THE VOW BREAKER. OR, THE FAIR maid of Clifton.  
In Notinghamshire as it hath been diverse times Acted by several Companies with great applause.  
By WILLIAM SAMPSON.  Virg: Aen: lib: 2. 77. Obstupui, steterantque Comae, & vox fausibus haesit. 
LONDON. Printed by JOHN NORTON and are to be sold by ROGER BALL at the sign of the Golden Anchor in the Strand, near Temple-bar, 1636.   

The Illustration.  
THis faithless woman, by her friend's consent  
Plighted her troth to Bateman! straight not content  
With his revenue! Coveting for more  
She marries German for his wealthy store  
There Parents jarred, and never could agree  
Till both of them were drowned in misery.  
Young Bateman hangs himself, for love of her:  
She drowns herself (guilt plays the murderer.)  
His Ghost affrights her, sad thoughts do her annoy  
(Alive or dead: 'tis she, he must enjoy.)  
The Moral is maids' should beware in choice,  
And where they cannot love, divert their voice.  
parent's must not be rash, nor too unkind,  
And not for wealth to thwart, their Children's mind.  
All is not gained, that's got, (ill purchased wealth,  
Never brought comfort, tranquil, peace, and health.)  
This precedent, this principle doth allow  
Weddings are made in Heaven, though sealed below.   


Think on thy promise alive or dead I must and will enjoy thee.  
he's come watch me or I am gone.  
O how happy had I been if she had lived.  
O how happy had I been if he had lived.    

TO THE WORSHIPFUL and most virtuous Gentlewoman Mistress Anne Willoughby Daughter of the Right Worshipful, and ever to be Honoured Henry Willoughby of Risley, in the County of Derby Baronet.  
Worthiest, and Noble Mistress,  
THIS infant received breath, and being under your noble Father's roof (my ever honoured Master) and therefore as an air-lover belonging to that Hospitable Fahricke, it properly prostrates itself to you for a patroness. The title of it saith ignorant Censurers (those critical Momes that have no language but satiric Calumny) sounds gross, and ignare, expressing small wit, and less judgement, in the Author to dedicate (A vow-breaker) under the protection of A Lady, of your Candour, beauty, goodness, and virtues: against those foul mouthed detractors, who as much as in their venomous hearts lay; sought to vilify an unblanched lawn, a vestal purity, a truth like Innocence, a temple of sanctity, the Altar of real goodness, against those brainless Momes, I comply myself with Pliny's natural simile of the Almond-tree: pick of the Rind, crack the shell, yet set the kernel upright in earth, and by nature's help it regains maturity and growth: so have your noble virtues, even with the Diamond eclipsed darkness, and from obscurity gained greater lustre even then when the two eldest sons of sin Envy, and Malice sought to obscure them: but she that hath not left the earth, divine Astrea, sacred justice, the eye, and soul of the law, hath vindicated those foul mouthed detractors: as you are great in goodness, so shine there still, and let the Sun-raies of your virtues ever yield honoured hatchments, & portments, to your most noble father, & his honoured families, of whom you are a principal Column: continue ever in that noble pedigree of virtues, which your virgin purity hitherto hath justly maintained, heaven keep you from fawning parasites, and busy gossips, and send you a Husband, and a good one, else may you never make a Holiday for Hymen, as much happiness as tongue can speak, pen write, heart think, or thoughts imagine, ever attend on you, your noble father, and all his families, to whom I ever rest, as my bounden duty,  
A faithful servant, WILLIAM SAMPSON.   

The Prologue to Censurers.  
TRuth says the Author, this Time will be bold  
To tell a Story, truer ne'er was told.  
Wherein he boldly vouches all is true  
That this Time's spoke by us, or heard by you.  
If Chronicle, that ever yet gained favour  
May please true judgements: his true endeavour  
From serious hours his gained it: for us  
He hopes our labours will be prosperous.  
And yet methinks I hear some Critic say  
That they are much abused in this our Play.  
Their Magistracy laughed at! as if now  
What ninety years since died, afresh did grow:  
To those we answer, that ere they were borne,  
The story that we glance at, then was worn  
And held authentic: and the men we name  
Grounded in honour's Prowess, virtue's Fame.  
Bring not the Author then, in your mislikes,  
If on the age's vice, quaintly he strikes  
And hits your guilt! most plainly it appears  
He like a tailor that hath lost his shears  
Amongst his shreds. he knocks upon the board,  
And by the sound themselves they do afford.  
If in his scenes, he any vice have hit  
To you far better known then to his wit,  
take't to yourselves alone: for him, his pen  
Strikes at the vices, and not minds the men.   


Actus Primus Scena Prima.  Enter young Bateman meeting Anne. 
ANNE, My Bateman.  Y. Ba. 
My sweetest Nan?  An. 
Had I but one entire affected Pearl  
Inestimable unto vulgar censure  
And is there none to play the Thief but thou!  
Oh misery wouldst have thy love entranced,  
Without an echo that would sigh farewell.  
Common courtesy 'mongst rural Hinds  
With this formality disciplines them  
(Kiss at the departure), and you to steal away  
Without my Privity?  Y. Ba. 
Pray thee no more?  
Tears are the Heralds to future sorrows,  
I have collected all that's man together  
And wrestled with affections as with streams,  
And as they strive that do oppress the billows  
So do I fare in each external part.  
My Acts are like the motional gimmals  
Fixed in a watch, who wind themselves away  
Without cessation; here if I stay, I find  
I must be where thou art! which when I am  
Thy father's rage increases like a flame  
Fed by ungentle blasts! my absence  
May work those bitter sweetings from his heart  
And smooth the rising furrows in his brow.  
It is sufficient that I know thee firm  
Fixed as a Rock in constancy, and love,  
Able to shipwreck greatness, and despiseth  
A violated heart, as a disease.  
I go to Leith as children go to school  
Studying what shall please my Mistress best,  
My lesson con, I will return again  
And dedicate my labours unto thee.  An. 
Sweet do not go; and yet if that you will  
Leaving me here like a forsaken Lover,  
Prithee forget me not; nay be not angry  
Soldiers in War make any saint their own  
Forgetting those they are devoted too!  
'tis I have vowed to have thee quick or dead,  
Flattering honours, nor dissembling beauties  
Works me not from thee.  Y. Bat. 
Swear not sweet Nan!  
The book of fate, as now may be unclasped  
And record what thou speak'st.  An. 
Be it writ in brass  
My love shall be as durable as that!  
Now by this kiss, nay I will second that,  
When I this hand bequeath to any one  
But my sweet Bateman; then may I ever  
From heaven, and goodness resta castaway,  
If e'er I give this hand, to any one  
But my sweet Bateman.  Y. Bat. 
Thy constancy I resalute.  
Death only separates me from thy love.  
Alive or dead I shall enjoy thee then  
Spite of thy father's frowns.  Enter Ursula. Vrs. 
Why then up-with your bag; and baggage, and to Saint Mary's presently the Priest stays, the clerk whines to say Amen! and for th'official scholars love buttered loaves, an Angel will persuade him to consent, we that live by the sins of the people may dispense with venial toys.  Y. Bat. 
Thou art merry still.  Vrs. 
Faith, and shallbe as long as I keep me out of Cupid's manacles, dost hear Lover? take her now thou hast her i'th' vain trust not we wenches, theirs as much truth in us, as in Knights o'th' post; if she swear love today, she'll unswear it tomorrow with a safe conscience; stand not shall I shall I, take me her to have, and to hold, and if either of you repent your bargain within a twelvemonth—  An. 
What then!  Vrs. 
Then you shall fetch no Bacon at Dunmowe; we young wenches in our loves are like lapwings, if once we creep out o'th' shells, we run from out old loves like Scopperils, women's minds are planetary, and amble as fast as Virginals jacks, if you stop 'em not in true time, you mar all your music. See here's your Fathers.  Enter old Boot old Bateman. Y. Ba. 
Alas what wilt thou do.  An. 
Not shrink a jot for thee.  Bo. 
I charge thee on my blessing leave that boy.  An. 
Father! sir.  Bo. 
Come, come, come.  
Must your appetite be married to beggary  
Is this the only Phoenix of the World?  O. Ba. 
Boot, boot, boot, thou art malapert, false, proud,  
A wretched miscreant, and dissembler,  
H' shall enjoy her, she's his lawful wife  
Thy hand enstated hers, though falsely now  
Thou playst the counterfeit.  Vrs. 
Well said old cock, would thy spurs were new rowelled that thou mightst pick out his eyes.  Bo. 
Still are your eyes gadding that way, know this  
I'll sooner marry thee unto some slave  
Whom mine own will can subordinate  
Rather than to him.  Y. Ba. 
Is virtue grown to so absurd a rate  
It gains no better credit with base worldlings.  O. Ba. 
Tell me Boot.  
Does not his birth, and breeding equal hers,  
Are not my revenues correspondent  
To equal thine; his purity of blood  
Runs in as sweet a stream, and natural heat  
As thine, or hers; his exterior parts  
May parallel hers, or any others  
In a true harmony of lawful love.  
Wast not thine own motion, didst not give way,  
And intercourse to their privacies?  
Didst thou not make me draw conveyances  
Did not th'assurance of thy Lands seem probal,  
Boot, Boot thou shall not carry it thus  
I'll make thee know theirs justice to be had  
If thou deniest it.  Bo. 
Say I grant all this!  
With myself having deliberated  
I do not like 'th'assurance of thy Lands  
Thy titles are so bangled with thy debts,  
Which thou wouldst have my daughter's portion pay.  
Sir sir, it shall not!  O. Ba. 
hang thee hang thee miser!  
'tis thy base thoughts forges these false conceits,  
And but for thy daughter, I'd, I'd, I'd.  Bo. 
I'd come, come.  An. 
Father?  Y. Ba. 
Dear sir spare your fury?  
Anger in old men is a Lunacy  
That wounds the speakers, not the spectators?  
My thoughts are now embarked to go for Leith  
And see the Wars, I hope ere my return  
I shall find temperate weather in your looks,  
And all these storms vanished.  O. Ba. 
Art thou so built on her fidelity  
Take heed boy; women by kind are fickle,  
Absence in lovers brings strange events  
Lovers that hourly kiss find due regard  
But those that absent are oft loose reward.  
I doubt not of her firmness, but 'tis common  
An absent lover thrives not with a woman.  
'tis good counsel boy, and worth observance  
But thou dar'st trust her.  Y. Ba. 
With my life sir.  O. Ba. 
Go on then in thy entended purpose  
Noble sir Jarvis whose man thou art,  
I know will furnish thee.  Bo. 
This works to my design, and gives free way  
For wealthy German to my daughter's love.  
Come hither Nan.  Vrs. 
I thought the wind was in that door; by my virginity a young wench were better be heir to a swineherd's chines, than a rich man's bags! we must be coupled in wedlock like your Barbary horse, and Spanish jennet, for breed sake, house to house, and land to land, the devil a jot of love? poor simple virginity, that used to be our best Dowry is now grown as bare as a servingman's cloak that has not had a good nap this seven years.  Enter Clifton, and a Shoemaker. O. Ba. 
Well Boot time may make us friends.  Bo. 
we'll think on't Bateman!  Clif. 
How many pair of shoes knave ha.  Sho. 
By Saint Hugh sir Jarvis four thousand pair.  Clif. 
For every knave two pair good sauce against kibed heels by my halidom; well shod, and clad will make'em fight like men! the North is could, subject to frosts, and snows, and 'tis bad fighting without victual, and cloth! for which I have provided well for both; forty horse loads, and twenty cars of victual, 'twill stop a good breach in a soldier's belly! my man shall pay thee huffit; my halidom! my old Neighbour rich Boot, and Bateman, is this brabbling matter ended yet! shall he have her, by my halidom not yet, the knave shall serve his Queen first, see the wars, where 'twill do him good to see knocks pass as fillips, say is't done?  Enter Miles. O. Ba. 
he's at your service.  Clif. 
By my halidom he shall not want for that  
But I am tardy, and my time is precious  
My halidom, where's this knave?  Mi. 
Faith sir trading as other knaves do! sir yonder's the Tailor the Weaver, and I the Miller.  Clif. 
My halidom knaves all three! put me a Tailor, a Weaver, and a Miller into a bag.  Mi. 
And what then sir?  Clif. 
Why he that first comes out will be a knave.  Mi. 
Under correction sir put me a Justice of peace, an Official, an under sheriff into a bag.  Enter Ball joshua. Clif. 
And what then knave?  Mi. 
Why, and they will not come out, let 'em tarry their like knaves as they are.  Cilf. 
What a knave is this.  Mi. 
Sir here's two more appears! th'one is mad Ball old Huffus' man, th'other may be a knave in grain for any thing I know i'm sure he's much given to colours he's a Painter-stainer.  Clif. 
Y'are both pressed, and willing to serve the Queen.  Bal. 
I am bend leather, and will endure it.  Iosh. 
My name is Marmaduke joshua a Painter-stainer by Art, and a limner by profession? I am given to the means, and do fructify among the brethren, it were obnoxious, and inutiable, and contrary to the sages to press me.  Clif. 
we'll see how you can edify our Camp.  Iosh. 
For the sistren commiserate.  Clif. 
Come my old neighbours, let our Drum beat a free march we'll have a health to Queen Bess, cry St. George, and a fig for St. Dennis.  Enter Omnes nisi Bateman, Anne. Mi. 
Mistress Ursula, 'tis not unknown that I have loved you; if I die, it shall be for your sake, and it shall be valiantly; I leave an handkercher with you, 'tis wrought with blue coventry; let me not at my return fall to my old song, she had a clout of mine sow de with blue coventry, and so hang myself at your infidelity; desiring Jove to bless you from better fortunes I leave you.  Exeunt. Vrs. 
