THE LITTLE FRENCH LAWYER.  

Actus Primus.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Dinant and Cleremont. Din. 
Dissuade me not.  Clere. 
It will breed a brawl.  Din. 
I care not, I wear a Sword.  Cler. 
And wear discretion with it,  
Or cast it off, let that direct your arm,  
'Tis madness else, not valour, and more base  
Than to receive a wrong.  Din. 
Why would you have me  
Sit down with a disgrace, and thank the doer?  
We are not Stoics, and that passive courage  
Is only now, commendable in Lackeys,  
Peasants, and Tradesmen, not in men of rank,  
And quality, as I am.  Cler. 
Do not cherish  
That daring vice, for which the whole age suffers  
The blood of our bold youth, that heretofore  
Was spent in honourable action,  
Or to defend, or to enlarge the Kingdom,  
For the honour of our Country, and our Prince,  
Pours itself out, with prodigal expense  
Upon our Mother's lap, the Earth that bred us  
For every trifle, and these private Duels,  
Which had their first original from the French;  
(And for which, to this day, we are justly censured)  
And banished from all civil Governments  
Scarce three in Venice, in as many years;  
In Florence, they are rarer, and in all  
The fair Dominions of the Spanish King,  
They are never heard of: Nay, those neighbour Countries,  
Which gladly imitate our other follies,  
And come at a dear rate to buy them of us,  
Begin now to detest them.  Din. 
Will you? and yet—  Cler. 
And I have heard, that some of our late Kings,  
For the lie, wearing of a Mistress, feathers;  
A cheat at Cards or Dice and such like causes,  
Have lost as many gallant Gentlemen,  
As might have met the great Turk in the field  
With confidence of a glorious Victory,  
And shall we then—  Din. 
No more, for shame no more,  
Are you become a Patron to? 'tis a new one,  
No more on't, burn't, give it to some Orator,  
To help him to enlarge his exercise,  
With such a one, it might do well, and profit  
The Curate of the Parish, but for Cleremont  
The bold, and undertaking Cleremont,  
To talk thus to his friend his friend that knows him,  
Dinant, that knows his Cleremont, is absurd,  
And mere apocrypha.  Cler. 
Why, what know you of me?  Din. 
Why if thou hast forgot thyself, I'll tell thee,  
And not look back, to speak of what thou wert  
At fifteen, for at those years, I have heard  
Thou wast fleshed, and entered bravely.  Cler. 
Well sir, well.  Din. 
But yesterday, thou wast the common second,  
Of all that only knew thee, thou hadst bills  
Set up on every post, to give thee notice,  
Where any difference was, and who were parties,  
And as, to save the charges of the Law;  
Poor men seek Arbitrators, thou wert chosen  
By such as knew thee not, to compound quarrels:  
But thou wert so delighted with the sport,  
That if there were no just cause, thou wouldst make one,  
Or be engaged thyself: This godly calling  
Thou hast followed five and twenty years, and studied  
The Criticisms of contentions, and art thou  
In so few hours transformed? certain this night  
Thou hast had strange dreams, or rather visions.  Cler. 
Yes, Sir,  
I have seen fools, and fighters, chained together,  
And the Fighters had the upper hand and whipped first,  
The poor Sots laughing at 'em. What I have been  
It skill not, what I will be is resolved on.  Din. 
Why then you'll fight no more?  Cler. 
Such is my purpose.  Din. 
On no occasion?  Cler. 
There you stagger me,  
Some kind of wrongs there are, which flesh and blood  
Cannot endure.  Din. 
Thou wouldst not willingly,  
Live a protested coward, or be called one?  Cler. 
Words, are but words.  Din. 
Nor wouldst thou take a blow?  Cler. 
Not from my friend, though drunk, and from an enemy,  
I think much less.  Din. 
There's some hope of thee left then.  
Wouldst thou hear me, behind my back disgraced?  Cler. 
Do you think I am a rogue? they that should do it  
Had better been borne dumb.  Din. 
Or in thy presence?  
See me o'ercharged with odds?  Cler. 
I'd fall myself first.  Din. 
Wouldst thou endure thy Mistress be taken from thee,  
And thou sit quiet?  Cler. 
There you touch my honour,  
No French man can endure that.  Din. 
Pl— upon thee,  
Why dost thou talk of Peace then? that dar'st suffer  
Nothing, or in thyself, or in thy friend  
That is unmanly?  Cler. 
That I grant, I cannot:  
But I'll not quarrel with this Gentleman,  
For wearing stammel Breeches, or this Gamester,  
For playing a thousand pounds, that owes me nothing;  
For this man's taking up a common Wench  
In rags, and lousy, then maintaining her  
caroched in cloth of Tissue, nor five hundred  
Of such like toys, that at no part concern me;  
Marry, where my honour, or my friend is questioned,  
I have a Sword, and I think I may use it  
To the cutting of a rascal's throat, or so,  
Like a good Christian.  Din. 
Thou art of a fine Religion,  
And rather then we'll make a Schism in friendship,  
I will be of it: But to be serious,  
Thou art acquainted with my tedious love-suit  
To fair Lamira.  Cler. 
Too well Sir, and remember  
Your presents, courtship, that's too good a name,  
Your slave-like services, your morning music;  
Your walking three hours in the rain at midnight,  
To see her at her window, sometimes laughed at,  
Sometimes admitted, and vouchsafed to kiss  
Her glove, her skirt, nay I have heard, her slippers,  
How then you triumphed?  
Here was love forsooth.  Din. 
These follies I deny not,  
Such a contemptible thing, my dotage made me,  
But my reward for this—  Cler. 
As you deserved.  
For he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,  
Merits no other recompense.  Din. 
This day friend,  
For thou art so—  Cler. 
I am no flatterer.  Din. 
This proud, ingrateful she, is married to  
Lame Champernell.  Cler. 
I know him, he has been  
As tall a Seaman, and has thrived as well by't,  
The loss of a leg and an Arm deducted, as any  
That ever put from Marseils: you are tame,  
Pl— on't, it mads me; if it were my case,  
I should kill all the family.  Din. 
Yet but now  
You did preach patience.  Cler. 
I then came from confession,  
And 't was enjoined me three hours for a penance,  
To be a peaceable man, and to talk like one,  
But now, all else being pardoned, I begin  
On a new Tally, Foot do any thing,  
I'll second you.  Din. 
I would not willingly  
Make red, my yet white conscience, yet I purpose  
In the open street, as they come from the Temple,  
(For this way they must pass,) to speak my wrongs,  
And do it boldly. Music plays.  Cler. 
Were thy tongue a Cannon,  
I would stand by thee, boy, they come, upon 'em.  Din. 
Observe a little first.  Cler. 
This is fine fiddling.  Enter Vertaigne, Champernell Lamira, Nurse, Beaupre Verdoone. 

An Epithalamin Song at the Wedding.  
COme away bring on the Bride  
And place her by her lover's side:  
You fair troop of Maids attend her,  
Pure and holy thoughts be friend her.  
Blush, and wish, you Virgins all  
Many such fair nights may fall   Chorus, 

Hymen, fill the house with joy,  
All thy sacred fires employ:  
Bless the Bed, with holy love,  
Now fair or be of Beauty move.   Din. 
Stand by, for 'twill be heard.  Verta. 
This is strange rudeness.  Din. 
'Tis courtship, balanced with injuries,  
You all look pale with guilt, but I will die  
Your cheeks with blushes, if in your seared veins,  
There yet remain so much of honest blood  
To make the colour; first to ye my Lord,  
The Father of this Bride, whom you have sent  
Alive into her grave.  Champ. 
How? to her grave?  Dina. 
Be patient sir, I'll speak of you anon,  
You that allowed me liberal access,  
To make my way with service, and approved of  
My birth, my person, years, and no base fortune:  
You that are rich, and but in this held wise too,  
That as a Father should have looked upon  
Your Daughter in a Husband, and aimed more  
At what her youth, and heat of blood required  
In lawful pleasures, than the parting from  
Your Crowns to pay her dowry: you that already  
Have one foot in the grave, yet study profit,  
As if you were assured, to live here ever;  
What poor end had you, in this choice? in what  
Deserve I your contempt? my house, and honours,  
At all parts equal yours, my fame as fair,  
And not to praise myself, the City ranks me,  
In the first file, of her most hopeful Gentry:  
But Champernell is rich, and needs a nurse,  
And not your gold: And add to that, he's old too,  
His whole estate in likelihood, to descend  
Upon a Family; Here was providence,  
I grant, but in a Nobleman, base thrift:  
No Merchants, nay, no Pirates, sell for Bondmen.  
Their Countrymen, but you, a Gentleman,  
To save a little gold have sold your Daughter  
To worse than slavery.  Cler. 
This was spoke home indeed.  Bean. 
Sir, I shall take some other time to tell you,  
That this harsh language, was delivered to  
An old man, but my Father.  Din. 
At your pleasure.  Cler. 
Proceed in your design, let me alone,  
To answer him, or any man.  Verd. 
You presume  
Too much upon your name, but may be cousined.  Din. 
But for you, most unmindful of my service,  
For now I may upbraid you, and with honour,  
Since all is lost, and yet I am a gainer,  
In being delivered from a torment in you,  
For such you must have been, you to whom nature  
Gave with a liberal hand, most excellent form,  
Your education, language, and discourse,  
And judgement to distinguish when you shall  
With feeling sorrow, understand how wretched  
And miserable, you have made yourself,  
And but yourself, have nothing to accuse,  
Can you with hope from any beg compassion?  
But you will say, you served your Father's pleasure,  
Forgetting that unjust commands of Parents  
Are not to be obeyed, or that you are rich,  
And that to wealth, all pleasure else are servants,  
Yet but consider, how this wealth was purchased,  
'Twill trouble the possession.  Champ. 
You sir know  
I got it, and with honour.  Din. 
But from whom?  
Remember that, and how: you'll come indeed  
To houses bravely furnished, but demanding  
Where it was bought, this soldier will not lie,  
But answer truly, this rich cloth of Arras,  
I made my prize in such a Ship, this Plate  
Was my share in another; these fair Jewels,  
Coming ashore, I got in such a Village,  
The Maid, or Matron killed, from whom they were ravished,  
The Wines you drink, are guilty too, for this,  
This candy Wine, three Merchants were undone,  
These Suckets break as many more, in brief,  
All you shall wear, or touch, or see, is purchased  
By lawless force, and you but revel in  
The tears, and groans, of such as were the owners.  Champ. 
'Tis false, most basely false.  Verta. 
Let losers' talk.  Din. 
Lastly, those joys, those best of joys, which Hymen  
Freely bestows on such, that come to tie  
The sacred knot he blesses, won unto it  
By equal love, and mutual affection,  
Not blindly led, with the desire of riches,  
Most miserable you, shall never taste of,  
This Marriage night, you'll meet a widow's bed,  
Or failing of those pleasures, all Brides look for,  
Sin in your wish it were so,  Champ. 
Thou art a Villain,  
A base, malicious slanderer.  Cler. 
Strike him.  Din. 
No, he is not worth a blow.  Champ. 
O that I had thee  
In some close vault that only would yield room  
To me to use my Sword, to thee no hope  
To run away, I would make thee on thy knees,  
Bite out the tongue that wronged me.  Verta. 
Pray you have patience.  Lamira. 
This day I am to be your Sovereign,  
Let me command you.  Champ. 
I am lost with rage,  
And know not what I am myself, nor you:  
Away, dare such as you, that love the smoke  
Of peace, more than the fire of glorious War,  
And like unprofitable drones, feed on  
Your grandsires labours, that, as I am now,  
Were gathering Bees, and filled their Hive, this Country  
With brave triumphant spoils, censure our Actions?  
You object my prizes to me, had you seen  
The horror of a Sea-fight, with what danger  
I made them mine; the fire I fearless fought in  
And quenched it in mine enemy's blood, which straight  
Like Oil poured out on't, made it burn anew;  
My Deck blown up, with noise enough to mock  
The loudest thunder, and the desperate fools  
That Boarded me, sent to defy the tempest  
That were against me to the angry Sea,  
Frighted with men thrown o'er; no victory,  
But in despite of the four Elements,  
The Fire, the Air, the Sea, and sands hid in it  
To be achieved, you would confess poor men,  
(Though hopeless, such an honourable way  
To get or wealth, or honour) in yourselves;  
He that through all these dreadful passages,  
Pursued and overtook them, unaffrighted,  
Deserves reward, and not to have it styled  
By the base name of theft.  Din. 
This is the Courtship,  
That you must look for, Madam.  Cler. 
'Twill do well,  
When nothing can be done, to spend the night with:  
Your tongue is sound, good Lord, I could wish  
For this young Lady's sake this leg, this arm,  
And there is something else I will not name,  
(Though 'tis the only thing that must content her)  
Had the same vigour.  Champ. 
You shall buy these scoffs  
With your best blood, help me once noble anger,  
(Nay stir not, I alone must right myself)  
And with one leg transport me to correct  
These scandalous praters: o that noble wounds Falls.  
Should hinder just revenge? D'ye jeer me too?  
I got these not as you do your diseases  
In brothels, or with riotous abuse  
Of wine in Taverns; I have one leg shot,  
One arm disabled, and am honoured more,  
By losing them as I did in the face  
Of a brave enemy then if they were  
As when I put to Sea; you are French men only,  
In that you have been laid, and cured, go to:  
You mock my leg but every bone about you,  
Makes you good Almanac-makers, to foretell  
What wether we shall have.  Din. 
Put up your Sword.  Cler. 
Or turn it to a Crutch, there't may be useful,  
And live, on the relation to your Wife,  
Of what a brave man you were once.  Din. 
And tell her  
What a fine virtue, 'tis in a young Lady  
To give an old man pap.  Cler. 
Or hire a Surgeon  
To teach her to roll up your broken limbs.  Din. 
To make a Poultice, and endure the scent  
Of oils and nasty Plasters.  Vert. 
Fie sir, fie,  
You that have stood all dangers of all kinds,  
To yield to a rival's scoff?  Lamira. 
Shed tears upon  
Your Wedding day? this is unmanly Gentlemen.  Champ. 
They are tears of anger oh that I should live  
To play the woman thus? All powerful heaven,  
Restore me, but one hour, that strength again,  
That I had once, to chastise in these men,  
Their follies, and ill manners, and that done,  
When you please, I'll yield up the fort of life,  
And do it gladly  Cler. 
We ha' the better of him,  
We ha' made him cry.  Verdo. 
You shall have satisfaction,  
And I will do it nobly, or disclaim me.  Beaup. 
I say no more you have a Brother, Sister,  
This is your Wedding day, we are in the street,  
And howsoever, they forget their honour,  
'Tis fit I lose not mine, by their example.  Verta. 
If there be Laws in Paris look to answer  
This insolent affront  Cler. 
You that live by them,  
Study 'em for heaven's sake; for my part I know not  
Nor care not what they are, Is their aught else  
That you would say?  Din. 
Nothing, I have my ends,  
Lamira weeps, I have said too much I fear;  
So dearly once I loved her, that I cannot  
Endure to see her tears. Exiunt. Dionant and Cleremont.  Champ. 
See you perform it,  
And do it like my Nephew.  Verdo. 
If I fail in't  
ne'er know me more, x Beaupre  Champ. 
Repent not  
What thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not find  
I am decrepit; in my love, and service,  
I will be young, and constant, and believe me,  
For thou shall find it true, in scorn of all  
The scandals these rude men have thrown upon me  
I'll meet thy pleasures, with a young man's ardour  
And in all circumstances, of a Husband,  
Perform my parts.  Lamira. 
Good Sir, I am your servant,  
And 'tis too late now, if I did repent,  
(Which as I am a virgin yet, I do not)  
To undo the knot, that by the Church is tied  
Only I would beseech ye, as you have,  
A good opinion of me, and my virtues,  
For so you have pleased to style my innocent weakness,  
That what hath passed between Dinant and me,  
Or what now in your hearing he hath spoken,  
Beget not doubts, or fears.  Champ. 
