ALL's gone! still thou'rt a Gentleman, that's all; but a poore one, that's nothing: What Milke brings thy Meadowes forth now? where are thy goodly Vp-lands and thy Downe-lands, all sunck into that little pitte Lecherie? why should a Gallant pay but two shillings for his Ordnary that nourishes him, and twenty times two for his Brothell that consumes him? but where's Long-acre? in my Vncles conscience, which is 3. yeares voyage about; he that setts out vpon his conscience, nere finds the way home againe, he is either swallowed in the quick-sands of Law-quillits, or splits vpō the Piles of a Praemunire; yet these old Foxe-braind—and oxe-browde Vncles, haue still defences for their Auarice, and Apologies for their practises, and will thus greete our follyes.

And that's his Vncle, 'tis a principle in Vsury; I dare not visit the Cittie, there I should bee too soone visited, by that horri­ble plague my Debts, and by that meanes I loose a Virgins loue, her portion and her Vertues, well, how should a man liue now, that ha's no liuing; hum? why are there not a million of men in the world, that onely soiourne vpon their braine, and make their wittes their Mercers; and am I but one amongst that Million and cannot thriue vpon't; any Trick out of the compasse of Lawe now, would come happily to me.

My loue.

I know I am your loathing now, farewell.

Stay best inuention,—stay.

I that haue beene the secret consumption of your purse shall I stay now to vndo your last meanes, your witts? hence Currizan away.

I prethee, make me not mad at my owne weapon, stay, (a thing few women can do I know that, and therefore they had need weare stayes;) be not contrary, dost loue me?

Fate has so cast it that all my meanes I must deriue from thee.

Spoke like an honest drab ifaith, it may proue som-thing what Trick is not an Embrion at first, vntil a perfect shape come ouer it.

So, so, so, thou shall presently take the name and forme vpon thee of a rich country widdow foure hundred a yeare va­liant, in Woods, in Bullocks, in Barnes and in Rye-stacks, weele to London▪ and to my couetous Vncle.

I begin to applaud thee, our States beeing both despe­rate, they' are soone resolute, but how for horses?

Masse that's true, the Iest will bee of some continu­ance, let mee see, Horses now, a bottes on em; Stay, I haue acquaintance with a madde Hoste, neuer yet Bawde to thee, I haue rinzde the whoresons gums in Mull-sack many a time and often, put but a good Tale into his eare now, so it come off cleanely, and there's Horse and man for vs I dare war­rant thee.

Why then all's furnisht; I shall goe nigh to catch that olde Foxe mine Vncle, tho hee make but some amends for my vndooing, yet there's some comfort in't — hee cannot other­wise choose (tho it bee but in hope to coozen mee agen) but supply any hastie want that I bring to towne with mee, the De­uice well and cunningly carryed, the name of a riche Widdow, and foure hundred a yeare in good earth, will so coniure vp a kinde of Vsurers loue in him to mee, that hee will not onely desire my presence, which at first shall scarce bee granted him, Ile keepe off a purpose, but I shall finde him so officious to de­serue, so ready to supply, I know the state of an old mans af­fection so well, if his Nephew bee poore indeed, why hee letts God alone with him, but if hee be once rich, then heele bee the first man that helpes him.

Tis right the world, for in these dayes an olde mans loue to his kindred, is like his kindnesse to his wife, 'tis alwayes done before hee comes at it.

I owe thee for that Iest, bee gone, here's all my wealth; prepare thy selfe, away? Ile to mine Hoste withall possible hast, and with the best Art, & most profitable forme, powre the sweet [Page] circumstance into his eare, which shall haue the gift to turne all the waxe to hunny; how no; oh the right worshipful Seniors of our Country —

Whose that;

Oh the common Rioter, take no note of him.

You will not see me now, the comfort is ere it be long you will scarce see your selues.

I wonder how hee breathes, ha's consum'd all vpon that Curtizan?

We haue heard so much.

What was the quarrell sir?

Faith about a purchase, fetching ouer a yong heire; Maister Hoord my brother hauing wasted much time in beating the bargayne, what did me old Lucre▪ but as his conscience mou'd him, knowing the poore Gentleman▪ stept in betweene e'm and couzned him himselfe.

And was this all sir:

This was e'en it sir, yet for all this I know no reason but the match might go forward betwixt his wiues Sonne and my Neece, what tho there bee a dissention betweene the two olde men, I see no reason it should put a difference betweene the two yonger, tis as naturall for old folkes to fall out, as for yong to fall in? A scholler comes a wooing to my Neece, well, hee's wise, but he's poore, her Sonne comes a wooing to my Neece, well, hees a foole, but hees rich —

I marry sir?

Pray now is not a rich foole better then a poore Philo­sopher.

One would think so yfaith?

She now remaines at London with my brother her second [Page] Vncle, to learne fashions, practise Musicke, the voyce betweene her lips, and the violl betweene her legges, shee'le bee fitt for a consort very speedily, a thousand good pound is her portion, if she marry, weele ride vp and be merry,—

A match, if it be a match?

Mine Host?

Young maister Wit-good.

I haue beene laying all the Towne for thee.

Why what's the newes Bully-Hadland?

What Geldings are in the house of thine owne? answer me to that first.

Why man, why?

Marke mee what I say, Ile tell thee such a tale in thine eare, that thou shalt trust mee spite of thy teeth, furnish me with some money, wille, nille, and ride vp with mee thy selfe Contra voluntatem et profession em.

Doost thou ioy in my aduancement?

Do I loue Sack and Ginger?

Comes my prosperitie desiredly to thee?

Come forfeitures to a Vsurer, fees to an officer, punkes to an Hoste, and Pigs to a Parson desiredly? why then la.

Will the report of a Widdow of foure hundred a yeare boye, make thee leape, and sing, and dance, and come to thy place agen.

Wilt thou command me now? I am thy spirit, coniure me into any shape.

I ha brought her from her friends, turnde backe the Horses by a slight, not so much as one amongst her sixe men, goodly large Yeomanly fellowes, will shee trust with this her purpose: by this light all vnmand; regardlesse of her state, neg­lectfull of vaine-glorious ceremonie, all for my loue; oh 'tis a [Page] fine little voluble toung mine Hoste, that wins a widdow.

No 'tis a toung with a great T my boye that winnes a widdow.

Now sir, the case stands thus, good mine Host, if thou lou'st my happinesse assist me.

Command all my beasts ith house.

Nay thats not all neither, prethee take truce with thy ioy, and listen to mee, thou know'st I haue a wealthy Vncle i'th Citty, some-what the wealthier by my follyes; the report of this fortune well and cunningly carried, might be a meanes to drawe some goodnesse from the Vsuring Rascall, for I haue put her in hope already of some estate that I haue eyther in land or money: now if I be found true in neither, what may I expect but a suddaine breach of our loue, vtter dissolution of the match, and confusion of my fortunes for euer.

Wilt thou but trust the managing of thy businesse with me?

With thee? why will I desire to thriue in my purpose? will I hugge foure hundred a yeare? I that know the misery of nothing? will that man wish a riche widdow, that has nere a hole to put his head in? with thee mine Hoste, why beleeue it, sooner with thee then with a Couy of Counsellors?

Thanke you for your good report yfaith sir, and if I stand you not insteed, why then let an Hoste come off Hic & haec hostis, a deadly enemie to Dice, Drinke, and Venery; come where's this widdow?

Hard at Parke-end.

Ile be her Seruing-man for once.

Why there wee let off together, keepe full time, my thoughts were striking then iust the same number.

I knew't, shall we then see our merry dayes agen?

Our merry nights—which nere shall bee more seene.

Nay good Maister Lucre, and you Maister Hoord▪ anger is the winde which you▪re both too much troubled with all.

Shall my aduersary thus dayly afront mee, ripping vp the old wound of our malice, which three Summers could not close vp, into which wound the very sight of him, drops scald­ing Lead insteed of Balsamum.

Why Hoord, Hoord, Hoord, Hoord, Hoord; may I not passe in the state of quietnesse to mine owne house, answer mee to that▪ before witnesse, and why? Ile referre the cause to honest euen-minded Gentlemen, or require the meere indifferences of the Lawe, to decide this matter, I got the purchase, true; was't not any mans case? yes, will a wise-man stand as a Bawd, whilst another wipes his nose of the bargaine, no, I answer no in that case.

Nay sweet Maister Lucre.

Was it the part of a friend: no, rather of a Iew, marke what I say, when I had beaten the bush to the last bird, or as I may terme it, the price to a pound, then like a cunning Vsurer to come in the euening of the bargaine, and gleane all my hopes in a minute, to enter as it were at the back-doore of the purchase, for thou nere camst the right way by it.

Hast thou the conscience to tell mee so, without any impeachment to thy selfe?

Thou that canst defeate thy owne Nephew, Lucre, lap his lands into bonds, and take the extremity of thy kindreds forfeitures because hee's a rioter, a wast-thrift, a brothell-mai­ster, and so forth— what may a Stranger expect from thee, but Ʋulnera delacerata, as the Poet sayes, delacerate dealing?

Vpbraidst thou me with Nephew? is all imputation laid vpon me? what acquaintance haue I with his follyes, if hee riott, 'tis hee must want it, if hee surfet, 'tis hee must feele it: [Page] if he Drab it, 'tis he must lye by't, what's this to me?

What's all to thee? nothing, nothing; such is the gulfe of thy desire, and the Wolfe of thy conscience, but be as­sured old pecunious lucre, if euer fortune so blesse me, that I may be at leisure to vexe thee, or any meanes so fauour me, that I may haue oportunitie to mad thee, I will pursue it with that flame of hate, that spirit of malice, vnrepressed wrath, that I will blast thy comforts.

Ha, ha, ha!

Nay maister Hoord you▪re a wise Gentleman.

I will so crosse thee,

And I thee.

So without mercy fret thee.