The fool dotes, but 'tis no matter, 'tis no matter, 'tis Lady like why should not I have my Monkey to play withal?  Y. Ba. 
Prithee leave us.  Vrs. 
Heavens bless me out of your company, for fools I found you, and so I must leave you in spite of my heart.  Exit. Y. Ba. 
Now Nan here's none but thou, and I; thy love  
Emboldens me to speak, and cheerfully  
Here is a piece of gold, 'tis but a little one  
Yet big enough to tie, and seal a knot  
A jugal knot on Earth, to which high heaven  
Now cries Amen, say thou so too, and then  
When either of us breaks this sacred bond  
Let us be made strange spectacles to the world  
To heaven, and earth.  An. 
Amen say I.  
And let heaven loathe me when I falsify.  Y. Ba. 
Thou now art like a polished ivory Table  
In pureness without; or stain or blemish.  
If thou shouldst soil this whiteness with black deeds  
Think what a monster thou wouldst make thyself.  
I doubt thee not, but give this cautionary.  
Hark the Drum beats, from the arms of love  
I now must burnish in the Arms of war, adieu.  An. 
When I prove false to thee; oh may I then  
Beheld the scorn of heaven, earth, and men.  Enter severally. Grey, Arguile, Cross, Soldiers, drum, Colours. 
As far as my Commission Arguile  
I have proceeded, we in the trade of war  
Whose Mart consists in blows, and batteries,  
Are like small Rivers that must keep their bounds,  
Till the Queen Ocean command them rise.  
Dunbar can witness where we skirmished last  
I require the hostages be delivered  
Twixt England, and the federary Lords.  Arg. 
Peruse this bead-roll from Duke Chattenreault  
Wherein their names are, their persons attend  
At Inskeith, and with willingness are bound  
To attend the mighty Queen of England.  Grey. 
Lord Claud. Hambleton fourth son of the Duke, Robert Douglas brother to the Lord James Stuart! Archibald Douglas Lord of Loughennell George Gram second son to the Earl of Menteich; James Coningham son to the Earl of Glencorne; all Hostages to the Queen of England till the Articles be performed betwixt her, and the Federary Lords. Herald of Arms conduct these noble pledges from the Red Brays to Inskeith, see'em delivered to James Croft, and George Howard Knights from thence to be embarked for England.  Cro. 
I shall my Lord.  Gr. 
What number speak your powers  Ar. 
Two thousand hardy Scots,  
With glaved blades, bum daggers, and white Kerchers,  
Such as will fight, and face the fiery French.  Gr. 
Our numbers then are eight thousand  
And still we look for more, sir Francis Leake,  
And gentle Sir, Jarvis; two spirits  
That in peace are lambs, in war two ravening lions.  A march, Enter Clifton, Soldiers. Clif. 
A soldier's wishes bless my noble General.  Gr. 
Thanks valiant Clifton; they can deserve no less  
Coming from thee? I see you emulate  
That we should take the glory to ourselves,  
I'll give the first Alarm, you'll be one.  Clif. 
I by my halidom at war as at a feast  
I'll scramble for my part, and if I catch a knock  
That honour which a Soldier wins in wars  
Is of low price unless he bring home scars  Gr. 
What number sir Jarvis?  Clif. 
Five hundred, and fifty tall white coats,  
Fellows that will face a murdering Cannon,  
When it blows ranks into the Air as Chaff  
Yet dreadless they shall stand it, and not shrink,  
Right Nottinghamshire Lads.  Gr. 
'tis well done!  
Our bands are well divided, yours my Lord  
Keep the green Bulwark, mine the west Gate,  
You sir jarvis the water-ports to Inskeith.  
Pelham from Pelhamus Mount plays at the Town  
How now what Trumpets this?  A Trumpet, Enter Trumball. Trum. 
From the Queen Regent of Scotland I come  
To thee Lord General of the English Force.  
She craves a treaty with the Lords of England  
To know why thus they enter on her grounds,  
Depopulate her Countries, Plough her Plains  
If lawful cause she finds on interview  
She will subscribe to England, sue for peace,  
Otherwise by Article she'll confirm't;  
This is under her highness' hand, and seal.  
This is my message.  Gr. 
What's thy name?  Trum. 
Trumball, sergeant Trumpeter to her Grace.  Gr. 
Her Princely offer we accept rouge Cross  
Herald at Arms, command sir George Howard  
Sir James Crofts, and my son Arthur Grey  
To show her Grace my sovereign's grievances  
I'th' interim we'll sheathe our burnished blades  
Which had been died in scarlet long ere this.  
But for thy message.  Enter Trumball. Trum. 
I shall report you honourable.  Clif. 
My halidom I like not these signs of peace  
These French Flies work on advantages  
I'll not trust'em.  Gr. 
To prevent which each stand on his guard; your ears my Lord.  Ios. 
Resolve me; do they kill men i'th' wars, and ne'er give warning.  Mi. 
Not so much time Io! as a thief has at Nottingham Gallows.  Ios. 
Tyranny, tyranny; may a not pray insincerity nor request the brethren, and sisters to have care of a departing brother.  Mi. 
No Io! nothing but downright blows, just as you fell Oaks, or kill Oxen.  Ios. 
Most heathenish, and diabolical; and do the shoot Bullets.  Mi. 
I Io, as thick as hail a man may hit his own father.  Ios. 
Oh Infidels, and Barbarians; what will not the wicked do, kill men with bullets! oh these Guns, they are dangerous things they sprung from the whore, a friar was the inventor, and the smell of the Dragon! oh my poor puss-cat; sinful man thou art Io: to bring the poor puss forth to die by a Gun! a poor puss, silly harmless puss.  Mi. 
Tie her behind, then if thou run'st she may save thee.  Ios. 
I run! thou profane translater I scorn to run, my Car, and I will enter battle 'gainst the wicked! I run.  Gr. 
Why return so soon.  Enter Cross. Cros. 
This my Lord.  
Making for Edinburgh to the Queen,  
Nine hundred shot, and five hundred Corslets,  
Came forth of Leith, under the conduct  
Of Mortigue, and Doysells their Colonels.  
We wished them peaceably return to Leith  
Since contrary to all Laws of Arms  
They now had issued? Mortïgue replied  
They on their master's ground resolved stood  
And from their mistress would not budge a foot  
For any English breathing.  Exit Cross. Gr. 
Were not our promise given to the Queen  
On which they build advantages, I'd make  
These French Rats run as Wolves from fire,  
bid'em retire, and tell them thus from us  
we'll make them win their ground ere they stand on't.  
Nothing but circumvention in the French.  Clif. 
By my halidom jugglers, constant in nothing but Inconstancy, that's the French Merchandise.  Ios. 
And do they fight, as it is in the painted cloth, of the nine worthies, of joshua, Hector, Caesar, Arthur, Charlemagne, judas, Machabeus, and Godfrey Bulloyne.  Mil. 
Yes Io: they do.  Ios. 
In the painted cloth Joshua stands foremost  Bal. 
With his Cat in stead of a Scutcheon.  Ios. 
Ball thou art full of rebukes—  Enter Cross. Cros. 
Arm, arm, arm, regardless of true honour  
Your message is defied, and facing the van  
Discharged a thousand shot, the Crag, and Chapel  
They make a refuge 'gainst our great Artillery  Gr. 
Let the bowmen shout their slighted Arrows,  
As thick as hail, the Musketeers shall follow  
Alarum then; 'tis our first enterprise  
When cowards fall the valiant spirits rise.  Ex. Omnes. After skirmishes Enter Grey, Arguile, young Bateman with Colours, Clifton, soldiers, prisoners. Gray: 
The Crag, and chapel's ours, and the French  
Like Hares are leapt out of fierce Greyhounds gripes.  
Doysells, and Mortigue, outran their Colours,  
And with all expedition took the Town.  Y. Ba. 
Whose Colours I display.  Gr. 
How many of the French this day are fall'n?  Arg. 
Seven score my Lord, and prisoners of noble worth.  
Poiters, Augois, Bourbon, Shamoont, Shaldone,  
Labrosse, and of the English merely one man slain.  Gr. 
Thanks unto heaven whose arm was our defence,  
What's he that beats the French arms displayed?  Clif. 
A servant of mine, his name Bateman?  Gr. 
there's forty Angels for thy good day's service,  
And if thy merit retain an Ancients place.  Y. Ba. 
I thank your honour.  Ios. 
My prisoner is an Anabaptist, all I desire is that I may  
convert him,  Mi. 
It must be in's drink then, else he's none o'th' right  
brethren;  Gr. 
Can noble Arguile, and worthy Clifton  
After these, toils of blood, and massacre,  
Let's quench our raging motions in the Grape,  
And in the Frenchman's Vine drink his confusion?  
Proud France shall know that our Eliza's Name,  
Drives to confusion those that steal her Fame.  Ex. Omnes. Enter Anne, and Ursula. An. 
Dost thou not believe it?  Vrs. 
Let me fail of my best wishes, and I do, I cannot amuse my thoughts to't, thou mayst as soon persuade me that a spider's Web will catch a swarm of Bees as thou marry German! his head's like a Welshman's Crest on St. Davies day? he looks like a hoary Frost in December, now Venus bless me, I'd rather lie by a Statue?  An. 
Thou art pleasant still.  
In natural things we see that Herbs, and Plants  
In autumn ever do receive perfection,  
As they, so man, never attains his height  
Till in the autumn of his growing age  
Experience like a Mistress beautifies him,  
With silver hairs, badges of experience.  
Of wisdom, honours, counsel, knowledge, arts,  
With all th'endowments virtue hath in store.  
Contrarily green headed youth  
Being in the spring or summer of his age,  
Is prone to surfeits, riots, intemperancies,  
And all the stock of ills that vice is queen of;  Vrs. 
Thou wrists a good text to an ill sense? but none but fools would lie in beds of snow that might couch in Roses? but it may be cousin; but it may be coz? you follow the fashion of our Country Knights that marry your old London Widows; 'tis but keeping a handsome Chambermaid, they are necessary evils, and will serve with a small Dowry afterwards to make parsons' wives! you know my meaning coz.  An. 
He brings wealth, promotion, and 'tis the way.  Vrs. 
To your ruin; to your black father presently? cock him with the herb Moly that will put blood in's cheeks? let him be dieted like your Barbary horse? he'll near stand to his tacklings else? feed him with viper's flesh that will make his white head black? dost thou refuse youthful Bateman to lie with wealthy German, reject a Mine of virtue, for a Mountain of muck? Cupid bless thee, for I'll swear, he has blinded thee as blind as a Bat.  An. 
I loved young Bateman in my childish days,  
Have vowed to have him, and he again to me,  
But what of that, foolish lovers vows  
Like breath on steel, as soon are of, as on,  
German is wealthy and by him I gain  
Recourse amongst the modest sagest dames?  
Wealth has a privilege that beauty cannot,  
Bateman is young, embellished with a natural,  
Active, and generous, unspotted beauty,  
German is old, indebted much to age,  
Yet like old Aeson, gold can make him young,  
Gold like a second nature can elixate,  
Make the deformed fair, the fair seem foul,  
And we that love not, must be tide to th'face,  
A sparkling eye, or a smooth pleading tongue  
Will not keep hospitality with time.  
Maids that love young men gain their loves by stealth,  
We that love old men, wed not man but wealth?  Vrs. 
If I believe thee not; may I turn Nun before my probation? to be serious let me touch thy conscience? if young Bateman to whom I know thou'st vowed thy faith? should at thy falsehood fall into some malevolencies in himself, or on thee; 'twould grieve thee to have Ballads made on thee, to the tune of the inconstant Lover, and have thy perjuries pinned on every Post?  An. 
Conscience, pray no more o''nt?  Vrs. 
No introth for I think thou'st as much pleasure in't? as a hanged man has of his pardon, or a Dog with a Glass bottle at's tail? see here's thy father, with him the man that must be, not the foreman o'th' Parish, but a buck o'th' first head.  Enter Boot, German An. 
My lovely German?  Ger. 
My fairest Mistress?  Vrs. 
If I had not rather Kiss a muff made of Cats-skins, than these mouldy chops of his, wood I might die an Anchoress.  Bo. 
Now niece what's your conceit of this?  Vrs. 
Faith Uncle i'm a woman? and they say a woman is a weathercock for mine own part some are I think? and when I think they are not I'll tell you my conceit, till then I'll pay you with thinking.  Ger. 
Sweet beauty, rumor, that betters nothing,  
But disproportionates every act,  
Gives it out thus; that you are affianced  
To youthful Bateman? I wood not have the curse  
Of contract breaking fall upon my head,  
(If it be so, fairly I here acquit you,  
From all engagements 'twixt yourself, and me)  
If not, like to a blessing I embrace you.  
That jointure which your father most desired  
I have confirmed, nothing now remains,  
But your reply, or mine, or whose you please?  An. 
Sir I am yours?  
I loved young Bateman with an inward joy  
Affected him beyond a common rate,  
Yet not so far, but that I might reduce  
My vows, and my affections to my will,  
For when I saw how disproportionable  
Our jarring fathers were! I then began  
To alienate all love; here I renew  
To whom it comes as free, as bright, and pure  
As are these unstained Lamps beyond the Moon.  Ger. 
Which as a blessing from the heavens I take.  Bo. 
You shall be married instantly! and Girl thou shalt have one Bag more for this, it glads me yet, thou art so free from Bateman. I looked for other demonstrations! come German this night we'll feast, tomorrow thou shalt be wed, At night enfold a maiden in thy bed.  Vrs. 
Which if he does, may she die of the pip, and go to the grave as a Salad for the worms.  Exeunt Omnes.   


