THE EXAMPLE. As IT WAS PRESENted by her Majesty's Servants At the private House in Drury-Lane.  
Written by JAMES Shirley.  
LONDON. Printed by JOHN NORTON, for ANDREW crook, and WILLIAM COOKE. 1637.   

THE EXAMPLE  

Actus. 1.  Enter Sir Solitary Ploit. _SOl. 
Dormant, why Dormant, thou eternal sleeper!  
Who would be troubled with these lethargies about him?  
Dormant, are you come Dreamer.  Enter Dormant. Dor. 
Would I were so happy, there's less noise in a Steeple upon a Coronation, oh sleep, sleep, though it were a dead one, would be comfortable; your worship might please to let my fellow Oldrat watch, as well as I.  Sol. 
Oldrat? that fellow is a drone.  Dor. 
He has slept this half hour, on the Iron Chest, would I were in my grave to take an nap, Death would do me a courtesy, I should be at rest, and hear no noise of Dormant.  Sol. 
Ha? What's the matter?  Dor. 
Nothing but a yaw sir, I do all that I can to keep myself waking.  Sol. 
'tis done considerately, this heavy dulness,  
Is the disease of souls, sleep in the night,?  Dor. 
Shall I wake my fellow Oldrat, he is refreshed  Sol. 
Do, but return you with him, I have business with both.  Dor. 
To hear us join in our opinion, of what's o'clock, they talk of Endymion, now could I sleep three lives.  Exit. Sol. 
When other men measure the hours with sleep,  
Careless of what they are, and whom they trust,  
Exposing their condition to danger  
Of plots, I wake, and wisely think prevention,  
Night was not made to snore in, but so calm  
For our imaginations, to be stirring  
About the world, this subtle world, this world  
Of plots, and close conspiracy, there is  
No faith in man, nor woman, where's this Dormant?  Enter Dormant, and Oldrat. Dor. 
Here is the sleepy vermin.  Sol. 
Oh come hither; sirrah, where's your Lady?  Ol. 
Out all this night at play sir,  Sol. 
All night, there's some plot, but I am safe  
At home, your gaming Ladies are strange Whirligigs,  
But while she plays, and revels with the gallants,  
Here I am cabled up, above their shot,  
And see in my imagination all there plots,  
Nay, we are the quietest couple, never meet,  
No, not abed, there may be plots in that,  
This part o'th' house is mine, and here I walk  
And see the soul, the very soul o'th' world.  Old. 
It has been Day this two hours.  Sol. 
Then 'tis time for me to go to bed.  Dor. 
Would my hour were come once.  Sol. 
Keep out day light, and set up a fresh taper,  Dor. 
By that time we have dined, he'll have slept his first sleep.  Old. 
And after supper call for his breakfast.  Sol. 
you're sure 'tis morning?  Dor. 
As sure as I am sleepy—  Sol. 
And that your Ladies not come in?  Old. 
As sure as I have the Key.  Sol. 
Is my Niece ready?  Dor. 
Two hours ago sir.  Sol. 
So earlie? there may be a plot in that, say  
Her uncle would speak with her, I use every morning,  
Before I go to bed, to give her counsel,  
In her husband's absence, she is young, and handsome,  
And there be plots i'th' world. Dormant, come hither.  
What Gentlemen do frequently come hither?  
Who does visit her most?  Dor. 
My Lady sir?  Sol. 
My Niece Jacintha sirrah, for my wife  
I will let her alone of purpose yet,  
To mind her game, shuffle, and cut, and dice,  
And dance the brawls, they cannot cozen me.  
Say my intelligence, who does visit most  
My Kinswoman?  Dor. 
The gay Lords often with her.  Sol. 
Who?  Do. 
He that comes every morning like S. George.  Sol. 
Ha!  Dor. 
I do not say to mount her, the Lord—  Sol. 
Fitzaverice.  Dor. 
The same, sir he's the most bountiful Gentleman and makes us all so pray for him.  Sol. 
More plots, he has a vast estate, and though  
Fame speak him noble, I suspect he loves her.  
He has my nephew's Land in mortgage too.  
A mere device, I fathom it, come hither,  
Let not the arras hear us, say what prank  
Of mischief, has he done, he should be bountiful  
To thee? on what suspicion canst deserve it?  
Come be ingenious, and confess.  Dor. 
Who I be ingenious? alas you are deceived.  Sol. 
Be free, this groom conspires.  Dor. 
Do I look like one that would be ingenious?  Knocking at the Gate. Sol. 
What noise is tha? more plots, let me enter,  
They are saucy with my doors, 'tis well they are  
All heart of Oak, and sound to endure the Knocking.  Dor. 
I hear my Lady's footman call the Porter.  Sol. 
I'll keep no Gate that will be knocked of'is fashion  
I think it were a special policy  
To have a kind of a wheel; or turning Engine  
Advanced before my door, and admit none  
Without a Ticket.  Enter Oldrat. Old. 
My Lady is come sir,  Sol. 
Is she alone?  Old. 
The Gentleman that compliments with my Lady,  
And is here half an hour before my Lord still—  Sol. 
Master Confident?  Old. 
The same, he mans her Ladyship, and she is coming this way through the Gallery.  Sol. 
Was ever such an impudence? she won't carry  
Him to her Chamber? new Plots, obscure me hangings.  Enter Master Confident, and Lady Plott. Con. 
I shall report how much his Lordship owes  
For this most noble favour,  La. 
He deserves,  
By many bounties ever to command me,  
And I must thank your pains, but in my Chamber,  
We may discourse more freely.  Con. 
You much honour me.  Exeunt. Sol. 
Bounty, and Lordships, and discourse in Chambers?  
This fellow is a rascal, new new Plots,  Dor. 
If your worship mean to lie with her Ladyship—  Sol. 
By no means.  
How happy am I, that we keep several quarters,  
Some husband would torment himself with watching,  
screw his Nose in at a Keyhole, or in some cranny  
Wedge his long ear, let'em alone, it makes,  
It makes, and my lascivious Gamester find his plots discovered,  
All his wit, gleaned from Italian Sonnets? and loose rhymes;  
His bouncing, and his braves shall not disguise  
His heart from me, I see't, I see't already,  
And laugh that I am alone, and have my humour.  
Oh, 'tis my Niece, away and dress my Pillow.  Exit. Ser. Enter Lady Peregrine. La. 
Good morrow sir.  Sol. 
Morrow? 'tis now my bed time.  La. 
You were pleased  
to send for me.  Sol. 
I did dear Niece.  
Before I go to sleep, I must commend  
Advices to thee, 'tis part of my devotion,  
In brief, because the Day comes fast upon me,  
Have a great care you be not seen too public,  
Your Chamber's spacious enough to walk in,  
there's danger in society, and the World  
Is full of plots,  La. 
What plots?  Sol. 
I know not, but  
Be solitary as I am, and be safe.  
Your husband's debts have made him quit his Country,  
He was an unthrift, nay I spare him not  
Although he were my kinsman, 'twas ill done,  
Whose plot soe'er it were, to lose your Jointure,  
Times are necessitous, but while he drills  
His men abroad, take heed you meet not hotter  
Service at home, there be fine Lords i'th' World,  
And Gentlemen that run, and carry messages,  
And Pages, that bring Jewels, and can whisper  
The bawdy poesies, and so-forth.  La. 
You are not; Jealous of me?  Sol. 
Nor of my wife, I lie  
Alone discreetly, let my Madam play,  
Sit up a nights and gambol,  La. 
And d'ee love her?  Sol. 
At distance, as becomes a politic man,  
That would not sell his state to buy an heir,  
Our looks so seldom do converse, that if  
We should engender at the eyes, she would  
Not teem so often as an Elephant, fool's diet with  
There wives and be in danger of provocatives  
To frisk, and mount the table, precious pastime!  
Come thou art happy; that thy husband's absence  
Hath given thee occasion to be solitary,  
Trust not the air abroad by my example.  
Take heed of plots, and so goodnight.  La. 
Good morrow.  
I thank you for your counsel but it needs not,  
I pitie the condition of this Gentleman,  
That makes his life a penance to seem wise,  
He talks of plots, and is the greatest enemy  
To himself with his vain fears, but why do I  
Discourse of misery without myself,  
That carry in my bosom every minute,  
All that can make a woman miserable?  
Thought of my husband wounds me, yet I cannot  
Be suffered to enjoy it, like a deer  
I am chased by foreign Hunters, and not left  
To think what cruelty at home pursues me.  Enter her woman and a Page. 
You might have known my pleasure, in good manners,  
Ere you admitted any.  Wo. 
'tis but a Page Madam, the poor child  
Wants years to offend.  Exit. La. 
He serves the Lord Fitzamorous  
Beshrew your diligence.  Pa. 
Who commends to your  
Fair hand these Jewels Madam.  La. 
I prithee carry 'em back, their inside's poison,  Pa. 
I would not be corrupted with the one,  
To betray other so, they cannot fright  
When you examine, if you knew his Lordship  
So well, as I would wish, you would accept  
And cherish these presentments, y'are the first  
Lady within my observation,  
That has took time, to ask her conscience  
The meaning of a Jewel, sent by a Lord,  
A young and handsome Lord too; 'tis a thing  
At Court, is not in fashion, and 'twere pitie  
One with so good a face, should be the precedent,  
Of such superfluous modesty.  La. 
Does your Lord  
Instruct you thus?  Pa. 
We take it of ourselves,  
Pages and waiting women are apt by nature  
To understand their office, you may be confident,  
My Lord means honourably, and as becomes  
A Gentleman of high blood, he will visit  
Your Ladyship.  La. 
I shall not need, return him then my thanks,  
By messenger.  Pag. 
I apprehend,  
And wish you a morning fair as your own beauty,  
My humblest duty.  Exit. La. 
How black sin doth scatter  
Her seed betimes, and every ground is fruitful.  Enter Confident, and waiting woman. Con. 
Has she the Paper?  Pa. 
And the jewel too.  Wo. 
I know she'll chide me, but his Lordship's  
Bounty commands I should be serviceable.  Con. 
Away, and wantonness inspire me, Lady.  La. 
More rude intrusions?  Exit Page, and woman. Con. 
Patience noble Madam,  
The message that I bring, is more calm and gentle  
Than the cool wind, that breathes upon the Flowers  
Soft kisses in the Spring, the woollen feet  
Of time do move with a less noise, than mine  
Beneath this happy Roof, vouchsafe your ear,  
And words shall meet your sense, and Court it with  
Swifter delight than apprehension  
Knows how to reach, and when I have let fall  
Love, which doth make all language rich, and told you  
His name that gives his life up in my breath,  
To be made blessed by being yours, you'll wish  
I were all voice, and to that harmony,  
Chain your own soul for ever.  La. 
What do you mean  
By this strange language? pray be clearer, sir,  
If you direct it to my understanding.  
What is your business?  Con. 
I have told you, Madam.  
Love.  La. 
What love I beseech you sir?  Con. 
A love that doth include in his own flame  
What Poets made but fiction in the gods,  
When Earthly beauties tempted them from Heaven,  
A fire which from the bosom of love's priest  
Shoots up religion and a sacrifice  
To what his soul adores, a glorious love,  
And love of you.  La. 
Of me? it will concern  
That I should know him.  Con. 
Had his person been  
A stranger, so much worth, and fame prefers him  
To every noble knowledge, that you cannot  
Be ignorant, what wonder of mankind  
I point at, hath report brought to your ear  
I'th' stack of men, one that hath had the praise  
Of wit, of valour, bounty, a fair presence,  
A tongue to enchant heaven? these wait one him,  
As he, to be your servant: he is a man  
(What pity it is I cannot call him more)  
The pride, and darling both of war, and peace,  
The Lord of many Worlds.  La. 
How sir! He may be bountiful indeed then.  Con. 
With your pardon,  
Shall we allow to every common man  
A little world, and not think him worth many,  
Who hath the price of thousands in himself?  La. 
What miracle is this?  Co. 
He is a man  
So full of all, that thought, or love can be  
Ambitious of, that nothing can deserve him,  
But she alone that hath in her own frame  
Of woman, all that ever praised the sex,  
And these are all your own, make him so too,  
And from your loves, the decayed world shall hope  
To see a race of Demigods.  La. 
I find not  
By all these marks of honour and of goodness  
What person you commend thus  Co. 
Can there be any beside my Lord?  La. 
Your Lord may be  
Besides himself after so great a Character.  Co. 
The Lord Fitzavarice.  La. 
Cry mercy sir,  
I know him, and you might with half the expense  
Of so much wit in blank verse, have expressed  
His purpose, and himself, I thank him heartily,  
But am not so much worth, pray tell him so.  Con. 
Lady, I do not use to thrive so ill  
In my love-undertakings.  La. 
is't your Trade?  
It seems so, by your prompt and elegant way,  
Are you solicitor general for other's,  
In love, tied by your place, never to move  
Conditions for yourself? he is but a Lord  
Whose fame you have advanced thus.  Con. 
You're right, Lady.  La. 
And I was never taught, that wit or handsomeness are assured by patent, d'ee think this Lord  
May not find his peers?  Con. 
No question, Madam.  La. 
This would well be a double Knave.  Con. 
There may be Gentlemen,  
That owe no high and mighty titles, Madam.  La. 
As gracious with a Lady;  Con. 
And as active;  La. 
