Amends for Ladies. WITH THE HUMOUR OF ROARING. A comedy. As it was acted at the Black Friars, both by the PRINCE's Servants, and the Lady Elizabeth's.  
By Nat. Field.  
LONDON: Printed by G. Eld, for Math. Walbancke, and are to be sold at his Shop, at the new Gate of Grays-Inn, or at the old. 1618.   

AMENDS FOR LADIES.  
A comedy.  
Actus primi Scaena prima.  Enter the Lady HONOUR, the Lady PERFECT, the Lady BRIGHT. Maid. 
A Wife the happiest state? It cannot be.  Wife. 
Yes, such a wife as I, that have a man  
As if myself had made him: such a one  
As I may justly say, I am the rib  
Belonging to his breast. Widow and Maid,  
Your lives compared to mine are miserable,  
Though wealth and beauty meet in each of you.  
Poor virgin, all thy sport is thought of love,  
And meditation of a man, the time  
And circumstance ere thou canst fix thy thoughts  
On one thy fancy will approve.  Maid. 
That trouble already may be passed.  Wife. 
Why if it be.  
The doubt, he will not hold his brittle faith,  
That he is not a compatible choice,  
And so your noble friends will cross the match,  
Doth make your happiness uncertain still:  
Or say you married him, what he would prove.  
Can you compare your state then to a Wife?  Maid. 
Nay, all the freedom that a virgin hath  
Is much to be preferred. Who would endure  
The humours of so insolent a Thing  
As is a husband? Which of all the Herd  
Runs not possessed with some notorious vice,  
Drinking or whoring, fighting, jealousy,  
Even of a Page at twelve, or of a Groom,  
That rubs horse-heels? Is it not daily seen,  
Men take wives, but to dress their meat, to wash  
And starch their linen: for the other matter  
Of lying with them, that's but when they please:  
And whatsoe'er the joy be of the bed,  
The pangs that follow procreation  
Are hideous, or you wives have gulled your husbands  
With your loud shrikings, and your deathful throes.  
A Wife or Widow to a virgin's life?  Widow. 
Why should the best of you think ye enjoy  
The rest and rule, that a free widow doth?  
I am mine own commander, and the bliss  
Of wooers, and of each variety  
Frequents me, as I were a maid. No Brother  
Have I to dice my patrimony away, as you  
My maiden madam may. No husband's death  
Stand I in doubt on: for thanks be to heaven  
(If mine were good) the grievous loss of him  
Is not to come; if he were bad, he's gone,  
And I no more embrace my injury.  
But be yours ill, you nightly clasp your hate;  
Or good, why he may die, or change his virtue.  
And thou (though single) haste a bedfellow  
As bad as the worst husband, thought of one,  
And what that is, men with their wives do do,  
And long expectance till the deed be done.  
"A wife is like a garment used and torn:  
" A maid like one made up, but never worn.  Maid. 
"A widow is a garment worn threadbare,  
Selling at second hand, like broker's ware.  
But let us speak of things the present time  
Make happy to us, and see what is best.  
I have a servant than the crown of men,  
The fountain of Humanity, the prize  
Of every virtue, Moral and Divine;  
Young, valiant, learned, well-born, rich and shaped  
As if wise Nature when she fashioned him,  
Had meant to give him nothing but his form,  
Yet all additions are conferred on him,  
That may delight a woman: this same youth  
To me hath sacrificed his heart, yet I  
Have checked his suit, laughed at his worthy service,  
Made him the exercise of my cruelty,  
Whilst constant as the Sun, for all these clouds  
His love goes on.  Enter INGEN. Widow. 
Peace, here's the man you name.  Wife. 
Widow. we'll stand aside.  Ing. 
Good morrow to the glory of our age.  Meeting the Wife 
The Lady Perfect, and the Lady Bright,  
The virtuous wife and widow: but to you  
The Lady Honour, and my Mistress,  
The happiness of your witness.  Maid. 
By this light, I never heard one speak so scurvily,  
Utter such stale wit, and pronounce so ill.  
But to you,  
My Lady Honour, and my Mistress,  
The happiness of your wishes.  Ingen. 
Stop your wit,  
You would fain show these Ladies what a hand  
You hold over your servant. 't shall not need,  
I will express your tyranny well enough.  
I have loved this Lady since I was a child,  
Since I could construe Amo: now she says  
I do not love her, 'cause I do not weep,  
Lay mine arms o'er my heart, and wear no garters,  
Walk with mine eyes in my hat, sigh, and make faces  
For all the Poets in the town to laugh at,  
Pox a this howling love, t's like a dog  
Shut out midnight. Must love needs be powdered,  
Lie steeped in brine; or will it not keep sweet?  
Is it like beef in summer?  Maid. 
Did you ever  
Hear one talk fustian like a Butcher thus?  Ingen. 
'tis foolish, this same telling folks we love,  
It needs no words, t' will show itself in deeds,  
And did I take you for an entertainer,  
A Lady that will wring one by the finger,  
Whilst on another's toes she treads, and cries  
By Gad I love but one, and you are he:  
Either of them thinking himself the man,  
I'd tell you in your ear, put for the business,  
Which granted, or denied, Madam God bye.  Maid. 
Come these are daily slanders that you raise,  
On our infirm and unresisting Sex,  
You never met I am sure with such a Lady.  Ingen. 
Oh many by this light, I have seen a Chamber  
Frequented like an office of the Law,  
Clients succeed at midnight one another:  
Whilst the poor Madam Filth been so distressed,  
Which of her Loves to show most countenance to,  
That his dull Husband has perceived her wiles.  Maid. 
Nay perhaps taught her, many of those Husbands  
Are base enough  
To live upon't.  Ingen. 
I have seen another of 'em  
Cheat by this light at Cards, and set her women,  
To talk to the Gentlemen that played,  
That so distracted they might over see.  Maid. 
Oh fie upon ye, I dare swear you lie.  Ingen. 
Do not fair Mistress, you will be for sworn.  Maid. 
You men are all soul mouthed, I warrant, you  
Talk thus of me and other Ladies here,  
Because we keep the City.  Ingen. 
Oh profane.  
That thought would damn me, will you marry yet?  Maid. 
No I will never marry.  Ingen. 
Shall we then  
Couple unlawfully? for indeed this marrying  
Is but proclaiming what we mean to do;  
Which may be done privately, in civil sort  
And none the wiser, and by this white hand La:  
The wrack, strappado, or the boiling boot,  
Should never force me tell to wrong your honour.  Maid. 
May I believe this?  Ingen. 
Let it be your Creed.  Maid. 
But if you should prove false. Nay ne'er unhang  
Your sword, except you mean to hang yourself:  
Why where have you been drinking? 'sfoot you talk  
Like one of these same rambling boys,  
That reign in Turnbull-street.  Ingen. 
How do you know?  Maid. 
Indeed my knowledge, is but speculative  
Not practic there, I have it by Relation,  
From such observers as yourself dear Servant,  
I must profess, I did think well of thee,  
But get thee from my sight, I never more  
Will hear or see thee, but will hate thee deadly,  
As a man enemy, or a woman turned.  Enter Widow, Wife. 
Ladies come forth, see Sir what Courtesy  
You have done to me, a strange praise of you  
Had newly left my lips, just, as you entered,  
And how you have deserved it, with your carriage?  
Villain, thou hast hurt mine honour to these friends,  
For what can they imagine but some ill  
Hath passed betwixt us by thy broad discourse?  
Were my case theirs, by Virgin Chastity,  
I should condemn them: hence, depart my sight.  Ingen. 
Madam, but hear me, oh that these were men,  
And durst but say or think you ill, for this  
I have so good a cause upon my side.  
That I would cut their hearts out of their breasts:  
And the thoughts out of them that injured you.  
But I obey your best, and for my penance,  
Will run a course never to see you more,  
And now I lose you, may I lose the light:  
Since in that beauty dwelled my day or night.  Exit Ingen. Widd. 
Is this the virtuous youth?  Wife. 
Your happiness?  Widd. 
Wherein you thought your seat so far 'bove ours,  Maid. 
If one man could be good, this had been he.  Enter Subtle, HUSBAND, Fee-simple, WEL-TRID. 
See here comes all your suitors, and your Husband,  
And room for Laughter, here's the Lord Feesimple,  
What Gentlewoman does he bring along?  Enter HUSBAND, embracing Subtle, the Lord fee-simple, with young BOULD like a waiting Gentlewoman. WELL-TRIED, HUSB: Subtle talk with WIFE. Fees. 
One and thirty good-morrows to the fairest, wisest, chastest, richest Widow that ever conversation coped withal.  Widd. 
Three score and two unto the wisest Lord,  
That ever was trained in university.  Feesimp. 
Oh Courteous, bounteous Widow, she has outbid me 31. Good morrows at a clap.  Welt. 
But my Lord Feesimple you forgot the business imposed on you.  Fees. 
Gentlewoman, I cry thee mercy, but t's a fault in all Lords, not in me only, we do use to swear by our Honours: and as we are Noble, to dispatch such a business for such a Gentleman and we are bound, even by the same Honours we swore by, to forget it in a quarter of an hour. And look as if we had never seen the Party, when we meet next, especially if none of our Gentlemen have been considered.  Welt. 
ay, but all yours have, for you keep none my Lord: Besides though it stands with your Honour to forget men's businesses; yet it stands not with your Honour, if you do not do a woman's.  Feesi. 
Why then Madam, so it is that I request your Ladyship to accept into your service this Gentlewoman, for her truth & honesty I will be bound, I have known her too long to be deceived, this is the second time I have seen her.  Maid. 
Why how now my Lord: a preferrer of Gentlewomen to service like an old knitting woman? where hath She dwelled before.  Feesi. 
she dwelled with young Bould's sister, he that is my Corrival in your Love, she requested me to advance her to You; for you are a dubbed Lady: so is not she yet.  Welt. 
But now you talk of young Bold, when did you see him Lady?  Wid. 
Not this month Master Well-tried.  
I did conjure him to forbear my sight:  
Indeed swore if he came I'd be denied.  
But 'tis strange you should ask for him, ye two were wont never to be asunder.  Welt. 
Faith Madam we never were together but we differed on some argument or other,  
And doubting lest our discord might at length  
Breed to some quarrel, I forbear him to.  Fees. 
He quarrel? Bold: hang him, if he durst have quarrelled, the world knows he's within a mile of an oak has put him to't, and soundly, I never cared for him in my life, but to see his sister, he's an ass, pox an arrant ass, for do you think any but an arrant ass, would offer to come a-wooing, where a Lord attempts? he quarrel: he dares not quarrel.  Welt. 
But he dares fight my Lord, upon my knowledge,  
And rail no more my Lord, behind his back,  
For if you do my Lord blood must ensue.  draws. Fees. 
Oh, oh my honour dies, I am dead.  Welt. 
Ud'slight what's the matter, wring him by the nose  Wild. 
A pair of riding spurs now were worth gold,  Maid. 
Pins are as good, prick him, prick him  Feesim. 
Oh, oh.  Wife. 
he's come again, lift him up.  Omnes. 
How fares your Lordship?  Fees. 
Oh friends, you have wronged my spirit to call it back, I was e'en in Elysium at rest.  Welt. 
But why sir did you sown?  Feesi. 
Well though I die Master Well-tried before all these I do forgive you, because you were ignorant of my infirmity, oh sir, is't not up yet, I die again, put up now whilst I wink, or I do wink for ever.  Welt. 
'Tis up my Lord, open your eyes, but I pray tell me Is this antipathy twixt bright steel and you natural, or how grew it?  Feesi. 
I'll tell you sir, any thing bright and edged, works thus strongly with me, your hilts now I can handle as boldly, look you else.  Knight. 
Nay never blame my Lord Master Well-tried, for I know a great many will sown at the sight of a shoulder of mutton or a quarter of Lamb, my Lord may be excused then, for a naked sword.  Welt. 
This Lord, and this knight in dog-collars would make a fine brace of beagles.  Maid. 
But on my faith 'twas mightily overseen of your father, not to bring you up to foils, or if he had bound you Prentice to a Cutler or an Ironmonger.  Fees. 
I a pox, hang him old gouty fool, he never brought me up to any Lordly exercise, as fencing, dancing, rumbling, and such like: but forsooth I must write and read, & speak languages, and such base qualities, fit for none but Gentlemen. Now sir would I tell him, Father you are a Count, I am a Lo: a pox a writing and reading, and languages, let me be brought up as I was borne.  Subtle. 
But how my Lord came you first not to endure the sight of steel.  Feesi. 
Why I'll tell you Sir, when I was a child, an infant, an Innocent.  Maid. 
