A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.  
As it hath been lately in Action by the Children of Paul's.  
Composed by T.M.  
 
LONDON, Printed by H. B. for WALTER BURRE, and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Crane. 1608.   

A mad World, my Masters.  
Enter Dick Folly-wit, and his consorts, Lieutenant maw-worm, Ancient Hoboy, and others his Comrades. Lieft. 
Captain, Regent, Principal,  Anti. 
What shall I call thee?  
The Noble spark of bounty;  
The lifeblood of Society.  Folly-w. 
Call me your Forecast, you whoresons, when you come drunk out of a Tavern, 'tis I must cast your plots into form still; 'tis I must manage the Prank, or I'll not give a louse for the proceeding: I must let fly my civil fortunes, turn wildbrain, lay my wits upo'th' Tenters, you rascals, to maintain a company of villains, whom I love in my very soul and conscience.  Lieft. 
A ha, our little forecast.  Folly-w. 
Hang you, you have bewitched me among you, I was as well given till I fell to be wicked, my Grandsire had hope of me, I went all in black, swore but a sundays, never came home drunk, but upon fasting nights to cleanse my stomach; 'slid now I'm quite altered, blown into light colours, let out oaths byth' minute, sit up late till it be early, drink drunk till I am sober, sink down dead in a Tavern, and rise in a tobacco-shop: her's a transformation: I was wont yet to pity the simple, and leave 'em some money: 'slid, now I gull 'em without conscience; I go without order, swear without number, gull without mercy, & drink without measure.  Lieft. 
I deny the last, for if you drink near so much, you drink within measure.  Folly-w 
How prove you that sir?  Lieft. 
Because the drawers never fill their pots.  Folly-w 
mass that was well found out all drunkards may lawfully say, they drink within measure by that trick, dna now I'm put i'th' mind of a trick can you keep your countenance villains? yet I am a fool to ask that, for how can they keep their countenance that have lost their credits?  Ants. 
I warrant you for blushing Captain.  Folly-w. 
I easily believe that Ancient, for thou lost thy colours once; Nay faith as for blushing, I think there's grace little enough amongst you all, 'tis lent in your cheeks, the flag's down; well, your blushing face I suspect not, nor indeed greatly your laughing-face, unless you had more money in your purses: then thus compendiously now, you all know the possibilities of my hereafter fortunes, and the humour of my frolic Grandsire Sir Bounteous Progress; whose death makes all possible to me: I shall have all, when he has nothing; but now he has all, I shall have nothing: I think one mind runs through a million of 'em; they love to keep us sober all the while they're alive, that when they're dead we may drink to their healths; they cannot abide to see us merry all the while there above ground; and that makes so many laugh at their father's funerals: I know my Grandsire has his Will in a Box, and has bequeathed all to me, when he can carry nothing away; but stood I in need of poor ten pounds now, by his will I should hang myself ere I should get it, there's no such word in his Will I warrant you, nor no such thought in his mind.  Lieft. 
You may build upon that Captain.  Folly w. 
Then since he has no will to do me good as long as he lives; by mine own will, I'll do myself good before he dies, and now I arrive at the purpose. You are not ignorant I'm sure, you true and necessary implements of mischief; first, that my grandsire Sir Bounteous Progress is a Knight of thousands, and therefore no Knight since one thousand six hundred: next, that he keeps a house like his name Bounteous, open for all comers: thirdly and lastly, that he stands much upon the glory of his complement, variety of entertainment, together with the largeness of his Kitchen, longitude of his Buttery, and fecundity of his Larder, and thinks himself never happier than when some stiff L. or great Countess alights, to make light his dishes: these being well mixed together may give my project better encouragement, and make my purpose spring forth more fortunate: to be short, and cut off a great deal of dirty way; I'll down to my Grandsire like a L.  Lieft. 
How Captain?  Folly-w. 
A French ruff, a thin beard, and a strong perfume will do't: I can hire blue coats for you all by Westminster clock, and that colour will be soonest believed.  Lieft. 
But prithee Captain?  Folly. 
Push, I reach past your fathoms; you desire crowns.  Lieft. 
From the crown of our head, to the sole of our foot bully.  Folly-w. 
Why carry yourselves but probably, and carry away enough with yourselves.  Enter M. Penitent Brothel. Ant. 
Why there spoke a Roman Captain, M. Penitent Brothel.  M. Pen. 
Sweet M. Folly-wit..  Exit 
here's a mad brain a'th' first, whose pranks scorn to have presidents; to be second to any; or walk beneath any: madcaps inventions, has played more tricks than the cards can allow a man, and of the last stamp too, hating imitation, a fellow, whose only glory is to be prime of the company; to be sure of which, he maintains all the rest: he's the carrion, and they the Kites that gorge upon him.  
But why in others do I check wild passions,  
And retain deadly follies in myself?  
I tax his youth of common received riot,  
Times Comic flashes, and the fruits of blood;  
And in myself sooth up adulterous motions,  
And such an appetite that I know dams me,  
Yet willingly embrace it, love to Harebrains wife,  
Over whose hours and pleasures her sick husband  
With a fantastic but deserved suspect,  
Bestows his serious time in watch and ward;  
And therefore I'm constrained to use the means  
Of one that knows no mean, a Courtesan,  
One poison for another, whom her husband  
Without suspicion innocently admits  
Into her company, who with tried art  
Corrupts and loosens her most constant powers,  
Making his jealousy more than half a wittol,  
Before his face plotting his own abuse,  
To which himself gives aim.  Enter Courtesan. 
Whilst the broad arrow with the forked head  
Misses his brow but narrowly; see here she comes,  
The close Courtesan, whose mother is her bawd.  Curtiz. 
Master Penitent Brothel.  M. Pen. 
My little pretty Lady gull-man, the news, the comfort?  Curtiz. 
You're the fortunate man sir, Knight a'th' holland skirt: there wants but opportunity and she's wax of your own fashioning, she had wrought herself into the form of your love before my art set finger to her.  M. Pen. 
Did our affections meet? our thoughts keep time?  Curtiz. 
So it should seem by the music, the only jar is in the grumbling base viol her husband.  M. Pen. 
Oh his waking suspicion!  Curtiz. 
Sigh not M. Penitent, trust the managing of the business with me, 'tis for my credit now to see't well finished: if I do you no good sir, you shall give me no money sir.  M. Pen. 
I am arrived at the Court of conscience; A Courtesan! O admirable times! honesty is removed to the Common place. Farewell Lady.  Exit. Penitent. Enter mother. Moth. 
How now daughter?  Curtiz, 
What news mother?  Moth. 
A token from thy keeper.  Curtiz. 
Oh from sir Bounteous Progress: he's my keeper in deed, but there's many a piece of venison stolen that my keeper wots not on; there's no park kept so warily, but loses flesh one time or other; and no woman kept so privately, but may watch advantage to make the best of her pleasure: and in common reason one keeper cannot be enough for so proud a park as a woman.  Moth. 
Hold thee there girl.  Curt. 
Fear not me mother.  Moth. 
Every part of the world shoots up daily into more subtlety: the very spider weaves her cawls with more art and cunning, to entrap the fly.  
The shallow ploughman can distinguish now,  
Twixt simple truth and a dissembling brow.  
Your base mechanic fellow can spy out  
A weakness in a L. and learns to flout.  
How dost behove us then that live by sleight,  
To have our wits wound up to their stretched height?  
fifteen times thou know'st I have sold thy maidenhead,  
To make up a dowry for thy marriage, and yet  
There's maidenhead enough for old sir Bounteous still,  
he'll be all his life time about it yet, and be as far to seek when he has done.  
The sums that I have told upon thy pillow!  
I shall once see those golden days again:  
Though fifteen, all thy may den heads are not gone:  
The Italian is not served yet, nor the French:  
The British men come for a dozen at once,  
They engross all the market, Tut my girl,  
'tis nothing but a politic conveyance;  
A sincere carriage, a religious eyebrow  
That throws their charms over the worldlings senses;  
And when thou spiest a fool that truly pities  
The false springs of thine eyes,  
And honourably dotes upon thy love,  
If he be rich, set him by for a husband;  
Be wisely tempered and learn this my wench  
Who gets th' opinion for a virtuous name  
May sin at pleasure, and near think of shame:  Curtiz. 
Mother I am too deep a Scholar grown To learn my first rules now.  Moth. 
'twill be thy own, I say no more; peace, hark, remove thyself, oh, the two elder Brothers.  Enter Inesse, and Possibility. Possibi. 
A fair hour sweet Lady.  Moth. 
Good morrow gentlemen, Master Inesse, and M. Possibility.  Esse 
where's the little sweet Lady your daughter?  Moth. 
even at her book sir.  Poss. 
So religious?  Moth. 
'tis no new motion sir, sh'as took it from an infant.  Poss. 
May we deserve a sight of her, Lady?  Moth. 
Upon that condition you will promise me gentlemen, to avoid all profane talk, wanton compliments, undecent phrases, and lascivious courtings. (which I know my daughter will sooner die than endure,) I am contented your suits shallbe granted.  Poss. 
Not a bawdy syllable I protest.  Inesse. 
syllable was placest there, for indeed your one syllables are your bawdiest words, prick that down.  Exeunt. Enter Mast. Harebrain. Hareb. 
She may make nightwork on't, 'twas well recovered, He Cats and Courtesans stroll most i'th' night, Her friend may be received and conveyed forth, nightly, He be at charge for watch and ward, for watch & ward i'faith, and here they come.  Enter two or three. First, 
Give your worship good even.  Hareb. 
Welcome my friends, I must deserve your diligence in an employment serious: the troth is, there is a cunning plot laid, but happily discovered, to rob my house: the night uncertain when, but fixed within the circle of this month: nor does this villainy consist in numbers:  
Or many partners, only some one  
Shall in the form of my familiar friend,  
Be received privately into my house,  
By some perfidious servant of mine own,  
Addressed fit for the practice.  First. 
O abominable!  Hareb. 
If you be faithful watchmen, show your goodness, And with these Angels shore up your eyelids: Let me not be purloined, purloined indeed; the merry Greeks conceive me: there is a gem I would not lose, Kept by the Italian under lock and key: we English men are careless creatures: well, I have said enough.  Second. 
And we will do enough sir.  Exeunt. Hareb. 
Why well said, watch me a good turn now, so, so, so,  
Rise villainy with the Lark, why 'tis prevented,  
Or steal't by with the leather winged Bat:  
The evening cannot save it, peace; Oh Lady Gulman, my wife's only company! welcome; and how does the virtuous Matron, that good old Gentlewoman thy mother? I persuade myself, if modesty be in the world she has part on't: a woman of an excellent carriage all her life time, in Court, City, and Country.  Curtiz. 
she's always carried it well in those places sir; witness three bastards a piece: how does your sweet bedfellow sir? you see I'm her boldest visitant.  Hareb. 
And welcome sweet Virgin, the only companion, my soul wishes for her; I left her within at her Lute, prithee give her good counsel.  Curtiz. 
Alas, she needs none sir.  Hareb. 
Yet, yet, yet, a little of thy instructions will not come amiss to her.  Curtiz. 
I'll bestow my labour sir.  Hareb. 
Do, labour her prithee; I have conveyed away all her wanton Pamphlets, as Hero and Leander, Venus and Adonis, oh two luscious marrowbone pies for a young married wife, here, here, prithee take the resolution, and read to her a little.  Curt. 
she's set up her resolution already sir.  Hareb. 
True, true, and this will confirm it the more, there's a chapter of Hell, 'tis good to read this cold weather, terrify her, terrify her; go, read to her the horrible punishments for itching wantonness, the pains allotted for adultery; tell her her thoughts, her very dreams are answerable, say so; rip up the life of a courtesan, & show how loath some 'tis.  Curt. 
The gentleman would persuade me in time to disgrace myself, and speak ill of mine own function.  Exit. Hareb. 
This is the course I take, I'll teach the married man  
A new selected strain, I admit none  
But this pure virgin to her company,  
Puh, that's enough; I'll keep her to her stint,  
I'll put her to her pension,  
She gets but her allowance, that's bare-one,  
Few women but have that beside their own,  
Ha, ha, ha, nay I'll put her hard too't.  Enter wife & Curt. Wife 
fain would I meet the gentleman.  Curt. 
Push, fain would you meet him, why, you do not take the course.  Hareb. 
How earnestly she labours her, like a good wholesome sister of the family, she will prevail I hope.  Curt. 
Is that the means?  Wife 
What is the means? I would as gladly to enjoy his sight, embrace it as the—  Curt. 
Shall I have hearing? listen?  Hareb. 
She's round with her i'faith.  Curt. 
When husbands in their rankest suspicions dwell,  
Then 'tis our best Art to dissemble well,  
Put but these notes in use, that I'll direct you,  
He'll curse himself that ere he did suspect you,  
Perhaps she will solicit you, as in trial  
To visit such and such, still given denial,  
Let no persuasions sway you, they are but fetches  
Set to betray you, jealousies, slights and reaches,  
Seem in his sight to endure the sight of no man,  
Put by all kisses, till you kiss in common,  
Neglect all entertain, if he bring in  
Strangers, keep you your chamber, be not seen;  
If he chance steal upon you, let him find,  
Some book lie open 'gainst an unchaste mind,  
And quoted Scriptures, though for your own pleasure,  
You read some stirring pamphlet, and convey it  
Under your Skirt, the fittest place to lay it,  
This is the course my wench to enjoy thy wishes,  
Here you perform best, when you most neglect,  
The way to daunt, is to outvie suspect,  
Manage these principles but with Art and life,  
Welcome all Nations, thou'rt an honest wife.  Hareb. 
