Scaena Prima.

Stay Taylour, This is the House, pray thee looke the gowne be not rufled: as for the Iewels and Pretious Stones, I know where to finde them ready presently. Shee that must weare this gowne if she wil receiue it, is Maister Iustinianos wife (the Italian Mar­chant) my good old Lord and Maister, that hath beene a Tylter this twenty yeere, hath sent it. Mum Taylor, you are a kinde of Bawd. Taylor, if this Gentlewomans Husband should chance to bee in the way now, you shall tell him that I keepe a Hot-house in Gunpowder Ally (neere crouched Fryers) and that I haue brought home his wiues foule Linnen, and to co­lour my knauery the better, I have heere three or foure kindes of complexion, which I will make shewe of to sell vnto her: the young Gentlewoman hath a good Citty wit, I can tell you, shee hath red in the Italian Courtyer, that it is a speciall ornament to gentlewomen to haue skill in painting.

Is my Lord acquainted with her?

O, I.

Faith Mistris Birdlime I doe not commend my Lordes choyce so well: now me thinkes he were better to set vp a Dairy, and to keepe halfe a score of lusty wholesome honest Countrey Wenches.

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Honest Coun [...]rey Wenches, in what hundred shall a man find two of that simple vertue?

Or to loue some Lady, there were equality and coherence.

Taylor, you talk like an asse, I tel thee ther is equality inough betweene a Lady and a Citty dame, if their haire be but of a co­lour: name you any one thing that your cittizens wi [...]e coms sho [...]t of to your Lady. They haue as pure Linnen, as choyce painting, lou [...] greene Greese in spring, Mallard and Teale in the fall, and Woodcocke in winter. Your Cittizens wife learnes nothing but fopperies of your Ladie, but your Lady or Iustice-a-peace Ma­dam, carries high wit from the Citty, namely, to receiue all and pay all: to awe their Husbands, to check their Husbands, to con­troule their husbands; nay, they haue the tricke ont to be sick for a new gowne, or a Carcanet, or a Diamond, or so: and I wist this is better wit, then to l [...]ar [...]e how to weare a Scotch Farthingale: nay more.

Heere comes one of the seruants: you remember Taylor that I am deafe: obserue that.

I thou art in that like one of our young [...]ull [...]s, that will not vnderstand any wrong is done him, because hee dares not an­swer it.

By your leaue Batcheller: is the gentlewoman your Mi­ [...]tris stirring?

Yes she is moouing.

What sayes he?

Shee is vp.

Wheres the Gentleman your Maister, pray you?

Wher many women desire to haue their husbands, abroad.

I am very thicke of hearing.

Why abroad? you smell of the Bawd.

I pray you tell her heres an olde Gentlewoman would speake with her.

So.

What, will you be deafe to the gentlewoman when shee comes to?

O no, shees acquainted well inough with my kn [...]uery.

[Page] She comes.

How do you sweet Ladie?

Lady.

By Gods me I hope to call you Lady eare you dye, what mistris do you sleepe well on nights.

Sleepe, Ias quietly as a Clyent hauing great businesse with Lawyers.

Come, I am come to you about the old suit: my good Lord and maister hath sent you a veluet gowne h [...]are: doe you like the colour? three p [...]le, a pretty fantasticall trimming, I would God you would say it by my troth. I dreamt last night, you lookt so prettily, so sweetly, me thought so like the wisest Lady of them al, in a veluet gowne.

Whats the forepart?

A very pretty stuffe, I know not the name of your forepart, but tis of a haire colour.

That it was my hard fortune, beeing so well brought vp, hauing so great a portion to my marriage, to match so vnlucki­ly? Why my husband and his whole credit is not worth my ap­parell, well, I shall vndergoe a strange repo [...]t in leauing my hus­band.

Tush, if you respect your credit, neuer thinke of that, for beauty couets tich appatell, [...]hoyce dyet, excellent Physicke, [...]o German Clock no Mathematicall Ingin: whatsoeuer requires so much reparation as a womans face, and what meanes hath your Husband to allow sweet Docter Glister-pipe, his pention. I haue heard that you haue threescore Smocks, that co [...]t three poundes a Smocke, will these smockes euer hold out with your husband? no, your linnen and your apparell must turne ouer a new [...]lease▪ I can tell you.

O admirable Bawd? O excellent Birdline?

I haue heard he loued you before you were ma [...]ryed intyrely, what of that? I haue euer found it most true in myne owne experyenc [...], that they which are most violent dotards before their marryage are most voluntary Coucouldes af­ter. Many are honest, either because they haue not wist, or be­cause they haue▪ not opportunity to be dishonest, and this Italian your Husbands Countryman, holdes it impo [...]ible any of [Page] their Ladies should be excellent witty, and not make the vtter­most vse of their beauty, will you be a foole then?

Thou do'st perswade me to Ill, very well.

You are nice and p [...]euish, how long will you holde out thinke you? not so long as Ostend.

'Passion of me, your husband? Remember that I am deafe, and that I come to sell you complexion: truely Mi [...]tris I will deale very reasonably with you.

What are you? Say ye?

I forsooth.

What my most happy wife?

Why your I [...]aliousie?

Iealiousie: in faith I do not feare to loose that I haue lost already: What are you?

Please your good worship I am a poor Gentlewoman, that cast away my selfe vppon an vnthrifty Captaine, that liues now in Ireland, I am [...]aine to picke out a poore liuing with selling com­plexion, to keepe the frailty (as they say) honest.

Whats he? complexion to? you are a bawd.

I thanke your good worship for it.

I haue of all sorts forsooth? Heere is the burned powder of a Hogs Iaw-bone, to be laide with the Oyle of white Poppy, an excellen [...] [...]cus to kill Morphew, weede out Freckles, and a most excellent ground-worke for painting; Heere is Ginimo [...]y likewise burnt, and puluerized, to be mingled with the iuyce of Lymmons, sublimate Mercury, and two spoonefuls of the flow­ers of Brimstone, a most excellent receite to cure the flushing in the face.

Doe you heare, if you haue any businesse to dispatch with that deafe goodnesse there, pray you take leaue: opportunity, that which most of you long for (though you neuer bee with Child) opportunity? Ile find some idle businesse in the mean time, I wil, I will in truth, you shall not neede feare me, or you may speake French, most of your kinds can vnderstand French: god buy you. [Page] Being certaine thou art false: sleepe, sleepe my braine, for doubt was onely that, which fed my paine.

You see what a hel I liue in, I am resolu'd to leaue him.

O the most fortunat Gentlewoman, that will be so wise, and so, so prouident, the Caroche shall come.

At what houre?

Iust when women & vintners are a cuni [...]ring at midnight. O the entertainment my Lord will make you, sweet Wines, lusty dyet, perfumed linnen, soft beds, O most fortunat Gentlewo­man.

Haue you done? haue you dispatch? tis well, and in troth what was the motion?

Motion, what motion?

Motion, why like the motion in law, that staies for a day of hearing, yours for a night of hearing. Come lets not haue Apri [...]l in your eyes I pray you, it shewes a wanton month followes your weeping? Loue a woman for her tea [...]es? Let a man loue Oist [...]rs for their water, for women though they shoulde weepe [...]cour enough to serue a Dyer, or a Brewer, yet they may bee as stale as Wenches, that trauaile euery second tyde betweene Graues ende, and Billingsga [...]e.

This madnesse shewes very well.

Why looke you, I am wonderous merry, can any man dis­cerne by my face, that I am a Cuckold? I haue known many sus­pected for men of this misfortune; when they haue walkt tho­row the streetes, weare their hats ore their eye-browes, like polli­tick pen [...]houses, which commonly make the shop of a Mercer, or a Linnen Draper, as dark as a roome in Bedlam. His cloak shrou­ding his face, as if he were a Neopolitan that had lost his beard in Aprill, and if he wa'k through the street, or any other narrow read (as tis rate to meete a Cuckold) hee duckes at the penthouses, like an Antient that dares not flourish at the oath taking of the Pretor, for feare of the signe-posts? Wife, wife, do I any of these? Come what newes from his Lordship? has not his Lordships ver­tue once gone against the haire, and coueted corners.

Sir, by my soule I will be plaine with you.

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Except the forehead deere wife, except the forehead.

The Gentleman you spake of hath often solici­ted my loue, and hath receiued from me most chast denials.

I, I, prouoking resistance, tis as if you come to buy wares in the Citty, bid mony fort, your Mercer, or Gold-smith sayes, truely I cannot take it, lets his customer passe his stall; next, nay perhaps two, or three, but if he finde he is not prone to returne of himselfe, hee cals him backe, and backe, and takes his mony: so you my deere wife, (O the pollicy of women, and Tradsmen: theile bite at any thing.)

What would you haue me do? all your plate and most part of your Iewels are at pawne, besides I heare you haue made ouer all your esta [...]e to men in the Towne heer? What would you haue me do? would you haue mee turne common sinner, or sell my apparell to my wastcoat and become a Landresse?

No Landresse deere wife, though your credit would goe farre with Gentlemen for taking vp of Linnen: no Landresse?

Come, come, I will speake as my misfortune prompts me, Iealiousie hath vndone many a Cittizen, it hath vndone you, and me. You married me from the [...]eruice of an honorable Lady, and you knew what matches I mought haue had, what woulde you haue me to do? I would I had neuer seene your eies, your eies.

Very good, very good.

Your prodigality, your diceing, your riding abroad, your consorting your selfe with Noble men, your building a sum­mer house hath vndone vs, hath vndoone vs? What would you haue me doe?

Any thing: I haue sold my House, and the wares int? I am going for Stoad next tide, what will you do now wife?

Haue you indeed?

I by this light als one, I haue done as some Cittizens at thir­ty, and most heires at three and twenty, made all away, why doe you not aske me now what you shall do?

I haue no counsell in your voiag [...], neither shall you haue any in mine.

To his Lordship: wil you not wife?

Euen whether my misfortune leades me.

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Goe, no longer will I make my care thy prison.

O my fate; well sir, you shall answere for this sinne which you force mee to; fare you well, let not the world con­demne me, if I seeke for mine owne maintenance.

So, so.

Do not send me any letters; do not seeke any re­concilement. By this light Ile receiue none, if you will send mee my apparell so, if not choose, I hope we shall neare-meete more.

So, farewell the acquaintance of all the mad Deuils that haunt Iealiousie, why should a man bee such an asse to play the antick for his wiues appetite? Immagine that I, or any other great man haue on a veluet Night-cap, and put case that this night-cap be to little for my eares or forehead, can any man tell mee where my Night-cap wringes me, except I besuch an asse to proclaime it; Well, I do play the foole with my misfortune very hand som­ly. I am glad that I am certaine of my wiues dishonesty; for a se­cret strumpet, is like mines prepard to ruine goodly buildings. Farewel my care, I haue told my wife I am going for Stoad; thats not my course, for I resolue to take some shape vpon me, and to liue disguised heere in the Citty; they say for one Cuckolde to knowe that his friend is in the like head-ake, and to giue him counsell, is as if there were two partners, the one to bee arrested, the other to baile him: my estate is made oue [...] to. My friends, that doe verily beleeue, I meane to leaue England. Haue amongst you Citty dames? You that are indeede the fittest, and most proper persons for a Comedy, nor let the world lay any imputation vp­on my disguise, for Court, Citty, and Countrey, are meerely as maskes one to the other, enuied of some, laught at of others, and so to my comicall businesse.

Moll.

What would hart?

Wheres my Casheire, are the summes right? Are the bonds seald?

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Yea sir.

Will you haue the bags seald?

O no sir, I must disburs instantly▪ we that be Courty­ers haue more plac [...]s to send mony to, then the diuell hath to send his spirits: theres a great deale of light gold.

O sir, twill away in play, and you will stay till to morrow you shall haue it all in new soueraignes.

No, in-troth tis no matter, twill a way in play, let me see the bond? let me see when this mony is to bee paid? the tenth of August. The first day that I must tender this mony, is the first of Dog-daies.

I feare twill be hot staying for you in London then.

Scriuener, take home the bond with you. Will you stay to dinner sir? Haue you any Partridge Moll?

No in-troth hart, but an excellent pickeld Goose, a new seruice: pray you stay.

Sooth I cannot: by this light I am so infinitly, so vnboun­dably beholding to you?

Well Signior, Ile leaue you; My cloake there?

When will you come home hart?

Introth selfe I know not, a friend of yours and mine hath broke.

Who sir?

Maister Iustini [...]no the Italian.

Broke sir.

Yea sooth, I was offred forty yesterday vpon the Exchange, to assure a hundred.

By my troth I am sorry.

And his wife is gone to the party.

Gone to the party? O wicked creature?

Farewell good maister Monopoly, I pre-thee visit mee of­ [...]n.

Little Moll, send away the fellow?

Phill. Phillip.

Heere forsooth.

Go into Bucklers-bury and fetch me two ounces of pre­serued Melounes, looke there be no Tobacco taken in the shoppe when he weighes it.

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I forsooth.

What doe you eate preserued Melonnes for Moll?

Introth for the shaking of the hart, I haue heere some­time such a shaking, and downwards such a kind of earth-quake (as it were.)

Doe you heare, let your man carry home my mony to the ordinary, and lay it in my Chamber, but let him not tell my host that it is mony: I owe him but forty pound, and the Rogue is hasty, he will follow me when he thinks I haue mony, and pry in­to me as Crowes perch vpon Carion, and when he hath found it out, prey vpon me as Heraldes do vpon Funerals.

