A Woman is Weathercock. A New Comedy, As it was acted before the King in Whitehall. And divers times Privately at the White-Friers, By the Children of her majesties Revels.  
Written by NAT: FIELD.  
Si natura negat faciat Indagnatio versum.  
Printed at London, for john Budge, and are to be sold at the great South door of Paul's, and at Britain's burse. 1612.   

Dramatis personae.  

Count Frederick.  
Sir john Worldly.  
Nevill.  
Scudmore.  
Strange.  
Pendant.  
Captain Powts.  
Sir Innocent ninny  
Sir Abraham Ninny  
Bellafront.  
Katherine.  
Lucida.  
Lady ninny.  
Mistress Wagtail.  
A Priest.  
A Page.  
servants.    

To any Woman that hath been no Weather Cock.  
I Did determine, not to have Dedicated my Play to anybody, because forty shillings I care not for, and above, few or none will bestow on these matters, especially falling from so fameless a pen as mine is yet. And now I look up, and find to whom my Dedication is, I fear I am as good as my determination: notwithstanding I leave a liberty to any Lady or woman, that dares say she hath been no weathercock, to assume the Title of Patroness to this my Book. If she have been constant, and be so, all I will expect from her for my pains, is, that she will continue so, but till my next Play be printed, wherein she shall see what amends I have made to her, and all the sex, and so I end my Epistle, without a Latin sentence.  
N. F.   

To the Reader  
REader, the Sale-man swears, you'll take it very ill, if I say not somewhat to you too, Introth you are a stranger to me; why should I Write to you? you never writ to me, nor I think will not answer my Epistle. I send a Comedy to you here, as good as I could then make; nor sleight my presentation, because it is a play: For I tell thee Reader, if thou be'st ignorant, a Play is not so idle a thing as thou art, but a Mirror of men's Lives and actions now, be it perfect or imperfect, true or false, is the Vice or Virtue of the Maker. This is yet, as well, as I can, Qualeis ego vel Clwienus, Thou must needs have some other Language than thy Mother rung, for thou thinkst it impossible for me to write a Play that did not use a word of Latin, though he had enough in him. I have been vexed with vile plays myself, a great while, hearing many, now I thought to be even with some, and they should hear mine too. Fare thee well, if thou hast any thing to say to me, thou know'st where to hear of me for a year or two, and no more I assure thee.  
N. F.   

To his Loved Son, Nat. Field, and his Weathercock Woman.  
TO many forms, as well as many ways,  
Thy Active Muse, turns like thy Acted woman:  
In which, dispraised inconstancy, turns praise;  
Th' Addition being, and grace of Homer's Seaman,  
In this life's rough Seas tossed, yet still the same:  
So turns thy wit, Inconstancy to stay,  
And stay t' Inconstancy: And as swift Fame  
Grows as she goes, in Fame so thrive thy Play,  
And thus to standing, turn thy woman's fall,  
Wit turned to every thing, proves stay in all.  George Chapman.  

A Woman's a Weathercock.  

