TEXT (continued 2)

All this is to make you a Gentleman: I’ll haue you learne, Sonne. Wherefore haue I plac’d you With S^r. Poul Either-ſide, but to haue ſo much Law To keepe your owne? Beſides, he is a Iuſtice, Here i’ the Towne; and dwelling, Sonne, with him, 5 You ſhal learne that in a yeere, ſhall be worth twenty Of hauing ſtay’d you at Oxford, or at Cambridge, Or ſending you to the Innes of Court, or France. I am call’d for now in haſte, by Maſter Meere-craft To truſt Maſter Fitz-dottrel, a good man: 10 I’haue inquir’d him, eighteene hundred a yeere, (His name is currant) for a diamant ring Of forty, ſhall not be worth thirty (thats gain’d) And this is to make you a Gentleman! Plv. O, but good father, you truſt too much! Gvi. Boy, boy, 15 We liue, by finding fooles out, to be truſted. Our ſhop-bookes are our paſtures, our corn-grounds, We lay ’hem op’n for them to come into: And when wee haue ’hem there, wee driue ’hem vp In t’one of our two Pounds, the Compters, ſtreight, 20 And this is to make you a Gentleman! Wee Citizens neuer truſt, but wee doe coozen: For, if our debtors pay, wee coozen them; And if they doe not, then we coozen our ſelues. But that’s a hazard euery one muſt runne, 25 That hopes to make his Sonne a Gentleman! Plv. I doe not wiſh to be one, truely, Father. In a deſcent, or two, wee come to be Iuſt ’itheir ſtate, fit to be coozend, like ’hem. And I had rather ha’ tarryed i’ your trade: 30 For, ſince the Gentry ſcorne the Citty ſo much, [130] Me thinkes we ſhould in time, holding together, And matching in our owne tribes, as they ſay, Haue got an Act of Common Councell, for it, That we might coozen them out of rerum natura. 35 Gvi. I, if we had an Act firſt to forbid The marrying of our wealthy heyres vnto ’hem: And daughters, with ſuch lauiſh portions. That confounds all. Plv. And makes a Mungril breed, Father. And when they haue your money, then they laugh at you: 40 Or kick you downe the ſtayres. I cannot abide ’hem. I would faine haue ’hem coozen’d, but not truſted.

O, is he come! I knew he would not faile me. Welcome, good Guilt-head, I muſt ha’ you doe A noble Gentleman, a courteſie, here: In a mere toy (ſome pretty Ring, or Iewell) Of fifty, or threeſcore pound (Make it a hundred, 5 And hedge in the laſt forty, that I owe you, And your owne price for the Ring) He’s a good man, S^r, And you may hap’ ſee him a great one! Hee, Is likely to beſtow hundreds, and thouſands, Wi’ you; if you can humour him. A great prince 10 He will be ſhortly. What doe you ſay? Gvi. In truth, Sir I cannot. ’T has beene a long vacation with vs? Fit. Of what, I pray thee? of wit? or honesty? Thoſe are your Citizens long vacations. Plv. Good Father do not truſt ’hem. Mer. Nay, Thom. Guilt-head. 15 Hee will not buy a courteſie and begge it: Hee’ll rather pay, then pray. If you doe for him, You muſt doe cheerefully. His credit, Sir, Is not yet proſtitute! Who’s this? thy ſonne? A pretty youth, what’s his name? Plv. Plutarchus, Sir, 20 Mer. Plutarchus! How came that about? Gvi. That yeere S^r, That I begot him, I bought Plutarch’s liues, And fell ſ’ in loue with the booke, as I call’d my ſonne By’his name; In hope he ſhould be like him: And write the liues of our great men! Mer. I’ the City? [131] 25 And you do breed him, there? Gvi. His minde, Sir, lies Much to that way. Mer. Why, then, he is i’ the right way. Gvi. But, now, I had rather get him a good wife, And plant him i’ the countrey; there to vſe The bleſſing I ſhall leaue him: Mer. Out vpon’t! 30 And loſe the laudable meanes, thou haſt at home, heere, T’aduance, and make him a young Alderman? Buy him a Captaines place, for ſhame; and let him Into the world, early, and with his plume, And Scarfes, march through Cheapſide, or along Cornehill, And by the vertue’of thoſe, draw downe a wife 36 There from a windo’, worth ten thouſand pound! Get him the poſture booke, and’s leaden men, To ſet vpon a table, ’gainst his Miſtreſſe Chance to come by, that hee may draw her in, 40 And ſhew her Finsbury battells. Gvi. I haue plac’d him With Iustice Eytherſide, to get so much law— Mer. As thou haſt conſcience. Come, come, thou doſt wrong Pretty Plutarchus, who had not his name, For nothing: but was borne to traine the youth 45 Of London, in the military truth— That way his Genius lies. My Couſin Euerill!

