Cupid's Whirligig.  
As it hath been sundry times Acted by the Children of the king's majesty's Revels.  
LONDON. Imprinted by E. Allde, and are to be sold by Arthur johnson, at the sign of the white Horse, near the great North door of Saint Paul's Church. 1607.   


The Actors names.  
The Old Lord Nonsuch.  
Alderman Venture. A Merchant  
Sir Timothy Troublesome. a jealous Knight  
The Lady Troublesome. The jealous knight's wife  
Master Correction. The Pedant  
Mistress Correction. The Midwife  
Peg. The Lady Troublesomes Kinswoman  
Nan. Old Venter's Daughter.  
Nucome. The Welsh Courtier  
Boy. Nucome's Page  
The four Scholars.  
The young Lord Nonsuch 

a Begging Soldier.  
Slack.  
a swaggering captain.    
Master Exhibition, The Inns-a-Court man.    

To his much honoured, beloved, respected, and judicial friend. Master Robert Hayman.  
SIR, I must needs discharge two Epistles upon you the one the Readers, that should be like hail shot, that scatters and strikes a multitude, the other dedicatory, like a bullet, that aims only at yourself: if either do strike you, it shall be at your choice, whether I shall hit you in the head, to let you understand my meaning, or in the heart, to make you conceive my love: yet I must confess, I had rather express my love out of the flint, than my meaning in any part of the shot. I aim at you rather than the Reader, because since our travails I have been pregnant with desire to bring forth something whereunto you may be witness, and now being brought a-bed if you please to be Godfather, I doubt not but this child shall be well maintained, seeing he cannot live above an hour with you, and therefore shall entreat you, when he is dead, he may be buried deep enough in your good opinion, and he shall deserve this Epitaph:  
Here lies the Child, who was borne in mirth, against the strict rules of all Childbirth: and to be quit, I gave him to my friend, Who laughed him to death, and that was his end.  
Yours while he is his own: E: S   

The Prologue  
Our author's Pen, loves not to swim in blood,  
He dips no Ink, from out black Acheron:  
Nor sucks invention, from the depth of hell,  
Nor crosseth Seas to get a foreign plot.  
He taxes no Goddesses for foulest lust,  
Nor doth disclose the secret scapes of jove:  
He rips not up the horrid maw of hell,  
To show foul treasons hideous ugly face.  
Nor doth he touch the falls of mighty Kings,  
No ancient History, no shepherds love.  
No statesman's life, no power of death he shows.  
He only strives with mirth to please each one,  
Since laughter is peculiar unto man.  
and being sure, freely to speak can be no sin,  
If honest words have honest construing.  
Therefore to fly the least cause of offence,  
He only finds but words, you find the sense:  
Wherefore, if aught unto your ear taste tart,  
Thank but yourselves, which good to ill convert,  
Yet this he ought, hath strictly charged me say:  
That he's a slave, and of a base condition,  
That doth but draw it to suspicion.  
That here he privately taxeth any man,  
Since all the world yields vice to play upon.  
What he intends, action shall make you know,  
I should forestall the play, should I but show.   

Cupid's Whirligig.  


The Scene in London.  Enter Cupid. 
WIth feathered speed I pierced the Air,  
The clouds asunder I did tear,  
And thus with wings and bow come I  
Newly from jove's high Court in sky.  
My mother kissed me at our parting,  
But did charge me leave my darting,  
And with a strict command did say,  
Boy, on a Whirligig go play.  
But such a round i'll make him run,  
As he shall end, where first begun.  
My scourge-sticks shall be made of Darts,  
Feathered with sighs of lovers hearts.  
Which made them fly with swiftest flight,  
As lightning in tempestuous night.  
My scourge itself, are golden tresses,  
More richer far than chains of Esses.  
With which i'll make some dance a jig,  
More rounder yet then ere did Gig.  
But time doth call me to be gone,  
Yet first to all you lookers on,  
Before I part, I thus much tell,  
That Gods can go invisible.  
And though you do not all times eye me,  
Yet know at all times, I am by ye.  
And be assured, and do not think  
But that you stand full near the brink  
Of my displeasure: which if ye win,  
In love i'll make ye sink or swim.  
Thus farewell all, sit patient yet a while,  
lest Cupid make yourselves, yourselves beguile.  Enter the old Lord Nonsuch Alderman Venture, Sir Timothy Troublesome. Venter. 
MY Lord, you know yourself and I have long lived friends, and shall we now with firm affection knit? tie fast our friendship in our offsprings love, convey our cares in one, our goods together, and our loves in them, and whiles the remnant of our aged days do last, let's doff all discontents, cast by the worlds encumbers, and leave the careful burden of keeping that, was care enough to get upon the youthful hope of their more able strength.  Old Lord. 
O Neighbour Venture, do you not know that to marry a Child, is but to mar a man? for he that cuts a tender twig in springing, both mars his length and spoils his growing: my son shall first see twenty years of age, before my condescent shall once be given to make him father of a son: Besides, your daughter yet is very young: and though in Women's sex 'tis always seen, desire to marriage rides always in post; yet in their Inn repentance is their host: the fault of this is always known to be, through foolish husbands: or such as are too young, for Children to their wives are like fruit half ripe, they yield no taste, nor give no sweet delight.  Enter the young Lord. Ven. 
Behold, here comes my young Lord, the very model of yourself, the Vigour of your youth, and strength of all your future hopes.  Old Lord. 
And he is welcome, what sudden gust (my Son) in haste hath blown thee hither, and made thee leave the Court, where so many earth-treading stars adorns the sky of state? or as the summer's speckled flowery garment is spread about the seat of Majesty? what is the reason thou hast left this earthly Paradise, to visit us before our expectation?  Young Lord. 
My love dear Father (to your fair wife) hath made my hours of absence from this place, seem tedious years, I could not but return from whence I came, as like to man, the which of clay was framed, at first did walk a while upon the earth, but in the end returned to dust; or like a River, which through the earth doth draw his life and spring from out the sea. Thus I that from you sprung, have run my course awhile, but now as to my sea, return to you again.  Old Lord. 
Thy answer with thy wisdom hath enriched thy welcome: dear friends, I pray you set your hands to this my deed.  Exit old Lord. Ven. 
I do my Lord, with all devoted love.  Exit. Ven. Kni. 
And I which hate my wife his mistress: his welcome home, will breed my ill at home, I breed my horns as Children teeth, with sickness and with pain: and yet I will with as smooth a face as my wife will give me leave, make show of welcome. Sir, I much rejoice to see you, and doubt not, but ere long, you'll come & see where my poor house doth stand.  Young Lo. 
Or else I were unworthy of your love if I neglect the visitation of so kind friends as yourself and my dear mistress.  
Visitation! my wife's not sick, what visitation? 'tis I am ill, 'tis the horn plague I have, I am sure that's not God's visitation, yet they are the Lords tokens, for he hath sent them me: but marry when you will, i'll try and you be a Chandler, i'll see if you'll take your own tokens again: well, but in the mean time, I am marked for death, yet he'll be in the pit before me. O that I should be a Cuckold! a creature of the last edition, and yet of the old print.  Enter Wages. Wag. 
O sir, What make you here, when there's a gallant Gentleman newly come from Court, talking within with my Lady.  Kni. 
Yet more Courtiers, more Gallants, more Gentlemen? now in a hundred thousand horned devils names, what makes 'a there? what is a gone to bed to your Lady? doth a Cuckold me in mine own house, in mine own chamber? nay in mine own Sheets? what he's come to visit her to, is a not, ha? But let me see, I have now found out a trick to know if my wife make me a Cuckold, I will geld myself, & then if my wife be with child, I shall be sure I am a Cuckold, that will do brave i'faith, God a mercy brain.  Enter Lady and Newcome. La. 
Sir, I am sorry that I cannot with that free scope of friendly entertainment, give welcome to your worth, because a jealous spirit haunts my husband, which doth disturb us all, this devil hath long vexed him, and he as long vexed me, & were I not composed of more than of an ordinary female spirit, the burden of his wrongs would tire me quite.  They meet and justle. 
Sir, this is my husband.  Nuc. 
I cry ye mercy sir, I did not see ye.  Kni. 
A man would think ye saw me, for I am sure ye have hit me right enough.  pointing to his brows. Nuc. 
I pray sir be not angry, I have not any way offended you, nor would—  Kni. 
Nay, nay, though I be, ye may be friends again with me in spite of my teeth, for look ye sir: my wife and I are but one, and then though I fall out with you, you may fall in with her.  Nuc. 
Sir, I come not to offend you, nor—  Kni. 
Nay, nay, ye may, ye may i'faith, ye may, my wife is charitable, and would be glad by such a means to make us friends.  Nuc. 
Sir, then know, I scorn my eyes should stand as witnesses unto your ladies' wrongs, and let you go unpunished: slight see a sweet Lady abused!  He draws his sword. Lad. 
Sir you shall not touch him, husband you are to blame, your madness makes you much forget your manners, and wrongs my his birth, to make me the only cankered, and worm eaten branch that sprung out of my fafathers noble stock. No, no, know that the tree from which I grew, brought forth good fruit to all, not bad to you: but hence forth i'll shake hands with mirth; and entertain a careless humour: for look ye sir, the Devil gives this jealousy to man, as nature doth a tail unto a Lion, which thinks in heat to beat away the Flies, when he doth most enrage himself with it: but come sir, will ye be my servant, my cipher, my shadow, or indeed any thing?  Nue. 
Your shadow if you please, and you my substance.  Lady. 
With all my heart.  Kni. 
ay, I warrant her with all her heart, and now must be do as all shadows do, when night comes, creeps into the substance.  Lad. 
Say 'a do, doye here husband, I hear do vow before all the watchful guard of heaven, that I have lived as true unto thy bed, & chaste unto thy love, as ere was Turtle to her mate: but hence forth ceremonious custom shall not curb me of delight, let her be bridled by opinion, whose weak desires cannot break her rains: for my part, i'll make you know my will is like a flint, smooth and cold, but being hardly strooken, sparkles forth fire even in the strikers eyes: I am ashamed that I have said thus much, yet I may lawfully speak, for why? come sir, will ye walk? the proverb says, give losers leave to talk.  Exeunt Lady and Newcome. Kni. 
O wages, wages, O honest wages! what other Gallants come to your Lady in my absence?  Wag. 
Truly sir, sometimes there comes a proper young Gentleman one Master Woodlie.  Kni. 
Would lie! with whom would he lie good Wages?  Wag. 
Why with my Lady sir, and he could get her good will: but he is a Gentleman I can assure ye sir, for he walks always in boots, but in troth his gentility is something decaying, his boots are on their deathbed, for their souls are upon parting, and I think he be a Soldier too, for his sword and his hangers are more worth than all his clothes, and 'a is a very proper man, for he is as tall as one of the Guard, and he will come sometimes and take my Lady by the hand, and pump for wit half an hour together.  Kni. 
How dost mean, pump, ha!  Wag. 
Why sir, thus he will take my Lady by the hand, and wring it half an hour together, and say nothing.  Kni. 
Is that pumping for wit?  Wag. 
O sir I, for he that wrings a fair Lady by the hand, and says nothing, doth but pump for wit, that's certain.  Kni. 
A most witty exposition, of what years.  Wag. 
Faith sir he's indeed a man of no ears, for 'a hath been on the pillary.  Kni. 
But what makes the crop-eared stallion with my wife then?  Wag. 
Alas nothing but lies with her, and she lies with him, would you have any more?  Kni. 
More! no, too much by heaven, nay then 'twas past suspicion, past doubt, past jealousy, is not my hairs turned all to horns? am I not a monstrous and deformed Beast? my wife's a Goddess (though not Diana) she can transform: I branch wages, I branch, do I not? am not I a goodly screen for men to hang their hats upon.  Wag. 
Why sir? ye are no Cuckold:  Kni. 
No? no Cuckold? he lies with your Lady, and your Lady lies with him, yet I am no cuckold.  Wag. 
Why no, give me but attention, and with a word i'll wipe away your horns.  Knight 
No, no, words are too weak to wipe them off, when deed have put them on.  Wag, 
But hear me sir.  Kni: 
with open ears to swallow comfort.  Wag. 
I met my Lady and he fast by the Garden wall, & asking for your jealous worship, they both replied you were not jealous, this spoke they both together: in this, you know they both did lie together, and yet made you no cuckold.  Kni. 
Ha! mean'st so?  Wag. 
even so indeed sir.  Kni. 
Nay, than I cry ye mercy wife, i'faith she yet may chance be honest.  Wag. 
O sir, very honest as a pretty Sempstress, or a poor waiting Gentlewoman.  Kni. 
Well Wages, if I be a Cuckold—  Wag. 
Why sir, what will ye do if ye be?  Kni. 
What will I do? i'll make it known, for I will be a Citizen, and so be a Subject for Poets, and a slave to my own wife, therefore follow me Wages, I will do't.  Exeunt omnes. Enter the Lady alone. Lad. 
O grief! how thou tormentest me, it dwells in mine eyes, feasts on my blood: swims in my tears, and lodges in my heart. O heaven! have I deserved this plague? O Husband! why shouldst thou use me thus? was not my behaviour unto thee as soft as Down, as smooth as polished crystal, I and my love as clear? was I not like a handmaid, even obedient to thy very thoughts? did not my nuptial duty like a shadow follow the very turning of thine eye? Oh! thou once didst love me, but thy love was too hot, and like to self consuming fire, it burned out, and how soon, 'tis turned to cold ashes, & therefore henceforth i'll seem jealous of him: for since all endeavours fail, i'll now try if jealousy can drive out jealousy: and here is fit occasion for to work upon: Why how now Husband, wooing of another wife before my death, whence comes this? in my conscience 'tis a plague that Cupid hath lain upon me for sleeping cross-legged in your absence. What, are ye grown as weary of your wife as of a foul shirt? must ye be changing?  Peg. 
Good madam be patient.  La. 
Patient! no, you are his patient, and he is your Physician, a minister's to ye (with a Morbus Gallicus take ye both) I pray forsooth let me be your Butler, and scrape your Trenchers, since I am already feign to live of your leavings.  Kni. 
Woman, art jealous?  La. 
I.  Kni. 
Why?  La. 
Because you give me cause: but man are you jealous?  Kni. 
I.  La. 
why?  Kni. 
Because thou givest me cause.  La. 
'tis false.  Kni. 
True, false, thou hast been false indeed, abused my bed, infected even my very blood, and made it grow to hard impostumes on my brows: hast thou not wanton, changed naked embracements with strangers? abused thy nuptial vow? hath not thy unsatiate womb, brought forth the bastardy of lust to call me father? but i'll abandon thee, disclaim that, and hate ye both.  Nue. 
doye hear me sir, upon my conscience you do wrong your Lady.  Kn. 
If I wrong her, you'll do her right, I bear a blow of yours, the which I never felt, you are like a man's tailor that works with open shop for the Husband, but if you chance to do any thing for the wife, you must do it inwards, inwards! you are a good workman, I must needs say't: you have fitted my wives body, how sa'y wife, has 'a not?  La. 
Not, but you can even in my sight cast amorous glances on others: you have forsook my bed, abhorred my presence, and like a man past grace and shame, strut like a pimp before a wanton feather waging minks at high noon: beside, did not I find thee kissing of thy Maid?  Kni. 
