THE Miseries of enforced marriage. As it is now played by his majesties Servants.  
Qui Alios, (seipsum) docet.  
By George Wilkins.  
LONDON Printed for George Vincent, and are to be sold at his shop in Woodstreet. 1607.   

The Miseries of enforced Marriage.  Enter Sir Francis Ilford, Wentloe, and Bartley. Bart. 
But Francke, Frank, now we are come to the house, what shall we make to be our business?  Ilford. 
Tut, let us be Impudent enough, and good enough.  Went. 
We have no acquaintance here, but young Scarborrow.  Ilf. 
How no acquaintance: Angels guard me from thy company. I tell thee Wentloe thou art not worthy to wear guilt Spurs, clean Linen, nor good Clothes.  Went. 
Why for God's sake?  Ilford. 
By this hand thou art not a man fit to Table at an Ordinary, keep Knights company to Bawdy houses, nor Beggar thy tailor.  Went. 
Why then I am free from Cheaters, clear from the Pox, and escape Curses?  Ilf. 
Why dost thou think there is any Christians in the world?  Went. 
I and jews too, Brokers, Puritans, and sergeants.  Ilf. 
Or dost thou mean to beg after Charity, that goes in a cold suit already, that thou talkest thou hast no acquaintance here. I tell thee Wentloe thou canst not live on this side of the world: feed well, drink Tobacco, and be honoured into the presence, but thou must be acquainted with all sorts of men, I and so far in to, till they desire to be more acquainted with thee.  Bart. 
True, and than you shall be accounted a gallant of good credit.  Enter Clown. Ilf. 
But stay, here is a Scrape-trencher arrived: How now blue bottle, are you of the house?  Clow. 
I have heard of many black jacks Sir, but never of a blue Bottle.  Ilf. 
Well Sir, are you of the house?  Clow. 
No Sir, I am twenty yards without, and the house stands without me.  Bart. 
Prithee tells who owes this building.  Clow. 
He that dwells in it Sir.  Ilf. 
Who dwells in it then.  Clow. 
He that owes it.  Ilf. 
What's his name.  Clow. 
I was none of his Godfather.  Ilf. 
Dus master Scarberow lie here,  Clow. 
I'll give you a rhyme for that Sir,  
Sick men may lie, and dead men in their Graves,  
Few else do lie a-bed at noon, but Drunkards, Punks, & knaves.  Ilf. 
What am I the better for thy answer?  Clow. 
What am I the better for thy question?  Ilf. 
Why nothing.  Clow. 
Why then of nothing comes nothing.  Enter Scarborrow. Went. 
sblood this is a philosophical fool.  Clow. 
Then I that am a fool by Art, am better than you that are fools by nature.  Exit Scar. 
Gentlemen, welcome to Yorkshire.  Ilf. 
And well encountered my little Villain of fifteen hundred a year, Stut what makest thou here in this barren soil of the North, when thy honest friends miss thee at London?  Scar. 
Faith Gallants 'tis the Country where my Father lived, where first I saw the light, and where I am loved,  Ilf. 
Loved, I as courtier's love Usurers, & that is just as long as they lend them money. Now dare I lay.  Went. 
None of your Land good Knight, for that is laid to mortgage already?  Ilf. 
I dare lay with any man that will take me up.  Went. 
Who list to have a Lubberly load.  Ilf. 
Sirrah wag, this Rogue was son and heir to Antony Now, Now, and Blind Moon. And he must needs be a scurvy Musician, that hath two Fiddlers to his Fathers: but tell me in faith, art thou not, nay I know thou art called down into the country here, by some hoary Knight or other, who knowing thee a young Gentleman of good parts, and a great living, hath desired thee to see some pitiful piece of his Workmanship, a Daughter I mean, be't not, so?  Scar. 
About some such preferment I came down.  Ilf. 
Preferment, a good word: And when do you commence into the Cuckold's order, the Preferment you speak of when shall we have Gloves: when, when?  Scarb. 
Faith gallants  
I have been guest here but since last night.  Ilf. 
Why, and that is time enough to make up a dozen marriages, as marriages are made up now adays. For look you Sir: the father according to the fashion, being sure you have a good living, and without Encumbrance, comes to you thus:— takes you by the hand thus:— wipes his long beard thus:— or turns up his Muchacho thus:— Walks some turn or two thus:— to show his comely Gravity thus:— And having washed his foul mouth thus:— it last breaks out thus.—  Went. 
O God: Let us hear more of this?  Ilf. 
Master Scarborrow, you are a young Gentleman, I knew your father well, he was my worshipful good Neighbour, for our Demeans lay near together. Then Sir,— you and I must be of more near acquaintance.— At which, you must make an eruption thus:— O God (sweet Sir)  Bart. 
'sfoot, the Knight would have made an excellent Zany, in an Italian Comedy.  Ilf. 
Then he goes forward thus: Sir, myself am Lord of some thousand a year, a Widower, (master Scarberrow) I have a couple of young Gentlewomen to my Daughters, a thousand a year will do well divided among them? Ha, wilt not Master Scarborrow,— At which you out of your education must reply thus.— The Portion will deserve them worthy husbands: on which Tinder he soon takes fire and swears you are the Man his hopes shot at, and one of them shall be yours.  Went. 
If I did not like her, should he swear to the devil, I would make him forsworn.  Ilf. 
Then putting you and the young Pugs to in a close room together.  Went. 
If he should lie with her there, is not the father partly the Bawd?  Ilf. 
Where the young puppet, having the Lesson before from old Fox, give the son half a dozen warm kisses, which after her father's oaths, takes such Impression in thee, thou straight call'st by jesu Mistress, I love you:— When she has the wit to ask, but Sir, will you marry me, and thou in thy Cox-sparrow-humor repliest, I (before God) as I am a Gentleman will I, which the Father overhearing, leaps in, takes you at your word, swears he is glad to see this; nay he will have you contracted straight, and for a need makes the priest of himself.  
Thus in one hour, from a quiet life,  
Thou art sworn in debt, and troubled with a wife.  Bart. 
But can they Love one another so soon?  Ilf. 
Oh, it is no matter now adays for love, 'tis well, and they can but make shift to lie together.  Went. 
But will your father do this too, if he know the gallant breaths himself at some two or three Bawdy houses in a morning.  Ilf. 
Oh the sooner, for that and the Land together, tell the old lad, he will know the better how to deal with his Daughter?  
The Wise and Ancient Fathers know this Rule,  
Should both wed Maids, the Child would be a Fool.  
Come Wag, if thou hast gone no further than into the Ordinary fashion, meet, see, and kiss, give over: Mary not a Wife to have a hundred plagues for one pleasure: let's to London, there's variety: and change of pasture makes fat Calves.  Sca. 
But change of women bawld Knaves, Sir Knight.  Ilf. 
Wag and thou be'st a Lover but three days, thou wilt be heartless, Sleepless, witless, Mad, Wretched, Miserable, and indeed, a stark Fool. And by that, thou hast been married but three weeks, though thou shouldst wed a Cynthia rara avis, thou wouldest be a man monstrous: A Cuckold, a Cuckold.  Bart. 
And why is a Cuckold monstrous, Knight?  Ilf. 
Why, because a man is made a Beast by being married? Take but example thyself from the Moon, as soon as she is delivered of her great belly, doth she not point at the world with a pair of horns, as who should say, married men, some of ye are Cuckolds.  Scar. 
I construe more Divinely of their sex,  
Being Maids, methinks they are Angels: and being Wives,  
They are sovereigns: Cordials that preserve our Lives,  
They are like our hands that feed us, this is clear,  
They renew man, as spring renews the year.  Ilf. 
There's near a wanton Wench that hears thee, but thinks thee a Coxcomb for saying so: Marry none of them, if thou wilt have their true Characters, I'll give it thee,— Women are the Purgatory of men's Purses, the Paradise of their bodies, and the Hell of their minds; Marry none of them. Women are in Churches Saints, abroad Angels, at home Devils.  
Here are married men enough, know this: Marry none of them.  Scar. 
Men that traduce by custom, show sharp wit  
Only in speaking Ill, and practise it:  
Against the best of Creatures, divine women  
Who are God's Agents here, and the Heavenly eye  
By which this Orb hath her Maturity;  
Beauty in women, get the world with Child,  
Without whom, she were barren, faint, and wild.  
They are the stems on which do Angels grow,  
From whence Virtue is stilled, and Arts do flow.  Enter Sir john Harcop and his Daughter Clare. Ilf. 
Let them be what Flowers they will, and they were Roses, I will pluck none of them for pricking my fingers. But soft, here comes a voider for us: and I see, do what I can, as long as the world lasts, there will be Cuckolds in it. Do you hear Child, here's one come to blend you together: he has brought you a kneading-tub, if thou dost take her at his hands,  
Though thou hadst Argus eyes, be sure of this,  
Women have sworn with more than one to kiss.  Har. 
Nay no parting Gentlemen: Hem.  Went. 
'sfoot does he make Punks of us, that he Hems already?  Har. 
Gallants,  
Know old john Harcop keeps a wine-cellar,  
Has traveled, been at Court, known Fashions,  
And unto all bears habit like yourselves,  
The shapes of Gentlemen and men of sort.  
I have a health to give them ere they part.  Went. 
Health Knight, not as Drunkards give their healths I hope, to go together by the ears when they have done?  Har. 
My healths are welcome: welcome Gentlemen.  Ilf. 
Are we welcome Knight, in faith.  Har. 
Welcome in faith Sir.  Ilf. 
Prithee tell me hast not thou been a Whoremaster.  Har. 
In youth I swill my fill at Venus' cup,  
In stead of full draughts now I am feign to sup.  Ilf. 
Why then thou art a man fit for my company:  
Dost thou hear that he is a good fellow of our stamp,  
Make much of his father.  Exeunt Manet Scarborrow and Clare. Scar. 
The Father, and the Gallants have left me hear with a Gentlewoman, and if I know what to say to her I am a villain, heaven grant her life hath borrowed so much Impudence of her sex, but to speak to me first: for by this hand, I have not so much steel of Immodesty in my face, to Parley to a Wench without blushing. I'll walk by her, in hope she can open her teeth.— Not a word?— Is it not strange a man should be in a woman's company all this while and not hear her tongue.— I'll go further?— God of his goodness: not a syllable. I think if I should take up her Clothes to, she would say nothing to me.— With what words trow dus a man begin to woe. Gentlewoman pray you what be't o'clock?  Clar. 
Troth Sir, carrying no watch about me but mine eyes, I answer you: I cannot tell.  Scar. 
And if you cannot tell, Beauty I take the Adage for my reply: You are nought to keep sheep.  Clar. 
Yet I am big enough to keep myself.  Scar. 
Prithee tell me: Are you not a Woman?  Clar. 
I know not that neither, till I am better acquainted with a man.  Scar. 
And how would you be acquainted with a man?  Clar. 
To distinguish betwixt himself and myself.  Scar. 
Why I am a Man.  Cla. 
That's more than I know Sir.  Scar. 
To approve I am no less: thus I kiss thee.  Cla. 
And by that proof I am a man too, for I have kissed you.  Scar. 
Prithee tell me can you love?  Clar. 
O Lord Sir, three or four things: I Love my meat, choice of Suitors: Clothes in the Fashion: and like a right woman I love to have my will.  Scar. 
What think you of me for a Husband?  Clar. 
Let me first know, what you think of me for a wife?  Scar. 
Troth I think you are a proper Gentlewoman.  Clar. 
Do you but think so?  Scar. 
Nay I see you are a very perfect proper Gentlewoman.  Clar. 
It is great pity than I should be alone without a proper man.  Scar. 
Your father says I shall marry you.  Clar. 
And I say God forbid Sir: I am a great deal too young.  Scar. 
I love thee by my troth.  Clar. 
O pray you do not so, for then you stray from the steps of Gentility, the fashion among them is to marry first, and love after by leisure.  Scarb. 
That I do love thee, here by heaven I swear, and call it as a witness to this kiss.  Clar. 
You will not enforce me I hope Sir?  Scar. 
Makes me this woman's husband, thou art my Clare,  
Accept my heart, and prove as Chaste, as fair.  Clare, 
O God, you are too hot in your gifts, should I accept them, we should have you plead nonage, some half a year hence: sue for reversement, & say the deed was done under age.  Scar. 
Prithee do not jest?  Cl. 
No (God is my record) I speak in earnest: & desire to know Whether ye mean to marry me, yea or no.  Scar. 
This hand thus takes thee as my loving wife,  Clar. 
For better, for worse.  Scar. 
ay, till death us depart love.  Clar. 
Why then I thank you Sir, and now I am like to have that I long looked for: A Husband.  
How soon from our own tongues is the word said,  
Captives our maiden-freedom to a head.  Scar. 
Clare your are now mine, and I must let you know,  
What every wife doth to her husband owe,  
To be a wife, is to be Dedicate  
Not to a youthful course, wild, and unsteady,  
But to the soul of virtue, obedience,  
Studying to please, and never to offend.  
wives, have two eyes created, not like Birds  
To roam about at pleasure, but for two sentinels,  
To watch their husband's safety as their own,  
Two hands, ones to feed him, the other herself:  
Two feet, and one of them is their husbands,  
They have two of every thing, only of one,  
Their Chastity, that should be his alone.  
Their very thoughts they cannot term them one,  
Maids being once made wives, can nothing call  
Rightly their own; they are their husbands all:  
If such a wife you can prepare to be,  
Clare I am yours: and you are fit for me.  Clar. 
We being thus subdued, pray you know then,  
As women owe a duty, so do men.  
Men must be like the branch and bark to trees,  
Which doth defend them from tempestuous rage,  
Cloth them in Winter, tender them in age,  
Or as Ewes love unto their Eanlings lives,  
Such should be husband's custom to their wives.  
If it appear to them they have strayed amiss,  
They only must rebuke them with a kiss,  
Or Clock them, as hen's Chickens, with kind call,  
Cover them under their wing, and pardon all:  
No jars must make two beds, no strife divide them,  
Those betwixt whom a faith and troth is given,  
Death only parts, since they are knit by heaven:  
If such a husband you intend to be,  
I am your Clare, and you are fit for me.  Scar. 
By heaven.  Clar. 
Advise before you swear, let me remember you,  
Men never give their faith, and promise marriage,  
But heaven records their oath: If they prove true,  
Heaven smiles for joy, if not it weeps for you,  
Unless your heart, then with your words agree,  
Yet let us part, and less us both be free.  Scar. 
If ever man in swearing love, swore true,  
My words are like to his: Here comes your father.  Enter Sir john Harcop, Ilford, Wentloe, Bartley, and Butler. Har. 
Now master Scarborrow.  Sca. 
Prepared to ask how you like that we have done,  
your daughters made my wife, and I your son.  Har. 
And both agreed so.  Both. 
We are Sir,  Har. 
Then long may you live together, have store of sons.  Ilf. 
'tis no matter who is the father.  Har. 
But son here is a man of yours is come from London.  But. 
And brought you Letters Sir.  Scar. 
What news from London Butler.  But. 
The old news Sir, the Ordinaries are full, some Citizens are bankrupts, and many Gentlemen beggars.  Scar. 
Clare here is an unwelcome Pursuivant,  
My Lord and Guardian writes to me with speed,  
I must return to London.  Har. 
And you being Ward to him son Scarborrow,  
And know him great, it fits that you obey him.  Har. 
It does it does, for by an ancient law,  
We are borne free heirs, but kept like slaves in awe,  
Who are for London Gallants?  Ilf. 
Switch and Spur we will bear you company.  Scar. 
Clare I must leave thee, with what unwillingness  
Witness this dwelling kiss upon thy lip,  
And though I must be absent from thine eye,  
Be sure my heart doth in thy bosom lie,  
Three years I am yet a ward, which time I'll pass,  
Making thy faith my constant looking-glass,  
Till when.  Clar. 
Till when you please, where ere you live or lie,  
Your loves here worn, your presence in my eye.  Exeunt Enter Lord Faulconbridge, and sir William Scarborow. Hunsd. 
Sir William,  
How old say you is your kinsman Scarborrow.  Will, 
eighteen my Lord, next Pentecost.  Lord. 
Bethink you good Sir William,  
I reckon thereabout myself, so by that account  
There's full three Winters yet he must attend,  
Under our awe, before he sue his Livery:  
be't not so?  Willi. 
Not a day less my Lord.  Lord. 
Sir William you are his Uncle, and I must speak  
That am his Guardian, would I had a son  
Might merit commendations even with him.  
I'll tell you what he is, he is a youth,  
A Noble branch, increasing blessed fruit.  
