TWO WISE MEN AND ALL THE REST fools: OR A COMICAL MORAL, CENsuring the follies of this age, as it hath been divers times acted.  
Anno. 1619.   


Names of the Actors.  
Proberio.  
Antonio.  
Rustico.  
Sperato.  
Insatiato.  
Lamia.  
Malingua.  
Furioso.  
Purgato.  
Parvagracio.  
Simplo.  
Securus.  
Hortano.  
Spurco.  
Infaelicto.  
Susanna.  
Mureto.  
Corraso.  
Stercorato.  
Levitia.  
Noverindo.  
Hermito.  
Acuto.  
Gulato.  
Granato.  
Phantastico.  
Camerado.  
Pestifero.  
Vulcano.    

prologus.  
RIGHT noble and worthy Assembly: It hath been a very ancient and laudable custom, in the best governed commonwealths, to admit and favourably to allow interludes and discourses upon the Stage for divers reasons; but especially two. The one, to entertain the welconditioned people with some delightful and fruitful conceits, thereby as it were to deceive idleness of that time which it had allotted for worse purposes. The other, for the just reprehension of such as with serious and more grave advisings cannot or will not be so freely admonished and corrected. The later of these two respects hath begotten this Dialogue, ready to be acted, principally and specially pointing that Imp which is infortunately fostered up to this day, to ruin itself with infamy. Only this comfort is afforded, that if he be present, and withal silent, he may suppose that of all others it concerns not him. If he be absent (as most likely he is) than every other that finds himself parcel guilt may see the deformity, and forbear the excess. Other touches and passages are, which our Author and we present not with mind to offend any, but to please the weldisposed. And so in the name of all the rest I entreat courteous audience, and pardon of all faults.   
TWO WISE MEN AND ALL THE REST fools.  

ACT I.  

SCENA I.  Enter Proberio alone. 
HOw much we that have been travailers differ from other kinds of people? So soon as we arrive, we are attended to the Burse or rendezvous of Merchants. There we walk as if the whole world hath need to be informed, yea and directed by us in matters of greatest moment; such as is traffic and commerce with foreign nations, and the state and disposition of those kingdoms through which we have passed. For it may be we can give intelligence of preparations and invasions. We can demonstrate their strength and munition. We can number their Captains and Generals. We can discover their designs and confederates. And finally, we can lay plots to cross and make void all their purposes, and stratagems, which these homebred and country spun people can never attain unto. Therefore by good right we are had in esteem, and special request, and courteously received of Councillors of state wheresoever we come. Neither do we tie ourselves to any one dominion more than another, but indifferently to all states we deliver freely the condition of every nation. And the place we fall into is our best beloved so long as there we tarry, and not a minute longer. We oblige ourselves to no Prince for gold nor gain, nor be pensioners to any Monarch: but with desire to see more we pass through all governments, unchecked and uncontrolled, because we take part with none, offend, none, nor are false to any. And this life we love above all lives, not content with any life, but that which seeks another life.  Enter Simplo and Noverindo. 
monsieur Proberio, you are welcome home.  Pro. 
That's more than you know signior Simplo, what country shallbe my home?  Simp. 
Then you are welcome into England.  Pro. 
Thanks gentle Simplo.  Simp. 
What news? And what company came over with you?  Pro. 
News I have none but ordinary to tell you. With the state I shall have some business. And in my company came over an old acquaintance of yours, one signior Antonio, a man of extraordinary action and faction.  Simp. 
If it be the man I conjecture him to be, his name is plain Anthony, an English man, borne some 70 miles from London North-west, and hath been beyond seas some seven or twelve years.  Pro. 
That's the man. But we call him signior Antonio, by reason of his travailers in Italy and other places.  Simp. 
As he hath changed his name and country, hath he not altered his conditions? I assure you he was very honest, and of good expectation before he went.  Pro. 
No, upon my word. He came over a great deal better than he went, and well qualified: and there was no doubt but he would continue so still, but that covetousness, and the devil's on't.  Simp. 
What? is he given to that? it were great pity.  Pro. 
Well, this Sir Antonio or Anthony whether you will, hath seen many countries, and learned many strange qualities.  Simp. 
Strange qualities! be they as good as they be strange?  Pro. 
Nay, do you judge? I'll tell you some of them. And if you like them, we'll put them in print, and set them up to be sold at the Hospital porch, near S. Nicholas shambles, and annexed to the great thing in magna chart, or magno folio, entitled, an Admonition to householders.  Simp. 
Well, if they deserve so, it shallbe so; and I'll bestow the cost in printing, and deal with a friend for their allowance sub privilegio.  Pro. 
But first I'll account to thee what accidents we had in travail.  Simp. 
But I'll hear nothing till I hear them.  Pro. 
No? what if I should first read a Sermon preached within these seven days at Amsterdam by a man of most pure profession and invention not ordinary, passing all that lived before or behind him in the novel strain; himself of the right cut of Carolstadius: in which Sermon he proves most devoutly, that it is Idolatry to fight against the Turk. Wouldst thou not hear that first?  Simp. 
No. What tell'st thou me of Sermons? let's have these qualities without any more digressions.  Pro. 
Well, since you are so desirous, you shall have them by whole sale, retail them at leisure when you come home.  
Imprimis, when he liveth in a great town like, London, he loves to lie in a corner over the Kitchen, because the jack shall not whirl too often, to waken or distract him in prayer. His dinners are for the most part ordinary, except four days in the week he visit his housekeeping friends. And at supper a couple of eggs, and a bit of cheese is a choice diet after a liberal dinner: besides it saves fire and washing of dishes.  Simp. 
But if I were his man, if he kept no better cheer at his chamber, I would make the cheese fry until the butter were spent.  Pro. 
But your cunning would fail you, for he hath a trick beyond your reach for preserving his cheese. But to the next.  
Secondly, he so cavils and wrangles with any man that he deals withal, that they never agree or love after, and yet every Saturday he makes even with all the world.  Simp. 
Thou tell'st me a wonder. How shall I believe this?  Pro. 
It is so: choose whether thou wilt believe me, or no.  Simp. 
Let me see how these can be reconciled.  Pro. 
Canst thou not reconcile them? I see thou art a very barren fellow; thou hast not a spoonful of wit. I am sorry that ever I undertook to teach thee these incomparable tricks of Don Antonio, laboured for so toughly in climbing the Alps, and so dangerously brought down. Thou look'st too near-hand, as if a man would spy for a Woodcock in the next queath of bushes; whereas thou oughtst to elevate thy aspect to thy uttermost kenning, as those do that lie on their backs to keep sight of hawks which aspire beyond the first region. Search me the furthest corner of thy capacity, and there see if perhaps do lie as in an abstruse angles, some secret pattern of these projects. Every Buzzard will pry if a mole or a mouse shall happen in an hours watching to creep from a bush right under her stand: give me the Eagle soaring conceits, to spy what springs before the furthest ranger a mile off.  Simp. 
I know not how to dive into this bottomless secret. It is sure some riddle. I pray thee suspend me no longer: for if I should beat my brains with an Iron pestle, not a sprinkle of them will light upon the outside of this enigmatical proposition. Nay, good now tell me, how he that palters with everybody, should be even at weeks end.  Pro. 
Well, I will not stick with thee for this once, but look not for it often; for I'll not use you to it. Find them out by your own study for me hereafter. You are of age one would think. Thus it is: hearken well what I say at first. for I'll not repeat it again for losing of time. He is even with all the world every Saturday. Those were my words, and I'll make them good; mark diligently.  Simp. 
Nay, pray thee dispatch, or else I cannot mark as I was wont to do. The mark will be out of my mouth if you come not quickly out with it.  Pro. 
Well, every Saturday night he makes even with all the world, because he willbe the better disposed against Sunday. Hem Ha.  Simp. 
Alas! not yet, I am not able to endure it, I faint.  Pro. 
He is even that is to say. Ha. Ha. Hae.  Simp. 
O my heart: not yet. A pennyworth of Aquavita, if I shall live.  Pro. 
Hold, hold: thou shalt have it presently: 'tis at my tongue's end.  Simp. 
Well, say on. If my senses fail not, I'll hear you.  Pro. 
He loves nobody then, and nobody loves him. And thus thou seest there's no odds, but all even.  Simp. 
What a jest is this? there's an even reckoning with the devils name. You shall be hanged before I'll torment myself with desire to hear any more of your knavish tricks. I'll be sworn I had like to marred all. It wrought with me like a purgation. It has given me a treble stool at once, though I find no fault. I have it hot, and worse than any perfuming pan in the world. You scurvy fellow, an 'twere no for losing land I have (he lays his hand upon his sword )not marvel though a man must be sick at heart (I swear) and study so hard, and strain my wits to reach the reason of this riddle. I am sure I did overshoot it 40. yards, and had like to put a dozen cases, how these two cases might well enough have stood together in one subject salva conscientia, taken out of Scotus, and Thomas Aquinas, fully resolved by them; but still I doubted I should fall short: therefore I thought better to conceal them: and now dost thou gull me thus grossly?  Pro. 
Ha. Ha. Hae. An thou be a good fellow rehearse three or four of these cases thou hadst like to have produced; and let's judge how fitly they had been applied if need had been.  Simp. 
To what end? for thee to mock me more? you may command: but if I were willing, thou hast now put them quite out of my mind, I know not where to begin.  Pro. 
I think so. Thou were pockily distempered.  Simp. 
will't please you to proceed? let's hear some more of your goodly squires conditions.  Pro. 
Thirdly. When he means to ride to his countryhouse, he goes three days before to some grooms at court. And if from them he learn any news (if it be but of a posy given the king of France by his nurse, or that a fisher man sailing by the Bermoothes saw a fire at singing of a hog) this carries him scotfree to all the gentlemen's houses of his acquaintance situate, set, lying, & being within seven miles of the high way of any side until at length he set foot at his own stable door pecunijs numeratis remaining entire in his right pocket. And the like he can do retrogrado to London, but by variety of friends because the same news may be news forward and backward.  Simp. 
This is a very plain trick, and needs no such encomions, and Epithets of commendation as you bestow on it.  Pro. 
Is it so Sir? there's your judgement, and bolt soon shot. But if I show that it is a very difficile, ambiguous, perilous, perplexed and involved stratagem, what will become of your opinion hereafter?  Simp. 
Who? here's a business about riding a few miles by many gentlemen's houses, as though it requires such ingenious circumstances.  Pro, 
ay, that it does Sir. And I undertake to make it appear though perhaps you have near a capcase to put it in.  
First signor Anthony so soon as he puts foot in the stirrup, is to fear lest the Master & Mistress should not be at home & his perplexity in that case is very hardly dissolved.  
Secondly how to carry his tales and discourses methodically.  
Thirdly to take heed he discover no familiarity with the gentleman's adversary.  
Lastly what kind of farewell he were best to take at parting. These be matters of mighty moment (as thou seest) which he hath to cast, and recast; to meditate, and ponder; to toss, and tumble; to revolve, and resolve; to put forward with Pro, and pull back with contra, to object, and confute; to throw doubts and mishaps like snowballs, and against them erect bulwarks & defences, to admit wounds & scars, and to apply salves; to conclude, come what come will to have cordials in store, & all little enough to save his best beloved in his purse. And yet thou Dunstable breed thoughtst it as easy a matter to perform them handsomely as to make a good posset with a quart of new like and a quantity of clear chamber-lye.  Simp. 
Sir I confess all these be far above my element: and that in many years study I cannot comprehend one of them, therefore, I leave them to your cavalier without Peer in mine opinion. Hath he any more qualities of this nature? Let's have them, for at least I shall learn some wit out of them.  Pro. 
Thou learn wit out of them? never while thou livest: not honestly neither. They will rather rob thee of those wits thou hast, he hath infinite such as these, which in very pity to thee I forbear to relate at this time. These are enough to conceive at once. For if I should drive them all into thy brains together, though it were with a ten-pennynail, thou couldst not carry them away: but rather they would make thee mad in the case thou art now.  Simp. 
Why? what case am I in thinkst thou?  Pro. 
Not sit I was to receive such potions without due preparation.  Simp. 
What shall I do to be made fit for their operation? I'll take any course thou wilt prescribe me to get perfection. And I can imitate like an Ape.  Pro. 
Thou mak'st a large offer, & a rash, which full soon (I doubt) thou wilt revoke: but i'll try thee. Before thou begin to profess this art, thou must forget all rules and instructions of manners taught thee by thy fathers, godfathers, or schoolmasters, and renounce all good counsel given thee from the beginning of the world to this day: that so being an empty and void vessel thou mayst be the more apt to receive the tincture and impression applied. And thus begin thy A.B.C. in Machiavelli's school. Otherwise; if thou shouldst reserve but so much as a secret intention to keep thine old honesty on the one side of thy head, and lay open the other side to entertain these restless and still stirring crotchets, there would be such hurly-burly in thy brain, that all the wit thou hast will not keep them in order. Therefore, if thou desirest to be of the cunning crew, and withal lov'st thine own peace, come clear without wit or honesty, we'll teach enough in a week to serve thee all thy life time. I'll bring thee acquainted, and then i'll turn him lose to teach and furnish thee with destructions enough for a whole country.  Simp. 
Destructions. What should I do with them except it were to destroy others. But I doubt I shall pay dear for my schooling, and that I like not. But for the other point of parting with my former good lessons, faith, I can quickly do that for I never gained any thing by them, therefore I can be content to come to him as naked as ever I was born.  Pro. 
That's great step to your well profiting I may say to you; and 'tis a great sign of grace to be obedient, and wholly to resign yourself to good inspirations: but canst thou tell when thou hast good counsel given thee?  Simp. 
Not I; more than a child: For now you ha'made me put off all my old learning I am become a very innocent, as if I were this day taken from my mammy: but I trust you because you are my friend. I hope you'll put me to none, but such as shall teach me enough for my money. And you say he is wise and will give me samples enough, & then I warrant you I'll take 'em like a sponge till I be twice so big as I am.  Pro. 
Well, then thus far we are agreed. And I wish you not to stand upon his getting by you, lest you be penny-wise, and pound foolish.  Simp. 
How learned you his cunning so perfectly? have you known him long.  Pro. 
O, I? why I have known him these 30 years at least, and conversed with him in his best times; somewhat it cost me you must think, but that's past. I would not for any thing but that I did known thoroughly.  Simp. 
Has he been in Italy then as you said before?  Pro. 
I that he has, and carried from thence more than all the towns in Italy could spare.  Simp. 
what's that?  Prob. 
I will not tell thee, thou hast already more than thou canst well bear: thou art almost drunk with the very smell of his wit, or else thou wouldst never so idly ask me a question which I told thee twenty times.  Nover. 
monsieur Proberio, I have heard all the conference between you and Simplo: and I do so much mislike your discourse that I cannot choose but oppose myself in my friends behalf whom I hear egregiously to be wronged by you Proberio.  Pro. 
In what Noverindo, have I done him injury?  Nov. 
In all your speech generally: and in many particulars.  Pro. 
O universal Noverindo in what particulars?  Nov. 
'tis no matter. I'll tell him all when we meet next.  Pro. 
That's not matter. but canst thou disprove me in any thing I said? or dost thou know any good by him that I have not spoken of?  Nov. 
Faith, or else I know but little: for if you praise a friend on this fashion I prithee speak the worst thou canst by me.  Pro. 
Sir, it may be I'll pleasure you so much: but to the matter; canst thou disprove me in any thing I said?  Nov. 
Yes, that I can, & that I will. I can disprove thee in that thou saidst he never deals with any man but he cavils, and wrangles with him, which is untrue. And I had much ado to keep in my mother tongue, but could have found in my heart presently to have put the lie down thy throat, but I did bridle my nature to hear all thou wouldst speak. And now to demonstrat thy falsehood, I say, and will justify that he is as good a 10 i'th' 100 man either to give or take as any is in London; and that he keeps his days (especially of receipt) as strictly to an hour as any man. And further, that he cavilleth or wrangleth not with any in this Kind: therefore you are a lying fellow.  Prob. 
Not to forward with your lies Noverindo if you love yourself: for though I will not fight for fear of the proclamation yet know I can make you give me satisfaction upon your knee if I would complain: but I will seek no such advantage; for the cause itself give me victory enough over thee, and returns the lie most bravely into thy gullet. I can prove Nody Noverindo, that in thy own trade and his of decem per cent. when he lost 100l which the scrivener delivered his own messenger after the bond sealed, (who ran away with the money) he broke his day, and sued the scrivener striving to recover the whole, or some composition by that means.  Nov. 
But did he recover any? or did the scrivener give him any thing? 000?  Pro. 
He recovered not; nor got any thing from the scrivener. But was not this a wrangle, and a shameful cavil? yea and with a Noverint man himself which thou deniest? 000 now thou liest in thy swallowing place Noverindo.  Nov. 
signior Simple, Help me a little. Canst thou say no good of this gentleman? it frets me to the heart to hear a man of our own making to be thus misused.  Simp. 
Faith not I, not much, saving that I have heard many years ago that he was a reasonable honest man but for's religion, and they say still he's a kind of a Papist.  Nov. 
What a rascal 'stis? do I call thee to speak in his behalf, and dost thou prate of religion? what has he or I to do with religion? I dare swear that he's an honest man of no religion. (Intrat Antonio )and yonder's the man, let's see now who dares charge him with religion. I hope he and I have work enough and never busy our selves about religion. So many bankrupts, and housekeepers now adays 'tis time to look about us.  Pro. 
What? dost thou find fault with housekeepers: you'll please him never a whit with that, for an't were not for good housekeepers he would have many hungry meals.  Nov. 
I find fault with such housekeepers as dare not show their faces without their own doors. I cannot endure this. I'll complain to him on you both, if ever he light on you within the lash of the law, there's no mercy: and 'tis no matter, teach you to speak so evil of him behind his back.  Pro. 
Why coxcomb; how canst thou tell his back was towards us.  Nov. 
Well, mock on, 'twas in his absence, that's all one: I'll tell him if you'll give me nothing.  Pro. 
Give thee, yes a rope (Noverindo turns toward Antonio )these caterpillars are all for what will you give me like Judas.  Enter Nov. and Anton. at several doors Noverrindo speaks. Nov. 
Bonus dies▪ signior Antonio, Magnifico; the worthiest gentleman that ever consorted with the bankers of this city. Sir I hope you make no doubt nos teneri & firmiter obligari tibi aut tuo certo atturnato, etc. And further obligamus nos, & quemlibet nostrum, haeredes, & executores nostros etc. The condition is to be ever ready at your lowest service.  Pro. 
What a rogue 'stis? he can speak nothing but obligations as Ovid did verses.  Ant. 
gramercies gentle Noverindo: how go the rates now?  Nov. 
Sir you may have as much as you will at eight in the hundred, others pay ten.  Ant. 
I thank you: than I have a match already: a friend of mine must use a thousand pound and entreats my band; I'll say he shall have it by my means. Thou shalt have forty shillings in the hundred for brocage: and I will gain other forty shillings, this is but twelve in the hundred that's dog cheap, I know some pay a great deal more: And I'll have good land twice the worth for my counter security. Let me alone to hamper them.  Nov. 
You are wiser sir, fast bind fast find. And if they fail you'll trice them. I trow upon the mortgage.  Ant. 
Ah ha, art advised of that? surely I shall do them good to make the fools take heed of others. And what fault is in me, a bargain is a bargain: and if I give them a little more for their land when it is forfeited, they may thank me but no parting with the land, for it is so deep if a man would dig it that it reacheth to hell, and there's no redemption.  Nov. 
Well, this is agreed: and if you will have 3000l speak but the word, and give three days warning, we'll come at your whistle as your wife was wont to do: but there's a thing I must impart to you which (I hope) you will take well at my hands, being but the relator.  Ant. 
What? is any bankrupt that hath my sums put forth?  Nov. 
Not one, they are as safe as in your chest.  Ant. 
Let it be what it will then, I care not a rush.  Nov. 
Sir it is some discredit to you if it be true.  Ant. 
If it be true, and discredit I weigh it not.  Nou. 
Ah noble Antony (he embraceth him )pardon me if I be bold with your worship, for no man could have spoken more pithily, and more like our own corporate brother then this was: why Sir for all the world so are we, never moved say what men will: we could not live richly if men had cause to speak well of us, give me your hand, I'll live & die with you for that word; and lo here with this hand of mine I reach you the hearts of all our company; now I dare say any thing to you without fear, or blushing. That which I was so unwilling to utter was no more but this: it is very credibly reported that you never deal, or contract with any but you cavil, wrangle, palter, wrench, shift, chop, change, deny, refuse, go back from your word, break off, and play all manner of fowl play; whereupon all men speak evil of you, and as many as had once commerce will never more meddle with you.  Ant. 
All this is nothing, I have heard twenty times so much with my own ears, and smile at the poor fellows that they spend their time with talking of me. But didst thou ever hear but I gained by them all.  Nov. 
Nay, that's certain: they all agree on that as a verdict.  Anto. 
Why, there's it then. Now thou seest where wit lodgeth, with me, or with them.  Nov. 
Faith 'tis true. And they have nothing to charge a man withal but Conscience and Religion, and such impertinent stuff. But I think I have taken down some of them about the word Religion of the oldest stamp, that you should be tainted withal, and I trow I have so silenced them that you shall not need to trouble yourself with studying to revenge it.  Anto. 
ay, they talk their pleasure behind my back, but I wish they would speak one word to ground an action upon. Didst thou hear him (whosoever he was) say, I am a Papist?  Nov. 
O, no Sir, I warrant you, they dare not for forty pound say so. But that you were one, that you look like one, that your heart is so still, if you durst for losing some of your goods, that you were honester when you stuck to it. That now you dissemble. And such like words full of suspicion, but not to bear an action. They are crafty enough for that. But I trow. Sir, you are too wise, and so I answered for you.  Anto. 
Thou didst well. I know some of them would gladly catch me in a trip. But I'll watch them well enough.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. I.  
SCENA II.  Enter Securus and Hermito at several doors. Sir Hermito. 
No man better met here then yourself. I was in great care for an Associate in the affair with this day, and almost every day I undertake.  Her. 
Sir my society will afford you small contentment, if my daily tasks required not my attendance, where by perpetual vow I have engaged all my hours until my death. For I am fit for no other employment but my beads. Nevertheless if it please you briefly to let me know your desire, I will by my answer you reasonable satisfaction.  Secu. 
When I do seriously consider the world's present condition: And that we which converse abroad with all sorts of people are subject to so many mistaking, censures, and untrue reports, that it passeth the skill of any man to carry himself uprightly, & without blame, I begin to judge you, and your like only happy, who choosing to leave the world, have procured quietness to your life. But Sir Hermito, I marvel what hath removed you from your cave to the country. Are you as weary of private living, as I am of too much company? The news must needs be great, and strange which brings you hither.  Her. 
No such matter, as that my intended course of dwelling with myself sequestered from all resort, should have an end so long as my abode in this world endureth. Far be it from my thought ever to wish the change of my estate. As now I am I trouble not others, nor any man offendeth me. And where no mistake is, who can think of alteration? my resolution hath bred my contentment: the peace which I enjoy, counter-valueth all manner of wants. And my spiritual exercises take away tediousness. The cause of my coming hither (Sir Securus) is a Proclamation lately set forth by the king, that all his subject being men of 21 years, & upwards, living within 50 miles of the Court, shall appear there within 14 days after notice given them. And about three days past, a pilgrim passing by my cell, told me of this Edict, and that it was upon allegiance. So I being his subject (though serving him to no other purpose, but praying for him) thought it my duty to make my appearance. and to depart without delay.  Secu. 
Sir, I am right to have intercepted you (whether you be travailing to or fro the Court) because this day is appointed for hearing and determining many controversies, and censuring sundry sorts of people: And some of these differences beyond my learning. You therefore come very fitly to aid me. And this whole affair being principally for peace making, and ending debates without suit of Law, you may not refuse to join with me in a work of so great charity.  Her. 
In very deed Sir, every aught to yield his best help to such works. And although I have already recorded my appearance at Court, and licensed to return to my poor home, and would willingly spend some hours with you to so good a purpose; yet (Alas Sir) I am like to prevail very little with anybody, wanting both acquaintance and authority among them whosoever they be: therefore I entreat my fruitless presence may be spared; but I will not be wanting to you with my prayers for your success.  Secu. 
Sir, for your authority and acquaintance it shall not skill. All that I have both those ways, shallshall conferred upon you equally with myself. If they despise you, they shall contemn me also. Only I entreat your company this day, and then I cease troubling you further whatsoever need require hereafter.  Her. 
Sir I expect no entreaty, neither will I wrong you so much as to make further request to my poor self. I stay willingly and am at your service in all things.  Secu. 
No servant of mine Sir, but my friend upon equal terms.  They both sit down in chairs some distance each from other.   

