Had he but trauaile to his time and Vertue—oh hee should neere returne agen.

I can, & indeed a Prince need no trauaile farther then his owne Kingdome, if hee applie himselfe fayth­fullye, worthie the glorie of himselfe and expectation of others: and it would appeare farre nobler industrie in him, to reforme those fashions that are alreadye in his Countrey, then to bring newe ones in, which haue nei­ther true forme nor fashion; to make his Court an Owle, Cittie an Ape, and the Countrey a Wolfe, prey­ing vpon the ridiculous pride of eyther, and therefore I holde it a safer sterne vpon this luckie aduantage, since my father is nere his setting, and I vpon the Easterne hil to take my rise, to look into the heart & bowels of this Dukedome, and in disguise, marke all abuses readie for Reformation or Punishment.

So much haue the complaints and suits of men, seauen, nay seauenteene yeares neglected, stil interposd by coine and great enemies, preuaild with my pittie, that [Page] I cannot otherwise thinke but there are infectious dea­lings in most offices, and foule misteries throughout al Professions: and therefore I nothing doubt but to find trauaile ynough within my selfe, and Experience I fear too much: nor will I be curious to fit my bodie to the humblest forme and bearing, so the labor may be fruit­full: for how can abuses that keepe lowe, come to the right view of a Prince, vnlesse his lookes lie leuell with them, which else will be longest hid from him, hee shall be the last man sees 'em.

When it shall loose your secrets: nor will I onely bee a preseruer of them, but if you so please an assister.

Nothing so: if he be good & wil abide the touch, a Captaine may marrie a Lady, if hee can saile into her good will.

And euerieone so wealthily burdned vpon my manhood.

Pox on't, and now am I tyed ee'n as the Deuil would ha't.

Captaine, of all men liuing I wold ha' sworne thou wouldst nere haue married.

S'foot, so would I my selfe man, giue mee my Due, you know I ha sworne all heauen ouer and ouer:

Of a man that has tasted salt water to commit such a fresh Tricke.

But when there are more women, more common pretty sweete hearts, then euer any age could boast off.

And I to play the Artificer and marrie: to haue my wife daunce at home, and my Ship at Sea, and both take in salt water together: oh Leiftenant thou'rt hap­pie, thou keepst a Wench.

I hope I am happyer then so Captaine, for a my Troth shee keepes me.

How? is there anye such fortunate man brea­thing? and I so miserable to liue honest? I enuie thee Lieutenant, I enuie thee, that thou art such a happye Knaue, heres my hand among you, share it equally, Ile to sea with you.

What lustfull passion came aboord of mee, that [Page] I should marrye, was I drunke? yet that cannot altoge­ther holde, for it was foure a clocke 'ith morning, had it beene fiue, I would ha sworne it: that a man is in danger euerie minute to be cast away, without hee haue an ex­traordinarie Pilot that can performe more then a man can doe: and to say truth too, when 'ime abroad what can I doe at home? no man liuing can reach so farre: & what a horrible thing t'would bee to haue hornes brought me at Sea, to looke as if the Deuill were 'ith ship: and all the greate Tempestes would bee thought of my Raysing, to bee the generall cursse of all Mer­chants: and yet they likely are as deepe in as my selfe, and thats a comfort: O that a Captaine should liue to be marryed! nay, I that haue beene such a Gallant salt-theefe, should yet liue to be marryed: What a fortu­nate Elder Brother is he, whose father being a Ramish Plough-man, himselfe a perfumde Gentleman, spen­ding the labouring reeke from his Fathers: Nosthrils in Tobacco: the sweate of his Fathers bodye in monthlye Phisickc for his pretty quesie Harlot: he sowes a pace 'ith Countrie: the Taylor oretakes him i'th Cittie, so that often times before the Corne comes to Earning, tis vp to the eares in high Collars, and so at euerie haruest the Reapers take paines for the Mercers, ha! why this is stirring happinesse indeede, would my father had held a plow so, and fed vpon squeaz'd Curds and Onions, that I might haue bath'd insensualitie: but hee was too ruttish himselfe to let me thriue vnder him, cansumde me before hee got me, & that makes me so wretched, now to be shackled with a wife, & not greatly rich nei­ther.

What ha's disturb'd you sir, that you now looke so like an Enemie vpon me?

If I knowe, I am a Villaine: what a torments this? why didst thou marry me? you thinke as most of your insatiate Widdowes, that Captaines can doe wonders, when 'lasse the name do's often proue the better man.

That which you vrge, should rather giue me cause to repent then your selfe.

What, my Lord: I must make much of him, heele one day write me Cuckold: tis good to make much of such a man, ee'n to my face, hee plyes it hard I thanke him:—

what, my worthy Lord!

My Lord, the Dukes Sonne is vpon his tra­uaile to seuerall Kingdomes.

May it bee possible my Lord, and yet so little rumord?

Tak't of my Truth, nay, twa's well manag'd, thinges are as they are handled: but all my care is still, pray heauen hee returne safe, without danger Cap­taine.

Thence Captaine comes the feare, but singlie attended neither (my best gladnes) only by your Sonne in Law Fidelio.

Is it to be beleeu'd? I promise you my Lord then I beginne to feare him my selfe, that fellow will vndoe him: I durst vndertake to corrupt him with twelue pence ouer and aboue, and thats a small matter: ha's a whorish Conscience, hee's an inseperable Knaue, and I could neere speake well of that fellow.

All wee of the younger house, I can tell you do doubt him much,—the Ladyes remoou'd, shall we haue your sweete soscietie Captaine?

Though it bee in mine owne house, I desire I may follow your Lordship.

Warne him our house t'were vilde: his presence is an honour, if he lie with our wiues, tis for our credite, wee shall be the better trusted, tis a signe wee shall liue ith world: O Tempests and Whirlewinds (who but that man whom the forefinger cannot daunt, that makes his shame his liuing:) Who but that man I say, could en­dure to be throughly married? Nothing but a diuorce can relieue me: any way to be rid of her would rid my torment: if all meanes faile Ile kil, or poyson her, and purge my fault at sea: but first Ile make gentle Trie of a Diuorce: But how shal I accuse her subtle honestie? Ile attach this Lords comming to her, take hold of that: ask counsell: and now I remember, I haue acquaintance with an olde craftie Client, who by the puzzle of suites & shifting of Courts, has more tricks & starting holes, then the dizzie pates of fifteene Atturneys: one that has beene muzled in Law like a Beare, and lead by the Ring of his spectacles from office to office: him Ile seeke out with haste, all paths Ile tread,

Tis neuer to be grāted: if you come as a friend vnto my honour and my husband, you shall be euer welcome, if not, I must intreate it—

Tis more my griefe my Lord, such as my selfe are iudg'd the worse for such.

Their wenches I meane sir, for your worship I nowes those that are vdder men are beastes.

