Actus Primus Scena Prima.

Why then up-with your bag; and baggage, and to Saint Maries presently the Priest stayes, the Clarke whynes to say A­men! and for th'officiall schollers love butterd loaves, an Angell will perswade him to consent, we that live by the sinnes of the [Page] people may dispense with veniall toyes.

Thou art merry still.

Faith, and shalbe as long as I keepe me out of Cupids mannacles, doost heare Lover? take her now thou hast her i'th vaine trust not we wenches, theirs asmuch truth in us, as in Knightes o'th post; if she sweare love to day, shee'le unsweare it to morrow with a safe conscience; stand not shall I shall I, take me her to have, and to hold, and if eyther of you repent your bargaine within a twelue-month—

VVhat then!

Then you shall fetch no Bacon at Dunmowe; we young wenches in our loves are like Lapwinges, if once we creepe out o'th shells, we run from out ould loves like Scopperells, weomens minds are planetary, and amble as fast as Virginalls Iackes, if you stop 'em not in true time, you marre all your musique. See heres your Fathers.

Well said ould cocke, would thy spurrs were new rowell'd that thou mightst picke out his eyes.

I thought the wind was in that doore; by my virginity a young wench were better be heire to a swine-heards chines, then a rich mans bagges! we must be coupld in wed-locke like your Barbary horse, and Spanish Gennet, for breede sake, house to house, and land to land, the devill a jot of love? poore simple virginity, that us'd to be our best Dowry is now growne as bare as a serving-mans cloake that has not had a good nap this seven yeeres.

Well Boote time may make us friends.

Weele thinke on't Bateman!

How many paire of shooes knave ha.

By Saint Hugh sir Jarvis foure thousand paire.

For every knave two paire good sauce against kyb'd heeles by my hollidam; well shod, and clad will mak'em fight like men! the North is could, subject to frostes, and snówes, and tis bad fighting without vittle, and cloth! for which I have pro­vided well for both; forty horse loades, and twently Carrs of vittle, twill stop a good breach in a souldiours belly! my man shall pay thee huffit; my Hollidam! my old Neighbour rich Boote, and Bateman, is this brabling matter ended yet! shall he have her, by my Hollidam not yet, the knave shall serve his Queene first, see the warres, where twill do him good to see [Page] knocks passe as fillips, say i'st done?

Faith sir trading as other knaves doe! sir yonders the Tailor the Weaver, and I the Miller.

My Hollidam knaves all three! put me a Tailor, a Wea­ver, and a Miller into a bag.

And what then sir?

Why he that first comes out will be a knave.

Vnder correction sir put me a Justice of peace, an Officiall, an under Sherriffe into a bag.

And what then knave?

Why, and they will not come out, let em'tarry their like knaves as they are.

What a knave is this.

Sir heres two more appeares! th'one is mad Ball old Huffus man, tho'ther may be a knave in graine for any thing I know i'me sure hees much given to colours hees a Painter­stainer.

Y'are both pres'd, and willing to serve the Queene.

I am bend leather, and will endure it.

My name is Marmaduke Ioshua a Painter-stainer by Art, and a limner by profession? I am given to the meanes, and doe fructifie among the brethren, it were obnoxious, and inutiable, and contrary to the sages to presse me.

Weele see how you can edifie our Campe.

For the sistren commisserate.

Come my old neighbours, let our Drum beat a free march weele have a health to Queene Besse, cry S ^t. George, and a fig for S ^t. Dennis.

Mistris Vrsula, tis not unknowne that I have lov'd you; [Page] if I die, it shall be for your sake, and it shall be valiantly; I leave an hand-kercher with you, tis wrought with blew coven­try; let me not at my returne fall to my old song, she had a clout of mine sow de with blew coventry, and so hang my selfe at your infidelity; desiring Jove to blesse you from better for­tunes I leave you.

The foole doates, but tis no matter, tis no matter, tis Lady like why should not I have my Monkey to play withall?

Prethee leave us.

