameter, but the wits are not as they have been—right and straite.

Sis. Why, Doroty?

Do. Why, because wind is the cause of many things; now if the wind bee not in the right corner tis the ill wind our proverbe speakes of that blowes nobodie good; for when vapors and wind flie into the head it cannot be in two places at one time: and that's the reason your men of most wit doe seldome love a woman.—But here comes my Master and Sir Francis.

Enter Sir Richard and Sir Francis, and Mr. Courtwell.

Ri. This is a double honour to us, Sir Francis. I shall want language, but not a friendly hart to entertaine you and your noble kinsman. What my exquisite Cavalier Device!—tis to no purpose I see to remove into the Countrey to save charges and be quiet; the whole Citty will come hither if I stay. I have no stomack to my kn't.

Fra. I hope, madam, you will be no enemy to my kinsman.

Ri. Sister, I present this gentleman; observe and cherish him; he has been i'th Universitie.

Sis. Any degree, Sir?

Co. Onely Bachelour, forsooth!

Ri. If he winne you to marriage, Lady quicksilver—

Sis. He wilbe Master of his Art.

Ri. My vote is for him.

De.—I like not the induction of this rivall.

Ri. He studies now the law, And thats the high way to preferment, Sister.

Sis. Indeed it is the high way in which some Deliver up their purses. He may clime To scarlet, but that he has too good a face.

De. Sir, I hope—

Ri. Troth, do not, Sir,—I meane, trouble yourselfe: He is too bashfull to prevaile upon Your spirited mistres!

Enter Mr. Engine.

En. Sir Richard.

Ri. More customers? Mr. Engine, welcome; Your presence was unexpected in the Countrey.

En. Twas my ambition with some intents To serve you, sir. Please you vouchsafe your privacie, I bring Affaires are worth your entertainement: I have rid hard.

Cou. What Cavallier's this, Uncle?

Fra. He is the inventor of new proiects, cosen, They say, and patents; one that lives like a moth Upon the Common wealth.

Cou. He lookes like one.

Ric. You will excuse me, gentlemen.—Make much of Sir Francis, Madam.

Ext. [Sir Richard and Engine.

Fra. Weele leave my Nephew and your sister, Madam, And take a turne i'th garden.

Sis. You may be confident.

[Exeunt Sir Francis, Lady, and Dorothy.

De.—I doe not like the fancie in his hat; That gules is warre and will be ominous.

Ext. [Device.

Sis. The gentleman's turnd statue! blesse me how He staires upon me and takes roote, I thinke. It mooves, and now to earth is fixt agen; Oh, now it walkes and sadly marches this way. Is't not a ghost? heele fright me. Oh, sweet sir, Speake if you can and say who murderd you. It points at me: my eyes? ungentle eyes To kill so at first sight! Ile have my lookes Arraigned for't and small Cupid shall be judg, Who for your sake will make me blind as he is.

Co. Ladie—

Sis. The man's alive agen and has A tongue! discretion guide it; he but sent His soule forth of an arrand; tis returnd, Now wee shall have some sentences.

Co. Such are the strange varieties in love, Such heates, such desperate coldes,—

Sis. No more winter, and you love me, unlesse you can command the colepits; we have had a hard tyme on't already for want of fuell.

Co. I'me all turnd eares and, Lady, long to heare you, But pressing to you doubt I am too neare you. Then I would speake, but cannot; nought affordes Expression, th'Alphabet's too poore for wordes: He that knowes Love knowes well that every hower Love's glad, Love's sad, Love's sweet—

Sis. And sometymes sower. Theis wordes would goe well to a tune; pray letts heare you sing. I doe not thinke but you can make me a ioynture of fower nobles a yeare in Balletts, in lamentable balletts; for your wit I thinke lies tragicall. Did you make the Ladies Downefall[242]. You expresse a passion rarely, but pray leave Your couplets and say something in blanck verse Before you goe.

Co. Before I goe? breath not that killing language: There is no sunne but in your eyes, and when I once take leave of those celestiall beames I meet with darkenes in my habitation; Where stretch'd on sable ground I downe shall lay My mournefull body, and with folded Armes Heare sadder noats uppon the Irish harpe[243] And drop division with my brinish teares.[244]

Sis. This must be lamentable musick sure!

Co. But I have found an art to cure this wound, For I with fancies pencill will so draw Your picture in the table of my hart, Your absence shall but like darke shadowes stand To sett you of and see you, Lady, better Then Love will lett me when I looke upon you.

Sis. Could this be true and meant, sweet sir, to me, I should be kinder then the gentlest spring That warms the world and makes fierce beasts so tame And trees to swell themselves to cheerefull greene; More jocund then the proudest quire of birds, What ere they be that in the woods so wide Doe sing their merry catches.—Sure he does But counterfeit.

Co. Oh, now I see that Love Is sweet as flowers in their fragrant birth, Gentle as silke, and kind as Cloudes to Earth?

Sis. One rime more and you undoe my love for ever. Out upon't! pedlars French[245] is a Christian language to this. I had rather you should put me a case out of Litleton. They say you are a pretty Lawyer.

Co. Tenant[246] per la Curtesie d'Engleterre est, hon home prent feme seisie in fee simple ou en fee taile generall, ou seisie come heire de la taile speciall et ad issue per mesme la fame, male ou female, oies ou wife, soit lissue apres mort ou en vie si la feme de aie, la baron tiendra la terre durant sa vie, per la ley dengleterre.

Sis. Nay, here's enough a Conscience! What a Noise this confusion of languages make; tis almost as good as a beare baiting. Harke you, Sir, you are never like to recover me by law.

Co. You are not the first sweet Ladie has been overthrowne at Common Lawe.

Sis. Not by tenn thousand, Sir. Confest: but I have no mind to come to issue with a Lawyer; when he should consider my cause at home, heele be at Westminster, teaching men the Statutes. No, no, I wo'not marry a Judge.

Co. Why, Lady?

Sis. They are casuall things and men that hold such strange opinions.

Co. Lady, you may be misinform'd: Astraea Hath not quite left the earth, and the abuses Of some which shame the calling are but like Patches of beauty on the shape of lawe To set the whitenes of.

Sis. Farewell, Sir: You are in love with a barrd gown, not beauty; If you will be my learned Counsell, leave it —This yong thing is a foole or a fine fellow. [Exit.

Co. She kicks and flings out like a Colt unwayed; Her witt's a better portion then her money; I would not love her yet, and I could help it.— My Uncle and his Mistres: Ile not hinder em.

[Ex.