Come, come, you owe much mony in Towne: when you haue forfeited your bond, I shall neare see you more?

You are a Monky, Ile pay him for's day: Ile see you tomorrow to.

By my troth I loue you very honestly, you were neuer the gentleman offred any vnciuility to me, which is strange methinks in one that comes from beyond Seas, would I had giuen a Thou­sand pound I could not loue thee so.

Do you heare, you shall faine some scuruy dysease or o­ther, and go to the Bath next spring,

Ile meete you there.

By your leaue sweet mistris Tenterhooke.

O, how dost partner?

Gentlewomen I stayed for a most happy wind, and now the [...] your sweet, sweet lips, should set me going: good mistris Honisuckle; good mistris Wafer, good mistris Tenterhooke, I will pray for you, that neither riuallshippe in loues, purenesse of painting, or riding out of town, not acquainting each other with­it, be a cause your sweet beautyes do fall out, and raile one vpon another.

Raile sir, we do not vse to raile.

Why mistris, railing is your mother tongue as well as lying.

But, do you thinke we can fall out?

In troth beauties (as one spake seriously) that there was no inheritance in the amity of Princes, so thinke I of Wo­men, [Page] too often interviewes amongst women, as amongst Princes, breeds enuy oft to others fortune, there is only in the amity of wo­men an estate for will, and euery puny knowes that is no certaine inheritance.

You are merry sir.

So may I leaue you most fortunat gentlewoman.

Loue shoots heare.

Tenterhooke, what Gentleman is that gon out, is he a man?

O God and an excellent Trumpetter, He came lately from the vniuersity, and loues Citty dames only for their victuals, he hath an excellent trick to keepe Lobsters and Crabs sweet in summer, and cals it a deuise to prolong the dayes of shel-fish, for which I do suspect he hath beene Clarke to some Noblemans kitchen. I haue heard he neuer loues any Wench, tell shee bee as stale as Frenchmen eate their wilde foule, I shall anger her.

How stale good Mistris nimble-wit?

Why as stale as a Country Ostes, an Exchange Sempster, or a Court Landresse.

He is your consin, how your tongue runs?

Talke and make a noise, no matter to what purpose, I haue learn'd that with going to puritan Lectures. I was yesterday at a banquet, wil you discharge my ruffes of some wafers, and how doth thy husband Wafer?

Faith very well.

He is iust like a Torch bearer to Maskers, he wears good cloathes, and is rankt in good company, but he doth nothing: thou art faine to take al, and pay all.

The more happy she, would I could make such an asse of my husband to. I heare say he breeds thy childe in his teeth euerie yeare.

In faith he doth.

By my troth tis pitty but the foole shoulde haue the other two paines incident to the head.

What are they?

Why the head-ake and horne-ake. I heard say that he would haue had thee nurst thy Childe thy selfe to.

That he would truely.

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Why theres the policy of husbands to keepe their Wines in. I doe assure you if a VVoman of any markeable face in the Worlde giue her Childe sucke, looke how many wrinckles be in the Nipple of her breast, so many will bee in her forheade by that time twelue moneth: but sirra, we are come to acquaint thee with an excellent secret: we two learne to write.

To write?

Yes beleeue it, and wee haue the finest Schoole maister, a kind of Precision, and yet an honest knaue to: by my troth if thou beest a good wench let him teach thee, thou mayst send him of a­ny arrant, and trust him with any secret; nay, to see how demurely he will beare himselfe before our husbands, and how iocand when their backes are turn'd.

For Gods loue let me see him.

To morrow weele send him to thee: til then sweet Tenter­hook we leaue thee, wishing thou maist haue the fortune to chāge thy name often.

How? change my name?

I, for theeues and widdowes loue to shift many names, and make sweet vse of it to.

O you are a wag indeed. Good Wafer remember my school master. Farewel good Hon [...]suckle.

Farewel Tenterhooke.

Scaena Prima.

Beniface, make an ende of my cloake and Cap.

I haue dispatch em Sir: both of them lye flat at your mer­cie.

Fore-god me thinkes my ioynts are nimbler euery Mor­ning [Page] since I came ouer then they were before. In France when I rise, I was so stiffe, and so starke, I would ha sworne my Legs had beene wodden pegs: a Constable new chosen kept not such a pe­ripateticall gate: But now I'me as Lymber as an Antiant that has flourisht in the raine, and as Actiue as a Norfolk tumbler.

You may see, what change of pasture is able to doe.

It makes fat Calues in Rumny Marsh, and leane knaues in London: therefore Boniface keepe your ground: Gods my pit­ty, my forehead has more cromples, then the back part of a coun­sellors gowne, when another rides vppon his necke at the barre: Boniface take my helmet: giue your mistris my night-cap. Are my Antlers swolne so big that my biggen pinches my browes. So, request her to make my head-piece a little wyder.

How much wider sir.

I can allow her almost an y [...]ch: go, tell her so, very neere an inch.

If she bee a right Cittizens wife, now her Husband has giuen her an inch, sheele take an ell, or a yard at least.

Maister Parenthesis! Salue, Salue Domine.

Salue tu quo (que) Iubeo te saluere plurimum.

No more Plurimums if you loue me, lattin whole-meate [...] are nowe minc'd, and serude in for English Gallimafries: Let vs therefore cut out our vplandish Neates tongues, and talke like regenerate Brittains.

Your worship is welcome to England: I powrd out Ori­sons for your arriuall.

Thanks good maister Parenthesis: and Que nouelles: what newes flutters abroad? doe Iack-dawes dung the top of Paules Steeple still.

The more is the pitty, if any dawes do come into the tem­ple, as I feare they do.

They say Charing-crosse is falue downe, since I went to Rochell: but thats no such wonder, twas old, and stood awry (as most part of the world can tel.) And tho it lack vnder-propping, [Page] yet (like great fellowes at a wrastling) when their heeles are once flying vppe, no man will saue em; downe they fall, and there let them lye, tho they were bigger then the Guard: Charing-crosse was olde, and olde thinges must shrinke aswell as new Northern cloth.

Your worship is in the right way verily: they must so, but a number of better things between Westminster bridge and tem­ple barre both of a worshipfull, and honorable erection, are falne to decay, and haue suffred putrifaction, since Charing fell, that were not of halfe so long standing as the poore wry-neckt Monument.

Whose within there? One of you call vp your mistris! tell her heeres her wryting Schoolemaster. I had not thought ma­ster Parenthesis you had bin such an early stirrer.

Sir, your vulgar and foure-peny-pen-men, that like your London Sempsters keepe open shop, and sell learning by retaile, may keepe their beds, and lie at their pleasure: But we that edi­fie in priuate, and traffick by whole sale, must be vp with the lark, because like Country Atturnies, wee are to shuffle vp many mat­ters in a for-enoone. Certes maister Honisuckle, I would sing Laus Deo, so I may but please al those that come vnder my fingers: for it is my duty and function, Perdy, to be feruent in my vocation.

Your hand: I am glad our Citty has so good, so necessary, and so laborious a member in it: we lacke painfull and expert pen­men amongst vs. Maister Parenthesis you teach many of our Mer­chants sir, do you not?

Both Wiues, Maides, and Daughters: and I thanke God, the very worst of them lye by very good mens sides: I picke out a poore liuing amongst em, and I am thankefull for it.

Trust me I am not sorry: how long haue you exercizd this quality?

Come Michaell-tide next, this thirteene yeare.

And how does my wife profit vnder you sir? hope you to do any any good vpon her.

Maister Honisuckle I am in great hope shee shall fructify: I will do my best for my part: I can do no more then another man can.

Pray sir ply her, for she is capable of any thing.

So far as my poore tallent can stretch, It shall not be hid­den from her.

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Does she hold her pen well yet?

She leanes somewhat too hard vppon herpen yet sir, but practise and animaduersion will breake her from that.

Then she grubs her pen.

Its but my paines to mend the neb agen.

And where abouts is shee now maister Parenthesis? Shee was talking of you this morning, and commending you in her bed, and told me she was past h [...]r letters.

Truely sir she tooke her letters very suddenly: and is now in her Minoms.

I would she were in her Crotchets too maister Parenthesis: ha-ha, I must talke merily sir.

Sir so long as your mirth bee voyde of all Squirrility, tis not vnfit for your calling: I trust ere few daies bee at an end to haue her fal to her ioyning: for she has her letters ad vnguem: her A. her great B. and her great C. very right D. and E. dilicate: hir double F. of a good length, but that it straddels a little to wyde: at the G. very cunning.

Her H. is full like mine: a goodly big H.

But her: double LL is wel: her O. of a reasonable Size: at her p. and q. neither Marchantes Daughter, Aldermans Wife, young countrey Gentlewoman, nor Courtiers Mistris, can match her.

And how herv.

You sir, She fetches vp you best of al: her single you she ca [...] fashion two or three waies: but her double you, is as I would wish it.

And faith who takes it faster; my wife, or mistris Tenterhook?

Oh! Your wife by ods: sheele take more in one hower, then I can fasten either vpon mistris Tenterbooke, or mistris Wafer, or Mistris Flapdragon (the Brewers wife) in three.

Do not thy cheekes burne sweete chuckaby, for wee are talking of thee.

No goodnesse I warrant: you haue few Cit­tizens speake well of their wiues behind their backs: but to their faces thei [...]e cog worse and be more suppliant, then Clyents that sue in forma paper: how does my master? troth I am a very trewant: haue you your Ruler about you maister? for look you, I go cleane awry.

A small fault: most of my schollers do so: looke you [Page] sir, do not you thinke your wife will mend: marke her dashes, & her strokes, and her breakings, and her bendings?

She knowes what I haue promist her if shee doe mende: [...]ay by my fay Iude, this is well, if you would not flie out thus, but keepe your line.

I shal in time when my hand is in: haue you a new pen for mee Maister, for by my truly, my old one is stark naught, and wil cast no inck: whether are you going lamb?

To the Custome-house: to the Change, to my VVare­house, to diuers places.

Good Cole tarry not past eleuen, for you turne my stomak then from my dinner.

I wil make more hast home, then a Stipendary Swizzer does after hees paid, fare you well Maister Parenthesis.

I am so troubled with the rheume too: Mouse whats good fort?

How often haue I tolde you, you must get a patch. I must hence.

I thinke when als done I must follow his counsell, and take a patch, I haue had one long ere this, but for disfiguring my face: yet I had noted that a masticke patch vpon some womens Tem­ples, hath bin the very rhe [...]wme of beauty.

Is he departed? Is old Nestor marcht into Troy?

Yes you mad Greeke: the Gentlemans gone.

Why then clap vp coppy-bookes: downe with pens, hang vp inckhornes, and nowe my sweete Honisuckle, see what golden­winged Bee from Hybla, flies humming, with Crura thymo plena, which he wil empty in the Hiue of your bosome.

From whom.

At the skirte of that sheete in blacke worke is wrought hys name, breake not vp the wildfoule, till anon, and then feed vpon him in priuate: theres other irons i'th fire: more sackes are com­ming to the Mill, O you sweet temptations of the sonnes of A­dam, I commende you, extol you, magnifie you: Were I a Poet by Hipocrene I sweare, (which was a certaine VVell where all the Muses watred) and by Pernassus eke I sweare, I would [...]ime you to death with praises, for that you can bee content to lye with olde men all night for their mony, and walk to your gardens with yong men i'th day time for your pleasure: Oh you delicat damnations: [Page] you do but as I wud do: were I the proprest, sweetest, plumpest, Cherry-cheekt, Corrall-lipt woman in a kingdome, I would not daunce after one mans pipe.

And why?

Especially after an old mans.

And why, pray!

Especially after an old Cittizens.

Still, and why.

Marry because the Suburbes, and those without the bars, haue more priuiledge then they within the freedome: what need one woman do ate vpon one Man? Or one man be mad like Or­lando for one woman.

Troth tis true, considering how much flesh is in euery Sham­bles.

Why should I long to eate of Bakers bread onely, when theres so much Sifting, and bolting, and grynding in euery cor­ner of the Citty; men and women are borne, and come running into the world faster then Coaches doe into Cheap-side vppon Symon and Iudes day: and are eaten vp by Death faster, then Mut­ton and porridge in a terme time. Who would pin their hearts to any Sleeue: this world is like a Mynt, we are no sooner cast into the fire, taken out agen, hamerd, stampt, and made Currant, but presently wee are changde: the new Mony (like a new Drab) is catcht at by Dutch, Spanish, Welch, French, Scotch, and Eng­lish: but the old crackt King Harry groates are shoueld vp, feele bruzing, and battring, clipping, and melting, they smoake sort.

The worlds an Arrant naughty-pack I see, and is a very scur­uy world.

Scuruy? worse then the conscience of a Broome­man, that carryes out new ware, and brings home old shoes: a naughty-packe? Why theres no Minute, no thought of time pas­ses, but some villany or other is a brewing: why, euen now, now, at holding vp of this finger, and before the turning downe of this, some are murdring, some lying with their maides, some picking of pockets, some cutting purses, some cheating, some weying out bribes. In this Citty some wiues are Cuckolding some Husbands. In yonder Village some farmers are now-now grynding the Iaw­bones of the poore: therefore sweete Scholler, sugred Mistris Ho­nisuckle, take Summer before you, and lay hold of it? why, euen now must you and I hatch an egge of iniquity.

