THE Wild-Goose Chase. A comedy.  
As it hath been Acted with singular Applause at the Blackfriars: Being the Noble, Last, and Only Remains of those Incomparable dramatists, FRANCIS BEAUMONT, Gent. AND JOHN FLETCHER, Gent.  
Retrieved for the public delight of all the Ingenious; And private Benefit Of JOHN LOWIN and JOSEPH TAYLOR, Servants to His late majesty. By a Person of Honour.  
Ite bonis avibus—  
LONDON, Printed for Humpherey Moseley, and are to be sold at the PRINCE's Arms in St Paul's Churchyard. 1652.   

THE DEDICATION. To the Honoured, Few, Lovers of dramatic Poesy.  
Noble Spirits!  
IT will seem strange to you that we should beg a Pardon from you before you know a Crime committed; But such is our harsh Fate, that we shall want as much of your Mercy to the forgiving of this sad presumption of offering to your view these few poor sheets, the Rich Remains of our too-long-since lost Friend, Mr. FLETCHER, as we shall your favourable Acceptance, and Encouragement in it. The Play was of so General a received Acceptance, that (he Himself a Spectator) we have known him unconcerned, and to have wished it had been none of His; He, as well as the thronged Theatre (in despite of his innate Modesty) Applauding this rare issue of his Brain. His Complacency in his own Work, may be, perhaps no Argument to you of the Goodness of the Play, any more than our Confidence of it; and we do not expect our Encomium can do any thing with you, when the Play itself is so near: That will commend itself unto you. And now Farewell our Glory! Farewell your Choice Delight, most noble Gentlemen! Farewell th' Grand Wheel that set Us smaller Motions in Action! Farewell the Pride and Life o'th' Stage! Nor can we (though in our Ruin) much repine that we are so little, since He that gave us being is no more.  
Generous Souls!  
'Tis not unknown unto you All, how by a cruel Destiny we have a long time been Mutes and Bound, although our Misery's have been sufficiently Clamorous and Expanded, yet till this happy opportunity, never durst vex your open Ears and Hands: But this we're confident of will be the surest Argument for your Noblesses. What an Ingenious Person of Quality once spoke of his Amours, we apply to our necessities, 
Silence in Love betrays more Woe  
Than Words, though ne'er so Witty:  
The Beggar that is DUMB, you know,  
Deserves a DOUBLE pity.  But be the Comedy at your Mercy as We are. Only we wish, that you may have the same kind joy in Perusing of it, as we had in the Acting.  
So Exeunt  
Your Grateful Servants, JOHN LOWIN, JOSEPH TAYLOR.   


On the best, last, and only remaining Comedy of Mr. FLETCHER.  
I'M un-overclouded too! Clear from the Mist!  
The blind and late Heaven's eye's Great Oculist  
Obscured with the False Fierce of his Sceme  
Not half those Souls are Lightened by this Theme.  
Unhappy Murmurers that still repine  
(After th' Eclipse our Sun doth brighter shine)  
Recant your False Grief and your True joys know,  
Your Bliss is Endless as you feared your Woe!  
What Fortunate Flood is this? what storm of Wit?  
Oh who would live and not o'erwhelmed in it?  
No more a Fatal Deluge shall be hurled,  
This Inundation hath saved the World.  
Once more the Mighty FLETCHER doth arise  
Robed in a Vest, Studded with Stars and Eyes  
Of all his former Glories; His last Worth  
Embroidered with what yet Light e'er brought forth.  
See! in this glad Farewell he doth appear  
Stuck with the Constellations of his Sphere,  
Fearing we numbed feared no Flagration  
Hath curled all his Fires in this one ONE,  
Which (as they guard his hallowed Chaste Urn)  
The dull approaching Heretics do burn.  
FLETCHER at his Adieu Carouses thus  
To the Luxurious Ingenious.  
A Cleopatra did of Old outvie  
Th' unnumbered dishes of her anthony  
When (He at th' empty Board a Wonderer)  
Smiling she calls for Pearl and Vinegar;  
First pledges Him in's Breath, then at one Draught  
Swallows Three Kingdoms off to His best Thought.  
Hear Oh ye Valiant Writers and subscribe!  
(His Force set by) you're Conquered by this Bribe;  
Though you Hold out yourselves, He doth commit  
In this a Sacred Treason on your Wit;  
Although in Poems desperately Stout,  
Give up; This Overture must buy you out.  
Thus with some Prodigal Usurer 't doth fare  
That keeps his Gold still veiled, his steel-breast bare,  
That doth exclude his Coffers all but's Eye  
And his eye's Idol the Winged Deity;  
That cannot lock his Mines with half the Art  
As some Rich Beauty doth his wretched heart:  
Wild at his real Poverty, and so wise  
To win her, turns Himself into a prize.  
First startles Her with th' Emerald-Mad-lover  
The Rubie-Arcas; lest she should recover  
Her dazzled Thought a Diamond He throws  
Splendid in all the bright Aspatia's woes;  
Then to sum up the Abstract of his store  
He flings a Rope of Pearl of Forty more.  
Ah see! the staggering Virtue faints! which He  
Beholding, darts his Wealth's Epitome,  
And now to Consummate her wished Fall  
Shows this one Carbuncle that darkens All.  RICHARD LOVELACE.  

ON Mr. Fletcher's excellent Play, THE WILD-CHASE CHASE.  
methinks I see thy angered ashes rise  
FLETCHER; I feel them smarting in my eyes.  
Methinks thou sayst what would this rimer have  
He raises me, yet gives my fame a grave?)  
methinks (like that Old Moralist's Complaint  
What ill of mine has gained this ill man's praise?  
I hear thee say, sure this Play has some taint  
That this ill Poet gives his withered bays?  
Perhaps this good philosopher's life began  
To make the ill man good; As in a man  
To love the good's a step to being so,  
Love to thy Muse may be to me so too;  
Then I shall know how to commend thy Muse  
When her own self the praises shall infuse:  
Till then I must sit down confess the wonder,  
'Bove which I cannot go, and, wont go under.  
But where's the praise (you 'I say) to Fletcher's wit?  
I would ha' given but had no Offering fit.  
Then let these lines be thought to Fletcher's Muse  
Not an Encomium, but an Excuse.  NORREYS JEPHSON.  

An Epigram upon the long lost and fortunately recovered WILD-GOOSE CHASE, and as seasonably bestowed on Mr. JOHN LOWEN and Mr. JOSEPH TAYLOR, for their best advantage.  
IN this late dearth of wit, when jose and jack  
Were hunger-bit for want of fowl and Sack,  
His nobleness found out this happy means  
To mend their diet with these WILD-GOOSE scenes,  
By which he hath revived in a day  
Two Poets, and two Actors with one Play.  W. E.  

To the incomparable Mr. FLETCHER, upon his excellent Play, The WILD-GOOSE CHASE.  
SOle Soul of Drammas, thou who only art  
Whole in the whole, and whole in every Part.  
Thy fury every scene with spirit warms,  
And that same spirit every line informs.  
Noah Commas lie entranced, and rise up sense  
Three, four lines off, such is thy Influence.  
Thy words are all alive; and thou ne'er writ  
Things to come to themselves, nor Types of Wit,  
All lives, and is fulfilled. And for thy Plot  
When ere we read we have, and have it not,  
And glad to be deceived, finding thy Drift  
T' excel our guess at every turn, and shift.  
Some new Meanders still do put us out,  
Yet find that nearest what we thought about.  
Through all intrigues we are securely led,  
And all the way we pass w'ave hold 'o'th' thread,  
Which a long while we feel not, till thy Close  
Winding the Bottom up the Bottom shows.  H: HARINGTON.  

On Mr. Fletcher's Wild-Goose Chase recovered.  
THis sprightly Posthume, whom our pious fear  
Bewailed as if it an abortive were  
(And out of sense of that, no generous breast  
But a forsaken lover's grief expressed)  
Hath forced his way through the pangs of Fate,  
And in his infancy's at man's estate.  
Thus that Famed flood that's plunged into a grave  
For many leagues, at length exalts his wave;  
Leaps from his Sepulchre, and proudly slides  
Through's banks in deeper, more expanded tides;  
Till to his watery Centre he hath got  
By wriggling twines, subtle as FLETCHER'S plot.  
That 'tis a sacred birth from hence we know,  
It doth by burial, more glorious grow:  
For Saints by persecution thrive; and none  
Is Martyred, but 's oppressed into a throne.  
There reign he to Time's end! while we from this,  
Do calculate his Apotheosis.  JAMES RAMSEY.   

DRAMMATIS PERSONAE.  
DE-GARD, A Noble stayd Gentleman that being newly lighted from his Travels, assists his sister Oriana in her chase of Mirabell the Wild-Goose. 
Acted by Mr. Robert Benfield.  LA-CASTRE, the Indulgent Father to Mirabell. 
Acted by Mr. Richard Robinson.  MIRABELL, the Wild-Goose, a Travailed Monsieur, and great defier of all Ladies in the way of Marriage, otherwise their much loose servant, at last caught by the despised Oriana. 
Incomparably Acted by Mr. joseph Taylor.  PINAC, his fellow Traveller, of a lively-spirit, and servant to the no less sprightly Lillia-Bianca. 
Admirably well Acted by Mr. Thomas Pollard.  BELLEUR, Companion to both, of a stout blunt humour, in love with Rosalura. 
Most naturally Acted by Mr. john Lowin.  NANTOLET, Father to Rosalura and Lillia-Bianca. 
Acted by Mr. William Penn.  LUGIER, the rough and confident Tutor to the Ladies, and chief Engine to entrap the Wild-Goose. 
Acted by Mr. Hilliard Swanston.  ORIANA, the fair betrothed of Mirabell, and witty follower of the Chase. 
Acted by Mr. Steph. Hammerton.  ROSALURA LILLIA-BIANCA the Aery Daughters of Nantolet. 
William Trigg. Sander Gough.  PETELLA, their waiting-woman. Their Servant Mr Shanck. 
 MARIANA, an English Courtesan. 
 A young FACTOR. by Mr. john Honyman. 
 PAGE. 
 SERVANTS. 
 SINGING-BOY 
 TWO MERCHANTS. 
 PRIEST. 
 four WOMEN. 
  
THE SCENE PARIS.   

THE Wild-Goose-Chase.  


ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA.  Enter Monsieur de Guard, and a Footboy. De Gard. 
sirrah, you know I have rid hard; Stir my Horse well,  
And let him want no Litter.  Boy. 
I am sure I have run hard,  
Would somebody would walk me, & see me littered;  
For I think my fellow-Horse, cannot in reason  
Desire more rest, nor take up his Chamber before me,  
But we are the Beasts now, and the Beasts are our Masters,  de Gard. 
When you have done, step to the Ten-Crown Ordinary.  Boy. 
With all my heart, Sir, For I have Twenty Crown-stomach.  de Ga. 
And there bespeak a dinner.  Boy. 
Yes Sir, presently.  de Ga. 
For whom, I beseech you, Sir?  Boy. 
For myself, I take it Sir.  de Ga. 
In truth ye shall not take it, 'tis not meant for you,  
there's for your Provender: Bespeak a Dinner  
For monsieur Mirabell, and his Companions,  
They'll be in Town within this hour. When you have done, Sirrah,  
Make ready all things at my Lodging, for me,  
And wait me there.  Boy. 
The Ten-Crown Ordinary?  de Ga. 
Yes Sir, if you have not forgot it.  Boy. 
I'll forget my feet first;  
'Tis the best part of a footman's faith. Exit Boy  de Ga. 
These youths  
For all they have been in Italy, to learn thrift,  
And seem to wonder at men slavish ways,  
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;  
They must meet sometimes to disport their Bodies  
With good Wine, and good Women; and good store too.  
Let'em be what they will, they are Armed at all points  
And then hang saving. Let the Sea grow high,  
This Ordinary can fit'em of all Sizes Enter La-Castre & Oriana  
They must salute their Country with old-customs.  Or. 
Brother.  de Ga. 
My dearest sister.  Or. 
Welcome, welcome:  
Indeed ye are welcome home, most welcome.  de G. 
Thank ye,  
You are grown a handsome woman Oriana,  
(Blush at your faults) I am wondrous glad to see ye.  
Monsieur La-Castre: Let not my Affection  
To my fair Sister, make me held unmannerly:  
I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty,  
Good health about ye, and in fair company,  
Believe me, I am proud—  La Ca. 
Fair Sir, I thank ye:  
monsieur de Guard, you are welcome from your journey,  
Good men, have still good welcome: give me your hand, Sir.  
Once more, you are welcome home: you look still younger.  de G. 
Time has no leisure to look after us,  
We wander, everywhere: Age cannot find us.  La C. 
And how does all?  de G. 
All well, Sir; and all lusty.  La Ca. 
I hope my Son be so, I doubt not Sir,  
But you have often seen him in your journeys,  
And bring me some fair News.  de G. 
Your Son is well, Sir,  
And grown a proper Gentleman: he is well, and lusty,  
Within this eight hours, I took leave of him,  
And overeyed him, having some flight business  
That forced me out o'th' way: I can assure you  
He will be here tonight.  La Ca. 
Ye make me glad Sir,  
For o' my faith, I almost long to see him,  
methinks he has been away—  de G. 
'Tis but your tenderness;  
What are three years? a love-sick wench will allow it?  
His friends that went out with him are come back too;  
Beleure, and young Pinac: he bid me say little,  
Because he means to be his own glad Messenger.  La C. 
I thank ye for this news, Sir, he shallbe welcome,  
And his friends too: Indeed I thank you heartily:  
And how (for I dare say, you will not flatter him)  
Has Italy wrought on him? has he mewed yet,  
His wild fantastic Toys? they say that Climate  
Is a great purger of those humorous Fluxes.  
How is he improved, I pray ye?  de G. 
No doubt Sir, well.  
H'as born himself a full, and noble Gentleman,  
To speak him farther, is beyond my Charter,  La C. 
I am glad to hear so much good: Come, I see  
You long to enjoy your Sister: yet I must entreat ye  
Before I go, to sup with me tonight  
And must not be denied.  de Ga. 
I am your servant.  La. C. 
Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble Company.  
My neighbour Natolet, and his two fair daughters.  de G. 
Your supper's seasoned well, Sir. I shall wait upon ye.  La Ca. 
Till then I'll leave ye: and y' are once more welcome.  de G. 
I thank ye, noble Sir. Now Oriana, Exit.  
How have ye done since I went? Have ye had your health well?  
And your mind free?  Or. 
You see I am not bated;  
Merry, and eat my meat.  de G. 
A good preservative.  
And how have you been used? You know Oriana,  
Upon my going out, at your request,  
I left your Portion in La-castre's hands,  
(The main Means you must stick to) for that reason  
(And 'tis no little one) I ask ye, Sister,  
With what humanity he entertains ye,  
And how ye find his courtesy?  Or. 
Most ready.  
I can assure you, Sir, I am used most nobly.  de G. 
I am glad to hear it: But I prithee tell me,  
(And tell me true) what end had you Oriana,  
In trusting your money here? He is no Kinsman,  
Nor any tie upon him of a Guardian;  
Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality.  Or. 
No, certain, Sir, none of all this provoked me;  
Another private reason.  de G. 
'Tis not private,  
Nor carried so: 'tis common (my fair Sister)  
Your love to Mirabell; your blushes tell it:  
'Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;  
And with no little shame I wonder at it.  Or. 
Is it a shame to love?  de G. 
To Love undiscreetly:  
A Virgin should be tender of her honour,  
Close, and secure.  Or. 
I am as close as can be,  
And stand upon as strong and honest guards too,  
Unless this Warlike Age need a Portcullis:  
Yet I confess, I love him.  de G. 
Hear the people.  Or. 
Now I say hang the people: He that dares  
Believe what they say, dares be mad, and give  
His Mother, nay his own Wife up to Rumor;  
All grounds of truth they build on, is a Tavern,  
And their best censure's Sack, Sack in abundance:  
For as they drink, they think: they ne'er speak modestly  
Unless the wine be poor, or they want money.  
Believe them? believe Amadis de Gaul,  
The Knight o'th' Sun, or Palmerin of England;  
For these, to them, are modest, and true stories.  
Pray understand me; if their tongues be truth,  
And if in Vino veritas be an Oracle,  
What woman is, or has been ever honest?  
Give 'em but ten round cups, they'll swear Lucretia  
Died not for want of power to resist Tarquin,  
But want of Pleasure, that he stayed no longer:  
And Portia, that was famous for her Piety  
To her loved Lord, they'll face ye out, died o'th' pox.  de G. 
Well, there is something, Sister.  Or. 
If there be, Brother,  
'Tis none of their things, 'tis not yet so monstrous;  
My thing is Marriage: And at his return  
I hope to put their squint-eyes right again.  de G. 
Marriage? 'tis true: his father is a rich man;  
Rich both in land and money: he his heir,  
A young and handsome man, I must confess too;  
But of such qualities, and such wild flings,  
Such admirable imperfections, Sister,  
(For all his travail, and bought experience)  
I should be loath to own him for my brother:  
methinks a rich mind in a state in different  
Would prove the better fortune.  Or. 
If he be wild,  
The reclaiming him to good, and honest (brother)  
Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,  
Shall be the study of my love, and life too.  de G. 
Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too.  
He marry? he'll be hanged first: he knows no more  
What the conditions and the ties of Love are,  
The honest purposes and grounds of Marriage,  
Nor will know, nor be ever brought t' endeavour,  
Than I do how to build a Church; he was ever  
A loose and strong defier of all order,  
His Loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,  
And taste each dish, but are no residents:  
Or say he may be brought to think of Marriage  
(As 't will be no small labour) thy hopes are strangers.  
I know there is a laboured match, now followed,  
(Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too)  
Be not abused, Natolet has two fair daughters,  
And he must take his choice.  Or. 
Let him take freely;  
For all this I despair not: my mind tells me  
That I, and only I, must make him perfect;  
And in that hope I rest.  de G. 
Since you're so confident  
Prosper your hope: I'll be no adversary:  
Keep yourself fair and right, he shall not wrong ye.  Or. 
When I forget my virtue, no man know me. Exeunt.   