O, are you heere, Sir? ’pray you let vs whiſper. Plv. Father, deare Father, truſt him if you loue mee. Gvi. Why, I doe meane it, boy; but, what I doe, Muſt not come eaſily from mee: Wee muſt deale With Courtiers, boy, as Courtiers deale with vs. 5 If I haue a Buſineſſe there, with any of them, Why, I muſt wait, I’am ſure on’t, Son: and though My Lord diſpatch me, yet his worſhipfull man— Will keepe me for his ſport, a moneth, or two, To ſhew mee with my fellow Cittizens. 10 I muſt make his traine long, and full, one quarter; And helpe the ſpectacle of his greatneſſe. There, Nothing is done at once, but iniuries, boy: And they come head-long! an their good turnes moue not, [124] Or very ſlowly. Plv. Yet ſweet father, truſt him. 15 Gvi. VVell, I will thinke. Ev. Come, you muſt do’t, Sir. I am vndone elſe, and your Lady Tayle-buſh Has ſent for mee to dinner, and my cloaths Are all at pawne. I had ſent out this morning, Before I heard you were come to towne, ſome twenty 20 Of my epiſtles, and no one returne— Mere-craft tells him of his faults. Mer. VVhy, I ha’ told you o’ this. This comes of wearing Scarlet, gold lace, and cut-works! your fine gartring! VVith your blowne roſes, Couſin! and your eating Pheſant, and Godwit, here in London! haunting 25 The Globes, and Mermaides! wedging in with Lords, Still at the table! and affecting lechery, In veluet! where could you ha’ contented your ſelfe With cheeſe, ſalt-butter, and a pickled hering, I’ the Low-countries; there worne cloth, and fuſtian! 30 Beene ſatisfied with a leape o’ your Hoſt’s daughter, In garriſon, a wench of a ſtoter! or, Your Sutlers wife, i’ the leaguer, of two blanks! You neuer, then, had runne vpon this flat, To write your letters miſſiue, and ſend out 35 Your priuy ſeales, that thus haue frighted off All your acquaintance; that they ſhun you at diſtance, VVorse, then you do the Bailies! Ev. Pox vpon you. I come not to you for counſell, I lacke money. Hee repines. Mer. You doe not thinke, what you owe me already? Ev. I? 40 They owe you, that meane to pay you. I’ll beſworne, I neuer meant it. Come, you will proiect, I ſhall vndoe your practice, for this moneth elſe: You know mee. and threatens him. Mer. I, yo’ are a right ſweet nature! Ev. Well, that’s all one! Mer. You’ll leaue this Empire, one day? 45 You will not euer haue this tribute payd, Your ſcepter o’ the ſword? Ev. Tye vp your wit, Doe, and prouoke me not— Mer. Will you, Sir, helpe, To what I ſhall prouoke another for you? Ev. I cannot tell; try me: I thinke I am not 50 So vtterly, of an ore vn-to-be-melted, But I can doe my ſelfe good, on occaſions. They ioyne. Mer. Strike in then, for your part. M^r. Fitz-dottrel If I tranſgreſſe in point of manners, afford mee Your beſt conſtruction; I muſt beg my freedome 55 From your affayres, this day. Fit. How, S^r. Mer. It is In ſuccour of this Gentlemans occaſions, My kinſ-man— Mere-craft pretends buſineſſe. Fit. You’ll not do me that affront, S^r. Mer. I am ſory you ſhould ſo interpret it, But, Sir, it ſtands vpon his being inueſted 60 In a new office, hee has ſtood for, long: [133] Mere-craft describes the office of Dependancy. Maſter of the Dependances! A place Of my proiection too, Sir, and hath met Much oppoſition; but the State, now, ſee’s That great neceſſity of it, as after all 65 Their writing, and their ſpeaking, againſt Duells, They haue erected it. His booke is drawne— For, ſince, there will be differences, daily, ’Twixt Gentlemen; and that the roaring manner Is growne offenſiue; that thoſe few, we call 70 The ciuill men o’ the ſword, abhorre the vapours; They ſhall refer now, hither, for their proceſſe; And ſuch as treſſpaſe ’gainſt the rule of Court, Are to be fin’d— Fit. In troth, a pretty place! Mer. A kinde of arbitrary Court ’twill be, Sir. 75 Fit. I ſhall haue matter for it, I beleeue, Ere it be long: I had a diſtaſt. Mer. But now, Sir, My learned councell, they muſt haue a feeling, They’ll part, Sir, with no bookes, without the hand-gout Be oyld, and I muſt furniſh. If’t be money, 80 To me ſtreight. I am Mine, Mint and Exchequer. To ſupply all. What is’t? a hundred pound? Eve. No, th’ Harpey, now, ſtands on a hundred pieces. Mer. Why, he muſt haue ’hem, if he will. To morrow, Sir, Will equally ſerue your occaſion’s,—— 85 And therefore, let me obtaine, that you will yeeld To timing a poore Gentlemans diſtreſſes, In termes of hazard.— Fit. By no meanes! Mer. I muſt Get him this money, and will.— Fit. Sir, I proteſt, I’d rather ſtand engag’d for it my ſelfe: 90 Then you ſhould leaue mee. Mer. O good S^r. do you thinke So courſely of our manners, that we would, For any need of ours, be preſt to take it: Though you be pleas’d to offer it. Fit. Why, by heauen, I meane it! Mer. I can neuer beleeue leſſe. 95 But wee, Sir, muſt preſerue our dignity, As you doe publiſh yours. By your faire leaue, Sir. Hee offers to be gone. Fit. As I am a Gentleman, if you doe offer To leaue mee now, or if you doe refuſe mee, 99 I will not thinke you loue mee. Mer. Sir, I honour you. And with iuſt reaſon, for theſe noble notes, Of the nobility, you pretend too! But, Sir— I would know, why? a motiue (he a ſtranger) You ſhould doe this? (Eve. You’ll mar all with your fineneſſe) Fit. Why, that’s all one, if ’twere, Sir, but my fancy. 105 But I haue a Buſineſſe, that perhaps I’d haue Brought to his office. Mer. O, Sir! I haue done, then; If hee can be made profitable, to you. [134] Fit. Yes, and it ſhall be one of my ambitions To haue it the firſt Buſineſſe? May I not? 110 Eve. So you doe meane to make’t, a perfect Buſineſſe. Fit. Nay, I’ll doe that, aſſure you: ſhew me once. Mer. S^r, it concernes, the firſt be a perfect Buſineſſe, For his owne honour! Eve. I, and th’ reputation Too, of my place. Fit. Why, why doe I take this courſe, elſe? 115 I am not altogether, an Aſſe, good Gentlemen, Wherefore ſhould I conſult you? doe you thinke? To make a ſong on’t? How’s your manner? tell vs. Mer. Doe, ſatisfie him: giue him the whole courſe. Eve. Firſt, by requeſt, or otherwiſe, you offer 120 Your Buſineſſe to the Court: wherein you craue: The iudgement of the Maſter and the Aſsiſtants. Fit. Well, that’s done, now, what doe you vpon it? Eve. We ſtreight S^r, haue recourſe to the ſpring-head; Viſit the ground; and, ſo diſcloſe the nature: 125 If it will carry, or no. If wee doe finde, By our proportions it is like to proue A ſullen, and blacke Bus’neſſe That it be Incorrigible; and out of, treaty; then. We file it, a Dependance! Fit. So ’tis fil’d. 130 What followes? I doe loue the order of theſe things. Eve. We then aduiſe the party, if he be A man of meanes, and hauings, that forth-with, He ſettle his eſtate: if not, at leaſt That he pretend it. For, by that, the world 135 Takes notice, that it now is a Dependance. And this we call, Sir, Publication. Fit. Very ſufficient! After Publication, now? Eve. Then we grant out our Proceſſe, which is diuers; Eyther by Chartell, Sir, or ore-tenus, 140 Wherein the Challenger, and Challengee Or (with your Spaniard) your Prouocador, And Prouocado, haue their ſeuerall courſes— Fit. I haue enough on’t! for an hundred pieces? Yes, for two hundred, vnder-write me, doe. 145 Your man will take my bond? Mer. That he will, ſure. But, theſe ſame Citizens, they are ſuch ſharks! There’s an old debt of forty, I ga’ my word For one is runne away, to the Bermudas, And he will hooke in that, or he wi’ not doe. 150 He whiſpers Fitz-dottrell aſide. Fit. Why, let him. That and the ring, and a hundred pieces, Will all but make two hundred? Mer. No, no more, Sir. What ready Arithmetique you haue? doe you heare? And then Guilt-head. A pretty mornings worke for you, this? Do it, You ſhall ha’ twenty pound on’t. Gvi. Twenty pieces? [135] 155 (Plv. Good Father, do’t) Mer. You will hooke ſtill? well, Shew vs your ring. You could not ha’ done this, now With gentleneſſe, at firſt, wee might ha’ thank’d you? But groane, and ha’ your courteſies come from you Like a hard ſtoole, and ſtinke? A man may draw 160 Your teeth out eaſier, then your money? Come, Were little Guilt-head heere, no better a nature, I ſhould ne’r loue him, that could pull his lips off, now! He pulls Plutarchus by the lips. Was not thy mother a Gentlewoman? Plv. Yes, Sir. Mer. And went to the Court at Chriſtmas, and S^t. Georges-tide? 165 And lent the Lords-men, chaines? Plv. Of gold, and pearle, S^r. Mer. I knew, thou muſt take, after ſome body! Thou could’ſt not be elſe. This was no ſhop-looke! I’ll ha’ thee Captaine Guilt-head, and march vp, And take in Pimlico, and kill the buſh, 170 At euery tauerne! Thou shalt haue a wife, If ſmocks will mount, boy. How now? you ha’ there now Some Briſto-ſtone, or Corniſh counterfeit You’ld put vpon vs. He turns to old Guilt-head. Gvi. No, Sir I aſſure you: Looke on his luſter! hee will ſpeake himſelfe! 175 I’le gi’ you leaue to put him i’ the Mill, H’is no great, large ſtone, but a true Paragon, H’has all his corners, view him well. Mer. H’is yellow. Gvi. Vpo’ my faith, S^r, o’ the right black-water, And very deepe! H’is ſet without a foyle, too. 180 Here’s one o’ the yellow-water, I’ll ſell cheape. Mer. And what do you valew this, at? thirty pound? Gvi. No, Sir, he cost me forty, ere he was ſet. Mer. Turnings, you meane? I know your Equinocks: You’are growne the better Fathers of ’hem o’ late. 185 Well, where’t muſt goe, ’twill be iudg’d, and, therefore, Looke you’t be right. You ſhall haue fifty pound for’t. Now to Fitz-dottrel. Not a deneer more! And, becauſe you would Haue things diſpatch’d, Sir, I’ll goe preſently, Inquire out this Lady. If you thinke good, Sir. 190 Hauing an hundred pieces ready, you may Part with thoſe, now, to ſerue my kinſmans turnes, That he may wait vpon you, anon, the freer; And take ’hem when you ha’ ſeal’d, a game, of Guilt-head. Fit. I care not if I do! Mer. And diſpatch all, 195 Together. Fit. There, th’are iuſt: a hundred pieces! I’ ha’ told ’hem ouer, twice a day, theſe two moneths. Hee turnes ’hem out together. And Euerill and hee fall to ſhare. Mer. Well, go, and ſeale, then, S^r, make your returne As ſpeedy as you can. Eve. Come gi’ mee. Mer. Soft, Sir. Eve. Mary, and faire too, then. I’ll no delaying, Sir. 200 Mer. But, you will heare? Eve. Yes, when I haue my diuident. Mer. Theres forty pieces for you. Eve. What is this for? [136] Mer. Your halfe. You know, that Guilt-head muſt ha’ twenty. Eve. And what’s your ring there? ſhall I ha’ none o’ that? Mer. O, thats to be giuen to a Lady! 205 Eve. Is’t ſo? Mer. By that good light, it is. Ev. Come, gi’ me Ten pieces more, then. Mer. Why? Ev. For Guilt-head? Sir, Do’you thinke, I’ll ’low him any ſuch ſhare: Mer. You muſt. Eve. Muſt I? Doe you your muſts, Sir, I’ll doe mine, You wi’ not part with the whole, Sir? Will you? Goe too. 210 Gi’ me ten pieces! Mer. By what law, doe you this? Eve. E’n Lyon-law, Sir, I muſt roare elſe. Mer. Good! Eve. Yo’ haue heard, how th’ Aſſe made his diuiſions, wiſely? Mer. And, I am he: I thanke you. Ev. Much good do you, S^r. Mer. I ſhall be rid o’ this tyranny, one day? Eve. Not, While you doe eate; and lie, about the towne, here; 216 And coozen i’ your bullions; and I ſtand Your name of credit, and compound your buſineſſe; Adiourne your beatings euery terme; and make New parties for your proiects. I haue, now, 220 A pretty taſque, of it, to hold you in Wi’ your Lady Tayle-buſh: but the toy will be, How we ſhall both come off? Mer. Leaue you your doubting. And doe your portion, what’s aſſign’d you: I Neuer fail’d yet. Eve. With reference to your aydes? 225 You’ll ſtill be vnthankfull. Where ſhall I meete you, anon? You ha’ ſome feate to doe alone, now, I ſee; You wiſh me gone, well, I will finde you out, And bring you after to the audit. Mer. S’light! There’s Ingines ſhare too, I had forgot! This raigne 230 Is too-too-vnſuportable! I muſt Quit my ſelfe of this vaſſalage! Ingine! welcome.

How goes the cry? Ing. Excellent well! Mer. Wil’t do? VVhere’s Robinſon? Ing. Here is the Gentleman, Sir. VVill vndertake t’himſelfe. I haue acquainted him. Mer. VVhy did you ſo? Ing. VVhy, Robinſon would ha’ told him, You know. And hee’s a pleaſant wit! will hurt 5 Nothing you purpoſe. Then, he’is of opinion, That Robinſon might want audacity, [129] She being ſuch a gallant. Now, hee has beene, In Spaine, and knowes the faſhions there; and can Diſcourſe; and being but mirth (hee ſaies) leaue much, 10 To his care: Mer. But he is too tall! He excepts at his ſtature. Ing. For that, He has the braueſt deuice! (you’ll loue him for’t) To ſay, he weares Cioppinos: and they doe ſo In Spaine. And Robinſon’s as tall, as hee. Mer. Is he ſo? Ing. Euery iot. Mer. Nay, I had rather 15 To truſt a Gentleman with it, o’ the two. Ing. Pray you goe to him, then, Sir, and ſalute him. Mer. Sir, my friend Ingine has acquainted you With a ſtrange buſineſſe, here. Wit. A merry one, Sir. The Duke of Drown’d-land, and his Dutcheſſe? Mer. Yes, Sir. 20 Now, that the Coniurers ha’ laid him by, I ha’ made bold, to borrow him a while; Wit. With purpoſe, yet, to put him out I hope To his beſt vſe? Mer. Yes, Sir. Wit. For that ſmall part, That I am truſted with, put off your care: 25 I would not loſe to doe it, for the mirth, Will follow of it; and well, I haue a fancy. Mer. Sir, that will make it well. Wit. You will report it ſo. Where muſt I haue my dreſſing? Ing. At my houſe, Sir. Mer. You ſhall haue caution, Sir, for what he yeelds, 30 To ſix pence. Wit. You ſhall pardon me. I will ſhare, Sir, I’ your ſports, onely: nothing i’ your purchaſe. But you muſt furniſh mee with complements, To th’ manner of Spaine; my coach, my guarda duenn’as; Mer. Ingine’s your Pro’uedor. But, Sir, I muſt 35 (Now I’haue entred truſt wi’ you, thus farre) Secure ſtill i’ your quality, acquaint you With ſomewhat, beyond this. The place, deſign’d To be the Scene, for this our mery matter, Becauſe it muſt haue countenance of women, 40 To draw diſcourse, and offer it, is here by, At the Lady Taile-buſhes. Wit. I know her, Sir. And her Gentleman huiſher. Mer. M^r Ambler? Wit. Yes, Sir. Mer. Sir, It ſhall be no ſhame to mee, to confeſſe To you, that wee poore Gentlemen, that want acres, 45 Muſt for our needs, turne fooles vp, and plough Ladies Sometimes, to try what glebe they are: and this Is no vnfruitefull piece. She, and I now, Are on a proiect, for the fact, and venting Of a new kinde of fucus (paint, for Ladies) 50 To ſerue the kingdome: wherein ſhee her ſelfe Hath trauell’d, ſpecially, by way of ſeruice Vnto her ſexe, and hopes to get the Monopoly, As the reward of her inuention. [138] Wit. What is her end, in this? Ev. Merely ambition, 55 Sir, to grow great, and court it with the ſecret: Though ſhee pretend ſome other. For, ſhe’s dealing, Already, vpon caution for the ſhares, And M^r. Ambler, is hee nam’d Examiner For the ingredients; and the Register 60 Of what is vented; and ſhall keepe the Office. Now, if ſhee breake with you, of this (as I Muſt make the leading thred to your acquaintance, That, how experience gotten i’ your being Abroad, will helpe our buſinesse) thinke of ſome 65 Pretty additions, but to keep her floting: It may be, ſhee will offer you a part, Any ſtrange names of— Wit. S^r, I haue my inſtructions. Is it not high time to be making ready? Mer. Yes, Sir. Ing. The foole’s in ſight, Dottrel. Mer. Away, then. 70