Actus secundus Scena Prima.  Enter Mortigue, Doysells, and the Frenchmen in Women's apparel with Pistols. Mor. 
Omit this Doisells,  
They now are healthing, and carousing deep.  
Now is our time to work a stratagem,  
Gaining these Trenches that oppress the town.  
Thus as we are, we pass without suspect,  
Nine Bona Robas nine stout Viragoes,  
Nine manly lasses which will stand the squeak;  
Jove went a wenching, as we go toth' wars;  
If this exploit take root, we build a strength  
That nine months' siege cannot again redeem.  Do. 
The scotch language I am perfect in:  
Encaule yourselves the enter on their guard  
Leroy's the word, till then let no man stir  
The second Leroy bids every man to kill.  
Close, and observe;  Enter Clifton, Bateman, joshua, Ball, Miles, Soldiers. Clif. 
Each man betake him to his instruments  
Keep safe this Port for 'tis the sole defence  
To our new Trenches, and raised Bulwarks;  
If any issue from the Town give fire,  
And the Alarum shallbe answered quick;  
The French are subtle, and in various shapes,  
Combine themselves, therefore to gain the best,  
Prevent the worst;  Ios. 
And they be women, may we not cease on'em for lawful prize.  Clif. 
To women, and children, be merciful,  
But trust none, the politic Fox sometimes  
wraps himself within the lion's skin,  
So working prey upon the innocent Lamb,  
These French are subtle Foxes.  Mi. 
I thought so for a man may smell their footings  
As far as a fitchers;  Ios. 
And they be Foxes we may smell'em out? for as it is in the painted cloth? by fortune came a Fox where grew a pleasant Vine I will no Grapes said the Fox, the fruit is none of mine.  Y. Ba. 
Sir have you dispatched me?  Clif. 
My halidom that's true?  
What sudden business of so main import  
Calls thee from the wars, where thou seest  
Resolved spirits rate their lives at nought  
Regardless of all miseries, for honours;  
Thou a proficient in wars Academ  
Hast profited well; the first day an Ancient  
In single duel taken? I tell thee Bateman  
It has won a great impression in my Lord.  
Resolve thee so; I would not have thee go  
To fish for shadows and let go the substance,  
Thou know'st my meaning Bateman.  Y. Ba. 
I construe it?  
That your suspicion deems it to be love,  
In sooth it needs not, such a constant rock  
My love is built on that it cannot fall.  
I cannot fasten jealousy in my thoughts,  
Knowing her loyalty; great excuses  
For my intended journey know I none:  
And to frame any were but negatives?  
Yet in my sleeps I have strange visions,  
Which waking I cannot thrust from memory.  
I do beseech your licence, let me go.  Clif. 
My letters want but sealing, follow me  
To the general's Tent.  Exeunt. Mi. 
Fellow Bateman farewell commend me to my old windmill at Rudington, oh the Mooter dish, the miller's thumb and the maid behind the Hopper? tell mistress Ursula I fight for her sake, and will live as long as I can die when I can no longer live, yet will love her in spite of her heart, in stead of nutmegs, and ginger, I send her the three bawbees I got at Dundee. I will fly on her at my return with the verses out of new Hero, and Leander, oh Ursula, Ursula pity me with a dildo, dildo, dillory?  Ba. 
Commend me to the Bells of S. Mary's, and tell'em my Chops water to chime all in?  Ios. 
As it is in the painted cloth, in morning still when thou dost rise see that in mind thou have to spend the day that doth ensue as bed might be thy Grave; commend me to my learned brother Spritchall the Cobbler of Nottingham brig? and bid him look up, and give me a coal, wishing him good health, as my cat, and I was at the making hereof?  Y. Ba. 
I will be mindful of you all farewell.  Mor. 
Now is the time make your appearance?  Mi. 
Shoot shoot.  Doy. 
An the bred an gad man spear the bonny lasses.  Ba. 
Down with the bonny Bells?  Ios. 
Have some compunction theyare the weaker Vessels for as it is in the painted cloth, be meek, and gentle, and thyself shall find a quiet conscience, and a tranquil mind.  Mi. 
Byth' mass a pretty boot hauling, handsome pages each one take one, and examine the prickers?  Ios. 
Thy counsels smells of piety? and thus I begin the conversion of a sinner!— umh— she Kisses well verily again I will edify on your lips— are you of the Family of Love sister— ha—  Mor. 
An the beans of me I'll a pure lurden?  Mi. 
And what are you pretty morsel.  Doy. 
An the deal an the crag I'll a Lards wife ganging to seek my Lourden;  M. 
And you are ganging to your Lurden, that your Lurden may catch you by the crag, and claw you are the weame, till your guts garr haggergath, haggergath.  Ios. 
will you be contented to leave the wicked, and live among the familists, exercising your body in the brether-hood's cause?  Mor. 
An the Lard nare thee with an my bare bones.  Ios. 
Kiss again then— in sincerity she Kisses open mouthed like a zealous sister—  Bal. 
And you can wash, and scour, and help to launder the camp, and dress the booties we steal, and at night be content to Kennel with me in straw.  Sol. 
I by Saint Andrew?  Ios. 
Let us congregate ourselves, and ponder on their miseries.  Doy. 
Now is the time each man draw, and fight.  Shoot, and Alarum. Alarms, the French beat of, place themselves on the Walls hanging out a head, Enter Clifton, Soldiers. Clif. 
Well fought my hearts: though we have lost one man  
Whose head they basely perch upon the Walls.  
Base minded Doysels cowardly Mortigue  
Though all advantages in war are lawful  
theyare not commendable? you came like yourselves  
Frenchified trulls, to scold us from our Trenches  
But not to beat us? come either of you single,  
And fight with Clifton, if not one, come both,  
And by my country's honour; no man here  
Shall dare to touch you but this arm of mine.  Doy. 
Vex not thyself old man, 'tis but one head  
We came for more, but rest sufficed with this.  Clif. 
And for that one a thousand dastard French  
Shall dearly pay, Count I shall meet thee?  Mor. 
Clifton thou mayst!  Clif. 
By my halidom; our meeting will seem rough our parting fair? make this thy quarrel, I pronounce thy Queen defective in beauty, virtues, honours, unto my mistress, England's royal Bess?  Mor. 
Traitor thou liest?  Clif. 
Have I stirred thy blood?  Mor. 
With such an overture, but thy barbarous head nothing can calm it?  Clif. 
When next we meet we'll try it?  
Each man unto his charge, for one man's head  
A thousand Frenchmen shall be slaughtered.  Ex. Omnes. Enter Ursula. Vrs. 
Good Wives, Widows, and young wenches, pardon me, for I am touched in conscience to rail on my own sex, I blame not those misogynists that say women are froward inconstant, and what not; I protest I begin to mistrust mine own thoughts, I'm quite out of love with all women's goodness? fie upon us weathercocks, of all things sublunary the worst of creatures, we painted sepulchers, rotten braveries, silly Ciphers until men's figures supply us, and yet we cannot render 'em a constant minute; all this is manifest in my new Bride, she that yesterday gave faith to one, the next day married another; and now married she's sick of the sullens, she wants youth to inflame, and give satiety a fresh appetite; fie upon us Moon Calves, and created Fools be those men that credits us I see i'm cut off.  Enter young Bateman. Y. Ba. 
I wear that visage formerly I did,  
Six Moons has not so metamorphosed me,  
But that I may be known? all my friends;  
My familiar sociates, and acquaintance  
Carelessly pass me with a heavy glance  
As if I were some rioter, or prodigal  
Who having ship wracked reputation  
After an act of bankrupt, compounds  
With debtor, and creditor; others  
Shake me byth' hand, but with such lenity  
As if I burned them? or that I from the wars  
Had brought home some diseases, as Killing  
As the Plague, or more infectious.  
My father whether for joy or sorrow,  
As tears be answerable to both passions,  
But he wept, cried welcome home, and sight,  
As if some drops of blood fell from his heart  
Heaven has a hand in all things; if that  
My Nan be well, we will dispense with griefs,  
Of lower kinds Kind, cozen Ursula.  Music. Vrs. 
Y'are welcome home sir.  Y. Ba. 
How fares my sweetest Nan?  Vrs. 
Sooth badly, she has been, Planet-struck e'er since you went? she fell into a Lethargy since noon, a kind of qualm came o'er her stomach like a Cramp or a Convulsion?  Y. Ba. 
The meaning of this Music?  Vrs. 
We had a Wedding today, and the young fry tickle trenchmore.  Jervis, and Nan are in the Window. Y. Ba. 
A Wedding, and here this day.  
Bless me what prodigious Object  
Is yond, that blasts mine eyes, and like a thief,  
Steals my understanding! certes 'tis she.  
Is it not speak Ursula?  Vrs. 
I know not, for had she as many bodies as hearts, she might be here, and yonder too.  Y. Ba. 
Now by my life.  Vrs. 
Nay swear not; if you have any ill language to spare I'll send my cousin to you presently.  Exeunt. Y. Ba. 
Strange fears assail my senses, and begins  
Conflicts of despairs, doubts, and fears,  
And but I have a resolution fixed  
On her fidelity; this frontispiece  
And other entertainments might confirm  
Former presages.  Enter Anne, Ursula. An. 
Who is't would speak with me?  Vrs. 
One that may be jealous though he wears no yellow.  Y. Ba. 
Her sight like to a cordial has expelled  
All former gross suggestions, methinks  
I taste my happiness ere I touch it.  An. 
Beshrew thy heart for this.  Vrs. 
Beshrew your own false, if their be ill 'tis of your own begetting I'll provide Cock-broths, and caudles for your old cock-sparrow.  Exeunt. Y. Ba. 
she's dumb with joy, and I like to a man  
Entranced with joys unutterable, cannot speak?  
But I have lost myself, I am awake,  
And see a substance more than dreamers do,  
Thus in the arms of love I do enfold thee.  An. 
I do not know you— touch me not?  Y. ba. 
I wonder then how I dare know myself,  
When thou forgettest me? I had thought  
Had I been sullied with the sooty moor,  
Or tanned with heat like some Egyptian slave,  
Or spotted like the Persian Leopards,  
Or in the worst form can be termed,  
Or imagined, yet thou couldst have known me,  
I am thy Bateman Nan!  An. 
If you be Bateman;  
'twere best you travelled from my father's ground  
lest he indite you?  Y. ba. 
If he should, yet if thou stand the judge  
I know thou wilt acquit me of the crime?  
But thou art pleasant, and like to a tender nurse  
Heightens my infant joys before it comes,  
Be not so strange, this nicety in you,  
Has not been usual.  An. 
It must be now for I am married.  Y. ba. 
I know thou art, to me my fairest Nan.  
Our vows were made to Heaven, and on Earth  
They must be ratified, in part they are  
By giving of a pledge, a piece of Gold.  
Which when we broke, jointly then we swore  
Alive or dead for to enjoy each other,  
And so we will spite of thy father's frowns.  An. 
You talk idly sir; these sparks of love  
That were 'twixt you, and I, are quite extinct  
Pacify yourself, you may speed better,  
You'll show much wit, and judgement if you do?  Y. ba. 
She flouts me.  An. 
If you will be wise, and live one year a bachelor 'tis ten to one that's odds, I bury my husband, ere I wear out my wedding Ring.  Y. ba. 
Ha! a Ring, and on the right finger two.  
Thou playst the cruel murderer of my joys  
And like the deadly bullet from a Gun,  
Thy meaning kills me, ere thy words gets vent.  
Whose Ring is that?  An. 
My Husbands.  Y. ba. 
And art thou married!  An. 
I am?  Y. ba. 
When?  An. 
This Day?  Y. ba. 
Accursed Day to whom?  An. 
To wealthy German?  Y. ba. 
To wealthy misery?  
Now my presaging visions do appear,  
Th'unusual gestures of my mournful friends  
I now perceive was thine; false woman  
As subtle in deceit as thy first grandam,  
She but deceived herself, deceiving man  
As thou her imp of subtlety has done.  
Strengthen me you ever Hallowed Powers,  
Guard me with patience that I may not curse,  
Because I loved her; be assured this,  
Alive or dead thy promise thou shall keep  
I must, and will enjoy thee?  An. 
And may I tell you if you'll stay my husband's Funeral.  
I'll promise you I'll mourn, and marry all in a month.  Y. ba. 
Ah monstrous; she plays with my disasters  
As boys with bubbles blown up into air,  
You that have care of innocents be my guard  
lest I commit some outrage on myself.  
For such an overture, and flood of woes  
surrounds me; that they almost drowned  
My understanding; thy perjuries shall be writ  
With pens of Diamonds upon Leaves of steel,  
And kept as statutes are to show the world.  
You constant Lovers that have truly loved  
Without foul thoughts or lustful appetites,  
Come wail with me, and when your swelling breasts  
Grows big with curses, come sit down, and sigh  
Such an inconstant faireon I have met  
Whose deeds I shame to nominate, yet she  
Shamed not to do them.  An. 
Pretty passion this ha, ha, ha?  Y. ba. 
Take thy good night of goodness; this night  
Thy bridal-night take leave of sacred virtue?  
Never think for to be honest more,  
Never keep promise, for thou now mayst swear  
To any, thou never mean'st to do?  
Hold swelling heart, for thou art tumbling down  
A hill of desperation; dark thoughts  
Assaults my goodness; but thou shalt keep promise  
Alive or dead, I will enjoy thee yet.  
I have not cursed thee yet, remember that;  
And when thoust stained thy innocent sheets with lust,  
And with satiety filled thy empty veins,  
Wearied the night with wanton dalliances,  
More prime than Goats, or Monkeys in their prides;  
Call then to mind how pleasant this had been  
Had it not been adulterate; for German  
(Is not thy husband; 'tis Bateman is the best.  