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Troth maister I thinke thou wilt proue a very knaue.

Its the fault of many that fight vnder this band.

I shall loue a Puritans face the worse whilest I liue for that Coppy of thy countenance.

We are all wethercocks, and must follow the winde of the present: from the byas.

Change a bowle then.

I will so; and now for a good cast: theres the Knight, sir Gos [...]n Glo-worme.

Hees a Knight made out of waxe.

He tooke vp Silkes vppon his bond I confesse: nay more, hees a knight in print: but let his knight-hood be of what stamp it will, from him come I, to intreate you, and Mistris Wafer, and mistris Tenterhook, being both my schollers, and your honest pew fellowes, to meet him this afternoon at the Rhenesh-wine-house ith Stillyard. Captaine Whirlepoole will be there, young Lynstock the Alder-mans Son and Heire, there too, will you steale forth, & tast of a Dutch Bun, and a Keg of Sturgeon.

What excuse shall I coyne now?

Few excuses: You must to the pawne to buy Lawne: to Saint Martins for Lace; to the Garden: to the Glasse-house; to your Gossips: to the Powlters: else take out an old ruffe, and go to your Sempsters: excuses? Why, they are more ripe then med­lers at Christmas.

Ile come. The hower.

Two: the way-through Paules: euery wench take a piller, there clap on your Maskes: your men will bee behind you, and before your prayers be halfe don, be before you, & man you out at seuerall doores. Youle be there?

If I breath.

Farewell. So: now must I goe set the tother Wenches the selfe same Coppy. A rare Scholemaister, for all kind of handes, I. Oh: What strange curses are powred downe with one blessing? Do all tread on the heele? Haue all the art to hood-winke wise men thus? And (like those builders of Babels Tower) to speake vnknowne tongues. Of all (saue by their husbands) vnderstood: Well, if (as Iuy bout the Elme does twine)

Scaena 2.

Her answer! talke in musick: Wil she come?

Oh my sides ake in my loines, in my bones? I ha more need of a posset of sacke, and lie in my bed and sweate, than to talke in musick: no honest woman would run hurrying vp & down thus and vndoe her selfe for a man of honour, without reason? I am so lame, euery foot that I set to the ground went to my hart. I thoght I had bin at Mum-chance my bones ratled so with iaunting? had it not bin for a friend in a corner.

I had kickt vp my heeles.

Minister comfort to me, Wil she come.

All the Castles of comfort that I can put you into is this, that the iealous wittal her husband, came (like a mad Oxe) below­ing in whilst I was ther. Oh I ha lost my sweet breth with trotting.

Death to my hart? her husband? What saith he?

The freeze-lerkin Rascal out with his purse, and cal'd me plaine Bawd to my face.

Affliction to me, then thouspak'st not to her?

I spake to her, as Clients do to Lawiers without money (to no purpose) but Ile speak with him, and hamper him to, if eue [...] he fall into my clutches: Ile make the yel [...]ow-hammer her husband knowe, (for all hees an Italian) that theres a difference betweene a cogging Baud and an honest motherly gentlewoman. Now, what cold whetstonesly ouer your stomacher? wil you haue some of my Aqua? Why my Lord.

Thou hast kild me with thy words.

I see bashful louers and young bullockes are knockt down at a blow: Come, come▪ drinke this draught of Cynamon water, and plucke vp your spirits: vp with em, vp with em. Do you hear, the whiting mop has nibled.

Ha?

Oh? I thought I should fetch you: you can Ha at that: Ile make you Hem anon. As I'me a sinner I think youl find the swee­test, [Page] sweetest bedfellow of her. Oh! she lookes so sugredly, so sim­pringly, so gingerly, so amarously, so amiably. Such a redde lippe, such a VVhite foreheade, such a blacke eie, such a full cheeke, and such a goodly little nose, nowe shees in that French gowne, Scotch fals, Scotch bum, and Italian head-tire you sent her, and is such an intycing shee-witch, carrying the charmes of your Iewels about her. O [...]!

Did she receiue them? speake: Heres is golden keyes T'vnlock thy lips. Did she vouchsa [...]e to take them?

Did she vouchsafe to take them, thers a question: you shall find she did vouchsafe: The troath is my Lord, I gotte her to my house, there she put off her own cloths my Lord and put on yours my Lord, prouided her a Coach, Searcht the middle Ile in Pawles, and with three Elizabeth twelue-pences prest three knaues my L. hirde three Liueries in Long-lane, to man her: for al which so God mend me, I'me to paie this night before Sun-set.

This showre shall fil them al [...]raine in their laps, what gol­den drops thou wilt.

Alas my Lord, I do but receiue it with one hand, to pay it away with another, I'me but your Baily.

Where is she?

In the greene veluet Chamber; the poore sinneful creature pants like a pigeon vnder the hands of a Hawke, therefore vse her like a woman my Lord: vse her honestly my Lorde, for alas shees but a Nouice, and a verie greene thinge.

Farewel: Ile in vnto her.

Fie vpont, that were not for your honor: you know gen­tlewomen vse to come to Lords chambers, and not Lordes to the Gentlewomens; Ide not haue her thinke you are such a Rank-ry­der: walke you heere: Ile becken, you shal see ile fetch her with a wet finger?

Do so.

Hyst? why sweet heart, mistris Iustiniano, why prettie soule tread softlie, and come into this roome: here be rushes, you neede not feare the creaking of your corke shooes.

So, wel saide, theres his honour. I haue busines my Lord, very now [Page] the marks are set vp: Ile get me [...] score off, and giue Ayme.

A thousand mornings with the early Sunne, mine eies haue from your windowes watcht to steale brightnes from those. As oft vp­on the daies that Consecrated to deuotion are, Within the Holy Temple haue I stood disguis'd, waiting your presence: and when your hands went vp towards heauen to draw some blessing down, Mine (as if all my Nerues by yours did moue,)

I haue already leapt beyond the bounds of modesty, In piecing out my wings with borrowed feathers: but you sent a Sorceres so perfect in her trade, that did so liuely breath forth your passionate Accents, and could drawe a Louer languishing so pier­cingly, that her charmes wrought vppon me, and in pitty of your sick hart which she did Counterfet, (Oh shees a subtle Beldam!) See I cloth'd my limbes (thus Player-like in Rich Attyres, not fit­ting mine estate, and am come forth, but why I know not?

Will you Loue me?

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Gainst beauty you plot treason, if you suffer tears to do vio­lence to so faire a Cheeke. That face was nere made to looke pale with want. Dwell heere and bee the Soueraigne of my fortunes. Thus shall you go attir'd.

Till lust be tir'd. I must take leaue my Lord.

My selfe wil be your seruant, and I sweare by that which I hould [...] deare in you, your beauty (and which Ile not prophane) you shall liue heere as free from base wrong, as you are from blackenesse, so you will deigne, but let mee inioy your sight, Answere mee will you.

I will thinke vpont.

Vnlesse you shall perceiue, that al my thoughts, and al my actions bee to you deuoted, and that I very iustly earne your loue, Let me not tast it.

I wil thinke vpon it.

But when you find my merits of full weight, wil you accept their worth.

I see when Force, nor Wit can scale the hold, Wealth must. Sheel [...] [Page] nere be won, that defies go [...]de.

Now lamb! has not his Honor dealt like an honest Noble­man with you. I can tel you. you shal not find him a Templer, nor one of these cogging Cattern pear-coloured-beards, that by their good [...] wou [...]d haue no pretty woman scape them.

Bawde and diuel, and stale damnation! Wil womens tounges (like Bakers legs) neuer go straight.

This old man, vmh: this old man? doe his hoarye haires sticke in your stomacke? yet methinkes his siluer haires shoulde mooue you, they may serue to make you Bodkins: Does his age grieue you? foole? Is not old wine wholesommest, olde Pippines toothsommest, old wood burne brightest, old Linnen wash whi­test, old souldiors Sweet-hart are surest, and olde Louers are soun­dest. I hatried both.

So wil not I.

Youd haue some yong perfum'd beardles Gallants board you, that spits al his braines out ats tongues end, wud you not?

N [...], none at al, not anie.

None at al? what doe you make there then? why are you a burden to the worlds conscience, aud an eie-sore to wel giuen mē, I dare pawne m [...] gowne and al the beddes in my house, and al the gettings in Michaelmas terme next to a Tauerne token, that thou shalt neuer be an innocent.

Who are so?

Fools? why then are you so precize: your husbands down the wind and wil you like a haglers Arrow, be down the weather, Strike whilst the iron is hot. A woman when there be roses in her [Page] cheekes, Cherries on her lippes, Ciuet in her breath, Iuory in her teeth, Lyllyes in her hand, and Lickorish in her heart, why shees like a play. If new very good company, very good company, but if stale, like old Ieronimo: goe by, go by. Therefore as I said be­fore, strike. Besides: you must thinke that the commodity of beauty was not made to lye dead vpon any young womans hands: if your husband haue giuen vp his Cloake, let another take mea­sure of you in his Ierkin: for as the Cobler, in the night time walks with his Lanthorne, the Merchant, and the Lawyer with his Link, and the Courtier with his Torch: So euery lip has his Lettice to himselfe: the Lob has his Lasse, the Collier his Dowdy, the We­sterne- man his Pug, the Seruing-man his Punke, the student his Nun in white Fryers, the Puritan his Sister, and the Lord his La­dy: which worshipfull vocation may fall vppon you, if youle but strike whilest the Iron is hot.

Witch: thus I breake thy Spels: Were I kept braue, On a Kings cost, I am but a Kings slaue.

I see, that as Frenchmen loue to be bold, Flemings to be drunke, Welchmen to be cald Brittons, and Irishmen to be Co­stermongers, so, Cocknyes, (especially Shee-Cocknies) loue not Aq [...]a-vite when tis-good for them.

Saw you my vncle?

I saw him euen now going the way of all flesh (thats to say) towardes the Kitchin: heeres a letter to your worship from the party.

What party?

The Tenterbook your wanton.

From her? Fewh? pray thee stretch me no more vppon your Tenterhook: pox on her? Are there no Pottecariesith Town to send her Phisick-bils to, but me: Shees not troubled with the greene sicknesse still, Is she?

The yellow I aundis, as the Doctor tels me: troth shees as good a peat: she is falne away so, that shees nothing but bare skin and bone: for the Turtle so mournes for you.

In blacke?

In black? you shall find both black and blew if you look vnder her eyes.

Well: sing ouer her ditty when I'me in tune,

Nay, but will you send her a Box of Mithridatum and Dra­gon water, I meane some restoratiue words. Good Maister Mono­poly [Page] yo [...] know how welcome yare to the Citty, and will you ma­ster Monopoly, keepe out of the Citty; I know you cannot, would you saw how the poor gentlewoman lies.

Why how lies she?

Troth as the way lies ouer Gads-hill, very dangerous: you would pitty a womans case if you saw her: write to her some trea­tise of pacification.

Ile write to her to morrow.

To morrow; sheele not sleepe then but tumble, and if she might haue it to night, it would better please her.

Perhaps Ile doot to night, farewell.

If you doot to night, it would better please her then to mor­row.

Gods so, dost heare, I'me to sup this night at the Lyon in Sh [...]redich with certen gallants: cāst thou not draw forth some dilicate face, that I ha not seene, and bring it thither, wut thou?

All the painters in London shal not fit for colour as I can; but we shall haue some swaggering?

All as ciuill (by this sight) as Lawyers.

But I tell you, shees not so common as Lawyers, that I meane to betray to your Table: for as I'me a Sinner, shees a Knights Cozen; a Yorkshire gentlwoman, and only speakes a lit­tle broad, but of very good carriage.

Nay thats no matter, we can speake as broad as she? but wut bring her?

You shall call her Cozen, do you see: two men shall waite vpon her, and Ile come in by chance: but shall not the party bee there?

Which party?

The writer of that simple hand.

Not for as many Angels as there be letters in her Paper: Speake not of mee to her, nor our meeting if you loue mee: wut come?

Mum, Ile come.

Farewell.

Good Maister Monopoly, I hope to see you one day a man of great credite.

If I be, Ile build Chimnies with Tobacco but Ile smoake some: and be sure Bird. Ile sticke wooll vpon thy back.

Thankes sir, I know you wil, for all the kinred of the Monopolies are held to be great Fleecers.

So draw those Curtaines; and lets see the pictures vnder [...]m.

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Welcome to the Stilliard faire Ladies.

Thankes good maister Lynstocke.

Hans: some wine Hans.

Speake women.

New wine good sir Gozlin: wine in the must, good Dutch­man, for must is best for vs women.

New vine? vell: two pots of new vine.

An honest Butterbox: for if it be old, theres none of it coms into my belly.

Why Tenterhooke pray thee lets dance friskin, & be mery.

Thou art so troubled with Monopolies, they so hang at thy heart stringes.

Pox a my hart then.

I and mine too, if any Courtier of them all set vp his gal­lowes there: wench vse him as thou dost thy pantables, scorne to let him kisse thy heele, for he feedes thee with nothing but Court holy bread, good words, and cares not for thee: sir Gozlin, will you tast a Dutch whatch you callum.

Heere maister Lynstocke, halfe mine is yours. Bun, Bun, Bun, Bun.

Which roome? where are they? wo ho, ho, ho, so, ho boies.

Sfoot whose that? lock our roome.

