COVENT GARDEN: A PLEASANT comedy: Acted in the year, MDCXXXII. By the queen's majesty's Servants.  
The Author THOMAS NABBES.  
LONDON, Printed by RICHARD OULTON, for CHARLES GREEN; and are to be sold at the Sign of the White Lion, in Paul's Churchyard. 1638.   

TO THE RIGHT WORTHY OF HIS honour's Sr. JOHN SUCKLING Knight.  
SIR,  
THere is no excuse for this my presumption, but a presumption upon your {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}  
It is likewise an error in my weakness, to put so mean a piece to a second trial; when in your perusal it will meet with a more piercing judgement, than the Stages, that gave it some partial allowance. For the style, 'tis humble: Serpit humi tutus nimium, timidusque procellae.  
Your own is Pindarus, mine Bacchylides. Yet I would have endeavoured to make the persons speak better, had it been proper to their condition. As you are a Patron to all good endeavours, you merit to be the subject of many Encomiums: But yourself by yourself in making the world (which can never be sufficiently grateful for it) happy in the publication of your late worthy labour, have prevented the intentions of many to dignify that in you which is so far above them. My hope is, that by your favourable acceptance of this, I may gain some opinion with others; to whom I have and always do declare myself in my desires ambitious to be known by you at the becoming distance of  
Your honourer and humble Servant THOMAS NABBES.   

The prologue.  
do not expect th' abuses of a Place;  
Nor th'ills sprung from a strumpet's painted face  
To be expressed. Our Author doth not mean  
With such vile stuff to clothe his modest scene.  
Nor doth he brand it with a satyr's mark;  
But makes a Justice wiser than his Clerk.  
His Rustics likewise will pretend to Wit:  
So all the Persons which we counterfeit.  
He justifies that 'tis no borrowed Strain,  
From the invention of another's brain.  
Nor did he steal the Fancy. 'Tis the same  
He first intended by the proper Name.  
'Twas not a toil of years: few weeks brought forth  
This rugged Issue, might have been more worth  
If he had licked it more. Nor doth he raise  
From th' imitation of authentic Plays  
Matter or words to height: nor bundle up  
Conceits at Taverns where the Wits do sup.  
His Muse is solitary, and alone  
Doth practise her low speculation.  
He hath no faction in a partial way,  
Prepared to cry it up, and boast the Play,  
Swelling your expectations: he relies  
Merely upon your ingenuities.  
The Matter's weak: how can the Building stand?  
Yes; if supported by a gracious Hand.   

The PERSONS.  

Dungworth. A Country Gentleman.  


RALPH.  
DOBSON .  His Servants.  
Mris. TONGALL. A busy Gossip.  
THEODORE ARTLOVE. A complete Gentleman.  
LITTLEWORD. A reputed Wit.  
HUGH JERKER. A wild Gallant.  
Jeffrey JERKER. A lad of the same humour.  
DOROTHY WORTHY. Daughter to Sir GENE.  
SUSAN. A Waiting-woman to the Lady.  
WARRANT. Clerke to Sir GENEROUS.  
SPRUCE. Gentleman Usher to the Lady.  
Lady WORTHY.  
Sir GENEROUS WORTHY.  
Young WORTHY. His Son.  
DASHER. A complementing Vintner.  
DRAWER.  
CONSTABLE.   
The scene COVENT-GARDEN.   


Act. 1. Scoen. 1.  Enter DUNGWORTH, RALPH, and DOBSON, as newly come to Town by the right scene. DOBSON. 
_ Now we are come to London, fellow Ralph what shall we do? or what course will our Master take with us?  Ralph. 
Why, Dobson; he may do what he will, and we will do what we list. A little instruction and practice will make us wicked enough, I dare warrant thee.  Dobs. 
I hope we are not to learn that. But all this while the Plough stands still.  Ralph. 
sha', Dobson; thy mind's upon nothing but dirt.  Dobs. 
Indeed here's store of it, ankle deep.  Dung. 
What place is this Ralph? thou know'st London.  Ralph. 
It should be COVENT-GARDEN; but 'tis much altered since I was here last.  Dungw. 
A Garden call you it! 'Tis a very barren one.  Dobs. 
I would I were at home again, amongst the Cream-bowls.  Ralph. 
I could be content to have the other smack at our Gillian the dairmaid's sugar-candy—  Dobs. 
How, fellow Ralph! you kiss my Sweetheart Gillian! pronounce it again, and by the faith of a new made Servingman, that puts his whole trust in his Livery and the Quarter-days, I will kill thee presently, and challenge thee the next Holiday before the Congregation.  Ralph. 
Kill me first, and then challenge me! for a kiss or two! nay, good Dobson; she has lips big enough to serve us both. Prithee let's not fall out and beat one another: these people would but laugh at us for't.  Dobs. 
Indeed 'tis a jolly company. Dwell they all hereabouts?  Ralph. 
I scarce think they are all of one Parish, neither do they go to one Church. They come only for an evening recreation to see COVENT-GARDEN.  Dobs. 
Blessings on their hearts for it. 'Tis a goodly place.  Ralph. 
And a godly one too if rumour lie not.  Dung. 
What are all these things with rails?  Ralph. 
I think mews for hawks, or airings for gentles. Other hawks are not here in any request.  Dung. 
Mews for hawks, thou wouldst make me a Buzzard.  Dobs. 
Dost think we shall dwell hereabouts?  Ralph. 
I hope so: we shall then be near the Cock-pit, and see a Play now and then.  Dobs. 
But tell me Ralph, are those Players the ragged fellows that were at our house last Christmas, that borrowed the red blanket off my bed to make their Major a gown; and had the great Potlid for Guy of Warwick's Buckler?  Ralph. 
No, Dobson; they are men of credit, whose actions are beheld by every one, and allowed for the most part with commendations. They make no yearly Progress with the Anatomy of a Sumpter-horse, laden with the sweepings of Long-lane in a dead Vacation, and purchased at the exchange of their own whole Wardrobes. They buy not their Ordinary for the Copy of a Prologue; nor insinuate themselves into the acquaintance of an admiring Ningle, who for his free coming in, is at the expense of a Tavern Supper, and rinses their bawling throats with Canary.  Dobs. 
But I would I had stayed still in the Country, now Sports are tolerated, in despite of Justice, Troublesome's malicious Authority. I had rather see a Morris-dance and a Maypole, than ten Plays: what care I for wit which I understand not?  Ralph. 
The duller Ass thou.  Dobs. 
How, Ass to my face! provoke me no more with such foul language, lest I enter and act thy Tragedy.  Ralph. 
Nay, prithee fellow Dobson; if we abuse ourselves sometimes, 'twill be the better taken when we abuse others.  Dung. 
Tomorrow I'll have you accoutred in liveries, and put myself into a gentile garb. I am resolved to forsake the Country profession of mine Ancestors; and mean to turn Gallant. I'll sell some few dirty Acres, and buy a Knighthood: I'll translate my Farm of Dirtall into the Manor of No-place. Would I were acquainted with an honest Scrivener.  Ralph. 
You wish an impossibility, unless the Pillory were more terrible.  Dobson. 
But do you mean to sell your Land?  Dung. 
Yes indeed; I shall be the likelier to go to heaven when I forsake earth.  Ralph. 
But 'tis a dangerous way through a scrivener's conscience.  Dung. 
What dost tell me of danger! 'Tis the coward's bugbear; a scarecrow to City gulls, that dare not wear swords for fear of being challenged.  Dobs. 
Nay, my Master is as tall a man of his inches.  Dung. 
Yes, Dobson; thou hast seen me do something. But sirrah, let it be your charge to find out a good Inn; see Crop eat his meat.  Dobs. 
I'll warrant Sir, he'll cat his meat, and 'twere Good-friday.  Ralph. 
Had he but cares then, he might make a very good Puritan horse.  Dung. 
Indeed, their best virtue is to hear well.  Ralph. 
But their doing sometimes, begets a hotter zeal in the Sisterhood.  Dungw. 
I'll have a lodging here. Prithee ask that Gentlewoman; she seems an inhabitant.   

The second scene.  Enter Mris. TONGALL, by the right scene. Ralph. 
Pray Master, know you hereabouts any convenient Lodgings?  Tong. 
Many Sir, for convenient persons.  Dungw. 
Of credit, and unsuspicious.  Tong. 
It is not in my understanding; wherefore the satisfaction I can give you will be doubtful. I know none of my neighbours better than myself. I have as handsome Lodgings as any are in Covent Garden: my fore-rooms have a fair prospect, and my back-rooms a sweet air.  Ralph. 
Which is not usual backwards.  Dung. 
May we see them?  Tong. 
If you please to let that Tavern receive you till I have made them ready, I will return and give you notice.  Dung. 
I'll sup there: shall I entreat your company?  Tong. 
I shall be ready to fulfil your desires.  Dobs. 
And we our bellies: hitherto, we have had but a hungry journey of it.  Dungwell and Dobson go forth by the left scene. Tong. 
My friend, pray what's your Master's name?  Ralph. 
What if it be not in my Commission to tell you?  Tong. 
My demands are civil and for no hurt. I must know before my house can give him entertainment.  Ralph. 
But I must not tell you, till I have a mind to it. You may be the agent to an Informer: do you not correspond with the Summer and Apparitor, to keep yourself off some deserved punishment.  Tong. 
I am a patient bearer.  Ralph. 
Not unlikely, I have heard there are many such in Covent-Garden.  Tong. 
I mean with your unmannerliness.  Ralph. 
If a downright Country thing will please you.  Tong. 
A downright! you make me blush.  Ralph. 
This interest then, and—  Tong. 
So Sir, the terms are not equal for such familiarity.  Ralph. 
Why then you must seek you a more proportioned Schoolmaster to enter you farther, and teach you my Master's name. The Wine stays, and I want it.  Tong. 
Good friend stay a little, and tell me thy Master's name.  Ralph. 
What again! Fare you well, I have forgot it.  Tong. 
Nay, prithee friend: my knowledge of it may much concern his, or (if not) thy good. My daughter jynny's a handsome girl, he that pleaseth me best shall have her.  Ralph. 
I rather think he shall have her that pleaseth her best, else I shall doubt her for a woman. But how can she concern our goods? your instance.  Tong. 
Nay, credit me upon my word, 'tis earnest.  Ralph. 
A Woman's word! 'tis not worth an ounce of feathers. Besides, you may be under covert barn. Have you not a Husband?  Tong. 
Yes indeed.  Ralph. 
What's his profession?  Tong. 
An under-Lawyer, an attorney.  Ralph. 
His word may be taken in the term for a gown-facing or so: but to do any man good, is worth a double fee, if he perform it. Mistress, if you must know my Master's name, go to Carterton in the County of Sussex, and there in the Church-Register you shall find, that Roger the son of Rowland Dungworth of Dirtall Farm in the Parish of Carterton aforesaid, was baptised— But stay, I'll know first if he be resolved to continue a Christian; 'tis ordinary to change names with religion. Besides, he means to be a Knight; and Dungworth will stink in the delicate nostrils of a Lady: it may make the heralds give him a mock-coat with three kennel-rakers. Farewell sweet Mistress, and if my Master chance to lie at your house, I should be glad if I might lie over your Daughter.  Tong. 
Farewell good friend. The Gentleman to lie at my house! very good. I must project a profit out of the accident; a new Gown, or a Beaver, or some composition with a bond of assurance, when I procure him a good Wife. Perhaps he shall have my Daughter Jynny. Who would think this little body of mine were so busy in stirring actions, Master Theodore Artlove!   

The third scene.  Enter Artlove by the right scene. Artl. 
Mistress Tongall, you are delighting yourself with these new erections.  Tong. 
Fair erections are pleasing things.  Artl. 
Indeed they are fair ones, and their uniformity adds much to their beauty.  Tong. 
How like you the Balconies? They set off a Lady's person well, when she presents herself to the view of gazing passengers. Artificial fucations are not discerned at distance.  Artl. 
Pray which is Sir Generous Worthie's house?  Tong. 
Your desires (I believe) are bent towards his fair Daughter. Let me aid you: my neighbourhood hath interested me in her acquaintance; I can make way; and truly Mr. Artlove I like you so well, that (were she worthy) you should have my daughter Jinny. But do you love Mistress Dorothy?  Artl. 
I have seen her beauty, and her nimble eyes  
Have shot a fire into me, that inflames  
My cold desires. I that have resisted  
Th' assaults of passion to a perfect conquest;  
And called it (justly too) the height of folly  
To give that wanton Power the attribute  
Of a false Deity: ay, that have outgone  
Th' example of Zenocrates, am captived;  
But by a Beauty, such as would review  
Heat in the frozen bosom of an Anchorite,  
Who hath spent his age even to decrepitness  
In such austerities as would mortify  
The strongest pampered wantonness. I covet  
A good success, but fail in't. Never yet  
Could I be blessed with opportunity  
To show her my desires, and to try  
The fortune of persuasion.  Tong. 
And would you not use me! hath so long practise in matchmaking made me politic to contrive, and my conversation with yourself and the rest of the Wits made me complemental, and do you think I cannot facilitate your entrance to Mistress Dorothy?  Artl. 
Should I be fortunate in my attempts  
To win her liking; should my person please her,  
Or that annexion to my better part  
Of education, yet the disparity  
Betwixt our states, checks me from hoping  
That the design can prosper. The lighter fire  
ne'er mixeth with the earth, but to confusion: Or from their several natures bringing forth Events prodigious.  Tong. 
Why, you are an Heir to a thousand pound a year. An officious lie may be dispensed with.  Artl. 
But simple honesty  
Clad in the naked livery of truth  
Is a most glorious virtue, that preserves  
White innocence unstained with falsehood.  
Good means as well as good intention  
Must make an act good.  Tong. 
If you have such a tender conscience, so religiously scrupulous, you'll never be a Politician.  Artl. 
Let those that study mischief  
To satisfy their sensualities  
Practise such wickedness. I'd not abuse  
A noble goodness to possess the Indies.  Tong. 
But here's one will, and I must aid him in't. Mr. Littleword.   

