THE WITTY FAIR ONE. A Comedy.  
As it was presented at the Private House in DRURY Lane. By her Majesty's Servants.  
By JAMES SHIRLEY.  HOR. SERM. lib. 1. 
Men' moveat cimex Pantiluis? aut crucier, quod  
Vellicet absentem Demetriùs?  
— Demetri, teque Tigelli  
Discipulorum inter iubeo plorare Cathedras.  
LONDON Printed by B. A. and T. F. for WIL. COOKE, and are to be sold at his shop, near Furnivals-Inn Gate, in Holborn. 1633.   

TO THE TRULY NOBLE KNIGHT Sir EDWARD bushel.  
SIr, your candid censure of some unworthy Poems which I have presented to the world, long since made me your Servant in my thoughts, and being unwilling to rest long in the silent contemplation of your Nobleness, I presumed at last to send this Comedy, to kiss your hand, as the first degree to my greater happiness in your more particular knowledge of me; It wanted no grace on the Stage, if it appear acceptable to you in this new trim of the Press, it will improve abroad, and you oblige the Author to acknowledge a favour beyond the first applause. Pardon the rudeness of my public address to you, in the number of many whom which more excuse, I might have interrupted. I am bold, but your mercy will incline you not to despise these (at the worst) but errors of my devotion, and the weak expression of his service, whose desires are to be known,  
Your true Honourer, JAMES SHIRLEY.   

Dramatis Personae.  

Sir GEORGE, an old rich Knight.  
Mr. WORTHY, his Brother.  
Mr. AYMWELL, Lover of Violetta.  
Mr. FOWLER, a wild young Gentleman.  
Sir NICHOLAS, a Foolish Knight.  
Mr. CLARE, Gentlemen.  
Mr. MANLY, Gentlemen.  
TUTOR, and Companion to Sir Nicholas.  
BRAINES, Sir George's Servant.  
WHIBBLE, Mr. Worthie's Servant.  
2. GENT. FOOTMAN. MESSINGER.   

VIOLETTA, Sir George's Daughter:  
PENELOPE, Mr. Worthie's Daughter.  
SENSIBLE, Chambermaids.  
Winifrid, Chambermaids.    

THE WITTY FAIR ONE.  

ACTVS, I.  

Scaena, I.  Enter Sir George Richley, Master Worthy, Whibble a Servant. Mr. Worthy. 
SO soon after dinner?  Sir Geo: 
I am engaged, and must away, excuse me brother.  M. Wor: 
Well, make ready his horse.  Whib. 
His worship's pad shall be prepared: If your Golding be not ready in a minute, your Worship shall ride me.  Sir Geo: 
I shall not need to urge your care upon  
My Daughter, on whom next the devotion of  
My soul to heaven, all my desires  
And thoughts reflect, I leave her to your trust,  
And in my absence doubt not you will be  
Both Uncle and a Father.  Wor. 
Willingly, I would depose myself from both those titles,  
To serve my Niece, her virtue will reward me,  
I know she is your study, in your want  
I will put on your jealousy.  Sir Geo. 
It would not  
Become me to confine your entertainments,  
Of friends and visitants, but remember Brother,  
she's now my sole heir, and by the late death  
Or her twin Sister, she derives the right  
Of all my wealth to her, Gallants I fear  
I'th' Town hold too fruitful intelligence  
In these affairs, and if they be not watched  
They'll with their wit charm all the dragon's guard, these golden apples.  Worth. 
There are such indeed.  Sir Geo. 
Oh sir, there are too many, not a Virgin  
Left by her friend's heir to a noble fortune,  
But she's in danger of a Marriage  
To some puft Title, what are these enter the Garden?  Enter Aymwell, Fowler, and Clare. Wor. 
The Gentlemen that dined with us—  Fow. 
Why how now Frank, grown musty on a sudden? Head hung, and playing the thief thus with your friends, to steal your person from us, what's the matter.  Aym. 
Nothing, nothing Gentlemen.  Clare. 
Very like, and yet you leave our company for this nothing.  Fow. 
Let's in again to the Ladies.  Sir Geo. 
What's he.  Wor. 
One Master Fowler a reputed wit  
I'th' Town, affected by young Gentlemen  
For his Converse, yet lives upon no pension  
But his own Fortune, and a Fair one.  
Th'other Mr. Clare, a friend to Mr. Aymwell, whom they both seem to solicit.  Sir Geo. 
Mr. Aymwell.  Wor. 
A hopeful Gentleman.  Sir Geo. 
Brother, did you not observe at dinner  
His eyes shoot beams upon my Daughter (more  
Than I was pleased with) Mr. Aymwell call you him,  
I may suspect unjustly, but such looks are often loose conveyors.  Wor. 
Make no part of him your fear.  Sir Geo. 
I do not, when I call to mind my daughter's virtue and obedience, She knows my purpose to dispose her to Sir Nicolas Treedle.  Wor. 
And how do you find her inclination?  Sir Geo. 
As I would direct it.  Wor. 
She will maintain it to your comfort Sir,  
however with what vigilance becomes me,  
I will preserve it, while she remains within my custody.  Sir Geo. 
I'll leave a Servant to wait upon her.  Wor. 
Brains.  Sir Geo. 
The same.  Wor. 
He is a cunning fellow.  Sir Geo. 
He has a sconce,  
Carries some subtlety which he employs  
Still honestly in discharge of any trust committed to him.  Wor. 
Good.  Sir Geo. 
And 'tis his pride.  
He was ne'er o'er-reached in any action.  Wor. 
He knows his charge.  Sir Geo. 
Perfectly, but I lose time, Sir Nicolas  
Treedle expects me, this night i'the Country.  Wor. 
When d'ee return?  Sir Geo. 
Within these three days at most,  
Trouble yourself no further.  Wor. 
I'll wait on you to your horse Sir. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Aymwell. Aym. 
Sh'as shot a fire into my bosom, from  
Her eye, or I have drawn in, at mine own,  
Love poison. Oh my stars were too ungentle  
To point her out the Mistress of my thoughts,  
Who is so much like them, above the hope  
Of ever climbing too, I see a fatal  
Impossibility divide us, yet  
The more I would discharge this new guest, it  
Strengthens itself within me, and renews  
Vigour to keep possession, she's above me  
And her great fortune makes my expectation  
So dull and painful, a great heir her uncle?  Enter Mr. Wortby. Wor. 
Mr. Aymwell what alone, come let's  
To cards, where be the Gentlemen.  Aym. 
Within Sir.  
H'as Sir George Richley left us?  Wor. 
Some affairs importuned his departure.  Aym. 
When shall we expect him?  Wor. 
Three days hence, this your enquiry  
Doth promise you have business with him.  Aym. 
Little,  
But you did motion cards, I'll choose my partner  
And for a set or two I'm at your service.  Wor. 
Make your own election.  Aym. 
Why d'ee mock me.  Wor. 
How mock you.  Aym. 
Yes?  Wor. 
You do not mean in earnest.  Aym. 
I shall betray my passion.  Wor. 
I find him.  Aym. 
You may for I am lost. Enter Mrs. Violet.  Vio. 
he's here— good Uncle, is my father gone?  Wor. 
Yes, gentle Niece.  Vio. 
Delight in both your walks  
I'll take this Arbour.  Aym. 
So breaks the day and hides itself again  
Among the Western shades, were she to dwell  
Within your garden it should need no sun.  
Her smiles were powerful to infuse a warmth  
Into the flowers, her breath perfume your arbours  
The trees grow rich in blossom and bear fruit  
At the same instant, as 'twere ever Spring  
And ever Summer when she seats herself  
Within some bower, the feathered Quiristers  
Shall play their music to her and take pride  
To warble airy notes till she be weary,  
Which when she shall but with one Accent of  
Her own express, an hundred Nightingales  
Shall fall down dead from the soft boughs before her  
For grief to be o'erchanted.  Wor. 
Here's pretty madness.  Aym. 
'Tis so, you have done my passion justice Sir  
For love is but a straggling from our reason.  Wor. 
If you do love my Niece, let you and I  
Talk out of Metaphor.  Aym. 
You know my Father.  Wor. 
He was my noble friend.  Aym. 
For his sake, give me your free answer to  
One question.  Wor. 
What is't, promise yourself  
What I can do or say is at your service.  Aym. 
Is there a possibility, admit  
I loved your Niece, she might be won at last  
To be my wife.  Wor. 
I'll not dispute the extent  
Of what is possible, yet my answer may be  
Satisfactory.  Aym. 
You were ever generous.  Wor. 
I were uncivil not to reply to  
A question, you shall find my love more fruitful,  
You shall have both my answer and my counsel.  Aym. 
Let me embrace a perfect friend.  Wor. 
D''ee know what  
Fortune my young Niece may bring her husband.  Aym. 
I guess a great one, but I set more value  
Upon her person, my affection springs  
Not from her wealth.  Wor. 
But yet her portion  
Is worth your taking notice Master Aymwell,  
Her Father is a man who though he write  
Himself but Knight, keeps a warm house i'th' Country  
'Mongst his Tenants, takes no Lordly pride  
To travel with a Footman and a Page  
To London, humbly rides th' old fashion  
With half a dozen wholesome Liveries,  
To whom he gives Christian wages and not countenance  
Alone to live on, can spend by th' year  
Eight hundred pounds, and put up fine sleeps quietly  
Without dreaming on Mortgages or Statutes  
Or such like curses on his Land, can number  
May be ten thousand pound in ready coin  
Of's own, yet never bought an office for't  
Has plate no question, and Jewels too  
In's old lady's cabinet, beside  
Other things worth an Inventory, and all this  
His daughter is an heir too, now pray tell me  
What's your revenue?  Aym. 
Some 3. hundred pounds.  Wor. 
Per annum? Grant it, what expectation  
Have you abroad?  Aym. 
None.  Wor. 
That's quickly summoned.  
You have not made your love known to my Niece yet.  Aym. 
No, my intention was to preacquaint you.  Wor. 
 done wisely, do not think on her  
When y'are at prayers, she will but puzzle  
Your devotion, there's no hope of her.  Aym. 
Ha!  Wor. 
I mean for you to arrive at her, your own disparity in fortune.  Aym. 
I do find it.  Wor. 
Excuse my plainness sir, her Father looks  
A great deal higher, and to take away  
Your least encouragement, to prosecute  
Within my knowledge she's designed already  
To a wealthy Gentleman, and within few days  
'Twill be a marriage, you shall but procure  
Your own affliction to employ your hope  
Where things remain so desperate.  Aym. 
I thank you.  Wor. 
you do yourself more right.  Aym. 
If such affairs  
Have passed, it were not noble to continue  
This path, y'ave done me gentle office Sir  
I must believe y'are generous, this new flame  
My reason shall suppress, before it grow  
Too mighty for me.  Wor. 
It becomes you well,  
Love like to sin, inveterate is strong  
He prevents danger, that destroys it young.  Wor. 
Come to your friends. Exeunt.  Enter Fowler, Penelope, Clare. Fow. 
Your soft Stars will not let you be so cruel  
Lady, to give repulse to a lover.  Cla. 
Do not believe him, he does but compliment,  
I ha' known him court a hundred, with as much  
Formality, wooed 'em i'th' nuptial cut, made verses  
O' their hair, set Lilies and Roses, a whole  
Garden i'their cheeks, cherries i'their lips, stellify their eyes, and yet in a twinkling.—  Penel. 
Sure you do him wrong sir.  Clare. 
Wrong?  Fow. 
He measures my affection by the length of his own, Prithee Satire choose another walk, and leave us to enjoy this, thou know'st not my intent.  Cla. 
Thou mayst be honest with one, and that's a miracle and will ask a strong faith to believe it, I hope she has more wit than to trust your voluble courtship, I'll seek out my friend Aymwell. Vio. comes from the Arbour.  Viol. 
Sir, if your engagement require no haste.  Penel. 
I do wonder a Gentleman of your knowledge should so deceive himself.  Fow. 
Express yourself Fairest.  Penel. 
Fair sir, I am not taken with your flatteries, I can see through you.  Fow. 
If you have so active an eye Lady, you may see a throng of Passions flaming at my heart, set afire by your beauty I protest t'ee; come, shame not your wisdom to believe report or opinion ath' world, 'tis a malicious age we live in, if your ears have been abused with any ill noise, a me you shall tell yourself if you love me, the world is a shameless and miserable detractor, you do not despise me Lady.—  Penel. 
No, I pity so handsome a Gentleman, and of So fair a fortune, should want his eyes.  Fow. 
How blind?  Penel. 
To your own folly's sir.  Fow. 
Shall I swear I love you, as I am a Gentleman.  Pen. 
As you are a Gentleman, I know you can swear any thing 'tis a fashion y'are most constant in, to be religiously wicked, an oath in your mouth and a reservation in your hearts is a common Courtship, do not swear as you are a Gentleman.  Fow. 
As I am an honest man.  Penel. 
Out upon't, that's a worse, my tailor cozened me tother day with the same oath, save your credit and let swearing alone, I dare take your word.  Fow. 
Well said.  Penel. 
For a greater matter, but not for this, you and I ha' not eaten a bushel of salt yet, in time I may be converted, and think your tongue and heart keep house together, for at this time I presume they are very far asunder.  Fow. 
Would you have my tongue in my heart Lady?  Penel. 
No by my troth, I would rather find your heart in your tongue, but you are valiant, and 'tis only fear they say, brings a man's heart up to his mouth.  Fow. 
Why, your wit is a tyrant now, pray tell me do not you love me mightily now above Potatoes, come I see the little blind Boy in your eyes already.  Per. 
Love you Sir?  Fow. 
Yes, I know by your bitterness you wish me well and think there is some hope I may be won too, you take pains to whip me so handsomely, come I'll be a good child and kiss the rod.  Cla. 
You oblige my service to you, I am one  
Aymwell called friend, and shall be happy to  
Convey him any knowledge may concern him.  Vio. 
Then briefly thus I understand he loves me  
Pray you do him the true office of a friend  
And council him desist, I am disposed of  
Already in my father's thoughts, and must  
Show my obedience, he shall beget  
But his own trouble, if he move it to  
My Uncle or my Father, and perhaps  
Draw their suspicion and displeasure  
On me too, by so indiscreet proceeding,  
I would not have a Gentleman of his worth  
Do himself so great injury to run  
A course of so much hazard, if you please  
To bear the burden of my thanks for his  
On my part undeserved opinion,  
And make him sensible, in time he may  
Place his affection where he may expect  
Better return, you shall discharge a friendship  
To him, and with it make my thoughts your debtor.  Cla. 
You have expressed a nobleness in this  
Were all of your mind Lady,  
There would be less Willow worn.  Fow. 
You would ha' me praise you now, I could ramble in your commendation.  Pen. 
I think so.  Fow. 
D'ee but think so, why you shall hear me, Your hairs are Cupid's Nets, a Forehead like the fairest coast of heaven without a cloud, your eyebrow is love's bow whiles either Eye are arrows drawn to wound, your lips the Temple or sacred fane of kisses often as they mere exchanging Roses your tongue Loves lightning, neck the Milky path or throne where sit the Graces, do not I know that I have abused you all this while, or do you think I love you a thought the better, or with all my Poetical daubings can alter the complexion of a hair now.  Pen. 
I would not have you sir.  Fow. 
No dispraise te'e  
I have seen as handsome a woman  
Ride upon a sack to Market, that never knew the impulsion of a Coat or the price of a stammel petticoat, and I ha' seen a worse face in a Countess; what's that? Must ye be proud because men do call you handsome, and yet though we are so foolish to tell you so, you might have more wit than to believe it, your eyes may be matched I hope, for your nose there be richer in our sex, 'tis true that you have colour for your hair we grant it, and for your cheeks, but what do your teeth stand you in Lady, your lips are pretty but you lay 'em too open and men breathe too much upon 'em, for your tongue we all leave you there's no contesting, your hand is fine but your gloves whiter, and for your leg, if the commendation or goodness of it be in the small, there be bad enough in gentlemen's stockings to compare with it; come remember y'are imperfect creatures without a man, be not you a Goddess I know y'are mortal, and had rather make you my companion then my Idol, this is no flattery now.  Enter Worthy, Aymwell, Brains. Wor. 
Where be these Gentlemen.  Fow. 
How now Frank.  Wor. 
You look well to your charge Brains.  Bra. 
A question Sir, pray you, are you married Sir?  Cla. 
Why dost thou ask?  Bra. 
Because you should answer me  
I cannot see't in your forehead Sir,  Cla. 
How now my officious Trencher squire.  Wor. 
Excuse him Master Clare, 'tis his blunt zeal  
To do his Master service, who enjoyed  
His best care and vigilance upon this  
Gentlewoman.  Cla. 
I am married Sir.  Bra. 
Then I hope you''ve met with your match already I ha' nothing to say tee.  Cla. 
This fellow's mad.  Bra. 
Nor my Master neither, though he left his brains behind him, I hope a man may ask a question Sir.  Wor. 
Come hither Brains.  Fow. 
Am life thou art in love.  Cla. 
You are not.  Fow. 
Do not mistake yourself for I am.  Cla. 
Caught, I am glad on't.  Fow. 
No indeed not caught neither, therefore be not overjoyed good morality, why dost thou think it possible a woman's face or any thing without her can enchant me.  Bra. 
Let me alone. Exit uncle.  Cla. 
Why dost thou court 'em then.  Fow. 
Why, to try their wits with which I sharpen my own, dost think I am so mad to marry, sacrifice my liberty to a Woman, sell my patrimony to buy them Feathers and new fashions, and maintain a Gentleman Usher to ride in my saddle when I am Knighted, and pointed at with Pythagoras for my tame sufferance, ha my Wardrobe laid forth and my holiday breeches, when my Lady pleases I shall take the air in a Coach with her, together with her Dog that is costive, be appointed my table what I shall eat, according as her Ladyship finds her own body inclined, fed upon this or that Melancholy dish by prescription, guarded with officious Salads like a Prisoner in a throng, praise her beautiful allowance of course Mutton that have the world of dainty flesh before me, 'twere a sin of discretion and my own freedom.  Bra. 
Young Mistress, I observe you.  Cla. 
You do not mean to die in this faith.  Fow. 
Prithee do not talk of Dying, a pox o'the bellman and his Omnia benes, but that I think I know thy Father, I should hardly believe thou wert a Gentleman, however thy Aristotle's of ethics will make thee uncapable of their company shortly, if you Catechise thus you shall have few Gentlemen your Disciples that have any blood or spirit about 'em, there's no discourse so becoming your Gallants now, as a Horse race or Hyde-park? what lady's lips are softest? what Fashion is most terse and Courtly? what news abroad? which is, the best Vaulting house? where shall we taste Canary and be drunk too night, talk a morality— here be Ladies still, you shall hear me court one on 'em, I hope you we 'not report abroad among my friends that I love her, 'tis the love of mounting into her maidenhead I vow Jack, and nothing else.  Cla. 
Y'are a mad Lover. As Aymwell comes towards Violetta she turns and Exit.  Bra. 
That was cunningly cast about.  Fow. 
Whither is't Lady?  Pen. 
I'm walking in Sir.  Fow. 
I'll wait on you, and after that abroad, 'tis an inviting day, are you for the Coach.  Penel. 
No.  Fow. 
Or for the Couch? Take me a Companion for either.  Penel. 
Neither.  Fow. 
How neither, blame yourself if you be idle,  
Howsoever you shall not be alone, make use of  
My arm Fairest, you will to your Lute, I heard you  
Could touch it cunningly, pray bless my ears a little.  Penel. 
My Lute's broke sir.  Fow. 
A string you mean, but 'tis no matter, your voice is not, ravish a little with that, if you please I can help you to an heir by this black eye which Nature hath given you, I'll not leave you I'll follow ye. Exeunt Fowler, and Penelope.  Aym. 
All this from her?  Cla. 
You may believe me Sir.  Aym. 
Why this to him, could she not give me  
Repulse, but she must thus proclaim it, I never  
Moved it to her, her Uncle hath had no opportunity  
To acquaint her what's the Mystery,  
Prithee repeat again the substance of what she said.  Cla. 
With my best memory her words, she wished you not proceed for she was already disposed of in her Father's thoughts.  Aym. 
In her father's thoughts? Happily not in her own.  Cla. 
It would be fruitless to move her Uncle or her Father in't.  Aym. 
Ha, not move her Uncle or her Father?  
This may beget encouragement hope I may to her  
Propound my affection and be happy in't proceed.  Cla. 
She would be sorry a Gentleman of your worth  
Should run a Course of so much hazard.  Aym. 
Hazard, that word does yet imply there is a possibility.  Cla. 
So with compliment  
Of her thanks for your fair opinion of her,  
She wished me make you sensible in time  
To place your Love where you might expect  
Better return.  Aym. 
Ah that's wormwood, let me see, better return  
This last return hath spoiled the whole Term  
And undone my suit, umh? No it doth admit  
A fair Construction:  
She would ha' me sensible in time to plant  
My love where I may expect better return,  
Why? That I may from her for aught I know.  Cla. 
Amantes sibi somnia fingunt, how apt are Lovers to construe all to their desires.  Aym. 
I wonot let my Action fall.  Cla. 
Do not build Castles.  Aym. 
I'll smooth it with her Uncle, if it hit  
Oh I my blessed Stars.  Cla. 
he's a-bed already.  Aym. 
Venus assist one to thy Altar flies,  
And I'll proclaim, thy son hath found his eyes. Exeunt.  
Explicit Actus primus.    