I apprehend you,  
You think I will be jealous, as I live  
Thou art mistaken sweet; and to confirm it  
Discourse with whom thou wilt, ride where thou wilt,  
Feast whom thou wilt, as often as thou wilt,  
For I will have no other guards upon thee  
Then thine own thoughts,  Lamira. 
I'll use this liberty  
With moderation Sir,  Beaup. 
I am resolved  
Steal off, I'll follow you,  Champ. 
Come Sir, you droop,  
Till you find cause, which I shall never give  
Dislike not of your son in Law,  Verta. 
Sir, You teach me  
The language I should use; I am most happy  
In being so near you. Exeunt Verdone and Beaupre.  Lamira. 
O my fears good nurse  
Follow my Brother unobserved and learn,  
Which way he takes.  Nurs. 
I will be careful Madam. Exit Nurse.  Cham. 
Between us compliments are superfluous,  
One Gentlemen, th' affront we have met here  
we'll think upon hereafter, 'twere unfit  
To cherish any thought to breed unrest,  
Or to ourselves, or to our Nuptial feast.  Exeunt. Enter Dinant and Cleremont. Cler. 
We shall have sport, ner fear't  Din. 
What sport I prithee?  Cler. 
Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't  
It was apparent in the fiery eye,  
Of young Verdoone, Beaupre looked pale and shook too,  
Familiar signs of anger. They are both brave fellows  
Tried and approved, and I am proved to encounter.  
With men, from whom no honour can be lost  
They will play up to a man, and set him off,  
When ere I go to the field, heaven keep me from  
The meeting of an unfleshed youth or Coward,  
The first to get a name, comes on too hot,  
The Coward is so swift in giving ground,  
There is no overtaking him, without  
A hunting Nag, well breathed too.  Din. 
All this while,  
You ne'er think on the danger,  Cler. 
Why 'tis no more,  
Then meeting of a dozen Friends at Supper,  
And drinking hard; mischief comes there unlooked for,  
I am sure as sudden, and strikes home as often,  
For this we are prepared  Din. 
Lamira Loves  
Her Brother Beaupre dearly.  Cler. 
What of that?  Din. 
And should he call me to account for what  
But now I speak, nor can I with mine honour  
Recant my words, that little hope is left me,  
'Ere to enjoy what (next to heaven I long for,)  
Is taken from me,  Cler. 
Why what can you hope for,  
She being now married?  Din. 
On my Cleremont,  
To you all secrets of my heart lie open,  
And I rest most secure that whatsoever  
I look up there, is as a private thought,  
And will no farther wrong me, I am a Frenchman,  
And for the greater part, we are borne Courtiers,  
She is a woman, and however yet,  
No heat of service, had the power to melt  
Her frozen Chastity, time and opportunity  
May work her to my ends, I confess ill ones,  
And yet I must pursue 'em: now her marriage,  
In probability, will no way hurt,  
But rather help me,  Cler. 
Sits the wind there? pray you tell me  
How far off, dwells your love from lust?  Din. 
Too near,  
But prithee chide me not,  Cler. 
Not I, go on boy,  
I have faults myself, and will not reprehend  
A crime I am not free from: for her Marriage,  
I do esteem it (and most bachelors are  
Of my opinion) as a fair protection,  
To play the wanton, without loss of honour.  Din. 
Would she make rise of't so, I were most happy.  Cler. 
No more of this, Judge now,  
Whither I have the gift of prophecy.  Enter Beaupre and Verdoone. Beaup. 
Monsieur Dinant.  
I am glad to find you, Sir.  Din. 
I am at your service.  Verd. 
Good Monsieur Cleremont, I have long wished  
To be known better to you,  Cler. 
My desires  
Embrace your wishes Sir,  Beaup. 
Sir, I have ever  
Esteemed you truly noble, and profess.  
I should have been most proud, to have had the honour,  
To call you Brother, but my Father's pleasure  
Denied that happiness, I know no man lives,  
That can command his passions, and therefore  
Dare not condemn, the late intemperate language  
You were pleased to use, to my Father and my Sister  
he's old and she a woman, I most forty,  
My honour does compel me to entreat you,  
To do me the favour, with your sword to meet me  
A mile without the City.  Din. 
You much honour me.  
In the demand, I'll gladly wait upon you,  Beaup. 
O Sir you teach me what to say: the time?  Din. 
With the next Sun, if you think fit.  Beaup. 
The place.  Din. 
near to the vineyard eastward from the City,  Beaup. 
I like it well, this gentleman if you please  
Will keep me company,  Cler. 
That is agreed on;  
And in my friend's behalf I will attend him  Verd. 
You shall not miss my service.  Beaup. 
Good day Gentlemen. Ex. Beaup. and Virdoone.  Din. 
At your Commandment.  Cler. 
Proved to be your servants,  
I think there is no Nation under heaven  
That cut their enemies' throats with compliment,  
And such fine tricks as we do: If you have  
Any few Prayers to say, this night you may  
call'em to mind and use 'em, for myself,  
As I have little to lose, my care is less,  
So till tomorrow morning, I bequeath you,  
To your devotions; and those paid, but use  
That noble courage I have seen, and we  
Shall fight, as in a Castle,  Din. 
Thou art all honour,  
Thy resolution, would steel a Coward,  
And I most fortunate, in such a Friend,  
All tenderness, and nice respect of woman,  
Be now far from me, reputation take  
A full possession of my heart, and prove  
Honour the first place holds, the second love. Exeunt.  Enter Lamira, Charlote. Lamir. 
Sleeps my Lord still Carlote.  Char. 
Not to be waked  
By your ladyship's cheerful looks, I well perceive  
That this night, the good Lord hath been  
At an unusual service, and no wonder  
If he rest after it  Lamir. 
You are very bold  Char. 
Your Creature Madam and when you are pleased  
Sadness to me's a stranger, your good pardon  
If I speak like a fool, I could have wished,  
To have ta'en your place tonight, had bold Dinant  
Your first and most obsequious servant tasted  
Those delicates, which by his lethargy  
As it appears, have cloyed my Lord,  Lamira. 
No more.  Charl. 
I am silenced Madam  Lamira. 
Saw you my nurse this morning?  Charl. 
No Madam.  Lamira. 
I am full of fears. Knock within.  
Who's that?  Charl. 
She you enquired for  Lamira. 
Bring her in, and leave me. Ex. Charlote. Enter Nurse.  
Now nurse what news.  Nurse. 
O Lady dreadful ones,  
They are to fight this morning, there's no remedy  
I saw my Lord your Brother, and Verdoone.  
Take horse as I came by,  Lamir. 
where's Cleremont?  Nurse. 
I met him too, and mounted.  Lamir. 
where's Dinant?  Nurse. 
There's all the hope, I have stayed him with a trick,  
If I have done well so,  Lamir. 
What trick?  Nurse. 
I 'told him,  
Your Ladyship laid your command upon him,  
To attend you presently, and to confirm it,  
Gave him the ring' he oft hath seen you wear,  
That you bestowed on me; he waits without  
Disguised, and if you have that power in him,  
As I presume you have, it is in you  
To stay or alter him.  Lamir. 
Have you learned the place,  
Where they are to encounter?  Nurse. 
Yes 'tis where  
The Duke of burgundy, met Lewis th' eleventh  Lamir. 
Enough I will reward thee liberally, Ex. Nurse.  
Go bring him in, full dear I loved Dinant,  
While it was lawful, but those fires are quenched,  
I being now another's, truth forgive me  
And let dissimulation, be no crime,  
Though most unwillingly, I put it on  
To guard a Brother's safety.  Enter Dinant. Dina. 
Now your pleasure,  
Though ill you have deserved it, you perceived  
I am still your fool, and cannot but obey  
whatever you command  Lamir. 
You speak as if  
You did repent it and 'tis not worth my thanks then,  
But there has been a time, in which you would  
Receive this as a favour  Din. 
Hope was left then  
Of recompense.  Lamir. 
Why I am still Lamira.  
And you Dinant and 'tis yet in my power  
I dare not say, I'll put it into act,  
To reward your love and service,  Din. 
there's some comfort,  Lamir. 
But think not that so low I prize my fame,  
To give it up to any man that refuses  
To buy it, or with danger or performance  
Of what I shall enjoin him,  Din. 
Name that danger  
Be it of what horrid shape soever Lady  
Which I will shrink at; only at this instant  
Be speedy in't  Lamir. 
I'll put you to the trial:  
You shall not fight today, do you start at that?  
Not with my Brother, I have heard your difference,  
Mine is no Helen's beauty, to be purchased  
With blood, and so defended if you look for  
Favours from me, deserve them with obedience,  
there's no way else to gain 'em  Din. 
You command  
What with mine honour I cannot obey  
Which lies at pawn against it and a friend  
Equally dear as that, or life engaged,  
Not for himself, but me.  Lamir. 
Why, foolish man,  
Dare you solicit me, to serve your lust,  
In which not only, I abuse my Lord,  
My father, and my family, but write whore,  
Though not upon my forehead, in my conscience,  
To be read hourly, and yet name your honours?  
Yours suffer but in circumstance; mine in substance,  
If you obey me, you part with some credit,  
From whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind  
Will censure me, and justly  Din. 
I will lose,  
What most I do desire, rather than hazard  
So dear a friend, or write myself a coward,  
'Tis better be no man  Lamir. 
This will not do;  
Why I desire not, you should be a coward,  
Nor do I weigh my Brother's life with yours,  
Meet him, fight with him, do, and kill him fairly,  
Let me not suffer for you, I am careless.  Din. 
Suffer for me?  Lamir. 
For you, my kindness to you,  
Already brands me, with a strumpet's name,  Din. 
O that I knew the wretch!  Lamir. 
I will not name him,  
Nor give you any Character to know him;  
But if you dare, and instantly ride forth  
At the west port of the City, and defend there  
My reputation, against all you meet,  
For two hours on lie, I'll not swear Dinant,  
To satisfy, (though sure I think I shall)  
whatever you desire, if you deny this  
Be desperate, for willingly, by this light,  
I'll never see thee more  Din. 
Two hours, do you say?  Lamir. 
Only two hours,  Dina. 
I were no Gentleman,  
Should I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,  
And boldly ill 'perform it. Exit.  Lamir. 
I am glad on't.  
This will prevent their meeting yet, and keep  
My Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. Exeunt.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Cleremont, as in the field. Cler. 
I am first i'th' field that honours gained of our side  
Pray Heaven I may get of as honourably,  
The hour is past, I wonder Dinant comes not,  
This is the place, I cannot see him yet;  
It is his quarrel too, that brought me hither,  
And I ne'er knew him yet, but to this honour,  
A firm and worthy Friend, yet I see nothing,  
Nor Horse nor man; 'twould vex me, to be left here,  
To th' mercy of two swords, and two approved ones  
I never knew him last.  Enter Beaupre and Verdoone. Beaup. 
You are well met Cleremont.  Verdo. 
You are a fair Gentleman, & love your friend Sir  
What are you ready the time has over ta'en us?  Beaup. 
And this you know the place.  Cler. 
No Dinant yet?  Beaup. 
We come not now to argue, but to do;  
We wait you Sir,  Cler. 
there's no time past yet. Gentlemen,  
We have day enough: is't possible he comes not?  
You see I am ready here, and do but stay,  
Till my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,  
'Twill not be long.  Verd. 
We came to fight.  Cler. 
Ye shall fight Gentlemen,  
And fight enough, but a short turn or two  
I think I see him, set up your watch, we'll fight by it.  Beau. 
That is not he; we will not be deluded.  Cler. 
Am I bobbed thus, pray take a pipe of tobacco?  
Or sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen—  Verd. 
Come draw your sword, you know the custom here Sir  
First come, first served  Cler. 
Though it be held a custom,  
And practised so, I do not hold it honest;  
What honour can you both win on me single?  Beaup. 
Yield up you sword then.  Cler. 
Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew;  
I'll be first cut a pieces; hold but a while,  
I'll take the next that comes,  Enter an old Gentleman. 
You are an old Gentleman.  Gent. 
Yes indeed am I, Sir,  Cler. 
And wear no Sword?  Gent. 
I need none; Sir,  Cler. 
I would you did, and had one;  
I want now such a foolish courtesy  
You see these Gentlemen;  Gent. 
You want a second.  
In good Faith Sir, I was never handsome at it,  
I would you had my Son, but he's in Italy,  
A proper Gentleman; you may do well gallants  
If you quarrel be not capital, to have more mercy,  
The Gentleman may do his Country—  Cler. 
Now I beseech you, Sir,  
If you dare not fight, do not stay to beg my pardon,  
There lies your way.  Gent. 
Good morrow Gentlemen. Exit.  Verd. 
You see your fortune,  
You had better yield your sword.  Cler. 
Pray ye stay a little  Enter two Gentlemen. 
Upon mine honesty, you shall be fought with;  
Well, Dinant, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows  
As you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me  
I want a second now to meet these gallants,  
You know what honour is,  1 Gent. 
Sir you must pardon us,  
We go about the same work, you are ready for;  
And must fight presently, else we were your servants,  2 Gent. 
God speed you and good day. Exit Gent.  Cler. 
Am I thus Colted?  Beaup. 
Come either yield—  Cler. 
As you are honest Gentlemen,  
Stay but the next, and then I'll take my fortune,  
And if I fight not like a man— Fie Dinant,  
Cold now and treacherous,  Enter Monsieur la Writ within. La Writ. 
I understand your causes.  
Yours about corn, yours about pins and glasses,  
Will you make me mad, have I not all the parcels?  
And his Petition too, about Bell-founding?  
Send in your witnesses, what will you have me do?  
Will you have me break my heart? my brains are melted;  
And tell your Master, as I am a gentleman,  
His Cause shall be the first, commend me to your Mistress,  
And tell her, if there be an extraordinary feather,  
And tall enough for her: I shall dispatch you too,  
I know your Cause, for transporting of Farthingales  
Trouble me no more, I say, again to you,  
No more vexation: bid my wife send me some puddings;  
I have a Cause to run through, requires puddings,  
Puddings enough. Farewell.  Cler. 
God speed you, sir.  Beaup. 
Would he would take this fellow.  Verd. 
A rare Youth.  Cler. 
If you be not hasty, sir.  La-writ. 
Yes, I am hasty,  
Exceeding hasty, sir, I am going to the Parliament,  
You understand this bag, if you have any business  
Depending there, be short, and let me hear it,  
And pay your Fees.  Cler. 
'Faith, sir, I have a business,  
But it depends upon no Parliament.  La-writ. 
I have no skill in't then.  Cler. 
I must desire you,  
'Tis a Sword matter, sir.  La-writ. 
I am no Cutler,  
I am an Advocate, sir.  Beau. 
How the thing looks?  Verd. 
When he brings him to fight.  Cler. 
Be not so hasty,  
You wear a good Sword.  La-writ, 
I know not that,  
I never drew it yet, or whether it be a Sword—  Cler. 
I must entreat you try, sir, and bear a part  
Against these Gentlemen, I want a second;  
Ye seem a man, and 'tis a noble office.  La-writ. 
I am a Lawyer, sir, I am no fighter.  Cler. 
You that breed quarrels, sir, know best to satisfy.  Beau. 
This is some sport yet.  Verd. 
If this fellow should fight.  La-writ. 
And for any thing I know, I am an arrant coward,  
Do not trust me, I think I am a coward.  Cler. 
Try, try, you are mistaken: walk on gentlemen,  
The man shall follow presently.  La-writ. 
Are ye mad gentleman?  
My business is within this half hour,  Cler. 
That's all one,  
We'll dispatch within this quarter, there in that bottom,  
'Tis most convenient gentlemen.  Beau. 
Well, we'll wait, sir.  Verd. 
Why this will be a comic fight, you'll follow.  La-w. 
As I am a true man, I cannot fight. Ex. Beaup. Verdone.  Cler. 
Away, away,  
I know you can: I like your modesty,  
I know you will fight, and so fight, with such mettle,  
And with such judgement, meet your enemy's fury;  
I see it in your eye, sir.  La-writ. 
I'll be hanged then;  
And I charge you, in the king's name, name no more fighting.  Cler. 