The fourth scene.  Enter Littleword, Jerker and JEFFERY, by the right scene. Ierk. 
Friend Artlove, the good fortune of a petticoat light upon thee, in the name of Venery what mak'st thou here? art 'in quest of a smock-bedfellow.  Artl. 
Thy old humour still friend.  Ierker. 
Prithee salute this little gentleman my Cousin: he hath more age and wit then his small proportion doth promise.  Artl. 
I shall be ready to serve him.  Ieffr. 
Your acquaintance will add much to my happiness.  Ierk. 
He hath gotten leave of his Uncle to live here in my tuition. He thrives well in his conceit, a right jerker; he begins to love a wench already.  Art. 
Thy instruction and example will soon enable him that way.  Ieffr. 
Is not that a wench Cousin?  Ierk. 
Try Cos. and satisfy yourself.  Ieffr. 
My Littleword, if your salute be ended, pray resign. Nay, Mistress, I can kiss you without the help of a joined stool: please you to walk, and let my hand support you.  Tong. 
Whither pray you little sir?  Ieffr. 
To the next vaulting school.  Tong. 
Alas, you cannot get up without a stirrup.  Ieff. 
Yes, and ride too without falling; please you to try my activeness.  Art. 
Prithee recall thy wonted goodness home,  
And with a virtuous scorn shake off this habit  
Of loose desires; it hath infection in it.  Ierk. 
Nothing comes from thee but documents. I swear I should love thee much better if thou hadst less virtue. I prithee leave thy Stoicism, and become an Epicure with me. My little Cos. here shall prove with undeniable arguments that drinking and wenching are the only virtues in a gentleman of the last edition: to be excellent at them is a masterpiece of education. Besides, they are the only acumens of wit.  Artl. 
Yes, to disease it.  Ierk. 
Take heed thy judgement be not brought in question. Why diseased wits are—  Ieffr. 
Better play at small game then sit out. A young gamester may throw in and in.  Tong. 
Very seldom with three dice. Can your littleness cog?  Ieffr. 
Fair play is a gamester's glory. I love to shake the box well, and than let them run their length.  Artl. 
Yes, I confess it; where there is an union  
Of loving hearts, the joy exceeds expression.  
That love is virtuous whose desires do never  
End in their satisfaction, but increase  
Towards the object. When a beauteous frame  
Garnished with all the lustre of perfection  
Invite's the eye, and tells the searching thoughts  
It holds a richer mind, with which my soul  
Would rather mix her faculties.  Ieffr. 
Judge not of a man by his outward dimensions: My shape is not so defective to make you doubt performance: let's find out a convenient place and try.  Tong. 
Alas little one, you'll lose yourself: you'll never hit the way home.  Ierker. 
'Tis a bliss above the feigned Elysium  
To clasp a dainty waste; to kiss a lip  
Melts into Nectar; to behold an eye  
Shoot amorous fires, that would warm cold Statues  
Into a life and motion; play with hair  
Brighter than that was stellified.  
And when the wanton appetite is cloyed  
With thousand satisfactions of this kind,  
Then follow's th' absoluteness  
Of all delight. But were desire restrained  
From variation, soon 'twould satiate,  
And glut itself to loathing.  Ieffr. 
Please you to drink a pint or two of wine? there may be provocation in it.  Tong. 
Preserve your courtesy child, and your money: Lent's at hand, and then every street will afford boys recreation.  Ieff. 
Why how now impudence! do you flout a man?  Ierk. 
How, a man Cousin!  Ieffr. 
I want not so much of my full age to be called a boy.  Artl. 
But you must not fall out with the Gentlewoman.  Ieffr. 
I desire rather to have fallen in with her.  Ierk. 
I would not have you so forward Cousin. You must be sure to deal with sound ware.  Ieffr. 
What care I? 'tis but the loss of a man's hair; an excremental ornament: wit consists not in't. A man may cover his baldness with a periwig, and the fashion takes away the suspicion. I hope I came to London to learn wit and the fashion.  Tong. 
Come Mr. Littleword.  Artl. 
Adieu Mistress Tongall.  Exeunt Tongall and Littleword, by the right scene. Ieffr. 
I took her rather for a Wagtail.  Art. 
What silent Gentleman's that?  Ierk. 
His Character in his own language is ay and no; yet he speaks well in paper. He is a wit, but somewhat a dull one.  Artl. 
What serious affair have they together?  Ierk. 
There are hidden policies in the world. Thou hast a bookish humour; I a wenching one; and why may not his dulness dream of some rich match! Mris. tongall's the only matchmaker in the Town.  Artl. 
Those words create a hell of torment in me.  
Is there no love  
But what's attended by vain jealousy!  Ierk. 
Art thou in love?  Artl. 
Yes, passionately.  
My dreamings, wakings, thoughts and actions  
Are nothing but desire.  Ierk. 
I can as soon credit an impossibility. Thou in love! why 'tis more improbable than the projection of draining Marshland with a windmill. But prithee what is she?   

The fifth scene.  Enter DOROTHY SUSAN in the Balcone. Artl. 
See where my comforts Sun  
Breaks through a cloud. Oh that this unkind distance  
Might be contracted into lesser air:  
I'd then convey my whispers to her ears;  
And teach her understanding what delight  
Society hath in it.  Ierk. 
Sure thou hast not boldness enough to speak to her. Thou wouldst blush, and fall into some pathetical book discourse, or tell her the story of Hero and Leander, to make her tenderness whine. 'tis not the way. Get access to her; and after one mannerly salute, double and treble thy kisses; tumble her a little, and if opportunity serve, offer the rest: Magic hath not a philtre like it.  Ieffr. 
Is not that a house (Cousin) where the Wenches are?  Ierk. 
Yes, questionless.  Ieffr. 
I mean in the sense of—  Dorot. 
Yonder Gentlemen observe us: let's be gone.  Susan. 
Not yet (Mistress Dorothy.) Now I have drunk a cup of Sack, I must be in love with one of them, him that seems most worthy of a gentleman.  Dorot. 
You have fallen my glove.  Sus. 
I'll fetch it.  Exeunt from the Balcone. Artl. 
Blessed accident;  
Why do you stop my haste? let me embrace it.  
Thus with religious worship do I kiss  
What your white hand hath hallowed. Ha! she's gone.  
What envious mischief intercepts the means  
Of my desired happiness! or have mine eyes  
Wasted their beams in gazing on the place  
Where I first saw her, to imagination  
Fancying her figure.  Ieffr. 
Sure Cousin the gentleman is in love; he talks very madly.  Artl. 
Where are the powers of my intellect?  
Reason and understanding have forsaken  
Their proper seats, and left strong passions  
To triumph o'er this captived Microcosm.  Ierk. 
Now I see thou art mad: but prithee strive to conceal it; the place is public.   

The sixth scene.  Enter SUSAN by the middle scene. Susan. 
Pray you Sir, did you take up a Gentleman's glove?  Artl. 
It was my happiness, and 'twould be much increased, if I might kiss the hand that wore it.  Susan. 
As I am a Gentleman I shall be most careful to give your deservings their due commendations.  Artl. 
May I be bold to enter with you?  Susan. 
You are a stranger Sir, and it may give occasion of jealousy. But I am my Lady's Gentleman: I keep the key of her secrets, and if you please, her closet shall conceal you; where you may dispose of Suckets and Eringoes for your refreshment. I pray Sir, call not a gentleman's freeness immodesty.  Artl. 
My behaviour shall deserve your good opinion.  Susan. 
Truly Sir, a man could not stand better in the conceit of a gentleman at first sight, than you do in mine. I hope your goodness will not misconstrue my readiness to humble my desires to your disposing.  Art. 
You teach me language which myself should use:  
But if my gratitude doth seem to want  
Verbal expression, I had rather act  
Than promise what I owe you.  leffr. 
This is pretty foolery, Cousin.  Susan. 
Sir, you appear so replete with goodness, that I presume you cannot but answer the desires of a gentleman, who prostrates her love at the feet of your acceptance.  Artl. 
Doth she love me? what greater secret  
Hath Nature in her Works then sympathy!  
I do conceive a thousand fond expressions,  
Which throng so fast, they choke the passage up,  
That none can find an issue.  Ierk. 
Out of fool's Paradise: thou art in it. But pray you Gentleman protract not his satisfaction with these circumstantial delays. Whilst Mris. Dorothy and he are busy, you and I will taste the sweetmeats in your ladies' Closet.  Susan. 
I understand you not.  Ieffr. 
He means you should lie under him.  Susan. 
Fie little one, that you should so offend the chaste ears of a Gentleman. But to you Sir, the Loadstone of my heart, that turns itself at your motions pointing still to the North of your Love.  Ieffr. 
Indeed Mistress 'tis a cold corner, pray turn it to the South, and let my needle run in your Dial.  Susan. 
And since the ardour of my desires have urged my blushes to discover them; let not your appearing worth suffer such a disparagement to contemn a Gentleman's willingness.  Art. 
How's this! why friend, did she not seem to come instructed (by direction) with an embassy As to prepare my love?  Ierk. 
No, no, she loves thee herself. Take her. methinks she's very beautiful; what pinken-eyes; what a sharp chin! Why her features transcend Mopsa's in the Arcadia.  Ieffr. 
Hath she not studied it Cousin, think you? and is transported to a humour of loving every man she sees.  
I have known it in the Country in an age-decayed waiting-woman.  Artl. 
I cannot answer her; my heart is big With other thoughts; which till I am delivered of, I suffer torments.  Susan. 
Unfortunate Gentleman as I am, to be thus rejected.  Ieffr. 
Will you resign your interest? I'll court her folly.  Artl. 
Take it,  
But not t'abuse the other's innocence.  
Whilst I with sighs draw in th' unwilling air  
Which she perfumed at distance.  Ieffr. 
Pray Gentleman could you love me a little? I'm very sportive.  Susan. 
Truly young Gentleman, I do not know what I may do when you come to your full growth.  Iaffr. 
Blirt my Lady's Gentleman, who taught you to scoff at a man's person?  Susan. 
Cry ye mercy little Sir; you may be the father of dwarfs. The sack begins to leave working and by this time my Lady expects her gentleman. Farewell, unkind Sir.  Goes forth by the middle Scene. Ierk. 
Farewell loving Gentleman. She hath prevented me. Sure friend she came but to mock thee. 'Twas little less than downright impudence.  Ieffr. 
Let's to the Tavern Sir, and drown this passion in a cup of Canary.  Ierk. 
Come, come; I was ordained to do thee good. Thou know'st I had a Mistress, whose friends disliking my wildness, married her to the Father of the Gentlewoman whom thou lov'st (horns be his punishment for it.) She loves me still; and I do not despair of making him Cuckold. we'll arm ourselves with a quart or two, and then I'll bring thee to her.  Artl. 
Aid me love, wit and fate; that my desires  
Burn not themselves without her equal fires.  Ierk. 
More passions yet! It thou the mark wouldst hit,  
Let Sack inspire thee: 'tis the Soul of Wit.  Ieffr. 
Sack that makes Prophets; gives a Poet birth:  
And then a wench; Elysium upon Earth.  Go forth by the left scene.   


Act. 2. Scoen. 1.  Enter SUSAN and WARRANT, by the middle scene. SUSAN. 
NOw I protest Mr. Warrant, you wrong the love of a Gentleman, in not imparting the cause of your discontent. Come not fees in roundly? Do not the Delinquents understand, I'll speak a good word for you?  Warr. 
You are the only object of my thoughts. 'Tis your beauty hath animated my presumptuous weakness to express how much my desires are yours.  Susan. 
Alas Mr. Warrant how can a poor Gentleman deserve it?  War. 
Yes, you have power of my Lady, and she much acquaintance at Court. A pardon might be got.  Susan. 
A pardon! bless me, for what?  Warr. 
Not for murder; but for killing (yet not a Man) fairly in the field.  Susan. 
Are you earnest?  Warr. 
'Tis not yet done; only I am resolved to do it, were I but sure of my pardon.  Sus. 
If not a man, what then is it?  Warr. 
A mere superfluous compliment of state formality. One of my Lady's raising. A fellow that hath cross capered himself out of a tailor into a gentleman Usher.  Susan. 
Who Mr. Spruce? but have you challenged him?  Warr. 
Yes, with all due form and circumstance. The weapon single Rapier; the place the Piazze; the time this moonshine night presently before supper.  Susan. 
And your quarrel my love. Well Mr. Warrant; I know a Gentleman hath interest in a Lord at Court, who hath long been inward with her. I'll warrant your pardon. But my Lady expects me.  Exit. Warr. 
Dearest part of myself: to get my pardon, here's Spruce, now will I affront him.   