ACTVS, II.  

Scena, I.  Enter Sir Nicholas Treedle, and a Servant. Nic. 
WHere's Martext my Chaplain.  Ser. 
He's newly walked out of his Meditation in the Kitchen, into the Garden.  Nic. 
Bid him read Prayers in the dining-room.  Serv. 
Before your Worship come?  Nic. 
I won't pray too day, dost here? Bid my Tutor come down to me.  Serv. 
Which on them.  Nic. 
Why he that reads Travail to me, the wit that I took up in Paul's in a tiffany Cloak without a hatband, now I have put him into a doublet of satin— stay he's here. Enter Tutor.  Nic. 
Morrow Tutor, what hour take you it?  Tu. 
It is no hour at all Sir.  Nic. 
How?  Tu. 
Not directly any hour, for it is between 8. and 9. Sir.  Nic. 
Very learnedly than I was ready between Six and sevens too day.  Tu. 
Are you disposed for Lecture.  Nic. 
Yes, yes Sir.  Tu. 
You remember my last prelection of the Division  
Of the Earth into parts Real and Imaginary:  
The parts real into Continent and Island,  
The subdivision of the Continent, into Peninsula,  
isthmus, and Promontory.  Nic. 
In troth Sir, I remember some such things but I have forgotten 'em.  Tu. 
What is an isthmus?  Nic. 
Why an isthmus, is an Elbow of land.  Tu. 
A Neck, a neck.  Nic. 
A neck? Why I was near it, if you had let me alone, I should have come up to't.  Tu. 
'Twas well guessed, what's an Island?  Nic. 
An Island is an high Mountain, which shooteth itself into the Sea.  Tu. 
That's a Promontory.  Nic. 
Is't so? An Island then is, no matter let it go, 'tis not the first Island we ha' lost.  Tu. 
How are you perfect in your Circles? Great & less, Mutable and immutable, Tropical and Polar.  Nic. 
As perfect in them as I am in these, faith I shall never con these things handsomely, may not a man study Travail without these Circles, Degrees and altilatitudes you speak of?  Tu. 
Yes, you may.  Nic. 
I do not care for the nearest way, I ha' time enough to go about.  Tu. 
Very well, you shall lay aside your Globe then.  Nic. 
ay, and if please you I will have it stand in my hall to make my Tenants wonder instead of the book of Martyrs.  Tu. 
It will do well, now name what Kingdom or Province you have most mind to.  Nic. 
What say you to England.  Tut. 
By no means, it is not in fashion with Gentlemen to study their own Nation, you will discover a dull easiness if you admire not and with admiration prefer not the weeds of other regiments before the most pleasant flowers of your own garden, let your judgement reflect upon a serious consideration who teaches you the minikin posture of your body, the punctuality of your beard, the formality of your pace, the elbows of your cloak, the heel of your boot, do not other nations? Are not Italian heads Spanish shoulders, Dutch bellies, and French legs, the only Notions of your reformed English Gentlemen.  Nic. 
I am resolved to be ignorant of my own country say no more on't, what think you if I went over to France the first thing I did.  Tu. 
By Sea.  Nic. 
D'ee think I ha' no more wit than to venture myself i'th' salt water, I had rather be pickled and powdered at home by half that I had.  Tutor 
I apprehend you are cautious, it is safe travelling in your study, but I will not read France to you.  Nic. 
No?  Tu. 
Pardonne moy it is unnecessary, all the French fashions are here already or rather your French cuts.  Nic. 
Cuts?  Tu. 
Understand me, there are divers French cuts.  Nic. 
We have had too many French cuts already.  Tu. 
First, there is your cut of the head.  Ni. 
That's dangerous.  Tu. 
Pshaw a hair a hair, a periwig is your French cut and in fashion with your most courtly Gallants, your own hair will naturally forsake you.  Nic. 
A bald reason.  Tu. 
Right observed their prudent and weighty policy who have brought up this artificial headpiece, because no man should appear light headed.  Nic. 
He had no sound head that invented it.  Tu. 
Then there is the new cut of your doublet or slash the Fashion of your apparel a quaint cut.  Nic. 
Upon Taffety.  Tu. 
Or what you please, the slash is the emblem of your valour, and beside declareth that you are open breasted.  Nic. 
Open as much as you will but no valour.  Tu. 
Then Sir, there is the cut of your leg.  Nic. 
That's when a man is drunk, is it not?  Tu. 
Do not stagger in your judgement, for this cut is the grace of your body, I mean dancing o'th' French cut i'th' leg is most fashionable, believe it pupil a gentile carriage.  Nic. 
But it is fain to be supported sometime with a bottom. Enter Servant.  Ser. 
Here is Sir George Richley Sir newly alighted.  Nic. 
Oh my Father in law that shallbe.  Tu. 
Then we are cut off.  Nic. 
There is a match concluded between his daughter and me and now he comes for my answer conduct him to the gallery.  Tu. 
Rather Sir meet him.  Nic. 
Let him go before and tell him we are coming and we'll be there as soon as he. Exeunt.  Enter Brains, Whible. Whi. 
Brains.  Bra. 
What's the matter.  Whi. 
let's rifle the other bottle of wine.  Bra. 
Do not endanger thy sconce.  Whi. 
How?  Bra. 
I'll drink no more.  Whib. 
Why?  Br. 
Because I will not be drunk for any man's pleasure.  Wh. 
Drunk?  Br. 
'tis good English now, 'twas Dutch, may be you ha' some conspiracy upon me.  Wh. 
I? Who has betrayed me? his Mistress procured the Key of the wine-cellar, and bade me try if I could wind up his brains handsomely, he knows on't not one health more.  Br. 
Not, not, good Whible if you urge again I shall suspect.  Wh. 
Suspect me?  Br. 
And beat you Whible if you be not satisfied.  Wh. 
I am, but in friendship.  Br. 
Dost tempt me?  Wh. 
I will drink your health and be drunk alone.  Br. 
This whelp has some plot upon men, I smell powder my young Mistress would have blown up my brains this Peter-gunner should have given fire, 'tis not the first time she hath conspired so but two not do, I was never yet cozened in my life, and if I pawn my brains for a bottle of Sack, or Claret, may my nose as a brand for my negligence carry everlasting malmsey in it, and be studded with Rubies and Carbuncles, Mistress you must pardon my officiousness, be as angry as a Tiger I must play the Dragon and watch your golden fleece, my Master has put me in trust and I am not so easily corrupted. I ha' but two eyes Argus had a hundred, but he must be a cunning Mercury must pipe them both asleep I can tell you. And now I talk of sleep, my lodging is next to her chambers, it is a confidence in my Master to let his Livery lie so near her, serving-men have ere now proved themselves no Eunuchs, with their Masters Daughters, if I were so lusty as some of my own tribe, it were no great labour to commit Burglary upon a Maiden head, but all my nourishment runs upward into brains and I am glad on't, a temperate blood is sign of a good Liver, I am past tilting, here she is with the second part of her to the same tune, another maid that has a grudging of the green sickness. and wants a man to recover her.  Enter Violeta and Penelope. Pen. 
Be this enough between us to bind each to help others designs.  Vio. 
here's Breynes, he has not yet been drenched.  Pe. 
He is too subtle.  Vio. 
How now brains?  Br. 
As you see forsooth.  Pen. 
Thou art very sad.  Br. 
But I am in sober sadness I thank my stars.  Vi. 
Witty.  Br. 
As much wit as will keep brains from melting this hot weather.  Pen. 
A dry whore-son not thus to be wrought upon!  Br. 
Very good Sack and Claret i'th' house.  Pen. 
Thou hast not tasted.  Bre. 
Oyes, oyes, my brains swim in Canary, exceedingly excellent Sack I thank ye Ladies, I know 'tis your pleasure I should not want o'th' best blood o'th' grape in hope there might be a stone in my cup to mar my drinking afterwards. Enter Sensible.  
Mistress Sensible what igge i'th' wind she moves so nimbly.  Pen. 
From whom?  Sen. 
Master Fowler.  Bre. 
A Letter? whence flew that paper kite.  Pen. 
What this?  Br. 
another enclosed without direction happily observed.  Pen, 
If you can love I will study to deserve and be happy to give you proof of my service, in the mean time it shallbe a testimony of your favour to deliver this inclosed paper to your cousin from her servant Aymwell, farewell and remember Fowler, look you cozen what Mr. Fowler writes, I dare trust you with the secret at your opportunity peruse this paper.  Bre. 
Conveyances, I read juggling in that paper already, and though you put it up I woe not oh, for so much Magic to conjure that paper out of her bosom into my pocket now I do long to know what pitiful lover for it can be no other, is doing penance in that white sheet already, Mistress Sensible hark ye; whence came that letter?  Sen. 
From Master Fowler to my Mistress.  Br. 
It is a she Letter it seems.  Sen. 
A she Letter why so?  Bre. 
Because it had a young one itt'h belly on't, or I am much mistaken.  Pen. 
Does he not write like a bold gamester?  Br. 
And a bowling gamester too, for his bias was towards my Mistress, but I may chance to cast a rub in his way to keep him from kissing.  Vio. 
He hath very good parts in him questionless, but do you love him.  Br. 
O the cunning of these Gypsies, how when they list they can talk in a distinguishable dialect, they call men foxes but they make, tame geese a some on us, and yet like one a those in Rome I may prove so happy to preserve your distressed Capitol, what news brings this Kickshaw.  Enter Winifred. Win. 
Master Fowler desires to speak with you.  Bre. 
Already he might ha' delivered his own Letter.  Vio. 
I'll to my Chamber  Bre. 
It will do very well.  Vio. 
I hope you willbe careful that I am not troubled with any visit of Gentlemen, it will become your officiousness good Dametas to have a care of your charge Pamela.  Br. 
So, I can suffer this jeer. Exit.  Vio. 
Ha? is he gone? I'm glad on't, I'll take this opportunity to read the Paper, Master Aymwell sent me no superscription?  Enter Breines. Bre. 
she's at it already, thus far off I can read her countenance if she spare her voice.  Vio. 
I do not court your fortune but your love,  
If my wild apprehension of it, prove  
My error, punish gently, since the fire  
Came from yourself that kindled my desire.  
So my poor heart full of expectance lies  
To be your servant or your sacrifice.  Vio. 
It shall be answered. Exit.  Bre. 
It shall, the games a foot, were I best to discover thus much, or reserve it to welcome home the old Knight withal, I'll be more familiar with this juggling, first, the Scrivener has a Name and if he be worth his own ears he shall be worth my discovery.  Enter Fowler, and Penelope. 
Here comes the Gallant and the other toy now.  Pen. 
I received your Letter Sir?  Fow. 
In good time.  Pen. 
You might have spared your hand a labour, if you had resolved to put your feet upon this expedition.  Bre. 
Good.  Fow. 
I confess I wrote something in my own cause, but the chief cause was to convey my friend's affection to his Mistress.  Bre. 
And I will convey your affection to somebody else.  Pen 
Then you made me a property. Exit.  Fow. 
'Tis for your honour if you help any way to advance an honest business, and yet mistake me not though the Rack should enforce from me without a second reason I had not wrote to you, yet for so much as concerned myself by this kiss, my pen hath but set down the resolution of my heart to serve you.  Pen. 
To serve me, how?  Fow. 
How? why any way, give me your Livery I'll wear it, or a Coat with a Cognizance by this light, I fear you are an Heretic still and do not believe as you should do, come let me rectify your Faith, serve you.  Pen. 
Since the Compliment of Service came up, Gentlemen have had excuse for their love: I would not have you serve me Sir.  Fow. 
Not serve you? Why d'ee think a man cannot love and serve too.  Pen. 
Not one serve two, well.  Fow. 
You are too literal, and yet i'th' strict sense I ha' known a woman has served half a dozen Gentlemen handsomely, so, so, and yet the last had enough of her too, why should not one man serve two Gentlewomen, it argues against your Sex, that you are more insatiable ath' two, but I have a simple affection I protest and individual, I'll ne'er serve but one.  Penel. 
But one at once.  Fow. 
But one at once, and but one always, by this Diamond.  Penel. 
Nay keep your oath Sir.  Fow. 
I am forsworn if I do not, for I vowed before I came to bestow it, come wear it in your bosom, it shall be an earnest of more precious jewels, though not of so bright a lusty that will follow.  Penel. 
I pray Sir resolve me one thing, and be plain, Do you love me?  Fow. 
Love you?  Pen. 
'Tis my question.  Fow, 
'Tis a very foolish one, to what purpose have I been talking all this while, that you make it a question, has not it been the Theme of all my discourse hitherto, that I do love you.  Pen. 
In what sense?  Fow. 
In what sense? Why in any sense at your own choice, or in all the senses together and you doubt me: I do love to see your face, hear your voice, smell your breath, touch your tree, and taste your golden Apples.  Pen. 
But this does not satisfy me.  Fow. 
You do not doubt my sufficiency dee?  Pen. 
Now you're immodest, I only asked if you love me.  Fow. 
And ha' not I told you? Pray teach me a better way to express it. Does a Wiseman love fool's fortune, and a Nobleman another beside my Lady? Does the Devil love an Usurer, a Great man his Flatterer, the Lawyer a Full Term, or the Physician a dead time to thrive in.  Pen. 
Spare yourself this is but course love.  Fow. 
I'll spin it finer and finer every day Sweet, to be plain with thee, what dost thou think of me for a husband, I love thee that way.  Pen. 
Would you did else.  Fow. 
Is there my thing in me would commend itself, that I may spare my other commendations, for I am resolved to be yours at any rate of my own praise, or what I can purchase from my friends.  Pen. 
Sir, if your meaning be no stranger to your language, although I cannot promise myself, you bind me to be thankful for it.  Fow. 
She nibbles already.  Pen. 
But pardon me if I suspect you still, you are too wild and airy to be constant to that affection.  Enter Breines, and Worthy. Bra. 
There be the Pigeons.  Wor. 
An't be no worse I care not, Mr. Fowler  
A most welcome Friend.  Fow. 
I would be to your daughter.  Bra. 
Let her use to entertain him so, and he'll bid himself welcome, hark you sir, you do like his company?  Wor. 
Yes.  Bra. 
So I say, but if I were worthy to give your daughter counsel she should have a special care how she treads, for if this Gentleman be not a Whoremaster, he is very like one; and if she chance any way to crack her Venice-glass, 'twill not be so easily soldered.  Wor. 
Meddle with your charge Sir, and let her alone.  Bra. 
I have done, here is a fresh Gamester. Enter Mr. Manley.  Man. 
By your noble leave.  Wor. 
You're welcome Sir.  Man. 
I was directed hither to find a Gentleman.  Fow. 
Manly how is't?  Manl. 
I was to inquire for you at your lodging.  Fow. 
Pray know this gentleman Lady Master Worthy he'll deserve your acquaintance.  Man. 
You oblige my services— but what make you here my woman ferreter.  Wor. 
Come hither Penelope.  Fow. 
Soliciting a cause of Venus.  Man. 
I suspect as much, but with her? is she a whore?  Fow. 
No but I'll do the best to make her one,  
She loves me already, that's some engagement  
I dare trust thee with my sins, who's here  
Aymwell and Clare. Enter Mr. Aymwell, Mr. Clare, Brains.  Wor. 
Withdraw yourself.  Fow. 
Frank.  Aym. 
Master Worthy.  Wor. 
A knot of friends.  Aym. 
What of my letter?  Fow. 
'Tis delivered you must expect.  Wor. 
What news gentlemen?  Aym. 
We hear none, you visit the Exchange Sir, pray furnish us.  Br. 
What do all these Butterflies here, I do not like it.  Aym. 
I hope your daughter is in health.  Wor. 
Perfect, I thank Heaven.  Aym. 
And your Niece at whose naming I'm bold to tender my thanks for your last friendship, I might have plunged by this time into passion had not you nobly, just as I was falling prevented my unhappiness.  Wor. 
Your opinion of what I did, gives value to the action, however 'twas a duty I was bound to.  Bra. 
This is the youth, I'll pawn my brains, hark you Sir, what do you call this Gentleman.  Cla. 
Master Aymwell.  Bra. 
He may shoot short for all his aiming,  
He wears Bachelors buttons does he not.  Cl. 
Yes, old trupeny and loops too, thou art jealous now.  Bra. 
One word more.  Fow. 
I have a plot and thou must help me.  Man. 
Let it be a safe one.  Aym. 
May we not see her?  Wor. 
Brains where's thy Mistress?  Bra. 
She's a little busy.  Fow. 
Who's that.  Wor. 
my Niece.  Fow. 
And she be but a little busy she's more than half at leisure.  Bra. 
Do not you know that a Woman is more troubled with a little business, than some man with managing the troubles of a whole common wealth, it has been a proverb, as busy as a Hen with one chicken, marry and she had twenty, twenty to one she would not be so fond on'em.  Wor. 
He says right, Gentlemen, we are friends, it is my brother's pleasure who is her father, to deny frequent access to her, till he hath finished a design, for my part, I am not of his mind, nor shall my daughter be a prisoner to his fancy, you see Sir I do not seclude her, if she choose within any limits of reason, I move in her.  Aym. 
You speak nobly.  Enter Whible. Whi. 
Sir George Richley Sir, and Sir Nicholas are newly arrived.  Wor. 
My brother, acquaint my Niece.  Bra. 
'tis my office I'll do it— Exit.  Man. 
Shall's stay?  Aym. 
By all means let's see the doughty Knight that must free the Lady from her Enchanted Castle.  Cla. 
Didst ever see him?  Aym. 
No, but I have heard his character.  Man. 
Prithee let's ha''t.  Aym. 
They say he's one, was wise before he was a man for then his folly was , but since he came to be of age, which had been a question till his death, had not the Law given him his Father's Lands, he is grown wicked enough to be a Landlord, he does pray but once a year and that's for fair weather in harvest, his inward senses are sound, for none comes from him he speaks words but no matter, and therefore is in Election to be of the Peace and Quorum, which his Tenants think him fit for, and his tutor's judgement allows, whom he maintains to make him legs and speeches, he feeds well himself, but in obedience to government, he allows his Servants fasting days; he loves Law, because it killed his Father, whom the Parson overthrew in a case of Tithes; and in memory, wears nothing suitable, for his Apparel is a or the ruins of ten fashions, he does not much care for Heaven, for he's doubtful of any such place, only Hell he's sure of, for the Devil sticks to his Conscience, therefore he does purpose when he dies, to turn his sins into Almshouses, that posterity may praise him for his bountiful of hot Pottage, but he's here already, you may read the rest as he comes towards you. Enter Sir George, Sir Nicholas, Tut.  Wor. 
Brother.  Rich. 
Let your kindest respects meet this Gentleman.  Wor. 
Sir Nicholas Treedle, I desire you would write me in the number of your Servants.  Nic. 
'Tis granted, Gentlemen I have an ambition to be your eternal slave.  Fow. 
'Tis granted.  Tut. 
And I to be an everlasting Rascal.  Aym. 
'Tis granted.  Cla. 
A couple of Cockaloches.  Enter Penelope, Violetta, Winifred, Sensible, and Breines. Rich. 
Here comes my Daughter.  Nic. 
Lady and Mistress of my heart, which hath long melted for you.  Rich. 
This is my Daughter.  Nic. 
Then it melted for you Lady.  Fow. 
His heart is whole again.  Nic. 
Vouchsafe to entertain a Servant, that shall study to command.  Tut. 
Well said.  Nic. 
His extremest possibilities— in your business.  Aymw. 
Abominable Courtship.  Sens. 
Sir, I am Servant to Mistress Violetta, who commends this Paper to you.  Aym. 
O my best Angel.  Bre. 
As the Devil would have it, are you there Sensible.  Fow. 
Mr. Worthy I take my leave.  Wor. 
Will you not stay supper.  Man. 
we are engaged.  Aym. 
My service shall wait on you Gentlemen.  Clare 
And mine.  Nic. 
Come on my Queen of Diamonds.  Fow. 
Master Worthy I take my leave.  Wor. 
Will you not stay supper.  Man. 
We are engaged.  Aym. 
My service shall wait on you Gentlemen.  Cla. 
And mine.  Nic. 
Come on my Queen of Diamonds.  Rich. 
Brother lead the way. Exeunt.  Bra. 
If she carry away this letter so, call me shallow-brains, I was never yet cozened in my life, this night? it shall be so, I will not come with bare relation of your plots,  
I'll bring active intelligence that shall tell  
Your secret aims, so crush 'em in the shell.  Exit:   

ACTVS. III.  

