THE NIGHT-WALKER, OR THE LITTLE THIEF.

Lur. JAck. Wild. What wind brought thee hither? In what [old] hollow tree, or rotten wall Hast thou been like a Swallow all this winter, Where hast thou been man? Lur. Following the Plow. Wild. What Plow? Thou hast no Land, Stealing is thy own purchase. Lur. The best inheritance. Wild. Not in my opinion, Thou hadst five hundred pound a year. Lur. 'Tis gone, Prethee no more on't, have I not told thee, And oftentimes, nature made all men equal, Her distribution to each child alike; Till labour came and thrust a new Will in, Which I allow not: till men won a priviledge By that they call endeavour, which indeed Is nothing but a lawful Cosenage, An allowed way to cheat, why should my neigh[bou]r That hath no more soul than his Horse-keeper, Nor bounteous faculties above a Broom-man, Have forty thousand pounds, and I four groats; Why should he keep it? Wi[l]. Thy old opinion still. Lur. Why should that Scrivener, That ne'er writ reason in his life, nor anything That time e'ver gloried in, that never knew How to keep any courtesie conceal'd, But Noverint Universi must proclaim it, Purchase perpetually, and I a rascal: Consider this, why should that mouldy Cobler Marry his Daughter to a wealthy Merchant, And give five thousand pounds, is this good justice? Because he has a tougher constitution; Can feed upon old Songs, and save his money, Therefore must I go beg? Wild. What's this to thee? Thou canst not mend [it], if thou beest determin'd To rob all like a Tyrant, yet take heed A keener justice do not overtake thee, And catch you in a Nooze. Lur. I am no Wood-cock, He that shall sit down frighted with that foolery Is not worth pity, let me alone to shuffle, Thou art for wenching. Wild. For beauty I, a safe course, No halter hangs in [my] way, I defie it. Lur. But a worse fate, a wilful poverty, For where thou gain'st by one that indeed loves thee, A thousand will draw from thee, 'tis thy destiny; One is a kind of weeping cross Jack, A gentle Purgatory, do not fling at all, You'll pay the Box so often, till you perish. Wild. Take you no care for that sir, 'tis my pleasure, I will imploy my wits a great deal faster Than you shall do your fingers, and my loves, If I mistake not, shall prove riper harvest And handsomer, and come within less danger. Where's thy young Sister? Lur. I know not where she is, she is not worth caring for, She has no wit. Oh you'd be nibling with her, She's far enough I hope, I know not where, She's not worth caring for, a sullen thing, She wou'd not take my counsel Jack, And so I parted from her. Wild. Leave her to her wants? Lur. I gave her a little money, what I could spare, She had a mind to th'Countrey, she is turn'd, By this, some Farriers dairy maid, I may meet her Riding from Market one day, 'twixt her Dorsers, If I do, by this hand I wo'not spare Her butter pence. Wild. Thou wilt not rob thy Sister. Lur. She shall account me for her Egs and Cheeses. Wild. A pretty Girl, did not old Algripe love her? A very pretty Girl she was. Lur. Some such thing, But he was too wise to fasten; let her pass. Wild. Then where's thy Mistriss? Lur. Where you sha'not find her, Nor know what stuff she is made on; no indeed Sir, I choose her not for your use. Wild. Sure she is handsome. Lur. Yes indeed is she, she is very handsome, but that's all one. Wild. You'll come to th' Marriage? Lur. Is it to day. Wild. Now, now, they are come from Church now. Lur. Any great preparation, Does Justice Algripe shew his power? Wild. Very glorious, and glorious people there. Lur. I may meet with him yet e're I dye as cunning as he is. Wild. You may do good Tom, at the [m]arriage, We have plate and dainty things. Lur. Do you no harm Sir; For yet methinks the Marriage should be mar'd If thou maist have thy will, farewell, say nothing. [Exit.

Wild. You are welcome noble friends. 1. I thank you Sir, Nephew to the old Lady, his name is Wildbrain, And wild his best condition. 2. I have heard of him, I pray ye tell me Sir, is young Maria merry After her Marriage rites? does she look lively? How does she like her man? Wild. Very scurvily, And as untowardly she prepares her self, But 'tis mine Aunts will, that this dull mettal Must be mixt with her to allay her handsomeness. 1. Had Heartlove no fast friends? Wild. His means are little, And where those littles are, as little comforts Ever keep company: I know she loves him, His memory beyond the hopes of —— Beyond the Indies in his mouldy Cabinets, But 'tis her unhandsome fate.

1. I am sorry for't, Here comes poor Frank, nay we are friends, start not Sir, We see you'r willow and are sorry for't, And though it be a wedding we are half mourners. Fr. Good Gentlemen remember not my fortunes, They are not to be help'd by words. Wild. Look up man, A proper sensible fellow and shrink for a wench? Are there no more? or is she all the handsomness? Fr. Prethee leave fooling. Wild. Prethee leave thou whining, Have maids forgot to love? Fr. You are injurious. Wild. Let 'em alone a while, they'll follow thee. 1. Come good Frank. Forget now, since there is no remedy, And shew a merry face, as wise men would do. 2. Be a free guest, and think not of those passages. Wild. Think how to nick him home, thou knowst she dotes on thee Graff me a dainty medler on his crabstocke; Pay me the dreaming puppy. Fr. Well, make your mirth, the whilst I bear my misery: Honest minds would have better thoughts. Wild. I am her Kinsman, A[n]d love her well, am tender of her youth, Yet honest Frank, before I would have that stinkard, That walking rotten tombe, enjoy her maidenhead. Fr. Prethee leave mocking. Wild. Prethee Frank believe me, Go to consider, hark, they knock to dinner. [Knock within. Come wo't thou go? 2. I prethee Frank go with us, And laugh and dance as we do. Fr. You are light Gentlemen, Nothing to weigh your hearts, pray give me leave, I'll come and see, and take my leave. Wild. We'll look for you, Do not despair, I have a trick yet. [Exit. Fr. [Yes,] When I am mischievous I will believe your projects: She is gone, for ever gone, I cannot help it, My hopes and all my happiness gone with her. Gone like a pleasing dream: what mirth and j[o]llity Raigns round about this house! how every office Sweats with new joyes, can she be merry too? Is all this pleasure set by her appointment? Sure she hath a false heart then; still they grow lowder, The old mans God, his gold, has won upon her, (Light hearted Cordial Gold) and all my services That offered naked truth, are clean forgotten: Yet if she were compell'd, but it cannot be, If I could but imagine her will mine, Although he had her body.

La. He shall come in. Walk without doors o'this day, though an enemy, It must not be. Wild. You must compel him Madam. La. No she shall fetch him in, Nephew it shall be so. Wild. It will be fittest. [Exit. Fr. Can fair Maria look again upon me? Can there be so much impudence in sweetness?

Or has she got a strong heart to defie me? She comes her self: how rich she is in Jewels! Methinks they show like frozen Isicles, Cold winter had hung on her, how the Roses That kept continual spring within her cheeks Are withered with [the] old mans dull embraces! She would speak to me. I can sigh too Lady But from a sounder heart: yes, and can weep too But 'tis for you, that ever I believ'd you, Tears of more pious value than your marriage; You would encase your self, and I must credit you, So much my old obedience compels from me; Go, and forget me, and my poverty, I need not bid you, you are too perfect that way: But still remember that I lov'd Maria, Lov'd with a loyal love, nay turn not from me, I will not ask a tear more, you are bountiful, Go and rejoyce, and I will wait upon you That little of my life left. Mar. Good Sir hear me, What has been done, was the act of my obedience And not my will: forc'd from me by my parents, Now 'tis done, do as I do, bear it handsomly And if there can be more society Without dishonor to my tye of marriage Or place for noble love, I shall love you still, You had the first, the last, had my will prosper'd; You talk of little time of life: dear Frank, Certain I am not married for eternity, The joy my marriage brings tells me I am mortal. And shorter liv'd than you, else I were miserable; Nor can the gold and ease his age hath brought me Add what I coveted, content; go with me, They seek a day of joy, prethee let's show it, Though it be forc'd, and by this kiss believe me However, I must live at his command now, I'll dye at yours. Fr. I have enough, I'll honor ye. [Exeunt.

Lur. Here are my trinkets, and this lusty marriage I mean to visit, I have shifts of all sorts, And here are a thousand wheels to set 'em working, I am very merry, for I know this wedding Will yield me lusty pillage: if mad Wildgoose That debosh'd rogue keep but his antient revels, And breed a hubbub in the house I am happy.