I have not cursed thee yet remember that)  
I'll muster up the forces of a man,  
To quench the rising flames that harbour here  
And if I can forget thee, by my hopes I will  
And never curse the authoress of my ill.  
I have not cursed thee yet! now remember  
Alive or dead 'tis I that must enjoy thee.  Exeunt. Enter Ursula. Vrs. 
By my virginity the Groom cries to bed, night goes to Ghost, how now another Niobe turned to stone, bless me has the Conjurer been here.  Y. Ba. 
Alive or dead I must, and will enjoy thee,  
It was my promise? I cannot choose but weep.  
I have not cursed thee yet, remember that.  Vrs. 
hay day what inundations are here, will you come away, and the Groom should geld himself for anger there would be fine sport.  An. 
I have lost myself, and know not where I am!  Enter Boot. Bo. 
Come, come, I have danced till every joint about me grows stiff but that which should be! to bed wench, the groom he's outgone thee, he's warming the sheets the first night i'faith.  An. 
To bed! oh heavens, would it were to my grave  
So I might never here of my misdeeds  
I have not cursed thee yet! remember that  
Alive or dead I must, and will enjoy thee  
How like the deadly tolling of a Bell  
A peal of sad presages were his words.  Bo. 
Ha, weeping; this is not customary on bridal-nights, Niece who was with your coz too night?  Vrs. 
Uncle there was a certain man  Bo. 
ay, ay, but where is that certain man  Vrs. 
There is the woman, but the certain man is gone  An. 
A certain man indeed, for whom I now  
Could weep a Sea, to wash out my pollutions?  Bo. 
But nimble Chaps, tongue Trotter, neats-tongue Mistress magpie  
What was this certain man called  Vrs. 
With reverence Uncle his name was Bateman?  Bo. 
An undermining Knave, I will indite him,  
For daring to set foot upon my ground?  
This day his father hath arrested me  
Upon an action of a thousand pounds  
A precontract betwixt his son, and thee  
To bed my wench, Bateman shall surely find  
Me master of my words, when his proves wind.  Ex. Omnes. Enter Mortigue meeting Clifton. Clif. 
Thou keep'st thy promise Mortigue.  Mor. 
In all things as befits a man of worth  
Thou hast abused my princely mistress name  
Sullied her royalties with infamies,  
And from thy throat, as from a serpent's chaps.  
Belched poisons 'gainst the Dowager of France;  
To prove these false I made this sally forth  
Only to combat thee.  Clif. 
By my halidom,  
I'm glad I've waked thy temper!  
The end still finds itself in every act,  
And so shalt thou in thy presumptuous braves?  
The honour of my mistress makes me young  
Her name shoots majesty into my looks,  
Valour into my heart, strength to this arm  
Which thou shalt feel to thunder on thy Helm,  
Guard thee Frenchman, i'm sure thou canst not fly;  
Bravely I'll kill thee, or else bravely die.  
thouart my prisoner Doysells.  Fight, Clifton disarms him, Enter Grey, Arguile, Soldiers. Mor. 
Through chance of war I am.  Arg. 
Hew him in pieces.  Clif. 
By my halidom?  
My life shall stand between him, and danger.  
He's my prisoner, and by the Law of Arms,  
Yielding himself a Captive to our mercy,  
His life is ransomable; let our General  
Decree his ransom, and after dispose of him.  Gr. 
Noble Clifton his ransom is thine own,  
Dispose of him as thou pleasest.  Clif. 
By my halidom, and will?  
There take thy Arms, return back to Leith  
With our best convoy; I tell thee Mortigue  
My hatred is not capital, though honour,  
And war's necessity made me storm;  
When to these walls thou seest my white coats come  
With scaling ladders to assault the Town  
Be merciful as I have been to thee,  
This is all Clifton's ransom.  Mor. 
I shall report thee noble!  Gr. 
Thanks noble Clifton,  
Thou still add'st honour to thy country's fame,  
Make scaling Ladders, for we straight intend,  
By heaven's assistance to mount these walls,  
Courage brave spirits, every act finds end,  
we'll teach the Frenchman keep within his bounds  
Or send him home full of heroic wounds  Exeunt Omnes. Young Bateman in's shirt, a halter about his neck. Y. Ba. 
It 'tis resolved! life is too burdensome,  
I've borne while I can, and have suppressed  
All insurrections pale Death has made.  
It is my terror that I live to think  
I bear a life that is offensive to me.  
Pale monster in thy meagerest aspect  
Come, and affront me; fill thy unpaunched nerves  
With my heart's blood; till with the overture  
Thy never satisfied maw be sated?  
But cowardly monster thou approachest none  
But those that fly thee, and like to greatness  
Wouldst be so elevated for doing good,  
That of thyself thou never didst intend.  
Poor Snakes that are in worldly sorrows sowrst  
Cannot participate thy Ebon Dart.  
'tis said thou art not partial, and dost wind  
The Prince, the beggar, and the potentate  
All in one mould; but they do falsify  
That say thou art so tyrannously just,  
For I have sought thee through the unpenned groves,  
The shady cells where melancholy walks,  
And echo-like thou answer'st me with Death,  
But dar'st not show thy face; the world's monarch  
In three fits of an Ague died. Some flies,  
Some silly gnats can kill! let me consume  
then mayst thou brag thy conquest, that thou slewst  
What neither love nor hatred could destroy.  
Since thou disdainest me, I disdain thy power,  
There be a thousand ways to cozen Death  
Behold a Tree, just at her door a fruitless Tree  
That has in autumn cast her leafy boughs  
Sorry to show such fruit as she produces.  
The night seems silent, sleep charms the house,  
And now the perjured woman is a topping,  
I'll climb as high as she, yet I'll not rest,  
My airy ghost shall find her where she lies,  
And to her face divulge her perjuries.  
Night be auspicious, draw thy sable weeds,  
For daylight is a ashamed of her black deeds  
One twitch will do't, and then I shall be wed  
As firm unto my grave, as to her bed.  Falls, hangs, Enter old Bateman in's shirt, & Torch. O. Ba. 
I've missed my boy out of his bed tonight  
Heavens grant that he be well, for in his eyes  
Sad discontentment sits! till yesterday  
I never saw him so propense to sorrow.  
Nor deeply touched with distemperature,  
When I began to tell him of his mistress  
Which I in violence of words branded  
With damned perjury; as Heaven knows  
She has consumed her goodness; then would he  
Sit by, and sigh, and with salt tears trilling  
Down his cheeks, entreat me not to name her,  
Curse her I must not I then would he steal to bed,  
As full of mournful sorrows as a sinner.  
'tis almost morn and I suspect him here  
Hovering about this house! oft would he say  
He wooed her underneath a plum-tree,  
And underneath that Tree he vowed to sit,  
And tell his sorrows to the gummy boughs  
Though she disdained to hear them? protect me!  
Good Angels guard me, what heavy sight is this  
That like a sullen sadness reaves my sense,  
Prove false mine eyes that this may prove untrue?  
Better you never had seen then to see this.  
Leave your slimy cisterns, and drop out;  
'tis he, 'tis he, would I could tell a lie  
The falsest one that e'er was told by man  
That this might prove untrue; but 'tis in vain  
To dark the Sun, or wrestle 'gainst the truth  
Murderers look out, I'll rouse the thunderer,  
To rouse you from your sleeps! false fiends come out,  
And see a deed, the day willbe ashamed of  
Caused by your perjuries.  Bo. 
who's that which calls  Boot, Anne, Ursula, above. 
With horrid terror, and such affrightments  
As when skath fires devast our villages,  O. Ba. 
Look this way monster see thou adultress  
Behold the miserablest Map of woe  
That ever father mourned for; my poor boy  
hard-hearted fate that brought thee to this end,  
Hated Vipers they that were the causers,  Bo. 
How dar'st thou Bateman come upon my ground  O. Ba. 
Cursed be thy ground, and cursed be all trees  
That brings forth such abortive fruit as this.  Bo. 
Ha, ha, has— he hanged himself, and saved justice a labor!  An. 
I never looked for better end of him, he had a malevolent aspect in his looks, ha, ha, ha!  O. Ba. 
Laughst thou Crocodile?  
Are miseries lamented with contempts?  
The books of fate are not so closely shut,  
But they may open, and record the scorns  
Dwelling in every Region of thy face?  
A fixed decree may be set down for thine,  
And thou mayst Swanlike sing a Funeral ode,  
Who then shall laugh at thee?  Bo. 
I laugh to see, how well sorrow becomes thee.  O. Ba. 
Such dire becomings mayst thou never want,  
Thou that wert once the Jewel of these eyes,  
Look here, and see the ruins of pale death.  
How soon a Gorgeous Palace is sunk down;  
Though he has surfeited upon this piece  
He has not ta'en the colour of his cheek,  
Nature contests with death, and will outdo him;  
Canst not thou spare one tear to balm him in,  
Nor lend a sigh as sorry for his fall?  
If not today I'll come again tomorrow,  
So thou wilt shed two tears, and one poor sigh,  
Then gentle Charon will assign him waftage;  
Thy griefs are violent, and work within  
'tis a foul sign of an unpersant heart  
whenas the eyes cannot impart a tear.  
Since none of you will weep, I'll weep alone  
Till Niobe like my tears convert to stone.  An. 
Had you disciplined your son in's youth  
You might then have prevented your tears?  
'cause he was bad, and I did shun his evils,  
Must I be held the causeress of his ills?  
Must my virtues beget his perverseness,  
Or my obedience breed his shameful death,  
If the World balance me uprightly just  
I care not then which way you turn the Scales;  O. Ba. 
Worse than the worst that ever could be named.  An. 
My best counsel is that you bury him as the custom of the Country is, and drive a stack through him; so perhaps I that had no quietness with him whilst he lived, may sleep in peace now he's dead.  O. Bat. 
I will not curse thee, 'twas my boy's request  
Such deeds as these sink not in oblivion,  
The justness of my cause I leave to Heaven.  
mayst thou live mother of many children,  
And may they prosper better than did mine.  
Come poor boy these arms have borne thee oft  
I'll have thy picture hung up in my Chamber,  
And when I want thee, I will weep to that  
Death's Leaden Plummets draw thine eyelids down,  
Since none will sing sad obsequies but I,  
I'll call the Linnet, Redbreast, and the throstle,  
The Nightingale shall bear the burden two  
For she is exquisite in tragic notes,  
we'll have a Funeral hymn, and o'er thy hearse,  
This woman's perjuries I'll pen in verse.  Enter An. 
How now cozen weeping?  Vrs. 
Troth cousin,  
Though griefs of lower kinds assail me not,  
I never was so touched unto the heart,  
Mine eyes so flexible are to melt in tears  
I cannot stop'em; I shall be still afraid  
To walk toth' door when I behold this Tree,  
For fear his Ghost haunt me! I wonder much,  
You could forbear from passionating.  An. 
Afraid on's Ghost, as much as of a picture painted o'th' wall! that's just like we fools that rub our shins 'gainst the bed posts in our dreams, and then swear the fairies, pinched us? he swore he would have me quick or dead. Let him lie still in's grave I will in my bed, and let consequents prove the rest?  Bo. 
Ghosts Hobgoblins, will with wisp, or Dick a Tuesday.  
Thy husband wench this morn journeys to Newcastle  
And hardly will return these twelve Moons,  
Let's feast with him, for Ghosts, and such like toys  
Leave them to foolish dotards, girls, and boys.  Exeunt Omnes.   


Actus Tertius Scena Prima.  Enter, Anne hastily, pursuing Ursula, with lights. An. 
Keep of, keep back, I charge thee.  Vrs. 
'las cousin i'm not infectious my breath cannot blast you?  An. 
It haunts me as my shadow or a vision?  
It will not let me rest sleep, nor eat,  
The barricaded doors and iron locks.  
No sooner shut but like a new clasped book  
Their leafy hinges straightway fall asunder,  
And it gets in; I wonder 'tis not here,  
This is a gentle respite, and not usual,  
Since German went I never had so much;  
It plays the sentinel at my bed's feet?  
And but it wants the rosy coloured face  
Whom meager death has played the horseleech with,  
It would not seem so ghostly in these eyes.  
It bears the perfect form it used to do.  
As if it never knew immortality  
Nor wasted underneath a Hill of Clay.  
Sometimes as curious limners have portrayed  
Tears trilling from the weeping Niobe,  
That some would swear the very picture wept,  
And art of nature got the mastery?  
So did I guess afflux of brinish tears  
Came from this Airy, and unfathomed Ghost?  
And could the Painters of this age draw sighs  
I could demonstrate sighs, and heavy groans  
As if a sensible heart had broke in twain?  
Then would it turn, and cry false woman.  
And leave me to descant on the rest!  Vrs. 
You tell me of an object, and a strange one,  
But whose is the resemblance?  An. 
I theirs the point,  
For that I must be pardoned; oh my shame  
That I should be the causeress of a deed,  
I blush to nominate.  Vrs. 
Has it no name!  An. 
Yes sweet Ursula,  
But such a one as sadly aggravates  
My woes in repetition; pray leave me  
I am addicted to contemplation  
But rest within my call.  Vrs. 
'tis but your fond conceit; I've heard you say that dreams and visions were fabulous; and yet one time I dreamed foul water ran through the floor, and the next day the house was on fire; you used to say Hobgoblins, Fairies, and the like were nothing but our own affrightments, and ye oh my troth coz I once dreamed of a young bachelor, and was rid with a nightmare. But come, so my conscience be clear I never care how foul my dreams are.  Exit. An. 
Thou now hast touched the point,  
'tis conscience is the 'larum Bell indeed  
That makes us sensible of our good or bad?  