Who he? as arrant a craftie fellow as ere made wa­ter on horsebacke: some say hee's as good as a Lawyer, (marrie 'ime sure hee's as bad as a Knaue) if you haue a­ny suites in lawe, hee's the fittest man for your compa­nie: ha's beene so▪ toward and lug'd himselfe▪ that hee is able to affoo [...]d you more knauish counsell for tenne groates, then another for ten shillings.

A fine fellowe: but doe you know him to be a Knaue, and will lodge him.

Your worship begins to talke idlely, your bed shall be made presently; if we should not lodge knaues, I wonder how we should bee able to liue honestlye, are there honest men enough thinke you in a Terme time to fill all the Innes in the towne, and as far as I can see▪ a knaues Gelding eats no more hay then an honest mans: nay theeues Gelding eates lesse, ile stād too't, his Maist­er [Page] allowes him a better Ordnarie: yet I haue my eight­pe [...]ce day & night, twere more for our profit I wus, you were all theeues, if you were so contented: I shall bee cald for: giue your worships good morrow.

This shold be some olde busie turbulent fellowe: villanous Law-worme, that eates holes into poore mēs causes.

I giue you leaue sir, you haue your Veniam, now fill me a browne Toste sirha.

Now as you were saying Sir, ile come to you immediately too.

Non declarauit Aduersarius saist thou: what a Villain's that, I haue a tricke to doe thee good: I will get thee out a Proxe, & make him declare with a Poxe to him.

Non ad iudicium, doe you feare corruption? then ile releeue you agaen: you shall get a Supers [...]diae, Non molest andam; and [...] it big her.

Now if it should euer come to a Testificandum, what be his witnesses?

Please you sir to dissolue this into Wine, Ale, or Beere, I come a hundred mile to you I protest, and leaue all other counsell behind me.

Nay you shal alwayes finde me a sound Card, I stoode not ath Pillorie for nothing in eightie eight, all the world knowes that: now let me dispatch you sir; I come to you Presenter.

Has he that knauerie? But has hee put in baile aboue canst tell?

Why then thy best course shall be, to lay out more money, take out a Procedendo, and bring downe the cause and him with a Vengeance.

As for the other partie, let the Audita querela alone, take me out a special Supplicauit, which will cost you inough, and then you pepper him. For the first partie after the Procedendo youle get costs, the cause be­ing sound, youle haue a Iudgement, Nunc pro Tunc, youl get a Venire facies to warne your Iurie, a Decem tales to fill vp the number, and a Capias vt Legatum for your execution.

What a busie Caterpiller's this? let's accost him in that maner.

O my olde admirable fellow, how haue I all this while thirsted to salute thee? I knew thee in Octauo of the Duke.—

Still in Law. I had not breath'd else now, tis verie marrow, verie manna to me to be in law: ide been dead ere this else: I haue found such sweete pleasure in the vexation of others, that I could wish my yeares o­uer and ouer agen, to see that fellow a Begger, that bawling Knaue a Gentleman: a matter brough [...] 'een to a iudgement to day, as far as ere t'was to begin again to morowe: O Raptures I heere a writ of Demur, there a Procedendo, heere a Sui surrara, there a Capiendo, Tricks, Delayes▪ Money-lawes:

I haue beene a Tearme-trotter my selfe anye time this fiue and fortie yeares, a goodly time & a gra­tious: in which space I ha beene at least sixteen times beggard, and got vp agen: and in the mire agen, that I haue stunke agen, and yet got vp agen.

You see it apparantly▪ I cānot hide it frō you: nay more, in foelice hora bee it spoken, you see i'me olde, yet haue I at this present, nine and twentie sutes in Lawe.

A stake puld out of my hedge, theres one: I was well beaten I remember, that's two: I tooke one a bed with my wife agen her will, that's three: I was cal'd cuckold for my labour▪ that's foure: I tooke ano­ther a bed agen, that's fiue thē one cald me wittal that's sixe: he kild my Dog for Barking, sea [...]en: my Maide Seruant was knockt at that time, eight: my wife miscar­ryed [Page] with a push, Nine, & sic de coeteris, I haue so vext and beggerd the whole parish, with processe, Suppoe­neas, and such like molestations, they are not able to spare so much readie mony from a Tearme, as woulde set vp a new Weather-cocke: the Church-wardens are faine to goe to law with the Poores mony.

And I so fetch vp al the men euery Tearm time that tis impossible to be at ciuill cuckoldry, within our selues, vnlesse the whole country rise vpon our wiues.

Nay an excellent stratagem: but of all I most wonder at the continuall substance of thy wit, that ha­uing had so many suits in law from time to time, thou hast still mony to relieue 'em.

Why doe you so much wonder at that? why this is my course: my Mare and I come vp some fiue dayes before a Tearme.

Here I Lodge as you see amongst Innes, and places of most receit—

By which aduantage I diue into Country mens causes, furnish 'em with knauish counsell, little to their profite, buzzing into their Eares, this course, that writ, this office, that Ʋltimum refugium, as you know I haue words enow for the purpose.

Enow a law, no matter for conscience. For which busie and laborious sweating curtesie, they can­not chuse but feede me with mony, by which I main­taine mine owne suits: ho, ho, ho.

Another speciall tricke I haue, no body must [Page] know it, which is, to prefer most of those men to one Atturney whom I affect best, to answere which kind­nesse of mine, he will sweat the better in my cause, and doe them the lesse good, tak't of my worde, I helpt my Atturney to more Clients the last Tearme then he will dispatch all his life time: I did it.

There's a kind of captaine, verie robustiously enquires for you.

For me? a man of warre: a man of law is fit for a man of warre: we haue no leysure to say prayers: wee both kill a Sunday mornings: Ile not be long from your sweete companie.

The Diuorse shall rest then, and the fiue hun­dred crownes shall stand in full force and vertue.

Ile haue him for thee. Why thus am I sought after by all professions; heer's a weather beaten Cap­taine, who not long since newe married to a Ladie wi­dow, would now faine haue sued a Diuorce betweene her and him, but that her honestie is his onely hinde­rance: to be rid of which, he do's determine to turne her into white mony, and there's a Lord his Chapman has bid fiue hundred Crownes for her alreadie.

His wife? I bith masse, he would sell his soule if he knew what Merchant would lay out money vppon't, and some of 'em haue need of one they sweare so fast.

Non audiuisti, didstnere heere of that tricke? why Pistor a Baker sold his wife tother day to a cheese­monger, that made Cake and Cheese: another to a Co­ferer: a third to a common player: why you see tis cō ­mon: nere feare the Captaine, be ha's not so much witte to bee a praesident himselfe: I promisd to furnish him with an odde Scriuener of mine owne▪ to draw the bar­gaine, and sale of his Lady, your horses stand heere Gentleman.

I shall bee busilye plung'd till towards bed time, aboue the chin in profundis.

I by Conscience — To sell his Lady: indeed she was a Beast to marrie him, and so he makes of her, come, ile thorowe now 'ime entred.

Is my sweete Knight comming, are you cer­taine hee's comming?

Certaine for sooth, I am sure I saw him out of [Page] the Barbers shop, ere I would come away.

