THis Play, called THE wits, as it was Acted without offence, may be Printed, not otherwise.  
19. january 1635. HENRY HERBERT.   

THE wits.  
A Comedy, PRESENTED AT THE Private House in Black Friars, by his Majesty's Servants.  
The Author WILLIAM D'AVENANT, Servant to Her Majesty.  
LONDON, Printed for RICHARD MEIGHEN, next to the Middle Temple in Fleetstreet. 1636.   

TO THE CHIEFLY Beloved of all that are Ingenious, and Noble, ENDYMION PORTER, of his Majesty's Bedchamber.  
SIR,  
THough you covet not acknowledgements, receive what belongs to you by a double title: your goodness hath preserved life in the Author; then rescued his work from a cruel Faction; which nothing but the forces of your reason, and your reputation could subdue. If it become your pleasure now, as when it had the advantage of presentation on the Stage, I shall be taught, to boast some merit in myself; but with this inference; you still (as in that doubtful day of my trial) endeavour to make show of so much justice, as may countenance the love you bear to  
Your most obliged, and thankful humble Servant, WILLIAM DAVENANT.   

TO THE READER OF Mr. WILLIAM D'AVENANT'S Play.  
IT hath been said of old, that Plays are Feasts,  
Poets the Cooks, and the Spectators Guests,  
The Actors Waiters: From this simile,  
Some have derived an unsafe liberty  
To use their Judgements as their Tastes, which choose  
Without control, this Dish, and that refuse:  
But Wit allows not this large Privilege,  
Either you must confess, or feel its edge;  
Nor shall you make a currant inference  
If you transfer your reason to your sense:  
Things are distinct, and must the same appear  
To every piercing Eye, or well-tuned Ear.  
Though sweets with yours, sharps best with my taste meet,  
Both must agree this meat's or sharp or sweet:  
But if I sent a stench or a perfume,  
Whilst you smell nought at all, I may presume  
You have that sense imperfect: So you may  
Affect a sad, merry, or humorous Play,  
If, though the kind distaste or please, the Good  
And Bad, be by your Judgement understood;  
But if, as in this Play, where with delight  
I feast my Epicurean appetite  
With relishes so curious, as dispense  
The utmost pleasure to the ravished sense,  
You should profess that you can nothing meet  
That hits your taste, either with sharp or sweet,  
But cry out, 'tis insipid; your bold Tongue  
May do its Master, not the Author wrong;  
For Men of better palate will by it  
Take the just elevation of your Wit.  
T. CAREW.   

THE prologue.  
Bless me you kinder Stars! How are we thronged?  
Alas! whom, hath our long sick-Poet wronged,  
That he should meet together in one day  
A Session and a Faction at his Play?  
To judge, and to Condemn: For't cannot be  
Amongst so many here, all should agree.  
Then 'tis to such vast expectation raised,  
As it were to be wondered at, not praised:  
And this, good faith Sir Poet (if I've read  
Customs, or Men) strikes you, and your Muse dead!  
Conceive now too, how much, how oft each Ear  
Hath surfeited in this our Hemisphere,  
With various, pure, eternal Wit; and than  
My fine young Comic Sir, y'are killed again.  
But 'bove the mischief of these fears, a sort  
Of cruel Spies (we hear) intend a sport  
Among themselves; our mirth must not at all  
Tickle, or stir their Lungs, but shake their Gall.  
So this joined with the rest, makes me again  
To say, You and your Lady Muse within  
Will have but a sad doom; and your trim Brow  
Which longed for wreaths, you must wear naked now;  
'Less some resolve out of a courteous pride,  
To like and praise what others shall deride:  
So they've their humour too; and we in spite  
Of our dull Brains, will think each side i'th' right.  
Such is your pleasant judgements upon Plays,  
Like Parallels that run straight, though several ways.   

The Persons of the Comedy.  

Palatine the Elder, Richly Landed, and a Wit.  
Palatine the Younger, A Wit too, but lives on his exhibition in Town.  
Sir Morglay Thwack, A humorous rich old Knight.  
Sir Tyrant Thrift, Guardian to the Lady Ample.  
Meager, A Soldier newly come from Holland  
Pert, His Comrade.  
Engine, Steward to Sir Tyrant Thrift.  
The Lady Ample, An Inheretrix, and Ward to Sir Tyrant Thrift.  
Lucy, Mistress to the Younger Palatine.  
Ginet, Woman to the Lady Ample.  
Snore, A Constable.  
Mistress Snore, His wife.  
Mistress Queasy, Her Neighbour.  
Watchmen, &c.   
The Scene LONDON.   
THE WITS.  

ACT. 1. SCEN. 1.  Enter Young Palatine, Meager, Pert. Young Palatine. 
WElcome ashore Meager! Give me thy hand!  
'tis a true one, and will no more forsake  
A Bond, or Bill, than a good Sword; a hand  
That will shift for the Body, till the Laws  
Provide for both.  Meag. 
Old Wine, and new Clothes Sir,  
Make you wanton! D'you not see Pert, my Comrade?  Young Pallat. 
Ambiguous Pert! hast thou danced to the Drum too?  
Could a Taffeta scarf, a long ostrich whing,  
A stiff Iron Doublet, and a Brazeele Pole  
Tempt thee from cambric sheets, fine active Thighs,  
From Caudles where the precious Amber swims?  Pert. 
Faith, we have been to kill, we know not whom,  
Nor why: Led on to break a Commandment,  
With the consent of Custom and the Laws.  Meag. 
Mine was a certain inclination Sir  
To do mischief, where good men of the jury,  
And a dull Congregation of grey Beards  
Might urge no tedious Statute 'gainst my life!  Young Pallat. 
Nothing but Honour could seduce thee, Pert!  
Honour! which is the hope of the Youthful,  
And the old soldier's wealth, a jealousy  
To the Noble, and mystery to the wise.  Pert. 
It was Sir, no Geographical fancy  
(Cause in our Maps, I liked this Region here  
More than that Country lying there) made me  
Partial which to fight for.  Young Pallat. 
True, sage Pert.  
What is't to thee whether one Don Diego  
A Prince, or Hans van Holme, Fritter seller  
Of Bombell, do Conquer that Parapet,  
Redout, or Town, which thou ne'er sawst before?  Pert. 
Not a brass Thimble to me! but Honour!—  Young Pallat. 
Why right! else wherefore shouldst thou bleed for him,  
Whose Money, Wine, nor Wench, thou ne'er hast used?  
Or why destroy some poor Root-eating Soldier,  
That never gave thee the lie, denied to pledge  
Thy Cockatrice's health, ne'er spit upon  
Thy Dog, jeered thy Spur-leather, or returned  
Thy Toothpick ragged, which he borrowed whole?  Pert. 
Never to my knowledge!  Meag. 
Comrade! 'tis time—  Young Pallat. 
What, to unship your Trunks at Billings gate?  
Fierce Meager! why such haste? do not I know,  
That a Mouse yoked to a Peascod, may draw  
With the frail Cordage of one hair, your Goods  
About the World?  Pert. 
Why we have Linen Sir!  Yo. Pallat. 
As much Sir as will fill a Tinder Box,  
Or make a Frog a shirt. I like not friends,  
This quiet, 'more jest posture of your Shoulders!  
Why stir you not, as you were practising  
To Fence, or do you hide your Cattle, lest  
The Skipper make you pay their passage over?  Pert. 
Know Palatine! Truth is a naked Lady,  
She will show all! Meager, and I have not—  Young Pall. 
The Treasure of Saint Marks I believe Sir,  
Though you are as rich as cast serving-men,  
Or Bawds led thrice into Captivity!  Pert. 
Thou hast a heart of the right stamp; I find  
It is not comely in thine eyes, to see  
Us Sons of war walk by the pleasant Vines  
Of Gascoiny, as we believed the Grapes  
Forbidden Fruit: sneak through a Tavern with  
Remorse, as we had read the Alcharon,  
And made it our best Faith.  Meag. 
And abstain flesh,  
As if our English Beef were all reserved  
For Sacrifice.  Pert 
Whilst Colon keeps more noise  
Than Mariners at Plays, or Apple-wives  
That wrangle for a Sieve!  Meag. 
Contribute, come!  Young Pallat. 
Stand there close on you lives! here in this house  
Lives a rich old Hen, whose young Egg. (though not  
Of her own laying) I have in the Embers!  
She may prove a Morsel for a discreet Mouth,  
If the kind Fates have but the leisure to  
Betray the old one.  Pert. 
Palatine.  
No plots upon generation; we two  
Have fasted so long, that we cannot think  
Of begetting any thing, unless  
Like Cannibals, we might eat our own Issue.  Young Pallat. 
I say close; shrink in your Morions! go!  Meager. 
Why hidden thus? a Soldier may appear.  Young Pallat. 
Yes in a sutler's Hut on the Payday:  
But do you know the silence of this house,  
The gravity and awe? here dwells a Lady,  
That hath not seen a street, since good King Harry  
Called her to a Masque: she is more devout  
Than a Weaver of Banbury, that hopes  
T'entice Heaven (by singing) to make him Lord  
Of twenty Looms. I never saw her yet:  
And to arrive at my preferment first,  
In your sweet company will (I take it)  
Add but little to my hopes. Retire! go!  They step aside, whilst he calls between the Hangings Pert. 
We shall obey, but do not tempt us now  
With sweet meats for the neither palate! do not—  Young Pallat. 
What Lucy! Luce! now is the old Beldame  
Misleading her to a Cushion; where she  
Must pray, and sigh, and fast, until her knees  
Grow smaller than her Knuckles. Lucy! Luce.  
No hope! she is undone! she'll number o'er  
As many Orisons, as if she had  
A Bushel of Beads to her Rosary!  
Lucy! my April love! my Mistress speak!—  Enter Lucy. Lucy. 
Palatine, for heaven's sake keep in your voice!  
My cruel Aunt will hear, and I am lost.  Young Pallat. 
What can she hear, when her old ears are stuffed  
With as much warm wax, as will seal nine Leases?  
What a pox does she listening upon earth?  
is't not time for her t'affect privacy?  
To creep into a close dark Vault, there gossip.  
With worms, and such small tame creatures, as Heaven  
Provided to accompany old People?  Lucy. 
Still bettered unto worse! but that my heart  
Consents not to disfigure thee, thou wouldst be torn  
To pieces numberless as sand, or as  
The doubts of guilt, or love, in Cowards are!  Young Pal. 
How now Luce! from what strange coast this storm! hah!  Lucy. 
Thou dost outdrink the youth of Norway at  
Their Marriage feasts, outswear a puny Gamester  
When his first misfortune rages out quarrel,  
One that rides post, and is stopped by a Cart:  
Thy walking hours are later in the night,  
Than those which Drawers, Traitors, or Constables  
Themselves do keep; for Watchmen know thee better  
Than their lantern! and here's your surgeon's Bill,  
Your kind thrift (I thank you) hath sent it me  
To pay, as if the poor exhibition  
My Aunt allows for Aprons, would maintain  
You in Cerecloths.— Gives him a paper.  Meger. 
Can the Daughters of Brabant  
Talk thus when Younker-gheek leads'em to a Stove?  Pert. 
I say (Meager) there is a small parcel  
Of Man, that rebels more than all the rest  
Of his body, and I shall need (if I  
Stay here) no elixir of Beef to exalt  
Nature, though I were leaner than a groat!  Young Pallat. 
This Surgeon's a Rogue (Luce) a fellow Luce  
That hath no more care of a Gentleman's  
Credit, then of the Lint, he hath twice used!  Lucy. 
Well Sir, but what's that Instrument he names?  Young Pall 
He writes down here for a tool of Injection  
Luce, a small water Engine which I bought  
For my tailor's Child to squirt at Prentices!  Luce. 
I Sir, he sins more against wit then Heaven,  
That knows not how t'excuse what he hath done!  
I shall be old at twenty Palatine,  
My grief to see thy manners, and thy mind  
Hath wrought so much upon my heart!  Young Pallat. 
I'd as live keep our Marriage Supper  
In a Churchyard, and beget our Children  
In a Coffin, as hear thee prophesy;  
Luce, thou art drunk Luce; far gone in Almond Milk,  
Kiss me!—  Pert. 
Now I dissolve like an Eringo?  Meager. 
He's ploughing o'the Indies, good Gold appear!  Young Pallat. 
I am a new man Luce; thou shalt find me  
In a Geneva-band, that was reduced  
From an old Alderman's Cuff; no more hair left  
Then will shackle a flea; this debauched Vineyard,  
I will reclaim to comely Bow and Arrows,  
And shoot with Haberdashers at Finsbury,  
And be thought the Grandchild of Adam-Bell!  
And more (my Luce) hang at my velvet Girdle,  
A Book wrapped in a green Dimity Bag,  
And squire thy untoothed Aunt to an exercise.  Lucy. 
Nothing but strict Laws, and age will tame you.  Young Pallat. 
What money hast thou Luce?  Lucy. 
I there's your business.  Young Pallat. 
It is the business of the world: Injuries grow.  
To get it, justice sits for the same end;  
Men are not wise without it; for it makes  
Wisdom known; and to be a Fool, and poor,  
Is next t'old Aches and bad Fame; 'tis worse  
Than to have six new Creditors, they each  
Twelve Children, and not bread enough to make  
The Landlord a toast, when he calls for Ale  
And Rent. Think on that, and rob thy aunt's Trunks  
Ere she hath time to make an Inventory.  Pert. 
A cunning Pioneer! he works to th'bottom.  Lucy. 
Hast thou no taste of Heaven? wert thou begot  
In a Prison, and bred up in a Galley?  Young Pallat. 
Luce! I speak like one that hath seen the Book  
Of Fate: I'm loath (for thy sake) to mount a Coach  
With two wheels; whilst the Damsels of the Shop  
Cry out, A goodly straight chined Gentleman!  
He dies, for robbing an attorney's Cloak-bag  
Of Copper-seals, foul Nightcaps, together  
With his wife's Bracelet of Mill-Testers!  Lucy. 
There Sir!— Flings him a Purse.  
'tis gold! my Pendants, carcanets, and Rings,  
My Christning Caudle-cup, and Spoons  
Are dissolved into that Lump. Nay, take all!  
And with it as much anger as would make  
Thy Mother write thee illegitimate!  
See me no more! I will not stay to bless  
My gift; lest I should teach my patience suffer  
Till I convert it into Sin. Exit.  Young Pallat. 
Temptations will not thrive. This Baggage sleeps  
Cross legged, and the Devil has no more power  
o'er that charm, than dead Men o'er their lewd Heirs.  
I must marry her, and spend my revenue  
In Cradles, Pins, and Soap! That's th'end of all  
That scape a deep River, and a tall Bough.  Meag. 
Palatine! How much?  Pert. 
Honourable Pall!  Young Pallat. 
Gentlemen, you must accept without gauging  
Your corporal Oaths, to repay in three days!  Pert. 
Not we (Pall) in three jubilees, fear not!  Young Pallat. 
Nor shall you charge me with loud vehemence  
(Thrice before company) to wait you in  
My chamber such a night; for then, a certain  
Drover of the South comes to pay you money!  Meag. 
On our new faiths!  Pert. 
On our Allegiance Pall!  Young Pall. 
Go then!— shift, and brush your skins well, d'you hear!  
Meet me at the new Play; fair, and perfumed!  
There are strange words hang on the lips of Rumor!  Pert. 
Language of joy dear Pall!  Young Pallat. 
This day is come  
To Town, the Minion of the womb (my Lads)  
My elder Brother, and he moves like some  
Assyrian Prince; his chariot's measure Leagues  
Witty, as youthful Poets in their wine!  
Bold as a Centaur at a Feast, and kind  
As Virgins that were ne'er beguiled with love!  
I seek him now, meet and triumph!  
Meager, King Pall!— Exeunt Omnes.  
Pert.  Enter Sir Morglay Thwack, Eld. Palatine, new and richly clothed, buttoning themselves. Eld. Pallat. 
Sir Morglay! come! the hours have wings, and you  
Are grown too old, t'overtake them: The Town  
Looks( methinks) as it would invite the Country  
To a Feast.  Thwack. 
At which Sergeants and their Yeomen  
Must be no Waiters (Palatine) lest some  
O'the Guests pretend business: how dost like me?  Eld. Pallat. 
As one, old women shall no more avoid,  
Than they can warm Furs or muskadel!  Thwack, 
Palatine! to have a volatile Ache,  
That removes oftener than the Tartars Camp;  
To have a stitch that fucks a man awry,  
Till he show crooked as a Chestnut Bough,  
Or stand in the deformed Guard of a Fencer;  
To have these hid in Flesh, that has lived sinful  
Fifty long years; yet husband, so much strength  
As could convey me hither, fourscore Miles  
On a design of Wit, and glory may  
Be Registered for a strange Northern Act.  Eld. Pallat. 
I cannot boast those Noble Maladies  
As yet; but Time (dear Knight) as I have heard,  
May make man's knowledge bold upon himself.  
We travel in the grand cause! These smooth Rags,  
These jewels too, that seem to smile ere they  
Betray, are certain silly snares, in which  
Your Lady-wits, and their wise Compeers-Male  
May chance be caught!  Enter Young Palatine. Young Pallat. 
Your welcome (Noble Brother)  
Must be hereafter spoke, for I have lost  
With glad haste to find you, much of my Breath!—  Eld. Pallat. 
Your joy becomes you it hath Courtship in't!  Young Pallat. 
Sir Morglay Thwack! I did expect to see  
The Archer Cymbeline, or old King Lud  
Advance his Falchion here again, ere you  
'Mongst so much smoke, diseases, Law, and noise!  Thwack. 
What your Town gets by me, let'em lay up  
For their Orphans, and Record in their Annals!  
I come to borrow where I'll never lend,  
And buy what I'll never pay for.  Young Pallat. 
Not your Debts?  Thwack. 
No Sir, though to a poor Brownists widow!  