'twas e'en now.  Fees. 
I being in the kitchen, in my Lo: my father's house, the Cook was making minced pies: so sir, I standing by the Dresser, there lay a heap of plums. Here was he mincing; what did me I sir, being a notable little witty coxcomb, but popped my hand just under his chopping knife, to snatch some Raisins, and so was cut o'er the hand, and never since could I endure the sight of any edge-tool.  Wid. 
Indeed they are not fit for you my Lord, and now you are all so well satisfied in this matter, pray Ladies how like you this my Gentlewoman?  Maid. 
In troth Madam exceeding well I, if you be provided, pray let me have her.  Wife. 
It should be my request, but that I am full.  Wid. 
What can you do? What's her name my Lord?  Fees. 
Her name? I know not. What's her name Mr. Well-tried?  Weltr. 
Her name? slid, tell my Lady your name.  bold. 
Mistress Mary Princox forsooth.  Wid. 
Mistress Mary Princax: she has wit, I perceive that already. methinks she speaks as if she were a my Lord's brood.  bold 
Brood madam, 'tis well known I am a Gentlewoman. My father was a man of 500. per annum, and he held something in Capite too.  Welt. 
So does my Lord, something.  Fees. 
Nay, by my troth, what I hold in capite is worth little or nothing.  bold. 
I have had apt breeding, however my misfortune now makes me submit myself to service: but there is no ebb so low, but hath his tide again: when our days are at worst, they will mend in spite of the frowning Destinies. For we cannot be lower than earth, and the same blind Dame that hath cast her blear eyes hitherto upon my occasions, may turn her wheel, and at last wind them up with her white hand to some pinnacle that prosperously may flourish in the Sunshine of promotion.  Fees. 
Oh mouth, full of agility, I would give 20. Marks now to any person that could teach me to convey my tongue (sans stumbling) with such dexterity to such a period. For her truth and her honesty I am bound before, but now I have heard her talk, for her wit I will be bound body and goods.  Wid. 
Ud'slight, I will not leave her for my hood. I never met with one of these eloquent old Gentlewomen before. What age are you Mistress Mary Princox?  bold. 
I will not lie Madam, I have numbered 57. Summers, and just so many winters have I passed.  Subt. 
But they have not passed you, they lie frozen in your face.  bold. 
Madam, if it shall please you to entertain me, so: if not, I desire you not to misconstrue my good will, there's no harm done, the door's as big as it was, and your Ladyships own wishes crown your beauty with content. As for these frumping Gallants, let them do their worst: it is not in man's power to hurt me: 'tis well known I come not to be scoffed. A woman may bear and bear till her back burst. I am a poor Gentlewoman, and since virtue has nowadays no other companion but poverty, I set the hare's head against the Goose giblets, and what I want one way I hope I shall be enabled to supply the other.  Fees. 
an'nt please God, that thou wert not past children;  Wid. 
be't e'en so my Lord? nay good Princox do not cry, I do entertain you, how do you occupy? what can you use?  bold. 
Any thing fit to be put into the hands of a Gentlewoman.  Wid. 
What are your qualities?  bold. 
I can sleep on a low stool, if your Ladyship be talking in the same room with any Gentleman, I can read on a book, sing love songs, look up at the louvre light, hear and be deaf, see and be blind, be ever dumb to your secrets, swear and equivocate, and whatsoever I spy, say the best.  Wid. 
Oh rare crone? how art thou endued? but why did Master Bould's sister put you away?  bold. 
I beseech you madam to neglect that desire, though I know your ladyship's understanding to be sufficient to partake or take in the greatest secret; can be imparted: yet.—  Wid. 
Nay prithee tell the cause, come here's none but friends.  bold. 
Faith madam, heigh ho, I was (to confess truly) a little foolish in my last service, to believe men's oaths, but I hope my example, though prejudicial to myself, will be beneficial to other young Gentlewomen in service, my mistress's brother (the Gentleman you named e'en now, master Bold) having often attempted my honour, but finding it impregnable, vowed love, and marriage to me, at the last I, a young thing and raw, being seduced, set my mind upon him, but friends contradicting the match, I fell into a grievous consumption, and upon my first recovery, lest the intended sacred ceremonies of Nuptials should succeed, his sister knowing this, thought it fit in her judgement, we should be farther asunder, and so put me out of her service.  Omnes. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Wid. 
God a mercy for this discovery i'faith,  
Oh man what art thou? when thy cock is up? come will your lordship walk in? 'tis dinner time.  Enter hastily M. seldom with papers on his arm. Omnes. 
whose's this? whose's this?  Maid. 
This is our Landlord, Master Seldom,  
An exceeding wise Citizen, a very sufficient understanding man, and exceeding rich.  Om. 
Miracles are not ceased.  Wid. 
Good morrow Landlord, where have you been sweating?  Seld. 
Good morrow to your Honours, thrift is industrious, your Ladyship knows we will not stick to sweat for our pleasures, how much more ought we to sweat for our profits? I am come from master Ingen this morning, who is married or to be married, and though your Ladyships did not honour his Nuptials with your presence, he hath by me sent each of you a pair of gloves, and Grace Seldom my wife is not forgot.  Exit. Omnes. 
God give him joy, God give him joy.  Exeunt. Maid. 
Let all things most impossible change now.  
Oh perjured man! oaths are but words I see.  
But wherefore should not we that think we love  
Upon full merit, that same worth once ceasing  
Surcease our love to, and find new desert?  
Alas we cannot, love's a pit, which, when  
We fall into we ne'er get out again,  
And this same horrid news which me assaults  
I would forget, love blanches blackest faults:  
Oh! what path shall I tread for remedy?  
But darkest shades, where love with death doth lie.  Exit. Manent HUSBAND, WIFE, Subtle. Wife. 
Sir I have often heard my husband speak of your acquaintance.  Husb. 
Nay my virtuous wife,  
Had it been but acquaintance, this his absence  
Had not appeared so uncouth, but we two  
Were Schoolfellows together, borne and nursed,  
Brought up, and lived since like the Gemins,  
Had but one suck, the Tavern or the Ordinary.  
Ere I was married, that saw one of us  
Without the other, said we walked by halves,  
Where dear, dear friend have you been all this while?  Subt. 
Oh most sweet friend the World's so vicious,  
That had I with such familiarity  
Frequented you since you were married,  
Possessed and used your fortunes as before,  
As in like manner you commanded mine,  
The depraved thoughts of men would have proclaimed  
Some scandalous rumours from this love of ours,  
As saying, mine reflected on your Lady,  
And what a wound had that been to our souls?  
When only friendship should have been the ground  
To hurt her Honour, and your confident peace,  
Spite of mine own approved integrity.  Husb. 
Wife, kiss him, bid him welcome pox o'th' World,  
Come, come you shall not part from me in haste,  
I do command thee use this Gentleman  
In all things like myself, if I should die  
I would bequeath him in my will to thee.  Wife. 
Sir, you are most welcome, & let scandalous tongues  
No more deter you, I dare use you Sir,  
With all the right belonging to a friend,  
And what I dare, I dare let all man see  
My conscience rather, than men's thoughts be free.  Husb. 
Will you look in?  
we'll follow you. Now friend  Exit. Wife. 
What think you of this Lady?  Subt. 
Why sweet friend,  
That you are happy in her, she is fair,  
Witty and virtuous, and was rich to you,  
Can there be an addition to a wife?  Husb. 
Yes, constancy, for 'tis not chastity  
That lives remote from all attempers free,  
But there, t's strong and pure where all that woo  
It doth resist, and turns them virtuous too;  
Therefore dear friend, by this, loves masculine kiss,  
By all our mutual engagements passed,  
By all the hopes of amity to come,  
Be you the settler of my jealous thoughts,  
And make me kill my fond suspect of her,  
By assurance that she is loyal, otherwise  
That she is false, and then, as she's past cure,  
My soul shall ever after be past care.  
That you are fittest for this enterprise  
You must needs understand, since prove she true  
(In this your trial) you my dearest friend,  
(Whom only, rather than the World beside  
I would have satisfied of her virtue) shall be,  
And best conceal my folly, prove she weak,  
'tis better you should know't than any man,  
Who can reform her, and do me no wrong,  
Chemical metals, and bright gold itself  
By sight are not distinguished, but byth' test,  
Thought makes good wives, but trial makes the best:  
To the unskilful owner's eyes, alike  
The Bristol sparkles as the Diamond,  
But by a Lapidary the truth is found,  
Come you shall not deny me.  Subt. 
Do not wrong  
So fair a wife (friend) and so virtuous,  
Whose good name is a theme unto the World,  
Make not a wound with searching where was none,  
Misfortune still such projects doth pursue,  
He makes a false wife, that suspects a true;  
Yet since you so importune, give me leave  
To ruminate a while, and I will straight  
Follow and give you an answer.  Husb. 
You must do it.  Exit. Subt. 
Assure yourself dear— Coxcomb, I will do't  
Or strangely be denied, all's as I wished,  
This was my aim, although I have seemed strange.  
I know this fellow now to be an Ass;  
A most unworthy husband though in view  
He bear himself thus fair, she knows this too,  
Therefore the stronger are my hopes to gain her:  
And my dear friend that will have your wife tried,  
I'll try her first, then thrust her if I can,  
And as you said most wisely I hoped to be  
Both Touchstone to your wise and Lapidary.  Exit.  

Actus secundi Scaena prima.  Enter seldom his WIFE working as in their shop. Grace. 
Husband these gloves are not fit for my wearing, I'll put 'em into the shop and sell 'em, you shall give me a plain pair for them.  Seld. 
This is wonderful, wonderful, this is thy sweet care and judgement in all things, this goodness is not usual in our wives, well Grace Seldom, that thou art fair is nothing, that thou art well spoken is nothing, that thou art witty is nothing, that thou art a citizen's wife is nothing; but Grace, that thou art fair, that thou art well spoken, that thou art witty, that thou art a citizen's wife, and that thou art honest I say, and let any must deny it that can, it is something, it is something, I say, it is Seldome's something, and for all the Sunshine of my joy mine eyes must rain upon thee.  Enter MALL with a Letter. Mall. 
By your leave Master Seldom, have you done the hangers I bespoke for the Knight?  Seld. 
Yes marry have I Mistress hic & hac, i'll fetch 'em to you.  Exit. Mall. 
zounds, does not your husband know my name, if it had been somebody else I would have called him cuckoldly slave.  Grace. 
If it had been somebody else perhaps you might.  Mall. 
Well I may be even with him, all's clear; pretty rogue I have longed to know thee this twelve months, and had no other means but this to speak with thee, there's a letter to thee from the party.  Grace. 
What party?  Mall. 
The Knight Sir john Lovall.  Grace. 
Hence lewd impudent  
I know not what to term thee man or woman,  
For nature shaming to acknowledge thee  
For either; hath produced thee to the World  
Without a sex, some say thou art a woman,  
Others a man; and many thou art both  
Woman and man, but I think rather neither  
Or man and horse, as the old centaurs were feigned.  Mall. 
Why how now Mistress, what lack ye? are you so so fine with a pox? I have seen a woman look as modestly as you, and speak as sincerely, and follow the Friars as zealously, and she has been as sound a jumbler as e'er paid for't, 'tis true Mris. fipeny, I have sworn to leave this letter.  Grace. 
D''ee hear, you sword and target (to speak in  
your own key) Marry Umbree, Long-Meg,  
Thou that in thyself( methink'st) alone  
Look'st like a rogue and a whore under a hedge:  
Bawd, take your letter with you and begone,  
When next you come (my Husband's Constable)  
And Bridewell is hard by, you'ave a good wit,  
And can conceive.  Enter seldom with hangers. Seld. 
Look you, here are the hangers.  Mall. 
Let's see them.  
Fie, fie, you have mistook me quite,  
They are not for my turn (b'y mistress Seldom)  Exit. Enter Lord proudly. Grace. 
here's my Lord Proudly.  Lo. Proud. 
My Horse Lackey, is my sister Honour above?  Seld. 
I think her Ladyship, my Lord, is not well, and keeps her Chamber.  Proud. 
all's one, I must see her, have the other La. dined?  Grace. 
I think not my Lord.  Proud. 
Then i'll take a pipe of Tobacco here in your shop if it be not offensive, I would be loath to be thought to come just at dinner time. Garsoon; fill, sirrah, Enter PAGE with a pipe of Tobacco .What said the goldsmith for the money?  seldom having fetch a candle, walks off at th' other end of the Shop, Lord sits by his wife. Page. 
He said my Lord he would lend no man money that he durst not arrest.  Proud. 
How got that wit into Cheapside 'tro, he is a Cuckold.  
