RAM-ALLEY: Or Merry-Tricks. A COMEDY divers times heretofore acted By the Children of the king's Revels.  
Written by Lo: Barrey.  
AT LONDON Printed by G. Eld, for Robert Wilson, and are to be sold at his shop in Holborn, at the new gate of Gray's Inn. 1611.   

The Prologue.  
Homebred mirth our Muse doth sing,  
The satires tooth and Waspish sting,  
Which most do hurt when least suspected,  
By this Play are not affected;  
But if Conceit with quick-turned Scenes,  
Observing all those ancient streams,  
Which from the Horsefoot fount do flow,  
As Time, Place, Person, and to show,  
Things never done with that true life,  
That thoughts and wits shall stand at strife,  
Whether the things now shown be true,  
Or whether we ourselves now do  
The things we but present: if these  
Free from the loathsome stage disease,  
(So overworn, so tired and stale,  
Not satiring but to rail,)  
May win your favours, and inherit  
But calm acceptance for his merit:  
A vows by Paper, Pen and Ink,  
And by the learned sister's drink,  
To spend his Time, his Lamps, his Oil,  
And never cease his brain to toil,  
Till from the silent hours of night,  
He doth produce for your delight,  
Conceits so new, so harmless free,  
That Puritans themselves may see  
A Play, yet not in public Preach,  
That Players such lewd doctrine teach  
That their pure joints do quake and tremble,  
When they do see a man resemble  
The Picture of a Villain: This  
As he a friend to Muses is,  
To you by me 'a gives his word,  
Is all his Play doth now afford.  
FINIS.   

Actorum nomina.  

Sir Oliver Smallshanks.  
justice Tutchin.  
Thomas Smallshanks.  
William Smallshanks.  
Boutcher.  
Lieutenant Beard.  
Throat.  
Captain Face.  
Dash.  
Three Gentlemen.  
A Drawer.  
Constable and Officers.   

Women.  
Lady Somerfield,  
Constantia Somerfield.  
Francis.  
Taffeta.  
Adriana,  
Chambermaid.    

Ram-Alley.  
Actus 1. Scaena 1,  Enter Constantia sola, with a letter in her hand. Const. 
IN this disguise, (ere scarce my mourning robes)  
Could have a general note, I have forsook,  
My shape, my mother. and those rich demeans,  
Of which I am sole heir, and now resolve,  
In this disguise of Page to follow him,  
Whose love first caused me to assume this shape.  
Lord how my feminine blood stirs at the sight  
Of these same breeches, methinks this codpiece  
Should betray me: well, I will try the worst,  
Hither they say he usually doth come,  
Whom I so much affect, what makes he here  
In the skirts of Holborn, so near the field,  
And at a garden house, 'a has some punk  
Upon my life: no more here he comes.  Enter Boutcher. 
God save you sir: your name unless I err,  
Is master Thomas Boutcher.  Bou. 
'Tis sweet boy. Con. delivers the let.  Con. 
I have a letter for you.  Bou. 
From whom be't,  Con. 
The inside sir will tell you: I shall see he reads it.  
What love he bears me now.  Bou. 
thouart welcome boy.  
How does the fair Constantia Somerfield,  
My noble mistress.  Con. 
I left her in health.  Bou. 
she gives thee here good words, and for her sake,  
Thou shalt not want a master, be mine for ever.  Con. 
I thank you sir: now shall I see the Punk. he knocks  Enter William Small-shank. W. Sm. 
Who knocks so fast? I thought 'twas you, what news.  Bout. 
You know my business well, I sing one song.  W. Sm. 
Foot, what would you have me do, my land is gone,  
My credit of less trust than courtier's words  
To men of judgement, and for my debts  
I might deserve a Knighthood; what's to be done?  
The Knight my father will not once vouchsafe  
To call me son; That little land 'a gave,  
Throat the Lawyer swallowed at one gob,  
For less than half the worth, and for the City  
There be so many rascals, and tall yeomen  
Would hang upon me for their maintenance,  
Should I but peep or step within the gates,  
That I am forced only to ease my charge,  
To live here in the suburbs: or in the town  
To walk in Tenebris, I tell you sir,  
Your best retired life is an honest Punk  
In a thatched house with Garlic: tell not me,  
My Punk's my Punk, and noble Lechery  
Sticks by a man, when all his friends forsake him.  Bou. 
The Pox it will, art thou so senseless grown,  
So much endeared to thy bestial lust,  
That thy original worth should lie extinct  
And buried in thy shame? far be such thoughts  
From spirits free and noble: begin to live,  
Know thyself, and whence thou art derived,  
I know that competent state thy father gave,  
Cannot be yet consumed.  W.S. 
'Tis gone by Heaven,  
Not a denier is left.  Bou. 
'Tis impossible.  W.S. 
Impossible 'sheart, I have had two suckers,  
Able to spend the wealthy Croesus' store.  Enter Francis. Bou. 
What are they?  W.S. 
Why a Lawyer and a Whore,  
See here comes one, dost think this petticoat,  
A perfumed smock, and twice a week a bathe,  
Can be maintained with half a years revenues,  
No by Heaven, we Annual younger brothers,  
Must go to't by wholesale, by wholesale man  
These creatures are maintained: her very face  
Has cost a hundred pound.  Fra. 
Sir, thank yourself.  Con. 
They keep this whore betwixt them.  Fra. 
You know sir,  
I did enjoy a quiet country life,  
Spotless and free, till you corrupted me,  
And brought me to the Court, I never knew,  
What sleeking, glazing, or what pressing meant,  
Till you preferred me to your Aunt the Lady,  
I knew no Ivory teeth, no caps of heir,  
No Mercury water, fucas, or perfumes,  
To help a Lady's breath, until your Aunt,  
learned me the common trick.  W.S. 
The common trick,  
Say you, a pox upon such common tricks,  
They will undo us all.  Bou. 
And knowing this  
Art thou so wilful blind, still to persist  
In ruin and defame.  W.S. 
What should I do?  
I'ave passed my word to keep this Gentlewoman,  
Till I can place her to her own content,  
And what is a Gentleman but his word.  Bou. 
Why let her go to service.  W S. 
To service,  
Why so she does, she is my laundress,  
And by this light, no puny Inn a Court  
But keeps a Laundress at his command  
To do him service, and shall not I, ha!  Fra. 
Sir, you are his friend (I love him to)  
Propound a course which may advantage him,  
And you shall find such real worth in me,  
That rather then I'll live his hindrance,  
I will assume the most penurious state  
The City yields, to give me means of life.  W. S 
Why there's it, you hear her what she says,  
Would not he be damned that should forsake her,  
Says she not well, can you propound a course,  
To get my forfeit land, from yonder rogue,  
Parcel Lawyer, parcel Devil, all Knave,  
Thrate, throat.  Bou. 
Not I.  W.S. 
Why so, I thought as much,  
You are like our Citizens to men in need,  
Which cry 'tis pity, a proper Gentleman,  
Should want money, yet not an usuring slave,  
Will lend him a denier, to help his wants,  
Will you lend me forty shillings.  Bou. 
I will.  W.S. 
Why godamercy, there's some goodness in thee,  
You'll not repent.  Bou. 
I will not.  W. S. 
With that money  
I will redeem my forfeit land, and wed  
My cockatrice to a man of worship,  
To a man of worship by this light.  Bou. 
But how?  W.S. 
Thus in Ram-Alley lies a fellow, by name  
Throat: one that professeth law, but indeed  
Has neither law nor conscience, a fellow  
That never saw the bar, but when his life  
Was called in question for a cozenage,  
The Rogue is rich, to him go you, tell him  
That rich Sir john Somerfield.  Con. 
How's that?  W. 
Is lately dead, and that my hopes stand fair  
To get his only daughter. If I speed,  
And have but means to steal away the wench,  
Tell him I reckon him my chiefest friend,  
To entertain us till our nuptial rites  
May be accomplished, and could you but procure  
My elder brother meet me on the way,  
And but associate me unto his house,  
'Twear hit i'faith, I'd give my cunning Throat  
An honest slit for all his tricks in law.  Bou. 
Why this shall be performed, take there's my store,  
To friends all things are common.  W.S. 
Then at the court  
There are none foes, for all things there are common.  Bou. 
I will as carefully perform thy wish,  
As if my fortunes lay upon th'attempt.  W.S. 
When shall I here from you.  Bou. 
Within this hour  W.S. 
Let me alone for the rest, if I gull not  
And go beyond my open throated lawyer,  
For all his book cases of Tricesimo nono  
And Quadragessimo octavo: let me  
Like waiting Gentlewomen be ever bound,  
To sit upon my heels, and pick rushes,  
Will you about this gear.  Bou. 
With my best speed.  W.S. 
Then fare you well, you'll meet me.  Bou. 
Without fail.  Exit Bouch: and Page. W.S. 
adieu: now you pernicious cockatrice,  
You see how I must skelder for your good,  
I'll bring you where you shall have means to cheat,  
If you have grace enough to apprehend it.  Fra. 
Believe me love, howe'er some stricter wits,  
Condemn all women which are prone to love,  
And think that if their favour fall on any,  
By consequence they must be nought with many,  
And hold a false position, that a woman  
False to herself, can trusty be to no man,  
Yet know I say, howe'er my life hath lost  
The fame which my Virginity aspired,  
I will be true to thee, my deed shall move,  
To win from all men pity, if not love.  W.S. 
Tut, I know thee a good rascal, let's in,  
And on with all your neat and finest rags.  
On with your cloak and safeguard, you arrant drab,  
You must cheat without all conscience, filch for thee & me.  
Do but thou act what I shall well contrive,  
we'll teach my Lawyer a new way to thrive. Exeunt.  Enter Mistress Tafata, and Adriana her maid above. Taf. 
Come loved Adriana here let us sit,  
And mark who passes; now for a wager,  
What coloured beard comes next by the window?  Adr. 
A black man's I think.  Taf. 
I think not so,  
I think a red, for that is most in fashion,  
Lord how scarce is the world of proper men  
And gallants; sure we never more shall see  
A good leg worn in a long silk stocking,  
With a long codpiece, of all fashions  
That carried it i'faith, what's he goes by?  Enter a Citizen. Adr. 
A snivelling Citizen, he is carrying ware, Exit.  
Unto some lady's chamber: but who's this?  Enter T. Smallshank reading a letter. Taf. 
I know him not, 'a looks just like a fool.  Adr. 
He's very brave a may be a Courtier,  
What's that 'a reads.  Taf. 
Ah how light 'a treads  
For dirting his silk stockings, I'll tell thee what,  
A witty woman may with ease distinguish,  
All men by their noses, as thus: your nose  
Tuscan is lovely, large and broad,  
Much like a Goose, your valiant generous nose.  
A crooked smooth and a great puffing nose,  
Your scholars nose is very fresh and raw  
For want of fire in winter, and quickly smells,  
His chops of mutton, in his dish of porridge.  
Your Puritan nose is very sharp and long,  
And much like your widows, and with ease can smell,  
An edifying capon some five streets off,  Enter Boutcher and Constantia. Adr. 
O mistress a very proper gentleman,  Tafa. 
And trust me so it is, I never saw  
A man that sooner could captive my thoughts  
(Since I writ widow) then this gentleman,  
I would a would look up.  Adr. 
I'll laugh so loud  
That he may hear me.  Tafa. 
That's not so good  Bou. 
And spoke you with Master Small-shank.  Con. 
I did.  Bou. 
Will 'a meet his brother.  Con. 
'a said a would,  
And I believed him, I tell you master  
I have done that for many of these gallants  
That no man in this town would do but I.  Bo. 
What's is that boy.  Con. 
Why trust them on their words  
But will you hear the news which now supplies,  
The city with discourse.  Bou. 
What is it wag  Con. 
This sir, they say some of our city dames  
Were much desirous to see the Baboons  
Do their newest tricks, went, saw them, came home,  
Went to bed, slept, next morning one of them,  
Being to shift a smock, sends down her maid,  
To warm her one, meanwhile she 'gins to think  
On the baboons tricks, and naked in her bed  
Begins to practise some, at last she strove,  
To get her right leg over her head; thus:  
And by her activity she got it  
Cross he shoulder: but not with all her power,  
Could she reduce it, at last much struggling  
Tumbles quite from the bed upon the flower,  
The maid by this returned with the warm smock,  
And seeing her mistress thrown on the ground  
Trust up like a football, exclaims, calls help,  
Runs down amazed, swears that her mistress neck  
Is broke up comes her husband and neighbours,  
And finding her thus trussed, some flatly said  
She was bewitch, others she was possessed,  
A third said for her pride, the Devil had set  
Her face where her rump should stand, but at last  
Her valiant husband steps me boldly to her,  
Helps her; she a ashamed; her husband amazed,  
The neighbours laughing as none forbear,  
She tells them of the fatal accident.  
To which one answers, that if her husband  
Would leave his trade, and carry his wife about  
To do this trick in public, she'd get more gold  
Than all the baboons, Calves with two tails,  
Or motions whatsoever.  Bou. 
You are a wag,  Taf. 
He willbe gone if we neglect to stay him.  Adr. 
Shall I cough or sneeze.  Taf. 
Noah I ha''t stand aside,  
ay me my handkercher Adriana, Fabia.  Adr. 
Mistress,  Taf. 
Run, run I have let my handkercher fall,  
Gentleman shall I entreat a courtesy,  Bur. 
Within my power your beauty shall command.  
What courtesy be't.  Tas. 
To stoop and take up,  
My handkercher.  Bou. 
Your desire is performed.  Taf. 
Sir most hearty thanks: please you come in  
Your welcome shall transcend your expectation.  Bou. 
I accept your courtesy, ha! what's this?  
Assailed by fear and hope in a moment.  
Boucher this womanish passion fits not men,  
Who know the worth of freedom: shall smiles and eyes  
With their lascivious glances conquer him  
Hath still been Lord of his affections?  
Shall simpering niceness loadstones but to fools,  
Attract a knowing spirit: it shall, it does,  
Not Phoebus rising from Aurora's lap,  
Spreads his bright rays with more majestic grace  
Then came the glances from her quickening eye  
And what of this.  Con. 
By my troth I know not  Bou. 
I will not enter: continued flames burn strong,  
I yet am free and reason keeps her seat,  
Above all fond affections yet is she fair.  Enter Adriana. Adr. 
Sir I bring you thanks for this great courtesy,  
And if you please to enter I dare presume,  
My mistress will afford you gracious welcome,  Bou. 
How do men call your mistress.  Con. 
The man's in love.  Adr. 
Her name sir is Mistress Changeable, late wife  
To master Tafata Mercer deceased.  Bour. 
I have heard she is both rich and beautiful,  Adr. 
In th' eyes of such as love her, judge yourself.  
Please you but prick forward and enter,  Con. 
Now will I fall a board the waiting maid,  Adr. 
Fall a board of me, dost take me for a ship,  Con. 
I And will shoot you betwixt wind and water.  Adr. 
Blurt master gunner your linstocks too short.  Con. 
Foot how did she know that, dost here sweet heart  
Should not the page be doing with the maid,  
Whilst the master is busy with the mistress,  
Please you prick forwards, thou art a wench  
Likely to go the way of all flesh shortly  Adr. 
Whose witty knave art thou.  Con. 
At your service.  Ad. 
At mine faith, I should breech thee.  Con. 
How breech me.  Adr. 
I breech thee, I have breech a taler man,  
Than you in my time, come in and welcome.  Con. 
Well I see now a rich well-practised bawd,  
May purse more fees in a summer's progress,  
Than a well traded lawyer in a whole term,  
Pandarism! why't is grown a liberal science  
Or a new sect, and the good professors  
Will like the Brownist frequent gravel pits shortly,  
For they use woods and obscure holes already.  Enter. Tafata and Boucher. 