She puts it home i'faith, e'en to the quick  
From her Elaborate action I reach that,  
I must requite this maid, faith I'm forgetful.  Wife 
Here Lady, convey my heart unto him in this jewel,  
Against you see me next you shall perceive  
I have profited, in the mean season tell him  
I am a prisoner yet, a'th' master's side,  
My husband's jealousy, that masters him, as he doth master me,  
And as a keeper that locks prisoners up,  
Is himself prisoned under his own key,  
Even so my husband in restraining me,  
with the same ward bars his own liberty.  Curt. 
I'll tell him how you wish it, and I'll wear  
My wits to the third pile, but all shall clear.  Wife 
I owe you more than thanks, but that I hope  
My husband will requite you.  Curt. 
Think you so Lady? he has small reason for't.  Hareb. 
What done so soon? away, too't again, too't again, good wench too't again, leave her not so, where left you. come.  Curt. 
Faith I am weary sir.  
I cannot draw her from her strict opinion.  
With all the arguments that sense can frame.  Hareb. 
No; let me come, Fie wife, you must consent; what opinion is't, let's hear?  Curtiz 
Fondly and wilfully she retains that thought, That every sin is damned.  Hareb. 
Oh fie, fie, wife! Pea, pea, pea, pea, how have you lost your time? for shame be converted: there's a diabolical opinion indeed; than you may think that usury were damned: you're a fine merchant i'faith; or bribery? you know the law well; or sloth? would some of the Clergy heard you i'faith; or pride? you come at Court; or gluttony? you're not worthy to dine at an Alderman's table:  
Your only deadly sin's Adultery,  
That villainous ringworm, woman's worst requital,  
'tis only lechery that's damned toth' pit-hole;  
Ah, that's an arch-offence, believe it squall,  
All sins are venial but venerial.  Curtiz. 
I've said enough to her.  Hareb. 
And she will be ruled by you.  Curtiz. 
Fah.  Hareb. 
I'll pawn my credit on't; come hither Lady,  
I will not altogether rest ingrateful,  
Here, wear this Ruby for thy pains and counsel.  Curtiz. 
It is not so much worth sir, I am a very ill counsellor truly.  Hareb. 
go too I say.  Curtiz. 
You're too blame i'faith sir, I shall near deserve it.  Hareb. 
Thou hast done't already: farewell sweet Virgin, prithee let's see thee oftener.  Curtiz. 
Such gifts will soon entreat me.  Exit. Hareb. 
Wife, as thou lov'st the quiet of my breast,  
Embrace her counsel, yield to her advices;  
Thou wilt find comfort in 'em in the end;  
Thou'lt feel an alteration, prithee think on't:  
Mine eyes can scarce refrain.  Wife. 
Keep in your dew sir, lest when you would, you want it.  Hareb. 
I've pawned my credit on't, ah didst thou know, The sweet fruit once, thou'dst never let it go.  Wife. 
'tis that I strive to get.  Hareb. 
And still do so.  Exeunt. 
Finit Actus Primus.   

Incipit Actus Secundus.  Enter Sir Bounteous with two Knights. First, 
You have been too much like your name Sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
Oh not so, good Knights, not so, you know my humour; most welcome good Sir Andro Pelcut, Sir Aquitaino Colewort, most welcome.  Both. 
Thanks good Sir Bounteous.  Exeunt at one door At the other, enter in haste a footman. Foot. 
Oh, cry your worship heartily mercy Sir.  Sir Boun. 
How now linen stockings, and threescore mile a day; whose footman art thou?  Foot. 
Pray can your worship tell me, Hoh, hoh, hoh, if my L. be come in yet.  Sir Boun. 
Thy L! what L?  Foot. 
My L. Owemuch sir.  Sir Boun. 
My L. Owemuch! I have heard much speech of that L. h'as great acquaintance i'th' City; that L. has been much followed.  Foot. 
And is still sir; he wants no company when he's in London: he's free of the Mercers, and there's none of 'em all dare cross him.  Sir Boun. 
And they did, he'd turn over a new leaf with 'em; he would make 'em all weary on't i'th' end: much fine rumor have I heard of that L. yet had I never the fortune to set eye upon him; art sure he will alight here Footman? I am afraid thou'rt mistook.  Foot. 
Thinks your worship so sir? by your leave sir.  Sir Boun. 
Puh; passion of me, Footman, why Pumps I say come back.  Foot. 
does your worship call?  Sir Boun. 
Come hither I say, I am but afraid on't, would it might happen so well, how dost know? did he name the house with the great turret a'th' top?  Foot. 
No saith did he not sir.  Sir Boun. 
Come hither I say, did he speak of a cloth a gold chamber?  Foot. 
Not one word by my troth sir.  Sir Boun. 
Come again you lousy seven mile an hour?  Foot. 
I beseech your worship detain me not.  Sir Boun. 
Was there no talk of a fair pair of organs, a great guilt candlestick, and a pair of silver snuffers?  Foot. 
'twere sin to bely my Lord, I heard no such words sir.  Sir Boun. 
A pox confine thee, come again, puh,  Foot. 
Your worship will undo me sir.  Sir Boun. 
Was there no speech of a long dining room, a huge kitchen, large meat, and a broad dresser board?  Foot. 
I have a greater maw to that indeed, an't please your worship.  Sir Boun. 
Whom did he name?  Foot. 
Why one Sir Bounteous Progress.  Sir Boun. 
Ah, a, a, I am that Sir Bounteous you progressive roundabout Rascal.  Foot. 
Laughs, puh—  Sir Boun. 
I knew I should have him i'th' end, there's not a Lord will miss me I thank their good honours, 'tis a fortune laid upon me, they can sent out their best entertainment, I have a kind of complemental gift given me above ordinary country Knights, and how soon, 'tis smelled out I warrant ye, there's not one Knight i'th' Shear able to entertain a Lord i'th' cue, or a Lady i'th' nick like me, like me, there's a kind of grace belongs too't, a kind of Art which naturally slips from me, I know not on't I promise you, 'tis gone before I'm aware on't, cuds me I forget myself, where—  First. 
does your worship call?  Sir Boun. 
Run sirrah, call in my chief gentleman i'th' chain of gold, expedite; and how does my good Lord? I never saw him before in my life, a cup of bastard for this footman.  Foot. 
My Lord has travailed this five year sir.  Sir Boun. 
Travailed this five year? how many children has he? some bastard I say.  Foot. 
No bastard an't please your worship.  Sir Boun. 
A cup of Sack to strengthen his wit, the footman's a fool; oh, come hither master Gunwater, come hither, send presently to master Pheasant for one of his hens, there's Partridge i'th' house.  Gun. 
And Wild-duck an't please your worship.  Sir Boun. 
And Woodcock an't please thy worship.  Gun. 
And Woodcock an't please your worship, I had thought to have spoke before you.  Sir Boun. 
Remember the Pheasant, down with some Plover, clap down six Woodcocks, my love's coming; now sir.  Gun. 
An't please your worship there's a Lord and his followers newly alighted.  Sir Boun. 
Dispatch I say, dispatch, why where's my music? he's come indeed.  Enter Folly-wit like a Lord with his Comrades in blue coats. Folly. 
Footman.  Foot. 
My Lord.  Folli. 
Run swiftly with my commendations to S. jasper Topas we'll ride and visit him i'th' morning say.  Foot. 
Your Lordship's charge shall be effected.  Exit. Folly. 
That Courtly comely form, should present to me Sir Bounteous Progress.  Sir Boun. 
Y'ave found me out my Lord, I cannot hide myself, Your honour in most spaciously welcome.  Folly. 
In this forgive me Sir, that being a stranger to your houses,  
And you, I make my way so bold, and presume  
Rather upon your kindness than your knowledge,  
Only your bounteous disposition.  
Fame hath divulged, and is to me well known.  Sir Boun. 
Nay, and your Lordship know my disposition, you know me better than they that know my person; your honour is so much the welcomer for that.  Folly-w. 
Thanks good sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
Pray pardon me, it has been often my ambition my L. both in respect of your honourable presence, and the prodigal fame that keeps even stroke with your unbounded worthiness;  
To have wished your Lordship, where your Lordship is  
A noble guest in this unworthy seat:  
Your Lordship near heard my Organs.  Folly-w. 
Heard of 'em sir Bounteous, but never heard 'em.  Sir Boun. 
they're but double guilt my L. some hundred and fifty pound wilt fit your Lordship with such another pair.  Folly-w. 
Indeed sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
O my L. I have a present suit to you.  Folly-w. 
To me sir Bounteous, and you could near speak at fitter time? for I'm here present to grant you.  Sir Boun. 
Your Lordship has been a traveler.  Folly-w. 
Some five year sir.  Sir Boun. 
I have a Grandchild my L. I love him; and when I die I'll do somewhat for him: I'll tell your honour the worst of him, a wild lad he has been.  Folly-w. 
So we have been all sir.  Sir Boun. 
So we have been all indeed my L. I thank your lordship's assistance; some comic pranks he has been guilty of; but I'll pawn my credit for him, an honest trusty bosom.  Folly-w. 
And that's worth all sir.  Sir Boun. 
And that's worth all indeed my L. for he's like to have all when I die; imberbis juvenis, his chin has no more prickles yet then a midwives: there's great hope of his wit his hair's so long a coming; shall I be bold with your honour, to prefer this aforesaid Ganymede to hold a plate under your Lordship's cup?  Folly-w. 
You wrong both his worth, and your bounty, and you call that boldness; Sir I have heard much good of that young Gentleman.  Sir Boun. 
Nay h'as a good wit i'faith my L.  Folly-w. 
H'as carried himself always generously.  Sir Boun. 
Are you advised of that my L.? h'as carried many things cleanly: I'll show your Lordship my Will, I keep it above in an Outlandish box; the whoreson boy must have all: I love him, yet he shall near find it as long as I live.  Folly-w. 
Well sir, for your sake, and his own deserving, I'll reserve a place for him nearest to my secrets.  Sir Boun. 
I understand your good Lordship, you'll make him your Secretary: my music, give my L. a taste of his welcome.  A strain played by the Consort, Sir Bounteous makes a Courtly honour to that L. and seems to foot the tune. Sir Boun. 
So, how like you our Airs my Lord? are they choice?  Folly-w. 
they're seldom matched believe it.  Sir Boun. 
The Consort of mine own household.  Folly w. 
Ye sir.  Sir Boun. 
The musicans are in Ordinary, yet no ordinary musicans: your Lordship shall hear my Organs now.  Folly-w. 
Oh I beseech you sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
My Organist.  The Organs play, and covered dishes march over the Stage. 
Come my L. how does your honour relish my Organ?  Folly-w. 
A very proud Air i'faith sir.  Sir Boun. 
Oh, how can't choose, a Walloon plays upon 'em, and a Welshman blows wind in their breech.  Exeunt. A song to the Organs. Enter sir Bounteous with Folly-wit, and his consorts toward his lodging. Sir Boun. 
You must pardon us my L. hasty cates, your honour has had e'en a hunting meal on't; and now I am like to bring your Lordship to as mean a lodging, a hard Down bed i'faith my L. poor cambric sheets, and a cloth a Tissue Canopy, the Curtains indeed were wrought in Venice, with the story of the Prodigal child in silk and gold, only the Swine are left out my L. for spoiling the curtains.  Fol. 
't was well prevented sir.  Sir Boun. 
silken rest, harmonious slumbers, and venerial dreams to your Lordship.  Fol. 
The like to kind Sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
Fie, not to me my L. I'm old, past dreaming of such vanities.  Folly. 
Old men should dream best.  Sir Boun. 
Their dreams indeed my L. you'ave gi'n't us: tomorrow your Lordship shall see my Cocks, my Fishponds, my Park, my Champion grounds; I keep Champers in my house can show your Lordship some pleasure.  Fol. 
Sir Bounteous you e'en whelm me with delights.  Sir Boun. 
Once again a musical night to your honour; I'll trouble your Lordship no more.  Exit. Fol. 
Good rest sir Bounteous; so, come, the visards, where be the masking suits?  Leift. 
In your Lordship's portmanteau.  Fol. 
Peace Lieutenant.  Leift. 
I had rather have war, Captain.  Fol. 
Puh, the plot's ripe; come, to our business lad, Though guilt condemns, 'tis gilt must make us glad.  Leift. 
Nay, and you be at your distinctions Captain, I'll follow behind no longer.  Fol. 
Get you before then, and whelm your nose with your vizard, go.  
Now Grandsire, you that hold me at hard meat,  
And keep me out at the Dags end, I'll fit you;  
Under his Lordship's leave, all must be mine  
He and his Will confesses, what I take then  
Is but a borrowing of so much before hand;  
I'll pay him again when he dies, in so many blacks,  
I'll have the Church hung round with a noble a yard,  
Or requite him in Scutcheons, let him trap me  
In gold, and I'll lap him in lead; quid pro quo: I  
Must look none of his Angels in the face forsooth,  
Until his face be not worth looking on; Tut lads,  
Let Sires and Grandsires keep us low, we must  
Live when they're flesh, as well as when they're dust.  Exit. Enter Courtesan with her man. Curt. 
Go, sirrah, run presently to M. Penitent Brothel; you know his lodging, knock him up, I know he cannot sleep for sighing; tell him I've happily bethought a mean,  
To make his purpose prosper in each limb,  
Which only rests to be approved by him:  
Make haste, I know he thirsts for't.  Exeunt. 