With wit, with valour, bounty, a fair presence,  
And tongue to enchant heaven.  Con. 
As I would wish,  
I only was ambitious to enjoy her  
After my Lord, if once she were corrupted?  
Venus send me good luck, and I be  
His taster, but he's here.  Enter Lord Fitzavarice. 
Trust me another time.  Lo. 
Hast prevailed?  Co. 
I have taken off the impossibility,  
Or she deceives me much: To her yourself,  
I'll take my opportunity.  Exit. Lo. 
Still Melancholy?  
What d'ee mean Lady?  La. 
I have kept a Jewel for your Lordship.  Lo. 
Will she come to't already?  La. 
And because  
I would not be held guilty of ingratitude,  
Not furnished with a gift worth your acceptance,  
I must present your own again.  Lo. 
Why this  
I sent you, Madam, do not so dishonour me,  
I have plenty of these trifles shalt have more,  
Richer and brighter to attend thy beauty,  
Here they will shine in their own place.  La. 
I dare not accept of any, they are dangerous.  Lo. 
They are not poisoned.  La. 
Yes more killing than  
The teeth of Serpents, or the viper's blood,  
Without a charm, they had ere this undone me.  Lo. 
Pray make your sense familiar to me.  La. 
Can you seem ignorant, by whose direction  
They were sent hither, oh my Lord, but think,  
What honour you can gain out of my ruins.  
Why do you still pursue me with this heat  
Of sensual flame, and send these tempters to me,  
After so many vows, to keep my faith,  
And name unstained?  Lo. 
Still in these foolish humours?  
What did you marry for?  La. 
To enjoy my husband.  Lo. 
Enjoy him in his absence then by proxy.  La. 
When he is absent from my heart, may  
Consent to be as black, as you would make me;  
But while he hath a constant dwelling here,  
I must lose both at once, if I forsake him.  
Oh think upon yourself my Lord, and make  
Your title good, and justify, that honour  
By ourselves acquired, is richer, then what blood,  
And birth can throw upon us, send no more  
Agents to plead your shame, their errand is  
So foul, it must infect 'em, to be false,  
Even to yourself, my husband is abroad  
To far from home.  Lo. 
he's fighting i'th' low-Countries,  
By his example you may Skirmish here,  
A little, if you please, I do not wish him  
Returned, although I have his land in mortgage,  
If you would be less cruel, you may pay  
His debt in other property, and cancel  
The payment in due time.  La. 
I'll hear no more.  
You have a stayned soul.  Exit. Lo. 
I do love this Lady,  
As Gentlemen now call love, and that extremely.  
she is all nun's flesh about her, but has the devil  
No trick to thaw her chastity? I must have  
Some way to enjoy her body for my credit,  
The world takes notice I have courted her,  
And if I mount her not, I lose my honour.   

Actus Secundus.  Enter Vayne-man Pumicestone, and Scrivener. Va. 
So, so, now we are furnished.  Pu. 
Our acts and deeds are to show for't.  Scr. 
Sigillatum et deliberatum in praesentia notarij.  
Publici. I thank you Gentlemen.  Exit. Scr. Pu. 
In the presence of the notorious Publican.  
But d'ee hear, who shall pay back the money?  Va. 
What money?  Pu. 
The money we ha' taken up to go a-wooing to  
This Kickshaw.  Va. 
Share and share like, however, the security  
Is good, and the Scrivener satisfied.  Pu. 
I have a great mind—  Va. 
To pay it all, shalt have my voice.  Pu. 
Upon condition the Lady would seal to  
Covenants, you should find me reasonable.  Va. 
For that we must take our fates, one of  
Us is sure to carry her against the World.  
He that has least wit, has five hundred  
Pound a year, if that, good clothes, and a  
Handsome man with appurtenances, cannot  
Tempt an elder sister, would she were sent  
To a Nunnery, let's lose no time, but advance to her instantly,  Pu. 
Stay I have it, and no unhappy invention,  
A device, if the worst come to the worst,  
You will thank me sort.  Va. 
What is't?  
Mercury himself be the Doctor Midwife, and  
Deliver thee.  Pu. 
The gentlewoman we aim at, has a great  
Estate, a fortune for a Lord.  Va. 
All this I know.  Pu. 
She has many Suitors,  Va. 
So much the worse, proceed.  Pu. 
But none in grace, makes herself merry with'em,  
And jeers'em mainly, cannot love.  Va. 
What comfort is this for us?  Pu. 
Now I come to't, we two do love this Lady,  Va. 
No matter for that, toth' point  
we come a-wooing to her.  Pu. 
'tis not possible  
we should both draw the prize, but one can be  
Her husband.  Va. 
Of us two, right.  Pu. 
And yet in our particular,  
there's none of us can say, he shall prevail,  
And be the man, the man, that must be Lord  
Of the estate, justle the noblemen. And domineer.  Va. 
What of all this?  Pu. 
Now mark me,  
He that shall conquer this Virginian Island  
And write himself Lord of the Golden-mines,  
Will have a very fine time on't.  Va. 
Very likely, what's the conclusion?  Pu. 
Nay tell me first, what will  
Become of him that must  
Sit down with a willow Garland, that has sealed  
For a thousand pound; with what dear appetite  
Shall he discharge the Scrivener?  Va. 
One on's must lose, unless we could divide her.  Pu. 
Then I have thought a way to make us both  
Gainers, in some proportion.  Va. 
That were a trick worth our learning.  Pu. 
Play your Cards wisely, and 'tis done.  Va. 
As how prithee?  Pu. 
Why thus  
He that shall marry her of us two,  
As one of us must speed, shall enter Bond  
At's marriage, to give the other a thousand pound,  
This composition may be allowed and sealed to,  
If you consider, something will be requisite,  
For them, that go without the maidenhead,  
Debts and devices will grow due, and Sack  
Will not be unnecessary, to forget her health in,  
What think you on't? and whoe'er obtains the Lady  
Will have no cause to grumble at this motion,  
Is not this equal and a certainty for both?  Va. 
Let the Articles be drawn, 'tis a safe bargain,  
here's my hand to't.  Pu. 
A match, the writings,  
Will quickly be prepared, for things must carry  
Formality and law, we do but talk else,  
Va With all my heart, subscribe tonight, who's this?  Pu. 
'tis Confident.  Enter Confident. Con. 
My two ingenious sparks, my Landed wits,  
And therefore more miraculous, what makes  
Your looks exalted, as if Venus were  
Propitious now?  Va. 
Thart right we are in love.  Con. 
I knew't, I read thy Character in your brow,  
I see the desperate Archer in each eye,  
Prepared with golden Shafts to wound your mistresses,  
Their hearts must bleed, no destiny will help it,  
You two are Cupids darlings, and he's bound  
To bring you all the Ladies you can wish for,  
Humble and suppliant for the Game.  Pu. 
Dost think we shall prevail then?  Con. 
Have I ambition  
To be your honourer, and o'th' nuptial night  
Light up my epithalamy, to inflame  
Your bosoms, and instruct your wanton limbs  
The activity of love beyond fierce Aretine.  Pu. 
But dost hear! we are both suitors to one Lady;  
Which dost think shall carry her?  Con. 
To the same Lady!  Va. 
Thou knowest her,  
Jacintha, Lady Peregrine's sister.  Con. 
The glory of her sex, you've placed your thoughts,  
With a discreet ambition.  Pu. 
Who shall have her dost think?  
Speak thy opinion.  Con. 
You, sir.  Pu. 
shall I?  Con. 
Can you appear doubtful?  
Be not so much ingrate to nature's bounty,  
Each part about you in silent oratory  
May plead tooth Queen of Love, you've too much excellence,  
Were all your other graces worn in Clouds,  
That eye, that very eye, would charm a Lucrece,  
And by the golden unresisted Chains  
Draw up her soul, and melt it in your bosom,  
Your presence is a volume of enchantments,  
But move, and every beauty falls before you,  
But if you speak, which needs not to obtain,  
You give a louder notice to the World,  
Then when you list, you conquer, and create  
One accent of your tongue, able to make  
A Niobe return from her cold Marble,  
And spring more soft and active than the Air  
To court your amorous breath.  Va. 
Hum no more, if thou lov'st me, we are upon  
A composition, he that wins the Lady  
Shall give the other a thousand pound:  
If you make him confident to be preferred,  
he'll never sign toth' Covenant.  Con. 
How preferred?  
Under what misconstruction have I suffered?  
Although I name it justice, he should challenge  
The mistress of his thoughts, can you want merit  
Who live the example of all wit, to boast  
A victory in your love? were I a woman  
(As nature only huddles into the world When she sends forth a man) give me licence  
To express my thoughts, and had all that invention  
And truth could add, to advance me to opinion,  
I should be honoured to be writ your servant,  
And call obedience to you, greater triumph,  
Than to be Empress of another world,  
You have so rich a wit, that dotage may  
be justified upon't, and nothing but  
A soul purged from all dregs, and quitted from  
Mortality, can lay a worthy claim to't.  
you've put a question would afflict an Oracle  
To understand, and answer, which of you  
Should triumph o'er a Lady, I am mad  
When I consider the necessity  
Of fate, that one of you must be accepted,  
And both so bounteously deserving. Then,  
If I pronounce again that both must have her,  
You'll pardon my ambition, Gentlemen,  
Which levels with your wishes.  Pu. 
Could I speak thus,  
I would not thank the Lady should run mad for me.  Va. 
Jack prithee let's fancy him,  
He has spoke home and handsomely.  Pu. 
Let it be five pieces, oh wit of wits!  Con. 
You have, Gentlemen.  
A care to enlarge my Library, I translate  
These into books, whose title-page shall own  
Your name in shining Capitals.  Pu. 
Drink, drink Sack.  
And divine the world with thine own wit, 'twill sell,  
Hang other books, wilt never switch a Play up?  Con. 
'las the Comedians have no soul to speak.  Va. 
Nay do not leave us.  
We are going to this Lady, she rendezvous  
Today at Lady Plots, we shall have music, and dancing  
You'll meet my Lord there  Con. 
I am his creature, and your humble servant.  Va. 
Nay no distinction.  Pu. 
What brains some men have?  
I would change all my acres for his Poetry.  Exeunt. Enter Lord Fitzavarice, and Lady Plott. La. Plot. 
Still peevish!  Lo. 
Most invincibly, no temptation  
Can fasten on her, wood I had ne'er laid siege to her,  
The taking of her province, will not be  
So much advantage to me, as the bare  
Removing of my siege will lose me credit.  
I would she were recoverable by Law,  
There were some hope by vexing my estate,  
And tiring Westminster, within few Terms  
A gentleman might come to issue with her,  
If all were of her mind, what would become on's?  
Lent, everlasting lent would mortify  
Our masculine concupiscence, and not leave  
The strongest body worth an egg at Easter.  Plo. 
I am glad your Lordship yet is pleasant with  
Her stubborness, and were I worthy to  
Advise you, it should never trouble your thoughts;  
I know your Lordship is not barren of acquaintance.  Lo. 
There be more Ladies in the World,  
And of the Game.  La. 
The Game my Lord? I hope,  
You point not this at me, because I use  
To pass the hours at play with Ladies, and gentlemen.  Lo. 
At Dice and Cards? you have more charity,  
Then to think I accuse your Ladyship,  
Though there be some have dared to venture both ways  
Upon record, yet seem staunch to the world,  
I and are thought to pray sometimes, I would not  
For the Indies tempt your Ladyship, I know  
You are deaf to all lewd accents.  Plo. 
'tis your goodness—  Lo. 
Never to try thee, 'tis fit only such  
As your cold kinswoman, wenches that have  
No spirit should be tempted to those sports;  
Nor is she otherwise considerable  
To me, more than my charity may restore her,  
I pity a handsome woman should eat chalk,  
And die i'th' sullens, if she might be comforted, and cured.  Plo. 
With a Warm bedfellow?  Lo. 
Y'are right, Madam,  Enter Jacintha, and Lady Bellamia. 
But she's here, and her elder sister.  
There is another Lady I would not touch now,  
I mean i'th' lewd way, she has life and fire,  
And moves without an Engine, give me a wench,  
That I must mould into a wanton shape,  
And quicken her to air by my own Art,  
A wench that must be purged, sublimed, calcined,  
byth' chemistry of Love, till she become  
A glorified spirit, and acknowledge  
She took her exaltation from me;  
In that I glory more, than to have perfected  
The Magisterium, and boast the elixir.  
But I waste time.  Plo. 
This I cannot help,  
He won't understand.  Lo. 
Can you work, Lady,  
No cure upon your sister by the example  
Of your free heart?  Ia. 
My Lord I chide her for't,  
Tell her what folly 'tis, to waste her health  
With feeding so much melancholy, I wish  
She had my constitution; to laugh  
At all the World.  Lo. 
You are satirical.  Ia. 
No matter what men think of me: my Lord,  
I am no great admirer of their virtues.  Lo. 
You do not hate us, Lady?  Ia. 
But with pardon  
Of your Lordship, it is possible, I may never  
Run mad for Love.  Lo. 
You do converse with us.  Ia. 
Because I have  
As yet, no resolution to be cloistered:  
Sometimes men stir my pity, but most commonly  
My laughter.  Lo. 
Y'are a strange conditioned Gentlewoman.  Ia. 
I would be so my Lord, to all that love me,  
And love myself the better, for that humour.  La. 
You'll never marry?  Ia. 