I charge you in the king's name play the man,  
Which if you do not quickly, I begin with you,  
I'll make you dance, do you see your fiddle stick?  
Sweet Advocate thou shalt fight.  La-writ. 
Stand farther gentleman.  
Or I'll give you such a dust o'th' chaps—  Cler. 
Spoke bravely,  
And like thyself, a noble Advocate:  
Come to thy tools.  La-writ. 
I do not say I'll fight.  Cler. 
I say thou shalt, and bravely.  La-writ. 
If I do fight;  
I say, if I do, but do not depend upon't,  
And yet I have a foolish itch upon me,  
What shall become of my Writings?  Cler. 
Let 'em lie by,  
They will not run away, man.  La-writ. 
I may be killed too,  
And where are all my causes then? my business?  
I will not fight, I cannot fight, my Causes—  Cler. 
Thou shalt fight, if thou hadst a thousand causes,  
Thou art a man to fight for any cause,  
And carry it with honour.  La-writ. 
Hum I say you so? if I should  
Be such a coxcomb to prove valiant now—  Cler. 
I know thou art most valiant.  La-writ. 
Do you think so?  
I am undone for ever, if it prove so,  
I tell you that, my honest friend, for ever;  
For I shall ne'er leave quarrelling.  
How long must we fight? for I cannot stay,  
Nor will not stay, I have business.  Cler. 
We'll do't in a minute in a moment.  La-writ. 
Here will I hang my bag then, it may save my belly,  
I never loved cold iron there.  Cler. 
You do wisely.  La-writ. 
Help me to pluck my sword out then, quickly, quickly,  
'T has not seen Sun these ten years.  Cler. 
How it grumbles?  
This Sword is vengeance angry.  La-writ. 
Now I'll put my hat up,  
And say my prayers as I go; away boy,  
If I be killed, remember the little Lawyer. Exeunt.  Enter Beaupre. Beaup. 
They are both come on, that may be a stubborn rascal,  
Take you that ground, Enter La-writ.  
I'll stay here, fight bravely.  La-wr. 
To't cheerfully my boys, you'll let's have fair play,  
None of your foining tricks.  Beau. 
Come forward Monsieur; Fight.  
What hast thou there? a pudding in thy belly?  
I shall see what it holds.  La-writ. 
Put your spoon home then:  
Nay, since I must fight, have at you without wit, sir:  
God a mercy bag.  Beau. 
Nothing but bombast in ye?  
The rogue winks and fights.  La-wr. 
Now your fine fencing, sir: Beau. loses his sword, La. writ treads on it.  
Stand off, thou diest on point else,  
I have it, I have it: yet further off:  
I have his Sword.  Beau. 
Then keep it, be sure you keep it.  La-writ. 
I'll put it in my mouth else.  
Stand further off yet, and stand quietly,  
And look another way, or I'll be with you.  
Is this all? I'll undertake within these two days  
To furnish any Cutler in this Kingdom.  Beau. 
Pox, what a fortune's this? disarmed by a puppy?  
A snail? a dog?  La-Writ. 
No more o'these words Gentleman,  
Sweet gentleman no more, do not provoke me,  
Go walk i'th' horse fair; whistle gentleman,  
What must I do now?  Enter Cleremont, pursued by Verdoone. Cler. 
Help me, I am almost breathless.  La-writ. 
With all my heart there's a cold pie for you, sir.  Cler. 
Thou strik'st me, fool.  La-writ. 
Thou fool, stand further off then,  
Deliver, deliver.  Cler. 
Hold fast. He strikes up the others heels, and takes his Sword too.  La-writ. 
I never fail in't  
There's twelve pence, go buy you two leaden Daggers,  
Have I done well?  Cler. 
Most like a gentleman.  Beau. 
And we two basely lost.  Verd. 
'Tis but a fortune,  
We shall yet find an hour. Ex. Beau. Verdoone sad.  Cler. 
I shall be glad on't.  La-writ. 
Where's my cloak, and my trinkets?  
Or will you sight any longer, for a crash or two?  Cler. 
I am your noble friend, sir.  La-writ. 
It may be so.  Cler. 
What honour shall I do you,  
For this great courtesy?  La-writ. 
All I desire of ye,  
Is to take the quarrel to yourself, and let me hear no more on't  
I have no liking to't, 'tis a foolish matter,  
And help me to put up my Sword.  Cler. 
Most willingly.  
But I am bound to gratify you, and I must not leave you.  La-writ. 
I tell you, I will not be gratified,  
Nor I will hear no more on't: take the Swords too,  
And do not anger me but leave me quietly.  
For the matter of honour, 'tis at your own disposure,  
And so, and so,  Cler. 
This is a most rare Lawyer:  
I am sure most valiant. Well Dinant as you satisfy me,  
I say no more: I am laden like an Armourer. Exit. Cler.  Enter Dinant. Din. 
To be dispatched upon a sleeveless errand?  
To leave my friend engaged, mine honour tainted?  
These are trim things. I am set here like a Perdue,  
To watch a fellow, that has wronged my Mistress,  
A scurvy fellow, that must pass this way,  
But what this scurvy fellow is, or whence,  
Or whether his name be William or John,  
Or Anthony or Dick or any thing, I know not;  
A scurvy rascally fellow. I must aim at,  
And there's the office of an Ass flung on me.  
Sure Cleremont has fought, but how come off,  
And what the world shall think of me hereafter:  
Well, woman, woman. I must look your rascals,  
And lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us.  
These two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously  
Surveyed all goers by, yet find no rascal,  
Nor any face to quarrel with: La-writ sings within then Enters.  
What's that?  
This is a rascally voice sure it comes this way.  La-writ. 
He struck so hard the Basin broke,  
And Tarquin heard the sound.  Din. 
What master thing is this? let me survey it.  La-writ. 
And then he struck his neck in two.  Din. 
This may be a rascal, but 'tis a mad rascal,  
What an Alphabet of faces he puts on?  
hay how it fences? if this should be the rogue,  
As 'tis the likeliest rogue. I see this day—  Lawr. 
Was ever man for ladies' sake? down, down.  Di. 
And what are you good sir? down, down, down, down.  La-wr. 
What's that to you, good sir? down, down.  Din. 
A pox on you good, sir, down, down, down,  
You with your Buckram bag, what make you here?  
And from whence come you? I could fight with my shadow now.  La-w. 
Thou fierce man, that like sir Lancelot dost appear,  
I need not tell thee what I am, nor eke what I make here.  Din. 
This is a precious knave, stay, stay, good Tristram,  
And let me ask thy mightiness a question,  
Did ye never abuse a Lady?  La-writ. 
Not; to abuse a Lady, is very hard, sir,  Din. 
Say you so, sir?  
Didst thou never abuse her honour?  La-writ. 
Not; to abuse her honour, is impossible.  Din. 
Certain this is the rascal: What's thy name?  La-writ. 
My name is Cock a two, use me respectively,  
I will be Cock of three else.  Din. 
What's all this?  
You say, you did abuse a Lady;  La-writ. 
You lie.  Din. 
And that you wronged her honour.  La-writ. 
That's two lies,  
Speak suddenly, for I am full of business.  Din. 
What art thou, or what canst thou be, thou peagoose,  
That dar'st give me the  thus? thou mak'st me wonder.  Law. 
And wonder on, till time makes all this plain.  Din. 
You must not part so, sir, art thou a gentleman?  La-w. 
Ask those, upon whose ruins, I am mounted.  Din. 
This is some cavaliero Knight o'th' Sun.  La-w. 
I tell thee, I am as good a gentleman as the Duke;  
I have achieved— go follow thy business.  Din. 
But for this Lady, sir—  La-writ. 
Why, hang this Lady, sir,  
And the Lady Mother too, sir, what have I to do with Ladies?  Enter Cleremont. Cler. 
'Tis the little lawyer's voice: has he got my way?  
It should be hereabouts.  Din. 
Ye dry biscuit rogue,  
I will so swinge you for this blasphemy—  
Have I found you out?  Cler. 
That should be dinant's tongue too.  La-w. 
And I defy thee, do thy worst: o ho quoth Lancelot tho.  
And that thou shalt know, I am a true gentleman,  
And speak according to the phrase triumphant;  
Thy Lady, is a scurvy Lady, and a shitten Lady,  
And though I never heard of her, a debauched Lady,  
And thou, a squire of low degree; will that content thee?  
Dost thou waylay me with Ladies? A pretty sword, sir,  
A very pretty sword, I have a great mind to't.  Din. 
You shall not lose your longing, rogue.  Cler. 
Hold, hold,  
Hold Dinant, as thou art a gentleman.  La-writ. 
As much as you will, my hand is in now.  Cler. 
I am your friend, sir: Dinant you draw your sword  
Upon the gentleman, preserved your honour:  
This was my second and did back me nobly,  
For shame forbear.  Din. 
I ask your mercy, sir, and am your servant now.  La-writ. 
May we not fight then?  Cler. 
I am sure you shall not now.  La-w. 
I am sorry for't I am sure I'll stay no longer then.  
Not a jot longer: are there any more on ye afore?  
I will sing still, sir. Exit La-writ,  Din. 
I look now you should chide me, and 'Tis sir,  
And with much bitterness, express your anger,  
I have deserved: yet when you know—.  Cler. 
I thank ye,  
Do you think, that the wrong you have offered me,  
The most unmanly wrong, unfriendly wrong—  Din. 
I do confess—  Cler. 
That boyish sleight—  Din. 
Not so, sir.  Cler. 
That poor, and base renouncing of your honour,  
Can be allayed with words?  Din. 
I give you way still.  Cler. 
Coloured with smooth excuses? Was it a friend's part,  
A gentleman's, a man's that wears a Sword,  
And stands upon the point of reputation,  
To hide his head, then, when his honour called him?  
Called him aloud, and lead him to his fortune?  
To halt and slip the collar? by my life,  
I would have given my life, I had never known thee,  
Thou hast eaten Canker-like into my judgement  
With this disgrace, my whole life, cannot heal again.  Din. 
This I can suffer too, I find it honest.  Cler. 
Can you pretend an excuse now may absolve you,  
Or any thing like honest, to bring you off?  
Engage me like an Ass?  Din. 
Will you but hear me?  Cler. 
Expose me like a Jade, to tug, and hale through,  
Laughed at, and almost hooted? your disgraces,  
Invite men's Swords, and angers to dispatch me.  Din. 
If you will be patient.  Cler. 
And be abused still: But that I have called thee friend,  
And to that name, allow a Sanctuary,  
You should hear further from me, I would not talk thus:  
But henceforth stand upon your own bottom, sir,  
And bear your own abuses, I scorn my sword  
Should travel in so poor and empty quarrels.  Din. 
Ha, you done yet? take your whole swinge of anger,  
I'll bear all with content.  Cler. 
Why were you absent?  Din. 
You know I am no Coward, you have seen that,  
And therefore, out of fear, forsook you not:  
You know I am not false, of a treacherous nature,  
Apt to betray my friend I have fought for you too;  
You know no business, that concerned my state,  
My kindred, or my life.  Cler. 
Where was the fault then?  Din. 
The honour of that Lady I adore  
Her credit, and her name: ye know she sent for me,  
And with what haste.  Cler. 
What was he that traduced?  Din. 
The man i'th' Moon, I think, hither I was sent,  
But to what end—  Enter old Lady. Cler. 
This is a pretty flim-flam.  O. La. 
I am glad I have met you sir, I have been seeking,  
And seeking everywhere.  Cler. 
And now you have found him,  
Declare that business, our Ambassador.  O. Lady. 
What's that to ye good man flouter? O sir, my Lady.  Din. 
Prithee no more of thy Lady, I have too much on't.  Cler. 
Let me have a little, speak to me.  Old Lady. 
To you sir?  
'Tis more than time: All occasions set aside sir,  
Or whatsoever may be thought a business—  Din. 
What then?  Old Lady. 
Repair to me within this hour.  Cler. 
Where?  O. Lady. 
What's that to you? come you, sir, when you're sent for.  Cler. 
God a mercy Mumpsimus,  
You may go Dinant, and follow this old Fairy,  
Till you have lost yourself, your friends, your credit,  
And honey out your youth, in rare adventures,  
I can but grieve, I have known you.  Old Lady. 
Will ye go sir?  
I come not often to you with these blessings,  
You may believe that thing there, and repent it,  
That dogged thing,  Cler. 
Peace touchwood.  Din. 
I will not go:  
Go bid your Lady seek some fool, to fawn on her  
Some unexperienced puppy, to make sport with,  
I have been her mirth too long, thus I shake from me  
The fetters she put on; thus her enchantments  
I blow away like wind, no more her beauty.  Old Lady. 
Take heed sir, what you say.  Cler. 
Go forward, Dinant.  Din. 
The charms shot from her eyes—  O. Lady. 
Be wise.  Cler. 
Be Valiant.  Din. 
That tongue that tells fair tales to men's destructions  
Shall never rack me more.  Old Lady. 
Stay there.  Cler. 
Go forward.  Din. 
I will now hear her, see her as a woman,  
Survey her and the power man has allowed, sir,  
As I would do the course of common things,  
Unmoved, unstruck.  Cler. 
Hold there, and I forgive thee.  Din. 
She is not fair, and that that makes her proud,  
Is not her own, our eyes bestow it on her,  
To touch and kiss her, is no blessedness,  
A Sunburnt Ethiopes lip's as soft as hers.  
Go bid her stick some other triumph up,  
And take into her favour some dull fool,  
That has no precious time to lose, no friends,  
No honour, nor no life, like a bold Merchant,  
A bold and bankrupt man, I have ventured all these,  
And split my bottom: return this answer to her,  
I am awake again, and see her mischiefs,  
And am not now, on every idle errand,  
And now coined anger, to be hurried,  
And then despised again, I have forgot her.  Cler. 
If this be true—  O. Lady. 
I am sorry, I have troubled you,  
More sorry, that my Lady has adventured  
So great a favour, in so weak a mind:  
This hour you have refused, that when you come to know it,  
Will run you mad, and make you curse that fellow,  
She is not fair, nor handsome, so I leave you.  Cler. 
Stay Lady, stay, but is there such a business?  O. Lady. 
You would break your neck 'twere yours.  Cler. 
My back, you would say.  O. La. 
But play the friends part still, sir, and undo him,  
'Tis a fair office.  Din. 
I have spoke too liberally.  O. Lady. 
I shall deliver what you say.  Cler. 
You shall be hanged first,  
You would fain be prating now; take the man with you.  O. Lady. 
Not I, I have no power.  Cler. 
You may go Dinant.  O. Lady. 
'Tis in's own will, I had no further charge, sir,  
Then to tell him what I did, which if I had thought  
It should have been received so—  Cler. 
'Faith you may,  
You do not know, how far it may concern you.  
If I perceived any trick in't.  Din. 
'Twill end there.  Cler. 
'Tis my fault then, there is an hour in fortune,  
That must be still observed: you think I'll chide you,  
When things must be, nay see, an he will hold his head up?  
Would such a Lady send with such a charge too?  
Say she has played the fool, play the fool with her again,  
The great fool, the greater still the better,  
He shall go with you woman.  Old Lady. 
As it please him,  
I know the way alone else.  Din. 
Where is your Lady?  O. Lady. 
I shall direct you quickly.  Din. 
Well, I'll go,  
But what her wrongs, will give me leave to say.  Cler. 
We'll leave that to yourselves: I shall hear from you.  Din. 
As soon as I come off—  Cler. 
Come on then bravely;  
Farewell till then, and play the man.  Din. 
You are merry;  
All I expect is scorn: I'll lead you Lady.  Exeunt severally.   

Actus tertius.  

Scena prima.  Enter Champernell, Lamira, Beaupre, Verdoone, Chailote. Beaup. 
We'll venture on him.  Cham. 
Out of my doors I charge thee, see me no more.  Lam. 
Your Nephew?  Cham. 
I disclaim him.  
He has no part in me, nor in my blood,  
My Brother that kept fortune bound, and left  
Conquest hereditary to his Issue  
Could not beget a coward.  Verd. 
I fought, sir,  
Like a good fellow, and a soldier too,  
But men are men, and cannot make their fates:  
Ascribe you to my Father, what you please,  
I am borne to suffer.  Cham. 