You that are Lovers, by me you may perceive  
What is the burden of a troubled mind,  
Take heed of vows, and protestations  
Which wantonly in dalliancies you make,  
The eye of Heaven is on you, and your oaths  
Are registered; which if you break, bless me.  Enter Ghost. Gho. 
Thou canst not fly me,  
There is no Cavern in the Earth's, vast entrails  
But I can through as pearcant as the light,  
And find thee, though thou were't entombed in stone,  
Thou canst not catch my unsubstantial part,  
For I am air, and am not to be touched.  
From flaming fires of burning Phlegeton,  
I have a time limited to walk,  
Until the morning Cock shall summon me  
For to retire to misty Erebus.  
My pilgrimage has no cessation,  
Until I bring thee with me to the place  
Where Rhadamant, and sable Aeacus dwell  
Alive or dead, 'tis I that must enjoy thee,  
To tell the story where we spirits live  
Would pluck Vermilion from thy Rosy cheeks,  
And make them pale, as Snowy Apennines,  
And from thine eyes draw liquid streams of tears  
More full of issue then a steepy Fountain,  
Alive or dead I must, and will enjoy thee,  
Think on thy promise.  An. 
Distraction like an Ague seizes me,  
I know not whether I see here, or speak,  
My intellectual parts are frozen up  
At sight of thee, thou fiery Effigies  
Of my wronged Bateman.  Enter Boot, Ursula. Bo. 
What weeping again?  An. 
Do you not see it?  Bo. 
See! what? I see nothing but a Bird fly o'er the house.  Vrs. 
Nor I, but a blind Buzzard looks as like her husband as may be.  An. 
Are you blind, or will you make yourselves so?  
See! how like a dreadful magistrate it stands,  
Still pointing at me the black offender;  
And like a cunning poisoner, will not kill me,  
But lets me linger on, for days, and years.  
It stares, beckons, points, to the piece of Gold  
We broke between us; look, look there, here there!  Bo. 
I see nothing, perceive nothing, feel nothing!  Vrs. 
Nor I, no quick thing, neither clothed nor naked.  Bo. 
No, no, no! you drank Balm, Burrage or bugloss last night to bedward, that makes you think on your dreams this morning.  An. 
But I will to't, hug, and embrace it.  Gho. 
Thy time is not yet come; i'm now exiled  
I may not touch thee while thou art with child.  Exit Ghost. An. 
you do not hear it neither?  Bo. 
Whom should we hear?  An. 
Young Batemans visage.  
In every limb as perfect as he lived.  Bo. 
If it be so, 'tis done by sorcery.  
The father has combined, with some witch,  
To vex thy quiet patience, and gain credit,  
That he would haunt thee dead, as oft he said,  
Hell can put life into a senseless body,  
And raise it from the grave, and make it speak;  
Use all the faculties alive it did,  
To work the devil's hellish stratagems!  
If I but find he deals in exorcisms  
I'll make him burn to pacify the Witch,  
But do not believe it girl.  An. 
'Tis vanished in an instant!  
I will not be too confident in my eyes,  
Will you grant me leave to visit Bateman?  Bo. 
Visit mine enemy?  An. 
I have an inward sorrow bids me do it,  
I did him wrong to gibe his miseries  
whenas he bore the dead Corpses in his arms,  
My Genius tells me, I shall have no rest  
Till I have made contrition;  Bo. 
But not to him.  
I'd rather live subjected to a Turk,  
Go not my girl, I'll feast all thy senses,  
Thy palate shall with viands be supplied,  
Thine ears with heavenly rapture live inspired,  
Thine eyes with sportive action, and delight,  
Thou shalt have Music to consume the day,  
And waste the night.  An. 
Music! harsh Ravens croak?  
screech-owls shrill, the augurers of night,  
Are first companions for my melancholy,  
I must go see him; if this apparition  
Appear not in his sight, my conjecture  
Shall judge it nothing, but my conscience  
That finds me guilty for my black offence;  Exit. Bo. 
Follow her Niece,  
She hears a Pleurisy of griefs about her,  
And much I fear the weakness of her brain  
Should draw her to some ominous exigent!  
Would she had ne'er, infringed her vow to Bateman  
Or I had ne'er known this wealthy German!  
If he prove harsh to her, I'll make him know,  
An enforced hate to vengeance is not slow.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Joshua, his Cat in a string, Miles, Ball. Bal. 
Nay sweet Jo. be persuaded.  Io. 
Persuade me, I scorn to be persuaded? Ball thou art Heathenish, for the offence is foul which thou wouldst cloak, I'm not to be persuaded, I will doom the creature, and burn the cloak of her knavery; yet in sincerity I will do nothing without good colour.  Mil. 
Thy colours, Jo. were better bestowed on course waiting women Madam Macaroons that sell paintings, and stop holes with plaster of Paris.  Ios. 
Miller, Miller, thou art not mealy mouthed; those be the Heathen babbles, the maypoles of time, and Pageants of vanity, but I will convince them of error, and scour their pollutions away with the waters of my exhortations.  Mi. 
Why shouldst thou hang thy Cat?  Ios. 
Thou art saucy, Miller, & ought'st not to catechise me so,  Bal. 
And it were but for country's sake.  Mi. 
Sweet Jo. consider thy Cat is thy Countryman,  Bal. 
Hang a poor Cat for killing a Mouse?  Mi. 
Knowing the proverb too, Cat after Kind.  Bal. 
As it is in the painted cloth too; when the Cat's away the Mouse will play.  Ios. 
ay, but as it is in the painted cloth, beware in time for too much patience, to Dog or Cat will breed too much offence. She did kill a Mouse, I but when? on the forbidden day, and therefore she must die on Monday.  Mi. 
Then shall thy zeal be proclaimed, for hanging thy Cat on Monday for killing a Mouse on Sunday.  Ios. 
Miller thou art drunk in thy enormities, and art full of the cake of iniquity.  Grey, Arguile, Clifton. Bal. 
Well, to thy execution we commit thee.  Ios. 
Blessed be the instruments of silence; poor puss take it not ill that I must hang thee, by that means I free thee from bawling Mastiffs, and snarling curs; I have brought thee up of a whelp, and now will have a care of thy end.  Gr. 
A notable exhortation.  Ties her. Clif. 
List to the sequel;  Ios. 
When thou art dead, thou shalt not curse me, for my proceedings shall be legal; thou art at the bar of my mercy, and thus I ascend to judgement, as it is in the painted cloth.  Gr. 
Harken the indictment.  Ios. 
Tybert the Cat; as it is in the painted cloth, of the Bull, and Cock, sometimes housekeeper, drudger or succourer to Marmaduke joshua, Limner alias painter-stainer, & now the correcter or extirper of vermin, as Rats, Mice, and other waspish animals; thou art here indicted by thy dear Master Marmaduke joshua for breaking of the high-day, what sayst thou for thyself? guilty or not guilty? hah.  Gr. 
Would she could mew non guilty.  Ios. 
Know'st thou not, thou silly Cat, that thy brethren will not Kill the Calf nor roast the Mutton nor boil their flesh Pots on the high-day? was it not decreed by our learned brother Abolt cabbage, Cobbler of Amsterdam, that they should be held unclean, and not worthy of the means that did it, and did not expect Cratchet Cool his proud flesh in the Leene for making insurrection on the high day?  Clif. 
A point well watered.  jos 
Did not Nadab the sow-gelder make a gaunt of his gelt for being cumbersome on the high-day? Ha thy silence argues guilt; hast thou not seen the whole conventicle of brothers, and sisters walk to St. Ann's, and not so much as a fructifying Kiss on the high—  Gr. 
It seems the elect Kiss weekly.  Ios. 
And must thou kill a Mouse? oh thou wicked Cat; couldst not turn up the white of the eye for the poor creature? thou gluttonous Cat, thou art now arraigned, I adjudge thee to be hanged this Monday, for killing a Mouse yesterday being the high-day.  Offers to hang her. Gr. 
Stay, stay, a pardon, a pardon!  Ios. 
I am hot in my zeal, and fiery in expedition,  Clif. 
we'll talk with you hereafter.  Ios. 
I was executing a point of justice, equity, and conscience,  Gr. 
A pleasant tragicomedy, the Cat being scaped, What Trumpets this?  Enter Cross. Cros. 
Monlucke, Bishop of Valens,  
Newly anchored in the haven of Inskeith,  
Desires safe convoy by your honour's forces,  
From the red Brays to Edinburgh Castle,  
The rest on interview he will impart.  
Such entertainment, as the war affords  
The Drum the fife, the thundering Cannon,  
The shrill Trumpets, and all warlike Cymbals,  
Such Music as in wars Soldiers measure  
Bestow on him; come he in war or peace  
He shallbe welcome?  Io. 
Oh that profane surplice, ho, ho, ho.  Enter Monlucke attendant saluts. Mon. 
Mary, King dolphin's wife, Dowager of France,  
And heir apparent to the Scottish Crown,  
Hearing of devastations in her Lands,  
And the oppressions that her neighbour Princess  
With rough hostility grinds her people,  
Me her Legate she sends to Edinburgh,  
To parley with her Mother the Queen Regent,  
And Article A peace 'twixt her dear sister,  
The Queen of England, and the Lords of Scotland.  
If our conditions may be made with honour,  
This is my message.  Gr. 
Either for peace or war.  
The Queen my Mistress now is armed for both,  
For like a virtuous Princess, and a Mother  
o'er us her loving subjects, and her sons,  
She knowing a king's security rests,  
In the true love, and welfare of her people,  
Raised this hostility for to guard herself,  
Not to offend, but to defend her own,  
Her Secretary Sicill now attends  
On the like embassy for Edinburgh,  
Whither yourself shall safely be convoyed.  Mon. 
You are an honourable foe.  Gr. 
Will the Queen,  
Lay by her nicety, rough filed phrase,  
And not articulate too much with England?  
For by the power of war ere two suns rise  
we'll mount the walls of Leith, and sacrifice,  
Her guilded Towers, and her French insulters;  
In flames of fire; we vow to hazard lives,  
And honours in the enterprise.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Anne, with a Torch, Ursula, Bateman, wailing his Picture. An. 
Softly, softly; fie on your creaking shoes, what noise they make; shut the Doors close, it does not hear us a jot, look well to the Darneicke Hangings, that it play not the Court Page with us.  Vrs. 
here's not so much as a shadow to affright us, for mine own part neither Incubus nor Sucubus can do't; I fear not what a quick thing can do, and I think your dead things are too quiet to say any harm  An. 
Yet all is clear, no frightful vision  
Nor Ghostly apparition haunts me yet;  
Yonder's thy father, good powers assist me,  
That I may gain his patience to hear me,  
And I am heartily satisfied.  O. Ba. 
Pygmalion doted on the piece he made,  
So do not I upon thy portraiture.  
I do but hang thy fair resemblance here  
To tell me of my immortality.  
How sensible young Cedars are o'th' wind,  
whenas the aged Oak affronts all storms  
'Tis death, and nature's fault, for the Diamond,  
Of blooming youth, despise decaying age.  
He might have ta'en thee else, and left thee boy.  An. 
Whom talks he too? my life Coz, he has a ghost too! Yet I see nothing.  Ba. 
How now Hyena; why cam'st thou hither?  
Com'st thou again to gibe my miseries?  
Has thy maligning hearted father sent thee  
To scoff my sorrows? keep of I charge thee,  
Thou didst bewitch my poor boy with a Kiss,  
Thy breath is sure infectious, and I fear  
Their's something in thee smells of sorcery.  
Stand at distance.  An. 
Good sir, use patience,  
That in extremity is sovereign Balm,  
Tears be my witness I come to comfort you,  
Yet I see nothing.  Ba. 
Tears? 'tis impossible!  
Marble will drop, and melt against the rain,  
And from the craggy Rocks, Fountainous Floods  
Oft get enforced issues; but to gain  
Relenting tears from thy obdurate heart  
'Tis impossible, as to force Fire from snow  
Water from flint, say the Sun shall not shine,  
As well upon the beggar as the King,  
That is alike indifferent to all.  Vrs. 
Good sir remember,  
Forgiveness is an Attribute of Heaven.  
She has a hearty sorrow for her sins,  
And comes to make atonement, if you please.  An. 
Still I nothing anywhere.  Ba. 
Pray listen;  
Would not that Physician be well hanged  
That for his practice' sake Kills his patient,  
And after pleads a sorrow to his friends?  
She weeps, an evidence of a hearty sorrow,  
My boy would not have seen her weep thus long,  
But he'd have ministered comfort I my tears  
Plays the thief with mine eyes too.  An. 
Yet all is safe; sure it was but my dreams,  
Sir you had a son, bless me 'tis here now.  Enter Ghost. 
In the same figure that it used to be.  
Peace is more dear, and precious unto me  
Then a night's rest, to a man turmoiled in Law.  
My eyes set here unmoved, I'll gaze with thee,  
Until the windows of my head drop out.  
But then my mind willbe afflicted too.  
For what is unseen there, is visible here.  
Lead me, I'll follow; though to a desert,  
Or any uncouth place, work thy vengeance,  
And do not torture me alive; neither  Gho. 
All things keep their time!  An. 
Let all times daughters which are days, convert  
To one day, and bring me to my period,  Ba. 
Whom converses she withal?  Vrs. 
To her unseen fancies.  An. 
See with eyes of wonder! see!  Ba. 
What should I see?  An. 
Ask you what? why 'tis your son,  
Just as he died, look, look, there, here, there.  Ba. 
Is this thy sorrow, com'st thou to mock me?  An. 
Just heavens not I! see how it smiles on you,  
On me it hurls a dejected look.  Takes the Picture. Ba. 
Because I hang his Picture ne'er my bed,  
Com'st thou to laugh me! out out, fondling Noah!  
