THE city MATCH.  
A comedy.  
PRESENTED TO THE KING and queen AT Whitehall.  
ACTED SINCE AT Blackfriars BY HIS Majesty's Servants.  HORAT. de Arte Poet. 
Versibus exponi Tragicis res Comica non vult.  
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, Printer to the UNIVERSITY.  
Anno Dom. MDCXXXIX.   

TO THE READER  
THe Author of this Poem, knowing how hardly the best things protect themselves from censure, had no ambition to make it this way public. Holding works of this light nature to be things which need an Apology for being written at all. Nor esteeming otherwise of them, whose abilities in this kind are most passable, then of Masquers, who spangle, & glitter for the time, but 'tis through tinsel. As it was merely out of Obedience that he first wrote it, so when it was made, had it not been commanded from him, it had died upon the place, where it took life. Himself being so averse from raising fame from the stage, that at the presentment, he was one of the severest spectators there; nor ever showed other sign whereby it might be known to be his, but his liberty to despise it. Yet he hath at length consented it should pass the Press; not with an Aim to purchase a new Reputation, but to keep that which he hath already from growing worse. For understanding that some at London, without his Approbation or allowance, were ready to print a false, imperfect Copy, he was loath to be libelled by his own work; or that his Play should appear to the world with more than its own faults. Farewell.   

THE prologue TO THE KING AND queen.  
THE Author, Royal Sir, so dreads this Night,  
As if for writing he were doomed to th'sight.  
Or else, unless you do protect his fame,  
Y' had saved his Play, and sentenced him to th' flame.  
For though your name, or power, were i'th' reprieve,  
Such works, he thinks, are but condemned to live.  
Which, for this place being rescued from the fire,  
Take ruin from th'advancement, and fall higher.  
Though None, he hopes, sit here upon his wit,  
As if he Poems did, or Plays commit.  
Yet he must needs fear censure, that fears praise,  
Nor would write still were't to succeed i'th' bays.  
For he is not o'th' trade, nor would excel  
In this kind, where 'tis lightness to do well.  
Yet as the God's refined base things, and some  
Beasts foul i'th' Herd grew pure i'th' Hecatomb;  
And as the Ox prepared, and crowned Bull  
Are Offerings, though kept back, and Altars full:  
So, Mighty Sir, this sacrifice being near  
The Knife at Oxford, which y' have kindled here,  
He hopes 'twill from you, and the Queen, grow clean,  
And turn t' Oblation, what He meant a Scene.   

THE prologue AT Blackfriars.  
WEre it his trade, the Author bid me say,  
Perchance he'd beg you would be good to th' Play.  
And I, to set him up in Reputation,  
Should hold a Basin forth for Approbation.  
But praise so gained, He thinks, were a Relief  
Able to make his Comedy a Brief.  
For where your pity must your judgement be,  
'tis not a Play, but you fired houses see.  
Look not his quill, then, should petitions run;  
No gather's here into a Prologue spun.  
Whither their sold Scenes be disliked, or hit,  
Are cares for them who eat by th' stage, and wit.  
He's One, whose unbought Muse did never fear  
An Empty second day, or a thin share;  
But can make th' Actors, though you come not twice,  
No Losers', since we act now at the king's price.  
Who hath made this Play public, and the same  
Power that makes Laws, redeemed this from the flame.  
For th' Author builds no fame, nor doth aspire  
To praise, from that which he condemned to th' fire.  
He's thus secure, then, that he cannot win  
A Censure sharper than his own hath been.   

The Persons of the Play.  
Warehouse. 
An old Merchant.  Frank Plotwell. 
His Nephew.  cipher. 
His Factor.  Baneswright. 
Old Plotwell disguised.  Madam Aurelia. 
Penelope Plotwell his daughter.  Seathrift. 
A Merchant.  Ms. Seathrift. 
His Wife.  Timothy. 
His Son.  Dorcas. 
Susan Seathrift his daughter.  Bright. 
Two Templars.  Newcut. 
Two Templars  Ms. Scruple. 
A Puritan Schoolmistress  Mrs. Holland. 
A Seamster on the Exchange.  Quartfield. 
A Captain.  Salewit. 
A Poet.  Roseclappe. 
One that keeps an Ordinary.  Mill. 
His wife.  Prentice. 
 Two Footmen. 
 Boy that sings. 
  
The SCENE LONDON.   

ACTVS I.  

SCENA I.  Warehouse. Seathrift. 
I Promise you 'twill be a most rare plot.  Ware-h. 
The City, Mr Seathrift, never yet  
Brought forth the like; I would have them that have  
Fined twice for Sheriff mend it.  Seath. 
Mend it? Why  
'tis past the wit o'th' Court of Aldermen.  
Next Merchant tailor that writes Chronicles  
Will put us in.  Ware-h. 
For, since I took him home,  
Though, Sir, my Nephew, as you may observe,  
Seem quite transfigured, be as dutiful  
As a new prentice; in his talk declaim  
'gainst revelling Companions, be as hard  
To be enticed from home as my door posts;  
This reformation may but be his part,  
And he may act his virtues. I have not  
Forgot his riots at the Temple. You know Sir—  Seath. 
You told me Mr Warehouse.  Ware-h. 
Not the sea  
When it devoured my ships cost me so much  
As did his vanities. A voyage to th' Indyes  
Has been lost in a night. His daily suits  
Were worth more than the stock that set me up.  
For which he knew none but the silkman's book,  
And studied that more than the Law. He had  
His Loves too, and his Mistresses; was entered  
Among the philosophical Madams, was  
As great with them as their Concerners, and I hear  
Kept one of them in pension.  Seath. 
My son too  
Hath had his Errors; I could tell the time  
When all the wine which I put off by whole sale  
He took again in quarts, and at the day  
Vintners have paid me with his large scores. But  
He is reformed too.  Ware-h. 
Sir, we now are friends  
In a design.  Seath. 
And hope to be in time  
Friends in Alliance, Sir.  Ware-h. 
I'll be free,  
I think well of your son.  Seath. 
Who, Timothy?  
believe't a virtuous boy, and for his sister  
A very Saint.  Ware-h. 
Mistake me not, I have  
The like opinion of my Nephew, Sir,  
Yet he is young, and so is your son, nor  
Doth the Church-book say they are past our fears.  
Our presence is their bridle now: 'tis good  
To know them well whom we do make our Heirs.  Seath. 
It is most true.  Ware-h. 
Well, and how shall we know  
How They will use their fortune, or what place  
We have in their affection without trial?  
Some wise men build their own Tombs, let us try  
If we were dead whether our Heirs would cry,  
Or their long cloaks: this plot will do't.  Seath. 
'twill make us  
Famous upon the Exchange for ever. I'll home  
And take leave of my wife and son.  Ware-h. 
And I'll  
Come to you at your Garden house within there. Ex. Seath.  Enter cipher.  

SCENA II.  Warehouse. cipher. 
NOw cipher, where's my Nephew?  Cyph. 
In the Hall  
Reading a letter which a footman brought  
Just now to him from a Lady Sir.  Ware-h. 
A Lady?  Cyph. 
Yes, Sir, a Lady in distress; for I  
Could overhear the fellow say she must  
Sell her Coach Horses, and return again  
To her Needle, if your Nephew not supply her  
With money.  Ware-h. 
This is some honourable seamstress.  
I'm now confirmed: They say he keeps a Lady,  
And this is she. well cipher, 'tis too late  
To change my project now. Be sure you keep  
A Diary of his Actions, strictly mark  
What company comes to him, if he stir  
Out of my house observe the place he enters.  
Watch him till he come out: follow him disguised  
To all his haunts.  Cyph. 
He shall not want a spy Sir.  
But Sir when you are absent if he draw not  
A Lattice to your door, and hang a bush out—  Ware-h. 
I hope he will not make my house a Tavern.  Cyph. 
Sir I'm no sibyl's son.  Ware-h. 
Peace here he comes. Enter Plotwell in a sad posture.   

SCENA III.  Warehouse. Plotwell. cipher. 
Good morrow Nephew: how now? sad? how comes  
This melancholy?  Plotw. 
Can I choose but wear  
Clouds in my face when I must venture, Sir,  
Your reverend age to a long doubtful voyage  
And not partake your dangers?  Ware-h. 
Fie, these fears  
Though they become you, Nephew, are ominous.  
When heard you from your Father?  Plotw: 
Never since  
He made the escape Sir.  Ware-h. 
I hear he is in Ireland:  
is't true he took your sister with him?  Plotw. 
So  
Her Mistress thinks, Sir, one day she left the Exchange,  
And has not since been heard of.  Ware-h. 
And Nephew  
How like you your new course? which place prefer you  
The Temple or Exchange? where are, think you,  
The wealthier Mines in the Indies, or  
Westminster Hall?  Plotw. 
Sir my desires take measure  
And form from yours.  Ware-h. 
Nay tell me your mind plainly,  
Ith' City tongue. I'd have you speak like cipher.  
I do not like quaint figures, they do smell  
Too much o'th' Inns of Court.  Plotw. 
Sir, my obedience  
Is ready for all impressions which—  Ware-h. 
Again?  Plotw. 
Sir I prefer your kind of life, a Merchant  Ware-h. 
'tis spoken like my Nephew: Now I like you.  
Nor shall I ere repent the benefits  
I have bestowed, but will forget all Errors, Exit Cyph.  
As mere seducements: And will not only be  
An Uncle but a Father to you: But then  
You must be constant, Nephew.  Plotw. 
Else I were blind  
To my good fortune, Sir.  Ware-h. 
Think man how it may  
In time make thee o'th' City Senate, and raise thee  
To th' sword and Cap of Maintenance.  (Plotw. 
Yes, & make me  
Sentence light bread, and pounds of butter on horseback.)  Ware-h. 
Have Gates and Conduits dated from thy year;  
Ride to the Spittle on thy free beast.  (Plotw. 
Yes,  
Free of your Company.)  Ware-h. 
Have the people veil  
As low to his trappings as if he thrice had fined  
For that good Time's employment.  (Plotw. 
Or as if  
He had his rider's wisdom.)  Ware-h. 
Then the works  
And good deeds of the City to go before Thee,  
Besides a troop of Varlets.  (Plotw. 
Yes, and I  
To sleep the sermon in my Chain and Scarlet.  Ware-h. 
How say you? let's hear that.  Plotw. 
I say, Sir, I  
To sit at sermon in my chain and scarlet.  Ware-h. 
'tis right, and be remembered at the Cross.  Plotw. 
And then at Sessions, Sir, and all times else,  
Master Recorder to save me the trouble,  
And understand things for me.  Ware-h. 
All this is possible,  
And in the stars and winds: therefore dear Nephew,  
You shall pursue this course, and to enable you  
In this half year that I shall be away,  
cipher shall teach you French, Italian, Spanish,  
And other Tongues of Traffic  Plotw. 
Shall I not learn  
Arithmetic too, Sir, and shorthand?  Ware-h. 
'tis well  
Remembered, yes, and Navigation. Enter cipher.  Cyph. 
Sir, Mr Seathrift says you will lose the tide,  
The boat stays for you.  Ware-h. 
Well, Nephew, at my return  
As I hear of your carriage, you do know  
What my intentions are; and for a Token  
How much I trust your reformation,  
Take this key of my Countinghouse, and spend  
Discreetly in my absence. Farewell. Nay  
No tears; I'll be here sooner than you think on't  
cipher you know what you have to do.  Cyph. 
I warrant you, Sr.  Plotw. 
Tears? yes my melting eyes shall run, but it Exit  
Shall be such tears as shall increase the tide  
To carry you from hence.  Cyph. 
Come Mr Plotwell shall I  
Read to you this morning.  Plotw. 
Read what? how the price.  
Of sugar goes, how many pints of Olives  
Go to a jar, how long wine works at sea,  
What difference is in gain between fresh herrings  
And herrings red?  Cyph. 
This is fine, ha' you  
Forgot your Uncle's charge?  Plotw. 
Prithee what was't?  Cyph. 
To learn the Tongues & Mathematics.  Pl. 
Troth  
If I have tongue enough to say my prayers  
Ith' phrase o'th' Kingdom I care not; otherwise  
I'm for no tongues but dried ones, such as will  
Give a fine relish to my bacharach; and for Mathematics,  
I hate to travail by the Map, methinks Enter Bright & Newcut.  
'tis riding post.  Cyph. 
I knew 'twould come to this.  
Here be his Comrades.  Plotw. 
What my Fleetstreet friends?  Exit cipher.  

SCENA IV.  To Him Bright and Newcut. Br. 
SAve you Merchant Plotwell.  Newc. 
Mr Plotwell  
Citizen and Merchant, save you.  Br. 
Is thy Uncle  
Gone the wished voyage?  Plotw. 
Yes, he's gone, and if  
He die by th' way hath bequeathed me but some  
Twelve hundred pound a year in Kent, some three-  
Score thousand pound in money, besides Jewels, Bonds,  
And desperate debts.  New. 
And dost not thou fall down  
And pray to th' winds to sacrifice him to  
Poor John and mackerel?  Br. 
Or invoke some rock  
To do thee justice?  New. 
Or some compendious Canon  
To take him off i'th' middle?  Plotw. 
And why my tender  
soft-hearted friends?  Br. 
What to take thee from the Temple  
To make thee an old Juryman, a Whittington?  New. 
To transform thy plush to pennystone, and scarlet  
Into a velvet Jacket which hath seen  
Aleppo twice, is known to the great Turk,  
Hath scaped three shipwracks to be left off to thee,  
And knows the way to Mexico as well as the Map?  Br. 
This Jacket surely was employed in finding  
The North-east passage out. Or the same Jacket  
That Coryat died in.  Plotw. 
Very good.  New. 
In Ovid  
There is not such a Metamorphosis  
As thou art now. To be turned into a tree  
Or some handsome beast is courtly to this.  
But for thee, Frank, O Transmutation!  
Of Satin changed to kersey hose I sing.  
Slid his shoes shine too.  Br. 
They have the Gresham die.  
Dost thou not dress thyself by 'em? I can see  
My face in them hither.  Plotw. 
Very pleasant Gentlemen.  Br. 
And faith for how many years art thou bound?  Plotw. 
Do you take me for a prentice?  New. 
Why then what office  
Dost thou bear in the parish this year? Let's feel,  
No batteries in thy head to signify  
thouart Constable?  Br. 
No furious jug broke on it  
In the king's name?  Plotw. 
Did you contrive this scene  
By the way Gentlemen?  New. 
No, but the News  
Thou shouldst turn Tradesman, and this Pagan dress,  
In which if thou shouldst die thou wouldst be damned  
For an Usurer, is comical at the Temple.  
We were about to bring in such a fellow  
For an Apostate in our Antimasque.  
Set one to keep the door, provide half-crown rooms,  
For I'll set bills up of thee, what shall I  
Give thee for the first day?  Br. 
ay, or second?  
For thou'lt endure twice or thrice coming in.  Plotw. 
Well my conceited Orient friends, bright Offsprings  
Oth' female silkworm, and tailor male I deny not  
But you look well in your unpaid for Glory.  
That in these colours you set out the Strand,  
And adorn Fleetstreet. That you may laugh at me  
Poor Working day o'th' City, like two Festivals  
Escaped out of the Almanac.  New. 
Sirrah Bright,  
Didst look to hear such language beyond Ludgate?  Br. 
I thought all wit had ended at Fleet-bridge.  
But wit that goes o'th' the score, that may extend  
If't be a courtier's wit into Cheapside.  Plotw. 
Your Mercer lives there does he? I warrant you  
He has the patience of a burnt Heretic:  
The very faith that sold to you these silks  
And thinks you'll pay for 'em is strong enough  
To save the Infidel part o'th' world, or Antichrist.  Br. 
W'are most mechanically abused.  New. 
Let's tear  
His Jacket off.  Br. 
A match take that side  Plotw. 
Hold, hold.  Br. 
How frail a thing old velvet is, it parts They tear off his jacket  
With as much ease and willingness as two Cowards.  New. 
The tenderest weed that ever fell asunder.  Plotw. 
ha' you your wits? what mean you?  Br. 
Go, put on  
One of thy Temple suits and accompany us,  
Or else thy dimity breeches be mortal.  Plotw. 
You will  
Not strip me will you?  New. 
By thy visible ears we will.  Br. 
By this two handed Beaver; which is so thin  
And light a butterfly's wings put to't would make it  
A Mercuries flying hat and soar aloft.  Plotw. 
But do you know to how much danger  
You tempt me? should my Uncle know I come  
Within the air of Fleetstreet—.  New. 
Will you make  
yourself fit for a coach again, and come  
Along with us?  Plotw. 
Well my two resolute friends  
You shall prevail. But whether now are your  
Lewd motions bent?  New. 
'll dine at Roseclap's, there  
We shall meet Captain Quartfield, and his Poet,  
They shall show us another fish.  Br. 
But by the way we have agreed to see.  
A Lady, you Mechanic.  Plotw. 
What Lady?  New. 
Hast  
Not thou heard of the New-sprung Lady?  Br. 
One  
That keeps her Coachman, Footboy, woman, and spends  
A thousand pound a year by wit.  Plotw. 
How? wit?  New. 
That is her patrimony, Sir; 'tis thought  
The fortune she is borne to will not buy  
A bunch of Turnips.  Plotw. 
She is no Gamester is she?  
Nor carries false dice?  Br. 
No, but has a Tongue,  
Wert in a lawyer's mouth, would make him buy  
All young Heirs near him.  Plotw. 
But does no man know  
From whence she came?  Br. 
As for her birth she may  
Choose her own pedigree; it is unknown  
Whither she be descended of some Ditch,  
Or Duchess.  New. 
She's the wonder of the Court,  
And talk o'th' Town.  Plotw. 
Her name?  New. 
Aurelia.  Plotw. 
I've heard of her. They say she does fight duels,  
And answers challenges in wit.  Br. 
She has been  
Thrice in the field.  Plotw. 
Ith' the field?  New. 
Yes, in Spring Garden.  
Has conquered with no second but her woman.  
A Puritan, and has returned with prizes.  Plotw. 
And no drum beat before her?  New. 
No, nor Colours  
Flourished. She has made a vow never to marry  
Till she be won by Stratagem.  Plotw. 
I long  
To see her.  Br. 
Ith' name of Guildhall who comes here?  Enter Timothy.  