All disgrace: wretch.  Lam. 
Good sir be patient.  Cham. 
Was there no tree,  
(For to fall by a noble enemy's sword,  
A Coward is unworthy) nor no River,  
To force thy life out backward, or to drown it,  
But that thou must survive thy infamy?  
And kill me, with the sight of one I hate?  
And gladly would forget?  Beaup. 
Sir, his misfortune  
Deserves not this reproof.  Cham. 
In your opinion,  
'Tis fit you two should be of one belief,  
You are indeed, fine gallants, and fight bravely  
I'th' City with your tongues, but in the field  
Have neither spirit to dare, nor power to do,  
Your swords, are all led there.  Beaup. 
I know no duty,  
( however you may wreak your spleen on him)  
That binds me to endure this.  Cham. 
From Dinant  
You'll suffer more; that ever cursed I,  
Should give my honour up, to the defence  
Of such a thing as he is, or my Lady  
That is all Innocent, for whom a dove would  
Assume the courage of a daring Eagle,  
Repose her confidence in one that can  
No better guard her. In contempt of you  
I love Dinant, mine enemy, nay admire him,  
His valour claims it from me, and with justice,  
He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest,  
His sword edged with defence, of right and honour,  
Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed too,  
And kill as deadly.  Verd. 
You are as far from Justice,  
In him you praise, as equity in the censure,  
You load me with.  Beaup. 
Dinant? he durst not meet us.  Lam. 
How? durst not brother?  Beaup. 
Durst not, I repeat it;  Verdo. 
Nor was it Cleremont's valour that disarmed us,  
I had the better of him; for Dinant,  
If that might make my peace with you, I dare  
Write him a Coward, upon every post,  
And with the hazard of my life defend it.  Lam. 
If 'twere laid at the stake, you'd lose it, Nephew.  Cham. 
Came he not, say you?  Verd. 
No, but in his room,  
There was a devil, hired from some Magician  
I'th' shape of an Attorney.  Beau. 
'Twas he did it.  Verd. 
And his the honour.  Beau. 
I could wish Dinant—  
But what talk I of one that stepped aside,  
And durst not come?  Lam. 
I am such a friend to truth,  
I cannot hear this: why do you detract  
Thus poorly (I should say to others basely)  
From one, of such approved worth?  Cham. 
Ha! how's this?  Lam. 
From one so excellent, in all that's noble,  
Whose only weakness, is excess of courage?  
That knows no enemies, that he cannot master,  
But his affections, and in them, the worst  
His love to me.  Cham. 
To you?  Lam. 
Yes, sir to me,  
I dare (for what is that, which Innocence dares not)  
To you profess it, and he shunned the Combat  
For fear, or doubt of these: blush and repent,  
That you in thought, ere did that wrong to valour.  Beau. 
Why, this is rare.  Cham. 
'Fore heaven, exceeding rare;  
Why modest Lady, you that sing such Encomiums  
Of your first Suitor—  Verd. 
How can ye convince us  
In our reports?  Lam. 
With what you cannot answer,  
'Twas my command that stayed him.  Cham. 
Your command?  Lam. 
Mine, sir, and had my will ranked with my power,  
And his obedience, I could have sent him  
With more ease, weaponless to you, and bound,  
Then have kept him back, so well he loves his honour  
Beyond his life.  Cham. 
Better, and better still,  Lam. 
I wrought with him in private to divert him  
From your assured destruction, had he met you.  Cham. 
In private?  Lam. 
Yes, and used all Arts, all Charms,  
Of one that knew herself the absolute Mistress  
Of all his faculties.  Cham. 
Gave all rewards too  
His service could deserve; did not he take  
The measure of my sheets?  Lam. 
Do not look yellow,  
I have cause to speak; frowns cannot fright me,  
By all my hopes, as I am spotless to you,  
If I rest once assured, you do but doubt me,  
Or curb me of that freedom, you once gave me—  Cham. 
What then?  Lam. 
I'll not alone, abuse your bed, that's nothing,  
But to your more vexation, 'tis resolved on,  
I'll run away, and then try if Dinant  
Have courage to defend me.  Champ. 
Impudent!  Verdo. 
And on the sudden—  Beau. 
How are ye transformed,  
From what you were?  Lam. 
I was an innocent Virgin,  
And I can truly swear, a Wife as pure  
As ever lay by Husband, and will die so,  
Let me live unsuspected, I am no servant,  
Nor will be used like one: If you desire  
To keep me constant, as I would be, let  
Trust and belief in you, beget, and nurse it;  
Unnecessary jealousies, make more whores  
Than all baits else, laid to entrap our frailties.  Beau. 
There's no contesting with her, from a child  
Once moved, she hardly was to be appeased,  
Yet I dare swear her honest.  Cham. 
So I think too,  
On better judgement: I am no Italian  
To lock her up; nor would I be a Dutchman,  
To have my Wife, my sovereign, to command me:  
I'll try the gentler way, but if that fail,  
Believe it, Sir, there's nothing but extremes,  
Which she must feel from me.  Beau. 
That, as you please, sir.  Charl. 
You have won the breeches, Madam, look up sweetly,  
My Lord limps toward you.  Lam. 
You will learn more manners.  Charl. 
This is a fee, for counsel that's unasked for.  Cham. 
Come, I mistook thee sweet, prithee forgive me,  
I never will be jealous: ere I cherish  
Such a mechanic humour; I'll be nothing;  
I'll say Dinant, is all that thou wouldst have him,  
Will that suffice?  Lam. 
'Tis well, sir.  Champ. 
Use thy freedom  
Unchecked, and unobserved, if thou wilt have it,  
These shall forget their honour, I my wrongs  
We'll all dote on him, hell be my reward  
If I dissemble.  Lam. 
And that hell take me  
If I affect him, he's a lustful villain,  
(But yet no coward) and solicits me  
To my dishonour, that's indeed a quarrel,  
And truly mine, which I will so revenge,  
As it shall fright, such as dare only think  
To be adulterers.  Cham. 
Use thine own ways,  
I give up all to thee.  Beau. 
O women, women!  
When you are pleased you are the least of evils.  Verd. 
I'll rhyme to't, but provoked, the worst of devils.  Exeunt. Enter monsieur Sampson, and three Clients. Samp. 
I know monsieur Lawrit.  1 Cly. 
Would he knew himself, Sir.  Samp. 
He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer.  
Of a kind, of unable thing.  2 Cly. 
A fine Lawyer, Sir,  
And would have firked you up a business,  
And out of this Court into that.  Samp. 
Ye are too forward,  
Not so fine my friends, something he could have done,  
But short, short.  1 Cly. 
I know your worship's favour,  
You are Nephew to the Judge, Sir.  Samp. 
It may be so,  
And something may be done, without trotting i'th' dirt, friends;  
It may be I can take him in his Chamber,  
And have an hour's talk, it may be so,  
And tell him that in's ear, there are such courtesies:  
I will not say, I can.  3 Cly. 
We know you can, sir.  Sam. 
Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's Lawrit?  
where's your sufficient Lawyer?  1 Cly. 
He's blown up, Sir.  2 Cly. 
Run mad, and quarrels, with the dog he meets;  
He is no Lawyer, of this world now.  Samp. 
Your reason?  
Is he defunct? is he dead?  2 Cly. 
No, he's not dead yet, sir;  
But I would be loath to take a lease on's life for two hours:  
Alas, he is possessed sir, with the spirit of fighting,  
And quarrels with all people; but how he came to it—  Samp. 
If he fight well, and like a Gentleman,  
The man may fight, for 'tis a lawful calling.  
Look you my friends, I am a civil Gentleman,  
And my Lord my Uncle loves me.  3 Cly. 
We all know it, sir.  Sam. 
I think he does, sir, I have business too, much business,  
Turn you some forty or fifty Causes in a week;  
Yet when I get an hour of vacancy,  
I can fight too my friends, a little does well,  
I would be loath to learn to fight.  1 Cly. 
But and't please you, sir,  
His fighting has neglected all our business,  
We are undone, our causes cast away, sir,  
His not appearance.  Sam. 
There he fought too long  
A little, & fight well, he fought too long indeed friends;  
But ne'er the less, things must be, as they may,  
And there be ways—  1 Cly. 
We know, sir, if you please—  Sam. 
Something I'll do; go rally up your Causes.  Enter La-writ, and a Gentleman at the door. 2 Cly. 
Now you may behold sir,  
And be a witness, whether we lie or no.  La-writ. 
I'll meet you at the Ordinary, sweet Gentlemen,  
And if there be a wench or two—  Gent. 
We'll have 'em.  La-wr. 
No handling any Duels before I come,  
We'll have no going less, I hate a coward.  Gent. 
There shall be nothing done.  La-wr. 
Make all the quarrels  
You can devise before I come, and let's all fight,  
There is no sport else.  Gent. 
We'll see what may be done, sir,  1 Cly. 
Ha? monsieur Lawrit?  La-Wr. 
Baffled in way of business,  
My causes cast away, Judgement against us?  
Why there it goes  2 Cli. 
What shall we do the whilst Sir?  La-Wr. 
Breed new dissensions, go hang yourselves  
'Tis allo ne to me; I have a new trade of living.  1 Cli. 
Do you hear what he says Sir?  Sam. 
The Gentleman, speaks finely  La Wr. 
Will any of you fight? Fightings my occupation  
If you find yourselves aggrieved;  Sam. 
A complete Gentleman.  La-Wr. 
Avaunt thou buckram budget of petitions,  
Thou spital of lame causes; I lament for thee,  
And till revenge be taken—  Sam. 
'Tis most excellent.  La-Wr. 
There every man choose his paper, and his place.  
I'll answer ye all, I will neglect no man's business  
But he shall have satisfaction like a Gentleman,  
The Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur  Sam. 
You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir,  La-Wr. 
I know not Sir,  
But you may put any thing in, any fighting thing  Sam. 
It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.  La-Wr. 
I rest your servant Sir,  Sam. 
No more words Gentlemen  
But follow me, no more words as you love me,  
The Gentlemans, a noble Gentleman.  
I shall do what I can, and then—  Cli. 
We thank you Sir, Exit Sam. and Clients.  Sam. 
Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.  La-Wr. 
No cause go? oh my side the judge cast all?  
And because I was honourably employed in action,  
And not appeared, pronounce? 'tis very well,  
'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.  Enter Cleremont. Cler. 
Who have we here?  
My little furious Lawyer?  La-Wr. 
I say 'tis well,  
But mark the end.  Cler. 
How he is metamorphized?  
Nothing of Lawyer left not a bit of buckram,  
No soliciting face now,  
This is no simple conversion  
Your servant Sir, and Friend.  La-Wr. 
You come in time, Sir,  Cler. 
The happier man, to be at your command then.  La-Wr. 
You may wonder to see me thus; but that's all one  
Time shall declare; 'tis true I was a Lawyer,  
But I have mend that coat, I hate a Lawyer,  
I talked much in the Court, now I hate talking  
I did you the office of a man.  Cler. 
I must confess it,  La-wr. 
And budged not, no I budged not  Cler. 
No, ye did not,  La-wr. 
there's it then, one good turn requires another  Cler. 
Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service  La-wr. 
There read, and understand, & then deliver it  Cler. 
This is a challenge Sir,  La-wr. 
'Tis very like Sir,  
I seldom now write Sonnets  Cler. 
O admirantis,  
To Monsieur Vertaigne the precedent,  La-wr. 
I choose no fool sir,  Cler. 
Why he's no sword man Sir,  La-wr. 
Let him learn, let him learn,  
Time that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly  Cler. 
Why he's a Judge, an old man.  La-wr. 
Never too old.  
To be a Gentleman; and he that is a judge  
Can judge best what belongs to wounded honour;  
There are my griefs he has cast away my causes,  
In which he has bowed my reputation.  
And therefore Judge, or no Judge,  Cler. 
Pray be ruled Sir,  
This is the maddest thing—  La-wr. 
You will not carry it,  Cler. 
I do not tell you so, but if you may be persuaded  La-wr. 
You know how you used me, when I would not fight,  
Do you remember Gentleman?  Cler. 
The Devils in him.  La-wr. 
I see it in your eyes, that you dare it  
You have a carrying face, and you shall carry it,  Cler. 
The least is banishment  La-wr. 
Be banished then;  
'Tis a friend's part, we'll meet in Africa,  
Or any corner of the earth.  Cler. 
Say he will not fight,  La-wr. 
I know then what to say take you no care Sir,  Cler. 
Well, I will carry it, and deliver it,  
And tomorrow morning meet you in the lover,  
Till when, my service,  La-Wr. 
A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge. Exit La-wr.  Cler. 
This is the prettiest Rogue that 'ere I read of,  
None to provoke toth' field, but the old precedent;  
What face shall I put on? if I come in earnest,  
I am sure to wear a pair of bracelets;  
This may make some sport yet, I will deliver it  
Here comes the precedent.  Enter Vertaigne with two Gentlemen. Vert. 
I shall find time Gentlemen,  
To do your causes good, is not that Cleremont.  1 Gent. 
'Tis he my Lord?  Vert. 
Why does he smile upon me?  
Am I become ridiculous? has your fortune Sir  
Upon my son made you contemn his Father?  
The glory of a Gentleman, is fair bearing,  Cler. 
Mistake me not my Lord, you shall not find that;  
I come with no blown spirit to abuse you,  
I know your place, and honour due unto it,  
The reverence to your silver age and virtue,  Vert. 
Your face is merry still.  Cler. 
So is my business,  
And I beseech your honour, mistake me not  
I have brought you from a wild, or rather mad man  
As mad a piece— of you were wont to love mirth,  
In your young days, I have known your honour woe it  
This may be made no little one, 'tis a challenge Sir,  
Nay start not I beseech you, it means you no harm  
Nor any man of honour, or understanding  
'Tis to steal from your serious hours a little laughters  
I am bold to bring it to your Lordship,  Vert. 
'Tis to me indeed.  
Do they take me for a sword man, at these years?  Cler. 
'Tis only worth your honour's mirth that's all Sir,  
't'ad been in me else a saucy rudeness.  Vert. 
From one Lawrit, a very punctual challenge,  Cler. 
But if your Lordship mark it, no great matter  Vert. 
I have known such a wrangling advocate,  
Such a little figent thing; Oh I remember him,  
A notable talking knave, now out upon him,  
Has challenged me down right, defied me mortally  
I do remember too, I cast his causes  Cler. 
Why there's the quarrel Sir, the mortal quarrel  Vert. 
Why what a knave is this? as you're? Gentleman  
Is there no further purpose but mere mirth?  
What a bold man of war, he invites me roundly  Cler. 
If there should be, I were no Gentleman.  
Nor worthy of the honour of my kindred,  
And though I am sure your Lordship hate my person,  
Which time may bring again into your favour,  
Yet for my manners—  Vert. 
I am satisfied,  
You see Sir, I have out lived those days of fighting,  
And therefore cannot do him the honour to beat him myself  
But I have a kinsman, much of his ability  
His wit and carriage, for this calls him fool,  
One that will spit as senseless fire, as this fellow  Cler. 
And such a man to undertake, my Lord,  Verta. 
Nay he's too forward, these two pitch barrels together  Cler. 
Upon my soul no harm.  Vert. 
It makes me smile,  
Why what a stinking smother will they utter?  
Yes he shall undertake Sir, as my Champion,  
Since you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it  
And shall defend my cause, but as you're honest  
Sport not with blood.  Cler. 
Think not so basely, good Sir,  Vert. 
A squire shall wait upon you from my kinsman,  
Tomorrow morning, make your sport at full,  
You want no subject, but no wounds.  Cler. 
That's my care  Vert. 
And so good day. Exit Vertaine and Gentlemen.  Cler. 
Many unto your honour,  
This is a noble fellow of a sweet spirit,  
Now must I think how to contrive this matter,  
For together they shall go. Enter Dinant.  Din. 
O Cleremont  
I am glad I have found thee,  Cler. 
I can tell thee rare things,  Din. 
O I can tell thee rarer,  
Dost thou love me?  Cler. 