See thus I gaze on it; stroke his snowy hands,  
And prune the curled tresses of his locks,  
Which the artsman neatly has dishevelled.  Vrs. 
Good sir; have patience, her's is true sorrow,  
And not derision.  Stands between the Picture, & Ghost. An. 
Another Ganymede!  
This eye, and yond, are one? this front, that lip,  
This cheek, a little ruddier shows than that,  
The very ashy paleness of his face,  
The mossy down still growing on his chin,  
And so his Alabaster finger pointing  
To the bracelet, whereon the piece of gold  
We broke between us hangs.  Ba. 
Certes she's mad.  An. 
Pray come hither,  
You shade this Picture from the perceant Sun,  
And curtain it, to keep it from the dust,  
Why are you not as chary then of that?  
It looks as it were could, alas poor Picture,  Ba. 
here's but one Picture!  An. 
I say theirs two,  
You will not see this for to save a Curtain,  
His knotty curls, like to Apollo's trammels  
Neatly are displayed; I'll swear the Painter  
That made this piece, had the other by it.  
Why do you not speak too it? 'tis your son,  
May be, he's tongue-tied, and cannot crave blessing,  Ba. 
I could tell thee, I nailed him to the Earth  
Riveted a stake quite through his bosom,  
And bid thee go seek him; but I love not  
To mock miseries; I'll take this Picture hence,  
It troubles your sight.  An. 
And you'd remove that, I'd thank you;  Ba. 
'Tis thy forced fancies, and thy guilt together  
persuades thee so; pray thee be a woman,  
Whom thou cam'st to comfort, comforts thee;  
Though I intended to have hurled at thee,  
Stings of dishonour, ignominies, reproaches,  
And all the stock of calumnies, and scorn,  
Which thou art guilty off; now my pity  
Converts them into sorrow for thy sorrows;  Vrs. 
A blessing crown you for it.  An. 
And can their be a hope you will forgive me?  Exit Ghost. Ba. 
Heartily I do—  An. 
See it's gone now.  
As if it vexed to see your clemency.  Ba. 
Distemper not yourself at fancies;  
Your time hastens to maturity,  
Y'are very big, and may endanger your fruit,  
If you give way to passions.  An. 
'twill be abortive,  
As are my actions, I shall not live  
To take felicity in it! see it's here again.  Enter Ghost, and Exit. Gho. 
All things keep their time.  Ba. 
Come go with me.  
I'll give thee comfortable cordials  
That shall remove these objects from thine eyes,  
Expelling all disastrous accidents,  
And plain thy thoughts as smooth as innocence,  
Which when thou hear'st, then in rapture boast,  
Thou dread'st no visions, fury, fiend nor Ghost.  Exeunt Omnes. An. 
Be you my counsellor, and father too,  Vrs. 
Whom I admire for noble honesty.    


Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.  Enter Clifton, Grey, Arguile, joshua, Miles, Ball, Soldiers. Gr. 
What day is this?  Clif. 
Tuesday the seventh of May.  Gr. 
This day shall in our English Calendar stand  
Either to our dishonour, or great fames,  
When Chronicles in after ages tell  
The seventh of May we scaled the walls of Leith,  
We have begun, dreadless of death, and dangers,  
And like to loyal subjects held the rights  
Of our dear Mistress Queen Elizabeth.  
When Captain Randall gives the Alarum,  
Assault, assault, each man salute his friend,  
Take solemn farewell till this siege have end.  Omnes. 
Assault, assault.  Gr. 
Holds every man his charge as we ordered?  Clif. 
I guess so my Lord;  
Howard with his lanceteers' quarters  
twixt Mount Pelham, and the Sea by West.  
Stout Harry Percy with his barbed steeds  
Neighing for action guards the Tents by East,  
Arguile, with shot marches for the Hill Brey;  
Sir Francis Leake keeps the water-ports,  
I the green Bulwark opposite to Doysells  
With tough hardy Nottinghamshire boys  
we'll fall before we fly, by my halidom.  Gr. 
I'll man this bulwark 'gainst proud Mortigue.  
Hark, the Alarum, each man unto his place.  Exeunt Omnes. After squirmishes. Enter Grey, meeting Clifton, with Armour. Gr. 
How goes the day, sir jarvis?  Clif. 
t's bloody.  
The thunderer, on both sides shoots his bolt's  
Valour is at the touchstone of true trial;  
The French like to so many gods of war  
Bravely brandish darting fire from steel;  
The valiant Scot Arguile commands the Hill,  
The Town-plays fiercely; their came a shot  
Of full two hundreth weight into my Tent.  
Doysells has thrice assaulted me. I faced him,  
And from his sides, like Libyan Hercules,  
I tore the rough Nemean Lion's Skin  
His Armour of good proof which here I bear,  
And will not part from, but with loss of life.  Gr. 
See! Arguile appears.  Arg. 
Man the water-ports,  
With all the Engines of defensive war;  
Well fought Vaughan he mans the trenches bravely  
Young Arthur Grey assaults the stony mures,  
un goes the scaling Ladders, now they mount,  
Now Somerset, now Read, now Valiant Brey,  
Towering like eager Hawks who shall get highest!  
Like angry Lions, or incensed Tigers;  
The Frenchmen labour, greedy for the prey,  
Now the hardy Scots as swift as Roes,  
Climb the walls, and toss the Frenchmen down,  
Now from the mount their thundering Cannons roar,  
Whose direful clangours shake their huge structures,  
And like an earthquake tumble to the Earth,  
Their steeples, Ordinance, Gunners, all at once,  
Now Inskeith, Sutton, Newport, Conway, Fitton,  
As dreadless enter dangers, as their Tents;  
Accursed chance, the Ladders are too short,  
Which gives a treble, vantage to the French.  
Now the foe triumphs, now our white coats fall,  
Now groans the mother, now the virgin sighs;  
Death willbe master, neither party wins  
Now flies the English; now the French follow,  
And now their horsemen fling about the sands,  
Howard counterbuffs their canvasadoes  
Like chaffed Bulls, or foaming Boars they strive  
For mastery; the Frenchmen fly the Town,  
And seek for shelter. Now men your Trenches,  
Count Mortigue, and Doysells from the Town  
Make expedition! now sings the god of war  
His direful Anthems; now fight, or never,  
We now are freemen or else bondmen ever.  Alarum. Enter Doysells, Mortigue, Soldiers. Doy. 
Thou bear'st my armour Clifton;  Clif. 
My halidom,  
Thank me Doysells, I did not take thy head.  Mor. 
I came to seek thee, Grey;  Gr. 
The Town I see was too hot to hold thee,  
else thou'st have nestled in thy penthouse still.  Clif. 
we'll not articulate.  Alarms Monluck, Cross, between the Armies. Mon. 
Th'effuse of blood is great,  
Which had been better never spent, then ill;  
You of our party, by our commission,  
We do command your tarriance; your Lords  
Of England, and of Scotland we entreat  
A little patience till your Heralds speak.  Cros. 
William Cecil the queen's Secretary,  
Wotton Deane of Canterbury, and York,  
With sir Ralph Sadler joint Commissioners,  
Commands thee john Lord Grey of Wilton,  
Now General of her Majesty's forces,  
To make immediate repair to Edinburgh,  
And present lay by all hostility,  
From this hour until seven o'clock at night.  Mon. 
The like on your allegiance to Mary Dowager of France, and Queen of Scots, we do commend.  Mor. 
We obey, and instant will give order.  Ger. 
The like do you sir jarvis,  Clif. 
Now we have beaten them out of the Town, they come To composition.  Ger. 
Give order through our Trenches, Tents, Bulwarks,  
That not a piece of great nor smaller shot  
Prove prejudicial to the French; until from us  
You have commission; my Lord of Valens  
I'll wait on you to the commissioners,  
If we have peace 'tis welcome, and if war.  
We are for either object, both we dare.  Exeunt Mon. Grey. Clif. 
My halidom.  
What a new monster England has begot  
We cannot fight because we want commission?  
Mortigue, Doysells, by my just halidom  
It grieves me that we must not fight it out.  
Come le'ts shake hands, till seven at night all friends  
After such greetings, as on war depends.  Doy. 
We dread not chances.  Exeunt Omnes. A bed covered with white. Enter Prattle, magpie, Long-tongue, Barren with a Child, Anne in bed. Pra. 
Lord, lord, what pretty imps you are in your majorities!  Mag. 
Is it a manchild Mother Prattle?  Pra. 
No insooth gossip magpie it is one of us, heavens bless thee baby, and a well appointed imp it is.  Lon. 
See how it smiles.  Barr. 
That's a sign of anger, 'twill be a shrew I lay my life.  Pra. 
No, no, Mistress Barren, an Infant smiling, and a lamb's bleating is a sign of fertility it is so in Artimedorus; you frowned when you were borne, and that's the reason you are so sterile; Artimedorus saith so in his fourth book.  Mag. 
What pretty dimples it has!  Long. 
Fathers none nyes.  Pra. 
None nose.  Barr. 
Smooth forehead!  Mag. 
Cherry lip!  Pra. 
Had it been manchild, their had been three evident signs of an whoremaster; a Roman Nose, Cherry Lip, and a bald pate, for so Artimedorus in his Problems.  Mag. 
Well, well, whosoever got it, 'tis as like none father as an Apple to a Nut, insooth Gossip Prattle it is.  Long. 
It smiles still! sure it was begot in a merry hour.  Barr. 
Then I was got in a merry vain; for praised be to memory my Mother said I hung the lip at my nativity.  Mag. 
Lord Mother Prattle do the Moderns report so?  Pra. 
I surely Gossip magpie, and it is a great sign of frugality if the Stars, and Planets be concordant, for saith Artimedorus; if it be borne under Venus, it will be fair as you are, if under Sol, Rich as you are, and if under mercury.  Mag. 
Good Mother Prattle what is that god Mercury? is it he that makes the white Mercury waters, Ladies scour their faces withal!  Pra. 
I surely Gossip, and stop their wrinkles with too, and saith Artimedorus, in his third book of his Moderns, if borne under Castor, and Pollux, store of children.  Mag. 
Caster, and Bollux?  Pra. 
You speak broad Gossip, 'tis Pollux.  Mag. 
Why Bollux be it then; surely Barren was not borne under Bollux, for she has been married this seven years, and never had child,  Bar. 
By your favour Gossip magpie, you were borne under Caster, and Bollux then, for you had two children before you wear married.  Enter Ursula. Pra. 
Insooth Gossip, she has given you a veny; Good lack mistress Ursula, where have you negotiated yourself; you should have been present, and have Negotiated yourself about the Maxims, and principles Of childbearing; what? you had a Mother?  Vrs. 
And a Father too, Mother midnight.  Pra. 
No matter for the father; we talk of the surer side, you may be sure to know your mother, when your mother hardly knows your father; 'tis a very facetious point, as Artimedorus in his book of dreams sets it down.  Enter Boot. Vrs. 
Here comes my Uncle.  Pra. 
Off with your hat sir, you come not here without reverence, see if the little infidel smile not on him, buss, buss, it.  Bo. 
Heavens bless the babe! what wares bear my Little infidel?  Pra. 
Bless the baby, it has sufficient if it live to be of the sages.  Bo. 
I mean carries it an English Pen, and Inkhorn Or a dutch watch tankard?  Pra. 
Bless the baby— it has— ay marry has it!  Bo. 
Is it a boy, has it a purse, and two pence in't?  Pra. 
Bless the baby, it has a purse, and no money in't yet, but it may have, and it please the destinies.  Bo. 
A purse, and no money, by St Antony I thought the groom went drunk to bed, he stole to't so early—  Pra. 
Look how it smiles.  Bo. 
Admit me to the mother;  Vrs. 
she's now awake, sir.  Bo. 
I give my thanks to heaven daughter Nan,  
Whose providence hath made thee a mother,  
Rejoice thou in the first fruits of thy womb,  
If any sad distempers trouble thy mind  
Sing lullabies unto this pretty babe,  
And they will vanish; this must be now thy comfort;  An. 
Just heaven; I might have taken comfort  
In this pretty babe; now it is too late,  
Leave me your blessing Sir; and depart hence,  Bo. 
You have some private occasions i'm not to question Niece bring the groaning cheece, and all requisites, I must supply the father's place, and bid godfathers.  Exit. An. 
Good women whose helps I had but now.  
'Tis almost now of that necessity  
It was before: I pray be vigilant,  
For if you slumber, or shut your eyelids,  
You never shall behold my living corpse.  Pra. 
Bless us daughter say not so! I hope you will not part in a trance, nor steal away in a qualm; come, come what should be your reason?  An. 
Nothing but a dream.  Pra. 
An't be a dream, let me come too it; was it a sorrowful dream? Artimedorus saith there be divers kind of meats engender dreams; as Beans, long Peason-Lentills, Coleworts, Garlic, Onions, and the like; Leeks, chestnuts, and other opening Roots, as radish, carrots, Skirrets, Parsnips; now there is some flesh is provocative too; as the Heart, the Boar, the old Hare, and Beef; and then of fowls, as the Crane, Duck, Drake, Goose, and Bustard; if you tasted any of these they will engender dreams.  An. 
Pray mark me, and let my words be written  
Within your minds, as in a manuscript,  
That when it proves so, you may say I told it.  Lon. 
Peace, and hear her dream.  An. 
methought I walked along the verdant banks  
Of fertile Trent, at an unusual time,  
The winter quarter; when Herbs, and Flowers  
Nature's choicest braveries are dead.  
