Were he as many Kings as he has Subjects to a­buse, I'de not endure 't. Come, the plaine truth is, I don't like it, so I don't, nor should I spare him had he been a King of Gold: What? should I stood like a fool to be his shooing-horne to draw a paire of hornes upon my head, and turn Pander to his lickerish kisses, while he wipes my mouth with a cod-piece Knighthood? I'le hang first. Let him bestow his honour with a vengeance upon those that hold it a good pen'worth on such tearms: For my part I like it not. Have I liv'd these thrice thirty years, to be caught with Chaffe? Kettreena must be a Lady forsooth, to be more capable of his [Page 3] princely lust. And Pertenax must be dubb'd, and gain the glorious attribute of a right worshipfull Cuckold. Come, these are baits to catch young birds with, and honourable mists to blind ambitious fools with. His politique Majesty has taken a wrong Sow by th'eare. I'm none of those that for a smile can play the royall Pander, nor like a temporizing Wittold can help my wanton Prince into the Saddle, or hold his Stirrop. Did I not mark the lustfull progresse of his lascivious glaun­ces? And how his ugly rowling eyes shot fire-brands at Kettreena's face? How every word was garnish'd with a wanton smile, and still presented to Kettreena's eare! His antick gestures, croutches, congies, cringes, comple­ments, and all directed to Kettreena! While she like a wel-disciplin'd Curtezan could counterfeit a modesty, against her conscience, to whet his lust into an appetite; and like a coy dissembling Bride, could sit and mince it, and inwardly rejoice to think of future times.—But see they come; I'le stand aside and watch.

Then let everlasting health be entayl'd upon the sons of men, and let the curse of a strong constitution fall upon man-kind, if I dis-card thee not: Away, avoid my sight; must I thus squander out my pretious howers, and wast my wakefull night, to turn Baud to a hundred Marks, and connive at these your avaritious Murthers? Away, thine eyes are Basilisks, and dart venome at me too strong for Antidotes to resist.

'T was but once or twice six months, good Doctor be appeased.

Appeased! My fury hath no eares; my boyling gall breathes up such fumes of bitternesse into my crazy brains, that there is left no place for patience to repose.

I thought so faithfull a servant as I might have deserv'd one life among so many Patients, to put me in­to a new Suit of apparel, against Easter, without so much adoe.

Slave! shall you be first serv'd or I? who gave you leave to send my Patients to the shades of death without my licence! How durst you be so bold to snatch my wel-dealt Cards out of my skilfull hand, whilst I was studious to contrive and make the best ad­vantage to my self?

He could not by nature have liv'd much lon­ger, Sir, I did but save neighbouring death a labour.

What tell'st thou me of nature? Is not the Pa­tent mine? Have not I power to produce the twine of fraile mortality, in spight of death, or nature? Cannot I lengthen out the groaning daies of transitory flesh, or cut them short according to my pleasure and advan­tage?

Good Sir, All this I know.

Why, varlot, then durst you presume to stop the gainfull practises which I intended? When as the saplesse Stock could thrust no further Branches forth, worthy our notice, you might have then by permission, done your will upon him for your best advantage: When we had taken the first crop of his exuberous bags, you might have then made bold to eat the Rowens; Till then your insolence exceeded our Commission. Had he been born to swim against the stream of fortune, or tortur'd in the stubborn schools of daring Resoluti­on: Or had his hide-bound purse preferr'd his sacred wealth before the lingring hopes of costly health— But thus, to ravish from our thriving hand a man of Fortunes, one that desir'd to take up life at Interest, nay to buy his languishment at so profuse a Rate, denies all thought of Patience. Away, Avaunt, begone,

Is there never a Statute throughout the Volumes of the Law, that tolerates a man to hang himself?

If there were, it was repeal'd in the next King's Reigne, for a great inconvenience that grew upon't.

The more's the pity: To my thinking it were a very fine harmlesse exercise.

Why? there's a custome for't, for those that will seek the Rolls, and have such Wives as I with Cor­nelius his motion in her mouth.

Come, you are happy, the disease lies at that end; I would my Baggage would speak till her heart ake so she did lesse.

Fie Pertenax, wrong not sweet innocence so much. Had but the Stars been pleas'd, would our Wives had been like our Indentures made enterchangeable: Comodus and I pick'd out both the vices, and left the virtue for you. Never could any but Artesio that by art can alter his constitution as he lists, been Father to three such different Daughters. Marma vents her spirit by the Nayles, my Rosia, hers by Tongue; and Kettreena hers by Tears: which like fluent Orators, plead a soft heart, a sweet nature, and a high spirit qualified with a mild discretion, and a harsh Husband.

Every one knowes best where his shoe wrings him: She's mild enough, and that the King knows, I fear to my cost.

And though I say't before thy face, she's fitter for a King then such a testy fool. But who comes here? Comodus?

For 2 ounces of syrrop of Savin, and keeping her councels

0--13s-4d

Item for one ounce and a half of surfling Water

0--7--6

Item for a glasse of the best Mercury-water, and a box of Pomatum—

0--6--8

Item for 2 ounces of Talk

0--2---2

For a Sweating Chaire

0--10--0.

For a Purge

0-3--4.

Item for the same again

0--5---4.

Item for Turpentine Pills

0--3---2.

Item for a Diet drinke

0--10--0.

Item for a Serynge

0--2--6.

Item for fluxing his body

0-12--0.

Item for 2 penny-worth of Diascordium

0--1---1.

summ. tot.

A prety Reck'ning!

As I am a virtuous 'Pothecary, I know not how to sub­sist. Here's all that's comming to me, and that's not to be expected till Christmas, if paid then. Gentlemen, I am in a very skirvy case. Artesio has turn'd me out of his service, and I must break. What shall I doe? I must play the good Fellow abroad, and then my Wife plaies the Devill at home. How can the one be maintain'd? or the other endured? I have pawn'd already her Tuftaffaty Peticote and all her Child-bed linnen, be­sides [Page 21] two tiffiny Aprons, and her bearing-cloth, for which I have had already two curtame Lectures, and a black and blue eye. But stay! my satten Dublet had yet a good glosse, and her silk mohaire Petticote and Wastcote will make a good show in a Country Church. Nay, my credit will yet passe in Bucklers berry for five pounds worth of Commodity, which with the help of a gold Night-cap, a few conjuring words and a large conscience will go far, and set me up in a Market towne, where I may passe for a Padua Doctor: 'Tis but Italia­nating my name, garb, language, and habit, and then Seignior Quackquinto may practice as safely, kill as ig­norantly and innocently as Artesio himselfe, or any Doctor in the King's Dominions. And when my Name is once but rais'd upon the wings of popularity, the bet­ter sort will hold it disparagement to their judgments not to magnifie Quackquinto, and rather not be sick at all, then to be counsell'd by Quackquinto; Every disease will call upon Quackquinto. If any foolish Lord be sick of a Plurisie of Gold, who must be sent for but the Ita­lian Doctor, Seignior Quackquinto? If any love-sick Lady would take a Pill to purge mellancholly, who must be sought to but the Italian Doctor, Seignior Quack­quinto? And then so honourable will the Name of the Italian Doctor be, that he's not fashionably sick that will not advise with Seignior Quackquinto. But the way to proceed is not to stay here.

