Vera Effigies Tho: Midletoni Gent:

NO

  • WIT
  • HELP

LIKE A VVOMANS.

A COMEDY, BY Tho, Middleton, Gent.

[figure]

LONDON: Printed for Humphrey Moseley, at the Prince's Arms in St. Pauls Church­yard. 1657.

PROLOGUE.

HOw is't possible to suffice
So many Ears, so many Eyes?
Some in wit, some in shows
Take delight, and some in Clothes;
Some for mirth they chiefly come,
Some for passion, for both some;
Some for lascivious meetings, that's their arrant;
Some to detract, and ignorance their warrant.
How is't possible to please
Opinion tos'd in such wilde Seas!
Yet I doubt not, if Attention
Seize you above, and Apprehension
You below, to take things quickly,
We shall both make you sad, and tickle ye,

The Actors Names.

  • SIr Oliver Twilight, a rich old Knight.
  • Philip his Son, servant to Mistress Grace.
  • Sandfield, friend to Philip, servant to Mistress Jane.
  • Mr. Sunset, true Father of Mistress Grace.
  • Mr. Low-water, a decayed Gentleman.
  • Suitors to the Lady Golden­fleece.
    • Sir Gilbert Lambston
    • Mr. Weatherwise
    • Mr. Pepperton
    • Mr. Overdon
  • Mr. Beveril, Brother to Mistress Low-water:
  • Dutch Merchant.
  • Dutch Boy.
  • Savor-wit, Sir Oliver's man.
  • Footman.
  • Pickadille, Lady Golden-fleeces Fool.
  • Lady Twilight.
  • Lady Golden fleece, a rich Widow.
  • Mistress Low-water.
  • Mistress Grace, Sunsets Daughter, but supposed Twi­lights.
  • Mistress Jane, Twilights Daughter, but supposed Sunsets:

The Scene LONDON.

NO • Wit , and • Help  Like a WOMANS.

Act 1.

Scaen 1.

Enter Philip, Sir Oliver Twilights Son, with Savor­wit his Fathers man.
Phil.

I Am at my wits ends Savor-wit.

Savorw.

And I am ev [...]n follow­ing after you as fast as I can Sir.

Phil.

My wife will be forc'd from me; my plea­sure!

Sav.

Talk no more on't Sir; how can there be any hope i'th' middle, when w'are both at our wits end in the beginning? My invention was nev'r so gra­vel'd since I first set out upon't.

Phil
Nor does my stop stick onely in this wheel▪
Though it be a main vexation, but I'm grated
In a dear absolute Friend, yong Mr. Sandfield.
Sav.

I there's another rub too.

Phil.
Who supposes
That I make love to his affected Mistress,
When 'tis my Father works against the peace
Of both our spirits, and woes unknown to me▪
[Page 6]He strikes out sparks of undeserved anger,
'Bwixt old Steel friendship, and new Stony hate:
As much forgetful of the merry hours,
The circuits of our youth hath spent and worn,
As if they had not been, or we not born.
Sav.

See where he comes.

Enter Sandfield.
Sandf.
Unmerciful in torment!
Will this disease never forsake mine eye?
Phil.
It must be kil'd first, if it grow so painful;
Work it out strongly at one time, that th'anguish
May never more come near thy precious sight.
If my eternal sleep will give thee rest,
Close up mine eyes with opening of my Brest.
Sandf.
I feel thy wrongs at midnight, and the weight
Of thy close Treacheries: Thou hast a friendship
As dangerous as a Strumpets, that will kiss
Men into poverty, distress, and ruine.
And to make clear the face of thy foul deeds,
Thou work'st by Seconds.
Phil.
Then may the sharp point of an inward horror
Strike me to earth, and save thy weapon guiltless.
Sandf.

Not in thy Father?

Phil.

How much is truth abus'd, when 'tis kept silent!

Phil.

O defend me Friendship!

Sav.
True; your anger's in an error all this while, Sir;
But that a Lovers weapon now hears reason,
'Tis out still like a mad mans; hear but me Sir.
'Ts my yong Masters injury, not yours,
That you quarrel with him for; and this shows
[Page 7]As if y'would challenge a lame man the field,
And cut off's head, because he has lost his Legs.
His grief makes him dead flesh, as it appear'd
By offring up his Brest to you; for believe it Sir,
Had he not greater crosses of his own,
Your Hilts could not cross him—
Sandf.

How?

Sav.
Not your Hilts Sir.
Come I must have you friends, a pox of weapons▪
There's a Whore gapes for't; put it up i'th' Scab­bard.
Sandf.

Thou'rt a made slave.

Sav.
Come, give me both your hands,
Y'are in a Quagmire both; should I release you now,
Your wits would both come home in a stinking pickle;
Your Fathers old Nose would smell you out present­ly.
Phil.
Tell him the Secret, which no mortal knows
But thou and I, and then he will confess
How much he wrong'd the patience of his Friend.
Sav.
Then thus the Marigold opens at the splendor
Of a hot constant friendship 'twixt you both:
'Tis not unknown to your ear, some ten years since,
My Mistress his good Mother, with a Daughter
About the age of six, crossing to Jernsey,
Was taken by the Dunkirks, sold both, and separated,
As the last news brings hot, the first and last
So much discover'd; for in nine years space
No certain tidings of their life or death,
Or what place held 'em, Earth, the Sea, or Heaven,
Came to the old mans ears, the Knight my Master,
Till about five moneths since, a Letter came,
Sent from the Mother, which related all
Their taking, selling, separation,
[Page 8]And never meeting; and withal required
Six hundred Crowne for Ransom, which my old Ma­ster
No sooner heard the sound, but told the sum,
Gave him the Gold, and sent us both aboard;
We landing by the way, having a care
To lighten us of our carriage, because Gold
Is such a heavy mettal, eas'd our Pockets
In Wenches Aprons; Women were made to bear,
But for us Gentlemen 'tis most unkindly.
Sandf.

Well Sir.

Phil.

A pure Rogue still!

Sav.
Amongst the rest Sir
'Twas my yong Masters chance there to dote finely
Upon a sweet yong Gentlewoman; but one
That would not sell her honor for the Indies,
Till a Priest struck the bargain, and then half a crown dispatcht it.
To be brief, Wedded her and bedded her,
Brought her home hither to his Fathers house;
And with a fair tale of mine own bringing up,
She passes for his sister that was sold.
Sandf.
Let me not lose my self in wondring at thee;
But how made you your score even for the Mother?
Sav.
Pish, easily, we told him how her Fortunes
Mockt us, as they mockt her; when we were o'th' Sea,
She was o'th' Land; and as report was given,
When we were landed, she was gone to Heaven;
So he believes two lyes one error bred,
The Daughter ransom'd, and the Mother dead.
Sandf.
Let me admire thee, and withal confess
My injuries to friendship.
Phil.
They're all pardon'd:
These are the arms I bore against my friend—
Sav.
[Page 9]
But what's all this to th'present? this dis­course
Leaves you i'th' Bogg still.
Phil.

On good Savorwit.

Sav.
For yet our policy has croft our selves;
For the old Knave my Master, little thinking her
Wife to his Son, but his own daughter still,
Seeks out a match for her.
Phil.
Here I feel the Surgeon
At second dressing
Sav.
And h'as entertain'd
Ev'n for pure need, for fear the Glass should crack
That is already broken, but well soader'd,
A meer Sot for her Suiter, a rank Fox;
One weatherwise, that woes by the Almanack,
Observes the Full and Change; an arrant Moon-Calf.
And yet because the Fool demands no portion
But the bare Down of her Smock, the old fellow
Worne to the bone with a dry courteous Itch,
To save his purse, and yet bestow his childe,
Consents to waste lumps of Almanack stuff
Kned with May Butter.——Now as I have thought on't,
I'll spoil him in the baking.
Sandf.

Prethee, as how Sirrah?

Sav.
I'll give him such a crack in one o'th' sides,
He shall quite run out of my Masters favor▪
Phil.

I should but too much love thee for that—

Sav.
Thus then; to help you both at once, and so good night to you.
After my wit has shipt away the fool,
As he shall part, I'll buz into the ear
Of my old Master, that you Sir, Master Sandfield,
Deerly affect his Daughter, and will take her
With little or no portion; well stood out in't.
[Page 10]Methinks I see him caper at that news,
And in the full cry, Oh! This brought about
And wittily dissembled on both parts;
You to affect his love he to love yours;
I'll so beguile the Father at the marriage,
That each shall have his own, and both being wel­com'd,
And chamber'd in one house; as 'tis his pride
To have his Childrens children got successively
On his Fore-fathers Feather beds, in the day time's
To please the old mans eye sight, you may dally,
And set a kiss on the wrong Lip, no sin in't.
Brothers and sisters do't, Cousins do more:
But pray take heed you be not kin to them,
So in the night time, nothing can deceive you,
Let each know his own work, and there I leave you.
Sandf.

Let me applaud thee.

Phil.
Blest be all thy ends,
That mak'st arm'd enemies, embracing friends.
About it speedily.
Exit.
Sav.
I need no pricking;
I'm of that mettle, so well pac'd, and free,
There's no good riders that use spur to me.
Oh! are you come?
Enter Grace Twilight.
Grace.

Are any comforts coming?

Sav.

I never go without 'em.

Grace.

Thou sport'st joys, that utterance cannot perfect.

Sav.

Hark, are they risen!

Grace.
Yes, long before I left 'em,
And all intend to bring the Widow homeward.
Sav.
Depart then Mistress to avoid suspect,
Our good shall arive time enough at your heart:
[Page 11]Poor fools that ever more take a green Surfet
Of the first-fruits of joys—Let a man but shake the Tree,
How soon they'll hold up their laps to receive com­fort!
The musick that I struck, made her soul dance; Peace—
Enter the Lady Widow Golden-fleece with Sir Gil­bert Lambston, Mr. Pepperton, Mr. Overdon, suiters; after them the two old men, Sir Oliver Twilight, and Mr. Sunset, with their Daughters, Grace Twilight, Jane Sunset.
Here comes the Lady Widow, the late wife
To the deceas'd Sir Avarice Golden-fleece,
Second to none for Usury and Extortion,
As too well it appears on a poor Gentleman,
One Mr. Low-water, from whose estate
He pull'd that Fleece, that makes his Widow weight;
Those are her Suiters now, Sir Gilbert Lambston, Mr. Pepperton, Mr. Overdon.
Wid.

Nay good Sir Oliver Twilight, Mr. Sunset, We'll trouble you no farther.

Suns.

Sir Oliv. No trouble sweet Madam.

Lamb.

We'll see the Widow at home, it shall be our charge that.

Wid.
It shall be so indeed; Thanks good Sir Oli­ver, and to you both,
I am indebted for those curtesies
That will ask me a long time to requite.
Sir Oliver.

Ah, 'tis but your pleasant condition to give it out so Madam!

Wid.
Mistress Grace and Mistress Jane, I wish you both
A fair contented Fortune in your choices,
[Page 12]And that you happen right.
Both.
Thanks to you good Madam:
There's more in that word right then you imagine.
Wid.
I now repent, Girls, a rash oath I took
When you were both Infants, to conceal a Secret.
Grace

What do'st concern good Madam?

Wid.
No, no; since you are both so well, 'tis well enough;
It must not be reveal'd; 'tis now no more
Then like mistaking of one hand for t'other.
A happy time to you both.
Both.

The like to you Madam.

Grace.

I shall long much to have this Riddle open'd?

Jane.
I would you were so kinde to my poor Kinswoman,
And the distressed Gentleman her husband,
Poor Mr. Low-water, who on Ruine leans;
You keep this Secret, as you keep his means▪
Thanks good Sir Oliver Twilight,
Welcome sweet Mr. Pepperton,
Mr. Overdon, welcome.
Exeunt.
Manet Sir Oliver with Savorwit.
Sir Oliv.

And, goes the business well 'twixt those yong lovers?

Sav.
Betwixt your son and Mr. Sunset's daugh­ter
The Line goes even Sir.
Sir Oliv.

Good Lad, I like thee.

Sav.
But Sir, there's no proportion, height, or evenness
Betwixt that Equinoctial and your Daughter.
Sir Oliv.

'Tis true, and I'm right glad on't▪

Sav.
Are you glad Sir?
There's no proportion in't.
Sir Oliv.
I marry am I Sir▪
[Page 13]I can abide no word that ends in Portion;
I'll give her nothing.
Sav.
Say you should not Sir,
As I'll ne'r urge your worship 'gainst your nature;
Is there no Gentleman think you, of worth and cre­dit,
Will open's Bed to warm a naked Maid?
A hundred gallant fellows, and be glad
To be so set a work: Virginity
Is no such cheap Ware, as you make account on,
That it had need with portion be set off;
For that sets off a portion in these days.
Sir Oliv.
Play on, sweet Boy; O I could hear this musick all day long▪
When there's no money to be parted from! strike on, good Lad.
Sav.
Do not wise men and great, often bestow
Ten thousand pound in Jewels that lye by 'em?
If so, what Jewel can lye by a man
More pretious then a Virgin? if none more preti­ous,
Why should the Pillow of a fool be grac'd
With that brave Spirits with dearness have imb ac'd?
And then perhaps ere the third Spring come on,
Sends home your Diamond crack't, the beauty gone.
And more to know her, 'cause you shall not doubt her,
A number of poor Sparks twinckling about her:
Sir Oliv.

Now thou play'st Dowlands Lachrymae to thy Master.

Sav.
But shall I dry your eyes with a merry Jigg now,
And make you look like Sun-shine in a showre?
Sir Oliv.

How, how, my honest Boy, sweet Sa­vorwit!

Sav.

Yong Mr: Sandfield, gallant Mr. Sandfield,

Sir Oliv.
[Page 14]

Ha [...] what of him?

Sav.

Affects your daughter strangely.

Sir Oliv.
Brave Mr. Sandfield! let me hug thy zeal
Unto thy Masters house; Hah Mr. Sandfield!
But he'll expect a portion.
Sav.
Not a whit Sir,
As you may use the matter.
Sir Oliver.
Nay, and the matter fall into my using
The Devil a penny that he gets of me.
Sav.

He lyes at the mercy of your Lock and Key Sir; you may use him as you li [...]t.

Sir Oliv.

Say'st thou me so? is he so far in do­ing?

Sav.

Quite over head and ears Sir; nay more, he means to run mad, and break his Neck off some high Steeple, if he have her not:

Sir Oliv.

Now bless the yong Gentlemans Gri­stles; I hope to be a Grand-father yet by 'em.

Sav.
That may you Sir, to marry a chopping Girl with a plump Buttock,
Will hoist a Fartingal at five years old,
And call a man between eleven and twelve
To take part of a peece of Mutton with her.
Sir Oliv.

Ha pretious Wag! hook him in finely, do.

Sav.

Make clear the way for him first, set the Gull going.

Sir Oliv.

An Ass, an Ass, I'll quickly dash his woo­ing.

Sav.
Why now the clocks go right again; it must be a strange wit
That makes the wheels of youth and age so hit;
The one are dry, worn, rusty, fur'd, and soil'd;
Loves wheels are glib, ever kept clean, and oyl'd.
Exit.
Sir Oliv.
[Page 15]
I cannot chuse but think of this good Fortune,
That gallant Mr. Sandfield!
Enter Weather-wise.
Weath.

Stay, stay, stay!

What comfort gives my Almanack to day?

Luck I beseech thee, good days, evil days, June, July; Speak a good word for me now, and I have her; let me see, the fifth day 'twixt Hawk and Buzzard; the sixth day backward and forward; that was beastly to me, I remember; the seventh day on a slippery pin; the eight day fire and towe; the nineth day, the Market is mar'd, that's long of the Hucksters I war­rant you; but now the tenth day, luck I beseech thee now, before I look into't; the eleventh day, against the hair; a Pox on't, would that hair had been left out; against the hair! that hair will go nigh to choak me; had it been against any thing but that, 'twould not have troubled me, because it lyes cross i'th' way. Well, I'll try the fortune of a good face yet, though my Almanack leave me i'th' Sands.

Sir Oliv.

Such a match too, I could not wish a better!

Weath.

Mass, here he walks! Save you sweet Sir Oliver,—Sir Oliver Twilight.

Sir Oliv.

Oh pray come to me a quarter of a year hence; I have a little business now.

Weath.

How a quarter of a year hence? what shall I come to you in September?

Sir Oliv.

Nor in November neither, good my Friend.

Weath.

Y'are not a mad Knight; you will not let your daughter hang past August, will you? she'll drop down under Tree then: She's no Winter fruit [Page 16] I assure you, if you think to put her in crust after Christmas?

Sir Oliv.
Sir, in a word, depart; my Girl's not for you,
I gave you a drowsie promise in a dream,
But broad awake now, I call't in again.
Have me commended to your wit, farewel Sir.
Weath.

Now the Devil run away with you, and some louzy Fidler with your daughter: May Clarken­well have the first cut of her, and Hounds-ditch pick the Bones. I'll never leave the love of an open heart­ed Widow, for a narrow-ey'd Maid again; go out of the road way like an Ass, to leap over Hedge and Ditch; I'll fall into the beaten path again, and invite the Widow home to a Banquet; let who lift seek out new ways, I'll be at my journeys end before him; My Almanack told me true, how I should fare, Let no man think to speed against the hair.

Exit.
Enter Mistress Low-water.
Mrs Low.
Is there no Saving-means? no help Religious
For a distressed Gentlewoman to live by?
Has Virtue no Revenue? who has all then?
Is the worlds lease from Hell, the Devils Head-land­lord?
Oh how was Conscience the right Heir put by?
Law would not do such an unrighteous deed,
Though with the fall of Angels t'had been feed.
Where are our hopes in banks? was honesty
A yonger sister, without portion left,
No dowry in the Chamber, beside wantonness?
O miserable Orphan! 'twixt two extreams runs there no blessed Mean,
No comfortable strain that I may kiss it?
[Page 17]Must I to whoredom, or to beggery lean,
My minde being sound? is there no way to miss it?
Is't not injustice, that a Widow laughs
And lays her mourning part upon a wife?
That she should have the garment, I the heart;
My wealth her Uncle left her, and me her grief.
Yet stood all miseries in their loathed'st forms
On this hand of me, thick like a fowl mist,
And here the bright enticements of the world,
In clearest colours, flattery, and advancement,
And all the bastard-glories this frame jets in
Horror, nor splendor, shadows fair nor fowl
Should force me shame my husband, wound my soul.
Enter Mistress Jane, Sunsets Daughter.
Couzen, y're welcome; this is kindly done of you
To visit the despis'd▪
Jane.
I hope not so Couze,
The want of means cannot make you despis'd;
Love, not by wealth, but by desert is priz'd.
Mrs Low.

Y'are pleas'd to help it well Couze.

Jane.
I am come to you,
Beside my visitation, to request you
To lay your wit to mine, which is but simple,
And help me to untie a few dark words
Made up in knots, they're of the Widows knitting,
That ties all sure; for my wit has not strength
Nor cunning to unloose 'em.
Mrs Low.
Good! what are they?
Though there be little comfort of my help▪
Jane.
She wish'd Sir Olivers daughter and my self
Good fortune in our choices, and repented her
Of a rash oath she took when we were both Infants,
A secret to cozceal; but since all's well,
She holds it best to keep it unreveal'd.
[Page 18]Now what this is, Heaven knows.
Mrs Low.
Nor can I guess
The course of her whole life, and her dead husbands,
Was ever full of such dishonest riddles,
To keep right heirs from knowledge of their own:
And now I'm put i'th' minde on't, I believe
It was some price of Land or money given
By some departing friend upon their death-bed,
Perhaps to your self; and Sir Olivers daughter
May wrongfully enjoy it, and she hired
(For she was but an hireling in those days)
To keep the injury secret.
Jane.
The most likeliest
That ever you could think on.
Mrs Low.

Is it not?

Jane.
Sure Couze, I think you have untied the knot:
My thoughts lie at more ease, as in all other things,
In this I thank your help, and may you live
To conquer your own troubles, and cross ends,
As your are ready to supply your friends.
Mrs Low.
I thank you for the kinde truth of your heart,
In which I flourish when all means depart:
Sure in that oath of hers there sleeps some wrong
Done to my Kinswoman.
Enter Footman.
Jane.

Who'ld you speak withal?

Footm

The Gentlewoman of this house, forsooth▪

Jane

Whose Footman are you?

Footm.

One Sir Gilbert Lambstons—.

Jane.

Sir Gilbert Lambstons—there my Cousin walks.

Footm.

Thank your good worship.

Mrs Low.
[Page 19]

How now, whence are you?

Footm.

This Letter will make known.

Mrs Low.

Whence comes it Sir?

Footm.

From the Knight my Master, Sir Gilbert Lambston.

Mrs Low.

Return't, I'll receive none on't.

Footm.

There it must lie then; I were as good run to Tyburn afoot, and hang my self at mine own charges, as carry it back again.

Exit.
Mrs Low.
Life, had he not his answer? What strange impudence
Governs in man, when Lust is Lord of him?
Thinks he me mad? cause I have no monies on Earth▪
That I'll go forfeit my estate in Heaven,
And live eternal Beggar? he shall pardon me,
That's my souls joynture, I'll starve ere I sell that.
Oh is he gone, and left the Letter here!
Yet I will read it, more to hate the writer.
Mistress Low▪ water.

IF you desire to understand your own comfort, hear me out, ere you refuse me; I'm in the way now to d ub e the yearly means that first I offered you, and to sti [...] you more to me, I'll empty your enemies Bags to maintain you; for the rich Widow, the Lady Golden-fleece, to whom I have been a longer Suiter, then you a longer ad­versary, hath given me so much encouragement lately, insomuch that I am perfectly assured, the next meeting strikes the bargain: The happiness that follows this, 'twere idle to inform you of, onely consent to my desires, and the Widows Notch shall lie open to you. Thus much to your heart, I know y' [...]e wise, farewel.

Thy Friend to his power, and another's Gilbert Lambston:
In this poor Brief, what Volumes has he thrust,
Of treacherons Purjury, and adulterous Lust!
So foul a Monster does this wrong appear,
That I give pitty to mine enemy here
What a most fearful love raigns in some hearts,
That dare oppose all Judgment to get means,
And wed rich Widows, onely to keep Queans;
What a strange path he takes to my affection,
And thinks't the near'st way; 'twill never be;
Goes through mine enemies ground to come to me.
This Letter is most welcome; I repent now,
That my last anger threw thee at my feet,
My bosom shall receive thee.
Enter Sir Gilbert Lambston.
Lambst
'Tis good policy too,
To keep one that so mortally hates the Widow;
She'll have more care to keep it close her self,
And look what wind her revenge goes withal,
The self-same gale whisks up the sails of love;
I shall lose much good sport by that: Now my sweet Mistress.
Mrs Low.
Sir Gilbert! you change Suiters oft,
You were here in black but lately.
Lambst

My minde ne'r shifts though.

Mrs Low.
A foul mind the whil'st:
But sure Sir, this is but a dissembling Glass
You sent before you; 'tis not possible
Your heart should follow your hand.
Lambst.

Then may both perish.

Mrs Lambst.
Do not wish that so soon Sir; Can you make
A three moneths love to a rich Widows Bed,
And lay her pillow under a Queans head?
I know you can't, how ere you may dissemble't;
[Page 21]You have a heart brought up better.
Lambst.
Faith you wrong me in't,
You shall not finde it so; I do protest to thee,
I will be Lord of all my promises,
And er't be long, thou shalt but turn a key,
And finde 'em in thy coffer; for my love
In matching with the Widow, is but policy
To strengthen my estate, and make me able
To set off all thy kisses with rewards,
That the worst weather our delights behold,
It may hail Pearl, and showre the Widows Gold.
Mrs Low.