Not marry a widow.  Bou. 
No.  Taf. 
And why?  
Belike you think it base and servant-like,  
To feed upon reversion, you hold us widows,  
But as a pie thrust to the lower end  
That hath had many fingers in't before,  
And is reserved for gross and hungry stomachs.  Bou. 
You much mistake me.  Taff. 
Come in faith you do:  
And let me tell you that's but ceremony,  
For though the Pie be broken up before,  
Yet says the proverb, the deeper is the sweeter.  
And though a capon's wings and legs be carved,  
The flesh left with the rump I hope is sweet.  
I tell you sir, I have been wooed, and sued to,  
By worthy Knights of fair demeans: nay more,  
They have been out of debt, yet till this hour,  
I neither could endure, to be in love.  
Or be beloved, but proffered ware is cheap.  
what's lawful that's loathed, and things denied,  
Are with more stronger appetite pursued.  
I am to yielding.  Bou. 
You mistake my thoughts.  
But know thou wonder of this continent,  
By one more skilled in unknown fate, then was,  
The blind Achaean Prophet, It was foretold,  
A widow should endanger both my life,  
My soul, my lands, and reputation,  
This checks my thoughts, and cools th'essential fire,  
Of sacred love; more ardent in my breast  
Then speech can utter.  Taf. 
A trivial Idle jest,  
'tis for a man, of your repute, and note,  
To credit fortune-tellers, a petty rogue,  
That never saw five shillings, in a heap  
Will take upon him to divine men's fate,  
Yet never knows himself, shall die a beggar,  
Or be hanged up for pilfering tablecloths,  
Shirts and smocks, hanged out to dry on hedges,  
'tis merely base, to trust them, or if there be,  
A man in whom the Delphic, God hath breathed,  
His true divining fire, that can foretell,  
The fixed decree of fate, he likewise knows,  
What is within the everlasting book,  
Of Destiny decreed cannot by wit,  
Or man's Invention be dissolved, or shunned,  
Then give thy love free scope embrace and kiss,  
And to the distaff sisters leave th'event,  Bou. 
How powerful are their words whom we affect,  
Small force shall need, to win the strongest for't,  
If to his state the Captain be perfidious,  
I must entreat you licence my depart  
For some few hours.  Taf. 
Choose what you will of time,  
There lies your way.  Bou. 
I will entreat her, stay.  Taf. 
Did you call sir.  Bou. 
No.  Taf. 
Then fare you well.  Bou. 
Who 'gins to love, needs not a second Hell.  Ent. Adr. Taf. 
Adriana, makes a no stay.  Adr. 
Mistress.  Taf. 
I prithee see if he have left the house,  
Peep close, see, but be not seen: is a gone.  Adr. 
No, has made a stand.  Ta. 
I prithee keep close.  Ad. 
Nay, keep you close you'd best.  Taf. 
What does he now?  Adr. 
Now 'a retires.  Bou, 
O you much partial gods!  
Why gave you men affections, and not a power  
To govern them? what I by fate should shun,  
I most affect, a widow, a widow.  Taf. 
Blows the wind there.  Adr. 
A ha, he's in i'faith,  
you'ave drawn him now within your purlieus mistress.  Bou. 
Tut I will not love, my rational  
And better parts shall conquer blind affections,  
Let passion children, or weak women sway,  
My love shall to my judgement still obey.  Taf. 
What does he now?  Adr. 
he's gone.  Taf. 
Gone Adriana.  Adr. 
'a went his way, and never looked behind him.  Taf. 
Sure he's taken.  Adr. 
A little singed or so,  
Each thing must have beginning, men must prepare  
Before they can come on, and show their loves  
In pleasing sort: the man will do in time,  
For love good Mistress is much like to wax,  
The more 'tis rubbed, it sticks the faster too,  
Or like a bird in bird-lime, or a pitfall,  
The more 'a labours, still the deeper in.  Taf. 
Come, thou must help me now, I have a trick  
To second this beginning, and in the nick,  
To strike it dead i'faith, women must woe,  
When men forget what Nature leads them too.  Enter Throat the Lawyer from his study books and bags of money on a Table, a chair and cushion. Thr. 
Chaste Phoebe, splende; there's that left yet,  
Next to my book, Claro micante Auro,  
I that's the soul of law: that's it, that's it,  
For which the buckram bag must trudge all weathers:  
Though scarcely filled with one poor replication,  
How happy are we that we joy the law,  
So freely as we do; not bought and sold,  
But clearly given, without all base extorting,  
Taking but bare ten Angels for a fee,  
Or upward: to this renowned estate,  
Have I by indirect and cunning means,  
Inwoven myself, and now can scratch it out,  
Thrust at a bar, and cry my Lord as lowed,  
As ere a listed gown-man of them all.  
I never plead before the honoured bench,  
But bench right-worshipful of peaceful justices  
And Country-Gentlemen, and yet I'ave found  
Good gettings by the Mass, besides odd cheats,  
Will Smallshanks lands and many garboils more,  Dash. 
Dash Sir.  Thr. 
Is that rejoinder done.  Da. 
Done sir.  Thr. 
Have you drawn't at length, have you dashed it out,  
According to your name.  Das. 
Some seven-score sheets.  Thr. 
Is the demurror drawn twixt Snip and Woodcock,  
And what do you say to peacock's pitiful bill,  Das. 
I have drawn his answer negative to all.  Thr. 
Negative to all. The plaintive says,  
That William Goose, was son to Thomas Goose,  
And will 'a swear the general bill is false.  Das. 
'a will.  Thr. 
Then he forswears his father, 'tis well,  
Some of our clients will go prig to hell  
Before ourselves; has a paid all his fees.  Das. 
A lest them all with me.  Thr. 
Then truss my points,  
And how thinkst thou of law?  Das. 
Most reverently,  
Law is the world's great light, a second sun,  
To this terrestrial Globe, by which all things  
Have life and being, and without which  
Confusion and disorder soon would seize  
The general state of men, wars, outrages,  
The ulcerous deeds of peace, it curbs and cures,  
It is the kingdoms eye, by which she sees  
The acts and thoughts of men.  Thr. 
The kingdoms eye,  
I tell thee fool, it is the kingdoms nose,  
By which she smells out all these rich transgressors,  
Nor be't of flesh but merely made of wax,  
And 'tis, within the power of us Lawyers,  
To wrest this nose of wax which way we please.  
Or it may be as thou sayst an eye indeed.  
But if it be 'tis sure a woman's eye knock within.  
That's ever rolling.  Das. 
one knocks.  Thr. 
Go see who 'tis,  
Stay, my chair, and gown, and then go see who knocks.  
Thus must I seem a Lawyer which am indeed,  
But merely dregs and offscum of the Law, En. Bou. Dash. and Consta.  
I tricesimo primo Alberti Magni  
'tis very clear.  Bou. 
God save you sir.  Thr. 
The place is very pregnant, Master Boucher;  
Most hearty welcome sir.  Bou. 
You study hard,  Thr. 
No I have a cushion.  Bou. 
You ply this gear,  
You are no truant in the law, I see.  Thr. 
Faith some hundred books in folio I have  
Turned over to better my own knowledge,  
But that is nothing for a student,  Bou. 
Or a Stationer they turn them over too,  
But not as you do gentle Master Throat,  
And what? the Law speaks profit does it not?  Thr. 
Faith some bad angels haunt us now and then,  
But what brought you hither.  Bou. 
Why these small legs,  Thr. 
You are conceited sir,  Bou. 
I am in Law.  
But let that go, and tell me how you do,  
How does Will Smallshanks and his lovely bride,  Th. 
Introth you make me blush, I should have asked,  
His health of you, but 'tis not yet too late.  Bou. 
Nay good sir Throat forbear your quillets now,  Thr. 
By Heaven I deal most plain, I saw him not,  
Since last I took his Mortgage.  Bou. 
Sir be not nice,  
(Yet I must needs herein commend your love)  
To let me see him; for know I know him wed,  
And that a stole away Somerfield's heir,  
Therefore suspect me not I am his friend,  Thr. 
How wed to rich Somerfield's only heir,  
Is old Somerfield dead?  Bou. 
Do you make it strange?  Thr. 
By heaven I know it nor.  Bou. 
Then am I grieved.  
I spoke so much (but that I know you love him.  
And is reserved for gross and hungry stomachs.  Bou. 
You much mistake me.  Taff. 
Come in faith you do:  
And let me tell you that's but ceremony,  
For though the Pie be broken up before,  
Yet says the proverb, the deeper is the sweeter.  
I should entreat your secrecy sir, fare you well.  Thro. 
Nay good sir stay, if ought you can disclose  
Of Master Smallshanks good, let me partake,  
And make me glad in knowing his good hap.  Bou. 
You much endear him sir, and from your love,  
I dare presume you make yourself a fortune  
If his fair hopes proceed.  Thr. 
Say on good sir.  Bou. 
You will be secret.  Thr. 
Or be my tongue torn out.  Bouch. 
Measure for a Lawyer, but to the point  
Has stole Somerfield's heir hither 'a brings her  
As to a man on whom a may rely  
His life and fortunes: you hath a named  
Already for the Steward of his lands,  
To keep his Courts, and to collect his rent,  
To let out Leases and to raise his fines,  
Nothing that may, or love, or profit bring,  
But you are named the man.  Thr. 
I am his slave  
And bound unto his noble courtesy-  
Even with my life, I ever said a would thrive,  
And I protest I kept his forfeit mortgage,  
To let him know what 'tis to live in want.  Bour. 
I think no less, one word more in private.  Con. 
Good Master Dash shall I put you now a case.  Dash. 
Speak on good Master Page.  Con. 
Then thus it is,  
Suppose I am a Page, he is my Master,  
My Master goes to bed and cannot tell  
What money's in his hose, I ere next day  
Have filched out some, what action lies for this.  Dash. 
An action boy, called firking the Posteriors,  
With us your action seldom comes in question:  
For that 'tis known that most of your Gallants  
Are seldom so well stored, that they forget  
What money's in their hose, but if they have,  
There is no other help then swear the page  
And put him to his oath.  Con, 
Then fecks-law,  
Dost think that he has conscience to steal,  
Has not a conscience likewise to deny.  
Then hang him up i'faith.  Bou. 
I must meet him,  Thr. 
Commend me to them, come when they will,  
My doors stand open and all within is theirs  
And though ram stinks with Cooks and ale,  
Yet say there's many a worthy lawyers chamber,  
butts upon Ram-alley, I have still an open throat,  
If ought I have which may procure his good,  
Bid him command, ay, though it be my blood. Ex.   

Actus Secundi. Scena Prima.  Enter Oliver Smaleshanke, Thomas Small Shank. S. Oli. 
Is this the place you were appointed to meet him.  Tho. S. 
So Boutcher sent me word.  Si. O. 
I find it true,  
That wine, good news, and a young wholesome wench  
Cheer up an old man's blood, I tell thee boy,  
I am right hearty glad, to hear thy brother;  
Hath got so great an heir; now were myself,  
So well bestowed I should rejoice i'faith.  Th. S. 
I hope you shall do well.  S.O. 
No doubt, no doubt.  
A sirrah has aborne the wench away,  
My son i'faith, my very son i'faith,  
When I was young and had an able back,  
And wore the bristle on my upper lip,  
In good Decorum I had as good conveyance,  
And could have fred, and ferked y'away a wench,  
As soon as ever a man alive; tut boy,  
I had my winks, my becks treads on the toe,  
Wrings by the fingers, smiles and other quirks,  
No Courtier like me, your Courtiers all are fools,  
To that which I could do, I could have done it boy.  
even to a hare, and that some Ladies know,  Th. S. 
Sir I am glad this match may reconcile,  
Your love unto my brother.  Si. O. 
'tis more than so.  
I'll seem offended still though I am glad,  Enter William Smals-shanke Francis, Beard booted. 
Has got rich Somerfield's heir.  Wi. S. 
Come wench of gold,  
For thou shalt get me gold, besides odd ends  
Of silver: we'll purchase house and land,  
By thy bare gettings, wench, by thy bare gettings,  
How sayest lieutenant-beard, does she not look  
Like a wench newly stole from a window?  Bea. 
Exceeding well she carries it by jove;  
And if she can forbear her Rampant trick,  
And but hold close a while 'twill take by Mars.  Fra. 
How now you slave? my rampant tricks you rogue,  
Nay fear not me my only fear is still,  
Thy filthy face betrays us, for all men know,  
Thy nose stands compass like a bow,  
Which is three quarters drawn, thy head.  
Which is with greasy hair o'erspread,  
And being uncurled and black as coal,  
Doth show some Scullion in a hole  
Begot thee on a gipsy, or  
Thy mother was some collier's whore  
My rampant tricks you rogue, thou'lt be descried  
Before our plot be ended.  W, S. 
What should descry him,  
Unless it be his nose? and as for that;  
Thou mayst protest a was thy father's butler,  
And for thy love is likewise run away,  
Nay sweet Lieutenant now forbear to puff,  
And let the bristles of thy beard grow downward,  
Reverence my Punk and Pandarize a little,  
there's many of thy rank that do profess it,  
Yet hold it no disparagement.  Bea. 
I shall do,  
What fits an honest man.  Wi. S. 
Why that's enough,  
Foot my Father and the goose my brother,  
Back you two.  Bea. 
Back.  Wi. S. 
retire sweet Lieutenant,  
And come not on, till I shall wave you on.  Si. O. 
Is not that he.  Th. S. 
'tis he.  Si. O. 
But where's the wench.  W.S. 
It shallbe so, I'll cheat him that's flat.  Sir Ol. 
You are well met, know ye me good sir,  
Belike you think I have no eyes, no ears,  
No nose to smell, and wind out all your tricks,  
Youhave stole Sir Somerfield's heir, nay we can find,  
Your wildest paths, your turnings and returns,  
Your traces, squats, the insets, forms and holes,  
You youngmen use, if once cursagest wits  
Be set a hunting, are you now crept forth,  
Have you hid your head within a suburb hole  
All this while, and are you now crept forth?  W. S 
'Tis a stark lie.  Sir. Ol. 
How?  W.S. 
who told you so did lie,  
Foot, a Gentleman cannot leave the City  
And keep the suburbs to take a little Physic,  
But strait some slave will say he hides his head:  
I hide my head within a Suburb hole,  
I could have holes at Court to hide my head,  
Were I but so disposed.  Sir Ol. 
Thou varlet knave,  
thouhast stolen away Sir john Somerfield's heir,  
But never look for countenance from me,  
Carry her whether thou wilt.  W.S. 
Father, father,  
'sheart will you undo your posterity.  
Will you sir undo your posterity?  
I can but kill my brother then hang myself,  
And where is then your house, make me not despair,  
Foot now I have got a wench, worth by the year  
Two thousand pound and upwards, to cross my hopes:  
Would ere a clown in Christendom do't but you.  Th. S. 
Good Father, let him leave this thundering,  
And give him grace.  W.S. 
Why la, my brother knows  
Reason, and what an honest man should do.  S. Ol. 
Well, where's your wife.  W.S. 
she's coming here behind,  S. Ol. 
I'll give her somewhat, though I love not thee.  W.S. 
My father right, I knew you could not hold  
Out long with a woman, but give something  
Worthy your gift and her acceptance father,  
This chain were excellent by this good-light,  
She shall give you as good if once her lands  Enter Frances Beard. 
Come to my fingering.  S.O. 
Peace knave, what's she your wife?  W.S. 