Within. Oh.  Enter in a masking suit with a vizard in his hand, Folly-wit. Fol. 
Hark, they're at their business.  First. 
thieves, thieves.  Fol. 
Gag that gaping rascal, though he be my grandsire's chief Gentleman i'th' chain of gold, I'll have no pity of him; how now lads?  Enter the rest Vizarded. Leift. 
all's sure and safe, on with your vizard sir; the servants are all bound.  Fol. 
There's one care past then, come follow me lads, I'll lead you now toth' point, and top of all your fortunes; yo'n lodging is my Grandsires.  Leift. 
So, so, lead on, on.  Ant. 
Her's a Captain worth the following, and a wit worth a man's love and admiring!  Enter with Sir Bounteous in his nightgown. Sir Boun. 
Oh gentlemen, and you be kind gentlemen, what countrymen are you?  Folly w. 
Lincolnshire men Sir.  Sir Boun. 
I am glad of that i'faith.  Folly-w. 
And why should you be glad of that?  Sir Boun. 
Oh, the honestest thieves of all come out of Lincolnshire; the kindest natured Gentlemen; they'll rob a man with conscience: they have a feeling of what they go about, and will steal with tears in their eyes: ah pitiful gentlemen.  Folly-w. 
Push, Money, money, we come for money.  Sir Boun. 
Is that all you come for? Ah what a beast was I to put out my money other day: alas good gentlemen, what shift shall I make for you? pray come again another time.  Folly-w. 
Tut, tut sir, money.  Sir Boun. 
Oh not so loud sir, you're too shrill a Gentleman; I have a L. lies in my house, I would not for the world his honour should be disquieted.  Folly-w. 
Who my L. Owemuch? we have took order with him before hand, he lies bound in his bed and all his followers.  Sir Boun. 
Who my L? bound my L? Alas what did you mean to bind my L? he could keep his bed well enough without binding: you'ave undone me i''nt already, you need rob me no farther.  Folly-w. 
Which is the Key, come?  Sir Boun. 
Ah I perceive now, you're no true Lincolnshire spirits; you come rather out of Bedfordshire, we cannot lie quiet in our beds for you: so, take enough my Masters; spur a free horse, my name's sir Bounteous, a merry world i'faith; what Knight but I keep open house at midnight? well, there should be a conscience, if one could hit upon't.  Folly-w. 
Away now, cease upon him, bind him.  Sir Boun. 
Is this your Court of equity? why should I be bound for mine own money? but come, come, bind me, I have need on't; I have been too liberal tonight, keep in my hands: nay, as hard as you list; I am too good to bear my L. company, you have watched your time my Masters; I was Knighted at Westminster, but many of these nights will make me a Knight of Windsor; you'ave deserved so well my Masters; I bid you all to dinner tomorrow, I would I might have your companies i'faith, I desire no more.  Folly-w. 
Oh ho sir!  Sir Boun. 
Pray meddle not with my Organs, to put 'em out of tune.  Folly-w. 
Oh no, here's better music sir.  Sir Boun. 
Ah pox feast you.  Exit. Folly-w. 
Dispatch with him, away; so, thank you good Grandsire; this was bounteously done of him i'faith; it came somewhat hard from him at first; for indeed nothing comes stiff from an old man but money: and he may well stand upon that, when he has nothing else to stand upon: where's our Portmantua?  Leift. 
Here bully-captain.  Folly-w. 
In with the purchase, 'twill lie safe enough there under's nose I warrant you: what, is all sure?  Enter Ancient. Ant. 
All's sure Captain.  Folly-w. 
You know what follows now, one villain binds his fellows; go, we must be all bound for our own securities rascals, there's no dallying upo'th' point; you conceit me: there is a L. to be found bound in the morning, and all his followers, can you pick out that L. now?  Leift. 
O admirable spirit!  Folly-w. 
You near plot for your safeties, so your wants be satisfied.  Anti. 
But if we bind one another, how shall the last man be bound?  Folly-w. 
Pox on't, I'll have the footman scape.  Foot. 
That's I, I thank you sir.  Folly-w. 
The Footman of all other will be supposed to scape, for he comes in no bed all night; but lies in's clothes, to be first ready i'th' morning: the horse and he lies in litter together; that's the right fashion of your bonny Footman: and his freedom will make the better for our purpose; for we must have one i'th' morning to unbind the Knight, that we may have our sport within ourselves: we now arrive at the most ticklish point, to rob, and take our ease, to be thieves and lie by't, looker to't lads, it concerns every man's gullet; I'll not have the jest spoiled, that's certain, though it hazard a windpipe: I'll either go like a L. as I came, or be hanged like a these as I am; and that's my resolution.  Leift. 
Troth a match Captain, of all hands.  Exeunt. Enter Courtesan with M. Penitent Brothel. Curtiz. 
Oh M. Penitent Brothel!  M. Pen. 
What is't sweet Lady Gulman, that so seizes on thee with rapture and admiration?  Curtiz. 
A thought, a trick, to make you sir especially happy, and yet I myself a saver by it.  M. Pen. 
I would embrace that Lady with such courage, I would not leave you on the losing hand.  Curt. 
I will give trust to you sir, the cause then why I raised you from your bed so soon; wherein I know sighs would not let you sleep, thus understand it: You love that woman (M. Harebrains wife) Which no invented means can crown with freedom, For your desires and her own wish, but this, Which in my slumbers did present itself.  M. Pen. 
I'm covetous Lady.  Curtiz. 
you know her husband lingering in suspect, Locks her from all society, but mine.  M. Pen. 
Most true.  Curtiz. 
I only am admitted, yet hitherto That has done you no real happiness; by my admittance I cannot perform that deed, that should please you, You know: wherefore thus I've conveyed it, I'll counterfeit a fit of violent sickness.  M. Pen. 
Good.  Curtiz. 
Nay 'tis not so good by my faith, but to do you good.  M. Pen. 
And in that sense I called it, but take me with you Lady; would it be probable enough to have a sickness so suddenly violent?  Curtiz. 
Puh, all the world knows women are soon down; we can be sick when we have a mind to't, catch an ague with the wind of our fans, surfeit upon the rump of a Lark, and bestow ten pound in physic upon't; we're likest ourselves when we're down: 'tis the easiest Art and cunning for our sect to counterfeit sick, that are always full of sits when we are well; for since we were made for a weak imperfect creature, we can sit that best that we are made for: I thus translated, and yourself slipped into the form of a Physician.  M. Pen. 
I a Physician Lady, talk not on't I beseech you, I shall shame the whole College.  Curt. 
Tutman, any quacksalving terms will serve for this purpose; for I am pitifully haunted with a brace of elder brothers, new perfumed in the first of their fortunes, and I shall see how forward their purses will be to the pleasing of my palate, and restoring of my health; lay on load enough upon 'em, and spare 'em not, for they're good plump fleshly Asses, and may well enough bear it: let gold, amber, and dissolved Pearl, be common ingrediences, and that you cannot compose a cullis without 'em: put but this cunningly in practice, it shall be both a sufficient recompense for all my pains in your love, and the ready means to make Mistress Harebrain; way, by the visiting of me to your mutual desired company.  M. Pen. 
I Applaud thee, kiss thee, and will constantly embrace it.  Exeunt. Voices within. Sir Boun. 
Ho, Gunwater!  Fol. 
Singlestone!  Within 
jenkin, uva, ha, ho.  Within 
Ewen!  Within 
Simcod!  Fol. 
Footman! whewe—  Foot. 
Oh good your worship, let me help your good old worship.  Enter Sir Bount, with a cord half unbound, Foot with him. Sir Boun. 
Ah poor honest footman, how didst thou scape this massacre?  Foot. 
E'en by miracle, and lying in my clothes sir.  Sir Boun. 
I think so, I would I had lain in my clothes to Footman, so I had scaped 'em; I could have but risse like a beggar then, and so I do now, till more money come in; but nothing afflicts me so much, my poor Geometrical Footman, as that the barbarous villains should lay violence upon my L. Ah, the binding of my L. cuts my heart in two pieces; so, so, 'tis well, I thank thee, run to thy fellows, undo 'em, undo 'em, undo 'em.  Foot. 
Alas, if my L. should miscarry, they're unbound already sir; they have no occupation but sleep, feed, and fart. Exit.  Sir Boun. 
If I be not ashamed to look my L i'th' face, I'm a Sarazen my L.  Folly w. 
Who's that?  Sir Boun. 
One may see he has been scared, a pox on 'em for their labours.  Folly-w. 
Singlestone!  Sir Boun. 
Singlestone? I'll near answer to that i'faith.  Folly-w. 
Suchman-  Sir Boun. 
Suchman? nor that neither i'faith; I am not brought so low, though I be old.  Folly-w. 
Who's that i'th' chamber?  Sir Boun. 
Good morrow my L. 'tis I.  Folly-w. 
Sir Bounteous good morrow, I would give you my hand sir, but I cannot come at it; is this the courtesy a'th' country sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
Your Lordship grieves me more than all my loss; 'tis the unnatural'st sight that can be found, To see a noble gentleman hard-bound.  Folly-w. 
Trust me, I thought you had been better beloved sir Bounteous; but I see you have enemies sir, and your friends fare the worse for 'em: I like your talk better than your lodging; I near lay harder in a bed of down; I have had a mad night's rest on't: can you not guess what they should be Sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
Faith Lincolnshire men my Lord.  Folly-w. 
How? fie, fie, believe it not sir, these lie not far off I warrant you.  Sir Boun. 
Think you so my Lord?  Folly-w. 
I'll be burnt & they do, some that use to your house sir, and are familiar with all the conveyances.  Sir Boun. 
This is the commodity of keeping open house my Lord, that makes so many shut their doors about dinner time.  Folly-w. 
They were resolute villains, I made myself known to 'em, told 'em what I was; gave 'em my honourable word not to disclose 'em.  Sir Boun. 
O saucy unmannerly villains!  Folly-w. 
And think you the slaves would trust me upon my word?  Sir Boun. 
They would not?  Folly-w. 
Forsooth no, I must pardon 'em, they told me Lords promises were mortal, and commonly die within half an hour after they are spoken; they were but gristles, and not one amongst a hundred come to any full growth, or perfection, and therefore though I were a L. I must enter into bond.  Sir Boun. 
Insupportable Rascals.  Folly-w. 
Troth I'm of that mind Sir Bounteous you fared the worse for my coming hither.  Sir Boun. 
Ah good my Lord, but I'm sure your Lordship fared the worse.  Folly-w. 
Pray pity not me sir.  Sir Boun. 
Is not your honour sore about the brawn of the arm? a murrain meet 'em, I feel it.  Folly-w. 
About this place Sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
You feel as it were a twinge my Lord?  Folly-w. 
ay, e'en a twinge, you say right.  Sir Boun. 
A pox discover 'em, that twinge I feel too.  Folly-w. 
But that which disturbs me most Sir Bounteous lies here.  Sir Boun. 
True, about the wrist, a kind of Tumid numbness.  Folly-w. 
You say true Sir.  Sir Bount. 
The Reason of that my Lord is, the pulses had no play.  Folly-w. 
Mass so I guessed it.  Sir Boun 
A mischief swell 'em, for I feel that to.  Leift. 
'slid her's a house haunted indeed.  Sir Boun. 
A word with you sir.  Folly-w. 
How now Singlestone?  Lieft. 
I'm sorry my Lord your Lordship has lost.  Sir Boun. 
Pup, pup, pup, pup, pup.  Folly-w. 
What have I lost? speak?  Sir Boun. 
A good night's sleep say.  Folly-w. 
Speak, what have I lost I say?  Lieft. 
A good nights sleep my Lord, nothing else. Curtains drawn  Folly-w. 
That's true, my cloth's come.  Lieft. 
My Lords clothes, his honour's rising.  Sir Boun. 
Hist, well said, come hither, what has my Lord lost, tell me, speak softly?  Lieft. 
His Lordship must know that Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Hush, prithee tell me.  Lieft. 
'twill do you no pleasure to know't Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Yet again? I desire it I say.  Lieft. 
Since your worship will needs know't, they have stolen away a jewel in a blue silk ribbon of a hundred pound price, beside some hundred pounds in fair Spur-Royals.  Sir Boun. 
That's some two hundred i'th' total.  Lieft. 
Your worship's much about it Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Come follow me, I'll make that whole again in so much money, let not my Lord know on't.  Lieft. 
Oh pardon me Sir Bounteous, that were a dishonour to my Lord, should it come to his ear, I should hazard my undoing by it.  Sir Boun. 
How should it come to his ear? if you be my Lords chief man about him, I hope you do not use to speak, unless you be paid for't, and I had rather give you a councillors double Fee to hold your peace, come, go too, follow me I say.  Lieft. 
There will be scarce time to tell it sir, my Lord will away instantly.  Sir Boun. 
His honour shall stay dinner by his leave, I'll prevail with him so far; and now I remember a lest; I bade the whoreson thieves to dinner last night, I would I might have their companies, a pox poison 'em.  Exit. Lieft. 
Faith and you are like to have no other guess Sir Bounteous, if you have none but us, I'll give you that gift i'faith.  Exeunt. 
Finit Actus Secundus.   

Incipit Actus Tertius.  Enter Master harebrain with two elder brothers, Master Inesse, and Master Possibility. Possibi. 
YOu see bold guests Master Hareb.  Hareb. 
You're kindly welcome to my house; good Master Inesse, and Master Possibility.  Inesse 
That's our presumption Sir.  Hareb. 
Rafe?  Rafe 
Here Sir.  Hareb. 