You talk of a brave world Sir.

Lambst.
'Twill seem better
When golden happiness breaks forth it self
Out of the vast part of the Widows Chamber.
Mrs Low.

And here it sets.

Lambst.
Here shall the downfal be,
Her wealth shall rise from her, and set in thee.
Mrs Low.
You men have th'art to overcome poor women.
Pray give my thoughts the freedom of one day,
And all the rest take you.
Lambst.

I straight obey; this Bird's my own▪

Exit Sir Gilbert Lambston.
Mrs Low.
There is no happiness but has her sea­son,
Herein the brightness of her vertue shines,
The husk falls off in time that long shuts up
The fruit in a dark prison; so sweeps by
The cloud of miseries from wretches eyes,
That yet, though faln, at length they see to rise,
The secret powers work wondrously, and duly.
[Page 22]Enter Master Low-water.
Mr Low.

Why how now Kate?

Mrs Low.
Oh are you come Sir? Husband,
Wake, wake, and let not patience keep thee poor,
Rouze up thy spirit from this falling slumber;
Make thy distress seem but a weeping dream,
And this the opening morning of thy comforts,
Wipe the Salt dew off from thy careful eyes,
And drink a draught of gladness next thy heart,
T'expel the infection of all poysonous sorrows.
Mr Low.

You turn me past my sences:

Mrs Low.
Will you but second
The purpose I intend, I'll be first forward;
I crave no more of thee but a following spirit;
Will you but grant me that?
Mr Low.
Why, what's the business
That should transport thee thu [...]!
Mrs Low.
Hope of much good, no fear of the least ill;
Take that to comfort thee.
Mr Low.

Yea?

Mrs Low.
Sleep not on't, this is no slumbering business,
'Tis like the sweating sickness; I must keep
Your eyes still wake, y're gone if once you sleep.
Mr Low.

I will not rest then, till thou hast thy wishes.

Mrs Low.

Peruse this love paper as you go.

Mr Low.

A Letter?

Exeunt.
[Page 23]Enter Sir Oliver Twilight, with Mr Sandfield, Philip, and Savorwit.
Sir Oliv.
Good Mr Sandfield, for the great af­fection
You bear toward my Girl, I am well pleas'd
You should enjoy her Beauty; Heaven forbid Sir,
That I should cast away a proper Gentleman,
So far in love with a sowre mood, or so.
No, no, I'll not die guilty of a Lovers Neck-crack­ing.
Marry, as for portion, there I leave you Sir
To the mercy of your destiny again,
I'll have no hand in that.
Sandf
Faith something Sir;
Be't but t'express your love.
Sir Oliv.
I have no desire Sir
To express my love that way, and so rest satisfied;
I pray take heed in urging that too much
You draw not my love from me.
Sandf.

Fates foresee Sir.

Sir Oliv.
Faith then you may go, seek out a high Steeple,
Or a deep water, there's no saving of you.
Sav:

How naturally he plays upon himself!

Sir Oliv.
Marry if a wedding dinner, as I told you,
And three years board, well lodg'd in mine house,
And eating, drinking, and a sleeping portion
May give you satisfaction, I am your man Sir,
Seek out no other.
Sandf.
I am content to embrace it Sir,
Rather then hazard languishment, or ruine.
Sir Oliv.
I love thee for thy wisdom; such a Son in law
[Page 24]Will chear a Fathers heart. Welcome sweet Master Sandfield,
Whether away boys, Philip?
Enter Philip.
Phil.
To visit my Love Sir,
Old Mr. Sunsets Daughter.
Sir Oliv.
That's my Philip,
Ply't hard, my good boys both, put'em to't finely.
One day, one dinner, and one house shall joyn you.
Both.

That's our desire Sir.

Exeunt.
Sir Oliv.
Pish; come hither Savorwit.
Observe my son, and bring me word, sweet boy,
Whether h'as a speeding wit or no in wooing.
Sav.
That will I Sir;—that your own eyes might tell you,
I think it speedy, your Girl has a round belly.
Exit Savorwit.
Sir Oliv.
How soon the comfortable shine of joy
Breaks through a cloud of grief!
The tears that I let fall for my dead wife,
Are dried up with the beams of my Girls fortunes.
Her life, her death, and her ten years distress,
Are e [...]'n forgot with me; the love and care
That I ought her, her daughter shows it all;
I'can but be bestow'd, and there 'tis well.
Enter Servant.
Sir Oliv.

How now, what news?

Serv.
There's a Dutch Merchant Sir, that's now come over,
Desires some conference with you.
Sir Oliv.
How, a Dutch Merchant?
Pray send him into me,—what news with him tro?
[Page 25]Enter Dutch Merchant, with a little Dutch Boy in Great slops.
Dutch Merch.

Sir Oliver Twilight!

Sir Oliv.
That's my name indeed Sir,
I pray be covered Sir, y'are very welcome.
Dutch M.
This is my business Sir; I took into my charge
A few words to deliver to your self
From a dear friend of yours, that wonders strangely
At your unkinde neglect.
Sir Oliv.

Indeed? what might he be Sir.

Dutch M.

Nay, y'are i'th' wrong gender now,—'Tis that distressed Lady, your good wife Sir.

Sir Oliv.

What say you Sir, my wife?

Dutch M.
Yes Sir, your wife!
This strangeness now of yours seems more to harden
Th'uncharitable neglect she tax't you for.
Sir Oliv.

Pray give me leave Sir, is my wife a­live?

Dutch M.

Came any news to you Sir, to th'con­trary?

Sir Oliv.

Yes by my faith did there.

Dutch M.

Pray how long since Sir?

Sir Oliv.

'Tis now some ten weeks.

Dutch M.
Faith within this moneth Sir,
I saw her talk and eat; and those in our Kalender
Are signs of life and health.
Sir Oliv.

Mass so they are in ours.

Dutch M.
And these were the last words her pas­sion threw me.
No grief, quoth she, sits to my heart so close
As his unkindness, and my daughters loss.
Sir Oliv.
[Page 26]
You make me weep, and wonder, for I swear
I sent her ransome, and that daughter's here.
Dutch M.
Here! that will come well to lighten her of one grief.
I long to see her for the pitious moan
Her Mother made for her.
Sir Oliv.

That shall you Sir.—Within there!

Serv.

Sir.

Sir Oliv.

Call down my daughter.

Serv.

Yes Sir.

Sir Oliv.
Here's strange budgelling; I tell you Sir,
Those that I put in trust, were neer me too,
A man would think they should not juggle with me;
My own son, and my servant, no worse people Sir.
Dutch M.
And yet oft-times Sir, what worse Knave to a man
Then he that eats his meat?
Sir Oliv.
Troth you say true Sir;
I sent 'em simply, and that news they brought,
My wife had left the world, and with that Son
I sent to her, this brought his sister home:
Look you Sir, this is she.
Enter Grace.
Dutch M.
If my eye sin not Sir,
Or misty error falsifie the glass,
I saw that face at Antwerp in an Inn
When I set forth first to fetch home this boy.
Sir Oliv.

How, in an Inn?

Grace.

Oh I am betray'd I fear.

Dutch M.

How do you yong Mistress?

Grace.
Your eyes wrong your tongue Sir,
And makes you sin in both; I am not she.
Dutch M.
[Page 27]
No? then I never saw face twice▪ Si Olive Twilight
I tell you my free thoughts, I fear y'are blinded;
I do not like this story; I doubt much
The sister is as false as the dead mother:
Sir Oliv.
Ye! say you so Sir? I see nothing lets me, but to doubt so too then:
So, to your Chamber, we have done with you.
Grace.
I would be glad you had; here's a strange storm.
Sift it out well Sir; till anon I leave you Sir.
Dutch M.
Business commands me hence, but as a pledge
Of my return, I'll leave my little son with you,
Who yet takes little pleasure in this Country,
Cause he can speak no English, all Dutch he▪
Sir Oliv.

A fine boy, he's welcome Sir to me.

Dutch M.

Where', your leg, and your thanks to the Gentleman.

Dutch Boy.
War es you neighgen an you thonkes you.
Ick donck you, ver ew Edermon vrendly Kite.
Sir Oliv.

What says he Sir?

Dutch M.

He thanks you for your kindness.

Sir Oliv.

Pretty Knave!

Dutch M.
Had not some business held me by the way,
This news had come to your ear ten days ago.
Sir Oliv.

It comes too soon now me thinks; I'm your debtor.

Dutch M.

But I could wish it Sir for better ware:

Exit.
Sir Oliv:
We must not be our own chusers in our fortunes:
Here's a cold Pye to breakfast: Wife alive,
The daughter doubtful, aud the money spent!
How am I juggled withal?
[Page 28]Enter Savorwit.
Sav
It hits y'faith Sir,
The work goes even.
Sir Oliv.

Oh come, come, come, are you come Sir!

Sav.

Life, what's the matter now?

Sir Oliv.

There's a new reckoning come in since.

Sav.

Pox on't, I thought all had been paid, I can't abide these after-reckonings.

Sir Oliv.
I pray come near Sir, let's be acquaint­ed with you,
Your bold enough abroad with my purse Sir.
Sav.

No more then beseems manners and good use Sir:

Sir Oliv.
Did not you bring me word some ten weeks since.
My wife was dead?
Sav.

Yes, true Sir, very true Sir.

Sir Oliv.
Pray stay, and take my horse along with you,
And with the ransome that I sent for her
That you redeem'd my daughter:
Sav.
Right as can be Sir,
I never found your worship in a false tale yet:
Sir Oliv.
I thank you for your good word Sir; but I'm like
To finde your worship now in two at once:
Sav.

I should be sorry to hear that▪

Sir Oliv.
I believe you Sir,
Within this moneth my wife was sure alive.
There's six weeks bated of your ten weeks lye,
As has been credibly reported to me
By a Dutch Merchant, Father to that boy
But now come over, and the words scarce cold.
Sav.
[Page 29]

O strange!—'tis a most rank untruth; where is he Sir?

Sir Oliv.

He will not be long absent.

Sav.
All's confounded.
If he were here, I'll tell him to his face Sir,
He wears a double tongue; that's Dutch and English—
Will the Boy say't?
Sir Oliv.

'Lass he can speak no English.

Sav.

All the better, I'll gabble something to him. Hoyste Kaloiste, Kalooskin [...]e vou, dar sune, Alla Gas­kin?

Dutch Boy.

Ick wet neat watt hey zackt, Ick un­verston ewe neat.

Sav.

Why la, I thought as much!

Sir Oliv.

What says the Boy?

Sav.

He says his Father is troubled with an imper­fection at one time of the Moon, and talks like a Mad­man.

Sir Oliv:

What does the Boy say so?

Sav.
I knew there was somewhat in't;
Your wife alive! Will you believe all tales Sir?
Sir Oliv.
Nay more Sir, he told me, he saw this wench
Which you brought home, at Antwerp in an Inn;
Tell me, I'm plainly couzen'd of all hands,
'Tis not my daughter neither.
Sav.

All's broke out.

How? not your daughter Sir? I must to' [...] again. Quisquinikin Sa [...]lamare, alla pisse kickin Sows-clows, Hoff Tofte le cumber shaw, bouns bus bexsceeno.

Dutch Boy.

Ick an sawth no int hein clappon de heeke, I dinke ute zein zennon.

Sav.

Oh zein zennon! Ah ha, I thought how 'twould prove i'th' end; the Boy says they never came near Antwerp, a quite contrary way, round a­bout by Parma.

Sir Oliv.
[Page 32]

What's the same zein zennon?

Sav.

That is, he saw no such wench in an Inn; 'tis well I came in such happy time to get it out of the Boy before his Father returned again; pray be wary Sir; the world's subtle, come and pretend a charitable business in policy, and work out a peice of money on you.

Sir Oliv.

Mass, art advis'd of that?

Sav.

The Age is cunning Sir, beside a Dutchman will live upon any ground, and work Butter out of a Thistle.

Sir Oliv:
Troth thou say'st true in that, they're the best thrivers
In Turnips, Hartichalks, and Cabishes:
Our English are not like them.
Sav.

O fy, no Sir!

Sir Oliv.

Ask him from whence they came, when they came hither.

Sav.

That I will Sir,— Culluaron lagooso, lageen, lagan, rufft, punkatee.

Dutch Boy.

Nimd aweigh de cack.

Sav.

What, what, I cannot blame him then?

Sir Oliv.

What says he to thee?

Sav.

The poor Boy blushes for him; he tells me his Father came from making merry with certain of his Countrymen, and he's a little steep'd in English Beer; there's no heed to be taken of his tongue now.

Sir Oliv.

Hoyda! how com'st thou by all this, I heard him speak but three words to thee?

Sav.

O Sir, the Dutch is a very wide Language; you shall have ten English words even for one; as for example, Gullder-goose, there's a word for you Master.

Sir Oliv.

Why what's that same Gullder-goose?

Sav

How do you and all your generation—

Sir Oliv.
[Page 31]

Why 'tis impossible? how prove you that Sir?

Sav.

'Tis thus distinguisht; Sir, Gull, how do you? Der, and; Goose, your generation.

Sir Oliv:

'Tis a most saucy Language, how cam'st thou by't?

Sav.
I was brought up to London in an Eelship;
There was the place I caught it first by th'tale:
I shall be tript anon; Pox, would I were gone.
I'll go seek out your son Sir, you shall hear
What thunder he'll bring with him.
Sir Oliv.
Do, do Savorwit,
I'll have you all face to face.
Sav.
Cuds me, what else Sir?
And you take me so near the net again,
I'll give you leave to squat me; I have scap'd fairly.
We are undone in Dutch; all our three moneths roguery
Is now come over in a Butter Firkin.
Exit Savorwit.
Sir Oliv.
Never was man so tost between two tales!
I know not which to take, not which to trust;
The Boy here is the likeliest to tell truth,
Because the worlds corruption is not yet
At full years in him; sure he cannot know
What deceit means, 'tis English yet to him.
And when I think again, why should the Father
Dissemble for no profit? he gets none,
What ere he hopes for, and I think he hopes not.
The man's in a good case, being old and weary,
He dares not lean his arm on his sons shoulder,
For fear he lie i'th' dirt, but must be rather
Beholding to a stranger for his prop.
[Page 32]Enter Dutchman.
Dutch M.

I make bold once again Sir for a Boy here.

Sir Oliv.
O Sir y're welcome, pray resolve me one thing Sir:
Did you within this moneth, with your own eyes,
See my wife living?
Dutch M.
I nev'r borrowed any.
Why should you move that question Sir? dissembling
Is no part of my living.
Sir Oliv.
I have reason
To urge it so far Sir (pray be not angry though)
Because my man was here since your departure,
Withstands all stiffly, and to make it clearer,
Question'd your Boy in Dutch; who as he told me,
Return'd this answer first to him: That you
Had imperfection at one time o'th' Moon,
Which made you talk so strangely.
Dutch M.

How, how's this! Zeicke▪ yongon, ick ben ick quelt medien dullek heght, ee untoit van the mon, an koot uram'd.

Dutch Boy.

Wee ek. heigh lieght in ze Bokkas, dee't site.

Dutch M.
Why la you Sir? here's no such thing,
He says he lies in's throat that says it.
Sir Oliv.
Then the Rogue lies in's throat, for he told me so,
And that the boy should answer at next question,
That you ne'r saw this wench, nor came near Ant­werp.
Dutch M.

Ten thousand Devils! Zeicke hee ewe ek kneeght, yongon, dat wee neeky by Antwarpon ne don cammen no seene de doughter Dor.

Dutch Boy.

Ick hub ham hean sulka dongon he zaut, hei es a [...] sk [...]llom an rubbout?

Dutch M.
[Page 33]

He says he told him no such matter he's a Knave and a Rascal.

Sir Oliv.
Why, how am I abus'd? Pray tell me one thing,
What's Gulldergoose in Dutch?
Dutch M.

How Gulldergoose! there's no such thing in Dutch, it may be an Ass in English.

Sir Oliv.

Hoyda! then am I that Ass in plain English; I am grosly couzen'd, most inconside­rately.

Pray let my house receive you for one night,
That I may quit these Rascals, I beseech you Sir.
Dutch M.

If that may stead you Sir, I'll not refuse you.

Sir Oliv.
A thousand thanks, and welcome:
On whom can Fortune more spit out her foam,
Work'd on abroad, and plai'd upon at home?
Exeunt.

Act 2.

Scaen 1.

Enter Weatherwise the Gull, meeting two or three bringing out a Table.
Weath.

SO, set the Table ready, the Widow's i'd [...]' next room, looking upon my Clock with the days and the moneths, and the change of the Moon: I'll fetch her in presently.

Clown.

She's not so mad to be fetcht in with the Moon, I warrant you: A man must go roundlier to work with a Widow, then to woo her with the Hand of a Dial, or stir up her Blood with the striking part of a clock, I should ne'r stand to show her such things in Chamber.

Exeunt.
[Page 34]Enter Weatherwise with the Widow, Sir Gilbert Lambston, Mr. Pepperton, Mr. Overdon.
Weath.

Welcome sweet Widow to a Batchelors house here, a single man; I, but for two or three Maids that I keep.

Wid.

Why are you double with them then?

Weath.

An exceeding good mourning wit; Wo­men are wiser then ever they were, since they wore Doublets.—You must think sweet Widow, if a man keep Maids, they're under his subjection.

Wid.

That's most true Sir.

Weath.

They have no reason to have a Lock, but the Master must have a Key to't.

Wid.

To him Sir Gilbert, he fights with me at a wrong weapon now.

Weath.
Nay, and Sir Gilbert strike, my weapon falls,
I fear no thrust but his; here are more shooters,
But they have shot two Arrows without heads,
They cannot stick i'th' Butt yet; hold out Knight,
And I'll cleave the black pin in 'th' midst o'th' white.
Exit.
Wid.

Nay, and he led me into a Closet Sir, where he shew'd me dyet drinks for several moneths, as Scurvigrass for April, Clarified Whey for June, and the like

Lambst.

O Madam, he is a most necessary pro­perty—An't be but to save our credit, ten pound in a Banquet.

Wid.

Go! y're a wag Sir Gilbert.

Lambst.

How many there be in the world of his Fortunes, that prick their own Calves with Bryers, to make an easie passage for others; or like a toiling [Page 35] Usurer, sets his son a hors-back in Cloth of Gold­breeches, while he himself goes [...]'ch' Devil a foot in a pair of old Strossers.

But shall I give a more familiar sign?
His are the Sweet-meats, but the kisses mine.
Overd.

Excellent! a pox a' your Fortune.

Peppert.

Saucy courting has brought all modest wooing clean out of fashion: You shall have few Maids now a days got without rough handling; all the Towns so us'd to't, and most commonly too they're joyn'd before they're married; because they'll be sure to be fast enough.

Overd.
Sir, since he strives t'oppose himself against us,
Le [...]'s so combine our friendships in our straits,
By all means graceful to assist each other;
For I protest it shall as much glad me
To see your happiness, and his disgrace,
As if the wealth were mine, the love, the place.
Peppert.
And with the like faith I reward your friendship;
I'll break the baudy ranks of his discourse,
And scatter his libidinous whispers streight, M [...] ­dam!
Wid.

How cheer you Gentlemen?

Lambst.
Pox on 'em,
They wak'd me out of a fine sleep, three minutes
Had fastned all the treasure in mine arms.
Peppert.

You took no note of this conceit, it seems, Madam.

Wid.

Twelve Trenchers, upon every one a moneth, January, February, March, April——

Peppert.

I, and their Poesies under 'em.

Wid.
Pray what says May? she's the Spring Lady▪
Now gallant May in her array▪
Doth make the field pleasant and gay.
Overd.
[Page 36]
This moneth of June use clarified Whey,
Boil'd with cold herbs, and drink alway.
Wid.

Drink't all away, he should say?

Peppert.

'Twere mach better indeed, and whole­somer for his Liver.

Lambst.

September's a good one here Madam—

Wid.

Oh have you chose your moneth, let's hear't Sir Gilbert!

Lambst.
Now may'st thou Physicks safely take,
And bleed, and bathe for thy healths sake.
Eat Figs and Grapes, and spicery,
For to refresh thy Members dry.
Wid.

Thus it is still, when a mans simple meaning lights among wantons; how many honest words have suffered corruption, since Chaucers days? A Virgin would speak those words then, that a very Midwife would blush to hear now, if she have but so much blood left to make up an ounce of grace. And who is this long on, but such wags as you, that use your words like your wenches? you cannot let 'em pass honestly by you, but you must still have a flirt at 'em.

Peppert.

You have paid some of us home, Ma­dam.

Enter Weatherwise.
Weath.

If conceit will strike this stroke, have at the Widows Plumb-tree; I'll put 'em down all for a Banquet. Widow and Gentlemen, my Friends and Servants, I make you wait long here for a Batchelors pittance.

Wid.

O Sir, y'are pleas'd to be modest.

Weath.

No by my troth, Widow, you shall finde it otherwise.

Strike Musick.
[Page 37]Enter Banquet, and six of his Tenants with the Twelve Signs, made like Banquetting-stuff.
Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces.
Wid.

What the Twelve Signs!

Weath.

These are the Signs of my love, Widow▪

Wid.
Worse meat would have serv'd us Sir; by my Faith
I'm sorry you should be at such charges Sir,
To feast us a whole moneth together here.
Weath.

Widow, thou'rt welcome a whole moneth, and ever.

Wid.

And what be those Sir that brought in the Banquet?

Weath.

Those are my Tenants, they stand for Fast­ing days.

Lambst.

Or the six weeks in Lent.

Weath.
Y're i'th' right Sir Gilbert.
Sweet Widow take your place at Aries here,
That's the head Sign—, a Widow is the head
Till she be married.
Wid.

What is she then?

Weath.

The middle.

Wid.

'Tis happy she's no worse.

Weath.
Taurus, Sir Gilbert Lambston that's for you;
They say you're a good Town▪Bull.
Lambst.

O spare your friends Sir.

Weath.
And Gemini for Master Pepperton,
He had two boys at once by his last wife.
Peppert.

I hear the Widow finde no fault with that Sir.

Weath.
Cancer the Crab for Master Overdon';
[Page 38]For when a thing's past fifty, it grows crooked.
Wid.

Now for your self Sir.

Weath.

Take no care for me Widow,

I can be any where; here's Leo, heart and hack, Vir­go, guts and belly; I can go lower yet, and yet fare better, sence Sagittarius fits me the thighs; I care not if I be about the thighs, I shall finde meat enough

Wid.
But under pardon Sir,
Though you be Lord o'th' Feast, and the conceit both,
Methinks it had been proper for the Banquet
To have had the Signs all fil'd, and no one idle.
Weath.

I know it had; but whose fault's that Widow? you should have got you more Suitors to have stopt the gaps.

Wid.
Nay sure, they should get us, and not we them;
There be your Tenants Sir; we are not proud,
You may bid them sit down.
Weath.

By th'mass it's true too,

Then sit down Tenants once with your hats on, but spare the meat, I charge you, as you hope for new Leases: I must make my Signs draw out a moneth yet, with a bit every morning to break-fast, and at Full Moon with a whole one; that's restorative; sit round, sit round, and do not speak sweet Tenants, you may be bold enough, so you eat but little; how like you this now Widow?

Wid.
It shows well Sir,
And like the good old Hospitable fashion.
Clow▪

How! like a good old Hospital; my Mi­stres▪ makes an arrant gull on him.

Wid.

But yet methinks there wants cloaths for the feet.