SCENA SECUNDA.  Enter Mirabell, Pinac, Belleure, and Servants. Mir. 
Welcome to Paris once more, Gentlemen:  
We have had a merry, and a lusty Ordinary,  
And wine, and good meat, and a bouncing Reckoning;  
And let it go for once; 'Tis a good physic:  
Only the wenches are not for my diet,  
They are too lean and thin; their embraces brawn-fallen.  
Give me the plump Venetian, fat, and lusty,  
That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,  
As if a cup of full wine leapt to kiss me;  
These slight things I affect not.  Pi. 
They are ill built;  
pin-buttocked, like your dainty Barbaries,  
And weak i'th' pasterns; they'll endure no hardness.  Mir. 
There's nothing good, or handsome, bred amongst us;  
Till we are travailed, and live abroad, we are coxcombs:  
Ye talk of France, a slight, unseasoned Country;  
Abundance of gross food, which makes us blockheads:  
We are fair set-out indeed, and so are fore-horses.  
Men say we are great Courtiers, men abuse us:  
We are wise, and valiant too, non credo Signior:  
Our women the best Linguists, they are parrots;  
O' this side the Alps they are nothing but mere drolleries:  
Ha Roma la Santa, italy for my money:  
Their policies, their customs; their frugalities,  
Their courtesies so open, yet so reserved too,  
As when ye think you're known best, ye are a stranger;  
Their very pickteeth speak more man than we do,  
And season of more salt.  Pi. 
'Tis a brave Country;  
Not pestered with your stubborn precise puppies,  
That turn all useful, and allowed contentments  
To scabs and scruples; hang'em Capon-worshippers.  Bel. 
I like that freedom well, and like their women too,  
And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,  
So naturally an Ass: Look ye, I can look upon 'em,  
And very willingly I go to see 'em,  
(There's no man willinger) and I can kiss 'em,  
And make a shift—  Mir. 
But if they chance to flout ye,  
Or say ye are too bold; fie Sir remember;  
I pray sit farther off;—  Bel. 
'Tis true, I am humbled,  
I am gone, I confess ingenuously I am silenced,  
The spirit of Amber cannot force me answer.  Pi. 
Then would I sing and dance.  Bel. 
You have wherewithal, Sir.  Pi. 
And charge her up again.  Bel. 
I can be hanged first:  
Yet where I fasten well, I am a tyrant.  Mir. 
Why, thou dar'st fight?  Bel. 
Yes, certainly, I dare fight;  
And fight with any man, at any weapon,  
Would th' other were no more; but, a pox on't,  
When I am sometimes in my height of hope,  
And reasonable valiant that way, my heart hardened;  
Some scornful jest or other, chops between me  
And my desire: What would ye have me to do then, Gentlemen?  Mir. 
Belvere, ye must be bolder: Travel three years,  
And bring home such a baby to betray ye  
As bashfulness? a great fellow, and a soldier?  Bel. 
You have the gift of impudence, be thankful;  
Every man has not the like talon: I will study  
And if it may be revealed to me.  Mir. 
Learn of me,  
And of Pinac: no doubt you'll find employment;  
Ladies will look for Courtship.  Pi. 
'Tis but fleshing,  
But standing one good brunt or two: hast thou any mind to marriage?  
we'll provide thee some soft-natured wench, that's dumb too.  Mir. 
Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.  Bel. 
A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager,  
And cared not for discourse, I were excellent at.  Mir. 
You must now put on boldness, there's no avoiding it;  
And stand all hazards; fly at all games bravely;  
They'll say you went out like an Ox, and returned like an Ass else.  Bel. 
I shall make danger sure.  Mir. 
I am sent for home now,  
I know it is to marry, but my father shall pardon me,  
Although it be a witty ceremony,  
And may concern me hereafter in my gravity;  
I will not lose the freedom of a Traveller;  
A new strong lusty Bark cannot ride at one anchor;  
Shall I make divers suits to show to the same eyes?  
'Tis dull, and homespun: Study several pleasures,  
And want employments for'em? I'll be hanged first;  
Tie me to one smock? make my travels fruitless?  
I'll none of that: For every fresh behaviour,  
By your leave, father, I must have a fresh Mistress,  
And a fresh favour too.  Bel. 
I like that passingly;  
As many as you will, so they be willing;  
Willing, and gentle, gentle.  Pi. 
There's no reason  
A Gentleman, and a Traveller, should be clapped up,  
For 'tis a kind of Baeboes to be married  
Before he manifest to the world his good parts:  
Tug ever like at a rascal at one oar?  
Give me the Italian liberty.  Mir. 
That I study;  
And that I will enjoy: Come, go in Gentlemen,  
There mark how I behave myself, and follow. Exeunt.   

SCENA TERTIA.  Enter La-Castre, Natolet, Lugien, Rosa Lieura, Lylia-Biancha. La C. 
You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome,  
Beshrew my blood they are fair ones; welcome Beauties,  
Welcome sweet birds.  Na. 
They are bound much to your courtesies.  La Ca. 
I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.  Na. 
That's my hope too.  Na. 
For certain, Sir, I much desire your Alliance.  
You see 'em, they are no gipsies; for their breeding,  
It has not been so coarse, but they are able  
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;  
Indeed they have been trained well.  Lug. 
Thank me.  Na. 
Fit for the heirs of that state I shall leave 'em;  
To say more, is to sell 'em. They say your son  
Now he has travailed must be wondrous curious,  
And choice in what he takes: These are no coarse ones;  
Sir, here's a merry wench, let him look to himself,  
(All heart, i'faith) may chance to startle him;  
For all his care and travailed caution,  
May creep into his eye; if he love Gravity,  
Affect a solemn face, there's one will fit him.  La C. 
So young, and so demure?  Na. 
She is my daughter,  
Else I would tell you, Sir, she is a Mistress  
Both of those manners, and that modesty,  
You would wonder at: She is no often speaker,  
But when she does, she speaks well; Nor no Reveller,  
Yet she can dance, and has studied the Court Elements,  
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,  
With the decency of her sex, may be a Scholar,  
I can assure ye, Sir, she understands too.  La C. 
These are fit Garments, Sir.  Lug. 
Thank them that cut 'em:  
Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too;  
Pretty becoming parts.  La C. 
'Tis like they have, Sir.  Lug. 
Yes, yes, and handsome Education they have had too:  
Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it;  
I taught it, I'll avouch it.  La C. 
Ye say well, Sir.  Lug. 
I know what I say, Sir, and I say but right, Sir.  
I am no trumpet of their commendations  
Before their father; else I should say farther.  La C. 
Pray ye, what's this Gentleman?  Na. 
One that lives with me, Sir;  
A man well bred and learned, but blunt and bitter,  
Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in't:  
Many fair gifts he has, in some of which  
That lie most easy to their understandings,  
Has handsomely bred up my girls, I thank him.  
I have put it to 'em, that's my part, I have urged it,  
It seems they are of years now to take hold on't.  Na. 
He's wondrous blunt.  La C. 
By my faith I was afraid of him:  
Does he not fall out with the Gentlewomen sometimes?  Na. 
No, no; he's that way moderate, and discreet, Sir.  Ros. 
If he did, we should be too hard for him.  Lug. 
Well said Sulphur:  
Too hard for thy husband's head, if he wear not armour.  Na. 
Many of these bickerings, Sir. Enter Mirabell, Pinac, de Guard, and Oriana.  La C. 
I am glad they are no Oracles:  
Sure, as I live, he beats them, he's so puissant.  Or. 
Well, if ye do forget—  Mir. 
Prithee hold thy peace;  
I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov'st me,  
Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on't,  
And a fit place: I'll ease thy heart, I warrant thee:  
Thou seest I have much to do now.  Or. 
I am answered, Sir:  
With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions.  de G. 
Your father, and your friends.  La C. 
You are welcome home, Sir;  
'Bless ye, ye are very welcome.  
Pray know this Gentleman,  
And these fair Ladies.  Na. 
Monsieur Mirabell,  
I am much affected with your fair return, Sir:  
You bring a general joy.  Mir. 
I bring you service,  
And these bright beauties, Sir.  Na. 
Welcome home, Gentlemen,  
Welcome, with all my heart.  Bel. Pi. 
We thank ye, Sir.  La C. 
Your friends will have their share too.  Bel. 
Sir, we hope  
They'll look upon us, though we show like strangers.  Na. 
Monsieur de-Gard, I must salute you also,  
And this fair Gentlewoman: you are welcome from your Travel too.  
All welcome, all.  de G. 
We render ye our loves, Sir;  
The best wealth we bring home: By your favours, Beauties,  
One of these two: you know my meaning.  Or. 
Well Sir;  
They are fair and handsome, I must needs confess it;  
And let it prove the worst, I shall live after it,  
Whilst I have meat & drink, Love can not starve me;  
For if I die o'th' first fit, I am unhappy,  
And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.  Mir. 
To marry, Sir?  La C. 
You know I am an old man,  
And every hour declining to my grave,  
One foot already in, more sons I have not,  
Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy,  
In you lies all my hope, and all my name,  
The making good or wretched of my memory,  
The safety of my state.  Mir. 
And you have provided  
Out of this tenderness this handsome Gentlewoman,  
Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?  La C. 
I have, dear son.  Mir. 
'Tis true, ye are old, and feebled;  
Would ye were young again, and in full vigour;  
I love a bounteous father's life, a long one,  
I am none of those that when they shoot to ripeness,  
Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on:  
I wish ye many years, and many riches,  
And pleasures to enjoy 'em: But for Marriage,  
I neither yet believe in't, nor affect it,  
Nor think it fit.  La. C. 
You will render me your reasons?  Mir. 
Yes, Sir, both short and pithy; and these they are:  
You would have me marry a Maid?  La C. 
A Maid? what else?  Mir. 
Yes, there be things called Widows, dead-men's Wills,  
I never loved to prove those; nor never longed yet  
To be buried alive in another's man's cold Monument.  
And there be Maids appearing, and Maids being:  
The appearing, are fantastic things, mere shadows;  
And if you mark 'em well, they want their heads too;  
Only the world, to cozen misty eyes,  
Has clapped 'em on new faces. The Maids being,  
A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry;  
If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;  
And let him take heed how he gather these too;  
For look ye, father, they are just like Melons,  
muskmelons are the Emblems of these Maids;  
Now they are ripe, now cut 'em, they taste pleasantly,  
And are a dainty fruit, digested easily:  
Neglect this present time, and come tomorrow,  
They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness  
Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.  La. C. 
Why these are now ripe son.  Mir. 
I'll try them presently,  
And if I like their taste—  La. C. 
Pray ye please yourself, Sir.  Mir. 
That liberty is my due, and I'll maintain it.  
Lady, what think you of a handsome man now?  Ros. 
A wholesome too, Sir.  Mir. 
That's as you make your bargain.  
A handsome, wholesome man then, and a kind man,  
To cheer your heart up, to rejoice ye, Lady?  Ros. 
Yes, Sir, I love rejoicing.  Mir. 
To lie close to ye?  
Close as a cockle? keep the cold nights from ye?  Ros. 
That will be looked for too, our bodies ask it.  Mir. 
And get two Boys at every birth?  Ros. 
That's nothing,  
I have known a Cobbler do it, a poor thin Cobbler;  
A Cobbler out of mouldy cheese perform it,  
Cabbage, and coarse black bread: methinks a Gentleman  
Should take foul scorn to have a Nawl out-name him.  
Two at a birth? why every House-dove has it:  
That man that feeds well, promises as well too,  
I should expect indeed something of worth from.  
Ye talk of two?  Mir. 
She would have me get two dozen,  
Like Buttons, at a birth.  Ros. 
You love to brag, Sir.  
If you proclaim these offers at your Marriage,  
Ye are a pretty timbered man, take heed,  
They may be taken hold of, and expected,  
Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.  Mir. 
I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel:  
Father, what think ye?  La C. 
'Tis a merry Gentlewoman;  
Will make, no doubt, a good wife.  Mir. 
Not for me:  
I marry her, and happily get nothing;  
In what a state am I then? Father, I shall suffer  
For any thing I hear to the contrary, more majorum,  
I were as sure to be a Cuckold, Father,  
A Gentleman of Antler.  La C. 
Away, away fool.  Mir. 
As I am sure to fail her expectation,  
I had rather get the pox than get her babies.  La C. 
Ye are much too blame; if this do not affect ye,  
Pray try the other; she is of a more demure way.  Bel. 
That I had but the audacity to talk thus!  
I love that plain-spoken Gentlewoman admirably,  
And certain I could go as near to please her,  
If downright doing— she has a perilous countenance,  
If I could meet one that would believe me,  
And take my honest meaning without circumstance.  Mir. 
You shall have your will, Sir, I will try the other,  
But 'twill be to small use. I hope, fair Lady  
(For methinks in your eyes I see more mercy)  
You will enjoin your Lover a less penance;  
And though I'll promise much, as men are liberal,  
And vow an ample sacrifice of service,  
Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,  
And thriftiness in Love, good housewife's carefulness  
To keep the stock entire—  Lyl. 
Good Sir, speak louder,  
That these may witness too ye talk of nothing,  
I should be loath alone to bear the burden  
Of so much indiscretion.  Mir. 
Hark ye, hark ye;  
Od's-bobs, you are angry, Lady.  Lyl. 
Angry? no, Sir;  
I never owned an anger to lose poorly.  Mir. 
But you can love, for all this, and delight too,  
For all your set-austerity, to hear  
Of a good husband, Lady?  Lyl. 
You say true, Sir:  
For by my troth, I have heard of none these ten year,  
They are so rare, and there are so many, Sir,  
So many longing-women on their knees too,  
That pray the drooping down of these good husbands,  
The drooping down from heaven: for they are not bred here,  
That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing—  Mir. 
Why may not I be one?  Lyl. 
You were near 'em once, Sir,  
When ye came o'er the Alps; those are near heaven:  
But since ye missed that happiness, there's no hope of ye.  Mir. 
Can ye love a man?  Lyl. 
Yes, if the man be lovely;  
That is, be honest, modest: I would have him valiant,  
His anger slow, but certain for his honour;  
Travailed he should be, but through himself exactly;  
For 'tis fairer to know manners well, than Countries;  
He must be no vain talker, nor no Lover  
To hear himself talk, they are brags of a wanderer,  
Of one finds no retreict for fair behaviour;  
Would ye learn more?  Mir. 
Yes.  Lyl. 
Learn to hold your peace then,  
Fond girls are got with tongues, women with tempers.  Mir. 
Women, with I know what; but let that vanish:  
Go thy way goodwife Bias; sure thy husband  
Must have a strong philosopher's stone, he will ne'er please thee else.  
here's a starched piece of Austerity: do you hear, father?  
Do you hear this moral Lecture?  La C. 
Yes, and like it.  Mir. 
Why there's your judgement now; there's an old bolt shot:  
This Thing must have the strangest observation,  
Do you mark me (father?) when she is married once,  
The strangest custom too of admiration  
On all she does and speaks, 'twill be past sufferance;  
I must not lie with her in common language,  
Nor cry, have at thee Kate, I shall be hissed then;  
Nor eat my meat without the sauce of Sentences,  
Your powdered beef, and problems, a rare diet;  
My first son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it,  
Great Master of the Metaphysics, or so;  
The second Solon, and the best Law-setter;  
And I must look Egyptian Godfathers,  
Which will be no small trouble: My eldest daughter  
Sapho, or such a fidling kind of Poetess,  
And brought up, invita Minerva, at her needle.  
My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,  
Lelaps, Melampus: no more Fox and Baudiface.  
I married to a sullen set of Sentences?  
To one that weighs her words and her behaviours  
In the Goldweights of discretion? I'll be hanged first.  La C. 
Prithee reclaim thyself.  Mir. 
Pray ye give me time then;  
If they can set me any thing to play at,  
That seems fit for a Gamester, have at the fairest  
Till I see more, and try more.  L. C. 
Take your time then,  
I'll bar ye no fair liberty: Come Gentlemen,  
And Ladies, come; to all once more a welcome,  
And now let's in to supper.  Mir. 
How dost like 'em?  Pi. 
They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours.  Mir 
Too strange for me; I must have those have mettle,  
And mettle to my mind: Come let's be merry.  Bel. 
'Bless me from this woman: I would stand the Cannon  
Before ten words of hers.  de Ga. 
Do you find him now?  
Do you think he will be ever firm?  Or. 
I fear not. Exeunt.    


Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.  Enter Mirabell, Pinac, Bellure. Mir. 
ne'er tell me of this happiness, 'tis nothing;  
The state they bring with being sought to scurvy,  
I had rather make mine own play, and I will do.  
My happiness is in mine own content,  
And the despising of such glorious trifles,  
As I have done a thousand more. For my humour  
Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me,  
A jovial fair companion; there's a Beauty:  
For women, I can have too many of them;  
Good women too, as the Age reckons 'em,  
More than I have employment for.  Pi. 
You are happy.  Mir. 
My only fear is, that I must be forced  
Against my nature, to conceal myself.  
Health, and an able body are two jewels.  Pi. 
If either of these two women were offered to me now,  
I would think otherwise, and do accordingly:  
Yes, and recant my heresies, I would Sir;  
And be more tender of opinion,  
And put a little off my travailed Liberty  
Out of the way, and look upon 'em seriously.  
Methinks this grave-carried wench.  Bel. 
Methinks the other,  
The home-spoken Gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful,  
That treats of the full manage of the matter,  
For there lies all my aim; that wench, methinks  
If I were but well set on; for she is a fable,  
If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me;  
She speaks to th' matter, and comes home to th' point:  
Now do I know I have such a body to please her,  
As all the kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on't,  
If I could but talk myself into her favour.  Mir. 
That's easily done.  Bel. 
That's easily said, would 'twere done;  
You should see then how I would lay about me;  
If I were virtuous, it would never grieve me,  
Or any thing that might justify my modesty,  
But when my nature is prone to do a charity,  
And my calfs-tongue will not help me.  Mir. 
Will ye go to 'em?  
They cannot but take it courteously.  Pi. 
I'll do my part,  
Though I am sure 'twill be the hardest I e'er played yet,  
A way I never tried too, which will stagger me,  
And if it do not shame me, I am happy.  Mir. 
Win 'em, and wear 'em, I give up my interest.  Pi. 
What say ye, monsieur Bellure?  Bel. 
Would I could say,  
Or sing, or any thing that were but handsome,  
I would be with her presently.  Pi. 
Yours is no venture;  
A merry ready wench.  Bel. 
A vengeance squibber;  
She'll fleer me out of faith too.  Mir. 
I'll be near thee;  
Pluck up thy heart, I'll second thee at all brunts;  
Be angry if she abuse thee, and beat her a little,  
Some women are won that way.  Bel. 
Pray be quiet,  
And let me think: I am resolved to go on;  
But how I shall get off again—  Mir. 
I am persuaded  
Thou wilt so please her, she will go near to ravish thee.  Bel. 
I would 'twere come to that once: Let me pray a little.  Mir. 
Now for thine honour Pinac; board me this modesty ⟨…⟩  
Warm but this frozen snowball, 'twill be a conquest  
(Although I know thou art a fortunate Wencher,  
And hast done rarely in thy days) above all thy ventures.  Bel. 
You will be ever near?  Mir. 
At all necessities,  
And take thee off, and set thee on again, Boy;  
And cherish thee, and stroke thee.  Bel. 
Help me out too?  
For I know I shall stick 'i'th' mire: if ye see us close once,  
Be gone, and leave me to my fortune, suddenly,  
For I am then determined to do wonders.  
Farewell, and fling an old shoe: how my heart throbs?  
Would I were drunk: Farewell Pinac; heaven send us  
A joyful and a merry meeting, man.  Pi. 
Farewell,  
And cheer thy heart up; and remember Bellure  
They are but women.  Bel. 
I had rather they were lions.  Mir. 
About it; Ill be with you instantly. Exeunt.  
Shall I ne'er be at rest? no peace of conscience? Enter Oriana.  
No quiet for these creatures? Am I ordained  
To be devoured quick by these she-Canibals?  
Here's another they call handsome, I care not for her,  
I ne'er look after her: When I am half tippled  
It may be I should turn her, and peruse her,  
Or in my want of women, I might call for her;  
But to be haunted when I have no fancy,  
No maw to th' matter— Now, why do you follow me?  Or. 
I hope, Sir, 'tis no blemish to my virtue,  
Nor need you (out of scruple) ask that question,  
If you remember ye, before your Travel  
The contract you tied to me: 'tis my love, Sir,  
That makes me seek ye, to confirm your memory,  
And that being fair and good, I cannot suffer:  
I come to give ye thanks too.  Mir. 
For what prethee?  Or. 
For that fair piece of honesty ye showed, Sir,  
That constant nobleness.  Mir. 
How? for I am short headed.  Or. 
I'll tell ye then; for refusing that free offer  
Of Monsieur Nantolet's; those handsome Beauties,  
Those two prime Ladies, that might well have pressed ye,  
If not to have broken, yet to have bowed your promise.  
I know it was for my sake, for your faith' sake,  
You slipped 'em off: your honesty compelled ye.  
And let me tell ye, Sit, it showed most handsomely.  Mir. 
And let me tell thee, there was no such matter:  
Nothing intended that way of that nature;  
I have more to do with my honesty than to fool it,  
Or venture it in such leak barks as women;  
I put 'em off, because I loved 'em not,  
Because they are too queasy for my temper,  
And not for thy sake, nor the contract's sake,  
Nor vows, nor oaths, I have made a thousand of 'em,  
They are things indifferent, whether kept or broken;  
Mere venial slips, that grow not near the Conscience;  
Nothing concerns those tender parts; they are trifles;  
For, as I think, there was never man yet hoped for  
Either constancy, or secrecy, from a woman,  
Unless it were an Ass ordained for sufferance;  
Nor to contract with such can be a trial;  
So let them know again; for 'tis a Justice,  
And a main point of civil policy,  
whate'er we say or swear, they being Reprobates,  
Out of the state of faith, we are clear of all sides,  
And 'tis a curious blindness to believe us.  Or. 
You do not mean this sure?  Mir. 
Yes sure, and certain,  
And hold it positively, as a Principle,  
As ye are strange things, and made of strange fires and fluxes,  
So we are allowed as strange ways to obtain ye,  
But not to hold; we are all created Errant.  Or. 
You told me other tales.  Mir. 
I not deny it;  
I have tales of all sorts for all sorts of women,  
And protestations likewise of all sizes,  
As they have vanities to make us coxcombs;  
If I obtain a good turn, so it is,  
I am thankful for it: if I be made an Ass,  
The mends are in mine own hands, or the Surgeons,  
And there's an end on't.  Or. 
Do not you love me then?  Mir. 
As I love others, heartily I love thee,  
When I am high and lusty, I love thee cruelly  
After I have made a plenteous meal, and satisfied  
My senses with all delicates, come to me,  
And thou shalt see how I love thee.  Or. 
Will not you marry me?  Mir. 
No, certain, no, for any thing I know yet;  
I must not lose my liberty, dear Lady,  
And like a wanton slave cry for more shackles.  
What should I marry for? Do I want any thing?  
Am I an inch the farther from my pleasure?  
Why should I be at charge to keep a wife of mine own,  
When other honest married men will ease me?  
And thank me too, and be beholding to me:  
Thou thinkst I am mad for a Maidenhead, thou art cozened;  
Or if I were addicted to that diet  
Can you tell me where I should have one? thou art eighteen now,  
And if thou hast thy Maidenhead yet extant,  
Sure 'tis as big as Codshead: and those grave dishes  
I never love to deal withal: Dost thou see this book here?  
Look over all these ranks; all these are Women,  
Maids, and pretenders to Maidenheads; these are my conquests,  
All these I swore to marry, as I swore to thee,  
With the same reservation, and most righteously,  
Which I need not have done neither, for alas they made no scruple,  
And I enjoyed 'em at my will, and left 'em:  
Some of 'em are married since, and were as pure maids again,  
Nay o' my conscience better than they were bred for;  
The rest fine sober women.  Or. 
Are ye not ashamed, Sir?  Mir. 
No by my troth, Sir; there's no shame belongs to it;  
I hold it as commendable to be wealthy in pleasure,  
As others do in rotten sheep, and pasture. Enter de Gard.  Or. 
Are all my hopes come to this? is their no faith?  
No troth? nor modesty in men?  de Ga. 
How now Sister,  
Why weeping thus? did I not prophesy?  
Come tell me why—.  Or. 
I am not well; pray ye pardon me. Exit.  de Ga. 
Now Monsieur Mirabeli, what ails my Sister?  
You have been playing the wag with her.  Mir. 
As I take it,  
She is crying for a codpiece; is she gone?  
Lord, what an Age is this? I was calling for ye,  
For as I live I thought she would have ravished me.  de Ga. 
Ye are merry Sir.  Mir. 
Thou know'st this book, de Guard, this Inventory.  de Ga. 
The Debt-book of your mistresses, I remember it.  Mir. 
Why this was it that angered her; she was stark mad  
She found not her name here, and cried downright,  
Because I would not pity her immediately,  
And put her in my list.  de G. 
Sure she had more modesty.  Mir. 
Their modesty is anger to be overdone;  
They'll quarrel sooner for precedence here,  
And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted,  
Than they will in public meetings; 'tis their natures:  
And alas I have so many to dispatch yet,  
And to provide myself for my affairs too,  
That in good faith—  de G. 
Be not too glorious foolish;  
Sum not your Travails up with vanities,  
It ill becomes your expectation:  
Temper your speech, Sir; whether your loose story  
Be true, or false (for you are so free, I fear it)  
Name not my Sister in't; I must not hear it;  
Upon your danger name her not: I hold her  
A Gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage,  
A good man's tongue may be right proud to speak her.  Mir. 
Your Sister, Sir? d'ye blench at that? d'ye cavil?  
Do you hold her such a piece, she may not be played withal?  
I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler,  
Has sued to me too for such a courtesy:  
Your Sister comes i'th' rear: since ye are so angry,  
And hold your Sister such a strong Recusant,  
I tell ye I may do it, and it may be will too,  
It may be have too; there's my free confession;  
Work upon that now.  de G. 
If I thought ye had, I would work,  
And work such stubborn work, should make your heart ache;  
But I believe ye, as I ever knew ye,  
A glorious talker, and a Legend maker  
Of idle tales, and trifles; a depraver  
Of your own truth; their honours fly about ye;  
And so I take my leave, but with this caution,  
Your sword be surer than your tongue, you'll smart else.  Mir. 
I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee;  
And I'll talk louder, and despise thy Sister;  
Set up a Chambermaid that shall outshine her,  
And carry her in my Coach too, and that will kill her.  
Go get thy Rents up, go.  de Ga. 
Ye are a fine Gentleman. Exit.  Mir. 
Now have at my two youths, I'll see how they do,  
How they behave themselves, and then I'll study  
What wench shall love me next, and when I'll lose her. Exit.   

SCENA SECUNDA.  Enter Pinac and a Servant. Pi. 
Art thou her servant, sayst thou?  Ser. 
Her poor creature,  
But servant to her horse, Sir.  Pi. 
Canst thou show me  
The way to her chamber? or where I may conveniently  
See her, or come to talk to her?  Ser. 
That I can, Sir;  
But the question is whether I will or no.  Pi. 
Why I'll content thee.  Ser. 
Why I'll content thee then; now ye come to me.  Pi. 
There's for your diligence.  Ser. 
There's her chamber, Sir;  
And this way she comes out; stand ye but here, Sir,  
You have her at your prospect, or your pleasure.  Pi. 
Is she not very angry?  Ser. 
You'll find that quickly:  
'May be she'll call ye saucy scurvy fellow,  
Or some such familiar name:' may be she knows ye,  
And will fling a Pisspot at ye, or a Pantofle,  
According as ye are in acquaintance: if she like ye,  
'May be she'll look upon ye,' may be no,  
And two months hence call for ye.  Pi. 
This is fine.  
She is monstrous proud then?  Ser. 
She is a little haughty;  
Of a small body, she has a mind well mounted.  
Can ye speak Greek?  Pi. 
No certain.  Ser. 
Get ye gone then;  
And talk of stars, and firmaments, and fire-drakes,  
Do you remember who was Adam's Schoolmaster,  
And who taught Eve to spin? she knows all these,  
And will run ye over the beginning o'th' world  
As familiar as a Fiddler.  
Can ye sit seven hours together, and say nothing?  
Which she will do, and when she speaks speak Oracles;  
Speak things that no man understands, nor herself neither.  Pi. 
Thou mak'st me wonder.  Ser. 
Can ye smile?  Pi. 
Yes willingly:  
For naturally I bear a mirth about me.  Ser. 
She'll ne'er endure ye then; she is never merry;  
If she see one laugh, she'll swoon past Aquavitae:  
Never come near her, Sir; if ye chance to venture,  
And talk not like a Doctor, you are damned too;  
I have told ye enough for your Crown, and so good speed ye. Ex.  Pi. 
I have a pretty task, if she be thus curious,  
As sure it seems she is; if I fall off now,  
I shall be laughed at fearfully; if I go forward,  
I can but be abused, and that I look for,  
And yet I may hit right, but 'tis unlikely.  
Stay, in what mood and figure shall I attempt her?  
A careless way? no, no, that will not waken her;  
Besides, her gravity will give me line still,  
And let me lose myself; yet this way often  
Has hit, and handsomely. A wanton method?  
ay, if she give it leave to sink into her consideration;  
But there's the doubt: if it but stir her blood once,  
And creep into the crannies of her fancy,  
Set her a gog: but if she chance to slight it,  
And by the power of her modesty fling it back,  
I shall appear the arrantst Rascal to her,  
The most licentious knave, for I shall talk lewdly.  
To bear myself austerely? rate my words,  
And fling a general gravity about me,  
As if I meant to give Laws? but this I cannot do,  
This is a way above my understanding;  
Or if I could, 'tis odds she'll think I mock her;  
For serious and sad things are ever still suspicious.  
Well, I'll say something.  
But learning I have none, and less good manners,  
Especially for Ladies; well, I'll set my best face; Enter Lilia, Petella.  
I hear some coming; this is the first woman  
I ever feared yet, the first face that shakes me.  Li. 
Give me my hat Petella, take this veil off,  
This sullen cloud, it darkens my delights;  
Come wench be free, and let the Music warble,  
Play me some lusty measure.  Pi. 
This is she sure,  
The very same I saw, the very woman,  
The Gravity I wondered at: Stay, stay,  
Let me be sure; ne'er trust me, but she danceth,  
Summer is in her face now, and she skippeth:  
I'll go a little nearer.  Lil. 
Quicker time fellows, Enter Mirabell  
I cannot find my legs yet, now Petella.  Pi. 
I am amazed, I am foundered in my fancy.  Mir. 
Hah, say ye so; is this your gravity?  
This the austerity ye put upon ye?  
I'll see more o''is sport.  Lil. 
A Song now;  
Call in for a merry, and a light Song,  
And sing it with a liberal spirit. Enter a man.  Man. 
Yes, Madam.  Lil. 
And be not amazed sirrah, but take us for your own company.  
Let's walk ourselves; come wench, would we had a man or two.  Pi. 
Sure she has spied me, and will abuse me dreadfully,  
She has put on this for the purpose; yet I will try her.  
Madam, I would be loath my rude intrusion,  
Which I must crave a pardon for—  Lil. 
O ye are welcome,  
Ye are very welcome, Sir, we want such a one;  
Strike up again: I dare presume ye dance well:  
Quick, quick, Sir, quick, the time steals on.  Pi. 
I would talk with ye.  Lil. 
Talk as ye dance.  Mir. 
She'll beat him off his legs first.  
This is the finest Masque.  Lil. 
Now how do ye, Sir?  Pi. 
You have given me a shrewd heat.  Lil. 
I'll give ye a hundred.  
Come sing now, sing; for I know ye sing well.  
I see ye have a singing face.  Pi. 
A fine Modesty!  
If I could she'd never give me breath,  
Madam would I might sit and recover.  Lil. 
Sit here, and sing now,  
Let's do things quickly, Sir, and handsomely,  
Sit close wench, close, begin, begin. Song.  Pi. 
I am lessoned.  Lil. 
'Tis very pretty i'faith, give me some wine now.  Pi. 
I would fain speak to ye.  Lil. 
You shall drink first, believe me:  
Here's to ye a lusty health.  Pi. 
I thank ye Lady.  
Would I were off again; I smell my misery;  
I was never put to this rack; I shall be drunk too.  Mir. 
If thou be'st not a right one, I have lost mine aim much:  
I thank heaven that I have scaped thee: To her Pinac;  
For thou art as sure to have her, and to groan for her—  
I'll see how my other youth does; this speeds trimly:  
A fine grave Gentlewoman, and worth much honour. Exit.  Lil. 
Now? how do ye like me, Sir?  Pi. 
I like ye rarely.  Lil. 
Ye see, Sir, though sometimes we are grave and silent,  
And put on sadder dispositions,  
Yet we are compounded of free parts, and sometimes too  
Our lighter, airy, and our fiery mettles  
Break out, and show themselves; and what think you of that Sir?  Pi. 
Good Lady sit, for I am very weary;  
And then I'll tell ye.  Lil. 
Fie, a young man idle:  
Up, and walk; be still in action.  
The motions of the body are fair beauties,  
Besides 'tis cold; ods-me Sir, let's walk faster.  
What think ye now of the Lady Felicia?  
And Bellafronte the Duke's fair daughter? ha?  
Are they not handsome things? there is Duarta,  
And brown Olivia.  Pi. 
I know none of'em.  Lil. 
But brown must not be cast away, Sir; if young Lelia  
Had kept herself till this day from a husband,  
Why what a Beauty, Sir? you know Ismena  
The fair gem of Saint Germain's?  Pi. 
By my troth I do not.  Lil. 
And then I know you must hear of Brisac,  
How unlike a Gentleman—  Pi. 
As I live I have heard nothing.  Lil. 
Strike me another Galliard.  Pi. 
By this light I cannot;  
In troth I have sprained my leg, Madam.  Lil. 
Now sit ye down, Sir,  
And tell me why ye came hither, why ye chose me out?  
What is your business? your errant? dispatch, dispatch;  
'May be ye are some Gentleman's man, and I mistook ye,  
That have brought me a Letter, or a haunch of Venison,  
Sent me from some friend of mine.  Pi. 
Do I look like a Carrier?  
You might allow me what I am, a Gentleman.  Lil. 
Cry 'ye mercy, Sir, I saw ye yesterday,  
You are new come out of Travail, I mistook ye;  
And how does all our impudent friends in italy?  Pi. 
Madam, I came with duty, and fair courtesy,  
Service, and honour to ye.  Lil. 
Ye came to jeer me:  
Ye see I am merry, Sir, I have changed my copy:  
None of the Sages now, and pray ye proclaim it,  
Fling on me what aspersion you shall please, Sir,  
Of wantonness, or wildness, I look for it;  
And tell the world I am an hypocrite  
Mask in a forced and borrowed shape, I expect it;  
But not to have you believed; for mark ye, Sir,  
I have won a nobler estimation,  
A stronger tie by my discretion  
Upon opinion( howe'er you think I forced it)  
Than either tongue or art of yours can slubbber,  
And when I please I will be what I please, Sir,  
So I exceed not Mean; and none shall brand it  
Either with scorn or shame, but shall be slighted.  Pi. 
Lady, I come to love ye.  Lil. 
Love yourself, Sir.  
And when I want observers, 'll send for ye:  
Heigh, ho; my fit's almost off, for we do all by fits, Sir:  
If ye be weary, sit till I come again to ye. Exit.  Pi. 
This is a wench of a dainty spirit; but hang me if I know yet  
Either what to think, or make of her; She had her will of me,  
And baited me abundantly, I thank her.  
And I confess I never was so blurted,  
Nor never so abused; I must bear mine own sins;  
Ye talk of Travails, here's a curious Country,  
Yet I will find her out, or forswear my faculty. Exit.   