ACT. II.  

SCENA. I.  Enter Rustico, Hortano, Acuto, and Vulcano. 
Neighbour Hortano, I have considered of the great coil we had the last sabbath after evening prayer in the vestry about putting down the holidays. It hinders our business much. And methinks this praying in a Church among those of high degree is nothing pleasantable, and blushing takes away my devotion. I can pray a great deal better, and with a more comely grace when I whistle at plow. And methinkest were a goodly matter if every man in's calling might follow his focation, and there do such devotion as his stomach stands to.  Hor. 
Faith, neighbour Rustico, I am even of your mind. For I'll bide by it, I ha' more weeds grows in one Holiday, then in three worky days.  Rust. 
O, you are a Gardener, it becomes you well to agree with the Husband man, if we two hold together, we shallbe too hard for twenty fools.  Hor. 
Indeed 'twere a gay thing if we could put down these holidays, as you say. methinks 'twere an easy matter as well as we ha' put down the fasting-days pell-mell, hand over head. An we wood hang together 'twere soon done, but when some are so arseward 'twill never be.  Acu. 
You talk you know not what. There were no reason in it: for that were the way to break all order, and give our minds altogether to toil, and never serve God. For you would not stay there neither if you had your will, but the Sundays should shortly go down for company. You will leave nothing standing.  Rust. 
O, you are a Tailor, you speak for your profit. For an 'twere not for holidays, which require fine clothes, and much change, you might beg your bread.  Vul. 
You hit the nail on the head neighbour Rustico. we'll put them down an you'll keep stroke with me.  Acu. 
Nay Sirrah, if any man hit the nail on the head, it should be you, because you are a Smith; but soft, you are so hot with your rip rapping, that you miss the nail and Anvil also. For my part although I do boldly work on holidays as other tailors use Christmas day and all, yet would I not miss the holidays for any good, nor would I break the order without necessity. But is it so easy a matter to put down the holidays think you? And will you do it with the furious fire-fork? And you Master Gardner that will rake up holidays and fasting-days like weeds, and bury them all in a trench, you are both both foully deceived. For neither have you put down the fasting-days, because still they are bidden in Churches, nor is the case alike: for Fasting is private, and cannot so well be punished, but if you come not to Church, up you go not to Church, up you go for a Recusant an you were my father.  Rust. 
Why for all that should we be troubled with so many holidays? wood not fewer serve the turn as well? I do not think our auncetrums were so pestered.  Acu. 
Yea, and with many more; and kept the eves half holy.  Rust. 
How didne a then for doing their business? sure a were all beggars. And yet 'twood anger me that my grandsire should be a beggar. I it wood.  Acu. 
Not so neither. They lived very well: and had not the twentieth beggar that we have: and were great housekeepers every man almost. They built all the Towns, Colleges, and Religious houses.  Rust. 
Didne a so indeed? I cha heard my grandsire, & grannam talk much of those things. Sure but I think they went to blow and cart on the workadays, and built those things you talk on upon the holidays, or else it could never be.  Acu. 
No, no. They suffered no kind of lighter works to be done in those days, much less such painful labours as they were.  Rust. 
Why were the Saints days kept holy at all? Tell me some reason for it.  Acu. 
They did in those days give great honour to such as suffered death for Christian religion, although the men were as poor as Christ's fishermen. And therefore the days of their martyrdom they kept holy, and came to Church to glorify and praise that God, for whom those Saints died, there were people exhorted to do the like.  Rust. 
But I mislike the very ground, and cause of those holidays which (you say) is suffering death willingly. Do not we die fast enough (think you) against our wills, but we must set up a trade of dying with a good will?  Acu. 
Thou speakest against reason. For if thou must needs die, first, or last, wert not better to die for a glorious cause, so to be sure of heaven, & willingly in perfect memory, then against thy will wrestling with death, & overcome in the end with great pain, and perhaps past thy senses.  Rust. 
Reason me no reasons. I speak as I think, I protest from my heart I had rather do any work in the world then die. What? never come home again to my wife, and my pretty barns? Why, I have a boy, his name is Jack; he has a face as well-favoured as any great turnip root, with a crack in the midst, which is the very proportion of his mouth. I will not willingly leave that boy for all the deaths in the world. No I will not. But if I must needs die whether I will or no, I wood have death take me asleep, that I may not see his face, for if I did I would run away as hard as ever I could for my life.  Hor. 
Mr Acuto talk with me, he speaks like a fool. I have more wit than twenty such loggerheads.  Rust. 
Nay, than I have more wit than thou canst get: for I can make my horses turn up the ground, and thou must do it with thy hands and feet, else thou canst earn no money. Come neighbour Vulcano, we two wise men will leave these two to play the fools here until our turn come again.  Exeunt Rust. & Vul. Hor. 
Now Acuto, let us two conclude what shall become of these holidays, and as we agree, I warrant it shall go. And thou hast almost persuaded me to let them stand. But let us go and read a book I have at home of the lives of Saints to furnish us with stronger reasons against our next encounter with these Dunces, and then we will end this controversy.  Exeunt. Secu. 
How think you by this S. Hermito? would you have imagined that such plain fellows as these be, should call a business of this nature in question? By this you may may guess what stirring heads we have to deal withal, and how easy a matter to keep them in order.  Her. 
It is somewhat strange. And the more unlearned the men are, the harder to be satisfied. But he hope is, that as mad men do best service when some of their like are most unruly, so these men being alike unskilful will soon confound each other, and so give over the business.   

ACT. II.  
SCEN. II.  Enter Antonio at one door. Proberio and Simplo at another. 
It is not unknown to me that very many do censure my deeds as wicked and not beseeming a Christian. But this is the iniquity of the time, because they do not distinguish between persons and seasons. For my actions being not ordinary, are not to be judged by ordinary, but refined wits. For now your down right dealing is exploded, as too subject to every mean capacity.  Pro. 
Yonder is thy master that shallbe (Simplo) thou shalt lose no time, we'll to him suddenly. signior Antonio. All hail to your person. Here is a man desires to serve you; to be your pupil; to imitate your actions so near as his vessel can hold the print. And he will do well. For he is made all of wax, very pliant, empty of all things, but a little money and a tenement or two of land lying next your freehold on the south side, worth 10l per annum.  Ant. 
He is welcome. Have you given him any principles, such as you know are necessary? and is he docible?  Pro. 
He is ready for your hand Sir. I will not commit such an error (knowing you as I do) but lay the foundation. You may work upon him as you list I warrant you.  Simp. 
Sir I hope you shall find me diligent, and according to your heart.  Ant. 
Thou hast a good stern countenance, I like thee well: if thy mind be as untoward it will be suitable.  Simp. 
I warrant you Sir, no man shall get any thing of me, but I will know how he comes by it, except yourself, whom I will trust withal I have. Deal with me as you please.  Ant. 
I thank you. Nay, if I deal not well with you, I wish no man should deal ill with me. I hear you have land lying near me, I would have you be a good husband, and keep it. Let me lay up your writings safe lest some deceive you of them.  Simp. 
That you shall Sir, here they be. They shall be in pawn to you for my good behaviour: for I think no man will give his word for me.  Ant. 
Thou art the fittest man for me that ever I met withal: nor any man (I think) will undertake I shall be a good master to thee.  Simp. 
'tis no matter sir, I will stand to your gentleness.  Ant. 
Well said: and I'll even deal with thee thereafter.  Exeunt Ant. and Simp. Pro. 
Thou hast a service a dog would not have it, except his tail were already so short cut to his breech that no more could be spared. I warrant thou turn seen the last of thy writings. They will pull thy land after them. And that's but law.  Transit terra cum onere. Exit. Pro. Enter Hortano and Acuto. 
Is it true that you told me (Acuto) at our last parley here that there were such valiant people in times past that willingly and cheerfully went to their death when they might have enjoyed life longer.  Acu. 
There is no question of it except we should discredit all Historiographers, who make honourable mention of them in all ages before us. And in our own time and memory there have been many such men.  Hort. 
I protest it is a wonderful courage these people have, and in mine opinion far beyond the stoutness of the soldiers. For they go to kill and contend, not meaning to die, which only they strive against, and avoid by all means they can, and provide above all things to be well armed for safety of life. But the martyr with not resisting, conquers death, and fears not that which is feared and shunned of all others. Therefore I think them worthy of great honour and perpetual memory. But who are they (say you) that give testimony of them? me thought it was a very fine word.  Acu. 
They be Historiographers.  Hor. 
O Histornoggerfers. a brave word. I'll make a knot of these letters.  Acu. 
No, Historiographers man.  Hor. 
Now I have it Histriagerfers.  Acu. 
Not so neither: you must mark well, & pronounce it just as I do.  Hor. 
That I will be sure to do.  Acu. 
Thus then. Hi-sto-ri.  Hor. 
Stay there. Now gape (he gapes & Hortano looks in his mouth) let's tell, how many teeth ha' you? 22. hough, who's within there? a pair of pincers.  Acu. 
What to do?  Hor. 
Why to pull two teeth out a your mouth for I ha' but just 20.  Acu. 
And what of that?  Hor. 
marry because you'll ha' me say it just as you do, & that I cannot except you & I have the like number of teeth. ay, and I'll measure your tongue, that if it be longer than mine it may be cut even: for it is my duty being a gardener, to do all by line and level.  Acu. 
That's no matter: so that you utter the syllables full as I do.  Hor. 
Yes I make no question, though I lack a few teeth but I can swallow a syllabub as full as you.  Acu. 
A syllabub. I did not speak of a syllabub.  Hor. 
No? that you did. I'll be judged by all this company.  Acu. 
No such matter. I said you must observe every syllable.  Hor. 
Go too then. I wool: up with it once again.  Acu. 
Canst thou tell what a syllable is?  Hor. 
No, not I more than my dog.  Acu. 
How wilt thou observe them then if thou know not a syllable?  Hor. 
Let me alone for that: I'll make a shift. Do you say the word, and if there be ere a one there, I'll find him I warrant you.  Acu. 
Ere a one there man? why the word is framed of many syllables.  Hor. 
Very well: how should I miss them then? turn me lose. I'll take it as soon as it peeps out of thy mouth as parats do bread and butter.  Acu. 
Come then mark well, His-to-ri-o-gra-phers.  Hor. 
I'll lay ten pound to nothing, I'll not miss a straw's breadth, Historiographers.  Acu. 
That's right indeed.  Hor. 
la, did not I tell you so? Nay you never had an apter scholar in your life than I am: 'twool do you good to teach me.  Acu. 
I am glad of it: this was soon learned indeed: now put together, and speak it short as I did.  Hor. 
I will: but you need not doubt that it's safe, & will never be lost. But to satisfy you I'll do it, and that quickly, Histor-cockafurrs.  Acu. 
Who: the longer the worse.  Hor. 
This is your fault: that wood ha' me say it so fast: & 'tis a very scurvy word to hit, except a man have a mouth made thereafter.  Acu. 
I think you are fasting today, and that hinders your speech: go play and fill your belly▪ and we'll at it again soon.  Hor. 
Thanks gentle Master: and the next time you teach me, we'll do it very closely an't please you. For I do not mean to be very lavish of my learning, when it shall be at the biggest in no company but yours.  Acu. 
So do all cunning folks: be dainty of your skill, or else you shall never be entreated at first, nor thanked at last.   