Weath.

That part's uncovered yet,—push [Page 39] no matter for the feet.

Wid.

Yes, if the feet catch cold, the head will feel it.

Weath.

Why then you may draw up your legs, and lie rounder together.

Lambst.

H'as answered you well Madam.

Weath.

And you draw up your legs too, Widow, my Tenant will feel you there, for he's one of the Calves.

Wid.

Better and better Sir, your wit fattens as he feeds.

Clow.

Sh'as took the Calf from his Tenant, and put it upon his ground now.

Enter Mistress Low-water as a gallant Gentleman, her Husband like a Serving-man after her.
Weath.

How now my Ladies man, what's the news Sir!

Serv.
Madam, there's a yong Gentleman below,
H'as earnest business to your Ladiship
Weath.

Another Suiter I hold my life, Widow.

Wid.

What is he Sir?

Serv.
He seems a Gentleman,
That's the least of him, and yet more I know not.
Wid.
Under the leave o'th▪ Master of the house here,
I would he were admitted.
Weath.
With all my heart, Widow, I fear him not,
Come Cut and Long tail.
Lambst.
I have the least fear,
And the most firmness, nothing can shake me.
Weath.

If he be a Gentleman, he's welcome; there's a Sign does nothing, and that's fit for a Gen­tleman; the feet will be kept warm enough▪ now [...] [Page 40] you Widow; for if he be a right Gentleman, he has his stockins warm'd, and he wears socks beside; partly for warmth, partly for cleanliness; and if he observe Fridays too, he comes excellent well. Pisces will be a fine Fish dinner for him.

Wid.

Why then you mean Sir, he shall sit as he comes.

Weath.

I, and he were a Lord, he shall not sit a­bove my Tenants▪ I'll not have two Lords to them; so I may go look my rent in another mans Breeches; I was not brought up to be so unmannerly?

Enter Mistress Low-water.
Mrs Low

I have pickt out a bold time; much go [...]d do you Gentlemen.

Weath.

Y're welcome as I may say Sir.

Mrs Low.

Pardon my rudeness, Madam.

Wid.
No such fault Sir;
Your too severe to your self, our judgment quits you.
Please you to do as we do?
Mrs Low.

Thanks good Madam.

Wid.

Make room Gentlemen.

Weath
Sit still Tenants, I'll call in all your old
Leas [...]s, and rack you else.
All Tenants.

Oh sweet Landlord.

Mrs Low.

Take my cloak sirrah; if any be di­sturb'd, I'll not sit Gentlemen,

I see my place.

Weath.

A proper woman turn'd gallant! if the Widow refuse me, I care not if I be a suiter to him: I have known those who have been as mad, and given half their living for a Male companion.

Mrs Low.
How Pisces! is that mine?
'Tis a concei [...]ed Banquet.
Weath.
[Page 41]

If you love any fish, pray fall to Sir; if you had come sooner, you might have happened a­mong some of the flesh Signs, but now they'r all taken up; Virgo had been a good dish for you, had not one of my Tenants been somewhat busie with her.

Mrs Low.
Pray let him keep her Sir, give me meat fresh,
I'd rather have whole fish then broken flesh.
Lambst.

What say you to a bit of Taurus?

Mrs Low.
No, I thank you Sir,
The Bull's too rank for me.
Lambst.

How Sir?

Mrs Low.

Too rank Sir.

Lambst.

Fy, I shall strike you dumb like all your fellows:

Mrs Low.

What with your heels, or horns?

Lambst.

Perhaps with both.

Mrs Low.
It must be at dead Low-water,
When I'm dead then.
Mr Low:

'Tis a brave Kate, and nobly spoke of thee.

Weath.

This quarrel must be drown'd— Picka­dille, my Ladies Fool!

Clow.

Your, your own man Sir.

Weath.

Prethee step in to one o'th' Maids.

Clow.

That I will Sir, and thank you too.

Weath.

Nay, hark you Sir, call for my Sun cup presently, I'd forgot it.

Clow.

How, your Sun-cup? some cup I warrant that he stole out o'th' Sun-Tavern?

Wid.
The more I look on him, the more I thirst for't;
Methinks his beauty does so far transcend,
Turns the Signs back, makes that the upper end;
Weath.
How cheer you Widow? Gentlemen how chear you?
[Page 42]Fair weather in all quarters, the Sun will peep anon, I have sent one for him;
In the mean time I'll tell you a tale of these.
This Libra here that keeps the scale so even,
Was i'th' old time an honest Chandlers Widow,
And had one daughter which was called Virgo,
Which now my hungry Tenant has deflowr'd.
This Virgo passing for a Maid, was sued to
By Sagittarius there, a gallant shooter,
And Aries his head-rival; but her old crabbed Uncle Cancer here, dwelling in Crooked lane,
Still crost the marriage minding to bestow her
Upon one Scorpio, a rich Usurer;
The girl loathing that match, fell into folly
With one Taurus, a Gentleman in Townbul-street;
By whom she had two twins, those Gemini there.
Of which two brats, she was brought a bed in Leo,
At the Red Lion about Tower-hill.
Being in this distress, one Capricorn,
An honest Citizen pittied her case, and married her to Aquarius, an old Water bearer,
And Pisces was her living ever after,
At Standard she sold fish, where he drew water.
All.

It shall be yours Sir▪

Wid.
Meat and mirth too, y're lavish!
Your purse and tongue has been at cost to day Sir.
Lambst.

You may challenge all comers at these twelve weapons I warrant you.

Enter Clown.
Clow.

Your Sun-cup call you it! 'tis a simple voy­age that I have made here; I have left my Doublet within, for fear I should sweat through my Jerkin, and thrown a Cypress over my face for fear of Sun­burning.

Weath.
[Page 43]

How now, whose this? why sirrah.

Clow.

Can you endure it Mistress?

Wid.

Endure, what fool!

Weath.

Fill the cup Coxcomb.

Clow.

Nay an't be no hotter, I'll go put on my Doublet again.

Exit.
Weath.

What a whoreson-sot is this! prethee fill the cup fellow, and giv't the Widow.

Mrs Low.

Sirrah, how stand you? bestow your service there upon her Ladiship.

Wid.

What's here a Sun?

Weath.
It does betoken Madam
A chearful day to some body?
Wid.
It rises
Full in the face of you fair Sign, and yet
By course he is the last must feel the heat.
Here Gentlemen to you all, for you know the Sun must go through the twelve Signs.
Weath.
Most wittily Widow; you jump with my conceit right,
There's not a hair between us.
Wid.

Give it Sir Gilbert.

Lambst.
I am the next through whom the golden flame
Shines, when 'tis spent in thy Celestial Ram,
The poor Feet there must wait and cool a while▪
Mrs Low.
We have our Time Sir, Joy and we shall meet,
I have known the proud Neck lie between the Feet.
Weath.

So round it goes.

Enter Clown.
Clow.

I like this drinking world well.

Weath.

So filt him again.

Peppert.

Fil't me! why I drunk last Sir▪

Weath.
[Page 44]
I know you did, but Gemini must drink twice,
Unless you mean that one of them shall be choak'd.
Wid.
Fly from my heart all variable thoughts;
She that's entic'd by every pleasing object,
Shall finde small pleasure, and as little rest.
This Knave hath lov'd me long, he's best and worthi­est,
I cannot but in honor see him requited—Sir Gil­bert Lambston.
Mrs Low.
How? pardon me sweet Lady,
That with a bold tongue I strike by your words,
Sir Gilbert Lambston?
Lambst.

Yes Sir, that's my name.

Mrs Low.
There should be a rank Villain of that name,
Came you out of that house—
Lambst.

How, Sir Slave!

Mrs Low.

Fall to your Bull, leave roaring till a­non:

Weath.
Yet again! and you love me Gentlemen, let's have no roaring here.
If I had thought that, I'd have sent my Bull to the Bear garden.
Peppert.

Why so you should have wanted one of your Signs.

Weath.

But I may chance want two now, and they fall together by the ears.

Wid.
What's the strange fire that works in these two Creatures?
Cold Signs both, yet more hot then all their fel­lows—
Weath.

Ho Sol in Pisces! the Sun's in New Fish­street; here's an end of this course.

Clow.

Madam, I am bold to remember your wor­ship for a years wages, and an Livery-cloak.

Wid:
[Page 45]

How, will you shame me, had you not both last week fool?

Clow.

I, but there's another year past since that.

Wid.

Would all your wit could make that good Sir.

Clow.

I am sure the Sun has run through all the twelve Signs since, and that's a year, this Gentlemen can witness.

Weath.

The fool will live Madam.

Clow.

I as long as your eyes are open, I warrant him.

Mrs Low.

Sirrah!

Mr Low.

Does your worship call?

Mrs Low.
Commend my love and service to the Widow,
Desire her Ladiship to taste that morsel.
Mr Low.
This is the bit I watcht for all this while;
But it comes duly.
Lambst.
And wherein has this name of mine of­fended,
That y're so liberal of your infamous titles?
I but a stranger to thee, it must be known Sir
Ere we two part.
Mrs Low.

Marry and reason good Sir.

Wid.

O strike me cold—this should be your hand Sir Gilbert?

Lambst.

Why, make you question of that Madam? 'tis one of the Letters I sent you.

Wid.

Much good do you Gentlemen.

All.

How now? what's the matter?

Weath.

Look to the Widow, she paints white, some Aqua Coelist is for my Lady, run vilain.

Clow.

Aqua Solister; can no body help her case but a Lawyer? and so many Suiters here?

Wid.

O treachery unma ch't, unheard of!

Lambst.
[Page 46]

How do you Madam?

Wid▪
Oh impudence as foul! does my disease
Ask how I do? can it torment my heart,
And look with a fresh colour in my face?
Lambst▪

What's this! what's this!

Weath.

I am sorry for this qualm Widow.

Wid.
He that would know a villain when he meets him,
Let him ne'r go to a Conjurer; here's a glass
Will show him without money, and far truer.
Preferver of my state, pray tell me Sir,
That I may pay you all my thanks together;
What blest hap brought that Letter to your hand
From me, so fast lockt in mine enemies power?
Mrs Low.
I will resolve you Madam: I have a Kinsman
Somewhat infected with that wanton pitty
Which men bestow on the distress of women,
Especially if they be fair and poor,
With such hot Charity, which indeed is Lust;
He sought t'entice, as his repentance told me,
Her whom you call your enemy, the wife
To a poor Gentleman, one Low▪ water.
Wid.

Right, right the same.

Mr Low.

Had it been right, 't'ad now been.

Mrs Low.
And according to the common rate of sinners,
Offer'd large maintenance, which with her seem'd nothing;
For if she would consent, she told him roundly,
There was a Knight had bid more at one minute
Then all his wealth could compass; and withal,
Pluckt out that Letter as it were in scorn;
Which by good fortune he put up in jest,
With promise that the Writ should be returnable
The next hour of his meeting. (But sweet Madam)
[Page 47]Out of my love and zeal, I did so practise
The part upon him of an urgent wooer,
That neither he nor that return'd more to her.
Lambst.

Plague a that Kinsman.

Weath.

Here's a gallant Rascal!

Wid.
Sir you have appear'd so noble in this action,
So full of worth and goodness, that my thanks
Will rather shame the Bounty of my minde,
Then do it honor: Oh thou treacherous villain!
Does thy Faith bear such fruit? are these the blos­soms of a hundred Oaths
Shot from thy bosom? was thy love so spightful,
It could not be content to mock my heart,
Which is in love, a misery too much,
But must extend so far to the quick ruine
Of what was painfully got, carefully left me;
And 'mongst a world of yeilding-needy women,
Chuse no one to make merry with my sorrows,
And spend my wealth on, in adulterous surfeits.
But my most mortal enemy—O despightful!
Is this thy practice? follow it, 'twill advance thee:
Go, beguile on; have I so happily found
What many a Widow has with sorrow tasted,
Even when my Lip touch't the contracting Cup,
Ev'n then to see the Spider; 'twas miraculous!
Crawl with thy poysons hence, and for thy sake
I'll never covet Titles, and more Riches,
To fall into a gulf of hate and laughter:
I'll marry Love hereafter, I've enough;
And wanting that, I have nothing—There's thy way.
Overd

Do you hear Sir? you must walk.

Peppert.

Hear't! thrust him down stairs.

Weath.

Out of my house you treacherous, leche­rous Rascal.

Lambst.

All curses scatter you.

Weath.
[Page 48]

Life, do you thunder here; if you had staid a little longer, I'd have rip't out some of my Bull out of your Belly again.

Peppert.

'Twas a most noble discovery; we must love you for ever for't.

Wid.
Sir, for your Banquet and your mirth we thank you;
You Gentlemen, for your kinde company:
But you, for all my merry days to come,
Or this had been the last else.
Mrs Low.
Love and Fortune
Had more care of your safety, peace and state Ma­dam.
Weath.

Now will I thrust in fo'rt.

Peppert.

I'm for my self now.

Overd.
What's fifty years? 'tis mans best time and season;
Now the nights gone, the Widow will hear reason:
Mr Low.
Now, now! the Suiters flatter, hold on Kate,
The Hen may pick the meat, while the Cocks prate.
Exeunt.
Enter Mr Sandfield, Philip, Sir Oliver Twilights Son with Savorwit.
Phil.
If thou talk'st longer, I shall turn to Mar­ble,
And death wil! stop my hearing▪
Sandf.

Horrible fortune!

Sav.
Nay Sir our building is so far defac'd,
There is no stuff left to raise up a hope.
Phil.
Oh with more patience could my flesh en­dure
A score of wounds, and all their several searchings,
Then this that thou hast told me.
Sav.
[Page 49]
Would that Flemmish Ram
Had ne'r come near our house; there's no going home
As long as he has a Nest there, and his yong one
A little Flanders Egg, new fleg'd: they gape for Pork, and I shall be made meat for'em.
Phil.
'Tis not the bare news of my Mothers life
(May she live long and happy,) that afflicts me
With half the violence that the latter draws;
Though in that news I have my share of grief,
As I had share of sin; and a foul neglect,
It is my Loves betraying; that's the sting
That strikes through flesh and spirit; and sence no [...] wit
From thee, in whom I ne'r saw ebb till now;
Nor comforts from a faithful friend can ease me,
I'll try the goodness of a third companion,
What he'll do for me.
Sandf.

Hold! why friend?

Sav.

Why Master? is this all your kindness Sir: offer to steal into another Country, and ne'r take your leave on's: T [...]oth, I take it unkindly at your hands Sir; but I'll put it up for once: Faith there was no Conscience in this Sir; leave me here to en­dure all weathers, whilst you make your [...]oul d [...]e like a Juglers Egg upon the point of a Rap [...]er▪ By my troth Sir, y're too blame in't; you might have gi­ven us an inckling of your journey; perhaps others would as fain have gone as you.

Phil.
Burns this Clay-lamp of miserable life,
When Joy, the Oyl that feeds it, is dried up?
[Page 50]Enter his Mother new landed, with a Gentleman a Scholler, &c.
Moth.

He has remov'd his house.

Bev.

So it seems, Madam.

Moth.
I'll ask that Gentleman;—pray can you tell me Sir
Which is Sir Oliver Twilights?
Phil.
Few can better, Gentlewoman;
It is the next fair house your eye can fix on.
Moth.

I thank you Sir, go on, he had a son about some ten years since.

Phil.

That son still lives.

Moth

I pray how does he Sir?

Phil.
Faith much about my health, (that's never worse)
If you have any business to him, Gentlewoman,
I can cut short your journey to the house;
I'm all that ever was of the same kinde.
Moth.
Oh my sweet son! never fell fresher joy
Upon the heart of Mother; this is he Sir!
Bev.

My seven years travel has e'n worm him out Of my remembrance.

Sav.

Oh this geer's worse and worse!

Phil.
I am so wonder-struck at your blest pre­sence,
That through amaz'd Joy, I neglect my duty!
Moth.

Rise, and a thousand blessings spring up with thee.

Sav.
I would we had but one in the mean time,
Let the rest grow at leisure.
Moth.

But know you not this Gentleman yet son?

Phil.

It take its Mr Beveril.

Bev.

My name's Beveril, Sir:

Phil.

Right welcome to my bosom▪

Moth.
[Page 51]
You'ld not think son,
How much I am beholding to this Gentleman,
As far as freedom; he laid out the ransom,
Finding me so distress'd.
Phil.
'Twas worthily done Sir,
And I shall ever rest your servant for't.
Bev.
You quite forget your worth: 'Twas my good hap Sir,
To return home that way, after some travels;
Where finding your good Mother so distress'd,
I could not but in pitty see her releas'd.
Phil.

It was a noble Charity Sir, Heaven quit you.

Sav.

It comes at last.

Bev.
I left a sister here,
New married when I last took leave of England.
Phil.

Oh! Mistress Low-water▪

Bev.

Pray Sir, how does she!

Phil.
So little comfort I can give you Sir,
That I would fain excuse my self, for silence.
Bev.

Why what's the worst Sir.

Phil.

Wrongs has made her poor.

Bev.

You strike my heart—Alas good Gentle­woman!

Phil.
Here's a Gentleman,
You know him, Mr Sandfield.
Bev.

I crave pardon Sir▪

Phil.

He can resolve you, from her Kinswoman.

Sandf.

Welcome to England, Madam.

Moth.

Thanks good Sir,

Phil.
Now there's no way to 'scape, I'm compas'd round;
My shame is like a prisoner set with Halbards.
Sav.
Pish Master, Master, 'tis yong flood again,
And you can take your time now, away quick.
Phil.

Push, thou'st a swimming head.

Sav.
Will you but hear me?
[Page 52]When did you lose your tide, when I set forth with you?
Phil.

That's true:

Sav.
Regard me then, though you have no feeling;
I would not hang by th'Thumbs with a good will.
Phil

I hang by th'heart Sir, and would fain have ease.

Sav.
Then this or none: Flie to your Mothers pitty,
For that's the Court must help you; y'are quite gone
At Common Law, no Counsellor can hear you
Confess your follies, and ask pardon for'em.
Tell her the state of all things, stand not nicely,
The meat's too hard to be minc'd now; she breeds yong bones by this time?
Deal plainly, Heaven will bless thee; turn out all
And shake your pockets after it: Beg, weep, kneel, any thing, 'twill break no bones man.
Let her not rest, take breathing time, nor leave thee
Till thou hast got her help.
Phil.

Lad, I conceive thee.

Sav.
About it then, it requires haste, do't well;
There', but a short street between us and Hell.
Bev.

Ah my poor sister!

Moth.
'Lass good Gentlewoman▪
My heart ev'n weeps for her:—I son, we'll go now.
Phil.

May I crave one word Madam?

Shogs his Mother.
Moth.
With me son?
The more the better welcome.
Sav.
Now, now, luck:
I pray not often, the last Prayer I made
Was nine year old last Bartholomew-Tide;
'Twould have been a jolly chopper, and ' [...]'ad liv'd till this time.
Moth.
Why do your words start back; are they afraid
[Page 53]Of her that ever lov'd them!
Phil.

I have a suit to you Madam.

Moth.
You have told me that already; pray what is't?
If't be so great, my present state refuse it,
I shall be abler, then command and use it:
What er't be, let me have warning to provide for't.
Phil.
Provide forgiveness then, for that's the want
My conscience feels; O my wilde youth has led me
Into unnatural wrongs against your freedom once:
I spent the ransom which my father sent,
To set my pleasures free, while you lay captive.
Sav.

He does it finely faith.

Moth.
And is this all now?
You use me like a stranger, pray stand up.
Phil.

Rather fall flat, I shall deserve yet worse.

Moth.
What ere your faults are, esteem me sti [...]l a friend,
Or else you wrong me more in asking pardon,
Then when you did the wrong, you ask'd it for:
And since you have prepar'd me to forgive you,
Pray let me know for what, the first faults nothing.
Sav.

'Tis a sweet Lady every inch of her.

Phil.
Here comes the wrong then that drives home the rest.
I saw a face at Antwerp, that quite drew me
From Conscience and Obedience; in that fray
I lost my heart, I must needs lose my way;
There went the ransom, to redeem my minde,
Sreed of the money, I brought over her;
And to cast mists before my Fathers eyes,
Told him it was my sister, lost so long,
And that your self was dead.—You see the wrong.
Moth.
This is but youthful still.—O that word sister
Afflicts me when I think on't: I forgive thee
[Page 54]As freely as thou didst it. For alas
This may be cal'd good dealing to some parts,
That love and youth plays daily among sons.
Sav.

She helps our Knavery well, that's one good comfort.

Phil.
But such is the hard plight my state lives in,
That 'twixt forgiveness, I must sin again,
And seek my help where I bestow'd my wrongs.
O Mother pitty once, though against reason!
Cause I can merit none, though my wrongs grieve you;
Yet let it be your glory to relieve me.
Moth.
Wherein have I given cause yet of mi­strust,
That you should doubt my succor, and my love?
Show me but in what kinde I may bestow 'em.
Phil.
There came a Dutchman with report this day,
That you were living.
Moth.

Came he so lately?

Phil
Yes Madam.
Which news so struck my Father on the sudden,
That he grows jealous of my faith in both.
These five hours have I kept me from his sight,
And wish'd my self eternally so hid:
And surely, had not your blest presence quickned
The flame of life in me, all had gone out.
Now to confirm me to his trust again,
And settle much aright in his opinion;
Say but she is my sister, and all's well.
Moth.
You ask devotion like a bashful beggar,
That pure need urges, and not lazy impudence;
And to express how glad I am to pitty you,
My bounty shall flow over your demand.
I will not onely with a constant breath
Approve that, but excuse thee for my death▪
Sav.
[Page 55]

Why here's a woman made, as a man would wish to have her!

Phil.
Oh I am plac'd higher in happiness,
Then whence I fell before!
Sav.
We're brave fellows once again, and we can keep our own:
Now Hoffte Toftee, our Pipes play as loftily?
Bev.

My sister fled!

Sandf
Both fled, that's the news now; Want must obey;
Oppressions came so thick, they could not stay.
Bev.
Mean are my fortunes, yet had I been nigh,
Distress nor wrong should have made Vertue flie.
Moth.

Spoke like a Brother, worthy such a sister;

Bev.
Grief's like a new wound, heat beguiles the sence,
For I shall feel this smart more three days hence.
Come Madam, sorrow's rude, and forgets manners.
Sav.

Our knavery is for all the world like a shift­ing Bankrupt, it breaks in one place, and sets up in another: He tryes all trades, from a Goldsmith to a Tobacco-seller; we try all shifts, from an Outlaw to a Flatterer: He couzens the Husband, and com­pounds with the Widow; we couzen my Master, and compound with my Mistress; onely here I turn o'th' right hand from him, He is known to live like a Ras­cal, when I am thought to live like a Gentleman.

Exeunt:
Enter Kate with her Man-husband.
Mrs Low.

I have sent in one to th'Widow.

Mr. Low.
Well said Kate,
Thou ply'st thy business close,—The coast is clear yet!
Mrs Low.
Let me but have warning,
[Page 56]shall make pretty shift with them.
Mr Low.

That thou shalt wench.

Exit.
[...]
My Lady Sir commends her kindly to you,
[...] the third part of an hour Sir,
[...]res your patience,—Two or three of her Te­nants out of Kent
Will hold her so long busied.
Mrs Low.
Thank you Sir.
[...] [...]it I should attend her time and leisure;
Those were my Tenants once, but what relief
Is there in what hath been, or what I was?
'Tis now that makes the man. A last years feast
Yeilds little comfort for the present humor;
He starves that feeds his hopes with what his past:
—How now?
Mr Low.

They're come, newly alighted.