Heavens blesse me out of your company, for fooles I found you, and so I must leave you in spite of my hart.

Lord Claud. Hambleton fourth son of the Duke, Robert Dowglasse brother to the Lord James Stuart! Archibald Dow­glasse Lord of Loughennell George Gram second son to the Earle of Menteich; James Coningham son to the Earle of Glencorne; all Hostages to the Queene of England till the Ar­ticles be performed betwixt her, and the Federary Lordes. Herald of Armes conduct these noble pledges from the Red Brayes to Inskeith, see'em delivered to James Croft, and George Howard Knights from thence to be embarqd for England.

To prevent which each stand on his guard; your eares my Lord.

Resolve me; doe they kill men ith warrs, and ne're give warning.

Not so much time Io! as a theife has at Nottingham Gallowes.

Tirany, tirany; may a not pray insincerity nor request the breethren, and sisters to have care of a departing brother.

No Io! nothing but downe-right blowes, just as you fell Okes, or kill Oxen.

Most heathenish, and diabollicall; and do the shoote Bullets.

I Io, as thicke as haile a man may hit his owne father.

Oh Infidells, and Barbarians; what will not the wicked doe, kill men with bullets! oh these Guns, they are dangerous things they sprung from the whoore, a Fryer was the inventor, and the smell of the Dragon! oh my poore Pusse-cat; sinfull man thou art Io: to bring the poore Pusse forth to dy by a Gun! a poore Pusse, silly harmelesse Pusse.

Ty her behind, then if thou runst shee may save thee.

I run! thou prophane translater I scorne to run, my Car, and I will enter battell 'gainst the wicked! I run.

Why returne so soone.

By my Hollidam juglers, constant in nothing but Inconstancy, thats the French Merchandize.

And doe they fight, as it is in the painted cloth, of the nine worthies, of Ioshua, Hector, Caesar, Arthur, Charle-Magne, Iudas, Machabeus, and Godfrey Bollogine.

Do'st thou not beleeve it?

Let me faile of my best wishes, and I doe, I cannot amuse my thoughts to't, thou maist as soone perswade me that a Spiders VVeb will catch a swarme of Bees as thou marry Ger­man! his head's like a Weloh-mans Crest on St. Davies day? he lookes like a hoary Frost in December, now Venus blesse me, i'de rather ly by a Statue?

Thou wrests a good text to an ill sense? but none but fooles would ly in beds of snow that might couch in Roses? but it may bee Cozen; but it may bee Cuz? you follow the fashion of our Country Knights that marry your old London VVidowes; tis but keeping a handsome Chamber-maide, they are necessary evills, and will serve with a small Dowery afterwards to make parsons wives! you know my meaning Cuz.

He brings wealth, promotion, and tis the way.

To your ruine; to your blacke father presently? cocke him with the herbe Moly that will put bloud in's cheekes? let him be dieted like your Barbary horse? heele neere stand to his tacklings else? feede him with Vipers flesh that will make his white head blacke? doost thou refuse youthfull Bateman to ly with wealthy Germane, reject a Mine of vertue, for a Mountaine of muck? Cupid blesse thee, for i'le sweare, he has blinded thee as blind as a Bat.

If I beleeve thee not; may I turne Nun before my pro­bation? to be serious let me touch thy conscience? if young Bateman to whom I know tha'st vow'd thy faith? should at thy falsehood fall into some malevolencies in himselfe, or on thee; t'wood greive thee to have Ballads made on thee, to the tune of the inconstant Lover, and have thy periuries pind on e­uery Post?

Conscience, pray no more o'nt?

No introth for I thinke tha'st asmuch pleasure in't? as a hangd man has of his pardon, or a Dog with a Glasse bottle at's taile? see heres thy father, with him the man that must be, not the fore-man o'th Parish, but a bucke o'th first head.

My lovely Germane?

My fairest Mistris?

If I had not rather Kisse a muffe made of Cats-skins, then these mouldy chops of his, wood I might die an An­choresse.