Not till I am in: and then lock out the diuell tho he come in the shape of a puritan.

Scholemaister, welcome? well­come in troth?

Who would not bee scratcht with the bryers and brambles to haue such burs sticking on his breeches: Saue you gentlemen: O noble Knight.

More wine Hans.

Am not I (gentlemen) a Ferret of the right haire, that can make three Conies bolt at a clap into your pursenets? ha? little do their 3. husbands dreame what coppies I am setting their wiues now? wert not a rare Iest if they should come sneaking vppon vs like a horrible noise of Fidlers.

Troth Ide not care: let em come: Ide tell em, weede h [...] none of their dull Musicke.

Heere mistris Tenterhooke.

Thanks good mistris Wafer.

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Whose there? Peepers: Intelligencers: E [...]esdroppers.

Vds foot, throw a pot ats head?

Oh Lord? O Gentlemen, Knight, Ladies, that may bee, Cittizens wiues that are, shift for your selues, for a paire of your husbands heads are knocking together with Hans his, and inqui­ring for you. Omni. Keepe the doore lockt.

Oh I, do, do: and let sir Gozlin (because he has bin in the low Countries) swear go [...]z Sacrament, and driue e'm away with bro­kē Dutch.

Heres a wench has simple Sparkes in her: shees my pupile Gallants: Good-god? I see a man is not sure that his wife is in the Chamber, tho his owne fingers hung on the Padlocke: Trap-doores, false Drabs, and Spring-lockes, may cozen a Co­ [...]y of Constables. How the silly Husbands might heere ha beene guld with Flemish mony: Come: drinke vp Rhene, Thames and Meander dry, Theres Nobody.

Ah thou vngodly maister.

I did but make a false fire, to try your vallor, because you cryed let em come. By this glasse of womans wine, I [...]would not ha seene their Spirits walke heere, to bee dubd deputy of a Ward, I, they would ha Chronicled me for a Foxe in a Lambes skin: But come: Is this merry Midsomer night agreed vpon? when shal it be? where shall it be?

Why faith to morrow at night.

Weele take a Coach and ride to Ham, or so.

O fie vpont: a Coach? I cannot abide to be iolted.

Yet most of your Cittizens wiues loue iolting?

What say you to B [...]ack-wall, or Lime-house?

Euery roome there smels to much of Tar.

Lets to mine host Dogbolts at Brainford then, there you are out of eyes, out of eares▪ priuate roomes, sweet Ly [...]nen, wink­ing attendance, and what cheere you will?

Content, to Bramford?

I, I, lets go by water, for sir Gozlin I haue heard you say you loue to go by water.

But wenches, with what pullies shall wee slide with some [...]lenly excuse, out of our husbandes suspition, being gone West­ward for smelts all night.

Thats the blocke now we all stumble at: Winde vp that [...]ring well, and all the consorts in tune.

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Why then goodman scrape [...] tis wound vp, I haue it. Sirra Wafer, thy childes at nurse, if you that are the men could prouide some wise asse that could keepe his countenance.

Nay if he be an Asse he will keepe his countenance.

I, but I meane, one that could set out his tale with audaci­ty, and say that the child were sick, and neare stagger at it: That last should serue all our feete.

But where will that wise Asse be found now?

I see I'me borne still to draw Dun out ath mire for you: that wise beast will I be. Ile bee that Asse that shall grone vnder the burden of that abhominable lye. Heauen pardon me, and pray God the infant be not punisht fort. Let me see: Ile breake out in some filthy shape like a Thrasher, or a Thatcher, or a Sowg [...]lder, or something: and speak dreamingly, and swear how the child pukes, and eates nothing (as perhaps it does not) and lies at the mercy of God, (as all children and old [...]folkes doe) and then scholler Wafer, play you your part.

Feare not me, for a veny or two?

Where will you meet ith morning?

At some Tauerne neare the water-side, thats priuate.

The Grey-hound, the Greyhound in Black-fryers, an ex­cellent Randeuous.

Content the Greyhound by eight?

And then you may whip forth two first, and two next, on a sudden, and take Boate at Bridewell Dock most priuately.

Beet so: a good place?

Ile go make ready my rusticall properties: let me see schol­ler hie you home, for your child shall bee sicke within this halfe howre.

Tis the vprightest dealing man? Gods my pitty, whose yonder?

I'me bold to presse my selfe vnder the Cullors of of your company, hearing that Gentlewoman was in the roome: A word mistris?

How now, what saies he?

Zounds what she? a Bawd, bith Lord Ist not?

No indeed, sir Gozlin shees a very honest woman, and a Mid-wi [...]e.

At the Lyon in Shoredich? And would he not read it? nor write to me? Ile poyson his Supper?

But no words that I bewrayd him.

Gentlemen I must be gone. I cannot stay in faith: pardon me: Ile meete to morrow: come Nurse, cannot tarry by this ele­ment.

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Mother, you: Grannam drinke ere you goe. Bird: I am going to a womans labour, indeede sir, cannot stay.

I hold my life the blacke-beard her husband whissels for her.

A reckoning: Breake one, breake all.

Here Hans, draw not, Ile draw for all as Ime true knight.

Let him: amongst women this does stand for law, the worthiest man (tho he be foole) must draw.

Scaena Prima.

What booke is that sweet hart?

Why the booke of bonds that are due to you.

Come, what doe you with it? Why do you trouble your selfe to take care about my businesse?

Why sir, doth not that which concerns you, concerne me. You told me Monopoly had discharged his bond, I finde by the booke of accounts heere, that it is not canceld. Eare I would suffer such a cheating companion to laugh at me, Ide see him hāg­ed I▪ Good sweete hart as euer you loued me, as euer my bedde was pleasing to you, arrest the knaue, we were neuer beholding to him for a pin, but for eating vp our victuals. Good Mouse enter an action against him.

In troth loue I may do the gentlemā much discredit, and besides it may be other actions may fall very heauy vpon him.

Hang him, to see the dishonesty of the knaue.

O wise, good words: A Courtier, A gentleman.

Why may not a Gentleman be a knaue, that were strange in faith: but as I was a saying, to see the dishonesty of him, that would neuer come since he receiued the mony to visit vs you know. Maister Tenterhook he hath hung long vpon you. Mai­ster Tenterhooke as I am vertuous you shall arrest him.

Why, I know not when he will come to Towne.

Hees in town: this night he sups at the Lyon in Shoare­dich, good husband enter your action, and make hast to the Lyon presently, theres an honest fellow (Sergeant Ambush) will doe it in a trice, he neuer salutes a man in Curtesie, but he catches him as if he would arrest him. Good hart let Seriant Ambush ly in waite for him.

Well at thy entreaty I will doe it. Giue me my Cloake [Page] there, buy a linck and meet me at the Counter in Woodstreete; busse me Moll.

Why now you loue me. Ile goe to bed sweet hart.

Do not sleep till I come Moll.

No lamb, baa sheep, if a woman will be free in this intricate laborinth of a husband, let her marry a man of a melan­choly complexion, she shal not be much troubled with him. By my sooth my Husba [...]d hath a hand as dry as his braines, and a breath as stronge as six cōmon gardens. Wel my husband is gon to arrest Monopoly. I haue dealt with a Sargeant priuatly, to in­treate him, pretending that he is my Aunts Son, by this meanes shal I see my young gallant that in this has plaid his part. When they owe mony in the Citty once, they deale with their Lawyers by atturny, follow the Court though the Court do them not the grace to allow them their dyer. O the wit of a woman when she is put to the pinch.

Come Sergeant Ambush, come yeoman Clutch, yons the Tauerne▪ the Gentleman will come out presently: thou art reso­lute.

Who I, I carry fire & sword that fight for me, hear, and heare. I know most of the knaues about London, and most of the Theeues to, I thanke God▪ and good intelligence.

I wonder thou dost not turne Broker then.

Pew; I haue bin a Broker already; for I was first a Puritan, then a Ban­querout, then a Broker, then a Fencer, and then Sergeant, were not these Trades woulde make a man honest? peace the doore opes, wheele about yeoman Clutch.

And eare I come to sup in this Tauerne again. Theres no more attendance then in a Iaile, and there had bin a Punk ot two in the company then we should not haue bin rid of the drawers: now were I in an excellēt humor to go to a valting house▪ I wold break downe all their Glass-windowes, hew in peeces all their ioyne stooles, tear silke petticotes, ruffle their Periwigges, and spoyle their Painting, O the Gods what I could do: I could vn­dergo fifteene bawds by this darknes, or if I could meete one of these Varlets that were Pannier ally on their baks (Sergeants) I would make them scud so fast from me, that they should think it a shorter way betweene this and Ludgate, then a condemned Cu [...]purse thinkes it between Newgate and Tyburne.

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You are for no action to night.

No Ile to bed.

Am not I drunke now: Implentur veteris bacchi, pi [...]quis (que) Tobacco.

Faith we are all heated.

Captaine Whirlepoole when wilt come to Court and dine with me?

One of these daies Franke, but Ile get mee two Gaunlets for [...]eare I lose my fingers in the dishes, their bee excel­lent shauers I heare in the most of your vnder offices? I protest I haue often come thether, sat downe drawne, my knife, and eare I could say grace all the meate hath bin gone. I haue risen, and de­parted thence as hungry, as euer came Countrey Atturny from Westminster? Good night honest Franke, doe not swagger with the watch Franke.

So now they are gone you may take him.

Sir I arrest you?

Arrest me, at whose suite you varlets?

At maister Tenterhookes.

Why you varlets dare you arrest one of the Court.

Come will you be quiet sir?

Pray thee good yeoman call the gentlemen back againe. Theres a Gentleman hath carried a hundred pound of mine home with him to his lodging, becaus I dare not carry it ouer the fields, Ile discharge it presently.

Thats a trick sir, you would procure a reskue.

Catchpole do you see, I will haue the haire of your head and beard shaued off for this, and eare I catch you at Grayes Inne by this light law.

Come will you march.

Are you Sergeants Christians? Sirra thou lookest like a good pittyfull rascall, and thou art a tall man to it seemes, thou hast backt many a man in thy time I warrant.

I haue had many a man by the backe sir.

Welsaide in-troth, I loue your quality, las tis needfull euery man should come by his own▪ but as God mend m [...] gentlemen I haue not one crosse about me, onely you two. Might not you let a Gentlemen passe out of your handes, and say you saw him not? Is there not such a kinde of mercy in you now and then my Maisters, as I liue, if you come to my lodging to morrowe morning, Ile giue you fiue brace of Angelles? good yeoman perswade your [Page] graduat heere: I know some of you to be honest faithfull Drun­kards, respect a poore Gentleman in my case.

Come, it wil not serue your turne, Officers looke to him, vpon your perril.

Do you heare sir, you see I am in the hands of a couple of Rauens here, as you are a Gentleman lend me forty shillings, let me not liue if I do not pay you the forfeiture of the whole bond, and neuer plead Conscience.

Not a penny, not a penny: God night sir.

Well, a man ought not to sweat by anie thing in the hands of Sergeants but by siluer, and because my pocket is no lawful Iu­stice to Minister any such oath vnto me, I will patiently incounter the Counter. Which is the dearest warde in Prison Sergeant! the knights ward?

No sir, the Maisters side.

Well the knight is aboue the maister though his Table be worse furnisht: Ile go thether.

Come sir, I must vse you kindly the Gentlemans Wife that hath arrested you.

I what of her.

She saies you are her Antes sonne.

I, am?

She takes on so pittifully for your Arresting, twas much against her wil (good Gentlewomā) that this affliction lighted vp­on you.

She hath reason, if she respect her poore kindred.

You shall not go to prison.

Honest Sergeant, Conscionable Officer, did I forget my selfe euen now, a vice that sticks to me alwaies when I am drunke to abuse my best friends: where didst buy this buffe? Let me not liue but Ile giue thee a good suite of durance, Wilt thou take my bond Sergeant? Wheres a Scriuener, a Scriuener good Yeoman? you shal haue my sword and hangers to paie him.

Not so Sir: but you shall be prisoner in my house: I do not thinke but that your Cosin will visit you there i'th morning, and take order for you.

Well said; wast not a most treacherous part to arrest a man in the night▪ and when he is almost drunk, when he hath not his wits about him to remember which of his friends is in the Sub­sedy: Come did I abuse you, I recant, you are as necessary in a ci­ty as Tumblers in Norfolke, Sumners in Lancashire, or Rake-hels in an Armie▪

Buy any small Coale, buy any smal Coale.

Collier, Collier?

What saist boy.

Ware the Pillory.

O boy the pillory assures many a man that he is no cukold, for how impossible weare it a man should thrust his head through so small a Loope-ho'e if his foreheade were brauncht boy?

Collier: how came the goose to be put vpon you, ha?