Mrs Low.
Peace, peace,
I'll have a trick for 'em,—Look you second me well now.
Mr Low.

I warrant thee.

Mrs Low.

I must seem very imperious, I can tell you; therefore if I should chance to use you rough­ly, pray forgive me beforehand.

Mr Low.

With all my heart Kate.

Mrs Low.

You must look for no obedience in those clothes, that lies in the Pocket of my Gown.

Mr Low.

Well, well, I will not then.

Mrs Low.

I hear 'em coming, step back a little Sir: Where be those fellows? who looks out there? is there ne'r a Knave i'th' house to take those Gentle­mens horses? where wait you to day? how stand you? like a dreaming Goose in a corner, the Gen­tlemens horses forsooth.

Mr Low.

Yes an't like your worship.

[Page 57]Enter Master Weatherwise, Mr Pepperton, and Mr Overdon, Suiters▪
Peppert.

What's here, a strange alteration?

Weath:

A new Lord? would I were upon my Mares back again then.

Mrs Low.
Pray Gentlemen pardon the rudeness of these Grooms,
I hope they will be brought to better fashion;
In the mean time y'are welcome Gentlemen.
All.

We thank you Sir.

Weath.

Life here's quick work! I'll hold my life h'as struck the Widow i'th' right Planet, Venus in Cauda? I thought 'twas a lecherous Planet that goes to't with a Caudle.

Mrs Low.

How now Sir?

Mr Low.

The Gentlemans horses are set up Sir.

Peppert.

No, no, no, we'll away.

Weath.

We'll away.

Mrs Low.

How? by my faith, but you shall not yet, by your leave; where's Bess? call your Mistress Sir, to welcome these kinde Gentlemen my friends.

Peppert.

Overd. How Bess, Peg?

Weath.

Plain Bess! I know how the world goes then, he has been a bed with Bess, y'faith; there's no trust to these Widows; a yong horsing Gentle­man carries 'em away clear.

Mrs Low.

Now where's your Mistress Sir, how chance she comes not?

Mr Low.

Sir, she requests you to excuse her for a while, she's busie with a Millener about Gloves.

Mrs Low.

Gloves?

Weath▪

Hoyda, Gloves too!

Mrs Low.
Could she finde no other time to chuse
[Page 58]Gloves, but now when my friends are here?
Peppert.

No Sir, 'tis no matter, we thank you for your good will Sir; to say truth, We have no busi­ness with her at all at this time, y'faith Sir.

Mrs Low.

O that's another matter; yet stay, stay Gentlemen and taste a cup of Wine ere you go.

Overd.

No, thank you Sir.

Mrs Low.

Mr Pepperton, Mr Weatherwise will you Sir?

Weath.

I'll see the Wine in a drunkards shooes first, and drink't after he has brew'd it; but let her go, she's fitted y'faith; a proud surly Sir here, he domineers already; one that will shake her bones, and go to Dice with her money, or I have no skill in a Kalender: Life! he that can be so saucy to call her Bess already, will call her Prating-Queen a moneth hence.

Exeunt.
Mr Low.

They have given thee all the slip.

Mrs Low.
So a fair riddance!
There's three rubs gone, I've a clear way to th' Mi­stress.
Mr Low.

You'd need have a clear way, because y'are a bad pricker.

Mrs Low.
Yet if my Bowl take bank, I shall go nigh
To make my self a saver:
Here's Alley room enough, I'll try my fortune,
I am to begin the world like a yonger Brother;
I know that a bold face, and a good spirit,
Is all the Joynture he can make Widow;
And't shall go hard, but I'll be as rich as he, or at least seem so; and that's wealth enough:
For nothing kills a Widow's heart so much,
As a faint bashful wooer, though he have thousands,
And come with a poor Water-gruel spirit,
And a Fish▪ market face, he shall ne'r speed:
[Page 59]I would not have himself left a poor Widower.
Mr Low.

Faith I'm glad I'm alive; to commend thee Kate, I shall be sure now to see my commenda­tions delivered.

Mrs Low.

I'll put her to't y'faith.

Mr Low.
But soft ye Kate,
How and she should accept of your bold kindness?
Mrs Low.
A cheif point to be thought on, by my faith;
Marry therefore Sir, be you sure to step in, for fear I should shame my self, and spoil all:
Mr Low.

Well, I'll save your credit then for once, but look you come there no more.

Mrs Low.

Away, I hear her coming.

Mr Low.

I am vanish'd.

Exit.
Enter Widow▪
Mrs Low.

How does my life, my soul, my dear sweet Madam?

Wid.

I have wrong'd your patience, made you stand too long here.

Mrs Low.

There's no such thing y'faith Madam; y'are pleas'd to say so.

Wid.

Yes, I confess I was too slow Sir.

Mrs Low.

Why you shall make me amends for that then, with a quickness in your Bed.

Wid.

That were a speedy mends Sir.

Mrs Low.
Why then you are out of my debt;
I'll cross the Book, and turn over a new leaf with you.
Wid.

So with paying a small debt, I may chance run into a greater.

Mrs Low.

My faith your credit will be the better then: There's many a brave gallant would be glad of such fortune, and pay use for't.

Wid.

Some of them have nothing else to do; [Page 60] they would be idle and 'twere not for interest.

Mrs Low.

I promise you Widow, were I a setter up, such is my opinion of your payment, I durst trust you with all the ware in my shop.

Wid.

I thank you for your good will, I can have no more.

Mrs Low.

Not of me y'faith, nor that neither; and you know all—Come make but short service Widow, a kiss and to bed, I'm very hungry y'faith Wench.

Wid.

What are you Sir?

Mrs Low.

Oh a yonger Brother has an excellent stomack, Madam, worth a hundred of your sons and heirs, that stay their wedding stomacks with a hot bit of a Common Mistress, and then come to a Wid­ows bed like a flash of lightning: Y'are sure of the first of me, not of the five hundreth of them. I ne­ver took Physick yet in my life; you shall have the Doctor continually with them, or some bottle for his Deputy: Out flies your moneys for restoratives and strengthnings, in me 'tis sav'd in your purse, and found in your children; they'll get peevish Pothecaries stuff, you may weigh 'em by th' ounces; I boys of War, brave Commanders, that shall bear a bredth in their shoulders, and a weight in their hips, and run over a whole Countrey with a pound a Beef, and a Bisket in their Belly. Ho Widow, my kisses are Vir­gins, my embraces perfect, my strength solid, my love constant, my heat comfortable; but to come to the point, inutterable.

Wid.
But soft ye, soft ye; because you stand so stricly
Upon your purity, I'll put you to't Sir.
Will you swear here, you never yet knew woman?
Mrs Low.

Never, as man ere knew her; By this Light, Widow.

Wid.
[Page 61]

What, what Sir! shrew my heart he moves me much,

Mrs Low.
Nay, since you love to bring a man on's knees,
I take into the same oath, thus much more,
That y'are the first Widow, or Maid, or Wife,
That ever I in suit of love did Court,
Or honestly did woo: How say you to that Widow?
Wid.

Marry I say Sir, you had a good portion of Chastity left you, though ill fortune run away with the rest.

Mrs Low.

That I kept for thee Widow; she's of fortune, and all her strait bodied daughters; thou shalt have't Widow.

Wid.

Push what do you mean.

Mrs Low.

I cannot bestow't better.

Wid.

I'll call my Servants.

Mrs Low.

By my troth you shall not Madam▪

Enter Mr Low-water.
Mr Low.

Does your worship call Sir?

Mrs Low.
Ha pox! are you peeping?
Throws somewhat at him.
He came in a good time, I thank him for't:
Wid.

What do you think of me? your very for­ward Sir?

Mrs Low.

Extremity of love.

Wid
You say y'are ignorant,
It should not seem so surely by your play;
For ought I see, you may make one your self,
You need not hold the Cards to any Gamester.
Mrs Low.

That love should teach men ways to wrong it self!

Wid.
Are these the first-fruits of your boldness Sir?
[Page 62]If all take after these, you may boast on 'em;
There comes few such to Market among women:
Time you were taken down Sir▪
Within there.
Mrs Low.
I've lost my way again, there's but two paths that leads to Widows beds,
That's wealth or forwardness, and I've took the wrong one.
Enter Servant, with the Suiters.
Serv.

He marry my Lady! why there's no such thought yet.

Mrs Low.

Oh here they are all again too!

Wid.
Are you come Gentlemen?
I wish no better men.
Weath.

Oh the Moon's chang'd now!

Wid.

See you that Gentleman yonder!

Peppert.

Yes sweet Madam.

Wid.
Then pray be witness all of you, with this kiss
I chuse him for my husband.
All.

A pox on't.

Wid.

And with this parted Gold that two hearts joyn.

Mrs Low.

Never with chaster love then this of mine.

Wid.
And those that have the hearts to come to th'wedding,
They shall be welcome for their former loves.
Exit.
Peppert.

No, I thank you, y'ave choak'd me al­ready.

Weath.

I never suspected mine Almanack till now; I believe he plays cogging John with me, I bought it at his shop; it may learn the more knavery by that.

Mrs Low.
[Page 63]
Now indeed Gentlemen I can bid you welcome,
Before 'twas but a flourish.
Weath.

Nay so my Almanack told me There should be an Eclipse, but not visible in our Horizon, but about the Western inhabitants of Mexi­cana and Califormia.

Mrs Low.

Well, we have no business there Sir.

Weath.

Nor we have none here Sir, and so fare you well.

Exit.
Mrs Low.

You save the house a good labor Gen­tlemen; the fool carries them away in a Voider. Where be these fellows?

Enter Servants.
1 Serv.

Sir.

Clow.

Here Sir.

1 Serv.

What your worship pleasure.

Mrs Low.
Oh, this is something like, take you your ease Sir,
Here are those now more fit to be commanded:
Mr Low.

How few women are of thy minde; she thinks it too much to keep me in subjection for one day, whereas some wives would be glad to keep their husbands in aw all days of their lives, and think it the best bargain that ere they made.

Mrs Low.
I'll spare no cost for th'wedding, some device too,
To show our thankfulness to Wit and Fortune;
It shall be so—Run streight for one o'th' wits:
Clow.

How! one o'th' wits? I care not if I run on that account; are they in Town think you?

Mrs Low.

Whether runst thou now?

Clow.

To an Ordnary for one of the wits.

Mrs Low.

Why to an Ordnary, above a Tavern.

Clow.
[Page 64]

No, I hold your best wits to be at Ordnary, nothing so good in a Tavern:

Mrs Low.

And why I pray Sir?

Clow:

Because those that go to an Ordnary dine better for Twelve pence, then he that goes to a Ta­vern for his five shillings; and I think those have the best wits that can save four shillings, and fare better too:

Mrs Low.

So Sir, all your wit then runs upon Victuals.

Clow.

'Tis a sign 'twill hold out the longer then.

Mrs Low.

What were you saying to me?

Serv.
Please your worship,
I heard there came a Schollar over lately
With old Sir Oliver's Lady.
Mrs Low.
Is she come?
What is that Lady?
1 Serv.
A good Gentlewoman,
Has been long prisoner with the enemy.
Mrs Low.
I know't too well, and joy in her re­lease.
Go to that house then straight, and in one labor
You may bid them, and entreat home that Schollar:
1 Serv.

It shall be done with speed Sir.

Clow.

I'll along with you

And see what face that Schollar has brought over; a thin pair of Barbreaking Sea-water Green­chops, I warrant you.

Mrs Low.
Since wit has pleasur'd me, I'll pleasure wit,
Schollars shall fare the better.—O my Blessing▪
I feel a hand of mercy lift me up
Out of a world of waters, and now sets me
Upon a Mountain, where the Sun plays most,
To chear my heart ev'n as it dries my limbs.
What deep [...] I see beneath me? in whose falls
[Page 65]Many a nimble mortal toyls,
And scarce can feed himself; the streams of Fortune
'Gainst which he tugs in vain, still beat him down,
And will not suffer him (past hand to mouth)
To lift his arm to his Posterities Blessing.
I see a careful sweat run in a ring
About his Temples, but all will not do:
For till some happy means relieve his state,
There he must stick, and bide the wrath of fate▪
I see this wrath upon an uphil Land,
O blest are they can see their falls, and stand!
How now?
Enter Beveril.
Serv.

With much entreating Sir, he's come.

Mrs Low.
Sir y'are—my Brother!—Joys come thick together:
Sir when I see a Schollar, pardon me,
I am so taken with affliction for him,
That I must run into his arms, and claspe him▪
Bev.
Art stands in need Sir of such cherishers,
I meet too few; 'twere a brave world for Schollars
If half a Kingdom were but of your minde Sir;
Let Ignorance and Hell confound the rest.
Mrs Low.
Let it suffer sweet Sir, you cannot think
How deerly you are welcome.
Bev.
May I live
To show you service for't.
Mrs Low.
Your love your love Sir,
We go no higher, nor shall you go lower.
Sir I'm bold to send for you, to request
A kindness from your wit, for some device
To grace our wedding it shall be worth your pains;
And something more 'express my love to art,
[Page 66]You shall not receive all in bare embracements.
Bev.
Your love I thank, but pray Sir pardon me,
I've a heart says I must not grant you that.
Mrs Low.

No, what's your reason Sir?

Bev.
I'm not at peace
With the Lady of this house; now you'll excuse me,
Sh'as wrong'd my sister, and I may not do't.
Mrs Low.

The Widow knows you not.

Bev.
I never saw her face to my remembrance.
Oh that my heart should feel her wrongs so much,
And yet live ignorant of the injurer!
Mrs Low.
Let me perswade thee, since she knows you not,
Make clear the weather, let not griefs betray you,
I'll tell her y're a worthy friend of mine,
And so I tell her true; thou art indeed.
Sir here she comes.
Enter Widow.
Wid.

What are you busie Sir?

Mrs Low.
Nothing less Lady; here's a Gentleman
Of noble parts, beside his friendship to me;
Pray give him liberal welcome.
Wid.

He's most welcome.

Mrs Low▪

The vertues of his minde will deserve largely.

Wid.

Methinks his outward parts deserve as much then; a proper Gentleman it is.

Mrs Low.

Come worthy Sir.

Bev.
I follow; check thy blood
For fear it prove too bold to wrong thy goodness▪
A wiseman makes affections but his slaves.
Break 'em in time, let 'em not master thee.
O 'tis my sisters enemy, think of that!
Some speedy grief fall down upon the fire,
[Page 67]Before it take my heart; let it not rise
'Gainst brotherly Nature, Judgment, and these wrongs;—make clear the weather.
Oh who could look upon her face in storms!
Yet pains may work it out, griefs do but strive
To kill this sparke, I'll keep it still alive.

Act 3.

Scaen 1.

Enter the three late Suiters, Weatherwise, Pepperton, and Overdon▪ joyn'd with Sir Gilbert Lambston▪
Weath.
FAith Sir Gilbert, forget and forgive,
There's all our hands to a new bargain of friendship.
Peppert.

I and all our hearts to boot, Sir Gil­bert.

Weath.

Why la you! there's but four Suitors left on's in all th'world, and the fifth has the Widow; if we should not be kinde to one another, and so few on's y'faith, I would we were all rak'd up in some hole or other.

Sir Gilb.
Pardon me Gentlemen, I cannot but remember
Your late disgraceful words before the Widow,
In time of my oppression.
Weath.

Puh, Saturn raign'd then, a melancholy grumbling Planet, he was in the third house of privy enemies, and would have bewray'd all our plots; be­side there was a fiery conjunction in the Dragons tails, that spoil'd all that ere we went about.

Sir Gilb.
[Page 68]

Dragon or Devil, somewhat 'twas I am sure.

Weath.

Why I tell you Sir Gilbert, we were all out of our wits in't; I was so mad at that time my self. I could have wish'd an hind-quarter of my Bull out of your belly again, whereas now I care not if you had eat tail and all; I am no niggard in the way of friendship, I was ever yet at Full Moon in good fellowship, and so you shall finde, if you look into the Almanack of my true nature.

Sir Gilb.

Well all's forgiven for once, hands a­pace, Gentlemen.

Weath.

Ye shall have two of mine to do you a kindness,—yet when they're both abroad, who shall look to th' house here?

Pep. Overd.

Not onely a new friendship, but a friend.

Sir Gilb.
But upon this condition Gentlemen
You shall hear now a thing worth your revenge.
Weath.

And you doubt that,

You shall have mine before-hand, I've one ready, I never go without a black Oath about me.

Sir Gilb.
I know the least touch of a spur in this
Will now put your desires to a false gallop,
By all means slandrous in every place,
And in all companies, to disgrace the Widow,
No matter in what rank, so it be spightful
And worthy your revenges; so now I,
It shall be all my study, care, and pains,
And we can lose no labor; all her foes
Will make such use on't, that they'll snatch it from us
Faster then we can forge it; though we keep
Four tongues at work upon't and never cease.
Then for the indifferent world, faith they're apter
To bid a slave welcome, then a truth;
We have the odds of our side: this in time
[Page 69]May grow so general, as disgrace will spred,
That wilde dissention may divide the bed.
Weath.

Pep. Excellent!

Overd.

A pure revenge, I see no dregs in't.

Sir Gilb.
Let each man look to his part now, and not feed
Upon one dish all four on's, like plain Maltmen;
For at this feast we must have several kickshaws,
And delicate made dishes, that the world
May see it is a Banquet finely furnish'd.
Weath.
Why then let me alone for one of your kickshaws.
I have thought on that already.
Sir Gilb.

Prethee how Sir?

Weath.

Marry Sir I'll give it out abroad, that I have lain with the Widow my self, as 'tis the fashion of many a gallant to disgrace his new Mistress, when he cannot have his will of her, and lie with her name in every Tavern, though he ne'r came within a yard of her person; so I being a Gentleman, may say as much in that kinde as a gallant; I am as free by my Fathers copy.

Sir Gilb.

This will do excellent Sir!

Weath.

And moreover I'll give the world thus much to understand beside that, if I had not lain with the Widow in the wain of the Moon, at one of my Seven Stars houses, when Venus was about busi­ness of her own, and could give no attendance, she had been brought a bed with two roaring boys by this time, and the Gemini being Infants, I'd have made away with them like a step-mother, and put mine own boys in their places.

Sir Gilb.

Why this is beyond talk, you out-run your Master.

[Page 70]Enter Clown.
Clow.

Whoop! draw home next time; here are all the old shooters, that have lost the game at pricks? what a fair mark had Sir Gilbert on't, if he had shot home before the last Arrow came in? methinks these show to me now, for all the world, like so many lousie beggars turn'd out of my Ladies Barn, and have ne'r a hole to put their heads in.

Weath.

Mass here's her Ladiships Ass, he tells us any thing.

Sir Gilb.

Ho Pickadille!

Clow.
What Sir Gilbert Lambston!
Gentlemen, Out-laws all, how do you do?
Sir Gilb.
How! what do'st call us? how goes the world at home Lad?
What strange news?
Clow.

This is the state of prodigals as right as can be, when they have spent all their means on brave feasts, their glad to scrape to a serving-man for a meals meat.

So you that whilome like four prodigal rivals,
Could Goose or Capon, Crane or Woodcock chuse,
Now're glad to make up a poor meal with news;
A lamentable hearing!
Weath.

He's in passion;—up to the Eyebrows for us.

Clow.

O Mr Weatherwise, I blame none but you;—you are a Gentleman deeply read in Ponds Al­manack;—methinks you should not be such a shal­low fellow; you knew this day the twelf of June would come when the Sun enters into the Crabs room, and all your hopes would go aside, aside.

Weath.

The fool says true y'faith Gentlemen, I [Page 71] knew 'twould come all to this pass, I'll show't you presently.

Clow.
If you had spar'd but four of your twelve Signs now,
You might have gone to a Tavern and made merry with 'em.
Weath.

H'as the best Moral meaning of an Ass, that ere I heard speak with tongue: Look you here Gentlemen; fifth day neither Fish nor Flesh.

Clow.

No, nor good Red-herring, and you look again.

Weath.

Sixth day privily prevented.

Clow.

Marry faugh.

Weath.

Seventh day shrunk in the wetting.

Clow.

Nay, so will the best Ware bought for love or money.

Weath.

The eighth day over head and ears.

Clow.

By my faith he come home in a sweet pickle then!

Weath.

The ninth day, scarce sound at heart.

Clow.

What a pox ail'd it?

Weath.

The tenth day a Courtiers welcome.

Clow.

That's a cup of Bear, and you can get it.

Weath.

The eleventh day, stones against the wind.

Clow.

Pox of an Ass, he might have thrown 'em better.

Weath.

Now the twelf day Gentlemen, that was our day.—Past all redemption.

Clow.

Then the Devil go with't.

Weath.
Now you see plainly Gentlemen how we're us'd,
The Kalender will not lie for no mans pleasure.
Sir Gilb.

Push, y'are too confident in Almanack Posies.

Peppert.

Faith so said we.

Sir Gilb:

They're meer delusions.

Weath.
[Page 72]

How!—You see how knavishly they happen Sir.

Sir Gilb.

I, that's because they're foolishly bely'd Sir.

Weath.

Well, take your courses Gentlemen with­out 'em, and see what will come on't▪ you may wan­der like masterless-men, there's ne'r a Planet will [...]are a half-penny for you: If they look after you I'll be hang'd, when you scorn to bestow two pence to look after them.

Sir Gilb.

How! a device at the wedding say'st thou!

Clow.

Why? have none of you heard of that yet?

Sir Gilb.

'Tis the first news y'faith Lad.

Clow.

Oh there's a brave travelling Schollar en­tertain'd into the house a purpose; one that has been all the world over, and some part of Jerusalem; h'as his Chamber, his dyet, and three Candles allow'd him after Supper.

Weath.

By my faith he need not complain for victuals then, what ere he be.

Clow.

He lies in one of the best Chambers i'th' house, bravely matted; and to warm his wits as much, a cup of Sack and an Aqua Vitae Bottle stands just at his elbow.

Weath.

He's shroudly hurt by my faith; if he catch an Ague of that fashion, I'll be hang'd.

Clow.

He'll come abroad anon.

Sir Gilb.

Art sure on't?

Clow.

Why he ne'r stays a quarter of an hour in the house together:

Sir Gilb▪

No; how can he study then?

Clow.

Pha best of all; he talks as he goes, and writes as he runs, besides you know 'tis death to a traveller to stand long in one place.

Sir Gilb.
[Page 73]
It may hit right boys!—Honest Pick­adille
Thou wast wont to love me.
Clow.

I'd good cause Sir then.

Sir Gilb.

Thou shalt have the same still, take that.

Clow.

Will you believe me now; I ne'r lov'd you better in my life, then I do at this present.

Sir Gilb.
Tell me now truly; who are the Pre­senters?
What Parsons are employed in the Device?
Clow.

Parsons! not any Sir; my Mistress will not be at the charge; she keeps none but an old Welsh Vicar.

Sir Gilb.

Prethee, I mean, who be the Speakers?

Clow.

Troth I know none, but those that open their mouths: Here he comes now himself, you may ask him.

Enter Mr Beveril▪
Weath▪

Is this he? by my faith one may pick a Gentleman out of his Calves, and a Schollar out on's Cheeks; one may see by his looks what's in him; I warrant you there has ne'r a new Almanack come out these douzen years, but he has studied it over and over.

Sir Gilb.

Do not reveal us now.

Clow.

Because you shall be sure on't, you have gi­ven me a nine-pence here, and I'll give you the slip for't.

Exit.
Sir Gilb.

Well said; now the Fool's pleas'd, we may be bold.

