CITY POLITICS.  
A COMEDY.  
As it is ACTED BY HIS Majesty's Servants.  
WRITTEN By Mr. CROWN.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bently in Covent-Garden, and Joseph-Hindmarsh, Bookseller to His Royal Highness. M.DC.LXXXIII.   

To the READER.  
THis PLAY, since its coming to light, has so cleared its Self and Me from Aspersions, that I am 〈◊〉 what I shall now, will appear Vanity, and a flourishing the Colours after Victory; but I think it not prudent to lay down Arms, when there is an Enemy in the Field: several Stories that once wounded my Reputation, and half smothered this Play, still March up and down and do me private Mischief, and every Day they get new Detachments of additional Inventions; some of these I think myself bound to deal withal. 'Tis said, I openly confessed, who I meant by the principal Characters in the Play, particularly by that of Bartoline. That this is false, common sense, and the Character itself will prove. Is it possible, I should be such a Bartholomew-Cokes, to pull out my Purse in a Fair, and as soon as ever a Knave tickled my Ear with a Sraw (a little silly Flattery) I should let go my Discretion and perhaps my Fortune? (for Libels may prove costly things.) They that made this Fool's Coat for me, should first have been sure it would fit me, lest it be turned on their Hands, and they made to wear it themselves. 'Tis known, I am too guilty of the other, extreme of Reservedness, I do not often expose my Writings, much less my Thoughts naked; And for the same reason that Beggars keep out of the way, when they find the Officers severe, the Overseers of the Folly of the Parish, have so often Whipped an undressed poor piece of mine round the Town, when I brought it to beg a little Charitable Covering, that I care not to come at 'em. If I had nothing to depend on, but the Collections of Wit in the Play-Wardens-Box, I should be miserable. If therefore I find such ill Entertainment, from those who pretend to provide for us, could I hope for good from Strangers and Enemies? In the next place, is it probable, I should make myself worse than I am, and accuse myself of Mischief I never intended? That I never designed to personate any one, appears, because I have not done it; for I who have drawn the general Corruption of Lawyers so well, as to please considerable Judges, indeed the whole Town, could with as much ease have Pictured any Man's particular qualities, which I would not hear of, though some would have enticed me to it. That I have made my Lawyer old and Married to a young Wife, is of no more concernment to any Gentleman in those Circumstances, than the description of a Thief in a Gazette, by his Wigg and Coat, is to an Honest Man directly so habited; He that finding his Friends Accoutrements agree in some thing with those in the Advertisement, shall think him a Thief, and draw his Sword to defend him from every Constable, deserves to be laughed at for an Ass. I had a more honourable Opinion of those who are said to be personated, then to suspect any one, would Apprehend them by Two such Lewd Characters as Barroline and Lucinda; to which they are so directly opposite in all things, but what is innocent and common, Age and Marriage. If I must have stripped my Characters of these for fear of giving offence, I must not bringed Villain on the Stage with a Nose, because many honest Men have Noses, and some of 'em may be thought to be aimed at. Nor is any one old Man, more than another, mimiqued by Mr. Lee's way of speaking, which all the Comedians can witness was my own invention, and Mr. Lee was taught it by me; to prove this farther, I have Printed Bartoline's part in that manner of spelling, by which I taught it Mr. Lee. They who have no Teeth cannot pronounce many Letters plain, but perpetually lisp, and break their words; and some words they cannot bring out at all. As for instance; th', is pronounced by thrusting the Tongue hard to the Teeth, therefore that sound they cannot make, but something like it. For that reason you will often find in Bartoline's part, instead of th', a y, as yat for that, yish for this, yosh for those, sometimes a t is left out, as houshand for thousand, hirchy for thirty; s▪ they pronounce like sh, as Sher for Sir, musht for must; t, they speak like ch; therefore you will find, chrue for true, Chreason for Treason, cho for to, choo for two, chen for ten, chake for take. And this ch is not to be pronounced like k, as 'tis in Christian but as in Child, Church, Chest. I desire the Reader to observe these things, because otherwise he will hardly understand much of the Lawyer's part, which in the opinion of all is the most divertising in the Comedy; but when this ridiculous way of spelling is familiar with him, it will render the part more pleasant.  
The next suspicious Character is that of the Doctor; some say I have abused an Eminent Divine to whom this Nation is much obliged, and are greatly offended: Either that Divine is guilty of the faults I have exposed, or not; if he be not, they abuse him by applying them to him; if he be, he is not wronged at all. If a Divine's Coat be foul, is it Sacrilege to brush it, and make him fit for Christian Society? strangely preposterous is the zeal of some Men, they will burn the Picture of Christ wherever they find it, but defend the Picture of the Devil if it be in the possession of one of their Friends. And St. Judas tells us, A Railer and Despiser of Dignities, is not like a good Angel, for St. Michael would not rail at the Devil; but I charge no Man with these Crimes, they who have a mind to bestow 'em on their Friends may. The other Characters I shall not trouble myself withal, but leave 'em to be shared among the Party as they please.  
Having thus vindicated my Innocence, I must say something in behalf of my Discretion. Suppose I have not injured particulars, yet in assaulting a whole powerful Party, I appear little less than a Mad Man, at least in their opinion; perhaps I was so, when I first wrote this Play, then half the Nation was mad, and no Man that I saw had cause to be so but the Poets; our Trades and Liberties were actually seized; all Professions broke in upon us, and made themselves Free of the Company of Rhimers, without any Charter from Nature. News-Mongers and Intelligencers took up the invention of Fables, and so clogged the Market ours would not vend. Joiner's, Carpenters, and Bricklayers, applied themselves to the building of State-Projects, and in order to that, very often took measure of Verse, but none o' their own heads, which they 〈◊〉 have found very unfit for either Profession, of Poetry or Policy. 〈◊〉 it is hard the Authors of these Confusions should upbraid us with a Distemper themselves occasioned, nay, encouraged in their Friends, whom they endeavoured to make as Mad as they could; and truly when I saw so many Mad Men, I thought it a Shame for a Poet not to be as Mad as any one else. Tameness in a Poet is as great a Disease as Frenzy in another, and when a Poet does not rave, his Wits are not right. When all men's brains were a Galloping, I could not hold in mine, and I played but the same breaks others did; they read a tilt at Lawful, and I at unlawful Powers; Mechaniques leapt over the Heads of Princes, and I over the Heads of Mechaniques; and I was held in so long, till they were taken many holes lower, that now I may be accounted a very sober Rider, and neither my Neck nor Discretion in danger. I am threatened by a Parliament, but they have a Childish opinion of that wise Assembly, who think they will concern themselves for such Poppets as I have made sport with. No doubt they will endeavour to tune the Nation, but not with such clattering Keys as mine; they will maintain the Laws, but not the Knavery and corruption of Lawyers; they will defend the Liberties of the Subject, but railing, faction and sauciness, are no part of our Liberties that I know of; they will encourage the Evidences of the late Popish Plot against our Religion, but neither them or others in a Plot against good Manners. No doubt 'tis hateful to see Popes tread on the Necks of Princes, but 'tis as odious to see a Rabble fling dirt in their Faces: they will suppress the enemies of our Religion and Government, than they will encourage this Comedy, for it promotes the same design. Any one that knows the dialect of these times, must needs understand the true Protestants reflected on in this Comedy, are a sort of Men who abuse that Honourable name by taking it to themselves; and whilst they cry Protestant Religion. Protestant Religion, mean as much another thing, as the Chimneyswe●per did that cried Mull'd-Sack. A sturdy crew they are, that think to defy all Authority, and obtain what ever they ask, by beging in numbers like Gypsies. They pretend also to Fortune-telling, and exactly to know what shall be any Man's Destiny at the Conjunction of such Heavenly Bodies as a Parliament; or it may be by Physiognomy, if your Eyes be not as good in seeing Plots as theirs, and by twenty other marks in the Face or Hand: but they are so often mistaken in their predictions, their Art is become ridiculous. The Lines in my hand I do not understand, but I do perfectly those in my Comedy, and I am certain by them to suffer no mischief from good Men; I may as I have done already, from Liars and barbarous cowardly Assassinates. Thus much for the Innocence and Honesty of my Self and the Play, the Wit and Poetry of it, I leave to shift for themselves. I have heard nothing substantial objected against them, so I shall not fight with Chirmeras. They who cannot find any Wit in it, perhaps would be as much at a loss, if it were never so full, for 'tis probable Wit and they are so great Strangers, they may meet and never know it. They who do not like the Plot, must blame the Faction, who invented the Original, for mine's but a Copy.   

The Prologue,  Spoken by Mr. Smith. 
GOOD Heaven be Thanked, the Frenzy of the Nation  
Gins to Cure, and Wit to grow in Fashion:  
Long the Two Theatres did proudly jar,  
And for Chief Sway, like Two Republics War;  
When of the sudden, a Devouring Host  
Of Dreadful Knights, (I say not of the Post)  
But strange Tongue Warriors, overran the Town,  
And Bl●w the Stage, almost the Kingdom down.  
And with the Stage the Poets must expire,  
For Bells will melt, if Steeples be on Fire;  
Then Coffeehouses Theatres were grown,  
Where Zealots acted in a furious tone,  
Oliver's Porter Damning Babylon.  
But they more Mad; for he in his worst 〈◊〉,  
Was ne'er so Mad as to Talk TREASON yet.  
'Tis strange those Men should wish the POPE such Evil,  
Who are so kind to the POPE's Friend, the DEVILS.  
They Drink, they Whore, and at their Rulers Rant,  
And all is well in a True PROTESTANT.  
These Follies have the Nation long Employed,  
And almost all the POET'S Trade destroyed.  
That they may justly seek Reprisals now,  
And Board those Pirates which brought them so low;  
Seize on that Ware, by which some Men by stealth  
Promote the Traffic of a Commonwealth▪  
Ware, some believe by Priests and Jesuits Spun,  
They Wove the Cloth, fanatics put in on.  
But some will say, a POET mend the Age!  
In these High Matters how dare they engage?  
Why, SIRS, a Poet's Reformation scorn;  
Since the Reformers now all POETS turn?  
And by their awkard jangling Rhimes proclaim,  
Like Bells rung backward, that the Town's on Flame:  
The City whigs such cursed Poets choose,  
For that alone they should their CHARTER lose.  
He is a wretched Coxcomb, who believes  
Muses, like JURIES, will be packed by SHERIFFS.  
But their ill palate no fine dressing needs,  
All Stuff that any Whiggish Fancy breeds,  
They swallow down, and live like Ducks on Weeds.  
These things give all the Nations round delight,  
Sure at our Fools to laugh we have most right.  
Let's not our Mirth to Foreign Kingdoms send,  
But here the growth of our own Country spe●d.  
Heaven knows what sums the CAUSE has cost this Town!  
Here You may have it all for Half-a-Crown.   

Dramatis Personae.  

Florio. A Debauch, who pretends to be Dying of the Diseases his Vices brought upon him, and penitent, in love with Rosaura.  
Artali. A Debauch that follows the Court, in love with Lucinda.  
Paulo Camillo. A Factious, proud, busy, credulous, foolish, rich Citizen, chosen Chief Magistrate, or Lord Podesta of Naples.  
Craffy. His Son, an impudent, amorous, pragmatical Fop, that pretends to Wit and Poetry, in love with his Father's Wife.  
A Bricklayer. A bold, saucy, Factious Fellow, that governs the Podesta.  
Doctor Panchy. An ignorant railing Fellow, that pretends to Learning.  
Bartoline. An old Corrupt Lawyer.  
The Governor of the City. A Man of Honour and Worth.  
A foolish mistaking Irish Witness Suborned by Bartoline.  
Rosaura. A Wanton beautiful Woman, Married to the Podesta, and in love with Florio.  
Lucinda. An ignorant wanton Country Girl, Married to Bartoline.   
Scene NAPLES.   