Actus primus,  

scen. prima.  Enter Scudmore, as in his Chamber in a morning, half ready, reading a Letter. Sc. Legit. 
WHereas you write, my fortunes and my birth  
Made above yours, may be a real cause  
That I must leave you, know thou worthiest man,  
Thou hast a soul, whose plenteous wealth supplies  
All the lean wants blind Chance hath dealt to thee.  
Yet could I think, the Gods from all their store,  
Who ne'er knew indigence unto their will,  
Would (out of all their stock of Virtue left,  
Or out of all new graces they can make)  
Make such another piece as Scudmore is,  
Then might he justly fear; but otherwise,  
Sooner the Masculine Element of Fire,  
Shall flame his Pyramids down to the Earth;  
Sooner her Mountains shall swell up to Heaven;  
Or softest April showers quench fires in Hell;  
Sooner shall Stars from this Circumference,  
Drop like false fiery exhalation,  
Than I be false to vows made unto thee;  
In whom, ought ne'er a fault: I ne'er could see,  
But that you doubted once my constancy.  Yours through the world, and to the end of Time. Bellafront. Scud. Loqui, ve raptus. 
If (what I feel) I could express in words,  
Methinks I could speak joy enough to men,  
To banish sadness from all love, forever:  
Oh thou that reconcil'st the faults of all  
That frothy sex, and in thy single self  
Confin'st, nay haste engrossed Virtue enough  
To frame a spacious world of virtuous women;  
Hadst thou been the Beginning of thy sex.  
I think the Devil in the serpent's skin,  
Had wanted Cunning to o'ercome thy goodness,  
And all had lived and died in Innocency  
The white Original Creation. Knocks within.  
whose's there? Come in.  Enter Nevill. Ne. 
What, up already Scudmore, near a Wench with thee? Not thy Laundress?  Scud. 
Good-morrow my dear Nevill.  Ne. 
What's this? A Letter; Sure it is not so,  
A Letter written to Hieronimo!  Scud. 
By Heaven you must excuse me; Come, I know  
You will not wrong my friendship and your manners to tempt me so.  Ne. 
Not for the world my friend,  
Farewell, Good-morrow. Exiturus.  Scud. 
Nay Sir, Neither must you  
Depart in anger from this friendly hand:  
I swear, I love you better than all men,  
Equally with all Virtue in the world:  
Yet this would be a Key to lead you to  
A prize of that importance.  Ne. 
Worthy friend,  
I leave you not in anger: What d'ye mean?  
Nor am I of that inquisitive Nature framed,  
To thirst to know your private businesses:  
Why, they concern not me; If they be ill  
And dangerous, 'twould grieve me much to know 'em.  
If good; they be so, though I know 'em not:  
Nor would I do your love so gross a wrong,  
To Covet, to participate affairs  
Of that near touch, which your assured love  
Doth think not fit, or dares not trust me with.  Scud. 
How sweetly does your friendship play with mine,  
And with a simple subtlety, steals my heart  
Out of my bosom. By the holiest Love  
That ever made a Story, you're a man  
With all good so replete, that I durst trust you  
Even with this secret, were it singly mine.  Ne. 
I do believe you, farewell worthy friend.  Scud. 
Nay look you, this same fashion does not please me,  
You were not wont to make your visitation.  
So short and careless.  Ne. 
'tis your jealousy  
That makes you think it so, for by my soul  
You have given me no distaste, in keeping from me  
All things that might be burdenous, and oppress me.  
In troth I am invited to a wedding,  
And the Morn faster goes away from me,  
Than I go toward it: and so Good-morrow.  Scud. 
Good-morrow Sir, think I durst show it you.  Ne. 
Now by my life I not desire it Sir,  
Nor ever loved these prying listening men,  
That ask of other states and passages,  
Not one among a hundred but proves false,  
Envious and slanderous, and will cut that throat  
He twines his arms about, I love that Poet  
That gave us reading, not to seek ourselves  
Beyond ourselves, Farewell.  Scud. 
You shall not go,  
I cannot now redeem the fault I have made  
To such a friend, but in disclosing all.  Ne. 
Now if you love me, do not wrong me so,  
I see you labour with some serious thing,  
And think (like Fairies Treasure) to reveal it,  
Will cause it vanish; and yet to conceal it  
Will burst your breast, 'tis so delicious,  
And so much greater than the Continent.  Sc. 
Oh you have pierced my entrails with your words.  
And I must now explain all to your eyes,  
Read, and be happy in my happiness.  Ne. 
Yet think on't, keep thy secret, and thy friend  
Sure and entire; Oh! give not me the means  
To become false hereafter; or thyself  
A probable reason to distrust thy friend,  
Though he be near so true, I will not see't.  Scud. 
I die by Heaven, if you deny again,  
I starve for Counsel; take it, look upon it;  
If you do not, It is an equal plague,  
As if it had been known and published:  
For Godsake read, but with this Caution,  
By this right hand, by this yet unstained sword,  
Were you my father flowing in these waves,  
Or a dear son exhausted out of them,  
Should you betray this soul of all my hopes,  
Like the two brethren (though love made 'em Stars)  
We must be never more seen both again.  Ne. 
I read it fearless of the forfeiture,  
Yet warn you, be as Cautelous, not to wound  
My integrity, with doubt, on likelihoods,  
From misreport, but first exquire the Truth.  Legit. Ne. Scud. aliquando respiciens. Scud. 
Read, whilst I tell the story of my love,  
And sound the Truth of her heroic Spirit,  
Whom eloquence could never flatter yet,  
Nor the best tongue of praises reach unto.  
The Maid there named, I met once on a Green  
Near to her Father's house, methought she showed,  
For I did look on her, indeed no eye  
That owed a sensible member, but must dwell  
Awhile on such an object.  
The passing Horses, and the feeding Kine  
Stood still, and left their journeys and their food,  
The singing Birds were in contention  
Which should light nearest her; for her clear eyes  
Deceived even men, they were so like bright skies.  
near in a Rivulet, swum two beauteous Swans,  
Whiter than any thing, but her neck and hands,  
Which they left straight to comfort her: A Bull  
Being baiting on the Green for the Swains sport,  
She walking toward it, the vexed savage beast  
Ceased bellowing; the snarling Dogs were mute,  
And had enough to do to look on her,  
Whose face brought Concord, and an end of jars,  
Though Nature made 'em ever to have wars.  
Had there been Bears and lions, when she spoke  
They had been charmed too: For Grecians Lute  
Was rustic Music to her heavenly tongue,  
Whose sweetness e'en cast slumbers on mine eyes,  
Soft as Content, yet would not let me sleep.  Ne. 
Yours through the world, & to the end of time. Bellafront.  
Which, Bellafront Rich, Sir john Worldly's Daughter?  Scud. 
She is the food, the sleep, the air I live by.  Ne. 
Oh heaven! we speak like Gods, and do like Dogs.  Scud. 
Whar means my  Ne. 
This day, this Bellafront the Rich Heir,  
Is married unto Count Frederick,  
And that's the wedding I was going to.  Scud. 
I prithee do not mock me, Married?  Ne. 
It is no matter to be played withal,  
But even as true as women all are false.  Scud. 
Oh! that this stroke were Thunder to my breast,  
For Nevill thou hast spoke my heart in twain,  
And with the sudden whirlwind of thy breath,  
Hast ravished me out of a temperate soil,  
And set me under the red burning Zone.  Ne. 
For shame return thy blood into thy face,  
Know'st not how flight a thing a woman is?  Scud. 
Yes, and how serious too: Come I'll t'the Temple,  
She shall not damn herself for want of Counsel.  Ne. 
Oh! prithee run not thus into the streets,  
Come dress you better, so: Ah! as thy clothes  
Are like thy mind, too much disordered.  
How strangely is this Tide turned? For a world  
I would not but have called here, as I went.  
Collect thy Spirits, we will use all means  
To check this black fate, flying toward thee; Come,  
If thou miscarriest, 'tis my day of doom.  Scud. 
Yes, now I'm fine, Married? It may be so,  
But women look to't, for if she prove untrue,  
The Devil take you all, that are his due.  Enter Count Frederick, a tailor trussing him, attended by a Page. Cou. 
Is Sir john Wordly up, Boy?  Boy 
No my Lord.  Cou. 
Is my Bride up yet.  Boy 
No.  Cou. 
No, and the Morn so fair.  Enter Pendant. Pen. 
Good morrow my thrice honoured & heroic Lord.  Boy. 
Good morrow your Lord and Master you might say, for brevity sake.  Cou. 
Thou'st a good tailor, and art very fine.  Pen. 
I thank your Lordship.  Boy 
I you may thank his Lordship indeed.  Pen. 
fore-god this Doublet sits in print my Lord.  
And the Hose excellent; the piccadill rare.  Boy 
he'll praise himself in trust with my Lord's tailor,  
For the next S. George's suit.  Cou. 
Oh, Good-morrow Tailor, I abhor bills in a Morning.  Pen. 
Your Honour says true; their Knavery will be discerned by daylight,  
But thou mayst watch at night with bill in hand,  
And no man dares find fault with it.  Tay. 
A good jest Efaith, Good-morrow to your Lordship, a very good jest. Exit Taylor.  Cou. 
I wonder my invited guests are so tardy, What's o'clock.  Pen. 
Scarce seven my Lord.  Cou. 
And what news Pendant?  
What think'st thou of my present marriage?  
How shows the Beauty to thee I shall wed?  Pen. 
Why to all women, like Diana among her nymphs.  Boy 
There's all his reading.  Pen. 
A beauty of that pureness and delight,  
That none is worthy of her but my Lord,  
My Honourable Lord.  Cou. 
But then her fortune  
Matched with her beauty, makers her up a match.  Pen. 
By Heaven unmatchable, for none fit but Lords,  
And yet for no Lord fit, but my good Lord.  Cou. 
And that her Sister then should love me to,  
Is it not strange?  Pen. 
Strange: No, not strange at all,  
By Cupid, there's no woman in the world  
But must needs love you, dote, go mad for you;  
If you vouchsafe reflection; 'tis a thing  
That does it home: thus much reflection  
Catches 'em up by Dozens, like wild foul.  Boy 
Now ye shall taste the means by which he eats.  Pen. 
Nature herself having made you, fell sick  
In love with her own work, and can no more  
Make man so lovely, being diseased with love.  
You are the world's Minion, of a little man;  
I'll say no more, I would not be a woman,  
For all has been got by them.  Cou. 
Why man, why?  Pen. 
Heart, I should follow you like a young rank whore,  
That runs proud for her love, pluck you by th' sleeve,  
Who ere were with you, in the open street,  
With the impudence of a drunken Oyster-wife,  
Put on my fighting waistcoat, and the Ruff  
That fears no tearing, batter down the windows  
Where I suspected you might lie all night,  
Scratch faces, like a wildcat of Pickt-hatch.  Cou. 
Pendant thou'lt make me dote upon myself,  Pen. 
Narcissus by this hand, had far less cause.  Cou. 
How know'st thou that?  Boy. 
They were all one my Lord.  Pen. 
How do I know, I speak my Conscience.  
His beauties were but shadows to my Lord,  
Why Boy his presence would enkindle sin,  
And longing thoughts in a devoted Nun:  
Oh foot, Oh Leg, oh Hand, oh body, face,  
By jove it is a little man of wax.  Cou. 
thouart a rare Rascal; 'tis not for nothing  
That men call thee my Commendations.  Boy. 
For nothing, no, he would be loath it should.  Enter Captain Poutes. Cou. 
Good Morrow, and good welcome Captain Powts.  Cap. 
Good Morrow to your honour, and all joy  
Spring from this match, and the first year a Boy,  
I commend these two verses a purpose, to salute your Honour.  Cou. 
But how haps it Captain, that your intended marriage with my Father in Laws third daughter, is not solemnized today.  Pen. 
My Lord tells you true Captain, it would have saved meat.  
Faith I know not, Mistress Kate likes me not, she says I speak as if I had a pudding in my mouth, and I answered her, If I had it was a white pudding, and then I was the better armed for a woman; for I had a case about me, so one laughed, and the other cried fie: the third said I was a Bawdy Captain, and there was all I could get of them.  Cou. 
See Boy, if they be up yet, Maids are long liars I perceive.  Boy. 
How if they will not admit me my Lord:  Cou. 
Why should not they admit you my Lord, you cannot Commit with 'em my Lord.  Boy 
Marry therefore my Lord. Exit Boy.  Cou. 
But what should be the reason of her sudden alteration, she listened to thee once: Ha,  Pen. 
Have you not heard my Lord, or d'ye not know.  Cou. 
Not I, I swear.  Pen. 
