A PLEASANT comedy, entitled HEY FOR HONESTY, DOWN WITH KNAVERY.  
Translated out of Aristophanes his Plutus, By THO: RANDOLPH.  
Augmented and Published by F. I.  

Dives Fabula sum satis superque▪  
At Pauper satis & super Poeta.   
London, Printed in the Year 1651.   

TO THE Truly virtuous and accomplished Gent.  
The Publisher of this COMEDY wisheth Health and happiness everlasting.  
Noble Gent.  
IT was the happiness of my stars, to have known you long ago, as the very Eye of our Garden of England; all which both admire and love you: And it is the height of my ambition, to salute your hands, that love Honesty, with the Comedical advancement of Honesty. I am confident, what Aristophanes and his Translator have penciled in this kind, you love to own, though drawn out in a weak Sciography. But you had rather see it performed in men's lives, then personated on the Stage; rather represented in action, then acted in speculative representations. I crave your courteous Patronage, sufficient Panoply even against Envy itself. I prostrate it to your judicious Test( at vacant hours) to approve of, and of myself too, who am  
Your humble Servant and Admirer, F. I.   

The Preface to the Reader.  
READER,  
THis is a pleasant Comedy, though some may judge it satirical: 'Tis the more like Aristophanes the Father: besides, if it be biting, 'tis a biting Age we live in; Then biting for biting. Again, Tom Randal, the Adopted son of Ben Johnson, being the Translator hereof, followed his father's steps; They both of them loved Sack, and harmless Mirth, and here they show it; and I( that know myself) am not averse from it neither. This I thought good to acquaint thee with. Farewell.  
Thine, F. I.   

To his worthy Friend, F. I. On the setting forth of this excellent COMEDY.  

TO join things so divided in this Age,  
Shows thy rare masterpiece of Wit right sage.  
Out of th' Athenian-Sea to draw it forth,  
Commends not only learned skill, but worth.  
I mean both Honesty and Wealth: so rare  
Do these two Planets in Conjunction share  
Of one man's breast: Their divers Aspects shine  
Malign( like Saturn) in Sextile or Trine,  
To each ingenuous soul. I know, our Nation  
Would fain obscure this luminous Constellation:  
But thou hast rescued it and set it free,  
In the bright Orb of ingenuity.  
Go on brave soul! let each heroic spirit  
Know 'tis allied to Riches as by merit.  
Vindicate them: while Muck-worm-minded men  
Feel the sharp dint of thy incensed Pen.  
Doom them to dunghills; and thy potent scorn  
Not lend them hose to put on head or horn!   
G. P.   

The Argument or Subject of the Comedy.  
Chremylus' an honest decayed Gentleman, willing to become rich, repaireth to the Oracle of Apollo to inquire how he might compass his design: The Oracle enjoineth him to follow that man whom he first met with, and never part from his company. The man he met is the old blind God of Wealth disguised. After this, Chremylus calleth his poor( but honest) Neighbours to partake of his happiness. The honest party rejoice at the news; Rascals only and vicious persons are discontented. Plutus is led to the Temple of Esculapius, by whose art and help he recovereth his eyesight. At this Knaves are even mad, they m●…rmure and complain exceedingly. Likewise the goddess Poverty, that aforetime had great power in the Land, complaineth that her sceptre is almost broken to pieces: thereupon she raiseth wars, but is rou●…ed; she also is vanquished in disputation of the necessity of Poverty. Knaves again salute Weeping-cross, as well as pennyless-bench. Nay, the Pope himself is even starved. Lastly, to vex them more, the God of Wealth is introduced married to Honesty.   

The actor's Names.  
Scene, London.  

Plutus, the God wealth.  
Chremylus, an honest decayed Gentleman.  
Carion his servant.  
Blepsidemus, Friend to Chremylus.  


Four Country Swains.  
Scrape-all.  
Stiff.  
Clodpole.  
Lackland.    
Dull-pate, son to Scrape-all.  
Chremyla Wise to Chremylus.  
Honesty, Daughter to a Scrivener.  
Clip-latin, a poor Curate.  
Dicaeus, a rich Parson.  
Penia-pennilesse, Goddess of Poverty:  


Soldiers.  
Caradock.  
Brun.  
Higgen.  
Termook.    
Mercurius, God of Theft.  
goggle, an Amsterdam-man.  
Never-good, a Sequest●…ator.  
Jupiter's Vicar, the Pope.  
Boy, servant to goggle.  
Neanias, a young Gallant.  
Anus, an Old woman.  
Aristophanes, the Poet.  
Translator, T. R.  
A crew of Tinkers, &c.  
Ghost of Cleon.    

hay for Honesty, down with Knavery.  

Act. 1.  

Scaen. 1.  Enter Plutus stumbling on the Stage, after him Chremylus and Carion▪ Carion. 
OBonny Jove, and the rest of the b●…on gods that dwell in the tippling-house of Olympus! There be metals & hard things in the world, but nothing so hard as to be bound prentice in Bedlam, and have a Fool to ones Master: my very Livery is faced with his worship's foolery. Our condition is miserable; for if our Masters but dine at the Ordinary of mischief, the poor servingman is sure to be fed with the scraps of misfortune: We must share of our Master's misery, we are but Tenants, they will not let us be Freeholders to the petty Lordships of our own corpusculous Fortune; damnable Fortune! how fatally hast thou sold the tenure of us, to him that will pay us our wages! 'Tis very true that I tell you: And now see the perverse effects of all. O how I could cuff Apollo! I have a quarrel to Apollo, that wryleged, riddling, fiddling god, that snorts out Oracles from his guilded brundlet. They say, this same Gaffer Phoebus is a good mountebank, and an excellent musician; but a deuse on him, it does not seem so, he has sent my Master home so sick of Melancholy, that I da●…e swear, this scurvy Tom Piper of D●…lphos did not play him so much as one fit of mirth, not a lig or sellingers-round. And now see how he follows a blind Puppy i' th' tail, contrary to Law or Reason: For we that have our eyes should lead, not follow the blind. The very Dog in the Chronicles, that had his eyes, stood upon his royal Prerogative, of going before the blind Beggar of Bednal-green. Nor can he be content to do it himself, but he must make me too guilty of the same ignorance. If I but ask him a question, he hath not so much manners as my Granam's Sow; I cannot get him to grunt me an answer: yet I cannot choose but speak, though my hedge of Teeth were a quickset, my tongue would through. You sir, that say you are my Master, if you do not tell me why we follow this blundring guide, be sure, I will never leave vexing and tormenting you: you shall tell me, that you shall.  Chr. 
O the Age we live in! Sirrah, quintessence of impudence! To what a fine pass are you arrived?  Car. 
Nay 'tis even so Sir: Your sword and buckler man must take the wit upon him for once.  Chr. 
But if you do not learn your distance b●…er; look, is not here a Crabtree-Cudgel▪ beware of weeping-cross.  Car. 
Master, I am privileged: Do you see my Feather? so long as I wear this, 'tis Shrove-tuesday with us prentices, perpetual Shrove-tuesday.  Chr. 
But if I take off your Feather, than we shall have you presently crest-fa●…'n, and then my Crabtree Tutor here may read a Lecture of ethics to your saucy Shoulders.  Car. 
Why, and if it do sir; you shall find that I have as valiant Shoulders as another man. Come exercise your cudgel: You Masters are like Roman Magistrates, you have Rods of authority; yet try, see whether you or I will be first weary. Come you Trifle, all the Cudgels in Christendom, Kent, or New-England, shall never make me quiet, till you show me who this is we follow. Why, sweethoney, sugar-cinnamon, delicate Master, if I did not wish you well, do you think I would be so inquisitive? In dud lafoy you must tell me, and I shall be satisfied.  Chr. 
Well, I have not the power to conceal thee any longer; for of all my servants, thou art so trusty, true-hearted, faithful and honest, that I dare swear there is not an arranter thief amongst 'um.  Car. 
Now heaven bless your Worship. I have always had your Worships commendations, pray Jove I may deserve it! Proceed good Sir.  Chr. 
Well, thus it is: In the days of my folly, I was a just, precise, and honest man.  Car. 
'Twas in the days of your folly you were a Precisian, I myself was almost half a one once, but I am converted.  Chr. 
Well, being honest, I was by natural consequence very poor.  Car. 
Who knew not that? Though I know not what your honesty was; yet I am sure there is never a gut in my belly but may swear for your poverty. Nay, and you had no more wit then to be honest in this wise age, 'twere pity but you should live and die a beggar.  Chr. 
But others, such as your demure Cheaters,  Car. 
That have the true goggle of Amsterdam;  Chr. 
With some corrupted Law-gowns, Ployde●…s Pupils.  Car. 
That can plead on both sides for Fees;  Chr. 
With Round-headed Citizens, and Cuckolds,  Car. 
I sir, and Townsmen.  Chr. 
These, I say, grew rich the while.  Car. 
Damnable rich. Faith, master, such miracles have not ceased in these days: I have known many in these times have grown rich out of a poor estate, the devil knows how not I.  Chr. 
Therefore I repaired to Delphos to ask counsel of Apollo, because I saw myself almost arrived at Gravesend, to know if I should bring up my son suitable to the thriving trades of this age we live in, viz. to be a Sequestrator, or Pettifogger, or Informer, or Flatterer, or belonging to Knights o'th' Post, or a committee-mans'. Clark, or some such excellent 〈◊〉, clothing himself from top to toe in knavery, without a welt or guard of goodness about him. For I see, as the times go now, such thriving education will be the richest portion I can leave him▪  Car. 
I Sir, leave but your son, the legacy of Dishonesty, and i will warrant him he shall out-thrive all Westminster-hall, and all—  

To your demand what did Don Phoebus mutter?  
What answer through his Laurel-garland stutter?   Chr. 
You shall hear. He bid me in plain terms, whomsoever I first met withal, him I should follow, and never leave his company till he came home.  Car. 
And was this piece of darkness the first you met with? Now in my conscience he was begot at midnight, goodman Midnight, and retains the quality of the season. None to meet but blindman-buff, that winks at all faults!  Chr. 
This is the very man.  Car. 
Troth, and he may tell you your fortune, gypsy-like, and all out of your pockets too; He may show you your destiny: He looks like one of the blind whelps of my old Lady Chance. Ha, ha, ha! Master, though you be born to lands, I see a poor servingman may have as large inheritance of wit as a Justice of Peace. Why, an't please your Ignorance, any man of brains might easily understand the God's meaning: why, he bids you bring up your son to claim the grand Charter of the City, viz. to be as arrant a Knave as his Countrymen. For truly,  

A blind man may see, though he never see more,  
That the way to be honest, is the way to be poor.   Chr. 
The Oracle doth not tend that way; there is some greater mystery in it, if this old Cupid would but tell us who he is. Come let's follow him close, perchance we may find out some other meaning.  Car. 

On other meaning perchance we may pitch.  
This is the way to be weary, though not to be rich.   music. Exeunt ambo.  

Act. 1. Scaen. 2.  Enter Chremylus, Carion. Car. 
Master, we have run a terrible long wild-goose chase after this blind Beetle: for my part I sweat every inch of me, one drop fetches another. As for my shoes, you must needs give me a new pair. Their ungodly souls are even ready to depart, they are giving up the ghost: And yet we walk like the emblem of silence; we have not put our blind Gentleman-Usher to any interrogatories. You sir, Homer the second! first I command you in fair terms tell us who you are: if commands will not serve the turn, my cudgel shall entreat you.  Chr. 
You were best tell us quickly too.  Plu. 
I tell you, the Devil take you.  Car. 
Do you hear what he says, master? The good old Gentleman bids your Worship good morrow.  Chr. 
He speaks to thee that asked him so clownishly. Sir, if you like the behaviour of a civil Gentleman, do me in courtesy the favour as to tell me who you are.  Plu. 
Why, all the Devils in hell, and as many more confound thee too.  Car. 
Nay, nay, take him to you, master: keep your Apollo's Oracle to yourself; I have no share in it.  Chr. 
Now if thou dost not tell me, by Ceres I will use thee like a Villain as thou art.  Plu. 
Good Gentlemen, let me be beholding to you for one infinite favour.  Chr. 
What's that?  Plu. 
Why, to let me be rid of your company.  Car. 
Master, be ruled by a wiser man than yourself, for once, and follow my counsel: Let us take this same old Appius, that has lost the use of his natural spectacles, and carry him to the top of the castle-hill, and there leave him to tumble down and break his neck ere he come to the bottom.  Chr. 
Let it be quickly then.  Car. 
ay, and then we'll leave him to be hanged the next Assizes, for being a cessory to his own death.  Plu. 
Nay, good merciful Gentlemen!  Car. 
Will you tell us then, you owl?  Chr. 
You Bird of the Night, will you tell us?  Plu. 
I will never tell you: for if you but once know who I am, ten thousand to one but you will do me some mischief, you will never let me go.  Chr. 
By heaven we will, if you please.  Plu. 
List then and give ear: for, as far as I can see, being blind, I am constrained to tell what I thought to have concealed. I am Plutus the rich God of wealth: my father was Pinch-back truepenny, the rich Usurer of Islington; my mother, Mrs. Silverside, an alderman's widow: I was born in Golden-Lane, christened at the Mint in the Tower; Banks the Conjurer, and old Hobson the Carrier were my godfathers.  Car. 
As sure as can be, this Plutus God of wealth is a pure Welshman, born with his pedigree in his mouth, he speaks it so naturally. I'll lay my life he was beg●…t and bred in the silvermine that Middleton found in Wales.  Chr. 
Thou hadst been a very Rascal, if thou hadst not told us thy name had been Plutus the God of wealth.  Car. 
God of wealth! art thou he? O let me kiss thy silver-Jolls!  Chr. 
Thou art welcome to me too. But art thou Plutus God of wealth, and so miserably arrayed! O Phoebus, Apollo, O gods and devils, and Jupiter to boot! Art thou Plutus the rich son and heir to Pinch-back truepenny!  Plu. 
I am he myself.  Car. 
But art thou sure that thou thyself art thyself? art thou he?  Plu. 
I am the selfsame Plutus Rich, the selfsame son and heir to the selfsame Pinch-back truepenny: marry till my eyes are open, I shall never be heir apparent.  Chr. 
Ay, but how camest thou so miserable nasty?  Plu. 
Forth from Patrochus den, from Hell at Westminster; conversing with some Black ones there, whose faces since their baptism hath not been washed.  Chr. 
And why goest thou so lamentably poor?  Plu. 
Jupiter envying the good of miserable mortals, put me poor soul into these dismal dumps.  Chr. 
Upon what occasion, pray thee.  Plu. 

J'll tell you,  
In the minority of my youthful days  
I took a humour, an ingenious humour,  
To flee the company of Rogues and Raseals,  
And unto honest men betake myself.  
Jupiter spying this( Mere out of envy)  
Put out my eyesight, that i might not know  
Knaves from the honest, but to them might go.   Chr. 

Was this from Jove? why none but honest men,  
Honour his deity.   Plu. 

Why what of that? this heathen god accepts  
As well the Pilgrim-salve of wicked men,  
As the religious incense of the honest.  
Thus does the lecherous god, that hath already  
Cuckoldized half the world, and placed his bastards  
By mortals fires, envy virtuous minds.   Chr. 

To leave off versifying, if thou hadst thy eyesight,  
Wouldst thou be true to fly from vicious persons?   Plut. 
I▪ I protest I would.  Chr. 

And wholly employ thy eyes to pious uses.  
To go to''th' company of honest and ingenuous souls.   Plut. 
Only to them; for I have not seen so much as one of them this many a day.  Car. 
Why, what if you have not, you blind Puppy-dog? What a wonder's that? Why, I that have as good Eyes as any man i'th' company, can hardly find many: They have more wit now a days than go abroad openly. Virtue by that means would become too cheap and common. I remember, i saw one once, but he died young for grief, that he had not wit enough to be a Knave; every one laughed at him for being out of Fashion. Had he lived till now, i would h'showed him at Fleet-bridge for a Monster. I should have beggared the beginning' o'th' World; The strange Birds from America, and the Poppets too. I would have blown a Trumpet Tarantara, If any man or woman in Town or City be affected with strange miracles, let them repair bither. Here within this place is to be seen a strange Monster; A man that hath both his Ears, and but one Tongue; that cannot carry two Faces under one hood; that has but one couple of Hands, and on each Hand five honest Fingers. And what is more strange, he has but one Heart; who dares, as if he were none of Adam's Posterity, be honest at this time' o'th' year; and will give every man his due in spite of his teeth.  
Is not this as rare as a Blazing Star to look on?  Plut. 
Well, now you have heard all; pray give me leave to be gone.  Chre. 
Not so by Jove; for now we have a greater desire to stay you then ever.  Plut. 
I told you so, I thought you would be troublesome.  Chr. 
Nay, I beseech you leave us not now▪ for though you should take Diogenes his lantern and Candle and search from Noon to Night, you could not find an honester man from the tropic of Cancer to Capricorn.  Car. 
Sir, I will swear and be deposed for my Master▪ he is as arrant a Cancer as any Capricorn in Christendom.  Plut. 
I know they all promise fair, but when they have once got me, they lay aside their threadbare honesty; as if being grown rich, it were a disparagement to be virtuous any longer.  Car. 
Yet all men are not knaves.  Plut. 
Yes most, if not all, by Jove.  Car. 
Pray Sir, though you put my Master in, let me me be excepted. Body of me, call me knave in a crowd! If I be not revenged, and that soundly— You were best take heed of your general Rules. Could not you have said( you blind Bussard) for aught I can see you may be one among the rest; but to speak it so peremptorily?  Chr. 
Nay, if you but knew what you should gain by staying! Mark me, I can cure thee of thy blindness: I can do as great miracles as Enston waters.  Plut. 
Truly, as blind as I am, I can see when I am well. Have my eyesight restored? I hope, I shall never live to see that day.  Chr. 
What says the man?  Car. 
He has a natural desire to be wretched, To play at blindman-buff all his life time. Good Mole, what dost thou above ground?  Plut. 
No, no, if Jupiter did but know of this project, he would powder me into a pretty pickle.  Chr. 
Hear me man, he cannot souse thee worse than he has already, to make thee run stumbling o'er the world: I warrant, thy shins have cursed him a thousand times.  Plut. 
I know not that, but methinks my buttocks begin to quake with very thought of him.  Chr. 
I think so; but what the Devil makes thee so timorous? I know if thou shouldest but recover thy eyesight, thou wouldst not value Jupiter's command at three half pence, but break wind in his face to counter-thunder him.  Plut. 
Nay, do not tell me so good wickedness.  Chr. 
Have but patience, and I will plainly demonstrate that thy Command is greater than any Nubicog Jupiter's.  Plu. 
Whose? mine? Am I such a man, so powerful?  Chr. 
I tho, if thou hadst but wit and eyes enough to see it; for first, I ask you what does Jupiter reign by?  Plut. 
Why, by that which he rained into Danae's lap, a shower of silver.  Chr. 
And who lent him that silver?  Car. 
Why, who but Plutus; and yet the beggarly Jove pays him no Use nor Principal: well Jupiter, we shall have Plutus lodge you in Ludgate shortly, to take up your Shop, and make your thunderbolts there, and cry lamentably, For the Lord's sake, Bread, Bread for the poor Prisoners; unless you can mortgage the golden or silver Age to give better security to your creditor.  Chr. 
Ask, why do men sacrifice to Jove, if not for Silver?  Car. 
By heaven, for Silver. No penny, no Pate●…-noster, quoth the Pope. Does goodman Jupiter think we'll pray, to wear out our Stockings at knees for nothing?  