Return’d ſo ſoone? Fit. Yes, here’s the ring: I ha’ ſeal’d. But there’s not ſo much gold in all the row, he ſaies— Till’t come fro’ the Mint. ’Tis tane vp for the gameſters. Mer. There’s a ſhop-ſhift! plague on ’hem. Fit. He do’s ſweare it. Mer. He’ll ſweare, and forſweare too, it is his trade, 5 You ſhould not haue left him. Fit. S’lid, I can goe backe, And beat him, yet. Mer. No, now let him alone. Fit. I was ſo earneſt, after the maine Buſineſſe, To haue this ring, gone. Mer. True, and ’tis time. I’haue learned, Sir, ſin’ you went, her Ladi-ſhip eats 10 With the Lady Tail-buſh, here, hard by. Fit. I’ the lane here? Mer. Yes, if you’had a ſeruant, now of prefence, Well cloth’d, and of an aëry voluble tongue, Neither too bigge, or little for his mouth, That could deliuer your wiues complement; 15 To ſend along withall. Fit. I haue one Sir, A very handſome, gentleman-like-fellow, That I doe meane to make my Dutcheſſe Vſher— I entertain’d him, but this morning, too: I’ll call him to you. The worſt of him, is his name! 20 Mer. She’ll take no note of that, but of his meſſage. [139] Hee ſhewes him his Pug. Fit. Diuell! How like you him, Sir. Pace, go a little. Let’s ſee you moue. Mer. He’ll ſerue, S^r, giue it him: And let him goe along with mee, I’ll helpe To preſent him, and it. Fit. Looke, you doe ſirah, 25 Diſcharge this well, as you expect your place. Do’you heare, goe on, come off with all your honours. Giues him inſtructions. I would faine ſee him, do it. Mer. Truſt him, with it; Fit. Remember kiſſing of your hand, and anſwering With the French-time, in flexure of your body. 30 I could now ſo inſtruct him—and for his words— Mer. I’ll put them in his mouth. Fit. O, but I haue ’hem O’ the very Academies. Mer. Sir, you’ll haue vſe for ’hem, Anon, your ſelfe, I warrant you: after dinner, When you are call’d. Fit. S’light, that’ll be iuſt play-time. 35 He longs to ſee the play. It cannot be, I muſt not loſe the play! Mer. Sir, but you muſt, if ſhe appoint to ſit. And, ſhee’s preſident. Fit. S’lid, it is the Diuell. Becauſe it is the Diuell. Mer. And, ’twere his Damme too, you muſt now apply Your ſelfe, Sir, to this, wholly; or loſe all. 40 Fit. If I could but ſee a piece— Mer. S^r. Neuer think on’t. Fit. Come but to one act, and I did not care— But to be ſeene to riſe, and goe away, To vex the Players, and to puniſh their Poet— Keepe him in awe! Mer. But ſay, that he be one, 45 Wi’ not be aw’d! but laugh at you. How then? Fit. Then he ſhall pay for his’dinner himſelfe. Mer. Perhaps, He would doe that twice, rather then thanke you. Come, get the Diuell out of your head, my Lord, (I’ll call you ſo in priuate ſtill) and take 50 Your Lord-ſhip i’ your minde. You were, ſweete Lord, He puts him in mind of his quarrell. In talke to bring a Buſineſſe to the Office. Fit. Yes. Mer. Why ſhould not you, S^r, carry it o’ your ſelfe, Before the Office be vp? and ſhew the world, You had no need of any mans direction; 55 In point, Sir, of ſufficiency. I ſpeake Againſt a kinſman, but as one that tenders Your graces good. Fit. I thanke you; to proceed— Mer. To Publications: ha’ your Deed drawne preſently. And leaue a blancke to put in your Feoffees 60 One, two, or more, as you ſee cauſe— Fit. I thank you Heartily, I doe thanke you. Not a word more, I pray you, as you loue mee. Let mee alone. That I could not thinke o’ this, as well, as hee? O, I could beat my infinite blocke-head—! 65 He is angry with himſelfe. Mer. Come, we muſt this way. Pvg. How far is’t. Mer. Hard by here Ouer the way. Now, to atchieue this ring, From this ſame fellow, that is to aſſure it; [140] He thinkes how to coozen the bearer, of the ring. Before hee giue it. Though my Spaniſh Lady, Be a young Gentleman of meanes, and ſcorne 70 To ſhare, as hee doth ſay, I doe not know How ſuch a toy may tempt his Lady-ſhip: And therefore, I thinke beſt, it be aſſur’d. Pvg. Sir, be the Ladies braue, wee goe vnto? Mer. O, yes. Pvg. And ſhall I ſee ’hem, and ſpeake to ’hem? 75 Mer. What elſe? ha’ you your falſe-beard about you? Traines. Questions his man. Tra. Yes. Mer. And is this one of your double Cloakes? Tra. The beſt of ’hem. Mer. Be ready then. Sweet Pitfall!

Come, I muſt buſſe— Offers to kiſſe. Pit. Away. Mer. I’ll ſet thee vp again. Neuer feare that: canſt thou get ne’r a bird? No Thruſhes hungry? Stay, till cold weather come, I’ll help thee to an Ouſell, or, a Field-fare. Who’s within, with Madame? Pit. I’ll tell you straight. 5 She runs in, in haſte: he followes. Mer. Pleaſe you ſtay here, a while Sir, I’le goe in. Pvg. I doe ſo long to haue a little venery, While I am in this body! I would taſt Of euery ſinne, a little, if it might be After the māner of man! Sweet-heart! Pit. What would you, S^r? 10 Pug leaps at Pitfall’s comming in. Pvg. Nothing but fall in, to you, be your Black-bird, My pretty pit (as the Gentleman ſaid) your Throſtle: Lye tame, and taken with you; here’is gold! To buy you ſo much new ſtuffes, from the ſhop, As I may take the old vp— Tra. You muſt send, Sir. 15 The Gentleman the ring. Traine’s in his falſe cloak, brings a falſe meſſage, and gets the ring. Pvg. There ’tis. Nay looke, Will you be fooliſh, Pit. Pit. This is ſtrange rudeneſſe. Pvg. Deare Pit. Pit. I’ll call, I ſweare. Mere-craft followes preſently, and askes for it. Mer. Where are you, S^r? Is your ring ready? Goe with me. Pvg. I ſent it you. Mer. Me? When? by whom? Pvg. A fellow here, e’en now, 20 Came for it i’ your name. Mer. I ſent none, ſure. My meaning euer was, you ſhould deliuer it, Your ſelfe: So was your Maſters charge, you know. Ent. Train’s as himſelfe againe. What fellow was it, doe you know him? Pvg. Here, But now, he had it. Mer. Saw you any? Traines? 25 Tra. Not I. Pvg. The Gentleman ſaw him. Mer. Enquire. Pvg. I was ſo earneſt vpon her, I mark’d not! The Diuell confeſſeth himſelfe coozen’d. My diuelliſh Chiefe has put mee here in flesh, [141] To ſhame mee! This dull body I am in, I perceiue nothing with! I offer at nothing, 30 That will ſucceed! Tra. Sir, ſhe ſaw none, ſhe ſaies. Pvg. Satan himſelfe, has tane a ſhape t’abuſe me. It could not be elſe. Mer. This is aboue ſtrange! Mere-craft accuſeth him of negligence. That you ſhould be ſo retchleſſe. What’ll you do, Sir? How will you anſwer this, when you are queſtion’d? 35 Pvg. Run from my fleſh, if I could: put off mankind! This’s ſuch a ſcorne! and will be a new exerciſe, For my Arch-Duke! Woe to the ſeuerall cudgells, Muſt suffer, on this backe! Can you no ſuccours? Sir? 39 He asketh ayde. Mer. Alas! the vſe of it is ſo preſent. Pvg. I aske, Sir, credit for another, but till to morrow? Mer. There is not ſo much time, Sir. But how euer, The lady is a noble Lady, and will (To ſaue a Gentleman from check) be intreated Mere-craft promiſeth faintly, yet comforts him. To ſay, ſhe ha’s receiu’d it. Pvg. Do you thinke ſo? 45 Will ſhee be won? Mer. No doubt, to ſuch an office, It will be a Lady’s brauery, and her pride. Pvg. And not be knowne on’t after, vnto him? Mer. That were a treachery! Vpon my word, Be confident. Returne vnto your maſter, 50 My Lady Preſident ſits this after-noone, Ha’s tane the ring, commends her ſeruices Vnto your Lady-Dutcheſſe. You may ſay She’s a ciuill Lady, and do’s giue her All her reſpects, already: Bad you, tell her 55 She liues, but to receiue her wiſh’d commandements, And haue the honor here to kiſſe her hands: For which ſhee’ll ſtay this houre yet. Haſten you Your Prince, away. Pvg. And Sir, you will take care Th’ excuſe be perfect? Mer. You confeſſe your feares. 60 The Diuel is doubtfull. Too much. Pvg. The ſhame is more, I’ll quit you of either.