Where Caterpillar vice dare not to touch,  
He is himself with so much gravity,  
Praise cannot praise him with Hyperbole:  
He is one whom older look upon, as one a book,  
Wherein are Printed Noble sentences  
For them to rule their lives by. Indeed he is one  
All Emulate his virtues, hate him none.  Willi. 
His friends are proud, to hear this good of him.  Lord. 
And yet Sir William being as he is,  
Young, and unsettled, tho of virtuous thoughts,  
By Genuine disposition, yet our eyes  
See daily precedents, hopeful Gentlemen,  
Being trusted in the world with their own will,  
Divert the good is looked from them to Ill,  
Make their old names forgot, or not worth note  
With company they keep, such reveling  
With Panders, Parasites, Podigies of Knaves,  
That they sell all, even their old father's graves.  
Which to prevent, we'll match him to a wife,  
Marriage Restrains the scope of single life.  Willi. 
My Lord speaks like a father for my Kinsman.  Lord. 
And I have found him one of Noble parentage,  
A Niece of mine, nay I have broke with her,  
Know thus much of her mind, what for my pleasure  
As also for the good appears in him,  
She is pleased of all that's hers to make him King.  Willi. 
Our name is blessed in such an honoured marriage  Enter Doctor Baxter. Lord. 
Also I have appointed Doctor Baxter,  
Chancellor of Oxford to attend me here  
And see he is come. Good master Doctor.  Bax. 
My honourable Lord.  Willi. 
I have possessed you with this business master Doctor  Baxt. 
To see the contract twixt you honoured Niece and master Scarborrow.  Lord. 
'tis so, and I did look for him by this.  Bax. 
I saw him leave his horse as I came up.  Lord. 
So, so.  
Then he will be here forthwith: you Master Baxter  
Go Usher hither straight young Katherine,  
Sir William, here and I will keep this room till you return.  Scar. 
My honourable Lord.  Enter Scarborrow Lord. 
'tis well done Scarborrow.  Scar. 
Kind Uncle.  willi. 
Thanks my good Couz.  Lord. 
You have been welcome in your Country Yorkshire.  Scar. 
The time that I spent there my Lord was merry.  Lord. 
'twas well, 'twas very well, and in your absence,  
your Uncle here and I, have been bethinking  
what gift betwixt us we might bestow on you,  
That to your house large dignity might bring,  
With fair increase, as from a Crystal spring.  Enter Doctor and Katherine. Scar. 
My name is bound to your beneficence,  
your hands hath been to me like bounties purse,  
Never shut up, yourself my foster-Nurse:  
Nothing can from your honour come; prove me so rude,  
But I'll accept to shun Ingratitude.  Lord. 
We accept thy promise, now return thee this,  
A virtuous wife, accept her with a kiss.  Scar. 
My honourable Lord.  Lord. 
Fear not to take her man, she will fear neither,  
Do what thou canst being both a-bed together.  Scar. 
O but my Lord.  Lord. 
But me a Dog of wax, come kiss, and agree,  
Your friends have thought it fit, and it must be.  Scar. 
I have no hands to take her to my wife.  Lord 
How Saucebox.  Scar. 
O pardon me my Lord the unripeness of my years,  
Too green for government, is old in fears  
To undertake that charge.  Lord. 
Sir, sir, I and sir knave, then here is a mellowed experience knows how to teach you,  Scar. 
O God.  Lord. 
O Jack.  
How both our cares, your Uncle and myself,  
Sought, studied, found out, and for your good,  
A maid, a Niece of mine, both fair and chaste,  
And must we stand at your discretion.  Scar. 
O Good my Lord  
Had I two souls, then might I have two wives,  
Had I two faiths, then had I one for her,  
Having of both but one, that one is given  
To Sir john Harcops daughter.  Lord. 
Ha, ha, what's that, let me hear that again?  Scar. 
To Sir john Harcops Clare I have made an oath,  
Part me in twain, yet she's one half of both.  
This hand the which I wear it is half hers,  
Such power hath faith and troth twixt couples young,  
Death only cuts that knot tide with the tongue.  Lord. 
And have you knit that knot Sir.  Scar. 
I have done so much, that if I wed not her,  
My marriage makes me an Adulterer,  
In which black sheets, I wallow all my life,  
My babes being Bastards, and a whore my wife.  Enter secretary Lord. 
Ha, be't even so, My secretary there,  
Write me a Letter straight to Sir john Harcop,  
I'll see Sir Jack and if that Harcop dare,  
Being my Ward, contract you to his daughter.  Exit secret. 
My steward too, post you to Yorkshire,  Enter steward. 
Where lies my youngsters Land, and sirrah,  
Fell me his wood, make havoc, spoil and waste.  Exit steward 
Sir you shall know that you are Ward to me,  
I'll make you poor enough: then mend yourself.  Will. 
O cousin.  scar. 
O Uncle.  Lord. 
Contract yourself and where you list,  
I'll make you know me Sir to be your guard.  scar. 
World now thou seest what 'tis to be a ward.  Lord 
And where I meant myself to have disbursed  
four thousand pound, upon this marriage  
Surrendered up your land to your own use,  
And compassed other portions to your hands,  
Sir I'll now yoke you still.  scar. 
A yoke indeed.  Huns. 
And spite of they dare contradict my will,  
I'll make thee marry to my Chambermaid. come cousin.  Exit. Bax. 
Faith Sir it fits you to be more advised.  scar. 
Do not you flatter for preferment sir  willi. 
O but good coz.  scar. 
O but good uncle could I command my love,  
Or cancel oaths out of heavens brazen book,  
Engrossed by Gods own finger, than you might speak.  
Had men that law to love as most have tongues  
To love a thousand women with, than you might speak.  
Were love like dust lawful for every Wind,  
To bear from place to place, were oaths but puffs,  
Men might forswear themselves, but I do know,  
Though sin being passed with us, the acts forgot,  
The poor soul groans, and she forgets it not.  willi. 
Yet hear your own case?  scar. 
O 'tis to miserable:  
That I a Gentleman should be thus torn  
From mine own right, and forest to be forsworn.  will. 
Yet being as it is, it must be your care,  
To salve it with advice, not with despair,  
you are his ward, being so, the Law intends,  
He is to have your duty, and in his rule  
Is both your marriage, and your heritage,  
If you rebel against these Injunctions,  
The penalty takes hold on you, which for himself,  
He straight thus prosecutes, he wastes your land,  
Weds you where he thinks fit, but if yourself  
Have of some violent humour matched yourself,  
Without his knowledge, then hath he power  
To Merce your purse, and in a sum so great,  
That shall for ever keep your fortunes weak,  
Where otherwise if you be ruled by him  
Your house is raised by matching to his kin.  Enter Falconbridge Lord. 
Now death of me, shall I be crossed by such a Jack, he wed  
himself, and where he list: Sirrah malapert, I'll hamper you,  
You that will have your will, come get you in:  
I'll make thee shape thy thoughts to marry her,  
Or wish thy birth had been thy murderer.  Scar. 
Fare pity me, because I am enforced,  
For I have heard those matches have cost blood,  
Where love is once begun and then withstood,  Exeunt. Enter Ilford and a Page with him. Ilf. 
Boy, hast thou delivered my Letter?  Boy. 
I Sir, I saw him open the lips on't.  Ilf. 
He had not a new suit on, had he?  Boy. 
I am not so well acquainted with his Wardrobe Sir, but I saw a lean fellow, with sunk eyes, and shamble legs, sigh pitifully at his chamber door, and entreat his man to put his master in mind of him.  Ilf. 
O, that was his tailor, I see now he will be blessed he profits by my counsel, he will pay no debts before he be arrested, nor then neither, if he can find ere a beast that dare but be bail for him, but he will seal i'th' afternoon.  Boy. 
Yes Sir, he will imprint for you as deep as he can.  Ilf. 
Good, good, now have I a parson's Nose, and smell tithe coming in then. Now let me number how many rooks I have half undone already this Term by the first return: four by Dice, six by being bound with me, and ten by queans, of which some be Courtiers, some Country Gentlemen, and some citizens Sons. Thou art a good Frank, if thou purgest thus, thou art still a Companion for Gallants, mayst keep a Catamite, take Physic, at the Spring and the fall.  Enter Wentloe. wont. 
Frank, news that will make thee fat Frank.  Ilf. 
Prithee rather give me somewhat will keep me lean,  
I ha' no mind yet to take Physic.  Wen. 
Master Scarberrow is a married man.  Ilf. 
Then heaven grant he may, as few married men do, make much of his wife.  Went. 
Why? wouldst have him love her, let her command all, and make her his master?  Ilf. 
No no, they that do so, make not much of their wives, but give them their will, and it's the marring of 'em.  Enter Bartley. Bart. 
Honest Frank, valorous Francke, a portion of thy wit, but to help us in this enterprise, and we may walk London street and cry pish at the sergeants.  Ilf. 
You may shift out one term, and yet die in the Counter, these are the scabs now that hang upon honest job, I am job, and these art the scurvy scabs, but what's this your pot seethes over withal?  Bart. 
Master Scarborrow is a married man.  Went. 
He has all his land in his own hand.  Bart. 
His brothers and sister's portions.  Went. 
Besides four thousand pound in ready money with his wife.  Ilf. 
A good talon by my faith, it might help many Gentlemen to pay their Tailors, and I might be one of them.  Went. 
Nay, honest Frank, hast thou found a trick for him, if thou hast not, look here's a line to direct thee. First draw him into bands for money, then to dice for it: Then take up stuff at the Mercers, straight to a punk with it: Then mortgage his Land, and be drunk with that: so with them and the rest, from an Ancient Gentleman, make him a young beggar.  Ilf. 
What a Rogue is this, to read a lecture to me, and mine own lesson too, which he knows I ha' made perfect to 9 hundred fourscore and nineteen. A cheating Rascal will teach me that ha' made them that have worn a spacious Park, Lodge and all of their backs this morning: been fain to pawn it afore night, and they that ha' stalked like a huge Elephant, with a Castle on their necks, and removed that to their own shoulders in one day which their fathers built up in seven year, been glad by my means, in so much time as a child sucks, to drink bottle Ale, though a punk pay for't. And shall this Parat instruct me?  Went. 
Nay but Frank.  Ilf. 
A rogue that hath fed upon me, & the fruit of my wit like Pullen from a pantler's chippings, and now I put him into good clothes to shift two suits in a day, that could scare shift a patched shirt once in a year, and says prayers when he had it: hark, how he prates.  Went. 
Besides Frank, since his marriage, he stalks me like a cashiered Captain discontent, in which Melancholy, the least drop of mirth, of which thou hast an Ocean, will make him, and all his ours for ever.  Ilf. 
Says mine own Rogue so, give me thy hand then, we'll do't, and there's earnest. Strikes him. 'sfoot you Chitty-face, that looks worse than a Collier through a wooden window, an Ape afeard of a whip, or a knaves head, shook seven years in the weather upon London-bridge. Do you Catechize me?  Wen. 
Nay but valorous Frank, he that knows the secrets of all hearts, knows I did it in kindness.  Ilf. 
Know your seasons: besides, I am not of that Species for you to instruct. Then know your seasons.  Bart. 
'sfoot friends, friends, all friends: Here comes young Scarborrow, should he knew of this, all our designs were prevented.  Enter Scarborrow. Ilf. 
What, melancholy my young master, my young married man, God give your worship joy.  Scar. 
joy, of what Frank?  Ilf. 
Of thy wealth, for I hear of few that ha' joy of heir wives  Scar. 
Who weds as I have to enforced sheets,  
His care increaseth, but his comfort fleets.  Ilf. 
Thou having so much wit, what a Devil meantst thou to marry?  Scar. 
O speak not of it,  
Marriage sounds in mine care like a Bell,  
Not rung for pleasure, but a doleful knell.  Ilf. 
A common course, those men that are married in the Morning, to wish themselves buried ere night.  Scar. 
I cannot love her.  Ilf. 
No news neither, wives know that's a general fault amongst their Husbands.  Scar. 
I will not lie with her.  Ilf. 
Cetera volunt she'll say still, if you will not, another will.  Scar. 
Why did she marry me, knowing I did not love her.  Ilf. 
As other women do, either to be maintained by you, or to make you a Cuckold. Now sir, what come you for?  Enter Clown. Clow. 
As men do in haste, to make an end of their business.  Ilf. 
What's your business?  Clow. 
My business is this Sir, this Sir, and this Sir,  Ilf. 
The meaning of all this Sir. Cl. By this is as much as to say Sir, may Mai. has sent unto you. By this is as much as to say Sir, my master has him humbly commended unto you, and by this is as much as to say, my master craves your answer.  Ilf. 
Give me your Letter. And you shall have this Sir, this Sir, and this Sir.  Clow. 
No Sir.  Ilford. 
Why Sir?  Clow. 
Because as the learned have very well instructed me, Qui supranos, nihil ad nos, and though many Gentlemen will have to do with other men's business, yet from me know, the most part of them prove knaves for their labour.  Went. 
You ha' the Knave i'faith Frank.  Clo. 
Long may he live to enjoy it. From Sir john Harcop of Harcop, in the County of York Knight, by me his man, to yourself my young master, by these presents greeting.  Ilf. 
How camest thou by these good words?  Clow. 
As you by your good clothes, took them upon trust, & swore I would never pay for 'em.  Scar. 
Thy master Sir john Harcop writes to me,  
That I should entertain thee for my man,  
His wish is acceptable, thou art welcome fellow.  
Oh but thy masters Daughter, sends an Article  
Which makes me think upon my present sin,  
Here she remembers me to keep in mind  
My promised faith to her, which I ha' broke.  
Here she remembers me I am a man,  
Black tore with perjury, whose sinful breast,  
Is Charactered like those cursed of the blessed.  Ilf. 
How now my young Bully, like a young wench forty weeks after the loss of her Maidenhead, crying out.  Scar. 
Trouble me not,  
Give me Pen, Ink, and Paper, I will write to her,  
O? but what shall I write?  
Mine own excuse, why no excuse can serve  
For him that swears, and from his oath doth serve?  
Or shall I say, my marriage was in so rest,  
'twas bad in them, not well in me to yield.  
Wretched thee to whose marriage was compelled,  
I'll only write that which my grave hath bred,  
Forgive me Clare, for I am married:  
'tis soon set down, but not so soon forgot, or worn from hence.  
Deliver it unto her, there's for thy pains,  
Would I as soon could cleanse these perjured stains.  Clow. 
Well, I could alter mine eyes from filthy mud into fair water: you have paid for my tears, and mine eyes shall prove bankrupts, and break out for you, let no man persuade me, I will cry, and every Town betwixt Shoreditch-church and York bridge, shall bear me witness.  Exit. Scar. 
Gentlemen, I'll take my leave of you,  
She that I am married to but not my wife,  
Will London leave, in Yorkshire lead our life.  Ilf. 
We must not leave you so my young Gallant,  
We three are sick in state, and your wealth must help to make us whole again.  
For this saying, is as true as old:  
Strife nursed twixt man and wife, makes such a flaw,  
How great so e'er's their wealth, 'twill have a thaw,  Enter Sir john Harcop with his Daughter Clare, and two younger Brothers, Thomas, and john Scarborrow. Har. 
Brothers to him ere long shall be my son,  
By wedding this young girl: You are welcome both,  
Nay kiss her, kiss, though that she shall  
Be your Brother's wife, to kiss the cheek is free.  Tho. 
Kiss, 'sfoot what else? thou art a good plump wench, I like you well, prithee make haste and bring store of boys, but be sure they have good faces, that they may call me uncle.  Io. 
Glad of so fair a sister, I salute you.  Har. 
Good, good i'faith, this kissings good i'faith,  
I loved to smack it too when I was young,  
But Mum: they have felt thy cheek Clare, let them hear thy tongue.  Clar. 
Such welcome as befits my Scarborrow's brothers,  
From me his troth-plight wife be sure to have,  
And though my tongue prove scant in any part,  
The bounds be sure are large, full in my heart.  Tho. 
Tut, that's not that we doubt on wench, but do you hear Sir john, what do you think drew me from London, and the Inns of Court, thus far into Yorkshire?  Har. 
I guess to see this girl, shall be your sister.  Tho. 
Faith, and I guess partly so too, but the main was, and I will not lie to you, that your coming now in this wise into our kindred, I might be acquainted with you aforehand, that after my brother had married your daughter, I his brother might borrow some money of you.  Har. 
What? Do you borrow of your kindred Sir?  Thom. 