ACTUS 1. SCAENA 1.  Enter Florio in his Nightgown. Scene a Bedchamber. Enter Pietro. FLorio. 
Pietro.  Pietro. 
Sir.  Flo. 
What News Pietro? Has the worthy Citizen, whom I have Elected to be my Cuckold, attained the other Dignity of Podesta of Naples yet?  Piet. 
Not yet Sir, but he will attain it very speedily, all his Party are hard at work, Voices and Elbows at it, and they exceed the other Forty for one.  Flo. 
I am glad of it Pietro for when he is chief Magistrate of Naples, I shall be— of his Wife, dispatch his Domestic Affairs, and receive all the Fees of that sweet Office.  Piet. 
In troth you deserve it Sir, for you buy the Place dear.  Flo. 
Indeed I give a great deal for it Pietro, I give some scores of ready Mistresses I have in bank for the reversion of one, which perhaps I may never enjoy.  Piet. 
A great Price Sir.  Flo. 
'Tis so Pietro, I give away a hundred other pleasures into the bargain; as Drunkenness, a sweet sin Pietro, Wine is as necessary to a Man, as a Navigable River to a City, it conveys to him many pleasant Commodities; without it, he must depend upon his own growth.  Piet. 
'Tis true Sir.  Flo. 
Then I part with all the society of my witty lewd Friends, to keep company with dull lewd Saints.  Piet. 
Not Saints Sir, but Whigs.  Flo. 
That's as bad, and so lose the Reputation of my Loyalty and good Affection to my Prince.  Piet. 
You also part with the Reputation of being sound Sir, and of your affection to Women: In short Sir, you pass for a poor, rotten dying Saint.  Flo. 
A dead Saint Pietro, at least a dead Sinner, for I appear the Ghost of what I was, all my Vices mortified, and I am in a Would very different from that I used to live in; I talk Godly, a strange Language to me Pietro; I Pray, hear Sermons, live soberly, abstain from Wine, womans, and Wits, a strange life to me; but this new World is a dismal Purgatory, for as yet I have not attained my Heaven! my Rosaura, if I should never attain her Pietro—  Piet. 
●Twill not be her fault Sir.  Flo. 
That's true Pietro.  Piet. 
I suppose Sir she is not frighted by the Ghost you appear to be.  Flo. 
No Pietro, she knows me to be Flesh and Blood, sound Flesh and Blood, whose only Disease is a troublesome watchful Cuckold, if I can be cured of him, she'll venture on me.  Piet. 
If you never attain her Sir, Heaven be praised, you won't lose your sufferings, you will attain the Statesman's Mistress, Popularity.  Flo. 
Popularity! Damn her! a lewd, inconstant, common Prostitute; so old she's blind, and cannot distinguish an honest Man from a Knave, though she has a hundred pair of Spectacles put on her Nose, that show the Knave never so clear, she cries I can't see him; Ignoramus, Ignoramus, that's all the sense she has.  Piet. 
It may be not Sir, she sees well enough, but is too cunning to lay open the blemishes of her Stallion.  Flo. 
It may be so, but were she fairer than the most doting old Statesman thinks her, she is not so charming as a Hundred beautiful Women which I lose for her.  Piet. 
That's true Sir.  Flo. 
Do not the Ladies give me for gone?  Piet. 
For a Dead Man Sir.  Flo. 
And do they lament me?  Piet. 
All, all, Sir, the virtuous Ladies sigh, and cry 'tis pity, the other run distracted, the very common Whores abstain from Plays, and Bawds neglect their Brandy-Bottles.  Flo. 
You see what it is, Pietro, to do good in a Man's Generation; Hark!  A Shout, Paulo, Paulo, Pietro goes out, and presently reenters. 
The News Pietro?  Piet. 
Your Friend is Chosen Sir.  Flo. 
Is he? then shall I enter into my Employment speedily; now he is filled with Authority, he will be drunk with Pride to th'end of his Year, and I can make him reel whether and when I please; Hark! somebody comes—  [Pietro looks out. Piet. 
Esquire artal Sir.  Flo. 
That Rogue! my Patch upon my Nose, my Pillow and sick Equipage quickly.  Enter artal. Art. 
Where's this damned confounded Hypocrite? this religious, factious, dying Saint? I come to give you Thanks for the Legacy you leave the Nation, a sweet Rogue you have helped into power; we shall have a sine time on't.  Flo. 
Sir, if I have committed any crime in't, let the Law punish me, but do not Murder me with all this noise, I have mortal distempers enough upon me, I need not your bawling.  Art. 
That you have not one sound part in your Soul or Body I firmly believe; that the greatest part of your Body comes out of Shops, and every night goes not into Bed but Boxes, I know; but that your Soul and Body, although they have used one another, are upon parting, I no more believe, then that your Soul and your Vices are parted.  Flo. 
I value not what you believe Sir, but why should it be incredible a Man should part with any thing that uses him ill? say my Vices had not Murdered me, 'tis sufficient they fooled and enslaved me.  Art. 
Ah poor Man!  Flo. 
I was a common Bellman with my Rhimes to chime Fools asleep in their Sins, a Beadle to Whip out of the Parish impudent Beggars, and such we esteem all Church-Creeds and Principles.  Art. 
So you do still Sir, and are as little Charitable to 'em, whatever you pretend, as to any other kind of Beggars, for you will give good words to any handsome Beggar you hope to make a Whore of; And you have a worse design on Religion, to make her a Bawd to carry on some lewd project.  Flo. 
Rail on, or Laugh on, or both, I care not, you and the rest of my Atheistical Companions were Heaven-threat'ning, which stood long between me and the Church; and though I dwelled among you, I confess, to my shame, I was afraid of you; but now (Heaven be praised) I have travelled beyond you, and shall never look back on those horrors and precipices more.  Art. 
And are now got within a Days Journey of Heaven; Are you not Sir?  Flo. 
What is that to you Sir? get you about your business, do not disturb me, and make me waste my spirits to no purpose.  Art. 
I would only take my leave, wish you a good Journey, and a 〈◊〉 you when we shall see you again; for you will not stay long in Heaven I know, there's no Company that you will like Sir.  Flo. 
None that I like so ill as yours Sir—  [This Fellow aside. 
vexes me so, I almost faint.  Art. 
There are none of your Club Sir, Wits that believe one Stet Divine before all the Twelve Apostles Sir.  Flo. 
I am quite fainting.  Art. 
That count his Story true, and all theirs a Shame Sir.  Flo. 
This Fellow babbles me out of my senses.  Art. 
You would babble and scribble us out of our Estates.  Flo. 
Quite babbled me dead, I faint! give me a Cordial! if ever you let him in again— I'll— Pooh— I can hardly speak— give me that Cordial quickly.  [Drinks. Art. 
A Plague on you.  Flo. 
Oh! he has startled me with his frightful Curse! made me spill my Cordial, slabber myself, and almost choke myself; bless me! what work's here with this Fellow?  Art. 
Have I almost choked thee with a Cordial? then thou art no right Saint, for I have seen one of those they call the true Protestants, swallow another Man's whole estate for a Cordial, and never choke himself: Choke thee, damn thee.  Flo. 
Mercy on me! what a cursing and swearing the Wretch keeps; to what purpose is all this, thou silly Fellow? I warrant thou thinkest those sine-mouthed Jewels become thee, and art as proud of them as a Cannibal of a Ring in his Nose: if to be one of the Devils Knights, called an Atheist, be a sine thing, prithee wear a better Badge of thy Order then an Oath or a Curse, for those are Porterly Badges.  Art. 
Confound thee, sink thee.  Flo. 
Take me away, take me away, I am not able to bear this!  [Exit, led out by his Servants.] Art. 
Ha! ha'! ha'! the dissimulation of these Fellows is pleasant; but, a Pox on't, we pay too dear for these Jests, they cost us confusion and almost ruin: these Fellows so love division, every one of 'em has two Parties in himself.  
There is in every true Protestant Breast  
A Heraclitus Ridens, his Contest,  
A Knave in Earnest, and a Saint in Jest.  
The Saint looks up to Heaven, the Knave that while  
Your Pocket picks, and at the Cheat does smile:  
Catch him, he, like a Hedgehog, scrapes your Fury  
Under the Prickles of a sturdy Jury;  
Then, looking out, he does the Hunter's brave,  
For squinting vilely between Saint and Knave:  
He looks Ten ways at once, so they that watch him,  
Cannot tell which he'll take, and never Catch him.  [Exit. Enter Pietro peeping Pietro 
Sir, he's gone.  Enter Florio. Flo. 
Is he? that's well.  [Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Sir, here's the new Lord Podesta's Son,  
Mr. Craffy.  Flo. 
Oh! my Friend's Son! you must let him come in, though he be a very troublesome Coxcomb.  Enter Craffy. Craf. 
Oh Friend Florio, are you here?  Flo. 
Ay Sir, thanks to my Distemper that keeps me prisoner.  Craf. 
Who! but are'nt you wi' my Father yonder?  Flo. 
No, I profess I am here Sir.  Craf. 
How are you able to be here?  Flo. 
I am not able to be any where else, I'm so ill.  Craf. 
Ill? you are dull Man, for if you were not dull, you would go to my Father's Election; if you were giving up the Ghost, 'tis better than a thousand Bear-baitings, stay! a Camillo! a Camillo! a Camillo! say our party, what do you keep such a bawling for such a Fellow? says one of theirs? such a Fellow say our Party, and set up a laughing and hissing, and a hissing and a laughing; for all your laughing and hissing I'll speak my mind, says the Man; will ye so? says one of our party, and gives him a thump with his Elbow under the small Guts. Now will you speak your mind? says our Man; The Man is speechless.  Flo. 
A good way of silencing a Man.  Craf. 
The best we have, so upon that some of their party began to bear up, but we never gave over till we had quite hiss'd'em, and hooted'em, and Rogued'em, and Toryed'em out of the Hall.  Flo. 
I am glad of it.  Craf. 
But who do you think was the Captain of all our Party 〈◊〉 to lead 'em on wherever he saw an Enemy? and, I believe, discharged Rogue, Rogue, forty times for any Man's once.  Flo. 
Who?  Craf. 
Your Chaplain Doctor Sanchy.  Flo. 
Oh! he is a zealous Man, where is he? for I want to go to my Prayers.  Craf. 
Pray? he can't speak he's so hoarse, he's gone to drink a glass of Sack to clear his pipes; the truth is, I had as live he should pray for me as any body.  Flo. 
Why so.  Craf. 
Because no Saint in Heaven dare deny him any thing, for if he should he'd call him Rogue and Rascal. Well, but this is not the business I come to thee about, what dost think it is?  Flo. 
I cannot guests.  Craf. 
Guess! no, I'll give thee a thousand Guesses to guests it, I will give thee ten thousand; come, I'll give till this time Twelvemonth, and thou shalt think of nothing else.  Flo. 
Really, I have a little other business to employ my thoughts about.  Craf. 
Well, I'll put thee out of thy pain, and tell thee the oddest thing that ever thou heardest in thy life. Thou knowst my Father has lately Married the most delicate, luscious— luscious— lus— didst ever see such a Woman in thy life?  Flo. 
I can't tell, I am passed those studies now, the young Lady no doubt is handsome enough, but what o''at?  Craf. 
I'm stark mad in love with her.  Flo. 
In love with your Father's Wife?  Craf. 
Ay, so mad for her, that I am quite out o'my Wits; nay, I ha' not only lost my Wits, but my Stomach.  Flo. 
The greater loss of the two.  Craf. 
I can't eat nor drink, I can't sleep neither; I was once a rare sleeper, constantly after Supper my Eyes used to call for their Evenings draught and I was no sooner in bed, but they would tope off fourteen Hours at one go-down Now I tumble and toss like a Child that has the Worms, Love and Poetry are continually biteing me, I can't pray neither when I fall to my Beads, instead of crying Ave Maria, I cry Ave Mother-in-Law, I have given over all sorts of pleasures, I read no News, go to no Coffee-house, frequent no Club, and take no snuff.  Flo. 
Why you are come to a sad pass.  Craf. 
Introth I am, thou wouldst say so if thou knewest all, and I come to thee, to beg of thee, as ever thou wouldst save the life of an Honest young Fellow of thy own party, and a true Whig as I hope to be saved, to lend me a little of thy assistance, for thou art a rare Fellow at Wenching, knowst all the tricks of Women, and hast great power over my Mother.  Flo. 
And so I must procure her for you Sir?  Craf. 
Ay, prithee do now, prithee dear Rogue do now; Brother Whig, Brother Whig, prithee dear Brother Whig do now.  Flo. 
Brother Whig! thou horrid Wretch, Brother to the Devil, art thou in earnest.  Craf. 
Why thou horrid Fool, Brother to a changeling, dost think I come to hear myself prate?  Flo. 
Then wouldst thou Cuckold thy Father, thou Monster?  Craf. 
Would I not if I could, thou Monster? would any thing refuse to lie with such a sweet Creature but a Monster?  Flo. 
Would any thing but the horrid'st Villain upon Earth, endeavour to dishonour his Father's Bed?  Craf. 
Would any thing but the horrid'st Ass upon Earth, say a lusty young Fellow shall not honour his Father's Bed more than an old fumbler that disgraces it!  Flo. 
Then 'tis a thing of reputation with thee to commit Incest?  Craf. 
Incest? prithee don't trouble me with hard names, I don't think it is any more Incest to lie with the same woman my Father does, then to drink in the same Glass, or sit in the same Pue at Church.  Flo. 
Is there no difference between your Father's Wife and his Pew?  Craf. 
He makes none, for they only both lay him to sleep. I would make a difference, I confess, in the sweet use, not that I think his Wife more sacred than his Pew, for the locking of a Man to a Woman in Marriage, or in a Pew in a Church, are only a couple of Church-tricks to get Money, one for the Priest, and t'other for the Sexton; that's all.  Flo. 
You are a fine Fellow.  Craf. 
I would I were so fine a Fellow as to please my Mother-in-Law, and I would not change to be thee, if thou wert at thy best; And I do all I can to be a fine Fellow, it costs me the Lord knows what in one Beauty-Water or another to mend my Face, and a Pox on't, I'm never the handsomer; prithee hast ere a Looking-glass to see how I look?  Flo. 
Why, if thou look'st never so well, dost thou think thou couldst charm thy Mother into an Incestuous Strumpet?  Craf. 
What a robust word is there? look thee I understand Trap, and so does she, I kissed her behind another's day, that is, I came behind and kissed her, pretending I took her for the Waiting-Woman, and she let me, pretending she took me for my Father; a rank Shame o'both sides, we had both a mind to kiss, and there's an end; And I swear she let me rumple those sweet Lips of hers as patiently as a Mercer will let a good Customer do his Silks in hopes to put'em off.  Flo. 
Ha! I'm glad you tell me this Sir, since she is so weak a piece, I'll fortify her.  Craf. 
With Godly Counsels! putting forces into her Head will never fortify her Tail, what signifies fortifying the Capital City, when the remote Provinces rebel?  Flo. 
I shall bring down the Prince of the Country, your Father Sir, upon you, who if he cannot quell the rebellion, shall deal with you.  Craf. 
Why thou wilt not betray me, wilt thou? I never knew a religious Fool that was not a Rogue in my life; I tell thee what, if thou dost tell my Father I would lie with his Wife, Egad I'll swear to him thou dost lie with her, and I'll bring a hundred Witnesses to 〈◊〉 it, besides Corroboraters.  Flo. 
How!  Craf. 
Yes that I will, I'll teach you to play the Knave, you stinking damned Fellow you, I'm going now by my Father's order to search the Cathedral for Arms to affront the Clergy, and make 'em suspected for Plotters; now, instead of Arms, I'll search for Swearers, and if they catch you by the back, they'I shake you worse than an Ague, and be harder to cure then the Pox Sir.  Flo. 
There is a way to be cured Sir.  Craf. 
Ay, Twelve Protestant Consciences cleanly picked, not one or another's side amongst 'em, are as certain a Cure of an Evidence, as Jesuits Powder of an Ague, Probatum est.  Flo. 
Come back, thou art such a Villain, I know  [Is going off.] 
not what to do with thee.  Craf. 
And thou art such a Knave, I know not what to do with thee, Pox on me for trusting thee.  Flo. 
If I should conceal thy wickedness, thou wouldst proceed in it.  Craf. 
I will proceed, whether thou concealest it or no.  Flo. 
And ruin thy Soul.  Craf. 
I don't know whether I have a Soul or no.  Flo. 
If I tell thy Father—  Craf. 
Then I'll forswear it.  Flo. 
And hid your Roguery with perjury?  Craf. 
Ay, and be a true Protestant for all that.  Flo. 
And break your Father's Heart?  Craf. 
I'll come the sooner to his Estate, and the easier to his Wife.  Flo. 
Oh fine Fellow! Well Sir, out of love to your good Father, whose Heart this news would break; and out of love to the City, whose safety depends much upon your wise Father's Conduct, I will conceal this; but I'll watch you.  Craf. 
Watch and be Hanged— I would watch thee for my Mother, but that she knows thou art such a foul rusty Gun, if she should discharge thee, thou wouldst fly in pieces, and hazard her life too.  Flo. 
Away you Monster.  Craf. 
Away you Godly FALSE Puppy.  [Exit. Flo. 
I am glad the Fool gave me this notice. I do not know 
But my fair Love, like an o're-fertile Field,  
May breed rank Weeds, if she be idly Till'd;  
Lest Love for Fools should in her Bosom live,  
She shall have all the Tillage I can give.   [Exit.  

Scene the Street.  Enter the Governor of the City, artal, and Guard. Gou. 
This foolish headstrong City will choose that factious troublesome Coxcomb Paulo Camillo for their Podesta.  A Shout, A Paulo, a Paulo. Enter Podesta, Citizens, Bricklayer. Br. 
A brave Paulo, we ha' carried thee Boy!  Go. 
Is this Gentleman Elected?  Br. 
Yes that he is, for all the tricks that were used to hinder it.  Go. 
I thought his Excellency the Viceroy had given you intimation another person would be more pleasing to him, and in this juncture more sitting for the Office.  Pod. 
Another Man more fit to be Podesta then me? then I shall think another Man more fit to be Viceroy than he, and so I'll make bold humbly to acquaint His Majesty.  [Aside. Br. 
Are we to follow the Vice-Roys pleasure, or our own consciences?  Art. 
Here's saucy Rogue.  Go. 
What are you Sir, that undertake thus impudently for all the rest?  Br. 
'Tis well known what I am, I am a Freeman of Naples, a Bricklayer by Trade.  Go. 
Oh I have heard of a busy pragmatical Fellow that calls himself the Catholic Bricklayer, are you he Sir?  Br. 
I am not bound by Law to give an account what I am; if any one has any thing to say to me, let him deal with me according to Law.  Go. 
But Sir, you might be so civil as to make me an Answer.  Br. 
I'll do nothing for no Man, but according to Law.  Pod. 
My Lord, the Man as to his occupation is but a mean Man, but as to his abilities, he makes a very considerable Figure.  Art. 
He is a pretty Figure indeed.  Br. 
We have a Charter for the free Election of our Magistrate, and what we have done, our Charter will justify.  Go. 
Have you a Charter to be sawey Sir?  Br. 
What I speak is according to Law, and I may speak Law in defence of our proceed.  Pod. 
Come, pray be silent, 'tis according to Law also for me to speak, His Excellence the Viceroy has been pleased to oppose my Election, stimulated thereunto by evil Men, Enemies to the City and Nation, they would betray and sell us to the French, and they're angry so active a Man as I am put over the City to prevent their wicked Machinations; for that reason I will be ten times more active.  Art. 
A Pox of an active Rogue.  [aside. Go. 
Who are these evil Men you speak of, Indict 'em and prove 'em Guilty, and I'll engage the Viceroy will severely punish 'em.  Pod. 
I don't know who they are, all's one for that, I'm sure there are such Traitors, though I don't know who they are, and Frenchmen, though I don't know where they are, and Plots, though I don't know what they are, and I'll make work.  Go. 
May not you be deceived?  Pod. 
No, I'm never deceived; for the preservation therefore of the Town, I will have four Regiments of the Train bands be upon the 〈◊〉, during my whole Year; and I, or my Officers, will every four and twenty Hours search every House in the City.  Go. 
At this rate you will not let people be quiet in their Houses.  Pod. 
No▪ nor out of their Houses neither, I will have no Ranting, reveling, Gaming, Drinking, no nor Eating immoderately; I will have 〈…〉 eat and drink according to Law, and I will have all men's Tables examined to see if there be no Letters cou●ey'd into their Dishes from the French, and if I find but the least cause of suspicion, I'll take their dinners into custody; I will have all persons be in bed at the ringing of the Nine-a-Clock Bell; and I, or my Officers, will see 'em i'bed, and see who they have a bed with 'em too.  Art. 
Here's a fine business, pox o'thee and thy Officers, shall we neither eat, drink, nor lie a bed in quiet, for thee and thy Officers?  Pod. 
Poxo ' me and my Officers? Pox o' your Wench's Sir, I'll make you know I am a Magistrate; Seize him.  Go. 
And have I no Authority, that you offer to Seize him in my presence?  Br. 
Yes, we know your Authority, know you are Military Governor of the City, Captain of the Vice Roys Guards, a Lord, nay more than all this, a Justice of Peace, and twenty things more; what do we care for all that, we are in the City Liberties, and what we do is according to Law.  Go. 
Hold your prating Sirrah.  Pod. 
He says truth.  Go. 
It may be according to Law, but 'tis unmannerly.  Br. 
All's one, 'tis according to Law.  Go. 
But Sir, this Gentleman is an Officer under me, and you have not power over him, therefore I advise you not to meddle with him.  Br. 
Have a care what you do, do nothing but according to Law.  Pod. 
Have you a care of advising me, I know what I do, I'll do nothing but according to Law.  Go. 
Nor I neither, for I have Authority by Law to Protect my Officer by force, if you use force; but because I'll make no disturbance, let him alone, and I'll pass my word for him.  Br. 
If the Law will let him alone, do, otherwise not.  Go. 
Will you not take my Word?  Br. 
Advise with Counsel.  Pod. 
Advise me again! I know what I do, I will advise with Counsel!  Go. 
Advise with Counsel whether my Word's to be taken, or no; Guards, force artal out of their Hands, and take that Rascally Bricklayer into Custody, [Brick layer is seized. and let me see who dares resist. Now Sirrah, though I could punish you by Law for your insolence, since you are a Freeman, I will not disturb the City-Festival with the punishment o'the least o'their Members, though they deserve it not; therefore Sirrah, if any of your great Friends here will be bound for your good behaviour, I'll release you.  Pod. 
'Tis beneath my Dignity, though I respect the Man.  Go. 
Who else will be bound for him? Nobody? You see, Sirrah, for what special Friends you leave you Trade and venture your Neck.  Br. 
Hang 'em, I knew the Rogues were of untempered Mortar: A word with you Sir in private— Procure me a Pension, I'll come over to your Party.  Go. 
A Pension! a Whip you Rascal; go Sirrah, I give you liberty, follow your Trade, and mind all of you your own matters, leave State affairs to your Governors, we have more to lose than any of you.  Pod. 
I don't know that I have a hundred thousand pound to lose, and that's enough for one Man; but however my Lord, if you please to introduce me to His Excellence the Viceroy—  Go. 
What to be—? I understand you my Lord.  Pod. 
How the Devil came he to understand my mind so well?  Go. 
Truly my Lord, I must tell you plainly, I don't care to do so ungrateful an Office to His Excellency, for I know his mind very well, I know, till you have a better introducer than myself, I mean your good management of affairs, you will not be very welcome to him, nor receive any honour from him. And so Farewell my Lord.  Exeunt Governor, artal, and Guards. Pod. 
Say ye so, shall I not be welcome to him? then he shall not be Welcome to me; And since he'll do me no Honour, I'll do his Government not Honour. My Wife, for want of this Knighthood, will lead me an ill life; and I for want of it will lead him an ill life, since he is so huffy and stormy, I'll be a Storm.  Cat. 
Do my Lord.  Pod. 
A Whirlwind, that shall rumble and roar over his head, tear open Doors by day and by night, toss his Friends out of their Coaches and Beds into Goals; nor shall all the Preach, and Pulpit-Charms 〈◊〉 their Priests 
Dispossess me, or fright me in the least,  
A Whig's a Devil that can cast out a Priest.   [Exeunt. 
The End of the First Act.    