SCENA V.  To them Timothy. Tim. 
By your leave Gentlemen.  Plotw. 
Mr Timothy!  
Welcome from the New world. I looked you should  
Ha passed through half the signs in Heaven by this.  
And ha' conversed with Dolphins. What not gone  
To sea with your Father?  Tim. 
No faith, I do not love  
To go to sea, it makes one lousy, lays him  
In wooden sheets, and lands him a preservative  
Against the plague. Besides, my Mother was  
Afraid to venture me.  Plotw. 
believe't she's wise,  
Not to trust such a wit to a thin frail bark  
Where you had sailed within three inches of  
Becoming a Jonas. Besides the tossing, to have  
All the fierce blustering faces in the Map  
Swell more tempestuously upon you then  
Lawyers preferred, or Trumpeters. And whither  
Were you bound now?  Tim. 
I only came to have  
Your judgement of my suit.  Plotw. 
Surely the tailor  
Has done his part.  Tim. 
And my mother has done hers,  
For she has paid for't. I never durst be seen  
Before my Father out of Duretta and Serge.  
But if he catch me in such paltry stuffs,  
To make me look like one that lets out money,  
Let him say Timothy was borne a fool.  
Before he went he made me do what he list;  
Now he's abroad I'll do what I list. What  
Are these two? Gentlemen?  Plotw. 
You see they wear  
Their Heraldry.  Tim. 
But I mean can they roar,  
Beat Drawers, play at dice, and court their Mistress.  
I mean forthwith to get a Mistress.  Plotw. 
But  
How comes this, Mr. Timothy, you did not  
Rise such a gallant this morning.  Tim. 
All's on for that.  
My Mother lost her Maidenhead that I  
Might come first into th' world; and by God's lid  
I'll bear myself like the elder brother, I.  
D'you think I'll all days of my life frequent  
Saint Antlin, like my sister? Gentlemen  
I covet your acquaintance.  Br. 
Your servant, Sir.  New. 
I shall be proud to know you.  Tim. 
Sir, my knowledge  
Is not much worth; I me borne to a small fortune,  
Some hundred thousand pound, if once my Father  
Held up his hands in Marble, or kneeled in brass.  
What are you Inns of Court-men?  New. 
The Catechism  
Were false should we deny it.  Tim. 
I shall shortly  
Be one myself, I learn to dance already,  
And wear short cloaks; I mean in your next Masque  
To have a part, I shall take most extremely.  Br. 
You will inflame the Ladies, Sir. They'll strive  
Who shall most privately convey Jewels.  
Into your hand.  New. 
This is an excellent fellow;  
Who is't?  Plotw. 
Rich Seathrift's son that's gone to sea  
This morning with my Uncle.  Br. 
Is this he  
Whose sister thou shouldst marry? The wench that brings  
Ten thousand pound.  Plotw. 
My Uncle would fain have me,  
But I have cast her off.  Br. 
Why?  Plotw. 
Faith she's handsome,  
And had a good wit, but her schoolmistress  
Has made her a rank Puritan.  New. 
let's take him  
Along with us and Captain Quartfield shall show him.  Plotw. 
'twill be an excellent Comedy, and afterwards  
I have a project on him.  Tim. 
Gentlemen  
Shall we dine at an Ordinary? You  
Shall enter me among the Wits.  Plotw. 
Sir, I  
Will but shift clothes then we'll associate you.  
But first you shall with us and see a Lady,  
Rich as your Father's chests and odd holes; and  
Fresh as Pygmalion's Mistress newly wakened  
Out of her Alabaster.  Tim. 
Lead on;  
I long to see a Lady and to salute her.  Exeunt.   

ACTVS II.  

SCENA I.  Aurelia. Dorcas. 
WHY we shall have you get in time the turn  
Up of your Eyes, speak in the Nose, draw sighs  
Of an ell long, and rail at Discipline.  
Would I could hear from Baneswright, ere I'll be tortured  
With your preciseness thus, I'll get dry palms  
With starching, and put on my smocks myself.  Dor. 
Surely you may, and air'em too, there have been  
Very devout and holy women that wore  
No shift at all.  Aur. 
Such Saints you mean as wore  
Their Congregations, and swarmed with Christian Vermin.  
You'll hold clean linen Heresy?  Dor. 
Surely yes,  
Clean linen in a surplice; That and powders  
Do bring dry summers, make the sickness rage,  
And th' Enemy prevail, It was revealed  
To Ms Scruple and her husband, who  
Do verily ascribe the German war,  
And the late persecutions, to curling,  
False Teeth, and Oil of talc.  Aur. 
Now she is in  
A Lecturer will sooner hold his peace  
Then she.  Dor. 
And surely, as Master Scruple says,  Aur. 
That was her Schoolmaster. One that cools a feast  
With his long grace, and sooner eats a Capon  
Then blesses it.  Dor. 
And proves it very well  
Out of a book that suffered martyrdom  
By fire in Cheapside, since Amulets, and Bracelets,  
And Lovelocks were in use, the price of sprats,  
jerusalem Artichokes, and Holland Cheese,  
Is very much increased, so that the Brethren,  
Butchers I mean, and such poor zealous Saints,  
As earn five groats a week under a stall,  
By singing Psalms, and drawing up of holes,  
Can't live in their vocation, but are fain  
To turn—  Aur. 
Old breeches.  Dor. 
Surely, Teachers and Prophets.   

SCENA II.  To Them Baneswright. Aur. 
O Mr Baneswright, are you come? my woman  
Was in her preaching fit, she only wanted  
A table's end.  Banesw. 
Why what's the matter?  Aur. 
Never  
Poor Lady had so much unbred holiness  
About her person; I am never dressed  
Without a sermon, but am forced to prove  
The lawfulness of curling irons before  
She'll crisp me in a morning; I must show  
Text for the fashions of my gowns, she'll ask  
Where Jewels are commanded, or what Lady  
Ith' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies;  
She will urge Counsels for her little ruff  
Called in Northamptonshire; and her whole service  
Is a mere confutation of my clothes.  Banesw. 
Why Madam, I assure you time hath been  
However she be otherwise, when she had  
A good quick wit, and would have made to a Lady  
A serviceable sinner.  Aur. 
She can't preserve  
(The gift for which I took her) but (as though  
She Were inspired from Ipswich) she will make  
The Acts and Monuments in sweetmeats; Quinces  
Arraigned and burnt at a stake; all my banquets  
Are persecutions, and Dioclesian's days  
Are brought for entertainment, and we eat Martyrs.  Banesw. 
Madam she is far gone.  Aur. 
Nay, Sir, she is  
A Puritan at her needle too.  Banesw. 
Indeed?  Aur. 
She works religious petticoats; for flowers  
She'll make Church Histories; her needle doth  
So sanctify my Cushionets, besides  
My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries,  
And are so learned, that I fear in time  
All my apparel will be quoted by  
Some pure instructor. Yesterday I went  
To see a Lady that has a Parrot, my woman  
While I was in discourse converted the fowl.  
And now it can speak nought but Knox's works,  
So there's a parrot lost.  Banes. 
Faith Madam she  
Was earnest to come to you, had I known  
Her Mistress had so bred her I would first  
Ha preferred her to new England.  Dor. 
Surely, Sir,  
You promised me when you did take my money  
To help me to a faithful service, a Lady  
That would be saved. Not one that loves profane,  
Unsanctified fashions.  Aur. 
Fly my sight  
You goody Hofman, and keep your chamber till  
You can provide yourself some cure, or I  
Will forthwith excommunicate your zeal,  
And make you a silent waiting woman.  Banes. 
Ms Dorcas,  
If you'll be usher to that holy learned woman  
That can heal broken shins, scald heads, and th' Itch,  
Your schoolmistress, that can expound, and teaches  
To knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers,  
I'll help you back again.  Dor. 
The motion sure is good  
And I will ponder of it.  Aur. 
From thy zeal, Ex. Dorcas.  
The frantic lady's judgements, and Histriomastix,  
Deliver me. This was of your preferring,  
You must needs help me to another.  Banes. 
How  
Would you desire her qualified, deformed  
And crooked like some Ladies, who do wear  
Their women like black patches to set 'em of?  Aur. 
I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm white  
Only between two moors; or that my nose  
Stands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.  Banes 
But you would have her secret, able to keep  
Strange sights from th' knowledge of your Knight when you  
Are married, Madam, of a quick feigning head?  Aur. 
You wrong me, Baneswright, she whom I would have,  
Must to her handsome shape have virtue too.  Banesw. 
Well Madam I shall fit you. I do know  
A choleric Lady which within these three weeks  
Has, for not cutting her corns well, put off  
Three women; and is now about to part  
With th' fourth, just one of your description.  
Next change o'th' Moon, or weather, when her feet  
Do ache again, I do believe I shall  
Pleasure your Ladyship.  Aur. 
Expect your reward.  Exit Baneswright.  

SCENA III.  To Her Bright, Newcut, Timothy, Plotwell. Tim. 
LAdy, let me taste the Elysium of your lips.  Aur. 
Why what are you? you will not leap me, Sir,  
Pray know your distance.  Tim. 
What am I sweet Lady?  
My Father is an Alderman's fellow, and I  
Hope to be one in time.  Aur. 
Then, Sir, in time  
You may be remembered at the quenching of  
Fired houses, when the bells ring backward, by  
Your name upon the Buckets.  Tim. 
Nay they say  
You have a good wit Lady, and I can find it  
as soon as another: I in my time have been  
Oth' University, and should have been a scholar.  Aur. 
By the size of your wit, Sir, had you kept  
To that profession, I can foresee  
You would have been a great persecuter of Nature,  
And great consumer of rush Candles, with  
As small success, as if a Tortoise should  
Day and night practise to run races: Having  
Contemplated yourself into ill looks,  
In pity to so much affliction,  
You might ha' passed for learned: and 't may be,  
If you had fallen out with the Muses, and  
scaped Poetry, you might have risen to scarlet.  Tim. 
Here's a rare Lady with all my heart, by this  
Light Gentlemen, now have I no more language  
Than a dumb parrot, a little more she'll jeer me  
Into a fellow that turns upon his toe  
In a steeple and strikes quarters.  Br. 
And why should you  
Be now so dainty of your lips? verily  
They are not Virgins, they have tasted Man.  Aur. 
And may again but then I'll be secured,  
For the sweet air o'th' parties. If you  
Will bring it me confirmed under the hands  
Of four sufficient Ladies that you are  
Clean men, you may chance kiss my woman.  New. 
Lady,  
Our lips are made of the same clay that yours,  
And have not been refused.  Aur. 
'tis right you are  
Two Inns of Court-men.  Br. 
Yes, what then?  Aur. 
Known Cladders  
Through all the Town.  Br. 
Cladders?  Aur. 
Yes, Catholic Lovers,  
From Country Madams to your glover's wife,  
Or Laundress; will not let poor Gentlewomen  
Take physic quietly, but disturb their pills  
From operation with your untaught visits.  
Or if they be employed, contrive small plots  
Below stairs with the Chambermaid; commend  
Her fragrant breath, which five yards of salutes,  
At four deflowers a Rose, at three kills spiders.  New. 
What dangerous truths these are?  Aur. 
Ravish a lock  
From the yellow waiting-woman, use stratagems  
To get her silver whistle, and waylay  
Her pewter knots or bodkin.  New. 
Pretty, pretty.  Br. 
You think you have abused us now?  Aur. 
I'll tell you,  
Had I in all the world but forty Mark,  
And that got by my needle and making socks;  
And were that forty Mark Mil-sixpences,  
spur-royals, Harry groats, or such odd coin  
Of husbandry as in the king's reign now  
Would never pass, I would despise you.  New. 
Lady,  
Your wit will make you die a withered virgin.  Br. 
We shall in time when your most tyrant tongue  
Hath made this house a wilderness, and you  
As unfrequented as a state's man fallen;  
When you shall quarrel with your face and glass,  
Till from your pencil you have raised new cheeks,  
See you beg suitors, write Bills o'er your door,  
Here is an ancient Lady to be let.  New. 
You think you are handsome now, and that your eyes  
Make star-shooting, and dart?  Aur. 
'Tmay be I do.  New. 
May I not prosper if I have not seen  
A better face in signs, or gingerbread.  Tim. 
yes, I for two pence oft have bought a better.  Br. 
What a sweet innocent look you have!  Plotw. 
Fie gentlemen,  
Abuse a harmless Lady thus, I can't  
With patience hear your blasphemies. Make me  
Your second Madam.  Tim. 
And make me your third.  Aur. 
O prodigy to hear an Image speak.  
Why, Sir, I took you for a Mute i'th' Hangings.  
I'll tell the faces.  Tim. 
Gentlemen do I  
Look like one of them Trojans?  Aur. 
'tis so, your face  
Is missing here, Sir, pray step back again  
And fill the number; you I hope have more  
Truth in you then to filch yourself away,  
And leave my room unfurnished.  Plotw. 
By this light  
She'll send for a Constable straight and apprehend him  
For the every.  Tim. 
Why Lady do you think me  
Wrought in a Loom, some Dutch piece weaved at Mooreclack?  Aur. 
Surely you stood so simply, like a Man  
Penning of Recantations, that I suspected  
Y' had been a part of the Monopoly.  
But now I know you have a tongue, and are  
A very Man, I'll think you only dull,  
And pray for better utterance.  Plotw. 
Lady you make  
Rash judgement of him, he was only struck  
With admiration of your beauty.  Tim. 
Truly  
And so I was.  Aur. 
Then you can wonder, Sir?  Plotw. 
Yes when he sees such miracles as you.  Aur. 
And love me can't you?  Tim. 
Love you? By this hand  
I'd love a dog of your sweet looks; I am  
Enamoured of you Lady.  Aur. 
Ha, ha, ha, now surely  
I wonder you wear not a cap; your case  
Requires warm things, I'll send you forth a caudle. Exit.  Br. 
The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs  
Be with you Madam.  Tim. 
Had I now pen and ink,  
If I were urged I'd fain know whether I  
In conscience ought not to set down myself  
No wiser than I should be.  Plotw. 
Gentlemen  
How like you her wit?  Tim. 
Wit? I verily  
Believe she was begotten by some wit;  
And he that has her, may beget plays on her.  New. 
Her wit had need be good, it finds her house.  Tim. 
Her house? 'tis able to find the Court, if she  
Be chaste to all this wit, I do not think  
But that she might be shown.  Br. 
She speaks with salt,  
And has a pretty scornfulness, which now  
I've seen I'm satisfied.  New. 
Come then away;  
To Roseclap's.  Tim. 
Lead on, Let us dine: This Lady  
Runs in my head still.  Foot. 
Sir, My Lady prays. Enter a Footman.  
You would dismiss your company, she has  
Some business with you.  Plotw. 
Gentlemen walk softly,  
I'll overtake you.  Br. 
Newcut 'slight her wit  
is come to private meetings.  New. 
ay, I thought  
She had some other virtues. Well make haste,  
We'll stay without, when thou hast done inform us  
What the rate is; if she be reasonable  
we'll be her Customers.  Plotw. 
Y'are merry, Sir.  Ex. Br. New. Tim. Enter Aurelia.  

