Tottenham COURT. A PLEASANT comedy: Acted in the year MDCXXXIII. At the private House in Salisbury-Court.  
The Author THOMAS NABBES.  
AT LONDON, Printed by RICHARD OW●●●N, for CHARLES GREEN; and are to be sold at the Sign of the White Lion, in P à 〈◊〉 Church-yard.   

TO THE WORSHIPFUL WILLIAM MILLS, Esquire.  
SIR,  
THough I know your affection to things of this kind is not such, that you covet men's notice of it, I am bold to prefix your Name to this, as a public declaration of the gratitude I owe you. If you vouchsafe the reading of it, you will find (after the light title) a light subject, more gravely dressed then the vulgar perhaps expected: who please their senses oftener with shows, than their intellects with the true moral end of Plays, instruction. That you should authorise it after the Stages trial was not my intention (for you are none of those that glory to be thought judicious this way, your studies and employments being more high and serious) but that in your acceptance of it, you would show yourself pleased with such acknowledgements as can be rendered by  
Your ever-thankful servant, THOMAS NABBES.   

The prologue.  
Y'Are welcome Gentlemen to Tot'nam-Court,  
Where You (perhaps) expect some lusty sport;  
Such as rude Custom doth beget in MAY,  
When straggling Numbers court that jovial day  
With early Riot. No such thing must be  
The Subject of our easy comedy.  
What then! a humorous, fiery, red-faced Host,  
That will discourse his Guest into more cost  
Then's Cheer is worth: and lies with so much credit,  
As if 'twere truth's Authority, He said it,  
Nor this! The AUTHOR surely then intends  
Some gown-man of the Town, that daily spends  
A thrifty Penny, to preserve his Lungs,  
For a full Voice 'midst the contentious throngs.  
But here is no such Satire: nor is't fit  
Abuse should be the exercise of Wit.  
To feast your sense and minds for Cakes and Ale,  
New, and not staled with handling, here's a Tale  
Dressed up of a fair Milkmaid; whose chaste Theme  
Shall close your stomachs up instead of Cream.  
Cookery and Wit are like: the self same Meat  
Delights one's taste, another cannot eat.  
So 'tis in Fancy's Work: this loves a jest;  
That Language; Matter pleaseth tother best.  
Our play's not larded with great store of these:  
And how the relish of their salt will please  
'Tis doubtful. Yet We are the less afraid;  
Because Your Reckoning is beforehand paid.   

The PERSONS.  

WORTHGOOD. A deserving Gentleman.  
bellamy. His Mistress.  
Her Uncle. An angry country gentleman.  
CICELEY. Sister to Worthgood, but unknown.  
KEEPER of marrowbone-park.  
SLIP. His Man.  
Frank. Two Courtiers.  
GEORGE. Two Courtiers.  
CHANGELOVE. A fantastic Gallant.  
STITCHWELL. A tailor of the Strand.  
His WIFE.  
JAMES. A wild young gentleman of the Inns of Court.  
SAM. A fine Gentleman of the Inns of Court, and Brother to bellamy.  
hostess.  
TAPSTER.  
SERVANT.  
Two Countrymen.  
WENCH.  
A PORTER.   
THE scene, Tottenham-court, and the fields about is.   


Act. 1.  

Scoen. 1.  Enter WORTHGOOD and bellamy, as travailing together before day. WORTHGOOD. 
COme, my Delight; let not such painted griefs  
Press down thy soul: the darkness but presents  
Shadows of fear, which should secure us best From danger of pursuit.  Bella. 
Would it were day:  
My apprehension is so full of horror,  
I think each sound the air's light motion  
Makes in these thickets, is my Uncle's voice,  
Threatening our ruins.  Worth. 
Let his rage persist  
To enterprise a vengeance; we'll prevent it.  
Wrapped in the arms of night (that favours Lovers)  
We hitherto have scaped his eager search,  
And are arrived near London. Sure I hear  
The Bridge's Cataracts, and such like murmurs  
As night and sleep yield from a populous number.  Bella. 
But when will it be day? the light hath comfort.  
〈…〉 senses being lost,  
The last are less delighted.  Worth. 
Th'early Cock  
Hath sung his summons to the day's approach:  
'Twill instantly appear. Why, startled bellamy!  Bella. 
Did no amazing sounds arrive your ear?  
Pray listen.  Worth. 
Come, come; 'Tis thy fear suggests  
Illusive fancies: under love's protection  
We may presume of safety.  Within. 
Follow, follow, follow. She startles from him.  Bel. 
Ay me, 'tis sure mine Uncle. Dear Love. Worthgood.  Wor. 
Astonishment hath seized my faculties.  
My Love, my bellamy. Ha!  Bella. 
Dost thou forsake me Worthgood?  Exit, as losing him, Worth. 
Where's my Love?  
Dart from thy silver Crescent one fair beam  
Through this black air thou Governess of night,  
To show me whither she is led by fear.  
Thou envious darkness to assist us hither,  
And now prove fatal.  Within. 
Follow, follow, follow.  Worth. 
Silence your noise, ye clamorous ministers  
Of this injustice. bellamy is lost;  
she's lost to me. Nor her fierce Uncle's rage  
Who whets your eager aptness to pursue me  
With threats or promises; nor his painted terrors  
Of law's severity, could ever work  
Upon the temper of my resolute soul,  
To soften't into fear, till she was lost: Hollow within.  
Not all th'illusive horrors which the night  
Presents unto th'imagination  
T'affright a guilty conscience, could possess me,  
Whilst I possessed my Love: the dismal shrieks  
Of fatal Owls, and groans of dying Mandrakes,  
Whilst her soft palm warmed mine, were music to me,  
And were this hand but once more clasped in hers,  
This should resist th'assault, inspired by love  
With more than humane vigour.  Within. 
Follow, follow, follow.  Worth. 
Their light appears. No safety doth consist  
In passion or complaints. Night, let thine arms  
Again receive me; and if no kind minister  
Of better fate guide me to bellamy;  
Be thou eternal.  Within. 
Follow, follow, follow.   

scene. 2.  Enter Uncle, servants and tenants with lights, as pursuing them. Vnc. 
Come, wing your hasts: I'll sweeten all your labours  
With large rewards: do but recover them,  
I'll ease your rents; exact no costly customs;  
Quarrel no more about your commons title.  
Good neighbours forward: London's not far off.  1 Ten. 
'Tis so far off, that I cannot see it.  uncle. 
The day will soon discover it.  2 Ten. 
That day is sure a notable informer; yet I believe  
He spies more bad than he mends.  uncle. 
Come, follow me this way.  Exit with his servants. 1 Ten. 
Yes, we will follow; but at some wiser distance: Stay neighbour let him go. Shall we rob our carcases of sleep all night, that have been sufficiently tired with the day's toils, for his reward? what will that bethinke you? a Christmas dinner; with a Chine of his great Ox that died at watering of the blain.  2 Ten. 
You say well neighbour:  
And a stale hare with a great pudding in her belly.  1 Ten. 
And the discourse of his Worships hunting her: how many doubles she made, and mocked his Worship's hope of a better dinner so long, till he thought in his conference she was a Lancashire Witch.  2 Ten 
Yes neighbour, and a choler of Brawn that was fattened with stale porridge.  1 Ten. 
And a goose that broke her neck, creeping through the hedge into the parson's stubble.  2 Ten. 
No neighbour, let the young couple go, and much joy go with them. Let us take up our rests in this thicket, or the next house; for I am as sleepy as if I had eaten a Puppy.  1 Ten. 
How, eat a Puppy!  2 Ten. 
Yes, a Puppy; I heard our Landlord's Carter speak it last Whitsuntide in a Play.  1 Ten. 
And I am as drowsy as a Constable at midnight.  2 Ten. 
Why then resolved: 'twill be day presently: let's put on't the candle, and go to bed, and farewell Landlord. Exeunt.   

The third scene.  Enter bellamy. Bella. 
The day begins to break; and trembling light  
As if affrighted with this night's disaster,  
Steals through the farthest air, and by degrees  
Salutes my weary longings. Yet 'tis welcome,  
Though it betray me to the worst of fate  
Love and desire e'er suffered. Oh my Worthgood,  
Thy presence would have checked these passions;  
And shot delight through all the mists of sadness,  
To guide my fear safe through the paths of danger:  
But thou art lost, and all my joys are fled  
Not to return without thee.  Singing within afar off. Bella. 
New fears assault me. 'Tis a woman's voice.  
She sings; and in her music's cheerfulness  
Seems to express the freedom of a heart  
Not chained to any passions. Be propitious  
Thou regent o'er my fate, and guide her hither  
Unto my comfort.  

The SONG within.  
What a dainty life the milkmaid leads?  
When over the flowery meads  
She dabbles in the dew,  
And sings to her Cow;  
And feels not the pain  
Of love or disdain.  
She sleeps in the night, though she toils in the day;  
And merrily passeth her time away.   Bella. 
What a blessed state is this? the mind's content  
sweetens all sufferings of th'afflicted sense.  
Those that are bred in labour think it sport  
Above the soft delights which wanton appetite  
Begets for others, whom indulgent fortune  
Prefers in her degrees; though equal nature  
Made all alike. Oh, might I change my misery  
For such a shape of quiet.   

The fourth scene.  
To her CICELEY, as going to milking.  
She comes this way.  
He venture to accost her.  Cice. 
Ha! what silken butterfly's yonder! she looks not like one that had kept herself warm all night at the brick-kilns: yet silk petticoats many times are glad with worse lodging.  Bella. 
Good morrow maid.  Cice. 
Should I salute you so, 'twould bring my wit in question. Pray you what are you?  Bella. 
A distressed maid.  Cice. 
A maid at your years, and so near London; where the state of one at 15. is as rate as a light wench's conversion. Never an early walking gallant to take you up this morning! The Park here hath fine conveniences: or Tottenham Court's close by: 'tis suspected that fine City Ladies give away fine things to Court Lords for a Country Banquet there.  Bella. 
I cannot construe it; my innocence makes understanding useless. Good maid, wife or widow (for sure you are a woman) do a courteous office to your sex in me, and guide me to London.  Cice. 
It seems you are a kind Country Gentlewoman, that have bestowed your Maidenhead on your Father's servingman, and are come up to have a Citizen fodder your broken ware. The policy is grown stale: 'twould hardly take ever since the Ballad cursed the Carrier that brought her to town.  Bella. 
Y'are a bad woman sure: and from th'abundance of you own foul ills suspect all others.  Cice. 
The to, is angry, it would fain counterfeit something: perhaps to insinuate herself, and make me her agent. But you are deceived my pretty morsel of wantonness; myself and my Milkpail are both honest: I have no disguised tone of Come, or three penny thrip to cloak a procuress. I am not the Blade's intelligence whether Frank or Moll remove their lodgings to scape the Constable's search and Bridewell. I will to my Cows, and leave you to the fate of the morning: despair not of a customer; but be sure I catch you not napping; for if I do, I have less mercy than Prentices at Shrovetide. I hate hedge-coupling worse than fasting at Christmas, or a Puritans long Grace over short Commons.  Bella. 
If you are good, pray stay and comfort me.  
The sense of my 〈…〉  Cice. 
Why let but an honest 〈…〉 in Middlesex) find you not guilty of any thing that may make compassion deaf— alas, she swoons; poor gentlewoman, be comforted. Should she miscarry, I were in danger, having no witness to purge the suspicion of being her murderess.  Bella. 
Worthgood farewell.  Cice. 
Ha! what said she? Worthgood! I have heard my Father often speak that name, and sigh after it. Alas, she is dead; her breath scarce moves.   

