THE GAMESTER.  
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 GAMESTER.  

Actus. I.  Enter Master Wilding; and Mistress Penelope. _WIld. 
What need you be so coy now?  Pen. 
Pray collect  
yourself, remember what you are, and whose  
You have a virtuous gentlewoman, think  
Upon your faith to her.  Wi. 
Think of a Fiddlestick.  
While you put me in mind of what I am,  
You quite forget yourself: my wife I allow  
Your kinswoman far off, to whom a widow  
Your father left you, with a handsome fortune,  
Which by her marriage, I have in possession,  
And you too; therefore as you hope to be  
In due time worth a husband, think upon't:  
I can deserve respect, then wisely use me,  
As you would keep me.  Pene. 
This is but a trial  
Of my strength, for I know you have more charity,  
(Should I consent) then Shipwreck your own honour.  
But take heed sir, how you proceed to jest  
With frailty, lest too much disordering  
Your good thoughts, you forget and by degrees,  
Lose your own innocence.  Wi. 
I jest? you'd have me swear, and yet you should not think it such a wonder: to love: come, shake off this frost, it spoils thee; your nature should be soft, and flexible; perhaps thou thinkst, I do not love thee heartily, I know not how to give thee better testimony, then by offering myself to thee if my wife-die, as ten to one she's not immortal, we may couple other way.  Pene. 
What argument is this to assure the truth of your affection to me, that break your vows to her?  Wi. 
Oh! great argument, and you observe: she was a widow when I married her, thou art a young maid, and handsome.  Pene. 
Can you be so ingrateful, to punish whom you should reward, remember sir, she brought you that wealth you have. took you from nothing—  Wi. 
there's reason then for nothing I should love her: hang her estate, I was held a proper man, and in that point, deserved her, and she had millions: and I were free again. I would not draw i'th' team of marriage for ten subsidies not to command a Province.  Pene. 
Yet you said, were your wife dead you'd marry me.  Wi. 
Only thee, and nobody else.  Pene. 
'Twere dangerous to: have many.  Wi. 
To have one, is little less than madness; come, wilt promise? Enter Mistress Wilding.  Pene. 
What?  Wi. 
A course, you know my meaning.  Mi. 
I do not like this whispering, why with her  
So close in parley?  Wi. 
Wilt thou do this feat for me?  
'Tis finished in a pair of minutes.  Pene. 
Yes, upon one condition.  Wi. 
What condition?  Pe. 
That your wife give consent, you shall then command me.  Wi. 
I'll undertake to go a pilgrimage  
To jerusalem, and return sooner: wood  
I did not love thee, love thee infinitely,  
That's all, 'two not do— My wife, I hope. Exit Pene.  
She has not eavesdropped, us; what pity 'tis  
She cannot find the way to Heaven; I should not  
Trouble her in haste, these wives will have no conscience,  
But stick to us everlastingly. Now Lady,  
How did your monkey rest last night, you look  
As you had not done your prayers yet, I won't disturb you.  Mi. 
Pray sir stay, let me but know  
Some reason why you use me thus unkindly?  
If I have been guilty of offence, I am not  
Past hope, but with the knowledge of my error,  
'Tis possible I may amend, and please you.  Wi. 
I do not like you.  Mi. 
You did marry me.  Wi, 
Yes, I did marry you; her's too much record for't,  
I would there were a Parson to unmarry us,  
If any of our Clergy had that faculty,  
He might repair the old; and build as many  
New Abbeys through the Kingdom in a twelvemonth.  
Shall I speak truth? I never much affected thee,  
I married thee for thy soul's sake, not thy body,  
And shall as soon get children on't: and yet  
I do not hate thee, witness, I dare kiss,  
Hold thee by the hand, and sleep in the same house,  
And in thy bed sometimes, something has been done.  Mi. 
Within the memory of man, but—  
What sir?  Wi 
You have a scurvy quality wife, I told you on't.  Mi. 
Once more, and I'll correct it.  Wi. 
You are given to be jealous, I cannot  
Ramble abroad in gentlemen's company  
Whole days, lie out a nights, but you suspect  
I am wanton, 'tis ill done, it becomes no modest  
Woman: that loves her husband, to be jealous,  
whate'er she see, or hears, mend, mend this fault,  
You do not know, how it may work upon me.  
Some wife will bid her husband's leverets welcome,  
Keep house together, and provide clean sheets,  
And cullises to fortify; you ne'er did it:  
Know her own Chamber and not come forth  
Till she be sent for; if her husband kiss her,  
Sometimes, allow her clothes and other trinkets,  
Suffer her carve at Table, she is satisfied,  
And none o'th' parish talk, she carries it  
So handsomely: these morals I have read  
Before now, but you put them not in practice,  
Nor for aught I perceive, have disposition to't,  
Therefore I'll take my course.  Mi. 
To show I can  
Be obedient to my griefs, from this time, sir,  
I won't urge with one unwelcome syllable,  
How much I am neglected, I'll conceal it  
Too from the world, your shame must needs be mine.  
I see you do not love me, where your heart  
Hath placed a worthier thought, let it dwell ever,  
Freely pursue your pleasures, I will have  
No passion that shall mutiny, you are,  
And shall be Lord of me still.  Wi. 
I like this, if it be no disguise.  Mi. 
Do not suspect me,  
I would swear by a kiss, if you vouchsafe it,  
You shall not keep a servant, that shall be more humble.  Wi. 
And obedient to my will?  Mi. 
In all things.  Wi. 
But if I bring home a mistress?  Mi. 
I'll call her sister.  Wi. 
What if there be one  
Already, that does please me, will you not  
Repine, and look awry upon's, when we  
Make much of one another?  Mi. 
So you will but sometimes smile on me too, I'll endeavour.  Wi. 
Well said, this may do good upon me, as  
I find you prompt in this, I may consider  
Other matters: to tell you true, I love  
Your kinswoman.  Mi. 
How?  Wi. 
I'th' way you wot on, but  
I find her cold and peevish, how she may  
Be brought about I know not, 'twould show well,  
And be a precedent for other wives,  
If you would put your help to't.  Mi. 
Goodness bless me.  Wi. 
One woman with another can do more  
In such a cause, than twenty men. I do not  
Wander, you see, out of the blood, this will  
Be a way to justify your obedience.  Mi. 
You show a tyrant now, and stead of framing  
My soul to patience, murder both. Exit.  Wi. 
I have gone too far a conscience; this may  
Spoil all, and now I think upon't, I was  
A coxcomb to discover any party,  
I must deny't again, and carry things  
More closely. How now Will? Enter Hazard.  Ha. 
How now Will? 's that all?  
Look up, and ask me a question like a man,  
What melancholy?  Wi. 
No, no; a toy, a trifle.  Ha. 
That should be a woman, who is't thou art thinking on?  
I have been of your counsel.  Wi. 
I was thinking, o' my Wife—  Ha. 
I met her sad.  Wi. 
I cannot blame her;  
We have had a dialogue; come, thou know'st my bosom,  Ha. 
when dost mean to lie with her?  Wi. 
I know not, but I have offered fair conditions:  
She is very confident, I do not dote  
Upon her beauty, I have told her, sirrah,  
I love her kinswoman.  Ha. 
Y'are not so mad.  Wi. 
The worlds deceived in her, she'll give me leave,  
To ramble where I list, and feed upon  
What best delights my appetite.  Ha. 
He that has  
An ambition to be strangled in his sleep,  
May tell his wife he loves another woman.  Wi. 
But I was not content with this, because  
The other wench was somewhat obstinate,  
I must needs urge my wife, to mollify  
And mould her, for my purpose.  Ha. 
And she consented too?  Wi. 
No 'twould not do.  
This went against her stomach and we parted.  Ha. 
Next time you see her, look to be presented  
With your mistress's nose for this, dost think a woman  
Can be so patient, to know her rival  
I'th' same roof, and leave her eyes, to see thee  
Again? I am sorry for thee.  Wi. 
I am confident  
She dare not: but for all that, would I had  
Been less particular.  Ha. 
Come, I love thee well,  
But not thy wit, to carry things no handsomer:  
You must unravel again, and make your wife  
Believe you did but try her.  
How now, what's the news here?  Enter Officers with Delamore wounded. 1 Off. 
Quickly to a Surgeon, bear him gently.  Ha. 
What's the business.  2 Off. 
Nothing, sir, but a gentleman is killed, and we are  
Carrying him to a Surgeon.  Wi. 
'tis Jack Delamore, he is not dead.  Ha. 
Who hurt him?  Ha. 
Master Beamont; we cannot stay, sir.  Wi. 
Why they were friends.  2 Off. 
But wine made them fall out, some say, about  
Their Mistresses.  Wi. 
I did expect a woman at one end on't.  
What miserable fools are men, to kill  
One another for these Cockatrices!  Ha. 
I am sorry for poor Beamont.  Wi. 
It would be long ere any mistress would  
Be so desperate for her servant, this is valour,  
High and mighty valour.  Ha. 
Men must preserve  
Their honour's man, thou dost not know their quarrel?  Wi. 
Thou art held a piece of a kill-Cow too, look to't before the sessions take an order w'ee: is't not a great deal safer, now to skirmish with a Petticoat, and touse a handsome wench in private; then be valiant in the streets, and kiss the Gallows for't? hang, hang this foolery, let gentlemen rather live, and pay their Tailors, then let their clothes enrich the hangman's wardrobe.  Ha. 
But skirmishing as you call it, with the Petticoat,  
Is by some, held away to this preferment,  
Your wench's ha' been sticklers, and some men  
Dropped in their quarrel.  Wi. 
Let them be such coxcombs  
They cannot die too soon; cannot I have  
A Lady of pleasure, but to please her humour,  
I must be engaged to fight and kill men for her?  
Because her healths refused, another's nose  
Or teeth preferred, substantial grounds for murder,  
We spend our blood too much another way;  
Consumption take me, if I fight for one on'em,  
I will drink single beer first, and live honest,  
Gentlemen are come to a fine pass, do not you  
Think but 'tis possible, I may fight for all this?  Ha. 
There may be causes, that have women in'em,  
But I confess, no polecats, or lewd strumpets,  
Though I do use the trick o'th' flesh, shall drive  
Me to the Surgeon; I had a mother.  Wi. 
And I have a wife, would thou hadst her.  Ha. 
No, No, she is well as she is,  
There may be honour to defend these.  Wi. 
Sometimes.  Ha. 
But there's a mischief greater than all these  
A base and sordid provocation,  
Used among gentlemen, they cannot quarrel  
About a glass of Wine, but our files streigth  
Son of a whore, dead mothers must be torn,  
Out of their graves, or living, have their names  
Poisoned by a prodigious breath: it were  
A brave and noble Law, to make this tongue  
Be cut for't, it would save much blood i'th' year,  
That might be spent more honourably.  Wi. 
The lie grew a dull provocation, this has quickened us, but leave this common place, thou canst not help it, let's talk of something else. Stay is not this Beaumont?  Enter Beaumont, and Officers. Ha. 
Apprehended, alas poor gentleman; how now Ned?  Bea. 
As you see gentlemen, called to my account.  Wi. 
We heard a piece of the misfortune, but  
Be not dejected, he may live.  Bea. 
I fear it.  
Pray lead me where you please, alas. Violante! this news will wound thee too. Exit.  Wi. 
I'll with him, and know the story.  Ha. 
'twill but trouble me  
I can do him no service, beside that,  
I am engaged to meet old Master Barnacle.  Enter Acre-less, Little-stocke, and Sell-away 
Whither, whither Gentlemen, with your swords drawn?  Acr. 
Dost not see a gentleman led to Prison?  
we'll rescue him from the Officers, come join with us:  
We shall draw more to the cause.  Ha. 
You do not mean  
this rashness: hide your swords be advised better;  
D''ee know his fact?  Lit. 
He has slain a gentleman.  Sel. 
They say he is not dead, the wounds not mortal.  Ha. 
And will you make one past cure?  Acr. 
How dost mean?  Ha. 
Upon yourselves, cool your hot bloods a little,  
No mutiny my country men, remember,  
If he recover that is hurt, the tother  
Will come off well enough, without your valour:  
Breath, breathe a while, you may if you have a mind to't  
Instead of rescuing, betray a gentleman,  
And yourselves too, to a danger.  Lit. 
He says right.  Ha. 
'tis scurvy wearing hemp, if you scape killing,  
There be more butchers than sell flesh; and Citizens  
Have no mercy in their Clubs, especially  
When gentlemen have so little wit, to bring  
There heads toth' knocking down, 'tis a revenge  
They owe you for their wives, oh take heed mainly  
Of these left handed Halberdiers.  Acr. 
Confound 'em.  Ha. 
How many will you kill with your bird-spit?  
You have more legs and arms at home, which makes  
You valiant, I'll not pare my nails today,  
And yet I love my friend, as the best on you;  
You know I dare fight too, but in this cause  
You must needs pardon me, I believe the stoutest  
That now would seem all fire, and sword, will go  
With as ill will to hanging, as another,  
And will become't as scurvily, take your courses.  Sel. 
I think 'tis better:  Ha. 
O'th' two, to go to the Tavern, and be drunk  
In your own defence, a wench is not so dangerous  
Nor the Disease that waits upon her.  Acr. 
What if the gentleman that's hurt should die?  
Then there's no hope for tother.  Ha. 
Less for you,  
You would be guilty of his murder too,  
And snatch him from the Law, why you may do't:  
'tis pity but the government should thank you,  
And if you scape the halter for't, it may be  
Another man in time, may cut your throat,  
And there's one for another, paid in the blood.  
Come be yourselves, these are not acts of gentlemen,  
Where shame, not honour must reward your daring,  
Though we be wild, it follows not we should  
Be mad outright.  Lit. 
I was ever of his mind.  Acr. 
Come let's to Tavern.  Ha. 
I am for that coast, now I think upon't  
I'll meet you at the new rendezvous within  
This half-hour, I expect a gentleman  
That has engaged my promise; I'll come t'ee  
Ere you be half drunk.  Sel. 
Do not fail.  Ha. 
Drink Sack and think not on't, what should be  
The business that old Barnacle has desired  
My conference? 'tis not to lend me money sure,  
he's here.  Enter Master Barnacle. Bar. 
Master Hazard.  Ha. 
I was coming to you, sir.  Bar. 
I am fortunate to prevent so great a trouble,  
There is a business, sir, wherein I must desire your favour.  Ha. 
Mine? command it, sir.  Bar. 
Nay I'll be thankful too, I know you are  
A gentleman.  Ha. 
That should incline, you think  
I am not mercenary  Ba. 
I beseech you, sir,  
Mistake me not, rewards are due to virtues,  
And honour must be cherished.  Ha. 