SCENA IV.  Plotwell. Aurelia. 
NAy sister you may enter, they are gone.  
I did receive your ticket this morning. What?  
You look the Mine should run still?  Aur. 
O you are  
A careful brother, to put me on a course  
That draws the eyes o'th' Town upon me, and makes me  
Discourse for Ordinaries, then leave me in't.  
I will put off my Ladyship, and return  
To M' Holland, and to making shirts,  
And bands again.  Plotw. 
I hope you will not.  Aur. 
I  
Repent I left th' Exchange.  Plotw. 
Faith I should laugh  
To see you there again, and there serve out  
The rest of your indentures, by managing  
Your Needle well, and making Nightcaps, by  
A Chafing dish in winter mornings, to keep  
Your fingers pliant. How rarely 'twould become you  
To run over all your shop to passengers  
In a fine sale tune?  Aur. 
What would you have me do?  
D'you think I'm the Dutch Virgin that could live  
By th' scent of Flowers? Or that my family  
Are all descended of Chameleons,  
And can be kept with air? is this the way  
To get a husband to be in danger to be  
Shut up for house-rent, or to wear a gown  
Out a whole fashion, or the same Jewels twice?  
Shortly my neighbours will commend my clothes,  
For lasting well, give them strange dates, and cry  
Since your last Gorget and the blazing star.  Plotw. 
Prithee excuse me sister, I can now  
Rain showers of silver into thy lap again;  
My uncle's gone to sea, and has left me  
The key to th' golden fleece. Thou shalt be still.  
A Madam, Pen, and to maintain thy Honour,  
And to new dub thee take this. But sister, I Gives her a Purse.  
Expected you ere this out of the Throng  
Of suitors that frequent you, should have been  
Made a true Lady, not one in Type or show.  
I fear you are too scornful, look too high.  Aur. 
Faith brother 'tis no age to be put off  
With empty education; few will make jointures  
To wit or good parts. I may die a Virgin,  
When some old widow which at every cough  
resigns some of her teeth, and every night  
Puts off her Leg as duly as french Hood,  
Scarce wears her own Nose, hath no eyes but such  
As she first bought in Broad-street, and every morning  
Is put together like some Instrument,  
Having full Coffers shall be wooed, and thought  
A youthful Bride.  Plotw. 
Why sister will you like  
A Match of my projection? you do know  
How ruinous our father's fortunes are;  
Before he broke you know there was a Contract  
Between you and young Seathrift. What if I  
Make it a wedding?  Aur. 
Marry a fool? in hope  
To be a Lady Majoress?  Plotw. 
Why sister, I  
Could name good Ladies that are fain to find  
Wit for themselves & Knights too.  Aur. 
I have heard  
Of one whose husband was so meek, to be  
For need her Gentleman usher, and while she  
Made visits above stairs would patiently  
Find himself business at Tre-trip i'th' Hall.  Plotw. 
He's only City bred, one month of your  
Sharp conversation will refine him; besides  
How long willt be ere your dissembled state  
Meet such another offer?  Aur. 
Well Brother you shall  
Dispose of my affections.  Plotw. 
Then sometime  
This afternoon I'll bring him hither, do you  
Provide the Priest; your Dining room will serve  
As well as the Church.  Aur. 
I will expect you.  Exeunt several ways.  

SCENA V.  Enter Captain Quart-field beating Roseclap. Salewit and Millicent labouring to part 'em. Quart 
Sirrah, I'll beat you into air.  Ros. 
Good Captain.  Quartf. 
I will by Hector.  Ros. 
Murder, murder, help.  Quartf. 
You needy, shifting, cozening, breaking slave.  Mill. 
Nay, Mr Salewit, help to part 'em.  Salew. 
Captain.  Quartf. 
Ask me for money, dog?  Ros. 
Oh! I am killed.  Mill. 
Help. Help.  Salew. 
Nay Captain.  Q. 
Men of my coat pay?  Mill. 
I'll call in neighbours. Murder. Murder.  Q. 
Rascal  
I'll make you trust and offer me petitions  
To go o'th' score.  Ros. 
Good, 'tis very good.  Mil. 
How does thy head sweetheart?  Ros. 
Away be quiet, Mill.  Salew. 
Roseclap, you'll never leave this, I did tell you  
Last time the Captain beat you what a Lion  
He is being asked for reckonings.  Mill. 
So you did  
indeed good Mr Salewit; yet you must  
Ever be foolish husband.  Salew. 
What if we  
Do owe you money, Sir, is't fit for you  
To ask it?  Ros. 
Well, Sir, there is law; I say  
No more, but there is law.  Quartf. 
What law you Cur?  
The law of Nature, Custom, Arms, and Nations,  
Frees men of war from payments.  Ros. 
Yes, your Arms Captain,  
None else.  Q. 
No soldiers ought to pay.  Sale. 
Nor Poets:  
All void of money are privileged.  Mil. 
What would you have,  
Captains and Poets, Mr Salewit says,  
Must never pay.  Salew. 
No, nor be asked for money.  Ros. 
Still I say there is law.  Quartf. 
Say that again,  
And by Bellona I will cut thy throat.  Mill. 
You long to see your brains out.  Quartf. 
Why you Mongrel,  
You john of all Trades, have we been your guests  
Since you first kept a Tavern, when you had  
The face and impudence to hang a bush  
Out to three pints of Claret, two of Sack  
In all the world?  Salew. 
After that, when you broke,  
Did we here find you out, customed your House,  
And helped away your victuals which had else  
Lain mouldy on your hands?  Ros. 
You did indeed,  
And never paid for't. I do not deny,  
But you have been my Customers these two years,  
My Jack went not, nor Chimney smoked without you.  
I will go farther; your two mouths have been  
Two as good eating Mouths as need to come  
Within my doors, as curious to be pleased  
As if you still had eaten with ready money:  
Had still the meats in season; still drunk more  
Than your Ordinary came to.  Sale. 
And your conscience now  
Would have this paid for?  Ros. 
Surely so I take it.  Sale. 
Was ever the like heard?  Qua. 
'tis most unreasonable  
He has a hardened conscience. Sirrah, Cheater,  
You would be questioned for your reckonings, Rogue.  Ros. 
Do you inform.  Quartf. 
I hear one o'th' Sheriffs  
Paid for the boiling of a Carp a Mark.  Salew. 
Most unheard of exactions!  Ros. 
Yet surely, Captain.  
No man had cheaper reckonings than yourself,  
And Mr Salewit here.  Quartf. 
How cheap?  Ros. 
I say  
No more good Captain; not to pay is cheap,  
A man would think.  Quart. 
Sir, Doubt you reckon Air,  
And make it dear to breathe in your house, and put  
The Nose to charges?  Ros. 
Right, perfumed Air, Captain.  Quartf. 
Is not the standing of the salt an Item,  
And placing of the bread?  Ros. 
A new way, Captain.  Quartf. 
Is not the folding of your Napkins brought  
Into the Bill?  Ros. 
Pinched Napkins, Captain, and laid  
Like Fishes, Fowls, or Faces.  Salew. 
Then remember  
How you rate salads, Roseclap; one may buy  
Gardens as Cheap.  Ros. 
Yes, Mr Salewit, salads  
Taken from Euclid, made in Diagrams,  
And to be eaten in Figures.  Quartf. 
And we must pay  
For your Inventions, Sir.  Ros. 
Or you are damned,  
Good Captain, you have sworn to pay this twelvemonth.  Quartf. 
Peace you loud, bawling Cur; do you disgrace me  
Before these Gallants, See if I don't kill you.   

SCENA VI.  To Them Bright. Newcut. Timothy. Plotwell. Br. 
SAve you Captain Quartfield, and my brave Wit,  
My man of Helicon, salute this Gentleman,  
He is a City wit.  New. 
A Corporation  
Went to the bringing of him forth.  Quartf. 
I embrace him;  Salew. 
And so do I.  Tim. 
You are a Poet, Sir,  
And can make Verses, I hear?  Salew. 
Sir, I am  
A servant to the Muses.  Tim. 
I have made  
Some speeches, Sir, in verse, which have been spoke  
By a green Robin Goodfellow from Cheapside Conduit,  
To my Father's Company; and mean this afternoon  
To make an Epithalamium upon my wedding.  
A Lady fell in love with me this morning,  
Ask Mr Francis here.  Plotw. 
Heart you spoil all,  
Did not I charge you to be silent?  Tim. 
That's true,  
I had forgot. you are a Captain, Sir?  Quartf. 
I have seen service, Sr.  Tim. 
Captain I love  
Men of the sword, and buff, and if need were  
I can roar too, and hope to swear in time,  
Do you see, Captain.  Plot. 
Nay Captain we have brought you  
A Gentleman of valour who has been  
In moorfield's often, marry it has been  
To squire his sisters, and demolish Custards  
At Pimlico.  Quartf. 
Afore me, Mr Plotwell,  
I never hoped to see you in silk again.  Salew. 
I looked the next Lord mayor's day to see you o'th' Livery,  
Or one o'th' Bachelor Whifflers.  Quartf. 
What is  
Your Uncle dead?  Plotw. 
He may in time; he's gone  
To sea this morning, Captain, and I am come  
into your order again. But hark you, Captain,  
What think you of a Fish now?  Qu. 
Mad wags, mad wags.  Br. 
By Heaven its true, here we have brought one with us.  New. 
Rich Seathrift's son, he'll make a rare sea-Monster.  Quartf. 
And shall's be merry i'faith?  Br. 
Salewit shall make  
A song upon him.  New. 
And Roseclap's boy shall sing it.  Salew. 
We have the properties of the last fish.  Quartf. 
And if I  
At dinner do not give him sea enough,  
And afterwards if I, and Salewit do not  
Show him much better than he that shows the Tombs,  
Let me be turned into a Swordfish myself.  Plotw. 
A natural change for a Captain. How now Roseclap,  
Pensive and cursing the long Vacation?  
Thou look'st as if thou meanst to break shortly.  Ros. 
Ask  
The Captain why I am sad.  Quartf. 
Faith Gentlemen,  
I disciplined him for his rudeness.  Plotw. 
Why these  
Are judgements, Roseclap, for dear reckonings.  Tim. 
Art thou  
The half Crown fellow of the house?  Ros. 
Sir, I  
Do keep the Ordinary.  Tim. 
Let's have wine enough;  
I mean to drink a health to a Lady.  Plotw. 
Still  
Will you betray your fortune? One of them  
Will go and tell her who you are, and spoil  
The Marriage.  Tim. 
Noah, peace. Gentlemen if you'll  
Go in we'll follow.  Ros. 
Please you enter, dinner  
Shall straight be set upon the board.  Br. 
we'll expect you, Ex: Br. New. Salew. Quart. Rosecl.  
Come Gentlemen.  Tim. 
But Mr Francis, was that  
The business why she called you back.  Plotw. 
Believe it  
Your Mother's smock shined at your birth, or else  
You wear some Charm about you.  Tim. 
Not I truly.  Plotw. 
It can not be she should so strangely dote  
Upon you else: slight had you stayed, I think  
She would have wooed you herself.  Tim. 
Now I remember  
One read my fortune once, and told my father  
That I should match a Lady.  Plotw. 
How things fall out?  Tim. 
And did she ask you who I was?  Plotw. 
I told her  
You were a young Knight.  Tim. 
Good.  Pl. 
Scarce come to th' years  
Of your discretion yet.  Tim. 
Good still.  Pl. 
And that a great Man  
Did mean to beg you for his daughter.  Tim. 
Most rare.  
This afternoon's the time?  Plotw 
Faith she  
Looks you should use a little Courtship first,  
That done, let me alone to have the Priest  
In readiness.  Tim. 
But were I not best ask  
My friends consent?  Pl. 
How? friend's consent? that's fit  
For none but farmer's sons, and milkmaids. You shall not  
Debase your judgement. She takes you for a wit,  
And you shall match her like one.  Tim. 
Then I will.  Plotw. 
But no more words to th' Gallants.  Tim. 
Do you think  
I am a sieve and cannot hold.  Ros. 
Gentlemen Enter Roseclap.  
The company are sat.  Tim. 
It shall be yours.  Plotw. 
Nay, Sir, your fortune claims precedency. Exeunt.   

SCENA VII.  Warehouse. Sea-thrift. cipher. Ware-h. 
Fetched abroad by two Gallants say you?  Cy. 
Yes, Sir,  
as soon as you were gone; he only stayed  
To put on other clothes.  Seath. 
You say my son  
Went with 'em too?  Cyph. 
Yes, Sir.  War. 
And whether went they?  Cyph. 
I followed'em to Roseclap's Ordinary  Ware-h. 
And there you left 'em?  Cyph. 
Yes, Sir, Just before  
I saw some Captains enter.  Seath. 
Well, I give  
My son for lost, undone, past hope.  Ware-h. 
There is  
No more but this we'll thither straight. You cipher  
Have your instructions.  Cyph. 
Sir, let me alone  
To make the story doleful.  Ware-h. 
Go, make you ready then.  
Now, Mr Seathrift, you may see, what these Exit.  
Young men would do left to themselves.  Sea-th. 
My son  
Shall know he has a sister.  Ware-h. 
And my Nephew  
That once he had an Uncle. To leave land  
Unto an unthrift is to build on sand.    

ACTVS III.  

SCENA I.  Bright. Newcut. Plotwell. Rosclap. hanging out the picture of a strange fish. Br. 
FOre Jove the Captain foxed him rarely.  Ros. 
O Sir  
He is used to it; this is the fift fish now  
That he hath shown thus. One got him twenty pound.  New. 
How Rosclap?  Ros. 
Why the Captain kept him, Sir,  
A whole week drunk, and showed him twice a day.  New. 
It could not be like this.  Ros. 
Faith I do grant  
This is the strangest fish. you I have hung  
His other picture into th'fields, where some  
Say 'tis an o'ergrown porpoise; others say  
'tis the fish caught in Cheshire; one to whom  
The rest agree, said 'twas a Mermaid.  Plotw. 
'Slight,  
Roseclap, shalt have a patent of him. The Birds  
Brought from Peru, the hairy Wench, the Camel,  
The Elephant, Dromedaries, or Windsor Castle,  
The Woman with dead flesh, or She that washes,  
Threads needles, writes, dresses her children, plays  
Oth' Virginals with her feet, could never draw  
People like this.  New 
O that his Father were  
At home to see him.  Plotw. 
Or his Mother come,  
Who follows strange sights out of Town, and went  
To Branford to a Motion.  Br. 
Bid the Captain hasten,  
Or he'll recover and spoil all.  Ros. 
theyare here.   