Bev.
Love is as great an enemy to Wit,
As Ignorance to Art; I finde my powers
So much employ'd in business of my heart,
That all the time's too little to dispatch
Affairs within me.—Fortune too remiss
[Page 74]I suffer for thy slowness, had I come
Before a Vow had chain'd their souls together,
There might have been some hope, though ne'r so little:
Now there's no spark at all, nor ere can be,
But dreadful ones struck from Adultery;
And if my Lust were smothered with her will,
Oh who could wrong a Gentleman so kinde,
A stranger made up with a Brothers minde?
Sir Gilb.
Peace, peace, enough, let me alone to manage it.
A quick invention, and a happy one
Reward your study Sir.
Bev.

Gentlemen I thank you.

Sir Gilb.
We understand your wits are in em­ployment Sir,
In honor of this wedding.
Bev.
Sir, the Gentleman
To whom that worthy Lady is betroth'd,
Vouchsafes t'accept the power of my good will in't▪
Sir Gilb.
I pray resolve us then Sir, for we're friends
That love and honor her.
Sir Gilb.
Whether your number be yet full, or no,
Of those which you make choice of for Presenters.
Bev.
First, 'tis so brief, because the time is so,
We shall not trouble many; and for those
We shall employ, the house will yeild in servants▪
Sir Gilb.
Nay then under your leave and favor Sir,
Since all your pains will be so weakly grac'd,
And wanting due performance lose their lustre;
Here are four of us Gentlemen, her friends▪
Both lovers of her honor, and your Art,
That would be glad so to express our selves,
And think our service well, and worthily plac'd.
Bev.
[Page 75]
My thanks do me no grace for this large kindness,
You make my labors proud of such Presenters.
Sir Gilb.
She shall not think Sir, she's so ill be­lov'd,
But friends can quickly make that number perfect.
Bev.

She's bound t'acknowledge it.

Sir Gilb.
Onely thus much Sir,
Which will amaze her most; I'd hav't so carried,
As you can do't, that neither she, nor none
Should know what friends we were till all were done.
Weath.

I that would make the sport.

Bev.
I like it well Sir;
My hand and faith amongst you Gentlemen,
It shall be so disposed of.
Sir Gilb.

We are the men then.

Bev.
Then look you Gentlemen, the Device is single,
Naked, and plain, because the time's so short,
And gives no freedom to a wealthier sport;
'Tis onely Gentlemen, the four Elements
In liveliest forms, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire.
Weath.

Mass and here's four of us too.

Bev.
It fits well Sir.
This the effect, That whereas all those four
Maintain a natural opposition
And untruc'd war, the one against the other,
To shame their ancient Envies they should see
How well in two brests all these do agree:
Weath.

That's in the Bride and Bridegroom; I am quick Sir.

Sir Gilb.

In faith it's pritty Sir, I approve it well.

Bev.
But see how soon my happiness, and your kindness
Is crost together.
Sir Gilb.

Crost! I hope not so Sir.

Bev:
[Page 76]

I can employ but two of you.

Peppert.

How comes that Sir?

Bev.
Air and the Fire should be by me presented,
But the two other in the forms of women.
Weath.
Nay, then we're gone again: I think these women
Were made to vex and trouble us in all shapes.
Sir Gilb.

Faith Sir you stand too nicely.

Weath.

So think I Sir.

Bev.
Yet when we tax our selves, it may the better
Set off our Errors, when the fine eyes judge 'em;
But water certainly should be a woman.
Weath.

By my faith then he is gelded since I saw him last; he was thought to be a man once, when he got his wife with childe before he was married.

Bev.

Fie, you are fishing in an other stream Sir.

Weath.

But now I come to yours, and you go to that Sir; I see no reason then but Fire and Water should change shapes and genders.

Bev.

How prove you that Sir?

Weath.

Why there's no reason but Water should be a man, because Fire is commonly known to be a Quean.

Bev.

So Sir, you argue well.

Weath.

Nay more Sir, Water will break in at a lit­tle crevice, so will a man if he be not kept out; Wa­ter will undermine▪ so will an Informer; Water will ebb and flow, so will a Gentleman; Water will search any place, and so will a Constable, as lately he did at my Seven Stars for a yong Wench that was stole; Water will quench Fire, and so will Wat the Barber▪ Ergo, Let Water wear a Codpeece-point.

Bev.

Faith Gentlemen I like your company well.

Weath

Let's see who'll dispute with me at the Full o'th' Moon▪

Bev.
[Page 77]

No Sir; and you be vain glorious of your Talent, I'll put you to't once more.

Weath.

I'm for you Sir, as long as the Moon keeps in this quarter.

Bev.

Well, how answer you this then? Earth and Water are both bearers; therefore they should be women.

Weath:

Why so are Porters and Pedlers, and yet they are known to be men.

Bev.

I'll give you over in time Sir, I shall repent the bestowing on't else.

Weath.

If I that have proceeded in five and twenty such Books of Astronomy, should not be a­ble to put down a Schollar now in One thousand six hundred thirty and eight, the Dominical Letter be­ing G, I stood for a Goose.

Sir Gilb.
Then this will satisfie you though that be a woman;
Oceanus, the Sea, that's chief of Waters,
He wears the form of a man, and so may you.
Bev.

Now I hear reason, and I may consent.

Sir Gilb.
And so, though Earth challenge a Femi­nine face▪
The matter of which Earth consists, that's dust,
The general soul of Earth is of both kindes.
Bev.
Fit your selves Gentlemen, I've enough for me.
Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, part 'em amongst you▪
Weath.

Let me play fair, I was my Fathers eldest son.

Bev.

I but this Air never possest the Lands▪

Weath.

I'm but dispos'd to jest with you Sir; 'tis the same my Almanack speaks on, is't not?

Bev.

That 'tis Sir.

Weath.

Then leave it to my discretion, to fit both the part and the person.

Bev.
[Page 78]

You shall have your desire Sir.

Sir Gilb.
We'll agree
Without your trouble now Sir, we're not factious,
Or envy one another for best parts;
Like quarrelling Actors that have passionate fits,
We submit always to the Writers wits.
Bev.
He that commends you, may do't liberally,
For you deserve as much as praise can show.
Sir Gilb.

We'll send to you privately.

Bev.

I'll dispatch you.

Sir Gilb.

We'll poyson your device.

Exit.
Peppert.
She must have pleasures,
Shows and conceits, and we disgraceful doom.
Weath.

We'll make your Elements come limping home.

Exeunt.
Bev.
How happy am I in this unlook'd for grace,
This voluntary kindness from these Gentlemen!
'Twill set off all my labors far more pleasing
Before the Widow, whom my heart calls Mistress,
But my tongue dares not second it.
Enter Mrs Lowwater and her Man-husband.
Mr Low.

How say you now Kate?

Mrs Low.

I like this Musick well Sir▪

Bev.
O unfortunate!
Yet though a Tree be guarded from my touch,
There's none can hinder me to love the fruit.
Mrs Low.

Nay, now we know your minde Bro­ther, we'll provide for you.

Exit.
Bev.
O were it but as free as late times knew it▪
I would deserve, it all lifes wealth could do it.
Exit.

Act 4.

Scaen 1.

Enter at Sir Oliver's house, himself, old Sunset, his redeemed Lady, Master Sandfield, the Dutch Merchant, Philip Sir Oliver's Son, and Savorwit alooff off, and Servants.
Sir Oliv.
O My reviving joy! thy quickning pre­sence
Makes the sad night of threescore and ten years
Sit like a youthful Spring upon my blood:
I cannot make thy welcome rich enough
With all the wealth of words.
Moth.
It is exprest Sir
With more then can be equal'd; the ill store
Lies onely on my side, my thanks are poor.
Sir Ol.
Blest be the goodness of his minde for ever,
That did redeem thy life, may it return
Upon his fortunes double! that worthy Gentleman,
Kinde Mr Beveril! showre upon him, Heaven,
Some unexpected happiness to requite him!
For that my joys unlook'd for;—O more kinde,
And juster far is a meer strangers goodness
Then the sophistick faith of natural sons.
Here's one could juggle with me, take up the ransom,
He and his loose companion.
Sav.
Say you me so Sir?
I'll eat hard Eggs for that t [...]ick:
Sir Ol.
Spend the money▪
And bring me home false news, and empty pockets:
In that yong gallants tongue there you were dead▪
Ten weeks before this day, had not this Merchant
[Page 80]Brought first the truth in words, your self in sub­stance.
Moth.
Pray let me stay you here, ere you proceed Sir;
Did he report me dead say you?
Sir Ol.

Else you live not.

Moth.
See now Sir, you may lay your blame too rashly,
When no body look'd after it; let me tell you Sir,
A Fathers anger should take great advice,
Ere it condemn flesh of so dear a price.
He's no way guilty yet for that report
The general tongue of all the Countrey spred;
For being remov'd 'far off, I was thought dead.
Phil.
Can my faith now be taken into favor Sir?
Is't worthy to be trusted?
Sav.

No by my troth is't not; 'twould make shift to spend another ransom yet.

Sir Ol.
Well Sir, I must confess y'ave here dealt well with me;
And what is good in you, I love again.
Sav.
Now am I half ways in, just to the girdle,
But the worst part's behinde.
Sir Ol.
Marry I fear me Sir,
This weather is too glorious to hold long.
Moth.
I see no cloud to interpose it Sir,
If you place confidence in what I have told you.
Sir Ol.
Nay 'tis clear skie on that side, would 'twere so
All over his obedience; I see that,
And so does this good Gentleman.
Moth,

Do you Sir?

Sir Ol.

That makes his honesty doubtful.

Moth.
I pray speak Sir,
The truth of your last kindness makes me bold with you.
Dutch M.
[Page 81]
The Knight your husband, Madam, can best speak▪
He trul [...]est can show griefs whose heart they break.
Moth.
I'm sorry yet for more, pray let me know't Sir,
That I may help to chide him, though 'twould grieve me.
Sir Ol.
Why then prepare for't; you came over now
In the best time to do't you could pick out:
Not onely spent my money, but to blinde me,
He and his wicked Instrument
Sav.

Now he fiddles me

Sir Ol.
Brings home a Minion here, by great chance known;
Told me she was his sister, she proyes none.
Moth.
This was unkindly done Sir; now I'm sorry
My good opinion lost it self upon you;
You are not the same son I left behinde me,
More grace took him.—O let me end in time,
For fear I should forget my self, and chide him!
Where is he Sir? though he beguil'd your eyes,
He cannot deceive mine; we're now too hard for him.
For since our first unfortunate separation.
I've often seen the Girl (would that were true)
By many a happy accident, many a one;
But never durst acknowledge her for mine own,
And therein stood my joys distrest again.
Sir Ol.

You rehearse miseries wife! call the Maid down.

Sav.
She's been too often down to be now called so;
She'll lie down shortly, and call some body up.
Moth.
He's now to deal with one Sir that knows truth;
[Page 82]He must be sham'd or quit, there's no mean saves him.
Sir Ol.

I hear her come.

Moth.
You see how hard 'tis now
To redeem good opinion being once gone;
Be careful then, and keep it when 'tis won.
Now see me take a poyson with great joy,
Which but for thy sake, I should swoun to touch.
Enter Grace.
Grace.
What new affliction? am I set to sale
For any one that bids most shame for me?
Sir Ol.

Look you? do you see what stuff they've brought me home here?

Moth.
Oh bless her eternal powers! my life, my comforts,
My nine years grief, but everlasting joy now!
Thrice welcome to my heart; 'tis she indeed.
Sir Ol.

What is it?

Phil.

I'm unfit to carry a ransom.

Sav.
Down on your knees to save your Belly harmless;
Ask blessing, though you never mean to use it,
But give't away presently to a Beggar-wench:
Phil.

My faith is blemish'd, I'm no man of trust Sir.

Moth.

Rise with a Mothers blessing.

Sav.

All this while sh'as rise with a sons.

Sir Ol.
But soft ye, soft ye wife!
I pray take heed you place your blessing right now.
This honest Dutchman here told me he saw her
At Antwerp in an Inn.
Moth.

True, she was so Sir.

Dutch M.
Sir, 'tis my quality; what I speak once,
I affirm ever; in that Inn I saw her,
[Page 77]That lets her not to be your daughter now?
Sir Ol.

Oh Sir, is't come to that!

Suns.

Here's joys ne'r dreamt on!

Sir Ol.
O Mr Sunset, I am at the rising
Of my refulgent happiness! now son Sandfield,
Once more and ever!
Sandf.

I am proud on't Sir.

Sir Ol.

Pardon me boy, I have wrong'd thy faith too much.

Sav.

Now may I leave my shell, and peep my head forth.

Sir Ol.
Where is this Savorwit, that honest whore­son?
That I may take my curse from his knaves shoulders.
Sav.
O Sir, I feel you at my very blade here,
Your curse is ten stone weight, and a pound over.
Sir Ol.

Come, thou'rt a witty Varlet, and a trusty.

Sav.
You shall still finde me a poor faithful fel­low Sir,
If you have another ransome to send over,
Or daughter to finde out.
Sir Ol.
I'll do thee right boy;
I ne'r yet knew thee but speak honest English,
Marry in Dutch I found thee a knave lately.
Sav.
That was to hold you but in play a little,
Till farther truths came over, and I strong;
You shall ne'r finde me a knave in mine own tongue▪
I have more grace in me, I go out of England
Still when I take such courses; that shows modesty Sir.
Sir Ol.
Any thing full of wit, and void of harm,
I give thee pardon for, so was that now.
Sav.
Faith now I'm quit, I finde my self the nim­bler
To serve you so again, and my will's good▪
[Page 84]Like one that lately shook off his old Irons,
And cuts a purse at Bench, to deserve new ones.
Sir Ol.
Since it holds all the way so fortunate still,
And strikes so even with my first belief,
This is the Gentleman wife, yong Mr Sandfield here,
A man of worthy parts beside his Lands,
Whom I make choice of for my daughters Bed▪
Sav.

But he'll make choice there of another Bed­fellow.

Moth.

I wish 'em both the happiness of love Sir.

Sir Ol.
'Twas spoke like a good Lady—
And your memory can reach it wife; but 'tis so long ago too.
Old Mr Sunset he had a yong daughter
When you unluckily left England so,
And much about the age of our Girl there;
For both were nurs'd together.
Moth.
'Tis so fresh
In my remembrance, now y'have wakned it,
As if twelve years were but a twelve hours dream.
Sir Ol.
That Girl is now a proper Gentlewoman,
As fine a body wife, as ere was measured
With an Indenture cut in farthing steaks.
Suns.
O say not so Sir Oliver, you shall pardon me Sir.
Y'faith Sir you are too blame.
Sir Ol.
Sings, dances, plays,
Touches an Instrument with a Motherly Grace.
Suns.

'Tis your own daughter that you mean that by.

Sav.

There's open Dutch indeed, and he could take it▪

Sir Ol.

This wench under your leave▪

Suns.

You have my love in't.

Sir Ol.

Is my sons wife that shall be.

Sav.
[Page 85]
Thus I'd hold with't;
Is your sons wife that should be Mr Sandfields?
Moth.

I come in happy time to a feast of marri­ages.

Sir. Ol.
And now you put's i'th' minde, the hour draws on
At the new married Widows there we're look'd for;
There will be entertainments, sports, and banquets;
There these yong lovers shall clap hands together,
The seed of one feast shall bring forth another.
Suns.

Well said Sir Oliver.

Sir Ol.
Y'are a stranger Sir,
Your welcome will be best.
Dutch M.

Good Sir excuse me:

Sir Ol.

You shall along y'faith, you must not re­fuse me.

Exit.
Manent Mother, Sister, Philip, and Savorwit.
Phil.
O Mother! these new joys that sets my soul up,
Which had no means, nor any hope of any,
Has brought me now so far in debt to you,
I know not which way to begin to thank you▪
I am so lost in all, I cannot ghess
Which of the two my service most constrains,
Your last kinde goodness, or your first deer pains.
Moth.
Love is a Mothers duty to a son,
As a sons duty is both love and fear.
Sav.
I ow you a poor life Madam, that's all;
Pray call for't when you please, it shall be ready for you.
Moth.

Make much on't Sir till then.

Sav.

If Butter'd Sack will—

Moth.
Me thinks the more I look upon her son,
The more thy sisters face runs in my minde.
Phil.

Belike she's somewhat like her—It makes the better Madam.

Moth.
[Page 86]

Was Antwerp, say you, the first place you found her in?

Phil

Yes Madam: Why do you ask?

Moth.

Whose daughter were you?

Grace▪

I know not rightly whose, to speak truth Madam.

Sav.

The Mother of her was a good twigger the whilst.

Moth.

No: with whom were you brought up then?

Grace.
With those Madam▪
To whom ( [...]'ve often heard) the enemy sold me.
Moth.

What's that?

Grace.
Too often have I heard this piteous story
Of a distressed Mother I had once▪
Whose comfortable sight I lost at Sea▪
But then the years of childhood took from me
Both the remembrance of her, and the sorrows.
Moth.
Oh I begin to feel her in my blood!
My heart leaps to be at her;—What was that Mo­ther?
Grace.

Some said an English Lady;—But I know not.

Moth.

What's thy name?

Grace.

Grace.

Moth.
May it be so in Heaven,
For thou art mine on Earth; welcome dear childe
Unto thy Fathers house, thy Mothers arms,
After thy forein sorrows.
Sav.

'Twill prove gallant!

Moth:
What son! such earnest work—I bring thee joy now
Will make the rest show nothing, 'tis so glorious.
Phil.
Why 'tis not possible, Madam, that mans happiness
Should take a greater height then mine aspires.
Moth:
[Page 87]
No, now you shall confess it, this shall quit thee
From all fears present, or hereafter doubts
About this business—
Phil.

Give me that sweet Mother.

Moth.
Here take her then, and set thine arms a work,
There needs no 'fection, 'tis indeed thy sister:
Phil.

My sister!

Sav.

Cuds me, I feel the razor!

Moth.

Why, how now son? how comes a change so soon?

Phil.
Oh, I beseech you Mother, wound me any where,
But where you pointed last: That's present death.
Devise some other miserable torment,
Though ne'r so pittiless, and I'll run and meet it.
Some way more merciful let your goodness think on▪
May steal away my joys, but save my soul;
I'll willingly restore back every one
Upon that milde condition any thing
But what you spake last, will be comfortable.
Moth.
Y'are troubled with strange fits in England here▪
Your first suit to me did entreat me hardly,
To say 'twas she, to have old wrath appeas'd;
And now 'tis known your sister, y'are not pleas'd▪
How should I show my self!
Phil.

Say 'tis not she.

Moth▪

Shall I deny my daughter?

Phil.
O you kill me,
Beyond all tortures!
Moth.

Why do you deal thus with me!

Phil.
She is my wife, I married her at Antwerp;
I have known the way unto her Bed these three moneths.
Sav.
[Page 88]

And that's too much by twelve weeks for a sister.

Moth.

I understand you now, too soon, too plain.

Phil.
O Mother▪ if you love my peace for ever,
Examine her again, finde me not guilty.
Moth.

'Tis now too late, her words make that too true.

Phil.
Her words! shall bare words overthrow a soul?
A body is not cast away so lightly.
How can you know 'tis she? let Sense decide it,
She then so yong, and both so long divided.
Moth.

She tells me the sad story.

Phil.
Does that throw me?
Many a distress may have the face of yours,
Tha [...] never was kin to you.
Moth.
But however Sir,
I trust you are not married.
Phil.
Here's the witness,
And all the wealth I had with her; this Ring
That joyn'd our hearts together.
Moth
Oh too clear now!
Thou [...] brought in evidence to o'rthrow thy self,
Had no one word been spoke onely this shown
T'had been enough to approv'd her for mine own;
See here two Letters that begun my name,
Before I knew thy Father this I gave her,
And as a Jewel fastned to her ear.
Grace.
Pardon me Mother▪ that you finde it stray,
I kept it till I gave my heart away.
Phil.
Oh to what Mountain shall I take my flight,
To hide the monster of my sin from sight!
Sav.
I'll to Wales presently, there's the best Hills
To hide a poor knave in.
Moth.
Oh heap not desperation upon guilt!
Repent yet, and all's sav'd; 'twas but hard chance;
[Page 89]Amongst all sins, Heaven pities ignorance,
She's still the first that has her pardon sign'd,
All sins else see their faults, she's onely blinde.
Go to thy Chamber, pray, leave off▪ and win,
One hours repentance cures a twelve moneths sin.
Exit cum Filia.
Grace.

O my distressed husband, my dear Brother!

Phil.
O Savorwit! never came sorrow yet
To mankinde like it; I'm so far distrest,
I've no time left to give my heart attendance,
Too little all to wait upon my soul!
Before this empest came, how well I stood,
Full in the beams of blessedness and joy!
The memory of man, could never say
So black a storm fell in so bright a day:
I am that man that ev'n life surfeits of;
Or if to live, unworthy to be seen
By the savage eye-sight, give's thy hand;
Commend me to thy prayers.
Sav

Next time I say 'em

Phil
Farewel my honest brest, that cravest no more
Then possible kindness, that I've found thee large in,
And I must ask no more; there Wit must stay,
It cannot pass, where Fate stops up the way.
Joy thrive with thee; I'll never see thee more.
Sav
What's that Sir! pray come back, and bring those words with you,
You shall not carry 'em so out of my company:
There's no last refuge, when your Father knows it;
There's no such need on't yet, stay but till then,
And take one with you that will imitate you
In all the desperate On-sets man dare think on.
Were it to challenge all the Wolves in France,
To meet at one set battel, I'ld be your half in't.
All Beasts of Venome,—what you had a minde to,
[Page 90]Your part should be took still: For such a day
Let's keep our selves in heart, then am I for you.
In the mean time to beat off all suspition,
Let's to the Bridehouse too—here's my Petition.
Phil.
Thou hast a learning art when all hopes flie;
Let one night waste, there's time enough left to die.
Sav.
A minute's as good as a thousand year Sir,
To p [...]nk a mans heart like a Summer suit.
Exeunt.
Enter two or three Servants placing things in order, with Pickadille the Clown like an Overseer.
Clow.

Bestir your bones nimbly, you Ponderous Beef-buttock'd Knaves; what a number of lazy Hindes do I keep company withal? where's the flesh­colour Velvet Cushion now, for my Ladies Pease­porridge-tawny Sattin-bum? you attendants upon Revels!

1 Serv

You can prate and domineer well, because you have a priviledge place; but I'd fain see you set your hand to't.

Clow.

O base bone-pickers, I set my hand to't! when did you ere see a Gentleman set his hand to any thing, unless it were to a sheep-skin, and receive a hundred pound for his pains.

2 Serv.

And afterward lie in the Counter for his pleasure.

Clow.

Why true, Sir, 'tis for his pleasure indeed; for spight of all their teeths, he may lie i'th' Hole when he list.

1 Serv.

Marry and should for me.

Clow.

I, thou wouldst make as good a Baud as the best Jailor of them all; I know that.

1 Serv.

How? Fool!

Clow.

Hark! I must call you Knave within, 'tis but staying somewhat the longer for't.

Exeunt.
[Page 91]Loud Mufick. Enter the new married Widow, and Kate her Husband, both changed in Apparel, Arm in arm together; after them Sir Oliver Twilight, Mr Sunset, and the Dutch Merchant; after them the Mother, Grace the daughter sad, with Jane Sunset; after these, melancholy Philip, Savorwit, and Mr Sand­field.
Mrs Low.

This fair Assembly is most freely wel­come.

All.

Sir Ol Thanks to you good Sir.

Wid.
Come my long wisht for Madam,
You and this worthy stranger take best welcome,
Your freedom is a second feast to me.
Mrs Low.