A Pox vpo’ referring to Commiſsioners, I’had rather heare that it were paſt the ſeales: Your Courtiers moue ſo Snaile-like i’ your Buſineſſe. Wuld I had begun wi’ you. Mer. We muſt moue, Madame, in order, by degrees: not iump. 5 Tay. Why, there was S^r. Iohn Monie-man could iump A Buſineſſe quickely. Mer. True, hee had great friends, But, becauſe ſome, ſweete Madame, can leape ditches, Wee muſt not all ſhunne to goe ouer bridges. The harder parts, I make account are done: 10 He flatters her. Now, ’tis referr’d. You are infinitly bound Vnto’the Ladies, they ha’ so cri’d it vp! Tay. Doe they like it then? Mer. They ha’ ſent the Spaniſh-Lady, To gratulate with you— Tay. I must ſend ’hem thankes And ſome remembrances. Mer. That you muſt, and viſit ’hem. 15 Where’s Ambler? Tay. Loſt, to day, we cannot heare of him. Mer. Not Madam? Tay. No in good faith. They ſay he lay not At home, to night. And here has fall’n a Buſineſſe Betweene your Couſin, and Maſter Manly, has Vnquieted vs all. Mer. So I heare, Madame. 20 Pray you how was it? Tay. Troth, it but appeares Ill o’ your Kinſmans part. You may haue heard, That Manly is a ſutor to me, I doubt not: Mer. I gueſs’d it, Madame. Tay. And it ſeemes, he truſted Your Couſin to let fall some faire reports 25 Of him vnto mee. Mer. Which he did! Tay. So farre From it, as hee came in, and tooke him rayling Againſt him. Mer. How! And what said Manly to him? Tay. Inough, I doe aſſure you: and with that ſcorne Of him, and the iniury, as I doe wonder 30 How Euerill bore it! But that guilt vndoe’s Many mens valors. Mer. Here comes Manly. Man. Madame, [143] I’ll take my leaue— Manly offers to be gone. Tay. You ſha’ not goe, i’ faith. I’ll ha’ you ſtay, and ſee this Spaniſh miracle, Of our Engliſh Ladie. Man. Let me pray your Ladiſhip, 35 Lay your commands on me, some other time. Tay. Now, I proteſt: and I will haue all piec’d, And friends againe. Man. It will be but ill ſolder’d! Tay. You are too much affected with it. Man. I cannot Madame, but thinke on’t for th’ iniuſtice. Tay. Sir, 40 His kinſman here is ſorry. Mer. Not I, Madam, I am no kin to him, wee but call Couſins, Mere-craft denies him. And if wee were, Sir, I haue no relation Vnto his crimes. Man. You are not vrged with ’hem. I can accuſe, Sir, none but mine owne iudgement, 45 For though it were his crime, ſo to betray mee: I am ſure, ’twas more mine owne, at all to truſt him. But he, therein, did vſe but his old manners, And fauour ſtrongly what hee was before. Tay. Come, he will change! Man. Faith, I muſt neuer think it. 50 Nor were it reaſon in mee to expect That for my ſake, hee ſhould put off a nature Hee ſuck’d in with his milke. It may be Madam, Deceiuing truſt, is all he has to truſt to: If ſo, I ſhall be loath, that any hope 55 Of mine, ſhould bate him of his meanes. Tay. Yo’ are ſharp, Sir. This act may make him honeſt! Man. If he were To be made honeſt, by an act of Parliament, I ſhould not alter, i’ my faith of him. Tay. Eyther-ſide! Welcome, deare Either-ſide! how haſt thou done, good wench? She spies the Lady Eyther-ſide. Thou haſt beene a ſtranger! I ha’ not ſeene thee, this weeke. 61

Ever your ſeruant, Madame. Tay. Where hast ’hou beene? [144] I did ſo long to ſee thee. Eit. Viſiting, and ſo tyr’d! I proteſt, Madame, ’tis a monſtrous trouble! Tay. And ſo it is. I ſweare I muſt to morrow, Beginne my viſits (would they were ouer) at Court. 5 It tortures me, to thinke on ’hem. Eit. I doe heare You ha’ cauſe, Madam, your ſute goes on. Tay. Who told thee? Eyt. One, that can tell: M^r. Eyther-ſide. Tay. O, thy huſband! Yes, faith, there’s life in’t, now: It is referr’d. If wee once ſee it vnder the ſeales, wench, then, 10 Haue with ’hem for the great Carroch, ſixe horſes, And the two Coach-men, with my Ambler, bare, And my three women: wee will liue, i’ faith, The examples o’ the towne, and gouerne it. I’le lead the faſhion ſtill. Eit. You doe that, now, 15 Sweet Madame. Tay. O, but then, I’ll euery day Bring vp ſome new deuice. Thou and I, Either-ſide, Will firſt be in it. I will giue it thee; And they ſhall follow vs. Thou ſhalt, I ſweare, Weare euery moneth a new gowne, out of it. 20 Eith. Thanke you good Madame. Tay. Pray thee call mee Taile-buſh As I thee, Either-ſide: I not loue this, Madame. Ety. Then I proteſt to you, Taile-buſh, I am glad Your Buſineſſe ſo ſucceeds. Tay. Thanke thee, good Eyther-ſide. Ety. But Maſter Either-ſide tells me, that he likes 25 Your other Buſineſſe better. Tay. Which? Eit. O’ the Tooth-picks. Tay. I neuer heard on’t. Eit. Aske M^r. Mere-craft. Mer. Madame? H’is one, in a word, I’ll truſt his malice, With any mans credit, I would haue abus’d! Mere-craft hath whiſper’d with the while. Man. Sir, if you thinke you doe pleaſe mee, in this, 30 You are deceiu’d! Mer. No, but becauſe my Lady, Nam’d him my kinſman; I would ſatisfie you, What I thinke of him: and pray you, vpon it To iudge mee! Man. So I doe: that ill mens friendſhip, Is as vnfaithfull, as themſelues. Tay. Doe you heare? 35 Ha’ you a Buſineſſe about Tooth-picks? Mer. Yes, Madame. Did I ne’r tell’t you? I meant to haue offer’d it Your Lady-ſhip, on the perfecting the pattent. [145] Tay. How is’t! Mer. For ſeruing the whole ſtate with Tooth-picks; The Proiect for Tooth-picks. (Somewhat an intricate Buſineſſe to diſcourſe) but—40 I ſhew, how much the Subiect is abus’d, Firſt, in that one commodity? then what diſeaſes, And putrefactions in the gummes are bred, By thoſe are made of adultrate, and falſe wood? My plot, for reformation of theſe, followes. 45 To haue all Tooth-picks, brought vnto an office, There ſeal’d; and ſuch as counterfait ’hem, mulcted. And laſt, for venting ’hem to haue a booke Printed, to teach their vſe, which euery childe Shall haue throughout the kingdome, that can read, 50 And learne to picke his teeth by. Which beginning Earely to practice, with ſome other rules, Of neuer ſleeping with the mouth open, chawing Some graines of maſticke, will preſerue the breath Pure, and ſo free from taynt—ha’ what is’t? ſaiſt thou? Traines his man whiſpers him. Tay. Good faith, it ſounds a very pretty Bus’neſſe! 56 Eit. So M^r. Either-ſide ſaies, Madame. Mer. The Lady is come. Tay. Is ſhe? Good, waite vpon her in. My Ambler Was neuer ſo ill abſent. Either-ſide, How doe I looke to day? Am I not dreſt, 60 Spruntly? She lookes in her glaſſe. Eit. Yes, verily, Madame. Tay. Pox o’ Madame, Will you not leaue that? Eit. Yes, good Taile-buſh. Tay. So? Sounds not that better? What vile Fucus is this, Thou haſt got on? Eit. ’Tis Pearle. Tay. Pearle? Oyſter-ſhells: As I breath, Either-side, I know’t. Here comes 65 (They say) a wonder, ſirrah, has beene in Spaine! Will teach vs all; ſhee’s ſent to mee, from Court. To gratulate with mee! Pr’y thee, let’s obſerue her, What faults ſhe has, that wee may laugh at ’hem, When ſhe is gone. Eit. That we will heartily, Tail-buſh. 70 Wittipol enters. Tay. O, mee! the very Infanta of the Giants!

Wittipol is dreſt like a Spaniſh Lady. Mer. Here is a noble Lady, Madame, come, [146] From your great friends, at Court, to ſee your Ladi-ſhip: And haue the honour of your acquaintance. Tay. Sir. She do’s vs honour. Wit. Pray you, ſay to her Ladiſhip, It is the manner of Spaine, to imbrace onely, 5 Neuer to kiſſe. She will excuſe the cuſtome! Excuſes him ſelfe for not kiſſing. Tay. Your vſe of it is law. Pleaſe you, ſweete, Madame, To take a ſeate. Wit. Yes, Madame. I’haue had The fauour, through a world of faire report To know your vertues, Madame; and in that 10 Name, haue deſir’d the happineſſe of preſenting My ſeruice to your Ladiſhip! Tay. Your loue, Madame, I muſt not owne it elſe. Wit. Both are due, Madame, To your great vndertakings. Tay. Great? In troth, Madame, They are my friends, that thinke ’hem any thing: 15 If I can doe my ſexe (by ’hem) any ſeruice, I’haue my ends, Madame. Wit. And they are noble ones, That make a multitude beholden, Madame: The common-wealth of Ladies, muſt acknowledge from you. Eit. Except ſome enuious, Madame. Wit. Yo’ are right in that, Madame, 20 Of which race, I encountred ſome but lately. Who (’t ſeemes) haue ſtudyed reaſons to diſcredit Your buſineſſe. Tay. How, ſweet Madame. Wit. Nay, the parties Wi’ not be worth your pauſe—Moſt ruinous things, Madame, That haue put off all hope of being recouer’d 25 To a degree of handſomeneſſe. Tay. But their reaſons, Madame? I would faine heare. Wit. Some Madame, I remember. They ſay, that painting quite deſtroyes the face— Eit. O, that’s an old one, Madame. Wit. There are new ones, too. Corrupts the breath; hath left ſo little ſweetneſſe 30 In kiſſing, as ’tis now vſ’d, but for faſhion: And ſhortly will be taken for a puniſhment. Decayes the fore-teeth, that ſhould guard the tongue; And ſuffers that runne riot euer-laſting! And (which is worſe) ſome Ladies when they meete 35 Cannot be merry, and laugh, but they doe ſpit In one anothers faces! Man. I ſhould know This voyce, and face too: Manly begins to know him. VVit. Then they ſay, ’tis dangerous [147] To all the falne, yet well diſpos’d Mad-dames, That are induſtrious, and deſire to earne 40 Their liuing with their ſweate! For any diſtemper Of heat, and motion, may diſplace the colours; And if the paint once runne about their faces, Twenty to one, they will appeare ſo ill-fauour’d, Their ſeruants run away, too, and leaue the pleaſure 45 Imperfect, and the reckoning all vnpay’d. Eit. Pox, theſe are Poets reaſons. Tay. Some old Lady That keepes a Poet, has deuis’d theſe ſcandales. Eit. Faith we muſt haue the Poets baniſh’d, Madame, As Maſter Either-ſide ſaies. Mer. Maſter Fitz-dottrel? 50 And his wife: where? Madame, the Duke of Drown’d-land, That will be ſhortly. VVit. Is this my Lord? Mer. The ſame.