SCENA. II.  Enter Quartfield and Salewit dressed like two Trumpeters, keeping the door Mrs. Seathrift and Mrs Holland with a Prentice before 'em as comers in. Quart. 
BEarback there.  Sale. 
Pray you do not press so hard.  Quart. 
Make room for the two Gentlewomen.  Mrs. Seath. 
What is't?  Sal. 
Twelvepence a piece  Ms. Holl. 
We will not give't. Q. Make room  
For them that will then.  Plotw. 
O fortune here's his Mother.  Br. 
And who's the other?  Plotw. 
One Ms Holland, the  
Great seamstress on th'Exchange  Ms. Holl. 
We gave but a groat  
To see the last fish.  Quart. 
Gentlewoman, that  
Was but an Irish Sturgeon.  Salew. 
This came from  
The Indies, and eats five Crowns a day in fry,  
Ox livers, and brown past  Ms. Seath. 
Well there's three shillings,  
Pray let us have good places now.  Quartf. 
Bear back there  Ms Holl. 
Look Ms. Seathrift here be Gentlemen.  
Sure 'tis a rare Fish  Ms Seath. 
I know one of'em,  Ms. Holl. 
And so do I, his sister was my prentice  Ms Seath, 
let's take acquaintance with him.  Plotw. 
Mrs. Seathrift.  
Hath the sight drawn you hither?  Ms Seath. 
Yes Sir I  
And Mrs Holland here, my Gossip, past  
This way and so called in. Pray, Mr Plotwell,  
Is not my son here? I was told he went  
With you this morning.  Plotw. 
You shall see him straight.  Ms Holl. 
When will the Fish begin, Sir?  Br. 
Heart she makes him  
A puppet play.  Plotw. 
Why now they only stay  
For company, 't has sounded twice.  Ms Seath. 
Indeed  
I long to see this fish; I wonder whither  
They will cut up his belly, they say a Tench  
Will make him whole again.  Ms Holl. 
Look Ms Seathrift,  
What claws he has.  Ms Seath. 
For all the world like Crabs.  Ms Holl. 
Nay mark his feet too.  Ms Seath. 
For all the world like Plaice.  Br. 
Was ever better sport heard?  New. 
prithee peace.  Ms Holl. 
Pray can you read that? Sir, I warrant you,  
That tells where it was caught, and what fish 'tis.  Plotw. 
Within this place is to be seen,  
A wondrous Fish. God save the Queen  Ms Holl. 
Amen, she is my customer, And I  
Have sold her bonelace often.  Br. 
Why the Queen?  
'tis writ the King.  Plotw. 
That was to make the rhyme.  Br. 
Slid thou didst read it as 'twere some picture of  
An Elzabeth fish.  Quartf. 
Bear back there.  Salew. 
Make room, you  
Friend that were going to cut a purse there, make  
Way for the two old Gentlemen to pass. Enter Warehouse & Seathrift disguised.  Wareh. 
What must we give?  Quartf. 
We take a shilling Sir.  Salew. 
It is no less.  Seath. 
Pray God your fish be worth it.  
What is't a whale you take so dear?  Quart. 
It is  
A fish taken in the Indies.  Wareh. 
Pray dispatch then,  
And shout, us quickly.  Salew. 
Pray forbear, you'd have  
Your head broke Cobbler.  Wareh. 
Yonder is my Nephew  
In his old Gallantry.  Seath. 
Who's there too? my wife?  
And Ms. Holland? Nay I looked for them.  
But where's my wise son?  Ware-h. 
Mass I see not him.  Quartf. 
Keep out Sir.  Salew. 
Waterman you must not enter. cipher presses in like a waterman.  Quartf. 
This is no place for scullers.  Cyph. 
I must needs  
Speak with one Mr Plotwell.  Quart. 
You must stay.  Salew. 
Thrust him out.  Cyph. 
And one Mr Seathrift They thrust him out.  
On urgent business.  Salew. 
They are yet employed  
In weightier affairs, make fast the door.  Quartf. 
There shall no more come in: come in boy.  Seat. 
don't  
They speak as if my son were in the room?  Ware-h. 
Yes, pray observe & mark 'em.  Quartf. 
Gentlemen,  
And Gentlewomen, you now shall see a sight, Draws a Curtain behind it Timothy asleep like a strange fish.  
Europe ne'er showed the like; behold this fish  Ms. Holl. 
O strange look how it sleeps.  Br. 
just like a Salmon  
Upon a stall in fish-street  Ms. Seath. 
How it snorts too,  
Just like my husband.  Ware-h. 
'tis very like a man.  Seath. 
'Thas such a nose and eyes.  Salew. 
Why 'tis a Man fish.  
An Ocean Centaur, begot between a Siren  
And a he stock fish.  Seath. 
Pray where took ye him?  Quartf. 
We took him strangely in the Indies, near  
The mouth of Rio de la plata, asleep  
Upon the shore just as you see him now.  Ms Holl. 
How say y', asleep.  Ware-h. 
How? would he come to land?  Seath. 
'tis strange a fish should leave his Element.  Quartf. 
Ask him what things the Country told us.  Sal. 
You  
Will scarce believe it now. This fish would walk you  
Two or three mile o'th' shore sometimes; break houses,  
Ravish a naked wench or two, (for there  
Women go naked) then run to Sea again.  Quartf. 
The Country has been laid, and warrants granted  
To apprehend him.  Ware-h. 
I do suspect these fellows,  
They lie as if they had patent for't.  Seath. 
The company  
Should every one believe his part, would scarce  
Have faith enough among us.  Ware-h. 
Mark again.  Salew. 
The States of Holland would have bought him of us  
Out of a great design.  Seath. 
Indeed?  Salew. 
They offered  
A thousand dollars.  Quart. 
You cannot enter yet. Some knock.  Ware. 
Indeed? so much? pray what to do?  Salew. 
Why Sir,  
They were in hope in time to make this fish  
Of faction 'gainst the Spaniard, and do service  
Unto the state.  Seath. 
As how?  Salew. 
Why, Sir, next plate-fleet  
To dive, bore holes i'th' bottom of their ships,  
And sink 'em; you must think a fish like this  
May be taught MACHIAVEL, and made a state-fish;  Plotw. 
As dogs are taught to fetch.  New. 
Or Elephants  
To dance on ropes.  Br. 
And pray what Honour would  
The States have given him for the service?  Quartf. 
That,  
Sir, is uncertain.  Salew. 
Ha made him some sea Count;  
Or't may be Admiral.  Plotw. 
Then, sir, in time,  
Dutch Authors that writ Mare Liberum,  
Might dedicate their books to him?  Salew. 
Yes being  
A fish advanced, and of great place. Sing boy.  
You now shall hear a song upon him.  Br. 
Listen  New. 
Do they not act it rarely?  Plotw. 
If 'twere their trade  
They could not do it better.  Seath. 
Hear you that sir?  Ware-h. 
Still I suspect.  Ms Holl. 
I warrant you this fish  
Will shortly be in a Ballad.  Salew. 
Begin boy  

Song.  
We show no monstrous Crocodile,  
Nor any prodigy of Nile.  
No Remora that stops Your fleet,  
Like sergeants Gallants in the street.  
No sea-horse, which can trot or pace,  
Or swim false gallop, post, or race.  
For crooked Dolphins we not care,  
Though on their back a fiddler were.  
The like to this fish which we show,  
Was ne'er in fish-street Old, or New.  
Nor ever served toth' sheriffs board,  
Or kept in sauce for the Major Lord.  
Had old Astronomers but seen  
This fish, none else in Heaven had been   Ms. Holl. 
The song has wakened him, look, he stirs.  Tim. 
Oh,  
Captain— pox— take— you— Captain  Ms. Sea. 
Hark he speaks.  Tim. 
Oh-my— stomach.-  Wa. 
How's this?  Se. 
I'll pawn my life  
This is imposture.  Tim. 
Oh— Oh—  Plot. 
Heart the Captain  
Did not give him his full load.  Wareh. 
Can your fish  
Speak friends? the proverb says theyare mute.  Qu. 
I'll tell you  
You will admire how docile he is, and how  
he'll imitate a man; tell him your name  
He will repeat it after you; he has heard me  
Called Captain and my fellow curse sometimes,  
And now you heard him say pox take you Captain.  Salew. 
And yesterday I but complained my stomach  
Was over charged, & how he minds it?  New 
strange?  Br. 
I is it not?  Plotw. 
The towardness of a fish.  Salew. 
Would you think when we caught him he should speak  
Drake, Drake.  Br. 
And did he?  Qu. 
Yes and Hawkins;  
A sign he was a fish that swum there, when  
These two compassed the world.  New. 
How should he learn  
Their names I wonder.  Salw. 
From the sailors.  New. 
That may be.  Qu. 
He'll call for drink like me, or any thing  
He lacks.  Tim. 
O-God-my-head.-  Qu. 
D'you hear him?  T. 
Oh,  
Hostess— a— basin—  Plotw. 
slid he'll spew.  Br. 
No matter.  Quart. 
Nay I have seen him foxed, and then maintain  
A drunken Dialogue  Ms. Holl. 
Lord how I long  
To hear a little. Pray try him with some questions,  
Will you, my friend?  Quartf. 
Sometimes he will be sullen,  
And make no answers.  Salew. 
That is when he's angered,  
Or kept from drink long.  Quart. 
But I'll try him: Ms Sea.  
To see what Creatures may be brought to.  Quart. 
Tim,  
You are drunk.  Tim. 
Plague take you Captain— Oh— Lord  
You— made— me—  Sea. 
'Sdeath my son's name.  Tim 
D' you call him?  Sal. 
He'll answer to no name but that.  Q. 
And Tim,  
What think you of a wench now?  Tim. 
Oh I'm sick  
Where is she, Oh.  Seath. 
I'll lay my life this fish  
Is some confederate Rogue.  Quart. 
I drink t' you, Timothy,  
In sack.  Tim. 
Oh Oh.  Quart. 
A health, Tim.  Tim. 
I can drink  
No more, Oh.  Salew. 
What not pledge your Mistress?  Tim. 
Oh,  
Let me alone.  Salew. 
He is not in the mood now.  
Sometimes you'd wonder at him.  Quartf. 
He is tired  
With talking all this day. That and the heat  
Of company about him, dull him.  Ware-h. 
Surely,  
My friends, it is to me a miracle  
To hear Fish speak thus.  Quartf. 
So, Sir, 't has been  
To thousands more.  Salew. 
Come now next Michaelmas,  
'tis five years we have shown him in most Courts  
In Christendom, and you will not believe  
How with mere travelling and observation,  
He has improved himself, and brought away  
The language of the Country.  Seath. 
May not I  
Ask him some questions?  Quartf. 
Sir, you may, but he  
Will answer none but one of us  Ms Sea. 
He's used, Knocking at door.  
And knows their voices.  Salew. 
He is so Ms. Now  
We'll open door.  Wareh. 
Well my belief doth tell me  
There is a mist before our eyes.  Seath. 
I mar'le  
My wise son missed this show.  Quart. 
Good people, we  
Do show no more today; if you desire They draw the Curtain before him.  
To see, come to us in Kings-street tomorrow  Ms Holl. 
Come Gossip let us go, the Fish is done.  Ms Seath. 
By your leave Gentlemen. Truly 'tis a dainty fish.  Exit Ms Seath. Mrs. Holland and Prentice.  

SCENA III.  Enter to them cipher like a Waterman. Cyph. 
PRay which is Mr Plotwell?  Plotw. 
I'm he friend,  
What is your business?  Cyph. 
Sir, I should speak with  
Young Mr Seathrift too.  Plotw. 
Sir, at this time,  
Although no Crab like you, to swim backward, he is  
Of your element.  Cyph. 
Upon the water?  Plotw. 
No  
But something that lives in't. If you but stay  
Till he have slept himself a land Creature, you may  
Chance see him come ashore here.  Tim. 
Oh— my— head—  
Oh— Captain— Mr Francis— Captain— Oh.—  Plot. 
That is his voice Sir.  Seath. 
Death o my soul my son?  Cyph. 
He is in drink, Sir, is he?  Plotw. 
Surely friend,  
You are a witch, he is so.  Cyph. 
Then I must tell  
The news to you, 'tis sad.  Plotw. 
I'll hear't as sadly.  Cyph. 
Your Uncle, Sir, and Mr Seathrift are  
Both drowned some 8 mile below Greenwich.  Pl. 
Drowned?  Cyph. 
They went i'th' Tilt boat, Sir, and I was one  
Oth' oars that rowed 'em, a coal-ship did over run us,  
I scaped by swimming, the two old Gentlemen  
Took hold of one another, and sunk together.  Br. 
How some men's prayers are heard? we did invoke  
The sea this morning, and see, the Thames has took 'em.  Plotw. 
It cannot be, such good news, Gentlemen,  
Cannot be true.  Ware-h. 
'tis very certain, Sir,  
'twas talk upon th' Exchange.  Seath. 
We heard it too  
In Paul's now as we came.  Plotw. 
There friend, there is  
A fair for you; I'm glad you scaped; I had Gives him many.  
Not known the news so soon else.  Cyph. 
Sir, excuse me,  Plot. 
Sir, it is conscience; I do believe you might  
Sue me in Chancery.  Cyph. 
Sir, you show  
The virtues of an Heir.  Ware-h. 
Are you rich Warehouse  
Heir, Sir?  Plotw. 
Yes, Sir, his transitory pelf,  
And some twelve hundred pound a year in earth,  
Is cast on me. Captain, the hour is come,  
You shall no more drink. Ale, of which one draught  
Makes Cowards, and spoils valour; nor take off  
Your moderate quart-glass. I intend to have  
A Musket for you, or glass Canon, with  
A most capacious barrel, which we'll charge,  
And discharge with the rich valiant grape of  
My Uncle's cellar, every charge shall fire  
The glass, and burn itself i'th' filling, and look  
Like a Piece going off.  Quartf. 
I shall be glad  
To give thanks for you, Sir, in pottle draughts,  
And shall love Scotch coal for this wrack the better,  
As long as I know fuel.  Plotw. 
Then my Poet,  
No longer shall write Catches, or thin Sonnets,  
Nor preach in verse, as if he were suborned  
By him that wrote the whip, to pen lean Acts,  
And so to overthrow the stage for want  
Of salt or wit. Nor shall he need torment  
Or persecute his Muse; but I will be  
His God of wine t'inspire him. He shall no more  
Converse with the five yard butler, who like Thunder  
Can turn beer with his voice, and roar it sour;  
But shall come forth a Sophocles, and write  
Things for the Buskin. Instead of Pegasus,  
To strike a spring with's hoof, we'll have a steel  
Which shall but touch a But, and straight shall flow  
A purer, higher, wealthier Helicon.  Salew. 
Frank, Thou shalt be my Phoebus. My next Poem  
Shall be thy Uncle's Tragedy or the life  
And death of two Rich Merchants.  Plotw. 
Gentlemen,  
And now i'faith what think you of the fish?  Ware-h. 
Why as we ought, Sir, strangely.  Br. 
But d'you think  
It is a very fish?  Seath. 
Yes.  New. 
'tis a man.  Plotw. 
This valiant Captain and this man of wit  
First foxed him, then transformed him. we will wake him  
And tell him the news. Ho Mr Timothy!  Tim. 
Plague take you Captain.  Plotw. 
What does your sack work still?  Tim. 
Where am I?  Plotw. 
Come y'have slept enough.  Br. 
Mr Timothy!  
How in the name of fresh Cod came you changed  
Into a sea Calf thus?  New. 
'slight, Sir, here be  
Two Fishmongers to buy you; beat the price  
Now y'are awake, yourself.  Tim. 
How's this? my hands  
Transmuted into Claws? my feet made flounders?  
Arrayed in Fins, and scales? arn't you  
Ashamed to make me such a Monster? pray  
Help to undress me.  Plotw. 
We have rare news for you.  Tim. 
No letter from the Lady I hope?  Plotw. 
Your Father  
And my grave Uncle, Sir, are cast away.  Tim. 
How?  Plotw. 
They by this have made a meal  
For Jacks and Salmon. They are drowned.  Br. 
Fall down  
And worship sea-coals, for a ship of them  
Has made you, Sir, an Heir.  Plotw. 
This fellow here  
Brings the auspicious news: And these two friends  
Of ours confirm it.  Cyph. 
'tis too true, Sir.  Tim. 
Well,  
We are all mortal; but in what wet case  
Had I been now, if I had gone with him.  
Within this fortnight I had been converted  
Into some Pike, you might ha' cheapened me.  
In Fish-street; I had made an Ordinary,  
Perchance at the Mermaid: Now could I cry  
Like any Image in a fountain which He feigns to weep.  
Runs Lamentations. O my hard misfortune!  Seath. 
Fie Sir, good truth it is not manly in you, He feigns to weep.  
To weep for such a slight loss as a father.  Tim. 
I do not cry for that.  Seath. 
No?  Tim. 
no; but to think  
My Mother is not drowned too.  Seath 
I assure you,  
And that's a shrewd mischance.  Tim. 
For then might I  
Ha gone to th' Counting house and set at liberty  
Those harmless Angels, which for many years  
Have been condemned to darkness.  Plotw. 
You'd not do  
Like your penurious Father, who was wont  
To walk his dinner out in Paul's, whiles you  
Kept Lent at home, and had, like folk in sieges,  
Your meals weighed to you.  New. 
Indeed they say he was  
A Monument of Paul's.  Tim. 
Yes, he was there  
As constant as Duke Humphrey. I can show  
The prints where he sat holes i'th' logs.  Plotw. 
He wore  
More pavement out with walking then would make  
A row of new stone-Saints, and yet refused  
To give to th' reparation.  Br. 
I've heard  
Heed make his Jack go empty to cozen neighbours.  Plotw. 
Yes, when there was not fire enough to warm  
A Mastic patch t' apply to his wife's Temples  
In great extremity of toothache. This is  
True, Mr Timothy, is't not?  Tim. 
Yes. Then Linen.  
To us was stranger than to Capuchins.  
My flesh is of an Order with wearing shirts  
Made of the sacks that brought over Cutchyneele,  
Copperas, and indigo. My sister wears  
Smocks made of Curran-bags.  Seath. 
I'll not endure it.  
let's show ourselves.  Ware-h. 
Stay hear all first.  New. 
Thy Uncle  
Was such another Plotwell; I have heard  
He still last left th' Exchange; and would commend  
The wholesomeness o'th' air in moorfield's, when  
The clock struck three sometimes.  Plotw. 
Surely myself,  
cipher his Factor, and an ancient Cat,  
Did keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare,  
four Olives among three. My Uncle would  
Look fat with fasting; I ha' known him surfeit  
Upon a bunch of Raisins, swoon at sight  
Of a whole joint, and rise an Epicure They undisguise.  
From half an Orange.  Ware-h. 
Gentlemen 'tis false.  
Cast off your Cloud. D'you know me, Sir?  Plotw. 
My Uncle!  Sea. 
And do you know me, Sir?  Tim. 
My Father!  War. 
Nay,  
We'll open all the plot, reveal yourself.  Plotw. 
cipher the waterman!  Qu. 
Salewit away; Exit Qu. Salewit.  
I feel a tempest coming.  Ware. 
Are you struck  
With a Torpedo Nephew?  Seath. 
ha' you seen too  
A Gorgon's head that you stand speechless? or  
Are you a fish in earnest?  Br. 
It begins to thunder.  New. 
We will make bold to take our leaves.  Ware. 
What is  
Your Captain fled?  Seath. 
Nay Gentlemen, forsake  
Your Company?  Br. 
Sir, we wave business.  Sea. 
Troth  
It is not kindly done.  War. 
Now, Mr Seathrift, Ex. Br. New.  
You see what Mourners we had had, had we  
Been wracked in earnest. My grieved Nephew here  
Had made my cellar flow with tears, my wines  
Had charged glass ordinance, our funerals had been  
Bewailed in pottle draughts.  Seath. 
And at our graves  
Your Nephew and my Son had made a Panegyric,  
And opened all our virtues.  Wa. 
Ungrateful Monster.  Sea. 
Unnatural villain.  Wareh. 
Thou Enemy to my blood.  Sea. 
Thou worse than Parricide.  War. 
Next my sins I do  
Repent I am thy Uncle.  Sea. 
And I thy Father.  Wareh. 
Death O my soul, did I when first thy Father  
Broke in estate, and then broke from the Counter  
Where Mr Seathrift laid him in the hole,  
For debt among the ruins of the City,  
And Trades like him blown up, take thee from dust,  
Give thee free education, put thee in  
My own fair way of traffic; nay decree  
To leave thee Jewels, Land, my whole estate,  
Pardoned thy former wildness, and couldst thou sort  
thyself with none but idle Gallants, Captains,  
And Poets, who must plot before they eat,  
And make each meal a stratagem? Then could none  
But I be subject of thy impious scoffs?  
I swoon at sight of meat; I rise a Glutton  
From half an Orange; Wretch, forgetful wretch;  
Fore Heaven I count it treason in my blood  
That gives thee a relation. But I'll take  
A full revenge. Make thee my Heir? I'll first  
Adopt a slave, brought from some Galley; One  
Which Laws do put into the Inventory,  
And men bequeath in Wills with stools, & brass pots.  
One who shall first be household stuff, than my Heir.  
Or to defeat all thy large aims I'll marry;  
cipher, go find me Baneswright; he shall straight  
Provide me a wife. I will not stay to let  
My resolution cool. Be she a wench  
That every day puts on her Dowry, wears  
Her fortunes, has no portion, so she be  
Young and likely to be fruitful, I'll have her;  
By all that's good I will; this afternoon;  
I will about it straight.  Se. 
I follow you. Ex. Ware. Cyph.  
And as for you Tim Mermaid, Triton, Haddock,  
The wondrous Indian Fish caught near Peru,  
Who can be of both Elements, your sight  
Will keep you well. Here I do cast thee off,  
And in thy room pronounce to make thy sister  
My heir; it would be most unnatural  
To leave a Fish Land. Lass, Sir, one of your  
Bright sins and gills must swim in seas of sack,  
Spout rich Canaries up like Whales in Maps.  
I know you'll not endure to see my Jack  
Go empty, nor wear shirts of Copperas bags,  
Nor fast in Paul's, you. I do hate thee now,  
Worse than a Tempest, Quicksand, pirate, Rock,  
Or fatal Leak, I or a Privy seal.  
Go let the Captain make you drunk, and let  
Your next change be into some Ape, ('tis stale  
To be a Fish twice) or some active Baboon.  
And when you can find money out, betray  
What wench i'th' Room has lost her maidenhead;  
Can mount toth' King, and can do all your feats,  
If your fine chain, and yellow coat come near  
Th' Exchange, I'll see you, so I leave you.  Plot. 
Now Ex. Sea.  
Were there a dextrous beam and twopence hemp,  
Never had man such cause to hang himself.  Tim. 
I have brought myself to a fine pass too. Now  
Am I fit only to be caught, and put  
Into a pond to leap Carps, or beget  
A goodly race of pickerel.   

