WIT WITHOUT MONEY, A COMEDY. 

 * * * * *

Persons Represented in the Play. 

Valentine, _a Gallant that will not be perswaded to keep his Estate_. 

Francisco, _his younger Brother_. 

_Master_ Lovegood _their Uncle_. 

_A_ Merchant, _Friend to Master_ Lovegood. 

 Fountain, } Bellamore, } _companions of_ Valentine, _and Sutors to the_ Widow. Hairbrain, }

Lance, _a Falkner, and an ancient servant to_ Valentines _Father_. 

Shorthose, _the Clown, and servant to the_ Widow. 

Roger, Ralph, _and_ Humphrey, _three servants to the_ Widow. 

_Three Servants_. 

_Musicians_. 

Lady Hartwel, a _Widow_. 

Isabel, _her Sister_. 

Luce, _a waiting Gentlewoman to the Widow_. 

 * * * * *

_Actus primus. Scena prima. _

 * * * * *

_Enter_ Uncle _and_ Merchant. 

_Merc. _ When saw you _Valentine_?

_Uncle. _ Not since the Horse-race, he's taken up with those thatwoo the Widow. 

_Mer. _ How can he live by snatches from such people? he bore aworthy mind. 

_Uncle. _ Alas, he's sunk, his means are gone, he wants, and whichis worse, Takes a delight in doing so. 

_Mer. _ That's strange. 

_Unc. _ Runs Lunatick, if you but talk of states, he cannot bebrought (now he has spent his own) to think there's inheritance, ormeans, but all a common riches, all men bound to be his Bailiffs. 

_Mer. _ This is something dangerous. 

_Uncle. _ No Gentleman that has estate to use it in keeping house, or followers, for those wayes he cries against, for Eating sins, dullSurfeits, cramming of Serving-men, mustering of Beggars, maintainingHospitals for Kites, and Curs, grounding their fat faiths upon oldCountry proverbs, God bless the Founders; these he would have venturedinto more manly uses, Wit, and carriage, and never thinks of state, ormeans, the ground-works: holding it monstrous, men should feed theirbodies, and starve their understandings. 

_Mer. _ That's most certain. 

_Uncle. _ Yes, if he could stay there. 

_Mer. _ Why let him marry, and that way rise again. 

_Uncle. _ It's most impossible, he will not look with anyhandsomeness upon a Woman. 

_Mer. _ Is he so strange to Women?

_Uncle. _ I know not what it is, a foolish glory he has got, I knownot where, to balk those benefits, and yet he will converse and flatter'em, make 'em, or fair, or foul, rugged, or smooth, as his impressionserves, for he affirms, they are only lumps, and undigested pieces, lickt over to a form by our affections, and then they show. The Loverslet 'em pass. 

_Enter_ Fountain, Bellamore, Hairbrain. 

_Mer. _ He might be one, he carries as much promise; they arewondrous merry. 

_Uncle. _ O their hopes are high, Sir. 

_Fount. _ Is _Valentine_ come to Town?

_Bella. _ Last night, I heard. 

_Fount. _ We miss him monstrously in our directions, for this Widowis as stately, and as crafty, and stands I warrant you--

_Hair. _ Let her stand sure, she falls before us else, come let's goseek _Valentine_. 

_Mer. _ This Widow seems a Gallant. 

_Uncle. _ A goodly Woman, and to her handsomness she bears herstate, reserved, and great Fortune has made her Mistress of a fullmeans, and well she knows to use it. 

_M[e]r. _ I would _Valentine_ had her. 

_Uncle. _ There's no hope of that, Sir. 

_Mer. _ O' that condition, he had his Mortgage in again. 

_Uncle. _ I would he had. 

_Mer. _ Seek means, and see what I'le do, however let the Money bepaid in, I never sought a Gentlemans undoing, nor eat the bread of othermens vexations, you told me of another Brother. 

_Uncle. _ Yes Sir, more miserable than he, for he has eat him, anddrunk him up, a handsome Gentleman, and fine Scholar. 

_Enter three_ Tenants. 

_Mer. _ What are these?

_Unc. _ The Tenants, they'll do what they can. 

_Mer. _ It is well prepared, be earnest, honest friends, and loudupon him, he is deaf to his own good. 

_Lance. _ We mean to tell him part of our minds an't please you. 

_Mer. _ Do, and do it home, and in what my care may help, or myperswasions when we meet next. 

_Unc. _ Do but perswade him fairly; and for your money, mine, andthese mens thanks too, and what we can be able. 

_Mer. _ Y'are most honest, you shall find me no less, and so I leaveyou, prosper your business my friends. [_Ex. _ Mer. 

_Unc. _ Pray Heaven it may, Sir. 

_Lance. _ Nay if he will be mad, I'le be mad with him, and tell himthat I'le not spare him, his Father kept good Meat, good Drink, goodFellows, good Hawks, good Hounds, and bid his Neighbours welcome; kepthim too, and supplied his prodigality, yet kept his state still; mustwe turn Tenants now, after we have lived under the race of Gentry, andmaintained good Yeomantry, to some of the City, to a great shoulder ofMutton and a Custard, and have our state turned into Cabbidge Gardens, must it be so?

_Unc. _ You must be milder to him. 

_Lance. _ That's as he makes his game. 

_Unc. _ Intreat him lovingly, and make him feel. 

_Lance. _ I'le pinch him to the bones else. 

[_Valen. _ _Within_. ] And tell the Gentleman, I'le be with himpresently, say I want money too, I must not fail boy. 

_Lance. _ You'l want Cloaths, I hope. 

_Enter_ Valentine. 

_Val. _ Bid the young Courtier repair to me anon, I'le read to him. 

_Unc. _ He comes, [b]e diligent, but not too rugged, start him, butaffright him not. 

_Val. _ Phew, are you there?

_Unc. _ We come to see you Nephew, be not angry. 

_Val. _ Why do you dog me thus, with these strange people? why, allthe world shall never make me rich more, nor master of these troubles. 

_Tenants. _ We beseech you for our poor Childrens sake. 

_Val. _ Who bid you get 'em? have you not threshing work enough, butChildren must be bang'd out o'th' sheaf too? other men with all theirdelicates, and healthful diets, can get but wind eggs: you with a cloveof Garlick, a piece of Cheese would break a Saw, and sowre Milk, canmount like Stallions, and I must maintain these tumblers. 

_Lance. _ You ought to maintain us, we have maintained you, and whenyou slept provided for you; who bought the Silk you wear? I think ourlabours; reckon, you'll find it so: who found your Horses perpetualpots of Ale, maintain'd your Taverns, and who extol'd you in theHalf-crown-boxes, where you might sit and muster all the Beauties?we had no hand in these; no, we are all puppies? Your Tenants basevexations. 

_Val. _ Very well, Sir. 

_Lance. _ Had you Land, Sir, and honest men to serve your purposes, honest and faithful, and will you run away from 'em, betray your self, and your poor Tribe to misery; mortgage all us, like old Cloaks; wherewill you hunt next? you had a thousand Acres, fair and open: TheKings-Bench is enclos'd, there's no good riding, the Counter is fullof thorns and brakes, take heed Sir, and boggs, you'l quickly find whatbroth they're made of. 

_Val. _ Y'are short and pithy. 

_Lance. _ They say y'are a fine Gentleman, and of excellentjudgement, they report you have a wit; keep your self out o'th' Rain, and take your Cloak with you, which by interpretation is your State, Sir, or I shall think your fame belied you, you have money, and mayhave means. 

_Val. _ I prethee leave prating, does my good lye within thy brainto further, or my undoing in thy pity? go, go, get you home, therewhistle to your Horses, and let them edifie; away, sow Hemp to hang yourselves withal: what am I to you, or you to me; am I your Landlord, puppies?

_Unc. _ This is uncivil. 

_Val. _ More unmerciful you, to vex me with these BaconBroth and Puddings, they are the walking shapes of all mysorrows. 

_3 Tenants. _ Your Fathers Worship would have used us better. 

_Val. _ My Fathers Worship was a Fool. 

_Lance. _ Hey, hey boys, old _Valentine_ i'faith, the old boy still. 

_Unc. _ Fie Cousin. 

_Val. _ I mean besotted to his state, he had never left me themisery of so much means else, which till I sold, was a meer meagrim tome: If you will talk, turn out these Tenants, they are as killing to mynature Uncle, as water to a Feaver. 

_Lance. _ We will go, but it is like Rams, to come again thestronger, and you shall keep your state. 

_Val. _ Thou lyest, I will not. 

_Lance. _ Sweet Sir, thou lyest, thou shalt, and so good morrow. [_Exeunt_ Tenants. 

_Val. _ This was my man, and of a noble breeding: now to yourbusiness Uncle. 

_Unc. _ To your state then. 

_Val. _ 'Tis gone, and I am glad on't, name it no more, 'tis thatI pray against, and Heaven has heard me, I tell you, Sir, I am morefearful of it, I mean, of thinking of more lands, or livings, thansickly men are travelling o' Sundays, for being quell'd with Carriers;out upon't, _caveat emptor_, let the fool out-sweat it, that thinkshe has got a catch on't. 

_Unc. _ This is madness to be a wilful begger. 

_Val. _ I am mad then, and so I mean to be, will that content you?How bravely now I live, how jocund, how near the first inheritance, without fears, how free from title-troubles!

_Unc. _ And from means too. 

_Val. _ Means? why all good men's my means; my wit's my Plow, theTown's my stock, Tavern's my standing-house, and all the world knowsthere's no want; all Gentlemen that love Society, love me; all Pursesthat wit and pleasure opens, are my Tenants; every mans Cloaths fit me, the next fair lodging is but my next remove, and when I please to bemore eminent, and take the Air, a piece is levied, and a Coach prepared, and I go I care not whither, what need state here?

_Unc. _ But say these means were honest, will they last, Sir?

_Val. _ Far longer than your jerkin, and wear fairer, should I takeought of you, 'tis true, I beg'd now, or which is worse than that, Istole a kindness, and which is worst of all, I lost my way in't; yourmind's enclosed, nothing lies open nobly, your very thoughts are Hindsthat work on nothing but daily sweat and trouble: were my way so full ofdirt as this, 'tis true I'd shift it; are my acquaintance Grasiers? butSir, know, no man that I am allied to, in my living, but makes it equal, whether his own use, or my necessity pull first, nor is this forc'd, butthe meer quality and poisure of goodness, and do you think I venturenothing equal?

_Unc. _ You pose me Cousin. 

_Val. _ What's my knowledge Uncle, is't not worth mony? what's myunderstanding, travel, reading, wit, all these digested, my daily makingmen, some to speak, that too much flegm had frozen up, some that spoketoo much, to hold their peace, and put their tongues to pensions, someto wear their cloaths, and some to keep 'em, these are nothing Uncle;besides these wayes, to teach the way of nature, a manly love, communityto all that are deservers, not examining how much, or what's done forthem, 'tis wicked, and such a one like you, chews his thoughts [double], making 'em only food for his repentance. 

_Enter two_ Servants. 

_1 Ser. _ This cloak and hat Sir, and my Masters love. 

_Val. _ Commend's to thy Master, and take that, and leave 'em at mylodging. 

_1 Ser. _ I shall do it Sir. 

_Val. _ I do not think of these things. 

_2 Ser. _ Please you Sir, I have gold here for you. 

_Val. _ Give it me, drink that and commend me to thy Master; lookyou Uncle, do I beg these?

_Unc. _ No sure, 'tis your worth, Sir. 

_Val. _ 'Tis like enough, but pray satisfie me, are not these waysas honest as persecuting the starved inheritance, with musty Corn, thevery rats were fain to run away from, or felling rotten wood by thepound, like spices, which Gentlemen do after burn by th' ounces? do notI know your way of feeding beasts with grains, and windy stuff, to blowup Butchers? your racking Pastures, that have eaten up as many singingShepherds, and their issues, as _Andeluzia_ breeds? these areauthentique, I tell you Sir, I would not change ways with you, unless itwere to sell your state that hour, and if it were possible to spend itthen too, for all your Beans in _Rumnillo_, now you know me. 

_Unc. _ I would you knew your self, but since you are grown such astrange enemy to all that fits you, give me leave to make your Brothersfortune. 

_Val. _ How?

_Unc. _ From your mortgage, which yet you may recover, I'le find themeans. 

_Val. _ Pray save your labour Sir, my Brother and my self will runone fortune, and I think what I hold a meer vexation, cannot be safefor him, I love him better, he has wit at will, the world has means, he shall live without this trick of state, we are heirs both, and allthe world before us. 

_Unc. _ My last offer, and then I am gone. 

_Val. _ What is't, and then I'le answer. 

_Unc. _ What think you of a wife yet to restore you, and tell meseriously without these trifles. 

_Val. _ And you can find one, that can please my fancy, you shallnot find me stubborn. 

_Unc. _ Speak your Woman. 

_Val. _ One without eyes, that is, self commendations, for when theyfind they are handsom, they are unwholsome; one without ears, not givingtime to flatterers, for she that hears her self commended, wavers, andpoints men out a way to make 'em wicked; one without substance of herself; that woman without the pleasure of her life, that's wanton; thoughshe be young, forgetting it, though fair, making her glass the eyes ofhonest men, not her own admiration, all her ends obedience, all herhours new blessings, if there may be such a woman. 

_Unc. _ Yes there may be. 

_Val. _ And without state too. 

_Unc. _ You are disposed to trifle, well, fare you well Sir, whenyou want me next, you'l seek me out a better sence. 

_Val. _ Farewell Uncle, and as you love your estate, let not me hearon't. [_Exit. _

_Unc. _ It shall not trouble you, I'le watch him still, And when his friends fall off then bend his will. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ Isabella, _and_ Luce. 

_Luce. _ I know the cause of all this sadness now, your sister hasingrost all the brave Lovers. 

_Isab. _ She has wherewithall, much good may't do her, prethee speaksoftly, we are open to mens ears. 

_Luce. _ Fear not, we are safe, we may see all that pass, hear all, and make our selves merry with their language, and yet standundiscovered, be not melancholy, you are as fair as she. 

_Isab. _ Who I? I thank you, I am as haste ordain'd me, a thingslubber'd, my sister is a goodly portly Lady, a woman of a presence, shespreads sattens, as the Kings ships do canvas every where, she may spareme her misen, and her bonnets, strike her main Petticoat, and yetoutsail me, I am a Carvel to her. 

_Luce. _ But a tight one. 

_Isab. _ She is excellent, well built too. 

_Luce. _ And yet she's old. 

_Isab. _ She never saw above one voyage _Luce_, and credit meafter another, her Hull will serve again, a right good Merchant: sheplaies, and sings too, dances and discourses, comes very near Essays, apretty Poet, begins to piddle with Philosophic, a subtil Chymick Wench, and can extract the Spirit of mens Estates, she has the light beforeher, and cannot miss her choice for me, 'tis reason I wait my meanfortune. 

_Luce. _ You are so bashfull. 

_Isab. _ It is not at first word up and ride, thou art cozen'd, that would shew mad i' faith: besides, we lose the main part of ourpolitick government: if we become provokers, then we are fair, and fitfor mens imbraces, when like towns, they lie before us ages, yet notcarried, hold out their strongest batteries, then compound too withoutthe loss of honour, and march off with our fair wedding, Colours flying. Who are these?

_Enter_ Franc, _and_ Lance. 

_Luce. _ I know not, nor I care not. 

_Isab. _ Prethee peace then, a well built Gentleman. 

_Luce. _ But poorly thatcht. 

_Lance. _ Has he devour'd you too?

_Fran. _ H'as gulp'd me down _Lance_. 

_Lance. _ Left you no means to study?

_Fran. _ Not a farthing: dispatcht my poor annuity I thank him, here's all the hope I have left, one bare ten shillings. 

