THE HOGGE HATH LOST HIS PEARLE.

A Comedy.

DIVERS TIMES Publikely acted, by certaine LONDON Prentices.

By ROBERT TAILOR.

LONDON, Printed for Richard Redmer, and are to be solde at the West-dore of Paules at the signe of the Starre. 1614.

THE PROLOGVE.

OVR long time rumor'd Hogge, so often crost
By vnexpected accidents, and tost
From one house to another, still deceiuing
Many mens expectations, and bequeathing
To some lost labour, is at length got loose,
Leauing his seruile yoake-sticke to the goose,
Hath a Knights licence, and may rauage at pleasure,
Spight of all those that envy our Hogges treasure:
And thus much let me tell you, that our Swyne
Is not as diuers Crittickes did define,
Grunting at State affaires, or inuecting
Much, at our Citty vices; no, nor detecting
The pride, or fraude, in it, but were it now
He had his first birth, wit should teach him how
To taxe these times abuses, and tell some
How ill they did in running oft from home,
For to preuent (O men more hard then flint)
A matter that shall laugh at them in print:
Once to proceede in this play we were mindlesse,
Thinking we liu'd mongst Iewes that lou'd no swines flesh:
But now that troubles past, if it deserue a hisse,
(As questionlesse i [...] wil through our amisse,)
Let it be fauoured by your gentle sufferance,
Wise-men are still indu'd with patience,
Wee are not halfe so skild as strowling Players,
Who could not please heere as at Country faiers,
We may be pelted off for ought we know,
With apples, egges, or stones from thence belowe;
In which weele craue your friendship if we may,
And you shall haue a daunce worth all the play,
And if it proue so happy as to please,
Weele say tis fortunate like Pericles.

THE ACTORS NAMES.

  • Old lord VVealthy.
  • Young lord his sonne.
  • Maria his daughter.
  • Carracus and Albert,
  • two Gentlemen, nere friends.
  • Lightfoote a country Gentlem.
  • Haddit a youthfull Gallant.
  • Hogge a Vsurer.
  • Rebecka his daughter.
  • Peter Seruitude his man.
The Actors names.
  • [Page]Atlas a Porter.
  • A Priest.
  • A Player.
  • A Seruingman.
  • A Nurse.

THE HOGGE HATH lost his Pearle.

Actus primi Scena prima.

Enter Lightfoote a country gentleman passing ouer the stage and knocks at the other dore.
Lightfoote.

HOe, Whose within here?

Enter Atlas a Porter
At.

Ha ye any mony to pay you knock with such authority sir?

Li.

What if I haue not, may not a man knock without money sir?

At.

Seldome, women and Seriaunts they will not put it vp so sir.

Li.

How say you by that sir, but I prethee is not this one At­las his house a Porter?

At.

I am the rent payer thereof.

Li.

In good time sir.

At.

Not in good time, neither sir, for I am behinde with my Land-lord a yeere and three quarters at least.

Li.

Now if a man would giue but obseruance to this fel­lowes prating, a would weary his eares sooner then a Barber, dee heare sir, lies there not one Haddit a gentleman at this house?

At.

Here lies such a gentleman sir whose cloathes (were they not greasie) would be speake him so.

Li.
[Page]

Then I pray sir when your leasure shall permit, that you would vouchsafe to helpe me to the speech of him.

At.

We must first craue your oath, sir that you come not with intent to molest, perturbe, or indaunger him, for he is a gent. whom it hath pleased fortune to make her tennis ball of, and therefore subiect to be strucke by euery foole inro hassard.

Li.

In that I commend thy care of him, for which friendship heres a slight reward, tell him a Country man of his, one Light­foote is here, and will not any way dispaire of his safetie.

At.

With all respect Sir, pray commaund my house.

Exit Atlas.
Li.

So, now I shall haue a sight of my Cosen gallant, he that hath consumed 800. pound a yeare, in as few yeares, as he hath cares on his head: He that was wont neuer to be found without 3, or 4, paire of red breeches, running before his horse, or coach. He that at a meale, hath had more seuerall kindes, then I thinke the Arke conteyn'd: He that was admir'd by niters, for his robes of gallantry, and was indeed all that an elder brother might be, prodigall, yet he, whose vnthriftinesse kept many a house, is now glad to keepe house in a house, that keepes him the poore tente of a porter, and see his appearance, Ile seeme strange to him.

Enter Haddit in poore Array.
Had.

Cosen Lightfoote how dost, welcome to the City,

Li.

Who cals me Cosen, wheres my Cosen Haddit, hees surely putting on some rich apparell, for me to see him in. I ha bin thinking al the way I came vp, how much his company will Credit me.

Had.

My name is Haddit Sir, and your kinesman, if parents may be trusted, and therefore you may please to know me bet­ter, when you see me next.

Li.

I prethee fellow stay, is it possible thou shouldst be he, why he was the generous sparke of mens admiration.

Had.
I am that sparke Sir, though now rak't vp in ashes,
Yet when it pleaseth fortunes chops to blow
[Page]
Some gentler gale vpon me, I may then,
From forth of embers rise and shine agen,
Li.

O by your versifying I know you now sir, how dost, I knew thee not at first, thart very much altered.

Had.

Faith and so I am, exceeding much since you sawe me last, about eight hundred pound a yeere; but let it passe, for pas­sage carried away the most part of it, a plague of fortune

Li.

That'st more neede to pray to fortune then curse her, she may be kind to thee when thou art penitent, but that I feare will be neuer.

Had.

O no, if she be a woman, sheele euer loue those that hate her, but cozen thou art thy fathers first-borne, helpe me but to some meanes, and Ile redeeme my mortgag'd lands with a wench to boote.

Li.

As how I pray thee?

Ha.

Marry thus, Hogge the Vsurer hath one only daughter.

Li.

Is his name Hogge, it fits him exceeding well, for as a hogge in his life time is alwayes denouring, and neuer commo­dious in aught till his death, euen so is he whose goods at that time may be put to many good vses.

Had.

And so I hope they shall before his death, this daugh­ter of his, did, and I thinke doth loueme, but I then thinking my selfe worthy of an Empresse, gaue but slight respect vnto her fauour, for that her parentage sem'd not to equall my high thoughts, puft vp,

Li.

With Tobacco surely,

Had

No but with as bad a weede, vaine glory.

Li.

And you could now be content, to put your lofty spirits into the lowest pit of her fauour: VVhy what meanes will serue man, Sfoote if all I haue will repaire thy fortunes, it shall fly at thy commaund,

Ha.

Thankes good Coze, the meanes shall not be great, on­ly that I may first be clad in a generous outside, for that is the chiefe attraction, that drawes female affection; good parts without any abilements of gallantry, are no more set by in these times, then a good legge in a wollen stocken: No, tis a glistering presence and audacity brings women into fooles felicity.

Li.
[Page]

Yaue a good confidence Coze, but what deendien your braue outside shall effect.

Had.

That being had wele to the Vsurer where you shal of­fer some slight peece of land to mortgage, and if you doe it to bring our selues into cash, it shall be nere the farther from you, for heres a proiect will not be frustrate of this purpose.

Li.

That shal be shortly tryed, He instantly go seeke for a habit for thee and that of the richest too, that which shall not be subiect to the scoffe of any gallant, though to the accompli­shing thereof all my meanes goes: Alas whats a man vnlesse he weare good cloathes.

Exit Lightfoote
Had.

Good speed attend my suite, heres a neuer seene Ne­phewe kind in distresse, this giues me more cause of admiration then the losse of xxxv. settings together at Passage. I when tis performed, but words and deeds are now more different then Puritans and Players.

Enter Altas
At.

Heres the Player would speake with you.

Had.

About the Iigge, I promis'd him, my penne and inke, I prethee let him in, there may be some Cash rim'd out of him.

Enter Player.
Pla.

The Muses assist you sir, what at your study so early.

Ha

O chiefely now sir for) aurora musis amicat)

Pla.

Indeed I vnderstand not latine sir.

Ha.

You must then pardon me, good M. Chaunge-coate, for I protest vntee it is so much my often conuerse, that if there be none but women in my company, yet cannot I forbeare it.

Pla.

That shewes your more learning sir, but I pray you is that small matter done I intreated for.

Ha.

A small matter, youle finde it worth Megge of West­minster, althouh it be but a bare Iigge.

Pla.

O lord sir, I would it had but halfe the taste of garlicke.

Ha.

Garlicke stinkes to this, proue that you haue not more whores to see this, then ere Garlicke had. say I am a boaster of mine owne workes, disgrace me on the open stage, and bob me off with nere a penny.

Pla.

O lord sir, farre be it from vs, to debarre any worthy writer of his merit; but I pray you sir, what is the title you be­stow vpon it?

Ha.
[Page]

Marry that which is full as forceable as Garlicke, the name of it is who buyes my fowre ropes of hard Onions, by which fowre ropes is meant fowre seueral kind of liuers, by the onions hangers on, as at some conuenient time I wil more par­ticularly informe you in so rare a hidden and obscure a mistery.

Pla.

I pray let me see the beginning of it, I hope you haue made no darke sentence in't, for Ile assure our audience com­monly very simple idle-headed people, and if they should heare what they vnderstand not, they would quite forsake our house.

Ha.

O nere feare it, for what I haue writ is both witty to the wise, and pleasing to the ignorant; for you shall haue these laugh at it farre more heartily that vnderstand it not, then those that doe.

Pla.

Me thinke the end of this staffe is a foote too long.

Ha.

O no, sing it but in tune, and I dare warrant you.

Pla.

Why heare ye,

He sings

And you that delight in truls and minions,

Come buy my fowre ropes of hard S. Thomas onions: Looke you there S. Thomas might very wel haue been left out, besides, hard should haue come next the onions,

Ha.

Fie no, the dismembring of a rime to bring in reason shewes the more efficacy in the writer.

Pla.

Well as you please, I pray you sir what wil the gratuity be, I would content you as neere hand as I could.

Ha.

So I beleeue,

aside;

Why M. Change-coate, I do not suppose we shall differ many pounds, pray make your offer, if you giue me too much, I will most Doctor of Phicke like restoare.

Pla.

You say well, looke you sir, theres a brace of angels, besides much drinke of free cost if it be lik't.

Ha.

How M. Change-coate a brace of angels besides much drinke of free cost if it be lik't, I feare you haue learned it by heart, if you haue powdred vp my plot in your sconce, you may home sir and instruct your Poet ouer a pot of ale, the whole me­thode on't, but if you do so iuggle, looke too't Shrouetuseday is at hand, and I haue some acquaintance with Bricklayers and Playsterers.

Pla.

Nay, I pray sir be not angry, for as I am a true stage­trotter, [Page]I meane honestly and looke ye, more for your loue then otherwise, I giue you a brace more.

Had.

Well, good words doe much, I cannot now be angry with you, but see henceforward, you doe like him that would please a new married wife, shew your most at first, least some o­ther come betweene you and your desires, for I protest had you not suddenly showne your good nature, another should haue had it though t'ad bin for nothing.

Pla.

Troth I am sory I gaue you such cause of impatiency, but you shall see hereafter if your inuention take, I will not stand off for a brace more or lesse, desiring I may see your works before another.

Ha.

Nay before al others, and shotly expect a notable peece of matter such a Iigge whose tune with the naturall whistle of a carman, shall be more rauishing to the eares of shopkeepers then a whole consort of barbors at midnight.

Pla.

I am your man for't, I pray you commaund al the kind­nesse belongs to my function, as a box for your friend at a new play although I procure the hare of all my company.

Had.