Love thee?  Din. 
Dost thou love me dearly  
Dar'st thou for my sake?  Cler. 
Any thing that's honest  Din. 
Though it be dangerous  Cler. 
Pox o dangerous  Din. 
Nay wondrous dangerous.  Cler. 
Wilt thou break my heart?  Din. 
Along with me then.  Cler. 
I must part tomorrow.  Din. 
You shall, you shall, be faithful for this night  
And thou hast made thy friend.  Cler. 
Away and talk not Exeunt.  Enter Lamira and Nurse. Lam. 
O Nurse welcome, where's Dinant?  Nurse. 
He is at my back  
'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this gold,  
He gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,  
If you yield up the for't  Lam. 
How? yield it up?  Nurse. 
I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,  
And a young Lord to boot, or I am cozened  
May enter everywhere,  Lam. 
thou'lt make me angry.  Enter Dinant and Cleremont. Nurse. 
Why if you are I hope here's on will please you,  
Look on him with my eyes, good luck go with you  
Were I young for your sake.—  Din. 
I thank thee Nurse,  Nurse. 
I would be tractable, and as I am—  Lam. 
Leave the room,  
So old, and so immodest? and be careful,  
Since whispers will make sleeping jealousies.  
That none disturb my Lord. Exit Nurse.  Cler. 
Will you dispatch?  
Till you come to the matter be not rapt thus,  
Walk in, walk in, I am your scout for once,  
You owe me the like service,  Din. 
And will pay it,  Lam. 
As you respect our lives, speak not so loud  Cler. 
Why, to it in dumb show then, I am silenced  Lam. 
Be not so hasty Sir, the golden apples,  
Had a fell dragon for their guard, your pleasures  
Are to be attempted with Herculean danger,  
Or never to be gotten  Din. 
Speak the means,  Lam. 
Thus briefly my Lord sleeps now, and alas,  
Each night he only sleeps.  Cler. 
Go keep her stirring,  Lam. 
Now if he wake, as sometimes he does,  
He only stretches out his hand and feels,  
Whether I am a-bed, which being assured of  
He sleeps again; But should he miss me, valour  
Could not defend our lives,  Din. 
what's to be done then?  Lam. 
servant's have servile Faiths, nor have I any  
That I dare trust; on noble Cleremont  
We safely may rely  Cler. 
What man can do,  
Command and boldly,  Lam. 
Thus then in my place,  
You must lie with my Lord,  Cler. 
With an old man?  
Two beards together? that's preposterous.  Lam. 
There is no other way, and though 'tis dangerous  
He having servants within call; and armed too,  
Slaves feed to act, all that his jealousy,  
And rage commands them, yet a true friend should not  
check at the hazard of a life,  Cler. 
I thank you,  
I love my friend, but know no reason why  
To hate myself, to be a kind of pander,  
You see I am willing,  
But to betray mine own throat you must pardon,  Din. 
Then I am lost, and all my hopes defeated  
Were I to hazard ten times more for you,  
You should find, Cleremont—  Cler. 
You shall not out do me,  
Fall what may fall, I'll do't  Din. 
But for his beard—  Lam. 
To cover that you shall have my night Linen,  
And you disposed of, my Dinant and I,  
Will have some private conference.  Enter Champ. privately. Cler. 
Private doing,  
Or I'll not venture,  Lam. 
That's as we agree. Exeunt.  Enter Nurse and Charloth, pass o'er the stage with pillows night Clothes and such things. Cham. 
What can this Woman do, preserving her honour?  
I have given her all the liberty that may be  
I will not be far off though; nor I will not be jealous  
Nor trust too much, I think she is virtuous,  
Yet when I hold her best, she's but a woman,  
As full of frailty as of Faith, a poor sleight woman,  
And her best thoughts, but weak fortifications,  
There may be a mean wrought. Well, let'em work then,  
I shall meet with it: till the signs be monstrous,  
And stick upon my head, I will not believe it, Stands private.  
She may be & she may not: now to my observation.  Enter Dinant, and Lamira. Din: 
Why do you make me stay so? if you love me—  Lam. 
You are too hot, and violent.  Din. 
Why do you shift thus  
From one chamber to another?  Lam. 
A little delay, sir,  
Like fire, a little sprinkled o'er with water,  
Makes the desires burn clear, and ten times hotter.  Din. 
Why do you speak so loud? I pray go in  
Sweet Mistress I am mad, time steals away,  
And when we would enjoy—.  Lam. 
Now fie, fie servant, Wine.  
Like sensual beasts, shall we enjoy our pleasures?  Din. 
Pray do but kiss me then.  Lam. 
Why, that I will, and you shall find anon, servant.  Di. 
oftly for heaven's sake, you know my friend's engaged,  
A little now, now; Will you go in again?  Lam. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha.  Din. 
Why do you laugh so loud? precious,  
Will you betray me? ha my friend's throat cut?  Lam. 
Come, come, I'll kiss thee again.  Cham. 
Will you so? you are liberal,  
If you do cozen me—  Enter Nurse with Wine. Din. 
What's this?  Lam. 
Wine, wine, a draught or two.  Din. 
What does this woman here?  Lam. 
She shall not hinder you.  Din. 
This might have been spared,  
'Tis but delay, and time lost: pray send her softly off.  Lam. 
Sit down, and mix your spirits with Wine,  
I will make you another Hercules.  Din. 
I dare not drink;  
Fie, what delays you make? I dare not, Recorders.  
I shall be drunk presently and do strange things then.  Lam. 
Not drink a cup with your Mistress? o the pleasure.  Din. 
Lady, why this? Music.  Lam. 
We must have mirth to our wine, man.  Din. 
Pl— o'th' Music.  Cham. 
God-a-mercy Wench,  
If thou dost Cuckold me, I shall forgive thee.  Din. 
The house will all rise now, this will disturb all.  
Did you do this?  Lam. 
Peace, and sit quiet, fool,  
You love me, come, sit down and drink.  Enter Cleremont above. Cler, 
What a devil ail you?  
How cold I sweat? a hog's pox, stop your pipes, Music.  
The thing will wake: now, now methinks I find  
His Sword just gliding through my throat: what's that?  
A vengeance choke your pipes. Are you there Lady?  
Stop, stop those rascals; do you bring me hither  
To be cut into minced meat? Why Dinant?  Din. 
I cannot do withal;  
I have spoke, and spoke: I am betrayed, and lost too.  Cler. 
Do you hear me? do you understand me?  
Plague dam your whistles. Music ends.  Lam. 
'Twas but an oversight, they have done, lie down.  Cler. 
Would you had done too.  
You know not  
In what a misery, and fear I lie.  
You have a Lady in your arms.  Din. 
I would have— The Recorders again.  Cham. 
I'll watch you, goodman wood have.  Cler. 
Remove for heaven's sake,  
And fall to that you come for.  Lam. 
Lie you down,  
'Tis but an hour's endurance now.  Cler. 
I dare not, softly sweet Lady,— heart?  Lam. 
'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly,  
Lie gently down.  Cler. 
Pray make an end.  Din. 
Come, Madam.  Lam. 
These Chambers are too near. Ex. Din. Lam.  Cham. 
I shall be nearer;  
Well, go thy ways. I'll trust thee through the world,  
Deal how thou wilt: that that I never feel,  
I'll never fear. Yet by the honour of a Soldier,  
I hold thee truly Noble. How these things will look,  
And how their bloods will curdle? play on children,  
You shall have pap anon. O thou grand fool,  
That thou knowest, but thy fortune— Music done.  Cler. 
Peace, good Madam,  
Stop her mouth Dinant, it sleeps yet, pray be wary,  
Dispatch, I cannot endure this misery,  
I can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,  
And down again— Whistle within.  
A thousand larums, fall upon my quarter,  
Heaven send me off; When I lie keeping courses.  
Pl— oF your fumbling Dinant; how I shake?  
'Tis still again. Would I were in the Indies. Exit Cler.  Enter Dinant, and Lamira. A light within. Din. 
Why do ye use me thus? thus poorly? basely?  
Work me into a hope, and then destroy me?  
Why did you send for me? this new way train me?  Lam. 
Madman, a fool, & false man, now I'll show thee man  Din. 
Pray put your light out.  Lam. 
No I'll hold it thus,  
That all chaste eyes, may see thy lust, and scorn it,  
Tell me but this, when you first doted on me,  
And made suit to enjoy me, as your wife,  
Did you not hold me honest?  Din. 
Yes, most virtuous.  Lam. 
And did not that appear, the only lustre  
That made me worth your love, and admiration?  Din. 
I must confess—  Lam. 
Why would you deal so basely?  
So like a thief? a villain?  Din. 
Peace, good Madam.  Lam. 
I'll speak aloud too; thus maliciously,  
Thus breaking all the rules of honesty,  
Of honour, and of truth, for which I loved you,  
For which, I called you servant, and admired you,  
To steal that jewel, purchased by another  
Piously set in Wedlock, even that Jewel,  
Because it had no flame, you held unvaluable:  
Can he that has loved good,  on the devil?  
For he that seeks a whore, seeks but his agent:  
Or am I of so wild, and low of blood,  
So nursed in infamies?  Din. 
I do not think so,  
And I repent.  Lam. 
That will not serve your turn, sir.  Din. 
It was your treaty drew me on.  Lam. 
But it was your villainy,  
Made you pursue it: I drew you but to try  
How much a man, and nobly you durst stand,  
How well you had deserved the name of virtuous;  
But you, like a wild torrent, mixed with all  
Beastly and base affections came floating on,  
Swelling your poisoned billows—  Din. 
Will you betray me?  Lam. 
To all the miseries, a vexed woman may.  Din. 
Let me but out,  
Give me but room to toss my sword about me,  
And I will tell you, you're a treacherous woman,  
O that I had but words!  Lam. 
They will not serve you.  Din. 
But two-edged words to cut thee; a Lady traitor?  
Perish by a proud puppet? I did you too much honour,  
To tender you my love, too much respected you,  
To think you worthy of my worst embraces.  
Go, take your groom, and let him dally with you,  
Your greasy groom; I scorn to imp your lame stock,  
You are not fair, nor handsome, I lied loudly.  
This tongue abused you, when it spoke you beauteous.  Lam. 
'Tis very well, 'tis brave.  Din. 
Put out your light,  
Your lascivious eyes, are flames enough  
For fools to find you out: a Lady plotter?  
Must I begin, your sacrifice of mischief?  
I and my friend, the first fruits of that blood,  
You and your honourable Husband aim at?  
Crooked and wretched you are both.  Lam. 
To you, sir,  
Yet to the eye of Justice, straight as Truth.  Din. 
Is this a woman's love? a woman's mercy?  
Do you profess this seriously? do you laugh at me?  Lam. 
Ha, ha.  Din. 
Pl— light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries  
Upon your tempting faces, all destructions:  
A bedrid Winter hang upon your cheeks,  
And blast, blast, blast, those buds of pride that point you;  
Death in your eyes to fright men from these dangers.  
Raise up your trophy Cleremont.  Cler. 
What a vengeance ail you?  Din. 
What dismal noise, is there, no honour in you?  
Cleremont, we are betrayed, betrayed, sold by a woman,  
Deal bravely for thyself.  Cler. 
This comes of rutting:  
Are we made stales to one another?  Din. 
Yes, we are undone, lost.  Cler. 
You shall pay for't greybeard:  
Up up, you sleep your last else. Lights above, two Servants and Anabell.  1 Serv. 
No not yet, sir,  
Lady, look up: would you have wronged this beauty?  
Wake so tender a Virgin, with rough terms?  
You wear a sword; we must entreat you leave it.  2 Serv. 
Fie sir, so sweet a Lady?  Cle. 
Was this my bedfellow? pray give me leave to look,  
I am not mad yet, I may be, by and by.  
Did this lie by me?  
Did I fear this? is this a cause to shake at?  
Away with me for shame, I am a rascal.  Enter Champernell, Beaupre, Verdoone, Laimra, Anabel, Cleremont, and two Servants. Din. 
I am amazed too.  Beau. 
We'll recover you.  Verd. 
You walk like Robin-good-fellow, all the house over  
And every man afraid of you.  Din. 
'Tis well Lady.  
The honour of this deed, will be your own,  
The world shall know your bounty.  Beaup. 
What shall we do with 'em?  Cler. 
Geld me,  
For 'tis not fit I should be a man again,  
I am an Ass, a Dog.  Lam. 
Take your revenges,  
You know my husband's wrongs, and your own losses.  Anab. 
A brave man, an admirable brave man;  
Well, well, I would not be so tried again;  
A very handsome proper gentleman.  Cler. 
Will you let me lie by her, but one hour more,  
And then hang me?  Din. 
we wait your malice, put your swords home bravely,  
You have reason to seek blood.  Lam. 
Not as you are Noble.  Cham. 
Hands off and give them liberty, only disarm 'em.  Beaup. 
We have done that already.  Champ. 
You are welcome gentlemen,  
I am glad my house, has any pleasure for you,  
I keep a couple of Ladies here, they say fair,  
And you are young, and handsome gentlemen;  
Have you any more mind to Wenches?  Cler. 
To be abused too? Lady, you might have helped this,  Ana. 
Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand,  
Your friend hereafter, in a greater matter.  Cler. 
Never whilst you live.  Ana. 
You cannot tell— now sir a parting hand.  Cler. 
Down and Roses:  
Well, I may live to see you again. A dull rogue,  
No revelation in thee.  Lam. 
Were you well frighted?  
Were your fits, from the heart, of all colds and colours?  
That's all your punishment.  Cler. 
It might have been all yours,  
Had not a blockhead undertaken it.  Cham. 
Your swords you must leave to these gentlemen.  Verd. 
And now, when you dare fight,  
We are on even Ice again.  Din. 
'Tis well:  
To be a Mistress, is to be a monster,  
And so I leave your house, and you for ever.  Lam. 
Leave your wild lusts, and than you are a master.  Cham. 
You may depart too.  Cler. 
I had rather stay here.  Cham. 
Faith we shall fright you worse.  Cler. 
Not in that manner,  
There's five hundred crowns, fright me but so again.  Din. 
Come Cleremont, this is the hour of fool.  Cler. 
Wiser the next shall be or we'll to school. Exeunt.  Champ. 
How coolly these hot gallants are departed?  
Faith cousin 'twas unconscionably done,  
To lie so still and so long.  Anab. 
'Twas your pleasure,  
If 'twere a fault I may hereafter mend.  Champ. 
O, My best Wife.  
Take now what course thou wilt, and lead what life.  Lam. 
The more trust you commit, the more care still,  
Goodness and virtue, shall attend my will.  Cham. 
Let's laugh this night out now & count our gains,  
We have our honours home, and they their pains.  Exeunt omnes.   

Actus quarti.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Cleremont Dinant. Din. 
It holds, they will go thither.  Cler. 
To their Summer house?  Din. 
Thither i'th' evening, and which is the most infliction,  
Only to insult upon our miseries.  Cler. 
Are you provided?  Din. 
Yes, yes.  Cler. 
Throughly?  Din. 
Throughly.  Cler. 
Basta enough, I have your mind, I will not fail you.  Din. 
At such an hour.  Cler. 
Have I a memory?  
A Cause, and Will to do? thou art so sullen—  Din. 
And shall be, till I have a fair reparation.  Cler. 
I have more reason, for I scaped a fortune,  
Which if I come so near again: I say nothing,  
But if I sweat not in another fashion—  
O, a delicate Wench.  Din. 
'Tis certain a most handsome one.  Cle. 
And methought the thing was angry with itself too  
It lay so long concealed but I must part with you,  
I have a scene of mirth, to drive this from my heart,  
And my hour is come.  Din. 
Miss not your time.  Cler. 
I dare not. Exeunt severally.  Enter Sampson and a Gentleman. Gent. 
I presume, sir, you now need no instruction,  
But fairly know, what belongs to a Gentleman;  
You bear your Uncle's cause.  Sam. 
Do not disturb me,  
I understand my cause, and the right carriage.  Gent. 
Be not too bloody.  Sam. 
As I find my enemy; if his sword bite,  
If it bite, sir, you must pardon me.  Gent. 