ACT, the Second.  Enter Podesta, Citizens; Scene the Podesta's House. Pod. 
NOt Knight me? when he knew I was a proud Man, very proud Man, opposed him out o'pride, and a Knighthood might ha' bought me. He shall repent it.  Enter Rosaura attended. Ros. 
Welcome home my Lord, I wish you joy of your new Honour.  Pod. 
Thank you Sweetheart, I am glad I'm in a capacity to do my Country service, but I'm sorry I can't do you the service you affect.  Ros. 
What's that my Lord?  Pod. 
Give you lasting Honour, The Title I shall bestow on you will live no longer than a Grasshopper or a Silkworm, 'twill die at the end of the Year, your present Title of Ladyship will then die into an Alderman's Wife, for I am not Knighted.  Ros. 
Not Knighted?  Pod. 
Not Knighted.  Ros. 
How dare they use you thus?  Pod. 
They are desperate.  Ros. 
I'm troubled.  Pod. 
I know it.  Ros. 
I was born well, and I affect Honour.  Pod. 
I know it, I know your spirit better than you do yourself, and am pleased with your affection to Honour, for Honour is an excellent guard to Virtue, I know you are punctually just to me.  Ros. 
Am I? I think I am.  Pod. 
Out of a point of Honour I know it, scorning to appear what you are not; not out of dulness and want of gaiety you affect pleasures and follow 'em.  Ros. 
I do.  Pod. 
Out of a point of Honour, to appear what you are, I know you, know your temper perfectly.  Ros. 
So perfectly you amaze me.  Pod. 
Oh! I have a penitrating judgement, know your passion for Honour, highly commend it, and would gratify it if I could, but since I cannot, I will give you a kind of Honour, Revenge. The methods you must leave to me.  Ros. 
Give me Greatness, and do you keep Policy.  Pod. 
Well carved.  Ros. 
So, I have nursed the Wen of his Vanity, till it has blinded his Eyes, and made him mistake his affection for mine; what I really affect, he is never like to see, and that's only my dear Florio.  [aside. Enter the Bricklayer. Br. 
Your Servant Sir, I am much beholding to you, and the rest of my brethren of the City for the kindness you showed me to day in refusing to be bound for me.  Pod. 
I'll answer you Sir, we resolved to go prudently to work, we did not know but they might have laid Treason to your charge, so we resolved to see whether they durst have Tried you, and if they had Tried you, whether they durst have brought you in Guilty, and if they had brought you in Guilty, whether they durst have Hanged you, and if they had Hanged you— then let 'em look to themselves.  Br. 
And who should ha' looked to me then? a very fine business, come, come, this was scurvy, but I'll stick to the cause whilst I have drop of blood.  Enter Craffy. Craf. 
Ha● there's my delicate Mother-in Law, that ever such a curious Appendix should be bound up with such a Volume 〈…〉 covered with Calf's Leather, as that old Fellow is, I will t●a●her 〈◊〉 him, I'll be hanged if she loves him; and as for Marriage-promises, they are but Church-Mouth-Glue, they won't hold a couple together Three Days.  Pod. 
Oh are you come Sir? well, what ha' you done Sir?  Craf. 
A delicate Woman!  [Aside] Sir. Pod. 
Sir? are you asleep Sir?  Craf. 
No, nor a ●ed Sir, would I were wi' your Wife Sir.  [aside. Pod. 
What are you hearing on Sir? why don't you give me an Account of what I sent you about? did not I send you to search the Cathedral for Arms Sir?  Craf. 
Yes Sir.  Pod 
And what ha' you done Sir?  Craf. 
Sir, I have been searching— searching— searching— Sir— that Mother-in-Law—  Pod 
Searching your Mother-in-Law Sir?  Craf. 
The Cathedral, the Cathedral I mean Sir.  Pod. 
Sirrah, you said Mother-in Law.  Craf. 
Why is not a Cathedral a Mother-Church Sir?  Pod. 
Sirrah, you said Mother in-Law.  Craf. 
Why is not a Cathedral according to Law Sir? I spoke jeeringly, and you know we use to jeer the Church Sir.  Pod. 
That's true.  Craf. 
Lord Sir, must I teach you the language of your own Family?  Pod. 
Well, did the Priests let you come in patiently?  Craf. 
Ay, ay,— fiddle— faddle— a delicate Woman!  [aside. Pod. 
That's very strange, than they are not afraid o' me?  Craf. 
I hope shortly to leave never a Priest in Christendom, they call themselves the Pillars o' truth, they are rather the Whipping-Posts o' truth, and Sign-posts of Faction.  Pod. 
I'll handle greater people than they.  Craf. 
I must have this Woman, if Courtship won't do, Love-powder shall.  [aside. Pod. 
Come Sir, I'll try your understanding.  Craf. 
I am resolved upon Love-powder.  [aside. Pod. 
I can put the City in Arms, upon pretence of a French Invasion, but when they see no invasion, and the fright is over, how shall I keep up that Army?  Craf. 
The best way will be by Love-powder.  Pod. 
How! keep up an Army by Love-powder? you impudent, ill-mannered unnatural Rascal you, do you jeer your Father?  Craf. 
Sir, I don't jeer you.  Pod. 
Sirrah, you either jeer me, or which is almost as saucy, did not attend to what I said.  Craf. 
Well, I confess my Wits were a Woolgathering, and I beg your pardon Sir.  Pod. 
A Woolgathering? a Whore-gathering by your story of Love-powder, you saucy debauched Fop you, when your Father condescends to talk wisely to you of State-affairs, must your brains be rambling after Wenches?  Craf. 
Wenches are fitter for me then State-affairs Sir; what a Deuce should such a young Fellow as I trouble himself with State-affairs for?  Pod. 
Who used to trouble themselves and others too about State-affairs more than you Sir? were you not such a tempestuous disputer in Coffeehouses, that as soon as ever you appeared in one, both sides would run away, our Friends out of envy, and our Enemies out of fear.  Br. 
'Tis my case, no Man will sit by me in a Coffee-house.  Pod. 
Were not your Writings like so many Fire-drakes? no Printer would meddle with 'em, no person come near 'em.  Br. 
His things are very near my Style, and I am forced to Print all my things at my own charge.  Pod. 
And now Sirrah, all o' the sudden, you are unfit for State-affairs; come, come Sirrah, you are a Villain, have turned Cat in Pan; and are a Tory.  Craf. 
A Tory? that's a good one, when I'm now Writing an Answer to Absolom and Achitophel.  Pod. 
How!  Ros. 
'tis true indeed, he read part of it to my Maid last night.  Wom. 
He did indeed Madam, and 'tis very fine.  Br. 
May be that puzzles his Head then.  Pod. 
Nay, if it be so, I shall not be angry with him, for o' my Word▪ a good Answer to that would do us service.  Br. 
And 'twill require pains.  Pod. 
It will do so, if he employs his time and thoughts so well as that▪ I shall be very well satisfied; what do you call this Poem?  Craf. 
Azariah and Hushai.  Pod. 
A very good subject.  Br. 
Well chosen.  Craf. 
Is not this a strange thing now, that you who are no Poet, not understand Poetry no more than a Cat, should lie insulting o'er a Man o' sense, when he is breaking his brains for the service and honour of you and your party?  Pod. 
Well, well Craffy, I did not know it, I did not know it.  Craf. 
Not know it? then you should not meddle with that you do not understand, I must break my sleep, and spoil my stomach in studying to do you service, and be called a Villain and a Tory?  Pod. 
Well, well Child, I am sorry, I am sorry.  Craf. 
Sorry? what does your sorryness signify? suppose your vexing me should make me Writ but a sorry Poem, as twenty to one but it will, and so I'll go burn what I ha' done, and there's an end.  Pod. 
Nay prithee Child.  Craf. 
I will.  Pod. 
Prithee dear Child.  Craf. 
Hay I will.  Pod. 
No, prithee Child, let me see what thou hast done, and finish the remainder.  Craf. 
I won't.  Pod. 
Prithee do now, 'twill joy my heart.  Craf. 
I say I won't.  Pod. 
This it is to breed our Sons Wiser than ourselves, we are despised for our pains.  Br. 
Look, if he has not made his good Father weep; are not you a cross-grained ill-natured Fellow to make your old Father weep? what if he be not so good a Poet and Scholar as you, he has as good natural parts, and better.  Pod. 
He is ungrateful to me, for what learning he has, my purse paid for; but I always find overmuch wit and learning make people insolent, and when all's done, a Fool's a better comfort to his Parents, than one of these great Wits.  Br. 
Go fetch the Poem, and be Whipped to you.  Ros. 
Do Mr. Craffy, 'twill oblige your Father and me both.  Craff. 
Will it oblige your Lor'ship Madam? to do that I'll run a Thousand Miles upon my bea● Head, Madam.  [Exit Craffy. Pod. 
I'm glad he pays so much respect to you, Sweetheart, though he will pay none to me.  Ros. 
Yes, yes, he will, but great Wits are humour some.  Pod. 
Nay, the Boy has excellent parts, that's certain, but when all done, 'tis but a folly to breed Boys up to this height, for it does but spoil them, and all business, for they will be a top o' business, riding upon old men's backs, and so the old Men go lamely, and the Boys ride madly, and the business goes awkardly.  Ros. 
Now shall I be wedged in, between the old Fool and the young, by the heavy Beetle of this Poem, and have no opportunity with my charming Florio, when he comes I'll lay away the Beetle;  [aside. Maria. Wom. 
Madam.  Ros. 
Did not you say Craffy fell asleep last night in reading his own Verses, and when he waked, forgot 'em in your Chamber?  Wom. 
Yes Madam.  Ros. 
Run quickly and bring 'em to me.  [Exit Woman. Enter Florio wrapped in his Cloak. Pod. 
Oh! how do you good Mr. Florio?  Flo. 
Thank you good my Lord, the better to see things go so well, that you are chosen.  Pod 
Oh! we carried clearly.  Flo. 
Ay, so my Chaplain Dr. Sanchy said, who I think laboured for my Lord.  Br. 
Ay indeed, he took great pains, there was scarce a Man appeared 'gainst my Lord, that he did not call Rogue and Rascal a hundred times.  Flo. 
He is a zealous Man, and so seldom calls any Man by his Christian name, that he is suspected to be an Anabaptist, and against Christening— Oh! dear Madam, is your Ladyship here? when I came into the Room, I saw a Lady, and turned my head aside, as my usual manners is when I see Women, for they ha' been no good Friends o' mine, and so I did not mind your Ladyship, I beg your pardon.  Ros. 
Oh! it needs not Sir, I am very glad to see you look so well.  Pod. 
Ay truly, Mr. Florio looks very fine and fresh ruddy and plump, methinks I have hopes of him; what says your Doctor's Sir?  Flo. 
Alas! my Lord, they have given me over long since, all my trust is in an incomparable Nurse.  Pod. 
Pray who is she?  Flo. 
As you came along my Lord, you might ha' seen her tied by a Rope to my door.  Pod. 
Tied with a Rope? what is she a mad Woman?  Flo. 
No, no, my Lord, a Cow, my Lord, a Cow.  Pod. 
A Cow?  Flo. 
Ay my Lord, ha' not I managed myself well, to bring myself from one of those they call one of the Wits of the Kingdom, to be one of the Calves, and live upon the breasts of a poor Beast, for thence I have all my subsistence.  Pod. 
Alack! yet your Face says you are as well as ever you were in your life, I protest it does.  Flo. 
My Face is as false as ever my heart was, it might have more innocence, for it is scarce two Months old, I mean the Flesh of it.  Pod. 
Is it possible, I warrant if you were to begin the World again, you would have none of the mad frolicks you had?  Flo. 
I think I should not, I laughed once at mad Fellows that in drunken frolicks eat fire, but was not I more mad to belch Fire at Heaven itself, as I have often done in my abominable talk? but what did I get by it? he threw it all back again in my Face, and almost consumed me. Man is a shallow Animal, can bear no excess, too much Wit makes him as mad as too much Wine, and a little over sets him; yet he thinks his silly Scull contains all things, rules all things, and Omnipotence itself is afraid of that pitiful Engine.  Pod. 
Very well.  Flo. 
When all that the most hot-brained Fellow in the world can do, is to make a smoke to darken things, he can't strike Fire enough out of himself to light him into the nature of a Fly. But 'tis time we went to Prayers. Doctor Sanchy.  Enter Doctor Sanchy. Dr. 
I'm a coming.  Flo. 
Good Doctor give us a few Prayers.  Dr. 
Ay if you will.  Flo. 
My Lord being a Magistrate, I think Doctor you must read the Prayers of the Church.  Dr. 
I'll see 'em burnt first, and all Priests hanged, before I read any of their Prayers.  Flo. 
The Law commands it.  Dr. 
Therefore I won't do it, I'll be commanded by nothing, and do nothing I'm commanded.  Br. 
For matter o' Law, we can easily come off, no body dare indict us.  Flo. 
But for matter o' Conscience.  Dr. 
Hang Conscience, I do it out o' matter of Honour, and matter of Revenge, the Priests are Rascals and slight me, and I'll slight their Prayers.  Flo. 
We should not be humoursome in our Prayers Doctor.  Dr. 
I'll do what I please, or I'll do nothing.  Pod. 
Pray let him, for we are all obliged to the Doctor for the assistance he gave my Election.  Dr. 
He had need of it, there was a damned Company o' Rogues appeared against you, I hope to see 'em all hanged.  Br. 
There was one great Man.  Dr. 
A great Rogue, he deserves to be burnt.  Pod. 
There was a great lady very busy.  Dr. 
A great Whore, she deserves to be whipped, I hope to see all such Rogues and Whores whipped out of the Kingdom; but come let us go to Prayers.  Enter Craffy. Craff. 
O the Devil, the Devil!  Pod. 
What's the matter?  Craff. 
I ha' lost my Hushai, I can't find it high nor low. Who saw my Hushai?  Dr. 
What the Poem that you read to me, that was an answer to Absalon?  Craf. 
Ay.  Dr. 
I had rather ha' lost ten pounds out o' my own Pocket.  Pod. 
Then do you like it Doctor?  Dr. 
'Twas an admirable thing! 'twould ha' made the Rogue that writ Absalon hang himself; look about for this Hushai.  Flo. 
Won't you go to Prayers first Doctor?  Dr. 
Hang Prayers! this is a thing of forty times the consequence we may pray at any time, or if we never pray at all, 'tis no great matter, it is but a thing of form to please the people; look for this Hushai. I'll look for't myself.  [Exit Dr.] Craf. 
Who the Devil has got my Hushai?  Enter a Vintner's Boy. Boy. 
Is Mr. Craffy here?  Craf. 
Well Sir, what would you have?  Boy. 
I come from the Club, they stay for you Sir.  Craf. 
The Club be damned, I can't come, I ha' lost my Hushai.  Pod. 
What Club is it?  Craf. 
The Club o' young politic Whigs, you know 'em.  Pod. 
Oh Craffy, you must go to 'em, they are all persons of Quality.  Craf. 
What care I for their quality, they are but a company o' young Coxcombs, I won't lose my Hushai for 'em.  Pod. 
Sirrah, you are a saucy fellow to call young Men o' their parts and quality, Coxcombs, they are admitted into better Company than yours Sir.  Craf. 
Ay, to help to pay reckon, flatter an old Knaves vanity, and give a Guinny to the burning of a Pope.  Pod. 
Sir, some of 'em have had the honour to sit in great Cabals.  Craf. 
I wonder they could.  Pod. 
Why so Sir?  Craf. 