Had I imagin'd Kettreenas Ladiship had been no worse, I should have made bold to owe her this visit a day longer.

For any thing I see, she may live til all her friends be weary of her. Quisquilla, what brought thee thither? Did her Ladiship send for thee to watch?

Truly, I heard she was very ill, and when I came, I found her very ill.

Some Qualm! May be she's breeding of a young Prince.

Or sick of an old Knight: Methought she lookt very peevishly: If he'd but drop out of the way a little, she'd be well enough.

Nay, indeed, they say, if Ladies, be not (as it were) sick once a fortnight, they forfeit their Honour.

Why, then Quisquilla, thou thinks she's but a little sick of course.

Introth then, our visit is sutable to her disease.

For my part, if her Ladiship had been sick to the heart I should ha visited her with a better heart; But sirrah, I believe our welcome was as hearty as our visit.

Truly, I believe you had been more welcome, if you had staid two minutes longer.

Prithee, why Sirrah?

Nothing, but only her Maid could not find the perfuming Pan, to take away the smell of the—

Of the what? Prithee Quis. what was the matter? I know by thy simpring, thou hast some Roguery at thy tongues end.

Prithee Quis. out with it.

Shall I? but as I live, ye must say nothing. When she first heard of your coming, her Ladiship was heartily tugging a piece of sod Bacon, and fearing ye would come up a little too soon, as in truth ye did, her Maid for haste hiding it under the bed, it slipt into the chamber-pot.

The best that ever I heard, She should ha thrown a few oynions after't, and stued it for the old Knight,

'T had been good enough for such an old mi­serable hound, to allow a sick Lady so course a diet.

Sirah, we have Husbands bad enough, but not so bad.

Gramercy good Wives, that won't be such fools to endure it. Quisquilla, I think thy Husband is no Saint neither. Is he?

Yes, of the Devils canonizing, Would I had been hang'd the first hower he saw me.

Why? what's the matter, Quis?

What? All that he gets he spends, and all he can find he pawnes: Yesterday, he broke open my chest and pawn'd all my child-bed linnen, and to day my Taf­faty petticoat, and my best purld Gorget, and to make up the matter, he hath plaid such pranks that the Doctor [Page 24] has turn'd him out of his service.

Why do'st not discipline him?

Discipline him? If I counsell him, he stands like an Asse and casts up his ugly gray eyes: If I ring him a peal he slights me with his silence, and that which vexes me to the heart, stands and whistles. But if I live till to morrow, for I know he'l come in drunk to night, I'le whistle him, y'faith I wil; I'le make him know what 'tis to whistle a Wife, the longest howre he has to live, y'faith I will.

A G [...]rle worth Gold.

Come, lead away, let's go.

She's a meer fool, that sometimes is no Shrow.

As I live and hope to be a Doctor, 'twas for nothing in the universall world but for killing a rich Pa­tient of his a little before his time.

That was a poor thing to turn away an old Ser­vant for, especially a man of your profession.

'Twas nothing else as I am virtuous. Nay more, He was a slow Pay-master too, and took Phisick upon the Ticket. Ah Madam, had he conniv'd a little, I had clearly gain'd a hundred Marks by his death.

How?

His younger Brother, a fine Gentleman, laid me a hundred Marks he would live till our Lady-day. Alas! I did no more for a considerable summe then my Doctor has done a hundred times for nothing; I'm sure I have been a gainfull Servant to him, and that he knows right well. But the truth is, he has no more conscience with him then the dog has: How often have I left out the chief Ingredient out of his Receits to prolong the [Page 25] Cure for his profit? How often dropt in a Dram of a malignant quality into his Dose to make a Cure for his gain! Nay, as I am an honest man, out of my rank affection to him, at my owne cost and charges kept a brace of hot Creatures in Ordinary to help yong Gentle­men to their Diseases for his sweet sake: Had I been a knave, his Daughters had wanted many a satten Petti­cote. And thus my honest dealing is requited: But 'tis no matter, There's more waies to the wood then one. I have corruption enough in me to make a Country Doctor. And 'tis no new thing to build up a new Phisi­tian upon the ruines of an old broken 'Pothecary.

Quack, you have a voluble tongue, and can ea­sily work upon the ignorant multitude, I could rather wish you to turn Mountebank, What think'st thou of that Quack?

Madam, I doubt not but I could cheat the King's liege people as plausibly as another, if the King, or any of his mad Sons would give me a License.

As for the King, Artesio is in too great favour with him. But Prince Bellarmo will do't if you make the means.

Your Ladyships word in my behalf will soon be heard, for which, I shall present you with a New­years-gift a hundred Marks thick.

I'le move his Highnesse in't. Go get a License drawn for him to signe.

I humbly thank your Ladyship.

So they are fat enough, And there let 'em sterve and rot, and let their Children pick their bones. I'le not abate one single penny. Tell me of mercy? If their Wives brests want milk, let their Children suck bloud. Their [Page 26] Bonds are forfeit, and I'le have ev'ry farthing ere they quit those Grates. Hoe, there within, Hoe, Kettreena.

Sir, did you call?

O are ye come, Hussif, go fetch my Box of Ob­ligations down, Make haste, away.

Compound quoth her, I'le no compounding, Though they are beggers, they have able friends. I wonder ther's no Statute to brand all Bankrupts in the forehead with a hot iron, that men may know 'em. Nature had been very provident if she had ordain'd that their flesh might ha' risen and fallen with their fortunes, that we Mony­masters might have traded without broken slumbers, and ha' known a Rascall from a fat Deere.

O are ye come, give me, give me, quickly, quickly?

Ah poor Quack, Art thou come into his clutches?

O here 'tis, here 'tis, here 'tis, They are both come together. Thomas Badluck, 10 ^l to pay 5. and George [...]aile 6 ^l to pay 3. both forfeit, and fast enough. There's [Page 27] 16 ^l good besides cost and charges, or there let 'em rot.

Deare Sir, let me be a Suiter for mercy upon these two.