Did not I find thee in private conference with my horsegroom?  Lad. 
Didst thou not offer thy maid a new gown, for a night's lodging?  Kni. 
Didst not thou give a Diamond to the Butler?  Lad. 
Didst not thou send a bowed Angel to thy Laundress Daughter?  Kni. 
No 'tis false.  Lad. 
Yes, 'tis true, and then when I told thee on't, thou sworest 'twas out of charity, because the Wench was poor, her Father an honest man, and her Mother a painful woman: for these and these causes you were kind unto the Daughter, great whilst I was contented to believe, because I was unwilling, like a faint hearted Soldier to look of mine own wounds, until I saw thou daily woundst my love anew, and slew'st thine one reputation.  Kni. 
Art mad?  Lad. 
No, but a little jealous like you, I will no longer maintain thy, sanguine sin, sooth lust with patience, nor in broken singing language flatter thy folly, as sweet heart do not wander: for I do love thee dear as doth a Goose her Gander: a Goose indeed for if aught but a Goose, I should a sought revenge for wrongs.  Kni. 
What art drunk?  La. 
No, for I have sufficient reason, too much knowledge, and sense enough to feel my wrongs: why should we women be slaves to your imperfections? have we not souls of one metal, are we not as free borne as you? are we not all Adam's Offspring? did not you fall as well with him as we, and shall we be still kept down and you rise?  Kni. 
Dost hear? ye are a sort of uncertain giddy wavering, tottering tumbling creatures, your affections are like yourselves, and yourselves like your affections, up & down, like the tucks on your Petticoats, which you let fall and take up as occasion serves: I have seen of your sex fall in love with a man, for wearing a handsome Rose on his shoe: another fall into the passion of the heart, to see a man untie his point, to make water: a third fall into the shaking Ague for eating a body cherry with two stones, and yet you'll 'be fellows, even with the very image of your maker: but wilt let me alone, and i'faith i'll be quiet.  La. 
alone! faith no.  Kni. 
Then i'll leave thee, since I know 'tis folly beyond madness, to make her pleasure cause of my sadness.  Exit. Knight. Nue. 
Believe it Lady, this was well done, and like a Lady of a high birth: make your husband know his advancement.  La. 
O shadow, shadow, I would have you know I would not wrong him for all the seas drowned riches: for if my heart of blood should do it as he supposeth it doth, even that blood would like a traitor write my faults with blushing red upon my cheeks: but because I (as all women and Courtiers do) love good clothes which his eyes wear, yet he upbraids me, swearing 'tis to please the multitude, and that I spread gay rags about me like a net to catch the hearts of strangers: if I go poor, than he swears I am beastly, with a loathed sluttishness: if I be sad, than I grieve he is so near: if merry, and with a modest wantonising kiss Embrace his Love, then are my twistings more dangerous than a snake's, my lust more unsatiate than was Messalina's: Yet this from jealousy doth always grow. What most they seek they loath'st of all would know. But now to you dear x, forgiveness let me ask, and pardon for my feigned jealousy, and take but thus much of my counsel. Marry not in haste, for she that takes the best of Husbands, puts but on a golden fetter, for husbands are but like to painted fruit, which promise much, but still deceives us when we come to touch: if you match with a Courtier, he'll have a dozen mistresses at least, and repent his marriage within four and twenty hours at most, swearing a wife is fit for none but an old justice or a country Gentleman. If ye marry a Citizen (though ye live never so honest) yet ye shall be sure to have a Cuckold to your Husband. If a Lawyer, the neatness of his clerk will draw in question the good carriage of his wife. If a Merchant, he'll be venturing abroad, when 'a might deal a great deal more safe at home: therefore come x come, let's home, and this take of me, That amongst the best there's none good, all ill: she's married best that's: wedded to her will.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter the Young Lord. Young Lo. 
They say Cupid is a boy, yet I have known him confute the opinion of all your Phylosphers: for they hold every light thing tends directly up: but I think all know he makes every light wench, fall directly down. Well I am sure 'a hath knocked me with his bird bolt, for the which Venus give him correction; for I do already love a Lady of an incomparable delicacy, but she's another man's, and will shut her ears as close to keep out charms, as great men do their gates, to keep in alms. Yet I have no reason to despair, for I have kissed her, and the French proverb says, Fame baissee est demi ioyee, a woman kissed is half enjoyed: but I fear he means but the upper half.  
I have here a Letter must work a strange thing, and yet no miracle, it must make a Lady love her friend better than her own husband.  Enter Wagas. Wag. 
Save ye my Lord.  Lor. 
O Wages! what Tennis-ball has fortune taken thee for, to toss thee thus into my way?  Wag. 
I hope ye will not strike me into any hazard of my life though.  Lor. 
But what's the news my Lad, what's the news? how doth Sir timothy Troublesome, that jealous knight thy Master.  Wag. 
Why sir, 'a doth with his wife like a cowardly Captain in a town of Garrison, fears every assault, trembles at the battery, and doubts most, least the gates should be opened, and his enemy let in at midnight.  Lor. 
Now in the name of destiny who fears 'a?  Wag. 
O sir, next to you self, none so much as your Courtier, for even with venomed Breath, 'a speaks of them: for saith he, have but a suit to one of them, & they are like Jordans, which though ye open the Floodgates of your bounty, and fill them to the very brim, yet they'll always stand gaping for more.  Lor. 
But dost thou think his Lady honest?  Wag. 
As woman's flesh may be.  Lor. 
But she has been a Courtier, and therefore knowing most good, methinks she would commit least ill.  Wag. 
O sir, I will not but with sanctified and hallowed thoughts, touch sinthia's brightest beams, whom all eyes do adore, and hearts do worship: where purest chastity doth shine in spotless robes of splendent majesty, where nature emulating heaven to make her even as fair as she is virtuous, but yet I well could wish, you know that in the sky of Court are many stars, the which at midnight shoot and fall.  Lor. 
True, through most of the twelve signs, for they shoot from their Husbands at Aries (which governs the head) and fall at Scorpio, and so indeed they shoot from top to tail: but honest Wages, will ye bind me to y'.  Wag. 
I think sir 'twill not be so much for your health, as if I should keep you sollable.  Lor. 
I mean in courtesy good Wages.  Wag. 
O the the very name of good Wages, will make a servingman do any courtesy.  Lor. 
Then be friend me thus, deliver this Letter to your lady's own hand, with as much secrecy as ye may, and take this for your employment.  Wag. 
As secret as she that sells complexion: none but the chambermaid shall know it.  Exeunt at two doors.   


Actus secundus Scena prima.  Enter Lady alone with a Letter. 
YE have your eyes like sun-glasses, catched the heat of my beauty, & cast it on your own heart, and doth your sighs like bellows, make it more inflamed? then spend your tears to quench it, for my chaste bloods honour shall never do it. Lust, it's like an over-swollen river, that breaks beyond all bounds: it's a Devil bred in the blood, nursed in desire, & like a salamader lives in a continual fire: it sprouteth larger than the ivy, which embraceth, twisteth and entangleth every one within his reach, & makes no choice betwixt the goodliest cedar & the stinkingst Elder: it's a foul usurper on the name of love, and reigns with greater domination then an Emperor: it's a very leprous Itch, it stains, and leaves a fouler spot upon the soul than tears can wash away: but my chaste thoughts shall watch mine honour: i'll muster up my prayers to fight against temptation: shall I that have been a commander of myself, now prove a slave to sin? No, no, my mounting thoughts do soar too high a pitch to stoop to any stranger's lure. Say that a peevish Fly entangled were within my never-shorn tresses, should I to save his life, cut and deform me of so rich an ornament? What though the Lord Nonsuch within my love entangled be, must my honour now be clipped to set him free? No, no, my saw is this and ever shall: he that on hope doth climb doth often fall. But what shall I do? 'a writes here a will come: wit of a Woman now assist me, O apron strings be now auspicious, for here's my Husband, something I must do: I ha''t.  Enter Knight. Kni. 
Now fair mistress: this is strange to find you here alone:  La. 
Not alone, but environed and accompanied.  Kni. 
With what?  La. 
With many heart-biting thoughts, which like Actaeon's hounds have almost slain myself, yet now my constancy shall prove a glass, in which yourself shall see your own errors: the Lord Nonsuch which you have long suspected, with unrebated edge of lust, hath aways sought, (I must confess) to cut my very reputation's throat, & this night—  Kni. 
This night?  La. 
I this night, but hear me husband:  Kni. 
No no, cuckold me, kill me with grief, do, do, & when I am dead marry him: 'a has made you a jointer already of Breech down: well wife well, I married you out of the Country, but you have learned the City fashions already: I am a Cuckold, I am, but ignorance that I was to marry thee so young, not being able scarce to put thine own apparel on.  La. 
I was the fitter for a Husband, ye might then ha' been sure to have taken me a-bed at all times,  Kni. 
True, so might other men too.  La. 
No, ye are deceived husband, other men never lie with a man's wife but when she is ready for them, but to the purpose: this night have I promised the Lord Nonsuch 'a shall enjoy my love, for which cause he will send a certain Pander before, for fear you stand a rock in his way, on which all his hopes will suffer shipwreck. Now this same Panderly pilate shall be by you bribed to stand sentinel, and give the watchword when 'a comes, that you may then punish him, either with death or fear.  Kni. 
O shallow and womanish invention, as if he would betray his master.  La. 
Tut money often times corrupts a good, disposition and makes a knave ride post to hell.  Kni. 
But is this true? art honest indeed? come hither, dost love me, dost? nay but tell me true, dost?  La. 
Or else in hatred let me ever live.  Kni. 
Do not flatter me, I scarce believe thee, thou never kissest me but with such an affection, as a young wife doth an old husband wringing her lips, and making a mouth as if she were taking a Potion.  La. 
You distaste me much sir.  Kni. 
Dost not distats me too sometimes, tell me true?  La. 
Nothing but your jealousy.  Kni. 
Well prithee forgive me and let's go, but i'll so swinge my Lord a whoreson otter, i'll teach him fish in other men's ponds.  Exeunt omnes. Enter Young Nonsuch and Wages. Lor. 
Did you deliver my Letter?  Wag. 
With secrecy.  Lor. 
To herself?  Wag. 
Her own hands.  Lor. 
Made she any answer?  Wa. 
Not any.  Lor. 
What other news then rides on the back of report?  Wag. 
Why they say sit that mistress Correction the Midwife is turned hermaphrodite.  Lor. 
Why Hermaphrodit?  Wag. 
Why sir, she is become a Midwife, for as your hermaphrodit hath two members the one to beget, the other to bring forth, so hath your Midwife too means, the one to bring you to beget, the other to bring it forth when 'tis begotten: and look you sir, hear she appears upon her Q.  Enter Mistress Correction. Lor. 
O prithee do thou board her as she passes by.  Wag. 
Who I board her? by this light I dare not.  Lor: 
Then I will: fairly met fair Mistress.  Mrs.: Cor. 
Indeed forsooth I have been, by my truth I see he is a fine spoken man.  Lor: 
whereabouts is your house fair Lady?  Mist. Cor. 
Here fast by sir, not above a couple of stone's cast off.  Wag. 
What Gentlewomen have ye at home?  Mist. Cor. 
O Master Wages, how doye? faith sir I have nobody at home but mistress Punckit, you know her well.  Lor. 
What's she?  Mr. C. 
Truly sir a very courteous Gentlewoman, & she loves to act in as clean linen as any Gentlewoman of her function about the town, and truly that's the reason that your sincere Puritans cannot abide to wear a surplice, because they say 'tis made of the same thing that your villainous sin is committed in, as your most profane holland.  Wag. 
Pray when was Master Wrestler of the Guard at your house?  Mi. Co. 
Who he? in troth Mi. Punckit cannot abide him, she swears 'a looks for all the world like the Dominical Letter in his red Coat: no Master Wages no, I can tell ye I have other manner of Guests come to my house then he: I have Pensioners, and Gentlemen Ushers, Knights, Captains and Commanders, Lieutenants, and Ancients, voluntary Gentlemen, ay, & men that wear their cloaks lined through with velvet; I entertain no Mutton eating Inns o' court men, no half lined cloak Citizens: nor flat capped Prentices, no, the best come to my house, Master newcome the Courtier was there the other day, and truly he would have had some dealing with Mi. Punckit, but that he had no siller: and yet I must needs say't, 'a would ha' put her in very good obscurity, for a brought a Gentleman with him that would ha' given his word in a consumption of twenty pound, that 'a should ha' paid her at next meeting, and truly but that her trade stands so much upon present payment, and partly for mortalities sake, I think else she would ha' taken it, and yet before a went, I must needs say't, a showed himself like an honest Gentleman and a Courtier, for a left his Periwig in pawn: but had you seen how a looked, for all the world like an Ostriches egg, with a face drawn of the one side.  Lord 
What other guests have ye?  Mi. Cor. 
There comes master Exhibition of the Inns a court very often, and Master Angel-taker the counsellor comes sometimes, but Mistress Punckit doth so jest with him, she swears to him as she hopes to be saved, and I may tell you sir, there's great hope on't, for truly she useth just and upright dealing with every man, but as I said, as she hopes to be saved, she would not marry him of all the men in the world.  Lor. 
No, why?  Mi. Cor. 
Because she says that Lawyers are like Trumpeters, they sell their breath.  Lor. 
she's a fool tell her, the Lawyers are the pillars of the Realm.  Mist. Cor. 
Yes forsooth so I said but she said they were not only the Pillars but the Polers also, but I pray you sir of what profession are you?  Lor. 
Faith of none Gentlewoman, only a young gallant as you see.  Mi, Cor. 
A young Gallant, say you i'faith, i'll quickly try that by and by, doye hear sir, doye hear?  Putting her hand to her purrsse. Lor 
What say you Gentlewoman?  Mi. Cor. 
I pray can you give me ten shillings for a piece of gold.  Lor. 
Yes that I can.  Mi. Cor. 
O sir, O sir, I perceive you are no gallant i'faith, it would go deep my friend, I may tell you for a young gallant to change three groats for a shilling, & 'twere great fish, I may tell you too, to Angle for in a gallants great hose.  Lor. 
Hold mistress, spend that for my sake, and it shall not be long ere I will come and visit your house.  Mrs.: Cor. 
I thank your worship, sir, i'll be so bold as to take my deliverance out of your company.  Lor. 
Farewell.  Wag. 
God be with you mistress Correction.  Mist. Cor. 
The like to you good Master Wages, but do you hear sir, I hope if your worship come to my house, if there be nobody at home but myself, though I am an old woman, yet I hope your worship will not despise age.  Lor. 
No, no, fear not that.  Mist. Cor. 
I thank ye heartily sir.  Lor. 
With all my heart, Wages farewell, and bring but an answer of my letter; and I will be thy paymaster, not thy debtor.  Exeunt. Enter Nuecome, Wages and Peg. Peg: 
I understand so much by your name good Master Newcome.  Nan: 
And I am in grace too Lady, what my souls sweet secretary! you are fairly met indeed, how doth old Venter thy father?  Nue: 
O how perfumed your courtier's phrases are: I left him in health sir.  Wag. 