No, of all prayers, this is the result,  
Jove make me rich, or pray quicunque vult.   Chr. 
Is not Plutus than the Author of grand sacrifices? where would the Directory lie, if it were not for the new Act of the priest's maintenance? Nay, if we were to sacrifice a Bull or Ram, do you think the Butcher would give it to the god for nothing? No, no, if Plutus should not purchase devotion with his coin, the Olympian kitchen would smell of nothing but Lent and fasting-days all the year after.  Plut. 
Why, I pray, may I put Jupiter out of Commons when I please?  Chr. 
May you? I marry may you. Dost not thou maintain him? He l●…ves at thy charges. Jupiter had not best anger thee, lest thou take an opinion and starve him.  Plut. 
Say you so? Is it by my courtesy they sacrifice to Jove?  Chr. 
Yes, altogether; for whom is he honoured by?  Plut. 
By reverend Priests.  Chr. 
And dost thou think the Levitical men would not disband, if there were want of pay or Tithes? It is most certain, money is the Catholic Empress of the world, her commands are obeyed from Spain to the Indies.  Car. 
'Tis true Master, had I been rich( But I curse my Stars, I was born under the threepenny Planet, never to be worth a groat) I should have scorned the degree of Sword and Buckler; but now for a little silver and a threadbare Livery, I have sold the Fee-simple of myself and my liberty, to any worshipful piece of folly that will undertake me.  Chr. 
I have heard your Gentilizians, your dainty Curtezana's, in plain English, your arrant whores of Venice, such as are ready stewed for any man's appetite: if a poor man desire to sin a little, they presently sit crosslegged; but if a rich man tempt them, at the sound of his Silver they cannot hold their water. Why, the whores of Picked-hatch, Turnbull, or the unmerciful Bawds of Bloomsbury, under the degree of Plutus, will not let a man be acquainted with the sins of the Suburbs. The Pox is not so cheap as to be given gratis: The unconscionable Queans have not so much charity left as to let you damn yourselves for nothing.  Car. 
'Tis very true that my Master tells you: For Pluta●…ch reports in the life and death of Bess Bron●…bton, that she never unbuttoned to any of the guard for nothing.  Chr. 
But you may think this is spoken only of bad men, such as have prostituted their souls to the world; As for good Round— they desire not money, no good souls not they.  Car. 
What then i pray?  Chr. 
Why, this wishes for a good Trooping horse; that, for a fleet pack of Hounds.  Car. 
I, when they are ashamed to ask money in plain terms, they veil their avarice under some such mask or other: but he that wishes for a Horse, makes silver the intent of his journey; and they that beg for Hounds, 'tis money they hunt for.  Chr. 
All Arts and Crafes amongst men were by thee invented. Ay, and the seven Sciences( but for thee) they could never have been so liberal.  Plut. 
O horse that I was, never to know my own strength till now!  Chr. 
'Tis this that makes great Philip of Spain so proud.  Car. 
Without thee( Plutus) the Lawyer would not go to London on any Terms.  Chr. 
All the Generals, Hopton and Montross, are by thee maintained: 'Troth, all the Troopers or footmen without thee would never be contented with freequarter only, there must come Taxes, Contributions and Excise to boot.  

Did not Will Summer break his wind for thee?  
And Shakespeare therefore writ his Comedy?  
All things acknowledge thy vast power divine,  
( Great God of Money) whose most powerful shine  
Gives motion, life; Day rises from thy sight.  
Thy setting, though at noon, makes night.  
Sole Catholic cause of what we feel or see,  
All in this All are but th' effects of thee.   Plut. 
O heavens! can I do all these things you talk of? Ill tied this wretched blindness of mine, that would never let me see what Command or Power I had: All the world for a pair of eyes and a looking-glass! Sure now the Delphian gate and i have good wits: for we jumped together in this opinion, that it is an excellent thing for a man to know himself: i shall love a Nosce teipsum as long as i live for this trick. Can i do all these things?  Chr. 
All these? I by heaven canst thou, and millions more than these. Why there was never any man weary of thy company( O god of wealth) Thou art a welcome guest where e'er thou comest. There is plenty of all things: Plenty of Love.  Car. 
And pienty of white-bread and Butter.  Chr. 
Plenty of Honour.  Car. 
And plenty of cheesecakes.  Chr. 
Plenty of Friends.  Car. 
And plenty of Bag-puddings.  Chr. 
Plenty of Servants.  Car. 
And plenty of Furmenty.  Chr. 
Plenty of Health.  Car. 
And plenty of Custards.  Chr. 
Plenty of Command.  Car. 
And plenty of pease-porridge.  Chr. 
Never any man has enough of thee. If he can change a Groat, yet he despairs of a Bed till he can get a Tester. Then he procures a full Jury of pence to be empanelled for the finding out of a Shilling. That done, the ambitious Niggard will fain usurp a Crown, which must be made a Noble one: And that is never safe, till it have a good Angel to guard it. All this obtained, he cannot without a Mark be reckoned a man of notice: Nor has he a patch of a Gentleman, till he be worth a piece.  Car. 
The good old Gentleman thinks he has jested all thiswhile handsome grave graypated quiblets. Good heaven, what pretty things these wits are, when they are out of date!  Chr. 
When the Purse is full, the Pouch gapes; and when the Pouch hath his bellyful, the great Chest yawns-wide enough to swallow 〈◊〉 ●…dies, and Goldsmiths-Hall, and the Devil to boot; and yet when all is done, they think themselves as poor as I●…us, if their estates do not outvalue Doomsdaybook.  Plut. 
You say true, Sir: yet methinks I am afraid of one thing.  Chr. 
What is that?  Plut. 
That I shall never attain to that ●…utopia you speak of, 'tis a country so hard to conquor; Castles in the air are very impregnable.  Chr. 
Sir, upon my word, let not that trouble you: Do your endeavour, and i'll warrant you shall see as perfectly as any Lynceus in Christendom.  Plu. 
Then Lynceus! what was he?  Chr. 
One that could see the very motes in the sun, and the least things in the world.  Plu. 
I can see the least in the world already, I thank you for nothing: I can see less than any Lynceus living. But how canst thou, poor mortal worm, take off the sequestration of my eyesight, and restore me to perfect seeing again?  Chr. 

Do not doubt it; For thy delinquent Eyes  
Shall be admitted to compound, and see most perfectly.  
Be of good hope: the Delphian god hath sworn,  
And therewithal brandished his Pythian laurel,  
That Plutus should out-look the stars to blindness.▪   Plut. 
Ha, ha, ha! How does he know so much? I never was acquainted with that same Apollo in my life. I remember I have been foxed at his Oracle at Temple-bar. I am afraid this Apollo is one of your fellow-Juglers.  Chr. 
Cannot a man persuade you? have not I said it?  Plut. 
Well then, do you look to it.  Car. 
So we had need, for you cannot yourself.  Chr. 
Take you no care, I will do it though I die to morrow before breakfast.  Car. 
Marry and that were a miserable thing to go to the grave upon a fasting stomach. Pray master, when you take in hand the cure of Plutus his eyes, let poor Ca●…yon have a finger in it.  Chr. 
A finger in it! That were the way to put out his eyes.  Car. 
'Tis strange, master, you should have no more understanding: my meaning was, you would accept of my help,( good Mr. Chremylus.)  Chr. 
Well sirrah, we will; and some other fellow-partners too, some of our plundered neighbours that are enjoined for penance to fast four days a week, for having surfeited on too much honesty.  Plu. 
Marry heaven forbid, I shall be ill holp up with such miserable helpers as they: the hungry Rascals will go near to devour me quick like Irish cannibals. No, let me be blind still, that my eyes may never be conscious to the plundering of my flesh & bones in pieces. 'Twere a miserable spectacle for them to begin with.  Chr. 
I warrant, you need not fear that: if they once grow rich, they'll rather feed on Rost-beef and marrowbone pies, like Committee men, then cozen the worms of so lean a carcase. Sirrah Carion, where be your couple of Footmen?  Car. 
Here master, what should I do?  Chr. 
Run and call my honest poor neighbours, you shall find the miserable drudges tugging at the plough-tail for their Landlords. No, now I think on't, the Excise-men came to day and fetched them away for contribution. Go to them, you know the way to the Office near Cuckolds-Pound, London. Tell them in their ears, that we have Plutus at home, and will share him amongst us: we'll divide him into several messes, and each man take his part by seniority. But stay, do you hear: beware of Knaves, and of veal.  Car. 
Veal it seems is not so good. But what shall I do with this Leg of Mutton here? I dare not venture the safety of it amongst 'em; the villains carry dangerous teeth about 'um.  Chr. 
we'll take care for that: meet me at home two hours hence.  Exit Chr. Car. 
O what a plot are we going about! I could laugh for joy.  

Now may I forsake my dump,  
And bestir my hob-nailed stump,  
Skip about and ●…risk and jump:  
Honest men are turned up trump,  
I shall find them in a lump,  
But▪ every knave must have a Thump.   
O what a plot is this, to blow up all the knaves in a kingdom together, nay in all the world, put in Turks, Jews, Pagans and infidels! Why, Catesby and Percy were punies. Garnet and Digby and Faux, if they had gone about such an honest gunpowder treason as this, they had never had their heads upon poles a Daw-catching over the Parliament-House. Well, they were hanged for knaves and fools; but we shall thrive, and be wise and worshipful, and honest too, for Carion's a man in the plot.  

This is a stratagem was never such,  
That honest men alone now should be rich.  
That honest men should thrive by right, not wrong.  
London, take heed; for thou'lt be poor ●…re long.   Exit Carion.  

Act. 1. Scaen. 3.  Enter Scrape-all a Farmer, and Dull-pate his son. Scrap. 

I live at Islington, and i have heard  
Plutus is come to Westminster: Sure, sure,  
He'd take it ill if i forbear to visit him,  
He knows i am his kinsman:  
For i was kin to Pinch-back truepenny  
His Father, who did live at Islington,  
An Usurer almost next door to me.  
Most opportunely here he comes, i see.  
God save you sir! your poor kinsman salutes you.   Plut. 
Who's this? my eyesight fails me; what's your name?  Scrap. 
Scrape-all your kinsman, lives at Islington  Plut. 

O i remember; are you honest now?  
I have a humour to love honest men.   Scrap. 

The Country thinks so, J'm converted lately:  
Dull-pate my son is also here come with me:   Plut. 
Of what profession is he?  Scrap. 
A Parson verily.  Plut. 
What would he have?  Scrap. 

A Benefice, two or three,  
An't like your worship.  
He's a true Scrape-all, of the Scrapealls' blood;  
True Dull-pate Scrape-all, He hath past the Synod.   Plut. 

O, has he so! I thought to have sent him thither.  
I have few Livings left now to bestow.  
My golden Prebends which i had at Paul's,  
You know are sunk i'th' dust: For other places  
The best the Synod has 'um. Yet your son  
Dulpate, i know he cannot want preferment,  
He looks so learnedly, and goes in black too.  
He may change habits, 'tis allowed of now  
As the world goes. Is he not a Tradesman?  
He'd thrive the better, if he can snuffle handsomely.  
Was he ever trained up at the Universities?   Scrap. 
Yes out of both; that is, never of either.  Plut. 

However he will be rich. Let him leap over  
The Steeple-houses, and teach in private;  
His vails will be the fatter: tithes and Cures  
He must preach down as Antichristian,  
And take as much as both. He has an excellent name,  
A thriving name! I think you said 'twas Dulpate.   Scrap. 
Yes Sir. Now thank your Patron, and be gone.  Dulp. 
Thankatus & Godamericatus vester dignitas.  Exit Dulp. Scrap. 
He gives your Worship thanks and god-a-mercy.  Plut. 

I have no skill in physiognomy:  
But sure thou wilt be rich, Dulpate, & wealthy.   Scrap. 

Uncle, we thank you: will it please you know  
The entertainment of ou●… poor cottage?   Plut. 

No, it is against the complexion of my humour  
To visit any man's house: I never got  
Any commodity by it in my life.  
For if I chance to light into the clutches  
Of some vile Usure●…, he buries me  
Quick under ground, or keeps me prisoner closely  
In his old Chests, where without sheets I lie,  
But his Indentur●…s keep me company.  
And if i fall into the prodigal hands  
Of some mad roaring Tytire tu, he spends me  
Upon his lecherous cockatrice; or playing  
Throws me away at passage: So am i turned  
Stark naked out of doors, with not so much  
As a poor Purse to make a nightcap of.   Scrap. 

It seems you never met with moderate men.  
But this is my disposition: when occasion  
Serveth, no man more liberal: when opportunity  
Invites, no man more thirsty.  
Come, let's go in. O how my wife shall joy  
At sight of thee, asmuch as for a French Hood  
Or taffeta Kirtle! Thou art my best beloved.   Plut. 
I easily believe it.  Scrap. 

Who would not tell thee  
The truth of things, i wish that he were lousy  
( Sweet rogue) at Beggers-bush, or else confined  
To the perpetual regiment of Bridewell.  
Come my dear uncle, come! O how i love  
The silver-hairs of thy most delicate chin!  
Though i be rich by wickedness and sin.   Exeunt ambo.  
Finis Actus primi.   

Act. 2.  

Scaen. 1.  Enter Carion, Clodpole, Lackland and stiff, 3 rustics. Car. 
Come along you old Hobnails. J'll have your horses shod with gold of Ophir or Peru▪ Ha, you old Muck-worms! J'll make your Hog-trough paunches so fat, that the leanest of you all shall outweigh the Archbishop of Spalleto. What an Esopical roaring Lion am i, to lead this army of Asses into the field! Come, my masters, old friends, you that have eat many a bushel of salt, i would say garlic in his company▪ Make haste you plough-lacquys, Boots his kinsmen. You neighbour Lackland, set the best foot forward. And you goodman Clodpole, old snail with a slimy nose, if you make not haste, they will have done scrambling ere we come.  Clod. 
Now by the rood of my Granam's soul, J'ch go as vast as my legs will bear me. What would you have of an old man, that's grown crazy?  Car. 
Crazy!  Clod. 
I, crazy. Do you think a man that has one voot in the grave can trudge as vast as zuch a young knave as thou? When i was a stripling of thy age, i could have tricked it ivaith, Mr. Ficar knows, with the best of the Parish.  Lackl. 
Neighbour, neighbour, J'll tell you what I do devise you now, this is my pinion.  Car. 
Your pinion, you goose? and what is your pinion?  Lackl. 
Marry this is my pinion now: This saucy knave may do it to uflout us. 'Tis best ●…o command of him what is his Master's contention in ●…ending vor us now lafoy.  Car. 
Why have not I told you? My master zends for you to change this nasty condition of yours into some delicate happiness. You shall be rich, you Rogues, all of you Justices of peace's, Lords, Emperors, or what is more, High-Constables.  Clodp. 
Very well said. But I will be none of his peace's nor Lords; let me be a High-Constable. I will have a new v●…aile as zoon as I come to my honours, and thou shalt be next to exzeed me in my house-of-Office.  Lackl. 
Ay, but neighbours, how shall this be defected? Let him dissolve us of that now, it seems not possetible, so it does not.  Car. 
Why you villiagoes, my master has brought home an old lame, rotten, mangy, toothless, sapless, baldpate, rusty musty crusty fusty dusty old Dotard, just such another as my neighbour stiff or Lackland, or you Clodpole with a slimy nose, with a great bunch-back.  Lackl. 
A bunch-back! Nay then thou art a meszenger of gold. Ha neighbours, that was not a bunch-back, I warrant you la, they were huge bags of gold. That's another pinion of mine, neighbours, what do you jecture in that?  Car. 
You jecture like an ass: That bunch at his back was but a natural budget of old mischiefs.  Lackl. 
Do not think to play the Jackanapes with me for nothing. Have I not here a good cudgel? if thou do, thou shalt be clapper-de-clawed.  Car. 
I wonder what you take me for: what dishonesty did you ever know by me?  Clodp. 
Dishonesty, zay you! None, not we. 'Tis a very honest monkey: Yet I have zeen him, neighbours, zit in Bridewell, when the loving vetters have been close friends to his legs.  Car. 
Very true; at the same time you were one of the Justices of hell, Radamanthus had newly resigned his office to you.  Clodp. 
Now the murrain founder thee, thou perilous wag, thus to abuse thy betters! Sirrah, look you deveal unto us why your master hath vited ●…s from our natural poccupations.  Car. 
Prick up your ears then, and I will tell you. My master hath brought home Plutus to enrich you all. Thou shalt be mayor of the City; canst not thou sleep on the Bench? Thou shalt be bailie; hast not thou wit enough to tell clocks? And all the rest of your frozen-bearded Neighbours, understanding Aldermen.  Lackl. 
Nay so they be Aldermen, 'tis no matter vor Understanding: 'tis a beggarly quality vit for none but poor scholars and Losophers. But has thy master got Plutus, and shall we all be rich in good zooth, carrion?  Car. 
I in zooth neighbour Lackland, as rich as Midas, if you had but ass' ears.  Lackl. 
Nay, vor if that be all, I shall do well enough I warrant you, mine are of a pretty length already: it does me good at the heart neighbours, so it does.  Stiff. 
Vaith would Mr. Olip-latine our Ficar were here too. He's an honest man, he reads commonprayer▪ we can vollow him and understand him; He will not meddle with Diricks-stories nor Extrumperies. He has but poor twanty Nobles a year, think of it Neighbours.  Clodp. 
Vaith and thou sayest right neighbour stiff, and he gives us good destructions once a month, as good as a Nomine.  Lackl. 
Ay, and I like him: He's none of the Hum-drums, he'll clap it up quickly, especially if there be a match at the Alehouse,  Clodp. 
Mass, and he'll drink Sack and Claret as fast as any Synod man.  Stiff. 
Ay, neighbours, and he's none of them that be proud; he will not scorn to drink with his poor neighbours too: if Plutus would give him twice twanty Nobles, I would not think it too much.  Lackl. 
I warrant, our proprietor would hang himself vo●…e he would allow it.  Clodp. 
'tis no matter, we'll tition Plutus ourselves vor him.  Stiff. 
Nay neighbours, and let's tell him he'll cursten and bury after the old way. I warrant, when Mr. Clip-latin's gone, we shall never have such a man again to fit the parish. Every one loves him, but Never-good the Sequestrator, that—  Lackl. 
When Plutus comes, we'll think of him. Vaith neighbours, shall we be rich? What will my neighbour Rem-all do? He'll get him a satin-doublet, and scorn his proud Landlord: And Steal-all the Tailor, and noise the Ballad-singer will ride about in Coaches, and all the rest of 'em too.  
Vaith, shall we have Plutus! shall we be rich! I shall even throw away my leatherslops & my pitchforks. O it joyces my heart! Neighbours, it is as good news as a pot of ale and a tossed in a urosty morning.  Stiff. 
I could give a penny for a maypole to dance the morris vor arrant joy. Shall we be rich ivaith!  Car. 

Now will I with the Cyclops sing,  
Threttanelo, Threttanelo.  
Which Polyphemus erst did ring,  
To the tune of Fortune my foe.   Chor. 

Threttanelo, Threttanelo:  
And sing we all merrily, Threttanelo, Threttanelo.   Car. 
Bleat you like Ewes the while.  Chor. 
Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.  Car. 
Like frisking Kids full merrily go, Threttanelo, Threttanelo.  Cho. 
And sing we all—  Car. 
Dance out your coats like lecherous goats, Threttanelo, Threttanelo!  Cho. 
And sing we all—  Car. 

Let us this Cyclops seek:  
To the place where he sleeps let us go, Threttanelo.   Car. 

Put out as he lies  
With a cowl-staff his eyes, Threttanelo.   Cho. 

And sing we all merrily,  
And sing we all—   Car. 

But now you shall see  
I Circe will be,  
And turn you to hogs ere I go, Threttanelo.  
Go grunt you all now  
Like your mother the Sow, Threttanelo.   Cho. 

And sing we all—  
And sing we all—   Car. 
But come you Pig-hogs, let us leave jesting. I restore you to your old Metamorphosis, as you may see in the first leaf of Virgil's bucolics. I will go the next way to the cupboard, and fill my guts like an Emperor. And then if you have any thing to maund me on a full stomach, you may ply me in what you please.  music. Exeunt omnes.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 2.  Enter Chremylus and stiff, Clodpole, Lackland. Chre. 
Honest neighbours, welcome: I will not bid you good morrow now. That was my salutation in the days of poverty: that stinking compliment never fitted my mouth, but when my breath smelled of onions and garlic. Gramercy old blades, for coming. Let me hug you. Oh what a sweet armful of friends is here! If you be but valiant now, and defend Plutus, the least of you all shall have wealth enough to confront Prester-john, and the Grand Signior too.  Clod. 
If that be all, my life for yours. Valiant! Why Mars himself was an arr●…nt coward to me; I have beat him at voot-ball above twenty times. If you did but see me once, i warrant you would call me goodman Hector as long as I lived for't. Did you not see how i cuff with Hercules for a twopenny loaf last Curmasse? Let Plutus go! No, let me return again to onions and pease-porridge then, and never be acquainted with the happiness of a sirloin of rost-beef.  Chre. 
Well neighbours, march in. I see Blepsidemus coming toward. He has heard of my good fortune, that makes him foot it so fast. In the days of my poverty all my friends went on crutches; they would come to me as fast as black Snails: but now they can outrun Dromedaries. This 'tis to be rich and Now I have a rich loadstone lieth under my Threshold that draws in all their Iron Spurs.  