SCENA. IV.  To them Quartfield. Salewit. Roseclap, and Baneswright. Quartf. 
HOw now mad Lads, what? is the storm broke up?  Salew. 
What sad like broken Gamesters? Mr Timothy  
'Slight who would think your Father should lay weeles  
To catch you thus?  Tim. 
If ever I be drunk  
With Captains more—.  Plotw. 
Where's Bright and Newcut?  Salew. 
They  
Were sent for to the Temple, but left word  
They would be here at supper.  Plotw. 
They are sure friends,  
To leave us in distress:  Quartf. 
What a mad plot  
These two old Merchants had contrived, to feign  
A voyage, than to hunt you out disguised,  
And hear themselves abused?  Salew. 
We heard all.  Quart. 
If I had stayed they had paid me for a Captain.  Salew. 
They had a fling at me. But do you think  
Your Uncle in this furious mood will marry?  Plotw. 
He deeply swore it; if he do, the slight  
Upon the cards, the hollow die, Park corner,  
And Shooter's hill are my revenue.  Tim. 
Yes,  
And as for me, my destiny will be  
To fight by th' day, carry my Kitchen, and  
Collation at my back, wear orderly  
My shirt in course, after 't has been the shift  
Of a whole Regiment in the Low-Countries.  
And after all return with half a leg,  
One arm perchance, my nose shot off, to move  
Compassion in my father, who in pity  
To so much ruin my be brought to buy  
Some place for me in an Hospital, to keep me  
From Bridges, Hill-tops, & from selling switches. Ent. Rosecl.  Ros. 
Yonder's your Uncle at the field door talking  
With Baneswright, as hot, and earnest for a wench,  
As a recovered Monsieur.  Quartf. 
What is this Baneswright?  Salew. 
A fellow much employed about the Town,  
That contrives Matches. One that brings together  
Parties that never saw, or ever met,  
Till't be for good and all. Knows to a penny  
Estates and Jointures; I'll undertake he has  
Now lying by him unprovided some twenty  
widows of all fortunes that want husbands,  
And men that want wives, and at an hour's warning  
Can make things ready for the Priest.  Quartf. 
Let us  
Devise to get him hither and cross the Match.  Plotw. 
I have great interest in him, the fellow loves me.  
Could I speak with him and draw him to be  
An Actor in't, I have a stratagem  
That can redeem all, and turn the plot Enter Baneswright.  
Upon these sage heads.  Salew. 
By Minerva, look,  
Here's Baneswright.  Plot. 
Mr Baneswright!  Ban. 
Save you Gallants.  Plotw. 
You are employed I hear to find a wife out  
For my young sprightly Uncle.  Banes. 
Sir, he has  
Retained me to that purpose. I just now  
Came from him.  Plotw. 
And do you mean the match  
Shall then proceed?  Banesw. 
I have a leaguer wench  
In readiness, he's gone to put himself  
Into fit ornaments, for the solemnity.  
I'm to provide the Priest and Licence, we go  
Some two hours hence to Church.  Qu. 
Death you Pander.  
Forbid the banes or I will cut your weezle;  
And spoil your squiring in the dark; J've heard  
Of your lewd function, Sirrah; you prefer  
Wenches to Bawdy-houses, Rascal.  Banesw. 
Good, Sir.  
Threaten me not in my vocation.  Plotw. 
Why Baneswright you can be but paid, say I  
Procure the wench, a friend of mine; and double  
Your bargain, such a fair reward methinks  
Should make thee of my project. Thou dost know  
My fortunes are engaged, and thou mayst be  
The happy instrument to recover 'em.  
Be my good Angel once, I have a plot  
Shall make thee famous.  Quartf. 
By Mars deny, and I  
Will act a Tragedy upon thee.  Banes. 
Gentlemen,  
I am a friend to wit, but more to you, Sir.  
Of whose misfortunes I will not be guilty.  
Though, then, your Uncle have employed me, and  
Have deeply sworn to wed this afternoon,  
A wife of my providing, if you can  
O'rereach the angry Burgess, Sir, and bring  
His wisdom to the Gin, show me the way  
I'll help to lay the trap.  Quartf. 
Now thou art  
An honest hearted pimp, thou shalt for this  
Be drunk in Vine Dee, Rascal: I'll begin  
A Runlet to thee.  Plotw. 
Gentlemen lets in,  
I'll tell you my design; you, Salewit, must  
Transform yourself to a French Deacon. I  
have parts for Bright and Newcut too. Mischief  
Upon their absence.  Salew. 
we'll send for 'em.  Plot. 
And  
For Mr Timothy I have a project  
Shall make his father everlastingly  
Admire his wit, and ask him blessing.  Quart. 
Come,  
let's in and drink a health to our success.  Tim. 
I'm for no healths unless the glass be less.  Exeunt.   

ACTVS IIII.  

SCENA I.  Seathrift. Mrs. Seathrift. Mrs. Holland. Mrs. Scruple. Seath. 
I did commit her to your charge that you  
Might breed her, Mrs. Scruple, and do require  
Her at your hand. Here be fine tricks, indeed;  
My daughter Susan to be stolen a week,  
And you conceal it; you were of the plot,  
I do suspect you.  Ms Scru. 
Sir, will you but hear  
Me meekly?  Seath. 
No, I'll never trust again  
A woman with white eyes, that can take notes,  
And write a Comment on the Catechism.  
All your devotion's false; is't possible  
She could be gone without your knowledge?  Ms Scru. 
Will you  
Attend me, Ms Seathrift? If my husband  
To wean her from love courses, did not take  
More pains with her then with his Tuesday Lectures,  
And if I did not every day expound  
Some good things to her 'gainst the sin o'th' flesh,  
For fear of such temptations, to which frail girls  
Are very subject, let me never more  
Be thought fit to instruct young Gentlewomen,  
Or deal in Tent-stitch. Who ere 'twas that seduced her,  
She took my daughter Emlin's gown and ruff,  
And left her own clothes: and my Scholars say  
She often would write Letters.  Seath. 
Why 'tis right  
Some silenced Minister has got her: that I  
Should breed my daughter in a Conventicle!  Ms Seath. 
Pray husband be appeased.  Seat. 
You are a fool.  Ms Seath. 
You hear her Ms could not help it.  Seath. 
Nor  
Your son help being a fish.  Ms Holl. 
Why, Sir, was he  
The first that was abused by Captains?  Seath. 
Go  
You talk like prating Gossips.  Ms Holl. 
Gossips? slight  
What Gossips, Sir?  Ms Seath. 
What Gossips are we? speak.  Seath. 
I'll tell you since you'd know: my wife and you,  
Shrill Mrs. Holland, have two tongues, that when  
theyare in conjunction, are busier, and make  
More noise than country fairs, and utter more tales  
Than blind-folks, Midwives, Nurses. Then no show  
Though't be a Juggler scapes you. You did follow  
The Elephant so long, and King of Sweden,  
That people at last came in to see you. Then  
My son could not be made a Fish, but who  
Should I find there much taken with the sight  
But you two? I may now build Hospitals,  
Or give my money to Plantations. Exit Seath.  Ms Seath. 
let's follow him, come Mrs. Scruple.  Ms Holl. 
Just  
As your Sue left her Schoolmistress, my Pen  
Left me.  Ms Scru. 
They'll come again I warrant you.  Exeunt.  

SCENA II.  Plotwell. Aurelia. Plotw. 
SIster 'tis so projected, therefore make  
No more demurs, the life of both our fortunes  
Lies in your carriage of things well; think therefore  
Whither you will restore me, and advance  
Your own affairs, or else within this week  
Fly this your lodging, like unaccustomed sinners,  
And have your Coach-horses transformed to Rent,  
Have your apparel sold for properties,  
And you return to Cutwork. By this hand  
If you refuse all this must happen.  Aur. 
Well, Sir,  
Necessity which hath no Law, for once  
Shall make me o'th' conspiracy, and since  
We are left wholly to our wits, Let's show  
The power and virtue of 'em; if your Baneswright  
Can but persuade my Uncle, I will fit  
Him with a Bride.  Plotw. 
The Scene is laid already;  
I have transformed an English Poet into  
A fine French Teacher, who shall join your hands  
With a most learned legend out of Rabelais.  Aur. 
But for my true groom who you say comes hither  
For a disguised Knight, I shall think I wed  
His Father's Countinghouse, and go to bed  
To so much Bullion of a man. Faith I've  
No mind to him, brother, he hath not wit enough  
To make't a lawful marriage.  Plot. 
Y'are deceived,  
I'll undertake by one weeks Tutoring,  
And carrying him to Plays and Ordinaries,  
Engaging him in a quarrel or two, and making  
Some Captain beat him, to render him a most  
Accomplished Gallant. Or say he be borne, sister,  
Under the City planet, pray what wise Lady  
Desires to match a wise Knight? you'd marry some  
Philosopher now, that should every night  
Lie with you out of Aristotle, and lose  
Your maidenhead by Demonstration.  
Or some great statesman, before whom you must sit  
As silent and reserved as if your looks  
Had plots on foreign Princes, and must visit  
And dress yourself by Tacitus. What he wants  
In Naturals, his fortunes will make up  
In Honours, Pen; when he's once made a Lord,  
who'll be so saucy as to think he can  
Be impotent in wisdom? She that marries  
A fool, is an Hermaphrodite, the Man  
And wife too, sister. Besides 'tis now too late,  
He'll be here presently, and comes prepared  
For Hymen. I took up a footman for him,  
And left him under three tiremen's hands, besides  
Two Barbers.  Aur. 
Well, Sir, I must then accept him  
With all his imperfections, I have  
Procured a Sir john yonder.  Plotw 
Who is't?  Aur. 
One  
That preaches the next parish once a week Enter a Footman  
asleep for thirty pounds a year.  Foot. 
Here is  
A Knight desires your Ladyship will give  
Him audience.  Aur. 
'tis no Knight Ambassador?  Foot. 
He rather looks like a Knight o'th' Sun.  Pl. 
'tis He.  Aur. 
Let him come in.  Plot. 
If you be coy now, Pen, Ex. Foot.  
You spoil all.  Aur. 
Well, Sir, I'll be affable.   