SCENA TERTIA.  Enter Rosalura, and Oriana. Ros. 
ne'er vex yourself, nor grieve; ye are a fool then.  Or. 
I am sure I am made so: yet before I suffer  
Thus like a girl, and give him leave to triumph—  Ros. 
You say right; for as long as he perceives ye  
Sink under his proud scornings, he'll laugh at ye:  
For me, secure yourself; and for my Sister,  
I partly know her mind too: howsoever  
To obey my Father we have made a tender  
Of our poor beauties to the travailed monsieur;  
Yet two words to a bargain; he slights us  
As skittish things, and we shun him as curious.  
May be my free behaviour turns his stomach,  
And makes him seem to doubt a loose opinion.  
I must be so sometimes, though all the world saw it.  Or. 
Why should not ye? Are our minds only measured?  
As long as here ye stand secure.  Ros. 
Ye say true;  
As long as mine own conscience makes no question,  
What care I for Report: That woman's miserable  
That's good or bad for their tongue's sake: Come let's retire.  
And get my veil wench: By my troth your sorrow,  
And the consideration of men's humorous maddings,  
Have put me into a serious contemplation. Enter Mirabell and Bellure.  Or. 
Come 'faith, let's sit and think.  Ros. 
That's all my business.  Mir. 
Why standst thou peeping here? thou great slug, forward.  Bel. 
She is there, peace.  Mir. 
Why standst thou here then,  
Sneaking, and peaking, as thou wouldst steal linen?  
Hast thou not place and time?  Bel. 
I had a rare speech  
Studied, and almost ready, and your violence  
Has beat it out of my brains.  Mir. 
Hang your rare speeches,  
Go me on like a man.  Bel. 
Let me set my Beard up.  
How has Pinac performed?  Mir. 
He has won already:  
He stands not thrumming of caps thus.  Bel. 
Lord, what should I ail?  
What a cold I have over my stomach; would I had some Hum.  
Certain I have a great mind to be at her:  
A mighty mind.  Mir. 
On fool.  Bel. 
Good words, I beseech ye;  
For I will not be abused by both.  Mir. 
Adieu, then,  
I will not trouble you, I see you are valiant,  
And work your own way.  Bel. 
Hist, hist, I will be ruled  
I will i'faith, I will go presently:  
Will ye forsake me now and leave me i'th' suds:  
You know I am false-hearted this way; I beseech ye;  
Good sweet Mirabell; I'll cut your throat if ye leave me,  
Indeed I will sweet heart.  Mir. 
I will be ready,  
Still at thine elbow; take a man's heart to thee,  
And speak thy mind: the plainer still the better.  
She is a woman of that free behaviour,  
Indeed that common courtesy, she cannot deny thee;  
Go bravely on.  Bel. 
Madam— keep close about me,  
Still at my back. Madam, sweet Madam.  Ros. 
Ha;  
What noise is that, what saucy sound to trouble me?  Mir. 
What said she?  Bel. 
I am saucy.  Mir. 
'Tis the better.  Bel. 
She comes; must I be saucy still?  Mir. 
More saucy.  Ros. 
Still troubled with these vanities? heaven bless us;  
What are we born to? would ye speak with any of my people?  
Go in, Sir, I am busy.  Bel. 
This is not she sure:  
Is this two children at a Birth? I'll be hanged then:  
Mine was a merry Gentlewoman, talked daintily,  
Talked of those matters that befitted women;  
This is a parcel-prayerbook; I'm served sweetly;  
And now I am to look too; I was prepared for th' other way.  Ros. 
Do you know that man?  Or. 
Sure I have seen him, Lady.  Ros. 
Methinks 'tis pity such a lusty fellow  
Should wander up and down and want employment.  Bel. 
She takes me for a Rogue: you may do well Madam,  
To stay this wanderer, and set him awork, forsooth,  
He can do something that may please your Ladyship.  
I have heard of women that desire good breedings,  
Two at a birth, or so.  Ros. 
The fellow's impudent.  Or. 
Sure he is crazed.  Ros. 
I have heard of men too that have had good manners;  
Sure this is want of grace; indeed 'tis great pity  
The young man has been bred so ill; but this lewd Age  
Is full of such examples.  Bel. 
I am foundered,  
And some shall rue the setting of me on.  Mir. 
Ha? so bookish, Lady, is it possible?  
Turned holy at the heart too? I'll be hanged then:  
Why this is such a feat, such an activity,  
Such fast and loose: a veil too for your knavery?  
O dio, dio!  Ros. 
What do you take me for, Sir?  Mir. 
An hypocrite, a wanton, a dissembler,  
howe'er ye seem, and thus ye are to be handled.  
Mark me Bellure, and this you love, I know it.  Ros. 
Stand off, bold Sir.  Mir. 
You wear good clothes to this end,  
Jewels, love Feasts, and Masques.  Ros. 
Ye are monstrous saucy.  Mir. 
All this to draw on fools? and thus, thus Lady,  
Ye are to be lulled.  Bel. 
Let her alone, I'll swinge ye else,  
I will i'faith; for though I cannot skill o''is matter  
myself, I will not see another do it before me,  
And do it worse.  Ros. 
Away, ye are a vain thing;  
You have travailed far Sir, to return again  
A windy and poor Bladder: you talk of women,  
That are not worth the favour of a common one;  
The grace of her grew in an Hospital:  
Against a thousand such blown fooleries  
I am able to maintain good women's honours,  
Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it.  Mir. 
She has almost struck me dumb too.  Ros. 
And declaim  
Against your base malicious tongues; your noises;  
For they are nothing else: You teach behaviours?  
Or touch us for our freedoms? teach yourselves manners,  
Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly  
That our lives may shine in ye; and then task us:  
It seems ye are hot, the suburbs will supply ye,  
Good women scorn such Gamesters; so I'll leave ye.  
I am sorry to see this; 'faith Sir live fairly. Exit.  Mir. 
This woman, if she hold on, may be virtuous,  
'Tis almost possible: we'll have a new day.  Bel. 
Ye brought me on, ye forced me to this foolery;  
I am shamed, I am scorned, I am flirted; yes, I am so:  
Though I cannot talk to a woman like your worship,  
And use my phrases, and my learned figures,  
Yet I can fight with any man.  Mir. 
Fie.  Bel. 
I can, Sir,  
And I will fight.  Mir. 
With whom?  Bel. 
With you, with any man;  
For all men now will laugh at me.  Mir. 
Prithee be moderate.  Bel. 
And I'll beat all men. Come.  Mir. 
I love thee dearly.  Bel. 
I beat all that love, Love has undone me;  
Never tell me, I will not be a History.  Mir. 
Thou art not.  Bel. 
'Sfoot I will not; give me room,  
And let me see the proudest of ye jeer me,  
And I'll begin with you first.  Mir. 
Prithee Bellure;  
If I do not satisfy thee—  Bel. 
Well, look ye do:  
But now I think on't better, 'tis impossible;  
I must beat somebody, I am mauled myself,  
And I ought in Justice—  Mir. 
No, no, no, ye are cozened;  
But walk, and let me talk to thee.  Bel. 
Talk wisely,  
And see that no man laugh upon no occasion;  
For I shall think then 'tis at me.  Mir. 
I warrant thee.  Bel. 
Nor no more talk of this.  Mir. 
Dost think I am maddish?  Bel. 
I must needs fight yet; for I find it concerns me,  
A pox on't, I must fight.  Mir. 
i'faith thou shalt not. Exeunt.    


Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.  Enter De Guard, and Leverdure, alias, Lugier. de Ga. 
I Know ye are a Scholar, and can do wonders.  Lug. 
There's no great Scholarship belongs to this, Sir;  
What I am, I am; I pity your poor Sister,  
And heartily I hate these Travellers,  
These Gimcracks, made of Mops, and Motions:  
There's nothing in their houses here but hummings;  
A Bee has more brains. I grieve, and vex too  
The insolent licentious carriage  
Of this outfacing fellow, Mirabell,  
And I am mad to see him prick his plumes up.  de Ga. 
His wrongs you partly know.  Lug. 
Do not you stir, Sir,  
Since he has begun with wit, let wit revenge it;  
Keep your sword close, we'll cut his throat a new way.  
I am ashamed the Gentlewoman should suffer  
Such base lewd wrongs.  de Ga. 
I will be ruled, he shall live,  
And left to your revenge.  Lug. 
ay, ay, I'll fit him:  
He makes a common scorn of handsome women;  
Modesty, and good manners are his May-games:  
He takes up Maidenheads with a new Commission;  
The Church, warrant's out of date: follow my Counsel  
For I am zealous in the Cause.  de Gr. 
I will, Sir;  
And will be still directed: for the truth is  
My Sword will make my sister seem more monstrous:  
Besides there is no honour won on Reprobates.  Leug. 
You are i'th' right: The slight he has showed my Pupils  
Sets me afire too: go I'll prepare your Sister,  
And as I told ye.  de Gr. 
Yes all shallbe sit, Sir.  Leug. 
And seriously, and handsomely.  de Gr. 
I warrant ye.  Leug. 
A little council more.  de Gr. 
'Tis well.  Leug. 
Most stately.  
See that observed; and then.  de Gr. 
I have ye every way.  Leug. 
Away then and be ready.  de Gr. 
With all speed Sir. — Exit.  Enter Lelia, Rosaluce, Oriana. Leug. 
we'll learn to travel too, may be beyond him  
Good day, Fair beauties.  Lel. 
You have beautified us.  
We thank ye Sir, ye have set us off most gallantly  
With your grave precepts.  Ros. 
We expected Husbands  
Out of your Documents, and taught behaviours;  
Excellent Husbands, thought men would run stark mad on us  
Men of all Ages, and all States: we expected  
An Inundation of desires, and Offers,  
A Torrent of trim Suitor: all we did,  
Or said, or purposed to be Spells about us,  
Spells to provoke.  Lel. 
Ye have provoked us finely,  
We followed your directions, we did rarely,  
We were Stately, Coy, Demure, Careless, Light, Giddy,  
And played at all points: This you swore would Carry.  Ros. 
We made Love, and Contemned Love. Now seemed holy  
With such a reverent put-on Reservation  
Which could not miss according to your Principles,  
Now gave more hope again. Now close, Now public,  
Still up and down, we beat it like a Billow;  
And ever those Behaviours you read to us,  
Subtle, and new. But all this will not help us.  Lel. 
They help to hinder us of all Acquaintance,  
They have frighted off all Friends: what am I better  
For all my Learning, if I love a Dunce,  
A handsome dunce? to what use serves my Reading,  
You should have taught me what belongs to Horses,  
Dogs, dice, Hawks, banquets, masks, free and fair Meetings  
To have studied Gowns and Dressings.  Leug. 
Ye are not mad sure,  Ros. 
We shallbe if we follow your encouragements;  
I'll take mine own way now:  Lel. 
And I my Fortune.  
We may live Maids else till the Moon drop Millstones;  
I see your modest Women are taken for Monsters,  
A Dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.  Leug. 
Since ye take it so toth' heart, pray'ye give me leave yet  
And ye shall see how I'll convert this Heretic;  
Mark how this Mirabell.  Lel. 
Name him no more:  
For, though I long for a husband, I hate him,  
And would be married sooner to a Monkey,  
Or to a Jack of Straw, than such a Juggler.  Ros. 
I am of that mind too; he is too nimble,  
And plays at fast and lose too learnedly  
For a plain-meaning Woman; that's the truth on't.  
Here's one too, that we love well, would be angry;  
And reason why: No, no, we will not trouble ye  
Nor him, at this time: may he make you happy.  
We'll turn ourselves loose now, to our fair Fortunes,  
And the downright way.  Lel. 
The winning-way we'll follow,  
we'll bait, that men may bite fair, and not be frighted;  
Yet we'll not be carried so cheap neither: we'll have some sport,  
Some mad-morris or other for our money (Tutor.)  Leug. 
'Tis like enough: prosper your own Devices;  
Ye are old enough to Choose: But for this Gentlewoman  
So please her, give me leave.  Ori. 
I shall be glad Sir,  
To find a Friend, whose pity may direct me.  Leug. 
I'll do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;  
But then ye must be ruled.  Ori. 
In all, I vow to ye.  Ros. 
Do, do: he has a lucky hand sometimes, I'll assure ye:  
And hunts the recovery of a lost Lover deadly.  Leug. 
You must away straight.  Ori. 
Yes.  Leug. 
And I'll instruct ye:  
Here ye can know no more.  Ori. 
By your leave, sweet Ladies,  
And all our Fortunes, arrive at our own wishes.  Lel. 
Amen, Amen.  Leug. 
I must borrow your man.  Lel. 
Pray take him;  
He is within: to do her good, take any thing,  
Take us, and all.  Leug. 
No doubt ye may find Takers;  
And so we'll leave ye to your own disposes. Exit.  Lel. 
Now which way, Wench.  Ros. 
we'll go a brave way; fear not:  
A safe, and sure way too: and yet a by-way,  
I must confess I have a great mind to be married.  Lel. 
So have I too, a grudging of goodwill that way;  
And would as fain be dispatched. But this Monsieur Quicksilver.  Ros. 
No, no: we'll bar him, by, and Main: Let him trample;  
There is no safety in his Surquedry:  
An army-royal of Women, are too few for him,  
He keeps a Journal of his Gentleness,  
And will go near to print his fair Dispatches,  
And call it his Triumph over Time and Women:  
Let him pass out of memory: what think ye  
Of his two Companions?  Lel. 
Pinac methinks is reasonable;  
A little Modesty he has brought home with him,  
And might be taught in time some handsome duty.  Ros. 
They say he is a Wencher too.  Lel. 
I like him better:  
A free light Touch or two becomes a Gentleman,  
And sets him seemly off: so he exceed not,  
But keep his Compass, clear he may be looked at;  
I would not marry a man that must be taught,  
And conjured up with Kisses; the best Game  
Is played still by the best Gamesters.  Ros. 
Fie upon thee!  
What talk hast thou?  Lel. 
Are not we alone, and merry?  
Why should we be ashamed to speak what we think? thy Gentleman  
The tall fat-Fellow; he that came to see thee.  Ros. 
Is't not a goodly man?  Lel. 
A wondrous goodly!  
'Has weight enough I warrant thee: Mercy upon me;  
What a Serpent wilt thou seem under such a St George.  Ros. 
Thou art a Fool; give me a man brings Mettle.  
Brings substance with him; needs no Broths to Lare him:  
These little Fellows show like Fleas in boxes,  
Hop up and down, and keep a stir to vex us;  
Give me the puissant Pike, take you the small Shot.  Lel. 
Of a great thing I have not seen a Duller,  
Therefore methinks, sweet Sister-  Ros. 
Peace: he's modest:  
A bashfulness, which is a point of grace, Wench:  
But when these Fellows come to moulding, Sister,  
To heat, and handling: as I live, I like him; Enter Mirabell.  
And methinks I could form him.  Lel. 
Peace: the Fire-drake.  Mir. 
'Bless ye sweet Beauties: sweet incomparable Ladies:  
Sweet wits: sweet humours :'Bless you, Learned Lady,  
And you, most holy Nun; 'Bless your Devotions,  Lel. 
And 'bless your brains, Sir, your most pregnant brains, Sir,  
They are in Travail, may they be delivered  
Of a most hopeful Wild-Goose.  Ros. 
'Bless your manhood:  
They say ye are a Gentleman of Action,  
A fare accomplished man; and a rare Engineer,  
You have a trick to blow-up Maidenheads,  
A subtle trick, they say abroad.  Mir. 
I have Lady.  Ros. 
And often glory in their Ruins.  Mir. 
Yes forsooth;  
I have a speedy trick: please you to try it:  
My Engine will dispatch ye instantly.  Ros. 
I would I were a Woman, Sir, fit for ye,  
As there be such, no doubt, may Engine you too;  
May with a Countermine blow up your valour:  
But in good faith, Sir, we are both too honest;  
And the plague is, we cannot be persuaded:  
For, look ye: if we thought it were a glory  
To be the last of all your lovely Ladies.  Mir. 
Come, come; leave prating: this has spoiled your Market;  
This pride, and puffed-up heart, will make ye fast (Ladies)  
Fast, when ye are hungry too.  Ros. 
The more our pain, Sir.  Lel. 
The more our health, I hope too.  Mir. 
Your behaviours  
Have made men stand amazed; those men that loved ye;  
Men of fair States and parts; your strange conventions  
Into I know not what, nor how, nor wherefore;  
Your scorns of those that came to visit ye;  
Your studied Whim-whams; and your fine set Faces:  
What have these got ye? proud, and harsh opinions:  
A traveled-monsieur, was the strangest Creature,  
The wildest Monster to be wondered at:  
His Person made a public Scoff, his Knowledge,  
(As if he had been bred 'mongst Bears or bandogs)  
Shunned and avoided: his conversation snuffed at.  
What Harvest brings all this?  Ros. 
I pray ye proceed, Sir.  Mir. 
Now ye shall see in what esteem a Traveller,  
An under standing Gentleman, and a Monsieur  
Is to be held, and to your griefs confess it,  
Both to your griefs, and galls.  Lel. 
In what I pray ye, Sir?  
We would be glad to understand your Excellence  Mir. 
Go on, (sweet Ladies) it becomes ye rarely  
For me, I have blessed me from ye, scoff on, seriously,  
And note the Man ye mocked: you, (Lady Learning)  
Note the poor Traveller, that came to visit ye,  
That flat unfurnished Fellow: note him throughly,  
You may chance to see him anon.  Lel. 
'Tis very likely  Mir. 
And see him Courted, by a Travelled Lady,  
Held dear, and honoured by a virtuous virgin,  
May be a Beauty, not far short of yours, neither  
It may be, clearer.  Lel. 
Not unlikely  Mir. 
Younger:  
As killing eyes as yours: a wit as poignant  
May be, a State to that may top your Fortune  
inquire how she thinks of him, how she holds him;  
His good parts; in what precious price already;  
Being a stranger to him, how she courts him,  
A stranger to his Nation too: how she dotes on him:  
inquire of this; be sick to know: Curse, Lady,  
And keep your Chamber: cry, and curse, a sweet one,  
A thousand in yearly land; well bred; well friended:  
traveled, and highly followed for her fashions.  Lil. 
'Bless his good Fortune, Sir.  Mir. 
This scurvy fellow;  
I think they call his name Pinac, this servingman  
That brought ye Venison, as I take it, Madam;  
Note but this Scab; 'tis strange that this course creature,  
That has no more set off, but his jugglings,  
His travelled tricks.  Lil. 
Good, sir, I grieve not at him,  
Nor envy not his Fortune: yet I wonder,  
He's handsome; yet I see no such perfection  Mir. 
Would I had his Fortune: for 'tis a woman  
Of that sweet tempered nature, and that judgement,  
Besides her state, that care, clear understanding,  
And such a wife to bless him.  Ros. 
Pray ye whence is she?  Mir. 
Of England and a most accomplished Lady,  
So modest that men's eyes are frighted at her, Enter a Boy.  
And such a noble carriage. How now Sirrah?  Boy. 
Sir, the great English Lady.  Mir. 
What of her, sir?  Boy. 
Has newly left her Coach, and coming this way,  
Where you may see her plain: monsieur Pinac,  
The only man that leads her.  Enter Pinac, Mariana, and Attendants. Mir. 
He is much honoured;  
Would I had such a favour: now vex Ladies,  
Envy, and vex, and rail.  Ros. 
Ye are short of us, Sir.  Mir. 
'Bless your fair Fortune, sir.  Pi. 
I Nobly thank ye.  Mir. 
Is she married, friend?  Pi. 
No, no.  Mir. 
A goodly Lady;  
A sweet and delicate Aspect: mark, mark, and wonder.  
Hast thou any hope of her?  Pi. 
A little.  Mir. 
Follow close then:  
Lose not that hope.  Pi. 
To you, Sir.  Mir. 
Gentle Lady.  Ros. 
She is fair indeed.  Lil. 
I have seen a fairer, yet  
She is well.  Ros. 
Her clothes sit handsome too.  Lel. 
She dresses prettily.  Ros. 
And by my faith she is rich; she looks still sweeter.  
A well-bred woman, I warrant her.  Lel. 
Do you hear, Sir;  
May I crave this Gentlewoman's name?  Pi. 
Mariana, Lady.  Lel. 
I will not say I owe ye a quarrel Monsieur  
For making me your stale: a noble Gentleman  
Would have had more courtesy; at least, more faith,  
Then to turn of his mistress at first trial:  
You know not what respect I might have showed ye;  
I find ye have worth.  Pi. 
I cannot stay to answer ye;  
Ye see my charge: I am beholding to ye  
For all your merry tricks ye put upon me,  
Your bobs, and base accounts: I came to love ye,  
To woo ye, and to serve ye; I am much indebted to ye  
For dancing me off my legs; and then for walking me;  
For telling me strange tales I never heard of,  
More to abuse me; for mistaking me,  
When ye both know I was a Gentleman,  
And one deserved as rich a match as you are.  Lel. 
Be not so bitter, Sir.  Pi. 
You see this Lady:  
She is young enough, and fair enough to please me,  
A woman of a loving mind, a quit,  
And one that weighs the worth of him that loves her,  
I am content with this, and bless my Fortune,  
Your curious Wits, and Beauties.  Lel. 
Faith see me once more.  Pi. 
I dare not trouble ye.  Lel. 
May I speak to your Lady?  Pi. 
I pray ye content yourself: I know ye are bitter,  
And in your bitterness, ye may abuse her;  
Which if she comes to know, (for she understands ye not)  
It may breed such a quarrel to your kindred,  
And such an indiscretion fling on you too;  
For she is Nobly friended.  Lel. 
I could eat her.  Pi. 
Rest as ye are, a modest noble Gentlewoman,  
And afford your honest neighbours some of your prayers. Ex  Mir. 
What think you now?  Lel. 
Faith she's a pretty Whiting;  
She has got a pretty catch too.  Mir. 
You are angry;  
Monstrous angry now; grievously angry;  
And the pretty heart does swell now.  Lel. 
No in troth, sir.  Mir. 
And it will cry anon; a pox upon it:  
And it will curse itself: and eat no meat, Lady;  
And it will fight.  Lel. 
Indeed you are mistaken;  
It will be very merry.  Ros. 
Why, sir, do you think  
There are no more men living, nor no handsomer  
Than he, or you; By this light there be ten thousand  
Ten thousand thousand: comfort yourself, dear Monsieur,  
Faces, and Bodies, Wits, and all Abiliments  
There are so many we regard 'em not.  Enter Bellure, and two Gentlemen. Mir. 
That such a noble Lady, I could burst now.  
So far above such trifles.  Bel. 
You did laugh at me,  
And I know why ye laughed.  1. Gen. 
I pray ye be satisfied;  
If we did laugh, we had some private reason,  
And not at you.  2. Gen. 
Alas, we know you not, sir.  Bel. 
I'll make you know me; set your faces soberly;  
Stand this way, and look sad; I'll be no May-game;  
Sadder; demurer yet.  Ros. 
What's the matter?  
What ails this Gentleman?  Bel. 
go off now backward, that I may behold ye;  
And not a simper on you lives.  Lel. 
He's mad sure.  Bel. 
Do you observe me too?  Mir. 
I may look on ye.  Bel. 
Why do you grin? I know your mind.  Mir. 
You do not.  
You are strangely humorous: Is there no mirth, nor pleasure,  
But you must be the object?  Bel. 
Mark, and observe me;  
wherever I am named;  
The very word shall raise a general sadness,  
For the disgrace this scurvy woman did me;  
This proud pert thing; take heed ye laugh not at me;  
Provoke me not, take heed.  Ros. 
I would fain please ye;  
Do any thing to keep ye quiet.  Bel. 
Hear me,  
Till I receive a satisfaction  
Equal to the disgrace, and scorn ye gave me:  
Ye are a wretched woman; till thou wooest me,  
And I scorn thee as much, as, seriously,  
Gear, and abuse thee; ask what Gill thou art;  
Or any baser name; I will proclaim thee;  
I will so sing thy virtue; so bepaint thee,  Ros. 
Nay, good sir, be more modest.  Bel. 
Do you laugh again?  
Because ye are a woman ye are lawless,  
And out of compass of an honest anger.  Ros. 
Good sir, have a better belief of me.  Lil. 
Away dear sister. Exit.  Mir. 
Is not this better now, this seeming madness,  
Then falling out with your friends.  Bel. 
Have I not frighted her?  Mir. 
Into her right wits, I warrant thee: follow this humour,  
And thou shalt see how prosperously 'twill guide thee.  Bel. 
I am glad I have found a way to woo yet, I was afraid once  
I never should have made a civil Suitor.  
Well, I'll about it still. Exit.  Mir. 
Do, do, and prosper.  
What sport do I make with these fools? What pleasure  
Feeds me, and fats my sides at their poor innocence? Enter Leverduce daes Lugier, Mr. Illiard.  
Wooing and wiving, hang it: give me mirth,  
Witty and dainty mirth: I shall grow in love sure  
With mine own happy head. Who's this? To me, Sir?  
What youth is this?  Leu. 
Yes, Sir, I would speak with you,  
If your name be Monsieur Mirabel.  Mir. 
Ye have hit it:  
Your business, I beseech ye.  Leu. 
This it is, Sir.  
There is a Gentlewoman hath long time affected ye,  
And loved ye dearly.  Mir. 
Turn over, and end that story,  
'Tis long enough: I have no faith in women, Sir.  Leu. 
It seems so, Sir: I do not come to woo for her,  
Or sing her praises, though she well deserve 'em.  
I come to tell ye, ye have been cruel to her,  
Unkind and cruel, falser of faith, and careless,  
Taking more pleasure in abusing her,  
Wresting her honour to your wild disposes,  
Then noble in requiting her affection.  
Which, as ye are a man, I must desire ye  
(A Gentleman of rank) not to persist in,  
No more to load her fair name with your injuries.  Mir. 
Why, I beseech ye, Sir?  Leu. 
Good Sir, I'll tell ye.  
And I'll be short: I'll tell ye, because I love ye,  
Because I would have you shun the shame may follow,  
There is a noble man, new come to Town, Sir,  
A noble and a great man that affects her,  
A Countryman of mine, a brave Savoyan,  
Nephew to th'Duke, and so much honours her,  
That 'twill be dangerous to pursue your old way,  
To touch at any thing concerns her honour,  
Believe, most dangerous: her name is Oriana,  
And this great man will marry her: take heed, Sir;  
For howsoe'er her brother, a staid Gentleman,  
Lets things pass upon better hopes, this Lord, Sir,  
Is of that fiery, and that poignant metal,  
(Especially provoked on by affection)  
That 'twill be hard: but you are wise.  Mir. 
A Lord, sir?  Lev. 
Yes, and a noble Lord.  Mir. 
'Send her good fortune.  
This will not stir her Lord; a baroness,  
Say ye so; say ye so: by'r Lady, a brave title;  
Top, and top gallant now; 'save her great Ladyship.  
I was a poor servant of hers, I must confess, Sir,  
And in those days, I thought I might be jovy,  
And make a little bold to call into her:  
But Basto, now; I know my rules and distance;  
Yet, if she want an Usher; such an implement;  
One that is throughly paced; a clean made gentleman;  
Can hold a hanging up; with approbation  
Plant his Hat formally, and wait with patience  
I do beseech you, sir.  Lug. 
Sir, leave your scoffing;  
And as ye are a Gentleman, deal fairly:  
I have given ye a friend's council, so I'll leave ye.  Mir. 
But hark ye, hark ye, sir; is't possible  
I may believe what you say?  Lug. 
You may choose, sir.  Mir. 
No Baits? No Fishhooks, sir? No Gins? No Nooses?  
No Pitfalls to catch Puppies?  Lug. 
I tell ye certain;  
You may believe; if not, stand to the danger. Exit.  Mir. 
A Lord of Savoy says he? The Duke's Nephew?  
A man so mighty? By 'Lady a fair marriage;  
By my faith, a handsome Fortune: I must leave prating;  
For to confess the truth, I have abused her,  
For which I should be sorry; but that will seem scurvy;  
I must confess, she was ever since I knew her  
As modest, as she was fair: I am sure she loved me;  
Her means good; and her breeding excellent;  
And for my sake she has refused fair matches:  
I may play the fool finely. Stay who are these? Enter De-Gard, Oriana, and Attendants.  
'Tis she, I am sure; and that the lord it should seem,  
He carries a fair Port; is a handsome man too:  
I do begin to feel, I am a Coxcomb.  Or. 
Good my Lord, choose a nobler: for I know  
I am so far below your rank and Honour,  
That what ye can say this way, I must credit,  
But spoken to beget yourself sport: Alas, Sir,  
I am so far off, from deserving you,  
My Beauty so unfit for your Affection,  
That I am grown the scorn of common Railers,  
Of such injurious Things, that when they cannot  
Reach at my person, lie with my reputation:  
I am poor besides.  De-G. 
Ye are all wealth and goodness;  
And none but such as are the scum of men,  
The Ulcers of an honest State; Spite-weavers,  
That live on poison only, like swollen Spiders,  
Dare once profane such excellence, such sweetness.  Mir. 
This man speaks loud indeed.  De-G. 
Name but the men, Lady;  
Let me but know these poor, and base depravers;  
Lay but to my revenge their persons open,  
And you shall see how suddenly, how fully  
For your most Beauteous sake, how direfully  
I'll handle their despites. Is this thing one?  
Be what he will.  Mir. 
Sir.  De-G. 
Dare your malicious tongue, sir?  Mir. 
I know you not; nor what ye mean.  Or. 
Good my Lord.  De-G. 
If he, or any he.  Or. 
I beseech your Honour.  
This Gentleman's a stranger to my knowledge,  
And no doubt, sir, a worthy man.  De-G. 
Your mercy;  
But had ye been attaint of your Honour;  
A blaster of those beauties reign within ye;  
But we shall find a fitter time: dear Lady,  
As soon as I have freed ye from your Guardian,  
And done some honoured offices unto ye,  
I'll take ye with those faults the world flings on ye;  
And dearer than the whole world I'll esteem ye.  Mir. 
This is a thundering Lord; I am glad I scaped him:  
How lovingly the wench disclaimed my villainy?  
I am vexed now heartily that he shall have her;  
Not that I care to marry, or to lose her;  
But that this Bilbo-Lord shall reap that Maidenhead  
That was my due; that he shall rig and top her;  
I'd give a thousand Crowns now, he might miss her.  Enter a Servant. Ser. 
Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your council,  
You have good luck, Sir; I'll teach ye to strike lighter.  Mir. 
Come hither, honest Fellow; canst thou tell me  
Where this great Lord lies? This Savoy Lord? Thou metst him;  
He now went by thee certain.  Ser. 
Yes, he did, Sir;  
I know him; and I know you are fooled.  Mir. 
Come hither.  
Here's all this, give me truth.  Ser. 
Not for your money;  
(And yet that may do much) but I have been beaten:  
And by the worshipful Contrivers beaten; and I'll tell ye;  
This is no Lord, no Savoy Lord.  Mir. 
Go forward.  Ser. 
This is a Trick, and put upon ye grossly  
By one Lugier; the Lord is Monsieur De-Gard, Sir;  
An honest Gentleman, and a neighbour here;  
Their ends you understand better than I, sure.  Mir. 
Now I know him.  
Know him now plain.  Ser. 
I have discharged my Colours; so God by ye, sir. Exit.  Mir. 
What a purblind Puppy was I; now I remember him.  
All the whole cast on's face, though 'twere umbered,  
And masked with patches: what a dunder-whelp  
To let him domineer thus: how he strutted,  
And what a load of Lord he clapped upon him?  
Would I had him here again, I would so bounce him,  
I would so thank his Lordship for his lewd plot:  
Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird pots.  
And a pair of pin-buttocked breeches? Ha! 'Tis he again  
He comes, he comes, he comes; have at him. Enter De-Gard, Oriana, &c.  Sings. 
My Savoy Lord, why dost thou frown on me?  
And will that favour never sweeter be?  
Wilt thou I say, for ever play the fool?  
De-Gard, be wise, and Savoy go to School.  
My Lord De-Gard, I thank ye for your Antic,  
My Lady bright, that will be sometime Frantic;  
You worthy Train, that wait upon this Pair,  
'Send you more wit, and they a bouncing Baire;  
And so I take my humble leave of your honours. Exit.  De-G. 
We are discovered, there's no remedy;  
Lelia, Biancha's man upon my life,  
In stubbornness, because Lugier corrected him.  
(A shameless Slaves-plague on him for a Rascal.)  Or. 
I was in a perfect hope; the bane on't is now;  
He will make mirth on mirth, to persecute us.  De-G. 
We must be patient; I am vexed to the proof too.  
I'll try once more; then if I fail: here's one speaks.  Or. 
Let me be lost, and scorned first.  De-G. 
Well, we'll consider.  
Away, and let me shift; I shall be hooted else. Exeunt.    


