THE NIGHTWALKER, OR THE LITTLE thief.  
A COMEDY, As it was presented by her Majesty's Servants, at the Private House in Drury Lane.  
Written by John Fletcher. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by Tho. Cotes, for Andrew crook, and William Cooke: 1640.   

TO The worthily-deserving all his ingenuous Attributes WILLIAM HUDSON Esq.  
Worthy Sir,  
I Should derogate from your worth, to doubt of your pardon, and if should wrong too much your goodness to present the endeavours of some frothy brain to the trial of your judgement, when the More ignorant world had already condemned it; but sir, this is one of the coheirs of much admired, much lamented Fletcher, whose matchless Fancies are fit only for the perusal of such as you, who have candour and knowledge so united, that there cannot be a reprieve for those Poems you condemn; accept this weak Testimony of my Service, and as yours by familiar acquaintance with them, favourably entertain these witty conceits particularly presented unto you, by him who shall glory in nothing more than to be styled  
The Honourer of Your Virtues, A.C.   


The Actors Names.  
TOm Lurcher.  
Jack Wildbrain.  
Gentlemen.  
Justice Algripe.  
Frank Hartlove.  
Toby.  
Servants.  
Sexton.  
Bell-Ringers.  
Boy.  
A Lady, Mother to Maria.  
Maria.  
Nurse.  
Mistress Newlove.  
Women.  
Mistress.    

THE NIGHTWALKER: OR, The little Thief.  


Actus primus, Scena prima  Enter Tom Lurcher and jack Wildbrain. Lurc. 
Jack.  Wild. 
What wind brought thee hither?  
In what old hollow tree, or rotten wall  
Hast thou been like a Swallow all this Winter,  
Where hast thou been man?  Lur. 
Following the Blow.  Wild. 
What Blow? Thou hast no Land,  
steal's thy own purchase.  Lur. 
The best inheritance.  Wild. 
Not in my opinion,  
Thou hadst five hundred pound a year.  Lur. 
'tis gone,  
Prithee no more on't, have I not told thee,  
And oftentimes, nature made all men equal,  
Her distribution to each child alike;  
Till labour came and thrust a new Will in,  
Which I allow not: till men won a privilege  
By that they call endeavour, which indeed  
Is nothing but a lawful Cozenage,  
An allowed way to cheat, why should my neighbour  
That hath no more soul than his Horsekeeper,  
Nor bounteous faculties above a Broom man,  
Have forty thousand pound, and I four groats;  
Why should he keep it?  Wil. 
Thy old opinion still.  Lur. 
Why should that Scrivener  
That ne'er writ reason in his life, nor any thing  
That time e'er gloried in, that never knew  
How to keep any courtesy concealed  
But Noverint universt must proclaim it,  
Purchase perpetually, and I a rascal:  
Consider this, why should that mouldy Cobbler  
Marry his daughter to a wealthy Merchant,  
And give five thousand pound, is this good justice?  
Because he has a tougher constitution;  
Can feed upon old songs, and save his money,  
Therefore must I go beg?  Wil. 
What's this to thee?  
Thou canst not mend it, if thou be'st determined  
To rob all like a tyrant, yet take heed  
A keener justice do not overtake thee,  
And catch you in a noose.  Lur. 
I am no Woodcock,  
He that shall sit down frighted with that foolery  
Is not worth pity, let me alone to shuffle;  
Thou art for wenching.  Wil. 
For beauty I, a safe course,  
No halter hangs in my way, I defy it.  Lur. 
But a worse fate, a wilful poverty,  
For where thou 'gainst by one that indeed loves thee,  
A thousand will draw from thee, 'tis thy destiny;  
One is a kind of weeping cross Jack,  
A gentle purgatory, do not fling at all,  
You'll pay the Box so often, till thou perish.  Wil. 
Take you no care for that Sir, 'tis my pleasure,  
I will employ my wits a great deal faster  
Than you shall do your fingers, and my Loves,  
If I mistake not, shall prove riper harvest  
And handsomer, and come within less danger.  
Where's thy young sister?  Lur. 
I know not where she is, she is not worth caring for,  
She has no wit.  
Oh you'd be nibbling with her,  
she's far enough I hope, I know not where,  
she's not worth caring for, a sullen thing  
She would not take my counsel Jack,  
And so I parted from her.  Wil. 
Leave her to her wants?  Lur. 
I gave her a little money what I could spare,  
She had a mind tooth country, she is turned  
By this some farrier's dairy maid, I may meet her  
Riding from market one day twixt her Dorsers;  
If I do, by this hand I wonot spare  
Her butter pence.  Wil. 
Thou wilt not rob thy Sister.  Lur. 
She shall account me for her Eggs and Cheeses.  Wil. 
A pretty Girl, did not old Algripe love her,  
A very pretty Girl she was.  Lur. 
Some such thing,  
But he was too wise to fasten; let her pass.  Wil. 
Then where's thy Mistress?  Lur. 
Where you sha'not find her,  
Nor know what stuff she is made on, no indeed Sir,  
I chose her not for your use.  Wil. 
Sure she is handsome.  Lur. 
Yes indeed is she, she is very handsome, but that's all one  Wil. 
You'll come tooth marriage.  Lur. 
Is it today.  Wil. 
Now, now, they are come from Church now.  Lur. 
Any great preparation,  
Does Justice Algripe show his power.  Wil. 
Very glorious, and glorious people there.  Lur. 
I may meet with him yet ere I die as cunning as he is.  Wil. 
You may do good Tom at the marriage,  
We have Plate and dainty things.  Lur. 
Do you no harm Sir,  
For yet methinks the marriage should be marred  
If thou mayst have thy will, farewell, say nothing.  Exit Enter Gentlemen. Wil. 
You are welcome noble friends.  1. 
I thank you Sir,  
Nephew to the old Lady, his name is Wildbrain,  
And willed his best condition.  2. 
I have heard of him,  
I pray ye tell me Sir, is young Maria merry  
After her marriage rites? does she look lively?  
How does she like her man?  Wil. 
Very scurvily,  
And as untowardly she prepares herself,  
But 'tis mine aunt's will, that this dull mettle  
Must be mixed with her to allay her handsomeness.  1. 
Had Hartlove no fast friends?  Wil. 
His means are little,  
And where those littles are, as little comforts  
Ever keep company: I know she loves him,  
His memory beyond the hopes of—  
Beyond the Indies in his mouldy Cabinets,  
But 'tis her unhandsome fate.  Enter Hartlove. 1. 
I am sorry for't,  
Here comes poor Frank, nay we are friends, start not Sir,  
We see your willow and are sorry for,  
And though it be a wedding we are half mourners.  Fra. 
Good Gentlemen remember not my fortunes.  
They are not to be helped with words.  Wil. 
Look up man,  
A proper sensible fellow and shrink for a Wench,  
Are there no more? or is she all the handsomeness?  Fr. 
Prithee leave fooling.  Wil. 
Prithee leave thou whining,  
Have maids forgot to love?  Fr. 
You are injurious.  Wil. 
Let 'em alone a while, they'll follow thee.  1. 
Come good Frank,  
Forget now, since there is no remedy,  
And show a merry face, as wise men would do.  2. 
Be a free guest, and think not of those passages.  Wil. 
Think how to nick him home, thou know'st she dotes on thee;  
Graft me a dainty meddler on his crabstock;  
Pay me the dreaming puppy.  Fr. 
Well, make your mirth, the whilst I bear my misery;  
Honest minds would ha' better thoughts.  Wil. 
I am her kinsman,  
And love her well, am tender of her youth,  
Yet honest Frank, before I would have that stinkard,  
That walking rotten tomb, enjoy her maidenhead.  Fr. 
Prithee leave mocking.  Wil. 
Prithee Frank believe me,  
Go to consider, hark, they knock to dinner,  Knock within. 
Come wilt thou go?  2. 
I prithee Frank go with us,  
And laugh and dance as we do.  Fr. 
You are light Gentlemen,  
Nothing to weigh your hearts, pray give me leave,  
I'll come and see, and take my leave.  Wil. 
we'll look for you,  
Do not despair, I have a trick yet.  Exit. Fr. 
Yes,  
When I am mischievous I will believe your projects:  
She is gone, for ever gone, I cannot help it,  
My hopes and all my happiness gone with her.  
Gone like a pleasing dream: what mirth and jollity  
Reigns round about this house? how every office  
sweets with new joys, can she be merry too?  
Is all this pleasure set by her appointment?  
Sure she has a false heart then; still they grow louder  
The old man's god, his gold, has won upon her  
(Light hearted Cordial gold) and all my services  
That offered naked truth, are clean forgotten:  
Yet if she were compelled, but it cannot be,  
If I could but imagine her will mine,  Enter Lady and Wildbrain. 
Although he had her body.  La. 
He shall come in.  
Walk without doors o' this day, though an enemy,  
It must not be.  Wil. 
You must compel him Madam.  La. 
No she shall fetch him in, Nephew it shall be so.  Wil. 
It will be fittest.  Exit. Fr. 
Can fair Maria look again upon me?  
Can there be so much impudence in sweetness?  Enter Maria. 
Or has she got a strong heart to defy me?  
She comes herself: how rich she is in Jewels!  
methinks they show like frozen icicles,  
Cold winter had hung on her, how the Roses  
That kept continual spring within her cheeks  
Are withered with the old man's dull embraces?  
She would speak to me. I can sigh too Lady  
But from a sounder heart: yes, and can weep too  
But 'tis for you, that ever I believed you,  
Tears of more pious value then your marriage;  
You would encase yourself, and I must credit you,  
So much my old obedience compels from me;  
Go, and forget me, and my poverty,  
I need not bid you, you're too perfect that way:  
But still remember that I loved Maria,  
Loved with a loyal love, nay turn not from me,  
I will not ask a treare more, you are bountiful,  
Go and rejoice, and I will wait upon you  
That little of my life left.  Mar. 
Good Sir hear me,  
What has been done, was the act of my obedience  
And not my will: forced from me by my parents,  
Now 'tis done, do as I do, bear it handsomely  
And if there can be more society  
Without dishonour to my tie of marriage  
Or place for noble love, I shall love you still,  
You had the first, the last, had my will prospered;  
You talk of little time of life: dear Frank,  
Certain I am not married for eternity,  
The joy my marriage brings tells me I am mortal  
And shorter lived than you, else I were miserable;  
Nor can the gold and ease his age hath brought me  
Add what I coveted, content, go with me,  
They seek a day of joy, prithee let's show it  
Though it be forced, and by this kiss believe me  
however, I must live at his command now,  
I'll die at yours.  Fr. 
I have enough, I'll honour ye.  Exeunt. Enter Lurcher. Lur. 
Here are my trinkets, and this lusty marriage  
I mean to visit, I have shift of all sorts,  
And here are thousand wheels to set 'em working,  
I am very merry, for I know this wedding  
Will yield me lusty pillage, if mad wild-goose  
That deboshed rogue keep but his ancient revels  
And breed a hubbub in the house I am happy.  Enter Boy. 
Now what are you?  Boy. 
A poor distressed boy Sir,  
Friendless and comfortless, that would entreat  
Some charity and kindness from your worship,  
I would fain serve Sir, and as fain endeavour  
With duteous labour to deserve the love  
Of that good Gentleman shall entertain me.  Lur. 
A pretty Boy, but of too mild a breeding,  
Too tender and too bashful a behaviour,  
What canst thou do?  Boy. 
I can learn any thing  
That's good and honest, and shall please Master.  Lur. 
He blushes as he speaks, and that I like not,  
I love a bold and secure confidence,  
An impudence that one may trust, this boy now  
Had I instructed him had been a Jewel,  
A treasure for my use, thou canst not lie.  Boy. 
I would not willingly.  Lur. 
Nor thou hast no wit  
To dissemble neatly.  Boy. 
Do you love such boys, Sir?  Lur. 
Oh mainly, mainly, I would have my boy impudent,  
Outface all truth, yet do it piously:  
Like Proteus, cast himself into all forms,  
As sudden and as nimble as his thoughts,  
Blench at no danger, though it be the Gallows,  
Nor make no conscience of a cozenage  
Though it be i'th' Church; your soft, demure, still children—  
Are good for nothing, but to get long graces—  
And sing songs to dull tunes; I would keep thee  
And cherish thee, hadst thou any active quality,  
And be a tender master to thy knavery,  
But thou art not for my use.  Boy. 
Do you speak this seriously?  Lur. 
Yes indeed do I.  Boy. 
Would you have your Boy Sir  
Read in these moral mischiefs?  Lur. 
Now thou movest me.  Boy. 
And be a well trained youth in all activities?  Lur. 
By any means.  Boy. 
Or do you this to try me,  
Fearing a proneness.  Lur. 
I speak this to make thee.  Boy. 
Then take me Sir, and cherish me and love me;  
You have me what you would: believe me Sir  
I can do any thing for your advantage,  
I guess at what you mean; I can lie naturally,  
As easily, as I can sleep Sir, and securely:  
As naturally I can steal too.  Lur. 
That I am glad on,  
Right heartily glad on, hold thee there, thou art excellent.  Boy. 
Steal any thing from anybody living.  Lur. 
Not from thy Master.  Bo. 
That's mine own body.  
And must not be.  Lur. 
The Boy mends mightily.  Boy. 
A rich man, that like snow, heaps up his moneys  
I have a kind of pious zeal to meet still;  
A fool that not deserves 'em, I take pity on,  
For fear he should run mad, and so I ease him.  Lur. 
Excellent boy, and able to instruct me,  
Of my own nature just.  Boy. 
I scorn all hazard,  
And on the edge of danger I do best sir,  
I have a thousand faces to deceive,  
And to those twice so many tongues to flatter,  
An impudence no brass was ever tougher,  
And for my conscience.  Lur. 
Peace, I ha' found a Jewel,  
A Jewel all the Indies cannot match,  
And thou shalt feel—  Boy. 
This title, and I ha' done sir;  
I never can confess, I ha' that spell on me;  
And such rare modesties before a Magistrate,  
Such Innocence to catch a Judge, such ignorance.  Lur. 
I'll learn of thee, thou art my own, come Boy  
I'll give thee action presently.  Boy. 
Have at you.  Lur. 
What must I call thee  Boy. 
Snap sir.  Lur. 
'tis most natural  
A name borne to thee, sure thou art a Fairy,  
Show but thy skill, and I shall make thee happy.  Enter Lady, Nurse, Mistress Newlove, Tebia. La. 
Where be these knaves? who strews up all the liveries,  
Is the Bride's bed made?  Tob. 
Yes Madam and a bell  
Hung under it artificially.  La. 
Out knave out  
Must we have larums now?  Tob. 
A little warning  
That we may know when to begin our healths Madam,  
The Justice is a kind of old Jade Madam,  
That will go merriest with a bell.  La. 
All the house drunk.  Tob. 
This is a day of Jubilee.  La. 
Are the best hangings up, and the plate set out?  