'sfoot what else, they having interest in my blood, why should not I have interest in their coin. Besides Sir, I being a younger brother, would be ashamed of my generation if I would not borrow of any man that would lend, especially of my affinity, of whom I keep a Calendar. And look you Sir, thus I go over them. First o'er my Uncles, often o'er mine Ants, then up to my Nephews, straight down to my Nieces, to this cozen Thomas, and that cozen jeffrey, leaving the courteous claw given to none of their elbows, even unto the third and fourth remove of any that hath interest in our blood. All which do upon their summons made by me, duly and faithfully provide for appearance, and so as they are, I hope we shall be, more endeared, entirely, better, and more feelingly acquainted.  Har. 
you are a merry Gentleman.  Tho. 
'tis the hope of money makes me so, and I know none but fools use to be sad with it.  Ioh. 
From Oxford am I drawn, from serious studies  
Expecting that my brother still had sojourned  
With you his best of choice, and this good Knight.  Har. 
His absence shall not make our hearts less merry  
Than if we had his presence. A day ere long,  
Will bring him back, when one the other meets,  
At noon i'th' Church, at night between the sheets.  
we'll wash this chat with wine. Some wine: fill up,  
The sharpener of the wit, is a full cup.  
And so to you Sir.  Tho. 
Do, and I'll drink, to my new sister, but upon this condition, that she may have quiet days, little rest a-nights, ha' pleasant afternoons, be pliant to my brother, and lend me money whensoe'er I'll borrow it.  Har. 
Nay, nay, nay,  
Women are weak and we must bear with them,  
Your frolic healths, are only fit for men,  Tho. 
Well, I am contented, women must to the wall, though it be to a featherbed. Fill up then.  Enter Clown. Clo. 
From London am I come, though not with pipe and Drum,  
Yet I bring matter, in this poor paper,  
Will make my young mistress, delighting in kisses,  
Do as all Maidens will, hearing of such an ill,  
As to have lost, the thing they wished most,  
A Husband, a Husband, a pretty sweet Husband,  
Cry oh, oh, oh, and alas, And at last ho, ho, ho, as I do.  Clar. 
Returned so soon from London? What's the news?  Clow. 
O mistress, if ever you have seen Demonicea clear look into mine eyes, mine eyes are Severn, plain Severn, the Thames, nor the River of Tweed are nothing to 'em: Nay all the rain that fell at Noah's flood, had not the discretion that my eyes have: that drunk but up the whole world, and I ha' drowned all the way betwixt this and London.  Cla. 
Thy news good Robin.  Clow. 
My news mistress, I'll tell you strange news, the dust upon London way, being so great, that not a Lord, Gentleman, Knight, or Knave could travel, lest his eyes should be blown out: At last, they all agreed to hire me to go before them, when I looking but upon this Letter, did with this water, this very water, lay the dust, as well as if it had rained from the beginning of April to the last of May.  Clar. 
A Letter from my Scarborrow, give it thy mistress.  Clow. 
But Mistress.  Cla. 
Prithee be gone,  
I would not have my father nor this Gentlemen,  
Be witness of the comfort it doth bring.  Clo. 
Oh but mistress.  Cla. 
Prithee begone,  
With this, and the glad news, leave me alone.  Exit Clo. Tho. 
'tis your turn Knight, take your liquor, know I am bountiful, I'll forgive any man any thing that he owes me, but his drink, and that I'll be paid for.  Cla. 
May Gentlemen the honesty of mirth  
Consists not in Carousing with excess,  
My father hath more welcomes then in wine:  
Pray you no more.  Tho. 
Says my sister so, I'll be ruled by thee then. Do you hear, in hope hereafter you'll lend me some money, now we are half drunk let's go to dinner. Come Knight.  Exeunt. Manet Cla. Clar. 
I am glad you're gone,  
Shall I now open't: no, I'll kiss it first,  
Because his outside last did kiss his hand.  
Within this fold, I'll callit a sacred sheet,  
Are writ black lines, when our white hearts shall meet,  
Before I open this door of my delight,  
Methinks I guess how kindly he doth write,  
Of his true Love to me, as Chuck, Sweetheart,  
I prithee do not think the time too long,  
That keeps us from the sweets of marriage rites,  
And then he sets my name and kisses it,  
Wishing my lips his sheet to write upon,  
With like desire methinks as mine own thoughts,  
Ask him now here for me to look upon,  
Yet at the last thinking his love too slack,  
Ere it arrive at my desired eyes,  
He hastens up his message with like speed,  
Even as I break this ope, wishing to read:  
Oh: what's hear? Mine eyes are not mine own? sure theyare not,  
Though you ha' been my lamps this sixteen years,  Let's fall the Let. 
You do bely, my Scarborrow reading so;  
Forgive him, he is married, that were Ill:  
What lying lights are these. Look I ha' no such Letter,  
No wedded syllable of the least wrong  
Done to a Troth-plight-Virgin like myself.  
Beshrew you for your blindness: Forgive him, he is married.  
I know my Scarborough's constancy to me,  
Is as firm knit, as faith to Charity,  
That I shall kiss him often, hug him thus,  
Be made a happy and a fruitful Mother  
Of many prosperous children like to him,  
And read I, he was married? Asked forgiveness?  
What a blind Fool was I? yet here's a Letter  
To whom directed trow? To my beloved Clare.  
Why la?  
Women will read, and read not that they saw,  
'twas but my fervent love misled mine eyes,  
I'll once again to the Inside, Forgive me, I am married:  
william Scarborrow. He has set his name too't to,  
O perjury? within the hearts of men  
Thy feasts are kept, their tongues proclaimeth them.  Enter Thomas Scarborrow. Tho. 
Sister, God's precious, the clothes laid, the meat cools, we all stay, and your father calls for you.  Clar. 
Kind Sir, excuse me I pray you a little,  
I'll but peruse this Letter and come straight.  Tho. 
Pray you make haste, the meat stays for us, and our stomachs  
Ready for the meat, for believe this,  
Drink makes men hungry, or it makes them lie,  
And he that's drunk o'er night, i'th' morning's dry,  
Seen and approved.  Exit. Clar. 
He was contracted mine, yet he unjust  
Hath married to another: what's my estate then?  
A wretched maid, not fit for any man,  
For being united his with plighted faiths,  
whoever sues to me commits a sin,  
Besiegeth me, and who shall marry me:  
Is like myself, lives in Adultery, (O God)  
That such hard Fortune, should betide my youth.  
I am Young, Fair, Rich, Honest, Virtuous,  
yet for all this, who ere shall marry me  
I am but his where, live in Adultery.  
I cannot step into the path of pleasure  
For which I was created, borne unto,  
Let me live near so honest, rich or poor,  
If I once wed, yet I must live a whore.  
I must be made a strumpet 'gainst my will,  
A name I have abhorred, a shameful Ill  
I have eschewed, and now cannot withstand it  
In myself. I am my father's only child,  
In me he hath a hope, though not his name  
Can be increased, yet by my Issue  
His land shall be possessed, his age delighted.  
And though that I should vow a single life  
To keep my soul unspotted, yet will he  
Enforce me to a marriage:  
So that my grief doth of that weight consist,  
It helps me not to yield, nor to resist:  
And was I then created for a Whore? A whore,  
Bad name, bad act, Bad man makes me a scorn:  
Then live a Strumpet? Better be unborn.  Enter john Scarborow 
Sister, Pray you will you come,  
Your father and the whole meeting stays for you.  Clar. 
I come, I come, I pray return: I come.  john 
I must not go without you.  Clare, 
Be thou my Usher, sooth I'll follow you  Exit. 
He writes here to forgive him, he is married:  
False Gentleman: I do forgive thee with my heart,  
Yet will I send an answer to thy letter,  
And in so short words thou shalt weep to read them,  
And hears my agent ready: Forgive me, I am dead.  
'tis writ, and I will act it: Be judge you Maids  
Have trusted the false promises of men.  
Be judge you wives, the which have been enforced  
From the white sheets you loved, to them ye loathed:  
Whether this Axiom may not be assured,  
Better one sin, than many be endured.  
My arms embracings, Kisses, Chastity,  
Were his possessions: and whilst I live  
He doth but steal those pleasures he enjoys,  
Is an Adulterer in his married arms,  
And never goes to his defiled bed,  
But God writes sin upon the Tasters head.  
I'll be a Wife now, help to save his soul  
Though I have lost his body, give a slake  
To his iniquities, and with one sin  
Done by this hand, end many done by him.  
Farewell the world, then farewell the wedded joys  
Till this I have hoped for, from that Gentleman,  
Scarborrow, forgive me: thus thou hast lost thy wife,  
Yet record would, though by an act too foul,  
A wife thus did to cleanse her husband's soul.  Enter Sir john Harcop. Har. 
God's precious, for his mercy, where's this wench?  
Must all my friends and guests attend on you?  
Where are you Minion?  Clar. 
Scarborrow come close mine eyes, for I am dead.  Har. 
That sad voice was not hers I hope:  
whose's this, my daughter?  Clar. 
Your daughter,  
That begs of you to see her buried,  
Prays Scarborrow to forgive her: she is dead.  dies. Har. 
Patience good tears, and let my words have way  
Clare, my daughter, help my servants there:  
Lift up thine eyes, and look upon thy father,  
They were not borne to lose their light so soon,  
I did beget thee for my comforter,  
And not to be the Author of my care.  
Why speakst thou not? Some help my Servants there:  
What hand hath made thee pale? Or if thine own,  
What cause hadst thou that wert thy father's joy,  
The Treasure of his age, the Cradle of his sleep,  
His all in all? I prithee speak to me?  
Thou art not ripe for death, come back again,  
Clare, my Clare, If death must needs have one,  
I am the fittest, prithee let me go,  
Thou dying whilst I live, I am dead with woe.  Enter Thomas, and john Scarborrow. Tho. 
What means this outcry?  Io. 
O ruthful spectacle.  Har. 
Thou wert not wont to be so sullen child,  
But kind and loving to thy aged father:  
Awake, awake, If't be thy lasting sleep,  
Would I had not sense for grief, nor eyes to weep.  Io. 
What Papers this, the sad contents doth tell me,  
My Brother writ, he hath broke his faith to her,  
And she replies, for him she hath killed herself.  Har. 
Was that the cause that thou hast soiled thyself,  
With these red spots, these blemishers of beauty?  
My child, my child, was't perjury in him,  
Made thee so fair, act now so foul a fin,  
That he deceived thee in a Mother's hopes,  
Posterity, the bliss of marriage?  
Thou hast no tongue to answer no, or I,  
But in red Letters writes: For him I die.  
Curse on his Traitorous tongue, his youth, his blood,  
His pleasures, Children, and possessions,  
Be all his days like winter, comfortless:  
Restless his nights, his wants remorseless,  
And may his Corpse be the physicians stage,  
Which played upon, stands not to honoured Age,  
Or with diseases may he lie and pine,  
Till grief wastes blood, his eyes, as grief doth mine.  Exit. Ioh. 
O good old man, made wretched by this deed,  
The more thy age, were to be pitied.  Enter Scarborrow, his wife Katherine, Ilford, Wentlo, Barley and Butler. Ilf. 
What ride by the gate, & not call, that were a shame i'faith.  Went. 
we'll but taste of his Beer, kiss his Daughter, and to horse again, where's the good Knight hear?  Scar. 
You bring me to my shame unwillingly.  Ilf. 
Shamed of what, for deceiving of a wench, I ha' not blushed,  
that ha' done't to a hundred of 'em.  
In women's love he's wise, doth follow this,  
Love one so long till her another kiss.  
Where's the good Knight here?  Io. 
O Brother, you are come to make your eye  
Sad mourner at a fatal Tragedy.  
Peruse this Letter first, and then this Corpse.  Scar. 
O wronged Clare? Accursed Scarborrow?  
I writ to her, that I was married,  
She writes to me, forgive her she is dead:  
I'll balm thy body with my faithful tears,  
And be perpetual mourner at thy Tomb,  
I'll sacrifice this Commit into sighs,  
Make a consumption of this pile of man,  
And all the benefits my parents gave,  
Shall turn distempered to appease the wrath  
For this blood shed, and I am guilty of.  Kat. 
Dear husband.  Scar. 
False woman, not my wife, though married to me,  
Look what thy friends, and thou art guilty of,  
The murder of a creature, equalled heaven  
In her Creation, whose thoughts like fire,  
Never looked base, but ever did aspire  
To blessed benefits, till you and yours undid her,  
Eye her, view, though dead, yet she does look,  
Like a fresh frame, or a new printed book  
Of the best paper, never looked into,  
But with one sullied finger, which did spot her,  
Which was her own too, but who was cause of it,  
Thou and thy friends, and I will loathe thee for't.  Enter Sir john Harcop. Har. 
They do belie her that do say she's dead,  
She is but strayed to some by-gallery,  
And I must ha' her again. Clare, where art thou Clare?  Scar. 
Here, laid to take her everlasting sleep.  Har. 
A lies that says so,  
Yet now I know thee, I do lie that say it,  
For if she be a villain like thyself,  
A perjured Traitor, recreant, miscreant,  
Dog, a dog, a dog, has dunt.  Scar. 
O Sir john Harcop.  Hra. 
O Sir john villain, to be troth thyself  
To this good creature, harmless, harmless child,  
This kernel hope, and comfort of my house,  
Without Enforcement, of thine own accord,  
Draw all her soul i'th' compass of an oath,  
Take that oath from her, make her for none but thee,  
And then betray her?  Scar. 
Shame on them were the cause of it.  Har. 
But hark what thou hast got by it,  
Thy wife is but a strumpet, thy children Bastards,  
thyself a murderer, thy wife, accessory,  
Thy bed a stews, thy house a Brothel.  Scar. 
O, 'tis too true.  Har. 
ay, made a wretched father childless.  Scar. 
ay, made a married man, yet wifeless.  Har. 
Thou the cause of it.  Scar. 
Thou the cause of it.  Har. 
Curse on the day that ere it was begun,  
For I an old man am, undone, undone.  Exit Scar. 
For Charity have care upon your father,  
lest that his grief, bring on a more mishap,  
This to my arms, my sorrow shall bequeath,  
Though I have lost her, to thy grave I'll bring,  
Thou wert my wife, and I'll thy Requiem sing:  
Go you to the Country, I'll to London back,  
All riot now, since that my souls so black.  Exit with Clare. Ka. 
Thus am I left like sea-tossed-mariners,  
My Fortunes being no more than my distress,  
Upon what shore soever I am driven,  
Be it good or bad, I must account it heaven,  
Though married, I am reputed not a wife,  
Neglected of my Husband, scorned, despised,  
And though my love and true obedience  
Lies prostrate to his beck, his heedless eye,  
Receives my services unworthily.  
I know no cause, nor will be cause of none,  
But hope for better days when bad be gone,  
You are my guide, whether must I, Butler?  But. 
Toward Wakefield, where my masters living lies.  Ka. 
Toward Wakefield where thy master we'll attend,  
When things are at the worst, 'tis hoped they'll mend.  Enter Thomas, and john Scarborrow. Tho. 
How now sister, no further forward on your journey yet?  Ka. 
When griefs before one, who'd go on to grief,  
I'd rather turn me back to find some comfort.  john 
And that way sorrows hurtfuller than this,  
My Brother having brought unto a grave,  
That murdered body whom he called his wife,  
And spent so many tears upon her Hearse,  
As would have made a Tyrant to relent,  
Then kneeling at her Coffin, thus he vowed,  
From thence he never would embrace your bed.  Tho. 
The more Fool he.  john 
Never from hence acknowledge you his wife,  
When others strive to enrich their father's name,  
It should be his only aim, to beggar his,  
To spend their means, and in his only pride,  
Which with a sigh confirmed, he's rid to London,  
Vowing a course, that by his life so foul  
Men near should join the hands, without the soul.  Kath. 
All is but grief, and I am armed for it.  john 
we'll bring you on your way in hope that's strong  
Time may at length make straight. what yet is wrong.  Exit. Enter Ilford, Wentloe, Bartley. Went. 
he's our own, he's our own, Come, let's make use of his wealth, as the snow of Ice: Melt it, melt it.  Ilf. 
But art sure he will hold his meeting.  Wen. 
As sure as I am now, & was dead drunk last night.  Ilf. 
Why then so sure will I be arrested by a couple of Sergeants, and fall into one of the unlucky Cranks about Cheapside, called Counters.  Bar. 
Withal, I have provided M. Gripe the Usurer, who upon the instant will be ready to step in, charge the Sergeants to keep thee fast, and that now he will have his five hundred pounds, or thou shalt rot for it.  Went: 
When it follows, young Scarborow shall be bound for the one: then take up as much more, we share the one half, & help him to be drunk with the other.  Ilf. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Enter Scarborow. Bar. 