So monstrously oppose thee?

Doost scoffe at my iust anger? oh that I had as much power as vsury ha's ouer thee?

Then thou wouldst haue as much power as the deuill ha's ouer thee.

Toade!

Aspick.

Serpent.

Viper.

Nay Gentlemen, then we must diuide you perforce.

When the fire growes too vnreasonable hotte, ther's no better way then to take of the wood.

A word good Signior.

How now, what's the newes?

'Tis giuen mee to vnderstand, that you are a riuall of mine in the loue of Mistresse Ioyce, maister Hoords Neece: say mee I, say me no.

Yes, tis so.

Then looke to your selfe, you cannot liue long, Ime practizing euery morning, a moneth hence Ile challenge you.

Giue mee your hand vpon't ther's my pledge Ile meete you?

Oh, oh—what reason had you for that sir to strike be­fore the mouth, you knew I was not ready for you, and that made you so cranck, I am not such a coward to strike agen I warrant you, my eare has the lawe of her side for it burnes hor­ribly, I will teach him to strike a naked face, the longest day of his life, slid it shall cost me some money, but Ile bring this boxe into the Chancery.

Feare you nothing sir, I haue lodgd her in a house of credit I warrant you.

Hast thou the writings?

Firme sir

Prethee stay, and behold two the most prodigious ras­cals that euer slipt into the shape of men, Dampit sirrah, and young Gulfe, his fellow Cater-piller.

Dampit? sure I haue heard of that Dampit.

Heard of him? why man he that ha's lost both his eares, may heare of him, a famous infamous Trampler of time; his owne phraze: note him well, that Dampit sirrah, hee in the vn­euen Beard, and the Serge cloake, is the most notorious, vsu­ring, blasphemous, Atheisticall, Brothell, vomiting rascall, that wee haue in these latter times now extant, whose first begin­ning was the stealing of a mastie Dogge from a Farmers house.

Hee lookt as if hee would obay the commandement well, when he began first with stealing.

True, the next Towne he came at, hee set the Dogs to­gether by'th eares.

A signe he should follow the law by my faith.

So it followed indeed, and beeing destitute of all fortunes, stakte his Mastie against a Noble, and by great for­tune his Dogge had the day, how hee made it vp ten shillings I know not, but his owne boast is, that hee came to towne but [Page] with ten shillings in his purse, and now is credibly worth tenne thousand pound?

How the deuill came he by it?

How the deuill came he not by it, if you put in the deuill once riches come with a vengeance, has beene a Trampler of the Law sir, and the deuill has a care of his footemen, the Roague has spied me now, hee nibled me finely once too; a poxe search you, oh maister Dampit, the very Loynes of thee; crie you mer­cie maister Gulfe, you walke so lowe I promise you I sawe you not sir?

Hee that walkes lowe walkes safe, the Poets tell vs.

And nyer hell by a foote and a halfe then the rest of his fellowes, but my old Harry.

My sweete Theodorus?

Twas a merry world when thou cam'st to towne with ten shillings in thy purse.

And now worth ten thousand pound my Boye, re­port it, Harry Dampit, a trampler of time, say, hee would bee vp in a morning, and be here with his Serge Gowne, dasht vp to the hams in a cause, haue his feete stincke about VVestminster hall and come home agen, see the Galleouns, the Galleasses the great Armadoes of the Lawe, then there bee Hoyes and pettie vessells, Owers and Scullers of the time, there bee pick­locks of the Time too, then would I bee here, I would tram­ple vp and downe like a Mule; now to the Iudges, may it please your reuerend—honorable father-hoods: then to my Counsellor, may it please your worshipfull patience, then to the examiners Office, may it please your Maistershippes Gen­tlenesse, then to one of the Clarkes, may it please your wor­shipfull Lowzinesse, for I finde him scrubbing in his cod­peice, then to the hall agen, then to the Chamber agen;

And when to the sellar agen?

E'en when thou wilt agen; Tramplers of time, Mo­tions of Fleete-streete, and Visions of Holborne, here I haue [Page] fees of one, there I haue fees of another, my clients come about me, the Fooli-aminy and Cocks-combri of the Country, I stil trasht and trotted for other mens causes, thus was poore Har­ry Dampit made rich by others lazinesse, who, tho they would not follow their owne Suites, I made e'm follow mee with their purses.

Did'st thou so old Harry?

I, and I souc'st e'm with bills of Charges ifayth, twen­tie pound a yeare haue I brought in for boate-hire, and I nere stept into boate in my life.

Tramplers of time.

I, Tramplers of time, Raskalls of time, Bulbeg­gars:

Ah thou'rt a mad old Harrie? kinde Maister Gulfe, I am bould to renew my acquaintance.

I embrace it sir.

My Aduersary euermore twittes mee with my Ne­phew, forsooth my Nephew: why may not a vertuous vncle haue a dissolute Nephewe? what tho hee bee a Brotheller, a wast-thrift, a common Surfetter, and to conclude a beggar, must sinne in him, call vp shame in mee: since wee haue no part in their follies, why should wee haue part in their infamies? for my strickt hand toward his morgage that I denie not, I con­fesse I had an Vncles penworth: let me see, halfe in halfe, true, I sawe neyther hope of his reclayming, nor comfort in his beeing, and was it not then better bestow'd vpon his Vncle, then vpon one of his Aunts, I neede not say bawde, for eue­ry owne knowes what Aunt stands for in the last Translation now sir.

Ther's a Country Seruing-man sir, attends to speake with your worship.

Ime at best leisure now, send him in to me;

Blesse your venerable worship.

Welcome good fellow.

Hee calles me theefe at first sight, yet he little thinkes I am an Host?

What's thy busines with me?

Faith sir, I am sent from my Mistrisse to any sufficient Gentleman indeed, to aske aduise vpon a doubtfull point, 'tis indifferent sir, to whome I come, for I know none, nor did my Mistres direct mee to any perticuler man, for shee's as meere a stranger here as my selfe, onely I found your worship within, and tis a thing I euer lou'd sir to be dispacht as soone as I can:

A good blunt honesty, I like him wel what is thy Mistres?

Fayth a Cuntry Gentlewoman and a widdow sir, yester­day was the first flight of vs, but now shee entends to stay till a little Tearme businesse be ended.

Her name I prethee?

It runnes there in the writings sir, among her Lands, widdow Medler?

Meddler? masse haue I neere heard of that widdow?

Yes, I wa [...]nt you, haue you sir, not the rich widdowe in Staffordsheere:

Cuds me, there tis indeede, thou hast put me into mem­orie, there's a widdow indeed, ah that I were a batchiler agen.

No doubt your worship might do much then, but she's fayrely promist to a bachiler already.

Ah what is he I prethee?

A Country Gentleman too, one whome your worship knowes not Ime sure: has spent some fewe follies in his youth, but marriage by my fayth begins to call him home, my Mistris loues him sir, and loue couers faults you know, one maister VVit-good if euer you haue heard of the Gentleman:

Ha? Wit-good sayst thou?

Thats his name indeede sir; my Mistris is like to bring him to a goodly seate yonder, foure hundred a yeare by my faith,

But I pray take me with you.

I sir▪

What Countryman might this yong Wit-good be?

A Lestershire gentleman sir.

My Nephew, by th▪ masse my Nephew, Ile fetch out more of this yfaith, a simple Country fellow, Ile workte out of him, and is that Gentleman sayst thou presently to marrie her?

Fayth he brought her vp to towne sir, has the best card in all the bunch fort, her heart: and I know my Mistris will bee married, ere she goe downe, nay Ile sweare that, for she's none of those widdowes that will goe downe first, and bee married af­ter, she hates that I can tell you sir.

By my faith sir, shee is like to haue a proper Gentleman and a comelie, Ile giue her that gift?

Why do's your worship know him sir?

I know him! dos not all the world knowe him, can a man of such exquisite qualities be hid vnder a bushell?

Then your worshippe may saue mee a labour, for I had charge giuen me to enquire after him.

Enquire of him? if I might counsell thee, thou shouldst nere trouble thy selfe furder, enquire of him of no more but of mee, Ile fit thee? I grant he has beene youthfull, but is he not now reclaimde; marke you that sir, has not your Mistris thinke you beene wanton in her youth? if men bee wagges, are there not women wagtayles?

No doubt sir:

Do's not he returne wisest, that comes home whipt with his owne follies.

Why very true sir.

The worst report you can heare of him I can tell you is that hee has beene a kinde Gentleman, a liberall and a wor­thie, who but lustie Wit-good, thrice Noble Wit-good.

Since your worshippe has so much knowledge in him, [Page] can you resolue me Sir what his liuing might bee, my duty bindes me sir to haue a care of my mistris estate, she has beene euer a good mistris to me though I say it, many welthy Sui­ters has shee Nonsuted for his sake, yet tho her Loue bee so fixt, a man cannot tell whether his Non-performance may helpe to remoue it sir; hee makes vs beleeue hee has lands and liuing.

Who young maister Wit-good! why beleeue it he has as goodly a fine liuing out yonder, what do you call the place?

Nay I know not ifaith.

Hum, see like a Beast if I haue not forgot the name, puh, and out yonder agen, goodly growen woods and faire meado ves, pax ont, I can nere hit of that place neither, hee; why hes Wit-good of Wit-good-Hall, hee, an vnknowe thing.

Is he so sir, to see how rumor will alter, trust me sir we heard once he had no lands, but all lay morgagde to an Vncle he has in towne here.

Push, tis a tale, tis a tale.

I can assure you sir twas credibly reported to my Mistris.

Why doe you thinke ifaith hee was euer so simple to morgage his lands to his Vncle? or his vncle so vnnaturall to take the extremity of such a morgage.

That was my saying still sir.

Puh, nere thinke it.

Yet that report goes currant.

How sir! what haue I donne.

Why how now in a Sowne, man▪

Is your worship his Vncle sir.