Ile tell thee, the Tearme lying at Winchester in Henry the Thirds daies, and many French Women comming out of the Isle of Wight thither (as it hath alwaies beene seene) though the Isle of Wight could not of long time neither in dure Foxes nor Lawyers. yet it could brook the more dreadful Cockatrice, there were many Punkes in the Towne (as you know our Tearme is their Tearme) your Farmers that would spend but three pence on his ordinarie, woulde lauish halfe a Crowne on his Leachery: and many men (Calues as they were) would ride in a Farmers foule bootes before breakefast, the commonst sinner had more fluttering about her, then a fresh punke hath when she comes to a Towne of Garrison, or to a vniuersity. Captains, Schollers, Seruingmen, Iurors, Clarks, Townesmen, and the Blacke-guarde vsed all to one Ordinarye, and most of them were cald to a pittifull reckoning▪ for before two returnes of Michaelmas, Surgeons were full of busines, the care of most secresie grew as common as Lice in Ireland, or as scabbes in France. One of my Tribe a Collier carried in his Cart 40. maim'd souldiors to Salsbury, looking as pittifully as Dutchmen first made drunke, then carried to bee-heading. Euery one that mette him cried, ware the Goose Collier, and from that day to this, thers a re­cord to be seene at Croiden, howe that pittifull wa [...]tage which in deede was vertue in the Collier, that all that time would carry no Coales, laid this Imputation on all the posterity.

You are ful of tricks Colliar.

Boy where dwels maister Wafer?

Why heare! what wouldst? I am one of his Iuvinals?

Hath he not a child at nursse at More-clacke?

Yes, dost thou dwel there?

That I do, the Child is wonderous sicke: I was wild to ac­quaint [Page] thy maister and Mistris with it.

Ile vp and tel them presently.

So, if al should faile me, I could turne Collier. O the villany of this age, how ful of secresie and silence (contrary to the opinion of the world) haue I euer found most women. I haue sat a whol af­ternoone many times by my wife, and lookt vpon her eies, and felt if her pulses haue beat, when I haue nam'd a suspected loue, yet all this while haue not drawne from her the least scruple of confessi­on. I haue laine awake a thousand nights, thinking she wold haue reuealed somewhat in her dreames, and when she has begunne to speake any thing in her sleepe, I haue iog'd he [...], and cried I sweete heart. But when wil your loue come, or what did hee say to thee ouer the stall? Or what did he do to thee in the Garden-chamber? Or when wil he send to thee any letters, or when wilt thou send to him any mony, what an idle coxcombe iealousie wil make a man.

Well, this is my comfort that heere comes a creature of the same head-peece.

O my sweet Child, wheres the Collier?

Here forsooth.

Run into Bucklers burry for two ounces of Draggon water, so [...]e Sperma [...] and Treakle. What is it sicke of Coliar? [...] burning Feauer?

Faith mistris I do not know the infirmity of it: wil you buy any smal Coale, say you?

Prethee go in and empty them, come be not so impatient.

I, I, I, if you had groand fort as I haue done you wold haue bin more natural. Take my riding hat, and my kirtle there: Ile away presently?

You wil not go to night, I am sure.

As I liue but I wil.

Faith sweet hart I haue great busines to night, stay til to mor­row and Ile go with you.

No sir I wil not hinder your busines. I see how little you respect the fruits of your owne bodie. I shal find some bodye to beare me company.

Wel, I wil deferre my busines for once, and go with thee.

By this light but you shal not, you shal not hit me i'th teeth that I was your hindrance, wil you to Bucklers burry sir?

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Come you are a foole leaue yeur weeping.

You shal not go with me as I liue.

Puple.

Exc [...]llent maister.

Admirable Mistris, howe happie be our Englishwomen that are not troubled with Iealous husbands; why your Italians in general are so Sun-burnt with these Dog-daies, that your great La­dy there thinkes her husband loues her not if hee bee not [...]ealious: what confirmes the liberty of our women more in England, then the Italian Prouerbe, which saies if there were a bridge ouer the narrow Seas, all the women in Italy would shew their husbands a Million of light paire of heeles, and flie ouer into England.

The time of our meeting? Come?

Seauen.

The place.

In Blacke-Friers, there take VVater, keepe a loofe from the shore, on with your Masks, vp with your sails, and West-ward Hoe

So.

O the quick apprehension of women, the'ile groape out a mans meaning presently, wel, it rests now that I discouer my selfe in my true shape to these Gentlewomens husbands: for though I haue plaid the foole a little to beguile the memory of mine owne misfortune, I woulde not play the knaue, though I be taken for a Banquerout, but indeed as in other things, so in that, the worlde is much deceiued in me, for I haue yet three thousand pounds in the hands of a sufficient friend, and all my debts discharged. I haue re­ceiued here a letter from my wife▪ directed to S [...]ode, wherein shee most repenta [...]tly intreateth my return, with protestation to gyue me assured tryall of her honesty. I cannot tell what to thinke of it, but I will put it to the test, there is a great strife betweene beautie, & Chastity, and that which pleaseth many is neue [...] free from [...]em­tation: as for Iealousie, it makes many Cuckoldes, many fooles, and many banquerouts: It may haue abused me and not my wifes honesty: Ile try it: but first to my secure and do [...]ing Compani­on.

You are a sweet Beagle.

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Come, because I kept from Towne a little, let mee not liue if I did not heare the sicknes was in Towne very hot: In troth thy hair is of an excellent colour since I saw it. O those bright tres­ses like to threds of gold.

Lye, and ashes, suffer much in the city for that com­parison.

Heres an honest Gentleman wil be here by & by, was borne at Foolham: his name is Gos [...]ng Gloo-worme.

I know him, what is he?

He is a Knight: what aild your husband to be so hasty to arrest me.

Shal I speak truly? shall I speak not like a wo­man.

Why not like a woman.

Because womens tongues are like to c [...]ocks, if they go too fast they neuer goe true, t'was I that got my husband to arrest thee, I haue.

I am beholding to you.

For sooth I coulde not come to the speech of you, I thinke you may be spoken with all now.

I thanke you, I hope youl baile me Cosin?

And yet why should I speak with you, I protest I loue my husband

Tush let not any young woman loue a man in yeares too well.

Why? Mono Because heele dye be­fore he can requi [...]e it.

I haue acquainted Wafer and Hony­suckle with it, and they allow my wit for't extreamly.

O honest Sergeant

Welcome good mistris Tenterhooke.

Sergeant I must needs haue my Cosin go a little Way out of Town with me and to secure thee, here are two Diamonds, they are worth two hundred pound, keepe them til I returne him.

Well tis good securitie.

Do not come in my husbandes sight in the meane time

Welcom Gallants.

How now Monopoly Arrested?

O my little Honysuckle art come to visit a Prisoner?

Yes faith as Gentlemen visit Marchants, to fare wel, or as Poets young quaint R [...]uellers, to laugh at them. Sirrha if I were some foolish Iustice, if I woulde not beg thy wit neuer trust me.

Why I pray you?

Because it hath bin conceald al this while, but come shal we to boat, we are furnisht for attendants as Ladies are, [Page] We haue our fooles, and our Vshers.

I thanke you Madame, I shall meete your wit in the close one day.

Sirra, thou knowest my husband keeps a Kennell of hounds?

Yes.

Doth thy husband loue venery?

Venery?

I, hunting, and venery are words of one signification.

Your two husband, and hee haue made a match to go find a Hare about Busty Causy.

Theile keepe an excellent house till we come home againe.

O excellent, a Spanish dinner, a Pilcher, and a Dutch supper, butter and Oni­ons.

O thou art a mad wench.

Sergeant carry this ell of Cambrick to mistris Bird. tel her but that it is a rough tide, and that she feares the water, she should haue gone with vs.

O thou hast an excellent wit.

To Boat hay?

Sir Gozlin? I doe take it your legs are married.

Why mistris?

They looke so thin vpon it.

Euer since I measurd with your husband, I haue shrunk in the cal [...]e.

And yet you haue a sweet tooth in your head.

O well dealt for the Calues head, you may talke what you will of legs, and rising in the small, and swelling beneath the garter. But tis certain when lank thighes brought long stockings out of fashion, the Courtiers Legge, and his slender tilting staffe grew both of a bignesse. Come for Brainford.

Scaena Prima.

Good morrow mistris Luce: how did you take your rest to night? how doth your good worship like your lodging? what will you haue to breakfast?

A poxe of the Knight that was here last night, he promist to haue sent me some wilde foule; hee was drunk Ile bestewed else.

Why do not you think he will send them?

Hang them: [...]s no more in fashion for them to keepe their promises, then tis for men to pay their debtes. He will lie faster then a Dog tro [...]s: what a filthy knocking was at doore last night; some puny Inn-a-court-men, Ile hold my contributi­on.

Yes in troth were they, ciuill gentlemen without beards, [Page] b [...]t to say the truth, I did take exceptions at their knocking: took them a side & said to them: Gentlemen this is not well, that you should come in this habit, Cloakes and Rapiers, Boots and Spurs, I protest to you, those that be your Ancientes in the house would haue come to my house in their Caps and Gownes, ciuilly, and modestly. I promise you they might haue bin taken for Cittizens, but that they talke more liker fooles. Who knocks there? vp in­to your Chamber.

Who are you, some man of credit? that you come in m [...]fled thus.

Whose aboue?

Let me see your face first. O maister Honisuckle, why the old party: the old party.

Pew I will not go vp to her: no body else?

As I liue will you giue me some Sacke? wheres Opportu­nity.

What dost call her?

Her name is Christian, but mistris Luce cannot abide that name, and so she cals her Oppertunity.

Very good, good.

I and thou wilt for halfe an hower.

Heere are the Cardes? deale, God send mee Dcces and Aces with a Court Card, and I shall get by it.

That can make thee nothing.

Yes if I haue a coate Card turne vp.

I shew foure games?

By my troth I must shew all and little enough to, sixe games: play your single game, I shall double with you anone.

Theres a gentleman at doore would speake with you.

Gods so, I will not be seene by any means.

Into that closet then? What another mufler?

How dost thou mistris Birdlime?

Master Tenterhook [...] the party is aboue in the dining Chamber.

Aboue.

All alone?

Is he gone vp? who wast I pray thee?

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By this sacke I will not tel you I say that yo [...] were a contry Gentleman, or a Cittizen that hath a young wife, or an Inne of Chauncery Man, should I tell you? Pardon me; this Sacke tastes of Horse flesh, I warrant you the leg of a dead horse hangs in the But of Sacke to keepe it quicke?

I beseech thee good Mistris Birdlime tel me who it was.

O God sir we are sworne to secrecy as wel as Surgeons. Come drinke to me, and lets to our game.

Who am I?

You, pray you vnblind me, Captaine Whirlpoole, no mai­ster Lynstock: pray vnblind me, you are not sir Gozling Glo-worme, for he we [...]res no Ringes of his fingers! Maister Freeze-leather, O your are George the drawer at the Miter, pray you vnblinde mee, Captaine Puckfoist, Maister Counterpaine the Lawier, what the di­uel meane you, beshrew your heart you haue a very dry hand, are you not mine host Dog-bolt of Brainford, Mistris Birdlyme, mai­ster Honysuckle, Maister Wafer.

What the last of al your Clients.

O how dost thou good Cosin.

I you haue many Cosins.

Faith I can name many that I do not know, and suppose I did know them what then? I will suffer one to keepe me in diet, another in apparrel; another in Phisick; another to pay my house rent. I am just of the Nature of Alcumy; I wil suffer euery plod­ding foole to spend monie vpon me, marrie none but some wor­thie friend to inioy my more retir'd and vse-full faithfulnes.

Your loue, your loue.

O I, tis the curse that is laid vppon our quallitie, what wee gleane from others we lauish vpon some trothlesse welfac'd youn­ger Brother, that Loues vs onely for maintainance.

Hast a good [...]earme Luce?

A pox on the Tearme, and n [...]w I thinke o [...]t, saies a gen­tleman last night let the pox be in the Towne seauen yeare, West­minster neuer breeds Cob-webs, & yet tis as catching as the plagu, though not also general, there be a thousand bragging lackes in▪ London, that wil protest they can wrest comfort from me when (I sweare) not one of them know wheather my palme be moiste or [Page] not: In troth I loue thee: You promist me seuen Elles of Cam­brick. Wafer knocks and enters, Whose that knocks?

What, more Sacks to the Myl, Ile to my old retiremēt.

How doth your good worship, Passion of my hart, what shift shall I make. How hath your good wor. done, a long time?

Very well God [...]mercy.

Your good worsh. I thinke be riding out of towne.

Yes beleeue me, I loue to be once a weeke a horsebacke, for methinks nothing sets a man out, better than a Horse.

Tis certen, nothing sets a woman out better than a man.

What, is mist. Luce aboue?

Yes truely.

Not any company with her.

Company? Shall I say to your good worship and not lie, she hath had no company (let me see how long it was since your Wor. was heare) you w [...]t to a Butchers feast at Cuckolds-hauen the next day after Saint Lukes day. Not this fortnight, in good truth.

Alasse, good soule.

And why was it? Go to, go to, I thinke you know better than I▪ The wench asketh euery day when will M. wafer be heere: And if Knightes aske for her, shee cries out at stayre-hed, As you loue my life let em not come vp, Ile do my selfe vyolence if they enter: Haue not you promist hir somwhat?

Faith, I thinke she loues me.

Loues: Wel, wud you knew what I know, then you wud say somwhat. In good faith shees very poore, all her gowns are at pawne: she owes me fiue pound for her dyet, besides 40. sh. I lent her to redeem two halfe silke Kirtles from the Brokers, And do you thinke she needed be in debt thus, if shee thought not of Some [...]body.

Good honest Wench.

Nay in troth, shees now entring into bond for 5. poundes more, the Scriuener is but new gon vp to take ber bond.

Come, let her not enter into bond, Ile lend her 5. pound, ile pay the rest of her debts, Call downe the Scriuener?