Scena, I.  While the Music is playing enter Breynes without his shoes with a Letter in his band. Br. 
Sure this is it, my Mistress and her maid are both fast still, I ha' watched under the bed all night, to rob her pocket of this paper, and I ha' done't, some fellow at this opportunity would have wriggled himself into one of their flesh.  Vio. 
Who's there? Sensible.  Bre. 
Death her tongue is awake already.  Vio. 
Who's i'the chamber.  Bre. 
Help me brains, before she wakes the other, 'tis I forsooth but looking for the chamberpot. Counterfeits Sensibles voice.  Vio. 
Beshrew you for your noise.  Bra. 
Where's the door— stumbles.  Sen. 
Who's there?  Bra. 
The other spirit is raised i'th' Trundlebed  
What will become o'me now. Enter Sensible.  Sen. 
Here's nobody.  Vio. 
Make an end and get thee to bed.  Sen. 
An end of what, does she talk in her sleep, she was not wont.  Bre. 
So, so, ha the spring is open  
I might forget to make it fast last night,  
'Tis so, and happily some Cur or Cat  
Has been i'the chamber, for I hear a noise  
About the door, I'll make it fast  
And so to bed again, I think it is day already. Exit.  Enter Tutor in his gown as from his study. Tu. 
So this fancy wrote, for Sir Nicholas like a forked  
Arrow points two ways, wenches are caught with  
Such conceits, they will imagine't none of his  
Invention, than whose but mine my person does invite  
More acceptation, but the Father aims  
At the estate, no matter if I can  
Insinuate myself into her opinion  
'Tis no impossibility, her portion  
Will be enough for both, shall I live still  
dependent and not seek ways to advance my  
Self, busy my brains in ballads to the giddy  
Chambermaids, beggar myself with purse and pincase  
When she that is the Mistress may be mine  
'twill be a Master piece if I can gull him,  
But he's here already. Enter Sir Nicholas.  Nic. 
Noble Tutor, Morrow to you, hay finished  
The whimsy for my Mistress already?  Tu. 
I ha' done't, this paper carries the Love powder.  Nic. 
For fear you had forgotten me, I ha' made a quibbling in praise of her myself, such a one as will fetch up her heart Tutor.  Tu. 
That were a dangerous vomit Sir, take heed of that.  Nic. 
ay but I will not hurt her I warrant thee, and she die within a twelvemonth and a day I'll be hanged for her.  Tu. 
Will you Sir.  Nic. 
Marry will I, look you Sir. But first let me see yours, can you not write it in my own hand, I shall hardly read it.  Tut. 
I'll read it to you.  Nic. 
Sir George Give me't.  Enter Sir George, and M. Worthy. Rich. 
See they are at it.  Nic. 
And how do you like it.  Wor. 
Morrow noble Sir Nicholas.  Ric. 
Morrow Gentlemen.  Nic. 
Morrow to you both, Sir George I ha' been making Poetry this morning.  Tut. 
He has a subtle fancy.  Rich. 
What's the subject?  Tu. 
No subject, but the Queen of his affections.  Nic. 
I scorn subjects, 'tis my Empress your daughter's Muse hath set my muse on fire.  Tu. 
read Sir.  Nic. 
No, you shall read 'em for me.  Tu. 
'Tis a hue and cry Sir.  Ric. 
A hue & cry, for what?  Nic. 
For what, why for somewhat I'll warrant you.  Tut. 
You may call it Loves hue and cry.  Nic. 
Call it what you will, I know what 'tis.  Wor. 
Are you so Poetical.  Nic. 
I ha' been dabbling in Helicon, next to travail 'tis all my study mark the invention.  Tutor reads. 

In love's name you are charged hereby  
To make a speedy hue and cry,  
After a face who other day  
Came and stole my heart away;  
For your directions in brief  
These are best marks to know the thief:  
Her hair a net of beams would prove,  
Strong enough to Captive jove:  
Playing the Eagle, her clear brow  
Is a comely field of snow,  
A sparkling Eye, so pure a grey  
As when it shines it needs no day:  
Ivory dwelleth on her nose  
Lily married to the rose,  
Have made her Cheek the nuptial bed  
Lips betray their virgin's weed  
As they only blushed for this  
That they one another kiss,  
But observe beside the rest  
You shall know this felon best  
By her Tongue, for if your Ear  
Shall once a heavenly Music hear  
Such as neither Gods nor men  
But from that voice shall hear, again  
That that is she, Oh take her t'ee  
None can rock heaven asleep but she.   Nic. 
How do you like my pippin of Parnassus Gentlemen.  Ric. Wor. 
Very handsome.  Nic. 
nam, I'll warrant you, my Tutor has good furniture in him.  Wor. 
I do not think he made 'em.  Nic. 
Now you shall hear some verses of my own making.  Rich. 
Your own, did you not make these?  Tu. 
He betrays himself.  Nic. 
Hum? yes I made 'em too my Tutor knows.  Tu. 
I'll take my oath who made 'em.  Nic. 
But I wrote 'em for another gentleman that had a Mistress.  Ric. 
My daughter you said.  Nic. 
I may say so, but that their faces are nothing alike, you would hardly know one from tother, for your better understanding I will read 'em myself— Her foot.  Wor. 
D'ee begin there?  Nic. 
Oh, I will rise by degrees.  
Her foot is feat with Diamond toes  
But she with legs of Ruby goes:  
Thighs Loadstones, and do draw unto her  
The Iron pin of any wooer.  Wor. 
Precious conceit.  Nic. 
Her head.  Ric. 
Her head?  Wor. 
You were between her thighs but now.  Nic. 
'tis my conceit, I do now mean to go downwards again, and meet where I left in the middle.  

Her head is Opal, neck of sapphire,  
Breast Carbuncles, shine like a fire.  
And the naked truth to tell you,  
The very mother of Pearl her belly:  
How can she chose but hear my groans,  
That is composed of precious stones.   Wo. 
I marry Sir.  Nic. 
Now if you liked you may.  Wo. 
A word with you Sir, pray what d'ee think of your pupil.  Tu. 
I think nothing Sir.  Wo. 
But deal ingeniously, your opinion.  Tu. 
Shall I tell you?  Wo. 
Pray Sir.  Tu. 
Nothing.  Wo. 
I think so too, what doth my Brother mean to make this fond Election.  Tu. 
For my own part you hear me say nothing, but the good parts and qualities of men are to be valued.  Wo. 
This fellow's a Knave, I smell him.  Tutor 
Some thing has some savour.  Ni. 
When you please, name your own time  
I'm ready to be married at midnight.  Ric. 
About a seven-night hence.  Nic. 
Let it be 3. or 4. I care not how soon, is breakfast ready.  Ric. 
It waits upon you.  Nic. 
I do love to eat and drink in a morning, though I fast all day after.  Ric. 
I'll follow brother.  Wo. 
we'll both attend. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Aymwell with a Letter. Aym. 
This opportunity, let my covetous eye,  
Take to enrich itself, but first prepare  
With reverence, as to an Altar bring  
No careless but Religious beams along  
With you to this new object, this small paper  
Carries the volume of my humane fate  
I hold my destiny, betwixt two fingers  
And thus am I wrapped up without a name  
Being or expectation of world's joy  
More than this table (when the curtains drawn)  
Presents in Character to my thirsty eye sight,  
Hail thou ambassador from thine and my  
Mistress, bringing peace or unkind war  
Thou Emblem of her whiteness which I kiss  
And thus again salute. Enter Boy and Clare.  Boy. 
Then he's alone.  Cla. 
So leave us.  Aym. 
Coming from her  
Can it be guilty of defiance to me  
Had she not meant me happy she had given  
My letter to the flame, and with it I  
In those thin ashes had been buried,  
Nor had she deigned this answer with the circumstance  
At my receiving prompts me to believe  
Gracious the gentle messenger command it  
Not as a thing she wooed a public, but  
With eyes full of suspicion which had been  
Needless, had she contemned my service.  
So smilingly departed, Thus I sent my paper  
Which what but love taught her to imitate  
Without a superscription, Oh Clare welcome,  
Welcome to that heart dance i'thy bosom  
If thou be'st a friend and canst rejoice to know me  
Happy, you thought me ridiculous and that I did  
With too much flattery of myself, expound your story  
Had I been like thee of Frosty apprehension and cold  
Phlegmatic judgement, I had missed a blessing  
That wanton jove would have been Rival for  
Dost see this paper?  Cla. 
Nothing in the outside.  Aym. 
'tis inly precious.  Cla. 
You have not searched the  
Lining that you promise so.  Aym. 
I see through it, hast thou not heard the perfect Magnes  
Will although enclosed within an ivory box,  
Through the white wall shoot forth embracing virtue  
To the loved needle, I can read it Clare  
And read a joy in't that transports me, this  
Came from my Mistress, having touched her hand  
Whence it received a whiteness hath it not  
Brought incense to dispersing a rich breath  
Sweeter than Arabian spicery  
About the room, in which while it remains  
we suck in perfumed air, it came from her  
My honest Clare, from her she whose rare wit taught  
When in thy dull opinion I was lost,  
My apprehension a new hope to thrive  
In my ambitious love, excellent women  
The top of all creation I shall be  
At once too happy, unrip thou the seal  
Read it, and let thy voice convey it gently  
lest I be surfeited, but why should any  
Be honoured to receive her  
But I, to whom she hath directed it,  
By thy leave silent paper, confident  
Of bless I open my Elysium  
And let my soul into it— ha. Reads  
Laden with mighty hopes how despondent  
Have I launched forth and find a storm.  Cla. 
What's this? Your own Letter returned  
Can it be otherwise than in scorn.  Aym. 
In scorn.  Cla. 
ha' you not now cause of triumph, who is now the truer Prophet, you would nourish hope in spite of reason, now you feel a punishment in her derision.  Aym. 
Is this credible.  Cla. 
Credible? 'Tis no wonder in a woman  
Though she had promised, vowed affection to you  
It had not been a miracle to find  
A Change in their affection, yet you cannot  
Accuse her much.  Aym. 
Appeared I so unworthy  
That 'mong so many ways she had to express  
At what poor value she esteemed my proffered  
Service, her pride could find out none but this  
To send me mine own again.  Cla. 
Do but imagine  
You sent a servant with a message to her,  
She not within, he is returned again  
Without an answer.  Aym. 
Incivility,  
She might have thanked me, and subscribed her name,  
I was not bound to her observance.  Cla. 
Come be free again.  Aym. 
I will be so, with this  
That I could cancel my affection.  Cla. 
What do you mean, it having touched her hand  
Is full of incense and Arabian spicery  
You are too prodigal of your perfume.  Aym. 
Do not thou mock me too.  Cla. 
Well, I ha' done.  Aym. 
Would I had so I cannot empty all  
My torment, wherefore should a man love woman  
Such airy mockeries, nothing but mere Echoes  
That owe their being to our opinion  
And in reward of honouring them, send back  
As scornfully the language we bestowed.  
Out of our too much dotage.  Cla. 
If they send,  
All they receive from us, accuse them not  
We have our hearts again.  Aym. 
And I'll have mine,  
I will, I ha' not yet, here wants a guest  
Invite him home again, Why should not I  
Be as coy as she, and with as much neglect  
Throw her behind my thoughts, instruct me with  
Witty revenge, and thou that see me toss  
This shuttlecock with as much pride, and when  
I'm sated with this sport, let fall this vanity  
Into as low disdain, Pshaw.  Cla. 
Nobly resolved.  Aym. 
Come to a Tavern, drench the memory  
Of these poor thoughts.  Cla. 
Let's seek out Master  
Fowler and Manly.  Aym. 
And warmed with sack, we'll try  
Who can make satyrs best.  Cla. 
A match, let's to 'em.  Enter Master Fowler, Manly like his Physician. Fow. 
And thou dost not play the Doctor handsomely, I'll set the College of Physicians upon thee for practising without a licence.  Man. 
Can you be sick?  Fow. 
I would but counterfeit.  Man. 
So must I the Physician.  Fow. 
I have known a spruce Empiric hath given his patient 2 or 3. stools with the bare repetition of crude words, and knotty sentences, which have come from him like a Phlegm, which besides the operation in the hearers, who admire him for't, while he beats like a drum, at their barrel head, and turns their brains like beer, does him the benefit to scour his own dirty maw, whose dregs else would putrify; and infest his cheeks worse than a gangrene.  Man. 
Are you sure she will visit you?  Fow. 
As sure as I am well, for and I were sick and would sleep, I would rather, take a nap o'th' ridge of Aetna, and thee fall of deafening Nilus, then endure the visitation, of any of their tribe— one knocks, my pillow and lay my head in the aching posture. One knocks  Enter Aymwell and Clare. Man. 
'tis Aymwell and Clare.  Aym. 
Where's my witty Bacchanalian, how now? what means this Apothecary's shop about thee, art Physical?  Fow. 
Sick, sick.  Aym. 
Didst not look in a glass today? how scurvily this nightcap shows upon thee.  Cla. 
What's the disease?  Man. 
A fever Sir.  Aym. 
Hang fevers, let's to the Tavern, and inflame ourselves, with lusty wine, suck in the spirit of Sack, till we be Delphic and prophecy my bully rook.  Fow. 
Alas.  Aym. 
Alas, is that the disease, Drench her, drench her in sack, sick for a lass, do not fool thyself beyond the cure of Bedlam, be wise and well again.  Fow. 
You are merry, it seems you have won the Lady.  Aym. 
What Lady? the Lady i'th' Lobster, I was half sick for foolish thing called a woman, a toy took me i'th' head, and had like to have taken away my heart too but I ha' recovered, do not trust thy body with a Physician, he'll make thy foolish bones go without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soul walk without a body a seven night after.  Man. 
These are no Doctors?  Aym. 
Doctor! art a Parisian, a Paduan, or a Leaden Doctor?  
How many and be true to us hast thou killed the last  
Spring, will it puzzle thy arithmetic, my precious  
Rectifier of nature, the wrong way,— faith  
Thou must excuse me Jack that I cannot condole  
With thee, by this whey beard of Esculapius, I dare  
Not endanger myself with so much melancholy  
lest I fall into a relapse— whom have we here?  Enter Whibble and Penelepe. Wo. 
'tis reported that Master Fowler is sick and keeps his chamber, I hope he's within.  Pen. 
Noble Sir.  Aym. 
Fair Lady.  Pen. 
How fare you Sir?  Fow. 
The better to see you here.  Man. 
Upon the entrance of this Gentlewoman, I find your grief much altered.  Pen. 
Upon mine?  Man. 
Yes, and by that I dare presume to say you are the cause of his distemper.  Pen. 
I Sir?  Pow. 
A cunning Doctor  Man. 
For I observed so soon as his searching eye had fastened on her, his labouring pulse that through his Fever did, before stick hard, and frequent now exceeds in both these differences and this Galen himself found true upon a woman, that had doted upon a Fencer.  Cla. 
I?  Whi. 
she did long for other bout then,  Fow. 
Give us leave pray.  Aym. 
A very pretty fellow,  Cla. 
Well skilled i'th' pulse.  Aym. 
You know my disease too d'ee not? will not my complexion give you the hint on't  Man. 
You are not very well.  Aym. 
How Sir?  Man. 
By your favour you will come to't.  Aym. 
To what?  Man. 
To a burning Fever— is there not one woman in the world.  Aym. 
I think there is, and too much of that, what then what conclude you?  Man. 
Nothing but Syrup of Violet, would comfort you going to bed.  Aym. 
Violet?  Cla. 
Has given't you.  Fow: 
It does me good Lady to feel you by— the hand.  Pen: 
Would it were in my power to recover you.  Fow: 
The Doctor I thank him has taken pains with me, but he says— nothing will do me good.  Pen: 
Nothing?  Fow: 
But that, which is another sickness to reveal.  Pen: 
Pray Sir acquaint me.  Fow. 
I know you love me.  
I have a great mind and 'twere but for two or 3. Minutes, to have a maid warm my bed.  Pen. 
That may be done.  Fow. 
With her body— else 'twill do me no good the Doctor says— to put life in some of my limbs, a little virgin warmth would do't.  Pen. 
You have a burning Fever.  Fow. 
But now and then I have such cold fits again— and 'tis the doctor's opinion— a very learned man.  Pen. 
A learned Pander.  Man. 
He's at it.  Fow. 
Doctor.  Cla.. 
Again passionate.  Aym: 
Why, I may love her name without offence, to you, why did he waken my remembrance I had forgotten her.  Cla: 
Think upon her scorn then.  Aym: 
I ha' done, and till I hear her name again I will throw this dulness off.  Cla: 
let's choose another subject  
How closely they consult, the Doctor is in a fit of counsel I suspect some juggling— he comes of, I'll gauge a limb this fellow's an impostor.  Aym. 
Is there not much danger in him?  Man. 
Within two minutes Gentlemen, I have discovered happier symptoms.  Aym. 
So Sir.  Man 
The redundant choleric matter.  Aym. 
'tis no matter Sir.  Man 
I think you do not love him.  Cla 
Pursue it.  Aym. 
What shall I give to poison him?  Man 
How?  Aym. 
Would he were in Heaven, d'ye like well of this complexion.  Man 
It shall hire me to kill your Father  Pen 