Now neece whats your conceit of this?

Faith Vncle i'me a woman? and they say a woman is a wether-Cocke for mine owne part some are I thinke? and when I thinke they are not i'le tell you my conceit, till then i'le pay you with thinking.

Which as a blessing from the heavens I take.

You shall be marryed instantly! and Girle thou shalt have one Bagg more for this, it gladdes me yet, thou art so free from Bateman. I look'd for other demonstrations! come German this night wee'le feast, to morrow thou shalt be wedd, At night enfold a maiden in thy bed.

Which if he does, may she dy of the pip, and goe to the grave as a Sallet for the wormes.

Actus secundus Scena Prima.

And they be Foxes we may smell'em out? for as it is in the painted cloath? by fortune came a Fox where grew a pleasant Vine I will no Grapes said the Fox, the fruit is none of mine.

Fellow Bateman farwell commend me to my old wind­mill at Rudington, oh the Mooter dish, the Millers thumbe and the maide behinde the Hopper? tell mistresse Vrsula I fight for her sake, and will live as long as I can dy when I can no longer live, yet will love her in spight of her hart, in stead of nutmeggs, and ginger, I send her the three bawbees I got at Dundee. I will fly on her at my returne with the verses out of new Hero, and Leander, oh Vrsula, Vrsula pity me with a dildo, dildo, dillory?

Commend me to the Bells of S. Maries, and tell'em my Chops water to chime all in?

As it is in the painted cloath, in morning still when thou doost rise see that in minde thou have to spend the day that doth ensue as bed might be thy Grave; commend me to my learned brother Spritchall the Cobler of Notingham brig? and bid him looke up, and give me a coale, wishing him good health, as my cat, and I was at the making hereof?

I will be mindfull of you all farewell.

Now is the time make your appearance?

Shoote shoote.

An the bred an g [...]d man speare the bonny lasses.

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Downe with the bonny Bels?

Have some compunction th'are the weaker Vessels for as it is in the painted cloath, be meeke, and gentle, and thy selfe shall finde a quiet conscience, and a tranquill minde.

By'th masse a prety boote halling, hansome pagies each one take one, and examine the prickers?

Thy counsels smels of piety? and thus I begin the con­version of a sinner!—um—she Kisses well verily againe I will edifie on your lips—are you of the Family of Love sister—ha—

An the beanes of me ise a pure lurden?

And what are you prety morsell.

An the dele an the crag ise a Lardes wife ganging to seeke my Lourden;

And you are ganging to your Lurden, that your Lurden may catch you by the crag, and claw you are the weame, till your guts garr haggergath, haggergath.

VVill you be contented to leave the wicked, and live among the familists, exercising your body in the brether-hoods cause?

An the Lard nare thee with an my bare bones.

Kisse againe then—in sincerity she Kisses open mouthed like a zealous sister—

And you can wash, and scoure, and helpe to launder the campe, and dresse the booties we steale, and at night be con­tent to Kennell with me in straw.

I by Saint Andrew?

Let us congregate our selves, and ponder on their miseries.

Now is the time each man draw, and fight.

By my Hollidam; our meeting will seeme rough our parting faire? make this thy quarrell, I pronounce thy Queene defective in beauty, vertues, honours, unto my mistris, Englands royall BESSE?

VVith such an overture, but thy barbarous head nothing can calme it?

Good VVives, VVidowes, and young wenches, pardon me, for I am touched in conscience to raile on my owne sexe, I blame not those mysogynifts that say women are froward in­constant, and what not; I protest I begin to mistrust mine owne thoughts, I'am quite out of love with all womens good­nes? fie upon us weather-cocks, of all things sublunary the worst of creatures, we painted sepulchers, rotten braveries, silly Ciphers untill mens figures supply us, and yet we cannot render 'em a constant minute; all this is manifest in my new Bride, she that yesterday gave faith to one, the next day mar­ried another; and now married shees sicke of the sullens, shee wants youth to enflame, and give satietie a fresh appetite; fie upon us Moone Calves, and created Fooles [Page] be those men that credits us I see i'me cut off.