Why, dost laugh Frank?  Ilf. 
To see that we and usurers line by the fall of young heirs as swine by the dropping of Acorns. But he's come. Where be these Rogues? shall we ha' no tendance here?  Scarb. 
Good day Gentlemen.  Ilf. 
A thousand good days, my noble Bully, and as many good fortunes as there were Grasshoppers in Egypt, and that's covered over with good luck: but Nouns, Pronouns, and Participles. Where be these Rogues here: what, shall we have no Wine here?  Enter Drawer. Drawer 
Anon, anon, sir.  Ilf. 
Anon, goodman Rascal, must we stay your leisure? gi't us by and by, with a pox to you.  Scar. 
O, do not hurt the fellow?  Exit Drawer Ilf. 
Hurt him, hang him, Scrape-trencher, star-warren, Wine spiller, metal-clancker, Rogue by generation. Why, dost hear Will? If thou dost not use these Grape-spillers as you do their pottle-pots, quoit 'em down stairs three or four times at a supper, they le grow as saucy with you as Sergeants, and make bills more unconscionable than Tailors.  Enter Drawer Draw. 
Here's the pure and neat grape Gent. I hate for you.  Ilford. 
Fill up: what ha' you brought here, goodman rogue?  Drawer 
The pure element of Claret sir.  Ilf. 
ha' you so, and did not I call for Rhenish you apparel?  Throws the wine in the Drawers face. Scar. 
Thou needst no wine, I prithee be more mild?  Ilf. 
Be mild in a Tavern, 'tis treason to the red Lettice, enemy to their sign post, and slave to humour:  
Prithee, let's be mad,  
Then fill our heads with wine, till every pate be drunk,  
Then piss i'the street, jostle all you meet, and with a Punk,  
As thou wilt do now and then: Thank me thy good  
Master, that brought thee to it.  Went. 
Nay, he profits well, but the worst is he will not swear yet  Scar. 
Do not bely me: If there be any good in me that's the best: Oaths are necessary for nothing, They pass out of a man's mouth, like smoke through a chimney, that files all the way it goes.  Went. 
Why then I think Tobacco be a kind of swearing, for it furs our nose pockily.  Scar. 
But come, let's drink ourselves into a stomach afore supper.  Ilf. 
Agreed. I'll begin with a new health. Fill up.  
To them that make Land fly,  
By wine, whores, and a Die.  
To them, that only thrives,  
By kissing others Wives.  
To them that pay for clothes,  
With nothing but with Oaths:  
Care not from whom they get,  
So they may be in debt:  
This health my hearts  drinks. 
But who their Tailors pay,  
Borrow, and keep their day,  
we'll hold him like this Glass,  
A brainless empty Ass,  
And not a mate for us.  
Drink round my hearts.  Wen. 
An excellent health.  Enter Drawer. 
Master Ilford, there's a couple of strangers beneath desires to speak with you.  Ilf. 
What beards ha' they? Gentleman-like-beards, or broker-like-beards?  Drawer 
I am not so well acquainted with the Art of Face mending sir: but they would speak with you.  Ilf. 
I'll go down to 'em.  Went. 
Do: and we'll stay here and drink Tobacco.  Scarb. 
Thus like a Fever that doth shake a man  
From strength to weakness, I consume myself:  
I know this company, their custom wild,  
Hated, abhorred of goodmen, yet like a child  
By reason's rule instructed how to know  
Evil from good, I to the worser go.  
Why do you suffer this, you upper powers,  
That I should surfeit in the sin I taste, have sense to feel my mischief, yet make waste  
Of heaven and earth:  
myself will answer, what myself doth ask?  
Who once doth cherish sin, begets his shame,  
For vice being fostered once, comes Impudence,  
Which makes men count sin, Custom, not offence,  
When all like me, their reputation blot,  
Pursuing evil, while the good 's forgot got.  Enter Ilford led in by a couple of Sergeants, and Gripe the Usurer. Ser. 
Nay, never strive, we can hold you.  Ilf. 
ay, me, and any man else, and a fall into your Clutches: Let go your tugging, as I am a Gentleman, I'll be your true prisoner.  Wen. 
How now: what's the matter Frank?  Ilf. 
I am fallen into the hands of sergeants, I am arrested.  Bart. 
How, arrest a Gentleman in our company?  Ilf. 
Put up, put up, for sins sake put up, let's not all sup in the Counter tonight, let me speak with master Gripe the Creditor.  Grip. 
Well: what say you to me Sir?  Ilf. 
You have arrested me here master Gripe.  Gri. 
Not I Sir, the sergeants have.  Ilf. 
But at your suit master Gripe: yet hear me, as I am a Gent.  Gri. 
I rather you could say as you were an honest man, and then I might believe you.  Ilf. 
Yet hear me.  Gri. 
Hear me no hearings, I lent you my money for good will.  Ilf. 
And I spent it for mere necessity, I confess I owe you five hundred pound, and I confess I owe not a penny to any man, but he would be glad to hate: my bond you have already master Gripe If you will, now take my word.  Grip. 
Word me no words: Officers look to your prisoner: If you cannot either make me present payment, or put me in security such as I shall like too.  Ilf. 
Such as you shall like too: what say you to this young Gent. He is the widgen that we must feed upon.  Grip. 
Who young master Scarborrow, he is an honest Gentleman for aught I know, I near lost penny by him.  Ilf. 
I would be ashamed any man should say so by me, that I have had dealings withal: But my enforced friends, wilt please you but to retire into some small distance, whilst I descend with a few words to these Gentlemen, and I'll commit myself into your hands immediately.  Ser. 
Well sir we'll wait upon you.  Ilf. 
Gentlemen I am to proffer some conference, and in especially to you master Scarborrow, our meeting here for your mirth hath proved to me thus adverse, that in your companies I am Arrested: How ill it will stand with the flourish of your reputations when men of rank and note communicate, that I Frank Ilford, Gentleman. whose Fortunes may transcend, to make ample Gratuities future, and heap satisfaction for any present extension of his friend's kindness, was Enforced from the Mitre in Bredstreet, to the Counter i'th' Poultry: for mine own part, if you shall think it meet, and that it shall accord with the state of gentry, to submit myself from the featherbed in the masters side, or the Flock-bed in the knight's ward, to the straw-bed in the hole, I shall buckle to my heels instead of guilt spurs, the armour of patience, and do't.  Went. 
Come, come, what a pox need all this, this is Mellis Flora, the sweetest of the honey, he that was not made to fat Cattle, but to feed Gentlemen.  Bart. 
You wear good clothes.  Wen. 
Are well descended.  Bart. 
Keep the best company.  Went. 
Should regard your credit.  Bar. 
Stand not upon't, be bound, be bound.  Wen. 
Ye are richly married.  Bar. 
Love not your wife.  Wen. 
Have store of friends.  Bar. 
Who shall be your heir.  Wen. 
The son of some slave.  Bar. 
Some groom.  Wen. 
Some Horse-keeper.  Bart. 
Stand not upon't, be bound, be bound.  Scar. 
Well at your Importance, for once I'll stretch my purse Whose borne to sink, as good this way as worse.  went. 
Now speaks my Bully like a Gentleman of worth.  Bart. 
Of merit.  went. 
Fit to be regarded.  Bar. 
That shall command our souls.  went. 
Our swords.  Bart. 
ourselves.  Ilf. 
To feed upon you as Pharaoh's lean kine did upon the fat.  Scar. 
Master Gripe is my bond currant for this Gentleman.  Ilf. 
Good security you Egyptian Grasshopper, good security?  Gri. 
And for as much more kind Master Scarborrow.  
Provided that men mortal as we are,  
May have.  Scar. 
May have security.  Gri. 
Your bond with land conveyed, which may assure me of mine own again.  Scar. 
You shall be satisfied, and I'll become your debtor, for full five hundred more than he doth owe you.  
This night we sup here, bear us company,  
And bring your Counsel, Scrivener, and the money with you,  
Where I will make as full assurance as in the Law you'd wish.  Gri. 
I take your word Sir,  
And so discharge you of your prisoner.  Ilf. 
Why then let's come and take up a new room, the infected hath spit in this.  
He that hath store of Coin, wants not a friend,  
Thou shalt receive sweet rogue, and we will spend.  Exeunt. Enter Thomas and john Scarborrow, Ioh. 
Brother, you see the extremity of want  
Enforceth us to question for our own,  
The rather that we see, not like a Brother  
Our Brother keeps from us to spend on other.  Tho. 
True, he has in his hands our portions, the patrimony which our Father gave us, with which he lies fatting himself with Sack and sugar in the house, and we are feign to walk with lean purses abroad. Credit must be maintained which will not be without money, Good clothes must be had, which will not be without money, company must be kept which will not be without money, all which we must have, and from him we will have money.  Io. 
Besides, we have brought our sister to this Town,  
That she herself having her own from him,  
Might bring herself in Court to be preferred,  
Under some Noble parsonage, or else that he  
Whose friends are great in Court, by his late match,  
As he is in nature bound, provide for her.  Tho. 
And he shall do it brother, though we have waited at his lodging, longer than a tailors bill on a young Knight for an old reckoning, without speaking with him, Here we know he is, and we will call him to parley.  Io. 
Yet let us do't in mild and gentle terms,  
Fair words perhaps may sooner draw our own,  
Then rougher courses by which his mischief grown.  En. Draw Dr. 
Anon, anon, look down into the Dolphin there.  Tho. 
Here comes a drawer we will question him.  Tho. 
Do you hear my friend, is not master Scarborrow here?  Draw. 
Here sir, what a jest is that, where should he be else, I would have you well know my master hopes to grow rich before he leaves him.  Io. 
How long hath he continued here since he came hither.  Draw. 
Faith Sir not so long as Noah's flood, yet long enough to have drowned up the livings of three Knights, as Knights goes now adays, some month or thereabouts.  john. 
Time ill consumed to ruinate our house,  
But what are they that keep him company?  Draw. 
Pitch, Pitch, but I must not say so, but for your further satisfaction, did you ever see a young whelp and a Lion play together.  john. 
Yes.  Draw. 
Such is master Scarborrow's company  
Within Oliver.  Draw. 
Anon, anon, look down to the pomegranate there.  Tho. 
I prithee say here's them would speak with him.  Draw. 
I'll do your message: Anon, anon there.  Exit john 
This fool speaks wiser than he is aware,  
young heirs left in this town where sins so rank,  
And prodigals gape to grow fat by them,  
Are like young whelps thrown in the lions den,  
Who play with them awhile, at length devour them.  Enter Scarborrow. Scar. 
whose's there would speak with me?  john. 
Your Brothers, who are glad to see you well.  Scar, 
Well.  john. 
'tis not your riot, that we hear you use,  
(With such as waste their goods, as Time the world  
With a continual spending, nor that you keep  
The company of a most Leprous rout,  
Consumes your Body's wealth, infects your name  
With such Plague-sores, that had you reasons eye,  
'twould make you sick, to see you visit them)  
Hath drawn us, but our wants to crave the dew  
Our father gave, and yet remains with you.  Tho. 
Our Birthright good brother, this Town craves maintenance, silk stockings must be had, and we would be loath our heritage should be arraigned at the vintner's bar, and so condemned to the vintner's box, though while you did keep house, we had some Belly-timber at your Table, or so, yet we would have you think, we are your Brothers, yet no Esau's to sell our patrimony for Porridge.  Scar. 
So, so, what hath your coming else?  Io. 
With us our sister joins in our request,  
Whom we have brought along with us to London,  
To have her portion, wherewith to provide,  
An honoured service, or an honest bride.  Scar. 
So, than you two my Brothers, and she my sister, come not as in duty you are bound, to an elder brother, out of Yorkshire to see us, but like leeches to suck from us.  Io. 
We come compelled by want to crave our own.  Scar. 
Sir, for your own, than thus be satisfied,  
Both hers and yours were left in trust with me,  
And I will keep it for ye: Must you appoint us,  
Or what we please to like mixed with reproof,  
You have been too saucy both, and you shall know,  
I'll curb you for it, ask why; I'll have it so?  Io. 
We do but crave our own.  Scar. 
Your own sir: what's your own?  Tho. 
Our portions given us by our father's will,  Io. 
Which here you spend.  Tho. 
Consume?  Io. 
Ways worse than ill.  Scar. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Enter Ilford. Ilf. 
Nay, nay, nay, Will: prithee come away, we have a full gallon of Sack stays in the fire for thee, thou must pledge it to the health of a friend of thine.  Scar. 
What dost think these are Frank?  Ilf. 
They are Fiddlers I think, if they be, I prithee send them into the next room, and let them scrape there, and we'll send to them presently.  Scar. 
They are my brother's Frank, come out of Yorkshire, To the Tavern here, to ask their portions: they call my pleasures, riots, my company Leproes, & like a school boy, they would tutor me?  Ilf. 
O, thou shouldst have done well to have bound them prentices when they were young, they would have made a couple of saucy Tailors.  Tho. 
tailors?  Ilf. 
I bird-lime: Tailors: tailors are good men, and in the Term time they wear good Clothes. Come, you must learn more manners, stand at your Brother's back, as to shift a trencher neatly, and take a Cup of Sack, and a capon's leg contentedly.  Tho. 
You are a slave  
That feeds upon my brother like a fly,  
Poisoning where thou dost suck.  Scar. 
You lie.  Io. 
O, to my grief I speak it, you shall find,  
There's no more difference in a Tavern-haunter  
Then is between a Spittle and a Beggar.  Tho. 
Thou workest on him like Tempests on a ship.  Io. 
And he the worthy Traffic that doth sink.  Tho. 
Thou mak'st his name more loathsome than a grave.  Io. 
Livest like a Dog, by vomit,  Tho. 
Die a slave?  Here they draw. Wentlo, and Bartley come in, and the two vintner's boys, with Clubs. All set upon the two Brothers. Butler, Scarborrows man comes in, stands by, sees them fight takes part with neither. But. 
Do, fight: I love you all well, because you were my old master's sons, but I'll neither part you, nor be partaker with you. I come to bring my mast, news, he hath two sons borne at a birth in Yorkshire, and I find him together by the ears with his brothers in a Tavern in London. Brother and brother at odds, 'tis nought: sure, it was not thus in the days of charity. What's this world like to? Faith just like an Innkeepers Chamber-pot, receives all waters, good and bad, It had need of much scouring. My old mast kept a good house, and twenty or thirty tall sword and Buckler men about him, and i' his son differs not much, he will have mettle to, though he hath not store of cutler's blades, he will have plenty of vintner's pots. His father kept a good house for honest men, his Tenants, that brought him in part, and his son keeps a bad de house with Knaves that help to consume all. 'tis but the change of time: why should any man repine at it: Crekits, good living, and lucky worms, were wont to feed, sing, and rejoice in the father's chimney, and now Carrion Crows builds in the son's Kitchen, I could be sorry for it, but I am too old to weep. Well then, I will go tell him news of his offsprings.  Exit Enter the two brothers, Thomas and john Scarborrow hurt, and sister. Sist. 
Alas good Brothers, how came this mischance?  Tho. 
Our portions, our brother hath given us our portions sister, hath he not?  Sist. 
He would not be so monstrous I am sure.  Io. 
Excuse him not, he is more degenerate,  
Then greedy Vipers that devour their mother,  
They eat on her but to preserve themselves,  
And he consumes himself, and beggars us.  
A Tavern is his Inn, where amongst Slaves,  
He kills his substance, making pots the graves  
To bury that which our forefathers gave.  
I asked him for our portions, told him that you  
Were brought to London, and we were in want,  
Humbly we craved our own, when his Reply  
Was, he knew none we had, beg, starve, or die.  Sist. 
Alas what course is left for us to live by then?  Tho 
In troth sister, we two to beg in the fields,  
And you to betake yourself to the old trade,  
Filling of small Cans in the suburbs.  Sist 
Shall I be left then like a common road,  
That every beast that can but pay his toll  
May travel over, and like to camomile,  
Flourish the better being trodden on.  Enter Butler bleeding. But, 
Well I will not curse him: he seedes now upon Sack & anchovies with a pox to him: but if he be not fain before he dies to eat Acorns, let me live with nothing but pollarded, and my mouth be made a Cooking stool for every scold to set her tail on.  Tho. 
How now Butler, what's the meaning of this?  But. 
