CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET. A COMEDY.  
The Scene LONDON, in the year 1658.  
Written by ABRAHAM COWLEY.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman at the Sign of the Anchor in the Lower walk in the New-Exchange. Anno Dom. 1663.   

PREFACE.  
A Comedy, called the Guardian, and made by me when I was very Young, was Acted formerly at Camebridge, and several times after privately during the troubles, as I am told, with good approbation, as it has been lately too at Dublin There being many things in it which I disliked, and finding myself for some days idle, and alone in the Country, I fell upon the changing of it almost wholly, as now it is, and as it was played since at his Royal Highness's Theatre under this New name. It met at the first representation with no favourable reception, and I think there was something of Faction against it, by the early appearance of some men's disapprobation before they had seen enough of it to build their dislike upon their judgement. Afterwards it got some ground, and found Friends as well as Adversaries. In which condition I should willingly let it die, if the main imputations under which it suffered, had been shot only against my Wit or Art in these matters, and not directed against the tenderest parts of human reputation, good Nature, good Manners, and Piety itself. The first clamour which some malicious persons raised, and made a great noise with, was, That it was a piece intended for abuse and Satire against the King's party. Good God Against the King's party? After having served it twenty years during all the time of their misfortunes and afflictions, I must be a very rash and imprudent person if I chose out that of their Restitution to begin a Quarrel with them. I must be too much a Madman to be trusted with such an Edged Tool as Comedy. But first, why should either the whole party (as it was once distinguished by that name, which I hope is abolished now by Universal Loyalty) or any man of virtue or honour in it, believe themselves injured or at all concerned, by the representation of the faults and follies of a few who in the General division of the Nation had crowded in among them? In all mixed numbers (which is the case of Parties) nay, in the most entire and continued Bodies there are often some degenerate and corrupted parts, which may be cast away from that, and even cut off from this Unity, without any infection of scandal to the remaining Body. The Church of Rome with all her arrogance, and her wide pretences of certainty in all truths, and exemption from all Errors, does not clap on this enchanted Armour of Infallibility upon all her particular Subjects, nor is offended at the reproof even of her greatest Doctors. We are not, I hope, become such Puritans ourselves as to assume the Name of the Congregation of the Spotless. It is hard for any Party to be so Ill as that no Good, Impossible to be so Good as that no Ill should be found among them. And it has been the perpetual privilege of Satire and Comedy to pluck their vices and follies though not their Persons out of the Sanctuary of any Title. A Cowardly ranting Soldier, an Ignorant Charlatanical Doctor, a foolish Cheating Lawyer, a silly Pedantical Scholar, have, always been, and still are the Principal Subjects of all Comedy without any scandal given to those Honourable Professions, or ever taken by their severest Professors; And, if any good Physician or Divine should be offended with me here for inveighing against a Quack, or for finding Deacon Soaker too often in the Butteryes, my respect and reverence to their callings would make me troubled at their displeasure, but I could not abstain from taking them for very Choleric and Quarrelsome persons. What does this therefore amount to, if it were true which is objected? But it is far from being so; for the representation of two Sharks about the Town (fellows merry and Ingenious enough, and therefore admitted into better companies than they deserve, yet withal too very scoundrels, which is no unfrequent Character at London) the representation I say of these as Pretended Officers of the Royal Army, was made for no other purpose but to show the World, that the vices and extravagancies imputed vulgarly to the Cavaliers, were really committed by Aliens who only usurped that name, and endeavoured to cover the reproach of their Indigency or Infamy of their Actions with so honourable a Title. So that the business was not here to correct or cut off any natural branches, though never so corrupted or Luxuriant, but to separate and cast away that vermin which by sticking so close to them had done great and considerable prejudice both to the Beauty and Fertility of the Tree; And this is as plainly said, and as often inculcated as if one should write round about a Sign, This is a Dog, this is a Dog, out of overmuch caution lest some might happen to mistake it for a Lion, Therefore when this Calumny could not hold (for the case is clear, and will take no colour) Some others sought out a subtler hint to traduce me upon the same score, and were angry that the person whom I made a true Gentleman, and one both of considerable Quality and Sufferings in the Royal party, should not have a fair and noble Character throughout, but should submit in his great extremities to wrong his Niece for his own Relief. This is a refined exception, such as I little foresaw, nor should with the dulness of my usual Charity, have found out against another man in twenty years. The truth is, I did not intend the Character of a Hero, one of exemplary virtue, and as Homer often terms such men, Unblameable, but an ordinary jovial Gentleman, commonly called a Good Fellow, one not so conscientious as to starve rather than do the least Injury, and yet endowed with so much sense of Honour as to refuse when that necessity was removed, the gain of five thousand pounds which he might have taken from his Niece by the rigour of a Forfeiture; And let the frankness of this latter generosity so expiate for the former frailty, as may make us not ashamed of his Company, for if his true Metal be but equal to his Alloy, it will not indeed render him one of the Finest sorts of men, but it will make him Current, for aught I know, in any party that ever yet was in the World. If you be to choose parts for a Comedy out of any noble or elevated rank of persons, the most proper for that work are the worst of that kind. Comedy is humble of her Nature, and has always been bred low, so that she knows not how to behave herself with the great or the accomplished. She does not pretend to the brisk and bold Qualities of Wine, but to the Stomachal Acidity of Vinegar, and therefore is best placed among that sort of people which the Romans call The Lees of Romulus. If I had designed here the celebration of the Virtues of our Friends, I would have made the Scene nobler where I intended to erect their Statues. They should have stood in Odes, and Tragedies, and Epique Poems, (neither have I totally omitted those greater testimonies of my esteem of them) Sed nunc non erat his Locus, etc. And so much for this little spiny objection which a man cannot see without a Magnifying Glass. The next is enough to knock a man down, and accuses me of no less than Profaneness. Profane, to deride the Hypocrisy of those men whose skulls are not yet bare upon the Gates since the public and just punishment of it? But there is some imitation of Scripture Phrases; God forbid; There is no representation of the true face of Scripture, but only of that Vizard which these Hypocrites (that is, by interpretation Actors with a Vizard) draw upon it. It is Profane to speak of Harrisons return to Life again, when some of his friends really professed their belief of it, and he himself had been said to promise it? A man may be so imprudently scrupulous as to find profaneness in any thing either said or written by applying it under some similitude or other to some expressions in Scripture. This nicety is both vain and endless. But I call God to witness, that rather than one tittle should remain among all my writings which according to my severest judgement should be found guilty of the crime objected, I would myself burn and extinguish them all together. Nothing is so detestably lewd and rechless as the derision of things sacred, and would be in me more unpardonable than any man else, who have endeavoured to root out the ordinary weeds of Poetry, and to plant it almost wholly with Divinity. I am so far from allowing any loose or irreverent expressions in matters of that Religion which I believe, that I am very tender in this point even for the grossest errors of Conscientious persons, They are the properest object (me thinks) both of our pitty and Charity too; They are the innocent and white Sectaries, in comparison of another kind who engraft Pride upon Ignorance, Tyranny upon Liberty, and upon all their Heresies, Treason and Rebellion. These are Principles so destructive to the Peace and Society of Mankind that they deserve to be pursued by our serious Hatred, and the putting a Mask of Sanctity upon such Devils is do Ridiculous, that it ought to be exposed to contempt and laughter. They are indeed Profane, who counterfeit the softness of the voice of Holiness to disguise the roughness of the hands of Impiety, and not they who with reverence to the thing which the others dissemble, deride nothing but their Dissimulation. If some piece of an admirable Artist should be ill Copied even to ridiculousness by an ignorant hand, and another Painter should undertake to draw that Copy, and make it yet more ridiculous, to show apparently the difference of the two works, and deformity of the latter, will not every man see plainly that the abuse is intended to the foolish Imitation, and not to the Excellent Original? I might say much more to confute and confound this very false and malicious accusation, but this is enough I hope to clear the matter, and is I am afraid too much for a Preface to a work of so little consideration. As for all other objections which have been or may be made against the Invention or Elocution, or any thing else which comes under the Critical jurisdiction, let it stand or fall as it can answer for itself, for I do not lay the great stress of my Reputation upon a Structure of this Nature, much less upon the slight Reparations only of an Old and unfashionable Building. There is no Writer but may fail sometimes in point of Wit, and it is no less frequent for the Auditors to fail in point of judgement. I perceive plainly by daily experience that Fortune is Mistress of the Theatre, as Tully says it is of all popular Assemblies. No man can tell sometimes from whence the Invisible winds arise that move them. There are a multitude of people who are truly and only Spectators at a play, without any use of their Understanding, and these carry it sometimes by the strength of their Number. There are others who use their Understanding too much, who think it a sign of weakness or stupidity to let any thing pass by them unattaqued, and that the Honour of their judgement (as some Brutals imagine of their Courage) consists in Quarrelling with every thing. We are therefore wonderful wise men, and have a fine business of it, we who spend our time in Poetry, I do sometimes laugh, and am often angry with myself when I think on it, and if I had a Son inclined by Nature to the same folly, I believe I should bind him from it, by the strictest conjurations of a paternal Blessing. For what can be more ridiculous than to labour to give men delight, whilst they labour on their part more earnestly to take offence? to expose one's self voluntarily and frankly to all the dangers of that narrow passage to unprofitable Fame, which is defended by rude multitudes of the Ignorant, and by armed Troops of the Malicious? If we do ill many discover it and all despise us, if we do well but few men find it out, and fewer entertain it kindly. If we commit errors there is no parson, if we could do wonders there would be but little thanks, and that too extorted from unwilling Givers. But some perhaps may say, Was it not always thus? Do you expect a particular privilege that was never yet enjoyed by any Poet? were the ancient Grecian, or noble Roman Authors, was Virgil himself exempt from this Passibility, Qui melior multis quam tu fuit, Improbe, rebus, Who was in many things thy better far, Thou impudent Pretender? As was said by Lucretius to a person who took it ill that he was to Die, though he had seen so many do it before him who better deserved Immortality; and this is to repine at the natural condition of a Living Poet, as he did at that of a Living Mortal. I do not only acknowledge the Preeminence of Virgil (whose Footsteps I adore) but submit to many of his Roman Brethren, and I confess that even they in their own times were not secure from the assaults of Detraction (though Horace brags at last, Jam dente minùs mordeor invido) but then the Barkings of a few were drowned in the Applause of all the rest of the World, and the Poison of their Bitings extiguisht by the Antidote of great rewards, and great encouragements, which is a way of curing now out of use, and I really profess that I neither expect, nor think I deserve it. Indolency would serve my turn instead of Pleasure; But the case is not so well; for though I comfort myself with some assurance of the favour and affection of very many candid and good natured (and yet too judicious and even Critical) persons, yet this I do affirm, that from all which I have written I never received the least benefit, or the least advantage, but on the contrary have felt sometimes the effects of Malice and Misfortune.   

The Prologue.  
AS when the Midland Sea is no where clear  
From dreadful Fleets of Tunis and Argier,  
Which coast about, to all they meet with Foes,  
And upon which nought can be got but Blows,  
The Merchand Ships so much their passage doubt,  
That, though full-freighted, none dares venture out,  
And Trade dacayes, and Scarcity ensues;  
Just so the timorous Wits of late refuse,  
Though jaded, to put forth upon the Stage,  
Affrighted by the Critics of this age.  
It is a Party numerous, watchful, bold;  
They can from nought, which sails in sight, withhold.  
Nor do their cheap, though mortal, Thunder spare;  
They shoot, alas, with Wind-gunns, charged with Air.  
But yet, Gentlemen Critics of Argier,  
For your own interest I'd advise ye here  
To let this little Forlorn Hope go by  
Safe and untouched; That must not be (you'll cry)  
If ye be wise, it must; I'll tell ye why.  
There are Seven, Eight, Nine,— stay— there are behind  
Ten Plays at least, which wait but for a Wind,  
And the glad News that we the Enemy miss,  
And those are all your own, if you spare This.  
Some are but new trimmed up, others quite New,  
Some by known Shipwrights built, and others too  
By that great Author made, who ere he be,  
That styles himself Person of Quality.  
All these, if we miscarry here to day.  
Will rather till they Rot in th' Harbour stay,  
Nay they will back again, though they were come,  
Even to their last safe Rode, to Tiring room.  
Therefore again I say, if you be wise,  
Let this for once pass free; let it suffice  
That we your Soveraing power here to avow,  
Thus humbly ere we pass, strike sail to You.   

Added at Court.  
STay Gentlemen; what I have said, was all  
But forced submission, which I now recall.  
You're all but Pirates now again; for here  
Does the true Sovereign of the Seas appear.  
The Sovereign of these Narrow Seas of wit;  
'Tis his own Thames; He knows and Governs it.  
'Tis his Dominion, and Domain; as He  
Pleases, 'tis either Shut to us or Free.  
Not only, if his Passport we obtain,  
We fear no little Rovers of the Main,  
But if our Neptune his calm visage show,  
No Wave shall dare to Rise or Wind to Blow.   

The Persons.  
Colonel Jolly 
A Gentleman whose Estate was confiscated in the late troubles.  Mistress Aurelia 
His Daughter.  Mistress Lucia 
His Niece, left to his Tuition.  Cutter 
A merry sharking fellow about the Town, pretending to have been a Colonel in the King's Army.  Worm 
His Companion, and such another fellow, pretending to have been a Captain.  Mr. Puny 
A young, rich, brisk Fop, pretending to extraordinary wit, Suitor to Mistress Lucia.  Mr. Truman Senior. 
An old, testy, Covetous Gentleman.  Mr. Truman Junior 
His Son, in love with Mistress Lucia.  Mistress Barebottle 
A Sopeboylers widow, who had bought Jollys Estate, A pretended Saint.  Mistress Tabytha 
Her Daughter.  Mistress Jane 
Mistress Lucias Maid, a little laughing Fop.  Mr. Soaker 
A little Fuddling Deacon.  Several Servants 
   

CUTTER OF COLEMAN-STREET.  

Act 1.  

Scene 1.  Truman junior. 
HOW hard, alas, is that young Lover's fate,  
Who has a father Covetous and Choleric!  
What has he made me swear?—  
I dare not think upon the Oath, lest I should keep it—  
Never to see my Mistress more, or hear her speak  
Without his leave; And farewell then the use  
Of Eyes and Ears;—  
And all this Wickedness I submitted to,  
For fear of being Disinherited;  
For fear of losing Dirt and Dross, I lose  
My Mistress— There's a Lover! Fitter much  
For Hell than thousand perjuries could make him,  
Fit to be made th'Example which all Women  
Should reproach Men with, when themselves grow false;  
Yet she, the good and charitable Lucia,  
With such a bounty as has only been  
Practised by Heaven, and Kings inspired from thence,  
Forgives still, and still loves her perjured Rebel,  
I'll to my father straight, and swear to him  
Ten thousand Oaths ne'er to observe that wicked one  
Which he ' has extorted from me— Here he comes;  
And my weak heart, already used to falsehood,  
Begins to waver.   

Scene 2.  Truman Senior, Truman junior. Trum. Sen. 
Well, Dick, you know what you swore to me yesterday,  
And solemnly.  
I ha' been considering, and considering all Night, Dick, for your good, and methinks, supposing I were a young man again, and the case my own (for I love to be just in all things) methinks 'tis hard for a young man, I say, who has been a Lover so long as you ha' been, to break off on a sudden. Am I in the right or no, Dick? Do you mark me?  Trum. jun. 
Hard, Sir, 'tis harder much than any death  
Prolonged by Tortures.  Trum. Sen. 
Why so I thought; and therefore out o' my care for your ease, I have hit upon an Expedient that I think will salve the matter!  Trum. jun. 
And I will thank you for it more, Sir,  
Than for the life you gave me.  Trum. sen. 
Why! well said, Dick, and I'm glad with all my Heart, I thought upon't; in brief, 'tis this, Dick; I ha' found out another Mistress for you.  Trum. jun. 
Another? Heaven forbid, Sir!  Trum. sen. 
I; Another, Goodman Jack Sauce; marry come up;  
Won't one o' my choosing serve your turn, as well  
As one o' your own; sure I'm the older man,  
Jack Sauce, and should be the Wiser!  Trum. jun. 
But Nature, Sir, that's wiser than all Mankind,  
Is Mistress in the choice of our affections,  
Affections are not raised from outward Reasons,  
But inward Sympathies.  Trum. sen. 
Very well, Dick, if you be a dutiful son to me, you shall have a good Estate, and so has she;  
There's Sympathy for you now; but I perceive  
You're hankering still after Mrs. Lucy,  
Do, do! forswear yourself; do, damn yourself, and be a beggar too; sure I would never undo myself, by perjury; if I had a mind to go to hell, Cromwell should make me a Lord for't! ay, and one of his Council too, I'd never be damned for nothing, for a Whim-wham in a Coif. But to be short, The person I design for you is Mrs. Tabith Baarebottle, our neighbour the Widow's daughter. What do you start at, Sirrah? ay, Sirrah, Jack an-apes, if you start when your father speaks to you.  Trum. jun. 
You did not think her father once I'm sure A person fit for your Alliance, when he plundered your House in Hartfordshire, and took away the very Hop-poles, pretending they were Arms too.  Trum. sen. 
He was a very Rogue, that's the Truth on't, as to the business between man and man, but as to God-ward he was always counted an Upright man, and very devout. But that's all one, I'm sure h'as raised a fine Estate out o' nothing by his Industry in these Times: An' I had not been a Beast too— but Heaven's will be done, I could not ha' done't with a good conscience. Well, Dick, I'll go talk with her mother about this matter, and examine fully what her Estate is, for unless it prove a good one, I tell you true, Dick, I'm o' your Opinion, not to marry such a Rogues daughter.  Trum. jun. 
I beseech you, Sir— Exit Trum: sen.  
It is in vain to speak to him—  
Though I to save this Dunghill an Estate  
Have done a Crime like theirs,  
Who have abjured their King for the same cause,  
I will not yet, like them, pursue the guilt,  
And in thy place, Lucia my lawful Sovereign,  
Set up a low and scandalous Usurper!  Enter Servant. Seru. 
'Tis well the old man's just gone. There's a Gentlewoman without, Sir, desires to speak one word with you.  Trum. jun. 
With me? who is't?  Seru. 
It should be Mrs. Lucia by her voice, Sir, but she's veiled all over. Will you please to see her, Sir?  Trum. 
Will I see her, Blockhead? yes; go out and kneel to her And pray her to come in. (Exit Seru.)   