To show how much I value sir your life  
For I believe you do not mock, soon as  
Your strength will give you leave to visit me  
At my Father's house, where I can command  
An opportunity, my true love shall  
Present you with your wishes, my maid only.  
Shall be of council to admit you, but  
You'll make me satisfaction by marriage.   Fow 
At a minute's warning.  Pen 
One thing more, ere I give up my honour, I will have your oath no other woman hath enjoyed your person.  Fow 
Willingly, 'las I could near be tempted, and but that there is a kind of necessity.  Pen 
Be confident of my best love.  Fow 

Seal it now,  
I feel my spirits gather force already,  
My blood shake off the corrupt humour, ha'?  
What an I go home wi'ye Lady?   Pen 
Y'are pretty well already, than you may excuse our meeting.  Fow 
Ho, no, no, we are all apt to flatter ourselves, farewell sweet Lady,—— if I live I'll see you, if I die——  Pen 
Whible——  Whi. 
At hand and foot to do you service.  Exeunt. Aym. 
You will poison him.  Man 
He is dead, as you find me in this, let me ha' your custom.  Aym. 
You quick salving Rogue.  Man 
Do, be valiant.  Mauly discovers. Fow 
A stratagem my noble Tully, a stratagem, she's my own, the castle of comfort is yielding up, I see it prostrate already, my valiant Engineer.  Cla 
The old humour; now has he the promise of some Maidenhead.  Fow 
The believing Creature could not hold out.  Aym. 
If you thrive so well in your wench, I am no company for you.  Fow 
Not for me, I'll worry thee Frank to death, if thou flinchest, to the Oracle boys, thou shouldst hunt as I do these wanton Rabbit suckers, come we'll have thy story in Apollo, now my own tales over,—— I'll busy my breines to set thy wheels in a handsome motion again, be bold as I am, let no denial, make thee remove thy siege, they must come to parley, make but wise conditions, and the Forts thine own I warrant thee, come to the Oracle.  Exeunt. Enter Breines. Bre 
Crack my sides with laughter, here's a purchase happier than I expected, her own Letter to Aymwell, his (which was the most I could hope for) would have been but presumption, this is evidence against the world, to this have I added seal and superscription to the old Knight my Master, oh how I could hug myself with the thought on't, they may talk of womens' wit, 'tis as slender as their apronstrings from whence they fetch it, they have no reaches in 'em, here comes my Mistress movable. Enter Sensible .She shall do the seat Mistress Sensible, here's a Letter to my Master, I am going in some haste to dispatch some business, when he comes, at opportunity do so much as deliver it, wilt.  Sen. 
A greater courtesy than this for you.  Bre 
Oh that I were a Youth of one and twenty again.  Sen. 
What then?  Bre 
Hear my wish out, and ten thousand pounds in a musty Coffer, a house well furnished, Acres enough of my own about it, 50. ploughs a going, 20. horse in the stable, beside a Caroche& 6. Flanders Mares 10. tall knaves in livery, 8. velvet Pages, 6. Footmen in Cadis. I would marry thee, love thee, lie with thee, and get so many brains without sage, as should furnish any nation in Christendom, with politicians girl, farewell sweet, kind Sensible.  Sen. 
What crotchets be these, the fellows mad I think.  Enter Violetta. Vio: 
Oh look Sensible seek everywhere  
About the chamber, I ha' lost the letter  
Aymwell sent me, if we should be  
Discovered, we are quite undone, what's that in thy hand,  Sen: 
A letter.  Vio: 
Whence.  Sen: 
I know not 'twas left here, and Breines having some business to dispatch requested me to deliver it.  Vio: 
Let me see't. To the right worshipful Sir George Richly, I see him coming, lose no time, employ thy diligence to search for mine, I will deliver this.  Sen. 
I shall Mistress.  Vio: 
My father presses me to marry Treedle  
Short time's allowed for the prevention Enter Sir Geo.  
My good angel assist me, here's a letter Sir.  Geo. 
Whence.  Vio. 
I know not, your servant Breines received it.  Geo. 
What's here— daughter do not you know whence this letter came?  Vio. 
Not I Sir.  Geo. 
You cannot be so ignorant.  Vio. 
What means my father?  Geo. 
You are familiar with the Contents.  Vio. 
I beseech you Sir have no suspicion.—  Geo. 
I'll read it to you, Mr. Aymwell; I received your letter, and praise your apprehension, upon the first view of your person, I conceived opinion of your merit, the flame is now too great to be suppressed, it is no time to protract your hopes nor dishonour in me to yield upon noble conditions at the first summon, I accept your love, and require your industry to prevent my father's purpose, my servant Sensible you may trust, I will use some invention to delay my expected marriage, farewell.  Vio. 
My harsh fate.  Geo. 
d'ye know this character, where's my man Brains.  Vio. 
Your man devil. Enter Brains.  Bra. 
Did your worship call?  Geo. 
Oh my best servant.  
Does not thy very soul blush to deceive me.  Bra: 
What's the matter Mistress.  Vio: 
hear me I beseech you.  Geo: 
I'th' height and puzze of my care to make  
Thee, happy? to conspire thy overthrow  
I won't hear.  Bra: 
Good Sir.  Vio. 
This was your work you can read.  Bra: 
And write too the superscription of a Letter or so.  Geo. 
Where's Sensible Enter Sensible.  
For your good service to your Mistress housewife  
Pack up your trinkets, I here discharge you.  Bra: 
I hope you are Sensible.  Vio: 
Oh wench my father hath my letter.  Sen: 
Yours?  Vio: 
And I mistaking sealed and returned Aymwell that which he sent.  Sen: 
How came he by't.  Vio: 
Talk not of that, Oh for some art to help us.  Bra: 
Let me council you not to express any violence in your passions, lest you mar the possibility of reclaiming her, it seems Aymwell has missed the intelligence, where shame is enforced too much upon the delinquent, it begets rather an audacious defence of the sin, than repentance, soft rain slides to the root, and nourishes, where great storms make a noise, wet but the skin a'th' earth, and run away in a channel.  Sen: 
A most rare project.  Vio. 
It will appear the same, both made together  
Which since my sister's death I have worn.  Geo: 
Which of my cares reward'st thou with this folly.  Vio. 
Sir can you pardon?  Geo. 
I love you but too well, go to your chamber.  Vio: 
But must we part.  Geo: 
Dispute it not.  Bra: 
bye sweet Mistress Sensible, I hope we shall meet again as merry as we part.  Sen. 
'Tis very violent, but we obey your pleasure, I have only apparel and some few trifles.  Geo: 
Take 'em all wi'ye and be gone.  Vio. 
Beside my own misfortune, I have cause to pity thine, my father is displeased, and not injustly, happy genius.— Exeunt  Geo: 
So, things must be managed wisely, I will hasten the marriage.  Bra: 
By all means let it be sudden.  Geo: 
Within two days— tomorrow.  Bra: 
I won't sleep, till she be married, but carry things smooth, let not the Knight suspect y'are troubled, your daughter will be fetched about with a bias again.  Geo: 
How thou deserv'st me, let us in.  Bra: 
Hereafter for my sake, and subtle pains  
Who ere is wise, let the world call him Brains.    

ACTVS. IV.  