_Lan. _ You are fit for great mens services. 

_Fran. _ I am fit, but who'le take me thus? mens miseries are nowaccounted stains in their natures. I have travelled, and I have studiedlong, observed all Kingdoms, know all the promises of Art and manners, yet that I am not bold, nor cannot flatter, I shall not thrive, allthese are but vain Studies, art thou so rich as to get me a lodging_Lance_?

_Lan. _ I'le sell the titles of my house else, my Horse, my Hawk, nay's death I'le pawn my wife: Oh Mr. _Francis_, that I should seeyour Fathers house fall thus!

_Isab. _ An honest fellow. 

_Lan. _ Your Fathers house, that fed me, that bred up all my name!

_Isab. _ A gratefull fellow. 

_Lan. _ And fall by--

_Fran. _ Peace, I know you are angry _Lance_, but I must nothear with whom, he is my Brother, and though you hold him slight, mymost dear Brother: A Gentleman, excepting some few rubs, he were tooexcellent to live here else, fraughted as deep with noble and braveparts, the issues of a noble and manly Spirit, as any he alive. I mustnot hear you; though I am miserable, and he made me so, yet still heis my Brother, still I love him, and to that tye of blood link myaffections. 

_Isab. _ A noble nature! dost thou know him _Luce_?

_Luce. _ No, Mistress. 

_Isab. _ Thou shouldest ever know such good men, what a fair bodyand mind are married! did he not say he wanted?

_Luce. _ What's that to you?

_Isab. _ 'Tis true, but 'tis great pity. 

_Luce. _ How she changes! ten thousand more than he, as handsom men too. 

_Isab. _ 'Tis like enough, but as I live, this Gentleman among tenthousand thousand! is there no knowing him? why should he want? fellowsof no merit, slight and puft souls, that walk like shadows, by leavingno print of what they are, or poise, let them complain. 

_Luce. _ Her colour changes strangely. 

_Isab. _ This man was made, to mark his wants to waken us; alas poorGentleman, but will that keep him from cold and hunger, believe me he iswell bred, and cannot be but of a noble linage, mark him, mark him well. 

_Luce. _ 'Is a handsom man. 

_Isab. _ The sweetness of his sufferance sets him off, O _Luce_, butwhither go I?

_Luce. _ You cannot hide it. 

_Isab. _ I would he had what I can spare. 

_Luce. _ 'Tis charitable. 

_Lance. _ Come Sir, I'le see you lodg'd, you have tied my tonguefast, I'le steal before you want, 'tis but a hanging. 

_Isab. _ That's a good fellow too, an honest fellow, why, this wouldmove a stone, I must needs know; but that some other time. [_Exit_ Lance, _and_ Franc. 

_Luce. _ Is the wind there? that makes for me. 

_Isab. _ Come, I forgot a business. 

_Actus [Secundus]. Scena Prima. _

_Enter_ Widow, _and_ Luce. 

_Wid. _ My sister, and a woman of so base a pity! what was thefellow?

_Luce, _ Why, an ordinary man, Madam. 

_Wid. _ Poor?

_Luce. _ Poor enough, and no man knows from whence neither. 

_Wid. _ What could she see?

_Luce. _ Only his misery, for else she might behold a hundred handsomer. 

_Wid. _ Did she change much?

_Luce. _ Extreamly, when he spoke, and then her pity, like anOrator, I fear her love framed such a commendation, and followed it sofar, as made me wonder. 

_Wid. _ Is she so hot, or such a want of lovers, that she must doatupon afflictions? why does she not go romage all the prisons, and therebestow her youth, bewray her wantonness, and flie her honour, commonboth to beggery: did she speak to him?

_Luce. _ No, he saw us not, but ever since, she hath been mainlytroubled. 

_Wid. _ Was he young?

_Luce. _ Yes, young enough. 

_Wid. _ And looked he like a Gentleman?

_Luce. _ Like such a Gentleman, that would pawn ten oaths for twelvepence. 

_Wid. _ My sister, and sink basely! this must not be, does she usemeans to know him?

_Luce. _ Yes Madam, and has employed a Squire called _Shorthose_. 

_Wid. _ O that's a precious Knave: keep all this private, but stillbe near her lodging: _Luce_, what you can gather by any means, letme understand: I'le stop her heat, and turn her charity another way, tobless her self first; be still close to her counsels; a begger and astranger! there's a bless'dness! I'le none of that; I have a toy yet, sister, shall tell you this is foul, and make you find it, and for yourpains take you the last gown I wore; this makes me mad, but I shallforce a remedy. 

_Enter_ Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain, Valentine. 

_Fount. _ Sirra, we have so lookt for thee, and long'd for thee;this widow is the strangest thing, the stateliest, and stands so muchupon her excellencies. 

_Bel. _ She hath put us off, this month now, for an answer. 

_Hare. _ No man must visit her, nor look upon her, no, not say, goodmorrow, nor good even, till that's past. 

_Val. _ She has found what dough you are made of, and so kneads you:are you good at nothing, but these after-games? I have told you oftenenough what things they are, what precious things, these widows--

_Hare. _ If we had 'em. 

_Val. _ Why the Devil has not craft enough to wooe 'em, there be threekinds of fools, mark this note Gentlemen, mark it, and understand it. 

_Fount. _ Well, go forward. 

_Val_ An Innocent, a knave fool, a fool politick: the last of whichare lovers, widow lovers. 

_Bell. _ Will you allow no fortune?

_Val. _ No such blind one. 

_Fount. _ We gave you reasons, why 'twas needful for us. 

_Val. _ As you are those fools, I did allow those reasons, but as myScholars and companions damn'd 'em: do you know what it is to wooe awidow? answer me coolely now, and understandingly. 

_Hare. _ Why to lie with her, and to enjoy her wealth. 

_Val. _ Why there you are fools still, crafty to catch your selves, pure politick fools, I lookt for such an answer; once more hear me, itis, to wed a widow, to be doubted mainly, whether the state you have beyours or no, or those old boots you ride in. Mark me, widows are longextents in Law upon news, livings upon their bodies winding-sheets, theythat enjoy 'em, lie but with dead mens monuments, and beget only theirown ill Epitaphs: Is not this plain now?

_Bell. _ Plain spoken. 

_Val. _ And plain truth; but if you'le needs do things of danger, dobut lose your selves, not any part concerns your understandings, forthen you are Meacocks, fools, and miserable march off amain, within aninch of a Fircug, turn me o'th' toe like a Weather-cock, kill every daya Sergeant for a twelve month, rob the Exchequer, and burn all theRolls, and these will make a shew. 

_Hare. _ And these are trifles. 

_Val. _ Considered to a Widow, empty nothings, for here you venturebut your persons, there the varnish of your persons, your discretions;why 'tis a monstrous thing to marry at all, especially as now 'tis made;me thinks a man, an understanding man, is more wise to me, and of anobler tie, than all these trinkets; what do we get by women, but oursenses, which is the rankest part about us, satisfied, and when that'sdone, what are we? Crest-fallen Cowards. What benefit can children be, but charges and disobedience? What's the love they render at one andtwenty years? I pray die Father: when they are young, they are likebells rung backwards, nothing but noise and giddiness; and come to yearsonce, there drops a son by th' sword in his Mistresses quarrel, a greatjoy to his parents: A Daughter ripe too, grows high and lusty in herblood, must have a heating, runs away with a supple ham'd Servingman:his twenty Nobles spent, takes to a trade, and learns to spin mens hairoff; there's another, and most are of this nature, will you marry?

_Fount. _ For my part yes, for any doubt I feel yet. 

_Val. _ And this same widow?

_Fount. _ If I may, and me thinks, however you are pleased todispute these dangers, such a warm match, and for you, Sir, were nothurtfull. 

_Val. _ Not half so killing as for you, for me she cannot with allthe Art she has, make me more miserable, or much more fortunate, I haveno state left, a benefit that none of you can brag of, and there's theAntidote against a Widow, nothing to lose, but that my soul inherits, which she can neither law nor claw away; to that, but little flesh, itwere too much else; and that unwholsom too, it were too rich else; andto all this contempt of what she do's I can laugh at her tears, neglecther angers, hear her without a faith, so pity her as if she were aTraytour, moan her person, but deadly hate her pride; if you could dothese, and had but this discretion, and like fortune, it were but anequal venture. 

_Fount. _ This is malice. 

_Val. _ When she lies with your land, and not with you, grows greatwith joyntures, and is brought to bed with all the state you have, you'le find this certain; but is it come to pass you must marry, isthere no buff will hold you?

_Bel. _ Grant it be so. 

_Val. _ Then chuse the tamer evil, take a maid, a maid not worth apenny; make her yours, knead her, and mould her yours, a maid worthnothing, there's a vertuous spell in that word nothing; a maid makesconscience of half a Crown a week for pins and puppits, a maid will becontent with one Coach and two Horses, not falling out because they arenot matches; with one man satisfied, with one rein guided, with onefaith, one content, one bed, aged she makes the wise, preserves the fameand issue; a widow is a Christmas-box that sweeps all. 

_Fount. _ Yet all this cannot sink us. 

_Val. _ You are my friends, and all my loving friends, I spend yourmony, yet I deserve it too, you are my friends still, I ride yourhorses, when I want I sell 'em; I eat your meat, help to wear herlinnen, sometimes I make you drunk, and then you seal, for which I'le doyou this commodity, be ruled, and let me try her, I will discover her, the truth is, I will never leave to trouble her, till I see through her, then if I find her worthy. 

_Hare. _ This was our meaning _Valentine_. 

_Val. _ 'Tis done then, I must want nothing. 

_Hare. _ Nothing but the woman. 

_Val. _ No jealousie; for when I marry, the Devil must be wiser thanI take him; and the flesh foolisher: come let's to dinner, and when I amwell whetted with wine, have at her. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Isabella, _and_ Luce. 

_Isab. _ But art thou sure?

_Luce. _ No surer than I heard. 

_Hare. _ That it was that flouting fellows Brother?

_Luce. _ Yes, _Shorthose_ told me so. 

_Hare. _ He did searc[h] out the truth?

_Luce. _ It seems he did. 

_Har. _ Prethee _Luce_ call him hither, if he be no worse, Inever repent my pity, now sirra, what was he we sent you after, theGentleman i'th' black?

_Enter_ Shorthose. 

_Short. _ I'th' torn black?

_Isab. _ Yes, the same Sir. 

_Short. _ What would your Worship with him?

_Isab. _ Why, my Worship would know his name, and what he is. 

_Short. _ 'Is nothing, he is a man, and yet he is no man. 

_Isab. _ You must needs play the fool. 

_Short. _ 'Tis my profession. 

_Isab. _ How is he a man, and no man?

_Short. _ He's a begger, only the sign of a man, the bush pull'ddown, which shows the house stands emptie. 

_Isab. _ What's his calling?

_Short. _ They call him begger. 

_Isab. _ What's his kindred?

_Short. _ Beggers. 

_Isab. _ His worth?

_Short. _ A learned begger, a poor Scholar. 

_Isab. _ How does he live?

_Short. _ Like worms, he eats old Books. 

_Isab. _ Is _Valentine_ his Brother. 

_Short. _ His begging Brother. 

_Isab. _ What may his name be?

_Short. _ _Orson_. 

_Isab. _ Leave your fooling. 

_Short. _ You had as good say, leave your living. 

_Isab. _ Once more tell me his name directly. 

_Short. _ I'le be hang'd first, unless I heard him Christned, but Ican tell what foolish people call him. 

_Isab. _ What?

_Short. _ _Francisco_. 

_Isab. _ Where lies this learning, Sir?

_Short. _ In _Pauls_ Church yard forsooth. 

_Isab. _ I mean the Gentleman, fool. 

_Short. _ O that fool, he lies in loose sheets every where, that'sno where. 

_Luce. _ You have glean'd since you came to _London_: in theCountry, _Shorthose_, you were an arrant fool, a dull coldcoxcombe, here every Tavern teaches you, the pint pot has so belabouredyou with wit, your brave acquaintance that gives you Ale, so fortifiedyour mazard, that now there's no talking to you. 

_Isab. _ 'Is much improved, a fellow, a fine discourser. 

_Short. _ I hope so, I have not waited at the tail of wit so long tobe an Ass. 

_Luce. _ But say now, _Shorthose_, my Lady should remove intothe Country. 

_Short. _ I had as lieve she should remove to Heaven, and as soon Iwould undertake to follow her. 

_Luce. _ Where no old Charnico is, nor no Anchoves, nor Mastersuch-a-one, to meet at the Rose, and bring my Lady, such-a-ones chiefChamber-maid. 

_Isab. _ No bouncing healths to this brave Lad, dear_Shorthose_, nor down o'th' knees to that illustrious Lady. 

_Luce. _ No fiddles, nor no lusty noise of drawer, carry this pottleto my Father _Shorthose_. 

_Isab. _ No plays, nor gaily foists, no strange Embassadors to runand wonder at, till thou beest oyl, and then come home again, and lyebyth' Legend. 

_Luc. _ Say she should go. 

_Short. _ If I say, I'le be hang'd, or if I thought she would go. 

_Luce. _ What?

_Short. _ I would go with her. 

_Luce. _ But _Shorthose_, where thy heart is?

_Isab. _ Do not fright him. 

_Luce. _ By this hand Mistris 'tis a noise, a loud one too, and fromher own mouth, presently to be gone too, but why, or to what end?

_Short. _ May not a man die first? she'l give him so much time. 

_Isab. _ Gone o'th' sudden? thou dost but jest, she must not mockthe Gentlemen. 

_Luce. _ She has put them off a month, th[e]y dare not see her, believe me Mistris, what I hear I tell you. 

_Isab. _ Is this true, wench? gone on so short a warning! what trickis this? she never told me of it, it must not be, sirra, attend mepresently, you know I have been a carefull friend unto you, attend me inthe Hall, and next be faithful, cry not, we shall not go. 

_Short. _ Her Coach may crack. 

_Enter_ Valentine, Francisco, _and_ Lance. 

_Val. _ Which way to live! how darest thou come to town, to ask suchan idle question?

_Fran. _ Me thinks 'tis necessary, unless you could restore thatAnnuitie you have tipled up in Taverns. 

_Val. _ Where hast thou been, and how brought up _Francisco_, that thou talkest thus out of _France_? thou wert a pretty fellow, and of a handsom knowledge; who has spoiled thee?

_Lan. _ He that has spoil'd himself, to make him sport, and byCopie, will spoil all comes near him: buy but a Glass, if you be yet sowealthy, and look there who?

_Val. _ Well said, old Copihold. 

_Lan. _ My heart's good Freehold Sir, and so you'l find it, thisGentleman's your Brother, your hopeful Brother, for there is no hope ofyou, use him thereafter. 

_Val. _ E'ne as well as I use my self, what would'st thou have _Frank_?

_Fran. _ Can you procure me a hundred pound?

_Lan. _ Hark what he saies to you, O try your wits, they say you areexcellent at it, for your Land has lain long bedrid, and unsensible. 

_Fran. _ And I'le forget all wrongs, you see my state, and to whatwretchedness your will has brought me; but what it may be, by thisbenefit, if timely done, and like a noble Brother, both you and I mayfeel, and to our comforts. 

_Val. _ (A hundred pound!) dost thou know what thou hast said Boy?

_Fran. _ I said a hundred pound. 

_Val. _ Thou hast said more than any man can justifie, believe it:procure a hundred pounds! I say to thee there's no such sum in nature, forty shillings there may be now i'th' Mint and that's a Treasure, I have seen five pound, but let me tell it, and 'tis as wonderful asCalves with five Legs; here's five shillings, _Frank_, the harvestof five weeks, and a good crop too, take it, and pay thy first fruits, I'le come down and eat it out. 