Then you know nothing that is worth the knowing.  Cap. 
That's certain, he knows you.  Pen. 
There's a young Merchant, a late Suitor, that deals by wholesale, and Heir to Land, well descended, of worthy education, beholding to Nature.  Cou. 
Oh, 'tis young Strange.  Cap. 
be't he that looks like an Italian Tailor? Out of the laced wheel, that wears a Bucket on's head?  Cou. 
That is the man, yet believe me Captains, it is a noble sprightly Citizen.  Cap. 
Has he money?  Cou. 
Infinitely wealthy.  Cap. 
Then Captain thou art cast, would I had gone for Cleveland; worldly loves money better than I love his Daughter,  
I'll to some Company in Garrison, God bye.  Cou. 
Nay, ye shall dedicate this day to me,  
We speak but by the way man, near despair;  
I can assure you, she's yet as free as Air.  Pen. 
And you may kill the Merchant with a look,  
I'd threaten him to death: my honoured Lord  
Shall be your friend, go too, I say he shall,  
You shall have his good word, shall he my Lord?  Cou. 
'sfoot, he shall have my bond to do him good.  Pen. 
la, 'tis the worthiest Lord in Christendom:  
Oh Captain, for some fourscore brave Spirits, once  
To follow such a Lord in some attempt.  Cap. 
A hundred Sir were better.  Enter old Sir Innocent ninny, my Lady ninny, Sir Abraham, and Mistress Wagtayle. Cou. 
here's more Guess.  Cap. 
Is that Man and Wife?  Pen. 
It is Sir Innocent Ninne, that's his Lady,  
And that M. Abraham their only son.  Count discoursing with In: La: Abra: looking about. Cap. 
But did that little, old, dried neat's tongue, that eel-skin get him.  Pen. 
So 'tis said Captain.  Cap. 
Methinks, he in his Lady, should show like a Needle in a Bottle of Hay.  Pen. 
One may see by her Nose, what Pottage she loves.  Cap. 
Is your name Abraham; Pray who dwells in your Mother's backside, at the sign of the Aquavitae bottle.  Pen. 
God's precious: Save you Mistress Wagtail.  Wag. 
Sweet M. Pendant. pulls her by the sleeve.  S. Abr. 
Gentlemen, I desire your better acquaintance, you must pardon my Father, he's somewhat rude, rude, & my Mother grossly brought up, as you may perceive.  Cou. 
Young M. Abraham, cry ye mercy Sir.  Abra. 
Your Lordship's poor friend, & Sir Abra: Ninny  
The Dubadub of Honour, piping hot,  
Doth lie upon my worship's shoulder blade.  Inno. 
Indeed my Lord, with much cost and labour, we have got him Knighted; and being Knighted, under favour my Lord, let me tell ye, he'll prove a sore Knight as ere run at Ring. He is the one and only ninny of our house.  La. Nin. 
He has cost us something ere he came to his: Hold up your head Sir Abraham.  Abra. 
Pish, pish, pish, pish.  Cou. 
d'ye hear how.  Pen. 
Oh, my Lord.  Cap. 
I had well hoped she could not have spoke, she is so fat.  Cou. 
Long mayst thou wear thy Knights-hood, & thy spurs  
Prick thee to Honour on, and prick off Curs.  Abra. 
Sir Abraham thanks your Honour; and I hope, your Lordship will consider the simplicity of Parents, a couple of old fools my Lord, and I pray so take 'em.  Om. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Abra. 
I must be feign to excuse you here, you'll needs be coming abroad with me; if I had no more wit than you now we should be finely laughed at.  Inno. 
by’r lady his worship says well wise, we'll trouble him no longer; with your honours leave, I'll in and see my old friend Sir john, your Father that shall be.  La. Nin. 
I'll in to, and see if your Bride need no dressing.  Exit Inno. Cou. 
'sfoot as much as a Triple I think, haste them I pray. Captain, what think'st thou of such a woman in a long Sea Voyage, where there were a dearth of Victuals?  Cap. 
Venison my Lord, Venison.  Pen. 
i'faith my Lord, such Venison as a Bear is.  Cap. 
Heart, she looks like a black Bumbard, with a pint pot waiting upon it. Exeunt Lady Wag.  Cou. 
What Countrymen, were your Ancestors S. Abra.  Abra. 
Countrymen, they were no Countrymen, I scorn it, they were Gentlemen all, My Father is a ninny, and my Mother was a Hammer.  Cap. 
You should be a Knocker then by the Mother's side.  Abra. 
I pray my Lord, what is yond Gent. he looks so like a Sarazen, that as I am a Christian I cannot endure him.  Cou. 
Take heed what you say Sir, he's a Soldier.  Pen. 
If you cross him, he'll blow you up with Gunpowder  Abra. 
In good faith, he looks as if he had had a hand in the treason, I'll take my leave.  Cou. 
Nay good Sir Abraham, you shall not leave us.  Pen. 
My Lord shall be your warrant.  Abra. 
My Lord shall be my warrant: Troth I do not see that a lord's warrant is better than any other man's, unless it be to lay one by the heels. I shall stay here, and ha' my head broke; and then I ha' my mends in my own hands, and then my Lords warrant will help me to a plaster, that's all.  Count. 
Come, come, Captain, pray shake the hand of acquaintance with this Gentleman, he is in bodily fear of you.  Cap. 
Sir, I use not to bite any man.  Abra. 
Indeed Sir, that would show you are no Gentleman, I would you would bid me be covered: I am a knight, I was Knighted a purpose to come a-wooing to Mistress Lucida, the middle Sister, Sir john Worldly's second daughter; and she said she would have me, if I could make her a Lady, and I can do't now; Oh here she comes.  Enter Sir john Worldly, Master Strange, Kate, and Lucida, with a Willow Garland. Cou. 
My Bride will never be ready I think: here are the other Sisters.  Pen. 
Look you my Lord; There's Lucida wears the Willow Garland, for you; and will so go to Church I hear: and look you Captain, that's the Merchant.  Abra. 
Now doth the pot of Love boil in my bosom; Cupid doth blow the fire; and I cannot Rhyme to bosom, but I'll go reason with her.  Wor. 
You'll make her jointure of that five hundred you say, that is your inheritance, M. Strange?  Stra. 
Sir I will.  World. 
Kate, you do love him?  Kate. 
Yes faith Father, with all my heart.  World. 
Take hands, kiss him, her portion is four thousand. Good-morrow my son Count, you stay long for your Bride; but this is the day that sells her, and she must come forth like my Daughter, and your Wife.  
I pray salute this Gentleman as your Brother,  
This morn shall make him so; and though his habit  
But speak him Citizen, I know his worth  
To be gentile in all parts. Captain,  Cap. 
Sir.  World. 
Captain, I could have been contented well You should have married Kate.  Kate. 
So could not Kate.  World. 
You have an honourable Title; a Soldier is a very honourable Title: A Captain is a Commander of Soldiers; But look you Captain, Captains have no money, therefore the Worldlies must not match with Captains.  Cap. 
So Sir, so.  World. 
There are brave wars.  Cap. 
Where?  World. 
Find them out brave Captain,  
Win honour, and get money by that time;  
I'll get a Daughter for my Noble Captain.  Cap. 
Good Sir, good.  World. 
Honour is Honour, but it is no money, Aspiciens  
This is the Tumbler then must catch the Coney. Strange.  Cap. 
Thou'rt an old fellow: Are you a Merchant Sir?  Stra. 
I shame not to say yes? Are you a Soldier Sir?  Abra. 
A Soldier Sir; Oh God I, he is a Captain.  Stra. 
He may be so, and yet no Soldier Sir: For as many are Soldiers, that are no Captains; so many are Captains that are no Soldiers.  Cap. 
Right Sir: and as many are Citizens that are no Cuckolds.  Stra. 
So, many are Cuckolds, that are no Citizens.  
What ail you Sir, with your robustious looks?  Cap. 
I would be glad to see for my money, I have paid for my standing.  Stra. 
You are the Nobler Captain Sir:  
For I know many that usurp that name,  
Whose standings pay for them.  Cap. 
You are a peddler.  Stra. 
You are a Potgun.  Cap. 
Merchant, I would thou hadst an Iron Tale Like me.  Cou. 
Fie Captain, you are too blame.  Pen. 
Nay, Gods will, you are too blame indeed, if my Lord say so.  Cap. 
My lord's an Ass, and you are another.  Abra. 
Sweet Mistress Luce; let you and I withdraw, this is his humour.  
Send for the Constable.  Cap. 
Sirrah, I'll beat you with a pudding on the change.  Stra. 
Thou dar'st as well kiss the wide mouthed Canon  
At his discharging, or perform as much  
As thou dar'st speak: For Soldier you shall know,  
Some can use swords, that wear 'em not for show.  Kate 
Why Captain, though ye be a man of war, you cannot subdue affection; you have no alacrity in your eye, and you speak as if you were in a Dream, you are of so melancholy and dull a disposition, that on my Conscience you would never get Children; Nay nor on my body neither: and what a sin were it in me, and a most pregnant sign of Concupiscence, to marry a man that wants the metal of Generation; since that is the blessing ordained for Marriage, procreation the only end of it. Besides, if I could love you; I shall be here at home, and you in Cleveland abroad; I among the bold Britons, and you among the hot shots.  World. 
No more puffing good Captain; leave batteries with your breath, the short is this:  
This worthy Count, this Morning makes my Son;  
And with that happy Marriage this proceeds:  
Worldly's my Name, Wordly must be my deeds.  Cap. 
I will pray for Civil wars, to cut thy throat without danger Merchant,  
I will turn pirate, but I'll be revenged on thee.  Stran. 
Do Captain do, a halter will take up our quarrel then.  Cap. 
zounds, I will be revenged upon ye all.  
The strange adventure thouart now to make  
In that small Pinnace, is more perilous  
Than any hazard thou couldst undergo,  
Remember a scorned Soldier told thee so.  Exit Captain. Stran. 
Go walk the Captain good sir Abraham.  Abra. 
Good faith Sir, I had rather walk your horse, I will not meddle with him, I would not keep him Company in his drink for a world.  World. 
But what good do you Sir Abraham on my daughter,  
I could be e'en content, my Lucida  
Would skip your wit, and look upon your wealth,  
And this one day let Hymen Crown ye all.  Abra. 
Oh no, she laughs at me; and scorns my suit  
For she is wilder, and more hard withal,  
Then Beast, or Bird, or Tree, or stony wall.  Kate 
Ha, Godamercy old Hieronimo.  Abra. 
Yet might she love me for my lovely eyes:  Count. 
ay but perhaps your nose she doth despise.  Abra. 
Yet might she love me for my dimpled chin:  Pend: 
ay but she sees your Beard is very thin.  Abra. 
Yet might she love me for my proper body:  Stran. 
ay, but she thinks you are an arrant Noddy.  Abra. 
Yet might she love me, cause I am an heir:  World. 
ay, but perhaps she does not like your ware.  Abra. 
Yet might she love me in despite of all:  Luce. 
ay, but indeed I cannot love at all.  World. 
Well Luce, respect Sir Abraham I charge you.  Luce. 
Father, my vow is past: whilst the Earl lives  
I near will Marry, nor will pine for him:  
It is not him I love now, but my humour.  
But since my Sister he hath made his choice,  
This wreath of Willow that begirts my brows,  
Shall never leave to be my Ornament  
Till he be dead, or I be married to him.  Pen. 
Life my Lord, you had best marry 'em all three, They'll never be content else.  Count. 
I think so to.  World. 
These are impossibilities; Come, Sit Abram. A little time will wear out this rash vow.  Abra. 
Shall I but hope?  Luce 
Oh, by no means. I cannot endure these round Breeches, I am ready to sound at 'em.  Kate 
The Hose are comely.  Luce. 
And then his left Leg: I never see it, but I think on a Plum-tree.  Abra. 
Indeed there's reason there should be some difference in my Legs, for one cost me twenty pound more than the other.  Luce. 
Introth both are not worth half the money.  Count. 
I hold my life one of them was broke, and cost so much the healing.  Abr. 
Right hath your Lordship said, 'twas broke indeed, At football in the University.  Pen. 
I know he is in love, by his Verse vain.  Stra. 
He cannot hold out on't: you shall hear.  Abra. 
Well since I am disdained; off Garters blue;  
Which signifies Sir Abraham's love was true.  
Off Cypress black, for thou befits not me;  
Thou art not Cypress, of the Cypress Tree,  
Befitting Lovers: Out green Shoestrings out,  
Wither in pocket, since my Luce doth pout:  
Gush eyes, thump hand, swell heart, Buttons fly open,  
Thanks gentle Doublet; else my heart had broken.  
Now to thy Father's Country house at Babram,  
Ride post; There pine and die, poor, poor Sir Abram.  Omnes 
Oh doleful dump.  Music plays. World. 
Nay you shall stay the wedding, Hark the Music, Your Bride is ready.  Cou. 
Put Spirit in your Fingers; louder still,  
And the vast Air with your enchantments fill. Exeunt Om.    