Who makes the Posset, Nurse?  Nur. 
The dairy maid,  
And she'll put that in will make him caper:  
Well Madam, well, you might ha' chose another,  
A handsomer for your years.  La. 
Peace he is rich Nurse,  
He is rich, and that's beauty.  Nur. 
I am sure he is rotten,  
Would he had been hanged when he first saw her. Termagant!  La. 
What an angry quean is this, where,  
Who looks to him?  To. 
He is very merry Madam  
M. Wildbrain, has him in hand, i'th' bottom o'th' cellar  
He sighs and tipples.  Nur. 
Alas good Gentleman,  
My hearts sore for thee.  La. 
Sorrow must have his course, sirrah  
Give him some Sack to dry up his remembrance,  
How does the Bridegroom, I am afraid of him.  Nur. 
He is a trim youth to be tender of, hemp take him.  
Must my sweet new blown Rose find such a winter  
Before her spring be near.  La. 
Peace, peace, thou art foolish.  Nur. 
And dances like a Town top: and reels, and hobbles.  La. 
Alas, good Gentleman, give him not much wine.  Tom. 
He shall ha' none by my consent.  La. 
Are the women comforting my daughter?  New. 
Yes, yes, Madam,  
And reading to her a pattern of true patience,  
They read and pray for her too.  Nur. 
They had need,  
Ye had better marry her to her grave a great deal:  
There will be peace and rest, alas poor gentlewoman,  
Must she become a Nurse now in her tenderness?  
Well Madam well my heart bleeds.  La. 
Thou art a fool still  Nur. 
Pray heaven I be.  La. 
And an old fool to be vexed thus.  
'tis late she must to bed, go knave be merry,  
Drink for a Boy, away to all your charges.  Enter Wildbrain, and Frank Heartlove. Wil. 
Do as thou wot, but if thou dost refuse it  
Thou art the stupidest ass, there's no long arguing,  
Time is too precious Frank.  Fr. 
I am hot with wine,  
And apt now to believe, but if thou dost this  
Out of a villainy, to make me wrong her,  
As thou art prone enough.  Wil. 
Does she not love thee?  
Did she not cry down right e'en now to part with thee?  
Had she not swooned if I had not caught her?  
Canst thou have more?  Fr. 
I must confess all this.  Wil. 
Do not stand prating, and misdoubting, casting,  
If she go from thee now, she's lost for ever;  
Now now she's going, she that loves thee going,  
She whom thou lov'st.  Fr. 
Pray let me think a little.  Wi. 
There is no leisure; think when thou hast embraced her  
Can she imagine thou didst ever honour her,  
Ever believe thy oaths, that tamely sufferest  
An old dry ham of horse flesh to enjoy her  
Enjoy her Maiden head; take but that from her  
That we may tell posterity a man had it,  
A handsome man, a gentleman, a young man,  
To save the honour of our house, the credit,  
'tis no great matter I desire.  Fr. 
I hear you.  Wi. 
Free us both from the fear of breeding fowls  
And ophs, got by this shadow: we talk too long.  Fr. 
She is going now to bed, among the women  
What opportunity can I have to meet her?  Wil. 
Let me alone, hast thou a will? speak soundly,  
Speak discreetly, speak home and handsomely,  
Is't not pity, nay misery, nay infamy to leave  
So rare a pie to be cut up by a rascal.  Fr. 
I will go presently, now, now, I stay thee.  Wi. 
Such a dainty do, to be taken  
By one that knows not neck beef from a Pheasant,  
Nor cannot relish bragget from Ambrosia.  
Is it not conscience.  Fr. 
Yes, yes, now I feel it.  Wi. 
A meritorious thing.  Fr. 
Good Father wild-goose,  
I do confess it.  Wil. 
Come then follow me  
And pluck a man's heart up, I'll lock thee privately  
Where she alone shall presently pass by,  
None near to interrupt thee but be sure;  Fr. 
I shall be sure enough, lead on, and crown me.  Wi. 
No wringings in your mind now as you love me.  Ex. Enter Lady, Maria, justice. Gent. Nurse, Newlove. La. 
'tis time you were a-bed.  In. 
I prithee sweet heart  
Consider my necessity, why art sad?  
I must tell you a tale in your ear anon.  Nur. 
Of Tom Thumb.  
I believe that will prove your stiffest story.  New. 
I pity the young wench.  1. 
And so do I too.  2. 
Come, old sticks take fire.  1. 
But the Plague is, he'll burn out instantly;  
Give him another cup.  2. 
Those are but flashes,  
A run of sack won't set him high enough.  
Will ye to bed?  M. 
I must.  1. 
Come have a good heart,  
And win him like a bowl to lie close to you,  
Make your best use.  Ju. 
Nay prithee Duck go instantly,  
I'll dance a Jig or two to warm my body.  Enter Wildbrain. Wild 
'tis almost midnight.  La. 
Prithee to bed Maria.  Wil. 
Go you afore, and let the Ladies follow,  
And leave her to her thoughts a while, there must be  
A time of taking leave of the same fooleries  
Bewailing others maidenheads.  La. 
Come then,  
we'll wait in the next room.  Iu. 
Do not tarry  
For if thou dost, by my troth I shall fall asleep Mall.  Exit. Wi. 
Do, do, and dream of dotterels, get you to bed quickly  
And let us ha' no more stir, come no crying  
'tis too late now, carry yourself discreetly,  
The old thief loves thee dearly, that's the benefit.  
For the rest you must make your own play, Nay not that way,  
they'll pull ye all to pieces, for your whim-whams,  
Your garters and your gloves, go modestly  
And privately steal to bed, 'tis very late Mall,  
For if you go by them such a new 'larum.  Ma. 
I know not which way to avoid 'em.  Wi. 
This way  
This through the Cloisters: and so steal to bed,  
When you are there once, all will separate  
And give ye rest, I came out of my pity  
To show you this.  Ma. 
I thank you.  Wi. 
Here's the keys  
Go presently and lock the doors fast after ye,  
That none shall follow.  Ma. 
Good night.  Wi. 
Goodnight sweet x,  
A good, and sweet night, or I'll curse thee Frank.  Exit. Enter Frank Hartlove. Fra. 
She stays long, sure young wild-goose has abused me,  
He has made sport wi'me, I may yet get out again,  
And I may see his face once more, I ha' soul intentions,  
But they are drawn on by a fouler dealing.  Enter Maria. 
Hark, hark, it was the door,  
Something comes this way, wondrous still, and stealing  
May be some walking spirit to affright me.  Ma. 
Oh heaven my fortune.  Fr. 
'tis her voice, stay.  Ma. 
Save me  
Bless me you better powers.  Fr. 
I am no Devil.  Ma. 
youare little better to disturb me now.  Pr. 
My name is Hartlove  Ma. 
Fie, fie, worthy friend,  
Fie noble sir.  Fr. 
I must talk farther with ye  
You know my fair affection.  Ma. 
So preserve it,  
You know I am married now, for shame be civiller,  
Not all the earth shall make me.  Fr. 
Pray walk this way,  
And if you ever loved me.  Ma. 
Take heed Frank  
How you divert that love to hate, go home prithee.  Fr. 
Shall he enjoy that sweet?  Mar. 
Nay pray unhand me.  Fr. 
He that ne'er felt what love was.  Ma. 
Then I charge you  
Stand further off.  Fr. 
I am tame, but let me walk wi'ye,  
Talk but a minute.  Mar. 
So your talk be honest  
And my untainted honour suffer not  
I'll walk a turn or two.  Fr. 
Give me your hand then.  Exit. Enter Wildbrain, justice, Lady, Nurse, Gent. Women, Newlove. Iust. 
she's not in her Chamber.  Lad. 
She is not here.  Wil. 
And I'll tell you what I dreamed  Iu. 
Give me a Torch.  1 and G. 
Be not too hasty sir.  Wil. 
Nay let him go,  
For if my dream be true, he must be speedy,  
He will be tricked, and blazed else.  Nur. 
As I am a woman  
I cannot blame her if she take her liberty,  
Would she would make thee cuckold thou old bully,  
A notorious cuckold for tormenting her.  La. 
I'll hang her then.  Nur. 
I'll bless her then, she does Justice,  
Is this old stinking dogs flesh for her diet?  Wil. 
Prithee honest Nurse do not fret too much  
For fear I dream you'll hang yourself too.  Iust. 
The Cloister?  Wil. 
Such was my fancy, I do not say 'tis true,  
Nor do I bid you be too confident.  Iu. 
Where are the keys, the keys I say.  Wil. 
I dreamed she had 'em to lock herself in.  Nur. 
What a devil do you mean?  Enter Servant. Wil. 
No harm good Nurse be patient  Ser. 
They are not in the window, where they use to be.  Wil. 
What foolish dreams are these?  Iu. 
I am mad.  Wil. 
I hope so.  
If you be not mad, I'll do my best to make ye.  1. 
This is some trick.  2. 
I smell the wild-goose.  Iu. 
Come gentlemen, come quickly I beseech you,  
Quick as you can, this may be your case Gentlemen.  
And bring some lights, some lights.  Exit. Wi. 
Move faster, faster, you'll come too late else.  
I'll stay behind and pray for ye, I had rather she were dishonest,  
Than thou shouldst have her.  Enter Maria and Frank. Mar. 
You're most unmanly, yet I have some breath lest;  
And this steel to defend me, come not near me,  
For if you offer but another violence,  
As I have life I'll kill you, if I miss that,  
Upon my own heart will I execute,  
And let that fair belief out, I had of you.  Fra. 
Most virtuous Maid, I have done, forgive my follies:  
Pardon, O pardon, I now see my wickedness,  
And what a monstrous shape it puts upon me,  
On your fair hand I seal.  Enter. Iu. 
Down with the door.  Ma. 
We are betrayed, oh Frank, Frank.  Fra. 
I'll die for ye  
Rather than you shall suffer, I'll——  Iu. 
Now Enter.  
Enter sweet Gentlemen, mine eyes, mine eyes,  
Oh how my head aches.  Enter All. 1. 
Is it possible?  2. 
Hold her, she sinks.  Ma. 
A plot upon my honour  
To poison my fair name, a studied villainy,  
Farewell, as I have hope of peace, I am honest,  Iu. 
My brains, my brains, my monstrous brains, they bud sure.  Nu. 
She is gone, she is gone.  Iu. 
A handsome riddance of her.  
Would I could as easily lose her memory.  Nur. 
Is this the sweet of Marriage, have I bred thee  
For this reward?  1. 
Hold, hold, he's desperate too.  Ju. 
Be sure ye hold him fast, we'll bind him over  
To the next Sessions, and if I can I'll hang him.  Fr. 
Nay then I'll live to be a terror to thee,  
Sweet Virgin Rise farewell: heaven has thy beauty,  
That's only fit for heaven. I'll live a little  
To find the villain out that wrought this injury,  
And then most blessed soul, I'll climb up to thee.  
Farewell, I feel myself another creature.  Exit. La. 
Oh misery of miseries.  Nu. 
I told ye Madam.  La. 
Carry her in, you will pay back her portion.  Iu. 
No not a penny, pay me back my credit  
And I'll condition weigh.  La. 
A sad wedding  
Her grave must be her Bridal bed, oh Mall,  
Would I had wed thee to thy own content  
Than I had had thee still.  Iu. 
I am mad, farewell,  
Another wanton wife will prove a hell.  Exeunt.   

Actus Secundus.  Enter Tom Lurch. and his Boy. Lur. 
What hast thou done?  Boy. 
I have walked through all the lodgings.  
A silence as if death dwelled there inhabits.  Lur. 
What hast thou seen?  Boy. 
Nought but a sad confusion thing  
Every left in such a loose disorder  
That were there twenty thieves, they would be laden.  Lu. 
'tis very well, I like thy care, but 'tis strange  
A wedding night should be so solitary.  Boy. 
Certainly there is some cause, some death or sickness  
Is fall'n suddenly upon some friend,  
Or some strange news is come.  Lu. 
Are they all a-bed?  Boy. 
I think so, and sound asleep, unless it be  
Some women that keep watch in a low parlour,  
And drink, and weep, I know not to what end.  Lur. 
Where's all the plate?  Boy. 
Why locked up in that room.  
I saw the old Lady, ere she went to bed  
Put up her plate, and some of the rich hangings  
In a small long chest, her chain and rings are there too,  
It stands close by the Table on a form.  Lur. 
'twas a good notice, didst thou see the men.  Boy. 
I saw them sad too, and all take their leaves,  
But what they said I was too far to hear sir.  Lur. 
'tis daintily discovered, we shall certainly  
Have a most prosperous night, which way.  Boy. 
A close one,  
A back door, that the women have left open,  
To go in and out to fetch necessaries,  
Close on the Garden side.  Lur. 
I love thy diligence,  
Wert thou not fearful.  Boy. 
Fearful? I'll be hanged first.  Lur. 
Say they had spied thee.  Boy. 
I was then determined  
To have cried down right too, and have kept 'em company,  
As one that had an interest in their sadness,  
Or made an errand to I know not whom sir.  Lur. 
My dainty Boy, let us discharge, that plate  
Makes a perpetual motion in my fingers  
Till I have fast hold of it.  Bo. 
Pray be wise sir, do't handsomely, be not greedy,  
Let's handle it with such an excellence  
As if we would bring thieving into honour:  
We must disguise, to fright these reverend watches.  Lur. 
Still my blessed Boy.  Boy. 
And clear the Room of drunken Jealousies,  
The chest is of some weight, and we may make  
Such noise i'th' carriage we may be snapped.  Lur. 
Come open, here's a devil's face.  Boy. 
No, no, sir, we'll have no shape so terrible,  
We will not do the devil so much pleasure,  
To have him face our plot.  Lur. 
A winding sheet then.  Boy. 
That's too cold a shift,  
I would not wear the reward of my wickedness,  
I wonder you are an old thief, and no cunninger,  
Where's the long cloak?  Lur. 
Here, here.  Boy. 
Give me the turban  
And the false beard, I hear some coming this way,  
Stoop, stoop, and let me sit upon your shoulders  
And now as I direct: stay let 'em enter,  
And when I touch move forward, make no noise.  Enter Nurse and toby. Nur. 
Oh 'tis a sad time, all the burnt wine is drunk Nick.  To. 
We may thank your dry chaps for't, the Canaries gone too  
No substance for a sorrowful mind to work upon,  
I cannot mourn in beer, if she should walk now  
As discontented spirits are wont to do.  Nur. 
And meet us in the Cellar.  Tob. 
What sense have we with single beer against her?  
What heart can we defy the devil with?  Nur. 
The March beer's open.  To. 
A fortification of March Beer will do well,  
I must confess 'tis a most mighty Armour,  
For I presume I cannot pray.  Nur. 
Why Nicholas?  To. 
We Coachmen have such tumbling faiths, no prayers  
Can go an even pace.  Nur. 
Hold up your candle.  To. 