SCENA III.  To them Timothy fantastically dressed, and a Footman. Plotw. 
HEre he comes.  Tim. 
Sirrah, wait me in the Hall,  
And let your feet stink there; your air's not fit,  
To be endured by Ladies.  Plotw. 
What quarrel with  
Your Footman, Sir?  Tim. 
Hang him, he casts a scent  
That drowns my perfumes, and is strong enough  
To cure the Mother or Palsy. Do I act  
A Knight well?  Plotw. 
This imperiousness becomes you  
Like a Knight newly dubbed, Sir.  Tim. 
What says the Lady?  Plotw. 
Speak lower, J've prepared her, show yourself  
A Courtier now she's yours.  Tim. 
If that be all  
I'll Court her as if some Courtier had begot me  
Ith' Gallery at a Masque.  Plotw. 
Madam, this Gentleman  
Desires to kiss your hands.  Tim. 
And lips too Lady.  Aur. 
Sir, you much honour both.  Tim. 
ay, I know that,  
Else I'd not kiss you. Yesterday I was  
In company with Ladies and they all  
Longed to be touched by me.  Aur. 
You cannot cure  
The Evil, Sir, nor have your lips the virtue  
To restore ruins, or make old Ladies young?  Tim. 
Faith all the virtue that they have, is that  
My lips are knighted. I am borne, sweet Lady,  
To a poor fortune that will keep myself,  
And Footman, as you see, to bear my sword  
In Cuerpo after me I can at Court,  
If I would show my gilt i'th' Presence, look  
After the rate of some five thousands  
Yearly in old rents, and were my Father once  
Well wrapped in cerecloth, I could fine for Sheriff.  Plotw. 
Heart you spoil all.  Tim. 
Why?  Plot. 
She verily believed  
y''had ne'er a father.  Aur. 
Lives your father, than Sir?  
That Gentleman told me he was dead.  Tim. 
'tis true,  
I had forgot myself, he was drowned, Lady,  
This morning, as he went to take possession  
Of a summer house and land in the Canaries.  Plotw. 
Now y'have recovered all.  Tim. 
D' you think I have  
Not wit enough to lie?  Plotw. 
Break your mind to her,  
She does expect it.  Tim. 
But Lady this is not  
The business which I came for.  Aur. 
I'm at leisure  
To hear your business, Sir.  Plotw. 
Mark that.  Tim. 
Indeed,  
Sweet Lady, I've a motion which was once  
Or twice this morning in my mouth, and then  
Slipped back again for fear.  Aur. 
coward's ne'er won  
Ladies, or Forts, Sir.  Tim. 
Say then I should feel  
Some motions, Lady, of affection; might  
A man repair Paul's with your heart, or put it  
Into a Tinderbox?  Aur. 
How mean you, Sir?  Tim. 
Why is your heart a stone, or flint?  Aur. 
Be plain, Sir,  
I understand you not.  Tim. 
Not understand me?  
Y'are the first Lady that ere put a man  
To speak plain English; some would understand  
Riddles, and signs; say I should love you, Lady?  Aur. 
There should be no love lost, Sir.  Tim. 
Say you so?  
Then by this air my teeth e'en water at you;  
I long to have some Offspring by you; we  
Shall have an excellent breed of wits; I mean  
My youngest son shall be a Poet; and  
My Daughters, like their Mother, every one  
A wench o'th' game. And for my eldest son,  
He shall be like me, and inherit. Therefore  
let's not defer our joys, but go to bed  
And multiply.  Aur. 
Soft, Sir, the Priest must first  
Discharge his office. I do not mean to marry Enter Dorcas out of her Puritan dress  
Like Ladies in New England, where they couple  
With no more ceremony than birds choose their Mate  
Upon St Valentine's day.  Dor. 
Madam the Preacher  
Is sent for to a Churching, and doth ask  
If you be ready, he shall lose, he says,  
His chrisom else.  Aur. 
O miracle! out of  
your little Ruff, Dorcas, and in the fashion?  
Dost thou hope to be saved?  Dor. 
Pray Madam do not  
Abuse me; I will tell you more anon.  Plotw. 
Tell him she's coming.  Aur. 
Sir, please you partake  
Of a slight banquet?  Pl. 
Just as you are sat Exit Dorcas.  
I'll steal the Priest in.  Tim. 
Do.  Pl. 
When you are joined,  
Be sure you do not oversee, but straight  
Retire to bed, she'll follow.  Tim. 
'tis not three  
o'clock i'th' afternoon.  Plotw. 
'tis but drawing  
Your Curtains and you do create your night.  
All times to Lovers and New married folks  
May be made dark.  Tim. 
I will then. By this Room  
She's a rare Lady. I do almost wish  
I could change sex, and that she might beget  
Children on me.  Plotw. 
Nay will you enter?  Tim. 
Lady,  
Pray will you show the way.  Plotw. 
Most City like,  
'Slid take her by the arm, and lead her in.  Tim. 
Your arm sweet Lady. Exeunt.   

SCENA IV.  Bright. Newcut. Br. 
BUt are you sure th' are they?  New. 
I'll not believe  
My treacherous eyes again, but trust some dog  
To guide me, if I did not see his Uncle  
Coming this way, and Baneswright with him.  Br. 
Who,  
The fellow that brings Love to banes, and banes  
To bare thighs 'bout the town?  New. 
The very same, Sir;  
The City Cupid that shoots arrows betwixt  
Party and party. All the difference is,  
He has his eyes, but they he brings together  
Sometimes do not see one another till  
Till they meet i'th' Church.  Br. 
What say you now if Warehouse  
Should in displeasure marry?  New. 
'tis so, this fellow  
In's company confirms me. 'tis the very business  
Why Plotwell has sent for us.  Br. 
Here they come.  
Prithee let's stand and overhear 'em.  New. 
Stand close then.   

SCENA. V.  Enter Warehouse. Baneswright. Ware-h. 
MAdam Aurelia is her name?  Ban. 
Her father  
Was, Sir, an Irish Baron, that undid  
Himself by housekeeping.  War. 
As for her birth  
I could wish it were meaner. As many Knights  
And Justices of peace as have been of  
The Family are reckoned into th' portion;  
She'll still be naming of her Ancestors,  
Ask Jointure by the Herald's book, and I  
That have no Coat, nor can show azure Lions,  
In Fields of Argent, shall be scorned; she'll think  
Her Honour wronged to match a man that hath  
No Scutcheons but them of his Company,  
Which once a year do serve to trim a Lighter  
To Westminster and back again.  Ban. 
You are  
Mistaken, Sir. This Lady as she is  
Descended of a great house, so she hath  
No Dowry but her Arms. She can bring only  
Some leopard's heads, or strange beasts, which you know  
Being but Beasts, let them derive themselves  
From Monsters in the Globe, and lineally  
Proceed from Hercules' labours, they will never  
Advance her to a husband equal to  
herself in birth, that can give Beasts too. She  
Aims only to match one that can maintain  
Her some way to her state. She is possessed  
What streams of gold you flow in, Sir,  Ware-h. 
But can she  
Affect my age?  Banes. 
I asked her that; and told her  
You were about some threescore, Sir, and ten;  
But were as lusty as one of twenty, (or  
An aged Eunuch)  Ware-h. 
And what replied she?  Bans. 
she,  
Like a true Lucrece, answered it was fit  
For them to Marry by the Church book, who  
Came there to cool themselves; But to a Mind  
Chaste and endued with virtue, age did turn  
Love into Reverence.  Br. 
Or Sir Reverence.  New. 
prithee observe.  Ware-h. 
Is she so virtuous then?  Banes. 
'Tis all the fault she has, she will outpray  
A Preacher at St Antlins; and divides  
The day in exercise; I did commend  
A great Precisian to her for her woman.  
Who tells me that her Lady makes her quilt  
Her smocks before for kneeling.  Ware-h. 
Excellent Creature!  Banes. 
Then, Sir, she is so modest.  Ware-h. 
Too.  Banes. 
The least  
Obscene word shames her, a lascivious Figure  
Makes her do penance; and she maintains the Law  
Which forbids fornication, doth extend  
To kissing too.  Ware-h. 
I think the time an age  
Till the solemnity be passed.  Banes. 
I have  
Prepared her, Sir, and have so set you out!  
Besides, I told her how you had cast of  
Your Nephew, and to leave no doubt that you  
Would ere be reconciled, before she went  
To Church would settle your estate on her,  
And on the Heirs of her begotten.  Ware-h. 
To make all sure,  
we'll call upon my Lawyer by the way,  
And take him with us.  Banes. 
you must be married, Sir,  
At the French Church, I have bespoke the Priest;  
One that will join you i'th' right Geneva form,  
Without a licence.  Ware-h. 
But may a man  
Wed in a strange tongue?  Banes. 
I have brought together  
Some in Italian, Sir, the Language doth  
Not change the substance of the Match; you know  
No licence will be granted, all the Offices  
Are beforehand bribed by your Nephew.  Ware-h. 
Well,  
let's to the Lady straight, to cross him, I  
Would marry an Arabian, and be at charge  
To keep one to interpret, or be married  
In China Language, or the tongue that's spoke Exit Ware. and Banes.  
By the great Cham.  Br. 
Now Newcut, you perceive  
My divination's true, this fellow did  
Portend a wedding.  New. 
Plague o'th' prognostication.  
who'd think that Madam were the Party?  Br. 
Oh Sir,  
she'll call this wit to wed his bags, and lie  
With some Platonic servant.  New. 
What if we  
Before we go to Plotwell, went to her  
And strived to dissuade her?  Br. 
let's make haste,  
They'll be before us else.  Exeunt.  

SCENA. VI.  Enter Timothy unbuttoning himself. Aurelia. Plotwell. Dorcas. Footman. Tim. 
BY this hand Lady you shall not deny me:  
Since we are coupled, I shall think the Priest  
Has not done all, as long as I'm a Virgin.  Aur. 
Will you not stay till night, Sir?  Tim. 
Night? No faith,  
I've sworn to get my first child by day, you may  
Be quick by night.  Plot. 
Madam, your Knight speaks reason.  Tim. 
I will both speak and do it.  Aur. 
Well Sir, since  
There is no remedy, your beds prepared;  
By that time you are laid I'll come, Mean time  
I'll pray that Gentleman to conduct you, There's  
My Footman to pluck of your stockings.  Plotw. 
Come Sir.  Tim. 
Sweet Lady stay not long.  Plot. 
I'll promise for her.  Dor. 
Faith I admire your temperance to let Ex. Tim. Pl. & Footman.  
Your Bridegroom go to bed and you not follow.  
Were I in your case I should ha' gone first,  
And warmed his place.  Aur. 
Well wench but that thou hast  
Revealed thyself unto me, I'd admire  
To hear a Saint talk thus. To one that knows not  
The Mystery of thy strange conversion, Thou  
Wouldst seem a Legend.  Dor. 
Faith I have told you all,  
Both why I left my schoolmistress, who taught me  
To confute Curling-Irons, and why I put  
myself on this adventure.  Aur. 
Well wench my brother  
Has had his plots on me, and I'll contribute  
My help to work thy honest Ones on him.  
Do but perform thy task well and thou winnest him.  Dor 
Let me alone; never was man so fitted Enter Footman.  
With a chaste Bride, as I will fit his Uncle. Exit.  Foot. 
Madam your Knight doth call most fiercely for you.  Aur. 
Prithee, go tell him some business keeps me yet,  
And bid him stay himself with this kiss.   

SCENA. VII.  As they kiss. Enter to them Bright. Newcut. Br. 
BY your leave Madam, what for practice' sake  
Kissing your woman? Lord how a lady's lips  
Hate Idleness, and will be busied, when  
The rest lies fallow, And rather than want action  
Be kind within themselves, an't be t'enjoy,  
But the poor pleasure of contemplation!  New. 
And how do you find her Madam?  Aur. 
Stay wench.  
Does it not grieve you now, and make you sigh,  New. 
Lord,  
And very passionately accuse Nature,  
And say she was too hard to make your woman  
Able to kiss you only and do no more?  Br. 
is it not pity but besides the gift  
Of making caudles, and using of her Pencil,  
She had the trick o'th' other sex?  Aur. 
methinks  
Your own good breeding might instruct you that  
My house is not a new Foundation, where  
You might, paying the rate, approach, be rude,  
Give freedom to your unwashed Mouths.  Dor. 
My Lady  
Keeps no poor Nuns that sin for victuals, for you,  
With whom this dead vacation you may trade  
For old silk stockings and half shirts. They say  
You do offend o'th' score, and sin in chalk,  
And the dumb walls complain you are behind  
in pension; so that your distressed Vestals,  
Are fain to foot their stockings, pay the Brewer,  
And landlords-rent in womankind, and long  
More earnestly for the Term than Norfolk Lawyers.  Br. 
Why you have got a second, Lady, your woman  
Doth speak good Country language.  New. 
Offers at wit,  
And shows teeth for a jest.  Br. 
We hear you are  
To marry an old Citizen.  Aur. 
Then surely  
You were not deaf.  New. 
And do you mean his age,  
Which hath seen all the Kingdom buried thrice,  
To whom the heat of August is December; Ex. Dorcas.  
Who, were he but in Italy would save  
The charge of Marble vaults, and cool the air  
Better than ventiducts, shall freeze between  
Your melting arms? Do but consider, he  
But marries you as he would do his furs,  
To keep him warm.  Aur. 
But he is rich, Sir.  Br. 
Then,  
In wedding him you wed more infirmities  
Than ever Galen wrote of; He has pains  
That put the Doctors to new experiments.  
Half his diseases in the City bill  
Kill hundreds weekly. Alone Hospital  
Were but enough for him.  New. 
Besides,  
He has a cough that nightly drowns the Bellman;  
Calls up his Family; all his neighbours rise  
And go by it, as by the Chimes and Clock.  
Not four loam walls, nor saw dust put between,  
Can dead it.  Aur. 
Yet he still is rich.  Br. 
if this  
Cannot affright you, but that you will needs  
Be blind to wholesome council, and will marry  
One who by th' course of Nature ought t' have been  
Rotten before the Queen's time, and in justice  
Should now have been some threescore years a Ghost,  
Let pity move you; in this Match you quite  
destroy the hopes and fortunes of a Gentleman,  
For whom had his penurious Uncle starved  
And pined himself his whole life, to increase  
The riches he deserves t' inherit it  
Had been his duty.  Aur 
You mean his Nephew Plotwell;  
A prodigal young man; one whom the good  
Old man his Uncle kept to th' Inns of Court,  
And would in time ha' made him barrister;  
And raised him to his satin Cap, and Biggin,  
In which he might ha' sold his breath far dearer,  
And let his tongue out at a greater price,  
Than some their Manors. But he did neglect  
These thriving means; followed his loose companions,  
His Brights and Newcuts; two, they say, that live  
By the new Heresy Platonic Love.  
Can take up silks upon their strengths, and pay  
Their Mercer with an Infant.  Br. 
Newcut!  New. 
ay,  
I do observe her Character; well than  
You are resolved to marry?  Aur. 
Were the Man  
A statue, so it were a golden one,  
I'd have him.  Br. 
Pray then take along to Church  
These few good wishes. May your husband prove  
So jealous to suspect that when you drink  
To any man you kiss the place where his  
Lips were before, and so pledge meetings. Let him  
Think you do Cuckold him by looks; and let him  
Each night, before you go to rest, administer  
A solemn oath, that all your thoughts were chaste  
That day, and that you sleep with all your hairs.  New. 
And which is worse, let him forget he lay  
With you himself, before some Magistrate  
Swear 'twas some other, and have it believed  
Upon Record.  Pl. 
Sister J've left your Bridegroom,  
Under this key locked in, t' embrace your pillow. Enter Plotw.  
Sure he has eat Eringoes, he's as hot—  
He was about to fetch you in his shirt.  Br. 
How's this? his sister?  New 
I conceive not this.  Pl. 
My Noble friends, you wonder now to hear  
Me call her sister.  Br. 
Faith, Sir, we wonder more  
She should be married?  New. 
if'ft be your sister, we  
Have laboured her she should not match her Uncle,  
And bring forth Riddles, Children that should be  
Nephews to their Father, and to their Uncle sons.  Plotw. 
I laugh now at your ignorance: why these  
Are projects, Gentlemen; fine gins, and projects.  
Did Roseclap's boy come to you?  Br. 
Yes.  Pl. 
I have  
A rare Scene for you.  New. 
The boy told us you were  
Upon a stratagem.  Plotw. 
I've sent for Roseclap,  
And Captain Quartfield to be here. I have  
Put Salewit into orders, he's inducted  
Into the French Church, you must all have parts;  Br. 
Prithee speak out of Clouds.  Pl. 
By this good light  
'twere Justice now to let you both die simple,  
For leaving us so scurvily.  New. 
We were  
Sent for in haste by th' Benchers, to contribute  
To one of'em that's Reader.  Plotw. 
Come with me,  
I'll tell you then. But first I'll show you a sight  
Much stranger than the Fish.  Dor. 
Madam, here's Barneswright  
And an old Merchant do desire access. Enter Dorcas.  Aur. 
Bid 'em come in.  Pl. 
Gentlemen, fall off. Ex. Dorcas.  
If we be seen the plot is spoilt. Sister,  
Now look you do your part well.  Aur. 
I am perfect.  Exit Plot. Br. Newc.  