When every sapless Tree sads at the root;  
Yet then, though contrary to nature,  
Upon those banks where foaming surges beat,  
I gathered Flowers, Roses red, and Damask,  
Love pansies, Pinks, and gentle Daffodils,  
That seldom buds before the Spring time comes,  
Daisies, cowslips, Harebells, marigolds,  
But not one bending Violet to be seen.  
My apron full I thought to pass away,  
And make a Garland of these fragrancies;  
Just as I turned, I spied a lovely person,  
Whose countenance was full of splendency  
With such embellishings, as I may imagine  
Better than name them; it bade me follow it,  
Then methought, it went upon the water,  
As firmly as on land; I covetous  
To parley with so sweet a frontispiece  
leapt into th'water, and so drowned myself.  
Pray watch me well this night; for if you sleep.  
I shall go gather Flowers, and then you'll weep  Vrs. 
'twas a strange dream!  Pra. 
But a very true one; look you Artimedorus in his third book of his Moderns saith to dream of Flowers is very good to a woman in childbed; it argues she shall soon enjoy her husband; to walk on the Seas specifies to a man, delight, but to a woman a dissolute life, for the Sea is like a harlot, a glicery face, and a broken heart. Come, come, do you sleep? we'll watch; by this good drink; Gossip magpie, I was almost dry.  An. 
Lay the babe by me that I may Kiss it;  Pra. 
So, so, she sleeps, come sit round, and let's have a Carouse to the little infidel.  Vrs. 
I marry sir this is a silent hour, their teeth will not let their tongues wag. Well drunck Mother midnight, now will she swear by this Wine, till she soak the Pot were it a fathom deep.  Pra. 
By this good liquour, it is so.  Vrs. 
Here's sweet swearing, and deep vows, she goes toth' bottom at every oath.  Mag. 
And I'faith Gossip Long-tongue when peeps the Onion out o'th' parsley-bed, when shalls come to your feast?  Lon. 
Truly Gossip magpie when Caster, and Bollux reigns.  Vrs. 
Sweet Mother Prattle what be those Castor, and Bollux?  Pra. 
Twins daughter that rule most the sign being in Virgo, look you Gossip Barren, could you once dream of sore eyes you should be sure of children?  Barr. 
Good sooth Mother Prattle, the first time I dreamed, I was with child I got a husband presently.  Pra. 
By this diet-bread Artimedorus saith so; mark Mistress Ursula, to dream to have Lice, either in head or body, in some quantity signifies a proper man well appointed; and by this drink I dreamed my husband when he came first a-wooing; came i'th' likeness of a Kentish twindle Pippin; that is just, as if two stones grew together, no sooner was I married, but I had two sons presently just as Artimedorus saith by this diet-bread.  Vrs. 
They have sworn all the Wine, and Banquet away.  Barr. 
I know not what your twindles are, but i'm sure I tender Castor, and Bollux as dearly as any of you; I cannot dream, heigho—  Pra. 
You begin to be sleepy; I can prescribe you a medicine of Poppy, Mandragora, and other drowsy syrups; heida all asleep? if my charge sleeps, let me rest, for by this drink i'm heavy too—  All sleeps. Vrs. 
Their all asleep I have a heavy slough,  
Come o'er my eyelids; Somisdore hath struck me,  
I cannot wake, and must give way to rest,  Sleep. Enter Ghost. Gh. 
Death's eldest daughter sleep with silencies  
Has charmed yond beldames, no jarring clock  
Nor murmuring wind dares oppose just fate.  
Awake fond mortal ne'er to sleep again,  
Now is the time I come to claim my promise,  
Alive or dead I must, and will enjoy thee.  An. 
Bless me I was in my dream again; ha!  
Mothers, cousins, Midwife, all drowned in sleep?  
Then my decreed hour is here set down  
I must away?  Gh. 
With expedition;  
The Ferryman attends thee at the verge  
Of Cocytus, and sooty Acheron,  
And he shall waft thee into Tartary,  
Where perjury, and falsehood finds reward  
There shalt thou read thy history of faults,  
And 'mongst the furies find just recompense,  
I'll bring thee over Turrets, Towers, and Steeples,  
o'er shady Groves, brineish Meres, and Brooks,  
The flattering Sea to me is navigable,  
o'er steepy Mountains, and the craggy Rocks,  
Whose heights Kiss Stars, and stop the flying Clouds  
we'll through as swift as Swallows in recourse.  
The chanticleer summons my retreat,  
Signing a period to my pilgrimage;  
From nipping frosts, and penetrating blasts  
Could Snows, black thaws, and misty killing dews.  
I'll lead thee to the ever-flaming Furnace,  
That like a Fever fed by opposite meats,  
Engenders, and consumes itself with heat.  
I'll pierce the Air as with a thunder bolt,  
And make thy passage free; make speed away  
Thy broken contract, now thou goest to pay.  Enter. she leaving her bed. An. 
Oh help, succour: help! wives, cousins, Midwives,  
Good Angels guard me, I go, but cannot tell,  
Whether my journey be, to Heaven or hell.  Vrs. 
I have slept this hour, how, d'ye cozen? ha? cozen, here; ay me, where, alas nowhere, ay me she's gone, she's gone.  Pra. 
Heigho; what's the matter Mistress Ursula!  Vrs. 
Alas! my cousin, she's gone, she's gone.  Mar. 
marry Jove forbid.  Long. 
I did not like her dream.  Barr. 
Nor I, I promise you.  Pra. 
Dispatch every one several ways some to th'fields some toth' waterside; 'las 'tis but a fit, 'twill be over presently— away away severally.  Exeunt, and Enter Boot. Bo. 
What means this noise! how comes my doors open at this time o'th' night; I hope my daughters well,  Vrs. 
Oh sir she is—  Bo. 
Not dead I hope.  Vrs. 
I know not that neither; but whilst we  
After long watching took a little rest  
She's stolen out of her bed, and fled away,  
The doors quite open, and the infant-here.  Enter Women bringing Anne. Bo. 
Heaven bless her; I am struck dead with grief  
She has been subject to distempered passions  
Jove grant she works no harm upon herself,  
methinks she should not for the infant's sake,  
Poor babe it smiles, it lacks no mother yet.  
Till it miss the breast, she cannot be far  
But they may find her out; their's a great Snow  
fallen this night, and by her foot steps they may  
Easily trace her, where she is.  Vrs. 
Oh misery!  
Behold the saddest spectacle of woe,  
That ever mortal eyes took notice off.  Pra. 
We traced her through the Snow, step, by step,  
Until we came unto the riverside,  
Where like a cunning Hare she had indented  
To cozen her pursuers, and cozened herself  
For drowned we found her on the riverside  
Nigh Colic Ferry.  Bo. 
Oh my poor girl!  Enter Bateman with his Picture. Ba. 
Oh my poor boy!  Bo. 
How happy had I been if she had lived?  Ba. 
How happy had I been if he had lived?  Bo. 
who's that which echoes me, playing the wanton  
With my miseries?  Ba. 
I come to see how sorrow does become thee  
Dost thou remember that?  Bo. 
What mak'st thou here, is there no other wrack,  
To work my miseries higher, but thyself,  
And art thou come for that? oh my poor girl.  Ba. 
Monster, behold my poor boy's Picture,  
Thou wouldst not shed a tear, nor lend a sigh,  
Poor emblem of a penitential heart,  
When in these arms I hugged my dead boys' corpses,  
Now monster, who is't will weep or sigh, for thine?  Bo. 
Monster thou troublest me.  Ba. 
Murderer I will.  
See what the fruits of wealth have brought thee now,  
An everlasting scandal to thy name.  
A conscience full of horror, and black deeds;  
Nature's external superfluities  
Her white, and red Earth, rubbish, dross, and oar,  
Which she but lent thee to keep Marts withal,  
Thou hast converted to most gross abuses,  
Thou wouldst not else have scorned my poor boys love,  
To match with wealthy German; see thy fruits,  
Thy bases, and foundations now are sunk,  
And look there lies the ruins of thy works.  Bo. 
Oh misery! my heartstrings crack with grief,  
Yet will not burst, oh say, hast thou yet done?  Ba. 
Noah, I will make thee sensible of thy ills,  
First thou art causer of thy daughter's death,  
For thou enforced her to the breach of faith;  
Next my sons ruin, whom paraced like,  
Thou laughd'st at in his fatal tragedy;  
Whom but a villain that abjures all laws,  
That breaks all precepts, both of heavens, and man's,  
And natures too could have done this; should I  
Like one that dares affront divinity  
Laugh at thy daughter's fall.  Bo. 
Hast thou done yet?  
I do beseech thee for this infant's sake,  
Which sets a smiling brow on miseries,  
And even by instinct, prays thee to forgive,  
Commiserate my woes; it grieves me now  
I did deride thy miseries; be but content  
I'll weep till thou shalt say, it is enough,  
So that we may be friends.  Ba. 
I cannot choose.  
But bear a burden in calamities;  
Our angers have like tapers spent themselves,  
And only lighted others, and not us.  
Striving like great men for supremacy!  
We have confounded one another's goodness,  
Come we will be friends, I'll dig a solemn cell,  
Which shall be hung with sables round about,  
Where we will sit, and write the tragedy  
Of our poor children; I'll ha'it so set down  
As not one eye that views it, but shall weep  
Nor any ear but sadly shall relent,  
For never was a story of more ruth,  
Than this of him, and her, yet nought but truth.  Exeunt Omnes.   


Actus Quintus, Scena Prima.  Enter Arguile, Clifton, Monlucke, Jo. Ball, Miles, Soldiers Mortigue, Doysells, Soldiers on the Walls. Clif. 
After the hand of war has razed your walls,  
Affrighting peace from your Ivory beds,  
And like the reaper with his angry sickle  
Leaves the Earth full of sores, and wounds,  
Yet after plasters her with her own crop;  
So come we after war, bloody turmoils  
To bring you peace, which had you sued before,  
Thousands that now lie bowelled in the earth  
Had lived to memory what we have done.  
Set open your gates, & with spread arms embrace her  
For which as follows ye have articulated,  Mon. 
Which we, Monluck, Bishop of Valence  
Labrosse, Amien's joint commissioners  
For the most christian King, and Queen,  
Francis, and Mary of France, and Scotland,  
Have Confirmed.  Mor. 
Doy. Which, we as duty binds, must obey.  Clif. 
The Articles thus follow, The most mighty Princess Elizabeth by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland Queen, defender of the faith, etc. and the most Christian King, Francis, and Mary, by the same grace King, and Queen of France, and Scotland have bore Record upon a reconciliation of peace, and amity to be inviolably kept between them, their subjects, Kingdoms, and confines; and therefore in their names it is straight commanded to all manner of persons, borne under their obeisances, or being in their services, to lay by all hostility either by Sea or Land, and to keep good peace either with other from this time forwards, as they will answer thereto, at their utmost perils; long live Elizabeth, Francis, and Mary;  Omn. 
Long live Elizabeth, &c.  Mor. 
We much desire to hear the Articles,  
On which this peace stands fully ratified.  Clif. 
They are thirteen in number;  
The principal, and of most effect, are these,  
That the French Soldiers, and all men of war  
Leave the Realm of Scotland in twenty days,  
six score Soldiers, only are excepted,  
Three score of them to remain at Inskeith,  
And three score, at the Castle of Dunbar,  
Their wages to be paid from the estates  
of Scotland; and to live lawful subjects  
To the Laws, and ordinances of that Realm,  
All fortifications in, or, about Leith,  
Which by the French was built, shallbe defaced,  
That France convey not any man of war  
Nor ammunition into this Land,  
Without a free consent in Parliament,  
Of the three estates of these great Kingdoms.  
That Francis, and Mary King, and Queen of France,  
From henceforth bear not the Arms of England  
Which solely appertain to our dread Mistress  
The Queen of England, and to no other.  
These as you hope for peace, you must observe.  Mor. 
We subjects are the hands, Kings are the heads,  
And what the head commands, the hands must act,  
Our barricadoed portals shall fly ope,  
And yield entrance; if warlike Clifton please,  
As we have fought together, so we'll feast,  
Such viands, as a razed Town can yield  
You shall receive; noble sir Francis Leake  
Hath in this manner proclaimed this peace  
On the North-side whom we will gratulate  
Which terms of honour, will it please you enter?  Clif. 
By my halidom we accept your offer;  
Lay by your arms; still after frays come feasts,  
To which we Soldiers, are the welcom'st guests;  
Unbrace our drums, instead of war's Alarms,  Exeunt Omnes. 
we'll meet, like constant lovers, arm in arms  nisi Cross, Bal. Bal. 
See, Joshua, is entered, one cup of brisk Orleans Makes him i'th' temper he was when he leapt into Leene.  Cros. 
Will he be drunk?  Bal. 
Most swinelike, and then by the virtue of his good liquour he's able to convert any Brownistical sister.  Cros. 
An excellent quality!  Bal. 
Nay, in that mood, you shall have him, instead of presenting Pyramus, and Thisbe, personate Cato Censorious, and his three sons, only in one thing he's out, one of Cato's sons hanged himself, and that he refers to a dumb show;  Cros. 
methinks he should hang himself for the jest's sake.  Bal. 
As he did his Cat for killing a Mouse on Sunday, see! he has topped the cannikin already; now will he sing treason familiarly, being sober; ask him why he did it? in sincerity, it was not he, it was his drink.  Enter Joshua, reeling with Jacks. Ios. 
As it is in the painted cloth, in sincerity; good liquour quickens the spirit.  
When from the wars I do return,  
And at a cup of good Ale mourn.  
I le tell how Towns without fire we did burn,  
and is not that a wonder?  Bal. 
That's more than the painted cloth!  Ios. 
I'll tell how that my General,  
Entered the breach, and scaled the wall,  
And made the foremost battery of all,  
and is not that a wonder?  Cros. 
Admirable!  Ios. 
