WIT IN A Constable.  
A Comedy written 1639.  
The Author HENRY GLAPTHORNE.  
And now Printed as it was lately Acted at the Cockpit in Drury lane, by their Majesty's Servants, with good allowance.  
LONDON: Printed by Io. Okes, for F. C. and are to be sold at his shops in Kings-street at the sign of the Goat, and in Westminster Hall. 1640.   

To the Right Honourable his singular good Lord THOMAS LORD WENTWORTH.  
My LORD!  
SO many are the noble attributes inherent to your Heroic Nature, that 'tis difficult to distinguish whither they be divers, or one entire virtue, but impossible to define which ought to be accounted the Superlative in so perfect a Harmony: to ascribe to one more than to another, were to derogate from the justice of either. I cannot therefore proclaim 'twas any particular, but your general Goodness which has emboldened me to intrude this Poem on the Patronage of your Name, as honourable in virtue as in Greatness: nor shall I tender any excuse for the presumption, since I am assured your Lordship cannot conceive an anger from the true devotion of  
Your humblest honourer, Hen: Glapthorne.   

The PROLOGUE.  
YOu need not fear me Gentlemen, although  
I come thus armed; 'tis but to let you know  
I am in office; in my own defence,  
And to secure me from the violence,  
Which might from you (who now my judges sit)  
Be offered to this Trophy of my wit:  
And cause I know that you will obey  
Authority, I do charge you, like the Play:  
Think who I am, how often I may catch  
You at ill hours in Taverns, or i'th' Watch;  
In Frays sometimes; nay sometimes (not to trench  
Too much upon you) with a pretty wench.  
All this is possible, and Gentlemen,  
Consider how my rage will use you then,  
If you should now, as sure 'tis worth your fear,  
Be in the censure of my wit severe,  
Vexed I'm implacable; and though the Tribe  
Of Constables do use't, I'll take no bribe  
To let you pass: These sturdy knaves will take  
Not the least mercy on you for my sake:  
Nor will the justice free you: (to your smart)  
You'll find, he and his clerk will take my part.  
I can but gently warn you to prevent  
A danger, nay a certain punishment,  
Should you dislike: for if the Play do fall  
Under your votes, I'll apprehend you all.   

EPILOGUE.  
ARe you resolved yet Gentlemen? I am  
In earnest haste of Town-affairs, and came  
To know your minds: how's that? there's one I spy  
That will dislike, to th' Counter instantly  
With him; entreats Sir, shall not prevail,  
Nor shall you think to come out upon bail.  
For in this case (believe it) I'd not spare  
(Though the sword were borne before him) my Lord Major;  
Nor should the Court of Aldermen reprieve  
For such a fact, my good friend Master Shreeve.  
If so severe to them then, who by vow,  
Are my own brethren? what will become of you?  
I have considered; and will now commit  
To your free votes the Censures of my wit.  
For though their dulness (whom I've threatened) may  
Dislike (you've wit) and will allow the play.   

The Persons in the Play.  

Thorough good, a young Gentleman, suitor to Clare.  
Valentine his friend, a suitor to Grace.  
Knowell their friend.  
Sir Timothy Shallowit, a Country Knight.  
Sir Geoffrey Holdfast, a Knight of Epping.  
Jeremy Holdfast, his Son.  
Alderman Covet.  
Busy, a Linen Draper, the Constable.  
Tristram, servant to Jeremy Holdfast.  
Formal, servant to Alderman Covet.  
A Parson.  
four watchmen.  
Clare, niece to Alderman Covet.  
Grace, his Daughter.  
Maudlin, servant to Clare.  
Nell, daughters to Busy.  
fiddler's boy, Drawer, Attendants.   
The Scene London.   

Wit in a Constable.  

Actus primus, Scena prima.  Enter Holdfast, Tristram. Holdfast. 
Did you ere we departed from the College  
o'erlook my library?  Trist. 
Yes sir, I spent two days in sorting Poets from Historians,  
As many nights in placing the divines  
On their own chairs, I mean their shelves, and then  
In separating Philosophers from those people  
That kill men with a licence: your Physicians  
Cost me a whole day's labour, and I find sir,  
Although you tell me learning is immortal,  
The paper and the parchment, 'tis contained in,  
Savours of much mortality.  Hold. 
I hope my books are all in health.  Trict. 
In the same case the Moths have left them, who have eaten more  
Authentic learning then would richly furnish  
A hundred country pedants; yet the worms  
Are not one letter wiser.  Hold. 
I have been idle  
Since I came up from Cambridge, go to my stationer  
And bid him send me Swarez Metaphysics,  
Tolet de anima is new forth,  
So are Granadus commentaries on  
Primum secundae Thomae Aquinatis,  
Get me the lyric Poets. And—  Trist. 
I admire  
How he retains these Author's names, of which  
He understands no syllable, 'twere better  
I bought the Authentic Legend of Sir Bevis,  
Some six new Ballads and the famous Poems  
Writ by the learned waterman.  Hold. 
john Taylor, get me his nonsense.  Trist. 
You mean all his works sir.  Hold. 
And a hundred of Booker's new Almanacs.  Trist. 
And the devil to boot,  
Your father's books in which he keeps th' accounts  
Of all his coin will scarce yield crowns to afford  
Your fancy volumes: why you have already  
Enough to furnish a new Vatican,  
A hundred country pedants can read dictates  
To their young pupils out of Seton's logic,  
Or Golius Ethics, and make them arrive,  
Proficients learned enough in one bare twelvemonth  
To instruct the parish they were borne in: you  
Out of an itch to this same foolish learning  
Bestow more money yearly upon books:  
Then would for convert sisters build an almshouse.  Hold. 
You will displease my patience Tristram.  Trist. 
I speak truth: if you should want, your learning scarce would make you  
Capable of being town clerk, or at best,  
To be a famous Tyrant unto boys,  
And wear out birch upon them: or perchance  
you may arrive to be the City Poet,  
And find the little moisture of your brain  
To grace a Lord mayor's festival with shows,  
Alluding to his trade, or to the company  
Of which he's free, these are the best preferments  
That can attend your learning.  Hold. 
I say Tristram, the spirit of my learning stirs me up  
To give thee due correction.  Trist. 
Would you study? as does young Thorowgood your noble x,  
Not books, but men which are true living volumes:  
You would like him, be held rich i'th' esteem  
Of all the illustrious wits that deck the city  
When the extent of your admirers is  
Confined to fresh men: and such youths as only  
Know how to frame a syllogism in Darij,  
And make the ignorant believe by Logic  
The Moons made of a Holland Cheese: and the man in't.  
A swag-bellied Dutch Burger Intras Thorowgood.  Thoro. 
x Holdfast, a good day attend  
Thy learned pia mater: prithee tell me  
How do the Cabalists and ancient Rabbins  
And thou agree? will they be sociable,  
And drink their morning's draught of Helicon  
With thee: have they instructed you to prove yet  
That the world runs on wheels? or that the sea  
May be drunk off by a shoal of Whales? such things  
You know there are in nature.  Hold. 
O far stranger.  Thoro. 
Peace you bookworm,  
Fit only to devour more paper than  
A thousand grand tobacco men or a legion  
Of boys in pellets to their eldern guns.  
Dost think to live this life still? you're not now  
Amongst your eves at Cambridge, but in London,  
Come up to see your mistress beauteous Clare,  
The glory of the city: go and court her,  
As does become a gentleman of carriage,  
Without your Tropes and figures inkhorn terms,  
Fit only for a mountebank or Pedant,  
Or all your Physics Metaphysics and Meteors,  
(Tomes larger far and more replete with lies,  
Than Surius, Gallobelgicus, or the welsh  
Bard Geoffrey Monmouth) shall be straightway made  
Pitiful Martyrs.  Hold. 
Why x I had thought.  Thoro. 
thyself an errant idiot, that's the fittest  
Thought for thy brain more dull than a fat Burghers,  
Or reverend country justices, whose wit  
Lies in his spruce clerk's standish, thou wert begot  
Surely i'th' wane o'th' Moon, when natures tools  
Were at lame Vulcan's forge a sharpening, thou art so lumpish.  Trist. 
He has already spoilt  
His eyes with prying on Geneva prints,  
And small dutch Characters: his watching makes him  
Look like a grandchild of old Errapater's,  
Some lean Astronomer, who to get ten shillings,  
For that's a large price for an Almanac,  
Has wasted himself to the bigness of his Jacob's staff,  
Which is so limber, 't cannot stand to take height of Venus rising.  Thoro. 
He says truth: besides your study has attained already,  
Learning enough to inform your mind the knowledge  
Of arts fit for a gentleman, wert not better  
For you my sprightful senior to advance  
Your beaver with a hatband of the last  
Edition in the Court, among the noblest  
Youths of our nation, than to walk like Faustus,  
Or some high German conjurer, in a cap  
Fit for a Costermonger, to wear your pearl  
Or cut work, band then this small slip of linen  
That's proper only for Tom Thum: or some of queen Mab's gentlemen-ushers.  Trist. 
This Cassock were a pretty garment for a fortuneteller.  Thoro 
And this cloak of tinder comely for a ballad-seller,  
Life sir, you are borne here to an ample fortune,  
Your father absent knows not how you've altered  
Your disposition: I must reclaim it,  
Thou shalt with me and court the beauteous Clare  
Reserved for thee, a purpose i'th' mean time,  
Our chief companions, shall be wits more pure,  
Than your quick sophisters, or sly logicians,  
we'll talk of the bright beauties of the age,  
Girls whose each look deserves to be a theme  
For all the nimble poets, two days practise  
In our brave arts will teach thee to forget  
Philosophy as fruitless and abjure  
All other Ethics, but what's used 'mongst us, as most erroneous.  Hold. 
Well You shall persuade me, I'll be an errant ass, or any thing  
For thy sake coz, but shall we have such wenches  
As are at Cambridge, handsome as peg Larkin.  Thoro. 
O far before her, x thou shalt read  
Aretius' Politics; and Ovid's Art,  
Shall be new read, thee and we will refine  
Thy Academic wit with bowls of wine.  Hold. 
Tristram shall toth' College and sell my books immediately.  Thoro. 
Speak like the son of Phoebus and my x.  Trist. 
My studious master.  Thoro. 
Sell thy Dictionary.  Hold. 
I'll not keep a prayer book.  Thoro. 
They are out of fashion.  Hold. 
Nor a Calendar, to look the age o'th' Moon in, Trist. be sure  
You burn Green's groats worth of wit; I scorn to keep  
The name of wit about me.  Trist. 
'tis confessed sir, but for the numerous Rheims of paper, which  
Are piled up in your study, give them me,  
I have a brother in law i'th' town's a cook,  
I'll give them him to put under his bake meats.  Hold. 
Take them: I will not leave a pen within my lodging,  
I will forget to write, or set my hand to any thing.  Thoro. 
Unless 't be to a bond.  Hold. 
I'll go put this blessed design in execution,  
x anon I'll meet you at your chamber.  Thoro. 
What in that reverend shape? the gentlemen  
That I converse with, will believe thee some Itinerant  
Scholar, have thee whipped by th' statute.  Hold. 
I would be loath, now I am past a fresh man to be had into the butteries.  Thoro. 
Still them terms? study to forget them, I'll send my  
Man to you with a new suit of mine I never wore yet,  
Be sure to put it on right, you mere Scholars  
Know no degree of garment above Serge,  
Or Satanisco: tie your bandstrings neatly  
And do not eat the buttons off, put not  
Your Cuffs both on one hand; 'twill tax your judgement  
Of new inventing fashions when accoutred,  
Come to my chamber, and I'll furnish you  
With language fit to accost your mistress.  Hold. 
Rare, I've got more learning from him in half an hour,  
Then in a whole life's practice out of books.  
Follow me Tristram, farewell dear x. Ex. Hold. Trist.  Thoro. 
How I could laugh now, were my spleen large enough: a  
Hundred such lame stupid Idiots were enough, if married,  
To precise Burghers daughters to replenish  
The city with a race of fools, and root  
The stock of knaves quite out of it, he loves books:  
Not that he has a scruple more of learning  
Then will suffice him to say grace, but like  
Some piteous cowards, who are oft thought valiant  
For keeping store of weapons in their chambers,  
He loves to be esteemed a doctor by  
His volumes: but I shall fit his scholarship: whose's these?  
Alderman Covets, Formal, byth' proportion: Ent. Formal and Clare.  
That rib of man's flesh should be Clare, dost hear  
My honest Cadis garters: who for care  
And close attendance on thy charge deserves  
To be grand porter to the great Turk's Seraglia: how hight that veiled damsel?  Form. 
She has been at Britain's burse a buying pins & needle  
To work a nightcap for my master sir.  Thor. 
Pox upon him, is not her name Clare, niece to Alderman Covets  For. 
Her father was a country Squire of large revenue and her mother.  Thoro. 
I shall be forced to hear him blaze her pedigree,  
I'd beat him, but that clubs and paring shovels o'th' city  
Would be so busy about my ears: they'd spoil  
My hearing two months after Gentle Lady  
Pardon my error if I do mistake, are not you mistress Clare?  Clar. 
Formal at last, would have resolved you, and I held my  
Peace of purpose, cause I knew his slow discovery would vex  
Your nimble patience  Tho. 
You are a gipsy, but does thy uncle's humour hold of wedding  
His daughter to sir Timothy.  Clar. 
Yes, or to young monsieur Holdfast whom he says is  
Learned enough to make Cheapside a College,  
And all the City a new Academy, but have you  
Thorowgood performed what I advised you to?  Thoro. 
Yes, my girl: good Formal use thy motion to convey  
Thy ears a little farther off, there's money  
To buy thee a new pair of garters: Clare  
Thou shalt no more behold me in the garb  
And noble ornament I used to wear, my fashion shall be altered.  Clar. 
To the scholars,  
Young Holdfasts likeness.  Thoro. 
O by all means girl, thou shalt behold this comely hat transformed  
To frugal brim, and steeple crown, this band  
Of fair extent changed to a modern cut,  
Narrower than a precisian's: all this gay  
And gaudy silk I will convert to Serge  
Of limber length: like some spruce student (newly  
Exalted for saying grace well, to be fellow  
Oth' College he had studied) I will  
Salute thy reverent Uncle's spectacles,  
And without fear of his gold chain, I'll woe thee  
In metaphors and tropes Scholastic till  
The doting Senator with a liberal hand give  
Thee his dainty darling to become my spouse inseparable.  Clar. 
This suits well with my directions.  Thoro. 
True girl true, farewell Clare,  
I kiss thy white hand: Sir resume your charge,  
I've done my errand: let not your old Sir Amiar,  
Know of this conference, if you do, that twist  
Of spinners thread, on which your life depends Exe. Clare. & formal.  
Shall be shorn off like a horse mane. Farewell.  Form. 
Man's life indeed is but a thread, good day sir. Ent. Valentine & Sir Timothy.  Thor. 
Attend your charge friend, Valentine, Sir Timothy.  
You're well encountered, may I inquire the affair  
Which happily has brought you up toth' City?  Thoro. 
May I know it? is't not to purchase a Monopoly  
For Salt and Herrings? for state business,  
Unless it be to see the great new ship,  
Or lincoln's Inn fields built: I'm sure you none here.  Tim. 
Very right sir.  Thor. 
But for thee: my noble man of merit, thou art welcome,  
we'll be as kind to one another boy,  
And witty as brisk poets in their wine,  
we'll court the black browed beauties of the time,  
And have by them the height of our desires: with ease accomplished  Val. 
Noble Thorowgood,  
Did I not own you by the name of friend,  
Already these endearments would engage me to beg that title.  Tim. 
Very right, and me too.  
I know you for the most Egregious knight  
In all the country.  Thor. 
You sir, you've reason,  Tim. 
Very right, I am indeed esteemed so.  Thor. 
One that live on Onions and Corn-salads.  Tim. 
Right again,  
Sure he can conjure, I had one to my breakfast.  Thor. 
Nay no Herald  
Can better blaze your pedigree. I've heard  
Your father my most worthy knight, was one  
That died a knave to leave you so.  Tim. 
Passing right still.  Thor. 
And pray right witty, and right honoured sir,  
What may your business seem to be i'th' city.  
Are you come up to learn new fashions?  Tim. 
Exceeding right again.  Thor. 
To change this ancient garment to a new one  
Of a more spruce edition.  Val. 
Yes, but before,  
For I am privy unto all's intentions,  
He means to see and court his mistress.  Thor. 
Who's that? my doughty Imp of spur and sword,  
Some fair Dulcina de Toboso.  Val. 
No, 'tis Grace, daughter to Alderman Covet.  Thor. 
I do commend thee my dear Don, and will  
Be thy assistant, go and see thy horse dressed,  
And then approach my chamber.  Tim. 
Very right, I kiss your finger's end. Ex. Timothy.  Thor. 
Do you, Valentine, know  
The Lady he intends to Court.  Val. 
Only by report,  
Which speaks her most accomplished.  Thor. 
Oh she'll make  
An excellent Ass of him: she has a wit  
More sharp and piercing than a wasp's sting, she speaks  
All fire; each word is able to burn up  
A thousand such poor Mushrooms: had her mother  
Not been held honest, I should have believed  
She'd been some courtier's By-blow, or that some  
Quick Poet got her.  Val. 
How's her feature?  Thor. 
Rare, past expression, singular, her eyes  
The very spheres of love, her cheeks his throne,  
Her lips his paradise, and then her mind  
is far more excellent than her shape.  Val. 
You give her a brave Character; is't possible  
To have a sight of her?  Tho. 
Yes, by my means, scarce otherwise wilt thou have her,  
Speak but a syllable, 't shall be performed  
As sure as if Don Hymen, in his robes  
Had ratified the contract.  Val. 
You are merry sir.  Thor. 
When didst thou know me otherwise: yet now  
In sober sadness friend, couldst thou affect  
A woman, as there's few of them worth loving,  
Thou canst not make a nobler choice: I'll bring thee  
On to the skirmish, but if thou retreat,  
Beat back by th' hot Artillery of her wit,  
Which will play fast upon thee: mayst thou live  
To be enamoured on some stale Hay, or Matron  
Of fourscore, that may congeal thee to a frost  
Sooner than forty winters: or be wed  
To an insatiate Chambermaid.  Val. 
Defend me  
From thy last curse; fear not my valour.  Thor. 
This fool shall serve both her and us for sport:  
Let's to our task; and if our project hit,  
I'll swear all fortune is comprised in wit. Exeunt.  
Explicit Actus primus.   