What's your purpose?  
Pray clear my understanding.  Ba. 
To be plain, sir,  
You have a name i'th' Town for a brave fellow.  Ha. 
How, sir, you do not come to jeer me?  Ba. 
Patience, I mean you have the opinion  
Of a valiant gentleman, one that dares  
Fight and maintain your honour against odds,  
The swordmen do acknowledge you, the baylies  
Observe their distance, all the swaggering pusses  
Strike their topsails, I have heard 'em in the streets  
Say there goes daring Hazard, a man careless  
Of wounds, and though he have not had the luck  
To kill so many as another, dares  
Fight with all them that have.  Ha. 
You have heard this.  Ba. 
And more, and more, mistake not.  
I do not all this while account you in  
The list of those are called the blades, that roar  
In brothels, and break windows, fright the streets  
At midnight worse than Constables, and sometimes  
Set upon innocent bellmen, to beget  
Discourse for a week's diet, that swear, dams,  
To pay their debts, and march like walking armouries,  
With poniard, Pistol, Rapier, and baton,  
As they would murder all the king's liege people,  
And blow down streets; no I repute you valiant  
Indeed, and honoured, and come now without  
More ceremony, to desire your favour;  
Which as you are a gentleman, I hope,  
You'll not deny me.  Ha. 
Though your Language  
Be something strange, yet, because I think you dare not  
Intend me an abuse, I won't question it,  
Pray to the point, I do not think, you're come  
To have me be your second.  Bar 
I am no fighter,  
Though I have seen a fence-school in my Days,  
And cracked a Cudgel, yet I come about  
A fighting business.  Ha. 
You would have me beat somebody for you.  Bar. 
Not so noble Hazard, yet  
I come to entreat a valiant courtesy,  
Which I am willing to requite in money,  
I have brought gold to give you payment, sir,  
'tis a thing you may easily consent to,  
And 'twill oblige me ever.  Ha. 
Be particular.  Bar. 
Then thus you are not ignorant I have a Nephew, sir.  Ha. 
You have so.  Bar. 
One that's like  
To be my heir, the only of my name  
That's left, and one that may in time be made  
A pretty fellow.  Ha. 
Very well, proceed.  Ba. 
You know or you imagine, that I have.  
A pretty estate too.  Ha. 
Y'are held a main rich man, sir,  
In money able to weigh down an Alderman.  Ba. 
I have more than I shall spend; now I come close,  
I would have this Nephew of mine, converse with gentlemen,  Ha. 
And he does so.  Ba. 
I'll not pinch him in's allowance,  
The University had almost spoilt him.  Ha. 
With what?  Ba. 
With modesty a thing you know  
Not here in fashion, but that's almost cured,  
I would allow him to be drunk.  Ha. 
You may, sir.  Ba. 
Or any thing to speak him a fine gentleman,  Ha. 
With your favour, sir, let me be bold a little  
To interrupt you, were not you a Citizen?  Ba. 
'tis confessed, sir.  Ha. 
It being a thriving way  
A walk wherein you might direct your Nephew,  
Why d''ee not breed him so?  Ba. 
I apprehend;  
And thus I satisfy you, we that had  
Our breeding from a Trade, cits as you call us,  
Though we hate gentlemen ourselves, yet are  
Ambitious, to make all our children gentlemen,  
In three generations they return again,  
We for our children purchase Land, they brave it  
I'th' Country, begets children, and they sell,  
Grow poor, and send their sons up to be Prentices:  
There is a whirl in fate, the Courtiers make  
Us cuckolds; mark, we wriggle into their  
Estates, poverty makes their children Citizens;  
Our sons cuckold them, a circular justice,  
The World turns round, but once more to the purpose.  Ha. 
To your Nephew.  Ba. 
This Nephew of mine, I do love dearly;  
He is all my care, I would be loath to lose him,  
And to preserve him both in life, and honour:  
I come to you.  Ha. 
Now you come to me indeed, sir.  Bar. 
What shall I give you, sir, to let him—  Ha. 
What?  Bar. 
Pray be not angry.  Ha. 
By no means.  Bar. 
There is no such security i'th' World,  
I'll pay for't heartily.  Ha. 
For what?  Ba. 
What shall I give you troth, and let him.  Ha. 
What?  Bar. 
Beat you, sir?  Acr. 
How?  Ba. 
Nay do not, sir, mistake me, for although  
I name it, caursely I desire it should be  
With your consent, no otherwise; my Nephew  
Is raw, and wants opinion, and the talk  
Of such a thing, to beat a gentleman,  
That all the Towns afraid of, would be worth  
In's credit, heaven knows what, alas you cannot  
Blame a kind Uncle, to desire all means  
To get his Nephew fame, and keep him safe,  
And this were such a way.  Ha. 
To have me beaten.  Ba. 
Y'are i'th' right, but do not misconceive me,  
Under your favour, my intention is not  
He should much hurt you, if you please to let him  
Quarrel, or so at Tavern, or where else  
You shall think fit, and throw a pottle-pot—  Ha. 
At my head.  Ba. 
Yes, or say it be a quart, still under your correction,  
Only that some of your acquaintance and  
Gentlemen may take notice, that he dares  
Affront you, and come off with honour handsomely,  
Look her's a hundred pieces, tell, 'em i'th' Ordinary  
theyare weight upon my credit, play 'em not  
Against light gold, this is the Prologue to  
My thanks, beside my Nephew shall in private  
Acknowledge himself beholding.  Ha. 
A hundred pieces! I want money.  Bar. 
Right.  Ha. 
You give me this to let your Nephew beat me.  Bar. 
Pray take me w'ee, I do not mean he should  
By beating, hurt you dangerously, you may  
Contrive the quarrel, so that he may draw  
Some blood, or knock you, o'er the pate, and so forth,  
And come of bravely, this is all.  Ha. 
Well, sir,  
You do not mean, you say he should endanger  
My life or limbs; all you desire, if I  
Mistake not, is to get your Nephew credit,  
That being fleshed, he may walk securely, and be held  
Valiant by gaining honour upon me.  Bar. 
You understand me right.  Ha. 
I'll put it up,  
Pray send your Nephew to me, we'll agree.  Bar. 
Agree, sir? you must quarrel, and he must beat you, else, 'tis no bargain.  Ha. 
Not before  
We have concluded how things shall be carried.  Ba. 
I must desire your secrecy and—  Ha. 
here's my hand.  Bar. 
And there's my money.  Ha. 
Your Nephew shall be a blade.  Ba. 
Why there's ten pieces more, cause you come off  
So freely, I'll send him to you.  Ha. 
Do so, why this, if the Dice favour me may bring all  
My Lands again, be sure you send him, but  
No words for your nephew's credit.  Ba. 
Mum— I thank you heartily. Exit.  Ha. 
Be there such things i'th' World, I'll first to the Tavern,  
There I am stayed for, gentlemen I come,  
I'll be beat every day for such a sum. Eixt.   

Act. II.  Enter Mistress Wilding, and the Page. Mi. 
where's your Master, boy?  Pag. 
I know not Mistress.  Mi. 
Come nearer, sirrah, you are of your Master's  
Counsel sometimes, come, be true in what  
I shall desire, and I shall find a time, for your reward.  Pa. 
How d''ee mean Mistress?  
We Pages meet rewards of several natures,  
This great man gives us Gold, that Lady Gloves,  
Tother silk Stockings, Roses, Garters: but  
The Lady, and Mistress whom we serve in ordinary,  
Reserves another bounty, for our closeness.  Mi. 
I see you can be a wag, but be just to me, and secret.  Pa. 
As your Physician, or your looking-glass;  
That in your absence cannot be corrupted  
To betray your complexion.  Mi. 
What private mistresses, does Master Wilding visit?  Pa. 
Who my Master?  
Alas forsooth, d''ee think he lets me know?  Mi. 
Nay, nay dissemble not.  Pa. 
I hire a Coach  
Sometimes, or so, but ride always i'th' boot,  
I look at nobody but the passengers,  
I do not sit i'th' same box at Plays with him.  
I wait at Tavern, I confess, and so forth,  
And when he has supped, we must have time to eat too,  
And what should I trouble my conscience,  
With being too officious, till I am called for?  
'tis true, he waits upon the Ladies home,  
But 'tis so dark, I know not where they dwell,  
And the next day we have new ones, 'las mere strangers  
To me, and I should be unmannerly  
To Catechise 'em, if now, and then, there be  
Any superfluous cast waiting-woman,  
There be so many serving men about her,  
I cannot come to ask a question,  
And how should I know any thing?  Mi. 
I see you are old enough for vice.  Pa. 
Alas forsooth,  
You know 'tis ill to do a thing that's wicked,  
But 'twere a double sin to talk on't too,  
If I were guilty; beside forsooth, I know  
You would near trust me again, If I should tell you.  Mi. 
Thou art deceived, it shall endear thee more.  Pa. 
I must beseech you  
To be excused, my Master is my Master,  
My feet are at your service, not my tongue,  
I would not forfeit my recognizance,  
And shame the tribe, Pages, and Midwives are  
Sworn to be close.  Mi. 
Hence thou old in villainy,  
But 'tis in vain to chide, leave me, and bid  
Mistress Penelope come hither.  Pa. 
Yes forsooth.  Mi. 
I know not which way to begin, to me  
He has betrayed he loves her, she is present.  Enter Penelope. Pene. 
Will you be sad still cousin, why d''ee grieve?  
Be kinder to yourself, trust me, I weep  
When I am alone, for you.  Mi. 
Sorrow and I  
Are taking leave I hope, and these are only  
Some drops after the cloud has wept his violence:  
Were one thing finished, I should ne'er be sad more,  
And I cannot despair to know it done,  
Since the effect depends upon your love.  Pene. 
My love? 'tis justice you command my service,  
I would I were so happy.  Mi. 
Make me so,  
By your consent to my desire.  Pene. 
Pray name it.  Mi. 
I only ask your love, pray give it me.  Pene. 
My love? why do you mock my poor heart, which Pours all it has upon you? y'are possessed of that already.  Mi. 
You examine not  
The extent of my request, for when you have  
Given what I ask, your love, you must no more  
Direct it, as you please, the power's in me  
How to dispose it.  Pen. 
And you shall for ever,  
I have no passion that shall not know obedience to you.  Mi. 
Your love by gift  
Made mine, I give my husband you, love him.  Pene. 
I always did.  Mi. 
But in a nearer way:  
Love him as I do, with a resolution  
To give yourself to him, if he desire it.  Pene. 
I understand you not, or if you do  
Suspect I cherish any lawless fame—  Mi. 
Thou art to innocent; be less, and do  
An act to endear us both, I know he loves thee;  
Meet it, dear coz, 'tis all I beg of thee;  
I know you think it a most strange request,  
But it will make fortunate.  Pene. 
Grief I fear  
Hath made her wild, d''ee know what you desire?  Mi. 
Yes, that you love my husband: modesty  
Will not allow me to discourse my wish  
In every circumstance, but think how desperate  
My wound is, that would have so strange a cure,  
he'll love me then, and trust me I'll not study  
Revenge, as other wives perhaps would do,  
But thank thee, and indeed an act like this;  
So full of love, with so much loss and shame too,  
For mine and his sake, will deserve all duty,  Pene. 
I have no patience to hear more, and could  
I let in a thought, you meant this earnest,  
I should forget I knew you; but you cannot  
Be fall'n from so much goodness, I confess  
I have no confidence in your husband's virtue,  
He has attempted me; but shall hope sooner  
To leave a stain upon the sun, then bribe  
Me to so foul a guilt; I have no life  
Without my innocence, and you cannot make  
yourself more miserable, then to wish it from me:  
Oh, do not lose the merit of your faith,  
And truth to him, though he forget himself,  
By thinking to relieve yourself thus sinfully,  
But sure you do but try me all this while.  Mi. 
And I have found thee pure, be still preserved so,  
But he will straggle further—  Pene. 
Cherish hope,  
He rather will come back; your tears, and prayers  
Cannot be lost.  Mi. 
I charge thee by thy love,  
Yet be ruled by me; I'll not be so wicked  
To tempt thee in a thought shall blemish thee:  
But as thou wouldst desire my peace, and his  
Conversion, if his wantonness last with him,  
Appear more tractable, allow him so much  
Favour, in smile, or language, that he may not  
Think it impossible to prevail at last.  Pene. 
This may engage him further, and myself to a dishonour.  Mi. 
It shall work our happiness,  
As I will manage things; 'tis but to seem:  
A look will cost thee nothing, nor a syllable  
To make his hopes more pleasing, on my life  
Thou shalt be safe both in thy fame, and person,  
Will you do this for my sake?  Pene. 
I'll refuse no danger, if I suffer not in honour,  
To do you any service.  Mi. 
I have cast it  
Already, in my brain, but do not yet  
Inquire my purpose, as his folly leads  
Him to pursue you, let me know, and I'll  
By fair degrees acquaint you with my plot,  
Which built on no foul ends, is like to prosper,  
And see how aptly he presents himself,  
Prithee seem kind, and leave the rest to me.  
He shall not see me. Exit.  Enter Master Wilding. Wi. 
How now coz? was that  
My wife went off?  Pene. 
Yes, sir.  Wi. 
Let her go, what said she to thee?  Pene. 
Nothing.  Wi. 
Thou art troubled.  Pene. 
Pray to your knowledge, sir, wherein have I  
Done injury to you, or her?  Wi. 
Has she abused thee?  
I'll go kick her.  Pene. 
By no means, sir, I steal away your heart,  
And meet at stolen embraces.  Wi. 
Does she twit thee? I'll kick her like a football,  
Say but the word.  Pene. 
By no means think upon't, I have forgiven her,  
You sha'not sir, so much as frown upon her.  
Pray do not as you love me,  
we may study a more convenient revenge.  Wi. 
How's this?  
I prithee if she have been peremptory,  
Which was none of our articles, let me instruct thee,  
How we shall be revenged.  Pene. 
Sir, I acknowledge  
The growth and expectation of my fortune,  
Is in your love, and though I would not wrong her;  
And yet to have my innocence accused  
Is able to pervert it, sir, your pardon,  
I have been passionate; pray love your wife,  Wi. 
No, no, I'll love thee, indeed, indeed I will,  
Is she jealous?  Pene. 
You know she has no cause.  Wi. 
Let us be wise; and give her cause, shall's cozen,  Pene. 
Sir, if it be a trouble to your House,  
Your breath shall soon discharge me, I had thought  
The tie of blood might have gained some respect.  Wi. 
Discharge thee the house? I'll discharge her,  
And all her generation, thee excepted,  
And thou shalt do't thyself, by this, thou shalt;  
Ha, she kisses with more freedom, this is better,  
Than if my wife had pleaded for me, Pen,  
Thou shalt be mistress, wilt? come thou shalt,  
she's fit for drudgery.  Pene. 