ACTUS Quartus. Scaen. 1.  Enter Leugier, Lelia, Servants. Leug. 
FAint not; but do as I direct ye, trust me;  
Believe me too, for what I have told ye, (Lady)  
As true as you are Lelia, is Authentic;  
I know it; I have found it; 'tis a poor courage  
Flies off for one repulse; these Travellers  
Shall find before we have done, a homespun wit,  
A plain French understanding may cope with 'em;  
They have had the better yet, thank your sweet Squire, here;  
And let 'em brag: You would be revenged?  Lel. 
Yes surely.  Lug. 
And married too?  Lel. 
I think so.  Leug. 
Then be Counselled;  
You know how to proceed: I have other Irons  
Heating as well as yours: and I will strike  
Three blows with one Stone home, be ruled, and happy;  
And so I leave ye. Now is the time.  Lel. 
I am ready.  
If he do come to do me.  Ser. 
Will ye stand here,  
And let the people think, ye are God knows what, Mistress;  
Let Boys, and Prentices presume upon ye.  Lel. 
Prithee hold thy peace.  Ser. 
Stand at his door, that hates ye?  Lel. 
Prithee leave prating.  Ser. 
Pray ye go to th' Tavern. I'll give ye a Pint of wine there;  
If any of the Madcap Gentlemen should come by  
That take up women upon special warrant,  
You were in a wise case now.  Enter, Mirabell, Pinac, Mariana, Priest, Attendants. Lel. 
Give me the Garland,  
And wait you here.  Mir. 
She is here to seek thee, Sirrah.  
I told thee what would follow; she is mad, for thee;  
Show, and advance. So early stirring Lady,  
It shows a busy mind; a fancy troubled:  
A willow Garland too. Is't possible,  
'Tis pity so much Beauty should lie musty,  
But 'tis not to be helped now.  Lel. 
The more's my Misery  
Good fortune to ye (Lady) you deserve it:  
To me: too late Repentance; I have sought it:  
I do not envy, though I grieve a little,  
You are Mistress of that happiness, those Joys  
That might have been, had I been wise: but fortune.  Pi. 
She understands ye not, pray ye do not trouble her;  
And do not cross me like a Hare thus, 'tis as ominous.  Lel. 
I come not to upbraid, your Levity.  
Though ye made show of Love, and though I liked ye  
To claim an Interest; we are yet both Strangers,  
But what we might have been, had you persevered, Sir,  
To be an eyesore to your loving Lady;  
This garland shows, I give myself forsaken;  
(Yet She must pardon me, 'tis most unwillingly:)  
And all the power and interest I had in ye?  
As I persuade myself, somewhat ye Loved me;  
Thus patiently I render up, I offer  
To her that must enjoy ye: and so bless ye;  
Only, I heartily desire this Courtesy,  
And would not be denied: to wait upon ye  
This day, to see ye tide, then no more trouble ye.  Pi. 
It need not, Lady.  Lel. 
Good, Sir, grant me so much.  Pi. 
'Tis private, and we make no Invitation.  Lel. 
My presence, sir, shall not proclaim it public.  Pi. 
May be 'tis not in Town.  Lel. 
I have a Coach, sir.  
And a most ready will to do you service.  Mir. 
Strike now or never; make it sure: I tell thee,  
She will hang herself; if she have thee not.  Pi. 
Pray ye, sir,  
Entertain my noble mistress: only a word or two  
With this importunate woman, and I'll relieve ye.  
Now ye see what your flings are, and your fancies,  
Your States, and your wild stubbornness, now ye find  
What 'tis to gird and kick at men's fair services,  
To raise your pride to such a pitch, and glory  
That goodness shows like Gnats, scorned under ye,  
'Tis ugly, nought, a self will in a woman,  
Chained to an overweening thought, is Pestilent,  
Murders fair Fortune first; Then fair opinion?  
There stands a Pattern, a true patient Pattern,  
Humble, and sweet.  Lel. 
I can but grieve my ignorance.  
Repentance some say too, is the best Sacrifice;  
For sure, Sir, if my chance had been so happy,  
(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)  
As to have arrived at you; I will not prophesy,  
But certain, as I think, I should have pleased ye;  
Have made ye as much wonder at my courtesy,  
My love, and duty, as I have disheartened ye,  
Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;  
And being freeborn Maids, we take a liberty,  
And to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly.  Pi. 
Now ye talk reason.  Lel. 
But being yoked, and governed,  
Married, and those light vanities purged from us;  
How fair we grow, how gentle, and how tender  
We twine about those loves that shoot-up with us?  
A sullen woman fear, that talks not to ye;  
She has a sad and darkened soul, loves dully:  
A merry and a free wench, give her liberty;  
Believe her in the lightest form she appears to ye;  
Believe her excellent, though she despise ye;  
Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will show to ye;  
As Jewels rubbed from dust, or Gold new burnished:  
Such had I been, had you believed.  Pi. 
Is't possible.  Lel. 
And to your happiness, I dare assure ye  
If True love be accounted so; your pleasure,  
Your will, and your command had tied my Motions:  
But that hopes gone; I know you are young, and giddy,  
And till you have a Wife can govern with ye,  
You sail upon this world-Sea, light and empty;  
Your Bark in danger daily; 'tis not the name neither  
Of Wife can steer ye; but the noble nature,  
The diligence, the Care, the Love, the Patience,  
She makes the Pilot, and preserves the Husband,  
That knows, and reckons every Rib, he is built on;  
But this I tell ye, to my shame.  Pi. 
I admire ye,  
And now am sorry, that I aim beyond ye.  Mir. 
So, so, so: fair and softly. She is thine own (Boy)  
She comes now, without Lure.  Pi. 
But that it must needs  
Be reckoned to me as a wantonness,  
Or worse, a Madness, to forsake a Blessing,  
A Blessing of that hope.  Lel. 
I dare not urge ye;  
And yet dear, Sir.  Pi. 
'Tis most certain, I had rather,  
If 'twere in mine own Choice, for you are my Countrywoman,  
A Neighbour here borne by me, She a Stranger;  
And who knows how her Friends?  Lel. 
Do as you please, Sir,  
If ye be fast: not all the world: I love ye,  
'Tis most true: and clear, I would persuade ye;  
And I shall love ye still.  Pi. 
Go, get before me:  
So much ye have won upon me: do it presently:  
Here's a Priest ready: I'll have you.  Lel. 
not now, Sir,  
No, you shall pardon me: advance your Lady,  
I dare not hinder your most high preferment,  
'Tis honour enough for me, I have unmasked ye.  Pi. 
How's that.  Lel. 
I have caught ye, Sir; alas, I am no state's woman,  
Nor no great Traveller, yet I have found ye,  
I have found your Lady too: your beauteous Lady;  
I have found her Birth, and Breeding too: her discipline:  
Who brought her over, and who kept your Lady:  
And when he laid her by, what virtuous Nunnery  
Received her in: I have found all these: are ye blank now,  
Methinks such travelled wisdoms should not fool thus:  
Such excellent Indiscretions.  Mir. 
How could she know this?  Lel. 
'Tis true she is English borne: but most part French now,  
And so I hope you will find her, to your comfort,  
Alas, I am ignorant of what, She cost ye:  
The price of these hired Clothes I do not know Gentlemen;  
Those Jewels are the Brokers, how ye stand bound for'em.  Pi. 
Will you make this good?  Lel. 
Yes, yes, and to her face, Sir,  
That she is an English whore, a kind of fling dust  
One of your London Light o'loves: a right one,  
Came over in thin Pumps; and half a petticoat,  
One faith, and one Smock, with a broken Haberdasher;  
I know all this, without a Conjurer:  
Her name is jumping-joan, an ancient Sin-Weaver;  
She was first a Lady's Chambermaid, there slipped  
And broke her leg above the knee: departed  
And set up shop herself. Stood the fierce Conflicts  
Of many a furious Term; there lost her Colours,  
And last shipped over hither.  Mir. 
We are betrayed.  Lel. 
Do you come to fright me with this Mystery?  
To stir me with a stink none can endure, Sir?  
I pray ye proceed, the Wedding will become ye,  
Who gives the Lady? you? an excellent Father:  
A careful man, and one that knows a Beauty,  
'Send ye fair shipping, Sir, and so I'll leave ye;  
Be wise and manly, than I may chance to love ye. — Exit.  Mir. 
As I live I am ashamed, this wench has reached me,  
Monstrous ashamed, but there's no remedy,  
This skewed-eyed Carrion.  Pi. 
This I suspected ever,  
Come, come, uncase, we have no more use of ye;  
Your Clothes, must back again.  Maria. 
Sir, ye shall pardon me:  
'Tis not our English use to be degraded:  
If you will visit me and take your venture,  
You shall have pleasure for your properties;  
And so sweet heart.  Mir. 
Let her go, and the Devil go with her:  
We have never better luck with these preludiums:  
Come, be not daunted: think she is but a woman,  
And let her have the devil's wit, we'll reach her. — Exit.   

Scaen 2.  Enter Rosaluce, and Lugier. Ros. 
Ye have now redeemed my good opinion (Tutor)  
And ye stand fair again.  Lug 
I can but labour,  
And sweat in your Affairs: I am sure Bellure:  
Will be here instantly, and use his Anger  
His wonted harshness.  Ros. 
I hope he will not beat me.  Lug. 
No sure; he has more manners: be you ready.  Ros. 
Yes, yes, I am: and am resolved to fit him,  
With patience to outdo all he can offer;  
But how does Oriana?  Lug. 
Worse, and worse still:  
There is a sad house for her: she is now  
Poor Lady, utterly distracted.  Ros. 
Pity:  
Infinite pity: 'tis a handsome Lady,  
That Mirabel's a Beast, worse than a Monster.  
If this affliction work not.  Enter Lelea, Biancha. Lel. 
Are ye ready?  
Bellure is coming on, here, hard behind me,  
I have no leisure to relate my Fortune.  
Only I wish you may come off as handsomely,  
Upon the sign you know what. Exit.  Ros. 
Well, well, leave me. Enter Bellure.  Bel. 
How now?  Ros. 
Ye are welcome, sir.  Bel. 
'Tis well ye have manners:  
That Curtsy again, and hold your Countenance staidly;  
That looks too light; take heed: so, sit ye down now,  
And to confirm me that your gall is gone,  
Your bitterness dispersed, for so I'll have it;  
Look on me steadfastly; and whatsoe'er I say to ye,  
Move not, nor alter in your face, ye are gone then;  
For if you do express the least distaste,  
Or show an angry wrinkle; mark me, woman,  
We are now alone, I will so conjure thee:  
The third part of my Execution  
Cannot be spoke.  Ros. 
I am at your dispose, sir.  Bel. 
Now rise, and woo me a little, let me hear that faculty;  
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge ye.  
Begin now.  Ros. 
If so mean and poor a Beauty  
May ever hope the grace.  Bel. 
Ye Cog, ye flatter  
Like a lewd thing, ye lie: may hope that grace?  
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not,  
For if thou dost, and liest again, I'll swinge thee;  
Do not I know thee, for a pestilent woman?  
A proud at both ends? Be not angry;  
Nor stir not o' your life?  Ros 
I am counselled, sir.  Bel. 
Art thou not now, (confess, for I'll have the truth out)  
As much unworthy of a man of merit,  
Or any of ye all? Nay of mere man?  
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him;  
Nay of any dishonest thing, that bears that figure;  
As Devils are of mercy?  Ros. 
We are unworthy.  Bel. 
Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee;  
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?  
That we are troubled, vexed, or tortured with ye?  
Our mere, and special bounty?  Ros. 
Yes.  Bel. 
Our pity,  
That for your wickedness we swinge ye soundly;  
Your stubbornness and stout hearts, we belabour ye?  
Answer, to that?  Ros. 
I do confess your pity.  Bel. 
And dost not thou deserve in thine own person?  
(Thou Impudent, thou Pert; do not change countenance?)  Ros. 
I dare not, sir.  Bel. 
For if ye do.  Ros. 
I am settled.  Bel. 
Thou Wagtail, Peacock, Puppy; look on me:  
I am a Gentleman.  Ros. 
It seems no less, sir.  Bel. 
And darest thou in thy Surquedry?  Ros. 
I beseech ye.  
It was my weakness, sir; I did not view ye;  
I took not notice of your noble parts;  
Nor called your person, nor your proper fashion.  Bel. 
This is some amends yet.  Ros. 
I shall mend, sir, daily.  
And study to deserve.  Bel. 
Come a little nearer:  
Canst thou repent thy Villainy?  Ros. 
Most seriously.  Bel. 
And be ashamed?  Ros. 
I am ashamed.  Bel. 
Cry.  Ros. 
It will be hard to do, sir.  Bel. 
Cry now instantly;  
Cry monstrously, that all the Town may hear thee;  
Cry seriously; as if thou hadst lost thy Monkey;  
And as I like thy Tears. Enter Lilia and four women laughing.  Ros. 
Now.  Bel. 
How? How? do ye jeer me?  
Have ye broke your bounds again Dame?  Ros. 
Yes, and laugh at ye;  
And laugh most heartily.  Bel. 
What are these, Whirlwinds?  
Is Hell broke loose, and all the Furies fluttered?  
Am I greased once again?  Ros. 
Yes indeed are ye;  
And once again ye shall be, if ye quarrel:  
Do you come to vent your fury on a Virgin?  
Is this your manhood, sir?  1. Wo. 
Let him do his best:  
Let's see the utmost of his indignation:  
I long to see him angry: come, proceed, sir.  
Hang him, he dares not stir; a man of Timber.  2. Wo. 
Come hither to fright Maids, with thy Bul-faces?  
To threaten Gentlewomen? Thou a man? A Maypole.  
A great dry Pudding.  3. Wo. 
Come, come, do your worst, sir;  
Be angry if thou dar'st.  Bel. 
The Lord deliver me.  4. Wo. 
Do but look scurvily upon this Lady,  
Or give us one foul word. We are all mistaken;  
This is some mighty Dairy-Maid in man's clothes.  Lil. 
I am of that mind too.  Bel. 
What will they do to me?  Lil. 
And hired to come and abuse us; a man has manners;  
A Gentleman, Civility, and Breeding:  
Some tinker's Trull with a beard glued on.  1. Wo. 
Let's search him;  
And as we find him.  Bel. 
Let me but depart from ye,  
Sweet Christian women.  Lel. 
Hear the Thing speak, Neighbours.  Bel. 
'Tis but a small request: if ere I trouble ye,  
If ere I talk again of beating Women,  
Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;  
Of ever thinking of a handsome Lady  
But virtuously and well: of ever speaking  
But to her honour: This I'll promise ye,  
I will take Rhubarb; and purge Choler mainly,  
Abundantly I'll purge.  Lel. 
I'll send ye Broths, Sir.  Bel. 
I will be laughed at, and endure it patiently,  
I will do any thing.  Ros. 
I'll be your Bail then:  
When ye come next to woo, pray ye come not boisterously  
And furnished like a Bearward.  Bel. 
No in truth, forsooth.  Ros. 
I scented ye long since.  Bel. 
I was to blame, sure;  
I will appear a Gentleman.  Ros. 
'Tis the best for ye,  
For a true noble Gentleman's a brave thing;  
Upon that hope we quit ye: You fear seriously?  Bel. 
Yes truly do I; I confess I fear ye,  
And honour ye, and any thing.  Ros. 
Farewell then.  Wo. 
And when ye come to woo next bring more mercy. Exeunt.  Bel. 
A dairy-maid? A tinker's-trull: Heaven bless me:  
Sure if I had provoked 'em, they had quartered me. Enter two Gentlemen.  
I am a most ridiculous Ass, now I perceive it:  
A Coward, and a Knave too.  1. Gen. 
'Tis the mad Gentleman.  
Let's set our Faces right.  Bel. 
No, no, laugh at me;  
And laugh aloud.  2. Gen. 
We are better mannered, sir.  Bel. 
I do deserve it; call me Patch, and Puppy,  
And beat me if you please.  1. Gen. 
No indeed: We know ye.  Bel. 
'Death, do as I would have ye.  2. Gen. 
Ye are an Ass then;  
A Coxcomb, and a Calf.  Bel. 
I am a great Calf:  
Kick me a little now: Why, when? Sufficient:  
Now laugh aloud, and scorn me; so good bye;  
And ever when ye meet me laugh.  Gen. 
We will, sir.  Exeunt.  