Saw you my Lady today, what says she?  Takes Tobacco Page. 
Marry my Lord, she said her old husband had a great payment to make this morning, and had not left her so much as a jewel.  Proud. 
A pox of her old cat's chops, the teeth she had, have made a transmigration into hair, she hath a bigger beard than I by this light.  Sel. 
This custom in us Citizens is good,  Lo: whispers to Grace. 
Thus walking off when men talk with our wives,  
It shows us courteous, and mannerly,  
Some count it baseness, he's a fool that does so,  
It is the highest point of policy  
Especially when we have virtuous wives.  Gr. 
Fie, fie, you talk uncivilly my Lord.  Pr. 
Uncivilly, mew, can a Lord talk uncivilly? I think you a finical taffatae pipkin may be proud i'll sit so near it, uncivilly mew.  Gr. 
Your mother's Cat has kittened in your mouth sure:  Pr. 
Prithee but note yon Fellow, does he not walk & look as if he did desire to be a Cuckold?  Gr. 
But you do not look as if you could make him one, now they have dined my Lord.  Enter Lord Feesimple, Master Well-tried. Feesi. 
God save your Lordship.  Pr. 
How dost thou coz, hast thou got any more wit yet?  Feesim. 
No by my troth I have but little money with that little wit I have, and the more wit ever the less money, yet as little as I have of either: I would give some thing that I durst but quarrel,  
I would not be abused thus daily as I am.  Welt. 
Save you my Lord.  Pr. 
Good Master Well-tried, you can inform me, pray how ended the quarrel betwixt young Bold, and the other Gentleman.  Welt. 
Why very fairly my Lord, on honourable terms,  
Young Bold was injured and did challenge him,  
Fought in the field, and the other gave him satisfaction  
Under his hand, I was Bould's second, and can show it here.  Pr. 
'tis strange there was no hurt done, yet I hold the other Gentleman, far the better Man.  Welt. 
So do not I.  Pr. 
Besides they say the satisfaction that walks in the Ordinaries, is counterfeit.  Welt. 
He lies that says so, and i'll make it good,  
And for I know my friend is out of town,  
What Man soever wrongs him is my foe,  
I say he had full satisfaction,  
Nay that which we may call submission:  
That the other sought peace first, and who denies this,  
Lord, Knight, or Gentleman, English, French, or Scot,  
I'll fight and prove it on him with my sword.  Feesi. 
No sweet Master Well-tried, let's have no fighting till (as you have promised) you have rid me from this foolish fear, and taught me to endure to look upon a naked Sword.  Welt. 
Well and i'll be as good as my word.  Feesi. 
But do you hear cousin Proudly? they say my old Father must marry your sister Honour, and that he will disinherit me, and entail all his Lordships on her, and the heir he shall beget on her body, is't true or not?  Proudly. 
There is such a report.  Feesi. 
Why then I pray God he may die an old cuckoldly  
slave, oh world what art thou? where is parents' love?  
Can he deny me for his natural Child,  
Yet see (oh fornicator) old and stiff,  
Not where he should be, that's my comfort yet,  
As for you my Lord: I will send to you as soon as I dare fight and look upon steel, which Master Well-tried I pray let be with all possible speed.  Pr. 
What d''ee this afternoon.  Feesi. 
Faith I have a great mind to see long-megg and the ship at the Fortune.  Pr. 
Nay i'faith let's up and have a rest at Primero.  Welt. 
Agreed my Lord, and toward the Evening i'll carry you to the Company.  Feesi. 
Well no more words.  Exeunt Lord PROVDLY, Lord FEES. WEL-TR. Grace. 
I wonder Sir you will walk so and let anybody sit prating to your wife! were I a man I'd thrust'em out o'th' shop by the head and shoulders.  Sol. 
There were no policy in that wife, so should I lose their custom, let them talk themselves weary, and give thee love tokens still, I lose not by it.  
Thy chastity's impregnable, I know it,  
Had I a dame whose eyes did swallow youth,  
Whose unchaste gulf together did take in  
Masters, and Men, the Foot-bodies and their Lords, Making a Gallimaufry in her blood,  
I would not walk thus then: but virtuous wife,  
He that in chaste ears poors his ribald talk  
Begets hate to himself, and not consent;  
And even as dirt thrown hard against a wall  
Rebounds and sparkles in the throwers eyes,  
So ill words uttered to a virtuous Dame,  
Turn and defile the speaker with red shame.  Exeunt. Enter HUSBAND and WIFE. Hus. 
zounds, you are a whore, though I entreat him fair  
Before his face, in complement, or so,  
I not esteem him truly as this rush,  
there's no such thing as friendship in the world,  
And he that can not swear, dissemble, lie,  
Wants knowledge how to live, and let him die.  Wife. 
Sir I did think you had esteemed of him  
As you made show, therefore I used him well,  
And yet not so but that the strictest eye  
I durst have made a witness of my carriage.  Husb. 
Plague a your carriage, why he kissed your hand,  
Looked babies in your eyes, and wink't and pinked,  
You thought I had esteemed him, 'Sblood you whore,  
Do not I know, that you do know you lie,  
When didst thou hear me say and mean one thing?  
Oh I could kick you now, and tear your face  
And eat thy Breasts like udders.  Wife. 
Sir you may, but if I know what hath deserved all this I am no woman, 'cause he kissed my hand, unwillingly.  Hurb. 
A little louder pray.  Wife. 
You are a base fellow, an unworthy man  
As e'er poor Gentlewoman matched withal,  
Why should you make such show of love to any  
Without the truth, thy beastly mind is like  
Some decayed Tradesman that doth make his wife  
Entertain those for gain he not endures,  
Pish, swell and burst, I had rather with thy sword  
Be hewed to pieces, then lead such a life,  
Out with it valiant sir, I hold you for  
A drawer upon women, not on men,  
I will no more conceal your hollow heart,  
But e'en report you as you are in truth.  Hub. 
This is called marriage, stop your mouth you whore.  Wife. 
Thy mother was a whore if I be one.  Enter Subtle. Hus. 
You know there's company in the house, sweet friend  
What have you writ your letter?  Sub. 
'tis done, dear friend, I have made you stay too long  
I fear you'll be benighted.  Husb. 
Fie, no, no,  
madam & sweetest wife farewell, God bless us,  
Make much of master Subtle here my friend  kiss her. 
Till my return, which may be e'en as't happens,  
According as my business hath success.  Exit. Subt. 
How will you pass the time, now fairest Mistress.  Wife. 
In troth I know not, wives without their husbands  
methinks are lowering days.  Subt. 
Indeed some wives  
Are like dead bodies in their husband's absence.  Wife. 
If any Wife be, I must needs be so  
That have a Husband far above all men,  
Untainted with the humours others have,  
A perfect man, and one that loves you truly,  
You see the charge he left of your good usage.  Subt. 
Push, he's an Ass, I know him, a stark Ass.  
Of a most barbarous condition,  
falsehearted to his friend, rough unto you,  
A most dissembling and perfidious fellow,  
I care not if he heard me, this I know,  
And will make good upon him with my sword  
Or any for him, for he will not fight.  Wife. 
Fie servant, you show small civility  
And less humanity, d''ee require  
My husband's love thus ill, or what d''ee think  
Of me, that you will utter to my face  
Such harsh, unfriendly, slanderous injuries  
Even of my Husband? Sir, forbear I pray  
My ears, or your own tongue, I am no housewife  
To hear my husband's merit thus depraved.  Subt. 
His merit is a halter by this light,  
You think he's out of Town now, no such matter  
But gone aside, and hath importuned me  
To try your chastity.  Wife. 
It cannot be,  
Alas he is as free from jealousy,  
And ever was as confidence itself,  
I know he loves me to, too heartily  
To be suspicious, or to prove my truth.  Subt. 
If I do feign in aught, ne'er may I purchase  
The grace I hope for, and fair mistress  
If you have any spirit or wit, or sense,  
You will be even with such a wretched slave,  
Heaven knows I love you, as the air I draw,  
Think but how finely you may cuckold him,  
And safely too, with me, who will report  
To him, that you are most invincible,  
Your Chastity not to be subdued by man.  Wife. 
When you know, I'm a whore.  Subt. 
A whore, fie, no,  
That you have been kind, or so, your whore doth live  
In Pickt-hatch, Turnebole-streete.  Wife 
Your whore lives there,  
Well Servant leave me to myself a while,  
Return a none, but bear this hope away,  
'tshall be with you, if I at all do stray.  Exit. Subtle. 
Why here's right worldly friendship, ye are well met;  
Oh men! what are you? why is our poor sex  
Still made the disgrac't subjects, in these plays?  
For vices, folly, and inconstancy?  
When were men looked into with such critical eyes  
Of observation, many would be found  
So full of gross and base corruption,  
That none (unless the Devil himself turned writer)  
Could feign so badly, to express them truly;  
Some wives that had a husband now like mine,  
Would yield their honours up, to any man,  
Far be it from my thoughts, oh let me stand,  
Thou God of marriage and chastity,  
An honour to my sex, no injury,  
Compel the virtue of my breast to yield,  
i's not revenge for any wife, to stain  
The nuptial bed, although she be yoked ill,  
Who falls, because her husband so hath done,  
Cures not his wound, but in herself makes one.  Ex. Wife. Enter INGEN reading a letter, sits down in a Chair and stamps with his foot: to him a Servant. Ing. 
Who brought this Letter?  Seru. 
A little Irish footboy, Sir, he stays without for an answer.  Ing. 
Bid him come in Lord.  
What deep dissemblers are these females, all,  
How far unlike a friend, this Lady used me,  
And here, how like one mad in love, she writes:  Enter MAID like an Irish footboy with a dart, and gloves in her pocket, and a handkercher. 
So bless me Heaven, but thou art the prettiest boy  
That e'er ran by a Horse, hast thou dwelled long  
With thy fair Mistress?  Maid. 
I came but this morning, Sir.  Ing. 
How fares thy Lady, boy?  Maid. 
Like to a turtle, that hath lost her mate,  
Drooping she sits, her grief Sir cannot speak,  
Had it a voice articulate, we should know  
How, and for what she suffers; and perhaps,  
(But 'tis unlikely) give her Comfort Sir,  
Weeping she sits, and all the sound comes from her,  
Is like the murmur of a silver Brook,  
Which her tears truly, would make there about her,  
Sat she in any hollow continent.  Ing. 
Believe me boy; thou hast a passionate tongue,  
Lively expression, or thy memory  
Hath carried thy lesson well away,  
But wherefore mourns thy Lady?  Maid. 
Sir, you know,  
And would to God I did not know myself.  Ing. 
Ah 'las, it cannot be for love to me,  
When last I saw her she reviled me (boy)  
With bitterest words, and wished me never more  
To approach her sight, and for my marriage, now  
I do sustain it, as a penance, due  
To the desert, that made her banish me.  Maid. 
Sir, I dare swear, she did presume, no words  
Nor dangers, had been powerful to restrain  
Your coming to her, when she gave the charge—  
But are you married truly?  Ing. 
Why my Boy?  
Dost think I mock myself, I sent her gloves.  Maid. 
The gloves she has returned you Sir by me,  
And prays you give them to some other Lady  
That you'll deceive next, and be perjured to.  
Sure you have wronged her Sir, she bade me tell you,  
She ne'er thought goodness dwelled in many men,  
But what there was of goodness in the world,  
She thought you had it all, but now she sees  
The jewel she esteemed is counterfeit  
That, you are but a common man, yourself,  
A traitor to her, and her virtuous love;  
That all men are betrayers and their breasts  
As full of dangerous gulfs, as is the Sea,  
Where any woman thinking to find harbour,  
She and her honour are precipitated,  
And never to be brought with safety off:  
alas my hapless Lady, desolate,  
Distressed, forsaken Virgin.  Ing. 
Sure this Boy  
Is of an excellent nature, who so newly  
ta'en to her service, feels his Mistress grief,  
As he and they were old familiar friends,  
Why weep'st thou gentle Lord?  Maid. 
Who hath one tear,  
And would not save't from all occasions,  
From Brother's slaughters, and from mother's deaths  
To spend it here, for my distressed Lady;  
But Sir my Lady did command me beg  
To see your wife, that I may bear to her  
The sad report, what creature could make you  
Untie the hand-fast plighted unto her.  Enter his Brother like a woman masked. Ingen kisses her. Ingen. 
Wife, wife, come forth now— Gentle boy, be judge  
If such a face as this being paid with scorn  
By her I did adore, had not full power  
To make me marry.  Maid. 
By the God of Love,  
she's a fair Creature, but faith should be fairer.  