He that will have his friends about him tuck,  
Must have th' alluring bait of golden muck.   Ex. omnes.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 3.  Enter Blepsidemus, Chremylus. Blepsid. 

What should this be? or by what means? 'tis strange  
That my friend Cremylus is grown so rich;  
I scarce beliveed, because I know him honest,  
Yet every barber's shop reports it boldly.  
'Tis very strange he should grow rich' o'th' sudden.  
And then 'tis stranger far, that being grown wealthy,  
He calls his poor friends to be part'ners with him;  
I am sure, 'tis not the courtesy of England.   Chr. 
Friend Blepsidemus, welcome; I am not the same beggarly Chremylus I was yesterday. Be merry, true-blew, be merry; thou art one of my friends too, I'll put you all into a humour of thriving.  Blep. 
Are you so wealthy sir, as report speaks?  Chr. 

So wealthy? ha, soft and fair. Cozen  
Blepsidemus, i shall be anon:  
Things of great consequence have some danger in them.   Blep. 
Danger? What danger?  Chr. 
Why, J'll tell thee all. If we bring this business to pass, we shall be brave blades, Be drunk with Sack and Claret every day; glutted with roast Beef, Pasties and Marrybone-pies: but if our hopes be frustrate, we are undone, we must to Leeks and Onions again.  Blep. 

All is not right, i fear, i do not like it,  
Thus suddenly to thrive, and thus to fear;  
Makes me suspect my judgement and his honesty.   Chr. 
What honesty?  Blep. 

If those your sacrilegious hands have plundered  
Apollo's Temple, and enriched your Coffers  
With Gold and Silver, ravished from the Altars.  
If you repent, yet do not mock your friends:  
Perchance, you have invited all your neighbours  
To hear you make a learned confession;  
To shake hands from the Ladder, and take leave  
Of their dear Chremylus at the fatal Tree:  
No, you shall pardon me, ●…me not in the humour,  
To take a walk toward Paddington to day.   Chr. 
Marry heavens forbid! there's no such cause nor matter.  Blep. 
Nay, trifle now no longer: 'tis too manifest.  Chr. 
You do me wrong, thus to suspect a friend.  Blep. 

'Fore Jove, i think there's not an honest man,  
But drossy earthy muck-worm-minded Vassals,  
And these full soon mortgage their Souls for Silver:  
Jove's image for the States—   Chr. 
By heaven I think thou art mad. Do thy naked brains want clothing, Blepsidemus? for i see thy wit is gone a woolgathering.  Blep. 

I see Chremylus is not Chremylus, for methinks  
Who hath lost his honesty hath lost himself.   Blep. 
As sure as can be, some gibed Cat that died issueless, has adopted thee for her heir, and bequeathed the legacy of her melancholy to thee. It is impossible thou shouldst be so mad else.  Blep. 

Thy countenance so oft changing, and thy eyes  
Unconstant gogling, call thee guilty Chremylus,  
Of a dishonest juggling soul.   Chr. 
Nay, good Raven, do not croak so. I know what your croaking tends to. Now if i had stolen any thing, you and the devil would have put in for a share.  Blep. 
Do I do this to claim my share, what share▪  Chr. 
Come there is no such matter my fingers have not learned the slight of hand. Picking and stealing is none of their profession.  Blep. 

O 'tis some learned distinction; what, you'll say  
You did not steal, you did but take't away;  
Well, 'tis not good to equivocate with a Halter,  
Gregory is a cunning Disputant:  
An argument of Hemp is hardly answered.   Chr. 
What melancholy Devil has possessed thee? I am sure it is no merry one. This madness doth not smell of Edmonton.  Blep. 
Whom have you plundered then? whose Bung is nipped.  Chr. 
No man's.  Blep. 

O Hercules! whose tongue speaks truth?  
In what cold Zone dwells naked honesty?   Chr. 
I see, friend, you condemn me ●…'re you know the truth.  Blep. 

Come, do not jest your neck into the Noose,  
Tell me betimes, that with the Key of Gold  
I may lock up the Vermin's mouth. Informers  
Are dangerous cattle, if they once but yawn;  
As bad as Sequestrators, but l'se undertake.   Chr. 
I will not have you undertake any thing for me; you will be at too much charges: Sir, my intent is to enrich all honest men.  Blep. 
Why, have you stolen so much?  Chr. 
No faith, a little will serve the turn, there are so few of them. But sirrah, know i have Plutus himself at home.  Blep. 
Who, Plutus? God of wealth.  Chr. 
The same, by heaven and hell.  Blep. 
What, heaven and hell by Westminster-hall, where Lawyers and Parliament men eat French-broth? Have you Plutus, by Vesta?  Chr. 
Yes and by Neptune too.  Blep. 
What Neptune? Neptune of the Sea?  Chr. 
By Neptune of the Sea, or any other Neptune in Europe. He is the smal-leg●…d Gentleman-Ushers god; for his Chariot is drawn with Calves.  Blep. 
Why do you not send him about among your friends?  Chr. 
What, before he have recovered his eyesight?  Blep. 
Why, is Plutus blind?  Chr. 
By Jove is he.  Blep. 
Nay, i did always think so; and that's the reason he could never find the way to my house.  Chr. 
But now he shall at a shorthand.  Blep. 
What, brachygrapie? Thomas Sheltons' Art?  Chr. 
No, I mean suddenly.  Blep. 
He shall be welcome: But why do you not get some skilful Oculist for him? Have you never a chirurgeon about the town that hath Eyes to sell of his own making?  Chr. 
Now the Spittle-house on the puckfist tribe of them. If a man have but a cut Finger, the Cure of it shall be as long as the Siege of Breda: physicians and Surgeons are good for nothing but to fill Graves and Hospitals.  Blep. 
Sure then, that's the reason none but Sextons pray for them.  Chr. 
No, i'll have a better device; he shall go to the Temple of Esculapius.  Blep. 
Come let us make haste, To be rich as soon as we can. Dives qui fieri vult, Et cito vult fieri—  Chr. 
We will get a Fieri facias of the Lawyers. They pick all the wealth out of the countrymen's pockets. Have but patience, i will warrant thee as Rich as any Alderman.  Offer●… to Ex.  

Act 2. Scaen. 4.  Enter Penia and meets them. Pen. 
Must i needs meet you, you old Dotards? Are you not ashamed of your grey coxcombs? you are going about a fine piece of impudence, to undo me and all my children. But i shall plague you for it.  Cir. 
Now Hercules and his club defend me!  Pen. 
I le cut your throats, and slit your impudent gurgulios, you Calves at threescore: How dare you undertake such confederacy? but you shall throttle for't, by all the ash-coloured cattle about me.  Blep. 
What creature is this with the red-ochre face? She looks as if she were begot by Marking-stones.  Chr. 
By stones sure: 'tis some E●…ynnis that is broke loose from the Tragedy.  Blep. 
By Jeronymo, her looks are as terrible as Don Andraea, or the Ghost in Hamlet.  Chr. 
Nay, 'tis rather one of Belzebub's Heralds.  Blep. 
Why so?  Chr. 
Why, dost thou not see how many several Coats are quartered in her Arms?  Pen. 
So, so; and who do you think I am?  Blep. 
Some Bawd of Shoreditch, or Turnbul Broker of Maidenheads, &c.  Chr. 
Why woman, why dost thou follow us? we have done thee no wrong.  Pen. 
No, good honest Scavengers, no wrong! By the skin betwixt my eyebrows, but I'll make you know 'tis a wrong. Is it no wrong to cast me out of every place, and leave me nowhere to be in?  Chr. 
Yes, thou shalt have the liberty of Hell, and all good kindnesses the honest Devils can do thee, for my sake. But what art thou? why dost not thou tell us who thou art?  Pen. 
One that will be soundly revenged on you all, for committing more than gunpowder treason against a poor woman, that hath not so much as a tooth in her head that means you any harm.  Blep. 
We will not trust so much as thy gums for all that. Who art thou?  Pen. 
I am Poverty, Penia Poverty, eldest daughter of Asotus Spend-all, of Brecknockshire; One that hath kept house with you this thirty years and upwards; I have sit winter and summer at your Great-grandfathers table.  Blep. 
O Apollo and the rest of the Spittle-house gods! tell me how I may run away.  Chr. 
Nay, stay you cowardly drone.  Blep. 
Stay! no not for the world, I will not keep Poverty company; there be vormine about her which I would be loathe should cozen the worms of my carcase.  Pen. 
Dare you grunt, you unethical rustics, being taken in the fact?  Chr. 
Stay Coward, shall two men run away from one woman?  Blep. 
One woman! Ay, but 'tis Poverty; Penia Poverty, or Penia pennyless.  
No tiger so cruel: I had rather fight with Mall Cutpurse and my Lady Sands both together at quarterstaff.  Chr. 
Good Blepsidemus stay.  Blep. 
Good Chremylus run away.  Chr. 
Shall we leave Plutus thus?  Blep. 
How shall we resist this warlike Amazon, the valiantest of all tinker's trulls and doxies! She has made me pawn my Bilbo-blade and rusty Head-piece at the Alehouse many a time in arrant policy. Let us run; there is no hope of safety but in footmanship. Our valour is clean contrary to Achilles, for our greatest security lies in our heels. Let us run: stonewalls are not defence enough, her hunger will break through and devour us.  Chr. 
Take thy porridge-pot( man) for a Helmet, thy Ladle for a Spear, and a Sword of Bacon, and thou art armed against Poverty cap-a-pe: And then Plutus shall come and cut her throat, and raise a trophy out of her miserable carcase.  Pen. 
Da●…e you snarl, you curs, after the contriving such damnable injury?  Blep. 
What injury, you old Beldame! We have not ravished thee, I am sure; thy beauty is not so much moving. Dost think we mean to lie with red-ochre! to commit fornication with a red-lettuce! I know not what thy lower parts can do; but thy very Forehead is able to burn us. Let thy Salamander-Nose and Lips live in perpetual flames, for me; Jove send thee everlasting fire! There is no Cupid in thy complexion: a man may look upon thee, without giving the flesh occasion to tempt the spirit: i●… all were made of the same clay thou art, Adultery would be a stranger in England.  Pen. 
O immortal gods, is it no injury to restore Plutus to his eyesight! Now Furi●…s put our all your eyes, and then consume all the dogs in Christendom, that there may be none to lead you!  Chr. 
What harm is it to you, if we study the Catholic good of all mankind?  Pen. 
What Catholic good of mankind? I'm sure the Roman Catholic religion commands wilful poverty.  Blep. 
That is because Plutus is blind: his blindness is the cause of that devotion. But when Plutus can see again, we will kick you out of the Universe, and leave you no place but the Universities: marty those you may claim by custom, 'tis your pennyless bench; we give you leave to converse with sleeveless Gowns and threadbare Cassocks.  Pen. 
But what if i persuade you its necessary that Poverty live amongst you?  Blep. 
Persuaded! we will not be persuaded; for we are persuaded not to be persuaded, though we be persuaded. Thus we are persuaded; and we will not be persuaded to persuade ourselves to the contrary, any ways being persuaded.  Pen. 
If i do not, do what you will with me; leave me no place to rest in, but the empty Study of that pitiful Poet, that hath botched up this poor Comedy with so many patches of his ragged wit, as if he meant to make Poverty ●… Coat of it.  Blep. 
〈◊〉 Tu●…pana, kai Cophona●… 〈◊〉 Jack Dolophin and his kettledrum defend us.  Cor. 
But if you be convicted and nonplussed, what punishment will you submit yourself unto?  Pen. 
To any.  Blep. 
Ten deaths: other Cats have but nine, Gram●…lkin herself. Let us be sure Povery die out▪ right, I begin to be bowsie in he●… company▪ Let's march.  Exeunt ambo. Pen. 
Yet I thank Jove I am better acquainted in City and Country, than these think of. In the City many that go in gayclothes know me; in the Country I am known for Taxes, Excise and Contributions: besides I have an army royal of Royalists, that now live under the S●…questration-Planet, i shall muster them up if need be. But first I will go ma●…shal up my Forlorn-hopes of Tat●…erdemallians, Welsh, English, Scols, and Irish. i hope to give these Round— a breakfast, for all they vapour now; I hope to bring 'em under my dominion shortly.  Exit Penia.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 5.  Enter Scrape-all, Clodpole, stiff, Dicaeus, and Poverty. Clodp. 
Neighbours, I'th' hair we must chop logic with Poverty;' cha wonder what this Logicking is, tid never know yet te year: they zay one gaffer Aristotle was the first vounder of it, A bots on him!  Scrap. 
Cha remember my zon went to the Varsity, and I ha heard him say a fine song:  

Hang Brerwood and Carter in C●…akanthorps garter,  
Let K●…kerman too bemoan us:  
J'll be no more beaten for greasy Jack Seaton,  
And cunning of Sandersonus.   
At Oxford▪ or Cambridge 'twould make a man a hungry to hear 'em talk of gism and Argations, and Pretticables and Predicaments, and gatur Antecedens and Pro●…ums and Postriorums, and Probo's and Valleris. Cha think this logic a hard thing next to the Black-Art.  Stiff. 
Neighbours, an't be so, what a murrain ails us! why, shall we venture Plutus on Pretticables and Predicarments? shall we lose all our hopes by an Argo valleris? This is my pinion, this same Poverty will prove the best Computant of 'em all: why, she cannot choose but repute( as Mr. Ficar says) very well, and most tregorically.  Dicae. 
Tregorically! Categorically neighbour; Sir John meant so I warrant you.  Stiff. 
Why, tregorically, and catergolically; T●…e and Cater, there's but an ace difference, therefore bate me an ace quoth Bolton, and I say she will repute very well and tregorically, for she hath ever kept company with Scholars ever since my memory or my granam's either. No, let me take my Catergorical Flail in hand; and if i do not thresh her to death with lusty arguments, let me never live to problem again at a Peaserick.  Dicae. 
Neighbours, be content. Poverty stand you on one side▪ and I●…le, stand on the other; for I will be opposite to you è diametro, and teach you to know your distance. Thus I dispute. The question is, Whether Plutus ought to receive his eyesight? I say I, & sic probo.  

If it be fit that good and honest men,  
Whose souls are fraught with virtue, should possess  
Riches and wealth, which Heaven did mean should be  
The just reward of goodness: while proud Vice,  
Stripped of her borrowed and usurped robes,  
Should have her loathed deformities unmasqued;  
And vicious men that spread their peacock's trains,  
Have carcases as naked as their souls.  
But if once Plutus should receive his eyes,  
And but discern 'twixt men, the world were changed:  
Then goodness and full coffers, wealth and honesty  
Might meet, embrace, and thrive, and kiss together;  
While vice with all her partners starves and pines,  
Rotting to dirt and filth, leaving to hell  
Black souls. Who better counsel can devise?  
Ergo 'tis fit Plutus receive his eyes.   Clodp. 
That Argo has nettled her, I warrant. Thou shalt be Plutus his Professor for this. What has my she-Bellarmine now to answer?  Dicae. 

As the mad world goes now, who could believe  
But purblind fate and chance did hold the sceptre  
Of human actions? Who beholds the miseries  
Of honest mortals, and compares their fortunes  
With the unsatiable pleasures of gross Epicures,  
Whose bursten bags are glutted with the spoils  
Of wretched Orphans: who( I say) sees this,  
But would almost turn Atheist, and forswear  
All heaven, all gods, all divine providence!  
But if to Plutus we his eyes restore,  
Good men shall grow in wealth, and Knaves grow poor.   Stiff. 
In my pinion this simple-gism—  Dic. 
Fie neighbour, 'tis a syllogism.  Stiff. 
Why simple and silly is all one: be what gism it will be, sure 'twas not in true mud and figtree, there was never a Tar-box in the breech of it.  Pen. 
O Dotards, how easily you may be persuaded to die as arrant fools as you were born! If Plutus recover his eyesight, and distribute his riches equally, you shall see what will become of your Anabaptistical Anarchy: what arts or sciences would remain. If every Vulcan be as good as yourselves, what Smug will make your worship's dripping-pans?  Dicae. 
Why he that makes the Fire-shovels and tongues▪ or if all fail, Quisque est fortun●… suae faber, we'll make our dripping pans ourselves: we can do more than that, we can preach to ourselves already.  Pen. 
Who would cobble your shoes, or mend your honourable stockings?  Dic. 
O there be Sermon-makers enough can do that bravely: the only metaphysics they are beaten in, Rem acu▪ ●…angunt.  Pen. 
Who would carry you up to London, if the waggon-driver should think himself as good a man as his master?  Dic. 
Why we would ride thither on our own Hackney-Consciences.  Pen. 
Nay if this were so, the very tailors though they damned you all to hell under their shop-boards, would scorn to come to the making up of as good a man as Pericles Prince of Tyre.  Dic. 
Marry that were a happy time for the Low-Countries: the Spanish Pike would not then be worth a Bodkin.  Pen. 
There would be no Presbyters to directorise you, no laundresses to soap you, no ploughmen to feed you, no innkeepers to fox you, no Sycophants to flatter you, no Friends to cheat you. Ergo you have brought your hogs to a fair market.  Stiff. 
How she proves herself a Sow in conclusion!  Dic. 
'Twas in Conclusion, that it might not be denied. Me thinks Poverty disputes very poorly, and that's a wonder; for likely the naked truth is on her side.  Clod. 
Yet she remembered an Argo, and that made her argument not so weak and impudent: in my pinion this Argo is a quarterstaff at least.  Dic. 
And( Poverty) what good turn can you do us, except it be to fill our ears with the bawlings of hungry brats and brawling bastards? No doubt you can bring us a flock of fleas and a herd of lice to store the pasture grounds of our miserable microcosms; the unmannerly hogs with hunger betimes to desire us to defer our breakfasts a fortnight longer. You can give us field-beds, with heaven for our canopy, and some charitable stones for our pillows. We need not expect the felicity of a horse to lie at rack and manger; but yet our asses and we must be content with the same provender. No Rost-beef, no shoulders of Mutton, no cheesecakes, no Matchivilian Florentines:  