No Ile pay for it rather, that may breede a muteny in your whole house.

Pla.

I care not, I ha plaid a Kings part anie time these ten yeeres, if I cannot commaund such a matter twere poore ifaith.

Ha.

Well Maister chaunge coate you shal now leaue me, for Ile to my studie, the morning houres are precious and my muse meditates most vpon an empty stomacke.

Pla.

I pray sir when this new inuention is produc't let not me be forgotten.

Ha.

Ile sooner forget to be a Iigge maker.

Exit plaier.

So heres foure angels I little dreampt of Nay and there bee mony to be gotten by foolery, I hope fortune will not see me want.

Atlas, Atlas.
(Enter Atlas.

What was my country cose here since.

At.

Why did he promise to come againe seeing how the case stoode wye.

Ha.

Ye and to aduaunce my downe falne fortunes Atlas.

At.

But ye are not sure a meant it yee when he spake it.

Ha.
[Page]

No nor is it in man to coniecture rightly the thought by the tongue.

At.

Why then ile beleeue it when I see it, if you had beene in prosperitie when a had promist you this kindenesse,

Ha.

I had not needed it.

At.

But being now you doe, I feare you must goe without it.

Ha.

If I doe Atlas be it so, Ile ene goe write this rime ouer my beds head.

Ʋndone by folly, fortune lend me more,
Canst thou, and wilt not, pox on such a where,

And so ile set vp my rest, but see Atlas heres a little of that that dambs Lawyers, take it in part of a further recompence.

Atlas

No pray keepe it, I am conceited of your better fortunes, and therefore will stay out that expectation.

Ha.

Why if you will you may, but the surmounting of my fortunes is as much to be doubted, as he whose estate lies in the lotterie, desperate.

At.

But nere despaire sfoote why should not you liue aswel as a thousand others, that were change of taffety, whose meanes were neuer anything.

Ha.

Yes cheating, theft, and pandarising, or may be flattery, I haue maintained some of them my selfe, but come hast aught to breakefast.

At.

Yes theres the fagg end of a leg of mutton,

Ha.

There cānot be a sweeter dish, it has Cost mony the dres­sing.

At.

At the barbours you meane.

Exeunt.
Enter Albert solus.
At.

This is the greene, and this the chamberwindow, and see appointed light stands in the casement, the ladder of ropes set orderly, yet he that should ascend, slow in his hast, is not at yet come hether.

Wert any friend that liues but Carracus
I'de trie the blisse which this fine time presents.
Appoint to carry hence so rare an heire,
And be so slacke sfoote a doth moue my patience,
Would any man that is not voide of sence
Not haue watcht night by night for such a prise,
Her beauties so at tractiue, that by heauen,
[Page]
My heart halfe graunts to doe my friend a wrong,
Forgoe these thoughts for Albert be not slaue
To thy effection doe not falsifie
Thy faith to him, whose onely friendships worth
A world of women, hee is such a one,
Thou canst not liue without his good.
A is and was euer, as thine owne harts blood,
Sfoot see shee beckens me for Carracus,
Maria beckens him in the window.
Shall my base purity, cause me neglect,
This present happinesse, I will obteyne it,
Spight of my tymerous Conscience, I am in person,
Habit and all so like to Carracus,
It may be acted, and neere called in question.
Ma.
cals
Hist Carracus ascend.
All is as cleere as in our hearts we wisht.
Alb.
Nay, if I goe not now, I might be gelded ifaith.
Albert ascends, and being on the top of the ladder, puts outs the candle.
Ma.

O loue why doe soe.

Alb.
I heard the steps of some comming this way,
Did you not heare Albert passe by as yet.
Ma.

Nor any Creature passe this way this howre.

Alb.
Then hee intends iust at the breake of day,
To lend his trusty helpe to our departure:
Tis yet two howres time thether, till when lets rest,
For that our speedy flight will not yeeld any.
Ma.

But I feare we possessing of each others presence, shall ouerslip the time, will your friend call.

Alb.

Iust at the instant, feare not of his Care:

Ma.
Come then deere Carracus, thou now shalt rest,
Vpon that bed, where fancy oft hath thought thee;
Which kindnesse vntill now, I nere did graunt thee,
Nor would I now, but that thy loyall faith
I haue so often tride, euen now,
Seeing thee come to that most honored end,
Through all the dangers, which blacke night presents,
For to conuey me hence and marry me.
Alb.

If I doe not doe so, then hate me euer,

Ma.
[Page]

I doe beleeue thee, and will hate thee neuer.

Exeunt.
Enter Carracus.
How pleasing are the steps we louers make,
When in the paths of our content wee pace,
To meet our longings: what happinesse it is
Man to loue. But oh, what greater blisse
To loue, and be beloued: O what one vertue,
Ere raignd in me, that I should be inricht,
With all Earths good at once, I haue a friend,
Selected by the heauens, as a gift,
To make me happy, whilst I liue one earth,
A man so rare of goodnesse, firme of faith,
That Earths Content must vanish in his death.
Then for my loue, and mistris of my soule,
A maid of rich endowments, beautified
With all the vertues nature could bestow
Vpon mortality, who this happy night
Will make me gainer of her heauenly selfe,
And see how suddenly I haue attaind,
To the abode of my desired wishes;
This is the greene, how darke the night appeares.
I cannot heare the tread of my true friend,
Albert, hist Albert, hees not come as yet,
Nor is thappointed light set in the window.
What if I call? Maria, it may be
Shee feard to set a light, and onely harkeneth
To heare my steps, and yet I dare not call,
Least I betray my selfe, and that my voice,
Thinking to enter in the eares of her,
Be of some other heard: no I will stay
Vntill the comming of my deare friend Albert.
But now thinke Carracus, what the end will be
Of this thou dost determine, thou art come
Hether to Rob a father of that wealth,
That soly lengthens his now drooping yeares,
His vertuous daughter, and all of that sex left,
To make him happy in his aged dayeas,
The losse of her, may cause him to dispaire,
Transport his nere decaying sence to frenzie,
Or to some such abhorred inconuenience,
Whereto fraile age is subiect, I do too il in this,
And must not thinke but that a fathers plaint,
Wil moue the Heauens, to power forth misery.
Vpon the head of disobediency.
Yet reason tels vs, parents are oreseene,
VVhen with two strict a reine they do hold in,
Their childs affections, and controule that loue,
VVhich the high powers deuine inspires them with,
VVhen in their shallowest iudgements they may know
Affection crost, brings misery and woe:
But whilst I run contemplating on this,
I softly pace to my desired blisse,
Ile goe into the next field, where my friend,
Told me the horses were in readinesse.
Exit.
Albert descending from Maria,
Ma.

But do not stay, what if you finde not Albert,

Alb.

Ile then retourne alone to fetch you hence,

Ma.

If you should now deceaue me, hauing gain'd, what you men seeke for.

Alb.

Sooner ile deceaue my soule, and so I feare I haue.

Ma.

At your first call I will descend.

Alb.

Till when, this touch of lips be the true pleadge, of Carracus constant true deuoted loue,

Ma.
Be sure you stay not long, farewell,
I cannot lend an eare to heare you part,
Exit Ma.
Alb.
But you did lend a hand vnto my entrance.
He descends
How haue I wrong'd my friend, my faith full friend,
Robd him of whats more precious then his blood,
His earthly heauen th'unspotted honor,
Of his soule-ioying Mistres, the fruition of whose bed,
I yet am warme of, whilst deere Carracus,
Wanders this cold night, through th'unsheltering field,
Seeking me treacherous man, yet no man neither,
Though in an outward shew of such appearance,
But am a Diuel indeed, for so this deed.
Of wronged loue and friendship rightly makes me,
[Page]
I may compare my friend, to one that's sicke,
Who lying on his death-bed, cals to him,
His dear'st thought friend and bids him goe,
To some rare gifted man that can restore,
His former health, this his friend sadly heares,
And vowes with protestations to fulfill,
His wisht desires, with his best performance,
But then no sooner seeing that the death,
Of his sicke friend, would ad to him some gaine.
Goes not to seeke a remedy to saue,
But like a wretch hides him to dig his graue,
As I haue done for vertuous Carracus,
Yet Albert be not reasonlesse, to indanger,
VVhat thou maist yet secure, who can detect,
The crime of thy licentious appetite,
There ones pace tis surely Carracus.
Enter Carracus.
Ca.
Not finde my friend, sure some malignant plannet,
Rules ore this night, and enuying the content,
VVhich I in thought possesse, debarres me thus,
From what is more then happy, the loued presence of a deare friend and loue,
Alb.
Tis wronged Carracus by Alberts basenesse,
I haue no power now to reueale my selfe,
Car.
The horses stand at the appointed place,
And nights darke couerture, makes firme our safety,
My friend is surely falne into a slumber,
On some bancke hereabouts, I will call him,
Friend, Albert, Albert.
Alb

What ere you are that call, you know my name.

Ca.

I, and thy heart deare friend:

Alb.
O Carracus, you are a slow pac't louer.
Your credit had been toucht, had I not beene:
Ca.

As how I preethee Albert:

Alb.
Why I excusd you to the faire Maria;
Who would haue thought you else, a slacke performer.
For comming first vnder her chamber window,
Shee heard me tread, and cald vpon your name,
To which I answered with a tongue like yours:
[Page]
And told her, I would goe to seeke for Albert,
And straight retourne.
Ca.
Whom I haue found, thankes to thy faith, and heauen.
But had not shee a light, when you came first?
Alb.
Yes but hearing of some Company,
Shee at my warning, was fore't to put it out:
And had I bin so too, you and I too had still bin happy.
aside
Ca.

See we are now come to the chamber window.

Al.

Then you must call, for so I said I would,

Ca.

Maria.

Ma.
My Carracus, are you so soone retournd?
I see, youle keepe your promise.
Ca.
VVho would not doe so, hauing past it thee,
Cannot be framd of aught but trechery:
Fairest descend, that by our hence departing,
VVe may make firme the blisse of our content.
Ma.

Is your friend Albert with you?

Alb.

Yes, and your seruant honored Lady.

Ma.

Hold me from falling Carracus.

shee descends.
Ca.

I will do now so; but not at other times.

Ma.
You are merry sir:
But what d'ee intend with this your scaling ladder,
To leaue it thus, or put it forth of sight?
Ca.
Faithts no great matter which:
Yet we will take it hence, that it may breed
Many confusd opinions in the house
Of your escape here: Albert you shall beare it:
It may bee you may chaunce to practise that way;
VVhich when you do, may your attempts so proue
As mine haue done, most fortunate in loue.
Alb
May you continew euer so:
But its time now to make some hast to horse:
Night soone will vanish: O that it had power
For euer to exclude day from oureies,
For my lookes then will shew my villany:
aside
Car.
Come faire Maria the troubles of this night,
Are as forerunners to ensuing pleasures,
And noble friend although now Carracus
[Page]
Seemes in the gaining of this beautious prise,
To keepe from you so much of his lou'd treasure,
Which ought not be mixted, yet his heart
Shall so farre striue in your wish't happinesse,
That if the losse and ruine of it selfe can but auaile your good
Alb.
O friend, no more, come, you are slow in haste,
Friendship ought neuer be distrust in words,
Till all her deeds be finish't, who looking in a booke,
And reades but some part only, cannot iudge
What pray so the whole deserues, because his knowledge
Is grounded but on part, as thine friend is
aside.
Ignorant of that black mischiefe I haue done thee.
Ma.

Carracus I am weary, are the horses farre?