Because some of 'em were so lately whipped at School for Blockheads. I wonder they could sit any where, they have the marks of Fools both before and behind, and if ever they speak, the mark's in their Mouths.  Br. 
I done't like this Fellow.  Pod. 
Sirrah, I now begin to suspect you again for a Tory, and get you to 'em, or I'll not only Cudgel you, but disinherit you.  Craf. 
Take notice if I go to 'em, I shall be very drunk.  Pod. 
I care not if you be in such company as they are.  Craf. 
Your Wise's Honesty may pay for't, for I shall be very impudent when I am drunk;  [aside. 
look all for my Hushai.  [Exit Craffy. Br. 
What else!  Ros. 
So, we are rid of one Fool, could we have as good luck with the rest!  [aside. Enter Doctor Sanchy. Dr. 
What is become of this Hushai, some concealed Rogue has burnt it out of Envy.  Enter a Coffee-Boy. Coffee-Boy. 
Doctor you must come to the Coffee-house.  Dr. 
Must come?  Coffee-boy. 
Ay, to a person of quality.  Dr. 
That person of quality is a Coxcomb, and you are a saucy Rascal; must come?  Coffee-boy. 
'Tis the lame Lord.  Dr. 
He is a Rascal.  Coffee-boy. 
Your Friend.  Dr. 
Oh! than I'll come, but look all about for this Hushai.  Pod. 
Do so, and let me have an account of it when I come home.  [Exeunt Dr. and Boy. Ros. 
Are you a going abroad my Lord?  Pod. 
Yes Sweetheart, and shall not come home these three hour,  
Mr. Florio, you'll excuse me, I leave you.  Flo. 
Oh! good my Lord!  Exeunt Podesta, Bricklayer, and Citizens. 
Ha! rid of all my diseases at once!  
I mean my Fools, and left alone with my health! my Rosaura!  Ros. 
My life! my Florio!  They embrace, and Enter Podesta and Bricklayer. Flo. 
My Rosaura!  Ros. 
My Husband! faint, faint in my arms, help, help, help.  Pod. 
What's the matter?  Ros. 
Mr. Florio is fallen into an Appopleptick Fit, and dies in my arms.  Pod. 
Alas poor Gentleman! who there? [Enter Pietro. help in with your Master, and call a Doctor, I'm cruelly afraid he'll go away in one of these Fits.  [Exit Pietro, Rosaura, and Florio. Enter a Servant. Seru. 
My Lord, here's an old Counsellor, Bartoline, lighted at your door, and is coming up to speak with your Lordship.  Pod. 
This old Lawyer is a strange Fellow, he is very old, and very rich, and yet follows the Term, as if he were to begin the World.  Br. 
He has lost all his Teeth that he can hardly speak, and he will be pleading for his See; but he's of our side, and so we must not speak against him.  Lawyer. [Enter Bartoline, Lucinda, and (at a distance) artal. Art. 
What pretty Country Creature's this! I cannot but venture inafter her; the Podesta's House is public, and so I shall not be taken notice of.  Bar. 
Where's my Lord Poshta? hah! where is he?  Pod. 
Here, here, old Friend, do not you see me?  Bar. 
No, said my eysh are none of the besht.  Pod. 
You follow the Term still?  Bar. 
Ay, and will ash long ash I live, yer'sh no caush wi'out me.  Br. 
How can you follow all Causes?  Bar. 
Ye'y follow me, ye'y will ha'me.  Pod. 
What young Gentlewoman ha' you brought with you here 〈◊〉  Bar. 
One I may be ashamed on— shesh my folly, yat is cho shay my Wife— I ha' played ye fool, and Married a young Garle.  Art. 
Thy Wife? if thou be'st her Husband, thou shalt be my Cuckold.  [aside. Pod. 
Welcome to Town Madam.  Br. 
Welcome Mistress.  Bar. 
Is she not pritchy? you she I have a sweet chooth in my head shtill.  Pod. 
Sweet Tooth? you ha' never a Tooth in your head.  Bar. 
Yatsh chrue, but I'll by't for all yet wr ' my Wit.  Pod. 
Why would you Marry such a young thing as this?  Br. 
A Man of fourscore be so fond? he, 〈◊〉.  Bar. 
A Man of foashco— yersh no such thing, ye are Boysh or foashsco— if you will, after ' hreeshco we ought cho go in long coach, for breechesh are imposh churesh and preechen● cho that 〈…〉 I believe my Lord Poshta you are behindhand wi' your 〈…〉 ash I, I believe sho— hah!  Pod. 
Though I be, I shall suffer no disgrace.  Bar. 
How do you know yat?  Pod. 
Because I married a virtuous Woman.  Bar. 
A vartuoush Woman? why sho did I for aught I know may be bo'h mi●hchaken.  Pod. 
No, I am never mistaken.  Bar. 
Oh you're a happy Man, I ha'no such confidentsh in a Woman I declare it before my Girlesh faish, I'll wash her wachersh.  Pod. 
Do if you please.  Bar. 
And for yat reashon I have brought her hither, deshire you tho' let her be in your housh; yoursh is a shivil Family, and here she'll have a great yeale of good company, yat will chake off her fanshy from going abroad and playing ye fool.  Art. 
So, now I shall know where to find her.  [aside. Pod. 
What would you ha ' me keep a Boarding-house?  Bar. 
What do you shtand upon sheremonyesh with an old Friend fo●● you and I have known one anoyer fortchy years, and when you're in bed with your Wife, yersh shome'hing about you dosh confesh you cho be old. Come, if you'll let me be here, I'll give your Wife a Jewel, and you a peish o' Plate, and I'll pay a good rate beshidesh; what chay you cho y'ish now, Huh?  Pod. 
With all my heart.  Bar. 
Will my Lady conshent? for I believe de Maresh de lecher hoish.  Pod. 
My Will is hers.  Bar. 
I would know ' yat of her.  Pod. 
She is busied now in a work of Charity, about a poor Gentleman, that's fallen in an Appoplectick Fit, I don't know whether 'll'l recover it, if he does, he can't live long, he's in a deep Consumption, I should be sorry to lose him, though in point o' Money, I should be a gainer by his death, for he will leave us a very good Legacy.  Bar. 
A Legashy? huh!  Pod. 
Yes, for he's a rich Bachelor.  Bar. 
What a Kinshman?  Pod. 
No kin at all, but he has a great Friendship for us because we are a strict sober Family, and he is a mighty Religious Gentleman.  Art. 
Oh! I know this Religious Rogue, 'tis Florio.  [aside. Bar. 
Will he leave you money, becaush you are shober? huh!  Pod. 
You must know he was a great follower of naughty Women, and now he feels the sad consequence, and has a great value for Virtue, and I believe will leave my Wife a great part of his estate, because she is a virtuous Woman.  Bar. 
Do you hear Girl? you are fallen incho a brave housh, where you may get money by Vartshow and Shobrietchy; Come, my Lord, what will you have, I'll pay you any rate, Come.  Pod. 
You and I will not fall out.  Art. 
Ha! is he a providing a Florio for his Wife? I'll provide him a Florio. By good luck I have an Indian-Gown and Cap at the door, just new out of the Shop.  [Exit Artall. Bar. 
What is yish Gentlemansh name?  Pod. 
Florio.  Bar. 
Oh! you're is such a Man; I never shaw him, but I have heard of him, a great debosh, wash he not? and a good witshy Fellow.  Pod. 
Oh! a very witty man, and a wicked man too once, but now the most penitent creature in the world, and he had need be so, he is going out of it, he cannot live many Months.  Bar. 
Alash poor man, and when he dyesh he'll leave all hish money to Vartuoush people will he? huh.  Pod. 
Yes, he says 'tis sowing Seed in good ground; well ●ha● some occasions call me away, you may be here if you will, old acquaintance.  Br. 
Ay, let him, let him, and come away about your business.  [Exeunt Podesta and Bricklayer. Bar. 
Hark you, hark you! Sho, yish wash very lucky, Girl you much make it your buyshnesh cho get iucho yish Genklemansh favour by your Shobriechy, and you may mump my Lady Poshta of hish Eschate for oughteh I know.  Enter artal in a Nightgown and Cap, a Patch on his Nose, led by Two Servants. Art. 
I grow weaker and weaker every day, my time draws on, Heaven prepare me for my Change, yet I'll use the means to live. Give me my Milk.  Bar. 
I my Consciensh, yish is de Genkleman!  Art. 
Give me my Milk I say you Rascals: what have I said? indeed I should not call any thing out of its name, I ask your pardon for it.  1 Ser. 
Ah Sir! ask your poor Servants pardon?  Art. 
Ay and thank you too, if you will give it me. I was so accustomed in the days of my wickedness to Libel every thing, I cannot leave the ill habit still.  Bar. 
Ay, yish is he, yish is he sharchainly.  Art. 
Truth is, Atheism is nothing else but a Libel on the whole Creation, calling it the Offspring of paltry Chance, when 'tis the Child of Heaven, that I ought to ask pardon of every Dog for detracting from his descent; But give me my Milk, and set me a Chair to repose my self, for I am very weak.  Bar. 
Alack! alack! yish is the poor Gentleman; But what a ' hang it is y'at yish young Fellow should bring himshelush inchoshuch a shed condition: let me she how he looksh!  Puts on his Spectacles, and looks on artal, whilst artal holds the Pot to his Nose. Luc. 
Certainly this handsome sick Gentleman is the fine unhappy Mr. Florio, I have heard so much talk of, a thousand pities such a delicate Gentleman should bring himself to this!  Bar. 
He looksh very white— odsha ' me— 'twash the white potch— ay 'twash the potch, and he looks very rudgy, but men in yat g●●t will do sho, ay yey will do sho.  Art. 
Oh! Florio, Florio!  Bar. 
Oh! now I am shachishfyed, 'tish he.  Art. 
How hast thou brought on this Youth all the Infirmities of Age? my eyes are dim, my breath is short, my Limbs are weak, Limbs did I say? I have none, at least of Heaven's making: I have Embezzled all the Furniture of my Soul and body in vice, though Heaven gave me an excellent Housekeeper to look to it all, a careful wakeful Creature, called a Conscience, which never slept, never let me sleep in ill, but I abused her, sought to turn her out of doors, nay, Murder her, but could not.  Bar. 
I prochesht yish is very shed.  Luc. 
Exceeding pitiful.  Art. 
Ashamed of her I was, and to all my Atheistical Companions denied her, at the same time she stared me in the face; 'Tis the Atheists trick to hid his Conscience as the Tradesman does his Wench, for fear of spoiling his Credit, and losing his Traffic with those ill people, who will not come near him if he owns so scandalous a thing as a Conscience.  Luc. 
I swear he almost makes me weep.  Bar. 
Why chruly I am chroubled, and I done't ushe cho be sho.  Art. 
But ala! let him hid her for a time, when diseases and death come and shake the building in pieces, as now they do mine, the poor foul Conscience will appear through all the Rubbish, and call out mercy, mercy, when it may be 'tis too late; thank Heaven for the fair warning I have had; Is my Coffin ready?  2 Ser. 
Dear Sir, why does your Honour think of a Coffin? 'tis time enough to talk of that forty years hence.  Art. 
Oh! prithee don't flatter my crazed body, I cannot live, I hang on the Eves of life, like a trembling drop, ready every minute to fall and be seen no more.  Bar. 
Alash, alash.  1 Ser. 
Oh! dear, and please your Honour, here is company, I doubt your Honour entrenches on a Gentleman's Chamber?  Art. 
Heaven forbidden! where is the Gentleman? I beg your pardon Sir a thousand times; my good friend the new Lord Podesta, you know Sir, is a sober, discreet, frugal person, hates the vanity and prodigality of splendid Housekeeping, and so I suppose, may content himself with a part of this House, and oblige a friend with the remainder; if you be the friend, I beg your pardon Sir, I would ha' gone up higher, but truly I wanted breath.  Bar. 
Why chruly, you shay chrue Shir, my Lord yo'sh oblige me with part of hish housh, which part, or the whole housh, if it were mine, should be at your shervish, good Mr. Florio.  Art. 
Do you know me Sir?  Bar. 
No Shir, but I have heard much of your great partsh, and my Lord Poshto chellsh me what a good man you are, and I have heard it choo wi' my own earsh.  Art. 
May I crave your name Sir?  Bar. 
I am called Barcholine Shir, I am a Fellow pritchy well known among Lawyersh..  Art. 
The famous Counsellor Bartoline?  Bar. 
I have some Repuchation in y'at way Shir.  Art. 
I am glad to know your Sir, I think I see a young Woman there, very young— is she your Grandchild Sir?  Bar. 
Why chruly Shir, I am almosht ashamed cho chell you she is my Wife.  Art. 
Oh dear! would you Marry one so young Sir?  Bar. 
I wanched a comfort for my Age Shir.  Art. 
And she wants a comfort for her Youth, Heaven that made both Sexes, would have both provided for, can pou provide for hers?  Bar. 
Whatch I want in Provisionsh I make up in a heartchy Welcome— hah!  Art. 
But will that suffice her?  Bar. 
It may in chime, cushtome is a great matcher, I have obsherved lushty Sou'dies by custom got cho dine and shup very comforchably on a pipe o' Chobacco.  Art. 
But they steal many a good bit that no body knows of.  Bar. 
Why chruly she may Shir, but not if she be honesht.  Art. 
Many an honest Parishoner follows private Meetings, because he finds no comfort from the Parson of the Parish, but she seems a virtuous, modest, young Lady, and I would pay my respects to her in a salute, but I fear my breath may offend her, pray excuse me to her Sir.  Bar. 
Oh! good Shir, well shir, she and I are cho chaken with the discourshesh we have heard fall from you, y'at we are exshtreamly deshiroush to be frequently wi' you Shir.  Art. 
Alas Sir! I am unfit for company, my good Lady Podesta indeed will fit by me half a day here, as by a murmuring Brook that slides fast away, and soon will be dried up for ever, and she is content to hear my little purl.  Bar. 
Ay yey are very well ingeed Shir, very well, and you would much obliegsh ush, my Wife wantsh such good company, shesh a young creature, yat never in Chown before, and yos'h not know the World Shir.  Art. 
Is it possible! sweet Madam, you are failed into a dangerous Gulf which few young Ladies pass without casting away their Reputations, or Honesties, or both; I have been an Admiral here, and you see to what I am brought!  Bar. 
Well Shir, affairsh call me away, I'll make bold cho leave you chogether Shir.  Art. 
She will be weary of me Sir, for I am weary of myself.  Bar. 
No ingeed Shir, she chaksh great gelight in your dishcoursh, pray letch her have it Shir, I'll rechurn presently, wheegle him, dye hear? wheegle him, you may get a good Legashy.  [Exit. Bartoline. Art. 
Is he gone?  1 Ser. 
He's gone Sir.  Art. 
My Perriwigg and Love Aquipage, quickly.  Luc. 
How now! what's this?  Art. 
An Adorer of yours fair creature, no unsound, false, wicked Florio, but a sound, young, vigorous, passionate Lover, if you will not believe my tongue, believe my Nose, the patch covers wholesome flesh, believe my Legs, which leap, vault, and run, except from you sweet Creature.  Luc. 
I am betrayed! drawn into a Snare (but 'tis a sweet one (aside) help! help! help!  Art. 
I need no help my Dear.  Luc. 
But I do, help! help! help!  
Oh 'tis a lovely Gentleman! (aside.) help! help!  
'Tis a delicate Gentleman! (aside.) help! help!  Art. 
Why do you call so loud? I can help you to what you want.  Luc. 
Help, help! will you force me? (I can't resist him, (aside.) help! help!  Art. 
All this is to no purpose.  Luc. 
Oh fie upon you, what a Man you are? A handsome Man I mean, (aside.) I am out of breath with striving, help! help! Oh my heart pants! help! help! help!  [Artall carries her off. 
The End of the Second Act.   