That shall be sir.  S. Ol 
And what's he.  W.S. 
My man.  S. Ol. 
A Ruffian Knave 'a is.  W.S. 
A Ruffian sir,  
By heaven, as tall a man as ere drew sword,  
Not being counted of the damned crew,  
'a was her father's Butler, his name is Beard,  
Of with your Mask, now shall you find me true,  
And that I am a son unto a Knight,  
This is my father.  S. Ol. 
I am indeed fair maid,  
My style is Knight: come let me kiss your lips.  W.S. 
That kiss shall cost your chain.  S.O. 
It smacks i'faith,  
I must commend your choice.  Fra. 
Sir I have given  
A longer venture then true modesty  
Will well allow, or your more graver wit  
Commend.  W.S. 
I dare be sworn she has.  S. Ol. 
Not so,  
The foolish knave has been accounted wild,  
And so have I, but I am now come home,  
And so will he.  Fra. 
I must believe it now.  W S. 
Beg his chain wench.  Be. 
will you cheat your father?  W.S. 
I by this light will I.  S. Ol. 
Nay sigh not.  
For you shall find him loving and me thankful.  
And were it not a scandal to my honour,  
To be consenting to my sons attempt,  
You should unto my house, meanwhile take this,  
As pledge and token of my after love:  
How long since died your father.  W.S. 
Some six weeks since.  
We cannot stay to talk, for slaves pursue,  
I have a house shall lodge us till the Priest  
May make us sure.  S. Ol. 
Well sirrah, love this woman,  
And when you are man and wife bring her to me,  
She shall be welcome.  W.S. 
I humbly thank you sir.  S. Ol. 
I must be gone, I must a-wooing too.  W.S. 
jove and Priapus speed you, you'll return.  Exit Sir Oliver and Thom: Small-shank. Th. S. 
Instantly.  W.S. 
Why this came cleanly off.  
Give me the chain, you little Cockatrice,  
Why this was luck, foot four hundred crowns  
Got at a clap, hold still your own you whore,  
And we shall thrive.  Bea. 
'twas bravely fetched about.  W.S. 
ay, when will your nose and beard perform as much.  Fra. 
I am glad he is gone, a put me to the blush  
When a did ask me of rich Somerfield's death.  W S. 
And took not I my q: was't not good,  
Did I not bring you off, you arrant drab,  
Without a counterbuff? look who comes here,  
And three merry men, and three merry men,  
And three merry men be we a.  Enter Boutcher and Constantia. Bou. 
Still in this vain, I have done you service,  
The lawyer's house will give you entertainment,  
Bountiful and free.  W. S 
O nay second self,  
Come let me buss thy beard, we are all made,  
Why are so melancholy, dost want money?  
Look here's gold, and as we pass along,  
I'll tell thee how I got it, not a word  
But that she's Somerfield's heir, my brother  
Swallows it with more ease, than a Dutchman  
Does flapdragons: 'a comes, now to my Lawyers:  Enter T. Small-shank. 
Kiss my wife, good brother; she is a wench  
Was borne to make us all.  Th. S. 
I hope no less,  
You're welcome sister into these our parts,  
As I may say.  Fra. 
Thanks gentle brother.  W. 
Come now to Ram-alley. There shalt thou lie,  
Till I provide a Priest.  Bou. 
O villainy!  
I think 'a will gull his whole generation,  
I must make one, since 'tis so well begun,  
I'll not forsake him, till his hopes be won. Exeunt.  Enter Throat, and two Citizens. Thr. 
Then you're friends.  Both. 
We are, so please your worship.  Thr. 
'Tis well, I am glad, keep your money, for law  
Is like a butler's box: while you two strive,  
That picks up all your money, you are friends,  Both. 
We are so please you, both perfect friends.  Th. 
Why so,  
Now to the next Taphouse, there drink down this,  
And by the operation of the third pot.  
Quarrel again, and come to me for law:  
Fare you well.  Both. 
The Gods concern your wisdom. E. Ci.  Thr. 
Why so, these are tricks of the long fifteens,  
To give counsel, and to take fees on both sides,  
To make 'em friends, and then to laugh at them.  
Why this thrives well, this is a common trick:  
When men have spent a deal of money in law,  
Than Lawyers make them friends: I have a trick  
To go beyond all these, if Small-shank come  
And bring rich Somerfield's heir, I say no more,  
But 'tis within this sconce to go beyond them.  Enter Dash. Das. 
Here are Gentlemen in haste would speak with you.  Thr. 
What are they?  Das. 
I cannot know them sir  
They are so wrapped in Cloaks.  Thr. 
Have they a woman?  Das. 
Yes sir, but she's Masked, and in her riding suit.  Thr. 
Go, make haste, bring them up with reverence,  
Oh are they i'faith, has brought the wealthy heir:  
These stools and cushions stand not handsomely.  Enter William Smallshank, Boutcher. Thomas Smallshank, Francis, and Beard. W. 
Bless thee Throat.  Thr. 
Master Small-shank welcome.  W.S. 
Welcome love, kiss this Gentlewoman, Throat.  Thr. 
Your worship shall command me.  WS. 
Art not weary.  Bou. 
Can you blame her since she has rid so hard?  Thr. 
You are welcome Gentlemen.— Dash.  Das. 
Sir.  Thr. 
A fire in the great chamber, quickly.  W. 
I that's well said, we are almost weary,  
But Master Throat, if any come to inquire  
For me, my brother, or this Gentlewoman,  
we are not here, nor have you heard of us.  Thr. 
Not a word sir, here you are as safe  
As in your father's house,  T.S. 
And he shall thank you.  W.S. 
thouart not merry love, good master Throat  
Bid this Gentlewoman welcome: she is one  
Of whom you may receive some courtesy  
In time.  Thr. 
She is most hearty welcome,  
Wilt please you walk into another room,  
Where is both bed and fire,  W. Sm. 
ay, ay, that that  
Good brother lead her in, Master Throat and I  
Will follow instantly, now Master Throat Exit.  
It rests within your power to pleasure me,  
Know that this same is sir john Somerfield's Heir,  
Now if she chance to question what I am,  
Say son unto a Lord, I pray thee tell her  
I have a world of land, and stand in hope  
To be created baron, for I protest  
I was constrained to swear it forty times  
And yet she'll scarce believe me.  Thro. 
pauca sapienti,  
Let me alone to set you out in length  
And breadth:  W. Sm. 
I prithee do't effectually:  
shalt have a quarter share by this good light,  
In all she has, I prithee forget not  
To tell her the Smallshanks have been dancers,  
Tilters, and very ancient Courtiers,  
And in request at Court since sir john Shorthose  
With his long silk stockings was beheaded,  
Wilt thou do this?  Thro. 
Refer it to my care.  W. Sm. 
Excellent, I'll but shift my boots, and then  
Go seek a Priest, this night I will be sure,  
If we be sure, it cannot be undone,  
Can it Master Throat?  Thr. 
O sir not possible:  
You have many precedents and book Cases for't,  
be you but sure and then let me alone.  
Vivat Rex, currat Lex and I'll defend you.  W. Sm. 
Nay then hang care, come let's in.  Thr. 
A ha,  
Have you stole her, fallere fallentem non est fraus. Exit. W. S,  
It shall go hard but I will strip you boy.  
You stole the wench, but I must her enjoy. Exit  Enter Mistress Taffeta, Adriana, below. 
Come Adriana, tell me what thou think'st,  
I am tickled with conceit of marriage,  
And whom think'st thou (for me) the fittest husband  
What sayst thou to young Bouchor.  Adri. 
A pretty fellow  
But that his back is weak,  Taff. 
What dost thou say  
To Throat the Lawyer?  Adri. 
I like that well,  
Were the Rogue a Lawyer, but he is none,  
He never was of any Inn-of-Court;  
But Inn of Chancery, where a was known,  
But only for a swaggering whiffler,  
To keep out rogues, and prentices, I saw him,  
When a was stocked for stealing the cook's fees.  
A Lawyer I could like, for 'tis a thing,  
Used by you Citizens wives, your husband's dead;  
To get French-hoods you straight must Lawyers wed,  Taf. 
What sayst thou then to Nimble Sir Oliu. Small-shank  Adr. 
Faith he must hit the hair: a fellow fit,  
To make a pretty Cuckold: take an old man,  
'tis now the newest fashion, better be  
An old man's darling, than a young man's warling,  
Take me the old brisk Knight, the fool is rich,  
And willbe strong enough to father children,  
Though, not to get them.  Taf. 
'tis true he is the man,  
Yet will I bear some dozen more in hand,  
And make them all my gulls.  Adr. 
Mistress stand aside.  Enter Boutcher, and Constantia. 
Young Boutcher comes let me alone to touch him.  Bou. 
This is the house.  Con. 
And that's the chambermaid.  Bou. 
where's the widow gentle Adriana.  Adr. 
The widow sir is not to be spoke to,  Bou. 
Not speak to, I must speak with her.  Adr. 
Must you!  
Come you with authority, or do you come  
To sue her with a warrant that you must speak with her.  Bou. 
I would Entreat it.  Adr. 
O you would entreat it,  
May not I serve your turn, may not I unfold,  
Your secrets to my Mistress, love is your suit,  Bou. 
It is fair creature.  Adr. 
And why did you fall off  
When you perceived my mistress was so cunning,  
D'you think she is still the same.  Bou. 
I do.  Adr. 
Why so,  
I took you for a novice; and I must think,  
You know not yet the innards of a woman,  
Do you not know that women are like fish,  
Which must be struck when they are prone to bite,  
Or all your labours lost, but sir walk here.  
And I'll inform my Mistress your desires.  Con. 
Master  Bou. 
boy.  Con. 
come not you for love,  Bou. 
I do boy  Con. 
And you would have the widow.  Bo. 
I would  Con. 
by jove  
I never saw one go about his business  
More untowardly: why sir, do not you know  
That he which would be inward with the Mistress,  
Must make a way first through the waiting maid?  
If you'll know the widows affections  
Feel first the waiting Gentlewoman; do it Master,  
Some half a dozen kisses were not lost  
Upon this Gentlewoman, for you must know  
These waiting-maids are to their Mistresses  
Like Porches unto doors, you pass the one  
Before you can have entrance at the other:  
Or like you're mustered to your piece of brawn,  
If you'll have one taste well you must not scorn  
To be dipping in the other, I tell you Master  
'tis not a few men's tales which they prefer  
Unto their Mistress, in compass of a year-  
Be ruled by me, untruss yourself to her,  
Out with all your lovesick thoughts to her,  
Kiss her and give her an angel to buy pings,  
And this shall sooner win her Mistress love,  
Than all your protestations, scythes and tears.  Enter Taffeta, Adriana. 
Here they come; to her boldly Master  
Do, but dally not, that's the widows phrase,  Bou. 
Most worthy fair such is the power of love  
That now I come t'accept your proffered grace,  
And with submissive thoughts t'entreat a pardon  
For my so gross neglect.  Taff. 
There's no offence,  
My mind is changed.  Adr. 
I told you as much before.  Con. 
With a heigh pass with a repass.  Bou. 
Dearest of women,  
The constant virtue of your nobler mind  
Speaks in your looks: Nor can you entertain  
Both love and hate at once.  Taff. 
'tis all in vain.  Adr. 
You strive against the stream.  Con. 
Fee the waiting-maid Master  Bou. 
Stand thou propitious, endear me to thy love  Boutcher gives Adriana his purse secretly. Adr. 
Dear Mistress turn to this Gentleman, I protest,  
I have some feeling of his constant love,  
Cast him not away, try his love.  Taf. 
Why sir,  
With what audacious front can you entreat  
To enjoy my love, which yet not two hours since,  
You scornfully refused.  Con. 
Well sare the waiting maid.  Bou. 
My fate compelled me, but now farewell fond fear,  
My soul, my life, my lands, and reputation,  
I'll hazard all, and prize them all beneath thee.  Taf. 
Which I shall put to trial, lend me thy ear.  Ad. 
Can you love boy  Co, 
Yes.  Ad. 
What or whom.  Co. 
My victuals.  Adr. 
A pretty knave, i'faith come home tonight,  
Shalt have a posset and candied Eringoes,  
A bed if need be to, I love a life,  
To play with such Baboons as thou.  Con. 
Indeed,  
But dost think the widow will have my master.  Adr. 
I'll tell thee then, wilt come.  Con. 
I will.  Ad. 
Remember.  Taf. 
Will you perform so much.  Bou. 
Or lose my blood.  Taf. 
Make him subscribe it, and then I vow,  
By sacred Vesta's ever hallowed fire,  
To take thee to my bed.  Bou. 
Till when farewell. Exe.  Taf. 
he's worthy love, whose virtues most excel.  Adr. 
Remember, what be't a match betwixt you Mistress?  Taf. 
I have set the fool in hope, has undertook  
To rid me of that fleshy Captain Face,  
Which swears in Taverns, and all Ordinaries,  
I am his lawful wife: he shall allay,  
The fury of the Captain, and I secure,  
Will laugh at the disgrace they both endure. Ex:  Enter Throat and Francis. Thr. 
Open your case, and I shall soon resolve you.  Fra. 
But will you do it truly.  Thr. 
As I am honest.  Fra. 
This Gentleman whom I so much affect,  
I scarcely yet do know, so blind is love,  
In things which most concerns it, as you're honest  
Tell me his birth, his state, and farthest hopes.  Thr. 
He is my friend, and I will speak him truly,  
He is by birth, son to a foolish Knight,  
His present state I think will be the prison,  
And farthest hope to be bailed out again,  
By sale of all your land.  Fra. 
O me accursed,  
Has 'a no credit, Lands and Manors.  Thr. 
That lands he has lies in a fair Church-yard,  
And for his manners, they are so rude and wild,  
That scarce an honest man will keep him company.  Fra. 
I am abused, cozened, and deceived.  Thr. 
Why that's his occupation, he will cheat  
In a cloak lined with Velvet, 'a will prate  
Faster than five Barbers and a tailor,  
Lie faster than ten City occupiers,  
Or cunning tradesmen: goes a trust  
In every Tavern where has spent a faggot,  
Swears love to every whore, squires bawds,  
And takes up houses for them as their husband.  
'a is a man I love, and have done much  
To bring him to preferment.  Fra. 
Is there no trust,  
No honesty in men.  Thr. 
Faith some there is,  
And 'tis all in the hands of us Lawyers  
And women, and those women which have it,  
Keep their honesty so close, that not one  
Amongst a hundred is perceived to have it.  Fra. 
Good sir, may I not by law forsake him  
And wed another, though my word be past  
To be his wife.  Thr. 
O questionless you may,  
You have many precedents and bookcases for't,  
Nay, though you were married by a bookcase,  
Of Milesimo sexantesimo, &c.  
You may forsake your husband, and wed another,  
Provided that some fault be in the husband,  
As none of them are clear.  Fra. 
I am resolved,  
I will not wed him, though I beg my bread.  Thr. 
All that I have is yours, and were I worthy  
To be your husband.  Fra. 
I thank you sir,  
I will rather wed a most perfidious redshank,  
A noted Jew, or some Mechanic slave,  
Then let him joy my sheets.  Thr. 
'a comes, 'a comes,  Enter W Smal. Boutcher, T. Smal. Beard. W.S. 
Now my Virago, 'tis done, all's cocksure,  
I have a Priest will mumble up a marriage,  
Without bell, book, or candle, nimble slave,  
A honest Welshman that was a tailor,  
But now is made a Curate.  Bea. 
Nay you're fitted.  Bou. 
Now master Throat.  T.S. 
Where's your spirit sister?  W.S. 
What all amort? what's the matter? do you here?  Bou. 