My Lady, Gentle Mistress, one that thought  
She had some interest in this Gentleman,  
(Who now is only yours) Commanded me  
To kiss your white hand, and to sigh and weep,  
And wish you that content she should have had  
In the fruition of her Love you hold,  
She bad me say, God give you joy, to both;  
Yet this withal (if ye were married)  
No one, her footsteps ever more should meet,  
Nor see her face, but in a winding sheet.  Brother. 
alas poor Lady, i'faith I pity her,  
And, but to be i'th' same state, could forego  
Any thing I possess, to ease her woe.  Maid. 
loves blessing light upon thy gentle soul,  
Men rail at women Mistress, but it is we  
Are false and cruel, ten times more unkind,  
You are smother far, and of a softer mind:  
Sir, I have one request more.  Ing. 
Gentle Lad, It must be one of a strange-quality  
That I deny thee, both thy form, and mind.  
Inform me that thy nurture hath been better,  
Than to betray thee to this present life.  Maid. 
'tis, that you would vouchsafe to entertain me,  
My feet do tremble under me, to bear  
My body back unto my uncouth Lady,  
To assure her grief; what heart so hard, would owe  
A tongue, to tell so sad a tale to her?  
alas, I dare not look upon her eyes,  
Where wronged love, sits like the basilisk,  
And sure would kill me for my dire report,  
Or rather should not I appear like death,  holding up his dart. 
When every word I speak shot through her heart,  
More mortally than his unsparing dart.  Brother. 
Let me speak for the Boy.  Ing. 
To what end (love)  
No, I will sue to him, to follow me,  
Introth I love thy sweet condition,  
And may live to inform thy Lady of thee;  
Come in dry, dry thine eyes, respite thy woe:  
The effects of causes, crown, or overthrow.  Enter Lo. PROVD. Lo. FEESIM. WEL-TRI'D, Ma. seldom, WIDD. BOULD pin in a Ruff, WIFE. Proud. 
'Slight, what should be become of her, you swear she passed not forth of doors, and i'th' house she is not?  Widd. 
Did you not see her Princox?  Proud. 
This same Bawd has brought her letters from some younger brother, and she is stole away.  bold. 
Bawd, I defy you, indeed your Lordship thinks, you may make Bawds of whom you please, i'll take my oath upon a book, since I met her in the necessary house i'th' morning, I ne'er set eye on her.  Grace 
she went not out of doors.  Proud 
Sure she has an invisible ring.  Feesi 
Marry she's the honester woman, for some of their ring are visible enough, the more shame for them, still say I, let the pond at Islington be searched: go to, there's more have drowned themselves for love this year than you are aware of.  Proud. 
Pish, you are a fool.  Welt. 
S'hart call him fool again.  Feesi. 
By this light and I will, as soon as ever you have show'd me the Swaggerers.  Wife. 
Her clothes are all yonder my Lord.  Grace. 
And even those same she had on today.  Proud. 
Madam where is your Husband?  Wife. 
Rid into the Country.  Feesi. 
O' my conscience, rid into France with your sister.  Omnes. 
Away, away for shame.  Feesi. 
Why, I hope she is not the first Lady that has run away with other women's husbands.  Welt. 
It may be she's stolen out to see a play.  Proud. 
Who should go with her, man?  Wid. 
Upon my life you'll hear on her at Master Ingens house, some love passed betwixt them, and we heard that he was married today, to another.  Proud. 
S'hart, i'll go see.  Exit. Proudly. Welt. 
Come to the Swaggerers.  Exeunt Feesi, Welt. Feesi. 
Mercy upon me, a man or a— Lord now?  Omnes. 
here's a coil, with a Lord and his sister.  Wid. 
Princox, hast not thou pined in that Ruff yet, ah! how thou fumblest.  bold. 
Troth Madam, I was ne'er brought up to it, 'tis chambermaids work, and I have ever lived Gentlewoman. And been used accordingly.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertius.  Enter HUSBAND and Subtle. Subt. 
she's a rare wife believe it Sir, were all such,  
we never should have false inheritors.  Husb. 
Pish friend, there is no woman in the world  
Can hold out in the end, If youth, shape, wit,  
Met in one subject, do assault her aptly,  
For failing once, you must not faint but try  
Another way, the path of women's minds  
Are crooked, and diverse, they have by-ways  
To lead you to the Palace of their pleasures,  
And you must woo discreetly; first observe  
The disposition of her you attempt,  
If she be sprightly, and heroical,  
Possess her that you are valiant, and have spirit,  
Talk nothing but of beating every man  
That is your hindrance, though you do not do it,  
Or dare not, 'tis no matter. Be she free  
And of a liberal soul, give bounteously  
To all the servants, let your angels fly  
About the room, although you borrowed 'em.  
If she be witty, so must your discourse  
Get wit, what shift soe'er you make for it,  
Though't cost you all your land, and then a song  
Or two is not amiss, although you buy 'em,  
There's many in the Town will furnish you.  Subt. 
But still I tell you, you must use her roughly,  
Beat her face black and blue, take all her clothes  
And give them to some Punk, this will be ground  
For me to work upon.  Husb. 
All this I have done.  
I have left her now, as bare, that should I die,  
Her fortune (o my conscience) would be  
To marry some Tobacco-man, she has nothing  
But an old black-work waistcoat, which would serve  
Exceeding well to fit i'th' shop and light  
Pipes for the lousy Footmen (and sweet friend)  
First here's a jewel to present her, then  
Here is a Sonnet writ against myself,  
Which as thine own thou shalt accost her with,  
Farewell and happy success attend thee.  Exit. Subt. 
Ha, ha, ha.  [he reads. 
Faire'd, still wilt thou be true  
To a man so false to thee?  
Did be lend a husband's due,  
Thou didst owe him loyalty;  
But will curses, wants and blows  
Breed no change in thy white soul?  
Be not a fool to thy first vows,  
Since his breach, doth thy faith control,  
No beauty else, could be so chaste,  
Think not thou honour'st women then,  
Since by thy conscience, all disgraced,  
Are robbed of the dear loves of men;  
Then grant me my desire that vow to prove  
A real husband, his adulterate love.  
Took ever man more pains to be a Cuckold?  
Oh! monstrous age where men themselves we see,  
Study and pay for their own infamy.  Exit. Enter INGEN, MAID, PROVDLY, BROTHER like a woman, swords drawn. Proud. 
Give me my sister, I'll have her forth thy heart.  Ing. 
No earthly Lord can pull her out of that,  
Till he have plucked my heart first out, my Lord  
Were't not inhospitable, I could wrong you here  
In mine own house. I am so full of woe,  
For your lost sister that by all my joys  
Hop't for in her, my heart weeps tears of blood,  
A whiter virgin, and a worthier,  
Had ne'er creation: Leda's Swan was black  
To her virginity, and immaculate thoughts.  Proud. 
Where hast thou hid her? give her me again,  
For by the God of vengeance, be she lost,  
The female hate shall spring betwixt our names,  
Shall never die, while one of either house  
Survives, our children shall at seven years old  
Strike knives in one another.  Ing. 
Let Hell gape  
And take me quick, if I know where she is,  
But am so charged with sorrow for her loss,  
Being one cause of it (as no doubt I am)  
That I had rather fall upon my sword  [Offering to kill himself 
Then breathe a minute longer.  Broth. 
Oh sir! hold.  Proud. 
Thou shalt not need, I have a sword to bathe  
In thy false blood, inhuman murderer.  Maid. 
Good Sir be pacified, i'll go, i'll run  
Many a mile to find your sister out;  
She never was so desperate of grace,  
By violence to rob herself of life,  
And so her soul in danger; comfort Sir,  
she's but retired somewhere on my life.  Ing. 
Prithee let me alone—  [To his Brother. 
Do I stand to defend that wretched life  
That is in doubt of hers, here worthy Lord,  
Behold a breast, framed of thy sister's love,  
Hew it, for thou shalt strike but on a stock,  
Since she is gone that was the cause it lived.  Proud. 
Out false dissembler, are not married?  Ing. 
No, behold, it is my younger brother dressed,  Plucks off his headtir. 
A man, no woman, that hath gulled the world,  
Intended for a happier event  
Than this that followed, that she now is gone,  
Oh fond experiments of simple man,  
Fool to thy fate, since all thy project meant  
But mirth, is now converted unto death.  Maid. 
Oh do not burst me joy, that modesty  aside. 
Would let me show myself to finish all.  Proud. 
Nay, then thou hast my sister somewhere villain,  
'tis plain now, thou wilt steal thy marriage,  
She is no match for thee, assure thyself.  
If all the law in England, or my friends  
Can cross it, 'tshall not be.  Ing. 
Would 'twere so well,  
And that I knew the Lady to be safe.  
Give me no ill words; Sir, this Boy and I  
Will wander like to pilgrims, till we find her:  
If you do love her as you talk, do so:  
The love or grief that is expressed in words,  
Is sleight and easy, 'tis but shallow woe  
That makes a noise, deep'st water's stillest go;  
I love her better than thy parents did,  
Which is beyond a Brother.  Proud. 
Slave, thou liest.  Ing. 
zounds.  [about to strike Broth. 
Kill him.  Maid. 
Oh hold; Sir, you dishonour much your brother,  
To counsel him 'gainst hospitality,  
To strike in his own house.  Ing. 
You, Lord insolent, I will fight with you,  
Take this, as a challenge, and set your time.  Proud. 
Tomorrow morning Ingen,  
'tis that I covet, and provoke thee for.  Bro. 
will you not strike him now?  Ing. 
No, my good Boy  
Is both discreet and just in his advise,  
Thy glories are to last but for a day;  
Give me thy hand, tomorrow morning thou shalt be no Lo.  Proud. 
Tomorrow noon, thou shalt not be at all.  Ing. 
Pish, why should you think so, have not I arms,  
A soul as bold as yours, a sword as true:  
I do not think your Honour in the field  
Without your Lordship's liveries will have odds.  Pr. 
Farewell, and let's have no excuses, pray.  Exit. Pr. Ing. 
I warrant you, pray say your prayers tonight,  
And bring no inkhorn w'ee, to set your hand to  
A satisfactory recantation.  Exit. Maid. 
Oh wretched Maid, whose sword can I pray for?  
But by the other's loss, I must find death,  
Oh odious brother, if he kill my love,  
Oh bloody Love, if he should kill my brother;  
Despair on both sides of my discontent,  
tells me no safety rests but to prevent.  Exit. Enter widow and BOULD like Princox. Wid. 
What's o'clock Princox?  bold. 
Bedtime an't please you madam.  Wild. 
Come, undress me, would God had made me a man.  bold. 
Why, madam?  Wid. 
Because I would have been in bed as soon as they, we are so long unpinning and unlacing.  Bou. 
Yet many of us madam are quickly undone sometime, but herein we have the advantage of men, though they can be a-bed sooner than we, it's a great while when they are a-bed ere they can get up.  Wid. 
Indeed if they be well laid Princox, one cannot get them up again in haste.  bold. 
Oh God madam, how mean you that, I hope you know, ill things taken into a Gentlewoman's ears, are the quick corrupters of maiden modesty, I would be loath to continue in any service unfit for my virgin estate, or where the world should take any notice of light behaviour in the Lady I follow: for madam, the main point of chastity in a Lady, is to build the rock of a good opinion amongst the people by circumstances, and a fair show she must make, Si, non cast, tamen caste Madame, and though wit be a wanton madam: yet I beseech your Ladyship for your own credit and mine, let the bridle of judgement be always in the chaps of it to give it head, or restrain it, according as time and place shall be convenient.  Wid. 
Precise and learned Princox, dost not thou go to Blackfriars.  bold. 
Most frequently madam, unworthy vessel that I am to partake or retain any of the delicious dew, that is there distilled.  Wid. 
But why shouldst thou ask me what I meant e'en now, I tell thee there's nothing uttered that carries a double sense, one good, one bad, but if the hearer apply it to the worst, the fault lies in his or her corrupt understanding, not in the speaker, for to answer your latin: pravis omnia prava, believe me wench, if ill come into my fancy, I will purge it by speech, the less will remain within: a pox of these nice mouthed creatures, I have seen a narrow pair of lips utter as broad a tail, as can be bought for money; Indeed an ill tale unuttered, is like a maggot in a nut, it spoils the whitest kernel.  bold. 
You speak most intelligently madam.  Wid. 
hast not done yet? thou art an old fumbler, I perceive methinks thou dost not do things like a woman.  bold. 
madam, I do my endeavour, and the best can do no more, they that could do better, it may be would not, and then 'twere all one, but rather than be a burden to your Ladyship, I protest sincerely, I would beg my bread, therefore I beseech you madam to hold me excused, and let my good will stand for the action.  Wid. 