Now what are you? Boy. A poor distressed Boy, Sir, Friendless and comfortless, that would intreat Some charity and kindness from your worship, I would fain serve, Sir, and as fain endeavour With duteous labour to deserve the love Of that good Gentleman should entertain me. Lur. A pretty Boy, but of too mild a breeding, Too tender, and too bashful a behaviour, What canst thou do? Boy. I can learn any thing, That's good and honest, and shall please [Master.] Lur. He blushes as he speaks, and that I like not, I love a bold and secure confidence, An impudence that one may trust, this boy now: Had I instructed him, had been a Jewel, A treasure for my use, thou canst not lye? Boy. I would not willingly. Lur. Nor thou hast not wit To dissemble neatly? Boy. Do you love such boys, Sir? Lur. Oh mainly, mainly, I would have my Boy impudent, Out-face all truth, yet do it piously: Like Proteus, cast himself into all forms, As suddain and as nimble as his thoughts, Blanch at no danger, though it be the Gallows, Nor make no conscience of a cosenage, Though it be i' th' Church. Your soft, demure, still children— Are good for nothing, but to get long Graces—— And sing Songs to dull tunes; I would keep thee And cherish thee, hadst thou any active quality, And be a tender Master to thy knavery, But thou art not for my use. Bo[y]. Do you speak this seriously? Lur. Yes indeed do I. Boy. Would you have your boy Sir Read in these moral mischiefs? Lur. Now thou mov'st me. Boy. And be a well-train'd youth in all activities? Lur. By any means. Boy. Or do you this to try me, Fearing a prone[nesse]. Lur. I speak this to make thee. Boy. Then take me Sir, and cherish me, and love me, You have me what you would: believe me, Sir I can do any thing for your advantage, I guess at what you mean; I can lie naturally, As easily, as I can sleep Sir, and securely: As naturally I can steal too. Lur. That I am glad on, Right heartily glad on, hold thee there, thou art excellent. Boy. Steal any thing from any body living. Lur. Not from thy Master. Boy. That's mine own body: And must not be. Lur. The boy mends mightily. Boy. A rich man, that like snow heaps up his moneys, I have a kind of pious zeal to meet still; A fool that not deserves 'em, I take pitty on, For fear he should run mad, and so I ease him. Lur. Excellent boy, and able to instruct me, Of mine own nature just. Boy. I scorn all hazard, And on the edge of danger I do best, Sir, I have a thousand faces to deceive, And to those, twice so many tongues to flatter, An impudence, no brass was ever tougher, And for my conscience. Lur. Peace, I have found a Jewel, A Jewel all the Indies cannot match, And thou sha't feel— Boy. This title, and I ha' done, Sir; I never can confess, I ha' that spell on me; And such rare modesties before a Magistrate, Such innocence to catch a Judge, such ignorance. Lur. I'll learn of thee, thou art mine own, come boy, I'll give thee action presently. Boy. Have at you. Lur. What must I call thee? Boy. Snap, Sir. Lur. 'Tis most natural, A name born to thee, sure thou art a Fairy, Shew but thy skill, and I shall make thee happy.

La. Where be these knaves? who strues up all the liveries. Is the Bride's bed made? Tob. Yes Madam and a Bell Hung under it artificially. La. Out knave, out, Must we have 'larms now? Tob. A little warning That we may know [when] to begin our healths Madam; The Justice is a kind of old Jade, Madam, That will go merriest with a Bell. La. All the house drunk. Tob. This is a [day] of Jubile. La. Are the best hangings up? and the Plate set out? Who makes the Posset, Nurse? Nur. The dayrie mayd, And she'll put that in, will make him caper: Well Madam, well, you might ha'chose another, A handsomer for your years. La. Peace, he is rich Nurse, He is rich, and that's beauty. Nur. I am sure he is rotten, Would he had been hang'd when he first saw her. Termagant! La. What an angry Quean is this, where, Who looks to him? Tob. He is very merry Madam, M. Wildbrain, has him in hand, ith'bottom o'th'Sellar He sighs and tipples. Nur. Alass good Gentleman, My heart's sore for thee. La. Sorrow must have his course, sirra, Give him some Sack to dry up his remembrance, How does the Bridegroom, I was afraid of him. Nur. He is a trim youth to be tender of, hemp take him. Must my sweet new blown Rose find such a winter Before her spring be near. La. Peace, peace, thou art foolish. Nur. And dances like a Town-top: and reels, and hobbles. La. Alass, good Gentleman, give him not much wine. Tob. He shall ha'none by my consent. La. Are the women comforting my daughter? New. Yes, yes, Madam, And reading to her a pattern of true patience, They read and pray for her too. Nur. They had need, Ye had better marry her to her grave a great deal: There will be peace and rest, alass poor Gentlewoman, Must she become a Nurse now in her tenderness? Well Madam, well my heart bleeds. La. Thou art a fool still. Nur. Pray heaven I be. La. And an old fool to be vext thus. 'Tis late she must to bed, go knave be merry, Drink for a boy, away to all your charges. [Exit.

Wild. Do as thou wo't, but if thou dost refuse it Thou art the stupid'st ass, there's no long arguing, Time is too precious Frank. Fr. I am hot with wine. And apt now to believe, but if thou dost this Out of a villany, to make me wrong her, As thou art prone enough. Wild. Does she not love thee? Did she not cry down-right e'n now to part with thee? Had she not swounded if I had not caught her? Canst thou have more? Fr. I must confess all this. Wild. Do not stand prating, and misdoubting, casting, If she go from thee now, she's lost for ever; Now, now she's going, she that loves thee going, She whom thou lov'st. Fr. Pray let me think a little. Wild. There is no leisure; think when thou hast imbrac'd her Can she imagine thou di[d]st ever honor her? Ever believe thy oaths, that tamely suffer'st An old dry ham of horse-flesh to enjoy her? Enjoy her maiden-head; take but that from her That we may tell posterity a man had it, A handsome man, a Gentleman, a young man, To save the honor of our house, the credit, 'Tis no great matter I desire. Fr. I hear you. Wild. Free us both from the fear of breeding fools And ophs, got by this shadow: we talk too long. Fr. She is going [now] to bed, among the women, What opportunity can I have to meet her? Wild. Let me alone, hast thou a will? speak soundly, Speak discreetly, speak home and handsomly, Is't not pitty, nay misery, nay infamy to leave So rare a pie to be cut up by a raskal. Fr. I will go presently, now, now, I stay thee. Wild. Such a dainty Doe, to be taken By one that knows not neck-beef from a Phesant, Nor cannot rellish Braggat from Ambrosia. Is it not conscience? Fr. Yes, yes, now I feel it. Wild. A meritorious thing. Fr. Good Father Wildgoose, I do confess it. Wild. Come then follow me. And pluck a mans heart up, I'll lock thee privately, Where she alone shall presently pass by, None near to interupt thee but be sure. Fr. I shall be sure enough, lead on, and crown me. Wild. No wringings in your mind now as you love me. [Ex.

La. 'Tis time you were a bed. Ju. I prethee sweet-heart Consider my necessity, why art sad? I must tell you a tale in your ear anon. Nur. Of Tom Thumb. I believe that will prove your stiffest story. New. I pitty the young wench. 1. And so do I too. 2. Come, old sticks take fire. 1. But the plague is, he'll burn out instantly; Give him another cup. 2. Those are but flashes, A tun of sack wonot set him high enough. Will ye to bed? M. I must. 1. Come, have a good heart, And win him like a bowle to lye close to you, Make your best use. Ju. Nay prethee Duck go instantly, I'll dance a Jig or two to warm my body.

Wild. 'Tis almost midnight. La. Prethee to bed Maria. Wild. Go you afore, and let the Ladies follow, And leave her to her thoughts a while, there must be A time of taking leave of these same fooleries Bewailling others maiden-heads. La. Come then, We'll wait in the next room. Ju. Do not tarry. For if thou dost, by my troth I shall fall asleep Mall. [Ex. Wi[l]. Do, do, and dream of Doterels, get you to bed quickly, And let us ha'no more stir, come now, no crying, 'Tis too late now, carry your sel[fe] discreetly. The old thief loves thee dearly, that's the benefit. For the rest you must make your own play, Nay not that way, They'll pull ye all to pieces, for your whim-whams, Your garters and your gloves, go modestly, And privately steal to bed, 'tis very late Mall, For if you go by them such a new larum. Ma. I know not which way to avoid'em. Wi. This way, This through the Cloysters: and so steal to bed, When you are there once, all will separate And give ye rest, I came out of my pitty To shew you this. Ma. I thank you. Wi. Here's the keyes, Go presently and lock the doors fast after ye, That none shall follow. Ma. Good night. Wi. Good night sweet Cosen. A good, and sweet night, or I'll curse thee Frank. [Exit.

Fra. She stays long, sure young Wildgoose has abus'd me, He has made sport wi'me, I may yet get out again, And I may see his face once more, I ha'foul intentions, But they are drawn on by a fouler dealing

Hark, hark, it was the door, Something comes this way, wondrous still and stealing May be some walking spirit to affright me. Ma. Oh heaven my fortune. Fr. 'Tis her voice, stay. Ma. Save me, Bless me you better powers. Fr. I am no devil. Ma. Y'are little better to disturb me now. Fr. My name is Hartlove. Ma. Fye, fye, worthy friend. Fye noble Sir. Fr. I must talk farther with ye, You know my fair affection. Ma. So preserve it, You know I am married now, for shame be civiller, Not all the earth shall make me. Fr. Pray walk this way, And if you ever lov'd me. Ma. Take heed Frank How you divert that love to hate, go home prethee. Fr. Shall he enjoy that sweet? Mar. Nay pray unhand me. Fr. He that never felt what love was. Ma. Then I charge you stand farther off. Fr. I am tame, but let me walk wi'ye, Talk but a minute. Mar. So your talk be honest, And my untainted honor suffer not, I'll walk a turn or two. Fr. Give me your hand then. [Exit.

Just. Shee's not in her Chamber. La. She is not here. Wild. And I'll tell you what I dream'd. Ju. Give me a Torch. 1. G. Be not too hasty Sir. Wild. Nay let him go. For if my dream be true he must be speedy, He will be trickt, and blaz'd else. Nur. As I am a woman I cannot blame her if she take her liberty, Would she would make thee Cuckold, thou old bully, A notorious cuckold for tormenting her. La. I'll hang her then. Nur. I'll bless her then, she does justice, Is this old stinking dogs-flesh for her dyet? Wild. Prethee honest Nurse do not fret too much, For fear I dream you'll hang your self too. Just. The Cloister? Wild. Such was my fancy, I do not say 'tis true, Nor do I bid you be too confident. Ju. Where are the keyes, the keyes I say. Wild. I dream'd she had 'em to lock her self in. Nur. What a devil do you mean?