Your ſeruant, Madame! VVit. How now? Friend? offended, That I haue found your haunt here? Wittipol whiſpers with Manly. Man. No, but wondring At your ſtrange faſhion’d venture, hither. VVit. It is To ſhew you what they are, you ſo purſue. Man. I thinke ’twill proue a med’cine againſt marriage; To know their manners. VVit. Stay, and profit then. 6 Mer. The Lady, Madame, whose Prince has brought her, here, To be inſtructed. Hee preſents Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel. VVit. Pleaſe you ſit with vs, Lady. Mer. That’s Lady-Preſident. Fit. A goodly woman! I cannot ſee the ring, though. Mer. Sir, ſhe has it. 10 Tay. But, Madame, theſe are very feeble reaſons! Wit. So I vrg’d Madame, that the new complexion, Now to come forth, in name o’ your Ladiſhip’s fucus, Had no ingredient— Tay. But I durſt eate, I aſſure you. Wit. So do they, in Spaine. Tay. Sweet Madam be ſo liberall, 15 To giue vs ſome o’ your Spaniſh Fucuſes! VVit. They are infinit, Madame. Tay. So I heare, they haue VVater of Gourdes, of Radiſh, the white Beanes, Flowers of Glaſſe, of Thiſtles, Roſe-marine. Raw Honey, Muſtard-ſeed, and Bread dough-bak’d, 20 The crums o’ bread, Goats-milke, and whites of Egges, Campheere, and Lilly-roots, the fat of Swannes, Marrow of Veale, white Pidgeons, and pine-kernells, [148] The ſeedes of Nettles, perse’line, and hares gall. Limons, thin-skind— Eit. How, her Ladiſhip has ſtudied 25 Al excellent things! VVit. But ordinary, Madame. No, the true rarities, are th’ Aluagada, And Argentata of Queene Isabella! Tay. I, what are their ingredients, gentle Madame? Wit. Your Allum Scagliola, or Pol-dipedra; 30 And Zuccarino; Turpentine of Abezzo, Wash’d in nine waters: Soda di leuante, Or your Ferne aſhes; Beniamin di gotta; Graſſo di ſerpe; Porcelletto marino; Oyles of Lentiſco; Zucche Mugia; make 35 The admirable Verniſh for the face, Giues the right luſter; but two drops rub’d on VVith a piece of ſcarlet, makes a Lady of ſixty Looke at ſixteen. But, aboue all, the water Of the white Hen, of the Lady Eſtifanias! 40 Tay. O, I, that ſame, good Madame, I haue heard of: How is it done? VVit. Madame, you take your Hen, Plume it, and skin it, cleanſe it o’ the inwards: Then chop it, bones and all: adde to foure ounces Of Carrauicins, Pipitas, Sope of Cyprus, 45 Make the decoction, ſtreine it. Then diſtill it, And keep it in your galley-pot well glidder’d: Three drops preſerues from wrinkles, warts, ſpots, moles, Blemiſh, or Sun-burnings, and keepes the skin In decimo ſexto, euer bright, and ſmooth, 50 As any looking-glaſſe; and indeed, is call’d The Virgins milke for the face, Oglio reale; A Ceruſe, neyther cold or heat, will hurt; And mixt with oyle of myrrhe, and the red Gilli-flower Call’d Cataputia; and flowers of Rouiſtico; 55 Makes the beſt muta, or dye of the whole world. Tay. Deare Madame, will you let vs be familiar? Wit. Your Ladiſhips ſeruant. Mer. How do you like her. Fit. Admirable! But, yet, I cannot ſee the ring. Hee is iealous about his ring, and Mere-craft deliuers it. Pvg. Sir. Mer. I muſt Deliuer it, or marre all. This foole’s ſo iealous. 60 Madame—Sir, weare this ring, and pray you take knowledge, ’Twas ſent you by his wife. And giue her thanks, Doe not you dwindle, Sir, beare vp. Pvg. I thanke you, Sir. Tay. But for the manner of Spaine! Sweet, Madame, let vs Be bold, now we are in: Are all the Ladies, 65 There, i’ the faſhion? VVit. None but Grandee’s, Madame, O’ the claſp’d traine, which may be worne at length, too, Or thus, vpon my arme. Tay. And doe they weare Cioppino’s all? VVit. If they be dreſt in punto, Madame. Eit. Guilt as thoſe are? madame? Wit. Of Goldſmiths work, madame; [149] 70 And ſet with diamants: and their Spaniſh pumps Of perfum’d leather. Tai. I ſhould thinke it hard To go in ’hem, madame. Wit. At the firſt, it is, madame. Tai. Do you neuer fall in ’hem? Wit. Neuer. Ei. I ſweare, I ſhould Six times an houre. Wit. But you haue men at hand, ſstill, To helpe you, if you fall? Eit. Onely one, madame, 76 The Guardo-duennas, ſuch a little old man, As this. Eit. Alas! hee can doe nothing! this! Wit. I’ll tell you, madame, I ſaw i’ the Court of Spaine once, A Lady fall i’ the Kings ſight, along, 80 And there ſhee lay, flat ſpred, as an Vmbrella, Her hoope here crack’d; no man durſt reach a hand To helpe her, till the Guarda-duenn’as came, VVho is the perſon onel’ allow’d to touch A Lady there: and he but by this finger. 85 Eit. Ha’ they no ſeruants, madame, there? nor friends? Wit. An Eſcudero, or ſo madame, that wayts Vpon ’hem in another Coach, at diſtance, And when they walke, or daunce, holds by a hand-kercher, Neuer preſumes to touch ’hem. Eit. This’s ſciruy! 90 And a forc’d grauity! I doe not like it. I like our owne much better. Tay. ’Tis more French, And Courtly ours. Eit. And taſts more liberty. VVe may haue our doozen of viſiters, at once, Make loue t’vs. Tay. And before our husbands? Eit. Huſband? 95 As I am honeſt, Tayle-buſh I doe thinke If no body ſhould loue mee, but my poore husband, I ſhould e’n hang my ſelfe. Tay. Fortune forbid, wench: So faire a necke ſhould haue ſo foule a neck-lace. Eit. ’Tis true, as I am handſome! Wit. I receiu’d, Lady, 100 A token from you, which I would not bee Rude to refuſe, being your firſt remembrance. (Fit. O, I am ſatisfied now! Mer. Do you ſee it, Sir.) Wit. But ſince you come, to know me, neerer, Lady, I’ll begge the honour, you will weare for mee, 105 It muſt be ſo. Wittipol giues it Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel. M^rs. Fit. Sure I haue heard this tongue. Mer. What do you meane, S^r? Mere-craft murmures, Wit. Would you ha’ me mercenary? We’ll recompence it anon, in ſomewhat elſe. He is ſatisfied, now he ſees it. Fit. I doe not loue to be gull’d, though in a toy. VVife, doe you heare? yo’ are come into the Schole, wife, VVhere you may learne, I doe perceiue it, any thing! 111 How to be fine, or faire, or great, or proud, Or what you will, indeed, wife; heere ’tis taught. And I am glad on’t, that you may not ſay, Another day, when honours come vpon you, 115 You wanted meanes. I ha’ done my parts: beene, Today at fifty pound charge, firſt, for a ring, [150] He vpbraids her, with his Bill of coſts. To get you entred. Then left my new Play, To wait vpon you, here, to ſee’t confirm’d. That I may ſay, both to mine owne eyes, and eares, 120 Senſes, you are my witneſſe, ſha’ hath inioy’d All helps that could be had, for loue, or money— M^rs. Fit. To make a foole of her. Fit. Wife, that’s your malice, The wickedneſſe o’ you nature to interpret Your husbands kindeſſe thus. But I’ll not leaue; 125 Still to doe good, for your deprau’d affections: Intend it. Bend this ſtubborne will; be great. Tay. Good Madame, whom do they vſe in meſſages? Wit. They comonly vſe their ſlaues, Madame. Tai. And do’s your Ladiſhip. Thinke that ſo good, Madame? Wit. no, indeed, Madame; I, 130 Therein preferre the faſhion of England farre, Of your young delicate Page, or diſcreet Vſher. Fit. And I goe with your Ladiſhip, in opinion, Directly for your Gentleman-vſher. There’s not a finer Officer goes on ground. 135 Wit. If hee be made and broken to his place, once. Fit. Nay, ſo I preſuppoſe him. Wit. And they are fitter Managers too, Sir, but I would haue ’hem call’d Our Eſcudero’s. Fit. Good. Wit. Say, I ſhould ſend To your Ladiſhip, who (I preſume) has gather’d 140 All the deare ſecrets, to know how to make Paſtillos of the Dutcheſſe of Braganza, Coquettas, Almoiauana’s, Mantecada’s, Alcoreas, Muſtaccioli; or ſay it were The Peladore of Isabella, or balls 145 Againſt the itch, or aqua nanfa, or oyle Of Ieſſamine for gloues, of the Marqueſſe Muja: Or for the head, and hayre: why, theſe are offices. Fit. Fit for a gentleman, not a ſlaue. They onely Might aske for your pineti, Spaniſh-cole, 150 To burne, and ſweeten a roome; but the Arcana Of Ladies Cabinets— Fit. Should be elſe-where truſted. Yo’ are much about the truth. Sweet honoured Ladies, He enters himſelfe with the Ladies. Let mee fall in wi’ you. I’ha’ my female wit, As well as my male. And I doe know what ſutes 155 A Lady of ſpirit, or a woman of faſhion! Wit. And you would haue your wife ſuch. Fit. Yes, Madame, aërie, Light; not to plaine diſhoneſty, I meane: But, ſomewhat o’ this ſide. Wit. I take you, Sir. H’has reaſon Ladies. I’ll not giue this ruſh 160 For any Lady, that cannot be honeſt Within a thred. Tay. Yes, Madame, and yet venter As far for th’other, in her Fame— Wit. As can be; Coach it to Pimlico; daunce the Saraband; [151] Heare, and talke bawdy; laugh as loud, as a larum; 165 Squeake, ſpring, do any thing. Eit. In young company, Madame. Tay. Or afore gallants. If they be braue, or Lords, A woman is ingag’d. Fit. I ſay ſo, Ladies, It is ciuility to deny vs nothing. Pvg. You talke of a Vniuerſity! why, Hell is 170 A Grammar-ſchoole to this! The Diuell admires him. Eit. But then, Shee muſt not loſe a looke on ſtuffes, or cloth, Madame. Tay. Nor no courſe fellow. Wit. She muſt be guided, Madame By the clothes he weares, and company he is in; Whom to ſalute, how farre— Fit. I ha’ told her this. 175 And how that bawdry too, vpo’ the point, Is (in it ſelfe) as ciuill a diſcourſe— Wit. As any other affayre of fleſh, what euer. Fit. But ſhee will ne’r be capable, ſhee is not So much as comming, Madame; I know not how 180 She loſes all her opportunities With hoping to be forc’d. I’haue entertain’d He ſhews his Pug. A gentleman, a younger brother, here, Whom I would faine breed vp, her Eſcudero, Againſt ſome expectation’s that I haue, 185 And ſhe’ll not countenance him. Wit. What’s his name? Fit. Diuel, o’ Darbi-ſhire. Eit. Bleſſe us from him! Tay. Diuell? Call him De-uile, ſweet Madame. M^rs. Fi. What you pleaſe, Ladies. Tay. De-uile’s a prettier name! Eit. And ſounds, me thinks, As it came in with the Conquerour— Man. Ouer ſmocks! 190 What things they are? That nature ſhould be at leaſure Euer to make ’hem! my woing is at an end. Manly goes out with indignation. Wit. What can he do? Eit. Let’s heare him. Tay. Can he manage? Fit. Pleaſe you to try him, Ladies. Stand forth, Diuell. Pvg. Was all this but the preface to my torment? 195 Fit. Come, let their Ladiſhips ſee your honours. Eit. O, Hee makes a wicked leg. Tay. As euer I ſaw! Wit. Fit for a Diuell. Tay. Good Madame, call him De-uile. Wit. De-uile, what property is there moſt required I’ your conceit, now, in the Eſcudero? 200 They begin their Catechiſme. Fit. Why doe you not speake? Pvg. A ſetled diſcreet paſe, Madame. Wit. I thinke, a barren head, Sir, Mountaine-like, To be expos’d to the cruelty of weathers— Fit. I, for his Valley is beneath the waſte, Madame, And to be fruitfull there, it is ſufficient. 205 Dulneſſe vpon you! Could not you hit this? Pvg. Good Sir— He ſtrikes him. Wit. He then had had no barren head. You daw him too much, in troth, Sir. Fit. I muſt walke With the French ſticke, like an old vierger for you. Pvg. O, Chiefe, call mee to Hell againe, and free mee. 210 The Diuell prayes. Fit. Do you murmur now? Pvg. Not I, S^r. Wit. What do you take [152] M^r. Deuile, the height of your employment, In the true perfect Eſcudero? Fit. When? What doe you anſwer? Pvg. To be able, Madame, Firſt to enquire, then report the working, 215 Of any Ladies phyſicke, in ſweete phraſe. Wit. Yes, that’s an act of elegance, and importance. But what aboue? Fit. O, that I had a goad for him. Pvg. To find out a good Corne-cutter. Tay. Out on him! Eit. Moſt barbarous! Fit. Why did you doe this, now? 220 Of purpoſe to diſcredit me? you damn’d Diuell. Pvg. Sure, if I be not yet, I ſhall be. All My daies in Hell, were holy-daies to this! Tay. ’Tis labour loſt, Madame? Eit. H’is a dull fellow Of no capacity! Tai. Of no diſcourſe! 225 O, if my Ambler had beene here! Eit. I, Madame; You talke of a man, where is there ſuch another? Wit. M^r. Deuile, put caſe, one of my Ladies, heere, Had a fine brach: and would imploy you forth To treate ’bout a conuenient match for her. 230 What would you obſerue? Pvg. The color, and the ſize, Madame. Wit. And nothing elſe? Fit. The Moon, you calfe, the Moone! Wit. I, and the Signe. Tai. Yes, and receits for proneneſſe. Wit. Then when the Puppies came, what would you doe? Pvg. Get their natiuities caſt! Wit. This’s wel. What more? 235 Pvg. Conſult the Almanack-man which would be leaſt? Which cleanelieſt? Wit. And which ſilenteſt? This’s wel, madame! Wit. And while ſhe were with puppy? Pvg. Walke her out, And ayre her euery morning! Wit. Very good! And be induſtrious to kill her fleas? 240 Pvg. Yes! Wit. He will make a pretty proficient. Pvg. Who, Comming from Hell, could looke for ſuch Catechiſing? The Diuell is an Aſſe. I doe acknowledge it. Fit. The top of woman! All her ſexe in abſtract! Fitz-dottrel admires Wittipol. I loue her, to each ſyllable, falls from her. 245 Tai. Good madame giue me leaue to goe aſide with him! And try him a little! Wit. Do, and I’ll with-draw, Madame, VVith this faire Lady: read to her, the while. Tai. Come, S^r. Pvg. Deare Chiefe, relieue me, or I periſh. The Diuel praies again. Wit. Lady, we’ll follow. You are not iealous Sir? 250 Fit. O, madame! you ſhall ſee. Stay wife, behold, I giue her vp heere, abſolutely, to you, She is your owne. Do with her what you will! He giues his wife to him, taking him to be a Lady. Melt, caſt, and forme her as you ſhall thinke good! Set any ſtamp on! I’ll receiue her from you 255 As a new thing, by your owne ſtandard! VVit. Well, Sir!