Ca.
No fairest, we are now euen at them:
Come, do you follow Albert?
Alb.
Yes I do follow, would I had done so euer,
And nere had gone before.
Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Hogge the Ʋsurer, with Peter seruitude trussing his points.
Ho.

What hath not my young lord Wealthy been here this morning?

Pe.

No in very deed sir, is a towardly young gentleman, shall a haue my young Mistris, your daughter, I pray you sir?

Ho.

I that a shall Peter, she cannot be matched to greater honour and riches in all this Country; yet the peeuish girle makes coy of it, she had rather affect a Prodigall, as there was Hadit, one that by this time cannot be otherwise then hang'd, or in some worse estate, yet shee would haue had him, but I prayse my starres shee went without him though, I did not without 's lands 'twas a rare mortgage Peter?

Pe.

As ere came in parchment, but see, here comes my young lord.

Enter young L. Wealthy.
We.

Morrow father Hogge, I come to tel you strange newes, my sister is stolne away to night, tis thought by Nigromancy, what Nigromancy is, I leaue to the readers of the seauen cham­pions of chistendome.

Ho.
[Page]

But is it possible your sister should be stolne, sure some of the houshold seruants were confederates in't.

Wel.

Faith, I thinke they would haue confest then, for I am sure my lord and father hath put them all to the bastinado twice this morning already, not a wayting-woman but has been stowed ifaith.

Pe.

Trust me a sayes wel for the most part.

Ho.

Then my lord your father is farre impatient.

We.

Impatient, I ha seene the picture of Hector in a Haber­dashers shop, not looke halfe so furious, he apprares more ter­rible then wilde fire at a play. But father Hogge, when is the time your daughter and I shall to this wedlock druggery.

Ho.

Troth my lord when you please, shee's at your dispo­sure, and I rest much thankfull that your Lordship will so high­ly honour me, she shal haue a good portion my lord, though no­thing in respect of your large reuenues; call her in Peter, tel her my most respected lord Welthies here, to whose presence I will now commit her, and I pray you my Lord, prosecute the gaine of her affectation with the best affecting words you may, and so I bid good morrow to your lordship

Exit Ho.
We.

Moreouer, father Hogge, to prosecute the gaine of her affectation with the best affecting words, as I am a Lord, a most rare phrase: well I perceiue age is not altogether ignorant, though many an old Iustice is so.

Enter Peter.

How now Peter is thy young mistris vp yet?

Pe.

Yes indeed shee's an early stirrer, and I doubt not here­after, but that your lordship may say shee's abroad before you can rise.

We.

Faith and so she may, for tis long ere I can get vp when I goe soxt to bed; but Peter has she no other suters besides my selfe.

Pe.

No and it like your lordship, nor is fit she should.

We.

Not fit she should, I tell thee Peter, I would giue away as much as some Knights are worth, and that's not much, only to wipe the noses of some dozen or two of Gallants, and to see how pittifully those percels of mans flesh would looke when I had caught the bird, which they had beaten the bush for.

Pe.

Indeed your lordships conquest would haue seem'd the greater.

We.
[Page]

Foot, as I am a Lo. it angers me to the guts, that no bo­dy hath been about her.

Pe.

For any thing I know, your lordship may goe without her.

We.

An I could haue inioin'd her to some pale fac't louers distraction, or beene enuied for my happinesse, it had beene somewhat.

Enter Rebeeka Hogs daughter.

But see where shee comes, I knewe she had not power enough to stay another sending, for ô lords! what are we? our very names enforce beauty to fly, being sent for aside.

Morrow pretty Becke: how doost?

Re.

I rather should enquire your lordships health, seeing you vp at such an early hower: was it the tooth-ake, or else fleas disturb'd you?

We.

Dee ye think I am subiect to such common infirmities? nay, were I diseas'd I'de scorne but to be diseas'd like a lord isaith: but I can tell you newes, your fellow virgin-hole play­er, my sister is stolne away to night.

Re.

Intruth I am glad on't shee's now free from the iealous eye of a father; do not yee suspect, my lord, who it should be that hath carried her away?

We.

No, nor care nor, as she brewes, so let her bake, so sayd the auntient prouerbe, but lady mine that shalbe, your father hath wisht me to appoint the day with you.

Re.

What day my lord?

We.

Why of mariage, as the learned Historiographer writes hymens hollidaies, or nuptial Ceremonious rites.

Re.

Why, when would you appoint that my lord?

We.

Why let me see, I thinke the Taylor may dispatch all our vestures in a weeke: therefore, it shall be directly this day sennight.

Pe.

God giue you ioy.

Re.

Of what I pray you impudence, this fellow wil go neere to take his oath that he hath seene vs plighted faiths together, my father keeps him for no other cause, then to outsweare the truth My lord not to hold you any longer in a sooles paradice, nor to blind you with the hopes I neuer intend to accomplish, [Page]know I neither doe, can, or will loue you.

We.

How, not loue a lord; ô indiscreete young woman! Indeed your father told me how vnripe I should finde you: but al's, one vnripe fruit will aske more shaking before they fall, then those that are, and my conquest will see me the greater still.

Pe.

Afore god is a most vnanswerable lord, and holds her toot ifaith.

We.

Nay ye could not a pleas'd me better, then seeing you so inuincible, and such a difficult attaining to, I would not giue a pin for the society of a female that should seeme willing, but giue me a wench that hath disdainefull lookes:

For tis denial whets on appetite,
When proferred seruice doth allay delight.
Re.

The fooles well read in vice, my lord, I hope you here­after will no further insinuate in the course of your affections, and for the better withdrawing from them, you may please to know, I haue irreuocably decreed neuer to marry.

We.

Neuer to marry, Peter I pray beare witnes of her words that when I haue attain'd her, it may adde to my fame and con­quest.

Pe.

Yes indeed an't like your lordship.

We.

Nay, ye must think Becke I know how to woe, ye shall finde no bashfull vniuersity man of me.

Re.

Indeed I thinke y'ad nere that bringing vp, did you e­uer study my lord?

We.

Yes faith that I haue, and the last week too, three dayes and a night together.

Re.

About what I pray?

We.

Onely to finde out, why a woman going on the right side of her husband the day time, should lie on his left side at night; and as I am a lord, I neuer knew the meaning on't till yesterday, Mallapert my fathers Butler being a witty I acka­napes told me why it was.

Re.

Berlady, my lord, twas a shrewd studdy, and I feare hath altered the property of your good parts, for ile assure you I lou'd you a fortnight a goe farre better.

We.

Nay, tis all one whether you doe or no, tis but a little [Page]more trouble to bring ye about agen, & no question but a man may doot; I am he, tis true as your father sayd, the blacke Oxe hath not trode vpon that foote of yours.

Re.

No, but the white Calfe hath, and so I leaue your lord­ship.

Exit Re.
We.

Wel go thy waies, th'art as witty a marmaled eater, as euer I conuerst with; now, as I am a lord, I loue her better and better, ile home and Poetise vpon her good parts presently, Pe­ter heres apreparatiue to my further applications, and Peter be circumspect in giuing me diligent notice, what sutors seeme to be pee-ping.

Pe.

Ile warrant you my lord, shee's your owne, for ile giue out to all that comes neere her, that shees betrothed to you, and if the worst come to the worst, Ile sweare it.

We.

Why god-a-mercy, and if euer I do gaine my request, Thou shalt in brauer cloathes be shortly drest.

Exeunt.
Enter old L. Wealthy solus.
Haue the fates then conspir'd, and quite bereft
My drooping yeeres, of all the blest content
That age partakes of, by the sweet aspect
Of their well nurtur'd issue; whose obedience,
Discreete and duteous haueour, onely lengthens
The thred of age; when on the contrary,
By rude demeanour and their headstrong wils,
That thred's soone rauel'd out: O why Maria
Couldst thou abandon me now at this time,
When my gray head's declining to the graue!
Could any Masculine flatterer on earth
So far bewitch thee, to forget thy selfe,
As now to leaue me? Did Nature soly giue thee me,
As my chiefe inestimable treasure,
Whereby my age might passe in quiet to rest:
And art thou prov'd to be the only curse,
Which heauen could throw vpon mortality:
Yet ile not curse thee, though I feare the fates
Will on thy head inflict some punishment,
Which I will daily pray they may with-hold;
[Page]
Although thy disobediency deserues
Extreamest rigor, yet I wish to thee
Content in loue full of tranquility.
Enter young Welthy.
But see where stands my shame, whose indiscretion
Doth seeme to bury all the liuing honours,
Of all our auncestours but tis the fates decree,
That men might know their weake mortality.
We.

Sir, I cannot finde my sister,

Fa.
I know thou canst not, t'were to rare to see
VVisdome found out by ignorance.
We.

How father, is it not possible that wisdome should be found out by ignorance; I pray then how do many Magnificoes come by it?

Fa
Not buy it sonne, as you had need to doe,
Yet wealth without that, may liue more content,
Then wits enioyers, can debard of wealth,
All pray for wealth, but I nere hard yet,
Of anie but one, that ere praid for wit,
Hees counted wife enough in these vaine times,
That hath but meanes enough to we are gay clothes,
And be an outside of humanitie, what matters it a pin,
How indiscreet so ere a natur all be,
So that his wealth be great, thats it doth cause
VVisdome in these daies; so giue fooles applause,
And when gay folly speakes, how vaine so ere,
VVisdome must silent sit, and speech forbear.
We.

Then wisdome will sit as mure as learning among many Courtiers, but father I partlie suspect that Carracus hath got my sister.

Fa.

With Childe, I feare ere this.

We.

Berlady and that may be true, but whether a has or no, its al one, if you please, Ile take her from vnder his nose in spight ons teeth, and aske him no leaue.

Fa.

That were to headstrong, sonne, weele rather leaue them to the will of heauen.

To fall or prosper, and though young Carracus
Be but a gentleman of small reuennews;
Yet lie deserues my daughter for his vertues,
[Page]
And had I though shee could not be withdrawne
From th'affecting of him, I had ere this
Made them both happy by my free consent
VVhich now I wish I had graunted, and still pray
If any haue her, it may be Carracus.
We.

Troth and I wish so too, for in my minde hees a gent. of a good house, and speakes true lattine,

Fa.
To morrow sonne, you shall ride to his house
And there enquier of your sisters being,
But as you tender me, and your owne good
Vse no rough language sauouring of distast,
Or any vnciuil tearmes.
We.

Why doe ye take me for a mid-wife,

Fa.
But tell young Carracus these words from me,
That if he hath with safegard of her honor,
Espousd my daughter, that I then forgiue
His rash offence, and will accept of him,
In all the fatherly loue, I owe a childe.
We.

I am sure my sister willbe glad to heare it, and I cannot blame her, for sheele then inioy that with quietnesse, which ma­ny a wench in these dayes does scratch for,

Fa.

Come sonne, ile wright to Carracus, that my owne hand may witnesse, how much I stand affected to his worth.

Exeunt.
Enter Haddid in his gay apparel, making him ready, and with him Lightfoote.
Had.

By this light Coze, this suite does rarely: the taylor that made it, may happe to be saued, ant be but for his good workes, I thinke I shall be proud of em, and so I was neuer yet of any clothes.

Li.

How not of your Clothes, why then you were neuer proud of any thing, for therein chiefly consisteth pride: for you neuer saw pride pictured, but in gay attire.

Ha.

True, but in my opinion, pride might as well be por­traied in any other shape, as to seeme to be an affector of gal­lantry, being the causes thereof are so seuerall and diuers, as some are proud of their strength, although that pride cost them the losse of a limbe or two, by ouer-daring, likewise some are [Page]proud of their humor, although in that humor, they be often knockt for being so, some are proud of their drinke, although that liquid operation, cause them to weare a night cap 3. weeks after, some are proud of their good parts, although they neuer put them to better vses, then the enioying of a common strum­pets company, and are only made proud by the fauor of a wai­ting woman, others are proud —

Li.