Actus secundus. Scena prima.  Covet, Clara, Maudlin. Cov. 
YOu will provoke me.  Clar. 
No matter:  
Although you be my uncle, and so nature  
Binds me to observe you, I'll not be obliged  
To what the phlegmatic humour of your age  
Strives to enforce upon me: I was borne  
Free, an inheritress to an ample fortune,  
Of which you do pervert the use, and trust me,  
I'll be no longer tame and suffer it.  Cov. 
Suffer what? you're used  
Too well: if you complain of this, I shall  
Study to be more harsh.  Clar. 
Do; you shall not, as you had wont,  
Think to attire me in black Grogram,  
Daubed o'er with Satin lace, as if I were  
Daughter, and heir apparent to a Tailor,  
Who from the holiday Gowns of six neat fishwives  
Had stole the remnants made the thrifty garment.  
Nor shall you sir (as 'tis a frequent custom,  
Cause you're a worthy Alderman of a Ward.)  
Feed me with Custard, and perpetual White-broth,  
Sent from the Lord Majors, or the Shreive's feast,  
And here preserved ten days, (as 'twere in pickle)  
Till a new dinner from the common hall  
Supply the large defect.  Cov. 
You'll leave this language?  Clar. 
Leave to use me so then:  
Y'ave made myself, your daughter, and my woman,  
Sup with a pennyworth of lettuce, under  
Pretence 'twould make us sleep well: your full morsels  
(Had not the virtue of Clay wall, and Oatmeal  
Preserved my maid) ere this she'd been shrunk up  
Toth' bigness of a Squirrel.  Maud. 
Any Dwarf  
might without stretching his small fingers, have  
Spanned me about the waste.  Clar. 
Nor shall you,  
(As sure 'tis your intention) marry me  
To th' quondam foreman of your shop, (exalted  
To be your Cashkeeper) a limber fellow,  
Fit only for dear Nan, his schoolfellow,  
A grocer's daughter, borne in Bread-street, with  
Whom he has used to go to Pimblico,  
And spend ten groats in Cakes and Christian Ale,  
And by the way has courted her with fragments,  
Stolen from the learned Legends of Knights Errants,  
Or from the glory of her father's trade,  
The Knight o'the Burning Pestle.  Cov. 
Sure the Devil  
Has entered her i'th' likeness of an Eel,  
Her tongue's so slippery: Minion—  Clar. 
I'll not be frighted  
As are your Prentices, with Little ease,  
Or showing them the Beadle. In plain terms,  
I do not mean to incorporate with a Salter,  
Or any of those thriving trades, to have  
My shoes licked o'er each saturday night  
Byth' under prentice; they shine so brightly  
With soot and kitchen-stuff, that I next morning  
May spare my glass, and dress my head by their  
Greasy reflection: yet let me tell you,  
I must be married instantly a virgin:  
Of my full age, setting aside all niceness  
May justly claim a husband.  Cov. 
Have but patience, I'll wed thee to a Knight.  Clare. 
What is he, one o'th' Post sir, or some such  
As was in the old famous Ballad mentioned:  
He that has forty pounds per annum, by  
Which Charter I should be undutiful,  
And take the wall of my aged grandam: No,  
I'll have a Courtly gentleman, whose wit  
Shall equal his estate, and that so large,  
As't shall afford me a sufficient jointure.  Cov. 
This Knight shall do't, or if you like not him,  
What say you to Sir Geoffrey Holdfast's son,  
The famous Scholar?  Clare. 
If he be a Parson;  
And I his wife, I sure shall make my friends  
Lucky to horseflesh: No, I will have one  
That shall maintain my Coach, and four fair horses:  
Not such thin jades, nor such a crazy Chariot,  
As i've seen used by Citizens to convey  
Their wives with leisure to their Country houses,  
(For fear the late Plumpudding they had eaten  
Fried to their Breakfast, should with too much jogging  
Broil on their queasy stomachs) One that shall  
Maintain me a Sedan, and two strong varlets,  
That so I may not need the Common men Mules,  
With their wood-Litters, with nineteen at end of them,  
The usual shelters, which the Gallants carry  
Their wenches to their Chambers in: In brief,  
If you can find me anywhere a husband  
That I can like, I will allow your choice;  
If not, I'll take my own; so good day to you.  
Pray meditate upon it. Ex. Clare, Maud:  Cov. 
This is the maddest wench: would I were rid of her,  
She vexes me more than her Portion's worth;  
But if she stoop not to my Country Knight,  
Sir Timothy Shallow-wit, or to young Holdfast,  
(Whom I had rather marry to my daughter)  
She shall ha' grazing.  Enter formal. For. 
Sir, there are a brace of gentlemen without,  
Desire admittance to you.  Cov. 
Let them enter.  For. 
I shall denote your pleasure. Ex. For.  Cov. 
Some young heirs,  
To borrow money upon Mortgages.  Enter Holdfast, Brave, Tristram. Hol. 
I shall observe my cousin's rule, ne'er fear me.  Cov. 
Save you sir.  Hol. 
You do not think me damned sir, you bestow  
That salutation on me.  Cov. 
Good sir no.  
Whom would you speak with here?  Hol. 
Sir, my discourse  
Points at one Alderman Covet.  Cov. 
I am the party.  Hol. 
Good Mr. Covet, I covet your acquaintance:  
I understand you have a daughter is  
Of most unknown perfections.  Cov. 
She is as heaven made her.  Hold. 
She goes naked then,  
The tailor has no hand in her; may I see her?  Cov. 
I must desire your name first.  Hold. 
My name is Holdfast.  Cov. 
Son to sir Geff. Holdfast.  Hold. 
His proper son and heir, and I am come  
To see your Daughter and your Niece.  Cov. 
Came you from Cambridge lately.  Hold. 
I come from Cambridge:  
What do you see in these my looks, should make you  
Judge me such a coxcomb.  Cov. 
Your father writ me word, his son that should  
Come up to see my Daughter and my Niece,  
Was a rare scholar, wholly given to's books.  Hold. 
My father was an arrant ass for's labour,  
I ne'er read book in all my life, except  
The Counter scuffle, or the merry Gossips,  
Raynard the Fox, Tom Thumb, or Gargantua,  
And those i've quite forgotten: I a scholar!  
He lies in's throat that told you so.  Trist. 
On my Conscience  
You may believe him: he scarce ere saw book,  
Unless the Chronicle in an iron Chain,  
In's fathers Hall: for learning sir, except  
What's in a Horse, a Hawk, or hound, he knows not  
How to expound your meaning.  Cov. 
I mar'le sir Geff. knowing my aversion  
From any of these courses, should bring up  
His son to all of them: nay, write me word,  
Knowing my love to learning, he had him  
A scholar purposely: pray sir resolve me,  
Are you sir Geffrey's son?  Hold. 
I am a Bastard else.  Cov. 
Sir Geffrey's son of Epping?  Hold. 
Yes, of Epping,  
One that will venture five hundred pounds upon his horse,  
Soon as the proudest he that lives in London,  
I'll play my crop-ear 'gainst my Lord Major's Steed,  
And all his furniture: I do intend  
To scour Hide Park this summer.  Trist. 
didst give him  
His Oats this morning? Shall I see your daughter.  
Did he drink's water hastily? Your Niece  
I'd be acquainted with.  Cov. 
Sir, you must pardon me, you're not the man  
I took you for.  Hold. 
You did not take me for an Ass I hope.  Cov. 
O by no means, but they cannot be seen  
Conveniently this morning: another time,  
At your best leisure, I shall not deny you.  
Please you walk in, and taste our Beer?  Hold. 
I know 'tis but o'th' sixes; and I hate  
liquour of that complexion: pray commend me  
To both my sweethearts. Tristram come let's back,  
And, as my x says, drink lusty sack.  Exeunt Holdfast and Tristram. Cov. 
There's some deceit in this, perhaps some gallant,  
Knowing my purpose with Sir Geoffrey Holdfast,  
Has ta'en his name upon him: I'll dispatch  
A messenger straight to him: whom have we here?  Enter Thoroug. and formal. Form. 
Sir, that's the Alderman my Master.  Thor: 
Is this the venerable Man, to whom  
This goodly Mansion is impropriate:  
I should negotiate with his reverence  
About authentic business.  Covet 
This rather  
Should be sir Geff. son, his words and habit  
Speak him most learned. I'm the person, pray  
Let me be bold to crave your name.  Thor. 
My appellation or pronomen, as  
(It is termed by the Latins) is hight jeremy,  
But my Cognomen, as the English gather,  
Is called Holdfast.  Cov. 
This is he certainly; are you, I pray  
Sir Geffrey's son of Epping?  Thor. 
The Nominals, the Thomists, all the sects  
Of old and modern Schoolmen, do oblige me,  
To pay to that Sir Geoffrey filial duty.  Cov. 
I'm glad to hear it, t'other was some varlet,  
I shall find out and punish: Sir, you're welcome;  
I guess your business; 'tis about a match,  
Or with my Niece, or Daughter: which you like,  
Shall be at your dispose: if not, your business.  Thor. 
My business is of procreation, or as  
The Civil Lawyers learnedly do paraphrase,  
Is of concomitance, Cohabitation,  
Or what you please to term it.  Cov. 
How am I blessed, that this rare scholar shall  
Be matched into my family? Within there;  
Niece, Daughter, both come hither.  Thor. 
One at once sir,  
'twill satisfy; the Canon does prohibit  
Us Polygamy.  Enter Clara, Gray. Cov. 
Sir, this is my only daughter, this my niece,  
Pray know them better.  Thor. 
Fair types, nay Orbs of beauty, I salute you,  
Each in his proper altitude.  gray. 
Heyday, this is some Fortune-teller.  Clare. 
'tis Thorowgood, you must not seem to know him.  Cov. 
Daughter and Niece, this is a gentleman,  
My care has picked out, as a most fit husband  
For one of you; which he can soonest fancy,  
Hear him but speak, and he will put you down  
Ten Universities, and inns of Court,  