The fifth scene.  
To them Keeper and Slip.  
Oh Father, you are come in time to see me undone: I met this Gentlewoman as I was going to milking, and she is fallen dead. I shall be questioned.  Keep. 
Why what is she?  Cice. 
Nay that's as hard to tell, as the success of my danger. She named one Worthgood.  Keep. 
That word strikes deep amazement. Is she quite dead!  Cice. 
Dead as a herring Sir.  Slip. 
And are not you in a pickle Cicely? She is not dead Sir; she breathes.  Keep. 
She may be recovered. Pull her by the nose.  Slip. 
Pull it off: no matter for spoiling her face if she be dead.  Keep. 
Wring her by the little finger.  Slip. 
Her little finger is ringed; and I will wring it from her.  Cice. 
No robbing the dead Slip.  Slip. 
Why should the dead partake of living ceremonies?  Keep. 
Cast water on her face.  Slip. 
Blow wind in her face. Can water make one alive that's dead? unless it be hot water.  Keep. 
Her spirits are returned; give her more air.  Slip. 
A woman's spirits? they are devilish sure: I had best conjure them back again.  Bella. 
Where am I! what a pleasant vision  
Pleased my dead slumbers, and presented joys.  
As I was passing through th'eternal shades  
Towards Elysium, one of fates Ministers  
Told me I should return; and this same day  
Enjoy my Worthgood.  Keep. 
What's he should own that name! wonder and doubt  
Have raised a war within me, Look up mistress:  
You shall not want what comfort we can give you.  Bella. 
Defend me gentle powers: yet ye shall never  
o'ertake my heart: that's still with Worthgood.  Keep. 
For some blessed Oracle to unfold the meaning  
Of this so oft repeated name.  Bella. 
Ere you return me to my angry Uncle.  
My soul shall fly and meet with his embraces.  Keep. 
What mean you gentlewoman?  Bella. 
You are murderers  
Of that content in me goodness would cherish▪  
You serve the purposes of a passionate man  
For base reward; and that shall render you  
Base to opinion.  Slip. 
Pray sir, let me conjure down this Devil in her tongue; 'twill raise tempests else. Murderers, and base! Pray Gentlewoman, to whom speak you all this?  Bella. 
To you, the injurers of my true love  
And Worthgood's.  Keep. 
Mistress, we know you not; and all your words  
Appear distraction: Nor can they satisfy  
Our yet amazement.  Bella. 
If you are not such  
As my too fearful apprehension thought you,  
Pray, what are ye?  Keep. 
Such as do compassionate  
Your feeling sorrows, and would comfort you.  Bella. 
You'll then perform an act of piety  
Worthy record. Since my distress hath made me  
The object of your pity; pray conduct me  
To some near house, for I am wondrous faint.  Keep. 
Go home with her daughter; use your best care in administering to her: we know not what fate depends upon it. When I have walked the round I'll return. Exeunt.  Slip. 
But pray Cicely, withal, neglect not my breakfast. Rising early and walking gets us good stomachs: yet I could be content to fast with such laced mutton and a good cullis more than half a morning.  Keep. 
What passions fight within me, that beget  
Several constructions of this accident?  
But what my hope interprets cannot be.  
How apt is misery to dream that blessings  
Are all immediate, and no underworkings  
Of means and counsel! I'll not flatter it;  
('tis but th'effect of passion) but return  
To my delight of labour. Saw you the herd  
Last night sirrah?  Slip. 
Yes, sir.  Keep. 
And how fed they?  Slip. 
With their mouths.  Keep. 
You'll not leave your saucy wit, until it be beaten out of you.  Slip. 
'T would be but saucily done of it to leave me so: but if it will not keep me from beating, I'll keep it no longer; but be mannerly. The dear fed well sir, only a mischance. Some Cuckold's cur (for I saw him run towards London) had pulled down two or three young dear.  Keep. 
And what did you with them?  Slip. 
I sent a Fawn to a wanting poet, a friend of mine; who I presume will make profitable use of it. Dress it in some lamentable epitaph and dedicate to his ningle: whose compassion to bounty must redeem his lavendered plush, and commend him again to converse with sack and good company.  Keep. 
You have surely gleaned from that Poet.  Slip. 
Something to make people laugh at me.  Keep. 
Venus did you with the rest?  Slip. 
A longing Lady in the strand had a pricket. Then I sent a sore to barber-surgeons' Hall. A little sore makes them a great feast.  Keep. 
Well sirrah, round you the south side o'th' Park; and meet me at the great Oak. I'll this way.   

The sixth scene.  To them WORTHGOOD very pensive. Slip. 
Pray stay sir, who comes yonder?  Keep. 
He seems a discontented Gentleman. Some dueller perhaps.  Slip. 
Some hot spurred Gallant, that got a drunken fever last night, and must bleed this morning.  Keep. 
Perhaps to revenge an affront done his Mistress.  Slip. 
His common Mistress you mean sir.  Keep. 
It needs no adjective the sense is common enough.  Slip. 
So is the creature; a Cart take them. They have infected more honest Alehouses with bad names, than Cakes and Cream will ever restore again. A wench is grown a necessary appendix to two pots at Tottenham Court.  Keep. 
To your walk sirrah. I'll observe him.  Slip. 
And I'll home to observe how I can sleep after early rising. If my master should catch me napping, 'tis but dreaming a lie to excuse it. I'll persuade him 'tis as true Prophecy as Booker's Almanac. Exit.  Worth. 
After so many longings to salute  
The welcome light, it hath betrayed my sense  
To worse affliction, then if sights privation  
Had made it useless; since it wants the object  
Can both delight and feed it, Back blushing morn  
To thy Mygdonian bed; there shake the dew  
From thy wet locks; and teach thy guilty shame  
To die that red in an eternal black,  
Unless it bring more comfort.  Keep. 
Discontent  
Rides on his forehead; and doth seem to trample  
Upon his soul's dejection. Would I knew him.  
Good morrow Sir.  Worth. 
Ha! 'tis a fair salute.  
I do return your wish.  Keep. 
Sir, you must pardon me  
If I seem curious in some few demands.  
My office and this place are privilege  
For more than questions. Pray Sir what are you?  Worth. 
This sure is marrowbone-park, and he the Keeper.  
A Gentleman that comes not to offend you.  
I spoil no game: you see I am unfurnished  
Of instruments for such a wanton mischief.  Keep. 
But Sir, without a better satisfaction  
I must suspect you still. Mere recreation  
To walk for health seldom invites young Gallants  
To leave their beds so early. I must have more.  Worth. 
Must saucy groom! can any patience  
Construe it manners? Your rude compulsion shall not  
Enforce me to express so weak a spirit,  
Whilst I have hands, and this.  Keep. 
At that guard Sir?  
Then this must countercheck it. Either tell me  
Your name, condition, and your business here;  
By my just anger for this foul provoking  
I shall not spare you else.  Worth. 
How happy now  
Might this occasion make me, were she lost  
Beyond that hope which whispers her yet safety!  
I must preserve myself. Yet if thou triumph'st  
In my submission, 'cause I had rather lose  
A little outward credit to prevent  
Worse mischief, know I can devise revenge,  
Shall be a fair example for base difference  
From the pretence of any borrowed power  
To overdo its duty. My name's Worthgood.  Keep. 
Enough; that word hath power to check the force  
Of any passion, though the hottest rage  
Enslamed it to be active.  Worth. 
here's a change.  
Why sure my name's a spell. How it hath calmed  
The tempest of his fury!  Keep. 
What black star  
Was found th'ascendant in my crooked birth:  
That all my life's sad accidents should be  
Such pregnant ills begetting one another!  
One sudden rashness in a moment might  
Perhaps have mined him my duty honours:  
Making this hand a mover to his death,  
Whose life I ought to cherish.  Worth. 
What wouldst else?  Keep. 
Nothing but pardon Sir; or if you please  
Th'occasion brought you hither. Lost you no company?  Worth. 
It cannot sure be fear that makes me jealous.  
I dare the worst of fate. Be he an actor  
In my pursuit, I'll venture all at once.  
I have lost a Gentlewoman, and doubt her safety:  
If any chance hath guided you to find her,  
Do not delay my satisfaction.  Keep. 
I joy that chance made me the instrument  
Of such a good. Please you to follow me.  
I'll guide you to this pensive one, that grieves  
More your feared loss then her own misery.  
She named you oft; when (by her fit transported)  
Recovering from a swoon, she thought herself  
Surprised by some that meant her injury.  Worth. 
Shall I give faith? my resolution's mad;  
Yet it shall try th'event. Despair may bring  
A good success to an indifferent thing. Exeunt.    

Act. 2.  

Scoen. 1.  Enter Frank and GEORGE, as walking to Tottenham-Court. George. 
FIe Frank; there's such a disproportion,  
'Twill ne'er be brought to an equality.  Fr. 
Why George, dost think th'exterior goods of fortune,  
Or titular greatness that derives itself  
From larger springs, and slows to swell the blood  
With attributes of gentle, or of noble  
Can make the difference such, that the free soul  
Must have the limits of her large desires  
Prescribed by them? Nature's impartial:  
And in her work of man prefers not names  
Of ancestors▪ She sometimes forms a piece  
For admiration from the basest earth  
That holds a soul: and to a beggar's issue  
Gives those perfections make a beauty up;  
When purer moulds polished and glossed with titles,  
Honours and wealth, bestow upon their bloods  
Deformed impressions; objects only fit  
For sport or pity.  Geo. 
Yet never can the mixture  
Of gold with clay make any transformation  
Of that base matter into purer metal.  Fran. 
The Chemistry of Love can surely do it.  
Wedlock confers all honour that's a husband's  
Upon his wife.  Geor. 
And therefore you will marry  
A milk wench; one that's drudge unto necessity.  
'Twould be a credit to that long continuance  
Of noble matches which your ancestors  
Have linked to the chain of their own bloods,  
To make the series of their Families  
Spread in so many glorious divisions.  
Come, let my counsel guide these passive Fires  
To flame aright, and send their Pyramids  
More upwards. Let the grosser stuff that feeds them,  
By an inversion, choke them. From advice  
Men must choose wives, not passion.  Fran. 
She is fair:  
Upon her person all the graces wait,  
And dance in rings about her. Her bright eye  
Is Loves chief mansion where he keeps his Court.  
Envy not fair ones, if my fancy doth  
Give all your dues to her, save only those  
Which your defects supply from wanton art.  
Her white and red she borrows not from any  
cosmetic drugs; nor puzzles the invention  
Of learned practitioners for oil of Talxe  
To blanch an Ethiops skin. Lilies and Roses  
Are figures fitting common beauties: hers  
Wants a comparison but its proper self.  Geo. 
You swell her praise too high; so mean a subject fits not these raptures.  Fran. 
she's a subject, George,  
For larger volumes than invention  
Yet ever filled with flattering hyperboles.  
The very thought of her hath strained my heartstrings  
Up to a pitch of joy; whose music makes  
My spleen dance lusty measures.  Geo. 
If she be  
So rare a piece, her low condition  
Makes me suspicious she's some common wanton  
Lurks in that mask for safety.  Fran. 
Did not friendship  
Restrain't, I should be angry: nay more; punish  
So great a sin against her innocence.  
I have laid all the baits that might entice  
Apt inclination to sweet wickedness;  
But could not catch her that way. She hath shunned them  
With witty scorn, and such imperious checks  
Have made me blush at my intentions soulness:  
Which now is cleared with noble resolution  
To give my hot desires their satisfaction  
In fair embraces, such as the reverence  
Of lawful Wedlock sweetens.  Geor. 
Virtuous policy.  
Kill reputation, that you may preserve  
A little better conscience. Any judgement  
Would make a fair construction of my life,  
That surfeits in delights, and plays the Epicure  
In all variety and choice of pleasures  
Sooner then of thy act. Where ills do want  
A fair excuse (as thine doth) they are doubled.  Fran. 
When thou hast seen her, thou wilt soon acknowledge  
In what a misty error thy invectives  
Have lost themselves.  Geo. 
Nay rather hide her from me.  
She may raise motions; and if I should rival thee,  
I must be served: nothing was ere devised  
To fright libidinous nature from its proneness,  
That can restrain me.  Fran. 
Shalt not make me jealous?  
Her soul is guarded with so many virtues  
Temptations cannot better it: and i'th' way  
Of noble love (though yet she never sung  
The music of consent) I dare prefer  
myself the first accepted.  Geor. 
Still be confident.   