Scene 3.  Lucia (veiled) Truman. Trum. 

This is a favour, Madam!  
That I as little hoped, as I am able  
To thank you for it— But why all this muffling?  
Why a disguise, my Dearest, between us?  
Unless to increase, my desire first, and then my joy to see thee  
Thou cast this subtle night before thy beauty.  
And now like one scorched with some raging Fever,  
Upon whose flames no dew of sleep has fallen,  
I do begin to quarrel with the Darkness,  
And blame the slothful rising of the Morn,  
And with more joy shall welcome it, than they  
Whose Icy dwellings the cold Bear overlooks,  
When after half the years Winter and Night,  
Day and the Spring at once salutes their sight!  
Thus it appears, thus like thy matchless beauty, offers to pull off the Veil.  
When this black Cloud is vanished.  
Why d'ye you shrink back, my Dearest?  
I prithee let me look a little on thee:  
'Tis all the pleasure Love has yet allowed me,  
And more than Nature does in all things else.  
At least speak to me; well may I call it Night  
When Silence too thus joins itself with Darkness.  
Ha! I had quite forgot the cursed Oath I made—  
Pish! what's an Oath forced from a Lover's Tongue?  
'Tis not recorded in Heaven's dreadful book,  
But scattered loosely by the breath that made it,  
Away with it; to make it was but a Rashness,  
To keep it were a Sin— Dear Madam— Offers again, but she refuses, & gives him a Note  
Ha! let's see this then first!   

You know I have forgiven your unkind Oath to your He reads.  
Father, and shall never suffer you to be perjured.   
I come only to let you know, that the Physician and the 'Pothecary will do this morning what we proposed, be ready at hand, if there should be occasion for your presence, I dare not stay one minute. Farewell.  

Now thousand Angels wait upon thee, Lucia,  
And thousand Blessings upon all thou dost.  
Let me but kiss your hand, And I'll dismiss you.  
Ah cruel father, when thou mad'st the Oath,  
Thou little thought'st that thou hadst left  
Such blessings for me out of it. Exeunt.    

Scene 4.  Colonel jolly, Will (his Man.) Col. jolly in an Indian Gown and Nightcap. joll. 
Give me the Pills; what said the Doctor, Will?  Will. 
He said a great deal, Sir, but I was not Doctor enough to understand half of it.  joll. 
A man may drink, he says, for all these Baubles?  Will. 
He's ill advised if he give your Worship drinking Pills, for when you were drinking last together, a Fit took you to beat the Doctor, which your Worship told him was a new Disease.  joll. 
He was drunk then himself first, and spoke False Latin, which becomes a Doctor worse than a beating. But he does not remember that, I hope, now?  Will. 
I think he does, Sir, for he says the Pills  
Are to purge Black Choler!  joll. 
ay, Melancholy; I shall ha' need of them then, for my old Purger of Melancholy, Canary, will grow too dear for me shortly; my own Estate was sold for being with the King at Oxford. A Curse upon an old Dunce that needs must be going to Oxford at my years! My good Neighbour, I thank him, Colonel Fear-the Lord-Barebottle, a Saint and a Soap-boiler, bought it; But he's dead, and boiling now himself, that's the best of't; There's a Cavalier's comfort! If his damnable Wife now would marry me, it would return again, as I hope all things will at last; and even that too were as hard a Composition for ones own, as ever was made at Habber-dashers-Hall; but hang her, she'll ha' none o' me, unless I were True Rich and Counterfeit Godly; let her go to her husband; (so much for that— It does not go down takes a Pill. so glib as an Egg in Muskadine) Now when my Niece's Portion too goes out o' my hands, which I can keep but till a handsome Wench of eighteen pleases to marry (a pitiful slender Tenure that's the truth on't) I ha' nothing to do but to live by Plots for the King, or at least to be hanged by 'em. (So, go thou too) well, something must be takes the two other Pills. done, unless a man could get true Gems by drinking, or like a Mouse in a Cheese, make himself a house by eating.  
Will, did you send for Colonel Cutter and Captain Worm, to come and keep me company this morning that I take Physic? They'll be loath to come to day, there's so little hope o' drinking here.  Will. 
They said they would be here, Sir, before this time;  
Some Morning's draught, I believe, has intercepted 'em.  joll. 
I could Repent now heartily, but that 'twould look as if I were compelled to't, and besides if it should draw me to Amendment, 'twould undo me now, till I ha' gotten something. 'Tis a hard case to wrong my pretty Niece; but unless I get this wicked Widow, I and my daughter must starve else; and that's harder yet; Necessity is, as I take it, Fatality, and that will excuse all things, O! Here they are!   

Scene 5.  Colonel jolly, Colonel Cutter, Captain Worm. joll. 
Welcome! Men o' war, what news abroad in Town?  Cut. 
Brave news I faith, it arrived but yesterday by an Irish Priest, that came over in the habit of a Fishwife, a cunning fellow, and a man o' business, he's to lie Leaguer here for a whole Irish College beyond-Sea, and do all their Affairs of State. The Captain spoke with him last night at the Blue Anchor!  joll. 
Well, and what is't?  Worm. 
Why, Business is afloat again; the King has mustered five and twenty thousand men in Flanders, as tall Fellows as any are in Christendom.  joll. 
A pox upon you for a couple of gross Cheats!  
I wonder from what fools in what blind corners you get a dinner for this stuff.  Cut. 
Nay, there's another News that's stranger ye, but for that let the Captain Answer.  Wor. 
I confess I should ha' thought it very ridiculous, but that I saw it from a good hand beyond Sea, under Black and White, and all in cipher.  joll. 
Oh it can't miss then; what may it be, pray?  Wor. 
Why, that the Emperor of Muscovy has promised  
To land ten thousand Bears in England to  
Overrun the Country.  joll. 
Oh! that's in revenge of the late barbarous Murder of their brethren here I warrant you!  Cut. 
Why, Colonel, things will come about again!  
We shall have another 'bout fort!  joll. 
Why all this to a friend that knows you? where were thy former Bouts, I prithee Cutter? where didst thou ever serve the King, or when?  Cut. 
Why every where; and the last time at Worcester  
If I never served him since, the faults not mine; an there had been any Action—  joll. 
At Worcester, Cutter? prithee how gots thou thither?  Cut. 
Why as you and all other Gentlemen should ha' done; I carried him in a Troop of Reformado Officers; most of them had been under my command before!  joll. 
I'll be sworn they were Reformado Tapsters then; but prithee how gets thou off?  Cut. 
Why as the King himself, and all the rest of the great ones; in a disguise; if you'll needs know't.  Wor. 
He's very cautious, Colonel, h'as kept it ever since.  joll. 
That's too long i'faith, Cutter, prithee take one disguise now more at last, and put thyself into the habit of a Gentleman.  Cut. 
I'll answer no more Prethees; Is this the Mornings-draught you sent for me to?  joll. 
No, I ha' better news for ye both, than ever ye had from a good Irish hand; the truth is I have a Plot for ye, which if it take, ye Shall no more make monstrous Tales from Bruges to revive your sinking Credits in Loyal Alehouses, nor inveigle into Taverns young Foremen of the Shop, or little beardless Blades of the Inns of Court, to drink to the Royal Family Parabolically, and with bouncing Oaths like Cannon at every Health; nor upon unlucky failing afternoons take melancholy turns in the Temple Walks, and when you meet acquaintance, cry, You wonder why your Lawyer stays so long with a pox to him.  Wor. 
This Physic has stirred ill humours in the Colonel, would they were once well purged, and we a Drinking again lovingly together as we were wont to do.  joll. 
Nor make headless quarrels about the Reckoning time, and leave the house in confusion; nor when you go to bed produce ten several snuffs to make up one poor Pipe o' Tobacco!  Cut. 
Would I had one here now; I ha' ned had my morning Smoak yet, by this day!  joll. 
Nor change your names and lodgings as often as a Whore: for as yet if ye lived like Tartars in a Cart (as I fear ye must die in one) your home could not be more uncertain. To day at Wapping, and to morrow you appear again upon Mill-bank (like a Duck that Dives at this end of the Pond, and rises unexpectedly at the other) I do not think Pythagoras his Soul e'er changed so many dwellings as you ha' done within these two years.  Cut. 
Why, what then, Colonel? Soldiers must remove their Tents sometimes, Alexander the Great did it a thousand times.  Worm. 
Nine hundred, Cutter, you're but a Dunce in Story;  
But what's all this to th' matter, Noble Colonel?  
You run a Woolgathering like a zealous Teacher;  
Where's the use of Consolation that you promised us?  joll. 
Why thou shalt have it, little Worm, for these Damned Pills begin to make me horrible sick, and are not like to allow of long Digressions; Thus briefly then, as befits a man in my case!  
When my brother the Merchant went into Africa, to follow his great Trade there—  Wor. 
How o' Devil could he follow it? why he had quite lost his memory; I knew him when he was fain to carry his own Name in Writing about him for fear lest he should forget it.  joll. 
Oh his man john, you know, did all, yet still he would go about with old john, and thought if he did Go, he did his business himself; well, when he went he left his Daughter with a Portion o' five thousand pounds to my Tuition, and if she married without my consent, she was to have but a thousand of it. When he was gone two years he died—  Wor. 
He did a little forget himself methinks, when he left the Estate in your hands, Colonel.  joll. 
Hold your tongue, Captain Coxcomb; now the case is this; ye shall give me a thousand pounds for my interest and favour in this business, settle the rest upon her, and her children, or me and mine, if she ha' none (d''ee mark me? for I will not have one penny of the Principal pass through such glewy Fingers) upon these terms I'll marry her to one of you; Always provided though, that he whom she shall choose (for she shall have as fair a choice as can be between two such fellows) shall give me good assurances of living afterwards like a Gentleman, as befits her husband, and cast off the tother's company!  Cut. 
The Conditions may be admitted of, though if I have her, she'll ha' no ill bargain on't when the King comes home; but how, Colonel, if she should prove a foolish fantastical Wench, and refuse to marry either of us?  joll. 
Why! then she shall never ha' my consent to marry any body; and she'll be hanged, I think, first in the Friar's Rope, ere she turn Nun.  Wor. 
I'll be a Carthusian an she do!  joll. 
If't were not for Chastity and Obedience thou mightest be so; their t'other Vow of never carrying any money about them, thou hast kept from thy youth upwards.  Wor. 
I'll have her; I'm the better Scholar; and we're both equal Soldiers, I'm sure.  Cut. 
Thou, Captain Bobadil? what with that Ember-week face o' thine? that Razor o' thy Nose? thou look'st as if thou hadst never been fed since thou suckest thy mother's milk. Thy cheeks begin to fall into thy mouth, that thou mightest eat them. Why thou very Lath, with a thing cut like a face at Top, and a slit at bottom. I am a man ha' served my King and Country, a person of Honour, Dogbolt, and a Colonel.  Wor. 
Yes, as Priests are made now a days, a Colonel made by thine own self. I must confess thus much o' thy good parts, thou 'rt beholding to no body but thyself for what thou art. Thou a Soldier? Did not I see thee once in a quarrel at Ninepins behind Sodom-lane disarmed with one o' the pins? Alas, good Cutter! there's difference, as I take it, betwixt the clattering o' Swords and Quart-pots, the effusion of Blood and Claret-wine—  Cut. 
(What a Barking little Curr's this?)  Wor. 
The smoke o' Guns and Tobacco— nor can you, Cutter, fight the better, because you ha' beat an old Bawd or a Drawer; besides, what parts hast thou? Hast thou Scholarship enough to make a Brewer's Clerk? Canst thou read the Bible? I'm sure thou hast not; canst thou write more than thine own name, and that in such vile Characters, that most men take 'em for Arabian Pot-hooks! Dost thou not live, Cutter, in the Chymaerian darkness of Ignorance?  joll. 
Cymmerian, Captain, prithee let it be Cymmerian!  Wor. 
I; I know some will have it so; but by this light I always call't Chymaerian!  Cut. 
O brave Scholar! has the Colonel caught you in false Latin, you dunce you? you'd e'en as good stick to your Captainship; and that you may thank me for, you ingrateful Pimp you, was not I the first that ever called you so? and said you had served stoutly in my Regiment at Newberry?  joll. 
Thy Regiment?— well! leave your quarrelling, Baboons, and try your fortunes fairly; I begin to be very very sick, I'll leave you, and send in my Niece to entertain you, upon my life, if you quarrel any more, As great Soldiers as you are, I'll ha' you Cashiered for ever out o' this Garrison o'mine, look to't. Exit Col. joll.  Wor. 
Come Cutter, we'd e'en better play fair play with one another, than lose all to a third. Let's draw Cuts who shall accost her first when she comes in, and the t'other void the room for a little while.  Cutt. 
Agreed! you may thank the Colonel for coming off so easily; you know well enough I dare not offend him at such a time as this!  Wor. 
The longest first— Draw Lots.  Cut. 
Mine! Od's my life! here she is already!   

Scene 6.  Lucia, Cutter, Worm. Luc. 
Not choose amiss? indeed I must do, Uncle, To herself at her Entrance.  
If I should choose again; especially,  
If I should do't out of your drinking company;  
Though I have seen these fellows here, I think  
A hundred times, yet I so much despise 'em,  
I never asked their names: But I must speak to 'em now. My Uncle, Gentlemen, will wait upon you presently again, and sent me hither to desire your patience!  Cut. 
Patience, Madam, will be no Virtue requisite for us, whilst you are pleased to stay here; Ha, ha! Cutter! that lit pretty pat i'faith for a beginning, Worm goes out.  Luc. 
Is your friend going, Sir?  Cut. 
Friend, Madam?— (I hope I shall be even with him presently) he's a merry fellow that your Uncle and I divert ourselves withal.  Luc. 
What is he? pray Sir.  Cut. 
That's something difficult to tell you, Madam; But he has been all things. He was a Scholar once, and since a Merchant, but broke the first half year; after that he served a Justice o' Peace, and from thence turned a kind o' Solicitor at Goldsmiths-hall; h'as a pretty Smattering too in Poetry, and would ha' been my Lady Protectres' Poet; He writ once a Copy in praise of her Beauty, but her Highness gave him for it but an old Half-crown piece in Gold, which she had hoarded up before these troubles, and that discouraged him from any further Applications to the Court. Since that, h'as been a little Agitator for the Cavalier party, and drew in one of the Prentices that were hanged lately; He's a good ingenious fellow, that's the truth on't, and a pleasant Droll when h'as got a cup o' Wine in his pate, which your Uncle and I supply him with; but for matters that concern the King neither of us trust him. Not that I can say h'as betrayed any body, but he's so indigent a Varlet, that I'm afraid he would sell his Soul to Oliver for a Noble. But Madam, what a pox should we talk any more o' that Mole-catcher? (Now I'm out again— I am so used only to ranting Whores, that an honest Gentlewoman puts me to a Nonplus!)  Luc. 
Why, my Uncle recommended him to me, Sir, as a Person of Quality, and of the same Condition with yourself, only that you had been a Colonel o' Foot, and he a Captain of Horse in his Majesty's Service.  Cut. 
You know your Uncle's Drolling humour, Madam; he thought there was no danger in the Raillery, and that you'd quickly find out what he was; Here he comes again, Enter Worm. I'll leave him with you, Madam, for a Minute, and wait upon you immediately, (I am at a loss, and must recover myself) Captain, I ha' dealt better by you than you deserved, and given you a high Character to her; see you do me right too, if there be occasion— I'll make bold though to harken whether you do or no.  Exit Cutter, and stands at the door. Wor. 
Madam, my Noble friend your Uncle has been pleased to honour me so far with his good Opinion, as to allow me the liberty to kiss your hands.  Luc. 
You're welcome, Sir, but pray, Sir, give me leave  
Before you enter into farther Compliment  
To ask one question of you.  Wor. 
I shall resolve you, Madam, with that truth  
Which may, I hope, invite you to believe me  
In what I'm to say afterwards.  Luc. 
'Tis to tell me your friends Name, Sir, and his Quality, which, though I've seen him oft, I am yet ignorant of: I suppose him to be some honourable person, who has eminently served the King in the late Wars.  Cut. 
'Tis a shrewd discerning Wench, she has hit me at the door. right already!  Wor. 
They call him Colonel Cutter, but to deal faithfully with you, Madam, he's no more a Colonel than you're a Major General.  Cut. 
Ha! sure I mistake the Rogue!  Wor. 
He never served his King, not he, no more than he does his Maker; 'Tis true, h'as drunk his Health as often as any man, upon other men's charges, and he was for a little while, I think, a kind of Hector, till he was soundly beaten one day, and dragged about the room, like old Hector o' Troy about the Town.  Cut. 
What does this Dog mean, trow?  Wor. 
Once indeed he was very low for almost a twelvemonth, and had neither money enough to hire a Barber, nor buy Sizars, and then he wore a Beard (he said) for King Charles; he's now in pretty good clothes, but would you saw the furniture of his Chamber! marry half a Chair, an Earthen Chamberpot without an Ear, and the bottom of an Ink-horn for a Candlestiks, the rest is broken foul Tobacco-pipes, and a dozen o' Galley-pots with Sawfe in 'em.  Cut. 
Was there ever such a cursed Villain!  Wor. 
H'as been a known Cheat about the Town these twenty years.  Luc. 
What does my Uncle mean to keep him company, if he be such a one?  Wor. 
Why he's infatuated, I think! I ha' warned him on't a thousand times; he has some wit (to give the devil his due) and that 'tis makes us endure him, but however I'd advise your Uncle to be a a little more cautious how he talks before him o' State matters, for he's shrewdly wronged if he be ned Cromwel's Agent for all the Taverns between Kings-street and the Devil at Temple-bar, indeed he's a kind o' Resident in 'em.  Cut. 
Flesh and blood can bear no longer— Worm, you're a stinking, lying, perjured, damned Villain; and if I do not bring you, Madam, his Nose and both his Ears, and lay 'em at your feet here before night, may the Pillory and the Pox take mine▪ till then, suspend your judgement. Exit Cutter.  Luc. 
Nay, you're both even; just such an excellent Character did he bestow on you; Why, thou vile Wretch,  
Go to the Stews, the Gaol, and there make love,  
Thou'lt find none there but such as will scorn thee!  Wor. 
Why here's brave work i'faith! I ha' carried it swimmingly, I'll e'en go steal away and drink a dozen before I venture to think one thought o' the business. Exit.  Luc. 
Go cursed race, which stick your loathsome crimes  
Upon the Honourable Cause and Patty;  
And to the Noble Loyal Sufferers,  
A worser suffering add of Hate and Infamy.  
Go to the Robbers and the Parricides,  
And fix your Spots upon their Painted visards,  
Not on the Native face of Innocence,  
'Tis you retard that Industry by which  
Our Country would recover from this sickness;  
Which, whilst it fears th' eruption of such Ulcers,  
Keeps a Disease tormenting it within,  
But if kind Heaven please to restore our Health,  
When once the great Physician shall return,  
He quickly will I hope restore our Beauty. Exit.    