Mercy! then let me never find mercy, if I show 'em any.

I prithee, be good to 'em. They have 15 Chil­dren between 'em, and 9 of them are Motherlesse. If they remain in prison, they must all sterve.

Hey, tittle tattle, tittle tattle, tittle tattle, Pray go to your Favorite the King; he'l redeem 'em for the tother kisse, or if your kisses are growne cheap, for a nights lodging. Now your Father's a privy Counsellour you'l have a glorious Pander.

Sir, you wrong three at once, and your self that's four, and I have a conscience that's a thousand will justi­fie it: but I forgive ye.

Forgive me, ye Court Munkey! They say y'are breeding and keep your Chamber, and puke a mor­nings, and eat Caudels and Cordials in a corner to che­rish you after your journey, And my purse must pay for all, But I'le keep you short.

Heaven and my Innocence comfort me: What I breed I fear you'l justly father; even that Child will make us both happy.

I father your Bastard! you extract of Court Impudence!

O that my hand were turn'd to Lyons pawes that I may tear thee to bits.

Murther, murther, murther!

Sir, let my arme assist ye.

O I am murther'd! O my bonds, my bonds, my bonds! O let me once embrace ye more my deare bonds!

[Page 28]O my dear bonds.

Feare not, My arme shall hold you up.

O my legge, my legge! O my bonds, my bonds, my sweet bonds!

But Quack, I know that Mountebanks are bold, ignorant, and covetous; and when these three qualities meet and present themselves to the vulgar, who are na­turally confident, simple, and admirers of Novelties, like Files, they'l buz about the flame till they have burnt their wings, nay sometimes scortch their bodies too, and that must not be suffer'd.

My Lord, we Mountebanks are in that kind very circumspect: What we prescribe, if it doe no good, we are confident can doe no harme. For most of what we give, carries the bare name of Phisick, but is none.

Why doe ye give it then?

To cure our own diseases, and with the help of a little foolish Faith, theirs too.

But methinks your knavery should quickly be discover'd Quack, what doe ye then?

Why, then we flee to the next good Towne, and there we meet with fresh fooles, where if one among a hundred hap to be cured, he more cries up our credit, then the ninety nine can disparage it. Every Prize hath his Trumpet when thousands of Blanks are swallow'd up in silence, that others may be fool'd as well as they. Howsoever, they depart all satisfied, and I dare say, re­pent no more of their Sixpences, then they doe of their sinnes.

Well Quack, give me thy paper. Once for old Lactusia's sake, I'le be accessary to a piece of knavery.

Lactusia, I'de have it made up into a Potion, and so con­vey'd to her. Canst-a make a Composition?

An't please your Grace, Ile doe my best, but dare not warrant the present working of it. I ha' poy­son'd many a Rat, but my practice lies no further.

Art acquainted with no Pothecary, that will take an Anuity of a hundred Mark to doe the feat?

Now I think on't, I have one fit for the pur­pose, a man of a desperate fortune, that will bite at such a Baite. Cornelius Quack, lately Pothecary to Artesio, who is about to get a License to be a Mountebank.

I'le grant it him, But will he be secret? Where is he?

I met him just now.

Go find him, And if he entertain the motion, bring him hither.

I know no fitter man.

But Trippit, In whose name shall we send it to her?

No better then in her Fathers, He being a Doctor, and the (as I heare) at this time not well, may send it as Phisick to be taken presently.

Had Quack contemned her Fathers Pothecary it would ha' done well, but having left his service, it will breed suspition.

What if it should be sent in a Bottle of Greek­wine, as a token from one of her Sisters?

I believe there's no such correspondency be­tween 'em, And besides, Wine of that nature will break the Glasse; and make discovery.

What think'st thou of counterfeiting a kind Letter from Evaldus, which shall intimate his notice of her sicknesse, and that he hath sent her one of his own Cordials, wish­her for his sake; to drink it fasting?

Your Highnesse has hit it. And he may adde, that he hath drunk her health in the same, which may the bet­ter indure her to pledge it. It will be a way beyond all exception.

Look, here's a Letter pend to the same purpose, read softly.

Madam, teach a Miller to be a Thief; If I doe not like a workman, let my wages be thereafter.

Madam, here's the man I recommended to your Highnesse.

Bring him near,

You are acquainted with the businesse?

Yes an't please your Grace, and am ready to perform it.

Let the Cordiall be made of sudden execution, And convey it to her with this Letter.

Will your Highnesse be pleas'd to signe this his License to practice Phisick and Chirurgery in your Ma­jesties Dominions.

Trippit, keep both the License and the Letter, and put us in mind to signe the one, and seale the other, Let's away. Fellow, be silent, sudden and circumspect.

Your Grace will beare me out in't.

Doubt it not.

Have I nothing else to doe, but to figge from place, from Taverne to Taverne, from corner to corner? Must I be still yawling, and calling, and bauling for you whilst y'are rambling, and roving, and roaming, and potting, and piping, and driveling and snivelling! Am I born to trot after you? to wait upon your taile? or else like a fool, sit moaping at home, with neither clothes to my back nor meat for my belly, nor a penny in my purse?

So now the Game begins.

Must I be thus slighted, and scorn'd, and con­temn'd, and undone by a Runnagate, a Sneap-nose, a thin-gut? Must I daunce attendance after such a shotten herring as you? be a slave to such a Sot as you? such a Bul-pated Milk-sop as you? You a Citizen! you a Trades-man! you a Husband! you a Companion for Gentlemen! mary, come up! You must be prankt up in your Satten Doublet, when I ha' scarce a Smock to my back, nor a Shoe to my foot, nor a Tatter to my tayle, nor a hot bit to put into my belly, from Sunday to Sunday.

Heyday, heyday, heyday!

And heyday, and heyday, and heyday too; Go heyday your base Trulls, your three-half-peny draggle-tayl'd Queanes, that can endure your heydayes, and your mocks, and your mowes, and your taunts for an ounce of Coventree-blue.

As I went to Walsingham.

Go, ye weasel-snouted, addle-pated, buzzle­headed, splatter-footed Moon-calf. Go whistle your Dogs, and your flap-mouth'd Whores, that ye car­ried to the Tap-house, and then ran away and left them to pay for the Reck'ning, when they follow'd ye, and rung ye by th' eares, till they made ye roar like your Mo­ther, when she was delivered of such a coxcombly Boo­by as you.

So, is all out now?