SCENA. I.  Enter Aymwell and Sensible. Aym. 
CAn this be true?  Sen: 
As I have faith to heaven.  Aym: 
Take this and this for thy sweet story, thou  
Hast entranced me with thy language; laden  
With my despairs, like a distressed bark  
I gave myself up lost in the imagined  
Tempest, but at point of striking  
Upon a rock, what a celestial gale  
Makes my sails swell with comfort, and enforcing  
My ship into the channel, I do feel it  
Bound on the waves, discretion at the helm  
Which passion made forsaken, I now bless  
The Minute I weighed Anchor; oh my destiny  
Dwell longer on this thread and make it firm,  
Upon it hangs the weight of such a fortune  
That if it crack, will swifter than jove's flaming  
Arrow, dig my grave i'th' earth's centre,  
Forgive me sacred sex of women that  
In thought or syllable I ha' declaimed  
Against your goodness, I will redeem it  
With such religious honouring your names  
That when I die some near thought stained Virgin  
Shall make a relic of my dust, and throw  
My ashes like a charm upon those men,  
Whose faiths they hold suspected, to what pitch  
Of blessedness are my thoughts mounted.  Sen. 
Sir,  
This is an opportunity for action  
Time will run fast upon the minute.  Aym. 
Pardon  
The trespass of my joy it makes me vild  
I am too well rewarded for thy suffering  
Promise thyself a noble recompense.  Enter Manly, and Clare. Man: 
Come ha' you finished your discourse yet.  Aym: 
Y'are my friends,  
I was deceived in my Violetta  
She loves, sh'as sent me proof, but a mistake  
Sent back my letter, and detained her answer  
Which was betrayed to her father, but keep your wonder  
To honour her rare wit, which if the stars  
Show themselves not malicious, will assure  
All my desires in her, a divine project  
She is the master engine, you must work too,  
Will you not friends?  Both: 
You know you may command us.  Aym. 
Then spread your bosoms, you shall straight procure  
A caroche be ready a'th' backside a'my lodging,  
Do not lose time in questioning, my fate  
Depends upon your haste.  Man. 
Promise it done.  Aym: 
You shall disguise yourself I must employ you in rougher action.  Clar: 
I refuse no office  
To advance your hopes.  Aym. 
My certainty's, in thee,  
The frame of our whole building leans, come on  
Move slowly time until our work be done. Exeunt.  Enter Violetta, Tutor. Vio. 
I was not blind to your deserts.  
Nor can be so ungrateful now, as not  
To give encouragement to your affection  
My father may command my person, never  
My love to marry Treedle.  Tu. 
he's an ass I made his best verses for 'em.  Vio. 
I thought his fancy would not reach 'em.  Tu. 
His sconce is drier than a Pumice.  Vio. 
There be ways to prevent marriage for I'm already changed.  Tu. 
Y'are wise, let's run away together.  Vio. 
But how shall I be sure your love is firm.  Tu. 
Try me and trust me after.  Vio. 
And I will, for shall it be a hard task I'll impose on you, dare you fight?  Tu. 
If I like my enemy.  Vio. 
'Tis a poor old fellow.  Tu. 
Then I'll kill him, his name?  Vio. 
My father's servant Brains.  Tu. 
he's dead.  
By this time.  Vio. 
Stay, there is a circumstance  
To be observed, by some means I'll procure  
He waits on me to the Strand this afternoon.  Enter Sir Nicholas, and Whible. 
Sir Nicholas? your ear for the rest.  Tu. 
He will suspect nothing by our privacy,  
He bade me take occasion to urge  
His good parts to you, should he ask I'd swear  
I did but press his commendations.  Nic. 
Is thy name Whible.  Whi. 
Yes, an't please your worship.  Nic. 
I like thee the better for that my name's Treedle.  Whi. 
I thank your worship.  Nic. 
Hast done hooking o' me.  Whi. 
Every eye hath his object already.  Nic. 
A witty knave, what place dost thou occupy under thy Master.  Whi. 
I am commonly his journeyman Sir.  Nic. 
How?  Whi. 
I look to his horse's sir.  Nic. 
Wilt serve me when I'm married.  Whi. 
Alas, I have no good parts to commend men.  Nic. 
No good parts, and thou hast but skill in Horses and Dogs, thouart fit for any Gentleman in England.  Vio. 
just at that place assault him.  Tu. 
By your fair hand I will.  Vio. 
My Delight, how fare you.  Nic. 
I'm studying some witty Poesy for thy wedding Ring, let me see—  Vio. 
Trouble not your head, Whible entreat my Father hither.  Nic. 
No matter, I will send to the University.  Vio. 
Were you ever of any College?  Nic. 
College, I have had a head in most ath' Butteries of Cambridge, and 't has been sconced to purpose. I know what belongs to Sizing and have answered to my Que in my days, I'm free of the whole University, I commenced with no worse than his Majesty's footmen.  Vio. 
And ever since you have had a running wit, you were better consult our wits at home, we have excellent Poets i'th' Town they say.  Nic. 
I'th' Town? What makes so many Scholars then come from Oxford and Cambridge, like Market women with Dorsers full of lamentable Tragedies, and ridiculous Comedies which they might here vent to the Players, but they will take no money for 'em.  Vio. 
Oh my dearest! How happy shall I be when I'm married. Kiss.  Enter Sir George, Worthy. Wor. 
Look, they are engendering at the lip.  Geo. 
I like it well.  Vio. 
Why are our joys deferred?  Nic. 
But till tomorrow.  Vio. 
'Tis an age methinks.  Nic. 
Kind worm.  Wor. 
This cannot be deceit.  Vio. 
I want some trifles the Exchange will furnish me, Let it be your motion to my Father.  Nic. 
Father and Uncle you will excuse our familiar conversation; I vow I'll be honest till I be married, nor as touch of my flesh within the walls, only the suburbs of her lips or hands, or so, and when, and when is tomorrow the day, the day of coupling and so forth, have you got a licence.  Geo. 
It shall be my next work:  Nic. 
Pray do, we'll be married here, but keep our wedding at my own house at Croidon, we'll ha' the City Waits down with us, and a noise of Trumpets, we can have Drums i'th' Country, and the train-band, and then let the Spaniards come and they dare, dost hear; here's twenty pieces you shall fribble 'em away at the Exchange presently.  Geo: 
How Sir?  Nic: 
By this gold she shall Father, lay it out in toothpicks, I'll wear 'em out in my hat; come I'll with you for the licence.  Geo. 
Who shall with her?  Wor. 
I must attend a project of my daughters. Exit.  Enter Brains: Geo. 
Brains.  Bra: 
Sir.  Geo: 
Wait on my daughter to the Exchange, observe her carefully.  Bra: 
point me a minute to return with her, if I fail put my brains intoth' pot, and let 'em be served up with a calf's head, tomorrow dinner.  Vio: 
It succeeds to my wish.  Nic. 
Violetta, look you lay out my gold at the Exchange in Bartholomew Fairings, farewell Violetta.  Bra: 
Come Mistress will you walk, I would fain see any mortal wit cozen me o' my charge now, I will live to be the shame of politicians, and when I am dead, be clapped up into the Chronicles.  Enter Fowler. Fow: 
Ah the desire of unlawful flesh, what a conjuring dost thou keep within us to lay this little spirit of conscience, the world and the devil, are tame and sprightless temptations, poor traffic to this staple commodity of Whoring: this is the place where I must take shipping for the Summer Islands, if she keep touch, I will call them fortunate, and once a Week make a Love voyage to them. Ha! are we entertained with Music?  

Song.  
Back, back again, fond man forbear,  
Buy not a minute's play too dear:  
Come with Holy flame and be  
Welcome to Virtue and to me.   
Come with Holy flame and be, welcome to Virtue and to me? Flame? I bring none wi' me, and I should be sorry to meet any fire works here, for those hereafter I look on 'em afar off, and apprehend them with less fear, again?  

Song.  
Love a thousand sweets distilling,  
And with Nectar bosoms filling,  
Charm all eyes that none may find us,  
Be above, before, behind us;  
And while we thy pleasures taste  
Enforce Time itself to stay,  
And by forelock hold him fast  
lest occasion slip away.   
I marry, this is another manner of invitement, I'll to her but— Enter Winifrid .Here comes the squire of her Mistress's body, how does my little taper of Virgin wax, thou hast been in some damp thou burnest blue methinks.  Win. 
Noble Sir.  Fow. 
What, a cold.  Win. 
A great cold, I ha' lost my voice.  Fow. 
And thou hast not lost thy Maidenhead 'tis no matter, have a little care of thy Frank Tenement, and thy tongue will come time enough to itself I'll warrant thee, what place has she chosen for the Encounter?  Win. 
Her chamber.  Fow. 
Her chamber?  Win. 
'Tis all dark.  Fow. 
Is't all dark, I commend her policy the better, than the room, and the deed that must be done in't will be of one complexion, so she be light I care not, prithee convey me to her.  Win. 
Follow me.  Fow. 
As thy shadow woe be to some o' the dear sex when a Chambermaid is Usher to a Gentleman. Exit.  Enter Mistress Penelope and Worthy. Pen. 
It shall be a harmless trial Sir.  Wor. 
Go too, I know thou art virtuous, put in execution thy purpose, I'll be within the reach of thy voice.  Pen. 
It shall be my security,  
What ill star, ruled at my Nativity,  
That I should be so miserable to love  
A man, whose glory is his vice, whose study  
Is but to ruin virtue. Enter Winifrid.  Win. 
Mistress?  Pen. 
Here Winifrid.  Win. 
The Gamester waits his entrance jocund as a Bridegroom, he has forgot his Fever.  Pen. 
Away you know your charge, be ready where are you Sir, Mr. Fowler She speaks hoarse. Enter Fowler.  Fow. 
Hell, if darkness will carry it, yet hell cannot be so black.  
There are too many flames in't, thy hand, what Monks hole hast thou brought me to, where's thy Mistress.  Pen. 
This is the way.  Fow. 
Is this the way? it is a very blind one, the Devil can hardly know me if he meet me here that's my comfort, yet if he did, he loves the sin too well to interrupt so precious a meeting, prithee Child of darkness conduct me to the handsome Fairy I must dance withal.  Pen. 
It seems your Fever hath left you.  Fow. 
My Fever, I forget myself, I should have counterfeited sick all this while, but no matter and thy Mistress know it not, thou art skilful in secrets, and I will deserve it: two or 3. fits when I am in her presence, will make her keep her promise, wi'me about the cure, for that she thinks I was so, prithee do thy office and bring me to her, I hope she is not within hearing.  Pen. 
Fear not.  Fow. 
So about it then.  Pen. 
There's a fee belongs to my place first:  Fow. 
A fee belonging to your place, as I hope for a limb of thy Mistress I had forgot it, there's gold I can feel it by this darkness: for thou seest I have no light to swear by 'tis weight, quick periwinkle to thy mistress now.  Pen. 
This is not enough.  Fow. 
There's more, take silver and all.  Pen. 
This is nothing.  Fow. 
Is it nothing? by this hand would I could see't, 'tis all I have, wilt search me?  Pen. 