How that we went to take a Fort,  
And took it too in warlike sort  
I'll swear that a lie is a true report,  
and is not that a wonder?  Cros. 
there's wonder in that, Io!  
How that we Soldiers, had true pay,  
And cloth, and vittles every day,  
And never a Captain ran away,  
and is not that a wonder?  Bal. 
Nay, and but six days toth' week.  Ios. 
Is there any man here desires to edify? I am in the humour of converting; I was converted in my drink, and so are most of my brethren; I'll stand while I am able, and then will go sleep on it.  Exit Ios. Bal. 
he's gone both ways; see the French Lords, & ours enter.  Music, Enter. Lord Grey, Clifton, Arguile, attendants Monlucke, Mortigue, Doysells, all embrace. Mon. 
On honourable terms we now embrace.  Gr. 
If what we articled be full performed  Clif. 
They are my Lord in each particular.  
And the French ready to depart the Town,  
By my halidom, they have feasted us.  
Not like to foes but friends, 'tis my wonder,  
That 'a besieged Town could yield such Cates,  
In such extremities, and exigents,  
Full forty several messes, yet not one,  
Either of fish or flesh, only one dish,  
Which was the daintiest, (a powdered horse)  
That, I took notice off.  Gr. 
Large stomachs, and empty salad dishes  
Are the Frenchman's viands; his banquetings,  
Cloys not the stomach, but gives satiety,  
A fresh appetite; that makes the body  
Active, and full of generous fires,  
Full dishes are like potions unto them,  
I know not whether nicety or want;  Clif. 
By my halidom; want, want,  
Give me the English chine, and that feeds men,  
And they that feed well, certainly will fight  
Unless some Wolf, or maw-worm be internate;  Arg. 
I relish your opinion.  Gr. 
Lords of France you may depart at pleasure.  F. Lo. 
Prosperity, and peace ever twixt France, and England.  E. Lo. 
Amen saith England; when France forgets her pride England will honour her,  Gr. 
Come my co-mates in war,  
Our Soldiers instantly shall march for Berwick,  
The Duke of Norfolk, waits their arrival.  
Sir Francis Leake shall give them safe conduct,  
You, Arguile, Clifton, and myself  
With expedition are for Nottingham,  
To meet our peerless princess Elizabeth  
Who in her progress there will lay her Court.  
Arguile shall there receive the hostages  
Due to the federary Lords of Scotland,  
we'll turn war's clangours into music's sweet,  
And like new vested pares in wedlock meet  Exeunt Omnes. Enter, Miles, and Ball. Bal. 
What if it were a Puppet-play?  Mi. 
Absurd! absurd! they'll be out in turning up the white of the eyes, beside, there's none of us can speak i'th' nose.  Bal. 
Yes, Joshua;  Mi. 
Most abominable! wouldst thou have a Puritan speak to a Play; a Puppet Play! thou ought'st to be burned for thy heretical conceit, why thou poisoned souter, wouldst thou have a Puritan speak to a Play? still give me the hobby-Horse.  Bal. 
But who shall play the hobby-Horse, Master Major?  Mi. 
I hope, I look, as like a hobby-Horse as Master Major I have not lived to these years, but a man would think I should be old enough, and wise enough, to play the hobby-Horse, as well as ever a Major on'em all;  Bal. 
Not so, choleric Miles.  Mi. 
Let the Major play the hobby-Horse among his brethren, and he will; I hope our Town Lads cannot want a hobby-Horse, have I practised my Reins my careers, my prankers, my Ambles, my false trots, my smooth Ambles, and Canterbury Paces, and shall Master Major put me besides the hobby-Horse?  Bal. 
Thou wilt not understand me Miles!  Mi. 
I am an ass if I do not; have I borrowed the fore Horsebells his Plumes, and braveries, nay had his mane new shorn, and frizzled, and shall the Major put me besides the hobby-Horse? let him hobby-Horse at home, and he will!  Bal. 
Thou art impatient.  Mi. 
Wooed it not make a man impatient; am I not going to buy ribbons, and toys of sweet Ursula for the Marian, and shall not I play the hobby-Horse?  Bal. 
Why then, let the Major speak the Oration;  Mi. 
Disgraceful, am not I able to make a narration to the Prince, I have played a Major in my time, with as good dacity as e'er a hobby-Horse on'em all; and the Major will prompt me, let him, he shall find, I'll stand out like a man of Coventry.  Bal. 
What shall Joshua do?  Mi. 
Not know of it by any means, he'll keep more stir with the hobby-Horse, than he did with the Pipers at Tedbury Bull-running; provide thou for the Dragon, and leave me for a hobby-Horse.  Ball. 
Fear not, I'll be a fiery Dragon,  Enter Ursula. Mil. 
And I a thundering St. George as ever rode on horseback, but see yonder's sweet Ursula, more white than soot, and blacker than white Snow.  Vrs. 
yonder's my Antagonist; 'a haunts me like a ghost, 'cause I used to make him the prologue to be merry, he forsooth conceits 'tis love sir reverence, why Ursula, Niece Ursula?  Within. Vrs. 
That's my uncle's call, if I stay a little, he'll fetch me in, which if he does, I may perchance harp upon a conceit to beat this parboiled gentleman's love out of my mealy miller's coat.  Sings. Miles. 
You dainty Dames so finely decked  
In beauties to behold,  
And you that trip it up, and down  
Like Lambs in Cupid's fouled,  
Not far from Nottingham of late,  
In Clifton, as I hear  
There dwelled a fair, and comely dame,  
For beauty without peer.  Vrs. 
How now Master Miles, singing!  Mi. 
I Mistress Ursula, a very merry lamentable doleful new Ditty of young Bateman, and his Nan; that ever poor young gentleman should die like a bird on a Tree, for the love to a woman— for here it is in the third staff.  
Her Hair was like the crisped Gold  
Of't times you may perceive,  
The fairest face, the falsest heart,  
And soonest will deceive.  
Mistress Ursula I give you this as a caution to remember Bateman, and his sweet, your cousin, look on me, and view yourself were it not pity I should hang myself for love; and that you should die none knows how?  
Why Ursula, Niece Ursula.  Within. Vrs. 
Alas! what shall we do? if my uncle comes, he'll take thee for a Ghost, his brain is so fraught with distempers, and then falls he raging mad,  Mi. 
Will he not strike?  
Why Ursula, Niece Ursula:  Within. Vrs. 
Sometimes he will, so after your fit is over, I'll prescribe a remedy against love.  Enter Boot i''ns shirt. Bo. 
Passion on passion! am I grown old, and odious in your eyes? what no attendance Mistress!  Vrs. 
Oh Lo-oooord sir;  Bo. 
What ails thee woman, what's the matter? ha! why dost thou quake, shake, tremble, and shiver? ha!  Vrs. 
Oh there, there, there!  Bo. 
Be'st thou the devil, I will talk with thee;  Mi. 
Ha, ha, no fool to th'old one, he takes me for a Ghost;  Bo. 
Art thou of air, of earth, heaven or hell,  
Or art thou of some Incubuses breed?  
Is there more walking Batemans? answer me,  
Or I will beat thy carcase into a form  
That is full substantial, and has feeling,  
Seeing, hearing, smelling, and sweet-tasting, Ghost, I'll thunder thee;  Mi. 
Oh, ho, Master Boot, Master Boot.  Bo. 
I; can the devil feel or, is he sensible of beating?  
What art thou! hast thou feeling?  Mi. 
ay, and hearing, and seeing too; and you'll let me alone I'll tell you what I am;  Bo. 
Ghost, I'll confine thee;  Mi. 
'Las sir I'm no Ghost, I am plain honest Miles the Miller of Ruddington; a gentleman, and a Soldier,  Bo. 
And Miles the Miller of Ruddington gentleman, and Soldier what make you here?  Mi. 
Alas sir to borrow a few ribbands, bracelets, earrings wiretires, and silk girdles, and handkerchers for a Morris, and a show before the Queen.  Bo. 
Miles you came to steal my Niece.  Mi. 
Oh Lord sir; I came to furnish the hobby-horse.  Bo. 
Get into your hobby-horse, gallop, and be gone then, or I'll morris-dance you— Mistress wait you on me.  Exit. Urs 
Farewell good hobby-horse— wee-hee—  Exit. Mil. 
'Tis but a jade's trick Mistress Ursula; but patience the enemy to greatness is my content, and in that humour I will forage on like the hobby-Horse.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Major Aldermen attendants, Queen, and Lords attendants. Qu. 
Master Major!  
We thank you for your entertainment,  
And for your princely present, a cup of gold!  
In gratefulness we back return the keys  
With all the emblems of your government;  
We in our progress, are a sojourner,  
Not an inhabitant, we will be so with you;  
A welcome fuller of bounty, virtue, love,  
We have not seen; therefore to gratulate  
As a small token of our princely love,  
On, to your former motion made for Trent.  
You'd have it navigable to Gainsborough  
So to Boston, Kingston, Humber, and Hull;  
But, what are the causes?  Ma. 
By St. Lucy Bess, I am a plain honest Tanner, my brothers here, one a Shoemaker, tother a fell-monger, we are all down right toth' th'hide; I ha' no lawyer's eloquence, our Recorder cannot whistle, but by the bones of sweet St. Lucy welcome, on welcome.  Qu. 
I have tasted your welcome, and would fain  
Grant your design, so you give reason.  Ma. 
By St. Lucy, and shall, else i'm an ass, and my brethren Dotterels, Give reason, brother Sheepskin, second me for I must speak Historiography, History I should say, but these hard words cloy my stomach, like lumps of Bacon.  Qu. 
you're a merry man Master Major.  Ma. 
I were a Traitor else, I wooed not be merry with thee, Bess still welcome, and welcome;  Qu. 
On, to your Charter.  Ma. 
Thus it was,  
Edward the first from whom we bear our arms,  
Three Crowns displayed in an Azure field,  
First, 'gan to make our River navigable,  
Small barks it bore, but not of that full weight,  
That were transportable for our affairs,  
In the two Edward's the second, and third,  
Unto the second Richard it continued  
Till Bolingbroke began! then Harry the fift,  
And Percy fell at odds; in which division,  
Dividing of the land; Glendower began  
To stop the watercourses of flowing Trent,  
By that means our navigable course was stopped,  
And where before we usually transported  
With things un-numerous from Hull to us!  
And in return relieved the neighbour coast,  
With fuel, and commodities of great use.  
As Wool, Lead, Corn, fruits, and Iron;  
We now have neither; but with double cost,  
This is the cause why we entreat your Grace  
To sign our patent, and by St Lucy, Bess;  
we'll pray for thee, and that's thy full reward.  Qu. 
You shall enjoy your wishes;  Enter. Grey, Clifton, Arguile. Omnes: 
Long live Elizabeth;  Qu. 
We thank you;  
Welcome renowned john of Wilton,  
And you the war like Heroes of his train,  
Warlike Clifton; fame has been before thee,  
And with her shrill Trump sent your praises home,  
ere your arrival; rise noble John of Wilton;  
The only champion of Elizabeth.  Gr. 
Peace, and prosperity guard your sacred throne,  
And make your foes submissive like the French;  
Leith is surrendered, the French quite expulsed;  
The Scotch inhabiting their native bounds,  
Whom we have found most loyal to your Grace,  
And therefore they require their hostages  
Due to the federary Scottish Lords.  Qu. 
And they shall have them; welcome bold Arguile,  
Thank thou the god of battles, that hast given  
Prosperity to our first enterprise,  
Being the first battle that we ever waged,  
Linked victory unto a virgin's arm,  
For which we render thee all attributes,  
Guarded by thee, and these our loving subjects,  
We fear no Spanish force, nor Frenchmen's braves,  
Let Austria brag; and Rome, and Italy  
Send out their poisoned Darts; dreadless we stand  
Protected by thy never failing power,  
Lord Grey, return you governor of Berwick,  
The Duke of Norfolk, for some special causes  
We must recall; Arguile shall have his pledges,  
We but reserved them to preserve ourselves,  
Clifton; be thou our deputy Lieutenant,  
And Lord warden of Nottingham Castle,  
ourself willbe Lieutenant of the County.  
For Howard, Pelham, Leake, and all the rest  
That in this victory shared with dangers,  
They shall participate our princely loves,  Omnes: 
Heavens bless your Majesty.  Qu. 
I know not how to dignify your deeds  
Without a large premeditation;  
Grey, and Clifton, Clifton, and warlike Grey  
Fought for our father, brother, and sister  
At Dennis, Rouen, Bullen, and at Callice  
The bloody sweat that Muslborough bred  
At Edinburgh, and now again at Leith,  
In all which we fortunately conquered,  
Thanks unto heaven, next your valiant hands.  Clif. 
Your Majesty begets a spring of youth  
In me an old decayed Tree of age,  
Worn with as many snowy winter's storms,  
As makes the brawny Oak grow sapless,  
Leafless withered, Time's period is ruin,  
Yet by my life, my heart retains 'its vigour.  
And what we want in deeds, we'll act in duty,  
To you the Sovereign mistress of our hearts.  Qu. 
Master Maior, and noble john of Wilton,  
And warlike Clifton with all your men of war  
We this night do invite you, for our guests,  
To sup with us; tomorrow we'll survey  
The underminings, and unpaced greise  
That Mortimer, and Isabell did devise  
To steal their sportive dalliancies in,  
Of whom your stately fortress does retain  
The Labyrinth (now called Mortimers hole)  
Heaven for our victory we first will pay,  
And praise our subjects that redeemed the day,  
Proud France, and poisoning Spain, if heaven us bless  
A virgin's arm shall quell your mightiness.  Omnes: 
Long life attend your Majesty.  Exeunt Omnes. 
FINIS. W. S.