Act. 2.  

Scene 1.  Aurelia. 
I See 'tis no small part of policy  
To keep some little Spies in an Enemy's quarters:  
The Parliament had reason—  
I would not for five hundred pounds but ha' corrupted my Cousin Lucia's Maid; and yet it costs me nothing but Sack-possets, and Wine, and Sugar when her Mistress is a bed, and tawd'ry Ribbons, or fine Trimmed Gloves sometimes, and once I think a pair of Counterfeit Ruby Pendants That cost me half a Crown. The poor Wench loves Died Glass like any Indian, for a Diamond Bob I'd have her Maden-head if I were a Man and she a Maid. If her Mistress did but talk in her sleep sometimes o' my conscience she'd sit up all night and watch her, only to tell me in the morning what she said; 'Tis the prettiest diligent Wretch in her Calling, now she has undertakened.  

Her intelligence just now was very good, and  
May be o' consequence; That young Truman is  
Stolen up the back way into my Cousin's Chamber.   
These are your grave Maids that study Romances, and will be all Mandanas and Cassandra's, and never spit but by the Rules of Honour; Oh, here she comes, I hope, with fresh intelligence from the Foes Rendezvouz.   

Scene 2.  Aurelia, jane. jane. 
Ha, ha, ha! for the love of goodness hold me, or I shall fall down with laughing, ha, ha, ha! 'Tis the best humour— no— I can't tell it you for laughing— ha, ha, ha! the prettiest sport, ha, ha, ha!  Aur. 
Why, thou hast not seen him lie with her, hast thou?  
The Wench is mad; prithee what is't?  jane. 
Why (he, hei, ha!) My Mistress sits by her Servant in a long Veil that covers her from Top to Toe, and says not one word to him, because of the Oath you know that the old man forced his son to take after your Father had forbid him the house, and he talks half an hour, like an Ass as he is, all alone, and looks upon her hand all the while, and kisses it, But that which makes me die with laughing at the conceit (ha, ha, ha!) is, that when he asks her any thing, she goes to the Table, and writes her answer, you never saw such an innocent Puppet-play!  Aur. 
Dear jane (kiss me, jane,) how shall I do to see 'em?  jan. 
Why, Madam, I'll go look the key of my Mistress Closet above, that looks into her Chamber, where you may see all, and not be seen.  Aur. 
Why that's as good as the trick o' the Veil; do, dear jane, quickly, 'twill make us excellent sport at night, and we'll fuddle our Noses together, shall we, dear jane?  jane. 
ay, dear Madam! I'll go seek out the key. Exit jane.  Aur. 
'Tis strange, if this trick o' my Cousins should beget no trick o' mine, That would be pitiful dull doings.   

Scene 3.  Aurelia, Mr. Puny. Aur. 
Here comes another of her Servants; a young, rich, fantastical Fop, that would be a Wit, and has got a new way of being so; he scorns to speak any thing that's common, and finds out some impertinent similitude for every thing, The Devil I think can't find out one for him. This Coxcomb has so little Brains too, as to make me the Confident of his Amours, I'll thank him for his Confidence ere I ha' done with him.  Pun: 
Whofe here? O Madam! is your father out of his Metaphorical Grave yet? you understand my meaning, my dear Confident? you're a Wit!  Aur. 
Like what, Mr. Puny?  Pun. 
Why— like— me!  Aur. 
That's right your way, Mr. Puny, it's an odd similitude.  Pun. 
But where's your father little Queen o' Diamonds? is he extant? I long like a Woman big with Twins to speak with him!  Aur. 
You can't now possibly, There was never any Creature so sick with a disease as he is with Physic, to day, the Doctor and the 'Pothecarie's with him; and will let no body come in. But, Mr. Puny, I have words o' comfort for you!  Pun. 
What, my dear Quenn o' Sheba! and I have Ophir for thee if thou hast.  Aur. 
Why your Rival is forbid our house, and has sworn to his father never to see or hear your Mistress more.  Pun. 
I knew that yesterday as well as I knew my Credo, but I'm the very Jew of Malta if she did not use me since that, worse than I'd use a rotten Apple.  Aur. 
Why that can't be, Brother Wit, why that were uncivilly done of her!  Pun. 
O hang her, Queen of Fairy's, (I'm all for Queens to day I think) she cares much for that; No, that Assyrian Crocodile Truman is still swimming in her praecordiums, but I'll so ferret him out, I'll beat him as a Bloomsbury Whore beats Hemp; I'll spoil his Grave Dominical Postures; I'll make him sneak, and look like a door off the hinges.  Aur. 
That's hard! but he deserves it truly, if he strive to Annihilate.  Pun. 
Why well said, Sister Wit, now thou speak'st oddly too!  Aur. 
Well, without wit or foolery, Mr. Puny, what will you give me, if this night, this very improbable night, I make you Marry my Cousin Lucia?  Pun. 
Thou talk'st like Medusa's head, thou astonishest me.  Aur. 
Well, in plain language as befits a Bargain; there's Pen and Ink in the next Chamber, give but a Bill under your hand to pay me five hundred pounds in Gold (upon forfeiture of a thousand if you fail) within an hour after the business is done, and I'll be bound Body for Body my Cousin Lucia shall be your Wife this night; if I deceive you, your Bond will do you no hurt, if, I do not, consider a little beforehand, whether the Work deserves the Reward, and do as you think fit.  Pun. 
There shall be no more considering than in a Hasty Pudding; I'll write it an' you will, in Shorthand, to dispatch immediately, and presently go put five hundred Mari-golds in a purse for you, Come away like an Arrow out of a Scythian Bow.  Aur. 
I'll do your business for you, I'll warrant you; Allons Mon-Cher. Exeunt.   

Scene 4.  Cutter, Worm. Cut. 
Now I ha' thee at the place, where thou affronted'st me, here will I cut thy throat.  Wor. 
You'll be hanged first.  Cut. 
No by this light.  Wor. 
You'll be hanged after then.  Cut. 
Not so neither; for I'll hew thee into so many morsels, that the Crowner shall not be able to give his Verdict whether 'twas the Body of a Man or of a Beast, as thou art. Thou shalt be mincemeat, Worm, within this hour.  Wor. 
He was a Coward once, nor have I ever heard one syllable since of his Reformation, he shall not daunt me.  Cut. 
Come on; I'll send thee presently to Erebus Draws. without either Bail or Mainprise.  Wor. 
Have at you, Cutter, an' thou hadst as many lives as are in Plutarch, I'd make an end of 'em all.  Cut. 
Come on, Miscreant.  Wor. 
Do, do! strike an' thou dar'st.  Cut. 
Coward, I'll give thee the advantage of the first push, Coward.  Wor. 
I scorn to take any thing o' thee, Jew.  Cut. 
If thou dar'st not strike first, thou submitt'ft, and I give thee thy life.  Wor. 
Remember, Cutter, you were treacherous first to me, and therefore must begin. Come, pox upon't, this quarrel will cost us quarts o' Wine a piece before the Treaty o' Peace be ended.  Cut. 
Here's company coming in; I'll hear o' no Treaties, Worm, we'll fight it out.   

Scene 5.  Aurelia, Puny, Cutter, Worm. Aur. 
Five hundred neat Gentlemen-like twenty-shilling Reading. pieces, though never washed nor barbed— A curse upon him, can't he write a Bond without these sotteries?  Pun. 
Why how now paynims? fighting like two Sea-fish in the Map? Why how now my little Gallimaufry, my Oleopodrido of Arts and Arms; Hold the fierce Gudging!  Aur. 
'Ods my life, Puny, let's go in again; that's the only way to part 'em.  Pun. 
Do, do! kill one another and be hanged like Ropes of Onions.  Cut. 
At your command? no, Puny! I'll be forced by no man; put up, Worm; we'll fight for no man's pleasure but our own.  Wor. 
Agreed! I won't make sport with murdering any man, an' he were a Turk.  Pun. 
Why now ye speak like the Pacifique Sea; we'll to the King's Poleanon, and drink all into Pylados again; we'll drink up a whole Vessel there to Redintegration, and that so big, that the Tun of Heidelberg shall seem but a Barrel of Pickled Oysters to't; mean time, thou pretty little Smith o' my good fortune, beat hard upon the Anvil of your Plot, I'll go and provide the Spankers. Exit Puny.  Cut. 
Your Cousin, Mrs. Aurelia, has abused us most irreverently.  Aur. 
Why what's the matter?  Cut. 
Your father recommended us two as Suitors to her.  Aur. 
And she'd ha' none of you? What a foolish Girl 'tis, to stand in her own light so?  Wor. 
Nay, that's not all, but she used us worse than if we'd been the veriest Rogues upon the face of the whole Earth.  Aur. 
That's a little thought too much, but 'twas safer erring o' that hand.  Cut. 
ay, we're like to get much, I see, by complaining to you.  Enter jane. jan. 
Ha, ha, ha! Here's the key o' the Closet, go up softly, Madam, ha, ha, ha! and make no noise, dear Madam, I must be gone.  Exit. Aur. 
Why does this little Foppitee laugh always? 'tis such a Ninny that she betrays her Mistress, and thinks she does no hurt at all, no, not she; well, wretched Lovers, come along with me now, (but softly upon your lives, as you would steal to a Mistress through her Mother's Chamber) and I'll show you this severe Penelope, locked up alone in a Chamber with your Rival.  Cut. 
As softly as Snow falls.  Wor. 
Or Vapours rise.  Aur. 
What are you Punish too with your Similitudes? Mum— not a word— pull off your shoes at bottom of the stairs, and follow me.   

Scene 6.  Enter Truman junior. And presently Aurelia, Cutter, and Worm appear at a little Window. Trum. 
Why should her cruel Uncle seek t' oppose  
A Love in all respects so good and equal?  
He has some wicked end in't, and deserves  
To be deceived!  Cut. 
Deceived? pray mark that Madam.  Trum. 
She is gone in to see if things be ripe yet  
To make our last attempt upon her Uncle;  
If our Plot fail—  Aur. 
A Plot i'faith, and I shall Counterplot ye.  Trum. 
In spite of our worst Enemies, our kindred,  
And a rash Oath that's canceled in the making,  
We will pursue our Loves to the last point,  
And buy that Paradise though 't be with Martyrdom!   

Scene 7.  Enter Lucia. She goes to the Table and Writes whilst he Speaks, and gives him the Paper. Trum. 
She's come, methinks I see her through her Veil;  
She's naked in my heart with all her Beauties.  Wor. 
Thou hast a Bawdy heart I'll warrant thee.  Cut. 
Hold your peace, Coxcomb.  Trum. 
That has, I think, taken an Oath  
Quite contrary to mine, never to see  
Any thing else!  
He's extreme sick, and thinks he shall die, Reads a paper given him by Lucia. the Doctor and 'Pothecary have acted very well; I'll be with him presently, go into my little Oratory, and pray for the A cry within, Mrs. Aurelia. success— I'll pray with as much zeal as any sinner, converted just upon the point of death, prays his short time out. Exeunt Truman & Lucia.  Aur. 
What can this mean? and They cry within. the cry within there? pray let's go down and see what's the matter.  Enter Will and Ralph crying. Will. 
Ah, Lord! my poor Master! Mrs. Aurelia, Mrs. Aurelia.  Aur. 
Here, what's the business?  Ralph. 
Oh Lord! the saddest accident.  Aur. 
For the love of Heaven speak quickly.  William 
I cannot speak for weeping; my poor Master's poisoned.  Aur. 
Poisoned? how prithee, and by whom?  Will. 
Why by the strangest Accident, Mistress.  
The Doctor prescribed one whatye call it with a hard name, and that careless Rogue the Pothecaries' man (mistaking one Glass for another that stood by it) put in another whatye call it, that is a mortal poison.  Aur. 
Oh then 'tis plain, this was the Plot they talked of; ye heard, Gentlemen, what they said; pray follow me and bear witness. Exit Aurelia.  Cut. 
Undoubtedly they had a hand in't; we shall be brought to swear against them, Worm.  Worm. 
I'll swear what I heard, and what I heard not but I'll hang 'em. I see I shall be revenged o' that proud Tit; but it grieves me for the Colonel.   