No doubt he is valiant,  
He durst not undertake else,  Sam. 
he's most welcome,  
As he is most valiant, he were no man for me else.  Gent. 
But say he should relent.  Sam. 
He dies relenting,  
I cannot help it, he must die relenting,  
If he pray, praying ipso facto, praying,  
Your honourable way, admits no prayer,  
And if he sight, he falls, there's his quiet us.  Gent. 
You're nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em,  
But still, I say, have mercy.  Samp. 
I say, honour. Exeunt.  Enter Champernell, Lamira, Anabell, Beaupre, Verdoone, Charlote and a servant. Lam. 
Will not you go sweetheart?  Cham. 
Go? I'll fly with thee,  
I stay behind?  Lam. 
My Father will be there too,  
And all our best friends,  Beaup. 
And if we be not merry,  
We have hard luck, Lady.  Verd. 
Faith let's have a kind of play.  Cham. 
What shall it be?  Verd. 
The story of Dinant.  Lam. 
With the merry conceits of Cleremont,  
His fits and Fevers.  Ana. 
But I'll lie still no more.  Lam. 
That, as you make the Play, 'twill be rare sport,  
And how 'twill vex my gallants, when they hear it?  
Have you given order for the Coach?  Charl. 
Yes, Madam.  Cham. 
My easy Nag, and pad.  Serv. 
'Tis making ready.  Champ. 
Where are your horses?  Beau. 
Ready at an hour, sir: we'll not be last.  Cham. 
Fie, what a night shall we have?  
A roaring, merry night.  Lam. 
We'll fly at all, sir.  Cham. 
I'll fly at thee too, finely, and so ruffle thee,  
I'll try your Art, upon a Country pallet.  Lam. 
Brag not too much, for fear I should expect it,  
Then if you fail—  Cham. 
Thou sayest too true, we all talk,  
But let's in, and prepare, and after dinner  
Begin our mirthful pilgrimage.  Lam. 
He that's sad,  
A crab-faced Mistress cleave to him for this year. Exeunt.  Enter Cleremont. and La-writ. La-writ. 
Since it cannot be the Judge—  Cler. 
'Tis a great deal better.  La-writ. 
You are sure, he is his kinsman? a gentleman?  Cler. 
As arrant a gentleman, and a brave fellow,  
And so near to his blood—  La-writ. 
It shall suffice,  
I'll set him further off, I'll give a remove  
Shall quit his kindred, I'll lop him.  Cler. 
Will ye kill him?  La-w. 
And there were no more cousins in the world I kill him,  
I do mean, sir, to kill all my Lords kindred.  
For every Cause a cousin.  Cler. 
How if he have no more cousins.  La-writ. 
The next a kin then, to his Lordship's favour,  
The man he smiles upon.  Cler. 
Why this is vengeance, horrid, and dire.  La-writ. 
I love a dire revenge:  
Give me the man, that will all others kill,  
And last himself,  Cler. 
You stole that resolution.  La-writ. 
I had it in a Play, but that's all one,  
I wooed see it done.  Cler. 
Come, you must be more merciful.  La-writ. 
To no Lords cousins in the world, I hate 'em;  
A Lords x to me is a kind of Cockatrice,  
If I see him first, he dies.  
A strange Antipathy,  Cler. 
What think you of their Nieces?  La-writ. 
If I like 'em,  
They may live, and multiply; 'tis a cold morning.  Cler. 
'Tis sharp indeed; you have broke your fast.  La-writ. 
No verily.  Cler. 
Your valour would have asked a good foundation.  La-writ. 
Hang him, I'll kill him fasting.  Enter Sampson and the Gent. Cler. 
Here they come,  
Bear yourself in your language, smooth and gently,  
When your swords argue.  La-writ. 
Pray sir spare your precepts.  Gent. 
I have brought you sir—  La-writ. 
'Tis very well, no words,  
You are welcome, sir.  Sam. 
I thank you, sir, few words.  La-writ. 
I'll kill you for your Uncle's sake.  Sam. 
I love you,  
I'll cut your throat, for your own sake.  La-writ. 
I esteem of you.  Cler. 
Let's render 'em honest, and fair, gentlemen,  
Search my friend, I'll search yours.  Gent. 
That's quickly done.  Cler. 
You come with no spells, nor witchcrafts?  Sam. 
I come fairly, to kill him honestly.  La-writ. 
Hang Spells, and Witchcrafts,  
I come to kill my Lords Nephew like a gentleman,  
And so I kiss his hand.  Gent. 
This doublet is too stiff.  La-writ. 
Off wilt, I hate it,  
And all such fortifications, feel my skin,  
If that be stiff, flay that off too.  Gent. 
'Tis no soft one.  La-wr. 
Off, wilt, I say:  
I'll fight with him, like a flead cat.  Gent. 
You are well, you are well. Put off.  Cler. 
You must uncase too.  Sam. 
Yes, sir.  
But tell me this, why should I mix mine honour  
With a fellow, that has ne'er a lace in's shirt?  Gent. 
That's a main point, my friend has two.  Cler. 
That's true, sir.  La-w. 
Base and degenerate cousin, dost not thou know  
An old, and tattered colours, to the enemy,  
Is of more honour, and shows more ominous?  
This shirt, five times, victorious I have fought under,  
And cut through squadrons, of your curious Cut-works,  
As I will do through thine, shake, and be satisfied.  Cler. 
This is unanswerable.  Sam. 
But may I fight, with a foul shirt?  Gent. 
Most certain, so it be a fighting shirt,  
Let it be ne'er so foul, or lousy, Caesar wore such a one.  Sam. 
Saint Denis then: I accept your shirt.  Cler. 
Not so forward, first you must talk,  
'Tis a main point, of the French method,  
Talk civilly, and make your cause Authentic.  Gent. 
No weapon must be near you, nor no anger.  Cler. 
When you have done, then stir your resolutions,  
Take to your Weapons bravely.  La-writ. 
'Tis too cold;  
This for a Summer fight.  Cler. 
Not for a world, you should transgress the rules.  Sam. 
'Tis peevish weather,  
I had rather fight without.  Gent. 
An 'twere in a river.  Cler. 
Where both stood up to th' chins.  La-writ. 
Then let's talk quickly,  
Pl— oF this circumstance.  Cler. 
Are the Horses come yet?  Gent. 
Yes certain: give your swords to us, now civilly.  Cler. 
We'll stand a while off; take the things, & leave 'em,  
You know when, and let the children play:  
This is a dainty time of year for puppies,  
Would the old Lord were here.  Gent. 
He would die with laughter.  Cler. 
I am sorry I have no time, to see this game out,  
Away, away.  Gent. 
Here's like to be a hot fight,  
Call when you're fit. Ex. Cler. and Gent.  La-writ. 
Why look you sir, you seem to be a gentleman,  
And you come in honour of your Uncle, boo, boo, 'tis very cold;  
Your Uncle has offered me some few affronts,  
Past flesh and blood to bear: boo, boo, wondrous cold.  Sam. 
My Lord, mine Uncle, is an honourable man,  
And what he offers, boo, boo, cold indeed,  
Having made choice of me, an unworthy kinsman,  
Yet, take me with you: boo, boo, pestilence cold,  
Not altogether.  La-wr. 
boo, boo, I say altogether.  Sam. 
You say you know not what then: boo, boo, sir.  La-w. 
Sir me with your sword in your hand;  
You have a scurvy Uncle, you have a most scurvy cause,  
And you are— boo, boo.  Sam. 
boo, boo, what?  La-writ. 
A shitten scurvy Cousin.  Samp. 
Our Swords? our swords?  
Thou art a dog, and like a dog: our swords?  La-w. 
Our weapons gentlemen: ha? where's your second?  Sam. 
Where's yours?  La-writ. 
So ho? our weapons?  Sam. 
Wa, ha, ho, our weapons?  
Our Doublets and our weapons, I am dead.  La-w. 
Firsts? second? third? a pl— be wi' you gentlemen  Sam. 
Are these the rules of honour? I am starved.  La-w. 
They are gone, and we are here; what shall we do?  Sam. 
O for a couple of faggots.  La-writ. 
Hang a couple of faggots;  
Dar'st thou take a killing cold with me?  Sam. 
I have it already.  La-writ. 
Rogues, thieves, boo boo, run away with our Doublets?  
To fight at Buffets now, 'twere such a May-game.  Sam. 
There were no honour in't, p— on't, 'tis scurvy.  La-wr. 
Or to revenge my wrongs at fisticuffs.  Sam. 
My Lord, mine Uncle's cause, depend on Boxes?  La-wr. 
Let's go in quest, if ever we recover 'em.  Sam. 
ay, come, our colds together, and our doublets.  La-w. 
Give me thy hand; thou art a valiant gentleman.  
I say, if ever we recover 'em—  Sam. 
Let's get into a house and warm our hearts.  La-writ. 
There's ne'er a house within this mile, beat me,  
Kick me, and beat me as I go, and I'll beat thee too,  
To keep us warm; if ever we recover 'em—  
Kick hard, I am frozen: so, so, now I feel it.  Sam. 
I am dull yet.  La-w. 
I'll warm thee I'll warm thee.— Gentlemen,  
Rogues, thieves, thieves: run, now I'll follow thee. Exeūt.  Enter Vertaigne, Champernell Beaupre, Verdoone, Lamira, Annabell. Charlote, Nurse. Verta. 
Use legs, and have legs.  Cham. 
You that have legs say so,  
I put my one to too much stress.  Verdo. 
Your hearse, sir,  
Will meet you within half a mile,  Lam. 
I like  
The walk so well, I should not miss my Coach,  
Though it were further. Annabel thou art sad:  
What ails my Niece?  Beau. 
she's still devising, sister,  
How quietly her late bedfellow lay by her.  Nurse. 
Old as I am, he would have startled me,  
Nor can you blame her.  Charl. 
Had I ta'en her place.  
I know not, but I fear, I should ha' shrieked,  
Though he had never offered—  Ana. 
Out upon thee,  
Thou wouldst have taught him.  Charlote. 
I think, with your pardon,  
That you wish now you had.  Ana. 
I am glad. I yield you Cornet. Music within.  
Such ample scope of mirth.  Verta. 
Nay, be not angry,  
There's no ill meant: ha? Music, and choice music?  Cham. 
'Tis near us in the Grove what courteous bounty  
Bestows it on us? my dancing days are done;  
Yet I would thank the giver, did I know him.  Verdo. 
'Tis questionless, some one of your own Village,  
That hearing of your purposed journey thither,  
Prepares it for your entertainment, and  
The honour of my Lady.  Lam. 
I think rather,  
Some of your Lordship's Clients.  Beaup. 
What say you Cousin?  
If they should prove your Suitors?  Verd. 
That's most likely.  Nurse. 
I say, if you are noble, be't who will;  
Go presently and thank 'em: I can jump yet,  
Or tread a measure.  Lam. 
Like a miller's Mare.  Nurs. 
I warrant you well enough to serve the Country,  
I'll make one, and lead the way. Exit.  Charl. 
Do you note,  
How zealous the old Crone is?  Lam. 
And you titter  
As eagerly as she: come sweet, we'll follow,  
No ill can be intended. Mus. ends.  Cham. 
I ne'er feared yet. Exeunt.  

Song in the Wood.  
THis way, this way, come and hear,  
You that hold, these pleasures dear,  
Fill your ears, with our sweet sound,  
Whilst we melt the frozen ground:  
This way come, make haste o fair,  
Let your clear eyes gild the air;  
Come and bless us with your sight,  
This way, this way seek delight.   Enter a company of Gentlemen, like Ruffians. 1 Gent. 
They are ours but draw them on a little further  
From the footpath into the neighbouring thicket,  
And we may do't, as safe, as in a Castle.  2 Gent. 
They follow still; the precedent, Vertaigne  
Comes on apace, and Champernell limps after;  
The women, as if they had wings, and walked  
Upon the air, fly to us.  1 Gent. 
They are welcome,  
We'll make 'em sport; make a stand here, all know  
How we are to proceed.  2 Gen. 
We are instructed. Still Music within.  1 Gent. 
One strain or two more. Gent. off.  Enter Vertaigne, Champernell, Beaupre Verdoone, Lamira, Anabell, Nurse, Charlote. 
Excellent, they are come,  Nurse. 
We cannot miss, in such a business, yet  
Mine ear ne'er failed me. Music for the Dance.  Charl. 
Would we were at it once,  
I do not walk, but dance.  1 Gen. 
You shall have dancing.  Lam. 
Begin, and when I give the word—  2 Gent. 
No more.  
Wear instructed. Dance.  Beaupre. 
But win us fairly— Now.  1 Gent. 
O sir, We do not come to try your valour,  
But to possess you, yet we use you kindly  
In that, like English thieves, we kill you not,  
But are contented with the spoil.  Verta. 
Oh heaven!  
How hath mine age deserved this?  Cham. 
Hell confound it,  
This comes of walking; had I kept my legs,  
My legs in my good house, my Armour on,  
My Staff in my rest, and this good sword too, friend,  
How I would break and scatter these.  All Gent. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Cham. 
Do you scorn me rogues?  Nurs. 
Nay, Gentlemen, kind gentlemen,  
Or honest keepers of these woods, but hear me,  
Be not so rough; if you are taken with  
My beauty, as it hath been worth the seeking,  
Some one or two of you, try me in private,  
You shall not find me squeamish.  Charl. 
Do not kill me,  
And do your worst, I'll suffer.  Lam. 
Peace vile creatures.  Vert. 
Do you know me, or my place that you presume not  
To touch my person?  1 Gent. 
If you are well, rest so,  
Provoke not angry wasps.  Verta. 
You are Wasps indeed,  
Never created to yield Wax, or honey,  
But for your country's torment, yet are, if men,  
As you seem such in shape, if true borne Frenchmen,  
however want compels you to these courses,  
Rest satisfied with what you can take from us,  
(These ladies' honours, and our liberties safe)  
We freely give it.  1 Gent. 
You give but our own.  Verta. 
Look on these grey hairs, as you would be old,  
Their tears, as you would have yours to find mercy,  
When Justice shall o'ertake you.  Cham. 
Look on me,  
Look on me rascals, and learn of me too,  
That have been in some part of your profession,  
Before that most of you ere sucked I know it,  
I have rode hard, and late too.  Verta. 
Take heed, sir.  Cham. 
Then use me, like a brother of the trade,  
For I have been at Sea, as you on land are,  
Restore my Matrimony undefiled,  
Wrong not my Niece. and for our gold or silver,  
If I pursue you, hang me.  Nurs. 
'Tis well offered,  
And as I said, sweet gentlemen, with sour faces,  
If you are high, and want some sport, or so,  
(As living without action here, you may do)  
Forbear their tender grissels, they are meat  
Will wash away, there is no substance in it,  
We that are expert in the game, and tough to,  
Will hold you play.  Enter Dinant and Cleremont. 1 Gent. 
This hen longs to be trodden.  Din. 
Lackey my horse.  Cler. 
This way, I heard the cries  
Of distressed women.  2 Gent. 
Stand upon your guard.  Din. 
who's here? my witty, scornful Lady-plot?  
In the hands of ruffians,  Cler. 
And my fine cold virgin,  
That was insensible of man, and woman?  Din. 
Justice too,  
Without a sword to guard itself?  Cler. 
And valour with its hands bound?  Din. 
And the great Soldier dull?  
Why this is strange;  Lam. 
Dinant as thou art noble—  Ana. 
As thou art valiant Cleremont.—  Lam. 
As ever I appeared lovely—  Ana. 
As you ever hope,  
For what I would give gladly—  Cler. 
Pretty conjurations,  Lam. 
All injuries, a little laid behind you  Ana. 
Show yourselves men, and help us  Din. 
Though your many  
And gross abuses of me, should more move me  
To triumph in your miseries then relieve you,—  
Yet that hereafter, you may know that I  
The scorn and despised Dinant, knows what does.  
Belong to honour, thus—  Cler. 
I will say little, Fight.  
Speak thou for me,  Cham. 
'Tis bravely fought,  Verta. 