The second scene.  Enter SPRUCE by the middle scene. Spruce 
your being my Lady's Gentleman Usher, her preambulator or her anteman must not protect you in the competition of Mrs. Secretary's love.  Spruce. 
Warrant, thou art a scribbled shred of baseness to twit me with my lady's favours, and mine own deservings. Mr. S. Secretary is my Lady's gentlewoman, and I will love her by privilege.  Warr. 
By privilege Spruce! Thou art a Baboon of formality, and an ape of court- ship. When I have killed thee, and get my pardon, I will have thy skin stuted; and with a protection show them at country Fairs and Markets for a Guinea Pigmy.  Spruce. 
Warrant, thou art the Epitome of my Master's authority, and the abridgement of his justiceship.  Warr. 
Spruce, thou art a very louse, bred in thy cross-legged profession; that having sucked a little blood of Gentility, instead of thy usual bread breakfast, art grown to a fancy familiarity, with thy maintainers. Thou buyest thy laundry in Long-lane or Hounsditch with the impudence of a cheater.  Spruce. 
Warrant, thou liest.  Warr. 
How I lie. That somebody were here to stand betwixt us. Come not near me, lest I blast thee with the breath of my just indignation.  Spruce. 
Keep at distance Warrant, lest I tame thee, and send thee from Constable to Constable in a Wheelbarrow.  Warr. 
For this Spruce I will not compassionate the good parts which my Lady commends in thee. Thy Fiddlestick shall not save thee; nor thy capering lift thee an inch from the ground which I have laid for thy destruction.  Spruce. 
Warrant, thou art the very parings of a Pedantic to flout the completeness of education. Because thy dulness is capable of no more than to frame heteroclites from men's names, and scribble a warrant or a mittimus by a precedent; yet thou art a Justice's Clerk.  Warr. 
And thou a Lady's Gentleman Usher, a bundle of complemental follies stitched up with howdies. I will send thee anon upon a visit to the Devil.   

The third scene.  Enter SUSAN, by the middle scene. Susan, 
Fie Mr. Spruce and Mr. Warrant, how loud you are! my Lady hears your noise, and is offended.  Spruce. 
Yes, my Rapier and mine arm shall maintain it upon his life, I love you best.  Susan. 
Indeed Mr. Spruce and I love you.  Warr. 
I'll maintain it against the life of all the world, I love you best.  Susan. 
Truly Mr. Warrant and I love you.  Spruce. 
He that offers to love her besides myself, dies.  Susan. 
Mr. Spruce and Mr. Warrant, send but for one bottle of Sack, and be friends; I'll love you both.  Warr. 
I'll brook no Rival.  Spruce. 
Nor I; death must determine it.  Warr. 
Remember then, I must to the Cutlers.  WARRANT goes forth by the middle scene. Susan. 
Though I am but a waiting-woman, I have more wit than to believe this is earnest. As if I did not know them to be as arrant Cowards, as a Justice's Clerk or Gentleman Usher can be; and deserve rather to be whipped by a Satire, then rewarded for their valours with the love of a gentleman. But Mr. Spruce do you mean to fight?  Spruce. 
Yes, and kill him too. I fear nothing but death and the Gallows; from which you may save me.  Susan. 
As how? the means.  Spruce. 
Beg me, I say beg me. Let not my good parts be made unuseful by an untimely turn at Tyburn. methinks I see the pitiful spectators condoling me. The fishwives drowning their dead soles with salt water from their eyes; the Oyster-wives weeping for me in most lamentable pickle. An hundred Chambermaids running stark mad, and as many more falling into the green sickness with longing for me. Beg me therefore (I say) resolve to beg me, and make great haste. It is my fear above death, that otherwise some rich City Heir will prevent you. Resolve therefore to be the first that shall beg me.  Susan. 
As I am a Gentleman Mr. Spruce, if you kill him fairly in a duel; and upon no base advantage I'll do it.  Spruce. 
Confirm it then with a kiss, and inspire an Herculean valour into me.  Susan. 
By no means at this time. I'll kiss you at the gallows. My Lady.   

The fourth scene.  Enter LADY and DOROTHY by the middle scene. Lady. 
You see how my obedient youth  
Hath joined itself with an unequal mate;  
You aged father, only to satisfy  
The Provident will of Parents. Do you so.  
Fortune hath made me now your Mother.  
Had nature don't, my care could not be greater,  
Nor more my providence to dispose your good.  Doroth. 
Mother, the duty which I owe my Father  
You (being his) must share: and this expression  
Of more than common love, I must repay  
With more than common gratitude.  Lady. 
Ther. tell me,  
Now time hath given your age perfection;  
Your roses are full blown, and fit for gathering,  
Do you not long for a husband?  Doro. 
Not with much earnestness: I have as yet  
No passionate desires; as yet no breath  
Poisoned with Hyperbolical flatteries  
Hath courted my poor beauty; no deep vows  
Have paid idolatrous sacrifice of service  
To my fair hand, whose whiteness if but kissed  
Can purify a soul. Believe me yet  
The man's a stranger to my knowing memory  
That ever said he loved me.  Lady. 
But take heed:  
There are a sort of fond effeminate men,  
Deep studied in discursive compliment,  
That many times will waste more airy language  
To take a solemn leave, then would make up  
A City Orator.  
Beware that no such oil-tongued amourist  
Sigh forth his passions in thy credulous ears,  
And captivate thy weakness. 'Tis their practice  
To glory in diversity of mistresses:  
And when one frowns or chides their overdaring  
With a repulse, will not stick to revenge it  
With a foul defamation of her honour.  Susan. 
Neither can a Gentleman be in love now and then out she is censured.  La 
Let not thine ears drink in their Rhetoric charms,  
Lest they bewitch thy glorious understanding  
To dote on their pretences, which perhaps  
Shall be chaste love for its creation's end:  
When but their covetous hopes prefer a portion  
Before your beauty, birth or education;  
And yet perhaps there is disparity  
'Twixt lower fortunes, and their weak desert.  
Deceit's a cunning bawd, and many times  
Makes virtue prostitute itself to misery.  Doroth. 
There is a power  
Called Fate, which doth necessitate the will,  
And makes desire obedient to its rule.  
All the resisting faculties of reason,  
Prevention, fear and jealousy are weak  
To disannul what in its firm decrees  
Is once determined. Yet my heart is free;  
Unbounded by the stricter limits of  
Particular affection: so I'll keep it.  
No proud ingrateful man shall ever triumph  
o'er the captived sweets of my Virgin love.  
Nor a vainglorious gull that offers service  
To every noted beauty, boast my favour.  
I'll clothe my thoughts in humorous observation;  
And if on any that solicits love  
I fix a liking, I'll refer myself  
To what is destined for me.  Lady. 
The resolution's noble; I commend it.   

The fifth scene.  Enter Littleword and Mris. TONGALL, by the middle scene. Lady. 
Welcome Mistress Tongall; welcome. You are the only company in the neighbourhood. A Lady can ill be without you.  Tong. 
This Gentleman madam, whom I presume to commend to your ladyship's acquaintance, is of worthy birth and education: the Littlewords are not modern; besides their Ancestors were great Philosophers.  Susan. 
And the latter great fools.  Tong. 
Go, and talk to her. I'll tell your Ladyship a strange thing of the Littlewords. In seven generations there was but one girl, and she died an infant. Contrariwise of the Tongalls there's but one man left, that's my Husband, and he's a Lawyer: now your Ladyship knows he gets nothing but wenches. Speak to her Mr. Littleword.  La. 
Is the Gentleman of so good education?  Tong. 
Extraordinary madam; he's a wit. I would my Jynny were worthy of him, he should seek no further. I pray Mr. Littleword speak to her.  Lady. 
Can he poetize Mris. Tongall?  Tong. 
Excellently madam; he hath things in print. His next dedication shall be to your Ladyship. Why do you not go and talk to her?  Lady. 
What estate hath he?  Tong. 
Five hundred a year present possession, more in reversion. This Gentleman, Mris. Dorothy, is my friend, and desire's to be your servant. I have made way now, why do you not speak to her? I am bold to commend him to your liking.  Doro. 
Pray you Mris. Tongall, what wages takes he?  Tong. 
You mistake Mris. Dorothy; 'tis your love he would serve you for.  Doro. 
That's a cold reward; a Livery would keep him warmer.  Ton. 
Fie, that you will not speak to her. And how doth your Ladyship like an old man?  Lady. 
A cold bed fellow. But Religion and Conscience. Now 'tis done I must love him. Would he were not jealous.  Tong. 
None are so confident (madam) as cuckolds. But your ladyship's known virtue will soon put out the eyes of his suspicion. Speak to her Mr. Littleword.  Susan. 
I would not now for all the Sack in Spain my loving humour were upon me. This dumb Gentleman would make me forswear the quality.  Dorot. 
Sure Mris. Tongall your friend would make an excellent midwife; he can keep secrets.  Tong. 
'Tis his modesty Mris. Dorothy. Bless me that you would not speak to her.   

The sixth scene.  Enter Jerker, ARTLOVE and JEFFREY, by the middle scene. Ierk. 
madam, I am bold to commend this Gentleman, who will deserve your acquaintance.  Artl. 
As far as my power will extend to expression.  La. 
You are welcome Mr. jerker and this Gentleman, and shall be whilst your visits are seasonable. But you know I have a jealous husband.  Ierk. 
There are medicines to cure it madam.  Ieffr. 
May not I salute the Lady Cousin?  Ierk. 
'Tis but courtesy and manners.  Ieffr. 
I am bold with your ladyship's lip.  La. 
'Tis marvel you blush not. So bold and so young! By that time you come to your full growth pretty Gentleman, you'll make up the number of the ten Worthies.  Ieffr. 
madam, I am neither Infidel, Jew nor good Christian; though I am little, I dare be your Ladyship's Champion in an active skirmish.  Tong. 
This 'tis to be backward: you'll never thrive in any thing unless you are more forward. Lose such an opportunity with not speaking to her!  Lady. 
Secretary.  Susan. 
madam.  Lady. 
Go, and direct the Cook.  SUSAN goes forth by the middle scene. Artl. 
How on a sudden my resolves are numbed,  
And frozen into silence, that confirms  
The first distrust of my known undeservings,  
I dare not speak.  Doroth. 
Shall I have another dumb servant! Are you not well Sir?  Artl. 
Well Lady! yes. Health itself  
Is a disease in others, if compared  
With th' absolute state of mine. Where you are present  
Sickness can have no power over frailty.  
The beames which your bright eyes shoot, purify  
The most infectious air. Your words distil  
A Balm more precious than that Miracle  
The Chemics dream of.  
At distance I have often seen your beauty;  
And thence received a fire, whose quickening flames  
Did animate my soul, that else was earthy,  
A lump of passive dulness; now 'tis active:  
And if you please to cherish it, shall pay  
All its derivative abilities  
Unto your lowest service.  Doro. 
You too much flatter my unworthiness:  
And in that likewise derogate  
From your own fullness of admired merit.  
Th' unskilful'st Physiognomist may read  
In your bright forehead, and your form's exactness,  
A man replete with all perfections.  
Whose very superfluities might be  
Additions to the barren worths of others.  Ierk. 
And can there be greater disparity?  
Would it not seem a Prodigy in nature,  
To have green Summer with her rose-crowned head  
Kiss the white icicles from Winter's beard?  
Extinguish her bright fires in his cold bosom?  
madam, I know your sportive Youth desires  
A more proportioned mixture. Come, let's try.  
Fire put to fire increaseth active Flames;  
Contraries dull each other with confusion:  
Such are the frozen kisses of your Husband,  
Unto your warm delights—  Art. 
Lady, if any worth appear in me  
It must derive its fullness from your liking:  
Had I infused into me all the excellence  
Of those Heroics whom the Poets feigned;  
Were I made up with all Perfections  
That Fiction ever painted, to express  
Desert in freshest colours;  
Unless you called it worth, 'twere but a subject  
For base contempt, though popular admiration  
gave't divine Attributes. Since you commend  
The faculties your whiteness must dispose of—  Ieffr. 
Ask your husband leave! by this hand I would not ask an Alderman leave to Cuckold him. So he might take example from a City kind one, whose Wife longed to kiss a Lord: upon which he grew so proud for being exalted above the rest of his neighbours, that he would suffer none to Cuckold him ever after but Lords.  Dorot. 
By no means Sir.  
Wrong not your judgement, which must needs be absolute.  
The choice of me  
Is too inferior to your richer value.  
The Cyprian Queen had she but seen your face,  
Would ne'er have died the roses with her blood,  
Wept on their paleness for Adonis' loss:  
But circled in a ring of all her graces  
Court your celestial form upon the bosom  
Of some more fragrant Tempe.  Artl. 
She mocks me sure.  Dor. 
Did sirens hear your voice they would give o'er  
Their own malicious charms: and through the witchcraft  
Of its more powerful music, rage with madness:  
Leaving their proper element to die  
In the pursuit of sweeter melody.  Artl. 
This gross flattery, Lady,  
Commends your wit, rather than your good nature.  
My heart is a plain heart, and my desires  
Are truly virtuous, not to be contemned.  Lady. 
Fie, Mr. jerker! besides the words incivility, I did not expect such absurdity in a reputed wit. Could you not have couched it better; shall I have leave to do your Ladyship a piece of night service; or so. Come, come, forbear these wicked solicits, or I shall disclaim the promise of my favours reversion when my old Husband dies, if nature be not merciless, and I go first.   