Can that be any harme to you sir.

I do beseech your sir do me the fauour to conceale it, what a Beast was I to vtter so much: pray sir doe mee the kindnesse to keepe it in, I shall haue my coate pull'd ore my [Page] eares, ant should bee knowne, for the truth is an't please your worshippe, to preuent much rumour and many suiters, they entend to bee married verie suddenly and priuately.

And do'st thou thinke it stands with my Iudgement to doe them iniury, must I needes say the knowledge of this marriage comes from thee? am I a foole at fifty foure? doe I lacke subteltie now that haue got all my wealth by it? there's a leash of Angells for thee, come let mee wo thee, speake where lie they?

So I might haue no anger sir—

Passion of me not a iot, prethe come.

I would not haue it knowne it came by my meanes,—

Why am I a man of wisdome?

I dare trust your worship sir, but I'me a stranger to your house, and to auoyde al Intelligencers I desire your worshippes eare.

This fellowe's worth a matter of trust—come sir, why now thou'rt an honest lad: ah sirrah Nephew?

Please you sir now I haue begunne with your worship when shall I attend, for your aduice vpon that doubtfull poynt, I must come warily now.

Tut, feare thou nothing, to morrowes euening shall re­solue the doubt.

The time shall cause my attendance.

Fare thee well: there's more true honesty in such a Cuntrie Seruingman, then in a hundred of our cloake compa­nions, I may well call e'm companions, for since blew coates haue beene turn'd into cloakes, wee can scarce knowe the man from the Maister— George—

Anon sir?

List hether,—keepe the place secret, commend mee to my Nephewe, I knowe no cause tell him but hee might see his Vncle?

I will sir.

And doe you heare sir, take heede you vse him with respect and duty.

Here's a strange alteration, one day he must be turnd out like a Beggar, and now he must be cald in like a Knight!

Ah Sirrah, that rich widdow, 400. a yeare, beside I here she layes Clayme to a title of a hundred more, this falls vnhap­pily that he should beare a Grudge to me now being likely to proue so rich, what ist tro that hee makes me a Stranger for? hum, I hope he has not so much wit to apprehend that I coz­ned him, he decaues me then? good heauen, who would haue thought, it would euer haue come to this passe, —yet hee's a proper Gentleman ifaith, giue him his due—marry thats his Morgage, but that I nere meane to giue him, ile make him rich inough in words if that be good, and if it come to a peece of mony I will not greatly sticke fort, there may be hope some of the widdowes lands too, may one day fall vpon me if things be carried wisely: now sir, where is he?

He desires your worship to hold him excusde, he has such weighty Busines it commands him wholy from all men.

Were those my Nephewes words?

Yes indeed sir.

When men grow rich they grow proud too, I perceiue that, he would not haue sent me such an answere once within this tweluemonth, see what tis when a mans come to his lands, returne to him agen sir, tell him his Vncle desires his company for an hower▪ Ile trouble him but an hower say, tis for his owne good tell him, and do you heare sir, put worship vpon him, go too, doe as I bid you, he's like to be a Gentleman of worship very shortly.

This is good sport ifaith.

Troth he vses his Vncle, discourteously now, can he tell what I may do for him, Goodnes may come frō me in a minute that comes not in Seauen yeare agen, hee knowes my humour I am not so vsually good, tis no small thing that drawes kind­nes frō me, he may know that, and he will; the cheife cause that inuites me to do him most good, is the suddaine astonishing of [Page] ould Hoord my Aduersary, how pale his malice will looke at my Nephewes Aduancement, with what a deiected Spirit hee will behold his Fortunes, whome but last day, hee proclaymde Riotter, Penurious Make-shift, dispised Brothell Maister; ha, ha, twill doe me more secret Ioy then my last purchasse, more pretious comfott then all these widdowes Reuennewes,— Now Sir. —

With much entrety he's at length come sir,

Oh Nephew, let me salute you sir, your welcome Nephew

Vncle I thanke you.

Yaue a sault Nephew, your a Stranger here, well Hea­uen giue you ioy.

Of what Sir?

How could you heare of that sir?

Not for any defect of Loue I protest Vncle.

Oh twas Vnkindnes Nephew, fie, fie, fie.

I am sory you take it in that sence sir.

Puh, you cannot coulour it ifaith Nephew.

Will you but heare what I can say in my iust excuse sir.

Yes faith will I, and welcome.

You that know my danger ith Citty sir so well, how great my debts are, and how extreame my Creditors could not out of your pure iudgment sir, haue wisht vs hether.

Masse a firme reason indeed,

Else my Vncles house, why tad beene the onely make— Match.—

Nay and thy credit.

My credit? nay my countenance, push, nay I know vncle you would haue wrought it so by your wit you would haue made her beleeue in time the whole house had beene mine —

I and most of the goods too —

La you there; wel, let e'm al prate what they will ther's nothing like the bringing of a widdow to ones Vncles house.

Nay let Nephewes be rulde as they list, they shall finde their Vncles house, the most naturall place when all's done.

There they may be bold.

Life, they may do any thing there man, and feare neither Beadle nor Somner, an Vncles house! a very coale-harbour? Sirra, Ile touch thee neere now, hast thou so much interest in thy widdow, that by a token thou couldst presently send for her?

Troth I thinke I can vncle.

Go too, let me see that?

Pray command one of your men hether Vncle.

George?

Here sir.

Attend my Nephew? I loue a life to prattle with a rich widdow, tis prety me thinkes when our tongues goe togither, and then to promise much and performe little; I loue that sport a life yfaith, yet I am in the moode now to do my Nephew some good, if he take me handsomely: what haue you dispacht?

I ha sent sir?

Yet I must condemne you of vnkindnesse Nephew.

Heauen forbid Vncle?

Yes fayth must I; say your debts bee many, your credi­tors importunate, yet the kindnesse of a thing is all Nephew, you might haue sent me close word on't, without the least dan­ger, or praeiudice to your fortunes.

Troth I confesse it Vncle, I was too blame there, but in­deed my intent was to haue clapt it vp suddainely, and so haue broke forth like a ioye to my friends, and a wonder to the world, beside there's a trifle of a forty pound matter towarde the setting of mee forth, my friends should nere haue knowne on't, I meant to make shift for that my selfe▪

How Nephew? let me not heare such a word agen, I be­seech you,—shall I be beholding to you?

To me alasse, what do you meane Vncle?

I charge you vpon my loue: you trouble no body but my selfe.

Y'aue no reason for that Vncle.

Troth Ile nere bee friends with you while you liue and you doe.

Nay and you say so Vncle, here's my hand, I will not doote —

Why well sayde, there's some hope in thee when thou wilt bee rulde, ile make it vp fifty fayth, because I see thee so re­claimde; peace, here comes my wife with Sam her tother hus­bands Sonne.

Good Aunt—

Couzē Wit-good? I reioyce in my salute, your most welcome to this Noble Citty gouern'd with the sword in the Scabbard,

And the wit in the pommell, good Maister Sam fredome I returne the salute.

By the masse she's comming wife, let mee see now how thou wilt entertaine her.

I hope I am not to learne sir, to entertaine a widdowe, tis not so long ago since I was one my selfe?

Vncle?

Shee's come indeed?

My Vncle was desirous to see you widdow, and I prae­sum'd to enuite you.

The praesumption was nothing Maister Wit-good, is this yours Vncle sir?

Marry am I sweete widdow, and his good Vncle he shal finde me, I by this smack that I giue thee, thou'rt welcome, wife, bid the widdow welcome the same way agen.

I am a Gentleman now too, by my fathers occupation, and I see no reason but I may kisse a widdowe by my Fathers Coppy, truely I thinke the Charter is not against it, surely these are the wordes, the Sonne once a Gentleman, may reuell it, tho his father were a dauber, tis about the 15 page,—ile to her—

Y'are not very busie now, a worde with thee sweete widdow—

Coades-Nigs, I was neuer so disgrac'st, since the houre my mother whipt me.

Beside, I haue no childe of mine owne to care for, shee's my second wife, old, past bearing, clap sure to him widdow, he's like to be my heire I can tell you?

Is he so sir?

Hee knowes it already and the knaues proud on't, iolly rich widdowes haue beene offerd him here ith Citty, great mar­chants wiues, and do you thinke he would once looke vpon e'm? forsooth heele none, you are beholding to him ith Coūtry then; ere we could be, nay, ile hold a wager widdow if hee were once knowne to bee in towne, hee would bee presently sought after, nay and happie were they, that could catch him first.

I thinke so?

Oh, there would be such running to and fro widdow, hee should not passe the streetes for e'm: he'ed bee tooke vp in one great house or other presently, fah, they know he has it & must haue it; you see this house here widdowe, this house and all comes to him, goodly Roomes ready furnisht, seeld with plaster of paris, and all hung aboue with cloth of arras. Nephew!

Sir —

Shew the widdowe your house, carry her into all the Roomes, and bid her welcome,—you shall see widdow—Ne­phew?—strike all sure aboue and thou bee'st a good boye—ah—

Alasse sir, I know not how shee would take it:

The right way I warrant tee, a poxe, art an asse, would I were in thy stead, get you vp, I am a shamde of you, so: let e'm agree as they wil now? many a match has beene struck vp in my house a this fashion, let e'm try all manner of waies still there's nothing like an Vncles house to strike the stroake in, —Ile hold my wife in talke a little, now Ginnee; your sonne there goes a wooing to a poore Gentlewoman but of a 1000. portion, see my Nephew, a lad of lesse hope, strikes at foure hundred a yeare in good Rubbish▪

Well we must do as we may sir.

Ile haue his money ready told for him, againe hee come downe, let mee see too, by'th masse I must present the widdowe with some Iewell, a good peece a plate or such a deuice, twill [Page] harten her on wel, I haue a very faire stranding cup, and a good hie standing cup wil please a widow aboue al other peices.