ACT. II.  
SCEN. III.  Enter Vulcano and Rustico. 
Hortano: you have been a great while prating with that pricking fellow and make no reckoning of my neighbour Rustico and me. Belike you think to engross the honour of the whole business to yourselves. But I tell you plainly, if you have termined to put the Holidays down you shall not cozen us so: for it shall be well known that I helped to knock 'em down as much as any man in the parish: and that I gave the hottest stroke about it.  Hor. 
Sir you are much mistaken. The tailor is an honest man, and a true man, (although it be impossible) and we are fully agreed they shall stand, & be kept as holy as they were the last year.  Vul. 
Are you so Sir? you are but a treacherous fellow for your labour, and a coward too: for I warrant thou hadst rather be at a good dinner then a battle: were not we two worthy to be of the council? Well; I'll be even with thee for this trick. I'll swear, I'll not say a prayer this twelvemonth upon any holiday that shall do any living creature good.  Hor. 
What a villain is this? than thou wilt not pray for thyself?  Vul. 
No, goodman woodcock? as though I were a living creature.  Hor. 
Yes; a man would think so; art thou not?  Vul. 
No that I am not. And I'll prove it by an argument, and a sluttegim too. I tell thee, I can chop Logic an I list. I can prove thee an Ass, or any such horn beast with a trice I learned it at Sturbridge fair, the while I was selling hobnails: there was such argenication among the scholars there, whether my nag which I gelt the year before were now a horse or no. It set 'em all one such a froth with spouting one against the tother, that some of the slaver lighted on my face, and yet I had my nag between them and me for fear they would fight, and pull me under their feet. But an they had fought I never meant to part 'em. To be short: with gaping upon them, I swallowed so much Logic as will serve me the longest day of my life. And now I'll practise upon thee to prove myself no living creature.  Hor. 
What a goose art thou? Is it possible thou canst speak, and yet be no living creature? prove this and prove anything.  Vul. 
I will prove this; and I will prove any thing by Logic: what a maim it is for a man to be ignorant of the virtue and power of Logic. I pity thee, and all such as be unlearned like thyself. Why man: I will prove by Logic that he which was the last year and yet lives, is not.  Hor. 
That were strange. How? He that was the last year and yet lives, is not. I cannot devise how this should be: for if he live, how can he choose but have a being?  Vul. 
Now it shall appear how short you are with want of Logic. But I'll teach thee a little. He that was the last year (yea and the last week) an honest man, and yet lives, is not now an honest man.  Hor. 
This may be. For I have heard an old saying (and I think it be true) that a man may as soon depart with his honesty, as with any thing he hath.  Vul. 
So then. Dost not thou think now, that I am as well able to prove myself no living creature?  Hor. 
I promise you I am in some doubt of it now: go on.  Vul. 
Every living creature loves some other creature. But I love no other creature. Ergo I am no living creature. Now Hortano take all the herbs of thy garden & still their water to powder, thou canst never wash out the strength of this argument. I make it just as they did theirs at Cambridge about my nag. I remember the words, and shall do as long as my nag lives. For one of them spouted thus. Every horse hath stones: but this beast hath no stones; Ergo he is no horse. And I clapped him on the back and told him that he spoke truth. For I gelt him the last year, and eat his stones to my breakfast. But I had like to have marred all by saying so. For there was a nimble-headed Scholar that stood by, (and yet had nothing to do with the question) went about to prove me a horse, and thus he began. Every living beast, or Animal, that hath in him horse stones, is a horse. But this Animal, (meaning me) hath horse stones in him, Ergo he is a horse. I was stricken in such a maze (knowing that I did eat the horse stones) that I was like to sink where I stood, and even presently to congeal into a horse. But there was by chance an honest Scholar by, who saw my colour quite gone, took pity on me, and bade me be of good cheer, I should not be a horse. And told the other to his face, that there was a fallacy in his argument. And then fetched him about with a Recumbentibus, and proved that the horse stones which I had eaten, were consumed, and became such stuff as I cannot tell you without Sir reverence of your teeth; and that they did not grow in me as they do in horses: Ergo the case was altered. Then upon this point of growing, and not growing, there was such a stir, that all the horse-coursers in the Fair came about us. One said they did grow, another denied it, and such part taking on both sides, that in the end I was content (being desirous to make them friends) to be searched in the open market, and so was cleared before them all to have no more stones than I should have. And glad was I that I was not a horse. Had not I (think you good cause to remember Logic? Yes, I shall never forget it if I should live 100 years.  Hor. 
Go to then: if you be such a scholar I will not dispute with you about the Holy days, but my neighbour Acuto hath been a scholar as well as you, and he is able to show you many reasons why they ought to continue. And he hath fully converted me.  Vul. 
I will not be judged by Acuto, nor by a better man than he. Why, I tell you my neighbour Rustico and I, think ourselves as good men as Acuto and you, and we are two to two. we'll never yield while the Blow and chains hold, and that willbe a good long time; for as fast as they wear, I can mend them.  Acu. 
Will you refer it then to judgement of indifferent men? we are all neighbours, let us not fall out about things that none of us have skill in.  Rust. 
Yes, we'll be judged, but not by any brave people; for they will all take part with the Tailor that makes their 'parel gaudy, and with the Gardener that makes them pleasant walks and knots.  Acu. 
we'll give you the choice, so that you name none of your own trade, and an indifferent man.  Rust. 
You say honestly, Nay truly we are desirous to have an end of it, so that none of us be his own carver. Here sits a country Gentleman, a plain man, a good housekeeper, and peacemaker among all his neighbours: he is no justice of peace, so there is no fear to speak our mind before him, nor need we any minerator to him, he is very courteous.  Acu. 
we'll not refuse him, nor any that is honest.  Rust. 
God save you Sir. Here is a great controversy between four neighbours, two against two. Reasons are alleged on both sides, and neither part will agree to other. In the end we accorded to refer the matter to you, we beseech you to consider, and order it as you please, and then so shall it be.  Secu. 
The controversy is beyond my skill, it being matter of divinity; but mine opinion is, they ought still to be kept. For I persuade myself, that our Ancestors (which did all things well) had special reasons for these days to be kept holy. What their reasons were, I take not upon me to set down: there sits a Religious man, he is more like to quench your thirst, and resolve your doubts then I am.  Vul. 
Most Reverend Sir, though we be strangers to you, we are bold to ask your counsel in a business of weight.  Her. 
You are welcome whosoever you are: no marvel though you be strangers to me, who have estranged myself from all the world: but what counsel can you expect from me, who am not like to give worldly men any satisfaction, since I have already given the world with all his business an utter farewell.  Acu. 
Sir, our business is not worldly, though it concern worldly men, even as your life is not worldlike, though bodily you live on earth.  Vul. 
Nay M. Acuto, stand aside, or I'll have you taken away, for you mar the paly, you are very forward to take the tale out of my mouth, as if you had more wit, but I think not so. I began first to speak unto this man, therefore I will have the last word. Sir, our business with you shallbe short, for I am a hot fellow, and I strike thick and short. This tailor takes long and wide stitches, and draws out the time to make his work seem much. Our difference is for the holidays as they stand in the Calendar, whether it were fitter they should be returned into working-days as they were at the first, or remain to the world's end. If you judge they ought to stand, we are content, and will work harder at other times. If you will have them down, do but say the word, & hold up your finger, we'll maul us to the ground at a blow.  Her. 
Your question is not hard to decide, & fit enough for me to deliver mine opinion in. It is true, they were all working days at the first. For which purpose it is said, such work as thou dost, work it in those six days, and not on the seventh day. Yet God did never forbid any of those six days to be kept holy. And the Christian Church hath appointed many days to be kept holy in memory of Saints which suffered divers torments for Christ's sake, who suffered all for them, and for them all. And those to be kept to the world's end, that their facts and fame might never die, but encourage others to tread their bloody but Heavenly steps. Therefore since the Church of God and custom of Christian countries have so ordered it, let no man's private rashness presume such alteration, as to make away or put out the holidays, but with due reverence to observe them.  Vul. 
God's blessing on you Sir, you have quite confiscated my conceit. I'll kill him that would have them down. Such a sermon every day would make me keep all the rest of the week holy. go neighbour Rustico, you and I will hang together, and change together. I'll never meddle with any matter out of the length and breadth of my Anvil, fall back, fall edge while I breath. methinks I am good enough with this little teaching, I shall never need to mend hereafter. I could find in my heart to go to hanging presently, and be a martyr, if I might have no time to think of the pain, but go alive to Heaven.  They all make obeisance to the Hermit, and turn aside. Acu. 
I told you so much before, you never needed to have troubled the good man.  Vul. 
Thou told me so? what care I for thy telling? If thou told me my father were dead (though I knew he be buried) I will not believe thee. And yet I would not for forty pound he were alive again. This is a grave man, and his very countenance speaks truth. talk no more o't, I am quite dissolved they shall stand fast: and I'll keep them very devoutly. And I'll persuade all the Parish to do the like.  Acu. 
Thou teach all the Parish. Wilt thou turn preacher?  Vul. 
No preacher Sir, but I hope all the Parish comes to my shop for one thing or other. And cannot I then give 'em part of my talent as well as the Cobblers are wont to do, and I am sure it will become me as handsomely as them.  Execunt Vul. Acut. Rust. Hort.  

ACT. II.  
SCEN. IV.  Enter Antonio, Simplo. 
Go Simplo to Mistress Sylvester in Sheerlane, desire her to lend me a pair of sheets, a pillowbier, half a dozen of napkins, and a towel.  Simp. 
I will Sir, (he steps forward, and suddenly stops )but now I remember me Proberio told me you have linen enough of your own.  Anto. 
He was the more fool to tell you so; but you must not use to cross me thus. Do as you are bidden. Will not our own last the longer if we wear of other folks sometimes? when we have gone through all our friends so often that none will lend us, then 'tis time enough to wear our own.  Simp. 
I understand the conceit now. I'll tell her you lost your key.  Anto. 
Best of all. Do so. I perceive thou needest no broker.  Simp. 
No Sir, no; such a tutor as you will serve turn well enough.  Exit Simplo. Enter Proberio. Anto. 
Friend Proberio .You come in good time. I was beholding to you in my greatest necessity: And I purpose to requite all your deserts. At this present an accident is fallen, which will be beneficial to you with a little diligence had. A messenger of mine received a hundredth pound by my direction from a scrivener in this town, and ran away with it into Ireland, find him out, and get the hundredth pound, I give it you.  Prob. 
I thank you Sir, but it is a thousand to one I shall never find him; and if I do, I know not the man, and the money perhaps spent.  Anto. 
If this fail I'll give you another as beneficial as it.  Pro. 
That's easily done. For I think this is little worth.  Anto. 
I have an employment for you, one Sir Retlaw, & Master Eloc, his father-in-law are bound with me in divers bonds, I for them, and they for me. The whole sum is a thousand pound, the greater part they are to pay. I have their counter-bonds for all. What they have for my debt I know not. I would have you be perfect in the accounts as they stand in my book, and then demand of them a reckoning between us.  Pro. 
Well Sir, this shall be done with effect.  Exit Prob. Enter Simplo. 
Sir I have brought the linen, she lent it willingly. So I saved the lie; she desires you to sup with her tonight.  Anto. 
Ha, sup there? with all my heart. But how shall I do with my two eggs at home? they will be too stale, remember soon to carry them to the alehouse, but measure them well in your hand with griping.  Simp. 
I will Sir. I would desire your counsel in a matter concerns myself. One Frith, a neighbour of yours desires to buy my land, whereof you have the writings, and will give me more than 'tis worth. What will you advise met to do?  Anto. 
I think it not amiss to take his money, and put it out to use, and therein I can pleasure you. My scrivener shall do it as for me, and he will get good men for your money.  Simp. 
I thank you Sir: then I will absolutely bargain with him, and send him to you for the writings.  Anto. 
Do so: but be not long: for I have business instantly for you.  Exit Simplo. 
What an Ass is this? doth he think I will let any man buy a thing so near my nose, but I will lay hold of it with my teeth? I will have his land do what he can. And I will have it one 40l the cheaper for this trick, that he will offer to sell it from me. He thinks belike to make a porter of me to carry his writings from Lawyer to Lawyer; but if I be, I willbe well paid for my pains. I have a device in my head, which I will extend to the uttermost, seeing he puts me to it. Trust? there's a trust with all my heart to serve other men's turns. No, I never loved that. I remember to have learned that charity begins with itself. And a Cook licks his own fingers before he dishes the meat for others. Do they not know what it is to get writings out of my hands? It seems they never entered bond to me. If they had, they would not presume thus. If nothing else would serve to hold them, yet this I can allege, that they are my security for his good behaviour (although I care not six pence for any security, because I never mean to trust him for a crowns worth of any thing. And I have all you to witness, that for his good behaviour he pawned them to me.  Enter Frith. 
I am glad to meet you here Sir, your man and I have bargained for his land not far from me, but very near you.  Anto. 
Welcome neighbour Frith. Let me speak with you aside. Take heed what you do. His title is nought, else I would have had it myself, and you know it lies fit for me. But let him not know I said so.  Frith. 
I were much to blame if I should Sir: no, I warrant you. I thank you for this caveat. I might soon have lost my money so.  Enter Simplo. Anto. 
Stay awhile, you shall hear more to his face. Come hither Simplo. This honest man tells me, he is in speech with you about your land, and I was content to let you run on your course. But do you forget that it is pawned to me for your good behaviour?  Simp. 
Sir, such a thing there was. But my hope is you will not be my hindrance.  Anto. 
Your hindrance. No; but if this be true (as you cannot deny it) have you not forfeited your land and writings by your evil behaviour, offering to sell it to a stranger and not to me?  Frith. 
That's a plain case Sir. I'll not meddle with his land, nor any of my neighbours shall, for I will tell them all: Nay, I may say to you Sir, I am told he hath no good title to it.  Anto. 
Were you told so? Well, farewell neighbour Frith. Exit Frith .How now Simplo. To keep your land, no man will be your Tenant? and to sell it, who will deal with you? Did you not hear him say it is reported you have no good title? Well; in hope you will do me true service, I will help you out of these briars. Tell me true. What should he have given for your land?  Simp. 
Indeed Sir he should have paid me 150l. And if you help me not I am undone.  Anto. 
It had been worth 150l .if it had not been thus disgraced, but now 'tis worth little. Well, if I give you 100l. for it, what will you say?  Simp. 
If you will give me 100l. for it, I shall think myself much bound to you while I live. And so I doubt not but you will keep the land safe. For the title was as good as could be until you had my writings. It may be they took wet in the last great rain, and so they did shrink.  Anto. 
I will give thee 100l. And no rain will shrink the money: the Sun will do it most hurt: for it will melt very fast.  Simp. 
You know how to keep it from melting better than I. Let me entreat you to order it as your own.  Anto. 
I will give thee my credit for that.  Exeunt Anto. Secu. 
It is much to be feared that this greedy griper will utterly spoil this poor man both of money and land, his mind is altogether upon deceit and ruin of others. 'tis pity any honest body should have to do with him that studieth nothing but mischief.  Her. 
I am sorry to see so much wickedness in one man as appears in him, he is able to infect a whole country. And it were a happy thing if he were banished the commerce of all Christians.    

ACT. III.  

SCENA. I.  Enter Sperato with hawk and spaniels. Spurco with hounds and Gulato. 
Of all the music in the world there is none like to that which is found in hawking. For, the questing of Spaniels, the spring of partridges, the jingling of Hawks bells, and thundering of horse heels is the best consort, and pleaseth me above all delights.  Spur. 
Your Comparison is too general. Had you excepted hunting I might have joined hands with you against all others, but now I am become your adversary. For it is confessed of all sorts, that the music in hunting, both for continuance of the sport. for a delightful exercise contenting the ear, and gentlemen-like pastime the world cannot compare with us, and so we hunters carry the Bell away.  Sper. 
Indeed you hunter carry the Bell, but not for any good doing, no more than you do by carrying the horn to very man's house. What time and order your hounds observe with their natural harmony, I will not dispute (they and their keepers being seldom in order) but of this I am sure, that there are few kennels of hounds in England, but while some are in chase after Hare, or Fox, others are killing sheep in full cry of the poor harmless beast: whereupon is grown that proverb. The Fox kills the lambs, and the hounds the old sheep. But I cannot endure you should challenge hunting to suit better with a gentleman then hawking. Every Clown can keep a dog, and the more carrion he eateth the more egregiously he smelleth: but the hawk adorneth a king's fist, besides the admirable conquest the falconer maketh in a hawks nature, bringing the wild Haggard having all the earth & seas to scour over uncontrollable, to attend and obey her keeper so, that at his very voice she turns towards and stoops to his glove. Hounds are so prejudicial to the commonwealth, that I dare undertake to prove, that (next unto drunkards) they are the greatest spoilers of poor men's bread.  Gula. 
I like all well enough but the last words of yours (Sperto) for methinks it is as good sport to hear the Falconer and the Hunter fall out, as for thieves to appeach one another. Good fellows take their liquour quietly without any of these faults, and help to hold up tillage by the swift utterance of the surmounting grain.  Spe. 
The immoderate and excessive disorder in drinking, and more than swinish swallowing, that neither belly nor head can contain, but must recoil by the way it entered in, is the most pernicious inconvenience that this kingdom suffereth.  Gula. 
Your invective against good companions (for so I must needs call them that love drink) is to be refelled rather with a cudgel, then with reason. When had you any gallant Captain, or man of resolution but would drink health after health, until themself were past health and help?  

Who was more valiant than Captain Shinke?  
Yet moor than he, who loved drink?   Spe. 
Like matter, like patron was his valour in his drink? or was he best able to perform a noble exploit, when his legs failed his giddy head:  

No, he was ever like a Swine,  
When strength of drink closed his eyen.   Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. III.  
SCEN. II.  Enter Insatiato with his page Infaelicto. 
Boy, a pipe of tobacco What is it o'clock?  Infae. 
It is almost eleven.  Insati. 
I doubt it be no more indeed. I am so sleepy still: go see if Monsieur Parvagracio be stirring. Exit Infael I am very melancholic this morning whatsoever I ail. I care not if I send for my Physician: or whether the cause be that I lost all my money yesternight, and now know not where to get more until I have conferred with my Agent for discommodities, nor where to dine scotfree in the mean time.  Enter Infaelicto. Infael. 
Sir, he was asleep when I came to his chamber, but his page waked him. He remembers his love, and desires you to beat his chamber an hour hence, than his Barber comes, as he does every Sunday instead of prayers. He charged me to tell you that he hath an ounce of the most transcendent tobacco that ever crossed the salts, sent him by a Lady of his secret knowledge and yours, with whom you both must dine this day. The property of this tobacco is to yield a porringer full of Rheum every pipeful: and procure ventosity conveniently to descend very odoriferous, and secure from audibility. She reserves store of it for her own special use in times of necessity, as of attendance in Court, hearing of Plays, sitting at Cards, and the like. Further, that a little of it taken pill-fashion, will diffuse and disperse mixion, so that a Lady may abide in company forty eight hours, not disposed to evaporation. Besides he willed me to tell you, that this Lady yesterday hath received a book from a friend of hers that went over with Sir Robert Shirley into Persia, entitled de flatibus separandis ac dividendis, cosque emittendis; not forward at the face as gamers use to do in wars, but arere, as Jackanapes delivers squibs, written by a learned Physician doctorated by the magnificent order of the Mountebanks there, she will anon at dinner entreat you two to lay your heads together for translating this book into English. And where you find any sent worth the nosing, you will make stops upon it, and deliver your opinion by way of comment for the better undertaking the fence, with the particular causes and effects of every several and distinct fume produced thereby. And hereafter at better leisure she will have the subject of the whole book Anatomatized by her own Surgeon, and set forth in due proportion and colours, and give it a convenient room in her gallery.  Insat. 
This is good news; shall we dine there? and snuff this dainty tobacco? that's excellent. here's a shilling to drink (he feels in his pocket, and finding no money there, saith )go too, 'tis no matter now: the next time I have a good hand a dice I'll give thee two shillings. Why now I feel myself well again. Go boy, tell my Physician he shall not need to come. (Infaelicto is going. )Stay, I have not sent for him now I remember me.  Exeunt.  

ACT. III.  
SCENA III.  Enter Antonio Proberio and Simplo. 
Have you done my business (Proberio) with the Knight and his son-in-law?  Pro. 
I have cast up these accounts exactly, and your share is to pay 200l, and no more. I have often visited them, and put them to such a plunge as you never saw: for they say you ought to pay 400l. and yet they cannot avoid but they must pay 800l. They have lost their notes, their servants be changed: and they are so puzzled as you never knew men: they desire respite a week. I gave it them, and so it rests.  Anto. 
Ha, ha, he. And did the fat Knight fret so? let him fry too. I will stick close to my counterbands.  Pro. 
Sir I thought good to put you in mind of one thing. You have my bonds of eight or nine score pounds in your hands, discharged ten years since, I pray you let me have them up.  Anto. 
O, take no care, they shall never hurt you.  Pro. 
But I wish I had them up, we are all mortal.  Anto. 
The next time, I light on them I will cancel them.  
Simplo go you to Mistress Boe, desire her to lend me half a dozen eggs until market day, look you choose the fairest. Exit Simplo .Proberio, I would fain do somewhat for you. A friend of mine wants a good Steward, I will help you with the place: or there is a widow worth 400l. I think I can make the march for you.  Pro. 
I thank you Sir, either of them I will accept. (he turns to the people. )This is like his 100l. offer which his messenger ran away withal. It will come to nothing; but now I know he hath some business for me.  Ant. 
I would fain have your opinion in a bargain of land I have made with one Pohssib, to the value of 7000l. drawn into articles with both our hands to it. The chief motive of our bargain is a marriage between two young children. I pray you calculate whether the bargain be gainful or no.  Pro. 
If you have bargained already, it is too late for me to deliver my opinion.  Anto. 
Not a whit too late. There is nothing done but the land assured to me, and 3000l. of money paid. If I find It not fit for me, I'll rend the bargain all to shivers. What? two words to a bargain.  Pro. 
Why. I know you can do it if you list, you can play fast and lose as well as any man. Well, you shall soon know how I like it.  Exit. Anto. 
I never finished any bargain yet, nor do I mean this shallbe the first.  Redit Simplo. 
Go to the Lawyer, and ask if the writings be ready for your land, that you may receive your 100ˡ. Exit Simplo. I have a couple of followers most unfit for my humour. Proberio is so full of scrupulosity, that nothing passes his fingers that savours not of conscience. Such a man would I deal withal, but not dwell withal. Such a man would I have deal with me, but not deal for me. Simplo, he is diligent, but alas his brains want salt.  Redit Simplo. Sim. 
Sir, the writings are done, when you please I am ready to seal. I think the Lawyer is a very honest man, he hath made them reasonable methinks: for I am but to warrant it from all men, I have nothing to do with women.  Anto. 
It is well. we will go presently. But I must stay until Proberio come: for I do not well know where I am until he have done a business of mine.  Sim. 
Sir I met him in Chancery Lane, he promised to be here before me, but I made great haste to tell you the writings were ready. I would so fain be a sealing. I am wonderfully fallen out with my land.  Enter Proberio. Pro. 
Sir, the bargain with Master Pohssib is the worst that ever was made: for if he or his wife do live 30 years, (as by probability they will) you lose 17000l. by the bargain at least. And if they die sooner, you shall save little. Therefore my advice is, that either you buy it absolutely for ready money, or yield it back with reasonable consideration for your money lent, so shall you be free from exclamations.  Anto. 
I thought so, I warrant thou art as fearful of exclamations, as of thunderbolts: there is nothing with you but exclamations, imputations, infamy, reports, discredit, and the like. A rush, a rush, and they are all one to me. Well, I thank you for your pains. Now ply the Knight & his Father-in-law about the 1000l. account.  Pro. 
I will. (he turns to the people )then until the next need I am cashiered.  Exit Prob. Anto. et Simplo. Secu. 
What is your opinion sir Hermito of this man's disposition?  Her. 
Alas, I could wish the poor man would consider better of his soul's state. He seemeth to have a great wit, which he bendeth wholly to gather worldly wealth, not regarding how he gets it. We that have put riches in the last place of our care, or rather fly from them as pernicious do indeed, condemn for folly all the carking and study to increase our own hurts as they will prove to be, especially gotten by indirect means.  Secu. 
Do you call him poor, who is reckoned very rich, and full of money to put out for gain? such men are nowadays highly esteemed, much sued unto, and among their praises that is chief, that he excelleth others in money at use. And in the country among plain fellows it is a special mark or token that he is a good man (as they call him) if he have 100l. or tow at use, and without that he is not counted sound, or out of debt.  Her. 
More is the pity. It was wont to be a thing odious among Christians, and used by none but Jews. And therefore we call such men poor, as being needy of goodness and grace, have they never so great abundance so gotten as they make their owners beggarly for grace.   