How is't with my brother?

Mr Low.
The fit holds him still;
Nay, Love's more violent.
Mrs Low.
'Lass poor Gentleman! I would he had my office without money;
If he should offer any, I'd refuse it.
Mr Low.
I have the Letter ready:
He's worthy of a place that knows how to use it.
Mrs Low.

That's well said,—Come Ladies, Gentlemen; Sir Oliver, good, seat your selves; shall we be found unreadiest?—What is you Gentleman with the Funeral-face there? me thinks that look does ill become a Bride-house?

Sir Oliv.
Who does your worship mean Sir? my son Philip?
I am sure he had ne'r less reason to be sad:
Why are you sad son Philip?
Phil.
How Sir, sad!
You shall not finde it so Sir.
Sav:
[Page 92]

Take heed he do not then—You must be­ware how you carry your face in this company; as far as I can see, that yong Bridegroom has Hauks-eyes, he'll go nigh to spell sister in your face, if your Nose were but crooked enough to serve for an S. he'd finde an eye presently, and then he has more light for the rest.

Phil.

I'll learn then to dissemble.

Sav.

Nay and you be to learn that now, you'll ne'r sit in a Brancht Velvet-gown as long as you live; you should have took that at Nurse, before your Mother wean'd you; so do all those that prove great children, and batten well: Peace, here comes a Schol­lar indeed, he has learnt it I warrant you.

Enter Mr Beveril with a Pastboord.
Wid.

Kinde Sir, your welcome, you take all the pains Sir.

Bev.

I wish they were but worthy of the grace Of your fair presence, and this choice Assembly. Here is an abstract, Madam, of what's shown, Which I commend to your Favor.

Wid.

Thank you for't Sir.

Bev.

I would I durst present my love as boldly:

Mrs Low.

My honest Brother!

Wid.

Look thee here Sweet-heart.

Mrs Low.

What's there sweet Madam?

Bev.

Musick, and we're ready.

Loud Musick a while.

A Thing like a Globe opens of one side o'th' Stage, and flashes out Fire, then Sir Gilbert that pre­sents the part, issues forth with Yellow-hair and Beard, intermingled with stroaks like wilde flames, a three [Page 93] forked Fire in's hand; and at the same time Air comes down, hanging by a cloud, with a Coat made like an Almanack, all the Twelve Moons set in it, and the Four Quarters, Winter, Spring, Summer, and Au­tumn, with change of Weathers, Rain, Lightning, and Tempest, &c.

And from under the Stage at both ends, arises Wa­ter and Earth, two persons; Water with green flags upon his head, standing up instead of hair; and a Beard of the same, with a Chain of Pearl. Earth with a number of little things like Trees, like a thick Grove upon his head, and a wedg of Gold in his hand, his Gar­ment of a Clay colour.

The Fire speaking first, the Schollar stands behinde, give's him the first word, which he now fol­lows.

Bev.

The Flame of Zeal—

FIRE.
Sir Gilb.
The wicked Fire of Lust▪
Does now spred heat through Water, Air, and Dust.
Bev.

How? he's out in the beginning—The Wheel of Time.

Weath.

The Devil set Fire o'th' Distaff.

Sir Gilb.
I that was wont in elder times to pass
For a bright Angel, so they cal'd me then,
Now so corrupted with the upstart Fires
Of Avarice, Luxury, and Inconstant heats,
Struck from the bloods of cunning Clap- [...]aln Daugh­ters,
Night-walking Wives, but most libidinous Widows,
That I that purifie ev'n Gold it self,
Have the contemptible Dross thrown in my face,
And my bright name walk common in disgrace.
How am I us'd alate, that I am so handled,
Thrust into Alleys, Hospitals, and Tubs!
[Page 94]I was once a name of comfort, warm'd great houses
When Charity was Landlord, I have given welcome
To forty Russet Yeomen at a time,
In a fair Christmas-Hall. How am I chang'd!
The Chimneys are swept up, the Hearth as cold
As the Fore-fathers Charity in the Sun.
All the good hospitable heat now turns
To my yong Landlords Lust, and there it burns.
Rich Widows that were wont to chuse by Gravity
Their second Husbands, not by tricks of Blood,
Are now so taken with lose Aretine Flames
Of nimble wantonness, and high-fed Pride,
They marry now but the third part of Husbands,
Boys, smooth fac'd Katamites, to fulfil their Bed,
As if a woman should a woman wed.
These are the Fires alate, my brightness darks,
And fills the world so full of beggerly Sparks,
Bev.

Heat! how am I disgrac'd? what rogue should this be?

Wid.

By my faith Monsieur Fire, y'are a hot whore­son.

Mrs Low.
I fear my Brother is beside his wits,
He would not be so senseless to rail thus else.
AIR.
Weath.
After this heat, you Madams, fat and fair,
Open your Casements wide, and take in Air;
But not that Air false women make up oaths with.
No, nor that Air gallants perfume their cloaths with;
I am that Air that keeps about the Clouds,
None of my Kinred was smelt out in Crouds,
Not any of our house was ever tainted,
When many a thousand of our foes have fainted.
Yet some there are that be my cheif poluters,
Widows that falsifie their Faith to Suiters,
And will give fair words when the Signs in Cancer▪
[Page 95]But at the next remove a scurvy answer,
Come to the poor mens houses, eat their Banquet,
And at night, with a Boy tost in a Blanquet.
Nay, shall I come more near? Perhaps at noon,
For here I finde a spot full in the Moon.
I know youths trick, what's she that can withstand it,
When Mercury raigns, my Ladies Chamber Planet?
He that believes a Widows words shall fail,
When Venus Gown-skirts sweeps the Dragons tail.
Fair weather the first day she makes to any,
The second cloudy, and the third day rainy;
The fourth day a great storm, Lightning, and Thun­der;
A Bolt strikes the Suitor, a Boy keeps her under.
Bev.
Life! these are some counterfeit slaves crept in their rooms,
A purpose for disgrace: they shall all share with me.
Heart! who the Devil should these be?
Exit Beveril.
Wid.
My faith Gentlemen,
Air has perfum'd the room well.
Sir Ol.

So me thinks, Madam.

Sav.
A man may smell her meaning two rooms off,
Though his Nose wanted Reparations,
And the Bridge left at Shoreditch as a Pledge
For Rosa Solace, in a Bleaking-house.
Mrs Low.

Life! what should be his meaning in't?

Mr Low.

I wonder.

WATER.
Overd.
Me thinks this room should yet retain such heat,
Struck out from the first Ardor, and so glow yet,
You should desire my company, w [...]sh for Water▪
[Page 96]That offers here to serve your several Pipes,
Without constriant of Mill, or death of Water­house.
What if I sprinkled on the Widows Cheeks
A few cool drops to l [...]y the guilty heat,
That fl [...]shes from her Conscience to her face;
Would't not refresh her shame? From such as she
I first took weakness and inconstancy;
I sometimes swell above my banks and spred;
They're commonly with childe, before they're wed:
In me the Syrens sing before they play,
In her more witchcraft, for her smiles betray;
Where I'm lest seen, there my most danger lies,
So in those parts hid most from a mans eyes:
Her heart, her love, or what may be more close,
I know no mercy, she thinks that no loss:
In her poor gallants, Pirats thrive in me;
I help to cast away, and so does she.
Wid.
Nay, and you can hold nothing sweet Sir Water,
I'll wash my hands a'you, ever hereafter.
EARTH.
Peppert.
Earth stands for a Full-point, me you should hire
To stop the gaps of Water, Air and Fire;
I love muck well, but your first husband better.
Above his soul he lov'd it as his end
Did fearfully witness it; at his last gasp
His spirit fl [...]m'd, as it forsook his Brest,
And left the sparkles quarrelling 'bout his Lips:
Now of such Mettal the Devil makes him Whips.
He shall have Gold enough to glut his Soul;
And as for Earth, I'll stop his Cranes-throat full.
The wealth he left behinde him, most men know,
He wrung inconscionably from the rights
Of poor mens livings, he drunk dry their brows.
[Page 97]That Liquor has a curse, yet nothing sweeter;
When your posterity drinks, then 'twill taste bit­ter.
Sir Gilb.
And now to vex, 'gainst Nature, Form, Rule, Place,
See once four waiting Elements all embrace.
Enter four at several corners, addrest like the four Winds, with Wings, &c. and dance all to the Drum and Fiff; the four Elements seem to give back, and stand in amaze; the South wind has a great red face, the North wind a pale bleak one, the Western wind one cheek red, and another white, and so the Eastern wind; at the end of the dance, the Winds shove off the disguises of the other four, which seem to yeeld and almost fall off of themselves at the coming of the Winds; so all the four old Suiters are discovered. Exeunt all the Winds but one, which is the Schollar in that disguise, so shows all.
Wid.
How? Sir Gilbert Lambston, Mr Overdon,
All our old Suiters! you have took pains my Masters.
Sir Gilb.

We made a vow we'd speak our mindes to you.

Weath.

And I think we're as good as our words, though it cost some of our purses; I ow money for the Clouds yet, I care not who knows it; the Planets are sufficient enough to pay the Painter, and I were dead.

Wid.

Who are you Sir?

Bev.

Your most unworthy servant.

Wid.

Pardon me, is't you Sir?

Bev.
My disgrace urg'd my wit to take some form,
Wherein I might both best and properliest
[Page 98]Discover my abusers, and your own,
And show you some content, before y'had none.
Wid.
Sir, I ow much both to your care and love,
And you shall finde your full requital worthy.
Was this the plot now your poor envy works out?
I do revenge my self with pittying on you:
Take Fire into the Buttery, he has most need on't,
Give Water some small Beer, too good for him;
Air, you may walk abroad like a Fortune-teller,
But take down Earth, and make him drink i'th' Cel­ler.
Mrs Low.

The best revenge that could be.

Moth.

I commend you Madam.

Sir Ol.

I thought they were some such sneakers.

Sav.

The four Suiters! and here was a mess of mad Elements.

Mrs Low.

Lights, more lights there; where be these Blew-coats?

Wid.

You know your lodgings Gentlemen to night.

Sir Ol.

'Tis bounty makes bold guests, Madam.

Wid

Good rest Lady.

Sir Ol.
A most contentful night, begin a health Madam
To your long joys, and may the years go round with't—
Wid.
As many thanks as you have wisht 'em hours Sir,
Take to your lodging with you.
Mrs Low.

A general rest to all.

Exeunt.
Phil.

I'm excepted.

Sav.
Take in another to you then, there's room enough.
In that exception, faith to serve us both.
The Dial of my sleep goes by your eyes.
Exit.
Manent Widow and Mrs Low-water.

Act 5.

Scaen 1.

Widow and Mrs Low-water.
Wid.
NOw like a greedy Usurer alone,
I sum up all the wealth this day has brought me;
And thus I hug it.
Mrs Low.

Prethee!

Wid.

Thus I kiss it.

Mrs Low.

I can't abide these kissings.

Wid.
How Sir? not?
I'll try that sure, I'll kiss you out of that humor.
Mrs Low.

Push, by my troth I cannot.

Wid.

What cannot you Sir?

Mrs Low.
Not toy, nor bill and imitate House-Pigeons,
A married man must think of other matters.
Wid.

How, other matters Sir! what other mat­ters?

Mrs Low.
Why are there no other matters that belong to't?
Do you think y'have married onely a Cock-sparrow?
And fit but for one business, like a fool;
You shall not finde it so.
Wid.
You can talk strangely Sir,
Come, will you to bed?
Mrs Low.

No faith will not I.

Wid.

What not to bed Sir?

Mrs Low.

And I do, hang me; not to bed with you.

Wid.

How not to bed with me! Sir with whom else?

Mrs Low.
[Page 100]

Why am not I enough to lie with my self?

Wid.

Is that the end of marriage?

Mrs Low.
No by my faith—'tis but the begin­ning, yet death is the end on't,
Unless some trick come i'th' middle and dash all.
Wid.
Were you so forward lately, and so youth­ful,
That scarce my modest strength could save me from you,
And are you now so cold?
Mrs Low.
I've thought on't since,
It was but a rude part in me y'faith
To offer such bold tricks to any woman,
And by degrees I shall well break my self from't;
I feel my self well chastned since that time,
And not the third part now so loosely minded.
O when one sees their follies, 'tis a comfort;
My very thoughts take more staid years upon 'em.
Oh marriage is such a serious divine thing,
It makes youth grave, and sweetly nips the Spring.
Wid.
If I had chose a Gentleman for care
And worldly business, I had ne'r took you;
I had the offers of enough, more fit
For such employment; I chose you for love;
Youth, and content of heart, and not for troubles:
You are not ripe for them; after y'have spent
Some twenty years in dalliance, youths affairs,
Then take a Book in your hand, and sum up cares;
As for wealth now, you know that's got to your hands.
Mrs Low.
But had I known't had been so wrong­fully got,
As I heard since, you should have had free leave
To have made choice of another Master for't.
Wid.

Why, can that trouble you?

Mrs Low.
[Page 101]
It may too soon; but go,
My sleeps are sound, I love not to be started
With an ill conscience at the fall of midnight,
And have mine eyes torn ope with poor mens curses,
I do not like the fate on't, 'tis still apt
To breed unrest, dissention, wilde debate,
And I'm the worst at quarrels upon Earth,
Unless a mighty injury should provoke me.
Get you to bed, go.
Wid.

Not without you in troth Sir.

Mrs Low.
If you could think how much you wrong your self
In my opinion of you, you would leave me now
With all the speed you might; I like you worse
For this fond heat, and drink in more suspition of you.
You high-fed Widows are too cunning people
For a poor Gentleman to come simply to.
Wid.

What's that Sir?

Mrs Low.
You may make a youth on him,
'Tis at your courtesie, and that's ill trusted:
You could not want a friend, beside a Suiter,
To sit in your husbands gown, and look over your writings.
Wid.

What's this?

Mrs Low.
I say there is a time when women
Can do too much, and understand too little.
Once more to bed, I'd willingly be a Father
To no more Noses then I got my self;
And so good night to you.
Wid.
Now I see the infection,
A yellow poyson runs through the sweet Spring
Of his fair youth already, 'tis distracted;
Jealous of that which Thought yet never acted.
O dear Sir! on my knees I swear to thee.
Mrs Low.
[Page 102]
I prethee use them in thy private Chamber,
As a good Lady should, spare 'em not there,
'Twill do thee good, faith none 'twill do thee here
Wid.
Have I yet married poverty, and must love;
What Fortune has my heart? that's all I crav'd,
And that lies now a dying; it has took
A speeding poyson, and I'm ignorant; how!
I never knew what beggery was, till now:
My wealth yeelds me no comfort in this plight,
Had want but brought me love, I'd happen'd right.
Exit Widow.
Mrs Low.
So, this will serve now for a prepara­tive
To ope the powers of some dislike at first;
The Physick will pay't home.—How dost thou Sir?
How goes the work?
Enter Mr Low-water.
Mr Low.

Your Brother has the Letter.

Mrs Low.
I finde no stop in't then, it moves well hitherto,
Did you convey it closely.
Mr Low.

He ne'r set eye of me.

Bev.

I cannot read too often.

Above.
Mrs Low.

Peace, to your office—

Bev.
What blessed fate took pitty of my heart,
But with her presence to relieve me thus!
All the large volumes that my time hath master'd,
Are not so precious to adorn my spirit,
As these few lines are to inrich my minde.
I thirst again to drink of the same Fountain—
KInde Sir,

I found your care and love so much in the performance of a little, wherein your wit and art had late employment, that I dare now trust your bosome with business of more weight and eminence: Little thought the world, that since the Wedding dinner, all my mirth was but dissembled, and seeming joys but counterfeit. The truth to you Sir is, I finde so little signs of content in the bagain I made i'th' morning, that I began to repent before Evening Prayer, and to shew some fruits of his wilful neglect, and wilde disposition, more then the day could bring forth to me, has now for­sook my Bed, I know no cause for't.

Mrs Low.

But I'll besworn I do:

Bev.

Being thus distrest Sir, I desire your comfort­able presence and councel, whom I know to be of worth, and judgment; that a Lady may safely impart her griefs to you, and commit 'em to the Vertues of Com­miseration, and Secrecy.

Your unfortunate Friend The Widow Wife.
I have took order for your private admittance
With a trusty servant of mine own, whom I have
Plac'd at my Chamber-door to attend your coming,
He shall not wait too long▪ and curse my slowness.
Mr Low.

I would you'd come away then.

Bev.
How much am I beguil'd in that yong Gen­tleman!
I would have sworn had been the perfect abstract
Of honesty and mildness: 'Tis not so—
Mrs Low.
I pardon you sweet Brother, there's no hold
Of what you speak now, you're in Cupids pound.
Bev.
Blest be the secret hand that brought thee hither;
[Page 104]But the dear hand that writ it, ten times blest.
Mr Low.
That's I still, has blest me now ten times at twice.
Away I hear him coming.
Mrs Low.

Strike it sure now?

Exit.
Mr Low.

I warrant thee sweet Kate, chuse your best—

Enter Mr Beveril.
Bev.

Who's there?

Mr Low.
O Sir, is't you! y'are welcome then,
My Lady still expects you Sir.
Bev.

Who's with her?

Mr Low.

Not any creature living Sir.

Bev.
Drink that,
I've made thee wait too long.
Mr Low.
It does not seem so now Sir. Sir if a man
Tread warily as any wise man will,
How often may he come to a Ladies Chamber, and be welcome to her?
Bev.

Thou giv'st me learned councel for a Closet.

Mr Low.
Make use on't Sir, and you shall finde no loss in't.
So, you are surely in, and you must under.
Enter Kate with all the Guests, Sir Oliver, Mr Sunset, Wife, Daughter, Philip, Sandfield, and Savorwit.
Mrs Low.
Pardon my rude disturbance, my wrongs urge it,
I did but try the plainness of her minde,
Suspecting she dealt cunningly with my youth,
And told her the first night, I would not know her;
[Page 105]But minding to return, I found the door
Warded suspitiously, and I heard a noise;
Such as fear makes, and guiltiness at th'approaching
Of an unlook'd for husband.
All.

This is strange Sir.

Mrs Low.

Behold its bard, I must not be kept out.

Sir Ol.

There is no reason Sir.

Mrs Low.
I'll be resolv'd in't.
If you be sons of honor, follow me.
Break open door, rush in.
Sav.

Then must I stay behinde, for I think I was begot i'th' Woodyard, and that makes every thing go so hard with me.

Enter confusedly with the Widow, and her Brother the Schollar.
Mrs Low.

That's he, be sure on him▪

Within.
Sir Ol.

Be not so furious Sir.

Mrs Low.
She whispered to him to slip into her Closet.
What have I taken you? is not my dream true now?
Unmerciful Adulteress, the first night!
Sir Ol.

Nay good Sir patience.

Mrs Low.
Give me the Villains heart,
That I may throw't into her bosom quick,
There let the Letcher pant.
Moth.

Nay sweet Sir.

Mrs Low.
Pardon me,
His life's too little for me.
Wid.
How am I wrongfully sham'd? speak your intent Sir
Before this company, I pursue no pity▪
Mrs Low.
This is a fine theevish juggling, Gentle­men!
[Page 106]She asks her mate that shares in guilt with her? Too gross, too gross!
Bev.

Rash mischeif.

Mrs Low.
Treacherous Sir!
Did I for this cast a friends arm about thee?
Gave thee the welcome of a worthy spirit,
And lodg'd thee in my house, nay, entertain'd thee
More like a natural Brother, then a stranger;
And have I this reward? Perhaps the pride
Of thy good parts, did lift thee to this impudence?
Let her make much on 'em, she gets none of me.
Because thou'rt deeply read in most Books else,
Thou wouldst be so in mine; there it stands for thee,
Turn ore the leaves, and where you left, go forward.
To me it shall be like the Book of Fate,
Ever claspt up.
Sir Ol.

O dear Sir, say not so.

Mrs Low.
Nay I'll swear more; for ever I refuse her,
I'll never set a foot into her bed;
Never perform the duty of man to her,
So long as I have breath.
Sir Ol.

What an oath was there Sir? call't again.

Mrs Low.
I knew by amorous sparks struck from their eyes,
The fire would appear shortly in a blaze;
And now it flames indeed:—Out of my house,
And take your Gentleman of good parts along with you;
That shall be all your substance;
He can live in any Emperors Court in Christendom▪
You know what you did Wench, when you chose him
To thrust out me; you have no politick love,
You are to learn to make your market; you,
You can chuse wit, a burden light and free,
[Page 107]And leave the grosser Element with me.
Wealth, foolish trash, I thank you, out of my doors.
Sir Ol.

Nay good Sir, hear her.

Moth. Suns.

Sweet Sir.

Mrs Low.
Pray to your Chambers Gentlemen, I should be here
Master of what is mine.
Sir Ol.

Hear her but speak Sir?

Mrs Low.
What can she speak but womans com­mon language?
She's sorry and asham'd for't that helps nothing;
Wid.
Sir, since it is the hard hap of my life
To receive injury where I plac'd my love.
Mrs Low.

Why la, I told you what escapes she'd have.

Sir Ol.

Nay pray Sir hear her forward.

Wid.
Let our parting be full as charitable as our meeting was,
That the pale envious world, glad of the food
Of others miseries, civil dissentions,
And nuptial strifes, may not feed fat with ours.
But since you are resolv'd so wilfully
To leave my Bed, and ever to refuse me,
As by your rage I finde it your desire,
(Though all my actions deserve nothing less)
Here are our friends, men both of worth and wis­dom,
Place so much power in them, to make an evenness
Between my peace and yours: All my wealth within doors
In Gold and Jewels, lie in those two Caskets
I lately led you to; the value of which
Amounts to some five thousand a peece;
Exchange a charitable hand with me,
And take one Casket freely, fare thee well Sir.
Sir Ol.
[Page 108]

How say you to that now?

Mrs Low.
Troth I thank her Sir!
Are not both mine already?—You shall wrong me,
And then make satisfaction with mine own;
I cannot blame you; a good course for you—
Wid.
I know 'twas not my luck to be so happy;
My miseries are no starters when they come,
Stick longer by me.
Sir Ol:
Nay, but give me leave Sir,
The wealth comes all by her.
Mrs Low.
So does the shame,
Yet that's most mine; why should not that be too?
Sir Ol.
Sweet Sir, let us rule so much with you,
Since you intend an obstinate separation,
Both from her Bed and boord, give your consent
To some agreement reasonable and honest.
Mrs Low.

Must I deal honestly with her Lust?

Moth.

Nay good Sir.

Mrs Low.
Why I tell you all the wealth her hus­band left her,
Is not of power to purchase the dear peace
My heart has lost in these adulterous Seas;
Yet let her works be base, mine shall be noble.
Sir Ol.

That's the best word of comfort I heard yet.

Mrs Low.
Friends may do much.—Go, bring those Caskets forth,
I hate her sight, I'll leave her, though I lose by't.
Sir Ol.
Spoke like a Noble Gentleman y'faith;
I'll honor thee for this—
Bev.
O cursed man!
Must thy rash heat force this division?
Mrs Low.
You shall have free leave now, without all fear;
You shall not need oyl'd hinges, privy passages,
[Page 109]Watchings, and whisperings; take him boldly to you.
Wid.
O that I had that freedom, since my shame
Puts by all other fortunes, and owns him.
A worthy Gentleman, if this cloud were past him,
I'd marry him, wer't but to spight thee onely,
So much I hate thee now.
Enter Servants with two Caskets, and the Suiters.
Sir Oliver.
Here come the Caskets Sir, hold your good minde now,
And we shall make a vertuous end between you.
Mrs Low.
Though nothing less she merit but a curse,
That might still hang upon her, and consume her still;
As t'has been many a better womans fortune
That has deserv'd less vengeance, and felt more;
Yet my minde scorns to leave her shame so poor.
Sir Ol.