The second scene.  
To them CHANGLOVE, Stitchwell, and his WIFE.  
But who comes yonder?  Fran. 
Some City loving couple.  Geor. 
What's that Gallant?  Fran. 
Surely 'tis Will Changelove;  
The Proteus of affection: one that varies  
As many shapes of love as there are objects.  
But what that she-thing is I do not know.  Geo. 
She seems a handsome piece. That opportunity  
Would play the Bawd a little.  Fran. 
You'd be nibbling.  
Changelove is my acquaintance. If they come this way (as 'tis most likely Tottenham-Court's the end of their early walking) I'll be thy introduction. Let's walk softly.  Geor. 
Whilst I do ruminate some policy.  Stitch. 
Besides the recreation Sir, 'tis healthful.  Chang. 
Indeed sloth dulls the spirit's activeness.  
And too much sleeping blunts the senses quickness;  
Though some be very needful; their affects  
Are the preservers of their instruments.  
I love early rising.  Mris. St. 
But methinks a nap in a morning's good.  Cha. 
True Mris. Stitchwell; when the brain hath purged  
itself of grosser fumes, the fancy yields  
Such solace to the inward waking sense  
In pleasant dreams, that I have often wished  
Those shadows real which they have presented;  
Or their continuance to eternity.  
Indeed I love to sleep in the morning.  Stitch. 
But stirring and exercise, I say.  Wife. 
I would you would use it in bed then.  Stitch. 
I tell you Mr. Changelove though I am a tailor I keep servants that are stout knaves. I love them well, and they look well to my business. On holidays I give them leave to use exercise.  Wife. 
Yes husband, your finisher is a pretty a fellow as ever did tradesman or his wife service. He pitcheth the bar, and throws the stone; it doth me good to think of it.  Stitch. 
I have a Cornish-Lad that wrestles well, and hath brought home rabbits every Bartholmew-tide these five years. At stool ball I have a northwest stripling shall deal with ever a boy in the strand.  Change. 
Now you speak of a ball, I would we had one here; 'tis a commendable exercise: the great Physician Galen wrote a book, de exercitations parvae pilae.  Wife. 
What's that, pray sir?  Change. 
Concerning the exercise of the little ball.  Wife. 
It seems great Physicians will busy themselves about small things: but they are not of my mind.  Geor. 
How lik'st the project?  Fran. 
As the end proves it; howsoever, it promiseth fairly.  Geo. 
They are arrived: let us prepare ourselves.  Fran. 
Mr. Changelove; a happy day follow this pleasant morning.  Change. 
Worthy friend, I return your salute with double wishes: pray know this Gentleman and his bedfellow.  Fran. 
The day must needs be fortunate, that begins with such fair Omens.  Wife. 
I pray sir, why doth that Gentleman shun your company? I hope we fright him not. It had been manners to salute me.  Fran. 
He always doth that by attorney Mistress.  Wife. 
Then I must pay the fees.  Fran. 
The truth is, he is a great woman-hater.  Wife. 
Now out upon him. I thought he was gelt, he is so fat. Beast that I was to be so unmerciful to a dumb thing; I had a dog served so for the same purpose.  Fran. 
It is a disposition in his will,  
Not a defect of power.  Stitch. 
How said you sir? cannot that Gentleman endure women?  Fran. 
Hardly their sight at distance. 'Tis affliction  
Unto his very soul to hear their virtues  
Discoursed, unless in scorn.  Chang. 
A strange unmanly humour: I love not that.  Wife. 
May all the curses our injured sex can study, fall upon him for it: and I think we can curse.  Frank. 
I know, to him my company is dear;  
And our intentions have the self same end  
Of mutual enjoying: now, with what dejection  
He doth expect I should divide myself  
From you, may be conceived.  Wife. 
I beseech you kind sir leave us not.  Change. 
I should love some witty plot upon him.  Frank. 
He is my friend: yet I would gladly aid  
In any easy mischief, that might aim  
At his reclaiming.  Wife. 
Let's get him arraigned as one was in a play. Let me alone to aggravate his indictment to the Jury; which shall be twelve Midwives of my acquaintance: yet I'll be sworn I never used any of them.  Change. 
I have it.  Stich. 
Pray first hear mine: let's run to Tottenham-Court for a wager.  Fran. 
'Tis excellent; so his gross Body's toil  
To follow us, shall be our laughter.  Stitch. 
Right: or if he stay behind, let my wife alone to vex him.  Chang. 
Let's run then: 'tis a brave Olympic exercise;  
I love it well; but how shall we dispose  
Of all these cumbers?  Fran. 
Let us not be footmen.  Change. 
Indeed a seeming careless stayed formality  
In such like wantonnesses best becomes  
A gentleman. I love it.  Fran. 
Forwards then.  Chang. 
The wager?  Stitch. 
Every man his dozen. Exeunt running.  Wife. 
Why sweetheart; why husband; why john; do you leave your Wife behind, to be taken up by everybody? Now the love of man's society defend me from this abuser of creation. Come not near me thou man of clouts; thou malkin of virility; thou half woman, and all beast: or with these nails I will tear out thine eyes, and all the double things are left about thee.  Geor. 
Be milder gentle mistress. There's nothing in me  
Appears unto myself so full of guilt  
It should deserve reproach from you a stranger.  Wife. 
There's nothing in you indeed sir; your friend hath given me your character. You pretend to hate women, because women have reason to hate you.  Geo. 
I hate women!  
Now by my love of pleasure, no delight  
Hath any relish on the wanton palate  
Of my desires; unless some mixture season it  
That is derived from them.  Wife. 
Yes sir; you may take delight in them, but they little in you. Come not too near, there's infection in it: my blood desires no freezing. The Summer of my youth is not yet half spent; or if it were Autumn with me, high feeding and ease requires something.  Geo. 
She takes me for an Eunuch. Sure my friend  
Hath overdone his part; and drawn the counterfeit  
Too near the life of truth. Sweet Mistress hear  
The language of my heart that cannot gloss  
My plainer thoughts with superficial words.  
I love you; my desires are throughly fired,  
And burn my blood: which but your free enjoying  
Nothing can quench.  Wife. 
Why, I am a woman sir.  Geo. 
I think you are; and one made up for pleasure,  
More than the dull converse of what's defective.  Wife. 
You say true sir: I hear it with a heavy heart.  
But I hope sir, you would not have me make my husband a Cuckold.  Geo. 
Fie, that's a gross construction; only shame  
And common knowledge doth it, not the act  
Of a wife's wantonness.  Wife. 
I need no instructions for secrecy. Trust me a handsome Gentleman. The wickedness of his friend to believe him so. Dare you kiss me sir?  Geo. 
A pledge for what should follow.  Wife. 
You shall do what you will with me, but making my husband Cuckold.  Geo. 
No more of that. Nay, this way.  Wife. 
What, back again! No by my Strand-honesty. I'll to Tottenham-court after my husband. If there be that necessity at any time that I must make my husband a Cuckold, I'll do it before his face: any Citizens Wife can do it behind her husband's back.  Geo. 
Your will disposeth mine: we there may find  
Handsome conveniences; and I'll renew  
My counterfeit of woman-hater: it  
May cast a mist before his jealous eyes  
Would watch us else. Exeunt.   

The third scene.  Enter CICELEY and bellamy in one another's clothes. Cice. 
I hope y'are satisfied: but to what end this change should serve, I would fain be instructed.  Bella. 
I'll tell you. When we feared pursuit, we left our horses, and the high way. The horses are surely found; and by them my being hereabouts may be conjectured. Now this disguise shall help me to scape their search.  Cice. 
Now out upon't. Had I no better an opinion of your honesty, then of your wit (both which smell all together of the country) I would again leave you to seek out your own danger. You have gentle-fied me with your clothes; and you are handsome enough in mine: for though I am but a milk-wench, I ever loved neatness. Now you shall personate my maid, and wait upon me to London; I'll personate you, and if any thing rise from the mistake, we'll turn it to the best use. If I find not out your sweetheart, let me never be counted a Prophetess: and I am sure I have foretold weather from the turning up of my cow's tail.  Bella. 
Dispose me as you please, I dare the worst  
Of my malicious. Now love hath armed me  
With better resolution.  Cice. 
In this disguise I'll meet the Gallant courts me every morning at Tottenham-Court, and sound the depth of his pretended honest meaning. My condition is too low to win upon his desires to marry me: and the other thing without it, he shall never have.  Within. 
Why Ciceley, Cicely, I say my breakfast A quick supply of meat, drink and sleep, or I rage presently.  Bella. 
Bless me, who's that?  Cice. 
My father's man.  Bella. 
he'll spoil all. To them Slipp hastily.  Cice. 
Be you confident.  Slip. 
Where's this maggoty-pie of Marrowbone? Come you clean washed chitterling, and give me my breakfast. How now Cicely, where hath your face been? at the painters? Hay-day; Ciceley's own face, and this Mistress die for love Ciceley-side. Now I swear by hunger (and that's a strong oath) I think women have more fegaries than the Devil would have Clients, if he were a Lawyer and pleaded without fees.  Cice. 
Keep counsel sirrah you had best; and if my father ask for me, tell him I will not be lost long. So fare you well. Exeunt.  Slip. 
You will not be lost long: he is likely to have a sweet match of it that finds you. Yet I could be content my seven years' service might be so rewarded. But the baggage is as coy as an Alderman's eldest daughter: she hath beaten me a hundred times (coward as I was for suffering it) for attempting to kiss her. But now I will revenge it upon her Cream-bowls; over whose sweets I will triumph.   

The fourth scene.  
To him KEEPER, WORTHGOOD.  
New mischief; I am again delayed. If I forbear my breakfast but two minutes longer, my guts will shrink into minikins: which I bequeath the poor Fiddlers at Tottenham-court, for a May-day's Legacy.  Keep. 
Y'are welcome to this roof; too mean a covering  
For such a guest.  Worth. 
Your first sir hath enriched it.  
And hallowed it into a Temple. Pray sir.  
Conduct me to the Altar, where I may  
Pay the due sacrifice of my desires  
To her; and thanks to you.  Keep. 
Slip, call my daughter.  Slip. 
Which daughter sir? your daughter gentlewoman, or your gentlewoman daughter?  Keep. 
Your trifle's unseasonable sirrah.  Slip. 
Why sir, Ciceley's no more plain Cicely, but Cicely in laced satin. The gentlewoman and she are run out of themselves one into another.  Keep. 
But where are they?  Slip. 
For aught I know, run away one with another.  Keep. 
Run you after, and call them back.  Slip. 
'Tis impossible: who knows which way they are gone. Besides, 'tis a mist would choke a brewer's horse; I cannot see one hand for the other.  Worth. 
Sir, my suspicion prompts me you are treacherous:  
And these fair seeming undertakings traps  
To catch me.  Keep. 
Sir, you make a worse construction  
Of my good meaning, then so fair expressions  
Can any way deserve. Pray sir go with me,  
we'll overtake them.  Worth. 
I will share the pains;  
And venture once again to try you thoroughly.  Keep. 
Follow you sirrah. Exeunt.  Slip. 
A killing command. The best is, it will break my heart, no matter then for my belly. Hunger, I defy thee; revenge I hug thee. I will lead you a wild-goose chase, till we come to Tottenham Court: where I will score two dozen, and reckon with mine hostess maid, whose belly I have raised with umbles. Exit.   

The fifth scene.  Enter STITCHWELL, Frank, CHANGLOVE. Frank. 
You are the Olympian, Sir.  Stitch. 
Do you think Gentlemen I'd let you outstrip me at exercise? I'll jump with ye for a dozen more.  Change. 
Pray Sir let's jump: I love it mightily.  Frank. 
My breaths not yet recovered. By this time sir. your Wife hath converted my friend to a civiller disposition.  Stitch. 
Let her alone. If she do it not, I durst forswear exercise; and that would be the greatest vexation.  Fran. 
Greater then if your maid should drop the candle on your festival satin doublet?  Chang. 
Or the Cats piss upon your Military feather?  Frank. 
Or an inferior neighbour be preferred for a common counsel man?  Stitch. 
Mere trials to the forbearing of exercise.  Frank. 
Or if a gallant should deal with your wife in your absence for body covering, and give her Court payment.  Stitch. 
A very likely matter. She that goes thrice a week to morning exercise, and will make repetition over sweet meats at a gossiping. I tell ye gentlemen, I have trusted her to a Mask, and the Inns a Court revelling: she knew the way home again without a Crier. She hath converted a hundred of her purer neighbours, by her example.  To them Tapster. Frank. 
here's more than City confidence. But shall we enter?  Tap. 
Y'are welcome Gentlemen.  To them Wife, presently George. Chang., 
A handsome room sirrah.  Tapst. 
The best in the house sir. Exit.  Frank. 
Your Wife's come, sir.  Stitch. 
Welcome sweetheart.  Wife. 
Kind gentlemen, hold my heart, oh. Nay one at once: pray hold it hard, oh!  Stitch. 
What's the matter chuck?  Wife. 
Oh my breath: there's not so much wind left in me, as would make a noise to be excused with the creaking of one's shoe: oh. You are a kind husband to leave me behind. Had it been with one that had loved a woman, showed her the nearest way, or laid her down upon his cloak when she had been weary. But I think I fitted him.  Fran. 
And beshrew him if he fitted not you.  Chang. 
Here he is likewise.  Fran. 
You blow hard George.  Stitch. 
Come Gentlemen, shall we walk in.  Geor. 
I would enjoy my friend a little here.  Wife. 
You shall enjoy your friend sir. Exeunt.  Fran. 
And what success?  Geor. 
Why dost not hear her promise?  
You shall enjoy your friend. she's pliant Frank  
Unto my wishes: nothing no remains  
But to deceive her husband; thou must aid me.  Frank. 
Wouldst have me Pandarize?  Geor. 
I'll do't for thee.  
These are sweet sins, and only do intend  
The pleasure of desire, which would be killed  
With two much scruple.   