Scene 8.  Colonel Jolly (brought in a Chair) Aurelia, Cutter, Worm, Will, Ralph, other Servants. joll. 
Oh! I ha' vomited out all my guts, and all my entrails—  Aur. 
Oh my dear Father!  joll. 
I'm going, daughter— ha' ye sent the pocky Doctor and the plaguy 'Pothecary to a Justice o' Peace to be examined?  Will. 
Yes, Sir, your Worship's Steward and the Constable are gone with 'em; does your Worship think they did it out o' malice, and not by a mistake? if I had thought they did, I'd ha' hanged 'em presently, that you might ha' seen it done before you died.  joll. 
Huh, huh, huh! I think that Rogue the Doctor did it, because I beat him t'other day in our drinking! huh, huh, huh!  Aur. 
No, Sir, (O my dear father) no, Sir, you little think who were the Contrivers of your murder, e'en my Cousin Luce and her Gallant— Oh Lord— 'tis discovered by a miraculous providence— they're both together in her Chamber now, and there we overheard 'em as it pleased— these two Gentlemen heard 'em as well as I—  joll. 
Can they be such Monsters? Oh! I'm as hot as Lucifer— Oh— Oh—! what did you hear 'em say?— Oh my stomach!  Cut. 
Why that they had a Plot—  Aur. 
And that the Doctor and 'Pothecary had done it very well.  Wor. 
I and your Niece asked if he thought the Poison were strong enough.  Aur. 
There never was such an Impudence!  William 
How murder will out! I always thought, fellow Ralph, your Mistress Lucia was naught with that young smooth-faced Varlet; do you remember, Ralph, what I told you in the Butteries once?  Aur. 
Here she comes! O Impudence! Enter Lucia.  joll. 
Oh! Oh! Oh!— go all aside a little, and let me speak with her alone. Come hither, Niece— Oh! Oh—! you see by what accident 'thas pleased— huh— huh— huh— to take away your loving Uncle, Niece! huh:—  Luc. 
I see't, Sir, with that grief which your misfortune and mine in the loss of you does require.  Cut. 
There's a devil for you; but, Captain, Joll. and Luc: talk together. did you hear her speak o' poison, and whether it were strong enough?  Wor. 
No, but I love to strike home when, I do a business, I'm for through-stich; I'm through paced, what a pox should a man stand mincing?  Luc. 
I hope, Sir, and have faith, that you'll recover!  
But, Sir, because the danger's too apparent,  
And who (alas) knows how ` Heaven may dispose of you? before it grow too late (after your blessing) I humbly beg one Boon upon my knees.  joll. 
What is't (rise up Niece) Oh— I can deny you nothing at this time sure!  Luc. 
It is (I wi' not rise, Sir, till you grant it)  
That since the love 'twixt Truman and myself  
Has been so sixt, and like our fortunes equal,  
Ye would be pleased to sign before your death,  
The confirmation of that Love, our Contract,  
And when your Soul shall meet above, my fathers,  
As soon as he has bid you welcome thither,  
He'll thank you for this goodness to his daughter;  
I do conjure you, Sir, by his memory!  
By all your hopes of happiness hereafter!  
In a better world! and all your dearest wishes of happiness for those whom ye love most, and leave behind you here!  joll. 
You ha' deserved so well o' me Niece, that 'tis impossible to deny you any thing; where's gentle Mr. Truman?  Luc. 
In the next room, Sir, waiting on your will  
As on the Sentence of his life and death too.  joll. 
Oh— I'm very sick— pray bring him in.  Luc. 
A thousand Angels guard your life, Sir!  
Or if you die, carry you up to heaven. Exit.  Wor. 
Was there ever such a young dissembling Witch?  Cut. 
Here's Woman in perfection!  
The Devil's in their tails and in their tongues!  
Their possessed both ways!  joll. 
Will▪ Ralph, is jeremy there too? be ready when I speak to you.  Enter Truman, Lucia, (veiled.) Trum. 
Our prayers are heard, 'tis as we wished, dear Lucia, Oh this blessed hour!  joll. 
Take him and carry him up to the Green Chamber— Oh my belly— lock him in sure there, till you see what becomes of me; if I do die, he and his Mistress shall have but an ill Match of it at Tyburn. Oh my Guts— lock up Luce too in her Chamber.  Trum. 
What do ye mean, Gentlemen? are ye mad?  Will. 
We mean to lock you up safe, Sir, for a great Jewel as you are!  Luc. 
Pray hear me all.  joll. 
Away with 'em. Exit all the Servants, with Truman and Lucia several ways.  Aur. 
How do you, Sir? I hope you may overcome it, your Nature's strong, Sir.  joll. 
No, 'tis impossible; and yet I find a little ease, but 'tis but a flash— Aurelia— Oh there it wrings me again— fetch me the Cordial-glass in the Cabinet window, and the little Prayer-book; I would fain repent, but it comes so hardly— I am very unfit to die, if it would please Heaven— so, set down the Glass— there— give me—  Aur. 
The Prayer-book, Sir, 's all mouldy, I must wipe it first.  joll. 
Lay it down too— so— it begins t'assuage a little— there lay down the Book; 'twill but trouble my Brains now I'm a dying.  Enter Will. Will. 
Here's the Widow, Sir, without, and Mrs. Tabytha her daughter, they have heard o' your misfortune, and ha' brought Mr. Knock-down to comfort you.  joll. 
How? everlasting Knock-down! will they trouble a Man thus when he's a dying? Sirrah! Blockhead! let in joseph Knock-down, and I'll send thee to Heaven afore me; I have but an hour or two to live perhaps, and that's not enough for him I'm sure to preach in!  Will. 
Shall Mrs. Barebottle come in, Sir?  joll. 
That's a She Knock-down too; well, let her come in— huh! huh! huh! I must bear all things patiently now; but Sirrah, Rogue! take heed o' joseph Knock-down, thou shalt not live with ears if joseph Knock-down enter.  Enter Widow, Tabytha. Wid. 
How d' you Neighbour Colonel? how is't? take comfort.  joll. 
Cut off in the flower o' my age, Widow.  Wid. 
Why, Man's life is but a Flower, Mr. jolly, and the Flower withers, and Man withers, as Mr. Knock-down observed last Sabbath-day at Evening Exercise; But, Neighbour, you're passed the Flower, you're grown old as well as I—  joll. 
I'the very flower; that damned Quack-salver—  Tabith. 
Methoughts he was the ugliest fellow, Mother,  
And they say he's a Papish too, forsooth.  Wid. 
I never liked a Doctor with a Red Nose; my Husband was wont to say— how do you, Mrs. Aurelia? comfort yourself, we must all die sooner or later; to day here, to morrow gone.  joll. 
Oh the torture of such a tongue! would I were dead already, and this my Funeral Sermon.  Wid. 
Alas poor man! his tongue I warrant ye is hot as passes; you have a better memory than I, Tabytha, tell him what Mr. Knock-down said was a Saint's duty in tormenting sicknesses, now Poison's a great tormentor.  joll. 
Oh! Oh!— this additional Poison will certainly make an end of me!  Wid. 
Why seek for spiritual Incomes, Mr. Colonel; I'll tell you what my Husband Barebottle was wont to observe (and he was a Colonel too) he never sought for Incomes but he had some Blessing followed immediately; once he sought forem in Hartfordshire, and the next day he took as many Horses and Arms in the Country as served to raise three Troops; another time he sought for 'em in Bucklersbury, and three days after a friend of his, that he owed five hundred pounds too, was hanged for a Malignant, and the Debt forgiven him by the Parliament; a third time he sought for 'em in Hartfordshire—  Tabith. 
No, Mother, 'twas in Worcester-shire, forsooth.  Wid. 
ay, Child, it was indeed in Worcester-shire; and within two months after the Dean of VVorcester's Estate fell to him.  joll. 
He sought for 'em once out o' my Estate too, I thank him; Oh my head!  Wid. 
Why truly, Neighbour Colonel, he had that but for his Penny, and would have had but a hard Bargain of it, if he had not by a friends means of the Council hooked in two thousand pounds of his Arrears.  Cut. 
For shame let's relieve him; Colonel, you said you had a mind to settle some affairs of your Estate with me, and Captain Worm here.  Wid. 
I'll leave you then for a while, pray send for me, Neighbor, when you have a mind to't Heaven strengthen you; come, Tabytha.  joll. 
Aurelia, go out with them, and leave us three together for half an hour. Exit Wid. Tab. Aur. Stay you, Will, and reach me the Cordial; I begin to hope that my extreme violent fit of Vomiting and Purging has wrought out all the Poison, and saved my life— my Pain's almost quite gone, but I'm so sore and faint— give me the Glass.  Wor. 
What d' you mean, Colonel? you will not dote, I hope, now you're dying? drink I know not what there, made by a Doctor and a 'Pothecary? Drink a cup o' Sack, Man; healing Sack; you'll find your old Antidote best.  Cut. 
H'as reason, Colonel, it agrees best with your nature; 'tis good to recover your strength— as for the danger, that's past, I'm confident, already.  jol. 
Dost thou think so, honest Cutter? fetch him a Bottle o' Sack, Will, for that news; I'll drink a little myself, one little Beer-glass.  Cut. 
Poor creature! he would try all ways to live!  joll. 
Why if I do die, Cutter, a Glass o' Sack will do me no hurt I hope; I do not intend to die the Whining way, like a Girl that's afraid to lead Apes in Hell— So, Enter Will, with a Bottle & great Glass give it me; a little fuller,— yet— it warms exceedingly— and is very Cordial— So,— fill to the Gentlemen.  Wor. 
Let's drink, let's drink, whilst breath we have; Sings.  
You'll find but cold, but cold drinking in the Grave.  Cut. 
A Catch 'ifaith! Boy, go down, Boy, go down,  
And fill us t'other quart,  
That we may drink the Colonel's health  Wor. 
That we may drink the Colonel's health  Both. 
Before that we do part.  Wor. 
Why dost thou frown, thou arrant Clown?  
hay boys— Tope—  joll. 
Why this is very cheerly! pray let's ha' the Catch that we made t' other night against the Doctor.  Wor. 
Away with't, Cutter; hum—  
Come fill us the Glass o' Sack.  Cut. 
What Health do we lack?  Wor. 
Confusion to the Quack.  Both. 
Confound him, Confound him,  
Diseases all around him.  Cut. 
And fill again the Sack,  Wor. 
That no man may Lackwit,  Cut. 
Confusion to the Quack,  Both. 
Confusion to the Quack,  
Confound him, Confound him,  
Diseases all Around him.  Wor. 
He's a kind of Grave-maker,  Cut. 
A Urinal Shaker,  Wor. 
A wretched Groat-taker,  Cut. 
A stinking close-Stool raker,  Wor. 
He's a Quack that's worse than a Quaker.  Both. 
He's a Quack, etc.  Wor. 
hay, Boys— Gingo—  joll. 
Give me the Glass,  William 
I'll venture once more what ere come on't, here's a Health to the Royal Traveller, and so Finis Coronat.  Wor. 
Come on Boys, Vivat; have at you again then.  
Now a Pox on the Poll, of old Politic Noll.  Both. 
we'll drink till we bring,  
In Triumph back the King.  Wor. 
May he Live till he see,  
Old Noll upon a Tree.  Wor. 
And many such as he.  Both. 
May he Live till, etc.  joll. 
I'm very Sick again;  William 
help me into my Bed; rest you merry, Gentlemen.  Cut. 
Nay, we'll go in with him, Captain, he shall not die this bout.  Wor. 
It's pity but he should, he dost so bravely; come along then, kiss me, Cutter; is not this better than quarrelling?  Both. 
May he live till he see, etc.  
hay for Fiddlers now! Exeunt.    

Act 3.  

Scene 1.  jolly, Aurelia. joll. 
'TIs true, Aurelia, the Story they all agree in; 'twas nothing but a simple Plot o' the two Lovers to put me in fear o' death, in hope to work then upon my good Nature, or my Conscience, and Quack conspired with them out o' revenge; 'Twas a cursed Rogue though to give me such an unmerciful Dose of Scammony! It might ha' proved but an ill jest; but however, I will not be a loser by the business, ere I ha' done with't.  Aur. 
Methinks there might be something extracted out of it.  joll. 
Why so there shall; I'll pretend, Aurelia, to be still desperately sick, and that I was really poisoned, no man will blame me after that, for whatsoever I do with my Niece. But that's not all, I will be mightily troubled in Conscience, send for the Widow, and be converted by her, that will win her heart, joined with the hopes of my swallowing Lucia's portion.  Aur. 
For that point I'll assist you, Sir, Assure her that my Cousin Lucia is married privately this afternoon to Mr. Puny.  joll. 
I would she were, Wench, (for thine and my sake) her Portion would be forfeited then indeed, and she would ha' no great need of't, for that Fop's very rich.  Aur. 
Well, Sir, I'll bring sufficient proofs of that, to satisfy the Widow, and that's all you require; be pleased to let the secret of the business rest with me yet a while, to morrow you shall know't. But for my own part, Sir, if I were in your place, I'd rather patiently lose my Estate for ever, than take't again with her.  joll. 
Oh! hold yourself contented, good frank-hearted Aurelia; would I were to marry such a one every week these two years: see how we differ now?  Aur. 
Bless us! what humming and hawing will be i' this house! what preaching, and howling, and fasting, and eating among the Saints! Their first pious work will be to banish Fletcher and Ben johnson out o'the Parlour, and bring in their rooms Martin Mar-Prelate, and Posies of Holy Honeysuckles, and a Sawf-box for a Wounded Conscience, and a Bundle of Grapes from Canaan. I can't abide 'em; but I'll break my sister Tabitha's heart within a month one way or other. But, Sir, suppose the King should come in again, (as I hope he will for all these Villains) and you have your own again o' course, you'd be very proud of a Soap-boilers Widow then in Hyde-park, Sir.  joll. 
Oh! than the Bishops will come in too, and she'll away to New-England; well, this does not do my business; I'll about it, and send for her. Exit.  Enter Ralph. Aur. 
And I'll about mine; Ralph, did you speak to Mr. Puny to meet me an hour hence at the backdoor in the Garden? he must not know the estate the house is in yet.  Ralph. 
Yes, forsooth, he bade me tell you, he'd no more fail you than the Sun fails Barnaby-day, I know not what he means by't, but he charged me to tell you so, and he would bring (forsooth) his Regiment of five hundred. He's a mad man, I think.  Aurel. 
Well, did you speak to Mr. Soaker to stay within too, the little Deacon that uses to drink with Will and you?  Ral. 
Yes, forsooth, he's in the Buttery.  Aur. 
Pray Heaven he don't forget my Instructions there! But first I have a little trick for my Lovers to begin withal, they shall ha' twenty more before I ha' done with 'em. Exit:   

Scene 2.  Enter Truman junior. Trum. 
The Veil of this mistake will soon be cast away, I would I could remove Lucia's as easily, and see her face again, as fair, as shortly our Innocence will appear.  
But if my angry father come to know our late Intelligence in this unlucky business, though we ha' fulfilled the Letter of his Will, that which can satisfy a Lover's Conscience, will hardly do so to an old man's Passion; Ye Heavenly Powers, or take away my life, or give me quickly that for which I only am content to keep it.   

Scene 3.  Enter Aurelia, (veiled.) 
Ha! I did but speak just now of Heavenly powers,  
And my blessed Angel enters, sure they have  
Heard me, and promise what I prayed for.  
My dear Lucia, I thought you'd been a kind of prisoner too.  She gives him a Paper and embraces him. 
She's kinder too than she was wont to be;  
My prayers are heard and granted, I'm confirmed in't.  
By my Maid's means I have gotten Keys both of my Reads. own Chamber and yours; we may escape if you please; but that I fear would ruin you; We lie both now in the same house, a good fortune that is not like to continue; since I have the engagement of your faith, I account myself your Wife already, and shall put my honour into your hands; about Midnight I shall steal to you; If I were to speak this I should blush, but I know whom I trust.  
Yours, Lucia.  Trum. 
Thou dost not know me, Lucia, aside.  
And hast forgot thyself: I am amazed.  
Stay, here's a Postscript.  
(Burn this Paper as soon as you have read it.)  
Burn it? yes, would I had done't before, Burns it at the Candle.  
May all remembrance of thee perish with thee,  
Unhappy paper!  
Thy very ashes sure will not be innocent,  
But fly about and hurt some chaste man's eyes,  
As they do mine. weeps.  
Oh, Lucia, this I thought of all misfortunes  
Would never have befallen me, to see thee  
Forget the ways of Virtue and of Honor.  
I little thought to see upon our love,  
That flourished with so sweet and fresh a Beauty,  
The slimy traces of that Serpent, Lust.  
What Devil has poisoned her? I know not what to say to her.  
Go, Lucia, retire, prithee, to thy Chamber,  
And call thy wandering Virtue home again,  
It is not yet far gone, but call it quickly,  
'Tis in a dangerous way; I will forget thy error,  
And spend this night in prayers that Heaven may do so.  Exit Aur. 
Would she have had me been mine own Adulterer?  
Before my Marriage?— Oh lust— Oh frailty—  
Where in all human nature shall we miss  
The ulcerous fermentations of thy heat,  
When thus (alas) we find thee breaking out  
Upon the comli'st Visage of perfection? Exit.   

Scene 4.  Aurelia. Aur. 
Pray Heaven, I han't made my foolish Wit stay for me; if he talk with others of the house before me, I'm undone. Stay, have I my Paper ready? Oh! that's Pulls out a Paeper. well! my Hand I'm sure's as like hers as the Left is to the Right, we were taught by the same Master, pure Italian, there's her A's and her Gs I'll swear— Oh! are you come? that's well.   

Scene 5.  Enter Puny. 
'Tis almost four o' clock and that's the precious hour.  Pun. 
My little Heliogabalus, here I am, Praesto!  Aur. 
You're always calling me names, Mr. Puny, that's unkindly done to one that's labouring for you, as I am.  Pun. 
I ha' made more haste hither than a Parson does to a Living o' three hundred and fifty pounds a year.  Aur. 
Puny, you're not a man o' business I see, that's not the style o' business; Well, I ha' done, I think, the work for you, 'tis as odd a Plot as ever you heard.  Pun. 
I like it better, I love odd things.  Aur. 
Why thus then, you know Mr. Truman took an Oath to his father never to see my Cousin more without his leave.  Pun. 
Pish, do I know that a Lawyer loves to take money in Michaelmas Term?  Aur. 
A pies upon you: well, my father has made Lucy swear too never to see Truman without his consent.  Pun. 
Good, there will be a good Bopeep love.  Aur. 
For all this, thy'r resolved to marry this afternoon, (nay don't interrupt me with your Fopperies, or I'll be gone) and to save their Oaths (like cunning Caluists, as all Lovers are) they'll be married in a dark room (do you mark me?) the Minister, Mr. Soaker, is to marry them without Book; and because they're bound not to speak to one another (for that I forgot to tell you) they're to signify their consent, when he asks 'em, Will you such a one— by reverences, and giving their hands; you never heard of such a humour, but their both mad—  Pun. 
Ha! ha! ha! Rare, as Fantastical as a Whirl-gig— but how come you to know all this, my little pretty Witch of Lancashire?  Aur. 
Why that I'm coming to; her Maid you must know is my Pensioner, and betrays all Counsels; And to confirm all this to you, here's her last Letter to Truman about the business, which my Intelligencer has Delivered to me instead of him, you know her hand, Read it all over to yourself.  Pun. 
I'll swear by her Foot, this is her Hand,— hum— my Uncle's sick, and no Body will be at this [Reads.] side o' the House,— the matted Chamber— hum— In at the Back door which shall be left only put to— (ha, ha, ha!) Mr. Soaker with you— just at four— you must not stay long with me— (ha, ha, ha!) when 'tis done and passed recovery they'll release us of our Oaths— hum— I shall not fail— yours L. (ha, ha, ha.)  Aur. 
Now he knows nothing o' the time, for that he should ha' known by this Letter; and you conceive my design, I hope? you're not a Wit for nothing.  Pun. 
My dear Pythagorean, that I should go in and Marry her instead of him?  Aur. 
Right! thou'st a shrewd reach.  Pun. 
But where's old Soaker all this while?  Aur. 
Why, I ha' told all this to him, only naming you in all things instead of Truman; and that 'twas my Contrivance all for my Cousins and your Sake; he's within at a Call, I'll send for him; whose there? Marry? call hither Mr. Soaker; I ha' given him five Pounds, and for so much more he'll Marry you to another to morrow, if you will.  Pun. 
I adore thee Queen Solomon; I had rather be Married by such a Plot as this, than be Nephew to Prester john— I'll make't a thousand Spankers.  Enter Mr. Soaker. Aur. 
Oh come 'tis time Mr. Soaker; as soon as you ha' done leave the Married couple together, I'll lock this Door upon you, go out at the tother, where she'll come in to you.  Pun. 
'Tis as dark as the Devil's conscience; but the best is, the Parson has a good Fieri Fancies, like a Holiday, that will give some Light.  Aur. 
No! there's Light enough to keep you from Stumbling within. Oh! I forgot to tell you, break a piece of Gold, and give her half, for a proof of the— do you understand me?  Pun. 
'Tis well thought on; but Domine Doctoribus, can you say the Service without Book are you sure?  Soaker. 
I warrant you Sir; can you Lie with her without Book afterwards?  Pun. 
he's a Wit too by juno; all are Wits that have a finger in this Venison pasty.  Aur. 
she'll come, immediately, go in; do not stay above half an hour, Mr. Puny, my Cousin will be missed else, and all spoiled.  Pun. 
I'll warrant you, let's in; dear Learning lead the way. They go in, and Aurelia locks the Door o' the outside.  Aur. 
So, all's sure this way; I'll be with you straight.  Exit.  