in twenty syllables. Good Mr. Holdfast  
Speak learnedly to th'wenches; though I say't,  
They have both good capacities.  Thor. 
Most rubicund, stelliferous splendent Ladies,  
The ocular faculties, by which the beams  
Of love are darted into every soul,  
Or humane essence, have into my breast  
Conveyed this lady's lustre: and I can  
Admire no other object; therefore beauty  
Your pardon, if I only do address  
In terms Scholastic, and in Metaphors  
My phrase to her.  gray. 
I shall not  
Envy my cousin's happiness.  Thor. 
You're full of Candour;  
if you will love me Lady, I'll approach your ears,  
Not in a garb Domestic, or terms vulgar,  
But hourly change my language, court you now,  
In the Chaldean, or Arabic tongues,  
Expound the Talmud to you, and the rabbins,  
Then read the Dialect of the Alanites,  
Or Ezion Gebor, which the people use  
Five leagues beyond the Sunrising, in stead  
Of pages to attend you, I will bring  
Sects of Philosophers and quaint Logicians,  
we'll Procreate by learned art, and I  
Will generate new broods of Scholars on you,  
Which shall defend opinions far more various  
Than all the Sectaries of Amsterdam  
Have ever vented.  Covet. 
Learned, learned young man,  
How happy am I in thee?  Thor. 
Do but love,  
I'll call the Muses from the sacred hill  
To Enucleat your beauty: I myself  
(After in loftier numbers I have sung  
Your famed Encomiums) will convert to poet,  
And for your sake I'll write the city annals,  
In famous meeter which shall far surpass  
Sir Guy of Warwick's history: or john stow's upon  
The custard with the four and twenty Nooks  
At my Lord Major's feast.  Cov. 
How am I ravished!  Thor. 
Whose brave show hereafter  
Shall be no more set forth with stalking pageants,  
Nor children ride for angels nor loud actors  
Pronounce bold speeches, I will teach his Henehboyes  
Sergeants and trumpeters to act and save  
The city all that charges: Nay I'll make a new  
Found engine; which without fire shall keep his  
white-broth warm till his return from Westminster  
Nor shall the Aldermen's daughters, who have  
Dreamt at least six nights before of guilded  
Marchpane, forfeit their serious longing: I'll have  
Horses with their Saint George's on them, that shall gallop  
Into their handkerchers.  Clar. 
You promise wonders.  Covet. 
Hold your tongue, he's able  
To perform more by's learning.  Thor. 
The cross  
And standard in Cheapside I will convert  
To Hercules' pillars: and the little conduit  
That weeps in lamentation for the Church,  
Removed that did lean on, it shall be still  
Like the great tun at Heidelberg filled with wine,  
And always running, that the prentices  
Shall not on Sundays need to frequent Taverns,  
And forfeit their indentures.  Covet. 
Still more miraculous.  Thor. 
The great conduit  
Shall be a magazine of sack, and Smithfield  
A Romish Cirque or Grecian Hippodrom,  
My Lord mayor's jennet shall not die without  
An Elegy, nor any citizen break,  
But have a doleful ditty writ upon him.  Val. 
Save you gentlemen.  Covet. 
Noble sir Timothy, and your friend both  
Welcome, this is my niece, & that my daughter, pray  
Be pleased to know them, Sir honour me to walk,  
I'd have some private conference with you,  
The house sir Timothy is at your command.  Grace. 
x what would these gentlemen?  Clare. 
Truth I know not,  
I'll venture my discretion to his nose there,  
And that appears a rich one, they are two  
Country Idiots whom thy father would  
Put upon us for husbands.  Grace. 
Very likely,  
Pray gentlemen your business.  Tim. 
Speak for me Valentine.  Val. 
Ladies we're come to see you, fame does give  
You the attribute of fair and witty.  Clare. 
Yet our wits you see sir will not serve to keep  
Fools from our company.  Tim. 
Very right i'faith.  Val. 
That tartness  
Becomes you prettily, and might serve to fright  
Young linendrapers or some milliner  
That does with gloves and bracelets stolen from's  
Master court you, a haberdasher would have shaked  
His blockhead (as if he had been trying a Dutch  
Felt out) and with a shrug departed, but we are  
Gentlemen Ladies, and no city foremen  
That never dare be venturous on a beauty,  
Unless when wenches take them up at plays  
To entice them at the next licentious Tavern  
To spend a supper on them, we are creatures  
Deserve you at your best and noblest value,  
And so expect you'll use us.  Tim. 
Very right, this is  
A country gentleman my neighbour I,  
A trusty and courageous country knight.  Clare. 
I do believe you sir, your face does tell me,  
You're one that feed on bacon and bagpudding,  
Your nose by its complexion does betray  
Your frequent drinking country Ale with lant in't,  
Have you no hobnails in your boots, driven in  
To save the precious leather from the stones  
That pave the streets of London.  Grace. 
Is not sir your  
Cloak new turned, the aged three piled velvet  
Was not your grandams petticoat this jerkin  
Made by your grandsire at his first translation  
From Clown to Gentleman, and since reserved  
An heir long to the family, and this sword  
The parish weapon?  Tim. 
Very right again.  Clare. 
Now for you sir.  
Who of two fools do yet appear the wisest,  
Can your ingenious noddle think that we  
Bred in the various pleasures of the city,  
Would for your sake turn beasts and graze i'th' country,  
We cannot milk, make wholesome cheese, nor butter,  
And sell it at next market and lay up  
Out of the precious Income as much coin  
In thread bare groats, mill-sixpences, and pence,  
As will suffice to find the house in Candles  
And Soap a twelvemonth after.  Grace. 
Nor can we  
Spin our own smocks out of the flax which grows  
Behind your Dovehouse, no. nor card the wool  
Must make us petticoats things (to say truth)  
Not worth the taking up.  Val. 
They've Magic in their tongues  
They have so daunted me, I think I shall  
Turn fool and get me 'em without reply.  Clare. 
All the company,  
We can enjoy there is each day to walk  
To the next farmer's wife, whose whole discourse  
Is what price Barley bears, or how her husband  
Should his last yoke of Oxen: other meetings  
We cannot have, except it be at Church-ales,  
When the sweet bagpipe does draw forth the  
Damsels to frisk about the May poles, or at  
Weddings, where the best cheer is, wholesome  
stewed broth made of legs of pork and turnips.  Grace. 
Yes, at Christenings, where the good  
Wives, stead of burnt Wine and comfits,  
Drink healths to th' memory of all christian souls  
In Ale, scarce three hours old: eat cakes more tough  
Than glue or farthing gingerbread: then talk  
Of the last Blazing Star, or some new monster:  
Then drink, and cry heaven bless us from the Spaniard,  
While the learned vicar's wife expounds the Ballad  
Of 'twas a Lady's daughter in Paris properly,  
And so breaks up the wise assembly.  Val. 
And you  
That are the precious paragons of the City,  
Who scorn these harmless sports: can have your meetings  
At Islington, and Green Goose fair, and sip  
A zealous glass of Wine till the parched floor  
Be moistened with your virgin dew, then prattle  
How that you dreamed last night that john the Mercer,  
Or Tom the draper's man at London-stone  
Was in your bed, and what sweet work he made there.  Tim. 
Very right, and kissed you oftener  
than ere the good man did his Cow, and hugged you  
As the Devil hugged the Witch, that's right now.  Val. 
When you're married  
(For that you will be, or else run away  
With Costermongers, Mountebanks, or Tailors)  
Your husbands are more subject to you then  
Their bondmen are, whom by profuse expense  
You break beyond redemption from the Indies, the  
straits, or Barbary, see them lodged in Ludgate,  
And then turn pricking sempsters, till that trade  
Failing, you take yourselves (as to the last refuge)  
To the old occupation; till the Marshal  
Carry you to Bridewell, of which you're free,  
Even by your father's charters that have been  
Sometimes the masters of it, there I'll leave you,  
So farewell wildcats.  Tim. 
Very right as I am a gentleman.  Grace. 
I like his spirit well Clare, such a many  
Or none shall be my husband. Enter Thorowgood.  Thor. 
help me to laugh good wenches, I have talked  
Thy Uncle Clare into so free an humour,  
That he's resolved straight to take forth the licence,  
And marry us i'th' morning.  Clare. 
What odd fellow's this?  
Know you him x Grace.  Thor. 
Prithee good wit no more, we've overcome  
All foreign enemies, and 'tis unfit  
To war among ourselves.  Grace. 
This is the pedant  
My father brought to mock us, good thine stuff,  
Get thee home to thy parish,  
And instruct  
Thy people wholesome Doctrine, for us,  
We have no zeal to learn.  Thor. 
Life they'll persuade me out of myself,  
Clare, Grace, know you not me, not Thorowgood.  Amb. 
Thorowgood, pray put your tricks on somebody,  
More easy to be wrought on, Thorowgood, Ha, ha, ha. Exe.  Thor. 
What should these wenches mean, the five and shears  
Cannot resolve this mystery; they know me  
Better than I can know myself: 'twas she  
Advised me to this habit to deceive  
Her uncle's prying eyes, and why then  
Should they abuse me thus? the rest were made  
But fools in Quarto, but I find myself  
An ass in Folio: I'll away, and if  
I quit them not with an abuse as fine,  
I'll say there is no quickening spirit in wine. Exit.  
Explicit Actus Secundus.   