The sixth scene.  
To them CICELEY and bellamy.  
What are these?  Bella. 
What place is this? a common Alehouse?  Cice. 
Fear you nothing, but put on confidence.  Fran. 
I have seen that face, the figure's in my heart.  
'Tis surely she: her habit cannot mock  
My knowing sense. I'll venture on the trial.  Geo. 
This is his Milkmaid sure. I still suspected  
'Twas some disguised name to conceal a Mistress.  
Now by my life she's fair; I envy him;  
And my desires have almost tempted me  
To put in for a share: but friendship checks it.  
She may perhaps be virtuous, and well borne.  
And worthy his resolves: my City beauty  
Shall serve at this time.  Fran. 
Didst thou think that mask  
Could veil thee from my souls distinguishing?  
Wherein thy form's impressed, which fancy shows me  
At every change of thoughts.  Cice. 
Clothes have not altered  
My person nor condition. I am still  
Plain Cicely and your handmaid. This exchange  
Proceeds but from an honest merriment:  
And when you understand the story right,  
You'll make a fair construction.  Fran. 
'Twere a sin  
To think amiss of thee; tears cannot expiate▪  
When thou art mine, I'll feed thy appetite  
With pleasures best variety. tailor's daily  
Shall shape proportions for thy dainty body,  
To make invention pregnant of new fashions.  
Th'Exchange shall be thy Wardrobe to supply  
Thy will with choice of dressings t'harken out  
A jewel to adorn thee, if the value  
Exceed not my estate; I'll sell it all  
To purchase thy content.  Cice. 
Your promises  
Are much too large. My too unworthy service  
Cannot deserve to be commanded by you.  
Gallant I'll try you.  Fran. 
Th'ecstasy hath made me  
Forget my friend: 'tis she George changed in habit  Geo. 
I am your servant fair one, and my heart  
Vow's an obedience when your commands  
Assign me any task.  Bella. 
I do not like  
The courtship of these gallants: 'tis gross flattery,  
And tends I fear to ill.  Fran. 
Come dearest will you  
Accept the entertainment of this place?  
Some worthy company within expects me.  Cice. 
I shall strain modesty, you excusing it.  
Come maid.  Bella. 
Why should I fear; that have defence  
From Worthgood's love, and mine own innocence? Exeunt.    

Act. 3.  

Scoen. 1.  TAPSTER, JAMES, SAM. Tapster. 
Y'Are welcome Gentlemen.  Iam. 
Now my parrot of froth, whose mouth is lined with tapestry; what company is in the house?  Tap. 
None of your acquaintance but Mr. Changelove.  Iam. 
Will Changelove? prithee call him hither.  Tap. 
I shall sir; By and by. Some stewed prunes for the two costive Citizens in the bull's head; and more roll for the three Tailors in the Smithfield-Lyon.  Iam. 
How shall we spend the day Sam? Exit.  Sam. 
Let's home to our studies and put cases.  Iam. 
Hang cases and books that are spoiled with them. Give me johnson and Shakespeare; there's learning for a gentleman. I tell thee Sam, were it not for the dancing-school and playhouses, I would not stay at the Inns of Court for the hopes of a chief justiceship.  Sam. 
Time would be better spent in reading laws,  
Teaching our knowledge how to argue doubts:  
For in our after-states such may arise  
That without policy's help may ruin it.  Iam. 
Formality; a grave youth in a gown. Thou think'st 'tis becoming to walk thus to Tottenham-court, and at home so punctual in conformity. I had rather a French consumption should wear my hair off then a round cap.  Sam. 
'Tis not to make it my profession,  
(Although in some it be most necessary)  
(For how can government and laws subsist  
Without their ministers, whose skill and judgement  
Distinguish right from wrong) but to be able  
To manage what's mine own, as time shall send it,  
You are likely to inherit fair possessions,  
Gained by a father's industry; perhaps  
With some contention, and conveyances  
May be defective: were't not better far  
yourself could understand it, than to trust  
The honesty or skill of a bought counsel?  Iam. 
Hang state: I took no pains to get, why then should I take any to keep it? if it will stay, so 'tis: if not, Shopkeepers that will trust, shall be paid when they can get it. A law of necessity Sam, and always in force with Gallants.  Sam. 
I had rather hear another resolution.   

The third scene.  To them CHANGELOVE. Iam. 
Will Changelove, well met at Tottenham-court.  
What made thee rise so early?  Chang. 
The company of half a man: expound my Riddle, and be a whole Oedipus.  Iam. 
It must be more than thy tailor.  Change. 
Right, his Wife; who being half of himself, makes up the third part a half man. I love his company man, and pay him with nothing but courtesies: a Tottenham-court's kindness is principal, interest and security.  Iam. 
What shall we drink? Ale?  Chan. 
I love it best; the old English natural drink. But can this gentleman study after Ale?  Sam. 
If I avoid the excess.  Iam. 
Ale's muddy: what think you of Beer?  Chang. 
I love Beer best. The planting of hops was a rare projection in the Dutch; it hath taught some of them English naturally.  Iam. 
Shall we hunt today Will? I heard the common cry abroad.  Chan. 
Hunting! 'tis sport to make immortal activeness  
Even in the dullest Earth. A well-mouthed cry  
Outdoes the Spheres in Music. Gods themselves  
Have left their fabulous Heaven, to put on  
The shapes of hunters: courting such delights  
In these disguises, that hath made them wish  
Th'exchange of their ethereal government  
To live with mortals. I love hunting dearly.  
What saith your friend?  Sam. 
Indeed sir, my affection  
Is better pleased with solitary study:  
A sober morning's walk, is exercise  
Enough for me.  Chan. 
You are to be commended.  
Why, Contemplation is the very being  
Of man's delight: it shows his nobler part  
Converse with things divine; the nimble soul  
Climbs by it to a height of happiness.  
I must confess I love it. Music  Iam. 
Is there Music with the company you left?  Chan. 
And good too: 'tis company of that curiosity, ordinary stuff will not please them.  Iam. 
Would thou wouldst enter me into their acquaintance; we might have a dance.  Enter STITCHWELL, Frank, CHANGLOVE. Chan. 
Why, I love dancing too. Agility  
Commends the good composure of one's body;  
And graceful garbs are taking. No perfection  
Doth make the object of a handsome man  
So pleasing in a Lady's eye, as Dancing.  
This Room's more spacious: I'll invite them hither.   

The third scene.  
To them Frank, CICELEY, Stitchwell, WIFE, bellamy, and GEORGE behind the women.  
They have prevented me.  Frank. 
The room's possest.  Sam. 
You may command a resignation.  Iam. 
Please you t'admit us; we would fain partake  
Your worth and company.  Frank. 
Your friends Will Changelove?  Chang. 
Yes, noble sir.  Frank. 
They're welcome to my knowledge.  
Numbers addition will increase our mirth,  
And swell it to more height.  Bella. 
Arm me now confidence,  
And teach my tongue, that never spoke untruth  
From a consideration, practice lying,  
And the denial of my proper self.  
It is my brother, he'll discover me.  Sam. 
'Tis surely she: they're all her lineaments.  
Had I ne'er seen her; had not knowing sense  
Power to distinguish, natural instinct  
Would tell me 'tis my sister. Why disguised?  
And why come hither? it hath wrapped my reason  
In mists of wonder. Yet I cannot fear  
She hath betrayed her honour to base wantonness.  
She had a guard of virtues; else hypocrisy  
Taught her to seem a Saint, and paint that goodness  
With a false colour. Know you not my sweet heart?  Bella. 
No indeed sir.  Sam. 
Is not your name Bellamuel?  Bella. 
Neither sir.  Sam. 
denies herself.  
There's something in't above my reach of fear.  
Passion forbear me, and I'll work with policy,  
To find the scope of all.  Cice. 
A sweet young Gentleman.  
Is this your sweetheart maid?  Sam. 
Is she your servant?  
I would have called her kinswoman for resemblance  
She hath with one of mine.  Cice. 
Your Aunt or Cousin?  Sam. 
Means she in the mystical sense of ill?  Iam. 
Shall we dance gentlemen? musicness, and let activeness freeze! Shall I use you sweet Mistress?  Wife. 
Kindly sir, or I am waspish. A wasp you know hath a sting.  Iam. 
Please that gross gentleman?  Wife. 
By no means sir: dancing will hurt his Sciatica.  Iam. 
Do you know him then?  Wife. 
Yes, and will know him better if he come near me.  
He is one into whom the spirit of Swetnam's crept.  
I hope sir you are of a kinder disposition to our sex.  Iam. 
You see Mistress I am for their company any way.  Stitch. 
Pray sir let's go nearer the women.  Geor. 
Pray sir forbear: you'll not compel me rudely.  
Perhaps there's an aversion in my nature.  
The company of women's mine affliction.  Stitch. 
My wife shall vex you then.  Chang. 
And I love Man's society: solid souls,  
Void of all light impressions; whose discourse  
Tends not to superficial compliment,  
But hath more sense than sound.  Fran. 
You are for dancing;  
Possess my room,  Chang. 
The women's creature sir.  
There's Magic in their company that charms  
All masculine affections, but of pleasure  
In their enjoying. I'll spin or thread their needles,  
Read Spenser and th' Arcadia for their company.  Wife. 
I'll dance with you Mr. Changelove.  Stitch. 
One cup more, I'll be for the exercise.  Wife. 
You'll have more anon husband, than your head will well carry.  Geo. 
She means horns.  
Which if I fail to give her, may I turn  
Chastities convert, and be mortified  
From my concupiscence with hourly discipline.  They dance. Wife. 
Why how now husband? you'll be tippled presently.  Stit. 
Hold good wife, before strangers? Tother dozen, and then I'm gone.  Wife. 
I would you were gone once for me.  Geor. 
So would I.  Stit. 
Gentlemen, a health to—  Fran. 
Whom sir?  Stit. 
All the Cuckolds in the strand.  Wife. 
Fie husband, you forget yourself. Nay, gentlemen he is such another man; when he hath got a cup or two he'll not stick to abuse his betters. I beseech you bear with him, I shall be ready to bear with any of you.  Stit. 
Wife, you shall drink a health to all the Cuckold-maker in Cornwall.  Wife. 
You mean wrestler's sweetheart; you are so taken with your Cornish Prentice. I tell ye gentlemen, hearing him talk the other day of the hug, I wished him to show me what 'twas: the stiff knave presently gives me a fall: but it was upon a soft bed.  Frank. 
Otherwise there had been danger.  Iam. 
Come sweet Mistress, the other dance.  Cice. 
Will you make one sir?  Geo. 
Alas fair Mistress, my gross body wants  
A mimic activeness.  Cice. 
But you can move sir?  Wif. 
Bestir your stumps a little sir. Are women such bugbears, especially handsome ones? for I have been flattered.  Stit. 
Well said Wife; to him Wife.  Wif. 
I durst undertake yet, had you one of us in a corner.  Geo. 
How she instructs me! nay then. Exit.  Fran. 
Will you be gone George?  St. 
After him Wife, put him to't, and tickle him home.  Wif. 
I'll warrant husband I'll bring him into play. Exit.  Iam. 
It seems this gentleman loves not the company of women.  Chang. 
At least wise 'tis pretended. Were't a plot  
To gull her husband, I should love it dearly.  
Why did not I attempt it, that have had  
More opportunities than ever made  
Sin fruitful in the pleasure? If't be so,  
The next share shall be mine. I love a wench  
As well as he or any.  Stit. 
Tother health, and then farewell,  Fran. 
Mr. Stitchwell is your name?  Stit. 
A tailor in the Strand; and I am as good a man there as Deputy Tagg in the City, though he think himself an Alderman's fellow, and no Cuckold.  Fran. 
You mind Cuckolds much: good sir remember yourself.  St. 
By your leave then; I must, and I will, I will and I must.  Fran. 
What must you sir?  Stit. 
Why, you may do what you will; and I will do what I list. Exit.  Iam. 
The tailor's paid.  Chang. 
By your favour, 'tis a lie.  Fran. 
And his Wife too by this. Follow me gentlemen, and if he prevent it not, we'll share some pastime. Sweet, I'll return presently. Exeunt men.  Cice. 
Can my chaste thoughts within their spotless circuit  
Retain a good opinion of this gentleman,  
Who gives free scope to his libidinous will  
In actions that stain conscience?  Bella. 
Can my ills  
Grow to a greater height? my honour's danger  
Runs equal with my persons.  Cice. 
He hath courted  
Almost beyond resistance, (had not goodness  
Preserved me white) to sully me with lust;  
And failing offered marriage.  Bell. 
Can a Brother  
Construe this place, disguise, and company  
Less than a lapse from virtue in a Sister,  
Who laboured more to be good really,  
Then ever hypocrite did to appear so.  Cice. 
I must not trust. Besides, mine eye hath seen  
An object that delights it; and desire  
Begins to burn my bosom with new flames  
I yet ne'er felt. 'Tis an ambitious love,  
And must be checked. Why? sure my Birth's more noble:  
My spirit argues it, which never yet  
Harboured a common thought; but all above  
The lowness of my fortune. How now Mistress?  Bella. 
Distressed beyond recovery. 'Twas my brother;  
Whose eye no sooner found me, but his looks  
Expressed a troubled soul: but when he heard  
My tongue deny myself; what passions then  
Possessed him, may be thought.  Cice. 
Is he your Brother?  
Fear not to be discovered: I have plots  
To circumvent him, and prepare his temper  
For mild impressions. Enter Tapster.  
Prithee Friend show us a private room.  Tapst. 
With convenience Mistress.  Cice. 
For a retirement.  Tapst. 
This way Mistress. I smell the reward of a knave's office: howsoever sin thrives by wickedness. Frothfilled Cans and over-reckonings will hardly raise a stock to set up with. Now will I inform the Gallants. Exit.   