There is another Fee belongs to us.  Fow. 
Another Fee belongs to us? what's that? I must kiss her, thouhast a down lip, and dost twang it handsomely, now to the business.  Pen. 
This is not all I look for:  Fow. 
She won't tempt me to come aloft will she?  Pen. 
If you could see me I do blush;  Wor. 
What does my daughter mean?  Fow. 
If I could see her she does blush she; says 'tis so: oh the insatiable desires of Chambermaids! they were wont to look no higher than the Groom or Servingman and be thankful, or if the Master would be pleased to let 'em show him this lobby tother withdrawing chamber, or the turret in summer, and take occasion to commend the situation and so forth, 'twas after the Lady had been served, out of his own mere motion and favour, and 'twas taken as an endearment for ever of their service and secrecy, now they must be tasters to'em i'the sweet sin, Fees o'the Court must be paid, or no suit commenced with iniquity, O Venus, what will this world come to?  Pen. 
Hear me.  Fow. 
Yes, I cannot see thee.  Pen 
This chamber by my policy was made dark:  Fow 
This chamber by your policy was made dark, so.  Pen 
My Mistress expected you without this ceremony.  Fow 
Your Mistress expects me, &c. cunning Gipsy.  Pen: 
But if you condescend not first:  Fow 
But if I condescend not first, will she threaten me?  Pen 
To impart to me the sweet pleasure of your body.  Fow: 
To impart to you the sweet pleasure of my body,  Pen: 
Indeed you shall not embrace my Mistress and so forth.——  Fow 
Indeed I shall not embrace your Mistress and so forth, you will justify this to her face, 'tis not that I stand upon a career, but I won't be compelled to lie with any Whore in Christendom, was ever such a Goat in nature, why hark you virgin above ground, for a dark room or a cellar are all one for you, you that are a degree above the Kitchen, and make your Master's man run mad to hear you play ath' Virginals, whose breath though strengthened with garlic, you would suck like a domestic Cat at midnight, will no diet down with you; but what is reserved for your mistress's palate, you are in hope to filch a point from my breeches, which executed at both ends, you will wear about your smutchy wrist for a bracelet, I will seek out thy Mistress, rifle her Lady-ware in spite of thee, and give my footmen charge not to kiss thee, and it would keep thee from starving, would I could see the way out again:  Pen 
I can betray and will.  Fow 
she'll betray us, she has voice enough for such a mischief, dost hear, do but consider she is thy Mistress, there's some reason she should be preferred.  Pen 
I'll hear none.  Fow 
she'll hear no reason, if the devil hath fed her blood with the hope of me, would he would furnish her with an Incubus in my shape to serve her, or let a Satire leap her, oh unmerciful Chambermaids, the grave is sooner satisfied then their wantonness, dost hear, wilt ha' the truth on't, 'twas a condition between us, and I swore no woman should enjoy me before her, there's conscience I should be honest to her, prithee be kind to a young sinner, I will deserve thee hereafter i'the height of dalliance.  Pen: 
I am i'the same humour still.  Fow: 
She is i'the same humour still, I must go through her to her Mistress, art thou a Christian?—— Well tho'rt a brave girl, and I do love thy resolution, and so soon as I have presented my first fruits to thy Mistress only for my oaths sake I'll return and ply thee with embraces, as I am a Gentleman prithee show me the way.  Pen 
I won't trust you Sir,  Fow 
Won't you trust me? why come on then and there be no remedy.  Pen 
Will you satisfy my desire?  Fow 
I'll do my endeavour, I am untrussing as fast as I can, nay and I be provocked, I am a Tyrant, have at you Beauchamp.  Pen 
Winfryd.  Enter Winfryd with light. Fow: 
Ha' you found your voice, what  
Mean you by this light?  Pen 
That you should see your shame  Fow 
Cheated, ha'?  
Is this your love to me, your noble love  
I did suspect before how I should find you,  Pen 
Degenerated man, what mad disease  
Dwells in thy veins that does corrupt the flow  
Of generous blood within thee,  Fow 
Shall I not vault Gentlewoman?  Pen 
What behaviour of mine  
Gave thee suspicion I could be  
So lost to virtue, to give up mine honour,  
Poor man how thou didst fool thyself  
Go home and pray thy sin may  
Be forgiven, and with tears  
Wash thy polluted soul.  Wor. 
I like this well  
And find her noble aim.  Pen. 
Be man again;  
For yet thou art a Monster, and this act  
Published will make thee appear so black and  
Horrid, that even beasts will be ashamed  
Of thy society, my goodness in hope of  
Your conversion makes me chides you so,  
Ha Winifrid dost thou observe him, oh my heart  
Is full of fear, I tremble to look on him:  
See of a sudden what a paleness has  
Possessed his face, do not his eyes retire  
Into their hollow chambers, Sir how do you?  Fow: 
Well.  Wor. 
What new project's this?  Win. 
A sudden change.  
Sure heaven is just unto thy late imposture,  
And thou art punished now indeed with sickness  
For mocking heaven I fear, oh dost thou see.  Fow. 
What?  Pen. 
Death sits upon his forehead, I ne'er saw  
The horror of a dying countenance,  
But in this Gentleman, Winifrid to my closet,  
Fetch me the Cordial,  Fow. 
What d'ye mean Gentlewomen,  
I do not feel any such dangerous sickness.  Pen. 
What a hollow voice he has, oh my misfortune  
If he should die here, fetch me some strong waters.  Fow. 
No no, I can walk for 'em myself if need be.  Pen. 
He talks wildly:  
I may suspect him, if y'ave so much strength  
To walk, go home, call your Physician,  
And friends, dispose of your estate, and settle  
Your peace for heaven I do beseech you Sir.  
My prayers shall beg a mercy on your soul:  
For I have no encouragement to hope  
Your glass hath many sands, farewell Sir, cherish  
Pare holy thoughts, that if your life soon end,  
Your better part may to you Court ascend, come to my Father. Exeunt.  Fow. 
What's the meaning a this sick and dying, I feel no pain, I have heard of some died with conceit, if it should kill me, I were a precious coxcomb, was ever poor Gentleman brought into such a foolish paradise prepared for a race, and mounting into th' saddle, I must go home and die, well, if I live I'll quit your cunning, and for the more certainty, my revenge may prosper, I won't say my prayers till it take effect. Enter Tutor.  Tut. 
This is the place where I must exercise my valour upon Brains, I was ne'er given to fight, but I'm engaged for such a prize as I would challenge all the Noble sciences in my own defence.  Enter Aymewell, Clare, Manly. Aym. 
I cannot spy 'em, yet, pray heaven no  
Disaster cross our project,  Cla. 
What thing's that walks about the door?  Aym. 
One practising I  
Think, the postures of a Fencer.  Tut. 
Things occur worthy consideration:  
Were I best to speak before I strike him, or give him blows, and tell him reason afterwards. I do not like expostulations, they proclaim our anger, and give the enemy warning to defend himself, I'll strike him valiantly and in silence.  Cla. 
What does he mutter?  Aym. 
What business stays him here, some treachery.  Tut. 
Being resolved to strike before I speak.  
'Tis worth my judgement, whether Fist or Sword  
Shall first salute him, I'll be generous,  
And give him first two or three wholesome buffets,  
Which well laid on, may happily so maze him,  
My weapon may be useless, for I fear  
Should I begin with steel, her very face  
Would force me make too deep incision,  
And so there may be work for Sessions,  
I like not that as valiant as I am,  
Killing is common.  Aym. 
Clare, they are in sight, down, down, oh my ravished soul, what bliss is in this object?  Tut. 
ha' they are coming, 'tis she and the old Ruffian he has but a scurvy countenance, I ha' th'advantage in the first blow, and I should be very sorry, he should beat me in the conclusion.  Enter Clare. Cla. 
Why does this fellow stay?  Tut. 
I must on, she has spied me through her mask,  
I see her smile already, and command  
A present Battery.  Enter Brains before Violetta. Cla. 
Will this fellow prevent my office, he goes toward him with a quarrelling face, ha, I'll not engage myself, then 'tis so: withdraws  Vio. 
Help, help. She runs in & presently slips out Sencible dressed like her Mistress.  Bra. 
Mistress stay, Fear nothing, alas good Gentlewoman, you black maggot death, I'd tread him into the kennel amongst his kindred.  Tut. 
Hold, help, murder,  Bra. 
We shall have the whole street about's presently  
let's on our journey, who 's this Mole-catcher?  
And ye had not been wi'me, I would have cut  
Him into more pieces than a tailor's cushion,  
Sir Nicholas you shall know on't too. Exeunt.  Tut. 
They are gone together, Pox a this toughness,  
Has made an Ass of me, next him do I hate the Law  
Most abominably, for if I might kill and not be hanged:  
For him 'twould never trouble me, shall I lose my reputation, So I'll venture another pounding, but I'll be revenged on him. Exeunt  Enter Brains before Sensible. Bra. 
My Mistress is grown very thtisty of her voice a'the sudden, I have asked her 2. or three questions, and she answers me with holding out her hand, as the post at St. Albans that points the way to London, either she is grown sullen, or the fright she was in late like a Wolf that sees a man first, hath taken away her voice,— I'll make her speak to me— He stays, she puts him forward with her hand.— Said you forsooth— we will not do, what a blessed comfort shall he enjoy if she continue speechless, the Persians did worship a God under the name of Silence, and sure Christians may have an excuse for their Idolatry, if they can find a woman whom nature hath posted into the world with a tongue, but no ability to make use of that miserable Organ, what do you think 'tis o'clock? two not stroke, ha? how now Mrs. treading a toside, this is your way to the Exchange. She slips away.  Sen. 
My way you saucy Clown, take that,  Bra. 
You are bountiful, 'tis more than I looked for.  She unmasks. Sen. 
What ha' you to say to me Sirrah, cannot a Gentlewoman  Bra. 
Ha ah my Brains melt, I am undone, I am undone, you Succubus where is my Mistress? Proserpine speak.  Enter Tutor with Sergeants. Tut. 
That's he, your office.  Serg. 
We arrest you Sir.  Bra. 
Me you Toads?  Sen. 
how's this?  Tutor 
Away with him to Prison, 'tis no slight action, at your perils Sergeants— my fairest Mistress.  Sen. 
Mistress— I'll honour this plot for the mirth' sake.  Exeunt. Bra. 
Sirrah Tadpoole whatye mean, I owe him not a penny by this flesh, he has a conspiracy upon me, I charge ye in the king's name unbind me.  Serg. 
We charge you i'th' king's name obey us,  Bra. 
May you live to be arrested ath' Pox, and die in a Dungeon, nay inns a Court Gentleman, at next trimming shave your ears and noses off, and then duck you in their own boggards.    