Go, go ye Sycophant, the dregs of the sub­urbs, that can murther a Patient for the hopes of a hun­dred Marks, and then be turn'd out of service for your paines. O how my fingers itch, to set their marks upon those meager Cheeks of thine! But you Sir know, I have all your Villanies upon the score,

[Page 33] and at the next offence,

I will: To morrow expect to heare from me the time and place.

THere's old whispering between them. Pray heav'n they be not hatching of a Cockatrices egge. Look where they come.

Where's Phonilla all this day?

Here Madam.

O are ye there? My heart's much opprest with melancholly! Come Phonilla; Sing the Song, the King likes so well.

Truth, sweetly sung. Come let's away.

Murther will out: A Letter, and a silver Cup! To the fair hands of the most honourable Lady, the La­dy Kettreena these. Good. So much for the preface, Now to the businesse.

The ill Construction of our loves, enforces me to whi­sper my Affection in the Sympathie of thy sufferings: Cheare up, and let thy courage for a while beare what present time cannot remedy. Receive this Cordiall, as a deare pledge of my love, and a certaine meanes of thy health: It will restore thy wasted spirits, and wind up the plum [...]ets of thy weakned Constitution, It will fill thy heart with mirth, and bones with marrow, whose welfare is the studious care of

[Page 35] Evaldus? So now 'tis out. Hah! does the Jade begin to tyre? Must her Plummets be wound up? Nay, It shal ha' my Blessing too, I had a dose of Arsnick

But 'tis gone. Well, if I cannot make it fit for her, the King has made it fit for me: Let me see

'Twill fill thy heart with mirth, and bones with marrow. Good! Muth and Marrow, and a silver Cup, three good Commodities! First I'le up with this. So— Now I'le up with that

Evaldus, we thank ye. Kettreena, we thank ye, Health and wealth's a double purchase.

Sir, if mine eyes may not be made partakers of the Kings Message, make my eares happy with your Re­lation.

D'ye want Restority? Are the plummets of your soule downer? Does your heart want mirth? or your bones marrow?

Sir, What meane ye?

Most honourable Lady, to cut your throat: A­way ye Strumpet.

Sir, will you be pleased—

To slit your nose; Avoid my sight

O what ayle I! In the name of Gold what ayle my bowels thus to gripe? Oh! Her very breath's a Purge; Her eyes are Granadoes, and have set my bloud on fire. I burne like Hell: My liver scorches; My heart is in a fornace, O water, water, water! O, for a Crust of Ice, that I may gnaw and coole my flaming tongue! Oh, my leggs begin to faile, I faint, I faint, I faint! Oh that this earth were snow that I might roule, and roule, and roule! Where are ye ô my bags, my blessed bags! help me, ô help me my deare bags. Oh, will ye suffer me to [Page 36] be thus tormented! What are ye deafe now? are ye dumb? Take, take away the Witch; she comes, she comes, she comes to pinch me with hot Irons, & fils my veynes with boyling lead. O the Witch, the Witch, the Witch, the Witch.

What? falne asleep! How miserable is poore Kettreena that has no happinesse but then! How well quietnesse becomes him! He lies very still; He was wont to snort, that th' whole house was witnesse of his slum­bers, I'm loath to wake him.

I'm affraid he's dead. Sir, Sir, Sir.

Oh, he's dead! He's dead! He's dead!

utterly dead, dead for ever.

Deare Sister, what's the matter?

O he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

Nay, sweet Sister, have patience.

Oh, woe is me, that I have liv'd to see this heavy hower!

Pray Sister be patient, you wrong your self too much.

I care not, so long as I never wrong'd him. Oh my deare Husband is dead, and I am undone, undone for ever!

Come, pray Sister leave the roome, and take some comfort; Your teares cannot recall him.

No, no, I'le never leave him, I'le never leave him thus.

Come, come, let me perswade ye. Nay come, good Sister.

Then let me take my last farewell: Deny me not that good Brother.

I hope he's happier far then I.

Conscience! What tell'st thou me of Consci­ence? Conscience, and Commodity, are two severall Trades: If thou keep the one, the other will scarce keep thee. Conscience, quoth her? I cry my stars mercy. There's a word indeed! You a Mountebanks man! You a hang-man as soon. Tell me of Conscience?

I beseech you, Sir, excuse me. 'Twas but a ha­sty word let slip, before I was aware.

Sir, if you'd be pleas'd to excuse me a little for swearing, I should do wel enough for lying. For indeed, I must confess, swearing goes a litle against my conscience.

Well Sir, I am resolv'd. Conscience, farewell. [Page 38] And now that Blocks remov'd, Quibble shall undertake your faire Instructions, and approve himself a Scholar worthy of so sage a Master.

The Queen's extreamly discontent, that her de­signes have fall'n so crosse.

Who can help it?

This is the fruit of Jealousie; had not that peevish foole been jealous of Kettreena, My conscience tells me this had never been.

Nay, to see the old foole must needs run upon his owne death, and not suffer her to die, whose death he so desired!

Well, 'twas the first time that I was ere engag'd in such a business, and shall be the last.

Nay, to see the luck on't, The counterfeited Letter was found in Pertenax his pocket, and may dis­cover all.

But my feare is, that Quack will be examin'd, and then all will out.

No, Quack did wisely deliver his Message in a [Page 39] disguise; can he but keep his owne counsell, all may be well. In the mean while, I have given out that Kettreena had a hand in the businesse, which perchance may prove an after-game, and strengthen'd with report may leave her to the Law.

I send a Letter and a Cordiall! I'm abus'd.

It appeares, the mischief was meant to Kettree­na, Sir.

But heav'n protected her: Who brought the Letter and the Potion?

The Messenger was a Stranger, Sir.

How habited?

Sir, like a Cavalier, in a slasht Suit, a black Lock, And a gilt Rapier, down to his heels.

We'l make a strict enquiry; Such murther will not long lie smother'd. But how does poor Kettreena take it?

Exceeding heavily Sir, And the worse, that some base tongues would make her accessary.

My soule acquits her. Artesio, let her know, we'l visit her to morrow. Bid her from me cheare up; Upon my honour I'le not rest, till she be righted.

Heav'n blesse your Highnesse.

'Tis certain, there's a challenge pass'd betwixt Bellarmo, and Palladius: I feare the unhappy difference concerning the Birthright, will never be compos'd but by the Oracle. On Wednesday is their Birth-day, and most fit for such solemnity: Formidon, let proclamation be issued forth, that all the Court, upon the paine of our displeasure that day awaite the Oracle, where we in per­son will attend it. Artesio send you warrant out in our name to the Pythian Priests to make their Preparations.