The fourth scene.  GEORGE and WIFE. Wife. 
Pray sir, forbear. Is this a place to make one's husband a Cuckold in?  Geor. 
Let not such weak excuses rob my hopes  
Of that delight, for whose enjoying  
Danger and all that weakness can be frighted with—  Wife. 
Pray sir, talk not to me of weakness. The servants of the house will suspect us presently.  Geo. 
Be expeditious then, we lose that time  
Might make the pleasure fruitful.  Wife. 
Indeed sir I durst e'en venture to make him cuckold, might I be sure you would get a boy.  Geo. 
That's doubtless, sweet.  Wife. 
And shall he be like the father?  Geo. 
As ever Citizens son was.  Wife. 
I mean my husband.  Geo. 
I am a Courtier.  Wife. 
Kind sir, you even deserve it for your policy. But I am so afraid.  Geo. 
Mischief on these delays.  Within. 
Sweetheart, Wife.  Wife. 
Ay me.  Geo. 
Vexation racks me.  
Prevented at the point of such a happiness!  Within. 
Come Chuck and hold my head.  Wife. 
Pray sir, hide yourself:  Geo. 
Where?  Wife. 
Happily, here's an empty tub. To them Stitch.  Stitch. 
My head aches Wife; where art chicken?  Wife. 
Here husband. You must press upon women's retirement.  Stitch. 
Oh my stomach; 'tis very sick.  Wife. 
Empty it in the fields then; let not the servants take notice you are such a sloven.  Stitch. 
Why not in that rub?  Wife. 
Fie beast: defile a necessary implement of housewifry? This 'tis to drink healths to Cuckolds. You might have been one yourself, were not I the honester woman; which is more than many of your neighbours can say for themselves.   

The fifth scene.  To them Frank, CHANGELOVE, JAMES, SAM, and a little after them a wench with a pail of water. Change. 
where's Mr. Stitchwell? Fie, give out man, and steal away.  Stit. 
Oh gentlemen my head, my head; oh gentlemen.  Frank. 
methinks your forehead's swollen sir.  Wife. 
Truly no sir. There's no more than what hath been ever since I was his wife; fifteen years and upwards, a long time of barrenness.  Wench. 
What the Devil make all these gentlemen in my dame's washhouse? Get ye up to your chambers with a vengeance.  Powres the water into the tub. Frank. 
I wonder where my friend is.  Geo. 
Hold, hold; I am drowned.  Fran. 
George, what made you there?  Wench. 
Mischief on you sir: you have spoilt me a pail of conduit water cost me many a weary step the fetching; beside the falls my sweetheart Slip gave me.  Stitch. 
Alas good gentleman; he hid himself from my Wife, and see what's happened.  Geo. 
Hell take your wife and you. Accursed women,  
That in your curse made Man so.  Fran. 
Fie George, scold presently after your cucking.  Sam. 
Diogenes in dolio.  Chang. 
And lamentation.  Fra. 
Come forth George: now the Comedy is ended, away with the disguise.  Geor. 
Women or devils,  
Made fair to be destruction's instrument.  Fran. 
You seem to compassionate the mischance:  Stit. 
Good heart: but that he cannot endure a woman,  
She should kiss him for amends.  Wife. 
I think it would grieve any woman. I came hither for something else then to be railed at.  Stit. 
Let's vex him no more Gentlemen. Come wife,  
He go sleep a little. Exeunt.  Chan. 
There will be a safe opportunity for me. I love this Cuckold-making.  Geo. 
Frank, though yourself intend a reformation,  
You might forbear me: this was your own plot.  Fran. 
Why mine? I ne'er had resolution yet  
So stayed, but I could alter it for pleasure:  
Nor can I hate or envy it in others.  
I am sorry George you should drink water after your sweetmeats. To them Tapster.  Geo. 
Do not abuse me lest I think revenge:  
I am almost tempted to attempt it.  Tapst. 
The Gentlewoman hath withdrawn herself.  Iam. 
What Gentlewoman?  Tapst. 
she in the satin gown. You know my meaning sir, she's as right—  Iam. 
Thanks honest Robin. Here's for thee.  Tapst. 
I must thank you sir.  Iam. 
I'll take the first opportunity.  Tapst. 
The gentlewoman is retired sir.  Iam. 
What gentlewoman?  Tapst. 
You know my meaning. she's as right—  Sam. 
Pox on your Pandarising.  Tapst. 
How now sir? I wonder what quantity of maiden modesty went to your making up. Few gentlemen of your complexion would have been angry with an honest Tapster for such intelligence.  Sam. 
My Sister turned a common prostitute?  
I must discover it.  Tapst. 
The gentlewoman's gone into another chamber Sir.  Fran. 
What gentlewoman?  Tapst. 
she in the satin gown. There's a bed: you know my meaning. she's as right—  Fran. 
You are a rogue sirrah. kicks him.  Tapst. 
Good sir, what mean you?  Fran. 
Mutter that thought again: I'll cut thy tongue out.  Tap. 
And kill anon, anon sir. But cold rewards. Had none any better; Panders would never purchase. Exit.  Geo. 
I'll take the tapster's word, and try.  Fran. 
Come gentlemen, let's up again. By this time George your sorrow's dry. Exeunt.   

The sixth scene.  Enter WORTHGOOD, KEEPER, and SLIP. Keep. 
And why should you think so Slip?  Slip. 
If I find them not, count me no wiser than an Apothecary, that looked for jews ears on an old Pillory; When the dead wood bore none but Scriveners.  Keep. 
inquire diligently, sirrah.  Sl. 
I will sir, and arm myself like a country juror: I cannot hold out too fast till I have given up my verdict. Exit.  Worth. 
My patience Sir hath hitherto made fair  
The outside and appearance of that good  
Your promise seemed to mean me. Circumstance  
Doth now instruct my fear, that this credulity  
May be my danger. Treachery oft lurks  
In compliments. Y'have sent so many posts  
Of undertakings, they outride performance.  
And make me think your fair pretences aim  
At some intended ill; which my prevention  
Must strive t'avert. Then good sir, leave me.  Keep. 
Sir, though my outside's mean; I have a soul  
Instructed in all dues belong to man.  
I never yet misused a common action  
With a prepared dissembling. My intents  
Are fairer than your jealousy, which lives  
But in the darkness of your ignorance.  
'Tis a blind humour, let discretion guide it:  
That th'end of your own good be not perverted  
By ill receiving of the hopeful means  
My freeness offers.  Worth. 
You have heard my story;  
But why it should so stir compassion  
In any stranger, counsel cannot well  
Remove the doubt.  Keep. 
Why Sir, I know a gentleman  
Worthy in all things; but his crosser fortune  
(On which mine had dependence as a servant)  
robbed him at once of all those gifts she lent him;  
Estate, life, wife; his infant-Issue left  
To her blind pity. Can I think you then,  
Without some feeling, hear the sad relation  
Of a misfortune, is so like to that,  
As if the self same inauspicious stars To them Slip.  
Were both their means. The news sirrah.  Slip. 
Very bad Sir. My incredulous hostess will not trust: therefore pray sir make haste; for without some supply of drink I faint in the half way of my message.  Keep. 
Hast found them?  Slip. 
there's hopes or so: I heard an inkling. The house swarms with gallants; some of which have surely taken up Cicely, paltry Baggage, she plays the Lady at least, and makes mincing faces like a country Bride at the upper end of the table.  Kee. 
Pray Sir let's in: we may perhaps find them here.  Worth. 
O fate, unless thy guiding kinder prove,  
Despair kills all my hope, and ends my love. Exeunt.  Slip. 
Oh Cakes and Ale, if you your sweets deny,  
Let Slip despairing in a halter die.    

Act. 4.  

Scoen. 1.  Enter hostess, CICELEY, bellamy. Hostess. 
Fear not Mistress any of their attempts in my house: you have your instructions and my aid. Make use of any thing I own for your honest ends, and if you need my person, I am ready in my bar at your call. Exit.  Cice. 
We thank you Mistress.  
Why should you fear the execution  
Of my desires? why are women subject  
To that disease? or else hath nature chose it  
To show the difference? I was meant a man sure;  
For I have Masculine resolutions,  
Which no deluding spirits can abuse  
With their misguiding; nor imperfect moonlight  
Mock with false shadows. Danger frights not me.  Bella. 
Doubt of my loved friends safety (without whom  
My soul's abilities are dead to use)  
Hath numbed the sense of action: I'm all passive.  
Yet I have heard from him relations  
Of horrid battles, and his person's danger;  
whenas the murdering Canons choked the air  
With their curled mists, their loud noise ushering death  
To his black triumph. A little custom made it  
To be my pastime. Those were dangers passed;  
But these to come.  Cice. 
You have a soldier sweetheart,  
And no more courage! what a race of Cowards  
Would spring from that love's joining? for Physicians  
Say women have most right in the conception.  
Were but our causes changed (our cases are)  
I'd tell this brother all; and if his love  
From a pretence of care denied me aid,  
I'd school him soundly. Come, come, you shall, tell  
Your Brother that I love him.  Bella. 
Love my Brother?  Cice. 
Your Brother Mistress. If my beauty can  
(Which has been flattered for a taking one)  
Win upon his desires, I'll soon work him  
To what you please. Nay, rather than the project  
Should fail of a success, he shall enjoy me;  
But fairly.  Bella. 
Aid me now discretion. Would you  
Make mean agent to undo my Brother;  
And but for such mean ends?  Cice. 
Why gentlewoman,  
Disparage not my low condition.  
Perhaps misfortune meant it not my birth;  
That might be noble as your own, though boasted  
From th'herald's Catalogue of dead Ancestors.  
My father oft hath told me when my fingers  
Pressed the cow's dugs, and from their fullness drew  
Abundance of white streams, that Nature meant not  
These limbs for labour. But this may appear  
The flattery of myself.  Bella. 
Into what maze  
My dangers lead me! i'th' middle there's a Monster,  
If I go on, will ruin me: if back;  
I want an Ariadnean Clue of policy  
To be my guide.  Cice. 
If you'll preserve yourself  
From a discovery, you must counterfeit  
Some other passions; or clothe these in mirth.   

The second scene.  
To them JAMES, presently after GEORGE.  
How now maid? why left you the door open?  Iam. 
'Tis shut again sweet Mistress. If it offend you, I will buy my pardon at your own rate.  Cice. 
What would you have sir?  Iam. 
A little pleasure Sweet. Come, come, what's your price?  Cice. 
You sure mistake me sir.  Iam. 
As if I had not practised wenching sufficiently to understand a dissembled modesty: because I am a stranger, I'll come to your lodging when I know where 'tis. But say your price? half a crown?  Cice. 
Have I found you gallant? I am dearer Sir; that's my Maid's rate. The truth is I have my Maidenhead yet, and have bargained with a gentleman below for it.  Iam. 
Let me have it; I'll double his reward.  Cice. 
I love to be as good as my word. Sure sir he'd kill you if he knew of your attempt. That's he sir. Knock.  Iam. 
And my young valour dare not encounter him.  Cice. 
Your city-born coward never make's fortunate whoremaster.  Iam. 
Would I were safe.  Cice. 
Best hide yourself in this sir.  Iam. 
A handsome convenience. When he's gone, release me.  Cice. 
Fear it not sir, but be sure you lie still. Open the door maid; and do you hear? get the key of the trunk.  Bella. 
What may this come to?  Geo. 
Pardon me fair one. My intrusion tends  
To beg a happiness; please you to crown it  
With your consent and welcome?  Cice. 
What's in me  
To grant, you shall command.  Geo. 
I take your word.  
The pleasure of your bed. I will reward it  
With a new gown and angels; dally not  
In any coy denial.  Cice. 
Not in this place.  
But if you please— whisper.  Bella. 
New jealousy instructs.  
My fear this woman's nought, and such a one  
As sells herself to sin. What fates conspire  
To make me miserable?  Geo. 
'Tis a motion  
Suits with my liking. The pains will make the pleasure  
More sweet in the enjoying.   