Sooth badly, she has beene, Planet-strucke e're since you went? she fell into a Lethargy since noone, a kind of qualme came o're her stomacke like a Crampe or a Connul­sion?

VVe had a VVedding to day, and the young fry tickle trench-more.

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I know not, for had she as many bodies as harts, she might be here, and yonder too.

Nay sweare not; if you have any ill language to spare I'le send my Cozen to you presently.

Beshrew your owne false, if their be ill tis of your owne begetting i'le provide Cocke-brothes, and caudles for your old Cock-sparow.

If you will be wise, and live one yeere a batchelour tis ten to one thats odds, I bury my husband, e're I weare out my wedding Ring.

By my virginity the Groome cryes to bed, night goes to Goast, how now another Niobe turn'd to stone, blesse me has the Conjurer bene here.

Hey day what inundations are here, will you come away, and the Groome should geld himselfe for anger there would be fine sport.

I have lost my selfe, and know not where I am!

Come, come, I have daunc'd till every joynt about me growes stiffe but that which should be! to bed wench, the groome he's out-gone thee, he's warming the sheetes the first night I faith.

Ha, weeping; this is not customary on bridall-mights, Neece who was with your Cuz too night?

[Page]

I never look'd for better end of him, he had a malevolent aspect in his lookes, ha, ha, ha!

My best counsell is that you bury him as the custome of the Country is, and drive a stacke through him; so perhaps I that had no quietnes with him whil'st he liv'd, may sleepe in peace now he's dead.

Affraid on's Ghost, as much as of a picture painted o'th wall! thats just like we fooles that rub our shins 'gainst the bed posts in our dreames, and then sweare the faries, pinchd us? he swore he would have me quicke or dead. Let him ly still in's grave I will in my bed, and let consequents prove the rest?

Actus Tertius Scena Prima.

Tis but your fond conceit; I've heard you say that dreames and visions were fabulous; and yet one time I dreamt fowle water ran through the floore, and the next day the house was on fire; you us'd to say Hobgoblins, Fairies, and the like were nothing but our owne affrightments, and ye oh my troth Cuz I once dream'd of a young batchelour, and was ridd with a Night-Mare. But come, so my conscience be cleere I never care how fowle my dreames are.

Nor I, but a blinde Buzzard lookes as like her husband as may be.

[Page]

No, no, no! you drancke Baulme, Burrage or Buglosse last night to bed-ward, that makes you thinke on your dreames this morning.

Nay sweete Jo. be persuaded.

Persuade me, I scorne to be persuaded? Ball thou art Heathnish, for the offence is foule which thou would'st cloake, I'me not to be persuaded, I will doome the creature, and burne the cloake of her knavery; yet in sincerity I will doe no­thing without good colour.

Thy colours, Jo. were better bestowed on course wait­ing women Madam Makeroones that sell paintings, and stop holes with plaister of Paris.

[Page]

Miller, Miller, thou art not mealy mouth'd; those be the Heathen bables, the May-poles of time, and Pageants of vanity, but I will convince them of error, and scoure their pollutions away with the waters of my exhortations.

Why should'st thou hang thy Cat?

Thou art saucy, Miller, & ought'st not to Cathechise me so,

And it were but for Country sake.

Sweete Jo. consider thy Cat is thy Countriman,

Hang a poore Cat for killing a Mouse?

Knowing the proverbe too, Cat after Kinde.

As it is in the painted cloath too; when the Cat's away the Mouse will play.

I, but as it is in the painted cloath, beware in time for too much patience, to Dog or Cat will breede too much offence. She did kill a Mouse, I but when? on the forbidden day, and there­fore she must die on Munday.

Then shall thy zeale be proclaim'd, for hanging thy Cat on Munday for killing a Mouse on Sunday.

Miller thou art drunke in thy enormities, and art full of the cake of iniquity.