Oh, do not say so.  Wi. 
Then I won't, but I love thee for thy spirit,  
'cause thou wilt be revenged, punish her jealousy  
The right way, when 'tis done, I do not care  
To tell her, it may kick up her heels too, another way.  Pene. 
Tell her what? you make me blush.  Wi. 
No, no, I'll tell nobody, by this hand.  
Stay I have a Diamond will become this finger,  
Wear it, and let my wife stare out her eyes upon't.  Pene. 
I won't take't on such conditions.  Wi. 
Take it on any; she is come about.  Enter Page. Pa. 
Sir Master Hazard desires your company at Tavern, he says there are none but gentlemen of your acquaintance, Master Acre-less, Master littlestock, and Master Sell-away, the three Gamesters.  Wi. 
He must excuse me.  Pene. 
As you love me, go, sir.  
Have no suspicion that I wish your absence,  
I'll wear your gift, and study to be thankful. Exit.  Wi. 
Well, there's no great hurt in all this yet;  
The Tides not strong against me, no talk now,  
Of wife's consent, I'll not remove my siege,  
she'll study to be thankful, she's mine own,  
As sure as I were in her maidenhead,  
Now to the Tavern boy, and drink to the purpose. Exeunt.  Enter Hazard, Acre-less Little-stocke, Sell-away, as in a Tavern. Drawers. Ha. 
More wine, is not this better gentlemen,  
Then spitting Constables? you would have fought now,  
And had your brain-pans opened  Acr. 
Right noble Hazard,  
here's to thee.  Ha. 
Let come boy, fill it me steeple-high,  
I am in vain of mirth, and I ha' cause  
As you shall see in due time gentlemen.  
Master Little stock thou art dreaming o'th' Dice.  Sel. 
he's melancholy.  Lit. 
Who I!  Ha. 
I'll play the farrier then, and drench thee for the sullens: a health to all our Mistresses, we have had 'em single, let's shuffle 'em now together.  
Master Acre-less.  Enter Fiddler. Fi. 
willt please you Gentlemen to have a Song.  Ha. 
You have not washed today, go get clean manners;  
You rascal we have no wenches.  Fi. 
I see nobody, sir, you have washed my eyes out.  Ha. 
It is not necessary thou shouldst have any:  
Fill me again.  Acr, 
This fellow would ha' tother Cup.  Fi. 
I have had a Cup too much already gentlemen. Exit.  Ha. 
Let it go round, and then in hope you may  
Look double, I'll show you a sight, I wonder  
Jack wilding Stays.  Enter Master Wilding, and Page. 
he's come i'th' nick.  Wi. 
Save, save you gallants, may a man come i'th' rear?  Ha. 
Give him his garnish.  Wi. 
Y'are not Prisoners for the reckoning, I hope.  Ha. 
For the reckoning? now y'are altogether gentlemen,  
I'll show you a wonder; but come not too near,  
Keep out o'th' Circle, whatsoever you think on't,  
This is a hundred pound, nay, not so close,  
These pictures do show best at distance, gentlemen.  
You see it, presto—  Wi. 
Nay let's see't again.  Ha. 
Like to your cunning juggler, I ne'er show  
My trick but once you may hear more hereafter,  
What think you of this Master Acre-less, Master littlestock,  
And Master Sell-away?  Acr. 
We do not believe 'tis gold,  Ha. 
Perish then  
In your infidelity.  Wi. 
Let me but touch it.  Ha. 
It will endure, take my word for't, why look you,  
For your satisfactions, no Gloves off,  
You have devices to defalk, preserve  
Your talons, and your talents, till you meet  
With more convenient Gamesters.  Lit. 
How cam'st by it?  Wi. 
thou'dst'dst little or none this morning.  Ha. 
I have bought it gentlemen, and you in a mist  
Shall see what I paid for it, thou hast not drunk yet:  
ne'er fear the reckoning man, more wine, you varlets,  
And call your Mistress, your Scolopendia  
If we like her complexion, we may dine here.  Wi. 
But hark thee, hark thee Will, didst win it?  Ha. 
No, but I may lose it ere I go to bed,  
Dost think't shall musty, what's a hundred pound?  Sel, 
A miracle, but they are ceased with me.  Acr. 
And me too, come let's drink.  Wi. 
No matter, how it came Will, I congratulate  
Thy fortune, and will quit thee now  
With good news of myself, my coz I told thee on,  
Is wheeled about, she has took a Ring o'me,  
We kissed, and talked, time out a mind.  Ha. 
I know it,  
My Almanac says 'tis a good day to woo in,  
Confirmed by Erra Pater, that honest Jew too,  
I'll pledge thee.  Enter Drawer. Dr. 
Master Hazard there are two gentlemen below,  
Inquire for you.  Ha. 
For me?  Da. 
One's somewhat ancient, I heard him call  
The other Nephew.  Ha. 
Say I come to 'em presently,  
Gentlemen, I do caution you before  
To be fair conditioned: one of them, the Nephew  
Is of a fiery constitution,  
And sensible of any affront, let this  
Character prepare him for you.  Wi. 
Bring him not hither.  Ha. 
There is a necessity in't, I would not for  
A hundred pound but entertain him, now  
He knows I am here. Exit.  Enter Master Hazard again, with Barnacle, his Nephew, and Dwindle. Wi. 
This is old Barnacle.  Acr. 
One that is too fine for Alderman.  Lit. 
And that's his Nephew, I have been in's company,  Sel. 
Is this the youth Hazard prepared us for?  
How busy they are?  Ha. 
You could not wish better opportunity,  
These are all gentlemen of quality,  
I'll call him cozen first, if it please you,  
To endear him to their acquaintance.  Bar. 
I'll not be a witness of your passages myself; these will report as much as I desire, sir, if you be beaten I am satisfied.  Ne. 
But d''ee hear Uncle, are sure you have made  
Your bargain wisely; they may cut my throat  
When you are gone, and what are you the wiser,  
Dwindle be you close to me.  Ha. 
I warrant you we shall do things with discretion,  
If he have but grace, to look and talk courageously.  Bar. 
He may be valiant for aught I know,  
Howsoever this will be a secure way  
To have him thought so, if he beat you soundly.  Ne. 
I do not like the company;  
But I have drunk wine too, and that's the best on't,  
We may quarrel on even Terms, look to  
Thy basket-hilt Dwindle, and have a stool ready;  Dw. 
I will give your worship a stool.  Ha. 
As I am gentleman, be confident  
I'll wait on you down, sir.  Bar. 
By no means, let him beat you to purpose, sir.  Ne. 
Buy Uncle. Exit.  Ha. 
Come, sir, pray gentlemen, bid my kinsman welcome: a spark that will deserve your knowledge.  Wi. 
His kinsman? you are welcome.  Acr. 
He has power to command your welcome.  Lit. 
If I mistake not, I have had the happiness  
To ha' been in your company afore now.  Ne. 
Mine, sir? d''ee hear, what if I quarrelled  
With him first? 'twill prepare me the better.  Ha. 
Do as you please; that's without my conditions.  Ne. 
I'll but give him now and then a touch, I'll close  
Well enough I warrant you, you been in my  
Company, sir?  Lit. 
Yes, and at the Tavern.  Ne. 
I paid the reckoning then.  Lit. 
You came into our room—  Ne. 
Tell me of coming into your room,  
I'll come again, you are a superfluous gentleman,  Wil. 
How's this?  Ha. 
Let him alone.  Lit. 
Sir, remember yourself.  Ne. 
I'll remember what I please, I'll forget what  
I remember: tell me of a reckoning, what is't?  
I'll pay't, no man shall make an ass of me,  
Further than I list myself, I care not a fiddle-  
Stick for any man's thundering, he that affronts  
Me, is the son of a Worm, and his father a  
Whore, I care not a straw, nor a broken point  
For you, if any man dare drink to me; I  
won't go behind the door to pledge him.  Acr. 
Why her's to you, sir,  Ne. 
Why there's to you, sir.  
Twit me with coming into a Room, I could— find in my heart, to throw a Pottle-pot, I name nobody, I will kick any man down Stairs, that cannot behave himself like a gentleman, none but a slave would offer to pay a reckoning before me, where's the Drawer? there's a piece at all adventures; he that is my friend, I cars not a rush, if any man be my enemy, he is an idle companion, and I honour him with all my heart.  Wi. 
This is a precious humour, is he used to these mistakes?  Lit. 
Your kinsman gives him privilege.  Ne. 
I desire no man's privilege, it skills not whether I be kin to any man living.  Ha. 
Nay, nay, cozen, pray let me persuade you.  Ne. 
You persuade me? for what acquaintance, mind your business and speak with your Tailor.  Ha. 
And you be thus rude—  Ne. 
Rude, sir, what then, sir, hold me Dwindle.  Dw. 
Are you ready to have a stool, sir?  Wi. 
Nay, nay, Will, we bear with him for your sake,  
He is your kinsman.  Ha. 
I am calm again,  
cousin, I am sorry any person here  
Hath given you offence.  Ne. 
Perhaps, sir, you  
Have given me offence, I do not fear you,  
I have knocked as round a fellow in my days.  Ha. 
And may again—  Wi. 
Be knocked, a pox upon him, I know not what to make on him.  Ha. 
Let me speak a word in private, sir.  Ne. 
I can be as private as you, sir.  Ha. 
Strike me a box o'th' ear presently.  Ne. 
there's my hand on't.  Wi. 
Nay, nay, gentlemen.  Acr. 
Master Wilding.  Ne. 
Let him call me to account, the reckonings paid.  
Come Dwindle. Exit.  Sel. 
I did not think the fool durst ha' done this,  
'tis a strange youth.  Ha. 
You shall hear more tomorrow.  Dr. 
All's paid, and you are welcome gentlemen. Exeunt.  Enter Leonara, Violante. Leo. 
Why should not we two live together, being  
So equal in our passions? oh Violante,  
Our knowledge grew from children, and our love's  
Ally us in our natures.  Vio. 
'tis my wish  
To dwell with thee, I never knew that woman  
In whom I took more pleasure to converse with,  Leo. 
But I have a father, and remembering him  
A sorrow steals upon me, to betray  
My hopes of blessing; for although he love me,  
And dear as he says, for Children must not  
Dispute with fathers, he affects not him  
In whom I place all thoughts that can delight me,  
He loves not Delamore, and what to me  
Is all the World without him? I shall never  
I fear, have his consent to be made happy  
In marriage, and this, although our thoughts  
Reflect with equal honour on our lovers,  
Makes the distinction, and concludes me miserable,  
Thy will depends upon no rigid parent,  
Thy path is strewed with Roses, while I climb  
A ragged cliff, to meet whom I affect.  Vio. 
Indeed, Leonara I much pity thee.  Leo, 
I prithee counsel me how shall I wrestle  
With my sad destiny, and yet preserve  
My filial obedience, I must lose  
A father, or a husband.  Vio. 
Would I knew  
Which way to bid thee steer, but lessoned by  
My own affection, I would have thy mind  
Constant to him thou lov'st, time may correct  
A father's harshness, and be confident  
If poor Violante have a power to serve thee,  
She will forget her own heart, ere prove false to thee.  Leo. 
Oh my dear soul, I know't.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Oh mistress.  Leo. 
What's the matter!  Vio. 
This face betrays some miserable accident.  Leo. 
Speak, and assure us, what disaster makes  
Thy countenance so wild.  Ser. 
A friend of yours—  Leo. 
Is sick, is dead, what more? and yet I have  
So few, I can spare none.  Ser. 
Is dead, since you appear so fortified.  Leo. 
Is my father living, and Delamore?  Ser. 
Your father is in health, but—  Leo. 
Stay, as thou wouldst preserve thy mistress in  
The number of the living.  Vio. 
How my fears increase!  Leo. 
Except Violante, whom I see  
Enjoys her health, I have no friend but Delamore,  
I hope he is not dead.  Ser. 
Your Delamore is dead. she faints.  Vi. 
Friend, Leonora,  
'Twas indiscreetly done to open sorrow  
So like a torrent, Leonora; friend.  Leo. 
Why dost thou call me from him? sure I was  
Going to meet my Delamore.  Vi. 
Give not such  
Belief to these sad news, until you hear it  
Confirmed, dist see him dead?  Ser. 
I did not see him.  Vi. 
Have comfort then, this may  
be checked again.  Leo. 
Would I could hope it.  Vio. 
Have more courage friend,  
Didst hear the circumstance?  Ser. 
He was slain they say.  Vio. 
Nay then believe it not, he was so innocent,  
He could provoke no angry sword against him.  Ser. 
I wish your confidence were not deceived,  
The last part of my story will concern  
Your faith, and sorrow.  Vio. 
Mine? in her I share  
Too much, but prithee since thou hast not been  
Slow to wound her, let me know my affliction.  Ser. 
The general voice is, Master Beaumont slew him,  
Your servant Lady.  Vio. 
Tell the general voice  
It lies, my Beaumont prove a murderer?  
And of his friend? he would not kill an enemy.  Ser. 
All I can say in proof of this, I saw him  
Guarded to Prison, pardon my relation.  Vio. 
If thou believest thy eyes abused thee not,  
Thou might'st with one breath spoken 'em both dead,  
For the survivor lives, but to give up  
His life with more shame, all my comfort is,  
I shall not live to see it, oh Leonora,  
Who is most wretched now? let thou, and I,  
The few days that we have to live, be friends,  
And die in perfect charity, I must leave you  
To manage your own grief, I have enough  
To break my poor heart too. Exit.  Leo. 
What Seas thou  
Upon us? I that could have died within  
A gentle wave, now struggle for my life,  
My father?  Enter Sr. Richard Hurry. Hu. 
What, it seems you heard the news,  
Come let your sorrows dry up, you may see  
What 'tis to be so rash, when you choose next,  
You'll consult me, I hope; wipe, wipe your eyes,  
Your tears are vain, I could say more.  Leo. 
What sir?  Hu. 
They are more than he deserved, and yet 'tis better  
Thou shouldst bestow thy tears upon his Funeral,  
Than I sighed at thy marriage; come, Heaven has  
Been kind in this divorce, preparing thus  
Thy better fortune, and preserving mine,  
I am sorry for the gentleman that killed him.  Leo. 
Oh Murderer.  Hu. 
You are a fool, and know not  
His provocation: in my youthful days,  
I was not patient when affronts were offered me,  
Nothing more dear to gentlemen, than honour.  Leo. 
Honour in murder?  Hu. 