Scene 6.  Enter Jolly, Cutter. joll. 
So, now the widow's gone, I may breathe a little; I believe really that true Devotion is a great Pleasure, but 'tis a damned constraint and drudgery methinks, this Dissimulation of it. I wonder how the new Saints can endure it, to be always at the work, Day and Night Acting; But great Gain makes every thing seem easy; And they have, I suppose, good Lusty Recreations in private. She's gone, the Little Holy thing, as proud as Lucifer, with the Imagination of having been the Chosen Instrument of my Conversion from Popery, Prelacy, and Cavalerism, she's gone to brag of't to joseph Knock-down, and bring him to Confirm me. But Cutter, thine was the best Humour that ever was begot in a Rogue's Noddle, to be Converted in an instant, the Inspiration way, by my example! It may hap to get thee Tabytha.  Cut. 
Nay, and I hit just pat upon her way, for though the Mother be a kind of Brownist, (I know not what the Devil she is indeed) yet Tabytha is o' the Fifth Monarchy Faith, and was wont to go every Sunday afoot over the Bridge to hear Mr. Feak, when he was Prisoner in Lambeth house, she has had a Vision too herself of Horns, and strange things.  joll. 
Pish! Cutter, for the way that's not material, so there be but enough of Nonsense and Hypocrisy; But Cutter, you must reform your Habit too, a little; Off with that Sword and Buff and greasy Plume o' Ribbons in your Hat. They'll be back here presently, do't quickly.  Cut. 
I'll be changed in an instant, like a Scene, and then I'll fetch 'em to you. Exit.   

Scene 7.  Enter Truman Senior. Sen. Trum. 
ay, there goes one of his Swaggerers; I could ha' Swaggered with him once— Oh! Colonel, you're finely Poisoned, are you not? would I had the Poisoning o' you— where's my Son Dick? what ha' you done with him?  joll. 
Mr. Truman.—  Trum. 
True me no more than I true you— come— Colonel you're but a Swaggering— I'll ha' the Law to Swagger with you, that I will.  joll. 
First leave your Raging; though you should rage like Tamerlain at the Bull, 'twould do no good here.  Trum. 
Do you call me names too? I'll have an Action o' Scandalum. Well Colonel, since you provoke me, the Protector shall know what you are, and what you would have had me done for the King in the time of the last rising.  joll. 
Mr. Truman, I took you for a Person of Honour, and a Friend to his Majesty; I little thought to hear you speak of betraying a Gentleman to the Protector.  Trum. s. 
Betraying? no Sir, I scorn it as much as you, but I'll let him know what you are, and so forth, an' you keep my Son from me.  joll. 
Mr. Truman, if you'll but hear me patiently, I shall propose a thing that will, I hope, be good and acceptable both to your Son and you.  Trum. 
Say you so Sir? well; but I won't be called Tamerlain.  joll. 
My Niece, not only by her wicked design to Poison me, but by Marrying herself without my consent this day to Puny, has (as you know very well, for you were a witness Sir to my Brother's will) lost all the right she had to a plentiful Portion. Aurelia shall have that and my Estate, (which now within few days I shall recover) after my Death; she's not I think Unhandsome, and all that know her will confess she wants no Wit; with these Qualities, and this Fortune, if your Son like her, (for though h'as injured me, Sir, I forget that, and attribute it only to the Enchantments of my Niece) I do so well approve both of his Birth and Parts, and of that Fortune, which you I think will please to make him, that I should be extremely glad of the Alliance.  Trum. s. 
Good Colonel, you were always a kind Neighbour and loving Friend to our Family, and so were we to you, and had respects for you; you know I would have had Dick marry your Niece, till you declared he should ha' no Portion with her.  joll. 
For that I had a particular reason, Sir; your Son's above in my House, shall I call him, Sir, that we may know his mind? I would not have him forced.  Trum. s. 
Pray send for him good Colonel; forced? no, I'll make him do't, I'll warrant you. Boys must not be their own choosers, Colonel, they must not i'faith, they have their Sympathies and Fiddle-come-saddles in their Brain, and know not what they would ha' themselves.   

Scene 8.  Enter Lucia. joll. 
Why how now Lucia? how come you from your Chamber?  Luc. 
I hope you did not mean me a Prisoner, Sir, since now you're satisfied sufficiently that you're not Poisoned?  joll. 
I am not Dead, that's true. But I may thank Heaven, and a strong Constitution for't; you did your weak endeavours; however, for the honour of our Family, and for your Father's sake, I'll speak no more o' that, but I could wish, for the security of my Life hereafter, that you would go home to your Husband, for they say you're married Niece this day without my knowledge— Nay,— I'm content,— go home to him when you please, you shall ha' your thousand Pounds.  Trum. s. 
Hark you, Colonel, she should not have a groat of e'em, not a groat; she can't recover't by Law, I know the Will.  Luc. 
I married Sir? 'tis the first news I've heard of't.   

Scene 9  Enter Trum. Jun. Lucia goes to put on her Veil. joll. 
Nay, leave your pretty Jesuitical Love-tricks to salve an Oath; Mr. Truman, you may let your Son see her now.  Trum. s. 
I Dick you may see her as much as you please; she's married.  Trum. i. 
Married?  Trum. s. 
I married, so I say, Married this afternoon to Mr. Puny.  Luc. 
What do they mean?  Trum. s. 
And Dick I ha' got a Wife too for you, you shall ha' pretty Mrs. Aurelia.  Trum. i. 
Lucia married?  Trum. s. 
Her Father and I are agreed of all things; Hark you Dick, she has a brave Fortune now.  Trum. i. 
Married to Puny?  Trum. s. 
You shall have her presently.  Trum. i. 
This afternoon?  Trum. s. 
Come Dick; there's a Wife for you Dick.  Trum. i. 
I won't marry, Sir.  Trum. s. 
What do you say Sir?  Trum. i. 
I wi' not marry Sir.  Trum. s. 
Get you out o' my sight you Rebel.  joll. 
Nay, good Mr. Truman.  Trum. s. 
I'll ne'er acknowledge him for my Son again; I tell you Colonel, he's always thus with his wo'nots and his Cannots.   

Scene 10.  Enter Puny. Pun. 
We ha' made short work on't; 'twas a brave quick Parsonides; The little Skittish Philly got away from me I know not how, like an Eel out of a Basket.  joll. 
Give him a little time Mr. Truman, he's troubled yet at my Niece's marriage, 'twill over quickly.  Tru. s. 
Give my Son time, Mr. jolly? marry come up—   

Scene 11.  Enter Aurelia, (after Puny.) Aur. 
What ha' you done already? you're a sweet Husband indeed.  Pun. 
Oh! my little Pimp of honour! here, here's the five hundred Marigolds; hold thy hand Dido— yonder's my Wife, by Satan; how a Devil did that little Mephistophilus get hither before me?  Aur. 
To her Puny; never conceal the mystery any longer, 'tis too good a Jest to be kept close.  Trum. s. 
For your sake I will then, Colonel; Come prithee, Dick, be cheerful.—  Trum. i. 
I beseech you,— Sir—  Trum. s. 
Look you there Colonel, now he should do what I would have him, now he's a beseeching— 'tis the proudest stubbornest Coxcomb—  Pun. 
And now my noble Uncle— nay, never to jolly. be angry at a Marriage i'the way of wit— My fair Egyptian Queen, come to thine Antony.  Luc. 
What would this rude fellow have?  Trum. i. 
I am drowned in wonder!  Pun. 
'Twas I, my dear Philoclea, that married thee e'en row in the dark room, like an amorous Cat; you may remember the Damask Bed by a better Token of Two than a bowed Philip and Mary.  Luc. 
I call Heaven to witness,  
Which will protect and justify the Innocent,  
I understand not the least word he utters,  
But as I took him always for a Fool,  
I now do for a Madman.  Aur. 
She's angry yet to have mistook her Man. 'Tis true, Sir, all that Mr. Puny says, I mean for to jolly the Marriage, for the rest, she's best able to answer for herself.  Luc. 
True, Cousin, than I see 'tis some conspiracy t'ensnare my Honour and my Innocence.  Aur. 
The Parson, Mr. Soaker, that married 'em is still within.  Will. 
He's i'th' Buttery, shall I call him, Sir?  joll. 
ay, quickly.  Trum. i. 
'Tis the sight of me, no doubt, confounds her with a shame to confess any thing; It seems that sudden fit of raging lust, that brought her to my Chamber, could not rest till it was satisfied, it seems I know not what.  Enter Mr. Soaker. joll. 
Mr. Soaker, did you marry my Niece this afternoon to Mr. Puny in the Matted Chamber?  Soak. 
Yes, Sir, I hope your Worship won't be angry, Marriage, your Worship knows, is honourable.  Luc. 
Hast thou no conscience neither?   

Scene 12.  Enter Widow, Tabytha, Cutter in a Puritanical habit. joll. 
Niece, go in a little, I'll come t' you presently and examine this matter further; Mr. Puny, lead in your wife for shame.  Luc. 
Villain, come not near me,  
I'll sooner touch a Scorpion or a Viper. Exit.  Pun. 
She's as humorous as a Bel-rope; she need not be so choleric, I'm sure I behaved myself like Propria quae maribus.  Aur. 
Come in with me, Mr. Puny, I'll teach you how you shall handle her. Exeunt Aur. Pun.  joll. 
Mr. Truman, pray take your son home, and see how you can work upon him there; speak fairly to him.  Trum. s. 
Speak fairly to my son? I'll see him buried first.  joll. 
I mean persuade him—  Trum. s. 
Oh! that's another matter; I will persuade him, Colonel, but if ever I speak fair to him till he mends his manners— Come along with me, Jack-sawce, come home. Exeunt Trum. sen. Trum. jun.  Trum. i. 
I Sir, any whither.  Wid. 
What's the matter, brother Colonel, are there any broils here?  joll. 
Why, Sister, my Niece has married without my consent, and so it pleases, it e'en pleases Heaven to bestow her Estate upon me.  Wid. 
Why, brother, there's a Blessing now already; If you had been a wicked Cavalier still she'd ha' done her duty, I warrant you, and defrauded you of the whole Estate; my brother Cutter here is grown the Heavenliest man o'the sudden, 'tis his work.  Cut. 
Sister Barebottle, I must not be called Cutter any more, that is a name of Cavalero darkness, the Devil was a Cutter from the beginning, my name is now Abednego, I had a Vision which whispered to me through a Keyhole, Go call thyself Abednego.  Tab. 
The wonderful Vocation of some Vessels!  Cut. 
It is a name that signifies Fiery Furnaces, and Tribulation, and Martyrdom, I know I am to suffer for the Truth.  Tab. 
Not as to death, Brother, if it be his will.  Cut. 
As to death, Sister, but I shall gloriously return.  joll. 
What, Brother, after death? that were miraculous.  Cut. 
Why the wonder of it is, that it is to be miraculous.  joll. 
But Miracles are ceased, Brother, in this wicked Age of Cavalerism.  Cut. 
They are not ceased, Brother, nor shall they cease till the Monarchy be established.  
I say again I am to return, and to return upon a Purple Dromedary, which signifies Magistracy, with an Axe in my hand that is called Reformation, and I am to strike with that Axe upon the Gate of Westminster-hall, and cry, Down Babylon, and the Building called Westminster-hall is to run away and cast itself into the River, and then Major General Harrison is to come in Green sleeves from the North upon a Sky-coloured Mule, which signifies heavenly Instruction.  Tab. 
Oh the Father! he's as full of Mysteries as an Egg is full of meat.  Cut. 
And he is to have a Trumpet in his mouth as big as a Steeple, and at the sounding of that Trumpet all the Churches in London are to fall down.  Wid. 
O strange, what times shall we see here in poor England!  Cut. 
And then Venner shall march up to us from the West in the figure of a Wave of the Sea, holding in his hand a Ship that shall be called the Ark of the Reformed.  joll. 
But when must this be, Brother Abednego?  Cut. 
Why all these things are to be when the Cat of the North has overcome the Lion of the South, and when the Mouse of the West has slain the Elephant of the East. I do hear a silent Voice within me, that bids me rise up presently and declare these things to the Congregation of the Lovely in Coleman-street. Tabytha, Tabytha, Tabytha, I call thee thrice, come along with me, Tabytha.  Exit. Tab. 
There was something of this, as I remember, in my last Vision of Horns the other day. Holy man! I follow thee; farewell, forsooth, Mother, till anon.  joll. 
Come, let's go in too, Sister. Exeunt.    

Act 4.  

Scene 1.  Truman junior. 
WHat shall I think henceforth of Womankind?  
When I know Lucia was the best of it,  
And see her what she is? What are they made of?  
Their Love, their Faith, their Souls enslaved to passion!  
Nothing at their Command beside their Tears,  
And we, vain men, whom such Heat-drops deceive!  
Hereafter I will set myself at Liberty,  
And if I sigh or grieve, it shall not be  
For Love of One, but Pity of all the Sex.   

Scene 2.  Enter Lucia. 
Ha! she will not let me see her sure;  
If ever, Lucia, a Veil befitted thee,  
'Tis now, that thou mayst hide thy guilty blushes.  Luc. 
If all their malice yet  
Have not prevailed on Truman's Constancy,  
They'll miss their wicked end, and I shall live still.  
I'll go and speak to him.  Trum. 
Forbear, Lucia, for I have made a second Oath, which I shall keep, I hope, with lesser trouble, never to see thy face more.  Luc. 
You were wont, Sir,  
To say, you could not live without the sight of't.  Trum. 
I; 'twas a good one then.  Luc. 
Has one day spoiled it?  Trum. 
O yes, more than a hundred years of time, made as much more by sorrow, and by sickness, could e'er have done.  Luc. 
Pray hear me, Truman:  
For never innocent Maid was wronged as I am;  
Believe what I shall say to you, and confirm  
By all the holiest Vows that can bind Souls.  Trum. 
I have believed those Female tricks too long;  
I know thou canst speak winningly, but thy Words  
Are not what Nature meant them, thy Minds Picture;  
I'll believe now what represents it better,  
Thine own Hand, and the proof of mine own Eyes.  Luc. 
I know not what you mean; believe my Tears.  Trum. 
They're idle empty Bubbles.  
Raised by the Agitation of thy Passions,  
And hollow as thy heart; there is no weight in 'em.  
Go thou once, Lucia; Farewell,  
Thou that were't dearer to me once, than all  
The outward things of all the World beside,  
Or my own Soul within me, farewell for ever;  
Go to thine Husband, and love him better than  
Thou didst thy Lover.  
I ne'er will see the more, nor shall, I fear,  
Ere see myself again.  Luc. 
Here me but once. kneels.  Trum. 
No, 'tis enough; Heaven hear thee when thou kneel'st to it. Exit.  Luc. 
Will he? he's gone; now all the world has left me, rises.  
And I am desolately miserable;  
'Tis done unkindly, most unkindly, Truman.  
Had a blessed Angel come to me and said  
That thou wert false, I should have sworn it lied,  
And thought that rather fallen than thee.  
Go, dear, false man, go seek out a new Mistress;  
But when you ha' talked, and loved, and vowed, and sworn  
A little while, take heed of using her  
As you do me; no, may your love to her  
Be such as mine to you, which all thy injuries  
Shall never change, nor death itself abolish.  
May she be worthier of your bed than I,  
And when the happy course of many years  
Shall make you appear old to all but her,  
May you in the fair Glass of your fresh Issue  
See your own youth again; but I would have 'em  
True in their Loves, and kill no innocent Maids;  
For me it is no matter; when I'm dead,  
My busy soul shall flutter still about him,  
'Twill not be else in Heaven; it shall watch  
Over his sleeps, and drive away all dreams  
That come not with a soft and downy wing;  
If any dangers threaten, it shall because  
And call his spirit away, till they be passed,  
And be more diligent than his Guardian Angel;  
And when just Heaven, as I'm assured it will,  
Shall clear my Honour and my Innocence,  
He'll sigh, I know, and pity my misfortunes,  
And blame himself, and curse my false Accusers,  
And weep upon my Grave  
For my wronged Virtue, and mistaken Truth,  
And unjust Death, I ask no more. Exit.   