Actus secundus.  

Scen prima.  Enter Nevill like a Parson. 
THus for my friend's sake have I taken orders,  
And with my reasons and some hire beside:  
Won the known Priest, that was to Celebrate  
This Marriage, to let me assume his place:  
And here's the Character of his face and beard.  
By this means, when my friend confronts the Maid,  
At the Church door (where I appointed him  
To meet him, like myself: for this strange shape  
He altogether is unwitting of)  
If she (as one Vice in that sex alone  
Were a great Virtue) to inconstancy past,  
join impudence, and sleight him to his face,  
Showing a resolution to this match.  
By this attempt it will be frustrate;  
And so we have more time though but till night,  
To work to speak with her, or use violence,  
(For both my blood and means are at his service.)  
The reason too, I do this past his knowledge,  
Is that his joy may be the more complete;  
When being resolved she's married and gone,  
I can resolve him otherwise: Thus I know,  
Good deeds show double, that are timely done,  
And joy that comes past expectation.  Enter Scudmore in Tawny. 
Yonder he comes, dead in his melancholy:  
I'll question him, and see if I can raise  
His Spirit from that, it restless rests upon:  
He cannot know me. Ho, Good-morrow Sir.  Scud. 
Good-morrow to no living thing but one,  
And that is Nevill: Oh, the Vows, the Vows,  
The protestations and becoming Oaths  
Which she has uttered to me, so sweet, so many,  
As if she had been covetous, not to leave  
One word for other Lovers, which I pitied.  
She said indeed I did deserve 'em all;  
Her lips made swearings sound of piety.  
So sweet and prettily they came from her:  
And yet this Morn she's married to a Lord.  
Lord, Lord, how often has she kissed this hand,  
Lost herself in my eyes, played with my have,  
And made me (a sin I am not, subject too)  
Go away proved, improved by her favours,  
And yet this Morn she's married to a Lord.  
The Bells were ringing as I came along.  Neu. 
Yes Sir, 'tis for the great Marriage twixt  Scud. 
Pray hold there, I know it too well.  
The Tokens and the Letters I have still:  
The dangers I have passed for her dear sake,  
By day and night to satisfy her wishes;  
That Letter I so lately did receive,  
And yet this Morn she's married to a Lord:  
Oh memory, thou blessing to all men,  
Thou art my curse and cause of misery,  
That tell'st me what I have been in her eyes,  
and what I am: as it is impossible  
To find one good in the whole word of women:  
But how I lose myself, and the remembrance  
Of my dear friend, who said he would meet me here.  
What is this Priest that walks before the Church?  
Why walk you here so early, Sir?  Neu. 
I am appointed,  
Here to attend the coming of the Brides,  
Old Sir john Worldly's Daughters.  Scud. 
Are there two?  Ne. 
Yes Sir, the eldest marries Count Frederick.  Scud. 
Oh..  Neu. 
The middlemost wears willow for his sake,  
The youngest marries the rich Merchant Strange.  Scud. 
He is right worthy, and my well known friend.  
But Parson, if you marry Bellafront,  
The horror of thy Conscience shall exceed  
A Murderers; Thou shalt not walk alone,  
Nor eat, nor sleep, but a sad lovers groans  
and curses, shall appear and fright thy soul:  
I tell thee Priest, they're sights, more terrible  
Than Ghosts or Sprights, of which old wives tell Tales,  
Thou shalt run mad, thou shalt be damned indeed.  Neu. 
Now God forfend, the reason Sir I pray?  Scud. 
She is contracted Sir, nay married  
Unto another man, though it want form:  
And such strange passages and mutual Vows,  
'twould make your short hair start through your black  
Cap, should you but hear it.  Neu. 
Sir, I'll take no notice  
Of things, I do not know the injured Gentleman,  
May bring 'em after into the Spiritual Court,  
and have a fair pull on't, a poor Gentleman,  
(For so I take him by his being deceived)  
'gainst a great Count, and an old wealthy Knight.  Scud. 
Thou Pancridge Parson; Oh, for my friend Nevil,  
Some wile or other might remove this Priest,  
and give up breathing to cross their intent.  Neu. 
Alas my dear friend.  Scud. 
Sir, do but you refuse To join 'em.  Neu. 
Upon what acquaintance Sir?  
They are great persons, and I mean to rise,  
I hope in time to have three livings man,  
and this were not the way I take it Sir.  Scud. 
Why look thee, there is Gold.  Neu. 
Oh by no means.  Scud. 
I seldom knew't refused, yet by thy Coat;  
But where it would have been a cause of good.  Ne. 
But look ye, you shall see I'm a Divine,  
Of Conscience quite opposite to a Lawyer,  
I'll give you Counsel Sir without a fee:  
This way they are to come, if you dare do't,  
Challenge her as your own, at the Church door,  
I will not hinder you. Music plays.  Scud. 
Oh hark they come,  
Nevill my friend, well I must something do:  
Oh, why should Music, which joys every part,  
Strike such sharp killing discords to my heart?  Music. Enter Sir john Worldly, who meets the Parson, & entertains him. Count, Bellafront, Strange, Kath. Lucida, with Willow. Pendant, Sir Inno: ninny, my Lady ninny, Mrs. Wagtayle, S. Abram Melancholy. W.P. walk gravely afore all softly on. Scudmore stands before, and a Boy sings to the tuned Music. 