And whence our greatest grief does rise,  
No plumb-porridge, nor no Plumbpudding pies.   
Ergo( Poverty) I will answer your arguments at the whipping-post.  Lackl. 
That was strong and piercing for plumb-porridge: for truly one porringer of plumb-porridge is an argument more unanswerable than Campians ten Reasons.  Dic. 
Aliter probo sic. Your poor creatures have not wherewith to bu●…y themselves; but it is not fit that the soul should go a beging for the charges of the body's funeral. Ergo falleris Domina Poverty.  Pen. 
You do not dispute seriously, you put me off with trifling ●…gations. Thus I dispute. If I make men better than Riches, I am to be preferred before Riches. But I make men better: for poor men have the better consciences, because they have not so much guilt, i call their empty purses to witness. Aliter probo sic. i moralize men better than Plutus: Exemplum gratia: Plutus makes men with puffed faces, dropsy bodies, Bellies as big as the great Tub at Heidelberg; Noses by the virtue of Malmsie so full of Rubies, that you may swear, had Poverty had dominion in their Nativities, they had never had such rich faces: Besides, they have eyes like turkeycocks, Double-chins, Flapdragon-cheeks, Lips that may spare half an ell, and yet leave kissing room enough. Nay, 'tis the humour of this age, they think they shall never be great men, unless they have gross bodies. Marry I keep men spare and lean, slender and nimble; mine are all Diminutives, Tom Thumbs, not one Colossus, not one Garagantua amongst them; fitter to encounter the enemy by reason of their agility, in l●…e danger of shot for their tenuity, and most expert in running away, such is their celerity. Ergo, Irus is a good soldier, and Midas is an ass.  Scrap. 
Troth she has touched Midas; she has caught him by the worshipful ears.  Dic. 
Nay 'tis no wonder if they be slender enough, you keep them with such spare diet: they have so much Lent and fasting-days, that they need not fear the danger of being as fat as Committee-men. If a man should see a company of their lean carcases assembled together, it would make him think doomsday were come to town before its time.  Pen. 
Moreover, that which is most noble is most preferable. But Poverty is most noble. Minor I prove thus: Whose houses are most ancient, those are most noble: But Poverties houses are most ancient; for some of them are so old, like Vicaridge-houses, they are every hour in danger of falling.  Clod. 
What a silly woman's this to talk of Nobility houses! Does not she know we are all Levellers, there's no Nobility now.  Stiff. 
Neighbour, I think so too: I am an Unpundant too, I think.  Dic. 
Nay she does not dispute well. Her Ma●… was born in Bedlam, her Minor w●…s whipped in Bridewell, Ergo her Conclusion is run out of her wits. For well said M. Rhombus, Ecce mulier blancata quasi lilium. Now I oppose her with a Dilemma, alias the Cuckold of Arguments. My Dilemma is this: Citizens and Townsmen are ●…ich, for there's the Co●…nucopia; Ergo, Riches are better than Poverty. Nay, i●… Riches were not in some account, why would Jupiter be so rich? for you see he has engrossed to himself the golden age of 〈◊〉, and the silver age of Shillings and Six-pences, and left us nothing but the brazen age of plundering and Impudence; for tinker's Tokens are gone away too. To conclude in one syllogism more, i will prove my Tenet true by the example of 〈◊〉 Queen of Hell; she would turn the clerk of her kitchen out of his office, and not suffer him to be the devil's manc●…ple any longer, if he should bring any lean carcase or any carrion-soul to be served up at her table. Her chief dish is the larded soul of a plump Usurer, basted with the dripping of a greasy Alderman; the sauce being made with the brains of a great Congerheaded Lawyer, buttered with the grease of a well-fed Committee-man, served up for want of saucers in the two ears of an unconscionable Scrivener. Ergo, Poverty, you may go and hang your s●…lf.  Pen. 
O for the Barbadoes! i have no place left for my entertainment.  Dic. 
Come brethren, let us kick her out of the Universe.  Pen. 
O whither shall i betake myself!  Dic. 
To the house of Charity.  Pen. 
To the house of Charity? that's an old ruined cold lodging, as bad as a Correction house. Good your worships, take some pity on miserable Poverty!  Dic. 
Did you ever hear such a solecism?  Lack. 
Troth master, i never knew it in my life: All our Parish was ever against it.  Clod. 
And ours too, and i think all England over.  Dic. 
Poverty, than i say thou shalt have a Justice of peace's charity, the whipping-post; thou shalt be lashed under the statute of sturdy Rogues and beggars: look for no pity, 'tis charity to pity those that are rich: Go get you packing.  Pen. 
Well, sirs, though you put Poverty away now, yet you or your heirs may be glad to send for me ere long.  Exit Poverty. Clod. 
It shall be to the gallows then, by my consent: if you mean to prevent it, the best way is to go and pine away quickly.  Stiff. 
Farewell old Rag of Babylon, for we must be rich, and therefore worshipful.  Exeunt omnes. 
By your leave Mr. Parson.  Music.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 6.  Enter Clip-latin a Parson, Dicaeus a Parson, clodpole, stiff, Scrape-all. Dic. 
Last night i laughed in my sleep. The Queen of Fairies tickled my nose with a Tithe-p●…gs tail. I dreamt of another Benefice, and see how it comes about! Next morning Plutus the God of wealth comes to my house, and brings me an Augmentation and a good fat Living. He said he came to visit me: as sure as can be i am ordained to be rich at his Visitation, 'tis better than the Bishops or Archdeacons. Now must i be one of the Assembly, and walk demurely in a long black Cl●…ak at Westminster, forgetting all my Greek and Latin.  Clip. 
Faith brother, that have i done already: my name's Cl●…p-latine truly; i read a Homily, and pray by the Service-book divinely.  Dic. 
Divinely, quoth a! Thou must take Ex tempore in hand, or else thou wilt ne'er be rich in these days.  Clip. 
Do you hear, neighbours! shall us leave the commonprayer?  Stiff. 
God forbid, Mr Ficar! why 'twas writ in David's time; and Thomas Ste●…nhold and John Hopkins joined it to the Psalms in those days, and turned it into such excellent Metre, that i can sleep by it as well as any in the Parish.  Clod. 
Besides, naighbour, we don't know this new Sect what they pray, we can't vollow them in their Ext●…umperies.  Clip. 
You see the case is clear, Sir: i am for the King and the Prayer-Book.  Stiff. 
Well said Parson, we shall love thee the better for that, hold there still.  Dic. 
Yet( Brother) because thou art of our cloth, I'll speak to Plutus for thee. Thou shalt have twenty pounds per annum standing stipend, and the love of thy Parish because thou takest nothing of them, dost mark me? Twenty pounds, I say. I must be gone.  Exit. Dic. Clip. 
A good saying and a rich. Now shall I surfiet in a satin Cloak; from twenty nobles to twenty pounds! O brave!  Scrap. 
We are glad of it vaith Mr. Ficar.  Clip. 
Come Neighbours, upon this good news, let's chop up and to my Nost Sn●…go's, he'll be glad to hear of it too. I am resolved to build no more Sconces, but to pay my old tickets. Come let's in and drink a Cup of stingo.  Stiff. 

Vaith Vicar, thou givest us good destruction still.  
Come in, come, come.    

Act. 2. Scaen. 7.  Enter Blepsid●…mus, Chremyl●…s, Ca●…ion. Blep. 
O the divinity of being rich! Now Plutus is come. But who is Plutus? why, he is the nobleman's Tutor, the Princes and States fl●…et of Pl●…te, the Lawyers Littleton, the Major and aldermen's Fur-gown, the Justice's Warrant, the Constable and Bumbailies tipstaff, the Astronomers Blazing star, the Mathematicians Record or counting table, the Cavaliers Service-book, the Presbyterians Directory, the Independens Extempore, the Pope's golden Legend, the friar's Nun, the monks Breviary, the Worldlings God, the Prelates Cannons, and Bishop's Oath, &c.— I could reckon more, but he is the very Ladder to worship and honour. I must be rich, and therefore honourable, and proud, and grave.  Chr. 
O gentlemanlike resolution!  Blep. 
Yet now I think on't, i will not be grave; for grave bodies do naturally descend to base Conditions, which is clean contrary to the complexion of my humour; yet i will cry hum with the best in the Parish. I will understand as little as the 〈◊〉 Citizen of them all.  Chr. 
Marry, and that's a proud word, Blepsidemus.  Blep. 
I will sleep as soundly at Church and snort as loud at Sermons as the churchwarden himself, or the Master of the Company.  Chr. 
O infinite ambition!  Blep. 
I will entertain none for my Whores under the reputation of Ladies, unless they be Parsons daughters.  Chr. 
O! because they may claim the benefit of the clergy.  Blep. 
I will deign none the honour of being my worships Cuckolds, that is not a round-headed Brother of the Corporation.  Chr. 
He'el make it a principle of the City Charter. Horns of such making, will be of as great esteem as the Cap of maintenance.  Blep. 
Hereafter Gentlemen, hereafter, I say, in contempt of a penny quart, I will throw P●…spot-lane in the face of money-corner: i will be foxed nowhere but at Round-headed Inns, that i may be honestly drunk, and carry it with the greater gravity and safety. The soul of Sack and the flower of Ale shall be my drink, that my very Urine may be the quintessence of Canary.  Chr. 
Why then, V●…spasian might desire no greater Revenue, than the reversion of your Chamber-pot.  Blep. 
But come let us withdraw, and carry Plutus to the Temple of Esculapius; Carion make ready the necessaries, see you play the Sumpter-horse with discretion. Let us make haste, for i long to be worshipful.  

Come friends, this day gives period to our sorrow,  
We will d●…own ca●…es in bowls of Sack to morrow.   Ex●…unt ambo.   

Act 3.  

Scaen. 1.  Enter Penia Poverty, Higgen, Termock, Brun, Caradock, and an Army of Rogues. Pen. 

Soldiers, you see men Poverty▪ despise  
Since God of Riches hath recovered eyes;  
Let us invade them now with might and main  
And make them know their former state again;  
March forth brave Champions, though your Noble Valours  
Be out at Elbows, show yourselves to be  
Patches of worth, rags of Gentility.  
Brave Blades, arrayed in dishclouts, dirty Plush,  
Like the grave Senators of Beggars-bush;  
With Poverty, sole Empress of your States,  
Spend your best blood, you have no wealthy Fates:  
Me thinks I see your Valours, and espy  
Each rag, a Trophy of your Victory.  
Come B●…un, thou worthy Scot of gallant race,  
What though thou lost an arm at Chevy-chase,  
Resume thy valour. And thou Caradock,  
True Leek of Wales, Pendragon's noble stock  
Stir up thy▪ Welsh-blood to encounter these,  
With zeal as fervent as thy toasted Cheese.  
And thou brave Red-shank too, Termock by name,  
Wonder of Red-shanks, & Hybernia's fame.  
To conquer these, or scatter them like chaff;  
Or lick them up as glib as Usqu●…baghe.  
And Higgen thou, whose potent Oratory▪  
Makes Beggars-bush admire thy eloquent story,  
Come bravely on and rescue me from danger,  
Else Poverty to you will prove a stranger,  
Which heavens forbid.   All. 
Poverty, poverty, poverty for our money!  Pen. 
Nay, without money Sirs, and be constant too.  All. 
Poverty, poverty, poverty, our patroness!  Carad. 
Cat's plutrer a nails; Her were best by her troth take very many heeds, how her make a commotion in her stomachs; if her ploud be but up twice and once, her will tug out her Sword, and gads, let her take very many heed, her will carbonado very much Legs and Arms. By St: Taffie, I'll tear the most valiantest of them all into as arrant atoms as there be motes in the Moon. Try he dare whose will; I tickle their hoopsir Dominees, else, never let her sing hapatery, while she has live any longer. If her do not conquer them upside down, let her never while she lives in Heviope, god bless her, eat Coush-bobby with the man in the Moon. Her Coshen Merlin her countryman, hath told her in a Whisper, very a many much tale of her valour above fourscore and twenty years since.  Pen. 

Bravely resolved; O how I love thy Valour!  
'tis sweeter than Metheglin, I all Canarvon cannot afford a Comrade half so noble.   Ter. 
And Termock vill shpend te besht ploud in hish heelsh in the servish.  Pen. 
Renowned Termock, thanks from our Princely self.  Ter. 
Nay, keep ty tancks to thyself, Termock is tie trushty shubsheckt.  Brun. 
And aies w●…s gang with thee Mon. Eyes have been a prupder good man in the Borders. Eyes fought blithe and bonny for the gewd Earl Duglasse: eyes show thy foemen a Scutch trick. Eyes mumble their crags like a sheehead or Cokes-nose, Ais I do not let me bund to Sup with nothing but Perk and Sow-baby.  Pen. 

Well said brave Brun, hold but thy Resolution,  
And never a soldier breathing shall excel thee.   Brun. 
Nay's mon, aif I cannot give 'em much rashers enough myself, eyes gang home to my Belliba●…ne and get lusty Martial Barns, shall pell-mell their Noddles: What gars great Higgen?  Hig. 

Attend, attend; I Higgen the grand orator  
Begin to yawn, lend me your ass' ears;  
Give auscultation. Higgen, whose pikestaff rhetoric,  
Makes all the world obey your Excellence  
By cudgeling them with crabtree eloquence.  
By lusty Doxies, there's not a choir Cove,  
Nobler than I in all the bousing ken  
That are 'twixt Hockly' i'th' hole and Islington.  
By these good stampers, upper and nether Duds;  
I'll nip from Ruffmen of the Harmanbeck,  
Though glimmered in the fambles, I cly the chates:  
I'll stand the Pad or Mill, the Churches deneir.  
Nip bungs, dupp gibbers leaguer, lowze and bowse.  
Liggen in strummel, in darkmans for pannum  
Should the grand Ruffian come to mill me, I  
Would scorn to shuttle from my Poverty:   Pen. 

So, so, well spoke, my noble English Tatter,  
Lead up▪ the vanguard, muster up an army,  
An army royal of Imperial Lice.   Hig. 

And i will be the Scanderbag of the Company,  
The very Tamberlane of this ragged rout;  
Come follow me my soldiers—   Brun. 
Yaws grand Captain, fir, suft and fair; gar away, there be gewd men in the Company. Eyes Captain, for eyes have more scutch Lice, than thou hast English creepers, or He British Goats about him.  Hig. 

What then? my I ice are of the noble breed,  
Sprung from the Danes, Saxons and Normans blood;  
True English-born, all plump and all well savoured:  
Take warning then good sir, be not so proud,  
As to compare your vermin sir, with ours.   Ter. 
Pleash ty shit grash, let nedder nodder of them my shit Empress have te plash of tie Captain, i am te besht of edder odder. I have seen te fash of the vild Irish. Termock knows vat it is to fight in the pox like a valiant Costermonger, up to the Nosh in ploud. Not to make much prittle and prattle to none purposh▪ Termock has fight under Oncale, for her King and Queen in te wars. Vat, i speak tish by te Shoes of Patrick, if that Termock be the Captain, thou shalt beat tie foes to pieces and pashes.  Carad. 
Is Caradock no respected amongst her; Her Lice are better a pedecree as the gooddst of them all. Her Lice come ap Shinkin, ap shone, ap Owen, ap Richard, ap Morgan, ap Hugh, ap Brutus, ap Silvius, ap Aeneas, and so up my shoulder. An't her Lice will no●… deshenerate from her petticree precious coals. Her ancestors fought in the Wars of Troy, by this Leck, as lustily as the Lice of Troilus. Nay, by St. Taffie, the Lice of Hector, were but Nits in comparison of her magnanimous Lice. Do not disparage her nor her Lice, if her love her guts in her belly.  Ter. 
But if Termock have no Lish, sall l e derefore not be te Captain? Posh on her Lish. Termock hash none grash a Patrick; no such venomous things vill preed in hish Country.  Hig. 

I will be Captain, for my Robes: re martial:  
T●…ue martial Robes, full of uneureable wounds.  
My Doublet is adorned with thousand scars,  
My Breeches have endured more storms and tempests  
Then any man's that lies perdue for Puddings.  
I have kept Sentinel every night this twelve month;  
Beheaded Ducks and Geese, spitted the Pigs,  
And all to Victual this camp of Rogues.   Carad. 
In-faith, and her clothes are as ancient a petticree▪ as thine, her ferry doublet is coshen sherman to utter P. ndragons Sherken, or else Caradock is a ferry rogue by Saint Taffie.  Pen. 

You shall not thus contend, who shall be Captain;  
I'll do't myself, Come follow me brave soldiers.   Brun. 
I faith! she is a brave Virago mon.  Carad. 

By St. Taffie, she is an Amashon, a Deborah,  
A Brunduca, a Joan of Oleance,  
Pucelle de Dieu, a Mall C●…tpurse, a Long-meg of Westminster.   Ter. 
She shall be te Captain, for all tee, or any odder in English land.  Hig. 

Whips on you all! follow the feminine gender?  
Fight under th' ensign of a Petticoat?  
An act unworthy such brave spirits as we:  
Remember our old virtues, shall we forget  
Our ancient Valou●…s? Shall we in this one action  
Stain all our honour, blur our reputations:  
Can men of such high fortunes deign to s●…oop  
To such dishonourable terms? How can our thoughts  
Give entertainment to such low designs?  
My spirits yet are not dissolved to whey,  
I have no soul, so poor as to obey,  
To suffer a smock rampant to conduct me.   Brun. 
Aife thou's keep a mundring mandring, mon, i'll gang to Edinborow. The Deill lead your army for Brun, aies no meddle, Adieu, adieu.  Carad. 
Ah Brun! Blerawhee, blerawhee.  Ter. 
Ah Brun, Brun! Shulecrogh, feather vilt thou, feather vilt thou?  Brun. 
What yaw doing mon to call Brun back; and you be sules, I'll stay no longer.  Carad. 
Ah Brun, Brun! shall be Captain, by all te green Sheese in the Moon. Brun shall be Captain for Caradock, if her would not give place to Brun▪ her heart were as hard as F●…int-shire.  Ter. 
Brun shall be te besht in te company, if there were a thousand thousand of 'um.  Hig. 

I'll not resign my right, i will be Captain.  
'Tis fit I should: Hath not my valour oft  
Been tried, at Bridewell and the Whipping-post?   Pen. 

Let Higgen then be Captain, his sweet tongue  
And powerful rhetoric may persuade the Rout.   Carad. 
Cat's plutter a nails, Higgen shall be Captain for her Ears; yet Caradock will be valiant in spite of her Teeth.  
Ho brave Captain Higgen!  O●…n. 
Higgen, a Higgen, a Higgen.  Hig. 

So then soldiers, follow your Leader: Valiant Brun  
Lead you the Rear; you Termock shall command  
The Regiment of Foot. Generous Caradock  
Have you a care of the Left-wing.   Carad. 
O disparashment to her reputation! Brutus' hish Coshen look the whing. Think you her will flee away. Her will stand to it tooth and nail, while there be skin and bones in her belly.  Brun. 
Let the Army gang to the Deill. Eyes no meddle.  Ter. 
Stay there man, vat to●… do Brun?  Hig. 

My brave co●…radoes, Knights of tattered Fleece,  
Like Falsta●…s Regiment, you have one shirt among you.  
Well seen in plundering money for the alehouse.  
Such is the fruit of our domestic broils,  
We are returned to ancient Poverty  
Yet( seeing we are lousy) let us show our breeding.  
Come, though we shrug, yet lets not leave our calling:  
Lieutenants Rampant, bravely all trained up  
At the well skilled Artillery of Bridewell;  
March on brave soldiers, you that near turned back  
To any terror but the beadle's whip.   Brun. 
St. Andrew, St. Andrew.  Car. 
St. Taffie, St. Taffie.  Hig. 
St. George, St. George.  Ter. 
St. Patrick, St. Patrick.  Pen. 

Saints are discarded.  
But Andrew, Taffie, George, and Patrick too  
May the whole ●…esse of them be all propitious!   Hig. 

If any do resist us, let us throw  
Our Crutches at them. I have here  
An empty sleeve to strike out all their teeth,  
Besides a ma●…kin to wipe all our wounds.  
Be valiant, and as earest the Spanish cobbler  
Enjoined his eldest son upon his deathbed:  
See you do nothing, that may ill beseem  
The Families you come of; let not the ashes  
Of your dead ancestors blush at your dishonours;  
Increase your glory of your House; for me  
J'll ne'er disgrace my noble progeny.   Car. 
Caradock disgrash her Petticree? No, by St. Prutus' bones; her will fight till her stand, while there be legs in her beels. If her pe killed, her will not run away.  Brun. 
Eyes gar away? Eyes not budge a foot by St. Andrew.  Ter. 
Termock disgrash hish fadders and mudders? Termock will stand while there be breath in his breech.   

Act. 3. Scaen. 2.  Carion, Clodpole, Lackland, Stiff, Scrape-all, to them. Carion whips them. they run. Pen. 
Higgen, Scandebeg, Tamburlaine, grand Captain Higgen.  Hig. 
Soldier's shift for yourselves. We are all routed.  Pen. 
Is this you would not disgrace your noble Progeny?  Hig. 
My Ancestors were all footmen. Running away will not disgrace my Progeny.  Exit. Carad. 
O disgrash to peat St. Taffie's coshen! Use the true Pritti●…h no better?  Pen. 
Caradock, will you and your Lice disgrash her Progeny? The Vermin of Hector and Troilus would not do so for all Achilles Myrmidons.  Car. 
Her do follow her petticree from head to foot: Her Grandsire En●…as ran away before.  Exit. Carad. Brun. 
Marry ill tide thee mon, use a mon of our Nation no better.  Pen. 
Generous Brun, I thought you would not have budged a foot by St. Andrew.  Brun. 

What of that woman? Eyes no endure Poverty,  
The Scots love much wealth better than so.   Exit. Brun. Pen. 
Will Termock too disgrash his Fadder and Mudders?  Ter. 
Termock runs for te credit of his heels to look the Reshiment of foot.  Ex. Ter. Pen. 