Certainly, not while I have any wit,  
And can buy folly at a cheaper rate.  
My sister has taught me; that Lady has  
A precious husband too, shall I, my Lord,  
be bold to ask you, but one question,  
What are men good for?  Lo. 
Pray, Lady, do not fear I come a-wooing.  Ia. 
Your Lordship's mirth offends not me in this.  Lo. 
Yet if I could love, I would marry thee  
Of all women alive.  Ia. 
Your Lordship should  
Have little cause, I hope, to wish so ill to me.  Lo. 
What says my Lady April here, all showers?  Plo. 
My Lord is a great honourer of your sister.  Ia. 
'tis his fault in my conscience, but I hope  
she'll have a care, poor soul.  Enter Vayne-man Pumiceston, and Confident. Con. 
Let me prepare you,  
And when you see me close with Madam Plot,  
You may advance.  Pu. 
be brief.  Co. 
Most noble Lady.  
I have no time to enlarge myself; your fat's  
In danger, if discretion sit not at  
The Helm, with love; the Gentlemen, that next  
Present themselves, are not to be admitted  
Guests to your bosom, in the yet dark book  
Of destiny, there is a name reserved,  
To make you happy, your Stars guide you to  
A husband, worthy of this blood, and beauty:  
Think on the Prophet.  Va. 
Now we may come in.  Pu. 
Bright Lady, make your humble servants proud  
To kiss your white hand.  Ia. 
Not to fast, Gentlemen,  
You do not mean to marry me; some air,  
Or I'll go take't abroad: two to one woman?  Pu. 
The lot gave me priority, you know,  
Therefore obey your chance, I must first court her.  Ia. 
These are the guests he talked on sure.  Va. 
What shall I do now?  Con. 
Fall in with the chamber-woman, that is a way  
To know the ebb, and flowing of her Mistress,  
Sail by that wind I say.  Pu. 
The truth is, Lady,  
I love you in the noble way of Marriage.  Ia. 
I am sorry for it.  Pu. 
Why my pretty Mistress?  Ia. 
I cannot love that way.  Pu. 
Are you in earnest?  Ia. 
Do you take me for a Jester?  Pu. 
Do but name  
The way you have the most mind to be loved in;  
The high way, or the by way, any way,  
I am at your service.  Ia. 
What is that Gentleman?  Pu. 
One that would be in love too,  
If he had an apprehension  
You'd favour him, a thing has neither wit  
Nor honesty, he would needs come along,  
I could not shake him off, without a quarrel,  
You'll quickly find his barrenness, and dismiss him:  
He has been practising this fortnight, how  
To make a leg, that learned Gentleman  
Knows the inside of his soul, for my own part—  Ia. 
Methinks he is a very handsome man.  Pu. 
Should he but hear you, Lady, he would think  
You jeered him fearfully.  Ia. 
And he may have a generous mind. What's his estate?  Pu. 
How's this?  Ia. 
If you do love me, give him opportunity  
t'o tell me his poor mind a little.  Pu. 
I obey.  
she's taken with him, and the worst come  
To the worst, there will be a thousand pound good yet.  Con. 
So resolute?  Plo. 
That man must have a powerful tongue must charm her,  
Into consent of marriage, her estate  
Is worth ten thousand pound.  Con. 
A glorious sum,  
Able to whet ambition, now the others  
Turn is, to show himself ridiculous.  Va. 
I tell you in three syllables, I love you.  Ia. 
That gentleman professes the same language,  
Your friend.  Va. 
My friend? he's none of mine, true we have been  
Acquainted, met, fell into conference of you,  
And came together, Lady, he is no man  
Of that clear fame, to engage my serious friendship,  
A very puff-fist.  Ia. 
What's that I pray?  Va. 
A Phantom, a mere Phantom.  Ia. 
Phantom, what's that?  Va. 
A mental typhoon, a windy caprice, I do grace him,  
Or so, but he is the impudentest fellow—  Ia. 
He speaks well  
Of you, gave you a worthy Character.  Va. 
He cannot choose.  
He knows me well enough, and all the world,  
Besides I have a temper must not be  
Provoked with calumnies, 'tis true he has some  
Pretty parts, is held an excellent scholar, can sing,  
And dance, and manage a Horse well,  
he's borne of a good family, can speak,  
When he lists, to purpose too, I confess it,  
But what's all this when a man will be a rascal?  Ia. 
What blessed pair of customers have I got?  
These would make excellent husbands, and love me  
Toth' purpose.  Enter Lord, and Bellamia. Lo. 
Well, remember, you have promised,  
Upon condition, I dismiss you now,  
To give me another answer.  Con. 
My good Lord,  
I have an humble suit to you, I should ask  
First how your hopes thrive in that sullen Lady.  Lo, 
I must expect, but what's your business, to me?  Con. 
In brief, to advance my service to  
That Lady, by your honour's testimony  
Of what I may deserve, I am confident  
I shall reward it, by securing her  
Fair sister to your wishes, she's your own,  
Or if she prove too honest, I shall make  
A recompense by offering to your pleasure,  
The other, who by authority of your breath,  
May make me Lord of her, and her full fortune,  
You understand, my gracious Lord.  Lo. 
I do so.  Pu. 
Va. Your Lordship's humble creatures.  Lo. 
I am your servant.  
What shall we do, Ladies? but I forget,  
I have something more to say to you.  Ia. 
To me, my Lord?  Lo. 
Your clients increase, Lady,  
That gentleman tells me, he does love you, and would marry you.  
Because I have observed his nature, I'll  
Give him in brief, he is a fellow will  
Undo thee in a fortnight, though not in  
Thy estate, yet in thy mind, a greater mischief.  
If thou dost marry him, it will be policy,  
To turn witch betime, ere he sell thee o'er to shame,  
And so much poverty, the Devil won't  
Trust thee with a familiar, now believe him,  
we droop methinks—  Ia. 
So, so, here are another couple, who shall trust  
Mankind? it will be a miracle to find  
One honest man i'th' bundle, sir, you are  
Bound to my Lord.  Con. 
His least favours to me  
Are more than my whole life can satisfy,  
Oh Lady, if you knew him but as I do,  
You would be lost in wonder of his goodness.  
'bove all, he is adorer of chaste truth,  
And speaks religiously of any man.  
He will not trust obscure traditions,  
Or faith implicit, but concludes of things  
Within his own clear knowledge what he says,  
You may believe, and pawn your soul upon't.  
Vouchsafe me kiss your fair hand, whose least touch  
Consented to though I were old and dying,  
Would quicken me into a Spring.  Plo. 
You forget, my Lord, the music was prepared  
To dance, and warm her blood.  Lo. 
Each take his Lady  Ia. 
Falstaffe I will believe thee,  
There is no faith in villaInous man.  Lo. 
Begin there.  They dance in. Enter Lady Bellamia, as taking opportunity to go to her chamber, Enter Lady Plott, and Fitzavarice. La. 
Follow her, my Lord, she is stolen to her chamber: this will  
Give you admittance through my Lodgings, I'll excuse  
Your absence, there be more ways toth' wood, try all.  Lo. 
How much you bless me, she shall want no trial,  
This opportunity is worth an Empire.  Exeunt.  

Actus Tertius.  Enter Lord Fitzavarice, and Bellamia. Lo. 
What shall I say? consent, dear Lady, to  
Be mine, and thou shalt taste more happiness,  
Then woman's fierce ambition can pursue;  
Shift more delights, than the warm-spring can boast  
Variety of leaves, or wealthy harvest  
Grain from the teeming earth. Joy shall dry all  
Thy tears, and take his throne up, in thy eyes,  
Where it shall sit, and bless whate'er they shine on.  
The night shall Sow her pleasures in thy bosom,  
And morning shall rise only to salute thee.  Bel. 
Enough, too much. My Lord, I hoped when last  
Your importunity enforced my promise  
Of other answer, I should never see you,  
If being a sad prisoner to my chamber,  
Might have prevented your access: but since  
I am betrayed to this discourse, receive  
What the necessity of fate compels to.  Lo. 
Another answer?  Bel. 
Yes, but such an one  
As must at least challenge affinity  
With what I said before: not your estate,  
Though multiplied to Kingdoms, and those wasted  
With your invention, to serve my pleasures,  
Have power to bribe my life away from him,  
To whose use I am bid to wear it; be yet just,  
And seek no further to pollute the stream  
Of my chaste thoughts, I'll rather choose to die  
Poor wife to Peregrine, then live a king's  
Inglorious strumpet, can you think my Lord,  
Should I give up my freedom to your bend,  
And for the pride of wealth, sell woman in me,  
(For she must lose that name, that once turns whore)  
Could I arrive at impudence enough  
To come abroad, and not be moved to hear  
My shame from every tongue, but scorn my infamy,  
(As 'tis the nature of this sin to strengthen  
itself still with a greater) could you think,  
If no religion can correct your wildness,  
Another's price, or pleasure, would not buy me  
Even from your arms? there is no faith in lust,  
And she that dares be false to one she loves,  
Will twine with all the world, and never blush for't,  
Kiss, and betray as often. Think on this,  
And call yourself home,  Lo. 
Lady, I have heard you,  
And do allow the excuse, I do not urge,  
Although your husband's absence may plead for't,  
You should be generally at my dispose,  
Disclaim all place, and person, but what's mine,  
I am not so ambitious, my desires  
Are humble, and beg only so much favour  
To admit me to one service, (you know what  
To understand by it) and if you like not  
My activity handsomely, discharge me again.  Bel. 
Worse than infection, how dare you speak  
This blasphemy to honour, or I hear it?  Lo. 
it's not to be avoided, I have secured  
Your Chamber, Lady.  Bel. 
Innocence defend me.  Lo. 
Once more, and nature work,  
You say you love your husband, and account  
His absence the misfortune, that doth sit  
Most heavy on your soul, this is increased  
By the despair of his return; since all  
Hop's fled, to satisfy his deep engagements,  
Which threaten ruin here, I have a mortgage  
Of his, for sums lent by my thriving father,  
Your jointure, (but released by you, I take it)  
I am so much a servant to thy beauty,  
The first night I embrace thy delicate body,  
The Lands thy own again, a round encouragement.  Bel. 
What do I hear?  Lo. 
If Lords should pay so dear for every capering,  
'twould try the back of their estate: but mark me,  
I ha' not done, sum up his other debts,  
They swell to thousands, be but fair conditioned,  
For every time thou admitst me after, to thy  
Pillow, I'll strike of an hundred pound,  
Till all the debts be unravelled: In the mean time  
Thy husband shall return, and walk the Town,  
Free as an Alderman, and be mace-proof,  
Shall live, and lie with thee, and love thee too,  
And praise thee for this noble composition,  
What sayst? I find thy wisdom coming to thee.  
Should it be known, who'll think the worse of thee?  
Alas, good soul, 'twas pure love to thy husband,  
They must imagine, wrought with thee. What woman  
But would to save a husband's life, and fortune,  
Venture a trifle? nay they shall commend  
Thy act, and read the story to their children,  
And envy the example was not theirs,  
I shall have all the blame, but I'll endure't  
For thy sake, all the tyranny will be mine,  
But to secure thy peace, and do thy husband  
A courtesy, I'll run a thousand hazards.  
Do I appear now?  Bel. 
Yes, a glorious monster.  
Good Heaven!  Lo. 
Once more, will you consent?  Bel. 
Never oh, never: let me tell you, sir,  
You have so little prevailed upon my Love,  
That almost I forget my charity  
Y'are a bad man: I'll sooner meet a basilisk, and be one.  Lo. 
Nay then.— He draws his poniard.  Bel. 
What do you mean?  Lo. 
If soft entreaties  
With all that man can promise, move you not  
To the delight, I'll snatch it from your bosom,  
Nay never shake, I'll change that modest paleness  
Into a blush, shall speak thy blood as hot  
As mine, or leave thy veins dry as the face  
Of earth, when winter hath deflowered her cheek,  
And sealed up all her beauties in a frost.  she faints. 
Ha, Madam, dead, help: I did but try thee,  
My Lady Plot, a curse upon your Plots.  
Jacintha, Ladies, I am undone, no help?  Dormant above. Dor. 
Peace you'll wake my master.  Lo. 
Help here, the Lady Peregrine is dead.  Dor. 
If she be dead, she won't make a noise,  
Would all i'th' house were dead, we should be at quiet.  
Carry yourself civilly an I'll send somebody.  Lo. 
I shall be in for murder, oh my fate!  Enter Jacintha, Lady Plott. Ia. 
Alas my sister, what ha' you done, my Lord?  Lo. 
I know not the extent of my offence,  
But trust me, i le not fly past the next Chamber.  
Show your best charity, oh my soul is wounded.  Exit. La. 
she returns, give her more air.  Ia. 
Oh my poor sister, welcome to life again.  Bel. 
I know you both, is nobody else with you?  La. 
No Madam.  Bel. 
Not my Lord?  La. 
I'll carry him the news of her recovery.  Bel. 
Pray let me see him.  Enter Lord, and Lady Plott. Ia. 
he's here too soon.  La. 
Plo. Cheer up your spirit my Lord, and speak to her,  
She is alive, and likely.  Bel. 
You may come  
A little nearer, if there be no change  
In mind, there is in countenance, my Lord,  
I have had a short, but pleasing vision,  
My thought from a steep precipice, as you were falling  
Into the Sea, an arm chained to a Cloud,  
Caught hold, and drew you up to Heaven.  Lo. 