Do you mock vs with your Nephew, I haue a plot in my head sonne, ifaith husband to crosse you.

Is it a tragedy plot, or a comedy plot, good mother.

Tis a plot shall vexe him, I charge you of my blessing Sonne Sam, that you presently withdrawe the Action of your loue from Maister Hoords Neece.

How mother.

Nay I haue a plot in my head ifaith, here take this chain of gold and this faire diamond, dogge me the widdow home to her lodging, and at thy best opportunity fasten e'm both vpon her—nay I haue a Reach, I can tell you thou art knowne what thou art sonne among the right worshipfull; all the twelue companyes.

Truely I thanke 'em for it.

He, he's a scab to thee, and so certifie her, thou hast two hundred a yeare of thy selfe, beside thy good parts— a proper person and a louely, if I were a widdow I could find in my heart to haue thee my selfe, sonne, I, from em all.

Thanke you for your good will mother, but in deed I had rather haue a Stranger: and if I wo her not in that Violent fashion, that I will make her bee glad to take these gifts ere I leaue her, let me neuer be called the heire of your body.

Nay I know theres inough in you sonne if you once come to put it forth.

Ile quickly make a Bolt, or a shaft ont.

Faith Maister Hoord, I haue bestowde many months in the Suite of your Neece, such was the deere loue I euer bore to her vertues, but since she hath so extreamely denied me, I am to lay out for my fortunes else where.

Heauen forbid but you should fir, I euer told you my Neece, stood otherwise affected.

I must confesse you did sir, yet in regard of my great losse of time, and the zeale with which I sought your Neece, shall I desire one fauour of your worship.

In regard of those two tis hard but you shall sir.

I shall rest gratefull, tis not full 3. houres sir, since the happy rumour of a rich Country widdow came to my hearing.

How a rich Country widdow?

Foure hundred a yeare landed.

Yea?

Most firme sir, and I haue learnt her lodging, here my suite begins sir, if I might but entreate your worship to bee a countenance for mee, and speake a good word: for your words will passe, I nothing doubt, but I might set faire for the wid­dowe, nor shall your labour sir end altogither in thankes, two hundred Angells—

So, so, what suiters has shee?

There lies the comfort sir, the report of her is yet but a whisper, and onely sollicited by young Riotous Wit-good, Ne­phew to your mortall aduersary.

Ha? art certaine he's her suiter?

Most certaine sir, and his Vncle very industrious to beguile the widdow, and make vp the match!

So? very good?

Now sir you know this yong Wit-good is a spend-thrift— dissolute fellow.

A very Raskall:

A mid-night surfetter.

The spume of a Brothel-house.

True sir? which beeing well told in your worshippes phraze, may both heaue him out of her minde, and driue a faire way for me to the widdowes affections.

Attend me about 5.

With my best care sir.

I am glad of this newes.

So are we by my faith.

Yong Wit-good will be a gallant agen now.

Peace?

I promise you Maister Cock-pit she's a mighty rich widdow.

Why haue you euer heard of her.

Who widdow Medler, shee lies open to much rumour.

Foure hundred a yeare they say in very good land.

Nay tak't of my word if you beleeue that, you beleeue the least.

And to see how closse hee keepes it.

Oh sir there's policy in that to preuent better suiters.

Hee owes me a hundred pound, and I protest I neere lookte for a pennie.

He little dreames of our comming, heele wonder to see his creditors vpon him.

Why alasse, my Creditors? could you finde no other time to vndo mee but now, rather your malice appeares in this then the iustnesse of the debt.

Maister Wit-good I haue forborne my money long.

I pray speake lowe sir, what do you meane?

We heare you are to be married suddainely to a rich Coun­try widdow?

What can bee kept so closse but you creditors here on't, wel, tis a lamentable state, that our cheifest afflicters should first [Page] heare of our fortunes, why this is no good course yfaith sirs, if euer you haue hope to bee satisfied, why doe you seeke to con­found the meanes that should worke it, there's neither piety, no nor policy in that, shine fauorably now, why I may rize and spred agen, to your great comforts.

He saies true yfaith.

Remoue me now, and I consume for euer.

Sweete Gentleman?

How can it thriue which from the Sun you seuer.

It cannot indeed?

Oh then show patience, I shall haue ynough to satisfie you all.

I, if we could be content a shame take vs.

For looke you, I am but newly sure yet to the widdow, & what a Rend might this discredit make: within these 3. daies will I binde you lands for your securities.

I know you haue beene kinde, how euer now either by wrong report, or false incitement your gentlenesse is iniurde, in such a state as this a man cannot want foes.

Faith wee heard you brought vp a rich widdow sir, and were suddainely to marry her.

I, why there it was, I knew twas so, but since you are so wel resolude of my faith toward you, let me be so much fauor'd of you, I beseech you all —

Oh, it shall not need ifaith sir, —

As to lie still a while, and bury my debts in silence, till I be fully possest of the widdow, for the truth is, I may tell you as my friends —

Oh—o—o—

I am to raise a little money in the Citty, toward the set­ting forth of my selfe, for mine owne credit, and your comfort, now if my former debts should be diuulg'd, all hope of my pro­ceedings were quite extinguisht!

Do you heare sir, I may deserue your custome heereafter, pray let my money be accepted before a strangers, here's fortie [Page] pound I receiu'd as I came to you, if that may stand you in any stead make vse on't, nay pray sir, tis at your seruice —

You doe so rauish mee with kindnesse, that I'me con­strainde, to play the maide and take it?

Let none of them see it I beseech you.

Fah—

I hope I shall be first in your remembrance after the mar­riage rites.

Beleeue it firmely.

So, what do you walke sirs?

I goe—take no care sir for money to furnish you, within this houre ile send you sufficient: come Maister Cock-pit wee both stay for you.

I ha lost a ring ifaith, ile followe you presently—but you shall finde it sir, I know your youth and expences haue disfur­nisht you of all Iewells, ther's a Ruby of twenty pound price sir, bestowe it vpon your widdow, —what man, twill call vp her bloud to you, beside if I might so much worke with you, I would not haue you beholding to those bloud-suckers for any money.

Not I beleeue it.

The'ar a brace of cut-throates?

I know e'm.

Send a note of all your wants to my shoppe and ile sup­ly you instantly.

Say you so, why here's my hand then no man liuing shal do't but thy selfe.

Shall I carry it away from e'm both then.

I faith shalt thou?

Troth then I thanke you sir.

Welcome good maister Cock-pit!

ha, ha, ha? why is not this better now, then lying a bed, I per­ceiue there's nothing coniures vp wit sooner then pouerty, and nothing laies it downe sooner then wealth and lecherie? this has some sauour yet, oh that I had the morgage from mine Vn­cle as sure in possession as these trifles, I would forsweare Brothel at noone day, and Muscadine and eggs at midnight.

Maister Wit-good? where are you?

Holla.

Rich Newes!

Would twere all in Plate,

There's some in chaines and Iewells, I am so haunted with shuters Maister Wit-good, I know not which to dispatch first.

You haue the better tearme by my faith

Among the number, one Maister Hoord an Antient Gentleman.

Vpon my life my Vncles aduersary.

As I could wish it.

Excellent,

Wench, make vp thy owne fortunes now, do thy selfe a good turne once in thy Dayes, hees rich in money, moueables, and lands, —marry him, he's an old doting foole, and thats worth all, marry him, twould bee a great comfort to me to see thee do well ifaith, —marry him, twould ease my conscience well to see thee well destowd, I haue a care of thee ifaith.

Thankes sweete maister Wit-good.

I reach at farder happines; first I am sure it can be no harme to thee, and there may happen goodnes to me by it, prosecute it well, lets send vp for out witts, now we require their best and most pregnant Assistance!

Step in, I thinke I heare e'm.

Art thou the widdowes man, by my faith sh' as a com­pany of proper men then.

I am the worst of sixe sir, good inough for blew-coates.

Harke hether, I heare say thou art in most credit with her.

Not so sir.

Come, come, thou'rt modest, theres a Brace of royalls, prethee helpe me to'th speech of her.

Ile do what I may sir alwayes sauing my selfe harmelesse.

Go too do't I say, thou shalt heare better from me.

Is not this a better place then 5. Marke a yeare standing wages; say a man had but 3. such clients in a day, me thinkes he might make a poore liuing ont, beside I was neuer brought vp with so little honesty, to refuse any mans mony neuer; what g [...]lles there are a this side the world, now knowe I the wid­dowes minde, none but my yong master comes in her clutches, ha, ha, ha.

Now my deere Gentlemen stand firmely to me, you know his follyes, and my worth.

Wee doo sir.

But Maister Hoord, are you sure he is not ith house now?

Y are wellcome Maister Hoord.

And that will driue it home,

Widdow? not a word!

It suffizes?

Nor land, nor liuing say you, pray take heede you do not wrong the Gentleman?

Alasse, how soone are wee poore soules beguild!

And for his Vncle.—

Follow hard, Gentlemen, follow hard?

Heauen knowes hee neuer meant it?

There, take her at the bound,—

Ile make her a ioynture say.

Hee can ioyne land to land, and will possesse you of what you can desire.

Come widdow come.

The world is so deceitfull?

Pray sir.

Come you widdowes are euer most back-ward, when you should doe your selues most good, but were it to marry a chin not worth a haire now, then you would bee forward ynough? come, clap hands, a match.

Well said, widdowe, well said, thy Loue is all I seeke, before these Gentlemen.

Now I must hope the best,

My ioyes are such they want to be exprest,

But Maister Hoord, one thing I mus [...] remember you of before these gentlemen your friends, how shall I suddainly auoyde the loathed Solleciting of that periurd Wit-good, and his Tedious—dissembling Vncle, who this very uery day hath appointed a meeting for the same purpose too, where had not truth come forth I had beene vndon, vtterly vndon.

What thinke you of that Gentlemen.