ACT, the Third.  Enter artal and Lucinda; The scene continues. Luc. 
OH! Fie upon you! fie upon you, was ever virtuous Gentlewoman served such a trick before?  Art. 
Oh! frequently, scores of 'em are served so, every Easter- Term.  Luc. 
What, Women that are as virtuous as myself?  Art. 
Ay, full as virtuous.  Luc. 
O Lord bless us! what a place is this! I did not think there had been such a place, nor such a Man as you in the world, I shall never endure to see you more.  Art. 
Do not say so.  Luc. 
No, never as long as I live.  Art. 
You'll change your mind.  Luc. 
Never whilst I breath.  Art. 
Yes when I come next, mean while I am your humble Servant.  Luc. 
Your Servant dear Sir.  Art. 
When shall I wait on you again, Madam?  Luc. 
When you please Sir, I shall at all times be glad of your good Company.  Art. 
Your Servant dear Madam.  Luc. 
Your Servant dear Sir.  [Exit. artal. Enter Bartoline and his Clerk with Papers. Bar. 
Wher'sh my Wife, and poo Mishte Florio? huh! where are yey?  Luc. 
Here's your Wife, but poor Mr. Florio is gone away very ill.  Bar. 
Were you not weary of him? huh!  Luc. 
No indeed, I could have been with him all day and all night.  Bar. 
I doubt you dishemble.  Luc. 
Indeed I do not.  Bar. 
I doubch you had rather been at a Play, or shome other Diverchishment.  Luc. 
I swear I had more pleasure from him, than ever I had from any Divertisement in my life.  Bar. 
Well, be good whilsht I live, 'twill be the betcher for you when I die, than I shall leave you Rich enough cho chake your choish of young handshome Coxshcombes.  Luc. 
Do not tell me of young handsome Coxcombs.  Bar. 
You won't Marry I warrant when I am gead? no not you? a ' housand to one, you will be Married before, nay, I dare hold chenne pound you are Conchracted now?  Luc. 
How!  Bar. 
Nay, not by a Preish, but by looksh, and shmirkeh, etc. twisching of Eye-beamsh, and making a Wedging-Ring of the fine round mou'h— and yush, I believe you have promished your shelf cho a ' housand foolsh.  Luc. 
You wrong me extremely.  Bar. 
All ye betcher, I'm sure I shall disherve your kindness, for I am labouring cho make you a rich Widgow; The Term won't lashed a mouth, and I ha' more breviatsh and Papersh putch incho my hand shince I went out, then I can read in ' hree monh'sh, I'm sure on't.  Luc. 
And what must become o' your Client's Causes?  Bar. 
I yont care, I know what will become o' yeir Money; I'll lock it up preshently, all for you, give me my Papersh, come let me she now— let me she— whatsh her cho do? [Reads his Papers. Oh! among other ' hingsh heresh a buy shnesh in which my Brothersh Neck'sh consherned; He is ' hirchy years younger then I am, yet he is old enough cho be Wiser; He hath played the fool and killg a man, and ye Widow bringsh an Appeal, in which it sheemsh year arishesh matcher of Law— my Brother shendsh me chenne pound ' cho rechaine me, ye Widow shendsh me twenchy, sho I follow ye poor Widyowsh buyshnesh, I am for ye poor Widow, I.  Luc. 
Will you Hang your Brother for ten pound?  Bar. 
You should ashke me if I would hang him for chenne shillingsh, then I might conshiger it, but chenne ponn' is a great yeale o' money, 'tish a great yeale of money, come let me she.  [Reads. Luc. 
Methinks 'tis a little against the Law of Nature.  Bar. 
Ye Law of Natchure belongsh cho Pchivilians Woman, we common Lawyeash y'ont studgy ye Law of Nachure, 'tish none of our shtudgy— no— no— But come let me she— whatsh hear now? come.  [Exit. Lucinda Bartoline Reads, Drum's beaten without; Enter Podesta, Bricklayer, and a Gentleman. Gent. 
My Lord.  Pod. 
What's your business Sir?  Gent. 
I have a Message to you Lordship, from his Highness the Viceroy.  Pod. 
Very well Sir, I attend.  Gent. 
His Highness desires your Lordship not to disturb and frighten the City, by raising the Town Forces to no purpose  Pod. 
He is of opinion, 'tis to no purpose, is he?  Gent. 
Yes my Lord.  Pod. 
I am of a contrary opinion, and I am seldom mistaken.  Gent. 
His Highness bid me tell you, that for the bare satisfaction of the people, (though danger requires it not) he is willing you should keep up half you do.  Pod. 
He would have me keep but half?  Gent. 
No my Lord.  Pod. 
Then I will keep as many more.  Gent. 
Is that your Answer?  Br. 
Yes, and we will justify it by Law.  Gent. 
Well bred, good humoured Gentlemen these, and fine Subjects  Pod. 
He shall shortly hear from us things that [Exit Gent. will vex him worse than this, Articles that may cost him his Employment. We'll not only humbly humbly address to His Majesty, but Impeach him; I'll teach him not to Knight me.  Br. 
Here is Counsellor Bartoline, the greatest Lawyer in the Kingdom, and one of our own Party, you can't possibly advise with a better Man about 'em, give him the Hundred pound Fee, the City allows you to retain some eminent Lawyer.  Pod. 
I will, Counsellor Bartoline, I must speak a word wi' you.  Bar. 
I'm not at leishure, I have Caushesh cho look over, yat are cho come on cho Morrow.  Pod. 
But we have a Cause in which the whole City's concerned.  Bar. 
You must defer it then, for if I y'ont appear in yish Cause cho Morrow, 'twill be losht, it wholly dependsh upon me, and I cannot but in conshiensh atchend it, I have a Fiftshe pound Fee.  Pod. 
We'll give you a Hundred pound, Mun.  Bar 
How? a Hundgered pound? huh?  Pod. 
Ay, there ' 'tis.  Bar. 
Here, lay ashide yesh Papers,  [to his Clerk. 
Well, whatsh your buyshnesh now— come— huh!  Br. 
We are drawing up Articles against the Man of the Castle.  Bar. 
Yea Man at ye Cashtle, wosh yat?  Pod. 
He means the Viceroy.  Bar. 
Archiclsh against the Viceh-Roy— huh?  Pod. 
Ay.  Bar. 
Gi' me ye Papersh again, I won't meggle in't.  Br. 
How! not meddle?  Bar. 
No, I won't meggle, I won't meggle.  Br. 
Your reason?  Bar. 
I may loosh my Head must, I won't meggle, no, no, come let me she.  [Reads his papers again. Br. 
No matter if you do lose your Head, if you have no more honesty nor love for your Country, then to refuse to do your countries' business, when you have received your Country's Money.  Bar. 
I yoned care whosh money 'tish, let it be ye Devilsh money I'll keep it, now I have it, but I won't meggle in the buyshnesh— no— no— come— come.  [Reads. Br. 
Keep our Money? and not do our business?  Bar. 
'Tish our way. 'Tish our way.  Pod. 
Sir, by your Favour, either do our business, or pay back our Fee.  Bar. 
Pay back your Fee— 'twash never known mun, and I won't shut an ill pregident; no, no, 'tish shufficient I won't be against you, yatsh enough. Come let me she.  Br. 
Did one ever know such a Knave? what shall we do? for you and I must account for this Money.  Pod. 
Let me alone with him, I understand Mankind; Counsellor Bartoline, do not play the Fool wi' yourself, and lose a Thousand pound, which you may get by this Cause.  Bar. 
A ' houshand Pound? huh!  Pod. 
Yes, this is a great Cause, and the City will go through with it, whatever it costs 'em.  Bar. 
Come, I'll underchake ye buyshnesh— come.  Pod. 
Did not I tell you I understand Mankind?  Bar. 
But I won't appea publicly— dye hear— I won't appea.  Br. 
Give us Counsels will do the Man at the Castle's business, and we don't care.  Bar. 
Let me alone.  Enter a second Gentleman. 2 Gent. 
Counsellor Bartoline a word wi' you.  Bar. 
Your buyshnesh.  2 Gent. 
I am sent to you by his Highness the Viceroy.  Bar. 
Hish Highnesh the Vy'sh-Roy? shpeak shoftly.  2 Gent. 
His Highness is informed you are here, and very great with these Men.  Bar. 
I great with yesh Men? 'tish falsh, they're Knaush, I haitch 'em, I haitch 'em.  2 Gent. 
Nay, he believes you only assist 'em as a Lawyer for your Fees, you have too much Wisdom and Law to engage in their ill and dangerous designs.  Bar. 
Hang 'em, hang 'em.  2 Gent. 
And such they have, his Highness is well assured.  Bar. 
No doubeh on't, mosht sherchain.  2 Gent. 
And therefore he's resolved to punish 'em.  Bar. 
He musht do't! he musht.  2 Gent. 
To that end he intends to indict 'em of several Crimes.  Bar. 
I am glad of it.  2 Gent. 
How far they will extend in Law he knows not.  Bar. 
Very probable.  2 Gent. 
Therefore he sends you by me a hundred pieces.  Bar. 
He doesh very well— very well— hesh a wish Man.  2 Gent. 
For your Advice.  Bar. 
I'll give it him, but not publicly— I won't appea, but I'll give him such advysh ash shall do yeir buyshnesh.  2 Gent. 
I'll tell it him.  Bar. 
If he hash a fanshy cho hang'em he shall.  2 Gent. 
I'll tell him.  [Exit Gent. Br. 
Well, you'll undertake our business?  Bar. 
Let me alone— give me your Articlesh— come— now I'll go studgy, come along.  [Exeunt Bartoline and Clerk. Br. 
So, this is a notable old Fellow, if he undertakes the business, he l do't.  Pod. 
You need not inform me in Mankind.  Enter Florio wrapped in a Cloak, leaning on a Staff, led by Pietro. Flo. 
Where's my— Where's my— every little thing puts me so out of breath— Where's my Lord Podesta?  Pod. 
Here Mr. Florio.  Flo. 
I have great (pooh) blows) I am so faint with every little motion, and little talk— I have great News for you.  Pod. 
Great News, and I not know it? there is seldom any thing to be known that I don't know.  Flo. 
I'll tell it you, but I must open a Vein first that I may breathe— ●e●ch a Surgeon— I played the Fool— uh! as I came— uh! along, I saw a young Woman with naked (pooh) Breasts— going I'm certain to— pooh— to be naught; so I reproved her, but she was very angry, and said she was an honest Woman; then I said she was to blame to let those two Breasts come abroad, like two Domestic Intelligences to slander her; so she said she did it to please her— pooh— her Husband; so I said her Husband was a wise Man to make his Wife show her— pooh— her Breasts in such a Town as this, such Treasure would invite Pickpockets enough to rob him of it. And thus with this wanton Woman I wasted my— pooh— my Spirits.  Pod. 
So you have done now more than needs, you might have told us the News in the time you have told the Story.  Flo. 
'Tis true indeed— Well, I'll tell you the News, you may see how things go, for my part I am glad I have not long to live, to see the Nation Ruined.  Br. 
Why what's the business?  Flo. 
There's a French Fleet upon the Coast, and six of the principal Commanders lurk in the Disguise of Pilgrims about Mount Vesuvio, to burn the Town by night, and let in their Friends.  Pod. 
I knew all this several Hours ago.  Flo. 
Is it possible my Lord? you have excellent Intelligence.  Pod. 
So I have.  Flo. 
I'm sure 'tis not half an Hour since I invented it.  [Aside. Pod. 
What do you think made me raise the Militia?  Br. 
Was it for that?  Pod. 
Do you think I raised 'em for nothing, I never do a foolish thing.  Br. 
And why would you not tell me?  Pod. 
I had some reasons of State.  Flo. 
And what will your Lordship do in it?  Pod. 
What else, but seize 'em?  Br. 
We must do it very privately, lest they ha' notice, for they have Friends in Town.  Pod. 
You need not teach me my business, nor that they have Friends in Town, what meant the Order to put down Two Regiments o' the Militia?  Flo. 
Was there such an Order?  Br. 
I was an earwitness.  Pod. 
You may see how things go: whereupon I smartly replied, Would they have Two down, said I? then I will have four more up, said I, smartly.  Flo. 
That was very well.  Br. 
As well as I could have advised.  Pod. 
Sir, I know what I do.  Br. 
I protest I thought you had done it only to cross 'em.  Pod. 
Sir, I have deeper fetches in things than you are ware of.  Br. 
I see you have.  Pod. 
Now you shall see how I'll manage this business, I will leave my Hat, Gown, and Periwig here, put on your Hat, Coat, and Periwig Bricklayer, and go out so disguised, that my own Family shall not know what is become of me.  Flo. 
That will do very well.  Br. 
I cannot advise better.  Pod. 
Then I'll go to your House Bricklayer, and there send for Twenty Men such as I can trust, and Arm them, and when that's done I won't trust them neither, but take 'em along, and they themselves shall not know whether they go, What say you to this?  Flo. 
Incomparable.  Br. 
Very well; but why would you not do this before, since you had intelligence of these Men?  Pod. 
For good reasons you may be sure, I never do a foolish thing; come, give me your things.  Br. 
What shall I wear myself?  Pod. 
Any Porters so far as your House,  [Podesta disguises himself. 
Now will not this deal with Pilgrims?  Mr. Florio, 
have you strength to go with us?  Armed with a Blunderbuss at his back. Flo. 
To mount Vesuvio? I may as well hope to carry the Mountain on my back, but if I had strength I durst not venture.  Br. 
Why, what are you afraid of?  Flo. 
Pride, Pride, I am mighty apt to be vain, formerly a little success in a Jest or a Song, or Libel, would ha' made me a notorious Ass; imagine then, if when I come from this great expedition, I should see my name in every Intelligence, my Picture on every Wall, what an insufferable haughty Coxcomb I should be? Lord, Lord, I should be so proud!  Br. 
For my part now, I go o' purpose for these things, and intent to sit for my Picture as soon as ever I come home, I was bid Money for my Face yesterday.  Flo. 
You who have but one infirmity, need not fear it. But my Vices like Tories ride in troops, and if one gets into me, a hundred will follow: if now I am sick I should love your praises, when I am well I shall love your Wives.  Pod. 
He speaks a great deal of reason, we'll go without him.  Br. 
But who shall guide us?  Flo. 
My Lord needs no Guide.  Pod. 
No, I know where they are to a hairs breadth, Here comes my Wife, don't let her know who I am; [Enter Rosaura I remember I read in Plutarch, that Brutus would not trust his Wife Portia with Affairs of State, I'll imitate his Politics.  Ros. 
No News o' my Lord?  Flo. 
I suppose Madam he's busied about some great affair.  Ros. 
Mr. Florio, I have an humble address to make to you.  Flo. 
What is it good Madam.  Ros. 
I am a Woman more nice and careful of my honour, than any other Woman is of her face or skin; in my Husband's presence I am secure from malice, but in his absence I can never open my doors but slander will enter, even your Religion and Virtue Sir cannot hinder her from following you in, and fastening on us both.  Flo. 
Slander will have lean food in me Madam.  Ros. 
All's one Sir, 'tis best to avoid her. I would therefore humbly beg you at all times of my Husband's absence to bestow your excellent conversation elsewhere.  Flo. 
'Twill be very prudent Madam.  Ros. 
I hope you'll not take it ill Sir.  Flo. 
By no means Madam.  
Do you hear what an excellent Wife you have?  [aside. Pod. 
I know her Sir.  Flo. 
An Admirable Woman!  Pod. 
Sir, you need not inform me.  Ros. 
Who ha' you got wi' you there?  Flo. 
A very Honest Man Madam.  Ros. 
Are you sure o' that? 'cause these are dark times, a Knave will shine in 'em like rotten Wood by night, And that Man has a notable outside, he resembles much my Husband, who is one of the wisest men in this Age.  Flo. 
Do you hear?  Pod. 
Sir, she is a Woman of vast parts.  Ros. 
I have a great fancy to secure him.  Br. 
Pshaw, we shall have a fiddle faddle with her, and spoil our business— Get you gone, go.  [Exit Podesta. Ros. 
How does he fly? that's suspicious. Seize him.  Br. 
Away, away Man, I'll follow you.  [Exit Bricklayer. Flo. 
No good Madam, I'll be bound for him. Ha! Ha! what a Coxcomb is this? now is he gone he knows not whether, to catch he knows not whom.  Ros. 
What an Excellent thing, and how Useful in the World is Credulity?  Flo. 
'Tis so, to many excellent Trades, To the sparkish Fop, the Shopkeepers large faith swells his Feather and garniture, To the Politician, the believing empty-headed Rabble are his Bladders. But oh 'tis of excellent use to a Lover.  Ros. 
And to a Trade you ha' not named— a Swearer.  Flo. 
A Lover is a Swearer, a private one, he is not a public Evidence, a Swearer-General.  Ros. 
You were once Swearer-General to our whole Sex.  Flo. 
But I recant, and now will I kiss no Book but these sweet Lips.  Ros. 
Hold! not so fast.  Flo. 
Why, what's to do?  Ros. 
I must blush a while.  Flo. 
Blushes are for the Morning of Love, we have traveled many tedious hours since that, and without any refreshment, except baiting now and then at a Kiss, Those lips are delightful places, but not the end of the Journey.  Ros. 
You say you have travelled in Love, you say true, you have passed through many hearts, and I fear have wasted all your love by the way.  Flo. 
I have only trifled away some unnecessary travelling expenses, here will I lay out my whole heart.  Ros. 
A mortgaged Heart!  Flo. 
Indeed it is not.  Ros. 
What security will you give me?  Flo. 
Have I not Pawned a Kingdom to you, I was King of Libertines, and I have left my Dominions, and all my fair female subjects to be a slave to you and a fool to the Priests. [Knocks. Knocking! we're undone! have talked away our precious minutes, Heaven grant it be not the old Coxcomb.  Ros. 
Whoever it be, we are in an ill condition to [louder knocking. be thus locked up together.  Flo. 
Venture to ask who ' 'tis.  Ros. 
Who's there?  Craf. 
'Tis I Madam.  [Craffy within. Ros. 
'Tis the fool Craffy.  Flo. 
What shall we do with him?  Craf. 
Madam, I must speak with your Ladyship.  [Within Ros. 
Come some other time, I'm very busy now.  Craf. 
This business must be done now Madam.  [Within Ros. 
Dispatch it where you are then.  Craf. 
I cannot, this is private business Madam.  [Within. Ros. 
Then you must let it alone, for I neither can nor will speak wi' you.  Craf. 
You must and shall speak with me, since you go to that, and if you won't let me in at the Door, I'll climb in at the Window.  Ros. 
You are saucy Sirrah.  Craf. 
There is no business to be done without sauciness.  Flo. 
What shall we do with this Fellow?  Ros. 
Put on my Husband's Gown, Hat, and Periwig, and lie upon the Couch as if you slept.  Craf. 
Will you let me in or no?  Ros. 
You are in great haste Sir.  Craf. 
Yes that I am, my business is earnest.  Florio is disguised, and lies down, Rosaura opens the Door, Enter Craffy Drunk. Craf. 
So, she's all alone, as I hope to be saved!  Ros. 
Well, what's your business Sir.  Craf. 
I have sweet business! delicate business, and I'll do't I'll Warrant me— Drunkenness has given me wit and impudence, if it don't disfigure me, I don't care, I am cursedly afraid 'twill put my features out of Rank and File, they won't march even, and gracefully, and in Battalia.  [aside. Ros. 
Well, hast thou given me all this trouble, and now hast nothing to say?  Craf. 
Yes, I have something to say, and now it shall out. I come— I come— most sweet—  Ros. 
Speak softly, for your Father's asleep on the Couch.  Craf. 
My Father there! the Devil take him for his pains, that Blockhead never did me any good, nor ever will; now he lies like a great Boome to hinder my Vessel from coming into the Harbour when the wind is fair: Odd I could find in my heart to cut him!  Ros. 
Well Sir, you ha' no business it seems?  Craf. 
Odd I'll do my business, and let the old Fool dispose his greasy Bags as he has a mind; I care not, I'll pass the Rubicon, and be an't Caesar, aut nullus— I come then to tell thee such a story, as no Age, nor History, can do the like.  Ros. 
Ay, prithee let me hear that.  Craf. 
Ay, prithee let me hear that with a smile, many a Roman General has fought a Battle upon the encouragement of Birds that have not chirped half so prettily; Prithee let me hear that— And thou sweet Rogue, thou shalt—  Ros. 
The Bruit is drunk, and I never discerned it.  Craf. 
Then thou delicate Creature, I come to tell thee, I love and adore thee!  Ros. 
Love and adore me? what does the Coxcomb mean? but why should I consider the meaning of a Fool in drink?  Craff. 
Nay, my News does come wet out o' the Press, that's certain, 'tis delicate News, is't not? what sayest thou? Have I no Darts nor Arrows in my eye? prithee look upon me, nay, look if this Fantastic Woman will look upon me? prithee look upon me, I'm newly Shaved, and a Man looks like a notable smirk Rogue when he's Shaved, his face is like a Bowl new wiped, he may kiss the Mistress if he has any skill, and I'll try.  Ros. 
Sirrah, attempt any Rudeness to me, and I'll waken your Father, and ruin ye; I am amazed he should sleep thus!  Craff. 
I believe there is a Proclamation come out against sleeping, and the Rogue takes a nap to affront the Government, for nothing else could make a Whig quiet so long, that's certain.  Ros. 
So Sir, you are a Ranting Tory, begun you had best, before I waken your Father, and you who are now so full o' Wine, be turned out o' doors, and want Bread, consider that Sir.  Craff. 
How! when I have thee before my eyes, dost thou think I can consider a Crust? what a pitiful hungry thought was there?  Ros. 
Disinheriting then and starving, are nothing to thee.  Craff. 
I starve now, Love has disinherited my stomach, which, before I fell in love with thee, had as good a Title to meat as any stomach in Christendom, that is, if meat be made for stomaches, and now if I were to go to Law with a Chicken for Crumbs, he'd Cast me, I should ha' nothing to show for 'em, so that I must enjoy thee that I may eat again.  Ros. 
Enjoy me Sirrah! do you know who I am, you dare mention such 〈◊〉 Word before me?  Craff. 
Know thee! I, well enough.  Ros. 
Am not I your Father's Wife Sir?  Craff. 
And what of all that?  Ros. 
What of all that?  Craff. 
Thou thinkest I warrant I'll be frighted with Incest? with fee, fa, fum, I am not a Child to be scared from a Sack-Posset with a white fheet, if we must meddle with nothing that is a Kin to us, we must not eat or drink, for we are all near a Kin to our Victuals, but thou art no Kin to me, thou art only tacked to my Father's side by a Priest, and art no more my Mother then his Backsword is, for that's buckled to his side sometimes; Besides, I don't know whether he be my Father or no, I'm sure he is not fit for't.  Ros. 
Whatever I am to him or thee, 'tis sufficient I am nearly related to Virtue and Honour, and do not dare Sirrah, so much as to talk undecently before me.  Craff. 
Why dost thou talk undecently before me?  Ros. 
Who I?  Craff. 
Yes, thy eyes talk Bawdy, thou hast the wantonest eyes that ever I saw in my life: Give me a Kiss, give me a Kiss I say— the best you have in the house, won't you? I'll come to the Vessel myself then.  Ros. 
Bless me! Husband! Husband!  Craff. 
Let him wake if he dares.  Craff. chases her round Chairs, Florio Snorts. Ros. 
Oh Lord! what shall I do?  Craff. 
Ha! does he snort? let him snort again, he has neither Powder nor Shot in his Nose.  Knocking at the door, Craffy starts, Rosaura opens it. Enter Pietro. Piet 
Oh Madam! your Husband and the Bricklayer.  Ros. 
How! where are they?  Piet. 
Just coming into this Room.  Ros. 
Cannot your Master possibly get by?  Piet. 
Not possibly.  Ros. 
Oh misery! shame! death! what shall I do?  Craff. 
What's the matter Madam?  Ros. 
Ha! what comes into my head! I'll make this fool beat his Father out; (aside) Oh your Father will be Murdered, and I abused, here are Villains got into the house in Arms, one of them they say has a design upon my Person.  Craff. 
Your Person?  Ros. 
Ay, help us for Heaven's sake!  Craff. 
Where are they?  Ros. 
Just coming into this Room, beat 'em out o' the house, as you value your Father's life, and my Honour.  Craff. 
I'll do't.  Ros. 
Here they come.  Enter Podesta and Bricklayer, with Muskets and Blunderbusses at their backs, their Wastes stuck round with Pistols, Craffy knocks his Father down, Pietro gets down the Bricklayer, whilst they are Scuffling Rosaura conveys Florio away, and lays the Hat, Gown, and Perriwigg upon the Couch, as if one slept under 'em; after some rolling upon the Stage, Podesta gets Craffy undermost. Pod. 
Some one help me to kill this unnatural Rogue.  Br. 
No, take him alive I charge you, that we may know who put him upon this horrible damnable Plot, for this is as horrible a Plot as has been these thousand years.  Pod. 
Sirrah, who put you upon this horrible wickedness?  Craff. 
Sirrah, who put you upon the horrible wickedness of attempting this sweet Lady?  Pod. 
This Fellow's Drunk.  Ros. 
As Drunk as he is, he asks no impertinent Questions, nor has he committed any great Error in the ill-favoured Entertainment he has given you for entering my Husband's house in this armed posture, in these dangerous times, without giving me any notice what he has done, he did by my command, and I'll justify it.  Pod. 
This is a wise Woman.  Br. 
The Woman could not act wiser if she were my own Wife.  Pod. 
I'll reveal myself to her, Sweetheart I am your Husband.  Ros. 
Come Sir, lay aside your unseasonable and unmannerly mirth, these are no Rallying times, or if they were, you are not my equal at Repartee with me: But now I think on't, see what's become of my Husband some body, he has slept these two hours upon that Couch, and this rude Scuffle has frighted him away.  Piet. 
Indeed Madam, I fancy this is my Lord.  Pod. 
Sweetheart, upon my Honour I left my Gown, Hat, and Perriwigg upon that Couch, and there's no difference between the Lord Podesta and me but a Gown.  Craff. 
Then there is Roguery, for there lay a Fellow under that Gown. I'll swear I heard his Nose go.  Ros. 
He says true.  Pod. 
Bless me! here's a Plot.  Ros. 
Some of the French Pilgrims to Murder you, and burn your House.  Pod. 
Most certain, fetch a Regiment of the Militia, I'll have a Sentry at every door in my House, two at every Post of my Bed, and one under my Bolster.  Br. 
Search all the Tubs, Pots, Bottles, and Vessels in your House, for Gunpowder.  Pod. 
Yes, and I'll unpave the streets to see if the Stones be not Hand-Granadoes.  Ros. 
'Tis necessary, and I hope your Lordship will not blame me for defending your House, though you suffered something by it.  Pod. 
'Twas admirably done.  Br. 
Wisely, very wisely.  Pod. 
Like a Woman that knows Mankind.  Craff. 
Well, and shall I no praises have, That beat the Knave?  Pod. 
O 'twas very well done Craffy.  Br. 
Very well indeed.  Pod. 
But are not these Unhappy times,  
That I can take no Joy  
In such a Wife, and great Estate,  Craf. 
And such a Son as I.  [Exeunt.  

