Scaen. 1.

OBonny Iove, and the rest of the b [...]on gods that dwel in the Tipling-house of Olympus! There be mettals & hard things in the world, but nothing so hard as to be bound Prentise in Bedlam, and have a Fool to ones Master: my very Livery is faced with his VVorships foolery. Our condition is miser­able; for if our Masters but dine at the Ordi­nary of mischief, the poore Serving-man is sure to be fed with the scraps of misfortune: We must share of our Masters misery, we are but Tenants, they will not let us be Free­holders to the petty Lordships of our own corpusculous Fortune; damnable Fortune! how fatally hast thou sold the tenure of us, to him that will pay us our wages! 'Tis very true that I tell you: And now see the per­verse effects of all. O how I could cuff Apol­lo! I have a quarrel to Apollo, that wryleg'd, ridling, fidling god, that snorts out Oracles from his guilded brundlet. They say, this same Gaffer Phoebus is a good Mountebanck, and an excellent Musitian; but a deuse on him, it does not seem so, he has sent my Ma­ster home so sick of Melancholy, that I da [...]e swear, this scurvy Tom Piper of D [...]lphos did not play him so much as one fit of mirth, not a lig or Sellengers-round. And now see how he follows a blind Puppy i' th' taile, contrary to Law or Reason: For we that have our eys should lead, not follow the blind. The very Dog in the Chronicles, that had his eyes, stood upon his royal Prerogative, of going before the blinde Beggar of Bednal-green. Nor can he be content to doe it himself, but he must make me too guilty of the same ig­norance. If I but ask him a question, he hath not so much manners as my Granam's Sow; I cannot get him to grunt me an an­swer: yet I cannot choose but speak, though my hedge of Teeth were a Quick-set, my tongue would through. You sir, that say you are my Master, if you doe not tell me why we follow this blundring guide, be sure, I will never leave vexing and tormenting you: you shall tell me, that you shall.

O the Age we live in! Sirra, quintes­sence of impudence! To what a fine passe are you arrived?

Nay 'tis e'en so Sir: Your sword and buckler man must take the wit upon him for once.

But if you do not learn your distance b [...]er; look, is not here a Crabtree-Cudgel▪ [Page 2] beware of weeping-Crosse.

Master, I am priviledg'd: Do you see my Feather? so long as I wear this, 'tis Shrove-tuesday with us Prentises, perpetual Shrove-tuesday.

But if I take off your Feather, then we shall have you presently crest-fa [...]'n, and then my Crabtree Tutor here may read a Lecture of Ethicks to your saucy Shoulders.

Why, and if it do sir; you shall finde that I have as valiant Shoulders as another man. Come exercise your cudgel: You Ma­sters are like Roman Magistrates, you have Rods of authority; yet try, see whether you or I will be first weary. Come you Trifle, all the Cudgels in Christendome, Kent, or New-England, shall never make me quiet, till you shew me who this is we follow. Why, sweet­honey, sugar-cinnamon, delicate Master, if I did not wish you well, do you think I would be so inquisitive? In dud la you must tell me, and I shall be satisfied.

Well, I have not the power to con­ceale thee any longer; for of all my servants, thou art so trusty, true-hearted, faithful and honest, that I dare swear there is not an ar­ranter theif amongst 'um.

Now heaven blesse your Worship. I have alwayes had your Worships commenda­tions, pray Iove I may deserve it! Proceed good Sir.

Well, thus it is: In the dayes of my folly, I was a just, precise, and honest man.

'Twas in the dayes of your folly you were a Precisian, I my self was almost half a one once, but I am converted.

VVell, being honest, I was by natu­ral consequence very poor.

VVho knew not that? Though I know not what your honesty was; yet I am sure there is never a gut in my belly but may swear for your poverty. Nay, and you had no more wit then to be honest in this wise age, 'twere pitty but you should live and dye a beggar.

But others, such as your demure Chea­ters,

That have the true gogle of Amster­dam;

VVith some corrupted Law-gowns, Ployde [...]s Pupils.

That can plead on both sides for Fees;

With Round-headed Citizens, and Cuckolds,

I sir, and Townsmen.

These, I say, grew rich the while.

Damnable rich. Faith, master, such miracles have not ceased in these dayes: I have known many in these times have grown rich out of a poor estate, the devil knows how not I.

Therefore I repaired to Delphos to ask counsel of Apollo, because I saw my self almost arrived at Gravesend, to know if I should bring up my son suitable to the thri­ving trades of this age we live in, viz. to be a Sequestrator, or Pettifogger, or Infor­mer, or Flatterer, or belonging to Knights o'th Post, or a Committee-mans. Clark, or some such excellent [...], clothing himself from top to toe in knavery, without a welt or guard of goodnesse about him. For I see, as the times go now, such thriving education will be the richest portion I can leave him▪

I Sir, leave but your sonne, the le­gacie of Dishonesty, and J will warrant him he shall out-thrive all VVestminster-Hall, and all—

You shall heare. He bid me in plain terms, whomsoever I first met withall, him I should follow, and never leave his company till he came home.

And was this peece of darknesse the first you met with? Now in my conscience he was begot at midnight, goodman Mid­night, and retains the quality of the season. None to meet but Blind-man-buffe, that winks at all faults!

This is the very man.

Troth, and he may tell you your for­tune, Gypsie-like, and all out of your pockets too; He may shew you your destiny: He looks like one of the blind whelps of my old Lady Chance. Ha, ha, ha! Master, though you be born to lands, I see a poor Serving­man may have as large inheritance of wit as [Page 3] a Justice of Peace. VVhy, and't please your Ignorance, any man of brains might easily understand the Gods meaning: why, he bids you bring up your sonne to claim the grand Charter of the City, viz. to be as arrant a Knave as his Countrymen. For truly,

The Oracle doth not tend that way; there is some greater mysterie in it, if this old Cupid would but tell us who he is. Come let's follow him close, perchance we may find out some other meaning.

Act. 1. Scaen. 2.

Master, we have run a terrible long wild-goose chace after this blind Beetle: for my part I sweat every inch of me, one drop fetches another. As for my shooes, you must needs give me a new paire. Their ungodly souls are e'en ready to depart, they are giving up the ghost: And yet we walk like the em­blem of silence; we have not put our blind Gentleman-Usher to any interrogatories. You sir, Homer the second! first I command you in fair terms tell us who you are: if com­mands will not serve the turn, my cudgel shall intreat you.

You were best tell us quickly too.

I tell you, the Devil take you.

Do you hear what he sayes, master? The good old Gentleman bids your Worship good morrow.

He speaks to thee that askt him so clownishly. Sir, if you like the behaviour of a civil Gentleman, do me in courtesie the favour as to tell me who you are.

Why, all the Devils in hell, and as many more confound thee too.

Nay, nay, take him to you, master: keep your Apollo's Oracle to your self; I have no share in it.

Now if thou doest not tell me, by Ceres I will use thee like a Villain as thou art.

Good Gentlemen, let me be behold­ing to you for one infinite favour.

What's that?

Why, to let me be rid of your com­pany.

Master, be ruled by a wiser man then your self, for once, and follow my counsel: Let us take this same old Appius, that has lost the use of his natural spectacles, and carry him to the top of the castle-hill, and there leave him to tumble down and break his neck ere he come to the bottome.

Let it be quickly then.

I, and then wee'll leave him to be hanged the next Assizes, for being a cessory to his own death.

Nay, good merciful Gentlemen!

Will you tell us then, you Owle?

You Bird of the Night, will you tell us?

I will never tell you: for if you but once know who I am, ten thousand to one but you will do me some mischief, you will never let me go.

By heaven we will, if you please.

List then and give ear: for, as far as I can see, being blind, I am constrained to tell what I thought to have concealed. I am Plutus the rich God of wealth: my fa­ther was Pinch-back True-penny, the rich Usurer of Islington; my mother, Mrs. Silver­side, an Aldermans widow: I was born in Golden-Lane, christened at the Mint in the Tower; Banks the Conjurer, and old Hobson the Carrier were my godfathers.

As sure as can be, this Plutus God of wealth is a pure Welsh-man, born with his pedigree in his mouth, he speaks it so natu­rally. I'le lay my life he was beg [...]t and bred in the Silver-mine that Middleton found in Wales.

Thou hadst bin a very Rascal, if thou [Page 4] had'st not told us thy name had been Plutus the God of wealth.

God of wealth! art thou he? O let me kisse thy silver-Jolls!

Thou art welcome to me too. But art thou Plutus God of wealth, and so mise­rably arrayed! O Phoebus, Apollo, O gods and devils, and Iupiter to boot! Art thou Plutus the rich sonne and heire to Pinch­back True-penny!

I am he my self.

But art thou sure that thou thy self art thy self? art thou he?

I am the self-same Plutus Rich, the self-same sonne and heire to the self-same Pinch-back True-penny: marry till my eyes are open, I shall never be heire apparent.

I, but how camest thou so miserable nasty?

Forth from Patrochus den, from Hell at Westminster; conversing with some Black ones there, whose faces since their baptisme hath not been washed.

And why goest thou so lamentably poor?

Iupiter envying the good of mise­rable mortals, put me poor soul into these dismal dumps.

Upon what occasion, pray thee.

I▪ I protest I would.

Onely to them; for I have not seen so much as one of them this many a day.

VVhy, what if you have not, you blinde Puppy-dog? VVhat a wonder's that? VVhy, I that have as good Eyes as any man i'th' company, can hardly finde many: They have more wit now a dayes then go abroad openly. Vertue by that means would become too cheap and common. I remember, J saw one once, but he died young for grief, that he had not wit enough to be a Knave; eve­ry one laught at him for being out of Fashion. Had he lived till now, J would h'showed him at Fleet-bridge for a Monster. J should have begger'd the Beginnning 'oth' World; The strange Birds from America, and the Pop­pets too. J would have blown a Trumpet Ta­rantara, If any man or woman in Town or City be affected with strange miracles, let them repair bither. Here within this place is to be seen a strange Monster; A man that hath both his Ears, and but one Tongue; that cannot carry two Faces under one hood; that has but one couple of Hands, and on each Hand five honest Fingers. And what is more strange, he has but one Heart; who dares, as if he were none of Adams Posterity, be ho­nest at this time 'oth' year; and will give e­very man his due in spight of his teeth.

Js not this as rare as a Blazing Star to look on?

VVell, now you have heard all; pray give me leave to be gone.

Not so by Iove; for now we have a greater desire to stay you then ever.

I told you so, I thought you would be troublesome.

Nay, I beseech you leave us not now▪ for though you should take Diogenes his Lan­thorn [Page 5] and Candle and search from Noon to Night, you could not finde an honester man from the Tropick of Cancer to Capricorn.

Sir, I will swear and be depos'd for my Master▪ he is as arrant a Cancer as any Capricorn in Christendom.

I know they all promise fair, but when they have once got me, they lay aside their thred-bare honesty; as if being grown rich, it were a disparagement to be vertuous any longer.

Yet all men are not knaves.

Yes most, if not all, by Iove.

Pray Sir, though you put my Master in, let me me be excepted. Body of me, call me knave in a crowd! If I be not reveng'd, and that soundly—You were best take heed of your general Rules. Could not you have said (you blind Bussard) for ought I can see you may be one among the rest; but to speak it so peremptorily?

Nay, if you but knew what you should gain by staying! Mark me, I can cure thee of thy blindnesse: I can do as great mi­racles as Enston waters.

Truly, as blinde as I am, I can see when I am well. Have my eysight restored? I hope, I shall never live to see that day.

VVhat sayes the man?

He has a natural desire to be wret­ched, To play at blindman-buff all his life time. Good Mole, what dost thon above ground?