This was otherwise:  
In my own defence I would kill a family,  
He showed his generous spirit, all the town  
Speaks nobly of him, pity him, and pray for him,  
And were he not desertful, by this time  
The general vote had hanged him.  Leo. 
Oh, my fate!  Hu. 
Tother a loose, and inconsiderate man,  
Lost in estate, and would ha' married thee,  
To ha' squeezed mine, 'tis better as it is.  Leo. 
Good sir, be charitable to the dead.  Hu. 
Be you first charitable to the living.  
Speak well, and think so too, you do not know  
What benefit may follow, and howe'er  
Your womanish sorrow for the present may  
So mist your eyes, they will hereafter open,  
To see, and thank my care.  Leo. 
Indeed your language,  
Pardon my boldness, sir, is dark and mystical.  Hu. 
You have your wit to apprehend sometimes,  
But 'tis not passion must excuse your duty to me.  Leo. 
I hope.  Hu. 
Your hopes may fail you if you do,  
Be obedient hereafter, if you please,  
And love my directions  Leo. 
I'll not have  
A thought shall disobey you, and if ever  
I love again.  Hu. 
If ever? why suppose  
I should propound one to you, now i'th' heat  
Of this misfortune, can your heart be obstinate  
To me, and your own good?  Leo. 
This is too soon  
A conscience, sir, before his blood be cold,  
To whom I professed love, to like another?  
The World would much condemn me.  Hu. 
Is the World  
Or I to be preferred, this makes the act  
Of your obedience perfect, and because  
I'll have assurance of what power I hold,  
This minute I'll prefer one to your thoughts,  
Dispose your heart to love the gentleman  
That now's in Prison.  Leo. 
Whom d''ee mean dear sir?  Hu. 
He that killed Delamore, Master Beaumont:  
Do not suspect I trifle, he is of  
A noble house, of a fair expectation,  
Handsome in every part.  Leo. 
Shall not he suffer  
For the black deed already done?  Hu. 
Compose  
yourself to love him, I'll find a way how to  
Secure his life, and bring him freely off.  Leo. 
Oh! consider ere you move to far;  
If having slain my comfort, for I must  
Give it no other name, call not your justice  
To my revenge, yet let me not be forced,  
To have a thought so full of shame to women,  
That he should be my husband, 'tis a stain  
Time nor repentance can wash off, I know  
You cannot mean so cruelly, beside  
I shall commit a sin, foul as his murder,  
Upon poor Violante, and rob her:  
Their heart's love hath sealed up i'th' eye of Heaven,  
'Twere sacrilege to part 'em, she's my friend too,  
One that will rather die than injure me.  
And he will rather suffer, if he be  
Noble as you profess him, then consent to  
So foul a guilt.  Hu. 
Let me alone for that,  
If he refuse this offer for his life,  
Why let him die, I'll put him to't, consider,  
In this I shall behold thy naked soul,  
Be ruled, and prosper; disobey, and be  
Thrown from my care and blood, at better leisure  
I'll tell you more. Exit.  Leo. 
Has Heaven no pity for me?  
What killing language doth a father speak?  
Poor heart prevent more grief, and quickly break. Exit.   

Act. III.  Enter Master Wilding, and Penelope. Wi. 
This humour does become thee, I knew when  
Thou didst consider, what was offered thee;  
Thy sullenness wood shake off, now thou look'st  
Fresher than morning, in thy melancholy  
Thy clothes became thee not.  Pene. 
Y'are i'th' right,  
I blamed my Tailor for't, but I find now,  
The fault was in my countenance, would we had  
Some Music, I could dance now, la, la, la, bram, etc.,  Wi. 
Excellent! and she be a-bed but half so nimble,  
I shall have a fine time on't; how she glides?  
Thou wot not fail?  Pen. 
This night—  Wi. 
At the hour of twelve.  Pene. 
But you must be as punctual i'th' conditions  
For my vow's sake, not speak a syllable.  Wi. 
I'll rather cut my tongue out then offend thee,  
Kissing is no language.  Pene. 
If it be not too loud;  
We must not be seen together, to avoid  
Suspicion, I would not for a world my cousin  
Should know on't.  Wi. 
She shall die in ignorance.  Pene. 
No piece of a Candle.  Wi. 
The Devil shall not see us  
With his saucer eyes; and if he stumble in  
The dark, there sha'not be a stone i'th' Chamber,  
To strike out fire with's horns; all things shall be  
So close; no lightning shall peep in upon us,  
Oh, how I long for midnight!  Pene. 
I have a scruple.  Wi. 
Oh, by no means, no scruples now.  Pene. 
When you  
Have your desires upon me, you will soon  
Grow cold in your affection, and neglect me.  Wi. 
Why hang me if I do, I'll love thee ever:  
I have cast already, to preserve thy honour,  
Thou shalt be married in a fortnight, coz,  
Let me alone to find thee out a husband,  
Handsome and fit enough, we will love then too.  Pene. 
When I am married?  Wi. 
Without fear or wit  
Cum privilegio, when thou hast a husband,  
Dost think I will forsake thee Pen? 'twere pity  
o' my life, sweet, oh there is no pleasure  
To those embraces; I shall love thee better,  
And the assurance that thou hast two fathers  
Before thou hast a child, will make thee spring  
More active in my arms, and I tell thee,  
'tis my ambition to make a Cuckold,  
The only pleasure o'th' World: I would not  
Wish to enjoy thee now, but in the hope  
Of other harvest, and to make thy husband  
Hereafter cuckold, that imagination  
Sweetness the rest, and I do love it mainly, mainly.  Pene. 
'tis double sin.  Wi. 
'tis treble pleasure wench;  
But we lose time, and may endanger thus  
My wife into a jealousy, if she see us,  
Farewell, farewell dear Pen. at night remember,  
I won't lose my sport for half the country. Exit.  Enter Mistress Wilding. Mi. Wi. 
Thou hast hit my instructions excellently.  Pene. 
I have made work for somebody, you have put me  
Upon a desperate service, if you do not  
Relieve me, I am finely served.  Mi. 
All has succeeded to my wish, thy place  
I will supply tonight, if he observe  
All the conditions, I may deceive  
My husband into kindness; and we both  
Live to reward thee better, oh, dear coz!  
Take heed by my example, upon whom  
Thou placest thy affection.  Enter Hazard. Pene. 
Master Hazard.  Ha 
Save mistress Wilding.  Mi. Wi. 
You are welcome, sir.  Pene. 
He is a handsome gentleman.  Ha. 
Gone abroad?  Mi. 
I am not certain, I'll inquire.  Ha. 
Your servant  
Ha! this is the frosty gentlewoman, in good time,  
I care not if I cast away some words on her,  
And yet she's so precise, and over honest,  
I had as good ne'er attempt her, your name is  
Penelope, I take it Lady.  Pene. 
If you take it,  
I hope you'll give it me again.  Ha. 
What again?  Pene. 
My name.  Ha. 
What should I do wot?  
No, no, keep thy name,  
howe'er thou dost thy maidenhead.  Pene. 
Can you tell me  
Of any honest man that I may trust with it?  Ha. 
I'll tell thee a hundred.  Pene. 
Take heed what you say, sir.  
A hundred honest men, why if there were  
So many i'th' City, 'twere enough to forfeit  
Their Charter; but perhaps you live in the Suburbs.  Ha. 
This wench will jeer me.  Pene. 
I hope you are not one, sir.  Ha, 
One of what?  Pene. 
One of those honest men you talked of so,  
One to whose trust, a Virgin might commit  
A maidenhead, as you call it.  Ha. 
Yes, you may trust me,  
I have possessed a hundred maidenheads.  Pene. 
How long?  Ha. 
Nay, nay; they are no commodities to keep,  
No fault of ours: truth is, theyare not worth  
Preserving, some of your own Sex acknowledge it,  
And yet by your complexion, you have yours still,  
Away with't, and in time.  Pene. 
Why you are modest.  Ha. 
gave hit me Lady: come, I'll give thee counsel;  
And more, I'll help thee to a chapman too,  
Besides whate'er he pays for't, shall be at charge  
To mould it of himself; how light thou'lt be  
Without thy maidenhead, dost not spoil thy sleep  
And breed the nightmare?  Pene. 
Who can help it, you  
Gentlemen are such strange creatures, so unnatural,  
So infinitely chaste, so mortified  
With Beef and Barleywater, such strange discipline,  
And Haircloth.  Ha. 
Who wears Haircloth? gentlewoman?  Pene. 
Such severe ways to tame your flesh, such friends  
To fridays, Lent, and Ember-weeks; such enemies  
To Sack, and marrow-Pies, Candles, and Crabs,  
Fiddlers, and other warm restoratives,  
A handsome woman can not reach your pity,  
We may e'en grow to our Pillows, ere you'll comfort us; this was not wont.  Ha. 
Not wont to be, in my  
Remembrance Lady.  Pene. 
You are a handsome gentleman  
Why may not you drink Wine sometimes, or eat  
Sturgeon, or forage in your lusty-pie  
Of artichoke, or Potato; or why may not  
Your learned Physician Dictate ambergris,  
Or Powders, and you obey him, in your Broths?  
Have you so strange antipathy to women?  
To what end will gentlemen  
Come to, if this frost hold?  Ha. 
You are witty;  
But I suppose you have no cause of such  
Complaint, however some men do want heat,  
Their is no general winter; I know a gentleman  
Can drink, and eat, and bear you company  
a-bed, for all your jeering: do not think  
'tis I: thou shall recant this profane talk  
And woo me for a kiss, ere I'll stoop to thee.  
Here's none but friends, if Master wilding ha' not  
Told you already, I will justify  
'tis possible, you may be got with Child.  Pene. 
By whom?  Ha. 
By him, you are but cousins afar off,  
If you allow't, he need not travel far  
For other dispensation, what say to him?  Pene. 
Was this at his entreaty?  Ha. 
My own mere motion  
And good will toward him, cause I know his mind.  Pene. 
You are a fine gentleman, where's your land?  
You may be Knight o'th' Shire in time: farewell, sir.  Ha. 
I know not what to make on her, she may be Exit.  
A tumbler, for all this, I'll to her again. Exit.  Enter old Barnacle, and Leonora. Ba. 
Nay, nay, be comforted, and mistake me not,  
I did not mention Delamore to provoke  
These tears: he's gone, think on your living friends.  Leo. 
If you be one, good sir—  Ba. 
Yes, I am one:  
And yet mistake me not, I do not come  
a-wooing for myself, I am past Tilting,  
But for my Nephew, oh that Nephew of mine!  
I know Sr. Richard Hurry, you wise father,  
Will think well of him,  
Nay, nay, weeping still.  Leo. 
It is too soon to think of any other.  Bar. 
To soon to think of any other, why,  
What woman of discretion, but is furnished  
With a second husband ere the first be coffined?  
He that stays till the Funeral be past,  
Is held a modest coxcomb, and why should not  
maids' be as early in their provision?  Leo. 
I blush to think, my father of his mind,  
Distressed Leonora good. sir lose  
No more breath, I am resolved to die a Virgin  
I know not what love is.  
And yet these tears  
Are shed for one you loved.  Leo. 
He that was all  
My treasure living, being lost must needs  
Be a great part of sorrow: but my eyes  
Though they can never pay to many drops  
To the sad memory of Delamore,  
Shed not all these for him, there is another  
That makes me weep.  Bar. 
Another whom you love?  Leo. 
Heaven knows I never let into my heart,  
Affection to a second, I am so far  
From loving him, I wish we may ne'er meet,  
I am not safe in my own bosom, while  
I think upon him, it begets new springs  
Within my eyes; which will in little time,  
Rise to a flood, and drown me.  Bar. 
I conceive  
This is no friend of yours, come I'll relieve you,  
Nay, and there be any man that troubles you,  
If there be any you'd have talked withal,  
I'll rid you of that care, he that shall offer  
But to disturb you in a thought, d''ee mark me?  
I'll take an order with him.  Leo. 
What will you do?  Bar. 
Do not mistake me neither, I'll do nothing,  
But send my Nephew, he shall top him,  
And top him, and scourge him like a top too.  
You know not how my Nephew is improved  
Since you last saw him, valiant as Hercules,  
He has knocked the flower of Chivalry, the very  
Donzal deal Phebo of the time. and all  
The blades do reverence him; I'll say no more,  
Name but the man whom you do frown upon,  
And let me send my Nephew to him.  Leo. 
sha'not need.  
I have no enemy to engage his sword,  
My discontents flow from a nearer person,  
I grieve to say my father.  Bar. 
How? your father  
Say but the word and I will send my Nephew  
To him, and he were ten fathers he can mollify him,  
To please you Lady, my Nephew never spare him,  
Oh, had you seen him baffle a squire this morning!  Leo. 
Pray no more, you shall do me a noble office.  
To leave me to myself.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Mistress Violante  
Is come to visit you.  Leo. 
I wait upon her,  
Your gentle pardon. Exit.  Ba. 
Would my Nephew had her.  
she is S. Richard's heir, and here he is.  
S. Richard?  Enter S. Richard Hurry, and Surgeon. Hu. 
Oh Master Barnacle, I'll wait upon you.  Bar. 
That's Master Probe the Surgeon.  Hu. 
No more you know my meaning.  Pr. 
Yes, sir.  Hu. 
Let him be buried.  Pr. 
I understand you, sir. Exit.  Bar. 
I have been discoursing  
With your fair daughter.  Hu. 
Where is Leonora?  Ser. 
she's within, sir.  Hu. 
Bid her come hither,  
Master Barnacle I am something troubled about a gentleman.  Bar. 
And I am glad I met with you:  
If you be troubled with any gentleman,  
I'll send my Nephew to him.  Hu. 
To whom, or whither?  Bar. 
To any man alive, I care not whether.  Hu. 
Send him to Jerusalem.  Bar. 
That's something o'th' furthest, I shall be  
Unwilling he should travel out o'th' Kingdom.  Enter Leonora, Violante aloof. Hu. 
Leonera? nearer—  Ba. 
Who is that?  
A pretty gentlewoman! save you mistress,  
What is your name I pray?  Vio. 
I am called Violante.  Bar. 
Are you a maid?  Vio. 
I should be sorry else.  Bar. 
D''ee know my Nephew?  Vio. 
Not I, sir.  Bar. 
Not my Nephew? how have you been bred?  
Why he's the only gallant o'th' Town,  
Please you I'll send him to you.  Vio. 
What to do, sir.  Ba. 
He shall do any thing, the towns afraid on him.  Vio. 
Oh! pray keep him from me then.  Bar. 
he'll hurt no women, but for the men—  Vio. 
there's one has hurt too much already.  Bar. 
What is he? I'll send my Nephew to him Lady,  
If you have any occasion, never spare him.  Vio. 
Not I, sir.  Hu. 