O ay, they speak in print I can tell you, and though it be a sin, to rob a man of his learning yet Courtiers are very seldom blamed for getting out of any men's books.  Peg: 
Yet I have known them steal out of them ere now.  Nan: 
Nay then you'll make a Courtier a Thief:  Peg: 
ay, such a one as the good thief was.  Man: 
Mass I wonder what Country man that good thief was?  Nue: 
O, a was my countryman Lady, he was a borderer on North wales, I can assure you.  Nan: 
Indeed and so I think, for not to flatter ye, many of your Country men have proved good thieves ever since: but I pray tell me, is it the fashion of your north wales, to suffer your beards to grow upwards thus, in spite of your nose?  Nue: 
Yes Lady, all of us that are Courtiers: marry before when we were poor country fellows, we suffered our beards carelessly to grow downward, and then they grow into our mouths in spite of our teeth, now you know hair is but excrement, & for mine own part, I had rather have my excrement in my nose, then in my teeth.  Peg: 
I have heard most of your Country men are very active men.  Nue: 
O Lady, I have seen a youth of eighteen years in our Country, would ha' capered ye, thus high!  Wag. 
'T as been in a string then.  Peg: 
Is it possible?  Nan: 
Nay, believe it, 'a would have done it with all his heart, but he could not.  Peg 
They say to, most of your Countrymen are very valiant  Wag. 
O ay, they terrify their enemies with patience.  Nue. 
O, we make the excellentest Soldiers in the world.  Peg: 
ay, but they say, they cannot press a man to the wars though, in all your country.  Nue: 
yes Knights:  Nan: 
Why Knights?  Nue. 
To save our Landed men at home.  Nan: 
I have heard, most of ye are great travailers.  Nue: 
ay, for france Spain and England, and such neighbour countries, why I have been as far as Winchester myself.  Wag. 
Indeed 'tis true, some of ye Travail so far abroad as ye come short home many times.  Reg: 
I have heard ye are all Gentlemen.  Nue: 
Indeed I must confess Lady, we have few beggars, and those we have, we reward according, for if he be a lusty Knave, we give him a lawyer's alms, tell him of the stature: if a poor and decrepit fellow, we give him a citizen's wives charity, cry God help him, God help him.  Peg: 
By your leave Master Newcome, methinks you have a pretty lace on your band  Nue: 
A pretty slight court lace, all show, all show.  Nan. 
What's this, a shirt that ye wear? else 'tis a mock-beggar with strips.  Nue. 
No, 'tis a shirt Lady.  Nan. 
What, did you make this Doublet new, or else ye new made it?  Nue. 
Yes I made it new Lady?  Nan. 
Believe me sir but the livings are old.  Peg, 
Fie, they are greasy.  Nue, 
I think they are something sweaty indeed with hunting.  Nan. 
Hunting: why a man need not hunt far for game, what's this?  She finds a louse. Nue: 
O, a salamader Lady, 'tis a salamader bred with the continual heat of sweating—  Peg: 
What's your breech made all of one stuff Master Newcome?  Nue: 
Pray why do you ask?  Peg: 
Because methinks the soil change's hear behind  Wag. 
ay, and so doth the air as well as the soil I warrant ye.  Nan: 
What are these hose made of the newest fashion ye have at Court?  Nue. 
Faith Lady for mine own part I am no man's Ape, this is my fashion, and sometimes I stand in the presence with my cloak lined through, either with velvet or with Taffeta, if with Velvet, I let him hang on my shoulder, making the greatest show, carry my hat here.  Peg. 
Now by the soul of chastity I swear, 'a is a proper man.  Nue: 
If any man pass by and salute me, I salute him again, but if any Lady or Gentlewoman glide through the presence, and cast her eye on me, as commonly they use to do on men, that makes any show or glister as I always do.  Nan. 
Ye! always making glisters, I hold my life he is a Pothecary, do you never make no suppositors sir?  Nue. 
I keep my place of standing, carry my body stiff and upright, blush not, am impudent enough, when perchance the heat of the Lady's affection makes her take a place of standing, either against the hangings or one of the bay windows, and therewith a greedy eye feeds on my exteriors, which perceiving, I draw to her, kiss my hand, & accost her thus.  Enter Knight. Nan: 
I pray accost her anon sir, and let's stand close and trouble not true jealousy in the picture of Hieronimo, in a little volume.  Peg. 
See, see how 'a looks, do you not perceive his heart beat hither?  Nan. 
ay, for all the world like the Denmark Drummer.  Wag. 
Peace, hear what 'a says.  Kni: 
Forgiveness wife: O how have I wronged thee, O who would abuse your sex, which truly knows ye? O women were we not borne of ye? should we not then honour you? nursed by ye, and not regard ye? begotten on ye, and not love ye? made for ye, and not seek ye? and since we were made before ye, should we not love and admire ye as the last? and therefore perfectest work of nature, Man was made when nature was but an apprentice, but woman when she was a skilful Mistress of her Art, therefore cursed is he that doth not admire those Paragons, those Models of heaven, Angels on earth Goddesses in shape: by their loves we live in double breath, even in our Offspring after death. Are not all Vices masculine, and Virtues feminine? are not the Muses the loves of the learned? do not all noble spirits follow the Graces because they are women, there's but one Phoenix and she's a female: Is not the Princes and foundress of good arts Minerva, borne of the brain of highest jove, a woman? have not these women, the face of love the tongue of persuasion, the body of delight? O divine perfectioned, women, whose praises no tongue can full express, for that the matter doth exceed the labour, O if to be a Woman be so excellent, what is it then to be a woman enriched by nature, made excellent by education, noble by birth, chaste by virtue, adorned by beauty: A fair woman which is the ornament of heaven, the grace of earth, the joy of life and the delight of all sense, even the very summum bonum of man's life.  Nue: 
O monstrous heresy, he will be damned for that error.  Wag. 
Nay, let him alone, for he had like to been burnt for that opinion ere now, had not a friend of mine plucked the fire from the stake.  Nue: 
Come, let's break out upon him.  Nan: 
O no good sir, though it be a thing much given to your name, yet let not us break out, let us not show such childish parts.  Peg. 
Save ye Knight.  Kni. 
And bless ye Lady, O sirrah, are you there? come ye hither, what's that strange Lady there?  Wag. 
I think it be mistress Babee sir, master Nuecome's Mistress, for she looks like an Northern Lass, made of a strange fashion, something like a Lute, all belly to the neck.  Kni. 
So, like a Lute, and you like a skilful physician have been fingering it.  Nan: 
How does your good Lady Knight, how doth she?  Kni. 
Well I praise Hymen, and I adore my stars, she hath no acquaintance with such a female fly as you are.  Nan: 
What means he by that?  Peg, 
Why I think a means you are but a light housewife, but come let's leave him.  Nan: 
Light housewife, hang him dogged cynic.  Nue: 
Farewell Knight.  Exeunt Nue: Nan, & Peg. Nan, 
Forgiveness wife.  Kni. 
Now the plague of Egypt light upon you all, Lice devour ye ye come: hither sirrah, what's the cause you keep such villainous company?  Wag. 
I keep their company most sir for good victuals, for you keep such a villainous house, as if 'twear always Easter eve, we still hope for better: and you know your Cook is gone already sir, for fear 'a should forget his occupation with you. Besides sir, if any man come to your house to dinner though he hop upon one leg, yet every man saith 'a comes to fast, and for mine own part sir, you have given me nothing since I came unto you.  Kni. 
O thou pampered lade! what wouldst thou have? what wouldst thou feed on Quails? art thou not Fat? is not thy neck brawn, thy leg calf? thy head beef, & yet thou wants meat.  Wag. 
No sir, but I would willingly have some wages.  Kni. 
Well, i'll think on't, and so go call your mistress.  Wag. 
Look you sir, here she comes without calling.  Knight 
Save your honesty then, and be gone without bidding.  Wag: 
I vanish sir.  Exit Wages Kn: 
Do so: O my sweet wife, my selected spouse, the very vessel of chastity, filled to the very brim with Hymen zeal & nuptial duty: how have I abused thee? but I have washed repentance even in tears, and in thy absence I have dedicated sacred sighs unto thee to appease thy wrath: therefore tell me sweet wife, when comes this pander, when comes he?  Lad. 
I muse he stays so long, he should ha' been by promise here an hour since, and look here 'a comes?  Enter Lord disguised. Knight 
O you are welcome Sir, welcome i'faith, but when comes your Lord? is he at hand, will ha' come?  Lor. 
My Lord sir, what Lord?  Knight 
Nay, come, come, make not the matter strange man, my wife hath told me all, you are an honest man, hold, hold, will ye but be friend me now, and watch another door unto my house, and give me notice when 'a comes, while I watch this.  Lor. 
O now I see the trick on't, his wife hath gulled him with a lie & made him believe I am but a poor servingman only to enjoy my love: O kind woman! O sweet Lady! nay now I see she loves me.  Kni. 
O excellent wife, how true she told me, what a beast have I been still to wrong her with suspect.  Lor. 
Faith sir I see ye are a very worthy Gentleman, and for mine own part I shall be glad to do you any pleasure, for to tell you true, I think my Lord means to Cuckold you indeed.  Kni. 
Why that's well said, hold hears one Angel more, and go but with my wife, she'll show you the other door while I watch this: and if a come, knock him down, kill him, and lay the fault on me, i'll please you for your pains, look, here's a club will hold.  La. 
Give me, give me, come.  Kni. 
Go wife, go with him, see a stand stiffly to't, and if occasion serve.  Lad. 
I warrant ye husband, fear it not, but i'll do my part.  Exeunt Wife and Lord. Kni. 
Why that's well said, and if a come to this door, i'll teach him come to tie his mare in my ground, but what a slave have I been still thus to suspect my wife, I could never feel any horns I had, and yet I know my skull is so thin that if my wife should a Cuckold me with the least thing in the world, yet my horns would ha' grown through now am I for my Lord.  Enter Lord and the Lady at another dors. Lor: 
Now fair mistress, this far through the mouth of danger am I come & made my passage even through her life. devouring jaws to feast mine eyes upon this beauty, which makes me think all danger's but a sport, so you receive and wrap me in your loves embracements, and take hold of this fair occasion, for well you know your husband's jealousy will turn this proffered time like fortune's wheel, and drown our fairest hopes even in despair, if you be tedious in our loves effects, and therefore since your wit hath safely plotted my arrival here; proceed even to the utmost lists of my desire, and make me happy in the fruition of your long desired love.  Kni. 
O my Lord, shall a smile, a good word, a little kind behaviour, or the title of dear servant, make your hopes to swell into so great a sea of lust, as presently to overflow and drown the honour of your Mistress? O my Lord no, your judgement much deceives you of my disposition: beside, I sent not for ye, it was your lewd unbridled will, that made you thus come gallop hither: yet by my means I must confess as yet you are unknown, and in some sort I glad your being here, only to make you know, that neither fairest occasions nor greatest persuasions shall ever make me violate my faith to him I owe my love; No my Lord I know I durst to trust myself against the most of opportunity and strength of all temptation, and though my husband watch you at the door, yet know within, my conscience watcheth me though he be blinded with a trick, yet the clear all-light givers eyes do see: therefore good my Lord be gone, you see my husband is wilful bent, and if he chance to know you, I much doubt your safety.  Lor. 
But is this my pains requital and my loves reward?  Knight 
Alas my Lord, what would you have? my love is not mine own.  Lor. 
Well, farewell Lady, you may repent this yet ere long: yet peace fond breath, least threats my plots beguile: vengeance intended policy, must smile.  Exeunt Lord & Lady Enter Lord. Kni. 
Are ye going sir, are ye going, what will not your Lord come?  Lor. 
I think not sir, his hour is passed long since, some other business hinders him.  Kin. 
God's my passion, what do I see, this is he, I see his chain: nay but look you sit, when will you come again? by this light I see his signet ring.  Lor. 
Assure yourself sir, i'll bring you notice before my Lord come.  Kni. 
Nay, but will you sure? shall I trust to you? for look ye sir, and if you should not come, pray stay a little, methinks your band is torn.  Lor: 
It's no matter no matter.  Kn. 
No, 'tis not now I sent, by this hand 'tis he, 'tis he, what should I do, now if I should strike him, he would be too hard for me, for he is better armed than I.  Lor. 
Well sir, I'll take my leave of you, till your occasion shall need my presence.  Kni. 
Fare ye well sir, I hope that shall be never: but have not I spun a fair thread think you, to be a very Bawd, an arrant wittal, to give them opportunity, put them together, Nay hold the door the whilst this is my wives plot, by which I have sailed to Cuckold's haven yet my sail was but a smock, which she herself hoist up alas alas, Gentlemen do you not know the Philosopher saith this world is but a stage: hody mihi, cras tibi my part today, it may be some of yours to morrow why 'tis but matrimonial chance, we that are Cuckolds should be wisest men, for no men else do know their ends, but we know ours, for we are forked at both O thou powerful and celestial jove! strike down from heaven some congealed bolts of thunder, that it may pierce the womb of earth, and through it send thy lightning flames to make hell hotter than it is, or with Egyptian damps and rotten jaws renovate thy eating plague of life, dissolve nature, consume earth, destroy hell, and damn woman I beseech thee into a deeper dungeon than the Devil. They fill men with diseases, and give the wan-eyed Sun of Heaven cause to smile to see our pains: shall the gaping of graves, the screeching of Ghosts, and cries of damned souls, yet longer be deferred? shall time incorporate with sin, and beget more mischief? shall hell be better furnished with women then with Devils? infernal Lucifer will muster up his female souls against thy deity, unless thou do abridge the course of sin by cutting off the increase of women, and then we shall have no more cuckolds. Come ye hither wife, come ye hither, pray tell me one thing true.  Enter Lady. Lady. 
True: why husband, i'll lie for no man's pleasure.  Knight 
Yes, for his pleasure that is gone.  La. 
For his pleasure, why for his pleasure?  Kni. 
Because you are a Punk wife, a punk.  La. 
Now jove bless me.  Knight 
You are a Cockatrice wife, a cockatrice  La. 
Now heavens defend me.  Knight 
You are a whore wife, a whore.  La. 
Sir, the man is mad.  Knight 
ay, horn mad, ah thou vile perfidious, detestable, lascivious, unsatiable, Luxurious and abominable strumpet, was it not enough to be an Actaeon, a cornuto, a cuckold, but to make me a Bawd, a Pimp, a Pander?  La. 
What Pimp? what Pander?  Knight 
What Pimp? what Pander? why was not this the Lord Nonsuch? did I not see his chain, nay prithee say 'twas not he, nay swear it too: over shoes over boots, since ye have waded to the belly in sin, nay now go deeper even to the breast and heart.  La. 
Pray hear me husband.  Knight 
What vile excuses canst make, how canst thou hide thy lust? wouldst wrap thy sin in perjury to muffle up thy villainy?  La. 
Nay good Husband for pity sake hear me.  Kni. 
Talk not of pity, pity is deaf and cannot hear the poor man's cry, much less a strumpet's.  La. 
For charity hear me.  Kni. 
Charity is frozen and benumbed with cold, it cannot help thee, dost kneel? dost kneel? to the heaven's not to me yet they look thy heart should stoop, and not the knee. Dost weep dost? Rise, rise thou strumpet, go out of my sight, in, in.  Lor. 