BE it knowne to all men by these presents, that I Jeffery Quibble, am the trusty and right well­beloved servant and kinsman to the renowned, famous, skilfull, learned, able, admirable, incomparable Master of Phisgigge, Cornelius Quack, a man of rare Qualcoms, and singular imperfections, who by his studies abroad, and travells at home, through France, Spaine, Ita­lie, Germany, Denmark, Poland, Finderland, Freezeland, hath marvellously unbefitted himselfe with all manner of Oyles, Waters, Powders, Drugs, Spirits, Balsomes, Syrops, Salves, Sere-cloathes; bountifully unstor'd with all sorts of Preservatives, Conservatives, Restoritives, Antidotes, for all manner of Temperatures, Constitutions, Complexions; Richly unfurnisht with all kind of Prescripts, Deceits, and all other rare Impediments belonging to a man of his De­function, who to the great dimolishment of this Towne, and [Page 45] benefice of this Incorruption, hath redressed himselfe to you, and here sets up his Banck, offering health to the imperfer­mity of your bodies, soundnesse to the impudencie of your limbs, and present cure to your outward Mallanders, and inward exturbances. And for your farther sartifaction of his deficiencie in this kind, Behold his Licence under the hands of her most Excellent Majestie, and Bellarmo her illustrious sonne; which, when occasion shall require it, shall be shewne, to the honour of my renowned Master, Cornelius Quack, and his pragmaticall servant Jeffery Quibble.

But to the purpose, Gentlemen: It may be you will think me more knave then foole, And may be so I am: And now perchance you'l say I'm both by my owne confession: And may be I am so too. Artesio my old Master made me a knave, and my new Master hath made me a foole: And so he'll doe ye all before h'as done with ye. Which that he may the better doe, have patience a while.

Gentlemen, Here's that will doe the deed. Here's Physick of all kinds, for all diseases: Salves of all natures for all sores: Medicines of all compositions, for all constitutions, colours, of all sorts, for all complexions.

Gentlemen, This is a rare man, (though I say't) and hath a thousand secrets more, which next market day you shall have from his owne plentifull mouth. He hath done rare cures by naturall Magick, Sympathies, and Antipathies; But this is Heathen Greek to you: Who would have conceiv'd that Sir Walter Raleighs blood should have cured Goudomors Fistula in ano? But this is likewise Greek to you: Wee'l leave these mysteries to the wise, and tell ye things according to the measure of our apprehensions.

My Master had for taking a Corne out of the great Mogulls toe,—100.1. sterling. For strengthning the Pr: of Orenge's back, 1000. Gilders. For curing the Emperor of a Dropsie, 4000. Rx Dollers. [Page 47] For taking a black Cataract out of his Holinesse his left eye,—600. Checkeens. For curing Card: Richelieu of the Kings evil, 800. French Crownes.

Well Gentlemen, to be short, My Master loves money woundly well, and so does my Masters man. If therefore ye want any thing, greaze my fist with a Tester or two, and ye shall find it in your penny-worths. And why should not I cheat him with as good a conscience, as he you?

But stay! We must have a parting song, before ye goe. Sirrah, Iack, Rogue, Boy, Hoe Iack!

O are you come, Sirrah! Sing these Gentlemen a song. Come, be nimble, 'Twill be your owne another day.

Tis a good Boy!

Now Gentlemen, y'ave heard the truth both sung and said, confirm'd by fooles and children, who ye know speak truth. If after all this ye cannot beleeve, we have lost our breath, and you the benefit.

[Page 49]But to confirme your Confidence, and to magnific the excellence of our skill, I will present such visible demon­strations to your eye, that Doubt shall find no ground to question, and Unbelief shall blush at her own infidelity. And first,

Here is a Soveraigne Balsome, that in the space of one minute and three quarters, shall cure the deepest wound that dagger can inflict, whereof behold sufficient proofe.

Gentlemen, this wound which I have made, shall by the vertue of this Balsome be as quickly cured.

So, now the blood retyres unto his wonted veynes, I feele the Orifice, which even just now had roome enough to lodge my finger, now clos'd, and smoothe, and flesh deliver'd from the sense of paine.

Secondly, here is an excellent Antidote, which taken, shall preserve the taker from the injury of poyson, hot or cold. As for example—

Thirdly, here's a soveraigne Restoritive which shall correct the deadlyest poyson in the height of operation. See ye this swelling Toad, whose poyson taken shall swell ye till ye burst, And from the very Porch of Death this rare Preservative shall soone redeeme ye. Gentlemen, mark how I squeeze this mortall bit into this Boule. Now Gallants, a Health to my Mistresse.

[Page 50]Now pledge it that dare. Mark the operation, Hem! Hem! Hem! Now it begins to work, O I am sick, my bowels gripe, I sweat, I burne, I burst—

Now, my Masters, you that delight in Chimestry, know also, my Master can shew you many rare Experi­ments. He sayes he can make the Philosophers Stone, but saving his Reverence I think he lyes, else he'd be hang'd ere he'd thus Quack for Testers.

But this upon my knowledge: he can bring an Artifi­ciall Resurrection, and Vivification to Mercury, which being mortified into a thousand shapes, assumes againe its owne Body, and returnes to its numericall selfe. He can likewise from the Ashes of a Plant, revive the Plant, and from its Cinders recall it to the Stalk and Leaves againe. Lastly, by the vertue of a thing called Wit, he can doe such wonders at Cribbidge, or New-cut, that the experience thereof shall teach ye more wisdome in an houre, then all the Volume of Thomas Aquinas can afford you in ten dayes: Wherein if you please the next market day he shall give you a plenary satisfaction, if you repaire hither with purses to be handled, and minds to be instructed.

Well Madge, though I pawne my Poppingay Petticoat for't, Ile ha' some of that pouder next market day.

What pouder Cis?

That pouder that will make Iack love Ione.

P'sh, I don't think 'twill work any such ef­fect.

Yes Madge, as sure as I live. Doll our Dairy-maid gave some on't to Nick the Butlers boy, and within an houre after the boy was so mad of her: He would never let her alone, but dogg'd her from corner to corner, and would so tumble her and so touze her: And when com­pany was by her would so gloit and cast sheeps eyes at her, as past. She could goe no where but the boy would make one. Sometimes he would bring her May-bushes, sometimes mellow-Apples, sometimes a Busk-point, sometimes a Silk-lace. And if she spake but a kind word to him, Lord, he would so simper, and so jemper, and so lick his lips, and so scratch his elboe, as 'twas admirable.

Is't possible?

I tell thee Madge, I saw it with my owne eyes, and thought the next time the Mountebank came I'de buy some on't to see what mettle our Frank the Faulkner was made on.

Why sirrah, he loves thee well enough with­out it: Would I know who lov'd me halfe so well.