Verily Nurse, I have cried so much  
For my young Mistress, that is mortified,  
That if I have not more sack to support me,  
I shall even sleep, heigho, for another flagon;  
These burials and Christenings are the mournfulst matters,  
And they ask more drink.  Nur. 
Drink to a sad heart's needful.  To. 
Mine's ever sad, for I am ever dry Nurse.  Nur. 
methinks the light burns blue, I prithee snuff it  
There's a thief in't I think.  To. 
There may be one near it.  Nur. 
What's that that moves there, i'th' name of— Nicholas?  
That thing that walks.  To. 
Would I had a ladder to behold it,  
Mercy upon me, the Ghost of one o'th' Guard sure,  
'tis the Devil by his claws, he smells of Brimstone,  
Sure he farts fire, what an earthquake I have in me;  
Out with thy prayer book Nurse.  Nur. 
It fell i'th' frying-pan, and the Cats eat it.  Tob. 
I have no power to pray, it grows still longer,  
'tis Steeple high now, and it sails away Nurse,  
Let's call the Butler up, for he speaks Latin,  
And that will daunt the Devil: I am blasted,  
My bellies grown to nothing.  Nu. 
Fie, fly, toby.  Exit. Bo. 
So let them go, and whilst they are astonished  
Let us presently upon the rest now suddenly.  Lur. 
Off, off, and up again, when we are near the Parlour,  
Art sure thou know'st the Chest?  Boy. 
Though it were i'th' dark sir,  
I can go to't.  Lur. 
On then and be happy.  Exit. Enter toby. Tob. 
How my haunches quake? is the thing here still  
Now can I outdo any Button maker, at his own trade,  
I have fifteen fits of an Ague, Nurse, 'tis gone I hope  
The hard hearted woman has left me alone. Nurse—  
And she knows too I ha' but a lean Conscience to keep me company.  Noise within. 
The Devils among 'em in the parlour sure,  
The Ghost three stories high, he has the Nurse sure,  
He is boiling of her bones now, hark how she whistles:  
There's gentlewomen within too, how will they do?  
I'll to the Cook, for he was drunk last night,  
And now he is valiant, he's a kin toth' Devil too  
And fears no fire,  Enter Lurcher and Boy. Lur. 
No light?  Boy. 
None left sir,  
They are gone, and carried all the candles with 'em  
Their fright is infinite, let's make good use on't  
We must be quick sir, quick, or the house will rise else.  Lu. 
Was this the Chest?  Boy. 
Yes, yes.  Lur. 
There was two of 'em  
Or I mistake.  Boy. 
I know the right, no stay sir,  
Nor no discourse, but to our labour lustily,  
Put to your strength and make as little noise,  
Then presently out at: the back door.  Lur. 
Come Boy.  
Come happy child and let me hug thy excellence.  Exit. Enter Wildbrain. Wil, 
What thousand noises pass through all the rooms?  
What cries and hurries? sure the Devils drunk.  
And tumbles through the house, my villainies  
That never made me apprehend before  
Danger or fear, a little now molest me;  
My cousin's death sits heavy o'my conscience,  
Would I had been half hanged when I hammered it.  
I aimed at a living divorce, not a burial  
That Frank might have had some hope: hark still  
In every room confusion, they are all mad,  
Most certain all stark mad within the house  
A punishment inflicted for my lewdness,  
That I might have the more sense of my mischief  
And run the more mad too, my Aunt is hanged sure,  
Sure hanged herself, or else the fiend has fetched her;  
I heard a hundred cries, the Devil, the Devil,  
Then roaring and then tumbling, all the chambers  
Are a mere babell, or another bedlam.  
What should I think? I shake myself too:  
Can the Devil find no time, but when we are merry,  
Here's something comes.  Enter Newlove. New. 
Oh that I had some company,  
I care not what they were, to ease my misery,  
To comfort me,  Wil. 
whose's that?  New. 
Again? nay then receive  Wil. 
Hold, hold I am no fury.  
The Merchant's wife.  New. 
Are ye a man? pray heaven you be.  Wil. 
I am.  New. 
Alas I have met sir  
The strangest things too night.  Wil. 
Why do you stare.  New. 
Pray comfort me, and put your candle out  
For if I see the Spirit again I die for't.  
And hold me fast, for I shall shake to pieces else.  Wil. 
I'll warrant you, I'll hold ye,  
Hold ye as tenderly; I have put the light out,  
Retire into my Chamber, there I'll watch we ye,  
I'll keep you from all frights.  New. 
And will ye keep me.  Wil. 
Keep you as secure Lady.  New. 
You must not wrong me then, the devil will have us.  Wil. 
No, no, I'll love you, then the devil will fear us.  
For he fears all that love, pray come in quickly,  
For this is the malicious house he walks in,  
The hour he blasts sweet faces, lame the limbs in,  
Depraves the senses, now within this half hour  
He will have power to turn all Citizens wives  
Into strange creatures, Owls, and long-tailed monkey's  
Jays, Pies, and Parrots, quickly, I smell his brimstone.  New. 
It comes again I am gone, shift for yourself sir.  Exit. Wil. 
Sure this whole night is nothing but illusion,  
Here's nothing comes, all they are mad, dammed devil  
To drive her back again, 't had been thy policy  
To have let us alone, we might have done some fine thing  
To have made thy hell-hood laugh, 'tis a dainty wench  
If I had her again, not all your fellow goblins  
Nor all their claws should scratch her hence, I'll stay still,  
May be her fright will bring her back again,  
Yet I will hope.  Enter Toby. Tob. 
I can find no bed, nobody, nor no chamber,  
Sure they are all i'th' cellar, and I cannot find that neither,  
I am led up, and down like a tame ass, my light's out  
And I grope up and down like blindman buff  
And break my face, and break my pate.  Wil. 
It comes again sure  
I see the shadow, I'll have faster hold now,  
Sure she is mad, I long to lie with a madwoman,  
She must needs have rare new tricks.  Tob. 
I hear one whisper  
If it be the devil now to allure me into his clutches,  
For Devils have a kind of tone like crickets,  
I have a glimpse of her guise, 'tis she would steal by me,  
But I'll stand sure.  Tob. 
I have but a dram of wit left,  
And that's even ready to run, oh for my bed now.  Wil. 
She named a bed, I like that, she repents sure,  
Where is she now.  To. 
Who's that.  Wil. 
Are you there, In, In, In presently.  To. 
I feel his talents through me  
'tis an old haggard devil, what will he do with me?  Wil. 
Let me kiss thee first, quick, quick.  To. 
A lecherous Devil.  Wil. 
What a hairy whore 'tis, sure she has a muffler.  To. 
If I should have a young Satan by him, for I dare not deny him,  
In what case were I? who durst deliver me?  Wil. 
'tis but my fancy, she is the same, in quickly, gently my  
Sweet girl.  To. 
Sweet Devil be good to me.  Exeunt. Enter Lurch. and Boy. Lur. 
Where's my love Boy.  Boy. 
she's coming with a Candle  
To see our happy prize.  Lur. 
I am cruel weary.  Boy. 
I cannot blame ye, plate is very heavy  
To carry without light or help.  Lur. 
The fear too  
At every stumble to be discovered boy,  
At every cough to raise a Constable,  
Well, we'll be merry now.  Boy. 
We have some reason;  
Things compassed without feat or eminent danger  
Are too luxurious sir to live upon.  
Money and wealth got thus are as full venture,  
And carry in their natures as much merit  
As his, that digs 'em out o'th' mine, they last too  
Seasoned with doubts and dangers most deliciously,  
Riches that fall upon us are too ripe,  
And dull our appetites.  Lu. 
Most learned child.  Enter Mistress. Mi. 
You're welcome, where have you left it.  Lu. 
In the next room, hard by.  Mi. 
Is it plate all.  Lu. 
All, all, and Jewels, I am monstrous weary,  
Prithee let's go to bed.  Mi. 
Prithee let's see it first.  Lu. 
To morrows a new sweet.  Mi. 
Yes to melt it,  
But let's agree tonight, how it shall be handled  
I'll have a new gown.  Lur. 
shalt have any thing.  Mi. 
And such a riding suit as Mistress Newlove's,  
What though I be no gentlewoman borne,  
I hope I may achieve it by my carriage.  Lu. 
Thou sayst right.  Mi. 
You promised me a horse too, and a lackey.  Lur. 
Thou shalt have horses six, and a postilion.  Mi. 
That will be stately sweet heart, a postilion.  Lu. 
Nay we'll be in fashion, he shall ride before us  
In winter, with as much dirt would damp a musket,  
The inside of our coach shall be of scarlet.  Mi. 
That will be dear.  Lu. 
There is a die projecting  
Will make it cheap wench, come thou shalt have any thing.  Mi. 
Where is this chest, I long sweet to behold  
Our Jndies.  Boy. 
Mistress let's melt it first, and then 'tis fit  
You should dispose it, then 'tis safe from danger.  Mi. 
I'll be a loving Mistress to my boy too.  
Now fetch it in and let's rejoice upon't.  Boy. 
Hold your light Mistress, we may see to enter.  Mi. 
Ha what's here? call you this a chest?  Boy. 
We ha' missed sir.  
Our haste and want of light made us mistake?  Mi. 
A very Coffin.  Lu. 
How, a Coffin? Boy, 'tis very like one.  Boy. 
The devil owed us a shame, and now he has paid us.  Mi. 
Is this your Treasure?  Boy. 
Bury me alive in't.  Lu. 
It may be there is no room.  Mi. 
Nay, I will search it,  
I'll see what wealth's within,—— a woman's face,  
And a fair woman's.  Boy. 
I cannot tell sir,  
Belike this was the sadness that possessed 'em;  
The plate stood next, I'm sure.  Lur. 
I shake, I shake Boy, what a cold sweat—  Boy. 
This may work, what will become on's sir?  Mi. 
She is cold, dead cold: d'ye find 'your conscience,  
d'ye bring your Gillians hither— nay, she's punished,  
Your concealed love's cased up?  Lur. 
'tis Maria, the very same, the Bride, new horror!  Mi. 
These are fine tricks, you hope she's in a sound,  
But I'll take order she shall ne'er recover  
To bore my nose, come, take her up and bury her  
Quickly, or I'll cry out; take her up instantly.  Lu. 
Be not so hasty fool, that may undo us;  
we may be in for murder so; be patient,  
Thou seest she's dead, and cannot injure thee.  Mi. 
I am sure she shall not.  Boy. 
Be not sir dejected,  
Too much a strange mistake! this had not been else,  
It makes me almost weep to think upon't.  Lu. 
What an unlucky thief am I?  Mi. 
I'll no considering, either bestir yourself, or—  Lu. 
Hold.  Mi. 
Let it not stay to smell then, I will not  
Endure the stink of a Rival.  Lu. 
Would 'twere there again.  Boy. 
We must bury her.  Lu. 
But where o'th' sudden, or with what providence,  
That no eyes watch us.  Mi. 
Take a Spade and follow me.  
The next fair ground we meet, make the Church yard;  
As I live, I'll see her lodged.  Exit. Lu. 
It must be so,  
How heavy my heart is, I ha' no life left.  Boy. 
I am past thinking too, no understanding,  
That I should miss the right Chest.  Lu. 
The happy Chest.  Boy. 
That, which I saw and marked too.  Lu. 
Well passion won't help us,  
Had I twenty falls for this?  Boy. 
'twas my fault sir.  
And twenty thousand fears for this, o'th' devil,  
Now could I curse, well, we have her now,  
And must dispose her.  Enter Mistress. Mi. 
Hang both for two blind buzzards, here's a Spade  
Quickly or I'll call the neighbours.  
There's no remedy,  
Would the poor hungry prisoners had this pastry.  Exeunt. Enter justice, and a Servant with a light. Ser. 
'Twas a strange mischance sir.  Iu. 
Mischance, sayst? No 'twas happiness to me,  
There's so much charge saved, I have her portion,  
I'll marry twenty more on such conditions.  Ser. 
Did it not trouble you sir,  
To see her dead?  Iu. 
Not much, I thank my conscience;  
I was tormented till that happened, furies  
Were in my brain to think myself a cuckold  
At that time of the night:  
When I come home, I charge you shut my doors,  
Locks, bolts, and bars, are little enough to secure me,  Ser. 
Why, and please you?  Iu. 
Fool to ask that question;  
To keep out women, I expect her mother  
Will visit me with her clamours, oh I hate  
Their noise, and do abhor the whole sex heartily;  
They are all walking Devils, Harpies, I will study  
A week together how to rail sufficiently,  
Upon 'em all, and that I may be furnished,  
Thou shalt buy all the railing Books and Ballads,  
That Malice hath invented against women,  
I will read nothing else, and practise 'em,  
Till I grow fat with curses.  Ser. 
If you'll go  
To th'charge, let me alone to find you Books.  Ju. 
They come near us.  Ser. 
What's that?  Ju. 
Where? hold up the Torch Knave.  Ser. 
Did you hear nothing? 'tis a—  Iu. 
Why dost make a stand?  Ser. 
What's that?  Iu. 
Where, where, dost see any thing?  
We are hard by the Churchyard, and I was never  
Valiant at midnight in such irksome places;  
They say Ghosts walk sometimes, hark, d'ye hear nothing?  Enter Eurcher, Boy, and Mistress. Mi. 
No further, dig here, and lay her in quickly.  Lur. 
What light is that Boy, we shall be discovered;  
Set the Coffin up an end, and get behind me,  
There's no avoiding.  Boy. 
Oh.  Ju. 
Where's that groan? I begin to be afraid.  Ser. 
What shall we do sir?  Iu. 
We are almost at home now, thou must go forward;  
Perhaps 'twas my imagination.  Lur. 
'tis he?  Boy. 
I know him too, let me alone.  Ser. 
Oh sir, a Ghost, the very Ghost of Mistress Bride.  
I have no power to run away.  Iu. 
Cursed Ghost; bless me, preserve me,  
I do command thee whatsoe'er thou art,  
I do conjure thee leave me; do not fright me;  
If thou be'st a devil vex me not so soon,  
If thou be'st  
The spirit of my wife.  Boy. 
Thy wife.  Iu. 
I shall be tormented.  Boy. 
Thy abused wife, that cannot peaceably  
Enjoy her death, thou hast an evil conscience.  Ju. 
I know it.  Boy. 
Among thy other sins which black thy soul,  
Call to thy mind thy vow made to another,  
Whom thou hast wronged, and make her satisfaction  
Now I am dead, thou perjured man, or else  
A thousand black tormentors shall pursue thee,  
Until thou leap into eternal flames;  
Where gold which thou adorest here on earth  
Melted, the Fiends shall pour into thy throat;  
For this time pass, go home, and think upon me,  Lur. 
A way.  Ser. 
There are more spirits.  Iu. 
Thank you dear wife,  
I'll bestow twenty nobles of a Tomb for thee,  
Thou shalt not walk and catch cold after death.  They go backward in. Lu. 