I go, Yet this my comfort, in the gall of life, Suspicion never wronged a truer wife.  Exit. Lord. Enter Wages. Kni. 
Hoe, Wages!  Wag. 
Here sir.  Kni. 
Come heather Wages, my old resolution is come on me again, and it shall make me do much, for I will geld myself.  Wag. 
Alas sir that's the only way to make you do little.  Kni. 
Therefore go fetch me the Operator.  Wag. 
What's he sir?  Kn. 
The stone-Cutter.  Wag 
O you mean the Sowgelder.  Kni. 
O! he's an excellent fellow, he takes away the cause of a man's beastly desires.  Wag. 
ay, and of their manly performance too.  Kni. 
He makes a man not care a rush for a woman.  Wag. 
No, nor a Woman care a straw for a man.  Kni. 
Doth not such a fellow deserve commendations?  Wa. 
Yes as a hangman doth, for cutting off the traitors that makes the flesh rebel.  Knight 
Wages I do now more doubt my wives honesty then ever, therefore i'll make him the touchstone of her reputation.  Wag. 
Faith sir ye might get easier touchstones than he a great deal, there's many a goldsmiths wife in Cheapside could help you to a better.  Kni. 
He deserves much praise.  Wag. 
ay, as your cockatrice doth for the dismembering of men.  Kni. 
If she be a punket i'll not be divorced.  Wag. 
Why should ye? why ye cannot keep more Gentlemanlike company: beside, your punk: is like your politician, for they both consume themselves, for the common people. And your punk of the two, is the better member, for she like a candle to light others's, burns herself.  Kni. 
Well wages, come follow me, for I am resolved to try my wives honesty.  Exeunt Omnes. 
Finis Act. second.    


Actus Ter. scena prima  Enter young Nonsuch like a begging Soldier. Young Lord. 
Venus lay where Mars had found her,  
And in warlike arms he bound her,  
Cupid cried, and Vulcan spied:  
And thereon threw the Sciclops,  
But his horn, begat his scorn,  
With all the little God's mocks.  
Now some honest Gentleman pass by that I might sell him the maidenhead of my occupation for a half penny mass, here 'a comes, 'a shall ha''t, ye faith.  Enter Nucome. 
Worshipful Gentleman, look with your eye, and pity with your heart the distress of a martial man, I have been a man in my days, and acquainted with better fortunes than I now see: time hath been I have borne arms, but now one's gone, and I can no longer write Gentleman: wherefore if you please to bestow but one poor thistle of your bounty to prick the blister of my poverty, it would set my slender fortunes a float, where they now lie beating on the goodwins of famine, I am none of these Ludgatians that beg for fourscore and ten poor men: my suit is only for myself.  Nuc. 
Whom hast thou served friend?  Lor. 
First I served in Ireland, then in Holland, Braband, Zealand, Gelderland, Friesland and most of the seventeen Provinces, I was at the siege of Bargon up soon, carried a pike at the entrance of Sluice, and was hurt in the groin entering the breach.  Nue: 
Who was thy Captain?  Lor. 
I served under the command of Captain pipe.  Nue: 
Who, captain gregory Pipe?  Lor. 
No sir, Captain Tobacco Pipe.  Nue. 
O, I know him well indeed, he is on the English nation, hath much employments.  Lor. 
I can assure your worship sir, I have seen him in very hot service, and when some of us his followers have smoked for't too: wherefore I beseech you sir, bestow something on me, for the knowledge you had of my good Captain.  Nue. 
Go to sirrah, I fear ye are a counterfeit Rogue.  Lor. 
How Rogue sir? though none of fortune's favourites, nor great men's minions, yet perchances as good a man as yourself: 'swounds Roguel  Nue. 
Nay be not angry good friend for i'faith I love a Soldier with all my heart, for indeed I have a Cousin is one, would give thee something, but i'faith I have no siller, yet I give thee eighteen pence in conceit, and so farewell.  Exit Nuecome. Lor: 
Well sir, in conceit I thank ye then.  Enter Knight and Wages. 
Ye Wages, come ye after like a Clog to the heels of the old Ape your Master?  Kni. 
Wages, how many pounds go to a stone of beef?  Wag. 
Eight sir.  Knight 
Then I am lighter by sixteen pound now then I was, I may now lie with any Lady in Europe for any hurt I can do her.  Wag. 
True sir, or good either.  Knight 
I can cuckold no man,  Wag. 
Yet any man may cuckold you.  Knight 
What's he Wages?  Wag: 
Some poor Soldier sir, lately come out of the low countries.  Lor. 
I must not now beg lame, for fear I lose his service by it: I beseech ye good black Captain bestow something of a poor Soldier, that hath served his Prince both by Sea and land: if you bestow but one poor penny of your liberality, when the wheel of fate, turns, if the bitter frosts of poverty do not in the mean time nip my fortunes in the blossoms, I doubt not but to reciprocrate your courtesy.  Wag 
Hyda, what an excellent fellow this would make to dwell in the exchange, how the Rogue prates?  Kni. 
What art a Soldier?  Lord 
I have been one some few years.  Knight 
Why then thou art a Gentleman by profession, and 'tis a shame Gentleman to beg.  Lor: 
So I think, for I have Gentleman like qualities enough: for I had rather drink drunk to purge, then take Physic: but will you give me any thing sir?  Wag: 
No sir my master doth not use to give Gentlemen money, for fear of disgracing them.  Lor. 
O, I cry you mercy good Master Mustard-Pot.  Wag. 
Mustard pot! God's light, mustard Pot! and why Mustard pot?  Lo. 
Because thou art a saucebox.  Wag: 
Sauce box?  Kni:. 
Go to, be quiet Wages.  Lor. 
But will ye give me any thing sir?  Kni. 
No not a penny.  Lor. 
Come then sir, will ye walk a turn or too?  Kni. 
walk with thee, why, art not lousy?  Lor. 
I need not, I have change enough, for I have two pair of shoes  Kni. 
Wert never in better fashion?  Lor, 
Yes, I have borne the badge of honour in my days.  Wag 
I 'a hath been some Nobleman's Footman sure.  Kni. 
Was thy Father an alchemist that thou art so poor?  Lor. 
Why do you not know poverty hath a Gentleman Ushers place, it goes bear before death.  Kni. 
Thy name,  Lor. 
Slack.  Kni. 
Of what Religion art?  Slac. 
Faith I am yet clean paper, ye may write on me what ye will, either Puritan or Protestant.  Knight 
Wilt thou serve me?  Slac. 
So you will give me wages.  Kni. 
Yes that I will, and thou shalt wear my livery too, i'll give it thee, thou shalt not buy't thyself.  Slac. 
I thank ye sir.  Enter a Bawd. Wag. 
O Mistress Correction! how do you?  Mrs.: Cor. 
I thank ye good Master Wages, and how doth that goodly Gelding your Master?  Wag: 
Why Gelding?  Mrs.: Cor. 
Because he hath both abused and accused one of the most virtuous Ladies that ever frizzled her hair.  Wag. 
Peace, speak soft, that's he.  Mi. Co: 
Is that he?  Wag: 
The very same.  Mi. Co. 
Now by my troth I am glad to see your worship in good health, and how doth your good Worship: Lord you look ill, a body may see what grief will do: O had you had a good wife, your worship would look twenty years younger than you do, 'tis even pity of her life that would wrong such a sweet man: what an excellent complexion your beard's off, and by my troth 'a keeps his colour very well.  slack pinches behind. 
What now you saucy Companion you, what ail you trow?  Slac: 
You had an ill Midwife Mistress, she hath not closed your mould well behind.  Mist. Cor. 
Marry come up Jack an Apes father-in-law, what can you tell?  Sla. 
I felt it by giving my hand to bid it farewell.  Mist. Cor. 
O sir, that's sign ye are a clown, if ye had been a Gentleman ye would ha' kissed it, and a taken your leave on't, I pray master Wages what's this fellow?  Wag. 
A new man of my masters, and I can assure you a tall Soldier too.  Mist. Cor. 
A tall Soldier say you? so methinks, his clothes have been in shrewd services, for they are very dangerously wounded. Sir, and like your worship, this that you have entertained is no man, 'tis some Scarecrow, and you have done very ill to take him away: the Crows will eat up the Corn now out of all measure, pray God we have not a dear year after it.  Sla. 
I know your husband well Mistress Correction, and Mistress Punckit too, I hear she keeps her bed much, what is she not in health?  Kni. 
Have you such a Gentlewoman lies at your house?  Mi. Cor. 
Yes indeed sir, a younger Brother's Daughter, a kinswoman of my Husbands.  Kni. 
It seems he hath been acquainted with her.  Mi. Cor. 
Who he? no sir, she scorns to speak with him, unless 'twear by an Attorney.  Wag. 
Pray how doth your Husband good Mistress Correction.  Mrs.: Cor. 
The better your asking good Master Wages.  Wag. 
Indeed her Husband is a very honest painful man sir.  Mist. Cor. 
O master Wages, no, no, master Wages, you are deceived in him, there's never a morning but I am ready and abroad, an hour before he's up: and when he is up, as I am a living woman, I can make him do nothing for my life.  Kni. 
No, doth he not study?  Mi. Cor. 
Yes, like the clerk of a great man's kitchen, what meat he shall have for dinner.  Wag. 
Believe it but he is a good Scholar though, O he hath a passing head of his own.  M. C. 
Hath he, I he hath indeed, if he knew all, & I can tell ye he may thank me for't too, for he went to school to tme in my first husband's time  Kn. 
Pray what was your first husband  Mi, Cor. 
M. Seldom the preacher an't like your worship, he preached in two of his benefices in one day, & sure 'twas the death of him, he never joyed himself after he so overstrained his voice.  Kni. 
And than you married this man?  Mi. C. 
Yes forsooth, & truly afterwards bought him a benefice, but he hath sold it again, & I may tell you though I am no Lady, yet he's called sir john every word, & for all this now he makes no more account of me then your man Mai. Wages doth of an old shoe-clout which 'a never thinks off, but when 'a needs, and if he cannot find it, why any other thing serves his turn, and so he deals by me, & truly M. Wages I may tell you, I mean to put him away.  Wag. 
Away I why ye cannot put him away for this.  M, C. 
Yes I warrant ye, if you can find in your heart to love & marry me, let me alone for that? I'll keep ye like a man all days of your life: beside, if the stones of the street in the cive should be too hot, for ye, & that ye dare not walk on them for fear the wicked vanities of the world should catch hold of ye, as they have done to the utter overthrow & undoing of many a good man, yet I can get my living in the Suburbs, & what trade soever go down, I doubt not but mine will hold up as long as the kingdom yields either soldiers or younger brothers, which wants maintenance to keep wives of their own No M. Wages, my trade is a sweet trade, little doth anybody know what comings in I have daily, I keep 3. as good featherbeds going winter & summer, as any sinner in the suburbs: beside, I warrant ye, I get above 20 pound a year in Rhenish wine, at the second hand.  Wag. 
Well, ask my Ma. if he be willing, ye shall find me forward  M: C. 
And that's as much as any woman can ask truly: and please your worship I have a suit to you.  Kni. 
What be't Mi. Cor. for you are very like to speed?  M.C. 
That I may have your good will to marry M. Wages.  Kni. 
Why you have a husband alive?  Mi. C. 
ay, but I can be divorced from him, and like your worship for three several causes which I know well enough, I warrant ye.  Kni. 
If he be willing, with all my heart.  Mrs.: Cor. 
I thank your worship.  Sla. 
Hise fellow Wages, pray a word we, dost mean to have her?  Wag. 
I.  Slac: 
Well, go thy ways, I warrant thee a sound piece of her.  Wag: 
A piece, why a piece? didst thou ever shoot in her?  Slac. 
Who I, no: she recoils too much in the discharging for me to meddle with, but dost hear, put her away again as soon as thou canst: if thou keep her long, if she prove not like a commodity of wood, and stink in thy hands then hang me.  Kni. 
Well Mistress Correction, I could wish you go about this your affairs as soon as you may, & Slack, & Wages do you two follow me.  Exeunt 3. one door, and the bawd at the other. Enter Peg and Nan. Na. 
Now by my chaste thoughts which I was mother of at nine years old, I here swear, never to be in love: yet Master Newcome the Courtier thinks with the wearing of a neat boot, and a clean band, to catch my love napping as Morse catch this Mare, but Venus be my good speed, and Cupid send me good luck, for my heart is very light, and I fear 'tis but like a Candle, burnt into the Socket, which lightens a little before it goes out.  Peg. 
I most fear 'tis like lightning before thunder, I pray have a careyehold fast.  Nan. 
Come, thou hast such a running wit, 'tis like an Irish foot boy. I fear 'twill rob thee of all thy friends and then run from thee and leave thee.  
But I pray thee tell me one thing,  Peg: 
I will an't be a good thing?  Nan: 
Hast thou thy Maiden head yet?  Peg: 
My maidenhead! faith I.  Nan: 
Come, prithee do not lie, for they say 'tis lost lying and by the strength of my little virtue, I wonder (for mine own part) to see how this foolish virginity is esteemed when there is such danger in the keeping it, for who doth not know that the barren womb is cursed? and all know virgins have no children: beside, Women shall be saved by the bearing of Children, how think'st thou, are they?  Peg: 
Nay, I cannot tell, you were best try.  Nan: 
Indeed they say 'tis good to try before one trust.  Peg: 
But I pray thee tell me one thing now,  Nan: 
And what's that?  Peg: 
The reason why thou art come run away from thy Father, considering the foreman of your Shop, methought was a good handsome fellow.  Nan. 
'tis true, so he was, but he had no leisure to keep me company a worky days for crying what do you lack, and a Holy days he would be at stoolball amongst the boys when I had most need of him: but to tell thee the true cause of my coming away; I should have married a young unthrifty Lord, one that will give his very soul to a fair woman, and faith sometimes though she be never so foul, yet he will lend her his body: he had never a hair on his beard this three or four year, but might ha' been an utter barrister, for they have moulted all five or six times: he's like death, he spares none, young nor old, rich nor poor, fair nor foul, he takes all.  Peg: 
Well Nan well, thou art happy, thou were't borne under a good Planet, thou hast store of suits, but prithee look, is there none hear's our counsel?  Nun: 
No none, speak boldly lass.  Peg: 
I think an ill star reigned when I was borne, I cannot have as much as suitor, this Master Newcome that you for sooth so much scorn: I could find in my heart to pray nine times to the Moon, and fost three Saint Anne's eves, so that I might be sure to have him to my husband.  Nan: 
ay, thou wouldst have him dreaming but not waking I am sure.  Peg: 
Not waking! yea & a bed too, for here I vow even by the chastest thoughts that ere was nursed within Diana's breast and by those purple drops chaste Lucrece spilled, and by the unstained colour of a maiden's blush, that I will prove as true unto his bed, as ere did she that did Ulysses wed.  Nan: 
Nay, since I have refused a Lord, by this light I scorn to marry any under the degree of a Knight.  Peg. 