No, no, if Iupiter did but know of this project, he would powder me into a pret­ty pickle.

Heare me man, he cannot sowse thee worse then he has already, to make thee run stumbling o're the world: I warrant, thy shins have cursed him a thousand times.

I know not that, but me thinks my buttocks begin to quake with very thought of him.

I think so; but what the Devil makes thee so timerous? I know if thou shouldest but recover thy ey-sight, thou wouldest not value Iupiters command at three half pence, but break winde in his face to counter-thunder him.

Nay, do not tell me so good VVick­ednesse.

Have but patience, and I will plainly demonstrate that thy Command is greater then any Nubicog Iupiters.

VVhose? mine? Am I such a man, so powerfull?

I tho, if thou hadst but wit and eyes enough to see it; for first, I ask you what does Iupiter reign by?

VVhy, by that which he rained in­to Dana's lap, a showre of silver.

And who lent him that silver?

VVhy, who but Plutus; and yet the beggerly Iove payes him no Use nor Princi­pal: VVell Iupiter, we shall have Plutus lodge you in Ludgate shortly, to take up your Shop, and make your thunder-bolts there, and cry lamentably, For the Lords sake, Bread, Bread for the poore Prisoners; unlesse you can morgage the golden or silver Age to give better security to your Creditour.

Ask, why do men sacrifice to Iove, if not for Silver?

By heaven, for Silver. No penny, no Pate [...]-noster, quoth the Pope. Does good­man Iupiter think we'll pray, to wear out our Stockings at knees for nothing?

Is not Plutus then the Author of grand sacrifices? where would the Directory lie, if it were not for the new Act of the Priests maintenance? Nay, if we were to sa­crifice a Bull or Ram, do you think the But­cher would give it to the god for nothing? No, no, if Plutus should not purchase devo­tion with his coyn, the Olympian Kitchin would smel of nothing but Lent and Fasting­dayes all the year after.

VVhy, I pray, may I put Iupiter out of Commons when I please?

May you? I marry may you. Doest not thou maintain him? He l [...]ves at thy charges. Iupiter had not best anger thee, lest thou take an opinion and starve him.

Say you so? Is it by my courtesie they sacrifice to Iove?

[Page 6]

Yes, altogether; for whom is he ho­nored by?

By reverend Priests.

And dost thou think the Levitical men would not disband, if there were want of pay or Tithes? It is most certain, money is the Catholick Empresse of the world, her com­mands are obey'd from Spain to the Indies.

'Tis true Master, had I been rich (But I curse my Stars, I was born under the three-penny Planet, never to be worth a groat) I should have scorn'd the degree of Sword and Buckler; but now for a little sil­ver and a thred-bare Livery, I have sold the Fee-simple of my self and my liberty, to any worshipfull peece of folly that will undertake me.

I have heard your Gentilizians, your dainty Curtezana's, in plain English, your arrant VVhores of Venice, such as are ready stew'd for any mans appetite: if a poor man desire to sin a little, they presently sit crosse-leg'd; but if a rich man tempt them, at the sound of his Silver they cannot hold their water. VVhy, the VVhores of Pict­hatch, Turnbull, or the unmercifull Bawds of Bloomsbury, under the degree of Plutus, will not let a man be acquainted with the sins of the Suburbs. The Pox is not so cheap as to be given gratis: The unconscionable Queans have not so much charity left as to let you damn your selves for nothing.

'Tis very true that my Master tels you: For Pluta [...]ch reports in the life and death of Besse Bron [...]bton, that she never un­button'd to any of the guard for nothing.

But you may think this is spoken on­ly of bad men, such as have prostituted their souls to the world; As for good Round—they desire not money, no good souls not they.

VVhat then J pray?

VVhy, this wishes for a good Troo­ping horse; that, for a fleet pack of Hounds.

J, when they are ashamed to ask mo­ney in plain terms, they vail their avarice under some such mask or other: but he that wishes for a Horse, makes silver the intent of his journey; and they that beg for Hounds, 'tis money they hunt for.

All Arts and Crafes 'mongst men were by thee invented. I, and the seven Sci­ences (but for thee) they could never have been so liberal.

O horse that I was, never to know my own strength till now!

'Tis this that makes great Philip of Spain so proud.

VVithout thee ( Plutus) the Law­yer would not go to London on any Terms.

All the Generals, Hopton and Mon­tross, are by thee maintained: 'Troth, all the Troopers or Foot-men without thee would never be contented with free-quarter onely, there must come Taxes, Contributions and Excise to boot.

O heavens! can I do all these things you talk of? Ill tide this wretched blinde­nesse of mine, that would never let me see what Command or Power I had: All the world for a pair of Eys and a Looking-glasse! Sure now the Delphian gate and J have good wits: for we jumpt together in this opinion, that it is an excellent thing for a man to know himself: J shall love a Nosce teipsum as long as J live for this trick. Can J doe all these things?

All these? J by heaven canst thou, and millions more then these. VVhy there was never any man weary of thy company (O god of wealth) Thou art a welcome guest where ere thou comest. There is plenty of all things: Plenty of Love.

And pienty of VVhite-bread and Butter.

Plenty of Honour.

And plenty of Cheese-cakes.

Plenty of Friends.

[Page 7]

And plenty of Bag-puddings.

Plenty of Servants.

And plenty of Furmenty.

Plenty of Health.

And plenty of Custards.

Plenty of Command.

And plenty of Pease-porredge.

Never any man has enough of thee. If he can change a Groat, yet he despairs of a Bed till he can get a Tester. Then he pro­cures a full Jury of pence to be empannell'd for the finding out of a Shilling. That done, the ambitious Niggard will fain usurp a Crown, which must be made a Noble one: And that is never safe, till it have a good Angel to guard it. All this obtain'd, he can­not without a Mark be reckoned a man of notice: Nor has he a patch of a Gentleman, till he be worth a Peece.

The good old Gentleman thinks he has jested all thiswhile handsome grave gray­pated quiblets. Good heaven, what pretty things these wits are, when they are out of date!

When the Purse is full, the Pouch gapes; and when the Pouch hath his belly­full, the great Chest yawns-wide enough to swallow [...] [...]dies, and Goldsmiths-Hall, and the Devil to boot; and yet when all is done, they think themselves as poor as I [...]us, if their estates do not out-value Doomsday­book.

You say true, Sir: yet methinks I am afraid of one thing.

VVhat is that?

That I shall never attain to that [...]utopia you speak of, 'tis a country so hard to conquor; Castles in the aire are very im­pregnable.

Sir, upon my word, let not that trou­ble you: Do your endeavour, and i'le war­rant you shall see as perfectly as any Lynceus in Christendome.

Then Lynceus! what was he?

One that could see the very motes in the sun, and the least things in the world.

I can see the least in the world al­ready, I thank you for nothing: I can see lesse then any Lynceus living. But how canst thou, poor mortal worm, take off the seque­stration of my eye-sight, and restore me to perfect seeing again?

Ha, ha, ha! How does he know so much? I never was acquainted with that same Apollo in my life. I remember I have been foxt at his Oracle at Temple-bar. I am afraid this Apollo is one of your fellow-Juglers.

Cannot a man perswade you? have not I said it?

VVell then, do you look to it.

So we had need, for you cannot your self.

Take you no care, I will do it though I die to morrow before breakfast.

Marry and that were a miserable thing to go to the grave upon a fasting sto­mack. Pray master, when you take in hand the cure of Plutus his eyes, let poor Ca [...]yon have a finger in it.

A finger in it! That were the way to put out his eyes.

'Tis strange, master, you should have no more understanding: my meaning was, you would accept of my help, (good Mr. Chremylus.)

VVell sirrah, we will; and some o­ther fellow-partners too, some of our plun­dered neighbours that are enjoyned for pe­nance to fast four dayes a week, for having surfeited on too much honesty.

Marry heaven forbid, I shall be ill holp up with such miserable helpers as they: the hungry Rascals will go neer to devoure me quick like Irish canibals. No, let me be blind still, that my eyes may never be con­scious to the plundring of my flesh & bones in peeces. 'Twere a miserable spectacle for them to begin with.

[Page 8]

I warrant, you need not fear that: if they once grow rich, they'll rather feed on Rost-beef and Marrow-bone pyes, like Com­mittee men, then cosen the worms of so lean a carcasse. Sirra Carion, where be your cou­ple of Footmen?

Here master, what should I do?

Run and call my honest poor neigh­bours, you shall find the miserable drudges tugging at the Plough-taile for their Land­lords. No, now I think on't, the Excise-men came to day and fetcht them away for contri­bution. Go to them, you know the way to the Office neer Cuckolds-Pound, London. Tell them in their eares, that we have Plutus at home, and will share him amongst us: we'll divide him into severall messes, and each man take his part by seniority. But stay, do you heare: beware of Knaves, and of Veale.

Veale it seems is not so good. But what shall I do with this Leg of Mutton here? I dare not venture the safety of it amongst 'um; the villains carry dangerous teeth a­bout 'um.

Wee'll take care for that: meet me at home two houres hence.

O what a plot are we going about! I could laugh for joy.

ô what a plot is this, to blow up all the knaves in a kingdom together, nay in all the world, put in Turks, Jewes, Pagans and Jnfidels! Why, Catesby and Percy were punies. Garnet and Digby and Faux, if they had gone about such an honest Gun-powder treason as this, they had never had their heads upon poles a Daw-catching over the Parliament-House. Well, they were hang'd for knaves and fools; but we shall thrive, and be wise and worship­ful, and honest too, for Carion's a man in the plot.

Act. 1. Scaen. 3.

Who's this? my eye-sight fails me; what's your name?

Scrape-all your kinsman, lives at Islington

Of what profession is he?

A Parson verily.

What would he have?

Yes out of both; that is, never of either.

Yes Sir. Now thank your Patron, and be gone.

Thankatus & Godamericatus ve­ster dignitas.

He gives your Worship thanks and god-a-mercy.

J easily believe it.

Scaen. 1.

Come along you old Hobnails. J'le have your horses shod with gold of Ophir or Peru▪ Ha, you old Muck-worms! J'le make your Hog-trough paunches so fat, that the leanest of you all shall out-weigh the Arch­bishop of Spalato. What an Esopical roar­ing Lion am J, to lead this army of Asses into the field! Come, my masters, old friends, you that have eat many a bushel of salt, J would say garlick in his coompany▪ Make haste you Plough-lacquies, Boots his kinsmen. You neighbour Lackland, set the best foot forward. And you goodman Clodpole, old Snaile with a slimy nose, if you make not haste, they will have done scrambling ere we come.

Now by the rood of my Granam's soul, J'ch go as vast as my leggs will beare me. What would you have of an old man, that's grown crazy?

Crazy!

J, crazy. Do you think a man that has one voot in the grave can trudge as vast as zuch a young knave as thou? When J was a stripling of thy age, J could have trickt it ivaith, Mr. Ficar knowes, with the best of the Parish.

Neighbour, neighbour, J'le tell [Page 10] you what I do devise you now, this is my pinion.

Your pinion, you goose? and what is your pinion?

Marry this is my pinion now: This saucy knave may do it to uflout us. 'Tis best [...]o command of him what is his masters con­tention in [...]ending vor us now la.

Why have not I told you? My ma­ster zends for you to change this nasty con­dition of yours into some delicate happinesse. You shall be rich, you Rogues, all of you Justices of Peaces, Lords, Emperors, or what is more, High-Constables.

Very well said. But I will be none of his Peaces nor Lords; let me be a High-Constable. I will have a new v [...]aile as zoon as I come to my honours, and thou shalt be next to exzeed me in my house-of-Office.

I, but neighbours, how shall this be defected? Let him dissolve us of that now, it seems not possetible, so it does not.