So, so, they're gone, 'twas my ingenious rascal:  
But how dost know he made vows to another?  Boy. 
I overheard the women talk tonight on't;  
But now let's lose no time sir, pray let's bury  
This Gentlewoman, where's my Mistress?  Enter Mistress. Mi. 
Here, I durst not tarry.  Lu. 
We ha' so cozened the old forty i'th' hundred,  
And the devil hinder him not, he'll go a pilgrimage;  
But come, about our business, set her down again.  Mar. 
Oh.  Lur. 
she groans, ha.  Mar. 
Oh.  Lur. 
Again, she stirs.  Mi. 
Let's fly, or else we shall be torn in pieces.  Lur. 
And you be good at that, bury yourself,  
Or let the Sexton take ye for his fee,  
Away boy.  Exit. Mar. 
I am very cold, dead cold;  
Where am I? What's this? a Coffin? where have I been?  
Mercy defend me: Ha, I do remember  
I was betrayed, and swooned; my heart aches,  
I am wondrous hungry too, dead bodies eat not;  
Sure I was meant for burial, I am frozen;  
Death, like a cake of Ice dwells round about me,  
Darkness spreads o'er the world too, where? what path,  
Best providence direct me.  Exit.  

Actus Tertius.  Enter Lady, Wildbrain, Women, Toby, La. 
THou art the most unfortunate fellow;  Wil. 
Why Aunt, what have I done?  La. 
The most malicious varlet,  
Thy wicked head never at rest, but hammering,  
And hatching hellish things, and to no purpose,  
So thou mayst have thy base will.  Wi. 
Why do you rail thus?  
Cannot a scurvy accident fall out,  
But I must be at one end on't?  La. 
Thou art at both ends.  Wi. 
Cannot young sullen wenches play the fools,  
And marry, and die, but I must be the agent?  
All that I did (and if that be an injury,  
Let the world judge it) was but to persuade her  
(And as I take it) I was bound to it too,  
To make the reverend coxcomb her husband Cuckold:  
What else could I advise her, was there harm in'is?  
You are of years, and have run through experience,  
Would you be content if you were young again,  
To have a continual cough grow to your pillow,  
A rottenness, that vaults are perfumes to  
Hang in your roof, and like a fog infect you;  
Anointed hams to keep his hinges turning  
Reek ever in your nose, and twenty nightcaps,  
With twenty several sweats.  To. 
Some Jew, some Justice,  
A thousand heathen smells to say truth Madam,  
And would you mellow my young pretty Mistress  
In such a mis-ken?  La. 
Sirrah,  
Where's the body of my Girl?  Wi. 
I know not,  
I am no Conjurer, you may look the body,  
I was like to be stolen away myself, the Spirit  
Had like to ha' surprised me in the shape of a woman,  
Of a young woman, and you know those are dangerous.  To. 
So had I Madam, simply though I stand here,  
I had been ravished too: I had twenty Spirits  
In every corner of the house a Fiend met me.  La. 
You lie like rascals,  
Was Mistress Newlove such a Spirit sir  
To fright your worship;  
Well, I discharge you sir, you're now at liberty,  
Live where you please, and do what pranks you fancy,  
You know your substance, though you are my Nephew,  
I am no way bound sir to protect your mischief;  
So fare you well.  Wi. 
Farewell good Aunt, I thank you,  
Adieu honest Nick, the devil if he have power,  
Will persecute your old bones, for this marriage,  
Fare well Mistress Win.  To. 
And shall we part with dry lips;  
Shall we that have been fellow devils together  
flinch for an old woman's fart?  Wi. 
'tis a fine time a night too, but we must part Nick.  To. 
Shall we never ring again? ne'er toss the tenor,  
And roll the changes in a Cup of Claret?  
You shall not want whate'er I lay my hands on,  
As I am sure Automedon the Coachman,  
Shall be distributed; bear up, I say, hang sorrow,  
Give me that bird abroad that lives at pleasure,  
Same the Butlers true, the Cook a reverend Trojan,  
The falconer shall sell his Hawks, and swear they were rotten,  
There be some wandering spoons, that may be met with,  
I'll pawn a Coach horse, peace, utter no sentences.  
The harness shall be used in our wars also;  
Or shall I drive her (tell me but your will now,  
Say but the word) over some rotten bridge,  
Or by a Marl pit side, she may slip in daintily,  
Let me alone for myself.  Wi. 
No, no, farewell Toby,  
Farewell spiny Nicholas, no such thing,  
There be ways i'the world, if you see me  
A day or two hence, may be we'll crack a quart yet,  
And pull a bell, commend to the household;  
Nay, cry not Toby 'twill make thy head giddy.  To. 
Sweet Master Wildbrain.  Wi. 
No more Toby go, the times may alter—  
But where's the corpse of my dead x,  
(If she be dead) I hoped 'thad but dissembled  
That sits heavy here: Toby, honest Toby,  
Lend me thy lantern, I forgot 'twas dark,  
I had need look to my ways now.  To. 
Take a lodging with me tonight in the Stable,  
And ride away tomorrow with one of the horses  
Next your heart, pray do.  Wi. 
No, good night good neighbour Toby, I will wander,  
I scorn to submit myself, ere I have rambled,  
But whether, or with what, that's more material;  
No matter, and the worst come it is but stealing,  
And my Aunt won't see me hanged for her own credit,  
And farewell in a halter costs me nothing.  Exit. Enter Hartlove. Fran. 
The night, and all the evils the night covers,  
The Goblins, Hags, and the black spawn of darkness  
Cannot fright me, no death, I dare thy cruelty,  
For I am weary both of life and light too;  
Keep my wit's heaven, they say spirits appear  
To melancholy minds, and the graves open,  
I would fain see the fair Maria's shadow,  
But speak unto her spirit ere I died,  
But ask upon my knees a mercy from her:  
I was a villain, but her wretched Kinsman,  
That set his plot, shall with his heart blood satisfy  
Her injured life and honour, what lights this?  Enter Wildbrain with a lantern. Wil. 
It is but melancholy walking thus;  
The Tavern doors are barricadoed too,  
Where I might drink till morn, in expectation;  
I cannot meet the Watch neither; nothing in  
The likeness of a Constable, whom I might  
In my distress abuse, and so be carried,  
For want of other lodging to the Counter.  Fra. 
'tis his voice, Fate, I thank thee.  Wi. 
Ha, who's that, and thou be'st a man speak?  
Frank Heartlove, then I bore my destinies,  
Thou art the man of all the world I wished for;  
My Aunt has turned me out a doors, she has,  
At this unchristian hour, and I do walk,  
methinks, like Guido Faux with my dark lantern,  
Stealing to set the town a fire; i'th' country  
I should be ta'en for William o'the Wisp,  
Or Robin Goodfellow, and how dost Frank?  Ha. 
The worse for you.  Wi. 
Come, thou'rt a fool, art going to thy lodging?  
I'll lie with thee tonight, and tell thee stories,  
How many devils we ha' met withal;  
Our house is haunted Frank, whole legions,  
I saw fifty for my share.  Fr. 
Didst not fright 'em?  Wi. 
How, fright 'em? no, they frighted me sufficiently.  Fr. 
Thou hadst wickedness enough to make them stare,  
And be afraid o'thee, malicious devil;  
And draw thy sword, for by Maria's soul;  
I will not let thee scape to do more mischief.  Wi. 
Thou art mad, what dost mean?  Fr. 
To kill thee, nothing else will ease my anger,  
The injury is fresh, I bleed with all,  
Nor can that word express it, there's no peace in't,  
Nor must it be forgiven but in death;  
Therefore call up thy valour if thou'st any,  
And summon up thy spirits to defend thee;  
Thy heart must suffer for thy damned practises,  
Against thy noble x, and my innocence.  Wi. 
Hold, hear a word; did I do any thing  
But for your good, that you might have her,  
That in that desperate time I might redeem her,  
Although with show of loss.  Fr. 
Out ugly villain,  
Fling on her the most hated name of Whore  
To the world's eye, and face it out in courtesy,  
Bring him to see't, and make me drunk to attempt it.  Enter Maria. Ma. 
I hear some voices this way.  Fr. 
No more, if you can pray, do it as you fight.  Ma. 
What new frights oppose me? I have heard that tongue.  Wi. 
'tis my fortune,  
You could not take me in a better time sir,  
I ha' nothing to lose, but the love I lent thee,  
My life my sword protect.  Ma. 
I know 'em both, but to prevent their ruins,  
Must not discover—— stay men most desperate;  
The mischief you are forward to commit  
Will keep me from my grave, and tie my spirit  
To endless troubles else.  Wi. 
Ha, 'tis her Ghost. Fr. Maria.  Ma. 
Hear me both, each wound you make  
Runs through my soul, and is a new death to me,  
Each threatning danger will affright my rest;  
Look on me Hartlove, and my kinsman view me;  
Was I not late in my unhappy marriage,  
Sufficient miserable? full of all misfortunes?  
But you must add with your most impious angers  
Unto my sleeping dust this insolence?  
Would you teach time to speak eternally  
Of my disgraces; make Records to keep 'em,  
Keep them in brass? fight then, and kill my honour;  
Fight deadly both, and let your bloody swords,  
Through my revived, and reeking infamy  
(That never shall be purged) find your own ruins:  
Hartlove, I loved thee once, and hoped again  
In a more blessed love to meet thy spirit,  
If thou kill'st him, thou art a murderer,  
And murder shall never inherit heaven:  
My time is come, my concealed grave expects me,  
Farewell, and follow not, your feet are bloody,  
And will pollute my peace: I hope they are melted,  
This is my way sure.  Exit. Fr. 
Stay blessed souls.  Wi. 
Would she had come sooner, and ha' saved some blood.  Fr. 
Dost bleed?  Wi. 
Yes certainly, I can both see and feel it.  Fr. 
Now I well hope it is not dangerous;  
Give me thy hand, as far as honour guides me,  
I'll know thee again.  Exit. Wi. 
I thank thee heartily;  
I know not where to get a Surgeon;  
This vision troubles me, sure she is living,  
And I was foolish blind, I could not find it;  
I bleed apace still, and my heart grows heavy,  
If I go far I faint, I'll knock at this house,  
They may be charitable, would 'twere perfect day.  Enter Mistress. Mi. 
'tis not he? What would you sir?  Wi. 
I would crave a little rest Lady,  
And for my hurts some Surgery, I am a Gentleman  
That Fortune of a fight—  Mi. 
A handsome Gentleman,  
Alas he bleeds, a very handsome gentleman,  Wil. 
A sweet young wench, beshrew my heart a fair one;  
Fortune has made me some recompense.  Mi. 
Pray come in, the air is hurtful for you;  
Pray let me lead you, I'll have a bed for you presently,  
I'll be your Surgeon too, alas sweet gentleman.  Wi. 
I feel no hurts, the morning comes too fast now.  Mi. 
Softly I beseech you.  Exit. Enter Lady and Toby. To. 
He is not up yet Madam, what meant you  
To come forth so early?  La. 
You block head;  
Your eyes are sowed up still, they cannot see  
When it is day: oh my poor Maria,  
Where be the women?  To. 
They said they would follow us.  La. 
He shall not laugh thus at my misery,  
And kill my child, and steal away her body,  
And keep her Portion too.  To. 
Let him be hanged for't,  
You have my voice.  La. 
These women not come yet?  
A son in law, I'll keep a Conjurer,  
But I'll find out his knavery.  To. 
Do, and I'll help him;  
And if he were here this whip should conjure him,  
Here's a capias, and it catch hold on's breech,  
I'd make him soon believe the devil were there.  La. 
An old Usurer.  To. 
He married the money, that's all he looked for,  
For your daughter, let her sink or swim.  La. 
I'll swim him;  
This is his house, I wonder they stay thus,  
That we might rail him out on's wits.  To. 
They'll come,  
Fear not Madam, and bring Clappers with 'em,  
Or some have lost their old wont, I have heard  
No disparagement to your Ladyship, some o'their tongues  
Like Tom a Lincoln three miles off.  La. 
Oh fie,  
How tedious are they?  To. 
What and we lost no time,  
You and I shall make a shift to begin with him,  
And tune our Instruments, till the comfort come  
To make up the full noise, I'll knock.  Iu. 
Who's that? raps so saucily?  To. 
'tis I, Toby, come down, or else we'll fetch you down,  
Alas, this is but the saunce-bell, here's a Gentlewoman  
Will ring you another peal, come down, I say.  Iu. 
Some new fortifications, look to my doors,  
Put double bars, I will not have her enter,  
Nor any of her Tribe, they come to terrify me?  
Keep out her tongue too if you can.  La. 
I hear you,  
And I will send my tongue up to your worship,  
The Echo of it shall fly o'er the street;  
My Daughter, that thou killed'st with kindness (jew)  
That thou betrayd'st to death, thou double jew,  
And after stolest her body.  To. 
jew's too good for him.  Iu. 
I defy you both;  
Thy daughter played the villain and betrayed me.  
Betrayed my honour.  La. 
Honour, Rascal,  
And let that bear an action, I'll try it with thee,  
Honour?  To. 
Oh Reprobate!  La. 
Thou musty justice,  
Buy an honourable halter, and hang thyself.  To. 
A worshipful ropes end is too good for him.  La. 
Get honour that way, thou wot die a dog else.  To. 
Come and be whipped first.  La. 
Where is her Porrion.  Enter Nurse and women. Iu. 
Where I'll keep it safely.  Nur. 
Traitor, thou shalt not keep it.  Iu. 
More of the kennel? put more bolts toth' doors there,  
And arm yourselves, hell is broke loose upon us.  To. 
I am glad you're come, we'll blow the house down.  La. 
Oh Nurse, I have such cause—  Wo. 
villain, viper, although you had no cause, we are bound  
To help.  Nur. 
Yes, and believe, we come not here to examine,  
And if you please we'll fire the house.  Iu. 
Call the Constable.  To. 
A charitable motion, fire is comfortable.  La. 
No, no, we'll only let him know our minds,  
We will commit no outrage, he's a Lawyer.  Iu. 
Give me my Musket.  La. 
where's my daughter's body,  
That I may bury it?  Wo. 
Speak, or we'll bury thee,  Nur. 
Alive we'll bury thee, speak old Iniquity.  To. 
Bury him alive by all means for a testimony.  Iu. 
Their voices make my house reel, oh for Officers,  
I am in a dream, thy daughter's spirit  
Walks a nights, and troubles all the neighbours;  
Go hire a conjurer, I'll say no more.  La. 
The Law shall say more.  Wo. and Nur. 
We are witnesses,  
And if thou be'st not hanged—  Enter Lurcher, and Boy. Lur. 
Buy a Book of good manners,  
A short book of good manners.  Boy. 
Buy a ballad, a ballad of the maid was got with child.  To. 
That might ha' been my case last night,  
I'll ha''t whate'er it cost me.  Boy. 
A ballad of the Witches hanged at Ludlow.  To. 