Though she sigh all night, and have the next morning  
Nothing to drink, but her own Tears.  Eld. Pallat. 
Nor shalt thou lend money to a sick friend,  
Though the sad worm lie mortgaged in his bed  
For the hire of his Sheets.  Young Pallat. 
These are Resolves,  
That give me newer wonder than your Clothes;  
Why in such shining Trim, like Men that come  
From rifled Tents, loaden with victory?  Eld. Pal. 
Yes Brother, or like eager heirs new dipped  
In Ink, that sealed the day before in haste,  
Lest Parchment should grow dear. Know Youth we come  
To be the business of all Eyes, to take  
The wall of our St. George on his Feast day!  Thwack. 
Yes, and then embark at Dover, and do  
The like to St. Dennis: All this (young Sir)  
Without charge too; I mean, to us; we bring  
A humorous odd Philosophy to Town  
That says, pay nothing!  Young Pal. 
Why, where have I lived?  Eld. Pal. 
Brother be calm, and edify! But first  
Receive a Principle, never hereafter  
(From this warm breathing, till your last could sigh)  
Will I disburse for you again; Never!  Young Pal. 
Brother mine, if that be your Argument,  
I deny the major!  Thwack. 
Resist Principles?  El. Pal. 
Good faith, though you should send me more Epistles  
Than young Factors in their first voyage write  
Unto their short haired Friends; than absent Lovers  
Pen near their Marriage week, t'excuse the slow  
Arrival of the Licence, and the Ring,  
Not one clipped penny should depart my reach.  Young Pal. 
This Doctrine will not pass, how shall I live?  Eld. Pall. 
As we intend to do, by our good wits!  Young Pall. 
How, Brother, how?  Elder Pall. 
Truth is a pleasant knowledge;  
Yet you shall have her cheap, Sir Morglay here,  
(My kind Disciple) and myself, have leased  
Out all our Rents and Lands for pious uses!  Young Pall. 
What, Co-founders! give Legacies ere death!  
Palatine the pious, and St Morglay!  
Your names will sound but ill i'th' calendar.  
How long must this fierce raging zeal continue?  Elder Pall. 
Till we subsist here no more by our wit,  
Then we'll renounce the Town, and patiently  
Vouchsafe to reassume our Mother Earth,  
Lead on our Ploughs into their rugged walks  
Again, grope our young Heifers in the flank,  
And swagger in the wool, we shall borrow  
From our own flocks.  Thwack. 
But ere we go, we may  
From the vast treasure purchased by our wit,  
Leave here some Monument to speak our Fame.  
I have a strong mind to re-edify  
The decays of Fleet-Ditch, from whence I hear  
The roaring Vestals late are fled, through heat  
Of persecution.  Young Pal. 
What a small star have I,  
That never yet could light me to this way!  
Live by our wits?  Elder Pall. 
So live, that Usurers,  
Shall call their Moneys in, remove their Bank  
T' Ordinaries, Spring-garden, and Hyde-park,  
Whilst their glad Sons are left seven for their chance,  
At Hazard, Hundred, and all made at Sent;  
Three motley Cocks o'th' right Derby strain,  
Together with a Foal of Beggibrigge!  Thwa. 
Sir, I will match my Lord mayor's horse, make Jockeys  
Of his henchboys, and run 'em through Cheapside.  Eld. Pallat. 
What beauties Girls of feature govern now  
I'th' town? 'tis long since we did traffic here,  
In midnight whispers, when the Dialect  
Of love's loose Wit, is frighted into signs,  
And secret laughter stifled into smiles:  
When nothing's loud but the old Nurse's Cough!  
Who keeps the Game up, hah! who misled now?  Thwack. 
Not Sir, that if we woo, we'll be at charge  
For Looks; or if we marry, make a jointure,  
Entail Land on women? entail a Back,  
And so much else of Man, as Nature did  
Provide for the first wife.  Eld. Pallat. 
I could keep thee,  
Thy future Pride, thy Surfeits, and thy Lust,  
(I mean, in such a garb as may become  
A Christian Gentleman) with the sole Tithe  
Of Tribute, I shall now receive from Ladies.  Thwack. 
Your Brother, and myself have sealed to Covenants!  
The Female Youth o'th' town are his; but all  
From forty to fourscore, mine own: A widow  
(You'll say) is a wise, solemn, wary Creature;  
Though she hath lived toth' cunning of dispatch,  
Closed up nine husband's eyes, and have the wealth  
Of all their Testaments, in one Month Sir,  
I will waste her to her first Wedding-smock,  
Her single Ring, Bodkin, and velvet-muff.  Young Pallat. 
Your Rents exposed at home, for Pious uses  
Must expiate your behaviour here; Tell me,  
Is that the subtle plot you have on Heaven?  Thwack 
The worm of your worship's conscience would appear  
As big as a Conger, but a good eye  
May chance to find it slender as a Grig!  Young Pallat. 
Amazement knows no ease, but in demands,  
Pray tell me Gentlemen, to all this vast  
Designment (which so strikes my Ear) deduct  
You nought from your revenue, nought that may  
Like Fuel, feed the flame of your expense?  Eld. Pall. 
Brother, not so much as will find a jew  
Bacon to his Eggs: These gay tempting Weeds,  
These Eastern stones of cunning foil, bespoke  
'gainst our arrival here, together with  
A certain stock of Crowns in either's purse,  
Is all the charge that from our proper own,  
Begins or furthers the magnific plot,  
And of these Crowns, not one must be usurped  
By you.  Thwack. 
No relief, but Wit and good Counsel!  Eld. Pallat. 
The stock my Father left you, if your care  
Had purposed so discreet a course might well  
Have set you up i'th' Trade, but we spend light!  
Our Coach is yet unwheeled, Sir Morglay, come,  
let's suit those Friesland horse with our own strain!  Young Pallat. 
Why Gentlemen, will the design keep horses?  Thwack. 
May be Sir they shall live by their Wits too!  Young Pall. 
Their Masters are bad Tutors else; well, how  
You'll work the Ladies, and weak Gentry here  
By your fine gilded Pills, a Faith that is  
Not old may guess without distrust. But Sirs,  
The City (take't on my experiment)  
Will not be gulled!  Thwack. 
Not gulled? they dare not be  
So impudent! I say they shall be gulled,  
And trust, and break, and pawn their Charter too!  Young Pallat. 
Is it lawful (Brother) for me to laugh  
That have no money?  Eld. Pallat. 
Yes Sir, at yourself!  Young Pallat. 
Two that have tasted Nature's kindness Arts,  
And men, have shined in moving Camps; have seen  
Courts in their solemn business, and vain pride;  
Conversed so long i'th' town here, that you know  
Each Sign, and Pebble in the streets; for you  
(After a long retirement) to lease forth  
Your wealthy pleasant Lands, to feed john Crump,  
The Cripple, Widow Needy, and Abraham  
Sloth, the Beadsman of More-dale? Then (forsooth)  
Persuade yourselves to live here by your Wits.  Thwack 
Where we ne'er cheated in our Youth, we resolve  
To cozen in our Age.  Eld. Pallat. 
Brother, I came  
To be your wise example in the Arts  
That lead to thriving glory, and supreme life;  
Not through the humble ways wherein dull Lords  
Of Lands, and Sheep do walk; Men that depend  
On the fantastic winds on fleeting Clouds,  
On seasons more uncertain than themselves,  
When they would hope or fear; But you are warm  
In another's silk, and make your tame ease  
Virtue, call it content, and quietness!  Thwack 
Write Letters to your Brother! do! and be  
Forsworn, in every long Parenthesis,  
For twenty pound sent you in butcher's silver!  Eld. Pall. 
Rebukes are precious! cast them not away!  Young Pall. 
Neither of these Philosophers were borne  
To above five Senses; why then should they  
Have hope, to do things greater, and more new  
I'th' world, than I? This Devil Plenty thrusts  
Strange boldness upon Men! well, you may laugh  
With so much violence, till it consume  
Your breath! Though sullen want, the Enemy  
Of Wit, have sunk her low; if pregnant Wine  
Can raise her up, this day she shall be mine. Exit.   

ACT. 2. SCEN. 1.  Enter the Lady Ample, Engine, Ginet. Ampl. 
My Guardian horsed? this evening sayst thou Engine?  Engin. 
It's an hour (Madam) since he smelled the Town?  Ampl. 
sawst thou his slender empty leg in th'stirrup?  
His Ivory Box on his smooth Ebon staff  
New civeted, and tied to's gouty wrist?  
With his warped face close buttoned in his Hood,  
That Men may take him for a Monk disguised,  
And fled post from a Pursuivant!  Engin. 
(Madam) beware I pray, lest th'Age and cunning  
He is Master of, prepare you a Revenge,  
And such as your fine wit shall ne'er entreat  
Your patience to digest. Tomorrow night  
Th'extremest Minute of your Wardship is  
Expired, and we Magicians of the house  
Believe this hasty journey he hath ta'en  
Is to provide a Husband for your sheets!  Ampl. 
And such a one, as judgement and nine Eyes  
Must needs dislike, that's composition may  
Grow up to his own thrifty wish.  Eng. 
Madam.  
Your Arrow was well aimed; I call him Master,  
But I am Servant unto Truth, and You.  Ampl. 
He choose a Husband, fit to guide, and sway  
My Beauty's wealthy Dowry, and my heart?  
I'll make Election to delight myself:  
What composition strictest Laws will give;  
His Guardianship may take from the rich Bank  
My Father left, and not devour my Land.  Ginet. 
Your Ladyship has lived six years beneath  
His roof, therefore may guess the colour  
Of his heart, and what his brains do weigh.  
But Engine (Madam) is your humble Creature.  Ampl. 
I have bounty, Engine!  
And thou shalt largely taste it, when the next  
Fair Sun is set, for then my Wardship ends— Knocking within.  
That speaks command, or hast open the door.  Enter Lucy. 
Lucy! weeping my wench? melting thine Eyes,  
As they had trespassed against light, and thou  
Wouldst give them darkness for a punishment.  Lucy. 
Undone (Madam) without all hope, but what  
Your pity will vouchsafe to minister!  Ampl. 
Hast thou been struck by infamy? or com'st  
A Mourner from the Funeral of Love?  Lucy. 
I am the Mourner, and the Mourned; dead to  
myself; but left not rich enough to buy a Grave:  
My cruel Aunt hath banished me her Roof,  
Exposed me to the night, the winds, and what  
The raging Elements on wanderers lay,  
Left naked, as first Infancy or Truth.  Ginet. 
I could ne'er endure that old moist eyed Lady!  
methought she prayed too oft.  Amp. 
A mere receipt  
To make her long winded, which our devout  
Physicians now prescribe to defer death.  
But Lucy, can she urge no cause for this  
Strange wrath, that you would willingly conceal!  Lucy. 
Suspicions of my Chastity; which heaven  
Must needs resist as false; though she accused  
Me even in dream, where thoughts commit by chance,  
Not Appetite.  Amp. 
What ground had her suspect?  Lucy. 
Young Palatine (that wooed my heart until  
He gathered Fondness where he planted Love)  
Was fall'n into such want, as eager blood,  
And Youth could not endure, and keep the Laws  
Inviolate. I to prevent my fear,  
Sold all my jewels, and my trifling wealth  
Bestowed them on him; and she thinks a more  
Unholy consequence attends the gift.  Ampl. 
This Luce, is such Apostasy in Wit,  
As Nature must degrade herself in woman to  
Forgive? shall Love put thee to charge? couldst thou  
Permit thy Lover to become thy Pensioner?  Engin. 
Her sense will now be tickled till it ache!  Ampl. 
Thy feature and thy wit, are wealth enough  
To keep thee high in all those vanities  
That wild ambition, or expensive pride  
Perform in youth; but thou invert'st their use  
Thy Lover like the foolish Adamant,  
The steel; thou fiercely dost allure, and draw,  
To spend thy virtue, not to get by it.  Lucy. 
This Doctrine (Madam) is but new to me.  Ampl. 
How have I lived thinkst thou? e'en by my Wits!  
My Guardians contribution gave us Gowns;  
But cut from th'curtains of a carrier's bed:  
jewels we wore, but such as Potters wives  
Bake in the Furnace for their daughter's wrists!  
My woman's Smock's so course, as they were spun  
O'th' tackling of a Ship.  Ginet. 
A Coat of Male  
Quilted with wire, was soft sarsenet to 'em.  Ampl. 
Our diet, scarce so much as is prescribed  
To mortify; Two Eggs of Emmets poached  
A single Bird no bigger than a Bee,  
Made up a Feast.  Ginet. 
He had starved me, but that  
The greensickness took away my stomach!  Ampl. 
Thy disease (Ginet) made thee in love with Mortar,  
And thou eatst him up two foot of an old wall!  Engin. 
A privilege my Master only gave  
Unto her teeth, none else o'th' house durst do't.  Ampl. 
When (Lucy) I perceived this straightened life,  
Nature (my Steward) I did call t'account,  
And took from her Exchequer so much Wit  
As has maintained me since. I led my fine  
Trim bearded Males in a small subtle string  
Of my soft hair; made 'em to offer up,  
And bow, and laughed at the Idolatry.  Ginet. 
A jewel for a kiss, and that half ravished.  Lucy. 
I feel, I am inclined t'endeavour in  
A Calling (Madam) I'd be glad to live!  Ample. 
Know (Luce) this is no Hospital for Fools!  
My Bed is yours, but on condition Luce,  
That you redeem the Credit of your Sex;  
That you begin to tempt, and when the snare  
Hath caught the fowl, you plume him till you get  
More feathers than you lost to Palatine.  Lucy. 
I shall not waste my hours in winding Silk,  
Or shelling Peascods with your Ladyship!  Ampl. 
Frosts on my heart! what? give unto a Suitor!  
Know? I would fain behold, that silly Monarch,  
(Bearded Man!) that durst woo me with half  
So impudent a hope!  Eng. 
Madam, you are  
Not far from the possession of your wish,  
There is no language heard, no business now  
In town, but what proclaims th'arrival here  
(This morn) of th'elder Palatine, Brother  
To him you named, and with him such an old  
Imperial buskin Knight as th'Isle ne'er saw.  Amp. 
What's their design?  Eng. 
They will immure themselves  
With Diamonds, with all refulgent Stones,  
That merit price: ask 'em who pays? why Ladies!  
They'll feast with rich Provincial wines, who pays?  
Ladies. They'll shine in various habit, like  
Eternal bridegrooms of the day, ask 'em  
Who pays? Ladies. Lie with those Ladies too,  
And pay'em but with Issue-Male, that shall  
Inherit nothing but their wit, and do  
The like to Ladies, when they grow to age.  Luce. 
My ears received a taste of them before.  Ampl. 
Engine, how shall we see them? bless me, Engine,  
With thy kind voice.  Eng. 
Though Miracles are ceased,  
This (Madam's) in the power of Thought, and Time.  Ampl. 
I would kiss thee Engine, but for an odd  
Nice humour in my lips; they blister at  
Inferior breath! This Ring, and all my hopes  
Are thine; dear Engine now project, and live!  Ginet. 
I'd lose my Wedding to behold these Dagonets!  Ample. 
My guardian's out o' Town! let us triumph  
Like Caesars, till tomorrow night! thou know'st  
I'm then no more o'th' Family! I would  
Like a departing Lamp) before I leave  
You in the dark, spread in a glorious blaze!  Engin. 
Madam, command the Keys, the house, and me.  Ampl. 
Spoke like the bold Cophetua's Son!  
Let us contrive within to tempt 'em hither:  
Follow my Luce, restore thyself to Fame!— Ex. Eng. Amp. Gin. Young Palatine beckons Lucy from between the Hangings, as she is going.  Young Pall. 
Luce! Luce!  Lucy. 
Death on my Eyes! how came you hither?  Young Pallat. 
I'm Luce, a kind of peremptory Fly,  
Shift houses still to follow the sunbeams!  
I must needs play in the flames of thy beauty!  Lucy. 
Y'have used me with a Christian care, have you not?  Young Pallat. 
Come I know all! I'have been at thy aunt's house  
And there committed more disorder than  
A storm in a Ship, or a Canon Bullet  
Shot through a Kitchen among shelves of Pewter.  Lucy. 
This madness is not true I hope!  Young Pal. 
Yes Faith.  
Witness a shower of Malmsey Lees, dropped from  
Thy Ants own Urinal, on this new Morion!—  Lucy. 
Why you have seen her then?  Young Pallat. 
Yes, and she looks like the old Slut of Babylon  
Thou hast read of. I told her she must die.  
And her beloved Velvet-Hood be fold  
To some Dutch Brewer of Ratcliffe, to make  
His You Frowe slippers.  Lucy. 
Speak low! I am deprived  
By thy rash wine of all atonement now,  
Unto her after Legacies or Love!  Young Pallat. 
My Luce! be magnified! I am all plot!  
All Stratagem! My Brother is in town;  
My Lady Ample's Fame hath caught him Girl:  
I'm told he means an instant visit hither.  Lucy. 
What happiness from this?  Young Pallat. 
As he departs  
From hence, I'have laid two Instruments, Meager  
And Pert, that shall encounter his long ears:  
With tales less true than those of Troy, they shall  
Endanger him maugre his active wits,  
And mount thee little Luce, that thou mayst reach  
To dandle Fate, to soothe them till they give  
Us leave to make, or alter destinies!  Lucy. 
You are too loud! whisper your plots within. Exeunt  Enter Engine, Elder Palatine, Thwack. Engin. 
You call, and govern Gentlemen, as if  
Your business were above your haste, but know  
You where you are?  Eld. Pallat. 
Sir Tyrant Thrift dwells here!  
The Lady Ample is his Ward; she is  
Within, and we must see her; No excuses!  
she is not old enough to be locked up  
To say new Perukes, or purge for rheum.  Thwack. 
Tell her, that a young devout Knight, made grey  
By a charm (t'avoid temptation in others)  
Would speak with her.  Engin. 