What's the reason of this melancholy?  Thr. 
By heaven I know not.  W.S. 
Has the gudgeon bit.  Fra. 
He has been nibbling.  W.S. 
Hold him to it wench,  
And it 'twill hit by heaven: why art so sad?  
Foot wench we will be married tonight,  
we'll sup at th'mitre, and from thence  
My brother and we three will to the Savoy,  
Which done, I tell thee girl, we'll hand over head,  
Go to't pell-mell for a maidenhead,  
Come yo'are lusty, you wenches are like bells,  
You give no music, till you feel the clapper,  
Come Throat a torch, we must be gone.  Fra. 
Servant. Ex.  Bea. 
Mistress.  Fra. 
We are undone.  Bea. 
Now jove forfend.  Fra. 
This fellow has no land; and which is worse,  
He has no credit.  Bear. 
How are we outstripped,  
Blown up by wit of man: Let us be gone  
Home again, home again, our market now is done.  Fra. 
That were too great a scandal.  Thr. 
Most true,  
Better to wed another then to return  
With scandal and defame; wed me a man  
Whose wealth may reconcile your mother's love,  
And make the action lawful.  Bea. 
But where's the man?  
I like your council, could you show the man.  Thr. 
myself am he, might I but dare aspire  
Unto so high a Fortune.  Bea. 
Mistress, take the man,  
Shall we be baffled with fair promises,  
Or shall we trudge, like beggars back again,  
No, take this wise and virtuous man,  
Who should a lose his legs, his arms, his ears,  
His nose, and all his other members,  
Yer if his tongue be left 'twill get his living,  
Take me this man.  Thr. 
Thanks gentle master Beard.  Fra 
'Tis impossible, this night he means to wed me.  Thr. 
If not by law, we will with power prevent it,  
So you but give consent.  Fra. 
Let's here the means.  Thr. 
I'll muster up my friends, and thus I cast it,  
Whilst they are busy, you and I will hence  
Directly to a Chapel, where a Priest  
Shall knit the nuptial knot ere they pursue us.  Bea 
O rare invention, I'll act my part,  
'a owes me thirteen pound, I say no more,  
But there be catchpoles: speakest a match.  Fra. 
I give my liking.  Thr. 
Dash.  Das. 
Sir.  Thr. 
Get your sword  
And me my buckler, nay you shall know  
We are Tam marti quam mercurio,  
Bring my cloak, you shall thither, I'll for friends,  
Worship and wealth the lawyer's state attends.  
Dash, we must bear some brain, to Saint John's street,  
Go run, fly: and afar off inquire,  
If that the Lady Somerfield be there,  
If there, know what news, and meet me strait  
At the mitre door in Fleetstreet, away,  
"To get rich wives, men must not use delay.   

Actus 3. Scaena 1.  Enter Sir Oliver Smallshank, justice Tutchim. Iu. Tu. 
A hunting Sir Oliver and dry-foot to,  S. Ol. 
We old men have our crotchets, our conundrums,  
Our fegaries, quirks and quibibles,  
As well as youth, justice Tutchim I go  
To hunt no Buck, but prick a lusty do,  
I go in truth a-wooing.  I. Tu. 
Then ride with me,  
I'll bring you to my sister Somerfield.  S. Ol. 
justice not so: by her there hangs a Tale.  I. Tu. 
That's true indeed.  S. Ol. 
She has a daughter.  I. Tu. 
And what of that.  S. Ol. 
I likewise have a son,  
A villainous Boy, his father up and down,  
What should I say, these Velvet bearded boys,  
Will still be doing, say what we old men can,  I. Tu. 
And what of this Sir Oliver, be plain,  S. Oli. 
A nimble spirited knave, the villain boy,  
Has one trick of his sire, has got the wench.  
Stolen your rich sister's heir.  I. Tu. 
Somerfield's heir,  S. Ol. 
Has done the deed, has pierced the vessels head,  
And knows by this the vintage.  I. Tu. 
when should this be,  Si. Ol. 
As I am by my council well informed,  
This very day,  I. Tu. 
Tut It cannot be,  
Some ten miles hence I saw the maid last night.  S. Ol, 
Maids may be maids tonight and not tomorrow.  
Women are free and sell their maidenheads,  
As men sell cloth, by yard and handful,  
But if you chance to see your Sister widow,  
Comfort her tears and say her daughters matched,  
With one that has a knocker to his Father,  
An honest Noble Knight.  I. Tu. 
Stand close Knight, close,  
And mark this captains humour, his name is Puff,  
A dreams as 'a walks, and thinks no woman  Enter Captain puff. 
Sees him but is in love with him.  Pu. 
'twere brave,  
If some great Lady, through a window spied me,  
And straight should love me, say she should send,  
5000 pound unto my Lodging,  
And crave my company: with that money,  
I would make three several cloaks, and line them  
With black, Crimson, and Tawny three piled velvet,  
I would eat at Chares Ordinary, and dice  
At Antony's: then would I keep my whore,  
In beaten velvet and, have two slaves to tend her.  Si. Ol. 
Ha ha ha.  Puf. 
What my case of justices,  
What are you eavesdropping or do you think,  
Your tawny coats with greasy facings here,  
Shall carry it? Sir Oliver Smallshanks,  
Know my name is Puff, Knight, thee have I sought,  
To fright thee from thy wits.  I. Tu. 
Nay good Sir Puff,  
We have to many mad men already,  Pu. 
How? I tell thee justice Tuchim, not all  
Thy Bailiffs, Sergeants busy Constables,  
Defesants, warrants, or thy Mittimuses,  
Shall save his throat from cutting if he presume,  
To woe the widow yclept Tafata,  
She is my wife by oath. Therefore take heed,  
Let me not catch thee in the widows house,  
If I do, I'll pick thy head upon my sword,  
And piss in thy very visnomy, beware, beware.  
Come there no more, a captain's word,  
Flies not so fierce as doth his fatal sword, Exit puff.  Si. O. 
How like you this, shall we endure this thunder,  
Or go no further.  I. Tu. 
We will on Sir Oliver,  
We will on, let me alone to touchim,  
I wonder how my spirit did forbear,  
To strike him on the face: had this been spoke,  
Within my Liberties, had died for it.  Enter Cap. puff. Si. Ol. 
I was about to draw.  Pu. 
If you come there,  
Thy beard shall serve to stuff, those balls by which  
I get me heat at tennis.  I Tu. 
Is he gone. Exit puff.  
I would a durst a stood to this awhile,  
Well I shall catch him in a narrow room,  
Where neither of us can flinch; If I do,  
I'll make him dance a trenchmoor to my sword,  
Come I'll along with you to the widow.  
We will not be outbraved, take my word,  
we'll not be wronged while I can draw a sword. Exit.  Enter Throat and other Gentlemen. Thr. 
Let the Cotch stay at Show-lane end: be ready,  
Let the boot stand open, and when she's in:  
Hurry towards Saint Gyles in the field,  
As if the Devil himself were wagoner,  
Now for an arm of oak, and heart of steel,  
To bear away the wench, to get a wife,  
A gentlewoman, a maid, nay which is more,  
An honest maid, and which is most of all,  
A rich and honest maid: O jove jove!  
For a man to wed such a wife as this,  
Is to dwell in the very suburbs of Heaven,  1. Gen. 
Is she so exquisite.  Thr. 
Sir she is rich  
And a great heir.  2. Gen. 
'tis the more dangerous,  Thr. 
Dangerous? Lord where be those gallant spirits,  
The time has been when scarce an honest woman,  
Much less a wench could pass an Inn of court,  
But some of the fry would have been doing  
With her: I knew the day when Shreds a tailor  
Coming once late by an Inn of Chancery,  
Was laid along, and muffled in his cloak,  
His wife took in, Stitched up, turned out again,  
And he persuaded all was but in jest,  
Tut those brave boys are gone, these which are left,  
Are wary lads, live poring on their books,  
And give their linen to their laundresses,  
By tail, they now can save their purses,  
I knew when every gallant had his man.  
But now a twelvepenny weekly Laundress,  
Will serve the turn to half a dozen of them,  Enter Dash. 
Here comes my man, what news.  Das. 
As you would wish.  
The Lady Somerfield is come to town,  
Her horses yet are walking, and her men say,  
Her only daughter, is conveyed away,  
No man knows how: now to it mast,  
You and your Servant Dash are made for ever  
If you but stick to it now.  Thr. 
Gentlemen,  
Now show yourselves at full, and not a man,  
But shares a fortune with me if I speed.  Enter William Smallshank Boutcher. Thomas Smallshank, Francis and Bear. with a torch. 1. Gen. 
Tut fear not us be sure you run away,  
And we'll perform the quarrel.  Thr. 
Stand close, they come,  W. 
Art sure he willbe here  Fr. 
Most sure.  W. 
Beard. Be. Sir.  W. 
Bear up the torch, and keep your way apace  
Directly to the Savoy.  Th. S. 
Have you a Licence,  
Look to that brother before you marry,  
For fear the Parson lose his benefice.  Wi. S. 
Tut our Curate craves no licence, 'a swears  
His living came to him by a miracle,  Bou. 
How by miracle?  Wi. S. 
Why 'a paid nothing for't,  
'a swears that few be free from Simony,  
But only Welshmen, and those 'a says to,  
Are but mountain Priests.  Bou. 
But hang him fool he lies,  
What's his reason?  Wi. S. 
His reason is this,  
That all their livings are so rude and bare,  
That not a man, will venture his damnation  
By giving money for them: a does protest,  
There is but two pair, of hose, and shoes,  
In all his Parish.  1, Gen. 
Hold up your light Sir.  Bea. 
Shall I be taught how to advance my torch,  W.S. 
What's the matter Lieutenant.  2. Ge. 
Your Lieutenants an ass.  Bea. 
How an ass; die men like dogs.  W, S. 
hold gentlemen.  Bea. 
An ass, an ass.  Th. S. 
Hold brother hold, Lieutenant.  
Put up as you are men, your wife is gone.  W. 
Gone.  Bou. 
Gone.  W.S. 
How, which way? this is some plot,  T.S. 
Down toward Fleet bridge.  All. 
Follow, follow, follow. Ex.  1. Gen. 
So has the wench let us pursue a loof,  
And see the event, this will prove good mirth,  
When things unshaped shall have a perfect birth. Exit.  Enter W. Smal-shancke Boucher, Thom. Smal. and Beard, their swords drawn. W. 
'tis a thing unpossible, they should be gone  
Thus far and we not see them.  T.S. 
Upon my life.  
They went in by the Greyhound, and so struck,  
Into Bridewell.  Bou. 
What should she make there;  T.S. 
Take water at the dock.  Bea. 
Water at Dock,  
A fico for her Dock, you'll not be ruled.  
You'll still be obstinate, I'll pawn my fate,  
She took a long show-lane, and so went home,  W.S. 
Home.  Bea. 
I home; how could she chose but go,  
Seeing so many naked tools at once,  
Drawn in the street?  T.S. 
What scurvy luck was this,  W.S. 
Come we will find her, or we'll fire the Suburbs,  
Put up your tools, let's first along show-lane,  
Then strait up Holborn, If we find her not;  
we'll thence direct to Throats, if she be lost  
I am undone and all your hopes are crossed. Exit.  Enter Sir Oliver Smaleshankes, justice Tutchim, Mistress Tafata, Adriana. Sir Ol. 
Widow I must be short.  Iu. Tu. 
Sir Oliver,  
Will you shame yourself, ha? You must be short,  
Why what a word was that to tell a widow?  Sir Ol. 
I meant I must be brief.  Iu. Tut. 
Why say so then,  
Yet that's almost as ill; go to, speak on.  Sir Ol. 
Widow I must be brief, what old men do,  
They must do quickly.  Taf. 
Then good sir do it,  
widows are seldom slow to put men to it.  Sir Ol. 
And old men know their q's, my Love you know,  
Has been protested long, and now I come  
To make my latest tender, an old grown oak  
Can keep you from the rain, and stands as fair  
And portly as the best.  Taf. 
Yet search him well,  
And we shall find no pith or hearty Timber  
To underlay a building.  Iu. Tu. 
I would that Oak  
Had been a fire: Forward good sir Oliver,  
Your Oak is nought: stick not too much to that.  Sir Ol. 
If you can like, you shall be Ladified,  
Live at the court, and soon be got with child,  
What do you think we old men can do nothing?  Iu: Tut: 
This was somewhat like:  Sir Ol. 
You shall have jewels,  
A Baboon, parrot, and an Iceland Dog,  
And I myself to bear you company.  
Your jointer is five hundred pound by year,  
Besides your Plate, your Chains and household stuff,  
When envious fate shall change this mortal life.  Taf. 
But shall I not be overcloyed with love?  
Will you nor be too busy shall I keep  
My chamber by the month, if I be pleased  
To take Physic, to send for Visitants,  
To have my maid read Amadis de Gaul,  
Or Donzel deal Phoebo to me? shall I have  
A caroche of the last edition,  
The Coachman's seat a good way from the Coach,  
That if some other Ladies and myself  
Chance to talk bawdy, he may not overhear us.  S. Ol. 
All this and more.  Taf. 
Shall we have two chambers?  
And will you not presume unto my bed,  
Till I shall call you by my waiting maid.  S. Ol. 
Not I by heaven.  Taf. 
And when I send her,  
Will you not entice her to your lust,  
Nor tumble her before you come to me.  Adr. 
Nay let him do his worst, make your match sure,  
And fear not me, I never yet did fear  
Any thing my master could do to me. Knock.  Taf. 
What noise is that, go see Adriana,  
And bring me word: I am so haunted  
With a swaggering Captain, that swears God bless us  
Like a very termagant, a Rascal knave, Enter Adr.  
That says he will kill all men which seeks to wed me.  Adr. 
O Mistress! Captain Puff half drunk, is now  
Coming up stairs.  S. Ol. 
O God have you no room  
Beyond this Chamber, has sworn to kill me,  
And piss in my very visnomy,  Taf. 
What are you afraid Sir Oliver?  S. Ol 
Not afraid,  
But of all men I love not to meddle with a Drunkard:  
Have you any Rome backwards.  Taf. 
None Sir.  Iu. Tu. 
Is there near a Trunk or cupboard for him,  
Is there near a hole backwards to hide him in.  Cap. Pu. 
I must speak with her.  S. Ol. 
O God 'a comes.  Adr. 
Creep under my Mistress Farthingale Knight,  
That's the best and safest place in the Chamber.  I. Tu. 
I there, there, that he will never mistrust.  Adr. 
Enter Knight, keep close, gather yourself  
Round like a Hedgehog stir not whate'er you near,  
See or smell Knight, God bless us, here 'a comes. Ent. C. Puff.  Ca. Pu. 
Bless thee widow and wife.  Taf. 
Sir get you gone.  
Leave my house, or I will have you conjured  
With such a spell, you never yet have heard of,  
Have you no other place to vent your froth,  
But in my house, is this the fittest place,  
Your Captainship can find to puff in: ha!  Ca Pu. 
How, am I not thy spouse, didst thou not say,  
These arms should clip thy naked body fast,  
Betwixt two linen sheets, and be sole Lord  
Of all thy pewter work, thy word is past,  
And know that man is powder, dust, and earth,  
That shall once dare to think thee for his wife.  Taf. 
How now you slave, one call the Constable.  C. Puf. 
No Constable with all his halberteers,  
Dare once advance his head, or peep up stairs,  
If I cry but keep down: have I not lived,  
And marched on the sieged walls,  
In thunder, lightning, rain, and snow,  
And eke in shot of powdered balls,  
Whose costly marks are yet to show?  Taf. 