SCENA VIII.  To Her Baneswright. Warehouse. Dorcas. Banes. 
MAdam, this is the Gentleman I mentioned,  
I've brought him here, according to my function  
To give you both an interview; if you  
Be ready, the Church and Priest are.  Aur. 
Is this, Sir,  
The wealthy Merchant?  Banes. 
Madam, this is He  
That if you'll wear the price of Baronies,  
Or live at Cleopatra's rate can keep you.  Aur. 
Come you a Suitor, Sir, to me?  Ware-h. 
Yes Lady,  
I did employ my speaker there, who hath  
I hope informed you with my purpose.  Aur. 
Surely,  
Your speaker then hath erred; I understood  
Him for my woman, if you can like her, Sir,  
It being for aught I hear, all one to you,  
I've wooed her for you. But for myself, could you  
Endow me with the stream that ebbs and flows  
In waves of gold, I hope you do not think  
I'd so much stain my birth as to be bought  
To match into a Company. Sir, plainly,  
I'm matched already.  Ware-h. 
Baneswright, did not you  
Tell me she'd have me?  Banesw. 
Faith, Sir, I have ears  
That might deceive me, but I did dream waking  
If she were not the party. Madam, pray you  
One word in private.  Aur. 
I'll prevent you; 'tis true,  
My Brother laid the Scene for me, but since  
W'have changed the plot, and 'tis contrived, my woman  
Shall undertake my part.  Ban. 
I am instructed.  
I was mistaken, Sir, indeed the Lady  
Spoke to me for her Gentlewoman. How  
Do you affect her, Sir? you see she is  
As handsome as her Lady, and her birth  
Not being so high she will more size with you.  Ware-h. 
I say, I like her best. Her Lady has  
Too much great house in her.  Ban. 
'tis right, this you  
May govern as you list. I'll motion't: Lady,  
Pray pardon our mistake, indeed our Errand  
Was chiefly to your Gentlewoman.  Aur. 
Sir,  
She's one whose fortune I so much intend,  
And yours, Sir, are so fair, that though there be  
Much disproportion in your age, yet I  
Will overrule her, and she shall refer  
herself to be disposed by me.  Ware-h. 
You much  
Oblige me, Madam.  Aur. 
Dorcas, this is the Merchant  
I have provided for you, he is old,  
But he has that will make him young, much Gold.  Dor. 
Madam, but that I should offend against  
Your care as well as my preferment, I de  
Have more experience of the Man, I mean  
To make my husband. At first sight to marry,  
Must argue me of lightness.  Aur. 
Princes, Dorcas,  
Do woo by pictures, and Ambassadors,  
And match in absent Ceremonies.  Dor. 
But  
You look for some great portion, Sir.  Wareh. 
Fair Mistress,  
Your virtues are to me a wealthy Dowry.  
And if you love me I shall think you bring  
More than the Indies.  Dor. 
But, Sir, 't may be  
You'll be against my course of life. I love  
Retirement, must have times for my Devotion,  
Am little used to company, and hate  
The vanity of visits.  Ware-h. 
This makes me  
Love you the more.  Dor. 
Then I shall never trust you  
To go to sea, and leave me; I shall dream  
Of nought but storms, and Pirates. Every wind  
Will break my sleep.  War. 
I'll stay at home.  Dor. 
Sir, there  
Is one thing more; I hear you have a Nephew,  
You mean to make your Heir. I hope you will  
Settle some Jointure on me.  War. 
He's so lost  
In my intents that to revenge myself,  
I take this course. But to remove your doubts,  
I've brought my Lawyer with blank deeds,  
He shall put in your Name, and I, before  
We go to Church will seal'em.  Dorc. 
On these terms  
Where is your Priest, Sir?  War. 
He expects me at  
The French Church, Mistress.  Aur. 
Come, when you have sealed, Sir,  
I'll bear a part in the solemnity.  Exeunt.   

ACTVS V.  

SCENA I.  Plotwell. Aurelia. Bright. Newcut. Quartfield. Salewit. Roseclap. two Footmen. cipher. Plotw. 
WEll Sister, by this hand I was afraid  
You had marred all; but I am well content  
You have outreached me. If she do act it well now,  
By jove I'll have her.  Aur. 
She hath studied all  
Her Cues already.  Plotw. 
Gentlemen, how do  
You like the project?  Br. 
Theirs was dull and cold  
Compared to ours.  New. 
Some Poet will steal from us  
And bring't into a Comedy.  Quartf. 
The jest  
Will more inspire then sack.  Plotw. 
I have got cipher  
Over to our side too; He has been up and down Ent. Salewit  
To invite Guests to th' wedding. How now Salewit, like a Curate  
Are they gone home?  Salew. 
Yes faith, for better, for worse;  
I've read a Fiction out of Rabelais to 'em,  
In a religious tone, which he believes  
For good French Liturgy. When I had done  
There came a Christening.  Plotw. 
And didst thou baptize  
Out of thy Rabelais too?  Salew. 
No faith, I left 'em  
In expectation of their Pastor.  Br. 
Newcut,  
Who does he look like in that dress?  New. 
Hum? why  
Like a Geneva Weaver, in black, who left  
The Loom and entered into th' Ministry  
For conscience sake.  Plotw. 
Well Gentlemen you all  
Do know your parts, you Captain, and Baneswright  
Go get your properties. For you two, These  
Two Mules shall carry you in greater state,  
And more ease than the Fistula. You sister  
We'll leave unto your Knight, to come anon.  
Roseclap and I will thither straight. You cipher  
Know what you have to do?  Sale. 
And as for me  
I'm an invited Guest, and am to bless  
The Venison in French, or in a Grace  
Of broken English.  Quartf. 
Before we do divide  
Our Army, let us dip our Rosemaries  
In one rich bowl of sack to this brave girl,  
And to the Gentleman that was my Fish.  All. 
Agreed, Agreed.  Plotw. 
Captain you shall dip first.  Exeunt.  

SCENA II.  Warehouse. Dorcas. 
MY dearest Dorcas, welcome. Here you see  
The house you must be mistress of, which with  
This kiss I do confirm unto you.  Dor. 
Forbear, Sir.  Wareh. 
How wife, refuse to kiss me?  Dor. 
Yes, unless  
A sweeter air came from you; y' have turned my stomach.  
I wonder you can be so rude to ask me,  
Knowing your Lungs are perished.  Wareh. 
This is rare.  
That I should live to this great age, and never  
Till now know I was rotten!  Dor. 
I shall never  
Endure your Conversation; I hope you have  
Contrived two Beds, two Chambers, and two Tables;  
It is an Article that I should live,  
Retired, that is, a part.  Wareh. 
But pray you wife  
Are you in earnest.  Dor. 
D'you think I'll jest with age?  War. 
Will you not lie with me then?  Dor. 
Did ever Man  
Of your hairs ask such questions? I do blush  
At your unreasonableness.  War. 
Nay then—  Dor. 
Is't fit I should be buried?  Wareh. 
I reach you not.  Dor. 
Why to lie with you were a direct Emblem  
Of going to my grave.  Wareh. 
I understand you.  Dor. 
I'll have your picture set in my wedding ring  
For a Death's head.  Wareh. 
I do conceive you.  Dor. 
I'd  
Rather lie with an ancient Tomb, or embrace  
An Ancestor than you. D'you think I'll come  
Between your winding sheets? For what? to hear you  
Depart all night, and fetch your last groan? and  
Ith' morning find a Deluge on the floor,  
Your Entrails floating, and half my husband spit  
Upon the Arras?  Ware. 
I am married—  Dor. 
Then,  
For your abilities, should twelve good women  
Sit on these reverend locks, and on your heat,  
And natural appetite, they would just find you  
As youthful as a Coffin, and as hot  
As th' sultry winter that froze over the Thames;  
They say the hard time did begin from you.  Wareh. 
Good, I am made the curse of Watermen.  Dor. 
Your humours come frost from you, and your nose  
Hath icicles in june.  War. 
Assist me patience.  
Why hear you mistress, you that have a fever,  
And Dog days in your blood, if you knew this  
Why did you marry me?  Dor. 
Ha, ha, ha.  War. 
She laughs.  Dor. 
That your experienced ache, that hath felt springs  
And falls this forty year, should be so dull  
To think I have not them that shall supply  
Your cold defects.  War. 
You have your servants then?  
And I am forked? hum?  Dor. 
Do you think  
A woman young, high in her blood—.  War. 
And hot  
As Goats, or Marmosites—  Dor. 
Apt to take flame at  
Every temptation—  War. 
And to kindle at  
The picture of a Man—  Dor. 
Would wed dust, ashes,  
A Monument, unless she were—  War. 
Cracked, tried,  
And broken up?—  Dor. 
Right, Sir, or lacked a Cloak?  War. 
Mischief and Hell, and was there none to make  
Your cloak but I?  Dor. 
Not so well lined.  War. 
O you  
Stayed for a wealthy Cuckold, your tame beast  
Must have his guilded horns.  Dor. 
Yes, Sir, Besides  
Your age being impotent, you would I knew  
In conscience wink at my stolen helps, if I  
Took comfort from abroad.  War. 
Yes, yes, yes, yes,  
You shall be comforted, I will maintain  
A Stallion for you.  Dor. 
I will have friends come to me  
So you'll conceal.  War. 
Alas, I'll be your Pander;  
Deliver letters for you, and keep the door.  Dor. 
I'll have a woman shall do that.  War. 
O impudence!  
Unheard of impudence!  Dor. 
Then, Sir, I'll look  
Your Coffers shall maintain me at my rate.  War. 
How's that?  Dor. 
Why like a Lady; for I do mean  
To have you Knighted.  War. 
I shall rise to honour.  Dor. 
D'you think I'll have your Factor move before me,  
Like a Device stirred by a wire, or like  
Some grave Clock wound up to a regular pace?  War. 
No, you shall have your Usher, Dame, to stalk  
Before you like a buskined Prologue, in  
A stately, high, majestic motion, bare.  Dor. 
I do expect it; yes, Sir, and my Coach,  
Six horses, and Postilion; four are fit  
For them that have a charge of Children; you  
And I shall never have any.  War. 
If we have,  
All Middlesex is Father.  Dor. 
Then I'll have  
My Footman to run by me when I visit,  
Or take the air sometimes in Hyde-park.  War. 
You,  
Besides being chaste, are good at Races too?  
You can be a jockey for a need?  Dor. 
Y'are pleasant, Sir.  War. 
Why hark you, hark you, Mistress, you told me  
You loved retirement, loved not visits, and bargained  
I should not carry you abroad.  Dor. 
You? no;  
Is't fit I should be seen at Court with you?  
Such an odd sight as you, would make the Ladies  
Have melancholy thoughts.  War. 
You bound me too  
I should not go to Sea, you loved me so  
You could not be without me.  Dor. 
Not if you stayed  
Above a year; for should I, in a long voyage,  
Prove fruitful, I should want a father to  
The Infant.  War. 
Most politicly kind,  
And like a Whore perfect i'th' mystery.  
It is beyond my sufferance.  Dor. 
Pray, Sir, vex,  
I'll in, and see your Jewels, and make choice  
Of some for every day, and some to wear Exit.  
At Masques.  War. 
'tis very good. Two days.  
Of this I shall grow mad, or, to redeem  
myself, commit some outrage— O— O— O.   

SCENA III.  To him Plotwell. and Roseclap. Plotw. 
SIr, I am sorry such a light offence  
Should make such deep impressions in you; But that  
which more afflicts me then the loss of my  
Great hopes, is, that y'are likely to be abused, Sir,  
Strangely abused, Sir, by one Baneswright. I hear  
You are to marry.  War. 
Did you hear so?  Plotw. 
Madam Aurelia's woman.  War. 
What of her, Sir?  Plotw. 
Why, Sir, I thought it duty to inform you,  
That you were better match a ruind Bawd;  
One ten times cured by sweating, and the Tub,  
Or pained now with her fiftieth ache, whom not  
The power of Usquebaugh, or heat of fevers  
Quickens enough to wish; one of such looks,  
That Judges of Assize, without more proof,  
Suspect, arraign, and burn for witchcraft.  War. 
Why pray?  Plotw. 
For she being past all motions, impotence  
Will be a kind of chastity, and you  
Might have her to yourself, but here is one  
Knows this to be—  War. 
An arrant whore?  Ros. 
I see  
You have heard of her, Sir; Indeed she has  
Done penance thrice.  War. 
How say you, penance?  Rosc. 
Yes, Sir,  
And should have suffered—  War. 
Carting should she not?  Ros. 
The Marshal had her, Sir.  War. 
I sweat, I sweat.  Ros. 
She's of known practice, Sir: the clothes she wears  
Are but her quarter's sins, she has no linen  
But what she first offends for.  War. 
O blessed Heaven  
Look down upon me.  Plotw. 
Nay, Sir, which is more,  
She has three children living, has had four.  War. 
How? Children? Children say you?  Plot. 
Ask him Sir,  
One by a French Man.  Ros. 
Another by a Dutch.  Plotw. 
A third, Sir, by a moor; borne of two colours.  
Just like a sergeant's Man.  War. 
Why she has known then  
All Tongues and Nations.  Ros. 
She has been lain with farther  
Than ever Coryat travailed, and lain in  
By two parts of the Map, Afrique, and Europe.  
As if the State maintained her to allay  
The heat of Foreigners.  War. 
O— O— O— O.  Plotw. 
What ail you, Sir?  War. 
O Nephew I am not well,  
I am not well.  Plot. 
I hope you are not married.  War. 
It is too true.  Ros. 
God help you then.  War. 
Amen;  
Nephew forgive me.  Ros. 
Alas good Gentleman.  Plot. 
Would you trust Baneswright, Sir?  War. 
Nephew in Hell  
There's not a torment for him; O that I could  
But see that cheating Rogue upon the rack now:  
I'd give a thousand pound for every stretch,  
That should enlarge the Rogue through all his joints,  
And but just show him hell, and then recall  
His broking soul, and give him strength to suffer  
His torture often; I would have the Rascal  
Think hanging a relief, and be as long  
A dying as a chopped Eel, that the Devil  
Might have his soul by pieces. who's here? a Sailor?  Enter cipher like a Sailor.  

SCENA. IV.  To them cipher. Cyph. 
ARe you, Sir, Warehouse, the rich Merchant?  war. 
Sir,  
My name is Warehouse.  Cy. 
Then you are not, Sir,  
So rich by two ships as you were.  War. 
How mean you?  Cyph. 
Your two ships, Sir, that were now coming home  
From Ormus are both cast away; the wrack  
And burden on the place was valued at  
Some forty thousand pound. All the men perished,  
By th' violence of the storm, only myself  
Preserved my life by swimming, till a ship  
Of Bristol took me up, and brought me home  
To be the sad reporter.  War. 
Was nothing saved?  Cyph. 
Two small Casks; one of blue Figs, the other  
Of pickled Mushrooms; which served me for bladders,  
And kept me up from sinking. 'twas a storm  
Which, Sir, I will describe to you. The Winds  
Rose of a sudden with that tempestuous force—  War. 
Prithee no more; I have heard too much. Would I  
Had been i'th' tempest.  Cyph. 
Good your worship give  
A poor seafaring man your charity,  
To carry me back again. I'm come above  
A hundred mile to tell you this.  War. 
Go in,  
And let my Factor if he be come in,  
Reward thee, stay and sup to.  Cyph. 
Thank your Worship.  War. 
Why should I not now hang myself? Or if Ex. Cyp.  
It be a fate that will more hide itself,  
And keep me from discredit, tie some weight  
About my neck, to sink me to the bottom  
Oth' Thames, not to be found, to keep my body,  
From rising up and telling tales. Two wracks?  
And both worth forty thousand pound there? why  
That landed here, were worth an hundred. I  
Will drown myself; I nothing have to do  
Now in this world but drown myself.  Plotw. 
Fie these  
Are desperate resolutions. Take heart, Sir,  
There may be ways yet to relieve you.  War. 
How?  Plotw. 
Why for your lost ships, say, Sir, I should bring  
Two o'th' Assurance Office that should warrant  
Their safe return, 'tis not known yet. Would you  
Give three parts to secure the fourth?  War. 
I'd give  
Ten to secure one.  Plotw. 
Well, Sir, and for your Wife,  
Say I should prove it were no lawful match;  
And that she is another man's? you'd take  
the piece of service well.  War. 
Yes, and repent  
That when I had so good an Heir begot  
Unto my hand, I was so rash to aim  
At one of my own dotage.  Plot. 
Say no more, Sir,  
But keep the Sailor that he stir not. we'll Exit Plotwell & Roscl.  
About it straight.  War. 
How much I was deceived  
To think ill of my Nephew. In whose revenge  
I see the heaven's frown on me; Seas and Winds  
Swell and rage for him against me. But I will  
Appease their furies, and be reconciled.   