Look to't, and correct this humour.  
I'll to him presently, Master Barnacle,  
Let me entreat your company to a gentleman,  
I'll wait as much on you.  Bar. 
You shall command me:  
If't be to any man you care not for,  
we'll take my Nephew along. Exeunt  Hu. 
It sha' not need,  Leo. 
Oh Violante! I  
Must now require some fruit of all thy promises.  Vio. 
You hold me not suspected.  Leo. 
Leonora  
Cannot be so ingrateful: but we have  
Small limit for discourse, my father means  
To visit Beaumont, now in Prison, thou  
Wilt hear too soon the story, and without  
Prevention find thyself more miserable.  
Oh Violante: I will suffer with him  
Rather than injure thee, I prithee go  
visit thy friend, not mine, and as thou lov'st me,  
As thou lov'st him, or thy own life, Violante,  
Bid him be constant to thee, tell him what fame  
Dwells upon noble lovers, that have sealed  
Faith to their Mistresses in blood: what glory  
Can perjured men expect, that lose their honour  
To save a poor breath? bid him be assured,  
If for the hope of life, his soul can be  
So much corrupted to embrace a thought  
That I shall ever love him—  Vio. 
You Leonora?  Leo. 
Never, oh, never; tell him so: by virtue,  
And the cold blood of my slain Delamore,  
Although my father threaten death.  Vio. 
Your father?  Leo. 
Make hast sweet Violante, to the Prison;  
There thou shalt know all, there thou shalt have proof  
How much thou art beloved, and by my death,  
If he prove false to thee, how much I love thee. Exit.  Vio. 
I am amazed, and my soul much distracted  
Twixt grief, and wonder, it grows late i'th' morning,  
I le visit the sad Prisoner, my heart trembles,  
More can but kill me too, I'm, fit to die,  
And woes but hasten immortality. Exit.  Enter Hazard, and a Box-keeper. Ha. 
How now? what Gamesters?  Bo. 
Little to any purpose yet, but we  
Expect deep play tonight.  Enter Wilding. Wi. 
Will Hazard, I have been seeking thee this  
Two hours, and now I have found thee, avoid me.  Ha. 
thou'rt not infectious.  Wi. 
No, but I swell with my imaginations  
Like a tall Ship, bound for the fortunate Lands;  
Top, and Top-gallant, my flags, and my fegaries  
Upon me with a lusty gale of wind  
Able to rend my sails, I shall o'errun,  
And sink thy little Bark of understanding  
In my career boy.  Ha. 
Pray heaven rather  
You do not spring a leak, and forfeit your  
Ballast, my confident man of War, I  
Have known as stout a Ship been cast away  
In sight o'th' Harbour.  Wi. 
The wench, the wench boy.  Ha. 
The Vessel you have been chasing.  Wi. 
Has struck Sail,  
Is come in, and cries aboard my new Lord of  
The Mediterranean, we are agreed,  
This is the precious night Will; twelve the hour;  
That I must take possession of all,  
Of all; there are some Articles agreed on.  Enter a Lord, and Sell-away. 
who's this?  Ha. 
Oh! the Gamesters now come in:  
That gay man is a Lord, and with him Sell-away.  Wi. 
They are well coupled, a Lord and Sell-away.  Ha. 
He wears good clothes you see, and in the street  
More looked at then the Pageants, he will talk little.  Wi. 
To purpose.  Ha. 
Right, he cannot walk  
Out of his cinquepace, and no man carries  
Legs more in tune, he is danced now from his sempstress.  Wi. 
A man much bound to his Tailor.  Ha. 
And his Barber.  
He has a notable head.  Wi. 
Of hair thou mean'st.  Ha. 
Which is sometime hung in more Bride-laces  
Than well would furnish out two Country weddings  Wi. 
Is he a Scholar?  Ha. 
'tis not necessary.  
He is neither Scholar, nor a Courtier,  
If report wrong him not.  Wi. 
Will. He plays money freely.  Ha. 
With more pride than he wears embroidery.  
'tis his ambition to lose that: and  
A wench maintains his swearing, let him pass.  Wi. 
What's next.  Enter a Knight, and Acre-less. Ha. 
A Knight, and Acre-less.  Wi. 
Good again, a Knight and Acre-less, what's his condition.  Wi. 
A Gamester both ways.  Wi. 
Where be his Spurs?  Ha. 
Hang in his mistress's Petticoat, for which he pawned  
His Knighthood too, till a good hand redeem it,  
He will talk you nothing but postilion's  
Embroideries for his Coach, and Flanders Mares:  
What several suits for the twelve days at Christmas,  
How many Ladies dote upon his physiognomy:  
That he is limited but a hundred pound  
A month for diet, which will scarce maintain him  
In Pheasant eggs an Turkey for his motion.  
Now does his Barge attend him, if he came  
By water, but if the Dice chance to run counter,  
He stays till twelve in anger, devours smoke,  
And desperately will shoot the Bridge at midnight  
Without a waterman.  Wi. 
The house fills apace  
What are these ha?  Enter a Country gentleman, and Little-stocke. Ha. 
A Country gentleman, and littlestock.  Wi. 
A Country gentleman? I have seen him sure  
Appear in other shape, is he a Christian?  Ha. 
Why? dost thou doubt him?  Wi. 
'cause I have met him with a turban once,  
If I mistake not, but his linen was not  
So handsome altogether as the Turks  
In cuerpo with a Crabtree cudgel too,  
Walking and canting broken Dutch for farthings.  Ha. 
The apparition of an Angel once  
Brought him to this.  Wi. 
Dost call him country gentleman?  Ha. 
His generation is not known i'th' Town,  
You see what Dice can do, now he's admired.  Wi. 
For what I prithee?  Ha. 
For talking nonsense, when he has lost his money  
You shall meet him going up and down the ordinary  
To borrow money upon his head.  Wi. 
His head,  
Will he go upon his head, or will he pawn it?  Ha. 
Pawn it, if any man will lend him money on't,  
And says 'tis good security, because  
He cannot be long without it, they shall have  
The wit for the use too, he will talk desperately,  
And swear he is the father of all the Bulls  
Since Adam, if all fail he has a project  
To print his jests.  Wi. 
His Bulls you mean,  Ha. 
Y'are right,  
And dedicate 'em to the Gamesters, yet he will  
Seem wise sometimes, deliver his opinions  
As on the Bench: in beer he utters sentences,  
And after Sack Philosophy.  Wi. 
Let's not be troubled with him, who are these?  
Young Barnacle?  Enter Nephew, and Dwindle. 
Will you endure him.  Ha. 
Yes, and the Vinegar-bottle his man too: but now I think on't he shall excuse me, I'll lose no time; if I win, I shall have less cause to repent, if I lose, by these hilts I'll make him the cause and beat him.  Enter Sell-away. 
Are they at play?  Sel, 
Deep, deep Gamesters.  Ha. 
Then luke with a hundred pieces.  Wi. 
I'll follow, how now Frank? what in the name of folly is he reading?  Ne. 
Save you gentlemen, save you noble gallants:  
May a man lose any money? I honour, sir, your shadow.  Sel. 
This is another humour.  Ne. 
D''ee here the news gentlemen?  Wi. 
What news I pray?  Ne. 
The new coranto.  Sel. 
Good, sir, impart.  Ne. 
Be there no more gentlemen to hear it  
Here? 'tis extraordinary fine news, in black and white,  
From Terra incognita.  Wi. 
Terra incognita?  Ne. 
ay, sir, the quintessence of the World: for our four parts  
Europe, Asia, Afric, and America, are as the four  
Elements, and this, as the learned Geographers say, is  
Like Coelum, a fift essence or quintessence of the World.  Wi. 
Pray, Sir, what news from this quintessence, it must  
Needs be refined novelties.  Ne. 
From Slavonia.  Wi. 
That's no part of Terra incognita, we know that.  Ni. 
But you do not know that Slavonia I mean, 'tis  
Inhabited by a Nation without a head.  Dwi. 
Without a head in? what part are their eyes?  Ne. 
Peace Dwîndle: a cursed kind of people that have  
Neither Law, nor Religion but for their own purposes:  
Their Country is somewhat low, and open to the Sea.  Sel. 
Do they not fear drowning?  Ne. 
They are safest in a tempest, if they be taken at any time by their enemies, and cast overboard, they turn other creatures, some Rocks, some Sharks, some crocodiles, and so retain part of their former nature.  Wi. 
What do those that dwell ashore?  Ne. 
They follow their work, and make nets not only to catch  
Fish, but Towns and Provinces: the Jews  
Are innocent to 'em, and the devil a dunce, of whose  
Trade they are.  Sel. 
A dangerous generation.  Ne. 
In Perwiggana a fruitful Country, the moon shines  
All day, and the Sun at night.  Sel. 
That's strange, he has a moral in't have not we gentlemen that sit up all night a drinking, and go to bed when the sun rises?  Ne. 
In this Province the King never comes out of his Palace.  Wi. 
How does the Court remove there?  Ne. 
When he does purpose to change the air, he has an Elephant richly trapped, that carries the Court upon his back into what part of the Kingdom he please.  Wi. 
I have heard of Elephants, that have carried Castles.  Ne. 
Snails, Snails in comparison: and to increase your wonder! this beast does never drink.  Wi. 
I would be loath to keep him company.  Sel. 
How then?  Ne. 
Eat, eat altogether, and what nothing but men, and of what rank or condition, none but great men, and the fattest nobility, but like your good monsieur he cares for nothing but the head, and it is confidently reported he has devoured more heads, within this three last years, than the Elephant we had in England; eat Penny Loves in seven.  Dwi. 
The Devil choke him would he had London Bridge in his belly too.  Ne. 
The subjects of the great Duke of Lubberland has been lately in rebellion.  Wi. 
I am sorry it will be inconvenient to hear out your coranto, I am weary of a little money when that's lost I may be a suitor for the rest of your news, and so I commend me to all your friends in Lubberland. Exit.  Ne. 
Dwîndle, didst hear this, now could I be angry.  Dwi. 
Go to play then, sir, if you lose your money, you may talk roundly to 'em for they cannot be so uncivil as not to give losers' leave to speak.  Ne. 
But if I win.  Dwi. 
Why then you may be drunk tonight and I'll— the Caster to you.  Enter Little-Stocke, Acre-less. Lit. 
A curse upon these reeling Dice, that last in, and in  
Was out of my way ten pieces; canst lend me any  
Money, how have the cards dealt with thee.  Acr. 
Lost, lost— I defy thee, if my Knight recover not  
I must be sober tomorrow.  Lit. 
Oh, for a hundred and all made now.  Enter Sell-away. Sel. 
Yonder's— wins tyrannically, without  
Mercy, he came in but with hundred pieces.  Lit. 
I'll get a fancy presently.  Acr. 
And how thrive the bones with his Lordship  Sel. 
His Lordship's bones are not well set they are maliciously bent against him they will run him quite out of all.  Enter Nephew, and Dwindle. Ne. 
More money Dwindle call my Uncle: I must have it, for my honour, two hundred pieces more Will serve my turn; in the mean time I will play away my Cloak and some superfluous things about me.  Dwi. 
By that time you are come to your shirt, I shall be here.  Sel. 
he's blown up too. Exit.  Enter Hazard. Ha. 
So, so, the Dice in two or three such nights will be out of my debt, and I may live to be a landlord again.  Sel. 
You are fortune's minion Master.  Ha. 
You would seem to be no fool, because she dotes not  
Upon you gentlemen, I must take my chance; 'twas  
A lucky hundred pound Jack Wilding.  Enter Wilding gnawing a Box. 
What eating the Boxes.  Acr. 
Let us in again.  Wi. 
Chewing thy cud a little, I have lost all my money Will  
Thou hast made a fortunate night on't wot  
Play no more.  Ha. 
'tis the first time I had the grace to give off a winner  
I won't tempt the Dice.  Wi. 
What hast won?  Ha. 
You do not hear me complain  
I have not been so warm  
This ten weeks.  Enter Acre-less. Wi. 
'tis frost in my breeches.  Acr. 
Master Hazard, I was afraid you had been gone, there's a fresh Gamester come in with his pockets full of Gold; he dazzles the Gamesters, and no man has stock to play with him.  Wi. 
What is he?  Acr. 
A Merchant he seems; he may be worth your retire.  Ha. 
Not for the Exchange tonight, I am resolved.  Wi. 
Temptation! now have I an infinite itch to this merchants' pieces.  Ha. 
If thou wot have any money,  
Speak before I launch out, and command it.  Wi. 
A hundred pieces.  Ha. 
Call to the Master o'th' house by this token— thou wot venture again then?  Wi. 
They may prove as lucky as thine— but what do I forget? the wench, the fairy at home, that expects me.  Ha. 
I had forgot too, you won't play now.  Wi. 
'tis now upon the time.  Ha. 
By any means go.  Wi. 
Hum, I ha' lost my money, and may recover a pretty wench. which hand? here covetousness, this lechery; money is the heavier. Will, dost hear? I'll requite thy courtesy. Thou hast lent me a hundred pound, I'll pay thee again, and thou shalt have for the use, the flesh device at home that expects, thou shalt supply my place Will.  Ha. 
You won't lose this opportunity, and fool yourself. Exit. Acre.  Wi. 
I am resolved; five hundred pieces say I'll come to him, you love the sport as well as I: tomorrow you shall thank me for't; be secret, she'll never know thee, for our conditions are to— Neither light nor— and she must needs conceive 'tis I.  Ha. 
Are you in earnest?  Wi. 
Have you wit to apprehend the courtesy?  
Let me alone: the wench, and I shall meet  
Hereafter and be merry, here's my Key  
The Merchant's money cools away: be wise  
And keep conditions to use her at thy pleasure,  
There will be enough for me: nay no demurs,  
You have not lost your stomach to this game  
howe'er I speed tonight, we'll laugh tomorrow  
How the poor wench was cozened.  Ha. 
But wouldst ha' me go?  Wi. 
I would ha' thee ride boy, I must to the Gamester  
Farewell, remember not to speak a word, but  
Kiss and embrace thy belly full.  Ha. 
If I do not,  
The punishment of an Eunuch light upon me.   

Act. IIII.  Enter Hazard and Wilding. Wi. 
How now Will, thou look'st desperately this morning.  
Didst sleep well tonight?  Ha. 
Yes, 'tis very like  
I went to sleep; but such a bedfellow!  Wi. 
What ails she; was she dull?  Ha. 
Do not inquire  
But curse yourself till noon, I am charitable  
I do not bid thee hang thyself, and yet  
I have cause to thank thee, I would not have lost  
The turn, for all the money I won last night Jack,  
Such a delicious theft.  Wi. 
I think so.  Ha. 