Call down your mistress to welcome these two Gentlemen my friends.  Rafe 
I shall Sir.  Exit. Hareb. 
I will observe her carriage, and watch The slippery revolutions of her eye, I'll lie in wait for every glance she gives, And poise her words i'th' balance of suspect, If she but swag she's gone, either on this hand Over familiar, or this, too neglectful, It does behove her carry herself even.  Possibi. 
But master Hareb.  Hareb. 
True, I hear you sir; was't you said?  Possibi. 
I have not spoke it yet Sir.  Hareb. 
Right, so I say.  Possibi. 
Is it not strange, that in so short a time, my little Lady Gulman should be so violently handled?  Hareb. 
Oh, sickness has no mercy sir,  
It neither pities Lady's lip, nor eye,  
It crops the Rose out of the virgin's cheek,  
And so deflowers her that was near deflowered,  
Fools then are maids to lock from men that treasure,  
Which death will pluck, and never yield 'em pleasure;  
Ah gentlemen, though I shadow it, that sweet virgin's sickness grieves me not lightly, she was my wives only delight and company;  
Did you not hear her gentlemen, i'th' midst  
Of her extremest fit, still how she called upon my wife,  
Remembered still my wife, sweet mistress Harebrain,  
When she sent for me, a one side of her bed stood the Physician,  
the Scrivener on the other, two horrible objects, but,  
mere opposites in the course of their lives, for the Scrivener  
binds folks, and the Physician makes them loose.  Poss. 
But not loose of their bonds Sir?  Hareb. 
No by my faith sir, I say not so, if the Physician could make 'em lose of their bonds, there's many a one would take Physic, that dares not now for poisoning, but as I was telling of you, her Will was fashioning, Wherein I found her best and richest jewel, Given as a Legacy unto my wife, When I read that, I could not refrain weeping, well of all other, my wife has most reason to visit her, if she have any good nature in her, she'll show it there, now sir where's your mistress?  Rafe 
She desires you, and the gentlemen your friends, to hold her excused, she's a fit of an Ague now upon her, which begins to shake her  Hareb. 
Where does it shake her most?  Rafe 
All over her body Sir.  Hareb. 
Shake all her body? 'tis a saucy fit, I'm jealous of that Ague, pray walk in gentlemen, I'll see you instantly.  Rafe 
Now they are absent sir, 'tis no such thing.  Hareb. 
What?  Rafe 
My mistress has her health Sir,  
But 'tis her suit, she may confine herself  
From sight of all men, but your own dear self Sir,  
For since the sickness of that modest virgin  
Her only company, she delights in none;  Hareb. 
No; visit her again, commend me to her, Tell her they're gone, and only I myself Walk here to exchange a word or two with her.  Rafe 
I'll tell her so sir.  Exit. Hareb. 
Fool that I am, and madman, beast! what worse?  
Suspicious o'er a creature that deserves  
The best opinion, and the purest thought,  
Watchful o'er her that is her watch herself,  
To doubt her ways, that looks too narrowly  
Into her own defects; ay, foolish-fearful  
Have often rudely, out of giddy flames  
bar her those objects which she shuns herself,  
Thrice I've had proof of her most constant temper,  
Come I at unawares by stealth upon her,  
I find her circled in with Divine Writs  
Of heavenly meditations; here and there  
Chapters with leaves tucked up, which when I see  
They either tax pride or adultery,  
Ah let me curse myself, that could be jealous  
Of her whose mind no sin can make rebellious.  
And here the unmatched comes, now wife i'faith they're gone,  
Push, see how fearful 'tis, will you not credit me?  
They're gone i'faith, why, think you I'll betray you? come, come, thy delight and mine, thy only virtuous friend, thy sweet instructress is violently taken, grievous sick, and which is worse, she mends not.  Wife 
Her friends are sorry for that Sir.  Hareb. 
she calls still upon thee, poor soul, remembers thee still, thy name whirls in her breath, where's mistress Harebrain says she?  Wife 
Alas good soul,  Hareb. 
She made me weep thrice, sh'as put thee in a jewel in her Will.  Wife 
e'en toth' last gasp a kind soul.  Hareb. 
Take my man, go, visit her.  Wife 
Pray pardon me sir, alas my visitation cannot help her.  Hareb. 
Oh yet the kindness of a thing wife; still she holds the same rare temper; take my man I say.  Wife. 
I would not take your man sir, though I did purpose going.  Hareb. 
No? thy reason?  Wife 
The world's condition is itself so vild Sir,  
'tis apt to judge the worst, of those deserve not,  
'tis an ill-thinking age, and does apply  
All to the form of it own Luxury,  
This censure flies from one, that, from another,  
That man's her Squire, says he; her Pimp, the tother,  
she's of the stamp, a third, fourth, I ha' known her:  
I've heard this, not without a burning cheek:  
Then our attires are taxed, our very gate  
Is called in question, where a husband's presence  
Scatters such thoughts, or makes 'em sink for fear  
Into the hearts that breed 'em, nay surely if I went Sir,  
I would entreat your company.  Hareb. 
Mine? prithee wife, I have been there already.  Wife 
That's all one; although you bring me but toth' door Sir, I would entreat no farther.  Hareb. 
thou'rt such a wife; why I will bring thee thither then, but not go up I swear.  Wife 
I'faith you shall not, I do not desire it sir.  Hareb. 
Why then content.  Wife 
Give me your hand you will do so Sir.  Hareb. 
Why there's my lip I will.  Wife 
Why then I go Sir.  Hareb. 
With me or no man, incomparable such a woman. Exeunt.  Viols, Gallipots, Plate, and an hourglass by her. The Courtesan on a bed, for her counterfeit fut. To her, Master Penitent Brothel, like a Doctor of Physic. M. Peni. 
Lady?  Curt. 
Ha, what news?  M. Peni. 
there's one Sir Bounteous Progress newly alighted from his foot-cloth, and his Mare waits at door, as the fashion is.  Curt. 
'slid, 'tis the knight that privately maintains me, a little short-old. spiny Gentleman, in a great doublet.  M. Peni 
The same, I know 'em.  Curt. 
he's my sole Revenue, meat, drink, and raiment; my good Physician work upon him, I'm weak.  M. Peni. 
Enough.  Sir Boun. 
Why, where be these Ladies? these plump soft delicate creatures? ha?  M. Peui. 
Who would you visit sir?  Sir Boun. 
Visit, who? what are you with the plague in your mouth?  M. Peni. 
A Physician sir.  Sir Boun. 
Then you are a loose-liver Sir, I have put you to your purgation.  M. Peni. 
But you need none, you're purged in a worse fashion,  Curt. 
Ah, Sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
How now? what art thou?  Curt. 
Sweet Sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
passion of me, what an alteration's here? Rosamond sick old Harry? her's a sight able to make an old man shrink, I was lusty when I came in, but I am down now i'faith, mortality, yea? this puts me in mind of a hole seven foot deep, my grave, my grave, my grave, hist, master Doctor a word sir, hark, 'tis not the Plague? be't?  M. Peni. 
The Plague Sir, no?  Sir Boun. 
Good.  M. Peni. 
He ne'er asks whether it be the Pox or no, and of the twain that had been more likely.  Sir Boun. 
How now my wench? how dost?  Curt. 
Huh, weak Knigh, huh.  M. Peni. 
She says true, he's a weak Knight indeed.  Sir Boun. 
Where does it hold thee most, wench?  Curt. 
All parts alike Sir.  M. Peni. 
she says true still, for it holds her in none.  Sir Boun. 
Hark in thine ear, thou'rt breeding of young bones, I am afraid I have got thee with child i'faith.  Curt. 
I fear that much sir.  Sir Boun. 
Oh, oh, if it should, a young Progress when als done.  Curt. 
You have done your good will Sir.  Sir Boun. 
I see by her, 'tis nothing but a surfeit of Venus i'faith, and though I be old, I have gin't her, but since I had the power to make thee sick, I'll have the purse to make thee whole, that's certain; master Doctor.  M. Pent. 
Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Let's hear I pray, what is't you minister to her?  M. Pent. 
Marry Sir, some precious cordial, some costly refocillation, a composure comfortable and restorative.  Sir Boun. 
ay, ay, that, that, that.  M. Pent. 
No poorer ingrediences than the liquour of coral, clear Amber, or Succinum, unicorns horn six grains, Magisterium, Perlarum one scruple.  Sir Boun. 
Ah.  M. Pent. 
Ossis de cord Cervi half a scruple, Aurum Potabile or his tincture.  Sir Boun. 
Very precious Sir.  M. Pent. 
All which being finely contunded, and mixed in a stone or glass mortar, with the spirit of Diamber.  Sir Boun. 
Nay pray be patient Sir.  M. Pent. 
That's impossible, I cannot be Patient and a Physician too Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Oh, cry you mercy, that's true Sir.  M. Pent. 
All which aforesaid.  Sir Boun. 
ay, there you left Sir.  M. Pent. 
When it is almost exsiccate or dry, I add thereto olei Succini, olei Masi, & Sinamoni.  Sir Boun. 
So Sir, olei Masi, that same oil of Maze is a great comfort to both the Counters.  M. Pent. 
And has been of a long time Sir.  Sir Boun. 
Well, be of good cheer wench, there's gold for thee; huh, let her want for nothing M. Doctor, a poor kinswoman of mine, nature binds me to have a care of her; there I gulled you M. Doctor: gather up a good spirit wench, the fit will away, 'tis but a surfeit of gristles: ha, ha, I have fitted her; an old Knight and a cock a'th' game still, I have not spurs for nothing I see.  M. Pen. 
No by my faith, they're hatched, they cost you an Angel sir.  Sir Boun. 
Look to her good M. Doctor, let her want nothing, I've given her enough already, Ha, ha, ha.  Exit. Curt. 
So, is he gone?  M. Pen. 
he's like himself gone.  Curtiz. 
here's somewhat to set up with; how soon he took occasion to slip into his own flattery, soothing his own defects; he only fears he has done that deed, which I near feared to come from him in my life, this purchase came unlooked for.  M. Pen. 
H'ist, the pair of sons and heirs.  Curt. 
Oh, they're welcome, they bring money.  Enter M. Inesse and Possibility. Poss. 
M. Doctor.  M. Pent. 
I come to you Gentleman.  Poss. 
How does she now?  M. Pen. 
Faith much after one fashion sir.  Iness. 
There's hope of life sir.  M. Pen. 
I see no signs of death of her.  Poss. 
That's some comfort; will she take any thing yet?  M. Pen. 
Yes, yes, yes, she'll take still: sh'as a kind of facility in taking: how comes your band bloody sir?  Iness. 
You may see I met with a scab sir.  M. Pen. 
Diversa genera Scabierum, as Pliny reports, there are divers kind of Scabs.  Iness. 
Pray let's hear 'em sir.  M. Pen. 
An itching scab, that is your harlot; a sore scab, your usurer; a running, your promoter; a broad scab, your intelligencer; but a white scab, that's a scald knave and a Pander: but to speak truth, the only scabs we are now a days troubled withal, are new officers.  Inesse. 
Why now you come to mine sir, for I'll be sworn one of them was very busy about my head this morning, and he should be a scab by that, for they are ambitious and covet the head.  M. Pent. 
Why you saw I derived him sir?  Ines. 
You Physicians are mad Gentlemen.  M. Pent. 
We Physicians see the most sights of any men living, you're Astronomers look upward intoth' air, we look downward intoth' body, and indeed we have power upward and downward.  Ines. 
That you have i'faith sir.  Pos. 
Lady, how cheer you now?  Curtiz. 
The same woman still, huh.  Poss. 
That's not good.  Curtiz. 
Little alteration, Fie, fie, you have been to lavish Gentlemen.  Ines. 
Puh, talk not of that Lady, thy health's worth a million; here M. Doctor, spare for no cost.  Pos. 
Look what you find there sir.  Curtiz. 
What do you mean gentlemen, put up, put up, you see I'm down and cannot strive with you, I would rule you else; you have me at advantage, but if ever I live, I will requite it deeply.  Iness. 
Tut an't come to that once, we'll requite ourselves well enough.  Pos. 
Mist. Harebrain, Lady, is setting forth to visit you too.  Curtiz. 
Hah, huh.  M. Pen. 
There struck the minute that brings forth the birth of all my joys and wishes; but see the jar now, how shall I rid these from her?  Curti. 
Pray gentleman, stay not above an hour from my sight.  Ines. 
'Sfoot we are not going Lady.  M. Pen. 
Subtly brought about, yet 't will not do, they'll stick by't; a word with you gentlemen.  Both. 
What says M. Doctor?  M. Pen. 
She wants but settling of her sense with rest, one hours sleep gentlemen would set all parts in tune.  Pos. 
He says true i'faith.  Ines. 
Get her to sleep M. Doctor, we'll both sit here and watch by her.  M. Pen. 
hell's Angels watch you, no Art can prevail with 'em; what with the thought of joys, and sight of crosses, my wits are at Hercules' pillars, non plus vltra.  Curt. 
M. Doctor, M. Doctor?  M. Pen. 
Here Lady.  Curtiz. 
Your physic works, lend me your hand.  Pos. 
Farewell sweet Lady.  Ines. 
adieu M. Doctor.  Curt. 
So.  M. Pen. 
Let me admire thee,  
The wit of man, wanes and decreases soon,  
But women's wit is ever at full moon.  Enter mistress, Harebrain. 
There shot a star from heaven,  
I dare not yet behold my happiness.  
The splendour is so glorious and so piercing.  Curtiz. 
Mistress Harebrain, give my wit thanks hereafter, your wishes are in sight, your opportunity spacious.  Wife. 