Twas well deuized.

Harke thee widdow, trayne out yong Wit-good single, hasten him thether with thee, somewhat before the hower where at the place appointed these Gentlemen and my selfe wil waite the opportunty, when by some slieght remouing him from thee we'le suddenly enter and surprise thee, carry thee away by boate to Coale-harbour, haue a Priest ready and there Clap it vp instantly, how lik'st it widdow?

In that it pleaseth you, it likes me well.

Farwell sir.—

Maister Wit-good your Vncle—

Cuds me, remoue thy selfe a while, ile serue for him?

Nephew, good morrow, Nephew?

The same to you kinde Vncle.

How fares the widdow, do's the meeting hold?

Oh no question of that sir?

Ile strike the stroake then for thee, no more daies.

The sooner the better Vncle, oh shee's mightily fol­lowed, —

And yet so little rumourd.

Mightily? here comes one old Gentleman, and heele make her a ioynture of three hundred a yeare forsooth, another welthy suiter wil estate his sonne in his life time, and make him weigh downe the widdow, here a Merchants sonne wil possesse, her with no lesse then three goodly Lordships at once, which were all pawnes to his Father.

Peace Nephew let mee heare no more of e'm, it mads mee, thou shalt preuent e'm all, no words to the widdow of my comming hether, let mee see, tis now vpon nine, before twelue. Nephew we will haue the bargaine struck, wee will faith boye.

Oh my pretious Vncle.

Neece, sweete Neece, prethee haue a care to my house, I leaue al to thy discretion, be content to dreame a while, ile haue a husband for thee shortly, put that care vpon me wench, for in choosing wiues and husbands I am onely fortunate, I haue that gift giuen me.

A letter with which came a priuate charge.

You're very welcome Gentlemen, Dick showe those Gentlemen the Pomgranite there,—

Hist—

Vp those staires Gentlemen.

Pist Drawer,—

Anon sir?

Prethe aske at the Bar, if a gentlewomā came not in lately?

William at the Bar did you see any Gentlewoman come in lately, speake you I, speake you no.

No, none came in yet but mistres Florence.

Hee saies none came in yet sir, but one Mistres Florence.

What is that Florence? a widdow!

Yes a duch widdow.

How?

Thats an English drab sir, giue your worship good mor­row.

A merry knaue ifaith, I shall remember a dutch widdow the longest day of my life.

Did not I vse most art to win the widdow.

You shall pardon mee for that sir, Maister Hoord knowes I tooke her at best vantage.

What's that sweete Gentlemen, what's that?

He will needs beare me downe that his art onely, wrought with the widdow most.

Oh you did both well Gentlemen, you did both well, I thanke you.

I was the first that mou'd her.

You were ifaith.

But it was I that tooke her at the bound.

I, that was you, faith Gentlemen, tis right.

I boasted least, but twas I ioynd their hands,

By'th masse I thinke hee did, you did all well gentlemen, you did al wel, contend no more:

Come you roomes fittest:

True tis next the doore?

Your verie welcome, please you to walke vp stai [...]s cloths layde sir.

Vp staires! troth I am weary Maister Wit-good

Rest your selfe here a while widdowe, wee'le haue a cup of Muscadine in this little Roome.

A cup of Muscadine, you shall haue the best sir.

But do you heare sirrah.

Do you call, anon sir.

What is there prouided for dinner

I cannot readily tell you sir, if you please, you may goe into the kitchin and see your selfe sir, many Gentlemen of wor­ship do vse to do it, I assure you sir?

A prety familiar Priggin raskall, hee has his part with­out booke?

Against you are ready to drinck to mee, widdow, ile bee present to pledge you.

Nay I commend your care, tis donne well of you? asse what haue I forgot.

What Mistres?

I slipt my wedding Ring off when I washt, and left it at my lodging, prethee run, I shall be sad without it, so, hee's gon!—boye?

Anon forsooth?

Come hether sirrah, learne secretly if one Maister Hoord an antient Gentleman be about house?

I heard such a one nam'd.

Commend me to him.

I bee do thy commendations?

Oh you come well: away, to boate, be gon.

Thus wisemen are reueng'd giue two for one.

I must request you sir, to show extraordinary care, my Vn­cle comes with Gentlemen his friends, and tis vpon a making?

If shee bee a Staffordsheere Gentlewoman, tis much if I know her not, —

How now, boy, drawer.

Hie?

Do you ca [...]l sir?

Went the Gentlewoman vp that was here?

Vp sir? she went out sir.

Out sir?

Out sir: one Maister Hoord with a guard of Gentlemen carried her out at backdoore, a pretie while since sir.

Hoord, death and darkenesse, Hoord.

The deuill of ring I can finde?

How now, what newes, where's the widdow?

My Mistris? is she not here sir?

More madnes yet.

Shee sent me for a Ring.

A plot, a plot: to Boate shee's stole away.

What?

Follow, enquire, old Hoord my Vncles Aduersary—

Nephew, what's that?

Thrice miserable wretch.

Why what's the matter?

The widdow's borne away sir?

Ha, passion of me, a heauy welcome Gentlemen.

The widdow gon?

Who durst attempt it?

Who but old Hoord, my Vncles aduersary?

How?

With his confederates.

So malitiouslie.

How now you treacherous Rascall?

That's none of my name sir.

Poore soule he knew not on't.

Ime sory, I see then 'twas a meere plot.

I trac'de e'm neerely.—

Well.

And heare for certaine, they haue tooke Cole-harbor.

When did I say my prayers? In Anno 88. when the great Armado was comming, and In Anno. 99. when the great Thundring and Lighting was I prayd heartily then ifaith, to ouerthrow Poouyes new buildings, I kneeld by my great iron chest I remember.

Maister Dampit, one may heare you, before they see you, you keepe sweet howers Maister Dampit, we were all a bed 3 howers agoe.

Audry.

Oh yare a fine Gentleman.

So I am ifaith, and a fine Scholler, do you vse to goe to bed Bed, so earely Audry?

Call you this earely Maister Dampit.

Why ist not one of Clocke ith morning is not that earely inough? fetch me a glasse of fresh-Beere.

Here, I haue warmd your Nightcap for you maister Dampit.

Draw it on then—I am very weake truely, I haue not eaten so much as the bulke of an Egge these 3. dayes.

You haue drunke the more Maister Dampit,

Whats that?

You mought, and you would Maister Dampit.

I answer you I cannot, hold your prating, you prat too much, and vnderstand too litle, are you answered, —giue me a glasse of beare.

May I aske you how you doe Maister Dampit?

How do I? ifaith naught.

I nere knenw you do otherwise,

I eate not one pennort of bread these 2. yeares, giue me a glasse of fresh beere,—I am not sicke, nor I am not well.—

Take ths warme Napken about your necke sir, whilst I helpe to make you vnready.

How now Audrie-prater, with your skiruy deuices, what say you now?

What say I Maister Dampit? I say nothing but that you are very weake,

Faith thou hast more cunny catching deuices then all London?

Why Maister Dampit I neuer deceiu▪d you in al my life?

VVhy was that? because I neuer did trust thee.

I care not what you say Maister Dampit?

Hold thy prating, I answere thee, thou art a beggar, a queane, and a bawde: are you answerd.

Fie Maister Dampit, a Gentleman and haue such words.

VVhy thou base drudge of infortunity, thou kitchin-stuffe drab of Beggery, Roguery & cockscombre, thou Cauerne­sed queane of foolery, knauery and baudreaminy, ile tell thee what, I will not giue a lowse for thy fortunes:

No, maister Dampit, and there's a Gentleman comes a wooing to me, and he doubts nothing but that you will get mee from him:

I, if I would either haue thee or lie with thee for two thousand pound, would I might bee dambd, why thou base im­pudent queane of foolery, flattery, and cockscombry, are you an­swerd?

Come will you rise and goe to bed sir?

Rise, and go to bed too Audry? how do's Misters Pro­serpine?

Fooh—

She's as fine a Philosipher of a stinkards wife, as any within the liberties,—fah, fah Audry:

How now Maister Dampit?

Fie vpon't, what a choise of stinckes here is, what hast thou don Audry fie vppon't, here's a choice of stinckes indeed; giue me a glasse of fresh Beere, and then I wil to bed:

It waites for you aboue sir?

Foh, I thinke they burne hornes in Barnards Inne, if e­uer I smelt such an abhominable stinck, vsury forsake me:

They be the stincking nailes of his trampling feete, and he talkes of burning of hornes:

Hoord?

Vpon my life, my aduersary, Gentlemen.

Gentlemen keepe'm out.

Hee comes vpon his death that enters here.

My friends assist me.

Hee has assistants, Gentlemen.

Tut, nor him, nor them, we in this action feare.

Shall I in peace, speake one word with the widow?

Husband and Gentlemen, heare me but a word.

Freely sweete wife.

Let him in peaceably, you know we're sure, from any act of his.

Most true,

You may stand by and smile at his old weakenesse, let mee alone to answere him.

Good gullery?

Vpon calme conditions let him in.

All spite and malice—

I do vow it.

Then enter and talke freely, here she stands.

Oh Maister Hoord, your spite has wacht the houre, your excellent at vengeance Maister Hoord.

Ha, ha, ha.

Broke you for this?

Why say it did, you might haue knowne my minde; I could haue soone restorde it.

I had I but seene any such thing perform'd why twould haue tyed my affection and contaynd me in my first desires, doe you thinke ifayth, that I could twine such a dry, oake as this, had promise in your Nephew tooke effect:

Why and there's no time past, and rather then my ad­uersary should thus thw'art my hopes, I would —

Weele pawne our credits widdow, what he speakes shall [Page] be performde in fullnesse.

When I shall heare this done, I shall soone yeeld, to reasonable tearmes.

I, with all my heart.

He shall see all performde and bring you word.

Thats all I waite for.

What haue you finisht Maister Lucre? ha, ha, ha, ha!