Brave tempers,  
To do thus for their enemies.  Cham. 
They are lost yet,  1 Gen. 
You that would rescue others, shall now feel  
What they were borne to,  2 Gen. 
Hurry them away. Exit. Manent Vertaigne, and Champernell.  Cham. 
That I could follow them,  Verta. 
I only can lament my fortune, and desire of heaven  
A little life for my revenge.  Cham. 
The provost,  
Shall fire the woods, but I will find 'em out,  
No cave, no rock, nor hell shall keep them from  
My searching vengeance.  Enter La-writ and Sampson. La-wr. 
O cold! o fearful cold! plague of all seconds,  Sam. 
O for a pint of burnt wine, or a sip  
Of aqua fortis.  Cham. 
The rogues have met with these two  
Upon my life and robbed 'em  La. Wr. 
As you are honourable Gentlemen,  
Impart unto a couple of cold combatants,  Sam. 
My Lord, mine uncle as I live,  La-wr. 
Pox take him.  
How that word, has warmed my mouth?  Verta. 
Why how now x?  
Why, why? and where man, have you been? at a poulter's  
That you are cassed thus like a rabbit? I could laugh now,  
And I shall laugh, for all I have lost my Children,  
Laugh monstruously  Cham. 
What are they?  Verta. 
Give me leave Sir,  
Laugh more and more, never leave laughing,  Cham. 
Why Sir?  Verta. 
Why 'tis such a thing I smell it Sir, I smell it,  
Such a ridiculous thing,—  La-wr. 
Do you laugh at me my Lord?  
I am very cold, but that should not be laughed at,  Cham. 
What art thou?  La-wr. 
What art thou?  Sam. 
If he had his doublet.—  
And his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have  Ver. 
Peace monsieur Sampson.  Cham. 
Come hither little Gentleman,  La wr. 
Base is the slave commanded: come to me  Verta. 
This is the little advocate  Cham. 
What advocate?  Verta. 
The little advocate that sent me a challenge,  
I told you that my Nephew under took it,  
And what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.  Cham. 
Is this the little Lawyer?  La. wr. 
You have a sword Sir,  
And I have none, you have a doublet too,  
That keeps you warm, and makes you merry,  Sam. 
If your Lordship knew.  
The nature, and the nobleness of the Gentleman,  
Though he show sleight here, & at what gusts of danger  
His manhood has arrived,  La-wr. 
Be't then.  
Men's faces are foolish,  
And often head long, over run their fortunes,  Sam. 
That little Lawyer, would so prick his ears up,  
And bite your honour by the nose.  Cham. 
Say you so Sir?  La-wr. 
So niggle about your grave shins Lord Vertaigne too  Sam. 
No more sweet Gentleman, no more of that Sir,  La-wr. 
I will have more, I must have more.  Verta. 
Out with it.  Sam. 
Nay he is as brave a fellow.—  Cham. 
Have I caught you? Strike him down.  Verta. 
Do not kill him, do not kill him.  
No no, no, I will not  Cham. 
Do you peep again, down down proud heart  Sam. 
O valour,  
Look up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee,  
My Kingdom for a sword,  Cham. 
I'll sword you presently,  
I'll claw your skin-coat too.  Verta. 
Away good Samson,  
You go to grass else instantly,  Sam. 
But do not murder my brave friend  Vert. 
Not one word,  Cham. 
If you do sirrah,—  Sam. 
Must I go off dishonoured?  
Adversity tries valour, so I leave thee. Exit.  Cham. 
Are you a Lawyer Sir?  La-Wr. 
I was, I was Sir,  Cham. 
Nay never look, your lawyer's pate is broken  
And your litigious blood, about your ears sirrah,  
Why do you fight and snarl?  La. Wr. 
I was possessed.  Cham. 
I'll dispossess you.  Vert. 
Ha ha ha.  La-Wr. 
Et tu Brute.  Vert. 
Beat him no more.  Cham. 
Alas Sir I must beat him,  
Beat him into his business again, he will be lost else.  Vert. 
Then take your way,  Cham. 
Lie still, and do not struggle,  La-Wr. 
I am patient,  
I never saw my blood before, it jades me,  
I have no more heart now then a goose.  Cham. 
Why sirrah, why do you leave your trade, your trade of living,  
And send your challenges like thunderbolts,  
To men of honoured place?  La-wr. 
I understand Sir,  
I never understood, before your beating,  Cham. 
Does this work on you?  La-wr. 
Yes.  Cham. 
Do you thank me for't?  La-wr. 
As well as a beaten man can,  Cham. 
And do you promise me,  
To fall close to your trade again? leave brawling  La-wr. 
If you will give me leave and life,  Cham. 
And ask this noble man forgiveness?  La-Wr. 
Heartily.  Cham. 
Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you  
As of an Advocate new vampt; no more words,  
Get you off quickly, and make no murmurs  
I shall pursue you else,  La-Wr. 
I have done sweet Gentlemen. Exit.  Vert. 
But we forget ourselves, our Friends and Children  Cham. 
we'll raise the country first, then take our fortunes.  Exeunt. Enter one Gent. and Lamira. 1 Gent. 
Shall I entreat for what I may command?  Lam. 
Think on my birth,  1 Gent. 
Here I am only Noble.  
A King, and thou in my dominions fool,  
A subject and a slave.  Lam. 
Be nor a Tyrant;  
A ravisher of honour, gentle Sir,  
And I will think ye such, and on my knees,  
As to my Sovereign, pay a subject's duty,  
With prayers and tears,  1 Gent. 
I like this humble carriage.  
I will walk by, but kneel you still and weep too,  
It shows well, while I meditate on the prey,  
Before I seize it.  Lam. 
Is there no mercy, heaven?  Enter second Gent. and Anabell. 2 Gent. 
Not kiss you?  
I will kiss and kiss again,  Ana. 
Savage villain!  
My Innocence be my strength, I do defy thee,  
Thus scorn and spit at thee; will you come on Sir,  
You are hot, there is a cooler,  2 Gen. 
A virago?  Ana. 
No, loathsome Goat, more, more I am that Goddess,  
That here with whips of steel in hell hereafter  
Scourge rape and theft,  2 Gen. 
I'll try your deity,  Ana. 
My chastity, and this knife held by a Virgin,  
Against thy lust thy sword and thee a Beast.  
Call on for the encounter.  2 Gen. 
Now what think you? Throws her and takes. her Knife.  
Are you a Goddess?  Ana. 
In me their power suffers,  
That should protect the Innocent,  1 Gent. 
I am all fire,  
And thou shall quench it, and serve my pleasures,  
Come partner in the spoil and the reward,  
Let us enjoy our purchase  Lam. 
O Dinant!  
O Heaven! o Husband!  Ana. 
O my Cleremont!  1 Gent. 
Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth  
As they are chained together let them see  
And suffer in the object.  Enter Dinant and Cleremont bound. By the rest of the Gent. 2 Gen. 
While we sit  
And without pity hear 'em  Cler. 
By my life,  
I suffer more for thee then for myself,  Din. 
Be a man Cleremont, and look upon 'em,  
As such that not alone abused our service,  
Fed us with hopes most bitter indigestion,  
But when love failed, to draw on further mischief,  
The baits they laid for us; were our own honours,  
Which thus hath made us slaves too, worse than slaves  2 Gen. 
He dies  1 Gen. 
Pray hold, give him a little respite,  Din. 
I see you now beyond expression wretched,  
The wit you bragged of, fooled, that boasted honour,  
As you believed compassed with walls of brass,  
To guard it sure, Subject to be o'er thrown  
With the least blast of lust.  Lam. 
A most sad truth.  Din. 
That confidence which was not to be shaken  
In a perpetual fever, and those favours,  
Which with so strong, and Ceremonious duty  
Your lover and a Gentleman long sought for,  
Sought, sued, and kneeled in vain for, must you yield up  
To a licentious villain, that will hardly,  
Allow you thanks for't  Cler. 
Something I must say too,  
And to you pretty one, though crying one;  
To be hanged now, when these worshipful benchers please  
Though I know not their faces that condemn me,  
A little startles me, but a man is nothing,  
A Maidenhead is the thing, the thing all aim at;  
Do not you wish now, and wish from your heart too,  
When scarce sweet with my fears, I long lay by you  
Those fears you and your good Aunt put upon me,  
To make you sport you had given a little hint,  
A touch or so, to tell me I was mortal,  
And by a mortal woman?  Ana. 
Pray you no more  Cler. 
If I had loosed that virgin Zone, observe me,  
I would have hired the best of all our Poets  
To have sung so much, and so well in the honour  
Of that night's joy, that Ovid's afternoon,  
Nor his Corvina should again be mentioned,  Ana. 
I do repent, and wish I had,  Cler. 
That's comfort,  
But now.—  2 Gent. 
Another that will have it offered,  
Compel it to be offered, shall enjoy it.  Cler. 
A rogue, a ruffian.  2 Gen. 
As you love your throat,—  1 Gen. 
Away with them.  Ana. 
O Cleremont!  Lam. 
O Dinant!  Din. 
I can but add your sorrows to my sorrows,  
Your fears to my fears,  Cler. 
To your wishes mine.  
This slave may prove unable to perform,  
Till I perform the task that I was borne for,  Ana. 
Amen, amen.  1 Gent. 
Drag the slaves hence, for you  
A while I'll lock you up here study all ways  
You can to please me, or the deed being done,  
You are but dead.  2 Gen. 
This strong vault shall contain you  
There think how many for your maidenhead  
Have pined away, and be prepared to lose it  
With penitence.  1 Gent. 
No humane help can save you.  ladies. 
Help, help?  2 Gent. 
You cry in vain, rocks cannot hear you.    

Actus Quinti.  

Scena Prima.  A Horrid noise of Music within, Enter one and opens the Chamber door, in which Lamira and Anabell were shut, they in all fear. Lam. 
O x how I shake, all this long night,  
What frights and noises we have heard still they increase  
The villains put on shapes to torture us,  
And to their devil's form such preparations  
As if they were a hatching new dishonours,  
And fatal ruin, past dull man's invention  
Go not too far and pray good x Anabell  
Hark a new noise. A strange Music. Sackbut & Troup music.  Ana. 
They are exquisite in mischief.  
I will go on this room gives no protection,  
More than the next what's that? how sad and hollow,  
The sound comes to us. Thieves peeping. Lowder.  Lam. 
Groaning? or singing is it?  Ana. 
The wind I think, murmuring amongst old rooms  Lam. 
Now it grows louder sure some sad presage  
Of our foul loss— peep—, look now they peep,  Ana. 
Pox peep 'em.  Lam. 
O give them gentle language,  Ana. 
Give 'em ratsbane. Peep above.  Lam. 
Now they are above  Ana. 
I would they were i' th' Centre,  Lam. 
Thou art so foolish desperate,  Ana. 
Since we must lose.  Lam. 
Call 'em brave fellows, Gentlemen,  Ana. 
Call 'em rogues,  
Rogues as they are, rude rogues, uncivil villains  Lam. 
Look an thou wilt, beware dost thou feel the danger?  Ana. 
Till the danger feel me, this will I talk still,  
And worse when that comes too; they cannot eat me  
This is a punishment, upon our own prides,  
Most justly laid; we must abuse brave Gentlemen,  
Make 'em tame fools & hobby-horses, laugh & jeer at  
Such men too, and so handsome and so Noble,  
That howsoe'er we seemed to carry it  
Wooed 'twere to do again,  Lam. 
I do confess x,  
It was too harsh, too foolish  Ana. 
Do you feel it?  
Do you find it now? take heed o'th' punishment,  
We might have had two gallant Gentlemen,  
Proper young, o how it tortures me  
Two Devils now, two rascals two and twenty  Lam. 
O think not so  Ana. 
Nay an we scape so modestly—  Lam. 
May we be worthy any eyes, or knowledge,  
When we are used thus?  Ana. 
Why not? why do you cry!  
Are we not women still? what were we made for?  Lam. 
But thus, thus basely—  Ana. 
'Tis against our wills,  
And if there come a thousand so,—  Lam. 
Out on thee,  Ana. 
You are a fool, what we cannot resist,  
Why should we grieve and blush for? there be women,  
And they that bear the name of excellent women  
Would give their whole estates, to meet this fortune  Lam. 
Hark, a new noise. New found within.  Ana. 
Let 'em go on, I fear not,  
If wrangling fighting and scratching cannot preserve me  
Why so be it x; if I be ordained  
To breed a race of rogues.—  Enter four over the stage with Beaupre and Verdoone bound and halters about their necks. Lam. 
They come  Ana. 
Be firm,  
They are welcome.  Lam. 
What mask of death is this? O my dear Brother  Ana. 
My coz to; why now you're glorious villains  Lam. 
O shall we lose our honours?  Ana. 
Let 'em go,  
When death prepares the way, they are but Pageants  
Why must these die?  Beau. 
Lament your own misfortunes  
We perish happily before your ruins,  Ana. 
Has mischief ne'er a tongue?  1 Gent. 
Yes foolish woman,  
Our Captains will is death.  Ana. 
You dare not do it  
Tell thy base boisterous Captain what I say,  
Thy lawless Captain that he dares not;  
Do you laugh you rogue? you pampered rogue?  Lam. 
Good Sir,  
Good x gently, as you're a Gentleman,—  Ana. 
A gentleman? a slave a dog the devil's harbinger  Lam. 
Sir as you had a mother,  Ana. 
He a Mother?  
Shame not the name of mother, a she Bear  
A bloody old wolf bitch, a woman Mother?  
Looks that rude lump, as if he had a mother?  
Entreat him? hang him, do thy worst thou dar'st not,  
Thou dar'st not wrong their lives, thy Captain dares not  
They are persons of more price  Ver. 
whate'er we suffer  
Let not your angers wrong you,  Ana. 
You cannot suffer.  
The men that do this deed must live i'th' moon  
Free from the gripe of Justice.  Lam. 
Is it not better?  Ann. 
Is it not better? let 'em go on like rascals  
And put false faces on; they dare not do it;  
Flatter such scabs of nature,  Gent. 
Woman, woman  
The next work is with you,  Ana. 
Unbind those Gentlemen,  
And put their fatal fortunes, on our necks.  Lam. 
As you have mercy do;  Ana. 
As you are monsters.  Lam. 
Fright us no more with shipwreck of our honours  
Nor if there be a guilt by us committed  
Let it endanger those,  Ana. 
I say they dare not,  
There be a thousand gallows, ye rogues,  
Tortures, ye bloody rogues wheels,  Gent. 
A way.  Lam. 
Stay.  Ana. 
Stay,  
Stay and I'll flatter too: good sweet faced Gentlemen  
You excellent in honesty; o kinsmen!  
O Noble kinsmen!  Gen. 
Away with 'em. Exit Verta. Beaup. and Gent.  Ana. 
Stay yet  
The Devil and his lovely dam walk with you,  
Come fortify yourself, if they do die,  
Which all their ruggedness, cannot rack into me  
They cannot find an hour more Innocent,  
Nor more friends to revenge 'em.  Enter Cleremont disguised. Lam. 
Now stand constant,  
For now our trials come,  Cler. 
This beauties mine  
Your minute moves not yet,  Lam. 
She sinks if Christian,  
If any spark of noble heat.—  Cler. 
Rise Lady  
And fearless rise, there's no dishonour meant you,  
Do you know my tongue?  Ana, 
I have heard it,  Cler. 
Mark it better  
I am one that loves you, fairly, nobly loves you  
Look on my face?  Ana. 
O Sir?  Cler. 
No more words, softly  
Hark, but hark wisely how, understand well,  
Suspect not, fear not  Ana. 
You have brought me comfort  Cler. 
If you think me worthy of your Husband,  
I am no rogue, nor Beggar if you dare do thus—  Ana. 
You are monsieur Cleremont,  Cler. 
I am the same  
If you dare venture, speak, if not I leave you,  
And leave you to the mercy of these villains  
That will not woo ye much,  Ana. 
Save my reputation,  
And free me from these slaves.  Cler. 
By this kiss I'll do it  
And from the least dishonour they dare aim at you  
I have a priest too, shall be ready.  Ana. 