Will you but hear a word from me?  Curtiz. 
Whooh—  Wife. 
My husband himself brought me toth' door, walks below for my return; jealousy is prick-eared, and will hear the waging of a hair.  Curtiz. 
Pish, you're a faint-liver, trust yourself with your pleasure, and me with your security, go.  M. Penitent 
The fullness of my wish.  Wife. 
Of my desire.  M. Pen. 
Beyond this sphere I never will aspire.  Exeunt Enter M. harebrain listening. Hareb. 
I'll listen, now the flesh draws nigh her end,  
At such a time women exchange their secrets,  
And ransack the close corners of their hearts;  
What many years hath whelmed, this hour imparts.  Curtiz. 
Pray sit down, there's a low stool, good Mistress Harebrain, this was kindly done; huh give me your hand; huh, alas how cold you are: e'en so is your husband, that worthy wise Gentleman; as comfortable a man to woman in my case, as ever trod— huh— shoe leather, love him, honour him, stick by him, he lets you want nothing, that's fit for a woman; and to be sure on't, he will see himself that you want it not.  Hareb. 
And so I do i'faith, 'tis right my humour.  Curt. 
You live a Lady's life with him, go where you will, ride when you will, and do what you will.  Hareb. 
Not so, not so neither, she's better looked to.  Curt. 
I know you do, you need not tell me that; 'twere e'en pity of your life i'faith, if ever you should wrong such an innocent gentleman; fie Mistress Harebrain, what do you mean? come you to discomfort me? nothing but weeping with you?  Hareb. 
she's weeping, t'as made her weep, my wife shows her good nature already.  Curt. 
Still, still weeping? huff, huff, huff, why how now woman? heigh, hy, hy, for shame leave; suh, suh, she cannot answer me for snobbing.  Hareb. 
All this does her good, beshrew my heart and I pity her, let her shed tears till morning; I'll stay for her, she shall have enough on't by my good will; I'll not be her hindrance.  Curt. 
O no, lay your hand here Mistress Harebrain: I there, Oh there, there lies my pain good gentlewoman: sore? Oh ay, I can scarce endure your hand upon't.  Hareb. 
Poor soul, how she's tormented.  Curtiz. 
Yes, yes, I eat a cullis an hour since.  Hareb. 
There's some comfort in that yet, she may scape it.  Curtiz. 
Oh it lies about my heart much.  Hareb. 
I'm sorry for that i'faith, she'll hardly scape it.  Curtiz. 
Bound, no, no, I'd a very comfortable stool this morning.  Hareb. 
I'm glad of that i'faith, that's a good sign, I smell, she'll scape it now.  Curtiz. 
Will you be going then?  Hareb. 
Fall back, she's coming.  Curtiz. 
Thanks good Mistress Harebrain, welcome sweet Mistress Harebrain, pray commend me to the good gentleman your husband.  Hareb. 
I could do that myself now.  Curtiz. 
And to my uncle Winchcomb, and to my Aunt Lipsalve, and to my cozen Falsetop, and to my cozen Lickit, and to my cozen Horseman, and to all my good cousins in Clerkenwell, and Saint joneses'.  Enter Wife with Master Penitent. Wife. 
At three days end my husband takes a journey.  M. Pent. 
Oh thence I derive a second meeting.  Wife. 
May it prosper still, Till then I rest a captive to his will: Once again health, rest, and strength to thee sweet Lady: farewell, you witty squall; good M. Doctor have a care to her body if yous stand her friend, I know you can do her good.  Curtiz. 
Take pity of your waiter, go: farewell sweet Mistress Harebrain.  Hareb. 
Welcome sweet wife, alight upon my lip, never was hour spent better.  Wife. 
Why, were you within the hearing sir?  Hareb. 
I that I was i'faith, to my great comfort; I deceived you there wife, ha, ha;  
I do entreat thee, nay conjure thee wife  
Upon my love, or what can more be said?  
Oftener to visit this sick virtuous maid.  Wife. 
Be not so fierce, your will shallbe obeyed.  Hareb. 
Why then I see thou lov'st me.  Exeunt. M. Peni. 
Art of Ladies.  
When plots are e'en past hope, and hang their head,  
Set with a woman's hand, they thrive and spread.  Exit. Enter Folly-wit with Lieutenant maw-worm, Ancient Hoboy, and the rest of his consorts. Folly-w. 
Wast not well managed, you necessary mischiefs? did the plot want either life or Art?  Lief. 
'ttwas so well Captain, I would you could make such another Musse at all adventures.  Folly w. 
Dost call't a Musse? I am sure my Grandsire near got his money worse in his life, than I got it from him, if ever he did cozen the simple; why I was borne to revenge their quarrel; if ever oppress the widow? ay, a fatherless child have done as much for him; and so 'tis through the world either in jest or earnest, let the usurer look for't, for craft recoils in the end, like an overcharged musket, and maims the very hand that puts fire too't; there needs no more but a usurers own blow to strike him from hence to hell, 'twill set him forward with a vengeance; but here lay the jest whoresons, my Grandsire thinking in his conscience that we had not robbed him enough o'er night, must needs pity me i'th' morning, and give me the rest.  Lieft. 
Two hundred pounds in fair Rose-Nobles I protest.  Folly-w. 
Push, I knew he could not sleep quietly till he had paid me for robing of him too, 'tis his humour, & the humour of most of your rich men in the course of their lives; for you know, they always feast those mouths that are least needy, and give them more, that have too much already; and what call you that, but robing of themselves a courtlier way; Oh.  Lieft. 
Cuds me, how now Captain?  Folly-w. 
A cold fit that comes over my memory, and has a shrewd pull at my fortunes.  Lieft. 
What's that Sir?  Folly-w. 
Is it for certain, Lieutenant, that my Grandsire keeps an uncertain creature, a Quean?  Lieft. 
I that's too true Sir.  Folly-w. 
So much the more preposterous for me, I shall  
hop shorter by that trick; she carries away the thirds at least;  
'twill prove entailed land I am afraid when als done, i'faith  
nay, I have known a vicious-old-thought-acting Father,  
Damned only in his dreams, thirsting for game,  
(When his best parts hung down their heads for shame,)  
For his blanched harlot dispossess his son,  
And make the pox his heir, 'twas gravely done:  
How hadst thou first knowledge on't Lieutenant?  Lieft. 
Faith from discourse, yet all the policy That I could use, I could not get her name.  Folly-w. 
Dull slave that ne'er couldst spy it.  Lieft. 
But the manner of her coming was described to me.  Folly-w. 
How is the manner prithee?  Lieft. 
Marry sir she comes, most commonly coached.  Folly w. 
Most commonly coached indeed, for coaches are as common now adays, as some that ride in 'em, she comes most commonly coached.  Lief. 
True, there I left sir, guarded with some leash of Pimps.  Folly-w. 
Beside the coachman?  Lieft. 
Right sir, then alighting, she's privately received by master Gunwater.  Folly-w. 
That's my grandsire's chief Gentleman i'th' chain of gold, that he should live to be a Pander, and yet look upon his chain and his velvet jacket  Lieft. 
Then is your Grandsire rounded i'th' ear, the key given after the Italian fashion, backward, she closely conveyed into his closet, there remaining, till either opportunity smile upon his credit, or he send down some hot caudle to take order in his performance.  Folly-w. 
Peace, 'tis mine own i'faith, I hate.  Lieft. 
How now Sir?  Folly-w. 
Thanks, thanks to any spirit, That mingled it 'mongst my inventions.  Anti. 
Why master Folly-wit?  All. 
Captain?  Folly-w. 
Give me scope and hear me,  
I have begot that means which will both furnish me,  
And make that quean walk under his conceit.  Leift. 
That were double happiness, to put thyself into money and her out of favour.  Folly-w. 
And all at one dealing?  Ant. 
'Sfoot I long to see that hand played,  Folly-w. 
And thou shalt see't quickly i'faith; nay 'tis in grain, I warrant it hold colour: Lieutenant, step behind yon hanging; if I mistook not at my entrance, there hangs the lower part of a gentlewoman's gown, with a mask and a chin-clout; bring all this way: Nay, but do't cunningly now, 'tis a friend's house, and I'd use it so, there's a taste for you.  Ant. 
But prithee what wilt thou do with a Gentlewoman's lower part?  Folly-w. 
Why use it.  Ant. 
Y'ave answered me indeed in that, I can demand no farther.  Folly. 
Well said Lieutenant.  Leift. 
What will you do now sir?  Folly-w. 
Come, come, thou shalt see a woman quickly made up here.  Leift. 
But that's against kind Captain, for they are always long a making ready.  Folly-w. 
And is not most they do against kind I prithee? to lie with their Horse-keeper, is not that against kind? to wear half moons made of another's hair, is not that against kind? to drink down a man, she that should set him up, pray is not that monstrously against kind now? nay over with it Lieutenant, over with it, ever while you live put a woman's clothes over her head: Cupid plays best at blindman buff.  Leift. 
You shall have your will maintenance, I love mad tricks as well as you for your heart sir; but what shift will you make for upper Body's Captain?  Fol. 
I see now thou'rt an Ass, why I'm ready.  Leift. 
Ready?  Folly. 
Why the Doublet serves as well as the best, and is most in fashion, were all Male toth' middle, mankind from the Beaver toth' Bum, 'tis an Amazonian time, you shall have women shortly tread their husbands; I should have a couple of Locks behind, prithee Lieutenant find 'em out for me, and wind 'em about my hatband, nay you shall see, we'll be in fashion to a hair, and become all with probability, the most musty-visage Critic shall not except against me.  Left. 
Nay i'll give thee thy due behind thy back, thou art as mad a piece of Clay—  Folly. 
Clay! dost call thy Captain Clay? indeed clay was made to stop holes, he says true; did not I tell you rascals you should see a woman quickly made up?  Antient. 
I'll swear for't Captain.  Folly. 
Come, come, my mask and my chin-clout— Come intoth' Court.  Left. 
Nay they were both i'th' Court long ago sir.  Folly. 
Let me see, where shall I choose two or three for Pimps now? but I cannot choose amiss amongst you all, that's the best; well, as I am a Quean, you were best have a care of me, and guard me sure, I give you warning before hand, 'tis a monkey taylde-Age. Life, you shall go nigh to have half a dozen blithe fellows surprise me cowardly, carry me away with a pair of oars, and put in at Putney.  Left. 
We should laugh at that i'faith.  Folly. 
Or shoot in upo'th' coast of Cue.  Left. 
Two notable fit landing places for lechers, P. and C. Putney and Cue.  Folly. 
Well, say you have fair warning on't, the hair about the hat is as good as a flag upo'th' pole at a common Playhouse to waste company, and a chin-clout is of that powerful attraction I can tell you, 'twill draw more Linen too't?  Left. 
Fear not us Captain, there's none here but can fight for a whore as well as some Inns a Courtman?  Follie. 
Why then set forward; and as you scorn two shilling brothel, twelve penny Pandarism, and such base bribes, guard me from bonny Scribs, and bony Scribes.  Left 
Hang 'em, pensions, and allowances, four pence half penny a meal, hang 'em.  Exeunt. 
Finit Actus Tertius.   

Incipit Actus Quartus.  Enter in his chamber out of his study, Master Panitent, Once, Ill, a Book in his hand reading. Mast. Pae. 
Ha? read that place again,— Adultery  
Draws the Divorce twixt heaven and the soul!  
Accursed man that standst divorced from heaven,  
Thou wretched unthrift, that hast played away  
Thy Eternal portion at a minute's game,  
To please the flesh, hast blotted out thy name:  
Where were thy nobler meditations busied?  
That they durst trust this body with itself,  
This natural drunkard that undoes us all,  
And makes our shame apparent in our fall.  
Then let my blood pay for't, and vex and boil,  
My soul I know would never grieve toth' death,  
The Eternal spirit that feeds her with his breath:  
Nay I that knew the price of life and sin,  
What Crown is kept for continence, what for lust?  
The end of man, and glory of that end  
As endless as the giver:  
To dote on weakness, slime, corruption, woman?  
What is she, took asunder from her clothes?  
Being ready, she consists of hundred pieces,  
Much like your German cloak, and near allied  
Both are so nice, they cannot go for pride.  
Beside a greater fault, but too well known,  
They'll strike to ten, when they should stop at one;  
Within these three days the next meeting's fixed,  
If I meet then, hell and my soul be mixed.  
My lodging I know constantly, she not knows,  
Sins hate is the best gift that sin bestows:  
I'll near embrace her more,— never— better witness, never.  Enter the Devil in her shape, claps him on the shoulder. Succubus. 
What at a stand? the fitter for my company?  Mast. Pae. 
Celestial soldiers guard me,-  Succubus. 
How now man? Alas did the quickness of my presence fright thee?  Mast. Pae. 
Shield me you ministers of faith and grace.  Succubus. 
Leave, leave, are you not ashamed to use such words to a woman?  Mast. Pae. 
thouart a Devil.  Suc. 
A devil? feel, feel man, has a devil flesh and bone?  Mast Pae. 
I do conjure thee by that dreadful power—  Suc. 
The man has a delight to make me tremble;  
Are these the fruits of thy adventurous Love?  
Was I enticed for this? to be soon rejected?  
Come, what has changed thee so, Delight;  Mast. Pae. 
Away.  Succubus. 
Remember.  Mast. Pae. 
Leave my sight.  Suc. 
Have I this meeting wrought with cunning.  
Which when I come I find thee shunning?  