Actus Tertius, Scena prima.  Enter Thorowgood, Valentine Knowell. Know. 
ARE they so witty sayst thou?  Val. 
You'd best try  
The acuteness of their intellects.  Thor. 
You may endeavour  
With the large talon of your masculine wit  
To exceed their female sharpness you shall find,  
Though you firm and stiff in your defence,  
These city lasses able to take down  
Your most courageous fury: pray endeavoured.  Know. 
That gentleman, were to usurp your presence,  
I find no inclination, yet I thank you,  
To rest a fool upon record as you do.  Val. 
How's that, my imp of understanding?  Know. 
By being so egregiously abused  
By two poor City infants, things that never  
Have heard wit named, unless 'twas when their father  
Has called his Formal foreman witty varlet,  
For cheating handsomely, had they been some  
Illustrious dames, the glory of Cheapside,  
Stars of the City, that are daily haunted  
By this great Lord that courtly kiss their gossips,  
It had been possible their conversation  
Might have instilled into them so much language  
And wit sufficient to withstand the assaults  
Of some young Inns courtman.  Thor. 
Yes, who never  
Had mooted in the hall or seen the revels  
Kept in the house at Christmas.  Know. 
Some such gamester might have  
Come oft with credit, though he'd ventured  
His whole estate of wit on them and lost it,  
But you the rooks o'th' age to be o'erdone  
At your own game by city girls.  Val. 
Thou art an ass,  
A very coxcomb, there are girls i'th' City  
Able to o'erdo at their own game a hundred  
Such feeble fellows as thyself, but Thorowgood,  
Leaving this infidel to his misbelief,  
Are you resolved that I shall undertake  
The new design we plotted?  Thor. 
With what speed  
Can be convenient, sir Timothy  
Shall be our instrument.  Know. 
If there be wit in't,  
Honour me to assist you.  Thor. 
A revenge  
Upon these peevish wenches, one of them  
Loves me entirely, nay has vowed me a marriage,  
And did advise me to assume this shape,  
To cheat her uncle.  Val. 
And for the other,  
By many a shroud cast of her eye upon me,  
I do suspect for all her quaint dissembling,  
She's taken with my good parts. Enter Maudlin.  Thor. 
Thy face I must confess,  
Is full of choice allurements, see there maid,  
How fares it with your witty mistress,  
My gallant type of beauty, is the stomach,  
Come down, I'm sure you are furnished  
With some excuse or lamentable epistle,  
To reconcile me to them.  Maud. 
Sir I am  
As ignorant of the interpretation of your words,  
As of your person.  Thor. 
she not know me neither?  Maud. 
But if there be one Valentine among you,  
A well accomplished gentleman.  Val. 
That's I, that's I.  Maud. 
Then sir,  
I would require your privacy some minutes.  Val. 
we'll be as private as thou wilt, my girl,  
Your patience gentlewoman.  Know. 
I wonder Thorowgood what business  
She can have with him.  Thor. 
he'll declare it.  
See they are parting.  Val. 
Tell them I'll advise on't.  Maud. 
You will be speedy. Exit Maudlin.  Val. 
Yes, yes, ne'er doubt my haste, say I me their servant.  Thor. 
The business Valentine.  Val. 
Dost not thou know it,  
Even by instinct?  Know. 
We cannot prophesy.  Val. 
Thou art a fool then,  
Does not the harmony of my good parts  
Speak me the conqueror of all beauties Thorowgood.  
The wenches are on fire for me.  Tho. 
Their bloods  
Are always hot i'th' dog-days: but good Valentine  
Be serious, did their maid bring news of love  
From either of them?  Val. 
From both, from both, now wert for the statute,  
That Bigamy my tender conscience  
Would not much be oppressed to have two wives,  
But one of them thy Pinnace, thou shalt man her:  
But I delay too long, I must go meet them;  
I long to be a kissing, pray heaven their breath  
Smell not of Marmalade, 'twill turn my stomach.  Tho. 
You'll practise our design I hope.  Val. 
Methodically: farewell boys. Ex. Val.  Tho. 
Pray be you Sir Timothy, know his entrance:  
'tis such another madcap my Scene is.  Enter Holdfast. Hold. 
Nay, come forward Land lord Spoilt else. Trist. Bus.  
'tis my Cousin's lodgings, pray be bold in't,  
As is my Chamber. x this is a Constable.  Tho. 
He comes not with a warrant.  Hold. 
No, I'll warrant you, I  
Brought him Sir to see you; he's a wit,  
A very wit, or as the moderns term it,  
A spark, a mere spark, such a one as I am,  
Since I left off those idle toys called books,  
He'll take Tobacco too, and with a grace  
Spit i'th' rubbed chamber, though his testy wife,  
Cry fie upon him: he's a very spark,  
and worthy your acquaintance.  Tris. 
Come forward sir, you stand as if you'd cozened  
One of them with bad linen; pray advance,  
My Master is your Leader.  Bus. 
Save you gentlemen.  Tho. 
You're very welcome Sir, my x speaks you  
A Citizen of rank.  Know. 
That you bear office  
Of honour in your parish.  Tho. 
That you're witty,  
Or as he says a spark.  Know. 
Nay, a good fellow.  Bus. 
'tis granted gentlemen,  
This is my Character, I am by trade  
A Linen Draper.  Tho. 
Would trust me  
For forty els of Holland?  Bus. 
Ha, how's that sir?  
I have more wit I thank you: cause you seem  
A Gentleman of quality, I care not  
To venture as much cambric as shall make  
Your Crush a gorget, but no farther, sir,  
There is no wit in't: how's that Mr. Holdfast?  Hold. 
You are a spark still Landlord.  Know. 
I'll swear in this he's witty.  Bus. 
'tis my humour,  
My wit has half and one me long ere this;  
But for my wit I'd be an Alderman,  
And twirled a ponderous chain upon the bench,  
With as much grace as can the formalst of them:  
I should have fined for Sheriff, but all Guild-Hall  
Hearing I was a wit, cried out upon him,  
'twill breed an alteration in the Senate,  
To have a wit amongst them. How's that sir?  Know. 
And so you missed preferment.  Tho. 
And continue  
Ith' state of wisdom still; an humble Constable?  Hold. 
Yes, and an honest one, I'll say that for him,  
He ne'er stopped wench in's watch.  Bus. 
How's that? I scorn it,  
I've stopped a hundred in my time: how's that sir?  
You relish wit I see.  Know. 
'tis so acute,  
No palate but most taste it; shall's to th' Tavern?  
You're for a cup I hope?  Bus. 
For now sir,  
It is my frequent use, when I have set  
My watch, to view the Tavern, drink a quart,  
And then back to my business, and there wit in't.  Tho. 
'tis granted sir: Come gentlemen, an hour  
Is our extent of time: good Mr. Constable  
It shall be yours. x I have some business  
Concerns your knowledge, as we pass along  
I shall inform you. Exeunt.  Enter Valentine, Grace, Clare, Maudlin. Val. 
You see I me come  
Upon your summons.  Clar. 
Sure you mistake,  
There's none here is so fond of you to court  
Your cheap and vulgar presence.  Val. 
Here's a Letter  
Speaks other language, you might cloth your discourse  
In the same phrase, or I shall laugh your folly  
Into a milder temper, and then leave you.  Clar. 
You're very confident.  Val. 
No, you're too coy,  
I me now i'th' humour to be tempted to  
Love any of you: take me while the fit  
Is on me, for i'm sure 'twill not endure  
Longer than does a wealthy widow's grief  
For a loathed husband. Speak, ha' you a mind to me?  
Speak quickly, or for ever more hereafter  
Be sure to hold your peace, and that's a task  
Far worse than death to any of your sex.  Clar. 
Her blushes does betray her, were't to me,  
He should find other usage. Sir my x,  
I know not how transported by her love,  
Above her reason, has enthralled her heart  
To your dispose. I hope sir you're so much  
A Gentleman, you will make civil use  
Of her affection; 'twill be worth your care sir.  
Besides the rich endearments of her youth,  
She's Mistress of a fortune that may challenge  
A noble retribution for her love.  
we'll not disturb your conference. Ex. Clar. Maud.  Grace. 
x, x, you will not leave me thus?  
I pray let me go sir.  Val. 
Thus far into my arms girl, that's the place  
Thou oughtst to rest in: you expect I warrant  
That I should court you now, and with an army  
Of oaths, stuffed with as many cynical falsehoods,  
Protest I love you: by this light I know not,  
'tis folly to dissemble, whether or no  
I can affect thee; yet thou seemst to wear  
That pretty harmless innocence in thy looks,  
It wins my credulous thoughts to believe  
Thou mayst be virtuous.  Grace. 
Sir, I hope my own  
Too forward zeal, in tendering you my love,  
Will not in your good thoughts beget an ill  
Opinion of my modesty.  Val. 
Never fear't:  
That freeness more engages my just faith  
To embrace thy affection. I have seen some Ladies,  
Coy as a votaress below their suitors,  
Yet with a tough-backed groom, have known them sin  
With most libidinous appetite in private;  
But I'm as fearless girl, that ought amiss  
Can stain thy soul, as thou wert confident  
In settling thy most constant choice upon  
A stranger; yet I must desire the reason  
Why you did love me: for my own good parts,  
Certain they're not so attractive as to conquer  
A beauty at first sight.  Grace. 
Since I have  
Disclosed my affection to you, (although love  
Oft times admits no reason) I'll endeavour  
To satisfy your question: the first cause  
Moved me to love you, was my father.  Val. 
Hang thy father  
In's own gold chain: but such another word,  
And never hope to have me; dost thou think  
I'll be beholding to an eight i'th' hundred,  
To such an empty cask as is thy father,  
(Who soon did get his wealth by the old proverb,  
Of fools have fortune) for a wife; but that  
I have some mercy in me to believe  
Thou mayst be virtuous; I would not match  
With any of my squeamish Ants of London,  
For all the wealth i'th' Chamber.  Grace. 
Sir, you asked,  
A question of me, and will not permit  
Me give a civil answer; as I said,  
My father—  Val. 
Father again, farewell, my ears do blister  
At the harsh sound: would thou hadst been a Bastard,  
So thou hadst no title to his blood:  
Another father, like a whirlwind, blows me  
Hence from thy sight for ever.  Gra. 
Pray hear me.  
Intends to match me to Sir Timothy  
Shallow-wit, a creature only fit for scorn;  
Which to prevent, and taken with the fullness  
Of your true worth, I rather choose to cast  
My reputation on your noble pity,  
Than stand the desperate hazard of my ruin.  Val. 
She loves me by this light, this is no trick.  
Now to my Thorowgood's project: thouart a good wench,  
A harmless wench, and I believe a sound one,  
And I will have thee; give me thy hand: yet stay,  
Ere I do cast myself away upon thee,  
You here shall promise Mistress, to become  
A most obedient wife, and not according  
To th' ancient trick inherent to the City,  
Rail till you be my Master.  Grace. 
Never fear me.  Val. 
Nor shall you, when you're at my house i'th' Country  
Be niggardly, or spoil a dinner for  
Want of the t'other ounce of Sugar, nor  
Repine to see me merry with my friends,  
Or curse my brothers, when they so journey with me.  
Nor starve my servants when I am from home.  
I must be drunk sometimes too, than you must not  
Whine and cry out, were I a maid again,  
I'd never marry any that does take  
This wicked Herb Tobacco. Those injunctions,  
And some few hundreds more of the same nature,  
Sealed and delivered to me by your promise,  
I may be won to wed thee, nay to bed thee,  
And get a race of such Heroic children,  
As shall entice posterity to conceive  
Some good came from Cheapside. Your lip shall seal this.  Grace. 
You see your strengths upon me.  Val. 
'tis my good girl:  
Thy father, armed with the trained bands o'th' City,  
Shall never pull thee from me: to confirm thee  
How much I love, I'll disclose a plot  
I had to gain thy affection.  Grace. 
'tis some good one,  
Pray let me hear it.  Val. 
You see my youth and feature will admit  
A woman's Character; if I were clothed  
But in the habit, should I not appear  
A bouncing Mary Ambree.  Grace. 
Some such creature; but to your project.  Val. 
I have prepared me  
A handsome female-shape, my man without  
Has them under his cloak; and I persuaded  
Sir Timothy, in hope that would court thee  
I his behalf, to have presented me  
Here for his Niece; you mark me.  Grace. 
Very well; but now  
This the design is useless.  Val. 
By no means;  
It must be put in action; come go in,  
And help to dress me: Sir Timothy expects  
To meet me in that shape here: and besides  
In that disguise, secure I can at any time  
Steal out with you, and marry you.  Gra. 
Your reason  
Shall govern my obedience.  Val. 
Come let's in then.  Enter Timothy, Covet, formal. Tim. 
'tis very right that sir, but yet methinks  
A wholesome song, sung to a fine new tune,  
Should not be much amiss: my boy here has one,  
And I'd be very loath, although I cannot  
Sing, as they say, myself, that she should hear  
What those, I can keep, can do; is not this right now?  Cov. 
Your pleasure shall prevail, though to say truth,  
Son Shallow-wit, for son I still shall call you,  
I never liked a Song, unless the Ballad  
Oth' famous London Prentice, or the building  
Of Britain's Burse: for Music, less the Virginals,  
I never cared for any. Does but cloy  
The ears, but never fills the purse son.  Tim. 
Very right indeed; 'tis too light  
For such a purpose.  Form. 
With your leave sir,  
Music is most delightful, and young Mistress  
Grace, and her x surely will receive it  
With thankful Equipage.  Tim. 
Honest Formal,  
thouart in the right still; come exalt thy voice  
My little Imp of gut and hair: My Mistress  
Shall know there's something in me.  
How do you Sings.  
Like it?  Form. 
'tis very odoriferous.  Cov. 
I shall begin  
To love it better than I have done; 'tis a good boy,  
A very pretty boy, and I'll reward thee.  
There's a threepence for thee.  Tim. 
Very right.  
Father you are too bountiful.  Cov. 
He shall take it,  
Indeed he shall; 'tis manners to receive  
Money from your betters boy: but here's my Niece.  Enter Clare. Tim. 
Very right, I had almost forgotten, pray where's mine?  Cov. 
Why, have you a Niece Sir Timothy?  Tim. 
Yes, yes, I've two or three, but one I sent  
Hither, to view my Mistress in a Coach  
An hour ago at least.  
Sure she is come.  Cov. 
Clare did you see the gentlewoman?  Clar. 
None such came hither yet Sir.  Tim. 
That's not right though,  
A pox upon her for her pains.  Enter Maudlin. Maud. 
Mrs. your x does desire some conference with you.  Cov. 
Maudlin,  
Did there a Gentlewoman arrive here lately,  
To see my daughter?  Maud. 
There is one within,  
In busy conference with her.  Tim. 
Very right that, he's pleading for me now.  
Fair Damsel that's my Niece; pray tell her, here's  
A Knight, a simple Uncle of hers, or so, desires her  
Company. But here she comes, my Mistress with her; Niece  
'tis well done, I'll give thee the t'other thousand to increase  
Thy portion for't: Mistress, and how, and how do you like my  
Niece, a plain Country girl, or so.  Cov. 
A very handsome woman, I could love her,  
Did I but know her portion. Mistress welcome.  
What's in that house is yours?  Grace. 
Sir Timothy,  
You have much graced me by the sweet acquaintance  
Of this good gentlewoman. Pray x know her;  
She's worthy your endearment.  Clare. 
I shall be proud  
To do you service.  Val. 
I most fortunate  
To be esteemed your creature.  Tim. 
Very right  
she's a poor niece of mine, yet she can speak you  
May perceive or see.  Enter Thorowgood, Holdfast, Tristram, Knowell. Cla. 
Life Thorowgood with young  
Holdfast, pray heaven my folly  
Has not undone me.  Thor. 
You'll please to pardon  
Our rude intention sir, we have some business.  Cov. 
Please you declare't.  Thor. 
This gentleman and myself,  
Come to inform you that this spark my x,  
Is son and heir to sir Geoffrey Holdfast,  
And since I hear you have disposed your daughter  
To that good knight, I in his father's name,  
Desire your niece should be his wife.  Cla. 
Pray Sir speak  
In your own cause he needs no advocate.  Cov. 
I've been abused,  
In this Sir Geoffrey's son the scholar?  Thor. 
The very same sir.  Hold. 
I am the spark sir.  Know. 
Valentine, i'th' name pulls off his periwig.  
Of madness: man why in this shape?  Thor. 
Valentine, Ha, ha, ha.  Tim. 
Very right, my niece is Valentine.  Thor. 
And how is't bully, hast not found these girls  
Of a hot appetite, how often ha?  Val. 
Has my Landlady  
Provided me a cullis, life my back  
Does needs a swathband.  Cov. 
What means this gentleman?  Thor. 
Nothing sir,  
But to inform you what strange things your niece,  
And daughter and, nay never blush he has  
Performed it better than your Uncle's foreman.  
I know he has.  Covet. 
Timothy this abuse must not be thus put up,  
Did not you say I was your Niece.  Tim. 
Very right, but it was Valentine.  Know. 
He has been here all night too  Grace. 
x we are basely betrayed.  Cla. 
Take courage.  Thor. 
Do you think sir, my x shall mix with such  
Stale ware that keep their gamesters in their chambers.  Know. 
Or this knight have Valentine's reversions?  Tim. 
Very right, I scorn it.  Thor. 
Keep them. they I serve to set up some twice  
Broken Merchant, or undone Linen-draper, come away  
Valentine, thou hast made a brave discovery. Farewell,  
My witty virgins, you are paid now. Exeunt.  Cov. 
I'll be revenged for this, and if it cost me  
Half my estate Formal send post, for sir Geoffrey,  
The whole town shall know of this abuse.  
I'll make you fast enough.  
Explicit Actus tertius.   