Nobly spoke still.

Sir Gilb.

This strikes me into Musick, Ha, ha.

Peppert.

Parting of goods before the bodies joyn?

Weath▪

This 'tis to marry beardless domineering Boys: I knew 'twould come to this pass; well fare a just Almanack yet; for now is Mercury going into the second house near unto Ursa major, that great Huncks, the Bear at the Bridge foot in Heaven; which shows horrible Bear-baitings in wedlock; and the Sun nere entring into th'Dog, sets 'em all together by th'ears.

Sir Ol.

You see what's in't.

Mrs Low.

I think 'tis as I left it.

Wid.
Then do but gage your faith to this assem­bly.
[Page 110]That you will nere return more to molest me,
But rest in all revenges full appeas'd,
And am ply satisfied with that half my wealth,
And take't as freely as life wishes health.
Sir Ol.

La you Sir; come, come, faith you shall swear that.

Mrs Low.

Nay Gentlemen for your sakes, now I'll deal fairly with her.

Sir Ol.

I would we might see that Sir.

Mrs Low.
I could set her free,
But now I think on't, she deserves it not.
Suns.

Nay do not check your goodness, pray Sir, on with't.

Mrs Low.
I could release her, ere I parted with her;
But 'twere a curtesie ill plac'd, and set her
At as free liberty to marry again,
As you all know she was before I knew her.
Sir Ol.

What couldst thou Sir?

Mrs Low.
But 'tis too good a blessing for her.
Up with the Casket Sirrah.
Wid.

O Sir stay!

Mrs Low.

I have nothing to say to you.

Sir Ol.
Do you hear Sir?
Pray let's have one word more with you for our money.
Wid.
Since y'have expos'd me to all shame and sor­row,
And made me fit but for one hope and fortune,
Bearing my former comforts away with you
Show me a parting charity but in this,
For all my losses pay me with that freedom,
And I shall think this treasure as well given
As ever 'twas ill got▪
Mrs Low.
I might afford it you,
Because I never mean to be more troubled with you.
[Page 111]But how shall I be sure of the honest use on't,
How you'll employ that liberty? perhaps sinfully,
In wantonness unlawful, and I answer for't.
So I may live a Baud to your loose works still,
In giving 'em first vent; not I, 'shall pardon me,
I'll see you honestly joyn'd, ere I release you;
I will not trust you for the last trick you plaid me; here's your old Suiters.
Peppert.

Now, we thank you Sir.

Weath.

My Almanack warns me from all Cuckold­ly Conjunctions.

Wid.
Be but commander of your word now Sir,
And before all these Gentlemen, our Friends,
I'll make a worthy choice.
Suns.

Flie not ye back now.

Mrs Low.
I'll try thee once. I am married to an­other,
There's thy release.
Sir Ol.
Hoyda! there's a release with a witness?
Thou'rt free sweet wench.
Wid.
Married to another!
Then in revenge to thee,
To vex thine eyes 'cause thou hast mock'd my heart,
And with such treachery repaid my love;
This is the Gentleman I embrace and chuse▪
Mrs Low.
O torment to my blood, mine enemy!
None else to make thy choice of, but the man
From whence my shame took head!
Wid.
'Tis done to quit thee;
Thou that wrong'st womans love, her hate can fit thee.
Sir Ol.
Brave wench y'faith! now thou hast an honest Gentleman,
Rid of a swaggering knave, and there's an end on't.
A man of good parts, this t'other had nothing!
Life, married to another?
Sir Gilb.
[Page 112]

O brave rascal with two wives!

Weath.

Nay and our women be such subtil Ani­mals, I'll say wait at the Carriers for a Countrey Chamber-maid, and live still a Batchelor: When Wives are like Almanacks, we may have every year a new one, then I'll bestow my money on 'em; in the mean time I'll give 'em over, and ne'r trouble my Almanack about 'em.

Sir Gilb.
I come in a good time to see you hang'd Sir,
And that's my comfort.—Now I'll tickle you Sir.
Mrs Low.

You make me laugh indeed.

Sir Gilb.
Sir you remember
How cunningly you choak'd me at the Banquet
With a fine bandy Letter.
Mrs Low.

Your own fist Sir.

Sir Gilb.
I'll read the Statute-Book to you now for't:
Turn to the Act in Anno Iac primo,
There lies a Halter for your Wind-pipe:
Mrs Low.

Fie no.

Sir Ol.

Faith but you'll finde it so Sir, an't be fol­lowed.

Weath.
So says my Almanack, and he's a true man.
Look you; the thirteenth day work for the Hang­man.
Mrs Low.

The fourteenth day, make haste, 'tis time you were there then.

Weath.

How? is the Book so sancy to tell me so?

Bev.
Sir I must tell you now, but without Call,
The Law would hang you, if married to another:
Mrs Low.
You can but put me to my Book, sweet Brother.
And I've my Neck-verse perfect, here and here.
[Page 113]Heaven give thee eternal joy, my dear sweet Brother.
All.

Who's here?

Sir Gilb.
O Devil, her self? did she betray me.
A pox of shame, nine Coaches shall not stay me
Exit Sir Gilbert▪
Bev.
I've two such deep healths in two joys to pledge,
Heaven keep me from a surfeit:
Sir Ol.
Mistress Low water!
Is she the jealous Cuckold, all this quoils about?
And my right worshipful Serving-man, is it you Sir?
Mr Low.

A poor wrong'd Gentleman, glad to serve for his own Sir:

Sir Ol.

By my faith y'have serv'd the Widow a fine trick between you.

Mrs Low.
No more my enemy now, my Brothers wife,
And my kinde Sister.
Sir Ol.
There's no starting now from't:
'Tis her own Brother, did not you know that?
Wid.

'Twas never told me yet.

Sir Ol.

I thought you'd known't.

Mrs Low.
What matter is't, 'tis the same man was chose still,
No worse now then he was, I'm bound to love you,
Y'have examin'd in this a double charity,
Which to your praise, shall to all times be known,
Advanc'd my Brother, and restor'd mine own,
Nay, somewhat for my wrongs, like a good sister,
For well you know the tedious suit did cost,
Much pains and fees, I thank you, 'tis not lost:
You wish'd for love, and faith I have bestow'd you
Upon a Gentleman that does deerly love you.
That recompence I've made you; and you must think Madam
[Page 114]I lov'd you well, (though I could never ease you)
When I fetcht in my Brother thus to please you.
Sir Ol

Here's unity for ever strangely wrought.

Wid.
I see too late there is a heavy judgment
Keeps company with Extortion, and foul deeds;
And like a wind which Vengeance has in chase,
Drives back the wrongs into the Injurers face.
My punishment is gentle, and to shew
My thankful minde for't, thus I'll revenge this,
With an embracement here, and here a kiss.
Sir Ol.
Why now the Bells they go trim, they go trim;
I wish'd thee Sir some unexpected blessing
For my Wives ransom, and 'tis faln upon thee.
Weath

A pox of this, my Almanack ne'r gull'd me till this hour, the thirteenth day work for the hang­man, and there's nothing toward it; I'd been a fine ass, if I'd given twelve-pence for a horse to have rid to Tyburn to morrow.—But now I see the error, 'tis false figured, it should be thirteen days and a half, work for the hangman; for he ne'r works under thir­teen-pence half-penny:—Beside, Venus being a spot in the [...]ns garment, shows there should be a woman found in Hose and Doublet.

Sir Ol.

Nay faith sweet wife, we'll make no more hours on't now, 'tis as fine a contracting time, as ever came amongst Gentle-folks. Son Philip, Master Sandfield, come to the book here:

Phil
Now I'm wak'd
Into a thousand miseries and their torments.
Sav.

And I come after you Sir, drawn with wilde horses; there will be a brave show on's anon, if this weather continue.

Sir Ol.

Come wenches; where be these yong Gen­mens hands now?

Moth.

Poor Gentleman my son, some other time Sir.

Sir Ol.
[Page 115]

I'll have't now y'faith wife.

Wid.

What are you making here?

Sir Ol.
I have sworn, sweet Madam,
My son shall marry Mr Sunsets daughter,
And Mr Sandfield mine.
Wid.
So you go well Sir,
But what make you this way then?
Sir Ol.

This! for my son.

Wid.

O back Sir, back! this is no way for him.

Suns. Sir Ol.

How?

Wid.
O let me break an oath, to save two souls,
Lest I should wake another judgment greater;
You come not here for him Sir.
Sir Ol.

What's the matter?

Wid.
Either give me free leave to make this match,
Or I'll forbid the Banes.
Sir Ol.

Good Madam take it.

Wid.

Here Mr Sandfield then.

Sir Ol.

Cuds Bodkins!

Wid.

Take you this Maid.

Sandf.

You could not please me better, Madam.

Sir Ol.

Hoyda! is this your hot love to my daughter Sir?

Wid.

Come hither Philip, here's a wife for you.

Sir Ol.

Zunes, he shall ne'r do that, marry his Sister!

Wid.
Had he been rul'd by you, he had married her.
But now he marries Mr Sunsets daughter,
And Mr Sandfield yours, I've sav'd your oath Sir.
Phil.

O may this blessing hold!

Sav.

Or else all the liquor runs out.

Sir Ol.

What Riddle's this Madam?

Wid.
A Riddle of some fourteen years of age now.
[Page 116]You can remember Madam, that your daughter
Was put to nurse to Mr Sunsets wife.
Moth.

True! that we talk'd on lately.

Sir Ol.

I grant that Madam.

Wid.
Then you shall grant what follows: At that time
You likewise know old Mr Sunset here
Grew backward in the world, till his last fortunes
Rais'd him to this estate.
Sir Ol.

Still this we know too.

Wid.
His wife then Nurse, both to her own and yours,
And both so yong, of equal years, and daughters;
Fearing the extremity of her fortunes then,
Should fall upon her Infant; to prevent it,
She chang'd the children, kept your daughter with her,
And sent her own to you for better fortunes:
So long enjoyn'd by solemn oath unto't,
Upon her death bed, I have conceal'd this,
But now so urg'd here's yours, and this is his.
Sav

Hoop! the joy is come of our side.

Weath.

Hay. I'll cast mine Almanack to the Moon too and strike out a new one for next year.

Phil.

It wants expression, this miraculous blessing.

Sav

Me thinks I could spring up, and knock my hea [...] against yon S [...]lver-feeling now for joy.

Weath.

By my faith, but I do not mean to follow you there, so I may dash out my Brains against Charls Wain, and come down as wise as a Carman▪

Sir Ol.

I never wondred yet with greater pleasure.

Moth.
What tears have I bestow'd on a lost daughter,
And left her behinde me.
Wid.
This is Grace,
This Jane: Now each has her right name and place.
Suns.
[Page 117]

I never heard of this.

Wid.

I'll swear you did not Sir.

Sir Ol.
How well I have kept mine oath against my will;
Clap hands, and joy go with you.—Well said Boys!
Phil▪

How art thou blest from shame, and I from ruine:

Sav.

I, from the Bakers Ditch, if I'd seen you in.

Phil.
Not possible the whole world to match again,
Such grief, such joy, in minutes lost and won.
Bev.
Who ever knew more happiness in less com­pass?
Ne'r was poor Gentleman so bound to a Sister,
As I am, for the weakness of thy minde;
Not onely that thy due, but all our wealth
Shall lie as open as the Sun to man,
For thy employments; so the charity
Of this dear Bosom bids me tell thee now.
Mrs Low.

I am her servant for't.

Wid.
Hah worthy Sister!
The government of all, I bless thee with.
Bev.
Come Gentlemen, on all perpetual Friend­ship.
Heaven still relieves, what Misery would destroy,
Never was night yet of more general Joy.

EPILOGUE.

NOw let me see what weather shall we have now;
Hold fair now, and I care not.—Mass Full Moon too,
Just between five and six this Afternoon:
This happens right, the skie for the best part clear,
Save here and there a Cloud or two dispers'd
That's some dozen of Panders, and half a score Pick-Pockets,
You may know them by their whistle,
And they do well to use that while they may:
For Tyburn craks the Pipe, and spoils the Musick.
What says the destiny of the hour this Evening,
Hah, fear no colours by my troth agreed then,
The red and white looks chearfully: For know ye all,
The Planet's Jupiter, you should be jovial;
There's nothing lets it, but the Sun i'th' Dog;
Some bark in corners that will fawn and cog.
Glad of my fragments for their Ember-week,
The Signs in Gemini too, both hands should meet;
There should be noise i'th' Air, if all things hap,
Though I love Thunder, when you make the clap.
Some faults perhaps have slipt, I am to answer;
And if in any thing, your revenge appears,
Send me in, with all your fists about mine ears.
FINIS.

Courteous Reader, these Books following are printed for Humphrey Moseley, at the Princes Armes in St. Pauls Church-yard.

Various Histories, with curious Discourses in humane Learning, &c.

1 HIstoricall relations of the united Provinces of Flanders, by Cardinall Bentivoglio: Englished by the Right Honorable Henry Earle of Monmouth. Fol.

2. The History of the Warrs of Flanders, written in Italian by that learned and famous Cardinal Bentivo­glio; Englished by the Right Honorable Henry E. of Monmouth. The whole worke Illustrated with a Map of the 17. Provinces, and above 20 Figures of the chiefe Personages mentioned in this History. Fol.

3. The History of the Warrs of the Emperor Justi­nian, with the Persians, Goths, and Vandalls, written in Greek by Procopius of Caesaria in eight Bookes, trans­lated into English by Sir Henry Holcroft. Knight. Fol.

4. De Bello Belgico, the History of the Low-Country Warrs, written in Latine by Famianus Strada, in Eng­lish by Sir Robert Stapylton, Illustrated with divers Fi­gures. Fol.

5. The use of passions, written by I. F. Senalt, and put into English by Henry, Earle of Monmouth 8 o.

6. Judicious and Select Essaies and observations by the Renowned and learned Knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, with his Apology for his Voyage to Guiana. Fol.

7. The Compleat Horseman and Expert Farrier in two books, by Thomas De Grey Esquire, newly printed with additions. in 4 o 1656.

8. Unheard-of curiosities concerning the Talisma­nicall Sculpture of the Persians. The Horoscope of the Patriarchs, and the judgment of the Starrs, by J. Gaf­farel, Englished by Edmund Chilinead, Ch. Ch. Oxon.

9. The History of the Inquisition, composed by R. F. Servita, the compiler of the History of the Coun­cill [Page] of Trent, in 8 o. translated out of Italian.

10. Biathanatos, a Paradox of self-murther, by Dr. Jo. Donne, Dean of St. Pauls London.

11. The Gentlemans Exercise, or the Art of lim­ning, painting, and blazoning of Coats and Armes, &c. by Henry Peacham Master of Arts, 4 o.

12. M. Howels History of Lew is the thirteenth King of France, with the life of his Cardinal de Richelieu. Fol.

13. Mr. Howels Epistolae Ho elianae. Familiar letters Domestick and Forren, in six Sections partly Histori­call, Politicall, Philosophicall, the first Volume with Additions. 8 o.

14. Mr. Howels new volume of Familiar letters partly Historicall, Politicall, Philosophicall, the se­cond Volume with many Additions. 80

15. Mr. Howels third Volume of Additionall letters of a fresher date, never before published. 8 o.

16. Mr. Howels Dodono's Grove, or the Uocall Forest, the first part, in 12 o. with many Additions.

17. Mr. Howels Dodona's Grove, or the Uocall Forest, the second part in 8 o, never printed before.

18. Mr. Howels, Englands Teares for the present wars.

19. Mr. Howels Fre-eminence and Pedegree of Par­liament, in 12 o.

20. Mr. Howels Instructions and Directions for For­ren Travels, in 12 o with divers Additions for Tra­velling into Turky, and the Levant parts.

21. Mr. Howels Vote, or a Poem Royall present­ed to his late Majesty, in 4 o.

22. Mr. Howels Angliae Suspiria & lachrymae, in 12 o.

23. Marques Virgilio Malvezzi's Romulus and Tar­quin, Englished by Hen. Earl of Monmouth, in 12 o.

24. Marques Virgilio Malvezzi's David persecuted, Englished by Ro. Ashly▪ Gent. in 12 o.

25. Marques Virgilio Malvezzi, of the successe and chiefe events of the Monarchy of Spain, in the year [Page] 1639. of the revolt of the Catalonians from the King of Spain. Englished by Rob. Gentilis Gent. in. 12 o.

26. Marques Virgilio Malvezzi's considerations on the lives of Alcibiades, and Coriolanus, Two famous Roman Commanders, Englished by Rob. Gentilis.

27. Policy unveiled, or Maximes of State, done into English by the Translator of Gusman, in 4 o.

28. Gracious priveleges granted by the King of Spaine to our English Merchants, in 4 o.

29. Englands looking in and out by Sr. Ralph Mad­dison, Knight, 4 o.

30. Gratiae Ludentes, jests from the University.

31. The Antipathy between the French and the Spanyard, an ingenious translation out of Spanish.

32. Mr. Birds grounds of Grammar, in 8 o.

33. Mr. Bulwers Phylocophus, or the Deafe and Dumb mans friend, in 12 o.

34. Mr. Bulwers Pathomyotomia, or a Dessection of the significative Muscles of the Affections of the Mind, 12 o.

35. An Itinenary containing a voyage made through Italy in the yeares 1646, 1647. illustrated with di­vers Figures of Antiquity, never before published, by John Raymond, Gent. in 120.

Books in Humanity lately Printed.

36. THe History of Life and Death, or the prolon­gation of Life, written by Francis Lord Ueru­lam, Viscount St. Alban in 12 o.

37. The naturall and experimentall History of Winds, written in Latine by Francis Lord Verulam Viscount St. Alban, translated into English by an ad­mirer of the learned Author. 12 o.

38. The life of the most learned Father Paul, Au­thour of the History of the Councill of Trent, transla­ted out of Italian by a person of quality. 8 o.

[Page]39. Paradoxes, Problems, Characters, & [...]. by Dr. Donn Dean of St Paul's, to which is added a booke of Epigrams, written in Latin by the same Author, trans­lated by Iasper Main. D. D. 12 o.

40. Ignatius his conclave, a Satyr written by Dr. Donne Deane of St. Paul's. 12 o.

41. A Discovery of subterraneall Treasure, viz. of all manner of Mines and Minerals, from the Gold, to the Goale, with plain directions and rules for the finding of them in all Kingdomes, and Countries, writ­ten by Gabriel Platt. 4 o.

42. Richardi Gardiner, ex Aede Christi Oxon. speci­men Oratorium. 8 o.

43. The Soveraignty of the British Seas, written by that learned Knight Sir Iohn Burroughes Keeper of the Records in the Tower. 12 o.

44. Grammatica Burlesa, or a new English Grammar made plaine and easie for Teacher and Schollar, com­posed by Edward Burles Master of Arts.

45. Artificiall Arithmetick containing the Quin­tessence of the Golden Rule, the true valuation of all Annuities, also to find the distance at one station; An Art never till now published, usefull for Merchants, Gunners, Seamen, and Surveyors, by Robert Iager of Sandwich in Kent Gent.

46. Naturall and Divine Contemplations of the Passions and Faculties of the Soul of Man in three books, written by Nicholas Moseley Esq. 8 o.

Severall Sermons, with other exeellent Tracts in Divinity, written by some most eminent and learned Bishops, and Orthodox Divines.

47. A Manuall of private Devotions & Meditations for every day in the week, by the right reve­rend Father in God, Lancelot Andrews late Lord Bi­shop of Winchester, in 24 o.

[Page]48. A Manuall of Directions for the Sick, with ma­ny sweet Meditations and Devotions, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelot Andrews, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24 o.

49. Ten Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at St. Pauls Crosse, and elsewhere, by the Right reve­rend Father in God, Arthur Lake, late Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells. in 40.

50. Six Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at Court before the Kings Majesty, and elsewhere, by that late learned and reverend Divine, Iohn Donne, Dr. in Divinity, and Dean of St. Pauls London, in 4 o.

51. Private Devotions in six Letanies, with directi­ons and Prayers for the dayes of the weeke and Sa­crament, for the houre of Death, and the day of judg­ment, and two daily prayers, for the Morning and E­vening, written by Dr. Henry Valentine, 24 o.

52. A Key to the Key of Scripture, or an exposition with notes upon the Epistle to the Romans, the three first chapters, by William Sclater, Dr. in Divinity and Minister of the word of God at Pitmister in Somer­setshire, in 4 o.

53. Sarah and Hagar, or the sixteenth Chapter of Genefis opened in ninteen Sermons, being the first legitimate Essay of the pious labours of that learned, Orthodox, and indefatigable Preacher of the Gospell, Mr. Josias Shute. B. D. and above 33 years Rector of St Mary Woolnoth in Lombardstreet, in Folio▪

54. Christ's Tears with his love & affection towards Jerusalem, delivered in sundry Sermons upon Luke 19. v. 41, 42. by Richard Maden, B. D. late of Magdalen Colledge in Cam. in. 4 o.

55. Three Sermons viz. The benefit of contentati­on, The Affinity of the faithfull, and The lost sheep found, by Mr. Henry Smith. 4 o.

56. Ten Sermons preached upon severall Sundayes, [Page] and Saints dayes, by Peter Hausted Mr. in Arts, and Curat at Uppingham in Rutland in 4 o.

57. Eighteen Sermons preached upon the Incar­nation and Nativity of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, wherein the greatest misteries of God­liness are unfolded, to the capacity of the Weakest Christian, by Iohn Dawson Oxon. in 4 o.

58. The Mistory of the Defenders of the Faith, dis­coursing the state of Religion in England during the Reigns of King Henry 8. Edward 6. Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth. by C. L. in 4 o.

59. Christian Divinity, written by Edmund Reeve Batchelour in divinity, in 4 o.

60. The Communion-Book Catechism expounded by Edmund Reeve Batchelour in Divinity, in 4 o.

61. The true and absolute Bishop, wherein is shew­ed how Christ is our onely shepheard and Bishop of our soules, by Nicolas Darton, Master in Arts, in 4 o.

62. A description of the New-born Christian, or a lively pattern of the Saint militant child of God, written by Nicholas Hunt, Master in Arts, in 4 o.

63. Divine Meditations upon the 91. Psalm, and on the History of Agag King of Amalek, with an Es­say of Friendship written by an honourable person,

64. An Historicall Anatomy of Christian Melan­choly, by Edmund Gregory Oxon, in 8 o.

65. Lazarus his Rest, a Sermon preached at the Fu­nerall of that pious, learned, and Orthodox Divine, Mr. Ephrim Udall, by Thomas, Reeve, B. D:

66. The Survey of Man, in a Sermon as it was de­livered by Mr. John Bishop at his Fathers funerall.

67. Enchiridion containing institutions Divine and Morall, written by Francis Quarles, 24 o.

Books in Divinity Lately Printed.

68. THE Psalmes of David from the new Trans­lation of the Bible, turned into Meter, to be [Page] sung after the old tunes used in the Churches; by the Right Reverend Father in God Henry King Bishop of Chichester. 12 o.

69. Choice Musick for three voices, and a tho­rough-Base composed by Mr. Henry and Mr. William Lawes, brothers and servants to his late Majesty; with divers Elegies set in Musick by severall friends upon the death of Mr. William Lawes. 4 o.