Your brother means to lame as many as he can, that is a beggar himself, many live with him in the Hospital. His wife sent me out of Yorkshire, to tell him, that God had blessed him with two sons, he bids a plague of them, a vengeance of her, crosses me o'er the pate, and sends me to the Surgeons to seek salve: I looked at least he should have given me a brace of Angels for my pains.  Tho. 
Thou hast not lost all thy longing, I am sure he hath given thee a cracked crown.  But. 
A plague on his fingers, I cannot tell, he is your Brother & my master, I would be loath to Prophesy of him, but whosoe'er doth curse his Children being Infants, ban his wife lying in childbed, and beats his man brings him news of it, they may be borne rich, but they shall live Slaves, be Knaves, and die Beggars.  Sist. 
Did he do so.  But. 
Guess you, he bid a plague of them, a vengeance on her, & sent me to the Surgeons.  Sist. 
Why then I see there is no hope of him. Some husbands are respectless of their wives,  
During the time that they are useless,  
But none with Infants blessed, can nourish hate,  
But love the mother for the children's sake.  Io. 
But he that is given over unto sin,  
Leprosed therewith without, and so within,  
O Butler, we were issue to one father?  But. 
And he was an honest Gentleman.  Io. 
Whose hopes were better than the sun he left,  
Should set so soon, unto his house's shame.  
He lives in Taverns, spending of his wealth,  
And here his Brothers and distressed Sister,  
Not having any means to help us with.  Tho. 
Not a Scots Baubee (by this hand) to bless us with.  Io. 
And not content to riot out his own,  
But he detains our portions: suffers us  
In this strange Air, open to every wrack,  
Whilst he in riot swims to be in lack.  But. 
The more's the pity.  Sist. 
I know not what course to take me to,  
Honesty fain would live: What shall I do?  But. 
Sooth I'll tell you, your brother hath hurt us,  
We three will hurt you, and then go all to a spital together.  Sist. 
Jest not at her, whose burden is too grievous,  
But rather lend a means how to relieve us.  But. 
Well I do pity you, and the rather because you sale, you would fain live honest and want means for it, for I can tell you 'tis as strange here to see a maid fair, poor, and honest, as to see a Collier with a clean face. Maids here do live (especially without maintenance)  
Like Mice going to a trap,  
They nibble long, at last they get a clap.  
Your father was my good Benefactor, and gave me a house whilst I live to put my head in: for I would be loath then to see his only daughter, for want of means, turn punk, I have a drift to keep you honest. Have you a care to keep yourself so, yet you shall not know of it, for women's tongues are like sieves, they will hold nothing, they have power to vent. You two will further me.  john. 
In any thing good honest Butler.  Tho. 
If't be to take a purse I'll be one.  But. 
Perhaps thou speakest righter than thou art aware of: well, as chance it, I have received my wages: there is forty shillings for you, I'll set you in a lodging, and till you hear from us, let that provide for you, we'll first to the surgeons,  
To keep you honest, and to keep you brave,  
For once an honest man, will turn a Knave.  Exeunt. Enter Scarborrow having a Boy carrying a Torch with him, Ilford Wentlo, and Barley. Scar. 
Boy, bear the Torch fair: Now am I armed to fight with a Windmill, and to take the wall of an Emperor: Much drink, no money: A heavy head, and a light pair of heels.  Went. 
O, stand man?  Scar. 
I wear an excellent creature to make a Punk of, I should down with the least touch of a knaves finger, thou hast made a good night of this: What hast won Frank?  Ilf. 
A matter of nothing, some hundred pounds.  Scar. 
This is the hell of all gamesters, I think when they are at play, the board eases up the money: For if there be five hundred pound lost, there's never but a hundred pounds won. Boy, take the wall of any man, and yet by light, such deeds of darkness may not be.  Put out the Torch. Went. 
What dost mean by that Will?  Scar. 
To save charge, and walk like a Fury with a firebrand in my hand, every one goes by the light, & we'll go by the smoke.  Enter Lord Faulconbridge. Scar. 
Boy, keep the Wall: I will not budge for any man, by these Thumbs, and the paring of the Nails shall stick in thy teeth not for a world.  Lord. 
whose's this, young Scarborrow?  Scar. 
The man that the Mare rid on.  Lord. 
Is this the reverence that you owe to me?  Scar. 
You should have brought me up better.  Lord. 
That vice should thus transform man to a beast.  Scar. 
Go to, your name's Lord, I'll talk with you when your out a debt and ha' better clothes.  Lord. 
I pity thee even with my very soul.  Scar. 
Pity i'th' thy throat, I can drink Muscadine and Eggs, and mulled sack, do you hear: you put a piece of turned stuff upon me, but I will-  Lord. 
What will you do Sir?  Scar. 
Piss in thy way, and that's no slander.  Lord. 
Your sober blood will teach you otherwise.  Enter Sir William Scarborrow. S. Will. 
My honoured Lord, you're happily well met,  Lord. 
Ill met to see your Nephew in this case,  
More like a brute Beast, than a Gentleman.  S. wil. 
Fi: Nephew, shame you not thus to transform yourself?  Scar. 
Can your nose smell a Torch.  Ilf. 
Be not so wild, it is thine Uncle Scarborrow.  Scar. 
Why then 'tis the more likely 'tis my Father's brother.  sir wil. 
Shame to our name, to make thyself a Beast,  
Thy body worthy borne, and thy youth's breast  
Tiled in due time for better discipline.  Lo. 
thyself new married to a Noble house,  
Rich in possessions, and Posterity,  
Which should call home thy unstaid affections.  S. will. 
Where thou mak'st havoc.  Lo. 
Riot, spoil, and waste,  Sir willi.. 
Of what thy father left.  Lor. 
And livest disgraced.  Scar. 
I'll send you shorter to heaven, than you came to the earth, do you Catechize? Do you Catechize?  He draws and strikes at them. Ilf. 
Hold, hold, do you draw upon your uncle?  Scar. 
Pox of that Lord,  
we'll meet at Mitre, where we'll sup down sorrow,  
We are drunk tonight, and so we'll be tomorrow.  Exeunt Lo. 
Why now I see: what I heard of, I believed not,  
Your kinsman lives.  S. wil. 
Like to a swine.  Lord 
A perfect Epithet he feeds on draff,  
And wallows in the mire, to make men laugh,  
I pity him.  Sir wil. 
No pities fit for him.  Lo. 
Yet we'll advise him.  Sir wil. 
He is my kinsman.  Lo. 
Being in the pit where many do fall in,  
We will both comfort him, and counsel him.  Exeunt Anoyse within, crying, Follow, follow, follow: Then enter Butler, Thomas and john Scarborrow with money bags. Tho. 
What shall we do now Butler?  But. 
A man had better line a good handsome pair of gallows before his time, then be born to do these sucklings good, their mother's milk not wrung out of their nose yet, they know no more how to behave themselves in this honest and needful calling of Purse-taking, than I do to piece stockings.  within. This way, This way, this way. Both. 
'sfoot what shall we do now?  But. 
See if they do not quake like a trembling. Asp-leaf, and look more miserable than one of the wicked Elders pictured in the painted cloth, should they but come to the credit to be arraigned for their valour, before a worshipful bench, their very looks would hang 'em, and they were indited but for stealing of Eggs.  within. Follow, follow, this way follow. Tho. 
Butler.  john. 
Honest Butler.  Butler. 
Squat heart squat, creep me into these Bushes, lie me as close to the ground as you would do to a wench.  Tho. 
How good Butler, show us how.  But. 
By the Moon patroness of all purse-takers, who would be troubled with such Changelings, squat heart squat.  Tho. 
Thus Butler.  But. 
I so suckling, so, stir not now, If the peering Rogues chance to go over you, yet stir not younger Brothers call you 'em and have no more forecast, I am ashamed of you, these are such whose fathers had need leave them money, even to make them ready withal, for by this hilts, they have not wit to button their sleeves without teaching, close, squat close. Now if the lot of hanging do fall to my share, so, than the Father's old man drops for his young masters. If it chance it chances and when it chances, heaven and the Sheriff send me a good rope, I would not go up the lather twice for any thing, in the mean time preventions, honest preventions do well, off with my skin, so you on the ground, and I to this tree to escape the Gallows.  With. Follow, follow, follow. But. 
Do follow, if I do not deceive you, I'll bid a pox of this wit, and hang with a good grace.  Enter Sir john Harcop with two or three other with him. Har. 
Up to this wood they took, search near my friends, I am this morn robbed of three hundred pound.  But. 
I am sorry there was not four to have made even money now by the devils horns, 'tis Sir john Harcop.  Har. 
Leave not a bush unbare, nor tree unsearched, as sure as I was robbed the thieves went this way.  But. 
Theirs Nobody I perceive but may lie at sometime for one of them climbed this ways.  
1. Stand, I hear a voice, and here's an Owl in an ivy bush.  Bat. 
You lie, 'tis an old Servingman in a Nut-tree.  
2 Sirrah, sir, what make you in that tree.  But. 
Gathering of Nuts, that such fools as you are may crack the shells, and I eat the kernels.  Har. 
What fellows that?  But. 
Sir john Harcop, my Noble Knight, I am glad of your good health, you hear your Age fair, you keep a good house, I ha' fed at your board, and been drunk in your buttery.  Har. 
But sirrah: what made you in that tree?  
My man and I at foot of yonder hill  
Were by three knaves robbed of three hundred pound.  But. 
A shrewd loss by’r lady sir, but your good worship may now see the fruit of being miserable: You will ride but with one man to save horse-meat and man's meat at your Inn at night, & lose three hundred pound in a morning.  Har. 
Sirrah, I say I ha' lost three hundred pound.  But. 
And I say sir, I wish all miserable knights might be served so: For had you kept half a dozen tall fellows, as a man of your coat should do, they would have helped now to keep your money.  Har. 
But tell me sir, why lurked you in that tree?  But. 
Mary, I will tell you sir, Coming to the top of the hill where you (Right worshipful) were robbed at the bottom, & seeing some a scuffling together, my mind straight gave me there were knaves abroad. Now sir, I knowing myself to be old, tough, and unwieldy, not being able to do as I would, as much as to say; Rescue you (right Worshipful,) I like an honest man, one of the king's liege people, and a good subject  Ser. 
'a says well Sir.  
Got me up to the top of that tree: The tree (if it could speak) would bear me witness, that there I might see which way the knaves took, then to tell you of it, and you right worshipfully to send hue to cry after 'em.  Har. 
Was it so.  But. 
Nay 'twas so sir.  Har. 
Nay then I tell thee they took into this wood.  But. 
And I tell thee (setting thy worsh. knighthood aside) he lies in his throat that says so: Had not one of them a white Frock? Did they not bind your worship's knighthood by the thumbs? then faggoted you and the fool your man, back to back.  Man. 
He says true.  But. 
Why then so truly, came not they into this wood, but took over the Lawns, & left Winno steeple on the left hand.  Har. 
It may be so, by this they are out of reach, Well, farewell it.  But, 
Ride with more men, good knight.  Har. 
It shall teach me wit.  Exit Har. with followers. But. 
So, If this be not played a weapon beyond a scholars Prize, let me be hissed at. Now to the next. Come out you Hedgehogs?  Tho. 
O Butler, thou deservest to be chronicled for this.  But. 
Do not belie me, If I had my right I deserve to be hanged for't. But come, down with your dust, our morning's purchase.  Tho. 
here 'tis, Thou hast played well, Thou deservest two shares in it.  But. 
Three hundred pound: A pretty breakfast: Many a man works hard all his days and never sees half the money. But come, Though it be badly got, it shallbe better bestowed. But do ye hear gallants, I ha' not taught you this trade to get your livings by. Use it not, for if you do, though I scaped by the Nut tree, be sure you'll speed by the Rope: But for your pains at this time, There's a hundred pounds for you, how you shall bestow it, I'll give you instructions. But do you hear, Look you go not to your gills, your Punks, and your Cock-tricks with it, If I hear you do: as I am an honest thief, though I helped you now out of the briars, I'll be a means yet to help you to the Gallows. How the rest shall be employed I have determined, and by the way I'll make you acquainted with it.  
To steal is bad, but taken where is store,  
The faults the less, being done to help the poor  Exeunt. Enter Ilford, wentloe, Bartley. Ilford having a letter in his hand. Ilf. 
Sure I ha' said my prayers, and lived virtuously a late, that this good fortunes befallen me. Look Gallants: I am sent for to come down to my Father's burial.  went. 
But dust mean to go?  Ilf. 
Troth no, I'll go down to take possession of his land, let the country bury him & the will: I'll stay here a while, to save charge at his funeral.  Bart. 
And how dost feel thyself Frank, now thy father is dead?  Ilf. 
As I did before, with my hands, how should I feel myself else? But I'll tell you news Gallants.  went. 
What's that? Dost mean now to serve God?  Ilf. 
Faith partly, for I intend shortly to go to Church, and from thence do faithful service to one woman.  Enter Butler. But. 
Good, I ha' met my flesh-hooks together.  Bart. 
What, Dost mean to be married?  Ilf. 
I apparel, Married.  But. 
That's a bait for me.  Ilf. 
I will now be honestly married.  went. 
Its impossible, for thou hast been a whoremaster this seven year.  Ilf. 
'tis no matter, I will now marry, And to some honest woman to, and so from hence her virtues shall be a countenance to my vices.  Bart. 
What shall she be, prithee?  Ilf. 
No Lady, no widow, nor no waiting gentlewoman, for under protection  
Ladies may lard their husband's heads, Widows will Woodcocks make, & chambermaids of servingmen learn that, they'll ner forsake.  Went. 
Who wilt thou wed then, prithee?  Ilf. 
To any maid, so she be fair: To any maid, so she be rich To any maid so she be young: and to any maid  Bart. 
So she be honest.  Ilf. 
Faith, it's no great matter for her honesty, for in these days, that's a Dowry out of request.  But. 
From these Crabs will I gather sweetness: wherein I'll imitate the Bee, that sucks her honey, not from the sweetest flowers, but Timb the bitterest: So these having been the means to beggar my master, shallbe the helps to relieve his brothers and sister.  Ilf. 
To whom shall I now be a suitor?  But. 
Fair fall ye Gallants.  Ilf. 
Nay, and she be fair she shall fall sure enough. Butler, how be't good Butler.  But. 
will you be made gallants?  went. 
ay, but not willingly Cuckolds, though we are now talking about wives.  But. 
Let your wives agree of that after, will you first be richly married?  All. 
How Butler: richly married?  But. 
Rich in beauty, rich in purse, rich in virtue, rich in all things. But Mum, I'll say nothing, I know of two or three rich heirs. But Cargo, my fiddlestick cannot play without resin: avant.  went. 
Butler.  Ilf. 
Dost not know me Butler?  But. 
For Kex, dried Kex, that in summer ha' been so liberal to fodder other men's cattle, and scarce have enough to keep your own in Winter. Mine are precious Cabinets, and must have precious jewels put into them, and I know you to he merchants of Stockfish, and not men for my market: Then vanish.  Ilf. 
Come, ye old madcap you, what need all this? Cannot a man ha' been a little whore-master in his youth, but you must upbraid him with it, and tell him of his defects, which when he is married, his wife shall find in him? Why my father's dead man now, who by his death has left me the better part of a thousand a year.  But. 
Tut, she of Lancashire has fifteen hundred.  Ilf. 
Let me have her then, good Butler.  But. 
And then she the bright beauty of Leicestershipre, has a thousand, nay thirteen hundred a year, at least.  Ilf. 
Or let me have her, honest Butler.  But. 
Besides, she the most delicate, sweet countenanced, black browed gentlewoman in Northamptonshire, in substance equals the best of 'em.  Ilf. 
Let me have her then.  Bart. 
Or I.  Went. 
Or I, good Butler.  But. 
You were best play the parts of right fools, and most desperate whoremasters, and go together by the ears for them ere ye see them. But they are the most rare featured, well faced, excellent spoke, rare qualitied, virtuous, and worthy to be admired gentlewoman,  All. 
And rich Butler?  But. 
(I that must be one, though they want all the rest) And rich Gallants, as are from the utmost parts of Asya, to these present confines of Europe.  All 
And wilt thou help us to them Butler?  But. 
Faith, 'tis to be doubted, for precious pearl will hardly be bought without precious stones, and I think there's scarce one indifferent one to be found, betwixt you three: yet since there is some hope ye may prove honest, as by the death of your fathers. Fathers you are proved rich, walk severally, for I knowing you all three to be covetous Tug-muttons will not trust you with the sight of each other's beauty but will severally, talk with you, and since you have deigned in this needful portion of wedlock to be ruled by me Butler, will most bountifully provide wives for you generally.  All. 
Why that honestly said.  But. 