So, laugh Hoord, laugh at your poore enimy, do, the winde may turne you may be laught at too, yes marry may you sir—ha, ha, ha?

Faith spoke to ease his minde,—

Oh—o—o—

You know now, little to any purpose.

True, true, true.

He would do mountaines now.

I, I, I, I.

Y'aue struck him dead Master Hoord.

I and his Nephew desperate:

O man in lamentation father?

How!

He thumpes his brest like a gallant Dicer that has lost his [Page] doublet, and stands in's shirt to do pennance:

Alasse poore gentleman.

I warrant, you may heare him sigh in a still euening to your house at Hyegate.

I prethe send him in.

Were it to do a greater matter, I will not stick with you sir, in regard you married my Mother?

Sweete Gentlemen cheere him vp, I will but fetch the morgage, and returne to you instantly.

Why how Maister Wit-good, fie, you a firme scholler, and an vnderstanding Gentleman, and giue your best partes to passion.

Come fie?

Oh Gentlemen!—

Sorrow of mee what a sigh was there sir, nine such wid­dowes are not worth it.

To be borne from me by that lecher Hoord.

I beseech you Gentlemen.

Cheere thy selfe man, there's hope of her ifayth?

To gladsome, to be true.

Nephew what cheere? alasse poore Gentleman how art thou changd? call thy fresh bloud into thy cheekes agen, shee comes—

I thats it mads mee, spites mee? ile spend my wealth, e're he shall carry her so, because I know tis onely to spite me, I this is it,—here Nephew, before these kinde Gentlemen I deliuer in your morgage, my promise to the widdow, see tis done, be wise your once more Maister of your owne, the widdow shall per­ceiue now, you are not altogither such a beggar as the world re­putes you, you can make shift to bring her to 300. a yeare sir.

Berlady and thats no toye sir:

A word Nephew?

Now you may certifye the widdow?

You must conceiue it a right Nephewe now, to doe you good, I am content to do this.

I know it sir?

But your owne conscience can tell I had it deerely ynough of you?

I thats most certaine.

Much money layde out, beside maney a iourney to fetch the rent, I hope youle thinke on't Nephew.

I were worse then a beast else ifayth.

Although to blinde the widdow and the world I out of policy doote, yet there's a conscience Nephew.

Heaven forbid else.

Alasse a thing quickly done Vncle.

Well sayd,—you know I giue it you but in trust.

No.

That is, you trust me with it.

True, true:

But if euer I trust you with it agen, would I might bee trust vp for my labour.

You can all witnesse Gentlemen, and you sir yeoman?

My life for yours sir now, I know my Mistrisses minde to well toward your Nephew, let things be in preparation, and ile traine her hether in most excellent fashion:

A good old boy,—wife Girnne?

Whats the newes sir?

The wedding daies at hand, prethee sweete wife, ex­presse thy houswifery, thou'rt a fine Cooke I knowte, thy first husband married thee out of an Aldermans kitchin, go too, he raisde thee for raysing of paste, what, here's none but friends, most of our beginnings must bee winckt at, Gentlemen I enuite you all to my Nephewes wedding against Thursday morning:

Withall our hearts, and wee shall ioye to see your enimy so mockt:

He laught at me, gentlemen, ha, ha, ha:

Ile wayte these 7. howers but Ile see him caught,

Faith so will I.

Hang him prodigall, he's stript of the Widdow.

A my Troth shees the wiser, she has made the happier choyse, and I wonder of what Stuffe those widdowes hearts are made of, that wil marry vnfledgd Boies, before comely thrumb­chind Gentlemen.

Newes, newes newes,

What boye?

The Rioter is caught.

So, so, so, so, it warmes me at the heart, I loue a life to see Dogs vpon men; oh here hee comes.

My last ioy was so great it tooke away the sence of all future afflictions, what a day is here orecast? how soone a black tempest rises?

Oh wee may speake with you now sir, whats become of your rich widdow, I thinke you may cast your cap at the wid­dow, may you not sir.

He a rich widdow? who a prodigall, a dayly Rioter, and a nightly vomiter, he a widow of account? he a hole ith counter.

You do well my maisters, to tiranize ouer misery to af­flect the affl [...]cted, tis a custome you haue here amongst you, I would wish you neuer leaue it and I hope youle do as I bid you

Come, come sir, what say you extempore now to your bill of a hundred pound: a sweet debt, for froating your doublets.

Here's mine of forty,

Here's mine of fifty.

Pray sirs▪ youle giue me Breath.

No sir, wel'e keepe you out of breath still, then we shall be sure you will not run away from vs.

Will you but here me speake?

You shall pardon vs for that sir, we know you haue too faire a tong of your owne, you ouer-came vs to lately, a shame take you, we are like to loose all that for want of witnesses, wee dealt in policy then, alwaies when we striue to bee most politi­que we proue most cocskcombs, Non plus vltra. I perceiue by vs, were not ordaynde to thriue by wisdome, and therefore wee must be content to be Trades-men.

Giue me but reasonable time, and I protest Ile make you ample Satisfaction.

Do you talke of Reasonable time to vs?

Tis true, beasts know no reasonable time,

Wee must haue either mony or carcasse.

Alasse what good will my carcasse do you?

Oh tis a Secret delight we haue amongst vs, we that are vsde to keepe birds in cages, haue the heart to keepe men in prison, I warrant you.

I perceiue I must craue a litle more Ayde from my wits, do but make shift for me this once, and Ile forsweare euer to trouble you in the like fashion hereafter, Ile haue better em­ployment for you, and I liue. Youle giue me leaue my maisters to make Tryall of my friends and raise all meanes I can.

Thats our desires sir.

Maister Wit-good.

Oh art thou come!

May I speake one word with you in priuate sir?

No by my faith canst thou. I am in hell here and the Deuills will not let me Come to thee.

Do you call vs diuuills, you shall find vs Puritanes beare him away, let em talke as they go, we'le not stand to heare 'em, ah sir, am I a deuile, I shall thinke the better of my selfe as long as I liue, a Deuill ifaith.

What a Sweet blessing hast thou Maister Hoord aboue a multitude, wilt thou neuer be thankeful? how dost thou thinke to be blest another time? or dost thou count this the full measure of thy hapines by my troth I thinke thou doest▪ not only a wife large in possessions, but spatious in content, she's rich, she's yong, she's fayre, she's wife, when I wake I thinke of her lands that reuiues me, when I go to bed, I dreame of her beauty, and [Page] thats ynough for me, she's worth 4. hundred a yeare in her very smock, if a man knewe how to vse it, but the iourney will bee all introth into the Country, to ride to her Lands in state and order following my Brother & other worshipfull Gentlemen whose companies I ha sent downe for already, to ride along with vs, in their goodly Decorum beards, their broad Veluet chashocks, and chaines of gold twice or thrice double; against which time, ile entertaine some ten men of mine own, into Liueries, all of oc­cupations or qualities, I will not keepe an idle man about mee, the sight of which will so vexe my Aduersary Lucre, for weele passe by his dore of purpose, make a little stand for nonce, & haue our horses Curuet before the window, certainly he will neuer endure it, but run vp & hang himself presently? how now sirra? what newes? any that offer their seruice to me yet.

Yes sir, there are some ith hall, that waite for your wor­ships liking, and desire to be entertainde.

Are they of occupation?

They are men fit for your worship sir.

Sayst so? send e'm all in!—to see ten men ride after mee in watchet liueries with Orenge-tawny capes, twill cut his combe ifayth, how now? of what occupation are you sir.

A Taylor, an't please your worship.

A taylor, oh very good, you shall serue to make all the Liueries—what are you sir?

A Barber sir.

A Barber very needefull, you shall shaue all the house, and if neede require stand for a Reaper ith Sommer time,— You sir?

A Perfumer?

I smelt you before, Persumers of all men had neede carry themselues vprightly, for if they were once knaues they would be smelt out quickly, —to you sir?

A Fawlkner an't please your worship—

Sa ho, sa ho, sa ho—and you sir?

A Huntsman sir.

There boy, there boye, there boye? I am not so old but I haue pleasant daies to come, I promise you my Maisters I take such a good liking to you, that I entertaine you all, I put you already into my countenance, and you shall be shortly in my liuerie? but especially you two my [...]olly Fawlkner, and [Page] my bonny huntsman, wee shall haue most neede of you at my wifes Mannor-houses ith Country, there's goodly parkes and Champion-grounds for you, we shall haue all our sports within our selues, all the Gentlemen ath Country shall bee beholding to vs and our pastimes:

And weele make you worship admire sir:

Sayst thou [...]o do but make mee admire, and thou shalt want for nothing,—my Taylor?

Anon sir.

Go presently in hand with the liueries.

I will sir.

My Barber.

Here sir.

Make e'm all trim fellowes, lowse e'm well, especially my huntsman, and cut all their beards of the Polonian fashion: my perfumer:

Vnder your nose sir:

Cast a better sauour vpon the knaues, to take away the sent of my Taylors feete, and my Barbers Lotium-water:

It shall be carefully performde sir.

But you my Faulkner and Huntsman, the welcomst men aliue ifayth:

And weele show you that sir, shall deserue your wor­shippes fauour?

I prethee show mee that: goe you knaues all, and wash your lungs ith Buttery, go—byth masse, and well remembred, ile aske my wife that question, wife, Mistrs Iane Hoord!

Sir? would you with me.

I would but know sweet wife, which might stād best to thy liking, to haue the wedding dinner kept here or ith Country?

Hum? faith sir twould like me better here, here you were married, here let all rites be ended.

Could a Marquesse giue a better answere? Hoord beare thy head aloft, thou'st a wife will aduance it, what haste comes here now? yee a letter: some dregge of my Aduersaries malice: come hether, whats the newes!

A thing that concernes my Mistris sir.

Why then it concernes me knaue?