Why you Villiago's, my master has brought home an old lame, rotten, mangy, toothlesse, saplesse, bald-pate, rusty musty crusty fusty dusty old Dotard, just such an­other as my neighbour Stiffe or Lackland, or you Clodpole with a slimy nose, with a great bunch-back.

A bunch-back! Nay then thou art a meszenger of gold. Hah neighbours, that was not a bunch-back, I warrant you la, they were huge bags of gold. That's another pini­on of mine, neighbours, what do you jecture in that?

You jecture like an asse: That bunch at his back was but a natural budget of old mischiefs.

Do not think to play the Jack­anapes with me for nothing. Have I not here a good cudgel? if thou do, thou shalt be clap­per-de-claw'd.

I wonder what you take me for: what dishonesty did you ever know by me?

Dishonesty, zay you! None, not we. 'Tis a very honest Monky: Yet I have zeen him, neighbours, zit in Bridewell, when the loving vetters have been close friends to his legs.

Very true; at the same time you were one of the Justices of hell, Radamanthus had newly resigned his office to you.

Now the murrain founder thee, thou parlous wag, thus to 'buse thy betters! Sirra, look you deveal unto us why your ma­ster hath vited [...]s from our natural poccu­pations.

Prick up your ears then, and I will tell you. My master hath brought home Plutus to enrich you all. Thou shalt be Maior of the City; canst not thou sleep on the Bench? Thou shalt be Baily; hast not thou wit enough to tell clocks? And all the rest of your frozen-bearded Neighbours, understanding Aldermen.

Nay zo they be Aldermen, 'tis no matter vor Understanding: 'tis a beggerly quality vit for none but poor Schollers and Losophers. But has thy master got Plutus, and shall we all be rich in good zooth, Carion?

I in zooth neighbour Lackland, as rich as Midas, if you had but asses ears.

Nay, vor if that be all, I shall do well enough I warrant you, mine are of a pretty length already: it does me good at the heart neighbours, zo it does.

Vaith would Mr. Olip-latine our Ficar were here too. He's an honest man, he reads Common-prayer▪ we can vollow him and understand him; He will not med­dle with Diricks-stories nor Extrumperies. He has but poor twanty Nobles a year, think of it Neighbours.

Vaith and thou saiest right neigh­bour Stiffe, and he gives us good destructions once a moneth, as good as a Nomine.

I, and I like him: He's none of the Hum-drums, he'll clap it up quickly, e­specially if there be a match at the Alehouse,

Masse, and he'll drink Sack and Claret as fast as any Synod man.

I, neighbours, and he's none of them that be proud; he will not scorn to drink with his poor neighbours too: if Plutus would give him twice twanty Nobles, I would not think it too much.

I warrant, our Propriator would [Page 11] hang himself vo [...]e he would allow it.

Tis no matter, we'll tition Plutus our selves vor him.

Nay neighbours, and lets tell him he'll cursten and bury after the old way. I warrant, when Mr. Clip-latin's gone, we shall never have such a man again to fit the parish. Every one loves him, but Never-good the Sequestrator, that—

When Plutus comes, we'll think of him. Vaith neighbours, shall we be rich? What will my neighbour Rem-all do? He'll get him a Satten-doublet, and scorn his proud Landlord: And Steal-all the Tailor, and Noyse the Ballad-singer will ride about in Coaches, and all the rest of um too.

Vaith, shall we have Plutus! shall we be rich! I shall e'en throw away my leather­slops & my pitchforks. O it joyces my heart! Neighbours, it is as good news as a pot of ale and a tost in a vrosty morning.

I could give a penny for a May-pole to dance the morris vor arrant joy. Shall we be rich ivaith!

Bleat you like Ewes the while.

Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.

Like frisking Kids full merrily go, Threttanelo, Threttanelo.

And sing we all—

Dance out your coats like lecherous goats, Threttanelo, Threttanelo!

And sing we all—

But come you Pig-hogs, let us leave jesting. I restore you to your old Metamor­phosis, as you may see in the first leaf of Vir­gils Bucolicks. I will go the next way to the Cup-board, and fill my guts like an Emperor. And then if you have any thing to maund me on a full stomack, you may ply me in what you please.

Act. 2. Scaen. 2.

Honest neighbours, welcome: I will not bid you good morrow now. That was my salutation in the dayes of poverty: that stink­ing complement never fitted my mouth, but when my breath smelt of onions and garlick. Gramercy old blades, for coming. Let me hug you. Oh what a sweet armful of friends is here! If you be but valiant now, and de­fend Plutus, the least of you all shall have wealth enough to confront Prester-Iohn, and the Grand Signior too.

Jf that be all, my life for yours. Vali­ant! Why Mars himself was an arr [...]nt coward to me; I have beat him at voot-ball above twenty times. Jf you did but zee me once, J warrant you would call me goodman Hector as long as I lived for't. Did you not zee how J cuffe with Hercules for a two-peny loaf last Curmasse? Let Plutus go! No, let me re­turn again to Onyons and Pease-porredge then, and never be acquainted with the hap­pinesse of a Surloyn of rost-beef.

Well neighbours, march in. J see Blepsidemus coming toward. He has heard of my good fortune, that makes him foot it so fast. Jn the dayes of my poverty all my friends went on crutches; they would come to me as fast as black Snails: but now they can out­run Dromedaries. This 'tis to be rich and [Page 12] Now I have a rich Load-stone lyeth under my Threshold that draws in all their Iron Spurs.

Act. 2. Scaen. 3.

Friend Blepsidemus, welcome; I am not the same beggerly Chremylus I was yesterday. Be merry, true-blew, be merry; thou art one of my friends too, I'le put you all into a hu­mor of thriving.

Are you so wealthy sir, as report speaks?

Danger? VVhat danger?

VVhy, J'le tell thee all. Jf we bring this busines to passe, we shall be brave blades, Be drunk with Sack and Claret every day; glutted with roast Beef, Pasties and Marry­bone-pies: but if our hopes be frustrate, we are undone, we must to Leeks and Onions again.

VVhat honesty?

Marry heavens forbid! there's no such cause nor matter.

Nay, trifle now no longer: 'tis too manifest.

You do me wrong, thus to suspect a friend.

By heaven I think thou art mad. Do thy naked brains want clothing, Blepsidemus? for J see thy wit is gone a wool-gathering.

As sure as can be, some gib'd Cat that died issuelesse, has adopted thee for her Heire, and bequeathed the legacy of her me­lancholy to thee. Jt is impossible thou should'st be so mad else.

Nay, good Raven, do not croak so. J know what your croaking tends to. Now if J had stoln any thing, you and the Devill would have put in for a share.

Do I do this to claim my share, what share▪

[Page 13]

Come there is no such matter my fin­gers have not learn'd the sleight of hand. Picking and stealing is none of their profes­sion.

VVhat melancholy Devil has possest thee? J am sure it is no merry one. This madnesse doth not smel of Edmonton.

VVhom have you plunder'd then? whose Bung is nipt.

No mans.

I see, friend, you condemn me [...]'re you know the truth.

I will not have you undertake any thing for me; you will be at too much charges: Sir, my intent is to enrich all ho­nest men.

Why, have you stoln so much?

No faith, a little will serve the turn, there are so few of them. But sirra, know J have Plutus himself at home.

VVho, Plutus? God of wealth.

The same, by heaven and hell.

VVhat, heaven and hell by Westmin­ster-hall, where Lawyers and Parliament men eat French-broth? Have you Plutus, by Vesta?

Yes and by Neptune too.

VVhat Neptune? Neptune of the Sea?

By Neptune of the Sea, or any other Neptune in Europe. He is the smal-leg [...]d Gentleman-Ushers god; for his Chariot is drawn with Calves.

VVhy do you not send him about a­mong your friends?

What, before he have recovered his ey-sight?

Why, is Plutus blinde?

By Iove is he.

Nay, J did alwayes think so; and that's the reason he could never finde the way to my house.

But now he shall at a short-hand.

VVhat, Brachygraphy? Thomas Shel­tons Art?

No, I mean suddenly.

He shall be welcome: But why do you not get some skilfull Oculist for him? Have you never a Chyrurgion about the town that hath Eyes to sell of his own making?

Now the Spittle-house on the Puck­fist tribe of them. If a man have but a cut Finger, the Cure of it shall be as long as the Siege of Breda: Physitians and Surgeons are good for nothing but to fill Graves and Hos­pitals.

Sure then, that's the reason none but Sextons pray for them.

No, i'le have a better device; he shall go to the Temple of Esculapius.

Come let us make haste, To be rich as soon as we can. Dives qui fieri vult, Et cito vult fieri—

VVe will get a Fieri facias of the Lawyers. They pick all the wealth out of the Country-mens pockets. Have but pati­ence, J will warrant thee as Rich as any Al­derman.

Act 2. Scaen. 4.

Must J needs meet you, you old Do­tards? Are you not ashamed of your gray Coxcombes? you are going about a fine piece of impudence, to undoe me and all my children. But J shall plague you for it.

Now Hercules and his club defend me!

J le cut your throats, and slit your impudent gurgulio's, you Calves at three­score: How dare you undertake such confe­deracy? but you shall throttle for't, by all [Page 14] the ash-colour'd cattle about me.

What creature is this with the Red­oker face? She looks as if she were begot by Marking-stones.

By stones sure: tis some E [...]ynnis that is broke loose from the Tragedy.

By Ieronymo, her looks are as terri­ble as Don Andraea, or the Ghost in Hamlet.

Nay, 'tis rather one of Belzebub's Heralds.

Why so?

VVhy, doest thou not see how many several Coats are quartered in her Arms?

So, so; and who do you think I am?

Some Bawd of Shoreditch, or Turn­bul Broker of Maidenheads, &c.

VVhy woman, why dost thou follow us? we have done thee no wrong.

No, good honest Scavengers, no wrong! By the skin betwixt my eye-browes, but Ile make you know 'tis a wrong. Is it no wrong to cast me out of every place, and leave me no where to be in?

Yes, thou shalt have the liberty of Hell, and all good kindnesses the honest Devils can do thee, for my sake. But what art thou? why dost not thou tell us who thou art?

One that will be soundly revenged on you all, for committing more then gun­powder treason against a poor woman, that hath not so much as a tooth in her head that means you any harm.

VVe will not trust so much as thy gums for all that. VVho art thou?

I am Poverty, Penia Poverty, eldest daughter of Asotus Spend-all, of Brecknock­shire; One that hath kept house with you this thirty years and upwards; I have sate winter and summer at your Great-grandfathers table.

O Apollo and the rest of the Spittle­house gods! tell me how I may run away.

Nay, stay you cowardly drone.

Stay! no not for the world, I will not keep Poverty company; there be vormine about her which I would be loth should cosen the worms of my carkasse.

Dare you grunt, you unethical Ru­sticks, being taken in the fact?

Stay Coward, shall two men run a­way from one woman?

One woman! I, but 'tis Poverty; Penia Poverty, or Penia Pennylesse.

No Tyger so cruel: I had rather fight with Mall Cutpurse and my Lady Sands both to­gether at quarter-staffe.

Good Blepsidemus stay.

Good Chremylus run away.

Shall we leave Plutus thus?

How shall we resist this warlike Amazon, the valiantest of all Tinkers truls and doxies! She has made me pawn my Bilbo-blade and rusty Head-piece at the Alchouse many a time in arrant policy. Let us run; there is no hope of safety but in foot­manship. Our valour is clean contrary to Achilles, for our greatest security lies in our heels. Let us run: Stone-walls are not defence enough, her hunger will break through and devoure us.

Take thy Porredge-pot (man) for a Helmet, thy Ladle for a Spear, and a Sword of Bacon, and thou art arm'd against Poverty cap-a-pe: And then Plutus shall come and cut her throat, and raise a trophy out of her miserable carkasse.