The seventh scene.  Enter Sir GENEROUS WORTHY, and young WORTHY, by the middle scene. Sir Gen. 
Ha! what's here! Courtship on all hands?  Lady. 
My Husband.  Dorot. 
My Father, and my Brother.  Y. Worth. 
I like not this.  Sir Gen. 
Mr. jerker, you are welcome, I hope; having failed in his old, he hath not a new suit; that as I made her a Lady, she should bestow an honorable Crest upon me.  Ierk. 
Let his jealousy construe it into truth.  Lady. 
He shall never be but a Unicorn.  Ierk. 
madam, however I appear in my wildness, I shall continue to your Ladyship in my first desires. So with this tribute of my devotion.  Artl. 
I would first kiss your hand.  Dorot. 
My lip being too unworthy.  Tong. 
I take my leave madam.  Lady. 
Farewell Mistress Tongall.  Sir Gen. 
Son, school your Sister. Come with me Wife.  Ex. Y. Wor. 
Sister, I can but wonder much, that you  
Should make yourself the object of their Courtship,  
Who bear perhaps but th' empty names of Gentlemen,  
Without the real fullness.  Doroth. 
What mean you (Brother) by this introduction?  Y. Wor. 
Sister, to take the privilege of discretion,  
And school your ignorant courtesy, that upon  
The shadows and appearances of Men  
Confer your favours.  Dorot. 
Brother, you may pretend your love  
In this distrust; but 'tis an ill expression.  
Think not my judgement subject to such weakness,  
That I can build a faith on Compliments,  
Or (with rash passion) run into an error.  
Nothing but known desert shall tie my thoughts  
To a staid liking, if I may distinguish it.  
And when my choice is fixed, it shall be such  
As your fraternal love must not dispute.  Y. Wor. 
Sister, my counsel's mild.  
Nor would I have you violent in defence  
Of a suspected folly. Guilt is aptest  
To make excuse. But if your resolution  
Be bent thus wilfully to persist in actions  
Of feared dishonour, be assured my Spirit  
Shall rage with such an anger, plays ne'er painted.  Dorot. 
Dishonour Brother, I have a spirit too,  
That scorns as much an Act of foul dishonour,  
As you, or any Masculine pretender  
To noble Virtues. Guilt is aptest still  
To be suspicious. If a maid be free  
In her discourse, and courteous entertainment,  
She straight is censured. But let a man appear  
Stuck full of apish Courtship; light, inconstant,  
As talkative as parrots, that are taught  
A voices imitation; one that courts  
Every tamed beauty with a seeming zeal;  
As if his soul's devotion were restrained  
Only to her Divinity; this man's called  
A well-bred complemental Gentleman.  
Men's greatest follies, if compared with ours,  
Are virtues, fit for our imitation.  Y. Wor. 
Sister, your satire smarts not:  
The lashes reach not me.  Dorot. 
They are but suppositions Brother.  
And pray suppose the Gentleman that seemed  
To court my beauty, were indeed a man,  
Not guilded imperfections; one whose words  
Were full of weighty judgement, not mere sound;  
Whose real virtues did beget an envy,  
Perhaps an emulation in all others;  
And from the freedom of his richer mind  
He gave himself and them to be my servants;  
What gratitude in me might equal this?  Y. Wor. 
I know you are free.  
And rather than a complemental servant  
Should be discouraged in his serious wantonness,  
You'll give it countenance to make him bold  
In's amorous pursuit; perhaps to th' impudence  
Of a lascivious charge upon your modesty;  
Because you scorn ingratitude.  Dorot. 
Brother, did not the ties  
Of love and nature check my forward aptness,  
I'd tell you y'are not noble, and suspect  
Whether your mind hold that derivative goodness  
Which generous blood communicates, to suspect  
Her resolute constancy whom you call Sister.  
Think not your being a man prerogative  
To be the only Counsellor in manner's  
Brother, though to your person I am partial.  
Through confidence of your appearing virtue;  
The general vices noted in your sex,  
Such as with public ostentation  
You glory to be guilty of, which in  
Our very thoughts raise blushes—  Y. Wor. 
Sister no more.  
Leaving these circumstantial arguments,  
Pray let a Father's care and Brother's love  
Commend him first whom you intend for Husband:  
You'll find us tyrants else. Nature is kind;  
But if provoked, she hath a tiger's mind.  
I'll find him out and satisfy myself  
How far he is deserving.  Goes forth by the middle Scene. Dorot. 
How is our weakness trodden and insulted on  
By these imperious men! Aid me resolves  
Against their threats and counsels, unless grounded  
On stronger reasons than suspicion.  
As the pure Oar refined exceeds in value  
Treble proportions of the courser dross;  
So true desert in Man an outward gloss.  Goes forth by the middle scene.   


Act. 3. Scoen. 1.  Enter DOROTHY and SUSAN, in the BALCONE. Susan. 
Come Mrs. Dorothy; here's a Moon would make a great bellied uman long for green chief. methinks 'tis pleasant taking the air by Moonshine.  Dorot. 
But 'tis not so healthful The night infects the air with unwholesome vapours.  Susan. 
A fig for these Physical observations. I have known a doctor's prescriptions cast down a Gentleman for three quarters of a year. But if ever I lie under any of them for the green sickness.  Dorot. 
Fie upon thee.  Susan. 
Why I do not mean naughtiness. But what do you think made me so earnest to have you hither?  Doroth. 
Some wanton humour. You have drunk a cup of Sack, and want a handsome Gentleman to be in love with.  Susan. 
No such matter. I'll not drink a drop more till towards supper. I brought you to see a Duel.  Doroth. 
Bless me; betwixt whom?  Susan. 
My Lady's Gentleman, and Mr. Warrant.  Doroth. 
They are unequally weaponed. Mr. Spruce, though he be a Tailor wears a— the foolish rhyme runs in my head. I had almost said a dagger, but 'tis a sword; and my Father's Clerk hath only his inkhorn.  Susan. 
And that's a terrible one. But I saw the Cutler bring him a sword; I saw it naked, which was enough to fright many a gentleman. I saw him try it on a bar of iron in the kitchen; and many more fearful preparations.  Dorot. 
But will not you prevent them?  Susan. 
By no means, unless there were more danger. 'Twill be mirth for this twelvemonth, if our eyes (through this imperfect Moonlight) can but reach the sight of them. What confident daring will be betwixt them at some great distance?  Dorot. 
And what's their quarrel?  Susan. 
The love of a Gentleman, I assure you.  Dorot. 
yourself perhaps.  Susan. 
No otherwise indeed. My beauty is the object of their valour. The Combatants will enter presently. The Knight of the Inkhorn, and the Knight of the Spanish Needle.  Doro. 
Both affecting the Lady of the Closet. But Mris. Secretary, what if my Lady Mother's Chambermaid and Joan in the Kitchen were here?  Susan. 
For you to make them Ladies, as you have done me. Indeed they might serve by Moonlight; the day perhaps would discover a greasy Gentry.  Dorot. 
Fie; now you forget yourself.  Susan. 
'Tis ordinary for a waiting-gentlewoman but newly made a Lady to forget herself. But see, I am prevented from proceeding. Let us observe.   

The second scene.  Enter WARRANT, and a little after him SPRUCE, by the middle scene. Warr. 
'Tis a good sword; it cost me two pieces. No matter. Many a man's death hath cost more at the Physicians. Who would be afraid to kill a man; when he is sure of his pardon?  Dorot. 
He is now in some deep meditation of your beauty.  Susan. 
See Mistress, there's the other.  Spruce. 
That sure is Warrant. I'll go this way. It shall never be said I went after a man to kill him, though I am confident Mistress Secretary will beg me.  Dorot. 
They go contrary ways. we shall not see the fight. They mean to meet and end it at the Antipodes.  Warr. 
But what should I think of killing him? I know he dare as well take the wall of a drunken Constable, or justle a Buffcoat leading a wench, as meet me.  Susan. 
methinks I perceive them stand.  Spruce. 
Yes, yes; 'tis Warrant: I smell him hitherto.  Warr. 
Is not that Spruce? certainly 'tis he. methinks I see him tremble hitherto. He dare not come near me; and I scorn to go to him to kill him: It may hinder my pardon. Therefore he shall assault me first.  Dorot. 
Why, they are fixed. Hath not fear congealed them into stones?  Susan. 
Dissolved them rather into jelly.  Warr. 
That some good fellow would but come and beat the cowardly Rascal.  Spruce. 
That some Shark would come now and take away his hat or cloak.  Susan. 
Now could I fancy in my imagination what they say. Mr. Warrant. O that I had this Coward Spruce here: I would dismember him; and then what Gentleman would care a rush for him? Now Mr. Spruce hath studied the Arcadia. He says. Oh that I had this Warrant here It would cut him into atoms; that wheresoever the Sun shines, the trophies of my renowned victory might be visible.  Aarr. 
That he would but come a little nearer.  Spruce. 
That he were but within twice my sword's length.  Warr. 
I would I had but a leg or an arm of him, since he will not come, that I may kill him.  Spr. 
That I had but his head here; how I would shave it.   

The third scene.  Enter RALPH and DOBSON by the left scene. Ralph. 
This is the virtue of Sack boy. Who would toil in dirt for whey and buttermilk, or the windy juice of Pome-waters upon Sundays? Now could I be as valiant as— nothing.  Dobs. 
I could fight with an Army of Polecats, so they were not Women.  Ralph. 
I could take the wall of three times three Tailors, though in the morning, and at a baker's stall.  Dobs. 
That were a way to have thy skin bodkin full of eyelet holes.  Ralph. 
If I should throw down three or four posts.  Dobs. 
What then?  Ralph. 
What then! why, I would not stay to take them up.  Susan. 
Who are these? observe.  Ralph. 
Give me an armour of Sack; I am shot-free.  Dobs. 
Whilst my Master pays the reckoning.  Susan. 
Mistress Dorothy, I have fastened on a design for rare sport. My friends.  Dorot. 
Will you talk to strangers in the street?  Ralph. 
What say you pretty pair of Wagtails? do you want Play-mates?  Susan. 
Will you do a courtesy for a Gentleman?  Ralph. 
Within doors, or without?  Susan. 
You seem to be valiant.  Dobs. 
They that try us shall find our mettle.  Susan. 
Perceive you not two men yonder in several places?  Ralph. 
we see something, but they may as well be flocks.  Susan. 
For any manhood that's in them. If you will but beat them a little, besides a Gentleman's thanks, some other reward shall attend it.  Ralph. 
How are we sure they are Cowards?  Susan. 
You may trust the word of a Gentleman.  Dobs. 
Come, come, thou standest doubting like a cowardly fool, These may be Gentlewomen of good fashion, and apt to take fire at valour. Who knows what preferment's near us? We have persons.  Ral. 
Why then forwards: call upon sack, Dobson, sack.  Warr. 
Who are these come towards me? my courage begins to have an ague.  Spruce. 
Who may these be? my wish (I hope) some good fellows to rob him.  Dobs. 
What was our Commission Ralph? to beat them, and not kill them.  Ralph. 
To kill them and not hurt them? Call upon Sack, Dobson: I begin to be afraid. I can perceive his sword; he shakes it fearfully.  Dobs. 
Draw thine then; and sack, sack the walls of Troy.  Warr. 
The rogue Spruce hath sent them to beat me. 'Tis so. I must shift for myself.  Ralph. 
Sirrah, thou man of fear and trembling. Call upon Sack, Dobson.  Warr. 
Alas, what mean you Gentlemen?  Ralph. 
Not so gentle neither. we are fiery furious, and command thee in the name of Sack, resign thy weapon, and submit to be corrected by our valour.  Warr. 
Kind Gentlemen, I hope you'll not kill me. I'll do any thing, rather than be killed.  Ralph. 
A handsome beating shall assuage our fury.  Warr. 
Sweet Gentlemen, I'll do any thing rather than be beaten.  Spruce. 
'Tis so; they are robbing him, and I scorn to aid him. Teach the rogue to be such a coward: he might have come to me.  Dobs. 
Are you prepared Sir?  Warr. 
Merciful Gentlemen; I have some money, a Cloak and a good Beaver: I'll give you all, and forgive you too, so you'll not beat me.  Dobs. 
This was beyond our expectation.  Ralph. 
Our mercy may be brought to a composition. But should we be pitiful, could you be content, since you cannot fight in your own defence, to lie in our defence.  Warr. 
I'll say or swear any thing, rather than be killed or beaten.  Ralph. 
That we did beat you?  Warr. 
That you left me dead. I'll lie at a surgeon's these two months; and pretend that my skull was broken in twelve places: that half my brains were putrified and taken out. I'll be mad all my life after to confirm people in the belief of it.  Ralph. 
Depart then, and praise us.  Warr. 
Yes, at the gallows. I'll have you hanged for robbing me: I shall teach you to attempt any thing on a Justice's Clerk.  Goes forth by the right scene. Susan. 
Nay: pray you stay a little longer.  Dorot. 
I am weary; we'll imagine the rest done. I'll send my Brother forth to make them friends.  Exeunt from the Balcone. Spruce. 
'Tis done sure. Now will I home, proclaim him a coward, and triumph. Ha do they waylay me! the rogue hath hired them to beat or rob me. An ague of fear is upon me. Now could I wish myself transformed into a beast, and have four legs. These two which have been my most useful members will surely fail.  Ralph. 
Sirrah, you Rascal.  Spruce. 
You mistake Sir, I am a Gentleman Usher.  Ralph. 
Then thou abuser of wit and good clothes, be mannerly, and uncover to thy betters.  Spruce. 
I hope Gentlemen you do not mean to rob me? Trust me, I have no money, but a few farthings of my Ladies to give poor people.  Ralph. 
We will be satisfied with a small diminution of your plentiful Wardrobe. we know you have more Cloaks and Beavers at home.  Spruce. 
No I protest Gentlemen. I have but this only case for my Carcase: and 'twill not be quite paid for till the next quarter.  Dobs. 
Why then Sir, we will beat you handsomely, and that shall allay our fury.  Spruce. 
Nay kind Gentlemen, I had rather stand to my Lady's bounty, then be beaten.  Ralph. 
Why then thank our mercy and depart, whilst we like honest thieves share our booty.  Spruce. 
And I find out the Constable.  Goes forth by the right scene.  