Actus Quartus, Scena prima.  Grace, Clare, busy, Luce. Busy. 
THey are both sparks, that's certain, if e'er  
I take them in my watch, I'll make them stoop  
Under my staff of office, Mistress Clare,  
Though I'm a Citizen, and by my charter,  
Am not allowed much wit, as being free  
Oath Linendrapers, and a man in office,  
Yet if my counsel, if you please to follow it,  
Do not revenge you on these saucy mad caps,  
May taking up of Holland at dear rates,  
Be quite abjured by courtiers: and I canvased  
Out of authority, how's that now?  Clare. 
Master Busy,  
You seem of sage discretion: and to say  
Truth, I conceive you have the stock of wit  
Belonging to the city in your custody,  
You are the chamber of London, where that treasure  
Is hoarded up, and I do hope you can  
Be true and secret.  Busy. 
How's that Lady?  
I were unworthy else to thrive by linen,  
Could I not keep smock secrets for your uncle,  
Your father mistress Grace, I care not for him,  
Although he be right worshipful and an Alderman,  
As I may say to you he has no more  
Wit than the rest o'th' bench: what lies in's thumb-ring,  
Yet I do love you dearly for the kindness  
Shown to my girl here, and because you have  
Some flashes in your brains: and since you have  
Opened the case to me, ere we proceed  
To sentence, tell me seriously do not you two  
Love Valentine, and Freewit?  Grace. 
For my own part,  
And I dare say as much too for my x,  
Their memories are as distant from our hearts,  
As civil honesty from theirs.  Clare. 
And though  
I well could like that Freewit for a husband,  
Yet in mere spite because he shall not have me,  
I'll wed the next man's offered me.  Busy. 
How's that?  
I would my wife were dead; two comely lasses,  
Such as sometimes I light on in my watch,  
would make fit wives for such rude sparks, and 'tshall  
Go hard but I will for your sakes sweet beauties,  
Number a brace of such sound curtel to them,  
If you'll give way to it.  Cla. 
And crown thee for  
The king of witty Constables use our names,  
Or any thing to draw them forward, that  
we may in triumph laugh at their disgrace,  
And we'll procure a patent, to continue  
Thy office to thee, during life: and after  
To hire some ingenious poet that shall keep  
Thy fame alive in a brave Epitaph  
Graved on thy marble.  Enter Covet, Sir Geoffrey Holdfast, Sir Timothy, young Holdfast. Geff 
What varlet should that be?  Cov. 
Truth I know not,  
Nor can conjecture, yet I do believing  
Him to be truly yours, because attired  
Ith' habit and the phrase of a right Scholar,  
And for your son, pardon me master Holdfast,  
I took you for some lewd audacious varlet,  
That had usurped that title.  Hold. 
I imagine  
It was some bastard of my fathers, gotten  
In youth upon his tailor's wife or Laundress,  
He has good store of them, but master Alderman  
You now conceive I me son and heir apparent  
Unto the Holdfasts, whosoever got me,  
That's not much matter.  Bus. 
How's that, anon before I set my watch,  
I'll visit you again: meantime, pray give my  
Daughter Luce leave to come home, her sister  
Poor wretched, is troubled with a pain i'th'  
Bottom o'th' body, pricks even to her very heart,  
And I would have Luce go toth' Pothecaries,  
And get some bezar stone, they say 'twill cure her.  
Farewell good Ladies, you'll be sure to come Luce. Ex. busy.  Geff. 
Are these the maidens, I promise you master  
Alderman they're virgins of good feature, and I shall  
Be well apaid if my son match to either,  
Which lik'st thou best boy?  Hold. 
Both of them good father,  
Be not so troublesome, but let me take  
A view of them: Sir Timothy which do you  
Like best of these two Ladies?  Tim. 
Which do you  
Like best good Mr. Holdfast.  Hold. 
Yours shall be  
The choice noble Sir Timothy.  Tim. 
Yours indeed,  
Magnanimous Mr. Holdfast.  Hold. 
On my gentility yours.  Tim. 
Yours on my knighthood.  Cov. 
Good sir Timothy,  
No striving, they are free for you, and for  
The stain those idle gallants put upon them,  
'twas on my credit gentlemen to keep  
All other suitors off, in hope by that means  
To obtain them for themselves.  Tim. 
'tis very likely  
That Valentine's a wag.  Cov. 
Daughter and niece,  
This hopeful gentleman, and this good knight are  
By my care provided for your husbands, pray use  
Them as befits their worth, and take it  
As a fatherly admonition; either resolve  
To marry these or none.  Cla. 
'tis a hard choice sir,  
Yet rather than our maidenheads shall starve,  
we'll feed on this course fare, young wench's uncle,  
Are like young hungry Hawks: they'll stoop at  
Jackdaws, when they can meet with no better prey,  
Draw nearer thou doughty knight, and thou good  
Squire o'th' damsels, Uncle these youths are bashful in the  
Presence of you two their grave Elders: your grim beards,  
And azure notes able are to fright  
Their precise love to silence.  Tim. 
she's i'th' right,  
I'm such a fearful fool I cannot speak,  
If anybody look on me.  Geff. 
Let's withdraw,  
Now ply thy business boy.  Clare. 
So now the game Exe. Sir Geoffrey and Covet.  
Will begin presently: I pray you tell me  
Which of you is the valiant Rosicleer,  
Dares break his Lance on me.  Tim. 
Marry that would I  
If I durst be so bold, mine is a stiff one,  
And will prick sorely.  Clare. 
A fool's babble is't not?  
But come in brief toth' purpose: is it you  
Sir knight of the ill favoured face,  
That would have me for your Dulcina?  Tim. 
Very right,  
You know my mind as well it seems as if  
You're in my belly.  Grace. 
So then you are sped:  
This gentleman's my comely spouse that must be,  
'twere fitting x Clare er't be a bargain,  
They know on what conditions they do cast  
Themselves away upon us.  Hold. 
'twas discreetly  
Thought on, I would do nothing rashly.  Clare. 
Mark then  
You men that will transform yourselves to  
Monsters, wretches that will become so miserable,  
You'll hang yourselves: & think it a fair rid dance,  
Mark what you'll come to, if you be so mad,  
So desperate mad to wed us, you must first,  
Resolve like patient gulls to have your noses  
twinged if ours chance to itch: your ears like asses  
When they grow lazy cropped, lest they o'erhear  
Our chamber secrets, for our recreation,  
And lest with too much ease we should grow resty,  
we'll beat you daily: while you like tame Spaniels,  
Shall fawn and lick our shoestrings.  Grace. 
Nor expect,  
To get a good word from us in a twelvemonth,  
Hourly revilings and perpetual noises  
Shall be as favours taken that we would  
Vouchsafe to spend in such regardless trifles,  
we'll be as proud as ere our mothers were,  
When she was Lady majoress, and you humble,  
As her trim henchboys: whatsoever servants  
You kept before, although they were your grandsires,  
You shall turn off and limmit your attendants,  
As 'tis the city fashion to a woman  
Butler, that shall not dare without our licence,  
To let you have a penny pot of sack  
To give a frugal entertainment, to  
Your visiting friends.  Clare. 
If you have a brother,  
Kinsman, or friend, that does in pity grieve at  
The tyranny you live in, him it shall be felony  
To converse with, we in tissue and plush will  
Brave it while you walk in fustian, we'll  
When we please have our fair coach and horses  
To carry us up to London to ask counsel of  
Our mothers and our gossips how to abuse you.  
You shall be still obedient, we commanding,  
And if a Lord or courtly gentleman,  
Whom we style servant, out of love sometimes  
Gives us a visit, you shall not repine:  
If we forsake your bed to go to his.  Gra. 
And if you chance, as fools will oft be  
Peeping to spy us coupling, with respective silence,  
You shall depart, not daring to bedew  
Your eyes with tears for grief that you are cuckolds,  
Nor to exalt your honours above your neighbours,  
But big with joy triumph that you have wives  
That are in so much credit, as to have  
Persons of quality, take the pains to get your  
Heirs to your large revenues.  Tim. 
Very right,  
'tis not the fashion now adays for knights  
To get their own sons, 'tis sufficient for us  
If we can leave them lands, no matter who  
Was their true fathers.  Cla. 
Say sir Timothy  
If upon these conditions you can like  
The match is perfect: but faith take my counsel,  
Make not yourselves mere rascals: the reproach  
To boys and scholars, subjects fit for ballads,  
Not worthy M Ps name to them, good Sir Timothy  
Have pity on yourself, and marry rather  
In your own tribe, some damsel that can churn,  
Make Cheese and Apple pies with Currants in them,  
And Mr. Holdfast 'twere far better for you to  
Match with some grave doctor's imp at Cambridge  
Or else as 'twas your use when you're a student,  
Lie with your bed maker.  Tim. 
Very right,  
Yet I do know all this is but in jest,  
To make us love you better.  Hold. 
True sir Timothy;  
Speak as it were to let us understand  
By an Irony as we the learned call it,  
How well they mean to use us: therefore in  
My judgement it were requisite with all speed,  
While there in this good humour  
To strike the match up.  Tim. 
Very right, we are  
No Jackdaws to be fright with these Scarecrows,  
Mistress your hand, and if you'll have me so,  
If not so likewise: but you will repent it,  
You'll scarcely meet two that will offer fairer  
Than we have done.  Cla. 
But do you mean performance,  
Truly of these conditions.  Hold. 
As sincerely  
As ere we mean to eat.  Tim. 
Or drink good Ale  
At mother Huffs a mornings.  Grace. 
You'll confess this  
Before the Priest and witnesses.  Hold. 