Captain Face, for my last husband's sake,  
With whom you were familiarly acquainted,  
I am content to wink at these rude tricks,  
But hence, trouble me no more, if you do,  
I shall lay you fast, where you shall see  
No Sun or Moon.  C, Puf. 
Nor yet the Northern Pole,  
A fico for the Sun and Moon, let me live in a hole,  
So these two stars may shine.  Taf. 
Sir, get you gone,  
You swaggering, cheating, Turnbull-street rogue,  
Or I will hale you to the common-jail,  
Where Lice shall eat you.  C. Pu. 
Go to, I shall spurn  
And slash your petticoat.  Taf. 
Run to the Counter,  
Fetch me a red-bearded sergeant, I'll make  
You Captain think the Devil of hell is come  
To fetch you, if he once fasten on you.  C. Pu. 
damn thee & thy Sergeants, thou mercer's Punk.  
Thus will I kick thee and thy Farthingales.  S. Ol. 
Hold Captain.  C Pu. 
What do you cast your whelps.  
What have I found you sir? have not I placed  
My Sakers, culverins, Demi-culverings,  
My Cannons, Demi-cannons, Basilisks,  
Upon her breach, and do I not stand,  
Ready with my Pike to make my entry,  
And are you come to man her?  S. Ol. 
Good Captain hold.  C. Pu. 
Are not her Bulwarks Parapets, Trenches,  
Scarves, counterscarfs, Fortifications,  
Curtains, Shadows, Mines, Countermines,  
Rampires, Forts, Ditches, Works, waterworks,  
And is not her half-moon mine, and do you bring  
A rescue goodman Knight  Taf. 
Call up my men, Enter 2. or 3. with clubs.  
Where be these knaves, have they no ears or hearts,  
Beat hence this rascal, some other fetch a warrant,  
I'll teach him know himself.  I. Tu. 
Down with the slave.  S. Ol. 
'Tis not your beard shall carry it, down with the rogue.  C. Pu. 
Not Hercules 'gainst twenty.  I. Tu. 
A sirrah, Ex: Face  
I knew my hands no longer could forbear him,  
Why did you not strike the Knave, sir Oliver?  S. Ol. 
Why so I did.  I. Tu. 
But then it was too late.  S. Ol. 
What would you have me do when I was down,  
And he stood thundering with his weapon drawn,  Enter Adriana. 
Ready to cut my throat.  Adr. 
The rogue is gone,  
And here's one from the Lady Somerfield,  
To entreat you come with all the speed you can,  
To Saint John's street.  I. Tu. 
Which I will do.  Taf. 
Gentlemen  
I am sorry you should be thus disturbed  
Within my house, but now all fear is past,  
You are most welcome: supper ended,  
I'll give a gracious answer to your suit,  
meanwhile let nought dismay, or keep you mute. Ex.  Enter Throat, Francis, and Dash. Thr. 
Pay the Coachman Dash, pay him well,  
And thank him for his speed. Now Vivat Rex,  
The knot is knit, which not the law itself,  
With all his Hydra heads and strongest nerves,  
Is able to disjoin: Now let him hang,  
Fret out his guts, and swear the stars from Heaven,  
A never shall enjoy you, you shall be rich.  
Your Lady mother this day came to town  
In your pursuit: we will but shift some rags,  
And strait go take her blessing.  Fra. 
That must not be,  
Furnish me with jewels, and then myself,  
Attended by you man and honest Beard,  
Will thither first, and with my Lady mother  
Crave a peace for you.  Thr. 
I like that well,  
Her anger somewhat calmed, I brisk and fine,  
Some half hour after will present myself  
As son in law unto her, which she must needs  
Accept with gracious looks.  Fra. 
I when she knows  
Before by me, from what an eminent plague  
Your wisdom has preserved me.  Thr. 
ay, that, that,  
That will strike it dead: but here comes Beard.  Enter Beard. Bea 
What are you sure, tide fast by heart and hand.  Thr. 
I now do call her wife, she now is mine,  
Sealed and delivered by an honest Priest,  
At Saint Giles in the field.  Bea. 
God give you joy sir.  Thr. 
But where's mad Small-shank.  Bea 
O hard at hand,  
And almost mad with loss of his fair bride,  
Let not my lovely Mistress be seen,  
And see if you can draw him to compound  
For all his title to her, I have Sergeants  
Ready to do the feat, when time shall serve.  Thr. 
Stand you aside dear love nay I will firk  
My silly novice, as he was never firked  
Since Midwives bound his noddle: here they come.  Enter W. Smallsh. Th. Smalsh. and Boucher. W. 
O Master Throat, unless you speak good news,  
My hopes are crossed, and I undone for ever.  Thr. 
I never thought you'd come to other end,  
Your courses have been always so profane,  
Extravagant and base.  W. 
Nay good sir hear?  
Did not my love return? came she not hither,  
For jove's love speak.  Thr. 
Sir will you get you gone,  
And seek your love elsewhere; for know my house  
Is not to entertain such customers  
As you and your comrades.  W. 
Is the man mad,  
Or drunk, why Master Throat know you to whom  
You talk so saucily?  Thr. 
Why unto you,  
And to your brother Small-shanks, will you be gone?  Bou. 
Nay good sir hold us not in this suspense,  
Answer directly, came not the Virgin hither.  Thr. 
Will you be gone directly, are you mad?  
Come you to seek a Virgin in Ram-alley  
So near an Inn of Court, and amongst Cooks,  
Ale-men and Laundresses, why are you fools?  W Sm. 
Sir leave this firk of law, or by this light  
I'll give your throat a slit, came she not hither?  
Answer to that point.  Thr. 
What, have you lost her?  
Come do not gull your friends.  W. Sm. 
By heaven she's gone  
Unless she be returned since we last left you.  Thr. 
Nay then I cry you mercy, she came not hither  
As'am an honest man: be't possible  
A maid so lovely, fair, so well demeaned,  
Should be took from you? what from you three?  
So young, so brave and valiant Gentlemen?  
Sure it cannot be.  T. Sm. 
afore God 'tis true.  W. Sm. 
To our perpetual shames 'tis now too true.  Thr. 
Is she not left behind you in the Tavern?  
Are you sure you brought her out? were you not drunk  
And so forgot her?  W. Sm. 
A pox on all such luck,  
I will find her, or by this good light  
I'll fire all the City, come let's go,  
whoever has her shall not long enjoy her,  
I'll prove a contract, let's walk the round,  
I'll have her if she keep above the ground. Exit.  Thr. 
Ha ha ha, 'a makes me sport. i'faith  
The gull is mad, stark mad, Dash draw the bond  
And a release of all his interest  
In this my loved wife,  Bea. 
I be sure of that,  
For I have certain goblins in buff jerkins Enter with the sergeant.  
Lie in ambuscado for him.  Off. 
I arrest you sir:  W. Sm. 
Rescue, rescue.  Th. 
O he is caught.  W. Sm. 
I'll give you bail  
Hang off honest catchpoles  M. Thr. 
good, wise,  
Learned, and honest master Throat, now, now,  
Now or never help me..  Thro. 
What's the matter?  W. Sm. 
Here are two retainers, hangers on sir,  
Which will consume more than ten liveries,  
If by your means they be not strait shook off:  
I am arrested.  Thr. 
Arrested? what's the sum?  W.S. 
But thirteen pound, due to Beard the Butler,  
Do but bail me, and I will save you harmless.  Thr, 
Why here's the end of Riot, I know the law,  
If you be bailed by me, the debt is mine,  
Which I will undertake.  W.S. 
la there; Rogues,  
Foot I know he would not let me want  
For thirteen pounds.  Thr. 
Provided, you seal a release,  
Of all your claim to Mistress Somerfield.  W.S. 
Sergeants do your kind, hale me to the hole,  
Seal a release, sergeant come, to prison,  
Seal a release for Mistress Somerfield,  
First I will stink in jail, be eat with Lice,  
Endure an object worse than the Devil himself,  
And that's ten Sergeants peeping through the grates  
Upon my lousy linen, come to jail,  
Foot a release.  T.S. 
there's no conscience in it.  Bou. 
'Tis a demand uncharitable.  Thr. 
Nay choose.  Fra. 
I can hold no longer, impudent man.  W.S. 
My wife, foot my wife, let me go sergeants.  Fra. 
O thou perfidious man darest thou presume  
To call her wife, whom thou so much hast wronged,  
What conquest hast thou got, to wrong a maid,  
A silly harmless maid? what glory be't  
That thou hast thus deceived a simple Virgin,  
And brought her from her friends? what honour was't  
For thee to make the Butler lose his office  
And run away with thee. Your tricks are known,  
Didst thou not swear thou shouldst be Baronized?  
And hadst both lands and fortunes? both which thou want'st.  W.S. 
Foot that's not my fault, I would have lands  
If I could get 'em.  Fra. 
I know your trick:,  
And know I now am wife unto this man.  Omn. 
How?  Thr. 
I thank her sir, she has now vouchsafed  
To cast herself on me.  Fra. 
Therefore subscribe,  
Take somewhat of him for a full release,  
And pray to God to make you an honest man,  
If not, I do protest by earth and Heaven,  
Although I starve, thou never shalt enjoy me.  Bea. 
Her vow is past, nor will she break her word;  
Look to it mitcher.  Fra. 
I hope 'a will compound.  W. S 
Foot shall I give two thousand pound a year  
For nothing.  T.S. 
Brother come, be ruled by me,  
Better to take a little then lose all.  Bou. 
You see she's resolute, you'd best compound.  W.S. 
I'll first be damned ere I will lose my right,  
Unless 'a give me up my forfeit mortgage,  
And bail me of this action.  Fra. 
Sir you may choose,  
What's the mortgage worth?  W.S. 
Let's have no whispering.  Thr. 
Some forty pounds a year.  Fra. 
Do it, do it,  
Come you shall do it, we will be rid of him  
At any rate.  Thr. 
Dash, go fetch his mortgage,  
See that your friends be bound, you shall not claim  
Title, right, possession in part or whole,  
In time to come, in this my loved wife:  
I will restore the mortgage, pay this debt,  
And set you free.  W.S. 
They shall not.  Bou. 
We will,  
Come draw the bonds, and we will soon subscribe them.  Enter Dash. Thr. 
They're ready drawn; here's his release,  
sergeants let him go.  Dash. 
Here's the mortgage sir.  W.S. 
Was ever man thus cheated of a wife:  
Is this my mortgage.  Thr. 
The very same sir.  W.S. 
Well I will subscribe, God give you joy,  
Although I have but little cause to wish it,  
My heart will scarce consent unto my hand,  
'tis done.  Thr. 
You give this as your deeds.  Omn. 
We do,  Thr. 
Certify them Dash.  W.S. 
What am I free.  Thr. 
You are, sergeant I discharge you,  
There's your fees.  Bea. 
Not so, I must have money.  Thr. 
I'll pass my word.  Bea. 
Foutrè, words are wind,  
I say I must have money.  Thr. 
How much sir.  Bea. 
Three pounds in hand, and all the rest tomorrow.  Thr. 
there's your sum, now officers begone,  
Each take his way, I must to Saint John's street,  
And see my Lady-mother: she's now in town,  
And we to her shall strait present our duties.  T.S. 
O jove shall we lose the wench thus.  W.S. 
even thus  
Throat farewell, since 'tis thy luck to have her,  
I still shall pray, you long may live together:  
Now each to his affairs.  Thr. 
Good night to all, Ex:  
Dear wife step in, Beard and Dash come hither:  
Here take this money: go borrow jewels  
Of the next Goldsmith: Beard take thou these books,  
Go both to the Brokers in Fetter lane,  
Lay them in pawn for a Velvet Jerkin  
And a double Ruff, tell him 'a shall have  
As much for loan tonight, as I do give  
Usually for a whole circuit, which done  
You two shall man her to her mothers: go, Ex.  
My fate looks big; methinks I see already,  
nineteen gold chains, seventeen great beards, and ten  
reverent bald heads, proclaim my way before me,  
My Coach shall now go prancing through Cheapside,  
And not be forced to hurry through the streets,  
For fear of sergeant: nor shall I need to try,  
Whether my well-graft tumbling foot-cloth nag,  
Be able to outrun a well-breathed Catchpole,  
I now in pomp will ride, for 'tis most fit,  
He should have state that riseth by his wit. Ex.   

Actus 4. Scaena. 1.  Sir Oliver, justice Tutchim, Taffeta, Adriana. S. Ol. 
Good meat the belly fills, good wine the brain,  
Women please men, men pleasure them again,  
Ka me, ka thee, one thing must rub another,  
English love Scots, Welshmen love each other.  I. Tu. 
You say very right sir Oliver, very right,  
I have't in my noddle i'faith, That's all the fault  
Old justices have, when they are at feasts,  
They will bib hard, they willbe fine: Sunburnt  
Sufficient, foxed, or columbered now and than,  
Now could I sit in my chair at home and nod  
A drunkard to the stocks, by virtue of,  
The last statute rarely.  Taf. 
Sir you are merry,  I. Tu. 
I am indeed.  Taf. 
Your supper sir was light.  
But I hope you think you welcome.  I. Tu. 
I do,  
A light supper quoth you, pray God it be,  
Pray god I carry it cleanly, I am sure it lies,  
As heavy in my belly as moult lead,  
Yet I'll go see my Sister Somerfield,  Si. O. 
So late good justice.  I. Tu. 
I even so late,  
Night is the mother of wit, as you may see,  
By Poets or rather constables  
In their examinations at midnight,  
we'll lie together without marrying,  
Save the curates fees, and the parish a labour,  
'tis a thriving course.  S. Ol. 
That may not be,  
For excommunications then will flee.  I. Tu. 
That's true, they fly indeed like wildgeese,  
In flocks, one in the breech of another.  
But the best is a small matter stays them,  
And so farewell.  S.O. 
Farewell good justice Tutchim, Exit.  
Alas good gentleman his brains are erased,  
But let that pass: speak widow be't a match,  
Shall we clap it up.  Adr. 
Nay if't come to clapping,  
Good night i'faith Mistress look before you,  
There's nothing more dangerous to maid or widow,  
Then sudden clappings up; nothing has spoiled,  
So many proper ladies as clappings up:  
Your shuttlecock, striding from tables to ground,  
Only to try the strength of the back,  
Your riding a hunting, I though they fall,  
With their heels upward, and lay as if  
They were taking the height, of some high star  
With a cross staff: no nor your iumlings  
In horse-litters, coaches or caroches,  
Have spoiled so many women as clappings up,  Si. Ol. 
Why then we'll chop it up.  Taf. 
That's not allowed.  
Unless you were son to a Welsh Curate:  
But faith sir Knight I have a kind of itching,  
To be a Lady, that I can tell you woes,  
And can persuade with better rhetoric,  
Than oaths, wit, wealth, valour, lands, or person,  
I have some debts at court, and marrying you,  
I hope the Courtier will not stick to pay me,  Si. Ol. 
Never fear thy payment. This I will say,  
For Courtiers they'll be sure to pay each other,  
howe'er they deal with Citizens.  Ta. 
Then here's my hand,  
I am your wife condition we be joined,  
Before to morrows sun.  Si. O. 
Nay even tonight,  
So you be pleased with little warning widow,  
We old men can be ready, and thou shalt see,  
Before the time that chanticleer,  
Shall call and tell the day is near,  
When wenches lying on their backs,  
Receive with joy their love-stolen smacks,  
When maids awaked from their first sleep,  
Deceived with dreams begin to weep,  
And think if dreams, such pleasures know,  
What sport the substance them would show,  
When Ladies 'gin white Limbs to spread,  
Her love but new stolen to her bed,  
His cotton shows yet scarce put off,  
And dears not laugh, speak, sneeze, or cough,  
When precise dames begin to think,  
Why their gross souring husbands stink,  
What pleasure 'twere then to enjoy,  
A nimble vicar, or a boy.  