_Fran. _ 'Tis patience must meet with you Sir, not love. 

_Lanc. _ Deal roundly, and leave these fiddle faddles. 

_Val. _ Leave thy prating, thou thinkest thou art a notable wisefellow, thou and thy rotten Sparrow Hawk; two of the reverent. 

_Lanc. _ I think you are mad, or if you be not, will be, with thenext moon, what would you have him do?

_Val. _ How?

_Lanc. _ To get money first, that's to live, you have shewed him howto want. 

_Val. _ 'Slife how do I live? why, what dull fool would ask thatquestion? three hundred three pilds more, I and live bravely: the betterhalf o'th' Town live most gloriously, and ask them what states theyhave, or what Annuities, or when they pray for seasonable Harvests: thouhast a handsome Wit, stir into the world, _Frank_, stir, stir forshame, thou art a pretty Scholar: ask how to live? write, write, writeany thing, the World's a fine believing World, write News. 

_Lan. _ Dragons in _Sussex_, Sir, or fiery Battels seen in theAir at _Aspurge_. 

_Val. _ There's the way _Frank_, and in the tail of these, fright me the Kingdom with a sharp Prognostication, that shall scowrthem, Dearth upon Dearth, like leven Taffaties, predictions ofSea-breaches, Wars, and want of Herrings on our Coast, with bloudyNoses. 

_Lan. _ Whirl-winds, that shall take off the top of _Grantham_Steeple, and clap it on _Pauls_, and after these, a Lenvoy to theCity for their sins. 

_Val. _ _Probatum est_, thou canst not want a pension, goswitch me up a Covey of young Scholars, there's twenty nobles, and twoloads of Coals, are not these ready wayes? Cosmography thou art deeplyread in, draw me a Map from the Mermaid, I mean a midnight Map to scapethe Watches, and such long sensless examinations, and Gentlemen shallfeed thee, right good Gentlemen, I cannot stay long. 

_Lan. _ You have read learnedly, and would you have him follow theseMegera's, did you begin with Ballads?

_Fran. _ Well, I will leave you, I see my wants are grownridiculous, yours may be so, I will not curse you neither; you maythink, when these wanton fits are over, who bred me, and who ruined me, look to your self, Sir, a providence I wait on. 

_Val. _ Thou art passionate, hast thou been brought up with Girls?

_Enter_ Shorthose _with a bag_. 

_Short. _ Rest you merry, Gentlemen. 

_Val. _ Not so merry as you suppose, Sir. 

_Short. _ Pray stay a while, and let me take a view of you, I mayput my Spoon into the wrong Pottage-pot else. 

_Val. _ Why, wilt thou muster us?

_Short. _ No, you are not he, you are a thought too handsome. 

_Lan. _ Who wouldst thou speak withal, why dost thou peep so?

_Short. _ I am looking birds nests, I can find none in your bushbeard, I would speak with you, black Gentleman. 

_Fran. _ With me, my friend?

_Short. _ Yes sure, and the best friend, Sir, it seems you spakewithal this twelve-month, Gentleman, there's money for you. 

_Val. _ How?

_Short. _ There's none for you, Sir, be not so brief, not a penny;law how he itches at it, stand off, you stir my colour. 

_Lan. _ Take it, 'tis money. 

_Short. _ You are too quick too, first be sure you have it, you seemto be a Faulkoner, but a foolish one. 

_Lan. _ Take it, and say nothing. 

_Short. _ You are cozen'd too, 'tis take it, and spend it. 

_Fran. _ From whom came it, Sir?

_Short. _ Such another word, and you shall have none on't. 

_Fran. _ I thank you, Sir, I doubly thank you. 

_Short. _ Well, Sir, then buy you better Cloaths, and get your Hatdrest, and your Laundress to wash your Boots white. 

_Fran. _ Pray stay Sir, may you not be mistaken. 

_Short. _ I think I am, give me the money again, come quick, quick, quick. 

_Fran. _ I would be loth to render, till I am sure it be so. 

_Short. _ Hark in your ear, is not your name _Francisco_?

_Fran. _ Yes. 

_Short. _ Be quiet then, it may Thunder a hundred times, before suchstones fall: do you not need it?

_Fran. _ Yes. 

_Short. _ And 'tis thought you have it. 

_Fran. _ I think I have. 

_Short. _ Then hold it fast, 'tis not fly-blown, you may pay for thepoundage, you forget your self, I have not seen a Gentleman so backward, a wanting Gentleman. 

_Fran. _ Your mercy, Sir. 

_Short. _ Friend, you have mercy, a whole bag full of mercy, bemerry with it, and be wise. 

_Fran. _ I would fain, if it please you, but know--

_Short. _ It does not please me, tell over your money, and be notmad, Boy. 

_Val. _ You have no more such bags?

_Short. _ More such there are, Sir, but few I fear for you, I havecast your water, you have wit, you need no money. [_Exit. _

_Lan. _ Be not amazed, Sir, 'tis good gold, good old gold, this isrestorative, and in good time, it comes to do you good, keep it and useit, let honest fingers feel it, yours be too quick Sir. 

_Fran. _ He named me, and he gave it me, but from whom. 

_Lan. _ Let 'em send more, and then examine it, this can be but aPreface. 

_Fran. _ Being a stranger, of whom can I deserve this?

_Lan. _ Sir, of any man that has but eyes, and manly understandingto find mens wants, good men are bound to do so. 

_Val. _ Now you see, _Frank_, there are more wayes thancertainties, now you believe: What Plough brought you this Harvest, whatsale of Timber, Coals, or what Annuities? These feed no Hinds, nor waitthe expectation of Quarterdaies, you see it showers in to you, you arean Ass, lie plodding, and lie fooling, about this Blazing Star, and thatbo-peep, whining, and fasting, to find the natural reason why a Dogturns twice about before he lie down, what use of these, or what joy inAnnuities, where every man's thy study, and thy Tenant, I am ashamed onthee. 

_Lan. _ Yes, I have seen this fellow, there's a wealthy Widow hardby. 

_Val. _ Yes marry is there. 

_Lan. _ I think he's her servant, or I am couzen'd else, I am sureon't. 

_Fran. _ I am glad on't. 

_Lan. _ She's a good Woman. 

_Fran. _ I am gladder. 

_Lan. _ And young enough believe. 

_Fran. _ I am gladder of all, Sir. 

_Val_. _Frank_, you shall lye with me soon. 

_Fran. _ I thank my money. 

_Lan. _ His money shall lie with me, three in a Bed, Sir, will betoo much this weather. 

_Val. _ Meet me at the Mermaid, and thou shalt see what things--

_Lan. _ Trust to your self Sir. [_Exeunt_ Fran. _and_ Val. 

_Enter_ Fount. Bella. _and_ Valentine. 

_Fount. _ O _Valentine_!

_Val. _ How now, why do you look so?

_Bella. _ The Widow's going, man. 

_Val. _ Why let her go, man. 

_Hare. _ She's going out o'th' Town. 

_Val. _ The Town's the happier, I would they were all gone. 

_Fount. _ We cannot come to speak with her. 

_Val. _ Not to speak to her?

_Bel. _ She will be gone within this hour, either now _Val. _

_Fount. _ _Hare. _ Now, now, now, good _Val. _

_Val. _ I had rather march i'th' mouth o'th' Cannon, but adiew, ifshe be above ground, go, away to your prayers, away I say, away, sheshall be spoken withall. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Shorthose _with one boot on_, Roger, _and_ Humphrey. 

_Rog. _ She will go, _Shorthose_. 

_Short. _ Who can help it _Roger_?

_Raph. _ [_within. _] Help down with the hangings. 

_Rog. _ By and by _Raph. _ I am making up o'th' trunks here. 

_Raph. _ _Shorthose_. 

_Short. _ Well. 

_Raph. _ Who looks to my Ladys wardrobe? _Humphrey_. 

_Hum. _ Here. 

_Raph. _ Down with the boxes in the gallery, and bring away theCoach cushions. 

_Short. _ Will it not rain, no conjuring abroad, nor no devices tostop this journey?

_Rog. _ Why go now, why now, why o'th' sudden now? what preparation, what horses have we ready, what provision laid in i'th' Country?

_Hum. _ Not an egge I hope. 

_Rog. _ No nor one drop of good drink boyes, there's the devil. 

_Short. _ I heartily pray the malt be musty, and then we must comeup again. 

_Hum. _ What sayes the Steward?

_Rog. _ He's at's wits end, for some four hours since, out of hishaste and providence, he mistook the Millars mangie mare, for his ownnagge. 

_Short. _ And she may break his neck, and save the journy. Oh_London_ how I love thee!

_Hum. _ I have no boots nor none I'le buy: or if I had, refuse me ifI would venture my ability, before a Cloak-Bag, men are men. 

_Short. _ For my part, if I be brought, as I know it will be aimedat, to carry any durty dairy Cream-pot, or any gentle Lady of theLaundry, Chambring, or wantonness behind my Gelding, with all herStreamers, Knapsacks, Glasses, Gugawes, as if I were a running flippery, I'le give 'em leave to cut my girts, and slay me. I'le not be troubledwith their Distibations, at every half miles end, I understand my self, and am resolved. 

_Hum. _ To morrow night at _Olivers_! who shall be there boys, who shall meet the wenches?

_Rog. _ The well brew'd stand of Ale, we should have met at!

_Short. _ These griefs like to another Tale of _Troy_, wouldmollifie the hearts of barbarous people, and Tom Butcher weep, _Aeneas_ enters, and now the town's lost. 

_Raph. _ Well whither run you, my Lady is mad. 

_Short. _ I would she were in Bedlam. 

_Raph. _ The carts are come, no hands to help to load 'em? the stufflies in the hall, the plate. [_Within Widow. _] Why knaves there, where be these idle fellows?

_Short. _ Shall I ride with one Boot?

_Wid. _ Why where I say?

_Raph. _ Away, away, it must be so. 

_Short. _ O for a tickling storm, to last but ten days. [_Exeunt. _

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. _

_Enter_ Isabella, _and_ Luce. 

_Luc. _ By my troth Mistris I did it for the best. 

_Isab. _ It may be so, but _Luce_, you have a tongue, a dish ofmeat in your mouth, which if it were minced _Luce_, would do agreat deal better. 

_Luce. _ I protest Mistress. 

_Isab. _ It will be your own one time or other: _Walter_. 

_Walter_ [_within. _] Anon forsooth. 

_Isab. _ Lay my hat ready, my fan and cloak, you are so full ofprovidence; and _Walter_, tuck up my little box behind the Coach, and bid my maid make ready, my sweet service to your good Lady Mistress;and my dog, good let the Coachman carry him. 

_Luce. _ But hear me. 

_Isab. _ I am in love sweet _Luce_, and you are so skilfull, that I must needs undo my self; and hear me, let _Oliver_ pack upmy Glass discreetly, and see my Curles well carried. O sweet_Luce_, you have a tongue, and open tongues have open you knowwhat, _Luce. _

_Luce. _ Pray you be satisfied. 

_Isab. _ Yes and contented too, before I leave you: there's a_Roger_, which some call a Butcher, I speak of certainties, I donot fish _Luce_, nay do not stare, I have a tongue can talk too:and a Green Chamber _Luce_, a back door opens to a long Gallerie;there was a night _Luce_, do you perceive, do you perceive me yet?O do you blush _Luce_? a Friday night I saw your Saint, _Luce_:for t'other box of Marmalade, all's thine sweet _Roger_, this I heardand kept too. 

_Luce. _ E'ne as you are a woman Mistress. 

_Isab. _ This I allow as good and Physical sometime, these meetings, and for the cheering of the heart; but _Luce_, to have your ownturn served, and to your friend to be a dog-bolt. 

_Luce. _ I confess it Mistress. 

_Isab. _ As you have made my sister jealous of me, and foolishly, and childishly pursued it, I have found out your haunt, and traced yourpurposes; for which mine honour suffers; your best waies must be appliedto bring her back again, and seriously and suddenly, that so I may havea means to clear my self, and she a fair opinion of me, else youpeevish--

_Luce. _ My power and prayers Mistress. 

_Isab. _ What's the matter?

_Enter_ Shorthose, _and_ Widow. 

_Short. _ I have been with the Gentleman, he has it, much good maydo him with it. 

_Wid. _ Come, are you ready? you love so to delay time, the daygrows on. 

_Isab. _ I have sent for a few trifles, when those are come; And nowI know your reason. 

_Wid. _ Know your own honour then, about your business, see theCoach ready presently, I'le tell you more then. 

[_Ex. _ Luce, _and_ Shorthose. 

And understand it well, you must not think your sister so tender eyed asnot to see your follies, alas I know your heart, and must imagine, andtruly too; 'tis not your charitie can coin such sums to give away as youhave done, in that you have no wisdom _Isabel_, no nor modesty, where nobler uses are at home; I tell you, I am ashamed to find this inyour years, far more in your discretion, none to chuse but things forpity, none to seal your thoughts on, but one of no abiding, of no name;nothing to bring you to but this, cold and hunger: A jolly Joynturesister, you are happy, no mony, no not ten shillings. 

_Isab. _ You search nearly. 

_Wid. _ I know it as I know your folly, one that knows not where heshall eat his next meal, take his rest, unless it be i'th' stocks; whatkindred has he, but a more wanting Brother, or what vertues. 

_Isab. _ You have had rare intelligence, I see, sister. 

_Wid. _ Or say the man had vertue, is vertue in this age a fullinheritance? what Joynture can he make you, _Plutarchs Morals_, orso much penny rent in the small Poets? this is not well, 'tis weak, andI grieve to know it. 

_Isab. _ And this you quit the town for?

_Wid. _ Is't not time?

_Isab. _ You are better read in my affairs than I am, that's all Ihave to answer, I'le go with you, and willingly, and what you think mostdangerous, I'le sit laugh at. For sister 'tis not folly but gooddiscretion governs our main fortunes. 

_Wid. _ I am glad to hear you say so. 

_Isa. _ I am for you. 

_Enter_ Shorthose, _and_ Humphrey, _with riding rods. _

_Hum. _ The Devil cannot stay her, she'l on't, eat an egg now, andthen we must away. 

_Short. _ I am gaul'd already, yet I will pray, may _London_wayes from henceforth be full of holes, and Coaches crack their wheels, may zealous Smiths so housel all our Hackneys, that they may feelcompunction in their feet, and tire at _High-gate_, may it rainabove all Almanacks till Carriers sail, and the Kings Fish-monger ridelike _Bike Arion_ upon a Trout to _London_. 

_Hum. _ At S. _Albanes_, let all the Inns be drunk, not an Hostsober to bid her worship welcom. 

_Short. _ Not a Fiddle, but all preach't down with Puritans; no meatbut Legs of Beef. 

_Hum. _ No beds but Wool-Packs. 

_Short. _ And those so crammed with Warrens of starved Fleas thatbite like Bandogs; let _Mims_ be angry at their S. _Bel-Swagger_, and we pass in the heat on't and be beaten, beaten abominably, beatenhorse and man, and all my Ladies linnen sprinkled with suds anddish-water. 

_Short. _ Not a wheel but out of joynt. 

_Enter_ Roger _laugh-ing. _

_Hum. _ Why dost thou laugh?

_Rog. _ There's a Gentleman, and the rarest Gentleman, and makes therarest sport. 

_Short. _ Where, where?

_Rog. _ Within here, h'as made the gayest sport with _Tom_ theCoachman, so tewed him up with Sack that he lies lashing a But ofMalmsie for his Mares. 

_Short. _ 'Tis very good. 

_Rog. _ And talks and laughs, and sings the rarest songs, and_Shorthose_, he has so maul'd the Red Deer pies, made such an almsi'th' butterie. 

_Short. _ Better still. 