ACT IU.  

SCENE a Garden.  Enter Podesta, Bricklayer, Captain of the Militia, and two Soldiers. Pod. 
COme, Captain, place those two Soldiers behind those two Doors, and then my House will be too hot for a Knave.  Br. 
For the justification of our Proceed, we will print a Narrative of the Pilgrim under the Gown. As Paper, in Holland, passes for Money, Pamphlets with us pass for Religion and Policy: a bit of Paper in Holland, from a Man of Credit, takes up Goods here, pays Debts there; so a Pamphlet will take up Fools here, make Fools there. A Pamphliteer is the best Fool-maker in the Nation. And this Story well improved—  Pod. 
The Story's well enough, what need we lie to no purpose?  Br. 
By your favour, 'twill be to good purpose; a Lie will give it the stamp of our Party. Lies are the Supporters of our Arms, and the Great Seal of our Corporation.  Pod. 
If a Lie will do the Nation any Service, I shall not scruple.  Br. 
You would ha' no Reason; for that Lie that does as much good as Truth, is as good as true; Ergo, 'tis true. Quicquid est idem, est idem, is a Rule in Logic, but you know no Logic.  Pod. 
But I know a Rule in Divinity, that says, you are not to do Evil that Good may come thereby.  Br. 
Ay, that Good may come, and not come: but the Evil that does Good, is a Good Evil; but no Evil is Good, Ergo, 'tis no Evil at all: But there's no talking Logic to you, you don't understand it.  Enter a Man with Prisoners Basket, and Beggars. Pod. 
How now, what would you have?  Man. 
May it please your Honour, My Lord.  Br. 
Speak to me, I am my Lord, that is, I manage all  Man. 
It has always been a Custom for the new Lord Pod●st to send poor Prisoners some relief.  Br. 
It has been a Custom you say?  Man. 
Yes, Master.  Br. 
Is there any Law for it?  Man. 
Law, Master?  Br. 
Ay, for we will do nothing but according to Law.  Alan. 
You would not have poor Prisoners starve, Master  Br. 
Sir, if they starve according to Law, no body has any thing to say.  Man. 
That's hard, Master.  Br. 
Go, get you about your business.  Man. 
Pray Master.  2 Beg. 
I hope, Master, you will be kinder to us, Master.  Br. 
Why, what are you?  2 Beg. 
Honest, poor People, Master, that always used to have some broken Meats from my Lord Podesta's Table, and now we ha' not had one bit.  Br. 
Is there any Law for it?  1 Beg. 
Law, Master?  Br. 
Ay, for in plain Terms, we will do nothing for any body, that is not of our Party, but what we are forced to by Law.  1 Beg. 
We are all o' your Party, Master.  All the Beggars, and Man with the Basket. 
Ay, Master, we are all whigs, Master, we are all whigs.  2 Beg. 
Master, I polled for you.  3 Beg. 
I polled three times over, for my Lord; came in three several Coats, and past for three men.  Pod. 
Say you so? who employed you?  3 Beg. 
The Doctor, Master.  Man. 
And several of our Prisoners polled for my Lord. Master.  Pod. 
Well, give 'em halfpences a piece.  Omnes. 
Halfpences!— my Lord— halfpences!  Pod. 
Well, when my Year's out, I'll consider farther.  1 Beg. 
We shall starve in that time, Master.  Pod. 
Go, go, begun, the Bricklayer and I are consulting about Affairs of State, for the good of you all, how to secure your Religion and Property.  2 Beg. 
Our Property, Master?  Br. 
Go, go, you ha' no Property, nor, I think, Religion, you are idle Knaves— begun.  1 Beg. 
The Devil take you— a halfpenny Lord, is the Podesta's place worth but a halfpenny?  [Aside. 2 Beg. 
Plague rot you— a halfpenny Lord, I'd ha' seen the Devil have you, before I'd ha' chose you, if I had known.  [Aside. All. 
A half penny Lord— confound 'em damned Rebel Rogues, I hope to see 'em hanged.  [Exeunt Beg. and Man. Br. 
Now let us to Counsellor Bartoline's Chamber, to know his Opinion, concerning our Arming and Fortifying.  Pod. 
One Lawyer is positive against us.  Br. 
That's a Tory Fellow, I don't mind Tory Law.  Pod. 
But he spoke a great deal of Reason.  Br. 
I care not a Farthing for Reason, Law, nor Scripture, if they side with the Tories. I prefer Whigg-Nonsence, before Tory-Reason: But come.  [Exeunt. Enter a Gentleman; Bartoline and his Clerk at a little distance after. Gent. 
No body in the House here? O Sir, you are the Man I desire to speak with. I suppose you remember me?  Bar. 
I remember you? How should I remember all the People got come cho me?  Gent. 
'Tis strange you should forget me, 'tis not long since I put just such another Fee into your Hand, as this.  Bar. 
Odd sha' me! now you putch it incho my headge, I do remember you; you come from ye Vish roy.  Gent. 
I do so.  Bar. 
He is a worhy Genkleman, I shall be glad to sherve him.  Gent. 
The Business is, My Lord Podesta fortifies without his leave.  Bar. 
Doesh he? then hesh a Yebel, shay I shay it.  Gent. 
But is there no Clause in their Charter will bear 'em out?  Bar. 
Shir, if year be such a claush, 'twill overthrow yeir Charcher, 'twill argue the King was deshieved, so his Grant will be void; 'tish against ye Peyogative, ash I'll prove outch Common Law, and clea shatchute Law; and if I yond throw 'em on yeir backsh I'll hang for't, sho chell ye Vishroy— But I'll be privatsh.  Gent. 
I'll tell him.  [Exit Enter Podesta, and Bricklayer. Pod. 
O, here he is! come, Counsellor, we must speak with you.  Bar. 
You musht not, for I am very buishy.  Br. 
But these ten pieces must, and shall speak with you.  Bar. 
Why chruly, I have a great yeal o' buishnesh; but I have alsho a great kindnesh for boo you; for I think you are very honesht Men, and wish well to ye Nation, and have very good yeshignsh. And I will do you what kindnesh I can, I will ingeed. Well, come, your buishnesh— huh—  Br. 
May the Subject— Subject? I don't love that word Subject: But, come, may the Subject Fortify by Law, without leave?  Bar. 
May he wear a Shword by hish shide without leave? a shimple Shtory.  Pod. 
But a Lawyer told me the contrary.  Bar. 
'Twash not ye Lawyer, 'twash hish Fee; and Fees will shay any hang.  Pod. 
He said 'twas against clear Statutes.  Bar. 
Yersh not such hang ash a clea Shtachute, haunt we Law yersh the penning of 'em, and do you hink we won't make work for our shelu'sh? We hate a clea Shtachute, as a House-breaker yoesh a clea Night, I shpeak against my own Profession; for I'm an honesht Fellow, I am worth but shix housand a year, and I mightch ha' been worth twenchy, if I would ha' been a Knave; but I love cho make a Consciensh of what I shay, and do, I do ingeed, ingeed I do.  Br. 
But we are told that 'tis so against Law, that if there should be any such Power in our Charter 'twould argue the King was deceived, and overthrow the Charter.  Bar. 
If such a Power in your Charcher should overthrow it, 'twould argue the King had yeshieved you, mum, and who dares shay yat? yersh a chrick for you, yey chalk like Foolsh and Knaush, yey don't know what yey shay, let me alone widow you buishnesh, dee hea? but privately, very privately. Come along, come.  [Exit Bar. and his Clark. Pod. 
This is a notable old Fellow.  Br. 
I was of his Opinion.  Enter Rosaura. Ros. 
My Lord, will you continue those Guards and Sentries about your House?  Pod. 
Sweet Heart, to ask my Wisdom questions, is to question my Wisdom.  Ros. 
I confess, you have reason to stand upon your Guard: 'twere well the People knew it; and your Son Craffy has a Pen fit for the purpose.  Pod. 
He shall meddle no more with his Pen, it has almost moped him. I would give five hundred pound he had never seen a Pen in's Life; but I will take him from it before he's too far gone, and enter him into business: Here he is Powdered, a Feather in's Cap, and Catechising [Enter Craffy. his Face in a Glass; but it does not make him one wise answer, the Boy is spoiled.  Cra. 
Ay, this will do— This will do— Nature writ no good Hand when she penned me, because she wrote after a damned Copy, the Fool my Father; but this will mend some Letters. This will take my Mother.  Pod. 
Craffy.  Cra. 
Drunkenness, like a Hog in a Garden, rooted up my Flowers, but now the Tulips in my Face begin to lift up their Heads.  Pod. 
Craffy.  Cra. 
They do i' Faith.  Br. 
Why don't you come?  Pod. 
Let him alone, all this is not his folly, but mine, who have let him take more Poetry than his Brains would bear, and have ruined my Child; and though I say it, a delicate young Fellow.  Br. 
I fancy he's turned Amorous Fop, for he's broke out into a Feather, and all those Fooleries that trouble Lovesick People.  Ros. 
Indeed his Feather says some such thing.  Br. 
And I'll take the Feathers word.  Pod. 
Before mine? do not you teach me to know my own Boy, nor any thing. I'd give you a hundred pound I were an Ass.  Ros. 
You may have it cheaper.  [Aside. Pod. 
I mean in this, that I mistook the Boys Distemper. Lord, that I should let him spoil himself!  Ros. 
I have a mind to know his Contemplations. I'll go towards him.  Cra. 
Ha. my delicate Mother-in-law? I'm ready for her: I'll charge her with Smiles, Wit, Impudence, Modesty, Humility, all sorts of Weapons. First, with Humility upon my Knees. Most Sweet Dear— ha'! my Father behind— That old Fool is always in my way— How shall I get from my Knees again! The Devil take him. Most sweet dear, Madam, pray to Heaven to bless me— Pray, my Lord, pray to Heaven to bless me.  Pod. 
Bless thee?  Cra. 
Ay, to bless me.  Pod. 
What o' this time o' day.  Cra. 
A Blessing will do a Man no hurt at any time o' day.  Pod. 
Well, the Lord bless thee, and deliver thee from Poetry, say I, it has utterly spoiled thee: That ever I should let this Fellow tamper with Poetry. I could ha' made him— I don't know what— I could ha' made him such a Statesman, as these times could not ha' produced. These times, pitiful Fellows, the Statesmen o' these times were all starved at Nurse. Some of 'em were Foundlings, one found under a Rump, another was a Maggot in English Noll's Nose. A pack of strange Fellows they are all, in short, Craffy—  Cra. 
Most sweet Woman.  [Aside. Pod. 
You shall never Write nor Read more; but be a Man of Business.  Cra. 
Yes, Madam.  Pod. 
Madam?  Cra. 
Yes, my Lord, I mean—  Pod. 
Did you mind what I said to you?  Cra. 
No, Madam— yes, Madam,— Ay, my Lord, I mean.  Pod. 
Yes, Madam— Ay, my Lord— Sirrah, where are your Brains?  Cra. 
Brains Madam— my Lord, I mean.  Pod. 
In your Ink-Pot, Sirrah?  Cra. 
I'm now answering the Meddal.  Pod. 
I thought as much, the Devil take thy Poetry. Sirrah, meddle with Pen and Ink more if you dare.  Cra. 
Who must answer these things then? There's ne'er a man o' Wit of our Party, but myself, and my things are discommended. I know several People don't like my Hushai: That I intent to call my Poem, The Meddal Reversed, Written by him who was not the Author of Hushai, nor of any Pen writ of our side  Pod. 
Come, Poetry be hanged, and Prose too.  Br. 
Come, come, my Answer will be the best.  Pod. 
What's that?  Br. 
A Flail— if I meet with the Author in a convenient Place, I'll give him an Answer.  Pod. 
Yes; and, Sirrah, you shall never meddle with Pen, Ink, nor Book more, but be a Man o'business.  Cra. 
I shall be a pretty Man o' business, never Writ nor Read.  Pod. 
Sir, the greatest Politicians of our times, never Writ nor Read, as you may see by their Speeches.  
Come, Sirrah, you have Wit enough, and Courage too, and we have Business, and Enemies to employ both, insomuch I shall not dare to go to Bed to Night.  Cra. 
Sha'ned you? Then I'll dare to go thither in your stead: I have showed my Mother my Wit, I never showed her my Skin yet. I'll tempt her with that.  [Aside. Pod. 
I'll have you in the Head of a Party, go to Mount Vesuvio.  Cra. 
I'm resolved to steal to her when she's a Bed.  [Aside. Pod. 
Get a Horseback presently, d'ye hear?  Cra. 
Ay, my Lord, in a rich Night Gown, Point de Venice Shirt, and Velvit Slippers.  Pod. 
How, a Horseback in this Equipage? Do you know I bid you get your Horse?  Cra. 
Ay, my Lord, washed from head to Foot in Rose Water.  Pod. 
This is mockery, give me a Cane.  Cra. 
O good my Lord.  Br. 
Come, let him alone.  Pod. 
I will not.  Cra. 
What's the matter? what's the Matter?  Pod. 
What's the matter wi' your Brains, Sirrah? For when I come to one side of your Head, they shift o' t'other, that you never mind what I say. Get you gone you Rascal you.  Cra. 
Sweet Rogue, I'll be with thee at Night.  (Aside) [Exit. Pod. 
Would the Devil had had this Fellows Poetry: A Gentleman may carry a little of it for an Ornament and Pleasure, as a Lady carries an Orange in her hand, but to have a Fool carry a great Basket on his Head, like a Costardmonger; and break his Brains.  Enter Florio panting, Pietro leading him. Flor. 
Clamb'ring up these Stairs, has almost spent me; I'm ready to tumble down dead.  Pod. 
Poor Man, how bad he is!  Ros. 
I wonder he's come abroad!.  Br. 
'Tis pity, he's a pretty Fellow.  Flo. 
My good Lord, I beg your Pardon a thousand times for the Liberty and Confidence I take in your House.  Pod. 
You are very welcome, good Mr. Florio.  Ros. 
You may believe my Lord, Sir, he's your very humble Servant.  Flor. 
Your Servant, good Madam. Why truly, we sick People take upon us a strange Authority, I know not by what Commission. I▪ think 'tis because Sickness is Heaven's Messenger, and when a Man is upon the Road in a Messenger's Hands, all People give way, and I am riding Post.  Enter Doctor Panchy. Doct. 
Where are you all? where are you all?  Pod. 
What's the matter?  Doct. 
Who says there are no Plots?  Br. 
He that has a mind to be hanged.  Pod. 
As he shall be. He that will not believe in the Doctor, must expect no Salvation in this Life.  Ros. 
What's the Plot, good Doctor?  Dr. 
Only to cut your Husband's Throat, and all our Throats, that's all.  Ros. 
Oh, you ha' struck me dead, some help, I faint.  Pod. 
Good Creature, she's swooning; who's there?  Enter womans. Wom. 
My Lord.  Pod. 
Your Lady swoons.  Dr. 
Carry her away, don't let us be troubled with Women.  Pod. 
Take her into the fresh Air, and give her some strong Water; and, do you hear? bring me some privately.  [Ex. Women with Ros. Br. 
Come, the Plot.  Dr. 
What do you think the Tory Rogues have done? they have met with our Paper of Association.  Br. 
What care we for that?  Dr. 
Ay, but they have drawn up one among themselves, in imitation of ours, cast one in our own Mould, taken our own words, and discharge 'em upon us.  Br. 
The Devil!  Dr. 
As you shall hear: We, the Loyal, etc. finding to the grief our Hearts, a certain sort of People, consisting of Hobbists, Atheists, fanatics, and Republicans, have for several years last passed, pursued a pernicious Plot, to root out the true Religion, subvert our Laws and Liberties, and set up Arbitrary Power.  Br. 
Well, and what of all this?  Flo. 
Pray hear.  Dr. 
And it being notorious, that they have been highly encouraged by the countenance and protection given 'em by the Rabble, and by their expectations of the said Rabble coming to the Government. It appears also to us, that for these Designs, Ignoramus Garrisons have been established among us, by whose assiance these Men have laid a Blockade before the Crown itself, denying it all relief, unless 'twill own itself a dependence upon them.  Br. 
All this is true, and we are not ashamed of it.  Pod. 
Go on.  Dr. 
And we considering with heavy Hearts, how greatly the Reputation and Honesty of the Kingdom hath been wasted, in maintaining the said Garrisons: And finding the same Counsels, after exemplary Justice upon some of the Conspirators, to be still pursued with the utmost Devilish Malice, and desire of Revenge, whereby his Majesty is in continual hazard, to be destroyed, to make way for the said Rabbles advancement to the Crown.  Br. 
Well, and what of all this?  Pod. 
Have patience.  Dr. 
The whole Kingdom in such case, being destitute of all security of their Religion, Laws, Estates, and Liberties: Sad experience in the Case, the Rump Committee of Safety, Nol and Dick in England: And Massianello here, having proved the wisest Laws to be of little force to keep out Tyranny under no Prince, or no lawful Prince.  Br. 
I would we had 'em.  Dr. 
We have, therefore, several times endeavoured in a legal way, by Indictments, to bring the said Criminalts to condign Punishment; but being utterly rejected, and brought almost to despair, we bind ourselves one to another, jointly and severally, in the Bond of one Firm and Loyal Society, and Association: And do solemnly Vow, Promise, and Protest to demolish the said Ignoramus Garrisons, which are kept up in and about this City, to the great Terror and Amazement of all the good People in the Land.  Br. 
And shall be in spite of 'em.  Dr. 
And utterly destroy all that shall seek to set up the said Rabble's pretended Title, or shall raise any War, Tumult, or Sedition in his behalf, or by his Command, as public Enemies, to our Laws, King, Religion, and Country, and this on penalty of being esteemed such ourselves. Witness our Hands.  Pod. 
Are there any Names to it?  Dr. 
Only Nicknames to know one another by: As Loyal Domestic Absalon, and Achitophel, Tory Coffee-house, Towzer, Heraclitus, and such Names, forty thousand.  Br. 
Oh, we have six times their Number.  Dr. 
Pray hear the Postscript: Persons to be destroyed, Imprimis the Podesta.  Pod. 
Am I to be Murdered Imprimis? bloody Rogues.  Dr. 
Then the Doctor: And why after him, unmannerly Rascals?  Pod. 
Why after me? Sure, good Doctor, you won't dispute precedency with me.  Dr. 
But I will, good Podesta, with you, or any Man in Christendom; what the Devil are you?  Pod. 
What am I?  Dr. 
Ay, if you compare yourself with me, you are a Fop.  Pod. 
Fop! You are an unmannerly Fellow.  Dr. 
How! ho! call one of my Men some body. Seru. Sir.  [Enter a Servant. Dr. 
Go bid the Archbishop of Naples come to me, I'll make his Fortunes.  Br. 
Nay, nay, Doctor, Doctor.  Pod. 
He means, bid the Archbishopric of Naples come to him, but it won't come, Doctor.  Dr. 
You are a Rascal.  Pod. 
Call a Constable.  Flo. 
Gentlemen, Gentlemen, are you out of your Wits, to quarrel who should be murdered first? I need care for it as little as you, I shall lose as few days; for shame reconcile, pray reconcile.  Dr. 
Then let him not play the Coxcomb, if the Pope disparage me, I'd say he were a Rascal.  Br. 
Well, well, the Podesta respects you, Doctor, give him your hand.  Dr. 
Give him my hand first? I'd scorn to do't if he were a Prince.  Br. 
Then give him your hand, Podesta.  Pod. 
Well come, Mr. Panchy.  Dr. 
Mr. Panchy?  Pod. 
Doctor I mean, come Doctor.  Dr. 
Then come Podesta.  Flo. 
So, this is well, now let us know whose Throat is to be cut next.  Dr. 
The Bricklayers and yours: Cum multis aliis quae nunc prescribere longum est.  Flo. 
Will they cut mine? They may spare their pains: well we had more need go to Prayers than Quarrel. Pray Doctor.  Dr. 
Pray, Fool's Head! what should we pray for? That's like your Papists, who think to keep off Devils with Holy Water, as if a Devil were like a Cat, he could not endure to wet his Foot: These Devils are best driven away with Firelocks.  Br. 
You are in the right, Doctor.  Flo. 
I'm sure our Cause is in the right.  Br. 
We have a hundred thousand Men, and they are always in the right: Set me in the Head of such a general Counsel, and I'll be Pope, the only infallible Judge.  Pod. 
Ay, and have what forms of Worship you will; when a Canons the Preacher, who dare shut up the Conventicle, and nothing opens and divides a Text like Gunpowder.  Flo. 
Heaven turn these wicked Men, I love their Souls.  Br. 
Heaven turn 'em, out of the Kingdom, for I love their Lands; that's my way of turning my Adversaries; and I'll set 'em part o' their way to Night: I'll shove the whole Town against 'em that shall be my business.  [Exit. Pod. 
I'll go arm myself, and then watch upon the Battlements.  Dr. 
I'll go with you.  [Exeunt Pod. Doct. Capt. of the Militia. Flo. 
I'll to my Devotions: That is to your Wife— if I knew where she was.  Enter Rosaura. Ros. 
Not far off.  Flo. 
I might ha' guessed it by the sudden gaeyty of all things, the whole Face of Nature smiled on her sweet favourite.  Ros. 
Upon the ridiculous Cuckold, and his wise Companions, which you have finely fooled; for was not this Paper yours, Sir?  Flo. 
It was.  Ros. 
What a Ghost every Shadow appears to a guilty Conscience: Therefore I had not best consent to your Murder of my Honesty, for I shall never sleep for fear of the discovery; and you Men commonly boast of those Murders, and cast a brazen Image of the dead Creature in an impudent Libel.  Flo. 
If this be not privately buried, it shall be your own fault.  Ros. 
It shall be yours, for I have provided a Chapel fit for the Work, this Garden-house.  Flo. 
Then will I be a second near▪ I have put all my City in a Flame.  
And now, with Harp in Hand, I will survey  
My burning Rome, and whilst it burns I'll play.  Ros. 
Then Nero take thy Harp into thy Hand,  
The tuneful Strings will follow thy Command:  
Now equal Orpheus in thy Art Divine,  
Make all things round thee Dance, with one sweet touch of thine,  [Exeunt.  