No, I would not have a Knight if I might, for there are so many, as they are forgotten what they be.  Nan: 
Nay I then I see you are deceived, why woman, they have most of them taken an order that they will never be forgotten, for they have booked themselves down a purpose, I know above three & twenty in one Mercers books in Cheap side: then judge thou how many are in all their books, and there is that will be a witness I warrant you to after ages, what their forefathers have been.  Peg, 
ay, but that's but their faults, yet you know their calling is honourable though.  Nan: 
Faith thou sayest true, I must needs say, Knighthood is like marriage know a days, which thought be honourable amongst all men, yet is beggarly with a great many: but come shall's go to dinner and see what stomach I have to my victuals, for i'faith i have none to a husband: I would not taste a morsel of a men for any money.  Peg: 
O that's because thou art not hungry.  Nan. 
'tis true indeed, a little bit would fill my belly.  Exeunt amnes. Enter Lady and slack after her. La. 
O my unkind husband, why dost reject me? if not on thee, where should I fix my love to have reward?  Enter Wages. Sla: 
Here where you are, in dear and high regard.  Lady 
Alas thou art a man of mean condition.  Slac. 
Your love to me, will breed the less suspicion.  
Fortune denies me wealth: all ill upon her,  
Yet I have courage to defend your honour,  
Madam, you reason have to be unjust:  
A wicked husband makes an unkind wife.  
Men brag, that women weaker creatures be,  
Yet you must suffer all gross Injury,  
with silence too, and lowliness of spirit,  
And then forsooth a good wives name your merit.  
A goodly purchase sure to be a slave,  
Unto a slave, till you go to the grave.  
eve had a soul as well as Adam,  
All souls are masculine, hold freedom Madam.  
If strength of body make the noblest creature,  
Why should not lions be the Kings of nature?  
The strongest creatures governed are by sense,  
And there thy soul hath little residence.  
Philosophers say, the Element of fire,  
Is active, purest, aptest to aspire:  
Of which you women have the lesser portion,  
Which makes your brains beget cold Notion.  
I grant that Adam was created so,  
But since his fall, all thinks do backward go.  
Now active heart, gets murder, theft and rapine:  
'tis thy chariot which all vice doth ride in.  
Against whose ills women could temper spurns,  
Give me the heart which warms not that which burns.  
O hateful is the state you now do hold,  
Worse than the slave, that is for money sold.  
For you must money give to buy your evils,  
and bind yourselves, to some incarnate devils.  
Be but chief steward in their drudgery,  
Bring forth their brats with your lives jeopardy.  
Scarce dare you give, an old sleeve from your arm,  
But they cry out, you're under Covertbaren.  La. 
Presumptuous slave whose flesh upon thy bone,  
Thy Master just, may challenge as his own:  
Which by the dead scrapes from his trencher got,  
Is quickened now, to cut thy givers throat:  
Thou venomed Snake, frozen with beggary,  
Now being thawed by thy master's bounty.  
Wouldst sting the bosom that did revive thee,  
and like a viper gnaw, who first conceived thee.  
Full argument of a servile spirit,  
For noble hearts will gratify each merit.  Exit Lady. Slae. 
Yea, are ye vanished?  Wag. 
Why how now fellow Slack, what is she gone?  Slac: 
S'life what should I do now to stop this slaves venomed breath, for fear it infect my reputation with my new master? this time was ill taken, yet something I must do fellow Wages, how long hast thou been here?  Wag. 
Ever since fortune denied thee wealth: all ill upon her: but thou hast courage to defend her honour.  Sla. 
'slight he hath heard all.  
Why man 'twas my master set me only to try her.  Wag. 
Nay, like enough, for I see he would willingly prove an accessary to the stealing of his own goods.  Enter Knight. Sla. 
True, and look here he comes, but I pray thee say nothing, let me tell him of it.  Wa. 
Who I? not a word, my mouth is as close as a falconer's pouch, or a country wench's placket.  Kn. 
She would never cuckold me, but that she hath some reason for't  Sl. 
True sir, there is nothing done, but there's reason for it, (if a man could find it) for what's the reason your citizens wives continually wear hats, but to show the desire they have always to be covered. Or why do your sempsters spend their time in pricking, and your Ladies in poking of ruffs; but only to show they do as they would be done unto? or why do your Inns of court men lie with his Laundress in a long vacation, but because he hath no money to go abroad? Or why do your old judges widows always marry young Gentlemen, but to show that they love execution better than judgement.  Kni. 
O, but I wonder much she would not give me leave to make my first child myself.  Sa. 
Foe: she knew you were but a prentice to the occupation, and commonly Prentices spoil their first work, and being unskilful, she was loath you should practise in a good Shop, and therefore she befriended you, because she would have it well done: she got a better workman to do it for you. For what's the reason the younger brothers (according to the old wives tails) always proved the wisest men, but because the Fathers grew more skilful at last than they were at the first? but I think your wives eldest Son will prove an excellent fellow, because she had the help of so many in the making of it. For commonly if one have a thing to be done, as a conveyance to be drawn, or a case in the law to be argued, a man would have the help of as many good Lawyers as he could get: now this case of making of children, and a case in the law, is something like, for as one Lawyer takes his fee, and deals in't, another Lawyer comes and argues the case more profoundly: but in the end when all is done, leaves it to be tried by the jury, in whom the right is, and so must you: when they and you and all have done your best, yet in the end, must leave it to be tried by your wife, whose's the child is, for a woman's knowledge in this case, is better than twelve men's.  Knight 
O Slack, I hate worse than the worst sin that is.  Wag. 
And I pray which sin do you most hate?  Kni. 
That which is most like her, which if thou wilt repeat—  Sla. 
I'll tell their conditions.  Kni. 
And I, which is most like her.  Wag. 
Then the first is pride.  Sla. 
I would have that sin burnt for a witch, it changes men into so many shape.  Wag: 
The next is murder.  Slac. 
O! that's a thirsty sin, for nought can quench it but blood.  Wag. 
What is Theft?  Slac: 
Faith the greatest fault that I can find in that is, it cozens the Scriveners, for it borrows money without giving any obligation.  Wag: 
Covetousness.  Sla. 
O! that's an excellent sin, for to deal with, a that hath a loose belly, for 'twill bind any man for ten groats.  Wag. 
What is sloth then?  Sla. 
Faith Sloth is a good Maidenly Green-sickness sin.  Wag. 
But lechery my Lady?  Sla. 
O that's the suckingst sin that a man can be acquainted withal, it cannot endure to be in company, it creeps into corners, and hides itself in the dark still.  Wag. 
What sayst then to drunkenness?  Sla: 
O that's a most gentleman like sin, it scorns to be beholding for what it receives in a man's house, it commonly leaves it again at his door.  Wag. 
Nay, than lechery scorns to be beholding too, for I have known what it hath received in a man's house, it hath sent home again nine months after, and lain at his door, and therefore the more Gentleman like sin a great deal, because it takes the longer time of repayment, but I pray sit now, which of all this is most like your wife.  Kni. 
Murder, for nought can quench her thirst of lust, but now I soon shall find her villainy, praised be my vigilant care: which if I do espy, i'll turn her off.  Wag. 
Alas, alas sir, you have no reason to be angry, much less to be divorced, although she do transgress, are you not cut? have ye not given her cause, is it not out of mere necessity she doth it? therefore if you follow my counsel, make her amends with kindness, and put not her away.  Knight 
Believe me he speaks wisely, and good counsel, like a Lady, is to be embraced.  Slac. 
Not put her away, and if she wrong him. If he do not, I say he is one of the arrant'st blocks that ever man spurned on: why is he not a Gentleman, a Knight, hath 'a not seen fashion: sir, I would have you bear a noble mind, put her away and you list, 'tis no matter for cause, if she change but a trencher with the Groom of your stable, 'tis dealing enough to be divorced, Therefore put her away, and than you may have another wife.  Kni. 
Another wife?  Sla. 
True, a gallant, and yet a modest Lady too, one that shall nourish no blood but your own, tender your reputation as the apple of her eye, & honour even your very footsteps.  Knight 
She shall go, i'll make her truss up her trinkets, oh faith she shall away.  Wag. 
Shall she away? if she do, you do you know not what, you draw a thousand thousand enemies about your ears, her kindred they'll exclaim, no friends will seek revenge, and your enemies will grow even fat with laughter at your folly. Besides: what Woman then will have you, are you not gelded? assure yourself that now there is none will love you, most will hate you, but all will scorn you, therefore by my advice make much of her, and keep her while you have her.  Kni. 
Hah! now by the virtue of my hearing, he speaks but reason.  Sla. 
So, 'tis good to keep her still: dwell in the Suburbs to break down your own glass windows, set some picks upon your hatch, and I pray profess to keep a bawdy-house.  Kni. 
A bawdy-house? no, i'll die first, and if I see but any apparent show of her disloyalty, i'll even be divorced immediately.  Exit Knight and slack. Wag. 
Well, I see the substance of this slave is villainy.  
But i'll prevent him even what I can,  
Since none is worse than a Serving honest man,  Exit. Sound Music.   


Actus Quarti, Scena prima.  Enter Knight and slack. Knight 
Why had I not a good leg? did I not always wear clean lining? was not my hand washed, my beard combed, my cloak brushed, and my shoes blacked, every morning.  Slac. 
True, why the more viler strumpet she to cuckold you.  Knight 
But how dost know she is with child.  Sla. 
Know it, why she's daily troubled with water pangs, and quakings over her stomach.  Knight 
Indeed I must needs say that's a great proof, she hath filled her belly with something that stood against her stomach, but dost not think 'tis my child.  Slac. 
yours! why how can't be yours: are you not circumcised to the quick?  Kni. 
Yes, and the remembrance of it galls me.  Sla: 
That's a sign ye are too patient, and like an Ass endure all without resistance.  Kni. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Sla. 
But why do you laugh sir?  Kni. 
To think who the child will be like.  Sla. 
Why you, who should it be like else?  Knight 
Why 'tis none of mine man.  Sla. 
Why the more like you for that: why do you not not know the Philosophers hold the child is always like the party which the mother thinks off in the conception: now she thought most of you, for fear you should a' come the whiles, and that's the reason so many gentlemen's sons are like your Citizens, and calls them fathers too, for otherwise how could it be that a young Cockney being left forty or fifty thousand pounds: spends all within so many months, but that some young gallant begat him, for you know the prover be, Cat will after kind. No, had the old Citizen begotten him, he would a bit a Fig in two, to have made just weight, & have had a pot with a false bottom, rather than a sold too much measure, he would have done all things within measure as your old Citizen did, and not a spend all beyond measure, as your young Gallants do.  Kni. 
But were not I best go home and use her well, till the child be borne, to see if it be like me, that I may be sure 'tis none of mine.  Sla. 
O no, that were base, and as deceitful as the Colic when it breaks out in wind, which levels at a man's heel, and it strikes him in the nose, therefore never make a show of one thing, and do another, but put her away, rid your hands of her, and there's an end.  Kni. 
I think who's the father of the bastard?  Sla. 
Why who's the Father of a punk's child? be't not filius populi, it may have two Fathers for any thing we know.  Knight 
Well Slack, I do very much mistrust Wages too, for he is grown very familiar of late.  Sla. 
True sir, and takes her part too, and ye mark him  Kni. 
I mark him: no Slack, no pray heaven a mark not me, but i'll instantly sue out a divorce, hap what hap shall, but ill's his hap whose wife lies down to all.  Exit Kni. Enter Wages. Wag. 
Of all honest animals your Cuckold is the best,  
For he is sure a Gentleman, and known by his crest.  Sla. 
Of all occupations, that ever man professed,  
In my opinion still doth hold, the Cutpurse is the best.  Wag: 
And why the Cutpurse?  Sla. 
Because he will trust no man, foe as soon as he hath lone his work, he is sure to have his money in his hand.  Wag. 
Nay then a lawyer is a better trade than that, for he is sure of his money before he doth his work.  Sla. 
But I pray thee what's the news abroad now?  Wag. 
Why they say the world is like a Bias bowl, and it runs all on the rich men's sides: others say, 'tis like a Tennis-ball, and fortune keeps such a Racket with it, as it tosses it in to times hazard, and that devours all, and for my part they say, 'twill shortly run upon wheels with me, for my Master swears a will have me carted, because 'a thinks I have lain with my Lady.  Sla: 
Nay then 'twill run upon wheels with thee indeed, but peace fool peace, when thou art once married, that suspect will die.  Wag. 
Peace fool peace, sayst thou when I am married? dost hear? I tell thee, there is no piece in marriage, unless it be with a dumb woman, no nor but little comfort neither.  Sla: 
No way? why doth the Ballad say then, So sweet a thing is Love, that rules both heart and mind, there is no comfort in the world, to women that are blind.  Wag: 
Kind (man) the Ballet says.  Sla. 
Mass I think a be kind indeed, yet blinds the better of the two I think, for as thou sayst, if she be dumb, I am sure she'll say nothing that shall offend her Husband: if blind, she'll see nothing that shall offend her, and where he nor she's offended, there must needs be a peace: but besides this is there no peace thinkest thou in the marriage of a wife.  Wag. 
Yes by the man's, side like a Gentleman only by the father's side, but 'twill near be any perfect peace.  Sla. 
Why, why wilt thou marry then?  Wag. 
Because I hope to have some good behaviour of my wife, for the peace I never look for: but soft ye fellow Slack, methinks your suit is like a hard hearted Landlord, it begins to receive great rents.  Sla. 
ay, I would, my Master had given me a suit of Buff when he gave me this.  Wag: 
Phoe, buff is nought man, that hath been out of request quest ever since Soldiers have been out of date, and they poor men are now used like Almanacs of the last year, either clap-vp behind the door, or thrust clean out of door: but if thou wilt have a suit that shall last indeed (lad) get thee a suit of law.  Sla. 
O, I do not like such suits, for commonly they that have many of them go almost naked for want of clothes, yet I cannot deny but they are very lasting, but they are subject to many discommodities: so if there be any goodness in one of them, your Lawyers like moths, eat shrewd holes to it, but your Country Attorneys like lice never leave wrighting and wrangling till they have crept into it, but when it hath been well worn and grown third bare, they even like Lice drop off, and leave it.  Wag: 
What sayst thou by a suit at court then?  Slac. 
I marry sir, I like that well, for commonly he that hath but one suit when he comes there, hath two ere he come away, for if he sue by Petition, it lies so long in your courtier's pocket, that it is another suit to get his Petition back again. There is none suddenly dispatched of his suit there but a tailor, marry he stays not at all, unless his suit be to have money for his suit, and so he makes his suit two suits too ere he go. But come, shall we go see what follows after our masters new divorce.  Wag: 
Why is a divorced?  Sla: 
ay, I think by this time, for he swore he would be presently. By my troth, I am sorry for it, for in my conscience it is without cause, it grieves me to see him in these humours, for I thank his Worship he hath ever used me well, I am bound to pray for his life.  Wag. 
And methinks that's a strange thing, I see no reason for't that any servingman should pray for his masters life, considering all that he have, is in reversion of him: but come, let's follow him, for if he miss us, he'll fret like a grogram I, and fume like a stew pot.  Slac: 
And let him fume, O would his gall would burst with indignation, then should his temper procreate my bliss, and I enjoy that Saint incarnate: but what shall I do, since base nor noble shape can win, a third i'll try.  
And if that fail knight, go to church and pray,  
For vengeance wings brings on thy lethal day.  Exeunt. Wages. Enter the old Lord alone. Lor. 