Well, to thy execution we commit thee.

Blessed be the instruments of silence; poore Pusse take it not ill that I must hang thee, by that meanes I free thee from bawling Mastifs, and snarling Currs; I have brought thee up of a whelpe, and now will have a care of thy end.

A notable exhortation.

List to the sequell;

When thou art dead, thou shalt not curse me, for my proceedings shall be legall; thou art at the barre of my mercy, and thus I ascend to judgment, as it is in the painted cloath.

Harken the inditement.

Tybert the Cat; as it is in the painted cloath, of the Bull, and Cocke, sometimes house-keeper, drudger or scourer to Marmaduke Ioshua, Limner alias painter-stainer, & now the cor­recter or extirper of vermine, as Rats, Mice, and other waspish animalls; thou art here indited by thy deare Master Marmaduke [Page] Ioshua for breaking of the high-day, what sayst thou for thy selfe? guilty or not guilty? hah.

Would she could mew non guilty.

Know'st thou not, thou silly Cat, that thy bre­thren will not Kill the Calfe nor rost the Mutton nor boyle their flesh Pots on the high-day? was it not decree'd by our learned brother Abolt Cabbidge, Cobler of Amster­dam, that they should be held uncleane, and not worthy of the meanes that did it, and did not expect Cratchet Coole his proud flesh in the Leene for making insurrection on the high day?

A point well watred.

Did not Nadab the Sowe-gelder make a gaunt of his gelt for being cumbersome on the high-day? Ha thy silence argues guilt; hast thou not seene the whole conventicle of bro­thers, and sisters walke to St. Anns, and not so much as a fructi­fying Kisse on the high—

It seemes the elect Kisse weekely.

And must thou kill a Mouse? oh thou wicked Cat; could'st not turne up the white of the eie for the poore creature? thou gluttonous Cat, thou art now arraigned, I adjudge thee to be hanged this munday, for killing a Mouse yesterday being the high-day.

Stay, stay, a pardon, a pardon!

I am hot in my zeale, and fiery in expedition,

Wee'le talke with you hereafter.

I was executing a point of justice, equity, and conscience,

A pleasant Tragecomedy, the Cat being scap't, What Trumpets this?

Softly, softly; fie on your creaking shooes, what noise they make; shut the Dores close, it does not here us a jot, looke well to the Darneicke Hangings, that it play not the Court Page with us.

Heer's not so much as a shaddow to affright us, for mine owne part neyther Incubus nor Sucubus can do't; I feare not what a quicke thing can doe, and I thinke y'ore dead things are too quiet to say any harme

Whom talkes he too? my life Coz, he has a ghost too! Yet I see nothing.

[Page]

Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.

The like on your allegiance to Mary Dowager of France, and Queene of Scots, we doe commend.

Now we have beaten them out of the Towne, they come To composition.

Lord, lord, what pretty impes you are in your majorities!

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Is it a man-child Mother Pratle?

No in-sooth gossip Mag-py it is one of us, heavens blesse thee babie, and a well appointed impe it is.

See how it smiles.

That's a signe of anger, t'will be a shrow I lay my life.

No, no, Mistris Barren, an Infant smileing, and a Lambes bleateing is a signe of fertility it is so in Artimedorus; you frown'd when you were borne, and thats the reason you are so sterill; Artimedorus saith so in his fourth booke.

VVhat pretty dimples it has!

Fathers none nyes.

None nose.

Smooth fore-head!

Cherry lip!

Had it bene man-child, their had bene three evident signes of an whoremaster; a Roman Nose, Cherry Lip, and a bald Pare, for so Artimedorus in his Problems.

VVell, well, whosoever got it, 'tis as like none father as an Apple to a Nut, insooth Gossip Pratle it is.

It smiles still! sure it was begot in a merry houre.

Then I was got in a merry vaine; for prais'd be to me­mory my Mother said I hung the lip at my nativity.

Lord Mother Pratle doe the Modernes report soe?