I found it so and dare make my affidavit.  Wi. 
Thou didst not see her?  Ha. 
Nor speak to her, to what purpose.  
she was so handsome i'th' dark, you know  
My meaning, had been pity any light  
Or voice should interrupt us.  Wi. 
Now do I  
Grow melancholy.  Ha. 
If thou dost envy me  
There is some reason for't, thou dost imagine  
I have had pleasure in my days, but never,  
Never, so sweet a skirmish, how like joy  
She grew to my embraces, not a kiss  
But had Elysium in't.  Wi. 
I was a rascal.  Ha. 
If thou didst know but half so much as I  
Or couldst imagine it, thou wouldst acknowledge  
thyself worse then a rascal on Record.  
I have not words to express, how soft, how bounteous  
How every thing a man with full desires  
Could wish a Lady, do not question me  
Further; 'tis too much happiness to remember  
I am sorry I have said so much.  Wi. 
Was not I cursed  
To lose my money, and such delicate sport?  Ha. 
But that I love thee well shouldst ne'er enjoy her.  Wi. 
Why?  Ha. 
I would almost cut thy throat.  Wi. 
You would not.  Ha. 
But take her, and if thou partest with her, one night more for less than both the Indies thou'lt lose by her, she has paid me for my service, I ask nothing else.  Wi. 
If she be such a precious armful Will  
I think you may be satisfied.  Ha. 
Take heed,  
And understand thyself a little better:  
I think you may be satisfied with what?  
A handsome wench 'tis heresy recant it  
I never shall be satisfied.  Wi. 
You do not purpose.  
Purpose a new encounter.  Ha. 
For thy sake  
'tis possible I may not, I would have  
My game kept for me; what I have done  
Was upon your entreaty, if you have  
The like occasion hereafter I  
Should have a hard heart to deny thee Jack.  Wi. 
Thou hast fired my blood, that I could call back time,  
And be possessed of what my indiscretion  
Gave up to thy enjoying, but I am comforted,  
She thinks 'twas I, and we hereafter may  
Be free in our delights: now, sir, the news  
With you? Enter Page.  Pa. 
My mistress did command my diligence  
To find you out and pray you come to speak with her.  Wi. 
When I am at leisure.  Pa. 
'tis of consequence,  
She says, and much concerns you.  Wi. 
Is Penelope  
With her?  Pa. 
Not when she sent me forth.  Wi. 
Let her expect: wait you on me.  Ha. 
I spy my blustering Gamester.  Wi. 
The younger ferret.  Ha. 
I care not if I allow thee a fit of mirth  
But your boy must be in comfort.  Enter Nephew and Dwindle. Dwi. 
Pray, sir, do not behave yourself so furiously,  
Your breath is able to blow down a house, sir.  Ne. 
My Uncle shall build 'em up again, oh Dwindle,  
Thou dost not know what honour 'tis to be  
So boisterous, I would take the wall now  
Of my Lord mayor's Giants.  Wi. 
Do as I bid you, sirrah.  Pa. 
Alas, sir, he'll devour me.  Ha. 
He sha'not hurt thee.  Pa. 
Be at my back then pray, sir, now I think on't  
I have the beard here too with which I frighted  
Our maids last night.  Dwi. 
You know these gentlemen.  Ne. 
Hazard, and Wilding? how is't? how is't Bulchins?  
wouldye had been with us; I ha' so mauled a Captain  
O'th' train band yonder.  Pa. 
Is not your name Barnacle?  Ha. 
Ancient Petarre?  Ne. 
What's this?  Wi. 
The admiration of the Town.  Ne. 
For what?  Wi. 
For valour.  Ne. 
This inch and a half?  Wi. 
there's the wonder, oh the spirit, the tall spirit  
Within him he has the soul of a Giant.  Ne. 
He has but a dwarf's body, ancient Petarre.  Pa. 
Sirrah, how dare you name a Captain?  
Thou ton of ignorance, he shall eat my Pistol,  
And save me the discharge.  Ne. 
Tell me of a tun? I'll drink twenty tons to thy  
Health, who shall hinder me if I have a  
Mind to't, your Pistol's a Peppercorn, I will eat  
Up an armoury, if my stomach serve, so long as I  
Have money to pay for't, and you were as little again  
As you are: fright me with your potguns, my name's  
Barnacle, sir, call me what you please, and my  
Man's name's Dwindle, and you go there to, do not  
Think but I have seen fire-drakes afore now though  
I never talked on't, and Rackets too, though my man  
Be a Coxcomb here, and balls of wildfire, no dispraise  
To you; d''ee think to thunder me with your Pick  
Tooth by your side?  Pa. 
Let my sword show him but one flash of lightning  
To singe the hair of his head off.  Ha. 
Good ancient Petarre.  Dwi. 
'tis a very devil in decimo sexto, Peter d'ye call him?  Pa. 
Thou dogbolt and cozen germane to Cerbenus.  Ha. 
Two heads once removed, he's somewhat like him.  Ne. 
I begin to think.  Dwi. 
And I begin to—  Pa. 
Again.  Wi. 
He does but think.  Pa. 
He think? is this a place for him to think in?  
Minotaur, vanish immediately, or I will shoot death  
From my mustachioes and kill thee like a Porcupine.  Ne. 
Ancient Petarre, I know thy name and I  
Honour it, thou'rt one of the most vainglorious  
Pieces of firework that ever water wet. I am a  
Gentleman, and if I have said any thing to disgust  
Thee, I can ask thee forgiveness, as well as the  
Proudest vassal on 'em all, extend thy paw, thou  
Invincible Epitome of Hercules, and let thy servant  
Kiss it.  Wi. 
Come pray, sir, be reconciled; he submits.  Pa. 
I see thou hast something in thee of a Soldier, to no Purpose, and I will cherish it. Thou art a rascal in thy understanding, thou shalt excuse me, Turk, in honourable love: I remember thy great grandfather was hanged for robbing a Pedlar-woman of six yards of inkle, and thou mayst, (maugre the Herald) in a right line, challenge the gallows by his copy; mongrel of mongrel Hall. I am thy humble servant, and will cut the throat of any man that says thou hast either wit or honesty more than is fit for a gentleman. Command my sword, my lungs, my life, thou art a puff, a mulligrub, a Metaphysical Coxcomb, and I honour you with all my heart.  Ne. 
I thank you noble ancient, and kind gentlemen.  
Come Dwindle, we'll go roar somewhere else.  Wi. 
Was ever such an off? Exit.  Ha. 
The boy hid hit his humour excellently.  
Here, cherish thy wit.  Pa. 
Now shall I tell my mistress you'll come to her?  Wi. 
How officious you are for your mistress, sirrah?  
What said she I came not home all night?  Pa. 
Nothing to me; but my eyes ne'er beheld  
Her look more pleasantly.  Ha. 
Now farewell Jack, I need not urge your secrecy  
Touching your mistress, I have mounted for you:  
Only I'll caution you, look when you meet  
That you perform your business handsomely.  
I ha' begun so well she may suspect else,  
And put thee out of service, if she do,  
You know your wages, I shall laugh at thee,  
And heartily; so farewell, farewell Jack. Exit.  Wi. 
To say the truth I have showed myself a coxcomb.  
A pox a play that made me double looser.  
For aught I know, she may admit me never  
To such a turn again, and then I ha' punished  
myself ingeniously.  Enter Mistress Wilding, Penelope, and Mistress Leonora, a Servant waiting upon them. 
My wife.  Pag. 
My Mistress, sir.  Wi. 
Keep you at distance, Penelope, and Leonora,  
she's as the boy reported something more  
Pleasant than ordinary.  Mi. 
'tis he good cousin,  
Pretend some business, offer at some wares,  
Or ask the Goldsmith what your Diamond's worth,  
Something to trifle time away, while I  
Speak with my husband a few words.  Wi. 
she comes toward me.  Mi. 
I can contain no longer,  
How d''ee sweetheart?  Wi. 
Well, but a little melancholy.  
You look more sprightfully wife, something has pleased you.  Mi. 
It has indeed, and if it be no stain  
To modesty, I would inquire how you  
Sped the last night.  Wi. 
I lost my money.  Mi. 
I do not mean that game.  Wi. 
I am not betrayed I hope; do not mean that game?  Mi. 
Y'are a fine gentleman.  Wi. 
'tis so, could she not keep her own counsel?  Mi. 
And have behaved yourself most wittily,  
And I may say most wrongfully: this will  
be much for your honour, when 'tis known.  Wi. 
What will be known?  Mi. 
Do you not blush? oh fie.  
Is there no modesty in man?  Wi. 
What riddle  
Have you got now? I won't yet seem conscious.  Mi. 
'tis time then to be plain, it was a wonder  
I could be so long silent, did you like  
Your last night's lodging?  Wil. 
Very, very well;  
I went not to bed all night.  Mi. 
You did not lie with  
Mistress Penelope my kinswoman?  Wi. 
Refuse me if I did.  Mi. 
You need not swear;  
But 'twas no fault of yours, no fault no virtue:  
But 'tis no place to expostulate these actions.  
In brief know 'twas my plot, for I observed  
Which way your warm affection moved, & wrought  
So with my honest cousin to supply  
Her wanton place, that with some shame at last,  
I might deceive your hard heart into kindness.  Wi. 
That, that again sweet wife, and be a little  
Serious; was it your plot to excuse your cousin,  
And be the bedfellow?  Mi. 
Heaven knows 'tis truth.  Wi. 
I am fitted, fitted with a pair of horns  
Of my own making.  Mi. 
Thank, and think upon  
That providence that would not have you lost  
In such a Forest of loose thoughts, and be  
yourself again; I am your handmaid still,  
And have learned so much piety to conceal  
whatever should dishonour you.  Wi. 
It buds,  
It buds already. I shall turn stark mad,  
Horn mad.  Mi. 
What ail you? are you vexed because  
Your wantonness thrived so well?  Wi. 
Well with a vengeance.  Mi. 
I did expect your thanks.  Wi. 
Yes, I do thank you, thank you heartily,  
Most infinitely thank you.  Mi. 
Doth this merit  
No other payment but your scorn, then know  
Bad man, 'tis in my power to be revenged,  
And what I had a resolution  
Should sleep in silent darkness, now shall look  
Day in the face, I'll publish to the World  
How I am wronged, and with what stubborness  
You have despised the cure of your own fame;  
Nor shall my cousin suffer in her honour.  
I stoop as low as earth to show my duty,  
But too much trampled on I rise to tell  
The World I am a woman.  Wi. 
No, no; hark you,  
I do not mock you, I am taken with  
The conceit, what a fine thing I have made myself.  
ne'er speak on't, thy device shall take; I'll love thee.  
And kiss thee for't, thou'st paid me handsomely:  
An admirable plot, and followed cunningly,  
I'll see thee anon again, and lie with thee  
tonight, without a stratagem. The gentlewomen  
Expect thee; keep all close, dear wife, no sentences.  
I am tricked and trimmed at my own charges rarely,  
I'll seek out somebody again. Exit.  Mi. 
I have presumed too much upon your patience,  
I have discovered, and I hope 'twill take.  Pene. 
I wish it may.  Mi. 
You are sad still, Leonora.  
Remove these thoughts: come I'll wait on you now  
To the Exchange: some toys may there strike off  
Their sad remembrance.  Leo. 
I attend you.  Mi. 
Farewell.  Enter Beaumont, and his keeper. Ke. 
The gentleman that was yesterday to speak with you  
Is come again to visit you.  Beo. 
S. Richard Hurry?  Ke. 
The same, sir.  Bar. 
You may admit him.  Ke. 
Men of his quality  
Do seldom court affliction, this, I must  
Allow, is a most noble gratitude  
For those good offices my father did him.  Enter S. Richard. Hu. 
Sir, the respects I owe you make me again  
solicitor for your safety, and although  
On the first proposition it appear  
Strange to you, and perhaps incredible,  
Which might dispose you to the slow embrace  
Of what I tendered, yet again brought to you  
After a time to examine and consider  
What most concerns you, I am confident,  
You will accept, and thank me.  Beo. 
Noble sir.  
You do express so are is bounty, men  
Will slowly imitate; I am not so  
Lost in my wild misfortune, but my reason  
Will guide me to acknowledge and pay back  
My service and myself, for so much charity  
As you have pleased to show me.  Enter Violante. Vio. 
Here's for thy pains: they are the same; make good  
Thy word, and place me where I may unseen  
Hear their discourse.  Ke. 
This way.  Beo. 
But with your pardon,  
I would desire to hear again how much  
I shall be obliged that knowing the extent  
Of your desert I may pay back a duty,  
That may in every circumstance become  
My fortune and the benefit.  Hu. 
Then thus: you are a Prisoner; that alone  
Is misery,  
But yours the greater, in that guilt of blood,  
Not sums that may be recompensed, detain you.  
I'll not dispute the circumstance, Delamore  
Slain by your hand.  Beo. 
I have confessed,  
The first jury having found it murder.  Hu. 
His blood calls to the law for justice, and you cannot  
Left to yourself, and looking on the fact,  
Expect with any comfort what must follow.  
Yet I in pity of your sufferings,  
In pity of your youth which would be else  
Untimely blasted, offer to remove  
Your sorrows, make you free and right again,  
With clear satisfaction to the Law.  Beo. 
Good sir,  
Pray give me leave to doubt here. I see not  
howe'er your will and charity may be active  
In my desires to save me, that you can  
Assure my life and freedom, since in causes  
Of such high nature, laws must have their course,  
Whose stream as it were wickedness to pollute,  
It were vanity for any private man  
To think he could resist. I speak not this  
To have you imagine I despise my life,  
But to express my fears your will does flatter you  
'bove what your power can reach.  Pa. 
For that I urge not  
My being a Commissioner alone  
To do you service, I have friends in Court,  
And great ones, when the rigor of the Law  
Hath sentenced you to mediate your pardon:  
Nor takes it from the justice of a Prince,  
Where provocation and not malice makes  
Guilty, to save, whom the sharp letter dooms  
Sometimes to execution: I am to far  
From doubting your discharge, that I dare forfeit  
My life if I secure not yours from any  
Danger for this offence.  Beo. 
You speak all comfort  
Which way can I deserve this?  Ha. 
That I'll show you.  
I had an obligation to your father  
Whose love when all my fortunes were i'th' ebb,  
And desperately, relieved me with large sums;  
By whose careful manage I arrived at what  
I am, and I should be a rebel to  
Nature and goodness not to love the son  
Of such a friend by his misfortune made  
Ripe for my gratitude.  Beo 
You speak your bounty,  
But teach not all this while how to deserve it.  Hu. 
'tis done by your acceptance of my daughter  
To be your Bride.  Be. 