Let thy good will stand for the action? If good will would do it, there's many a Lady in this Land would be content with her old Lord, and thou canst not be a burden to me, without thou lie upon me, and that were preposterous in thy sex; take no exceptions at what I say, remember you said stand even-now, there was a word for one of your coat indeed.  bold. 
I sweat madam, you are very merry, God send you good luck, has your Ladyship no waters, that you use at bedtime?  Wid. 
No in troth, Princox.  bold. 
No Complexion?  Wid. 
None but mine own I swear, didst thou ever use any?  bold. 
No indeed madam: now and then a piece of scarlet, or so; a little white and red Ceruse; but in troth madam, I have an excellent receipt for a night mask, as ever you heard.  Wid. 
What is it?  bold. 
boar's grease one ounce, Jordan Almonds blanched and ground a quartern, red Rose-water, half a pint, mare's urine, newly covered, half a score drops.  Wid. 
Fough, no more of thy medicine, if thou lov'st me, few of our Knights errant, when they meet a fair Lady errant, in a morning, would think her face had lain so plastered all night: thou hast had some Apothecary to thy sweet heart: but leaving this face physic, for (by my troth) it may make others have good ones; but it makes me make a scurvy one. Which of all the Gallants in the Town wouldst thou make a husband of, if thou might'st have him for thy choosing?  bold. 
In troth madam, ay but you'll say I speak blindly, but let my love stand aside.  Wid. 
I think it not fit indeed your love should stand in the middle.  Boul. 
I say Master Bold; oh, do but mark him madam, his leg, his hand, his body, & all his members stand in print.  Wid. 
Out upon thee Princox; no, methinks well-tried a handsome fellow, I like not these starched Gallants: masculine faces, and masculine gestures please me best.  bold. 
How like you Master Pert?  Wid. 
Fie upon him, when he is in his scarlet clothes, he looks like man of wax, and I had as leave have a dog a wax, I do not think but he lies in a case a-nights, he walks as if he were made of gives, as if nature had wrought him in a frame, I have seen him sit discontented a whole play, because one of the purls of his band was fallen (out of his reach) to order again.  bold. 
Why? Bold madam is clean contrary.  Wid. 
ay but that's as ill, each extreme, is a like vicious; his careful carelessness is his study, he spends as much time to make himself slovenly, as the other to be spruce, his garters hang ever on the calves of his legs, his doublet unbuttoned, and his points untrust, his hair in's eyes like a drunkard, and his hat worn on his hinder part of his head, as if he cared more for his memory, than his wit: makes him look as if he were distracted; Princox, I would have you lie with me, I do not love to lie alone.  bold. 
With all my heart madam.  Wid. 
Are you clean skinned?  bold. 
Clean skinned Madam? there's a question, do you think I have the itch? I am an Englishwoman, I protest, I scorn the motion.  Wid. 
Nay prithee Princox be not angry, it's a sign of honesty I can tell you.  bold. 
Faith Madam I think t's but simple honesty that dwells at the sign of me scab.  Wid. 
Well, well, come to bed, and we'll talk further of all these matters.  Exit. bold. 
Fortune, I thank thee, I will owe thee eyes  
For this good turn, now is she mine indeed,  
Thou hast given me that success my project hoped  
Of, false disguise that hast been true to me,  
And now be Bold, that thou may'st welcome be.  Exit. Enter WHOORE-BANG, BOTS, TEARE-CHOPS, SPILL-BLOOD, and DRAWER: several patches on their faces. Tear. 
Dam-me, we will have more wine, sirrah, or we'll down into the Seller, and drown thee in a Butt of malmsey, and he wall the Hogsheads in pieces.  Whoore. 
Hang him rogue, shall he die as honourably as the Duke of Clarence; by this flesh let's have wine, or I will cut thy head off, have it roasted and eaten in Pie-corner next Bartholmew-tide.  Draw. 
Gentlemen, I beseech you consider where you are, Turne-bole's street, a civil place, do not disturb a number a poor Gentlewomen, Master Whoore-bang, Ms: Bots, Ma: Teare-chops, and Ma: Spillblood the Watch are abroad.  Spilb. 
The Watch? why you rogue, are not we Kings of Turne-bole's?  Draw. 
Yes marry are ye, Sir, for my part, if you'll be quiet, i'll have a sign made of ye, and it shall be called the four Kings of Turnbole.  Bots. 
Will you fetch us wine?  Whoore. 
And a whore (sirrah)  Draw. 
Why what d''ee think of me, am I an Infidel, a Turk, a Pagan, a Sarazen, I have been at Bess Turnip's, and she swears all the Gentlewomen went to see a Play at the Fortune, and are not come in yet, and she believes they sup with the Players.  Tear. 
damn, we must kill all those rogues, we shall never keep a whore honest for them.  Bots. 
Go your ways, sirrah, we'll have but a gallon a piece, and an ounce of Tobacco.  Draw. 
I beseech you, let it be but pottles.  Spilb. 
S'hart you rogue?  Exit. Draw. Enter WEL-TRI'D and fee-simple. Whoore. 
Master Well-tried, welcome as my soul.  Enter DRAWER with Wine, Plate, and Tobacco. Bots. 
Noble Lad, how dost thou?  Spilb. 
As welcome, as the Tobacco and the Wine Boy.  Tear. 
Damn thou art.  Fees. 
Bless me (save you Gent) They have not one face among 'em. I could wish myself well from them, I would I had put out something upon my return, I had as leave be at the Barmuthoes.  Welt. 
Pray welcome this Gentleman.  Spilb. 
Is he valiant?  Welt. 
Faith he's a little faulty that way: somewhat of a bashful and backward nature, yet I have brought him amongst you, because he hath a great desire to be fleshed.  Fees. 
Yes faith Sir, I have a great desire to be fleshed: now Mr. Well-tried said, he would bring me to the only flesh-mongers in the town.  Welt. 
Sir, he cannot endure the sight of steel.  Whor. 
Not steel? zounds.  Claps his Sword o'er the Table. Fees. 
Now I am going.  Bot. 
Here's to you sir, i'll fetch you again with a cup of sack.  Fees. 
I pledge you sir, and begin to you in a cup of Claret:  Welt. 
Hark you my Lo: what will you say, if I make you beat all these out of the room?  Fees. 
What will I say? why I say it is impossible, t's not is mortal man.  Welt. 
Well drink apace, if any brave you out brave him, I'll second you, they are a Company of cowards believe me.  Feesi. 
By this light I would they were else, if I thought so, I would be upon the jack of one of 'em instantly, that same little Dame me, but Mr. Well-tried if they be not very valiant or dare not fight! how come they by such Cuts and gashes, and such broken faces?  Wel. 
Why their whores strike 'em with Cans, and glasses, and quart pots, if they have nothing by 'em, they strike 'em with the Pox, and you know that will lay one's nose as flat as a basket hilt Dagger.  Fee. 
Well let me alone.  Tear. 
This bully dares not drink.  Fee. 
Dare I not Sir.  Welt. 
Well said, speak to him man.  Fee. 
You had best try me Sir.  Spilb. 
we four will drink four healths to four of the seven deadly sins, Pride, Drunkenness, wrath & Lechery.  Fee. 
I'll pledge 'em, and I thank you, I know 'em all, here's one.  Wh 
Which of the sins?  Fee. 
By my troth e'en to Pride.  Wel. 
Why well said, and in this do not you only pledge your Mistress health, but all the women's in the world.  Fee. 
So now, this little Cup to Wrath, because he and I are strangers.  Tear. 
Brave boy, Dame me he shall be a roarer.  Fee. 
Damn me, I will be a roarer, or't shall cost me a fall.  Botts. 
The next place that falls, pray let him have it.  Fee. 
Well, I have two of my healths to drink yet, Lechery and Drunkenness which e'en shall go together.  Welt. 
Why how now my Lord, a Moralist?  Botts. 
Damn me, art thou a Lo: what virtues hast thou?  Fee. 
virtues? enough to keep ere a Dame me Company in England, methinks you should think it virtue enough to be a Lord.  Whore. 
Will not you pledge these healths? we'll have no observers.  Welt 
Why, Monsieur Whore-bang? I am no play maker, and for pledging your healths, I love none of the four, you drank to so well.  Spilb. 
zounds you shall pledge me this.  Welt. 
Shall I?  Fee. 
What's the matter, dost hear Master Well-tried, use thine own discretion, if thou wilt not pledge him, say so? and let me see, if ere a Dame me of 'em all, will force thee.  Spilb. 
Puff, will your Lordship take any Tobacco? you Lord with the white face?  Botts. 
Heart he cannot put it through his nose.  Fee. 
Faith you have near a nose to put it through, d'ee heart blow your face sirrah.  Tear. 
You'll pledge me Sir?  Wilt. 
Indeed I will not.  Tear. 
Damn me he shall not then.  Tear. 
Lord, use your own words, Dame me is mine,  
I am known by it all the town o'er, d''ee hear?  Fee. 
It is as free for me as you, d''ee hear Patch?  Tear. 
I have paid more for't.  Welt. 
Nay I'll bear him witness in a truth, his soul lies for't my Lord.  Spilb. 
Well-tried, you are grown proud since you got good Clothes, and have followed your Lord.  Strikes, & they scuffle. Whoore. 
I have known you lousy, Well tried,  Welt. 
Rorer you lie.  Draw and fight, throw pots and stools. Dr. 
Oh jesu.  All Sw. 
zounds cleave or be cleft: pell-mell, slash arms and legs.  Fee. 
Heart let me alone with 'em.  Break off. Welt. 
Why now thou art a worthy wight, indeed a Lord a Lorne.  Fee 
I am a mad man, look is not that one of their heads?  Welt. 
Fie no my Lord.  Fee. 
Damn me but 'tis, I would not wish you to cross me a purpose, if you have any thing to say to me, so, I am ready.  Welt. 
Oh brave Lord, many a roarer thus is made by wine: come it is one of their heads my Lord.  Fee. 
Why so then, I will have my humour, if you love me, let's go break windows somewhere.  Welt. 
Drawer, take your plate, for the reckoning there's some of their cloaks: I will be no shot-log to such.  Draw. 
God's blessing o'your heart, for thus ridding the house of them.  Exeunt.  

Actus quarti Scaena prima.  Enter widow undressed, a sword in her hand, and BOULD in his shirt, as started from bed. Wid. 
Uncivil man, if I should take life life,  
It were not to be weighed with thy attempt:  
Thou hast for ever lost me.  bold. 
Madam, why?  
Can love beget loss? Do I covet you  
Unlawfully? Am I an unfit man.  
To make an husband of? Send for a Priest,  
First consummate the match, and then to bed  
Without more trouble.  Wid. 
No, I will not do't.  bold. 
Why you confessed to me as you're Gentlewoman,  
I was the man your heart did most affect:  
That you did dote upon my mind and body.  Wid. 
So, by the sacred and inviolate knot  
Of marriage, I do, but will not wed thee.  bold. 
Why yet enjoy me now. Consider Lady,  
That little, but blessed time, I was in bed,  
Although I lay as by my sister's side,  
The world is apt to censure otherwise:  
So 'tis necessity that we marry now.  Wid. 
Pish, I regard not (at a straw) the world:  
Fame from the tongues of men doth injury  
Oftener than justice: and as conscience  
Only makes guilty persons, not report:  
(For show we clear as springs unto the world,  
If our own knowledge do not make us so,  
That is no satisfaction to ourselves;)  
So stand we ne'er so leprous to men's eye,  
It cannot hurt heart-known integrity.  
You have trusted to that fond opinion,  
This is the way to have a widowhood,  
By getting to her bed: alas young man,  
Shouldst thou thyself tell thy companions  
Thou hadst dishonoured me (as you men have tongues  
Forked and venomed 'gainst our subject sex)  
It should not move me, that know 'tis not so:  
Therefore depart, Truth be my virtuous shield.  bold. 
Few widows would do thus.  Wid. 
All modest, would.  bold. 
To be in bed and in possession  
Even of the mark I aimed at, and go off  
Foiled and disgraced, come, come, you'll laugh at me  
Behind my back, publish I wanted spirit,  
And mock me to the Ladies, call me child,  
Say you denied me but to try the heat  
And zeal of my affection toward you,  
Then clapped up with a rime, as for example.  
He coldly loves, retires, for one vain trial,  
For we are yielding, when we make denial.  Wid. 
Servant I make no question, from this time  
You'll hold a more reverent opinion  
Of some that wear long coats, and 'tis my pride,  
To assure you that there are amongst us good:  
And with this continency, if you go away,  
I'll be so far from thinking it defect,  
That I will hold you worthiest of men.  bold. 