If you dare hear me speak  
Again, I dare say more, but to your ear.  Bel. 
I feel a new, and secure confidence.  
Will you vouchsafe us favour?  Ia. 
we'll not be  
At too much distance.  Exeunt Ia. and Lady Plott. Lo. 
Can there be a hope,  
After so great a wrong, to find a mercy?  
You must be more than woman, and you are so.  
It was the error of my soul that drew  
The heavy mist upon my eyes, they now  
See, and admire your innocence, oh Madam,  
I have two mighty passions within me;  
Two, that are welcome, yet extremes, a Joy,  
To see you live, and sorrow for my trespass  
Against so bright a chastity, to which,  
I kneel within my heart, and ask forgiveness.  Bel. 
If this be earnest, 'tis a heavenly language.  Lo. 
I feel a holy flame disperse rich heat,  
About me, the corruption of my blood  
Is fallen away, and of that virtue, which  
A devil in me would have betrayed, I rise  
A servant, and admirer, live, oh live,  
Thou best of wives, and practise still new wonders  
Upon the heart of lust transformed men,  
Until time boast, the example of thy faith  
Hath purged the world, and taught us how to count  
Our hours by thy miracles: I am  
In love now with thy goodness, by thyself  
I am, and by some rare, and unknown act,  
Must make a recompense to that fair honour,  
I would ha' blasted, once again forgive me,  
And hide the shame, my soul does blush to think on.  Exit. Bel. 
This is an noble change, and speaks his nature  
Not barren, when good seeds are trusted with it.  Enter Lady Plott, and Jacintha. Ia. 
he's gone.  Plo. 
And did not mind us.  Bel. 
I am sorry,  
I could have chained my ears to his discourse,  
And willingly ha' grown old to have heard him:  
Madam, the Character of praise you gave him,  
Is short of that true nobleness I find.  Plo 
And yet you were not willing to believe it.  
I think I know a man.  Ia. 
How is this sister?  
I hope y'are not in earnest, though he be  
A Lord, as who can help, in my judgement  
There are no mountains of such nobleness  
As you commend his talk, if he speak not:  
Another language to the ear, could never.  
Ravish my understanding, though I must  
Confess 'tis wild enough, I do begin  
To fear you, sister.  Bel. 
be more charitable,  
I apprehend your trouble, and shall give you  
A fair account of his, and my own honour,  
I could be merry now.  Exit. Plo. 
Here are Gentlemen.  Ia. 
My customers.  Enter Confident, Vayne-man, Pumicestone. Con. 
Where is my Lord?  Bel. 
he's gone, sir.  Con. 
I am sure he has left a heart behind with you,  
Most excellent of beauties, in whose trust,  
'Tis safer, and more warm, then in his bosom,  
Do you not find him a brave Gentleman?  
He has but one fault Lady, he's to modest:  
But your discretion must help that that.  Bel. 
I honour him.  Con. 
'tis well and wisely done.  Bel. 
Pray tell me, sir,  
I have heard a little trial of your wit,  
Are you honest too?  Con. 
Honest too?  
I never did suspect your ladyship's  
Breeding, and yet this question in public,  
Would stagger the opinion.  Bel. 
But you having a leading voice.  Con. 
I ha' not art to help you,  
Though I confess, I might o'errule some wits  
O'th' lower class, are you honest too?  
Besides the freedom of my birth, and wealth  
Of blood, I boast no overswelling fortunes,  
As to what purpose, should my wits be clogged  
With heavy acres, when the Town's Exchequer  
Is mine, and every Mercer is my Tenant,  
If he pretend to wit, and hope to justify  
His shop-book, and orthography of his bills:  
I would not have the scandal on my name,  
To be called honest, i'th' strict sense I mean,  
And as it ties my blood up, for a Dukedom:  
But you are for my Lord, and I allow it.  
How thrive my gallants here?  Ia. 
They cannot choose  
But prosper, sir, and much the better for  
Your commendations.  Va. 
You may take his opinion Lady, 'tis authentic.  Ia. 
But a little of your patience: if I found  
Within me, that strong appetite to marry,  
Who shall protect me from the statute gentlemen?  
If it be felony to have two husbands,  
I will not marry above one for certain.  Con. 
she's right for that, 'tis dangerous.  Pu. 
Cast lots.  Ia. 
And tie my love to chance, forbid discretion.  Va. 
Choose whom you love best.  Ia. 
That's to be resolved  
By your demonstration, who loves me best,  
For if there be, mark what I tell you, Gentlemen,  
But the hundred part of a grain difference,  
In your affections, beshrew me, if  
I choose the lightest.  Both. 
How's this?  Con. 
Wisdom Gentlemen,  
And must be allowed.  Pu. 
Let him be the judge,  
He knows us both to a scruple.  Con. 
Excuse me Gentlemen,  
'Tis fit the Lady satisfy her judgement,  
Although I hate partiality, it becomes not  
I should be here definitive, to perplex  
The freedom of her choice..  Va. 
What think you to agree among ourselves?  Ia. 
Sure he that dares  
Do most for my sake will deserve me best.  Con. 
d'ee hear that resolution, be ruled  
I'll open such a path to your ambition—  Pu. 
No more.  Va. 
At our next visit, you shall know us Lady,  Plo. 
Nay Gentlemen let's to gleek.  Va. 
Command us Madam.  Plo. 
You and my cousin may  
To the same exercise.  Bel. 
I would be excused  
For some few minutes.  Con. 
If it please you Lady,  
we'll pass that time at sant: did you not find  
My Character true of those rotten glowworms?  Ia. 
You did a high favour.  Con. 
you consult  
Your honour in the acknowledgement, I wait you.  Ia. 
When will you open, sir, the book of destiny  
And read the name you talk on? I am confident,  
He must be master of an active soul  
Whom you prefer, if I mislike his person,  
I'll marry his wit, but we lose time, you'll follow.  Exeunt Manet Lady Bellamia. Bel. 
Methinks I feel some new access of comfort,  
Something that tells me, I am near a blessing,  
Or else my poor heart flatters me.  Enter Page. Pa. 
My Lord commanded me present you his best service,  
And with it, these: he bade me say, they are  
Prologue to that reward he hath designed  
Your virtue, I was glad to hear him say so,  
And never went more nimbly on his message.  Bel. 
The mortgage? this confirms me, he is noble,  
A wealthy carcanet; though I cannot merit  
This bounty from him, I am rich in thank's.  
But prithee tell me boy, didst not thou bring  
Letters, and other Jewels to me?  Pa. 
Yes.  Bel. 
If I remember, you did speak another  
Meaning, than what you now deliver.  Pa. 
Madam,  
Although the narrow tie of duty bind me,  
To the discharge of his commands, which it  
Becomes no servant to dispute, I meet  
Honest employments with more cheerfulness.  Bel. 
Thou hast a modest countenance, here's to buy the  
Garters, and Roses.  Pa. 
When I go upon  
Lascivious errands, Madam, I take money,  
There is no other benefit belongs to 'em,  
But good ones pay themselves, I am rewarded,  
I shall have cause to thank you for my Lord,  
If he preserve this temper.  Exit. Bel. 
A good boy: this is not the religion of all Pages.  
They are a present worth acceptance,  
The piety came with 'em more than doubles  
Their value, if vice blush not at rewards,  
There is no shame for virtue to receive them:  
But What's all this to me, that am poor still  
Without my Peregrine? who all this while  
Treads the uneven path of war, and danger,  
This very minute, for aught I can tell,  
Wounded upon some service, or engaged,  
To stand the murdering Cannon, oh, my blood  
Grows pale within me to imagine, what  
Horror attends the Soldier  Enter Dormant. Dor. 
Madam, Madam.  Bel. 
Ha, my heart trembles.  Dor. 
Sir Walter Peregrine.  Bel. 
Thy looks speak comfort, what of him?  Dor. 
He is returned.  Bel. 
Landed?  Dor. 
he's marching up the stairs, with another soldade  
Tough as his Jerkin, he has a tilting feather,  
And looks so desperately, I fear they have  
Brought home two regiments that won't be  
Cashiered without a shift.  Enter sir Walter Peregrine, and a Captain. 
They are here already.  Bel. 
Oh! let me fly into his arms, my Peregrine.  Sir. 
My best of life!  Bel. 
Let tears of joy salute thee,  
Wellcome, ten thousand welcomes.  Sir. 
I embrace  
Millions of bliss in thee, but let not our  
Joy make us unmannerly, bestow  
One welcome on my friend.  Bel. 
Your pardon, sir,  
If after many years of absence, I  
Dwell long upon a husband's entertainment,  
And if you think I have expressed a truth  
Of joy to see him, you will easily  
Believe the man, whom he calls friend, is welcome.  Cap. 
Madam, you honour me, it were a sin  
Not to be confident.  Sir. 
And are we met?  Bel. 
Never I hope to part again, 'tis time  
we now should grow together.  Cap. 
You'll dispense  
With me for some hours, I have friends expect  
At my return a visit.  Sir 
I shall not  
Desire you to let fall no mention  
Of me, the little stay I purpose here,  
You may imagine, carries danger with it.  Cap. 
I Hope you know me better.  Exit. Sir. 
Noblest friend.  Bel. 
I heard some words sound most unkindly from you,  
You named a little stay, have I scarce seen  
My happiness, and must be sad again  
To think it will so soon be ravished from me?  Sir. 
Alas my poor Bellamia, I have made  
No purchase but of wounds, since my departure.  
I have paid some debts of war, but cannot promise  
To cancel one, that threatens me at home;  
What we have more than to supply our wants,  
Consumes on the Drum head, I was ambitious  
To see thee, and this gentleman returning  
With expectation to levy men  
Gave me the opportunity, but I dare  
Promise myself no dwelling here, scarce own  
My face before a sunbeam, I must walk  
I'th' dark to all the world but thee, Bellamia:  
But trust me, when my body is called hence  
By misery of my fate, it takes not all  
The soul it brought, much stays to wait on thee:  
I know it would afflict thee more, to see me  
A prisoner, chained to heavy debts, and shame.  Bel. 
Thy state is not so lost, and miserable,  
As 'tis presented in thy fears, look here,  
And thank a providence, that smiles upon us,  
This is recovered, we have some Land  
Again, by whose revenue we may live,  
And expect better fortunes, I have Jewels too,  
Bright ones, and rich.  Sir. 
You have indeed.  Bel. 
Possess  
What I enjoy, and let us live together.  Sir. 
It cannot, cannot be, alas Bellamia,  
How flattering imagination would cozen us,  
I am beyond sea still, in my cold Tent,  
Where, though my sleeps be broken with the noise  
Of war, I now securely dream of thee,  
And of my coming home, and talking to thee,  
That thou art rich in land again and Jewels,  
Shadows, mere shadows: I am weary of  
This dream, some charitable cannon wake me.  Bel. 
Sir you may trust your eyes, these are no forms, in airy apprehension, but the truth of things, that call you to believe, and use them as timely benefits: yet I may allow you to wonder, there's a story will deserve it.  Sir. 
I know not what I fear, d'ee think 'tis true then?  
I will have reason for this faith, pray tell me,  
How came you by this wealth, certainly I left  
No sums to purchase these, more my injustice  
To thee, whose plentiful estate I ruined.  Bel. 
A friend, a noble friend.  Sir. 
That died, and gave thee  
A swelling legacy, and thou hast made  
This use on't to release thy desperate land,  
Buy thee a carcanet, and this proud blaze  
Of other Jewels.  Bel. 
If you please to hear me,  
I must declare, these are the bounty of  
A living friend.  Sir. 
Living?  Bel. 
A Gentleman—  Sir. 
A Gentleman? forbear I am not well.  Bel. 
One you are bound to honour.  Sir. 
thou'st undone me,  
Do not, do not name him,  
I know, and feel too much.  Bel. 
Believe me, sir,  
My story's full of innocence, and when  
You have more knowledge of this friend, you'll quit  
Your fears, and call him to your heart.  Sir. 
My heart  
Is very busy, yet you may tell me  
His name, to whose strange bounty I am so obliged.  Bel. 
More to his virtue, though his title  
Carry the shine of honour, he has a soul  
More glorious; have patience but to hear me,  
You will confess it, and reward his piety  
With praise above a man, and be in love  
With him yourself.  Sir. 
In Love—  Bel. 
The Lord Fitzavarice.  Sir. 
Ha? the wanton Lord Fitzavarice.  
Thou most undone of women, did my absence  
So forfeit me, or ebb of wealth corrupt  
Thy giddy soul, thou couldst imagine, I  
Would thank thy lust to piece up my wild ruins?  
Transform me gentle Heaven,  
For if I be a man, and hold the knowledge  
Of this dishonour, I shall do an act  
Equal to this, and murder this false woman.  
Have I thought life not tedious for thy sake,  
And in my poverty summed up wealth enough  
But in my hopes to see thee, were my winters  
Not cold, when I but thought I had Bellamia,  
Were all the toils, and troubles of my spring,  
Not valued for this harvest? curse upon  
Thy Salary, were it a price to buy  
All Kingdoms, that the Sun e'er shed a beam on,  
Earned from thy Body's infamy, I'd choose  
To live i'th' galley first, and chained toth' oar,  
Give up my breath through torture. I'll to prison,  
And welcome all the stings, that want of liberty,  
Disease, and famine, can let fall upon me,  
And call thee yet more killing than all they,  
Till my hard Creditors forgive me in pity,  
And curse thee into all I have suffered,  
Wives shall accuse thy perjury, whose act  
Is able to make all the truth suspected,  
And Virgins frighted at thy name, resolve  
Never to marry, while the race of men  
Curse thee, for whom they ne'er shall spring again.  