Scene 3.  Enter Truman junior. 
'Twas barbarously done to leave her so;  
Kneeling and weeping to me; 'twas inhuman;  
I'll back and take my leave more civilly,  
So as befits one who was once her Worshipper. Goes over the Stage, and comes back.  
She's gone; why let her go; I feel her still;  
I feel the root of her, labouring within  
To sprout afresh, but I will pluck it up,  
Or tear my heart with 't.   

Scene 4.  Enter Jolly, Truman Senior. joll. 
He's there, Sir, pray let him now resolve you positively what he means to do.  Trum. s. 
What he means to do, Colonel? that were fine  
I'faith; if he be my son he shall mean nothing;  
Boys must not have their meanings, Colonel:  
Let him mean what I mean with a Wennion.  Trum. i. 
I shall be pressed, I see, by 'em, upon the hateful Subject of a Marriage;  
And to fill up the measure of Affliction,  
Now I have lost that which I loved, compelled  
To take that which I hate.  Trum. s. 
I will not be troubled, Colonel, with his meanings, if he do not marry her this very evening (for I'll ha' none of his Flim-flams and his May-be's) I'll send for my son Tom from St. John's College (he's a pretty Scholar I can tell you, Colonel, I have heard him syllogise it with Mr. Soaker in Mood and Figure) and settle my Estate upon him with her; if he have his Meanings too▪ and his Sympathies, I'll disinherit 'em both, and marry the Maid myself, if she can like me, I have one Tooth yet left, Colonel, and that's a Colt's one.  Trum. i. 
Did I submit to lose the sight of Lucia  
Only to save my unfortunate Inheritance,  
And can there be imposed a harder Article  
For me to boggle at?  
Would I had been born some wretched Peasant's son,  
And never known what Love or Riches were.  
Ha— I'll marry her— why should I not? if I  
Must marry some body,  
And hold my Estate by such a slavish Tenure,  
Why not her as well as any else?  
All Women are alike I see by Lucia,  
'Tis but resolving to be miserable,  
And that is resolved for me by my Destiny.  joll. 
Well, try him pray, but do it kindly, Sir,  
And artificially.  Trum. s. 
I warrant you; Dick, I'll ha' you marry Mrs. Aurelia to night.  Trum. i. 
To night? the warning's short, Sir, and it may be—  Trum. s. 
Why look you, Colonel, he's at's old look, he's at's May-bees again.  Trum. i. 
I know not, Sir—  Trum. s. 
ay, and his Know-nots, you shall have him at his Wi' notes presently; Sirra— I will have you know, Sir—  joll. 
Nay, good Mr. Truman— you know not yet what answer he intends to make you.  Trum. i. 
Be pleased, Sir, to consider—  Trum. s. 
Look you, Sir, I must consider now, he upbraids his father with the want of consideration, like a Varlet as he is.  Trum. i. 
What shall I do? why should not I do any thing,  
Since all things are indifferent?  joll. 
I beseech you, Mr. Truman, have but a little patience— Your father, Sir, desires to know—  Trum. s. 
I do not desire him, Colonel, nor never will desire him, I command him upon the duty of a Child—  joll. 
Whether you can dispose yourself to love and marry my daughter Aurelia, and if you can, for several reasons we desire it may be presently consummated.  Trum. i. 
Out with it, stubborn Tongue;  
I shall obey my father, Sir, in all things.  Trum. s. 
Ha! what d' you say, Sir?  joll. 
This old testy Fool is angry, I think, to have no more occasion given him of being so.  Trum. i. 
I shall obey you, Sir.  joll. 
You speak, Sir, like a virtuous Gentleman, the same obedience and resignation, to a father's will, I found in my Aurelia, and where two such persons meet, the issue cannot choose but be successful.  Trum. s. 
Ah Dick, my son Dick, he was always the best natured Boy— he was like his father in that— he makes me weep with tenderness, like an old fool as I am— Thou shalt have all my Estate, Dick, I'll put myself to a pension rather than thou shalt want— go spruce up thyself a little presently, thou art not merry I'faith, Dick, prithee be merry, Dick, and fetch fine Mrs. Aurelia presently to the little Church behind the Colonel's Garden, Mr. Soaker shall be there immediately and wait for you at the Porch (we'll have it instantly, Colonel, done, lest the young fool should relapse) come, dear Dick, let's go cheerily on with the business.  Trum. i. 
What have I said? what am I doing? the best is, it is no matter what I say or do.  joll. 
I'll see Aurelia shall be ready, and all things on my part within this half hour.  Trum. s. 
Good, honest, noble Colonel, let me shake you by the hand. Come, dear Dick, we lose time. Exeunt.   

Scene 5. Enter Cutter, Tabytha, a Boy.  Cut. 
And the Vision told me, sister Tabytha, that this same day, the first of the seventh month, in the year of Grace 1658. and of Revelation, and Confusion of Carnal Monarchies the tenth, that we two, who are both holy Vessels, should by an holy Man be joined together in the holy Bond of sanctified Matrimony.  Tab: 
I brother Abednego, but our friends consents—  Cut. 
Heaven is our friend, and, Sister, Heaven puts this into our thoughts; it is, no doubt, for propagation of the great Mystery; there shall arise from our two bodies, a great Confounder of Gogmagog, who shall be called the Pestle of Antichrist, and his children shall inherit the Grapes of Canaan.  Tab. 
My mother will be angry, I'm afraid.  Cut. 
Your Mother will rejoice, the Vision says so, sister, the Vision says your Mother will rejoice; how will it rejoice her righteous heart to see you, Tabytha, riding behind me upon the Purple Dromedary? I would not for the world that you should do it, but that we are commanded from above; for to do things without the aforesaid Command is like unto the building of a Fire without the Bottom-cake.  Tab. 
I I, that it is, he knows.  Cut. 
Now to confirm to you the truth of this Vision, there is to meet us at a zealous shoemaker's habitation hard by here, by the command of a Vision too, our Brother Zephaniah Fat's, an Opener of Revelations to the Worthy in Mary White-chapel, and he is the chosen Vessel to join our hands.  Tab. 
I would my Mother knew't; but if that holy man come too by a Vision, I shall have grace, I hope, not to resist.  Cut. 
Sister, let me speak one word of Instruction to yonder Babe.  Tab. 
Oh how my bowels yern!  Cut. 
Sirrah, is my little Doctor already staying for me at Tom Underleather my shoemaker's house?  Boy. 
Yes, Sir, but he's in so strange a Habit, that Mr. Underleather's Boy Frank and I were ready to die with laughing at him.  Cut. 
Oh so much the better; go you little piece of a Rogue and get every thing ready against I come back. Exit Boy. Sister, that Babe you saw me speaking to is predestinated to Spiritual Mightiness, and is to be restorer of the Mystical Tribe of Gad—  Tab. 
Oh the Wondrous— but, Brother Abednego, will you not pronounce this Evening tie before the Congregation of the Spotless in Coleman-street?  Cut. 
The will of the latter Vision is to be fulfilled first, as a Preparatory Vision; let us not make the Messenger of Mystery, who is sent by a Vision so far as from Mary White-chapel for our sakes, to stay too long from his lawful Vocation of Basket-making. Come, Sister Tabytha.  Tab. 
Hei, ho! but I will not resist. Exeunt.   

Scene 6.  Enter Jolly, Puny, Worm. joll. 
Mr. Puny, since you threaten me, I tell you plainly I think my Niece has undone herself by marrying thee, for though thou hast a fair Estate at present, I'm heinously mistaken if thou be'st not cheated of it all within these three years by such Rabbit-suckers as these, that keep thee company, and like lying sons o' the Devil as they are, cry thee up for a Wit, when there's nothing so unlike, no not any of thy own Similitudes, thy odious Comparisons.  Pun. 
The Colonel's raging mad, like a Baker in the Suburbs, when his Oven's overheated.  Wor. 
Good, very good i'faith.  joll. 
ay, that was one of 'em; as for her Portion, I thought to ha' given her a thousand pounds, but—  Pun. 
O magnanimous Colonel! what a Portion for a Toothpick-maker's daughter!  Wor. 
Good, shoot him thick with similes like Hailshot.  joll. 
But now thou shalt not have a groat with her.  Pun. 
What not a poor old Harry-Groat that looks as thin as a Poet's Cloak? But however, my noble Mountain hearted Uncle, I ha' made her Maidenhead a Cracked Groat already, and if I ha' nothing more from her, she shall ha' nothing more from me; no, she shall foot Stokins in a Stall for me, or make children's Caps in a Garret fifteen stories high.  joll. 
For that matter (for though thou speak'st no sense I guess thy brutish meaning) the Law will allow her honourable Alimony out o' your Foolship's Fortune.  Pun. 
And the Law will allow me her Portion too, good Colonel Uncle, you're not too big to be brought into Westminster-hall; nay, Captain, his Niece uses me worse too, she will not let me touch the Nail of her little finger, and rails at me like a Flounder-mouthed Fishwoman with a face like Billingsgate.  joll. 
What flesh can support such an affected Widgen, who has not a design to cheat him of something as that Vermin has? well, I shall be able to Live now I hope as befits a Gentleman, and therefore I'll endure the company of Fops and Knaves no longer.  Wor. 
Come Colonel, let's go in, and dispute the difference conscientiously over a Bottle o' Sack.  joll. 
I keep no Tavern, Worm; or if I did, thy whole Estate would hardly reach to a Gill.  Wor. 
Colonel, thou art grown Unkind, and art Drunk this afternoon without me.  joll. 
Without thee, Buffoon? why I tell thee, thou shall never show that Odd, Pimping, Cheating face o' thine within my Doors again, I'll turn away any man o' mine that shall disparage himself to drink with such a fellow as thou art.  Wor. 
As I? why what am I? pray? Mighty Colonel!  joll. 
Thou art or hast been every thing that's ill, there is no Scandalous way of Living, no Vocation of the Devil, that thou hast not set up in at one time or other; Fortune has Whipped thee about through all her streets; Thou 'rt one that Lives like a Raven, by Providence and Rapine; now thou 'rt feeding upon that raw young fellow, and dost Devour and Kaw him; thou 'rt one that if thou shouldst by chance go to Bed sober, wouldst write it down in thy Almanac, for an Unlucky day; sleep is not the Image of Death to thee, unless thou be'st Dead drunk; Thou art— I know not what— thou'rt any thing, and shall be to me hereafter nothing.  Pun. 
This Colonel pisses Vinegar to day.  Wor. 
This is uncivil Language Colonel to an old Comrade, and one of your own party.  joll. 
My Comrade? o' my party thou? or any but the party of the Pick-purses!  Pun. 
This bouncing Bear of a Colonel will break the back o' my little Whelp of a Captain, unless I take him off; come away Captain, I'll firk his back with two Bum-baylies, till he spew up every Stiver of her Portion.  joll. 
Fare-ye-well, Gentlemen, come not near these Doors if you love your own Leather, I'll ha' my Scullions batter you with Bones and Turnips, and the Maids drown you with Piss-pots, if you do but approach the Windows; these are saucy Knaves indeed, to come to me for Pounds and Portions. Exit.  Wor. 
Poverty, the Pox, an ill Wife, and the Devil go with thee, Colonel.  Pun. 
I vexed him to the Gills, Worm, when I put that bitter Bob o' the Baker upon him.  Wor. 
I? is't e'en so? not come to your House? by jove I'll turn him out of it himself by a trick that I have.  Pun. 
Pish! thou talk'st as Ravingly as a Costermonger in a Fever.  Wor. 
I'll do't by jove.  Pun. 
How, prithee, Captain? what does thy Pericranium mean?  Wor. 
Why here I ha''t, by jove; I'm ravished with the fancy of it; let me see— let me see— his Brother went seven years ago to Guiny.—  Pun. 
ay, but the Merchants say he's Dead long since, and gone to the Blackamoors below.  Wor. 
The more Knaves they; he Lives, and I'm the man.  Pun. 
Ha! ha! ha! thou talk'st like a Sowced Hoggs-face.  Wor. 
I knew him very well, and am pretty like him, liker than any of your Similitudes, Puny; by long Conversation with him, and the Colonel, I know all passages betwixt 'em; and what his Humour and his Estate was, much better than he himself, when he was Alive; he was a Stranger thing than any Monster in Africa where he Traded.  Pun. 
How! prithee Captain? I love these Odd fantastical things as an Alderman loves Lobsters.  Wor. 
Why, you must know, he had quite lost his memory, totally, and yet thought himself an able man for business, and that he did himself all that was done by his man john, who went always along with him; like a Dog with a Blind man.  Pun. 
Ha! ha! ha! Sublimely fantastical  Wor. 
He carried a Scroll about him of Memorandums, even of his Daughters and his Brother's names, and where his House stood; for as I told you, he remembered nothing; and where his Scroll failed, john was his remembrancer, we were wont to call him Remembrancer john.  Pun. 
Ha, ha, ha! Rarely exotique! I'll Act that apple john, never was such a john as I; not john o' Gant, or john o' noke's, I will turn Remembrancer john, as round as a Wedding Ring, ha, ha, ha!  Wor. 
Well said! but you must lay aside conceits for a while, and remote fancies. I'll teach you his humour instantly; now will I and my man john swarthy our faces over as if that Country's heat had made 'em so, (which will Disguise us sufficiently) and attire ourselves in some strange Habits o' those Parts, (I know not how yet, but we shall see it in Speed's Maps) and come and take Possession of our House and Estate.  Pun. 
Dear Ovid, let's about thy Metamorphosis.  Wor. 
'Twill be discovered perhaps at last, but however, for the present 'twill break off his match with the Widow, (which makes him so Proud now) and therefore it must be done in the twinkling of an Eye, for they say he's to marry her this Night; if all fail, 'twill be at least a merry 'bout for an hour, and a mask to the Wedding.  Pun. 
Quick, dear Rogue! quick as Precipitation.  Wor. 
I know where we can ha' clothes, hard by here; give me ten Pounds to hire 'em, and come away, but of all things, man john, take heed of being witty.  Pun. 
ay, that's the Devil on't; well, go; I'll follow you behind like a long Rapier. Exeunt.   

Scene 7.  Aurelia. Aur. 
If they would allow me but a little time, I could play such a trick with Mr. Truman, as should smart sorely for the rest of his Life, and be revenged abundantly on my Cousin, for getting of him from me, when I was such a foolish Girl three year ago as to be in Love with him.  
But they would have us married instantly, The Parson stays for us at Church. I know not what to do— all must out— Odds my life he's coming to fetch me here to Church already.   