Da [...]e you snarl, you Currs, after the contriving such damnable injury?

What injury, you old Beldame! We have not ravisht thee, I am sure; thy beauty is not so much moving. Doest think we mean to lie with Red-Oker! to commit fornica­tion with a Red-Lattice! I know not what thy lower parts can do; but thy very Fore­head is able to burn us. Let thy Salamander-Nose and Lips live in perpetual flames, for me; Iove send thee everlasting fire! There is no Cupid in thy complexion: a man may look upon thee, without giving the flesh oc­casion to tempt the spirit: i [...] all were made of the same clay thou art, Adultery would be a stranger in England.

O immortal gods, is it no injury to restore Plutus to his eye-sight! Now Furi [...]s put our all your eyes, and then consume all the dogs in Christendome, that there may be none to lead you!

[Page 15]

What harm is it to you, if we study the catholike good of all mankind?

What catholike good of mankind? I'm sure the Roman catholike religion com­mands wilfull poverty.

That is because Plutus is blind: his blindnesse is the cause of that devotion. But when Plutus can see again, we will kick you out of the Universe, and leave you no place but the Universities: marty those you may claim by custome, 'tis your pennylesse bench; we give you leave to converse with sleeveless Gowns and thred-bare Cassocks.

But what if J perswade you its ne­cessary that Poverty live amongst you?

Perswaded! we will not be perswa­ded; for we are perswaded not to be per­swaded, though we be perswaded. Thus we are perswaded; and we will not be perswa­ded to perswade our selves to the contrary, any wayes being perswaded.

If J do not, do what you will with me; leave me no place to rest in, but the empty Study of that pittiful Poet, that hath botcht up this poor Comedy with so many patches of his ragged wit, as if he meant to make Poverty [...] Coat of it.

[...] Tu [...]pana, kai Cophona [...] [...] Jack Dolophin and his Kettle-drum defend us.

But if you be convicted and non­plust, what punishment will you submit your self unto?

To any.

Ten deaths: other Cats have but nine, Gram [...]lkin her self. Let us be sure Po­very die out▪right, I begin to be bowsie in he [...] company▪ Let's march.

Yet I thank Iove I am better ac­quainted in City and Country, then these think of. In the City many that go in gay­clothes know me; in the Country I am known for Taxes, Excise and Contributions: besides I have an army royal of Royalists, that now live under the S [...]questration-Planet, J shall muster them up if need be. But first I will go ma [...]shal up my Forlorn-hopes of Tat [...]erde­mallians, welch, English, Scols, and Irish. J hope to give these Round—a breakfast, for all they vapour now; I hope to bring 'um under my dominion shortly.

Act. 2. Scaen. 5.

Naighbours, I'ch hear we must chop Logick with Poverty; 'cha wonder what this Logicking is, tid never know yet te yeer: they zay one gaffer Aristotle was the first vounder of it, A bots on him!

Cha remember my zon went to the Varsity, and I ha heard him say a fine song:

At Oxford▪ or Cambridge 'twould make a man a hungry to heare 'um talk of Gismes and Argations, and Pretticables and Predi­caments, and gatur Antecedens and Pro [...]ums and Postriorums, and Probo's and Valleris. Cha think this Logick a hard thing next to the Black-Art.

Naighbours, an't be zo, what a mur­rin ails us! why, shall we venture Plutus on Pretticables and Predicarments? shall we lose all our hopes by an Argo valleris? This is my pinion, this same Poverty will prove the best Computant of um all: why, she cannot choose but repute (as Mr. Ficar sayes) very well, and most tregorically.

Tregorically! Categorically neigh­bour; Sir Iohn meant so I warrant you.

VVhy, tregorically, and catergoli­cally; T [...]e and Cater, there's but an ace dif­ference, therefore bate me an ace quoth Bolton, and I say she will repute very well and tregorically, for she hath ever kept com­pany with Scholars ever since my memory or my Granams either. No, let me take my Catergorical Flail in hand; and if J do not [Page 16] thresh her to death with lusty arguments, let me never live to problem again at a Pease­rick.

Naighbours, be content. Poverty stand you on one side▪ and I [...]le, stand on the other; for I will be opposite to you è dia­metro, and teach you to know your distance. Thus I dispute. The question is, Whether Plutus ought to receive his eye-sight? I say I, & sic probo.

That Argo has netled her, I war­rant. Thou shalt be Plutus his Professor for this. VVhat has my she- Bellarmine now to answer?

In my pinion this simple-gisme—

Fie neighbour, 'tis a Syllogisme.

VVhy simple and silly is all one: be what Gisme it will be, sure 'twas not in true mud and fig-tree, there was never a Tar-box in the breech of it.

O Dotards, how easily you may be perswaded to die as arrant fools as you were born! If Plutus recover his eye-sight, and distribute his riches equally, you shall see what will become of your Anabaptistical Anarchy: what arts or sciences would re­main. If every Vulcan be as good as your selves, what Smug will make your VVorships dripping-pans?

VVhy he that makes the Fire­shovels and Tongs▪ or if all fail, Quisque est fortun [...] suae faber, we'll make our driping pans our selves: we can do more then that, we can preach to our selves already.

VVho would coble your shooes, or mend your honorable stockings?

O there be Sermon-makers enough can do that bravely: the only Metaphysicks they are beaten in, Rem acu▪ [...]angunt.

VVho would carry you up to London, if the VVaggon-driver should think himself as good a man as his master?

VVhy we would ride thither on our own Hackney-Consciences.

Nay if this were so, the very Tailers though they damn'd you all to hell under their shop-boards, would scorn to come to the making up of as good a man as Pericles Prince of Tyre.

Marry that were a happy time for the Low-Countries: the Spanish Pike would not then be worth a Bodkin.

There would be no Presbyters to directorise you, no Landresses to sope you, no Plough-men to feed you, no Inne-keepers [Page 17] to fox you, no Sycophants to flatter you, no Friends to cheat you. Ergo you have brought your hogs to a fair market.

How she proves her self a Sow in conclusion!

'Twas in Conclusion, that it might not be denied. Me thinks Poverty disputes very poorly, and that's a wonder; for likely the naked truth is on her side.

Yet she remembred an Argo, and that made her argument not so weak and im­pudent: in my pinion this Argo is a Quarter­staffe at least.

And ( Poverty) what good turn can you do us, except it be to fill our eares with the bawlings of hungry brats and brawling bastards? No doubt you can bring us a flock of fleas and a herd of lice to store the pa­sture grounds of our miserable Microcosmes; the unmannerly hogs with hunger betimes to desire us to deferre our breakfasts a fortnight longer. You can give us field-beds, with heaven for our canopy, and some charitable stones for our pillows. VVe need not expect the felicity of a horse to lie at rack and man­ger; but yet our asses and we must be con­tent with the same provender. No Rost-beef, no shoulders of Mutton, no Cheese-cakes, no Matchivilian Florentines:

Ergo ( Poverty) I will answer your arguments at the whipping-post.

That was strong and piercing for Plumb-porredge: for truly one porrenger of Plumb-porredge is an argument more un­answerable then Campians ten Reasons.

Aliter probo sic. Your poor crea­tures have not wherewith to bu [...]y themselvs; but it is not fit that the soul should go a beg­ing for the charges of the bodies funerall. Ergo falleris Domina Poverty.

You do not dispute seriously, you put me off with trifling [...]gations. Thus I dispute. If I make men better then Riches, I am to be preferred before Riches. But I make men better: for poor men have the better consci­ences, because they have not so much guilt, J call their empty purses to witnesse. Aliter probo sic. J moralize men better then Plutus: Exemplum gratia: Plutus makes men with pufft faces, dropsie bodies, Bellies as big as the great Tub at Heidelberg; Noses by the vertue of Malmsie so full of Rubies, that you may swear, had Poverty had dominion in their Nativities, they had never had such rich faces: Besides, they have eyes like Turky­cocks, Double-chins, Flapdragon-cheeks, Lips that may spare half an ell, and yet leave kissing room enough. Nay, 'tis the humour of this age, they think they shall never be great men, unlesse they have grosse bodies. Marry I keep men spare and lean, slender and nimble; mine are all Diminutives, Tom Thumbs, not one Colossus, not one Garagan­tua amongst them; fitter to encounter the enemy by reason of their agility, in l [...]e dan­ger of shot for their tenuity, and most expert in running away, such is their celerity. Ergo, Irus is a good souldier, and Midas is an asse.

Troth she has toucht Midas; she has caught him by the worshipful ears.

Nay tis no wonder if they be slender enough, you keep them with such spare diet: they have so much Lent and Fasting-dayes, that they need not fear the danger of being as fat as Committee-men. If a man should see a company of their lean carkasses assem­bled together, 't would make him think Dooms-day were come to town before its time.

Moreover, that which is most noble is most preferrable. But Poverty is most noble. Minor I prove thus: Whose houses are most ancient, those are most noble: But Poverties houses are most antient; for some of them are so old, like Vicaridge-houses, they are every hour in danger of falling.

What a silly womans this to talk of Nobility houses! Does not she know we are all Levellers, there's no Nobility now.

Neighbour, I think so too: I am an Unpundant too, I think.

Nay she does not dispute well. Her Ma [...] was born in Bedlam, her Minor w [...]s whipt in Bridewell, Ergo her Conclusion is [Page 18] run out of her wits. For well said M. Rhombus, Ecce mulier blancata quasi lilium. Now I oppose her with a Dilemma, alias the Cuc­kold of Arguments. My Dilemma is this: Citizens and Townsmen are [...]ich, for there's the Co [...]nucopia; Ergo, Riches are better then Poverty. Nay, i [...] Riches were not in some account, why would Iupiter be so rich? for you see he has engrossed to himself the golden age of [...], and the silver age of Shillings and Six-pences, and left us no­thing but the brazen age of Plundring and Impudence; for Tinkers Tokens are gone away too. To conclude in one syllogisme more, J will prove my Tenet true by the example of [...] Queen of Hell; she would turn the Clark of her Kitchin out of his of­fice, and not suffer him to be the Devils man­c [...]ple any longer, if he should bring any lean carkasse or any carrion-soul to be served up at her table. Her chief dish is the larded soul of a plump Usurer, basted with the dripping of a greasie Alderman; the sauce being made with the braines of a great Conger­headed Lawyer, butter'd with the grease of a well-fed Committee-man, served up for want of sawcers in the two eares of an un­conscionable Scrivener. Ergo, Poverty, you may go and hang your s [...]lf.

O for the Barbadoes! J have no place left for my entertainment.

Come brethren, let us kick her out of the Universe.

O whither shall J betake my self!

To the house of Charity.

To the house of Charity? that's an old ruin'd cold lodging, as bad as a Corre­ction house. Good your worships, take some pitty on miserable Poverty!

Did you ever hear such a solecisme?

Troth master, J never knew it in my life: All our Parish was ever against it.

And ours too, and J think all Eng­land over.

Poverty, then J say thou shalt have a Justice of Peaces charity, the whipping­post; thou shalt be lasht under the statute of sturdy Rogues and Beggers: look for no pitty, 'tis charity to pitty those that are rich: Go get you packing.

VVell, sirs, though you put Poverty away now, yet you or your heirs may be glad to send for me ere long.

Jt shall be to the gallows then, by my consent: if you mean to prevent it, the best way is to go and pine away quickly.

Farewell old Rag of Babylon, for we must be rich, and therefore worshipfull.

By your leave Mr. Parson.

Act. 2. Scaen. 6.