_Enter_ Val. Widow. 

_Hum. _ My Lady in a rage with the Gentleman?

_Short. _ May he anger her into a feather. [_Exeunt. _

_Wid. _ I pray tell me, who sent you hither? for I imagine it is notyour condition, you look so temperately, and like a Gentleman, to ask methese milde questions. 

_Val. _ Do you think I use to walk of errands, gentle Lady, or dealwith women out of dreams from others?

_Wid. _ You have not know[n] me sure?

_Val. _ Not much. 

_Wid. _ What reason have you then to be so tender of my credit, youare no kinsman?

_Val. _ If you take it so, the honest office that I came to do you, is not so heavy but I can return it: now I perceive you are too proud, not worth my visit. 

_Wid. _ Pray stay, a little proud. 

_Val. _ Monstrous proud, I griev'd to hear a woman of your value, and your abundant parts stung by the people, but now I see 'tis true, you look upon me as if I were a rude and saucie fellow that borrowed allmy breeding from a dunghil, or such a one, as should now fall andworship you in hope of pardon: you are cozen'd Lady, I came to proveopinion a loud liar, to see a woman only great in goodness, and Mistressof a greater fame than fortune, but--

_Wid. _ You are a strange Gentleman, if I were proud now, I should bemonstrous angry, which I am not, and shew the effects of pride; I shoulddespise you, but you are welcom Sir: To think well of our selves, if wedeserve it, it is a lustre in us, and every good we have, strives toshew gracious, what use is it else? old age like Seer-trees, is seldomseen affected, stirs sometimes at rehearsal of such acts as his daringyouth endeavour'd. 

_Val. _ This is well, and now you speak to the purpose, you pleaseme, but to be place proud?

_Wid. _ If it be our own, why are we set here with distinction else, degrees, and orders given us? In you men, 'tis held a coolness, if youlose your right, affronts and loss of honour: streets, and walls, andupper ends of tables, had they tongues could tell what blood hasfollowed, and what feud about your ranks; are we so much below you, thattill you have us, are the tops of nature, to be accounted drones withouta difference? you will make us beasts indeed. 

_Val. _ Nay worse than this too, proud of your cloaths, they sweara Mercers Lucifer, a tumour tackt together by a Taylour, nay yet worse, proud of red and white, a varnish that butter-milk can better. 

_Wid. _ Lord, how little will vex these poor blind people! if mycloaths be sometimes gay and glorious, does it follow, my mind must bemy Mercers too? or say my beauty please some weak eyes, must it pleasethem to think, that blows me up, that every hour blows off? this is anInfants anger. 

_Val. _ Thus they say too, what though you have a Coach linedthrough with velvet, and four fair _Flanders_ mares, why should thestreets be troubled continually with you, till Carmen curse you? canthere be ought in this but pride of shew Lady, and pride of bum-beating, till the learned lawyers with their fat bags, are thrust against thebulks till all their causes crack? why should this Lady, and t'otherLady, and the third sweet Lady, and Madam at _Mile-end_, be dailyvisited, and your poorer neighbours, with course napfes neglected, fashions conferr'd about, pouncings, and paintings, and young mensbodies read on like Anatomies. 

_Wid. _ You are very credulous, and somewhat desperate, to deliverthis Sir, to her you know not, but you shall confess me, and find I willnot start; in us all meetings lie open to these lewd reports, and ourthoughts at Church, our very meditations some will swear, which allshould fear to judge, at least uncharitably, are mingled with yourmemories, cannot sleep, but this sweet Gentleman swims in our fancies, that scarlet man of war, and that smooth senior; not dress our headswithout new ambushes, how to surprize that greatness, or that glorie;our very smiles are subject to constructions; nay Sir, it's come to thiswe cannot pish, but 'tis a favour for some fool or other: should weexamine you thus, wer't not possible to take you without Perspectives?

[_Val. _] It may be, but these excuse not. 

_Wid. _ Nor yours force no truth Sir, what deadly tongues you have, and to those tongues what hearts, and what inventions? O' my conscience, and 'twere not for sharp justice, you would venture to aim at your ownmothers, and account it glorie to say you had done so: all you think arecounsels, and cannot erre, 'tis we still that shew double, giddy, orgorg'd with passion; we that build Babels for mens conclusions, we thatscatter, as day does his warm light; our killing curses over Godscreatures, next to the devils malice: lets intreat your good words. 

_Val. _ Well, this woman has a brave soul. 

_Wid. _ Are not we gaily blest then, and much beholding to you foryour substance? you may do what you list, we what beseems us, andnarrowly do that too, and precisely, our names are served in else atOrdinaries, and belcht abroad in Taverns. 

_Val. _ O most brave Wench, and able to redeem an age of women. 

_Wid. _ You are no Whoremasters? Alas, no, Gentlemen, it were animpudence to think you vicious: you are so holy, handsome Ladies frightyou, you are the cool things of the time, the temperance, meer Emblemsof the Law, and veils of Vertue, you are not daily mending like DutchWatches, and plastering like old Walls; they are not Gentlemen, thatwith their secret sins increase our Surgeons, and lie in ForaignCountries, for new sores; Women are all these Vices; you are notenvious, false, covetous, vain-glorious, irreligious, drunken, revengeful, giddie-eyed like Parrots, eaters of others honours. 

_Val. _ You are angry. 

_Wid. _ No by my troth, and yet I could say more too, for when menmake me angry, I am miserable. 

_Val. _ Sure 'tis a man, she could not bear it thus bravely else, itmay be I am tedious. 

_Wid. _ Not at all, Sir, I am content at this time you shouldtrouble me. 

_Val. _ You are distrustful. 

_Wid. _ Where I find no truth, Sir. 

_Val. _ Come, come, you are full of passion. 

_Wid. _ Some I have, I were too near the nature o' God else. 

_Val. _ You are monstrous peevish. 

_Wid. _ Because they are monstrous foolish, and know not how to usethat should try me. 

_Val. _ I was never answered thus; were you never drunk Lady?

_Wid. _ No sure, not drunk, Sir; yet I love good Wine, as I lovehealth and joy of heart, but temperately, why do you ask that question?

_Val. _ For that sin that they most charge you with, is this sin'sservant, they say you are monstrous--

_Wid. _ What, Sir, what?

_Pal. _ Most strangely. 

_Wid. _ It has a name sure?

_Pal. _ Infinitely lustful, without all bounds, they swear youkill'd your Husband. 

_Wid. _ Let us have it all for Heavens sake, 'tis good mirth, Sir. 

_Val. _ They say you will have four now, and those four stuck infour quarters, like four winds to cool you: will she not cry nor curse?

_Wid. _ On with your story. 

_Val. _ And that you are forcing out of dispensations with sums ofmoney to that purpose. 

_Wid. _ Four Husbands! should not I be blest, Sir, for example?Lord, what should I do with them? turn a Malt-mill, or Tithe them outlike Town-bulls to my Tenants, you come to make me angry, but youcannot. 

_Val. _ I'le make you merry then, you are a brave Woman, and indespite of envy a right one, go thy wayes, truth thou art as good aWoman, as any Lord of them all can lay his Leg over, I do not oftencommend your Sex. 

_Wid. _ It seems so, your commendations are so studied for. 

_Val. _ I came to see you and sift you into Flowr to know yourpureness, and I have found you excellent, I thank you; continue so, andshew men how to tread, and women how to follow: get an Husband, anhonest man, you are a good woman, and live hedg'd in from scandal, lethim be too an understanding man, and to that stedfast; 'tis pity yourfair Figure should miscarry, and then [you] are fixt: farewel. 

_Wid. _ Pray stay a little, I love your company now you are sopleasant, and to my disposition set so even. 

_Val. _ I can no longer. [_Exit. _

_Wid. _ As I live a fine fellow, this manly handsome bluntness shewshim honest; what is he, or from whence? bless me, four Husbands! howprettily he fooled me into Vices, to stir my jealousie, and find mynature; a proper Gentleman: I am not well o'th' sudden, such a companionI could live and dye with, his angers are meer mirth. 

_Enter_ Isabella. 

_Isa. _ Come, come, I am ready. 

_Wid. _ Are you so?

_Isa. _ What ails she? the Coach stales, and the people, the daygoes on, I am as ready now as you desire, Sister: fie, who stays now, why do you sit and pout thus?

_Wid. _ Prethee be quiet, I am not well. 

_Isa. _ For Heav'us sake let's not ride staggering in the night, come, pray you take some Sweet-meats in your pocket, if your stomach--

_Wid. _ I have a little business. 

_Isab. _ To abuse me, you shall not find new dreams, and newsuspicions, to horse withal. 

_Wid. _ Lord who made you a Commander! hey ho, my heart. 

_Isab. _ Is the wind come thither, and Coward like, do you lose yourColours to 'em? are you sick o'th' _Valentine_? sweet Sister, comelet's away, the Country will so quicken you, and we shall live sosweetly: _Luce_, my Ladies Cloak; nay, you have put me into such agog of going, I would not stay for all the world; if I live here, youhave so knock'd this love into my head, that I shall love any body, andI find my body, I know not how, so apt--pray let's be gone, Sister, I stand on thorns. 

_Wid. _ I prethee _Isabella_, i'faith I have some business thatconcerns me, I will suspect no more, here, wear that for me, and I'lepay the hundred pound you owe your Taylor. 

_Enter_ Shorthose, Roger, Humphrey, Ralph. 

_Isab. _ I had rather go, but--

_Wid. _ Come walk in with me, we'll go to Cards, unsaddle theHorses. 

_Short. _ A Jubile, a Jubile, we stay, Boys. 

_Enter_ Uncle, Lan. Foun. Bella. Harebrain _following_. 

_Unc. _ Are they behind us?

_Lan. _ Close, close, speak aloud, Sir. 

_Unc. _ I am glad my Nephew has so much discretion, at length tofind his wants: did she entertain him?

_Lance. _ Most bravely, nobly, and gave him such a welcome!

_Unc. _ For his own sake do you think?

_Lance. _ Most certain, Sir, and in his own cause bestir'd himselftoo, and wan such liking from her, she dotes on him, h'as the command ofall the house already. 

_Unc. _ He deals not well with his friends. 

_Lance. _ Let him deal on, and be his own friend, he has most needof her. 

_Unc. _ I wonder they would put him--

_Lan. _ You are in the right on't, a man that must raise himself, Iknew he would couzen 'em, and glad I am he has: he watched occasion, andfound it i'th' nick. 

_Unc. _ He has deceived me. 

_Lan. _ I told you howsoever he wheel'd about, he would charge homeat length: how I could laugh now, to think of these tame fools!

_Unc. _ 'Twas not well done, because they trusted him, yet. 

_Bel. _ Hark you Gentlemen. 

_Unc. _ We are upon a business, pray excuse us, they have it home. 

_Lane. _ Come let it work good on Gentlemen. 

[_Exeunt_ Uncle, Lance. 

_Font. _ 'Tis true, he is a knave, I ever thought it. 

_Hare. _ And we are fools, tame fools. 

_Bell. _ Come let's go seek him, he shall be hang'd before he coltus basely. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Isabella, Luce. 

_Isab. _ Art sure she loves him?

_Luce. _ Am I sure I live? and I have clapt on such a commendationon your revenge. 

_Isab. _ Faith, he is a pretty Gentleman. 

_Luce. _ Handsome enough, and that her eye has found out. 

_Isa. _ He talks the best they say, and yet the maddest. 

_Luce. _ H'as the right way. 

_Isa. _ How is she?

_Luce. _ Bears it well, as if she cared not, but a man may see withhalf an eye through all her forced behaviour, and find who is her_Valentine_. 

_Isa. _ Come let's go see her, I long to prosecute. 

_Luce. _ By no means Mistress, let her take better hold first. 

_Isab. _ I could burst now. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Valentine, Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain. 

_Val. _ Upbraid me with your benefits, you Pilchers, you shotten, sold, slight fellows? was't not I that undertook you first from emptybarrels, and brought those barking mouths that gaped like bung-holes toutter sence? where got you understanding? who taught you manners and aptcarriage to rank your selves? who filled you in fit Taverns? were thoseborn with your worships when you came hither? what brought you from theUniversities of moment matter to allow you, besides your small basesentences?

_Bell. _ 'Tis well, Sir. 

_Val. _ Long Cloaks with two-hand-rapiers, boot-hoses withpenny-poses, and twenty fools opinions, who looked on you but pipingrites that knew you would be prizing, and Prentices in Paul'sChurch-yard, that scented your want of _Britains_ Books. 

_Enter_ Widow, Luce, Hairbrain. 

_Font. _ This cannot save you. 

_Val. _ Taunt my integrity you Whelps?

_Bell. _ You may talk the stock we gave you out, but see no further. 

_Hair. _ You tempt our patience, we have found you out, and whatyour trust comes to, ye're well feathered, thank us, and think now of anhonest course, 'tis time; men now begin to look, and narrowly into yourtumbling tricks, they are stale. 

_Wid. _ Is not that he?

_Luce. _ 'Tis he. 

_Wid. _ Be still and mark him. 

_Val. _ How miserable will these poor wretches be when I forsake'em! but things have their necessities, I am sorry, to what a vomit mustthey turn again, now to their own dear Dunghil breeding; never hopeafter I cast you off, you men of _Motley_, you most undone thingsbelow pity, any that has a soul and six-pence dares relieve you, my nameshall bar that blessing, there's your Cloak, Sir, keep it close to you, it may yet preserve you a fortnight longer from the fool; your Hat, praybe covered, and there's the Sattin that your Worship sent me, will serveyou at a Sizes yet. 

_Fount. _ Nay, faith Sir, you may e'ne rub these out now. 

_Val. _ No such relique, nor the least rag of such a sordid weaknessshall keep me warm, these Breeches are mine own, purchased, and paidfor, without your compassion, a Christian Breeches founded inBlack-Friers, and so I'le maintain 'em. 

_Hare. _ So they seem, Sir. 

_Val. _ Only the thirteen shillings in these Breeches, and the oddgroat, I take it, shall be yours, Sir, a mark to know a Knave by, praypreserve it, do not displease more, but take it presently, now help meoff with my Boots. 

_Hare. _ We are no Grooms, Sir. 

_Val. _ For once you shall be, do it willingly, or by this hand I'lemake you. 

_Bell. _ To our own, Sir, we may apply our hands. 

_Val. _ There's your Hangers, you may deserve a strong pair, and agirdle will hold you without buckles; now I am perfect, and now theproudest of your worships tell me I am beholding to you. 

_Fount. _ No such matter. 

_Val. _ And take heed how you pity me, 'tis dangerous, exceedingdangerous, to prate of pity; which are the poorer? you are now puppies;I without you, or you without my knowledge? be Rogues, and so be gone, be Rogues and reply not, for if you do--

_Bell. _ Only thus much, and then we'll leave you: the Air is farsharper than our anger, Sir, and these you may reserve to rail inwarmer. 

_Hare. _ Pray have a care, Sir, of your health. [_Ex. Lovers. _

_Val. _ Yes Hog-hounds, more than you can have of your wits; 'tiscold, and I am very sensible, extreamly cold too, yet I will not off, till I have shamed these Rascals; I have indured as ill heats asanother, and every way if one could perish my body, you'll bear theblame on't; I am colder here, not a poor penny left. 

_Enter_ Uncle _with a Bag_. 

_Unc. _ 'Thas taken rarely, and now he's flead he will be ruled. 

_Lan. _ To him, tew him, abuse him, and nip him close. 

_Unc. _. Why how now, Cousin, sunning your self this weather?

_Val. _ As you see, Sir, in a hot fit, I thank my friends. 

_Unc. _ But Cousin, where are your Cloaths man? those are noinheritance, your scruple may compound with those I take it, this is nofashion, Cousin. 