Scene 8.  Enter Truman junior. Trum. i. 
I must go through with it now; I'll marry her,  
And live with her according to the forms,  
But I will never touch her as a Woman.  
She stays for me— Madam—  Aur. 
Sir.  Trum. i. 
I cannot out with it— Madam.  Aur. 
Sir—  Trum. i. 
Must we go marry, Madam?  Aur. 
Our friends will have it so, it seems.  Trum. 
Why will you marry me? what is there in me  
That can deserve your liking? I shall be  
The most untoward and ill-favoured Husband  
That ever took a melting Maid t' his Bed;  
The faculties of my Soul are all untuned,  
And every Glory of my Springing youth  
Is fallen into a strange and sudden Winter,  
You cannot Love me sure.  Aur. 
Not to Distraction, Sir.  Trum. 
No, nor I you; why should we marry then?  
It were a folly, were it not, Aurelia?  Aur. 
Why they say, 'tis the best marriage, when like is Joined to like; now we shall make a very even match, for neither you Love me, nor I Love you, and 'tis to be hoped we may get Children that will Love neither of us.  Trum. 
Nay, by my soul I love you, but alas,  
Not in that way that Husbands should their Wives;  
I cannot Toy, nor Kiss, nor do I know not what,  
And yet I was a Lover, as true a Lover—  Aur. 
Alack a day!  Trum. 
'Twas then, (methoughts) the only happiness  
To sit and talk, and look upon my Mistress,  
Or if she was not by, to think upon her;  
Then every Morning, next to my Devotion,  
Nay often too (forgive me Heaven) before it,  
She slipped into my fancy, and I took it  
As a good Omen for the following day;  
It was a pretty foolish kind of Life,  
An honest, harmless Vanity; but now  
The fairest Face moves me no more, than Snow  
Or Lilies when I see 'em, and pass by;  
And I as soon should deeply fall in Love  
With the fresh Scarlet of an Eastern Cloud,  
As the Red Lips and Cheeks of any Woman;  
I do confess, Aurelia, thou art Fair,  
And very Witty, and (I think) Well-natured,  
But thou'rt a Woman still.  Aur. 
The sight of you Sir,  
Makes me not repent at all my being so.  Trum. 
And prithee now, Aurelia, tell me truly,  
Are any Women constant in their Vows?  
Can they continue a whole Month, a Week,  
And never change their faith? Oh! if they could,  
They would be excellent things; nay ne'er dissemble;  
Are not their Lust's unruly, and to them  
Such Tyrants as their Beauties are to us?  
Are their tears true, and solid when they weep?  Aur. 
Sure Mr. Truman you han't slept of late,  
If we should be married to Night, what would you do for Sleep?  Trum. 
Why? do not married people sleep o' Nights?  Aur. 
Yes! yes! alas good innocence.  Trum. 
They have a scurvy Life on't if they don't;  
But we'll not Live as other people do,  
we'll find out some new handsome way of Love,  
Some way of Love that few shall imitate,  
Yet all admire; for 'tis a sordid thing,  
That Lust should dare t' insinuate itself  
Into the Marriage-bed; we'll get no Children,  
The worst of Men and Women can do that;  
Besides too, if our Issue should be Female,  
They would all Learn to flatter and dissemble,  
They would deceive with Promises and Vows  
Some simple men, and then prove False and Kill 'em,  
Would they not do't, Aurelia?  Aur. 
ay, any thing Mr. Truman; but what shall we do Sir, when we are married, pray?  Trum. 
Why! we'll live very Lovingly together,  
Sometimes we'll sit and talk of excellent things,  
And laugh at all the Nonsense of the world;  
Sometimes we'll walk together,  
Sometimes we'll read, and sometimes eat, and sometimes sleep;  
And sometimes pray, and then at last, we'll die,  
And go to Heaven together; 'twill be rare!  Aur. 
We may do all this (methinks) and never marry for the matter.  Trum. 
'Tis true, we may so!  
But since our Parents are resolved upon it,  
In such a Circumstance let 'em have their humour.  
My father sent me in to Compliment,  
And keep a Prating here, and play the Fool;  
I cannot do't, what should I say, Aurelia?  
What do they use to say?  Aur. 
I believe you knew Sir, when you Wooed my Cozen.  Trum. 
ay, but those Days are past; they're go for ever,  
And nothing else, but Nights are to succeed 'em;  
Gone like the faith and truth of Women kind,  
And never to be seen again! O Lucia!  
Thou wast a wondrous Angel in those days of thy blessed state of Innocence.  
There was a Cheek! a Forehead! and an Eye!—  
Did you observe her Eye, Aurelia?  Aur. 
O yes Sir! there were very pretty Babies in't.  Trum. 
It was as glorious as the Eye of Heaven;  
Like the souls Eye it pierced through every thing;  
And than her Hands— her Hands of Liquid Ivory!  
Did she but touch her Lute (the pleasing'st Harmony than upon Earth when she herself was silent)  
The subtle motion of her Flying fingers  
Taught Music a New art, to take the Sight, as well as Ear.  Aur. 
ay, Sir, I! you'd best go look her out, and marry her, she has but one Husband yet.  Trum. 
Nay, prithee, good Aurelia be not angry,  
For I will never Love or See her more.  
I do not say she was more Fair than thou art,  
Yet if I did? No, but I won't say so!  
Only allow me this one short last remembrance of one I loved so long. And now I think on't, I'll beg a favour of you, you will Laugh at me I know, when you have heard it, but prithee grant it; 'tis that you would be Veiled, as Lucia was of late, for this one day; I would fain marry thee so; 'Tis an odd foolish fancy, I confess, But Love and Grief may be allowed sometimes A little Innocent folly.  Aur. 
Good! this Fool will help me I see to cheat himself;  
At a dead lift, a little hint will serve me.  
I'll do't for him to the Life.  Trum. 
Will you Aurelia?  Aur. 
That's but a small Compliance; you'll ha' power anon to Command me greater things.  Trum. 
We shall be married very privately;  
None but ourselves; and that's e'en best, Aurelia.  
Why do I stick here at a Fatal step  
That must be made? Aurelia, are you ready?  
The Minister stays for us.  Aur. 
I'll but go in and take my Veil, as you Command me Sir; Walk but a few turns in the Garden, in less than half an hour I'll come to you, ha, ha, ha! Exit.  Trum. 
I go, I am Condemned, and must Obey;  
The Executioner stays for me at Church.  Exit.   

Act 5.  

Scene 1.  Colonel Jolly, Will. joll. 
So, I have her at last, and honest joseph Knock-down married us, methinks, with convenient brevity; I have some hold now upon my Estate again (though she, I confess, be a clog upon it worse than a Mort-gage) that, my good Neighbour Barebottle left wholly to his wife; almost all the rest of the Incomes upon his seeking, go to his daughter Tabytha, whom Cutter has got by this time, and promises me to live like an honest Gentleman hereafter; now he may do so comfortably and merrily. She married me thus suddenly, like a good Housewife, purely to save charges; however though, we'll have a good Supper for her, and her eating Tribe; Will, is the Cook a doing according to my directions?  Will. 
Yes, Sir, he's very hard at his business; he's swearing and cursing in the Kitchen, that your Worship may hear him hither, he'll fright my new old Mistress out of the house.  joll. 
'Tis such an over-roasted coxcomb— bid him be sure to season well the Venison that came in luckily to day.  Will. 
Troth, Sir, I dare not speak to him now, unless I should put on your Worship's Armour that lies hid in the Barrel below; he'd like to ha' spitted me just now, like a Goose as I was, for telling him he looked like the Ox that's roasted whole in St. James' Fair. Who's there?  joll. 
See who's at door. I shall ha' some plundered Plate, I hope, to entertain my friends with, when we come to visit the Trunks with Iron hoops; who is't?  Will. 
Nay, Heaven knows, Sir; two Fiends, I think, to take away the Cook for swearing. They ha' thrust in after me.   

Scene 2.  Enter Worm and Puny disguised like the Merchant and John. Wor. 
They'll hardly know us at first in these foreign habits.  Pun. 
I Sir, and as the Sun has used us in those hot Countries.  Wor. 
Why, this is my old house here, john; ha, ha! little thought I to see my old house upon Tower-hill again. Where's my brother jolly?  joll. 
They call me Colonel jolly.  Wor. 
Ha! let me see, A burly man of a Looks on his Note. moderate stature— a beard a little greyish— ha! a quick Eye, and a Nose inclining to red—  Pun. 
Nay, 'tis my Master's Worship, Sir, would we were no more altered since our Travels.  Wor. 
It agrees very well— Save you good brother, you little thought to see me here again, though I dare say you wished it; stay, let me see, how many years, john, is't since we went from hence?  Pun. 
'Tis now seven years, Sir.  Wor. 
Seven? methinks I was here but yesterday, how the what deye-call-it-runs? how do you call it?  Pun. 
The Time, Sir.  Wor. 
ay, I, the time, john; what was I saying? I was telling you, brother, that I had quite forgot you; was I not telling him so, john?  joll. 
Faith we're both quits then; I'll swear I ha' forgot you; why you were dead five years ago.  Wor. 
Was I? I ha' quite forgot it; john, was I dead five years ago? my memory fails me very much of late.  Pun. 
We were worse than dead, Sir, we were taken by a barbarous Nation, and there made slaves; john, quoth he? I was poor john I'm sure; they kept us three whole years with nothing but Water and Acorns, till we looked like Wicker bottles.  Wor. 
What, Sirrah, did your Master look like? I'll teach you to say your Master looked like what de-ye-call'ums.  joll. 
Where did they take you prisoners?  Wor. 
Nay, ask john, he can tell you I warrant you; 'twas in— tell him, john, where it was.  Pun. 
In Guiny.  joll. 
By what Countrymen were you taken?  Wor. 
Why they were called— I ha' forgot what they call'em, 'twas an odd kind o' name, but john can tell you.  Pun. 
Who I, Sir? do you think I can remember all things?  Wor. 
'Tis i' my Book here I remember well. Name any Nation under the Sun.  Pun. 
I know the name, Sir, well enough; but I only tried my Master's memory, 'Twas the Tartarians.  Wor. 
ay, I, those were the men.  joll. 
How, john? why all the world man lies betwixt 'em, they live up in the North.  Pun. 
The North?  joll. 
I the very North, john.  Pun. 
That's true indeed, but these were another Nation of Tartarians that lived in the South, they came anciently from the others.  joll. 
How got you from 'em, john, at last?  Pun. 
Why faith, Sir, by a Lady's means, who, to tell you the truth, fell in love with me; my Master has it all in his Book, 'tis a brave story.  joll. 
In what Ship came you back?  Pun. 
A plague of't, that question will be our ruin.  Wor. 
What Ship? 'twas called a thing that swims, what d'ee you call't?  joll. 
The Mermaid?  Wor. 
No, no, let me see.  joll. 
The Triton?  Wor. 
No, no, a thing that in the water does— it swims in the water—  joll. 
What is't? the Dolphin?  Wor. 
No, no, I ha' quite forgot the name on't, but 'tis no matter, it swims—  joll. 
What say you, john?  Pun. 
ay, Sir, my Master knows well enough; you can't conceive the misery we endured, Sir.  joll. 
Well, Brother, I'll but ask you one question more, where did you leave your Will?  Pun. 
‛ Life, now he's posed again— we shall never carry't through.  Wor. 
I'll tell you presently, Brother— let me see, Reads in his Scroll. Memorandums about my Will; left to my Brother the whole charge of my Estate— hum— hum— five thousand pounds— hum— What did you ask me, brother?  joll. 
In what place you left your Will?  Wor. 
I that was it indeed—, that was the very thing you asked me; what a treacherous memory have I? my memory is so short—  joll. 
This is no Answer to my Question yet.  Wor. 
'Tis true indeed; what was your Question, brother?  joll. 
Where you left your Will?  Wor. 
Good Lord, that I should forget you asked me that! I had forgot it, i'faith law that I had, you'll pardon, I hope, my Infirmity, for I alas— alas— I ha' forgot what I was going to say to you, but I was saying something, that I was.  joll. 
Well, Gentlemen, I'm now in haste, walk but a while into the Parlour there, I'll come to you presently.  Wor. 
But where's my daughter—  Pun. 
Lucia, Sir?  Wor. 
ay, Lucia— put me in mind to ask for her (a plague o' your Tartarians.)  Pun. 
And o'your What dee-ye-call-'ems.  Wor. 
‛ Life, Tartarians!  Exeunt Worm, Puny. joll. 
If these be Rogues, (as Rogues they seem to be) I will so exercise my Rogues, the tyranny of a new Beadle over a Beggar shall be nothing to't; what think'st thou of 'em, Will?  Will. 
Faith, Sir, I know not— he's just my Master's Nose and Upper-lip; but if you think it be not he, Sir, I'll beat 'em worse than the Tartarians did.  joll. 
No, let's try 'em first— trick for trick— Thou were wont to be a precious Knave, and a great Actor too, a very Roscius; didst not thou play once the Clown in Musidorus?  Will. 
No, but I played the Bear, Sir.  joll. 
The Bear! why that's as good a Part; thou 'rt an Actor then I'll warrant thee, the Bears a well-penned Part, and you remember my Brother's humour, don't you? They have almost hit it.  Will. 
ay, Sir, I knew the shortness of his memory, he would always forget to pay me my Wages, till he was put in mind of't.  joll. 
Well said, I'll dress thee within, and all the Servants shall acknowledge thee, you conceive the Design— be confident, and thou cast not miss; but who shall do trusty john?  Will: 
Oh, Ralph the Butler, Sir, 's an excellent tried Actor, he played a King once; I ha' heard him speak a Play ex tempore in the Butteries.  joll. 
O excellent Ralph! incomparable Ralph against the world! Come away, William, I'll give you instructions within, it must be done in a moment. Exeunt.   

Scene 3.  Enter Aurelia, Jane. jane. 
Ha, ha, ha! this is the best Plot o' yours, dear Madam, to marry me to Mr. Truman in a Veil instead of yourself; I can't choose but laugh at the very conceit of't; 'twill make excellent sport: My Mistress will be so mad when she knows that I have got her Servant from her, ha, ha, ha!  Aur. 
Well, are you ready? Veil yourself all over, and never speak one word to him, what ever he says, (he'll ha' no mind to talk much) but give him your hand, and go along with him to Church; and when you come to, I take thee— mumble it over that he may ned distinguish the voice.  jane. 
Ha, ha, ha! I can't speak for laughing— dear honey Madam, let me but go in and put on a couple o' Patches; you can't imagine how much prettier I look with a Lozenge under the Left Eye, and a Half Moon o' this cheek; and then I'll but slip on the Silver-laced Shoes that you gave me, and be with him in a trice.  Aur. 
Don't stay, he's a fantastical fellow, if the whimsy take him he'll be gone. Exeunt.   

Scene 4.  Lucia. 
They say he's to pass instantly this way  
To lead his Bride to Church; ingrateful Man!  
I'll stand here to upbraid his guilty Conscience,  
And in that black attire in which he saw me  
When he spoke the last kind words to me;  
'Twill now befit my sorrows, and the Widowhood of my Love;  
He comes alone, what can that mean?   

Scene 5.  Enter Truman junior. Trum. 
Come, Madam, the Priest stays for us too long;  
I ask your pardon for my dull delay,  
And am ashamed of 't.  Luc. 
What does he mean? I'll go with him what e'er it mean.  Exeunt  

Scene 6.  Enter Cutter, Tabytha, Boy. Cut. 
Come to my bed, my dear, my dear, Sings.  
My dear come to my bed,  
For the pleasant pain, and the loss with gain  
Is the loss of a Maidenhead.  
For the pleasant, etc.  Tab. 
Is that a Psalm, Brother Husband, which you sing?  Cut. 
No, Sister Wife, a short Ejaculation only.  
Well said, Boy, bring in the things,— Boy brings a Hat and Feather, Sword and Belt, broad Laced Band, and Periwig.  Tab. 
What do you mean, Brother Abednego? you will not turn Cavalier, I hope, again, you will not open before Zion in the dress of Babylon?  Cut. 
What do these clothes befit Queen Tabitha's husband upon her day o' Nuptials? this Hat with a high black chimney for a crown, and a brim no broader than a Hatband? Shall I, who am to ride the Purple Dromedary, go dressed like Revelation Fat's the Basketmaker? Give me the Peruique, Boy; shall Empress Tabitha's husband go as if his head were scalded? or wear the Seam of a shirt here for a a Band? Shall I who am zealous even to slaying, walk in the streets without a Sword, and not dare to thrust men from the wall, if any shall presume to take't of Empress Tabytha? Are the Fiddlers coming, Boy?  Tab. 
Pish, I cannot abide these doings; are you mad? there come no profane Fiddlers here.  Cut. 
Be peaceable gentle Tabytha; they will not bring the Organs with them hither; I say be peaceable, and conform to Revelations; It was the Vision bade me do this; wilt thou resist the Vision?  Tab. 
An' these be your Visions? little did I think I wiss— O what shall I do? is this your Conversion? which of all the Prophets wore such a Map about their Ears, or such a Sheet about their Necks? Oh! my Mother! what shall I do? I'm undone.  Cut. 
What shalt thou do? why, thou shalt Dance, and Sing, and Drink, and be Merry; thou shalt go with thy Hair Curled, and thy Breasts Open; thou shalt wear fine black Stars upon thy Face, and Bobs in thy Ears bigger than bouncing Pears; Nay, if thou dost begin but to look rustily— I'll ha' thee Paint thyself, like the Whore o' Babylon.  Tab. 
Oh! that ever I was Born to see this day—  Cut. 
What, dost thou weep, Queen Dido? thou shalt ha' Sack to drive away thy Sorrows; bring in the Bottle, Boy, I'll be a Loving Husband, the Vision must be Obeyed; Sing Tabytha; Weep o'thy Wedding day? 'tis ominous; Come to my Bed my Dear, etc. Oh, art thou come Boy? fill a Brimmer, nay, fuller yet, yet a little fuller! Here Lady Spouse, here's to our sport at Night.  Tab. 
Drink it yourself, an you will; I'll not touch it, not I  Cut. 
By this hand thou shalt pledge me, seeing the Vision said so; Drink, or I'll take a Coach, and carry thee to the Opera immediately.  Tab. 
Oh Lord, I can't abide it— Drinks off.  Cut. 
Why, this will cheer thy Heart; Sack, and a Husband? both comfortable things; have at you again.  Tab. 
I'll pledge you no more, not I  Cut. 
Here take the Glass, and take it off— off every drop, or I'll swear a hundred Oaths in a breathing time.  Tab. 
Well! you're the strangest man— Drink.  Cut. 
Why, this is right; nay, off with't; so— but the Vision said, that if we left our Drink behind us we should be Hanged, as many other Honest men na'been, only by a little negligence in the like case; Here's to you Tabytha once again, we must fulfil the Vision to a Tittle.  Tab. 
What must I drink again? well! you are such another Brother— Husband.  Cut. 
Bravely done, Tabytha! now thou Obey'st the Vision, thou wilt ha' Revelations presently.  Tab. 
Oh! Lord! my Head's giddy— nay, Brother, Husband, the Boy's taking away the Bottle, and there's another Glass or two in it still.  Cut. 
O Villainous Boy! fill out you Bastard, and squeeze out the last drop.  Tab. 
I'll drink to you now, my Dear; 'tis not handsome for you to begin always— Come to my Bed my Drinks. Dear, and how waste? 'twas a pretty Song, methoughts.  Cut. 
O Divine Tabytha! here come the Fiddlers too, strike up ye Rogues.  Tab. 
What must we Dance too? is that the Fashion? I could ha' Danced the Coranto when I was a Girl, the Currantoes a curious Dance.  Cut. 
We'll outdance the Dancing disease; but Tabytha, there's one poor Health left still to be drunk with Music.  Tab. 
Let me begined; here Duck, here's to all that Drinks. Love us.  Cut. 
A Health, ye Eternal Scrapers, sound a Health; rarely done Tabytha, what think'st thou now o' thy Mother?  Tab. 
A fig for my Mother; I'll be a Mother myself shortly; Come Duckling, shall we go home?  Cut. 
Go home? the Bridegroom and his Spouse go home? no, we'll Dance home; afore us Squeakers, that way, and be Hanged you Sempiternal Rakers. O brave! Queen Tabytha! Excellent Empress Tabytha, on ye Rogues. Exeunt.   