I will have that too;  
There was an Aunt of mine, I think amongst 'em,  
I would be glad to hear her Testament.  Lur. 
A new book of women.  Iu. 
The thunders laid, how they stare at him.  Lur. 
A new book of fools, a strange book,  
Very strange fools.  Iu. 
I'll owe thee a good turn whate'er thou art.  Lur. 
A book of walking spirits.  Iu. 
That I like not.  To. 
Nor I, they walked me the fool's morris.  Lur. 
A book of wicked women.  Iu. 
That's well thought on.  Lur. 
Of rude malicious women, of proud women,  
Of scolding women, we shall ne'er get in.  Boy. 
A ballad of wronged Maids.  La. 
I'll buy that.  Lur. 
A little, very little book  
Of good and godly women, a very little one,  
So little, you may put it in a nutshell.  To. 
With a small print, that nobody can read it.  Nur. 
Peace sirrah, or I'll tear your books.  Iu. 
Open the door, and let him in, I love him.  Lur. 
A book of evil Magistrates.  La. 
I marry, d'ee here that Justice.  Lur. 
And their eviller wives,  
That we are their places in their petticoats.  Iu. 
D'ee you hear that Lady.  Boy. 
A book new Printed, against Playing,  
Dancing, Masking, maypoles; a zealous Brother's book,  
And full of fables.  Lur. 
Another book of women, of mad women,  
Women that were borne in March.  Exit. La. 
Are you got in?  
We would ha' pulled your knaves hide else; this fellow  
Was sent to abuse us, but we shall have time  
To talk more with this justice.  Iu. 
Farewell Madam, as you like this come visit me again,  
You and your treble strings, now scold your hearts out—  Wo. 
Shall he carry it thus away?  Nur. 
Go to the Judge, and what you'll have us swear—  La. 
I thank ye heartily,  
I'll keep that for the last, I will go home,  
And leave him to his Conscience for a while,  
If it sleep long, I'll wake it with a vengeance.  Exit. Enter Servants. 1. 
What book has he given thee?  2. 
A dainty book, a book of the great Navy,  
Of fifteen hundred ships of Cannon proof,  
Built upon Whales to keep their Keels from sinking;  
And Dragons in 'em, that spit fire ten mile;  
And Elephants that carry goodly castles.  1. 
Dost thou believe it?  2. 
Shall we not believe books in Print?  1. 
I have John tailor's book of hempseed too,  
Which for two lines I happened on by chance,  
I reverence.  2. 
I prithee what are they?  1. 
They are so put upon the time, as if  
He studied to answer the late Histriomastix,  
Talking of change and transformations,  
That wittily, and learnedly he bangs him,  
So may a Puritans ruff, though starched in Print,  
Be turned to Paper, and a Play writ in't:  
A Play in the Puritans ruff? I'll buy his Works for't,  
And confute Horace with a Water Poet:  
What haste there, a ballad too?  2. 
This? This is a piece of Poetry indeed;  He sings; justice cries within. 
What noise is that?  1. 
Some cry i'th' streets; prithee sing on.  Sing again. 2. 
Again, dost not hear? 'tis i'th' house certainly?  1. 
'tis a strange noise? and has a tang o'the justice.  2. 
Let's see?  Exit. Enter the Servants bringing in their Master bound and gauged. 1. 
Untie his feet, pull out his gag, he will choke else;  
What desperate rogues were these.  2. 
Give him fresh air.  Iu. 
I will never study books more;  
I am undone, these villains have undone me,  
Rifled my Desk, they have undone me learnedly;  
A fire take all their books, I'll burn my Study:  
Where were you rascals when the villains bound me,  
You could not hear.  1. 
He gave us books sir, dainty books to busy us;  
And we were reading in that which was the Brewhouse;  
A great way off, we were singing ballads too,  
And could not hear.  Ju. 
This was a precious thief,  
A subtle trick to keep my servants safe.  2. 
What ha' you lost fir?  Iu. 
They ransacked all before my face, and threatened  
To kill me, if I coughed, they have a chain,  
My rings, my box of casting gold, my purse too,  
They robbed me miserably; but that which most grieves me,  
They took away some writings; 'twas a Rogue  
That knew me, and set on by the old Lady,  
I will indite her for't.  1. 
Shall we pursue 'em?  Iu. 
Run, run, cursed rascals,  
I am out of my wits, let not a creature in,  
No not with necessaries.  2. 
We shall be starved.  Ju. 
I'll buy my meat at window, as they pass by;  
I won't trust my scrivener, he has books too;  
And bread I'll ha' flung up; I charge ye all  
Burn all the books i' th' house.  1. 
Your little Prayer book?  Iu. 
I'll never pray again, I'll have my doors  
Made, up nothing but walls, and thick ones too;  
No sound shall tempt me again, remember I  
Have forswore books.  2. 
If you should be called to take you oath.  Iu. 
I will forswear all oaths, rather than see  
A thing but in the likeness of a book:  
And I were condemned, I'll rather choose to hang,  
Than read again; come in, and search all places,  
They may be about the house, were the doors locked?  1. 
But the keys in 'em, and if they be gone,  
They could not want wit to lock us in sir.  Iu. 
Never was man so miserably undone,  
I would lose a limb to see their rogueships totter.  Exeunt. Enter Lady and Nurse. La. 
Thy brother's daughter, sayst, and borne in Wales?  Nur. 
I have long time desired to see her, and I hope  
Your Ladyship will not be offended.  La. 
No, no.  Nur. 
I should be happy if she might be serviceable  
To you Madam.  La. 
Beshrew me, but at first, she took me much,  
Is she not like Maria? setting aside  
Her language very like her, and I love her  
The better for't, I prithee call her hither,  
She speaks feat English.  Nur. 
Why, Gwennyth, Gwennyth, du hummah Gwennyth;  
She is course Madam, after her country guise,  
And were she in fine clothes—  La. 
I'll have her handsome:  
What part of Wales were you borne in?  Enter Maria. Ma. 
In Abehundis Madams.  Nur. 
She speaks that name in Welsh, which we call Breck-  La. 
What can you do? nock.  Ma. 
Her was toe many tings in Walls, know not the fashion in London's; her was milk the Cows, make seeze and butters, and spin very well the Welsh freeze, her was Cook to te Mountain cots, and sing very fine prittish tunes, was mage good ales and breads, and her know to dance on Sundays, marge you now Madams.  La. 
A pretty innocence, I do like her infinitely, Nurse.  
And if I live—  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Here is Mr. Hartlove, madam, come to see you:  La. 
Alas poor Gentleman, prithee admit him.  Enter Hartlove and Gent. Ha. 
madam, I am come to take my last leave.  La. 
How sir?  Ha. 
Of all my home affections, and my friends,  
For the interest you had once in Maria,  
I would acquaint you when I leave the kingdom.  La. 
Would there were any thing in my poor power  
That might divert your will, and make you happy;  
I am sure I have wronged her too, but let your pardon  
Assure me you are charitable; she's dead  
Which makes us both sad: What do you look on?  1. 
The likest face—  Ma. 
Plesse us all, why does that sentilman make such unders and mazements at her, I know her not.  Ha. 
Be not offended maid.  La. 
How the Wench blushes, she represents Maria's loss to him.  Ma. 
Will the sentillman hurt her, pray you be her defences, was have mad phisnomies, is her troubled with Lunatics in her praine pans, bless us all.  Ha. 
Where had you this face?  Ma. 
Her faces be our none I warrant her.  Ha. 
I won't hurt you, all the lineaments  
That built Maria up; all those springing beauties  
Dwell on this thing, change but her tongue, I know her:  
Let me see your hand.  Ma. 
Du Guin, was never thieves, and robberies; here is no sing in her hands warrant her.  Ha. 
Trust me, the selfsame white,  
And softness, prithee speak our English Dialect.  Ma. 
Haleggs? what does her speage hard urds to her, to make poor Gwennyth ridiculous, was no mannerly sentilman to abuse her.  Ha. 
By the love,  
That everlasting love I bore Maria  Ma. 
Mariai, her name was Guenith, and good names, was poor else, oman maid, her have no fine kanags to madge her tricksy, yet in her own countries was held a fine ense her can tell her, and honest ense too, marg you dat now, her can keep her little legs close enough warrant her.  La. 
How prettily this anger shows.  1. 
She gabbles innocently.  Ha. 
Madam, farewell, and all good fortune dwell w'ee,  
With me my own affections; farewell maid,  
Fair gentle maid.  2. 
She sighs.  Ma. 
Du cat a whee.  Ha. 
I cannot go, there's somewhat calls me back.  Ma. 
Poor Frank,  
How gladly would I entertain thy love,  
And meet thy worthy flame, but shame forbids me:  
If please her Ladyships dwell here with Gwennyth, and learn to spin and card rill, to mage flannels, and linsey-wolseys, sall tawg could urds to her ladyship's urships for her.  The tears flow from him. 
The tears of true affection, woe is me,  
O cursed love that glories in maids' miseries,  
And true men's broken hearts.  La. 
Alas I pity him, the wench is rude, and knows you not, forgive her.  Ma. 
Wine your nyes pray you, though was porne in Walls 'mong craggy rocks, and mountains, yet heart is soft, look you, hur can weep too, when her see men mage privy tears and lamentations.  Ha. 
How hard she holds me?  
Just as Maria did, weeps the same drops,  
Now as I have a living soul, her sigh too;  
What shall I think, is not your name Maria,  
If it be not, delude me with so much charity  
To say it is.  Ma. 
Upon her life, you was mighty deal in love with some podies, your pale seeks and hollow nyes, and pantings upon her bosom, know very well, because look you, her think her honest sentilman, you sall call her Maria.  Ha. 
Good Madam, think not ill I am thus saucy.  La. 
Oh no sir, be you not angry with the wench.  Ha. 
I am most pleased.  1. 
Let's interrupt him, he'll be mad our right else.  2. 
Observe a little more.  Ha. 
Would I could in your language beg a kiss.  Ma. 
If her have necessities of a kiss, look you, dear is one in sarities.  Ha. 
Let me suffer death,  
If in my apprehension, two twinnd cherries  
Be more a kin, than her lips to Maria's;  
And if this harsh illusion would but leave her,  
She were the same; good Madam, shall I have  
Your consent now.  La. 
To what?  Ha. 
To give this Virgin to me.  La. 
she's not mine, this is her kinswoman,  
And has more power to dispose; alas, I pity him.  
Pray gentlemen prevail with him to go;  
More that I wish his comfort than his absence.  Ha. 
You have been always kind to me, will you  
Deny me your fair Chosen.  Nu. 
'Twere fit you first obtained her own consent.  Ha. 
He is no friend that wishes my departure,  
I do not trouble you.  1. 
'tis not Maria.  Ha. 
Her shadow is enough, I'll dwell with that,  
Pursue your own ways, shall we live together?  Ma. 
If her will come tomorrow and tauge to her, her will tell her more of her meanings, and then if her be melancholy, her will sing her a Welsh song too, to make her merries, but Gwennyth was very honest; her was never love but one sentleman, and he was bear her great teale of goodills too, was marry one day, S. Davy her give her five pair of white gloves, if her will dance at her weddings.  Ha. 
All I am worth,  
And all my hopes, this strange voice would forsake her,  
For then she should be— prithee stay a little,  
Hark in thine ear, dissemble not, but tell me,  
And save my life; I know you are Maria:  
Speak but as I do ten words to confirm me;  
You have an English soul, do not disguise it  
From me with these strange accents— She pinched hard  
Again, and sighed.  La. 
What ails the Wench?  Exit. Nur. 
Why, Gunith.  Ha. 
She's gone too.  2. 
Come leave this dream.  Ha. 
A dream? I think so;  
But 'twas a pleasing one, now I'll obey,  
And forget all these wonders, lead the way.  Exeunt.  

Actus Quartus.  Enter Wildbrain, and Toby. Wi. 
HOnest Toby?  To. 
Sweet Mr. Wildbrain,— I am glad I ha' met wi'ye.  Wi. 
Why did my Aunt send for me?  To. 
Your Aunt's a mortal, and thinks not on you  
For aught I can perceive.  Wi. 
Is my x alive again?  To. 
Neither, and yet we do not hear  
That she's buried.  Wi. 
What should make thee glad then?  To. 
What should make me glad? have I not cause,  
To see your Princely body well, and walk thus,  
Look blithe and bonny, and your wardrobe whole still.  Wi. 
The Case is clear, and I ha' found a Mine,  
A perfect indy, since my Aunt cashiered me;  
What think'st of this?  To. 
Oh delicate bells.  Wi. 
Thou puttest me in mind,  
We are to ring anon, I meant to send for thee;  
Meet me at the old Parish Church.  To. 
Say no more.  Wi. 
When thy Lady is a-bed, we ha' conspired  
A midnight peal for joy.  To. 
If I fail hang me i'th' bell-ropes.  Wi. 
And how? and how does my Aunt?  To. 
She's up toth' ears in Law;  
I do so whirl her to the Counsellors chambers,  
And back again, and bounce her for more money,  
And too again, I know not what they do with her,  
But she's the merriest thing among these Lawdrivers;  
And in their studies half a day together;  
If they do get her with Magna Charta, she swears,  
By all the ability of her old body,  
She will so claw the Justice, she will sell  
The tiles of the house she vows, and sack out o'th' cellar  
(That she worships to Idolatry) but she'll hang him.  Wi. 
I would she could: but hark thee honest Toby,  
If a man have a Mistress, may we not  
Without my aunt's leave, borrow now and than  
A coach to tumble in, toward the Exchange,  
And so forth?  To. 
A Mistress.  Wi. 
She may be thine when we are married.  To. 
Command, I'll carry you both in pomp;  
And let my Lady go afoot a Law-catching,  
And exercise her corns: where is she Master john?  Wi. 
shalt see her.  To. 
Shall we ring for her?  Wi. 
And drink her health.  To. 
Drink stiffly for five hours.  Wi. 
we'll drink fifteen.  To. 
tonight? we will ha' twenty torches then,  
And through the streets drive on triumphantly;  
Triumphantly we'll drive, by my Lady's door,  
As I am a Christian Coachman, I will rattle you  
And urine in her Porch, and she shall fear me:  
If you say more, I shall run mad outright,  
I will drink sack and surfeit instantly;  
I know not where I am now.  Exit. Enter Lurcher. Wi. 
Hold for thy buttons sake, the knave's transported.  Lur. 
Jack Wildbrain?  Wi. 
Honest Tom, how thrives the felonious world with thee now?  Lur. 
You look and talk as you were much exalted.  Wi. 
thou''the right  Tom. 
I'll tele thee first,  
I ha' shaken off my Aunt, and yet I live still,  
And drink, and sing; her house had like to ha' spoiled me;  
I keep no hours now;  
Nor need any false key  
To the old woman's Cabinets, I ha' money  
Upon my word, and pawn no oaths toth' Butler;  
No matrimonial protestations;  
Our sack possets to the Chambermaid,  
I praise my Fate, there be more ways toth' wood Tom.  Lur. 