But I let passion fool me, and my tameness  
May prompt thee to more sin, I'll be revenged;  
But first on him, that grafted shame upon me:  
It shall be thy first punishment, to see  
Him bleeding, where is he? come what fine conveyances  
To keep your Goat close, till time play the bawd,  
And secure all your ruttings? I must find him,  
Appear then stain to honour, Lordly devil:  
Where art? Fitzavarice? Fitzavarice!  Enter Dormant. 
Whose reeking squire are you sir, ha my Lords?  
Show me straight where this Fox doth Earth himself,  
Or I'll—  Dor. 
I know not where my Lord is, but there's one a-bed.  Sir. 
A Bed, expecting her, where?  Dor. 
But he's asleep, you'll wake him.  Sir. 
Show me villain quickly.  Dor. 
Oh, this way, sir.  Exeunt. Bel. 
Has misery a name beyond my suffering?  
Hath love, and fortune both conspired to drop  
Their stings into my bosom?  Within. 
Help Dormant.  Enter Sir Solitary in his shirt pursued by Sir Walter. Plo. 
A plot, a plot to murder me, hold, what art?  
My Nephew; ha!  Sir. 
'Tis not he, Uncle you must  
Excuse my compliment, he shall not fly me.  Exit. Plo. 
Who goes about to fly? he did not wound me,  
A naked man is soon undone, 'tis wisdom  
To sleep hereafter in a shirt of Mail,  
When came he hither, from the Netherlands?  
He is sent upon some murdering design;  
But why with his sword drawn, why not a knife?  
Some great man is in danger; ha! my Niece weeping,  
I'll sift her, Bellamia?  Bael 
Oh my husband, sir.  Sol. 
Nay, than there is a plot, whom would he kill?  Bel. 
The Lord Fitzavarice.  Sol. 
I knew it was some great man must be visited  
Beneath the ribs, men of such vast estates  
Are not long lived.  Enter Dormant. Dor. 
I know not what to do, sir,  Sol. 
he's i'th' conspiracy, reveal the plot to me.  Dor. 
My fellow Oldrat met him, sir.  Sol. 
Ha, more traitors.  
I did suspect that fool's simplicity,  
What man is to be trusted? if these men  
Thrive in their first attempt, the state's in danger.  
This Oldrat is a politician.  
I'll stand upon my guard, entrench, and dare  
The Ghost of Tilly.  Dor. 
'Tis not very warm, sir.  Sol. 
Your cold considerations are best.  
But I'll to bed again.  Dor. 
They are here, oh!  Exit. Enter Sir Walter, Bell: and Oldrat. Sol. 
Away.  
Shall we be never free from plots?  Exit. Sir. Wal. 
Has he been gone this hour sayst?  Old. 
Yes, and please your worship,  
Would I were well gone too.  Exit. Bel. 
Yet will you hear me, sir.  Sir. 
And trust the language of your tears? they're false,  
Your gamester shall weep blood: here we untwist  
Our hearts, set up o'th' trade, the youth will join.  
Thou mayest be still Bellamia, but not mine.  Exit.  

Actus Quartus.  Enter Sir Walter, and Captain, as coming from a Tavern. Within. 
All's paid, and ye are welcome gentlemen.  Cap. 
So; so, this Tavern was well thought upon:  
In my opinion, 'tis a great deal better  
Than to have trusted your own passion  
In such a cause, which easily might engage you  
To danger, when your rage grew high, and loud.  Sir. 
I have obeyed your counsel: you will carry this?  Cap. 
I have promised you.  Sir. 
And yet you must acknowledge  
The wrong is greater than to be contained  
Within this narrow leaf, and till I have  
Revenged, it swells each minute to a volume.  Cap. 
My Lord is noble this way, and be confident,  
Will render you an account, worthy his person,  
Though I am sorry to salute him first,  
With a defiance.  Sir. 
Shalt not for all the World  
Do thyself prejudice in his favour, I'll  
Disengage thee again.  Cap. 
Now you dishonour me, though he has been pleased  
To use me nobly when we met at Bergen,  
That must not bar the office of a gentleman  
To his friend: he has been a Soldier himself,  
And must grant this an act of my profession.  
You are certain he has done the injury?  
For 't is not safe to trust suspicion,  
In things of this high nature; Life and Honour  
Must not be questioned upon naked fears,  
And windy suppositions, pardon me  
This plainness, you imagine I dare fight.  Sir. 
Shall I believe 'tis day, when I behold  
The Sun disperse his beams about the World?  
Do I know cold, or heat, or when I thirst?  
Shall I be confident we talk together?  
My cause will ask the same degree of faith,  
As built on equal certainty.  Cap. 
I urge it  
No father:  
Is not that he?  Enter Fitzavarice and Page. Sir. 
'Tis the same.  Cap. 
Withdraw, be careful of yourself, I'll meet you  
At your Uncle's house, and give you an account  
Of this employment.  Pag. 
she is an excellent woman,  
If't be no wrong to her goodness that I spend  
My childish character.  Lo. 
thouart right, she is  
Indeed boy, and shows fairer for that goodness,  
I have done nothing yet to cherish her  
Rare piety, or to deserve my pardon.  
I'll study both.  Cap. 
My Lord, an humble servant—  Lo. 
Captain you honour me,  
Welcome to England, how do all our friends  
I'th' low-Countries?  Cap. 
Happy in being your servants,  Lo. 
When Landed you?  Cap. 
But this morning, I am fortunate  
In this opportunity, my Lord, to speak with you,  
And to present—  Lo. 
Some letters, you oblige me,  
How does sir Walter Peregrine?  Cap. 
Well,  
If please you command your boy more distance:  
This paper comes from him. My Lord, I should  
Be guilty of much sin to your own honour,  
Not to assure myself noble construction  
From you, I had no thought within this hour,  
To have brought more than my humble service  
To your Lordship, which shall still be fairly yours.  Pag. 
I do not like this soldad's Embassage:  
A challenge! some young Gentlemen that have  
Strong purses and faint souls, do use to fine for't,  
As Citizens do for Sheriffs: the Town swash-Bucklers  
Practise these feats, and live by't; but my Lord  
Hath beaten that opinion out of some,  
It should appear, all are not yet converted.  Lo. 
How's this?  Cap. 
He appears noble, and not moved.  Lo. 
Are you acquainted with his discontents?  Cap. 
He has imparted some, but I have no  
Commission to expostulate.  Lo. 
I thank you,  
You show yourself a Gentleman, and his friend.  
He shall hear from me, I had ambition  
To enjoy you longer: but the terms of honour  
Threaten on both sides, know me for your servant.  
Pray heaven he injure not the innocent Lady.  
He has directed where to send to him,  
And so again I thank you noble Captain.  Cap. 
Your Lordship's honourer.  Exit. Lo. 
This came unlooked for, but I must not wave it,  
O'th' sudden whom shall I employ? I cannot  
Want friends ambitious of these engagements:  
The next I meet.  Enter Confident. Confident? 
He has professed his soul was mine,  
I'll try him for his body in this action.  
Yet he that is not honest, dares not fight sure.  Con. 
My honourable Lord.  Lo. 
Oh Master Confident,  
Your hopes thrive in your mistress?  Co. 
Your Lordship  
Was pleased to advance 'em, she affects my wit,  
And bold discourse, I turn and wind her soul,  
She loves me infinitely.  Lo. 
I hope not, hark.  
Be not too forward, I'm acquainted with  
Her disposition, do not flatter her,  
Nor seem to dote, she'll triumph then: if you  
Would make all sure, be ruled by me, and slight her,  
And she will court you, 'tis the trick of Ladies,  
If you abuse her, 'twere not much amiss.  
I would not have the wench undo herself  
Upon this fellow. I advise the best  
And speediest way, for I expect your promise,  
When she is yours, to bring us more acquainted.  Con. 
Be confident my Lord, good manners will  
Instruct me to allow you the first fruits,  
It was the fashion of our northern Princes:  
And challenge it from your poor Homager.  
I shall be as warm the first night with her Land,  
And moneys. Then it seems you have no hope  
To spring her sister.  Lo. 
Since our last salute,  
Icicles hang upon my lip.  Con. 
My wife, for I  
Dare speak her so, with smiles shall chase  
That winter, and shoot spring throughout your blood;  
You shall not only from her lip taste Cherries,  
But she shall plant 'em with her amorous kiss  
Upon your own, and they shall grow from thence  
To tempt the Queen of Love to Adonis' garden:  
It shall be happiness enough for me, to watch  
The Hesperides, but in no dragon's shape,  
That you may rifle with security  
The golden Orchard, I shall boast enough  
By having an Elysium to serve you;  
Her eyes are wealth enough to me, above  
A rock of Diamonds, her breath rich gums  
Sweeter than those the Phoenix makes her Altar,  
When she is her own sacrifice, and fans  
The glowing Pile with her grey wings; her voice  
Enough for me, whose harmony would build  
Up Thebes again, and make it after move,  
And follow her; one touch of her soft palm  
Is health enough to me, and were I old  
As Aeson, would restore my active nerves,  
And state my youth at thirty: I can gather  
Warm Snow from her fair brow, her chin, her neck,  
And at my eyes drink enough immortality:  
Sated with these, I'll find new appetite,  
And come a wanton strawberrying to her cheeks.  Lo. 
No more, you have expressed in this your faith  
To me, which I am bound in honour to  
Acknowledge, and without more study, have  
A fit occasion to requite, and show  
How near I place your love, there is a difference  
Between another gentleman, and myself,  
Grown to a challenge, I must answer it,  
You that are so well read in books, cannot  
Be ignorant of man, I'll trust my life  
And honour with no second, but yourself.  Co. 
My Lord I see you know me, and am blessed  
The chosen man to serve you, from a troop  
Of lives at your command, I should have envied  
His fate, on whom else you had thrown this honour.  Lo. 
So resolute? you have not seen sir Walter Peregrine,  
he's returned.  Co. 
I hear some whisper—  Lo. 
I have named my enemy, the defiance comes from him.  Co. 
he's jealous of his wife, good gentleman,  
And would be a cuckold upon record.  Lo. 
Call on me  
An hour hence, I'll be at home, and use  
Your friendship for the burden of an answer.  Exit. Co. 
I shall think Time hath lost his wings till then.  
He put me to it cunningly, but his  
Discovery relieved me, though I make  
A noise i'th' Town, and am admired for bouncing,  
I am cool enough i'th' dog-days: my Lords Scrivener.  Enter Scrivener. 
Fortune presents him to my with, the man  
Of all World most useful to my purpose.  Scr. 
Master Confident, Rapture your most humble servant—  Co. 
When saw you the squire's vainman, and Pumicestone?  Scr. 
Not since I procured 'em a thousand pound,  Co. 
Now you put me in mind of debts, has not  
Sir Walter Peregrine a name within  
Some list of yours? has he no creditors  
By your acquaintance?  Scr. 
I beseech you do not  
Vex me with his remembrance. I have paid  
Some moneys for him, he has other friends  
That would be glad to embrace him.  Co. 
Sure he would not  
Be such a traitor not to secure thee.  Scr. 
Would I could reach him.  Co. 
Why he is returned,  
Within this four and twenty hours, you may  
Salute him too. Alas, a sum may be  
The ruin of thy fortunes, could he have  
So little charity?  Scr. 
I would show  
As much to him, if I could set my fangs on him.  Co. 
I have ever wished thee well, and if thou dar'st  
Be secret, I'll direct thee to recover him,  
I cannot say the debt; may be, the Knight  
Is poor still.  Scr 
Hang him, Master Confident,  
It will refresh my heart to be revenged;  
Some say men's blood, I say their bones are sweetest.  
I'd make him an example, I'll not tell  
My shirt on't, how honest Master Confident?  Enter Sir Walter. Co. 
Fate dotes upon thee, he, the very he,  
Be artful, I'll salute him, and delay  
His pace with some discourse, whilst you  
Fetch shoulder-clappers, noble Sir Walter Peregrine,  
I feel a springtide in my heart of joy,  
Swell to congratulate your safe return,  
The Town has drooped for your society.  Sir. 
You are still the eligant time wit, I am happy  
To witness both your brain, and body flourish.  Con. 
What news abroad? all expectation  
Is fixed upon this summer's war, we breathe  
Nothing but German air, although the chance  
Of war be uncertain, you can tell which hand  
Is fortunate, how ha' the Dice run hitherto?  Sir. 
there's not much won, or lost.  Con. 
No Towns of note  
Taken? no convoys of provision  
Cut off?  Sir. 
Sir you are inquisitive, as if  
You would turn Gallobelgicus, I am  
On some affairs now, that importune their  
Dispatch, my stay being short I must attend them.  Con. 
Nay prithee Knight be courteous, 'tis an age  
Since we conversed, is't true what loved fame scatters  
Of the great general's revolt?  Sir. 
we have  
But the relation.  Con. 
He is slain for certain.  Sir. 
There was an execution.  Con. 
And what treasure  
Was taken by the enemy? they talk  
Of Millions.  Sir. 