I pray you when he comes downe, stand mufled, and Ile tell him you are her brother.

If a man haue a good honest wench, that liues wholy to his vse, let him not see hir want.

O, mist. Luce, mist. Luce, you are the most vnfortunate [Page] gentlewoman that euer breathde: your young wild brother came newly out of the Countrey, he calles me Bawd, sweares I keepe a Bawdy house, saies his sister is turned whore, and that he wil kill, & slay any man that he finds in her company.

What conuayance wil you make with mistris Birdlime.

O God let him not come vp, tis the swaggringst wild-oats.

I haue pacified him somwhat, for I told him, that you were a Scriuener come to take a band of her, now as you go [...]oorth say she might haue had so much mony if she had pleased, and say, she is an honest Gentlewoman and al wil be wel.

Inough, farewel good Luce.

Come change your voice, and muffle you.

What trick should this be, I haue neuer a brother, I [...]e hold my life some franker customer is come, that shee slides him off so smoothly.

The Gentlewoman is an honest Gentlewoman as any is in London, and should haue had thrice as much money vpon her single bond for the good report I heare of her.

No sir hir friends can furnish her with mony.

By this light I should know that voice, Wafer, od'sfoote are you the Gentlewomans Brother?

Are your turnd a Scriuener Tenterhooke?

I am spoild.

Tricks of mistris Birdlyme by this light.

Hoick Couert, hoick couert, why Gentlemen is this your hunting?

A Consort, what make you here Honysuckle?

Nay what make you two heare, O excellent mistris Bird. thou hast more trickes in thee then a Punke hath V [...]ckles, cosins, Brothers. Sons or Fathers: an infinit Company.

If I did it not to make your good worships merry, neuer [...]el [...]eue me, I wil drinke to your worship a glasse of Sack.

God saue you.

Maister Iustiniano welcome from St [...]ad.

Why Gentlemen I neuer came there.

Neuer there [...] where haue you bin then?

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Mary your daily guest I thanke you.

Ours.

I yours.

I was the pedant that learnt your wiues to write, I was the Colliar that brought you newes your childe was sicke, but the truth is, for ought I knowe, the Child is in health, and your wiues are gone to make merry at Brainford.

By my troth good wenches, they little dreame where we are now▪

You little dreame what gallants are with them.

Gallants with them! I de laugh at that.

Foure Gallants by this light, Mai▪ Monopoly is one of them.

Monopoly? I de laugh at that in faith.

Would you laugh at that! why do ye laugh at it then, they are ther by this time, I cannot stay to giue you more particular in­telligence: I haue receiued a letter from my wife heare, if you will cal me at Putney, Ile beare you company.

Od'sfoot what a Rogue is Sergeant Ambush, Ile vndo him by this light.

I met Sergeant Ambush, and wild him come to this house to you presently, so Gentlemen I leaue you [...] Bawd I haue nothing to say to you now; do not thinke to much in so dangerous a matter for in womens matters tis more dangerous to stand long delibera­ting▪ then before a battai [...]e.

This fellowes pouerty hath made him an arrant knaue.

will your worship drinke any Aquavitae?

Apox on your Aquavitae. Monopoly, that my wife vrged me to arrest gon to Brainford.

heres comes the var­let.

I am come si [...] to know your pleasure.

What hath Monopoly paid the mony yet?

No sir, but he sent for mony.

You haue not caried him to the counter, he is at your house stil.

O Lord I sir as melancholike &c.

You lie like an arrant varlet, by this candle I laugh at the iest

And yet hees ready to cry.

Hees gone with my wife to Brainford, and there bee any Law in England Ile tickle ye for this.

Do your worst, for I haue good security & I care not, be­sides it was his cosin your wines pleasure that he should goe along with her.

Hoy day, her cosin, [...]el sir, your security.

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That I wil sir.

Who am I?

What the Murrion care I who you are, hold off your Fin­gers, or Ile cut them with this Diamond.

Ile see em ifaith,

So, Ile keepe these Diamonds tell I haue my silke gowne, and six els of Cambricke.

By this light you shal not.

No, what do you think you haue Fops in hand, sue me for them.

As you respect your credit lets go.

Good Luce as you loue me let me haue them, it stands vp­on my Credit, thou shalt haue any thing, take my pursse.

I will not be crost in my humour sir.

You are a dam'd filthy punke, what an vnfortunate Rogue was I, that euer I came into this house.

Do not spurne any body in my house you were best.

Well, well.

Excellent Luce, the getting of these two Diamondes mai [...] chaunce to saue the Gentlewomens credit; thou heardst all.

O I, and by my troath pittye them, what a filthy Knaue was that betraied them.

One that put me into pittifull feare, master I [...]stiniano here hath laied lurking like a sheep-biter, and in my knowledge hath drawne these gentlewomen to this misfortune: but Ile downe to Queene-hiue, and the Watermen which were wont to carrie you to Lambeth Marsh, shall carry mee thither: It may bee I may come before them; I thinke I shal pray more, what for seare of the water, and for my good successe then I did this tweluemonth.

Scaena 2

Haue you perfum'd this Chamber?

Yes my Lord.

The banquet?

It stands ready.

Does my Lorde meane to Coniure that hee drawes this strange Characters.

He does: but we shal see neither the Spirit that rises, nor the Circle it rises in.

Twould make our haire stand vp an end if wee shoulde, come fooles come, meddle not with his matters, Lords may do any thing.

Wil it please your Lordship to [...]it, I shal receiue smal plea­sure if I see your Lordship stand.

Witch, hag, what art thou proud damnation?

A Marchants wife.

Fury who raizd thee vp, what com'st thou for!

For a banquet.

My fa [...]e is as God made it my Lord: I am no diuel vnlesse women be diuels, but men find em not so, for they daily hunte for them.

What art thou that dost cozen me thus?

A Marchants wife I say: Iustinianos wife. She, whome that long burding piece of yours, I meane that Wicked mother Bird­lyme caught for your honor. Why my Lord, has your Lordshippe forgot how ye courted me last morning.

The diuel I did.

Kist me last morning.

Succubus▪ not thee.

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Gaue me this Iewel last morning.

Not to thee Harpy.

To me vpon mine honestie, swore you would build me a lodging by the Thames side with a watergate to it: or els take mee a lodging in Cole-harbor.

I swore so.

Or keep me in a Laborinth as Harry kept Ro [...]amond wher the Minotaure my husband should not enter.

I sware so, but Gipsie not to thee?

To me vppon my honour, hard was the siege, which you laid to the Christal wals of my chastity, but I held out you know: but because I cannot bee too stony harted, I yeelded my Lord, by this token my Lord (which token lies at my heart like lead) but by this token my Lord, that this night you should commit that sinne which we al know with me.

The [...]?

Do I looke vgly, that you put thee vppon me: did I giue you my hand to horne my head, thats to say my husband, and is it com to thee: is my face a filthy [...] face, now it is yours, then when it was his: or haue I two faces vnder one hoode. I confesse I haue laid mine eyes in brine, and that may chaunge the coppy. But my Lord I know what I am.

My Lord there are three Cittizens face mee downe, that heres one maister Parenthesis a schoolemaister with your Lordship and desire he may be forth-comming to em.

I would either wee were at Braineford to see our wiue [...], or our wiues heere to see this Pageant.

So would I, I stand vpon thornes.

You may follow your Lord by the smoake, Badgers.

If fortune had fauord him, wee might haue followed you by the hornes.

Fortune fauors fooles, your Lords a wise Lord: So: how now? ha? This is that makes me fat now, ist not Rats-bane to you Gentlemen, as pap was to Nestor, but I know the inuisible sins of your wiues hang at your eye-lides, and that makes you so heauy headed.

If I do take em napping I know what Ile do.

Ile nap some of them.

That villaine Monopoly, and that sir Gozlin treads em all.

Wud I might come to that [...]reading.

Ha ha, sownd I: come Moll: the booke of the siedge of Oftend, writ by one that dropt in the action, will neuer sell so well, as a report of the siedge between this Gr [...]e, this wicked elder and [Page] [...]hy selfe, an impression of you two, wold away in a May-morning: was it e [...]er heard that such tyrings, were brought away from a Lord by any wench but thee Moll, without paying, vnlesse the wench connycatcht him? go thy thy waies: if all the great Turks Concubins were but like thee, the ten-penny-infidell should ne­uer neede keep so many geldings to ney ouerem: come shal this Westerne voyage hold my harts?

Yes, yes.

Yes, yes: Sfoot you speake as if you had no harts, & look as if you were going westward indeede: to see how plaine dea­ling women can pull downe men: Moll youle helpe vs to catch Smelts too?

If you be pleasd.

Neuer better since I wore a Smock.

I feare our oares haue giuen vs the bag.

Good, Ide laught at that.

If they haue, would wheres might giue them the Bottle: come march whilst the women double their files: Married men fee, theres comfort: the Moones vp: fore Don Pha [...]us, I doubt we shall haue a Frost this night, her hornes are so sharp: doe you not feele it bite.

I do, Ime sure.

But weele sit vppon one anothers skir [...]ith Boate, and lye close in straw, like the hoary Courtier. Set on to Brainford now: where if you meete fraile wi [...]es, Nere sweare gainst hornes, invaine dame Nature striues.

Scaena Prima.

Why Chamberlin? will not these Fidlers be drawn forth? are they not in tune yet? Or are the Rogues a fraid ath Statute, and dare not trauell so far without a passe-port?

What Chamberlin?

Wheres mine host? what Chamberlin.

Anon sir, heere sir, at hand sir.

Wheres this noise? what a lowsie Townes this? Has Brainford no musick int.

They are but rozining sir, and theile scrape themselues [Page] into your company presently.

Plague a their Cats guts, and their scraping: dost not see women here, and can wethinkst thou be without a noise then?

The troth is sir, one of the poore instruments caught a sore mischance last night: his most base bridge fell downe, and belike they are making a gathering for the reparations of that.

When they come, lets haue em with apox.

Well sir, you shall sir.

Stay Chamberlin: wheres our knight sir Gozlin? wheres sir Gozlin.

Troth sir, my master, and sir Gozlin are guzling: they are dabling together fathom deepe: the Knight hath drunke so much Helth to the Gentleman yonder, on his knees, that hee has almost lost the vse of his legs.

O for loue, let none of em enter our roome, fie.

I wud not haue em cast vp their accounts here, for more then they meane to be drunke this tweluemonth.

Good Chamberlin keepe them and their Helthes out of our company. I warrant you, their Helthes shall not hu [...]t you.

I, well said: they're none of our giuing: let em keep their owne quarter: Nay I told you the man would soake him if hee were ten Knights: if he were a Knight of Gold theyd fetch him ouer.

Out vpon him?

Theres a Liefetennant and a Captaine amongst em too.

Nay, then looke to haue some body l [...]e on the earth fort: Its ordinary for your Liefe tennant to be drunke with your Cap­taine, and your Capten to cast with your Knight.

Did you neuer hear how sir Fabian Scarerow (euen such an­other) tooke me vp one night before my husband being in wine.

No indeede, how was it?

But I thinke I tooke him downe with a witnesse,

How? Good Tenterhooke.

Nay Ile haue all your ear [...]s take part of it.

Come, on then.

Hevsd to freequent me and my Husband diuerse times▪ And at last comes he out one morning to my husband, and sayes, maister Tenterhooke saies he, I must trouble you to lend mee200. pound about a commodity which I am to deale in, and what was that comm [...]dity but his knighthood.

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So.

Why you shall Maister Scarcrow saies my good man: So within a little while after, Maister Fabian was created Knight.

Created a Knight! thats no good heraldry: you must say dubd.

And why not Created pray.

I wel done, put him downe ats owne weapon.

Not Created, why al things haue their being by creation.

Yes by my faith ist.

But to returne to my tale.

I mary: marke now.

When he had climb'd vp this costly ladder of preferment, he disburses the mony backe agen very honorably: comes home, and was by my husbande invited to supper: There supt with vs besides, another Gentleman incident to the Court, one that hadde bespoke me of my husband to help me into the banqueting house and see the reuelling: a young Gentleman, and that wagge (our schoolemaister) marster Parenthesis, for I remember he said grace, methinks I see him yet, how he turn'd vp the white a'th eie, when he came to the last Gaspe, and that he was almost past Grace.

Nay he can doot.

All supper time, my New-minted knight, made Wine the waggon to his meat, for it ran downe his throat so fast, that before my Chamber-maid had taken halfe vp, he was not scarce able to stand.

A generall fault at Cittizens tables.

And I thinking to play vpon him, askt him, Sir Fabian Scar­crow quoth I, what pretty Gentlewoman wil you raise vp now to stal her your Lady? but he like a foul-mouthd man, swore zounds Ile stal neuer a punke in England. A Lady, theres two many alrea­dy: O fie Sir Fabian (quoth I) will you cal her that shall bee your wife such an odious name! and then he sets out a throat & swore agen (like a stinking breathd knight as he was) that women were like horsse.

O filthy knaue.

Theyde break ouer any hedge to change their pasture, th [...] it were worse: Fie man fie, (saies the Gentlewoman.)

Very good.

And he bristling vp his beard to raile at her too, I cut hym [Page] ouer the thumbs thus: why sir Fabian Searcrow did I incese my hus­band to lend you so much mony vpon your bare worde, and doe you backbite my friends, and me so our faces! I thought you had had more perseuerance; if you bore a Knightly and a degenerous mind you would scorne it: you had wont to be more deformable amongst women: Fie, that youle be so humorsome: here was No­bodie so egregious towardes you sir Fabian! and thus in good sad­nes, I gaue him the best wordes I coulde picke out to make him a­shamd of his doings.