S'hart, I am Tantalus, my longed for fruit  
Bobs at my lips, yet still it shrinks from me.  
Have not I that, which men say never fails  
To o'ercome any? opportunity?  
Come, come, I am too cold in my assault.  
By all the virtues, that yet ever were  
In man, or woman, I with reverence  
Do love thee Lady, but will be no fool  
To let occasion slip, her foretop from me.  Wid. 
You will fail this way to, upon my knees  
I do desire thee to preserve thy virtues,  
And with my tears my honour; 'tis as bad  
To lose our worths to them, or to deceive  
Who have held worthy opinions of us,  
As to betray trust: all this I implore  
For thine own sake, not mine, as for myself,  
If thou be'st violent, by this stupid night,  
And all the mischiefs her dark womb hath bred,  
I'll raise the house, I'll cry a rape.  Bo. 
I hope you will not hang me, that were murder Lady,  
A greater sin, then lying with me sure.  Wid. 
Come, flatter not yourself with argument,  
I will exclaim; the law hangs you, not I,  
Or if I did, I had rather far confound  
The dearest body in the world to me,  
Then that, that body, should confound my soul.  bold. 
Your soul, alas Mistress, are you so fond  
To think her general destruction  
Can be procured by such a natural act,  
Which beasts are borne to and have privilege in?  
Fie, fie, if this could be, far happier  
Are sensitive souls in their creation  
Than man the prince of creatures, think you Heaven  
Regards such mortal deeds, or punisheth  
Those acts, for which he hath ordained us?  Wid. 
You argue like an Atheist, man is never  
The prince of creatures, as you call him now,  
But in his reason, fail that, he is worse  
Than Horse or Dog, or beasts of wilderness,  
And 'tis that reason teacheth us to do  
Our actions unlike them: then that which you  
Termed in them a privilege beyond us,  
The baseness of their being doth express,  
Compared to ours, Horses, Bulls, and Swine,  
Do leap their Dams, because man does not so,  
Shall we conclude his making happiless?  bold. 
You put me down, yet will not put me down,  
I am too gentle, some of you I have heard,  
Love not these words but force, to have it done  
As they sing pricksong, e'en at the first sight.  Wid. 
Go too, keep off, by Heaven and Earth, i'll call else.  bold 
How if nobody hear you?  Wid. 
If they do not,  
I'll kill you with mine own hand, never stare,  
Or failing that fall on this sword myself.  bold. 
Oh widow wonderful, if thou be'st not honest.  
Now God forgive my mother and my sisters.  
Think but how finely Madam undiscovered  
For ever you and I, might live all day your Gentlewoman  
To do you service, but all night your man  
To do you service, newness of the trick,  
If nothing else might stir ye.  Wid. 
'tis a stale one  
And was done in the Fleet ten years ago,  
Will you begone? the door is open for you.  bold. 
Let me but tarry till the morning Madam,  
To send for clothes, shall I go naked home.  Wid. 
'tis best time now, it is but one o'clock,  
And you may go unseen, I swear by Heaven,  
I would spend all the night to sit and talk w'ee,  
If I durst trust you, I do love you so,  
My blood forsakes my heart now you depart.  bold. 
S'hart, will you marry me hereafter then?  Wid. 
No, you are too young, and I am much too old;  
I and unworthy, and the world will say,  
We married not for love, good morrow servant.  Ex. Wid. bold. 
Why so? these women are the arrant'st jugglers in the World, the wry-legged fellow is an Ass to 'em. Well I Music .must have this widow, whate'er come on't: Faith she has turned me out of her service very barely, hark, what's here, music.  Enter Subtle with a paper, and his BOY with a cloak. Subt. 
Rise Lady Mistress, rise:  
The night hath tedious been,  
No sleep hath fallen into my eyes,  
Nor slumbers made me sin.  
Is not she a Saint then say,  
Thought of whom keeps sin away?  
Rise madam, rise and give me light,  
Whom darkness still will cover.  
And ignorance darker than night,  
Till thou smile on thy lover;  
All want day till thy beauty rise,  
For the grate morn breaks from thine eyes.  
Now sing it sirrah.  [The Song sung by the Boy. Subt. 
'Sfoot, who's this? young Master Bold? God save you, you are an early stirrer.  bold. 
You say true Master Subtle, I have been early up, but as God help me, I was never the near.  Subt. 
Where have you been Sir?  bold. 
What's that to you Sir? at a woman's labour.  Subt. 
Very good: I near took you for a man midwife before.  bold. 
The troth is, I have been up all night at dice, & lost my clothes, good morrow Master Subtle, pray God the Watch be broke up: I thank you for my Music:  Exit: Subt: 
'tis palpable by this air, her husband and being abroad, Bold has lain with her, and is now conveyed out of doors. Is this the Lady Perfect with a pox? The truth is, her virtuous chastity, began to make me make a miracle of her, still holding out to me, notwithstanding her husband's most barbarous usage of her, but now indeed 'tis no marvel since another possesses her. Well madam, I'll go find out your Cuckold, i'll be revenged on you and tell a tale Shall tickle him, this is a cheat in love, Not to be borne, another to beguile Me of the game, I played for all this while.  Exit. Enter WELTRI'D, and BOULD putting on his doublet, fee-simple on a bed, as in Bould's chamber. Welt. 
You see, we made bold with your lodging, indeed, I did assure myself, you were fast for this night.  Bo. 
But how the Devil came this fool in your company?  Welt. 
'Sfoot man, I carried him last night among the Roarers, to flesh him, and by this light he got drunk, and beat 'em all.  bold. 
Why then he can endure the sight of a drawn sword now?  Welt. 
Oh God Sir, I think in my conscience, he will eat steel shortly, I know not how his conversion will hold after this sleep, but in an hour or two (last night) he was grown such a little damn-me, that I protest, I was afraid of the spirit, that I myself had raised in him: but this other matter of your expulsion thus mads me to the heart; Were you in bed with her?  bold. 
In bed by Heaven.  Welt. 
I'll be hanged, if you were not busy to soon, you should have let her slept first.  bold. 
zounds man, she put her hands to my breasts and swore I was no maid, now I being eager to prove her words true, took that hint, and would violently have thrust her hand lower, when her thought being swifter than my strength, made her no sooner imagine that she was betrayed, but she leaps out of the bed, whips me down a sword that hung by, and as, if fortitude and justice had met to assist her, spite of all argument fair or foul she forced me away.  Welt. 
But is't possible thou shouldst have no more wit, wouldst thou come away upon any terms, but sure ones, having night, her chamber and herself naked in thine arms? By that light, if I had a son of 14 whom I had help 't thus far, that had served me so, I would breech him.  bold. 
S'hart, what would you have me done?  Welt. 
Have done? done, done twice at least.  bold. 
Have played Tarquin and ravished her.  Welt. 
Pish, Tarquin was a blockhead, if he had had any wit and could have spoke, Lucrece had never been ravished, she would have yielded, I warrant thee, & so will any woman  bold. 
I was such an erroneous heretic to love, and women, as thou art, till now.  Welt. 
God's precious, it makes me mad, when I think on't: was there ever such an absurd trick? now will she abuse thee horribly, say thou art a fainthearted fellow, a milksop and I know not what, as indeed thou art.  bold. 
zounds, would you had been in my place.  Welt. 
zounds, I would I had, I would have so jumbled her honesty: wouldst thou be held out at staves end with words? dost not thou know a widow's a weak vessel, and is easily cast if you close.  bold. 
Well-tried, you deal unfriendly.  Welt. 
By this light I shall blush to be seen in thy company.  bold. 
Pray leave my chamber.  Welt. 
Pox upon your chamber,  
I care not for your chamber, nor yourself  
More than you care for me.  Bo. 
'Sblood I as little for you.  Welt. 
Why fare you well.  Bo. 
Why, farewell you. Well-tried, I prithee stay,  
Thou know'st I love thee.  Welt. 
S'hart, I love you as well; but for my spleen, or choler I think, I have as much as you.  Bo. 
Well friend, this is the business you must do for me,  
Repair unto the widow, where give out,  
Tomorrow morn, I shall be married,  
Invite her to the wedding, I have a trick,  
To put upon this Lord to, whom I made  
My instrument to prefer me.  Welt. 
What shall follow,  
I will not ask, because I mean to see't.  
The jars twixt friends, still keeps their friendship sweet.  Ex. Feesi. 
Why Well-tried, you rogue, what's that a vision?  bold. 
Why how now my Lord? who do you call rogue? the Gentleman you name is my friend, if you were wise I should be angry.  Feesi. 
Angry with me? why dam me Sir, and you be;  
Cut with your sword, it is not with me I tell you  
As it was yesterday, I am fleshed man, I.  
Have you any thing to say to me?  bold. 
Nothing but this, how many do you think, you have slain last night?  Feesi. 
Why five, I never kill less.  bold. 
There was but four: my Lord, you had best provide yourself and begone, three you have slain stark dead.  Feesi. 
You jest.  bold. 
'tis most true, Well-tried is fled.  Feesi. 
Why let the Roarers meddle with me another time, as for flying, I scorn it, I killed 'em like a man; when did you ever see a Lord hang for any thing? we may kill whom we list, marry my conscience pricks me; ah plague a this drink, what things it makes us do, I do no more remember this now than a puppy-dog.  
Oh bloody Lord that art bedaubed with gore,  
Vain world adieu, for I will roar no more.  bold 
Nay stay my Lord, I did but try the tenderness of your conscience, all this is nothing so, but to sweeten the tale (I have for you) I foretold you this feigned mischance.  Feesi. 
Is it a tale belonging to the Widow?  bold. 
I think you are a witch.  Feesi. 
My grandmother was suspected.  bold. 
The Widow has desired you by me to meet her tomorrow morning at Church in some unknown disguise, lest any suspect it, for quoth she,  
Long hath he held me fast in his moist hand,  
Therefore I will be his in nuptial band.  Feesi. 
Bold, I have ever taken you to be my friend, I am very wise now, and valiant, if this be not true, damn-me Sir, you are the son of a whore, and you lie, and I will make it good with my sword.  bold. 
I am, whate'er you please Sir, If it be not true, I will go with you to the Church myself, your disguise I have thought on; the Widow is your own. Come, leave your fooling.  Feesi. 
If this be true, thou little Boy,  Cant. bold. 
So true, as thou tell'st to me,  
Tomorrow morn when I have the Widow,  
My dear friend shalt thou be.  Exeunt. Enter MAID like the footboy: seldom with a couple of sergeant, PITS, DONNER. Maid. 
Sir, 'tis most true and in this shall you be  
unlike to other Citizens that arrest  
To undo Gentlemen: your clemency here  
perchance saves two lives, one from the other's sword,  
The other from the Laws; this morn they fight,  
And though your debtor be a Lord, yet should he  
Miscarry, certainly your debt were lost.  Seld. 
Dost thou serve the Lord Proudly?  Maid. 
Sir, I do.  Seld. 
Well, such a Boy as thou, is worth more money  
Than thy Lord owes me, 'tis not for the debt  
I do arrest him, but to end this strife,  
Which both may lose my money and his life.  Enter Lord PROVDLY with a riding rod. Pr. 
My Horse there, zounds I would not for the world  
He should alight before me in the field,  
My name and honor were for ever lost.  Seld. 
Good morrow to your Honour, I do hear  
Your Lordship this fair morning is to fight,  
And for your honour: Did you never see  
The Play, where the fat Knight hight Oldcastle,  
Did tell you truly what this honour was?  Pr. 
Why, how now good man flatcap, what d''ee lack?  
Who do you talk to, sirrah?  1. Serg. 
We arrest you.  Pr. 
Arrest me, rogue? I am a Lord ye curs, a Parliament man.  2. Serg. 
Sir, we arrest you though.  Pr. 
At whose suit?  Seld. 
At mine, Sir.  Pr. 
Why thou base rogue, did not I set thee up,  
Having no stock, but thy fair shop and wise?  Seld. 
Into my house with him.  Maid. 
Away with him, away with him.  Pr. 
A plot, a trick by Heaven. See Ingens footboy, 'tis by his Master's means, oh coward, slave; i'll put in bail, or pay the debt.  Sel. 
ay, ay, ay, we'll talk with you within— thrust him in.  Ex. Enter INGEN looking on his sword and bending it, his brother like a Man. Ing. 
If I miscarry Frank, I prithee see  
All my debts paid, about five hundred pounds  
Will fully satisfy all men, and my land  
And what I else possess, by nature's right  
And thy descent, Frank, I make freely thine.  Broth. 