SCAEN. 3.  Enter Nantolet, la-Castre, de-Gard, Lugier, Mirabell. Mir. 
Your Patience, Gentlemen; why do ye bait me?  Nan. 
Is't not a shame you are so stubborn-hearted,  
So stony and so dull to such a Lady,  
Of her Perfections, and her Misery?  Lug. 
Does she not love ye? does not her distraction  
For your sake only, her most pitied Lunacy  
Of all but you, show ye? does it not compel ye?  Mir. 
Soft and fair, Gentlemen, pray ye proceed temperately.  Lug. 
If ye have any feeling, any sense in ye,  
The least touch of a noble heart.  le-Cast. 
Let him alone;  
It is his glory that he can kill Beauty,  
Ye bear my Stamp, but not my Tenderness;  
Your wild unsavoury Courses set that in ye!  
For shame be sorry, though ye cannot Cure her,  
Show something of a Man, of a fair Nature.  Mir. 
Ye make me Mad.  De-G. 
Let me pronounce this to ye,  
You take a strange felicity in slighting  
And wronging Women; which my poor sister feels now,  
heaven's hand be gentle on her: Mark me, Sir,  
That very hour she dies; there's small hope otherwise,  
That minute you and I must grapple for it;  
Either your life or mine.  Mir. 
Be not so hot, Sir,  
I am not to be wrought on by these Policies;  
In truth I am not; Nor do I fear the Tricks,  
Or the high sounding Threats of a Savoyen:  
I glory not in Cruelty; ye wrong me;  
Nor grow up watered with the Tears of Women;  
This let me tell ye, howsoe'er I show to ye  
Wild, as you please to call it; or self-willed;  
When I see cause, I can both do, and suffer, Enter Rosaluce & Lelia.  
Freely, and feelingly, as a true Gentleman.  Ros. 
O pity, pity; thousand thousand pities!  Lel. 
Alas, poor soul! she will die; she is grown senseless;  
She will not know, nor speak now.  Ros. 
Die for Love,  
And Love of such a Youth? I would die for a Dog, first.  
He that kills me, I'll give him leave to eat me;  
I'll know men better ere I sigh for any of 'em.  Lel. 
Ye have done a worthy act, Sir; a most famous;  
Ye have killed a Maid the wrong way; ye are a conqueror.  Ros. 
A Conqueror? a Cobbler; hang him Sowter;  
Go hid thyself for shame; go lose thy Memory;  
Live not 'mongst Men; thou art a Beast, a Monster;  
A Blatant Beast.  Lel. 
If ye have yet any honesty,  
Or ever heard of any; take my Counsel;  
Off with your Garters; and seek out a Bough,  
A handsome Bough; (for I would have ye hang like a Gentleman;)  
And write some doleful matter to the world,  
A warning to hard-hearted men.  Mir. 
Out Kitlings:  
What caterwaul's here? what gibbing?  
Do you think my heart is softened with a black Santis;  
Show me some Reason. Enter Oriana on a bed.  Ros. 
Here then, here is a reason.  Nant. 
Now, if ye be a man, let this sight shake ye.  la-G. 
Alas poor Gentlewoman! do ye know me Lady?  Lug. 
How she looks up and stares.  Ori. 
I know ye very well:  
You are my Godfather; and that's the Monsieur.  De-G. 
And who am I?  Ori. 
You are Amadis de Gaul, Sir.  
Oh, oh, my heart! were you never in love, sweet Lady?  
And do you never dream of Flowers and Gardens;  
I dream of walking Fires: take heed, It comes now,  
Who's that? pray stand away, I have seen that face sure;  
How light my head is.  Ros. 
Take some rest.  Ori. 
I cannot.  
For I must be up tomorrow, to go to Church:  
And I must dress me, put my new Gown on,  
And be as fine to meet my Love: heigh ho!  
Will not you tell me where my Love lies buried?  Mir. 
He is not dead: beshrew my heart she stirs me.  Ori. 
He is dead to me.  Mir. 
Is't possible my Nature  
Should be so damnable, to let her suffer;  
Give me your hand.  Or. 
How soft you feel; how gentle?  
I'll tell ye your fortune, Friend.  Mir. 
How she stares on me?  Ori. 
You have a flattering face; but 'tis a fine one;  
I warrant you may have a hundred Sweethearts:  
Will ye pray for me? I shall die tomorrow;  
And will ye ring the Bells?  Mir. 
I am most unworthy;  
I do confess unhappy; do you know me?  Ori. 
I would I did.  Mir. 
Oh fair tears; how ye take me.  Ori. 
Do you weep too? you have not lost your Lover?  
You mock me: I'll go home and pray.  Mir. 
Pray ye pardon me:  
Or if it please ye to consider justly,  
Scorn me; for I deserve it: Scorn, and shame me:  
Sweet Oriana.  Lei. 
Let her alone; she trembles.  
Her fits will grow more strong, if ye provoke her;  Ca-Last. 
Certain she knows ye not, yet loves to see ye  
How she smiles now:  Bel. 
Where are ye? oh, why do not ye laugh: come laugh at me;  
Why a devil, art thou sad, and such a subject,  
Such a ridiculous subject, as I am  
Before thy face?  Mir. 
Prithee put off this Lightness,  
This is no time for mirth, nor place: I have used too much on't:  
I have undone myself and a sweet Lady,  
By being too Indulgent to my Foolery  
Which truly I repent: look here.  Bel. 
What ails she.  Mir. 
Alas she is mad.  Bel. 
Mad.  Mir. 
Yes, too sure for me too.  Bel. 
Dost thou wonder at that? by this good light, they are all so;  
They are cozening mad, they are brawling mad, they are proud mad.  
They are all, all mad: I came from a world of mad women,  
Mad as march Hairs: get'em in Chains, then deal with'em.  
There's one that's mad: she seems well, but she is dog mad:  
Is she dead, dost think?  Mir. 
Dead? heaven forbid.  Bael 
Heaven further it.  
For till they be key-cold dead, there's no trusting of'em  
whate'er they seem, or howsoe'er they carry it,  
Till they be chap-fallen, and their Tongues at peace,  
Nailed in their Coffins sure, I'll ne'er believe'em,  
Shall I talk with her.  Mir. 
No, dear friend, be quiet;  
And be at peace a while.  Bel. 
I'll walk aside,  
And come again anon: But take heed to her  
You say she is a woman?  Mir. 
Yes.  Bel. 
Take great heed:  
For if she do not Cozen thee, then hang me:  
Let her be mad, or what she will, she'll cheat thee — Exit  Mir. 
Away wild Fool: how vild this shows in him now?  
Now take my faith, before ye all I speak it,  
And with it, my repentant Love.  La-Cast. 
This seems well.  Mir. 
Were but this Lady here again, whose sorrows  
My very heart melts for; were she but perfect  
(For thus to marry her, would be two Miseries,)  
Before the rishest, and the noblest Beauty,  
France, or the world could show me; I would take her  
As she is now, my Tears, and prayers shall wed her.  de-Ga. 
This makes some small amends.  Ros. 
She beckons to ye.  
To us too, to go off.  Nant. 
Let's draw aside all.  Ori. 
Oh my best friend: I would feign.  Mir. 
What? she speaks well,  
And with another voice.  Ori. 
But I am fearful,  
And shame a little, stops my tongue.  Mir. 
Speak boldly.  Ori. 
Tell ye, I am well, I am perfect well. pray ye mock not;  
And that I did this to provoke your Nature,  
Out of my infinite, and restless Love,  
To win your pity: pardon me.  Mir. 
Go forward;  
Who set ye on?  Ori. 
None, as I live, no Creature.  
Not any knew, or ever dreamed, what I meant:  
Will ye be mine?  Mir. 
'Tis true, I pity ye;  
But when I marry ye, ye must be wiser;  
Nothing but Tricks? devices?  Ori. 
Will ye shame me?  Mir. 
Yes, marry will I: Come near, Come near, a Miracle,  
The Woman's well: she was only mad for Marriage,  
Stark mad to be stoned to death; give her good Council,  
Will this world never mend? are ye caught, Damsel?  Enter Bellure, la. Castre, Lugier, Nantolet, de-Gard, Rosaluce, Bianth. Bel. 
How goes it now?  Mir. 
Thou art a kind of Prophet,  
The woman's well again; and would have gulled me,  
Well, excellent well: and not a Taint upon her.  Bel. 
Did not I tell ye? Let'em be what can be;  
Saints, Devils, any thing, they will abuse us;  
Thou wert an Ass to believe her so long: a Coxcomb;  
Give'em a minute, they'll abuse whole Millions.  Mir. 
And am not I a rare Physician, Gentlemen?  
That can cure desperate mad Minds?  de-Ga. 
Be not insolent.  Mir. 
Well, go thy ways: from this hour, I disclaim thee,  
Unless thou hast a Trick above this: then I'll love thee.  
Ye owe me for your Cure; pray have a Care of her,  
For fear she fall into Relapse; Come Bellure  
We'll set up Bills, to Cure diseased virgins.  Bel. 
Shall we be merry?  Mir. 
Yes.  Bel. 
But I'll no more projects;  
If we could make 'em mad, it were some Mastery. Exeunt.  Lil. 
I am glad she is well again.  Ros. 
So am I, certain  
Be not ashamed.  Ori. 
I shall never see a man more.  de-G. 
Come ye are a fool: had ye but told me this Trick,  
He should not have gloried thus.  Lug. 
He shall not long neither.  la-Cast. 
Be ruled, and be at peace: ye have my Consent,  
And what power I can work with.  Nant. 
Come, leave blushing;  
We are your Friends; an honest way compelled ye;  
Heaven will not see so true a love unrecompensed;  
Come in, and slight him too.  Lug. 
The next shall hit him. Exeunt.    


ACTUS Quintus. Scaen. 1.  Enter De-Gard, and Lugier. De-G. 
'TWill be discovered.  Lug. 
That's the worst can happen:  
If there be any way, to reach, and work upon him;  
Upon his nature suddenly, and catch him: That he loves,  
Though he dissemble it, and would show contrary,  
And will at length relent: I'll lay my Fortune,  
Nay more, my life.  De G. 
Is she won?  Lug. 
Yes, and ready,  
And my designments set.  De-G. 
They are now for Travel,  
All for that Game again: they have forgot wooing.  Lug. 
Let 'em; we'll travel with 'em.  De-G. 
Where's his Father?  Lug. 
Within; he knows my mind too, and allows it;  
Pities your sister's Fortune most sincerely;  
And has appointed, for our more assistance,  
Some of his secret Friends.  De-G. 
'Speed the plough.  Lug. 
Well said;  
And be you serious too.  De-G. 
I shall be diligent.  Lug. 
Let's break the Ice for one, the rest will drink too  
(Believe me, sir) of the same Cup; my young Gentlewomen  
Wait but who sets the Game afoot; though they seem 'stubborn,  
Reserved, and proud now, yet I know their hearts,  
Their pulses, how they beat, and for what cause, Sir;  
And how they long to venture their Abilities  
In a true Quarrel; Husbands they must, and will have,  
Or Nunneries, and thin Collations  
To cool their bloods; Let's all about our business,  
And if this fail, let Nature work.  De-G. 
Ye have armed me. Exeunt.   

Scaen. 2.  Enter Mirabel, Nantolet, La castre. La Cast. 
Will ye be wilful then?  Mir. 
Pray, sir, your pardon,  
For I must Travel: lie lazy here;  
Bound to a Wife; Chained to her subtleties,  
Her humours, and her wills, which are mere Fetters;  
To have her today pleased, tomorrow peevish,  
The third day mad, the fourth rebellious;  
You see, before they are married, what Moriscoes,  
What Masques, and Mummeries they put upon us,  
To be tied here, and suffer their Lavaltoes?  Nan. 
'Tis your own seeking.  Mir. 
Yes, to get my freedom;  
Were they as I could wish 'em.  la-Cast. 
fool's, and Meacocks,  
To endure what you think fit to put upon 'em:  
Come, change your mind.  Mir. 
Not before I have changed air (Father)  
When I know women worthy of my company,  
I will return again and wait upon 'em;  
Till then (dear Sir) I'll amble all the world over,  
And run all hazards, misery, and poverty, Enter Pinac & Bellure.  
So I escape the dangerous Bay of Matrimony.  Pi. 
Are ye resolved?  Mir. 
Yes certain; I will out again.  Pi. 
We are for ye, sir; we are your servants once more;  
Once more we'll seek our fortune in strange Countries;  
Ours is too scornful for us.  Bel. 
Is there ne'er a Land  
That ye have read, or head of, (for I care not how far it be,  
Nor under what Pestiferous Star it lies)  
A happy Kingdom, where there are no Women?  
Nor have been ever? Nor no mention  
Of any such lewd Things, with lewder qualities?  
For thither would I Travel; where 'tis Felony  
To confess he had a Mother: a Mistress, Treason?  la-Cast. 
Are you for Travel too?  Bel. 
For any thing;  
For living in the Moon, and stopping hedges,  
E'er I stay here to be abused, and baffled.  Nant. 
Why did ye not break your minds to me? They are my daughters;  
And sure I think I should have that command over 'em?  
To see 'em well bestowed: I know ye are Gentlemen,  
Men of fair Parts and States; I know your Parents;  
And had ye told me of your fair Affections:  
Make but one Trial more; and let me second ye.  Bel. 
No I'll make Hobnails first, and mend old Kettles:  
Can ye lend me an Armour of high proof, to appear in,  
And two or three field pieces to defend me?  
The king's Guard are mere pygmies.  Nant. 
They will not eat ye.  Bel. 
Yes, and you too, and twenty fatter Monsieurs,  
If their high stomachs hold: They came with Chopping-knives,  
To cut me into Rands, and sirloins, and so powder me.  
Come, shall we go?  Nant. 
You cannot be so discourteous  
(If ye intend to go) as not to visit 'em,  
And take your leaves.  Mir. 
That we dare do, and civilly,  
And thank 'em too.  Pi. 
Yes, sir, we know that honesty.  Bel. 
I'll come i'th' Rear, forty foot off, I'll assure ye,  
With a good Gun in my hand; I'll no more Amazous,  
I mean, no more of their frights; I'll make my three legs,  
Kiss my hand twice; and if I smell no danger;  
If the interview be clear, may be I'll speak to her;  
I'll wear a privy coat too; and behind me,  
To make those parts secure, a Bandog.  la-Cast. 
You are a merry Gentleman.  Bel. 
A wary Gentleman; I do assure ye,  
I Have been warned, and must be armed.  la-Cast. 
Well, Son,  
These are your hasty thoughts, when I see you are bent to it,  
Then I'll believe, and join with ye; So we'll leave ye:  
There's a Trick will make ye stay.  Nant. 
I hope so. Exeunt.  Mir. 
We have won immortal Fame now, if we leave 'em.  Pi. 
You have, but we have lost.  Mir. 
Pinac, Thou art cozened;  
I know they Love ye; and to gain ye handsomely,  
Not to be thought to yield, they would give millions;  
Their Father's willingness, that must needs show ye.  Pi. 
If I thought so.  Mir. 
Ye shall be hanged, ye Recreant,  
Would ye turn Renegado no?  Bel. 
No let's away, Boys,  
Out of the Air, and tumult of their Villainies;  
Though I were married to that Grasshopper,  
And had her fast by th' legs I should think she would cozen me.  Fac. 
Monsieur Mirabel, I take it? Enter a young Factor.  Mir. 
You're i'th' right, sir.  Fac. 
I am come to seek ye, sir; I have been at your Fathers,  
And understanding you were here.  Mir. 
Ye are welcome:  
May I crave your name?  Fac. 
Fossae, Sir, and your servant;  
That you may know me better; I am Factor  
To your old Merchant, Leverdure.  Mir. 
How does he?  Fac. 
Well, sir, I hope: he is now at Orleans,  
About some business.  Mir. 
You are once more welcome.  
Your Master's a right honest man; and one  
I am much beholding too, and must very shortly  
Trouble his love again.  Fac. 
You may be bold, sir.  Mir. 
Your business if you please now?  Fac. 
This it is, sir.  
I know ye well remember in your Travel  
A Genoa Merchant.  Mir. 
I remember many.  Fac. 
But this man, sir, particularly; your own benefit  
Must needs imprint him in ye: one Alberto;  
A Gentleman you saved from being Murdered  
A little from Bologna,  
I was then myself in italy, and supplied ye,  
Though happily, you have forgot me now.  Mir. 
No, I remember ye,  
And that Alberto too: a noble Gentleman:  
More to remember, were to thank myself, Sir.  
What of that Gentleman?  Fac. 
He is dead:  Mir. 
I am sorry.  Fac. 
But on his death bed, leaving to his Sister.  
All that he had beside some Certain Jewels,  
Which with a Ceremony, he bequeathed to you,  
In grateful memory: he commanded strictly  
His Sister, as she loved him and his peace,  
To see those Jewels safe, and true delivered;  
And with them, his last Love. She, as tender  
To observe this will, not trusting friend, nor Servant,  
With such a weight, is come herself to Paris  
And at my Master's House.  Mir. 
You tell me a wonder.  Fac. 
I tell ye a truth, Sir: She is young, and handsome,  
And well attended: of much State, and Riches;  
So loving, and obedient to her Brother;  
That on my Conscience, if he had given her also,  
She would most willingly have made her tender.  Mir. 
May not I see her?  Fac. 
She desires it heartily.  Mir. 
And presently?  Fac. 
She is now about some Business,  
Passing Accounts of some few debts here owing,  
And buying Jewels of a Merchant,  Mir. 
Is she wealthy.  Fac. 
I would ye had her, Sir, at all adventure.  
Her Brother had, a main State.  Mir. 
And fair too?  Fac. 
The prime of all those parts of italy,  
For Beauty, and for Courtesy.  Mir. 
I must needs see her.  Fac. 
'Tis all her Business, Sir. Ye may now see her,  
But tomorrow will be fitter for your visitation;  
For she is not yet prepared.  Mir. 
Only, her sight, Sir.  
And when you shall think fit for further visit.  Fac. 
Sir, ye may see her; and I'll wait your Coming.  Mir. 
And I'll be with ye instantly: I know the house,  
Mean time, my love, and thanks, Sir.  Fac. 
Your poor Servant — Exit.  Pi. 
Thou hast the strangest Luck: What was that Alberto?  Mir. 
An honest noble Merchant, 'twas my chance  
To rescue from some Rogues had almost slain him;  
And he in kindness to remember this.  Bel. 
Now we shall have you:  
For all your protestations, and your forwardness,  
Find out strange Fortunes in this lady's eyes,  
And new entirements to put off your journey;  
And who shall have honour then?  Mir. 
No, no, never fear it:  
I must needs see her, to receive my Legacy.  Bel. 
If it be tide up in her smock, Heaven help thee:  
May not we see too?  Mir. 
Yes, afore we go:  
I must be known myself e'er I be able  
To make thou welcome: wouldst thou see more women?  
I thought you had been out of love with all:  Bel. 
I may be,  
I find that with the least encouragement:  
Yet I desire to see whether all Countries  
Are naturally possessed with the same spirits;  
For if they be, I'll take a Monastery,  
And never Travel; for I had rather be a Friar,  
And live mewed up, then be a fool, and flouted:  Mir. 
Well, well, I'll meet ye anon; then tell you more, Boys;  
howe'er, stand prepared, pressed for our journey;  
For certain, we shall go, I think, when I have seen her.  
And viewed her well.  Pi. 
Go, go, and we'll wait for ye;  
Your fortune directs ours.  Bel. 
You shall find us i'th' Tavern,  
Lamenting in Sack and Sugar for our losses;  
If she be right Italian, and want servants,  
You may prefer the properest man.  
How I could worry a woman now?  Pi: 
Come, come, leave prating;  
Ye may have enough to do, without this boasting Exeunt.   