Before this time thou shalt behold,  
Me quaffing out our bridal bowl.  Adr. 
Then belike before the morning Sun  
You will be coupled.  Taf. 
Yes faith Adriana,  Adr. 
Well I will look you shall have a clean smock,  
Provided that you pay the fee Sir Oliver,  
Since my Mistress sir will be a Lady,  
I'll lose no fees due to the waiting maid.  S. Ol. 
Why is there a fee belonging to it.  Adr. 
A Knight and never heard of smock fees,  
I would I had the monopoly of them,  
So there were no impost set upon them: Enter W. Sm.  S. Ol. 
Whom have we here what my mad-headed son  
What makes he here so late? say I am gone,  
And I the whilst will step behind the hangings.  W.S. 
God Bless thee parcel of man's flesh,  Ta. 
How sir.  W. 
Why parcel of man's flesh art not a woman?  
But widow where's the old stinkard my father,  
They say widow you dance altogether.  
After his pipe.  Ta. 
What then.  W.S. 
thou'rt a fool,  
I'll assure thee there's no music in it.  Ta. 
Can you play better.  W. 
Better widow?  
Blood dost think I have not learned my prick song,  
What not the court pricksong? one up and another down,  
Why I have't to a hare by this light.  
I hope thou lovest him not.  Ta. 
I'll marry him sir,  W. 
How marry him, foot art mad widow,  
wilt marry an old crazed man,  
With meager looks, with visage won,  
With little legs and crinkled thighs,  
With chap-fallen gums and deep sunk eyes,  
Why a dog seized on ten days by death  
Stinks nor so loathsome as his breath,  
Nor can a city common jaques,  
Which all men's Breeches undertakes,  
Yield fasting stomachs such a favour.  
As doth his breath, and ugly favour.  S.O. 
Rogue,  Adr. 
That's all one sir she means to be a Lady,  W. 
Does she so, and thou must be her waiting woman.  
Faith thou wilt make a fine dainty creature,  
To sit at a chamber door and look fleas,  
In thy Lady's dog while she is showing,  
Some slippery breeched Courtier rare faces,  
In a by window, foot widow,  
Marry me a young and complete gallant,  Taf. 
How a complete gallant? what? a fellow,  
With a hat tuck't up behind, and what we use,  
About our hips to keep our coats from dabbling,  
He wears about his neck, a farthingale:  
A standing collar to keep his neat band clean,  
The whilst his shirt does stink, and is more foul,  
Than an in of chancery table cloth,  
His breeches must be pleated as if a had  
Some thirty pockets, when one poor halfpenny purse,  
Will carry all his treasure, his knees all points,  
As if his legs and hams were tied together,  
A fellow that has no inside, but prates  
By rote, as players, and parrots use to do,  
And to define a complete gallant right,  
A mercer formed him, a tailor made him,  
And a player gives him sprite,  Wi. Sm. 
Why so, in my conscience to be a Countess,  
Thou wouldst marry a hedgehog: I must confess,  
'tis state to have a coxcomb kiss your hands,  
While yet the chamber-lye is scarce wiped off,  
To have an upright usher march before you,  
Bare headed in a Tuft-taffeta jerkin  
Maid of your old cast gown, shows passing well,  
But when you feel your husband's pulses, that's hell,  
Than you fly out and bid strait smocks farewell,  Taf, 
I hope sir whate'er our husbands be,  
We may be honest.  W. 
May be; nay you're,  
Women and honesty are as near allied,  
As parsons lives are to their doctrines,  
One and the same: but widow now be ruled,  
I hope the heavens will give thee better grace,  
Than to accept the father and I yet live,  
To be bestowed, if you wed the stinkard,  
You shall find the tale of Tantalus  
To be no fable widow.  Si. Ol. 
How I sweat,  
I can hold no longer, degenerate bastard,  
I here disclaim thee, cashier thee, nay more,  
I disinherit thee both of my love.  
And living, get thee a grey cloak and hat  
And walk in Paul's amongst thy cashiered mates  
As melancholy as the best:  Taf. 
Come not near me,  
I forbid the my house, my outhouses,  
My Garden, Orchard, and my backside,  
Thou shalt not harbour near me.  Sir Ol. 
Nay to thy grief,  
Know varlet I will be wed this morning,  
Thou shalt not be there, nor once be graced  
With a piece of Rosemary: I'll cashier thee,  
Do not reply, I will not stay to hear thee. Exit.  W. Sm: 
Now may I go put me on a clean shirt  
And hang myself, foot who would have thought  
The Fox had earthed so near me; what's to be done?  
What miracle shall I now undertake  
To win respective grace with God and men?  
What if I turned Courtier and lived honest?  
Sure that would do it: I dare not walk the streets,  
For I dwindle at a Sergeant in buff  
Almost as much as a new Player does  
At a plague bill certified forty:  
Well I like this widow, a lusty plump drab  
Has substance both in breech and purse,  
And pity and sin it were she should be wed  
To a furred cloak and a nightcap. I'll have her,  
This widow I will have: her money  
Shall pay my debts and set me up again,  
'tis here, 'tis almost forged, which if it take,  
The world shall praise my wit, admire my fate. Exit.  Enter Beard, Dash, Francis, sergeant, Drawers. Bea. 
sergeant beware, be sure you not mistake,  
For If you do.  Dash. 
She shall be quickly bailed:  
She shall Corpus cum causa be removed,  
Your action entered first below, shall shrink,  
And you shall find sir sergeant she has friends  
Will stick to her in the common place.  Sar. 
Sir  
Will you procure her bail:  Bea. 
She shall be bailed,  
Drawer bring up some wine, use her well,  
Her husband is a Gentleman of sort  Sa. 
A Gentleman of sort, why what care I:  
A woman of her fashion shall find  
More kindness at a lusty sergeant hand  
Then ten of your Gentlemen of sort.  Dash. 
Sir use her well, she's wife to Master Throat:  Sar. 
I'll use her sir as if she were my wife,  
Would you have any more.  Bea. 
Drink upon that  
Whilst we go fetch her bail. Dash, fellow Dash,  
With all the speed thou hast run for our Master,  
Make haste lest he be gone before thou comest,  
To Lady Somerfield's: I'll fetch another,  
She shall have bail.  Dash. 
And a firking writ  
Of false imprisonment, she shall be sure  
Of twelvepence damage, and five and twenty pound  
For suits in law: I'll go fetch my Master. Exit.  Bea. 
And I another:  Sar. 
Drawer leave the Room  
Here Mistress a health:  Fra: 
Let it come sweet Rogue.  Drawer 
ay, say you so: then must I have an eye,  
These sergeant feed on very good reversions,  
On Capons, Teals, and sometimes on a Woodcock  
Hot from the shrieves own table, the knaves feed well  
Which makes them horrid lechers.  Fra. 
This health is pledged  
And honest sergeant how does master Gripe The Drawer stands aside.  
The keeper of the Counter, I do protest  
I found him always favourable to me,  
'a is an honest man, has often stood to me,  
And been my friend and let me go a trust  
For victual when a denied it knights: but come,  
Let's pay and then begone, th'arrest you know  
Was but a trick to get from nimble Dash  
My husband's man:  Sar. 
True but I have an action  
At sure of Mistress, Sell-smock, your quandam Bawd,  
The sum is eight good pound, for six weeks board,  
And five weeks loan for a red Tafata gown  
Bound with a silver lace:  Fra. 
I do protest,  
By all the honesty twixt thee and me,  
I got her in that gown in six weeks space  
four pound and fourteen pence given by a clerk  
Of an Inn of Chancery, that night I came  
Out of her house, and does the filthy jade  
Send to me for money? but honest Sergeant,  
Let me go, and say thou didst not see me,  
I'll do thee as great a pleasure shortly.  Sar. 
Shall we embrace tonight.  Fra. 
With all my heart.  Ser. 
Sit on my knee and kiss, Enter Beard,  Bea. 
What news boy? why stand you sentinel?  Dra. 
Do but conceal yourself, and we shall catch  
My Sergeant napping.  Bea. 
Shall maids be here deflowered,  Sar. 
Now kiss again.  Draw. 
Now, now. Enter Cap. and seeing the hurly-burly, runs away.  Bea. 
Deflower virgins, rogue? avant ye slave,  
Are maids fit subjects for a sergeant mace.  
So now are we once more free: there's for the wine. Ex. Ser.  
Now to our rendezvous: three pounds in gold  
These stops contain; we'll quaff in Venice glasses,  
And swear some Lawyers are but silly Asses. Exeunt.  Enter Captain Face. Cap. 
Is the coast clear, are these combustions ceased,  
And may we drink Canary sack in peace?  
Shall we have no attendance here you rogues,  
Where be these rascals that skip up and down,  
Faster than Virginal jacks? drawers.  Dra. 
Sir.  Cap. 
On whom wait you sir rogue?  Dra. 
Faith Captain  
I attend a conventicle of Players.  Ca. 
How players, what is there ere a Cuckold among them?  Dra. 
jove defend else, it stands with policy,  
That one should be a notorious Cuckold,  
If it be but for the better keeping  
The rest of his company together.  Cap. 
When did you see sir Theophrastus' Slop,  
The City dog-master?  Dra. 
Not today sir.  Cap. 
What have you for my supper.  Dra. 
Nothing ready  
Unless you please to stay the dressing Captain,  Cap. 
zounds stay the dressing; you damned rogue,  
What shall I wait upon your greasy cook,  
And wait his leisure, go down stairs rogue,  
Now all her other customers be served,  
Ask if your Mistress have a snip of Mutton  
Yet left for me.  Dra. 
Yes sir.  Cap. 
And goodman rogue  
See what good thing your Kitchenmaid has left  
For me to work upon, my barrow-gutlings grumble  
And would have food: Say now the vintner's wife  
Should bring me up a Pheasant, Partridge, Quail,  
A pleasant banquet, and extremely love me,  
Desire me to eat, kiss, and protest,  
I should pay nothing for it, say she should drink  
herself three quarters drunk, to win my love,  
Then give me a chain, worth some three score pounds,  
Say 'twere worth but forty, say but twenty,  
For Citizens do seldom in their wooing,  
Give above twenty pounds: say then 'tis twenty,  
I'll go sell some fifteen pounds worth of the chain,  
To buy some clothes, and shift my lousy linen,  
And wear the rest as a perpetual favour,  
About my arm in fashion of a Bracelet,  
Say then her husband should grow jealous,  
I'd make him drunk, and then I'll Cuckold him,  
But then a vintner's wife, some Rogues will say,  
Which sits at Bar for the receipt of custom,  
That smells of chippings and of broken fish,  
Is love to Captain Face, which to prevent,  
I'll never come but when her best stitched hat,  
Her bugle gown and best wrought smock is on,  
Then does she neither smell of bread, of meat,  
Or droppings of the tap, it shall be so.  Enter Boutcher, W. Smallshank, and Constantia. Bou. 
Now leave us boy; bless you Captain Face.  Cap. 
I'll have no Music?  W.S. 
Foot dost take us for fiddlers  Cap. 
Then turn straight, Drawer run down the stars,  
And thank the Gods 'a gave me that great patience  
Not to strike you.  Bou. 
Your patience sir is great,  
For you dare seldom strike. Sirrah they say,  
You needs will wed the widow Taffeta,  
Nolens volens.  Cap. 
Do not urge my patience,  
Awake not fury, new raked up in embers,  
I give you leave to live.  W.S. 
Men say you'ave tricks,  
You're an admirable Ape, and you can do  
More feats than three Baboons, we must have some.  Cap. 
My patience yet is great, I say be gone,  
My tricks are dangerous.  Bou. 
That's nothing,  
I have brought you furniture, come get up  
Up upon this table, do your feats,  
Or I will whip you to them, do not I know  
You are a lousy knave.  Cap. 
How? Lousy knave,  
Are we not English bred?  Bou. 
You're a coward Rogue,  
That dares not look a Kitling in the face,  
If she but stare or mew.  Cap. 
My patience yet is great:  
Do you bandy troops, by Dis I will be Knight,  
Wear a blue coat on great Saint George's day,  
And with my fellows drive you all from Paul's  
For this attempt.  Bou. 
Will you yet gee up,  
I must lash you to it,  Cap. 
By Pluto, Gentlemen,  
To do you pleasure, and to make you sport,  
I'll do't.  W. 
Come get up then quick.  Bou. 
I'll dress you sir.  Cap. 
By jove 'tis not for fear,  
But for a love I bear unto these tricks,  
That I perform it.  Bou. 
Hold up your snout sir,  
Sit handsomely, by heaven, sir you must do it,  
Come boy.  W.S. 
No by this good light, I'll play  
Him that goes with the motions.  Dra 
where's the Cap. Gentlemen?  W.S. 
Stand back boy, and be a spectator, Gentlemen  
You shall see the strange nature of an outlandish beast,  
That has but two legs, bearded like a man,  
nosed like a Goose, and tongued like a woman,  
Lately brought from the land of Catita,  
A beast of much understanding, were it not given  
Too much to the love of Venery: do I not do it well?  Bou. 
Admirably.  W. 
Remember noble Captain,  
You skip when I shall shake my whip. Now sit,  
What can you do for the great Turk?  
What can you do for the Pope of Rome?  
Hark, he stirreth not, he moveth not, he waggeth not,  
What can you do for the town of Geneva sirrah?  He holds up his hands instead of praying. Con. 
Sure this baboon is a great Puritan.  Bou. 
Is not this strange.  W.S. 
Not a whit by this light,  
Banks his horse and he were taught both in a stable.  Dr. 
O rare.  Cap. 
zounds I'll first be damned, shall sport  
be laughed at; by Dis, by Pluto, and great Proserpine,  
My fatal blade once drawn, falls but with death,  
Yet if you'll let me go, I vow by jove,  
No widow, maid, wife, punk, or Cockatrice,  
Shall make me haunt your ghosts.  Bou. 
'Twill not serve sir,  
You must show more.  Cap. 
I'll first be hanged and damned.  W. 
Foot can a jump so well.  Bou. 
Is a so quick?  
I hope the slave will haunt no more the widow,  W.S. 
As for that take no care, for by this light  
she'll not have thee.  Bou. 
Not have me?  W.S. 
No not have thee,  
By this hand, flesh, and blood, she is resolved  
To make my father a most fearful Cuckold,  
And he's resolved to save his soul by her.  Bou. 
How by her?  W.S. 
Thus, all old men which marry  
Young wives, shall questionless be saved,  
For while theyare young, they keep other men's wives,  
And when theyare old, they keep wives for other men,  
And so by satisfaction procure salvation.  
Why thou dejected tail of a Crab,  
Does not the fair Constantia Somerfield  
Dote on thy filthy face; and wilt thou wed  
A wanton widow? what canst thou see  
To dote on her.  Bou. 
Only this, I love her.  W.S. 
Dost love her then, take a purgation,  
For love I'll assure thee is a binder:  
Of all things under heaven, there's no fitter parallels than a Drunkard and a Lover: for a drunkard loses his senses, so does your lover; your drunkard is quarrelsome, so is your lover: your drunkard will swear, lie, and speak great words, so will your lover: your drunkard is most desirous of his lechery, and so is your lover: Well the night grows old, farewell:  
I am so much thy friend, that none shall bed thee,  
While fair Constantia is resolved to wed thee. Ex.  Enter Thomas Small-shank and others. T.S. 