Prithee release my wonder.  Wi. 
I'll increase it, wipe thine eyes,  
Here is a chain worth money and some man had it,  
A foolish Diamond, and other trifles—  Lur. 
The very same, oh Gipsy! Infidel!  
All that I sweat, and ventured me neck for,  
He has got already; who would trust a strumpet.  Wi. 
This? This is nothing to what I possess  
At home.  Lur. 
What home?  Wi. 
A house that shall be nameless;  
The Mistress of it mine too, such a piece  
For flesh and blood, added to that so loving—  Lur. 
Is, she married?  Wi. 
I know not, nor I care not;  
But such a prize, so mounting, so delicious,  
Thou wilt run mad, I'll tell thee more hereafter.  Lur. 
Nay, prithee a word more.  Wi. 
I took no pains to find out all this Paradise,  
My Destiny threw me upon't i'th' dark, I found it  
Wanting a lodging too.  Lur. 
No old acquaintance?  Wi. 
Never, never saw her;  
But these things happen not in every age,  
I cannot stay, If thou wilt meet anon  
At my own rendezvous, thou knowest the Tavern,  
we'll sup together, after that, a company  
Of merry lads have made a match to ring.  Lur. 
You keep your exercise, i'the old Church?  Wi. 
No other,  
There is no music to the bells, we would  
Have bonfires if we durst, and thou would come  
It shall cost thee nothing Tom, hang pilfering.  
And keep me company, in time I may  
Show thee my Wench too.  Lur. 
I cannot promise; but you will be there?  Wi. 
we'll toss the bells, and make the steeple  
Roar boy, but come to supper then.  Lur. 
My hand, and expect me:  
Yes I will come or send, and to some purpose;  
Art come boy?  Enter Boy with Gown, Beard, and Constable's staff. 
Excellent, Knave, how didst thou purchase these?  Boy. 
The staff I stole last night from a sleeping Constable;  
The rest I borrowed by my acquaintance with  
The player's boys; you were best to lose no time sir.  Lur. 
So, so, help boy, 'tis very well, do I not look  
Like one that breaks the king's peace with authority?  
You know your charge, prepare things handsomely,  
My diligent boy, and leave me to my office.  Boy. 
There wants nothing already; but I fly sir.  Exit. Lur. 
Now Fortune prove no slut, and I'll adore thee.  
Within. Ser. whose's there?  Knocks. Lur. 
A friend would speak with Master justice.  Ser. 
Who are you?  Lur. 
I am the Constable.  Ser. 
My Master is not at leisure to hear business.  Lur. 
How? Not at leisure to do the king service;  
Take heed what you say sir; I know his worship,  
If he knew my business, would no excuse.  Ser. 
You must go to another justice, I'll assure  
My Master is not well in health.  Lur 
I know not,  
But if your worshipful be not at leisure  
To do himself a benefit, I am gone sir,  
An infinite benefit, and the State shall thank him for;  
Thank him, and think on him too; I am an Officer,  
And know my place, but I do love the Justice;  
I honour any authority above me:  
Beside, he is my neighbour, and I worship him.  Ser. 
You have no books nor ballads Mr. Constable  
About you?  Lur. 
What should I do with books does it become  
A man of my place to understand such matters?  
Pray call your Master, if he please to follow me,  
I shall discover to him such a plot,  
Shall get him everlasting fame, I'll be hanged for't  
And he be not knighted instantly, and for reward  
Have some of the malefactor's lands I'll bring him too;  
But I cannot dally time.  Within. Iu. 
Who's that?  Ser. 
A Constable sir, would speak about some business,  
He says, will bring you fame, and mighty profit.  Lur. 
Please your worship, come down, I'll make you happy;  
The notablest piece of villainy I have in hand sir,  
And you shall find it out; I ha' made choice  
To bring your worship to the first knowledge, and  
Thank me, as you find the good on't afterwards.  Iu. 
What is it? Treason?  Lur. 
'tis little better, I can tell you, I have lodged  
A crew of the most rank and desperate villains:  
They talk of robberies, and ways they did 'em;  
And how they left men bound in their studies.  Iu. 
With books and ballads?  Lur. 
That sir? that, and murders,  
And thousand knaveries more, they're very rich sir,  
In money, jewels, chains, and a hundred more  
Devices.  Iu. 
Happy, happy Constable, I meet ye  
At the back door, get ready knaves.  Lur. 
Not a man I beseech you,  
I have privately appointed strength about me,  
They cannot start, your men would breed suspicion;  
All my desire is you would come alone;  
That you might have the hope of the enterprise,  
That you might hear 'em first, and then proceed sir,  Iu. 
I come, I come.  Lur. 
'tis very well.  Exit. Iu. 
Keep all my doors fast, 'tis something late.  Lur. 
So, so, and please your worship I'll direct you.  Exit. Enter Boy. Boy. 
My Master stays, I doubt his lime-twigs catch not,  
If they do, all's provided; but I all  
This while forget my own state, fair Maria  
Is certainly alive, I met her in  
Another habit, with her Nurse, 'twas she:  
There is some trick in't, but when this is over,  
I'll find it out, this project for the Usurer  
May have good effect; however 'twill be sport  
To mortify him a little;  
He's come without him:  
Have you failed sir?  Enter Lurcher. Lur. 
Prospered? my little engineer; away,  
He is i'th' next room, be not you seen sirrah.  Exit. Boy. 
The pitfalls ready, never Justice  
Was caught in such a noose, ere he get out,  
He shall run through a scouring purgatory,  
Shall purge him to the quick, 'tis night already.  Exit. Enter Algripe and Lurcher. Lur. 
Come softly, yet sir softly, are you not weary?  Iu. 
thou'st brought me into a melancholy place,  
I see no creature.  Lur. 
This is, sir, their den  
Where they suppose themselves secure, I am saint,  
With making haste; but I must be thus troubled,  
And therefore never go without a cordial;  
Without this I should die;  
How it refreshes me  
Already? wilt please your worship? I might have had  
The manners to ha let you drink before me;  
Now am I lusty.  Iu. 
'Thas a good taste.  Seems to drink. Lur. 
Taste? how d'ee find the virtue, nay sir spare it not:  
My wife has the receipt, does it not stir  
Your worship's body? when you come to examine,  
Till make you speak like Thunder.  Iu. 
Hoy he.  Lur. 
It works already.  Iu. 
Is there never a chair, I was wearier than I thought,  
But who shall we have to take 'em, Mr. Constable?  Lur. 
Let me alone, when I but give the watch word  
We will have men enough to surprise an army.  Iu. 
I begin to be sleepy; what, hast a chair?  Enter another with a chair. Lur. 
They do not dream of us, 'tis early rising;  
Care, care, and early rising, common wealth's men  
Are ever subjects to the nods; sit down sir,  
A short nap is not much amiss; so, so, he's fast;  
Fast as a fish i'th' net, he has winking powder  
Shall work upon him to our wish, remove him,  
Nay, we may cut him into collops now  
And he ne'er feel; have you prepared the vault sirrah?  Boy. 
Yes, yes, sir, every thing in's place.  Lur. 
When we ha' placed him, you an I boy  
Must about another project hard by, his potion  
Will bind him sure enough till we return,  
This villainy weighs mainly, but we'll purge ye.  Exit. Bells ring. Enter Sexton. Sex. 
Now for mine ears, mine ears be constant to me;  
They ring a wager, and I must deal justly, ha boys.  Enter Lurcher and Boy. Lur. 
Dost hear 'em, hark, these be the Ringers?  Boy. 
Are you sure the same?  Lur. 
Or my directions fail;  
The coast is clear:  
How the bells go? how daintily they tumble?  
And methinks they seem to say; Fine fools I'll fit you.  Sex. 
Excellent again, good boys— oh that was nought.  Lur. 
Who's that?  Boy. 
Be you concealed by any moans yet, hark,  
They stop, I hope they'll too't again, close sir.  Enter Wildbrain, Toby, Ringers. Wi. 
A palpable knock.  Rin. 
'Twas none.  To. 
Be judged by the Sexton then,  
If I have ears.  Sex. 
A Knock, a knock, a gross one.  To. 
Carman, your gallon of wine, you ring most impiously,  
Art thou of the worshipful company of the knights o'th' West,  
And handle a bell with no more dexterity;  
You think you are in Thames street  
Justling the carts: oh a clean hands a jewel.  Boy. 
Good speed to your good exercise.  To. 
You're welcome.  Boy. 
I come sir from a gentleman, and neighbour hard by,  
One that loves your music well.  To. 
He may have more on't,  
Handle a bell, as you were haling timber;  
Gross, gross, and base, absurd.  Rin. 
I'll mend it next peal.  Boy. 
To entreat a knowledge of you, whether it be  
By the Ear you ring thus cunningly or by the Eye;  
For to be plain, he has laid ten pounds upon't.  Wi. 
But which way has he laid?  Boy. 
That your Ear guides you,  
And not your Eye.  To. 
Has won, has won, the Ear's our only instrument:  Boy. 
But how shall we be sure on't.  To. 
Put all the lights out, to what end serve our Eyes then,  Wi. 
A plain Case.  Boy. 
You say true, 'tis a fine cunning thing to ring by th'ear sure:  
And can you ring i'th' dark so?  Wi. 
All night long boy.  Boy. 
'Tis wonderful, let this be certain gentlemen,  
And half his wager he allows among ye;  
Is't possible you should ring so?  To. 
Possible, thou art a child, I'll ring when I am dead drunk;  
Out with the lights, no twinkling of a candle,  
I know my rope to, as I know my nose,  
And can bang it soundly i'th' dark, I warrant you.  Wi. 
Come let's confirm him straight and win the wager.  Exit. Boy. 
Let me hear to strengthen me;  
And when you've rung I'll bring the money to you.  Lur. 
So so, follow 'em;  
They shall have a cool reward, one hath gold of mine,  
Good store in's pocket,  Ring. 
But this will be revenged in a short warning.  
They are at it lustily; hay, how wantonly  
They ring away their clothes, how it delights me;  Boy. 
Here, here, sir.  Enter Boy with clothes. Lur. 
Hast Wildbrain's?  Boy. 
His whole case sir; I felt it out, and by the guards  
This should be the coachman's, another suit too.  Lur. 
Away Boy, quickly now to the Usurer,  
His hour to wake approaches.  Boy. 
That once finished,  
You'll give me leave to play sir: here they come.  Exit. Enter Wildbrain, Toby, and Ringers. Wi. 
I am monstrous weary,  To. 
Fie, how I sweat? Reach me my cloak to cover me,  
I run to oil like a Porpoise; 'twas a brave peal.  Sex. 
Let me light my candle first, then I'll wait on you:  Wi. 
A very brave peal.  To. 
Carman, you came in close now.  Wi. 
Sure 'tis past midnight.  Rin. 
No stirring in the streets I hear,  To. 
Walk further, was that a pillar? 'tis harder than my nose.  
Where's the Boy promised us five pound?  Wi. 
Room, I sweat still; come, come, my cloak,  
I shall take cold  Enter Sexton. Sex. 
Where lies it?  Wi. 
Here, here, and all our clothes.  Sex. 
Where, where?  Rin. 
Ith' corner.  To. 
Is thy candle blind too, give me the bottle,  
I can drink like a Fish now, like an Elephant.  Sex. 
Here are the corners, but here are no clothes;  
Yes, here is a cuff.  Wi. 
A cuff? give me the candle.  
Cuffs won't cover me— I smell a knavery.  To. 
Is't come to a cuff? my whole suit turned to a button?  Wi. 
Now am I as cold again as though 'twere Christmas;  
Cold with my fear, I'll never ring by the ear more.  To. 
My new clothes vanished?  Wi. 
My all clothes Toby.  Rin. 
Here's none.  To. 
Not one of my dragon's wings left to adorn me  
Have I muted all my feathers?  Wi 
Cheated by the ear; a plot to put out the candle;  
I could be mad; my chain, my rings, the gold, the gold.  To. 
The cold, the cold I cry, and I cry truly,  
Not one sleeve, nor a cape of a cloak to warm me.  Wi. 
What miserable fools were we?  To. 
We had e'en best, gentlemen,  
Every man choose his rope again, and fasten it,  
And take a short turn to a better fortune  
To be bawds to our miseries, and put our own lights out?  Wi. 
Prithee Sexton let's have a fire at thy house,  
A good fire, we'll pay thee some way for't, I am stone cold.  Sex. 
Alas I pity you, come quickly gentlemen.  Wi. 
Sure I ha' been in a dream, I had no mistress,  
Nor gold, nor clothes, but am a ringing rascal.  To. 
Fellows in affliction, let's take hands all,  
Now are we fit for tumblers.  Enter Lurcher and others, bringing in Algripe. Lur. 
So, so, presently his sleep will leave him.  
And wonder seize upon him,  
Bid 'em within be ready.  Iu. 
What sound's this?  
What horrid din? what dismal place is this?  
I never saw before, and now behold it;  
But by the half light of a lamp, that burns here:  
My spirits shake, tremble through my body;  
Help, help,  Enter two Furies with black tapers. 
Mercy, protect me, my soul quakes,  
What dreadful apparitions! how I shudder!  1, 2 and Fu. 
Algripe.  Iu. 
What are you?  1. 
We are hellhounds hellhounds, that have commission  
From the Prince of darkness,  
To fetch thy black soul to him.  Iu. 
Am I not alive still?  1. 
Thou art, but we have brought thee instruments  
Will quickly rid thy miserable life, Stab,  2. 
Poison.  1. 
Hang thyself, this choice is offered  2. 
Thou canst not hope for heaven; thy base soul is  
Lost to all hope of mercy.  2. 
Quickly, quickly.  
The torments cool  1. 
And all the Fiends expect thee.  
Come with us to that pit of endless horror,  
Or we will force thee.  Ju. 
Oh, oh oh.  1. 
Groans are too late, sooner the ravisher,  
Whose soul is hurled into eternal frost,  
Stung with the force of twenty thousand Winters  
To punish the distempers of his blood,  
Shall hope to get from thence, than thou avoid  
The certainty of meeting hell where he is.  
Shall murderers be there for ever dying,  
Their souls shot through with adders, torn on Engines,  
Dying as many deaths for killing one,  
Could any imagination number them,  
As there be moments in eternity:  
And shall that Justice spare thee, that hast slain,  
Murdered by thy extortion so many?  Iu. 
Oh, oh.  2. 
Do execution quickly, or we'll carry thee alive to hell.  Iu. 
Gently, gentle devils, do not force me  
To kill myself, nor do not you do't for me;  
Oh let me live, I'll make amends for all.  1. 
Tell us of thy repentance? perjured villain,  
Pinch off his flesh, he must be whipped, salted and whipped.  Iu. 
Oh misery of miseries!  Recorders 1 and 2 
Tear his accursed limbs, to hell with him, ha.  