Scene 7.  Enter Jolly, Worm, Puny. Wor. 
But where's my what dee ye call her, Brother?  joll. 
What Sir?  Wor. 
My Daughter— Lucia, a pretty fair Complexioned Reads. Girl, with a Black Eye, a Round Chin, a little Dimpled, and a Mole upon— I would fain see my Daughter— Brother.  joll. 
Why, you shall Sir presently, she's very well; what Noise is that? how now? what's the matter?  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Ho! my old Master! my old Masters come, he's Lighted just now at the door with his man john; he's asking for you, he longs to see you; my Master, my old Master.  joll. 
This fellows Mad.  Seru. 
If you won't believe me, go but in and see Sir; he's not so much altered, but you'll quickly know him, I knew him before he was Lighted, pray, go in Sir.  joll. 
Why, this is strange— there was indeed some weeks since a report at the Exchange that he was Alive still, which was brought by a Ship that came from Barbary; but that he should be Split in two after his Death, and Live again in both, is wonderful to me. I'll go see what's the matter.  Exeunt Jolly, Servant. Pun. 
I begin to shake like a Plum-tree Leaf.  Wor. 
'Tis a mere Plot o' the Devils to have us beaten, if he send him in just at this Nick.   

Scene 8.  Enter Ralph (as John) and two or three Servants. 1. Seru. 
Ah Rogue, art thou come at last?  2. Seru. 
Why, you'll not look upon your Old friends! give me your Golls, john.  Ral. 
Thank ye all heartily for your Love; thank you with all my Heart; my old Bed-fellow, Robin, and how does little Ginny do?  3. Seru. 
A murrain take you, you'll ne'er leave your Waggery.  Pun. 
A murrain take ye all, I shall be paid the Portion here with a witness.  Ral. 
And how does Ralph? good honest Ralph; there is not an honester Fellow in Christendom, though I say't myself, that should not say't.  2. Seru. 
Ha, ha, ha! Why Ralph the Rogue's well still; Come let's go to him into the Buttery, he'll be Overjoyed to see thee, and give us a Cup o' the best Stingo there.  Ral. 
Well said; Steel to the back still Robin; that was your word you know; my Masters coming in! go, go, I'll follow you.  1 Seru. 
Make haste, good john.  Ral. 
Here's a Company of as honest Fellow-servants; I'm glad, I'm come among 'em again.  Wor. 
And would I were got out from 'em, as honest as they are; that Robin has a thrashing hand.  Pun. 
john with a Pox to him! would I were hid like a Maggot in a Peascod.   

Scene 9  Enter Jolly, William. joll. 
Methinks you're not returned, but born to us anew.  Will. 
Thank you good Brother; truly we ha' passed through many dangers; my man john shall tell you all, I'm Old and Crazy.  Enter Servant. 4 Seru. 
Sir, the Widow (my Mistress I should say) is coming in here with Mr. Knock-down, and four or five more.  joll. 
O'ds my Life! this farce is neither of Doctrine nor Use to them! keep 'em here, john, till I come back.  Exit Jolly. Wor. 
I'm glad the Colonel's gone; now will I sneak away, as if I had stolen a Silver spoon.  William 
Who are those, john? by your leave Sir, would you speak with any body here?  Wor. 
The Colonel, Sir? but I'll take some other time to wait upon him, my occasions call me now.  William 
Pray stay, Sir, who did you say you would ha' spoken with?  Wor. 
The Colonel, Sir; but another time will serve; he has business now.  William 
Whom would he speak with, john? I forget still.  Ral. 
The Colonel, Sir.  William 
Colonel! what Colonel?  Wor. 
Your brother, I suppose he is Sir, but another time—  Will. 
'Tis true indeed; I had forgot, I faith, my Brother was a Colonel; I cry you mercy Sir, he'll be here presently. Ye seem to be foreigners by your habits Gentlemen.  Wor. 
No Sir, we are Englishmen.  Will. 
Englishmen? law you there now! would you ha' spoke with me, Sir?  Wor. 
No Sir, your Brother; but my business requires no haste, and therefore—  Will. 
You're not in haste, you say; pray Sir, sit down then, may I crave your name, Sir?  Wor. 
My name's not worth the knowing Sir—  Will. 
This Gentleman?  Wor. 
'Tis my man, Sir, his name's john.  Pun. 
I'll be john no more, not I, I'll be jackanapes first; No, my name's Timothy Sir.  Will. 
Mr. john Timothy, very well, Sir; ye seem to be Travellers.  Wor. 
We are just now as you see, arrived out of Africa, Sir, and therefore have some business that requires—  Will. 
Of Africa? law ye there now; what Country, pray?  Wor. 
Prester-Iohn's Country; fare you well, Sir, for the present, I must be excused.  Will. 
Marry God forbid; what come from Prester-Iohn, and we not Drink a Cup o' Sack together.  Wor. 
What shall I do? Friend, shall I trouble you to show me a private place? I'll wait upon you presently again, Sir.  Will. 
You'll stay here Master?—  Pun. 
I'll only make a little Maid's water Sir, and come back to you immediately.  Ral. 
The door's locked Sir, the Colonel has locked us in here— why do you shake Sir?  Pun. 
Nothing— only I have extreme list to make water.  
Here's the Colonel, I'll sneak behind the Hangings.   

Scene 10.  Enter Jolly, Widow. joll. 
We'll leave those Gentlemen within a while upon the point of Reprobation; but Sweet heart, I ha' two Brothers here, newly arrived, which you must be acquainted with.  Wid. 
Marry, Heaven fore-shield! not the Merchant I hope?  joll. 
No, brethren in Love, only— How d'ee you Brother?  Wor. 
I your Brother; what d'ye mean?  joll. 
Why, are not you my brother jolly, that was taken Prisoner by the Southern Tartars?  Wor. 
I Brother, I by Tartars?  joll. 
What an impudent Slave is this? Sirrah, Monster, didst thou not come with thy man john?  Wor. 
I my man john? here's no such person here; you see you're mistaken.  joll. 
Sirrah, I'll strike thee Dead.  Wor. 
Hold, hold, Sir, I do remember now I was the Merchant jolly, but when you asked me I had quite forgot it; alas, I'm very Crazy.  joll. 
That's not amiss; but since thou art not he, I must know who thou art.  Wor. 
Why, don't you know me? I'm Captain Worm, and Puny was my man john.  joll. 
Where's the fool, Puny? is he slipped away?  Pun. 
Yes, and no fool for't neither for ought I know yet.  Wor. 
Why, we hit upon this frolic, Colonel, only for a kind o' Mask (d'ye conceive me, Colonel?) to celebrate your Nuptials; Mr. Puny had a mind to reconcile himself with you in a merry way o' Drollery, and so had I too, though I hope you were not in earnest with me.  joll. 
Oh! is that all? well said Will, bravely done Will, I faith; I told thee, Will, what 'twas to have Acted a Bear; and Ralph was an excellent john too.  Wor. 
How's this? then I'm an Ass again; this damned Punies fearfulness spoiled all.  Pun. 
This cursed Coward Worm! I thought they were not the right ones.  joll. 
Here's something for you to drink; go look to Supper, this is your Cue or Exit. Ex. Will & Ralph.  Wid. 
What need you, Love, ha' given 'em any thing? in truth, Love, 〈◊〉 ' too lavish.  Wor. 
'Twas wittily put off o' me however.   

Scene 11.  Enter Cutter, Tabytha, with Fiddlers. joll. 
Here are more Maskers too, I think; this Masking is a Heavenly entertainment for the Widow, who ne'er saw any Show yet but the Puppet-play o' Ninive.  Cut. 
Stay without, Scrapers.  Tab. 
Oh Lord, I'm as weary with Dancing as passes; Husband, husband, yonder's my Mother; O mother what do you think I ha' been doing to day?  Wid. 
Why what, Child? no hurt, I hope.  Tab. 
Nay nothing, I have only been married a little, and my husband Abednego and I have so danced it since.  Cut. 
Brave Tabytha still; never be angry Mother, you know where Marriages are made, your Daughters and your own were made in the same place, I warrant you, they're so like.  Wid. 
Well, his will be done— there's— no resisting Providence— but how, son Abednego, come you into that roaring habit of Perdition?  Cut. 
Mother, I was commanded by the Vision, there is some great end for it of Edification, which you shall know by the sequel.   

Scene 12.  Enter Truman senior, Truman junior, Lucia veiled. Trum. sen. 
Come, Dick, bring in your wife to your t'other father, and ask him blessing handsomely;  
Welcome, dear daughter; off with your Veil; Luc. unveils.  
Heaven bless ye both.  joll. 
Ha! what's this? more masking? why how now, Mr. Truman? you ha' not married my Niece, I hope, instead o' my daughter?  Trum. i. 
I only did, Sir, as I was appointed,  
And am amazed as much as you.  Trum. s. 
Villain, Rebel, Traitor, out o' my sight you son of a—  joll. 
Nay, hold him; patience, good Mr. Truman, let's understand the matter a little—  Trum. s. 
I won't understand, no that I won't, I won't understand a word, whilst he and his Whore are in my fight.  joll. 
Nay, good Sir— Why, what Niece? two husbands in one afternoon? that's too much o' conscience.  Luc. 
Two, Sir? I know of none but this,  
And how I came by him too, that I know not.  joll. 
This is Riddle me riddle me— where's my Daughter? ho! Aurelia.   

Scene 13.  Enter Aurelia. Aur. 
Here, Sir, I was just coming in.  joll. 
Ha' not you married young Mr. Truman?  Aur. 
No, Sir.  joll. 
Why, who then has he married?  Aur. 
Nay that, Sir, he may answer for himself,  
If he be of age to marry.  joll. 
But did not you promise me you'd marry him this afternoon, and go to Church with him presently to do't?  Aur. 
But, Sir, my Husband forbade the Banes.  joll. 
They're all mad; your Husband?  Aur. 
I Sir, the truth o' the matter, Sir, is this, (for it must out I see) 'twas I that was married this afternoon in the Matted Chamber to Mr. Puny, instead o' my Cousin Lucia.  joll. 
Stranger and stranger! what, and he not know't?  Aur. 
No, nor the Parson, Sir, himself.  joll. 
hay day!  Aur. 
'Twas done in the dark, Sir, and I veiled like my Cousin; 'twas a very clandestine marriage, I confess, but there are sufficient proofs of it; and for one, here's half the Piece of Gold he broke with me, which he'll know when he sees.  Pun. 
O rare, by Hymen I'm glad o'the change; 'tis a pretty Sorceress by my troth; Wit to Wit quoth the Devil to the Lawyer; I'll out amongst 'em presently, 't has saved me a beating too, which perhaps is all her Portion.  joll. 
You turn my Head, you dizzy me; but wouldst thou marry him without either knowing my mind, or so much as his?  Aur. 
His, Sir? he gave me five hundred pieces in Gold to make the Match; look, they are here still, Sir.  joll. 
Thou hast lost thy senses, Wench, and wilt make me do so too.  Aur. 
Briefly the truth is this, Sir, he gave me these five hundred Pieces to marry him by a Trick to my Cousin Lucia, and by another Trick I took the money and married him myself; the manner, Sir, you shall know anon at leisure, only your pardon, Sir, for the omission of my duty to you, I beg upon my knees.  joll. 
Nay, Wench, there's no hurt done, fifteen hundred pounds a year is no ill match for the daughter of a Sequestered Cavalier—  Aur. 
I thought so, Sir.  joll. 
If we could but cure him of some sottish affectations, but that must be thy task.  Aur. 
My life on't, Sir.  Pun. 
I'll out; Uncle Father your Blessing— my little Matchivil, I knew well enough 'twas you; what did you think I knew not Cross from Pile?  Aur. 
Did you i'faith?  Pun. 
I by this kiss of Amber-grees, or I'm a Cabbage.  Aur. 
Why then you outwitted me, and I'm content.  Pun. 
A pox upon you Merchant jolly, are you there?  joll. 
But stay, how come you, Niece, to be married to Mr. Truman?  Luc. 
I know not, Sir, as I was walking in the Garden.  Trum. i. 
I thought 'thad been— but blessed be the mistake,  
What ever prove the Consequence to all  
The less important fortunes of my life.  joll. 
Nay, there's no hurt done here neither—  Trum. s. 
No hurt, Colonel? I'll see him hanged at my door before he shall have a beggarly—  joll. 
Hark you, Mr. Truman, one word aside Talk aside. (for it is not necessary yet my wife should know so much.)  Aur. 
This foolish jane (as I perceive by the story) has lost a Husband by staying for a Black patch.  joll. 
Though I in rigour by my brothers Will might claim the forfeiture of her Estate, yet I assure you she shall have it all to the utmost farthing; in a day like this, when Heaven bestows on me and on my daughter so unexpected and so fair a fortune, it were an ill return to rob an Orphan committed to my Charge.  Aur 
My father's in the right.  
And as he clears her Fortune, so will I  
Her Honor. Hark you, Sir.  Trum. s. 
Why you speak, Sir, like a Virtuous Noble Gentleman, and do just as I should do myself in the same case; it is—  Aur. 
'Twas I upon my credit in a Veil; to Trum. jun. I'll tell, if you please, all that you said, when you had read the Letter. But d' you hear, Mr. Truman, do not you believe now that I had a design to lie with you (if you had consented to my coming at midnight) for upon my faith I had not, bud did it purely to try upon what terms your two Romantique Loves stood.  Cut. 
Ha, ha, ha! but your Farce was not right methinks at the end.  Pun. 
Why how, pray?  Cut. 
Why there should ha' been a Beating, a lusty Cudgeling to make it come off smartly with a twang at the tail.  Wor. 
Say you so? h'as got a set of damnable brawny serving-men.  Cut. 
At lest john Pudding here should ha' been basted.  Wor. 
A curse upon him, he saved himself like a Rat behind the Hangings.  Trum. i. 
O Lucia, how shall I beg thy pardon  
For my unjust suspicions of thy Virtue?  
Can you forgive a very Repentant sinner?  
Will a whole life of Penitence absolve me?  Trum. s. 
'Tis enough, good noble Colonel, I'm satisfied; Come, Dick, I see 'twas Heaven's will, and she's a very worthy virtuous Gentlewoman; I'm old and testy, but 'tis quickly over; my blessing upon you both.  Cut. 
Why so, all's well of all sides then; let me see, here's a brave Coupling day, only poor Worm must lead a Monkish life of 't.  Aur: 
I'll have a Wife for him too, if you will, fine Mrs. jane within; I'll undertake for her, I ha' set her a gog aside. to day for a husband, the first comer has her sure.  Wor. 
ay, but what Portion has she, Mrs. Puny? for we Captains o' the King's side ha' no need o' Wives with nothing.  Aur. 
Why Lozenges, and Halfmoons, and a pair of Silver-laced Shoes; but that Tropes lost to you; well, we'll see among us what may be done for her.  joll. 
Come, let's go in to Supper; there never was such a day of Intrigues as this in one Family. If my true Brother had come in at last too after his being five years dead, 'twould ha' been a very Play.  Exeunt.   
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE, Spoken by CUTTER.  
Methinks a Vision bids me silence break, Without his Peruique.  
And some words to this Congregation speak,  
So great and gay a one I ne'er did meet  
At the Fifth Monarch's Court in Coleman-street.  
But yet I wonder much not to espy a  
Brother in all this Court called Zephaniah.  
Bless me! where are we? What may this place be?  
For I begin by Vision now to see  
That this is a mere Theatre; well then,  
If't be e'en so, I'll Cutter be again. Puts on his Peruique.  
Not Cutter the pretended Cavalier,  
For to confess ingenuously here  
To you who always of that Party were,  
I never was of any; up and down  
I rolled, a very Rakehell of this Town.  
But now my Follies and my Faults are ended,  
My Fortune and my Mind are both amended,  
And if we may believe one who has failed before,  
Our Author says He'll mend, that is, He'll write no more.   

EPILOGUE, At Court.  
THe Madness of your People, and the Rage,  
You've seen too long upon the Public Stage,  
'Tis time at last (great Sir) 'tis time to see  
Their Tragic Follies brought to Comedy.  
If any blame the Lowness of our Scene,  
We humbly think some Persons there have been  
On the World's Theatre not long ago,  
Much more too High, than here they are too Low.  
And well we know that Comedy of old,  
Did her Plebeian rank with so much Honour hold,  
That it appeared not then too Base or Light,  
For the Great Scipio's Conquering hand to Write.  
How e'er, if such mean Persons seem too rude,  
When into Royal presence they intrude,  
Yet we shall hope a pardon to receive  
From you, a Prince so practised to forgive;  
A Prince, who with th' applause of Earth and Heaven,  
The rudeness of the Vulgar has Forgiven.  
FINIS.