I shall deliver you both,  
These Tigers hunt their prey with a strange nostril!  
Come unsent for so aptly to our wish?— Exit.  Elder Pallat. 
But this Sir Morglay will not do, In troth  
You break our Covenants.  Thwack. 
Why hear me plead!  Elder Pallat. 
From forty to fourscore, the written Law  
Runs so; this Lady's in her Nonage yet,  
And you to press into my company  
Where visitations are decreed mine own,  
Argues a heat that my rebukes must cool.  Thwa. 
What should I do? wouldst have me keep my chamber  
And mend Dark lanterns; invent steel Mattocks,  
Or weigh Gunpowder, solitude leads me  
To nothing less than Treason; I shall conspire  
To dig, and blow up all rather than sit still.  Elder Pallat. 
Follow your Task! you see how early I  
Have found this young Inheretrix, go seek  
The aged out; Bones, unto Bones! Like Cards  
Ill packed, shuffle yourselves together till  
You each dislike the game!  Thwack. 
'tis the cause I  
Come for; a withered Midwife, or a Nurse  
Who draws her lips together, like an eye  
That gives the cautionary wink, are those  
I would find here; so they be rich, and fat!—  Enter Ginet. Ginet. 
My Lady understands your haste, and she  
herself, consults now in affairs of haste,  
But yet will hastily approach, to see  
You Gentlemen, and then in haste return! exit.  Elder Pall. 
What's this the Superscription of a Packet?  Thwack. 
Now does my blood wamble! you! Sucket eater!  offers to follow her, Palatine stays him. Eld. Pall. 
These Covenants (Knight) will never be observed,  
I'll sue the forfeiture, leave you so poor  
Till for preferment you become an Eunuch,  
And sing a Treble; in a Chantry, Knight.  Enter Ample, Lucy, Ginet, Elder Palatine, and Thwak. address to kiss them, and are thrust back. Ample. 
Stay Gentlemen! good souls! they have seen (Lucy)  
The Country Turtles bill, and think our lips  
I'th' Town, and Court, are worn for the same use.  Lucy. 
Pray how do the Ladies there? poor Villagers  
They churn still, keep their Dairies, and lay up  
For Embroidered Mantles, against the Heirs birth!  Ample. 
Who is begot i'th' Christmas Holidays.  Eld. Pall. 
Yes surely, when the Spirit of Mince-Pie  
Reigns in the blood.  Ampl 
What? penny Gleek I hope's  
In fashion yet, and the treacherous foot  
Not wanting on the Table frame to jog  
The Husband, lest he lose the Noble that  
Should pay the grocer's Man, for Spice and Fruit!  Lucy. 
The good old butler shares too, with his Lady  
In the Box, bating for Candles that were burnt  
After the Clock struck Ten.  Thwack. 
He doth indeed,  
Poor Country Madams theyare in Subjection still,  
The beasts their husbands make 'em sit on three  
Legged stools, like homely Daughters of an Hospital,  
To knit socks for their cloven feet.  Eld. Pallat. 
And when these Tyrant! Husbands too, grow old  
(As they have still th'impudence to live long)  
Good Ladies they are fain to waste the sweet  
And pleasant seasons of the day, in boiling  
Jellies for them, and rolling little Pills  
Of cambric Lint to stuff their hollow teeth.  Lucy. 
And then the Evenings (warrant ye) they spend  
With mother Spectacle the curate's wife,  
Who does inveigh 'gainst curling and died Cheeks,  
Heaves her devout impatient nose at oil  
Of jessamin, and thinks powder of Paris more  
Profane than th'ashes of a Romish Martyr.  Ample. 
And in the days of joy, and triumph Sir,  
Which come as Seldom to them as new gowns  
Then humble wretches, they do frisk and dance  
In narrow Parlours, to a single Fiddle,  
That squeaks forth tunes, like a departing Pig.  Lucy. 
Whilst the mad Hinds, shake from their feet more dirt  
Than did the Cedar-Rootes, that danced to Orpheus.  Ample. 
Do they not pour their wine too, from an ewer,  
Or small guilt Cruce, like Orange-water kept  
To sprinkle holiday Beards?  Lucy. 
And when a Stranger comes, send seven miles post  
By Moonshine, for another pint?  Eld. Pallat. 
All these indeed are heavy truths, but what  
Do you (th'exemplar Madams of the Town?)  
Play away your youth, as our hasty Gamesters  
Their light Gold, not with desire to lose it,  
But in a fond mistake that it will fit  
No other use?  Thwack. 
And then reserve your age  
As superstitious Sinners ill got wealth  
Perhaps forth' Church, perhaps for Hospitals.  Eld. Pallat. 
If rich you come to Court, there learn to be  
At charge to teach your paraquitoes French,  
And then allow them their Interpreters,  
lest the Sage fowl should lose their wisdom on  
Such Pages of the presence, and the Guard  
As have not passed the Seas.  Thwack. 
But if y'are poor,  
Like wanton Monkeys, chained from Fruit,  
You feed upon the itch of your own Tails.  Lucy. 
rose-vinegar to wash that Ruffians mouth!  Ampl. 
They come to live here by their Wits, let them use'em!  Lucy. 
They have so few, and those they spend so fast,  
They will leave none remaining to maintain them.  Eld. Pallat. 
You shall maintain us; a community  
The subtle have decreed of late: You shall  
Endow us with your Bodies, and your Goods;  
Yet use no manacles called dull Matrimony  
To oblige affection against wise Nature,  
Where it is lost (perhaps) through a disparity  
Of years, or justly through distaste of crimes.  Ampl. 
Most excellent Resolves!  Eld. Pallat. 
But if you'll needs marry,  
Expect not a single Purse for a jointure;  
Not so much Land as will allow a Grasshopper  
A Salad!  Thwac. 
I would no more doubt t'enjoy  
You two in all variety of wishes,  
(Were't not for certain Covenants that I lately  
Signed to in my drink) than I would fear Usury  
In a small Poet, or a cast Corporal.  Ampl. 
You would not!  Thwack. 
But look to your old Widows!  
There my title's good; see they be rich too;  
Lest I shall leave their Twins upon the Parish,  
To whom the Deputy o'th' Ward will deny  
Blue Coats at Easter, Loaves at Funerals,  
'cause they were Sons of an old Country Wit!  Ampl. 
Why all for widow's Sir, can nothing that  
Is young affect your mouldy appetite?  Thw. 
No in sooth, Damsels at your years are wont  
To talk too much over their marmalade,  
They can't fare well, but all the Town must hear't!  
Their love's so full of praises, and so loud,  
A man may with less noise, lie with a Drum!  Ampl. 
Think you so Sir?  Thw. 
Give me an old widow that commits Sin  
With the gravity of a corrupt judge,  
Accepts of Benefits i'th' dark, and can  
Conceal them from the light.— Ample takes Elder Pall: apart.  Ampl. 
Pray Sir allow me but your ear aside!  
Though this rude Clime i'th' Clough, presume  
In his desires more than his strength can justify,  
You should have nobler kindness than to think  
All Ladies relish of an appetite,  
Bad as the worst your evil chance hath found.  Eld. Pallat. 
All are alike to me: at least, I'll make  
Them so, with thin persuasions, and a short  
Expense of time.  Ample. 
Then I have cast away  
My sight; my eyes have looked themselves into  
A strong disease, but they shall bleed for it.  Eld. Pall. 
Troth Lady mine, I find small remedy!  Ample. 
Why came you hither Sir, she that shall sigh  
Her easy spirits into wind for you,  
Must not have hope the kindness of your breath  
Will ere recover her.  Lucy. 
What do I hear? Hymen defend?  
But three good corners to your little heart,  
And two already broiling on love's Altar?  
Does this become her Ginet, speak?  Ginet. 
As age, and half a smock would become me.  Thwack. 
thoust caught her Palatine; insinuate Rogue?—  Lucy. 
Love him, you must recant, or the small God  
And I shall quarrel, when we meet i'th' Clouds.  Thwack. 
'Slight, see how she stands, speak to her.  Eld. Pall. 
Peace Knight! it is apt cunning that we go;  
Disdain is like to water poured on Ice,  
Quenches the flame a while to raise it higher.  Lucy. 
Engine show them their way.— Enter Engine.  Engine. 
It lies here Gentlemen!—  Eld. Pal. 
There needs small summons, we are gone! but d'you hear,  
We will receive no Letters, we, though sent  
Byth' incorporeal spy your Dwarf, or Audry  
Of the Chamber, that would deliver them  
With as much caution, as they were Attachments  
Upon money newly paid.  Thwack. 
Nor no message  
From the old Widow your Mother (if you  
Have one) no, though she send for me when she  
Is giving up her testy Ghost; and lies  
Half drowned in rheum, those floods of rheum, in which  
Her Maids do daily dive to seek the Teeth  
She coughed out last.— Exeunt Engine, Eld. Pall. Thwack.  Lucy. 
Lass! good old Gentleman!  
we shall see him shortly in as many Nightcaps,  
As would make sick Mahomet a Turban  
For the Winter.  Amp. 
Are they gone Luce?  Lucy. 
Not like the hours, for they'll return again  
Ere long; O you carried your false love rarely!  Amp 
How impudent these Country fellows are?  Lucy. 
He thinks y'are caught; he has you between's teeth,  
And intends you for the very next bit  
He means to swallow.  Amp. 
Luce, I have a thousand thoughts  
More than a Kerchief can keep in: Quick Girl!  
Let us consult, and thou shalt find what silly Snipes  
These witty Gentlemen shall prove, and in  
Their own confession too, or I'll cry Flounders else,  
And walk with my Petticoat tucked up like  
A long maid of Almaineny. Exeunt.  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Meager, Pert, the two last being new clothed. Young Pall. 
Don Meager, and Don Pert, you neither found  
These embroidered skins in your mother's womb:  
Surely Natures Wardrobe is not thus laced!  Pert. 
We flourish Pall, by th'Charter of thy smiles,  
A little magnified, with show, and thought  
Of our new plot.  Meag. 
The chambers bravely hung!  Pert. 
To thy own wish, a Bed and Canopy  
Prepared all from our numbered pence; if it  
Should fail, Meager, and I, must creep into  
Our quondam rags, a transmigration Pall,  
Which our Divinity can ill endure.  Meag. 
If I have more left t'maintain a large stomach,  
And a long Bladder, than one comely Shilling,  
Together with a single ounce of Hope;  
I am the Son of a Carman.  Young Pall. 
Do you suspect my prophecies,  
That am your Mint, your grand Exchequer?  Pert. 
Pall, no suspicions Pall, but we that embark  
Our whole stock in one vessel, would be glad  
To have all Pirates ashore, and the winds  
In a calm humour!  Meag. 
How fares th'intelligence?  Young Pall. 
I left 'em at the Lady Ample's house  
This street they needs must pass, if they reach home.  Pert. 
O I would fain project 'gainst the old Knight,  
Can we not share him too?  Young Pall. 
This wheel must move  
Alone, Sir Morglay Thwack's too rugged yet,  
He'd interrupt the course, a little more  
O'th' File, will smooth him fit to be screwed up;  Pert. 
Shrink off Pall, I hear 'em!  Enter Thwack, Elder Palatine. Elder Pall. 
thouhast not the art of patient leisure to  
Attend the aptitude of things; wouldst thou  
Run on like a rude Bull, on every object that  
Doth heat the blood? this cunning abstinence  
Will make her passions grow more violent.  Thwack. 
But Palatine, I do not find I have  
The cruelty, or grace, to let a Lady  
Starve for a warm morsel.— Pert and Meager take the Elder Palatine aside.  Young Pallat. 
Now my fine Pert!  Pert. 
Sir, we have business for your Ear; it may  
Concern you much, therefore 'tis fit it be  
Particular.  Elder Pall. 
From whom!  Meager. 
A young Lady Sir.  
It is a secret will exact much care  
And wisdom i'th' delivery; you should  
Dismiss that Gentleman!  Elder Pallat. 
A young Lady! good!  
All the best Stars i'th' Firmament are mine!  
Our Coach attends us Knight i'th' bottom of  
The hither street, you must go home alone.  Thwack. 
I'll sooner kill a Sergeant, choose my jury  
In the City, and be hanged for a Tavern Bush!  Elder Pall. 
Will't ruin all our destinies hath built?  Thw. 
Come, what are those sly silkworms there that creep  
So close into their wool, as they would spin  
For none but their dear selves. I heard 'em name a Lady!  Elder Pall. 
You heard them say then, she was young, and what  
Our Covenants are, remember!  Thw. 
Young, how young?  
She left her Wormseed, and her Coral whistle  
But a Month since: do they mean so?  Eld. Pall. 
Morglay, our Covenants is all I ask!  Thw. 
May be she hath a mind to me, for there's  
A reverend humour in the blood, which thou  
ne'er knewst; perhaps she would have Boys begot  
Should be delivered with long Beards, till thou  
Arrive at my full growth, thou'lt yield the world  
Nought above Dwarf, or Page.  Elder Pallat. 
Our Covenants still, I cry!  Thwack. 
Faith, I'll stride my Mule too morrow, and away  
Toth' homely Village in the North!  Elder Pall. 
Why so?  Thwack. 
Alas, these silly Covenants (you know)  
I sealed too in my drink, and certain fears  
Lurk in a remote comer of my head,  
That say the game will all be yours.  Elder Pallat. 
But what success canst thou expect, since w'have  
Not yet enjoyed the City a full day?  Thwack. 
I say, let me have Woman; be she young,  
Or old, Grandam or Babe, I must have Woman!  Elder Pall. 
Carry but thy patience like a Gentleman,  
And let me singly manage this adventure,  
It will too morrow cancel our old deeds,  
And leave thee to subscribe to what thy free  
Pleasure shall direct.  Thw. 
we'll equally enjoy  
Virgin, Wife, and Widow, the younger Kerchief with  
The aged Hood.  Elder Pall. 
What I have said, if I had leisure now  
I'd ratify with oaths of thy own choosing.  Thwac. 
Go! propagate! fill the shops with thy notched  
Issue, that when our Money's spent, we may  
Be trusted, break, and dozen in our own Tribe.  Elder Pall. 
Leave me to fortune!  Thw. 
D'you here Palatine.  
Perhaps this young Lady has a Mother!—  Elder Pall. 
No more, good night!— Exit Thwack.  
I have obeyed you Gentlemen, no Ears  
Are near us, but our own, what's your affair!  Meag. 
we'll lead you to the Lady's Mansion Sir,  
'Tis hard by.  Elder Pall. 
Hard by!  Pert. 
So near, that if your Lungs be good,  
You may spit thither: that is the house!  Elder Pall. 
These appear Gentlemen,  
And of some rank! I will in! Exeunt Eld. Pall. Meager. Pert.  Young Pall. 
So, so! the hook has caught him by the Gills;  
And it is fastened to a line will hold  
You Sir, though your wits were stronger than your purse!  
Sir Morglay Thwack's gone home; his lodging I  
Have learned, and there are certain Gins prepared,  
In which his wary feet may chance to be  
Ensnared; though he could wear his Eyes upon his Toes!  
I must follow the game close! He is entered,  
And ere this amazed, at the strange complexion  
Of the house, but, 'twas the best our friendship  
And our treasure could procure. Exit.  Eld: Palatine, Meager, Pert, with Lights. Eld. Pall. 
Gentlemen (if you please) lead me no further!  
I have so little faith to believe this,  
The Mansion of a Lady, that I think  
'Tis rather the decays of hell; a sad  
Retirement for the Fiend, to sleep in when  
he's sick with drinking Sulphur.  Pert. 
Sir you shall see this upper room is hung!  Eld. Pall. 
With Cobwebs Sir, and those so large, they may  
Catch and ensnare Dragons instead of Flies.  
Where sit a melancholy race of old  
Norman Spiders, that came in with Conqueror.  Meag. 
This chamber will refresh your Eyes, when you  
Have cause to enter it.— Leads him to look in 'tween the hangings.  Elder Pallat. 
A Bed, and Canopy!  
there's show of entertainment there indeed;  
There Lovers may have place to celebrate  
Their warm wishes, and not take cold: but Gentlemen,  
How comes the rest of this blind house so naked,  
So ruinous, and deformed?  Pert. 
Pray Sir sit down:  
If you have seen aught strange, or fit for wonder,  
It but declares the hasty shifts, to which  
The poor distressed Lady is exposed,  
In pursuit of your love. She hath good fame,  
Great dignity and wealth; and would be loath  
To cheapen these by making her dull family  
Bold witnesses of her desires with you:  
Therefore, t'avoid suspicion, to this place,  
Sh'ath sent part of her neglected Wardrobe.  Meag. 
And will ere Time grows older by an hour,  
Guild all this homely furniture at charge  
Of her own Eyes; her beams can do it Sir!  Elder Pallat. 
My manners will not suffer me to doubt!  Pert. 
we hope so too: beside though every one  
That hath a heart of's own, may think his pleasure;  
We should be loath, your thoughts should throw mistakes  
On us; that are the humble Ministers  
Of your kind stars: for sure, though we look not  
Like men that make Plantation on some Isle  
That's uninhabited; yet you believe  
We would teach Sexes mingle, to increase Men!  Meag. 
Squires of the Placket, we know you think us.  Elder Pall. 
Excuse my courage Gentlemen! good faith  
I am not bold enough to think you so.  Pert. 
Nor will you yet be wooed to such mistake?  Elder Pall. 
Not all the Art, nor Flattery you have  
Can render you to my belief worse than  
myself: Panders, and Bawds, good Gentlemen  
I shall be angry, if you persuade me to  
So vile a thought!  Pert. 
Sir you have cause!  
And in good faith, if you should think us such,  
we would make bold to cut that slender throat.  Elder Pall. 
How Sir?  Pert. 
That very throat, through which the lusty Grape,  
And savoury Morsel in the Gamesters dish,  
Steal down so leisurely, with Kingly gust!  Meag 
Sir it should open wide, as th'widest Oyster  
I'th' venetian Lake!  Eld. Pall. 