And how tooke he this Correction.

Verie heauily: for he slept presentlie vpont: & in the mor­ning was the sorriest Knight, and I warrant is so to this daie, that liues by bread in England.

To fee what wine and women can do, the one makes a man not to haue a word to throw at a Dogge, the other makes a man to eat his owne words tho they were neuer so filthy.

I see these Fiddlers cannot build vp their bridge, that some Musicke may come ouer vs.

No faith they are drunke too, what shals do therefore.

Sit vp at Cards al night?

Thats Serning mans fashion.

Drinke burnt wine and Egs then?

Thats an exercise for your sub-burbe wenches.

No no, lets set vpon our posset and so march to bed, for I begin to wax light with hauing my Natural sleep p [...]ld [...]out a mine­eies.

Agreed: beet so, the sacke posset and to bed.

What Chamberlain? I must take a pipe of Tobacco.

Not here, not here, not here.

Ile rather loue a man that takes a purse, then him that takes Tobacco.

By my little finger Ile breake al your pipes, and burne the Case, and the box too, and you drawe out your stinking smoakea­fore me.

Prethee good mist [...] [...], Ile ha done in a trice.

Do you long to ha [...]e me swoune?

Ile vse but halfe a pipe introth.

Do you long to see me lie at your feet!

Smell toot: [...]i [...] perfum'd.

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Oh God? Oh God? you anger me: you stir my bloud: you moue me: you make me spoile a good face with frowning at you: this was euer your fashion, so to smoake my Husband when you come home, that I could not abide him in mine eye: hee was a moate in it me thought a month after: pray spawle in another roome: fie, fie, fie.

Well, well, come, weele for once feed hir humor.

Get two roomes off at least if you loue vs.

Three, three, mai [...]er Lynstocke three.

Sfoote weele dance to Norwich, and take it there, if youle stay till we returne agen? Heeres a stir, youle ill abide a fiery face, that cannot endure a smoaky nose.

Come lets satisfie our appetite.

And that wil be hard for vs, but weele do our best.

So: are they departed? What string may wee three thinke that these three gallants harp vppon, by bringing vs to this sinfull towne of Brainford? ha?

I know what string they would harpe vppon, if they could put vs into the righ tune.

I know what one of em buz'd in mine eare, till like a Theese in a Candle, he made mine eares burne, but I swore to say nothing.

I know as verily they hope, and brag one to another, that this night theile row westward in our husbands whirries, as wee hope to bee rowd to London to morrowe morning in a paire of oares. But wenches lets bee wise, and make Rookes of them that I warrant are now setting pursenets to conycatch vs.

Content.

They shall know that Cit [...]izens wi [...]es haue wit enough to out strip twenty such guls; tho we are me [...]y, lets not be mad: be as wanton as new married wiues, as fantasticke and light headed to the eye, as fether-makers, but as pure about the heart, as if we dwelt amongst em in Black Fryers.

Weele eate and drinke with em.

Oh yes: eate with em as hungetly as souldiers: drinke▪ as if we were Froes: talke as freely as Iestors, but doe as little as misers. Who (like dry Nurses) haue great breastes but giue no milke. It were better we should laugh at their popin- [...]ayes, then [Page] liue in feare of their prating tongues: tho we lye all night out of the Citty, they shall not find country wenches of vs: but since we ha brought em thus far into a fooles Paradice, leaue em int: the Iest shal be a stock to maintain vs and our pewfellowes in laugh­ing at christnings, cryings out, and vpsittings this 12. month: how say you wenches, haue I set the Sadle on the right horse.

O twill be excellent.

But how shall we shift em off?

Not as ill debters do their Creditors (with good wordes) but as Lawyers do their Clyents when their ouerthrown, by some new knauish tricke: and thus it shall bee: one of vs must dislem­ble to be suddenly very sick.

Ile be she.

Nay, tho we can all dissemble well, yet Ile be she: for men are so iealous, or rather enuious of one anothers happinesse (Espe­cially in this out of towne g [...]ssipings) that he who shall misse his hen, if hee be a right Cocke [...]ndeede, will watch the other from treading.

Thats certaine, I know that by my selfe.

And like Esops Dog, vnlesse himselfe might eate hay, wil lie in the manger and starue: but heele hinder the horse from eating any: besides it will be as good as a Welch hooke for you to keepe out the other at the Staues end: for you may boldly stand vppon this point, that vnle [...]se euery mans heeles may bee tript vp, you scor [...]e to play at football.

Thats certaine [...] peace I heare them spitting after their To­bacco.

A chaire, a chaire, one of you keepe as great a coyle and calling, and as if you ran for a midwife: tho'ther holde [...]y head: whylst I cut my lace.

Passion of me? maister Monopoly, maister Linstock [...] and you be men, help to daw mistris Tenterhooke: O quickly, quickly, shees sicke and taken with an Agony.

Sick? How? how now? whats the matter?

Sweete Clare call vp thy spirits.

O maister Monop [...]ly, my spirits will not comet a my cal­ling, I am terrible and Ill: Sure, sure, I'me struck with some wic­ked planet, for it [...] my very hart: Oh I feele my selfe worse and worse.

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Some burnt Sack for her good wenche [...]: or possit drink, poxe a this Rogue Chamberlin, one of you call him: how her pulses beate: a draught of Cynamon water now for her, were better than two Tankerdes out of the Thames: how now? Ha.

Ill, ill, ill, ill, ill.

I'me accurst to spend mony in this Towne of iniquity: theres no good thing euer comes out of it: and it stands vppon such musty ground, by reason of the Riuer, that I cannot see how a tender woman can do well int, Sfoot? Sick now? cast down now tis come to the push.

My mind misgiues me that als not sound at London.

Poxe on em that be not sounde, what need that touch you?

I feare youle neuer carry me thither.

Puh, puh, say not so.

Pray let my cloathes be vtterly vndone, and then lay mee in my bed.

Walke vp and downe a little.

O maister Lynstock, tis no walking will serue my turne: haue me to bed good sweete Mistris Honisuckle, I doubt that olde Hag Gillian of Braineford has bewitcht me.

Looke to her good wenches.

I so we will, and to you too: this was excellent.

This is strange.

Villanous spiteful luck: no matter, th, other two hold [...]yas.

Peace, marke how hees nipt: nothing greeues mee so much as that poore Pyramus here must haue a wall this night be­tweene him and his Thisbe.

No remedy trusty Troylus: and it greeues me as much, that youle want your false Cressida to night, for heeres no sir Pan­darus to vsher you into your Chamber.

Ile somon a parlee to one of the Wenches, and see how all goes.

No whispring with the common enimy by this Iron: he sees the Diuell that sees how all goes amongst the wo­men to night: Nay Sfoot? If I stand piping till you dance, damne me.

Why youle let me call to em but at the key-hole.

Puh, good maister Lynstocke, Ile not stand by whilst you giue Fire at your Key-holes? Ile hold no Trencher till an other [...]eedes: no stirrup till another gets vp: be no doore-keeper. I [Page] ha not beene so often at Court, but I know what the back-side of the Hangings are made of Ile trust none vnder a peece of Tapistry, viz. a Couerlet.

What will you say if the Wenches do this to gull vs?

No matter, Ile not be doubly guld, by them and by you: goe, will you take the lease of the next chamber and doe as I do.

And whats that?

Any villanie in your company, but nothing out on't will you sit vp, or lie by'te.

Nay lie sure, for lying is most in fashion.

Troth then; Ile haue you before mee.

It shall be youres.

Yours ifaith: Ile play Ianus with two faces & looke a squinte both wayes for one night.

Well Sir, you shall be our dore-keeper.

Come, come, come, follow mee, follow mee. I wa [...] ­rant you ha lost more by not falling into a sound last night, than euer you got at one Iob since it pleas'd to make you a noise: I can tell you, gold is no money with [...]hem: follow me and fum, as you goe; you shall put something into their eares, whilst I prouide to put something into their bellies. Followe close and sum—

What kin art thou to Long- Meg of Westminster? th'art like her.

Some-what a like Sir at a blush, nothing a kin Sir, sa­uing in height of minde, and that she was a goodly Woman.

Mary Anbree, do not you know me? had not I a [...]ight of this sweete Phisnomy at Renish-wine house! ha last day ith Stilliard ha! whither art bound Galley-foist? whether art [Page] bound? whence com'st thou female yeoman—a the gard?

From London Sir.

Dost come to keepe the dore Ascapart.

My reparations hether is to speake with the Gentle­woman here that drunke with your worshippe at the Dutch­house of meeting.

Drunke with mee, you lie, not drunke with me: but 'faith what wou'dst with the Women? they are a bed: art not a mid-wife? one of hem told mee thou wert a night woman.

I ha brought some women a bed, in my time Sir.

I and some yong-men too, ha'st not Pandora? howe now! where's this noyse.

Ile commit your worship.

To the Stockes? art a Iustice? shalt not commit mee: dance first 'faith, why scrapers, appeare vnder the wenches Comicall Window, byth' Lord! Vds Daggers? cannot sinne be set a shore once in a raigne vpō your Country quarters, but it must haue fidling? what set of Villaines are you, you perpe­tuall Ragamuffins?

The Towne Consort Sir.

Consort with a pox? cannot the shaking of the sheets be danc'd without your Town piping? nay then let al hel rore

I beseech you Sir, put vp yours, and wee'le put vp ours:

Play you louzie Hungarians: see, looke the Mai­pole is set vp, weele dance about it: keepe this circle Ma­querelle.

I am no Mackrell, and ile keepe no Circles.

Play, life of Pharao play, the Bawde shall teach mee a Scotch Iigge.

Bawd! I defie thee and thy Iigges whats [...]euer thou art: were I in place where, Ide make thee proue thy wordes.

I wud proue 'hem Mother best be trust: why doe not I know you Granam? and that Suger-loafe? ha! doe I not Magar [...].

I am none of your Megges, do not nick-name me so: I will not be nickt.

You will not: you will not: how many of my name (of the Glowormes) haue paid for your furr'd Gownes, thou [Page] Womans broker.

No Sir, I scorne to bee beholding to any Glo-worme that liues vppon Earth for my furre: I can keepe my selfe warme without Glowormes.

Canst sing Wood-pecker? come sing and wake 'hem.

Wud you should well know it, I am no singing Wo­man.

Howle then! sfoote sing, or howle, or Ile break your Estrich Egshell there.

My Egge hurts not you, what doe you meane to fl [...] ­rish so.

Sing Madge, Madge, sing Owlet.

How can I sing with such a sowre face—I am haunted with a caugh and cannot sing.

One of your Instruments Mowntibankes, come, here clutch: clutch.

Alas Sir, I'me an olde woman, and knowe not how to clutch an instrument.

Looke marke too and fro as I [...] it: make a noyse: its no matter: any hunts vp, to waken vice.

I shall neuer rub it in tune.

Will you scrape?

So you will let me go into the parties, I will sawe, & make a noyse.

Doe then: shatt into the parties, and part 'hem: shat my leane Lana.

If I must needes play the Foole in my olde dayes, let mee haue the biggest instrument, because I can hold that best: I shall cough like a broken winded horse, if I gape once to sing once.

No matter cough out thy Lungs.

No Sir, tho Ime olde, and worme-eaten Ime not so rotten—

Will your worship be ridde of me now.

Faine, as rich-mens heyres would bee of their gowtye dads: thats the hot-house, where your parties are sweating: amble: goe, tell the Hee parties I haue sent 'hem a Maste [...] their shippe.

Yes forsooth Ile do your errand.

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Halfe musty still by thundring Ioue: with what wedge of villanie might I cleaue out an howre or two? Fidlers, come: strike vp. march before mee, the Chamberlaine shall put a Crowne for you into his bill of Items: you shall sing bawdie songs vnder euery window ith Towne: vp will the Clownes start, downe come the Wenches, wee'le set the Men a fighting the Women a scolding, the Dogs a barking, you shall go on fidling, and I follow dancing Lantara: curry your instruments: play and away.

Serieant Ambush, as th'art an honest fellow, scowte in some back roome, till the watch-word be giuen for fallying forth.

Duns the Mouse.

—A little low-woman saist thou, —in a Veluet-cappe-and one of 'him in a Beauer? brother Honny-suckle, and bro­ther Wafer, hearke—they are they.

But art sure theyr husbands are a bed with 'hem?

I thinke so Sir, I know not, I left 'hem together in one roome: and what diuision fell amongst 'hem, the fates can descouer not I.

Leaue vs good Chamberlaine, wee are some of their friends: leaue vs good Chamberlaine: be merry a little: leaue vs honest Chamberlaine —

Wee are abuzd, wee are bought and sold in Brainford Market; neuer did the sicknesse of one belyed nurse-child, sticke so cold to the heartes of three Fathers: never were three innocent Cittizens so horribly, so abhominably wrung vnder the withers.

What shall wee do? how shall we helpe our selues?

How shall we pull this thorne out off our foote be­fore it rancle?

Yes, yes, yes, well enough; one of vs stay here to watch doe you see: to watch: haue an eye, haue an eare. I and my brother Wafer, and Maist. Iustiniano, will set the towne in an insurrection, bring hither the Constable, and his Bill­ [...], breake open vpon hem, take 'hem in their wickednesse, [Page] and put 'hem to their [...].