Nay, I preethee Coze, enough of pride, but when do you entend to go yonder to Couetousnesse the Vsurer, that we may see how neere your plot wil take, for the releasing of your mort­gag'd lands.

Ha.

Why now presently, and if I do not accomplish my pro­iects to a wished end, I wish my fortunes may be like some scra­ping tradesman, that neuer embraceth true pleasure, till he be threescore and ten.

Li.

But say Hogs daughter, on whom all your hopes depend by this be betrothed to some other.

Ha.

VVhy say shee were, nay more, maried to another, I would be neare the further of them effecting of my intents, no Coze, I partly know her inward disposition, and did I but only know her to be woman kind, I thinke it were sufficient.

Li.

Sufficient, for what.

Had.

VVhy to obtaine a graunt of the best thing shee had, Chastity, Man tis not here, as tis with you in the Countrey, not to be had without fathers and mothers good will, no, the City is a place of more traffique, where each one learnes by example of their elders, to make the most of their owne, either for profit or pleasure.

Li.

Tis but your misbeleeuing thoughts, makes you surmise so, if women were so kind, how haps you had not by their fa­ctors kept your selfe out of the clawes of pouerty.

Had.

O but Coze, Can a ship saile without water, had I had but such a suite as this, to set my selfe a floate, I would not haue [...]ar'd sincking but come, no more of need, now to the Vsurer, and though all hopes do faile, a man can want no liuing, So long as sweet desire reignes in women.

Li.

But then your selfe must able be in giuing.

Exeunt.
[Page] Enter Albert solus.
Conscience thou horror vnto wicked men,
VVhen wilt thou cease thy all afflicted wrath,
And set my soule free from the laborinth
Of thy tormenting terror; O but it fits not,
Should I desire redresse or wish for comfort,
That haue committed an act so inhumane,
Able to fill shames spatious Chronicle.
Who but a damn'd one, could haue done like me,
Robd my deere friend, in a short moments time
Of his loues high pri'zd Iem of Chastity:
That which so many yeeres himselfe hath staid for;
How often hath he as he lay in bed,
Sweetly discourst to me of his Maria?
And with what pleasing passions a did suffer
Loues genle war-siege, then he would relate
How he first came vnto her f [...]ire eyes view;
How long it was ere shee could brooke affection,
And then how constant shee did still abide:
I then at this would ioy, as if my brest
Had simpathi'zd in equall happinesse;
With my true friend: but now when ioy should be,
VVho but a damn'd one would haue done like me:
He hath been married now at least a moneth:
In all which time I haue not once behold him; This is his house:
Ile call to know his health, but will not see him,
My lookes would then betray me for should he aske
My cause of seeming sadnesse, or the like;
I could not but reueale, and so pourd on
VVorse vnto id, which breeds confusion.
He knocks, Enter Seruingman.
Ser.

To what intent dee knocke sir.

Al.

Because I wold be heard sir, is the M r. of this house within?

Ser.

Yes marry is a sir, would you speake with him?

Alb.
My businesse is not so troublesome:
Is a in health with his late espoused wife
Ser.

Both are exceeding well sir.

Alb.

I me truly glad ont, farewel good friend.

Ser.
[Page]

I pray you lets craue your name sir, I may els haue anger.

Alb.

You may say, one Albert riding by this way, onely inquir'd their health.

Ser.

I will acquaint so much.

Exit Ser.
Alb.
How like a poisonous Doctor haue I come,
To enquire their wel-fare, knowing that my selfe
Haue giuen the portion of their nere recouery;
For which I will afflict my selfe with torture euer:
And since the earth yeelds not a remedy,
Able to salue the sores my lust hath made,
Ile now take fare-wel of society,
And th'aboade of men to entertaine a life
Fitting my fellowship, in desart woods;
Where beasts like me consort, there may I liue,
Farre off from wronging vertuous Carracus;
Theres no Maria that shall satisfie
My hatefull lust, the trees shall shelter
This wretched trunke of mine, vpon whose backe.
I will engraue the story of my sinne,
And there this short breath of mortality,
Ile finish vp in that repentant state;
Where not th'allurements of earths vanities
Can ere ore-take me, there's no baites for lust,
No friend to ruine, I shall then be free
From practising the art of treachery;
Thither then steps where such content abides,
Where penitency not disturb'd may greeue,
Where on each tree and springing plant, Ile carue
This heauy motto of my misery.
Who but a damb'd one could haue done like me?
Carracus farewel, if ere thou seest me more,
Shalt finde me curing of a sole-sicke sore.
Exit.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Carracus driuing his man before him.
Ca.

Why thou base villaine, was my dearest friend here, and couldst not make him stay?

Ser.
[Page]

Sfoote sir, I could not force him against his wil, an a had been a woman.

Ca.

Hence thou vntuter'd slaue.

Exit Ser.

But couldst thou Albert come so nere my dore, and not vouch­safe the comfort of thy presence?

Hath my good fortune caus'd thee to repine?
And seeing my state so full repleate with good,
Canst thou with-draw thy loue to lessen it?
What could so moue thee, was 't because I married?
Didst thou imagine I infring'd my faith,
For that a woman did participate
In equall share with thee? Cannot my friendship
Be firme to thee, because tis deare to her;
Yet no more deere to her then firme to thee:
Beleeue me Albert; thou dost little thinke,
How much thy absence giues cause of discontent,
But ile impute it onely to neglect,
It is neglect indeed when friends neglect
The sight of friends, and say tis troublesome;
Onely aske how they do, and so fare well:
Shewing an outward kinde of seeming duty,
Which in the rules of manhood is obsern'd
And thinke full well they haue perform [...]d their taske,
When of their friends health they do onely aske,
Not caring how they are, or how distrest,
It is enough they haue their loues exprest,
In bare enquiry, and in these times too
Friendships so cold that fewe so much will doe:
And am not I beholding then to Albert,
He after knowlede of our being well,
Sayd he was truly glad on't: ô rare friend!
If he be vnkind how many more may mend;
But whether am I carried by vnkindnesse?
Why should not I as wel set light by friendship,
Since I haue seene a man whom I late thought,
Had been compos'd of nothing but of faith,
Proue so regardlesse of his friends content.
Enter Maria
Ma.
Come Carracus I haue sought you all about,
Your seruant told me you were much disquieted
[Page]
Prethee loue be not so, come walke in,
Ile charm thee with my lute from forth disturbance.
Ca.
I am not angry sweet, though if I were,
Thy bright aspect would soone alay my rage;
But my Maria, it doth something moue me,
That our friend Albert so forgets himselfe.
Ma.
It may be 'ts nothing els, & theres no doubt
Hele soone remember his accustom'd friendship
He thinks, as yet, peraduenture that his presence
Will but offend, for that our marriage rites
Are but so newly past.
Ca.
I will surmise so too, and onely thinke,
Some serious businesse hinders Alberts presence:
But what ring's that Maria on your finger?
Ma.
Tis one you lost loue, when I did bestow
A iewell of sarre greater worth on you.
Ca.

At what time fairest?

Ma.

As if you knew not, why dee mak't so strang [...]

Ca.
Yare dispos'd to riddle, pray lets see't,
I partly know it, where wast you sound it?
Ma.
Why in my chamber that most gladsome night
When you enricht your loue by my escape.
Ca.

How, in your Chamber?

Ma.
Sure Carracus I will be angry with you
If you seeme so forgetfull, I tooke it vp
Then when you left my lodge and went away,
Glad of your conquest for to seeke your friend:
Why stand you so amaz'd, sir I hope that kindnesse
Which then you reaped, doth not preuaile
So in your thoughts, as that you thinke me light.
Ca.
O thinke thy selfe Maria what thou art:
This is the ring of Albert treacherous man,
Hee that enioy'd thy virgin chastity:
I neuer did ascend into thy chamber;
But all that cold night through the frozen field,
Went seeking of that wretch, who nere sought me;
But found what his lust sought, for dearest thee.
Ma,

I haue heard enough my Carracus to bereaue me of this little breath, she sounds.

Ca.
[Page]

All breath be first extinguishe, within there ho?

Enter Nurse and Seruants.

O Nurse see heere, Maria saies sheele die.

Nu.

Marry, God forbid, oh M ris. Ms. Ms. she has breath yet, shees but in a traunce, good sir take comfort sheele recouer by and by.

Ca.

No, no, sheele die Nurse, for she sayd she would, an she had not sayd so, tad bene another matter, but you know Nurse she nere told a lie, I will beleeue her, for she speaks all truth.

Nur.
His memory begins to faile him, come lets beare
This heauy spectacle from forth his presence,
The heauēs wil lend a hand, I hope, of comfort, Exeūt Ca. manet.
Ca.
See how they steale away my faire Maria,
But I will follow after her as farre,
As Orpheus did to gaine his soules delight,
And Plutoes selfe shall know, although I am not
Skilful in musique, yet I can be mad,
And force my loues enioyment in despight
Of hels blacke fury; but stay, stay Carracus,
Where is thy knowledge, and that rational sence,
Which heauen; great Architect indued thee with?
All sunke beneath the waight of lumpish nature?
Are our diuiner parts no noblier free,
Then to be tortur'd by the weake assailements
Of earth-sprung griefes? why is man then accompted
The head commaunder of this vniuerse,
Next the Creator, when a little storme
Of natures fury straight ore'whelmes his iudgement,
But mines no little storme, tis a tempest
So full of raging selfe-consuming woe,
That nought but ruine followes expectation:
Oh my Maria, what vnheard of sinne
Haue any of thine Auncestors enacted,
That all their shame should be powr'd thus on thee;
Or what incestuous spirit, cruell Albert
Left hels vast wombe for to enter thee,
And do a mischiefe of such treachery.
Enter Nurse weeping.
[Page]
Oh Nurse, how ist with Maria?
If ere thy tongue did vtter pleasing words,
Let it now do so, or hereafter ere be dumbe in sorrow.
Nur.
Good sir take comfort, I am forc't to speake
What will not please, your chaste wise sir is dead.
Ca.

Tis dead indeed, how did you know twas so Nurse?

Nur.

What sir?

Ca.
That my heart was dead, sure thou hast serv'd
Dame natures selfe, and knowest the inward secrets
Of all our hidden powers, ile loue thee for't;
And if thou wilt teach me that vnknowne skill,
Shalt see what wonder Carracus will do;
Ile diue into the breast of hatefull Albert,
And see how his blacke soule is round incompast
By fearefull fiends, oh I would do strange things,
And know to whose cause Lawyers wil incline,
When they had fees on both sides, viewe the thoughts
Of for-lorne widdowes when their Knights haue left them;
Search through the guts of grearnes, and behold
What seueral sin best pleas'd them, thence Ide descend
Into the bowels of some pocky sit:
And tell to leachers all the paines he felt,
That they thereby might warned be from lust,
Troth twill be rare, ile study [...] presently.
Nur.
Alas! hee's distracted, what a sinne
Am I partaker of by telling him,
So curst an vntruth? But 'twas my Mistris will
Who is recouer'd, though her griefes neuer
Can be recouer'd, shee hath vow'd with teares
Her owne perpetuall banishment, therefore to him
Death was not more displeasing, then if I
Had told her lasting absence.
Ca.
I finde my braines too shallow farre for study,
What neede I care for being a Rethmetitian,
Let Cittizens sonnes stand and they will for Ciphers;
Why should I teach them and go beate my braines,
To instruct vnapt, and vnconceauing dolts,
And when all's done, my art that should be sam'd,
[Page]
VVill by grosse imitation be but sham'd,
Your iudgement Madam?
Nur.