70. Letters between the Lord George Digby and Sir Kenelm Digby Knight, concerning Religion. 8 o.

71. Essaies in Divinity by Dr. Donn D. of Saint Paul's, before he entred into holy orders. 12 o.

72. Publike devotions, or a Collection of Prayers used at sundry times by divers Reverend and godly Divines, together with divine implorations, and an introduction to prayer. 24 o.

73. The Sinners Tears in Meditations and Prayers by Thomas Fettiplace of Peterhouse Camb. 12 o.

74. Quaestio Quodlibetica, or a discourse whether it be lawfull to take use for mony by R. F. Knight.

75. Sions Prospect in its first view presented in a summary of Divine Truths consenting with the faith professed by the Church of England, confirmed from Scripture and reason, composed by Mr. Robert M [...]ssom Minister: 4 o.

76. Flores Solitudinis, certaine rare and elegant pie­ces, viz. Two excellent discourses. 1 Of Temperance and Patience▪ 2 Of life and death by I. E. Nierem­bergius. The World contemned; by Eucherius, Bishop of Lions. And the life of Paulinus Bishop of Nola, collected in his sicknesse and retirement, by Henry Vaughan.

77. 14. Sermons on severall Texts of Scripture with a Catechism written by Willam Gay Rector of Buckland.

Choyce Poems with excellent Translations, by the most eminent wits of this age.

78. EPigrammata Thomae Mori Angli, in 16 o.

79. Fragmenta Aurea, a collection of all the incom­parable [Page] Pieces written by Sr. Iohn Sucklin Knight, 8 o.

80. Poems, Songs, Sonnets, Elegies, and Letters by Iohn Donne, with Elegies on the Authors death, to which is added divers Copies under his own hand, ne­ver before in print. 8 o.

81. Juvenalls 16. Satyrs translated by Sir Robert Stapylton, wherein is contained a Survey of the man­ners and actions of Mankind, with Annotations, 8 o.

82. Musaeus on the loves of Hero and Leander, with Leander's letter to Hero, and her answer, taken out of Ovid, with Annotations by Sir Robert Staplyton, in 12 o.

83. Poems, &c. written by Mr. Edward Waller of Be­consfield, Esq. 8 o.

84. Pastor Fido, the faithfull Shepheard, a Pastorall, newly translated out of the Originall, by Mr. Richard Fanshaw, Esq; 4 o.

85. Poems, with a discovery of the Civill Warrs of Rome, by Mr. Richard Fanshaw, Esq; in 4 o.

86. Europa, Cupid crucified, Venus Vigils, with An­notations, by Thomas Stanley, Esq; 8 o.

87. Coopers Hill, a Poem written by Mr, John Denham Esq; the 2 d Edition with Additions, 4 o.

88. Medea, a Tragedy written in Latin by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Englished by Mr. Edward Sherburn Esq; with Annotations, 8 o.

89. Seneca's answer to Lucilius his Quaere, why good men suffer misfortunes, seeing there is a Divine pro­vidence, Englished by Mr. Edward Sherburn, Esq; 8 o.

90. Madagascar with other Poems, by Sr. W. Davenant.

91. Poems with a Masque by Thomas Carew Esq;. Gentleman of the Privie Chamber to his late Maje­stie, revived and enlarged with Aditions, 8 o.

92. Poems of Mr. John Milton, with a Masque pre­sented at Ludlow Castle before the Earle of Bridgewa­ter, then President of Wales, 8 o.

93. Poems, &c. with a Masque called The Triumph [Page] of Beauty, by James Shirley, Gent. 8 o.

94. The Mistriss, or severall Copies of love-verses, written by Mr. Abraham Cowley. 80.

95. Stepps to the Temple, sacred Poems with the delights of the Muses upon severall occasions by Ri­chard Crashaw of Cambridge. 12 o.

96. Divine Poems written by Francis Quarles 8 o.

97. Clarastella, with other occasionall Poems, Ele­gies, Epigrams, Satyrs, written by R. Heath. Esq:

98. Poems written by Mr. William Shakspeare.

99. Arnalte & Lucenda, or the melancholy Knight, a Poem translated by L. Laurence. 4 o.

100. The Odes of Casimire, translated, by Mr. George Hills of Newark. 12 o.

101. Alarum to Poets by I. L. 4 o.

102. Fragmenta Poetica or Miscellanies of Poeticall Musings, by Nich. Murford Gent. 12 o.

103. Hymnus Tabaci, Authore Raphaele Thorio. 8 o.

104. Hymnus Tabaci, a Poem in Honour of Tobacco Heroically composed by Raphael Thorius, made En­glish by Peter Hausted Mr. of Arts, Camb. 8 o.

105. Olor Iscanus, a Collection of some select Po­ems, and Translations, written by Mr. Henry Vaughan

106. Argalus and Parthenia by Francis Quarles.

107. The Academy of Complements wherein La­dies, Gentlewomen, Schollers and strangers may ac­commodate their Courtly practise with gentile Cere­monies, complementall, amorous, high expressions and forms of speaking, or writing of Letters, most in fashion, with Additions of many witty Poems and pleasant New songs. 12 o.

Poems lately Printed.

107. POems and Translations, the compleat works of Thomas Stanley Esq; 8 o.

105. Choice Poems with Comedies and Trage [Page] dies, by Mr. William Cartwright late student of Ch. Ch. in Oxford, and Proctor of the University. The Aires and songs set by Mr. Henry Lawes, servant to his late Majesty in his publick and private Musick.

108. Herodian of Alexandria, his Imperiall History of twenty Roman Caesars, and Emperours of his time, first written in Greek, and now converted into an He­roick Poem by C. Stapleton. 4 o.

109. The Card of Courtship or the Language of love fitted to the humours of all degrees, sexes and Conditions.

Incomparable Comedies and Tragedies written by several Ingenious Authors.

110. COmedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumont, and John Fletcher, never printed before, and now published by the Authors Originals Copies, contayning 34 playes, and a Masque, Fol.

111. The Elder Brother by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

112. The Scornfull Lady by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

113. The Woman Hater by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

114. Thierry and Theodoret by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

115. Cupids Revenge by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

116. Monsieur Thomas by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

117. The two Noble kinsmen by Francis Beaumont. and Iohn Fletcher.

118. The Country Captain and the Variety, two Comedies written by a person of Honour. 12 o.

119. The Sophy, a Tragedy writen by Mr. Iohn Den­ham Esq, Fol.

120. Brennoralt, or the discontented Collonel, a Tra­gedy written by Sir Iohn Suckling Knight. 4 o.

121. The deserving Favorite by Mr. Lod. Carlel.

122. Albovine King of Lombardy by Sir William Davenant.

123. The Just Italian by Sir William Davenant.

124. The Cruel Brother by Sir William Davenant.

125. The Unfortunate Lovers by Sir William Davenant.

126. Love and Honour by Sir William Davenant.

[Page]127. The Sophister by Dr. Z.

128. Revenge of Bussy D Ambo is George Chapman

129. Byrons Conspiracy George Chapman

130. Byrons Tragedy. George Chapman

131. Contention for Honour and riches J. Shirley

132. Triumph of Peace in 4 o J. Shirley

133. The Dutchess of Malfy by Iohn Webster.

134. The Northern lass by Richard Broome.

135. The Cid, a Tragicomedy translated out of French by Ioseph Rutter Gent. 12 o.

136. The Wild Goose Chase a Comedy written by Fr. Beaumont and Iohn Fletcher. Fol.

137. The Widow, a Comedy by Ben: Iohnson, Iohn Fletcher, and T: Middleton.

138. The Changling by T Middleton and Rowley. 4 o.

239. Six new plaies. 1. The Brothers. 2. The Si­sters. 3. The Doubtfull Heir. 4. The Imposture. 5. The Cardinall. 6. The Court-Secret, by I. Shirley.

140. Five new plaies. 1. A mad couple well matcht. 2 The Novella. 3. The Court Begger. 4. The City Wit. 5▪ The Damoiselle, by Richard Broome

141. The Tragedy of Alphonsus Emperor of Germa­ny, by George Chapman 4 o.

142. Two Tragedies. viz. Cleopatra Queen of Aegypt, and Agrippina Empresse of Rome, by Thomas May Esq.

Playes lately Printed.

143. THe Gentleman of Venice, A Tragi-Comedy by James Shirley.

144. The Polititian, a Tragedy by James Shirley.

145. The Passionate Lovers in two parts, by Mr. Lodowick Carlel.

146. Mirza, A Tragedy, really acted in Persia with Annotations by Robert Barron Esq;.

147. Three new playes, viz. 1 The Bashfull Lover. 2 The Guardian. 3 The very woman, by Phillip Mas­senger, Gent.

New and Excellent Romances.

148. CAssandra the Fam'd Romance, the whole work in sive parts, written in French, and now Elegantly rendered into English by a person of quality, Fol.

149. Ibrahim or the Illustrious Bassa, an excellent new Romance, the whole worke in foure parts, written in French by Monsieur de Scudery, and now Englished by Henry Cogan Gent. Fol.

150. Artamenes, or the Grand Cyrus, an excellent new Romance, written by that famous wit of France, Monsieur de Scudery Governour of Nostre-dame, and now Englished by F. G. Esq;. Fol.

151. The continuation of Artamenes, or the Grand Cyrus, that excellent new Romance, being the third and fourth parts, written by that Famous wit of France, Monsieur de Scudery Governour of Nostre-dame, and now Englished by F. G. Esq;. Fol.

152. The third Volume of Artamenes or the Grand Cyrus, that excellent new Romance, being the fift and fixt parts, written by that famous wit of France, Mon­sieur de Scudery Governour of Nostre-dame, and now En­glished by F. G. Esq;. Fol.

153. The fourth Volume of Artamenes, or the Grand Cyrus, that Excellent new Romance, being the sea­venth and eighth parts, written by that famous Wit of France, Monsieur de Scudery Governour of Nostre-dame, and now englished by F. G. Esq;. Fol.

154. The History of Polexander, a Romance, En­glished by William Browne Gent. Fol.

155. The History of the Banished Virgin, a Ro­mance translated by I. H. Esq;. Fol.

156. Casandra the fam'd Romance, the three first books, Elegantly rendred into English by the Right Honorable the Lord George Digby. 8 o.

157. The History of Philoxipes and Policrite, a Ro­mance, [Page] made English by an honorable person. 8 o.

158. The History of Don Fenise, a new Romance, written in Spanish by Francisco de las Coveras; English­ed by a Person of Honour. 8 o.

159. Aurora Ismenia, and the Prince, with Oronta the Cyprian Virgin, translated by Thomas Stanley Esq;.

160. Cleopatra, a new Romance, Englished by a Gent. of the Inner Temple, in 8 o.

161. La Stratonica or the unfortunate Qeene, a new Romance, translated into English.

162. Choice Novels, and Amorous Tales written by the most refined wits of Italy, newly translated into English by a person of quality. in 8 o.

163. Nissena, a new Romance, Englished by an Ho­norable person, in 8 o.

164. Dianea, a new Romance, written in Italian by Gio Francisco Loredano, a Noble Venetian, Englished by Sir Aston Cockaine, in 8 o.

Bookes lately printed for Humphrey Moseley.

165. A German Diet, or the Ballance of Europe, wherein the power and weaknesse, glory, and reproach, Vertues and Vices, Plenty and Wants, Ad­vantages and Defects, Antiquity and Modernes of all the Kingdomes and states of Christendome are Im­partially poiz'd by James Howel Esq;. Fol.

166. Renatus des Cartes'▪ excellent compendium of Musick with necessary and juditious Animadversions thereupon, by a person of Honour, Illustrated with divers figures in 4 o.

167. The Scarlet Gowne, or the History of the lives of all the present Cardinals of Rome, written in Italian and Englished by Henry Cogan, Gent. 8 o.

168. A discourse of constancy, by Justus Lipsius, faithfully Englished by R. G. sometimes of Ch. Ch. Oxon. containing many sweet consolations for all that [Page] are afflicted in body, or in mind. 12 o.

169. Le Chemin abrege, or a compendious Method for the attaining of Sciences in a short time, with the Statutes of the Academy of Cardinall Richelieu, En­glished by R. G. Gent.

170. The Academy of Eloquence, containing a compleat English Rhethorick, with common places and formes to speake and write fluently according to the present mode, together with letters amorous and morall, by Thomas Blunt. Gent. 12 o.

171. The Secretary in fashion, or a compendious and refined way of expression in all manner of letters, with instructions how to write letters of all sorts, composed in French by P. St de la Serre, in 8 o.

172. Curia Politiae, or the Apologies of severall Princes justifying to the World their most eminent a­ctions by the strength of Reason, and the most ex­act rules of Policy, by the acurate pen of Monsieur de Scudery, Governer of Nostre-dame, and now Englished with the figures of many Emperors and Kings.

173. [...], or observations on the present man­ners of the English, briefly anatomizing the living by the dead, with an usefull detection of the Mounte­banks of both sexes by Richard Whitlock M. D. late fel­low of all Souls Colledge in Oxon 8 o. 174

174. Scholae Wintoniensis Phrases Latinae The Latine Phrases of Winchester School, corrected and much aug­mented with Poeticalls added, and four Tracts. 1. Of words not to be used by elegant Latinists. 2. The dif­ference of words like one another in sound or signifi­cation. 3. Some words governing a subjunctive mood not mentioned in Lillies Grammer. 4. Concerning [...] & [...] for entring children upon making of Themes, by H. Robinson D. D. sometimes school-ma­ster of Winchester Colledge, published for the common use and benefit of Grammer schools.

[Page]175. Atheismus Vapulans, or a Treatise against Atheism rationally confuting the Atheists of these times by William Towers, late student of Ch. Ch. Oxon.

176. De Juramenti Obligatione promissorij Praelectiones Septem. Of the Obligation of Promissory Oathes, se­ven Lectures read in the Divinity Schools at Oxford by Robert Sanderson D. D. and englished by his late Majesties appointment. 8 o.

177. Politick Maxims and observations written by the most learned Hugo Grotius, translated for the ease and benefit of the English statesmen by H. C. S. T. B.

178. The perfect Horseman or the experienc'd secrets of Mr. Markhams fifty yeares practice, shewing how a man may come to be a Generall Horse—man by the knowledge of these seven Offices, Viz. The Breeder Feeder Ambler Rider Keeper Buyer Farrier.

Published with some Additions by Lancelor Therford Practitioner in the same Art. 40. yeares.

179. Divine Poems written by Tho. Washborn. B. D.

180. Buxtorf's Epitome of his Hebrew Grammar, Englished by Iohn Davis Mr. of Arts.

181. Fasciculus Poematum & Epigrammatûm Miscela­neorum Authore Iohanne Donne. D. D.

182. Poemata Graeca & Latina, à Gulielmo Cartwright, C. C. Oxon.

183. The Marrow of Complements, containing A­morous Epistles, complementall entertainments, Di­alogues, songs, and Sonnets, presentations of gifts, in­structions for Woers, with other pleasant passages.

Bookes newly Printed for Humphrey Moseley.

184 THe fifth Volume of Artamenes, or the Grand Cyrus, that excellent new Romance; being the ninth and tenth Parts: Written by that famous wit of France, Monsieur de Scudery, Governour of Nostre­dame, [Page] and now englished by F. G. Esq.

185 Elise, or, Innocency guilty; a new Romance, translated into English by John Jennings Gent.

186 Clelia, an excellent new Romance, written in French, by the exquisite pen of Monsieur de Scudery, Governour of Nostredame de la Gard.

187 Coralbo, a new Romance in three Bookes; written in Italian by Cavalier Gio Francesco Biondi, and now faithfully rendred into English.

188 The Lusiad, or, Portugalls Historicall Poem; translated into English by Richard Fanshaw, Esq.

189 The History of Philosophy, the first Part; by Tho. Stanley, Esq.

190 The History of the Kingdome of Naples, with the lives of all their Kings; written by that famous Antiquary, Scipio Mazzella, with an Addition of what happened during the Rebellion of Massaniello, and continued to this present yeare, by I. H. Esq;.

191 Mr. Howel's fourth Volume of familiar Letters, never published before.

192 Manziny, his most exquisite Academicall Dis­courses upon severall choice Subjects; turned into French by that famous Wit, Monsieur de Scudery, and into English by an Honourable Lady.

193 The English Treasury of Wit and Language, di­gested into common places, by Iohn Cotg [...]rave, Gent.

194 Lusus Serius, a Philosophicall Discourse, of the superiority of the Creatures, by Michael Mayerus.

195 The Aphorisms of Hippocrates, with a short Comment on them; taken out of Galen, Heurnius, Fuchstus, &c.

196 Euphrates, or, the waters of the East, by Eugeni­us Philalethes.

197. Hermeticall Physick, or the way to preserve and restore health, by Henry Nollius Chymist, and Engli­shed by Henry Vaughan, Gent.

[Page]198 D r Valentine's private Devotions in Welch.

199 Mantuan's Eclogues, Englished by Tho. Harvey.

200 Medici Catholicon; or, a Catholick Medicine for the Diseases of Charity; by John Collop, Dr. of Physick.

201 Poesis Rediviva, or, Poetry reviv'd, by John Collop, M. D.

202 The Saints Expectation and Reward; A Sermon at the Funerall of Mr. Thomas Wiborow, by Michael Thomas Minister of Stockden in Shropshire.

203 A Sermon against Murder, occasion'd by the Massacre of rhe Protestants in the Dukedome of Sa­voy; by William Towers B. D.

Books Printed this Terme.

204. RAgguagli di Parnasso; or, Advertisements from Parnassus: Written in Italian by that Fa­ous Roman Trajano Bocalini, and put into English by the right Honorable, Henry Earle of Monmouth.

205 A compleat History of the Lives and Reignes of Mary Queen of Scotland, and of her Son and Suc­cessour, James the Sixth, King of Great Brittain, France, and Ireland, by William Sanderson.

206 The Destruction of Troy, an Essay upon the second Book of Virgil's Aeneis, by John Denham, Esq.

207 Poems, viz. 1 Miscellanies. 2. The Mistresse, or Love-Verses. 3. Pindarique Odes: 4. Davideis, or, a sacred Poem of the Troubles of David; by A. Cowley.

208 God Incarnate, shewing that Jesus Christ is the Only, and the most high God. In foure Books, contai­ning Animadversions on Dr. Lushingtons Comentary upon the Epistle to the Hebrewes, by Edmund Porter, late of St. Iohn's Coll. Camb. Prebend of Norwich.

209 Ducis Buckinghami in Ream Insulam Expeditio: Authore Edovardo Domino Herbert, Barone de Cherbu­ry. Quam publici Juris fecit Timotheus Balduinus, L. L. Doctor è Coll. Omn. Anim. apud Oxonienses Socius.

[Page]210. The Siege of Antwerp, written in Latine by Famianus Strada, Englished by Tho. Lancaster, Gent.

211 The History of Philosophy, the second Part, by Tho. Stanley Esq.

212 Clelia, an excellent new Romance, the second Volume: Written in French by the exquisite Pen of Monsieur de Scudery, Governour of Nostredame.

213 Argalus and Parthenia, written by Francis Quarles, and Illustrated with 30 Figures, cut in Cop­per relating to the Story.

214 Practicall Arithmetick, in whole Numbers, Fractions, and Decimals; fitted to the severall uses of Gentlemen, Merchants, or Trades-men; by Richard Rawlins, Professor thereof, in Great Yarmouth.

These Bookes are now in the Presse.

215. GLossographia, or a Dictionary interpreting all such hard words, whether Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, Spanish, French, &c. as are now used in our Refined English tongue: Also the Tearmes of Divinity, Law, Physick, Mathematicks, Heraldry, Anatomy, War, Musick, Architecture, ex­plained by Thomas Blount of the Inner Temple, Bar. rester.

216. Astrea, A Romance written in French by Mes­sire Honore D'Vrfe, and now Translated into English.

217. An Introduction into the Greek Tongue most plainly delivering the principall matters of the Grammar thereof, composed for their sakes which un­derstand not Latine; and yet are desirous to have com­petent Knowledge in that language, by Edmund Reeve. B. D. Instructer of all the Originall Tongues.

218 The Rules of the Latine Grammar construed, which were omitted in the Book called Lillies Rules, and the Syntaxis construed by Edmund Reeve. B. D. Instructer in all the Originall Tongues.

[Page]219. Politick Discourses written in Italian by Paul Peruta, Gent. of Venice, Englished by the Right Hono­rable Henry Earle of Monmouth.

221. Of the Passion of the Soule, and contentment of mind, by Peter du Moulin, the Sonne. D. D.

These Books I do purpose to Print very speedtly.

222 HEsperides, or The Muses Garden, stored with vari­ety of the choisest flowers of Language and Learning, wherein grave and serious minds may be re­freshed with the sollid fruits of Philosophy, History, & Cosmography, intermixed with the sweets of Poetry; And the ceremonious Courtier, The Passionate Amo­rist, with his admired Lady, may gather Rarities Sui­table to their Fancies, by Iohn Evans, Gent.

223. Mosaicall Philosophy, written in Latin by Robert Fludd, Esq; and Dr in Physick, and by himselfe afterwards translated into English.

224. Disquisitions upon the Nativity of our Savi­our Jesus Christ, by the Honorable Sir Isaac Wake.

225 The Expedition of the Duke of Buckingham into the Isle of Ree, written in Latine by the Right Ho­nourable Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury, &c. and now rendred into English.

226. The Life of A Satyricall Puppy, Called Nim, who worrieth all those Satyrists he knowes, and barkes at the rest by W. D.

227. The Anatomy of Prophane Love, written in Italian, and Englished by I. S.

228. Nicholas Flammell his Exposition of his Hyero­glyphicall Figures, with the secret Book of Artephius and the Epistle of Iohn Pontanus concernig the Phi­losophers Stone. ☞ With an Addition upon the same Subject written by Synetius that most Learned and Famous Grecian Abbot, never Printed before.

229. Brittain's Ida written by that Renowned Poet Edmund Spencer.

[Page]230. A Discovery of the Hollanders trade of Fish­ing, and their Circumventing us therein, with the meanes how to make profit of the fishing, by which they have made and yet do reap so great a benifit, by Sir W. Munson Knight somtimes Vice-Admirall of England.

231. Sir, Charles Cornwallis his Negotiation as Lei­ger Ambassador for Spaine.

232. A Discovery of the State of Christendom, con­taining many secret passages and hidden Mysteries of the times both past and present with Historicall and Politicall Observations thereon by a person of Honour.

233. A Grammar Lecture with Elegies, written by Francis Beaumont Gent.

234. A Discourse touching peace with Spain and re­taining the Netherlands in Protection written by Sir Walter Raleigh Knight; presetned to his Majesty.

235. A Discourse of the Warre of Germany with the Lord Chancellor Bacon's Petition and Submission to the House of Peeres.

236. Andrea Palladio his four Books of Architecture treating of private Buildings, Highwayes, Piazzas exercising places and Temples, Translated out of Ita­lion, by, H. L. Esq;

237: The Distresses. By Sir W. Davenant

238. The fair Favorite. By Sir W. Davenant

239. Newes from Plimouth. By Sir W. Davenant

240. The Seige. By Sir W. Davenant

241. The Spartan Ladyes. By Lodowick Car­lell Gent.

242. The Discreet Lover or the Fool would be a Favorite By Lodowick Car­lell Gent.

243. Osman the Great Turk or the Noble Servant. By Lodowick Car­lell Gent.

244. More Dissemblers then Women. By Tho. Midleton, Gent.

245. Women beware Women. By Tho. Midleton, Gent.

246. No Witt Help like a Womans. By Tho. Midleton, Gent.

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