The Song.  
THey that for Worldly wealth do wed,  
That buy and sell the Marriage bed:  
That come not warmed with the true fire,  
Resolved to keep this Vow entire.  
To soon find discontent,  
To soon shall they repent.  
But Hymen these are no such Lovers,  
Which thy burning Torch discovers:  
Though they live then many a year,  
Let each day as new appear  
As this first; and delights  
Make of all Bridal Nights:  
Io: Hymen give Consent,  
Blessed are the Marriages that near repent.   Count. 
How now, who's this?  Pen. 
Young Scudmore.  Om. 
'tis young Scudmore.  Scud. 
Canst thou this holy Church enter a Bride,  
And not a corpse meeting these eyes of mine.  Bella. 
Yes, by my troth, what are your eyes to me,  
But grey ones, as they are to everybody,  
The Gentleman I do a little know:  
he's frantic sure, forward a God's name there.  Luce. 
Sister, this is not well, and will be worse.  Scud. 
Oh hold thy Thunder fast.  Count 
What is the matter?  Pen. 
I'll ask my Lord: What is the matter Sir.  World 
Some idle words my Lord, 'tmay be have passed  
Twixt Scudmore, and my Daughter heretofore,  
And he has dreamt 'em things of consequence.  Pen. 
Pish, nothing else; set forward.  Neu. 
By your leave.  Scud. 
Can there be such a soul in such a shape.  
My Love is subject of such misery,  
Such strange impossibilities and misfortune,  
That men will laugh at me, when I relate  
The story of it, and conceive I lie.  
Why Madam that shall be, Lady in Posse, do Titles,  
Honours, and Fortunes, make you so forgetful?  Bell. 
You are insolent, nay strangely saucy Sir,  
To wrong me in this public fashion.  World. 
Sirrah, go too, there's Law.  Scud. 
There is indeed,  
And Conscience too, old Worldly thou hast one;  
But for the other, wild Virginia,  
Black Afric, or the shaggy Scythia,  
Must send it over as a Merchandise,  
Ere thou show any here.  Pen. 
My honoured Lord,  
Say but the word, I'll force him from the doors.  Count. 
I say the word, do it.  Scud. 
You my Lords fine fool?  Abra. 
I he Sir.  Scud. 
No, nor you my Lord fools fool.  Nin. 
Ware Boy, come back.  Lady. 
Come back I say Sir Abraham. Intrant Templum  Stra. 
'tis such a forward child.  Scud. 
My passion and my cause of grief's so great,  
That it hath drowned all worthy parts in me:  
As drink makes Virtues useless in a man,  
And with too much, kills natural heat in him,  
Or else I could not stand thus coldly tame,  
and see them enter; but with my drawn sword  
Should hail her by the hair unto the Altar,  
and Sacrifice her heart to wronged love.  Kate. 
On my life 'tis so.  Stra. 
Worthy friend, I am exceeding sorry to see this,  
But cannot help it.  Scud. 
I'll follow, and unfold all in the Church:  
Alas, to what end, since her mind is changed,  
Had she been loyal, all the earthly Lords  
Could not have borne her; so, what heinous sin  
Hath she committed, God should leave her then:  
I never dreamed of lying with my Mother,  
Nor wished my Father's death, nor hated Brothers;  
Nor did betray Trust, nor loved money better  
Than an accepted friend; No such base thought,  
Nor act unnatural, possessed this breast:  
Why am I thus rewarded women, women?  
he's mad by Heaven, that thinks you any thing  
But sensual Monsters, and is never wife  
Nor good, but when he hates you, as I now,  
I'll not come near one, none of your base sex  
Shall know me from this time, for all your Virtues  
are like the Buzzes, growing in the fields,  
So Weakly fastened te'e, by Nature's hand,  
That thus much wind blows all away at once,  
Ye fillers of the world with Bastardy,  
Worse than Diseases you are subject too,  
Know I do hate you all, will write against you,  
and fight against you; I will eat no meat  
Dressed by a woman old or young, nor sleep  
Upon a bed, made by their still given hands;  
Yet once more must I see this Feminine Devil,  
When I will look her dead, speak her to hell;  
I'll watch my time, this day to do't, and then  
I'll be in love with death, and readier still Cornets.  
His mortal stroke to take, than he to kill. Exit Scud.  Loud Music. Enter as from the Church, Worldly, Nevill like the Parson, Count, Bellafront, Strange, Katherine, Sir Inno: ninny, Lady ninny, Sir Abra: Lucida, Wagtaile, Pendant, Poutes meets 'em. Count. 
Sweet is the love purchased with difficulty.  Bell. 
Then this Cross accident doth relish ours.  Stra. 
I rather think ours happier my fair Kate,  
Where all is smooth, and no rub checks our course.  Ent. Captain. Cap. 
Are ye married?  Count. 
Yes.  Cap. 
The Devil dance at your wedding: but for you I have something else to say, let me see, here are reasonable store of people, know all my beloved Brethren, (I speak it in the face of the Congregation) this woman I have lain with oftener.  Om. 
How?  La: Nin. 
Before God, you are a wicked fellow to speak on't in this manner, if you have.  Stra. 
lain with her.  Cap. 
Yes, Good-morrow, God give ye joy. Exit.  World. 
I am speechless with my anger, follow him,  
If it be true, let her be proved a Whore;  
If false, he shall abide the slander dearly.  Abra. 
Follow that list, I will not meddle with him.  World. 
Why speak'st thou not, to reconcile those looks  
That fight stern battles in thy husband's face.  Kate. 
Thou art not so unworthy to believe him,  
If I did think thou didst, I would not open  
My lips, to satisfy so base a thought,  
Sprung from the slander of so base a Slave.  Stra. 
It cannot be, I'll tell you by tomorrow;  
I am no Fool Kate. I will find some time  
To talk with this same Captain, Pouts d'ye call him,  
I'll lie wi'ye tonight.  Kate. 
Sir you shall not:  
What stain my Honour hath received by this  
Base Villain, all the world takes notice of,  
Mark what I Vow, and if I keep it not,  
May I be so given o'er, to let this Rogue  
Perform his slander; Thou that wert ordained,  
And in thy Cradle marked to call me wife,  
And in that Title made as my defence,  
Yet suffered'st him to go away with life,  
Wounding my Honour dead before thy face.  
Redeem it on his head, and his own way,  
Even by the sword his long profession,  
And bring it on thy neck out of the field:  
and set it clear amidst the tongues of men,  
That all eyes may discern it slandered,  
Or thou shalt near enjoy me as a wife:  
By this bright Sun thou shalt not; Nay I'll think  
As abjectly of thee, as any mongrel  
Bred in the City; Such a Citizen  
as the Plays flout still, and is made the subject  
Of all the stages. Be this true or no,  
'tis thy best course to fight.  World. 
Why Kate I say.  Kate. 
Pray pardon me, none feels the smart but I,  
'tis thy best course to fight, if thou be'st still,  
and like an honest Tradesman eatest this wrong:  
Oh, may thy Spirit and thy state so fall,  
Thy first borne child may come to the Hospital.  Stra. 
Heaven I desire thee hear her last request,  
and grant it to, if I do slack the first;  
By thy assured innocency I swear,  
Thou hast lost me half the Honour I shall win,  
In speaking my intent, Come let's to dinner.  Kate 
I must not eat nor sleep, weep till't be done.  Bell. 
Sister, this resolution is not good,  
Ill thrives that Marriage that begins in blood.  Kate. 
Sister, inform yourself, I have no Ladyship  
To guild my infamy, or keep tongues in awe:  
If God love innocency, I am sure he shall not  
Lose in this action.  Stra. 
Nor be't the other's life,  
Can give her to the world my perfect wife,  
But what I do conceive. It is not blood then  
Which she requires, but her good name again,  
and I will purchase it; for by heaven thou art  
The excellentest new fashioned Maid in this,  
That ever ear shall hear a Tale told off.  Omnes 
But hear ye.  Stra. 
Good, save your labours, for by Heaven I'll do't  
If I do't not, I shall be pointed at,  
Proclaimed the Grand Rich Cuckold of the Town;  
Nay wittal, even by them are known for both.  World. 
Take your revenge by Law.  Stean. 
It will be thought  
Your greatness, and our money carries it:  
for some say some men on the back of Law,  
May ride and rule it like a patient Ass,  
And with a Golden Bridle in the mouth,  
Direct it unto any thing they please,  
other's report, it is a spider's web  
Made to entangle the poor helpless Flies,  
Whilst the great Spiders that did make it first,  
and rule it, sit i'th' midst secure and laugh,  
My Law in this shall only be my sword,  
But peradventure not this month or two.  Kate. 
This month or two.  Count. 
I'll be your second then.  Stran. 
You proffer too much honour, my good Lord.  Pen. 
And I will be your third.  Abra. 
I'll not be fourth, nor fift,  
For the old proverb's good, which long hath been,  
Says safest 'tis sleeping in a whole skin.  Luci. 
Godamercy Nab, I'll ha' thee, and be but for thy manhood.  Inno. 
Wife, my Lady ninny, do ye hear your Son, he  
speaks seldom, but when he speaks.  Luci. 
He speaks Proverbs Efaith.  Lady. 
Oh, 'tis a pestilence Knight Mistress Lucida.  Luci. 
I and a pocky.  Kate. 
This month or two, d'ye love me, not before,  
It may be I will live so long Fame's Whore. Exit Kath.  World. 
What lowering Star ruled my Nativity,  
You'll come to dinner?  Stran. 
Yes.  Count. 
Good-morrow brother,  
Come, let's be merry in despite of all,  
And make this day (as 'tshould be) festival.  World. 
This sour thwart beginning may portend  
Good, and be crowned with a delicious end.  Exeunt all but Strange. Stra. 
So, I'll not see you till my task be done,  
So much false time I set to my intent,  
Which instantly I mean to execute,  
To cut off all means of prevention,  
Which if they knew my day, they would assay:  
Now for the Merchant's honour, hit all right,  
Kate, your young Strange will lie with you tonight. Exit.  Enter Wagtaile, the Page stealing after her, conceals himself. Wag. 
What a stir is here made about lying with a Gentlewoman, I have been lain with, a hundred and hundred times, and nothing has come on't, but haulke, hum, haulke, hum, oh, oh. Thus have I done for this month or two, haulke, hum.  Page. 
Ah Gods will, are you at it, you have acted your Name too much, sweet Mistress is Wagtail, this was wittily, though somewhat knavishly followed on me.  Mrs. Wag. 
umh, a my Conscience I am peppered, well thou tumblest not for nothing, for he Dances as well that got thee, and plays as well on the Viol, and yet he must not Father thee, I have better men; let me remember them, and here in my Melancholy. choose out one Rich enough, to reward this my stale Virginity, or fit enough, to marry my little Honesty; Haulke, hawk.  Page. 
She has a shroud reach, I see that, what a casting she keeps, marry my Comfort is, we shall hear by and by, who has given her the Casting Bottle.  Wag. 
Hawk, hawk, hawk, bitter, bitter, pray God I hurt not the Babe: Well, let me see, I'll begin with Knights, Inprimis, Sir john Dootwell, and Sir William Burnit.  Page. 
A hot Knight by my Faith, Dootwell and Burnit too.  Wag. 
For old Sir Innocent ninny, my Master, if I speak my Conscience look ye, I cannot directly accuse him, much has he been about, but done nothing; marry for S. Abraham, I will not altogether quit him, let me see, there's four Knights, now for Gentlemen.  Page. 
And so she'll come down to the footmen.  Wag. 
Master Lovall, Master Liveby't, and M. Pendant, huke, hi, up, hi, up.  Page. 
By this light I have heard enough, shall I hold your belly too, fair Maid of the fashion?  Wag. 
What say ye Jack Sauce?  Page. 
Oh fie, ill Mutton, you are too angry; why look ye, I am my lords Page, and you are my Lady's Gentlewoman, we should agree better, and I pray whether are you riding with this burden in your Dosser.  Wag. 
Why Sir, out of Town, I hope 'tis not the first time you have seen a child carried out of Town in a Dosser, for fear of the Plague.  Page. 
You have answered me I promise you, but who put it in I pray.  Wag. 
Not you Sir, I know by your asking.  Page. 
ay, alas, I know that by my Talon; for I remember thus much Philosophy of my schoolmasters, Ex nihilo nihil fit; but come, setting this Duello of wit aside, I have overheard your Confession, and your casting about for a Father, and in troth in mere Charity, came in to relieve you. In the scroll of Beasts, Horses, and Asses, that have fed upon this Common of yours, you named one Pendant, Faith Wench let him be the Father, he is a very handsome Gentleman I can tell you, in my lords favour, I'll be both secret and your friend, to my Lord, let it be him, he shall either reward thee bountifully, or marry thee.  Wag.. 
Sir you speak like an understanding young Gentleman, and I acknowledge myself much bound to you for your Counsel.  Pen. 
Will, Will. Within.  Page 
My Lord has sent him to call me, now I hold a wager on't, if thou be'st not a Fool, as most weighting women are, thou'lt use him in his kind.  Enter Pendant. Pen. 
Why Will I say, go, my Lord calls extremely,  Page. 
Did not I say so, Come this is but a trick to send me off Sir. Exit Page.  Pend. 
A notable little Rascal,  
pretty Mistress Wagtail: why d'ye walk so melancholy,  
I sent him hence a purpose; Come shall's do?  Wag. 
Do, what would you do, have done too much already.  Pen. 
What's the matter.  Wag. 
I am with child by you.  Pen. 
By me? why by me? a good jest i'faith.  Wag. 
You'll find it Sir in earnest.  Pend. 
Why, do you think I am such an Ass to believe nobody has meddled with you, but I.  Wag. 
Do you wrong me so much to think otherwise.  
This 'tis for a poor Damsel like myself,  
To yield her Honour and her youth to any,  
Who strait conceives she does so unto many,  
and as I have a soul to save, 'tis true.  Pen. 
Pray do not swear, I do not urge you to't; zounds, now I am undone; you walk somewhat round, Sweetheart, has Nobody been tampering with you else, think on't, for by this light, I am not worth the estate of an Apple wife, I do live upon commending my Lord, the Lord of hosts knows it; and all the world beside, for me to marry thee, will undo thee more, and that thou mayst keep me, keep thee in fashion,  
Sell thee to English, French, to Scot, and all,  
Till I have brought thee to an Hospital:  
and there I leave you, ha' you not heard nor read,  
Of some base slave, that wagging his fair head,  
Does whistling at one end of his shop walk,  
Whilst some Gay-man doth vomit bawdy talk  
In his wives ears at the other; such a Rogue or worse shall I be: For look ye Mistress Wagtail, I do live like a Chameleon upon the air, and not like a mole upon the earth, Land I have none, I pray God send me a grave when I am dead.  Wag. 
Its all one, I'll have you for your qualities.  Pen. 
For my good ones, they are altogether unknown, because they have not yet been seen, nor ever will be, for they have no being, in plain terms, as God help me, I have none.  Wag. 
How, came you by your good clothes.  Pen. 
By undoing Tailors, and then my Lord (like a Snake) casts a suit every quarter, which I slip into; therefore, thou art worse than mad, if thou wilt cast away thyself upon me  Wag. 
Why, what mends will you make me, can you give me some sum of money to marry me to some Tradesman, as the play says.  Pen. 
No by my troth: but tell me this, has not Sir Abraham been familiar with you.  Wag. 
Faith, not enough to make up a child.  Pen. 
Couldst be content to marry him.  Wag. 
I by my troth, and thank ye too,  Pend. 
Has he but kissed thee?  Wag. 
Yes, and something more beside that.  Pen. 
Nay, and there ha' been any jot of the thing, beside that, I'll warrant thee lay the child to him, stand stiffly to it, leave the rest to me, By that Fool thou shalt save thy honesty. Exeunt    