Now, woe is me, woe is my Poverty!  
That can find grace or mercy in few places.  
What shall I do? If my whole Army fly,  
I must run too; if I stay here, i die.   Exit. Pen.  

Act. 3. Scaen. 3.  Carion and the rustics, Clodpole, stiff, &c. Car. 
So now you see carrion for his valour may compare with Don Quixot or the mirror of chiva●…ry. Come, come along you old fortunate Rascals, you that in the days of Queen Richard fed upon nothing but barlybroth and puddings, you shall be rich you rogues all of you, feed hard at the council-table.  
How daintily wilt thou become a scarlet Gown, when such poor snakes as I shall come with Cap and Knee, How does your good Lordship? Did your Honour sleep well to night? How does Madam Kate and Madam Ciss, have their Honours any morningmilk-chief to sell? Will it please your Lordship to command your servant to be drunk in your honours-wine-seller? Your Honours in all duties, and so i kiss your honour's hand.  Clod. 
Thou shalt kiss my honour's tail. Then will I again say, Fellow, how does thy honourable Lord? tell him he does not congenerate from the noble family he comes of: I would have some confabilitation with him concerning a hundred of his lordship's pitchforks. But I am going to the Bench, and with the Committee to firk up the proud Priests before us, and humble the Country. Tell him Madam Kate is as sound as a Kettle: thou shouldst have concourst with her ladyship, but she is skimming her Milk-bowls, and melting her dripping-pans as busy as a bodylouse. Now fellow go into my wine-cellar to play on my sackbuts, and take no care for finding the way out again. But sirrah, see you drink my honour's health: your see I can tell what belongs to Lordships, and what is more to good manners. But what's the news abroad, my honest Coranto stilo novo sub 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Car. 
I know not what to say, but that my master is Emperor of Constantinople, a second Tamburlaine; we shall have nothing but glary beef and Bajazers in every cupboard. Plutus has left stumbling; the puppy is nine days old, and can see perfectly. Gramercy Esculapius! 'tis pity but thou shouldst have a better beard than Apollo thy father. O Esculapius, the very Pultise of Surgeons, and Urinal of physicians!  Clod. 
Vaith neighbours, then let us make bonfires: this news is as sweet as Zugarzopps.  ( He sings.) 

My Jane and I full right merrily, this jollity will avouch,  
To witness our mirth upon the green earth, together we'll dance a clatter-do-pouch. clatter-de-pouch, clatter, &c.   Lack. 

And then will i kiss thy Kate and my Cisse, as soon as i rise from my couch.  
The wenches i'll tumble and merrily jumble,  
Together we'll dance a clatter-de-pouch.   Cho. 
clatter-de-pouch, clatterde— &c.  Car. 

J'll kiss if i can our dairy-maid Nan,  
Together we'll billing be found:  
Let every slouch dance clatter-de-pouch,  
Together we'll dance a Sellenger's round.   Lack. 
I will not be found at Sellenger's round, although thou do call me a slouch. Bank's horse cannot prance a merrier dance than rumbling and jumbling a clatter-de-pouch, clatterde &c.  Cho. 
Then rumbling &c.  Exeunt Clodpole, Lackland. Enter Mrs. Chremylus, manet Carion. Mrs. 
Here's rumbling and jumbling indeed. I was spinning my daughter a new smock, and they keep such a noise I cannot sleep for 'em. Passion o' my heart, I wonder what news there is abroad, and why that knave Carion makes no more haste home.  Car. 
Now will I be an Emperor, and contemn my Mistress  Mrs. 
Cari what news Carion?  Car. 
I cannot answer them to day, command the ambassadors to attend our will to morrow.  Mrs. 
Why carrion, I say!  Car. 
Go give him my gold-chain and precious jewel.  Mrs. 
What are you mad?  Car. 

And a rich cupboard of my daintiest plate.  
Well, let me see what it will cost me now,  
For to maintain some forty thousand men  
In arms against the Turks.   Mrs. 
Sirrah, do you know yourself?  Car. 
Suppose I lend some twenty thousand millions.  Mrs. 
Some twenty thousand puddi●…gs.  Car. 
And send two hundred sail to conquer Spain, and Rupert too, and fright the Inquisition  
Out of their wits—  Mrs. 
If any be out more than thou, I'll be hanged.  Car. 

The King of Poland does not keep his word:  
And then my Tenants for my Custom-house  
Are twenty hundred thousand pounds behind hand.  
In Haberdashers-Hall, or the I'll of Tripoli.   Mrs. 
Take that for your Haberdashers-hall, or Isle of Tripoli.  ( she cuffs him) Car. 
Traitors; my guard! where are my Beef-eaters? O my old Mrs. was it you? why, are you not drunk with mirth? I was in good hope ere this to have seen you reeling in a French hood. Well, have at your old petticoat. Madam, I have news will ravish you, my dainty Madam; a bushel of unmeasurable joy.  Mrs. 
Then prithee tell thy comfortable message; and if it tickle me in the telling, I will give thee a pair of high-shoes more than thy quarters wages.  Car. 
Listen then while I anatomize my whole discourse from the head to the heel.  Mrs. 
Nay good carrion, not to the heel.  Car. 
But I will, though your heel were a Polonian, or a French heel, which is the fashion.  Mrs. 
Nay do not molest me, Carion. I am very squeamish, and may chance have a qualm come over my stomach.  Car. 
Then I begin. First we came to the god leading Plutus, then most miserable, but now as happy as Fortunatus his nightcap. First we made him a Dipper, we ducked him over head and ears in water, we made him ●…n Anabaptist.  Mrs. 
Alas poor soul, 'twas enough to have put him into an ague: one would not have used a Water-spaniel more unmercifully.  Car. 
No, nor a cursed quean in a cucking●…ool, Mrs. You see what creatures these dippers are. I warrant when the young Lasles were a dipping, the blind Rogue could see that well enough. Well, Mrs. coming to the Temple of Esculapius, where all the altars stood furnished with reaking pasties and ●…ot pippin-pies, O 'twas such sweet religion, my mouth watered at it. Just upon the hearth they were beathing a great black-pudding, to stay the god's stomach till breakfast. Here we laid Plutus in a cradle and rocked him asleep.  Mrs. 
O the folly of such Simpletons, lay ●…n old man in a cradle!  Car. 
And why not? is he not a child the second time? Next, every man made his own bed: the liberal god allowed us fresh peas-straw.  Mrs. 
And was there no more lame and impudent creatuers at this Spittle-house?  Car. 
Of all sorts, Mistress. There was a young heir newly crept out his wardship, that had been sick of a young Lady three years and upwards.  Mrs. 
Just as I am of Chremylus. sirrah, seeing you are of good parts and properties, you may presume to come sometimes into my bedchamber.  Car. 
No Mistress, the dairy-maid shall serve my turn. Next was a pretty waiting-gentlewoman, that with dreaming of her Lord, was fallen into a terrible greensickness.  Mrs. 
Now by my holidame, i could have cured that myself; if she be troubled with the maidenhead-grief, i can give her as quick deliverance as any Esculapius in Europe.  Car. 
Many Lawyers were troubled with the itch in their fingers; many young heirs in a consumption; burst Citizens so overswelled with interest-money, that they were in danger of breaking; many Treasurers, Sequestrators and Receivers came for help, for they had received so much moneys, that they had lost their eyesight, and could not see to make accounts: there were Townsmen came to have their brow-antlets knocked off, Presbyt●…ians for the Directory, Cavies for the Service-book; some Tradesmen and scholars, that had long fed upon costive Usurers, being much bound, came to the Temple to be made solluble.  Mrs. 
Nay, if he be so good at it, I'll go and see if he can cure me of my corns; they vex me so wonderfully, i cannot sleep for 'em.  Car. 
Marry Jove forbid, Mistress! should your corns be cured, how should my master do for an almanac to foretell the weather? Pond, Booker, Allestree, Jeffry Neve Gent. nay nor Merlinus Anglicus, are not half so good Astronomers as your ladyship's prophetic toes.  Mrs. 
Mass if it be so, i shall save him two pence a year, rather than put him to the charges of an Alman●…ck. But was there any more?  Car. 
Yes there were many Country-lobs, that having surfeited on the glory-bacon of their milkmaids favours, were fain to repair to the next Alehouse for purgations. Deaf Scriveners came for their cares; silenced Ministers to be cured of dumbness; many scholars of colleges, whose gowns having been sick divers years of the scu●…f, desired the god to do them the grace as to change the colour of that disease into the black-jaundice.  Mrs. 
And did he cure them all?  Car. 
All but Neoclides; a blind fellow, and yet such an arrant thief, that he sto●…e all things he set his eyes on. To proceed: the Monk put out the ●…allow-tapers, bid us sleep, and whatsoever hissing we heard, to see and say nothing. There we slept soundly, and in the honour of Esculapius snorted most devoutly. Marry i could not sleep: for there was an old woman with a pitcher of pease-porridge at her head lay next to me. Now I had a great zeal to devour the delicious pillow: but putting forth my hand, I espi●…d the bald Friar eating the religious cakes, and cracking of the consecrate nuts. So I thinking it a piece of divine charity, studied how to cheat the old Beldame.  Mrs. 
O sacrilegious Varlet! wert not afraid of the god?  Car. 
Yes, lest he might cozen me of my pease-porridge. The woman perceiving me put forth her hand: then I fell a-hissing like a Winchester-goose on S. George's dragon; the woman snatched back her fangs, and for very fear smelled like the perfume of a Polecat: in the interim I supped up the porridge; and my belly being full, I laid my bones to rest.  Mrs. 
And did not the god come yet?  Car. 
O Mistress, now comes the jest: when the god came near me, my devotions a posteriori sent him forth most ridiculous orisons; the Pease-broth in me was so windy that I thought I had an Aeolus in my belly; my guts wambled, and on the sudden evaporated a clap or two of most unmannerly thunder, the very noise of it broke all the Urinals in the Spittle-house, and saved Esculapius the labour of casting Jupiter's water; it frighted his poor Apothecary out of his wits, as he was making Saturn a glister 〈◊〉 and for the smell, Penacea▪ told her father that she was sure it could not be frankincense.  Mrs. 
Yes, but was not the god angry that you kept your backside no closer?  Car. 
Who he! 'Tis such a nasty Numen, he would be glad if your close-stool were his alms-tub, that he might feed upon your meat at second hand.  Mrs. 
Nay, but leave your windy discourse, and proceed with your tale.  Car. 
At length two snakes appeared, and licked Plutus eyes: then Aesculapius beating Aigus his head in a mortar, tempered it with a look beyond Luther, well minced with the roasted apple of his eye: the whole confection boiled in a pint of crystalline humour, which being dropped into his eye with the feather of a peacock's tail, he recovered his sight in the twinkling of an eye.  Mrs. 
But how came the god of wealth blind?  Car. 
How! Because Honesty is like a puckfist; he never met it but once, and it put out his eyes: besides, the rich Rogue had too many Pearls in his eyes.  Mrs. 
And what are we the better now his eyesight is restored?  Car. 
Why thus: None but honest people shall grow rich now; there's the wonder: my master Chremylus shall be an Earl, and you from the Cream-pot of Rusticity shall be churned into the honourable Butter of a Countess.  Mrs. 
Nay, they were wont to call me Countess before: and I shall do well enough for a Countess, I warrant you. I thank my stars, I can spin as fine a thread for woollen, as any Countess in England. Well carrion, now I am a Countess, Mrs. Ficar shall not sit above me in the Church; I will have as fine a stammel-Petticoat and rich Stomacher as the proudest of them all. Pi●…thee Carion go to the Goldsmith, buy me a ring, and see it be well enamoured.  Car. 
You would say enameled. But Mrs. what will you do now?  Mrs. 
I will go in to present the gods new Eyes with a basket of Pippins and a dozen of Churchwardens.  Exeunt ambo. Enter Plutus, Chremylus. Plut. 

Good morrow to the morn next to my gold:  
First bright Apollo, I salute thy rays,  
And next the earth▪ Minerva's sacred land.  
Truly 〈◊〉 soil, Athenian city.  
How my soul blushes, and with grief remembers  
My miserable blindness! wretched Plutus,  
Whose hoodwinked ignorance made thy guilty feet  
Stumble into the company of Rascals,  
Informers, Sequestrators, Pettifoggers,  
Grave 〈◊〉, Sycophants and unconscionable Coridon's,  
And Citizens whose false Conscience weighed too light  
In their own seals, claimed by a principal Charter  
The Cornucopia proper to themselves.  
When good just men, such as did venture lives  
For country's safety and the Nations honour,  
Were paid with their own wounds, and made those scars  
Which were accounted once the marks of honour,  
The miserable privilege of begging,  
Scarce to have lodging in an Hospital.  
And those whose labors suffer nightly throes  
To give their teeming brains deliverance  
To enrich the land with learned merchandise  
The sacred traffic of the soul, rich wisdom:  
Starve in their studies, and like moths devour  
The very leaves they read, scorned of the Vulgar,  
Nay, of the better sort too many times,  
As if their knowledge were but learned wickedness,  
And every Smug could preach aswell as they:  
Nay, as if men were worse for Academies.  
But all shall be amended. I could tell  
A tale of horror, and unmask foul actions;  
Black as the night they were committed in.  
I could unfold a Lerna, and with proofs  
As clear as this dear light, could testify  
How I unwilling kept them company.   Chre. 

O heaven forbid! what wicked things are these?  
Yet such there be, that ●…lock into my company,  
In swarms as if they would d●…voure me quick,  
That throng so fast, as if they'd crowed my soul  
Out of her house of clay: while every man  
Employs his supple hams, and oily tongue  
To feigned compliments and importunate service.  
I could not walk th' Exchange to day, but straight  
Each head was bare, every officious knee  
Bowed to my honour, and enquired my health;  
And which is more intolerable, snow-whiteheads,  
Whose every hair seemed died in innocence.  
With that one leg which was not yet i'th' grave,  
Crouched like so many Tapsters. These springtide friends,  
These swarming Flies, bred by the summer's heat;  
Should but adversities black cloud appear,  
With lowering looks, theatning a winter's storm,  
Farewell my summer's swallow: these are friends  
To Cremylus' cupboard, and affect I see  
My Oysters and my Puddings, 'tis not me.   Exit. Enter Mrs. Cremylus. Mrs. 
Marry gods blessing o'th' thy soul! Now a hundred good morrows to thy eyes. I have brought the a dish of Pearmains and Pippins, with a dish of Lordings and Ladyapples, and some of our country fruit, half a score of Russetings.  Plut. 

O 'tis unfit, my eyesight being restored,  
To accept a kindness till I have bestowed one.   Mrs. 
Marry and muff! I can be as stout as you if i please. Do you scorn my kindness?  Plut. 

Apples and Nuts, we'll eat 'em by the fire,  
Where the rude audience shall not laugh at us:  
'Twere an absurdity in a comic Poet  
To make a musse of sweetmeats on the Stage,  
Throwing a handful of ridiculous Nuts  
To catch the popular breath and ignorant praise  
Of preaching cobblers, Carmen, Tinkers, tailors.   Mrs. 
Nay, 'tis even true, the good old Gentleman speaks very wisely; you may believe him, if you please. I'll be sworn, this morning, the lay-clergy, while they were a preaching at Bell-ally in Colemanstreet, I came by with my basket; the hungry Rascals in pure zeal had like to eat up my gingerbread, had there not been Popish pictures upon it; I had much ado to keep them from scrambling my Apples too, had not the sets of my old ruff looked like so many Organ-Pipes and frighted them. But faith rakehells,( and you mend not your manners) 〈◊〉 complain to Mr. Goodwin and the 'mittees too. Come in good Gentleman, though I have never a tooth in my head, yet i'll crack Nuts with my gums but i'll bear thee company.  Exeunt ambo.  
Finis Actus Tertii.   

Act 4.  

Scaen. 1.  Charon Solus. Ca. 
To be rich is the daintiest pleasure in the world; especially, to grow rich without venturing the danger of Tyburn or Whipping. Every cupboard is full of Custards, the Hogsheads replenished with sparkling Sacks. The veriest Gippo in the house will not drink a degree under Muscadine. All the Porredgepots are arrant Barbary gold. All the Vessels in the house, from the basin and Ewer to the Chamber-pot and Vinegar-bottle, are of Middleton's silver. The Kitchen and Buttery is entire Ivory, the very purity of the elephant's tooth. The sink is paved with the rich Rubies, and incomparable Carbuncles of Sir John Oldcastle's Nose. The Conduit runs as good Rose-water as any is in Aristotle's Well. The dishclouts are clothe of Tissue, and from the skirts of every Scullion drop melting streams of Amber grease. We the poor servants play at Even and Odd with arch-angels, and at cross and Pile for Jacobuses, in a humour, to out Philip the King of Spain. My Master is sacrificing a Sow, a Goat, and a Ram for joy; But i could not endure the house, there is such a smoke from the reek of the roast, that though it please my stomach, my eyes are offended with it.  Enter goggle and his Boy carrying his Shoes and cloak. Gog. 

Boy follow me, for i have a zeal to be rich;  
My devotion leads me in the righteous path  
To Plutus god of wealth. Profane poverty  
Is a Carthusian, and a grand delinquent,  
One o'th' malignant party up in arms  
Against the well-affected.   Car. 
Say Brother, who are you, whose righteous Shoes conduct you hither?  Gog. 

Ananias▪ goggle, verily.  
A devout Brother, that hath oft been plundered  
By wicked persecution: but last night  
My dreaming spirit f●…retold i should be rich  
And happy made by Revelation.   Ca. 

goggle, or Cogle, a Geneva brother  
Of sanctified snuffling, a pure Elder  
Oth' precise cut, or else past Ordinances.   Gog. 

No, but a zealous Saint of Amsterdam,  
Whose Nose is forward to promote the cause;  
Crosses are Romish Jdols, yet misfortune  
Has put so many dismal Crosses on me,  
Till every cross was spent, and sent away  
On superstitious Pilgrimages: fie upon't,  
That zeal and ignorance should be convertible.   Car. 

What would you have, dear brother? for i think  
I have heard you Exercise at Bell-alley.   Gog. 

'Tis true, but yet  
I come to Plutus Conventicle now.  
'Tis he can cure my troubles, he brings joy  
To the fraternity of Amsterdam,  
To the Geneva brotherhood, and the Saints  
Whose pure devotions feed on Bunbury Cakes:  
He can restore my wealth, give me abundance  
Of holy Gold and Silver purified,  
Jncrease my talents spent upon the Sisters,  
That i may thrive again as did my father  
That reverent Saint goggle, Patience Hypomo●…e  
A holy tailor and a venerable Parson.   Ca. 
Say Brother, may a tailor be a Parson?  Gog. 

'Tis very fit: For first, his sacred Parchment  
Can take the measure of Religion;  
And from the Cloth of a good Conscience  
Make up a Suit for honest Conversation:  
Sewed with the thread of goodness, stitched i'th' Seams  
With twisted Silk of Piety and Innocence▪  
Lined with good Thoughts and charitable Actions:  
The sacred shreds and snips of holy Carsey  
May chance to mend the Garments of the Righteous,  
If Satan come to rend their guiltless robes.   Car. 

But were you not in miserable condition,  
Before that Plutus came to speak amongst you?  
He speaks with golden eloquence, believe't:  
For now your zealous bags are full again  
With holy silver, and good Brotherly gold;  
You cannot fall to desperation,  
Having so many Angels to defend you.   Gog. 

Yea certes: therefore now I find god Plutus  
Has made me Collector of his contributions.  
I must needs thrive, therefore I take occasion  
To give the god the greatest gratulation.   Car. 

But tell me, zealous brother, why doth that boy  
Carry that saintlike Cloak, and upright shoes?   Gog. 

Cloaks are for Saints; they preach in Cloaks all now:  
Gowns are all Popes: no Sermons without Cloaks.  
This holy Cloak and I these thirteen years  
Have freezed together, and these upright Shoes;  
Not upright once, till their ungodly soles  
That always went awry, were rightly mended  
By a religious conscionable cobbler,  
With Leather liquored in most zealous tears.  
These shoes, I say, ten winters and three more  
Have traced the Conventicles of the Brethr●…n.  
These shoo●…s, this Cloak i come to dedicate  
To Plutus, in requital of h●…s kindness.   Car. 
What, your shoes come for Consecration?  Gog. 