Yes verily, I confesse I think he loves me dearly well, but yet not so dearly as I'de have him. He's such a maydenly man!—

Why? I'm sure I saw him kisse thee twenty times together, to be sure so often that my teeth water'd soundly.

Twenty times? what's twenty times? what's that? 'Tis done before one can say What's this? Twen­ty times? Tis a mighty piece of businesse. And then forsooth, he must stroak his Hawke, And then forsooth he must feed his Hawke, and then forsooth, he must bathe his Hawke, And then forsooth, he must lie down by his Hawke, and see his Hawke pick her self, and prune her self, and there's such a deal of fidling, and such a deal of fadling, And then forsooth, he must goe abroad a hawking, and stay out all day, and then at night come home as weary as his dogs, and sit without life or soul, That one has as much comfort in him as comes to no­thing.

Well Cis, wou'd some body did but love me halfe so well, a that condition it cost me a fall.

Goodly, goodly, wou'd Antony at George were here to draw his name out a your politique mouth, You are so close, and so wise now.

Why, I am not ashamed to name him, nor he of his name: Well, he has cost me many a bitter sigh in his dayes, Yet I dare take my oath hee's as honest a young man as lives by bread.

Why dost thou sigh? He may leave his honesty when he will, and see ne'r a whit the worse for't.

I care not, so he left it with no body but me; yet in the way of honesty too (I tell ye but so:) Well, no body knowes what I have endur'd for his sake; But I may thank my modesty for't, and my Mother for that. She gave my a Rule forsooth, once, which I ha' beshrew'd her for a thousand times.

What Rule was that, Madge?

She charg'd me, that when any sued for my love, I should be coy, and say Noforsooth, and still No­forsooth, [Page 53] and Noforsooth, which I ha'done so long, that I have almost Noforsooth'd away all my fortunes. But sirrah, (here's none but Thee and I) Ile tell thee. This very day two moneths (well fare all good tokens) Antony at the George would needs ha'me downe into his Wine-celler, and gave me a Pint of Brown-bastard; and being in a good humour, brake his minde to me, And taking a glasse of Wine, wisht it might be his poyson if he did not love me with all his heart.

But did he drink it?

Every drop as I live; Nay more, wou'd may nere store, if he offered not (Ile tell it to thee) to fetch a Licence instantly, and marry me forthwith, if I'de goe with him; But I, like a puppinos'd foole, followed my Mothers directions, and cry'd Noforsooth, to make him the more eager, which he taking in earnest, flung away in a pet, and as I live, took me at my word, and never spake kindly to me since: And this is the fruits of Noforsooth.

And wert thou not serv'd in thy kind, to be such an asse, to refuse a good thing when 'twas of­fer'd?

Nay, Sirrah, See the luck on't; Had he but ask'd me once more, I had resolv'd to ha'taken him at his word: But if he, or any other hereafter take Madge a crying Noforsooth, I'le give him leave to bite off my tongue, and spit it in my face, I tell ye but so.

Dost thou think he has forsaken thee upon't?

I can't tell: I ha'made many a frivolous errand to the George since, And when he sees me, the Gentleman will bite his lip, and put off his hat, but as I live, neither kisse me, nor nothing else, That I came a­way with a flea in mine eare, and in a fustian Fret, and [Page 54] had such Qualmes, and such Swamps come over my stomach all night long—

But art not mightily troubled with him in thy dreames?

O, sirrah, abomination; There's ne'r a night scapes me, on my conscience: Sometimes, methinks I see him twirling up his pretty little black beard: some­times stroaking up his fore-top: sometimes singing that heavenly tune of Walsingham to his Citterne: sometimes crying Anon Anon Sir, and running up stairs: sometimes Very welcome Gentlemen, Is all paid i'th'Rose? which he fetches up with such a grace—As indeed every thing he does becomes him most sweetly. O how I could curse this peevish tongue of mine for saying that last Nofor­sooth. Ah! if he had askt me the Question but once more, verly I had been to morrow two moneths gone: But who can help it?

Well Madge, our conditions are much alike: we must even comfort one another as well as we can.

That's but cold comfort Cis: I but my case is thousand times worse then thine; Thou mayst see him thou lovest every day, and dine together, and sup together, and sleepe together under the same roofe; but I a poore forsaken creature must waste my disconsolate hours in thinking, & in sighing, and in [Weeps] sobbing. Insomuch that I han't eaten a bit of bread that has done me any good these three dayes. But yet I can't choose but laugh to think —Ha, ha, ha, ha, how Frank the Fawlk­ner —Ha, ha, ha, ha, was catch'd in's Roguery last night, Ha, ha, ha, ha.

How? Prithee tell me.

I think my heart will burst when I think on't. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Prithee tell me the conceit.

Sirrah, yesternight when thou wert gone up with my Lady, Frank and I were raking Husbands and Wives in the Embers, And Frank hearing the stayres creake, and thinking thee hadst been comming downe, catcht my Lady fast by the —Ha, ha, ha, ha, middle; but she lent him such a whirrit upon the eare, that all the house rung on't: But 'twould make a Horse break his Halter to see how like an Asse poore Frank lookt and sneakt away with his taile clapt betweene his legs, Ha, ha, ha, ha, Did he not tell thee on't yet?

No verily, I see him not to day: Huds lifelykins, Alas poore heart, But 'tis no matter: Let him keep home adayes then, that he may see what he does, and whom he embraces. But sirrah, now I think on't, I ha some a Dolls pouder, which I stole from her, Till we get more, let's try conclusions with that.

With all my heart, let's: But how shall we give it them?

How? Leave that to me: Frank and I will goe to the George, and drink a pint with Antony, and then we'll send for thee, And I warrant thee Ile spice their Cups, and then

A match! Come, let's way; we shall be both hang'd for staying so long.

Artesio, Can you resolve us yet concerning the death of Pertenax?

Sir, he was open'd, and we apparently find that he was poyson'd.

Goe Artesio, and comfort thy poore afflicted daughter, Let her know, that we are partners in her for­row, and will be a husband to the widow, and take her welfare into our protection.

Heaven blesse your Highnesse.

Does there appeare any new light by your Examination?

Sir, I find there was such a Letter counter­feited from your Highnesse, and a silver Cup was delive­red to Kettreena by a stranger, who after the delivery in­stantly departed. Likewise I find that Pertenax com­ming in the nick, snatcht it from Kettreena's unwilling hand, and in a passion retyr'd into a roome, not suffering her to follow him, where he was found dead an houre after.

Another Examinate faith, that he sent for a dramme of Arsnick the night before, but for what purpose the Examinate knoweth not.