To be my Bride? pray tell tell me  
Is she deformed or wanton, what vice has she?  Ha. 
Vice, sir, she will deserve as good a husband,  
She is handsome though I say't, and shall be rich too.  Beo. 
she is too good, if she be fair or virtuous.  
Pardon, I know she is both: but you amaze me,  
I did expect conditions of danger:  
A good wife is a blessing above health;  
You teach me to deserve my life first from you  
By offering a happiness beyond it.  Hu. 
If you find love to accept, 'tis the reward  
I look for, Leonora shall obey  
Or quit a father.  Be. 
Ha goodness defend.  
I know you do but mock me, and upbraid  
My act, that killed her servant: wound me still,  
I have deserved her curse: I see her weep,  
And every tear accuse me.  Hu. 
May I never  
Thrive in my Prayers to Heaven, if what I offer  
I wish not heartily confirmed.  Bu. 
I now  
Suspect you are not Leonora father,  
'Twere better you dissembled, then made her  
So past all hope of being cured again:  
I marry Leonora! can her soul  
Think on so foul a rape, she cannot sure.  Ha. 
She shall; I command.  Be. 
By virtue, but  
She sha'not, nor would I to grasp an Empire  
Tempt her to so much stain, let her tell down  
Her Virgin tears, on Delamore's cold Marble,  
Sigh to his dust, and call revenge upon  
His head whose anger sent him to those shades,  
From whence she ne'er must see him; this will justify  
She loved the dead: it were impiety  
One smile should bless her murderer, and howe'er  
You are pleased to compliment with my affliction,  
I know she cannot find one thought without her  
So foul to look upon me.  Hu. 
Let it rest on that, will you confirm and timely make provision for your safety?  Beo. 
For my life  
You mean, now on the chance, than I may live  
You are confident, and think it not impossible  
Your daughter may affect me; there's at once  
Two blessings, are they not and mighty ones,  
Considering what I am, how low, how lost  
T'th' common air?  Hu. 
Now you are wise.  Beo. 
But if  
Your daughter would confirm this, and propound  
herself my victory.  Hu. 
What then?  Beo. 
I should condemn her, and despise the conquest:  
These things may bribe an Atheist not a Lover.  
But you perhaps are ignorant, I have given  
My faith away irrevocably, 'tis  
The wealth of Violante, and I won't  
Basely steal back a thought, and yet I thank you,  
I am not so inhuman.  Hu. 
Will you not  
Prefer your life  
To honour and religion?  Beo. 
For shame be silent could you make me Lord  
Of my own destiny, and that Leonora  
Had empires for her dower, and courted me  
With all the flatteries of life, to quit  
My vows to Violante, I would die  
Upon her bosom to meet death.  Hu. 
And death  
You must expect which will take off this bravery.  Beo. 
And I will kiss it, kiss it, like a Bride.  Hu. 
So resolute?  Beo. 
And if I cannot live  
My Violantes, I will die her sacrifice.  
Good sir, no more, you do not well to trouble  
The quiet of a Prisoner thus that cannot  
Be a too careful Steward of those minutes  
Left him to make his peace, tempt me no further:  
The Earth is not so fixed as my resolves,  
Rather to die then in one thought transplant  
My love from Violante.  Hu. 
be undone,  
And this contempt shall hasten the divorce  
Of soul and love, die and be soon forgotten. Exit.  Enter Violante. Beo. 
My Violante, if there can be any joy  
Neighbour too so much grief, I'll pour it out  
To pay thy bounteous visit, if my eyes  
Admit no fellowship in weeping, 'tis  
Because my heart which saw thee first, would bid  
Thee welcome thither, scorning; to acknowledge  
There can be any thing but joy where thou art.  Vio. 
But sadness my dear Beaumont, while there is  
A cause that makes thee Prisoner, I must weep  
And empty many springs, my eyes are now  
No prophets of thy sorrow but the witness,  
And when I think of death that waits upon thee  
I wither to a Ghost.  Beo. 
Why Violante,  
We must all die, restrain these weeping Fountains,  
keep'em till I am dead, dispense 'em then  
Upon my grave, and I shall grow again,  
And in the sweet disguise of a fair Garden  
Salute the spring that gave me green and odour.  
Why should not love transform us?  Vio. 
Be not lost  
In these imaginations.  Beo. 
Or perhaps  
thoust ambition, she whose love made up  
A wonder to the World beside the pledge  
Of duty to her Lord, famed Artemisia  
Shall be no more in story for her Tomb:  
For on the Earth that weighs my body down  
When I am dead, thy tears by the cold breath  
Of Heaven congealed to Beaumont's memory,  
Shall raise a monument of Pearl to our do  
The great Mausolus' Sepulchre.  Vio. 
No more  
Of this vain language, if you have any pity  
On the poor Violante.  Ber. 
I ha' done,  
And yet I am going now to a long silence;  
Allow my sorrow to take leave Violante  Vio. 
It shall be so, be valiant my heart  
Beaumont I come not to take leave of thee.  Be. 
Perhaps you'll see me again.  Vio. 
Again and often,  
Thy stars are gentle to thee, many days,  
And years are yet between thee and that time  
That threatens loss of breath; see, I can thus  
Disperse the Clouds sat heavy on my brow,  
Wipe the moisture hence, 'tis day again;  
Take beams into thy eye, and let them sink  
Upon thy better fortune, live, live happily.  Be. 
Is Delamore alive?  Vio. 
Dead and interred.  Be. 
From what can this hope rise?  Vio. 
From thyself Beaumont;  
If thou wilt save thyself, I have heard all,  
And by the duty of my love am bound  
To hide your resolution, can you be  
So merciless to yourself to refuse life  
When it is offered with the best advantage  
Is Leonora's love? a price that should  
Buy you from all the World? be counselled sir,  
Oh, do not lose yourself in a vain passion  
For thought of me, I cancel all your vows,  
And give you back your heart, be free again  
If you will promise me to live and love.  Be. 
Leonora.  Vio. 
That best of womankind, a mine of sweetness.  Be. 
But can you leave me then?  Vio. 
I justify  
Thy choice of me in that, that to preserve thee  
Dare give thee back again, be Leonora's,  
For being mine thouart lost to all the World  
Better a thousand times, thou be made hers  
Then we both loose, I'll pawn my faith she'll love thee  
I'll be content to hear my Beaumont's well,  
And visit thee sometimes like a glad sister,  
And never beg a kiss, but if I weep  
At any time when we are together,  
Do not believe 'tis sorrow makes my eyes  
So wet, but joy to see my Beaumont living:  
As it is now to hope.  Be. 
If thou dost mean thus  
Thou dost the more to inflame me to be constant,  
Be not a miracle and I may be tempted  
To love my life above thee, by this kiss,  
Oh, give me but another in my death  
It will restore me by this innocent hand,  
While as I wish my soul I won't leave thee  
For the World's Kingdom.  Vio. 
But you must, unless  
You change for Leonora, think of that,  
Think ere you be too rash.  Be. 
I'll think of thee,  
And honour to be read, I love Violante  
But never could deserve her, live thou happy,  
And by thy virtue teach a nearer way  
To heaven, we may meet yonder, do not make me  
More miserable than I am, by adding perjury  
To my bloody sin, the memory of thee  
Will at my execution advance  
My spirit to a— that men shall think  
I have changed my cause for martyrdom.  Vio. 
Then here  
As of a dying man I take my leave,  
Farewell unhappy Beaumont, I'll pray for thee.  Beo. 
'tis possible I may live yet and be thine.  Vio. 
These tears embalm thee  
If in this World we never meet  
My life is buried in thy winding sheet.  Beo. 
This exceeds all my sorrow.   

Act. V.  Enter Wilding. Wi. 
I am justly punished now for all my tricks,  
And pride o'th' flesh, I had ambition  
To make men cuckolds, now the devil has paid me,  
Paid me i'th' same coin, and I'll compare  
My forehead with the broadest of my neighbours:  
But ere it spreads too monstrous, I must have  
Some plot upon this Hazard, he supposes  
He has enjoyed Penelope, and my trick  
To drive the opinion home, to get him marry her  
And make her satisfaction: the wench  
Has oft commended him, he may be won to't,  
I never meant to part with all her portion,  
Perhaps he'll thank me for the moiety.  
And this disposed on she's conjured to silence.  
It must be so.  Enter Hazard. Ha. 
Jack Wilding how is't man?  
How goes the Plough at home? what says the Lady  
Guinever that was humbled in your absence?  
You have the credit with her, all the glory  
Of my night's work; does she not hide her eyes,  
And blush, and cry you are a fine gentleman.  
Turn a toside, or drop a handkercher,  
And stoop, and take occasion to leer,  
And laugh upon thee?  Wi. 
Nothing less, I know not  
What thou'st done to her, but she's very sad.  Ha 
Sad; I'll be hanged then.  Wi. 
Thou must imagine  
I did the best to comfort her.  Ha. 
she's melancholy  
For my absence man, I'll keep her company  
Again tonight.  Wi. 
she thinks 'twas I enjoyed her.  Ha. 
Let her think whom she will, so we may couple.  Wi. 
And nothing now but sighs, and cries I have  
Undone her.  Ha. 
she's a fool, I hurt her not,  
She cried not out I am sure, and for my body  
I defy the College of Physicians:  
Let a jury of Virgins search me.  Wi. 
To be plain,  
Although she has no thought but I was her bedfellow,  
You are the only argument of her sadness.  Ha. 
How can that be?  Wi. 
When I had merrily  
Excused what had been done, she fetched a sight,  
And with some tears revealed her love to you,  
That she had loved you long, but by this act  
Of mine, d''ee mark, she was become unworthy  
To hope for so good fortune, I cannot tell,  
But she is strangely passionate.  Ha. 
For me?  Wi. 
For you, but thou art soft and tender-hearted,  
And in that confidence I did forbear  
To tell her who had done the deed.  Ha. 
You did so:  
'Twas wisely done, now I collect myself,  
She has sometime smiled upon me.  Wi. 
Nay believe it  
She is taken with thee above all the World.  Ha. 
And yet she was content you should  
'Bove all the World.  Wi. 
But 'twas your better fate  
To be the man, it was her destiny  
To have the right performance, thou art a gentleman,  
And canst not but consider the poor gentlewoman.  Ha. 
What wod'st ha' me do?  Wi. 
Make her amends, and marry her.  Ha. 
Marry a strumpet?  Wi. 
You had first possession,  
And thou'st been married earlier couldst but had  
Her maidenhead, besides nobody knows but we ourselves.  Ha. 
Be not abused I had  
No maiden head.  Wi. 
My greater torment: come, come thou art modest;  
Heaven knows she may be desperate.  Ha. 
A fair riddance,  
we have enough o'th' tribe, I am sorry I cannot  
Furnish her expedition with a pair  
Of my own Garters.  Wi. 
I— of Athens grown,  
I know thou art more charitable, she may prove  
A happy wife, what woman but has frailty?  Ha. 
Let her make the best on't, set up shop  
I'th' Strand, or Westminster, she may have custom,  
And come to speak most learnedly i'th' Nose  
Bid her keep quarter with the Constable.  
And Justice's clerk and she in time may purchase.  Wi. 
She has a portion will maintain her like  
A gentlewoman and your wife.  Ha. 
Where is't?  Wi. 
In my possession, and I had rather thou  
Shouldst have it then another.  Ha. 
Thank you heartily,  
A single life has single care, pray keep it.  Wi. 
Come thou shalt know I love thee, thou shalt have  
More by a thousand pound, than I resolved  
To part with cause I would call thee cozen too;  
A brace of thousands Will, she has to her Portion,  
I hoped to put her off with half the sum;  
That's truth some younger brother would ha' thanked me,  
And given my quietus tush, 'tis frequent  
With men that are so trusted, is't a match,  Ha. 
Two thousand pound will make a maidenhead  
That's crooked straight again.  Wi. 
thouart in the right,  
Or for the better sound, as the Grammarians  
Say, I will call it twenty hundred pound  
by’r lady a pretty stock, enough and need be,  
To buy up half the maidenheads in a County.  Ha. 
here's my hand I'll consider on't no further,  
Is she prepared?  Wi. 
Leave that to me.  Ha. 
No more.  Wi. 
I'll instantly about it. Exit.  Ha. 
Ha, ha.  
The project moves better than I expected,  
What pains he takes out of his ignorance?  Enter Barnacle. Ba. 
Oh! Sir I am glad I ha' found you.  Ha. 
I was not lost.  Ba. 
My Nephew, sir, my Nephew.  Ha. 
What of him.  Vn. 
He's undone, he's undone, you have undone him.  Ba. 
What's the matter?  Vn. 
You have made him, sir, so valiant I am afraid  
He's not long lived, he quarrels now with everybody  
And roars and domineers and shakes the pen-houses.  
A woman that sold pudding-pies, but took  
The wall on him, and he trips up her heels,  
And down fell all, the kennel ran pure whitepot  
What shall I do I fear he will be killed:  
I take a little privilege myself  
Because I threaten to disinherit him,  
But nobody else dares talk or meddle with him  
Is there no way to take him down again  
And make him coward?  Ha. 
There are ways to tame him.  Ba. 
Now I wish heartily you had beaten him  
For the hundred pound.  Ha. 
That may be done yet  Ba. 
is't not too late? but do you think 'twill humble him?  
I expect every minute he's abroad  
To hear he has killed somebody, or receive him  
Brought home with half his brains or but one leg.  
Good sir.  Ha. 
What would you have me do?  Bar. 
I'll pay you for't  
If you will beat him soundly, sir, and leave him  
But as you found him; for if he continue  
A blade and be not killed, he won't scape  
The gallows long, and 'tis not for my honour  
He should be hanged  Ha. 
I shall deserve as much,  
To allay this mettle, as I did to quicken it.  Ba. 
Nay 'tis my meaning to content you, sir.  
And I shall take it as a favour too,  
If for the same price you made him valiant,  
You will unblade him: here's the money sir,  
As weighty gold as tother; cause you should not  
Lay it on lightly; break no limb, and bruise him  
Three-quarters dead, I care not; he may live  
Many a fair day after it.  Ha. 
You show  
An uncle's love in this, trust me to cure  
His valour.  Ba. 
He is here; do but observe.  Enter Nephew. 
And beat him, sir, accordingly.  Ne. 
How now Uncle?  Ba. 
Thou art no Nephew of mine, thou'rt a rascal  
I'll be at no more charge to make thee a gentleman,  
Pay for your Dice and drinkings, I shall have  
The surgeon's bills brought shortly home to me,  
Be troubled to bail thee from the Sessions,  
And afterwards make friends to the Recorder  
For a reprieve, yes, I will see thee hanged first.  Ne. 