The third scene.  To them Frank. Fran. 
Courting her!  
George, 'tis not friendly.  Geo. 
Mischief on suspicion.  
I've given you all the flattering commendations  
That might confirm her love.  Fran. 
No more; I thank thee.  Geo. 
I leave ye. Now to my practice of revenge,  
And the delight it comprehends within it  
Above Elysium. Exit.  Fran. 
dear, when shall my love  
Be happy in enjoying what it makes  
The object of desire? Shall this fair morning  
Be consecrate to Hymen?  Cice. 
Worthy Sir,  
Such is the difference twixt your birth and fortune,  
And my condition (whose inferior aim  
Dare not be leveled higher than its equality)  
Makes (coward's policy,) fear, to be th'excuse  
Of my delay. For were you satisfied  
With that which you call pleasure; and satiety  
Had ta'en the edge off, what's in me can whet  
New appetite, and revive a dying love?  
Your estimation branded with the infamy  
Of a base choice: taunts from the mouth of envy:  
Aspersions to beget a killing jealousy.  
And when you shall reflect—  Fran. 
Prithee no more  
These needless doubts. I'm armed with preparations  
For my resolves, that no assault can bitter.  Cice. 
Pardon me sir; there's ground of circumstance  
To build a faith on, that your desires end  
Is my enjoying for your senses pleasure.  
Not the converse which love instructs the soul in.  Fra. 
Why should false fears make such a bad construction?  
Prithee no more.  Cice. 
But I must search you throughly.  
Y'are noble sir; and now I will unmask  
This false complexion of an hypocrite,  
Which hitherto deluded your opinion  
But with a show of virtue. The truth is  
My inclination's wanton; and this day  
I meant to make a sale of that, for which  
You have so fairly bid: my Maidenhead.  
You see I'm fitted for it.  Fran. 
What do I hear?  Cice. 
The gentleman that left me, is the Merchant.  
A price is likewise set upon the ware.  
The time and place of interchange appointed.  
The means: a porter in that trunk must carry me  
Unto his chamber: You seem troubled Sir  
At the relation.  Fran. 
'Tis to try me sure:  
She cannot mean it. How my thoughts rebel  
Against their guide?  Cice. 
Troth sir, I must confess  
Your person likes me better, and the love  
You have professed deserves my gratitude.  
Meet you this porter, and compel him with you;  
You shall enjoy me first, and afterwards  
When I set up the trade be still more welcome.  Fran. 
Should this be earnest. it would make me happy  
Above mine own desire; and should she mock me,  
'Twere but returning to my first intents.  
Some way I must enjoy her. Shall this practice  
Give me those sweets have been so long denied  
With counterfeited modesty?  Cice. 
Be sure sir;  
My Tutor in the Art left me instructions  
To take the fairest offer.  Fra 
My reward  
Shall treble his. Be constant to my pleasure,  
I'll keep thee like a wife; and serve thy will  
With full content.  Cice. 
That as your liking pleaseth.  
When you are weary, I'll but beg your bounty  
For a new wardrobe to set up with.  Fran. 
How man's desire  
Pursues contentment! 'tis the soul of action,  
And the propounded reason of our life.  
Yet as the choice appears, or gross or excellent,  
We fly not from th'enjoying; but are changed  
In our opinion either of the object,  
Or of the means that works it. Why should I  
Alter a resolution? The contentment  
Is still the same: and a far easier means  
Without that tie necessitates the will  
To a sixth bounds. Besides, my credit's safe.  
To keep a Mistress youth's excuse may serve;  
But an inferior match brands my posterity,  
If equal blood commix not. Hence then scruple,  
And all that frights saint conscience. sweet I welcome  
The freeness of your kind and loving promise  
With as much joy, as can possess a heart  
Made jovial by th'effect of all its wishes:  
Be constant to it.  Cice. 
Be you confident;  
I cannot be diverted from my purpose:  
The end's too pleasant, Pray prepare yourself;  
The time draws on.  Fran. 
And till my expectation  
Ends in that full possession of delight,  
Times wings are clipped. So farewell sweet till then. Exit.  Cice. 
And farewell base desires. May thy soul lust  
Make thee still credulous, till abuse and shame  
Teach thee amendment. What an Orator  
Is Sin? that paints itself with golden words  
Of pleasure and delight; as if the soul  
Had its eternal being and full powers  
But for the senses satisfaction:  
And their enjoying it creation's end.  
Now to our Comedy. Ha! fast asleep!  
This fits our purpose. Lock it fast.  Bella. 
Will not the feathers choke him?  Cice. 
he's armed against mischances. Give it the Porter,  
I must withdraw. Exit.  Bella. 
Now I perceive  
Goodness guides all her actions: her mind's brightness  
Outshines her outward beauty. But what use  
Can my misfortune make of't? yes; th'example  
Shall teach me how to counterfeit, if I  
Can force my passion to it.   

The fourth scene.  
To her GEORGE, TAPSTER, PORTER.  
here's the Gentleman.  Geo. 
Now wench, is all ready?  Bella. 
I have packed her up in't, like a bartholomew-baby in a box. I warrant you for hurting her.  Geo. 
'Tis a good wench. I'll give thee a new gown for it.  Bella. 
I thank you sir. When you are weary of my mistress, and cast her off (as I know you must have change) you shall have my maidenhead at the same rate if you please: I'll keep it for you.  Geo. 
'Tis a bargain.  Bella. 
But two words to it. Pray sir use her ne'er the worse for my promise.  Geo. 
The better. I'll turn her off within this fortnight, and send for thee.  Bella. 
Oh sir, 'tis not fit a servant should shift her Mistress trencher before the bones are clean picked. You have flesh enough to hold out a month.  Geo. 
It shall be a month then?  Tapst. 
Be careful Porter of your carriage.  Port. 
Married? that I am to a freeman's widow, and I wear the city-arms by her first husband's copy.  Geo. 
The Porter is deaf sure.  Bella. 
Pray sir let me ask you one question.  Geo. 
Quickly then.  Bella. 
How many maidenheads have you bought thus?  Geo. 
Some nineteen with thy mistresses.  Bella. 
Pray sir, let mine make up the score: an even reckoning.  Geo. 
It shall, it shall: here's for thee Robin.  Tapst. 
The trunk is worth more sir, besides the feathers that are in it. But to do you a pleasure.  Geo. 
Help him down stairs with it.  Tapst. 
here's a Tottenham-court project translated over the water from Holland.  Geo. 
Farewell wench. Exeunt.  Bella. 
adieu good sir, with your fair bedfellow that must be.  
Had I my Worthgood here, this accident  
Would strain my heart strings to a pitch of laughter,  
And make my spleen dance. But his loss hath killed  
All sense of joy. Ciceley returns.  Cice. 
Now Mistress, what think you of it?  
Have I not ta'en a course to punish lust?  
At least wise with disgrace. Though custom calls  
Those actions only honest, that are glorious  
In public same; yet sometimes to dissemble  
An ill that's not intended, when the end  
Hath cleared it to opinion, it attains  
The greater praise.  Bella. 
Indeed, I must confess  
My fears possessed me strongly you were 'nough:  
Nor is suspicion grounded on due circumstance  
To be accounted ill. But now my knowledge  
Instructs me better to commend your virtue;  
And steer mine own course by the fair example  
Of your discretion, were the like attempted  
Upon my chastity.   

The fifth scene.  
To them, SAM.  
Alas, my Brother.  Sam. 
Now must I practise unaccustomed impudence. By your leave gentle creatures: may I have my turn now for a little sport! Nay, nay, sweetheart, thou shalt serve: thy Mistress is too dear; and I am loath to pay overmuch for repentance. 'Tis but changing offices: let her hold the door for thee.  Cice. 
Pray sir, speak and mean civilly; you'll not be welcome else.  Sam. 
Good Lady Light-heel; give your servant leave to practise the trade you have taught her. That such perfections as appear in this woman should be sold to every base desire. Come wench, thy brown complexion pleaseth me better than thy mistresses: thou dost not paint, and art the likelier to be wholesome.  Cice. 
Good gentleman, he is jealous, and would circumvent her.  Sam. 
here's half a crown wench; methinks 'tis a fair rate. Ha! singer in the eye? Keep thy tears for penance in Bride well. Cry when money's offered thee?  Bella. 
Oh Brother.  Sam. 
Ha! are you my Sister?  Bella. 
Your Sister bellamy.  Sam. 
Why she's in the Country at mine uncles,  
Teaching her hand some neat industrious practice;  
Or painting with her needle the rare form  
Of some choice flower; to her busy servant  
Discoursing Morals; or perhaps at prayers,  
Or meditation: these were her exercises;  
Not prostitution. What an impudence  
Is this imposture?  Bella. 
Temper your anger brother,  
For it appears i'th' wrinkles of your brow.  
And let not passion burn your jealous fears  
With an intemperate heat. I have a story  
You'll pity, though all natural affection  
Were quite extinguished.  Sam. 
Then you are my Sister?  Bella. 
Dissemble not those doubts; but hear me.  Sam. 
Noah.  
I'm deaf to all excuse. 'Tis too apparent.  
Possess me virtuous rage; make me the instrument  
Of a religious justice.  Bella. 
Guard me innocence.  Sam. 
Oh that the knowing soul, which can distinguish  
itself and powers; should yield her government  
To the lascivious appetite of sense:  
And under such a base subjection  
Ruin her noble parts. True estimation  
Is grounded on the actions of the mind:  
And to determine bravely, well as honestly,  
Must be the last, and most refined digestion  
Of a high flying nature. Such should hers be.  
She wanted not th'instruction, nor example  
Of worthy Parents, that honour is the most  
Essential part of life, and valued 'bove it.  Cice. 
Good gentleman, he's troubled.  Sam. 
Oh hypocrisy,  
Thy painted shows must likewise mock our judgements  
Into an apt credulity, that makes  
Bad worse by the dissembling. Had she wanted  
Or means of power or fortune to discover  
This inclination; like the Serpent numbed  
With a long rigidness, forbears to sting  
His warmer's bosom, not because he hath not  
A poison; but because the force thereof  
Is feebled by the cold.  Cice. 
You seem disturbed sir.  Sam. 
who'll ever trust devotion, or believe  
That any zeal is earnest? I should rather  
Have called an Eremite hypocrite: or suspected  
Th'austerities of an Anchorite to be  
But for vainglory or a common fame,  
Than her appearing goodness. Fury prompts me  
To a black act. 'Tis well I have no sword.  
But may she not survive her first repentance;  
Which shame or punishment shall teach her quickly.  
Lustful insatiate whore. Could not a husband  
Have cooled your blood?  Bella. 
You need no other weapon, she sownes.  
Those words have killed me.  Cice. 
Ay me, what have you done sir? help, help.  Sam. 
If it be earnest, cured a wounded fame.  
My reputation would have bled a little,  
Had she lived longer infamous: her death  
May lose the memory of her dishonour.  Cice. 
Good gentlewoman she faints. Help, help.   

The sixth scene.  To them KEEPER, SLIP, WORTHGOOD. Keep. 
The cry came from this Chamber.  Slip. 
'Sfoot sir, 'tis Mistress Cicely, and Cicely Mistress. Ha, ha, sir; did you put her to the squeak? I'll put you—  Keep. 
Hold sirrah.  Wort. 
Look up my love: ha! What malicious chance  
Begets this new prevention of our happiness?  
Oh let our souls together climb the height  
Of their eternity; if fate denies  
Other enjoying.  Bella. 
'Tis my Worthgood's voice.  
That Orphean Music charms my senses back  
From the dark shades of their privation.  
Welcome again: I never more will lose thee.  Sam. 
What are you sir, that seem thus tender of her?  Worth. 
I give no answer to uncivil questions  
With calmer words. And yet I scorn to strike,  
Unless I saw some armour for resistance.  Bella. 
This is my Husband Brother, far as vows  
Can join us, till Church-ceremony hath  
Confirmed it stronger.  Worth. 
He your Brother sweet?  
His pardon first; then leave I may embrace  
His worthy love.  Sam. 
'Tis not your compliment  
Can win upon me. If your worth deserves  
My sister's love (I hope my Uncle's care  
Hath well examined it) freely enjoy  
What you desire: But my opinion is  
Scarce settled yet. You seem a Gentleman.  Worth. 
And am one: that was given me in my birth.  
If not, my sword hath purchased it.  Cice. 
With leave  
I would relate the accident to satisfy  
Your curious love; which makes you doubt that ill  
ne'er stained a thought in her: and for myself,  
My life's untouched by envy.  Keep. 
Gentle sir,  
Let my persuasion work upon your temper;  
And make it pliable to forgo all jealousy,  
And misconstruction. Something is reserved  
In mine own knowledge, shall disperse those clouds  
That muffle error in their misty rolls;  
And makes it blind in all things but in mischief.  Sam. 
If bellamy be virtuous, she's my Sister;  
And shall not lose that interest.  Keep. 
Now Cicely,  
'Tis time that you disrobe.  Cice. 
By no means father.  
My part's not ended yet.  Bella. 
Please her accept  
Th'exchange as my thanks gift; since to her care  
And full discretion I must attribute  
My safety. Something's now in action,  
By her begun from an ingenious practice,  
Will make the end more comic.  Cice. 
But 'twill turn  
To a sad Tragedy, if I enjoy not  
This worthy gentleman.  Keep. 
A larger room  
Were more convenient. Please you sir the house  
Is well accommodated.  Worth. 
What's more to be expected  
Can cross or crown our loves with new events? Exe.  Slip. 
Go your ways and quarrel no more, lest I be stickler with this terrible Emblem of a butcher's cruelty. Exit.   