Another Examinate, being one of his fervants, saith, that she harkning at the doore, did heare him say, that he would put in a dose of Arsnick into the Cup for? Ket­treena, which she saw him search in his pockets for; but being suddenly call'd away by her Lady, stayed not to see the rest. And indeed it is generally beleeved, that he was chiefe Agent in his owne death.

Comodus, what account can you give us of this businesse?

Sir, we found in his pocket the Cup and the Letter, but no Arsnick: Upon suspition I examined Ma­dam Lactusia, and one Cornelius Quack, once servant to Artesio, who falter something in their examination, but deny any knowledge of the proceedings: Onely they both heare that Pertenax counterfeited the Letter, to [Page 57] see with what Affection his Lady would receive it.

Even like enough, The just reward of a jealous braine.

But this she added, That when time should serve, she would discover a secret of another nature, which will make such an alteration in the State, as Time could not example: whereupon I committed them both to Prison till a farther Examination.

'Twas wisely done.

See a firme Conveyance made of all Perte­nax his Estate to our use, which we freely give to Ket­treena. And you Comodus, take a speciall care to call in her debts that are upon Book and Specialties.

THe Devill a bit of meat have I gotten these nine dayes, but once a leane scrag end of a Neck of Mutton, which one of my Masters Patients loath'd to eate: Else my whole diet hath been nothing but the overplus of thin Physick-broth, and my drink, the heartlesse reversion of dis-curded Posset-Ale: Inso­much, I had rather be my Masters Hang-man, then his Serving-man; For then perchance I might get a Caft Suit, and a gratuity for a quick dispatch.

Who's at doore there?

Sir, Is Master Doctor within? I have brought him a Urine.

From whom?

From my Lady Albion.

My Master is very busie, and cannot be spoken with these two houres.

Good Sir, my businesse is upon life and death: I pray bring me to him, and I shall be very thankfull.

How shall that appeare?

By this small carnest of a greater Reward.

Wel Sir, I shal make a tryal.

Sir, here is one would speak with you from my Lady Albion.

Bring him in. Now friend, what's your businesse?

Sir, my Lady hath sent you her Urine, and de­sires your Advice.

Glisterpipe.

Sir.

Goe ayre it.

Now Ide as liefe he had bid me gone to supper, but take him in that fault, & hang him.

So, now am I as sure of a crackt Crowne, as my Master is of a whole Angel: But Ile serve him a trick, and save my selfe some labour. Ile make it up againe out of my owne stock.

Has your Lady made no use of any other Doctor formerly?

Yes Sir, she took advice of a Scottish Doctor, but she is not much the better for him: He drew a great deale of money from her Ladiship, who is now faine to give him money to be rid on him— Whisper.

Tis all but Pisse, and tis not the first time my Master has had an eye to my water.

Truly I cannot tel Sir.

This water shews no great defect in her Ladiships stomach.

His Doctorship may sweare it.

Her Ladiship accustomes her self to too thin a diet, eats too much broth, and too many Sillibubs.

Posset-Ale ye meane Sir, a halter stretch ye.

And does not encourage her stomach with good substantiall meat.

Thanks to your miserable purse Sir, he would if he could get it.

Her Ladiships body is much out of order, and there's a Malignant Hypocondriacall Flate within her, which fumes up, and disturbs her Head: Is she not much troubled with the Head-ache?

Yes Sir, exceedingly: She complains of it eve­ry day.

She is likewise much troubled with inflamations, and obstructions in the liver, which causes an inordinate swimming in the Braine, and giddinesse. Is she not apt now and then to speak idly?

O Sir, when the Fit takes her, she speaks never a word of sense: she talks of nothing but Bishops, and Petitions, and I can't tell what, and her tongue runs so wildly, and indeed I think she is scarce sensible some­times of her own sicknesse.

That proceeds altogether from the rude conflu­ence of loose humors. I find by her water, she is much troubled with wind and choller, which occasions a great and frequent heart-burning: Is she not much subject to unaccustomed sadnesse at times?

Extreamly Sir.

I find she has a great imbeeility in her spirits naturall, which causes in her a generall faintnesse, and now and then enclined to the Cardiaca Passio. Is she not often possest with sudden frights, and feares, and jealou­sies, and mis-understandings?

Exceedingly Sir.

I find likewise, that she is much troubled with the Spleene, which occasions stupidity, melancholy, and at times distractions? Is she not often in a brown study?

Very much Sir.

Well, I feare we must be forc'd to draw some blood from her, which as the case stands now with her, I should be loth to doe. There is some bad blood in her veynes; but if a veyne be once opened, the best blood in her body may chance to passe too, which she can hardly spare, without palpable danger. Untill I see her, I can prescribe little. To morrow I shall wait upon her Ladi­ship, and what I shall then find fitting, shall be carefully administred. In the meane while, let her keep her head warme, and be very careful of her Temples: Let her for­beare Salt and Usquebagh: Let her use Moderation in her Exercises, wherein she might not be forc'd to lift her armes too neare her head: And for the relieving of her drooping spirits let her recreate her selfe now and then with a game at Irish: Ler her forbeare Noddy, and Chesse, as Games too serious. Farewell.

Take this, Glisterpipe, to drink my Ladies health.

Pray is Mr. Doctor within?

I have brought him a water.

From whom?

From my Lady Temple.

He cannot be spoken with as yet, unlesse—

I know your mind, Sir, let this quicken you.

Glisterpipe?

Sir.

Who's there?

One that would speak with your Honour from my Lady Temple.

Bring him in: Now friend, what's your busi­nesse?

Sir, my Lady desires your Advice upon her Urine.

Glisterpipe, goe chafe it.

So, there's a shilling more for Glisterpipe.

How long has your Lady been sick?

These three years, Sir: she took a tedious jour­ney to Canterbury, where she conceives she took a surfet with too much Duck, which hath laine very heavy upon her Ladiships stomach ever since.

This water shewes a great diftemper in her prin­cipall Parts, which indeed sets her whole Frame out of Order. Has she taken no Advice formerly?

Sir, she has had many Advisers, but men of mean quality, and of no skill at all.

What were they?

Her poore Neighbours Sir, Coblers, Weavers, Felt-makers, Coachmen, and Brewers Clerks, who pre­tend a great deale of slovenly skill.

In good time! But what Doctors had she?

Some Doctors of very good worth, but this Rabble jeers them, and laughs them out of doors.

I find by her Water she has a foule Liver, & can digest no wholsome food: And her first digestion being bad, makes her second worse: Is she not apt to frights?