Before  
The Congregation, or at a Commencement  
Before the University.  Clar. 
That you'll be  
Honest contented Cuckolds, bear your heads  
As peaceably, and with as much obedience,  
As the tamest beast i'th' City.  Tim. 
On my Knighthood.  Hold. 
On my gentility.  Clar. 
Why then strike hands on't;  
Since you will needs undo yourselves, 'twere folly  
To endeavour to redeem you: but this night  
We will be married, and in private,  
Not yours nor our friends being acquainted with it.  
we'll meet you anywhere, procure the licence,  
And we'll be ready; so farewell: tonight,  
Or not at all let's hear from you.  Exeunt Clara, Grace. Hold. 
And feel us too ere morning, 'tshall go hard else.  
Sir Timothy, was not this wisely carried:  
To let them have their sayings? but we will not  
Be such stark fools to do what we have promised;  
When they're ours once, we may rule them easily  
At our own pleasures.  Tim. 
Very right; and use them  
At our own pleasures: But see here's your Mr.  
And Mr. Constable your Landlord.  Enter Grimes, busy. Hold. 
Landlord, welcome  
On my Gentility, to my house that must be.  
Thou thoughtst, because I did wear Lockram shirts  
I'd no wit: but hark thee, I have got  
The wench of Gold: Sir Timothy, and I  
Have struck the stroke old boy: to night's the night,  
Thou shalt know more of it ere twelve of Clock,  
And then believe me: Grimes go you to th'office;  
There's money, fetch a Licence.  Tim. 
There's more money,  
Bring me a Licence too; sure as we wooed  
we'll wed together,  Busy. 
How's this? Gentlemen  
I shall have gloves I hope.  Hold. 
And favours too,  
Thy daughter Nell shall have my Bride garters,  
And thy foreman my points: But honest Landlord,  
I know th' art excellent at a device,  
This matter must be private, not my father,  
Nor Mr. Alderman must be acquainted,  
Till all is finished: Could thy wit but help us  
To plot this finely: Clare and Grace will meet us,  
At any place where we'll appoint.  Bus. 
How's that?  
I'll set you presently i'th' way; my house  
Shall be your rendezvous: soon after ten.  
The hour of meeting: there I'll have prepared  
For the two Ladies a Sedan: that shall  
Carry them thence unseen through the watch  
At Ludgate, where I exercise my office,  
Into white-Friers, there shall a little Levite  
Meet you, and give you to the lawful bed.  
With much celerity: give me your money, & I'll take out the licence.  
How's that now?  Tim. 
Very right.  Bus. 
Mean time my daughter Luce shall give them notice  
How all's contrived, they'll be willing,  
When they shall know the manage's committed  
To my discretion; but about your business;  
It will grow late o'th' sudden.  Hold. 
Come Sir Timothy. Ex. Hold. Tim. Grimes.  Bus. 
So, so, as I would have it: if I do not  
Do something to exalt the fame of Constables,  
May I be hanged upon my staff of Office.  
Ha! Valentine and Freewit with my daughter?  
They must not see me. Exit.  Enter Valentine, Freewit, Luce. Luce. 
'tis certain Mr. Freewit they are contracted,  
And this night to be married: I am sorry  
You should be thus supplanted, by two such  
Dull witless idiots: but they are so bent on't,  
That when I speak in your behalfs, my Mistress Ent. Clar. Grace.  
Stopped my mouth with a blow o'th' lips: see here  
They are themselves; if you do any good,  
It must be now or never. Ex. Luce.  Clar. Grace. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Free. 
What do the Monkeys laugh at?  Clar. 
To behold  
Two such trim gallants as yourselves, like Asses,  
Shaking your empty Noddles o'er the Oats  
You fain would eat, but must not lick your lips at.  
You thought to have won us by your wit, where lies it?  
In your gay clothes; perhaps so, if you can  
Outswear the faithful Tailor, that's unpaid yet.  
Or cheat your Sempstress. Troth make safe retreat  
Into the Suburbs, there you may find cast wenches,  
Who will in pity have you: and for dowry,  
Bring you an ampler stock of hot diseases,  
Than you are already furnished with. We Orphans  
Oth' City have more charity to ourselves,  
Than to wed Surgeon's boxes.  Grace. 
When our portions  
Shall be consumed in Apothecary's Bills,  
Or giving Doctors fees; or at best use,  
Serve but to purchase Sack; or be as tribute  
Paid toth' three Kings; or piously bestowed  
Upon jerusalem.  Free. 
No, you'd best reserve them,  
Till these you wed be begged for fools; and then  
They will be seized to better use. You think now  
You have broke our gulls with anger that you have  
Resolved on other husbands: who would have you?  
But two such idiots, fit to be the styles  
To the vast pride and lust lurks in your blood,  
Derivative from the City: for ourselves,  
Why should you have a thought we could descend  
So much from gentry's honour, to mix with you?  
'tis true, you appear handsome, but you paint  
Worse than a Bawd, or waiting-woman, in love  
With the spruce Chaplain.  Val. 
For your hair let's see  
Your eyebrows badge: oh 'tis not your own;  
Be modest and confess it: 'tis a Peruke,  
I saw it at the Frenchman's in the Strand,  
The other day: and though you hold your head up,  
It is supposed it grows too near your shoulders,  
And you wear iron bodies, to keep down  
And rectify the crooked paths that are  
In this same hill your body.  Free. 
Nay, besides  
You're infinitely lascivious, 'tis reported  
Y'ave killed the reverend Alderman at least,  
Ten Prentices, besides four journeymen.  
With too much labour: That you will be drunk  
ourselves can testify: and with these imperfections  
This inexhausted magazine of vices,  
Could you imagine we would have you? no.  
Heaven give you joy, with your well-chosen spouses:  
May they be patient Cuckolds, that's all the harm  
we'll wish them: the more fools, more fit for husbands  
To such hot wild cats.  Clare. 
Well Mr. Freewit,  
I thought however we, in mirth, or madness,  
Could have transgressed civility, that you  
Would not have made such a severe construction  
Of our intentions: how i've loved you, heavens  
Can bear me righteous witness; but man's faith weeps.  
Is fickle as his shadow, never seen,  
But when the Sun shines.  Grace. 
And that you, whom I  
Even at the first view loved, and fixed my heart on:  
Should not alone contemn me, but with these  
Abuses wound my fame, torments my soul  
Beyond the strength of patience, heaven forgive you.  Free. 
They are our own, dear Valentine: our own as surely,  
As if the officious Priest had put the Ring  
Upon their pretty fingers; why you need not  
Take words with such unkindness Clare yourselves  
Being the occasion.  Clar. 
Such discourtesies  
From friends; nay, such beloved friends as you were,  
Wounds deeply Mr. Freewit.  Free. 
Prithee Clara  
No more remonstrances of this unkindness,  
Dry thy fair eyes, or I shall else grow childish,  
And weep for company: poor heart i'm sorry  
thouart thus distempered; prithee sweet forgive me;  
We will be friends, and instantly steal hence,  
And end all difference in a happy marriage.  Clar. 
Ha, ha, ha: hold the man's head, heel swoon  
I fear o'th' sudden: marry you; go boast  
How you've abused us, and do not forget  
This part o'th' story, 'twill much grace the action,  
That you were fooled again into belief  
That we could love you: ha, ha, ha. Ex. Clare, Grace.  Val. 
We have made ourselves fine fools, a pox upon them:  
I knew their tears could not be serious:  
They only fell from their left eye, as wealthy  
Young widows weep for their old husbands, Freewit  
They're lost, past all recovery.  Free. 
Who can help it;  
There are more wives i'th' Kingdom; yet I'm vexed  
That two such gulls should carry them: let's go seek  
Sir Timothy and my cousin Holdfast out,  
And geld them, then proclaim them to be Eunuchs.  
That course may spoil their marriage. Enter busy.  Bus. 
I have o'erheard them all, and it conduces.  
Much to my purpose: now, or never Busy  
Show thyself a true spark, that Constables  
Hereafter may be thought to have some wit,  
More than is in their staff. Good day to you gallants,  
I have some business with you.  Val. 
Your name is Busy?  Bus. 
The same body,  
Your friend, although a Constable; there were two Ladies  
Went lately from you.  Free. 
What of that?  Bus. 
They told me, as I am of their council, that they loved you.  
And though some words of course had passed between you,  
As oft does among friends: you know the Proverb put lately  
In a Ballad, where I learned it, that amantiumirae amoris redintegratio est: yet that was but in jest, and in all haste,  
Wished me to assure you, that if you would speedily  
Take out the Licences this very night, twixt nine and ten, at my  
House they would meet you, and join with you in Matrimony.  Free. 
Is this truth?  Bus. 
How's that? upon the faith sir of a man in office,  
You may believe me: for a Priest, leave that  
To my care gentlemen, I'll have one ready  
Privately in White-Friers, the house anon  
I will inform you, and what way to take  
To miss pursuit, if any should endeavour  
Your apprehension.  Val. 
How may we deserve this kindness from you?  Bus. 
When 'tis done, then thank me; mean time make haste, and get the licences. Ex. Free. Val.  
I will pursue the rest, and if I fit not somebody,  Ent. Luce. 
Let me be held as other of my fellows are, Asses in office.  
Luce thou art come as aptly as I could wish: be sure at nine of  
Clock to be at home, and if you can bring with you two of the gentlewomen's gowns, question not why?  
But on my blessing do it; if this hit,  
Time shall report some Constables have wit. Ex.  
Explicit Actus Quartus.   