I surely Gossip Mag-py, and it is a great signe of frugality if the Starrs, and Planets be concordant, for saith Artime­dorus; if it be borne under Venus, it will be faire as you are, if under Sol, Rich as you are, and if under Mer­curie.

Good Mother Pratle what is that god Mercury? is it he that makes the white Mercury waters, Ladies scoure their faces withall!

I surely Gossip, and stop their wrinckles with too, and saith Artimedorus, in his third booke of his Modernes, if borne under Castor, and Pollux, store of children.

Caster, and Bollux?

You speake broad Gossip, 'tis Pollux.

[Page]

VVhy Bollux be it then; surely Barren was not borne under Bollux, for she has bene married this seven yeares, and never had childe,

By your favour Gossip Mag-py, you were borne under Caster, and Bollux then, for you had two children before you weare married.

Insooth Gossip, she has given you a veny; Good lacke mistris Vrsula, where have you negotiated Your selfe; you should have bene present, and have Negotiated your selfe about the Maxims, and principles Of child-bearing; what? you had a Mother?

And a Father too, Mother mid-night.

No matter for the father; we talke of the surer side, you may be sure to know your mother, when your mother hardly knowes your father; 'tis a very facetious point, as Artime­dorus in his booke of dreames sets it downe.

Here comes my Vncle.

Off with your hat sir, you come not here without re­verence, see if the little infidell smile not on him, busse, busse, it.

Heavens blesse the babe! what wares beare my Little infidell?

Blesse the baby, it has sufficient if it live to be of the sages.

I meane carries it an English Pen, and Inke-horne Or a dutch watch tankerd?

Blesse the baby—it has—ey marry has it!

Is it a boy, has it a purse, and two pence in't?

Blesse the baby, it has a purse, and no money in't yet, but it may have, and it please the destinies.

A purse, and no money, by S ^t Antony I thought the groome went drunke to bed, he stole too't so early—

Looke how it smiles.

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You have some private occasions i'me not to question Neece bring the groaning cheece, and all requisites, I must supply the fathers place, and bid god-fathers.

Blesse us daughter say not so! I hope you will not part in a trance, nor steale away in a qualme; come, come what should be your reason?

Nothing but a dreame.

An't be a dreame, let me come too it; was it a sor­rowfull dreame? Artimedorus saith there be divers kinde of meates engender dreames; as Beanes, long Peason-Lentills, Cole-worts, Garlicke, Onions, and the like; Leekes, Ches-Nuts, and other opening Rootes, as Rad-dish, Carrets, Skirrets, Parsenips; now there is some flesh is provoca­tive too; as the Hart, the Bore, the ould Hare, and Beefe; and then of fowles, as the Crane, Ducke, Drake, Goose, and Bustard; if you tasted any of these they will engender dreames.

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But a very true one; looke you Artimedorus in his third booke of his Moderns saith to dreame of Flowers is very good to a woman in child-bed; it argues she shall soone enjoy her husband; to walke on the Seas specifies to a man, delight, but to a woman a dissolute life, for the Sea is like a harlot, a glicery face, and a broken heart. Come, come, doe you sleepe? wee'le watch; by this good drinke; Gossip Mag-py, I was almost dry.

Lay the babe by me that I may Kisse it;

So, so, she sleepes, come sit round, and lets have a Carrouse to the litle infidell.

I marry sir this is a silent houre, their teeth will not let [Page] their tongues wag. VVell drunck Mother mid-night, now will she sweare by this VVine, till she soke the Pot were it a fathome deepe.

By this good liquor, it is so.

Here's sweete swearing, and deepe vowes, she goes to'th bottome at every oath.

And I'faith Gossip Long-tongue when peipes the Onion out o'th parsley-bed, when shalls come to your feast?

Truely Gossip Mag-py when Caster, and Bollux raignes.

Sweete Mother Pratle what be those Castor, and Bollux?

Twinns daughter that rule most the signe being in Virgo, looke you Gossip Barren, could you once dreame of sore eies you should be sure of children?