Wild. No harm, good Nurse be patient. Ser. They are not in the window, where they use to be. Wild. What foolish dreams are these? Ju. I am mad. Wild. I hope so, If you be not mad, I'll do my best to m[ake y]e. 1. This is some trick. 2. I smell the Wildgoose. Ju. Come Gentlemen, come quickly I beseech you, Quick as you can, this may be your case Gentlemen. And bring some light[s], some lights. [Exit. Wild. Move faster, faster, you'll come too late else. I'll stay behind and pray for ye, I had rather she were dishonest Than thou shouldst have her.

Mar. Y'are most unmanly, yet I have some breath left; And this steel to defend me, come [not] near me, For if you offer but another violence, As I have life I'll kill you, if I miss that, Upon my own heart will I execute, And let that fair belief out, I had of you. Fr. Most vertuous Maid, I have done, forgive my follies: Pardon, O pardon, I now see my wickedness, And what a monstrous shape it puts upon me, On your fair hand I seal.

Ju. Down with the door. Ma. We are betraid, oh Frank, Frank. Fr. I'll dye for ye Rather than you shall suffer, I'll— [Enter all. Ju. Now enter. Enter sweet Gentlemen, mine eyes, mine eyes, Oh how my head [a]kes. 1. Is it possible? 2. Hold her, she sinks. Ma. A plot upon my honor To poyson my fair name, a studied villany, Farewell, as I have hope of peace, I am honest. Ju. My brains, my brains, my monstrous brains, they bud sure. Nu. She is gone, she is gone. Ju. A handsome riddance of her. Would I could as easily lose her memory. Nur. Is this the sweet of Marriage, have I bred thee For this reward? 1. Hold, hold, he's desperate too. Ju. Be sure ye hold him fast, we'll bind him over To the next Sessions, and if I can, I'll hang him. Fr. Nay then I'll live to be a terror to thee, Sweet Virgin Rose farewell: heaven has thy beauty, That's only fit for heaven. I'll live a little To find the Villain out that wrought this injury, And then most blessed soul, I'll climb up to thee. Farewell, I feel my self another creature. [Exit. La. Oh misery of miseries. Nu. I told ye Madam. La. Carry her in, you will pay back her portion? Ju. No not a penny, pay me back my credit, And I'll condition wi'ye. La. A sad wedding, Her grave must be her Bridal bed: oh Mall, Would I had wed thee to thy own content, Then I had had thee still. Ju. I am mad, farewell, Another wanton wife will prove a hell. [Exeunt.

Lur. WHat hast thou done? Boy. I have walked through all the lodgings. A silence as if death dwelt there inhabits. Lur. What hast thou seen? Boy. Nought but a sad confusion Every thing left in such a loose disorder That were there twenty theeves, they would be laden. Lu. 'Tis very well, I like thy care, but 'tis strange A wedding night should be so solitary. Boy. Certainly there is some cause, some death or sickness Is faln suddenly upon some friend, Or some strange news is come. Lu. Are they all a bed? Boy. I think so, and sound asleep, unless it be Some women that keep watch in a low parlor, And drink, and weep, I know not to what end. Lur. Where's all the plate? Boy. Why lockt up in that room. I saw the old Lady, ere she went to bed Put up her plate, and some of the rich hangings In a small long chest, and chains and rings are there too, It stands close by the Table on a form. Lur. 'Twas a good notice, didst thou see the men. Boy. I saw them sad too, and all take their leaves, But what they said I was too far to hear Sir. Lur. 'Tis daintily discover'd, we shall certainly Have a most prosperous night, which way? Boy. A close one, A back door, that the women have left open, To go in and out to fetch necessaries, Close on the Garden side. Lur. I love [thy] diligence, Wert thou not fearful? Boy. Fearful? I'll be hang'd first. Lur. Say they had spied thee. Boy. I was then determin'd To have cry'd down right too, and have kept 'em company, As one that had an interest in their sadness, Or made an errand to I know not whom Sir. Lur. My dainty Boy, let us discharge, that plate Makes a perpetual motion in my fingers, Till I have fast hold of it. Boy. Pray be wise Sir, do't handsomly, be not greedy, Lets handle it with such an excellence As if we would bring thieving into honor: We must disguise, to fright these reverend wat[ch]es. Lur. Still my blest Boy. Boy. And clear the room of drunken jealousies, The chest is of some weight, and we may make Such noise [ith] carriage we may be snap'd. Lur. Come open, here's a devils face. Boy. No, no, Sir, wee'l have no shape so terrible, We will not do the devil so much pleasure, To have him face our plot. Lur. A winding sheet then. Boy. That's too cold a shift, I would not wear the reward of my wickedness, I wonder you are an old thief, and no cunninger, Where's the long Cloak? Lur. Here, here. Boy. Give me the Turbant And the false beard, I hear some coming this way, Stoop, stoop, and let me sit upon your shoulders, And now as I direct, stay, let them enter, And when I touch move forward, make no noise.

Nur. Oh 'tis a sad time, all the burnt wine is [drunke] Nic. Tob. We may thank your dry chaps for't, the Canarie's gone too No substance for a sorrowful mind to work upon, I cannot mourn in beer, if she should walk now As discontented spirits are wont to do. Nur. And meet us in the Cellar. Tob. What fence have we with single beer against her? What heart can we defie the Devil with? Nur. The March beer's open. Tob. A fortification of March beer will do well, I must confess 'tis a most mighty Armor, For I presume I cannot pray. Nur. Why Nicolas? Tob. We Coachmen have such tumbling faiths, no prayrs Can go an even pace. Nur. Hold up your candle. Tob. Verily Nurse, I have cry'd so much For my young Mistriss, that is mortified, That if I have not more sack to support me, I shall even sleep: heiho, for another flagon; These Burials, and Christnings are the mournful[st] matters, And they ask more drink. Nur. Drink to a sad heart's needful. To. Mine's ever sad, for I am ever dry Nurse. Nur. Methinks the light burns blew, I prethee snuff it, There's a thief in't I think. To. There may be one near it. Nur. What's that that moves there, ith' name of——Nicholas? That thing that walks. T[o]. Would I had a Ladder to behold it, Mercy upon me, the Ghost of one oth'Guard sure, 'Tis the devil by his clawes, he smels of Brimstone, Sure he farts fire, what an Earth-quake I have in me; Out with thy Prayer-book Nurse. Nur. It fell ith' the frying pan, and the Cat's eat it. Tob. I have no power to pray, it grows still longer, 'Tis Steeple high now, and it sayls away Nurse. Lets call the butler up, for he speaks Latine, And that will daunt the devil: I am blasted, My belly's grown to nothing. Nu. Fye, fye, Tobie. [Exit. Boy. So let them go, and whilst they are astonish'd Let us presently upon the rest now suddenly. Lur. Off, off, and up agen, when we are near the parlor, Art sure thou knowst the Chest? Boy. Though it were ith'dark Sir, I can go to't. Lur. On then and be happy. [Exit.

Tob. How my haunches quake, is the thing here still? Now can I out-do any Button-maker, at his own trade, I have fifteen fits of an Ague, Nurse, 'tis gone I hope, The hard-hearted woman has left me alone. Nurse— And she knows too I ha but a lean conscience to keep me company.

The devil's among 'em in the Parlour sure, The Ghost three stories high, he has the Nurse sure, He is boyling of her bones now, hark how she whistles: There's Gentlewomen within too, how will they do? I'll to the Cook, for he was drunk last night, And now he is valiant, he is a kin to th'devil too, And fears no fire.

Lur. No light? Boy. None left Sir, They are gone, and carried all the candles with 'em, Their fright is infinite, let's make good use on't, We must be quick sir, quick, or the house will rise else. Lu. Was this the Chest? Boy. Yes, yes. Lur. There was two of 'em. Or I mistake. Boy. I know the right, no stay Sir, Nor no discourse, but to our labor lustily, Put to your strength and make as little noise, Then presently out at the back door. Lur. Come Boy. Come happy child and let me hug thy excellence. [Exit.

Wild. What thousand noises pass through all the rooms! What cryes and hurries! sure the devil's drunk. And tumbles through the house, my villanies That never made me apprehend before Danger or fear, a little now molest me; My Cosens death sits heavy o'my conscience, Would I had been half hang'd when I hammer'd it. I aim'd at a living divorce, not a burial That Frank might have had some hope: hark still In every room confusion, they are all mad, Most certain all stark mad within the house, A punishment inflicted for my lewdness, That I might have the more sense of my mischief, And run the more mad too, my Aunt is hang'd sure, Sure hang'd her self, or else the fiend has fetch'd her. I heard a hundred cryes, the Devil, the Devil, Th[e]n roaring, and then tumbling, all the chambers Are a meer Babel, or another Bedlam. What should I think? I shake my self too: Can the Devil find no time, but when we are merry, Here's something comes.

New. Oh that I had some company, I care not what they were, to ease my misery, To comfort me. Wild. Whose that? New. Again? nay then receive— Wild. Hold, hold I am no fury. The Merchants wife. New. Are ye a man? pray heaven you be. Wild. I am. New. Alass I have met Sir The strangest things to night. Wild. Why do you stare. New. Pray comfort me, and put your candle out, For if I see the spirit again I dye for't. And hold me fast, for I shall shake to pieces else. Wild. I'll warrant you, I'll hold ye, Hold ye as tenderly; I have put the light out, Retire into my Chamber, there I'll watch wi'ye, I'll keep you from all frights. New. And will ye keep me. Wild. Keep you as secure Lady. New. You must not wrong me then, the devil will have us. Wild. No, no, I'll love you, then the devil will fear us. For he fears all that love, pray come in quickly, For this is the malicious house he walks in, The hour he blasts sweet faces, lames the limbs in, Depraves the senses, now within this half hour He will have power to turn all Citizens wives Into strange Creatures, Owles, and long-tail'd Monkeys, Jayes, Pies, and Parrots, quickly, I smell his brimstone. New. It comes agen I am gone shift for your self Sir. [Exit. Wild. Sure this whole night is nothing but illusion, Here's nothing comes, all they are mad, damn'd devil To drive her back again, 't had been thy policy To have let us alone, we might have done some fine thing To have made thy hel-hood laugh, 'tis a dainty wench, If I had her again, not all your fellow goblins, Nor all their clawes should scratch her hence, I'll stay still, May be her fright will bring her back again, Yet I will hope.