A Barbers shop, O hee's a trim Knight, would hee venture his body into a Barbers shop, when hee knowes tis as dangerous as a peece of Ireland: O yonder, yonder, hee comes, get you backe agen, and looke you say as I aduiz'de you.

My pleasure welcome: I haue got single, none but you shall accompany mee to the Iustice of peace my Fathers.

Why, is thy Father Iustice of Peace, and I not knowe it?

My father! yfaith sir I, simply tho I stand heere a Cittizens wife: I am a Iustice of Peaces Daughter.

Hee's at thy seruice my sweete Reuenewe, for thy money paide for e'm.

Why then let him run a little before I beseech thee, for a my troth he will discouer vs else.

Hee shall obey thee, before sirrha▪ trudge: but doe you meane to lye at your Fathers all night?

Why should I desire your company else?

S'foot where shall I lye then.

What an idle question's that? why doe you hinke I cannot make roome for you in my Fathers house, as well as in my husbands, th'are both good for nothing else?

A man so resolute in valour as a Woman in de­sire, were an absolute Leader.

May it plese your good worship maister Iustice.

The partie your worship sent for, will by no means be brought to appeare.

Hee will not, then what would you aduize me to doe therein?

Onely to graunt your worships warrant, which is of sufficient force to compell him.

No by my faith: you shall not haue me in that Trap: am I sworne Iustice of Peace, and shall I giue my warrant to fetch a man against his will? why there the peace is Broken, wee must doe all quietly, if hee come hee's wel­come, and as far as I can seeyet, hees a foole to bee absent, I by this golde is hee (which hee gaue me this morning)

Why, but may it please your good wor­shippe.—

I say agen please me and please your selfe, thats my word still.

Sir, the world esteemes it a Common fauour, vpon the Contempt of the partie, the justice to graunt his war­rant.

I, tis so common, tis the worse agen, twere the bet­ter for me twere otherwise.

I protest sir, and this Gentleman can say as much, it lyes vpon my halfe vndooing.

I cannot see yet, that it should be so— I see not a crosse yet.

I beseech your worship showe me your immediate fa­uour, and accept this small trifle but as a remembrance to my succeeding Thankfulnes.

Angels? ile not meddle with them, you giue e'm to my wife not to me.

I, I sir.

But I pray tell mee nowe, did the partie Ʋina Voce, with his owne mouth deliuer that contempt, that [Page] that he would not appeare, or did you but iestint?

And do you thinke it stood with my credite to put vp such an abuse? will he not appeare sayes he? Ile make him appeare with a Vengeance Latronello.

Do's your worship call?

Draw me a strong limbd warrant for the Gen­tleman speedily, he will be bountifull to thee: goe and thanke him within.

I shall know your worship hereafter.

I, I prethee doe. Two Angels one partie, foure another: and I thinke it a great sparke of wisdome and policie (if a man come to me for Iustice) first to knowe his greefes by his fees, which bee light and which bee he [...]ie: he may coūterfet els, & make me do Iustice for nothing: I like not that▪ for when I meane to be iust, let me be paide wel for't: the deed so rare, purges the bribe: how now, what's the newes thou art come so hastily? how fares my Knightly Brother?

Troth he nere farde worse in his life sir: he nere had lesse stomack to his meate since I knew him.

Why sir?

Indeede hee's dead sir.

How sir?

Newly deceasd I can assure your Worship: the Tabacco-pipe new dropt out of his mouth before I tooke horse, a shrewd signe: I knew then there was no way but one with him, the poore pipe was the last man he took leaue off in this world, who sel in three peeces before him, & seem'd to mourne inwardly, for it lookt as blacke'th mouth as my maister.

Would hee die so like a Polititian, & not once write his minde to me?

No Ile say that for him sir: he dyed in the perfect state of memorie, made your worship his ful and whole executor: bequeathing his Daughter, and with her all [Page] his wealth, onely to your disposition.

Did he make such a godly end saist thou? did he die so comfortably, and bequeath all to me?

What a precious ioy and comfort's this, that a Iustices brother can die so wel, nay in such a good and happie memorie, to make me full executor. Wel he was too honest to liue, and that made him die so soone: now I beshrew my heart, I am glad hee's in heauen, has left all his cares and troubles with me, and that great vexa­tion of telling of Money, yet I hope hee had so much grace before he died to turn his white mony into gold, a great ease to his Executor.

Ah my sweete Neece, let me kisse thee, & drop a teare betweene thy lips: one teare from an old man is a great matter, the cockes of age are drie, thou hast lost a vertuous father, to gaine a notable vncle.

Good yfaith, a well spoken Gentleman, y'are not an Esquire sir?

Not sir? more's the pitie: by my faith better men then you are, but a great many worse: you see I haue beene a Scholler in my time, tho I'me a Iustice nowe: Neece y'are most happily welcom, the charge of you is [Page] wholy and soly mine owne: and since you are so for­tunately come Neece, Ile rest a perpetuall widower.

I make my brother (saies he) full and whole Ex­ecutor, honestly done of him yfaith, seldome can a man get such a brother: and here again saies he, very vertu­ously, I bequeath all to him and his disposing: an excel­lent fellow a my troth, would you might all die no worse, Gentlemen.

You'r most soberly welcome sir: daughter y'aue that ye kneele for, rise, salute your weeping coozen.

Eye to weeping is verie proper, and so is the partie that spake it beleeue me, a prettie, fine, slender, streight, delicate knit bodie.

Newes as cold to the heart as an old mans kind­nesse: my vncle dead?

If she marry by your consent, choyce and liking make her dowrie fiue thousand crowns: hum, fiue thou­sand crownes? therefore by my consent shee shall nere marry, I will neither chuse for her, like of it, nor con­sent too't.

Now by the pleasure of my blood a pretty coo­zen: I would not care, if I were as nere kin to her, as I haue beene to her kinswoman.

Is he but a knight? troth, I would a sworne had beene a Gentleman, to see, to see, to see.

I can assure you father, my husband and hee has laine both in one bellie.

Ile swear then he is his brother indeed, & by the surer side: I craue heartie pardon sweete kinsman that thou hast stood so long vnsaluted in the way of kinred.

Keyes of my Chests and Chambers.— I haue stable for thy horse, chamber for thy selfe, and a loft abou for thy lowzie lackie, all fit, away with handkirchers, drie vp eies, at funeral we must cry: now let's be wise.

Feare not me Fidelio: become you that inuisible Rope-maker the Scriuener, that binds a mā as he walks yet all his ioynts at libertie, aswell as ile fit that com­mon folly of Gentry, the easie-affecting venturer, and no doubt our purpose will arriue most happily.

Chast dutie my Lord works powerfully in mee, and rather then the poore Ladie my mother should fall vpon the common side of rumour to begger her name, I would not only vndergoe all habits, offices, disguiz'd professions, tho ee'n opposite to the temper my blood holds: but in the stainlesse quarrell of her reputation, alter my shape for euer.