SCENA. V.  To him Sea-thrift. Mrs. Sea-thrift. Ms Holland. Mrs. Scruple. Ms Sea. 
MUch joy to you, Sir, you have made quick dispatch  
I like a man that can love, woo, & wed,  
All in an hour, my husband was so long  
A getting me, so many friends consents  
Were to be asked, that when we came to Church  
'twas not a Marriage, but our times were out,  
And we were there made free of one another.  Ms Holl. 
I looked to find you a-bed, and a young Sheriff  
Begot by this. My husband, when I came  
From Church, by this time had his caudle; I  
Had not a Garter left, nor he a point.  Ms Scru. 
Surely all that my husband did the first  
Night we were married, was to call for one  
Of his wrought Caps more, to allay his Rheum.  Ms Holl. 
We hear y'have matched a Courtier, Sir, a Gallant;  
One that can spring fire in your Blood, and dart  
Fresh flames into you.  Ms Sea. 
Sir, you are not merry.  
methinks you do not look as you were married.  Ms Holl. 
You rather look as you had lost your Love.  Ms Scru. 
Or, else as if your Spouse Sir, had rebuked you  Sea. 
How is it, Sir? you feel have brought along  
My Fiddlers with me; my Wife and Mrs. Holland  
Are good wind Instruments. 'tis enough for me  
To put on sadness.  War. 
You, Sir, have no cause.  Seath. 
Not I? ask Mrs. Scruple. I have lost  
My Daughter, Sir she's stolen. Then, Sir, I have  
A spendthrift to my son.  Warch. 
These are felicities  
Compared to me. You have not matched a Whore, Sir,  
Nor lost two ships at sea.  Sea. 
Nor you, I hope.  War. 
Truth is you are my friends. I am abused,  
Grossly fetched over. I have matched a Stews;  
The notedst woman o'th' Town.  Ms Seath. 
Indeed I heard  
She was a Chambermaid.  Ms Holl. 
And they by their place,  
Do wait upon the Lady, but belong  
Unto the Lord.  Sea. 
But is this true?  War. 
Here was  
My Nephew just now, and one Roseclap, who tell me  
She has three Children living; one dapple grey,  
Half moor, half English. Knows as many men  
As she that sinned by th' Calendar, and divided  
The nights o'th' year with several men.  Sea. 
Bless me goodness!  War. 
Then like a mad condemned to all misfortunes,  
I have estated her in all I have.  Sea. 
How?  War. 
Under hand & seal, Sir, irrecoverably.  Enter Salewit.  

SCENA. VI.  To them Salewit. Ms Holl. 
LOok Mrs. Scruple here's your husband.  Sale. 
be  
The leave of the fair Company.  Ms Scrup. 
My Husband?  
His cold keeps him at home. surely I take  
This to be some Dutch Elder.  Sal. 
Were is  
The Breed an bridegroom? Oh, Monsieur, I'm com't  
To give you joy, and bless your Capòn; were  
Is your fair Breed?  War. 
O Monsieur, you have joined me  
To a chaste Virgin. Would when I came to you  
Y' had used your Ceremonies about my Funeral.  Sal. 
funeral? Is your Breed dead?  War. 
Would she were.  
I'd double your Fee, Monsieur, to bury her.  Sal. 
Ee can but little English.  War. 
No, I see  
You are but new come over.  Sal. 
Dover? Tere  
'e landed.  War. 
I, Sir, pray walk in; that door  
Will land you in my dining room.  Sal. 
Ee thank you. Exit.  War. 
This is the Priest that married us.  Sea. 
This is  
A Frenchman is't not?  War. 
'twas at the French Church.   

SCENA VII.  Enter to them two Footmen bearing the Frame of a great Picture. Curtains drawn. 1 Foot. 
SEt'em down gently, so.  2 Foo. 
They make me sweat.  
Pictures quoth you? slight they have weight enough  
To be the Parties.  1 Foot. 
My Lady, Sir, has sent  
A Present to your wife.  War. 
What Lady pray?  1 Foot. 
Madam Aurelia, Sir.  War. 
Oh—  2 Foot. 
Sir, they are  
A brace of Pictures with which my Lady prays  
She will adorn her Chamber.  Ware. 
Male Pictures pray,  
Or Female?  1 Foot. 
Why d'you ask?  Ware-h. 
Because methinks  
It should be Mars and Venus in a Net,  
Aretine's postures, or a naked Nymph,  
Lying asleep, and some lascivious satire  
Taking her lineaments. These are pictures which  
Delight my wife.  2 Foot. 
These are Night-pieces, Sir,  Ms Holl. 
Lord how I long to see'em? I have at home  
The finest ravished Lucrece!  Ms Scru. 
So have I  
The finest fall of Babylon! There is  
A fat Monk spewing Churches, save your presence.  Ms Holl. 
Pray will you open 'em.  1 Foot. 
My Lady charged us  
None should have sight of 'em, Sir, but your wife.  War. 
Because you make so dainty, I will see'em.  2 Foot. 
'tis out of our Commission.  War. 
But not of mine. Draws the Curtain within are discovered Bright. & Newcut.  
Hell and damnation!  1 Foot. 
How d'you like 'em, Sir?  Ms Holl. 
Look they are pictured in their clothes.  Ms Sea. 
They stir too.  2 Foot. 
Sir, they are drawn to life; a Master's Hand  
Went to 'em, I assure you.  War. 
Out Varlets, Bawds,  
Panders, avoid my house. O Devil! are you They come out.  
My wife's Night-pieces?  Br. 
Sir, you are rude, uncivil,  
And would be beaten.  New. 
We cannot come in private  
On business to your wife, but you must be  
Inquisitive Sir? Thank God 'tis in your own house,  
The place protects you.  Br. 
If such an Insolence  
Scape unrevenged, henceforth no Ladies shall Enter Dor.  
Have secret servants.  New. 
Here she comes, we'll ask  
If she gave you Commission to be so bold.  War. 
Why this is far beyond example rare.  
Now I conceive what is Platonic Love,  
'tis to have men like Pictures brought disguised,  
To Cuckold us with virtue. They whisper.   

SCENA VIII.  To them Dorcas. Dor. 
HE would not offer't would he?  Br. 
We have been  
In danger to be searched; hereafter we  
Must first be questioned by an Officer,  
And bring it under hands we are no Men,  
Or have nought dangerous about us, before  
We shall obtain access.  New. 
We do expect  
In time your Husband to preserve you chaste,  
Should keep you with a guard of Eunuchs; or  
Confine you, like Italians, to a room  
Where no male Beast is pictured, lest the sight  
Of aught that can beget, should stir desires.  Dor. 
I mar'le, Sir, who did licence you to pry,  
Or spy out any friends that come to me;  
It shows an unbred Curiosity;  
Which I'll correct hereafter, you will dare  
To break up Letters shortly, and examine  
My tailor, lest when he brings home my gown  
There be a Man in't. I'll have whom I list,  
In what disguise I list, and when I list,  
And not have your four eyes so saucy, to peep,  
As if you by prevention meant to kill  
A Basilisk.  War. 
Mistress, do what you list,  
Send for your Couch out, lie with your Gallants there  
Before us all. Or if you have a mind  
To fellows that can lift weights, I can call  
Two Footmen too:  Sea. 
You are too patient, Sir.  
Send for the Marshal, and discharge your house.  Ms Sea. 
Truly a handsome woman, what pity 'tis  
She is not honest?  Ms Holl. 
Two proper Gentlemen too.  
Lord that such Pictures might be sent to me.   

SCENA ULTIMA.  Enter to them Plotwell and Roseclap. with Baneswright and Quartfield disguised. War. 
O Nephew welcome to my ransom; here  
My house is made a new Erection; Gallants  
Are brought in varied forms. Had I not looked  
By providence into that frame, These two  
Had been conveyed for Night-pieces and Lantskips  
Into my chaste Bride's chamber. Till now she took  
And let herself out; now she will be able  
To hire, and buy Offenders.  Plot. 
I'll ease you, Sir.  
We Two have made a full discovery of her.  Ros. 
She's married to another man, Sir.  War. 
Good.  
Nephew thou art my blessed Angel: who  
Are these two?  Plotw. 
Two that will secure your Ships;  
Sent by the Office. Seal you, Sir, Th' have brought  
Th' Assurance with'em.  War. 
Nephew thou wert borne  
To be my dear preserver  Plotw. 
It is duty, Sir,  
To help you out with your misfortunes. Gentlemen,  
Produce your Instruments. Uncle put your seal, They subscribe seal & deliver interchangeably  
And write your name here, they will do the like  
To the other parchment. So, now deliver.  War. 
I do deliver this as my Act and Deed.  Ban. Quart. 
And we this as our Act and Deed.  Pl. 
Pray Gentlemen  
Be witness here. Upon a doubtful Rumour  
Of two Ships wracked as they returned from Ormus,  
My Uncle Covenants to give three parts  
To have the fourth secured. And these two here Sea. Ros Br. New. subscribe as witnesses.  
As Delegates of the Office, undertake  
At that rate to assure them. Uncle now  
Call forth the Sailor, and send for the Priest Ent. Sale. & Cyph.  
That married you.  War. 
Look here they come.  Plot. 
First then,  
Not to afflict you longer, Uncle, since  
We now are quit, know, all this was my project.  War. 
How?  Plot. 
Your two Ships are richly landed: if  
You'll not believe me, here's the Sailor, who Cyph. undisguises.  
Transformed to cipher, can tell you.  Cyp. 
'tis very true, Sir.  
I hired this travailing case of one o'th' Sailors,  
That came in one of 'em. They lie at Blackwall.  
Troth I in pity, Sir, to Mr Plotwell,  
Thought it my duty to deceive you.  War. 
Very well, Sir.  
What are these Masquers too?  Plot. 
Faith, Sir, these Ex. Cyph. they undisguise.  
Can change their forms too. They are two friends  
Worth threescore thousand pound, Sir, to my use.  War. 
Baneswright, and Captain Quartfield!  Qu. 
Nay old boy  
Th' haste a good pennyworth on't. The jest is worth  
Three parts of four.  Ban. 
Faith, Sir, we hope you'll pay  
Tonnage and Poundage into th' bargain.  War. 
O  
You are a precious Rogue, you ha' preferred me  
To a chaste Lucrece, Sirrah.  Ban. 
Your Nephew, Sir,  
Hath married her with all her faults, They are  
New come from Church.  War. 
How?  Pl. 
Wonder not, Sir, you  
Were married but in jest. 'twas no churchform,  
But a fine Legend out of Rabelais.  Sal. 
Troth Salw. undisguises.  
This reverend weed cast off, I'm a lay Poet,  
And can not marry unless't be in a Play,  
In the fift Act, or so; and that's almost  
Worn out of fashion too.  Ms Sea. 
These are the two  
That showed my son.  Ms Holl. 
let's have our money back.  Plotw. 
But Uncle for the Jointure, you have made her,  
I hope you'll not retract. That and three parts  
Of your two Sips, besides what you will leave  
Us at your death, will make a pretty stock  
For young beginners.  War. 
Am I o'erreached so finely?  Sea. 
But are you married, Sir, in earnest?  Plot. 
Troth,  
We have not been a-bed yet, but may go,  
And no Law broken.  Sea. 
Then I must tell you, Sir,  
Y' have wronged me, and I look for satisfaction.  Plotw. 
Why? I beseech you, Sir.  Sea. 
Sir, were not you  
betrothed once to my daughter?  Ms Seath. 
And did not I,  
And Ms Holland help to make you sure?  Plot. 
I do confess it.  Sea. 
Bear witness, Gentlemen,  
He doth confess it.  Plot. 
I'll swear it too, Sir.  Sea. 
Why  
Then have you matched this woman?  Plot. 
Why? because  
This is your Daughter, Sir, I'm hers by Conquest,  
For this day's service.  Sea. 
Is't possible I should  
Be out in my own child so?  Ms Sea. 
I told you husband.  Ms Scru. 
Surely my spirit gave me it 'twas she.  
And yet to see, now you have not your Wire,  
Nor City Ruff on, Mistress Sue, how these  
Clothes do beguile. In truth I took you for  
A Gentlewoman.  Sea. 
Here be rare plots indeed.  
Why how now, Sir, these young heads have outgone us.  
Was my Son o'th' plot too?  Plotw. 
Faith, Sir, he  
Is married too; I did strike up a wedding Ent. Tim. Aur.  
Between him and my sister,  Pen. 
Look, Sir,  
They come without their Maiden heads.  Sea. 
Why this  
Is better still. Now, Sir, you might have asked  
Consent of Parents.  Tim. 
Pray forgive me, Sir.  
I thought I had match a Lady, but she proves—  Sea. 
Much better, Sir; I'd chide you as a Fish  
But that your choice pleads for you.  Tim. 
Mother pray  
Salute my wife, and tell me if one may not  
Lie with her lips; nay you too, Mr. Holland;  
You taught her to make Shirts and Bonelace; she's  
Out of her time now.  Mr Holl. 
I release her, Sir.  War. 
I took your sister for a Lady, Nephew.  Plot. 
I kept her like one, Sir, my Temple scores  
Went to maintain the Title, out of hope  
To gain some great match for her, which you see  
Is come to pass.  War. 
Well, Mr Seathrift, things  
Are just fallen out as we contrived'em; I  
Grieve not I am deceived. Believe me, Gentlemen,  
You all did your parts well; 'twas carried cleanly;  
And though I could take some things ill of you  
Fair Mistress, yet 'twas plot, and I forget it;  
let's in and make 'em Portions.  Sea. 
Lead the way, Sir.  Ban. 
Pray stay a little.  War. 
More Revelations yet?  Ban. 
I all this while have stood behind the Curtain;  
You have a brother, Sir, and you a father.  Plot. 
If he do live, I have.  Ban. 
He in his time  
Was held the wealthiest Merchant on th' Exchange.  War. 
'tis true, but that his shipwracks broke him.  Ban. 
And  
The debt for which he broke I hear you have Baneswr. undisguises  
Compounded.  Sea. 
I am paid it.  Ban. 
Then I thank you.  War. 
My brother Plotwell!  Ban. 
Son I wish you joy.  Plot. 
O my blessed stars! my Father.  Ban. 
And to you fair Mistress  
Let it not breed repentance that I have,  
For my security to scape your Father,  
A while descended from myself to this  
Unworthy shape. Now I can cast it off,  
And be my true self. I have a ship which fame  
Gave out for lost but just now landed too  
Worth twenty thousand pounds towards your Match.  Sea. 
Better and better still.  War. 
Well what was wanting  
Unto our joys and made these Nuptials  
Imperfect. Brother you by your discovery Enter cipher.  
Have fully added.  Cyph. 
Sir, The two Sheriffs are  
Within and have both brought their Wives.  War. 
The Feast  
Intended for my wedding shall be yours.  
To which I add may you so love, to say  
When old, your time was but one Marriage Day.   
FINIS.   

THE epilogue AT Whitehall.  
THE Author was deceived, for should the Parts,  
And Play which you have seen, plead Rules & Arts,  
Such as strict Critics write by, who refuse  
T'allow the Buskin to the Comic Muse,  
Whose Region is the People, every strain  
Of Royalty being Tragic, though none slain:  
He'd now, Great Sir, hold all his Rules untrue,  
And thinks his best Rule is the Queen and You.  
He should have searched the Stories of each Age,  
And brought five Acts of Princes on the Stage.  
He should have taken measure, and raised sport,  
From persons bright, and glorious as your Court;  
And should have made his Argument to be  
Fully as high, and great as They that see.  
Here, he confesseth, you did nothing meet  
But what was first a Comedy i'th' street:  
Cheapside brought into verse, no passage strange  
To any here that hath been at th' Exchange.  
Yet he hopes none doth value it so low  
As to compare it with my Lord mayor's show.  
'tis so unlike, that some, he fears, did sit,  
Who missing Pageants did o'ersee the wit.  
Since then his Scenes no pomp or highness' boast,  
And low things graced show Princes Princes most,  
Your Royal smiles will raise't, and make him say,  
He only wrote, your liking made the Play.   

THE epilogue AT Blackfriars.  
ONce more the Author, ere you rise, doth say  
Though he have public warrant for his play,  
Yet he to th' Kings command needs the Kings Writ  
To keep him safe, not to b'arraigned for Wit.  
Not that he fears his name can suffer wrack  
From them who sixpence pay, and sixpence crack.  
To such he wrote not; though some parts have been  
So like here, that They to Themselves came in.  
To Them who call't reproof to make a face,  
Who think they judge when they frown i'th' wrong place;  
Who if they speak not ill o'th' Poet, doubt  
They lose by th' Play, nor have their two shillings out,  
He says, he hopes, they'll not expect he'd woo,  
The Play being done, they'd end their sour looks too.  
But before you who did true Hearers sit,  
Who singly make a box, and fill the Pit,  
Who to his Comedy read, and unseen,  
Had thronged Theatres, and Blackfriars been,  
He for his Doom stands; your Hands are his bays;  
Since They can only clap, who know to praise.