Good sir walke in, weele fend for learned men that may alay your frenzy.

Ca.
But can Maria so forget her selfe,
As to debarre vs thus of her attendance?
Nur.

Shee is within sir, pray you wil you walke to her.

Ca.
Oh is she so, come then lets softly steale
Into her chamber, if she be a sleepe
Ile laugh shalt see enough, and thou shalt weepe,
Softly good long coate, softly.
Exeunt.
Enter Maria in Pages apparrell.
Ma.
Cease now thy steps Maria, and looke backe
Vpon that place, where distrest Carracus
Hath his sad being, from whose vertuous hosome,
Shame hath constrain'd me fly nere to retourne:
I will goe seeke some vnfrequented path,
Either in desert woods or wildernesse,
There to bewaile my innocent mishaps,
VVhich heauen hath iustly powred downe on me.
In punishing my disobediency.
Enter young Lo. Wealthy.
Oh see my brother
Exit Maria.
Wel.

Ho you, three foote and a halfe, why Page I say, sfoot is vanisht as sodainly as a dumbe shewe, if a lord had lost his way now so a had been serued, but let me see; as I take it, this is the house of Carracus, a very faire building, but it lookes as if twere dead, I can see no breath come out of the chimnies; but I shall know the state on't by and by, by the looks of some seruing-man: VVhat no within here?

Enter Ser.
Ser.

Good sir, you haue your armes at liberty, wilt please you to with-draw your action of battery.

Wel.

Yes indeed, now you haue made your appearance, is the liuing-giuer within sir?

Ser.

You meane my Master sir?

Wel.

You haue hit it sir, prays'd bee your vnderstanding, I am to haue cōference with him, would you admit my presence.

Ser.

Indeed sir he is at this time not in health, and may not be disturb'd.

We.
[Page]

Sir, an a were in the pangs of childe-bed, I'de speake with him.

Enter Carracus.
Ca.

Vpon what cause gay-man?

We.

Sfoote I thinke a be disturb'd indeed, a speakes more commaunding then a Constable at midnight.

Sir, my lord and father, by me a lord, hath sent these lines in­clos'd, which shew his whole intent.

Ca.
Let me peruse them, if they do portend
To the States good, your answere shall be sodaine,
Your entertainement friendly; but if otherwise,
Our meanest subiect shall diuide thy greatnes,
You'd best looke too't Embassador.
We.

Is yous M r. a Statesman friend?

Ser.

Alas no sir, a vnderstands not what a speakes.

We.

I but when my father dies, I am to be call'd in for one my selfe, and I hope to beare the place as grauely as my succes­sors haue done before me.

Ca.
Embassador, I finde your Masters will
Treats to the good of somewhat, what it is
You haue your answere, and may now depart.
We.

I will relate as much sir, fare ye well.

Ca.
But stay, I h [...] forgotten quite our chief'st affaires,
Your Master further writes some three lines lower,
Of one Maria that is wife to me,
That she and I should trauel now with you
Vnto his presence.
We.

Why now I vnderstand you sir, that Maria is my sister, by whose coniunction you are created brother, to me a lord.

Ca.

But brother lord we cannot goe this iourney.

We.

Alas no sir, we meane to ride it, my sister shall ride vpon my nagge.

Ca.
Come then weele in, and striue to woe your sister,
I ha not seene her sir, at least these three dayes,
They keepe her in a Chamber, and tell me
Shee's fast a sleepe still, you and ile go see,
We.

Content sir.

Ser.

Mad-men and fooles agree.

Exeunt.
Enter Haddit and Rebecka.
Re.
[Page]

When you haue got this prise, you meane to lose me.

Ha.

Nay pree thee doe not thinke so, if I doe not marry thee this instant night, may I neuer enioy breath a minute after; by heauen I respect not his pelfe, thus much, but onely that I may haue wherewith to maintaine thee.

Re.

O but to rob my father, though a be bad, the world will thinke ill of me.

Ha.

Thinke ill of thee, can the world pitty him, that nere pittied any, besides since their is no end of his goods, nor begin­ning of his goodnesse; had not we as good share his drosse in his life time, as let Controuersie and Lawyers deuowre it ats death?

Re.

You haue preuail'd, at what houre ist you entend to haue entrance into his chamber?

Ha.

Why iust at mid-night, for then our apparition will will seeme most fearefull, youle make away that we may ascend vp like spirits?

Re.

I will, but how many haue you made instruments herein?

Ha.

Faith none, but my cosen Lightfoote and a plaier.

Re.

But may you trust the player?

Ha.

Oh exceeding well, wele giue him a speech a vnder­stands not, but now I thinke out, whats to be done with your Fathers man Peter?

Re.

Why the least quantity of drinke, will lay him dead a­sleepe; But harke, I heare my father comming, soone in the eue­ning ile conuay you in.

Ha.

Till when, let this outward ceremony, be the true pledge of our inward affections.

Exit Reb.

So, this goes better forward then the Plantation in Virginia: but see here comes halfe the west Indies, whose rich mines this night I meane to be ransacking

Enter Hog, Lightfoote, & Peter.
Hog.

Then youle seale for this small Lordship you say, To morrow your mony shall be rightly told vp for you to a peny.

Li.

I pray let it, and that your man may set contents vpon euerie bag.

Ha.

Indeed by that wee may know what we steale without labour, for the telling ont ore; how now gent. are ye agreed v­pon the price of this earth and clay.

Hog,

Yes faith Mr. Haddit the gent, your friend here makes me paye sweetlie for't but let it goe, I hope to inherite hea­uen [Page]ant be but for doing gentlemen pleasure.

Hog.

Peter.

Pe.

Anon sir.

Hogge

I wonder how Haddit came by that gay suite of clothes, all his meanes was consumed long since.

Pe.

Why sir being vndone himselfe; a liues by the vndoing or by-lady, it may be by the doing of others, or peraduenture both a decayed gallant may liue by any thing, if a keepe one thing safe.

Hog.

Gentlemen, Ile to the Scriueners to cause these writings to be drawne.

Li.

Pray doe sir, weele now leaue you till the morning.

Hog.

Nay, you shall stay dinner, ile retourne presently; Peter some beare here for these worshipful gentlemen.

Exit Hagge, Come Peter.
Ha.

We shall be bold no doubt, and that olde penny-father youle confesse by to morrow morning.

Li.

Then his daughter is certainely thine, and condiscends to all thy wishes.

Had

And yet you would not once beleeue it, as if a females fauour could not be obteyn'd by any, but he that weares the Cap of maintenance.

When 'ts nothing but acquaintance and a bold spirit,
That may the chiefest prize mongst all of them inherit,
Li.

Well thou hast got one deserues the bringing home with trumpets, and fals to thee as miraculously as the 1000. pound did to the Tailor, thanke your good fortune, but must Hogges man be made druncke,

Had.

By all meanes: and thus it shall be effected, when a comes in with beere, do you vpon some slight occasion fall out with him, and if you doe giue him a cuffe or two, it will giue him cause to knowy'are the more angry, then will I slip in and take vp the matter, and striuing to make you two friends, wele make him druncke.

Li.

Its done in conceipt already, see where a comes.

Enter Peter.
Pe.

Wilt please you to tast a cup of September beare gentiem.

Li.

Pray begin, wele pleadge you sir.

Pet.
[Page]

Its out sir. Li. then my hand in sir.

( Li. cuffes him.
Li.

Why goodman hobby horse, if we out of our gentility offered you to beginne, must you out of your rascality needes take it.

Had.

Why how now sirs, whats the matter.

Pe.

The gentleman here fals out with me, vpon nothing in the world but mere courtesie,

Had.

By this light but a shall not, why Cozen Lightfoote.

Pe.

Is his name Lighfoote, a plague on him, a has a heauie hande.

Enter young Lord welthy.
We.

Peace be here: for I came late enough from a madman.

Had.

My young Lord, God saue you.

We.

And you also: I could speake it in lattine, but the phrase is common.

Had.

True my Lords, and whats common, ought not much to be dealt with all: but I must desire your helpe my Lord to end a Controuersie here, betweene this gentleman my friend, and honest Peter, who I dare besworne is as ignorant as your Lord­shippe.

We.

That I will, but my masters thus much ile say vntee, if so be this quarrell may be taken vp peaceably, without the in­dangering of my owne person, well, and good, otherwise I will not meddle therewith, for I haue beene vext late enough al­readie.

Had.

Why then my Lord if it please you, let me, being your inferiour, decree the cause betweene them.

We,

I doe giue leaue, or permit.

Had.

Then thus I will propound a reasonable motion; how many cuffes Peter did this gent. out of his fury make thee parta­ker of?

Pe.

Three at the least sir.

Ha.

All which were bestowed vpon you for beginning first Peter.

Pe.

Yes indeed sir.

Ha.

Why then here the sentence of your suffering, you shal both downe into Master Hogs seller Peter, and whereas you began first to him, so shall he there to you, and as he gaue you three cuffes, so shall you retort of in defiance of him, three [Page]blacke Iackes, which if he deny to pledge; then the glory is thine, and he accompted by the wise discretion of my Lord here a flincher.

Omnes

A very reasonable motion.

We.

Why so, this is better then being among mad-men yet.

Ha.

Were you so lately with any my Lord?

We.

Yes faith, Ile tell you all in the Seller, how I was taken for an Embassador, and being no sooner in the house, but the mad man carries mee vp into the garret for a spie, and very roundly bad me vntrusse, and had not a courteous seruing man conueied me away whilst he went to feteh whips I thinke in my conscience: not respecting my honour a would a breecht me.

Had.

By Lady, and t'was to be fear'd; but come my Lord wele heare the rest in the seller.