I loue thee wealthier, thou hast a noble touch, & by this means which is the only safe means to preserve [Page] thy mother from such an vgly land and sea monster as a counterfeit Captain is, he resigning and basely selling all his estate, title, right, and interest in his Ladie, as the forme of the writing shall testifie.

I am in debt my life, to the free goodnes of your inuentions.

Hence, we're at a price for thee, at a price, wants but the telling, and the sealing, then —

Haue you no sence, neither of my good name or your owne credit?

Credit? pox of credit, that makes me owe so much: it had bine better for me by a thousand Royals I had lost my credite, seauen yeare ago, t'as vndone me, that's it that makes me flie: what neede I to sea else, in the Spring time, when Woods haue leaues, to looke vpon balde Oake.

Oh why do you so wilfully cherrish your own poyson? and breath against the best of life, chast credit.

No, ile sell thee then to the Smocke: see heere comes my honourable Chapman.

Fine shee pollicie? she makes my backe her Bol­ster, but before my face, she not indures him, Tricks.

Captaine, how haps it she remou'd so strangely?

Oh for Modesties cause awhile my Lord: shee must restraine her selfe, shee's not yours yet:

Easie before my sight, fah, wherefore serues modestie but to pleasure a Lady now and then, and help her from sus­spect, that's the best vse tis put too.

And make what hast I can to my ship, I durst wa­ger you'l be vnder saile before me.

I, a verie pleasant voyage as can be: I see the houre is Ripe, heere comes the Prisons Bawde the bond-maker, one that bindes heires before they are begot.

I haue a certaine generous itch sir, to loose a fewe An­gels in the way of profit: tis but a game at Tennis,

Is your venture three hundred? y'are verie pre­tiously welcome: heere's a voyage towarde will make vs all.—

Beggerly fooles, and swarming knaues.

Feare him not my Lord, hee's a Gull', hee ven­tures with me, some filthy Farmers sonne, the father's a Iew, and the sonne a Gentleman:pha.—

Yet he should be a Iew too, for he is new come from giuing ouer swine.

To all good and honest Christian people, to whō this present writing shal come: know you for a certain, that I Captaine, for and in the consideration of the sum of fiue hundred crownes, haue clearly bargained, solde, giuen, graunted, assigned and set ouer, and by these pre­sents doe cleerly bargaine, sell, giue, graunt, assigne and set ouer, al the right, estate, title, interest, demaund, pos­session, and tearme of yeares to come, which I the saide Captaine haue, or ought to haue.—

In and to Madona Castiza, my most vertuous, [Page] modest, louing, and obedient wife.—

Togither, with all and singular those admirable qualities with which her noble brest is furnisht.

Well said Scriuener, hast put'em all in: you shal heare now my L.

Excellent in the best of Musicke, in voice deli­cious: in conference wise and pleasing: of age content­ful: neither too yōg to be a pish, nor too old to be sottish

You haue bought as louely a penny-woorth my Lord, as ere you bought in your life.

And which is the best, of a wife a most comfor­table sweete companion.

I could not affoord her so y faith, but that I am-going to sea and haue need of money.

I read as the words moue me: yet if that be a faul it shall be seen no more,—which said Madona Casti [...]a lying, & yet being in the occupatiō of the said captain

Ninteene—occupation? Pox out, out with oc­cupation, a Captaine is of no occupation, man.

Now I come to the Habendum, to haue and to holde, vse and—

And to be acquited of and from all former bar­gaines, former sales:

Former sailes, nine & twenty thirty, by my troth [Page] my Lord, this is the first time that euer I solde her.

And furdermore (I the said) of and for the consi­deration of the somme of fiue hundred Crownes to set me a boord before these presents vtterly disclaime for euer, any Title, estate, right, interest, demaund, or posses­sion, in or to the said Madona Castiza, my late vertuous, and vnfortunate wife.

As also neither to touch, attempt, molest, or in­cumber any parte, or partes whatsoeuer: either to bee namde or not to be namde: eyther hidden or vnhid­den, eyther those that boldly looke abroad, or those that dare not show their face.

Faces: I knowe what you meane by faces: Scriuener, there's a great figure in faces.

In witnesse wherof, I the said Captaine haue in­terchangeably set to my hand and seale: in presence of all these, the day and date aboue written.

Verie good sir, Ile bee ready for you presently, foure hundred and twentie. 1.2.3.4.5.—

I saide how you should finde it Captaine, and with this competent summe you rest amplye conten­ted.

S'foote doost take me to be a pen-man? I protest I could nere write more then A, B, C, those three letters in my life.

Would you haue got furder then A B C? ah Base Captaine, that's far ynough yfaith.

Hee? he shall, prethe come and set thy hand for witnesse Rogue, thou shall venture with me?

Nay, then I ha reason Captaine that com­maunds me?

What a faire fist the pretty whorsone writes, as if he had had manners and bringing vp, a farmers Sonne: his Father dam's himselfe to sell mustie Corne, while hee ventures the Money, twill prosper well at Sea no doubt he shall nere see't agein

So my Lord, you haue her, clip her, enioy her, shee's your owne, and let me be proud to tell you now my Lord, shee's as good a soule if a man had a minde to liue honest, and keepe a wench, the Kindest, sweetest, comfortablest Rogue.—

There thou comst to me, why he should be so, [Page] and men of your quill are not vnacquainted.

Indeed al our chiefe liuing my Lord, is by fooles and knaues, we could not keepe open shop else▪ Fooles that enter into bonds, and Knaues that binde e'm.

And as my memorie happily leades me: I know a fellowe of a standing estate, neuer flowing: I durst conuey treason into his bosome,

Stranger yet? ile chuse some other hower to list­en to thee, I am yet sicke of this, discouer quickly.

Nay, you shall to sea, thou wouldst poyson the whole land else—why how now Captaine?

I, or your Sonne in Law, Fidelio knowes of the sale of his mother.

What and they did, I sell none but mine owne: as for the Duke, hee's abroad by this time, and for Fide­lio hee's in labour.

That's true:— but let me tell you Captain: whether the Duke heare on't, or Fidelio know on't: or both, or neither, twa's a moste filthie loathsome part.

Too slight a recōpence, for your great wrong, but that [Page] his riddance helpes it.

I doe beseech your good Lordship consider the state of a poore downe-cast Captaine.

Captaine, off with that noble title thou becomst it vildely, I nere saw the name fit worse, ile sooner al­lowe a Pandar a Captaine then thee.

I do beseech your Ladiship not so much for par­don, as to bestow a few of those Crownes vpon a poore vnfethered Rouer that will as truely pray for you, and wish you hangd, as any man breathing.

Why this is but the second time of your com­ming Kinsman, visit me oftner, Daughter, I charge you bring this Gentleman along with you: Gentleman, I I crie yee mercy sir, I call you Gentleman still: I for­get y'are but a Knight, you must pardon me sir.

For your worships kindenes—worship I crie you mercie sir, I call you worshipfull still, I forget, y'are but a Iustice.

Tis quickly done sir, you see I make bould with you Kinsman, thrust my Daughter and you into one Chamber.