_Val. _ Not much followed, I must confess; yet Uncle I determine totry what may be done next Term. 

_Lance. _ How came you thus, Sir, for you are strangely moved. 

_Val. _ Rags, toys and trifles, fit only for those fools that firstpossessed 'em, a[n]d to those Knaves they are rendred. Freemen, Uncle, ought to appear like innocents, old _Adam_, a fair Fig-leaf sufficient. 

_Unc. _ Take me with you, were these your friends, that clear'd youthus?

_Val. _ Hang friends, and even reckonings that make friends. 

_Unc. _ I thought till now, there had been no such living, no suchpurchase, for all the rest is labour, as a list of honourable friends;do such men as you, Sir, in lieu of all your understandings, travels, and those great gifts of nature, aim at no more than casting off yourCoats? I am strangely cozen'd. 

_Lance. _ Should not the Town shake at the cold you feel now, andall the Gentry suffer interdiction, no more sense spoken, all things_Goth_ and _Vandal_, till you be summed again, Velvets and Scarlets, anointed with gold Lace, and Cloth of silver turned into _Spanish_Cottens for a penance, wits blasted with your Bulls and Taverns withered, as though the Term lay at _St. Albans_?

_Val. _ Gentlemen, you have spoken long and level, I beseech youtake breath a while and hear me; you imagine now, by the twirling ofyour strings, that I am at the last, as also that my friends are flownlike Swallows after Summer. 

_Unc. _ Yes, Sir. 

_Val. _ And that I have no more in this poor Pannier, to raise me upagain above your rents, Uncle. 

_Unc. _ All this I do believe. 

_Val. _ You have no mind to better me. 

_Unc. _ Yes, Cousin, and to that end I come, and once more offer youall that my power is master of. 

_Val. _ A match then, lay me down fifty pounds there. 

_Unc. _ There it is, Sir. 

_Val. _ And on it write, that you are pleased to give this, as dueunto my merit, without caution of land redeeming, tedious thanks, orthrift hereafter to be hoped for. 

_Unc. _ How? [Luce _lays a Suit and Letter at the door. _

_Val. _ Without daring, when you are drunk, to relish of revilings, to which you are prone in Sack, Uncle. 

_Unc. _ I thank you, Sir. 

_Lance. _ Come, come away, let the young wanton play a while, away Isay, Sir, let him go forward with his naked fashion, he will seek youtoo morrow; goodly weather, sultry hot, sultry, how I sweat!

_Unc. _ Farewel, Sir. [_Exeunt_ Uncle _and_ Lance. 

_Val. _ Would I sweat too, I am monstrous vext, and cold too; andthese are but thin pumps to walk the streets in; clothes I must get, this fashion will not fadge with me; besides, 'tis an ill winterwear, --What art thou? yes, they are clothes, and rich ones, some foolhas left 'em: and if I should utter--what's this paper here? Let thesebe only worn by the most noble and deserving Gentleman _Valentine, _--droptout o'th' clouds! I think they are full of gold too; well, I'le leavemy wonder, and be warm again, in the next house I'le shift. [_Exit. _

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima. _

_Enter_ Francisco, Uncle, _and_ Lance. 

_Fran. _ Why do you deal thus with him? 'tis unnobly. 

_Unc. _ Peace Cousin peace, you are too tender of him, he must bedealt thus with, he must be cured thus, the violence of his disease_Francisco, _ must not be jested with, 'tis grown infectious, andnow strong Corrosives must cure him. 

_Lance. _ H'as had a stinger, has eaten off his clothes, the nexthis skin comes. 

_Unc. _ And let it search him to the bones, 'tis better, 'twill makehim feel it. 

_Lance. _ Where be his noble friends now? will his fantasticalopinions cloath him, or the learned Art of having nothing feed him?

_Unc. _ It must needs greedily, for all his friends have flung himoff, he is naked, and where to skin himself again, if I know, or candevise how he should get himself lodging, his Spirit must be bowed, andnow we have him, have him at that we hoped for. 

_Lance. _ Next time we meet him cracking of nuts, with half a cloakabout him, for all means are cut off, or borrowing sixpence, to shew hisbounty in the pottage Ordinary?

_Fran. _ Which way went he?

_Lance. _ Pox, why should you ask after him, you have been trimm'dalready, let him take his fortune, [he] spun it out himself, Sir, there's no pitie. 

_Unc. _ Besides some good to you now, from this miserie. 

_Fran. _ I rise upon his ruines! fie, fie, Uncle, fie honest_Lance. _ Those Gentlemen were base people, that could so soon takefire to his destruction. 

_Unc. _ You are a fool, you are a fool, a young man. 

_Enter_ Valentine. 

_Val. _ Morrow Uncle, morrow _Frank_, sweet _Frank_, andhow, and how d'ee, think now, how shew matters? morrow Bandog. 

_Unc. _ How?

_Fran. _ Is this man naked, forsaken of his friends?

_Val. _ Th'art handsom, _Frank_, a pretty Gentleman, i'faiththou lookest well, and yet here may be those that look as handsom. 

_Lance. _ Sure he can conjure, and has the Devil for his Tailor. 

_Unc. _ New and rich! 'tis most impossible he should recover. 

_Lan. _ Give him this luck, and fling him into the Sea. 

_Unc. _ 'Tis not he, imagination cannot work this miracle. 

_Val. _ Yes, yes, 'tis he, I will assure you Uncle, the very he, thehe your wisdom plaid withall, I thank you for't, neighed at hisnakednesse, and made his cold and poverty your pastime; you see I live, and the best can do no more Uncle, and though I have no state, I keepthe streets still, and take my pleasure in the Town, like a poorGentleman, wear clothes to keep me warm, poor things they serve me, canmake a shew too if I list, yes uncle, and ring a peal in my pockets, ding dong, uncle, these are mad foolish wayes, but who can help 'em?

_Unc. _ I am amazed. 

_Lan. _ I'le sell my Copyhold, for since there are such excellentnew nothings, why should I labour? is there no Fairy haunts him, no Rat, nor no old woman?

_Unc. _ You are _Valentine_. 

_Val. _ I think so, I cannot tell, I have been call'd so, and somesay Christened, why do you wonder at me, and swell, as if you had met aSergeant fasting, did you ever know desert want? y'are fools, a littlestoop there may be to allay him, he would grow too rank else, a smalleclipse to shadow him, but out he must break, glowingly again, and witha great lustre, look you uncle, motion and majesty. 

_Unc. _ I am confounded. 

_Fran. _ I am of his faith. 

_Val. _ Walk by his careless kinsman, and turn again and walk, andlook thus Uncle, taking some one by the hand, he loves best, leave themto the mercy of the hog-market, come _Frank_, Fortune is now myfriend, let me instruct thee. 

_Fran. _ Good morrow Uncle, I must needs go with him. 

_Val. _ Flay me, and turn me out where none inhabits, within twohours I shall be thus again, now wonder on, and laugh at your ownignorance. [_Ex. _ Val. _and_ Franc. 

_Unc. _ I do believe him. 

_Lan. _ So do I, and heartily upon my conscience, burie him starknaked, he would rise again, within two hours imbroidered: sowmustard-seeds, and they cannot come up so thick as his new sattens do, and clothes of silver, there's no striving. 

_Unc. _ Let him play a while then, and let's search out what hand:--

_Lan. _ I, there the game lies. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Fountain, Bellamore, _and_ Harebrain. 

_Foun. _ Come, let's speak for our selves, we have lodg'd him sureenough, his nakedness dare no[t] peep out to cross us. 

_Bel. _ We can have no admittance. 

_Hare. _ Let's in boldly, and use our best arts, who she deigns tofavour, we are all content. 

_Foun. _ Much good may do her with him, no civil wars. 

_Bel. _ By no means, now do I wonder in what old tod Ivie he lieswhistling for means, nor clothes he hath none, nor none will trust him, we have made that side sure, teach him a new wooing. 

_Hare. _ Say it is his Uncles spite. 

_Foun. _ It is all one Gentlemen, 'thas rid us of a fairincumbrance, and makes us look about to our own fortunes. Who are these?

_Enter_ Isabel _and_ Luce. 

_Isab. _ Not see this man yet! well, I shall be wiser: but_Luce_, didst ever know a woman melt so? she is finely hurt tohunt. 

_Luce. _ Peace, the three Suitors. 

_Isab. _ I could so titter now and laugh, I was lost _Luce_, and I must love, I know not what; O _Cupid_, what pretty gins thouhast to halter Woodcocks! and we must into the Country in all haste, _Luce_. 

_Luce. _ For Heaven's sake, Mistris. 

_Isab. _ Nay, I have done, I must laugh though; but Scholar, I shallteach you. 

_Foun. _ 'Tis her sister. 

_Bel. _ Save you Ladies. 

_Lab. _ Fair met Gentlemen, you are visiting my sister, I assure myself. 

_Hare. _ We would fain bless our eyes. 

_Isab. _ Behold and welcom, you would see her?

_Foun. _ 'Tis our business. 

_Isab. _ You shall see her, and you shall talk with her. 

_Luce. _ She will not see 'em, nor spend a word. 

_Isab. _ I'le make her fr[e]t a thousand, nay now I have found thes[c]ab, I will so scratch her. 

_Luce. _ She cannot endure 'em. 

_Isab. _ She loves 'em but too dearly, come follow me, I'le bringyou toth' party Gentlemen, then make your own conditions. 

_Luce. _ She is sick you know. 

_Isab. _ I'le make her well, or kill her, and take no idle answer, you are fools then, nor stand off for her state, she'I scorn you allthen, but urge her still, and though she fret, still follow her, a widowmust be won so. 

_Bel. _ She speaks bravely. 

_Isab. _ I would fain have a Brother in law, I love mens company, and if she call for dinner to avoid you, be sure you stay; follow herinto her chamber, if she retire to Pray, pray with her, and boldly, likehonest lovers. 

_Luce. _ This will kill her. 

_Foun. _ You have shewed us one way, do but lead the tother. 

_Isab. _ I know you stand o'thorns, come I'le dispatch you. 

_Luce. _ If you live after this. 

_Isab. _ I have lost my aim. 

_Enter_ Valentine, _and_ Francisco. 

_Fran. _ Did you not see 'em since. 

_Val. _ No hang 'em, hang 'em. 

_Fran. _ Nor will you not be seen by 'em?

_Val. _ Let 'em alone _Frank_, I'le make 'em their own justice, and a jerker. 

_Fran. _ Such base discourteous Dog-whelps. 

_Val. _ I shall dog 'em, and double dog 'em, ere I have done. 

_Fran. _ Will you go with me, for I would fain find out this pieceof bountie, it was the Widows man, that I am certain of. 

_Val. _ To what end would you go?

_Fran. _ To give thanks. 

_Val. _ Hang giving thanks, hast not thou parts deserve it? itincludes a further will to be beholding, beggars can do no more at door, if you will go, there lies your way. 

_Fran. _ I hope you will go. 

_Val. _ No not in ceremony, and to a woman, with mine own Father, were he living _Frank_; I would toth' Court with Bears first, if itbe that wench, I think it is, for t'other's wiser, I would not be solookt upon, and laught at, so made a ladder for her wit, to climb upon, for 'tis the tartest tit in Christendom, I know her well _Frank_, and have buckled with her, so lickt, and stroaked, flear'd upon, andflouted, and shown to Chambermaids, like a strange beast, she hadpurchased with her penny. 

_Fran. _ You are a strange man, but do you think it was a woman?

_Val. _ There's no doubt on't, who can be there to do it else?besides the manner of the circumstances. 

_Fran. _ Then such courtesies, who ever does 'em sir, saving yourown wisdom, must be more lookt into, and better answered, than withdeserving slights, or what we ought to have conferred upon us, men maystarve else, means are not gotten now with crying out I am a gallantfellow, a good Souldier, a man of learning, or fit to be employed, immediate blessings cease like miracles, and we must grow by secondmeans, I pray go with me, even as you love me Sir. 

_Val. _ I will come to thee, but _Frank_, I will not stay tohear your fopperies, dispatch those e're I come. 

_Fran. _ You will not fail me. 

_Val. _ Some two hours hence expect me. 

_Fran. _ I thank you, and will look for you. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Widow, Shorthose, _and_ Roger. 

_Wid. _ Who let in these puppies? you blind rascals, you drunkenKnaves several. 

_Short. _ Yes forsooth, I'le let 'em in presently, --Gentlemen. 

_Wid. _ Sprecious, you blown Pudding, bawling Rogue. 

_Short. _ I bawl as loud as I can, would you have me fetch 'em uponmy back. 

_Wid. _ Get 'em out rascal, out with 'em, out, I sweat to have 'emnear me. 

_Short. _ I should sweat more to carry 'em out. 

_Roger. _ They are Gentlemen Madam. 

_Short. _ Shall we get 'em into th' butterie, and make'em drunk?

_Wid. _ Do any thing, so I be eased. 

_Enter_ Isabel, Fount, Bella, Hare. 

_Isab. _ Now to her Sir, fear nothing. 

_Rog. _ Slip aside boy, I know she loves 'em, howsoever she carriesit, and has invited 'em, my young Mistress told me so. 

_Short. _ Away to tables then. [_Exeunt. _

_Isab. _ I shall burst with the sport on't. 

_Fount. _ You are too curious Madam, too full of preparation, weexpect it not. 

_Bella. _ Me thinks the house is handsom, every place decent, whatneed you be vext?

_Hare. _ We are no strangers. 

_Fount. _ What though we come e're you expected us, do not we knowyour entertainments Madam are free, and full at all times?

_Wid. _ You are merry, Gentlemen. 

_Bel. _ We come to be merry Madam, and very merry, men love to laughheartily, and now and then Lady a little of our old plea. 

_Wid. _ I am busie, and very busie too, will none deliver me. 

_Hare. _ There is a time for all, you may be busie, but when yourfriends come, you have as much power Madam. 

_Wid. _ This is a tedious torment. 

_Foun. _ How hansomly this little piece of anger shews upon her!well Madam well, you know not how to grace your self. 

_Bel. _ Nay every thing she does breeds a new sweetness. 

_Wid. _ I must go up, I must go up, I have a business waits upon me, some wine for the Gentlemen. 

_Hare. _ Nay, we'l go with you, we never saw your chambers yet. 

_Isab. _ Hold there boyes. 

_Wid. _ Say I go to my prayers?

_Foun. _ We'l pray with you, and help your meditations. 

_Wid. _ This is boysterous, or say I go to sleep, will you go tosleep with me?

_Bel. _ So suddenly before meat will be dangerous, we know yourdinner's ready Lady, you will not sleep. 

_Wid. _ Give me my Coach, I will take the air. 

_Hare. _ We'l wait on you, and then your meat after a quicknedstomach. 

_Wid. _ Let it alone, and call my Steward to me, and bid him bringhis reckonings into the Orchard, these unmannerly rude puppies--[_Exit Widow. _

_Foun. _ We'l walk after you and view the pleasure of the place. 

_Isab. _ Let her not rest, for if you give her breath, she'l scornand flout you, seem how she will, this is the way to win her, be boldand prosper. 

_Bel. _ Nay if we do not tire her. -- [_Exeunt. _

_Isab. _ I'le teach you to worm me, good Lady sister, and peep intomy privacies to suspect me, I'le torture you, with that you hate, mostdaintily, and when I have done that, laugh at that you love most. 

_Enter_ Luce. 

_Luce. _ What have you done, she chafes and fumes outragiously, andstill they persecute her. 

_Isab. _ Long may they do so, I'le teach her to declaim against mypities, why is she not gone out o'th' town, but gives occasion for mento run mad after her?

_Luc. _ I shall be hanged. 

_Isab. _ This in me had been high treason, three at a time, andprivate in her Orchard! I hope she'l cast her reckonings right now. 