Tob. I can find no bed, no body, nor no chamber, Sure they are all ith'Cellar, and I cannot find that neither, I am led up and down like a tame ass, my light's out And I grope up and down like blind-man-buffe, And break my face, and break my pate. Wild. It comes again sure I see the shadow, I'll have faster hold now, Sure she is mad, I long to lye with a mad-woman, She must needs have rare new tricks. Tob. I hear one whisper If it be the devil now to allure me into his clutches, For devils have a kind of tone like crickets. [Wild.] I have a glimpse of her guise, 'tis she would steal [by] me, But I'll stand sure. Tob. I have but a dram of wit left, And that's even ready to run, oh for my bed now. Wild. She nam'd a bed, I like that, she repents sure, Where is she now? Tob. Who's that? Wild. Are you there, In, In, In presently. Tob. I feel his talents through me, 'Tis an old haggard devil, what will he do with me? Wild. Let me kiss thee first, quick, quick. Tob. A leacherous Devil. Wild. What a hairy whore 'tis, sure she has a muffler. Tob. If I should have a young Satan by him, for I dare not deny him, In what case were I? who durst deliver me? Wild. 'Tis but my fancy, she is the same, in quickly, gently my Sweet girl. Tob. Sweet devil be good to me. [Exeunt.

Lur. Where's my love, Boy. Boy. She's coming with a Candle To see our happy prize. Lur. I am cruel weary. Boy. I cannot blame ye, plate is very heavy To carry without light or help. Lur. The fear too At every stumble to be discover'd boy, At every cough to raise a Constable, Well, we'll be merry now. Boy. We have some reason; Things compass'd without fear or eminent danger, Are too luxurious sir to live upon. Money and wealth got thus are as full venture, And carry in their nature as much merit As his, that digs 'em out 'oth' mine, they last too Season'd with doubts and dangers most delitiously, Riches that fall upon us are too ripe, And dull our appetites. Lu. Most learned child.

Mi. Y'are welcome, where have you left it. Lu. In the next room, hard by. Mi. Is it plate all. Lu. All, all, and Jewels, I am monstrous weary, Prethee let's go to bed. Mi. Prethee lets see it first. Lu. To morrow's a new day sweet. Mi. Yes to melt it, But let's agree to night, how it shall be handled, I'll have a new gown. Lur. 'Shat have any thing. Mi. And such a riding suit as Mistress Newloves: What though I be no Gentlewoman born, I hope I may atchieve it by my carriage. Lu. Thou sayst right. Mi. You promis'd me a horse too, and a lackquay. Lur. Thou shalt have horses six, and a postilion. Mi. That will be stately sweet heart, a postilion. Lu. Nay, we'll be in fashion; he shall ride before us In winter, with as much dirt would dampe a musket; The inside of our coach shall be of scarlet. Mi. That will be dear. Lu. There is a dye projecting Will make it cheap, wench, come thou shalt have any thing. Mi. Where is this chest, I long, sweet, to behold Our Indies. Boy. Mistress lets melt it first, and then 'tis fit You should dispose it, then 'tis safe from danger. Mi. I'll be a loving Mistress to my boy too. Now fetch it in and lets rejoyce upon't. Boy. Hold your light Mistress, we may see to enter. Mi. Ha what's here? call you this a chest? Boy. We ha mist Sir. Our haste and want of light made us mistake. Mi. A very Coffin. Lu. How! a Coffin? Boy, 'tis very like one. Boy. The devil ow'd us a shame, and now he has paid us. Mi. Is this your Treasure? Boy. Bury me alive in't. Lu. It may be there is no room. Mi. Nay, I will search it: I'll see what wealth's within,—a womans face, And a fair womans. Boy. I cannot tell sir, Belike this was the sadness that possest 'em; The plate stood next, I'm sure. Lur. I shake, I shake Boy, what a cold sweat— Boy. This may work, what will become on's Sir? Mi. She is cold, dead cold: de'e find 'your conscience, De'e bring your Gillians hither—nay, she's punish'd, You conceal'd love's cas'd up? Lur. 'Tis Maria, the very same, the Bride, new horror! Mi. These are fine tricks, you hope she's in a sound But I'll take order she shall ne'r recover To bore my Nose, come, take her up and bury her Quickly, or I'll cry out; take her up instantly. Lu. Be not so hasty fool, that may undo us; We may be in for murther so; be patient, Thou seest she's dead, and cannot injure thee. Mi. I am sure she shall not. Boy. Be not, Sir, dejected, Too much a strange mistake! this had not been else, It makes me almost weep to think upon't. Lu. What an unlucky thief am I! Mi. I'll no considering, either bestir your self, or— Lu. Hold. Mi. Let it not stay, to smell then, I will not Indure the stink of a Rival. Lu. Would 'twere there again. Boy. We must bury her. Lur. But were o'th sudden, or with what providence, That no eyes watch us. Mi. Take a Spade and follow me, The next fair ground we meet, make the Church-yard; As I live, I'll see her lodg'd. [Exit. Lu. It must be so, How heavy my heart is, I ha no life left. Boy. I am past thinking too, no understanding, That I should miss the right Chest. Lu. The happy Chest. Boy. That, which I saw and markt too. Lu. Well passion wo'not help us, Had I twenty falls for this! Boy. 'Twas my fault sir. And twenty thousand fears for this, oth'devil, Now could I curse, well, we have her now, And must dispose her.

Mi. Hang both for two blind buzzards, here's a Spade Quickly or I'll call the neighbors. There's no remedy, Would the poor hungry prisoners had this pastie. [Exeunt.

Ser. 'Twas a strange mischance Sir. Ju. Mischance, sayst? No 'twas happiness to me, There's so much charge say'd, I have her portion, I'll marry twenty more on such conditions. Ser. Did it not trouble you Sir, To see her dead? Ju. Not much, I thank my conscience; I was tormented till that happen'd, furies Were in my brain to think my self a Cuckold At that time of the night: When I come home, I charge you shut my doors, Locks, bolts, and bars, are little enough to secure me. Ser. Why, and please you? Ju. Fool to ask that question; To keep out women, I expect her Mother Will visit me with her clamors, oh I hate Their noise, and do abhor the whole sex heartily; They are all walking Devils, Harpyes: I will study A week together how to rail sufficiently, Upon 'em all, and that I may be furnish'd, Thou shalt buy all the railing Books and Ballads, That Malice hath invented against women, I will read nothing else, and practise 'em, Till I grow fat with curses. Ser. If you'll go To th'charge, let me alone to find you Books. Ju. They come neer us. Ser. Whats that? Ju. Where? hold up the Torch Knave. Ser. Did you hear nothing, 'tis a —— Ju. Why dost make a stand? Ser. Whats that? Ju. Where, where, dost see any thing? We are hard by the Church-yard, and I was never Valiant at midnight in such irksome places; They say Ghosts walk sometimes, hark, de'e hear nothing?

Mi. No farther, dig here, and lay her in quickly. Lur. What light is that Boy, we shall be discover'd; Set the Coffin up an end, and get behind me, There's no avoiding. Boy. Oh! Ju. Where's that groan? I begin to be afraid. Ser. What shall we do Sir? Ju. We are almost at home now, thou must go forward, Perhaps 'twas my imagination. Lur. 'Tis he? Boy. I know him too, let me alone. Ser. Oh Sir, a Ghost, the very Ghost of Mistress Bride, I have no power to run away. Ju. Cursed Ghost, bless me, preserve me, I do command thee what so ere thou art, I do conjure thee leave me; do not fright me; If thou beest a devil vex me not so soon, If thou beest The spirit of my wife. Boy. Thy Wife. Ju. I shall be tormented. Boy. Thy abus'd wife, that cannot peaceably Enjoy her death, thou hast an evil conscience. Ju. I know it. Boy. Among thy other sins which black thy soul, Call to thy mind thy vow made to another, Whom thou hast wrong'd, and make her satisfaction Now I am dead, thou perjur'd man: or else A thousand black tormentors shall pursue thee, Untill thou leap into eternal flames; Where gold which thou ador[e]'st here on earth Melted, the fiends shall powre into thy throat; For this time pass, go home and think upon me. Lur. Away. Ser. There are more spirits. Ju. Thank you dear wife, I'll bestow twenty nobles of a Tomb for thee, Thou shalt not walk and catch cold after death. [They go Backward in. Lu. So, so, they'r gone, 'twas my ingenious rascal: But how dost thou know he made vows to another? Boy. I over-heard the woman talk to night on't; But now let's lose no time Sir, pray lets bury This Gentlewoman, where's my Mistress?

Mi. Here I durst not tarry. Lu. We ha so cosen'd the old forty i'th hundred, And the devil hinder him not, he'll go a pilgrimage; But come, about our business, set her down again. Mar. Oh! Lur. She groans, ha. Mar. Oh! Lur. Again, she stirs. Mi. Lets fly, or else we shall be torn in pieces. Lur. And you be good at that, bury your self, Or let the Sexton take ye for his fee, Away boy. [Exit. Mar. I am very cold, dead cold; Where am I? What's this? a Coffin? where have I been? Mercy defend me: Ha? I do remember I was betray'd, and swounded, my heart akes, I am wondrous hungry too, dead bodies eat not; Sure I was meant for burial, I am frozen; Death, 'like a cake of Ice dwells round about me; Darkness spreads o're the world too, where? what path? Best providence direct me. [Exit.