True, true sir, Daughter receiue your blessing— take heed the Coach iopper not to much▪ haue a care to the fruits of your bodye—looke to her Kinsman.

Nay Father though I say it, that should not say it, hee lookes to me more like a husband then a Kins­man.

Y'are welcome all ouer your body sir: nay, I can behaue my selfe courtly, though I keepe house 'ith Countrie: what, does my Neece hide herselfe, not pre­sent, ha? Latronello.

A foolish, coy, bashfull thing it is, shee's afraid [Page] to lie with her owne Vncle: ide do her no harme yfaith, I keepe my selfe a widdower a purpose, yet the foolish Girle will not looke into't, shee should haue all y­faith, shee knowes I haue but a time, cannot holde long, see where she comes, pray whome am I Neece?

Oh am I so, it do's not appeare so,—for surely you would loue your Fathers Brother for your Fathers sake, your Vncle for your owne sake.

Nay you doe nothing Neece.

Do you thinke your Fathers fiue thousand pound wold ha made me take you else? no, you should neere a ha beene a charge to me.

I'ue as much neede to marrie as ere I had: would not this be a greate griefe to your friendes thinke you, if they were aliue agen?

And what's a Husband is not a Husband a strāger at first, and wil you lye with a stranger before [Page] you lie with your owne Vncle? take heede what yee doe Neece, I counsell you for the best: strangers are drunken fellowes I can tell you, they will come home late a nights, beate their wiues, and get nothing but Girles: look too't, if you marry, your stubbernes is your Dowrie: fiue thousand Crownes were bequeathed to you, true, if you marry with my consent: but if ere you goe to marrying by my consent, ile goe to hanging by your's: goe too▪ be wise and loue your Vncle.

Why now you come to mee Neece: if your Vn­cle be part of your owne flesh and blood, is it not then fit your owne flesh and bloud should come neerest to you? answere me to that Neece.

Very good, a my troth my Neece is Valiant, sha's made me ritcher by fiue thousand Crownes, the price of her Dowrie: are you so honest, I doe not feare but I shall haue the Conscience to keepe you poore y­nough Neece, or else I am quite altered a late—The Newes, may it please you sir?

Sir, theres an olde fellowe, a kinde of Law-driuer, entreates conference with your worship.

A Law-driuer, prethee driue him hither.

No, no I say if it bee for defect of Apparance, take me out a speciall Significauit.

Then if he purchase an Alias or Capias, which are Writs of custome, onely to delay time, your Proce­dendo do's you Knights seruice—that's nothing at all, get your Distringas out as soone as you can for a Iurie.

My old master of Fence: come, come, come, I haue not exerciz'd this twelue Moones, I haue almost forgot all my Law-weapons.

They are vnder fine and Recouerie, your wor­ship shall easily recouer them.

The Rapler and Dagger foyles instantly: and whats thy suite to mee olde Tangle, ile graunt it pre­sently.

Nothing but this sir, to set your worships hand to the commendation of a Knaue whome no bodye speakes well on.

What, what! alasse poore Knaue, giue me the Pa­per, he did but saue the Churchwardens a labour: come, come, he has done a better deed in't then the parish is a aware off, to preuent the Knaues, hee robs but seldome, they once a quarter: me thinks twere a part of good iust­ice, to hang e'm at yeares end, wen they come out of [Page] their office, to the true terrifying of all Collectors and Sidemen.

Your worship would make a fruitefull Com­mon-wealths man, the Constable lets e'm alone, looks on, and sayes nothing.

A lasse good man, he lets e'm alone for quietnes sake, and takes halfe a share with e'm: they know wel enough too, he ha's an impediment in his tongue, hee's alwaies drunke when he should speake.

Indeede your worship speakes true in that sir: they blinde him with beere, and make him so narrowe eyde, that he wincks naturallye at all their Knaueries,

Nay, if it be but a Vestrie matter, visit me at anye time, olde Signeor Law-thistle! O well done, heere are the Foiles, come, come sir, ile trie a Law-bout with you.

I am affraide I shall ouerthrowe you sir yfaith.

Tis but for want of vse then sir.

Indeed that same odde word Vse, makes a man a good Lawyer, and a woman an arrant—tuh tuh, tuh, tuh, tuh, now am I for you sir: but first to bring you into forme, can your worship name all your weapons?

That I can I hope, let me see, Longswoord, what's Longsword? I am so duld with dooing justice, that I haue forgot all yfaith.

Masse that swords long enough indeede, I ha knowne it reach the length of fifteene Tearmes.

Thou art come to our present weapon, but what call you sword and Buckler then?

Oh! that's out of vse now, sword and Buckler was cal'd a good conscience, but that weapons left long agoe, that was too manly a fight, too sound a weapon for these our daies, sl'id wee are scarce able to lift vp a Buckler now, our armes are so bound to the Poxe: one good bang vppon a Buckler would make moste of our Gentlemen flye a peeces, tis not for these lintie times, our Lawyers are good Rapyer and Dagger men, theile quickly dispatch your—money.

Indeede since sword and buckler time, I haue obseru'd, there ha's beene nothing so much fighting: where bee all our gallant Swaggerers? there are no good frayes alate.

Oh sir, the properties altred, you shall see lesse fighting euerie day then other, for euerie one gets him a Mistris, and she giues him woundes enowe, and you knowe, the Surgeons cannot beehere and there too, if there were red woundes too, what wold become of the Reinish woundes?

Thou saist true yfaith, they would bee but il fa­vouredly lookt to then.

I lye in this court for you sir, my Rapyer is my Atturney, and my Dagger his Clarke.

Your Atturney wants a little oyling, me thinkes, he lookes very Rustily.

Tis but his proper colour sir, his Father was an Iremonger, he will nere look brighter, the rust ha's so eat into him, ha's neuer any leasure to be made cleane.

Then Ioue will not be at leysure to scoure him, because he [...]ere came to him before.

Y'are excellent at it sir—and now you least thinke on't, I arrest you sir.

Nay very bad sir by my faith—I followe you still, as the Officers wil followe you as long as you haue a penny.

You speake sentences sir—by this time haue I tryed my friendes, and now I thrust in baile—

This baile will not be taken sir, they must be two Cittizens that are no Cuckolds.

Berlady then 'ime like to lye by it, I had rather twere a hundred that were.

Tis Court day now, Declarat Atturnatus, my Atturney gapes for money.

I like not this Court birlady—I: take me out a writ of Remoue, a writ of Remoue, doe you see sir?

There you started me sir—yet for all your Demurres, Plures, and Sursurarers, which are all Long­swords: that's Delaies: al the comfort is, in nine yeares a man may ouerthrowe you.

Let nine yeares passe, fiue hundred crownes cast away a both sides, and the suite not twentie, my Counsellors wife must haue another hood you knowe, and my Atturneyes wife wil haue a new forepart, yet [Page] see at length law, I shal haue law: now beware, I bring you to a narrowe exigent, and by no meanes can you auoide the Proclamation—

Now followes a writ of execution, a Capias, vt Legatum, giues you a wound mortall, trippes vp your heeles, and layes you ith Counter.