ACT. III.  
SCEN. IV.  Enter Insatiato. 
'tis a marvelous toil and trouble that we courtiers are put to, and little considered by the world abroad: for it is commonly midnight before we can be showed our chambers. There we lie like dead persons until next day at noon. All this while nobody comes at us, nor provides us any supping, nor so much as moans us. Then are we forced to rise for stark hunger. Thus tied to our dinner till two of the clock: from that time until four, we must not stir from our seat, one discourse after another holds us fast. Then go we on visitation from chamber to chamber: and before we know perfectly how every one had their health since yesternight, and exchanged our complemental terms, the clock strikes seven. Then duty calls us to Court our most respected and perfumed Mistress, whereof we are not discharged till nine. Now supper bids every one repair to his mess, which commonly continueth no longer than ten. And so after a crash of two hours in play, we are driven every one to his kennel at midnight, as I said before. And this miserable life we lead, and yet are we envied to have all the pleasures in the world. But I think no wise man will so judge if he felt that we know.  Exit. Enter Gulato and Sperato. 
Master Sperato. I have much desired to debate with you the matter of drinking, and necessity thereof, because at our last meeting here you were so bitter in speech as if wormwood had been all night steeped in your stomach. Therefore I sent for you once again to try if I can persuade you to recantation of your error.  Sper. 
That you may easily do Gulato. For if singing the same song over again may pleasure you, I can do it with much addition of voluntary.  Gula. 
Is it even so? than I see thou want'st breeding, that art ingrateful for a kindness offered; and ignorant, not sensible of the salutiferous operation of well brewed Ale: which for thy edification, I will manifest and demonstrate by a very familiar and apt similitude: and within the circumference of thy feeble comprehension, whereunto I will now accommodate my whole oration.  Spe. 
You are grown very eloquent of late. I think the Ale hath oiled your tongue.  Gula. 
Why, thou art in the right. I tell thee I am at this instant so inflamed with the spirit of malt, and my wits so refined with the manifold reverberations, and continual posting correspondence between the residence of that liquour in my stomach, and the quintessential receipt in my head, that no particle of time passeth, but whole streams of exsufflations, and insufflations ascend to the brains, and there work wonders. By reason whereof it were not hard for me to furnish Rider himself with 2000 new words not yet seen in his Dictionary. I could turn Astronomer, and give names to any stars that want. I can pass for a Physician among many fools, and kill as many as the best Doctor of them all. Finally, what would I not undertake as now I am armed? But to return to my druggical similitude, from which thy waywardness hath diverted me.  Spe. 
Nay, let that alone until another time. I understand already as much as I need for that matter: I must be gone.  Gula. 
You shall stay to hear it; and let me have your judgement, whether I might not with a little reading prove a perfect urinalist.  Spe. 
You are so troublesome when you fall into this case that I cannot skill of your company.  Gula. 
I tell thee 'tis the best Physic that ever thou hadst.  Spe. 
I believe it beforehand. What need you more?  Enter Spurco and Insatiato. Gula. 
O Master Spurco, you are welcome: speak your mind freely: do not you think it better to sit merrily a whole winter's day, and most part of the night by a good fire, and command (like men of authority) the Tapster to fill us an Ocean of drink if we lift, and there among good fellows to hear more news than all the world knows to be true, than to toil and trash in the dirt without conversation, seldom coming near one another as Hunters do.  Spur. 
No certainly. I hold it a beastly thing to sit besealing upon a bench, and suck in drink, as pigs do dregs in a trough: which custom although some base huntsmen, and Falconers use, yet if I did think that Hunting were as odious and displeasing to God as drunkenness is, I would soon dispatch my dogs.  Insat. 
And I will free the Court from the foul & loathsome custom of drunkenness. For seldom and with very few it is used there. Officers, and order forbids it as unseemly for a PRINCE's palace. I wish we were as clear from Idleness, pride, disdain, envy, lechery, covetousness, flattery, lying, cozenage, oppression, and unthriftiness, as we are from drunkenness.  Secu. 
marry Sir, these are vices enough. And except you were guilty of all the deadly sins, and breach of every commandment, I know not what you could add to these.  Her. 
The delights of hunting and hawking, as also of other exercises, were (no doubt) ordained by God to comfort man in his banishment here, and to give him a taste of the unspeakable pleasures in Heaven, (our own country) but the excess and abuse of any pastime, argues the receiver unreasonable, and turns the benefit into detriment.  
Of drunkards I say shortly and sharply; they deprave God's blessings, rob and murder the poor, undo the Commonwealth, bring Gods curse upon the country; deprive themselves of Heaven, and merit Hell.  
The Courtier (who ought to be the square of the country by his civil example) pulls upon himself the ruin of millions, and sinneth much with doing little.  Gula. 
I am crushed in the head: no more drinking; farewell good Ale.  Insa. 
Give me thy hand. we are all in little better case for any thing I hear by the judgement of wise men.  Exeunt.   

ACT. IIII.  

SCEN. I.  Enter Antonio, Proberio, Simplo. 
I have had such a stir with this same beggar Pohssib, his wife, and his friends: and so many complaints they have made to the King and Council, and turn themselves into all shapes and faces to force me either to go through with the bargain or give it over, that divers of my friends are brought to favour his part for stark equity's sake. But do all what they can I will have it, and not have it: I will hold it, and not hold it. And I will none of the purchase, and yet not give it over.  Pro. 
I told you Sir, what an intricate business it would prove to be, and full of slander: therefore I wished you to end it by yielding the bargain back, for that willbe the end of it.  Anto. 
Thou knowest not what willbe the end of it, nor I myself; but I can best guess, because I know his poor estate. I have made a privy search into his debts; and some creditors I have pulled upon him sooner than they meant. And in writing I have every sum he oweth to neighbours, to workmen, and to his very servants. And this is the plummet I sound withal. This must bring the fish into my net Proberio. But what have you done with the Knight and his Father-in-Law Master Eloc, for the 1000l. account?  Pro. 
Sir, that account goes otherwise than you would have it; for they prove that there was 1200l. taken up, and of that you are to pay 400l.  Anto. 
Are you sure of that?  Pro. 
I am so sure, that I am ashamed ever to have spoken in a matter so contrary to good conscience.  Anto. 
You are so spiced-conscienced, that there is no dealing with you. Will you demand if they will swear in Chancery, that so is the account.  Pro. 
That I will do, and I am sure they will not refuse it. (he turns to the people, and saith )this is but to colour his dishonest meaning, he knoweth the truth as well and better than they.  Exit Prob. Anto. 
These fellows are so rash, that a little thing will satisfy them. I am partly persuaded the accounts be as he speaketh, but it is good to be sure. Thus thou must do Simplo in like cases, if thou wilt be a wise, politic and wary fellow.  Simp. 
I hear it well Sir, and have locked it up safely in my memento. I give you many thanks for the 10. you gave me for my land, and for your careful putting out the money as your own. I again for my part have sealed the writings, and am ready to do any thing else for making it sure to you. 'Tis a good hearing that Master and man agree so well as your worship and I do now. Now they say 'tis a good title, and they will not make question of it, since you have gotten it.  Anto. 
No, I think not: for all their babbling they will not easily begin suite with me to recover it away.  Simp. 
Fear nothing of that Sir, I can tell you news. They say now your title to it is as good as any man hath to his land. And that you will keep my 100l. as safe as the land; and that's good for me.  Anto. 
That's no news. You may see now what it is to be circumspect in my dealing, and to have a name to hold fast. Learn this against the time that you have more land.  Exeunt.  

ACT. IIII.  
SCEN. II.  Intrant Rustico et Hortano. 
Did you ever hear (neighbour Hortano) such a broil between man and wife as yonder was between Porco and his wife? you and I did very wisely to come away. For sure they did strive before us for their credit's sake to get the victory of each other by scolding; now we are gone perhaps they will give over. methought it was very noisome to hear such unseemly words pass from married folk.  Hor. 
Sure their bitterness passed the bounds of humanity. They make me afraid of marrying, if such jars fall out between those that be one flesh.  Rust. 
Let it not discourage you more than it repents me that I am married: for it lies in your power to have all well and quiet if you chance to marry even one of the short ribs of the great Devil.  Hor. 
How can that be neighbour Rustico? if you can teach me that, you do much. For I have heard many say, that it is impossible to tame a shrew by any means, except by having no woman at all.  Rust. 
If you talk of taming by violence, you say well, it cannot be, for the more you strive to break their stomach, the more it grows; like camomile, the more you tread it, the more it spreads; and like a tree felled, where will grow 40 springs. But take a twig by the top, and gently bend it by little and little, it will grow in what fashion you will. A wasp is a shrewd stinging beast by nature, but if she light upon your face and hands, and creep up and down, let her alone, and take her pleasure, she will do you no harm, and quietly pass away. So if your wife will meddle with all things, give her liberty to do what she will, you shall have her merry else she were worse than the Devil.  Hor. 
I think this is very likely: but who can endure his wife to do what she listeth at all times?  Rust. 
That can I, and that must you, or else you are not wise; for if you may have peace upon any conditions, is it not your fault if you abuse to be jarring?  Hor. 
But I have heard say, it is better to have honourable wars, then inconvenient peace.  Rust. 
That is among strangers and enemies; but among friends, and with yourself, what peace can be dishonourable?  Hor. 
How comest thou to be so cunning in this kind of argument?  Rust. 
even as you may if you will take the course that I do. I have a wife, the best creature that ever you saw in the order that she takes with me. But if I should be churlish, as perhaps you would be, and cross her never so little, she would rage like a fury of Hell. She speaks, and I give ear; she gives counsel, and I practise; she commands, & I obey; she chides, and I hold my peace; she preaches, and I believe; thus we live as lovingly as Master and Scholar.  Hor. 
But who could abide his wife to teach and control him?  Rust. 
Every man that loves his ease. And if all wives be as mine is, she shallbe thrice happy to obey her. For she is the best woman to bring up husbands that ever was borne. She will so instruct them in the wonderful virtue of patience, that if they willbe ruled by her monitions, they shallbe as good as martyrs, a great deal better than living Saints. I thank her heartily, she is my Pilcatory in this world, I shall go straight to Heaven whensoever I die. Therefore lest I should lose the benefit of the blessed state I stand in by any misdemeanour of mine. I dare not offend her in the least matter. O 'tis a great blessing to have such a wife.  Hor. 
But for all this it should be long before I would choose such a wife, which did desire to carry such a hand over me as she doth over thee.  Rust. 
O neighbour Hortano, that thou didst but taste of the fruits of patience! Intrat Lamia his wife with a cudgel of an ell long, and counterfeiting to be a Puritan, lifting her eyes upward. )Look where my wife is; I know her by the sign of the Bible. See how devout she is. She never looks lightly lower than the Element. You may say what you will now, she cannot hear a word, her meditations be so fervent.  Hor. 
Why doth she carry that cudgel while she is praying?  Rust. 
(She openeth her Bible, and makes show to read, and many times turns her eyes with the white upward. )That is her rod of discipline, and a strange thing it is which now I tell you. She is never so rapt up in her devotions, but if I commit the least fault (as wretched man that I am many times I do, and my best actions are abominable) she perceives it presently (and yet is deaf to all other noise) and she comes to me fiercely in the heat of her charity, and corrects me very handsomely with that wand.  Hor. 
But will she correct her servants with this cudgel?  Rust. 
O no, very seldom, she does not love them so well) except it be a very great fault. But in me (for the entire love she bears me) she will not suffer the least sin unpunished, lest (as she saith) any might remain to be rebuked by hell fire.  Hor. 
But I had rather be her servant, than her husband, if she strike with such twigs.  Rust. 
Had you so? but so had not I. For by this I am made sure of my election, when I do patiently endure so great correction.  Hor. 
How doth she bring up thy son Jack?  Rust. 
Admirably well: for lest he should prove an idolater she will not let him ask blessing upon his knees. And lest he should abate of his mettle and stomach, he must never put off his hat to us, nor be denied any thing he calls for: so that being now but six years old he will fight, scratch, and tumble himself upon the ground, crying until his heart break if he may not have his will in every thing. Then is there no way but give it him, or else he will die with screaming. O, he will prove a man of outrageous spirit. It makes me sometimes doubt he should not be my child, he hath so noble a stomach, far beyond mine. And, but that I know his mother to be a very religious professor, I assure you it would trouble me much, he discovereth so much fury in his fashions, and such might by his madness, that I think many times some giant got him when my wife was asleep, for I am sure she would never suffer it waking.  Hor. 
Nay, nay, if your wife be a woman of that command as you describe her to be, and as she makes show of no less by her part, it may well be, the Boy takes his courage from her, and his outward parsonage from you.  Rust. 
You say well neighbour Hortano, that may be; but I do half mistrust my own worth in getting such a child: but yet I love him as well as if he were my own.  La. 
I came hither to seek a kind of husband that I have. He wants government and discipline (I am sure) ere this time: for I have not seen him these three days past: the poor man willbe undone, if I light not on him shortly.  Rust. 
O, she seeks me. What a good woman is this? I must needs go to her. Stand by neighbour, and note how zealously she will edify me. How do you good wife? I knew it was you so soon as I saw you any thing near me. May I be so bold as to ask where you have been these two or three days? My boy Jack and I think long until you come home.  La. 
Why should you ask so foolish a question? you know that I must frequent my contemplation: in which I cannot be less than two or three days: the fervour of spirit is such among the elect that they may not depart in short time from their meditations, especially having such learned Teachers among us, that are never wearied, and willing to accompany and conduct us in the darkest dangers. O the delights, pleasures, and sweet delectations that we feel during the time of these contemplations, that we think no time contentedly spent but when we are employed in these exercises. I think verily my goodly boy Jack was begotten and conceived in these deep contemplations.  Rust. 
What wife; and I not there?  La. 
Alas man, why should you trouble yourself with these matters which be so far out of your reach? was it not enough if my spirit did wish you present? or that in conceit you were with me? what if you were asleep at that instant, and so it were revealed to me by the spirit? or if you had been present, and my spirit should inwardly testify unto me that a teaching Saint must be preferred, ought not you to give place? I pray you husband give over to muse on these hidden secrets, for otherwise these thoughts may make you horn-mad.  Hor. 
How can you defend that to be lawful to be gotten with child by any but your husband?  Rust. 
Indeed wife I cannot but think this reason good that you say, but I would have been glad to be father to my own child if it had pleased you.  La. 
What do you talk of reason? it is beyond reason. It is matter of predestination, and pre-ordination. Where is now your obedience and patience so often inculked unto you? I perceive it is ready to fly out by your exterior parts, but I will chastise this rebellious flesh, and make it subject to the spirit.  (then she beateth him soundly.) Hor. 
Where learned you to beat your husband?  La. 
It is lawful & possible for me to extract tears from his flinty heart with this rod of discipline, correcting him as the spirit moveth me.  Hor. 
But how shall he know that a good spirit moveth you to correct him?  La. 
That appertains not to him to examine. It is sufficient that his wife hath that inward testimony which enableth and emboldeneth her to do her function, and to minister disciplinary documents. And this he is firmly to hold, or else he loseth his election.  Rust. 
Nay wife; rather than I should not be one of the elect I pray you beat me again.  La. 
You are not to inform me when I shall strike. It is the lively spirit which directeth me: and now it telleth me you need not at this time more to be humbled. Go in peace, and be patient.  Rust. 
O God's blessing on thy kind heart. See how favourable a spirit she hath. I cannot choose but weep for this love.  Then he weeps and howls with hands before his face. La. 
Lo now Hortano the virtue of this rod, which bringeth so plentiful tears from this Rocky stomach of his.  Hor. 
But for all this I see no ground or proof you have, that a wife shall take upon her to teach and correct her husband. You allege Scripture as far as Rome is from Rockingham, and expound it at your pleasure, and frame it to your own fancy: but if I were your husband I would cudgel you well, and by the word maintain it better.  La. 
What not yet understandest thou the text? O fool, and slow of belief! If thou were my husband (Then she shakes the cudgel at him )I would ding it into thy brain in another fashion then by proofs. I pray thee tell me, must not men be taught and instructed?  Hor. 
Yes: but what, shall women do it?  La. 
Who else I pray you? shall beast's do it? Although women may not speak in the Church (which is great pity) yet we may preach in chambers, and men are tied to hear us.  Hor. 
No, nor sluts neither: but men shall instruct men.  La. 
jump. And so woman instruct women, and none of them shall come to other. And how shall there then be procreation of the holy ones, and the Israel of God be multiplied?  Rust. 
Nay neighbour Hortano, I warrant you my wife will prove any thing she saith one way or other. But good wife, let me entreat one thing at your hands (if your spirit consent, that is, that I may call your son Jack my boy for my credit's sake. And that he may know no other but he is mine, and then shall I be quiet in mind, and think you deal very justly and liberally with me.  La. 
With all my heart. And I profess unto you that he shall never know otherwise by me: but I doubt his generous spirit will not suffer him (after a few years of discretion) to tarry long in that error, but that he will heroically disdain to have you otherwise accounted of then his reputed father: and that he is rather the son of some zealous brother, who never sees the Relics of Charing-Cross, but wisheth he were on horseback with a lance in his hand, in full speed to bear it down. And yet his mother extreme honest for all this.  Rust. 
All this I steadfastly believe. And I am afraid my own weakness willbe the first discoverer, and plead not guilty to getting of such a son. Nevertheless (good wife) I cannot choose but thank you much for your kindness, that he shallbe called my son, that men may think so nobly yet of me to do such a deed. And for you wife) I will swear you are a very honest woman for all this.  La. 
No husband. You shall not swear so rashly. I thank you as much as though you did. Your faith shall save you without swearing.  Exit Lamia. Rust. 
Was ever man more blessed with a wife than I am? (Than he holds his hands before his face, & falls to a silent meditation a prery while, at last fetching a great sigh, he saith) The Lord make me thankful. (Than he hides his face with his hands again, and so standeth a while sighing and sobbing, until Hortano shake him by the arm, saying).  Hor. 
How now Rustico, what wilt thou do: kill thyself with this same foolish zeal? pluck up a good heart, and live to see thy boy a man.  Rust. 
A man. He is a man already at six years age by his great stomach; and I think in my conscience I am not half his father. But I beshrew you for troubling me, you have done you know not what: for I was even melting into a martyr.  Hor. 
A martyr. How canst thou be a martyr?  Rust. 
O yes, and I shall die so patiently, that I dare not call for a posset how sick soever I be for fear of sinning, till the very point of death. And now I begin to be heart-sick.  Hor. 
If you find yourself so sick indeed, I wish you to make your will, and dispose of your estate.  Rust. 
How? make my will? that's the next way to die in earnest.  Hor. 
Not a whit nearer death for that.  Rust. 
O yes. A will, and a tolling bell are as present death as God's tokens. No: I'll none of that.  Hor. 
Let me persuade you (neighbour Rustico) to make your will. I assure you it is superstition to think death to be nearer you for that cause.  Rust. 
Superstition. The Lord defend me. I had rather not to observe order in any thing then to be thought superstitious. I agree to you neighbour, and thank you for your gentle persuasion. I will presently do it while I am in perfect memory.  
1 First, for my soul; I will not bequeath it to God, but let it go even as it is predestinated.  
2 My body may be buried if my executor will pay for it, or else let it alone, and be patient, as I was when I lived.  
3 At my burial I desire my wife to preach, and nobody to hear her but my sweet boy Jack and I.  
4 forty shillings I give to any man that shall put me into the book of Martyrs.  
5 My wit, & such like movables I leave as an heirloom to my son Jack (then lifting his eyes upward )upon whom my desire is that the firmament may power down as many joyful lots as there are hears upon his finger's ends; & that his seed may multiply like mice in a maltheap.  
6 All my breeches I bestow upon my beloved wife.  
7 My land (if any be given me after my death) I freely bestow upon him that shall marry her to amend his bargain.  
8 The rest of my goods and chattels which cannot be found I will shall be equally divided (at my executors discretion) among the poor of the parish wheresoever I shall die.  
9 And of this my last will and testament I make the longest siver in London my sole executor, because I will have no fighting, nor suits in law for my goods.  
10 And you neighbour Hortano I make overseer of this my will, and for your pains to be taken therein, I give you all that shall be overplus after execution of the same,  
Now my sight fails. Lead me, lead me good neighbour home: and to bed, and so farewell, and good night.  Exeunt.  