Enough to keep the Eagle  
In a good diet. I beseech you pardon me,  
We shall hereafter meet, and ha' more freedom  
To enlarge ourselves, & when you have my particulars,  
I will be bold to inquire in the Exchange  
Your news at home.  Con. 
I observe trouble in you,  
I hope y'are in no danger.  Sir. 
If you'll give me  
The liberty of a subject, and allow me  
The king's high way, I shall have less suspicion,  
You won't pay my debts.  Con. 
I beg your pardon,  
Pray do not wound my service to you with  
A jealous thought, I won't for the World  
Engage you another minute.  Enter Scrivener, and Officers. 
Now for the bloodhounds.  Off. 
Sir, we arrest you  Sir. 
Is the mischief fall'n?  Off 
Your sword shall keep the peace.  Scr. 
'Tis at my suit.  Sir. 
Thine?  Scr. 
I do but lead the dance to twenty more.  Sir. 
Hear me, what's your demand? let me not go  
To prison.  Scr, 
An action of a thousand pound more,  
For the Lord Fitzavarice.  Sir. 
Ha? than I am betrayed, that Lord's a villain,  
That I could reach his heart; release my body  
But for two hours, my soul be forfeited  
For ever, if I render not myself  
Your honest Prisoner.  Scr. 
That were a pretty jest.  
Look to your charge.  Co. 
Here is a duel taken up discreetly.  Exit. Sir. 
Black Jew, base Lord, damned villain.  Scr. 
They can tame you.  Exeunt. Enter Jacintha, Vain-man Pamiceston. Ia. 
Why look you gentlemen, I'll not puzzle you  
To find out dangers, famine, fire, and sword,  
Or desperate things.  Va. 
Trifles for thy sweet sake.  Pu. 
I would not wish you, upon easy terms.  Ia. 
To prevent these, I have thought a way myself,  
And with less cost, to try you, I have made  
A vow I won't marry these six months,  
During which time, if you dare for my sake  
Visit me every day, and never speak to me,  
Nor in my company to any other—  Va. 
How Lady?  
Shall I not answer any gentleman  
Or Lady, that shall put a question to me?  Ia. 
By no means.  Va. 
You will give me leave to answer you,  
If you should ask me any thing.  Ia. 
Not a syllable,  
Though I desired to know what o'clock 'tis,  
there's your obedience, at six months end  
I may reward your silence.  Pu. 
she'll make him the dumb Knight.  Ia. 
I won't engage you to be a mute  
So long, you shall be allowed to speak, and see me.  Pu. 
You are noble Lady.  Ia. 
But with this condition,  
That whatsoever I entreat you say  
Or do, you put in act the contrary  
The very contrary, you understand me.  Pu. 
How's this? if you command me to affect you,  
What can I do?  Ia. 
I won't be so cruel.  
If these conditions please, you may proceed.  Va. 
But hark you Lady, I may laugh before you,  
And in your absence have the liberty  
To use my tongue.  Ia. 
What else, sir.  Va. 
And when must I begin to mum.  Ia. 
I'll tell you.  Pu. 
Another word,  
If we be just to your commands, dear Lady,  
At six months' end, how shall we both be satisfied?  
You have forgot the statute.  Ia. 
He that shall  
Express most care to do his penance for me,  
Must be the man, I say no more, imagine.  
My Lord Fizavarice.  Enter the Lord Fitzavarice. 
Now begins your trial.  Lo. 
How fares your virtuous sister Lady Peregrine?  Ia. 
That Gentleman can tell you.  Lo. 
He tell me?  Ia. 
Yes, he had a message to deliver you.  Vayne-man makes pitiful signs, shrings. Lo. 
Sir you much honour me.  Ia. 
Nay, let him know't, here have been turns my Lord,  
Since you were here.  Lo. 
Is she in health; you do not mock me?  Ia. 
If you love me, tell him the whole story, prithee,  
For my sake.  Pu. 
How she jeers him.  Lo. 
Pox on your subtle shoulders, are you drunk?  
If I shall think you Jeer me, be still silent,  
I'll make you speak.  Ia. 
Ha, ha.  He kicks him, Vain. Exit shaking his head, and shoulders. Pu. 
Ha, ha.  Lo. 
What do you laugh at?  Pu. 
At his folly my noble Lord.  Lo. 
'Tis well you do, sir, what's your meaning Lady?  Ia. 
You shall know presently, if you entreat  
That Gentleman to stay.  Lo. 
He is not going.  Ia. 
But your commands upon him will make sure.  Lo. 
Let me entreat you not to leave me, sir.  Pu. 
I leave you my noble Lord? if every sand  
Within my glass, were a long life, I should  
Employ 'em all in waiting on your Lordship.  
And think the time were poor, and short to serve you  
I leave you my good Lord? i'm not about it.  Ia. 
Pray, sir, stay.  Pu. 
Your Lordship's humble servant, some affairs  
Press my departure.  Lo. 
You'll not mock me, sir?  Ia. 
You shall stay.  Pu. 
Lady I am gone, my Lord, I must beseech  
Your pardon, for the world, I dare not slip  
A minute:  Ia. 
Then go, you may go.  Pu. 
Not for a Kingdom Lady, I will stay,  
And grow here for your service.  Lo. 
How came these gentlemen by these strange humours?  Ia. 
I'll tell you, sir.  Enter Lady Plott, and Dormant. Dor. 
Sir Solitary Plot, your husband and my worthy Lord and Master, commends his service to your Lordship, and prays you would please to accommodate him, with your Coach.  Plo. 
This fellow's infected too with serious folly.  Dor. 
Towards midnight he does purpose to take the air,  
And make some visits.  Plo. 
Visits and air at midnight? pray return  
My Lord ambassador to sir Solitary,  
I will give order when I go to Bed,  
To have the Coach made ready for his progress.  
Stay, I have a great desire to see his worship,  
Has he the same complexion still? I prithee  
Leave of thy gravity, and answer me,  
Is he in Bed?  Dor. 
No Madam, a most strange  
Disaster broke his sleep, and we shall be  
At counsel presently, do not I talk  
Already like a statesman?  Plo. 
It shall be so, come nearer.  Lo. 
This your device: 'tis pleasant and pursue it,  
Your sister—  Enter Lady Bellamia. Plo. 
Be you sure, and secure, Jacintha you must  
with me.  Exit Dor. Ia. 
Whether?  Plo. 
To my husband's Chamber.  Lo. 
Madam, your husband is returned I hear.  Bel. 
I hope you have not met.  Lo. 
Why noble Madam?  Enter Vain-man as peeping if my Lord were gone, and beckons to Pumicestone. 
we shall be friends if you have mercy, to  
Forgive what's past, my soul shall not deserve  
His ill opinion, I hope all is well between you two.  Bel. 
No hearts did ever meet  
More loving lie, until he saw—  Lo. 
What, Madam?  Bel. 
The presents that you sent me.  Lo. 
It was my fear.  Ia. 
Servant.  Pu. 
Madam.  Ia. 
My dumb Knight too, we shall have the more mirth.  Ex. Bel. 
Would I had been poor still, although you bring  
All innocent thoughts. My Lord, I must beseech you,  
Never to see me again, oh never, sir,  
It will be dangerous to express your virtue,  
And every minute you stay here, is fatal,  
Alas I fear he's come.  Enter Confident. Co. 
My Lord, I have been active,  
And all my bodies in a bath to find you.  Sir 
Walter Peregrine is arrested.  Lo. 
How?  Bel. 
Oh misery of miseries!  Lo. 
Look to your mistress.  Exit Lady, and waiting-woman. Co. 
Her ladyship's pardon, I observed not her  
So near. 'tis very certain.  Lo. 
I suspect  
This knave, alas poor gentleman, and yet  
'tis no misfortune to me, things considered:  
Now he is safe, and I may walk securely;  
In Prison let him lie and cool his valour.  
I shall be in charity with the tribe of varlets,  
For this good turn, this taking him i'th' nick,  
And owe the wretch a sum, for being so fortunate  
To set the Mastiffs on him, I owe thee too,  
For thy good news, come Confident.  Co. 
To my ambition.  
d'ee hear my Lord, the good news is not all  
You owe me for, I knew it would be grateful;  
You owe me for the act, it was my wit  
Betrayed him to the arrest, held him in prate  
Whilst the honest Knave your Scrivener fetched the vultures  
With fangs keen as the Devils.  Lo. 
How I am bound to thee?  Con. 
I knew 'twas necessary. Every man  
That vows his service, has not that extent  
Of brain to bring about these fine things for you.  
What think you of the ma'mosel, his wife now?  
You have no opportunity, no power  
To humble her proud body, while her husband  
Sets up a frippery with his gay wardrobe;  
Grows into new acquaintance with diseases,  
And comfortable vermin; breaks stone walls  
To show the proverb, and his hunger mighty;  
Curses his Stars, and learns to cant, and praise  
The steam of ale, with an unchristian tossed in't;  
Doth reverence Barmudas, and the ghost  
Of cheese, with the Egyptian Idol Onions,  
And crusts to break an elephant's tooth. All this  
I ha' done for you, my good Lord,  Lo. 
For which  
I must pronounce thee a rascal; sordid wretch,  
Was this your act for me? curse on thy soul for't,  
My honour bleeds to death, see me no more.  Enter Scrivener. Scr. 
My Lord.  Lo. 
You are come in a good time, sir.  Co. 
Are you so cunning my young Lord, I must make my Lady  
Sure, ere he talk, and tell her this; 'tis not'  
The constitution of every Lord  
To take unkindly when a man compounds  
A duel for him, if I be driven to't  
I can forswear't again. Let valiant fools  
Brag of their souls no matter what they say,  
A coward dares in ill, do more than they.  Exit. Enter Sir Walter Peregrine, Captain, and under-sheriff. She. 
'tis all the favour I could show him, sir,  
To make my house his Prison.  Exit. Sir. 
'tis but hell, one story higher.  Cap. 
You must arm yourself  
With noble fortitude, passion but unmans us,  
And makes us less for bearing.  Sir. 
Dost think friend,  
The sense of all my debts could shake me thus?  
I knew 'twould come, and in my fears examined  
The mischief they present, 'tis not their weight  
Affrights me, let the vultures whet their Talons,  
And creditors, with hearts more stubborn, than  
The mettle they adore, double their malice,  
Had I a pile of debts upon me, more  
Heavy than all the World, it could, but with  
The pressure keep this piece of earth beneath 'em,  
My soul would be at large, and feel no burden;  
That which I count my torture, exceeds all  
That yet has been in mention. At a time,  
Almost the very minute, when my hopes  
Were ripe to punish him, and revenge had mounted  
Her steely arm whose fall had crushed the soul  
Of my fame's ravisher, to be snatched up  
By a whirlwind thus, disarmed of all my hopes,  
My hands bound up, not able to relieve  
My bleeding honour: this, this murders me.  
And that all this should be his cursed plot,  
That gave me my first wound.  Cap. 
d'ee think my Lord  
Can show himself so dishonourable?  Sir. 
Can Lords  
Be cowards? dost not appear, when I am pursued  
By his own bloodhounds? has he not laid on me  
(And what may not by this example follow  
To sink me to a dungeon) all the debts  
I owe him? nay is it not clear, he practises  
Intelligence abroad, provoking others  
To lay their sums upon me, that I may  
Consume a Prisoner, and assure his lust  
More scope to revel with my adulterous Madam,  
My wife whose name is torment to my heart,  
'bove all the engines meant to wound mankind.  
Oh woman, that hast forfeited the glory.  
Of thy creation, and become man's ruin.  Cap. 
This is a circumstance I confess, but yet  
Cannot make me conclude my Lord so ignoble:  
I know he had a wanton pile of flesh,  
But a more noble soul, than to betray  
His enemy so basely.  Enter Sheriff and Scrivener. Sir. 
Is't not mischief  
Enough to feel the cruelty of a prisoner,  
But that black fiend must persecute my eyesight  
Th'adopted son of Lucifer?  Scr. 
I have a letter from a noble friend of yours.  Sir. 
Carry it to hell.  She. 
Correct your passion,  
And leave your understanding free, to know  
Your happiness, this man howe'er your rage  
Let fly at him, will deserve better Character,  
When he appears the means of your enlargement.  Cap. 
How Master Sheriff?  Sir. 
He means of my enlargement?  
Take heed how you do mock me, sir.  She. 
Your Sword—  
Y'are free again, each particle of a debt discharged.  Sir. 
By whom?  She. 
Not a fee left unsatisfied.  Sir. 
I am in a Wilderness.  Scr. 
You may come out when you please, if your worship  
Will be at leisure to peruse this paper,  
There is his name, hath been at all this charge,  
Who has commanded me to ask your pardon,  
And on my knees I beg it, I am undone else,  
For ever with his Lordship.  Sir. Cap. 
Lord Fitzavarice?  Scr. 
It was without his knowledge, Master Confident  
Charmed me into it, the devil did assist.  Cap. 
The devil?  Scr. 
Yes, we three, I am sorry for it,  
And if your worship have occasion  
To use a hundred pieces more, I have'em  
Ready at your service, pray entreat him to  
Accept it, I expect no scribbling for it,  
Nor use, nor principal, nor his word; but to  
My Lord, that I may be the driver still of all his moneys.  Cap. 
I was confident, and long since cleared his Lordship  
In my thoughts.  Sir. 
Was there ever such a thing in nature?  Cap. 