Gentlemen, it should!  
It is a throat I can so little hide  
In such a cause, that I would whet your Razor for't  
On my own shoe.  Pert. 
Enough! you shall know all!  
This Lady hath a Noble Mind; but 'tis  
So much o'ermastered by her blood, we fear  
Nothing but death, or you can be her remedy!  Elder Pallat. 
And she is young?  Meag. 
O! as the April Bud!  Eld. Pall. 
'Twere pity faith, she should be cast away!  Pert. 
You have a soft, and blessed heart! and to  
Prevent so sad a period of her sweet breath;  
ourselves, this house, the habit of this room,  
The Bed within, and your fair person we  
Have all assembled in a trice.  Elder Pall. 
Sure Gentlemen,  
In my opinion more could not be done,  
Were she Inheretrix of all the East!  Pert. 
But Sir the excellence of your pure fame,  
Hath given us boldness to make suit, that if  
You can reclaim her appetite with chaste  
And wholesome homilies; such Counsel as  
Befits your known morality, you will  
Be pleased to save her life, and not undo her honour?  Meag. 
We hope you will afford her Medicine by  
Your meek and holy Lectures, rather than  
From any manly exercise, for such  
In troth Sir you appear to our weak sight!  Eld. Pall. 
Brothers, and friends a style more distant now  
Cannot be given: though you were in compass  
Thick, as the Asps, I must embrace you both—  
Y'have hit the very Centre, unto which  
The toils and comforts of my studies tend!  Pert. 
Alas we drew our Arrow but by aim!  Elder Pall. 
Why Gentlemen I have converted more  
Than ever Gold or Aretine misled:  
I've Disciples of all degrees in Nature  
From your little punk in Purple, to your  
Tall Canvas Girl, from your Satin Slipper  
To your Iron patten, and your Norway Shoe!  Pert. 
And can you mollify the Mother Sir,  
In a strong fit.  Elder Pall. 
Sure Gentlemen I can.  
If books penned with a clean and wholesome spirit,  
Have any might to edify; would they  
Were here.  Meag. 
What Sir?  Eld. Pall. 
A small Library,  
Which I am wont to make companion to  
My idle hours: where some (I take it) are  
A little consonant unto this Theme.  Pert. 
Have they not names?  Eld. Pall. 
A Pill to purge phlebotomy! a Balsamum  
For the spiritual back! a lozenge against lust;  
With divers others Sir, which though not penned  
By dull Platonic Greeks, or Memphian Priests,  
Yet have the blessed mark of separation  
Of Authors silenced, for wearing short hair.  Pert. 
But Sir, if this chaste means cannot restore  
Her to her health and quiet peace; I hope  
You will vouchsafe your Lodging in yond Bed,  
And take a little pains— Points to the Bed within.  Elder Pallat. 
Faith Gentlemen, I was  
Not bred on Scythian Rocks; Tigers and Wolves  
I've heard of, but ne'er sucked their milk, and sure  
Much would be done to save a lady's longing!  Meag. 
'tis late Sir. pray uncase!— They help to unclothe him.  Pert. 
Your Boot, believe't, it is my exercise!—  Elder Pall. 
Well; 'tis your turn to labour now, and mine  
Anon, for your dear sakes Gentlemen, I profess—  Pert. 
My friend shall wait upon you to your sheets,  
Whilst I go and conduct the Lady hither:  
Whom if your holy doctrine cannot well  
Reclaim, pray hazard not her life; you have  
A body Sir!  Eld. Pall. 
O! think me not cruel! Ex. Mea. Eld: Pal.  Enter Yo:: Palatine. Pert. 
Pall! come in Pall!  Young Pall. 
Is he in Bed?  Pert. 
Not yet,  
But stripping in more haste, than an old snake  
That hopes for a new skin!  Young Pall. 
If we could laugh  
In our Coffin Pert, this would be a jest  
Long after death: he is so eager in  
His witty hopes, that he suspects nothing.  Pert. 
O all he swallows Sir is melting Conserve,  
And soft Indian Plum! Meager, what news? Enter Meager.  Meag. 
Laid! gently laid! he is all Virgin sure,  
From the crown of's head, to his very Navel!  Young Pall. 
Where are his Breeches? speak! his Hatband too!  
'tis of grand price, the stones are roseal, and  
Of the white Rock!  Meag. 
I hung'em purposely  
Aside, theyare all within my reach: shall I in?  Young Pall. 
Soft! softly my false fiend! remember Rogue;  
You tread on Glasses, Eggs, and gouty Toes!—  Meager takes out his Hat and Breeches, the Pockets and Hatband rifled, they throw 'em in again. Meag. 
Hold Pall! th'Exchequer is thine own! we will  
Divide, when thou art gracious and well pleased!  Young Pal. 
All Gold! the stalls of Lombardstreet poured into a purse.  Pert. 
These dear Pall, are thy Brothers goodly herds!  Young Pall. 
Yes, and his proud Flocks; but you see what they  
Come to? a little room contains them all  
At last; so, so, convey them in again!  
Because he is my Elder Brother!  
My Mother's Maidenhead, and a Country Wit,  
He shall not be exposed to bare thighs, and a  
Bald Crown! what noise is that?— knocking within, Pert looks at door.  Pert. 
Death! there's old Snore  
The Constable! his wife, a Regiment of Halberds.  
And Mistress Queasy too, the Landlady  
That owns this house.  Meag. 
Belike th'ave heard, our friend  
The Bawd, fled hence last night; and now they come  
To cease on movables for rent!  Young. Pall. 
The Bed within, and th'Hangings that we hired,  
To furnish our design, are all condemned,  
My brother too; they'll use him with as thin  
Remorse, as an old Gamester would an Alderman's Heir!  Pert. 
No matter, our adventure's paid! follow  
Pall! and I'll lead you a back way, where you  
Shall climb o'er tiles, like Cats when they make love.  Young. Pall. 
Now I shall laugh at those, that heap up wealth  
By lazy method, and slow rules of Thrift;  
I'm grown the Child of Wit, and can advance  
myself, by being Votary to chance, Exeunt.   

ACT. 3. SCEN. 1.  Enter Snore, Mistress Snore, Queasie, and Watchmen. Mist. Snore. 
days o' my breath, I have not seen the like!  
What would you have my husband do? 'tis past  
One by Boe, and the Bell-Man has gone twice!  Queasie. 
Good Master Snore, you are the Constable,  
You may do it (as they say) be it right or wrong!  
'Tis four years rent, come Childermas Eve next!  Snore. 
You see Neighbour Queasy the Doors are open;  
here's no goods, no Bawd left; I'd see the Bawd!  Mist. Snore. 
I or the Whores; my husband's the king's officer,  
And still takes care I warrant ye of Bawds,  
And Whores! Show him but a Whore at this time  
O' night (Good man) you bring a bed i' faith!  Queasie. 
I pray Mistress Snore let him search the Parish,  
They are not gone far, I must have my rent;  
I hope there are Whores, and Bawds in the Parish!  Mist. Snore. 
Search now? it is too late; a woman had  
As good marry a Cowlstaff as a Constable;  
If he must nothing but search and search, follow  
His Whores, and Bawds all day, and never comfort  
His Wife at night: I prithee Lamb let us to Bed!  Snore. 
It must be late; for Gossip Nock the Nayleman  
Had catechized his Maids, and sung three Catches,  
And a Song, ere we set forth!  Queasie. 
Good Mistress Snore, forbear your husband but  
tonight; and let the search go on!  Mist. Snore. 
I will nor forbear; you might ha' let your house  
To honest women, not to Bawds! fie upon you!  Queasie. 
Fie upon me! 'tis well known I'm the mother  
Of Children! Scurvy Fleake! 'tis not for nought  
You boil Eggs in your Gruel, and your man Sampson  
Owes my Son in law, the Surgeon, Ten groats  
For Turpentine; which you have promised to pay  
Out of his Christmas Box.  Mist. Snore. 
I defy thee.  
Remember thy first calling, thou setst up  
With a Peck of Damsens, and a new Sieve;  
When thou brok'st at Dowgate corner, 'cause the Boys  
Flung down thy ware!  Snore. 
Keep the peace Wife! keep the peace!  Mist. Snore. 
I will not peace; she took my silver Thimble  
To pawn, when I was a Maid; I paid her  
A penny a month use!  Queasie. 
A Maid? yes sure;  
By that token, goody Tongue the Midwife,  
Had a dozen Napkins o' your Mother's best  
Diaper, to keep silence; when she said  
She left you at Saint Peter's Fair, where you  
Longed for Pig!  Snore. 
Neighbour Queasy, this was not  
In my time: what my Wife hath done, since I  
Was Constable, and the king's Officer,  
I'll answer: therefore (I say) keep the peace!  
And when w'have searched the two back rooms, I'll to bed!  
Peace Wife! not a word! Exeunt.  Enter Eld. Palatine clothing himself in haste. Eld. Pall. 
'tis time to get on wings, and fly!  
Here's a noise of Thunder, Wolves, Women, Drums,  
All that's confused, and frights the ear! I heard  
Them cry out Bawds! the sweet young Lady is  
Surprised sure, by the nice slave her husband;  
Or some old frosty Matron of near kin;  
And the good Gentlemen sh' employed to me  
Are tortured, and called Bawds! If I am ta'en,  
I'll swear, I purposed her conversion.—  Enter Snore, Mist. Snore, Queasie, and Watchmen. Snore. 
Here's a Room hung, and a fair Bed within,  
I take it, there's the he Bawd too.  Queasie. 
Cease on the lewd thing!  
I pray Master Snore, cease on the Goods too!  Mist. Snore. 
Who would not be a Bawd? th'ave proper men  
To their husbands; and she maintains him  
Like any parish Deputy.  Eld. Pall. 
What are you?  Snore. 
I am the Constable,  Eld. Pall. 
Good, the Constable?  
I begin to stroke my long ears, and find  
I am an Ass! such a dull Ass, as deserves  
Thistles for provander, and sawdust too  
Instead of Grains! O I am finely gulled.  Mist. Snore. 
Truly as proper a Bawd, as a woman  
Would desire to use?  Eld. Pall. 
Master Constable,  
Though these your Squires o'th' Blade and Bill seem to  
Be courteous Gentlemen, and well taught, yet  
I would know, why they embrace me?  Snor. 
You owe my neighbour (Mist. Queasy) four years rent.  Queasie. 
Yes and for three Bed Ticks and a Brass Pot;  
Which your Wife promised me to pay this Term,  
For now (she said) sh' expectsexpects her country Customers.  Eld. Pall. 
My Wife! have I been led toth' Altar too;  
By some doughty Deacon, ta'en woman by  
The pretty thumb, and given her a Ring  
With my dear self, for better, and for worse,  
And all in a forgotten dream? But for whom  
Do you take me?  Snore. 
For the he Bawd.  Eld. Pall. 
Good faith, you may as soon,  
Take me for a Whale, which is something rare  
You know, o' this side the Bridge.  Mrs. Snore. 
'tis indeed!  
Yet our Paul was in the belly of one,  
In my Lord Majors Show; and husband you remember,  
He beckoned you out of the fish's mouth,  
And you gave him a Pepin, for the poor soul  
Had like t'have choked, for very thirst.  Eld. Pall. 
I saw it, and cried out  
O'th' City, 'cause they would not be at charge  
To let the Fish swim in a deeper Sea!  Mist. Snore. 
Indeed; why I was but a tiny Girl then;  
I pray how long have you been a Bawd here?  Eld. Pall. 
Again! how the Devil,  
Am I changed, since my own Glass rendered me  
A Gentleman: well, master Constable,  
Though every Stall's your worship's wooden Throne,  
Here you are humble, and o' foot; therefore,  
I will put on my Hat; pray reach it me!— misses his Diamond Hatband.  
Death! my hatband! a row of Diamonds  
Worth a thousand Marks! Nay, it is time then  
To doubt, and tremble to. My Gold! my Gold!— searches his Pockets.  
And precious stones!  Mist. Snore. 
Do you suspect my Husband?  
He hath no need o' your stones, I praise heaven!  Eld. Pallat. 
A plague upon your courteous midnight Leaders!  
Good silly Saints, they are dividing now,  
And ministering (no doubt) unto the poor!  
This will decline the reputation of  
My Wit; till I be thought to have a less head  
Than a justice o' Peace! if Morglay hear't,  
He'll think me dull, as a Dutch Mariner!  
No medicine now from thought? Good! 'tis designed!  Snor. 
Come along! 'tis late.  Eld. Pall. 
Whither must I go?  Queasie. 
To the Compter sir, unless my rent be paid!  Snore. 
And for being a Bawd!  Eld. Pallat. 
Confined in Wainscot Walls too,  
Like a liquorish Rat, for nibbling  
Unlawfully upon forbidden Cheese!  
This to the other sauce, is aloes and Myrrh!  
But Master Constable do you behold this Ring?  
It is worth all the Bells in your Church steeple,  
Though your Sexton, and Sidemen hung there too,  
To better the Peal.  Snor. 
Well, what's your request?  Eld. Pall. 
marry, that you will let me go to fetch  
The Bawd, the very Bawd, that owes this rent;  
Who being brought, you shall restore my Ring:  
And believe me to be an arrant Gentleman,  
Such as in's Scutcheon gives Horns, Hounds, and Hawks,  
Hunting Nags, with tall Eaters in Blue Coats,  
sans Number!  Quea. 
Pray let him go Master Snore;  
we'll stay and keep the goods!  Mist. Snor. 
Yes, let him Husband.  
For I would fain see a very be Bawd!  Snor. 
Come Neighbours, light him out! Exeunt.  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Ample, Pert, Luce, Ginet, Engine, with lights. Ampl. 
A Forest full of Palms, thy Lover (Luce)  
Merits in Garlands for his victory.  
I'm wild with joy! why there was wit enough  
In this design to bring a Ship o' fools  
To shore again, and make them all good Pilots!  Young Pall. 
Madam, this Gentleman deserves to share  
In your kind praise, he was a merry Agent  
In the whole plot, and would exalt himself  
To your ladyship's service: If you please  
For my humble sake, unto your Lip too!— Pert salutes her.  Ampl. 
Sir you are friend to Palatine,  
And that entitles you unto much worth.  Pert. 
The title will be bettered (Madam) when  
I am become a Servant to your beauty.  Lucy. 
Why your confederate Pert, is courtly too;  
He will out-tongue a Favourite of France!  
But didst thou leave thy Brother surfeiting  
On lewd hopes?  Young Pall. 
He believes all woman kind  
Dressed, and ordained for th'mercy of his Tooth!  Ampl. 
And now lies stretched in his smooth slippery sheets!  Young Pall, 
O like, a wanton Snake on camomile!  
And rifled to so sad remains of wealth,  
That if his resolution still disdain  
Supplement from his Lands, and he resolve  
To live here by his Wits; he will ere long  
Betrothe himself to radish women for  
Their roots; pledge Children in their sucking Bottles,  
And in dark winter Mornings, rob small Schoolboys  
Of their Honey, and their Bread.  Pert. 
Faith, Meager and I, used him with as much  
Remorse, as our occasions could allow:  
'las, he must think we shreds of time  
Have our occasions too!  Young Pall. 
What (Madam) need he care?  
For let him but prove kind unto his Bulls,  
Bring them their Heifers when their Crests are high;  
Stroke his fair Ewes, and pimp a little for  
His Rams; they straight will multiply; and then  
The next great Fair, prepares him fit again,  
Forth' City's view, and our surprise.  Amp. 
Why this young Gentleman hath relish in't!  
Yet when you understand the dark, and deep  
Contrivements which myself, Engine, and Luce,  
Have laid for this great witty Villager,  
To whom you bow as foremost of your blood;  
You will degrade yourselves from all prerogatives,  
Above our Sex, and all those pretty Marks  
Of Manhood (your trim beards) sing oft with Tapers,  
As a just Sacrifice to our Supremacy!  Luce. 
If Sir Tyrant Thrift, your Phlegmatic Guardian  
Leave but this Mansion ours till the next Sun,  
We'll make your haughty brother tremble at  
The name of Woman, and blush behind a Fan  
Like a yawning Bride, that hath foul Teeth!  Engine. 
madam, 'tis time you were a Bed; for sure besides  
The earnest invitation which I left,  
Writ in his Chamber, these afflictions will  
Disturb his rest, and bring him early hither  
To recover his sick hopes.— Enter Meager.  Yo. Pall. 
Meager! What news? Madam, the homage of  
Your Lip again; A Man o' War believe't;  
One that hath fasted in the face of's foe;  
Seen Spinola entrenched; sometimes hath spread  
His butter at the state's charge; sometimes too,  
Fed on a Salad that hath grown upon  
The Enemies own Land; but pardon me,  
Without or Oil, or Vinegar!  Ample. 
Sir, Men in choler may do any thing.  Meager. 
Your Ladyship will excuse his new plenty;  
It hath made him pleasant.  Yo. Pall. 
Meager! what news? how do our Spies prosper?  Meager. 
Sir rare discoveries! I've traced your Brother;  
You shall hear more anon!  Ginet. 
Your Ladyship forgets how early your  
Designs will waken you?  Engine. 
Madam, I'd fain be  
Bold too, to hasten you unto your rest!  Amp. 
'Tis late (indeed) the silence of the Night  
And sleep be with you Gentlemen! Exeunt. Ample, Ginet: Engine  Yo. Pall. 
Madam, good night: but our heads never were  
Ordained to so much trivial leisure as  
To sleep: you may as soon entreat  
A Sexton sleep in's belfry when the Plague reigns;  
An aged Sinner in a Tempest, or  
A jealous state's man when his Prince is dying!  Luce. 
Pray dismiss your friends, I would speak with you.  
Yo Pall. Men o'the puissant Pike, follow the lights.— Exeunt Meager, Pert.  Luce. 