And honest Peter thou that hast beene greeued,
My Lord and I, will see thee well relieued.
Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Albert in the woodes.
How full of sweet content had this life beene,
If it had beene embraced but before
My burthenous conscience was so fraught with sinne;
But now my griefes oresway that happinesse:
O that some lecher or accurst betrayer:
Of sacred friendship, might but here arriue,
And reade the lines repentant on each tree,
That I haue caru'd t'expresse my misery:
My admonitions now, would sure eonuert,
The sinfulst creature; I could tell them now,
How idely vaine those humanes spend their liues,
That daily grieue not for offences past,
But to enioy some wantons company;
Which when obteyn'd, what is it, but a blot,
Which their whole liues repentance scarse can cleere:
I could now tell to friend betraying man,
How blacke sinne is hatefull trechery,
How heauy on their wretched soules t'will fit,
When fearefull death doth plant his siege but nere them,
How heauy and affrightfull will their end
Seeme to appeach them, as if then they knew,
The full beginning of their endlesse woe
VVere then appointed; which astonishment
O blest repentance keepe me Albert from!
And suffer not dispaire to ouer-whelme,
And make a ship-wracke of my heauy soule.
Enter Marialike a page.
Whose here, a Page: what blacke disasterous fate
Can be so cruell to his pleafing youth?
Ma.
So now Maria, here thou must forgoe
What nature lent thee to repaie to death;
Famine I thanke thee, I haue found thee kindest,
Thou set'st a period to my misery.
Al.
It is Maria that faire innocent,
Whom my abhorred lust hath brought to this;
Ile goe for sustenance: and O you powers!
If euer true repentance wan acceptance,
O shew it Albert now, and let him saue
His wronged beauty from vntimely graue.
Exit Albert.
Ma.
Sure some thing spake, or els my feebled sence
Hath lost the vse of its due property;
VVhich is more likely, then that in this place,
The voice of humane creature should be heard;
This is farre distant from the pathes of men,
Nothing breaths here but wilde and rauening beasts,
VVith ayry monsters, whose shaddowing wings doe seeme
To taste a vale of death in wicked liuers;
VVhich I liue dreadlesse of, and euery hower
Striue to meete death, who still vnkinde auoids me:
But that now gentle famine doth begin
For to giue end to my calamities.
See, here is caru'd vpon this trees smooth barke,
Lines knit in verse, a chaunce farre vnexpected;
Assist me breath a little to vnfold, what they include.
I that haue writ these lines, amone, whose sinne
The Wri­ting
Is more then grieuous; for know, that I haue beene
[Page]
A breaker of my faith, with one whose brest
Was all compos'd of truth: but I digrest.
And fled, them brats of his deare friendships loue,
Clasping to falshood did a vilane proue,
As thus shall be exprest: my worthy friend
Lou'd a faire beauty, who did condiscend
In dearest affection to his vertuous will
He then a night appointed to fulfill
Hymens blest-rites, and to conuey away
His loues faire person, to which peerelesse pray
I was acquainted made, and when the hower
Of her escape drew on, then lust did power
Inraged appetite through all my veines.
And base desires in me let loose the reines
To my licentious will, and that blacke night
When my friend should haue had his chast delight,
I fain'd his presence, and by her, thought him
Rob'd that faire virgin of her honors Iem:
For which most heynous, crime vpon each tree
I write this story that mens eyes may see,
None but a damn'd one would haue done like me.
Is Albert then become so penitent,
As in these desarts to deplore his facts,
Which his vnfain'd repentance seemes to cleere:
How good man is, when he laments his ill?
VVho would not pardon now that mans misdeeds,
Whose griefes bewaile them thus, could I now liue,
I'de remit thy fault with Carracus:
But death no longer will afford repreeue
Of my aboundant woes: wrong'd Carracus farewell,
Liue, and forgiue thy wrongs, for the repentance
Of him that eaus'd them, so deserues from thee;
And since my eyes do witnesse Alberts griefe,
I pardon Albert in my wrongs the chiefe.
Enter Albert like a Hermit.
Alb.
How pardon me, O sound Angelicall,
But see! shee faints, O heauens now shew your power,
That these distilled waters made in griefe,
[Page]
May ad some comfort to affliction:
Looke vp faire youth, and see a remedy.
Ma.
O who disturbs me, I was hand in hand,
VValking with death vnto the house of rest.
Al.
Let death walke by himselfe, if a want company,
Theres many thousands boy, whose aged yeeres
Haue tane a surfet of earths vanities,
They will goe with him, when he please to call,
To drinke my boy thy pleasing tender youth
Cannot deserue to dye, no, it is for vs,
VVhose yeeres are laden by our often sinnes,
Singing the last part of our blest repentance,
Are fit for death, and none but such as we,
Death ought to claime; for when a snatcheth youth,
It shewes him but a tyrant; but when age,
Then is a iust, and not compos'd of rage.
How fares my lad?
Ma.
Like one imbracing death withall his parts,
Reaching at life but with one little finger;
His minde so firmely knit vnto the first,
That vnto him the latter seemes to be
VVhat may be pointed at, but not possest.
Al.
O but thou shalt possesse it.
If thou didst feare thy death but as I doe,
Thou wouldst take pitty, though not of thy selfe,
Yet of my aged yeeres; trust me my boy,
Tha'st strucke such deepe compassion in my breast,
That all the moisture which prolongs my life,
VVill from my eyes gush forth, if now thou leau'st me.
Ma.
But can we liue here in this desart wood,
If not, ile die, for other places seeme,
Like tortures to my griefes, may I liue here?
Alb.
I, thou shalt liue with me, and I will I tell thee
Such strang occurrents of my fore-past life,
That all thy young sprung griefes shall seeme but sparkes
To the great fire of my calamities;
Then ile liue onely with you for to heare,
If any humane woes can be like mine;
[Page]
Yet since my being in this darkesome desart,
I haue read on tre [...] most lamentable stories.
Alb.
Tis true indeed, theres one within these woods
VVhose name is Albert, a man so full of sorrow,
That one each tree he passeth by he earues,
Such dolefull lines for his rash follies past,
That who so reades them, and not drown'd in teares;
Must haue a heart fram'd forth of Addamant.
Ma.

And can you helpe to the sight of him?

Alb.
I when thou wilt, bele often come to me,
And at my Caue sit a whole winters night,
Recounting of his stories, I tell thee boy
Had he offended more then did that man,
VVho stole the fire from heauen, his contrition
VVould appease all the gods, and quite reuert
Their wrath to mercy; but come my pretty boy
VVele to my Caue, and after some repose,
Relate the sequell of each others woes.
Exeunt.
Enter Carracus.
Ca.
What a way haue I come, yet I know not whither,
The ayers so cold this winter season,
I'me sure a foole, would any but an asse
Leaue a warme matted chamber and a bed,
To run thus in the cold, and which is more,
To seeke a woman, a slight thing cald woman,
Creatures, with curious nature fram'd as I suppose,
For rent receauers to her treasury;
And why I thinke so now, Ile giue you instance;
Most men doe know that natures selfe hath made them,
Most profitable members, then if so.
By often trading in the common wealth
They needs must be inricht, why very good,
To whom ought beauty then repaie this gaine
VVhich shee by natures gift hath profited;
But vnto nature? why all this I graunt,
VVhy then they shall no more be called woman,
For I will stile them thus, scorning their leaue,
Those that for nature doe much rent receaue.
[Page]
This is a wood sure, and as I haue read,
In woods are Eccho's which will answere men,
To euery question which they do propound:
Echo, Echo, Echo.
Ca.
O are you there, haue at ye then ifaith,
Echo canst tell me whether men or women
Are for the most part damb'd?
Echo most part damb'd.
Ca.
Of both indeed, how true this Echo speakes,
Echo, now tel me if mongst 1000. women,
There be one chaste, or none?
Echo, none.
Ca.
Why so I thinke, better and better still:
Now further Echo, in a world of men,
Is there one faithfull to his friend, or no?
Echo no.
Ca.
Thou speak'st most true, for I haue found it so;
Who sayd thou wast a woman Echo lies,
Thou couldst not then answere so much of truth,
Once more good Echo,
Was my Maria false by her owne desire,
Or wast against her will?
Echo against her wil.
Troth't may be so, but canst thou tell,
Whether she be dead or not?
Echo not.
Ca.

Not dead.

Echo not dead.

Then without question she doth surely liue: But I do trouble thee too much, therfore good speak truth, farewel.

Ec. farewel.
Ca.
How quick it answers, ô that Conncellors
Would thus refolue mens doubts without a fee.
How many country Clyents then might rest
Free from vndooing, no plodding pleader then
Would purchase great poffessions with his tongue;
Were I some demy-god, or had that power,
I'de straight make this Echo here a iudge;
Hee'd spend his iudgement in the open court,
As now to me, without being once solicited
In's priuate chamber, tis not bribes could win
Him to o're-sway mens right, nor could he be
Lead to damnation for a little pelfe;
He would not harbour malice in his heart,
Or enuious hatred, base dispight or grudge,
But be an vpright, iust, and equall Iudge;
[Page]
But now imagine that I should confront
Treacherous Albert, who hath rais'd my front.
But I feare this idle prate hath
Made me quite forget my cinque pace. he daunceth.
Enter Albert.
Alb.
I heard the Eccho answere vnto one,
That by his speech cannot be far remote
From of this ground, and see I haue discried him:
Oh heauens! its Carracus, whose reasons seate
Is now vsurpt by madnes, and distraction;
Which I the author of confusion
Haue planted here, by my accursed deeds.
Ca.

O are you come sir, I was sending the Tauerne-boy for ye, I haue been practising here, and can do none of my loftie trickes.

Alb.
Good sir, if any sparke do yet remaine
Of your consumed reason, let me striue.
Ca.
To blow it out, troth I most kindly thank you,
Heres friendship to the life; but father whay-beard,
Why should you thinke me void of reasons fire,
My youthfull dayes being in the height of knowledge?
I must confesse your old yeeres gaines experience;
But that's so much orer-ul'd by dotage,
That what you think experience shall effect,
Short memory destroies, what say you now sir?
Am I mad now, that can answere thus
To all intergatories?
Alb.
But though your words do sauor sir of iudgement,
Yet when they derogate from the due obseruance
Of fitting times, they ought not be respected,
No more, then if a man should tell a tale
Of fained mirth in midst of extreame sorrowes.
Ca.
How did you know my sorrowes sir?
What though I haue lost a wife,
Must I be therefore grieued; am I not happy
To be so freed of a continuall trouble?
Had many a man such fortune as I,
In what a heauen would they thinke themselues?
[Page]
Being releast of all those threatning cloudes,
Which in the angry skies, cal'd womens browes,
Sit euer menacing tempestuous stormes:
But yet I needs must tell you, old December,
My wife was cleere of this; within her browe,
Sh'ad not a wrinkle nor a storming frowne;
But like a smooth well polishe Inory.
It seem'd so pleasant to the looker on,
She was so kinde, of nature so gentle,
That if sh'ad done a fault shee'd straight go die for't:
Was not she then a rare one?
What weep'st thou aged Nestor?
Take comfort man, Troy was ordain'd by fate
To yeeld to vs, which we will ruinate.
Alb.
Good sir walke with me, but where you see
The shaddowing Elmes, within whose circling round
There is a holy spring about incompast,
By dandling siccamores and viol [...]es,
Whose waters cure all homane maladies:
Few drops thereof being sprinkled on your temples,
Reuiues your fading memory, and restores
Your sences lost vnto their perfect being.
Ca.
Is it cleere water sir, and very fresh?
For I am thirsty; giues it a better rellish
Then a cup of dead wine with sties in't?
Alb.

Most pleasant to the taste, pray will you goe.

Ca.

Faster then you I beleeue sir.

Exeunt.
Enter Maria.
Ma.
I am walkt forth from my preferuers caue,
To search about these woods, only to see
The penitent Albert, whose repentant minde
Each tree expresseth: ô that some power diuine
Would hither send my vertuous Carracus;
Not for my owne content, but that be might
See how his distrest friend repents the wrong,
Which his rash folly, most vnfortunate
Acted against him and me, which I forgiue
A hundred times a day, for that more often
[Page]
My eyes are witnes to his said complaints,
How the good Hermit seemes to share his mones,
Which in the day time he deplores'mongst trees,
And in the night his Caue is fild with sighs;
No other bed doth his weake limbs support
Then the cold earth, no other harmony
To rocke his cares asleepe, but blustering windes,
Or some swift Current, headlong rushing downe
From a high Mountaines top, powring his force
Into the Oceans gulfe, where being swallowed,
Seemes to be waile his fall with hideous words:
No other sustentation to suffice
What Nature claimes, but rawe vnsauowry rootes,
With troubled waters, where vntamed beasts,
Do bathe themselues:
Enter Satyrs, dance & Exeunt.
Ay me! what things are these?
What pretty harmelesse things they seeme to be?
As if delight had no where made abode,
But in their nimble sport.
Enter Albert.
Yonders the courteous Hermit, and with him
Albert it seeemes, ô see tis Carracus,
Ioy do not now confound me.
Ca.
Thanks vnto heauens & thee thou holy man,
I haue attain'd what doth adorne mans being,
That pretious Iemme of reason, by which soly,
We are discern'd from rude and brutish beasts,
No other difference being twixt vs and them.
How to repay this more then earthly kindnesse,
Lies not within my power, but in his
That hath indu'd thee with celestiall gifts,
To whom Ile pray, he may bestow on thee
What thou deserv'st, blest immortality.
Alb.
Which vnto you befall, thereof most worthy:
But vertuous sir, what I will now request
From your true generous nature, is, that you would
Be pleas'd to pardon that repentant Wight
Whose sinfull stories vpon you trees barke,
[Page]
Your selfe did reade, for that you say, to you
Those wrongs were done.
Ca.
Indeed they were, and to, a deere wife lost;
Yet I forgiue him, as I wish the heauens
May pardon me.
Ma.