Last night J laught in my sleep. The Queen of Fairies tickled my nose with a Tithe-p [...]gs taile. J dreamt of another Be­nefice, and see how it comes about! Next morning Plutus the God of wealth comes to my house, and brings me an Augmentation and a good fat Living. He said he came to visit me: as sure as can be J am ordained to be rich at his Visitation, 'tis better then the Bishops or Archdeacons. Now must J be one of the Assembly, and walk demurely in a long black Cl [...]ak at Westminster, forgetting all my Greek and Latine.

Faith brother, that have J done al­ready: my name's Cl [...]p-latine truly; J read a Homily, and pray by the Service-book divinely.

Divinely, quoth a! Thou must take Ex tempore in hand, or else thou wilt nere be rich in these dayes.

Do you hear, neighbours! shall us leave the Common-Prayer?

God forbid, Mr Ficar! why 'twas writ in Davids time; and Thomas Ste [...]nhold and Iohn Hopkins joyn'd it to the Psalms in those dayes, and turn'd it into such excellent Metre, that J can sleep by it as well as any in the Parish.

Besides, naighbour, we don't know this new Sect what they pray, we can't vol­low them in their Ext [...]umperies.

You see the case is cleer, Sir: J am [Page 19] for the King and the Prayer-Book.

VVell said Parson, we shall love thee the better for that, hold there still.

Yet (Brother) because thou art of our cloth, I'le speak to Plutus for thee. Thou shalt have twenty pounds per annum standing stipend, and the love of thy Parish because thou takest nothing of them, Doest mark me? Twenty pounds, I say. I must be gone.

A good saying and a rich. Now shall I surfiet in a Sattin Cloak; from twen­ty nobles to twenty pounds! O brave!

VVe are glad of it vaith Mr. Ficar.

Come Neighbours, upon this good news, lets chop up and to my Nost Sn [...]go's, he'le be glad to hear of it too. I am resolved to build no more Sconces, but to pay my old tickets. Come let's in and drink a Cup of stingo.

Act. 2. Scaen. 7.

O the divinity of being rich! Now Plutus is come. But who is Plutus? VVhy, he is the Noblemans Tutor, the Princes and States fl [...]et of Pl [...]te, the Lawyers Littleton, the Major and Aldermens Fur-gown, the Justice's Warrant, the Constable and Bum­bailies Tip-staffe, the Astronomers Blazing star, the Mathematicians Record or counting table, the Cavaliers Service-book, the Pres­byterians Directory, the Independens Ex­tempore, the Popes golden Legend, the Fri­ars Nun, the Monkes Breviary, the World­lings God, the Prelates Cannons, and Bi­shops Oath, &c.—I could reckon more, but he is the very Ladder to worship and ho­nour. I must be rich, and therefore hono­rable, and proud, and grave.

O gentleman-like resolution!

Yet now I think on't, J will not be grave; for grave bodies do naturally descend to base Conditions, which is clean contrary to the complexion of my humour; yet J will cry hum with the best in the Parish. J will understand as little as the [...] Citizen of them all.

Marry, and that's a proud word, Blep­sidemus.

I will sleep as soundly at Church and snort as loud at Sermons as the Church­warden himself, or the Master of the Com­pany.

O infinite ambition!

I will entertain none for my Whores under the reputation of Ladies, unlesse they be Parsons daughters.

O! because they may claim the be­nefit of the Clergie.

I will daign none the honour of be­ing my worships Cuckolds, that is not a round-headed Brother of the Corporation.

He'el make it a principle of the City Charter. Horns of such making, will be of as great esteem as the Cap of maintenance.

Hereafter Gentlemen, hereafter, I say, in contempt of a penny quart, I will throw P [...]spot-lane in the face of Py-corner: J will be foxt no where but at Round-headed Inns, that J may be honestly drunk, and carry it with the greater gravity and safety. The soule of Sack and the flower of Ale shall be my drink, that my very Urine may be the quintessence of Canary.

VVhy then, V [...]spasian might desire no greater Revenue, then the reversion of your Chamber-pot.

But come let us withdraw, and car­ry Plutus to the Temple of Esculapius; Ca­rion make ready the necessaries, see you play the Sumpter-horse with discretion. Let us make haste, for J long to be worshipfull.

Scaen. 1.

Poverty, poverty, poverty for our money!

Nay, without money Sirs, and be constant too.

Poverty, poverty, poverty, our Pa­tronesse!

Cats plutrer a nailes; Her were best by her troth take very many heeds, how her make a commotion in her stomachs; if her ploud be but up twice and once, her will tug out her Sword, and gads nigs, let her take very many heed, her will carbonado very much Legs and Arms. By St: Taffie, I'se tear the most valiantest of them all into as arrant Atomes as there be motes in the Moon. Try he dare whose will; I tickle their hoop­sir Dominees, else, never let her sing hapate­ry, while she has live any longer. If her doe not conquer them upside down, let her ne­ver while she lives in Heuiope, god blesse her, eat Coush-bobby with the man in the Moon. Her Coshen Merlin her Country-man, hath told her in a Whisper, very a many much tale of her valour above forescore and twenty years since.

And Termock vill shpend te besht ploud in hish heelsh in the servish.

Renowned Termock, thanks from our Princely self.

Nay, keep ty tancks to thy self, Ter­mock is ty trushty shubsheckt.

And aies w [...]s gang with thee Mon. Aies have bin a prupder gud man in the Bor­ders. Aies fought blith and bonny for the gewd Earle Duglasse: Aies show thy foemen a Scutch trick. Aies mumble their crags like a Sheeps-head or Cokes-nose, Ais I do not let me bund to Sup with nothing but Perk and Sow-baby.

Nay's mon, aif I cannot give 'um mickle rashers enough my self, aies gang home to my Belliba [...]ne and get lusty Martial Barns, shall pell mell their Noddles: What gars great Higgen?

[Page 21]

Yaws grand Captain, fir, suft and fair; gar away, there be gewd men in the Company. Aies Captain, for aies have more scutch Lice, then thou hast English creepers, or He Brittish Goats about him.

Pleash ty shit grash, let nedder nod­der of them my shit Empresse have te plash of ty Captain, J am te besht of edder odder. J have seen te fash of the vild Irish. Termock knows vat it is to fight in the Pogs like a valiant Costermonger, up to the Nosh in ploud. Not to make much prittle and prat­tle to none purposh▪ Termock has fight un­der Oncale, for her King and Queen in te wars. Vat, J speak tish by te Shoes of Patrick, if that Termock be the Captain, thou shalt beat ty foes to peeces and pashes.

Is Caradock no respected amongst her; Her Lice are petter a pedecree as the gooddst of them all. Her Lice come ap Shin­kin, ap Shon, ap Owen, ap Richard, ap Mor­gan, ap Hugh, ap Brutus, ap Sylvius, ap E­neas, and so up my shoulder. An't her Lice will no [...] deshenerate from her petticree pre­tious Coles. Her ancestors fought in the Wars of Troy, by this Leck, as lustily as the Lice of Troilus. Nay, by St. Taffie, the Lice of Hector, were but Nits in comparison of her magnanimous Lice. Do not disparage her nor her Lice, if her love her guts in her pelly.

But if Termock have no Lish, sall l e derefore not be te Captain? Posh on her Lish. Termock hash none grash a Patrick; no such venemous tings vill preed in hish Country.

'Faith, and her clothes are as anci­ent a petticree▪ as thine, her fery Dublet is coshen sherman to utter P. ndragons Sherken, or else Caradock is a fery rogue by Saint Taffie.

I faith! she is a brave Virago mon.

She sall be te Captain, for all tee, or any odder in English lond.

Aife thou's keep a mundring man­dring, mon, i'se gang to Edinborow. The Deill lead your army for Brun, aies no medle, Adieu, adieu.

Ah Brun! Blerawhee, blerawhee.

Ah Brun, Brun! Shulecrogh, fether vilt thou, fether vilt thou?

VVhat yaw doing mon to call Brun back; and you be sules, I'le stay no lenger.

Ah Brun, Brun! shall be Captain, by all te green Sheese in the Moon. Brun shall be Captain for Caradock, if her would not give place to Brun▪ her heart were as hard as F [...]int-shire.

Brun sall be te besht in te company, if tere were a tousand tousand of 'um.

Cats plutter a nailes, Higgen shall be Captain for her Ears; yet Caradock will be valiant in spight of her Teeth.

Ho brave Captain Higgen!

Higgen, a Higgen, a Higgen.

O disparashment to her reputa­tion! Brutus hish Coshen look the whing. Think you her will flee away. Her will stand to it tooth and naile, while there be skin and bones in her pelly.

Let the Army gang to the Deill. Aies no medle.

Stay tere man, vat to [...] doe Brun?

St. Andrew, St. Andrew.

St. Taffie, St. Taffie.

St. George, St. George.

St. Patrick, St. Patrick.

[Page 23]

Caradock disgrash her Petticree? No, by St. Prutus bones; her will fight till her stand, while tere be legs in her beels. If her pe killed, her will not run away.

Aies gar away? Aies not budge a foot by St. Andrew.

Termock disgrash hish fadders and mudders? Termock will stand while tere be breath in his breech.

Act. 3. Scaen. 2.

Higgen, Scandebeg, Tamberlain, grand Captain Higgen.

Souldiers shift for your selves. VVe are all routed.

Is this you would not disgrace your noble Progeny?

My Ancestors were all footmen. Run­ning away will not disgrace my Progeny.

O disgrash to peat St. Taffie's coshen! Use the true Pritti [...]h no petter?

Caradock, will you and your Lice disgrash her Progeny? The Vermin of He­ctor and Troilus would not do so for all A­chilles Myrmidons.

Her do follow her petticree from head to foot: Her Grandsire En [...]as ran a­way before.

Marry ill tide thee mon, use a mon of our Nation no better.

Generous Brun, I thought you would not have budg'd a foot by St. Andrew.

VVill Termock too disgrash his Fad­der and Mudders?

Termock runs for te credit of his heels to look the Reshiment of foot.

Act. 3. Scaen. 3.

So now you see Carion for his valour may compare with Don Quixot or the mirror of chiva [...]ry. Come, come along you old for­tunate Rascals, you that in the dayes of Queen Richard fed upon nothing but barly­broth and puddings, you shall be rich you rogues all of you, feed hard at the Councel­table.

How daintily wilt thou become a scarlet Gown, when such poore snakes as I shall come with Cap and Knee, How does your good Lordship? Did your Honour sleep well to night? How does Madam Kate and Ma­dam Ciss, have their Honours any morning­milk-cheefe to sell? Will it please your Lordship to command your servant to be drunk in your honours-wine-seller? Your Honours in all duties, and so J kisse your Ho­nours hand.

Thou shalt kisse my Honours taile. Then will I again say, Fellow, how does thy honorable Lord? tell him he does not con­generate from the noble family he comes of: I would have some confabilitation with him concerning a hundred of his Lordships pitch­forks. But I am going to the Bench, and with the Committee to firk up the proud Priests before us, and humble the Country. Tell him Madam Kate is as sound as a Kettle: thou shouldst have concourst with her Ladiship, but she is skimming her Milk-bowls, and melting her dripping-pans as busie as a body­louse. Now fellow go into my wine-cellar to play on my sack-buts, and take no care for finding the way out again. But sirrah, see you drink my Honours health: your see I can tell what belongs to Lordships, and what is more to good manners. But what's the newes a­broad, my honest Coranto stilo novo sub [...].

I know not what to say, but that my [Page 24] master is Emperor of Constantinople, a second Tamberlain; we shall have nothing but glary Beefe and Bajazers in every Cup-board. Plutus has left stumbling; the puppy is nine dayes old, and can see perfectly. Gra­mercy Esculapius! tis pitty but thou shouldst have a better beard then Apollo thy father. O Esculapius, the very Pultise of Surgeons, and Urinal of Physitians!