Pall, you are as good natured to me Pall,  
As the wife of a silenced Minister,  
Is to a Monarchy, or to lewd Gallants,  
That have lost a Nose!  Yo. Pall. 
And why so Dame Luce!  Luce. 
So many yellow Images at once  
Assembled in your fist, and jewels too  
Of goodly price, all this free booty got,  
In lawful war, and I no tribute Pall?  Yo. Pall. 
What need it Luce? a Virgin may live cheap:  
theyare maintained with as small charge as a Wren  
With Maggots, in a geese-monger's shop?  Luce. 
Well Pall, and yet you know all my extremes?  
How for a little Taffeta to line  
A Mask, I'm fain to mollify my Mercer  
With a soft whisper, and a timorous blush;  
To sigh unto my milliner for Gloves;  
That they may trust, and not complain unto my Aunt;  
Who is as jealous of me as their wives, and all  
Through your demeanour Pall; whose kindness I  
Perceive, will raise me to such dignity,  
That I must teach Children in a dark Cellar,  
Or work coifs in a Garret for cracked Groats,  
And broken meat!  Yo. Pall. 
Luce, I will give thee Luce, to buy  Luce. 
What Pall.  Yo. Pall. 
An ounce of Arsenic to mix in thy aunt's caudles,  
This Aunt, I must see cold, and grinning, Luce,  
Sealed t'her last wink, as if she closed her eyes  
T'avoid the sight of Feathers, Coaches, and short Cloaks!  Luce. 
How many Angels of your Family  
Are there in heaven? but few I fear, and how,  
You'll be the first, that shall entitle them  
To such high calling, is to me a doubt!  Yo. Pallat. 
Why is there never a Pew there (Luce) but for  
Your coughing Aunt, and you?  Luce. 
Hadst thou eyes like flaming Beacons, crooked homes,  
A tail three yards long, and thy feet Cloven,  
Thou couldst not be more a Fiend, than thou art now;  
But to advance thy sins with being hard,  
And costive unto me!  Yo. Pall. 
You lie Luce! you lie!— Flings her a Purse.  
There's Gold! the Fairies are thy Mintmen Girl,  
Of this thou shalt have store enough, to make  
The hungry Academics mention thee,  
In Evening Lectures, with applause, and prayer:  
A Foundress thou shalt be.  Luce. 
Of Hospitals;  
For your decayed self, Meager, and Pert,  
Those wealthy Usurers, your poor friends.  Young Pall. 
A Nunnery Luce, where all the female issue  
Of our decayed Nobility shall live  
Thy Pensioners: it will preserve them from  
Such want, as makes them quarter Arms with th'City,  
And match with saucy Haberdashers Sons,  
Whose Fathers lived in Allies, and dark Lanes!  Luce. 
Good night Pall! your gold I'll lay up, though but  
T'encounter the next surgeon's Bill; yet know  
Our Wits are ploughing too, and in a ground  
That yields as fair a grain as this!  Young Pall. 
Farewell, and let me hear thy Aunt is stuck  
With more Bay leaves and Rosemary, than a  
Westphalia Gammon. Exeunt.  Enter Elder Palatine, and Thwack, dressing himself. Eld. Pall. 
Quick, dispatch Knight! thou art as tedious in  
Thy dressing, as a Court Bribe; two ships might  
Be rigged for the Straits, in less space than thou  
carriest that same old Hulk, can it be thought  
That one so filled with hope and wise designs  
Could be subdued with sleep, what dull, and drowsy?  
Keep earlier hours than a roost Hen in Winter?  Thwack. 
Palatine, the design grow all Dream, Magic,  
And Alchemy to me: I gave it lost!  
Clove to my soft Pillow, like a warm justice,  
And slept there with less noise than a dead Lawyer  
In a Monument.  Elder Pall. 
This is the house; dispatch, that I may knock.  Thwack. 
'Slight stay, thou think'st I've the dexterity  
Of a Spaniel, that with a yaw, a scratch  
On his left ear, and stretching his hind legs,  
Is ready for all day: O for the Biscayan sleeve,  
And Bulloigne hose, I wore when I was shrieve,  
In Eighty Eight!  Eld. Pall. 
Faith thou art comely Knight!  
And I already see the Town Girls melt,  
And thaw before thee.  Thwack. 
we must be content!  
Thou know'st all men are bound to were their limbs  
I'th' same skin that Nature bestows upon them;  
Be it rough or be it smooth; for my part,  
If she to whom you lead me now like not  
The grain of mine, I will not flay myself,  
T'humor the touch of her Ladyships fingers!  Elder Pall. 
Well I had thought t'have carried it with Youth,  
But when I came to greet her beauties with  
The Eyes of Love and wonder, she despised me,  
Rebuked those haughty Squires, her Servants that  
Conveyed me thither in mistake, and cried,  
She meant the more Authentic Gentleman,  
The reverend monsieur, she!  Thwack. 
The reverend monsieur?  
Why does she take me for a French Deane?  Eld. Pal. 
Her Confessor at least, her secrets are  
Thine own; but by what Charms attained;  
Let him determine that has read Agrippa.  Thw. 
Charms? yes Sir, if this be a Charm— or this— leaps and frisks.  
Or here again t'advance th'activity  
Of a poor old back!  Eld. Pall. 
No Ape, Sir Morglay,  
After a year's obedience to the Whip,  
Is better qualified!  Thw. 
Limber, and sound Sir!  
Besides, I sing, little Musgrove; and then  
For, the chevy Chase, no Lark comes near me!  
If she be ta'en with these, why at her peril be't!  Elder Pall. 
Come Sir, dispatch! I'll knock, for here's the house!  Thwack. 
Stay, stay! this Lane (sure) has no great renown!  
The house too, if the Moon reveal't aright,  
May for its small Magnificence be left  
(For aught we know) out of the City Map!  Eld. Pall. 
Therein consists the Miracle, and when  
The doors shall ope, and thou behold, how lean  
And ragged every room appears, till thou  
Hast reached the Sphere, where she (Illustrious) moves,  
Thy wonder will be more perplexed; for know  
This Mansion is not hers, but a concealed  
Retirement, which her wisdom safely chose  
To hide her loose love.  Thwack. 
Give me a Baggage that has brains! but Palatine,  
Did not I at first persuade thee, those two  
Trim Gentlemen, her Squires, might happily  
Mistake the person unto whom the message was  
Disposed; and that myself was he?  Elder Pall. 
Thou didst! and thou hast got (Knight) by this hand  
I think, the Mogul's Niece; she cannot be  
Of less descent; the height and strangeness of  
Her port, denote her foreign, and of great blood!  Thwack. 
What should the Mogul's Niece do here?  Eld. Pall. 
'Las thy Ears are buried in a Woolsack;  
Thou hear'st no News! 'tis all the voice in Court,  
That she is sent hither in disguise, to learn  
To play on the Guitar, and make Almond Butter!  
But whether this great Lady that I bring  
Thee too, be she; is yet not quite confirmed!  Thwack. 
Thou talk'st o'th' high, and strange comportment that  
Thou found'st her in!  Elder Pall. 
Right Sir! she sat on a rich Persian Quilt,  
Thridding a carkanet, of pure, round Pearl,  
Bigger than Pigeons Eggs!  Thwack. 
Those I will sell!  Elder Pall. 
Her Maids with little Rods of Rosemary,  
And stalks of lavender, were brushing Ermines skins;  Thw. 
Furs for the Winter! I'll line my Breeches with them!  Eld. Pall. 
Her young smooth Pages lay, round at her feet;  
Clothed like the Sophy's Sons; and all at Dice;  
The Caster six Wedges a Cubit long  
Cries one; another comes a Tun of Pistolets;  
And then is covered with an Argosy,  
Laden with indigo, and cochineal!  Thwack. 
This must be the great Mogul's Niece!  Eld. Pal. 
As for her Grooms, they all were planted on  
Their knees, carousing their great ladies' health  
In perfumed Wines, and then straight qualified  
Their wild, voluptuous heats with cool Cerbet,  
The Turks own julip?  Thw. 
Knock, Palatine!  
Quick Rogue! I cannot hold; little thought I  
The thwacks of the North, should inoculate  
With the moguls of the South!— Palatine knocks.  Enter Snore. Eld. Pall. 
Speak softly Master Constable, I've brought  
The very he Bawd!  Snor. 
Blessing on your heart Sir!  
My Watch are above at Trea Trip, for a  
Black Pudding, and a pound o' Suffolk Cheese;  
They'll ha'done straight: Pray fetch him to me,  
I'll call them down, and lead him to a by-room!  Thw. 
Palatine, what's he?  Eld. Pall. 
The Lady's steward sir,  
A sage Philosopher, and a grave Pandar!  
One that hath writ bawdy Sonnets in Hebrew,  
And those so well, that if the Rabbins were  
Alive, 'tis thought he would corrupt their Wives.  
Follow me Knight!—  Thw. 
Palatine,  
Half the large Treasure that I get is yours!  Elder Pal. 
Good faith (my friend) when you are once possessed  
Of all, 'tis as your Conscience will vouchsafe.  Thwack. 
Dost thou suspect? I'll stay here till thou fetch  
A Bible, and a Cushion, and swear kneeling!  Elder Pal. 
My Faith shall rather cozen me; walk in  
With this Philosopher— No words! for he's  
A Pythagorean and Professes silence!  
My Ring Master Constable— Snore gives him his Ring, then Exit with Thwack.  
Here yet my Reputation's safe! should he  
Have heard of my mischance, and not accompanied  
With this defeat upon himself, his Mirth  
And Tyranny had been 'bove humane Sufferance!  
Now for the Lady Ample, she (I guess)  
Looks on me with strong fervent Eyes; she's rich;  
And could I work her into profit, 'twould  
Procure my Wit, immortal memory;  
But to be gulled? and by such Trifles too;  
Dull, humble Gentlemen that ne'er drunk Wine,  
But on some Coronation day, when each  
Conduit pisses Claret at the Town charge!  
Well, though 'tis worse than Steel or Marble to  
Digest; yet I have learned, one stop in a  
Career, taint not a Rider with disgrace;  
But may procure him breath to win the race. Exit.   

ACT. 4. SCEN. 1.  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Engine, Meager, Pert, Palatine richly clothed. Engin. 
Your Brother's in the house; the Letter which  
I sent to tempt him hither wrought above  
The reach of our desires; My Lady Sir,  
He does believe is sick to death; and all,  
In languishment for his dear love.  Young Pall. 
Pert, and Meager, though you have both good faces,  
They must not be seen here; there is below,  
A Brother o'mine; whom (I take it) you  
Have used not overtenderly.  Meag. 
'Slight he must needs remember us!  Pert. 
we'll sooner stay t'outface a Basilisk!  
Whither shall we go?  Young Pall. 
To Snore the Constable: Morglay is still  
A Prisoner in his house; take order for's  
Release, as I projected, but (d'you hear)  
He must not free him till I come.  Pert. 
Pall, will the dull Ruler of the night (Pall)  
Obey thy Edict!  Young Pall: 
His wife will, and she's his Constable!  
Name me but to her, and she does homage!  Meag. 
Enough, we will attend thee there!  Engin. 
This way Gentlemen. Exeunt Engine, Pert, Meager.  Enter Elder Palatine. Elder Pal. 
What's this, an apparition, a Ghost embroidered?  
Sure he has got the Devil for his tailor.  Yo. Pall. 
Good morrow Brother, Morrow!  Eld. Pall. 
You are in glory sir, I like this flourishing!  
The Lily too, looks handsome for a Month;  
But you (I hope) will last out the whole year!  Yo. Pall. 
What flourishing? O Sir, belike you mean  
My Clothes; theyare Rags, course homely Rags, believe't;  
Yet they will serve forth' Winter sir, when I  
Ride post in Sussex ways!—  Eld. Pall. 
This gaiety denotes  
Some solitary treasure in the Pocket,  
And so you may become a lender too;  
You know, I'm far from home!  Yo. Pall. 
I'll lend nothing, but good Counsel, and Wit?  Eld. Pall. 
Why, sure, you have no Factors sir, in Delft,  
Leghorn, Aleppo, or'th' Venetian Isles,  
That by their Traffic can advance you thus;  
Nor do you trade i'th' City by retail  
In our small Wares: All that you get by Law,  
Is but a doleful Execution  
After Arrest; and for your power in Court;  
I know your stockings being on, you are  
Admitted in the Presence.  Yo. Pall. 
What does this infer Brother?  
Men of design are chary of their Minutes,  
Be quick, and subtle!  Eld. Pall. 
The Inference is  
You prosper by my documents; and what  
You have achieved must be, by your good Wits!  Yo. Pall. 
If you had had a Sibyl to your Nurse,  
You could not (Sir) have aimed nearer the truth.  
I saw your Ears and Bags, were shut to all  
Intents of bounty; therefore was enforced  
Into this way; and 'twas at first somewhat  
Against my Conscience too!  Eld. Pall. 
If not to vex  
The zealous spirit in you, I would know why?  Young Pal. 
Good faith I've searched Records, and cannot find  
That Magna Charta does allow a Subject  
To live by his Wits; there is no Statute for't!  Eld. Pall. 
Your Common Lawyer was no Antiquary!  Yo. Pal. 
And then (credit me Sir) the Canons of  
The Church authorize no such thing.  Elder Pall. 
You have met with a dull Civilian too!  Young Pall. 
Yet Brother, these impediments cannot  
Choke up my way; I must still on!  Elder Pall. 
And you believe the Stories of young heirs  
enforced to sign at Midnight to appease  
The Sword Man's wrath, may be outdone by you!  Young Pall. 
I were unkind else, to my own good parts!  Elder Pal. 
And that your Wit has power to tempt from the  
Severe, grave Bench, the Aldermen themselves,  
To rifle where you please, for scarves, Feathers,  
And for Race Nags!  Young Pal. 
It is believed Sir, in a trice!  Elder Pal. 
And that your wit can lead our reverend Matrons,  
And testy Widows of fourscore, to scale  
(And in their smocks) for frail commodities  
To elevate your Punk?  Young Pal. 
All this Sir, is so easy,  
My Faith would swallow't, though t'had a sore throat!  Elder Pal. 
Give me thy hand! This day I'll cut off the entail  
Of all my Lands, and disinherit thee!  Young Pall. 
Will you Sir? I thank ye!  Elder Pal. 
But mark me Brother; for there's justice in't,  
Admits of no reproof; what should you do  
With Land, that have a Portion in your brain,  
Above all Legacies or heritage?  Young Pal. 
I conceive you!  Elder Pal. 
O to live here, i'th' fair Metropolis  
Of our great Isle, a free Inheritor  
Of every modest, or voluptuous wish,  
Thy young desires can breathe; and not obliged  
Toth' Ploughman's toils, or lazy Reapers sweat;  
To make the world thy Farm, and every Man  
Less witty than thyself, Tenant for life;  
These are the glories that proclaim a true  
Philosophy, and Soul, in him that climbs  
To reach them with neglect of Fame and Life!  Young Pal. 
He carries it bravely! As he had felt  
Nothing that fits his own remorse; but know,  
Sir Eagle, th'higher that you fly, the less  
You will appear to us, dim sighted fowl,  
That flutter here below. Brother, farewell!  
They say, the Lady of this house, groans for  
Your love, the tame sick fool is rich; let not  
Your pride beguile your profit! Exit.  Elder Pall. 
I suspect him! Not all the skill I have  
In Reason, or in Nature can pronounce  
Him free, from the defeat upon my Gold,  
And jewels! 'twas like a Brother! but for  
His two Confederates; though I should meet  
Them in a Mist, darker than Night, or Southern Fens  
Produce, my Eyes would be so courteous sure,  
To let me know them!  Enter Ample, carried in as sick in a Couch, Luce, Engine, Ginet. Engin. 
Room! More air! if heavenly Ministers  
Have leisure to consider or assist  
The best of Ladies, let them show it now!—  Luce. 
How do you Madam? Oh, I shall lose  
The chief example of internal love  
Of gentle grace, and feature, that the world  
Did ever show, to dignify our Sex!  Eng. 
Work on! I must stand Sentinel beneath! Exit.  Elder Pal. 
Is her disease grown up to such extremity?  
Then it is time, I seem to suffer too;  
Or else my hopes will prove sicker than she!  Luce. 
More cruel than the panther on his prey!  
Why speak you not? no comfort from your Lips;  
You Sir that are the cause of this sad hour!  Gin. 
He stands as if his Legs had taken root;  
A very Mandrake!  Elder Pall. 
How comes it (Lady) all these Beauties that  
But yesterday did seem to teach  
The Spring to flourish and rejoice, so soon  
Are withered from our sight.  Amp. 
It is in vain, t'inquire the reason of  
That grief, whose remedy is past; had you  
But felt so much remorse, or softness in  
Your heart, as would have made you nobly just,  
And pitiful; the Mourners of this day  
Had wanted then, their Dead to weep upon!  Eld. Pall. 
Am I the cause? forbid it gentle heaven!  
The Virgins of our Land, when this is told,  
Will raze the Monumental building, where  
My buried flesh shall dwell, and throw my dust  
Before the sportive winds, till I am blown  
About in parcels less than Eyesight can  
Discern!  Luce. 
she listens to you sir?  Eld. Pal. 
If I am guilty of neglect;  
Give me a taste of duty, name how far  
I shall submit to love! the mind hath no  
Disease above recovery, if we  
Have courage to remove despair!  Ample. 
O sir, the pride and scorns, with which you first  
Did entertain my passions, and regard,  
Have worn my easy heart away; my breast  
Is emptier than mine Eyes; that have distilled  
Their Balls to Funeral Dew! It is too late!  Luce. 
Ginet, my fears have in them too much Prophecy,  
I told thee she would ne'er recover!  Ginet. 
For my poor part, I wish no easier Bed  
At night, than the cold grave where she must lie!  Amp. 
Luce, Luce! entreat the Gentleman to sit!  Luce. 