So doth Maria to.

she discouers her selfe.
Ca.
Liues my Maria then? what gratious plannet
Gaue thee safe conduct to these desert woods?
Ma.
My late mishap (repented now by all,
And therfore pardon'd) compelled me to fly,
Where I had perished for want of foode,
Had not this courteous man awak't my sence,
In which, deaths selfe had partly interest.
Ca.
Alas Maria! I am so farre indebted
To him already, for the late recouery of
My owne weaknesse, that tis impossible
For vs to attribute sufficient thankes,
For such aboundant good.
Alb.
I rather ought to thanke the heauens Creator,
That he vouchsaf't me such especiall grace,
In dooing so small a good, which could I howerly
Bestowe on all, yet could I not asswage
The swelling rancor of my fore-past crimes.
Ca.
O sir, dispaire not for your course of life
(were your sinnes farre more odious then they be)
Doth moue compassion and pure clemency
In the al-ruling Iudge, whose powerfull mercy
Oreswayes his iustice, and extends it selfe
To all repentant mindes, hee's happier farre
That sinnes, and can repent him of his sinne;
Then the selfe iustifier, who doth surmise
By his owne workes to gaine saluation,
Seeming to reach at heauen and claspe damnation:
You then are happy, and our penitent friend,
To whose wisht presence please you now to bring vs,
That in our gladsome armes we infold
His much esteemed person, and forgiue
The iniuries of his rash follies past.
Alb.
[Page]
Then see false Albert prostrate at your feete,
he discouers himselfe.
Desiring Iustice for his haynous ill.
Ca.
Is it you Alberts selfe that hath preserv'd vs?
O blest bewailer of thy misery!
Ma.

And woful'st liuer in calamity.

Ca.
From which, right worthy friend, its now high time
You be releast, come then you shall with vs,
Our first and chiefest welcome my Maria,
We shall receaue at your good fathers house;
Who, as I do remember, in my frenzy
Sent a kinde letter which desired our presence.
Alb.
So please you, vertuous paire, Albert will stay,
And spend the remnant of this weary some life
In these darke woods.
Ca.
Then you neglect the comforts heauen doth send,
To your abode on earth, if you stay here
Your life may end in torture, by the cruelty
Of some wilde rauenous beasts, but if mongst men
When you depart, the faithfull prayers of many
Will much auaile, to crowne your soule with blisse.
Alb.
Lou'd Carracus, I haue found in thy conuerse
Comfort so blest, that nothing now but death,
Shall cause a separation in our being.
Ma.

Which heauen confirme.

Ca.
Thus by the breach of faith, our friendships knit
In stronger bonds of loue.
Alb.

Heauen so continue it.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Hogge in his chamber with Rebecka laying downe his bed, and seeming to put the keyes vnder his boulster conuayeth them into her pocket.
Ho

So, haue you layd the keyes of the outward dores vnder my boulster?

Re.

Yes forsooth.

Ho.
Go your way to bed then.
Exit Re.
[Page]
I wonder who did at the first inuent
These beds, the breeders of disease and sloth,
A was no souldier sure, nor no scholler,
And yet a might be vety well a Courtier;
For no good husband would haue bin so idle,
No Vsurer neither; yet here the bed affords
discouers his gold.
Store of sweet golden slumbers vnto him;
Here sleepes commaund in warre, Caesar by this
Obtain'd his triumphs, this will fight mans cause,
When fathers, brethren, and the neer'st of friends
Leaues to assist him, all content to this
Is meerely vaine, the louers whose affections
Do simpathize together in full pleasure,
Debarr'd of this their summer sodaine ends,
And care the winter to their former ioyes,
Breath's such a cold blast on their Turtles bils;
Hauing not this, to shrow'd him forth his stormes,
They straight are forc't to make a separation,
And so liue vnder those that rule ore this.
The Gallant, whose illustrious out-side drawes
The eyes of wantons to behold with wonder
Hir rare shap't parts, for so he thinks they be,
Deck't in the roabes of glistering gallantry:
Hauing not this, attendant on his person,
Walkes with a clowdy brow, and seemes to all
A great contemner of society;
Not for the hate he beares to company,
But for the want of this ability:
O siluer! thou that art the basest captiue
Kept in this prison: how many pale offendors
For thee haue suffered ruine; but ô my gold
Thy sight's more pleasing, then the seemely locks
Of yallow hair'd Apollo, and thy touch
More smooth and dainty, then the downe-soft white
Of Ladies tempting breast, thy bright aspect
Dimm's the great'st luster of heauens Waggoner.
But why goe I about to extoll thy worth,
Knowing that Poets cannot compasse it;
[Page]
But now giue place my gold for heres a power
Of greater glory and supremacy
Obscures thy being, here sits enthroniz'd
The sparkling diamond, whose bright reflection
Casts such a splendor on these other Iemmes,
Mongst which he so maiesticall appeares,
A flash of fire and Lightfoote ascends like a spirit.
As if— now my good angels guard me.
Li.
Melior vigilantia somno.
Stand not amaz'd good man, for what appeares
shall adde to thy content, be voide of feares,
I am the shaddow of rich Kingly Cressus,
Sent by his greatnes from the lower world
To make thee mighty, and to sway on earth
By thy aboundant store, as he himselfe doth
In Elizium; how he raigneth there,
His shaddow will vnfold, giue thou then eare.
In Vnder-ayre where faire Elizum stands
Beyond the riuer stiled Acharon,
He hath a Castle built of Adamant;
Not fram'd by vaine enchauntment, but there fixt,
By the all burning hands of warlike spirits,
Whose windowes are compos'd of purest christall,
And deckt within with orientall pearles:
There the great spirit of Cressus royall selfe,
Keepes his abode in ioyous happinesse;
He is not tortur'd there as Poets feine
With molten gold and sulphrie flames of fire,
Or any such molesting perturbation;
But there reputed as a demy-god,
Feasting with Pluto and his Proserpine,
Night after night with all delicious cates,
With greater glory then seauen kingdomes states.
Now further know the cause of my appearance,
The kingly Cressus hauing by fames trumpe,
Heard that thy lov'd desires stand affected
To the obtaining of aboundant wealth,
Sends me his shade, thus much to signifie,
That if thou wilt become famous on earth,
[Page]
Heele giue to thee euen more then infinite;
And after death with him thou shalt pertake
The rare delights beyond the stigian lake.
Hog.

Great Cressus shaddow may dispose of me to what hee pleaseth.

Li.
So speakes obediency.
For which ile raise thy lowly thoughts as high,
As Cressus were in his mortality;
Stand then vndaunted whil'st I raise those spirits,
By whose laborious taske and industry,
Thy treasure shall abound and multiply.
Ascend Ascarion thou that art a powerfull spirit and dost con­uert siluer to gold, I say ascend and one me Cresus shade at­tend to worke the pleasure of his will. the Player appeares.
Pla.
What would then Cresus list to fill
Some mortals cofers vp with gold,
Chaunging the siluer it doth hold:
By that pure mettle ift be so,
By the infernall gates I sweare,
Where Radamanth doth dominere:
By Cresus name and by his castle,
Where winter nights he keepeth wassell;
By Demogorgon and the fates,
And by all these low country states;
That after knowledge of thy minde,
Ascarion like the swift pac't winde,
Will flye to finish thy commaund.
Li.
Take then this siluer out of hand,
And beare it to the Riuer Tagus,
Beyond th'aboade of Archi Magus;
Whose golden sands vpon it cast,
Transforme it into gold at last:
Which being effected straight retourne,
And suddaine too, or I will spurne
This truncke of thine into the pit,
Where all the hellish furies sit,
[Page]
Scratching their eyes out quicke begon.
Pla.

Swifter in course then doth the Sunne.

Exit player.
Li.
How fair'st thou mortall be? not terrified
At these infernall motions, know that shortly
Great Cressus ghost shall in the loue he beares thee,
Giue thee sufficient power by thy owne worth,
To raise such spirits.
Hog.
Cressus is much too liberall in his fauour,
To one so farre desertlesse as poore Hog.
Li
Poore Hogge, O speake not that word poore againe,
Least the whole apsetree of Cressus bounty,
Crackt into shiuers ouerthrow thy fortunes,
For he abhorres the name of pouerty,
And will grow sicke to heare it spoke by those.
VVhom he intends to raise; but see the twi-light
Posteth before the Charriot of the Sunne,
Brings word of his approch:
VVe must be suddaine, and with speed raise vp
The spirit Bazan: that can straight transforme
Gold into pearle; be still and circumspect.
Bazon ascend vp from the treasure of Pluto, where thou did'st at pleasure metamorphise all his gold into pearle, which boue a thousand folde exceeds the valew, quickly rise to Cresus shade, who hath a prise to be performed by thy strength.
Bazon ascends.
Bazon
I am no Fencer, yet at length
From Plutoes presence and the Hall,
VVhere Proserpine keepes festiuall,
I'me hether come and now I see,
To what intent 'Ime rai'sd by thee;
It is to make that mortall rich,
That at his fame mens eares may itch;
VVhen they doe heare but of his store.
He hath one daughter and no more;
VVhich all the lower powers decree,
Shee to one Wealthy wedded be;
By which coniunction there shall spring,
Young heires to Hogge whereon to fling:
His masse of treasure when a dies,
[Page]
Thus Bazon truely prophesies:
But come my taske I long to reare,
His fame aboue the Hemy-spheare.
Li.
Take then the gould which here doth lie.
And quicke retourne it by and by;
All in choise pearle whither to goe,
I need not tell you, for you know.
Ho.

Indeed I doe, and Hogge shall finde it so.

Exit Had.
Li.
Now mortall there is nothing doth remaine,
Twixt thee and thine aboundance, onely this
Turne thy eyes westward, for from thence appeareth
Ascarion with thy gould, which hauing brought
And at thy foote surrendred, make obeysance;
Then turne about and fix thy tapers westward,
From whence great Bazon brings thy orient pearle;
VVho'le lay it at thy feet much like the former.
Hog.

Then I must make to him obeysance thus.

Li.
VVhy so, in meane time Cressus shade will rest
Vpon thy bed, but aboue all take heed,
You suffer not your eies to stray aside,
From the direct point I haue set thee at:
For though the spirit do delay the time,
And not retourne your treasure speedily.
Hog.
Let the losse light on me, if I neglect
I ouerslip what Cressus suit commaunde.
Lo.

So now practise standing, though it be nothing agreea­ble to your hogs age, let me see among these writings is my ne­phew Haddits mortgage; but in taking that it may breed sus­pect on vs, wherefore this boxe of Iewels will stand farre better and let that alone, it is now breake of day, and nere by this the marriage is confirm'd betwixt my Cosen & great Cressus friends daughter here, whom I would now leaue to his most weighty cogitation

So gentle sir adue, time not permits
To heare those passions and those franticke fits;
Your subiect to when you shall find how true,
Great Cressus shade hath made an asse of you.
Hog.