ACTVS. V.  

SCENA. I.  Enter Sir George, Sir Nicholas, Mr. Worthy. Nic. 
SO, now we have got a Licence, I would see who dares marry your daughter besides myself, is she come from the Exchange yet?  Wor. 
Not yet Sir. Enter a Messenger.  Mes. 
Your servant Brains remembers his duty in this Paper.  Geo. 
Letters!  Nic. 
Letters, let me read 'em.  Geo. 
Your patience Sir.  Wor. 
I doubt all is not well, what if some misfortune should now befall your Mistress, I hope you have Armour of Patience?  Nic. 
I and of Proof too at home, as much as my Hall can hold, the Story of the Prodigal can hardly be seen for't; I have Pikes and Guns, enough for me and my Predecessors, a whole Wardrobe of Swords and Bucklers, when you come home you shall see 'em.  Geo. 
A Conspiracy.  Nic. 
Oh Treason.  Geo. 
My man Brains is arrested by your Tutor, a plot to take away my daughter, she is gone.  Wor. 
I did prophesy too soon.  Nic. 
My Tutor read travel to me, and run away.  
With my Wench— a very Peripatetic— what shall I do then, and some had arrested and clapped her up too— we should have known where to find her— d'ee hear, I did not mean to marry with a Licence.  Wor. 
How Sir?  Nic. 
No Sir, I did mean to marry with your daughter Am I a Gull?  Wor. 
Have Patience.  Nic. 
I will have no patience, I will have Violetta, why does not Brains appear?  Wor. 
His heels are not at liberty, he's in Prison.  Nic. 
In Prison, why and he had been hanged, he might have brought us word.  Geo. 
I'm rent with vexation, Sirrah go you with me to the Prison. Exit George and Messenger.  Wor. 
What will you do?  Nic. 
I'll geld my Tutor.  Wor. 
You were best find him first.  Nic. 
Nay I will find him, and find him again and I can light on him, let me alone, I'll take half a dozen wi'me and about it instantly. Exit.  Wor. 
I wish thee well Niece, but a better husband.  Enter Fowler. 
Who's yonder, 'tis Master Fowler, at an excellent opportunity. Exit.  Fow. 
I do walk still, by all circumstance I am alive, not sick in any part but my head, which has only the pangs of invention, and is in travel of some precious revenge, for my worse than Masculine affront, what if I report abroad she's dishonest, I cannot do'em a worse turn than to say so: some of our Gallants take a pride to belie poor Gentlewomen of'at fashion, and think the discourse an honour to 'em; confidently boast the fruition of this or that Lady, whose hand they never kissed with the Glove off: and why may not I make it my revenge, to blur their fames a little for abusing me.  Enter two Friends at several Doors. 1. 
Well met friend, what? thou lookest sad.  2. 
You will excuse me, and bear a part, when I tell the cause.  1. 
What's the News?  2. 
Our Friend Master Fowler's dead.  Fow. 
Fowler! Ha?  1. 
Mr. john Fowler.  Fow. 
That's I, that's I, ha?  2. 
The same.  Fow. 
Dead, am I dead?  1. 
It cannot be, I saw him but this morning  
Lusty and pleasant, how died he?  2. 
Suddenly.  1. 
Where?  2. 
At Master Worthies house.  1. 
Dead!  2. 
Too true Sir.  Fow. 
I would not believe myself sick, belike I am dead, 'tis more than I know yet.  1. 
He was a Suitor to Master Worthies daughter.  2. 
Mistress Penelope, right.  Fow. 
By all circumstance they mean me, these Gentlemen know me too, how long is it since I departed? Some mistake—  1. 
How poor a thing is life, that we cannot  
Promise a minute's certainty, i'th' height  
And strength of youth, falling to dust again.  Fow. 
Ha, ha, Gentlemen, what d''ee think a'the dead man?  2. 
'Tis the last Office I can do him, now to wait on him to the Earth.  Fow. 
Coxcombs d''ee not know me, I'm alive, d'ee not see me?  1. 
He was a noble Fellow, and deserves  
A memory, if my brain have not lost  
All his Poetic juice, it shall go hard  
But I'll squeeze out an Elegy.  Fow. 
For whom my furious Poet, ha, not know me, do I walk invisible, or am I my own Ghost, and you woe not see me, you shall feel me, you have a nimble pate, I may chance strike out some flash of wit— no—  Enter Master Worthy. 
Here comes another, save you Master Worthy.  1. 
Sir I heard ill news, Master Fowlers dead.  Wor. 
He is indeed Sir.  Fow. 
Indeed you lie Sir.  Wor. 
I saw his eyes sealed up by death, and him  
Rapt in his last sheet.  1. 
Where's his body?  Wor. 
At my sad house Sir.  Fow. 
Is my body at your house?  Wor. 
I did hope Gentlemen, we should ha' found  
My house his Bridal Chamber, not his Coffin.  
But Heaven must be obeyed, my daughter loved him,  
And much laments his loss.  Fow. 
Very good, than I am dead, am I not?  Wor. 
You both were in the number of his friends,  
I hope you'll add your presence to the rest, a'the Funeral.  Fow. 
Whose Funeral, you man of Bedlam.  2. 
Cry mercy Sir, pray keep your way.  1. 
It is a duty which without invitement  
We are both prompt to discharge.  Fow. 
Master Worthy, Gentlemen d''ee hear. Ex. man. Fow. Is't possible, not know me, not see me, I am so thin, and airy, I ha' slipped out a'the world it seems, and did not know on't— if I be dead, what place am I in, where am I? This is not Hell, sure I feel no torment, and there is too little company, no 'tis not Hell— and I ha' not lived after the rate of going to Heaven; yet beside, I met just now a Usurer, that only deals upon ounces, and carries his Scales at his Girdle, with which he uses to weigh, not men's necessities, but the Plate he is to lend money upon, can this fellow come to Heaven? Here a poor fellow is put i'th' stocks for being drunk, and the Constable himself reeling home, charges others i'th' king's name to aid him. There's a spruce Captain, newly crept out of a Gentleman Usher, and shuffled into a Buff jerkin with gold Lace, that never saw service beyond Finsbury or the Artillery Garden, marches waving a desperate Feather in his Lady's beaver, while a poor Soldier, bred up in the School of War all his life, yet never commenced any degree of Commander, wants a piece of Brass, to discharge a wheaten Bullet to his? belly no— this is not Heaven I know by the people that traffic in't, where am I then? umh I'll to Worthies before they bury me, and inform myself better what's become o' me, if I find not myself there in a Coffin, there's hope I may revive again, if I be dead, I am in a world very like the other, I will get me a female spirit to converse withal and kiss, and be merry, and imagine myself alive again. Exit.  Enter Sir Nicholas, Whibble, Footman. Nic. 
Come follow me, and be valiant my Masters.  Whib. 
Remember yourself Sir, this is your worship's Footman, and for mine own part, though I be not cut according to your cloth, I am a true Servant of yours, where d''ee think we shall find 'em?  Nic 
Where? where dost thou think?  Footm 
I think where his worship thinks  Nic 
No matter, whether we find 'em or no, but when we have taken 'em, as if they be not 'tis their own fault, for we are ready, forvioletta forvioletta upon submission, I will commit marriage with her, but for the Rogue my Tutor—  Whib 
What will you do with him?  Nic 
I'll do nothing to him, thou shalt kill him for me.  Whib 
It will show better in your Footman.  Nic 
Thou sayest right, he can run him through quickly, but 'tis no matter who, and the worst come to worst, 'tis but a hanging matter, and I'll get a pardon first or last, I would kill him myself, but that I should be taxed to kill a poor worm, more than ever I did in my life, beside 'tis not with my credit to be hanged.  Whib 
And please your Worship, I'll make a fair motion, take your choice Sir Nicholas, whether we shall kill him and you'll be hanged for him, or you shall be hanged for him and we'll kill him.  Footm 
Under correction, I think it were better to take him Prisoner.  Nic 
I like my Footman's reason, we'll take him first Prisoner, and whosoever hath a mind to be hanged, may kill him afterwards—- oh that I had him here now, I could cut him in pieces on my Rapier's point.  Whib 
Has not your worship been at Fence School?  Nic 
At Fence School? I think I have, I'll play so many for so many, I name no weapons, with any High German, English Fencer of them all—- Canst not thou Fence Whibble?  Whib 
I Sir alas—  Nic 
'Tis but thus and thus, and there's a man at your Mercy, I would cleave a Button, and 'twere as broad as the brim of your hat now, oh that I had but any Friend. but to kill a little, prithee try me Whibble.  Whib 
I am none of your friends.  Nic 
Why then and thou lovest me, be my foe a little, for a bout or so.  Whib 
I care not much to exercise your Worship, stand aside.  Nic 
Stay let me see first— there's it— I cannot with my honour wound thee, I do not stand upone the odds of my weapon which is longer than thine, but thou seest thine is shorter than mine by a handful, too much is too much.  Enter Tutor and Sensible. Footm 
Your Tutor Sir, and Mistress Violetta.  Nic 
How! Down with him some body— he's gone, follow him close— Oh run away cowardly rascal, will ye not fight against three? Mistress it is my fortune you see or my destiny, to recover your lost Virginity, I am sorry for nothing, but that I ha' shed no blood in your rescue: but where there is no valour to be expected, 'tis best to put up with valour and reputation, would the Rascal my Tutor have popped in before me? I'm glad I have prevented him,— dee hear— your father's mad, and I'm little better myself, but let's be wise, lose no more time, I know a Parson shall divide us into man and wife ere any body think on't, I'll make all sure now, I'll not be put into any more of these frights, I'll marry you, if any man dare run away with you afterward, let it light upon mine own head, and that's the worse I am sure they can do me.  Exeunt. Enter Worthy, and two friends. Wor. 
Gentlemen I thank you, you carried it To my desire most cunningly.  1: 
D''ee think 'thas taken?  2. 
I am covetous to see the event.  Enter Penelope. Wor. 
Pray sit—- Penelope  1. 
In mourning.  Wor. 
All parties in the engagement.  Pen 
You oblige a woman's service.  2. 
Gentle  
Lady And if it prove fortunate, the design  
Will be your honour, and the deed itself  
Reward us in his benefit, he was ever wild  1. 
Assured your ends are noble, we are happy in.  Enter Winifrid. Win. 
Master Fowler.  Wor. 
Is he come already?  Pen. 
Remove the hearse into this Chamber  
In your nobleness, I desire you will  
Interpret fairly what I am to personate  
And by the Story you will find I have  
Some cause of passion.  Enter Fowler. The Hearse brought in, Tapers. Fow. 
This is the room I sickened in, and by report died in, umh I have heard of spirits walking with aerial bodies, and ha' been wondered at by others, but I must only wonder at myself, for if they be not mad, I'm come to my own burial, certain these clothes are substantial, I owe my tailor for 'em to this hour, if the Devil be not my tailor, and hath furnished me with another suit very like it— This is no magical noise, essential gold and silver? What do I with it if I be dead? Here are no reckonings to be paid with it, no Tavern Bills, no midnight Revels, with the costly Tribe of amorous she sinners, now I cannot spend it, would the poor had it, by their prayers I might hope to get out of this new pitiful Purgatory, or at least know which way I came in to't— Here they are in mourning, what a Devil do they mean to do with me— not too many tears Lady, you will but spoil your eyes, and draw upon 'em the misery of Spectacles, do not you know me neither?  Pen. 
Oh Master Fowler.  Fow. 
Ha, out with't, nay and the woman but acknowledge me alive, there's some hope a me.  Pen. 
I loved thee living with a holy flame to purge the errors of thy wanton youth.  Fow. 
I'm dead again.  Pen. 
This made thy soul sue out so hasty a Divorce.  
And flee to airy dwellings, hath  
Left us thy cold pale figure, which we have  
Commission but to chamber up in  
Melancholy dust, where thy own worms  
Like the false servants of some great man shall  
devour thee first.  Fow. 
I am worm's meat,  Pen. 
We must all die.  Fow: 
Wooed some of you would do't quickly, that I might ha' company,  Pen. 
But wert thou now to live again with us  
And that by miracle thy soul should with thy  
Body have second marriage, I believe  
Thou wouldst study to keep it a chaste Temple, holy  
Thoughts like Fumes of sacred incense hovering  
About this heart, than thou wouldst learn to be  
Above thy frailties, and resist the flatteries of  
Smooth-faced lust.  Fow. 
This is my Funeral sermon.  Pen. 
The burden of which sin, my fears persuade me, both hastened and accompanied thy death.  Wor. 
This sorrow is unfruitful.  Pen. 
I ha' done,  
May this prayer profit him, would his soul were  
As sure to gain heaven as his body's, here,  2. 
We must hope the best, he was an inconstant young man, frequenting of some companies, had corrupted his nature, and a little debauched him.  Fow. 
In all this sermon I have heard little commendations of our dear brother departed, rich men do not go to th'pithole without Compliment of Christian burial, it seems if I had lived to ha' made a will, and bequeathed so much legacy as would purchase some Preacher a neat Cassock, I should ha' died in as good estate and assurance for my soul as the best Gentleman i'th' Parish, had my Monument in a conspicuous place of the Church, where I should ha' been cut in a form of prayer, as if I had been called away at my devotion, and so for haste to be in heaven, went thither with my book and spectacles— d'ye hear Lady and Gentlemen, is it your pleasure to see me, though not know me? and to inform a walking business when this so much lamented brother of yours departed out of this world, in his life I had some relation to him, what disease died he of pray? who is his heir yet at Common Law, for he was warm in the possession of Lands, thank his kind father, who having been in a consumption sixteen years, one day above all the rest having nothing else to do, died, that the young man might be a Landlord, according to the custom of his ancestors:  1. 
I doubt the project.  Fow. 
You should be his heir or executor at least by your dry eyes, Sir I commend thee, what a miserable folly 'tis to weep for one that's dead, and has no sense of our lamentation, Wherefore were Blacks invented? to save our eyes their tedious distillations, 'tis enough to be sad in our habits, they have cause to weep that have no mourning Cloth, 'tis a sign they get little by the dead, and that's the greatest sorrow now adays, you loved him Lady, to say truth you had little cause, a wild young man, yet and he were alive again, as that's in vain to wish you know, he may perchance be more sensible, & reward you with better service, so you would not proclaim his weakness,— faith speak well a'th' dead hereafter and bury all his faults with him, will ye, what are these all the guests? ha? what papers? some Elegy or Epitaph? who subscribes? oh this is your Poetry.  