The fourth scene.  Enter ARTLOVE by the left scene. Artl. 
How glorious shows heaven with trembling lights  
Sparkling their distant beams! The full orbed Moon  
Borne on nights dewy wings, rides in her Sphere;  
And throws the shine which from her brother's rays.  
She borrows to illuminate the earth  
Through thinner air, where no condensed vapours  
Are interposed to let her piercing eye  
From seeing that which she gives sight to. Yet  
My heart is wrapped in clouds of leaden sadness.  
Love is not that in me which others feign it.  
I dream not of delights; my busy fancy  
Presents no fabulous heaven. A hell of torment  
darkens my mind's bright faculties; and reason suffers itself to be eclipsed by passion.  Dobs 
Now wi'ye are entered Ralph. what if we made this our profession? many a one lives by it.  Ralph. 
And many a one is hanged for it.  Artl. 
Oft have these instruments of heaven's influence  
Seen my contemplative watchings;  
When with profound and an unwearied search  
I have scanned the causes of their great effects;  
And waded through the most inscrutable secrets  
Both of the mediate and immediate nature.  
But coming once to read a Woman's face,  
There were so many heavens, that every thought  
In me, required a several understanding,  
To give each several grace a several name,  
And definition.  Dobs. 
Thou art afraid of the gallows?  Ralph. 
Not much of the gallows without a hangman.  Artl. 
The Chaos and the earth were love's first Parents;  
And yet the child did give the parent's form.  
What Riddles are in nature!  
Man's a disordered Mass, a mere confusion  
Of rude, inanimate sense and understanding.  
Until inspired with love's diviner soul.  
The sense is tired, unless it varies objects.  
Knowledge would be finite, were not the mind  
Delighted with diversity.  
But love's a subject for eternal study;  
And one fair book preserved so, a full library.  Dobson. 
I am resolved; I'll nor spare man, woman nor child, whilst the sack works.  Ralph. 
For women and children let me alone: if I fall upon the one, I'll soon get the other.  Artl. 
What fabulous errors learning is attended with!  
Plato's five Worlds; their sempiternity;  
Pythagoras' transmigration; and opinions  
Judgement would blush to father. But a woman,  
Did men contemplate such a one as I do,  
They'd Make her all those Worlds: and then include  
All the famed excellence of former beauties  
In her more perfect frame.   

The fifth scene.  Enter young WORTHY by the middle scene. Y. Wor. 
Is't possible such show of resolution  
Should appear in Cowards! I'll make them friends.  
And that being done mine own intentions  
Must be pursued to find that Gentleman  
Courted my Sister. Love of all sorts bends  
itself to courses for its several ends.  Dobs. 
Now for a daring Constable.  Ralph. 
Without his staff of authority, or a fortification of Sack. A Constable may be valiant when he commands others what he cannot do himself.  Y. Wor. 
What! my pair of valiant Cowards! friends already.  Dobs. 
How! Cowards! swallow that word, or it shall choke thee.  Y. W. 
These fellows have outgone their Commission and robbed them. I was a wise man to come abroad without a sword.  Ralph. 
He hath never a sword. Sirrah, thou man of presumption, that hast profaned our incomparable valour, redeem thy forfeited life of our mercy with some gold or silver pictures out of thy silken pockets.  Y. Wor. 
They'll rob me too: Why, Gentlemen; silk clothes have not money in them at all times.  Ralph. 
He looks terribly Dobson. Call upon Sack.  Dobs. 
I will cleave him at one stroke.  Y. W. 
Do you mean to murder a Gentleman?  Artl. 
Murder a Gentleman the voice came thence.  
I'll rescue him, though danger and destruction  
Met me with open mouths. villains, desist.  Y. W. 
You have done a benefit I must acknowledge.  Artl. 
That's to reward it sir; from which base ends  
Good actions should be free. I'd gladly hear  
A short relation of the Accident.  Dobs. 
Why dost thou quake so Ralph?  Ralh. 
Why dost thou tremble so Dobson? I dare be whipped if these be not some kin to the Gentle woman that sent us hither from the thing at yonder house.  Y. W. 
Were you sent to rob or kill me?  Dobs. 
Alas Gentlemen, we are very ingrams.  Ralph. 
Mere Country Animals. we have valour to steal a Maypole, or rob the parson's Hens-nest: but to kill a man as far from our intents or daring, as pity from an Executioner, or bashfulness from a Jingo.  Y. W 
Forbear the rest. This affords me matter: Return to that house, there leave your booty and receive your reward; only this I'll keep.  Ralph. 
With all our hearts: we had rather anybody should have them, than the hangman both them and us for them. Come Dobson, we have got the money yet; and a little sack will animate us again. My soul's under foot; I must raise it: But if ever I quarrel again by Moonshine unless I am drunk, valour forsake me.  Go forth by the left scene. Y. W. 
Blessed Accident! 'tis surely the same.  
After a stricter view, my memory  
Unless it errs, tells me I have seen your person  
Before this at my fathers.  Artl. 
If you are the son of Sir Generous Worthy.  Y. H. 
It was the blessing  
Nature and Fortune did bestow on me.  Art. 
It is indeed a blessing, when the virtues  
Of noble Races are hereditary;  
And do derive themselves from th' imitation  
Of virtuous Ancestors. You have a fair Sister.  Y. Wor. 
Her beauty is not worth your commendations.  Artl. 
Your modesty is too severe  
In your restraint from praising her pure excellence,  
Which should be poet's study; not with fiction,  
And common figures, but diviner attributes:  
Then they must call it nothing but itself.  Y. W. 
Have I found you? I shall search you deeper.  Artl. 
The subject's weight would make a Poem weighty;  
And take away the imputation  
Which seeming solidness would throw upon't  
Of a light fancy.  Y. W. 
It seems you love my Sister?  Artl. 
He were a Devil did not love such goodness.  
It is the only virtue: frailty boasts of,  
To love fair sensual objects: but my soul  
Hath noted inward beauty in her mind,  
Which makes me glory (though it be presumption)  
That I do love her.  Y. W. 
call't not presumption sir, you do deserve her,  
In that you have endeared me for my life  
Who am her Brother. And I commend you wit,  
Which I presume my sister's love hath whetted.  
'Twas a quaint Plot. Were th' Actors here again,  
I'd pay their wages.  Artl. 
Your Riddle needs some Oedipus to solve it.  Y. W. 
Why sir, ridiculous fables  
May sometimes serve for imitation.  
Though 'twere a mere appointment in this rescue,  
To show your love and valour.  Artl. 
What base suspicion  
Poisons his jealous thoughts! 'Tis injury  
Beyond all patience.  Y. W. 
Alas sir, you are moved?  Art. 
Yes, to an indignation, whose just heat  
Burns me almost to rage. But there are charms  
And spells about you conjure down my spirit.  
You are her Brother.  Young. Wor. 
It seems your guilt dare not deny the truth?  Artl. 
Dare not deny it!  
Were thy hands armed with Thunder;  
Hadst thou a Gorgon's look, were't not her Brother,  
Ringed in the terror of a thousand Gibbets  
And executioners, I have a point  
Should find thy heart out.  Y. W. 
But I must tell you sir,  
Seldom high spirits that pursue their honours,  
With earnest flights, will stoop at weak respects:  
But prey upon th' opinion of those men  
That scan their actions; tearing their reputations  
Out of suspicions bowels. he's not a Gentle man  
Will not preserve his honour.  Artl. 
Your speech, Sir,  
Savours of strange severity. My honour  
Is that part of myself, without which  
The man that's in me can have no subsisting.  
Honour's the greatest of exterior goods,  
And must be still pursued as the reward  
Due unto virtue, through the greatest dangers.  
Yet fortitude is not the appetite  
Of formidable things, nor inconsult  
Rashness; but virtue fighting for a truth;  
Derived from knowledge of distinguishing  
Good or bad causes. Think me not a Coward  
Because I am not rash: nor through defect  
Of better counsel, do not resist the force  
Of will or passion; howsoe'er your jealousy  
Proceeding from our better thoughts infection  
Hath been a provocation. And perhaps  
The love I bear your Sister, will appear  
Your chiefest safety.  Y. Wor. 
In an attempt of right  
I have more safety here then your presences  
Can arm me with But if you love my Sister,  
It must be honourable and not wanton:  
She will find Champions else.  Artl. 
I must be honourable!  
Those words include a doubt works strangely in me.  
Love must not wrack my reputation.  
Sir, I begin to scan the circumstance,  
And construe your intention. You would try me:  
But your temptations have been too abusive.  
And now my resolution is prepared  
To do my credit justice.  Y. W. 
You will not fight with me that am her Brother?  Artl. 
There's Magic in those words.  Y. W. 
I do presume my Sister will reward you  
For these expressions. She is free to pay  
Her servants promised wages; be it kisses,  
Or any other dalliance.  Artl. 
What a profane breath from his black mouth flies,  
Would poison all the idolatrous religions  
That e'er awed wicked mortals.  
He is not sure her brother, but some impostor,  
That only counterfeits his worthier person,  
I could be patient at the lie, or Coward,  
Or any thing that can make passion violent.  
But her bright honour stain's a cause of justice  
To arm a Nation. Draw, if thouart a man;  
And with the plea of valour, (if thoust any)  
Defend thy errors: Draw thy sword.  Y. W. 
Not against him that loves my Sister.  Artl. 
Is my just anger mocked! love made ridiculous!  
Draw; lest I make myself an Executioner.  
And do an act of justice on thy guilt.  Y. W. 
Never against your bosom, where a spirit  
So truly noble dwells, that hath converted  
All my feigned jealousies to useful love.  Artl. 
I am confounded to amazement.  Y. W. 
Pray reconcile all your distractions.  
Let not the least distrust abuse your confidence  
Of what I undertake. My Sister's yours,  
If the advice of me that am her Brother,  
And interested in her good or ill,  
Can be prevailing.  Artl 
Then requesting Sir,  
That you'll presume no more upon the privilege  
Of that pure love I bear your virtuous Sister  
T' admit a jealousy of any action,  
Or thought of mine which tends not unto nobleness,  
Next unto her my bosom holds you dear,  
And shall do ever.  Y. W. 
So mine the like. Thus noble causes  
Put fire into the spirits of full men.  
Though sometimes seeming valour may arise  
Through lust or wine, from hateful cowardice.  Go forth by the left scene.   


Act. 4. Scoen. 1.  Enter Jerker and JEFFREY, with a Drawer, by the left scene. BOY. 
ANon, anon Sir, by and by.  Ier. 
Some more wine Boy. Is Mr. Art love returned?  Boy. 
Not yet Sir.  jeffrey. 
Poor Gentleman; he's complaining to the Moon, or studying the event of his love in the Stars. methinks I could make a counterfeit expression of his passions to the life.  
〈…〉 ministress  
Of watery light; dance no unequal motions  
On thy four orbs; but quench thy paler fires  
In Lovers tears, that all in constancy  
May so be drowned. I would I were in love Cousin.  Ierk. 
Before you are capable of it.  Ieffr. 
Why Cousin, is it not defined to be youth's folly!  
Indeed, all things in Youth are folly.  Jerk 
Not so Coz. all folly may be in Youth:  
But many times 'tis mixed with grave discretion,  
That tempers it to use; and makes it judgement  
Equal if not exceeding that which palsies  
Hath almost shaken into a disease.  
But why would you be in love Coz.  Ieffr. 
That I might Poetize: you know 'tis the only dancing Master to teach the Art of Measures; though I have known Poets scarce able to stand on their feet.  Ierk. 
Then you would write satyr's Coz?  Ieffr. 
'Tis your dancing conceit. But the grincome's Cousin cleaves not the feet.  Enter DASHER. Ierk. 
Mr. Dasher, this freeness hath doubled the favour; visit us of your own accord!  Dash. 
Gentlemen myself, and all that depends on myself, or on any thing that hath dependence on myself, is at your service.  Ieffr. 
I should desire your wife then.  Dash. 
Sweet young Gentleman, you are the Epitome of a fair body, and shall command the Commander of myself and family. I will but present a glass of Greek Sack to the hands of a noble Lord, and return to serve you.  Exit. Ierk. 
You have a virtue Sir, I could wish communicated.  Ieffr. 
What's that Cousin?  Ierk. 
To cozen Cousin.  Ieffr. 
And would you learn it?  Ierk. 
The Theory, but not the practice. I converse much in Taverns; and the use should only be a thrifty prevention.  Ieffr. 
As my observation hath taught me something in a bawdy house, where they cannot change money.  Enter DASHER. Dash. 
Now Gentlemen dispose of your servant.  Ierk. 
Indeed Mr. Dasher our Wine's nought.  Dash. 
How I nought I who drew it? name but your drawer; he is punished whilst you pronounce it. I'll not keep an offensive mouse that eats the crumbs under my table, but shall pay his life to do you service.  Exit. Ieffr. 
Why Cousin, the Wine's good.  Ierk. 
I only gave him matter for a compliment.  Ieffr. 
'Tis pity to abuse him that is so apt to abuse himself. But what do you muse on Cousin?  Ierk. 
I am studying a conceited health.  Ieffr. 
Why to the long standing of Banbury Maypole.  Ierk. 
No Puritan will pledge that.  Ieffr. 
Yes, the Goodwives: they'll find dancing a more wholesome exercise for the body, than some of their Doctrines for the Soul.   