Agreed.

Ha, ha, purgation.

Wee'le haue 'hem before some Countrey Iustice of Coram (for we scome to be bound to the Peace) and this Iu­stice shall draw his Sword in our defence, if we finde 'hem to be Malefactors wee'le ticle 'hem.

Agreed: doe not say, but [...] come.

Are you mad? do you know what you doe? whether will you runne?

To set the Towne an an vprore.

An vprore [...] will you make the Towne [...]men think, that Londoners neuer come hither but vpon Saint [...] night? Say you should rattle vp the Constable: thrash all the Coun­trey together, hedge in the house with Flayles, Pike-staues, and Pitch-forkes, take your wiues napping, these Westerne Smelts nibling, and that like so many [...]; euery Smith should discouer his Venus dancing with Mars, [...] this plaster cure the head-ake.

I, it wood.

Nay it shud.

Nego, Nego, no no, it shall bee prou'd vnto you, your heads would ake worse: when women are proclaymed to bee light, they striue to be more [...]ight, for who dare disproue a Proclamation.

I but when light Wiues make heauy hus­bands, let these husbands play mad Hamlet; and crie reuenge, come, and [...] do so.

Pray stay, be not so heady at my intreaty.

My wife [...] you, and I intreat you to haue mercy on your [...], though you haue none ouer the women. Ile tell you a tale: this last Christmas a Cittizen and his wife (as it might be one of you) were inuited to the Reuells one night at one of the [...] a Court: the husband (hauing businesse) trusts his wife thither to take vp a roome for him before: shee did so: but before shee went; doubts a rising, what blockes her husband would stumble at, to hinder his entrance, It was consulted vpon, by what token, by what trick,, by what ban­ner, or brooch he should bee knowne to bee hee when hee wrapt at the Gate:

Very good.

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The croud he was told would be greater, their clamors greater, and able to droune the throats of a shoule of fish wiues: he himselfe therefore [...] an excellent watch-word, and the sigue at which he would hang out himselfe, should be a horne: he would wind his horne, and that should giue 'hem warning that he was come.

So.

The torchmen and [...] had an Item to receaiue him: he comes, ringes out his horne with an alla­rum, enters with a showte, all the house rises (thinking some sowgelder prest in) his wife blusht, the company Iested, the sim­ple man like a begger going to the stocks laught, as not being sencible of his own disgrace, & hereupon the punyes set downe this decre that no man shall hereafter come to laugh at their reuells (if his wife be entred before him) vnles he cary his horne about him

Ile not trouble them.

So if you trompet a broad and preach at the market crosse, you wiues shame, tis your owne shame.

What shall we doe then!

Take my councell, Ile aske no fee sort: bar out host: banish mine hostes, beate a way the Chamberlin, let the ost [...]ers walke, enter you the ch [...]mbers peaceably, locke the dores gin­gerly, looke vpon your wiues wofully, but vpon the euill-doers, most wickedly.

What shall wee reap by this.

An excellent haruest, this, you shall heare the poore mouse-trapt-guilty-gentlemen call for mercy; your wiues you shall see kneelig at your feet, and weeping, and wringing, and blushing, and cursing Brainford and crying pardona may pardo­na may, pardona may, whilst you haue the choise to stand either as Iudges to condemne 'hem, beadles to torment 'hem, or con­fessors to absolued 'hem: And what a glory will it be for you 3. to kisse your wiues like forgetfull husbands, to exhort and for­giue the young men like pittifull fathers; then to call for [...]ares, then to cry hay for London, then to make a Supper, then to drowne all in Sacke and Suger, then to goe to bed, and then to rise and open shop, where you may aske any man what he lacks with your cap off, and none shall perceiue whether the brims wring you.

Weele raise no townes.

No, no, lets knock first.

I thats best Ile somon a parle.—

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Whose there? haue you stock-fish in hand that you beat so hard: who are you?

thats my wife; let Instiniano speak for al they know our Tongues.

What a murren aile these colts, to keepe such a kicking? Monopoly.

Yes.

Is M. Lynstock vp too, and the Captaine.

Both are in the field: will you open your dore?

O you are proper Gamsters to bring false dice with you fro London to cheat your selues. Ist possible that 3 shallowe women should gul. 3. such Gallants.

What meanes this.

Haue we defied you vpon the wals all night to open our gates to you ith morning. Our honest husba [...]ds they (silly mē) lie praying in their beds now, that the water vnder vs may not be rough, the tilt that couers vs may not be rent, & the strawe about our feete may keepe our pritty legs warme. I warrant they walk vpō Queen-hiue (as Leander did for Hero) to watch for our landing, and should we wrong such kind hearts? wud we might euer be trobled with the tooth-ach the.

This thing that makes fooles of vs thus, is my wife.

I, I knock your bellies full, we hugg one another a bed and lie laughing till we tickle againe to remember how wee sent you a Bat-fowling.

An Almond Pa [...]at: that's my Mabs voice, I know by the sound.

Sfoote you ha spoild halfe already, & youle spoile al, if you dam not vp your [...] villanie! nothing but villany, Ime afraid they haue smelt your breaths at the key hole, & now they set you to catch Floūders, whilst in the mean [...] time, the con [...]piscentious Ma [...]efactors make 'em ready & take Lōdō napping.

Ile not be guld so

Shew your selues to be men, and breake open dores.

Breake open doores, & shew your selues to be beasts: if you break opē dores, your wiues may lay flat burglary to your charge.

Lay a pudding; burglarie.

Will you then turne Coridons because you are among [...]lowns? shal it be said you haue no braines being in Brainford.

Parenthesis we will enter and set vpon 'em.

Well do so: but enter not so that all the countrey may crie shame of your doings: knocke 'hem downe, burst opē Erebus, and bring an old house ouer your heads if you do.

No matter, weele beare it of with head & shoulders. [...]

You cānot enter indeed la, gods my pittikin our 3 hus­bands [Page] somon a parlee; let that long old woman either creepe vnder the bed or else stand vpright behind the painted cloth.

Doe you heare: you Mabel:

Lets neuer hide our heads now, for we are descouered.

But all this while, my Hony-suckle appeares not.

Why then two of them haue pitcht their tents there & yours lies in Ambuscado with your enemy there.

Stand vpon your gard there, whilst I batter here.

Who's there?

Hold, Ile speake in a small voice like one of the women; here's a friend: are you vp? rize, rize; stir, stirre.

Vds foote, what Weasell are you? are you going to catch Quailes, that you bring your pipes with you. Ile see what troubled Ghost it is that cannot sleepe.

O Maist. Monopoly God saue you.

Amen, for the last time I sawe you, the Diuell was at mine elbow in Buffe, what! 3 mery men, & 3. mery men, & 3. me [...]ry men be we too,

How do's my wife M. Monop.

Who? my ouerthwart neighbour: passing well: this is kindly don: Sir Gozlin is not far from you: wee'le ioyne our Armi [...]s presently, here be rare fields to walk in-Captaine rize, Captain Lynstock bestir your stumps, for the Philestins are vp­on vs

This Monopoly is an arrant knaue, a cog­ging knaue, for all hees a Courtier, if Monopoly bee sufferd to ride vp and downe with other mens wi [...]es, hee'le vn-do both Citty and Countrey.

Mol, maske thy selfe, they shall not know thee.

How now sweet hearts, what make you he [...].

Not that which you make here.

Mary you make Bulls of your husbands.

Buzzards do we not? out you yellow infirmities: do al flowers shew in your eyes like Columbines.

Wife what saies the Collier? is not thy Soule blacker then his coales? how does the child? howe does my flesh and bloud wife?

Your flesh and bloud is very well recoue­red now mouse-

I know tis: the Collier has a sack-full of newes to empty.

Clare Where be your two ringes with Diamonds?

At hand sir, here with a wet finger.

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I dreamt you had lost hem—what a prophane varlet is this shoulder clapper, to lye thus vpon my wife & herringes.

Saue you gentlemen;

And you and our wiues from you.

Your wiues haue [...]aude themselues for one.

Maist. Monopoly, tho I meet you in h [...]e Germany, I hope you can vnderstand broken English, haue you dischargd your debt.

yes Sir: with a duble charge, your Harpy that set his ten commandemets vpon my backe had 2. Dyamondes to saue him harmles.

of you Sir.

Me Sir, do you think there be no dyamond courtiers.

Sargent Ambush issue forth, Monopoly Ile cut off your conuoy maist, Sargant Amb [...]sh, I charge you as you hope to receaue comfort f [...]om the smell of Mace speake not like a Sar­gent, but deale honestly, of whome had you the dyamondes.

Of your wife Sir if Ime an honest man.

Of me you peuter-buttoned rascall.

Siria you that liue by nothing but the carion of poult [...]y.

Schoole Ma [...]ster harke heither.

Where are my lems and pretious stones that were my bale.

Forth comming Sir tho your mony is not, your credi­ter has hem.

Excellent; peace, why M. Tenterhooke, if the dyamondes be of the reported value, Ile paie your mony receaue em, keepe 'hem till Maist. Monopoly be fatter ith purse: for Maist. Mono­poly I know you wil not be long empty Mast. Monopoly.

Let him haue 'hem good Ten [...]erhooke, where are they.

At home, I lockt hem vp.—

No indeed for-sooth, I lockt 'hem vp, & thos are they your wife has, and those are they your husband (like a bad liuer as he is) would haue giuen to a [...] of mine, (that lies in my house to take phisick) to haue committed sleshly treason with her.

I at your house—you old—

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You perdy, and that honest batchiler, neuer call me old for the matter.

Motherly woman hees my husband and no Batchelers buttons are at his doublett

las, I speake Innocently and that leane gentleman set in his staffe there: But as Ime a sinner, both I and the yong woman had an eye to the mayne chance, & tho they brought more a bout 'hem than capten Candishis voiage came to, they should not, nor could not (vnles I had bin a naughty woman) haue entred the straytes.

Haue we smelt you out foxes.

Doe you come after vs with hue and cry when you are the theeues your Selues.

Murder I see cannot be hid, but if this old Sybill of yours speake oracles, for my part, Ile be like an Almanacke that threa­tens nothing but foulewether.

That bawd has bin dambd. 500 times, and is her word to be taken.

To be dambd once is enough, for any one of her coate.

Why Sir. what is my coat that you fitt thus vpon my Scirts.

Thy Coat is an ancient Coat, one of the seauen deadly sinnes, put thy coat first to making; but do you heare, you mo­ther of Iniquity, you that can loose and find your eares when you list go, saile with the rest of your baudie-traffikers to the place of sixe-penny Sinfulnesse the subvrbes.

I scorne the Sinfulnesse of any subvrbes in Christendom tis wel knowne I haue vp-rizers and downe-lyers within the Citty, night by night, like a prophane fellow as thou art.

Right, I know thou hast, Ile tell you Gentle-folkes, theres more resort to this Fortune-teller, then of forlorne wiues married to old husbands, and of Greene-sicknesse Wenches that can get no husbands to the house of a wise-Woman. Shee has tricks to keepe a vaulting house vnder the Lawes nose.

Thou dost the Lawes nose wrong to bely mee so.

For either a cunning woman has a Chāber in her house or a Phisition, or a picture maker, or an Attorney, because all these are good Clokes for the raine. And then if the female party that's cliented aboue-Staires, be yong, Shees a Squires daughter of lowe degree, that lies there for phisicke, or comes [Page] vp tobe placed with a Countesse: if of middle age, shees a Widow, and has sutes at the terme or so.

O fie vpon her, burne the witch out of our company.

Lets hem her out off Brainford, if shee get not the fa­ster to London.

O no, for Gods sake, rather hem her out off London and let her keepe in Brainford still.

No you cannot hem me out of London; had I known this your rings should ha bin poxt er—I wud ha toucht 'hem: I will take a paire of Oares, and leaue you.

Let that ruine of intemperance bee rakt vp in dust and ashes, and now tell me, if you had raysed the Towne, had not the tiles tumbled vpon your heads: for you see your Wiues are chast, these Gentlemen ciuill, all is but a merriment, all but a May-game; she has her Diamonds, you shall haue your mo­ney the child is recouered, the false Collier discouered, they came to Brainford to be merry, you were caught in Bird-lime; and therefore set the Hares-head against the Goose-giblets, put all instruments in tune, and euery husband play musicke vpon the lips of his Wife whilst I begin first.

Come wenches bee't so,

Mist. Iustiniano ist you were asham'd all this while of shewing your face, is she your wife Schoolemaister.

Looke you, your Schoole-maister has bin in France, and lost his hayre, no more Parenthesis now, but Iustiniano, I will now play the Merchant with you. Looke not strange at her, nor at mee, the story of vs both, shall bee as good, as an olde wiues tale, to cut off our way to London.

How now?

Alas Sir, the Knight yonder Sir Gozlin has almost his throat cut by Powlterers and Townes-men and rascalls, & all the Noise that went with him poore fellowes haue their Fidle-cases puld ouer their eares.

Is Sir Gozlin hurt?

Not much hurt Sir, but he bleedes like a Pig, for his crowne's crackt.

Then has he beene twise cut ith head since we landed, [Page] once with a Pottle-po [...]and now with old iron.

Gentlemen hasten to his rescue some, whilst others call for Oares.

Away then to London.