Let me now ruminate to my selfe why Cressus should be so great a fauorer to me, & yet to what end should I desire to [Page]know I thinke it is sufficient, it is so, and I would a had beene so sooner, for he and his spirits would haue saued me much la­bour in the purchasing of wealth; but then indeed it would haue beene the confusion of 2. or 3. Scriueners, which by my meanes haue beene properly rais'd: but now imagine this onely a tricke whereby I may be guld; but how can that be? are not my dores lockt, haue I not seene with my owne eyes the ascending of the spirits? haue I not heard with my owne eares the inuocations wherewith they were rais'd? could any but spirits appeare through so firme a sloore as this is? tis impossible: But harke, I heare the spirit Ascarion comming with my gould, O bountiful Cressus; Ile build a temple to thy mightinesse.

Enter young Lo. Welthy and Peter.
We.

O Peter, how long haue we slept vpon the hogshead?

Pe.

I thinke a dosen howers my Lord, and tis nothing, Ile vndertake to sleepe sixteene, vpon the receipt of two cups of muskadine.

We.

I maruell what's become of Haddit and Lighfoote?

Pe.

Hang'em flinchers they sluncke away as soone as they had druncke as much as they were able to carry, which no ge­nerous spirit would a done in deed.

We.

Yet I beleeue Had. had his part, for to my thinking the seller went round with him when a left vs, but are we come to a bed yet? I must needs sleepe.

Pe.

Come softly by any meanes, for we are now vpon the threshold of my masters chamber, through which ile bring you to Mistris Rebeckaes lodging, giue me your hand and come very nicely.

Peter fals into the hole.
We.

Where art Peter.

Pe.O oh o.
We.

Wheres this noyse Peter canst tell?

Hog,

I heare the voice of my adopted sonne in law.

We.

Why Peter wilt not answere me?

Pe.

O my Lord aboue, stand still, I am falne downe at least 30. fathome deepe, if you stand not still till I recouer and haue lighten a candle, y'are but a dead man.

Hog.

I am rob'd, I am vndone, I am deluded, whose in my chamber?

We.
[Page]

Tis I, the Lord your sonne that shall be, vpon my honor I came not to rob you.

Hog.

I shall run mad, I shall run mad.

Wel.

Why then tis my fortune to be terrifide with madmen.

Enter Peter with a candle.
Pe.

Where are you my Lord?

Hog.

Here my Lady? where are you rogue when theeues breake into my house?

Pe.

Breaking my necke in your seruice a plague ont.

We.

But are you rob'd indeed father Hogge, of how much I praye?

Hog.

Of all, of all; see here, they haue left me nothing but 2. or 3. roles of parchment, here they came vp like spirits, & tooke my siluer, gold, and Iewels; wheres my daughter?

Pe.

Shees not in the house sir? the streete doores are wide open.

We.

Nay tis no matter where shee is now? shele scarce be worth a 1000. pound and thats but a taylors prise.

Ho.

Then youle not haue her sir?

We.

No as I hope to liue in peace.

Hog.

Why bee't so, bee't so, confusion cannot come in a more fitter time on all of vs: O bountifull Cressus, how fine thy shaddow hath deuoured my substance.

Pe.

Good my Lord promise him to marry his daughter, or a will be mad presently, though you neuer intend to haue her.

We.

Well father Hogge, though you are vndone, your daughter shall not be, so long as a Lords can stand her in any stead: come you shall with me to my Lord and father, whose warrants wee will haue for the apprehending of all suspitious liues, and though the labour be infinite, you must consider your losse is so.

Hog.

Come, ile doe any thing to gaine my golde.

Pe.

Till which be had, my fare will be but cold.

Exeunt.
Enter Haddit, Rob. Lightfoote, and Priest.
Had.

Now Mr. Parson we will no further trouble you, and for the tying of our true loue knot, heres a small amends.

Prie.
Tis more then due sir, yet ile take it all,
Should kindnesse be dispis'd, good will would fall.
[Page]
Vnto a lower ebbe, should we detest
The gratefull giuers gift,
Verissimo est.
Had.

It's true indeed, good morrow honest Parson.

Pe.
Yet if you please, sir Iohn will backe surrender
The ouerplus of what you now did tender.
Ha.

O by no meanes, I pree thee friend, good-morrow.

Li
Why if you please Sir Iohn to me restore,
The ouerplus ile giue it to the poore.
Pe.
O pardon sir, for by our worships leaue,
We ought to giue from whence we doe receaue.
Had.

VVhy then to me sir Iohn.

Pri.

To all a kinde good morrow.

Exit Priest.
Ha.

A most fine Vicar, there was no other meanes to be rid of him: but why are you so sad Rebecka?

Re.
To thinke in what estate my father is?
VVhen he beholds that he is meerely guld.
Had.

Nay be not grieu'd, for that which should rather giue you cause of content, for 'twill be a meanes to make him aban­don his auarice, and saue a soule almost incurable: but now to our owne affaires, this marriage of ours must not yet be known least it breed suspition, we will bring you Rebeck a vnto Atlas his house, whil'st we two goe vnto the old Lord Welthies, hauing some acquaintance with his sonne in law Carracus, who I vn­derstand is there, where no question but we shall finde your fa­ther proclaiming his losse, thether you shall come some what after vs, as it were to seeke him, where I doubt not but so to or­der the matter, that I will receaue you as my wife, from his own hands.

Re.

May it so happy proue.

Li.

Amen say I, for should our last tricke be knowne, great Cressus shade would haue a coniured time ont.

Had.

Tis true, his Castle of Addamant would scarce holde him: but come this will be good cause for laughter hereafter.

Then wele relate how this great bird was puld,
Of his rich fethers, and most finely guld.
Exeunt.
Enter old Lo. Welthy with Car. Ma. and Albert.
Lo.
More welcome Carrucus, then friendly truce
[Page]
To a besieged Citty all distrest;
How early this glad morning are you come
To make me happy, for pardon of your offence
I'ue giuen a blessing, which may heauen confirme,
In trebble manner on your vertuous liues.
And may our liues and duty daily striue,
To be found worthy of that louing fauour,
Which from your reuerent age we now receaue,
Without desert, or merrit.
Enter young Wel. Hogge & Peter.
We.
Roome for a desirer of Iustice, what my sister Maria;
Who thought to haue met you here?
Ma.

You may see brother, vnlook't for guests proofe of­ten troublesome.

We.

Well, but is your husband there any quieter then a was?

Ca.

Sir, I must desire you to forget all iniuries, if, in not be­ing my selfe, I offered you any.

Alb.

Ile see that peace concluded.

We.

Which I agree to, for patience is a vertue father Hogge.

Ho.

Was it you sonne that cride so loud for iustice?

We.

Yes marry was it, and this the party to whome it apper­taines.

Ho.

O my most honored lord I am vndone, rob'd this black night of all the wealth and treasure, which these many yeeres I haue howerly labored for.

Lo.

And who are those haue done this outrage to you?

Ho.

Oh knew I that, I then my lord were happy.

Lo.

Come you for Iustice then, not knowing 'gainst whom the course of Iustice should extend it selfe?

Nor yet suspect you none?
Ho.

None but the diuell.

We.

I thought a was a Cheater, ere since I heard two or three Templers sweare at dice the last Christmas, that the diuel had got all.

Enter Haddit and Lightfoote.
Ha.

My kinde acquaintance. Ioy to thy good successe.

Ca.

Noble, and free-borne Haddit, welcome.

Li.

M r. Hogge good-day.

Ho.

For I haue had a bad night on't

Li.

Sicknesse is incident to age, what be the writings ready [Page]to be sealed, wee intreated last day.

Ho.

Yes I thinke they are, would the Scriuiner were paid for the making them.

Li.

A shalbe so, though I doote my selfe, is the mony put vp as I appointed?

Ho.

Yes tis put vp, confusion cease the receiuers.

Li.

Heauen blesse vs all, what meane you sir?

Ho.
O sir, I was robb'd this night of all I had,
My daughter to is lost, and I vndone.
Li.

Marry, God forbid, after what manner I pray.

Ho.
O to recount sir will breede more ruth,
Then did the tale of that high Troian Duke,
To the sad fated Carthagenian Queene.
Ha.

What exclamations that?

Li.
What you will grieue at Coze,
Your worshipfull friend M. Hogge is robb'd.
Ha.

Rob'd, by whom or how?

Li.

O theres the griefe, a knowes not whome to suspect.

Ha.

The feare of hell oretake them whatsoere they be: but wheres your daughter, I hope she is safe.

Enter Re.
Ho.

Thankes heauen, I see shee's now so, where hast thou been my girle?

Re.

Alas sir, carried by amazemēt, I know not where, pursu'd by the robbers forc't to fly as mad affright, through al the City streets to seek redresse, but that lay fast asleepe in all mens hou­ses, nor would lend an eare to the distrest.

Ha.
O heauy accident, but see you grieue too much,
Being your daughter's found, for th'other losse;
Since tis the will of heauen to giue and take,
Value it as nothing, you haue yet sufficient
To liue in blest content, had you no more
But my small mortgage for your daughter here;
Whom I haue euer lov'd in deer'st affection,
If so you please so much to fauour me,
I will accept her spight of pouerty,
And make her iointure of some store of land,
Which by the losse of a good aged friend
Late fell to me, what ist a match or no.
Ho.
It is.
[Page]
Then Ile haue witnesse on't, my lord and gent.
Please you draw neere, to be here witnesses
To a wisht contract, twixt this maid and I.
Omnes

We all are willing.

Ho.

Then in the presence of you all, I giue my daughter free­ly to this gent. as wife, and to shew how much I stand affected to him for dowry with her, I doe backe restore his mortgag'd lands, and for their loues I vowe, euer hereafter to detest, re­nounce, loath and abhorre all slauish auarice:

Which doth ascend from hell, sent by the diuell,
To be 'mongst men the actor of all euill.
Om.

A blest conuersion.

Lo.
A good far vnexpected, and now gentlemen,
I do enuite you all to feast with me
This happy day, that we may altogether
Applaud his good successe, and let this day be spent,
In sports and shewes with gladsome merriment:
Come blest conuerted man wcele lead the way,
As vnto heauen I hope we shall.
Ho.

Heauen graunt we may.

Ca.
Come my Maria and repent [...]nt friend,
Wee three haue tasted worst of misery,
Which now adde ioy to our felicity.
Ha.
We three are happy wee haue gain'd much wealth,
And though we haue done it by a tricke of stealth,
Yet all I trust are pleas'd, and will our ill acquite,
Since it hath sau'd a soule was hells by right.
We.
To follow after then, our lot doth fall,
Now rime it Peter.
Pe.

A good night to all.

Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.

EPILOGVE.

NOW expectation hath at full receiued
What we late promised, if in ought we haue pleased,
Tis all vve sought to accomplish, and much more
Then our vveake merrit dares to attribute
Vnto it selfe, till you vouchsafe to dayne
In your kinde censure, so to gratifie
Our triuiall labours: —
If it hath pleased the iudiciall eare,
Wee haue our Authors wish, and void of feare
Dare ignorant men, to shew their worst of hate.
It not detracts, but adds vnto that state
Where desert florisheth.
Weele rest applouded in their derogation,
Though with an hisse they crowne that confirmation:
For this our Author saith, ift proue distastfull,
He onely grieues you spent two houres so wast-full:
But if it like, and you affect his pen,
You may commaund it when you please agen.

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