SCENE continues.  Enter Bartoline with artal. Bar. 
Come, pray come in, Sir, ingeed I love your Companey mighchily. Come, how isht wi' you, Shir?  Art. 
Better and better, Sir, that is to say, worse and worse, nearer my end, which I hope will be the better for me.  Bar. 
Ay, yer'sh no doubt on't, Shir, you're a very good young Genkleman.  Art. 
Not so good, as I ha' been bad, Sir.  Bar. 
'Tish no great matcher, Shir, we have all been bad; one chime or anoyer.  Art. 
Not so bad as I, Sir, the Devil is not, cannot be so bad as I, he cannot drink, can he, Sir?  Bar. 
Why chruly, Sir, I believe notch, I yont know what he can go, I yont chrouble myself much wid him.  Art. 
I was one of the Devil's Low-Countries, always under a Flood: the Devil cannot Whore, Sir, neither, can he?  Bar. 
I yont know, Shir, in chroth, but I believe in general heisha great Rashcal.  Art. 
I have not only debauched Women, but the whole Age, poisoned all its Morals, murdered thousands o' young Consciences, sung others asleep, pumped others with Drunkenness, Sin I Honoured and Privileged as a Peer to the Devil, Heaven I affronted, Libelled his Court, and in my drunken Altitudes have endeavoured to scour the whole Creation of Souls and Spirits, now is it fit I should be saved?  Bar. 
Ay, why not, Shir, yo'nt chrouble your shelf wi' yosh mattchersh.  Art. 
I doubt I trouble you, Sir, with my tedious Discourses?  Bar. 
Oh no Shir ye'y are ve'y goodg ingeed: I never heardg a Parshon chalk sho well in a Pulpit, and I hear 'em shomechimes.  Art. 
Don't you go always to Church, Sir?  Bar. 
Yesh, Shir, but we Law yesh are sho employed all th', Week, y'at we may be excushed if we chake a Nap a Shunday at a Shermon.  Art. 
You should not neglect the business of your Soul, Sir.  Bar. 
No chruly, Shir, but we have a great yeale of business, a great yeale of business.  Art. 
I do believe so, Sir, therefore I don't know how I can with any Confidence beg the favour of you to be one of my Executors.  Bar. 
O yesh shir, I'll find a chime for yat I wayant you, pray employ me, Shir.  Art. 
Thank you, good Sir, I will endeavour to reward your trouble.  Bar. 
O good Shir, what you pleash, I shall be glad of any ●hoken of you love.  Art. 
I have drawn up some Heads of a Will.  Bar. 
You have y'one mighchy wishly, Shir.  Art. 
Will you please to look over it, Sir, as also some deeds of my Estate, whilst I lay me down? For I am very faint: Shall I borrow your Bed, Sir?  Bar. 
Ay, with all my Heart, Shir, Lushenda, Girl.  Luc. 
Husband.  [Enter Lucenda Bar. 
Why give come wi'out a Godly Book in your Hand, when you know how hesh inclined?  (Aside. Luc. 
I ha' none, you must lend me one out of your Study.  Bar. 
I ha' none in my Shtudy, ne've hadg one in my Life, we Lawyesh yead not Yivinichy— Buy one [Aside.] Come chake yish poo Genkleman, and lay him upon our Bedg, and cover him warm, and shit by him, and give hear, chalk Goly to him; hesh making his Will, you yont know how you may win upon him.  [Aside. 
Pray Shir go in, and I'll go cho my Shtudy, and come chee in a minute.  Art. 
Pox o' thy haste, [Aside. I'm in no haste, Sir, take your time.  Bar. 
No, no, I won't shtay shir, but pray let me lead you, for you are very weak.  Art. 
Oh, not Sir.  Bar. 
Pray Shir, let me.  Exit. Art. led by Bar. and Luc.  