Sir, her Ladiships stomach was prittily well purg'd of her Canterbury Duck, and being finely at ease, and laid to rest, a rude company of cock-brain'd Rascals in an humor beset her house, and brake downe all her Glasse-windowes, and put her into such a fright, that she has been the worse for't ever since.

I find by her water, there has been too sudden Alterations in her constitution: Is she not sometimes ve­ry hot, and sometimes very cold?

Yes Sir, sometimes as cold as Charity, some­times as hot as Zeale.

I find obnoxious fumes rising from her stomach, and stupifying her braine: Is she not at times very drowzie?

Yes Sir, Insomuch that the common people think she is troubled with a Liturgic.

A Lethargie you meane. It is a Chronicall dis­ease, and time must cure it. But let her know, that so long as she entertaines this rude Rabble of unsanctified Mechanicks, She can never prosper in her health. Till she banish them, there will be no roome for me. Fare ye well.

But heare ye. Let her Fasting be frequent, and her Prayers, Common.

Sir, I shall pray for your Ladies health.

Fast too.

A faire Reward! Tis Supper time: Ile hence. My Pater Nosters shall be like her Pence.

Wou'd may never sweare if I had not rather ferve the great Turk in his Gallies, then a Court Lady in her humors.

Sirrah, how the poore wenches trembled when we made them stay tother pint. But is my Lady so strict Frank?

O she's a pestilent vixen when she's angry, and as proud as Lucifer. She has been to me knowledge a whole houre by the Houre-glasse making Faces in a Looking-glasse. Sometimes putting out the nether lippe, sometimes bridling in the chinne; sometimes forming of a smile, sometimes figging up her cheeks, sometimes kissing of her white hand, sometimes [Page 66] practising a new French Curtsie. And then Cis must be call'd, and then her Ladiships haire must be crispt, and then her Ladiships face must be complexion'd, and then her Ladiships teeth must be scaled, and then her Ladi­ships browes must be mullited, and then her Ladiships Turkie-egge must be eaten with a good grace. And then her Ladiships foysting dog must be comb'd, and then Cis must be sent for this dressing, and for that petticote, and Madge must be imploy'd for that plaine Hankercher, and then for that purl'd Gorget which Cis was filling all last night. Then fault must be found, then Cis must be chidden, and Madge must be rated: And her sullen La­diship must keep her chamber all day, and at night her peevish Ladiship must be sick and goe to rest. Then at Midnight Cis must be call'd to kil the Flea that keeps her Ladiship from sleeping forsooth. Then Cis must slip on her petticote to see if the Hall-doore be shut, then downe againe to rate the dogs, then downe againe to fetch her Ladiship some Beere. Then Cis must look under the Bed; after that into the Closer, to see if there be ne'r a Cat to break her Ladiships Glasses. Insomuch that I hold it the greatest misery i'th' world, next being a Lady, to be a Chambermaid. But I must away. Tony, farewell.

Nay Frank, we'll have one sresh pint to drink Madge and Cis's Healths before we part.

Anon, anon, presently, presently.

But Tony, Tony, Tony, let it alone, for tis Hawk­ing time; My Hawk has been empty pannel'd these three houres.

Prethee Tony be nimble then.

Now had I as liefe goe a hanging as a hawking— Whatsoere the matter is, I ha'no mind to that sport. Ide rather ha' Cis in my armes, then a leash a Partridges in my poutch: Tis a feat Girle. O that this were my marriage day! on that condition I went barefoot to bed. Pretty Rogue! Well, I'm resolv'd, what ere come on't, I will marry and I must marry, and I will marry ere two dayes come to an end. Let my Lady get her a new Fawlconer, or eate Mutton if she please. O Mutton, Mut­ton, Mutton! Well, I must marry, and I will marry; To day I receive my wages, and to morrow Ile buy a Licence, and next day Cis and Ile clap hands, And hey! then up goe we.

Here Frank, a Health to Cis.

Come, Ile pledge't, wer't a mile to the bot­tome.

Now Tony, fill me a cup: A Health to Madge.

Come away: Madge shall never go unpledg'd whilst I am worth a Pint, nor never want while I am worth a penny.

Thou art grown wondrous kind to day, Tony.

I think the Moone's i'th Hotti-totty, and all the loving Planicles are in Conjunction. Sirrah, I am so strangely taken within these two houres, that I ha'much adoe to keep my selfe honest.

Hudds Wookers, I'm i'th' same Predicature Tony. My Stars lend me honesty enough to light me to bed, and keep Cis out of my way. But tell me, how li­kest thou Cis?

Hougely well I perrest. As I live, tis a dainty Girle: She speaks so wisely and her words are so well [Page 68] plac'd, and she lisps so prettily, and so thweetely, And sirrah they say that lithping wenches are good to kith. Now tell me thy opinion of Madge.

I tell thee Tony, she's as good a creature as ever liv'd in a house, and as well belov'd of the servants. Thou shalt have a dainty huswife, and an excellent Starcher, and one that my Master respects above all the rest. If his Band be to be pinn'd, no body can please him but Madge; When his Cornes are to be cut, none must do't but Madge. If his Cuffe-strings are to be ty'd, none can tye 'em but Madge. When his Muskadine and Egges are to be prepar'd, none can please him but Madge: When his head akes, Madge must hold it: If his back itch, Madge must scratch it: And to her credit be it spoken, he sweares, for a Foot, and a Leg, and a dainty black eye, and a white smoothe skin, and a—

No more good Frank, thou mak'st me mad. My Stars lend me but honesty enough till I have oppor­tunity to lose it.

And me but patience till Thursday.

Why Thursday?

If I breathe, Cis and Ile have a marriage day ont.

Say'st thou me so? Art in carnest? Give me thy hand.

I, as sure as this is flesh, and blood, & knuckles.

If Madge and I don't the like (if she be as willing as I) hang Tony. But shall's marry in our old Cloathes?

Huds diggers, I'de not stay till Friday for the Kings Wardrobe.

A match then! Give me thy clutch, Bring them bither a Thursday morning, by break a day, and wee'l [Page 69] dispatch the businesse before the Crow pisse. Now Frank, here's a Health to the happy day.

True gracious Soveraigne, but we hope for mercy from your gracious hands.

Who promis'd on her Royall faith to stand 'twixt me and danger. Sir, for her deare sake be gracious,

Be pleas'd most Royall Sir to Give me leave to disburthen my conscience of a secret that concernes the State.

Kettreena was the lawfull Queene, whom new­ly borne, I then her Nurse, exchang'd for Augusta your late wife, who was no other but Artesio's daughter.

With all the rest, and say, LONG LIVE OUR QUEENE KETTREENA.