You are forward,  Lam. 
Is this my constant x? how she whispers,  
Kisses and hugs the thief.  Ana. 
You ll offer nothing  Cler. 
Till all be tied  
Not as I am a Gentleman  Ana. 
Can you relieve my Aunt too?  Cler. 
Not yet Mistress.  
But fear nothing all shall be well away quickly  
It must be done i'th' moment or  Ana. 
I am with ye  Cler. 
I'll know now who sleeps by me, keep your standing  Exit Cler. and Anabell. Lam. 
Well, go thy ways, & thine own shame dwell with thee?  
Is this the constancy she showed the bravery  
The dear love and the life, she owed her kinsmen?  
O brave tongue valiant glorious woman?  
Is this the noble anger you arrived at?  
Are these the thieves you scorned the rogues you railed at?  
The scabs and scums of nature? o fair modesty,  
Excellent virtue, whither art thou fled?  
What hand of heaven is over us, when strong virgins  
Yield to their fears, and to their fears their fortunes?  
Never belief come near me more, farewell wench,  
A long farewell from all that ever knew thee  
My turn is next,  
I am resolved it comes  
But in a nobler shape, ha?  Enter Dinant. Din. 
Bless ye Lady  Lam. 
Indeed Sir. I had need of many blessings,  
For all the hours I have had since I came here,  
Have been so many curses. How got you liberty?  
For I presume you come to comfort me  Din. 
To comfort you, and love you, 'tis most true,  
My bondage was as yours, as full of bitterness  
And every hour my death.  Lam. 
Heaven was your comfort.  Din. 
Till the last evening, sitting full of sadness  
Wailing, sweet Mistress, your unhappy fortunes  
Mine own I had the least care of round about me,  
The Captain, and the company stood gaping,  
When I began the story of my love,  
To you fair Saint, and with so full a sorrow,  
Followed each point, that even from those rude eyes,  
That never knew what pity meant or mercy  
There stole down soft relentings, take heed Mistress,  
And let not such unholy hearts out do you,  
The soft plumed god will see again thus taken,  
As men transformed with the strange tale I told  
They stood amazed then bid me rise and live,  
Take liberty and means to see your person,  
And wished me prosperous in your love, wish you so,  
Be wise and loving Lady, show but you so  Lam. 
O Sir, are these fit hours, to talk of love in?  
Shall we make fools of our afflictions?  
Can any thing sound sweetly in mine ears,  
Where all the noise of bloody horror?  
My Brother, and my x, they are dead Sir,  
Dead, basely dead, is this an age to fool in?  
And I myself, I know not what I shall be  
Yet I must thank you and if happily  
You had asked me yesterday, when these were living,  
And my fears less, I might have hearkened to you,  Din. 
Peace to your grief, I bind you to your word.  Enter Cleremont Anabell, Beaupre, Verdoone, Charlote Nurse, the two Gentlemen. Lam. 
How? do you conjure?  Din. 
Not to raise dreadful apparitions, Madam,  
But such as you would gladly see.  Lam. 
My Brother, and nephew living?  Beap. 
And both owe their lives,  
To the favour of these Gentlemen,  Verd. 
Who deserve  
Our service, and for us, your gracious thanks.  Lam. 
Which I give freely, and become a suitor,  
To be hereafter more familiar. Kiss.  
With such great worth and virtue,  1 Gen. 
Ever think us,  
Your servant's Madam.  Cler. 
Why if thou wilt needs know  
How we are freed, I will discover it,  
And with laconic brevity, these Gentlemen  
This night encountering with those out laws that  
Yesterday made us prisoners, and as we were  
Attempted by 'em they with greater courage,  
(I am sure with better fortune not alone,  
Guarded themselves, but forced the bloody thieves,  
Being got between them, and this hellish Cave,  
For safety of their lives, to fly up higher  
Into the woods, all left to their possession  
This save your Brother, and your nephew from  
The gibbet, this redeemed me from my Chains,  
And gave my friend his liberty this preserved  
Your honour ready to be lost.  Din. 
But that  
I know this for a , and that the thieves  
And gentlemen, are the same men, by my practice,  
Suborned to this he does deliver it  
With such a constant brow, that I am doubtful,  
I should believe him too.  1 Gent. 
If we did well,  
We are rewarded.  2 Gent. 
Thanks but takes away  
From what was freely purposed.  Cler. 
Now by this hand,  
You have so cunningly discharged your parts,  
That while we live, rest confident you shall  
Command Dinant and Cleremont, nor Beaupre,  
Nor Verdoone scents it: for the Ladies, they  
Were easy to be guled.  1 Gent. 
'Twas but a jest,  
And yet the jest, may chance to break our necks  
Should it be known.  Cler. 
Fear nothing.  Din. 
Cleremont.  
Say, what success?  Cler. 
As thou wouldst wish, 'tis done Lad,  
The grove will witness with me, that this night,  
I lay not like a block: but how speed you?  Din. 
I yet am in suspense, devise some means  
To get these off, and speedily.  Cler. 
I have it,  
Come, we are dull, I think that the good fellows,  
Our predecessors in this place, were not  
So foolish, and improvident husbands, but  
'Twill yield us meat, and wine.  1 Gent. 
Let's ransack it,  
'Tis ours now, by the Law.  Cler. 
How say you sweet one,  
Have you an appetite?  Ana. 
To walk again  
I'th' Woods, if you think fit, rather than eat.  Cler. 
A little respite prithee; nay blush not,  
You ask but what's your own, and warrantable  
monsieur, Beaupre, Verdoone,  
What think you of the motion?  Verd. 
Lead the way. Ex. Manent, Din. and Lamira.  Beau. 
We follow willingly.  Cler. 
When you shall think fit,  
We will expect you.  Din. 
Now be mistress of  
Your promise Lady.  Lam. 
'Twas to give you hearing.  Din. 
But that word hearing, did include a grant,  
And you must make it good.  Lam. 
Must?  Din. 
Must, and shall,  
I will be fooled no more, you had your tricks;  
Made properties, of me, and of my friend;  
Presumed upon your power, and whipped me with  
The rod of mine own dotage: do not flatter  
yourself, with hope, that any humane help  
Can free you, and for aid by miracle;  
A base unthankful woman is unworthy.  Lam. 
You will not force me?  
Rather than injury you  
With your consent because I will torment you;  
I'll make you feel the effects of abused love,  
And glory in your torture.  Lam. 
Brother, Nephew,  
Help, help, for heaven's sake.  Din. 
Tear your throat, cry louder,  
Though every leaf, these trees bear, were an Echo,  
And summoned in your best friends to redeem you,  
It should be fruitless: 'tis not that I love you,  
Or value those delights you prize so high,  
That I'll enjoy you, a French crown will buy  
More sport, and a companion, to whom,  
You in your best trim. are an Aethiop.  Lam. 
Forbear me then.  Din. 
Not so, I'll do't in spite,  
And break that stubborn disobedient will,  
That hath so long held out, that boasted honour,  
I will make equal with a common Whores;  
The spring of Chastity, that fed your pride,  
And grew into a River of vain glory,  
I will defile with mud, the mud of lust,  
And make it loathsome even to goats.  Lam. 
O heaven!  
No pity sir?  Din. 
You taught me to be cruel,  
And dare you think of mercy? I'll tell thee fool,  
Those that surprised thee, were my instruments,  
I can plot too, good Madam, you shall find it:  
And in the stead of licking of my fingers,  
Kneeling, and whining like a boy new breeched,  
To get a toy forsooth, not worth an apple,  
Thus make my way, and with Authority,  
Command what I would have.  Lam. 
I am lost for ever:  
Good sir, I do confess my fault, my gross fault,  
And yield myself up, miserable guilty;  
Thus kneeling, I confess, you cannot study  
Sufficient punishments, to load me with;  
I am in your power, and I confess again,  
You cannot be too cruel: if there be,  
Besides the loss of my long guarded honour,  
Any thing else to make the balance even:  
Pray put it in, all hopes, all helps have left me;  
I am girt round with sorrow, hell's about me,  
And ravishment, the least that I can look for,  
Do what you please.  Din. 
Indeed I will do nothing,  
Nor touch, nor hurt you Lady, nor had ever  
Such a lewd purpose.  Lam. 
Can there be such goodness,  
And in a man so injured?  Din. 
Be confirmed in't.  
I seal it thus: I must confess you vexed me,  
In fooling me so often, and those fears,  
You threw upon me, called for a requital,  
Which now I have returned, all unchaste love  
Dinant thus throws away; live to mankind,  
As you have done to me, and I will honour  
Your virtue, and no more think of your beauty.  Lam. 
All I possess, comes short of satisfaction.  Din. 
No compliments: the terrors of this night  
Imagine, but a fearful dream, and so  
With ease forget it: for Dinant, that laboured  
To blast your honour, is a Champion for it,  
And will protect and guard it.  Lam. 
'Tis as safe then,  
As if a complete Army undertook it. Exeunt.  Enter La-writ, Sampson, Clients. La-writ. 
Do not persuade me gentle monsieur Sampson,  
I am a mortal man again, a Lawyer,  
My mortal part, I have put off.  Sam. 
Sweet monsieur,  
Let but our honours teach us.  La-writ. 
monsieur Sampson  
My honourable friend, my valiant friend,  
Be but so beaten-forward my brave Clients,  
I am yours, and you are mine again, be but so thrashed,  
Receive that Castigation with a cudgel.  Sam. 
Which calls upon us for a Reparation.  La-wr. 
I have, it cost me half a crown, I bear it  
All over me, I bear it monsieur Sampson;  
The oils, and the old woman, that repairs to me,  
To 'noint my beaten body.  Sam. 
It concerns you,  
You have been swinged.  La-writ. 
Let it concern thee too;  
Go and be beaten, speak scurvy words, as I did,  
Speak to that Lion Lord, waken his anger,  
And have a hundred Bastinadoes, do;  
Three broken pates, thy teeth knocked out, do Sampson,  
Thy valiant arms and legs beaten to Poultices,  
Do silly Sampson, do.  1 Cly. 
You wrong the gentleman,  
To put him out of his right mind thus:  
You wrong us, and our Causes.  La-writ. 
Down with him gentlemen,  
Turn him, and beat him, if he break our peace,  
Then when thou hast been Lamed, thy small guts perished,  
Then talk to me, before I scorn thy counsel,  
Feel what I feel, and let my Lord repair thee.  Sam. 
And can the brave Lawrit—  2 Cly. 
Tempt him no further,  
Be warned and say no more.  La-writ. 
If thou dost, Sampson,  
Thou seest my Myrmidons, I'll let 'em lose,  
That in a moment—  Sam. 
I say nothing, sir, but I could wish—  La-wr. 
They shall destroy thee wishing;  
There's ne'er a man of these, but have lost ten Causes,  
Dearer than ten men's lives; tempt, and thou diest:  
Go home, and smile upon my Lord, mine Uncle,  
Take Money of the men thou meanest to Cozen,  
Drink Wine, and eat good meat, and live discreetly,  
Talk little, 'tis an Antidote against a beating;  
Keep thy hand from thy sword, and from thy Laundress placket,  
And thou wilt live long.  1 Cly. 
Give ear, and be instructed.  La-writ. 
I find I am wiser than a Justice of Peace now,  
Give me the wisdom that's beaten into a man  
That sticks still by him: art thou a new man?  Sam. 
Yes, yes,  
Thy learned precepts have enchanted me,  La-writ. 
Go my son Sampson, I have now begot thee,  
I'll send thee causes; speak to thy Lord, and live.  
And lay my share by, go and live in peace,  
Put on new suits, and show fit for thy place;  
That man neglects his living, is an Ass: Exit. Samp.  
Farewell; come cheerly boys, about our business,  
Now welcome tongue again, hang Swords.  1 Cly. 
Sweet Advocate. Exeunt.  Enter Nurse and Charlote. Nur. 
I know not wench, they may call'em what they will,  
Outlaws, or thieves, but I am sure, to me  
One was an honest man, he used me well,  
What I did, 'tis no matter, he complained not.  Char. 
I must confess, there was one bold with me too,  
Some coy thing, would say rude, but 'tis no matter,  
I was to pay a Waiting woman's ransom,  
And I have done't, and I would pay't again,  
Were I ta'en tomorrow  Nur. 
Alas, there was no hurt,  
If't be a sin, for such as live at hard meat,  
And keep a long Lent, in the woods as they do,  
To taste a little flesh,  Char. 
God help the Courtiers,  
That lie at rack and manger  Nurse. 
I shall love  
A thief the better for this while I live,  
They are men of a charitable vocation,  
And give where there is need, and with discretion,  
And put a good speed penny in my purse,  
That has been empty twenty years,  Char. 
Peace Nurse,  
Farewell, and cry not roast meat, methinks Cleremont  
And my Lady Anabell are in one night,  
familiarly acquainted.  Nurse. 
I observe it,  
If she have got a penny too.  Enter Vertaigne Champernell and Provost. Charl. 
No more,  
My Lord monsieur Vertaigne the provost too,  
Hast and acquaint my Lady, Exit Nurse and Charl.  Pro. 
Wondrous strange,  Vert. 
'Tis true Sir, on my credit,  Cham. 
On mine honour,  Pro. 
I have been provost-marshal twenty years,  
And have trussed up a thousand of these rascals,  
But so near Paris yet, I never met with,  
One of that Brotherhood.  Cham. 
We to our cost have,  
But will you search the wood  Pro. 
It is beset,  
They cannot scape us, Nothing makes me wonder,  
So much as having you within their power  
They let you go; it was a Courtesy,  
That French thieves use not often, I much pity  
The Gentle Ladies, yet I know not how,  
I rather hope than fear  Enter Dinant, Cleremont, Verdoone, Beaupre, Lamira, Anabell, Charlote, Nurse. 
Are these the prisoners?  Din. 
We were such  Verta. 
Kill me not, excess of joy,  Cham. 
I see thou livest, but hast thou had no foul play  Lam. 
No on my soul, my usage hath been noble,  
Far from all violence,  Cham. 
How were you freed,  
But kiss me first, we'll talk of that at leisure,  
I am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off,  
As you knew me not?  Ana. 
Sir, I am where  
I owe most duty  Cler. 
'Tis indeed most true Sir,  
The man that should have been your bed fellow  
Your Lordship's Bedfellow, that could not smell out  
A Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool,  
To make you merry, this poor simple fellow  
Has met the maid again, and now she knows,  
He is a man,  Cham. 
How! is she dishonoured?  Cler. 
Not unless marriage be dishonourable,  
Heaven is a witness of our happy contract  
And the next Priest we meet shall warrant it  
To all the world: I lay with her in jest,  
'Tis turned to earnest now.  Cham. 
Is this true Niece  Din. 
Her blushing silence grants it; nay Sir storm not  
He is my friend, and I can make this good,  
His birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship  
Might have sought out a worse we are all friends too,  
All differences end thus. Now Sir, unless  
You would raise new dissensions make perfect  
What is so well begun  Verta. 
That were not manly,  Lam. 
Let me persuade you,  Cham. 
Well God give you joy,  
She shall not come a Beggar to you Sir,  
For you Monsieur Dinant 'ere long I'll show you,  
Another Neico, to this not much inferior,  
As you shall like proceed  Din. 
I thank you Sir,  Cham. 
Back then to Paris, well that travel ends  
That makes of deadly enemies perfect friends.  Exeunt omnes.    

Prologue.  
TO promise much, before a play begin,  
And when 'tis done, ask pardon, were a sin  
we'll not be guilty of: and to excuse  
Before we know a fault were to abuse  
The writers and ourselves, for I dare say  
We all are fooled if this be not a Play  
And such a play as shall, (so should plays do)  
Imp times dull wings, and make you merry too  
'Twas to that purpose writ, so we intend it  
And we have our wished ends, if you commend it.   

Epilogue.  
Gentlemen,  
I Am sent forth to inquire what you decree  
Of us and our Poets, they will be  
This night exceeding merry, so will we  
If you approve their labours. They profess  
You are their patrons, and we say no less,  
Resolve us then, for you can only tell  
Whither we have done idly or done well.  
FINIS.