Why so, and now first to your Sir Knight  Ilf. 
Godamercy.  But. 
You see this couple of abominable Woodcocks hear.  Ilf. 
A pox on them, absolute coxcombs.  But. 
You heard me tell them, I had Intelligence to give of three Gentlewomen.  Ilf. 
True.  But. 
Now indeed Sit I ha' but the performance of one.  Ilf. 
Good.  But. 
And her I do intend for you, only for you.  Ilf. 
Honest Butler.  But. 
Now sir, she being but lately come to this town, and so nearly watched by the jealous eyes of her friends, she being a Rich heir, lest she should be stolen away by some dissolute Prodigal, or desperate estated spend thrift, as you ha' been Sir.  Ilf. 
O but that's past Butler.  But. 
True I know't, & intend now but to make use of them, flatter with them with hopeful promises, and make them needful instruments.  Ilf. 
To help me to the wench,  But. 
You ha' hit it which thus must be effected, first by keeping close your purpose.  Ilf. 
Good.  Ba. 
Also concealing from them, the lodging beauty and riches of your new, but admirable Mistress.  Ilf. 
Excellent.  But. 
Of which your following happiness, if they should know either in envy of your good, or hope of their own advancement they'll make our labours known to the gentlewoman's uncles, and so our benefit be frustrate.  Ilf. 
Admirable Butler.  But. 
Which done, als but this, being as you shall be brought into her company, and by my praising your virtues you get possession of her Love, one morning step to the tower, or to make all sure, hire some stipendiary priest for money: for Money in these days, what will not be done, and what will not a man do for a rich wife, and with him make no more ado but marry hit in her lodging and being married, he with her and spare not.  Ilf. 
Do they not see us, do they not see us, let me kiss thee, let me kiss thee Butler, let but this be done, and all the benefit requital and happiness. I can promise thee for't, shall be this, I'll be thy rich master, and thou shalt carry my purse.  But. 
Enough, meet me at her lodging some half an hour hence: hark she lies.  Ilf. 
I hate.  But. 
Fail not.  Ilf. 
Will I live.  But. 
I will but shift of these two Rhinoceros,  Ilf. 
Wigens, wingens, a couple of gulls.  But. 
With some discourse of hope to wive them two, and be with you straight.  Ilf. 
Blessed day, my love shall be thy cushion honest Butler.  But. 
So now to my other Gallants.  Went. 
O Butler, we ha' been in passion at thy tediousness,  But. 
Why look you. I had all this talk for your good.  Bar. 
Hadst.  But. 
For you know the knight is but a scurvy-proud-prating-Prodigal, licentious unnecessary.  Went. 
An Ass, an Ass, an Ass.  But. 
Now you heard me tell him I had three Wenches in store,  Bar. 
And he would ha' had them all would he.  But. 
Hear me, though he may live to be an Ox, he had not now so much of the Goat in him, but only hopes for one of the three when indeed I ha' but two, and knowing you to be men of more virtue, and dearer in my respect intend them to be yours.  Went. 
We shall honour thee.  Bar. 
But how Butler.  Bu. 
I am now going to their place of residence, situate in the choicest place in the City, and at the sign of the Wolf just against Gold-smiths-row where you shall meet me, but ask not for me, only walk to and fro and to avoid suspicion you may spend some conference with the Shopkeepers wives, they have seats built a purpose for such familiar entertainment, where from a bay window which is opposite, I will make you known to your desired beauties, commend the good parts you have.  Went 
byth' mass mine are very few.  But. 
And win a kind of desire, as women are soon won to make you be beloved where you shall first kiss, than Woe, at length Wed, and at last bed my Noble hearts.  Both. 
O Butler.  But. 
Wenches bona robes, blessed beauties, without colour or counterfeit: Away, put on you best Clothes, get you to the Barbers, Curl up your hair, walk with the best struts you can, you shall see more at the Window, and I ha' vowed to make you.  Bart. 
Wilt thou.  But. 
Both Fools, and I'll want of my wit but I'll do't.  Bar. 
We will live together as fellows.  Went. 
As Brothers.  But. 
As arrant knaves if I keep you company,  
O, the most wretched season of this time,  
These men like Fish, do swim within one stream,  
Yet they'll eat one another, making no Conscience  
To drink with them they'll poison, no offence,  
Betwixt their thoughts and actions have control,  
But headlong run, like an unbiased Bowl,  
Yet I will throw them on, but like to him,  
At play knows how to lose, and when to win.  Enter Thomas and john Scarborrow. Tho. 
Butler.  But. 
O, are you come. And fit as I appointed: so, 'tis well, you know you cues, and have instructions how to bear yourselves: All, all is fit, play but your part, your states from hence are firm.  Exit. john. 
What shall I term this creature not a man.  Betwixt this Butler leads Ilford in. 
he's not of mortals' temper but he's one,  
Made all of goodness, though of flesh and bone,  
O Brother, brother, but for that honest man,  
As near to misery had been our breath,  
As where the thundering pellet strikes is death.  Tho. 
ay, my shift of shirts and change of clothes know't.  john. 
Well tell of him, like bells whose music rings  
One Coronation day for joy of Kings,  
That hath preserved their steeples not like tolls,  
That summons living tears for the dead souls,  Enter Butler and Ilford above. But. 
God's precious Sir, the hell Sir, even as you had new kissed, and were about to court her, if her uncles be not come.  Ilf. 
A plague on thee, spit out.  But. 
But 'tis no matter Sir, stay you here in this upper chamber, & I'll stay beneath with her, 'tis ten to one you shall hear them talk now, of the greatness of her possessions, the care they have to see her well bestowed, the admirableness of her virtues, all which for all their coming, shall be but happiness ordained for you, & by my means be your inheritance.  Ilf. 
Then thou'lt shift them away, and keep from the sight of them.  But. 
Have I not promised to make you.  Ilf. 
Thou hast.  But. 
Go to then, rest here with patience, and be confident in my trust, only in my absence, you may praise God for the blessedness you have to come, and say your prayers if you will, I'll but prepare her heart for entertainment of your love, dismiss them, for your free access, and return straight.  Ilf. 
Honest-blest-natural-friend, thou dealest with me like a Brother: Butler, Exit .Sure heaven hath reserved this man to wear Grey-hairs to do me good, now will I listen, listen close, and suck in her uncles words with a rejoicing ear,  Tho. 
As we were saying Brother,  
Where shall we find a husband for my Niece.  Ilf. 
Marry she shall find one here tho you little know't, thanks,  
Thanks honest Butler.  Io. 
She is left rich in Money, Plate, and jewels.  Ilf. 
Comfort, comfort to my soul.  Tho. 
Hath all her manner houses richly furnished.  Ilf. 
Good, good, I'll find employment for them.  With. But. 
Speak loud enough that he may hear you.  Io. 
I take her state to be about a thousand pound a year,  Ilf. 
And that which my father, hath left me, will make it about fifteen, hundred admirable.  Ioh. 
Indebt to no man, then must our natural care be,  
As she is wealthy to see her married well.  Ilf. 
And that she shall be as well as the priest can, he shall not,  
Leave out a word on't.  Tho. 
I think she has.  Ilf. 
What a God's name.  Tho. 
About four thousand pound in her great chest.  Ilf. 
And I'll find a vent for't I hope.  Io. 
she is virtuous, and she is fair.  Ilf, 
And she were foul, being rich, I would be glad of her.  But 
Pisht, pisht.  Io. 
Come, we'll go visit her, but with this care,  
That to no spendthrift we do marry her.  Exeunt Ilf. 
You may chance be deceived old graybeards, hears he will spend some of it, thanks, thanks, honest Butler, now do I see the happiness of my future estate, I walk me as tomorrow, being the day after my marriage, with my fourteen men in Livery cloaks after me, and step to the wall in some chief street of the City, though I ha' no occasion to use it, that the Shopkeepers may take notice how many followers stand bare to me, and yet in this latter age, the keeping of men being not in request, I will turn my aforesaid fourteen into two Pages and two Coaches, I will get myself into grace at Court, run headlong into debt, and then look scurvily upon the City, I will walk you into the presence in the afternoon having put on a richer suit, than I wore in the morning, and call boy or sirrah, I will ha' the grace of some great Lady though I pay for't, and at the next Triumphs run a Tilt, that when I run my course, though I break not my lance: she may whisper to herself, looking upon my smell, well run my knight I will now keep great horses, scorning to have a Quean to keep me, indeed I will practise all the Gallantry in use, for by a Wife comes all my happiness.  Enter Butler. But. 
Now sir, you ha' heard her Uncles, and how do you like them.  Il. 
O But. they ha' made good thy words, & I am ravished with them.  Bu. 
And having seen & kissed the gentlewoman. how do you like her?  Ilf. 
O Butler beyond discourse, she's Paragon for a Prince, than a fit Implement for a Gentleman, beyond my Element.  But. 
Well then, since you like her, and by my means, she shall like you, nothing rests now but to have you married.  Ilf. 
True Butler, but withal to have her portion.  But. 
Tut, that's sure yours when you are married once, for 'tis hers by Inheritance, but do you love her?  Ilf. 
O, with my soul.  But. 
ha' you sworn as much.  Ilf. 
To thee, to her, and ha' called heaven to witness.  But. 
How shall I know that.  Ilf. 
Butler, here I protest, make vows Irrevocable.  But. 
Upon your knees.  Ilf. 
Upon my knees, with my heart, and soul I love her.  But. 
Will live with her.  Ilf. 
Will live with her.  But. 
Marry her and maintain her.  Ilf. 
Marry her and maintain her.  But. 
For her forsake all other women.  Ilf. 
Nay for her forswear all other women.  Ilf. 
In all degrees of Love.  But. 
In all degrees of Love, either to Court, kiss, give private favours, or use private means, I'll do nothing that married men being close whoremasters do, so I may have her.  But. 
And yet you having been an open whoremaster, I will not believe you till I hear you swear as much in the way of contract to herself, and call me to be a witness.  Ilf. 
By heaven, by earth, by Hell, by all that man can swear, I will so I may have her.  But. 
Enough.  
Thus at first sight, rash men to women swear,  
When such oaths broke, heaven grieves and sheds a tear:  
But she's come, ply her, ply her.  Enter Scarborrowes Sister. Ilf. 
Kind Mistress, as I protested, so again I vow, i'faith I love you.  Sist. 
And I am not Sir so uncharitable,  
To hate the man that loves me.  Ilf. 
Love me then,  
The which loves you as Angels loves good men,  
Who wish them to live with them ever,  
In that high bliss whom hell cannot dissever.  But. 
I'll steal away and leave them, so wise men do,  
Whom they would match, let them ha' leave to woe.  Exit Butler Ilf. 
Mistress I know your worth is beyond my desert, yet by my praising of your virtues, I would not have you as women use to do, become proud.  Si. 
None of my affections are pride's children, nor a kin to them  Ilf. 
Can you love me them?  Sist. 
I can, for I love all the world, but am in love with none.  Ilf. 
Yet be in love with me, let your affections  
Combine with mine, and let our souls  
Like Turtles have a mutual Sympathy,  
Who love so well, that they together die,  
Such is my life, who covets to expire,  
If it should lose your love.  Sist. 
May I believe you?  Ilf. 
Introth you may,  
Your life's my life, your death my dying day.  Sist. 
Sir the commendations I have received from Butler of your birth and worth, together with the judgement of mine own eye, bids me believe and love you.  Ilf. 
O seal it with a kiss,  
Blessed hour my life had never joy till this.  Enter Wentloe, and Bartley beneath. Bart. 
Here about is the house sure.  Wentlo. 
We cannot mistake it, for here's the sign of the Wolf and the Bay-window.  Enter Butler above. But. 
What so close? 'tis well, I ha' shifted away your uncles Mistress, but see the spite Sir Francis, if you same couple of Smell-smocks, Wentloe and Bartley, ha' not scented after us.  Ilf. 
A pox on 'em, what shall we do then Butler?  But. 
What but be married straight man.  Ilf. 
ay but how Butler.  But. 
Tut, I never fail at a dead lift, for to perfect your bliss, I have provided you a Priest.  Ilf. 
Where, prithee Butler where?  but. 
Where? But beneath in her Chamber. I ha' filled his hands with Coin, and he shall tie you fast with words, he shall close your hands in one, and then do clap yourself into her sheets and spare not.  Ilf. 
O sweet.  (Exit Ilford with his Sister. but. 
down, down, 'tis the only way for you to get up.  
Thus in this task, for others good I toil,  
And she kind Gentlewoman weds herself,  
Having been scarcely wooed, and ere her thoughts,  
Have learned to love him, that being her husband,  
She may relieve her, brothers in their wants,  
She marries him to help her nearest kin,  
I make the match, and hope it is no sin.  Went. 
'sfoot it is scurvy Walking, for us so near the two Counters, would he would come once?  Bar. 
Mass he's yonder: Now Butler.  But. 
O Gallants are you here, I ha' done wonders for you commended you to the Gentlewomen, who having taken note of your good legs, and good faces, have a liking to you, meet me beneath.  both 
Happy Butler.  but. 
They are yours, and you are theirs, meet me beneath I say.  
By this they are wed, I and perhaps have bedded,  Ex. wen. & bax 
Now follows whether knowing she is poor,  
he'll swear he loved her as he swore before.  Exit butler Enter Ilford with Scarborrowes sister. Ilf. 
Ho Sirrah, who would ha' thought it, I perceive now a woman may be a maid, be married, and lose her maidenhead, and all in half and an hour, and how dost like me now wench.  Sist. 
As doth befit your servant and your wife,  
That owe you love and duty all my life.  Ilf. 
And there shall be no Love lost, nor service neither, I'll do thee service at board, and thou shalt do me service a-bed: Now must I as young married men use to do, kiss my portion out of my young wife. Thou art my sweet Rogue, my Lamb, my Pigsny, my playfellow, my pretty pretty any thing, come a buss prithee, so 'tis my kind heart, and what's thou what now?  Sist. 
Not till you tell me Sir,  Ilf. 
I ha' got thee with Child in my Conscience, and like a kind Husband, methinks I breed it for thee. For I am already sick at my stomach and long extremely. Now must thou be my helpful Physician, and provide for me.  Sist. 
even to my blood,  
What's mine is yours, to gain your peace or good.  Ilf. 
What a kind soul is this, could a man have found a greater content in a wife, if he should ha' sought through the world for her: Prithee heart as I said, I long, and in good troth I do, and methinks thy first child will be borne without a nose, if I lose my longing, 'tis but for a trifle too, yet methinks it will do me no good unless thou effect it for me. I could take thy keys myself, go into thy Closet, and read over the deeds and evidences of thy Land, & in reading over them, rejoice I had such blessed fortune to have so fair a wife with so much endowment, and then open thy Chests, and survey thy Plate, jewels, Treasure. But a pox on't, all will do me no good, unless thou effect it for me.  Sist. 
Sir I will show you all the wealth I have,  
Of Coin, of jewels, or Possessions,  Ilf. 
Good gentle heart, I'll give thee another buss for that, for that give thee a new gown tomorrow morning, by this hand do thou but dream what stuff and what Fashion thou wilt have it on tonight.  Sist. 
The land I can endow you with, is my Love,  
The riches I possess for you is love,  
A Treasure greater than is Land or Gold,  
It cannot be forfeited, and it shall near be sold.  Ilf. 
Love I know that, and I'll answer thee love for. Love in abundance: but come prithee come, let's see these deeds and evidences, this Money, Plate, and jewels, with ha' thy Child borne without a nose, if thou be'st so careless, spare not, why my little frappet you, I heard thy uncles talk of thy riches, that thou hadst hundreds a year, several Lordships, manours Houles, Thousands of pounds in your great Chests, jewels, Plate, and Rings in your little Box.  Sist. 
And for that riches you did marry me.  Ilf 
Troth I did, as now adays Bachelors do swore I loved thee but indeed married thee for thy wealth.  sist. 
Sir I beseech you say not your oaths were such,  
So like false coin, being put unto the touch,  
Who bear a flourish in the outward show,  
Of a true stamp, but truly are not so,  
You swore me love, I gave the like to you,  
Then as a ship being wedded to the sea,  
does either sail or sink even so must I,  
You being the haven to which my hopes must she.  Ilf. 
True Chuck I am thy haven, and harbour too,  
And like a ship I took thee, who brings home Treasure  
As thou to me, the Merchant-venturer.  Sist. 
What riches I am ballast with are yours.  Ilf. 
That's kindly said now,  Sist. 
If but with sand, as I am but with earth,  
Being your right of right, you must receive me,  
I ha' no other lading but my Love.  