Good sooth Mother Pratle, the first time I dream'd, I was with child I got a husband presently.

By this dyet-bread Artimedorus saith so; marke Mistris Vrsula, to dreame to have Lyce, eyther in head or body, in some quantity signifies a proper man well appointed; and by this drinke I dream'd my husband when he came first a woing; came i'th liknes of a Kentish twindle Pippen; that is just, as if two stones grew together, no sooner was I married, but I had two sonnes presently just as Artimedorus saith by this diet-bread.

They have sworne all the VVine, and Banquet away.

I know not what your twindles are, but i'me sure I ten­der Castor, and Bollux as dearely as any of you; I cannot dreame, heigho—

You begin to be sleepy; I can prescribe you a medi­cine of Poppy, Mandragora, and other drowsy Sirrops; heida all a sleepe? if my charge sleepes, let me rest, for by this drinke i'me heavy too—

I have slept this houre, how, d'yee cozen? ha? cozen, here; ay me, where, alas no where, ay me she's gon, she's gon.

Dispatch every one severall waies some to th'feilds some to'th water-side; las 'tis but a fit, twill be over presently—away away severally.

What meanes this noise! how comes my doores open at this time o'th night; I hope my daughters well,

Actus Quintus, Scena Prima.

The Articles thus followe, The most mighty Princesse Elizabeth by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland Queene, defendor of the faith, &c and the most Christian King, Francis, and Mary, by the same grace King, and Queene of France, and Scotland have bore Record upon a reconciliation of peace, and amity to be inviolably kept betweene them, their subjects, Kingdomes, and confines; and therefore in their names it is straitly com­manded to all manner of persons, borne under their obey­sances, [Page] or being in their services, to lay by all hostility eyther by Sea or Land, and to keepe good peace eyther with other from this time forwards, as they will answer therto, at their utmost perils; long live Elizabeth, Francis, and Mary;

See, Joshua, is enter'd, one cup of briske Orleance Makes him i'th temper he was when he leap'd into Leene.

Will he be drunke?

Most swine-like, and then by the vertue of his good li­quor hee's able to convert any Brownisticall sister.

An excellent quality!

Nay, in that moode, you shall have him, instead of pre­senting Piramus, and Thisbe, personate Cato Censorious, and his three sons, onely in one thing he's out, one of Cato's sons hang'd himselfe, and that he refer's to a dumbe show;

Me thinks he should hang himselfe for the jest sake.

As he did his Cat for killing a Mouse on Sunday, see! he has top'd the cannikin already; now will he sing treason familiarly, being sober; aske him why he did it? in sincerity, it was not he, it was his drinke.

As it is in the painted cloath, in sincerity; good liquor quickens the spirit.

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Is there any man here desires to edyfie? I am in the hu­mour of converting; I was converted in my drinke, and so are most of my bretheren; I'le stand while I am able, and then will goe sleepe on it.

Hee's gone both waies; see the French Lords, & our's enter.

Amen saith England; when France forgets her pride England will honour her,

What if it were a Puppet-play?

Absurd! absurd! thei'le be out in turning up the white of the eies, besides, ther's none of us can speake i'th nose.

Yes, Joshua;

Most abhominable! wood'st thou have a Puritan speake to a Play; a Puppet Play! thou ought'st to be burn'd for thy hereticall conceit, why thou poison'd sowter, wood'st thou have a Puritan speake to a Play? still give me the hobby-Horse.

But who shall play the hobby-Horse, Master Major?

I hope, I looke, as like a hobby-Horse as Master Major I have not liv'd to these yeares, but a man woo'd thinke I should [Page] be old enough, and wise enough, to play the hobby-Horse, as­well as ever a Major on'em all;

Not so, cholericke Miles.

Let the Major play the hobby-Horse among his bre­theren, and he will; I hope our Towne Ladds cannot want a hobby-Horse, have I practic'd my Reines my Carree'res, my Pranckers, my Ambles, my false Trotts, my smooth Ambles, and Canterbury Paces, and shall Master Major put me besides the hobby-Horse?