He that a long way voyage takes in hand, fears dangerous gusts at sea, and storms:  
At land conquering cold that cripples cursed age, and doubts lest every cloud should prove a storm, & beat his wearied carcase to the earth. But O, I would to God my longest journey unto death were to be ta'en, for I do cast no doubts, having lost all comfort, My Son, I fear, is dead, The loss of him makes life to me but like a blister on my flesh, which grieves me much, and nought can ease, unless it breaks. O whilst he lived his presence was a force unto my age, & gave it such a luster as did enrich my ring of Life: for life is but a ring beginning in our weakness, going round, till unto weakness we return again, then to the ground. The world itself is but a skilful game at chesses, which being ended, Kings and Queens, Bishops and Knights into one bags are thrown at last: So all of us both poor and rich, shall in the end into the earth, as into a Bag be cast-Mans life is like unto a ship that crossed by tempests and by tides, some thoughts of his like billows swell him up aloft, another strikes him down, Thus man as on a sea is tossed, in fairest weather fears a storm, and in a storm the event, but in the end he sinks, when life is spent: grief hath no bounds in tears, it ebbs and flows.  
Till it have drowned life, and ended woes.  Exit. Enter Lady, Nan, and Wages. Lady. 
But Wages, is there no means (thinkest thou) to turn by it, nor to force back his stream of wrath.  Wag. 
Yes i'll warrant ye Madam, if you'll be ruled by me, you shall see i'll make him seek to be friends with you, & entreat me to speak for him too, but then I would have you seem a little strange: but you shall directly rail on him. Therefore I would have ye hide yourselves here behind the hangings, for 'twill not be long ere he come this way, and than you shall come forth and frame your behaviour according as our discourse shall require.  Nan: 
Mass here he comes, let's stand close.  La. 
we will, and heaven assist thy projects.  Enter Knight. Kni. 
Now Wages, what news with you?  Wag: 
That which I think will help you from being divorced.  Kni. 
What's that?  Wag: 
Why your Lady is not with child.  Kni. 
is't possible?  Wag. 
Why how should she, unless some Hobgoblin, some Incubus or spirit of the buttery should beget it? why she, since you were gelded, never saw a man but through a window: she hath never trod her foot awry, for fear some ill construction should attend her steps, which like a boundless Ocean deep enraged, would drown her reputation.  Kni. 
Not with child sayst thou?  Wag. 
Not of my word sir.  Kni. 
Wages I would thou wouldst but do some charitable offices.  Wag. 
What? make ye friends again?  Kni. 
True.  Wag. 
But you'll prove false, and break that friendship?  Kni. 
Never, as I hope to be reconciled, therefore tell me, wilt thou do't?  Wag. 
Hum: truly I would do my good will, but I fear 'twill be but labour lost.  Kni. 
I pray thee do but try: i'faith thou shalt not lose thy pains.  Wag. 
O lass sir, you know I must feed on Quails.  Kni. 
That was in my fury man, but wilt thou not do it?  Wag. 
Pray sir, if you can get some other friend to speak in 't, do.  Kni. 
Well, thou wilt leave me now then?  Wag. 
Alas Sir, what would you have me do? by my troth sir, I am ashamed to speak in't: have ye not gelded and cut off all the content of marriage? why they that have the full performance of it, 'tis as much as they can do to please their Wives, and you that want all ability, must not only please her now, but make her amends for the wrong you have done her heretofore, and how have I the face to promise that which I know you have no means to perform it?  Kn: 
Alas man, i'll do my good will.  Wag. 
Do your good will, and that's much worth sure, yet since you have been my master, the world shall not say but i'll do what I can, i'll persuade what I may, ye shall see there shall be no fault in me. Enter the Lady and Nan .Mass here she comes: what will you do now?  Knight 
O, I'll hide me here, and so I shall hear all what she says.  Wag: 
O this is excellent, come, come, come, and stand close, ye shall hear how i'll speak for ye: and if ye hear your pardon granted, come forth.  Kni. 
I warrant ye.  Wag. 
Morrow Madam.  Lad. 
Morrow Wages.  Wag: 
Morrow Mistress Nan.  Nan: 
Morrow Wages.  Wages. 
The Fox is caught, his head is in the noose.  Nan: 
peace, speak soft, persuade, persuade.  Wages 
Faith Madam I have a suit unto you, but I am half ashamed to speed in't.  Kni. 
'slight, the rogue says he is ashamed to speak for me, hist Wages, hist wages.  Nan. 
Madam, your man would make an ill suitor, that is ashamed to speak in his suit.  Wag. 
What the Devil ail you, what are you made you'll be spied anon.  Knight. 
A pox on thee, art not ashamed to tell her that thou art a shamed to speak for me? hist, hist, Wages.  Wages: 
I think the Fool rides you, what will you have?  Kn. 
Dost hear Wages, speak for me, and by this light i'll mend thy Wages.  Wag. 
By how much?  Kni. 
forty shillings.  Wag. 
forty shillings?  Kni. 
Three pound, three pound.  Wag. 
Give me your hand, i'll do it  La. 
But what's your suit Wages?  Wag. 
That you would forgive your Husband,  Lady. 
What and receive his love again, you mean?  Wag. 
I Madam.  La. 
Marry there were a jest indeed, being as he is now, a Woman would be loath to turn him amongst her ducks: truly Wages I am ashamed in your behalf, that a man of your discretion would urge it, therefore prithee speak no more on't, I'll tell thee what, I could find in my heart to speak for him myself, but that 'tis such a jealous fool, that if he catch but a Flea in her bed, he will be searching to see if it be a male or a female, for fear 'a comes to Cuckold him.  Lad: 
Well Wages well: to tell thee truly, I bear no malice, and if I wist he would amend, I should forgive and love him with my heart again.  Enter Knight. Kni. 
Ye faith I will wife.  Lady. 
Why how now Wages, have you betrayed us?  Wag. 
ay, Madam, but 'tis into the hands of those that love ye.  Nan. 
Well Wages well, I did not think you would have used us thus.  La. 
Is there honesty in this, to set a man behind the hangings to eavesdrop our words.  Kni. 
Be not angry sweet wife, i'faith it was my plot, but you have been a heavy enemy of mine.  Nan. 
'twas more for my credit then to have been your light friend.  Knight 
Be friends with me good wife, for here I do confess.  Na. 
Your jealousy sprung from your own unworthiness.  Kni. 
'tis true.  Lady. 
Then in hope you'll kinder prove, I am content, For this know, a Woman's heart will soon relent.  Kn. 
Then, come sweet wife, let's in,  
And Wages, thy pains deserves to be requited,  
For separated hearts, hast thou united.  Exeunt omnes. Enter Nuecome singing with a Glass in his hand, and making himself ready. Nan. 
La, la, la, la, la, they marched out manly by three, and by three, and the foremost in Battle, was Mary Hanbrie. Will you hear of a Spanish Lady, how she wooed an Englishman: hum, hum, hum.  Boy. Boy: 
Here sir.  Nue: 
Is the tailor gone?  Bo: 
Gone, sir.  Nue: 
Go fetch me my doublet their,  Bo: 
I go sir,  Exit Boy. Nue. 
Hum, hum, hum, by the greatest terror to Gentility, which indeed is Creditors and Sergeants, this roguy tailor came upon me with such a bill as a man were better have ten Constables and their Watches come upon him with their bills: why good words, or a dozen of ale will please them, but nothing will stop this rogues mouths but money: and yet i'faith I am greatly in his books, for though I misuse him never so much, yet the Rogue durst not cross me. Enter Boy .Let me see Boy, mass 'tis a pretty Doublet.  Boy. 
The tailor sir, entreats you to remember your day.  Nue: 
My day? God's light, my day? why what doth a take me for, I think?  Boy. 
'a takes you for a Gentleman sir, I think.  Nue: 
A Gentleman, and remember my day, no, i'll hold my life he takes me for some Merchant or Citizen, but i'll make him know my strength, ere I leave him, he shall find a second Sampson of me. I can break my bond's boy, I can, I can.  Boy: 
But come sir, will you try your doublet first.  Nue. 
O ay, come, come pluck, but take heed of my ruff I pray thee: this doublet is too little, a pox in him.  Boy: 
Not now, he is on sir.  Nue. 
No when he is off, I mean boy.  Boy: 
Believe it sir, but it becomes ye well though.  Nue: 
Doth it indeed? mass I think it do, methinks I have a reasonable good leg in't.  Boy: 
So you have sir, but your heel is a little too short.  Nue: 
Yea, why too short?  Boy: 
Because your long heel sir doth always best become your great Calf.  Nue: 
Why? my Calf is not very great.  Boy: 
O sir yes, why a man shall not see a greater Calf of your age, for I think you are not above twenty.  Nue: 
Not so much, but come help off my doublet now.  Boy: 
I will sir.  Nue: 
Come, i'll see how 'twill look here, and go thou and watch the door, that nobody come the whilst, hum, hum, hum, if I had a band for't.  Boy: 
Why that about your neck sir.  Nue: 
But what if anybody should come the whilst?  Boy: 
Why do not I keep the door?  Nue: 
Mass that's true: hum, hum, hum.  
O 'tis Master Newcome, I know him, a fine Gentleman i'faith i'll salute him by and by as I pass. Master Newcome I take it, I cry ye heartily mercy good Master Newcome, I am glad to see you in good health sir, I shall entreat you to pardon me, I protest I did not know you in that suit, you have a very fair doubleton, the Gods give you joy sir: There is never a Lord in the Land may be ashamed to wear it sir, rap, rap, rap, rap.  
God's light carry away my Doublet quickly, quickly, quickly.  Boy: 
I warrant ye sir.  Enter a Messenger. Enter a Servingman. Nue: 
God's precious my Band, what shall I do now?  Ser. 
By your leave sir, my mistress, mistress Peg sent to see how your worship doth.  Nue. 
I thank her very heartily, I pray commend me to her.  Ser. 
I'll do your commendations sir, but I pray you be covered sir, I pray yond be covered.  Nue. 
I thank ye heartily, 'tis for mine ease, the weather is hot, hot, very hot.  Ser. 
So it is indeed sir, well sir, by your leave sir, i'll be so bold sir as to carry your commendations sir.  Nue. 
Do so good friend, farewell, farewell.  Exit. Serving. 
What a beast was I to put off my band, yet the griefs the less, because he came from Peg, which is a Wench I must confess dotes on my exterior virtues, but I can by no means affect her: only, because the poor Wretch, in heat of her passion shall not melt herself away in tears, she sometimes enforceth me to swear and protest I affect her, marry always with mental reservations for my soul's health, for you know that sometimes it is policy Courtiers and Statesmen should use fallacy.  Exit Nuecome. Enter the Lady with a servant. La. 
Give charge unto the cook 'a make not too much haste with supper, for I hope your master will be here tonight, and look you keep fast the door, let no man trouble me.  Ser: 
I will Madam.  Lrd. 
Now thanks gentle heavens, O be you smiling still on my designs, and let your influence pour down good fortunes, and be not angry, nor no more malevolent, but make my husband's reconcilement irrevocable.  Enter Captain Wouldly, and Servingman. Ser. 
Sir, I shall be shent for letting of you in.  Cap. 
'sblood I tell thee I will speak with her, what wouldst thou bar my chance when my whole fortunes lies on the cast.  La. 
O heavens, stars, fates, Gods smile not like Summer on these Wasps no longer, that daily bussing come to sting my honour.  Cap: 
Save thee sweet Lady, I hear thy husband is from home, which makes me come to tender thee my person's love.  Lad. 
Your parson's Love (sir) is most commonly a benefice, O that I should be troubled with this Ass now, do you hear sir, if my husband should come and find you here we were both undone.  Cap. 
Your husband, your husband is an ass, by this light and he should offer you but an ill look in my sight, 'twear better he had no eyes: but 'tis your own fault that would not ere now accept of the love of a Soldier, to have kept the slave in some awe.  Ser. 
O! how reproachfully the Captain swaggers, i'll away, for fear he grow furious.  Exit servant. Cap. 
But dost hear me sweet Lady, I have loved thee long, and must now enjoy thee. Fear nothing: this warlike sword of mine shall defend thine honour, this Martial blade shall do't: life it shall i'faith.  Rap, rap, rap. La. 
Hark, hark, my husband is come.  she looks through the door. Cap: 
Your Husband, ha! where, where?  La. 
'tis not he? but i'll try my captains valour now. O sir, my husband, what shall I do now, he hath a Pistol in his hand too, he will kill us both.  Cap. 
A pistol? cods my life, what shall I do then? I pray hide me somewhere.  La. 
O no! as ye love me, must enjoy me, and will defend my honour, draw forth this warlike sword: this is the martial blade must do it, therefore I beseech you good Captain now or never.  Cap: 
God's precious woman, he hath a pistol, a sword no shield against a bullet. receive, & then to have, hold, manure & occupy in statu quo prius, that is in the state before & I do not doubt but your grant in this case will be good, for there is a case that proves this in quinto of Rich the third: a patron was seized of an advowson in fee, with two nuns appendent, & thereunto presented a parson, with a proviso, that if the incumbent should alien grant, demise, let, set, or otherwise put away the premises, or any part or parcel thereof, that then it should be lawful for the patron (or his assigns) in and upon the whole to re-enter. The null aliened, the Patron entered, the Quare was, whether those two Nuns were any part of the premises, & by virtue of the proviso subject to the re-entry: & after long dispute it was agreed by all the Court, that the entry was good, as well in the two Nuns, as in the rest of the premises. Then much more in this case, where we are both lay men.  Lady 
Sure this fellow thinks he hath some right to me, & he hopes to win me by law, but what think ye: if my husband should come and enter now upon us two, in what case were you?  Ex. 
Why well enough, perchance he would complain of me to the bench, and then I should be put out of commons: that's the worst he could do, & that 's nothing; for I was once put out of commons before, for beating of the panyard man: and in again within three days after.  Enter a Servant: Ser. 
O Madam, madam, what will you do? my master is come as I am a living man.  Lady 
O lass sir, what shall I do with you?  Exh. 
Why hide me somewhere, cannot ye hide me here?  La. 
O no, no, no, he doth use to search all the house still, to see if he can find anybody here, but i'll tell ye what ye shall do, draw out your rapier and go out against him, & whatsoever question he ask you, make him no answer, but only say, ye doubt not for all this, but you shall meet him and be revenged well enough in another place, and leave the rest to me.  Exh: 
I warrant ye.  Exeunt exhibition and Servant Enter Knight. La. 
Come out, come out man.  Cap. 
'slight woman your husband will see me.  Lady 
Spretious man, that's all one, come out, come out, draw your sword, hold it in your hand, make some show of resistance.  Cap. 
'sblood woman he hath a pistol.  Lady 
He hath none, he hath none, by this hand I did but jest.  Cap. 
Nor no other weapon?  La. 
Nor no other weapon?  Cap: 
I'faith.  La. 
Why will ye not believe me? i'faith he hath not.  Captain 
Well then, well, nay I care not if he had.  Enter Knight and Wages. Kni 
Why how now Wife, what's the matter? what stir have we here?  La. 
Why husband did you not meet a man with a rapier drawn in his hand?  Kni. 
Yes, and here's another.  La. 