La. THou art the most unfortunate fellow. Wild. Why Aunt what have I done? La. The most malicious varlet, Thy wicked head never at rest, but hammering, And ha[t]ching hellish things, and to no purpose, So thou mayst have thy base will. Wi. Why do you rail thus? Cannot a scurvy accident fall out, But I must be at one end on't? La. Thou art at both ends. Wi. Cannot young sullen wenches play the fools And marry, and dye, but I must be the agent? All that I did (and if that be an injury, Let the world judge it) was but to perswade her, And (as I take it) I was bound to it too, To make the reverend coxcombe her husband Cuckold: What else could I advise her? was there harm i'this? You are of years, and have run through experience, Would you be content if you were young again, To have a continual cough grow to your pillow? A rottenness, that vaults are perfumes to; Hang in your roof, and like a fog infect you? Anointed hammes, to keep his hinges turning, Reek ever in your nose, and twenty night caps, With twenty several sweats? To. Some Jew, some Justice, A thousand heathen smels to say truth Madam, And would you mellow my young pretty Mistriss In such a mis-ken? La. Sirra, Where's the body of my Girl? Wi. I know not, I am no Conjurer, you may look the body, I was like to be stol'n away my self, the Spirit Had like to ha surpris'd me in the shape of a woman, Of a young woman, and you know those are dangerous. To. So had I Madam, simply though I stand here, I had been ravish'd too: I had twenty Spirits, In every corner of the house a Fiend met me. La. You lye like Raskals, Was Mistriss Newlove such a spirit Sir? To fright your worship; Well, I discharge you Sir, y'are now at liberty, Live where you please, and do what pranks you fancy, You know your substance: though you are my Nephew, I am no way bound Sir to protect your mischief; So fare you well. Wi. Farewell good Aunt, I thank you, Adiew honest Nick, the devil if he have power, Will persecute your old bones, for this Marriage, Farewell Mistress Win. To. And shall we part with dry lips? Shall we that have been fellow devils together Flinch for an old womans fart? Wi. 'Tis a fine time a night too, but we must part Nick. To. Shall we never ring again? ne'r toss the tenor, And roul the changes [in] a Cup of Clarret? You shall not want what ere I lay my hands on, As I am sure Automedon the Coachman, Shall be distributed; bear up, I say, hang sorrow, Give me that bird abroad that lives at pleasure, Sam the Butler's true, the Cook a reverend Trojan, The Faulkner shall sell his Hawks, and swear they were rotten, There be some wandring spoons, that may be met with, I'll pawn a Coach horse, peace, utter no sentences. The har[nesse] shall be us'd in our wars also; Or shall I drive her (tell me but your will now, Say but the word) over some rotten bridg, Or by a Marl-pit side, she may slip in daintily, Let me alone for my self. Wi. No, no, farewell Toby, Farewell spiny Nicholas, no such thing, There be ways i'the world, if you see me A day or two hence, may be wee'l crack a quart yet, And pull a bell, commend to the houshold; Nay, cry not Toby, 'twill make thy head giddy. To. Sweet Master Wildbraine. Wi. No more Toby, go the times may alter— But where's the coarse of my dead cosen, (If she be dead) I hop'd 'thad but dissembled That sits heavy here: Toby, honest Toby, Lend me thy Lanthorn, I forgot 'twas dark, I had need look to my ways now. To. Take a lodging with me to night in the Stable, And ride away to morrow with one of the horses, Next your heart, pray do. Wi. No, good night good neighbor Toby, I will wander, I scorn to submit my self, ere I have rambled, But whither, or with what, that's more material; No matter, and the worst come, it is but stealing, And my Aunt wo'not see me hang'd for her own credit, And farewel in a Halter costs me nothing. [Exit.

Fran. The night, and all the evil the night covers, The Goblins, Haggs, and the black spawn of darkness, Cannot fright me: no death, I dare thy cruelty. For I am weary both of life and light too; Keep my wits heaven, they say spirits appear To melancholy minds, and the graves open, I would fain see the fair Maria's shadow, But speak unto her spirit e'er I dyed, But ask upon my knees a mercy from her; I was a villain, but her wretched kinsman, That set his plot, shall with his heart-blood satisfie Her injur'd life and honor, what light's this?

Wild. It is but melancholy walking thus; The Tavern doors are baracado'd too, Where I might drink till morn in expectation; I cannot meet the Watch neither; nothing in The likeness of a Constable, whom I might, In my distress, abuse, and so be carried, For want of other lodging, to the Counter. Fra. 'Tis his voice, Fate, I thank thee. Wild. Ha, who's that, and thou be'st a man speak? Frank Hartlove, then I bear my destinies, Thou art the man of all the world I wish'd for; My Aunt has turn'd me out a doors, she has, At this unchristian hour, and I do walk, Methinks like Guido Faux with my dark Lanthorn, Stealing to set the Town a fire; i'th' Countrey I should be tane for William o' the Wispe, Or: Robin Good-fellow, and how dost Frank? Ha. The worse for you. Wild. Come, tha'rt a fool, art going to thy lodging? I'll lie with thee to night, and tell thee stories, How many devils we ha met withal; Our house is haunted Frank, whole legions, I saw fifty for my share. Fr. Didst not fright 'em? Wild. How; fright 'em? no, they frighted me sufficiently. Fr. Thou hadst wickedness enough to make them stare, And be afraid o' thee, malicious devil; And draw thy sword, for by Maria's soul; I will not let thee scape to do more mischief. Wild. Thou art mad, what dost mean? Fr. To kill thee, nothing else will ease my anger, The injury is fresh, I bleed withal, Nor can that word express it, theres no peace in't, Nor must it be forgiven, but in death; Therefore call up thy valour, if thou'st any. And summon up thy spirits to defend thee; Thy heart must suffer for thy damn'd practises, Against thy noble cosin, and my innocence. Wild. Hold, hear a word; did I do any thing But for your good, that you might have her, That in that desperate time I might redeem her, Although with shew of loss. Fr. Out ugly villain, Fling on her the most hated name of whore To the worlds eye, and face it out in courtesie, Bring him to see't, and make me drunk to attempt it.

Ma. I hear some voices this way. Fr. No more, if you can pray, do it as you fight. Ma. What new frights oppose me? I have heard that tongue. Wild. 'Tis my fortune. You could not take me in a better time, Sir, I ha nothing to lose but the love I lent thee, My life my sword protect. Ma. I know 'em both, but to prevent their ruines, Must not discover—stay men most desperate; The mischief you are forward to commit Will keep me from my grave, and tie my spirit To endless troubles else. Wild. Ha, 'tis her Ghost. Fr. Maria? Ma. Hear me both, each wound you make Runs through my soul, and is a new death to me, Each threatening danger will affright my rest; Look on me Hartlove, and my kinsman view me; Was I not late in my unhappy marriage, Sufficient miserable? full of all misfortunes? But you must add, with your most impious angers, Unto my sleeping dust this insolence? Would you teach time to speak eternally Of my disgraces; make Records to keep 'em, Keep them in brass? fight then, and kill my honor; Fight deadly both, and let your bloody swords, Through my reviv'd, and reeking infamy (That never shall be purg'd) find your own ruines: Hartlove, I lov'd thee once, and hop'd again In a more blessed love to meet thy spirit, If thou kill'st him, thou art a murtherer, And murther shall never inherit heaven: My time is come, my concealed grave expects me, Farewel, and follow not, your feet are bloody, And will pollute my peace: I hope they are melted, This is my way sure. [Exit. Fr. Stay blessed soul. Wi. Would she had come sooner, and ha sav'd some blood. Fr. Dost bleed? Wild. Yes certainly, I can both see and feel it. Fr. Now I well hope it is not dangerous; Give me thy hand, as [farre as] honor guides me, I'll know thee again. Wild. I thank thee heartily; I know not where to get a Surgeon; This vision troubles me, sure she is living, And I was foolish blind, I could not find it; I bleed apace still, and my heart grows heavy, If I go far I faint, I'll knock at this house, They may be charitable, would 'twere perfect day.

Mist. 'Tis not he: What would you, Sir? Wild. I would crave a little rest Lady, And for my hurts some Surgerie, I am a Gentleman That fortune of a fight— Mist. A handsome Gentleman, Alas he bleeds, a very handsome Gentleman. Wild. A sweet young wench, beshrew my heart a fair one; Fortune has made me some recompence. Mist. Pray come in, the air is hurtful for you, Pray let me lead you, I'll have a bed for you presently, I'll be your Surgeon too, alas sweet Gentleman. Wild. I feel no hurts, the morning comes too fast now. Mist. Softly, I beseech you. [Exit.

Tob. He is not up yet Madam, what meant you To come forth so early? La. You blockhead; Your eyes are sow'd up still, they cannot see When it is day: oh my poor Maria; Where be the women? Tob. They said they would follow us. La. He shall not laugh thus at my misery, And kill my child, and steal away her body, And keep her portion too. Tob. Let him be hang'd for't, You have my voice. La. These women not come yet? A Son-in-law, I'll keep a Conjurer, But I'll find out his knavery. Tob. Do, and I'll help him. And if he were here, this whip should conjure him, Here's a Capias, and it catch hold on's breech, I'de make him soon believe the Devil were there. La. An old Usurer. Tob. He married the money, that's all he lookt for; For your daughter, let her sink or swim. La. I'll swim him; This is his house, I wonder they stay thus, That we might rail him out on's wits. Tob. They'll come, Fear not Madam, and bring clappers with 'em, Or some have lost their old wont, I have heard, No disparagement to your Ladyship, some o' their tongues Like Tom-a-Lincoln, three miles off. La. Oh fie, How tedious are they? Tob. What and we lost no time, You and I shall make a shift to begin with him, And tune our Instruments till the Consort come To make up the full noise, I'll knock. Ju. Who's that rapt so saucily? Tob. 'Tis I, Toby, come down, or else we'll fetch you down, Alas, this is but the [Saunce] bell, here's a Gentlewoman Will ring you another peal, come down, I say. Ju. Some new fortifications, look to my doors, Put double barrs, I will not have her enter, Nor any of her Tribe, they come to terrifie me: Keep out her tongue too, if you can. La. I hear you, And I will send my tongue up to your worship, The eccho of it shall flye o'er the street; My Daughter that thou killedst with kindness (Jew) That thou betrayedst to death, thou double Jew, And after stol'st her body. Tob. Jew's too good for him. Ju. I defie you both; Thy daughter plaid the villain and betraid me. Betrai'd my honor. La. Honor, Rascal, And let that bear an action, I'll try it with thee, Honor? Tob. Oh Reprobate! La. Thou musty Justice, Buy an honourable halter and hang thy self. [T]ob. A worshipful ropes end is too good for him. La. Get honor that way, thou wot die a dog else. Tob. Come and be whipt first. La. Where is her Portion.