Vaith neighbours, then let us make bone-fires: this newes is as sweet as Zugar­zopps.

clatter-de-pouch, clatterde—&c.

J will not be found at Sellengers round, although thou do call me a slouch. Banks's horse cannot prance a merrier dance Then rumbling and jumbling a clatter-de­pouch, clatterde &c.

Then rumbling &c.

Here's rumbling and jumbling in­deed. I was spinning my daughter a new smock, and they keep such a noise I cannot sleep for um. Passion o' my heart, I wonder what news there is abroad, and why that knave Carion makes no more haste home.

Now will I be an Emperor, and con­temn my Mistresse

Cari what news Carion?

I cannot answer them to day, com­mand the Embassadors to attend our will to morrow.

Why Carion, I say!

Go give him my gold-chain and pretious jewel.

What are you mad?

Sirra, do you know your self?

Suppose I lend some twenty thousand millions.

Some twenty thousand puddi [...]gs.

And send two hundred saile to con­quer Spain, and Rupert too, and fright the Inquisition

Out of their wits—

If any be out more then thou, Ile be hanged.

Take that for your Haberdashers­hall, or Isle of Tripoly.

Traitors; my guard! where are my Beef-eaters? O my old Mrs. was it you? why, are you not drunk with mirth? I was in good hope ere this to have seen you reel­ing in a French hood. VVell, have at your old petticoat. Madam, I have news will ravish you, my dainty Madam; a bushel of unmea­surable joy.

Then prethee tell thy comfortable message; and if it tickle me in the telling, I will give thee a pair of high-shooes more then thy quarters wages.

Listen then while I anatomise my whole discourse from the head to the heel.

Nay good Carion, not to the heel.

But I will, though your heel were a Polonian, or a French heel, which is the fashion.

Nay do not molest me, Carion. I am [Page 25] very squeamish, and may chance have a qualm come over my stomack.

Then I begin. First we came to the god leading Plutus, then most miserable, but now as happy as Fortunatus his Night-cap. First we made him a Dipper, we duckt him over head and ears in water, we made him [...]n Anabaptist.

Alas poor soul, 'twas enough to have put him into an ague: one would not have used a Water-spaniel more unmercifully.

No, nor a curst quean in a cucking­ [...]ool, Mrs. You see what creatures these dip­pers are. J warrant when the young Lasles were a dipping, the blind Rogue could see that well enough. Well, Mrs. coming to the Temple of Esculapius, where all the altars stood furnisht with reaking pasties and [...]ot pippin-pies, O 'twas such sweet religion, my mouth watered at it. Just upon the hearth they were beathing a great black-pudding, to stay the gods stomack till breakfast. Here we laid Plutus in a cradle and rockt him a­sleep.

O the folly of such Simpletons, lay [...]n old man in a cradle!

And why not? is he not a child the second time? Next, every man made his own bed: the liberal god allowed us fresh pease­straw.

And was there no more lame and impudent creatuers at this Spittle-house?

Of all sorts, mistresse. There was a young heire newly crept out his wardship, that had been sick of a young Lady three years and upwards.

Just as I am of Chremylus. Sirra, seeing you are of good parts and properties, you may presume to come sometimes into my bed-chamber.

No mistresse, the Dary-maid shall serve my turn. Next was a pretty waiting­gentlewoman, that with dreaming of her Lord, was fallen into a terrible Green­sicknesse.

Now by my holidame, J could have cured that my self; if she be troubled with the maidenhead-grief, J can give her as quick deliverance as any Esculapius in Europe.

Many Lawyers were troubled with the itch in their fingers; many young Heires in a consumption; burst Citizens so over­swell'd with interest-mony, that they were in danger of breaking; many Treasurers, Sequestrators and Receivers came for help, for they had received so much monies, that they had lost their eye-sight, and could not see to make accounts: there were Townsmen came to have their brow-antlets knockt off, Presbyt [...]ians for the Directory, Cavies for the Service-book; some Tradesmen and Scholers, that had long fed upon costive Usurers, being much bound, came to the Temple to be made solluble.

Nay, if he be so good at it, Ile go and see if he can cure me of my corns; they vexe me so wonderfully, J cannot sleep for um.

Marry Iove forbid, mistresse! should your corns be cured, how should my master do for an Almanack to foretell the weather? Pond, Booker, Allestree, Ieffry Neve Gent. nay nor Merlinus Anglicus, are not half so good Astronomers as your Ladiships pro­phetique toes.

Masse if it be so, J shall save him two pence a year, rather then put him to the charges of an Alman [...]ck. But was there any more?

Yes there were many Country-lobs, that having surfeited on the glory-bacon of their Milk-maids favours, were fain to repair to the next Alehouse for purgations. Deaf Scriveners came for their cares; Silenc'd Ministers to be cured of dumbnesse; many Scholers of Colledges, whose gowns having been sick divers years of the scu [...]f, desired the god to do them the grace as to change the colour of that disease into the black-jaundies.

And did he cure them all?

All but Neoclides; a blind fellow, and yet such an arrant thief, that he sto [...]e all things he set his eyes on. To proceed: the Monk put out the [...]allow-tapers, bid us sleep, and whatsoever hissing we heard, to see and say nothing. There we slept soundly, and in the honour of Esculapius snorted most de­voutly. Marry J could not sleep: for there was an old woman with a pitcher of pease­porredge [Page 26] at her head lay next to me. Now I had a great zeal to devoure the delicious pil­low: but putting forth my hand, I espi [...]d the bald Friar eating the religious cakes, and cracking of the consecrated nuts. So I think­ing it a peece of divine charity, studied how to cheat the old Beldame.

O sacrilegious Varlet! wert not a­fraid of the god?

Yes, lest he might cosen me of my pease-porredge. The woman perceiving me put forth her hand: then I fell a hissing like a Winchester-goose on S. Georges dragon; the woman snatcht back her fangs, and for very fear smelt like the perfume of a Polecat: in the interim I supt up the porredge; and my belly being full, I laid my bones to rest.

Aud did not the god come yet?

O mistresse, now comes the jest: when the god came neer me, my devotions a posteriori sent him forth most ridiculous orisons; the Pease-broth in me was so windy that I thought I had an Aeolus in my belly; my guts wambled, and on the sudden evapo­rated a clap or two of most unmanerly thun­der, the very noise of it broke all the Urinals in the Spittle-house, and saved Esculapius the labour of casting Iupiters water; it fright­ed his poor Apothecary out of his wits, as he was making Saturn a glister [...] and for the smell, Penacea▪ told her father that she was sure it could not be frankincense.

Yes, but was not the god angry that you kept your backside no closer?

Who he! 'Tis such a nasty Numen, he would be glad if your close-stool were his alms-tub, that he might feed upon your meat at second hand.

Nay, but leave your windy discourse, and proceed with your tale.

At length two snakes appeared, and lickt Plutus eyes: then Aesculapius beating Aigus his head in a mortar, tempered it with a look beyond Luther, well minced with the rosted apple of his eye: the whole confection boil'd in a pint of christalline humour, which being dropt into his eye with the feather of a peacocks tail, he recovered his sight in the twinkling of an eye.

But how came the god of wealth blind?

How! Because Honesty is like a Puck-fist; he never met it but once, and it put out his eyes: besides, the rich Rogue had too many Pearls in his eyes.

And what are we the better now his eye-sight is restored?

Why thus: None but honest people shall grow rich now; there's the wonder: my master Chremylus shall be an Earl, and you from the Cream-pot of Rusticity shall be churn'd into the honourable Butter of a Countesse.

Nay, they were wont to call me Countesse before: and I shall do well enough for a Countesse, I warrant you. I thank my stars, I can spin as fine a thred for woollen, as any Countesse in England. Well Carion, now I am a Countesse, Mrs. Ficar shall not sit above me in the Church; I will have as fine a stammel-Petticoat and rich Stomacher as the proudest of them all. Pi [...]thee Carion go to the Goldsmith, buy me a ring, and see it be well enamour'd.

You would say enamell'd. But Mrs. what will you do now?

I will go in to present the gods new Eyes with a basket of Pippins and a dozen of Churchwardens.

Marry gods blessing oth' thy soule! Now a hundred good morrows to thy eyes. I have brought the a dish of Pearmains and Pippins, with a dish of Lordings and Lady­apples, and some of our country fruit, half a score of Russetings.

Marry and muff! I can be as stout as you if J please. Do you scorn my kindenesse?

Nay, 'tis e'en true, the good old Gentleman speaks very wisely; you may be­lieve him, if you please. I'le be sworn, this morning, the Lay- Clergie, while they were a preaching at Bell-ally in Colemanstreet, I came by with my basket; the hungry Ras­cals in pure zeal had like to eat up my Gin­ger-bread, had there not been Popish pi­ctures upon it; I had much adoe to keep them from scrambling my Apples too, had not the sets of my old Ruffe lookt like so ma­ny Organ-Pipes and frighted them. But [Page 28] faith rake-hels, (and you mend not your manners) [...] complain to Mr. Goodwin and the 'mittees too. Come in good Gentle­man, though I have never a tooth in my head, yet i'le crack Nuts with my Gumms but ile bear thee company.

Scaen. 1.

To be rich is the daintiest pleasure in the world; especially, to grow rich without ventring the danger of Tiburn or Whipping. Every Cupbord is full of Custards, the Hogs­heads replenished with sparkling Sacks. The veriest Gippo in the house will not drink a degree under Muscadine. All the Porredge­pots are arrant Barbary gold. All the Vessels in the house, from the Bason and Ewer to the Chamber-pot and Vinegar-bottle, are of Middletons silver. The Kitchen and Buttery is entire Ivory, the very purity of the Ele­phants tooth. The Sinke is paved with the rich Rubies, and incomparable Carbuncles of Sir Iohn Oldcastle's Nose. The Conduit runs as good Rose-water as any is in Ari­stotles Well. The Dish-clouts are cloath of Tissue, and from the skirts of every Scullion drop melting streames of Amber grease. We the poor servants play at Even and Odd with arch-angels, and at Crosse and Pile for Ja­cobusses, in a humour, to out Philip the King of Spain. My Master is sacrificing a Sow, a Goat, and a Ram for joy; But J could not endure the house, there is such a smoak from the reaking of the roast, that though it please my stomack, my eyes are offended with it.

Say Brother, who are you, whose righteous Shoes conduct you hither?

Say Brother, may a Taylor be a Par­son?

What, your shooes come for Conse­cration?

Garret Ostle-bridge was down, welladay, welladay.

J tell thee out of zeal to th' Cause thou lyest.

Nevergood, J know was alwayes fierce

So sir, you dare not fight.

VVhat doest thou smel?

J say, J smell some Cavaliers Roast­beef.

Answer to me.

VVhat, to those narrow Breeches?

VVhat will you Catechise me?

Art thou a Farmer?

Art thou a Merchant?

Poor souls, they have very hard words for their money.

Vile Rascal, hast thou no other shift?

[Page 33]

Let Dr. Faustus do his worst. Let me see if this Termagant can help you to your Clothes again.

But stay, what worm-eaten Hag is this? Holy brother, let's away to Bo-peep, we shall be seen else. Do you not perceive that old Beldame of Lapland, that looks as if she had sail'd thither in an egg-shell, with a wind in the corner of her handkercher? I am not so much afraid of Dr. Faustus, as of that witch of Endor.

Act. 4. Scaen. 3.