You must take the man's benevolence,  
He is undone else, come there is no harm in't.  Scr. 
If they be not weight, I'll change 'em.  Cap. 
No, no.  Scr. 
I humbly thank your worship.  Exit and Sheriff. Sir. 
I am all wonder.  Reads, When you find all things fairly discharged, though you acquit not me, be pleased to continue a voluntary Prisoner for some few minutes, there is necessity we should discourse, and conclude something else for both our honours. Cap. 
You must pronounce him innocent, had he  
Been coward, as you thought him, at least charge  
He might ha' saved his honour, and secured your absence.  Sir. 
I begin to be ashamed,  
And my suspicion cowardly falls off;  
Yet certainly all this proceeds not from  
Devotion to me, it is a bounty  
He looks my wife should thank him for, ha?  Cap. 
Now I see all are your empty jealousies,  
But think and be convinced, were his thoughts foul  
As you imagine to your Lady, it  
Had been ridiculous to set you at liberty,  
The only bar to his design, lust is not  
So tame, and foolish, common policy  
would have instructed him to have let you rather  
Languish, and rot in Prison, be collected,  
And think whom your false fears have injured,  
A noble wife and friend.  Sir. 
I am too blame,  
This act hath made me understand two souls.  
I'll take 'em both to mine, and ask forgiveness.  Cap. 
Your Lady.  Enter Lady Peregrine. Sir. 
Forgive me my Bellamia,  
Thou appearest white again, and only I  
Black with my false suspicions of thy goodness,  
My Lord has given me a satisfaction  
Large as his virtue, welcome to my bosom,  
My best, my chaste Bellamia.  La. 
This is joy  
Able to drown my poor heart, but is all  
This peace concluded?  Sir. 
Thus again confirmed.  La. 
Just heaven hath heard my prayers, happy Bellamia.  
What riches I embrace, what worlds of treasures,  
In every kiss, how many lives I take  
From those sweet smiles?  Cap. 
Who could suspect this Lady?  Bel. 
But I am lost again, in what place am I?  
is't not a Prison? oh that sad thought shoots  
A trembling through me.  Sir. 
All is cured again.  Bellamia 
I am free too, out of debt,  
Nay I did wonder at it.  Bel. 
You amaze me.  Sir. 
Wast not a brave Physician, that could cure  
Two such distempers, when my soul, and fortune  
Lay gasping, to recover both? 'tis done,  
Done by thy friend, and mine, that honest Lord  
Hath paid all, to the scruple of a fee,  
What thanks shall we both pay him my Bellamia?  
Can he hath done this miracle, allow  
A place for lust within him? 'tis impossible.  
But he is coming hither, stay not thou,  
It will require more leisure to express  
Thy gratitude, return, and tell thy friends  
The wonder first, that when I shall present  
His person next, they may have spacious souls,  
To admire and entertain him.  Bel. 
I obey you,  
Do not allay this unexpected joy  
With a sad change good heaven.  Exit Cap. 
You will expect him.  Sir. 
Religiously, an age I'll wait for him,  
I prithee stay, and witness with what cheerfulness  
I'll ask his pardon.  Cap. 
He is come.  Enter Lord. Sir. 
My Lord,  
As you have made me object of your mercy,  
By such an act of bounty, as no times  
Have gloried in, and in that shown the clearness  
Of your brave soul, uncapable of stain,  
Still let it shine with charity, and make  
Me confident of pardon, for an injury  
I blush, and dare bleed for, to show repentance.  Lo. 
Are you then satisfied?  Sir. 
I am my Lord.  Lo. 
I was bold, but with no purpose to disparage  
Your credit, to discharge some trifling debts.  Sir. 
They were great, my Lord, and must enlarge my acknowledgement,  
you have obliged two lives to pray for you.  Cap. 
And the whole age to admire.  Lo. 
You would encourage me.  
One word, your honour's safe again.  Sir. 
And happy.  Lo. 
Mine suffers, 'tis but young and growing on me,  
It bleeds by your suspicion, I was bound  
To this expense, 'tis a malicious World,  
And men are apt to imagine, I was glad  
You were in prison, to preserve my skin  
with some excuse, this brand must not come near  
My forehead, though your sea be calm, I would not  
Have my fame lost i'th' tempest of men's tongues,  
I have made no reply, in point of man,  
To your challenge, and the noise may be dispersed,  
Nor will what you are pleased to accept, render  
Me less unquestioned, but beget men's fears  
At a high rate I have bribed your patience  
Basely, perhaps, their impudence will reach  
To say, I have bought my passage to your Lady,  
And your consent toth' shame,  Sir. 
I will proclaim you  
Noble to all the World, and my preserver.  Lo. 
there's nothing but your sword can do me right,  
We shall not trouble seconds, if you please  
The Captain stand for both, he is a gentleman  
Known truly valiant, which implies he cannot  
Deceive where he is trusted, I'll expect,  
You'll follow as you are a Gentleman.  Exit. Cap. 
He seems troubled. What's the matter?  Sir. 
Didst think it possible so fair a Sky  
Should be delivered of a tempest?  Cap. 
How?  Sir. 
I'll tell thee as we walk, thou must not leave us.  
That man is miserably compelled, that must,  
To save his fame, be to himself unjust.  Exeunt.  

Actus Quintus.  Enter Sir Solitary, Dormant, and Oldrat. Dor. 
The Coach will be made ready.  Sol. 
So, so, let's think and talk of something else:  
time's precious, let's talk wisely, 'twill concern us,  
My brain is not in tune about my nephew,  
Who knows upon what plot he is sent hither,  
The Dutch are grand projectors, let's examine  
Where he is gone now.  Dor. 
My opinion is, to kill somebody, or other.  Sol. 
That would be known, and yet I heard a buzz,  
Some noble Man was aimed at, we were best  
Say nothing, and discover him to the state,  
We may be else in danger, and made accessaries  
To the parricide, which is not as the vulgar  
Interpret, killing of a father, but  
Parem cedendo, killing of a Peer,  
A Peer o'th' land, mark that.  Old. 
I understand a Procedendo  
Well enough, but who shall serve the writ?  Dor. 
Under your pardon, how can  
You prove he is a murderer, let him first kill  
somebody, no matter who it be, and than you may  
Discover him with a safe conscience.  Old. 
Laughs.  Sol. 
What's the matter.  Old. 
I am of an opinion under correction that if we  
Should discover him, we should not carry it so  
Privately, but it would be known, and then we shall  
Be in as much danger o'th' tother side for concealing it.  Dor. 
Laughs—  Sol. 
Who's that?  Dor. 
Now I think better on't, it cannot be concealed  
Under your favour fellow Oldrat, for if we do not  
Discover, the state will not be so wise, as we are,  
And then 'twere pity o'their lives, besides  
If he go on to kill whom he list, and nobody hear on't  
He may undo the Town by degrees in a moment,  
And neither we nor any that is hurt, the wiser for't.  Old. 
Laughs again.  Sol. 
Who is it laughs?  Old. 
Not I, sir, ha, ha.  Dor. 
Nor I, sir, ha, ha.  Sol. 
Stand both before me, is there not some spirit  
I'th' room? has not some conjurer a plot upon me?  
Cato was wise, and never laughed, but when  
Out of his casement, he beheld an Ass  
Eat Thistles, where's the may-game? will none answer?  
Sure they did laugh at me, but I'll prevent 'em,  
And vex their spleens, away. I won't trust  
A laughing wizard, there's a killing face  
Behind it, oh the juggling of the World!  
Am I ridiculous at home? there is  
Some plot in agitation. I smell a Rat.  Enter Dormant. Dor. 
If please you, sir, there is a dumb Ambassador desires to  
Speak with you.  Sol. 
A dumb Ambassador?  
When does he look for audience? of what nation?  
Where in the Map is Dumbland? I should much  
Affect that Country, let him have access.  Enter Vain-man. 
I understand you are a dumb Ambassador;  
Your business pray with me: you are no Lawyer,  
Nor no divine I take it, are there no women  
Non Magpies in your Country?  Vain-man makes signs, and salutes him. Sol. 
This fellow must have a rare understanding,  
For nature recompenseth the defects  
Of one part, with redundance in another:  
Blind men have excellent memories, and the tongue  
Thus indisposed, there's treasure in the intellect:  
Yet there may be a plot, he's sent to observe me,  
A state spy, but I'll cozen his intelligence,  
And be as dumb as he.  They make signs one to another. Enter Pumiceston. Sol. 
What are you, sir?  Pu. 
I am his interpreter.  Sol. 
Oh then first answer me, how came he dumb?  Pu. 
With melancholy, sir, he has a strange  
Humour to cross the method of the World.  Sol. 
As how, sir? pray be plain.  Pu. 
Why; sir, to make  
The night his time for study, talk, or business,  
And never go to bed but in the morning.  
But keep this to yourself, for 'tis a secret.  Sol. 
Study? what did he study pray o'th' nights?  Pu. 
Why plots, nothing but plots: he did suspect  
All mankind, nay their shadows in the hangings,  
If they but laid their heads together, were  
Dangerous, and talked treason, such a fool,  
A serious fool was never before extant.  Enter Jacintha. Ia. 
How does my Solitary Uncle?  Sol. 
Ha cousin, forbear, we are engaged upon  
Affairs of weight, that's an Ambassador.  Ia. 
What language does he speak?  Sol. 
None, none; but this is his interpreter.  Ia. 
Interpreter, and yet he speaks no language.  Sol. 
he'll overhear you, 'tis a dumb Ambassador.  
I pray be gone, you are a woman, go.  Ia. 
And can you get no other company  
Then dumb and mad-folks?  Sol. 
Who is mad?  Ia. 
That Gentleman.  
Be you but master of some sense a while,  
I'll make't appear he has none. Come forward, sir,  
Do you observe his motion? I entreat  
He should come forward, and he plays the crab.  
Stand still, sir, I beseech you.  Pu. 
With your pardon  
I must be in action, it does stir my blood,  
Which would congeal through cold else in my veins.  Ia. 
If it be beneficial to your body  
Practise this motion still.  Sol. 
'Tis very strange;  
He now appears a statue:  
Are they not both mad? do you think Jacintha  
They have no plot in this, how came they thus distracted?  Ia. 
This grew mad with catching cold  
a-bed, and lying from his wife.  Sol. 
Cold causes are very dangerous.  Ia. 
You are something guilty on't.  Enter Lady Plott, Oldrat, Dormant. Noise within. La. Pl. 
What if my husband be asleep?  Dor. 
we'll wake him.  Old 
Good Madam be not troublesome, do not you know who I am? I charge you to resist us, come your ways, where; where be these traitors? let me see, where is sir Solitary? I thought he would ha' shown more wit than to conceal traitors in his house.  Sol. 
Traitors?  Old. 
Traitors, we look for, and traitors we will have,  
And they be above ground.  Dor. 
I saw two suspicious persons come into the house with my  
Own eyes, and they must out, there they are, I'll take  
My oath Master Constable.  Ia. 
Master Vaineman, and Master Pumicestone you two suspected  
For traitors, oh the rotten hearts of men!  Old. 
Reprehend them. Your good Knight must go too, go cheerfully 'twill be the better for you, if you discharge an honest conscience, you may have the favour to hang tell you be dead.  La. 
Did ever any man was sure o'th' gallows, shake so?  Ia. 
This fright may work some good effect upon him,  
Many men have been frighted from their wits,  
Having none left, why is't not possible  
He should be frighted back again into 'em?  Va. 
One word I beseech you, 'tis time to speak.  La. Pl. 
I hope you did not mean this for his cure,  
I am not so weary cozen of my freedom.  
He that's full master of his reason, may  
Be master of his wife too, which I like not.  Enter Lady Peregrine. Per. 
My Uncle, sister, Madam. Sir Ha more plots?  Ia. 
What's the news sister? you look pleasantly.  Pu. 
Your face is full of sunshine Madam.  Per. 
bless me, but what are these?  Old. 
We are subjects of command, she'll discover us.  Per. 
Men? apprehended? what new fears invade me?  Dor. 
What shall we do now?  Ia. 
E'en what you please.  she pulls of their beards. Per, 
Why this is Dormant your servant Uncle.  Old. 
Who would ha' thought it?  Per. 
And your name Oldrat, what's the matter gentlemen?  
ha' you an interlude?  Pu. 
If they be no officers, we can be no traitors.  Dor. 
'twas Mistress Jacintah's plot, we did but act it.  Ia. 
I was desirous of a scene of mirth,  
How far we should ha' driven it, I know not,  
Just so ridiculous are all your plots Uncle, ha, ha.  
You had your parts my brace of learned gentlemen,  
Whom I do discharge from fear and further penance.  Per. 
Make not yourself the general derision,  
Your drudge's mirth.  La. Pl. 
Nay, let him have his humour.  Ia. 
If you have still ambition to be laughed at,  
And think it possible I can love such motleys,  
Come thus a-wooing every day, I shall find  
Some trick at last to make your worships famous.  Va. 
What think you of'is?  Pu. 
One of us is sure to carry her, what think you o'th' device, and the worst come to the worst, for the thousand pound?  Va, 
We must agree, pay it, and be revenged.  Pu. 
Do not you think you have undone us now,  
And that we shall despair, and drown ourselves,  
Or slip out of the World in a clean halter?  