Ju. Where I'll keep it safely. Nur. Traitor, thou shall not keep it. Ju. More of the kennel? put more bolts to th' doors there, And arm your selves, hell is broke loose upon us. Tob. I am glad y'are come, we'll blow the house down. La. Oh Nurse, I have such cause— Wo. Villain, viper, although you had no cause, we are bound To help. Nur. Yes, and believe, we come not here to examine, And if you please we'll fire the house. Ju. Call the Constable. Tob. A charitable motion, fire is comfortable. La. No, no, we'll only let him know our minds, We will commit no outrage, he's a Lawyer. Ju. Give me my Musket. La. Where's my daughters body, That I may bury it? Wo. Speak, or we'll bury thee. Nur. Alive, we'll bury thee, speak old Iniquity. Tob. Bury him alive by all means for a testimony. Ju. Their voices make my house reel, oh for Officers, I am in a dream, thy daughters spirit [Walkes] a nights, and troubles all the neigh[bou]rs: Go hire a Conjurer, I'll say no more. La. The Law shall say more. Wo. Nur. We are Witnesses, And if thou be'st not hang'd—

Lur. Buy a Book of good manners, A short Book of good manners. Boy. Buy a ballad, a ballad of the maid was got with child. Tob. That might ha been my case last night, I'll ha't, what e'er it cost me. Boy. A ballad of the Witches hang'd at Ludlow. Tob. I will have that too; There was an Aunt of mine, I think amongst 'em, I would be glad to hear her Testament. Lur. A new Book of Women. Ju. The thunder's laid, how they stare at him. Lur. A new Book of Fools, a strange Book, Very strange fools. Ju. I'll owe thee a good turn, whate'er thou art. Lur. A Book of Walking Spirits. Ju. That I like not. Tob. Nor I, they walk'd me the Fools Morris. Lur. A Book of Wicked Women. Ju. That's well thought on. [L]ur. Of rude, malicious Women, of proud Women, Of scolding Women, we shall ne'er get in. Boy. A ballad of wrong'd Maids. La. I'll buy that. Lur. A little, very little Book, Of good and godly Women, a very little one, So little you may put it in a Nutshel. Tob. With a small print that no body can read it. Nur. Peace sirrah, or I'll tear your Books. Ju. Open the door and let him in, I love him. Lur. A Book of evil Magistrates. La. I marry d'ye hear that Justice. Lur. And their eviller wives, That wear their Places in their Petticoats. Ju. D'ye hear that Lady. Boy. A Book new printed against Playing, Dancing, Masking, May-poles; a zealous Brothers Book, And full of Fables. Lur. Another Book of Women, of mad women, Women that were born in March. [Exit. La. Are you got in? We would ha pull'd your knaves hide else; this fellow Was sent to abuse us, but we shall have time To talk more with this Justice. Ju. Farewel Madam, as you like this, come visit me agen, You and your treble strings, now scold your hearts out— Wo. Shall he carry it thus away? Nur. Go to the Judge, and what you'll have us swear— La. I thank ye heartily, I'll keep that for the last, I will go home, And leave him to his Conscience for a while, If it sleep long, I'll wake it with a vengeance. [Exit.

1. What book has he given thee? 2. A dainty book, a book of the great Navy, Of fifteen hundred ships of Cannon-proof, Built upon Whales to keep their keels from sinking: And Dragons in 'em, that spit fire ten mile; And Elephants that carry goodly Castles. 1. Dost thou believe it? 2. Shall we not believe Books in print? 1. I have John Taylors book of Hempseed too, Which for two lines I hapned on by chance, I reverence. 2. I prethee what are they? 1. They are so pat upon the time, as if He studied to answer the late Histriomastix, Talking of change and transformations, That wittily, and learnedly he bangs him, So many a Puritans ruff, though starch'd in print, Be turn'd to Paper, and a Play writ in't [A Play in the Puritans ruff? I'll buy his Works for't, And confute Horace with a Water Poet:] What hast there a Ballad too? 2. [This?] This is a piece of Poetry indeed;

What noise is that? 1. Some cry i th' streets; prethee sing on. [Sing[s] again. 2. Agen, dost not hear? 'tis i'th' house certainly? 1. 'Tis a strange noise! and has a tang o'th' Justice. 2. Let's see! [Exit.

1. Untie his feet, pull out his gagg, he will choak else; What desperate rogues were these. 2. Give him fresh air. Ju. I will never study books more: I am undone, these villains have undone me. Rifled my Desk, they have undone me learnedly: A fire take all their Books, I'll burn my Study: Where were you rascals when the villains bound me, You could not hear? 1. He gave us Books, Sir, dainty Books to busie us; And we were reading, in that which was the Brew-house; A great way off, we were singing Ballads too; And could not hear. Ju. This was a precious thief, A subtle trick to keep my servants safe. 2. What ha you lost Sir? Ju. They ransack'd all before my face, and threatned To kill me if I cough'd, they have a chain, My rings, my box of casting gold, my purse too. They robb'd me miserably: but that which most grieves me, They took away some Writings; 'twas a rogue That knew me, and set on by the old Lady, I will indite her for't. 1. Shall we pursue 'em? Ju. Run, run, cursed raskals, I am out of my wits, let not a creature in, No not with necessaries. 2. We shall be starv'd. Ju. I'll buy my meat at window as they pass by; I [wonot] trust my Scrivenor, he has books too; And bread I'll ha flung up; I charge ye all Burn all the books i'th' house. 1. Your little Prayer Book? Ju. I'll never pray agen, I'll have my doors Made up, nothing but walls, and thick ones too; No sound shall tempt me agen, remember I Have forswore books. 2. If you should be call'd to take your oath? Ju. I will forswear all oaths, rather than see A thing but in the likeness of a book: And I were condemn'd, I'll rather chuse to hang, Than read agen; come in, and search all places, They may be about the house, were the doors lock'd? 1. But the keys in 'em, and if they be gone, They could not want wit to lock us in, Sir. Ju. Never was a man so miserably undone, I would lose a limb, to see their rogueships totter. [Exeunt.

La. Thy brothers daughter, saist, and born in Wales? Nur. I have long time desired to see her, and I hope Your Ladyship will not be offended. La. No, no. Nur. I should be happy, if she might be serviceable To you Madam. La. Beshrew me, but at first, she took me much, Is she not like Maria? setting aside Her language very like her, and I love her The better for't, I prethee call her hither, She speaks feat English. Nur. Why Guennith, Guennith, du hummah Guennith. She is course Madam, after her countrey guise, And were she in fine cloths— La. I'll have her handsome:

What part of Wales were you born in? Ma. In Abehundis Mada[ms]. Nur. She speaks that name in Welsh, which we call Brecknock. La. What can you do?

La. A pretty innocence, I do like her infinitely, Nurse, And if I live—

Ser. Here is Mr. Hartlove, Madam, come to see you. La. Alas poor Gentleman, prethee admit him.

Ha. Madam, I am come to take my last leave. La. How Sir? Ha. Of all my home affections, and my friends, For the interest you had once in Maria, I would acquaint you when I leave the kingdom. La. Would there were any thing in my poor power That might divert your Will, and make you happy, I am sure I have wrong'd her too, but let your pardon Assure me you are charitable; she's dead Which makes us both sad: What do you look on? [1.] The likest face—

Ha. Be not offended maid. La. How the wench blushes, she represents Marias loss to him.

Ha. Where had you this face? Ma. Her faces be our none, I warrant her. Ha. I wonot hurt you, all the lineaments That built Maria up; all those springing beauties Dwell on this thing, change but her tongue I know her: Let me see your hand.

Ha. Trust me, the self-same white, And softness, prethee speak our English Dialect.

Ha. By the love, That everlasting love I bear Maria—

La. How prettily this anger shews. 1. She gabbles innocently. Ha. Madam farewel, and all good fortune dwell we'e, With me my own affections; farewel Maid, Fair gentle maid. 2. She sighs. Ma. Du cat a whee. Ha. I cannot goe, there's somewhat calls me back. Ma. Poor Frank, How gladly would I entertain thy love, And meet thy worthy flame, but shame forbids me:

The tears of true affection, woe is me, Oh cursed love that glories in maids miseries, And true mens broken hearts. La. Alas I pity him, the wench is rude, and knows you not, forgive her.

Ha. How hard she holds me! Just as Maria did, weeps the same drops, Now as I have a living soul, her si[gh] too; What shall I think, is not your name Maria, If it be not, delude me with so much charity To say it is.

Ha. Good Madam, think not ill I am thus saucy. La. Oh no Sir, be you not angry with the wench. Ha. I am most pleas'd. 1. Lets interrupt him, he'll be mad outright else. 2. Observe a little more. Ha. Would I could in your language beg a kiss.