Now fie upon your Popish Consecration!  
This Cloak is not a rag of Babylon.  
I offer these as Presents: this same is  
A well-affected Cloak; and zealous shoes,  
Never profaned with irreligious toes.  
Such precious gifts they are, such devout presents,  
He cannot but accept them verily.   Enter Never-good. Nev. 

O hone a cree o hone!  
My empty purse and belly weep for sorrow,  
And every string and gut pours lamentations.  
I was a Sequestrator once, and used  
To find occasions of delinquency  
Committed against the State, like a promoter.  
But now my guts have sequestered my belly,  
And let it out to others. Wretched state  
Of them that die in famine! But in me  
Jerusalem's dearth is here epitomised.   Car. 
Garret Ostle-bridge was down, welladay, welladay.  Nev. 

As I was wont to inform against Malignants,  
So now my guts give informations  
Against my teeth and stomach. Wretched ne'er-be-good!  
I now must pine and starve at pennyless-bench,  
Who starved Orphans and delinquent Prisoners,  
Like a Committees Marshal. Now I see  
What 'tis to want a little honesty.  
Oh that the Philosophers truly had defined  
The Moon green-chief! I would desire the man  
That dwells in such a blessed habitation,  
To roast me one poor piece before I die,  
That for my Epitaph men might write this Note,  
Our Sequestrator had a welsh-mans' throat.   Gog. 

Now verily I find by revelation,  
This is a Varlet of no honest fashion;  
Who because he had no honest occupation,  
Is fallen into most wretched tribulation.   Nev. 

O hunger, hunger! Now good sky fall quickly,  
Or i shall die ere it rain Larks. Who could  
Endure to have his goods confiscate thus  
By the blind puppy Plutus! well, young Cerberus,  
I'll hire the Furies to pull out thy eyes,  
And once more put thee to the trade of stumbling.   Ca. 

This is a Rascal deserves to ride up Holborn,  
And take a pilgrimage to the triple-tree,  
To dance in Hemp Derricks Caranto:  
Let's choke him with Welsh Parsley.   Nev. 

Good friend be merciful, choke me with Puddings and a Rope of Sausages,  
And I will thank you here and after death;  
For I shall die I fear for want of choking.  
Where is the god that promised golden mountains  
T'enrich us all: is this the gold he gives me?  
He has not left me coin enough to purchase  
A mess of Portage, like my brother Esau.  
Empson and Dudley, happy were you two  
Being the prime Sequestrators of your age,  
That you were hanged before this day of famine.  
I pine and starve, live to outlive myself,  
Turn Ghost before i die. Blind fornicator  
Plutus hath sequestered the Sequestrator.   Gog. 
I tell thee out of zeal to th' Cause thou liest.  Nev. 

So my good zealous Brother of ignorance,  
And what says your Amsterdam Nose? you think  
That every man turns Factor for the devil,  
A Reprobate, that comes not every night  
To hear your fine reformed basketmaker  
Preach in his Wicker Pulpit: you shall not think  
To have my money thus, you shall not think it.  
Prate any longer here, mutter again,  
And i will make thy pretty Brotherly soul  
Come snuffling through thy sanctified nostrils.   Ca. 
Nevergood, i know was always fierce  Nev. 

Yes indeed sir, for now my Panch is empty;  
J'd have you know, i have an excellent stomach.   Ca. 

I will do what i can to make this flesh  
To have a Combat with this furious spirit.  
Ananias goggle, do you see this heretic  
●…ow he triumphs against the Lay-preaching brotherhood?  
Go to him man, and beat him.   Gog. 

'Tis a strong Reprobate. He would sequester me  
Were i not for the Cause. I will not touch him▪  
He will defile my purest hands; he is  
A lump of vile corruption. Breathe th' other way;  
Thy very breath's infectious, and it smells  
As if thou hadst caught the Pox of the Whore of Babylon.   Nev. 
So sir, you dare not fight.  Gog. 

I will not fight. It is thy policy to have me fight,  
That i might kill thee, and pollute my hands  
With swinish blood. No, no, i will not fight  
To make myself unsanctified.  
I will dispute with thee, Nose against nose,  
And valiantly i dare to snuffle with thee,  
In the defence of silver-purified.   Nev. 

Would Plutus had no better Champion to defend him!  
Then such as only snuffle in the Cause.  
I would presume by my own proper valour  
To make a breach into the strongest Cupboard,  
Were it as strong as Basing-house or Bristol.   Gog. 

Avant thou Synagog of iniquity,  
I see thou art o'th' Popish tribe: Necessity  
Does make thy Guts take Purgatory penance,  
Brings thee to shrift and shift, makes thy teeth observe  
Unconscionable Fridays, profane fasting-days,  
With Lent and Antichristian Emberweeks.   Nev. 

'tis much against my conscience, my devotion  
Lies toward the Kitchen. If i change my faith,  
I will turn fat Presbyter or Anabaptist.  
I never loved this heresy of fasting,  
Plutus has put me out of Commons. Yet my Nose  
Smells the delicious odour of Roast-beef.   Ca. 
What dost thou smell?  Nev. 
I say, i smell some Cavaliers Roast-beef.  Ca. 

Out on thee Varlet, i warrant thou'dst fain sequester it.  
If the despair of dining vex thee thus,  
I can acquaint thee with a liberal Duke  
That keeps an open house.   Nev. 

I charge thee by the love thou bearest thy stomach,  
By all the happiness of eating puddings,  
And every Pie thou meanest to eat at Christmas, To tell me who—   Gog. 

Now out upon thee for a roguish heretic!  
●…is not a Christmas, 'tis a Nativity Pie.  
That superstitious name, i know, is banished  
Out of all England, Holley and ivy too.   Ca. 

Why? go to Paul's, Duke Humphrey wants a guest;  
If his Rooms now be clean from soldier's Horse-dung,  
There you may stay and walk your bellyful:  
Bid yourself welcome, never pay your Ordinary,  
Nor say no Grace, but thank yourself for hunger.   Nev. 

O misery of men, that i the health  
And lover of my Country should thus pine  
And die for want of porridge! See you Chimney,  
What sweet perfumes, what comfortable smoke  
It breathes; that very smoke doth smell of Mutton.  
Well, i shall die, and all the Worms will curse me  
For bringing so lean a carcase to the grave.   Gog. 
Answer to me.  Nev. 
What, to those narrow Breeches?  Gog. 

Do not profane my Breeches. For these Breeches  
I tell thee were in fashion in the Primitive Church.  
Answer to me.   Nev. 
What will you Catechise me?  Gog. 
Art thou a Farmer?  Nev. 

No, heaven forbid, i am not mad,  
To live ●…y Dung and Horse-turds.   Gog. 
Art thou a Merchant?  Nev. 

In-faith i can walk the Exchange,  
Put on an Indian face, spit China fashion,  
Discourse of new-found world's, call Drake a Gander,  
Ask if they hear news of my Fleet of Ships  
That sailed by land through Spain to the Antipodes  
To fetch Westphalia Bacon. I can discourse  
Of shorter ways to th●…Indies, spend my judgement  
On the plantation of the Summer Isles.  
Censure Guiana Voyage, deam of plots,  
To bring A●…gier by shipping unto Dover.  
Then of Prince Rupert's ships, and how the Pope  
May make St. Dunstan draw the Devil to th' Peak,  
To make him kiss his own Breech.  
This can i talk with Merchants, in the close  
Invite myself to Dinner at their houses,  
And borrow money ne'er to be repaid  
Till the return of my silver Fleet from Persia.   Gog. 

Now fie upon thee, hast thou no vocation,  
No honest calling? then art thou not a Lawyer?   Nev. 

No faith, i am not; yet know a trick  
To bring my neighbours into needless suits,  
And undertake their actions: make 'em pay  
For such a motion at the dogshead ●…avern  
A mark or two; disburse a piece or two  
For Affulavits at the Mitre: sell 'em  
For twenty shillings an Injunction,  
Writs of Rebellion, Chancery Decrees,  
A Nisi prius, or a Latitat.   Car. 
Poor souls, they have very hard words for their money.  Nev. 

When this is done, I sit and laugh at them:  
Then they may buy a Writ of Execution  
And go and hang themselves. For i feed on them  
All the Term long, live with them in Va●…ation,  
Cheating them by bills of Return.   Gog. 
Vile Rascal, hast thou no other shift?  Nev. 

Faith yes, sometimes  
I feed on One and twenties, cheat young Heirs,  
Bringing them acquainted with some cozening Scrivener,  
To ease them of the burden of too much earth.  
Sometimes I woo old widows, go a sui●…ring▪  
Unto the thirds of an alderman's estate▪  
Sometimes prick up myself & grow familiar  
With the proud wealthy Citizens wanton wives,  
And by the fortitude of my back maintain  
Both back and belly.   Gog. 

O sink of sin, and boggards of corruption!  
Hast thou no honest calling?   Nev. 

Yes i have: i know a trick to snuffle at Bell-Ally,  
Rail at the Steeple-houses, and the Popish Bishops,  
And the Tithe-scraping Priests, Sir-John-Presbyters.   Gog. 

Out on thee Villain, foe to the holy Cassocks.  
I do remember thee in the Archbishop's time,  
Thou madest me stand i'th' Popish pillory  
With Prin and Bur●…on, only for speaking  
A little sanctified treason.   Car. 

But we will be revenged; we'll have him dragged  
Through all the town by Alewives, and then hanged up  
Upon a signpost, for conspiring with  
Sir Giles Mompessons, in the persecution  
Of innocent Tapsters.   Gog. 

Come, seeing he has no zeal nor ardent love,  
Let's strip him naked, till he freeze & grow  
As cold as Charity.   Nev. 

What will you plunder me? where's your warrant Ho?  
Do, sanctified thieves, plunder: yet i shall live  
To see my little Anabaptist come  
To his twelve Godfathers, thence to the Ladder;  
Where having nosed a tedious Psalm or two  
The holy hemp must gird your sanctified windpipe,  
While you in honour of the righteous cause  
With a wry-mouth salute the souls at Paddington,  
And turn a Tyburn-Saint.   Gog. 

Pull off his profane and irreligious Doublet,  
Anathematise his Breeches, excommunicate  
His impious Shirt: there's not a rag about him,  
But is heretical, full of Babylon lice,  
Like the foul sinock of Austria.   Nev. 

So, do it if you dare: that i may live  
To see your fine precise Geneva-Breeches  
Hang in the hangman's wardrobe. Ho bear witness.   Car. 

Nay faith your witness is not here: a Mandrake  
Has frighted him: the hue and cry was up  
'Twas time to trust the safety of his neck  
Unto the swiftness of his heels. Come, come,  
Uncase. So now Ananias goggle  
Lend me your cloak to cloak this Sycophant.   Gog. 

My cloak! his Romish carcase shall not be arrayed  
In these pure innocent robes: shall any bastards  
Of the vile generation of Pope Joan  
Defile my cloak, that has these thirteen years  
Wiped my belovep nose, whose very snot  
Is reverenct by the brethren? No, he may bring  
These garments to the mass, profane uni there,  
And make my cloak a reprobate, and commit  
Adultery with the seven hills: besides,  
He is an Idol; and I verily think  
It were idolatry to let this cloak  
Embrace a Pagan. No, good cloak, ne'er turn  
Apostate from the faith of Amsterdam.  
Good cloak, be not akin to Julian's jerkin:  
Though thou be threadbare, thou shalt ne'er be turned;  
No, no, 'tis fitter Plutus have thee.   Car. 

No, Plutus shall have this, '●is fresh and new:  
Your cloak is threadbare; your too fervent zeal  
Has almost made it tinder.   Gog. 

What, Plutus have his cloak! Oh 'tis the skin  
Of a pernicious snake. O Popery!  
A profane Cope, or the Levitical smock,  
I mean a surplice, is not more unlawful.   Car. 

As it is now: But wipe your nose on't thrice,  
'Tis sanctified; you know the brotherly snot  
Has enthusiastic operations in't.   Gog. 

I am persuaded. Let him have it then.  
But what shall be decreed of my upright shoes?   Car. 

we'll hang them on his head. How his Brow-antlets  
Become their furniture! By S. Hugh's bones,  
He looks like the very ghost of a shoemaker's shop.   Gog. 

O swear not by St. Hugh, that canonised cobbler.  
Come holy brother, let us drag him hence.   Nev. 

Do, Scundrels, do: but if I once come a fequestring,  
I'll go to Dr. Faustus, true son and heir  
To Belzebub, whom the great Devil begot  
Upon a Succubus, on Midsummer Eve,  
As Hell was sowing Fernseed. This D. Faustus  
The Mepiastophoius of his age, the wonder  
And the sole Asmodaeus of his times,  
Shall by his necromantic skill( Fortune my foe)  
In the Black-art lend me his Termagant,  
Old Almegroth, o●…Cantimelopus,  
Or some Familiar else an hour or two.  
Thence I'll to Phlegeton, and with him drink  
A cup of hell's ●…lapdragon, and returning  
Spew fire and 〈◊〉 into Plutus face,  
To roast the rottch apple●… of his eyes  
With Srygian flames that I revomitize.   Exit Nev. Gog. 

We fear not Dr. Faustus: his Landlord Luciferd  
Says that his Lease with him is out of date;  
Nor will he let him longer tenant be  
To the twelve Houses of astrology.   Car. 
Let Dr. Faustus do his worst. Let me see if this Termagant can help you to your Clothes again.  Enter Anus. Car. 
But stay, what worm-eaten Hag is this? Holy brother, let's away to Bo-peep, we shall be seen else. Do you not perceive that old Beldame of Lapland, that looks as if she had sailed thither in an eggshell, with a wind in the corner of her handkerchief? I am not so much afraid of Dr. Faustus, as of that witch of Endor.  Exeunt goggle, carrion.  

Act. 4. Scaen. 3.  Anus sola. An. 
hay ho! methinks I am sick with lying alone last night. Well, I will scratch out the eyes of this same rascally Plutus god of wealth, that has undone me. Alas poor woman! since the shop of Plutus his eyes has been open, what abundance of misery has befallen thee! Now the young Gallant will no longer kiss thee nor embrace thee: but thou poor widow must lie comfortless in a solitary pair of sheets, having nothing to cover thee but the lecherous Rug and the bawdy Blankets. O that i were young again! how it comforts me to remember the death of my maidenhead! Alas poor woman, they contemn old age, as if our lechery was out of date. They say we are cold: methinks that thought should make 'em take compassion of us, and lie with us, if not for love, for charity. They say we are dry: so much the more capable of Cupid's fire; while young wenches, like green wood, smoke before they flame. They say we are old: why then experience makes us more expert. They tell us our lips are wrinkled: why that in kissing makes the sweeter titillation. They swear we have no teeth: why then they need not fear biting. Well, if our lease of Lechery be out, yet methinks we might purchase a nightlabourer for his dayes-wages. I will be revenged of this same Plutus, that wrongs the orphans, and is so uncharitable to the widows. Ho, ho, who's within here!  Enter Scrape-all. Scrap. 
who's there?  An. 
A maid against her will this fourscore years. Goddy-godden, good father: pray which is the house where Plutus lives?  S●…rap. 
Ma●…ry follow your nose, you may smell out the door, my little damsel of fifteen, but fifteen times over. In my pinion, this young lass would make a pretty Maidmairian in a Comedy to be presented before Plutus.  An. 
Now god save all. By your leave sweet Grandsire! I will call forth some of the house.  Scrap. 
What need that? cannot i serve the turn?  An. 
No marry can you not. Nay, as old as i am, i will not bestow my widow's maidenhead at second hand on such a frosty Nestor. i will have March or April; i scorn to commit fornication with December.  Scrap. 
Nay good Autunme, do not misconceive me: i asked if i could not bear in your errand or no. But i see master Chremylus coming.  Enter Chremylus. An. 
Alas good sir! I have endured the most unjust and unsufferable injuries, since Plutus has regained his eyesight, as ever poor woman did since the days of Queen Edmund. Alas sir, life is not life without natural recreation.  Chr. 
How's this? some promoter of the feminine gender!  An. 
No by my chastity, but an honest matron of Turn-bull, that have paid scot and lot there these fourscore years, yet never was so abused as now.  Chr. 
What abuse?  An. 
Unsufferable abuse, intolerable injuries.  Chr. 
Speak, what injuries?  An. 
An injury unspeakable.  Chr. 
What is it?  An. 
Alas sir, 'tis lying alone. O the misery of lying alone! would i had been below ground ere i had seen this minute of adversity. Ah Turnbul-Grove, shall i never more be beholding to thy charitable shades! Ah 'twas a good world when the nunneries stood: Oh their charitable thoughts that took so much compassion on poor women, to found such zealous bawdy-houses! Had not Cromwell been an Eunuch, he had never persuaded the destruction of such places set up for such uses. 'Twas a good world too in the days of Queen Mary: a poor woman might have desired a kindness from a lusty Friar in auricular confession. But Plutus eyes are like Basilis●…s, they strike us dead with adversity.  Chr. 
What ails this skinful of Lechery? alas poor Granam, dost thou grieve because thou wantest money to go drink with thy gossips!  An: 
Ah do not mock me sir: 'tis love, perilous love that has so inflamed my heart with Bavins of desire, that i am afraid he will make me the very bonfire of affection.  Chr. 
What meant the knavish Cupid to set this old Chark-coal on fire?  An. 
I'll tell you sir: there was a young Gallant about the town, one Neanias.  Chr. 
I know him.  An. 
He being a younger brother, had no lands in tail-tenure, but City-widows. He was but poor; but as fine a well-favoured Gentleman, it did me good at heart to look on him. I ministered those things he wanted; and he recompensed my kindness in mutual love: as I supplied his wants, so he succoured my necessities with all possible activity: I would not have changed him for Stamford, though he jumped the best in London.  Chr. 
And what did this pretty Pimp usually beg of you?  An. 
Not much: for he reverenced me wonderfully, partly for love, but more fo●… venerable antiquity. Sometime he would beg a Cloak.  Chr. 
To cover his knavery.  An. 
Sometimes a pair of Boots.  Chr. 
To exercise his horsemanship.  An. 
Sometimes a Peck or two of Corn.  Chr. 
For which he paid a bushel of affection.  An. 
Now and then a Kittle for his sister, a Petticoat and French-hood for his mother. Not much: all the good turns I did him in the day, the conscionable Youth requited ere midnight.  Ch. 
This was nothing indeed: it seems he did reverence you,( as you say) partly for love, but more for your venerable antiquity.  An. 
Nay, he would tell me too, that he did not ask these things for his midnight wages, but only in love. He would not endure to wear any thing, but what I paid for, out of a mee●… desire to remember me.  Chre. 
This was infinite affection! Could he not endure to wear anything but what you paid for? 'Twas dear love this, pretty love tricks in-faith; you may see, how the wanton youth was inflamed with your beauty.  An. 
I but now, the unconstant Wag has not the same measure of respect; I sent him a Custard yesterday, and he would not accept of it, because it quaked like my worm-eaten—. I sent him other sweetmeats too, but he returned me answer, that certainly i had breathed on them, for they smelled of my Gums. Moreover, he bid me despair of a nightlabourer, and never more expect him at midnight again. For Plutus has made him rich without me; adding withal, That once i was young: Ostend was once a pretty town. The Milesians in the days of yore were valiant: and in the days of King Henry the English were sturdy fellows at the battle of Agin-Court.  Chre. 
Faith, i commend the stripling for his wit. 'tis none of the worst conditions. Now he is rich, he will have the best and plumpest Cockatrice of the City; when he was poor he was content with porridge. There be many of that profession, that maintain themselves by hugging the skin and bones of an alderman's widow.  An. 
Ay, but erst, he would have come everyday to my door.  Chre. 
Perchance a begging.  An. 
No, only to hear the melody of my voice.  Chre. 
Like enough, it could not choose but please him to hear what excellent music your Jews-trump could make, now all your teeth are out.  An. 
If he had but seen me sad and melancholy, he would have kissed me with such a feeling of my sorrow, and have called me his Chuck and Helena.  Cre. 
'Twas only to have one of Leda's eggs to his Supper.  An. 
How oft has he praised my fingers?  Chr. 
'Twas when he looked for something at your hands.  An. 
Many a time has he sworn that my skin smelled sweeter than a Musk-cat.  Chr. 
He meant a Po●…e-cat: did you not believe him? 'twas when his Nose first smelled of Hippocrasse, or else the perfume of your white-leather was so strong, he could not endure it.  An. 
O how it comforts me to remember how he would call my eyes pretty sparkling ones.  Chr. 
'Twas cause they pinked like the snuff of a Candle. Faith the Gentleman had his wits about him: he knew how to get the old wife's provision, the Viaticum she had prepared to carry her to Gravesend.  An. 
Therefore, my friend, Plutus is to blame to promise relief, when he does us such intolerable damages. How do you think i can endure to lie alone, when so many sprights are walking? How shall i keep off the nightmare, or defend myself against the temptations of an Incubus.  Chre. 
Alas good relic of antiquity! pay thy Fine and take a new Lease of Lust. Faith i pity thee; what wouldst thou have him do if he were here?  An. 
Marry, that since i have deserved so well of him, that he do me one kindness for another. Good old Gentlemen, either let him restore me my goods, or stand to his bargain. The Conditions not performed, the Obligation is of none effect: my Lawyer resolves me, i may recover of him.  Chr. 
Noverint universi per praesentes, your Lawyer is a Coxcomb. Did he not do his duty every night? I warrant you, he had as lief have tugged at an oar as a—. In my mind, he has performed his part of the Obligation.  An. 
But he promised never to forsake me as long as i lived.  Chre. 
No more he has not; why? thou art now dead: Thy flesh is mortified, only thy impotent lust has outlived thee a twelve month or two. Thou art but a mere carcase, nothing but wormsmeat.  An. 
Indeed grief has almost me't●…d me into dust and ashes. Half-putrified i walk up and down like the picture of Deaths-head in a charnel-house. But see yonder's my Gamester, my Cock o'th' game: he's marching to some banquet or other: 'tis Sh●…ove-Tuesday with him, but Lent with me. O grief, to be bound from flesh!  Chr. 
It seems he is going to a feast, by his torch and garland.  Enter Neanias. Nea. 