Rouse thy amorous thoughts and twine me,  
All my interest I resign thee:  
Shall we let slip this mutual hour,  
Comes so seldom in her power?  
where's thy lip, thy clip, thy fathom?  
Had women such loves. will't not mad 'em?  
Art a man? or dost abuse one?  
A Love! and know'st not how to use one?  
Come, i'll teach thee—  Mast. Pa. 
Do not follow.  Succubus. 
Once so firm and now so hollow?  
When was place and season sweeter?  
Thy bliss in sight and dar'st not meet her?  
where's thy courage youth and vigour?  
love's best pleased, when 't's seared with rigour:  
sear me then with veins most cheerful,  
Women love no flesh that's fearful;  
'tis but a fit, come Drink't away,  
And dance and sing, and kiss and play— Fa le  
La, le la, Fa le la, le la la; Fa le la, fa la le  
La le la.  Mast. Paen. 
Torment me not.  Succu. 
Fa le la, fa le la, fa la la, loh.  Mast. Pae. 
Fury.  Succu. 
Fa le la, fa le la, fa la la loh.  Mast. Pae. 
Devil! I do conjure thee once again,  
By that soul-quaking thunder to depart,  
And leave this chamber, freed from thy damned Art.  Succu. 
Stamps—  and Exit. Mast. Pae. 
It has prevailed— Oh my sin-shaking Sinews! what should I think? jesper, why jesper.  jesper. 
Sir! how now? what has disturbed you sir.  Mast. Pae. 
A fit, a qualm,— is mistress Hargrave gone?  jesper. 
Who sir? mistress Hargrave?  Mast. Pae. 
Is she gone I say?  jesper. 
Gone? why she was never here yet.  Mast. Pae. 
No!  jesper. 
Why no sir.  Mast. Pae. 
Art sure on't.  jesper. 
Sure on't? if I be sure I breath, and am myself?  Mast. Pae. 
I like it not;— where kepst thou?  jesper. 
Ith' next room sir.  Mast. Pae. 
Why she struck by thee man.  jesper. 
You'd make one mad sir, that a gentlewoman should steal by me and I not hear her, 'sfoot, one may hear the rustling of their bums almost an hour before we see 'em.  Mast. Pae. 
I will be satisfied,— although to hazard,  
What though her husband meet me? I am honest;  
When men's intents are wicked, their guilt haunts 'em,  
But when they're just, they're armed, and nothing daunts 'em.  jesper. 
What strange humour call you this? he dreams of women and both his eyes broad open!  Exeunt. Enter at one door Sir Bounteous, at another Gum-water. Sir Boun. 
Why how now master Gumwater? what's the news with your haste?  Gum. 
I have a thing to tell your worship—  Sir Boun. 
Why prithee tell me, speak man.  Gum. 
Your worship shall pardon me, I have better bringing up then so.  Sir. Boun. 
How sir?  Gum. 
'tis a thing made fit for your Ear sir—  Sir. Boun. 
Oh— o— o— cry you mercy, now I begin to taste you,— is she come?  Gum. 
she's come sir?  Sir Boun 
Recovered, well and sound again?  Gum. 
That's to be feared sir.  Sir Boun. 
Why sir?  Gum. 
She wears a Linen cloth about her jaw,  Sir Boun. 
Ha, ha, haw,— why that's the fashion you whoreson Gumwater.  Gum. 
The fashion sir? live I so long time to see that a fashion, which rather was an Emblem of dispraise, It was suspected much in monsieurs days.  Sir Boun. 
ay, ay, in those days, that was a queasy time, our age is better hardened now, and put oftener in the fire, we are tried what we are: tut, the Pox is as natural now, as an Ague in the Spring time, we seldom take physic without it; here, take this key, you knew what duties belong too't, go,— give order for a cullis, let there be a good fire made i'th' matted chamber, do you hear sir?—  Gum. 
I know my office sir.  Exit. Sir Boun. 
An old man's venery is very chargeable my masters, there much cookery belongs too't.  Exit. Enter Gumwater with Follywet in Courtesans disguise, and masked. Gum. 
Come Lady, you know where you are now?  Folly. 
Yes, good master Gumwater.  Gum. 
This is the old closet you know.  Folly. 
I remember it well sir.  Gum. 
There stands a Casket, I would my yearly revenue were but worth the wealth that's locked in't Lady; yet I have fifty pound a year wench.  Folly. 
Beside your apparel sir?  Gum. 
Yes faith have I.  Folly. 
But then you reckon your chain sir.  Gum. 
No by my troth do I not, neither: faith and you consider me rightly sweet Lady, you might admit a choice gentleman into your service.  Folly. 
Oh, pray away sir.  Gum. 
Pusha come, come, you do but hinder your fortunes i'faith, I have the command of all the house, I can tell you, nothing comes intoth' kitchen, but comes through my hands.  Folly. 
Pray do not handle me sir.  Gum. 
Faith you're too nice Lady: and as for my secrecy you know I have vowed it often to you.  Folly. 
Vowed it? no, no, you men are fickle,—  Gum. 
Fickle?— 'sfoot bind me Lady—  Folly. 
Why I bind you by virtue of this chain to meet me tomorrow at the flower-de-luce yonder, between Nine and Ten.  Gum. 
And if I do not Lady let me lose it, thy love and my best fortunes?  Folly. 
Why now i'll try you, go too.  Gum. 
Farewell sweet Lady.  kisses her Exit. Folly. 
Welcome sweet coxcomb; by my faith a good induction, I perceive by his overworn phrase, and his action toward the middle region still there has been some saucy nibbling motion, and no doubt the cunning quean waited but for her prey, and I think 'tis better bestowed upon me for his soul's health;— and his bodies too; i'll teach the slave to be so bold yet, as once to offer to vault into his master's saddle i'faith: Now Casket, by your leave, I have seen your outside oft, but that's no proof. Some have fair outsides that are nothing worth: ha?— now by my faith a gentlewoman of very good parts, Diamond, Ruby, sapphire, onyx cum prolo Silexque; if I do not wonder how the quean 'scaped tempting, I'm an hermaphrodite, sure she could lack nothing, but the Devil to point too't, and I wonder that he should be missing; well, 'tis better as it is, this is the fruit of old-grunting-venery. Grandsire, you may thank your Drab for this; oh fie, in your crinkling days Grandsire, keep a Courtesan to hinder your Grandchild, 'tis against Nature i'faith, and I hope you'll be weary on't: Now to my villains that lurk close below: Who keeps a Harlot tell him this from me, He needs nor these, disease, nor enemy.  Exit. Enter Sir Bounteous. Sir Boun. 
Ah sirrah, methink I feel myself well toasted, bombasted, rubbed and refreshed; but i'faith I cannot forget to think how soon sickness has altered her— to my taste, I gave her a kiss at bottom o'th' stairs, and byth' mass methought her breath had much ado to be sweet, like a thing compounded methought of wine, Beer, and Tobacco, I smelled much Pudding in't. It may be but my fancy, or her physic: For this I know, her health gave such content, The fault rests in her sickness, or my scent. How dost thou now sweet girl, what well recovered? Sickness quite gone, ha? speak— ha? wench? Frank Gulman, why body of me, what's here? my Casket wide open, broke open, my jewels stolen— why Gumwater—  Gum. 
Anon anon sir.  Sir Boun. 
Come hither Gumwater.  Gum. 
That were small manners sir i'faith, i'll find a time anon your worship's busy yet.  Sir Boun. 
Why Gumwater?  Gum 
Foe nay then you'll make me blush i'faith sir.—  Sir Boun. 
Where's this Creature?  Gum. 
What creature be't you'd have sir?  Sir Boun. 
The worst that ever breathes.  Gum. 
That's a wild Boar sir.  Sir Boun. 
That's a wild whore sir;— where didst thou leave her Rascal?  Gum. 
Who? your Recreation sir.  Sir Boun. 
My Execration sir.  Gum. 
Where I was wont, in your worship's closet.  Sir Boun 
A pox engross her, it appears too true, See you this Casket sir.  Gum. 
My chain, my chain, my chain, my one and only chain.  Exit. Sir Boun. 
Thou run'st too much purpose now, Gumwater, ye? Is not a Quean enough to answer for, but she must join a thief too't, a thieving Quean, Nay I have done with her i'faith, 'tis a sign sh'as been sick a late, for she's a great deal worse than she was, by my troth I would have pawned my life upon't, did she want anything? was she not supply de?  
Nay and liberally, for that's an old man's sin,  
we'll feast our Lechery, though we starve our kin.  
Is not my name Sir Bounteous, am I not expressed there?  
Ah fie, fie, fie, fie, fie, but I perceive  
Though she have never so complete a friend,  
a strumpet's love will have a waste i'th' end,  
and distaste the vessel: I can hardly bear this;  
But say I should complain, perhaps she has pawned 'em,  
'sfoot the judges will but laugh at it, and bid her borrow  
more money of 'em, make the old fellow pay for's lechery,  
that's all the mends I get, I have seen the same Case tried at  
Newbery the last Sizes.  
Well, things must slip and sleep, I will dissemble it,  
because my credit shall not lose her lustre,  
But whilst I live, i'll neither love nor trust her.  
I ha' done, I ha' done, I ha' done with her i'faith.  Exit. Master penitent Once-Ill-knocking within; enter a servus. Enter Master penitent Seruus. 
who's that knocks?  Mast. Pae 
A friend.  Seruus. 
What's your will sir?  Ma. Pae. 
Is master Hargrave at home?  Seruus. 
No, newly gone from it sir.  Mast. Pae. 
Where's the gentlewoman his wife?  Seruus. 
My mistress is within sir.  Mast. Pae. 
When came she in I pray?  Seruus. 
Who my mistress? she was not out these two days to my knowledge.  Mast. Pae. 
No? trust me I'd thought I'd seen her, I would request a word with her.  Seruus. 
I'll tell her sir.  Mast. Pae. 
I thank you— It likes me worse and worse.—  Enter mistress Hargrave. Wife. 
Why how now sir? 'twas desperately adventured, I little looked for you until the morrow.  Mast. Pae. 
No? why what made you at my chamber then even now?  Wife. 
I at your chamber?  Mast. Pae. 
Puh— dissemble not, come, come, you were there.  Wife. 
By my life you wrong me sir.  Mast. Pae. 
What?  Wife. 
First you're not ignorant what watch keeps o'er me, And for your chamber, as I live I know't not.  Mast. Pae. 
Burst into sorrow then, and griefs extremes, Whilst I beat on this flesh.  Wife. 
What be't disturbs you sir?—  Mast. Pae. 
Then was the devil in your likeness there.  Wife. 
Ha?  Mast. Pae. 
The very Devil assumed thee formally,  
That face, that voice, that gesture, that attire,  
e'en as it sits on thee, not a pleat altered,  
That Beaver band, the colour of that Periwig,  
The Farthingale above the Navel, all;  
As if the fashion were his own invention,  Wife. 
Mercy defend me.  Mast. Pae. 
To beguile me more.  
The cunning Succubus told me that meeting  
Was wrought a purpose by much wit and Art,  
Wept to me, laid my vows before me, urged me,  
Gave me the private marks of all our Love,  
Wood me in wanton and effeminate rhymes,  
And sung and danced about me like a Fairy,  
And had not worthier cogitations blessed me,  
Thy form and his enchantments had possessed me.  Wife. 
What shall become of me my own thoughts doom me.  Mast. Pae. 
Be honest; then the Devil will near assume thee,  
He has no pleasure in that shape to abide,  
Where these two sisters reign not, lust of pride;  
He as much trembles at a constant mind  
As looser flesh at him,— be not dismayed:  
Spring souls for joy, his policies are betrayed;  
Forgive me mistress Hargrave, on whose soul  
The guilt hangs double,  
My lust and thy enticement: both I challenge,  
And therefore of due vengeance it appeared  
To none but me to whom both sins inhered;  
What knows the lecher when he clips his whore  
Whether it be the Devil his parts adore:  
They're both so like, that in our Natural sense,  
I could discern no change nor difference.  
No marvel then times should so stretch and turn  
None for Religion, all for pleasure burn.  
Hot zeal into hot lust is now transformed,  
Grace into painting, charity into clothes,  
Faith into false hair, and put off as often,  
There's nothing but our virtue knows a mean,  
He that kept open house now keeps a Quean.  
He will keep open still, that he commends,  
And there he keeps a table for his friends:  
And she consumes more than her Sire could hoard,  
Being more common than his house or board:  Enter Hargrave. 
Live honest, and live happy, keep thy vows,  
she's part a Virgin whom but one man knows:  
Embrace thy husband, and beside him none,  
Having but one heart, give it but to one.  Wife. 
I vow it on my knees, with tears true bred  
No man shall ever wrong my husband's bed.  Mast. Pae. 
Rise, I'm thy friend for ever.  Harebraine. 
And I thine  
For ever and ever,— Let me embrace thee sir, whom I will  
love, even next unto my soul, and that's my wife,  
Two dear Rare Gems this hour presents me with,  
A wife that's modest, and a friend that's right,  
Idle suspect and fear, now take your flight.  Mast. Pae. 
A happy inward peace crown both your joys  Harebrain. 
Thanks above utterance to you,— now? the news?  Seruus. 
Sir Bounteous Progress sir,  
Invites you and my mistress to a feast,  
On Tuesday next; his man attends without—  Harebraine. 
Return both with our willingness and thanks.  
I will entreat you sir, to be my guest.  Mast. Pae. 
Who I sir.  Harg. 
Faith you shall.  Mast. Pae. 
Well, i'll break strife.  Harebraine. 