How he died some do suppose  
How he sinned the Parish knows,  
Whether he's gone to heaven or hell,  
Ask not me I cannot tell.   
Very well, would the Gentleman your friend were alive to give you thanks for 'em.  
What have we more?  

Underneath, the fair not wise,  
Too self loved Narcissus lies,  
Yet his sad destruction came  
From no Fountain but a flame,  
Than youth Quench your hot desires,  
Purge your thoughts with chaster fires,  
lest with him it be too late,  
And death triumph in your fate  
Hither all you Virgins come,  
strew your tears upon this Tomb.  
Perhaps a timely weeping may  
So dispose his scorched clay,  
That a chaste and snowy flower  
May reward your gentle shower.   
Very well done upon so dead a subject, by the Virgin that's in't, you should owe this parcel of Poetry Lady.  Pen. 
A woman's muse sir,  Fow. 
Oh now you can answer me, am I dead still?  Pen. 
Yes:  Fow. 
Then you talk to a dead man.  Pen. 
I do.  Fow. 
Where am I dead?  Pen. 
Here, everywhere.  
Y'are dead to virtue, to all noble thoughts,  
And till the proof of your conversion  
To piety win my faith, you are to me  
Without all life, and charity to myself,  
Bids me endeavour with this ceremony  
To give you burial if hereafter I  
Let in my memory to my thoughts, or see you.  
You shall but represent his ghost or shadow  
Which never shall have power to fright my innocence.  
Or make my cheek look pale, my ends are compassed,  
And here in sight of heaven.  Fow. 
Stay,  
thou'rt a Noble girl, and dost deserve  
To marry with an Emperor, remove  
This sad thing from us, you do know me Gentlemen  
Witness my death to vanity, quitting all  
unchaste desires, revive me in thy thoughts,  
And I will love as thou hast taught me nobly  
And like a husband, by this kiss the seal  
That I do shake my wanton slumber off,  
And wake to virtue.  Wor. 
Meet it daughter.  Pen. 
Now you begin to live:  Fow. 
I will grow old i'th' study of my honour, this last conflict hath quite o'ercome me, make me happy in the style of your son.  Wor. 
My blessings multiply.  Gent. 
We congratulate this event.  Wor. 
See my brother. Enter Sir George, Brains.  Bra. 
Let not your rage be so high Sir, I ha' more cause to be mad,  Geo. 
Thou?  Bra: 
I.  Geo. 
I have lost my daughter.  Bra. 
But I have lost my credit, that had nothing else to live. I was more proud of that then you could be of twenty daughters,  Wor. 
Have you found 'em?  Geo. 
Not, not, and yet this old Ruffian will not let me vex for it, he says the greatest loss is his.  Bra. 
And I'll maintain it, 'twas my boast that I was never cozened in my life, have I betrayed so many plots, discovered letters, deciphered Characters, stripped knavery to the skin, and laid open the very soul of Conspiracy, deserved for my cunning to be called Brains both Town and Country over, and now to forfeit 'em, to see 'em drenched in a muddy stratagem, cheated by a woman, and a pedantical lousy Woodmonger, 'tis abominable; patience I abhor thee, I desire him that bids me go hang myself, which is the way to surgeons Hall I'll beg to ha' my skull cut, I have a suspicion my brains are filched, and my head has been late stuffed with woodcock's Feathers.  Fow. 
Be not mad.  Bra. 
I will in spite of any man here, who shall hinder me if I have a mind to't.  Geo. 
Your happiness removes my affliction, ha!  Enter Whibble, Tutor. Whib: 
Where is Sir Nicholas? we have brought the Gentleman.  Bra. 
Are you there— this was the Champion that justled me, shall I fetch a Dog-whip, or let me cut him up he will make excellent meat for the devil's Trencher, I'll carve him Sirrah.  Geo. 
Forbear, where is my daughter? villain confess.  Tut. 
Alas Sir, I was waiting upon her home, Sir Nicholas met me, and took her from me.  Geo. Wor. 
Sir Nicholas!  Whib. 
Yes Sir Nicholas, hath Mistress Violetta, I am a witness.  Bra. 
Why did he justle me, there began the treachery, ask him that?  Tutor 
I pray y' sir let it be forgotten, I ha' been kicked for't.  Enter at one Door Mr, Aymwell, Violetta, Manly, Clare, at the other, Sir Nicholas and Sensible. Whib. 
Here she is, no there she is.  Geo. 
Sir Nicholas:  Wor: 
I am amazed:  Nic. 
Stay which is my wife?  Geo. 
Here's my daughter.  Bra. 
Mistress!  Fow. 
Fine juggling. Francke whence comest?  Aym: 
From the Priest, if you have any joy for me,  
We are married.  Nic. 
Are there not two Sir Nicholases, pray what d''ee call this Gentlewoman?  Aymw. 
Her name's Violetta.  Viol. 
Father your pardon.  Nic. 
This is fine i'faith, well may a woman mistake her husband, when a man that is the wiser Vessel cannot know his own wife.  Geo. 
Married to Aymwell!  Man. Cla. 
We are Witnesses.  Nic. 
A good jest i'faith, hark you, were you ever Catechised? What is your name forsooth?  Sens. 
Faith Sir guess.  Aymw. 
All passion will be fruitless but of joy.  Nic. 
Sensible? Came I from Croyden for a Chambermaid?  
D''ee hear everybody I ha' married Sensible!  Man. Cla. 
We are witnesses of that too.  Nic. 
No no, this is my wife.  Aymw. 
Touch her not with a rude hand.  Nic. 
Why, I know she meant to be my wife, and only I ha' married her, as folks go to Law, by attorney, she is but her Deputy, for the more state I married her by proxy.  Bra. 
Do not deceive yourself Sir, though Princes depute men to marry their wives, women do not use to be Ciphers, she is your wife in law, let me counsel you sir to prevent laughter, somebody hath been cozened, I name nobody, since it was your fortune to marry this wench, which cannot now be undone, seem not to be sorry for't, they do purpose to jeer you out of your skin else.  Nic. 
sayst thou so?  Bra. 
Be confident and laugh at them first, that they are so simple to think that you are gulled, commend your choice, and say 'twas a trick of yours to deceive their expectation.  Nic. 
Come hither Madam Treedle, Gentlemen, you think now, I have but an ill match on't, and that as they say I am cheated, do not believe it— a Lady is a Lady, a bargain is a bargain, and I'm a Knight & no Gentleman, so much for that— I grant I married her, in her Mistress's name, and though (as great men, that use to choose wives for their favourites or Servants, when they have done with 'em) I could put her off to my Footman or my Tutor here, I won't, I will maintain her my wife and publish her, d''ee see, publish her to any man that shall laugh at it, my own Ladybird, and Madam Treedle.  Fow. 
You are happy Sir, in being deceived, he is a noble Gentleman.  Wor. 
Sir Nicholas has released her,  
Let your consent be free then.  Geo. 
You have won it  
Be my loved children, and I wish a joy  
Flow in all Bosoms. Brains we are reconciled.  Nic. 
Tutor we pardon.  Vio. 
You may Sir, he was my engine, now,  
What says my factious servant, nay, we're friends,  
The greatest Politician may be  
Deceived sometimes, wit without brains ye see.  Bra. 
And brains without wit too.  Fowl. 
Frank thou art married, and Sir Nicholas has made a Lady, I ha' lived loose a great while, and do purpose to be made fast to this Gentlewoman.  
To whose act I owe my true Conversion.  
When all things have their trial, you shall find.  
Nothing is constant but a virtuous mind. Exeunt.    
FINIS.   

This Play, called THE WITTY FAIR ONE, as it was Acted on the Stage, may be Printed, this 14. of january. 1632.  
HENRY HERBERT.