I know, you do not think I wish you dead  
For all the benefit: beside, your spirit  
So opposite to counsel, to avert  
Your resolution, that I save my breath,  
Which would be lost in vain, to expire and spend  
Upon your foe, if you fall under him.  Ing. 
Frank, I protest you shall do injury  
Unto my foe, and much disturbance to  
Unto my soul departing, die I here  
Fairly, and on my single enemy's sword,  
If you should not let him go off untouched.  
Now by the Master of thy life and mine,  
I love thee Boy, beyond any example,  
As well as thou dost me, but should I go  
Thy second to the field, as thou dost mine,  
And if thine enemy killed thee like a man,  
I would desire, never to see him more,  
But he should bear himself off with those wounds  
He had received from thee, for that time safe,  
And without persecution by the Law,  
For what hap is our foes, might be our own,  
And no man's judgement, sits in justice place,  
But weighing other men's as his own case.  Broth. 
He has the advantage of you being a Lord,  
For should you kill him, you are sure to die,  
And by some Lawyer with a golden tongue,  
That cries for right, ten angels on his side;  
Your daring meet him, called presumption:  
But kill he you, he, and his noble friends  
Have such a golden snaffle for the jaws  
Of man, devouring Pythagorean Law,  
they'll rain her stubborn chaps, e'en to her tail?  
And though she have iron teeth to meaner men,  
So master her, that who displeased her most,  
She shall lie under like a tired jade,  
For small boats on rough seas are quickly lost,  
But ships ride safe, and cut what by they list.  Ing. 
Follow what may, I am resolved dear Brother,  
This monster valour, that doth feed on men,  
Groans in me for my reputation.  
This charge I give thee to, If I do die,  
Never to part from the young Boy, which late  
I entertained, but love him for my sake:  
And for my Mistress the Lady Honour,  
Whom to deceive, I have deceived myself.  
If she be dead, pray God I may give up  
My life a sacrifice on her, brother's sword;  
But if thou liv'st to see her gentle brother,  
If I be slain, tell her I died because  
I had transgressed against her worthy love.  
This sword is not well mounted, let's see thine.  Enter MAID like a footboy. Maid. 
Your staying Sir, is in vain, for my Lord Proudly,  
Just at his taking horse to meet you here,  
At Seldome's suit the Citizen, was arrested  
Upon an action of two hundred pounds,  
I saw it Sir, 'tis true.  Ing. 
Oh, scurvy Lord,  
It had been a cleanlier shift than this to have had  
It hindered by command, he being a Lord,  
But I will find him.  Enter Lord PROVDLY. Proud. 
You see, valiant Sir, I have got loose  Pro. stabs his sister. 
For all your stratagem, oh rogue are you there.  Ing. 
Most ignoble Lord.  Ingen stabs Proud. in the left arm. Proud. 
Coward thou didst this  
That I might be disabled for the fight,  
Or that thou mightst have some excuse to shun me,  
But 'tis my left arm, thou hast lighted on.  
I have no second; here are three of you,  
If all do murder me, your consciences  
Will more than hang you, damn you; come prepare.  In. 
Brother walk off, & take the boy away, is he hurt much?  Bro. 
Nothing or very little.  Fr. thrusts the Boy out. Ing. 
I'll bind your wound up first, your loss of blood May sooner make you faint.  Pr. 
Ingen, thou art a worthy Gentleman, for this courtesy,  
Go-to i'll save thy life, come on Sir: hay,  a pass or two. 
I'll cut your codpiece point Sir, with this thrust,  
And then down goes your breeches.  Ing. 
Your Lordship's merry  pass. 
I had like to have spoiled your cutwork band.  Enter MAID like a footboy running, BROTHER after him, Maid kneels betwixt 'em. Maid. 
Oh Master, hold your hand, my Lord hold yours,  
Or let your swords meet in this wretched breast,  
Yet you are both well, what blood you have lost  
Give it as for the injury you did, and now be friends,  Pr. 
S'hart, 'tis a loving rogue.  Ing. 
Kind Boy, stand up, 'tis for thy wound he bleeds,  
My wrong is yet unsatisfied.  Pr. 
Hence away it is a sister's loss, that whets my sword.  Mai. 
Oh stay, my Lord, behold your sister here  discovers herself. 
Bleeding by your hand Servant see your mistress  
Turned to thy servant running by thy Horse,  
Whose means it was to have prevented this, but all in vain.  Broth. 
Oh noble Lady.  Ing. 
Most worthy pattern of all women kind.  Proud. 
Ingen, I am satisfied, put up your sword.  
Sister, you must with me, I have a husband  
The Lord Fee-simple's father, old, but rich:  
This Gentleman is no match for you; kneel not,  
That portion of yours, I have consumed,  
Thus marrying, you shall never come to want.  Maid. 
Oh I sweet my Lord, my brother do not force me,  
To break my faith or to a loathed bed.  Ing. 
Force you, he shall not, brother bear her hence,  
She is my wife, and thou shalt find my cause  
Ten times improved now.  Pr. 
Oh, have at you Sir.  Ma. 
Hold, hold for heavens sake, was e'er wretched Lady  
Put to this hazard? Sir, let me speak  
But one word with him, and I'll go with you,  
And undergo, whatever you command.  Proud. 
Do't quickly, for I love no whispering,  
'tis strange to see you madam with a sword,  
You should have come hither in your lady's clothes.  Maid. 
Well, as you please my Lord, you are witness, whatsoe'er before  
Hath passed betwixt us: thus I do undo.  
Were not I mad to think thou couldst love me  
That wouldst have slain my Brother?  Pr. 
sayst true sister.  Ing. 
Oh thou fair creature! wilt thou be as false as other Ladies?  Maid. 
Thou art my example,  
I'll kiss thee once, farewell for ever, come my Lord, now  
Match me, with whom you please, a tumbler.  
I must do this, else had they fought again.  Pr. 
Mine own best Sister, farewell Mr. Ingen.  Ex. Pr. & Ma. Broth. 
Oh ancient truth to be denied of no man,  
An Eel byth' tail's held surer than a woman.  Exeunt.  

Actus quintus.  Enter Subtle with HUSBAND. Subt. 
She is not to be cast.  Hus. 
It cannot be: had you a wife, and I were in your  
case.  Husb. 
I would be hanged even at the chamber door  
Where I attempted, but i'll lay her flat.  Subt. 
Why tell me truly, would it please you best,  
To have her remain chaste, or conquered.  Husb. 
Oh friend it would do me good at the heart  
To have her over come, she does so brag  
And stand upon her chastity forsooth.  Subt. 
Why then in plain terms Sir, the fort is mine,  
Your wife has yielded, up-tails is her song,  
The deed is done, come, now, be merry man.  Husb. 
Is the deed done indeed? come, come, you jest,  
Has my wife yielded? is uptails her song?  
Faith come, in prose, how got you to the matter first, ha.  
Pish, you are so bashful now.  Subt. 
Why, by my troth i'll tell you, because you are my friend, otherwise you must note it is a great hurt to the art of whore-mastery to discover, besides the skill was never mine o'th' price.  Husb. 
Very good, on sir.  Subt. 
At the first she was horrible stiff against me, than  
Sir I took her by the hand, which I kissed.  Husb. 
Good Sir.  Subt. 
And I called her pretty Rogue, and I thrust my finger betwixt her breasts, and I made lips; at last, I pulled her by the chin to me, and I kissed her.  Husb. 
Hum, very good.  Subt. 
So at the first, she kissed very strangely, close, & untoward; then said I to her, think but upon the wrongs, the intolerable wrongs, the rogue your Husband does you.  Hus. 
I that was very good, what said she to you then sir?  Subt. 
Nay, I went on. First quoth I, think how he hath used you, left you no means, given all your clothes to his Punks, struck you, turned your grey eyes into black ones, but yet—  Husb. 
A pretty conceit.  Subt. 
Quoth I, these things are nothing in the rascal, think but what a base Whoremaster, the rascal is.  Husb. 
Did you call me rascal so often are you sure.  Subt. 
Yes, and oftener, for said I, none comes amiss to the rogue, I have known him quoth I, do three lousy beggars under hedges in the riding of ten mile, and I swore this to.  Hus. 
'twas very well, but you did lie. On I pray.  Sub. 
Pish, one must lie a little, now sir by this time she began to kiss some what more openly, and familiarly, her resistance began to slacken, and my assault began to stiffen, the more her Bulwark decayed, the more my battery fortified, at last sir, a little fumbling being passed to make the Conquest more difficult, she perceiving my readiness mounted, falls me flat upon her back, cries me out aloud  
alas I yield, use me not roughly friend,  
My fort, that like Troy town, ten years hath stood  
Besieged and shot at did remain unwon:  
But now 'tis conquered. So the deed was done,  Hus. 
Then came the hottest service. Forward with your tale sir.  Sub. 
Nay Caetera, quis neset, lassi requienimus ambo:  
Proveniant medii sic mihi sape dies.  Hus. 
Which is as much to say: I am a Cuckold, in all Languages, but sure 'tis not so, It is impossible my wife should yield.  Sub. 
Heyday, e'en now, it was impossible she should hold out, and now it is impossible she should yield, stay you but here & be an ear witness to what follows, I'll fetch your wife. I know he will not stay.  Exit. Hus. 
Good faith Sir but he will. I do suspect some knavery in this.  Exit. 
Here will I hide myself, when thought as gone,  
If they do aught unfitting I will call  
Witness, and straight way sue a divorce.  Enter WIFE and SUBTLE. Sub. 
I knew he would not stay. Now noble Mistress,  
I claim your promise.  Wife. 
What was that good servant  Sub. 
That you would lie with me.  Wife. 
If with any man,  
But prithee first consider with thyself  
If I should yield to thee, what a load thy Conscience  
Would bear about it, for I wish quick thunder  
May strike me, If I yet have lost the truth,  
Or whiteness of the hand I gave in Church,  
And 'twill not be, thy happiness (as thou thinkst)  
That thou alone shouldst make a woman fall,  
That did resist all else, but to thy soul  
A bitter corrosive, that thou didst stain,  
Virtue that else had stood immaculate,  
Nor speak I this, as yielding unto thee,  
For 'tis not in thy power, wert thou the sweetest  
Of nature's Children, and the happiest,  
To conquer me, nor in mine own to yield,  
And thus it is with every pious wife.  
Thy daily railing at my absent Husband  
Makes me endure thee worse, for let him do  
The most preposterous ill relishing things  
To me, they seem good, since my Husband does 'em,  
Nor am I to revenge or govern him,  
And thus it should be with all virtuous Wives.  Sub. 
Pox a this virtue and this chastity,  
Do you know fair Mistress, a young Gentleman  
About this town called Bold, where did he lie  
Last night, sweet Mistress, oh oh, are you catched,  
I saw him slip out of the house this morn,  
As naked as this truth, and for this cause  
I have told your Husband that you yielded to me,  
And he I warrant you, will blaze it thoroughly,  
As good do now then as be thought to do.  Wife. 
No, 'twill not be yet, thou injurious man,  
How wilt thou right me in my husband's thoughts,  
That on a false surmise, and spite haste told,  
A tale to breed uncurable discontent?  
Bold was that old wench that did serve the Widow,  
and thinking by this way to gain her love  
Missed of his purpose, and was thus cashiered,  
Nor cares she to proclaim it to the world.  Su. 
zounds, I have wronged you Mistress. On my knees  kneels 
I ask you pardon, and will never more,  
Attempt your purity, but neglect all things  
Till that soul wrong I have bred in your Knight  
I have expelled, and let your loves aright.  Hus. 
Which now is done already madam wife,  kneels 
Upon my knees, with weeping eyes, heaved hands,  
I ask thy pardon, oh sweet virtuous creature,  
I prithee break my head.  Wife. 
Rise, rise, Sir pray:  
You have done no wrong to me, at least I think so;  
Heaven hath prevented all my injury,  
I do forgive and marry you a new.  
Come, we are all invited to the weddings,  
The Lady Honour to the old rich Count.  
Young Bold unto another Gentlewoman,  
We and the Widow are invited thither,  
Embrace and love, henceforth more really,  
Not so like worldlings.  Husb. 
Here then ends all strife  
Thus false friends are made true, by a true wife.  Exeunt.  

Actus quinti Scaena prima.  Enter old Count wrapped in furs, the Lady HONOUR dressed like a Bride, the Lord PROVD. WEL-TRI'D, BOULD, leading fee-simple like a Lady masked, HUSBAND, WIFE, Subtle with a letter, widow, to them BROTHER, SELDOM, and his wife. Broth. 