Alas husband, he would ha' killed this poor Gentleman, but that he came and ran in here for shelter, and because I would not suffer him spoil him here in your house, he is gone in such a rage as you never saw.  Kni. 
My faith, and he swore indeed he would be revenged in another place: did he not Wages?  Wag. 
he did indeed sir.  Kni. 
Believe me, and he might easily have slain you sir, for he had a very long rapier.  La. 
True, I know myself he had the better weapon, or else I would near a stood so against him.  Kni. 
ay, had I such a rapier, I would ha' made him run like an Irish Lackey.  Lady 
ay, to have overtaken ye.  Kn. 
Well wife, believe me, I thank ye for this: for I would not for the wealth of all this town he should ha' hurt him in my house, well sir you shall sup with me: and after supper i'll conduct you to your lodging myself, but fear nothing.  Cap. 
I thank you sir.  Exeunt. Knt La Cap   


Actus Quinti Scaena prima.  Enter Knight and slack. Sla. 
Why did you not perceive it?  Kni. 
Not, I protest.  Sla. 
O monstrous! why did she not say herself, she knew he had the better weapon, for which cause she stood against him, meaning Bawdry, flat bawdry, and yet you could not perceive it: now by this light, had you slept but one foot lighter, ye had taken them in the very fact, but you go dreaming hanging down your head, that 'tis no marvel your wife makes you a Cuckold: for the husband being the wives head, why when the head goes down thus, the heels must needs mount up.  Kni. 
I'll never more hear of reconcilement, but be divorced immediately.  Sla. 
straight put her away, why you may have wives enough.  Kn. 
O wives too much.  Sla. 
There's your wives Kinswoman mistress rich, virtuous Peg, she is fair, modest, honest, chaste, wise, sober, discreet and honourable.  Kni. 
And would 'a be acquainted with me fall'st?  Sla. 
Who?  Kni. 
The man thou speakest of.  Sla. 
Why I speak of none, I talk of a woman,  Kni. 
And have all these good conditions.  Slac: 
ay, why not?  Kni. 
Dost know her.  Sla. 
I.  Kni. 
Hark then, rent a chamber, hang out her picture, take twelve pence a piece at the least,  
For enough will come I know:  
To see that which none else can show.  Slac. 
'slight I think the man be mad, but will ye not have her sir?  Kni. 
Yes, if thou tell true, who would not have her: but first make winged speed to purchase my divorce, hold here's money, make haste, use no delay,  
For all men must for expedition pay.  Sla. 
I go, and you shall be divorced or else my brain shall sweat: for what your folly loseth, my wit shall get.  Exit slack at one door, and enter Wages at the other. Kni. 
O Wages, i'll tell thee news, I have sent for a divorce, and what wilt thou say when I am married to a new wife?  Wag. 
Then sir will I say as the proverb says, marriage and hanging comes by destiny: but if ye be divorced, & will follow my counsel you shall hang yourself, rather than marry again.  Kni. 
No Wages, I do not hold that so good: for sure, marriage is better than hanging in some.  Wag. 
True, in some respect, and that only because you have a longer time of repentance, but I pray sir, be't a christian that you mean to marry?  Kni. 
A Christian! ay, why dost think I would marry a Jew?  Wag: 
I do not like that so well sir, because it is the fashion amongst them to send Capons to their Godfathers for New years gifts, and upon my life sir, she'll one time or other clap you up in a basket, and send you away for good handsel: but I pray sir who is it?  Kni. 
Peg, is she not a fine Gentlewoman?  Wag. 
Beyond praise.  Kni. 
Hath she not a piercing eye?  Wag. 
And 'twere a Ferret.  Kni. 
A delicate nose.  Wag. 
And it were a Mulberry.  Kni. 
Teeth like two rows of orient pearl.  Wag. 
But the string is broken & many of them are fallen out.  Knight 
Hands as white as Pelops shoulder.  Wag. 
ay, and as thick too.  Kni. 
Wages.  Wag. 
Sir.  Knight 
Go to her, and measure by thy protestations the depth of my affections: tell her what I will be to her, not what I have been to others: if she allege to thee her cousin's presupposed wrongs, tell her, I well could have been hoodwinked to her cousin's faults, so I had never seen her face.  Wag. 
But what shall I tell her if she say you are gelded?  Kni. 
I there's it indeed, there is no excuse for that: yet thou mayst tell her, I did it only to preserve my voice. Deliver this jewel to her hand, and with it even my heart's affection.  Wag. 
I will sir, and if the Wenches close my projects carry, spite of mischance you shall your own wife marry.  Exit Wages. Kni. 
Now must I be frolic, learn to speak well, and woo with a good garb: and now I think on't, I have a pretty conceit of mine own, I will tell her that the wooing of a young wench, is the felling of a tree, and the getting of her friends good will, like the lopping of the tree, therefore first it behoves me to hew down the tree & then i'll climb with ease: but if at first to fell it I be not able, t' assay to climb it shall be in vain. Welcome, hast thou brought the divorce.  Enter slack Sla: 
'tis here sir.  Kni. 
Come then, let's in, it joys me much that thou so soon hast sped,  
For hours seem years, till it be published.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Lady, Nan, and Peg. Nan.. 
But tell me good Madam, why are you so melancholy?  La. 
To think upon the saucy importunity of my Servant Slack: he is like a badge on a coat, he is never off, off my sleeve, and yet I shun him like the pest.  Peg: 
And he follows you like infection.  Nan: 
Nay I would he did so by me, for I protest I love him beyond my thoughts, I covet nothing like his company, and yet he hates me, loathes my sight, but then comes the Welshman your love, and he hangs on my lips like a Padlock on a pedlar's Budget.  Peg: 
And hates me as much, for if I come but near him, he swears I am like a Kybe, always at his heels.  Nan: 
Come Madam, do not grieve at that which grief can no way mend.  Lady 
I would not, if I could mend that which doth cause my grief.  Enter Wages. Wag. 
News, news.  Nan. 
What news.  Wages 
You are divorced.  La, 
Why divorced, why? ha, speak.  Wag. 
Nay, I cannot speak the cause Madam? but questionless 'tis true, and mistress Peg, my master now makes love to you.  Peg. 
To me?  Na: 
To thee, I to thee, go thy ways, thou shalt be a Lady, I ever thought thou wouldst come to some promotion, as the boy did that had a bag and a staff and begged for himself, but how dost thou know he is in love with her.  Wa. 
Know't why I have seen him stand an hour together behind an Oaken tree, calling it sweet mistress, kind Peg and making speeches to it.  Na, 
As how? as how? prithee how?  Wages 
Stand you for the tree, and i'll speak for my Master.  Nan.. 
I will, and that most stiffly i'faith.  Wa. 
Then thus he begins: Dear mistress Peg I must confess.  Na. 
Nay then he is a dead man already.  Wa. 
Why?  Na,, 
Why confess and be hanged ever.  Wages 
O ho, but I mean he doth confess she's fair.  Nan. 
That's all one, he's but one man, and one witness can never prove her fact, but prithee on with thy speech.  Wag. 
Why then this fair Mistress I must confess.  Nan: 
But he will not confess before witness will he?  Wag. 
Push, did not I tell you he would speak to an Oak.  Nan: 
Nay, than that will be a strong proof indeed.  Wag. 
Proof, Nay, if that be not proof, how say by this token.  Na, 
I marry sir, would we had more such tokens of his love.  Wag: 
This Mistress he hath sent to you.  Peg. 
Look you Madam, your husband now makes love to me.  Na. 
Sir how pert thou art, why look woman, your love as mad woes me, and to me sent this ring.  La. 
And my man the man you so esteem, spite of refusal left with me this chain.  Na. 
This chain: for ever may he linked be to woe, that hates my love, and woes another so.  Wag: 
Well, let's in, and be but patient all a while, for if the worst do fall, that ever did fall,  
A plots in chase that shall out strip them all  Exeunt. Omnes. Enter Knight and Cupid before him. Knight 
Now if she should refuse my jewel and contemn my love, or contemn my love, and take my jewel: what a fool was I to send her a token till I had some token of her affection, as if women might be wooed with gifts, for when we give them those things which most we love, they do esteem we love them better than those things we give, when they poor fools do but deceive themselves, for we do live as merchants venture, for a treble; again we send them tokens only to get them and their portions. But there comes my persecutor.  Enter Lady. La. 
Why dost thou haunt me like a Ghost, thou female inner: thou hast not holy church in thy power with all hit commandments, to keep me from thy unhallowed presence: how durst thou break the Edict pronounced by the mouth of holy Church Man? art thou not Divorced? is not our separation blown into the people's ears, even by Jehovah's chosen Trumpeter? First, thou didst break thy vow to me, and madest of every Priapus a Trumpet; on which thou blowedst thine own infamy: therefore avoid, thou leauend lump of sinfulness, avoid.  
O my still beloved Husband, like filth or dirt, do not flay me like a Serpent, which comes to sting thy bosom; I come to kiss; Sweet let not suspect divorce me from thy presence, though from thy bed: 
For if you will trust this masked face, I know:  
No fountain purer than my Love would show.   Kni. 
I fly, and hate thee like a serpent's hissing, which comes to sting me with pretence of kissing.  Exit Knight. 
O fainty tears, and feeble hands, for ever may you close, and never part till sharpest grief have cut the heartstrings of my life. Or else let this same brain of mine dissolve to tears, and drop itself even drop by drop, until it make a Sea of woes, that therein I may drown my wretched life.  Enter slack. Slack. 
Alas poor Lady, I pity your calamity, and grieve to see you bruised by my masters injury, which makes your eyes like sponges drop these brinish tears, and spoils a Face, such as was never better one framed by the skilful hand of Nature.  Lady. 
Avoid thou slave, how durst thou woe me? I am like a star to thee; my Orb's above thee.  Slack. 
O! then my Love is a most clear and brightest star: look not with a malevolent Aspect upon me, but let your eyes bright raise up my life, and so extol my thoughts  Lady. 
Perish may thyself and love together:  
Heavens grant again, I near may hear of either.  Exit Lady. Slack. 
What shall I do?  Enter Nan. Nan. 
Respect her most, that most of all loves you.  
O! do not turn away those Eyes, whose radiant beams first nursed my flame.  Slack. 
Avoid thou unresistible Torturer, more fretting to my thoughts than cankers are to Metals. How often have I told thee of my hatred? For of this be thou sure and still remembered: deep hate (like love) can hardly be dissembled.  Exit slack. Nan. 
ay, dost thou hate me then? O brightest Venus,  
Now or never make thy blind Son see; and wound his heart, whose hate hath wounded me.  Enter Nucome. Nuc. 
Oh here she is; pray God my Band sit well. Fair Lady, may I presume with the Bee to suck Honey from thy lips, for I dreamed the last night.  Nan. 
Nay, I thought he would woo me dreaming like a Welshman.  Nuc. 
That I was transfigured, metamorphosed, or transformed into a flea in thy Bed.  Nan: 
But did I not kill ye then?  Nuc. 
Me thought you did did, but first I dreamt I flung you.  Na. 
Yet again dreaming, i'll talk no more, but be gone; for fear I wake him.  Exit Nan. Nuc. 
And then methought, as I was skipping from your knee unto your thigh, & so forth; you told a Gentleman of it, a friend of yours; who most courtly and softly putting in his hand to catch me. Spretious she's gone, sure 'tis the acuteness of my ingenuity, which makes my jests so stinging, as she cannot endure them: I must needs eat some of your new court-water-gruel, to qualify my my invention.  Enter Peg. Peg. 
Thou needest not love, speak what thou wilt, if gently thou do speak, thy words to me are much more Musical than is a siren's voice. Orpheus himself could never strain his high stretched strings to such Melodious sounds, as when thy voice doth pierce the ear.  Nuc. 
'tis but for my wit she loves me: I sent her tricks already: for Courtiers must as well thriving be, Have Noses to smell out, as Eyes to see.  Enter Nucome. Peg. 
Despised, and left alone, filled brim full of grief, and no way to unload me of my cares.  
But through these running eyes, in streams of tears.  Enter Knight. Kni. 
Whose tears like to a clear, yet poisoned source, have with their vapours through these eyes (the windows to my heart) infected all my thoughts. Thy eyes do shoot forth glances like to stars, though seated in a moist and rainy Sky, the which hath wounded even my heart, and I must die; Lest Achilles lance-like, healed by your eye.  Peg. 
I pray you seek somewhere else, if you be ill,  
For I in Surgerie-haue little skill.  Exit Peg. Kni. 
I'll follow my suit, not ceasing till the most of trial,  
For he's a fool in Love that makes denial.  Exit Knight. Cupid. 
Here hath been a Maze, a Round, a whirling in Love,  
How like the spokes of a ladies Coach-wheels  
They run one after another:  
And as of them you see neither,  
So none of these can overtake either.  
And though you see them thus forsaken,  
They shall be married, but mistaken:  
Which for performance yet a while,  
I must be labouring to beguile.  
Only the men, and make them venture,  
To run a Circle far from Centre  
Of their hopes; yet for their good,  
Where blinded each like Hawk in hood,  
Shall Marry better than they Wooed.  Exit Cupid. Enter Lady and Wages. Wages. 
Nay madam, it must needs be so, or else the Priest will never Marry me.  La. 
And so you would have us all be Married masked.  Wages. 
True, to which you all may easily persuade your Lovers, telling them with my Marriage, will be with much the less suspect effected.  Lady. 
But say, who shall know us, when our Faces are not seen?  Wages. 
The better; for then you shall appoint each one of them, to choose you by their own Tokens, which you within yourselves shall change: Mistress Peg shall wear Mistress Nan's Ring, Mistress Nan your Chain, and you Mistress Pegs jewel.  Lad: 
But shall they need to come naked too?  Wag. 
O ay, by any means, only for some private reasons unto me, in which persuasion if you will practise that you know, you will prevail.  Lady. 
I'll do my best most willingly.  Wages. 
Then come Madam, let's in: I know it will do.  
For this is held a principle in Schools,  
Love makes not fools wise men, but wise men fools.  Exeunt omnes. Enter four Boys. 1. 
Nominativo, hic, haec, hoc.  2. 
A Noun is the name of a thing.  3. 
Amo, amas, amavi, amare.  4. 
In speech be these eight parts.  Enter Master Correction, and Wages. Ma. Cor. 
I promise you sir, I had Dined forth today, but that you see the weather is Cloudy, and the Heavens lower on my delights.  Wages. 
I pray you sir, whose Son is that bigger Boy?  M. C. 
It is Master Parmisin's son the Cheesemonger, and the next to him is Master cavetas' son the Ferryman, two very pretty sparks i'll assure you. Tobias Parmasin, come hither Tobias, hold up your head Tobias, and look and you can see a penny in my brow: So, 'tis well done; What part of speech is Mentula?  1. 
A noun Adjective.  M. C. 
And why a noun adjective?  1. 
Because it stands not by himself, but it requires another word to be joined with it.  M. C. 
Mark you Sir, I teach both substance and meaning; I do not teach as your common people, d, oh, b, a, b, b, bottles; Go sit you down again Tobyas, timothy, come ye hither timothy: How construe you this verse timothy? I am, iam, Tacturus, Sidera summa putes.  2. 
I am, iam, O john, john, putes, do thou put, Sidera, summa, cider in Summer, Tacturus, in tankards.  Wages. 