And be at the charge to paint the gallows too;  
If I have a mind the waits shall play before me,  
And I'll be hanged in state three stories high, Uncle:  
But first I'll cut your throat.  Bar. 
Bless me, defend me.  Enter Acre-less, Sell-away, Little-stocke. Acr 
How now, what s the matter?  Sel 
Master Barnacle?  Bar. 
there's an ungracious bird of mine own nest,  
Will murder me.  Lit. 
He won't sure?  Ha. 
Put up,  
And ask your Uncle presently forgiveness;  
Or I will hough thee.  Ne. 
hough me? I will put up  
At thy entreaty.  Ha. 
Gentlemen you remember  
This noble gallant.  Acr. 
cousin of yours I take it.  Ha. 
cousin to a killing, in your company  
Lent me a box o'th' ear.  Ne. 
No, no, I gave it,  
I gave it freely; keep it, never think on't,  
I can make bold with thee another time,  
would 't'had been twenty.  Ha. 
One's too much to keep.  
I am a Gamester, and remembered always  
To pay the box; there's first your principal,  
Take that for the use.  Ne. 
Use? would thou'dstad'st given my Uncle.  Ha. 
They have cost him already two hundred pounds  
And upwards, shotten Herring, thing of noise.  Ne. 
Oh, for my man Dwindle  
And his basket-hilt now my Uncle shall rue this.  Ha. 
Down presently, and before these gentlemen  
Desire his pardon.  Ne. 
How, desire his pardon?  Ha. 
Then let this go round.  Ne. 
I will ask his pardon, I beseech you Uncle.  Ha. 
And swear.  Ne. 
And do swear.  Ha. 
To be obedient, never more to quarrel.  Ne. 
Why look you gentlemen, I hope you are persuaded  
By being sick so patiently, that I am  
Not over valiant.  Bar. 
I suspect him still.  Ne. 
For more assurance do you kick me too.  
Am not I patient and obedient now?  
Will you have any more gentlemen, before I rise?  Ha. 
If ever he prove rebellious in act,  
Or language, let me know it.  Ne. 
Will you not give  
Me leave to roar abroad a little for  
My credit?  Bar. 
Never, sirrah, now I'll tame you.  
I thank you gentlemen, command me for  
This courtesy.  Ne. 
'tis possible I may  
With less noise grow more valiant hereafter:  
Till then I am in all your debts.  Bar 
Be ruled,  
And be my Nephew again: this was my love,  
My love dear Nephew.  Ne. 
If your love consist  
In kicking Uncle, let me love you again,  Bar. 
Follow me, sirrah.  Acr. 
Then his Uncle paid for't?  Ha. 
Heartily, heartily.  Lit. 
I thought there was some trick.  Ha. 
And whether are you going gentlemen?  Sel. 
We are going to visit Beomont in the Prison.  Ha. 
'tis charity, but that I have deep engagements,  
I'd wait upon you, but commend my service to him,  
I'll visit him ere night; you saw not Wilding?  A.L.S. 
We saw his wife and kinswoman enter  
Sr. Richard Hurries half an hour ago.  Ha. 
His kinswoman? I thank you.  
You have saved me travail, farewell gentlemen,  
Farewell.  Enter Leonora, and Violante, Mistress Wilding; and Penelope. Leo. 
My father has some design, and bade me send for thee.  Wi. 
Y'are both too sad, come, come, we must divert  
This melancholy.  Vio. 
I beseech your pardon,  
But is my Beomont sent for?  Leo. 
Yes: we are  
Too private.  Vio. 
I much fear Leonora now,  
She looks not sad enough, although I could  
Resign my interest freely to preserve him,  
I would not willingly be present when  
They interchange hearts, sly will show too much  
A tyrant, if she be not satisfied  
With what was mine, but I must be moiety  
To be their triumph.  Enter Hazard. Mi. 
Master Hazard?  Ha. 
All things  
Succeed beyond your thought, pray give me a little  
Opportunity with your kinswoman. Exit. Mi. Leo. Vio.  Leo. 
we'll withdraw.  Ha. 
I know not how to woo her now, sweet Lady?  Pene. 
Your pleasure, sir?  Ha. 
Pray let me ask you a question.  
If you had lost your way and met one,  
A traveller like myself, that knew the coast  
O'th' country, would you thank him to direct you?  Pene. 
That common manners would instruct.  Ha. 
I think so.  Pene, 
But there are many ways to the wood, and which  
Would you desire, the nearest path, and safest  
Or that which leads about?  
Without all question.  
The nearest and the safest.  Ha. 
Can you love then?  Pene. 
I were a devil else:  Ha. 
And can you love a man?  Pene. 
A man, what else, sir?  Ha. 
Y'are so far on your way. Now love but me,  
Y'are at your journey's end, what say to me?  Pene. 
Nothing, sir.  Ha. 
That's no answer, you must say something.  Pene. 
I hope you'll not compel me.  Ha. 
D''ee hear Lady?  
Setting this foolery aside: I know  
You cannot choose but love me.  Pene. 
Why?  Ha. 
I have been told so.  Pene. 
You are easy of belief  
I think I should be best acquainted with  
My own thoughts, and I dare not be so desperate  
To conclude.  Ha. 
Come you lie; I could have given't  
In smother phrase: y'are a dissembling gentlewoman.  
I know your heart, you have loved me a great while.  
What should I play the fool? if you remember  
I urged some wild discourse in the behalf  
Of your lewd kinsman, 'twas a trial of thee  
That humour made me love thee; and since that thy virtue.  Pene. 
Indeed sir?  Ha. 
Indeed, sir? why I have been contracted to thee.  Pene. 
How long?  Ha. 
This half hour, know thy portion, and shall have it.  Pene. 
Strange.  Ha. 
Nay I'll have thee too.  Pene. 
You will?  Ha. 
I cannot help it; thy kind cozen will have it so:  
'tis his own plot, to make thee amends, is't not  
Good mirth? but 'tis not love to thee or me,  
But to have me possessed he is no cuckold:  
I see through his device, thou art much beholding to him:  
He meant to have put thee off with half thy portion,  
But that if things come out we should keep counsel.  
Say is't a match? I have two thousand pound too  
I thank the Dice, let's put our stocks together,  
Children will follow; he is here already.  Enter Wilding. Wi. 
So close! I am glad on't, this prepares, Will Hazard,  
And my young cousin; a word Penelope.  Ha. 
Now will he make all sure.  Wi. 
You used me coarsely,  
But I have forgot it, what discourse have you  
With this gentleman?  Pene. 
He would seem to be a Suitor.  Wi. 
Entertain him; d''ee hear, you may do worse, be ruled.  
'Twas in my thought to move it, does he not  
Talk strangely?  Pene. 
Of what?  Wi. 
Of nothing, let me counsel you  
To love him, call him husband.  Pene. 
I resolve  
Never to marry without your consent.  Enter Acre-less, Little-stock, Sell-away. Ha. 
Gentlemen, welcome.  Pene. 
If you bestow me, sir, I will be confident  
I am not lost, I must confess I love him.  Wi. 
No more: then lose no time, kind gentlemen,  
Y'are come most seasonably to be the witnesses  
Of my consent, I have examined both  
Your hearts, and freely give thee here my kinswoman:  
No sooner shall the Church pronounce your married  
But challenge what is hers.  Ha. 
Two thousand pound.  Wi. 
I do confess it is her portion  
You sha'not stay to talk, nay gentlemen,  
Pray see the business finished.  A.L.S. 
We attend you.  Wi. 
So, so, this will confirm him in the opinion,  
Penelope was the creature he enjoyed,  
And keep off all suspicion of my wife,  
Who is still honest in the imagination  
That only I embraced her, all secure,  
And my brows smooth again, who can deride me?  
But I myself, ha, that's too much I know it,  
And spite of these tricks am a Cornelius.  
Cannot I bribe my conscience to be ignorant?  
Why then I ha' done nothing, yes advanced  
The man, that grafted shame upon my forehead:  
Vexation, parted with two thousand pound,  
And am no less a cuckold then before  
Was I predestined to this shame and mockery?  
Where were my brains? yet why am I impatient?  
Unless betrayed he cannot reach the knowledge,  
And then no matter— yes I am cursed again,  
My torment multiplies, how can he think  
He played the wanton with Penelope  
When he finds her a maid? that ruins all:  
I would she had been strumpeted, he knows  
My wife's Virginity to well, I am lost,  
And must be desperate, kill him; no, my wife.  
Not so good, death is over black and horrid,  
And I am grown ridiculous to myself.  
I must do some thing.  Enter Sr. Richard Hurry. Hu. 
Master Wilding, welcome,  
Y'ave been a great a stranger.  Wi. 
Do you know me?  Hu. 
Know you?  Wi. 
They say I am much altered o'late.  Hu. 
There is some alteration in your forehead.  Wi. 
My forehead?  Hu. 
'tis not smooth enough, you're troubled:  
Your wife's within.  Wi. 
she loves your daughter, sir.  Hu. 
When saw you Master Beaumont?  Wi. 
Not today.  Hu. 
I have sent for him; pray stay, and witness  
His further examination, I propounded  
A way to do him good but he is obstinate.  
Would I could change condition with him!  Wi. 
He is not troubled now with being a cuckold,  
You shall command.  Enter Mistress Wilding, and a Servant. Hu. 
Your husband Lady,  Wi. 
Wife you are a whore  
You shall know more hereafter,  
I must go live i'th' Forest.  Mi. 
And I i'th' Common.  Wi. 
she'll turn prostitute.  Hu. 
Attend him hither. Master Beaumont's come  
Nay you shall favour me so much, here's the gentleman  Enter Master Beaumont with Officers. 
Already.  Bea. 
Sir, your pleasure? by your command I am brought hither,  
I hope you have no more to charge me with  
Then freely I have confessed.  Hu. 
Yes.  Bea. 
I must answer  
You can have but my life to satisfy;  
Pray speak my accusation.  Hu. 
Besides the offence known and examined  
You are guilty  
Of that which all good natures do abhor.  Bea. 
You have a privilege, but do not make me  
Good sir, to appear monstrous, who are my  
Accusers?  Hu. 
I am one.  Bea. 
And my judge too:  
I have small hope to plead then, but proceed,  
And name my trespass.  Hu. 
That which includes all  
That man should hate; ingratitude.  Bea 
You have  
Preferred a large indictment, and are the first  
That ever charged me with't, it is a stain  
My soul held most at distance, but descend  
To some particular; this offence doth rise  
Or fall in the degree, or reference  
To persons sinned against, to whom have I  
Been so ingrateful?  Hu. 
Ingrate as high as murder.  Bea. 
To whom?  Hu. 
thyself, to whom that life thou oughtest to cherish  
Thou hast undone  Bea. 
I am not so uncharitable  
howe'er you please to urge it, but I know  
Why you conclude so, let me, sir, be honest  
To heaven and my own heart, and then if life  
Will follow, it shall be welcome.  Ha. 
Still perverse:  
Stand forth my Leonora, look upon her.  Bea. 
I see a comely frame which cannot be  
Without as fair a mind.  Hu. 
With her I make  
Once more a tender of my wealth and thy  
Enlargement.  Wi. 
How can you discharge him, sir?  Hu. 
Take you no care for that, it shall be secured  
If he accept, 'tis the last time of asking,  
Answer to purpose now.  Bea. 
There shall need none,  
Sir, to forbid this marriage, but myself;  
My resolution but warm before  
Is now a flame I honour this fair Virgin,  
And am too poor to thank your love, but must not  
Buy life with so much shame, I am Violante,  
My last breath shall confirm it.  Wi. 
Beaumont think on't  
A little better, be not mad; if this be possible  
Embrace her instantly.  Bea. 
she does not look  
With any countenance of love upon me:  
See, she does weep.  Wi. 
she'll love thee afterwards.  
And she do not, she can but cuckold thee  
There be more i'th' Parish man.  Hu. 
Since you are so peremptory  
So peremptory: here receive your sentence.  
Live and love happily.  Vio. 
My Dearest Beaumont.  Wi. 
To what purpose is this? he must be hanged for Delamore.  Hu. 
here's one can clear the danger.  Wi. 
The Surgeon? did not you say he was dead?  Sur. 
I did, to serve his ends, which you see noble:  
Delamore is past danger, but wants strength  
To come abroad.  Leo. 
You give me another life.  Hu. 
I see heaven has decreed him for thy husband,  
And shalt have my consent too.  Leo. 
Now you bless me.  Hu. 
I wished to call thee son, pardon my trial  
Joy ever in your bosoms.  Bea. 
I feel a blessing  
That only can be thought, silence my tongue,  
And let our hearts discourse.  Enter Hazard, Penelope, Acre-less, Little-stocke, and Sel-away Ha. 
You leave gentlefolks; who wishes joy.  
And a bundle of boys the first night?  Hu. 
Married.  Pene. 
Fast as the Priest could tie us.  A.S.L. 
We are witnesses.  Ha. 
cousin two thousand pound, and Lady now  
'tis time to clear all.  Wi. 
I'll be divorced now  
Wife y'are a Whore.  Ha. 
Ho there, no bug-words, come  
we must tell something in your care. Be merry  
You are no cuckold, make no noise, I know  
That's it, offends your stomach.  Wi. 
Ha!  Ha. 
I touched not her, nor this with one rude action.  
we'll talk the circumstance when you come home.  
Your wife expected you, but when I came  
She had prepared light, and her cousin here  
To have made you blush and chide you into honesty  
Seeing their chaste simplicities, was won  
To silence, which brought on my better fortune.  Wi. 
Can this be real  Mi. 
By my hopes of peace  
I'th' tother World you have no injury:  
My plot was only to betray you to  
Love and repentance.  Pene. 
Be not troubled, sir,  
I am a witness of my cousin's truth,  
And hope you'll make all prosper, in renewing  
Your faith to her.  Ha. 
Be wise and no more words  
Thou hast a treasure in thy wife, make much on her:  
For any act of mine, she is as chaste  
As when she was new borne. Love love her Jack.  
As when she was new borne. Love; love her Jack.  Wi. 
I am ashamed, pray give me all forgiveness,  
I see my follies, heaven invites me gently  
To thy chaste bed, be thou again my dearest,  
Thy virtue shall instruct me: joy to all:  
Here be more.— Delamore is living,  
And Leonora marked to enjoy him,  
Violante is possessed of Beaumont too.  Ha. 
These be love's miracles: a spring tide flow  
In every bosom.  Hu. 
This day let me feast you  
Anon we'll visit Delamore.  Leo. 
My soul  
Longs to salute him.  Ha. 
Here all folly's die.  
May never Gamester have worse fate than I.   
FINIS   

Imprimatur Tho. Wykes.