Which in abundance I will render you,  
If other fraught you do expect my store,  
I'll pay you tears, my riches, are no more.  Ilf. 
how's this? how's this? I hope you do but jest,  Sist. 
I am Sister to decayed Scarborrow.  Ilf. 
Ha.  Sist. 
Whose substance your Enticements did consume.  Ilf. 
Worse than an Ague.  Sist. 
Which as you did believe so they supposed,  
'twas fitter for yourself then for another,  
To keep the sister, had undone the brother.  Ilf. 
I am gulled by this hand. An old conycatcher, and beguiled; where the pox now are my two Coaches, choice of houses, several suits, a plague on them, and I know not what: Do you hear Puppet, do you think you shall not be damned for this, to Cozen a Gentleman of his hopes, and compel yourself into Matrimony with a man, whether he will or no with you, I ha' made a fair match i'faith, will any man buy my commodity out of my hand, as God save me he shall have her for half the money she cost me.  Enter Wentlo, and Bartley. went. 
O, ha' we met you Sir.  Bart. 
What, turned mitcher, steal a wife, and not make your old friends acquainted with it.  Ilf. 
A pox on her, I would you had her.  went. 
Well, God give you joy, we can hear of your good fortune, now 'tis done, though we could not be acquainted with it aforehand.  Bart. 
As that you have two thousand pound a year.  Went. 
Two or three manor houses.  Bart. 
A wife, fair, rich, and virtuous.  Ilf. 
Pretty in faith, very pretty.  went. 
Store of Gold.  Bart. 
Plate in abundance.  Ilf. 
Better, better, better.  went. 
And so many Oxen, that their horns are able to store all the Cuckolds in your Country.  Ilf. 
Do not make me mad good Gentlemen, do not make me mad, I could be made a Cuckold with more patience, then endure this.  We. 
For we shall have you turn proud now, grow respectless of your Ancient acquaintance, why Butler told us of it: Who was the maker of the match for you?  Ilf. 
A pox of his furtherance, Gentlemen as you are Christians, vex me no more, that I am married I confess, a plague of the Fates, that wedding and hanging comes by destiny, but for the riches she has brought, bear witness how I'll reward her.  Sist. 
Sir.  Ilf. 
Whore, I and jade, Witch, Ill-faced, stinking-breath, crooked-nose, worse than the Devil, and a plague on thee that ever I saw thee.  Bart. 
A Comedy, a Comedy.  Went. 
What's the meaning of all this, is this the mask after thy marriage.  Ilf. 
O Gentlemen, I am undone, I am undone, for I am married, I that could not abide a Woman, but to make her a whore, hated all She-creatures, fair and poor, swore I would never marry but to one that was rich, and to be thus coney-catched. Who do you think this is Gentlemen?  went. 
Why your wife, Who should it be else?  Ilf. 
That's my misfortune, that marrying her in hope she was rich, she proves to be the beggarly Sister to the more beggarly Scarborrow.  Bart. 
How?  Went. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Ilf. 
ay, you may laugh, but she shall cry as well as I for't,  Bart. 
Nay, do not weep.  went. 
He does but counterfeit now to delude us, he has all her portion of Land, Coin, Plate, jewels: and now dissembles thus lest we should borrow some Money of him.  Ilf. 
And you be kind Gentlemen lend me some, for having paid the Priest, I ha' not so much left in the world, as will higher me a horse to carry me away from her.  Bart. 
But art thou thus gulled in faith.  Ilf. 
Are you sure you ha' eyes in your head.  went. 
Why then, By her brother's setting one in my conscience, who knowing thee now to ha' somewhat to take to, by the death of thy father, and that he hath spent her portion, and his own possessions, hath laid this plot, for thee to marry her, and so he to be rid of her himself.  Ilf. 
Nay, that's without question, but I'll be revenged of 'em both, for you Minx. Nay 'sfoot, give 'em me, or I'll kick else.  Sist. 
Good, sweet.  Ilf. 
Sweet with a pox, you stink in my nose, give me your jewels? Nay Bracelets too.  Sist. 
O me, most miserable.  Ilf. 
Out of my sight, I and out of my doors, for now, what's within this house is mine, and for your brother  
He made this match, in hope to do you good,  
And I wear this for which, shall draw his blood.  Exit with went. and Barley. went. 
A brave resolution.  Bart. 
In which we'll second thee.  Ilf. 
Away, whore, Out of my doors whore.  Sist. 
O grief, that poverty should ha' that power to tear:  
Men from themselves, though they wed, bed, and swear.  Enter Thomas and john Scarborrow, with Butler. Tho. 
How now sister.  sist. 
Undone, undone.  But. 
Why Mistress, how be't? how be't?  sist. 
My husband has forsook me.  But. 
O perjury.  sist. 
Has ta'en my jewels, and my Bracelets from me.  Tho. 
Vengeance, I played the thief for the money that bought 'em.  sist. 
Left me distressed, and thirst me forth a doors.  Tho. 
Damnation on him, I will here no more,  
But for his wrong revenge me on my brother,  
Degenerate, and was the cause of all,  
He spent our portion, and I'll see his fall.  Ioh. 
O but Brother.  Tho. 
Persuade me not.  
All hopes are shipwreck, misery comes on,  
The comfort we did look from him is frustrate,  
All means, all maintenance, but grief is gone.  
And all shall end by his destruction.  Exit. Ioh. 
I'll follow and prevent, what in this heat may happen,  
His want makes sharp his sword, to great the ill,  
If that one brother should another kill.  Exit. But, 
And what will you do Mistress?  sist. 
I'll sit me down, sigh loud in stead of words,  
And wound myself with grief as they with swords.  
And for the sustenance that I should eat,  
I'll feed on grief, 'tis woes best relished meat.  But. 
Good heart I pity you,  
You shall not be so cruel to yourself,  
I have the poor servingman's allowance,  
twelve pence a day to buy me sustenance,  
One meal aday I'll eat, the tother fast,  
To give your wants relief. And Mistress  
Be this some comfort to your miseries,  
I'll ha' thin cheeks, ere you shall ha' wet eyes.  Exeunt. Enter Scarrborrow. 
What is prodigality? Faith like a Brush  
That wears himself to flourish others clothes,  
And having worn his heart even to the stump,  
he's thrown away like a deformed lump.  
Oh such am I, I ha' spent all the wealth  
My ancestors did purchase, made others brave  
In shape and riches, and myself a knave.  
For though my wealth raised some to paint their door,  
'tis shut against me, saying I am but poor:  
Nay, even the greatest arm, whose hand hath graced,  
My presence to the eye of Majesty, shrinks back,  
His fingers clutch, and like to lead,  
They are heavy to raise up my state, being dead.  
By which I find, spendthrifts, and such am I,  
Like strumpets flourish, but are foul within,  
And they like Snakes, know when to cast their skin.  Enter Tho. Tho. 
Turn, draw, and die, I come to kill thee.  Scar. 
What's he that speaks? Like sickness: Oh be't you,  
Sleep still, you cannot move me, fare you well.  Tho. 
Think not my fury slakes so, or my blood  
Can cool itself to temper by refusal,  
Turn or thou diest.  Scar. 
Away.  Tho. 
I do not wish to kill thee like a slave,  
That taps men in their cups, and broach their hearts,  
Ear with a warning piece they have waked their ears,  
I would not like to powder shoot thee down,  
To a flat grave, ere thou hast thought to frown:  
I am no Coward, but in manly terms,  
And fairest oppositions vow to kill thee.  Scar. 
From whence proceeds this heat.  Tho. 
From sparkles bred by thee, that like a villain.  Sca. 
Ha.  Tho. 
I'll hallow it in thine ears till thy soul quake to hear it,  
That like a villain hast undone thy brothers.  Sca. 
Would thou wert not so near me: yet farewell.  Tho. 
By nature, and her laws make us a kin,  
As near as are these hands, or sin to sin.  
Draw and defend thyself, or I'll forget  
Thou art a man.  Scar. 
Would thou were not my Brother?  Tho. 
I disclaim them.  Scar. 
Are we not offspring of one parent wretch.  Tho. 
I do forget it, pardon me the dead,  
I should deny the pains you bid for me.  
My blood grows hot for vengeance, thou hast spent  
My lives revenues that our parents purchased.  Scar. 
O do not wrack me with remembrance on't.  Tho. 
Thou hast made my life a Beggar in this world,  
And I will make thee bankrupt of thy breath:  
Thou hast been so bad, the best I can give,  
Thou art a Devil, not with men to live.  Scar. 
Then take a devils payment.  Here they make a pass one upon another, when at Scarborrowes back. comes in Ilford, Wentloe, and Bartley. Ilf. 
he's here, draw Gentlemen.  Went. Bart. 
Die Scarborrow.  Scar. 
Girt round with death.  Tho. 
How set upon by three, 'sfoot fear not Brother, yond Cowards, three to one, slaves, worse than Fencers that wear long weapons. You shall be fought withal, you shall be fought withal.  Here the Brothers join, drive the rest out, and return. Scar. 
Brother I thank you, for you now have been  
A patron of my life, forget the sin  
I pray you, with my loose and wasteful hours,  
Hath made against your Fortunes, I repent 'em,  
And wish I could new joint and strength your hopes,  
Though with indifferent ruin of mine own.  
I have a many sins, the thought of which  
Like finished Needles prick me to the soul,  
But find your wrongs, to have the sharpest point.  
If penitence your losses might repair,  
You should be rich in wealth, and I in care.  Tho. 
I do believe you Sir, but I must tell you,  
Evils the which are 'gainst another done,  
Repentance makes no satisfaction  
To him that feels the smart. Our father sir,  
Left in your trust my portion: you ha' spent it,  
And suffered me (whilst you in riots house,  
A drunken Tavern, spilled my maintenance  
Perhaps upon the ground with overflown cups,  
Like birds in hardest winter half starved, to fly)  
And pick up any food, lest I should die.  scar. 
I prithee let us be at peace together.  Tho. 
At peace for what? For spending my inheritance,  
By yonder son that every soul has life by,  
As sure as thou hast life I'll fight with thee.  Scar. 
I'd not be moved unto'ot.  Tho. 
I'll kill thee then, wert thou now clasped  
Within thy mother, wife, or children's arms.  scar. 
Wouldst homicide? art so degenerate?  
Then let my blood grow hot.  Tho. 
For it shall cool.  scar. 
To kill rather than be killed is manhoods rule.  Enter john Scarborrow. Io. 
Stay let not your wraths meet.  Tho. 
Heart, what mak'st thou here?  Io. 
Say who are you, or you, are you not one,  
That scarce can make a fit distinction  
Betwixt each other. Are you not Brothers?  Tho. 
I renounce him.  scar. 
Shalt not need.  Tho. 
Give way.  scar. 
Have at thee,  Io. 
Who stirs, which of you both hath strength within his arm  
To wound his own breast, whose so desperate,  
To damn himself by killing of himself,  
Are you not both one flesh?  Tho. 
Heart, give me way.  sca. 
Be not a bar betwixt us, or by my sword  
I'll mete thy grave out.  Ioh. 
O do, for God's sake do?  
'tis happy death, if I may die and you  
Not murder one another. O do but hearken,  
When dus the Sun and Moon borne in one frame  
Contend, but they breed Earthquakes in men's hearts:  
When any star prodigiously appears,  
Tells it not fall of kings or fatal years.  
And then if Brother's fight, what may men think,  
Sin grows so high, 'tis time the world should sink.  scar. 
My heart grows cool again, I wish it not.  Tho. 
Stop not my fury, or by my life I swear,  
I will reveal the robbery we ha' done,  
And take revenge on thee,  
That hinders me to take revenge on him.  Io. 
I yield to that, but near consent to this,  
I shall then die as mine own, sin affords,  
Fall by the law, not by my Brother's swords.  Tho. 
Then by that light that guides me here I vow,  
I'll straight to Sir john Harcop, and make known  
We were the two that robbed him.  Io. 
Prithee do.  Tho. 
Sin has his shame, and thou shalt ha' thy due.  Exit. Io. 
Thus have I shown the nature of a Brother,  
Though you have proved unnatural to me.  
he's gone in heat to publish out the theft,  
Which want and your unkindness forest us to,  
If now I die that death and public shame,  
Is a corsive to your soul, blot to your name.  Exit. scar. 
O 'tis too true, there's not a thought I think,  
But must partake thy griefs, and drink  
A relish of thy sorrow and misfortune,  
With weight of others tears I am over borne,  
That scarce am Atlas to hold up mine own,  
And all too good for me. A happy Creature  
In my Cradle, and have made myself  
The common curse of mankind by my life,  
Undone my Brothers, made them thieves for bread,  
And begot pretty children to live beggars,  
O Conscience, how thou are stung to think upon't,  
My Brothers unto shame must yield their blood,  
My Babes at others' stirrups beg their food,  
Or else turn thieves to, and be choked for't,  
Die a dog's death, be perched upon a tree,  
Hang betwixt heaven and earth, as fit for neither,  
The curse of heaven that's due to reprobates,  
Descends upon my Brothers, and my children,  
And I am parent to it, ay, I am parent to it.  Enter Butler. But. 
Where are you Sir?  Scar. 
Why starest thou, what's thy haste?  But. 
here's fellows swarm like flies to speak with you.  Scar. 
What are they?  But. 
Snakes I think Sir, for they come with stings in their mouths, and their tongues are turned to teeth to: They claw villainously, they have eat up your honest name, and honourable reputation by railing against you, and now they come to devour your possessions.  Scar. 
In plainer Energy, what are they, speak?  But. 
Mantichoras, monstrous beasts, enemies to mankind, that ha' double rows of teeth in their mouths. They are Usurers, they come yawning for money, & the Sheriff with them, is come to serve an extent upon you Land, and then cease on your body by force of execution, they ha' begirt the house round.  Scar. 
So that the roof our Ancestors did build  
For their sons comfort, and their wives for Charity,  
I dare not to look out.  But. 
Besides Sir, here's your poor children.  scar. 
Poor children they are indeed.  But. 
Come with fire and water: tears in their eyes, and burning grief in their hearts, and desire to speak with you.  scar. 
Heap sorrow upon sorrow? Tell me, are  
My brothers gone to execution?  
For what I did, for every heinous sin,  
Sits on his soul by whom it did begin.  
And so did theirs by me. Tell me withal,  
My children carry moisture in their eyes,  
Whose speaking drops, say father, thus must we  
Ask our relief, or die with infamy,  
For you ha' made us beggars. Yet when thy tale has killed me  
to give my passage comfort from this stage,  
Say all was done by enforced marriage:  
My grave will then be welcome.  But. 
What shall we do sir?  scar. 
Do as the devil does, hate panther-mankind,  
And yet I lie: for devils sinners love,  
When men hate men, though good like some above.  Enter Scarborrowes wife Katherine with two Children. But. 
Your wife's come in sir.  Sca. 
Thou liest, I ha' not a wife. None can be called,  
True man and wife, but those whom heaven installed. Say,  Kath. 
O my dear husband?  Sca. 
You are very welcome, peace: we'll ha' complement.  
Who are you Gentlewoman.  Kat. 
Sir your distressed wife, and these your children.  Sca. 
Mine? Where, how begot:  
Prove me by certain instance that's divine,  
That I should call them lawful, or the mine.  Kat. 
Were we not married sir?  Sca. 
No, though we heard the words of Ceremony,  
But had hands knit as felons that wear fetters  
Forced upon them. For tell me woman,  
Did ere my Love with sighs entreat thee mine,  
Did ever I in willing conference,  
Speak words, made half with tears that I did love thee.  
Or was I ever  
But glad to see thee as all Lovers are.  
No, no, thou know'st I was not.  Ka. 
O me.  But. 
The more's the pity.  Scar. 
But when I came to Church, I did there stand  
All water, whose forest breach had drowned my Land,  
Are you my wife, or these my children?  
Why 'tis impossible, for like the skies,  
Without the suns light, so look all your eyes,  
Dark, Cloudy, thick, and full of heaviness,  
Within my Country there was hope to see  
Me and my issue to be like our fathers,  
Upholders of our Country, all our life,  
Which should ha' been, if I had wed a wife.  
Where now,  
As dropping leaves in autumn you look all,  
And I that should uphold you like to fall,  Ka. 
'twas, nor, shall be my fault. Heaven bear me witness.  Sca. 
Thou liest? strumpet thou liest?  Bu. 
O Sir.  Scar. 
Peace saucy Jack, strumpet I say thou liest,  
For wife of mine thou art not, and these thy bastards  
Whom I begot of thee, with this unrest,  
That Bastards borne, are borne not to be Blessed  Ka. 