Ha. Let me suffer death, If in my apprehension two twinn'd cherries Be more a kinn, than her lips to Maria's: And if this harsh illusion would but leave her, She were the same, good Madam, shall I have Your consent now? La. To what? Ha. To give this Virgin to me. La. She's not mine, this is her kinswoman, And has more power to dispose; alas, I pity him. Pray gentlem[e]n prevail with him to goe; More that I wish his comfort than his absence. Ha. You have been always kind to me, will you Deny me your fair Cosin? Nu. 'Twere fit you first obtain'd her own consent. Ha. [He] is no friend that wishes my departure, I doe not trouble you. 1. 'Tis not Maria. Ha. Her shadow is enough, I'll dwell with that, Pursue your own ways, shall we live together?

Ha. All I am worth, And all my hopes this strange voice would forsake her, For then she shud be—prethee stay a little, Hark in thine ear, dissemble not, but tell me, And save my life; I know you are Maria: Speak but as I doe, ten words to confirm me; You have an English soul, do not disguise it From me with these strange accents—She pinch'd hard Again, and sigh'd. La. What ails the Wench? [Exit. Nur. Why, Guenith. Ha. She's gone too. 2. Come leave this dream. Ha. A dream? I think so; But 'twas a pleasing one, now I'll obey, And forget all these wonders, lead the way. [Exeunt.

Wild. HOnest Toby? To. Sweet Mr. Wildbrain,—I am glad I ha met w'ye. Wild. Why, did my Aunt send for me? Tob. Your Aunt's a mortal, and thinks not on you For ought I can perceive. Wild. Is my cosin alive agen? Tob. Neither, and yet we do not hear That she's buried. Wild. What should make thee glad then? Tob. What should make me glad? have I not cause, To see your Princely body well, and walk thus, Look blithe and bonny, and your Wardrobe whole still? Wild. The case is clear, and I ha found a Mine, A perfect Indie, since my Aunt cashier'd me; What think'st of this? Tob. Oh delicate bells. Wild. Thou puttest me in mind, We are to ring anon, I mean[t] to send for thee; Meet me at the old Parish Church. Tob. Say no more. Wild. When thy Lady is a bed, we ha conspir'd A midnight peal for joy. Tob. If I fail, hang me i' th' bell-ropes. Wild. And how? and how does my Aunt? Tob. She's up to th' ears in Law; I do so whirl her to the Counsellors chambers, And back again, and bounce her for more money, And too again, I know not what they do with her; But she's the merriest thing among these Law-drivers; And in their studies half a day together; If they do get her with Magna Charta, she swears, By all the ability of her old body, She will so claw the Justice, she will sell The tiles of the house she vows, and Sack out o'th' Cellar, (That she worships to Idolatry) but she'll hang him. Wild. I would she could: but hark thee honest Toby. If a man have a Mistriss, may we not, Without my Aunt's leave, borrow now and then A Coach to tumble in, towards the Exchange, And so forth? Tob. A Mistriss? Wild. She may be thine when we are married. Tob. Command, I'll carry you both in pomp; And let my Lady go a foot a Law-catching, And exercise her corns: where is she Master John? Wild. 'Shat see her. Tob. Shall we ring for her? Wild. And drink her health? Tob. Drink stifly for five hours. Wild. We'll drink fifteen. Tob. To night? we will ha twenty Torches then, And through the streets drive on triumphantly; Triumphantly we'll drive, by my Lad[y]es door, As I am a Christian Coachman, I will rattle you And Urine in her porch, and she shall fear me: If you say more, I shall run mad outright, I will drink Sack, and surfeit instantly; I know not where I am now. [Exit.

Wi. Hold for thy buttons sake, the knave's transported. Lur. Jack Wildbrain? Wild. Honest Tom, how thrives the fellonious world with thee now? Lur. You look and talk as you were much exalted. Wild. Th'art i'th' right Tom. I'll tell thee first, I ha shook off my Aunt, and yet I live still, And drink, and sing; her house had like to ha spoil'd me; I keep no hours now; Nor need any false key To the old womans Cabinets, I ha money Upon my word, and pawn no oaths to th' Butler. No matrimonial protestations For Sack-possets to the Chambermaid, I praise my Fate, there be more ways to th' wood Tom. Lur. Prethee release my wonder. Wild. I'll increase it, wipe thine eyes, Here is a chain worth money, and some man had it, A foolis[h] Diamond, and other trifles— Lur. The very same, Oh Gipsey! Infidel! All that I sweat, and ventur'd my neck for, He has got already; who would trust a strumpet: Wild. This? This is nothing to what I possess At home. Lur. What home? Wild. A house that shall be nameless; The Mistriss of it mine too, such a piece For flesh and blood, added to that so loving— Lur. Is she married? Wild. I know not, nor I care not; But such a prize, so mounting, so delicious, Thou wilt run mad, I'll tell thee more hereafter. Lur. Nay, prethee a word more. Wild. I took no pains to find out all this Paradise, My destiny threw me upon't i'th dark, I found it Wanting a Lodging too. Lur. No old acquaintance? Wild. Never, never saw her; But these things happen not in every age: I cannot stay, if thou wilt meet anon At my own randevow, thou knowest the Tavern, We'll sup together, after that a company Of merry lads have made a match to ring. Lur. You keep your exercise, i'th' old Church? Wild. No other, There is no Musick to the Bells, we wo'd Have Bonfires if we durst, and thou wo'd come It shall cost thee nothing Tom, hang pilfering, And keep me company, in time I may Shew thee my wench too. Lur. I cannot promise; but you will be there? Wild. We'll toss the Bells, and make the Steeple Roar boy, but come to supper then. Lur. My hand, and expect me: Yes, I will come or send, and to some purpose; Art come boy?

Excellent, Knave, how didst thou purchase these? Boy. The staff I stole last night from a sleeping Constable; The rest I borrowed by my acquaintance with The Players boyes; you were best to lose no time, Sir. Lur. So, so, help boy, 'tis very well, do I not look Like one that breaks the Kings peace with authority? You know your charge, prepare things handsomely, My diligent boy, and leave me to my office. Boy. There wants nothing already; but I fly Sir. [Exit. Lur. Now Fortune prove no slut, and I'll adore thee. Within. Ser. Whose there? [Knocks. Lur. A friend wo'd speak with Master Justice. Ser. Who are you? Lur. I am the Constable. Ser. My Master is not at leasure to hear business. Lur. How? Not at leasure to do the King service; Take heed what you say, Sir; I know his worship, If he kn[e]w my business, would no excuse. Ser. You must go to another Justice, I'll assure My Master is not well in health. Lur. I know not, But if your worshipful be not at leasure To do himself a benefit, I am gone Sir, An infinite benefit, and the State shall thank him for't; Thank him, and think on him too; I am an Officer. And know my place, but I do love the Justice; I honor any authority above me: Beside, he is my neighbor, and I worship him. Ser. You have no Books, nor Ballads, Mr Constable, About you? Lur. What should I doe with Books? does it become A man of my place to understand such matters? Pray call your Master, if he please to follow me, I shall discover to him such a plot, Shall get him everlasting fame, I'll be hang'd for't, And he be not knighted instantly, and for reward Have some of the malefactors Lands, I'll bring him too; But I cannot d[all]y time. [Within. Ju. Who's that? Ser. A Constable Sir, would speak about some business, He says will bring you Fame, and mighty profit. Lur. Please your worship come down, I'll make you happy; The notabl'st piece of villany I have in hand Sir, And you shall find it out; I ha made choice To bring your worship to the first knowledge, and Thank me, as you find the good on't afterwards. Ju. What is it? Treason? Lur. 'Tis little better, I can tell you I have lodg'd A crew of the most rank and desperate villains: They talk of robberies and waies they did 'em; And how they left men bound i[n] their studies. Ju. With Books and Ballads? Lur. That Sir, that, and murders, And thousand knaveries more, they're very rich Sir, In Money, Jewels, Chains, and a hundred more Devices. Ju. Happy, happy Constable, I meet ye At the back door, get ready knaves. Lur. Not a man I beseech you, I have privately appointed strength about me, They cannot start, your men would breed suspition; All my desire is, you would come alone; That you might have the hope of the enterprise, That you might hear 'em first, and then proceed, Sir. Ju. I come, I come. Lur. 'Tis very well. [Exit. Ju. Keep all my doors fast, 'tis something late. Lur. So, so, and please your worship I[le] direct you.

Boy. My Master staies, I doubt his lime-twigs catch not, If they doe, all's provided; but I all This while forget my own state, fair Maria Is certainly alive, I met her in Another habit, with her Nurse, 'twas she: There is some trick in't, but when this is over, I'll find it out, this project for the Usurer May have good effect; however, 'twill be sport To mortifie him a little;

He's come without him: Have you fail'd, Sir? Lur. Prosper'd? my little Ingineer; away, He is i'th' next room, be not you seen, sirrah. [Exit. Boy. The pitfall's ready, never Justice Was catcht in such a nooze: e'er he get out, He shall run through a scouring purgatory, Shall purge him to the quick, 'tis night already. [Exit.

Lur. Come softly, yet Sir, softly, are you not weary? Ju. Th'ast brought me into a melancholy place, I see no creature. Lur. This is, Sir, their Den Where they suppose themselves secure, I am faint, With making haste; but I must be thus troubled, And therefore never go without a Cordial; [Seems to drink. Without this I should dye; How it refreshes me Already! will't please your worship? I might have had The manners to ha' let you drink before me; Now am I lusty. Ju. 'T[h]as a good taste. Lur. Taste? how d'ye find the virtue, nay Sir, spare it not: My wife has the Receipt, does it not stir Your Worships body? when you come to examine, 'Twill make you speak like thunder. Ju. Hoy he. Lur. It works already. Ju. Is there never a chair, I was wearier than I thought, But who shall we have to take 'em. Mr. Constable? Lur. Let me alone, when I but give the watch-word We will have men enough to surprize an Army. Ju. I begin to be sleepy; what, hast a chair?