Hey ho! methinks I am sick with lying alone last night. Well, I will scratch out the eyes of this same rascally Plutus god of wealth, that has undone me. Alas poor woman! since the shop of Plutus his eyes has been open, what abundance of misery has befallen thee! Now the young Gallant will no longer kisse thee nor imbrace thee: but thou poor widow must lie comfortlesse in a solitary pair of sheets, having nothing to cover thee but the lecherous Rug and the bawdy Blankets. O that J were young again! how it comforts me to remember the death of my maidenhead! Alas poor woman, they contemn old age, as if our lechery was out of date. They say we are cold: methinks that thought should make um take compassion of us, and lie with us, if not for love, for charity. They say we are dry: so much the more ca­pable of Cupids fire; while young wenches, like green wood, smoke before they flame. They say we are old: why then experience makes us more expert. They tell us our lips are wrinkled: why that in kissing makes the sweeter titillation. They sweare we have no teeth: why then they need not fear biting. VVell, if our lease of Lechery be out, yet me­thinks we might purchase a Night-labourer for his dayes-wages. I will be reveng'd of this same Plutus, that wrongs the orphans, and is so uncharitable to the widows. Ho, ho, who's within here!

VVho's there?

A maid against her will this fourscore years. Goddy-godden, good father: pray which is the house where Plutus lives?

Ma [...]ry follow your nose, you may smell out the door, my little damsel of fifteen, [Page 34] but fifteen times over. In my pinion, this young Lasse would make a pretty Maid­mairian in a Comedy to be presented before Plutus.

Now god save all. By your leave sweet Grandsire! J will call forth some of the house.

VVhat need that? cannot J serve the turn?

No marry can you not. Nay, as old as J am, J will not bestow my widows maiden­head at second hand on such a frosty Nestor. J will have March or April; J scorn to com­mit fornication with December.

Nay good Autunme, do not mis­conceive me: J askt if J could not bear in your errand or no. But J see master Chremylus coming.

Alas good sir! J have endured the most unjust and unsufferable injuries, since Plutus has regained his eye-sight, as ever poor woman did since the dayes of Queen Edmund. Alas sir, life is not life without natural recreation.

How's this? some Promooter of the feminine gender!

No by my chastity, but an honest matron of Turn-bull, that have paid scot and lot there these fourscore yeers, yet never was so abused as now.

What abuse?

Unsufferable abuse, intolerable in­juries.

Speak, what injuries?

An injury unspeakable.

VVhat is it?

Alas sir, tis lying alone. O the mi­sery of lying alone! would J had been below ground ere J had seen this minute of adver­sity. Ah Turnbul-Grove, shall J never more be beholding to thy charitable shades! Ah 'twas a good world when the Nuneries stood: Oh their charitable thoughts that took so much compassion on poor women, to found such zealous bawdy-houses! Had not Crom­wel been an Eunuch, he had never perswa­ded the destruction of such places set up for such uses. 'Twas a good world too in the dayes of Queen Mary: a poor woman might have desired a kindnesse from a lusty Friar in auricular confession. But Plutus eyes are like Basilis [...]s, they strike us dead with ad­versity.

VVhat ails this Skin-ful of Lechery? alas poor Granam, dost thou grieve because thou wantest money to go drink with thy gossips!

Ah do not mock me sir: 'tis love, parlous love that has so enflamed my heart with Bavins of desire, that J am afraid he will make me the very bone-fire of affection.

VVhat meant the knavish Cupid to set this old Chark-coal on fire?

Ile tell you sir: there was a young Gallant about the town, one Neanias.

J know him.

He being a younger brother, had no lands in taile-tenure, but City-widows. He was but poor; but as fine a well-favour'd Gentleman, it did me good at heart to look on him. J ministred those things he wanted; and he recompenced my kindnesse in mutual love: as I supplied his wants, so he succored my necessities with all possible activity: I would not have changed him for Stamford, though he jump'd the best in London.

And what did this pretty Pimp usu­ally beg of you?

Not much: for he reverenced me wonderfully, partly for love, but more fo [...] venerable antiquity. Sometime he would beg a Cloak.

To cover his knavery.

Sometimes a pair of Boots.

To exercise his horsmanship.

Sometimes a Peck or two of Corn.

For which he paid a bushel of affe­ction.

Now and then a Kittle for his sister, a Petticoat and French-hood for his mother. Not much: all the good turns I did him in the day, the conscionable Youth requited ere midnight.

This was nothing indeed: it seems he did reverence you, (as you say) partly for [Page 35] love, but more for your venerable antiquity.

Nay, he would tell me too, that he did not ask these things for his mid-night wages, but only in love. He would not endure to wear any thing, but what I paid for, out of a mee [...] desire to remember me.

This was infinite affection! Could he not endure to wear anything but what you paid for? 'Twas dear love this, pretty love tricks 'faith; you may see, how the wanton youth was enflamed with your beauty.

I but now, the unconstant Wag has not the same measure of respect; I sent him a Custard yesterday, and he would not accept of it, because it quaked like my worm-eaten—. I sent him other sweetmeats too, but he return'd me answer, that certainly J had breath'd on them, for they smelt of my Gums. Moreover, he bid me despaire of a night­labourer, and never more expect him at mid­night again. For Plutus has made him rich without me; adding withall, That once J was young: Ostend was once a pretty town. The Milesians in the dayes of yore were valiant: and in the dayes of King Henry the English were sturdy fellows at the battell of Agin-Court.

Faith, J commend the stripling for his wit. Tis none of the worst conditions. Now he is rich, he will have the best and plumpest Cockatrice of the City; when he was poore he was content with Porredge. There be many of that profession, that main­tain themselves by hugging the skin and bones of an Aldermans widow.

I, but earst, he would have come eve­ryday to my door.

Perchance a begging.

No, onely to hear the melody of my voice.

Like enough, Jt could not choose but please him to hear what excellent Musick your Jews-trump could make, now all your teeth are out.

If he had but seen me sad and melan­cholly, he would have kissed me with such a feeling of my sorrow, and have call'd me his Chuck and Helena.

'Twas onely to have one of Leda's Egs to his Supper.

How oft has he prais'd my fingers?

Twas when he lookt for something at your hands.

Many a time has he sworn that my skin smelt sweeter then a Musk-cat.

He meant a Po [...]e-cat: did you not believe him? Twas when his Nose first smelt of Hippocrasse, or else the perfume of your white-leather was so strong, he could not en­dure it.

O how it comforts me to remember how he would call my eyes pretty sparkling ones.

Twas cause they pinckt like the snuff of a Candle. Faith the Gentleman had his wits about him: he knew how to get the old wives provision, the Viaticum she had pre­pared to carry her to Gravesend.

Therefore, my friend, Plutus is to blame to promise relief, when he does us such intolerable damages. How do you think J can endure to lie alone, when so many sprights are walking? How shall J keep off the Night­mare, or defend my self against the tempta­tions of an Incubus.

Alas good Relique of antiquity! pay thy Fine and take a new Lease of Lust. Faith J pitty thee; what would'st thou have him do if he were here?

Marry, that since J have deserved so well of him, that he doe me one kindenesse for another. Good old Gentlemen, either let him restore me my goods, or stand to his bar­gain. The Conditions not performed, the Obligation is of none effect: my Lawyer re­solves me, J may recover of him.

Noverint universi per praesentes, your Lawyer is a Coxcomb. Did he not doe his duty every night? J warrant you, he had as lieve have tugged at an Oare as a—. In my minde, he has performed his part of the Obligation.

But he promised never to forsake me as long as J lived.

No more he has not; why? thou art now dead: Thy flesh is mortified, onely thy impotent lust has outlived thee a twelve moneth or two. Thou art but a meer Car­kasse, nothing but Worms-meat.

Indeed grief has almost me't [...]d me [Page 36] into dust and ashes. Half-putrified J walk up and down like the picture of Deaths-head in a charnel-house. But see yonder's my Game­ster, my Cock oth' game: he's marching to some banquet or other: 'tis Sh [...]ove-Tuesday with him, but Lent with me. O grief, to be bound from flesh!

It seems he is going to a feast, by his torch and garland.

What sayes my Duck; wouldst have me go to bed?

So sir: J was not gray when J gave you my Smock off my back to make you Night-caps. You swore J could not be above fifteen, when I translated my Stammel-Petticoat into the masculine gender, to make your Worship a paire of Scarlet­breeches.

Now fie upon him! How long do you say? 'Tis no longer then yesterday, by the faith of a woman, since he had the fruition of me, and swore J was as young as He­cuba.

Then it is not with him as it is with others: for being drunk, he hath the use of his eyes more perfect then when he was sober.

No, the peevish fellow, now he is drunk, he sees double, and thinks me twice as old as J am.

O fire, fire! shall I die no better a death then the top of Pauls-steeple?

Nay take heed how you set your torch too neer her; One spark will set her a flaming, for she is made up of Salt-petre, very gun-powder well dried & ready pruned, mee [...] touch-wood, and as dry as any tavern­bush.

Now blessing on thy heart! VVhat play shall we play, that which we plaid at t'other night?

Here, take these Nuts.

Alas my hony, I am past cracking.

They are to play with.

VVhat play?

Even or odde, guesse you.

VVhat shall I guesse?

How many teeth there be in thy head.

Ile guesse for her; perchance three or foure.

[Page]

Well sir, you may abuse me: but by Cock and Pye, (god forgive me that I should swear) were I as young as I have been, these nailes that by a good token have not been pared since eighty eight, should have scratcht your face till it had been a dominical one, and as full of red letters as any Ponds Almanack in Christendome, 'twere suitable to your prognosticating Nose. J think you are mad; would any but an O [...]lando or Ie­ronymo have used a poor woman so? Do you think I will endure to be your bucking-tub to be washt with the dregs of your wit▪

He did you a courtesie, that would wash you soundly.

No prethee do not think so, J sweare by Venus J would have none but thee, though P [...]gasus and Buccphalus came a wooing to me.

Nay by Hecate you shall not put a trick on me thus. J have not out-lived my wits: J were mad if J would run my self in­to another Scylla, having such a dangerous Charybdis of my own at home. Good Mr. Neanias, J did not think she had been your mistresse: J will not for all the world do you such a wrong as to be your Corrival: love her alone for me.

Faith and thou shalt my little peri­winckle.

Yet she accuses you.

You mocked her, she sayes, you told her, The Milesians were valiant in the daies of yore. Faith do not hit her in the teeth with contumelious proverbs.

Pray good sir.

J know your meaning, you are wea­ry of your stale Whore, you deale with her even as they doe with horses, when they are no longer fit for the Saddle, turn them over to the Carmen.

J will not live with any but with thee.

Nay, since you have drunk of the Wine, you must be content with the Lees.

Jle go in too, J have some businesse with Plutus.

But now J think on't, J will not go in.

Come young man, be of good cou­rage, she cannot ravish thee.

J believe that too.

Go in, Jle follow thee ith' heels, J war­rant thee.

She sticks to him as close as a Cockle.

Scaen. 1.

Who's this that knocks, the doore so hard! what, no body? Can they walk invi­sible? Ile lay my life this is a peece of St. Dunstans ghost that puls me by the Nose so? Good ghost mistake me not, J am not the Devil, J am honest Carion every inch on me. Well, I see the doores can cry for nothing, I see no body, Ile go in again.

So ho, ho, ho, Carion, Carion, Carion stay, I say stay.

Stay let my Nose alone, 'twill abide no jeasting; Sir, was it you, that was so sawcy [Page 04] with my masters doors to knock them so pe­remptorily? they shall bring an action of battery against you.

If you had not come quickly, I would have broke them open. Go run, call forth your master and mistresse, the men and the maids, your self, the Dog and the Bitch, the Cat and the Kitlins, the Sow and the Pigs.

My master and mistress, the bastards their children, the men and the maids, my self, the Dog and the Bitch, the C [...]t and Kitlins I will call forth: but the Sow and Pigs would desire you to have them excused, they are not at leasure. VVhy what's the matter?