ACT. IIII.  
SCENA III.  Intrant Antonio, Noverindo, & Proberio. 
Here is more work for us Noverindo (and we will not work for simple fees though foedum simplex be a good tenure) a friend of mine wants 2000l and I must have it for him within these two days or he seeks elsewhere.  Nov. 
In any case hold him in, let him not scape, he shall pay for his expedition. I'll about it, and I'll have it for you within 24 hours, or I'll give you my head (he goes forward a little, and suddenly steps back saying )I had almost forgot a matter of weight: you are entreated by the whole company of our sort, that some order may be taken to check the sauciness of divers mean persons that inquire for moneys to be taken up. They make no more ado, but with hats on their heads, ask the question thus: have you 100l to lend upon good security: what a malapertness and abuse is this? Of my honesty Sir. (what a villain was I to swear so deeply?) there be many knights, and some Lords that have not always 100 to lend upon an instant. And then what reason is there, that we which have it at all hours should be so slenderly regarded?  Anto. 
You say well Noverindo: I wish it to be redressed: but what would the company have me to do?  Nov. 
This Sir: you are acquainted at Court: they entreat that you would use your friends to get a grant under the broad seal (whatsoever it cost) that we may erect an office with a master and clarks belonging to it, to the end that every one which wants money may repair thither, and upon request to the under clarks speak with the master of the office, and thence take directions how to proceed, and so obtain money. This will make them know themselves, and yield duty to them that it appertains: when they shall come by degrees to the worth of money.  Anto. 
This I like well; but it will be a great charge to maintain master and clerks in an office, so shall we lose much out of our gain.  Nov. 
Sir you mistake it quite. The company hath argued that case to and fro. The master and clerks will pick out a living well enough I warrant you out of them that take up money, and this will free them from other brocage. As you know all offices are maintained by the suitors, not by the granters of the place.  Anto. 
Right: but who shall be at the charge of the patent?  Nov. 
That must be done by the company. But we'll lose nothing by it. For we are determined to let no money go but one way or other we will get 30 in the 100. And if we give commodities we will have more: & 'tis reason too. The worse the bargain is, the more they must lose that take it. And there is another thing that we will be at the charge of Sir. Wherein we must crave your help also. And that is: some arms from the king of Heralds appropriated to our company alone, and hanged up behind the master of the office: this will give honour to the place, and cause suitors to understand they enter into a court of command and authority.  Noverindo whispers Antonio in the ear while Proberio speaks thus to the people. Pro. 
O, I could fit these fellows to a hair. I could devise them a crest as fit as a fan for a forehorse.  Anto. 
Proberio: here is Noverindo hath a piece of employment for you, and thinks you can discharge it well if you list. And I'll see you well considered. It is this. That you move the Heralds to give the company. Crest with the due circumstances. And go in my name they will do it the more freely.  Pro. 
Sir I am the only man for such a business. If the Herald cannot aptly conceive it, I can instruct him. I'll undertake to have it speedily.  Nov. 
Thanks Proberio: and thou shalt not travail for unthankful persons.  Exit Antonio. Pro. 
Sir, it will cost 10l besides somewhat for expedition: and I must have it ready to pay: for I will not come from him till I bring it.  Nov. 
Here is 10l and a piece for expedition: and another for thy pains: study hard to have it exactly done, thou shalt have two pieces more. (Proberio makes haste away, but Nov. calls him )stay, one word before you go. Let it be somewhat terrible to the beholders: we'll make them do (that same) in their breeches.  Pro. 
But so you may scar them quite away, they will come there no more.  Nov. 
I warrant: thee: if they were sure to go to prison within a while after, they will come again for money. They are very venturous: nay desperate: nay foolhardy. O, money is money, and they must have it.  Pro. 
Say no more, I'll be your warrant, it shall be fearful enough. (Exit Nov. )and make some of you stain the place you stand in, and look backward what drops behind you. Let me alone, I'll dress you as you should be trimmed 30 in the 100. I'll not forget that upon my word.  Exit.   

ACT. V.  

SCEN. I.  Enter Malingua the Lawyer. Mureto the Merchant, and Granato the Fariner. 
It is even high time the world were at an end, for I think all trades are decaying: when my father put me to the Inns of Court he advised me in any case to study, so that I might be called to the bar, and then (saith he) fear not to live in all plenty and credit. But I find it otherwise, for now that I am exalted thither, my law serves me not to get my commons. I wish I had been bred a Tapster: that trade is now more gainful with froth than ours with all our words. And for any thing I see 'tis like to last to the world's end, whereas ours can be good no longer than people be contentious. And that is a special argument the ale. sellers use against us, saying that we gain by falling out of neighbours, & friends but they grow rich by meeting of good fellows, and sitting together lovingly. There are so many hindrances grown up of late that it is impossible our reign should long continue although it be true (and we complain not) that malice is as great among men as ever it was, and can be wished: but the mischief is, their money fails, & they grow wiser.  Mure. 
I marvel what will satisfy your greedy desires. have you not the whole kingdom at your service & beck? what Lord, Knight, Gentleman, Merchant, Husbandman, or other sort of people is not attendant at your study doors, with paying and praying? and glad that the fee which he gives is of that glorious operation, that it breeds no wrinkles in your forehead, but is cheerfully received? What congees, and submissive requests to peruse their case with a little care? What troops conduct you to the bar? What venison sent to your feasts? What respect and entertainment if you vouchsafe to visit their country houses? And finally, what honour and homage can be done to subjects, but you have it in all fullness, and yet you whine as not contented. I perceive you would murmur if you were so handled as poor merchants are, that unless we turn Usurers, we cannot live.  Mali. 
You complain without cause Mureto. Your case is far better than ours: for if one country or commodity afford not gain, you can go into another, and chop and change as often as you list. We are tied to one country and place. You may offer your wares, and are sure to have traffic as the times and prices be. We may not tender our service to any, but sit gaping in our chambers, as melancholic as mice, until somebody chance to knock at the door.  Gra. 
It is merry when fishermen complain of herringmen. Surely the world might well spare of both sorts of you a great number. Concerning you Master Mureto, it is clear that you play the merchant with us, who bite and whine at your impositions. although you lose nothing; but the whole burden thereof falls upon them who spend the commodities, and must ere they buy, pay the shot of your impositions whatsoever it be.  
And for you Master Lawyer, that grow fat with the drops which falls from other men's brows, and be merry with the frets that gall the Clients hearts: whose grief is always to hear of peace and charity; and rejoice with the Fox, that the hens fall out for their perch: what fault find you with this world that was never so rich with envy, and full of suits? You are like the box among gamesters, which gains whosoever lose. But if all men were of my temper, I would make you leap a yard high for a groat.  Mali. 
What, a whole yard? what if I were never at the dancing school, and cannot caper so high?  Gra. 
Then thou shouldst have but two pence.  Mali. 
Nay; I know a trick worth two of that. For if our craft fail, I'll turn minister: and that I am sure will not decay.  Gra. 
Woe be to that Parish that shall have a Lawyer to their Pastor. some be already troubled sufficiently with citations; they need no common Law writs. And without a capias vt legatum, a Lawyer can never preach.  Mali. 
Who can endure this filthy Farmer to rail as he doth at us two Mureto? Let us set upon him. Are you so free without fault Master Granate, that you may throw your stones so thick at others? Belike no complaints are made against you for hoarding up corn against a dear year, for selling to badgers at a dear rate, and not serving the market: for mingling bad corn with the good, and foul dressing of the best. For deceitful ploughing your neighbour's ground that hires you at a hard rate, which makes the poor man weep at harvest. Besides many other country tricks which breed new cases among old Lawyers, which I could argue upon an hour together, if I were not presently to go to the hall to move in the Kings bench upon an erection firm.  Mure. 
By lakin (Master Granato) you had been as good held your peace as buckled with a Lawyer. I swear he hath in few words touched you to the quick, and done you no wrong neither in mine opinion: but we will adjourn this disputation until our next meeting, and in the mean time provide yourself for a better defence.  Exeunt.  

ACT. V.  
SCEN. II.  Intrat Proberio & Antonio at several doors. 
Sir, Master Eloc and the Knight have given me a copy of their account, and according to your charge, and their defence I have drawn bill and answer. I have showed it them; they liked it, and wish it should be engrossed, and put into the Court, they will depose the answer is true.  Anto. 
Is it so? well, give me them. If I find them in that forwardness I will take their word, and end it with kindness. Proberio, you must remove your trunks and stuff presently. I will clear my chambers from all men but myself.  Pro. 
What? just so soon as I have done all your business must I be gone, you might have suffered me until you go out of town, if then you will needs have me remove. You were wont to let me lie here a week after, or as long as I needed. marry now I find the cause of that to be, that you had then some business for me to do.  Anto. 
Yes; but I purpose to sell my lodgings, and I must have them out.  Pro. 
Where shall I lie this night, being suddenly unprovided? and whither shall I carry my stuff?  Anto. 
You shall have a bed at the Inn where my horses stand. And your stuff may be put in the out room, near the garden.  Pro. 
There they may be stolen; but I must be content, (though not pleased) if there be no remedy.  Anto. 
You owe me six pound; you must provide it presently, or else I will arrest your sureties.  Pro. 
That six pound I do not owe, although you got my bond for it by a very hard and undue course. And to this I will depose. And if I did, I hope you will not exact it, having received such kindness heretofore from me when I was able, and you in extreme need thereof, and now doing you so many services.  Anto. 
Tell me nothing of that; you have been satisfied in your diet and lodging to a better value.  Pro. 
In lodging? I am ashamed to hear such a word, (though you be not to allege so base a reckoning) I had always my own sheets, except sometimes when mine were finer, you would change with me for worse. And the great diet I had was sometimes a piece of chief, and one egg; for which benefits, I have travailed like a Porter, & written like a clerk. Is this your gratitude for good turns passed? and are all your promises thus performed?  Anto. 
How? gratitude? every beggar talks of gratitude. It is for such as you to sue for mercy, not to talk of gratitude, which is among equals.  Pro. 
These were not your words to me, when you were a beggar, and a borrower from me, and had need of the poorest help; but then you found no beggar of me, but your best friend.  Exit. Anto. 
A proper reckoning. This fellow looks for recompense. Why, he had my countenance which made him many times respected. And I could yet be content to speak for him, but doth he expect farther? why, the fellow knows not the world. Simplo, tell him that if my word may do him any good, he shall have it: but if he love his liberty, let him challenge no deeds at my hands. He never had more of me then my word for that he now claimeth. And doth he think to build castles upon my word? if he do, they shall come down apace. Now he is gone to remove his stuff, bid my attorney take out execution against his surety.  Simp. 
This is cold comfort for me. Sir, you make me half afraid, you will turn me off at the worst time of the year. I am not able to deserve so well at your hands as he hath done, and yet so lightly regarded. That is very hardly done.  Anto. 
Dost thou fear turning off? it comes with a fear, and ends with a fever. Thou mayst go assoon as thou wilt after him.  Simp. 
If it please you to give me my I will take my leave now.  Anto. 
Soft a while, where is your witness that I have 100l. of yours? And if I had, thou wert content I should use it as mine own. But go to, I'll pay thee. There was a knave ran away with 100l. of mine, I'll change with thee; seek him out, take the money, and hang him, that's interest.  Simp. 
(turns to the people. )This is a poor help for my 100l. for all this I'll not leave his service until I get my 100. or somewhat for it. I wood I had my land again at a venture.  Exit Simplo. Intrat Proberio. 
Sir, I have removed my stuff into your garden room; but there it is not safe from robbing. And at your Inn I can have no lodging. I must sit by my stuff all night.  Anto. 
It willbe so much the safer.  Pro. 
I hear besides that my surety is in execution at your suit for the six pound.  Anto. 
That may be. I cannot help it unless I be paid.  Pro. 
You know I owe you nothing of that money.  Anto. 
I know not that.  Pro. 
Will you have my oath?  Anto. 
No.  Pro. 
Will you refer it to friends?  Anto. 
No.  Pro. 
To your own brother?  Anto. 
No.  Pro. 
I protest upon my faith no penny of this money is due. And yet to save my surety I offered a fine mewed Goshawk, which before good witness you did accept, and caused me to keep a whole Michaelmas term in London: but at the end of that very term unknown to me, you sneaked out of town leaving order to have my surety arrested, and so followed, that now he is in execution upon that only suit. I say no more, but demand judgement in this case.  Anto. 
Proberio, I have done thee the grace to hear thee to the full. And it joys me much, that either he shall die in prison, or I shall have that money.  Exit. Pro. 
Was there ever any so hard hearted? twenty years past, when I was in prosperity, and he at point of death, by rigour of Law, I took many costly journey to Court, labouring for his pardon. I did him all the good offices that a true friend could do for another. And I left nothing undone that might do him good. Besides, I lent him 50l. gratis in those times, myself paying interest for that money. At which time what vows and promises he made me, I let pass, as ingrateful to my heart in repeating, and serve to no other purpose but for a warning, and a wonder that so much ingratitude should harbour in an English man. And now you are all witnesses of my reward.  Exit.  

ACT. 5.  
SCEN. 3.  Enter Mureto, Granato, and Malingua. 
Now Granato, if you be content to yield the victory unto Master Malingua this Lawyer, and confess to have wronged us merchants with the petulancy of your prating; you may perhaps have your punishment extenuated if we be your judges, and so quietly shut up all among ourselves.  Gra. 
I am so far from any such confession and submission, that I offer to maintain every word spoken in our last contention. And for judgement I appeal from you both; and know that I am your ancient from the time that Adam digged the earth for his living.  Mali. 
Then purge yourself Granato from the crimes we charged you withal: and the end will try if you had not done better to take penance for your faults at our hands.  Gra. 
For the high prices of corn (which falsely and absurdly you impute unto husbandmen) if you had either wit or honesty you would soon grant that there are two main reasons for it which lie not in our power to redress, but in the state's wisdom to help. One is, the uncontrolled and improvident liberty for all sorts & degrees to marry, so that many are grandmothers at 30 years old. The other is the multitude of Enclosures and decay of tillage. And if we cornmen did not till all the ground we can get; how dear (think you) would corn be shortly? Many other Reasons for brevity's sake I omit, but these will hold argument against you for term of both your lives, and after your decease to your heirs males lawfully begotten.  Mali. 
Believe me Master Mureto, this Farmer hath made for himself a reasonable good Apology, and put us a hard case. It seems he hath studied well since our last parley. But what say you Granato to your evil words lavished out against Lawyers? therefore you must yet crave pardon.  Gra. 
Not I truly. For I gave you no worse speeches than you give one another at the bar, nor so evil. For there you fall out like any scolds: but the worst is, you willbe friends at dinner, yet never in charity I think. And I see no reason I should stoop to either of you, considering the goodness of my cause. For I willbe judged by any indifferent man, if I, and such as I am, be not honester and better than both your factions.  Mali. 
Since thou hast offered it, thou shalt not escape until that be tried, Here sit a couple that seem very wise by their silence, we'll be judged by them. What say you Mureto?  Mure. 
With all my heart. For we can not be worse than we are howsoever we speed.  Gra. 
A match. I'll refuse no man's opinion that is not of your ranks.  Mali. 
Gentlemen. We need not report the causes of our reference unto you. All our jars, and wrangles you have heard. We entreat you to finish them with your doom.  Secu. 
To deal plainly with you all, mine opinion is, that the world is generally more wronged and abused by the Lawyer and merchant, then by the Farmer, who though he have faults, yet gets he his living more honestly, and is of necessity to be harboured. But Sir Hermito I must refer the full decision of their cause to your censure.  Her. 
That one of them is better than the other, I do not see; therefore methinks the question should rather be which is the worst. The Farmer that deceives so far as his capacity will carry him, is condemned by his intention to do worse if his skill did enable him.  
The Lawyer is a necessary member of the commonwealth to find and determine every man's right. But if willingly he oppugn right, and be enemy to peace, he is the devils agent, and Christ's enemy.  
Likewise a merchant which causeth commerce and amity between severed nations is a man commendable. But if he use fraud, then is he pestiferous, and deserveth banishment where no society is.  Malingua, Mureto, and Granato, make obeisance unto Securus and Hermito, and turning together, say. Mure. 
I told you Master Malingua, we could not lose by the bargain. Now the Farmer is as bad as we. What say you Granato to this gear?  Gra. 
I say little. Why? I can be content to be as dishonest as you. I am not proud of my honesty, nor do I love to be singular.  Mali. 
But now thou seest we may be as honest as you, if we will ourselves.  Gra. 
Who denies that? I stand not much upon that neither.  Mali. 
But hath this hermits preaching done thee no good? canst thou be content to mend if we do so too?  Gra. 
Yes, with all my heart. And I'll be good before both you if you mend not the faster.  Mure. 
Content. Let us all amend: for I think in my conscience it is even high time.  Mali. 
All our hands we will join together in manner of a vow that it shallbe so.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. 5.  
SCEN. 4.  Enter Proberio, bringing a cloth, wherein is pictured an Usurer bareheaded with a purse in his left hand, on the outside of which purse is set this inscription: 30. p. pro 100. And behind him the picture of the Devil, with his arms striped up, and white halfway, like the hangman's shirt sleeves, putting on a halter about the usurers neck, and showing it to the people, sayth, 
Now, could I meet my merchant Noverindo, I have here a whole library for his learning. Here he may study while he spend his heartblood with struggling, yet never reach the depth with his pettitoes.  He roll it up again. Enter Noverindo. 
How long I think until I meet Noverindo. All is ready at our office, but the Blazonry of our coat of Arms to be set up, and for want of that we lose many hours. For there be store of suitors without, that think long to seal they care not what. But we will not open the door until we furnish it with that gashful spectacle to affront them. Yet time is precious with us, who must account to an hour, else I'll not give a fart for a money-monger that shall lose a minute negligently.  Pro. 
This caitiff is careful of losing time in his wrath-heaping gain; but that this time be well spent, he takes no care at all. Well Sir, you shall not complain of me for keeping you too long from the Devil, the sooner you go, the better for the country you live in. Noverindo: why fret you yourself? I have more need to be choleric for staying here this hour, waiting your leisure, while I might have gotten 20l. by other employments.  Nove. 
I cry you mercy Master Proberio. I am sorry for that. And I thought you had not dispatched our business. I pray you let me see it. All our occasions are at a stand until it come, for it must be set up before any be admitted thither, or else the world will think it to be a new devised trick, and not appendent to our corporation.  Pro. 
None but fools will think so when they view it well, they shallbe caught to acknowledge that it was due to you long since, even from your first denomination.  Nove. 
Well said Proberio, so would I have it appear indeed. Unfold, let me see it quickly. I am with child till I see it.  Pro. 
With child? with the Devil you are. But soft Sir, is there no more in the case than you make show of? what presently see it, and have it, and set it up?  Nove. 
No. Why should there be any more circumstances used? is it not ours, and belongs to us only?  Pro. 
But Sir, have you forgotten my two pieces you promised me upon finishing the business? I warrant you I have deserved it you need not grudge me.  Nove. 
If I like it, I will perform your two pieces. Will you not trust me for 44. shillings?  Pro. 
Why should you ask me such a question? Is there any man in Christendom or in Kent, that you will trust for 40. shillings without good security?  Nove. 
No. But you have good security: for you have the thing itself in your hand, which you may keep.  Pro. 
Yes, I have, and will keep you from sight of it until I have my money. For what can I tell? you may be so overjoyed with the sight, that you may run mad upon it. And then what guardian of yours while you live, or administrator when you die will pay me 44. shillings, especially being due for a thing that put you out of your wits? Therefore satisfy yourself, you shall not see it until I have every penny of my money.  Nove. 
How shall I know that it is done when I have paid you?  Pro. 
even as I know that you will pay me 100l. when I and my sureties have sealed the bond to your use before I receive a penny.  Nove. 
You say well. Come, here is your money.  Pro. 
Now you shall see it. (Then he sets it up with some device upon a staff. that with turning it all the spectators may view it, and saith )Look here Sir, here's rods in piss for the villains.  Nov. 
Noverindo looks earnestly upon it a long time, and then fetching a great sigh, saith .What Tiburnist is this? And what's the mystery of all this picture?  Pro. 
Sir. this Tiburnist, or hangman is the Devil. And this fellow that hath the purse is judas. the figure of 30 with p. joined to it signifies 30 pence, for which he sold his master. That which followeth is meant of Christ, worth a hundred worlds: for which fact the Devil put a halter about his neck and hanged him. So shortly this is the sum of all.  