The seventh scene.  Enter CHANGELOVE, WIFE; STITCHWELI in a Chair asleep. Wife. 
The effects of drinking, Mr. Changelove: his head should be troubled with something else, were he ruled by me. But he cares not for my counsel, nor me. I could e'en curse mine own kindness, that am ready still to make more of him than he doth of me.  Chang. 
Why do you not then—  Wife. 
What sir? I warrant you mean make him a Cuckold.  Chan. 
That's a gross construction. Give a friend leave to do you a pleasure, or so. The truth is Mistress I love you.  Wife. 
You were ever kind Mr. Changelove.  Chang. 
And would your freeness give me leave t'enjoy  
Those sweets, although forbidden, 'twould be a happiness  
'Bove my desire. Be assured my secrecy  
Is firm as night and locks.  Wif. 
Secrecy, Mr. Changelove? I would have you know I will be open to all the world. I'll do no more in the dark, then in this very place, were my husband's eyes open.  Chan. 
Here then. He sleeps securely, never dreaming Of any foreheads arming.  Wife. 
Fie Mr. Changelove, you are such a tempter. Pray set hear many a woman would not hold out so long.  Chang. 
Consent then sweet; we'll to it.  Stitch. 
Ware horns there.  Chan. 
Mischief, what noise hath waked him?  Wife. 
An infirmity he hath to talk in's sleep. Nay I assure you he will rise sometimes and do the office of a waking man in his dream, and not know of it in the Morning.  Stitch. 
Rome for one of the headmen in his Parish: a monster of his wife's making.  Wife. 
Wicked man; he dreams now that I would make him a Cuckold.  Change. 
Send it be no counterfeit.  Stitch. 
And have I ta'en you sir Lancelot? would you be billing with my Guinever?  pulls Changelove by the ears. Chang. 
Help me Mistress Stitchwell.  Wife. 
Take it patiently Sir: his fit will be over presently.  Stit. 
For this attempt King Arthur doth here degrade thee from a Knight of his round Table, to be a Squire of his wife's body. So conduct me to her bed; where I will beget a race of warriors shall cage thy great Turkship again, and restore Constantinople to the Emperor.  Chan. 
You mistake: oh. My Periwig is not a turban.  Stit. 
Peace follows victory, let us now to rest.  Wife. 
Pray sir, forgive him: I dare undertake he'll be sorry for it when he wakes. If any thing I can may make amends.  Chan. 
Prove his dream true. When the smart's over I shall forget it. Enter Tapster.  Tap. 
A quest of inquiry is sent all the house over to look you Mistress. The gentlewoman's maid was in a swoon: they wanted your assistance.  Stit. 
Who wants assistance? who breaks the king's peace? fetch me my Constable's staff.  Chan. 
he'll dream again: had I best stay?  Wife. 
Now drunkard, are you recovered yet?  Stit. 
Wife and Mr. Changelove, where's the company?  Wife. 
Gone, being weary of such a sot as you make yourself. Pretend a walk for health and recreation, to be drunk so early? I had done well to have served you in your kind: here were gentlemen enough that would have brought me home; and some not far off that used me kindly, whilst you snorted to fright fleas, and dreamt perhaps some wickedness of me.  Stit. 
Prithee peace sweet wife: I'll mend all.  Wife. 
I promise you, you shall never mend me, till you do better yourself.  Stit. 
I'll buy my pardon for it with a new gown, and a journey into the Country next vacation.  Wife. 
You know john I am easy to be wrought upon.  Tap. 
Will you discharge the reckoning Mr. Changelove?  Chang. 
Not willingly: I do not love it. No revenge upon this dreaming tyrant over unpaid for gallantry? A protection to defraud him is long since provided. What is your reckoning, Robin?  Tap. 
Nine and threepence sir.  Chang. 
The particulars.  Tapst. 
Cakes two shillings. Ale as much. A quart of mortified Claret eight pence. stewed prunes twelve pence.  Change. 
They were dear.  Tap. 
Truly, they cost a penny the pound of the one-handed Costermonger, out of his wife's fish-basket. A quart of Cream, twelvepence.  Chang. 
That's too excessive.  Tapst. 
Not if you consider how many carrier's eggs miscarried in the making of it; and the charge of icing-glass and other ingredients to cremify the sour milk.  Chang. 
All this is but a Noble.  Tap. 
Pray mark me sir, I'll make it more. Twelvepence Sugar. You had bread sir.  Stit. 
And we had drink sir.  Tap. 
'Tis granted sir. A pound of sausages, and other things, nine shillings and threepence. Our Bar never errs.  Chang. 
I'll talk with your Mistress. You know my meaning Robin. steals away.  Wife. 
Oh the extortion of Tottenham-Court!  Stit. 
No matter Wife: kind Mr. Changelove will pay for all. Ha! where is he?  Tap. 
Gone Sir.  Stit. 
Then give me my Cloak.  Tap. 
The reckoning first Sir.  Stit. 
How! must Tailors pay Gallants reckonings?  Wife. 
Sure husband, he intends this a satisfaction for his beating.  Stit. 
Have you such tricks? No great matter: 'tis but adding it to his bill in my debt-book, and presently arresting him with a fat Martialist. Here sirrah.  Tap. 
Y'are welcome Sir. Some profit comes from hence:  
I have o'er-reckoned one and twenty-pence. Exeunt.    

Act. 5.  

Scoen. 1.  Enter GEORGE and PORTER with the Trunk, presently after them uNCLE, SERVANT and TENANTS. Porter. 
A Heavy burden I assure you Sir.  Geor. 
That's strange: a light Wench, and feathers.  Por. 
You say true Sir; 'tis enough to break a man's back.  Geor. 
His mistake hits upon truth. Rest thee Porter.  
Oh this plots quaintness: witty luxury,  
How it acutes invention, and makes pregnant  
Even barren faculties to beget new issues  
Of rare conceit. But my credulity  
Was rash and sudden. If she hath abused it,  
And mocked my hopes of pleasure, what revenge  
Can give me satisfaction? Here's the key,  
Though late these doubts arise, I greatly long  
To have mine eye resolve them. Company,  
Forbear a little then, and rest thee Porter.  Vnc. 
'Tis a fair circumstance, and may confirm  
My first suspicion. Where found you the Horses?  Serv. 
In the high way near yonder houses. The place is called Tottenham-court.  1 Neig. 
Our intelligence hath something Landlord.  Vnc. 
What's That?  1 Neig. 
The truth is being weary—  2 Neig. 
Old men Landlord, old men. Labour agrees worse with us then wrangling with a lean Parson that hath a fat Benefice.  Vnc. 
Pray 'interrupt him not: Forwards Neighbour.  1 Neig. 
At a house yonder we prevailed to be let in: where the little time that remained till morning we slept soundly.  2 Neig. 
And dreamed we were in Cranborne Church at a drowsy Sermon.  Vnc. 
On good Neighbour.  1 Neig. 
Day no sooner peeped, but noise waked us. The house was presently full of Gallants with Music, and to dancing they went. We asked the reason, they of the house told us 'twas customary for Gentlemen to have early revels and rendezvous there. At length we heard one speak of a Gentlewoman in a satin gown: which we conceiving to be Mistress bellamy, made haste to London to your Son to inform your worship.  Vnc. 
Oh my cursed fate; they have prevented sure.  
My care, by zeal and nature so instructed  
To tender her good, that I have not left  
Counsel or threats unurged to perfect it.  
They are questionless married.  2 Neig. 
Might I advise your worship then let them alone till night: when they are in bed together, they are the likelier to be catched napping.  Vnc. 
My Nephew's gone abroad too. Is't the custom  
Of Students that pretend a love to Learning  
And noble Sciences, to make the morning  
Their time of recreation? Or have they  
Had correspondence, and his friendly aid  
Is in the plot! Yond Porter may perhaps  
Inform us something.  Geor. 
If these question the Porter, I must answer for him.  Vnc. 
Good speed friend. Didst see a Gentleman and a Gentlewoman abroad in the Fields?  Por. 
Betwixt nine and ten.  Ser. 
He means the clock: his hearing is surely imperfect.  
Didst see a Gentlewoman in a satin gown?  Port. 
Indeed 'tis a heavy burden: I fetched it from Tottenham-court.  Vnc. 
Didst see a Gentlewoman?  Port. 
A Gentlewoman in a Trunk of Feathers! that were very pretty.  Geor. 
Oh villain.  Seru. 
A Gentlewoman at Tottenham-court!  Geor. 
I saw many there Sir, and one in satin: but they are all upon parting.  Vnc. 
I thank you Sir. Come let's hasten. Exeunt.  Geor. 
What may this be! It hath begot new jealousies.   

The second scene.  
To them Frank.  
And here's new mischief. Hath the Devil policy  
To prevent ill? There's no avoiding him.  Fran. 
'Tis he: h'hath spied me; and his fears deject him.  
Sweet constancy, how I could blame the good  
Thy kindness means me, that hadst rather lose  
Thine own white purity, then stain my credit  
With spots time cannot wash out. Doubly happy  
Shall I be in enjoying her, and punishing  
A treacherous friend.  
George, how long have you conversed with the Frock-trade?  
I thought the smock had been your chief delight.  Geor. 
The Porter waits upon me.  Fran. 
With stuffing for your bed.  Geor. 
A light commodity I bought at Tottenham-court. Didst ever think I should have been so thrifty to buy feathers at the best hand? When I have used them throughly, there are Suburb Upholsters will give me my money again.  Fran. 
methinks they are very heavy.  Geor. 
Let them alone.  Fran. 
Have not you stolen mine Hosts great brass Pot she boiled old marrowbones in, for the fat to make her Cakes with when Butter is scarce? Porter you shall carry it along with me.  Geor. 
Prithee go back to thy milk Maid.  Fran. 
Dost thou deride me? Nay then Porter up with it, or here's a goud to force you, and let out some of your goat's blood.  Geor. 
Thou dar'st not strike a friend basely.  Fran. 
Friendship is cancelled.  
thoust broke the league that knit over our outward love:  
For in consent of ill Love's never solid.  
Hadst not abused that love with foul intents:  
I would have thanked thy pains, which she contrived  
only for me t'enjoy her.  Geor. 
Is't even so!  
You shall hear from me Frank. Come hither Porter,  
She hath legs to walk with you.  Fran. 
But that I think disgrace a punishment  
Worthy the guilt, this instant hour should give  
The wrongs thou didst intend a satisfaction.  
I must be bold sweet: mine are no Porters shoulders.  
A Coach waits not far off.   

The third scene.  
To them CHANGELOVE, Stitchwell, WIFE.  
Lie still a little, here's company.  Geor. 
Let me ruminate.  Stit. 
I paid the reckoning Mr Changelove, and am sorry for it, I mean the wrong I did you.  Chan. 
'Twas no offence: or had it; you have satisfied.  
I love the memory of it. 'Twill be a Story  
To greet a ring of friends with: next I meet  
Shall have it all.  Wife. 
It may pass indeed for a merry one by a good fire in Winter, which I love dearly.  Chan. 
A good fire Mistress Stitchwell is Winter's artificial Sun, that renews Summer within doors. I love it.  Wife. 
With two or three good companions, and a gossip's feast.  Chan. 
That's very right. Society is the use  
Of man's best ornaments. Speech and discourse  
Are reasons messengers, that carry errands  
From one soul to another. I confess  
I love good company.  Stit. 
'Tis a good exercise to rise in a frosty morning, and kill Birds.  Chan. 
You say well Sir, We that have youthful blood,  
That capers in our veins, and swells their concaves  
With active warmth, should be enured to hardness.  
'tis healthful, and I love it.  Geor. 
I have it. Do you know these Frank?  Fran. 
Mischief, I must prevent them.  Geor. 
You may if please you, suffer the Porter to pass, and stay yourself. Credit is precious: let me enjoy my sport, yours may be preserved. Otherwise your trull and you shall both suffer. I am desperately resolute, and will reveal all.  Fran. 
And I as desperate. Up with it Porter.  Port. 
Any thing: will you suffer this Gentleman?  Geor. 
Nay then Frank. Draw▪ and a pass or two.  Port. 
Help help.  Iam. 
If he be gone sweet heart, let me out. I am almost stifled. They take him out of the Trunk.  Fran. 
Whence that voice?  Short. 
The Gentlemen that were in our company! Let us prevent them. Be not afraid Wife.  Wife. 
Alas I cannot endure such naked weapons.  Chan. 
What will this come to?  Iam. 
I beseech ye Gentlemen kill me not, I have been sufficiently mortified; and I believe you may smell, the effects of my fear.  Geor. 
Is this the lovely piece, for whose enjoying  
I have attempted what by ill success  
Makes me ridiculous: yet I swell with laughter  
To think how finely she hath gulled us both,  
And mocked our easy trust.  Fran. 
Pray Sir how came you hither?  Iam. 
I think upon that Porter's shoulders.  Fran. 
But how into this Trunk?  Iam. 
I'll tell you sir. Bargaining for a little sport with the Gentlewoman, whom I thought to be a wanton, she possessed me with scare, (to which cowardice is always apt, and I must acknowledge in myself) that a Gentleman (one of you two I take it) had dealt with her for her Maidenhead, and that she expected him. He came: and I fearing lust as well as love would brook no rival, made use of this for my safety. Where being heavy headed with Ale, I have slept till your noise waked me.  Stit. 
An excellent conceit; how like you it Wife? This Gentleman cannot endure the company of Women.  Wife. 
I knew before he did but dissemble: that made me so desirous to try him. There was a Tub at Tottenham; you I now the success of it.  Chan. 
I ever thought Mistress Stitchwell that was your own plot; and I love you dearly for it.  Wife. 
Love me Mr Changelove? Take heed my Husband do not dream of it.  Chan. 
That was her plot too. Now do I see, some Women can counterfeit wickedness, as well as many dissemble honesty. Come Sir, let you and I drown the memory of our disasters in a cup of Sack. Exeunt.  Wife. 
You see gallants what success attends your enterprises.  
Henceforth account not every City Wife  
Wanton, that only loves a merry life.  Stit. 
And here's a double comfort; being wedded,  
she's neither false, nor am I jealous headed. Exeunt.  Fran. 
Accurst credulity. Could not those doubts  
I shaped my jealousy, preserve my first,  
And noble resolution I Had I urged it  
With greater zeal, she must have forced her reason  
To understand m'intention without practice  
Of farther trial. Now she's lost for ever;  
Though I should with submission and repentance  
Beg reconciliation with her thoughts,  
(Whose purity cannot endure to mix  
With mine that were so foul) she would reject it.  
I'll back, and try. Lustful affections hence.  
My love's new clothed in virtuous innocence. Exit.  Ge. 
Frank We are friends: since we have shared disgrace,  
We kill all malice. Henceforth I shall strive  
To live more chaste. Lust is a gilded pill,  
Which sinful nature doth prescribe desire.  
It mocks the sense with pleasure; but at last  
The shining outside leaves a bitter taste. Exit.   