The second scene.  Enter ART LOVE and young WORTHY, by the left scene. Ierk. 
Art come friend, and Mr. Worthy?  Y. W. 
Our mutual loves.  Enter DASHER. Dash. 
I am bound to serve you Gentlemen, and I wish my roof were worthier, and my disordered household ordered to your content.  Artl. 
We are bound to thank your readiness.  Dash. 
Gentlemen, your servant will send his servants to wait upon you presently.  Exit. Ierk. 
What accident brought you two together?  Artl. 
The mercy of my Starts: but what event  
Their influence will direct, I cannot prophesy.  
prithee be careful, he's a Cynic noter  
Of men and of their manners  Ierk. 
If he bite.  
Here's that shall blunt his fangs.  Artl. 
Good friend be mild;  
Temper thy passions here. Scandal may grow  
From low foundations to an height of infamy.  
Thou know'st my temperance doth not oft frequent  
These public places.  Y. Wor. 
Sir, the relation twixt a son and father  
May make you jealous of my partial nature.  
Trust me, I never yet was so indulgent  
To mine own weakness, that until my judgement  
Had made a full distinguishment of causes,  
I could be violent in his defence  
Farther than physical duty; which sometimes  
Hath stretched itself to counsel and advice  
Against suspicion. For though your wild behaviour  
In some particular actions might provoke him,  
She whom new duty makes me now call mother  
Hath given large testimony of her virtue  
Even to satisfaction of all goodness;  
Although his age (in other things judicious)  
Cannot so easily admit belief,  
And safer confidence.  Ierk. 
Though I appear  
In outward carriage apt to make distrust  
Condemn me vicious; yet my Soul retains  
(Besides a generous disposition  
Derived from noble blood) some scrupulous sparks  
Of better conscience. Call it not self-flattery  
In that I am mine own defences instrument.  
Report sufficiently may inform your knowledge,  
(Nor is it error) that my interest  
In her you now call Mother  
Was beyond all dispute: our equal loves  
Moved in one circle; and our thoughts were fixed;  
Nor can I vary; she's the object still  
Of my desires. I confess I use  
Wanton solicits; and should scarce resist  
My wishes' satisfaction she consenting.  
But those delights would end in such a loathing,  
That I should never more have merciful thought  
There can be any goodness left in Woman.  Y. W. 
This jars upon my heartstrings.  Ierk. 
Dost distaste you Sir,  
That I defend myself?  Y. W. 
You must not wrong my Father.  Ierk. 
I do abhor the thought of injury.  
Nor shall my spirit fall in the just plea  
Of mine own right.  Y. W. 
But not to wrong my Father.  Ieffr. 
If he be abusive, Cousin challenge him. I'll be your second.  Ierk. 
he's not a Crane Coz.  Ieffr. 
Nor I a Pigmy; you mock my love.  Ierk. 
Your forwardness is dangerous.  Ieffr. 
Why, he can never have wit, that is not valiant.  
I'll try him myself, if not to disturb you Sir.  Y. W. 
I thank you little one.  Ieffr. 
How little one I Is not that an affront Cousin?  Ierk. 
'Tis as you take it Coz.  Artl 
Fill some Wine boy: never a Drawer here?  Enter DASHER. Dash. 
What Gentlemen, none to attend you? (whooh) An unlooked for happiness that my unworthy self is preferred.  Y. W. 
An inferior servant may serve, Mr. Dasher.  Dash. 
I am the servant of my servant that shall serve you. And unless he serve you he is not my servant. I'll turn them all away presently for this neglect of your worthy Persons.  Exit. Ieffr. 
Men wear swords Sir.  Y. W. 
And boys too sometimes.  Ieffr. 
You'll answer it?  Y. W. 
Answer what Child?  Ieffr. 
Little one! Boy! Child! I shall be degraded next to an infant.  Ierker. 
Fie Cousin, contain. The Gentleman cannot brook it.  Y. W. 
Yes Sir, he can brook any thing but wronging of his Father.  Artl. 
I pray no more, the subject is too harsh  
To make good music in society.  Ierk. 
Then here's a health to her that best deserves  
The attribute of Fair: whose white and red  
Prove what's life's mixture. From whose forms exactness  
Rules of Proportion might be better drawn  
Then from Arts Principles. To her whose Youth  
Warms Winter's icy bosom with her Spring;  
Yet will not wrong your Father. As it goes round,  
Each give his Mistress some commending Character.  Artl. 
Why then a health to her whose beauties are  
Not a gross Earth, with painted superficies;  
But a more sprightly Element of pure fire.  
Within whose Sphere a glorious mind doth move  
All th' orbs of virtue with celestial flame.  
Whose active climbings carry her desires  
To th' utmost height of nobleness and honour:  
To her that calls you Brother.  Y. W. 
Let not your love appear so full of flattery.  Ierk. 
Nay, Coz; 'tis you.  Ieffr. 
Then here's a health to her will freely put  
Her sweets to use. Kiss, and be kissed again  
Without a fie. Whose boldness will not blush  
At an assault, or any wanton touch.  
And if a man persist to farther doing,  
Accounts it loss of time, a tedious wooing.  
To her that I call Mistress.  Y. W. 
Bravely come off Sir.  Ieffr. 
I can come on Sir.  Artl. 
Now Sir, 'tis yours.  Y. W. 
This Sack shall then have my Encomium.  
Which had the youthful Father ever tasted  
He would have left his rites to Poetize;  
And changed his Ivy Chaplets into bays:  
unchained his spotted lynxes, and supplied  
His Chariots loftier course with Pegasus.  
And with bewitching numbers charmed the gods  
To be his Bacchanals, that they might feast  
With this most heavenly Nectar.  Enter DASHER. Ierk. 
Mr. Dasher, your Wine is highly commended.  Dash. 
I can assure you Gentlemen, the Grape from whence this Sack was pressed—  Y. W. 
Grew in Spain.  Dash. 
I would have fetched it farther Gentlemen to do you service. A voyage to the Indies should be no more than a descending into my cellar, and up again.  Art. 
You have handsomely contracted your journey.  Ierk. 
But Mr. Dasher, you have an eminent House, extraordinary Wine and entertainment; but no Sign at first to distinguish it.  Ieffr. 
methinks Cousin, the Loggerheads was a pretty conceit.  Ierk. 
Had there not been a third.  Dash. 
Gentlemen; I intended a pair of Scales with a glass of Wine in one Balance, and a piece of gold in the other, or a jewel.  Y. Wor. 
An excellent conceit, to show the value of good Wine.  Dash. 
Sweet Gentlemen, I am the servant of your noble wits. I must kiss the fair hand of an honourable Lord, who is now departing: I will then return to be disposed by you.  Exit.  

The third scene.  Enter Sir GENEROUS, young WORTHY by the left scene. Y. Wor. 
Sir 'tis my father.  Sir Gen. 
Ha! my son here, and Mr jerker!  
I came i'th' person of authority,  
Invited by your noise. But that put off,  
Out of my love borne to the general good,  
I do advise you to be temperate:  
That the fair hopes conceived of growing virtues  
Might not be lost. 'Tis pity that your wits,  
Which (joined with some experience) might deserve  
To fill the seats of Magistracy, and be  
A speaking law) should spend themselves in places  
And acts of sin and shame; wherein severity  
Of law and government must not be partial.  
Therefore I pray no more of these disorders.  Y. Wor. 
Pray Sir, take nothing ill. 'Tis the necessity  
Of his place: his disposition else is milder.  Ierk. 
Sir, we are Gentlemen; and by that privilege  
Though we submit to politic Government  
In public things may be our own lawmakers  
In moral life. If we offend the law  
The law may punish us; which only strives  
To take away excess, not the necessity  
Or use of what's indifferent, and is made  
Or good or bad by 'ts use. We do not drink  
To a distemper, and from thence derive  
Th' original of mischiefs: nor is pleasure  
Our law but temperance. Creation made  
Every thing good, if we abuse it not.  
Then good Sir, (though you find enormities  
Amongst the rabble) be not so suspicious  
Of our more careful carriage, that are gentlemen.  Sir Gen. 
You have said to satisfaction  
And more than I expected. Hark you son.  Art. 
I did not think thou'dst been so good an Orator.  Ierk. 
Why friend? because wanton familiarity  
Make's us less serious when we are alone,  
Must it necessitate we cannot speak  
In a high cause! Cousin, you must be careful  
Of your behaviour: you are before a justice.  Ieffr. 
Why Cousin, have justices power over a man's will?  Ierk. 
Some busy ones have arrogated much;  
But being told their own have ever since  
Given Gentlemen a due respect.  Ieffr. 
I'll make a trial here. Please you a little  
To put off this severer gravity;  
And drink a glass of Sack. Your age is Privilege  
In what the law of moderation,  
Denies our hotter blood.  Sir Gen. 
Pretty sweet Gentleman. Is't possible  
That one so young, should have so grey a wit;  
'Tis wanting many times in graver beards.  
Please you Mr. jerker, to bring these Gentlemen to my house to supper. You'll find some empty dishes.  Ierk. 
We know your table's plentifully furnished.  Sir Gen. 
This was very good Sack, neighbour. Pray send me home a dozen Bottles. And keep good orders.  Dash. 
The best orders that can be kept in my houses or any office of my house shall be at your worship's service.  Ieffr. 
Fogh; that compliment stinks.  Sir Gen. 
You are very courteous, neighbour. Will you go along with me Gentlemen!  Artl. 
We are your servants. 'Tis a blessed opportunity.  Sir Gen. 
You shall now make trial of my professed love.  Ierk. 
The reckoning M. Dasher  Artl. 
we'll take the bar in our way.  Go forth by the left scene. Dasher. 
You'll do me honour to pay it there. Ten thousand welcomes wait upon you Gentlemen (who) Come sirrah, be the Mercury of neatness, and nimbly set this disordered room in order. Then give the gentleman below notice, that it is now ready to do him service: he's like to be a bountiful guest. He talks of selling his Land, and being a Wit: but how can that agree together I yes, very well. A country Gentleman to sell his land, is as it were to change his copy: leave his known trade to project a better profit. Which changing of Copy here with us, ends many times in the city freehold at Ludgate.   

The fourth scene.  Enter DUNG WORTH, RALPH and DOBSON, by the left scene. Dash. 
Worthy Sir, I have now made ready a room to entertain your worthy person. My house was so crammed with Lords; and this especially with most choice gentlemen, some of the admired wits, to which very name I owe respect and service.  Ralph. 
'Tis a fine Chamber, it shines like a goldsmith's shop in Cheapside.  Dung. 
'Twould much endear me to your kindness to bring me acquainted with some of those Wits: you say they keep their rendezvous here many times. If I may mould myself capable I should gladly add to their number. Indeed, I have had but Country breeding.  Dobs. 
City bringing up forsooth.  Ralph. 
Yes; for we rid like mad men.  Dash. 
Questionless, Sir, there are of the wits some mercenary ones, whom your money may command to be your servants. But these are of a nobler strain. Howsoever, I will upon the next occasion show my desire to do you service.  Dobs. 
Prithee Ralph, what be those Wits? A family?  Ralph. 
No Dobson, they be of all tribes. Some are jews, and some are Gentiles. Some are noble both in blood and condition, and some in neither. Some study Arts of use; some of delight; some conceive well, but talk wickedly.  Dobs. 
Those be the Women Ralph.  Ral. 
No interruptions. Some break jests; some break pates; some break Tailors; and some break their fasts with Duke Humphrey.  Dobs. 
A wise housekeeper belike.  Ralph. 
Some wear Plush that others pay for. Some love Sack, and some love wenches. Few will die of the Alderman's Gout, and some will never be cured of their own—  Dobs. 
I understand thee Ralph. But how com'st thou to know all this?  Ralph. 
Tut man; I lived in London before now; was servant to one that conversed much with the wits, and kept an Academy of Music. I tell thee Dobson, I have picked up more learning among the crumbs of a broken biscuit, after one of their meetings at a Tavern, then would make twenty Ballad-makers commence Poetasters; and with the overplus indoctrinate ten justices Clerks, and an under-sheriff.   