VVhy Iupiter will put you all into a sack together, and tosse you into Barathrum, [...]errible Barathrum.

Barathrum, what's Barathrum?

VVhy Barathrum is Pluto's bog­gards: you must be all thrown into Bara­thrum.

I had rather the messenger were you know what. Mercury, why what wrong have we done Iupiter? I remember he has many a time sowr'd our drink with his thundring, but we have done him no injury, but once I broke his shins at football in Tut [...]le.

Nay now I see thou hast some wit in thy Pericranium.

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Come faith, since Thieving is out of fashi­ [...], (Doest remember when thou stolest Apollo's Spectacles and Vulcans Crutches▪) learn to beg. Suppose I am a rich Gentle­man, and thou a lame fellow; perchance I may be in the humour to give thee some­thing.

Kinde Gentleman, for the Loords sake bestow something on a poor lame Crip­ple, that has halted before his best friends upward and downward, any time this dozen years: this leg, ile stand to it, has been lame ever since the last dearth of corn, god be with it. heaven preserve your limbs, Iove keep your feet out oth' setters, your legs out oth' stocks, your heads out ot'h pillory, your necks out oth' halters, and other such infirmiti [...]s poor mortality is subject to. May you never know what 'tis to want till you are in poverty. Good Gentlemen, take compastion on a wretched mortal, that has been troubled with a deadnesse in his arms, that he has not had the lawfull use of his hands in picking and stealing this many houres.

Sirra, sirra, you must have the lash; Ile have you whipt for a vagiant person.

This is a Justice of Peace's charity: if this be that you'd be in the humour to give, [...]ray keep it to your self.

Faith act a poor Souldier: men are charitable to men of arms.

A word with you generous sir. Noble sir, thou seemest to be a man of worship, and J am one that have seen the face of the ene­my in my dayes, and ventred a bloody nose in defence of my country. Good sir, lend me a Crown till the next taking of Basing-house, and by all the cold iron about me, you shall be presently paid upon the surrender. Noble Gentleman, do not make known my ne­cessities; I would have scorn'd to have askt such a kindnesse of Hopton or Montrosse; I had rather have starved in the leaguer, and fed upon nothing but sword and buckler; and yet Hopton is a noble fellow, many a timber­peece have J spent in his company.

What service hast thou been in?

Hot service sir, supping at the very mouth of the Martial porredge-pot, J have scall'd my lips with kissing valour. Did you never hear how J routed a Regiment of Or­monds Foot?

Never sir, how J pray?

Sir, by this good sword if it be not true, J am an arrant liar, and never saw the wars in my life. Sir, J advanced my spear, ran with a furious tilt at them, and unhorsed every man.

Of the Regiment of Foot.

You are in the right sir, 'twas by a metaphor. Then sir the Ensigns of my repu­tation being displaied; a valiant French­man, he was born at Madrid in Spain—

By a metaphor.

Challeng'd me the duel at Back­sword: we met at the first thrust of the Rapier.

By a metaphor.

He shot me clean through the body.

By a metaphor still, the Rapier shot you through.

On my cr [...]dit sir, 'twas a musket­bullet: for when the Fort saw me have the best on't, they levell'd a Canon at me ready charged.

By a metaphor, with a musket-bullet.

And shot off both my arms. That being done, J caught him by the throat with my right hand.

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When your arms were off.

Drew out my weapon with my left, and cut off his head. J was proceeding to have run him thorow, but he askt my pardon, and I was mercifull and saved his life.

When his head was off.

You will not believe me now, if the self same man be as live as J. Prince Rup [...]rt knows what service I did at Marston-moore when J run away. But now to be contemned! O Poverty, foe to Valour!

Thy valour? Thou look'st as if thou hadst no stomack at all.

Would J had a roasted Oxe to en­counter with. J have shewed my valour in Bohemia against the Imperialists, in Poland against the Turks, in Holland against the Spaniards, in Utopia against the roundheads, and is it questioned in England? J was once a fresh-water souldier, but J was seasoned at the salt Isle of Ree: there was my master­piece of valour.

What was that J pray?

Why sir, J fought couragiously; J was in all the dangerous services, and had misfortunes in all. First sir, J was drowned in the landing, had both my Legs shot off in the assault, and ran away in the retreat as all the rest did.

How? when your Legs were shot off in the assault?

VVhat of that? have J not VVings on my Doublet?

VVhy the [...], you did not run, you did but flie.

Flying is running away by a Me­taphore.

Come thou wilt get nothing by this lying warfare. Let me try the Gipsie.

VVell, thou art an arrant Gipsie: at what neighbours house didst thou learn this? S'foot, how camest thou to know it? I had just threescore and one indeed. VVell, I will give thee something: But O Mercury, my Purse! I'lutus his blessing is run out of my Pockets. I will have you hanged, you rogue. There were seven thirteen-pence-half-penies, would have paid the Hang-man for above half a dozen of you. Good Mercury, thou shalt so [...] what Ile doe for thee.

VVell, if you will entertain me into your family, there's your Purse again, and take heed how you meet with Gipsies.

Entertain thee? VVhy, what canst thou doe?

VVhy, let me be your Porter. [...] have a Ianus heart, though not two faces.

A Porter! canst thou grumble sound­ly at a rich mans gate to keep out the poore Almsmen? canst thou bark like grisly C [...]r­berus? No, 'twill not do, my Master needs no surley Bandogs, we shall keep open house. The office of Porter is thrust out of doores.

Make me your Merchant.

VVee dare not: Get you to the streights of Gibraltar, we need no busie Fa­ctors, we have wealth enough: we will have no Merchants, we shall not sleep for them at nights, They will dream of nothing but new America's, drink the Canaries, snort out Ter­ra Incognita's, nose the Bermudas, ravish Virginia, talk of the fortunate Islands, or choke us up with Terra del Fogo's. No, no, I will have none of our family walk like the Antipodes with his heels upwards; if he should fall headlong into heaven, he might put out the Man in the moon's candle, and leave him to finde his way to bed in the dark.

Let me be your Foole to make you merry.

A Fool! Let me see: we are all rich, and therefore likely we must have some fools amongst us. But what need that, we have as [Page 43] good, we have some of them that fortune favours.

Then let me be your Jugler.

Not for Zorobabels night-cap. These Hocus-Pocusses seldome come aloft for their masters advantage. You think to pick our pockets by sleight of hand, and shew us a trick for our mony: J do not like these feats of activity; therefore Presto be gone, we will have no Juglers.

Then let me be your Poet: J'le make you Shewes and Masques, Comedies and Tragedies, Pastorals, Piscatorial Sonnets, Canto's, Madrigals and Ballads, till you are so tickled with laughter, that you cannot stand.

A Poet! no, 'tis a little too beggerly a trade; and 'tis a soloecisme if wit should meet with wealth in these dayes. Fie upon't, I can't endure jestings, Poetical furies, J had as lieve they should break wind back­ward. Your rank wits will abuse their betters. And for showes, rascally showes, 'tis pitty they are not hang'd for their impudence: There cannot be a grosse sin in a Congregation, but some mens vinegar-brains must be a rubbing of it. J warrant if J should but marry a Towns­mans daughter to day, they'd make an Actae­on of me by to morrow, dub me Knight of the forked Order. Poor shallow scundrels there be that never drank any Helicon above a penny a quart, and yet venture to make Ballads as lousie as themselves. Wry-mouth'd villains, who cannot answer to the question, if they should be asked how many of their empty Noddles go to the making up of a compleat Coxcomb. But yet J do love a show, if it be a merry one. Well, thou shalt be our houshold-Poet, for houshold-Chap­lains are now out of date like old Almanacks; every man can now say grace, and preach, and say prayers to themselves, or (which is better) forget to say any at all. Well, get thee in, prepare things fitting for the sacrifice. If this fellow had not good store of trades, he had missed of all preserment. VVell now, this Poet shall make ballads on all the hypo­c [...]ites of the town, he shall rime all the Ana­baptists out of their wits.

O that Plutus his eyes were scratcht out! J can have no more Fees for Latitats nor Outlawries.

Nay, J am a Lad of metal, of all that but gold and silver, can make no profit of my brasse nor Latine: there's no need of making more holes then one now, and that's a wicked one for my neck to slip into.

My double Toll fails me, O this grinds me to peece [...].

O 'tis the worst stitch that was ever sowed with the needle of misfortune. O iron age, that like the Ostrich makes me feed on my own Goose!

O this false Cordwainer Plutus, that stretches the leather of my flesh on the Tree of fatality; that unmercifully puts me into the Stocks of adversity, and gives me no relief at the Last.

Nay he has made me so slender, that I can measure me by my own Yard, three quarters quarter and half nail. This crosse-leg'd infelicity, sharper then my nee­dle, makes me eat my own Cabbage.

Nothing but a general insurrection like a shooing-horn can draw on help. Let us combine and patch together.

Agreed, agreed.

It is a signe Plutus has lost his eyes, when Dull-pates grow rich: if my name had not been Dull-pate, I had lost half my prefer­ment. It is thought J have as many Ecclesi­astical Livings as Spalato had in England; Never a fat Benefice falls now adayes, but J catch it up; J can have 'um now without lustful Simony, in taking Bishops kinswomen in [...]o the bargain. J have often wondred how it comes about that my head is so black, but the hairs of my chin gray: A merry fellow once told me, 'twas because I used my chops more then my brains. Tis true indeed, I fare well, because J was born under a rich Con­stellation, [Page 44] but the learned sort under a poor Psanct. As for example, here comes the Pope, Iupiters Vicat.—blesse thy wicked Holinesse! thou, the Devil, Cardinal Richli [...]u, and the French faction at Court, have brought all the wars into England.

VVho can instruct me which is Chremylus house?

O how J thirst!

O I do smel the scent of Pipp [...]n-pies.

I would resigne my right to heaven and hell.

It is an't please your Holinesse.

Remission of sins, whe [...] ere they be.

But what if I have sworn to give thee nothing?

My Holinesse shall give thee abso­lution.

But I did but equivocate when I promised?

Ile free thee from all men [...]all Reser­vation.

VVell then, I have Remission of all my sinnes.

VVith leave and pardon for all sins hereafter.

Tis a Venial sin.

Or kill a King?

Tis meritorious.

Swear then.

I swear and grant it sub Sigillo Pis­catoris.

Again J swear, by this sweet kisse he shall.

Benedixit Esculapius.

Benedixit, &c.

Benedixit, &c.

Benedixit, &c.

Benedixit, &c.

Benedixit, &c.

Act. 5. Scaen. ult.

I came into England but since this Parlia­ment sate, (the plunderers J thank them brought me hither) and J think J have had about 200000. suiters at least: nay, some great men have been ambitious to proffer me their daughters to marry. They indeed be [Page 47] great ones, but J only look after Honesty now J have got my eye-sight. Never did gudg [...]ons at a mill-tail more greedily bite the bait, then some of 'um after me. Had J had th [...] Palsie, Sciatica, Cough, Ague, Feaver, French pox, and a whole cart-load of diseases, (as J have the Gout already, because J am rich) they would have taken me with all my faults. England (J see) is a covetous place. This morning J have received no lesse then forty letters to the same purpose. Above all, one Mrs. Maria Corombona Butto Fuocco woes me; as sure as can be a Venetian [...] bred up in London, an arrant whore. [...] her Letter. A Plauto Gentilhomme d'Inghil­terra de bona gratia, Maria butta suoccae and so forth. A pox take her! J have forty more of them in my pocket. But there is one Mrs. Honesty Cleon, an honest Scriveners daughter, ('tis strange they have any thing to do with Honesty, J warrant she'll not live long) she is the mistresse of my affections, for she is honest. See here she comes.