But what ha’ you done i’ your Dependance, ſince? [153] Fit. O, it goes on, I met your Couſin, the Maſter— Mer. You did not acquaint him, S^r? Fit. Faith, but I did, S^r. And vpon better thought, not without reaſon! He being chiefe Officer, might ha’ tane it ill, elſe, 5 As a Contempt againſt his Place, and that In time Sir, ha’ drawne on another Dependance. No, I did finde him in good termes, and ready To doe me any ſeruice. Mer. So he said, to you? But S^r, you do not know him. Fit. VVhy, I presum’d 10 Becauſe this bus’neſſe of my wiues, requir’d mee, I could not ha’ done better: And hee told Me, that he would goe preſently to your Councell, A Knight, here, i’ the Lane— Mer. Yes, Iuſtice Either-ſide. Fit. And get the Feoffment drawne, with a letter of Atturney, 15 For liuerie and ſeiſen! Mer. That I knowe’s the courſe. But Sir, you meane not to make him Feoffee? Fit. Nay, that I’ll pauſe on! Mer. How now little Pit-fall. Pit. Your Couſin Maſter Euer-ill, would come in— But he would know if Maſter Manly were heere. 20 Mer. No, tell him, if he were, I ha’ made his peace! Mere-craft whiſpers againſt him. Hee’s one, Sir, has no State, and a man knowes not, How such a trust may tempt him. Fit. I conceiue you. Eve. S^r. this ſame deed is done here. Mer. Pretty Plutarchus? Art thou come with it? and has Sir Paul view’d it? 25 Plv. His hand is to the draught. Mer. VVill you step in, S^r. And read it? Fit. Yes. Eve. I pray you a word wi’ you. Eueril whiſpers against Mere-craft. Sir Paul Eitherside will’d mee gi’ you caution, Whom you did make Feoffee: for ’tis the truſt O’ your whole State: and though my Cousin heere 30 Be a worthy Gentleman, yet his valour has At the tall board bin queſtion’d: and we hold Any man ſo impeach’d, of doubtfull honesty! I will not iuſtiſie this; but giue it you To make your profit of it: if you vtter it, 35 I can forſweare it! Fit. I beleeue you, and thanke you, Sir.

Be not afraid, ſweet Lady: yo’ are truſted [154] To loue, not violence here; I am no rauiſher, But one, whom you, by your faire truſt againe, May of a ſeruant make a moſt true friend. M^rs. Fi. And ſuch a one I need, but not this way: 5 Sir, I confeſſe me to you, the meere manner Of your attempting mee, this morning tooke mee, And I did hold m’inuention, and my manners, Were both engag’d, to giue it a requitall; But not vnto your ends: my hope was then, 10 (Though interrupted, ere it could be vtter’d) That whom I found the Maſter of ſuch language, That braine and ſpirit, for ſuch an enterpriſe, Could not, but if thoſe ſuccours were demanded To a right vſe, employ them vertuouſly! 15 And make that profit of his noble parts, Which they would yeeld. S^r, you haue now the ground, To exerciſe them in: I am a woman: That cannot ſpeake more wretchedneſſe of my ſelfe, Then you can read; match’d to a maſſe of folly; 20 That euery day makes haſte to his owne ruine; The wealthy portion, that I brought him, ſpent; And (through my friends neglect) no ioynture made me. My fortunes ſtanding in this precipice, ’Tis Counſell that I want, and honeſt aides: 25 And in this name, I need you, for a friend! Neuer in any other; for his ill, Muſt not make me, S^r, worſe. Manly, conceal’d this while, ſhews himſelf. Man. O friend! forſake not The braue occaſion, vertue offers you, To keepe you innocent: I haue fear’d for both; 30 And watch’d you, to preuent the ill I fear’d. But, ſince the weaker ſide hath ſo aſſur’d mee, Let not the ſtronger fall by his owne vice, Or be the leſſe a friend, cauſe vertue needs him. Wit. Vertue ſhall neuer aske my ſuccours twice; 35 Moſt friend, moſt man: your Counſells are commands: Lady, I can loue goodnes in you, more [155] Then I did Beauty; and doe here intitle Your vertue, to the power, vpon a life You ſhall engage in any fruitfull ſeruice, 40 Euen to forfeit. Mer. Madame: Do you heare, Sir, Mere-craft takes Wittipol aſide, & moues a proiect for himſelfe. We haue another leg-ſtrain’d, for this Dottrel. He’ha’s a quarrell to carry, and ha’s cauſ’d A deed of Feoffment, of his whole eſtate To be drawne yonder; h’ha’ſt within: And you, 45 Onely, he meanes to make Feoffee. H’is falne So deſperatly enamour’d on you, and talkes Moſt like a mad-man: you did neuer heare A Phrentick, ſo in loue with his owne fauour! Now, you doe know, ’tis of no validity 50 In your name, as you ſtand; Therefore aduiſe him To put in me. (h’is come here:) You ſhall ſhare Sir.