The fifth scene.  Enter Mris. TONGALL, and Littleword by the left scene. Dungw. 
Sweet Mistress, you are welcome to my expectation.  Tong. 
If my presumption to bring a worthy acquaintance along with me, seems not unmannerly.  Dungw. 
You rather express kindness to a stranger that desires worthy company.  Tong. 
Sweet Mr. Dasher, you are the best Woman Vintner that ever loved a gossip's tale. You have so many good things to pleasure a woman with. You were wont to have an excellent neat tongue.  Dash. 
Sweet Mris. Tongall, my best tongue, and all is at your service.  Tong. 
Kind Master Dasher.  Dung. 
To your welcome Mistress.  Tong. 
My humbleness receives your favour thankfully. My service to you Mr. Dasher.  Dash. 
I kiss the hand of your servant.  Ralph. 
And make a leg. This Vintner sure hath had very mannerly breeding. he came not from the Banks side, where the surly Watermen live.  Dash. 
Noble sir, I presume to present my desires to do you service.  Dobs. 
This Gentleman hath less manners. He answers nothing.  Tong. 
My friend (Sir) though he be of few words, is a fine wit, and a great observer.  Dung. 
A Wit, Mistress; I shall be the prouder of his acquaintance. But when I am a Wit, I shall prefer my talking before my observation.  Tong. 
I thank you Mr Littleword.  Ralph. 
Mr. Littleword and Mrs. Tongall! very good. Sure this woman had a Frenchman to her Father.  Tong. 
Indeed Mr. Dasher, 'tis excellent Sack. If you were unmarried you should have my daughter Jinny, for keeping such good inn in your house.  Dash. 
I retribute all due thanks for your kindness, that you would do me so great an honour.  Ralph. 
Mistress, you said I should have your daughter.  Tong. 
My friend, why so thou shalt. This Sack makes my heart merry.  Ralph. 
Who then shall my Master have?  Tong. 
Why my Daughter linny.  Ralph. 
A right woman: so her tongue go, no matter what she says.  Dash. 
What will that Gentleman with his table-book!  Dung. 
Let's have a health to somebody.  Tong. 
Please you Sir, to my daughter jinny.  Dung. 
Let it go round then.  Tongall. 
And he that will not pledge it, shall not have her.  Dobs. 
I hope we shall drink now Ralph.  Ralph. 
Else we lose both our share of the Sack, and our hopes of her daughter jinny.  Ent. Drawer. Dung. 
Some more Wine.  Dash. 
(Whooh) be nimble sirrah; and bring of my kingdom (that's my word for good wine) that it may wait on these Gentlemen.  Tong. 
William, thou art an honest fellow; and if thou bringst us good wine, thou shalt have my daughter jinny from them all.  Dash. 
Sure this Gentleman writes what I speak. I hope 'twas not treason to say my Kingdom. I would I knew what he were.  Dung. 
The Vintner seems troubled at this Gentleman's table-book.  Tong. 
'Tis his practice of observation. He is taking a humour for a Play: perhaps my talking of my daughter jinny.  Dung. 
I'll hatch some mirth from it. Sir, you must not take it ill, if I tell you of your errors. You have spoken something rashly.  Dash. 
Kind and worthy Sir, my life is your servant for this noble care.  Dung. 
That silent Gentleman is an intelligencer; a state spy. he'll inform against you. Therefore comply with him to prevent it. 'Tis his policy to say nothing himself, that his observation may be the more, and his own danger the less.  Dash. 
Sir, I owe your goodness all that ever I have been, am, or shall be. He writes again.  Tong. 
Now Mr. Littleword, you have some fine matter there to work upon.  Dash. 
To undo me. Sir, I desire you will command all that is to be commanded in my house to do you service. Yes, yes; he writes again.  Dung. 
That word command is a word of great danger, I would you had not used it.  Dash. 
Alas Sir, Mrs. Tongall, 'twas not neighbourly done of you to bring an informer into my house.  Tong. 
How, I bring an Informer! as I am a Matron, he's a Gentleman, a wit, and a rare Projector.  Dash. 
I believe it, to undo a poor Vintner, that cannot compliment a Gentleman into a ten pounds' expense; but his neck must be in danger. Sir, if I were a King I would be your servant. He writes again.  Enter a BO. Dung. 
Bless me Sir, you have spoken treason.  Dash. 
Alas, Sir, I, am undone then.  Boy. 
Master, the Constable and other officers are coming up.  Dash. 
Yes, yes; to apprehend me.  Ralph. 
'Tis for us, Dobson.  Dung. 
The Constable! I hope we are not suspected persons.  Tong. 
If I thought you were, you should never have my daughter jinny.   

The sixth scene.  Enter CONSTABLE and OFFICERS; by the left scene. Const. 
By your leave Gentlemen.  Ralph. 
You are welcome Sir, and I pray be gone.  Const. 
But not without you Sir. You are suspected, and must answer—  Dung. 
Answer what? here are neither Traitors nor Felons.  Dash. 
I fear I shall be proved both.  Tong. 
No Sir, nor night-walkers that are taken up, and cast down I have declared myself of as good carriage as any in the neighbourhood; and my daughter jinny waits upon an honourable Lady.  Dash. 
Mr. Constable, I am your servant, I hope you suspect no Traitors in my house. If you do, they shall wait upon you into the Cellar; and there commit what treason you will against as good Sack as is in the King of Spain's Dominions. The Gentleman writes still. I am utterly lost.  Const. 
There are two suspected to be here, that have broken the peace, and committed a robbery.  Dobs. 
Deny it Ralph.  Ralph. 
I tell you Constable, there are none here, but can break the peace, as well as you that are a Constable.  Dung. 
They shall obey your authority, and in the Vintner's phrase wait upon you.  Dash. 
I fear I must wait upon the Gallows.  Dungw. 
Being my servants, I'll go likewise along with you.  Dash. 
Yes, yes; a mere plot to go along, that he may witness against me.  Dobs. 
Fear nothing Ralph, the Gentlewomen will not see us hanged.  Ralph. 
But they may suffer us, and that's a word for hanging.  Dung. 
You seem apprehensive of your own danger. There's a reckoning to pay; if you but forgive it, I'll free you from this Gentleman's information.  Dash. 
Most gladly Sir, and be your servant. But how shall I be sure of it?  Dung. 
You shall hear it from his own mouth. You will not (Sir) inform any thing against this man! I pray say no.  Little. 
No.  Dash. 
I am satisfied: and will be your servant in any thing but treason.  Tong. 
But be sure you speak to Mistress Dorothy. Nay I'll along with you too, and perhaps speak a good word.  
I have acquaintance with the justice, and his Clerk knows my daughter jinny.  Dash. 
Let me be your servant Mr. Constable, and light you down. I hope my house will receive no scandal by this.  Dung. 
'Twas a beginning yet, and more may hit.  
Thus in th' abused sense cheating is called wit.  Go forth by the left scene.   


Act. 5. Scoen. 1.  Enter SUSAN, by the middle scene. SUSAN. 
THanks honest Nicholas. 'Tis time to cover: my Lady will to supper so soon as my Master comes home. He brings strangers with him. This Butler is the kindest fellow to a Gentleman; and deserves my love more for this bottle of Sack, then Warrant or Spruce for fighting. Come thou inspirer of a diviner soul, that teachest mysteries, of which without thee none are capable: to be valiant; to love; to poetize: suffer a thirsty gentleman to delight her dry palate with thy sweet moisture, and refresh her spirits with thy comfortable operation. (Drinks) Excellent Sack, as I am a Gentleman. Now am I in love with my old Master for buying it; with the Vintner for selling it; with the Drawer for drawing it; nay, with the very Porter that brought it home: but most of all with kind Nicholas for bestowing it upon me; good heart, he hath ventured a chiding if it should be missed. (Drinks.) What foolish Poets were they that made the more foolish gods drink Nectar! Had Apollo presented Daphne but with a cup of such Sack, she would have loved him, as I do Nicholas: but not to lie with him. A gentleman must not humble herself to a Butler. (Drinks.) My Lady.   

The second Scene  Enter lady, by the middle scene. Lady 
What is't should make my husband's jealousy  
Rage so within him to suspect the visits  
Of every friend! Cannot my careful carriage  
Kill his distrust, and make him confident!  
Many a young Lady that had such excuses  
As I may well pretend, his age, diseases,  
And all the cold defects are incident  
To a decaying strength, would privilege  
Her rasher wills dispense with young desires.  
Such are in me; but not to satisfaction:  
I must not wrong my fame: though my hot blood  
Should dance a lustful measure. But he's jealous;  
And I must practise some strange cure upon it.  
Secretary.  Susan. 
madam.  Lady. 
Why do you gaze upon me?  Susan. 
I would not for th'exchange your Ladyship were a man.  Lady. 
And why so?  Susan. 
I should run mad, for love of your Ladyship.  Lady. 
What humour have you got? you have sure been tippling. Fie Secretary.  Susan. 
I hope your Ladyship hath a better opinion of your uman, then to be earnest because she jests.  Lady. 
You know Mr. jerker?  Susan. 
A very handsome gentleman. I wonder no worthy Gentleman is in love with him:  Lady. 
No Secretary; what think you of me?  Susan. 
Doth your ladyship love him? truly and so do.  Lady. 
But not as I do:  
I could betray mine honour to his love;  
And sell my fame for his more embraces:  
Give those delights which are my husband's due  
To his enjoying.  Susan. 
And will your Ladyship discover this to me? Truly I mean not to be degraded from your ladyship's uman, to hold the door, and cry, my Master's coming.  Lady. 
Thy employment shall be  
When we are closely set at dalliance  
Blush not whate'er thou seest; but call thy Master;  
The service may be worth a new gown.  Susan. 
How, call my Master! Did ever any Lady enjoy a friend in a corner, and wish her Husband (who is sufficiently jealous already) to see it! Now as I am a Gentleman, and had rather be a Lady, 'tis not my mind.  Lady 
But 'tis mine;  
His knowledge of't would add to the delight,  
And make th' offence less. City Dames can practise  
Slights to deceive their Husbands, mine shall know it.  Susan. 
But is your Ladyship earnest?  Lady. 
As earnest as resolves can make me.  Susan. 
But I am resolved not to obey your Ladyship. Shall I that am my Lady's Secretary as it were, be treacherous to her secrets? Then let me not be counted a gentleman. If it please your Ladyship I'll tell him you intend such a thing that he may prevent it.  Lady. 
Dispute not my commands, but do them:  
Or I shall stop the current of my favours.  
That hitherto have flowed so fully on thee.   

The third scene.  Enter Sir GENEROUS WORTHY, Jerker, ARTLOVE, Y. WORTHY, SUSAN, JEFFREY, by the middle scene. Sir Gen. 
I have brought you some guest's Wife. Send your entertainment be worth their labour.  Lady. 
I could wish it much better for Master Jerker's sake.  Sir Gen. 
I fear you are too free that way.  
I am yet a man, and my declining age  
Hath not so weakened judgement in me,  
That passion should betray my jealous thoughts.  
Nor can I but suspect, and must be satisfied.  
Her woman is the instrument. Mris. Susan.  Y. W. 
Pray Sir, let me prepare her. No more will I  
In the severer Person of a counsellor  
Instruct your care. But since by curious search  
I have informed my knowledge  
Even to satisfaction of his worth,  
Let me commend this noble gentleman  
Unto your best desires; let him possess them.  Dorot. 
Brother, without mature consideration  
I dare not do an act; on which depends  
Such dangerous events.  Y. W. 
My love's your warrant.  
Have not I searched him throughly? have not I  
Found him deserving all that's due to man,  
Though malice were his judge. View but his person,  
Art could not shape a more exact proportion:  
And through his Crystal bosom read his heart  
Wherein such noble thoughts are charactered—  Susan. 
You shall command a poor Gentleman any thing; neither do I expect reward. I only desire you will accept it as an act of my love. But why should you be jealous of my Lady.  Sir Gen. 
Ask me no idle questions, but do it. Thou mayst be a Lady thyself, if it lie in my power to raise thee.  Susan. 
Alas Sir, an old man raise a Gentleman.  Dorot. 
We have a father (Brother) to whose care  
We owe another duty, then that only  
Which Nature hath enjoined us for receiving  
Our beings from him. Let not our rash wills  
Swayed only by desire, run any course  
Agrees not with his liking: Yet I'll tell  
The Gentleman how much he owes your love  
For thus commending him.  Lady. 
How now Sir Generous?  
Courting my woman? am not I warm enough  
To thaw your frozen appetite?  Susan. 
Truly Sir, if my Lady knew how much I loved  
you, 'twould make her jealous.  Lady. 
Indeed it would not.  
Revenge should be a remedy.  Sir Gen. 
That's my fear.  Lady. 
Nay, to her again; you are not the first  
That hath abused his Lady.  Sir Gen. 
Wife, forgo these fond thoughts, and with care apply yourself to entertain these gentlemen. I'll to my closet.  goes forth. Lady. 
I want but th' opportunity of their absence,  
Which I must straight contrive.  Artl. 
I am now animated  
To come the nearest way without more circumstance;  
And tell you how your beauty and your virtues  
Have won on my desires to make them yours.  Dorot. 
I thank you Sir, and could mine own eyes see  
But half that worth my Brother says is in you,  
My equal thoughts should answer.  YOUNG W. 
What said she Sir?  Artl. 
It seems you did commend me!  Y. W. 
Yes by my hopes of good, no otherwise  
than I desire to have myself commended  
Upon the like occasion.  Artl. 
I must thank you Sir.  Y. W. 
I do interpret it; and have thought upon  
Another trial. Let me entreat you Sister  
To construe my intentions right. Though I  
Commended him, 'twas only to distinguish  
Your passion and your reason. Now I find  
The latter strongest, that you refuse the love  
Of one so much defective.  Dorot. 
How! defective!  
Brother, my judgement hath as searching eyes  
Can see the fullness of his manly worth  
Through all the vails of your detraction.  
And now to show how much I do prefer  
The freedom of my will before your counsel;  
I'll tell him I do love him.  Y. W. 
Sister, I hope  
You are not earnest!  Dorot. 
As earnest as my love;  
Which since I first beheld him took possession  
Of all my thoughts, though customary niceness  
Restrained me from discovering them; but now—  Lady 
Pray daughter oversee the servants.  Exit Dorothy. Y. W. 
Mother beshrew your heart, she was in a good vein. But come sir, we'll pursue it.  Exeunt young Worthy, and Artlove. Ieffr. 
It hath been no small punishment for me to hold my peace all this while. My Cousin is moral before company and counsel's my manners. But now I hope my tongue shall have liberty; and her's my Lady's gentleman to exercise it with.  La. 
Your little Cousin may stay. How like you the plot?  Ierk. 
As the end proves it. And since your constancy  
Hath held out 'gainst my lewd temptations,  
Which have as well been trials of your virtues  
As acts of wantonness, I here desist.  
Henceforth my tongue shall never utter sound  
Offensive to your modesty.  Lady. 
Pray let's sit,  
And enter on the project, though it be nice  
When wit masks virtue in a cloak of vice.  Susan. 
They are going to it, and here's a little one will tell. Pray sir, can you keep counsel?  Ieffr. 
As well as a woman.  Susan. 
Indeed they and children are kin.  Ieffr. 
You need not fear your secrets.  Susan. 
Then I shall love you heartily. But pray Sir, no meddling with a gentleman's apron. Here's that will help your growth: Please you to partake.  Ieffr. 
She abuseth me, I must fit her. What is't Mistress?  Susan. 
Sack I assure you Sir; and I hope you will love a poor gentlewoman's as she loves you.  Ieffr. 
If the Butler be not too deeply interested.  Lady. 
Secretary.  Susan. 
madam.  Lady. 
You forget your employment.  Susan. 
I saw your Ladyship do nothing yet.  Lady. 
Do we not kiss!  Susan. 
I run then, and dare not look back for fear of blushing.  Exit. Ieffr. 
What strange contrivement's this?   