_Enter_ Widow. 

_Wid. _ Well, I shall find who brought 'em. 

_Isab. _ Ha, ha, ha. 

_Wid. _ Why do you laugh sister? I fear me 'tis your trick, 'twasneatly done of you, and well becomes your pleasure. 

_Isab. _ What have you done with 'em?

_Wid. _ Lockt 'em i'th' Orchard, there I'le make 'em dance and capertoo, before they get their liberty, unmannerly rude puppies. 

_Isab. _ They are somewhat saucy, but yet I'le let 'em out, and oncemore sound 'em, why were they not beaten out?

_Wid. _ I was about it, but because they came as suiters. 

_Isab. _ Why did you not answer 'em?

_Wid. _ They are so impudent they will receive none: More yet! howcame these in?

_Enter_ Francisco _and_ Lance. 

_Lan. _ At the door, Madam. 

_Isab. _ It is that face. 

_Luce. _ This is the Gentleman. 

_Wid. _ She sent the money to?

_Luce. _ The same. 

_Isab. _ Fie leave you, they have some business. 

_Wid. _ Nay, you shall stay, Sister, they are strangers both to me;how her face alters!

_Isab. _ I am sorry he comes now. 

_Wid. _ I am glad he is here now though. Who would you speak with, Gentlemen?

_Lan. _ You Lady, or your fair Sister there, here's a Gentleman thathas received a benefit. 

_Wid. _ From whom, Sir?

_Lan. _ From one of you, as he supposes, Madam, your man deliveredit. 

_Wid. _ I pray go forward. 

_Lan. _ And of so great a goodness, that he dares not, without thetender of his thanks and service, pass by the house. 

_Wid. _ Which is the Gentleman?

_Lan. _ This, Madam. 

_Wid. _ What's your name, Sir?

_Fran. _ They that know me call me _Francisco_, Lady, one notso proud to scorn so timely a benefit, nor so wretched to hide agratitude. 

_Wid. _ It is well bestowed then. 

_Fran. _ Your fair self, or your Sister as it seems, for what desertI dare not know, unless a handsome subject for your charities, oraptness in your noble will to do it, have showred upon my wants a timelybounty, which makes me rich in thanks, my best inheritance. 

_Wid. _ I am sorry 'twas not mine, this is the Gentlewoman, fie, donot blush, go roundly to the matter, the man is a pretty man. 

_Isab. _ You have three fine ones. 

_Fran. _ Then to you, dear Lady?

_Isab. _ I pray no more, Sir, if I may perswade you, your onlyaptness to do this is recompence, and more than I expected. 

_Fran. _ But good Lady. 

_Isab. _ And for me further to be acquainted with it besides theimputation of vain glory, were greedy thankings of my self, I did it notto be more affected to; I did it, and if it happened where I thought itfitted, I have my end; more to enquire is curious in either of us, morethan that suspicious. 

_Fran. _ But gentle Lady, 'twill be necessary. 

_Isab. _ About the right way nothing, do not fright it, being topious use and tender sighted, with the blown face of Complements, itblasts it; had you not come at all, but thought thanks, it had been toomuch, 'twas not to see your person. 

_Wid. _ A brave dissembling Rogue, and how she carries it!

_Isa. _ Though I believe few handsomer; or hear you, though I affecta good tongue well; or try you, though my years desire a friend, that Irelieved you. 

_Wid. _ A plaguie cunning quean. 

_Isab. _ For so I carried it, my end's too glorious in mine eyes, and bettered the goodness I propounded with opinion. 

_Wid. _ Fear her not, Sir. 

_Isa. _ You cannot catch me, Sister. 

_Fran. _ Will you both teach, and tie my tongue up Lady?

_Isa. _ Let it suffice you have it, it was never mine, whilest goodmen wanted it. 

_Lan. _ This is a Saint sure. 

_Isa. _ And if you be not such a one, restore it. 

_Fran. _ To commend my self, were more officious than you think mythanks are, to doubt I may be worth your gift a treason, both to mineown good and understanding, I know my mind clear, and though modestytells me, he that intreats intrudes; yet I must think something, and ofsome season, met with your better taste, this had not been else. 

_Wid. _ What ward for that, wench?

_Isa. _ Alas, it never touched me. 

_Fran. _ Well, gentle Lady, yours is the first money I ever tookupon a forced ill manners. 

_Isa. _ The last of me, if ever you use other. 

_Fran. _ How may I do, and your way to be thought a grateful taker?

_Isa. _ Spend it, and say nothing, your modesty may deserve more. 

_Wid. _ O Sister will you bar thankfulness?

_Isa. _ Dogs dance for meat, would ye have men do worse? for theycan speak, cry out like Wood-mongers, good deeds by the hundreds, I didit that my best friend should not know it, wine and vain glory does asmuch as I else, if you will force my merit, against my meaning, use itin well bestowing it, in shewing it came to be a benefit, and was so;and not examining a Woman did it, or to what end, in not believingsometimes your self, when drink and stirring conversation may ripenstrange perswasions. 

_Fran. _ Gentle Lady, I were a base receiver of a courtesie, and youa worse disposer, were my nature unfurnished of these fore-sights. Ladies honours were ever in my thoughts, unspotted Crimes, their gooddeeds holy Temples, where the incense burns not; to common eyes yourfears are vertuous, and so I shall preserve 'em. 

_Isa. _ Keep but this way, and from this place to tell me so, youhave paid me; and so I wish you see all fortune. [_Exit. _

_Wid. _ Fear not, the Woman will be thanked, I do not doubt it. Areyou so crafty, carry it so precisely? this is to wake my fears, or toabuse me, I shall look narrowly: despair not Gentlemen, there is an hourto catch a Woman in, if you be wise, so, I must leave you too; Now willI go laugh at my Suitors. [_Exit. _

_Lan. _ Sir, what courage?

_Fran. _ This Woman is a founder, and cites Statutes to all herbenefits. 

_Lan. _ I never knew yet, so few years and so cunning, yet believeme she has an itch, but how to make her confess it, for it is a craftyTit, and plays about you, will not bite home, she would fain, but shedares not; carry your self but so discreetly, Sir, that want orwantonness seem not to search you, and you shall see her open. 

_Fran. _ I do love her, and were I rich, would give two thousandpound to wed her wit but one hour, oh 'tis a Dragon, and such a spritelyway of pleasure, ha _Lance_. 

_Lan. _ Your ha _Lance_ broken once, you would cry, ho, ho, _Lance_. 

_Fran. _ Some leaden landed Rogue will have this wench now, whenall's done, some such youth will carry her, and wear her, greasie outlike stuff, some Dunce that knows no more but Markets, and admiresnothing but a long charge at Sizes: O the fortunes!

_Enter_ Isabel _and_ Luce. 

_Lan. _ Comfort your self. 

_Luce. _ They are here yet, and alone too, boldly upon't; nay, Mistress, I still told you, how 'twould find your trust, this 'tis toventure your charity upon a boy. 

_Lan. _ Now, what's the matter? stand fast, and like your self. 

_Isa. _ Prethee no more Wench. 

_Luce. _ What was his want to you?

_Isa. _ 'Tis true. 

_Luce. _ Or misery, or say he had been i'th' Cage, was there nomercy to look abroad but yours?

_Isa. _ I am paid for fooling. 

_Lu. _ Must every slight companion that can purchase a shew ofpoverty and beggerly planet fall under your compassion?

_Lane. _ Here's a new matter. 

_Luce. _ Nay, you are served but too well, here he staies yet, yetas I live. 

_Fran. _ How her face alters on me!

_Luce. _ Out of a confidence I hope. 

_Isab. _ I am glad on't. 

_Fran. _ How do you gentle Lady?

_Isab. _ Much ashamed Sir, (but first stand further off me, y'areinfectious) to find such vanitie, nay almost impudence, where I believ'da worth: is this your thanks, the gratitude you were so mad to make me, your trim counsel Gentlemen?

_Lane. _ What, Lady?

_Isab. _ Take your device again, it will not serve Sir, the womanwill not bite, you are finely cozened, drop it no more for shame. 

_Luce. _ Do you think you are here Sir amongst your wast-coateers, your base wenches that scratch at such occasions? you are deluded: Thisis a Gentlewoman of a noble house, born to a better fame than you canbuild her, and eyes above your pitch. 

_Fran. _ I do acknowledge--

_Isab. _ Then I beseech you Sir, what could 'see, (speak boldly, andspeak truly, shame the Devil, ) in my behaviour of such easiness that youdurst venture to do this?

_Fran. _ You amaze me, this Ring is none of mine, nor did I drop it. 

_Luce. _ I saw you drop it, Sir. 

_Isab. _ I took it up too, still looking when your modesty shouldmiss it, why, what a childish part was this?

_Fran. _ I vow. 

_Isab. _ Vow me no vowes, he that dares do this, has bred himself toboldness, to forswear too; there take your gew-gaw, you are too muchpampered, and I repent my part, as you grow older grow wiser if you can, and so farewel Sir. 

[_Exeunt_ Isabella, _and_ Luce. 

_Lan. _ Grow wiser if you can? she has put it to you, 'tis a richRing, did you drop it?

_Fran. _ Never, ne're saw it afore, _Lance_. 

_Lan. _ Thereby hangs a tail then: what slight she makes to catchher self! look up Sir, you cannot lose her if you would, how daintilyshe flies upon the Lure, and cunningly she makes her stops! whistle andshe'l come to you. 

_Fran. _ I would I were so happy. 

_Lan. _ Maids are Clocks, the greatest Wheel they show, goes slowestto us, and make's hang on tedious hopes; the lesser, which areconcealed, being often oyl'd with wishes, flee like desires, and neverleave that motion, till the tongue strikes; she is flesh, blood andmarrow, young as her purpose, and soft as pity; no Monument to worship, but a mould to make men in, a neat one, and I know how e're she appearsnow, which is near enough, you are stark blind if you hit not soon atnight; she would venture forty pounds more but to feel a Flea in yourshape bite her: drop no more Rings forsooth, this was the prettiestthing to know her heart by. 

_Fran. _ Thou putst me in much comfort. 

_Lan. _ Put your self in good comfort, if she do not point you outthe way, drop no more Rings, she'l drop her self into you. 

_Fran. _ I wonder my Brother comes not. 

_Lan. _ Let him alone, and feed your self on your own fortunes; comebe frolick, and let's be monstrous wise and full of counsel, drop nomore Rings. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Widow, Fountain, Bellamore, Harebrain. 

_Wid. _ If you will needs be foolish you must be used so: who sentfor you? who entertained you Gentlemen? who bid you welcom hither? youcame crowding, and impudently bold; press on my patience, as if I kept ahouse for all Companions, and of all sorts: will 'have your wills, willvex me and force my liking from you I ne're ow'd you?

_Fount. _ For all this we will dine with you. 

_Bel. _ And for all this will have a better answer from you. 

_Wid. _ You shall never, neither have an answer nor dinner, unlessyou use me with a more staid respect, and stay your time too. 

_Enter_ Isabella, Shorthose, Roger, Humphrey, Ralph, _with dishesof meat_. 

_Isab. _ Forward with the meat now. 

_Rog. _ Come Gentlemen, march fairly. 

_Short. _ _Roger_, you are a weak Serving-man, your whitebroath runs from you; fie, how I sweat under this Pile of Beef; anElephant can do more! Oh for such a back now, and in these times, whatmight a man arrive at! Goose, grase you up, and Woodcock march behindethee, I am almost foundred. 

_Wid. _ Who bid you bring the meat yet? away you knaves, I will notdine these two hours: how am I vext and chafed! go carry it back andtell the Cook, he's an arrant Rascal, to send before I called. 

_Short. _ Face about Gentlemen, beat a mournfull march then, andgive some supporters, or else I perish-- [_Exeunt_ Servants. 

_Isab. _ It does me much good to see her chafe thus. 

_Hare. _ We can stay Madam, and will stay and dwell here, 'tis goodAir. 

_Fount. _ I know you have beds enough, and meat you never want. 

_Wid. _ You want a little. 

_Bel. _ We dare to pretend no. Since you are churlish, we'l give youPhysick, you must purge this anger, it burns you and decays you. 

_Wid. _ If I had you out once, I would be at the charge of aportcullis for you. 

_Enter_ Valentine. 

_Val. _ Good morrow noble Lady. 

_Wid. _ Good morrow Sir. How sweetly now he looks, and how fullmanly! what slaves were these to use him so!

_Val. _ I come to look a young man I call Brother. 

_Wid. _ Such a one was here Sir, as I remember your own Brother, butgone almost an hour agoe. 

_Val. _ Good ee'n then. 

_Wid. _ You must not so soon Sir, here be some Gentlemen, it may beyou are acquainted with 'em. 

_Hare. _ Will nothing make him miserable?

_Fount. _ How glorious!

_Bel. _ It is the very he, does it rain fortunes, or has he afamiliar?

_Hare. _ How doggedly he looks too?

_Fount. _ I am beyond my faith, pray let's be going. 

_Val. _ Where are these Gentlemen?

_Wid. _ Here. 

_Val. _ Yes I know 'em, and will be more familiar. 

_Bel. _ Morrow Madam. 

_Wid. _ Nay stay and dine. 

_Val. _ You shall stay till I talk with you, and not dine neither, but fastingly my fury, you think you have undone me, think so still, andswallow that belief, till you be company for Court-hand Clarks, andstarved Atturnies, till you break in at playes like Prentices for threea groat, and crack Nuts with the Scholars in peny Rooms again, and fightfor Apples, till you return to what I found you, people betrai'd intothe hands of Fencers, Challengers, Tooth-drawers Bills, and tediousProclamations in Meal-markets, with throngings to see Cutpurses: stirnot, but hear, and mark, I'le cut your throats else, till Water works, and rumours of New Rivers rid you again and run you into questions whobuilt Thames, till you run mad for Lotteries, and stand there with yourTables to glean the golden Sentences, and cite 'em secre[t]ly toServingmen for sound Essayes, till Taverns allow you but a Towel room toTipple Wine in, that the Bell hath gone for twice, and Glasses that looklike broken promises, tied up with wicker protestations, English Tobaccowith half Pipes, nor in half a year once burnt, and Bisket that Bawdshave rubb'd their gums upon like Corals to bring the mark again, tellthese hour Rascals so, this most fatal hour will come again, think I sitdown the looser. 

_Wid. _ Will you stay Gentlemen, a piece of Beef and a cold Capon, that's all, you know you are welcom. 

_Hum. _ That was cast to abuse us. 

_Bel. _ Steal off, the Devil is in his anger. 

_Wid. _ Nay I am sure you will not leave me so discourteously, now Ihave provided for you. 

_Val. _ What do you here? why do ye vex a woman of her goodness, herstate and worth? can you bring a fair certificate that you deserve to beher footmen? husbands, you puppies? husbands for Whores and Bawds, awayyou wind suckers; do not look big, nor prate, nor stay, nor grumble andwhen you are gone, seem to laugh at my fury, and slight this Lady, Ishall hear, and know this: and though I am not bound to fight for women, as far they are good I dare preserve 'em: be not too bold, for if yoube, I'le swinge you monstrously without all pity, your honours now goe, avoid me mainly. [_Exeunt. _

_Wid. _ Well Sir, you have delivered me, I thank you, and with yournobleness prevented danger, their tongues might utter, we'll all go andeat Sir. 

_Vol. _ No, no, I dare not trust my self with women, go to yourmeat, eat little, take less ease, and tie your body to a daily labour, you may live honestly, and so I thank you. [_Exit. _

_Wid. _ Well go thy ways, thou art a noble fellow, and some means Imust work to have thee know it. [_Exit. _

_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima. _

_Enter_ Uncle, _and_ Merchant. 