judas who for 30d sold Christ infinitely greatest  
Was hanged by the devils help, and reputed with the basest.  
Before you saw the history,  
Now you hear the mystery.   Nov. 
'tis a good exposition. But I wood I had my two pieces again. I do not like it very well, for many ignorant people will take it far otherwise: as thus, 30. p. 30l. for a hundredth. And he that taketh 30l in the 100. is to be hanged by the Devil.  Pro. 
'tis true. many may think so: but your Clarks must inform them in the sense. No man can put a secret in figures but it may be diversely interpreted. And so be all oracles taken in sundry senses.  Nov. 
But I wish it were made plainer to the understanding: for the more part will take it as I did at first sight.  Pro. 
Why should you think so?  Nov. 
Because I cannot imagine any other meaning so proper to those figures as that I conceived.  Pro. 
That's because you are parcel guilty. But I will gather two other conceits as proper as that of yours.  Nov. 
If you can do so I am satisfied.  Pro. 
Thus 30l pro 100. that is, he that gives 30 in the 100 is worthy to be hanged.  Nov. 
That judgement is very prejudicial for us, & may force from us many Clients.  Pro. 
I do but guess at this for variety sake, And then another is this. 30 in the 100. he that will not give 30 in the 100 is worthy to be hanged.  Nov. 
O this; this. none like to this. Now I like this riddle excellent well that yields so many, & so witty constructions.  Pro. 
Nay here one more comes flowing in. I tell you 'tis a very copious theme. I could keep you here this hour with voluntary variety. I remember them as fast as they come into my brains by huddles. 30 in the 100. and the hangman by: that is, he that will not give 30 in the 100. shall be hanged before he get any money there.  Nov. 
And so he shall I warrant him. This is as good or rather better than the other. I commend thee Proberio. either of these will serve our turn.  
Here, thou shalt have one piece more. I'll be bigger to thee then my word. Thou wilt make all our worships hearts merry with this device.  Pro. 
I thank you Sir. And if you knew with what alacrity, and willingness I went about it, you would think it well bestowed.  Exit Nover. 
Let him go, he carries his own rod. No man that hath his senses will conjecture otherwise than himself did at first. videlicet.  

He that takes 30 in the 100 and not a penny under,  
Is worthy to be pendent till the hemp crack asunder.   Exit.  

ACT. V.  
SCEN. V.  Enter Antonio and Simplo. 
I bade you go to M. Thompson for my rent, have you brought it.  Simp. 
Sir, he hath sent your rent all but 30 shillings which he abated for 80 caudles at 4d the caudle.  Ant. 
What an ass art thou? I sent thee for my rent, not to pay for caudles.  Sim, 
Why sir, he deducted it, then how could I help it? it were a great shame not to pay for your diet in the account.  Ant. 
You should have left the imputation to me.  Sim. 
So I did nevertheless: but for my credit's sake that fetched them every morning I thought reason to discharge your score.  Ant. 
Score? what score? is my hand at it? or did you keep a tally?  Sim. 
I kept no tally but he is a very honest man, & his wife chalked them up behind the dore.  Ant. 
I am as honest as they. but yet I never use to keep reckoning of caudles when they be eaten half a year before and the taste washed from my throat. If he cannot afford his Landlord 100. caudles without money, he is no Tenant for me. What; no less than 30 shillings in caudles taken out of my rent at a clap, who did ever hear of the like? And the price too is monstrous: groats apiece? why, it were enough for a supper at my chamber. Indeed they were very sweet and good, but what of that? a man may buy gold too dear. Tell him from me, I will not allow him a penny for caudles, and yet I will have my rent.  Simp. 
Sir, there stands a poor gentlewoman called Mistress Richardson at the door, and desires to speak with you.  Anto. 
A poor woman, what have I to do with poor folks? bid her come in, she shallbe never the richer for me.  Exit Simplo. Intrat Susanna Richardson, makes curtsy with a paper in her hand, and a seal to it, saith, 
Sir, a kinsman of yours and mine, a knight, when he went to travail had no money to spare, but bestowed on me 10l which you owe him by this your bill. I beseech you to pay me, for now I am in want.  Anto. 
Let me see the bill. If it be mine I will discharge it. She gives him the bill, and after well viewing, he tears off the seal, and saith, I owe him nothing, nor will pay thee any thing.  Susan. 
Why do you tear the bill? if you will not pay it.  Anto. 
Did not you say it was my bill? if it be mine, why may not I do with it as I list myself?  Susan. 
But you promised to discharge it; and doing so, it is at your pleasure to tear or burn it.  Anto. 
Have I not discharged it thinkst thou? I warrant thee 'tis sure enough for ever charging me again.  Susa. 
O heavens! was there ever such a monster hatched what age but this could have fostered so degenerous, so shameless, so frontless a beast as thou art? It had been happy for many that have had to do with thee if that Skin ere this had been flayed from that impudent face of thine.  Anto. 
Be gone; Thy tongue is left thee to rail at large, but thy means be short to revenge thyself by law. Therefore feed upon thy woes, and tears, money thou gettest none of me.  Exit Anto. Exit Susanna a contrary way wringing her hands.   

ACT. VI.  

SCEN. I.  Enter Furioso the soldier, with his company Gorraso the Intelligencer, and Phantastico the Musician. 
Courage my companions. Pluck up your hearts, methinks I hear the sound of trumpets and drums within my breast. Whether I wake or sleep nothing but Alarms beset my thoughts: wars cannot be far off. Every thing prognosticates stirs and broils. The very children muster in the streets. We have lived a great while like metamorphised men. It is such a sight for soldiers to walk in Pawles with long cloaks and grave attire as if they were turned Civilians. Why should we alter our proper habits being ensigns of honour? Hath not the whole need of us by turns, and fits? And to one place or other we are still invited. We succour the besieged, and relieve the distressed. We restore kingdoms, and set captives at freedom. We toss and tennis Crowns and Monarchies, & bestow them at pleasure. Finally we make the earth tremble, and discolour the running streams.  
Some few faults we have, but not worthy to be so generally condemned.  Corra. 
The life of a soldier as now adays it is used, is of all occupations the worst: and in a word is the high way to Hell.  Furio. 
You need not bend yourself so stiffly against any sorts of people, be they never so wicked, being yourself one of the basest and most unnecessary fruitspillers that ever made themselves mercenary. An Intelligencer, a spy, an eavesdropper is hated, and shunned of all the world.  Corra. 
As true as I live, it were a good deed to apprehend you. I'll lay my life you are an enemy to the state.  Furio. 
Yes to your state. do you kick already? nay I'll gale you better yet. with thy borrowed bravery thou perkest, and insinuatest thyself into the best company, & underminest their thoughts with thy lavish and warranted impeaching of states proceedings. And if any perhaps second thee in thy feigned murmuring him thou pursuest, and becomest first his animater, and then his accuser. such a one was D. Pary until the snare he laid for others compassed his own neck.  Corra. 
Sir, you do us unsufferable injury: we are busied only in our country's service, and certify all things offensive to it.  Furio. 
That's the intent of your mission, and cause of your entertainment. But you (to seem diligent) attend many times to babbles and toys, and the better to pack away paper you send your own surmises when weightier affairs either happen not, or escape you. And so lest you seem to neglect your service, you return trifles.  Phan. 
For any thing I see you are both pernicious members, and never to be nourished but in cases of necessity. We musicans are fortunate who hurt none, and covet to please none. We drive away melancholy, We recreate the mind, and revive the benumbed spirits, and are welcome to all sorts. Such soldiers as you are signior Furioso I make no more account of, then of so many foul thistles in a meadow at Midsummer, whose heads every child will whip off with a wand And I will have a still, plain, temperate lad shall break thy bones with his blow, when such air beaters will scarce pierce the skin. I will myself be one of the six musicans that with the help of a few unarmed silly folks shall kill 100 such soldiers in an hour: and yet we musicans will have no weapons but instruments of music.  Furio. 
How shall this come to pass, I desire to hear for my learning?  Phan. 
Thus. I will assemble a few fair women as honest as I would have them, and wine enough. You shall have your bellies full of all your desires. They shall dance you faint, and kiss you weary. And when you cannot feel a needle thrust through your noses they shall cut your throats with ease. And we musical mates will celebrate your Infernals with bells upon our fiddles.  
Now with you Sir neck. nipper, or M. Corraso (if so you be styled) I will be brief. While you do your prince and country good service, I wish you rewarded: but the first time you be treacherous you should be well guarded.  Furio. 
What now foolish fiddler, dost thou think freely to carry away these exorbitant and opprobrious terms? I'll have thee banished all houses of my acquaintance. It is not long since you were teaching the lute to a pretty wench and witty, and were fingering her frets unfit for your dirty. Its best for you to be quiet, lest I tell the rest which I know.  Secu. 
Sir Hermito. If you be not. I am weary with hearing such variety of vice. The soldier that was wont to be the honour of every country he came in, and a glory of his own, is now become odious abroad, and intolerable at home. The intelligencer might do good service if you could devise to keep him from doing hurt, which is as hard as to restrain a man of war having letters of Mart from robbing his own country men.  
The Musician that ought to present nothing evil founding, is now the setter of all unsavoury sonnets. His office was to teach the measures and dances of order and comeliness, not the lofty Levalto and tricks of intemperance.  Her. 
I assure you Master Securus those things are as distasteful to me as to any other. And I am so much the safer that I live from their sight and knowledge. The Soldier, the Spy, and the Musician have their several abuses much degenerating from their first institutions; if any man can persuade them to repair unto my cell, I will do my best to reform them.  Exeunt Furio, Corraso. and Phantastico, doing reverence to Securus and Hermito.  

ACT. VI.  
SCEN. II.  Enter Antonio. and Simplo at several doors, stamping, chasing and throwing down his hat. 
How now Simple, what's the news now?  Simp. 
Marry I was never in such a scurvy case in my life.  Anto. 
What is it? hast thou the pox?  Simp. 
No, 'tis worse. that's but a toy, 'tis the plague. I am so pestered with yonder woman Susanna Richardson. She says you did tear liar bill of 10l. she scolds, she tails; she threatens to dwell with you, to lay her child at your door, and set up the cause upon your gate: and every thing she will do until she be agreed withal. She makes me weary of my life: she follows me like a ghost: and now she stands at door. If you had not been here she had never left me, but she cannot abide to see you.  Anto. 
All this I little care for; but there's a thing in it. I fear the Star-chamber because she hath witness (or else I would not care neither) I must agree with her, bid her come in.  Enter Susanna, makes curtsy. 
You showed me an old rotten note other day. 'tis not worth two pence. What would you have? I owe you nothing.  Sus. 
The note was worth 10l till you fingered it, now 'tis not worth a halfpenny indeed: but if you will give me nothing, I will tell the King. I am a poor widow, he will help me.  Anto. 
The King woman? Alas, he hath great business, never trouble him with this toy. I'll give thee somewhat in charity, but not a penny of duty.  Sus. 
Charity? that would I fain see from you. Pay first the 10l which is due, and then bestow your charity.  Anto. 
Well, woman, here is 50 shillings with a good will: take this, or get more any way you can.  Sus. 
I should have had an ounce, here is but a quarter. I am poor, therefore I am constrained to take this, but I leave the rest upon your conscience still.  Exit. Anto. 
Nay, than I care not, we'll do well enough with conscience Simple. I am glad 'tis at an end in Law.  Simp. 
So am I Sir, now I shall be quiet. An you marked Sir, I never entreated you for conscience sake to give her any thing, but for my trouble. Nay I have learned to stretch a conscience with any man since I came to you. And 'tis soon learned if a man will give his mind to it: for the good will of a jade is all. What a fool was I that began no sooner to study it?  
But I have more news to tell you Sir. As I came by the Chancery office I was called in to see a very foul bill, put in against you at M. Thompson's suit, for things which you did take (not altogether steal) out of his house. And for a lease 'parel he challengeth from you: and there are also your fourscore and ten caudles in a row: in every line a caudle, spiced and sweet, & as hot as ever they went down your throat: and some say they shall be still upon record in perpetuam rei memoriam, if it be true, it shall go hard but every morning in term times as long as I live I'll spend my penny at one of them.  Ant. 
Hath he served me so? well. 'tis a maxim with me Simplo to be ashamed of nothing (as thou knowest) but yet I'll be even with him. He shall out of his house whatsoever it cost me.  Simplo. 
There is also another bill against you by your wives near cozen, wherein you are charged (not directly with stealing, but taking without the owner's privity or consent) a picture, a map, and other household stuff.  Ant. 
I make no more reckoning of that imputation then of the rest. For if the worst fall I shall have them as they be praised.  Sim. 
Nay, if you care not for the manner of taking them, the matter is not great otherwise.  Ant. 
Not a rush Simplo, save and think what they will, I am sorry I took no more.  Sim. 
But one thing made me laugh heartily, and in my conceit it was a witty trick that was told me lately, that you borrowed 100l of a gentlewoman called Mistress Ferrers Gratis, and put it out for 10 in the 100. And after a year and a half with much ado paid her: and so you got 15l handsomely. I would I could tell whereto borrow two or three 1000l in that sort. methinks I have wit enough to thrive on this fashion.  Ant. 
'tis a fine way indeed, and cleanly (so that a man look to his security) And comes in without stock of his own: a very beggar may grow rich thus: and every paltry knave may thrive so, if he take heed. Millers use this trick to lend a bushel of another man's corn ground into meal to be paid again in wheat, so he takes toll twice of one bushel, and no cost of his own, It is but making the first bushels owner stay so much the longer.  Sim. 
There are yet two other things objected, but both of our nature therefore though it were a huddle, it makes but a single game. One was this that you picked the first letter out of a trunk full of linen, (the letter for the surname serving your name as well as the owners you let stand) and put on A. instead of R. which was picked out. And this was Mr. Rellips' linen. The other was that you marked pillows, and other stuff of a noble man's with your own mark, and used them as your own. I forgot the noble man's name but it sounds like a port town toward the sun when it is at the highest. They had much of their stuff again, but some stuck in your fingers. And reason too I think: shall a man take pains to mark another man's goods for nothing? A halter for him that hath no better wit than so, to thrive by.  Ant. 
There was such a speech of this marking, but I deny it.  Sim. 
And what then? will that serve the turn?  Ant. 
It must serve. for they shall never prove directly that I did or caused it to be done.  Sim. 
But they were found in your possession. and then how can you avoid the discredit?  Ant. 
Discredit? they may be glad to have their things again. who can tell but they be mine? I am sure they nail my mark. And how shall a man know his own but by his mark? And howsoever these things are, time will wear them out of memory.  Sim. 
All these are well answered. What say you Sir to the taking of a conveyance out of a painted box in your father in laws study, by means of a key with pretence of another business?  Ant. 
Tush. I said it there again when I saw they kept such a stir about a paltry piece of parchment. I will not be beholding to them.  Sim. 
What an unkindness was that, that your father in law did threaten to sue you for 700l you owed him? Alas Sir I see you have been much wronged among them. Hang such a father.  Ant. 
ay but I dealt well enough with him: for I sent him word that if he did sue me I would bring him in more trouble than twice so much money could excuse him for other matters.  Sim. 
And reason too I think. shall they make a man pay money before he be willing? 'twood make a man do that a wood not, when they go to extremities. I have done for this time Sir. the next time you call for news I hope I shall have as much more. But now I remember me there is one thing more. Your lawyer asked me for a fee for your last business: shall I give it him?  Ant. 
No. I am sure he did not ask you. I brought a cozen of mine other day to him that gave him a fee. Indeed I told him that he should go to my lawyer and give him no fee. But when I had him there, and he put his case, I whispered my cozen in the ear to offer him a fee: But I did not whisper my lawyer to refuse it. and so very honestly he took it: and I know therefore he will expect no fee for my own business.  Sim. 
Then belike I mistook it. perchance he thanked you for bringing your cozen to give him a fee without cause, being well resolved before by other Council. Well now Sir I hope you will bestow my freedom upon me. I desire no more cunning than now I have, and I'll serve you still, and set up for myself: for I had rather be a double knave than a single fool.  Ant. 
I will not stick with thee Simplo: go to the Chamberlain there it must be done.  Exeunt. Ant. & Simp.  