The fourth scene.  Enter SAM and SLIP. Sam. 
But prithee tell me, what's her condition?  Slip. 
Womanish. She'll cry when she's angry; laugh when she's tickled, and be sick when she cannot have her own will.  Sam. 
I mean her calling.  Slip. 
She is called Sicily.  Sam. 
Her profession then.  Slip. 
Not very honest, and yet very honest. She cheats all the world that thinks she is wanton: but you may find by the late stories, that neither your Ants nor Cousins can keep their legs so close.  Sam. 
Here's money for thee.  Slip. 
You are as bountiful as a new made Knight, that courts a City Widow by Attorney for the officers fees.  Sam. 
Prithee tell me how was she borne?  Slip 
You had b●d ask the Midwife.  Sam. 
This fellow trifles. Is the Keeper thy Master her own Father?  Slip 
Should you conjure the Devil into her dead Mother, he might chance to tell you flye.  Sam. 
Is she a Gentlewoman or not?  Slip. 
She is, and she is not. She is a Gentlewoman as she loves pride: which makes Gentlewomen apt to fall; especially those of the waiting form. Then she is no Gentlewoman because— because—  Sam. 
Prithee no more.  Slip. 
'Tis well you interrupted me, for I had no reason: But Sir I will bring her to the bar of your presence, where she may answer for herself, whilst I convert your bounty into wholesome nourishment from a black Pot, and have a bout with mine own sweet Turnip.  Sam. 
Mine eye ne'er saw with aptness to desire  
That beauty could enthrall m'unbounded thoughts  
With passionate affection. Yet this piece  
Is absolute, and such as cannot choose  
But have a glorious mind. Love is a cement  
That joins not earthly parts above, but works  
Upon th'eternal substance, making one  
Of two agreeing souls. Were she borne nobly,  
(As surely such perfections cannot be  
The issue of base parents) so that infamy  
Might not succeed, here would I fix my choice.  
Besides she's virtuous, and her education  
Beseeming greatness: her discourse; pure language;  
judgement, and full behaviour argue it.   

The fifth scene.  
To him, CICELEY.  
she's come. How like an Angel, as if sent  
On some celestial message to the soul  
Of a departing Saint. White innocence  
Is in each look and feature, as all goodness  
Had built their mansion in her. Welcome fair one,  
I hope my pardon's sealed for thus presuming  
On what you might call rudeness.  Cice. 
You have shaped  
Needless apology to excuse a guilt,  
When none appears. I owe much to your virtue  
It doth command my thoughts.  Sam. 
Which are so glorious,  
I must admire the actions that express them.  
I hope your judgement doth not call it ill,  
That my intemperate anger being grounded  
On virtuous suspicion, did transport me  
Beyond a moderate passion. I am satisfied.  
Your innocence hath cleared my jealousy;  
Which was I know instruction to my sister,  
And th'only working means that kept her safe.  
The Gentleman she loves I find is worthy:  
Though his estate through the improvidence  
Of a free minded Father, low enough.  
My Uncle may repair it: she hath hopes  
T'inherit all. And trust me did I love  
Where I perceived desert, no inequality  
Of fortune's blind additions, birth or state,  
Should interpose a let to my enjoying.  Cice. 
Sir, 'tis a noble resolution,  
Pure love's a virtue Nature only teacheth;  
And's borne with generous Spirits that distinguish  
The object truly; slighting those respects  
That work on grosser minds.  Sam. 
How she instructs me  
In resolution? Fairest I shall use  
None other circumstance, or paint a passion  
My reason's eye allows: though first my sense  
Conveyed the knowledge of your outward form,  
And full perfections, which must needs contain  
A richer inside. Virtue seldom dwells  
But in a glorious frame. I love your goodness:  
For that your beauty. In my new born wishes  
I have determined you the partner  
Of all that's mine. My state's not very mean:  
If 'twere, zeal should supply; I'd strive to merit  
The free gift of yourself, and in exchange  
Return myself.  Cice. 
Sir, I could answer you  
With your own words: for I presume your thoughts  
Are noble like yourself; unmixed with flattery,  
Courtships infection; and the poisonous breath  
That many times doth make pure love suspected  
Whether it be found or plastered to deceive  
Our credulous weakness, till it hath possessed us  
With some foul leprosy. Your handmaid yields  
To what agrees with honour; if the meanness  
Of her condition may presume to call  
Her honest credit so.  Sam. 
How you do bless me  
As suddenly as my desires could shape  
A means to work it? Instantly the Church  
Shall seal the bargain.  Cice. 
Would not you deliberate  
Those acts are lasting, and concern the being  
Of all your after life?  Sam. 
'Tis heaven's providence  
That hath disposed it. Thus I seal my vows   

The sixth scene.  To them uNCLE and TENANTS. Cice. 
And here are witnesses.  Sam. 
My Uncle! what makes he here? new doubts arise.  Vnc. 
See, see; my thoughts were prophecy: both here.  Sam. 
You are welcome to Tottenham Court Uncle.  Vnc. 
But you're ill come x. I had thought.  
Your judgement had been stronger than to aid  
A foolish Sister with your fond indulgence  
In her undoing. She may hide her face  
My rage distracts me, and I know not how  
To frame th'induction.  1. Neigh. 
Why sir, this is not Mistress bellamy but another in her clothes.  Vnc. 
How's that knave? hay day wife how came you by these? where  Cice. 
I am your Niece.  Vnc. 
You my Niece?  Sam. 
she's my Wife, Uncle.  Vnc. 
Yet more plots I sure the Parson of 〈◊〉 has been here.  1. Ten. 
Indeed I have heard he is a notable joiner.  2. Ten. 
And Tottenham-court Ale pays him store of tithe.  
It causeth questionless much unlawful coupling.  Vnc. 
Pray where's your Sister? I'll not fright her  
With many threats, but mildly work her reason  
To understand her errors; and prevent  
Her ruin with dissuasions. Coss she's lost:  
My love and care made useless.  Sam. 
Is she married Sir?  Vnc. 
Yea; that's my greatest fear, she's past recovery,  
Woman, whate'er you are, you have some hand in't:  
These were her clothes.  To them WORTHGOOD, bellamy KEEPER. Cice. 
Let herself satisfy,  
if passion hath not made you too uncapable.  Bella. 
Alas mine Uncle.  Vnc. 
Killing spectacle.  
Come from his arms: if any force restrain thee  
But thine own freeness (which I most do fear)  
I will reveng't with law's extremity.  
Come from his arms I say.  Bella. 
Uncle I owe  
You many duties. One from nature's precepts;  
And moral gratitude for your great love  
Instructs me in another: but necessity  
In this compels a virtuous disobedience.  Vnc. 
Girl he's a beggar. He had a prodigal father  
That spent all ere he died: his whole estate  
Depends but on the love of a rich Uncle;  
And that's incertain.  Wort. 
Pray upbraid me not  
With a dead man's misfortune. I have been  
A soldier, and perhaps am apt to anger.  Vnc. 
Threaten your fill Sir, so my Niece forsake you.  Sam. 
Kind Uncle, call not poverty a sin.  
Wealth's but the gloss and outside of desert.  
And for my Sister, since she loves this Gentleman,  
She hath some portion left her; your estate  
Would be a fair addition: but the loves  
Of uncles are uncertain. The truth is,  
I love this maid: she's but this keeper's daughter;  
Yet I would marry her, please her good Father  
To be consenting.  Keep. 
Blessings unexpected.  
If she be willing. she's a poor girl Sir.  Sam. 
she's richer than the Indies.  Vnc. 
Shall mine age  
Be cursed to this misfortune. I'll build hospitals:  
Where wooden legs and lazy hypocrites  
Shall be mine heirs.  2 Ten. 
And the Devil your Executor.  Vnc. 
They scorn my easiness.  
I should have raged, and from a furious an  
Sent threats, not calm entreaties.  Keep. 
That would likewise  
Have been as useless. I conceive such joy  
At these events, they almost have confounded  
My preparations to begin the Story  
Reserved to crown all. First do you embrace  
A natural Sister.  Wort. 
Mine own Sister, sir,  
Supposed to have died an infant!  Cice. 
I still thought it  
By an instinct.  Keep. 
This is Cicilia Worthgood,  
Whom my Wife nursed when both your Parents died.  
I have been careful of her education  
Well as her person; though my love concealed  
The knowledge of herself still from herself.  
lest I should lose her: being th'only comfort  
I wished from providence: Such was the duty  
With which I honoured your dead Ancestors  
That brought me up.  Vnc. 
Sir, this concerns not me.  Keep. 
It doth your Nephew, to whose loves embrace  
I next commend her, and a portion too.  
She shall inherit something that hath been  
Stored from my care; nor hath her industry  
Wanted a share.  Cice. 
Still let me call you Father;  
Whose love deserves it for my preservation,  
And after being.  Wort. 
What a knot of fortunes  
Is here untied. Oh let me wear you ever  
Upon my heart with these. Enter Servant hastily.  
Mine Uncle's servant! What new accident?  Ser. 
Oh Sir, never was endeavour so tired. But I am glad I have found you. Your uncle's dead, and hath made you his heir.  Vnc. 
Ha, ha! is't come about! nay then; are you married niece? if not, about it presently whilst 'tis morning. Thou shalt be mine heir likewise: love him; lie with him; Get boys, and any thing now; you have my consent.  To them Frank. Bella. 
And now I owe you duty.  Frank. 
With what impudence  
Shall I apparel my prepared excuse,  
To make it pass? What mean so many people?  
I am returned to chide your cruel practice,  
That mocked my virtue into wicked frailty,  
And an abused belief. I am your convert;  
And come with more than sorrow, satisfaction.  
Let not the memory of my past errors  
Pervert your thoughts into a worse opinion  
Of my reclaiming, then if ill intents  
Had ne'er expressed themselves.  Wort. 
What means that Gentleman?  Bella. 
he's one of those that— whisper.  Cice. 
If you'll have my Maidenhead,  
A husband's leave is light.  Sam. 
As your Commodity:  
How did you like it Sir? Enter Host.  Fran. 
They will abuse me  
Into a madness. Farewell virtuous Maid,  
And bless his bed deserves thee. Here I banish  
All after-thoughts of Women; but t'admire  
The goodness makes them perfect; since such were  
Added to be man's only comfort here. Exit.  Keep. 
Most opportunely Widow. I have solicited long; and if you will now consent, let's bear these company.  Host. 
With all my heart.  Kee. 
Why then to Pancras: each with his loved consort  
And make it Holiday at Tottenham-court.     

The epilogue by the hostess.  
Again y'are welcome. There's no more to pay.  
But your kind liking. Tapster take away  
If you deny't, as due for such mean Cheer;  
And say your first paid reckoning was too dear,  
I beg it as a bounty. If I win  
Your kind commends, 'twill bring more custom in:  
When others filled Rooms with neglect disdain ye  
My little House (with thanks) shall entertain ye.  
And if such Guests would daily make it shine.  
Our POET should no more drink Ale but Wine.  
the end.