I'll kiss the old Hag no more,  
She has no moisture in her:  
If ever I lie with a lass ere I die,  
It shall be a youthful sinner.   

Give me a lass that is young,  
I ask no greater blessing:  
I'll ne'er lie again with Fourscore and ten,  
A carcase not worth the pressing.   

I will not embrace her again,  
To set the Town on a scoffing:  
I'll never make more Death-widdow a Whore,  
And cuckold the innocent Coffin.   

Who's this? Good morrow Venus, O good morrow  
Old Duck, old Helen! Tell me, sweet Helen,  
How hast thou done this three thousa●…d year young Pullet!  
How hast thou done e'er since the wars of Troy?  
Has the Cuckold Menelaus cast his 〈◊〉?  
But what old goat is this? 'tis Agam●…mnon.  
You Agam●…mnon, is your 〈◊〉  
As old as Helen? Tell me, old Helen, tell me,  
When do the lecherous worms and thee begin  
To act adultery in the winding-sheets?   An. 
What says my Duck; wouldst have me go to bed?  Nea. 

What, my old Sweetheart! How comest thou grey so soon?  
Thou canst not be so grey; i will not suffer't,  
I will not be deceived, i will pull off  
Thy cozening periwig.   An. 
So sir: i was not grey when i gave you my Smock off my back to make you nightcaps. You swore i could not be above fifteen, when I translated my Stammel-Petticoat into the masculine gender, to make your Worship a pair of Scarletbreeches.  Nea. 

I shall never abide an almanac while I live:  
The Julian Account's an ar●…ant coxcomb;  
But the Bissextile is an arrant Villain.  
I will curse every Bissextile in the County of Europe.  
Tho●… couldst not possibly be grey so soon,  
Except a hundred Leap-years had conspired  
To jump together, to make thee old o'th' sudden.   Chr. 

He talks as if he had not seen you since the Conquest:  
How many Jubilees past since he was last with you?   An. 
Now fie upon him! How long do you say? 'Tis no longer than yesterday, by the faith of a woman, since he had the fruition of me, and swore i was as young as Hecuba.  Chr. 
Then it is not with him as it is with others: for being drunk, he hath the use of his eyes more perfect than when he was sober.  An. 
No, the peevish fellow, now he is drunk, he sees double, and thinks me twice as old as i am.  Nea. 

O Neptune, and the other graybearded gods,  
Can you with all the arithmetic of heaven  
Number the wrinkles of this Beldames forehead?  
These many ru●…s and furrows in thy cheek  
Proves thy old face to be but Champion-ground,  
Tilled with the plough of age, well muckt with sluttery:  
'tis time for thy lust to li●… sallow now.  
Can any man endure to spend his youth  
In kissing winter's frozen lips? can veins  
That swell with active blood, endure th' embraces  
Of such cold ice? Go and prepare thy coffin,  
Think on thy winding-sheet. When I was poor,  
Cold limbs and empty guts persuaded me  
To lie with skin and bones. Necessity,  
As cruel as Mezentius tyranny,  
Made me commit adultery with a carcase,  
A putrified corpse, a Bawd o'th' Charnel-house.  
But now good dust and ashes, pardon me,  
These arms shall never more embrace thy corpse.  
Thou stews of clay, thou mudwall of mortality,  
Go rot and moulder; and if thy impotent lust  
Must needs be satisfied, know Hell is a hothouse,  
Perchance some hot-reined devil may undertake thee;  
I'll lend a halfpenny to pay Charon's boat-hire.  
No, I will now choose me a good plump Lass,  
As moist as April, and as hot as May,  
Whose Damask-check shall make the Roses blush,  
Whose lips at every kiss shall strike a heat  
Into my veins, breathing through all my soul  
An air as warm and sweet as the perfumes  
That smoking rise from the dead Phoenix nest.   

Now come my boon Companions,  
And let us jovial be:  
Thouh th' Indies be the King of Spain's,  
We are as rich as he.   

As rich as any King of Spain,  
In mirth, if not in wealth:  
Boy fill me then a bowl of Sack,  
I'll drink my Mistress health.   

My Mistress is but fifteen,  
Her Lips is all my bliss:  
Go tell her I will come at night,  
And then prepare to kiss.   

You my she- 〈◊〉 may go s●…ort the while,  
Or kiss your monkey. I will take my torch,  
Set her on fire, and let her smoke to Acheron.   An. 
O fire, fire! shall I die no better a death than the top of Paul's-steeple?  Chr. 
Nay take heed how you set your torch too near her; One spark will set her a-flaming, for she is made up of Salt-petre, very gunpowder well dried & ready pruned, mee●… touchwood, and as dry as any tavernbush.  Nea. 

'Tis true, she'll quickly take; the fire of lust  
Has 〈◊〉 her into tinder, some of hell's brimstone,  
But to make matches, and she e'll fit the Devil  
For a whole tinderbox. Come my dainty Girl,  
Let us be friends; why should we two fall out?  
Sweet be not angry, I do love thee better  
Than water-gruel: Come, let's play together.   An. 
Now blessing on thy heart! What play shall we play, that which we played at tother night?  Nea. 
Here, take these Nuts.  An. 
Alas my honey, I am past cracking.  Nea. 
They are to play with.  An. 
What play?  Nea. 
Even or odd, guess you.  An. 
What shall I guess?  Nea. 
How many teeth there be in thy head.  Chr. 
I'll guess for her; perchance three or four.  Nea. 

Then you have l●…st, pay your nuts: she has but one,  
An o're-wo●…ne grinder; 'tis a gentle beast,  
She has forgot to bite: Good innocent gums,  
They cannot hurt;— No danger in her mouth,  
Till she eat Braw●….— Her charitable tongue,  
Like the old Rebels of Northamptonshire,  
Cannot endure hedges of teeth should stand  
To make her mouth enclosure.   An. 
Well sir, you may abuse me: but by Cock and pie,( god forgive me that I should swear) were I as young as I have been, these nails that by a good token have not been pared since eighty eight, should have scratched your face till it had been a dominical one, and as full of red letters as any Ponds almanac in Christendom, 'twere suitable to your prognosticating Nose. I think you are mad; would any but an O●…lando or Jeronymo have used a poor woman so? Do you think I will endure to be your bucking-tub to be washed with the dregs of your wit▪  Nea. 
He did you a courtesy, that would wash you soundly.  Chr. 

O by no means: why she is painted Sir.  
If you should wash her, than my Lady's fucus  
Would drop away; her Cerus and Pomatum  
Being rubed off, would to the world betray  
The rugged wrinkles of her slabbered face.  
Take but the white-lome from this old mudwall,  
And she will look worse than Gamaliel Ra●…sey.   An. 

Are you a Bedlam too, old frosty Squire?  
Are you fourscore, and yet your wit an infant  
Not come to age? Come, I will be your Guardian.   She beats him. Chr. 

Good Mr. Neanias, sweet young master,  
If you do not save me from this Medusa,  
Her Gorgon's head will ●…urn me to a Stonebottle,  
And then throw me at myself, to make me beat out my own brains.   Nea. 

Nay take her to yourself, old impudent Goat,  
To ravish a Maid before her sweethearts face,  
O most inhuman! Yet you may do't for me,  
I will resign my interest: so farewell.  
●…uch joy unto you both. O Hymen, Hymen,  
What a fine couple of sweet Loves are here,  
To keep their wedding in the grave, and get  
A son and heir for Doomsday—   An. 
No prithee do not think so, i swear by Venus i would have none but thee, though P●…gasus and Buccphalus came a wooing to me.  Nea. 

Yes you may have him: yet i cannot leave thee  
Without a tear to quench my flames of love. He weeps.  
Well now farewell: live happy in his love,  
Venus and Cupid bless your marriage-sheets,  
And let you snort this hundred years together.  
J'll grieve the while, and Sacks best virtue try,  
To drown my cares: sorrow( you know) is dry.   Chr. 
Nay by Hecate you shall not put a trick on me thus. I have not outlived my wits: i were mad if i would run myself into another Scylla, having such a dangerous Charybdis of my own at home. Good Mr. Neanias, i did not think she had been your Mistress: i will not for all the world do you such a wrong as to be your Corrival: love her alone for me.  Nea. 

Yes to be dored. Good wickedness, no more:  
Do not entreat me to endure the noose;  
I shall go marry her, be the fool her husband,  
But you will come and kiss her; send your men,  
Your Serving-men to fox me in your cellar,  
While you the while shall cuckold me at home:  
O what a brave Actaeon should should i be!  
What have you ne'er a journy-man, or bailie  
To put her off to? or, if all fail, no Chaplain▪  
I am no freeman, therefore the City-charter  
Will not grant me the privilege of such harness;  
Pray bear your Cap of maintenance yourself.   Chr. 

Come leave this jesting, i'll endure't no longer;  
I will not let you hate this pretty lass.  
S life it may prove her death: These wanton girls  
Are very subject to eat chalk and coals.  
S'lld, too much grief for you, with thoughts of love,  
May chance to generate the greensickness in her.   Nea. 

Nay, I do love her dearly, wondrous dearly,  
Her eyes are Cupid's Grubstreet: The blind archer  
Makes his love-arrows there; bright glowworms eyes,  
No rotten-wood outshines their glorious lustre,  
Fain would i kiss her.   An. 
Faith and thou shalt my little periwinkle.  Nea. 

No, heaven me bless!  
I am not worthy of such happiness.   Chr. 
Yet she accuses you.  Nea. 

How, accuses me? what heinous fault,  
What sin, what sacrilege have i committed  
Against the reliquies of her martyred beauty?   Chr. 
You mocked her, she says, you told her, The Milesians were valiant in the days of yore. Faith do not hit her in the teeth with contumelious proverbs.  Nea. 

Hit her i'th' teeth, why 'tis impossible:  
Hit her i'th' gums we may, but no man living  
Can hit her in the teeth with any thing.  
J'll not fight for her, take her to yourself:   Chr. 
Pray good sir.  Nea. 

I reverence your age; 'tis your grey hairs  
That are such potent suitors, 'twere a sin  
To deny any thing to a snow-white head.  
None else but only you should have obtained her;  
Therefore rejoice, be gone, and stink together.   Chre. 
I know your meaning, you are weary of your stale Whore, you deal with her even as they do with horses, when they are no longer fit for the Saddle, turn them over to the Carmen.  An. 
I will not live with any but with thee.  Nea. 

But what an ass am i thus long to talk  
With an old Bawd, that lost her maidenhead  
Above two thousand years before Deucalion's flood,  
Who living as long a whore, turn Bawd in the days of King Lud?   Chr. 
Nay, since you have drunk of the Wine, you must be content with the Lees.  Nea. 

I but her Lees are bitter, sour as verjuice,  
Mere Vinegar, Vinegar; i will sell her  
For two pence a quart, Vinegar, Vinegar, in a wheel-barrow.  
I will go in & sacrifice my garland to Plutus.   An. 
J'll go in too, i have some business with Plutus.  Nea. 
But now i think on't, i will not go in.  An. 

My business is not much, i ●…are not greatly,  
If i stay with thee.   Chr. 
Come young man, be of good courage, she cannot ravish thee.  Nea. 
I believe that too.  An. 
Go in, J'll follow thee i'th' heels, i warrant thee.  Chr. 
She sticks to him as close as a Cockle.  Nea. 

Come Beldame follow me,  
And in my footsteps tread.  
Then set up shop in Turnbull-street  
And turn a Bawd ere thou art dead.   

And when thou art dead;  
This shall of thee be said,  
Thou livedest a Whore, and diedest a Bawd,  
In hell the Devil's chambermaid.     

Act. 5.  

Scaen. 1.  Mercurius knocking. Chr. 
Who's this that knocks, the door so hard! what, no? Can they walk invisible? I'll lay my life this is a piece of St. Dunstan's ghost that pulls me by the Nose so? Good ghost mistake me not, i am not the Devil, i am honest carrion every inch on me. Well, I see the doors can cry for nothing, I see no, I'll go in again.  Mer. 
So ho, ho, ho, carrion, Carion, Carion stay, I say stay.  Car. 
Stay let my Nose alone, 'twill abide no jesting; Sir, was it you, that was so saucy with my Master's doors to knock them so peremptorily? they shall bring an action of battery against you.  Mer. 
If you had not come quickly, I would have broke them open. Go run, call forth your master and Mistress, the men and the maids, yourself, the Dog and the Bitch, the Cat and the Kitlin, the Sow and the Pigs.  Car. 
My master and mistress, the bastards their children, the men and the maids, myself, the Dog and the Bitch, the C●…t and Kitlin I will call forth: but the Sow and Pigs would desire you to have them excused, they are not at leisure. Why what's the matter?  Mer. 
Why Jupiter will put you all into a sack together, and toss you into Barathrum, ●…errible Barathrum.  Car. 
Barathrum, what's Barathrum?  Mer. 
Why Barathrum is Pluto's boggards: you must be all thrown into Barathrum.  Car. 
I had rather the messenger were you know what. Mercury, why what wrong have we done Jupiter? I remember he has many a time soured our drink with his thundering, but we have done him no injury, but once I broke his shins at football in Tut●…le.  Mer. 

'Tis worse than so; you're guilty of a sin  
That hell would fear to own. Since Esculapius  
That Urinal, restored god Plutus eyes,  
Men have almost forgot to sacrifice:  
But they were wont to offer Hasty-puddings,  
Spice-cakes and many dainties; nay I know  
Some that have spent whole Hecatombs of Beef  
To give the gods their gawdies: now they'd be glad  
To eat the very brewess of the pottage;  
A rump or flap of mutton were a fee  
For Jove's own breakfast; for a rib of beef,  
Though it smelled of every Gippo's scabby fingers,  
May any Scullion be chief Cook of heaven.  
Men have I say forgot to sacrifice.   Car. 

And shall: beggarly Jove does not deserve it.  
He never did us good: we are not beholding  
To any of your lousy gods. Old Plutus,  
Plutus has purchased our devotion,  
Gold is the Saint we reverence.   Mer. 

Nay faith I care not for the other gods,  
Let them go stink and starve; let Cuckold Vulcan  
Go earn his meat by making spits and dripping-pans,  
And with his tinker's budget and his Trull  
Venus, may mend one hole and make ten for it.  
Let Phoebus turn welsh-harper, go a begging,  
And sing St. Taffie for a Barley-crust.  
Let Cupid go to G●…ubstreet, and turn Archer:  
Venus may set up at Picked-hatch or Bloomsbury;  
Juno turn Oyster-quean, and scold at Billingsgate;  
Bacchus may make a Drawer at a tavern,  
Call for Canary for the man i'th' moon.  
Minerva has been always poor: Brainebastards  
Were never borne to many lands. Great Jove  
May pawn his thunderbolts for oaten-cakes.  
For them I care not, but these guts of mine:  
Is it not pity Mercu●…y should pine?   Car. 
Nay now I see thou hast some wit in thy Pericranium.  Mer. 

Whilom the alewives and the fat-bumed Hostesles  
Would give me jugs of Ale without Excise,  
Filled to the brim, no nick nor froth upon them:  
Besides they'd make me Froizes and flapjacks t●…o,  
Feed me with Puddings, give me brokenmeat  
And many dainty morsels for to eat.  
O shall I never more begrease my chaps  
With glorious bits of Bacon! shall M●…rcurius  
Stretch forth his legs for want of Buttermilk!   Car. 

Nay this injustice thou deserv'st to see,  
For injuring those that have done good for thee.   Mer. 

Alack and welladay,  
Shall I never the Custard see,  
Which the fourth day of every month  
Was consecrate unto me?   Car. 

Alack and welladay,  
In vain dost thou pray 〈◊〉 I fear:  
The Custard is a deaf god,  
And cannot so quickly hear.   Mer. 

If Custard cannot hear,  
Come Shoulder of mutton to me,  
Black-pudding also with pudding-pies,  
And a mess of furmenty.   Car. 

Alack poor Mercury!  
For thy case i do much condole.  
Thou never shalt steal again any meal  
Or Spitchcock at Hockly-u●…'-hole.   
Come faith, since Thieving is out of fashi●…,( Dost remember when thou stolest Apollo Spectacles and Vulcan's Crutches▪) learn to beg. Suppose I am a rich Gentleman, and thou a lame fellow; perchance I may be in the humour to give thee something.  Mer. 
Kind Gentleman, for the Loords sake bestow something on a poor lame Cripple, that has halted before his best friends upward and downward, any time this dozen years: this leg, i'll stand to it, has been lame ever since the last dearth of corn, god be with it. heaven preserve your limbs, Jove keep your feet out o'th' setters, your legs out o'th' stocks, your heads out o'th' pillory, your necks out o'th' halters, and other such infirmiti●…s poor mortality is subject to. May you never know what 'tis to want till you are in poverty. Good Gentlemen, take compastion on a wretched mortal, that has been troubled with a deadness in his arms, that he has not had the lawful use of his hands in picking and stealing this many hours.  Car. 
Sirrah, sirrah, you must have the lash; I'll have you whipped for a vagiant person.  Mer. 
This is a Justice of Peace's charity: if this be that you'd be in the humour to give, ●…ray keep it to yourself.  Car. 
Faith act a poor soldier: men are charitable to men of arms.  Mer. 
A word with you generous sir. Noble sir, thou seemest to be a man of worship, and i am one that have seen the face of the enemy in my days, and ventured a bloody nose in defence of my country. Good sir, lend me a Crown till the next taking of Basing-house, and by all the cold iron about me, you shall be presently paid upon the surrender. Noble Gentleman, do not make known my necessities; I would have scorned to have asked such a kindness of Hopton or Montrosse; I had rather have starved in the leaguer, and fed upon nothing but sword and buckler; and yet Hopton is a noble fellow, many a timberpeece have i spent in his company.  Car. 
What service hast thou been in?  Mer. 
Hot service sir, supping at the very mouth of the Martial porridge-pot, i have scalled my lips with kissing valour. Did you never hear how i routed a Regiment of Ormond's Foot?  Car. 
Never sir, how i pray?  Mer. 
Sir, by this good sword if it be not true, i am an arrant liar, and never saw the wars in my life. Sir, i advanced my spear, ran with a furious tilt at them, and unhorsed every man.  Car. 
Of the Regiment of Foot.  Mer. 
You are in the right sir, 'twas by a metaphor. Then sir the Ensigns of my reputation being displayed; a valiant Frenchman, he was born at Madrid in Spain—  Car. 
By a metaphor.  Mer. 
Challenged me the duel at backsword: we met at the first thrust of the Rapier.  Car. 
By a metaphor.  Mer. 
He shot me clean through the body.  Car. 
By a metaphor still, the Rapier shot you through.  Mer. 
On my cr●…dit sir, 'twas a musket-bullet: for when the Fort saw me have the best on't, they leveled a Canon at me ready charged.  Car. 
By a metaphor, with a musket-bullet.  Mer. 
And shot off both my arms. That being done, i caught him by the throat with my right hand.  Car. 
When your arms were off.  Mer. 
Drew out my weapon with my left, and cut off his head. I was proceeding to have run him thorough, but he asked my pardon, and I was merciful and saved his life.  Car. 
When his head was off.  Mer. 
You will not believe me now, if the self same man be as live as J. Prince Rup●…rt knows what service I did at Marston-moore when i run away. But now to be contemned! O Poverty, foe to Valour!  Car. 
Thy valour? Thou lookest as if thou hadst no stomach at all.  Mer. 
Would i had a roasted ox to encounter with. I have showed my valour in Bohemia against the Imperialists, in Poland against the Turks, in Holland against the Spaniards, in Utopia against the roundheads, and is it questioned in England? i was once a freshwater soldier, but i was seasoned at the salt Isle of Ree: there was my masterpiece of valour.  Car. 
What was that i pray?  Mer. 
Why sir, i fought courageously; i was in all the dangerous services, and had misfortunes in all. First sir, i was drowned in the landing, had both my Legs shot off in the assault, and ran away in the retreat as all the rest did.  Car. 
How? when your Legs were shot off in the assault?  Mer. 
What of that? have i not wings on my Doublet?  Car. 
Why the●…, you did not run, you did but fly.  Mer. 
Flying is running away by a metaphor.  Car. 
Come thou wilt get nothing by this lying warfare. Let me try the Gipsy.  Mer. 