Scaen. 3.  Enter Lugier, de-Gard, Rosalu. and Lillia. Lug. 
This is the last adventure.  de-G. 
And the happiest,  
As we hope too.  Ros. 
We should be glad to find it.  Lil. 
Who shall conduct us thither?  Lug. 
Your man is ready.  
For I must not be seen; no, nor this Gentleman;  
That may beget suspicion: all the rest  
Are people of no doubt; I would have ye, Ladies,  
Keep your old liberties, and as we instruct ye:  
Come, look not pale; you shall not lose your wishes;  
Nor beg 'em neither: but be yourselves, and happy.  Ros. 
I tell ye true, I cannot hold off longer,  
Nor give no more hard language.  de-G. 
You shall not need.  Ros. 
I love the Gentleman, and must now show it;  
Shall I beat a proper man out of heart?  Lug. 
There's none advises ye.  Lil. 
'Faith I repent me too.  Lug. 
Repent, and spoil all.  
Tell what ye know, ye had best.  Lil. 
I'll tell what I think;  
For if he ask me now, if I can love him,  
I'll tell him yes, I can: The man's a kind man;  
And out of his true honesty affect me;  
Although he played the fool, which I requited;  
Must I still hold him at the stave's end?  Lug. 
You are two strange woman.  Ros. 
We may be, if we fool still.  Lug. 
Dare ye believe me?  
Follow but this advice I have set you in now,  
And if ye lose: would ye yield now so basely?  
Give up without your honours saved?  de-G. 
Fie, Ladies.  
Preserve your freedom still.  Lil. 
Well, well, for this time.  Lug. 
And carry that full state.  Ros. 
That's as the wind stands:  
If it begin to chop about, and scant us;  
Hang me, but I know what I'll do: come direct us,  
I make no doubt, we shall do handsomely:  de-G. 
Some part o'th' way, we'll wait upon ye, Ladies;  
The rest your man supplies:  Lug. 
Do well, I'll honour ye. Exeunt.   

SCAEN. 4.  Enter Factor and Mirabel, Oriana and two Merchants. Fac. 
Look ye, Sir, there she is, you see how busy;  
Methinks you are infinitely bound to her, for her journey.  Mir. 
How gloriously she shows? She is a tall woman.  Factor 
Of a fair Size, sir. My Master not being at home,  
I have been so out of my wits, to get her company:  
I mean, sir, of her own fair Sex, and fashion.  Mir. 
afar off, she is most fair too.  Fac. 
Near, most Excellent.  
At length, I have entreated two fair Ladies,  
And happily you know 'em: the young daughters  
Of Monsieur Nantolet.  Mir. 
I know 'em well, sir.  
What are those? Jewels?  Fac. 
All.  Mir. 
They make a rich show?  Factor 
There is a matter of ten thousand pounds too  
Was owing here: you see those Merchants with her;  
They have brought it in now.  Mir. 
How handsomely her shape shows?  Fac 
Those are still neat: your Italians are most curious:  
Now she looks this way.  Mir. 
She has a goodly presence.  
How full of courtesy? Well, sir, I'll leave ye.  
And if I may be bold to bring a friend or two;  
Good noble Gentlemen.  Fac. 
No doubt, ye may, sir.  
For you have most command.  Mir. 
I have seen a wonder. Exit.  Or. 
Is he gone?  Fac. 
Yes.  Or. 
How?  Fac. 
Taken to the utmost.  
A wonder dwells about him.  Or. 
He did not guess at me?  Fac. 
No, be secure; ye show another woman.  
He is gone to fetch his friends.  Or. 
Where are the Gentlewomen?  Fac. 
Here, here, now they are come, Enter Rosaluce, Lillia, Servant.  
Sit still, and let them see ye.  Ros. 
Pray ye, where's my friend, Sir?  Fac. 
She is within, Ladies, but here's another Gentlewoman;  
A stranger to this Town: so please you visit her,  
'Twill be well taken.  Lil. 
Where is she?  Fac. 
There, Above; Ladies.  Ser. 
'Bless me: what Thing is this? two Pinnacles,  
Upon her pate! Is't not a glode to catch Woodcocks?  Ros. 
Peace, ye rude, knave.  Ser. 
What a bouncing Bum she has too?  
There's Sail enough for a carack.  Ros. 
What is this Lady?  
For as I live, she's a goodly woman.  Fac. 
Guess, guess.  Lil. 
I have not seen a nobler Presence.  Ser. 
'Tis a lusty wench: now could I spend my fortypence,  
With all my heart, to have but one fling at her;  
To give her but a washing blow.  Lil. 
Ye Rascal.  Ser. 
I that's all a man has, for's goodwill: 'twill be long enough,  
Before ye cry come anthony, and kiss me.  Lil. 
I'll have ye whipped.  Ros. 
Has my friend seen this Lady?  Fac. 
Yes, yes, and is well known to her.  Ros. 
I much admire her Presence.  Lil. 
So do I too:  
For I protest, she is the handsomest,  
The rarest, and the newest to mine eye  
That ever, I saw yet.  Ros. 
I long to know her;  
My friend shall do that kindness.  Ori. 
So she shall Ladies.  
Come, pray ye come up.  Ros. 
O, me,  Lil. 
Hang me if I knew her:  
Were I a man myself, I should now love ye;  
Nay, I should dote.  Ros. 
I dare not, trust mine eyes;  
For as I live ye are the strangest altered  
I must come up to know the truth.  Ser. 
So must I, Lady;  
For I am a kind of unbeliever too.  Lil. 
Get ye gone, Sirrah;  
And what ye have seen, be secret in: you are paid else;  
No more of your long tongue.  Fac. 
Will ye go in Ladies,  
And talk with her. These venturers will come straight:  
Away with this fellow.  Lil. 
There, Sirrah, go, disport ye.  Ser. 
I would the Trunk-hosed woman, would go with me. Exit.   

SCAEN. 5.  Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Bellure. Pi. 
Is she so glorious handsome?  Mir. 
You would wonder:  
Our Women look like Gipsies, like Gills to her:  
Their Clothes and fashions beggarly, and Bankrupt:  
Base, old, and scurvy.  Bel. 
How looks her face?  Mir. 
Most heavenly:  
And the becoming-motion of her Body  
So sets her off.  Bel. 
Why then we shall stay.  Mir. 
Pardon me:  
That's more than I know: if she be that Woman,  
She appears to be.  Bel. 
As 'tis impossible.  Mir. 
I shall then tell ye more.  Pi. 
Did ye speak to her?  Mir. 
No, no, I only saw her: She was busy  
Now I go for that end: And mark her (Gentlemen)  
If she appear, not to ye, one of the sweetest,  
The handsomest: the fairest, in behaviour,  
We shall meet the two wenches there too, they come to visit her,  
To wonder, as we do.  Pi. 
Then we shall meet'em.  Bel. 
I had rather meet two Bears.  Mir. 
There you may take your leaves, dispatch that business,  
And as ye find their humours.  Pi 
Is your Love there too?  Mir. 
No certain, she has no great heart to set out again.  
This is the house, I'll usher ye?  Bel. 
I'll bless me,  
And take a good heart if I can:  Mir. 
Come, nobly Exeunt.   

Scaen. 6.  Enter Factor, Rosaluce, Lillia, Oriana. Fac. 
They are come in: Sit you two off, as Strangers,  
There Lady: where's the Boy? be ready, Sirrah  
And clear your Pipes, the Music now: they enter. Music. then Enter Mirabell, Pinac and Bellure.  Pi. 
What a State she keeps? how far off they sit, from her?  
How rich she is, I marry, this shows bravely.  Bel. 
She is a lusty wench: and may allure a good man,  
But if she have a Tongue, I'll not give two pence for her:  
There fits my Fury: how I shake to see her.  Fac. 
Madam this is the Gentleman.  Mir, 
How sweet she kisses?  
She has a Spring dwells on her lips: a paradise  
This is the Legacy.  

Song.  
From the honoured dead I bring  
Thus his love and last offering.  
From a faith &c.  
Take it nobly, 'tis your due,  
From a friendship ever true.   Ori. 
Most noble, Sir.  
This from my now dead Brother, as his love,  
And grateful memory of your great benefit:  
From me my thanks, my wishes, and my Service,  
Till I am more acquainted I am silent.  
Only I dare say this, you are truly noble.  Mir. 
What should I think?  Pi 
Think ye have a handsome fortune,  
Would I had such another.  Ros. 
Ye are well met Gentlemen,  
We hear ye are for Travel?  Pi 
Ye hear true, Lady,  
And come to take our Leaves.  Lil. 
we'll along with ye,  
We see you are grown so witty by your Journey,  
We cannot choose but step out too: This Lady,  
We mean to wait upon as far as Italy.  Bel. 
I'll travel into Wales, amongst the Mountains;  
I hope they cannot find me.  Ros. 
If you go further;  
So good, and free society we hold ye,  
We'll jog along too.  Pi. 
Are ye so valiant Lady?  Lil. 
And we'll be merry, Sir, and laugh.  Pi. 
It may be  
We'll go by Sea.  Lil. 
Why 'tis the the only voyage;  
I love a Sea-voyage, and a blustering Tempest;  
And let all split.  Pi. 
This is a dainty Damosel:  
I think 'twill tame ye: can ye ride post?  Lil. 
'O excellently: I am never weary that way:  
A hundred mile a day is nothing with me.  Bel. 
I'll travel under ground: do you hear (sweet Lady?)  
I find it will be dangerous for a woman.  Ros. 
No danger, sir, I warrant; I love to be under.  Bel. 
I see she will abuse me all the world over:  
But say we pass through Germany, and drink hard?  Ros. 
We'll learn to drink and swagger too.  Bel. 
She'll beat me.  
Lady, I'll live at home.  Ros. 
And I'll live with thee;  
And We'll keep house together.  Bel. 
I'll keep hounds first;  
And those I have tied heartily.  Pi. 
I go for Turkey,  
And so it may be up into Persia.  Lil. 
We cannot know too much, I'll travel with ye.  Pi. 
And you'll abuse me?  Lil. 
Like enough.  Pi. 
'Tis dainty.  Bel. 
I will live in a bawdy-house.  Ros. 
I dare come to ye.  Bel. 
Say, I am disposed to hang myself?  Ros. 
There I'll leave ye:  Bel. 
I am glad I know how to avoid ye.  Mir. 
May I speak yet?  Fac. 
She beckons to ye.  Mir. 
Lady, I could wish, I knew to recompense,  
Even with the service of my life, those pains,  
And those high favours you have thrown upon me;  
Till I be more desertful in your eye;  
And till my duty shall make known I honour ye:  
Noblest of Women, do me but this favour,  
To accept this back again, as a poor testimony.  Or. 
I must have you too with 'em; else the Will,  
That says they must rest with ye, is infringed, sir,  
Which pardon me, I dare not do.  Mir. 
Take me then;  
And take me with the truest love.  Or. 
'Tis certain,  
My Brother loved ye dearly, and I ought  
As dearly to preserve that love. But, Sir;  
Though I were willing; these are but your Ceremonies.  Mir, 
As I have life, I speak my soul.  Or. 
I like ye.  
But how you can like me, without I have Testimony,  
A Stranger to ye.  Mir. 
I'll marry ye immediately.  
A fair State, I dare promise ye.  Bel. 
Yet she'll cozen thee.  Or. 
Would some fair Gentlemen durst promise for ye.  Mir. 
By all that's good Enter la. Gastre Nauntoler, Lugier, & de-Gard.  All. 
And we'll make up the rest, Lady.  Or. 
Then Oriana takes ye; nay, she has caught ye;  
If ye start now let all the World cry shame on ye:  
I have out traveled ye.  Bel. 
did not I say she would cheat thee?  Mir. 
I thank ye, I am pleased, ye have deceived me;  
And willingly I swallow it, and joy in't;  
And yet perhaps I know ye: whose plot was this?  Lug. 
He is not ashamed that cast it: he that executed  
Followed your Father's will.  Mir. 
What a world's this, nothing but craft, and cozenage?  Or. 
Who begun, sir.  Mir. 
Well; I do take thee upon mere Compassion;  
And I do think, I shall love thee. As a Testimony,  
I'll burn my book, and turn a new leaf over.  
But these fine clothes you shall wear still.  Or. 
I obey you, sir, in all.  Nant. 
And how! How, daughters! What say you to these Gentlemen?  
What say ye, Gentlemen, to the Girls?  Pi. 
By my troth— if she can love me.  Lil. 
— How long?  Pi. 
Nay, if once ye love.  Lil. 
Then take me,  
And take your chance.  Pi. 
Most willingly, ye are mine, Lady:  
And if I use ye not, that ye may love me.  Lil. 
A Match y' faith.  Pi. 
Why now ye travel with me.  Ros. 
How that thing stands?  Bel. 
It will, if ye urge it.  
'Bless your five wits.  Ros. 
Nay, prithee stay, I'll have thee.  Bel. 
You must ask me leave first.  Ros. 
Wilt thou use me kindly;  
And beat me but once a week?  Bel. 
If ye deserve no more.  Ros. 
And wilt thou get me with child?  Bel. 
Dost thou ask me seriously?  Ros. 
Yes indeed do I.  Bel. 
Yes, I will get thee with child: Come presently,  
And 't be but in revenge, I'll do thee that courtesy.  
Well, if thou wilt fear God, and me; have at thee.  Ros. 
I'll love ye, and I'll honour ye:  Bel. 
I am pleased then.  Mir. 
This Wild-Goose-Chase is done, we have won o' both sides.  
Brother, your love: and now to Church of all hands;  
Let's lose no time.  Pi. 
Our Travelling, lay by.  Bel. 
No more for Italy; for the Low-Countries.  Exeunt.   
FINIS.