Thou wilt not understand me Miles!

I am an asse if I doe not; have I borrow'd the fore Horse­bells his Plumes, and braveries, nay had his mane new shorne, and frizl'd, and shall the Major put me besides the hobby-Horse? let him hobby-Horse at home, and he will!

Thou art impatient.

Woo'd it not make a man impatient; am I not going to buy ribbons, and toyes of sweet Vrsula for the Marian, and shall not I play the hobby-Horse?

Why then, let the Major speake the Oration;

Disgracefull, am not I able to make a narration to the Prince, I have plai'd a Major in my time, with as good dacity as e're a hobby-Horse on'em all; and the Major will prompt me, let him, he shall finde, i'le stand out like a man of Co­ventry.

What shall Joshua doe?

Not know of it by any meanes, hee'l keepe more stir with the hobby-Horse, then he did with the Pipers at Tedbury Bull-running; provide thou for the Dragon, and leave me for a hobby-Horse.

Feare not, i'le be a fiery Dragon,

And I a thund'ring S ^t. George as ever rode on horse­backe, but see younders sweete Vrsula, more white then soote, and blacker then white Snow.

Younder's my Antagonist; a haunts me like a ghost, [Page] 'cause I us'd to make him the prologue to be merry, he for­sooth conceits 'tis love sir reverence, why Vrsula, Neece Vrsula?

That's my uncle's call, if I staya litle, he'le fetch me in, which if he does, I may perchance harpe upon a conceit to beate this parboil'd gentlemans love out of my mealy Millers coate.

How now Master Miles, singing!

I Mistris Vrsula, a very mery lamentable dolefull new Ditty of young Bateman, and his Nan; that ever poore young gentleman should die like a bird on a Tree, for the love to a woman—for here it is in the third staff.

Mistris Vrsula I give you this as a caution to remember Bate­man, and his sweet, your cozen, looke on me, and veiw your selfe were it not pitty I should hang my selfe for love; and that you should die none knowes how?

Alas! what shall we doe? if my uncle comes, hee'le take thee for a Ghost, his braine is so fraught with distempers, and then falls he raging madd,

Sometimes hee will, so after your fit is over, I'le [Page] prescribe a remedy against love.

Passion▪ on passion! am I growne old, and odious in your eies? what no attendance Mistris!

What ailes thee woman, what's the matter? ha! why doo'st thou quake, shake, tremble, and shiver? ha!

Seeing, hearing, smelling, and sweete-tasting, Ghost, I'le thunder thee;

I, and hearing, and seeing too; and you'l let me alone i'le tell you what I am;

'Las sir I'me no Ghost, I am plaine honest Miles the Miller of Ruddington; a gentleman▪ and a Souldier,

And Miles the Miller of Ruddington gentleman, and Souldier what make you here?

Alas sir to borrow a few ribbandes, bracelets, eare-rings wyertyers, and silke girdles, and hand-kerchers for a Morice, and a show before the Queene.

Get into your hobby-horse, gallop, and be gon then, or i'le Morisdance you—Mistris waite you on me.

'Tis but a jades tricke Mistris Vrsula; but patience [Page] the enemy to greatnes is my content, and in that humour I will forrage on like the hobby-Horse.

By S ^t. Lucy Besse, I am a plaine honest Tanner, my bro­thers here, one a Shoo-maker, to'ther a Felmonger, we are all downe right toth'hide; I ha'noe Lawyers eloquence, our Recorder cannot whistle, but by the bones of sweete St. Lucy welcome, on welcome.

By S ^t. Lucy, and shall, elce i'man asse, and my bretheren Dotterells, Give reason, brother Sheeps-kin, second me for I must speake Historiography, History I should say, but these hard words cloy my stomacke, like lumpes of Bacon.

I were a Traitour elce, I woo'd not be merry with thee, Besse still welcome, and welcome;

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