A mischief on that innocent face, away.  Creeps in Enter Boy like an Angel. Boy. 
Malicious furies hence, choke not the seeds  
Of holy penitence.  Iu. 
This must be an Angel,  
How at his presence the fiends crawl away!  
Here is some light of mercy.  Boy. 
Be thou wise,  
And entertain it, wretched, wretched man;  
What poor defence hath all thy wealth been to thee?  
What says thy conscience now?  Ju. 
Be my good Angel, here I promise thee,  
To become honest, and renounce all villainy;  
Enjoin me any penance, I'll build Churches;  
A whole city of Hospitals.  Boy. 
Take heed,  
There is no dallying, nor are these imposed.  Iu. 
Name any thing within my power, sweet Angel;  
And if I do not faithfully perform it,  
Then whip me every day, burn me each minute,  
Whole years together, let me freeze to icicles.  Boy. 
I'th' number of thy soul oppressions;  
Thou hast undone a faithful gentleman,  
By taking forfeit of his land.  Iu. 
Young Lurcher,  
I do confess.  Boy. 
He lives most miserable,  
And in despair may hang or drown himself;  
Prevent his ruin, or his blood will be  
More sin in thy account: hast thou forgotten  
He had a sister?  Iu. 
I do well remember it.  Boy. 
Couldst thou for Mammon break thy solemn vow.  
Made once to that unhappy maid, that weeps  
A thousand tears a day for thy unkindness,  
Was not thy faith contracted, and thy heart?  
And couldst thou marry another?  Ju. 
But she's dead,  
And I will make true satisfaction.  Boy. 
What do I instance these, that hast been false  
To all the world.  Iu. 
I know it, and will henceforth  
Practise repentance, do not frown sweet Angel;  
I will restore all mortgages, forswear  
Abominable Usury, live chaste;  
For I have been wanton in my shroud, my age;  
And if that poor innocent maid, I so abused  
Be living, I will marry her, and spend  
My days to come religiously.  Boy. 
I was commanded but a messenger  
To tell thee this, and rescue thee from those,  
Whose malice would have dradged thee quick to hell,  
If thou abuse this mercy and repent not,  
Double damnation will expect thee for it;  
But if thy life be virtuous hereafter,  
A blessedness shall reward thy good example,  
Thy fright hath much distracted thy weak senses,  
Drink of this viol, and renew thy spirits,  
I ha' done my office, think on't and be happy.  Lur. 
So, so, He gapes already, now he's fast;  
Thou hast acted rarely; but this is not all;  
First, help to convey him out o'th' vault.  Boy. 
You will dispense with me now, as you promised sir.  Lur. 
We will make shift without thee, thou'st done well,  
By our device this bandog may scape hell.  Exit. Enter Lady, Nurse, Maria. La. 
Didst think Maria, this poor outside, and  
Dissembling of thy voice could hide thee from  
A mother's searching eye, though too much fear,  
Lest thou wert not the same, might blind a lover  
That thought thee dead too; oh my dear Maria,  
I hardly kept my joys in from betraying thee:  
Welcome again to life, we shall find out  
The mystery of thy absence; conceal  
Thy person still, for Algripe must not know thee:  
And exercise this pretty dialect;  
If there be any course in Law to free thee,  
Thou shalt not be so miserable; be silent  
Good Nurse.  Nur. 
You shall not need to fear me Madam,  
I do not love the usuring jew so well;  
Beside, 'twas my trick to disguise her so.  La, 
Be not dejected Mall.  Ma. 
Your care may comfort me;  
But I despair of happiness.  
Hartlove, I dare not see him  Nur. 
We'll withdraw.  La. 
I shall but grieve to see his passions too,  
Since there's no possibility to relieve him.  Enter Hartlove. Ha. 
The worlds a Labyrinth, where unguided men  
Walk up and down to find their weariness;  
No sooner have we measured with much toil  
One crooked path, with hope to gain our freedom,  
But it betrays us to a new affliction;  
What a strange mockery will man become  
Shortly to all the creatures?  
Oh Maria!  
If thou be'st dead, why does thy shadow fright me I  
Sure 'tis because I live; were I but certain  
To meet thee in one grave, and that our dust  
Might have the privilege to mix in silence,  
How quickly should my soul shake off this burden!  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Thus far my wishes have success, I'll lose  
No time: Sir, are not you called Mr. Hartlove?  
Pardon my rudeness.  Ha. 
What does that concern  
Thee Boy, 'tis a name cannot advantage thee,  
And I am weary on't.  Boy. 
Had you concealed,  
Or I forgot it sir, so large were my  
Directions, that you could not speak this language,  
But I should know you by your sorrow.  Ha. 
Thou  
Wert well informed, it seems; well, what's your business I  Boy. 
I come to bring you comfort.  Ha. 
Is Maria  
Alive again? that's somewhat, and yet not  
Enough to make my expectation rise, to  
Past half a blessing, since we cannot meet  
To make it up a full one; thouart mistaken.  Boy. 
When you have heard me, you'll think otherwise;  
In vain I should report Maria living:  
The comfort that I bring you must depend  
Upon her death.  Ha. 
thouart a dissembling boy,  
Some one has sent thee to mock me, though my anger  
Stoop not to punish thy green years, unripe  
For malice; did I know what person sent thee  
To tempt my sorrow thus, I should revenge it.  Boy. 
Indeed I have no thought so uncharitable,  
Nor am I sent to grieve you, let me suffer  
More punishment than ever boy deserved,  
If you do find me false; I serve a Mistress  
Would rather die than play with your misfortunes;  
Then good sir hear me out.  Ha. 
Who is your Mistress?  Boy. 
Before I name her, give me some encouragement,  
That you receive her message, she is one  
That is full acquainted with your misery,  
And can bring such a portion of her sorrow  
In every circumstance so like your own,  
You'll love and pity her, and wish your griefs  
Might marry one another's.  Ha. 
Thou art wild.  
Canst thou bring comfort from so sad a creature?  
Her miserable story can at best,  
But swell my Volume, large enough already.  Boy. 
She was late beloved, as you were, promised faith,  
And marriage, and was worthy of a better  
Than he, that stole Maria's heart.  Ha. 
How's that?  Boy. 
Just as Maria dealt with your affection;  
Did he that married her, deal with my Mistress,  
When careless both of honour and Religion;  
They cruelly gave away their hearts to strangers.  Ha. 
Part of this truth I know, but prithee boy  
Proceed to that thou cam'st for; thou didst promise  
Something, thy language cannot hitherto  
Encourage me to hope for.  Boy. 
That I come to,  
My Mistress thus unkindly dealt with all,  
You may imagine, wanted no affliction;  
And had ere this, wept herself dry as marble,  
Had not your fortune come to her relief,  
And twin to her own sorrow brought her comfort.  Ha. 
Could the condition of my fate so equal,  
Lessen her sufferings?  Boy. 
I know not how  
Companions in grief sometimes diminish,  
And make the pressure easy, by degrees:  
She threw her troubles off, remembering yours,  
And from her pity of your wrongs, there grew  
Affection to your person thus increased,  
And with it, confidence, that those whom Nature  
Had made so even in their weight of sorrow,  
Could not but love as equally one another,  
Were things but well prepared, this gave her boldness  
To employ me thus far.  Ha. 
A strange message boy.  Boy. 
If you incline to meet my Mistress love,  
It may beget your comforts; besides that,  
'tis some revenge, that you above their scorn  
And pride, can laugh at them, whose perjury  
Hath made you happy, and undone themselves.  Ha. 
Have you done boy.  Boy. 
Only this little more;  
When you but see, and know my Mistress well,  
You will forgive my tediousness, she's fair,  
Fair as Maria was.  Ha. 
I'll hear no more,  
Go foolish boy, and tell thy fonder Mistress  
She has no second faith to give away;  
And mine; was given to Maria, though her death,  
Allow me freedom, see the Picture of her,  Enter Maria, Nurse. 
I would give ten thousand Empires for the substance;  
Yet for Maria's sake, whose divine Figure  
That rude frame carries, I will love this counterfeit  
Above all the world, and had thy Mistress all  
The grace and blossom of her sex; now she  
Is gone, that was a walking Spring of beauty,  
I would not look upon her.  Boy. 
Sir, your pardon,  
I have but done a message; as becomes  
A servant, nor did she on whose commands  
I gladly waited, bid me urge her love  
To your disquiet, she would chide my diligence  
If I should make you angry.  Ha. 
Pretty Boy.  Boy. 
Indeed I fear I have offended you:  
Pray if I have, enjoin me any penance for it;  
I have performed one duty, and could as willingly  
To purge my fault, and show I suffer with you,  
Plead your cause to another.  Ha. 
And I'll take thee  
At thy word boy, thou hast a moving language,  
That pretty innocent, Copy of Maria  
Is all I love, I know not how to speak,  
Win her to think well of me, and I will  
Reward thee to thy wishes.  Boy. 
I undertake  
Nothing for gain, but since you have resolved  
To love no other, I'll be faithful to you,  
And my prophetic thoughts bid me already  
Say I shall prosper.  Ha. 
Thou wert sent to bless me.  Boy. 
Pray give us opportunity.  Ha. 
Be happy.  Exit. Nur. 
he's gone.  Boy. 
With your fair leave Mistress  Ma. 
Have you pusiness with her pray you?  Boy. 
I have a message from a gentleman,  
Please you vouchsafe your ear more private.  Nur. 
You shall have my absence Niece.  Exit. Ma. 
Was the sentleman afeard to declare his matters openly, here was nobody's was not very honest, if her like not her errands the better, was witted to kept her breathes to cool her porridges, can tell her that now for aule her private hearings, and tawgings.  Boy. 
You may, if please you, find another language,  
And with less pains be understood.  Ma. 
What is her meaning?  Boy. 
Come, pray speak your own English.  Ma. 
Have boys lost her iots and memories? pless us aule.  Boy. 
I must be plain then, come, I know you are  
Maria, this thin veil cannot obscure you:  
I'll tell the world you live, I have not lost ye,  
Since first with grief and shame to be surprised,  
A violent trance took away show of life;  
I could discover by what accident  
You were conveyed away at midnight, in  
Your coffin, could declare the place, and minute,  
When you revived, and what you have done since as perfectly—  Ma. 
Alas, I am betrayed to new misfortunes.  Boy. 
You are not for my knowledge, I'll be dumb  
For ever, rather than be such a traitor;  
Indeed I pity you, and bring no thoughts,  
But full of peace, call home your modest blood,  
Pale hath too long usurped upon your face;  
Think upon love again, and the possession  
Of full blown joys, now ready to salute you.  Ma. 
These words undo me more than my own griefs.  Boy. 
I see how fear would play the tyrant with you,  
But I'll remove suspicion; have you in  
Your heart an entertainment for his love,  
To whom your Virgin faith made the first promise?  Ma. 
If thou mean'st Hartlove, thou dost wound me still,  
I have no life without his memory,  
Nor with it any hope to keep it long,  
Thou seest I walk in darkness like a thief,  
That fears to see the world in his own shape,  
My very shadow frights me, 'tis a death  
To live thus, and not look day in the face,  
Away, I know thee not.  Boy. 
You shall hereafter know, and thank me Lady,  
I'll bring you a discharge at my next visit,  
Of all your fears, be content fair Maria,  
'tis worth your wonder  Ma. 
Impossible.  Boy. 
Be wise and silent,  
Dress yourself, you shall be what you wish.  Ma. 
Do this, and be  
My better Angel.  Boy. 
All your cares on me.  Exeunt.  

Actus Quintus.  Enter Lurcher, and Boy. Lur. 
I Must applaud thy diligence.  Boy. 
It had been nothing  
To ha' left him in the Porch; I called his Servants,  
With wonders they acknowledged him, I pretended  
It was some spice sure of the falling sickness,  
And that was charity to bring him home;  
They rubbed and chafed him, plied him with strong water,  
Still he was senseless, clamours could not wake him;  
I wished 'em then get him to bed, they did so,  
And almost smothered him with rugs and pillows;  
And cause they should have no cause to suspect me,  
I watched them till he waked.  Lur. 
'Twas excellent.  Boy. 
When his time came to yawn, and stretch himself,  
I bid 'em not be hasty to discover  
How he was brought home, his eyes fully open,  
With trembling he began to call his servants,  
And told 'em he had seen strange visions,  
That should convert him from his Heathen courses;  
They wondered, and were silent, there he preached  
How sweet the air of a contented conscience  
Smelled in his nose now, asked 'em all forgiveness  
For their hard pasture since they lived with him;  
Bid 'em believe, and fetch out the cold sirloin:  
Pierce the strong beer and let the neighbour's joy in't:  
The concealed Muskadine should now lie open  
To every mouth; that he would give toth' poor,  
And mend their wages; that his doors should be  
Open to every miserable suitor.  Lur. 
What said his servants then?  Boy. 
They durst not speak,  
But blessed themselves, and the strange means that had  
Made him a Christian in this overjoy,  
I took my leave, and bade 'em say their prayers,  
And humour him, lest he turned jew again.  Lur. 
Enough, enough. whose's this?  Enter Toby. 
'tis one of my ringers; stand close, my Lady's Coachman.  To. 
Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat;  
Would I were at rack and manger among my horses;  
We have divided the sexton's  
Household stuff amongst us, one has the rug, and he's  
Turned Irish, another has a blanket, and he must beg in't,  
The sheets serve another for a frock, and with the bed-cord,  
He may pass for a Porter, nothing but the mat would fall  
To my share, which with the help of a tune and a hassock  
Out o'th' Church may disguise me till I get home;  
A pox a bell-ringing by the Ear, if any man take me  
At it again, let him pull mine to the Pillory, I could wish  
I had lost mine Ears, so I had my clothes again;  
The weather won't allow this fashion,  
I do look for an ague besides.  Lur. 
How the Rascal shakes?  To. 
Here are company:  
Buy a mat for a bed, but a mat,  
A hassock for your feet, or a Piss clean and sweet;  
Buy a mat for a bed, by a ma:  
Ringing, I renounce thee, I'll never come to Church more.  Lur. 
You with a mat?  To. 
I am called.  
If any one should offer to buy my mat, what a case were I in?  
Oh that I were in my oat tub with a horse-loaf,  
Something to hearten me:  
I dare not hear 'em;  
Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat:  Lur. 
he's deaf.  To. 
I am glad I am: buy a mat for a bed.  Lur. 
How the Rascal sweats? What a pickle he's in?  
Every street he goes through will be a new torment,  To. 
If ever I meet at midnight more a jangling:  
I am cold, and yet I drop; buy a mat for a bed buy a mat.  Exit. Lur. 
He has punishment enough.  Enter Wildbrain. 
Who's this, my t'other youth? he is turned Bear.  Wi. 
I am half afraid of myself: this poor shift  
I got o'th' Sexton to convey me handsomely  
To some harbour, the wench will hardly know me;  
They'll take me for some Watchman o'th' parish;  
I ha' ne'er a penny left me, that's one comfort;  
And ringing has begot a monstrous stomach,  
And that's another mischief, I were best go home,  
For every thing will scorn me in this habit.  