Sit near her sir! You hear her voice grows weak!  Ample. 
That you may see your scorns could not persuade  
My love, to thoughts of danger or revenge;  
The faint remainder of my breath, I'll waste  
In Legacies, and Sir to you, you shall  
Have all, the Laws will suffer me to give!  Eld. Pall. 
Who, I? sweet Saint, take heed of your last deeds!  
Your bounty carries cunning Murder in't;  
I shall be killed with kindness, and depart  
Weeping, like a fond Infant, whom the Nurse  
Would soothe, too early to his bed!  Luce. 
Nay Sir, no remedy, you must have all:  
Though you procured her death; the world shall not  
Report; she died beholding to you!  Ginet. 
Go to her Sir, she'd speak with you again!  Ample. 
Sir, if mine Eyes, in all their health and glory,  
Had not the power to warm you into Love,  
Where are my hopes, now they are dim, and have  
Almost forgot the benefit of light!  Eld. Pal. 
Not love! Lady! Queen of my heart! what oaths  
Or execrations can persuade your faith  
From such a cruel jealousy!  Ampl. 
I'd have some testimony Sir; if but  
T'assure the world, my love, and bounty at  
My death, were both conferred on one, that showed  
So much requital, as declares he was  
Of Gentle humane race!  Eld. Pall. 
What shall I do?  
Prescribe me dangers now, horrid as those  
Which Midnight fires beget, in Cities overgrown;  
Or Winter storms produce at Sea, and try  
How far my love will make me venture to  
Augment th'esteem of yours!  Ampl. 
That trial of your love which I request  
Implies no danger Sir; 'tis not in me  
T'urge any thing, but what your own desires  
Would choose!  Elder Pall. 
Name it! like eager Mastiffs, chained  
From the encounter of their game, my hot  
Fierce appetite diminisheth my strength!  Ampl. 
'Tis only this: for fear some other should  
Enjoy you when I'm cold, in my last sleep;  
I would entreat you to sit hear, grow sick,  
Languish, and die with me!  Elder Pall. 
How! die with you! Takes Luce aside.  
'Twere fit, you hastened her to write down all  
She can bestow, and in some form of Law:  
I fear, she's mad! her senses are so lost,  
she'll never find them to her use again!  Luce. 
I pray Sir why?  Eld. Pall. 
Did you not hear what a fantastic suit  
She makes, that I would sit and die with her?  Luce. 
Does this request seem strange? you will do little  
For a Lady, that deny to bring her  
Onward her last journey; or is't your thrift?  
Alas you know, souls travel without charge!  Elder Pall. 
Her little skull is tainted too!  Ampl. 
Is he not willing Luce?  Eld. Pall. 
My best dear Lady, I am willing to  
Resign myself to any thing but death!  
Do not suspect my kindness now; In troth  
I've business upon Earth will hold me here  
At least a score or two of years; but when  
That's done; I am content to follow you!  Amp. 
If this persuasion cannot reach at your  
Consent; yet let me witness so much love  
In you, as may enforce you languish, and  
Decay, for my departure from your sight.  Luce. 
Can you do less than languish for her death?  
Sit down here, and begin! true sorrow Sir,  
If you have any in your breast will quickly  
Bring you low enough!  Eld. Pall. 
Alas good Ladies! do you think my languishment  
And grief is to begin upon me now?  
Heaven knows how I have pined, and groaned, since first  
Your letter gave me knowledge of the cause!  Luce. 
It is not seen Sir in your face!  Eld. Pall. 
My face! I grant you; I bate inwardly!  
I'm scorched, and dried, with sighing to a Mummy:  
My Heart, and Liver are not big enough  
To choke a Daw! A Lamb laid on the Altar for  
A sacrifice hath much more entrails in't!  Luce. 
Yet still, your sorrow altars not your face?  Eld. Pall. 
Why no, I say! No man, that ever was  
Of Nature's making hath a face moulded  
With less help for hypocrisy than mine!  Ginet. 
Great pity Sir!  Eld. Pall. 
Though I endured the Diet and the Flux;  
Lay seven days buried up toth' Lips like a  
Deceased sad Indian in warm sand; whilst his  
Afflicted Female wipes his salt foam off  
With her own hair, feeds him with Buds of Guacum  
For his salad; and Pulp of Salsa for  
His Bread; I say, all this endured, would not  
Concern my face! Nothing can decline that!  Amp. 
Yet you are used Sir, to bate inwardly!  Eld. Pall. 
More than heirs unlanded, or unjointed Wives.  Enter Engine. Engin. 
What shall we do? Sir Tyrant Thrift's come home!  Eld. Pall. 
Sir Tyrant Thrift!  Luce. 
My Lady's Guardian Sir!  Amp. 
He meets th'expected hour, just to my wish!  Luce. 
What, hath he brought a husband for my Lady?  Engin. 
There is a certain one legged Gentleman,  
Whose better half of limbs is wood; for whom  
Kind Nature did provide no hands, to prevent  
Stealing; and to augment his gracefulness,  
he's crooked as a witch's been!  Luce. 
Is he so much wood?  Engin. 
So much, that if my Lady were in health,  
And married to him, as her Guardian did  
Propose, we should have an excellent generation  
Of bedstaff.  Luce. 
When does he come?  Engin. 
tonight if his slow Litter will consent;  
For they convey him tenderly, lest his  
Sharp bones should grate together: Sir Palatine,  
I wish you could escape my Master's sight!  Eld. Pall. 
Is he coming hither?  Engin. 
he's at the door! My Lady's sickness was  
No sooner told him, but he straight projects  
To proffer her a Will of his own making!  
He means Sir to be heir of all: if he  
Should see you here, he would suspect my loyalty,  
And doubt you for some cunning Instrument,  
That means to interrupt his covetous hopes!  Eld. Pall. 
Then I'll be gone.  Engin. 
No Sir, he needs must meet you in  
Your passage down! beside, it is not fit  
For you, and your great hopes, with my dependency  
On both, to have you absent when my Lady dies;  
I know you must have all: Sir I could wish  
That we might hide you here!—  
Draw out the Chest within, that's big enough  
To hold you: it were dangerous to have  
My Lady's Guardian to find you Sir!— They draw in a Chest.  Eld. Pall. 
How! laid up like a brushed Gown, under lock  
And key! By this good light, not I!  Luce. 
O Sir, if but to save the honour of  
Your Mistress fame, what will he think to see  
So comely, and so straight a Gentleman  
Converse here with a Lady in her Chamber!  
And in a time that makes for his suspicion too,  
When he's from home!  Eld. Pall. 
I hate enclosure, I;  
It is the humour of a distressed Rat!  Ginet. 
It is retirement Sir, and you'll come forth  
Again, so sage!  Ampl. 
Sir Palatine!—  Luce. 
Your Lady calls Sir, to her, and be kind!  Amp. 
Will you permit the last of all my hours  
Should be defiled with Infamy, proclaimed  
By lewder Tongues, to be unchaste e'en at  
My death? what will my Guardian guess to find  
You here?  Eld. Pal. 
No more, I'll in! but think on't gentle Lady!  
First to bate inwardly, and then to have  
My outward person shut thus and enclosed  
From day light, and your company; I say  
But think, if't be not worse than death!— He enters the Chest.  Amp. 
Lock him up Luce, safe as thy Maidenhead!—  Enter Sir Tyrant Thrift. Thrift. 
Engine, where's my charge Engine, my dear charge?  Engin. 
Sick as I told you Sir, and lost to all  
The hope, that earthly medicine can procure!  
Her Physicians have taken their last fees,  
And then went hence shaking their empty heads,  
As they had left less brain than hope!  Thrift. 
Alas poor Charge! come, let me see her Engine!  Luc. 
At distance Sir, I pray, for I have heard  
Your breath is somewhat sour, with overfasting Sir,  
On Holiday eves!  Thrift. 
Ha! what is she Engine?  Engin. 
A pure, good soul, one that your Ward desired  
For love and kindred's sake, t'have near her at  
Her death; she'll outwatch a long Rush Candle,  
And reads to her all night the Posy of  
Spiritual Flowers!  Thrift. 
Does she not gape for Legacies?  Engin. 
Fie no! there's a Cornelian Ring, perhaps  
She aims at, cost Ten Groats; or a wrought Smock,  
My Lady made now 'gainst her wedding Sir;  
Trifles which Maids desire to weep upon  
With Funeral Tales, after a Midnight Posset.  Thrift. 
Thou saidst below, she hath made me her heir.  Engin. 
Of all, e'en to her Slippers and her Pins!  Amp. 
Luce, methought Luce, I heard my guardian's voice!  Engin. 
It seems her senses are grown warm again;  
Your presence will recover her!  Thrift. 
Will it recover her, then I'll be gone!  Engin. 
No Sir, she'll straight grow cold again! On! on!  
She looks that you would speak to her.  Thrift. 
Alas poor Charge! I little thought to see  
This doleful day.  Amp. 
we all are mortal Sir!  Thrift. 
I've taken care, and labour, to provide  
A Husband for thee; he's in's Litter now,  
Hastening to Town; a fine young Gentleman!  
Only a little rumpled in the womb,  
With falls his Mother took, after his making.  Amp. 
Death is my husband now! but yet I thank  
You for your tender pains, and wish you would  
Continue it in quiet governing my Legacies,  
When I am past the power to see it Sir;  
You shall enjoy all!  Thrift. 
This will occasion more Church building;  
And raising of new Hospitals; there were  
Enough before; but Charge you'll have it so.  Amp. 
I'll make Sir one request; which I have hope,  
You'll grant in thankfulness to all my bounty!  Thrift. 
O dear Charge! any thing! Your Cousin here  
Shall witness the consent and Act,  Amp. 
Because I would not have my vanities  
Remain, as fond examples to persuade  
An imitation in those Ladies that  
Succeed my youthful Pride i'th' Town: my Plumes,  
Fantastic Flowers, and Chains: my haughty Rich  
Embroideries: my gaudy Gowns, and wanton jewels,  
I have locked within a Chest!  Luce. 
There Sir, there the Chest stands.  Ampl. 
And I desire it may be buried with me!  Thrift. 
Engine, take care Engine, to see it done!  Ampl. 
Now Sir, I beseech you leave me: for 'twill  
But make my death more sorrowful, thus to  
Continue my converse with one, I so  
Much love, and must forsake at last.  Thrift. 
Alack, alack! bury her tonight Engine!  Engin. 
Not Sir, unless she dies. Her Ancestors  
Have sojourned long here in St. Bartholomew's,  
And there's a Vault i'th' Parish Church, kept only  
For her Family; she must be buried there.  Thrift. 
I Engine, ay, and let me see; the Church  
Thou know'st, joins to my house, a good prevention  
From a large walk; 'twill save the charge of Torchlight.  Engin. 
What Funeral Guests? the neighbour's Sir, will look  
To be invited!  Thrift. 
No more than will suffice  
To carry down the Corpse; and thou know'st Engine,  
She is no great weight.  Engin. 
And what to entertain them Sir?  Thrift. 
A little Rosemary, which thou mayst steal  
From th'Temple Garden; and as many Comfits  
As might serve to christian a Watchman's Bastard:  
'twill be enough!  Engin. 
This will not do! Your Citizen  
Is a most fierce devourer Sir of Plums!  
Six will destroy as many as can make  
A Banquet for an Army!  Thrift. 
I'll have no more, Engine.  
I'll have no more! nor (d'you hear) no Burnt wine;  
I do not like this drinking healths toth' memory  
O'th' dead; it is profane.  Engin. 
You are obeyed!  
But Sir, let me advise you now to trust  
The care, and benefit of all your fate  
Presents you in this house, to my discretion;  
And get you instantly to horse again.  Thrift. 
Why Engine, speak?  Engin. 
In brief, you know, that all  
The Writings which concern your Wards estate,  
Lie at her Lawyers, fifteen Miles from hence!  
Your credit, he not knowing (Sir) she's sick,  
Will easily tempt them to your own Possession:  
Which, once enjoyed, y'are free from all litigious suits  
His envy might incense her Kindred to!  Thrift. 
Enough Engine, I am gone!  Engin. 
If you should meet the crooked Lover in  
His Litter Sir (as 'tis in your own rode)  
You may persuade him move like a Crab, backward;  
For here's no mixture, but with worms.  Thrift. 
'Tis well thought on Engine! farewell Engine!  
Be faithful, and be rich!—  Engin. 
My breeding and  
Good manners Sir, teach me t'attend your bounty!  Thrift. 
But Engine, I could wish, she would be sure  
To die too night!  Engin. 
Alas good Soul! I'll undertake  
She shall do any thing to please you Sir! Exit Thrift.  Ampl. 
Engine, thou hast wrought above the power  
Of Accident, or Art!  Engin. 
If you consider't with a just  
And liberal brain: first, to prevent  
Th'access, and tedious visits of the Fiend  
His love-sick Monster; and then rid him hence,  
Upon a journey to preserve this house  
Empty, and free to celebrate the rest  
Of our designs!  Luce. 
This Engine, is thy Holiday!— Luce knocks at the Chest.  
What hoa! Sir Palatine, are you within?  Elder Pall. 
Is Sir Tyrant Thrift gone? open Lady! open!  Luce. 
The Casement Sir I will, a little to  
Increase your witship's allowance of air!— opens a wicket at th'end of the Chest.  
But th'troth, for liberty of limbs, you may  
As soon expect it in a Galley Sir,  
After six Murders and a Rape!  Eld. Pall. 
How, Lady of the Lawn!  Luce. 
Sir Lancelot,  
You may believe't, if your discreet faith please;  
This Tenement is cheap; here you shall dwell,  
Keep home, and be no wanderer!  Eld. Pal. 
The Pox take me if I like this! sure when  
Th'advice of th'Ancients is but asked, they'll say  
I am now worse, than in the state of a Bawd!  Engin. 
D'you know this Lady Sir?  Elder Pall. 
The Lady Ample!  
Her vails off too! and in the lusty garb  
Of health, and merriment! Now shall I grow  
As modest as a snail that in's affliction  
Shrinks up himself, and's horns into his shell,  
Ashamed still to be seen.  Ampl. 
Couldst thou believe,  
Thou bearded Babe! thou dull engenderer!  
Male rather in the back, than in the brain,  
That I could sicken for thy love? for th'cold  
Society of a thin Northern Wit!— Eld: Palatine sings.  Eld. Pal. 
Then Trojans wail with great remorse,  
The Greeks are locked i'th' wooden horse! Enter Yo:: Palatine.  Luce. 
Pall, come in Pall! 'tis done! the spacious Man  
Of Land, is now contented with his own length.  Ample. 
Your Brother's come to see you Sir!  Eld. Pa. 
Brother! Mad Girls these I couldst thou believe't sirrah!  
I am Coffined up like a Salmon Pie,  
New sent from Den'shire for a token! Come,  
Break up the Chest!  Yo. Pall. 
Stay Brother! whose Chest is it?  El. Pall. 
Thou'lt ask more questions than a Constable  
In's sleep! prithee dispatch!  Yo. Pall. 
Brother, I can,  
But mark the Malice and the envy of  
Your Nature: I am no sooner exalted  
To rich Possessions, and a glorious mien;  
But straight you tempt me to a forfeiture  
Of all; to commit Felony; break open Chests!  Elder Pall. 
O for Dame Patience! the fool's Mistress!  Yo. Pall. 
Brother, you have prayed well, heaven send her you!  
You must forsake your own fair fertile soil,  
To live here by your Wits!  Luce. 
And dream Sir of  
Enjoying goodly Ladies six yards high!  
With Satin Trains behind them ten yards long!  Amp. 
Clothed all in Purple, and embroidered with  
Embossments wrought in Imagery, the works  
O'th' ancient Poets drawn into similitude,  
And cunning shape!  Gin. 
And this attained Sir by your Wits!  Young Pall. 
Nothing could please your haughty palate but  
The Muskatelli, and Frantiniak Grape!  
Your Turin and your Tuscan veal, with Red  
Legged Partridge of the Genoa hills!  Engin. 
With your broad Liver o'th' venetian Goose;  
Fattened by a jew; and your aged carp,  
Bred i'th' Geneva Lake!  Ampl. Luce. Ginet. 
All this maintained Sir by your Wits!  Engin. 
And than you talked Sir of your Snails ta'en from  
The dewy Marble Quarries of Carrara,  
And soused in Luca Oil; with Cream of Switzerland,  
And Genoa paste.  Young Pall. 
Your angelot's of Brie!  
Your Marsolini, and parmesan of Lodi!  
Your Malamucka melons, and Cicilian Dates!  
And then to close your proud voluptuous Maw,  
marmalade made, by the cleanly Nuns of Lisbon!  Ample. Luce. Ginet. 
And still thus feasted by your wits!  Eld. Pall. 
Deafened with tyranny! is there no end!  Ample. 
Yes Sir, an end of you; you shall be now  
Conveyed into a close dark Vault; there keep  
My silent Grandsire company; and all  
The Music of your groans, engross to your own ears!  Elder Pall. 
How! buried, and alive?  Yo. Pall. 
Brother! your hand!—  
Farewell! I'm for the North! the fame of this  
Your voluntary death, will there be thought  
Pure courtesy to me; I mean to take  
Possession sir, and patiently converse  
With all those Hinds, those herds, and Flocks,  
That you disdained in fullness of your Wit!  Luce. 
Help Pall to carry him! he takes it heavily!—  Eld. Pall. 
I'll not endure't! fire! murder! fire! treason!  
Murder! treason! fire!—  Amp. 
Alas you are not heard!  
The house contains none but ourselves! Ex. carrying out the Chest.  Enter Thwack, Pert, Meager. Pert. 
We bring you sir, commends from Palatine!  Thwack. 
I had as'lief, y' had brought it from the Devil!  
Together with his horns boiled to a jelly,  
For a Cordial against lust!  Meag. 