Actus 3  

scen. Prima.  Enter Strange, knocking at a door. Enter a Servingman. Stran. 
I Yes Captain Powts here pray?  Ser. 
Sir he does.  Stran. 
I prithee tell him here's a Gentleman Would speak with him.  Ser. 
What may I call your name Sir?  Stra. 
No matter for my name.  Ser. 
Troth Sir, the Captain is somewhat doubtful of strangers; and being as most Captains are, a little in debt, I know he will not speak with you, unless you send your Name.  Stra. 
Tell him my name is Strange, that I am come  
About that business he spoke off today. Exit Servant.  
To have sent a formal Challenge by a Gentleman,  
He being to choose his time, might peradventure  
Have made him shift himself the sooner over.  Enter Powts above. Powts. 
Sir, I know your business, you are come to serve a warrant, or a citation, I will not speak with you: and get you gone quickly too, or I may happen send a Bullet through your Mazzard. Exit.  Stran. 
Strange Cross, past expectation: well I'll try,  
My other course may speed more happily. Exit.  Music. Enter with Table Napkins. Count, Worldly, Nevill, Pendant, Sir Innocent, Lady, Sir Abraham, Servants with wine, Plate, Tobacco and pipes. World. 
Sir, had you borne us company to Church,  
You had been the better welcome.  Count. 
Faith you had, I must needs say so to.  Pen. 
And I must needs say as my Lord says.  Neu. 
Sir john I thank you, and my honoured Lord:  
But I am sorry for this other News  
Concerning Mistress Kate, and my good friend.  World. 
'tis certain true: He keeps his word well too,  
He said he would come to dinner.  Lady. 
All we cannot get M. Katherine out of her chamber.  World. 
Oh good old woman, she is topshackled.  Lady. 
'tis pestilence Sack, and cruel claret. Knight, stand to me Knight I say, up, a cold stomach; give me my Aquavitae bottle.  Inno. 
Oh Guinevere, as I am a justice of peace and Coram, 'twere a good deed to commit thee, Fie, fie, fie.  Sir Abra. 
Why alas, I cannot help this and I should be hanged, she'll be as drunk as a Porter: I'll tell you my Lord, I have seen her so bepiss the Rushes, as she has danced at a Wedding: Her belly, and that Aquavitae bottle, have almost undone my Father: Well I think in Conscience, she is not my natural begotten Mother.  Om. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Luce. 
Well said my wise Sir Abraham.  Count. 
Oh this Music and good Wine is the soul of all the world.  World. 
Come, will your Lordship make one at Primero, until your Bride come forth.  Neu. 
You can play well my Lord.  Count. 
Whole?  Pend. 
Who my Lord, the only player at Primero i'th' Court.  Abra. 
I'd rather play at Bowls.  Pen. 
My Lords for you for that too: the only, Bowler in London, that is not a Church warden.  Luce. 
Can he fence well too M. Pendant?  Pen. 
Who my Lord? the only Fencer in Christendom, he'll hit you.  Luce. 
He shall not hit me, I assure you now.  Neu. 
Is he good at the exercise of drinking Sir?  Pen. 
Who my Lord; the only Drunkard i'th' world, drinker I would say.  Luci. 
Godamercy for that.  Neu. 
I would he heard him.  Neu, 
Oh fie no, none so good as my Lord.  Pen, 
Hardly, by’r lady, hardly.  Count. 
How now, whose's this?  Enter Scudmore like a Servingman, with a Letter. World. 
What would you?  Scud. 
I would speak with the Lady Bellafront,  
From the young Lady lucy.  World. 
You had best send in your Letter, she is withdrawn.  Scud. 
My Lady gave me charge of the delivery,  
And I must do't myself, or carry it back.  World. 
A trusty servant, that way leads you to her.  Count. 
This trust in Servants is a jewel; Come,  
Let us to Bowls i'th' Garden. Exeunt  Scud. 
Blessed fate.  Scudmore passeth one door, and entereth the other, where Bellafront sits in a Chair, under a Taffeta Canopy, Scud. 
Oh thou, whose words and actions seemed to me,  
As innocent as this smooth sleep, which hath  
Locked up thy powers: would thou hadst slept, when first  
Thou sentest and proferredst me beauty and love:  
I had been ignorant then of such a loss,  
happy's that wretch in my opinion,  
That never owned scarce jewels, or bright Sums,  
He can lose nothing but his constant wants:  
But speakless is his plague, that once had store,  
and from superfluous state falls to be poor:  
Such is my hell-bred hap, could Nature make  
So fair a superficies, to enclose  
So false a heart; This is like gilded Tombs,  
Compacted of jet Pillars, Marble stones,  
Which hide from's stinking Flesh, and rotten bones.  
Pallas so sat (methinks) in Hector's Tent;  
But time so precious and so dangerous  
Why do I lose thee? Madam, my Lady, Madam.  Bella. 
Believe me my dear friend, I was enforced: Ha,  
I had a Dream as strange as thou art fellow,  
How cam'st thou hither? What's thy business?  Scud. 
That Letter Madam tells you.  Bell. 
Letter: Ha?  
What dost thou mock me? Here is nothing writ.  Scud. 
Can you read any thing then in this face?  Bell. 
Oh Basilisk, remove thee from my sight,  
Or thy heart's blood shall pay thy rash attempt.  
Ho, Who attends us there?  Scud. 
Stir not a foot,  
And stop your clamorous acclamations,  
Or by the bitterness of my fresh wrongs,  
I'll send your Ladyship to the Devil quick;  
I know the hazard I do undergo,  
and whatsoe'er after becomes of me,  
I'll make you sure first: I am come to speak,  
and speak I will freely, and to bring back  
Your Letters, and such things you sent; and then,  
I'll near see those deceiving eyes again.  Bell. 
Oh, I am sick of my corruption,  
For Godsake do not speak a word more to me.  Scud. 
Not speak, yes woman, I will roar a loud,  
Call thee the falsest fair that ever breathed,  
Tell thee, that in this marriage, thou hast drowned  
All virtue, left to credit thy weak sex,  
which being (as 'twere) committed to thy trust,  
Thou traitorously hast betrayed it thus.  
Did I entice, or ever send thee jousts  
To allure thee, to reflect a beam on me?  
Nay, didst not thou thyself send and invent  
Past humane wit, our means of intercourse?  
Why dost thou then prove base unto thyself,  
Perjured and impious, know the good thou hast lost  
In my opinion; doth outvalue far  
The airy honours thou art married to.  Bell. 
Oh peace, for you speak sharpness to my soul  
More torturous, then hell's plagues to the damned,  
For love sake hear me speak.  Scud. 
For loves sake, no:  
Love is my surfeit, and is turned in me  
To a disease.  Bell. 
Tyrant, my knees shall beg,  
Till they get liberty for my tongue to speak,  
Drowned almost in the Rivers of mine eyes.  Scud. 
What canst thou say, art thou not married?  Bell. 
Alas I was enforced, first by the threats  
Of a severe Father, that in his hand  
Did gripe my fortunes; next to that, the fame  
Of your neglect, and liberal tongue,  
Which bred my honour an eternal wrong.  Scud. 
Pish, these are painted causes, till this Morn  
He lived not in this land, that durst accuse  
My integrity, of such an ignorance.  
But take your Letters here, your paper Vows,  
Your Picture, and your Bracelets: and if ever  
I build again upon a woman's faith,  
May sense forsake me: I will sooner trust  
Dice, or a reconciled enemy: Oh God,  
What an internal joy my heart has felt,  
Sitting at one of these same idle plays,  
When I have seen a Maid's inconstancy  
Presented to the life; how glad my eyes  
Have stole about me, fearing lest my looks  
Should tell the company contented there,  
I had a Mistress free of all such faults.  Bell. 
Oh! still retain her, dear Scudmore hear me.  Scud. 
Retain thee so, it is impossible,  
Art thou not married? 'tis impossible,  
Oh no! I do despise thee, and will fly  
As far on earth as to the Antipodes,  
and by some learned Magician, whose deep art  
Can know thy residence on this Hemisphere;  
There I'll be placed, my feet just against thine,  
To express the opposite Nature, which our hearts  
Must henceforth hold.  Bell. 
Oh rather shoot me friend,  
Then let me hear thee speak such bitterness.  
Oh pity me, redeem from the hell  
That in this Marriage I am like to feel,  
I'll rather fly to barren wildernesses,  
and suffer all wants with thee Scudmore, then  
Live with all plenty in this husband's arms,  
Thou shalt perceive I am not such a woman,  
That is transported with vain dignities,  
Oh thy dear words have knocked at my heart's gates,  
and entered: They have plucked the devils Vizard.  
(That did deform this face, and blind my soul)  
Off, and thy Bellafront presents herself,  
(Laved in a Bath of contrite Virginal tears,)  
Clothed in the Original beauty that was thine:  
Now for thy love to God, count this not done,  
Let time go back, and be as when before it,  
Or from thy memory race it for ever.  Scud. 
Ha, ha, ha, was there ever such strange creatures framed,  
Why dost thou speak such foolish senseless things?  
Can thy forsaking him redeem thy fault?  
No, I will never mend an ill with worse.  
Why this example will make women false,  
When they shall hear it, that before were true,  
For after ill examples we do fly,  
But must be vowed to deeds of piety:  
Oh woman, woman, woman, woman, woman,  
The cause of future and Original sin,  
How happy (had you not) should we have been,  
False where you kiss, but murdering in your ire,  
Love all that woe, know all men you desire.  
Ungrateful, yet most impudent crave,  
Torturous as hell, insatiate as the grave:  
Lustful as Monkeys, grinning in your ease,  
Whom if we make not Idols, we near please.  
More vainly proud than fools, as ignorant;  
Baser than Parasites, Witches that enchant  
And make us senseless, to think death or life  
Is yours to give, when only our belief  
Doth make you able to deceive us so,  
Begot by Drunkards, to breed sin and woe.  
As many foul diseases hide your veins,  
as there are mischiefs coined in your quick brains;  
Not quick in wit, fit to perform least good,  
But to subvert whole States, shed Seas of blood;  
Twice as deceitful as are Crocodiles,  
For you betray both ways; with tears and smiles,  
Yet questionless there are as good, as bad:  
Hence, let me go.  Bell. 
Hear me, and thou shalt go:  
I do confess I do deserve all this,  
Have wounded all the faith my sex doth owe,  
But will recover it, or pay my life:  
Strive not to go, for you shall hear me first,  
I charge thee Scudmore, thou hard-hearted man,  
Upon my knees: thou most implacable man,  
since penitence  
and satisfaction to, gets not thy pardon,  
I charge thee use some means to set me free,  
Before the Revels of this night have end,  
Prevent my entering to this marriage bed;  
Or by the memory of Lucretia's knife,  
Ere Morn I'll die a Virgin, though a wife. Exit.  Scud. 
Pish do, the world will have one mischief less. Exit  Enter Sir Abraham throwing down his Bowls. Abra. 
Bowl they that list, for I will Bowl no more,  
Cupid that little Bowler in my breast  
Rubs at my heart, and will not let me rest.  Rub, rub, within, fly, fly. 
ay, ay, you may cry rub, fly to your Bowls,  
For you are free, love troubles not your jowls,  
But from my head to heel; from heel to heart,  
Behind, before, and round about I smart,  
Then in this Arbour sitting all alone,  
In doleful Ditty, let me howl my moan.  
Oh Boy, leave pricking for I vail my Bonnet,  
Give me but breath while I do write a Sonnet.  Enter Pendant. Pen. 
I have lost my money, and Sir Abraham too, yonder he sits at his Muse by heaven, drowned in the Ocean of his love, Lord how he labours, like a hard bound Poet, whose brains had a frost in 'em, now it comes.  Abra. 
I die, I sigh.  Pend. 
What after you are dead? Very good,  Abra. 
I die, I sigh, thou precious stony jewel.  Pen. 
Good: because she is hard-hearted.  Abra. 
I die. Write.  Pen. 
He has died three times, and come again.  Abra. 
I sigh thou precious stony jewel,  
Wearing of silk, why art thou still so cruel. Write.  Pe. 
Oh Newington conceit, and quieting else.  Abra. 
Thy servant Abraham sends this foolish Ditty.  Pen. 
You say true in troth Sir.  Abra. 
Thy Servant Abra. sends this foolish Dit Write  
Tie unto thee, pity both him and it. Write  Pen. 
Tie unto thee: well, if she do not pity both, 'tis pity she should live.  Abra. 
But if thou still wilt poor Sir Abra: frump Write  
Come grim death come, here give thy mortal thump.  
So now I'll read it together.  
I die, I sigh, thou precious stony jewel,  
Oh wherefore wear'st thou Sulk, yet art so cruel:  
To thee thy ninny sends this foolish Dit—  
Tie, and pity both him and it,  
If thou deny, and still Sir Abraham frump,  
Come grim death come, here give thy mortal thump.  
Let me see, who shall I get now, to set too a dampish Note.  Pen. 
In good faith I do not know, but Nobody that is wise, I am sure of that. It will be an excellent matter sung to the knacking of the tongues. But to my business, God save the right Worthy and Worshipful Sir Abraham: what musing and writing: oh, this love will undo us all, and that made me prevent love, and undo myself: but what news of Mistress Lucida, ha, will she not come off, not cannot you come on little Abraham.  Abra. 
Faith, I have courted her, and courted her: and she does as everybody else does, laughs at all I can do or say.  Pen. 
laughs, why that's a sign she is pleased; do you not know when a woman laughs, she's pleased.  Ab. 
ay but she laughs most shamefully, & most scornfully.  Pend. 
Scornfully, hang her, she's but a babble.  Abra. 
she's the fitter for my turn Sir, for they will not stick to say, I am a fool for all I am a Knight.  Pen. 
Love has made you witty little Nab, but what a mad villain art thou, a striker, a fiftieth part of Hercules, to get one Wench with Child, and go a-wooing to another.  Abra. 
With child, a good jest efaith, whom have I got with child.  Pen. 
Why Mistress Wagtail is with child, and will be deposed as yours, she is my Kinswoman, and I would be loath our house should suffer any disgrace in her, if there be law in England, which there should be, if we may judge by their Consciences, or if I have any friends, the Wench shall take no wrong, I cannot tell, I think my Lord will stick to me.  Abra. 
d'ye hear, talk not to me of Friends, Law, or Conscience, if your Kinswoman say she is with Child by me, your Kinswoman is an arrant whore; Uds-will, have you nobody to put your Gulls upon but Knights? That Wagtail is a whore, and I'll stand to it.  Pend. 
Nay, you have stood to it already; but to call my cousin whore, you have not a mind to have your throat cut: ha' you?  Abra. 
Truth no great mind Sir.  Draws his sword. Pen. 
Recant your words, or die.  Abra. 
Recant, oh base; out sword, my honour keep,  
Love, thou hast made a Lion of a Sheep.  Pen. 
But will you fight in this quarrel.  Abra. 
I am resolved.  Pen. 
Heart, I have pulled an old house over my head; here's like to be a tall fray, I perceive a fool's valianter than a Knave at all times, would I were well riddle of him, I had as live meet Hector God knows, if he dare fight at all: they are all one to me, or to speak more modernly, with one of the Roaring Boys.  Abra. 
Have you done your prayers?  Pen. 
Pray give me leave Sir, put up an't please you: are you sure my cousin Wagtail is a Whore?  Abra. 
With sword in hand I do it not recant.  Pen. 
Well, it shall never be said Jack Pendant would venture his blood in a whore's quarrel: but Whore or no Whore, she is most desperately in Love with you, praises your head, your face, your nose, your eyes, your mouth; the fire of her commendations, makes the pot of your good parts run over; and to conclude, if the whore have you not, I think the Pond at Islington, will be her bathin-tub, and give an end to mortal Misery, but if she belie you (pray put up Sir:) she is an arrant whore, and so let her go.  Abra. 
Does she so love me say you?  Pen. 
Yes, yes, out of all question the whore does love you abominable.  Abra. 
No more of these soul terms if she do love me,  
That goes by fate, I know it by myself,  
I'll not deny but I have dallied with her.  Pen. 
ay, but hang her who whore dallying will get no Children.  Abra. 
Another whore, and draw; where is the Girl.  Pen. 
condoling her misfortune in the Gallery,  
Upon the rushes, sitting all alone,  
and for Sir Abraham's love venting her moan.  Abra. 
I know not what to say, Fates above all,  
Come let's go overhear her, be this true,  
Welcome my Wagtail, scornful Luce adieu. Exit.  Pen. 
One way it takes yet, 'tis a fools condition,  
Whom none can love: out of his penury,  
To catch most greedily at any wench  
That gives way to his love, or feigns her own,  
First unto him, and so Sir Abraham now  
I hope will buy the pool where I will Fish,  
Thus a quick Knave makes a fat fool his dish. Exit.  Enter Powts. Powts. 
I have played the melancholy Ass, and partly the Knave, in this last business, but as the Parson said that got the wench with child, 'tis done now Sir, it cannot be undone, and my purse or I must smart for it.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Your Trunks are shipped, and the Tide falls out about twelve tonight.  Powts. 
I'll away, this Law is like the Basilisk, to see it first, is the death on't this night: and noble London farewell, I will never see thee more, till I be knighted for my Virtues. Let me see, when shall I return; and yet I do not think but there are a great many dubbed for their Virtues; otherwise how could there be so many poor knights, what at thou? what's thy news?  Enter Strange like a Soldier amazedly. Stra. 
zounds, a man is feign to break open doors, ere he can get in to you.  
I would speak with a General sooner.  Cap. 
Sir you may, he owes less peradventure: or if more, he is more able to pay't: What art?  Stran. 
A Soldier, one that lives upon this Buss jerkin, 'twas made of Fortunatus his pouch; and these are the points I stand upon, I am a Soldier.  Cap. 
A counterfeit Rogue you are.  Stra. 
As true a Rogue as thyself: Thou wrong'st me, send your man away, go too, I have strange and welcome business to impart, the Merchant is dead, for shame let's walk into the fields, send away your man.  Cap. 
How?  Stra. 
Here is a Letter from the lusty Kate  
That tells you all, I must not give it you  
But upon some conditions. Let us walk,  
and send away your man.  Cap. 
Go Sirrah, and bespeak Supper at the Bear, and provide Oars, I'll see Graves-end tonight. Exit.  Stra. 
The Gentlewoman will run mad after you then, I'll tell you more, let's walk. Exit.    