One me pour all your wrath, but not on them.  Scar. 
On thee, and them, for 'tis the end of lust,  
To scourge itself, heaven lingering to be just:  
Harlot.  Ka. 
Husband.  Scar. 
bastards.  Child. 
Father.  But. 
What heart not pities this?  Scar. 
even in your Cradle, you were accursed of heaven,  
Thou an Adulteress in thy married arms.  
And they that made the match, bawds to thy lust:  
ay, now you hang the head, shouldst ha' done so before,  
Than these had not been Bastards, thou a whore.  Bue. 
I cannot brooked no longer, Sir you do not well in this?  scar. 
Ha slave.  But. 
'tis not the aim of gentry to bring forth,  
Such harsh unrelished fruit unto their wives,  
And to their pretty pretty children by my troth.  Scar. 
How rascal.  But. 
Sir I must tell you, your progenitors  
Two of the which these years were servant to,  
Had not such mists before their understanding,  
Thus to behave themselves.  Scar. 
And you'll control me sir.  But. 
ay, ay, will.  Scar. 
You rogue.  But. 
I 'tis, I will tell you 'tis ungently done  
Thus to defame your wife, abuse your children,  
Wrong them, you wrong yourself, are they not yours?  Sca. 
Pretty, pretty Impudence in faith,  But. 
Her whom your are bound to love, to rail against,  
These whom you are bound to keep, to spurn like dogs,  
And you were not my master, I would tell you.  Scar. 
What slave.  But. 
Put up your Bird-spit, tut I fear it not,  
In doing deeds so base, so vild as these,  
'tis but a Kna, kna, kna.  Scar. 
Rogue.  But. 
Tut howsoever, 'tis a dishonest part,  
And in defence of these I throw off duty  Scar. 
Good Butler.  But. 
Peace honest Mistress, I will say you are wronged,  
Prove it upon him, even in his blood, his bones,  
His guts, his Maw, his Throat, his Entrails.  Scar. 
You runagate of threescore,  But. 
'tis better than a knave of three and twenty,  Scar. 
Patience be my Buckler,  
As not to file my hands in villains blood,  
You knave Slave-trencher-groom  
Who is your master?  But. 
You if you were a master.  scar. 
Off with your coat then, get you for't a doors.  But. 
My coat sir.  Scar. 
I your coat slave.  But. 
'sfoot when you hate, 'tis but a threadbare coat,  
And there 'tis for you: know that I scorn  
To wear his Livery is so worthy borne,  
And live so base a life, old as I am,  
I'll rather be a beggar than your man,  
And there's your service for you.  Exit scar. 
Away, out of my door: Away.  
So, now your Champions gone, Minx thou hadst better ha' gone  
quick unto thy grave.  Ca. 
O me, that am no cause of it.  Sca. 
Then have suborned that slave to lift his hands against me.  Ka. 
O me, what shall become of me?  Sca. 
I'll teach you tricks for this, ha' you a companion.  Enter Butler. But. 
My heart not suffer me to leave my honest Mistress and her pretty children.  Scar. 
I'll mark thee for a strumpet, and thy Bastards.  But. 
What will you do to them Sir.  scar. 
The Devil in thy shape come back again.  But. 
No, but an honest servant Sir will take this coat,  
And wear it with this sword to safeguard these,  
And pity them, and I am woe for you,  
But will not suffer  
The husband Viperlike to pray on them.  
That love her, and have cherished him as these,  
As they have you.  scar. 
Slave.  But. 
I will not humour you,  
Fight with you, and lose my life or these  
Shall taste your wrong whom you are bound to love.  scar. 
Out of my doors slave.  But. 
I will not, but will stay and wear this coat,  
And do you service whether you will or no.  
I'll wear this sword to, and be Champion,  
To fight for her in spite of any man.  scar. 
You shall. You shall be my master Sir.  But. 
No, I desire it not,  
I'll pay you duty even upon my knee,  
But lose my life, ere these oppressed I'll see.  scar. 
Yes goodman slave, you shall be master,  
Lie with my wife, and get more Bastards, do, do, do.  Ka. 
O me.  scar 
Turns the world upside down, that men o'erbear their  
Masters, It does, it does.  
For even as judas sold his Master Christ,  
Men buy and sell their wives at highest price,  
What will you give me? what will you give me? what will you give me?  
O, Mistress,  
My soul weeps, though mine eyes be dry,  
To see his fall and your adversity,  
Some means I have left, which I'll relieve you with,  
Into your chamber, and if comfort be a kin  
To such great grief, comfort your children.  scar. 
I thank thee Butler, heaven when he please,  
Send death unto the troubled a blessed ease.  Exit with children. But. 
Introth I know not if it be good or ill,  
That with this endless toil I labour thus,  
'tis but the old times Ancient conscience  
That would do no man hurt, that makes me do't,  
If it be sin that I do pity these,  
If it be sin I have relieved his Brothers,  
Have played the thief with them to get their food,  
And made a luckless marriage for his Sister,  
Intended for her good, heaven pardon me.  
But if so, I am sure they are greater sinners,  
That made this match, and were unhappy men,  
For they caused all, and may heaven pardon them.  Enter sir William scarborrow. sir Wil. 
whose's within here.  But. 
Sir William, kindly welcome.  sir Wil. 
Where is my kinsman Scarborrow?  But. 
Sooth he's within sir, but not very well.  sir Will. 
His sickness?  But. 
The hell of sickness, troubled in his mind.  sir Wil. 
I guess the cause of it,  
But cannot now intend to visit him,  
Great business for my sovereign hasts me hence,  
Only this Letter from his Lord and Guardian to him,  
Whose inside I do guess, tends to his good,  
At my return I'll see him, so farewell.  Exit But. 
Whose inside I do guess turns to his good,  
He shall not see it now then, for men's minds  
Perplexed like his, are like Land-troubling-winds,  
Who have no gracious temper.  Enter john Scarborrow. john. 
O Butler.  But. 
What's the fright now?  John 
Help straight, or on the tree of shame  
We both shall perish for the robbery.  But. 
What be't revealed man?  john 
Not yet good Butler, only my brother Thomas  
In spleen to me, that would not suffer him  
To kill our elder brother, had undone us  
Is riding now to sir john Harcop straight, to disclose it.  But. 
Heart, who would rob with Sucklings:  
Where did you leave him?  john 
Now taking horse to ride to Yorkshire.  But. 
I'll stay his journey, lest I meet a hanging.  Exeunt Enter Scarrborrow. Scar. 
I'll parley with the Devil: ay, I will,  
He gives his council freely, and the cause  
He for his Clients pleads, goes always with them,  
He in my cause shall deal then: and I'll ask him  
Whether a Cormorant may have stuffed Chests  
And see his brother starve: why he'll say I,  
The less they give, the more I gain thereby.  Enter Butler. 
Their souls, their souls, their souls.  
How now master? Nay, you are my master?  
Is my wives sheets warm? does she kiss well?  Bat. 
Good sir.  Scar. 
Foe, makt not strange for in these days,  
There's many men lie in their masters sheets,  
And so may you in mine and yet: Your business sir?  But. 
There's one in civil habit sir, would speak with you.  scar. 
In civil habit.  But: 
He is of seemly rank sir, and calls himself  
By the name of Doctor Baxtor of Oxford.  scar. 
That man undid me, he did blossoms blow  
Whose fruit proved poison, though 'twas good in show,  
With him I'll parley, and disrobe my thoughts  
Of this wild frenzy that becomes me not:  
A table, candles, stools, and all things fit,  
I know he comes to chide me, and I'll hear him,  
With our sad conference we will call up tears,  
Teach Doctors rules, instruct succeeding years:  
Usher him in:  
Heaven spare a drop from thence where's bounties throng  
Give patience to my soul, inflame my tongue.  Enter Doctor. Doct. 
God master Scarborow.  Sca. 
You are most kindly welcome, sooth ye are.  Doct. 
I ha important business to deliver you.  Sca. 
And I have leisure to attend your hearing.  Doct. 
Sir, you know I married you.  Sca. 
I know you did sir.  Doct. 
At which you promised both to God and men,  
Your life unto your spouse should like snow,  
That falls to comfort, not to overthrow,  
And love unto your issue should be like  
The dew of heaven, that hurts not though it strike,  
When heaven and men did witness and record  
'twas an eternal oath, no idle word  
Heaven being pleased therewith, blessed you with children,  
And at heavens blessings, all good men rejoice.  
So that God's chair and footstool, heaven and earth  
Made offering at your nuptials as a knot  
To mind you of your vow, O break it not?  scar. 
'tis very true.  Doc. 
Now sir, from this your oath and band,  
faith's pledge, and seal of conscience you ha' run,  
Broken all contracts, and the forfeiture,  
justice hath now in suit against your soul,  
Angels are made the Jurors, who are witnesses  
Unto the oath you took, and God himself  
Maker of marriage, he that sealed the deed,  
As a firm lease unto you during life,  
Sirs now as judge of your transgression,  
The world informs against you with this voice,  
If such sins reign, what mortals can rejoice.  scar. 
What then ensues to me?  Doc. 
A heavy doom, whose executions  
Now served upon your conscience, that ever  
You shall feel plagues whom time shall not dissever,  
As in a map your eyes see all your life,  
Bad words, worse deeds, false oaths, and all the injuries,  
You ha' done unto your soul, then comes your wife,  
Full of woes drops, and yet as full of pity,  
Who though she speaks not, yet her eyes are swords,  
That cut your heartstrings, and then your children.  scar. 
Oh, oho, oh.  Doc. 
Who what they cannot say talk in their looks,  
You have made us up, but as misfortune's books,  
Whom other men may read in, when presently,  
Tasked by yourself, you are not like a Thief,  
Astonished being accused, but scorch with grief,  scar. 
ay, ay, I.  Doct. 
Here stands your wives tears.  scar. 
Where?  Doc. 
And you fry for them, here lie your children's wants.  Sca. 
Here?  Doct. 
For which you pine in conscience burn,  
And wish you had been better, or near borne.  Scar. 
does all this happen to a wretch like me.  Doc. 
Both this and worse, your soul eternally  
Shall live in torment, though the body die.  Scar. 
I shall ha' need of drink then Butler,  Doc. 
Nay all your sins are on your children laid,  
For the offences that the father made.  Scar. 
Are they Sir.  Doc. 
Be sure they are.  Enter Butler. Scar. 
Butler.  But. 
Sir?  scar. 
Go fetch my wife and children hither.  But. 
I will sir.  sca. 
I'll read a Letter to the Doct. too, he's a Divine? I he's a Divine.  But. 
I see his mind is troubled, and have made bold with duty to read a Letter tending to his good, have made his Brother's friends: both which I will conceal till better temper: He sends me for his wife and children, shall I fetch 'em.  scar. 
he's a Divine, and this Divine did marry me, that's good, that's good,  Doc. 
Master Scarborrow.  Scar. 
I'll be with you straight Sir,  But. 
I will obey him,  
If any thing doth happen that is Ill,  
Heaven bear me record 'tis against Butlers will.  Exit. scar. 
And this Divine did marry me,  
Whose tongue should be the key to open truth,  
As God's Ambassador. Deliver, deliver, deliver.  Do. 
Master Scarborrow.  sca. 
I'll be with you straight sir,  
Salvation to afflicted consciences,  
And not give torment to contented minds,  
Who should be lamps to comfort out our way,  
And not like Fire-drakes to lead men astray,  
ay, I'll be with you straight sir.  Enter Butler. But. 
Here's your wife and children sir?  scar. 
Give way then,  
I ha' my lesson perfect, leave us here.  But. 
Yes I will go, but I will be so near,  
To hinder the mishap the which I fear.  Exit Butler. scar. 
Now sir, you know this Gentlewoman?  Doct. 
Kind mistress Scarborrow,  Scar. 
Nay pray you keep your seat, for you shall hear,  
The same affliction you ha' taught me fear,  
Due to yourself.  Doc. 
To me sir.  scar. 
To you sir,  
You matched me to this Gentlewoman.  Doct. 
I know I did sir.  scar. 
And you will say she is my wife then.  Doc. 
I ha' reason sir, because I married you.  scar. 
O that such tongues should ha' the time to lie,  
Who teach men how to live, and how to die,  
Did not you know my soul had given my faith,  
In contract to another, and yet you  
Would join this Loom unto unlawful twists.  Doct. 
Sir.  scar. 
But sir,  
You that can see a Mote within my eye,  
And with a Cassock blind your own defects,  
I'll teach you this, 'tis better to do ill,  
That's never known to us, then of self will,  
And these all these in thy seducing eye,  
As scorning life make 'em be glad to die.  Doc. 
Me Scarborrow.  scar. 
Here will I write, that they which marry wives,  
Unlawful live with strumpets all their lives.  
Here will I seal the children that are born,  
From wombs unconsecrate, even when their soul  
Has her infusion, it registers they are foul,  
And shrinks to dwell with them, and in my close,  
I'll show the world, that such abortive men,  
Knit hands without free tongues look red like them  
Stand you and you, to acts most Tragical,  
Heaven has dry eyes, when sin, makes sinners fall.  Doc. 
Help master Scarborrow,  Child. 
Father.  Ka. 
Husband.  Sca. 
These for thy act should die, she for my Clare,  
Whose wounds stare thus upon me for revenge.  
These to be rid from misery, this from sin,  
And thou thyself shalt have a push amongst 'em,  
That made heavens word a packhorse to thy tongue.  
Cotest scripture to make evils shine like good,  
And as I send you thus with worms to dwell,  
Angels applaud it as a deed done well.  Enter Butler. But.. 
Stay him, stay him.  
What will you do sir.  Scar. 
Make fat worms of stinking carcases,  
What hast thou to do with it?  Enter Ilford and his wife, the two Brothers, and Sir William Scarborrow But. 
Look who are here sir.  Sca. 
Injurious villain that prevent'st me still.  But. 
They are your brothers and alliance Sir.  Scar. 
They are like full ordinance then, who once discharged,  
afar off give a warning to my soul,  
That I had done them wrong.  sir Will 
Kinsman.  Brother and sister. 
Brother.  Ka. 
Husband.  Child. 
Father.  scar, 
Hark how their words like Bullets shoot me thorough  
And tell me I have undone 'em, this side might say.  
We are in want, and you are the cause of it,  
This points at me, yore shame unto your house,  
This tongue says nothing, but her looks do tell,  
she's married but as those that live in hell:  
Whereby all eyes are but misfortunes pipe,  
Filled full of woe by me, this feels the stripe.  But. 
Yet look Sir,  
here's your Brother's hand in hand, whom I ha' knit so.  Wife. 
And look Sir here's my husband's hand in mine,  
And I rejoice in him, and he in me.  sir wil. 
I say coz what is past, the way to bliss,  
For they know best to mend, that know amiss,  Ka. 
we kneel, forget, and say if you but love us,  
You gave us grief for future happiness.  scar. 
What all this to my Conscience?  But. 
Ease, promise of succeeding joy to you,  
Read but this Letter.  sir Will. 
Which tells you that your Lord & Guardians dead.  But. 
Which tells you that he knew he did you wrong,  
Was grieved for't, and for satisfaction  
Hath given you double of the wealth you had.  Bro. 
Increased our portions.  Wife. 
Given me a dowry too.  But. 
And that he knew,  
Your sin was his, the punishment his due.  Sca. 
All this is here,  
Is heaven so gracious to sinners then?  But. 
Heaven is, and has his gracious eyes,  
To give men life not like entrapping spies.  scar. 
Your hand, yours, yours, to you my soul, to you a kiss,  
Introth I am sorry I ha' strayed amiss,  
To whom shall I be thankful. All silent:  
None speak: whist: why then to God,  
That gives men comfort as he gives his rod,  
Your portions I'll see paid, and I will love you,  
You three I'll live withal, my soul shall love you,  
You are an honest servant, sooth you are,  
To whom, I these and all must pay amends,  
But you I will admonish in cool terms,  
Let not promotions hope, be as a string,  
To tie your tongue, or let lose it to sting.  Doc. 
From hence it shall not Sir.  scar. 
Then husbands thus shall nourish with their wives.  Kiss Ilf. 
As thou and I will wench.  
Brothers in brotherly love thus link together,  Embrace. sca. 
Children and servants pay their duty thus.  bow and kneel. 
And all are pleased.  All. 
We are.  scar. 
Then if all these be so,  
I am new wed so ends old marriage woe,  
And in your eyes so lovingly being wed,  
We hope your hands will bring us to our bed.  
FINIS.