We mean the younger Palatine; one Sir,  
That loves your person, and laments this chance,  
Which his false brother hath exposed you to!  Pert. 
And as we told you sir, by his command,  
We have compounded with the Constable;  
In whose dark house, y'are now a Prisoner!  
But sir, take't on my Faith; you must disburse!  
For Gold is a restorative, as well  
To liberty as health!  Thwack. 
And you believe  
(It seems) that your small-tiny Officer  
Will take his Unction in the Palm as lovingly,  
As your exalted Grandee, that awes all  
With hideous voice, and face!  Pert. 
Even so the Moderns render it!  Thwack. 
But Gentlemen, you ask a hundred pounds;  
'tis all I've left!  Pert. 
Sir do but think what a  
Prodigious blemish it will be, both to  
Your ingenuity, and fame, to be  
Betrayed by one, that is believed, no wittier than  
yourself, and lie imprisoned for a Bawd!  Thwack. 
Sir name it not! You kill me through the ear!  
I'd rather Sir, you'd take my Mother from  
Her grave, and put her to do Penance in  
Her winding sheet: there is the Sum!—  Meag. 
I'll in Sir, and discharge you! Exit Meager.  Thw. 
These carnal Mulcts and Tributes are designed  
Only to such vain people as have Land;  
Are you, and your friend Landed Sir?  Pert. 
Such land as we can share Sir in the Map!  Thw. 
lo' youyou there now! These live by their Wits!  
Why should not I take the next Key I meet,  
And open this great head; to try, if there  
Be any brains left, but sour Curds, and plumbroth!  
Cozened in my Youth! cozened in my Age!  
Sir, do you judge, if I have cause to curse  
This false, inhuman Town! when I was young,  
I was arrested for a stale commodity  
Of Nutcrackers, long jigs, and Casting Tops:  
Now I am old, imprisoned for a Bawd!  Pert. 
These are sad Tales!  Thw. 
I will write down toth' Country, to dehort  
The Gentry from coming hither, Letters  
Of strange dire News; You shall disperse them Sir!  Pert. 
Most faithfully!  Thw. 
That there are Lents, six years long proclaimed by th'State!  
That our French and Deal Wines are poisoned so  
With Brimstone by the Hollander, that they  
Will only serve for Medicine to recover  
Children of the Itch; and there is not left  
Sack enough, to mull for a parson's cold!  Pert. 
This needs must terrify!  Thw. 
That our Theatres are razed down; and where  
They stood, hoarse Midnight Lectures preached by Wives  
Of Comb-makers, and Midwives of tower-wharf!  Pert. 
'Twill take impregnably!  Thw. 
And that a new Plantation Sir (mark me)  
Is made i'th' Coven Garden, from the Sutlery  
O'th' German Campes, and the Suburbs of Paris,  
Where such a salt disease regnes as will make  
Sassafras dearer than Unicorns Horn!  Pert. 
This cannot choose but fright the Gentry hence;  
And more impoverish the Town, than a  
Subversion of their Fair of Bartholmew,  
The absence of the Terms, and Court!  Thw. 
You shall (if my projections thrive) in less  
(Sir) than a year; stable your horses in  
The New Exchange, and graze them in the Old!—  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Meager, Queasie, Snore, mistress: Snore. Pert. 
jog off! there's Pall, treating for your liberty!  Young Pall. 
The Canopy, the Hangings, and the Bed,  
Are worth more than your Rent! come, y'are overpaid!  
Besides, the Gentleman's betrayed! he is no Bawd!  Snor. 
Truly, a very civil Gentleman!  
'Las, he hath only roared, and sworn, and cursed  
Since he was ta'en: no bawdry I'll assure ye!  Mrs.: Snor. 
Gossip Queasy! what a goodyear would ye have?  Quea. 
I am content, if you and I were friends!  Young Pall. 
Come, come agree! 'tis I that ever bleed,  
And suffer in your wars!  Mist. Snor. 
Sweet Master Palatine, hear me but speak!  
Have I not often said, Why neighbour Queasy,  
Come to my house; beside, your Daughter Mall,  
You know, last Pompeon time, dined with me thrice!  
When my child's best yellow stockings were missing;  
And a new Pewter porringer marked with P. L.  Snor. 
I for Elizabeth Snore!  Mrs.: Snor. 
The Pewterer that marked it was my Uncle!  Quea. 
Why, did my Daughter steal your goods?  Mist. Snor. 
You hear me say nothing! but there is  
As bad as this (I warrant ye) learned at  
The Backhouse! I'll have an Oven o'mine own shortly!  Young Pall. 
Come, no more words! there's to reconcile you  
In Burnt wine, and Cake! Go, get you all in!  
I'm full of business, and strange Mystery!  Exeunt Snore, mistress: Snore, Queasie. Meag. 
A hundred Pall! 'twas all his store; it lies  
Here my brave Boy, warm, and secure in Pouch!  Pert. 
we'll share't anon.— What need your blush Sir Morglay,  
Like a Maid newly undone in a dark  
Entry? There are disasters sure, as bad  
As yours Recorded in the City Annals!  Thw. 
Your Brother is a Gentleman of a  
Most even, and blessed composition, Sir;  
His very blood is made of Holy-Water,  
Less salt, than Almond-milk!  Young Pall. 
My silly reprehensions were despised;  
you'd be his Disciple, and follow him,  
In a new Path, unknown to his own feet.  
Yet I've walked in it since; and prospered as  
You see, without or Land, or Tenement.  Thw. 
'tis possible to live by'rour Wits! that is  
As evident as light, no humane learning  
Shall advise me from that Faith!  Young Pall. 
Sir Knight, what will you give worthy my brain,  
And me; if after a concealment of  
Your present shame, I can advise you, how,  
T'achieve such store of wealth, and treasure, as  
Shall keep you here, th'exemplar glory of  
The Town, a long whole year, without relief  
Or charge, from your own Rents. This (I take it)  
Was the whole Pride, at which, some few days since,  
Your fancy aimed!  Thw. 
This was Sir in the hours  
Of haughtiness and hope! but now—  Young Pal. 
I'll do't: whilst my poor Brother too; low, and  
Declined, shall see, and envy it.  Thwack. 
Live in full port; observed, and wondered at?  
Wine, ever flowing in large Saxon rumkins  
About my board; with your soft sarsenet smock  
At night; and foreign Music to entrance?  Young Pall. 
All this, and more than thy invention can  
Invite thee too.  Thw. 
I'll make thee heir of my  
Estate! take my right hand, and your two friends  
For witnesses!  Young Pall. 
Enough! hear me with haste!  
The Lady Ample's dead!— Nay there are things  
Have chanced since your concealment far more fit  
For wonder Sir, than this: Out of a silly piety,  
T'avoid a thirst of Gold, and gaudy Pride  
I'th' world; sh'ath buried with her in a Chest,  
Her jewels, and her Clothes; beside, as I'm  
Informed by Luce (my wise Intelligence)  
Five thousand pounds in Gold; a Legacy,  
Left by her Aunt more than her Guardian knew!  Thwac. 
Well, what of this?  Young Pall. 
yourself, and I, joined Sir in a most firm  
And loyal League, may rob this Chest!  Thwack. 
Marry, and will!  Young Pall. 
Then when your promise is but ratified,  
Take all the treasure for your own expense!  Thw. 
Come let us go; My fingers burn till they  
Are telling it! The night will grow upon's!  
Only you and I, I'll not trust new Faces:  
Dismiss these Gentlemen!  Young Pall. 
At the next street Sir!  Thw. 
This is at least a grin of Fortune, if  
Not a fair smile. I'm still for my old Problem;  
Since the living rob me, I'll rob the dead!  Young Pall. 
On my delicious Pert! Now is the time  
To make our Purses swell, and Spirits climb! Exeunt omnes.   

ACT. 5. SCEN. 1.  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Ample, Luce, Engine, with a Torch. Yo. Pall. 
Engine, draw out the Chest, and open the Wicket!  
Let us not hinder him the air, since 'tis  
Become his food!  Elder Pall. 
Who's there? what are you? speak!  Amp. 
A brace of mourning virgin's Sir; that had  
You died in Love, and in your Wits, would now  
Have brought Roses, and Lilies, Buds of the Brier,  
And Summer Pinks to strew upon your Hearse!  Eld. Pall. 
Then you resolve me dead!  Luce. 
'Twere good that you would so resolve yourself!  Young Pall. 
She counsels you to wise and severe thoughts;  
Why, you are no more mortified, than Men  
That are about to dance the morris!  Eld. Pall. 
Ladies, and Brother too (whom I begin  
To worship now, for tenderness of heart)  
Can you believe, I am so leaden, stupid,  
And so very a Fish, to think you dare  
Thus murder me in bravery of Mirth,  
You have gone far: part of my sufferance I  
Confess a justice to me!  Amp. 
O, do you so!  
Hath your heart, and brain met upon that point;  
And rendered you silly to your own thoughts!  Eld. Pall. 
Somewhat mistaken i'th' projection of  
My journey hither! Three hours in a Chest  
Among the dead; will profit more than three  
Years in a Study; 'Mongst Fathers, Schoolmen,  
And Philosophers!  Yo. Pal. 
And y'are persuaded now, that there is relative  
Toth' maintaining of a poor younger Brother,  
Something beside his Wits?  Elder Pall. 
'Tis so conceived!  Ample. 
And that we Ladies of the Town, or Court,  
Have not such waxen hearts, that every beam  
From a hot lover's Eye, can melt them through  
Our Breasts?  Eld. Pall. 
Faith, 'tis imagined too!  Luce. 
That though th'unruly Appetites of some  
Perverted few, of our frail Sex, have made  
Them yield their honours to unlawful love;  
Yet there is no such want of you Male-sinners  
As should constrain them hire you to't with Gold?  Eld. Pall. 
Y'have taught me a new Music, I am all  
Consent, and concordance!  Engin. 
And that, the nimble packing hand, the swift  
Disordered shuffle, or the slur; or his  
More base employment, that with youth, and an  
Eternal back, engenders for his bread;  
Do all belong to Men, that may be said  
To live sir, by their Sins, not by their Wits!  Eld. Pall. 
Sir, whom I love not, nor desire to love,  
I am of your mind too!  Young Pall. 
madam, a fair conversion, 'tis now fit  
I sue unto you, for his liberty!  Ample. 
Alas he hath so profited in this  
Retirement, that I fear he will not willingly  
Come out!  Eld. Pall. 
O Lady, doubt it not! Open the Chest!  Amp. 
A little patience Sir! Enter Ginet.  Ginet. 
Madam, we are undone, your Guardian is  
At door, knocking as if he meant to wake  
All his dead Neighbours in the Church!  Ample. 
So soon returned! it is not midnight yet!  Engin. 
I know the bait that tempts him back with such  
Strange haste; and have according to your will  
Provided (Madam) to betray his hopes!  Ample. 
Excellent Engine!  Engine. 
This Key conveys you through the Chancel to  
The house Gallery! My way lies here; I'll let  
Him in, and try how our design will relish!— Exit Engine.  Ample. 
Come sir, it is decreed in our wise Counsel,  
You must be laid some distance from this place!  Eld. Pall. 
Pray save your labour (Madam) I'll come forth!  Amp. 
No sir, not yet!  Eld. Pal. 
Brother, a cast of your voice!  Yo. Pall. 
She hath the Key Brother! 'tis but an hour's  
Dark contemplation more!  Eld. Pall. 
Madam, hear me speak.  Ampl. 
Nay, no beginning of orations now;  
This is a time of great dispatch, and haste;  
We have more plots than a General in a siege!— Ex. carrying out the Chest.  Enter Thrift, Engine. Engine. 
None of the Writings Sir, and yet perplex  
yourself, with so much speed in a return!  Thrift. 
The Lawyer was from home, but Engine, I  
Had hope to have prevented by my haste,  
Though not her Funeral, yet the Funeral of  
The Chest; Ah dear Engine, tell me but why  
So much pure innocent Treasure, should be  
Thus thrown into a dark forgetfulness!  Engine. 
I thought, I had encountered his intents!  
All Sir, that Law, allowed her bounty to  
Bestow, is yours; but for the Chest; trust me,  
'Tis buried sir; the Key is here sir, of no use!  Thrift. 
Hah, Engine! Give it me!—  Engin. 
And Sir, to vex your meditation more,  
Though not with Manners, yet with truth; know there  
Is hidden in that Chest, a plenteous heap  
Of Gold; together with a Rope of most  
Inestimable Pearl, left by her late  
Dead Aunt by will, and kept from your discovery!  Thrift. 
Is this true, Engine?  Engin. 
That precise Chit Luce, her cousin Puritan  
Was at th'interring of't; concealed it till  
The Funeral forms were passed; and then forsooth,  
She boasted that it was a pious Means,  
To avoid covetous desires i'th' world!  Thrift. 
These Funeral tales (Engine) are sad indeed;  
Able to melt an Eye, though harder than  
That heart, which did consent to so much cruelty  
Upon the harmless Treasure!  Eng. 
I mourn within Sir too!  Thrift. 
Give me the Key, that leads me from my house,  
Unto the Chancel door!  Engin. 
'tis very late Sir, whither will you go?  Thrift. 
Never too late too pray; My heart is heavy!  Engin. 
Where shall I wait you Sir?  Thrift. 
At my low Gallery door, I may chance stay long.  Engin. 
This takes me more than all the kindness Fortune  
Ever showed me: a decent transmutation.  
I am no more your Steward, but your Spy! Exeunt.  Enter Yo:: Palatine, Pert, Meager, Snore, and Watchmen. Young Pall. 
There, there's more Money for your Watch; methinks  
Th'ave not drunk Wine enough; they do not chirp!  Snor. 
Your Wine mates them, they understand it not.  
But they have very good capacity in Ale;  
Ale Sir, will heat 'em more than your beef Brews!  Young Pall. 
Well, let them have Ale then.  Snor. 
O Sir, 'twill make 'em sing like the Silk-knitters  
Of Cock-lane!  Young Pall. 
Meager, go you to Sir Tyrant Thrifts house,  
Luce, and the Lady are alone, they will  
Have cause to use your diligence, make haste!  Meag. 
Your dog, tied to a Bottle, shall not outrun me! Exit.  Young Pall. 
Pert, stay you here with Master Constable;  
And when occasion calls, see that you draw  
Your lusty Billmen forth; bravely advanced  
Under the Colours of Queen Ample, and  
myself, her General!  Pert. 
If Ale can fortify, fear not! where's Sir Morglay?  Young Pall. 
I'm now, to meet him i'th' Churchyard; th'old Blade  
Skulks there like a tame filcher, as he had  
ne'er stolen 'bove Eggs from Market women;  
Robbed an Orchard, or a Cheese loft!  Snor. 
we'll wait your worship in this corner.  Young Pall. 
No stirring, till I either come, or send.  Snor. 
Pray Sir let's not stay long, 'tis a cold night;  
And I have nothing on my Bed at home,  
But a thin Coverlet, and my wives Say Petticoat:  
she'll ne'er sleep (poor soul) till I come home  
To keep here warm!  Young Pall. 
You shall be sent for straight!  
Be merry my dull Sons o'th' Night, and Chirp! Exit.  Snor. 
Come, neighbour Runlet! sighing pays no Rent,  
Though the Land-Lady be in love! Sing out—  They sing a Catch in four Parts. 
With lantern on Stall; at Trea Trip we play,  
For Ale, Cheese, and Pudding, till it be day:  
And for our Breakfast (after long sitting)  
we steal a Street Pig, o'th' Constables getting.  Enter Engine. Engin. 
Sir, draw down your Watch into the Church,  
And let 'em lie hid close by the Vestry door!  Pert. 
Is he there already?  Engin. 
Fat carrier's Sir, make not more haste to bed,  
Nor lean Philosophers to rise; I've so  
Prepared things, that he'll find himself mistaken!  Pert. 
Close by the Vestry door!  Eng. 
Right sir,  
I'll to my Lady, and expect th'event of your surprise!  Pert. 
Follow Master Constable, one, and one:  
All in a File!— Exeunt.  Enter Thrift, with a Candle. Thrift. 
I cannot find where they have laid her Coffin!  
But there's the Chest; I'll draw it out, that I  
May have more room, to search, and rifle it!—  
The weight seems easy to me, though my strength  
Be old; how long, thou bright all powerful mineral,  
Might'st thou lie hid, ere the dull dead, that are  
Entombed about thee here, could reach the Sense,  
To turn wise Thieves, and steal thee from oblivion!— opens it, and finds a Halter.  
How! a Halter! what Fiend affronts me with  
This Emblem! Is this the Rope of Orient Pearl?—  Enter Pert, Snore, Watchmen. Pert. 
Now I have told you Master Constable,  
The entire plot; mark but, how like that Chest,  
Is to the other, where the Elder Palatine  
Lies a Perdu; Engine contrived them both!  Thrift. 
Hah! what are these, the Constable and Watch?  Pert. 
Cease on him for no less than sacrilege!  Thrift. 
Why neighbours, Gentlemen!  Pert. 
Away with him.  Snor. 
we shall know now, who stole the Wainscot Cover  
From the Font, and the Vicar's Surplice!  Pert. 
Alas grave Sir, become a forfeiture  
Toth' King, for Sacrilege!  Thrif. 
Hear me but speak!  Snor. 
No, not in a cause against the King!  Pert. 
Lead to's own house! he shall be Prisoner there,  
And locked up safe enough.  Thrift. 
Undone for ever!— Exeunt.  Enter Yo:: palate: Thwack, with an Iron Crow, and dark Lantern. Thw. 
Why this was such a firk of Piety,  
I ne'er heard of: Bury her Gold with her?  
'tis strange her old shoes were not interred too;  
For fear the days of Edgar should return,  
When they coined Leather.  Yo. Pal. 
Come Sir, lay down your Instrument!  Thw. 
Why so?  Young Pal. 
I'm so taken with thy free jolly Nature,  
I cannot for my heart proceed to more  
Defeat upon thy liberty: all that  
I told thee were rank lies!  Thw. 