Foot shall we let the wench go thus,  
My masters now show yourselves Gentlemen  
And take a way the lawyers wife;  
Foot though I have no wit, yet I can,  
Love a wench and choose a wife,  Gen. 
Why sir, what should you do with a wife, that are  
held none of the wisest? you'll get none but fools.  Th. S. 
How fools, why may not I a fool get a wise child  
as well as wise men get fools: all lies but in the agility of  
the woman: in troth I think all fools are got when there  
mothers asleep; therefore I'll never lie with my wife but  
when she is brawd waking, stand to't honest friends, knock  
down the Lieutenant and then hurry the wench to Fleetstreet,  
there my father and I will this morning be married.  Enter Beard and Francis, Gen. 
Stand close they come.  Bea. 
By jove the night grows dark and Luna looks,  
As if this hour some fifty cuckolds were making,  
Then let us trudge.  Gen. 
Down with 'em, down with them, away with her  
Master Smallshanks to Fleetstreet, go the Curate there stays for you.  Bea. 
And stays the Curate.  
What's here knocked down, and blood of men let out,  
Must men in darkness bleed, than Erebus look big,  
And Boreas blow the fire of all my rage,  
Into his nose. Night thou art a whore,  
Small-shank a rogue: and is my wench took from me,  
Sure I am gulled, this was no cockatrice,  
I never saw her before this daylight peeped,  
What droppest thou head, this surely is the heir,  
And mad will Smallshanks lay in Ambuscado,  
To get her now from me, Beard: Lieutenant Beard,  
Thou art an asses what a dull slave was I,  
That all this while smelled not her honesty.  
Pate I do not pity thee: hadst thou brains,  
Lieutenant Beard had got this wealthy heir,  
From all these rogues, blood to be this o'erreached,  
In pate and wench: revenge, revenge come up,  
And with thy curled locks cling to my beard,  
Smallshanks I will betray thee: I now will trudge,  
To Saint John's street to inform the Lady Somerfield,  
Where thou art: I will prevent the match,  
Thou art to Fleetstreet gone, revenge shall follow,  
And my incensed wrath shall like great thunder,  
disperse thy hopes and thy brave wife asunder.  Enter Lady Sommerfield, and justice Tutchin. Tu. 
Say as I say widow, the wench is gone,  
But I know whether, stolen she is, well.  
I know by whom, say as I say widow,  
I have been drinking hard, why say so too,  
Old men they can be fine, with small ado,  
The law is not offended, I had no punk,  
Nor in an alehouse, have I made me drunk.  
The statute is not broke, I have the skill,  
To drink by law, then say as I say still,  La, S. 
To what extremes doth this licentious time,  
Hurry unstaid youth, nor Gods nor Laws,  
Whose penal scourges are enough to save,  
Even damned fiends, can in this looser age,  
Confine unbounded youth, who durst presume,  
To steal my youth's delight, my age's hope,  
Her father's heir, and the last noble stem,  
Of all her ancestors: fear they or Gods or laws.  I. Tu. 
I say as you say sister, but for the laws,  
There are so many that men do stand in awe,  
Of none at all; take heed they steal not you.  
Who woes a widow with a fair full Moon  
Shall surely speed, beware of full moons widow,  
Will Smallshanks has your daughter no word but mum,  
My warrant you shall have when time shall come.  La. S. 
your warrant?  I. Tu. 
I my warrant widow.  
My warrant can stretch far; no more but so,  
'twill serve to catch a knave, or fetch a do.  Enter servingmen. Ser. 
Here's a gentleman much desirous to see you madam.  La. So. 
What is a for a man.  Ser. 
Nothing for a man, but much for a beast,  
I think him lunatic for a demands,  
What plate of his is stirring i' the house,  
'a calls your men his Butlers, Cooks, and Steward,  
Kisses your woman, and makes exceeding much  
Of your Coachman's wife;  I. Tu. 
Then he's a gentleman, for 'tis a true note of a gentleman, to make much of other men's wives, bring him up, a sirrah, makes a much of your coachman's wife, this gear will run a wheels then shortly, A man may make much more of a neither man's wife, than 'a can do of's own.  L.S. 
How much brother?  I Tu. 
A man may make with ease,  
A Punk, a Child, a Bastard, a Cuckold, of another man's wife  
all at a clap.  
And that is much I think.  Seru. 
That's my Lady.  Enter Servingman and Throat. Thr. 
For that thou first hast brought me to her sight,  
I here create thee clerk o' the Kitchen, no man shall beg it from thee.  Ser. 
Sure the fellows mad.  L. S 
What would you sir? I guess your long profession,  
By your scant suit: your habit seems to turn:  
Your inside outward to me, you're I think.  
Some Turner of the law.  Thr. 
Law is my living.  
And on that ancient mould I wear this outside,  
Suit upon suit wastes some yet makes me thrive.  
First law, than gold, than love, and then we wive.  I.T. 
A man of form like me but what's your business?  La. 
Be brief good sir: what makes this bold intrusion?  Th. 
Intrude, I do not, for I know the law,  
It is the rule that squares out all our actions,  
Those actions bring in coin, coin gets me friends,  
Your son in law hath law at's fingers ends.  La. 
My son in law.  Th. 
madam your son in law,  
Mother I come, (be glad I call you so)  
To make a gentle breach into your favour,  
And win your approbation of my choice,  
Your cherry-ripe sweet daughter (so renowned,  
For beauty, virtue, and a wealthy dower)  
I have espoused.  La. 
How? you espouse my daughter?  Thr. 
Noverint universi, the laws of heaven,  
Of nature, church, and chance, have made her mine,  
Therefore deliver her by these presents.  I. Tu. 
How's this? made her yours sir? per quam regulam,  
Nay we are lettered sir, as well as you,  
Red rationem per quam regulam.  Thr. 
Femini judificantur viros:  
By that same rule these lips have taken season,  
Tut I do all by Statute law, and reason.  La. 
Hence you base knave, you pettifogging groom,  
Clad in old ends, and pieced with Brokery,  
You wed my daughter?  I.T. 
You sir Ambo-dexter,  
A summoner's son, and learned in Norfolk wiles,  
Some common bail, or Counter Lawyer,  
Marry my niece? your half sleeves shall not carry her.  Thr. 
These Storms will be dissolved in tears of joy,  
Mother I doubt it not: justice to you,  
That jerk at my half sleeves, and yet yourself  
Do never wear but buckram out of sight,  
A Flannel waistcoat, or a Canvas truss,  
A shift of thrift, I use it: let's be friends,  
You know the law hath tricks, ka me, ka thee,  
Viderit utilitas, the mott to these half arms,  
Corpus cum causa needs no bombasting.  
We wear small hair yet have we tongue and wit,  
Lawyers close breeched have bodies politic.  La. 
Speak, answer me sir jack: stole you my daughter?  Thr. 
Short tale to make, I fingered have your daughter,  
I have ta'en livery and season of the wench,  
Deliver her then, you know the Statute laws,  
she's mine without exception, bar or clause:  
Come, come, restore.  La. 
The fellow's mad I think,  Thr. 
I was not mad before I married,  
But ipso facto what the act may make me,  
That know I not.  I.T. 
Fellows come in there,  Ent. 2. or 3. Ser. 
By this sir you confess you stole my Niece,  
And I attach you here of felony:  
Lay hold on him: I'll make my Mittimus,  
And send him to the jail; have we no bar  
Nor clause to hamper you, away with him,  
Those claws shall claw you to a bar of shame,  
Where thou shalt show thy Goll, I'll bar your claim,  
If I be justice Tutchin.  Thr. 
Hands off you slaves,  
Oh! favour my jerkin, though you tear my flesh,  
I set more store by that: my Audita  
Querela shall be heard, and with a Certiorare  
I'll fetch her from you with a pox. Enter Beard.  Bea. 
What's here to do? is all the world in arms?  
More tumults, brawls, and insurrections,  
Is blood the Theme whereon our time must treat.  Thr. 
here's Beard your Butler: a rescue Beard; draw,  Bea. 
Draw? not so: my blade's as ominously drawn  
Unto the death of nine or ten such grooms,  
As is a knife unsheathed with the hungry maw,  
Threatening the ruin of a chine of Beef:  
But for the restless toil it took of late,  
My blade shall sleep awhile.  Th. 
Help.  Be. 
Stop thee Throat  
And hear me speak, whose bloody Characters,  
Will show I have been scuffling: briefly thus,  
Thy wife, your daughter, and your lovely Niece,  
Is hurried now to Fleetstreet, the damned crew  
With glaives and clubs have rapt her from these arms,  
Throat thou art bobbed, although thou boughtest the heir,  
Yet hath the slave made a re-entry.  I. Tu. 
Sirrah what are you?  Th. 
My Lady's Butler sir.  Bea. 
Not I by heaven.  Thr. 
By this good light he swore it,  
And for your daughter's love he ran away.  Bea. 
By love I gulled thee Throat.  I.T. 
More knavery yet,  
Lay hands on him, pinion them both,  
And guard them hence towards Fleetstreet, come away,  Bea. 
Must we be led like thieves, and pinioned walk,  
Spent I my blood for this? is this my hire?  
Why then burn rage, set Beard and nose on fire.  I.T. 
On, on I say.  Thr. 
justice, the law shall firk you.   

Actus Quinti. Scaena 1.  Enter William Small-shank. W.S. 
On this one hour depends my hopes and fortunes,  
Foot I must have this widow: what should my Dad  
Make with a wife, that scarce can wipe his nose,  
Untruss his points, or hold a Chamber-pot,  
Steady till 'a pisses: The doors are fast,  
'Tis now the midst of night; yet shall this chain,  
Procure access and conference with the widow:  
What though I cheat my father, all men have sins,  
Though in their several kinds, all ends in this,  
So they get gold, they care not whose it is.  
Begging the Court, use bears the City out,  
Lawyers their quirks, thus goes the world about,  
So that our villainies have but different shapes,  
Th'effects all one, and poor men are but Apes,  
To imitate their betters, this is the difference,  
All great men's sins must still be humoured,  
And poor men's vices largely punished,  
The privilege that great men have in evil,  
Is this, they go unpunished to the Devil  
Therefore I'll in, this chain I know will move,  
Gold and rich stones, wins coyest lady's love. Knocks.  Adr. 
What would you sir, that you do knock so boldly.  W. 
I must come in to the widow.  Adr. 
How come in,  
The widow has no entrance for such mates.  W. 
Dost here sweet Chambermaid, by heaven I come,  
With letters from my father, I have brought her stones,  
jewels and chains, which she must use tomorrow.  Adr. 
You're a needy knave, and will lie:  
Your father has cashiered you, nor will a trust you,  
begone, lest I do wash you hence.  W. 
Dost here,  
By this good night, my Father and I are friends,  
Take but this chain for token, give her that,  
And tell her I have other things for her,  
Which by my father's will I am commanded  
To give to her own hands.  Adr. 
Say you so,  
Introth I think you'll prove an honest man,  
Had you once got a beard: let me see the chain,  W. S, 
Dost think I lie? by this good light Adrian  
I love her with my soul, here's letters  
And other jewels sent her from my father,  
Is she a-bed.  Adr. 
By my virginity,  
She is uncast, and ready to slip in,  
Betwixt the sheets, but I will bear her this,  
And tell her what you say.  W.S. 
But make some haste,  
Why so 'twill take, 'sheart how a waiting maid,  
Can shake a fellow up that is cashiered,  
And has no money: foot should she keep the chain,  
And not come down, I must turn Citizen,  
Be bankrupt, and crave the king's protection  
But here she comes.  Taf. 
What would you sir with us,  
That on the sudden, and so late you come.  W.S. 
I have some secrets to acquaint you with,  
Please you to let the chamber maid shake off,  
And stand as sentinel.  Taf. 
It shall not need,  
I hope I have not brought her up so ill,  
But that she knows how to contain your secrets,  
As well as I her Mistress: Therefore on.  W. 
It is not fit forsooth that I should on,  
Before she leave the room.  Adr. 
'tis not indeed.  
Therefore I'll wait in the withdrawing room  
Until you call.  Taf. 
Now sir, what's your will?  W. S, 
Dear widow, pity the state of a young,  
Poor, yet proper Gentleman, by Venus' pap  
Upon my knees I'd creep unto your lap  
For one small drop of favour, and though this face  
Is not the finest face, yet t'as been praised  
By Ladies of good judgement in faces.  Taf. 
Are these your secrets?  W.S. 
You shall have secrets  
More pleasing, nay here sweet widow,  
Some wantons do delight to see men creep,  
And on their knees to woe them.  Taf. 
I am none of those,  
Stand up, I more desire a man should stand,  
Then cringe and creep that means to win my love,  
I say stand up, and let me go ye'd best.  W.S. 
For ever let me creep upon the ground,  
Unless you here my suit.  Taf. 
How now sir sauce,  
Would you be capering in your father's saddle,  
Away you cashiered younger brother, begone,  
Do not I know the fashions of you all,  
When a poor woman has laid open all  
Her thoughts to you, than you grow proud and coy,  
But when wise maids dissemble and keep close,  
Than you poor snakes come creeping on your bellies,  
And with all oiled looks prostrate yourselves,  
Before our beauty's sun, where once but warm,  
Like hateful snakes you strike us with your stings,  
And then forsake us, I know your tricks begone.  W.S. 
Foot I'll first be hanged, nay if you go  
You shall leave your smock behind you widow,  
Keep close your womanish weapon, hold your tongue,  
Nor speak, cough, sneeze or stamp, for if you do,  
By this good blade I'll cut your throat directly,  
Peace, stir not, by Heaven I'll cut your throat  
If you but stir: speak not, stand still, go to,  
I'll teach coy widows a new way to woe,  
Come you shall kiss, why so, I'll stab by Heaven  
If you but stir, now here, first kiss again,  
Why so, stir not, Now come I to the point,  
My hopes are past, nor can my present state,  
Afford a single halfpenny, my father  
Hates me deadly; to beg, my birth forbids,  
To steal, the law, the hangman, and the Rope  
With one consent deny; to go a trust,  
The City common-council has forbade it,  
Therefore my state is desperate, stir not,  
And I by much will rather choose to hang,  
Then in a ditch or prison-hole to starve,  
Resolve, wed me, and take me to your bed,  
Or by my soul I'll strait cut off your head,  
Then kill myself, for I had rather die,  
Then in a street live poor and lousily:  
Do not I know you cannot love my father.  
A widow that has known the quid of things,  
To dote upon an old and crazed man,  
That stinks at both ends, worse than an elder pipe,  
Who when his blood and spirit are at the height,  
Hath not a member to his palsy body,  
But is more limber than a king's head pudding,  
Took from the pot half sod do I not know this?  
Have you not wealth enough, to serve us both?  
And am not I a pretty handsome fellow,  
To do your drudgery, come, come, resolve.  
For by my blood, if you deny your bed,  
I'll cut your throat, without equivocation,  
If you be pleased hold up your finger, if not  
By heaven I'll gar my whinyard through your womb,  
be't a match.  Taf. 
hear me but speak.  W.S. 
You'll prate too loud.  Ta. 
No.  W.S. 
Nor speak one word against my honest suit.  Ta. 
No by my worth  W.S. 
Kiss upon that and speak,  Ta. 
I dare not wed, men say you're nought you'll cheat▪  
And you do keep a whore.  WS. 
That is a lie,  
She keeps herself and me, yet I protest,  
she's not dishonest.  Ta. 
How could she then maintain you,  W.S. 
Why by her comings in, a little thing,  
Her friends have left her which with putting to best use.  
And often turning yields her a poor living,  
But what of that; she's now shook off, to thee  
I'll only cleave, I'll be thy merchant.  