ACT. 6.  
SCEN. 3.  Enter Insatiato and Infaelicto. 
What sayst thou boy? methought we had but a short dinner to day with yonder dainty Lady and tarried so long for it. How fared you in the hall?  Infae. 
We had very short commons. and I am hungry still: we had no meat but your reversion, and the scraps of your trencher when I changed with you.  Insa. 
Alas we left nothing but bare bones. we had but a quarter of a neck of mutton between three, and Parvagracio and I eat no meat nor bread since yesternight at 10 a clock: and from my trencher thou couldst get little but the fat squeezed from the flesh which I eat. I was so hungry that methought I could have eaten that small Lady, and her great cheer all at a meal. Here go thou to dinner at some ordinary (he puts his hand in his pocket but finds nothing there )stay till I have money: thou canst fast a little, canst thou not?  Infae. 
Yes a little, if I can get no meat.  Intrat Pestifero. Insa. 
Yonder comes Pestifero my brother. He could never have come in a better time: for I have neither money nor clothes to pawn: but boy not a word of our wants: we'll seem to be very flush: the offer shall come from himself, else we shall have him very coy and dear.  Pest. 
By your favour Sir I am bold to see as you do. I heard you were evil (he snites his nose )at ease with melancholy.  Insa. 
Welcome Pestifero: indeed I have been a little troubled in mind. but now I am very merry.  Pest. 
In good time Sir, I am glad of your worship's amendment. I doubted lest you lacked money, and were sad upon it. I came to pleasure you, if that had been your disease.  Insa. 
Thanks for thy good will Pestifero: but I am prettily stored at this instant: I know not how soon I shall want, for all things are uncertain in this world.  Pestif. 
Very true Sir, many changes in this age. wilt please you then to make provision against a rainy day, and take this while it may be had?  Insa. 
ay, but then you know interest will run on it is no good husbandry to take it so long before the time it may be I shall not need it this seven night yet.  Pest. 
Way Sir, if you be so provident that you reckon of weeks. it is time for me to be gone: I have other friends to pleasure, that scorn to stand upon two months passed before the sealing, from the time of the first be speaking the commodity resting from them until their security were provided. I'll see you some other time.  Infae 
Nay stay: I am not covetous. I hate it with my heart: if it may do thee a kindness I can be content to accept thy friendly offer, so thy commodity be vendible. I know thou comest in good will.  Pestif. 
Vendible Sir? yes that it is: and you will say so soon: no man will suffer it long in his house.  Insa. 
What stuff is it?  Pest. 
Of divers sorts: I know not myself: but they are finely packed up. I saw a car unloading with such ware even now as I came, it is a commodity more sought for by day and night then any I know. I tell you it troubles the Lord Maior, and all the justices to keep the people in order that gather these wares, they are so eager in catching at them.  Insa. 
Of what value is the commodity?  Pest. 
You may have 100l worth, or half, as you please.  Insa. 
What will 100l worth yield to be sold?  Pest. 
At a word it will yield you 60l readily: I'll not dissemble.  Insa. 
What security?  Pest. 
yourself and your friend such another.  Insa. 
What say you M. Parvagracio? you know him.  Pest. 
I know him well I warrant you he shall be taken.  Insa. 
What will content you.  Pest. 
What you please Sir, 40 shillings, I'll not ingrate upon you,  Insa. 
Now let me cast up my account. 40l lost out of the principal at the first 10l the interest. 40 shillings the broker. All this is but 52l in the 100, 'tis reasonable as the world goes now: here is my hand. As I am a gentleman I'll have it upon these terms, so that the bargain be no worse than you speak of, put the bands to making. Now tell me what call you the commodity?  Pest. 
The commodity Sir, is old rags, such as are found in street dunghills with raking day and night as I told you.  Insa. 
What a villain art thou? old rags? how durst thou presume to offer me old rags?  Pest. 
Why Sir, I tell you they are ready money at the paper mills.  Insa. 
Paper me no mills. I'll not foul my fingers with them.  Pest. 
You shall not need Sir, I will take order for selling them, and I hope you can abide to tell the money when I bring it. I wood your worship had 1000l worth of them, as filthy things as they be.  Insa. 
So would I: but it shall never be said for my credit's sake that I took up a commodity of old rags or doublets. I have heard of many scurvy bargains, but never the like to this.  Pest. 
Why sir, 'tis but your fancy. And now you cannot go back: here is witness enough you engaged your honour to have it. take the less and save your reputation.  Insa. 
I did so indeed, the more fool I to pass my word before I felt their stink. I cannot abide to think on them. But to save my credit go to, dispatch. I'll have the whole 100l since I must have some. I'll never give my bond for a little.  Pest. 
Well sir, it shall be done.  Exit Pestif. Insa. 
Now boy, was not this well handled? I must have had them upon any terms: but he never perceived it. Didst thou mark how he entreated me with respective terms, and pinned the bargain upon me? Those be always the best penniworths. It is a goodly thing to be wise. Remember boy when thou comest to years, to take this course of thriving.  Insa. 
Indeed Sir you carried this business admirably to the end. I would rather than 40l for my mind sake my old master your worship's father had stood in a corner, and had heard, and observed his sons wisdom. I warrant it had been worth 1000l to somebody.  Insa. 
Well. Now we want nothing for getting this threescore pound but Parvagracio to seal. Go seek him out, and we'll be merry.  Insa. 
I go fetch him.  Exeunt Insat. & Infael. Secu. 
I think the air is infected, that such contagious caterpillars swarm abroad in this age to destroy youth, that scarce one fruit among 100 comes to be ripe but is first rotten. Such as this broker is are nourished by the Devil for no cause but to waste young men in old prisons. And these cormorants which set them a-work to entice youth to these pestilent adventures methinks they can have no hope that he which receives so little money upon great bonds, doth ever mean to pay them. For he deals not with one of these gripers, but with as many as he can find willbe content with his own security. Therefore when he comes to be arrested he is buried alive for all, and payeth none.  Her. 
I wish they were all so served. then the loss of the money on the one side, and the sharp rod of imprisonment on the other side, would bring both sorts to repentance, & bethink themselves of using a good conscience to deceive on neither part. But if your Chancellor hold on his course in allowing the extortioner no more but the bare money made of such commodities that will shortly end the abuse. For this Aesop's dog will learn to hold the next piece better, than to be deluded with a shadow of double gain.   

ACT. VI.  
SCEN. IV.  Enter Antonio, Simplo, Purgato all booted. Stercorato the hostler. Camerado chamberlain. Ostler. 
Take heed to my horses, that they be well walked stuffed and dressed.  Stere. 
I warrant you Sir, and your Worship may have provender of all sorts.  Came. 
Will it please you to see your chamber?  Anto. 
Yes. but I must have the best in the house.  Came. 
You shall Sir. What wilt please your worship to have to supper?  Anto. 
First bring me a crusty manchet, and a single pot of beer.  Came. 
It shallbe done Sir (turns to the people )here's a hot guest I perceive by the single pot.  Exit. Simp. 
What will you have to supper Sir, that we may bespeak it for we are very hungry?  Anto. 
It is not wisdom to eat a meal when you are hungry, for then you eat too much and surfeit. even as it is not good to fight or correct scholars when you are in choler, for then you will do it beyond measure. I am as hungry as you, yet I will eat but a manchet, and drink twice of one pot.  Pur. 
What Sir? will you take up the best chamber, and spend but two pence for your part. And this at Croyden so near London?  Anto. 
No more. And but for the best chamber I would spend but a penny, a pint of beer and a half penny bread.  Pur. 
What a shame were this if your friends should hear it?  Anto. 
Leave the disgrace to me. I can bear it. Passi graviora.  Simp. 
Come Purgato, thou and I will bespeak our supper. 20d a piece we will spend to stop this current of rumour.  Exeunt. Intras Camerado. 
Here is a delicate manchet Sir. what meat to your supper?  Anto. 
This is not crusty enough. Change it.  Cam. 
But we have no better in the house.  Anto. 
I will have it changed.  Came. 
Well Sir, I will do my best. what shall my Mistress provide for your supper?  Anto. 
When thou hast changed the manchet thou shalt know.  Exit Camerado. 
A long journey have I ridden, and all day fasting, except a breakfast at my friend's house. Now if I should fill my belly, two shillings will not serve in sheer meat for me and my two men. This way yet I save somewhat: for these hungry knaves out of their own purses spend three shillings two pence: for I will allow but pence a piece. I hope they will not compare with me to ask two pence a piece as I spend. O tomorrow, tomorrow at dinner will I carry in for fear of foul weather, when I come to Master Remraf his house, my continual host and friend, whom I cannot balk, he is so conveniently in my way, and keeps good cheer. Oh, by that time my stomach will be tanquamignis accensus, a flaming fire, dispatching all meats it toucheth. And it is Physic sometimes to keep a stomach so fiery: for it will consume the very worms if any crawl up to the stomach for lack of nutriment in the maw.  Intrat Camerado. 
Sir, I have been with all the bakers in the town for a crusty loaf.  Anto. 
Thou hast done well. this is as it should be.  Came. 
Now Sir, what to supper? my Mistress stands at gaze until I tell her.  Anto. 
My friend. I have a very evil stomach, it will endure nothing toward night but bread and drink, my men I think will have something.  Came. 
(Turns to the people, and saith )Here is a customer for Paltock's Inn, but we'll nick him well enough in his horse-meat, and scurvy sheets.  Exit. Anto. 
I hear the knave well enough, but I'll watch you for both. My horses shall have but little provender. I'll call at some farmer's house tomorrow, and eat a peck in his stable, and for sheets I'll lay them by, and change with my men.  Exit.  

ACT. 6.  
SCEN. 4.  Intrat Insatiato & Infaelicto. 
Sirrah, have you found Parvagracio? when will he come?  Infae. 
To tell you the naked truth Sir I have been asleep till I heard you call for your galoshes: for I was so hungry, that if I had not slept I had committed Burglary somewhere to get victuals: Now I'll find him out. (he steps forwards, and turns again, saying )but I pray you Sir remember to give me my two shillings you promised me for bringing news of your dinner. Now you shall have money, I speak before it be gone.  Insa. 
Yes, and before it be come. why dost thou tarry the Scrivener will think us long; and a worse matter; perhaps we shall give them too much time to inquire of our states.  Infae. 
I can soon have him if all other things were ready: you know where you left him at the Ladies, where you both dined. He said he would follow you. I marvel he is so long. But I warrant they are up to the noses in the new book de flatibus. It is best for me to know if the bonds be ready before I fetch him, lest he be angry to leave the Lady's company before need require. Intrat Parvagracio. But look where he is come alone without carrying Sir, you saved me a labour. I was sent for you. Can you smell out good bargains? you come without calling. When thrift is in the market you are ever in the way?  Par. 
What good bargain crack is toward me?  Infae. 
My Master shall have money, and you must be bound with him.  Par. 
Is that a good bargain wag? well, I have such another a-brewing for your Master to be bound with me. but where is he?  Infae. 
Here, at hand. Now to the scrivener and broker go I.  Exit. Par. 
I am glad to hear of your good furniture toward, and I come to prostrate my seal and service at your worthy feet.  Insati. 
Sir, with all compliments for such kind love, I receive your readiness. And do reciprocally promise to be ever at your beck.  Intrat Infaelicto. Infae. 
Sir, the bonds be ready for the seal. I have seen the commodity of rags, and I like them well. They never dusty you except they be stirred. But they are foul and heavy. I wood we had sold them by gold smith's weight for so much in silver. I did see a fellow lift a bundle of them up to a car, and he grunted hard; he made me remember my Lady's book de flatibus. For I looked ever when he would have let fly.  Insa. 
Well let's go seal the bonds, and lose no time.    

ACT. 7.  

SCEN. I.  Intrat Levitia cum Pedisequa. her periwigs of dogs hair white, and a yellow band about her neck, a glass, and powder of an old post in a box or paper. And is very busy in trimming herself, and casting dust upon her head until her time come to speak. 
Insatiato goes on staring, But what have we here? I'll see this sight for all the haste.  Par. 
Why 'tis a woman. Dost not see what it is?  Insa. 
A woman? 'tis not a woman. The head is a dog. 'tis a mermaid, half a dog, half a woman.  Par. 
No 'tis but the hair of a dog in fashion, pulled from these Island dogs.  Insa. 
In fashion? there's a fashion for a fool. What's that she casts upon her head?  Par. 
That's the powder of a rotten post.  Insa. 
A tale of a tub, the powder of a pudding: will you make me believe that?  Par. 
Dost thou think it so strange? upon my credit I know some are spoken to for providing such powder by Ladies. I am in earnest. I assure you 'tis very common.  Insa. 
I think they be common indeed that be dressed with dust. (he goes prying on both sides of her, saying )not a dog say you? the head is a dog. The chiefest part is a dog. well, say what you will, you shall never make me believe but it is either a dog, or a dogged woman.  Par. 
Be she what she will in conditions, I warrant thee 'tis a woman in sex, or never trust my judgement again.  Insa. 
What's that about her neck? a pancake, or a tanzy?  Par. 
'tis a band yellow starched. how canst thou think it to be a tanzy?  Insa. 
Because it looks so yellow. marry it is not so well I wish it were, for then I would eat it up, for I have not half dined.  Par. 
No. 'twere pity to devour her, methinks 'tis a very pretty creature.  Insa. 
Dost thou like her so well? I'll go woo her: she has no impediment, but I may mary her, may I not?  Par. 
Not that I know, except she be honest.  Insa. 
Is that an impediment? nay, the honester the better. I'll to her instantly. I see no reason but I may fall in love with her on the sudden. And happy is that wooing that is not long in doing: but stay, are you sure she is a woman? I am in some doubt. And I would be very loath to marry her except she prove a woman.  Par. 
I warrant thee she is a woman. why shouldst thou fear it?  Infae. 
Have I not cause to fear it? for if I should be married to a beast, or a jade, I were utterly undone. is it not good to be sure?  Par. 
Mistrust not that. thou mayst know by her speech and voice whether she be a woman or no.  Insa. 
Cannot her tongue deceive me?  Par. 
Yes like enough, but not in this case, And if the worst fall you may easily know the first night you I'll together.  Insa. 
I thank you for nothing when it is too late.  Par. 
Why too late? thou mayst be rid of her presently, and be parted the next day.  Insa. 
I could like that well enough so that I had her portion, but is there such a course to be taken, that they cannot be tied so fast, but they may easily be undone?  Par. 
No question but the marriage is void.  Insa. 
That's an excellent trick. I wish I had a grant under the great seal to unmarry all those that would fain be parted. I would purchase Lordships, Towns, & Countries.  Par. 
If you had, yet must you use discretion in it, and divide none but such as are indeed no marriages at first, but had impediments not dispensable. Otherwise you might be cause of great sin, and inconvenience. You must examine the reasons, and proceed judicially, before you sever them rashly.  Insa. 
Never tell me, let them look to that at their own peril. It would take up too much time if there came to me but 100 in a day to examine them all. No. no. if they were willing to be sundered, I would uncouple them: let them range afterward which way they will for me. Well upon thy word that I may be divorced from her if she prove not a certain woman I'll upon her whatsoever she be. And I'll catch her upon a sudden for fear lest it be a dog & bite me.  (he goes stealing towards her with his hands forward. Par. 
A way coxcomb. I am ashamed on thee: come back, what dost thou mean?  Insa. 
O that same is a very suspicious head. I am afraid of it.  Par. 
Afraid of a dead dog? what a cowardly thing is that?  Insa. 
A dead dog? marry perhaps the hair is upon a curster snapper than the right owner was.  Par. 
Be ruled by me; I'll stand between thee and all dangers. go orderly to her, take her by the right hand as if thou wouldst dance with he. He danceth toward her and singeth.  Insa. 
hay niny. nonny no. hay niny no. hay noniny nonino. heigh ninyno. So he dances toward her.  Par. 
What a fellow art thou? a Courtier? a Cowdriver, come hither once again. Dost thou think to speed & go about It so like a Clown: Thou must woo her, as you court your ladies in the palace.  Insa. 
O, must I so? I thought she had been a country gentlewoman, and that the more plainly I had dealt, the better she would like me. But all is well enough yet, for nobody saw me.  Par. 
Thou art deceived in that: for they are as fine and curious as any Lady in Court, though they be not proud a whit.  Insa. 
Is't so? well, than I can fit her, she shall have courting enough. And I am glad you tell me of it; for I was in earnest to have loved her beyond measure, & so might have fallen mad, and marred all: but now I'll do even as we do at Court, make many shows of love and service, and intend nothing less. But yet thus honestly I'll deal with this woman (because she is a stranger) that if I love her, and like her, I'll love her until I leave her. Well, 'tis time to be doing, for my love begins to cool very fast: I must kindle it again. (with a congee he takes her by the left hand, saying )Fair Lady, it becomes not gentlemen of good breeding to talk of the weather, or time of the day, or use such idle impertinent speech: therefore, (all preambles and digressions set aside) I come to understand if you be pleased to admit me into the list of your devoted servants.  Lev. 
Indeed Sir, it seems you have been well bred, else you had never grown to this stature.  Insa. 
(He turns from her towards Parvagracio, and saith )Did not I tell you what I should find of her? she snarls already. I'll lay my life she will prove currish, her looks make it plain, come sweet Lady, what answer to my question?  Lev. 
Nay first I had need to answer your complaint to your friend, that I am so cursed and churlish. What uncivil term did I give, deserving so sharp a censure? women know not how to speak. If merrily, than our jest is termed scoffing, and quipping. If soberly, than our modesty is counted coyness, and want of courtesy. So that unless we say nothing, we commit error. And yet silence is not clear: for then are we sheep (alias) fools.  Insa. 
How could you hear what I said to him, since I turned my mouth from you?  Lev. 
But you turned not mine ears from your mouth.  Insa. 
Pardon this fault good Lady. I will be more careful hereafter.  Lev. 
No doubt you will: to have me further off when you say the worst.  Insa. 
I mean not so. but rather to speak the best of you in all places and companies as your merits (I know) will enforce me.  Lev. 
Nothing comes from you (I see then) but by constraint.  Insa. 
O that you would give over rebuking, no man shall reform himself before me. Forgive what is passed. If I offend again, deny me all favour.  Enter Pestifero, and whispers Insatiato, to whom he saith, 
Tell them I will come anon.  Exit Pestifero. Lev. 
Sir, it is against nature to remit injuries, therefore your request is unreasonable. But for his sake that gave the counsel, I will for give my greatest enemies: yet you must know it is lawful to reprehend your misdemeanours.  Insa. 
(Turns from her towards Parvagracio, and saith )This comforts me much, for she may be a Christian for any thing I hear yet.  Lev. 
You that content yourself with no habitation but a PRINCE's Palace, and will serve no less creature than Caesar: that no sooner pass the porter's lodge, but lift up your legs and lips, as if you had commission to control the country, to breath nurture from your nostrils, and be patron to poor people: whose gate and gesture give testimony to your heart's haughtiness: and whose countenance must outface all encounterers, how could you be so grossly overshot, as to cast yourself unacquainted, unfriended uncommended, and unpresented into the company of a gentlewoman of fashion?  Insa. 
I cry you mercy. Of what fashion are you that I might not do as I did without offence?  Lev. 
Why Sir? are you a courtier? and ask of what fashion I am? do you not see that I am of the newest, and neatest fashion? who sees my band and periwig, & doubts of that: I am persuaded you will prove a counterfeit, and no courtier, that are ignorant in so general a knowledge?  Insa. 
It was not the newest fashion the last year, and no Chronicle make▪ mention of it. Therefore if any man had written. Nihil factum est quod non fuit factum prius. I would have given his Proverbs the lie. For this saffroning was never used but in Ireland for bodily linen, to dissipate the company of creepers. And for such torturing of these Iceland Imps, with eradicating their fleeces, thereby to enjoy the roots, which best will abide the basting, it hath need to be new, for it is noisome, and makes your periwig nothing handsome.  Lev. 
Sir, let it suffice you that it is the newest fashion this very day. And if the sight and smell of it offend your nose, you know the ordinary remedy is to remove your nose. Yet I suppose by your paleness you use to take tobacco, than which, nothing is more fulsome.  Insa. 
Indeed, I want colour in my face, and wish I had the art to get so rosy a cheek as you have.  Lev. 
You do but guess that I use art to give grace to my feature, so it is easy for you to be deceived: but I will tell you a certain rule to know if any woman be painted.  Insa. 
Let me be beholding to you for this cunning infallible.  Lev. 
If you suspect it, take a pin, and scratch her cheek pretty deep to the bone, and if it bleed not, assure yourself she is painted.  Insa. 
I see now you are disposed to be pleasant with me. I bear all kindly. Now I entreat you to proceed with publishing my other faults, that when I know them all, I may amend, and so appear perfect in your sight.  Lev. 
Secondly, I charge you with flattery, at every word calling me Lady: which you are very sure I am not, seeing me come hither on my own feet, whereas if I were a Lady I must of necessity be at my caroche with 4 horses, or else my honour is in the dust in summer, and in the mire in winter. This then is an unexcusable sin of yours.  Insa. 
Alas. what should I call you not knowing your name? And you of all the women that ever I knew are angry for giving you more than your due. But rather than I will displease you that way, I will devise some other Epitheton of courtesy, until you determine to take Ladyship upon you, so well as it would become you.  Lev. 
Nay, I would not have you think that I am exceedingly angry for mistaking my present condition. It was a fault, but very venial. Your other errors I will conceal for this time, as unwilling to oppress you with penance, sithence I find you so freely to offer satisfaction.  Insa. 
Then now vouchsafe to receive me into your service, sithence no man shall carry himself more dutifully.  Lev. 
If I were fit to receive one of your sort, how could you serve me and the king too? can you serve two masters?  Insa. 
No. but one master and a mistress may both be served without breach of fidelity, and with great facility.  Lev. 
Very hardly, respecting the person's inequality: but if I should be so minded, what can you do?  Insa. 
All, that is not done before I come.  Lev. 
Can you, and will you do whatsoever I entreat or command you without grudging?  Insa. 
Yes, with all readiness and alacrity, & without exception.  Lev. 
Then I request and command you to let me alone, and never hereafter speak to me.  Insa. 
That's an unreasonable request, and injust commandment. There aught to be justice and possibility in every commandment; but this hath neither of them.  Lev. 
I will prove it hath both, or else I release your word.  Insa. 
Prove that, and I'll perform your will: for I have vowed to serve you, and it is injustice to break it. And I am in love, and it is impossible to limit it.  Lev. 
I thought so. draff was your errant, but drink you would have. you seek a service, but you mean to be master: this trick will fail you: for I have vowed beforehand, and I am bound to keep it.  Insa. 
You can make no vow contrary to mine, because you never knew my intention, nor person before this day.  Lev. 
Yes, contrary enough, as white is to black. And to hold you no longer in suspense, my vow and purpose is to be a Nun.  Insa. 
A Nun? There was never Nun with such attire, and in such a Cloister.  Lev. 
O Sir, I can quickly cast off this attire, and get a nun's habit. If the mind be changed, the apparel will soon be altered.  Insa. 
Of what order (if you speak in earnest) that I may visit your Cloister? for love hath gotten such dominion. that I cannot so part with you. And yet to this cross I know not what to say: for it takes from me all liberty to move further.  Lev. 
What will it avail you to know my Cloister, and walk without the wall? for there, all access & intercourse is barred.  Insa. 
Let my love yet be so far requited, as to know your name and order you enter into. It will ease my mind, that none other enjoys you. O, this love is like a quartern ague, and a suit in Law! A good day, and a bad: now hope. then despair. tonight comfort, tomorrow morning all dashed.  Lev. 
Sir I must crave respite to answer you directly to these questions: for I must have my friend's advice before I resolve. And so for this time I take leave.  Exit Lev. Par. 
Now, let us go seal these bonds in the mean space, and by that time perhaps she will come again.  Insa. 
Bonds? I am in bonds enough I think, bound hand, foot, heart, mind, wit and will. He that is in love needs no other chain to hold him; he is fast in prison, and locked sure enough for escaping. O Parvagracio! dost thou talk of going? whither should I go? Is it not enough that my love is gone, and that all is gone with her? my heart is gone with her, and she is gone away with my heart: whither can I go without my heart? And whither she is gone, and whither she hath carried my heart I know not. Sealing. what talkest thou of sealing? I have set my hand, my seal, my heart and all to the love of her. She is gone away with this deed of gift. It is delivered before witness. It is enrolled. I have acknowledged a fine. I have suffered her to recover against me; and delivered her peaceable possession. The Law is at an end, what else would you have me seal? I can give her no further assurance. her counsel cannot devise it. why do you trouble me with unnecessary requests?  Par. 
O my good friend Insatiato recall thyself like a wise man. thou speakest like a man distracted. go with me, and take a little rest. It will not be long before she come to this place again. We will send your Page to find her.  Insa. 
A little rest I warrant you. Go? you are still upon going. Go whither you will, I will not stir a foot from hence. What if she come in our absence, and go away discontented? then shall I never see nor hear her again. No: here I lost her, here I will find her, or lose myself.  Par. 
But you will trouble and hinder other actors that have parts here to play as well as you.  Insa. 
Actors. what actors? Is this a stage? Is this a play? no. 'tis a game in earnest. 'tis no jest, 'tis love in sadness. Let them come that come will: if any come but my love, I have nothing to say to them. Do you as you think good.  Par. 
Nay, if you stay, I will not go. I will not leave my friend so.   