_Unc. _ Most certain 'tis her hands that hold him up, and her sisterrelieves _Frank_. 

_Mer. _ I am glad to hear it: but wherefore do they not pursue thisfortune to some fair end?

_Unc. _ The women are too craftie, _Valentine_ too coy, and_Frank_ too bashfull, had any wise man hold of such a blessing, they would strike it out o'th' flint but they would form it. 

_Enter_ Widow, _and_ Shorthose. 

_Mer. _ The Widow sure, why does she stir so early?

_Wid. _ 'Tis strange, I cannot force him to understand me, and makea benefit of what I would bring him: tell my sister I'le use mydevotions at home this morning, she may if she please go to Church. 

_Short. _ Hey ho. 

_Wid. _ And do you wait upon her with a torch Sir. 

_Short. _ Hey ho. 

_Wid. _ You lazie Knave. 

_Short. _ Here is such a tinkle tanklings that we can ne're liequiet, and sleep our prayers out. _Ralph_, pray emptie my rightshooe that you made your Chamber-pot, and burn a little Rosemarie in't, I must wait upon my Lady. This morning Prayer has brought me into aconsumption, I have nothing left but flesh and bones about me. 

_Wid. _ You drousie slave, nothing but sleep and swilling!

_Short. _ Had you been bitten with Bandog fleas, as I have been, andhaunted with the night Mare. 

_Wid. _ With an Ale-pot. 

_Short. _ You would have little list to morning Prayers, pray takemy fellow _Ralph_, he has a Psalm Book, I am an ingrum man. 

_Wid. _ Get you ready quickly, and when she is ready wait upon herhandsomely; no more, be gone. 

_Short. _ If I do snore my part out-- [_Exit_ Short. 

_Unc. _ Now to our purposes. 

_Mer. _ Good morrow, Madam. 

_Wid. _ Good morrow, Gentlemen. 

_Unc. _ Good joy and fortune. 

_Wid. _ These are good things, and worth my thanks, I thank you Sir. 

_Mer. _ Much joy I hope you'l find, we came to gratulate your newknit marriage-band. 

_Wid. _ How?

_Unc. _ He's a Gentleman, although he be my kinsman, my fair Niece. 

_Wid. _ Niece, Sir?

_Unc. _ Yes Lady, now I may say so, 'tis no shame to you, I say aGentleman, and winking at some light fancies, which you most happily mayaffect him for, as bravely carried, as nobly bred and managed. 

_Wid. _ What's all this? I understand you not, what Niece, whatmarriage-knot?

_Unc. _ I'le tell plainly, you are my Niece, and _Valentine_the Gentleman has made you so by marriage. 

_Wid. _ Marriage?

_Unc. _ Yes Lady, and 'twas a noble and vertuous part, to take afalling man to your protection, and buoy him up again to all hisglories. 

_Wid. _ The men are mad. 

_Mer. _ What though he wanted these outward things, that flie awaylike shadows, was not his mind a full one, and a brave one? You havewealth enough to give him gloss and outside, and he wit enough to giveway to love a Lady. 

_Unc. _ I ever thought he would do well. 

_Mer. _ Nay, I knew how ever he wheel'd about like a loose Cabine, he would charge home at length, like a brave Gentleman; Heavens blessingo' your heart Lady, we are so bound to honour you, in all your serviceso devoted to you. 

_Unc. _ Do not look so strange Widow, it must be known, better ageneral joy; no stirring here yet, come, come, you cannot hide 'em. 

_Wid. _ Pray be not impudent, these are the finest toyes, belike Iam married then?

_Mer. _ You are in a miserable estate in the worlds account else, Iwould not for your wealth it come to doubting. 

_Wid. _ And I am great with child?

_Unc. _ No, great they say not, but 'tis a full opinion you are withchild, and great joy among the Gentlemen, your husband hath bestirredhimself fairly. 

_Mer. _ Alas, we know his private hours of entrance, how long, andwhen he stayed, could name the bed too, where he paid down hisfirst-fruits. 

_Wid. _ I shall believe anon. 

_Unc. _ And we consider for some private reasons, you would have itprivate, yet take your own pleasure; and so good morrow, my best Niece, my sweetest. 

_Wid. _ No, no, pray stay. 

_Unc. _ I know you would be with him, love him, and love him well. 

_Mer. _ You'l find him noble, this may beget--

_Unc. _ It must needs work upon her. 

[_Exit_ Uncle, _and_ Mer. 

_Wid. _ These are fine bobs i'faith, married, and with child too!how long has this been, I trow? they seem grave fellows, they should notcome to flout; married, and bedded, the world takes notice too! wherelies this May-game? I could be vext extreamly now, and rail too, but'tis to no end, though I itch a little, must I be scratcht I know nothow, who waits there?

_Enter_ Humphrey, _a_ Servant. 

_Hum. _ Madam. 

_Wid. _ Make ready my Coach quickly, and wait you only, and hark youSir, be secret and speedy, inquire out where he lies. 

_Hum. _ I shall do it, Madam. 

_Wid. _ Married, and got with child in a dream! 'tis fine i'faith, sure he that did this, would do better waking. [_Exit. _

_Enter_ Valentine, Fran. Lance, _and a Boy with a Torch_. 

_Val. _ Hold thy Torch handsomely: how dost thou _Frank_?_Peter Bassel_, bear up. 

_Fran. _ You have fried me soundly, Sack do you call this drink?

_Val. _ A shrewd dog, _Frank_, will bite abundantly. 

_Lan. _ Now could I fight, and fight with thee. 

_Val. _ With me, thou man of _Memphis_?

_Lan. _ But that thou art mine own natural master, yet my sack saysthou art no man, thou art a Pagan, and pawnest thy land, which a noblecause. 

_Val. _ No arms, nor arms, good _Lancelot_, dear _Lance_, no fighting here, we will have Lands boy, Livings, and Titles, thoushalt be a Vice-Roy, hang fighting, hang't 'tis out of fashion. 

_Lan. _ I would fain labour you into your lands again, go to, it isbehoveful. 

_Fran. _ Fie _Lance_, fie. 

_Lan. _ I must beat some body, and why not my Master, before astranger? charity and beating begins at home. 

_Val. _ Come, thou shalt beat me. 

_Lan. _ I will not be compel'd, and you were two Masters, I scornthe motion. 

_Val. _ Wilt thou sleep?

_Lan. _ I scorn sleep. 

_Val. _ Wilt thou go eat?

_Lan. _ I scorn meat, I come for rompering, I come to wait upon mycharge discreetly; for look you, if you will not take your Mortgageagain, here do I lie S' George, and so forth. 

_Val. _ And here do I S' George, bestride the Dragon, thus with myLance. 

_Lan. _ I sting, I sting with my tail. 

_Val. _ Do you so, do you so, Sir? I shall tail you presently. 

_Fran. _ By no means, do not hurt him. 

_Val. _ Take this _Nelson_, and now rise, thou Maiden Knight ofMalllgo, lace on thy Helmet of inchanted Sack, and charge again. 

_Lan. _ I'le play no more, you abuse me, will you go?

_Fran. _ I'le bid you good morrow, Brother, for sleep I cannot, Ihave a thousand fancies. 

_Val. _ Now thou art arrived, go bravely to the matter, and dosomething of worth, _Frank_. 

_Lan. _ You shall hear from us. [_Exeunt_ Lance _and_Frank. 

_Val. _ This Rogue, if he had been sober, sure had beaten me, is themost tettish Knave. 

_Enter_ Uncle _and_ Merchant, _Boy with a Torch_. 

_Unc. _ 'Tis he. 

_Mer. _ Good morrow. 

_Val. _ Why, Sir, good morrow to you too, and you be so lusty. 

_Unc. _ You have made your Brother a fine man, we met him. 

_Val. _ I made him a fine Gentleman, he was a fool before, brought upamongst the midst of Small-Beer-Brew-houses, what would you have with me?

_Mer. _ I come to tell you, your latest hour is come. 

_Val. _ Are you my sentence?

_Mer. _ The sentence of your state. 

_Val. _ Let it be hang'd then, and let it be hang'd high enough, Imay not see it. 

_Unc. _ A gracious resolution. 

_Val. _ What would you have else with me, will you go drink, and letthe world slide, Uncle? Ha, ha, ha, boyes, drink Sack like Whey, boyes. 

_Mer. _ Have you no feeling, Sir?

_Val. _ Come hither Merchant: make me a supper, thou most reverentLand-catcher, a supper of forty pounds. 

_Mer. _ What then, Sir?

_Val. _ Then bring thy Wife along, and thy fair Sisters, thyNeighbours and their Wives, and all their trinkets, let me have fortyTrumpets, and such Wine, we'll laugh at all the miseries of Mortgage, and then in state I'le render thee an answer. 

_Mer. _ What say you to this?

_Unc. _ I dare not say, nor think neither. 

_Mer. _ Will you redeem your state, speak to the point, Sir?

_Pal. _ Not, not if it were mine heir in the _Turks_ Gallies. 

_Mer. _ Then I must take an order?

_Val. _ Take a thousand, I will not keep it, nor thou shalt not haveit, because thou camest i'th' nick, thou shalt not have it, go takepossession, and be sure you hold it, hold fast with both hands, forthere be those hounds uncoupled, will ring you such a knell, go down inglory, and march upon my land, and cry, All's mine; cry as the Devildid, and be the Devil, mark what an Echo follows, build fineMarch-panes, to entertain Sir Silk-worm and his Lady, and pull theChappel down, and raise a Chamber for Mistress Silver-pin, to lay herbelly in, mark what an Earthquake comes. Then foolish Merchant myTenants are no Subjects, they obey nothing, and they are people toonever Christened, they know no Law nor Conscience, they'll devour thee;and thou mortal, the stopple, they'll confound thee within three days;no bit nor memory of what thou wert, no not the Wart upon thy Nosethere, shall be e're heard of more; go take possession, and bring thyChildren down, to rost like Rabbets, they love young Toasts and Butter, _Bow-bell_ Suckers; as they love mischief, and hate Law, they areCannibals; bring down thy kindred too, that be not fruitful, there bethose Mandrakes that will mollifie 'em, go take possession. I'le go tomy Chamber, afore Boy go. [_Exeunt. _

_Mer. _ He's mad sure. 

_Unc. _ He's half drunk sure: and yet I like this unwillingness tolose it, this looking back. 

_Mer. _ Yes, if he did it handsomely, but he's so harsh and strange. 

_Unc. _ Believe it 'tis his drink, Sir, and I am glad his drink hasthrust it out. 

_Mer. _ Cannibals? if ever I come to view his Regiment, if fairterms may be had. 

_Unc. _ He tells you true, Sir, they are a bunch of the mostboisterous Rascals disorder ever made, let 'em be mad once, the power ofthe whole Country cannot cool 'em, be patient but a while. 

_Mer. _ As long as you will, Sir, before I buy a bargain of suchRunts, I'le buy a Colledge for Bears, and live among 'em. 

_Enter_ Francisco, Lance, _Boy with a Torch_. 

_Fran. _ How dost thou now?

_Lan. _ Better than I was, and straighter, but my head's a Hogsheadstill, it rowls and tumbles. 

_Fran. _ Thou wert cruelly paid. 

_Lan. _ I may live to requite it, put a Snaffle of Sack in my mouthand then ride me very well. 

_Fran. _ 'Twas all but sport, I'le tell thee what I mean now, I meanto see this Wench. 

_Lan. _ Where a Devil is she? and there were two, 'twere better. 

_Fran. _ Dost thou hear the Bell ring?

_Lan. _ Yes, yes. 

_Fran. _ Then she comes to prayers, early each morning thither: Nowif I could but meet her, for I am of another mettle now. 

_Enter_ Isabel, _and_ Shorthose _with a Torch_. 

_Lan. _ What light's yon?

_Fran. _ Ha, 'tis a light, take her by the hand and court her. 

_Lan. _ Take her below the girdle, you'l never speed else, it comeson this way still, oh that I had but such an opportunity in a Saw-pit, how it comes on, comes on! 'tis here. 

_Fran. _ 'Tis she: fortune I kiss thy hand--Good morrow Lady. 

_Isa. _ What voice is that, Sirra, do you sleep as you go, 'tis he, I am glad on't. Why, _Shorthose_?

_Short. _ Yes forsooth, I was dreamt, I was going to Church. 

_Lan. _ She sees you as plain as I do. 

_Isab. _ Hold the torch up. 

_Short. _ Here's nothing but a stall, and a Butcher's Dog asleepin't, where did you see the voice?

_Fran. _ She looks still angry. 

_Lan. _ To her and meet Sir. 

_Isab. _ Here, here. 

_Fran. _ Yes Lady, never bless your self, I am but a man, and likean honest man, now I will thank you--

_Isab. _ What do you mean, who sent for you, who desired you?

_Short. _ Shall I put out the Torch forsooth?

_Isab. _ Can I not go about my private meditations, Ha, but suchcompanions as you must ruffle me? you had best go with me Sir?

_Fran. _ 'Twas my purpose. 

_Isab. _ Why, what an impudence is this! you had best, being so nearthe Church, provide a Priest, and perswade me to marry you. 

_Fran. _ It was my meaning, and such a husband, so loving, and socarefull, my youth, and all my fortunes shall arrive at--Hark you?

_Isab. _ 'Tis strange you should be thus unmannerly, turn home againsirra, you had best now force my man to lead your way. 

_Lan. _ Yes marry shall he Lady, forward my friend. 

_Isab. _ This is a pretty Riot, it may grow to a rape. 

_Fran. _ Do you like that better? I can ravish you an hundred times, and never hurt you. 

_Short. _ I see nothing, I am asleep still, when you have done tellme, and then I'le wake Mistris. 

_Isab. _ Are you in earnest Sir, do you long to be hang'd?

_Fran. _ Yes by my troth Lady in these fair Tresses. 

_Isab. _ Shall I call out for help?

_Fran. _ No by no means, that were a weak trick Lady, I'le kiss, andstop your mouth. 

_Isab. _ You'l answer all these?

_Fran. _ A thousand kisses more. 

_Isab. _ I was never abused thus, you had best give out too, thatyou found me willing, and say I doted on you?

_Fran. _ That's known already, and no man living shall now carry youfrom me. 

_Isab. _ This is fine i'faith. 

_Fran. _ It shall be ten times finer. 

_Isab. _ Well, seeing you are so valiant, keep your way, I will toChurch. 

_Fran. _ And I will wait upon you. 

_Isab. _ And it is most likely there's a Priest, if you dare ventureas you profess, I would wish you look about you, to do these rudetricks, for you know the recompences, and trust not to my mercy. 

_Fran. _ But I will Lady. 

_Isab. _ For I'le so handle you. 

_Fran. _ That's it I look for. 

_Lan. _ Afore thou dream. 

_Shor. _ Have you done?

_Isab. _ Go on Sir, and follow if you dare. 

_Fran. _ If I do not, hang me. 

_Lan. _ 'Tis all thine own boy, an 'twere a million, god a mercySack, when would small Beer have done this?

_Knocking within. Enter_ Valentine. 

_Val. _ Whose that that knocks and bounces, what a Devil ails you, is hell broke loose, or do you keep an Iron mill?

_Enter a_ Servant. 

_Ser. _ 'Tis a Gentlewoman Sir that must needs speak with you. 

_Val. _ A Gentlewoman? what Gentlewoman, what have I to do withGentlewomen?

_Ser. _ She will not be answered Sir. 

_Val. _ Fling up the bed and let her in, I'le try how gentle she is-- [_Exit_ Servant. 

This Sack has fill'd my head so full of babies, I am almost mad; whatGentlewoman should this be? I hope she has brought me no butter printalong with her to lay to my charge, if she have 'tis all one, I'leforswear it. 

_Enter_ Widow. 