Lur. They do not dream of us, 'tis early rising; Care, care, and early rising, Common-wealths men Are ever subject to the nods; sit down, Sir, A short nap is not much amiss; so, so, he's fast; Fast as a fish i'th' net, he has winking powder Shall work upon him to our wish, remove him, Nay, we may cut him into collops now And he ne'r feel; have you prepar'd the vault, sirrah? Boy. Yes, yes, Sir, every thing in's place. Lur. When [we] have plac'd him, you and I boy Must about another project hard by, his potion Will bind him sure enough till we return, This villany weighs mainly, But we'll purge ye. [Exit.

Sex. Now for mine ears, mine ears be constant to me; They ring a wager, and I must deal justly, ha boys.

Lur. Dost hear 'em, hark, these be the Ringers? Boy. Are you sure the same? Lur. Or my directions fail; The coast is clear: How the bells go! how daintily they tumble! And methinks they seem to say; Fine fools I'll fit you. Sex. Excellent agen, good boys—oh that was nought. Lur. Who's that? Boy. Be you conceal'd by any means yet, hark, They stop, I hope they'll to't agen, close Sir.

Wild. A palpable knock. Ring. 'Twas none. To. Be judg'd by the Sexton then, If I have ears. Sex. A knock, a knock, a gross one. To. Carman, your gallon of wine, you ring most impiously, Art thou o'th' worshipful company of the Knights o'th West, And handle a bell with no more dexterity? You think you are in Thames-street Justling the Carts: oh a clean hand's a Jewel. Boy. Good speed to your good exercise. To. Y' are welcome. Boy. I come, Sir, from a Gentleman, and neighbor hard by, One that loves your Musick well. To. He may have more on't, Handle a bell, as you were haling timber; Gross, gross, and base, absurd. Ring. I'll mend it next peal. Boy. To intreat a knowledge of you, whether it be By the Ear you ring thus cunningly, or by the Eye; For to be plain, he has laid ten pounds upon't. Wild. But which way has he laid? Boy. That your Ear guides you, And not your Eye. To. Has won, has won, the Ear's our only instrument: Boy. But how shall we be sure on't. To. Put all the lights out, to what end serve our eyes then? Wild. A plain Case. Boy. You say true, 'tis a fine cunning thing to ring by th' Ear sure: And can you ring i' th' dark so? Wild. All night long, boy. Boy. 'Tis wonderful, let this be certain Gentlemen, And half his wager he allows among ye; Is't possible you should ring so? To. Possible, thou art a child, I'll ring when I am dead drunk Out with the lights, no twinkling of a candle, I know my rope too, as I know my nose, And can bang it soundly i'th' dark, I warrant you. Wi. Come, let's confirm him straight, and win the wager. [Ex. Boy. Let me hear to strengthen me; And when y'ave rung, I'll bring the money to you. Lur. So, so, follow 'em; They shall have a cool reward, one hath gold of mine, Good store in's pocket, [Ring. But this will be reveng'd in a short warning. They are at it lustily; hey, how wantonly They ring away their cloaths, how it delights me. Boy. Here, here, Sir.

Lur. Hast Wildbrain's? Boy. His whole case, Sir; I felt it out, and by the guards This should be the Coachmans, another suit too. Lur. Away boy, quickly now to the Usurer, His hour to wake approaches. Boy. That once finished, You'll give me leave to play, Sir: here they come. [Ex.

Wild. I am monstrous weary. To. Fie, how I sweat! Reach me my cloak to cover me, I run to oyl like a Porpise; 'twas a brave peal. Sex. Let me light [my] candle first, then I'll wait on you. Wild. A very brave peal. To. Carman, you came in close now. Wild. Sure 'tis past midnight. Ring. No stirring in the streets I hear. To. Walk further, was that a pillar? 'tis harder than my nose, Where's the boy promis'd us five pounds? Wild. Room, I sweat still; come, come, my cloak, I shall take cold.

Sex. Where lies it? Wild. Here, here, and all our cloaths. Sex. Where, where? Ring. I'th' corner. To. Is thy candle blind too, give me the bottle, I can drink like a Fish now, like an Elephant. Sex. Here are the corners, but here are no cloaths; Yes, here is a cuff. Wild. A cuff? give me the candle, Cuffes wonot cover me—I smell the knavery. Tob. Is't come to a cuff? my whole suit turned to a button? Wild. Now am I as cold again as though 'twere Christmas; Cold with my fear, I'll never ring by the ear more. To. My new cloaths vanish'd? Wild. All my cloaths Toby. Ring. Here's none. Tob. Not one of my dragons wings left to adorn me, Have I muted all my feathers? Wild. Cheated by the ear; a plot to put out the candle; I could be mad; my chain, my rings, the gold, the gold. Tob. The cold, the cold I cry, and I cry truly, Not one sleeve, nor a cape of a cloak to warm me. Wild. What miserable fools were we! Tob. We had e'en best, gentlemen, Every man chuse his rope again, and fasten it, And take a short turn to a better fortune, To be bawds to our miseries, and put our own lights out! Wild. Prethee Sexton lets have a fire at thy house. A good fire, we'll pay thee some way for't, I am stone cold. Sex. Alas I pity you, come quickly Gentlemen. Wild. Sure I ha been in a dream, I had no Mistriss, Nor gold, nor cloaths, but am a ringing rascal. Tob. Fellows in affliction, let's take hands all, Now are we fit for tumblers.

Lur. So, so, presently his sleep will leave him. And wonder seize upon him, Bid 'em within be ready. Ju. What sound's this? What horrid dinne? what dismal place is this? I never saw before, and now behold it; But by the half light of a Lamp, that burns here: My spirits shake, tremble through my body; Help, help,

Mercy protect me, my soul quakes, What dreadful apparitions! how I shudder! 1. 2. Fu. Algripe. Ju. What are you? 1. We are hellhounds, hellhounds, that have commission From the Prince of darkness, To fetch thy black soul to him. Ju. Am I not alive still? 1. Thou art, but we have brought thee instruments Will quickly rid thy miserable life, Stabb. 2. Poyson. 1. Hang thy self, this choice is offer'd. 2. Thou canst not hope for heaven; thy base soul is Lost to all hope of mercy. [1.] Quickly, quickly, The torments cool. [2.] And all [the Fiends] expect thee. Come with us to that pit of endless horror, Or we will force thee. Ju. Oh, oh, oh. 1. Groans are too late, sooner the ravisher, Whose soul is hurl'd into eternal frost, Stung with the force of twenty thousand winters, To punish the distempers of his blood, Shall hope to get from thence, than thou avoid The certainty of meeting hell where he is. Shall murderers be there for ever dying, Their souls shot through with Adders, torn on Engines, Dying as many deaths for killing one, Could any imagination number them, As there be moments in eternity: And shall that Justice spare thee, that hast slain, Murdered by thy extortion so many? Ju. Oh, oh. 2. Do execution quickly, or we'll carry thee alive to hell. Ju. Gently, gentle devils, do not force me To kill my self, nor do not you do't for me; Oh let me live, I'll make amends for all. 1. Tell us of thy repentance? perjur'd villain, Pinch off his flesh, he must be whipt, salted and whipt. Ju. Oh misery of miseries! Recorders 1. 2. Tear his accursed limbs, to hell with him, ha! A mischief on that innocent face, away. [Creeps in.

Boy. Malicious furies hence, choak not the seeds Of holy penitence. Ju. This must be an Angel, How at his presence the fiends crawl away! Here is some light of mercy. Boy. Be thou wise, And entertain it, wretched, wretched man; What poor defence hath all thy wealth been to thee? What says thy conscience now? Ju. Be my good Angel, here I promise thee, To become honest, and renounce all villany; Enjoyn me any pennance, I'll build Churches; A whole City of Hospitals. Boy. Take heed, There is no dallying, nor are these impos'd. Ju. Name any thing within my power, sweet Angel; And if I do not faithfully perform it, Then whip me every day, burn me each minute, Whole years together let me freeze to Isicles. Boy. I'th' number of thy foul oppressions; Thou hast undone a faithful Gentleman, By taking forfeit of his Land. Ju. Young Lurcher, I do confess. Boy. He lives most miserable, And in despair may hang or drown himself; Prevent his ruine, or his blood will be More sin in thy account: hast thou forgotten He had a sister? Ju. I do well remember it. Boy. Couldst thou for Mammon break thy solemn vow, Made once to that unhappy maid, that weeps A thousand tears a day for thy unkindness, Was not thy faith contracted, and thy heart? And couldst thou marry another? Ju. But she is dead, And I will make true satisfaction. Boy. What do I instance these that hast been false To all the world. Ju. I know it, and will henceforth Practice repentance, do not frown sweet Angel; I will restore all Mortgages, forswear Abominable Usury, live chaste; For I have been wanton in my shroud, my age; And if that poor innocent maid, I so abus'd, Be living, I will marry her, and spend My days to come religiously. Boy. I was commanded but a Messenger To tell thee this, and rescue thee from those, Whose malice would have dragg'd thee quick to hell, If thou abuse this mercy and repent not, Double damnation will expect thee for it; But if thy life be virtuous hereafter, A blessedness shall reward thy good example, Thy fright hath much distracted thy weak sences, Drink of this viol, and renew thy spirits I ha done my office, think on't and be happy. Lur. So, so, he gapes already, now he's fast; Thou hast acted rarely, but this is not all; First, help to convey him out o' th' vault. Boy. You will dispense with me now, as you promis'd, Sir. Lur. We will make shift without thee, th'ast done well, By our device this bondage may scape hell. [Exit.