Actus Quartus.  Enter Scudmore and Nevill. 
I See great'st Spirits can serve to their own ends,  
Were you the seeming serving-man that passed by?  Scud. 
By my sad heart I was, and not a Tittle  
Of my relation to thee wrong or feigned.  Neu. 
Introth you were too blame to venture so,  
Mischiefs find us, we need not mischiefs seek;  
I am not tied to that opinion,  
They are like women, which do always shun  
Their lovers and pursuers, and do follow  
With most rank appetites them that do fly:  
All mischief that I had is but one woman,  
and that one woman all mischance to me,  
Who speaks worst of them, then's the best of men,  
They are like shadows, mischiefs are like them.  
Death fears me, for in troth I seek him out;  
The Sun is stale to me, tomorrow Morn  
as this, 'twill rise, I see no difference;  
The night doth visit me, but in one robe,  
She brings as many thoughts as she wears Stars  
When she is pleasant, but no rest at all,  
For what new strange thing should I covet life then?  
Is not she false, whom only I thought true?  
Shall time to show his strength make Scudmore live.  
Till (perish the vicious thought) I love not thee,  
Or thou dear friend, remove thy heart from me.  Neu. 
Time is as weak for that, as he is old,  
Take comfort, and attend this counsel friend,  
This match is neither Sacred nor sure,  
Close Fate annihilates what Opinion makes,  
and since she is resolved this night to die,  
If you do not redeem her, give the means,  
Or her blood (credit me) will spring heavier griefs,  
Sorer and stranger in thy oppressed heart  
Then her false love before. Besides, 'tis you  
My Scudmore that are false, if you will not  
Consent to let her make Vows good, which were  
But in a possibility to be broke,  
This her Repentance casts her vice quite off:  
and if you leave her now, you take it on,  
Nay you incur a bloody mortal sin,  
You do become an actual murderer.  
If you neglect her, she will kill herself  
This night, by poison, knife, or other means,  
God gives you power to cross her desperate will,  
and if you save not where you may, you kill.  Scu. 
Why can my Noble and wise friend, think still  
That what a woman says, her heart doth mean?  
Can you believe that she will kill herself.  
'tis a full hour since she spoke the word,  
and God forbid, that any woman's mind  
Should not be changed and changed in a long hour.  
She is by this time in her Lordly arms,  
and like pleased juno, clasped by jupiter,  
Forgets the plaints of poor mortality,  
Such state, such pride, as Poets show her in,  
Incensed with jove's loose scapes upon the earth,  
She cast on me at our encountering;  
As cold and heavy, as a Rock of Ice  
In her love to me, which while I there staid,  
My bitter and hot words resolved a little,  
(Just as the Sun doth Ice) I softened her,  
and made her drown her fault in her own tears,  
But think you she holds this flexible vain:  
No, I me removed, and she's congealed again.  Neu. 
How well does Scudmore speak, ill for himself,  
Wit's a disease, that fit employment wants,  
Therefore we see, those happiest in best parts,  
and underborne fortunes under their merits,  
Grow to a sullen envy, hate, and scorn  
Of their Superiors; and at last, like winds  
Break forth into rebellious civil wars,  
Or private Treasons; none so apt for these,  
as melancholy wits fettered with need.  
How free's the Rustic Swain from these assaults,  
He never feels a passion all his life,  
But when he cannot sleep, or hunger gripes;  
And though he want Reason, Wit, Art, nay Sense,  
Is not so senseless to capitulate,  
and ask God why he made not him as great  
As that same foolish Lord, or that rich knave:  
His brains with nothing does Negotiate,  
But his hard Husbandry, which makes him live.  
But have we worthy gifts, as judgement, Learning,  
Ingenious sharpness, which wise God indeed,  
Doth seldom give out of his equal hand,  
But joined with poverty to make it even  
With Riches which he clogs with ignorance,  
We vent our blessing in profane conceits,  
Or in strong Arguments against ourselves,  
Foul Bawdry, and stark blindly hold it best,  
Rather to lose a soul, then lose a jest.  Scud. 
Ill terms my friend, this wit in any man,  
(For that but seasoned with discretion)  
Holds him in awe of all these blemishes,  
Frees him of envy, doth Philosophize  
His Spirit, that he makes no difference  
Twixt man and man, twixt fortunes high and low,  
But as the thicker they with virtues grow,  
Freedom and bondage wit can make alone;  
So 'twould by being left, and being loved,  
If I had any of it tempered so:  
But you have spoke all this condemning me,  
For having wit to speak against myself,  
But I'll be ruled by you in all.  Ne. 
Then thus:  
tonight by promise, I do give a Mask,  
as to congratulate the Bridal day,  
In which the Count, Pendant, and the wise Knight,  
Will be most worthy dancers, Sir you shall,  
Learn but my part, which I will teach you to,  
as nimbly as the Usher did teach me,  
and follow my further directions,  
Though I i'th' Morn were a prodigious wight,  
I'll give thee Bellafront in thine arms tonight.  Scud. 
I am your property, my Engineer  
Prosper your purposes, shine thou eye of heaven,  
and make thy lowering Morn, a smiling Even. Exeunt  Enter Cap. Powts with a Letter, and Strange like a Soldier. Stran. 
Oh, these are Lambeth fields.  Cap. 
Strange murmured on the wedding day by you,  
At his own Bride's appointment, for my sake?  Stran. 
As dead as Charity.  Cap. 
This sounds not well.  Stran. 
zounds, you may say as well I am the man,  
as doubt he lives, a plague of your belief,  
d'ye know this bloody Ruff which she has sent,  
lest you should be incredulous, and this Ring  
Which you have seen her wear?  Cap. 
I know the Ring,  
and I have seen the Ruff about his neck,  
This comes of enforced marriages; Where was't done?  
And how escaped you?  Stran. 
Sir receive it briefly:  
I am her Kinsman, and being newly come  
Over, and not intending to stay long,  
Took this day to go see my cousin Worldly,  
(For so my Name is) where I found all of them  
So deeply drenched in the Bridal cup,  
That sleep had ta'en possession of their eyes;  
Bacchus had given them such an overthrow,  
Their bodies lay like slaughtered carcases;  
One here, one there, making such antic faces,  
as drunkenness had mocked at drunkenness,  
Introth their postures and their sleep like death,  
(For theirs, was liker death, then sober sleep)  
Remembered me of body-scattered fields,  
after the bloody battles I have seen,  
'twas such a season. To make short my tale,  
as Fate had said, Now murders may be done  
and ne'er revealed, approaching further, I  
Lighted upon a Chamber, where your Love  
Sat by this Merchant cast drunk on the bed,  
She weeping and lamenting her mishap,  
assured both of my daring, and my trust,  
Fell flat upon the ground, then raised herself,  
Hung on my neck, then sunk down to my legs,  
Told all things passed today, and never ceased  
Till I had ta'en life from that half dead man  
Before, whom straight I strangled with this Rope.  Cap. 
You have show'd some kindness to me, I must love you Sir,  
What did you with his body?  Stran. 
Having first  
By her direction put on these his Clothes,  
That like the murmured man, the safelier  
I might pass with her, being her husband's shape,  
If any of the Servants had been waked,  
She show'd me to a necessary vault,  
Within a Closet in the Chamber too,  
and there I threw the body.  Cap. 
Whence this blood?  Str. 
That she herself first, let out of his veins,  
Wherein she dipped the Ruff about his neck:  
and said, Go bear this Ensign of my love,  
To assure him what I dared for his dear sake.  Cap. 
Where is the Maid?  Stran. 
Captain a Maid for you,  
But well you know (I hope) she is no Maid,  
But Maid or no Maid, she is at my Mothers,  
Whence I will bring her whether you'll appoint  
tonight, and let this Tide convey all hence,  
For staying will be something perilous.  Cap. 
Sir, I will kill two men for you till then  
I owe my life to you, and if ever Racks,  
Strappadoes, wheel, or any torturous Engine,  
Even from the Roman Yoke, to the Scotch Boot,  
Force me discover you, or her, to Law,  
Pray God the Merchant may respire again,  
But what a Villain have I been to wrong her?  
Did she not tell you how I injured her?  Stra. 
She said you challenged her, and publicly  
Told you had lain with her, but Truths no wrong.  Cap. 
Truth, 'twas more false than Hell, & you shall see me,  
(As Well, as I can repent of any sin)  
Ask her forgiveness for wounding of her Name,  
and 'gainst the world recover her lost fame.  
Kind soul, would I could weep, to make amends  
Why I did slander her at the Church door.  Stran. 
The more base Villain thou. Strike him.  Cap. 
Ha, what's the news?  Stran. 
Thou unspeakable Rascal, thou a Soldier,  
a Captain of the Suburbs, a poor forced,  
That with thy Slops, and Cat a mountains face,  
Thy bladder chops, and thy robustious words,  
Frightest the poor whore, and terribly dost exact,  
a weekly Subsidy, twelve pence a piece,  
Whereon thou liv'st, and on my Conscience  
Thou snap'st beside, with cheats and Cutpurses.  Cap. 
Heart, this is some railing Poet, why you Rogue?  Str. 
Thou Rogue, far worse than Rogues, thou slanderer  Ca. 
Thou worse than slanderous Rogues, thou murderer  Stran. 
'tis well remembered, I will cut thy throat,  
To appease that Merchant's soul, which ne'er will rest,  
Till some revenge be taken on thy tongue.  Cap. 
I'll kill the first, and in thy vital flood, Fight.  
Wash my hands clean of that young Merchant's blood.  Stra. 
You fight as if you had fought afore,  
I can still hold my sword, come on Sir.  Cap. 
zounds can you ward so well, I think you are one of the Noble science of Defence.  Stra. 
True, a'th' Science of Noble Defence I am,  
That fight in safeguard of a virtuous name. Cadit Cap:  Cap. 
Oh, now I understand you, and you stand over me, My hurts are not mortal, but you have the better, if your name be worldly, be thankful for your fortune.  Stran. 
Give me thy sword, or I will kill thee.  Ca. 
Some wiser than some, I love my reputation well, yet I am not so valiant an ass, but I love my life better, there's my  Str. 
Then get upon my back, come all shallbe well.  
I'll carry thee unto a Surgeon first, & then unto thy wench, sword  
Come we are friends.  Cap. 
Godamercy, zounds methinks I see myself in  
moorfield's, upon a wooden leg, begging three pence.  Stra. 
I thank thee heaven for my success in this,  
To what perfection is my business grown. Exit with Cap. on his back.  
Seldom or never is right overthrown.  Enter Pendant, and Mistress Wagtaile, with work sowing a purse. Pen. 
They say every woman has a spring to catch a Woodcock, remember my instructions, and let me see what a Paradise thou canst bring this fool into. 15. hundred a year wench, will make us all merry, but a fool to boot; why we shall throw the house out at window; Let me see, there are two things in this foolish Transitory world, which should be altogether regarded, profit and pleasure, or pleasure and profit, I know not which to place first, for indeed, they are Twins, and were borne together; for Profit, this Marriage (God speed it) marries you to it, and for pleasure, if I help you not to that as cheap as any man in England, call me Cut, and so remember my instructions, for I'll go fetch Sir Abraham. Exit.  Wag. 
Your instructions; Nay faith, you shall see I have as fruitful a brain as a belly, you shall hear some additions of my own, my fantasy even kicks like my Bastard: well Boy, for I know thou art Masculine, neither thy Father nor thy Mother had any feminine quality, but one, and that was to take a good thing when it was proffered; when thou inheritest Land, strange both to thy Father and Grandfather, and rid'st in a caroche, it may be thy Father an old Footman, will be running by thy side, but yonder comes the Gentle Knight, and my Squire.  Enter Sir Abraham and Pendant stealing. Wag. 
Unfortunate Damsel, why dost thou love  
Where thou hast sworn it never to reveal?  
May be he would vouchsafe to look on thee  
Because he is a Knight, is it thy terror,  
Why peradventure he is Knighthood's Mirror.  Pen. 
d'ye hear Sir Abraham?  Abra. 
Yes, with standing tears.  Wag. 
Beavis on Arundel with Morglay in hand,  
Near to my Knight in prowess doth not stand;  
They say Sir Beavis flew both Boar and Dragon,  
My Knight for that can drink up a whole Flagon,  
a thing as famous now amongst our men,  
as killing Monsters were accounted then,  
'tis not thy leg, no, were it twice as good,  
Throws me into this melancholy mood,  
Yet let me say and swear, in a cross Garter,  
Poles never show'd to eyes a lovelier quarter.  Abra. 
ay, but all this while she does not name me, she may mean Somebody else.  Pen. 
Mean Somebody else, you shall hear her name you by and by.  Wag. 
Courteous Sir Abraham.  Pen. 
la ye there.  Wag. 
Oh, thy very name,  
Like to a Hatchet cleaves my heart in twain,  
When first I saw thee in those little Breeches,  
I laughed for joy, but when I heard thy speeches  
I smiled down right, for I was almost frantic,  
A modern Knight should be so like an Antic,  
In words and deeds, those Pinkanies of thine,  
For I shall ne'er be blessed to call them mine.  Abra. 
Say not so, Sweetheart.  Wag. 
How they did run not rheumatickly run,  
But round about the room, one over one,  
That wide mouth no, small, no, but Middle-size,  
That Nose Dominical, that head, like— wise.  Pen. 
Very good, d'ye mark that head like wise?  Abra. 
She has an excellent wit.  Pen. 
I'll now into her, Sir observe what follows, Now Turtle mourning still For the party, for whom are you working that purse?  Abra. 
For me I warrant her.  Wag. 
What news good cousin, I hope you have not revealed my Love.  Pend. 
Yes faith, I have acquainted the Knight withal, and thou mayst be ashamed to abuse a Gentleman to slanderously, he swears he ne'er lay with you.  Wag. 
Lay with me, alas no, I say not so, nor no man living; but there was one night above the rest, that I dreamed he lay with me, and did you ne'er hear of a child begot in a Dream.  Ab. 
By this light, that very night I dreamed she lay with me.  Pend. 
ay but Sir Abra: is no dreaming knight: in short, he contemns you, he scorns you at his heels.  Abra. 
By God so he lies, I have the most ado to forbear, but that I would hear a little more.  Pend. 
And has sent this halter, you may hang yourself, or you may cut your throat, here's a knife too.  Wag. 
Well, I will love him in despite of all,  
howe'er he uses me, 'tis not the shame  
Of being examined, or the fear of whipping.  Pend. 
Make as if thou wouldst kill thyself.  Wag. 
Should move me, would but he vouchsafe his love,  
Bear him this purse filled with my latest breath. Blows in it  
I loved thee Abraham ninny, even in death. Offers to stab  Abra. 
Hold, hold, thy Knight commands thee for to hold,  
I sent no halter, poor soul how it pants,  
Take Courage, look up.  Pend. 
Look, Sir Abra: in person comes to see you.  Wag. 
Oh, let me die then in his worship's arms.  Abra. 
Live long and happy to produce thy Baby,  
I am thy Knight, and thou shalt be my Lady:  
Frown Dad, fret Mother, so my love look cheerly,  
Thou hast my heart, and thou hast bought it dearly,  
And for your pains, if Abraham live to inherit,  
He will not be unmindful of your merit;  
Wear thou this Ring, whilst I thy labours Task,  
This Purse wear in my Cap, anon i'th' Mask.  Wag. 
Oh happy woman.  Abra. 
To Supper let's, and merry be as may be.  Pe. 
Now God send every wise knight such a Lady. Exeunt   