Actus Quintus, Scena prima.  The Watch. 1 Watch. 
IT is a cold night neighbour,  
And 'tis likely we shall have frost,  
That will make Sea-coals dear: heaven help poor people.  
Is no news stirring neighbour?  Men. 2 Wat. 
Yes, today  
I heard such news, heaven bless us, as would make  
A man's heart quake in's belly; strange, and true,  
It came up in a carrot Boat from Sandwich  
Last tide; an Oyster wife, a good old Woman,  
Heard it at Billingsgate, and told my wife on it,  3 Watch. 
What is it? pray let's hear it.  Men. 2 Wat. 
Marry, that twixt Deal  
And Dover, one fishing for Flounders, drew  
A Spaniards body up, slain i'th' late sea-fight,  
And searching him for money, found i'th' sets  
Of his great Rust the— I shall think on't presently,  
'tis a hard word— the Inquisition.  1 Wat. 
O monstrous, what's that?  
I have not heard of such a Beast before.  Men. 3 Wat. 
You've heard nothing then:  
It is a Monster very like the Mandrake  
Was shown at Temple Bar.  2 Wat. 
You have heard nothing neither:  
The Monster's no such Monster: neighbour Mandivell  
You are a zealous brother, a Translator,  
'tis such a Monster as will swallow thee,  
And all the Brethren at Amsterdam,  
And in new England at a morsel: verilies,  
Your yeas, and nays will not appease its stomach,  
'twill sup them up as easily as a Tailor  
Would do six hot loaves in a morning fasting,  
And yet dine after.  Enter busy and Parson. Bus. 
There is the Licence sir for Mr. Holdfast,  
And wise Sir Timothy; you have instructions  
How things ought to be carried: when I have  
Disposed my Watch, I will be there myself;  
Mean time good Sir be careful.  Pars. 
Doubt me not,  
Good Mr. Constable; 'tis not the first time  
I have espoused couples of as much worship,  
Behind the Brickhills: when 'tis done, 'tis done,  
And surely consummate.  Ex. Parson. Bus. 
Well said neighbours,  
You're chatting wisely o'er your Bills and lanterns,  
As becomes Watchmen of discretion: pray you  
Let's have no wit amongst you; no discourse  
O'the Commonwealth; I need not neighbours give you  
Your charge tonight: only for fashion sake.  
Draw near and be attentive.  3 Men. 
I have edified  
More by your charge I promise you, than by  
Many a morning's exercise.  Bus. 
First, then,  
You shall be sure to keep the peace; that is,  
If any quarrel, be i'th' streets, sit still, and keep  
Your rusty Bills from bloodshed; and as't began  
So let it end: only your zeals may wish  
The Devil part them.  1 Wat. 
Forward Mr. Constable.  Bus. 
Next, if a thief chance to pass through your watch,  
Let him depart in peace; for should you stay him,  
To purchase his redemption he'll impart  
Some of his stolen goods, and you're apt to take them,  
Which makes you accessary to his theft,  
And so fit food for Tyburn.  Men. 
Good advice,  
I promise you, if we have grace to follow it.  Bus. 
Next if a drunkard of a man disguised,  
Desire to pass the gate, by all means open't,  
You'll run yourselves into th' praemunire,  
For your authority stretches but to men,  
And they are beasts by statute.  1 Wat. 
Such as we are,  
Horned beasts he means.  Bus. 
How's that; you carry lanterns,  
Thou hast wit, and I'll reward't, there's four tokens  
To buy the cheese: next for the female creatures,  
Which the severer officers i'th' suburbs  
Term girls, or wenches, let them pass without  
Examining where they been: or taking from them  
A single token: lass good souls, they get  
Their money hard, with labours of their bodies,  
And to exact on those were even extortion  
Beyond a broker's.  Men. 
Yet they do't  
Without the City, I have heard a brewer,  
Being one year in office, got as much from those  
Good souls as bought him a new mash-fat,  
And mended all his coolers.  Bus. 
How's that? we are bidden  
Not to take ill examples, for yourselves you have  
Free leave for th' good o'th' common wealth to  
Sleep after eleven: mean time you may play at  
Tray trip, or cockall for black puddings,  
So now your charge is finished.  Enter Sir Timothy, Grimes, Holdfast, with a Sedan. 1 Wat. 
Stand, who goes there?  Men. 
Come before Mr. Constable.  Hold. 
'tis I Landlord,  
There's sixteen pence to buy thy watch some Ale.  
Prithee tie up their tongues.  Tim. 
And there's four groats  
To purchase toasts to it.  Bus. 
How's that, pray stay my masters,  
You're sober men and fit to be examined:  
Whither goes all this carriage? close,  
These are the cunningest wooden bawdy houses,  
Were ere invented, and these blue coat men mules,  
The most authentic pimps: set down and open  
Your chair of sin you varlets  Hold. 
Why good Landlord,  
You will spoil all, do you not know your tenant,  
Not jeremy Holdfast?  Bus. 
How's that? not my father  
Upon a watch, I'll lay my life they've stolen  
Some city orphan, they're so loath to have  
Their load discovered.  Hold. 
There's ten shillings Landlord  
To buy thee sack: although it be thy office,  
And thou art sworn to't, for a friend 'tis lawful  
To break an oath: I will forswear myself  
A hundred times to do thee good.  Exeunt Holdfast, Timothy, Grimes, and Sedan Bus. 
I am  
Appeased, march on: look you remember my  
Instructions: so this money was well gotten,  
And 'tshall as merrily be spent, you need no  
More, club your half pence sparks to purchase Ale,  
You've an exchequer: ha! another chariot, Int.  
This same should be some Lady from a labour,  
Her waiters smell of groaning cheese: goodnight  
Gentlemen, pay the Porter, what is't twelve pence?  
Share it amongst you.  Men. 
Mr. Constable  
'tis very late, a fire and a brown tossed now,  
With some of mother Trundles Ale, I promise you  
Would comfort much the innards.  Bus. 
How's that hang it,  
It is heretical: Sack's the orthodoxal  
liquour: and now I think on't, you two, and Mendwell  
Shall with me to th' Saint John's head: there is  
A cup of pure Canary, and we have it,  
'twill break your heads, your own bills,  
And wear your lanterns in your noses bullies:  
My masters, you that stay behind observe  
My charge with strictness, and if any business  
Be of importance, call me.  Exit cum ceteris. 1 Wat. 
Now my masters,  
Shall I expound a motion to you, shall we  
Share, and share like this money?  4 Wat. 
With all our hearts. Omnes.  1 Wat. 
Let's see what comes it to a piece: there's eleven groats,  
And we are five of us, that is— that is, let me see seven pence a piece.  
No, no, I lie, 'tis eight pence, and six pence over.  4 Wat. 
Right, right, this it is to be book-learned,  
He's a good Arithmetician: but stay neighbours,  
Here comes more company: come before the Constable.  Enter Covet, Sir Geoffrey, formal with a Link. Cov. 
This is the government the city keeps,  
How do you lik't Sir Geoffrey?  Geff. 
Very well,  
I do not think all Christendom affords  
The like for formal discipline.  1 Wat. 
Leave your prating,  
And come before the Constable, though he be not  
Here himself, there's those that can examine you?  Cov. 
You do well masters to keep diligent watch,  
There's many varlets at these hours commit  
Disorders in the City: Where's the constable?  1 Wat. 
Good master Alderman, I cry your worship mercy,  
Because your worship wanted your worshipful horse.  
We did not know you: Mr. Constable  
And please your worship is but at next door  
Drinking a pint of sack  Cov. 
How at a Tavern?  1 Wat. 
At the Saint John's head,  
And please your worship, where if your worship please,  
You may have excellent sack, and please your worship.  Cov. 
This is the foul'st enormity I ever  
Heard on i'th' city, that a Constable,  
Who ought to see good orders kept, should be  
At these unlawful hours, breeding disorder,  
And in an open Tavern. Good Sir Geoffrey  
Bear me but company, I'll make the knave  
A fair example to all men in office, how they  
Come ne'er a bush: watchmen look well  
To the charge committed to you: for your Constable,  
I'll make him kiss the counter, light on Formal.  Exit Covet, cum caeteris. 1 Wat. 
A shrewd man this, if ere he live to be  
Lord Majors, ha mercy upon us; neighbours surely  
'tis very late, and I was up till twelve  
Last night a mending my wife's bodies, shall we  
Each to his bulk and take a nod?  Omnes. 
Agreed, agreed. Exit. Watch.  busy, Mendwell, watchmen sit in a Tavern. Bus. 
Set down your trusty Bills my sparks, and let us  
Watch o'er a cup of Sack, here 'tis will make you  
Each one an Alderman: a bigger glass boy,  
I do not love these thimbles, they are fit  
For none but precise Tailors, that do sip,  
In zeal, and swear cuds nigs over their wine,  
To cheat their customers: so this is something.  
A score or two of these my sparks, will set  
Our brains a float, and then we'll talk as wisely,  
As all the common Counsel, how's that now?  Men. 
Mr. Constable  
You're in the right I promise you: I feel  
myself already growing from a watchman  
Into a headborough.  Bus. 
How's that? thou shalt be  
A Constable within this half hour Mendwell,  
Carry thy staff with the red Cross and Dagger  
In as much state, as the best gold smith,  
That ere bore office in Cheapside; here's to thee,  
Hang care and Cozenage; let mercers use it  
In the dark shops: I am a Linen Draper,  
Love wit and Sack, and am resolved to thrive by't,  
When they shall break like bottles: Here let's canvas  
This quart, and then will bombast off another,  
And drink a health to Holland, and the mad boys  
That trail the puissant Pike there: how's that; do you peep?  Enter Fiddlers Boy. Boy. 
Please you hear a good song Gentlemen?  Bus. 
These squeakers, do claim more  
Privilege in a Tavern,  
Than a man in office; into every room  
They thrust their frizzled heads; and I'd been at it  
With some distressed Damsel, that I had taken  
Late in my watch, thus I'd been served: I'll have  
An Edict made against them at Guild-Hall,  
Next sitting certainly.  Boy. 
A very new song and please your worship's gentlemen.  Bus. 
There you lie boy;  
I doubt it is some lamentable stuff,  
Oth' Swine-faced gentlewoman, and that you'll grunt out  
Worse than a parish Boar when he makes love  
Unto the vicar's sow; her story's stale boy,  
'T has been already in two plays.  Boy. 
An't please your worships,  
My song is of a Constable.  Bus. 
How's that? a Constable,  
'tis not myself; I hope i'm not exalted  
Into a ballad: Dare you sirrah abuse  
Officers in your Madrigals; you deserve,  
And so does he that made it, to be whipped for't.  Boy. 
Pray hear it sir: 'tis no such matter on my credit.  Bus. 
How's that? Well, on thy credit I will hear it.  
Call in your company; welcome my Masters:  Ent. Musicians. 
Here: wet your weasands first, than thunder forth  
Some lofty Sonnets in the praise of Constables;  
And never fear the whipping-post hereafter.  