I and you knaue too, (cry your worshippe mercy) you are both like to come into trouble I promise you sir, a praecon­tract

How a praecontract sayst thou?

I feare they haue too much proofe on't sir, old Lucre he runs mad vp and downe and will to lawe as fast as he can, yong Wit-good layde hold on by his creditors, hee exclaymes vpon you a tother side, saies you haue wrought his vndoing, by the in­iurious detayning of his contract.

Body a me?

Alasse his creditors so mercilesse, my state beeing yet vncertaine, I deeme it not vnconscionable to furder him.

True sir—

Wife, what saies that letter let me construe it.

Wife—

A prety shift yfaith, I commend a woman when shee can make away a letter from her husband handsomely, and this was cleanely done by my troth.

Of what force? let me ezamine e'm.

Too strong I feare, would I were well free'd of him.

Shall I compound?

Where? how? deere wife.

Hee is now caught by his creditors, the slaue's needie, his debts petty, hee'le rather binde himselfe, to all inconuenien­ces then rot in pryson, by this onely meanes you may get a re­lease from him, 'tis not yet come to his Vncles hearing, send speedily for the creditors, by this time hee's disperate, hee'le set his hand to any thing, take order for his debts, or discharge e'm quite, a pax on him, lets be rid of a raskall.

Excellent, thou dost astonish mee, go, runne, make hast, [Page] bring both the creditors and Wit-good hether.

This will be some reuenge yet.

In the meane space Ile haue a release drawne-within there.

Sir.

Sirrah, come take derictions, goe to my Scriuener.

What would you with me now, my Vncles spitefull aduersary.

Nay I am friends,

I when your mischeifes spent.

I heard you were arrested.

Wel, what then? you wil pay none of my debts I am sure.

Out you penurious slaue.

Shall I remember thee of an other promise far stronger then the first.

Ide faine knowe that.

Twould call shame to thy cheeks.

Shame.

Harke in your ear.—will hee come of thinkst thou, and pay my Debts roundly.

Doubt nothing, theres a Release a drawing and all to which you must set your hand.

Excellent.

But mee thinkes ifaith you might haue made some [Page] shift to discharge this your selfe, hauing in the morgage, and ne­uer haue burdned my conscience with it.

A my troth I could not, for my creditors cruelties ex­tend to the present.

No more,—why do your worst for that, I defie you.

Y'are impudent, ile call vp witnesses.

Call vp thy wits for thou hast beene deuoted to follies a long time.

Wife, y'are too bitter? Maister Wit-good, and you my Maisters, you shal heare a milde speech come from me now, and this it is, tas beene my fortune, Gentlemen, to haue an extraordi­nary blessing powr'd vpon me alate, and here she stands, I haue wedded her and bedded her, & yet she is little the worse, some foolish wordes shee hath past to you in the Country, and some peeuish debts you owe here in the Citty, set the Hares head to the Goose—giblet, release you her of her words, and ile release you of your debts sir:

Would you so, I thanke you for that sir, I cannot blame you ifayth.

Why are not debts better then words sir?

Are not words promises, and are not promises debts sir.

He plaies at back-Racket with me.

Come hether Maister Wit-good come hether, be rulde by fooles once:

We are Cittizens and know what belong toote.

Take hold of his offer pax on her, let her goe, if your debts were once discharg'd, I would helpe you to a widdow my selfe worth ten of her.

Masse partner and now you remember mee on't, there's Maister Muligrubs sister newly falne a widdow.

Cuds mee, as pat as can be, there's a widdow left for you, ten thousand in mony, beside Plate, Iewells et caetera I warrant it a match, wee can do all in all with her, prethee dispatch weele carry thee to her presently.

My Vncle wi [...]l nere endure me, when he shall heare I set my hand to a release:

Harke, ile tell thee a Trick for that, I haue spent fiue hun­dred pound in suites in my time, I should be wise, thou it now a [Page] prisoner, make a release, takte of my worde, whatsoeuer a man makes as long as he is in durance, tis nothing in lawe, not thus much.

Say you so sir?

I haue payde for't I know't.

Proceede then, I consent.

Why wel sayde:

How now my Maisters, what haue you done with him?

With much a doe sir, we haue got him to consent.

Ah—a—a,— and what came his debts to now?

Some eight score od pounds sir.

Nau, nau, nau, nau, naw, tell me the second time, giue me a lighter somme, they are but desperate debts you know, neere cald in but vpon such an accident, a poore needy knaue hee would starue and rot in prison, come, come, you shall haue ten shillings in the pound and the somme downe roundly—

You must make it a marke sir,—

Go too then, tell your mony in the meane time, you shall finde little lesse there,—come Maister Wit-good you are so vnwil­ling to do your selfe good now, welcome honest Scriuener, now you shall heare the release read,—

Be it known, to al men by these presents, that I Theodorus Wit-good, Gentleman, sole Nephew to Pecunious Lucre, hauing vniustly made title and claime, to one Iane Medler, late widdow of Anthory Medler, and now wife to Walkadine Hoord, in con­sideration of a competent som of mony to discharge my debts, do for euer hereafter disclaime any title, right, estate, or interest in or to the sayd widdow late in the occupation of the sayd An­thony Medler, and now in the occupation of Walkadine Hoord, as also neither to laye claime, by vertue of any former contract, grant, promise or demise, to any of her Mannor, Mannorhouses, Parkes, Groues, Meadow-grounds, arrable lands, Barnes, stacks, Stables, Doue-holes, and Cunny-borrowes, togither with al her cattell, money, plate, iewells, borders, chaines, bracelets, furni­tures, hangings, moueables, or immouerables in wittnesse wher­of I the sayd Theodorus Wit-good, haue enterchangeably set to my hand and seale before these presents, the daie, & date aboue written.

What a pretious fortune hast thou slipt here like a beast as thou art?

Come, vnwilling heart come.

Oh as vaine a thing as can bee, you cannot commit a greater absurdity sir,—so, so, giue mee that hand now, before al these presents I am friends for euer with thee.

Troth, and it were pit [...]y of my heart now, if I should beare you any grudge yfaith.

Content, ile send for thy Vncle against the wedding dinner, we will be friends once agen.

I hope to bring it to passe my selfe sir?

How now? ist right my masters?

Tis somthing wanting sir, yet it shall be sufficient.

Why well sayd, a good conscience makes a fine showe now a daies, come my Maisters you shall all—tast of my wine ere you depart.

We follow you sir?

Ile try these fellowes now, —a word sir, what will you carry me to that widdow now?

Why do you thinke we were in earnest yfaith? carry you to a rich widdow, wee should get much credit by that; a noted Rioter a contemptible prodigall, twas a Trick we haue amongst vs, to get in our mony, fare you well sir.

Farewell and be hangd, you short-pig-hayrde Ram-head­ed raskalls, he that beleeues in you, shall nere be sau'd I warrant him, by this new league, I shall haue some accesse vnto my loue —

Maister Wit-good?

My life.

Meete me presently, that note directs you, I would not be suspected our happinesse attends vs, farewell?

A words ynough.

Trahe, traheto, drawe the Curtaine, giue mee a sippe of Sack more.

Looke you, did not I tell you he lay like the deuill in chaines, when he was bound for a thousand yeare.

But I thinke the deuill had no steele Bedstaffes, he goes beyond him for that.

Nay doe but marke the conceite of his drincking, one must wipe his mouth for him with a muckinder, do you see sir.

Is this the sick trampler, why he is onely bed-red with drincking.

True sir, he spies vs.

What? sir Tristram? you come and see a weake man here, a very weake man,—

If you be weake in body, you should be strong in prayer sir.

Oh, I haue pray'd too much poore man.

There's a tast of his soule for you.

Fah, loathsome?

I come to borrow a hundred pound of you sir.

Ha, ha, ha.

Out you gernatiue queane, the mullipood of villany, the Spinner of concupiscency.

Yee gentlemen are you here before vs? how is hee now?

Faith the same man still, the Tauerne bitch has bit him ith head.

Wee shall haue the better sport with him, peace, and how cheeres Maister Dampit now?

Oh, my bosome sir Lancelot, how cheere I? thy pre­sence is restoratiue:

But I heare a great complaint of you Maister Dampit, among gallants.

I am glad of that ifayth; —prethee what?

They say you are waxte proud alate, and if a friend visit you in the after-noone, you'le scarce know him.

Fie, fie, proud? I cannot remember any such thing, sure I was drunck then.

Thinke you so sir?

There twas ifayth, nothing but the pride of the Sack and so certifie e'm, fetch Sack sirrah.

A vengeance Sack you once.

Why Maister Dampit if you hold on as you begin, and lie a little longer, you neede not take care how to dispose your wealth, you'le make the Vintner your heire.

Out you babliaminy, you vnfetherd cremitoryed queane, you cullisance of scabiofity.

Good words Maister Dampit, to speake before a maide and a virgin.

Hang thy virginity, vpon the pole of carnality.

Sweete tearmes, my Mistris shall know e'm.

Note but the misery of this vsuring slaue, here hee lies like a noysome dunghill, full of the poyson of his druncken blasphemies, and they to whome he bequeathes all, grudge him the very meate that feedes him, the very pillow that eases him, here may a vsurer behold his end, what profits it to be a slaue in this world, and a deuil ith next.

Sir Lancelot? let me busse thee sir Lancelot, thou art the onely friend that I honor and respect.

I thanke you for that Maister Dampit.

Farewell my bosome sir Lancelot.

Gentlemen, and you loue mee, let mee step behinde you, and one of you fall a talking of me to him.

Content—Maister Dampit.

So sir.

Here came sir Lancelot to see you e'en now.

Hang him raskall.

Who sir Lancelot.

Pythagoricall raskall.

Pythagoricall?

I he changes his cloake when he meetes a Sergiant.

What a rogues this?

I wonder you can raile at him sir, he comes in loue to see you.