Actus Quintus.  

Scen. prima.  Enter Bellafront. Bell. 
Titles and State d'ye call it: Oh Content!  
Thou art both beauty, means, and all in marriage:  
joy dwells not in the PRINCE's Palaces,  
They that envy 'em do not know their cares,  
Were I the Queen of Gold, it could not buy  
An hours ease, for my oppressed heart.  
Oh, were this Wedlock knot to tie again,  
Not all the State and glory it contains,  
joined with my Father's fury, should enforce  
My rash consent; but Scudmore thou shalt see,  
This false heart (in my death) most true to thee.  Shows a Knife hanging by her side. 
My Lord, my Father, all the Company  
Did note my sudden sadness now at Supper,  
Yet came I out, and put on feigned mirth,  
And mean to sit out this nights Revels too,  
To avoid all suspect may grow in 'em,  
lest my behaviour should my intent reveal:  
Our griefs (like love) we hardly can conceal,  
Yond comes my Sisters: Are the Maskers ready?  Enter Lucida with her Willow Garland on, and Katherine. Luci. 
They are gone to dress themselves, M. nevil's come  
I would I had not vowed to live a Maid,  
I am a little taken with that Gentleman,  
And yet if Marriage be so full of ill,  
Let me be married to my Garland still.  Kate. 
Introth thy State is happier much than ours,  
Were never two (like us) unfortunate.  Luci. 
Thy case indeed, I needs must pity much,  
Because I think thy Virtue slandered,  
But for my Lady Sister, if she reap  
Sad discontent, 'tis nonce but her own fault,  
I knew the passages twixt her and Scudmore.  Bella. 
Sister, I wonder you will name a man,  
I think not on, he was no match for me,  
Why d'ye blame me, that should rather blame  
Your wandering eye, to love a man loved me,  Luci. 
Well 'tis too late now to expostulate.  
But my poor little Kate, where is thy man?  Kate. 
Lost, lost in troth, tomorrow I shall hear,  
I make account he's gone some five years voyage,  
Till this disgrace of ours be overblown,  
and for my Captain Powts, by this time he  
Is ten mile on the River toward graves end.  Enter Sir john Wordly, with two with Torches and Cudgels. World. 
Stand you two there, Sirrah go you with me.  
Why how now Girls here still, what & your Ladyship?  
Away, away, I say, go take your places.  
Some Torches for my Lady.  Scud. 
You Sirrah, Exeunt Bell. Lucida, Kate.  
Is my lady ninny awake yet?  Ser. 
Yes sir, she is awake, but she is scant sober, the first thing she called for, was her Aqua vitae bottle.  World. 
Who is with her?  Ser. 
The good Sir Innocent, and her Gentlewoman,  World. 
Go tell 'em I desire their Company,  
The Mask stays on 'em say, and d'ye hear,  
The sides of one a'th' Chairs must be let out,  
For her great Ladyship.  Ser. 
Marry shall it Sir. Exit Servant.  Enter Nevill, Count, Pendant, and Sir Abraham in their Masking Robes, Sir Abra: gnawing on a capon's Leg. Neu. 
Soul man, leave eating now, look, look, you have all dropped a your suit.  Abra. 
Oh Sir, I was in love today, and could not eat, but here's one knows the case is altered, lend me but a Handkerchief to wipe my mouth, and I ha' done.  Ne. 
Soul, how this Rascal stays with the rest of our things.  World. 
How now son Count, what ready M. Nevill.  Neu. 
All ready, ready, only we tarry for our visards & our Caps, I put 'em to a knave to doing, because I would have 'em the better done.  Abra. 
If you put 'em to a knave, you are like to have 'em the worse done.  Neu. 
Your wit is most active, I called him knave in regard of his long stay Sir, not his work.  Abra. 
But d'ye hear mayst Nevill, did you bespeak a Vizard with a most terrible countenance for me.  Neu. 
A very devils face, I fear nothing but that it will fright the women.  Abra. 
I would it would, and a huge mustachioes?  Nue. 
A very Turks.  Abra. 
Excellent.  Count. 
But do you think he will come at all?  Om. 
Oh, there he is. Speaks within,  By your leave, stand back, by your leave. Enter Scudmore like a Vizard-maker. 
Nothing can be done tonight, if I enter not.  2 Ser. 
Stand back there, or I'll burn you.  Scud. 
'twere but a whorish trick Sir.  3 servant 
Oh Sir be't you, Heart you'll be killed.  Scud. 
Marry God forbid Sir.  Ne. 
Pray forbear, let me speak to him, Oh you use us very well.  Scud. 
In good Faith, I have been so troubled about this Gentleman's scurvy face (I take it) 'tis wonderful.  Abra. 
Well, are you fitted now.  Neu. 
Fitted at all points.  Count. 
Where are the Caps.  Scud. 
Here Sir.  Pen. 
Let me see mine.  Count. 
Come help me on with mine.  Abra. 
This a rare face to fright the Maids i'th' Country, here now I'll pin my purse, come help me on.  Ne. 
So, so, away, mine being on I'll follow you.  Om. 
Pray make haste. Exeunt S. john, Count, Pen.  Ne. 
So that doors fast, and they are busied. S. Abra.  
About their charge: on with this rob of mine,  
This Vizard and this Cap; help me a little. Change habit.  Scud. 
At first Change I must tell her who I am?  Neu. 
Right, 'tis agreed, I (leading of the Mask,)  
Should dance with Bellafront.  Scud. 
And at the second, I come away with her, & leave them dancing, and shall find you at the back door.  Neu. 
The rest  
That follows, is digested in my breast.  Ser. 
What would you do? Stand back,  
Unless you can eat Torches.  Enter Count, Pend: Sir Abrahm in their Masking robes. Count. 
Come, come, away for shame.  Sc. 
'tis such a tedious rascal. So ha wi'ye.  Exeunt Maskers. World. 
Thou hast well fitted 'em, though thou mad'st 'em stay.  Neu. 
I forbid any man to mend 'em Sir, good night unto your worship.  Ne. 
Alas Sir, I have another to set forth  
This very night: By your leave my Masters.  Exit Nevill through them. 2 Ser. 
By your leave, by your leave, you'll let a man go out?  World. 
Now go with me, and let all in that will.  Exit Sir john with them, & ran in three or four. Enter 2. or 3. setting 3. or 4. Chairs, & 4 or 5. stools. Loud Music, in which time, enter Sir john Worldly, Sir Innocent, Bellafront, Lucida, Kate, my Lady ninny, Mrs. Wagtaile, they seat themselves, Lady ninny offers at two or three Chairs; at last finds the great one: they point at her and laugh. assoon, as she is set, she drinks of her bowl, the Music plays, and they enter. After one strain of the Music, Scudmore takes Bellafront, who seems unwilling to dance, Count takes Lucida, Pendant Kate, Sir Abraham. Mistress Wagtaile, Scudmore as they stand, the other Courting too, whispers as follows. Scud. 
I am your Scudmore. Soft Music.  Bell. 
Ha?  Scud. 
By heaven I am,  
Be ruled by me in all things.  Bell. 
even to death.  Abra. 
'sfoot did you not know me by my purse?  Wag. 
I should ne'er have known you by that, for you wear it on your head, and other folks in their pockets.  La: Nin. 
Which is my Lord I pray?  World. 
The second man  
Young Nevill leads.  S. In. 
And where's Sir. Abraham?  World. 
He with the terrible visage.  La. Nin. 
Now out upon him to disfigure himself so,  
And 'twere not for my bottle, I should swoon.  Music, & they dance, the second strain, in which Scudm: goes away with her. Om. Spect. 
Good very good.  The other four dance, another strain, honour and end. Count. 
But where's the Bride and Nevill?  Om. 
Ha.  Abra. 
Ware tricks.  World. 
Oh, there they come, it was their parts to do so  Enter Scudmore unvizarded, Bellafront with Pistols, and the right Parson. Count. 
This Nevill, this is Scudmore.  Om. 
How?  Count. 
But here's my Lady,  Scud. 
No my Gentlewoman.  Abra. 
zounds Treason, I smell powder.  Bell. 
In short know, that I am married to this Gent.  
To whom I was contracted long ago:  
This Priest the inviolable knot hath tied,  
What ease I find being un-ladified.  Count. 
What Riddle's this?  S. Inno. 
Ware the last Statute of two Husbands.  Scud. 
Bellafront, pish.  Count. 
This is the very Priest that married me,  
Is it not Sister?  Ne. 
No.  Enter Nevill like the parson too. Abra 
Lord bless us here is conjuring,  
Lend me your Aquavitae bottle good Mother.  World. 
Heyday, the world's turned up side down, I have heard and seen two or three Benefices to one Priest, or more, But two Priests to one Benefice, ne'er before.  Pen. 
Married not you the Earl?  Par. 
Bonafide, no.  World. 
You did then?  Neu. 
Yes.  Count. 
I have the Privilege then.  World. 
Right, you were married first.  Scud. 
Sir john you dote,  
This is a Devil in a parson's coat.  Nevil puts off the priest's Weeds, & has a devils rob under. Om. 
A pretty Emblem.  Neu. 
Who married her, or would have caused her marry  
To any man but this, no better was,  
Let circumstances be examined,  
Yet here's one more, and now I hope you all,  
Perceive my marrying not Cannon call.  Slips off his devils weeds. Om. 
Nevill, whoop.  Count. 
Heart, what a deal a Knavery a priest's cloak can hide, if it be not one of the honestest friendliest cozenages that ere I saw, I am no Lord.  Kate. 
Life, I am not married then in earnest.  Neu. 
So Mistress Kate, I kept you for myself.  World. 
It boots not to be angry.  S. In. La. 
No faith Sir john.  Enter Strange with Powts on his back. 2 Ser. 
Whether will you go with your Calf on your back Sir.  World. 
Now more knavery yet.  Stran. 
Prithee forbear, or I shall do thee mischief: By your leave, here's some sad to your merriment: know you this Captain?  Om. 
Yes very well.  Kate 
Oh Sister, here's the Villain slandered me.  Stran. 
You see he cannot stand to't.  Abra. 
Is he hurt in the arm too?  Stran. 
Yes.  Abra. 
Why then by Gods-lid thou art a base Rogue, I knew I should live to tell thee so.  La. Nin. 
Sir Abraham I say.  Om. 
Heaven is just.  Cap. 
What a Rogue are you, is this the Surgeon you would carry me to?  Stra. 
Confess your slander, and I will I swear.  Cap. 
Nay 'tis no matter, I'll cry quittance with you,  
Forgive me Mrs. Kate, and know all people  
I lied not with her, but belied her once,  
And to my recantation, that same Soldier  
enforced my hand. They all look on the Paper.  Stra. 
Yes, here 'tis Mistress Kate.  Cap. 
I see now how I am cheated, love him well,  
He has redeemed your honour with his sword.  World. 
But where is Strange my Son, oh were he here He should be married new to make all sure.  Kate. 
Oh my Divining Spirit, he's gone to Sea.  Cap. 
This cunning in her is exceeding good,  
Your Son, your husband, Strange is murmured.  Om. 
How?  Stran. 
Peace, peace, for heavens sake peace,  
Come Sir, I'll carry you to a Surgeon,  
here's Gold to stop thy throat, for Godsake peace.  Cap. 
Sirrah, you have brought me to a Surgeon already, I'll be even with you.  Kate. 
Of all men living I could marry thee,  
Were not my heart given to another man,  
Sir you did speak of Strange.  Cap. 
These women are as crafty as the Devil,  
Yes, I did speak of him, Sir john, my Lord,  
Know Strange is murmured by that villains hand,  
And by his wife's consent.  Om. 
How?  World. 
God forbid.  Cap. 
Search presently the Closet and the Vault,  
There you shall find his body, 'tis too true,  
The reason all may guess, her husband wanting  
Spirit to do on me what he hath done,  
In hope to marry her, he hath murmured him.  Kate. 
To marry me, no villain I do hate him  
On this report, worse than I do thyself,  
And may the plagues and Tortures of a Land  
seize me, if this be not an Innocent hand.  World. 
Fore-God 'tis most like truth, son Scudmore pray  
Look to this fellow, Gentlemen assist,  
Torches, some Torches, I'll go search myself,  S. In. 
I will assist you.  Count. 
But I pray Sir how came you unto this knowledge  Cap. 
From his mouth.  Stran. 
I'll save your labour, and discover all:  
Thou perjured villain, didst not swear thou wouldst not discover me.  Cap. 
I but swore in jest.  Sir. 
Nay but remember thou didst wish Strange living  
If ever thou didst tell, Sir all is true,  
And would my punishment would ease my Conscience.  World. 
To Newgate with him hence, take her along,  
Out Murderers, whore thou art no child of mine,  
Fetch Constable and Officers, Away.  Stran. 
Sir do but hear me speak.  World. 
Fetch Officers.  Cap. 
Go fetch a Surgeon.  Stra, 
Sir, you are then too violent, I will bail her.  Kate. 
Oh my dear Strange. Discovers himself.  World, 
My Son.  Scud. Luci. Bell. 
Brother.  Om. 
Young Strange.  Cap. 
Heart, I was never sick before, help me now to a  
Surgeon, or I shall swoon instantly. As 2 leads him he speaks  
Thou were't borne a Roman-Citizen, fare thee well,  
And farewell love, and women, ye diseases,  
My horse and sword shall be my Mistresses,  
My Horse I'll court, my sword shall lie with me. Exit  Stra. 
The way to cure lust, is to bleed I see.  Count. 
Tell him all Scudmore, whilst I go a-wooing again, Sir john will you go along, and my two worshipful Elders, I pray be you witnesses, Priest go Neu. Scud. Bell. Stra. Kate. Whispers in one part. Pend. Sir Abra. & Wag. in another .not you away, Heart I have so ruminated on a Wife, that I must have one this night, or I shall run proud. Mistress Lucida, you did once love me, if you do still, no more words, but give me your hand, why are ye doubtful?  Abra. 
near look upon me M. Lucida, Time was, Time is, and Times past, I'll none of you now, I am otherwise provided.  Pend. 
Well spoken Brazen head, now or never Sir Abraham.  Abra. 
Then first as duty binds, I crave consent  
Of my two parents dear: If I, say so;  
If not, I'll ha' her, whether you will or no.  S. In. 
How. how.  La. Nin. 
I hope you will not  Abra. 
Mam, I am resolved, you have a humour of your Aquavitae bottle, why should not I have a humour in a wife?  World. 
An old man were a fitter match for her,  
He would make much of her.  Abra. 
Much on her, I know not what ye call much making on her, I am sure I have made two on her.  Pend. 
And that an old man cannot do I hope.  Ne. 
Oh thou beyond Lawrence of Lancashire.  S. In. 
Come, come, you shall not.  Abra. 
Speak not in vain, I am too sure to change,  
For hand and heart are sure,  
Ecce signum, and this have I done, and never lay with her  World. 
Nay, then 'tis too late,  
'tis sure, 'tis vane to cross the will of Fate.  Sir In. La. 
Well, well, God bless you. Ab & Wag kneel  Abra. 
Thanks reverend couple, and God bless withal  
The little Ninny that herein doth sprawl,  
Parson you shall dispatch us presently:  
Lord how soberly you stand.  Par. 
Now truly I could near stand drunk in my life.  Stra. 
Strange and most fortunate, we must have a new tuck then.  Count. 
Is it a match?  Luci. 
'tis done.  Count. 
Then Bacchus squeeze Grapes with a plenteous hand.  
Parson you'll take some pains with us tonight;  
Come Brothers come, fly Willow to the woods,  
And like the Sea, for healths let's drink whole floods.  Stra. 
I consecrate my deed unto this City,  
And hope to live myself, to see the day,  
It shall be shown to people in a play.  Scud. 
And may all true love have like happy end,  
Women forgive me; Men, admire my Friend.  World. 
On Parson on, and Boy outvoice the Music,  
ne'er was so much (what cannot heavenly powers,)  
Done and undone, and done in twelve short hours.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.