I crie your worship heartily mercie sir, I thought we had beene in Lawe together, Aduersarius contra aduersarium by my troth.

Oh! reach me thy hand, I nere had such an o­uerthrowe in my life.

Twa's long of your Atturney there, hee might a staide the execution of Capias vt Legatum, and re­mou'd you with a Supersedeas non molestandum into the Court of Equitie.

And now by'th masse I thinke I shal hardly recouer without cost.

Nay, that's Certoscio, an execution is very chargeable.

Well, it shall teach mee witte as long as I am a Iustice: I perceiue by this tryall, if a man haue a sound fall in Law, hee shall feele it in his bones all his life after.

Nay, that's Recto vpon Record, for I my selfe was ouerthrowne in eighty eight by a Taylor, and I haue had a Stitch in my side euer since, oh!

Why Latronello, Furtiuo, Fucato, where be these lazie knaues that should trusse me, not one stirring yet?

Followe, followe, followe.

Hark you sluggish Soporiferous villaines, ther's knaues abroad when you are a bed, are ye not a sham'd on't, a Iustices men should be vp first, and giue example all knaues.

Theeues, my two hand sword, ime rob'd 'ith Hal, Latronello, Knaues, come down, my two hand sword I

We forget our beards, now I beseech your wor­ship quickly remember vs.

Foure marke and a Liuerie is not able to keepe life and soule together, wee must flye out once a quar­te, tis for your worships credit to haue moneye in our pursse, our Fellow Furtiuo is taken in the Action.

They bring him along to your worship, your the next Iustice, now or neuer show your selfe a good mai­ster, an vpright Magistrate, and deliuer him out of their hands.

Nay, he shal finde me—apt enough to doe him good I warrant him.

S'foot what, should hee doe here else? there's no comming to me in a true on: if he had one,—the slaue to be taken: doe not I keepe Geldings swift enough?

The goodlyest Geldings of any Gentleman in the shire.

Which did the whorson knaue ride vpon?

Vpon Stand and Deliuer: the verie Gelding I chuse for mine owne riding, as nimble as Pegasus the flying horse yonder: goe shift your selues into your coates, bring hither a great chaire, and a little table.

Ile drawe a few horse heades in a paper, make a shew: I hope I shall keepe my countenence.

Pox on him agen, would he be taken? hee frets me: I haue beene a youth my selfe, I ha seene the day I could haue told money out of other mens purses (Masse so I can doe now) nor will I keepe that fellow about me that dares not bid a man stand: for as long as drunken­nesse is a vice, stand is a vertue: but I would not haue 'em taken. I remember now betimes in a morning I would haue peept through the greene boughs, & haue had the partie presently, and then to ride away sinelye in feare, twas e'en Venerie to me yfaith, the pleasantst course of life, one would thinke euery Woodcok a Con­stable, and euery Owle an officer, but those dayes are past with mee: and a my troth I thinke I am a greater theefe now, and in no danger: I can take my ease, sit in my Chaire, look in your faces now, and rob you, make you bring your money by authoritie put off your hat, and thanke me for robbing of you, O there is nothing to a theefe vnder Couert Barne.

Nay, I see thee through thy false beard, thou mid-winde chinde Rascall,

Your worship knowes, I neuer come but I bring a theefe with me.

Sir, we vnderstand you to be the onely vp right­nes of this place.

Such another word, and you shal change places with the Theefe.

This Gentleman and my selfe, being led hea­ther by occasion of businesse, haue beene offered the discurtesie of the Country, set vppon by three theeues and rob'd.

They both made away from vs, the crie pursues e'm, but as yet none but this taken.

By my troth a prettie phrase and verye [Page] cleanly handled, put it downe Latronello: thou mayst make vse on't. Is hee of honour or worship whom thou seruest?

Of both deere sir, honourable in minde, and wor­shipfull in bodie.

Say you so sir, then weele trie him farther, — Do's your right worshipfull maister, goe before you, as an ensample of Vice, and so encourage you to this slin­king iniquitie? hee is not a Lawer, is he?

Ha's the more wrong sir, both for his conscience, and honestie, he deserues to be one.

I, if he were not as he is, hee would be better then himselfe.

No tis well knowne sir, I haue a maister, the ve­rie picture of wisdome,

I like him for one qualitie, hee speakes well of his maister, he will fare the better:—Now sir, let mee touch you,

Why, seruing a Gentleman of such worship and wisdome, such sobrietie and vertue, such discretion and iudgement as your master is, doe you take such a beastly [Page] course, to stop horses, hinder Gentlewomen from their meetings, and make Citizens neuer ride but a Sundaies, onely to auoyd Morning praier and you: is it because your worshipfull Ma. feeds you with leane spits, paies you with Irish mony, or clothes you in northern dozēs?

Farre be it from his mind, or my report, Tis well knowne he kept worshipful cheer the day of his wiues burial, payes our foure marks a yeare as duly by twelue pence a quarter as can be.

Receiuing then such plenteous blessings from your vertuous and bountiful master, what cause haue you to be theefe now? answer me to that geere:

For alas, if the whole worlde were but of one trade; traffique were nothing: if wee were all true­men, wee should bee of no trade: what a pittifull world would heere bee, heauen forbid we should bee all true­men: then howe should your worships next suite bee made? not a Tayler left in the lande: of what stuffe would you haue it made? not a Merchant left to deli­uer it, would your worship goe in that sute still? You would ha more theeues about you then those you haue banisht, and be glad to call the great ones home agen, to destroy the little.

A my troth, a fine knaue, & ha's answered me glo­riously, what wages wilt thou take after thou art hāg'd?

More then your worship's able to giue, I would thinke foule scorne to be a Iustice then.

He sayes true too yfayth, for we are all full of cor­ruption here,—hearke you my friends.

By my troth if you were no crueller then I, I could find in my hart to let him goe.

Nay I did but to trie you, if you haue no pittie, Ile ha none, away hee's a Theefe, to prison with him.

Are you content, bring him backe, nay then you shall not goe.

Ile be as cruel as you can wish: y'are content, be­like you haue a tricke to breake prison, or a bribe for the Officers.

For you sir? what colour's siluer I pray, you nere saw mony in your life:—Ile not trust you with him, La­tronello and Fucato, lay hold vpon him, to your charge I commit him.

You desire that▪—Ile trust no prison with you, Ile make you lye in mine own house, or Ile know why I shal not.

You shall be hang'd out a'th way, away with him Latronello, and Fucato,—Officers I discharge you my house, I like not your companie.

Then I hope few will suffer,—nay all the iest was, hee committed him to the charge of his fellowes, and the rogue made it lamentable, cryed to leaue'em.

Ladie, that worde is worth an hundred Angels at all times, for it cost more: if I liue til tomorrow night, my sweete pleasure thou shalt haue them.

Come ee'n much about this time, when Ta­uerns giue vp their Ghosts, and Gentlemen are in their first cast.—

And doe but whirle the Ring a'th doore once a­bout, [Page] my maid-seruant shal be taught to vnderstand the language.