The fourth scene.  Enter Sir GENEROUS WORTHY with SUSAN, by the middle scene. Lady. 
Nay, blush not Mr. jerker, ours is no act of shame, but to be gloried in; youth to youth. Sir Generous are your horns so top-heavy they make you hang the head. Never droop at it man. A Lord may be a Cuckold and never the wiser: you have gotten the knowledge of what you did but suspect before.  Sir. Gen. 
Out of my warring thoughts discretion  
Hath ordered a resolve, whose practice shall  
Preserve my credit. Though I much wonder  
A woman's smooth hypocrisy should make  
Even her secretest actions to appear  
Most virtuous; yet in this to stain her whiteness.  Lady. 
I did it Sir to cure your jealousy  
More than for satisfaction of desire,  
Which I have often satiated, when  
Your cold abilities were comforted  
With down and silence; when your dreams presented  
The quiet of a grave.  Ierk. 
I did it Sir,  
In gratitude for your hospitality.  
Please you to take my counsel. Be divorced.  
You need no proofs, since she's her own accuser.  
I'll then procure a dispensation  
And we'll be married.  Sir Gen. 
'Tis assented to.  
Nay more, I'll give you all her portion back:  
Nor shall the least disquiet in my thoughts  
Make me remember it. Think not (young man) mine age  
So weak, but I can conquer passion.  
My act shall instantly have confirmation;  
And be a precedent where such inequality  
Of years are joined.  Lady. 
Pray good Sir Generous stay.  
I have not yet consented; and I think  
The Law cannot dispense whilst either live.  
If you resolve divorce, you'll only force me  
To an unwilling widowhood; and how little  
My innocence deserves, the least suspect,  
Though I did feign a guilt for better ends,  
Just heaven can witness. There was no necessity  
To tempt my woman to discover us.  
It was my first command.  Sir Gen. 
I hear strange words  
Which must be scanned and construed.  Ierk. 
Here my solicits cease. But I desire  
I may remain the servant of your virtues,  
And wear your favours livery, whose example  
Hath won on my resolves to reconcile  
My wilder soul.  Lady. 
Whilst you persever in't,  
I shall preserve you in my purest thoughts;  
But never to infect them.  Sir Gen. 
The World reputes me  
A man of full discretion; and mine age  
Is not so rotten yet, to be twice child.  
Hence ye vain jealousies, that in love diseased  
Are peccant humours: therefore must be purged.  
Come to my bosom pattern of true goodness.  
ne'er more those bugbears to the minds blessed quiet  
Shall fright thee thence.  Lady. 
Then will my joys be settled.  Sir Gen. 
Good Sir forgive  
The rashness of my passion. I'll no more  
Be jealous of your visits; but desire  
The love I bear your person may be useful  
To all good ends.   

The fifth scene.  Enter Y. WORTHY, ARTLOVE, DOROTHY, &c. Y. W. 
Nay, blush not Sister;  
Though it be virtue's colour. Say't again.  
Here are more witnesses.  Sir Gen. 
Whence grows this exultation?  Y. W. 
From in ward joy that she affects this gentleman,  
Whose Virtues won  
Upon my love to be his Orator;  
And not respects infected with the mixture  
Of any worse condition.  Sir Gen. 
Do you love him?  Dorot. 
I hope to your kind judgement 'twill appear  
A virtuous truth.  Sir Gen. 
If he be found deserving  
In the dependences on blood and fortune  
I shall consent, and then may mutual love  
Render you happy.  Artl. 
How am I blessed that your white soul  
Hath bounded its desires within the circuit  
Of my too narrow worth!  Sir Gen. 
Supper not ready yet! my servants are musical; please you Gentlemen to dance a little. 'Tis a healthful exercise; bid them prepare their instruments. Come, come, settle to it.  Spruce and Warrant, enter with Music. 
I love to see a nimble activeness  
In noble youth; it argues active minds  
In well shaped bodies, and begets a joy  
Dancing within me.  Dance.  

The sixth scene.  Enter Littleword, TONGALL, DUNGWORTH, CONSTABLE, RALPH and DOBSON, by the middle scene. Sir. Gen. 
Welcome neighbour Tongall: what mean these people?  Const. 
I have brought them, an't please your Worship.  Sir Gener. 
Whom, an't please you, Master Constable.  Const. 
The thieves, an't please your Worship, that robbed your worship's Clerk.  Spruce. 
Now Warrant.  Warr. 
How! I robbed! the Constable is surely drunk. I was not robbed.  Const. 
How's that! did not you bring me to the Tavern; show me the fellows, and direct me to apprehend them? Did you not promise me a share if they might be brought to a composition?  Warr. 
Who? I? verily I say I know thee not.  Consta. 
How! not know the Constable! Come Mr. Warrant, let me understand the mystery without being farther abused. You forget the place where we had recreation for nothing, only promising the wench's favour upon occasion: against whom we afterwards informed to get fees.  Sir Gener. 
Is't no otherwise? it shall raise some mirth.  Dobs. 
Did not I tell thee Ralph, the Gentlewomen?  Ralph. 
Well, 'tis a rare thing to be a Justice. Were I but swelled with a little authority, methinks I could cry, you Rogue, you Rascal, or you Constable, most gravely.  Dobs. 
And 'tis as rare a thing to be a Constable; to command in the name of authority, and be drunk at midnight, without danger of the stocks.  Sir Gen. 
I shall respect him Mris. Tongall. Mr. Constable I do conceive an abuse done to my person, in that you here traduce two strangers, pretending appointment, when none will accuse them; nor can I suddenly discover the error.  Constable. 
Now by all the painted authority of my staff—  Sir Gen. 
No swearing Constable; I have determined to confer a power upon the accused, to judge both it and you; and the most offenders shall suffer what shall be due.  Consta. 
Whither shall I fall! from my Empire of command, to obey a mock-Constable! The danger of example forbid it, that Clowns and fools be not made Justices in earnest.  Sir Gen. 
No more of this modesty: I'll have it so; and exercise your wit. I have known a Country fellow full of knavish clinches.  Dobson. 
Yes Sir, 'tis ordinary in a Smith.  Ralph. 
Then if I fit you not for a Justice.  Dobson. 
And I for a Constable. You shall hear my tone.  Const. 
And I for an offendor.  Ralph. 
Can you write and read young gentleman?  Ieffr. 
Like a gentleman.  Ralph. 
Then you shall be my worship's Clerk. And so I assume authority. (hem, hem)  Spruce. 
Now shall we be jeered out of our skins.  Warr. 
Set a good face on't.  Ralph. 
(hem, hem,) what are you sirrah?  Dobs. 
I am Dobson, the Constable an't please your Worship.  Const. 
He lies and't please your Worship, I am the Constable.  Ralph. 
You were the Constable; but your dignity is justly taken from you, and conferred upon honest john Dobson. Thou hast been a rascal sirrah, a corrupt Constable. Thou hast conversed with deeds of darkness, hating the all light, but wenches and a lantern: which a married Constable can never want at midnight. Thou hast watched little and prayed less: thou shalt therefore fast thyself into amendment. And so I commit thee with thy guard of Billmen to the mercy of a Shrove-Tuesdays rebellion. (hem, hem.)  Dobson. 
Here's another defendant, an't please your Worship.  Ralph. 
Now Sir, what are you?  Warr. 
A Justice's Clerk.  Ralph. 
Oh, I know you sirrah.  
You write true Latin, not to be understood by the Worshipful bench.  Warr. 
Your Worship is misinformed. I cannot write true Orthography without a Copy; and for Latin, I have less than the Dean of Dunstable. I have read Ignoramus: but finding hard words which were not in the Dictionary; I swear I understand it no more than Ignoramus himself.  Ralph. 
Make his Mittimus and send him to school; (hem, hem,) what are you Sir?  Spruce. 
A Gentleman Usher.  Ralph. 
You are a Malkin of mock-Gentry; made up of silk and vainglory. You begin to grow out of fashion. I will therefore have you stitched into a case of compliments, and commended to some thrifty housekeeping Lady in the Country, where you may save her Ladyship the charge of a Tailor; and if you can read, serve for a house-chaplain in rainy weather. (hem, hem.) Bring that Country Gentleman before me.  Dung. 
You'd grow saucy sirrah.  Sir Gene. 
Pray let's uphold the jest. I'll not spare mine own person. Your servant's witty.  Ralph. 
You are a Country Gentleman; a Gallant out of fashion all the year; but especially at Sessions, and upon high Holidays, when your satin doublet draws away the eyes of the simple, and distracts their devotion almost into Idolatry: giving it more worship than the Heralds ever gave your Ancestors. You intend as I understand to come forth in a new Edition: and when the Mercers and Tailors have new printed you; and that some gentile wit may be read in your Character to marry a Wife in the City. You shall then have a pass sealed upon her by a Courtier; be shipped at Cuckold's haven, and so transported into Cornwall. (Hem, hem.) Now Sir, what are you? never a wise word to answer a Justice?  Tong. 
He is my friend Sir; and if you abuse him, you shall not have my daughter jinny.  Ralph. 
There is a tempest in her tongue able to shake the foundation of the wisest Justiceship.  Dobs. 
My Lady Sir.  Ralph. 
madam, I have heard complaints of your Ladyship, that you rise early every morning before noon, and are ready before night, unless there be a mask at Court. You are likewise a great frequenter of the balls, merely out of charity to the poor Fiddlers.  Sir Gen. 
He hits you home Wife.  Ieffr. 
And this is my Lady's Gentleman.  Ralph. 
Stop your ears Gentlewomen, here's a foul business towards. But you may tell the man, the time and place, though not the manner.  Secre. 
Truly Sir, if I am with child, 'tis but with a bottle of Sack.  Ralph. 
Give it me; I'll keep it. Many a Justice in the City keeps children are none of his own. (Drinks.)  Ierk. 
A right Sack Justice.  Ralph. 
And now for you Gentlemen. You are of the wits that give poet's Sack and old Bevers, and vent their conceits in Taverns for your own.  Ieffr. 
Please you Sir, these Gentlemen are my friends.  Ralph. 
How's that! a Justice take bribes! the example is too frequent, and I will have it mended.  Sir Gen. 
You begin now to overdo.  Ralph. 
Bribes have purchased more than the whole race of Aldermen since Lud's time.  Sir Gen. 
You are bitter now: 'tis time to resign.  Ralph. 
'Tis time indeed, when I will not take bribes to be a Justice Quondam.  Sir Gen. 
When Wit makes not abuse its exercise,  
The users of it then are truly wise:  
But 'tis a foolish Vanity, not Wit,  
When Conscience bounds are broke to practise it.    

The epilogue.  
you've Ave seen a Play, wherein was no disguise;  
No Wedding; no improbable device:  
But all an easy matter, and contained  
Within the time of action. 'Tis arraigned;  
And doubtful stands before your judgements bar,  
Expecting what your several censures are.  
Some that pretend commission to the Stage,  
As th'only Cato's of this Critic Age;  
Condemning all not done by imitation,  
Because this new Play hath a new foundation  
we fear will cry it down: our hope is then  
That your fair hands will raise it up again.  
FINIS.