Besides, I am so full of these young bell-ringers;  
If I get in adoors, not the power o'th' country,  
Nor all my aunt's curses shall disembogue me.  Lur. 
Bid her come hither presently,— hum, 'tis he.  Exit. Ser. Wil. 
I am betrayed to one that will eternally laugh at me,  
Three of these rogues will Jeer a horse to death.  Lur. 
'tis Mr. Wildbrain sure, and yet methinks  
His fashion's strangely altered; sirrah watchman,  
You rugamuffin, turn you lousy bear's skin:  
You with the bedrid bill.  Wi. 
Has found me out;  
There's no avoiding him, I had rather now  
Be arraigned at Newgate for a robbery  
Than answer to his Articles: your will sir,  
I am in haste.  Lur. 
Nay then I will make bold wi'ye;  
A Watchman and ashamed to show his countenance,  
His face of authority; I have seen that physiognomy;  
Were you never in prison for pilfering?  Wi. 
How the rogue worries me.  Lur. 
Why may not this  
Be the villain robbed my house last night,  
And walks disguised in this malignant rug,  
Armed with a ton of Iron, I will have you  
Before a Magistrate.  Wi. 
What will become of me?  Lur. 
What art thou? speak.  Wi. 
I am the wandering jew, and please your worship.  Lur. 
By your leave Rabbi, I will show you then  
A Synagogue, yclept Bridewell, where you  
Under correction may rest yourself;  
You have brought a bill to guard you, there be dog whips  
To firk such rugged curs, whips without bells  
Indeed.  Wi. 
Bells.  Lur. 
How he sweets?  Wi. 
I must be known, as good at first; now, jeer on,  
But do not anger me too impudently,  
The Rabbi will be moved then.  Lu. 
How? jacks Wildbrains  
What time o'th' Moon man, ha? what strange bells  
Hast in thy brains.  Wi. 
No more bells,  
No more bells, they ring backwards.  Lu. 
Why, where's the Wench, the blessing that befell thee?  
The unexpected happiness? where's that Jack?  
Where are thy golden days?  Wi. 
It was his trick as sure as I am lousy,  
But how to be revenged—  Lu. 
Fie, fie, Jack,  
Marry a Watchman's widow in thy young days,  
With a revenue of old Iron, and a rug,  
Is this the Paragon, the dainty Piece,  
The delicate divine Rogue?  Wi. 
'tis enough I am undone,  
Marked for a misery, and so leave prating;  
Give me my bill,  Lur. 
You need not ask your Tailors,  
Unless you had better linings; it may be  
To avoid suspicion you are going thus  
Disguised to your fair Mistress.  Wi. 
Mock no further,  
Or as I live I'll lay my bill o'thy pate,  
I'll take a Watchman's fury into my fingers,  
To ha' no judgement to distinguish persons  
And knock thee down.  Lu. 
Come, I ha' done, and now  
Will speak some comfort to thee, I will lead thee  
Now to my Mistress hither to concealed;  
She shall take pity on thee too, she loves  
A handsome man; thy misery invites me  
To do thee good, I'll not be jealous Jack;  
Her beauty shall commend itself; but do not  
When I have brought you into grace supplant me.  Wi. 
Art thou in earnest, by this cold Iron—  Lu. 
No oaths, I am not costive; here she comes:  Enter Mistress. 
Sweet heart, I have brought a gentleman,  
A friend of mine to be acquainted with you,  
He's other than he seems; why d''ee stare thus?  Mi. 
Oh sir, forgive me, I have done you wrong.  Lur. 
What's the matter? didst ever see her of re Jack?  Wi. 
Prithee do what thou wilt wi'me, if thou hast  
A mind, hang me up quickly.  Lur. 
Never despair, I'll give thee my share rather,  
Take her, I hope she loves thee at first sight,  
She has Petticoats will patch thee up a suit;  
I resign all, only I'll keep these trifles,  
I took some pains for 'em, I take it Jack;  
What think you pink of beauty, come let me  
Counsel you both to marry, she has a trade,  
If you have audacity to hook in Gamesters:  
Let's ha' a wedding, you will be wondrous rich;  
For she is impudent, and thou art miserable;  
'Twill be a rare match.  Mi. 
As you are a man forgive me, I'll redeem all.  Lur. 
You won't to these gear of marriage then?  Wi. 
No, no, I thank you Tom, I can watch for  
A groat a night, and be every gentleman's fellow.  Lur. 
Rise, and be good, keep home and tend your business.  Exit. Mi. Wi. 
Thou hast done't to purpose, give me thy hand Tom;  
Shall we be friends? thou seest what state I am in,  
I'll undertake this penance to my Aunt,  
Just as I am, and openly I'll go;  
Where, if I be received again for currant,  
And fortune smile once more—  Lur. 
Nay, nay, I me satisfied, so farewell honest lousy Jack.  Wi. 
I cannot help it, some men meet with strange destinies.  
If things go right thou mayst be hanged, and I  
May live to see't, and purchase thy apparel:  
So farewell Tom, commend me to thy Polecat.  Exit. Enter Lady, Nurse, Servant. La. 
Now that I have my counsel ready, and my cause ripe;  
The Judges all informed of the abuses;  
Now that he should be gone.  Nur. 
No man knows whether,  
And yet they talk he went forth with a Constable  
That told him of strange business, that would bring him  
Money and lands, and heaven knows what; but they  
Have searched, and can not find out such an Officer:  
And as a secret, Madam, they told your man  
Nicholas, whom you sent thither as a spy,  
They had a shrewd suspicion 'twas the devil  
I'th' likeness of a Constable, that has tempted him  
By this time to strange things; there have been men  
As rich as he, have met convenient rivers,  
And so forth; many trees have borne strange fruits:  
d'ye think he has not hanged himself?  La. 
If he be hanged, who has his goods?  Nur. 
They are forfeited, they say.  La. 
He has hanged himself for certain then,  
Only to cozen me of my girl's portion.  Nu. 
Very likely.  La. 
Or did not the Constable carry him to some prison?  Nu. 
They thought on that too, and searched everywhere.  La. 
He may be close for treason, perhaps executed.  Nu. 
Nay, they did look among the quarters too,  
And mustered all the bridge-house for his nightcap.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Madam, here is the gentleman again.  La. 
What gentleman?  Ser. 
He that loved my young Mistress.  La. 
Alas, 'tis Heartlove, 'twill but feed his melancholy,  
To let him see Maria, since we dare not  
Yet tell the world she lives; and certainly,  
Did not the violence of his passion blind him,  
He would see past her borrowed tongue and habit.  Nu. 
Please you entertain him a while Madam,  
I'll cast about for some thing with your daughter.  La. 
Do what thou wot, pray Mr. Hartlove enter.  Enter Hartlove. Exit. Ser. & Nurse severally. Ha. 
Madam, I come to ask your gentle pardon.  La. 
Pardon, for what? you ne'er offended me,  Ha. 
Yes, if you be the mother of Maria.  La. 
I was her mother, but that word is canceled,  
And buried with her in that very minute  
Her soul fled from her, we lost both our names  
Of mother and of daughter.  Ha. 
Alas, Madam,  
If your relation did consist but in  
Those naked terms, I had a title nearer,  
Since love unites more than the tie of blood;  
No matter for the empty voice of mother;  
Your nature still is left, which in her absence  
Must love Maria, and not see her ashes  
And memory polluted.  La. 
You amaze me, by whom?  Ha. 
By me, I am the vile profaner.  La. 
Why do you speak thus indiscreetly sir?  
You ever honoured her.  Ha. 
I did alive,  
But since she died, I ha' been a villain to her.  Le. 
I do beseech you say not so; all this  
Is but to make me know, how much I sinned  
In forcing her to marry.  Ha. 
Do not mock me,  
I charge you by the Virgin you have wept for;  
For I have done an impious act against her,  
A deed able to fright her from her sleep,  
And through her marble, oft to be revenged;  
A wickedness, that if I should be silent,  
You as a witness must accuse me for't.  La. 
Was I a witness?  Ha. 
Yes, you knew I loved  
Maria once; or grant, you did but think so,  
By what I ha' professed, or she has told you,  
Was't not a fault unpardonable in me,  
When I should drop my tears upon her grave.  
Yes, and propose sufficient.  La. 
To what?  Ha. 
That I forgetful of my fame and vows  
To fair Maria, ere the worm could pierce  
Her tender shroud, had changed her for another;  
Did you not blush to see me turn a Rebel?  
So soon to court a shadow, a strange thing,  
Without a name? Did you not curse my levity,  
Or think upon her death with the less sorrow  
That she had scaped a punishment more killing,  
Oh how I shame to think on't.  La. 
Sir in my  
Opinion, 'twas an argument of love  
To your Maria, for whose sake you could  
Affect one that but carried her small likeness.  Ha. 
No more, you are too charitable, but  
I know my guilt, and will from henceforth never  
Change words with that strange maid, whose innocent face  
Like your Maria's won so late upon me,  
My passions are corrected, and I can  
Look on her now, and woman kind, without  
Love in a thought; 'tis thus, I came to tell you.  
If after this acknowledgement, you'll be  
So kind to show me in what silent grave  
You have disposed your daughter, I will ask  
Forgiveness of all her dust, and never leave,  
Till with the loud confession of my shame  
I wake her ghost, and that pronounce my pardon:  
Will you deny this favour? then farewell,  
I'll never see you more: ha!  Enter Nurse, Maria in her own apparel, after some show of wonder he goes toward her. La. 
Be not deluded sir, upon my life  
This is the soul whom you but thought Maria  
In my daughter's habit; what did you mean Nurse?  
I knew she would but cozen you, is she not like now?  
One dew unto another is not nearer.  Nu. 
She thinks she is a gentlewoman;  
And that imagination has so taken her,  
She scorns to speak, how handsomely she carries it,  
As if she were a well bread thing, her body?  
And I warrant you, what looks?  La. 
Pray be not foolish.  Ha. 
I disturb nobody, speak but half a word  
And I am satisfied, but what needs that?  
I'll swear 'tis she.  La. 
But do not, I beseech you,  
For trust me sir, you know not what I know.  Ha. 
Peace then,  
And let me pray, she holds up her hands with me.  La. 
This will betray all.  Ha. 
Love ever honoured,  
And ever young, thou Sovereign of all hearts,  
Of all our sorrows, the sweet ease,  She weeps now, 
Does she still cozen me?  Nu. 
You will see anon,  
'Twas her desire, expect the issue Madam.  Ha. 
My souls so big, I cannot pray; 'tis she,  
I will go nearer.  Enter Algripe, Lurcher, Boy. Nur. 
Here's Mr. Algripe and other strangers Madam.  Al. 
Here good Lady,  
Upon my knees I ask thy worship's pardon;  
Here's the whole sum I had with thy fair daughter;  
Would she were living, I might have her peace too,  
And yield her up again to her old liberty:  
I had a wife before, and could not marry;  
My penance shall be on that man that honoured her  
To confer some land.  La. 
This is incredible.  Al. 
'tis truth.  Lur. 
Do you know me sir?  Al. 
Ha, the gentleman I deceived.  Lur. 
My name is Lurcher.  Al. 
shalt have thy mortgage.  Lur. 
I ha that already, no matter for the deed  
If you release it.  Al. 
I'll do't before thy witness;  
But where's thy sister? if she live I am happy, though  
I conceal our contract, which was  
Stolen from me with the evidence of this land.  The Boy goes to Maria and gives her a paper; she wonders, and smiles upon Hartlove, he amazed approaches her: afterward she shows it her mother, and then gives it to Hartlove. Nur. 
Your daughter smiles.  Lur. 
I hope she lives, but where, I cannot tell sir.  Boy. 
Even here, and please you sir.  Al. 
How?  Boy. 
Nay, 'tis she;  
To work thy fair way, I preserved you brother,  
That would have lost me willingly, and served ye  
Thus like a Boy; I served you faithfully,  
And cast your plots but to preserve your credit;  
Your foul ones I diverted to fair uses;  
So far as you would harken to my counsel;  
That all the world may know how much you owe me.  Al. 
Welcome entirely, welcome my dear Alathe,  
And when I lose the again, blessing forsake me:  
Nay, let me kiss thee in these clothes.  Lur. 
And I too,  
And bless the time I had so wise a sister, were't thou the little thief?  Boy. 
I stole the contract, I must confess,  
And kept it to myself, it most concern me.  Ha. 
Contracted? this destroys his after marriage.  Ma. 
Dare you give this hand  
To this young gentleman, my heart goes with it.  Al. 
Maria alive I how my hearts exalted, 'tis my duty;  
Take her Frank Hartlove, take her; and all joys  
With her; besides some land to advance her Jointure.  La. 
What I have is your own, and blessings crown ye.  Ha. 
Give me room,  
And fresh air to consider, gentlemen,  
My hopes are too high.  Ma. 
Be more temperate,  
Or I'll be Welsh again.  Al. 
A day of wonder.  Lur. 
Lady, your love, I ha' kept my word; there was  
A time, when my much sufferings made me hate you,  
And to that end I did my best to cross you:  
And fearing you were dead I stole your Coffin,  
That you might never more usurp my office:  
Many more knacks I did, which at the Weddings  
Shall be told of as harmless tales.  Enter Wildbrains. Shout within. Wi. 
Hallow your throats a pieces, I am at home;  
If you can roar me out again—  La. 
What thing is this?  Lur. 
A continent of fleas: room for the Pageant;  
Make room afore there; your kinsman Madam.  La. 
My kinsman? let me wonder!  Wi. 
Do, an I'll wonder too, to see this company  
At peace one with another; 'tis not worth  
Your admiration, I was never dead yet;  
You're merry Aunt, I see, and all your company:  
If ye be not, I'll fool up, and provoke ye;  
I will do any thing to get your love again:  
I'll forswear midnight Taverns and temptations;  
Give good example to your Grooms, the maids  
Shall go to bed and take their rest this year;  
None shall appear with blisters in their bellies.  Lur. 
And when you will fool again, you may go ring.  Wi. 
Madam, have mercy.  La. 
Your submission sir,  
I gladly take, we will  
inquire the reason of this habit afterwards;  
Now you are soundly shamed, well wi restore you:  
Where's Toby?  
Where's the Coachman?  Nur. 
he's a-bed, Madam,  
And has an ague, he says.  Lur. 
I'll be his Physician.  La. 
We must a foot then.  Lur. 
Ere the Priest ha' done  
Toby shall wait upon you with his Coach,  
And make your Flanders Mares dance back again wi'ye,  
I warrant you Madam you are mortified,  
Your suit shall be granted too.  Wi. 
Make, make room afore there.  La. 
Home forward with glad hearts, home child.  Ma. 
I wait you.  Ha. 
On joyfully, the cure of all our grief,  
Is owing to this pretty little These.  Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.