A friend's so rare, i'll sooner part from life.  Enter Folly-wit, the Courtesan striving from him. Folly. 
What so coy, so strict, come, come.  Cur. 
Pray change your opinion sir, I am not for that use.  Follie. 
Will you but hear me?  Cur. 
I shall hear that I would not.  Exit. Folly. 
'sfoot this is strange, I've seldom seen a wench Stand upon stricter points, life she will not endure to be courted, does she ere think to prosper? I'll near believe that Tree can bring forth fruit, that never bears a blossom, Courtships a blossom, and often brings forth fruit in forty weeks; 'twere a mad part in me, now to turn over: if ever there were any hope on't, 'tis at this instant, shall I be madder now than ever I have been? I'm in the way i'faith.  
Man's never at high height of madness full,  
Until he love and prove a woman's gull;  
I do protest in earnest I near knew  
At which end to begin to affect a woman,  
Till this bewitching minute, I near saw  
Face worth my object, till mine eye met hers, I should laugh and I were caught i'faith, I'll see her again that's certain, whate'er comes on't, by your favour Ladies.  Enter the Mother. Mother. 
You're welcome sir.  Folly. 
Know you the young gentlewoman that went in lately?  Mo. 
I have best cause to know her, I'm her mother sir.  Folly. 
Oh in good time, I like the gentlewoman well, a pretty contrived beauty,  Mother. 
ay, nature has done her part sir.  Folly. 
But she has one uncomely quality.  Mother. 
What's that sir?  Folly. 
'sfoot she's afraid of a man.  Mother. 
A lass, impute that to her bashful spirit, she's fearful of her honour.  Folly. 
Of her honour? slid I'm sure I cannot get her maiden head with breathing upon her, nor can she lose her honour in her tongue.  Mother. 
True, and I have often told her so, but what would you have of a foolish virgin sir, a wilful virgin, I tell you sir, I need not have been in that solitary estate that I am, had she had grace and boldness to have put herself forward, always timorsome, always backward, ah that same peevish honour of hers, has undone her and me both good gentleman: the suitors, the jewels, the jointures that has been offered her, we had been made women for ever, but what was her fashion? she could not endure the sight of a man for sooth, but run and hole herself presently, so choice of her honour, I am persuaded, when ere she has husband, she will e'en be a precedent for all married wives, how to direct their actions, and their lives.  Folly. 
Have you not so much power with her, to command her presence.  Mother. 
You shall see straight what I can do sir.  Exit. Folly. 
Would I might be hanged, if my love do not stretch to her deeper and deeper, those bashful maiden humours take me prisoner when their comes a restraint on't upon flesh, we are always most greedy upon't, & that makes your merchant's wife oftentimes pay so dear for a mouthful: give me a woman as she was made at first, simple of herself, without Sophistication, like this wench, I cannot abide them when they have tricks, set speeches & Artful entertainments, you shall have some so impudently aspected, they will outcry the forehead of a man, make him blush first, & talk him into silence, & this is counted manly in a woman, it may hold so, sure womanly it is not, no, If ere I love, or any thing move me,  
'twill be a woman's simple modesty.  Enter Mother bringing in strivingly the Courtesan. Curte. 
Pray let me go, why mother what do you mean? I beseech you mother? is this your conquest now? great glory 'tis to overcome a poor and silly virgin.  Folly. 
The wonder of our time sits in that brow,  
I near beheld a perfect man till now.  Mo. 
Thou childish thing, more bashful than thou'rt wise,  
Why dost thou turn aside, and drown thine eyes?  
Look fearful fool, there's no temptation near thee,  
Art not ashamed that any flesh should fear thee,  
Why I durst pawn my life the gentleman means no other but honest and pure love to thee, how say you sir?  Folly. 
By my faith not I Lady.  Mo. 
Hark you there? what think you now forsooth? what grieves your honour now?  
Or what lascivious breath intends to rear  
Against that maiden Organ your chaste care?  
Are you resolved now better of men's hearts?  
Their faiths and their affections, with you none,  
Or at most, few whose tongues and minds are one.  
Repent you now of your opinion past,  
Men love as purely as you can be chaste: to her yourself sir,  
The ways broke before you, you have the easier passage,  Folly. 
Fear not, come; erect thy happy graces in thy look;  
I am no curious wooer, but in faith  
I love thee honourably.  Cu. 
How mean you that sir?  Folly. 
'sfoot as one loves a woman for a wife,  Mother. 
Has the gentleman answered you, trow?  Folly. 
I do confess it truly to you both,  
My estate is yet but sickly, but I've a Grandsire  
Will make me Lord of thousands at his death.  Mother. 
I know your Grandsire well; she knows him better.  Folly. 
Why then you know no fiction; my state then will be a long days journey 'bove the waist wench.  Mo. 
Nay daughter he says true.  Folly. 
And thou shalt often measure it in thy coach,  
And with the wheels tract make a griddle for't.  Mo. 
Ah 'twill be a merry journey.  Folly. 
What be't a match, if't be clap hands & lips;  Mo. 
'tis done, there's witness on't.  Folly. 
Why then mother I salute you.  Mother. 
Thanks sweet son;— Son Folliwit, come hither, if I might counsel thee, we'll e'en take her while the good moods upon her, send for a Priest, and clapped up within this hour.  Folly. 
By my troth agreed mother.  Mo. 
Nor does her wealth consist all in her flesh,  
Though beauty be enough wealth for a woman,  
She brings a Dowry of three hundred pound with her.  Folly. 
'sfoot that will serve till my Grandsire dies I warrant you, he'll drop away at fall a'th' leaf, if ever he reach to all Hollantide i'll be hanged.  Mother. 
O yes son, he's a lusty old gentleman.  Folly. 
Ah pox, he's given to women; he keeps a quean at this present.  Mo. 
Fie.  Folly. 
Do not tell my wife on't.  Mother. 
That were needless i'faith.  Folly. 
He makes a great feast upon the eleventh of this month, tuesday next, and you shall see Players there,— I have one trick more to put upon him; my wife and yourself shall go thither before as my guests, and prove his entertainment, I'll meet you there at night, the jest will be here, that feast which he makes will, unknown to him serve fitly for our wedding dinner, we shall be royally furnished, and get some charges by't't.  Mo. 
An excellent course (i'faith) and a thrifty, why son, methinks you begin to thrive before you're married.  Folly. 
We shall thrive one day wench, and clep enough? Between our hopes there's but a grandsire's puff.  Exit. Mo. 
So girl, here was a bird well caught.  Cur. 
If ever, here: but what for'rs Grandsire, 'twill scarce please him well.  Mo. 
Who covets fruit, near cares from whence it fell,  
Thou'st wedded youth and strength, and wealth will fall:  
Last thou'rt made honest.  Cur. 
And that's worth 'em all.  Exeunt.  

Actus Quintus.  Actus Quintus: ulli. Enter busily Sir Bounteous Progress for the feast. Sir Boun. 
Have a care blue-coats; bestir yourself Master Gumwater, cast an eye intoth' kitchen, o'erlook the knaves a little, every lack has his friend today, this x and that x puts in for a dish of meat, a man knows not till he make a feast how many varlets he feeds, acquaintances swarm in every corner, like flies at Bartholmew-tide that come up with drovers, 'sfoot I think they smell my kitchen seven mile about master Shortrod and his sweet bedfellow, you're very copiously welcome.  Harebrain. 
Sir, here's an especial dear friend of ours, we were bold to make his way to your table.  Sir Boun. 
Thanks for that boldness ever, good Master Shortrod, is this your friend sir?  Hareb. 
Both my wife's friend and mine sir.  Sir Boun. 
Why then compendiously sir,— you're welcome.  Mast. Pae. 
In Octavo I thank you sir.  Sir Boun. 
Excellently retorted i'faith, he's welcome for's wit; I have my sorts of salutes, and know how to place 'em Courtly; walk in sweet gentlemen, walk in, there's a good fire i'th' Hall, you shall have my sweet company instantly.  Harebraine. 
I good sir Bounteous  Enter Semus. Sir Boun. 
You shall indeed gentlemen; how now, what news brings thee in stumbling now?  Semus. 
There are certain Players come to town sir, and desire to interlude before your worship.  Sir Boun. 
Players? by the mass they are welcome, they'll grace my entertainment well, but for certain players there thou liest boy; they were never more uncertain in their lives, now up & now down, they know not when to play, where to play, nor what to play, not when to play for fearful fools, where to play for Puritan fools, nor what to play for critical fools— go call 'em in,— how fitly the whoresons come upo'th' feast, troth I was een wishing for 'em,— oh welcome, welcome my friends.  Folly. 
The month of May delights not in her flowers, More than we joy in that sweet sight of yours.  Sir Boun. 
Well acted a my credit, I perceive he's your best Actor.  Semus. 
He has greatest share sir; and may live of himself sir.  Sir Boun. 
What what? put on your hat sir, pray put on; go too, wealth must be respected, let those that have least feathers stand bare; and whose men are you I pray? nay keep on your hat still.  Folly. 
We serve my Lord Owemuch sir.  S. Boun. 
My L. Owemuch, by my troth the welcom'st men alive give me all your hands at once, that honourable gentleman? he lay at my house in a robbery once, and took all quietly, went away cheerfully. I made a very good feast for him; I never saw a man of honour bear things bravelier away, serve my L. Owemuch? welcome i'faith: some Bastard for my Lords Players,— where be you boys?  Folly. 
They come along with the wagon sir.  Sir Boun. 
Good, good, and which is your Politician amongst you? now i'faith he that works out Restraints, makes best legs at Court and has a suit made of purpose, for the company's business, which is he, come, be not afraid of him.  Folly. 
I am he sir.  Sir Boun. 
Art thou he? give me thy hand, hark in thine ear, thou row lest too fast to gather so much moss as thy fellow there, champ upon that, ah, and what play shall we have my masters?  Folly. 
A pleasant witty Comedy sir.  Sir Boun. 
ay, ay, ay, a Comedy in any case, that I and my guests may laugh a little, what's the name out?  Folly. 
'tis called the Slip.  Sir Boun. 
The Slip? By my troth a pretty name, and a glib one: go all and slip into'ot, as fast as you can cover a table for the players. First take heed of a Lurcher, he cuts deep, he will eat up all from you. Some sherry for my Lords players there. Sirrah, why this will be a True feast, a right Mitre supper, a play and all, more lights— I called for light, here come in two are light enough for a whole house i'faith. Dare the thief look me i'th' face? O impudent times! go too, dissemble it.  Enter Mother and Courtesan. Moth. 
Bless you sir Bounteous.  Sir Bount. 
O welcome, welcome, Thief, Quean, and Bawd, welcome all three.  Moth. 
Nay here's but two on's sir.  Sir Boun. 
A my troth, I took her for a couple, I'd have sworn there had been two faces there.  Moth. 
Not all under one hood sir.  Sir Boun. 
Yes faith would I, to see mine eyes bear double.  Moth. 
He make it hold sir, my daughter is a couple, She was married yesterday. Sir Boun. Buz.  Moth. 
Nay to no buzzard neither, a right Hawk When ere you know him.  Sir Boun. 
Away, he cannot be but a Rascal, walk in walk in, bold guests, that come unsent for— post, I perceive how my jewels went now, to grace her marriage.  Curt. 
Would you with me sir?  Sir Boun. 
ay, how happed it wench, you put the slip upon me,  
Not three nights since? I name it gently to you,  
I term it neither Pilfer, Cheat, nor Shark.  Curt. 
youare past my reach.  Sir Boun. 
I'm old and past your reach, very good; but you will not deny this I trust.  Curt. 
With a safe conscience, sir.  Sir Boun. 
Ye? give me thy hand, fare thee well, I have done with her.  Curt. 
Give me your hand, sir, you near yet begun with me.  Exit. Sir Boun. 
Whew, whew? O audacious age.  
She denies me and all, when on her fingers,  
I spied the Ruby sit, that does betray her,  
And blushes for her fact, well there's a time for't,  
For als too little now for entertainment.  
Feast, mirth, I harmony, and the play to boot.  
A jovial Season. How now, are you ready?  Enter Folly-wit. Folly. 
even upon readiness sir.  Sir Boun. 
Keep you your hat on.  Takes it off. Folly. 
I have a suit to your worship.  Sir Boun. 
Oh cry you mercy, than you must stand bare.  Folly. 
We could do all to the life of action sir, both for the credit of your worship's house, and the grace of our Comedy.  Sir Boun. 
Cuds me, what else sir?  Folly. 
And for some defects (as the custom is) we would be bold to require your worship's assistance.  Sir Boun. 
Why with all my heart, what be't you want? speak.  Folly. 
One's a chain for a justices hat sir.  Sir Boun. 
Why here, here, here, here whoreson, will this serve your turn?  Sir Bo. 
What else lack you?  Folly. 
We should use a ring with a stone in't.  Sir Boun. 
Nay whoop, I have given too many rings already, talk no more of rings I pray you, here, here, here, make this jewel serve for once.  Folly. 
Oh this will serve sir.  Sir Boun. 
What have you all now?  Folly. 
All now sir— one i' time is brought i'th' middle of the play, and I would desire your worship's watch time.  Sir Boun. 
My watch, with all my heart, only give time a charge that he be not fiddling with it.  Folly. 
You shall near see that sir.  Sir Boun. 
Well now you are furnish sir, make haste away.  Folly. 
e'en as fast as i can sir,— I'll set my fellows going first, they must have time and leisure, or they're dull else. He stay and speak a prologue, yet o'ertake 'em, I cannot have conscience i'faith to go away and speak near a word to 'em, my Grandsire has given me three shares here, sure I'll do somewhat for 'em.  Exit. Enter Sir Bounteous and all the Guests. Sir Boun. 