Constables 2 Song.  

SIng and rejoice, the day is gone.  
And the wholesome night appears.  
In which the Constable on Throne  
Of trusty bench, does with his Peers  
The comely watch; men sound of health,  
Sleep for the good o'th' Commonwealth.   

'tis his office to do so,  
Being bound to keep the peace.  
And in quiet sleep all know  
Mortal jars, and lewd brawls cease:  
A Constable may then for's health,  
Sleep for the good o'th' Commonwealth.   

Unless with Nobler thoughts inspired,  
To the Tavern here sort,  
Where with Sack his Senses fired,  
He reigns as fairy King in Court;  
Drinking many a lusty health,  
Then sleeps for th' good o'th' Commonwealth.   

With a comely girl, whom late  
He had taken in his watch,  
Oft he steals out of the gate  
Her at the old sport to watch,  
Though it may impair his health,  
He sleeps with her for th' good o'th' Commonwealth.   

Who then can Constables deny  
To be persons brave and witty,  
Since they only are the eye,  
The Glory, the delight o th' City,  
That with staff, and lantern light  
Are like black Pluto Princes of the night.    Mus. 
An excellent Ditty I promise you.  Busy. 
Well done boy.  
There's twelve pence for you Knaves, and tell the Poet  
That made it, if he'll come to me, I'll give him  
A quart of Sack to whet his Muse. Ent. Drawer.  Draw. 
Sir, below there's one inquires for you, and I suppose him  
To be at least an Alderman.  Bus. 
And if he be  
The Major and his horse, let them come up.  
Flinch Squeakers into another room: Good Mr. Alderman  
'tis strange you are abroad so late, will't please you Ent. Cov. Sir Geff. formal.  
To taste a cup a Sack, 'twill warm your stomach  
After your walking.  Cov. 
No Sirrah, I'll not be  
Partaker of your riot: this the watch  
You keep good Mr. Constable? introth  
The City's much beholding to your care,  
And they shall understand it, in a Tavern  
A fit place for an Officer: but I'll send you  
To one fitter for you to the Counter.  
Lay hands I charge you, bear him hence,  
I'll have you all laid fast else.  Bus. 
How's that? I hope you'll let us  
Drink off our sack first: 'twere far better sir,  
In my poor judgement, that you sat down in peace,  
As does befit your gravity, and drink  
A friendly cup or two: then for the first  
Offence to send your neighbour to the Counter:  
Pray sir be not so fierce; a glass, or two  
Will mollify your hard heart.  Cov. 
Will you not stir knaves?  
Where is the Master of the house? I'll make  
This Busy an example.  Bus. 
Pray do not sir:  
Perhaps you're bashful sir, and will not drink,  
Cause you want coin to pay: I'll lend you some;  
Or if you scorn to borrow, you may dip  
Your chain; a good pawn never shames the master.  
Pray sit down sir; we just now had Music,  
I'll call them in again.  Cov. 
Within, the master of the house, I'll have  
These knaves indicted for this bold contempt,  
And whipped about the City.  Bus. 
You may see sir,  
My Watchmen know their duty, they'll obey  
None but the Constable, and I'll experience,  
If they'll know me for one: My masters, take  
This Alderman and his company I charge you,  
And carry them straight to th' Counter, I'll secure you  
'Gainst all the harm that follows.  Seize on the Alderman and Sir Geoffrey. Men. 
Come, come, come along sir.  Cov. 
Dare you do this sirrah?  Bus. 
Yes, and answer't too sir.  
Y'ave met a Constable that has the wit,  
To know the power of's office: neighbour Mendwel,  
Because they'll take him for a Rat i'th' Counter,  
And I'd be loath to have his reverend board  
Be twitched off for his Garnish, to my house  
Convey him, and that comely Knight, and bid  
My maid show them a Chamber; I'll deal kindlier  
With you, than you'd have done with me: there watch them  
Till I come home: how's that now?  Cov. 
Sirrah, sirrah, I'll make you smoke for this.  Mend. 
Come, we lose time sir.  Bus. 
Let him have  
A good fire pray you. So, all works as't had been  
Moulded afore in wax: boy there's your reckoning.  
Now to my sparks, I've done that will be talked on i'th' City,  
And registered, a Constable was witty.  Freewit, Thorowgood, Valentine, Luce, Clare. Clar. 
You think you have us sure now. This same Busy  
Is a mere cheating Rascal.  Thor. 
Come, your rage  
Is useless now: he has done better for you,  
Than I by th' circumstance perceive you had  
Intended for yourselves: what would you've done  
With two such Marchpane husbands? I believe,  
For all you set a good face on the matter,  
'twas your own plot.  Clar. 
Ours? then may we die Virgins,  
And these same trusty youths, now called our husbands,  
Be suddenly transformed to Eunuchs; we  
Had thought young Holdfast, and Sir Timothy  
Had been the Squires had ushered us, and them  
We had resolved to couple with.  Free. 
Sweet Clare  
No more of this; for all your quaint dissembling.  
I know you love us, better than to part  
For a slight quarrel; now we're man and wife,  
And we will love you, if you'll be obedient,  
And get such Boys upon you, as shall people  
Cheap side with wit five generations after us.  Val. 
Fear not thy father's frowns: sweet Grace I have  
An Alderman's heir a jointure.  Enter busy. Bus. 
Bless you my hearts of gold, and give you joy.  
Frown not good Mistress Clare, I knew your mind  
And so fulfilled it.  Free. 
Constable, I'll have  
Thy Annals writ, in a far larger volume,  
Than Speed or Hollingshed.  Clar. 
Well Mr. Busy,  
Y'ave served us sweetly.  Bus. 
How's that? I hope your husbands  
Anon will serve you sweetlier: faith I thought  
There was no wit in't, that you two should cast  
yourselves away on two such gulls, your portions.  
Deserved more noble husbands: therefore finely  
After you were gone down, to take your Chariot,  
Instead of them, when i'th' meanwhile my daughters  
Held in discourse, I sent these, now your husband's:  
To exercise their office: Now you are married.  
I shall have Gloves I hope?  Clar. 
Yes, and such favours  
As thou shalt wear in triumph: but what have you  
Done with our other sweethearts?  Bus. 
How's that? matched them  
To two will hold them play: Come will you travail  
Your father Mistress Grace is at my house,  
Thither you shall, and if he will be angry,  
Let him be pleased again: Advance my sparks,  
I'll be your valiant Leader. Exeunt.  Sir Geoffrey, Covet, formal, Watchmen. Geff. 
Storm not so Mr. Alderman, the man  
Has done no more believe't, than what his office  
Will bear him out in.  Cov. 
I'll spend a thousand  
Pound, but I'll be revenged: a saucy rascal  
In my own Ward to serve me thus?  Enter Timothy, Holdfast, Grimes, Luce, Nell. Hold. 
Nay, come forward Ladies,  
Although your father sweetheart, be in our search,  
Be not abashed, come forward, though you kept  
Your tongues in peace, ere since our going forth,  
And ne'er spoke word, unless before the Parson  
When we committed Matrimony, yet now  
Pull off your Masks and veils, and show your faces,  
Be not ashamed of them.  Cov. 
Who's here? Sir Timothy and your son, I'll lay  
My life on't they have struck a marriage up  
Without our knowledge.  Geff. 
Very likely jeremy.  Hold. 
No more words sir, 'tis done, I and sir Timothy  
we hit the white: Good father Covet be not  
angry mood now I have wed your daughter,  
And he your Niece, we'll use them kindly: pray you  
Bid give us joy; your daughter is so fearful,  
She dares not ask you blessing.  Cov. 
This qualifies all anger, I forgive them.  Luce. 
Forgive us sir? you do not hear us ask it,  
Not need we your remission.  Cov. 
Ha! who are these! Sir Geoffrey we are cheated  
Abominably, cheated by this Constable,  
This rascal Busy, these are his daughters.  Luce. 
Nor are we ashamed  
To own him for our father, that has provided  
Us two such wealthy husbands.  Hold. 
Nell, I did not think you would have served me thus  
Unkindly, gentle Nell.  Nel. 
Unkindly sir, in what? to make you master  
Of all I have. I'll use you kindly trust me;  
When you come drunk a nights home, in the morning  
I'll make you amber Caudles.  Hold. 
sayst thou so;  
Give me thy hand: Father pray be not angry,  
My Wife's my wife, and so I will maintain her  
'gainst all the world. Sir Timothy, your spouse  
Is not to be contemned, she's a good girl.  
And therefore pray regard her.  Tim. 
Very like; for your sake  
I will do much: Although I find myself  
Made a stark Ass. Come hither Luce  Enter Clare, Grace, Thorougood, Freewit, Valentine, busy. Grace. 
Your pardon Sir, and blessing.  Clar. 
We have done sir  
What cannot be undone, now if you will  
Be foolish now, and vex yourselves, you may  
Be laughed at for your labour; they're our husbands,  
And we no cause now to repent our choice,  
Nor you Sir to repine at.  Free. 
Our duties  
And after carriage, shall deserve your love,  
Nor our fortunes Sir so mean, but may  
Merit their portions  Cov. 
Well, you shall not  
Report me cruel; you have my consent,  
And blessing with it; neighbour Busy, I'll  
Be friends with you, and at my entreaty  
Sir Geoffrey shall be reconciled.  Bus. 
How's that?  
Give me thy fist good brother Knight, my daughters  
Shall not come without portions; they shall have  
Each one a Bolt of Holland, that's enough.  
Son Knight give me thine too; and son Holdfast  
we'll be as merry boys, and drink old Sack  
In plenteous glasses, till we all grow witty,  
As humorous Poets; to your beds, they're ready,  
Your wedding dinner shall be mine, we'll dance.  
And have the Song o'th' Constable; March fair,  
And get each one a chopping boy by Morning;  
I and my Watchmen here will drink your healths,  
Though we do lose our own by it.  Free. 
Mr. Busy,  
we're all beholding to you, and 'tis fit,  
We should confess this Constable had wit.   
FINIS.