A very forward child, I promise ye.  Maist. C. 
Go sit you down again: Will you hear them all examined Sir?  Wag. 
Moss willingly good good Master Correction.  M. C. 
Ye shall sir; Sir, I have taken as much pains with them, as any Poet whatsoever could have done, to make them answer upon their Q. with good action, distinction, & deliberation: ha, ha, ha, how many devils are there?  2. 
Number infinite.  M. C. 
Look you Sir, there are an infinite number of Devils: What is the Devil?  3. 
A wicked Spirit.  M. C. 
What is the nature of that wicked spirit?  4. 
To work mischief.  M. C. 
On whom doth it work mischief?  1. 
On all mankind.  M. C. 
When hath he most power to work mischief?  2. 
When Man hath taken his liquour.  M. C. 
With what visitations then deludes he mankind?  3. 
With strange Earthquakes.  M. C. 
What is the man's best comfort?  4. 
To sleep and slumber.  M. Cor. 
Look ye now sir, are they not pretty children?  Wag. 
Very pretty, and well taught, I'll assure you sir.  M. C. 
Sir, I will tell you, notwithstanding all these pains I take with them, yet how unkindly their Parents use me: they suffer their younger Children to bewray the Church-porch: And no longer since then Monday last, came the Official, and there being angry with me about other matters, he threw that in my dish, as if I could have helped it: but I answered him sufficiently: For I told him, they that did it, were but the Children and the youth, and youth would break out in despite of his Nose; or the best man's Nose in the parish.  Wages. 
I think ye spend most of your time with your Scholars here: ye keep little other company.  M. C. 
Yes sometimes sir, here was yesterday Master Nucome the Courtier, do you not know him sir?  Wages. 
O very well sir.  M. C. 
He is a fine Gentleman, a good Scholar, and an excellent Naturalist: and truly fell into a great disputation, (peace these Boys there) and our Argument was, whether a Fool or a wiseman made the best Lawyer. He stood for the Wise man, and I most Scholastically, stood for the Fool: and thus I began my Syllogism, (peace these Boys when I bid ye) your wiseman (said I) useth few words, your Fool, much babbling; your best Lawyers use much babbling. Ergo, your Fools makes the best Lawyers.  Wag. 
And believe me sir, 'twas well proved.  Ma. C. 
A flash, a flash, a foolish School-point, a foolish School-point.  Wag. 
O ay, and confuted me too, only by reason of a scurvy old Proverb which says, Children and Fools do always tell true: but your best Lawyers do not always tell true: Ergò, your Fools make not your best Lawyers, a most strong and strange Argument.  Wag. 
I pray Master Correction, let me entreat a Playday for your Scholars.  Ma. C. 
O Master Wages, they do nothing else, they do nothing but play, nothing but play.  Wag: 
Nay good sir, do not deny me, for I have some private business with you of great importance.  M. C. 
Nay then sir you shall prevail indeed: you shall, yet I remember; Dyonisius ille Tyrannus, Scyciliae crudelissimus, crudelissimus Sciciliae Tyrannus ille Dyonisius: says to one of his Pupils: Hue ades, haec animo, concipe dictatuo. So I say unto you all my Masters, reverere Maiores: pluck off your Hats to your betters, and look ye give the Woman the wall, and so go your ways.  Omnes Gratias: Gratias: Gratias: Gratias: Exeunt omnes Scholars. Enter Mistress Correction. Wages. 
Morrow Mistress Correction.  Mistress Cor. 
Morrow good Wages.  Master Corr. 
Morrow sweet Wife, sweet Frisset, sweet Nuptial.  Mistress Corr. 
O Master Wages! how doth your good Master, sir timothy Troublesome? what, doth he think he is a Cuckold still?  Maist. Corr. 
An arrant Cuckold (Wife) believe it.  Mistress Corr. 
Come, come, Husband, you are such another; why do you say so?  Ma. Corr: 
Because it is true, Wife.  Wages. 
Sir, Master Correction you are mistaken, I think he be no Cuckold.  Ma. Cor: 
Good Master Wages talk no more of Cuckolds; I would they were all in the Sea for my part.  Mi. C. 
Husband, can you swim?  Ma. C. 
No Wife, nor I desire not to learn.  Mi. C. 
I would have you in any case appoint with my Husband that I may come masked.  Wages. 
Peace, that plot is already drawn, Master Correction, I am sent unto you from my master, who commends his Love unto you, entreating you will give your diligent attendance this Evening at the Church, because himself upon his Divorce, is privately to be married to a new wife: three other couples he brings with him, they all come masked, yet I will give you private notice what each one is: only I must desire you not to sail.  Maist. Cor. 
Master Wages, your Master is the helm by which my labours are governed: and tell him I will steer all the navy of my actions by his directions: And so pray commend me back to him.  
Well sir then, till then Farewell.  Mai. Cor. 
The like to you sir. Come Wise, I hope that thou shalt thrive, for as all your Cockatrices maintain surgeons by their issues: So doth the Priest and Midwife agree: I set them together, they make work for thee.  M. C. 
And truly Husband, i'll come to their labours, be it at midnight, if they send for me.  Exeunt omnes. Enter Lady, Nan, and Peg. Lady. 
Doth my tire sit well Nan?  Nan: 
Passing well, i'll assure you madam.  Peg. 
Prithee tell me too, how am I dressed?  Nan. 
Why thou art very well dressed too, but basted admirably: for the threads sit in thy Gown, Marry thou want'st a little Cramming.  Peg. 
And that's pity; for I can tell you, I am of myself a rare bit.  Nan. 
Nay then thou art for the servingmen, for your Gallants (I can assure you) ride altogether with a snaffle.  Peg. 
Come, thou hast such a deal of wit.  Nan. 
Indeed I had, before I spent it amongst such unthankful persons as you are Peg; but I prithee pin, my Gown close before: for it.  Peg. 
That I will, but why then dost thou obscure thy Bravery? this thy Petticoat is a great deal richer then thy Gown.  Nan. 
Faith I, I wear my clothes as your Gallants we are their wits, the best side inwards, I scorn to show it.  Peg. 
But for all this Idle talk, I would we had appointed our marriage to morrow morning.  La. 
Then the people would ha' stood gazing on us, and beside, we should have been like thee in dutch, subject to every cobblers interpretation, but now being married in the evening, presently bed time follows.  Peg. 
Phoe, but 'tis not the fashion.  Nan. 
Tut, hang fashion, I love it in nothing but my clothes.  La. 
Why, thou know'st 'tis not the fashion in all places to lie with ones own husband every night. 'slight I had rather lie with a man, and never marry him, then marry a man and never lie with him, come, come, I speak my mind freely, I am none of these simpering wenches that come at every, word & says I forsooth, & no forsooth, & blushes at the sight of a child, it puts her in mind how 'twas made & cries faugh at a wanton lest in a play, and harkens to a bawdy tale in her ear.  Peg. 
ay, 'tis but dishonourable to marry thus in hugger-mugger, men will say we are with child, and are ashamed to show our faces.  Nan. 
Our faces! why our faces I hope do: not show us to be with child, 'tis out bellies shows that, and I hope thou art quick flesh and not dead fish, thou wilt not turn up the white of thy belly, wilt? but prithee tell me, was I not married yesterday?  Peg. 
Yesterday, why dost ask?  Nan. 
Because, like a young married woman that's poisoned before she is bawd, I begin to long already.  Peg. 
For what I pray thee?  Na. 
Faith to be a-bed with my husband.  Peg. 
alas woman, those that are past child bearing, use too long for that too.  Na. 
Nay, but my longing yet methinks stretches a great deal longer, for I long to be a Widow, that I might have a new Husband: yet not for any concupiscent desires, that I have in the world.  Peg. 
No, I think so too, but only a desire thou hast to try the difference of men, and therefore I think thou wert best next to marry an old man with a white head, because thou mayest sleep quiet & not be troubled a-nights.  La. 
By this light I had as live marry a Saint davis leek, no, no, take this of me, wherever thou seest the Snow lie on the Mountains, be assured there's no great heat in the valley.  Na. 
Let me see, I would be a—  Peg: 
A priests wife I warrant ye, because thou wouldest fare costly, and live lazily.  Nan. 
No Nan, then marry a Londoner, for then thou shalt live a life & 'twere a Lady, wear thy gold necklace, and go in thy Velvet cap every day.  Peg. 
True, and then when thy husband is a broad in traffic for commodities, in other countries, why thou mayst deal at home for ready money  Na. 
No not a Londoner by no means.  Peg. 
No, why?  Nan. 
Why if they have but a plague amongst them one week they all cry out of a dead time straight, beside, if they receive but a little loss at sea, they break straight, and where the husband breaks, you know the wife can no longer hold out, she must down too for want of maintenance.  Peg. 
Nay then marry a Soldier, for questionless most of them will use their wives well, for they love their punks exceedingly.  Lady 
O but they have a vile salt too, for they always beget their children by day, and then they be squint eyed, for when the Father looks one way, and the mother another, to see if anybody come the whilst, how can the child look right?  Lady 
What sayst thou by a Civilian Nan.  Nan. 
O no, by no means, for most of their posterity have ill luck, for what their fathers get by bawdy courts, they commonly spend it all again in bawdy houses, No and ever I marry again, i'll marry an Irish Merchant, because they all speak latin, and indeed are most of them Philosophers by fortune: Omnia mea mecum porto, for they carry all their ware in their breech: but come, let us make haste away, I fear out lovers do our coming stay.  Exeunt Om. Enter the old Lord, and the Merchant. Old Lord: 
You see master Venture, the greatest comfort that is left me now, is only in my neighbour's loves, where are these knaves there?  Enter a Servingman, Ser. 
My Lord.  Old Lor. 
What have they supped within.  Ser. 
Not yet my Lord.  Old Lord. 
Why so, thou art an honest knave, go see that none want wine.  Ser. 
I will my Lord.  Exit a Servingman. Old Lor. 
I would not have the worst complain of scarcity or want of any thing, for Master Venture we shall carry nothing with us, for naked we into the world came, without that which we now possess and have, and without it we must unto the grave. Enter Sir john Correction .O Sir john, Sir john, I thank you for your homely today, but it you have a fault sir john, the which in any of your Scholars would deserve a whipping: you are come too late, I and to a feast and all, well, well, well, but you shall fare the worse for this sir john.  Ma. Co: 
I would desire a word in private with your honour.  Old Lor: 
With all my heart: They Whisper They shall be welcome, even exceeding welcome, and I thank you too.  Exit Correction. 
Hark you neighbour, Sir john tells me that to honour me in this my predecessors still accustomed feast, four new married couples are hither come in a mask, newly from the church, their feet not yet since their nuptial, have kissed their own thresholds.  Enter Master correction, Cupid and the maskers dancing Wen. 
'tis Sign ye are well beloved my Lord.  Old Lor. 
I am indeed Master Venture, I am indeed.  
Gentlemen and Women, ye are all welcome even with my heart, I with my heart i'faith. O neighbour Venture my Son and your Daughter now be married, what a joyful mask would this have been.  Ven. 
'tis true my Lord, but they are fled beyond all hope of ever seeing them again.  Old Lo. 
'tis true, 'tis true, yet though the fruit gone be, my grief you see, like leaves stick fast upon this tree. but come neighbour come, let's sit & look upon this youthful dancing mirth, for youth and mirth have danced themselves out at heels with me.  
Nay, pray Gentlemen unmask, that we may know to whom we shall be thankful for this honour, how now my Son?  The first couple unmask and kneel. Ven. 
My Daughter.  Old Lor. 
Now may my blessing raise thee from the ground.  Ven: 
And mine make thee both fruitful, and a faithful wife.  Slack. 
Why what are you?  Na. 
Mistook of you, but such is woman's fantasy,  
Constant in nothing but unconstancy:  
For I that first you most abhorred,  
Loved you a slave, and hated you a Lord.  Slac. 
Well, woodcock like by thy bill, 'tis my hap,  
Thus fast to be catched in a woman's trap.  Nue. 
Now by my conscience I am deceived.  Na. 
No, not a whit, for I will love you ever.  Nue. 
Well, give me your hand then, since 'tis my fate,  
What marriage joins, I'll never separate.  
What now ,remarried? Sir Timothy and his wife unmasked  Na. 
O! I repent it not, this match is double made, and twice hath holy Hymen's fingers tide the knot.  Nue. 
Well, since 'tis thus hence forth i'll love thee ever, for que sera, sera, 'gainst what plots soever, but who is this, master Correction?  Ma. Co. 
A friend of yours. They unmask .Spretious 'tis my wife.  Na. 
O then sir 'tis a friend of yours.  Ma. C. 
Come ye away housewife, come ye from him, come.  Mi. Co. 
Faith sir no, why is he not my husband? did not you yourself marry me to him? but do you hear, you were best be quiet and let me alone, if not, i'faith i'll tell all.  Ma. Cor. 
Tell what thou canst, justice my Lord justice, I beseech ye for justice.  Mi. Cor. 
Nay, I beseech your Lordship too, though I am but a weak vessel called a Woman, & therefore by reason of my bashfulness unable sir to set forth mine own tale, yet I doubt not, but I shall find good hearing at your Lord ships hand, if ye will but give me leave to open mine own case.  Old Lor. 
Speak, what are your grievances.  Mi. Cor. 
May it please your honour in few words, my husband hath four wives, and then I hope 'tis as lawful for me to have two husbands.  Old Lord. 
How do you answer this Sir john?  Ma. Cor. 
And like your honour, I think 'tis as lawful for me to have four wives, as 'tis for my parson to have four benefices, considering I use them as he doth his benefices, for I protest to your honour, I near came near none of them.  Mi. Cor. 
Will not this do it Master Wages?  Wag. 
No, you see he hath answered it.  Mi. Co. 
Nay then and it like your Lordship, I may be divorced for another thing, but that I am ashamed to speak on't.  Kni. 
Nay, you must tell what 'tis.  M. Cor. 
Truly I am half ashamed.  Old Lor. 
Come, come woman, never be a shamed to tell (true.  Mi: Cor. 
And I may be so bold to tell your honour in private.  Old Lo. 
With all my heart.  Mi. Co. 
Truly and like your honour, he hath not that a man should have.  Old. Lo. 
No, why what doth he want.  M. C. 
Nay pray your Lordship to spare me now, faith I am ashamed.  Old Lord. 
Nay good Mistress Correction, I must know what it is.  Mi. Cor. 
Why then sir I must needs tell: truly 'a hath never a beard.  Old Lord. 
Indeed a man should have a beard.  
Well mistress correction, your husband must have you back again:  
And thus in friendship ends long jealous strife,  
With all things well, save Wages wants a wife.  Enter Cupid. 
But Gentlemen, whose judgements sit  
in strict commission on the wit:  
Which from the author's pen did flow  
He wisheth at all but this to know.  
that if you well do censure him,  
He ready is with brains and pen,  
Another time to pleasure you,  
If not, he bids you all adieu.  
For well he knows he hath done wells  
And so he boldly dares to tell.  
Yet for the children ere I go,  
Your censure I would willing know.  
For if you do the Action blame.  
They ready are with pardon drawn  
And each of them here hoping stands  
That you will sign it with your hands.  
FINIS