More lights, more stools, sit sit, the play begins.  Short. 
Have you players here Sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
We have 'em for you sir, fine nimble Comedians, proper actors most of them.  Mast. Pae. 
Whose men I pray you sir?  Sir Boun. 
Oh, there's their credit sir, they serve an honourable popular Gentleman, yclept my Lord Owemuch.  Short. 
My Lord Owemuch, he was in Ireland lately.  Sir Boun. 
O you near knew any of the name but were great travelers,  Short. 
How is the Comedy called, Sir Bounteous?  Sir Boun. 
Mary sir, the Slip.  Short. 
The Slip?  Sir Bou. 
ay, and here the prologue begins to slip in upon's.  Short. 
'tis so indeed Sir Boun.  Enter for a Prologue Folly-wit. Prologue. Folly. 
We sing of wandering knights, what them betide,  
Who nor in one place, nor one thing abide,  
They're here now, & anon no scouts can reach 'em  
Being every man well horsed like a bold Beacham,  
The Play which we present, no fault shall mere  
But one, you'll say 'tis short, we'll say 'tis sweet:  
'tis given much to dumb shows, which some praise,  
And like the Term, delights much in delays.  
So to conclude, and give the name her due,  
The play being called the Slip, I vanish too.  Exit. Sir Boun. 
Excellently well acted and a nimble conceit.  Short. 
The Prologues pretty i'faith.  Mast. Pae. 
And went off well.  Sir Boun. 
I that's the grace of all, when they go away well, ah-  Cur. 
A my troth and I were not married, I could find in my heart to fall in love with that Player now, and send for him to a supper; I know some i'th' town that have done as much, and there took such a good conceit of their parts intoth' twopenny room, that the Actors have been found i'th' morning in a less compass than their Stage, though 'twere near so full of gentlemen.  Sir Boun. 
But, passion of me, where be these knaves, will they not come away, methinks they stay very long.  Mast. Pae. 
Oh you must bear a little sir, they have many shifts to run into.  Sir Boun. 
Shifts call you 'em, they're horrible long things.  Folly. 
A pox of such fortune the plots betrayed:  Folly-wit returns in a fury. 
All will come out, yonder they come taken upon suspicion, and brought back by a Constable, I was accursed to hold society with such Coxcombs, what's to be done? I shall be shamed for ever, my wife here and all, ah pox— by light happily thought upon, the chain Invention stick to me this once, and fail me ever hereafter: so, so,—  Sir Boun. 
Life I say, where be these Players, oh are you come, troth its time, I was e'en sending for you.  Short. 
How moodily he walks, what plays he trow?  Sir Bou. 
A, justice upon my credit, I know by the chain there.  Folly. 
Unfortunate justice.  Sir Boun. 
Ah— a— a—  Folly. 
In thy kin unfortunate.  
Here comes thy Nephew now upon suspicion,  
Brought by a Constable before thee, his wild associates with him,  
But so disguised, none knows him but myself,  
Twice have I set him free from officers fangs,  
And for his sake, his fellows: let him look too't:  
My conscience will permit but one wink more.  Sir Boun. 
Ye shall we take justice winking.  Folly. 
For this time I have be thought a means to work thy  
freedom, though hazarding myself; should the Law cease him,  
Being kin to me, 'twould blemish much my name, No;  
I'd rather lean to danger, than to shame.  Enter Constable with them. Sir Boun: 
A very explete justice.  Con. 
Thank you good neighbours, let me alone with 'em now.  Left. 
'sfoot whose yonder?  Anc. 
Dare he sit there?  
2. Folly-wit.  
3. Captain— puh—  Folly. 
How now Constable what news with thee?  Const. 
May it please your worship sir,— here are a company of auspicious fellows.  Sir Boun. 
To me; puh— turn toth' justice you whoreson hobby horse, this is some new player now, they put all their fools to the Constable's part still.  Folly. 
What's the matter Constable, what's the matter?  Const. 
I have nothing to say to your worship— they were all riding a horseback an't please your worship  Sir Boun. 
Yet again: a pox of all Asses still, they could not ride a foot unless 'twere in a bawdy house.  Con. 
The Ostler told me they were all unstable fellows sir.  Folly. 
Why sure the fellow's drunk.  Left. 
We spied that weakness in him long ago sir, your worship must bear with him, the man's much o'erseen, only in respect of his office we obeyed him, both to appear conformable to law, and clear of all offence: for I protest sir, he found us but a horse back:  Folly. 
What he did?  Lift. 
As I have a soul, that's all, and all he can lay to us.  Const. 
I'faith, you were not all riding away then.  Lift. 
'Sfoot, being a horseback sir, that must needs follow.  Folly. 
Why true sir.  Sir Boun. 
Well said justice, he helps his kinsman well.  Follie. 
Why Sirrah, do you use to bring Gentlemen before us for riding away, what will you have 'em stand still when they're up, like Smug upo'th' white horse yonder? are your wits steeped? He make you an example for all dizzy Constables, how they abuse justice, here bind him tot his chair.  Con. 
Ha, bind him hoe?  Folly. 
If you want cords, use garters.  Con. 
Help, help, Gentlemen.  Lift. 
As fast as we can sir.  Con. 
thieves, thieves.  Folly. 
A gag will help all this, keep less noise you knave.  Con. 
Oh help, rescue the Constable— oh, O.  Sir Boun. 
Ho, ho, ho, ho.  Folly. 
Why la you who lets you now?  
You may ride quietly, I'll see you to,  
Take horse myself. I have nothing else to do.  Exit. Constable. 
Oh,— oh— oh—  Sir Boun. 
Ha, ha ha, by my troth the maddest piece of justice gentlemen, that ever was committed.  Scort R. 
He be sworn for the madness on't sir.  Sir Boun. 
I am deceived, if this prove not a merry Comedy and a witty.  Mast. Pae. 
A lass poor Constable, his mouth's open, and near a wife word.  Sir Boun. 
Faith he speaks now e'en as many as he has done, he seems wisest when he gapes and says nothing, ha ha;— he turns and tells his tale to me like an ass, what have I to do with their riding away, they may ride for me, thou whoreson Coxcomb then; nay thou art well enough served i'faith,  Mast. Pae. 
But what follows all this while sir, methinks some should pass by before this time, & pity the Constable.  Sir Boun. 
Byth' mass and you say true sir,— go sirrah, step in, I think they have forgot themselves, call the knaves away they're in a wood I believe.—  Const. 
ay, ay, I.  Sir Boun. 
Hank, the Constable says I, they're in a wood,— ha, ha,—  Nub. 
He thinks long of the time sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
How now? when come they?  Seru. 
A lass an't please your worship, there's not one of them to be found sir.  Sir Boun. 
How?  Short. R. 
What says the fellow?  Seru. 
Neither horse nor man sir.  Sir Boun. 
Body of me thou liest.  Seru. 
Not a hair of either sir.  Short. R. 
How now sir Bounteous.  Sir Boun. 
Cheated and defeated, ungag that rascal, I'll hang him for's fellows, I'll make him bring 'em out.  Const. 
Did not I tell your worship this before, brought 'em before you for suspected persons, Hayd 'em at towns end upon warning given, made signs that my very jaw bone aches, your worship would not hear me, called me ass, saving your worship's presence laughed at me.  Sir Boun. 
Ha?  Short. 
I begin to taste it.  Sir Bo. 
Give me leave, give me leave, why art not thou the Constable i'th' Comedy?  Const. 
Ith' comedy? why I am the constable i'th' common wealth sir.  Sir Bo. 
I am gulled i'faith, I am gulled, when wast thou chose?  Consta. 
On thursday last sir.  Sir Bo. 
A pox go with'ht, there't goes.  M. Peni. 
I seldom heard jest match it.  Short. 
Nor I i'faith.  Sir Bo. 
Gentlemen shall I entreat a courtesy?  Short.. 
What be't sir?  Sir Bo. 
Do not laugh at me seven year hence.  M. Peni. 
we should betray and laugh at our own folly then, for of my troth none here but was deceived in't.  Sir Bo. 
Faith that's some comfort yet, ha, ha, it was featly carried, troth I commend their wits, before our faces, make us asses while we sit still, and only laugh at ourselves.  M. Peni. 
Faith they were some counterfeit rogues sir.  Sir Bo. 
Why they confess so much themselves, they said they'll play the slip, they should be men of their words, I hope the justice will have more conscience i'faith, then to carry away a chain of a hundred mark of that fashion.  Short. 
What sir?  Sir Bo. 
I by my troth sir, besides a jewel, and a jewels fellow, a good fair watch that hung about my neck sir.  Short. 
'sfoot what did you mean sir?  Sir Bo. 
methinks my Lord Owemuch's players should not scorn me so i'faith they will come and bring all again I know, push they will i'faith, but a jest certainly.  Enter Folly-wit in his own shape, and all the rest, Folly. 
Pray Grandsire give me your blessing?  Sir Bo. 
Who? Son Folliwit?  Folly. 
This shows like kneeling after the play, I praying for my Lord Owemuch and his good Countess, our honourable Lady and mistress.  Sir Bo. 
Rise richer by a blessing, thou art welcome.  Folly. 
Thanks good grandsire, I was bold to bring those gentlemen my friends.  Sir Bo. 
Theyre all welcome, salute you that side, & i'll welcome this side. Sir to begin with you.  Short. 
Master Folly-wit.  Folly. 
I am glad 'tis our fortune so happily to meet sir.  Sir Bo. 
Nay then you know me not sir.  Folly. 
Sweet Mistress Harebrain.  Sir Bo. 
You cannot be too bold sir.  Folly. 
Our marriage known?  Curte. 
Not a word yet.  Folly. 
The better.  Sir Bo. 
Faith son would you had come sooner with these gentlemen.  Folly. 
Why Grandsire?  S. Bo. 
We had a play here.  Folly. 
A play sir, no.  Sir Bo. 
Yes faith, a pox a'th' Author.  Folly. 
Bless us all, why were they such vild ones sir?  Sir Bo. 
I am sure villainous ones sir.  Folly. 
Some raw-simple fools.  Sir Bo. 
Nay byth' mass these were enough for thievish knaves.  Folly. 
What sir?  Sir Bo. 
Which way came you gentlemen, you could not choose but meet 'em.  Folly. 
We met a company with hampers after 'em.  Sir Bo. 
Oh those were they, those were they, a pox hamper 'em.  Folly. 
Bless us all again.  Sir Bo. 
They have hampered me finely sirrah.  Folly. 
how sir.  Sir Bo. 
How sir, I lent the rascals properties to furnish out their play, a chain, a jewel, and a watch, & they watched their time, and rid quite away with 'em.  Folly. 
Are they such creatures.  Sir Boun. 
Hark, hark gentlemen, by this light the watch rings alarum in his pocket, there's my watch come again, or the very cozen German too't, whose be't, whose be't? byth' mass 'tis he, hast thou one son? prithee bestow it upon thy Grandsire, I now look for mine again i'faith, nay come with a good will or not at all. I'll give thee a better thing a piece, a piece gentlemen.  Short. 
Great or small,  Sir Boun. 
At once I have drawn chain, jewel, watch & all.  Mast. Penit. 
By my faith you have a fortunate hand sir.  Short. 
Nay all to come at once.  Lift. 
A vengeance of this foolery.  Folly. 
Have I scape the Constable to be brought in by the watch?  Cou. 
O destiny, have I married a Thief mother?  Mot. 
Comfort thyself, thou art before hand with him daughter.  Sir Boun. 
Why son, why gentlemen, how long have you been my Lord Owemuch his servants i'faith?  Folly. 
Faith Grandsire, shall I be true to you?  Sir Boun. 
I think 'tis time, thoust been a these already.  Folly. 
I knowing the day of your feast, & the natural inclination you have to pleasure and pastime, presumed upon your patience for a jest as well to prolong your days as—  Sir Boun. 
Whoop, why then you took my chain along with you to prolong my days did you?  Folly. 
Not so neither sir & that you may be seriously assured of my hereafter stableness of life, I have took another course.  Sir Boun. 
What?  Folly. 
Took a wife.  Sir Boun. 
A wife? 'sfoot, what is she for a fool would marry thee a madman? when was the wedding kept in Bedlam?  Folly. 
she's both a gentlewoman and a virgin.  Sir Boun. 
Stop there, stop there, would I might see her.  Folly. 
You have your wish, she's here.  Sir Boun. 
Ah, ha, ha, ha, this makes amends for all.  Folly. 
How now?  Lift. 
Captain do you hear? is she your wife in earnest?  Follie. 
How then?  Lift. 
Nothing but pity you sir.  Sir Boun. 
Speak son be't true?  
Can you gull us, and let a quean gull you.  Follie. 
Ha.  Cour. 
What I have been is past, be that forgiven,  
And have a soul true both to thee and heaven.  Follie. 
be't come about, tricks are repaid I see.  Sir Bo. 
The best is sirrah you pledge none but me  
And since I drink the top, take her and hark,  
I spice the bottom with a thousand mark.  Follie. 
By my troth, she is as good a cup of Nectar, as any  
Bachelor needs to sip at.  
Tut give me gold, it makes amends for vice,  
Maids without coin, are candles without spice.  Sir Boun. 
Come gentlemen tooth feast, let not time waste,  
We have pleased our ear, now let us please our taste  
Who lives by cunning mark it, his fates cast,  
When he has gulled all, then is himself the last.   
FINIS.