From Egypt have i come  
With Solomon for my guide:  
By C●…iromanties i can tell  
What fortunes thee betide.   

A Chaldee me begot,  
Old Talmud was his name;  
In hieroglyphics he excelled,  
Through Nilus ran his fame.   

Come let me see thy hand,  
Thou wives hast yet had none;  
But Bastinadoes at a time  
About threescore and one.   He picks carrions pocket. Car. 
Well, thou art an arrant Gipsy: at what neighbours house didst thou learn this? 'sfoot, how camest thou to know it? I had just threescore and one indeed. Well, I will give thee something: But O Mercury, my Purse! I'lutus his blessing is run out of my Pockets. I will have you hanged, you rogue. There were seven thirteen-pence-half-pennies, would have paid the hangman for above half a dozen of you. Good Mercury, thou shalt so●… what I'll do for thee.  Mer. 
Well, if you will entertain me into your family, there's your Purse again, and take heed how you meet with Gipsies.  Car. 
Entertain thee? Why, what canst thou do?  Mer. 
Why, let me be your Porter. 〈◊〉 have a Janus' heart, though not two faces.  Car. 
A Porter! canst thou grumble soundly at a rich man's gate to keep out the poor almsemen? canst thou bark like grisly C●…rberus? No, 'twill not do, my Master needs no surly Bandogs, we shall keep open house. The office of Porter is thrust out of doors.  Mer. 
Make me your Merchant.  Car. 
We dare not: Get you to the straits of Gibraltar, we need no busy Factors, we have wealth enough: we will have no Merchants, we shall not sleep for them at nights, They will dream of nothing but new America's, drink the Canaries, snort out Terra Incognita's, nose the Bermudas, ravish Virginia, talk of the fortunate Islands, or choke us up with Terra del Fogo's. No, no, I will have none of our family walk like the Antipodes with his heels upwards; if he should fall headlong into heaven, he might put out the Man in the moon's candle, and leave him to find his way to bed in the dark.  Mer. 
Let me be your fool to make you merry.  Car. 
A Fool! Let me see: we are all rich, and therefore likely we must have some fools amongst us. But what need that, we have as good, we have some of them that fortune favours.  Mer. 
Then let me be your juggler.  Car. 
Not for Zerubbabel's nightcap. These Hocus-Pocusses seldom come aloft for their Master's advantage. You think to pick our pockets by slight of hand, and show us a trick for our money: i do not like these feats of activity; therefore Presto be gone, we will have no jugglers.  Mer. 
Then let me be your Poet: J'll make you shows and Masques, Comedies and Tragedies, Pastorals, Piscatorial Sonnets, cantos, Madrigals and Ballads, till you are so tickled with laughter, that you cannot stand.  Car. 
A Poet! no, 'tis a little too beggarly a trade; and 'tis a solecism if wit should meet with wealth in these days. Fie upon't, I can't endure jestings, Poetical furies, i had as lief they should break wind backward. Your rank wits will abuse their betters. And for shows, rascally shows, 'tis pity they are not hanged for their impudence: There cannot be a gross sin in a Congregation, but some men's vinegar-brains must be a rubbing of it. I warrant if i should but marry a townsmans' daughter to day, they'd make an Actaeon of me by to morrow, dub me Knight of the forked Order. Poor shallow scundrels there be that never drank any Helicon above a penny a quart, and yet venture to make Ballads as lousy as themselves. Wry-mouthed villains, who cannot answer to the question, if they should be asked how many of their empty Noddles go to the making up of a complete Coxcomb. But yet i do love a show, if it be a merry one. Well, thou shalt be our household-poet, for houshold-Chaplains are now out of date like old almanacs; every man can now say grace, and preach, and say prayers to themselves, or( which is better) forget to say any at all. Well, get thee in, prepare things fitting for the sacrifice. If this fellow had not good store of trades, he had missed of all preferment. Well now, this Poet shall make ballads on all the hypoc●…ites of the town, he shall rhyme all the Anabaptists out of their wits.  Enter Attorney, Tinker, Miller, Tailor, shoemaker, &c. Att. 
O that Plutus his eyes were scratched out! I can have no more Fees for Latitats nor Outlawries.  Think. 
Nay, i am a Lad of metal, of all that but gold and silver, can make no profit of my brass nor Latin: there's no need of making more holes than one now, and that's a wicked one for my neck to slip into.  Miller. 
My double Toll fails me, O this grinds me to peece●….  Tail. 
O 'tis the worst stitch that was ever sowed with the needle of misfortune. O iron age, that like the Ostrich makes me feed on my own Goose!  Shoo. 
O this false Cordwainer Plutus, that stretches the leather of my flesh on the Tree of fatality; that unmercifully puts me into the Stocks of adversity, and gives me no relief at the Last.  Tail. 
Nay he has made me so slender, that I can measure me by my own Yard, three quarters quarter and half nail. This crosslegged infelicity, sharper than my needle, makes me eat my own Cabbage.  Shoo. 
Nothing but a general insurrection like a shoeing-horn can draw on help. Let us combine and patch together.  Om. 
Agreed, agreed.  Exeum. Enter Dull-pate solus. 
It is a sign Plutus has lost his eyes, when Dull-pates grow rich: if my name had not been Dull-pate, I had lost half my preferment. It is thought i have as many Ecclesiastical Livings as Spalleto had in England; Never a fat Benefice falls now adays, but i catch it up; i can have 'em now without lustful Simony, in taking Bishops kinswomen in●…o the bargain. I have often wondered how it comes about that my head is so black, but the hairs of my chin grey: A merry fellow once told me, 'twas because I used my chaps more than my brains. 'tis true indeed, I fare well, because i was born under a rich Constellation, but the learned sort under a poor Psanct. As for example, here comes the Pope, Jupiter's Vicat.— bless thy wicked holiness! thou, the Devil, Cardinal Richli●…u, and the French faction at Court, have brought all the wars into England.  Enter Pope selves. Pope. 
Who can instruct me which is Chremylus house?  Dul. 

Grave reverend Father, 〈◊〉 's the 〈◊〉 with you?  
How does your 〈◊〉?   Pop. 

Ill as ill may 〈◊〉,  
Since Plutus eyesight is restored.   Dul. 

What is the cause of this your heaviness:  
Doth the proud Emperor refuse to kiss  
Your sacred toe? or does it vex your Bonnyface  
To lose your peter-pences? what is the cause  
Great Catholic Bishop, Monarch of the Church,  
The supreme Judge Ecclesiastical,  
That you are thus perplexed? why do you not curse ●…m  
With your Bell, Book, and Candle, that molest you?   Pop. 

O i am dead with hunger, a saucy hunger,  
With heresy as bad as Arianism,  
Knows on my sacred guts. I the great father  
And Prince of Rome have not a crust,  
Not a brown crust to gnaw on. Jove's own Vicar,  
Nay Jove himself on earth, would beg on knees  
For one small piece of sausage. This sad morn,  
For a broiled Sprat i pauned my triple crown,  
And now for one Red-herring will i mortgage  
All Peter's large possessions.   Dul. 

Aha great Pope, can your Pontificial teeth  
Be glad to gnaw upon a Catholic Tripe?  
Can your great metropolitan stomach feed  
On a Hogs-cheek? 'tis strange, me▪ thinks, that you  
Being the universal Bishop, should not  
Have one poor porridge-pot in all your diocese,  
Never a soul in Limbo ready fried?  
Is all the Roast in Purgatory spent?  
Are all your Bulls devoured? faith kill a Bull,  
Good Pope, a Bull, to make your holiness Beef.  
There must be meat somewhere or other sure,  
Or can you open heaven & hell at pleasure;  
And cannot Peter's keys unlock the Cupboard?  
Why sure our Lady's milk is not all spent,  
No relics left, nor chips o'th' cross to feed on?  
Sure at 〈◊〉 or ●…t Compostella.  
None of the Capuchins at Somerset▪ house▪  
How can it be an't please your holiness?   Pop. 

O no: since Plutus hath received his eyes,  
Indulgencies are grown cheap, & at no price:  
An absolution for a Rape made now  
Is nothing worth.  
Give me but one poor crust before i faint,  
And i will canonize thee for a Saint.   Dul. 

Or let me purchase for a Muttonbone  
Your Apostolical benediction.   Pop. 

A mess of Broth or rib of Beef from thee,  
●…n my esteem shall meritorious be.   Dul. 

Nay i will have it more, such a donation  
Shall be a work of supererogation.   Pop. 
O how i thirst!  Dul. 

M●… reverend Pater, cannot you drink a cup of holywater?  
Now you that could drink Tiber dry, and more,  
Cannot obtain a Jug upon the score.  
Go try, they'll hardly trust you for a drop  
At the Popes-head, Mitre, or Ca●…dinals-Cap,  
Or any place; 'tis money draws the tap.   Pop. 

So irreligious are these ages grown,  
They think it charity to rob the Clergy.  
How comes it that you dare with impudence  
Deny the Priests their tithes?   Dul. 

O, easily sir. A learned Antiquary that has searched  
The breech of Saturn for Antiquities;  
Proves by a reason an infallible reason,  
With bugle-horn writ in the Saxon tongue,  
That neither praedial, nor personal tithes  
Are due ex jure divino: and you know  
The clergy Bishops, your old quondam Patrons  
Are voted down too, and ever since w'have learned  
A liberty of Conscience to pay no tithes.  
We hear some teach too, they are An●… christian,  
Like Steeple-houses; hence we learn to be  
Too cunning now for your Apostolic See.   Pop. 

Now worms devour that Antiquaries nose,  
And those that preach against all Steeple-houses;  
That power in papers half consumed with moths,  
To prove some absurd opinions feigned to be  
Found in the walls of some old Nunnery,  
But o my guts wish for a Benedicite!   Dull. 

Will't please your holiness to call a Synod?  
You may chance to catch trowt●… in the council of Trent.   Pop. 
O I do smell the scent of Pipp●…n-pies.  Dull. 

You do indeed, your holiness Nose I see,  
Has the true spirit of Infallibility,  
I find you cannot err. What would you do,  
To be of our house now to have freequarter?   Pop. 
I would resign my right to heaven and hell.  Dull. 

Ti-he-he, well said good Pope I●…nocent.  
But that's too much, resign your heaven only,  
Retain your right to hell; your title there  
Is held 〈◊〉. Well now,  
Stay here a whil●… 〈◊〉 sing a merry song  
As we to Plutus go, and I will free  
Thy guts from the Purgatory of fasting.   Enter Anus. An. 

Is this the Pope? Goddy god-den good Father.  
I do not come unto thy holiness  
To beg a Licence to eat flesh on Fridays;  
But I desire thy Apostolical Curse  
On a young man that has abused me grossly;  
May it please thy catholicness, the perjured Boy  
Swore to lie with me while he lived, but he  
Grown rich does think to buy out perjury.  
Now good your holiness give him not absolution.   Pop. 

Would he were here; for three pence I could sell him  
A g●…neral remission of his sins:  
I am almost famished for want of customers.   Dull. 

Go woman, fetch the choir in for sacrifice.  
( But bid them bring no Copes nor Organs with them.)  
And I will get his holiness to command him  
To lie with thee this night what ●…re come on't.  
It is enjoined him for his penance is't not?   An. 
It is an't please your holiness.  Pop. 

Any thing shall please my holiness, if you give me  
But the least hopes to feed my holiness:  
'tis a lean holiness, as the wo●…ld goes now.   Dull. 

'tis strange that you, the shepherd of all Europe,  
Should not have one fat Lamb●… in all your flock.  
What say, if I give you a leg of Mutton?   Pope 
Remission of sins, whe●… ere they be.  Dull. 
But what if I have sworn to give thee nothing?  Pope 
My holiness shall give thee absolution.  Dull. 
But I did but equivocate when I promised?  Pope 
I'll free thee from all men●…all Reservation.  Dull. 

But what if this same Mutton have gone through  
Every Gyppo's hands?   Pope 

I grant it lawful:  
I do allow traditions.   Dull. 
Well then, I have Remission of all my sins.  Pope 
With leave and pardon for all sins hereafter.  Dull. 

What ere they be; though I should ravish Nuns  
Under the Altar?   Pop. 
'tis a Venial sin.  Dull. 
Or kill a King?  Pop. 
'tis meritorious.  Dull. 

Cuckold my Father, Whore my natural Mother,  
Grant the supremacy of the secular powers,  
Be drunk at mass, strip all the Feminine Saints  
Into their Smocks, laugh at a friar's baldcrown,  
Piss in the Pixe, deny your mysteries,  
Outlie your Legend, get Pope Joane with child,  
Eat flesh in Lent, sit off my Confessors Ears,  
Or any sin, as great as your own holiness,  
Or any of your Predecessors acted.   Pop. 

A leg of Mutton wipes all sins away,  
So good a deed will justify.   Dull. 
Swear then.  Pop. 
I swear and grant it sub Sigillo Piscatoris.  Dull. 

A pox upon Sigillum Piscatoris,  
Send it to Yarmouth, let it fish for Herrings.  
Swear, i say, that is, kiss my Imperial shoe,  
As Emperors do yours.—   Pop. 

I am Servus servorum, your servant's servant.  
Sans compliment, like Ham—.  
O that this leather of thy shoe, this leather  
Could be made flesh by Transubstantiation!  
I would not only kiss but eat thy Toe.   Dull. 

Moreover you shall swear that once a year  
I shall have entire power to forgive sins  
To my Comrades.   Pop. 

As much as i myself:  
I swear and kiss your holiness toe.   Dull. 

And that when i do knock at heaven gates,  
The Porter let me in for nothing. Swear again.   Pop. 
Again i swear, by this sweet kiss he shall.  Dull. 

Well, 'tis sufficient, i will pay your Ordinary. Enter choir.  
Here comes the choir prepare your voice and sing.  
The roundheads will not come, cause the Pope's here.   Pop. 

O fratres nostri ventr●…s siut replcti,  
For empty maws are never truly laeti:  
To feed on meats, and drink of potionibus,  
Is th' only physic for devotionibus.   Om. 
Benedixit Esculapius.  Pop. 

Cheesecakes and Custards, and such good placentas,  
Excel Good-fridays, Ember-weeks & Lenta's:  
When belly's full, we'el go to the Cloisteribus  
To kiss the Nuns and all the Mulieribus.   Om. 
Benedixit, &c.  Pop. 

I do not think you hold him for sinner,  
Whose best devotion tends unto his dinner:  
One glass of Sack or cup of nappy Alibus,  
More virtue has then all our Decretalibus.   Om. 
Benedixit, &c.  Pop. 

I had rather cat a meal then tell a story,  
Of limbo patrum or of Purgatory:  
No blessings like the pleasure of the Tastibus,  
No relics holier than the Venison Pastibus.   Om. 
Benedixit, &c.  Pop. 

These are the Prayers, devotions and delightas  
Of Cardinals, Popes, Friars and Jesuita's.  
Their breakfasts are their matins holy zelibus,  
Their Vespertines are eating beef & velibus.   Om. 
Benedixit, &c.  Pop. 

Come 〈◊〉 & sorores per praesentes,  
Let us go in to exercise our dentes,  
Where we will sit with you and your uxoribus,  
To laugh at all these hungry auditoribus.   Om. 
Benedixit, &c.  Exeunt omnes.  

Act. 5. Scaen. ult.  Enter Plutus 〈◊〉 a Letter. 
I came into England but since this Parliament sat,( the plunderers i thank them brought me hither) and i think i have had about 200000. suiters at least: nay, some great men have been ambitious to proffer me their daughters to marry. They indeed be great ones, but i only look after Honesty now i have got my eyesight. Never did gudg●…ons at a mill-tail more greedily bite the bait, than some of 'em after me. Had i had th●… palsy, Sciatica, Cough, Ague, fever, French pox, and a whole cartload of diseases,( as i have the Gout already, because i am rich) they would have taken me with all my faults. England( I see) is a covetous place. This morning i have received no less than forty letters to the same purpose. Above all, one Mrs. Maria Corombona Butto Fuocco woes me; as sure as can be a Venetian 〈◊〉 bred up in London, an arrant whore. 〈◊〉 her Letter. A Plauto Gentilhomme d'Inghilterra de bona gratia, Maria butta suoccae and so forth. A pox take her! I have forty more of them in my pocket. But there is one Mrs. Honesty Cleon, an honest scrivener's daughter,( 'tis strange they have any thing to do with Honesty, i warrant she'll not live long) she is the Mistress of my affections, for she is honest. See here she comes.  Enter Mrs. Honesty. 

Fair Lady, fairer than the morning-skies,  
Hath not young Cupid touched your amorous eyes?  
I am all for golden Verses gratulation,  
But must not pass by courteous salutation.   They kiss. Hon. 

Sir, if I may confess, Loves art  
No●… only touched my eyes, but heart.   Plut. 

Nay then the Parson straight shall do his part,  
Let's in: the Gordian knot none can untwiss,  
We'll tie it fast, and as we go we'll kiss.  
In any state never will be foul weather,  
When Honesty and Riches meet together.   Exeunt.    

The Epilogue.  

Old Wealth( you see) with Honesty and Piety  
Is joined in league for mutual society.  
O would it were the blessing of our Nation,  
They might have issue too by procreation!  
But sure the Bride's past childbearing; that's the reason  
So few are honest in this age and season.  
If't be a stolen match, P●…test must be taxed';  
'tis certain true, the Banes were never ax't,  
For he that joined their hands( for aught I hear)  
He was a very honest Cavalier;  
He used the Ring and Book, went not by heart,  
But joined them word for word, Till death depart.  
Full resolute, without Te●…s, to tie the noose:  
I●… had lost his Benefice, he'd no move to lose.  
I know there's many wagg●…sh Pates join force  
To part this couple by a sad divorce:  
We hope't will not be granted by Petition  
At th' Arches, Doctors Commons, or High-Commission:  
〈◊〉 I do verily think there's 〈◊〉 intent  
To sever them by this our Parliament.  
Therefore God give 'em joy! Joy may they find!  
This is the wish of every virtuous mind.  
But wicked Rascals sing another Catch;  
Pox take 'em both! 'tis an unlucky match.  
It is indeed for them, because 'twill serve  
To send their Brats to Tyburn, or to starve.  
Welsh Parst y is good physic. Honest guests  
We only bid to these our Nuptial feasts.  
Offerings to th' rich are base: yet we demand  
That you pay down a Plaudite at hand.   
FINIS.