_Wid. _ O you're a noble Gallant, send off your Servant pray. [_Exit_ Servant. 

_Val. _ She will not ravish me? by this light she looks as sharp setas a Sparrow hawk, what wouldst thou woman?

_Wid. _ O you have used me kindly, and like a Gentleman, this is totrust to you. 

_Val. _ Trust to me, for what?

_Wid. _ Because I said in jest once, you were a handsom man, one Icould like well, and fooling, made you believe I loved you, and might bebrought to marrie. 

_Val. _ The widow is drunk too. 

_Wid. _ You out of this, which is a fine discretion, give out thematter's done, you have won and wed me, and that you have put, fairlyput for an heir too, these are fine rumours to advance my credit: i'th'name of mischief what did you mean?

_Val. _ That you loved me, and that you might be brought to marrieme? why, what a Devil do you mean, widow?

_Wid. _ 'Twas a fine trick too, to tell the world though you hadenjoyed your first wish you wished, the wealth you aimed at, that I waspoor, which is most true, I am, have sold my lands, because I love notthose vexations, yet for mine honours sake, if you must be prating, andfor my credits sake in the Town. 

_Val. _ I tell thee widow, I like thee ten times better, now thouhast no Lands, for now thy hopes and cares lye on thy husband, if e'rethou marryest more. 

_Wid. _ Have not you married me, and for this main cause, now as youreport it, to be your Nurse?

_Val. _ My Nurse? why, what am I grown to, give me the Glass, myNurse. 

_Wid. _ You n'er said truer, I must confess I did a little favouryou, and with some labour might have been perswaded, but when I found Imust be hourly troubled, with making broths, and dawbing your decayeswith swadling, and with stitching up your ruines, for the world soreports. 

_Val. _ Do not provoke me. 

_Wid. _ And half an eye may see. 

_Val. _ Do not provoke me, the world's a lying world, and thou shaltfind it, have a good heart, and take a strong faith to thee, and markwhat follows, my Nurse, yes, you shall rock me: Widow I'le keep youwaking. 

_Wid. _ You are disposed Sir. 

_Val. _ Yes marry am I Widow, and you shall feel it, nay and theytouch my freehold, I am a Tiger. 

_Wid. _ I think so. 

_Val. _ Come. 

_Wid. _ Whither?

_Val. _ Any whither. [_Sings. _

 The fit's upon me now, the fit's upon me now, Come quickly gentle Ladie, the fit's upon me now, The world shall know they're fools, And so shalt thou do too, Let the Cobler meddle with his tools, The fit's upon me now. 

Take me quickly, while I am in this vein, away with me, for if I havebut two hours to consider, all the widows in the world cannot recoverme. 

_Wid. _ If you will, go with me Sir. 

_Val. _ Yes marrie will I, but 'tis in anger yet, and I will marriethee, do not cross me; yes, and I will lie with thee, and get a wholebundle of babies, and I will kiss thee, stand still and kiss mehandsomely, but do not provoke me, stir neither hand nor foot, for I amdangerous, I drunk sack yesternight, do not allure me: Thou art no widowof this world, come in pitie, and in spite I'le marrie thee, not a wordmore, and I may be brought to love thee. [_Exeunt. _

_Enter_ Merchant, _and_ Uncle, _at several doors_. 

_Mer. _ Well met again, and what good news yet?

_Unc. _ Faith nothing. 

_Mer. _ No fruits of what we sowed?

_Unc. _ Nothing I hear of. 

_Mer. _ No turning in this tide yet?

_Unc. _ 'Tis all flood, and till that fall away, there's no expecting. 

_Enter_ Fran. Isab. Lance, Shorthose, _a torch_. 

_Mer. _ Is not this his younger Brother?

_Unc. _ With a Gentlewoman the widow's sister, as I live he smiles, he has got good hold, why well said _Frank_ i'faith, let's stay andmark. 

_Isab. _ Well, you are the prettiest youth, and so you have handledme, think you ha' me sure. 

_Fran. _ As sure as wedlock. 

_Isab. _ You had best lie with me too. 

_Fran. _ Yes indeed will I, and get such black ey'd boyes. 

_Unc. _ God a Mercy, _Frank_. 

_Isab. _ This is a merrie world, poor simple Gentlewomen that thinkno harm, cannot walk about their business, but they must be catcht up Iknow not how. 

_Fran. _ I'le tell you, and I'le instruct ye too, have I caught you, Mistress?

_Isab. _ Well, and it were not for pure pity, I would give you theslip yet, but being as it is. 

_Fran. _ It shall be better. 

_Enter_ Valentine, Widow, _and_ Ralph, _with a torch_. 

_Isab. _ My sister, as I live, your Brother with her! sure, I thinkyou are the Kings takers. 

_Unc. _ Now it works. 

_Val. _ Nay, you shall know I am a man. 

_Wid. _ I think so. 

_Val. _ And such proof you shall have. 

_Wid. _ I pray speak softly. 

_Val. _ I'le speak it out Widow, yes and you shall confess too, I amno Nurse-child, I went for a man, a good one, if you can beat me outo'th' pit. 

_Wid. _ I did but jest with you. 

_Val. _ I'le handle you in earnest, and so handle you: Nay, when mycredit calls. 

_Wid. _ Are you mad?

_Val. _ I am mad, I am mad. 

_Fran. _ Good morrow, Sir, I like your preparation. 

_Val. _ Thou hast been at it, _Frank_. 

_Fran. _ Yes faith, 'tis done Sir. 

_Val. _ Along with me then, never hang an arse, widow. 

_Isab. _ 'Tis to no purpose, sister. 

_Val. _ Well said Black-brows, advance your torches Gentlemen. 

_Unc. _ Yes, yes Sir. 

_Val. _ And keep your ranks. 

_Mer. _ _Lance_, carrie this before him. 

_Unc. _ Carrie it in state. 

_Enter_ Musicians, Fount. Hare. Bel. 

_Val. _ What are you, Musicians? I know your coming, and what arethose behind you?

_Musi. _ Gentlemen that sent us to give the Lady a good morrow. 

_Val. _ O I know them, come boy sing the song I taught you, And sing it lustily, come forward Gentlemen, you're welcom, Welcom, now we are all friends, go get the Priest ready, And let him not be long, we have much business:Come _Frank_, rejoyce with me, thou hast got the start boy, But I'le so tumble after, come my friends lead, Lead cheerfully, and let your Fiddles ring boyes, My follies and my fancies have an end here, Display the morgage _Lance_, Merchant I'le pay you, And every thing shall be in joynt again. 

_Unc. _ Afore, afore. 

_Val. _ And now confess, and know, _Wit without Money, sometimesgives the blow_. [_Exeunt. _

APPENDIX

WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 

(A) Wit with-|out Money. | A Comedie, | As it hath beenePresented with good | Applause at the private house in Drurie Lane, | byher Majesties Servants. | Written by Francis Beamount, and John Flecher. Gent. | London | Printed by Thomas Cotes, for Andrew Crooke, | andWilliam Cooke. 1639. 

(B) Wit | without | Money. | A | Comedie, | As it hath beenPresented with good Ap-|plause at the private house in Drury Lane, by |Her Hajesties (sic) Servants | Written by Francis Beamount and JohnFlecher. Gent. | The second Impression Corrected. | London, | Printedfor Andrew Crooke, at the Green Dragon in | St. Pauls-Church-Yard, 1661. 

On the last leaf appears a list of 17 'Plays written by Francis Beamountand John Flecher, | printed in Quarto. '

(C)= The Second Folio. 

p. 146, l. 6. A and B] The Actors names. 

p. 147, l. 7. A and B] No Gent. L. 10. A and B] maintaine Hospitals. L. 24. A and B] flatter um, make um. (The same form occurs almostthroughout A and B and is not here repeated. )

p. 148, l. 4. C _misprints_] Mar. L. 6. A and B] A that. L. 10. A _adds_] vexations, the morgage shall be rendred backe, take time fort, you. L. 13. A] and a fine. 

p. 149, l. 9. C _misprints_] de. L. 21. A _omits_] can mount like Stallions. L. 29. A _omits_] all. L. 32. A _omits_] Sir. 

p. 150, l. 2. A and B _omit_] of. L. 10. A] and hang. L. 24. A and B] meagrom. L. 24. A] tenements. L. 37. A and B] a Sundaies. 

p. 151, l. 10. A] next remove, and when I please to remove; and when. L. 18. A] are hid, that work. L. 20. A and B] I shifted; are. L. 27. A] my travel. L. 29. A] some other that. L. 35. B and C _misprint_] doule. 

p. 152, l. 14. A and B] Andeluria. L. 24. B _omits_] find. L. 27. A] safe from. 

p. 153, l. 17. A] may do. L. 24. A] satten. L. 32. A] and a. 

p. 154, l. 1. A] meane part. L. 5. A] with the loss. L. 35. A _omits_] the. 

p. 155, l. 3. A] married there together. Ll. 10 and 11. B] puft solus. Ll. 15 and 16. A] but will that fledge him, keep him from cold, beleeve me. L. 17. A] him, and marke. L. 31. C _misprints_] Quartus. 

p. 156, l. 18. A _omits_] that. L. 34. A] lookt thee. L. 37. A] She has. Ll. 38 and 39. A] her, not say. 

p. 157, l. 23. A] or no, are those. L. 37. A] empty nothing. 

p. 158, l. 9. A] in's. L. 11. A] supple hand. 

p. 159, l. 2. A] a maid content. L. 5. A] makes the wife. L. 28. B _omits_] _Hare_. C _misprints_] searce. 

p. 160, l. 28. A and B] that Gentleman. 

p. 161, l. 12. B] Legend. L. 14. A] say so. A] hangd first. L. 27. C _misprints_] thy. L. 34. A _adds_] Exeunt. 

p. 162, l. 4. A] himself sport. L. 5. A] by his Copie. L. 9. A] Gentleman your. 

p. 163, l. 3. A and B] towne, and live. A and B _omit_] and. 

p. 164, l. 8. A] twelve moneths. L. 17. A] spent it. L. 30. A] do not you. 

p. 165, l. 30. A] servant, I am cosend if after her, I. 

p. 166, l. 22. A and B] Roger help down. 

p. 167, l. 25. A] Why whither. 

p. 168, l. 27. A] sometimes. 

p. 169, l. 11. A] my sister. L. 19. A] bring you but this. L. 22. A and B] that know not. L. 29. A] small pots. L. 32. A] Its. L. 35. A] sit and laugh. 

p. 170, l. 27. A and B] here, has made. 

p. 171, l. 6. C _misprints_] know. L. 14. A and B] I grieve to. L. 25. A] deserve it, is a. L. 28. A _omits_] as. 

p. 172, l. 14. A] their Cases. L. 32. A and B] Prospectives. L. 33. C _misprints_] Wid. L. 36. A and B] Ah my. L. 40. A] mens confusions. 

p. 173, l. 32. A and B] a god else. L. 36. B] was you never. 

p. 174, l. 8. A] Lets have. L. 31. C _misprints_] your. 

p. 175, l. 17. A and B] sick ath. L. 32. A _adds_] Exeunt. 

p. 176, l. 6. A and B] has. L. 16. A] charge whom. L. 35. A and B] Has the. L. 38. A and B] behaviours. 

p. 177, l. 10. A] filed. L. 13. A] small bare. 

p. 178, l. 2. A and B] worships. L. 3. A] at a sizer. Ll. 7 and 8. A] and Christian bleeches. L. 12. A] displease me more. L. 37. A and B _omit_] Enter. 

p. 179, l. 9. B] Tarm. L. 12. C _misprints_] and. 

p. 180, l. 1. A] pound. L. 30. A] most cure. L. 31. A and B] Has had. 

p. 181, l. 7. A] clocke. L. 11. C] som spun. 

p. 182, l. 33. C] nor. L. 39. A] he has none. 

p. 183, ll. 27 and 28. B and C] frat . .. Sab. 

p. 184, l. 5. A] but lend. L. 6. A and B] a thornes. L. 22. A] thanks Sir. L. 23. B] part. A and B] deserves. L. 24. A and B] to a. L. 25. A] doores. 

p. 185, l. 15. A] let me in. L. 18. A] Spercious. A] you bawling. L. 30. B] aside bay. L. 37. A] be so vext. 

p. 186, ll. 5 and 6. A] men live. L. 12. A] title peece. 

p. 187, l. 23. A] more hound um. 

p. 188, l. 20. A] wils. 

p. 189, l. 7. A and B] and bartered. L. 31. A] would you. 

p. 190, l. 35. A and B] and a love too. L. 36. A] how'would. 

p. 191, l. 18. A and B] I beleeve. 

p. 193, l. 18. A and B] Faces about. L. 19. B] I or else perish. L. 27. A] pretend on. L. 30. A and B] at charge. L. 35. A and B] was these. 

p. 194, l. 1. A] God e'n then. L. 28. C _misprints_] secrely. L. 30. A and B] tipple in wine. 

p. 195, l. 3. A _omits_] ye. L. 11. A _repeats_] He swinge you. L. 15. A] utter, will all. L. 35. A and B] any devotions. 

p. 196, l. 2. B] with torch. L. 18. A _misprints_] _Short_, for _Wid. _

p. 197, l. 2. A] and a vertuous l. 3. A] bay him up. L. 13. B] a your. 

p. 198, l. 2. A] take. L. 3. A _omits_] a. L. 25. A] No armes, no armes. L. 27. A and B] hang 'tis. L. 33. A _omits_] a. 

p. 199, l. 5. B] An here. L. 10. A] his Nelson. L. 37. A _omits_] have. 

p. 200, l. 3. A] pound. L. 10. A _omits_] you. L. 20. B] such knell. Ll. 23 and 24. A] to raise. 

p. 201, l. 5. A] regements. L. 30. A and B] yond. 

p. 202, l. 2. B] sees yon. L. 3. A and B] thy Torch. L. 13. A] hay, but. L. 26. A and B] shall a Lady. 

p. 203, l. 10. A] their recompences. L. 20. A and B _add_] Exeunt. 

p. 204, l. 2. B _omits_] as. L. 4. A and B] this 'tis to. L. 12. A _omits_] put. L. 28. A and B] too. 

p. 205, l. 10. A] they are. B] they 'are. 

p. 207, l. 21. A and B _add_] Finis. 

 * * * * *

BEGGARS BUSH

(A) The First Folio, 1647. 

(B) The | Beggars | Bush. | Written by | Francis Beaumont, andJohn Fletcher, Gentlemen. | [wood-cut] London, | Printed for HumphreyRobinson, and Anne Mosley, | at the three Pigeons, and at the PrincesArms | in Saint Pauls Church-yard, 1661. 

Another issue of the above, dated 1661, has a fresh title-page and bearsthe following notice:--'You may speedily expect those other Playes, which | Kirkman, and his Hawkers have deceived the | buyers withall, selling them at treble the value, that | this and the rest will be soldfor, which are the | onely Originall and corrected copies, as they |were first purchased by us at no mean | rate, and since printed by us. '

B prints the Prologue and Epilogue to _The Captaine_ as though theybelonged to _Beggars Bush_, apparently treating the last page of_The Captain_ in A as though it were the first page of _BeggarsBush_. 

(C) The Second Folio. 

p. 208. A _omits_] A Comedy . .. The Scene Flanders. Ll. 2-4. B] Dramatis Personae. _These are as follows:_

Dramatis Personae. 

_Goswin_ a young Merchant of _Bruges_, viz. _Florez_ the right Earl of _Flanders_

_Woolfort_, Usurper of the Earldome, _Clause_ King of Beggars, _viz. Gerrard_ Father to _Florez_, _Hubert_ disguised like a Huntsman, A Lord of Flanders

_Hemskirk_, A Favourite of the Usurper.