Fit. Madame, I haue a ſuit to you; and afore-hand, I doe beſpeake you; you muſt not deny me, I will be graunted. Wit. Sir, I muſt know it, though. Fit. No Lady; you muſt not know it: yet, you muſt too. For the truſt of it, and the fame indeed, 5 Which elſe were loſt me. I would vfe your name, But in a Feoffment: make my whole eſtate Ouer vnto you: a trifle, a thing of nothing, Some eighteene hundred. Wit. Alas! I vnderſtand not Thoſe things Sir. I am a woman, and moſt loath, 10 To embarque my ſelfe— Fit. You will not ſlight me, Madame? Wit. Nor you’ll not quarrell me? Fit. No, ſweet Madame, I haue Already a dependance; for which cauſe I doe this: let me put you in, deare Madame, I may be fairely kill’d. Wit. You haue your friends, Sir, 15 About you here, for choice. Eve. She tells you right, Sir. Hee hopes to be the man. Fit. Death, if ſhe doe, what do I care for that? Say, I would haue her tell me wrong. Wit. Why, Sir, [156] If for the truſt, you’ll let me haue the honor To name you one. Fit. Nay, you do me the honor, Madame: 20 Who is’t? Wit. This Gentleman: Shee deſignes Manly. Fit. O, no, sweet Madame, H’is friend to him, with whom I ha’ the dependance. Wit. Who might he bee? Fit. One Wittipol: do you know him? Wit. Alas Sir, he, a toy: This Gentleman A friend to him? no more then I am Sir! 25 Fit. But will your Ladyſhip vndertake that, Madame? Wit. Yes, and what elſe, for him, you will engage me. Fit. What is his name? VVit. His name is Euſtace Manly. Fit. VVhence do’s he write himſelfe? VVit. of Middle-ſex, Eſquire. Fit. Say nothing, Madame. Clerke, come hether 30 VVrite Euſtace Manly, Squire o’ Middle-ſex. Mer. What ha’ you done, Sir? VVit. Nam’d a gentleman, That I’ll be anſwerable for, to you, Sir. Had I nam’d you, it might ha’ beene ſuſpected: This way, ’tis ſafe. Fit. Come Gentlemen, your hands, 35 For witnes. Man. VVhat is this? Eve. You ha’ made Election Eueril applaudes it. Of a moſt worthy Gentleman! Man. VVould one of worth Had ſpoke it: whence it comes, it is Rather a ſhame to me, then a praiſe. Eve. Sir, I will giue you any Satisfaction. 40 Man. Be ſilent then: “falſhood commends not truth”. Plv. You do deliuer this, Sir, as your deed. To th’ vſe of M^r. Manly? Fit. Yes: and Sir— VVhen did you ſee yong Wittipol? I am ready, For proceſſe now; Sir, this is Publication. 45 He ſhall heare from me, he would needes be courting My wife, Sir. Man. Yes: So witneſſeth his Cloake there. Fit. Nay good Sir,—Madame, you did vndertake— Fitz-dottrel is ſuſpicious of Manly ſtill. VVit. VVhat? Fit. That he was not Wittipols friend. VVit. I heare S^r. no confeſſion of it. Fit. O ſhe know’s not; 50 Now I remember, Madame! This young Wittipol, VVould ha’ debauch’d my wife, and made me Cuckold, Through a caſement; he did fly her home To mine owne window: but I think I ſou’t him, And rauifh’d her away, out of his pownces. 55 I ha’ ſworne to ha’ him by the eares: I feare The toy, wi’ not do me right. VVit. No? that were pitty! VVhat right doe you aske, Sir? Here he is will do’t you? Wittipol diſcouers himſelfe. Fit. Ha? Wittipol? VVit. I Sir, no more Lady now, Nor Spaniard! Man. No indeed, ’tis Wittipol. 60 Fit. Am I the thing I fear’d? VVit. A Cuckold? No Sir, But you were late in poſſibility, I’ll tell you ſo much. Man. But your wife’s too vertuous! VVit. VVee’ll ſee her Sir, at home, and leaue you here, To be made Duke o’ Shore-ditch with a proiect. [157] 65 Fit. Theeues, rauiſhers. VVit. Crie but another note, Sir, I’ll marre the tune, o’ your pipe! Fit. Gi’ me my deed, then. He would haue his deed again. VVit. Neither: that ſhall be kept for your wiues good, VVho will know, better how to vſe it. Fit. Ha’ To feaſt you with my land? VVit. Sir, be you quiet, 70 Or I ſhall gag you, ere I goe, conſult Your Maſter of dependances; how to make this A ſecond buſineſſe, you haue time Sir. VVitipol bafflees him, and goes out. Fit. Oh! VVhat will the ghoſt of my wiſe Grandfather, My learned Father, with my worſhipfull Mother, 75 Thinke of me now, that left me in this world In ſtate to be their Heire? that am become A Cuckold, and an Aſſe, and my wiues Ward; Likely to looſe my land; ha’ my throat cut: All, by her practice! Mer. Sir, we are all abus’d! 80 Fit. And be ſo ſtill! VVho hinders you, I pray you, Let me alone, I would enioy my ſelfe, And be the Duke o’ Drown’d-Land, you ha’ made me. Mer. Sir, we muſt play an after-game o’ this. Fit. But I am not in caſe to be a Gam-ſter: 85 I tell you once againe— Mer. You muſt be rul’d And take some counſell. Fit. Sir, I do hate counſell, As I do hate my wife, my wicked wife! Mer. But we may thinke how to recouer all: If you will act. Fit. I will not think; nor act; 90 Nor yet recouer; do not talke to me? I’ll runne out o’ my witts, rather then heare; I will be what I am, Fabian Fitz-Dottrel, Though all the world ſay nay to’t. Mer. Let’s follow him.

Bvt ha’s my Lady miſt me? Pit. Beyond telling! Here ha’s been that infinity of ſtrangers! And then ſhe would ha’ had you, to ha’ ſampled you VVith one within, that they are now a teaching; And do’s pretend to your ranck. Amb. Good fellow Pit-fall, 5 Tel M^r. Mere-craft, I intreat a word with him. Pitfall goes out. This most vnlucky accident will goe neare To be the loſſe o’ my place; I am in doubt! Mer. VVith me? what ſay you M^r Ambler? Amb. Sir, I would beſeech your worſhip ſtand betweene 10 Me, and my Ladies diſpleaſure, for my abſence. Mer. O, is that all? I warrant you. Amb. I would tell you Sir But how it happened. Mer. Brief, good Maſter Ambler, Put your selfe to your rack: for I haue taſque Of more importance. Mere-craft ſeemes full of buſineſſe. Amb. Sir you’ll laugh at me? 15 But (ſo is Truth) a very friend of mine, Finding by conference with me, that I liu’d Too chaſt for my complexion (and indeed Too honeſt for my place, Sir) did aduiſe me If I did loue my ſelfe (as that I do, 20 I muſt confeſſe) Mer. Spare your Parentheſis. Amb. To gi’ my body a little euacuation— Mer. Well, and you went to a whore? Amb. No, S^r. I durſt not (For feare it might arriue at ſome body’s eare, It ſhould not) truſt my ſelfe to a common houſe; 25 Ambler tels this with extraordinary ſpeed. But got the Gentlewoman to goe with me, And carry her bedding to a Conduit-head, Hard by the place toward Tyborne, which they call My L. Majors Banqueting-houſe. Now Sir, This morning Was Execution; and I ner’e dream’t on’t 30 Till I heard the noiſe o’ the people, and the horſes; And neither I, nor the poore Gentlewoman [159] Durſt ſtirre, till all was done and paſt: ſo that I’ the Interim, we fell a ſleepe againe. He flags. Mer. Nay, if you fall, from your gallop, I am gone S^r. 35 Amb. But, when I wak’d, to put on my cloathes, a ſute, I made new for the action, it was gone, And all my money, with my purſe, my ſeales, My hard-wax, and my table-bookes, my ſtudies, And a fine new deuiſe, I had to carry 40 My pen, and inke, my ciuet, and my tooth-picks, All vnder one. But, that which greiu’d me, was The Gentlewoman’s ſhoes (with a paire of roſes, And garters, I had giuen her for the buſineſſe) So as that made vs ſtay, till it was darke. 45 For I was faine to lend her mine, and walke In a rug, by her, barefoote, to Saint Giles’es. Mer. A kind of Iriſh penance! Is this all, Sir? Amb. To ſatisfie my Lady. Mer. I will promiſe you, S^r. Amb. I ha’ told the true Diſaſter. Mer. I cannot ſtay wi’ you 50 Sir, to condole; but gratulate your returne. Amb. An honeſt gentleman, but he’s neuer at leiſure To be himſelfe: He ha’s ſuch tides of buſineſſe.