No, we will live to vex thee, for my part  
Because thou gavest me liberty to speak,  
To show I scorn to obey thee, and in malice  
To thy injunction, I will never speak  
Again, to any woman, in revenge,  Exit. 
I'll be more dumb than he was.  Va. 
And because.  
Thou didst enjoin me silence, from henceforth  
I'll practise talk to weary all thy sex.  
I will be all, the everlasting talker,  
And rail upon all women, till I have worn  
My tongue toth' root, I'll study presently  
A satire that shall eat thee through the bones,  
And send thee first to an Hospital.  Ex. Sir. 
I see I am a fool, a melancholy  
Suspicious fool, and all my plots are nothing.  Ia. 
Let's follow, and either make him mad outright,  
Or bring it to a cure, your part's not done yet.  Exeunt. La. Pl. 
This will undo me, now must I to Prison.  Dor. 
What dost thou think they mean Oldrat?  Old. 
I think? I hope they mean well.  
And lovingly, and let us like honest servants  
Into the cellar and pray for'em.  Dor. 
A match.  Exeunt. Enter Lord, Sir Walter, and Captain. Sir. 
Then nothing will prevail but we must fight?  Lo. 
And no place more convenient, draw sir Walter,  
And Captain, now indifferent friend to both,  
For I have no suspicion thou canst slain  
thyself by partiality, witness with  
The heart I bring, I have no thought so black,  
As murder, or revenge, but to preserve  
My honour, which no balm can cure, if once  
But the suspect of coward fall upon it.  Sir 
I am not so unjust my Lord to doubt your courage.  Cap. 
you have given proof my Lord abroad,  
That you dare fight.  Lo. 
Though I affect no glory  
From actions of this nature, yet the World  
At home must be convinced, our fame is lost else:  
Had Peregrine been coward, or not known  
For valour, I had run less hazard of  
My fame, by being silent, but as I am  
Beneath him in opinion, a young man  
Circled with expectation of something,  
That must declare me worthy of a name,  
And love of men, I must attempt this danger:  
But let me tell thee this, which perhaps may  
Render thy sword more fatal to me, I  
Did love thy Lady with a sinful purpose,  
Pursued ever persecuted her chaste soul,  
To satisfy my wantonness, but found  
An innocence so rich in her, as may  
Alone excuse the ill of all her sex,  
Nor has the goodness only the effect  
To preserve her, but it returned my eyes  
With so much shame upon myself, that I  
Threw off my lust, and doted on her virtue,  
Heaven shut his mercy up if I dissemble,  
This injust obligation to cherish,  
I did reward with trifles, which perhaps  
Gave fuel to your jealousy, but know  
I have designed a larger recompense,  
Which your sword may confirm to her in few minutes,  
For if I chance fall by it, she is declared  
The heir to my estate, and she deserves it,  
Which she'll employ no question to assure  
Your peace, and pardon for my death, come on, sir.  Sir. 
I am more lost than ever, let my wonder  
Be past, or you will fight against a man  
Whose soul's a great way off. Didst hear this Captain?  Cap. 
With pardon of your Lordship, since you have  
Declared so freely, what I think wins credit  
With him too, your intentions to his Lady:  
There is no cause, you should engage your bloods, To any loss  Sir. 
You are my preserver, sir,  
Make me not so ingrateful to advance  
My sword against your life, that gave me all  
The benefit of mine, I have assurance  
Enough of you, and my wife's honour.  Lo. 
there's  
A purse of gold is troublesome, it may  
Be useful toth' survivor, come, sir, fight  
By thy own Ladies virtue, I shall else provoke you rudely.  Sir. 
For her sake my Lord, we should be friends.  Lo. 
That won't help my fame,  
Nor yours, if you regard what threatens it,  
I must not live upon the charity  
Of people's tongues, their justice shall acknowledge  
I do not fear to bleed, let it be argument  
To inflame thee, that thou mayest be happier  
Upon my loss, since my last minute gives  
Thy wife possession of all my fortune.  Sir. 
That rather charms me from each violence.  Lo. 
This must compel you then, till now I never  Fight. 
Thought thee ingrateful, by thy fame I charge thee,  
By thy Bellamia's love, fight not with pity,  
Let me be worthy at least to fall with honour,  
Fight so, as howsoever fate determine,  
I may get honour, though in death, and not  
Suffer without a wound.  Fight both wounded. 
So her's some blood yet.  Sir. 
I did but imitate my Lord your Character,  Cap. 
Blood of both sides, nay then I interpose,  
As you are gentlemen, for other titles  
Weigh nothing here, be just to both your honours,  
You have done well, exceeding well, unless  
I shall conclude there's malice on one side,  
Be yourselves now, and on such noble terms  
Be reconciled again, sir Walter is  
No enemy at heart, and the World must  
Be satisfied my Lord, in your just valour,  
Think what blessed providence has marked you both  
For noble ends.  Sir. 
I'll trust him with my sword,  
Which rather shall make next impression here,  
Then be his danger.  Lo. 
I am overcome, take me thy Captive.  Sir. 
My most honoured friend.  Cap. 
So, so, 'tis fair on both sides, but my Lord,  
You bleed much, can you spare it.  Lo. 
Well enough, I'll wait upon you home.  Cap. 
First have a Surgeon.  Lo. 
What for a scratch? let me present thee safe,  
To thy Bellamia, she but with a smile  
Can cure all wounds, come Captain.  Sir. 
we both wait on you.  Exeunt. Enter Jacintha, and Lady Peregrine. Ia. 
You tell me wonders.  Bael, 
I shall much repent  
My discourse to thee, if it did not raise  
Thy admiration, 'tis a noble Lord,  
Thou art bound to make him restitution.  Ia. 
Of what?  Bel. 
Of fame, you were jealous of our honours.  Ia. 
I have read the Chronicles, but never met  
With a young Lord has done the like.  Bel. 
To what  
Virtue in time will he grow to Jacintha?  Ia. 
Virtue? there's another thing, not usual  
In men of his rank, I allow a Gentleman  
To pay his own debts, but another man's,  
vows a record, besides all this, to love  
Another man's wife, a handsome woman too,  
And be at cost to keep her honest? miracles.  Bel. 
What joys flow in my heart. Thou art sad sister.  Ia. 
No sadness, but I have another passion, that troubles me.  Bel. 
You'll be in time converted,  
And leave your wild invectives against men,  
'tis possible you may marry, if you could  
Find such another man to be your husband.  Ia. 
No, I wood not.  Bel. 
What?  Ia. 
Find such another man to be my husband.  Bel. 
Thou wouldst have him, how now my witty sister?  Ia. 
It cannot be concealed.  Bel. 
Has little Cupid  
Been practising with his bird-bolt, if thou be'st not,  
I'll wish thee heartily in love, to punish  
Thy want of charity against all men  
And marriage, 'tis but justice, nay be not melancholy;  
He will be here presently.  Ia. 
He shall be welcome.  Bel. 
He shall.  Ia. 
Be very welcome hither, he once said  
If I remember well, could he but love,  
He would marry me of all women alive.  
My fortune's not to be despised, however  
My heart is rich enough, but it shall languish  
To death, ere I will tell him so.  Enter Lord, Sir walter, and Captain. Bel. 
But dost love him  
Indeed? now but for pity I could laugh.  La. 
You may triumph sister, you have cause.  Bel. 
And thou canst have no argument to despair,  
Come shall I tell my Lord?  Ia. 
What?  Bel. 
That thou lovest him.  Ia. 
Do him not so much injury, my passion  
Can still walk in disguise, though I confess  
Since your relation, 'tis become more troublesome  
To be confined, oh love! I never thought  
To have felt thy sting, I dare not stay to see him;  
I shall betray myself with many blushes:  
Farewell my Lord Fitzavarice.  Lo. 
Not so  
he'll rather meet a welcome to his bosoms,  
Repent not Lady, y'are but lovingly  
Betrayed, and 'tis my happiness, I should  
Have pleaded at this bar, in this prevention  
I am doubly blessed, be constant, and divide  
With me both heart, and fortunes: thou must needs  
Be excellently good in being her sister.  Ia. 
I must confess my Lord, I honour you.  
But not for any titles, although some  
Woman may be allowed the ambition,  
But for your noble nature.  Lo. 
I am confirmed.  Sir W. 
But all is well again, and must exalt  
Thy truer joys by finding us both live,  
And knit into a peace no time can violate,  Lo. 
Let me salute The Example of chaste honour;  
Sister I now must call thee, and shall glory  
To own that title by Jacintha's love.  Sir W. La. 
All blessings crown your wishes.  Cap. 
I have a heart to wish you joys.  Lo. 
They will be all a debt  
To your noble care of us, Master Confident.  Ia. 
One of my servants but not yet discharged.  Enter Confident. Lo. 
You come to turn and wind this lady's fancy  
With your wit now, but your devices fadge not,  
It is three minutes since she was disposed of,  
And though my stock of brain will not reach, to  
Make a large jointure of so many hundred  
Sonnets per annum, and rare Elegies,  
Some fresh, and some that ha' slain 7. years pickled,  
In other languages: yet she'll be content  
With a less witty fortune, my estate sir.  Con. 
'tis happiness enough for me  
To snuff your marriage Taper, whose bright shine  
Shall put out the World's eye.  Lo. 
Spare, spare your fancies.  
But I'll not now arraign you, if you mean  
To have me, know me again, chaffer some wit  
Away for honesty, I conceal your shame,  Co. 
there's hope then of your pardon, when I rise  
From what has justly forfeited my name,  
To show the World your childing is not lost,  
Your Lordship will not be ashamed again  
To own me for your servant.  Lo. 
I shall be a glad witness and admirer.  How now, music? Music. Enter Dormant. Dor. 
willt please you gentlemen to have a Song.  
Sir Solitary, and my Lady are at it, he is grown  
The most Jovial gentleman— hark.  

Song.  La. Pl. 
Welcome welcome, again to thy wits.  
This is a holy day.  Sir Sol. 
I'll have no plots, nor melancholy fits  
But merrily pass the time away:  
They are mad, that are sad.  La. Pl. 
be ruled by me;  
And none shall be so merry as we.  Sir Sol. 
The kitchen shall catch cold no more.  La. 
I'll have no Key to the buttery door,  Sir. 
The Fiddlers shall sing,  
The House shall ring,  
And the World shall see.  Both. 
What a merry couple.  
Merry couple.  
Couple, couple,  
we will be.   Enter sir Solitary, and his Lady. Sir. 
we are new married Gentlemen, I must  
Invite your Lordship for my guest. Your Tunes  
Are melancholy. Welcome home my wandering nephew;  
You shall be welcome too, sir.  Cap. 
I'm your servant.  Sir. 
When shall we dance Jacintha?  Lo. 
Sure this humour  
Is very young, pray Madam is he serious?  
Is there no plot in this?  La. Pl. 
Beyond my hope  
He is recovered sir, and I must stand to't,  
And turn a miracle, a Lady housewife.  Sir Sol. 
No more, lest with the joy I run into  
A madness worse, than melancholy, you tell  
Me wonders: bless my senses. And shall we dance?  Lo. 
I am for any mirth, the day requires it,  
In which love too long blind hath found his eyes,  
And leads the way to his own Paradise.  
FINIS.    

Epilogue.  
PRaise a fair day at night the Proverb says,  
And 'tis the evening that must crown all Plays.  
For although writers may be first allowed,  
To speak themselves, their judgements are too proud  
That waving all authority beside  
Think 'tis enough when they are satisfied,  
we must appeal to you, unless you smile  
we have but cherished vain hopes all this while,  
But if you like, by this we shall best prove it,  
You'll follow The Example, if you love it.   

Imprimatur  
October 19. 1637. Tho. Wykes.   

Prologue.  
'tWill be a great Assize, how things will hit  
For us appearing at this bar of wit.  
Is most uncertain, we have named our Play  
The Example, and for aught we know it may  
Be made one, for at no time did the laws  
However understood, more fright the cause  
Of unbefriended posy, since the praise  
Of wit, and judgement is not now adays  
Owing to them that write, but he that can  
Talk loud, and high, is held the witty man,  
And censures finely, rules the Box, and strikes  
With his court nod consent to what he likes;  
But this must be, nor is't our parts to grudge  
Any that by their place should be a judge;  
Nay, he that in the Parish never was  
Thought fit to be o'th' jury, has a place  
Here, on the Bench for six pence, and dares sit,  
And boast himself commissioner of wit,  
Which though he want he can condemn with oaths,  
As much as they that we are the purple clothes,  
Robes I should say, or whom i'th' Roman state  
Some ill-looked stage-keepers, like Lictors wait  
With Pipes for fasces, while another bears  
Three-footed stools in stead of Ivory chairs,  
This is a destiny, to which we bow,  
For all are innocent but the Poets now,  
Who suffer for their guilt of truth, and arts,  
And we for only speaking of their parts.  
But be it so, be judges all, and be  
With our consent, but thus far take me w'ee  
If any meet here, as some men i'th' age  
Who understand no sense, but from one stage,  
And over partial will entail like land  
Upon heir's male all action, and command  
Of voice and gesture, upon whom they love,  
These, though called Judges, may delinquents prove.  
But few such we hope here, toth' rest we say  
Hear patiently ere you condemn the Play.  
'tis not the author's Confidence, to dare  
Your judgements, but your calm ears to prepare,  
That if for mercy you can find no room,  
He prays that mildly, you pronounce his doom.