Lying, or being in the said Countie in the Te­nor and occupation aforesaide.

No more then, a writ of course vpon the mat­ter of—

Oh o-o-o-yes Carlo Turbulenzo, appeare or loose twentie marke in the suites.

Ha? whether haue my thoughts conueyed me? I am now within the Dizzie murmur of the law.

So that then, the cause being found cleere, vpon the last Scitation.

Now, now, now, now, now, vpon my knees I praise Mercury the God of law, I haue two suits at issue, two suites at issue.

Beseech not me, beseech not me, I am a mortall man, a Clyent as you are, beseech not me.

I would doe all by your worships direction.

Mad me not, torment me not, teare me not, youle giue me leaue to heare mine own cause, mine owne cause

Nay moreouer, and farder—

All the opprobious speeches that man could in­uent all malicious inuectiues, called Wittoll to his face.

Thats I, thats I, thank you my learned counsell for your good remembrance: I hope I shall ouerthrowe him horse and foote.

No more sir, he that brings me happy newes first ile releeue first.

I, I, I, pray so still, pray so still, theile thriue the better

Prethee I will not knowe thee nowe, tis a busie time, a busie time with me.

Oh crie thee mercie, giue me thy hande,—fare thee well,—ha's no reliefe agen mee then,—his demurs will not help him, his Sursararaes wil but play the knaues with him.

The Iustice: tis hee

Haue I found thee yfaith? I thought where I should smell thee out old Tangle.

What old Signeur Iusticer,—embrace me another time and you can possible: how do's all thy wiues chil­dren,—well? that's well said yfayth.

Sirrah, I ha brought him to an Exigent▪ hark that's my cause, thats my cause yōder, I twind'g him, I twind'g him.

My Neece is stolne away.

Ah, get mee a ne exeat Regno quickly, nay you must not stay vppo'nt, ide faine haue you gone.

Thou that hast found such sweete pleasure in [Page] the vexation of others.

Heare me, doe but heare me, I pronounce a terrible, horrible cursse vpon you al—and wish you to my Atturney: see where a Praemunire comes a Dedimus potestatem, and that moste Dreadful Execution, Excom­municato Capiendo, there's no baile to be taken, I shal rot in fifteene Iayles: make Dice of my bones, and let my Counsellors Sonne play away his Fathers money with e'm; may my bones reuenge my quarrell!— A Capias Cominus? heere, heere, heere, heere: quicklye dip your Quilles in my blood, off with my skin and write four­teen lines of a side—there's an honest conscionable fellowe, he takes but ten shillinges of a Bellowes-men­der—heere's another deales all with charitie, you shall giue him nothing, onely his wife an embrodered Petty­coate, a golde frindge for her taile, or a border for her head, ah sirrha! you shall catch mee no more in the sprindge of your Knaueries.

Follow, follow him still, a little thing now sets him forward.

Mad, why he is in his right wits, could he be mad­der then he was, if he be any way altered from what hee was, tis for the better, my Lord.

Tis comming my Lord: A man so truely a man, so indifferently a creature, vsing the world in his right nature but to tread vppon, one that would not bruse, the cowardly est enemy to man, the worme, that dares not show his malice till we are dead: nay my Lord, you will admire his temper! see where he comes, I promisd your acquaintance, sir

Hee's not worth pittying, for twa's stil his glad­nes to be at variance.

O Maister, Maister, your abhominable next neighbor came into the house, being halfe in drink, and tooke away your best Carpet.

Alasse sir:

Let him goe, trouble him not, lock the doore qui­etly after him, and haue a safer care who comes in next.

But sir, might I aduize you, in such a cause as this, a man might bouldlye, nay▪ with conscience goe to Law.

Oh, ile giue him the table too first. Better indure a fist then a sharpe sword: I had rather they should pull off my cloathes then flea of my skin, and hang that on mine enemies hedge.

Oh, y'are come as well as ere you came in your life, my Maister's new gone to bed, giue me your Knightly hand, I must leade you into the blind Parlor, my mistris will be downe to you presentlye.

I tell you our safest course will bee to arrest him when hee comes out a'th Tauerne: for then he will bee halfe drunke, and will not stand vppon his weapon.

That he will, though he put it vp agen, which is more of his courtesie, then of our deseruing.

Here sir, now you are there sir, sheele come downe to you instantlye, I must not stay with you, my Mistris would be iealous, you must doe nothing to me, my mistris would finde it quickly.

S'foot whether am I led? brought in byth hand? I hope it can bee no harme to stay for a woman, tho in­deede they were neuer more dangerous, I haue ventu­red heatherto and safe, and I must venture to stay now, this should be a faire Rome, but I see it not, the blinde Parlor cal's shee it?

Now out vpon the Marmoset, hast thou seru'd me so long, and offer to bring in a Candle?

Faire Roome, villanous face, and worse woman, I ha learnt something by a glimpse ath Candle:

How hapned it you came so soone, I lookt not for you these two howers: yet as the sweete chance is, you came as well as a thing coulde come, for my hus: band's newly brought a bed.

Hee nere sent him any thing since I knewe him, hee's a man of a bad nature to his wife, none but his Maides can thriue vnder him.

I, iudge whether I haue a cause to be a Curtezan or no? to doe as I doe, an elderly fellow as hee is, if hee were marryed to a young Virgin, hee were able to breake her heart, tho he could breake nothing else: here, here, there's iust a hundred and fiftie, but I stole e'm so hardlye from him, twold ee'ne haue grieud you to haue seene it.

Therefore prethee my sweete pleasure, doe not keepe company so much, how doe you thinke I am a­ble to maintaine you? though I bee a Iewellers wife, Iewells are like women, they rise & fal, we must be con­tent to loose sometimes, to gaine often, but you'r content alwaies to loose, and neuer to gaine: what need you ride with a Footeman before you?

The grace? tis sufficient grace that y'aue a Horse to ride vpon, you should thinke thus with your selfe e­uery time you goe to bed if my head were laide, what would become of that horse? he would runne a bad race then as well as his Maister.

No, if it were as much more, I would thinke it foule scorne to chide you, I aduise you to be thrifty, to take the time now, while you haue it, you shall sildome get such an other foole as I am, I warrant you: why there's Mettrezza Auriola keepes her loue with halfe the cost that I am at, her friend can goe a foote like a good Husband, walke in wosted Stockings, and enquire for the Six-penny ordinarie.

No, I would not haue you so base neither: but now and then, when you keep your Chamber, you might let your Footeman out for eighteen pence a day, a great releefe at yeares end I can tell you.

You made me beleeue at first the Prince had you in great estimation, and would not offer to Trauaile without you, nay, that he could not trauaile without your Direction and intelligence.

I'me sorrie I saide so yfaith, but sure I was ouer­flowen when I spoke it, I could nere ha saide it else.

Nay more, you swore to me, that you were the first that taught him to ride a greate horse, and tread the Ring with agilitie.