And to this wealthy fair, I'll bring my ware,  
And here set up my standing: therefore resolve,  
Nought but my sword is left if't be a match,  
Clap hands, contract and strait to bed,  
If not, pray, forgive and straight goes off your head.  Ta. 
I take thy love.  W.S. 
Then strait let's both to bed.  Ta. 
I'll wed tomorrow.  W.S. 
You shall not sleep upon't.  
An honest contract is as good as marriage.  
A bird in hand you know the proverb widow,  Ta. 
To let me tell thee, I'll love thee while I live,  
For this attempt give me that lusty lad,  
That wins his widow with his well drawn blade,  
And not with oaths and words: a widow's wooing,  
Not in bare words but should consist in doing,  
I take thee to my husband.  W.S. 
I thee to wife,  
Now to thy bed and there we'll end this strife.  Enter Sir Oliver and Fiddlers. S.O. 
Warm blood the young man's slave, the old man's God  
Makes me so stir thus soon, it stirs i'faith,  
And with a kind of Itching pricks me on,  
To bid my bride boun jour, O this desire,  
Is even another filched promethian fire,  
By which we old men live, performance then,  
I that's poor old men's bane, that in old men,  
Comes limping off more lame God knows then he,  
Which in a close, a hot and dangerous fight,  
Has been dismembered and craves by letter patents,  
Yet scarce a woman that considers this,  
Women have tricks firks and farthingales,  
A generation are they full of subtlety,  
And all most honest where they want the means.  
To be otherwise. Therefore I'll have an eye  
My widow goes not oft to visit kinsfolks,  
By birth she is a Ninny, and that I know,  
Is not in London held the smallest kindred,  
I must have wits and brains, come on my friends,  
Out with your tools, and to't, a strain of mirth.  
And a pleasant song to wake the widow.  Enter W.S. above in his shirt. W.S. 
Musicians, minstrels, foot rogues,  
For God's love leave your filthy squeaking noise  
And get you gone, the widow and myself,  
Will scamble out the shaking of the sheets,  
Without your music, we have no need of fiddlers,  
To our dancing, foot have you no manners,  
Cannot a man take his natural rest.  
For your scraping, I shall wash your gut-strings.  
If you but stay a while; yet honest rascals,  
If you'll let us have the other crash  
The widow and I'll keep time, there's for your pains,  S.O. 
How's this? will the widow and you keep time,  
What trick? what quiddit? what figare is this?  
My cashiered Son speak from the widows chamber,  
And in his shirt ha, sure she is not there,  
'tis so she has took him in for pity,  
And now removes her chamber I will home,  
On with my neatest robes, perfume my beard,  
Eat cloves, Eringoes and drink some aquavita.  
To sweeten breath and keep my weame from wambling.  
Then like the month of March, come blustering in,  
Marry the widow shake up this springal,  
And then as quiet as a sucking lamb,  
Close by the widow will I rest all night,  
As for my breath I have crotchets and devices,  
ladies' rank breaths are often helped with spices.  Enter Adriana, and another strawing herbs. Adr. 
Come straw apace, Lord shall I never live,  
To walk to Church on flowers. O 'tis fine,  
To see a bride trip it to Church so lightly,  
As if her new chopines would scorn to bruise  
A silly flower: and now I prithee tell me,  
What flower thinkest thou is likest to a woman?  Vi. 
A marigold I think.  Adr. 
Why a marry gold:  Vi. 
Because a little heat makes it to spread,  
And open wide his leaves.  Adr. 
Thart quite wide,  
A marigold doth open wide all day,  
And shuts most close at night; I hope thou know'st,  
All wenches do the contrary: but sirrah,  
How does thy Uncle the old Doctor,  
Dost think he'll be a Bishop?  Vi. 
O questionless,  
For has got him a young wife, and carried her,  
To Court already: but now I prithee say,  
Why will the widow wed so old a knight,  Adr. 
Why for his riches.  Vi. 
For riches only,  
Why riches cannot give her her delight,  Adr. 
Riches I hope can soon procure her one  
Shall give her her delight that's the Devil,  
That's it i'faith makes us waiting gentlewomen  
Live maids so long.  Vi. 
Think you so.  Adr. 
Yes in faith,  
Married women quite have spoiled the market,  
By having secret friends besides their husbands,  
For if these married wives would be content  
To have but one a piece I think in troth,  
There would be doings enough for us all,  
And till we get an act of parliament,  
For that our states are desperate.  Enter Boucher and Constan. 
Come straw a piece.  Con. 
So ho ho, Master.  Bou. 
Boy,  Con. 
Introth I thought you'd been more fast asleep,  
Than a midwife or a Puritan tailor,  
At a Sunday evenings Lecture, but sir  
Why do you rise so soon?  Bou. 
To see the widow,  Con. 
The weaker you, you are forbid a widow,  
And 'tis the first thing you will fall into.  
methinks a young clear skinned country Gentlewoman,  
That never saw Baboons, lions, or Courtiers,  
Might prove a handsome wife, or what do you say  
To a citizen's daughter, that never was in love  
With a Player, that never learned to dance,  
That never dwelled near any Inn a Court,  
Might not she in time prove an honest wife?  
Faith take a maid, and leave the widow, Master  
Of all meats I love not a gaping Oyster,  Bou, 
God speed your works fair maids.  Ad. 
You much mistake,  
'tis no work.  Bou. 
What then.  Adr. 
A preparation  
To a work sir.  Bou. 
What work sweet Ladies?  Adr. 
Why to a marriage? that's a work I think,  Bou. 
How? a preparation to a marriage,  
Of whom kind maids, of whom?  Adr. 
And why kind maids?  
I hope you have had no kindness at our hand,  
To make you say so: but sir understand,  
That Sir Oliver Small-shank the noble Knight,  
And mistress Tafata the rich widow,  
Must this day be coupled, conjoined,  
Married, espoused, wedded, contracted,  
Or as the Puritan says, put together,  
And so sir, to the shifting of our clean smocks,  
we leave you.  Bou. 
Married, and today,  
Dissension, jealousy, hate, beggary,  
With all the dire events which breed dislike  
In nuptial beds, attend her bridal steps,  
Can vows and oaths, with such protesting action,  
As if their hearts were spit forth with their words,  
As if their souls were darted through their eyes,  
Be of no more validity with women?  
Have I for her contemned my fixed fate.  
Neglected my fair hopes, and scorned the love  
Of beauteous, virtuous, and honoured Constantia.  Con. 
Now works it with my wish: my hopes are full.  Bou. 
And I engaged my worth and ventured life  
On yonder buffoon face, to have men scorn,  
And point at my disgrace: first will I leave to live:  
There take my purse, live thou to better fate. Bouch. hangs himself.  
Better thus die, then live unfortunate.  Con. 
ay me accursed: help, help, murder murder,  
Cursed be the day and hour that gave me breath,  
Murder, murder: if any Gentleman  
Can hear my plaints, come forth and assist me.  W. 
What outcries call me from my naked bed,  
Who calls jeronimo, speak here I am.  Con. 
Good sir leave your struggling and acting,  
And help to save the life of a distressed man,  
O help if you be Gentlemen!  W. 
What's here?  
A man hanged up and all the murderers gone?  
And at my door to lay the guilt on me.  
This place was made to pleasure citizens wives, Enter Tafata.  
And not to hang up honest Gentlemen  Taf. 
Where be these lazy knaves? some raise the house,  
What meant the cry of murder? where's my love?  W. 
Come Isabella, help me to lament,  
For sighs are stopped, and all my tears are spent.  
These clothes I oft have seen, ay me my friend:  
Pursue the murderers, raise all the street  Con. 
It shall not need, 'a stirs, give him breath.  W. 
Is there yet life, Horatio my dear boy,  
Horatio! Horatio, what hast thou misdone,  
To lose thy life when life was new begun?  Bou. 
'sheart a man had as good be hanged outright,  
As to endure this clapping: shame to thy sex,  
Perfidious perjured woman, where's thy shame?  
How can thy modesty forbear to blush,  
And know'st I know thee an adulteress?  
Have not thy vows made thee my lawful wife  
Before the face of heaven? where is thy shame?  
But why speak I of shame to thee, whose face,  
Is steeled with customed sin, whose thoughts want grace:  
The custom of thy sin so lulls thy sense:  
Women near blush, though near so foul th'offence,  
To break thy vow to me and straight to wed,  
A doting stinkard.  W. Sm. 
But hold your tongue,  
Or by this light I'll truss you up again,  
'sheart rail on my wife, am I a stinkard,  
Or do I dote? speak such another word,  
And up you truss again, am I a stinkard?  Bou, 
The knight your father is:  W. 
Why who denies it.  
He suppliants thee and I supplanted him.  
Come come, you shall be friends come forgive her:  
For by this light there is no remedy,  
Unless you will betake you to my leavings.  Con, 
Rather than so I'll help you to a wife:  
rich, well borne, and by some accounted fair,  
And for the worth of her Virginity,  
I dare presume to pawn my honesty:  
What say you to Constantia Somerfield?  W. 
Dost know where she is boy?  Con. 
I do, nay more,  
If he but swear to embrace her constant love,  
I'll fetch her to this place.  W. 
A shall do it boy,  Enter Sir Oliver and Fiddlers. 
A shall do it, go fetch her boy, foot my father,  
Stand to't now old wench, stand to't now.  S. Ol. 
Now fresh and youthful as the month of May,  
I'll bid my Bride good morrow, Musicians on,  
Lightly, lightly, and by my knighthood's spur,  
This year you shall have my protection,  
And yet not buy your livery coats yourselves:  
God morrow Bride, fresh, fresh, as the month of May,  
I come to kiss thee on thy wedding day.  W. 
Saving your tale sir, I'll show you how,  
April showers spring May flowers,  
So merrily sings the cuckoo:  
The truth is, I have laid my knife aboard,  
The widow sir is wedded.  S. Ol. 
Ha,  W. 
Bedded.  S. Ol. 
ha:  W. 
Why my good father what should you do with a wife?  
Would you be crested? will you needs thrust your head  
In on of Vulcan's Helmets? will you perforce  
Wear a City cap and a Court feather?  S. Ol. 
Villain, slave, thou hast wronged my wife.  W. S 
not so,  
Speak my good wench, have I not done thee right.  Taf. 
I find no fault, and I protest Sir Oliver.  
I'd not have lost the last two hours sleep,  
I had by him, for all the wealth you have.  S. Ol. 
Villain slave, I'll hang thee by the statute,  
Thou hast two wives.  W.S. 
Be not so furious sir,  
I have but this, the other was my whore,  
Which now is married to an honest Lawyer.  S. Ol. 
Thou villain slave thou hast abused thy father.  Bou. 
Your son i'faith, your very son i'faith,  
The villain boy has one trick of his sire,  
Has firked away the wench, has pierced the hogshead,  
And knows by this the vintage.  S. Ol. 
I am undone.  Bou. 
You could not love the widow but her wealth.  S. Ol. 
The devil take my soul but I did love her.  Taf, 
That oath doth show you are a Northern Knight,  
And of all men alive, I'll never trust,  
A Northern man in love.  S. Ol. 
And why? and why slut.  Taf. 
Because the first word he speaks is the Devil  
Take his soul, and who will give him trust,  
That once has given his soul unto the Devil.  W.S. 
she says most true father, the soul once gone,  
The best part of a man is gone.  Taf. 
And i'faith  
If the best part of a man be once gone,  
The rest of the body is not worth a rush,  
Though it be near so handsome.  Enter La, Somerfield, Throat & Beard bound, & Iu. touch. La. S. 
Bring them away.  W. 
How now?  
My Lawyer pinioned I begin to stink  
Already.  La. S. 
Cheater my daughter.  W.S. 
she's mad.  Thr. 
My wife sir, my wife.  W.S. 
They're mad, stark mad,  
I am sorry sir you have lost those happy wits  
By which you lived so well. The air grows cold,  
Therefore I'll take my leave.  La. So. 
Stay him officers,  
Sir 'tis not your tricks of wit can carry it.  
Officers attach him, and this Gentleman,  
For stealing away my heir.  W.S. 
You do me wrong,  
'sheart I never saw your heir.  Thr. 
That's a lie,  
You stole her, and by chance I married her.  W, S. 
God give you joy sir.  Thr. 
Ask the Butler else,  
Therefore widow release me, for by no law,  
Statute or book case, of Vicesimo  
Edwardi Secundi, nor by the Statute  
Of Tricesimo Henrici sexti,  
Nor by any book case of decimo  
Of the late Queen, am I accessary,  
Part, or party confederate, a better,  
Helper, seconder, persuader, forwarder,  
Principal or maintainer of this late theft:  
But by law, I forward, and she willing,  
Clapped up the match, and by a good Statute  
Of Decimo tertio Richardi quarti,  
She is my leeful lawful, and my true  
Married wife, testae lieutenant Beard.  W. 
Who lives would think that you could prate so fast,  
Your hands being bound behind you, foot 'a talks  
With as much ease as if 'a were in's shirt.  S. Ol. 
I am witness thou hadst the heir.  I. Tu. 
So am I.  Thr. 
And so is my man Dash.  Bou. 
hear me but speak,  
Sit you as judges, undo the lawyer's hands,  
That 'a may freely act, and I'll be bound  
That William Small-shank shall put your Throat to silence,  
And overthrow him at his own weapon.  I. Tu. 
Agreed, take each his place, and here the case  
Argued betwixt them two.  Om. 
Agreed, agreed.  I. Tu. 
Now Throat or never, stretch yourself.  Thr. 
Fear not  W.S. 
Here stand I for my client, this Gentleman.  Thr. 
I for the widow.  W. 
Begin.  Thr. 
Right worshipful  
I say that William Small-shank madman,  
Is by a Statute made in Octavo  
Of Richard Cordelion guilty to the law  
Of felony, for stealing this lady's heir,  
That 'a stole her, the proof is most pregnant,  
He brought her to my house, confessed himself,  
'a made great means to steal her, I liked her,  
(And finding him a novice) truth to tell,  
Married her myself, and as I said,  
By a Statute Richardi Quarti,  
She is my lawful wife.  W.S. 
For my client,  
I say the wench brought unto your house,  
Since all our friends so happily are met,  
Here will I choose a husband: this be the man,  
Whom since I left your house in shape of Page,  
I still have followed.  W. S 
Foot would I had known so much,  
I would have been bold to have lain with your page.  Con. 
Say am I welcome.  Bou. 
As is my life and soul,  La. S. 
Heaven give you joy,  
Since all so well succeeds, take my consent,  W.S. 
Then are we all paired, I and my lass,  
You and your wife, the lawyer and his wench,  
And father fall you aboard of the widow,  
But then my brother.  T.S. 
Faith I am a fool.  W.S. 
That's all one; If God had not made  
Some elder brother's fools, how should witty  
Younger brothers be maintained,  
Strike up Music, let's have an old song,  
Since all my tricks have found so good success,  
we'll sing, dance, dice, and drink down heaviness.  
FINIS.   

Epilogus.  
THus two hours have brought to end,  
What many tedious hours have penned,  
'a dares not glory nor distrust,  
But he (as other writers must)  
Submits the censures of his pains  
To those whose wit and nimble brains,  
Are able best to judge: and as for some,  
Who filled with malice, hither come  
To belch their poison on his labour,  
Of them he doth entreat no favour,  
But bids them hang, or soon amend,  
For worth shall still itself defend,  
And for ourselves we do desire,  
You'll breathe on us that growing fire,  
By which in time we may attain,  
Like favours which some others' gain:  
For be assured our loves shall tend,  
To equal theirs, if not transcend.  
FINIS.