Act. 7.  
SCEN. 2.  Intrat Antonio, Simplo, Purgato with a cloak-bag full under his arm, all booted, spurred, and riding rods. 
Have you locked up all the doors, and delivered the foul linen to be washed?  Sim 
All is safe, and every thing done.  Anto. 
Have you given the cobblers wife the 7 eggs we left at breakfast?  Sim. 
She hath them.  Anto. 
This is but ill husbandry to lose 7 eggs at a clap, and my belly not very full.  Sim. 
Sir, they are well bestowed, they will do the poor woman good, and you have eaten pretty well.  Anto. 
I have not eaten so well as you think for. And they are not fit meat for her mouth: some grosser meat would do her more good.  Sim. 
I warrant you Sir, she can eat an egg without surfeiting, as well as the finest Lady in this Land.  Anto. 
Come on, since 'tis done, let them go: but (he steps forward, and they follow, but presently comes back, and saith )I cannot ride my journey contentedly until I have these eggs. Simplo, fetch them again. Tell the woman, she shall have as many or more another time.  Sim. 
turns to the people, saying .Now must I fetch these eggs from the poor woman against my nature. Exit & cito redit with 7 eggs. Anto. takes them & exit. Simple goeth on saying ,I was never ashamed of a master before. There are few times that we ride forth, but a roasted rabbit, a piece of chief, or a dry breast of mutton is trussed up in the cloak-bag, especially when we lie at an Inn the next night (as now we shall.) And but for fowling the cloak-bag, and his clothes, we had carried these eggs now.  Pur. 
There is no such stuff now in the cloak-bag I trow? If I thought there were, I would throw it to the dogs rather than it should ride behind me.  Sim. 
Is there not? 'tis a great chance then; & I am much deceived if there be none: for there were some scraps left yesternight, and I find them not in any room in the house.  Pur. 
That shallbe tried by and by. Be these his tricks? though I be his horse-keeper, I'll carry no coals nor bones neither I trow. (he undoth an end of the cloak-bag, and there takes out a napkin full of pieces of bread, a quarter of a breast of mutton, a piece of boiled beef, a pudding, a bone of a loin of veal: that he unpinneth, and lifting it up by one corner, let's all fall, and presently catcheth at them with his hands upon the ground, scrambling every way as he would catch at a Rat, saying.) What's become of her? take heed gentlewomen she get not up. I swear, I had almost catched her. Was there not a Rat there? Masters, you below, came she not that way?  Sim. 
laugheth, and saith. How now Purgato. What, art thou at span-counter with Rats? I perceive thou wouldest have fought with any Rat in London rather then she should have be guiled thee of thy provender.  Pur. 
My provender? the dogs shall eat it, before any bit shall come in my mouth. How came he by these scraps, and what would he do with them?  Sim. 
Thou art but a novice Purgato. and hadst as much wit when thou suckedst (I think) as now. And beside for that thou camest to him but yesterday (in a manner) art ignorant of his fashions. I will instruct thee. The night before he rides from London, he will invite some of his acquaintance to supper with him (at their own charge more than his) than the remnant he packeth up thus. And at the next Inn he lodgeth in (if it be two days thence) he eats these cates under the colour of a little joint there dressed. And by this means he is counted at his Inn a very small meatman, but everywhere else a tall trencherman. But thou must understand the chamberlain and tapster are sent down when these dainties are in devouring.  Pur. 
But do you eat any of this dainty trash with him?  Sim. 
Or else I must go hungry to bed, and ride empty the next day.  Pur. 
As true as I live, he shall never bring me to this gear. And the next time he makes such a mess, I'll provide sauce: for I'll put a fresh horse-turd in the midst. And my trotting horse will soon season it all alike.  Intrat Ant. Anto. 
Come away, I have eaten four of these eggs, the rest I have put in bran to preserve against the next Term: but what's here? how came this meat here? methinks I should know these pieces.  Pur. 
It may be so Sir, but I did never see the like.  Anto. 
Why so?  Pur. 
As I had the cloak-bag under mine arm, I felt a thing stir within it: and in searching, I found these scraps, and among them an huge Rat. And she went away invisible: for I am sure we could not see which way she ran, nor could I catch her, do what I could, and yet I scambled at her with both my hands.  Anto. 
Why do you not gather up the meat, and put it up again?  Pur. 
What? and the Rat had pissed on it for fear, and it stinks too bad.  Anto. 
How canst thou tell that a Rat had pissed on it, when you confess you did see no Rat?  Pur. 
No, not which way she ran away. But if yonder boy had gaped wide enough, he might have catched her in his mouth: and do you think I saw not a Rat? I am sure there was a Rat, for my mind gave me so. And further, I had like to catched her. All this company can tell what a course I had at her, if you will not believe me.  Anto. 
Go to, go to. You are a fool. Put them up and let us away.  Pur. 
I were a fool indeed, and a beast too, if I would put them up.  Anto. 
I bid you put them up like a fool as you are.  Pur. 
I cannot put them up like a fool, nor I will not.  Anto 
Thou shalt put them up, or serve me no longer.  Pur. 
With all my heart master, I'll turn you off at this instant. Here is witness enough I have given you lawful warning.  Exit. Anto. 
Gather up this meat Simplo, thou and I will fare the better. 'tis but sending this knaves horse down by the Carrier. Or else I'll drive him with his load, he shallbe the sumpter horse.  Simplo gathers them up, and puts them in the napkin, and pings them up, puts them into the cloak bag. Exeunt Antonio & Simplo.  

ACT. 7.  
SCEN. 2.  Parv. 
How lik'st thou this sport Insatiato? hath it diverted thy thoughts a little?  Insa. 
It was some recreation I must needs say: but my fit is coming on apace. Intrat Levitia .And look where she comes. Now I tremble with fear of a deadly doom; but I must speak howsoever I speed. Welcome sweet Mistress. Now kill, or keep me alive with your answer.  Lev. 
Your questions sir (if I forget not) were, what was my name, and what order I purpose to enter. My name is Levitia. And my desire is to be a Nun of my mother's order. But if my virginity were not of full age; and Maidenhead a dangerous burden, I would be a Nun of a straighter order.  Insa. 
Your mother's order? what order is that? I never heard of a Nun have a child, no husband, and yet continue in Cloister, and a Nun before she had a child.  Lev. 
My mother vowed chastity, and after that had a child by her husband.  Insa. 
Why Levitia? this is a riddle, and a wonder to me; yet this English I pick out of it, that you may have a husband as your mother had. And then if it please you, I may be your ghostly father after the fashion of this country: but how, or why your mother or you should vow chastity, I see not, nor would I be married to such a Nun.  Pur. 
Alas Insatiato, I perceive thou art simple in this business, or else not yet come to thyself again. Levitia speaks well, but thy capacity is very muddy. Wouldst thou not have thy wife vow chastity, but be an harlot? there is chastity and continency among married folk, so long as they be faithful each to other. But virginity goes further: and that is sequestered continency during life, not admitting company for procreation.  Insa. 
I understand it now (thanks to thee Parvagracio) but this creature would have delayed me longer, and dulled my wits without mercy.  Enter Pestifero, and whispers Insatiato, to whom in anger he answereth, either let them stay, or tear the writings, I cannot yet come. Exit Pestif. 
But I thank her yet for the kind order she hath made to be of her mother's order. I hope (sweet Mistress Levitia) you will hear no motion to overthrow this order again. And now tell me, what say you to my vow, which in all equity must be performed. You see I was content (though much against my mind) that you should have kept your vow of virginity, (if so had stood your resolution) now I appeal to your own court for justice, and hope you will give as good way to the fulfilling of my vow, which is never to leave your service and company.  Lev. 
I heard you talk at random of such a thing. Many such (I doubt not) you have made, and quickly broken; and this of the same mettle, & so will prove as brittle. courtier's vows of this nature are but words, a little more stiffly blown out of their mouths, than the rest of their speech, but come no nearer their hearts. The gunner puts a little more powder in the gun to make it carry the shot further, but hits the mark no whit the righter: So they drive their vows with a little stronger breath, but their intention is not the straighter.  Insa. 
Indeed I confess that I have sometimes done as you say: but now my heart is right, and my meaning direct.  Lev. 
How shall that appear to me?  Par. 
I dare undertake (Lady Levitia) he means justly by you: for I have seen him in a dangerous passion when you left our company, which if you had heard, standing in some secret place, you could not but have compassion on him. or else you were very disdainful and cruel. Besides I know it is a great matter that would stay him so long as he hath talked with you from dispatching a business of great importance, as you may partly perceive by the messenger coming so often in the mean time to have him away.  Lev. 
Sir, a seconder of a tale makes many times an incredible thing believed. And for your testimony, I give him credit the better, and perhaps I was within sight and hearing too, when this gentleman was so lovesick as you speak of, which made me in very pity come the sooner in to relieve him. And I would not have you think Parvagracio that I am disdainful, for that winneth nothing but hatred: nor am I cruel, for that is ever paid home with extreme misery. Now yet am I proud (which vice you touched not) for that is derided of all wise people, but my fear and doubt was always to be deceived.  Insa. 
Here is my hand I will never deceive you.  Lev. 
Here is my hand I will never leave you. But what a fool was I? I should have agreed for maintenance and jointure before I had been handfast.  Insa. 
That's no matter, I'll perform as well as if I were bound hand and foot. I will allow you 10l a year for pings, 5l for shoes, 15l for stockings, garters, bodies, and girdles, 50l for gowns, petticoats and such like: 20l for all sorts of linen and new fashions, this is 100l a year, and is as much as my living will afford. And for performance of this any friend of yours shall have a statute upon all the land I have. And for your jointure, I will give good assurance, that the longer liver of us two shall possess all I have, If I die not worth a groat.  Lev. 
I like all well but my allowance for pins: it is not enough: for it is a base fashion nowadays to use cufhnets and save pings. The very warmth of our bodies, will change their colour in three hours, and they willbe crooked with pulling off, fie upon them: but I'll be a good housewife otherwise, and get as much by other means as shall piece out this pension to make it serve. Sirrah, I have skill in Physic, I can cure the coult euill in any man. And if he be never so lean, and rawboned, I can so diet him in half a year, that he will be fed until he grow purse-sick. And for thee (sweet heart) be of good cheer, for thou shalt never die (without a great chance) as long as I live. For I can play a trick, that if thou be never so cold, or frozen almost to death, I can make thee lukewarm in half an hour.  Insa. 
(Embraceth and kisseth her )Ha may lively Levitia, we cannot choose but thrive if thou hast these trades. But is thy portion in sure hands?  Lev. 
Fear nothing of that, you shall have me and my portion at an instant, all together ready bagged.  Insa. 
Best of all, than it requires no telling Here is a token for thee my chicken.  Lev. 
What? knives? O, I will not take them in any wise, they will cut love.  Insa. 
No, no: if they cut any thing, they will cut away unkindness.  Lev. 
Pardon me (good Sir) you shall not give them me. If needs you will that I wear them, do you lose, and I will find them.  Insa. 
That's a toy of all toys. That were fitter for a stage than a wedding.  Lev, 
Indeed you shall not deny me this first request, I pray you lose them.  Insa. 
Well, 'tis no news to be made a fool by a woman. I'll do it, if it were worse.  Then he walks about and drops them down, and she comes after and takes them up. saying. Lev. 
This is as it should be: now I have deceived destiny.  Par. 
This is Superstitch my shoes, now he hath fooled a foppery. And you have found a foolery.  Lev. 
You mock this Parvagracio. I warrant you do not think it evil luck if the salt fall toward you.  Par. 
But I do if nobody overthrow it.  Le. 
What if a Hare cross your way? is that nothing neither?  Par. 
That's evil luck indeed if I have no dogs to course her.  Insa. 
Parvagracio. I prithee lead Levitia to my lodging. I must crave pardon to go about a special business which concerns all my worth: but we will dispatch quickly and follow. And meet me the next way Parvagracio we must have your help. I'll go before.  Lev. 
In any case look to the main chance, for now you have a clog. It is the first gift every wife gives her husband.  Exeunt Parv. & Levitia. Insa. 
Now boy. we must about these bonds sealing to put us in suits for this wedding we shall sure thrive now. Two such bargains gone through in one day. A stranger for a wife and rags for our wealth. We cannot want after these matches. I could have found in my heart to asked her some money and missed this ragged money. But what if she have none? she saith I shall have her and all ready bagged. Perhaps she means that herself is ready bagged to my hand I cannot tell: there be such tricks in the world. I doubt I am utterly undone with this foolish match.  Infae. 
Why sir, if you be let it not trouble you, I hope you shall have better luck in greater matters, & yet if she have a good portion you are happy, if she have none, yet you may be even with her if it please you although she prove a roaring girl.  Insa. 
Canst thou tell which way to be even with her?  Infae. 
marry to have as little as she. And if I were as you I would serve her so, teach her to come empty handed to a man of your spending.  Insa. 
Well: we must make the most of her that I can now I have her: and take no care for any thing. that's the way to live long and leave nothing.   

ACT. 7.  
SCEN. 3.  Intrat Simplo. 
Gentlemen (you two I mean M. Securus and Sir Hermito) my master entreats you both to come to his chamber for a short space, he will go twice so fair for you any other time.  Exeunt Insa. & Infael. Secu 
Thank your master, we have dined already, and can eat nothing: another time we will see him if we have no business.  Sim. 
O you mistake it Sir neither now, nor any other time for eating: there is no meat: my Master does not vie to quilt his friends stomachs with too much meat. No, he would speak with you about a note he hath caused to be drawn he will desire you to peruse it, and do him a favour it is in the nature of a certificate.  Secu. 
Truly he shall have no hand of mine to any writing nor to any purpose, nor for my credit's sake will I come in his company. I do imagine what it is. He knoweth that we hear so much evil of him that he doubts we will speak as we find. And therefore he would have us give commendations of him to some friend of ours in some small request which he never means to sue for. But this our good report he will keep by him partly to stop our mouths (hoping we will not speak contrary to our testimony in writing, and partly for his credit to be showed upon every occasion against all that have cause to speak evil of him. Let him content himself we refuse to come near him.  Her. 
Honest friend: I marvel with what conscience thou canst serve one that is so generally counted dishonest.  Sim. 
marry Sir with as wide and large a conscience as any man hath, and as thoroughly tentered. My master & I are no niggards of our conscience. Besides I am bound by my 100l to serve him.  Her. 
Thou wert as good lose thy 100l at first, as at last for he will in the end deceive thee of it.  Sim. 
If he do then I hope he will teach me cunning worth 100l to deceive others. & so I may double my 100l. For I do not think but he hath gotten many 100l with art. And I'll never leave him tell I get all his tricks and now he hath made me free he will use me as his fellow.  Her. 
By that means thou wilt accompany him to hell.  Sim. 
Down the lane to the Devil. Nay an we go to no worse place then Hell I care not: for I do not think but my master hath craft enough for any Devil on 'em all.  Her. 
But there he shall meet with his craft's master.  Sim. 
What? master my master in craft? that were somewhat strange, yet I'll believe any thing but that. Well I shall tell him you will not come. And what's the reason you will not come? I have almost forgotten.  Her. 
marry because at our baptism we vowed to renounce the infernal Spirit. And now upon our own experience and judgement we abandon all incarnate Devils.  Sim 
Abandon? what's that? if I can observe that word right, I shall carry the rest well. I know what you mean by a carnation devil.  Exit. Her. 
What do you judge of these passages M. Securus?  Secu 
Surely Sir, it is hard upon the sudden to deliver a true sentence upon so many contrarieties as this day we have heard. But briefly I think they ought all to be duced unto two main heads of Good and Bad. and of the worst to choose the least: and of the better take the most.  Her. 
In part I dissent from you but in part I agree. If we be constrained to choose among things which are evil it is best to permit the least: but if a man have freedom then the best choice is to refuse evil be it never so little. Among the several discourses this day acted. I note many vices veiled over with froth, and flourish of words, but the same again unmasked with substantial matter, and laid naked to disgrace. So it seemeth they are not propounded to imitate, but set forth to be shamed. They are painted in colours but in a map of mischief: they have some patrons and followers, but such as run to ruin. They are brought forth to be rued; but to manifest their ugliness. They come not here to be liked, but loathed; not to be favoured, but derided. Not allowed in private, but in public to be condemned. So I hope that all wise hearers will avoid the sins and abuses here touched (which are many) and follow good counsel if they heard any. Which that they may do my part is to pray to the giver of wisdom. And so Sir, wishing much prosperity to your charitable endeavours, I take leave, and the next way to my poor quiet Cell.  Exit & Securus sequitur. Intrat Proberio. 
 
 
 
 Exit   

epilogus.  
NOw that your patience hath permitted us to bring unto an end this present Dialogue, we stand in good hope of your clemency, that no more offence will be taken at any word or action passed then we had meaning to give, which we protest was none at all. For it were against reason and our own ends to drive hence that company, which we wish rather doubled, then out of it one to be spared. It resteth that we render you very humble and hearty thanks. And that all our hearts pray for the King,  and his families enduring happiness, and our country's perpetuall welfare. Si placet plaudite.  
FINIS.