By my troth I must needes confesse I swore a great lye in that, & I was a villain to doe it, for I could nere ride greate horse in my life.

Why loe, who would loue you now but a Citti­zens wife? so inconstant, so for sworne: you say women are false Creatures, but take away men, and thei'd bee honester then you—Nay last of all, which offends me moste of all, you tolde me you covld countenance me at Court, and you knowe wee esteeme a friend there, more [Page] worth then a Husband heere.

Oh take heede, you cannot haue that, tis alwaies in the eye of my husband.

I protest I will not keepe it, but onely vse it for th is vertue, as a token to fetch you,& approue my pow­er, where you shall not onely ye bee receiued, but made knowne to the best and chiefest.

That's your word indeede, and vppon that con­dition take it this kisse and my loue for euer.

Adue, farwell, to bed you, I to my sweete Citty­bird, my precious Reuennew, the verie thought of a hundred & fiftie Angels, encreases Oyle and Spirit, ho:

You haue made vs wayte a goodly time for you, haue you not thinke you? you are in your Rowses & Mulwines a poxe on you: and haue no care of poore Officers staying for you.

I drunk but one health I protest, but I could void it now: at whose sute I pra'y?

Argo, nay, we haue bene Schollars I can tell you, wee could not haue beene knaues so soone else, for as in that notable Cittie cald London, stand two most famous Vniuersities, Poultrie and Woodstreet, where some are of [Page] twentie yeares standing, and haue tooke all their de­grees from the Maisters side, downe to the Mistris side, the Hole, so in like manner—

Come, come, come, I had quite forgot the hun­dred and fiftie Angells.

A notable Lad, and worthy to be arrested: weele haue but ten for wayting, and then thou shalt chuse whether thou wilt runne away from vs, or wee from thee.

Why? you shall see, you should haue but whirld the ring once about, and there's a Maid seruant brought vp to vnderstand it.

Her Pleasure? my mistris scornes to be without her pleasure at this time of night: is shee so voide of friendes thinke you? take that for thinking so: a Boxe

The hundred and fifty Angells are lockt vp in a Boxe, we shall not see e'm tonight.

Howe's this? am I vsde like a hundred pound [Page] Gentleman? Do's my Reuennew forsake me? Dam me if euer I bee her pleasure agen.— Well I must to prison.

Goe prepare his roome, there's no remedie, ile bring him along, hee's tame enough now.

And that's a question, Masse here he goes, hee shall not goe to prison, I haue a tricke shall baile him— away.

Who the Diuell are you? let goe, — a Poxe on you, who are you? I haue lost my prisoner.

Prisoner: I'ue mistooke, I crie you hear­tily mercie, I haue done you infinite iniurie, a my troth I tooke you to be an honest man.

Where were your eyes? could you not see I was an Officer, stop, stop, stop, stop.

Bould heedlesse slaue, that dares attempt a deede which shall in peeces rend him my Lords both.

I have got such a large portion of knowledge, most worthy father, by the benefit of my Trauaile,

Proditors insolent Treason, who has irreligiouslye se­duc'd a fellow, and closely conuaide him ee'n in the pre­sence-chaire to murder you:

Against Lussurioso and Infesto, who not onelye moste ryotouslye consume their houses in vicious ga­ming, morgaging their liuings to the Merchant, wher­by he with his heires enter vppon their lands, from whence this abuse comes, that in short time the Sonne of the Marchant has more Lordships then the Sonne of the Nobleman(which else was neuer borne to inheri­tance) but that which is more impious, they most adul­terously traine out young Ladyes to Mid-night ban­quets, to the vtter defamation of their owne honors, & ridiculous abuse of their Husbands.

Who hauing had the honest charge of his Neece committed to his trust, by the last will and Test­ament of her deceased father, and with her all the pow­er of his wealth, not onely against faith and conscience detaines her Dowrie, but against Nature and humanity assaies to abuse her body.

Sildome comes a worse—and moreouer not containde in this vice onelye, which is odious to much, but against the sacred vse of Iustice, maintaines three threeues to his men.

Who onely take Pursses in their Maisters liber­tie, where if any one chance to be taken, he appeares be­fore him in a false Beard, and owne of his owne fellows takes his examination.

And in the end will execute Iustice so cruellye vpon him, that hee will not trust him in a prison, but [Page] commit him to his fellowes chamber.

Can a man doe nothing i'the Countrey but tis told at Court? there's some busie informing knaue a­broad, a my life.

Away, thy curse is idle, the rest are vnder refor­mation, and therefore vnder pardon.

Our duties shall turne edge vpon our crimes.

S'lid I was afraid of nothing, but that for my thee­uerie, and bawderie I should haue beene turnd to an In­keeper: my daughter, I am asham'd her worship should see mee.

Who would not loue a friend at Court? what fine Galleries and roomes am I brought through? I had thoght my knight durst not haue shown his face here, I.

Now mother of pride, and daughter of lust, which is your friend now?

I'me sure you are not so vnprouided to be with­out a friend here, you'le pay enough for him first.

Your worship is to great for me to know: I'me but a small timbred-woman when I'me out of my apparell, and dare not venture vpon greatnes.

That purse? O death has the Knight seru'd me so? giuen away my Fauours?

Tis long of those, an't like your grace, that come in vpon vs, & wil neuer leaue marrying of our widdows till they make 'em all as free as their first husbands.

Let me haue pardon I beseech your grace, and Ile peach 'em all, all the close women that are, and vpon my knowledge there's aboue fiue thousand within the walls and the liberties.

A band▪ they shall be sent against the Turke, Infidels against Infidels.

I will hereafter liue so modestly, I will not lie with mine owne husband, nor come neere a man in the way of honestie.

S'foot, worse then I was before I kneeld, I am no Iustice now, I know I shall be some Inne-keeper at last.

Her birth was kin to mine, she may proue mo­dest, for my sake I beseech you pardon her.

Your Mittimus shall not serue, Ile set my selfe free with a Deliberandum, with a Deliberandum, marke you:

A iudgement, I craue a iudgement, yea! Nunc pro tunc, Corruptione alicuius, I peept me a Rauen in the face, and I thought it had beene my Solister: oh the pens pricke me.

Awa, yile haue none ont, giue me an Audita que­rela, or a Testificandum, or a dispatch in twelue Tearms, there's a blessing, there's a blessing.

Tis the foule fiend my Lord ha's got within him the rest are faire to this, this breeds in Inke,

Ah hah I reioice then hee's puzled▪ & muzled too Ist come to a Soepe corpus?

Oh doe you sluce the Veyne now?

Oh an extent, a Proclamation, a Summons, a Re­cognisance, a Tachment. and Iniunction, a Writ, a Seysure, a Writ of praeisement, an Absolution, a Quietus est.

Tis the diseases Nature, the Fiends drinke.

Oh sicke, sick, Signior Ply-fee, sicke: lend me thy Nightcap, oh!

I haue a Conscience now, Truth in my words, Compas­sion in my hart, & aboue al, in my blood peaces musick,