How! no treasure trover!  Young Pal. 
Not so much as will pay for that small Candle light  
We waste to find it out!  Thwack. 
I thank you Sir!— Flings down the Crow of Iron.  Yo. Pal. 
You shall have cause, when you hear more; to this  
Dark region Sir, solemn, and silent, as  
Your thoughts must be, ere they are mortified.  
Have I now brought you, to perceive what an  
Immense large Ass (under your favour Knight)  
You are to be seduced, to such vain stratagems  
By that more profound Fop, your friend, my Brother!  Thw. 
How had I been served, if I'd brought my scales  
Hither, to weigh this Gold? but on! your brother!  
Whose name (let me tell you first) sounds far worse  
To me than does a Sergeant to a young  
Indebted Lover, that's arrested in his Coach,  
And with his Mistress by him!  Young Pall. 
You are believed: but will you now confirm  
Me to your grace and love, if I shall make't  
Appear, that in a kind revenge of what  
You suffered Sir, I've made this false, and great  
Seducer of Mankind, to suffer more.  Thw. 
The Legend, Talmud, nor the Alcharon,  
Have not such doubtful tales as these; but make't  
Appear, I would have evidence!  Young Pal. 
Then take't on my Religion Sir, he was  
Laid up in durance for a Bawd before  
He betrayed you to the same preferment!  Thw. 
Shall this be justified, when my disgrace  
Comes to be known; wilt thou then witness it?  Young Pal. 
With a deep oath! And Sir, to tempt more of  
Your favours on poor me, that ever mourned  
For all your sufferings; know you shall now  
See him enclosed in a blind Chest; where he  
Lies bathed Sir, in a greater sweat than ere  
Cornelius took in his own Tub!  Thw. 
Here amongst Sepulchers, and melancholy bones:  
Let me but see't; and I will die for joy,  
To make thee instantly my heir!  Yo. Pal. 
You shall; and yet ere the Sun rise, find him  
Enthralled too in a new distress!  Thw. 
Dost want money? bring me to Parchment and  
A Scrivener, I'll seal out two pound of Wax.— Yo. Pall: knocks at the Chest.  Young Pal. 
You Sir, my nearest Ally, are you asleep?  Elder Pal. 
O Brother, art thou come! quick, let me forth.  Young Pal. 
Here is a certain friend of yours presents  
His loving visit Sir!— Opens the Wicket.  Eld. Pall. 
Sir Morglay Thwack?  
I had rather have seen my sister naked!  Thwack. 
What, like a bashful Badger do you draw  
Your head into your hole again? Come sir,  
Out with that sage Noddle, that has contrived  
So cunningly for me, and your dear self!  Eld. Pall. 
Here, take my eyelids Knight, and sew'em up,  
I dare not see thy face!  Thwack. 
But what think you  
Of a new journey from the North, to live  
Here by your Wits; or midnight visits sir,  
To the mogul's Niece!  Eld. Pall. 
I have offended Knight!  
Whip me with wire, headed with Rowels of  
Sharp Ripon Spurs! I'll endure any thing  
Rather than thee!  Thwack. 
we have (I thank your bounteous brain)  
Been entertained with various consorts sir,  
Of whispering Lutes, to soothe us into slumbers,  
Spirits of Clare to bathe our Temples in,  
And then the wholesome womb of woman too,  
That never teemed, all this for nothing sir!  Young Pall. 
Come, I'll let him forth!  Thwack. 
Rogue! if thou lov'st me!  
Nay, let him be confined thus, one short month!  
I'll send him down to Country Fairs for a  
New motion made, b'a German engineer!  Young Pall. 
'Las, he is my Brother.  Thwack. 
Or for a solitary Ape,  
Lead captive thus by th' Hollander, because  
He came aloft for Spain, and would not for the States!  Young Pall. 
Sir Morglay leave your lantern here, and stay  
My coming at yond door; I'll let him out!  
But for the new distress, I promised on  
His person, take it on my manhood sir,  
He feels it straight!  Thwack. 
Finely ensnared again, and instantly!  Young Pall. 
Have a good faith, and go! Exit Thwack.  Eld. Pall. 
Dear Brother, wilt thou give me liberty!  Young Pall. 
Upon condition sir, you kiss these Hilts,  
Swear not to follow me, but here remain  
Until the Lady Ample shall consent,  
Toth' freedom I bestow!— He kisses the Hilts.  Eld. Pall. 
'tis done! a vow inviolate! He opens the Chest and lets him out.  Yo. Pall. 
Now silence Brother! not one curse, nor thanks—  Exit Yo. Pall. Eld. Pall. 
Fate, and a good Star speed me! though I have  
Long since amazed myself e'en to a Marble,  
Yet I have courage left, to ask, what this  
Might mean? Was ever Two legged Man thus used!—  Enter Pert, Snore, & Watchmen. Pert. 
Pall, and his friend are gone, I must not stay  
His sight; but after you have ceased upon him  
Lead him a Prisoner to the Lady too.— Exit Pert.  Sno. 
Warrant ye, though he were Gog, or Heldebrand!— they lay hold on him.  Eld. Pal: 
How now? What mean you Sirs?  Snore. 
Yield to the Constable.  Eld. Pal. 
'Tis yielded sir, that you are Constable!  
But where have I offended!  Snore. 
Here Sir, you have committed Sacrilege,  
And robbed an Alderman's Tomb, of himself,  
And his Two Sons kneeling in Brass!  Eld. Pal. 
How, Flay Monuments of their Brazen skins?  Snore. 
Look, a Dark lantern, and an Iron Crow!  
Fine evidence for a jury!—  Eld. Pall. 
I like this plot! The Lady Ample and  
My Brother, have most rare, triumphant Wits;  
Now by this hand, I am most eagerly  
In love with both; I find I have deserved all;  
And am resolved t'hug them, and their designs;  
Though they afflict me more, and more! Whither must I go?  Snore. 
Away with him! Saucy fellow! examine  
The king's Constable!— Exeunt.  Enter Young Palatine, Thwack, Ample, Luce, Meager. Meager. 
I am become your Guardians jailor, Lady;  
he's safe locked in the Parlour, and there howls  
Like a Dog that sees a Witch flying!  Thwack. 
I long to hear how my wise Tutor thrives  
I'th' new defeat!  Amp. 
'Tis well you are converted!  
believe't that Gentleman deserves your thanks.  Thwack. 
Lady seal my conversion on you Lipp;  
'Tis the first leading Kiss, that I intend  
For after chastity!— kisses her.  Yo. Pal. 
Luce, see you make the proposition good  
Which I shall give my Brother from this Lady,  
Or I'll so swaddle your small Bones.  Luce. 
Sweet Pall, thou shalt. Madam, you'll please to stand  
To what I lately mentioned to your own desire?  Amp. 
To every particle, and more.— Enter Pert.  Pert. 
Your Brother's come; this room must be his prison.  Young Pall. 
'Way Luce, away: stand in the Closet Madam,  
That you may hear us both, and reach my call.  Thw. 
I'll stay, and see him.  Young Pall. 
No Knight; you are decreed Sir tyrant's judge:  
Go that way Sir, and force him to compound.  Thwack. 
I'll fine him soundly,  
Till's Purse shrink like a Bladder in the fire!— Ex. Amp. Luc. Thw. Meag. Pert.  Enter Snore, Elder Palatine. Snor. 
Here Sir, this is your jail, too good for such  
A great Offender.  Elder Pall. 
Sacrilege! very well.  
Now all the Pulpit Cushions, all the Hearse Clothes,  
And winding sheets, that have been stolen about  
The Town this year, will be laid to my charge!  Young Pall. 
Pray leave us Master Constable, and look  
Unto your other Bondman in the parlour.— Exit Snore.  Elder Pal. 
This is the wittiest offspring that our name  
Ere had: I love him beyond hope, or lust,  
My Father was no Poet sure, I wonder  
How he got him?  Yo. Pal. 
I know you curse me now.  Eld. Pal. 
Brother, introth you lie, and who ere believes it.  Young Pal. 
Indeed you do: Conjurers in a Circle,  
That have raised up a wrong spirit, curse not  
So much, nor yet so inwardly.  Elder Pal. 
I've a great mind to kiss thee.  Young Pal. 
You have not sure?  Elder Pal. 
I shall do't, and eat up thy lips so far,  
Till thoust nothing left to cover thy teeth.  Young Pal. 
And can you think all the afflictions you  
Endured, were merited; first, for misleading  
Morglay, your old friend; then, neglect of me,  
And haughty overvaluing yourself?  Elder Pal. 
Brother, I murmur not; the Traps that you  
Have laid, were so ingenious, I could wish  
To fall in them again.  Young Pal. 
The Lady Ample Sir,  
There is the great contriver that hath weaved  
These knots so intricate and safe: 'Las, I  
Was but her lowly Instrument.  Elder Pall. 
Ah that Lady! were I a King, she should  
Sit with me under my best Canopy,  
A silver Sceptre in her hand; with which,  
I'd give her leave to break my head for every fault  
I did commit.  Young Pall. 
But say, I bring this Lady Sir, unto  
Your lawful sheets; make her your bosom wife:  
Besides, the plenty of her heritage,  
How would it sound, that you had conquered her  
Who hath so often conquered you?  Eld. Pall. 
Dear Brother, no new plots.  Yo. Pall. 
Six thousand pounds Sir is your yearly Rent;  
A fair temptation to a discreet Lady:  
Luce, hath filled both mine Ears with hope; beside,  
I heard her say, she ne'er should meet a man,  
That she could more subdue with Wit, and Government.  Elder Pall. 
That I'll venture.  Young Pal. 
Well, my first bounty is your freedom Sir;  
Forth' Constable obeys no Law, but mine.  
And now, Madam! Appear!— Enter Ample, Luce.  Amp. 
Y'are welcome 'mongst the living Sir?  Elder Pal. 
Lady, no words; if y'have but so much Mercy  
As could secure one that your Eyes affect.  Amp. 
Why, you're grown arrogant again: d'you think  
They are so weak, to affect you?  Eld. Pal. 
I have a heart so kind unto myself,  
To wish they could; O we should live.  Amp. 
Not by our Wits.  Elder Pal. 
No, no! but with such soft content; still in  
Conspiracy, how to betray ourselves  
To new delights, keep harmony, with no  
More noise, than what the upper motions make;  
And this so constant too, Turtles themselves,  
Seeing our faith, shall slight their own, and pine  
With jealousy.  Amp. 
Luce, the youth talks sense now, no Medicine for  
The brain, like to captivity in a dark Chest.  Young Pall. 
O Madam, you are cruel!  Amp. 
Well my sad Convertite: joy yet at this:  
I've often made a vow, to marry on  
That very day my Wardship is expired:  
And two hours since, that liberty begun.  Luce. 
Nay, hear her out! your wishes are so saucy Sir.  Amp. 
And know, my glory is dispatch. My Ancestors  
Were of the fiery French, and taught me love,  
Hot eagerness, and haste!  Elder Pall. 
Let me be rude  
A while; lie with your judgement, and beget  
Sages on that! My dearest, chiefest Lady!—  Amp. 
Your brain's yet foul, and will recoil again.  Eld. Pall. 
No more: I'll swallow down my Tongue!  Amp. 
If Sir, your nature be so excellent,  
As your kind Brother hath confirmed to Luce.  
And me; follow, and I'll present you straight  
With certain writings you shall seal to, hoodwinked,  
And purely ignorant of what they are?  
This is the swiftest, and the easiest test,  
That I can make of your bold love; do this,  
Perhaps, I may vouchsafe to marry you.  
The writings are within.  Elder Pall. 
Lead me to trial, come!  Amp. 
But Sir, if I should marry you; it is  
In confidence, I have the better Wit;  
And can subdue you still to quietness,  
Meek sufferings, and patient awe.  Elder Pall. 
You rap me still anew.  Young Pall. 
In Luce, our hopes grow strong, and Giantly! Exeunt.  Enter Thrift, Snore, mistress: Snore, Queasie, Ginet. Ginet. 
To him Mistress Snore; 'tis he has kept  
Your Husband from his Bed so long, to watch  
Him for a Church Robbery!  Mrs.: Snor. 
Ah, thou judas! I thought what thou'dst come to!  
Remember the Warrant thou sentest for me  
Into Duck-lane, 'cause I called thy Maid Trot!  
When I was fain t'invite thy Clerk to a  
Fee Pie, sent me b'a Temple Cook, my sister's Sweetheart!  Quea. 
Nay, and remember who was brought to bed  
Under thy Coach house wall; when thou divid'st  
A wad of straw, and wouldst not join thy halfpenny  
To send for Milk, for the poor chrisom!  Snor. 
Now you may sweeten me with Sugar-loaves  
At New-year-tide, as I have you Sir.—  Enter Thwack, Pert, Meager, Engine. Thw. 
we'll teach you to rob Churches! 'Slight, hereafter  
we of the Pious shall be afraid to go  
To a long Exercise, for fear our Pockets should  
Be picked! Come Sir, you see already how  
The neighbours throng to find you; will you consent?  
'tis but a thousand pounds a piece to these  
Two Gentlemen; and five hundred more t' Engine.  
Your crime is then concealed, and yourself free.  Meag. 
No, he may choose, he'll trust toth' kind hearted Law.  Pert. 
Let him, and to Dame justice too, who though  
Her Ladyship be blind, will grope hard Sir,  
To find your Money Bags.  Engin. 
Sir you are rich; beside, you know what you  
Have got by your Wards death; I fear you will  
Be begged at Court, unless you come off thus.  Thrift. 
There is my Closet Key, do what you please.  Engin. 
Gentlemen, I'll lead you to it, follow me.  Thw. 
D'you use to find such sums as these beneath  
An Oak, after a long March; I think sure,  
The wars are not so plentiful.  Pert. 
we think so too.  Thw. 
y''had better trail a Bodkin, Gentlemen,  
Under the Lady Ample, than a Pike  
Under a German General.  Per. 
we'll in for th'money Sir, and talk anon. Ex. Eng. Per. Meag.  Enter Eld: Palatine, Yo:: Palatine, Ample, Luce. Young Pall. 
Sir Tyrant Thrift, here is your Ward come from  
The dead, t'indite you for a Robbery  
Upon her Ghost.  Thrift. 
Hah! Is she alive too?  Luce. 
Yes, and her Wardship out, before y'have proffered her  
A Husband Sir; so the best benefit  
Of all your Guardianship is lost.  Ampl. 
In seven long years you could not Sir provide  
A man deformed enough, to offer me  
For your own ends.  Thrift. 
Cozened of wealth, of fame! Dog Engine! Ex. Thrift.  Thw. 
we must have you enclosed again: y'are very  
Forward with the Lady.  Elder Pall. 
I will be Sir,  
Until she groan! this Priest stays some what long.  Thw. 
How's this? troth I shall forgive thee then heartily.  Amp. 
I've ta'en him i'th' behalf of health; to chide  
And jeer, for recreation's sake, 'twill keep  
Me Sir, in breath, now I am past growing.  Elder Pall. 
Hark Knight! here's relish for your ears. I chose  
None of your dull Country Madams, that spend  
Their time in studying Receipts, to make  
marchpane, and preserve Plums; that talk  
Of painful childbirths, Servants wages, and  
Their husbands good Complexion, and his Leg!  Thw. 
New wonders yet!  Elder Pall. 
What was that (Mistress) which I sealed to, hoodwinked?  
A simple trial of my confidence and love.  Amp. 
Your Brother has it, 'tis a gift to him  
Of one fair Manor, 'mongst those many that you  
Have in Possession Sir; and in this Bond,  
Y'are witness to three thousand pounds I give to Luce!  Luce. 
Yes Sir, for Pall and I must marry too.  Young Pall. 
I were an Eunuch else, and th'world should know't.  Elder Pall. 
Thou couldst not have betrayed me to a bounty  
I more love. Brother! Give thee joy!— Thw. takes Yo:: Pall. aside.  Thw. 
You are the cause of all these Miracles:  
Therefore I desire you to be my heir;  
By this good day you must: for I've taken order,  
Though I love your Wit, you shall not live by it.  Young Pall. 
My kind thanks Sir, the poor Man's gratitude.  Mrs.: Snor. 
'Give you joy sweet Master Palatine, and  
Your Brother too.  Quea. 
And send you more such wives,  
Every year as many as shall please heaven.  Snor. 
'tis day. I'll not to bed Sir now; my watch  
Shall be drunk, at your worship's wedding.  Young Pall. 
They shall, and there is Gold enough to keep  
Them so, until thy reign be out.—  Enter Pert, Meager, Engine, with Money Bags. Pert. 
Loaden with composition Pall.—  Meag. 
'tis for your sake we groan under these burdens.—  Young Pall. 
The Offal of Sir tyrant's Trunks! Brother,  
Pray know these Gentlemen, they owe you more  
Money than they mean to pay now.  Elder Pal. 
I remember 'em: But no words my Cavaliers,  
And you are safe. Where shall we dine today?  Young Pal. 
At Lucy's Ants; we'll make her costive Beldamship  
Come off; when she beholds a goodly jointure,  
And our fair hopes.  Elder Pall. 
First, to the Church. Lady,  
I'll make your skittish person sure. Some of  
Your pleasant Arts upon me, may become  
A wise Example, and a Moral too;  
Such as their haughty fancy well befits,  
That undertake to live here by their Wits. Exeunt omnes.   
FINIS.  

epilogue.  
THe office of an Epilogue, is now  
To smooth & stroke the wrinkles from each brow;  
To guide severer judgements (if we could  
Be wise enough) until they thought all good,  
Which they perhaps dislike; And sure, this were  
An overboldness, raised from too much Fear.  
You have a Freedom, which we hope you'll use,  
T' advance our youthful Poet, and his Muse  
With a kind Doom; And he'll tread boldly then  
In's best new Comic Socks, this Stage again.