O, Call me home againe, deare Chiefe, and put me To yoaking foxes, milking of Hee-goates, Pounding of water in a morter, lauing The ſea dry with a nut-ſhell, gathering all The leaues are falne this Autumne, drawing farts 5 Out of dead bodies, making ropes of ſand, Catching the windes together in a net, Muſtring of ants, and numbring atomes; all That hell, and you thought exquiſite torments, rather Then ſtay me here, a thought more: I would ſooner 10 Keepe fleas within a circle, and be accomptant A thouſand yeere, which of ’hem and how far Out leap’d the other, then endure a minute Such as I haue within. There is no hell To a Lady of faſhion. All your torture there 15 Are paſtimes to it. ’T would be a refreſhing [160] For me, to be i’ the fire againe, from hence. Ambler comes in, & ſuruayes him. Amb. This is my ſuite, and thoſe the ſhoes and roſes! Pvg. Th’ haue such impertinent vexations, A generall Councell o’ diuels could not hit— 20 Pug perceiues it, and ſtarts. Ha! This is hee, I tooke a ſleepe with his Wench, And borrow’d his cloathes. What might I doe to balke him? Amb. Do you heare, S^r? Pvg. Answ. him but not to th’purpoſe Amb. What is your name, I pray you Sir. Pvg. Is’t ſo late Sir? He anſwers quite from the purpoſe. Amb. I aske not o’ the time, but of your name, Sir. 25 Pvg. I thanke you, Sir. Yes it dos hold Sir, certaine. Amb. Hold, Sir? what holds? I muſt both hold, and talke to you About theſe clothes. Pvg. A very pretty lace! But the Taylor coſſend me. Amb. No, I am coſſend By you! robb’d. Pvg. Why, when you pleaſe Sir, I am 30 For three peny Gleeke, your man. Amb. Pox o’ your gleeke, And three pence. Giue me an anſwere. Pvg. Sir, My maſter is the beſt at it. Amb. Your maſter! Who is your Maſter. Pvg. Let it be friday night. Amb. What ſhould be then? Pvg. Your beſt ſongs Thom. o’ Bet’lem 35 Amb. I thinke, you are he. Do’s he mocke me trow, from purpoſe? Or do not I ſpeake to him, what I meane? Good Sir your name. Pvg. Only a couple a’ Cocks Sir, If we can get a Widgin, ’tis in ſeaſon. Amb. He hopes to make on o’ theſe Scipticks o’ me 40 For Scepticks. (I thinke I name ’hem right) and do’s not fly me. I wonder at that! ’tis a ſtrange confidence! I’ll prooue another way, to draw his anſwer.

It is the eaſieſt thing Sir, to be done. As plaine, as fizzling: roule but wi’ your eyes, And foame at th’ mouth. A little caſtle-ſoape Will do’t, to rub your lips: And then a nutſhell, With toe, and touch-wood in it to ſpit fire, 5 Did you ner’e read, Sir, little Darrels tricks, With the boy o’ Burton, and the 7. in Lancaſhire, Sommers at Nottingham? All theſe do teach it. And wee’ll giue out, Sir, that your wife ha’s bewitch’d you: [161] They repaire their old plot. Eve. And practiſed with thoſe two, as Sorcerers. 10 Mer. And ga’ you potions, by which meanes you were Not Compos mentis, when you made your feoffment. There’s no recouery o’ your ſtate, but this: This, Sir, will ſting. Eve. And moue in a Court of equity. Mer. For, it is more then manifeſt, that this was 15 A plot o’ your wiues, to get your land. Fit. I thinke it. Eve. Sir it appeares. Mer. Nay, and my coſſen has knowne Theſe gallants in theſe ſhapes. Eve. T’haue don ſtrange things, Sir. One as the Lady, the other as the Squire. Mer. How, a mans honeſty may be fool’d! I thought him 20 A very Lady. Fit. So did I: renounce me elſe. Mer. But this way, Sir, you’ll be reueng’d at height. Eve. Vpon ’hem all. Mer. Yes faith, and ſince your Wife Has runne the way of woman thus, e’en giue her— Fit. Loſt by this hand, to me, dead to all ioyes 25 Of her deare Dottrell, I ſhall neuer pitty her: That could, pitty her ſelfe. Mer. Princely reſolu’d Sir, And like your ſelfe ſtill, in Potentiâ.

Gvilt-head What newes? Fit. O Sir, my hundred peices: Let me ha’ them yet. Fitz-dottrel aſkes for his money. Gvi. Yes Sir, officers Arreſt him. Fit. Me? Ser. I arreſt you. Sle. Keepe the peace, I charge you gentlemen. Fit. Arreſt me? Why? Gvi. For better ſecurity, Sir. My ſonne Plutarchus 5 Aſſures me, y’are not worth a groat. Plv. Pardon me, Father, I said his worſhip had no foote of Land left: And that I’ll iuſtifie, for I writ the deed. Fit. Ha’ you theſe tricks i’ the citty? Gvi. Yes, and more. Arreſt this gallant too, here, at my ſuite. 10 Meaning Mere-craft. Sle. I, and at mine. He owes me for his lodging Two yeere and a quarter. Mer. Why M. Guilt-head, Land-Lord, Thou art not mad, though th’art Constable Puft vp with th’ pride of the place? Do you heare, Sirs. Haue I deſeru’d this from you two? for all 15 My paines at Court, to get you each a patent. Gvi. For what? Mer. Vpo’ my proiect o’ the forkes, Sle. Forkes? what be they? [162] The Project of forks. Mer. The laudable vſe of forkes, Brought into cuſtome here, as they are in Italy, To th’ ſparing o’ Napkins. That, that ſhould haue made 20 Your bellowes goe at the forge, as his at the fornace. I ha’ procur’d it, ha’ the Signet for it, Dealt with the Linnen-drapers, on my priuate, By cause, I fear’d, they were the likelyeſt euer To ſtirre againſt, to croſſe it; for ’twill be 25 A mighty ſauer of Linnen through the kingdome (As that is one o’ my grounds, and to ſpare waſhing) Now, on you two, had I layd all the profits. Guilt-head to haue the making of all thoſe Of gold and ſiluer, for the better perſonages; 30 And you, of thoſe of Steele for the common ſort. And both by Pattent, I had brought you your ſeales in. But now you haue preuented me, and I thanke you. Sledge is brought about. Sle. Sir, I will bayle you, at mine owne ap-perill. Mer. Nay chooſe. Plv. Do you ſo too, good Father. 35 And Guilt-head comes. Gvi. I like the faſhion o’ the proiect, well, The forkes! It may be a lucky one! and is not Intricate, as one would ſay, but fit for Plaine heads, as ours, to deale in. Do you heare Officers, we diſcharge you. Mer. Why this ſhewes 40 A little good nature in you, I confeſſe, But do not tempt your friends thus. Little Guilt-head, Aduiſe your ſire, great Guilt-head from theſe courſes: And, here, to trouble a great man in reuerſion, For a matter o’ fifty on a falſe Alarme, 45 Away, it ſhewes not well. Let him get the pieces And bring ’hem. Yo’ll heare more elſe. Plv. Father.

O Maſter Sledge, are you here? I ha’ been to ſeeke you. You are the Conſtable, they ſay. Here’s one That I do charge with Felony, for the ſuite He weares, Sir. Mer. Who? M. Fitz-Dottrels man? Ware what you do, M. Ambler. Amb. Sir, theſe clothes 5 I’ll ſweare, are mine: and the ſhooes the gentlewomans I told you of: and ha’ him afore a Iuſtice, [163] I will. Pvg. My maſter, Sir, will paſſe his word for me. Amb. O, can you ſpeake to purpoſe now? Fit. Not I, If you be ſuch a one Sir, I will leaue you 10 To your God fathers in Law. Let twelue men worke. Fitz-dottrel diſclaimes him. Png. Do you heare Sir, pray, in priuate. Fit. well, what ſay you? Briefe, for I haue no time to looſe. Pvg. Truth is, Sir, I am the very Diuell, and had leaue To take this body, I am in, to ſerue you; 15 Which was a Cutpurſes, and hang’d this Morning. And it is likewiſe true, I ſtole this ſuite To cloth me with. But Sir let me not goe To priſon for it. I haue hitherto Loſt time, done nothing; ſhowne, indeed, no part 20 O’ my Diuels nature. Now, I will ſo helpe Your malice, ’gainst theſe parties; ſo aduance The buſineſſe, that you haue in hand of witchcraft, And your poſſeſſion, as my ſelfe were in you. Teach you ſuch tricks, to make your belly ſwell, 25 And your eyes turne, to foame, to ſtare, to gnaſh Your teeth together, and to beate your ſelfe, Laugh loud, and faine ſix voices— Fit. Out you Rogue! You moſt infernall counterfeit wretch! Auant! Do you thinke to gull me with your Æſops Fables? 30 Here take him to you, I ha’ no part in him. Pvg. Sir. Fit. Away, I do diſclaime, I will not heare you. And ſends him away. Mer. What ſaid he to you, Sir? Fit. Like a lying raskall Told me he was the Diuel. Mer. How! a good ieſt! Fit. And that he would teach me, ſuch fine diuels tricks 35 For our new reſolution. Eve. O’ pox on him, ’Twas excellent wiſely done, Sir, not to truſt him. Mere-craft giues the instructions to him and the reſt. Mer. Why, if he were the Diuel, we ſha’ not need him, If you’ll be rul’d. Goe throw your ſelfe on a bed, Sir, And faine you ill. Wee’ll not be ſeene wi’ you, 40 Till after, that you haue a fit: and all Confirm’d within. Keepe you with the two Ladies And perſwade them. I’ll to Iuſtice Either-ſide, And poſſeſſe him with all. Traines ſhall ſeeke out Ingine, And they two fill the towne with’t, euery cable 45 Is to be veer’d. We muſt employ out all Our emiſſaries now; Sir, I will ſend you Bladders and Bellowes. Sir, be confident, ’Tis no hard thing t’out doe the Deuill in: A Boy o’ thirteene yeere old made him an Aſſe 50 But t’toher day. Fit. Well, I’ll beginne to practice; And ſcape the imputation of being Cuckold, By mine owne act. Mer. yo’ are right. Eve. Come, you ha’ put Your ſelfe to a ſimple coyle here, and your freinds, [164] By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. 55 Mer. No more o’ that, ſweet couſin. Eve. What had you To doe with this ſame Wittipol, for a Lady? Mer. Queſtion not that: ’tis done. Eve. You had ſome ſtraine ’Boue E-la? Mer. I had indeed. Eve. And, now, you crack for’t. Mer. Do not vpbraid me. Eve. Come, you muſt be told on’t; 60 You are ſo couetous, ſtill, to embrace More then you can, that you looſe all. Mer. ’Tis right. What would you more, then Guilty? Now, your ſuccours.