HEalth and all joy unto this fair assembly,  
My brother, who last tide is gone for France,  
A branch of willow feathering his hat,  
bade me salute you Lady, and present you  
With this same letter written in his blood,  
He prays no man, for his sake evermore  
To credit woman, nor no Lady ever  
To believe man, so either sex shall rest  
Uninjured by the other, this is all, and this I have delivered.  Pr. 
I and well, you pronounce rarely did you never play?  Broth. 
Yes, that I have, the fool, as some Lords do.  Wel. 
Set forward there.  Count. 
Oh, oh, oh, a pox a this cold.  Welt. 
A cold a this pox you might say, I am afraid.  Maid. 
How full of ghastly wounds this letter shows, oh, oh.  swoons. Pr. 
Look to my sister.  Bou. 
S'hart the Lady swoons.  Wife. 
Strong-water there.  Feesi. 
If strong breath would recover her, I am for her.  Co. 
alas good Lady, hum, hum, hum. coughs perpetually  Subt. 
He has fet her again with coughing.  Maid. 
Convey me to my bed send for a Priest  
And a Physician, your Bride I fear,  
In stead of Epithalamions shall need  
A Dirge, or Epitaph, oh lead me in,  
My body dies for my soul's perjured sin.  Exit Maid, Grace, Wife, Husb. Subtle. bold 
Hymen comes towards us in a mourning rob.  Welt. 
I hope friend, we shall have the better day.  Proud. 
I'll fetch the Parson and Physician  Ex. Lo. Pr. Broth. 
They are both ready for you.  Exit. Broth. Welt. 
Madam, this is the Gentlewoman.  
Who something bashful does desire your pardon, that she  
Does not unmask.  Wid. 
Good Master Well-tried, I would not buy her face, and for her manners if they were worse, they shall not displease me.  Welt. 
I thank your Ladyship.  Feesi. 
Look, how the old Ass my father stands, he looks like the Bear in the play, he has killed the Lady with his very sight as God help me, I have the most to do to forbear unmasking me, that I might tell him his own, as can be.  bold. 
Fie, by no means.  
The Widow comes towards you.  Count. 
Oh, oh, oh, oh.  Wid. 
Servant, God give you joy, and Gentlewoman,  
Or Lady as full joy, I wish to you,  
Nor doubt that I will hinder you, your love,  
But here am come to do all courtesy  
To your fair self, and husband that shall be.  Feesi. 
I thank you heartily.  Welt. 
S'hart, speak smaller man.  Feesi. 
I thank you heartily.  Coun. 
You're going to this gear to Mr. Bold, umh, umh, umh.  bold. 
Not to your couching gear my Lord, though I be not so old, or rich as your Lordship, yet I love a young wench as well.  Welt. 
As well, as my Lord, nay by my faith, that you do not, love a young wench as well as he, I wonder you will be unmannerly to say so.  Count 
Faith Master Well-tried, troth is I love them well, but they love not me, umh, umh, umh, you see, what ill luck, I have with them, ump, ump, ump, a pox a this cold still say I.  Welt. 
Where got you this cold my Lord? it can get in nowhere that I can see, but at your nostrils, or eyes, all the other parts are so barricadoed with fur.  Feesi. 
It got in at his eyes, and made that bird-lime there where Cupid's wings do hang entangled.  Count. 
Is this your wife, that (umh, umh, umh) shall be, Ma. Bold, i'll be so bold as kiss her.  [Wid. bold whisper aside. Count. sits in a chair and falls asleep. Feesi. 
Sir, forbear, I have one bold enough to kiss my lips, oh old coxcomb, kiss thine own natural son, 'tis worse than a justices lying with his own daughter, but Mr. Well-tried when will the Widow break this matter to me?  Welt. 
Not till the very close of all, she dissembles it yet, because my Lord your Father is here, and her other suitor Bold.  Feesi. 
That's all one, he's o'th' plot a my side:  Wid. 
'tis needless Master Bold, but I will do  
Any thing you require to satisfy you,  
Why should you doubt, I will forbid the banes,  
For so your friend, here told me? I should rather  
Doubt that you will not marry.  Bo. 
Madam by heaven, as fully I am resolved to marry now,  
And will to, if you do not hinder it,  
As ever lover was, only because  
The World has taken notice of some passage  
Twixt you and me, and then to satisfy  
My sweet heart here, who poor soul is a feared,  
To have some public disgrace put upon her,  
I do require some small thing at your hands.  Wid. 
Well, I will do it and this profess beside,  
Married, you shall as welcome be to me  
As mine own brother, and yourself fair Lady,  
Even as myself, both to my board, and bed.  Wel. 
Ah, ah, how like you that?  Feesi. 
Now she begins, abundant thanks unto your widowhood.  
zounds my Fathers asleep on's wedding day,  
I wondered where his cough was all this while.  Enter INGEN like a Doctor: A PARSON, BROTHER, PROVDLY, seldom, MRIS. SELD. HUSBAND, WIFE, and Subtle. Ingen. 
I pray forbear the chamber, noise does hurt her.  
Her sickness I guess rather of the mind  
Than of her body, for her pulse beats well,  
Her vital functions not decayed a whit,  
But have their natural life and operation.  
My Lord, be cheered, I have an ingredient about me,  
Shall make her well I doubt not.  
In Master Parson, it shall be yours I pray,  
The soul's Physician should have still the way.  [Exit Ingen, Parson shuts the door. Wid. 
How cheers she pray?  Wife. 
In troth exceeding ill.  Ms. Seld. 
A very weak woman indeed she is, and surely  
I think cannot scape it.  Husb. 
Did you mark how she eyed the Physician?  Wife. 
Oh God I, she is very loath to die.  Ms. Seld. 
I that's ne'er the better sign, I can tell you.  Subt. 
And when the Parson came to her, she turned away,  
And still let the Physician hold her by the hand.  Proud. 
But see what thought the Bridegroom takes, my conscience knows now, this is a most preposterous match, yet for the commodity, we wink at all inconveniency. My Lord, my Lord.  Count. 
ump, ump, ump, I beshrew you for waking of me, now shall I have such a fit of coughing, hum, hum—  bold. 
Oh hapless wife, that shall have thee, that either must let thee sleep continually, or be kept waking herself by the cough.  Widow 
You have a proper Gentleman to your son, my  
Lord, he were fitter for this young Lady than you.  Welt. 
D''ee mark that again?  Feesi. 
Oh sweet widow.  Count. 
He a wife, he a fools head of his own.  Feesi. 
No, of my Fathers.  Count. 
What should he do with a ump, ump?  Wife. 
What with a cough? why he would spit, and that's more than you can do.  Proud. 
Your bride my Lord is dead.  Count. 
Marry, e'en God be with her, grief will not help it, ump, ump, ump.  Broth. 
A most excellent spouse.  Pr. 
How fares she Mr. Doctor. 'zounds, what's here  looks in at the window 
Bold, Widow, Well-tried, fee-simple, heyday.  
Husband, Wife, Seldom, Ms. Seld. Subtle: how now?  Feesi. 
Look, look, the Parson joins the doctor's hand & hers; now the Do. kisses her by this light.  [omnes whoop. Feesi. 
Now goes his gown off, heyday, he has read breeches on: zounds, the Physician is got Pistols for Bro. o'th' top of her, be like it is the mother she has, hark the bed creaks.  Pr. 
S'hart, the doors fast, break 'em open, we are betrayed.  Bro. 
No breaking open doors, he that stirs first  draws & holds out a pistol. 
I'll pop a leaden pill into his guts.  
Shall purge him quite away, no haste good friends,  
When they have done (what's fit) you shall not need  
To break the door, they'll open it themselves.  A curtain drawn, a bed discovered, Ingen with his sword in his hand, and a Pistol, the Lady in a petticoat, the Parson. Pr. 
Thy blood base villain shall answer this  the Bro. set back to back 
I'll die thy nuptial bed in thy heart's gore.  Ing. 
Come, come, my Lord, 'tis not so easily done,  
You know it is not. For this my attempt  
Upon your sister, before God and man  
She was my wife, and ne'er a bedrid gout  
Shall have my wench, to get diseases on.  Pr. 
Well may'st thou term her so that has consented,  
Even with her will to be dishonoured.  Ing. 
Not so, yet have I lain with her.  Ma. 
But first (witness this Priest) we both were married,  Priest. 
True it is Domine.  
Their contract's run into a marriage,  
And that my Lord into a carriage.  Pr. 
I will undo thee Priest.  Priest. 
'Tis too late,  
I'm undone already, wine and Tobacco, I defy thee  
Thou temporal Lord, pardie thou never shalt  
Keep me in jail, and hence springs my reason,  
My act is neither Felony nor Treason.  Fee. 
ay sir, but you do not know, what kindred she may have.  Omnes. 
Come, come, there is no remedy.  Wife. 
And weight right in my opinion my honoured Lord,  
And everybody's else, this is a match,  
Fitter ten thousand times, than your intent.  Omnes. 
Most certain 'tis.  Wid. 
Besides, this Gentleman your brother in law well parted, and fair meant, and all this come about (you must conceive) by your own sister's wit as well as his.  Ing. 
Come, come, 'tis but getting of me knighted my  
Lord, and I shall become your Brother well enough.  Pr. 
Brother your hand, Lords may have projects still,  
But there's a greater Lord, will have his will.  Bo. 
This is dispatched. Now Madam is the time,  
For I long to be at it, your hand sweet heart.  Feesi. 
Now, boys.  Wid. 
My Lord, and Gentlemen, I crave your witness  
To what I now shall utter. 'Twixt this Gentleman  
There has been some love passages and myself,  
Which here I free him, and take this Lady.  Welt. 
la ye, and take this Lady.  Wid. 
Which with a mother's love, I give to him,  
And wish all joy may crown their marriage.  bold. 
Nay madam, yet she is not satisfied.  
Bold gives her a ring, and she puts it on her thumb.  Wid. 
Further, before ye all I take this ring  
As an assumpsit, by the virtue of which  
I bind myself in all my lands and goods,  
That in his choice, i'll be no hindrance:  
Or by forbidding banes, or claiming him  
myself for mine, but let the match go on  
Without my check, which he intendeth now.  
And once again I say, I bind myself.  Bo. 
Then once again, I say, widow thou'rt mine:  
Priest marry us, this match I did intend,  
Ye are all witnesses, if thou hinder it,  
Widow your lands and goods are forfeit mine.  Wid. 
Ha, nay take me to, since there's no remedy,  
Your Widow (without goods) sells scurvily.  Omnes. 
Whoop, God give you joy.  Count. 
'Slight, I am cozened of all sides, I had good hope of the Widow myself, but now I see everybody leaves me saving 'em, umh, umh.  Bo. 
'Troth my Lord, & that will stick by you I warrant.  Wid. 
But how Sir, shall we salve this Gentlewoman?  Bo. 
Hang her whore.  Welt. 
Fie, you are too uncivil.  Feesi. 
Whore in thy face, I do defy thy taunts.  Bo. 
Nay hold fair Lady, now I think upon't.  
The old Count has no wife, let's make a match.  Omnes. 
If he be so contented.  Count. 
With all my heart.  Bo. 
Then kiss your Spouse.  Count. 
'Sfoot she has a beard: how now, my son?  Omnes. 
'tis the Lord fee-simple.  [Feesi unmasks. Feesi. 
Father, lend me your sword, you and I are made a couple of fine fools, are we not? If I were not valiant now, and meant to beat 'em all, here would lie a simple disgrace upon us, a fee-simple one indeed, mark now what i'll say to 'em, d''ee hear my Masters, damn, ye are all the son of a whore, and ye lie, and I will make it good with my sword, this is called Roaring Father.  Subt. 
I'll not meddle with you Sir.  Pr. 
You are my blood.  Welt. 
And I fleshed you, you know.  Bo. 
And I have a charge coming, I must not fight now.  Feesi. 
Has either of you any thing to say to me?  Husb. 
Not we Sir.  Feesi. 
Then have I something to say to you. Have you any thing to say to me?  Broth. 
Yes marry have I Sir.  Feesi. 
Then I have nothing to say to you, for that's the fashion, Father if you will come away with your cough, do? Let me see how many challenges must I get writ: You shall here on me believe it.  Proud. 
Nay, we'll not now part angry, stay the Feasts  
That must attend the weddings, you shall stay.  Feesi. 
Why, then all friends, I thought you would not have had the manners to bid us stay dinner neither.  Husb. 
Then all are friends, and Lady, wife, I crown  
Thy virtues with this wreath, that 'tmay be said,  
There's a good wife.  They set Garlands on their heads. Bo. 
A Widow.  Ing. 
And a Maid.  Wife. 
Yet mine is now approved the happiest life,  
Since each of you hath changed to be a wife.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.