A louse for his loue, his father was a Combe-maker, I haue no neede of his crawling loue, hee comes to haue longer day, the superlatiue raskall:

Sfoote I can no longer endure the rogue, Maister Dampit, I come to take my leaue once agen sir?

Who? my deere and kinde Sir Lancelot? the onely Gen­tleman of England, let me hug thee, farewell and a thousand.

Composde of wrongs and slauish flatteries.

Nay Gentlemen, he shall show you more Tricks yet, ile giue you another tast of him:

I'st possible?

His memory is vpon departing.

Another cup of Sack.

Masse then twill be quite gon: before he drinke that, tell him theres a cuntry client come vp, and here attends for his Learned aduice,

Inough.

One Cup more, and then let the Bell toale, I hope I shall be weake inough by that time.

Maister Dampit.

Is the Sack spouting.

Tis comming forward sir,—heres a countryman a cli­ent of yours, waytes for your deepe and profound aduice sir.

A cockscombry? where is he? let him approch, set me vp a pegge higher.

You must draw nere sir.

Now good-man fooleaminy, what say you to me now

Please your good worship, I am a poore man sir.—

What make you in my Chamber then?

I would entreate your worships deuice in a iust and honest cause sir.—

I meddle with no such matters, I refer e'm, to Maister No-mans Office.

I had but one house left me in all the world sir which was my fathers, my Grand-fathers, my great Grandfathers, and now a Villaine has vniustly wrung me out, and tooke possessi­on out.

Has he such feates? thy best course is to bring thy eiec­tione firme, and in Seauen yeare thou mayst shoue him out by the Law.

Alasse, ant please your worship, I haue small friends and lesse mony.

Hoyda, this geere will fadge well, hast no money, why then my aduice is thou must set fire ath house & so get him out.

That will breake strife indeed,

I thanke your worship for your hot Counsell sir.— altring but my voyce alitle, you see he knew me not, you may obserue by this that a drunkards memory, holds longer in the voyce then in the person, but Gentlemen shall I show you a sight, behold the litle diue-dapper of Damnation, Gulfe the vsurer, for his time worse then tother.

What's he comes with him?

Why Hoord, that maried lately the widdowe medler.

Oh, I cry you mercy sir.

Now gentlemen visitants? how dos maister Dampit?

faith here hee lies e'n drawing—in sir, good canary as fast as hee can sir, a very weake creature truely, hee is almost past memory.

Fie Maister Dampit: you lie lazing a bed here, and I come to enuite you to my wedding dinner, vp, vp, vp.

Whose this maister Hoord! who hast thou married in the name of foolery.

A rich widdow.

A Duch widdow.

A ritch widdow,—one widdow medler.

Medler she keepes open house.

She did I can tell you in her tother husbands dayes, open house for all comers, horse and man was welcome, and Roome inough for em all.

Theres to much for thee then, thou mayst let out some to thy Neighbours.

What? hung a liue in chaynes O Spectacle, bed staffs of steele, O monstrum, horrendum, Informe, Ingens cui Lumen ademptum, O Dampit, Dampit, heres a Iust iudgment, showne vpon vsury, extortion, and trampling Villany.

This exlent, theefe rayles vpon the Theefe.

Is this the end of cut throate Vsury, Brothell, and blasphemy? now maist thou see what Race a Vsu­rer runnes.

Why thou Rogue of vniuersality, do not I know thee? thy Sound is like the cuckowe, the welch Embassador, thou cowardly slaue that offers to fight with a sicke man when his weapons downe: rayle vpon me in my naked bed? why thou great Lucifers litle vicar, I am not so weake but I know a knaue at first sight, thou Inconscionable Raskall, thou that goest vpon middlesex Iuryes, and will make hast to giue vp thy verdit, be­cause thou wilt not loose thy dinner, are you answered?

Ant twere not for shame.—

Thou wouldst be hangd then.

Nay you must exercize patience Maister Gulfe, alwayes in a sick-mans Chamber.

'Heele quarrell with none I warrant you, but those that are bedred.

Let him come Gentlemen, I am arm'd, reach my closse stoole hether.

Here wilbe a sweet fraie anon, Ile leaue you gentlemen.

Nay wel'e a long with you, Maister Gulfe.

Hang him vsuring raskall.

Push, set your Strenght to his, your wit to his.

Pray Gentlemen depart, his howers come vpon him, sleepe in my bosome, sleepe.

A litle thing would make me beat him, now he's asleep.

You ouer-rule me gentlemen ifaith.

I shall haue great ioy there, when he has borne away the widdow.

Whats nothing so sir, is not he maried to the widdow.

No by my troth is he not Vncle.

How?

Will you haue the truth out, he is married to a whore ifaith.

I should laugh at that.

Vncle, let me perish in your fauour if you find it not so and that tis I that haue married the honest woman.

Ha? Ide walke ten mile a foot to see that ifaith.

And see'te you shall, or Ile nere see you agen.

A Queane ifaith? ha, ha, ha.

Pup, pup, pup, pup, I like not this wine, is there neuer a better Teirs in the house.

Yes sir, there are as good Teirs in the house, as any are in England.

Desire your mistris you knaue, to tast e'm all ouer, she [...] has better Skill.

Has she so, the better for her▪ and the worse for you.

Arthur, is the cupbard of plate set out,

Al's inorder sir.

I am in loue with my Liueryes euery time I thinke on e'm, they make a gallant show by my troth.—Neece.

Do you call sir?

Prethee show a litle diligence, and ouer-looke the knaues a litle, theile filtch and steale to day and send whole pas­ties home to their wiues, and thou bee'st a good Neece, do not see me purloynd.

Feare it not sir, I haue cause, tho the feast bee prepared for you, yet it serues fit for my wedding dinner too.

Maister Lamprey, and Maister Spichcocke two the most welcome gentlemen aliue, your fathers and mine were all free a [...]h Fishmongers.

They were indeed sir, you see bould guestes sir, soone intreated

And thats best sir—how now sirrah?

Ther's a coach come to'th doore sir.

My Ladie Foxestone a my life. Mistris Iane Hoord, wife, masse tis her Ladyship indeed, Madame you are welcome to an vnfurnisht house, dearth of cheere, scarcsity of attendance.

You are pleasd to make the worst sir.

Wife.

Is this your Bride.

Yes Maddam salute my Lady Foxtone.

Please you Madam a while to tast the ayre in the garden?

Twill please vs well.

So we bachilers thinke that are not troubled with them

Your worships brother with an other antient Gentle­man, are newly allighted Sir.

Maister Onesiphorus Hoord, why now our company be­gins to come in: my deere and kind brother welcome ifaith.

You see we are men at an hower brother.

I, Ile say that for you brother you keepe as good an hower to come to a feast, as any Gentleman in the Sheere▪ what ould Maister Limber and Maister Kicks, doe wee meete ifaith Iolly Gentlemen?

We hope you lack guesse sir?

Oh welcome, welcome, wee lack still such guesse as your worships.

Ah sirrah brother, haue you catcht vp widdow Medler.

From e'm all brother, and I may tell you, I had mighty enemies, those that stuck sore, old Lucre is a sore foxe I can tell you brother.

Where is she, ile go seeke her out, I long to haue a smack at her lips.

And most wishfully brother see where she comes, giue her a smerck now we may heare it all the house ouer.

Oh heauen, I am betrayde, I know that face.

Ha, ha, ha, why how now? are you both a shamde? come Gentlemen, weele looke another way—

Nay Brother, harke you, come y'are disposde to be mer­rie?

Why do we meete else man?

That's another matter, I was nere so fread in my life but that you had beene in earnest.

How meane you brother?

You sayd she was your wife?

Did I so? by my troth and so she is.

By your troth Brother?

What reason haue I to dissemble with my friends, bro­ther, if marriage can make her mine, she is mine? why?

Troth I am not well of a suddaine? I must craue pardon brother, I came to see you, but I cannot stay dinner yfaith.

I hope you will not serue mee so brother.

By your leaue Maister Hoord.

What now? what now? pray Gentlemen, you were wont to show your selues wisemen.

But you haue showne your folly too much here.

How?

This growes too deepe pray let vs reach the sence.

In your old age doate on a Curtizan—

Ha?

Marry a Srumpet?

Gentlemen!

And Wit-goods queane:

Oh, nor Lands, nor liuing?

Liuing?

Speake?

Out, out, I am cheated, infinitely couzned.

Nay Master Hoord:

A dutch widdow, a dutch widdow, a dutch widdow:

Why Nephew shall I trace thee still a lier? wilt make mee mad is not yon thing the widdow.

Why la, you are so hard a beleefe Vncle, by my troth she's a whore.

Then thou'rt a knaue:

Negatur Argumentum Vncle.

Probo tibi, Nephew: Hee that knowes a woman to bee a queane must needes bee a knaue, thou sayst thou knowst her to bee one, ergo if shee bee a queane thou'rt a knaue:

Negatur, sequela maioris, Vncle, hee that knowes a wo­man to be a queane, must needes be a knaue, I deny that.

Lucre, and Wit-good, y'are both villaines, get you out of my house:

Why didst not inuite me to thy wedding dinner?

And are not you and I sworne perpetuall friends before wittnesse sir, and were both drunck vpon't.

Daintily abusde y'aue put a Iunt vpon me:

Ha, ha, ha:

A common strumpet?

Nay now you wrong her sir▪ if I were shee ide haue the lawe on you for that, I durst depose for her, shee nere had com­mon vse, nor common thought.

Brother?

Alasse sir, I was prick tin conscience to see her well bestowd▪ and where could I bestowe her beter then vpon your pittifull worship: excepting but my selfe, I dare sweare shees a Virgin, and now by marrying your Neece I haue banisht my selfe for euer from her, she's mine Aunt now by my faith, and theres no Medling with mine Aunt you know, a sinne against my Nuncle.

A, heres a lesson Rioter for you.