SCENE continues:  Enter Craffy. Cra. 
What new alarum's this? And I'm enquired after to be made an Ass on; and sent on some silly Errand, and so shan't come at my Mother to Night: Pox, I'll ha' none o' these Foolish do: I'll get out o'the way; and now I think on't, I'll hid myself in this Room; how now, the Doors shut, there's somebody in the Room sure. I'll peep— I'm shot— I'm shot— I'm shot—  [Throws himself down and raves. Enter Podesta, Doctor, Captain of the Militia, Soldiers, Bricklayer first. Br. 
What's the matter? what's the matter? what's the News?  Cra. 
I'm shot, I'm shot, I'm shot.  Br. 
Guard, Guard, Guard, Train-bands, Podesta, Podesta, come hither all quickly.  Pod. 
Bless us, what's the matter?  Br. 
Your Son's killed.  Pod. 
My Son killed?  Cra. 
I'm shot— I'm shot— I'm shot.  Pod. 
Oh, where, where, where, poor Child— poor Boy.  Cra. 
To the very Soul, to the very Soul.  Pod. 
Oh my poor Boy, my poor Boy! who shot thee, and where are the Murderers?  Dr. 
Who should, but the Associating Bully Tories.  Cra. 
Ay, ay, Associators, Associators.  Pod. 
Dr. Br. Oh, Rogues, Villains!  Car. 
A Whore and a Rascal are Associated in that Room, I mean your Wife and Florio are there joined in one close abominable Bond of lewdness, and Cuckold you, as if they were to be hanged if they did not dispatch it in a minute; the sight has shot me to my Soul, my Soul.  Pod. 
How, Sirrah, have you invented such a notorious Shame as this, to set me at variance with my Wife, and my Friend? and to buzz me wi' Domestic Confusions, that I might not ha' my Brains at liberty, for the public? Is it possible?  Dr. 
Sirrah, you are a Traytorly Rogue.  Cra. 
I'll call you as much out of your Name, Sirrah, you are a Doctor of Divinity.  Br. 
Sirrah, you are an Associating Tory.  Cra. 
Sirrah, you are an Hermaphrodite, Compounded of to Sexes, Verse and Prose, and engender with neither.  Br. 
Sirrah, I make better Verses than yourself: and Verses is all that you are good for: I make Officers and Jurymen, And Evidences, and Pictures, and Poppetts, and as good Verses as you into the bargain. I made your Father what he is. That you are an ungrateful Fellow to be thus saucy with me.  Pod. 
Come Sirrah, you are a notorious Parricide, and plot with Traitors against your Own Father.  Cra. 
Father you are an abominable Cuckold, and plot with him that makes you one, against your Own Son: I will swear Florio is in that Room aboard your Vessel and stealing all your Customs: And here you stand upon the Key and let him.  Pod. 
I will break open the door to show thou art a Rascal.  Br. 
Are you mad. Is not this a plain Shame Plot? here are either Traitors or Treasonable Papers, and they will be found and laid to your charge.  Pod. 
You speak with a great deal of Prudence; And I'll guard the door with my life, for my Honour is Concerned.  Cra. 
Your honour is concerned, for you're made a Cuckold.  Pod. 
The Honour of my Loyalty is Concerned; for Sirrah you would make a Traitor of me: that you might hang me and get my Estate.  Cra. 
I will call a Guard. Break open the door, and show that you are a Cuckold, the Doctor Bricklayer, a Couple of Pimps. And I see a Guard go by: Guard, Guard, Guard! Treason, Treason, Treason!  Pod. 
Nay then Militia, Militia, Militia, keep this door here, Treason, Treason.  Cra. 
Why who the Devil's able to bear this. Give me a Pike I'll force my way in.  Pod. 
Nay then Give me a Pike.  Cra. 
Oh Cuckold, Cuckold; Wittol, Wittol.  Pod. 
Oh unnatural Monster!  Doct. 
Villain.  Br. 
Tory.  Pod. 
Hold Gentlemen, I have considered of it: Because this Fellow is so insolent; and potsiive and may report the worl●● hinder Truth from coming to light, to clear the Honour of myself, my Wife, and my Friend, I will open the door in the presence of you all, and you shall see what's there: And so Gentlemen all bear witness.  Br. 
You shall not open the door.  Pod. 
I will.  Br. 
You shall not.  Dr. 
He shall— Break Open the door.  Pod. 
Break open the door.  Enter Bartoline. Bar. 
What are you all madge? are we in Beglam here? you a Magishchrate, and shuffer such dishorgersh as yesh in you housh, you may be ashamed: if you ha' no yegard cho your own cregit, ha' shome pitchy on a poo Genkleman almost murgered by the Noish you make. your own friend Mishe Florio.  Pod. 
Florio! why where is he?  Bar. 
Upon my bedg, giving up the Ghosht.  Dr. 
So Sirrah, and you say he is in this room.  Cra. 
Giving up the Ghost upon that old Follo'ws Bed?  Bar. 
Now the sham-plot's plain.  Cra. 
Then he has given up the Ghost, and I saw his Ghost in this Room.  Pod. 
And has Wife given up the Ghost too, Sir?  Cra. 
I don't know, but if they were Ghosts, they were the lewdest Ghosts that ever I saw.  Br. 
Come, Sirrah, confess your Rogueries.  Cra. 
What Rogueries? Is it Treason to be mad? If he be there, my Wits are not here; I'm cracked, and there's an end.  Bar. 
Sho, shcolding again? I shuppose he'll conshiger your Shivilitiesh in hish Will, which he's now a making.  [Exit. Pod. 
So, Sir, we shall lose all our Legacies through your Roguery; come ask him pardon on your Knees.  Br. 
I'm cruel afraid he'll die before we come; let's go quickly, quickly.  [Exeunt Omnes. Florio and Rosaura coming out of the Room where they were hid. Flo. 
Ha! gone! this was good Fortune, away to thy Chamber, my Dear.  Ros. 
And do you go home.  [Exeunt. Enter Artal. Art. 
Pox on't, my pretty Opportunity is cast away in a Storm; I must make t'other Voyage: I venture boldly into the Dominion of these Arbitrary Rogues, who have a strange absolute Authority over their own Consciences, in Lying and Swearing: But Love, Love, Love.  [Exit Enter Podesta, Bricklayer, Doctor, Crafty, Barroline, Lucinda, Militia. Bar. 
Gone away in dishconchent?  Luc. 
No, but in great pain, he said his Head was torn in pieces.  Bar. 
Well, I shall be no loosher, he knowsh 'twash not my fault. Come away Girl.  [Exeunt Bar. and 〈◊〉 Br. 
Now I'll see what's in this House; Fellow Soldiers Guard me in, and have a care o' me.  [Ex. Br. and soldiers Enter Waiting-woman. Wom. 
My Lord, my Lady's extremely discomposed with the fright she had about your Lordship, and begs there may not be so much noise, it almost kills her.  Pod. 
Poor kind Heart, where is she?  Wom. 
In her Chamber upon her Bed.  Pod. 
So, Sir, and you said she was in this Room.  Cra. 
Well, I'm mad, and there's an end.  Pod. 
Tell her there shall be no noise made.  Enter Bricklayer and Soldiers. Br. 
There's nothing in this Room.  Pod. 
Nothing?  Br. 
Nothing.  Dr. 
What do you say to this, Sirrah?  Cra. 
That thou art an Ass to talk to a Madman, for my Wits ha' given me the slip all o'th' sudden; I don't know how, nor which way.  Pod. 
Truly I'm convinced he says true, and my Hearts ready to break.  Br. 
I am partly o' that mind; for in the Room is no sign of a Sham-plot.  Dr. 
He does look wildly, that's the truth on't.  Pod. 
He's mad, he's mad, and I ha' lost my Child, my dear child, my poor Child.  Cra. 
Well, well, poor Father, don't take on so, my Wits are not gone far, they ' l come again, I warrant 'em, for I don't know who the Devil will entertain 'em, they were mad sort o' Wits, and they are as mad that entertain a Poet's Wits.  Pod. 
Oh curse, curse on Poetry, that ever I should let thee meddle with it, my poor Boy.  Cra. 
Nay, prithee Father don't take on thus, thou'lt make me cry too.  Pod. 
I am so grieved, that I will eat and drink and sleep, and never mind what becomes o' the World.  Br. 
Fie, fie, you won't be so wicked as that.  Pod. 
Wherefore should I trouble myself, when I have no body to inherit my Labours?  Br. 
You ha' Friends enough, the Doctor, and I another.  Pod. 
Puh, a Child's above all: done't we see old Politicians venture their Necks for half a Child, a Changeling? And I have lost a Boy worth millions, millions; and so I'll enjoy myself till my Heart breaks, and there's an end.  Br. 
Come, come, leave off this.  Pod. 
No, I remember a saying of a Wise man:  
Who plays the Knave t' enrich his Son, a Fool,  
Is like a Fox that ventures for a Prey,  
To bury it in some poor dirty hole,  
And feed an Idle Dog, that trots that way:  
The Beast is torn with fruitless pain and care,  
And hanged at last to make his Foe his Heir.  
I shall play the Knave, and be hanged for a mad Son, and so have a Tory; beg my Estate, No, no, no.  Exit Br. 
Let's after him, and get him out of this humour.  Exeunt.   

ACT V.  

SCENE the House  Enter Artal. Art. 
I Am strangely taken with this sweet young Creature, 'tis so pleasant to drink at such a fresh Spring, which never Brute defil'd, or muddied: This old Fellow is but a withered Tree, that shades it; 'tis so much wholesomer to love then the sophiistcated Beauties o' this Town, which sicken and kill an Intrigue in few days. Ha! where's my Gown and Capt. I came in such amorous haste, I forgot my sick dress, and I shall never be able to act my sick part without it; but I ha' no patience to go back for't now— Here she comes! My Dear! where's the old Devil that would hinder our happiness? Old Tempter I [Enter Lucinda will not call him.  Luc. 
I will not tell you.  Art. 
But you do.  Luc. 
What?  Art. 
That he's abroad, your Smiles say it; those Birds would be gone, if that Winter were here. They say he won't come home a great while.  Luc. 
You are a Witch I think  Art. 
We'll lose no time.  Luc. 
Fie! Fie! you must not do such things as these.  Enter Bartoline, and his Clerk. Cler. 
O Sir! here's a Gentleman kissing my Mistress.  Bar. 
How?  Luc. 
Oh dear, my Husband!  Art. 
Sirrah, you lie; unsayed again, or you are a dead Rogue.  Cler. 
No, no, Sir you did not indeed Sir, I mistook, this is the sick Gentleman, Mr. Florio.  Bar. 
How? a shick man kish my Wife?  Art. 
No, no, I am not the sick man.  Bar. 
What are you, then? call shomebody; cho sheize the Rogue.  Art. 
Yes, yes, I am the sick man— I don't know what am, a pox.  Bar. 
Yesh, yesh, I know what you are, a Raschcal; and you choo have abused me, a yamned Rogue and Shlut.  Art. 
No, no Sir—  Bar. 
Why do you geny your shelf then?  Art. 
Sir, I was afraid you might be jealous, because I was whispering in your Lady's Ear, my Lungs being weak.  Bar. 
Your Lungsh weak, and huff, and rant like a Bully▪ ah! you are Rogue.  Art. 
That was only a sudden blast of Zeal for your good Lady's reputation and mine, 'twill shorten my days. I han't above a Month to live, and I have spent a fortnight's Breath before hand.  Bar. 
Oh you Rashcal! have I catched you in your chricksh● ha' you sherved me shush.  Art. 
Why do you censure so rashly? I appeal to your Lat dy.  Bar. 
Make a partchy Judge? no you have put choo goodg a Fee in you hand, cho let her bechray your Caush.  Luc. 
You wrong me extremely.  Bar. 
I wronged my shell, cho entcher incho Bondsh of Marriage, and could not perform Covenantsh, I might well think you would chake the for●eychure of the Bond, and I never found equichy in a Bedg in my Life: But I'll trounce you boo, I have paved Jaylsh wi' the Bonesh of honester People then you are, yat neve ' did me nor any Man any wrong, but had Law o' yeir shydsh, and right o' yeir shydsh, but cause yey had not me o' yeir shydsh, I ha' beggared 'em, ' hrown 'em in Jaylsh, and got yeir Es●chatsh for my Clyentsh, yat had no more chytle to 'em then Dogsh.  Art. 
And were you a good Man in that?  Bar. 
I wash a good Lawyer, and sho you shall find cho your cosht, we ' in yish twelvemonth you shall not be worth a groatch.  Art. 
Oh, I have too good a Title to what I have.  Bar. 
Chytle? I value not your Chytle: Beggarsh ha' not sho many chricksh, cho make shorsh in yeir Bodyesh, ash we have cho make 'em in Chytlesh. But I'll chell you what, I'll draw you up an exshellent Chytle cho the Jail; and if you have any Children, I'll shettle it upon you and your Heirsh for ever; a Jail shall be the Sheet of your Family. Odd sha' me, if any brishke Rogue would cut hish ' Hroat neatley, and privateley, yat nothing might appear against him but Shircumshansesh, I'd bring him off, proviged it be not a shimple Rogue, yat wantsh Money.  [Aside. Art. 
At this rate, your Wife shall be never the better for the Settlement you have made upon her.  Bar. 
No, no more than I am the betcher for the Shettlement the Priesht hash made of her upon me, the Devil chake him for hish painsh, would I could find a slaw in't.  Art. 
Now thou makest me angry, thou ungrateful Knaves suppose she and I have sinned, hast thou got an Estate in the Devil's Service, and wouldst thou hinder his work.  Bar. 
Oh! you impugent Whoremashcher!  Art. 
Sirrah, you have made more Whores than ever I did.  Bar. 
I make Whorsh?  Art. 
Yes, thou hast debauched whole Families by beggaring 'em, made Father and Mother's Bawds to their own Daughters, to earn that Bread thou hast cheated 'em off.  Bar. 
You lie, you lie; but if I have, I only followed my chrade.  Art. 
Well, and it may be my Trade is Whoring, and I'll follow that▪  Bar. 
Fellow it wi' your own Commoditchyesh then, and done't meggle wi' mine.  Art. 
No more I ha' not, your Clerk is a lying Fellow, and your Lady a virtuous young Woman▪ and my near Kinswoman; and since you abuse her, I'll take her into my protection: Come, Cousin—  Bar. 
Oh brave Rogue! he chaksh away my Wife before my Faysh: Shirrah, I'll ha' forty Actionshes on you back preshently.  Art. 
Then in a little time will I have forty Swords at your Throat, French Swords, I'll let in the Enemy, and cut the Throats of such Rogues as you, who abuse your Trade, and like so many Padders, make all People deliver their Purse, that ride in the Road of Justice. Better be ruled by the Swords of gallant Men, than the Mercenary Tougues of such Rascals as you are.  Bar. 
Bear witnesh, Chreashon, Chreashon, horrible Chreashon.  Art. 
I defy thee, do thy worst; I am Florio, Prince of Whigs, never without a chosen Lifeguard of Jurymen, with brazen Consciences, proof against Oaths, like Bucklers against Arrows. So, come away, Cousin— Now will this Rogue fall on Florio.  [Exeunt Art. and Luc. Bar. 
Oh impugent yamned Rogue; Shirrah, be sure you yemember all yish Chreashon, ha' you a good memory?  Cle. 
Yes, Sir.  Bar. 
I mean a ferchile memory, will a ' hang grow in it?  Cle. 
I'll remember enough to hang Florio, I'll warrant him I'll remember all he said.  Bar. 
And more choo. And becaush the Rogue runsh away wi' my Wife, he'll shay, I proshecute him out o' Malish; sho if no Body swearesh against him, but you and I, the Rashcal may come off: yerefore we musht look out for an Evidensh or choo more. Go cho shome able Atchurney, they are acquainched with 'em all, I'll look out for shome my shelf, and run my for Lord Chief Jushchishesh Warrant, cho apprehend yish Rash●all Go quickly, quickly.  [Exeunt Bar. Cle.  

SCENE continues.  Enter Podesta, Rosaura, Florio, Doctor, Bricklayer. Ros. 
Impudent, lying, perjured Villain, accuse me of being a secret Strumpet?  Flo. 
And me of being your Gallant? I'm in a sine condition to be a Gallant to a fair Lady.  Ros. 
All's one, Malice will believe it, and I, though innocent, shall live in reproach  Flo. 
Not long, Madam, not above a Week; my Doctor has confessed to me, I shall die some day next Week, and then I suppose this Story will die too.  Pod. 
How! are you to die next Week?  Flo. 
Yes, a great Lady will call for me, the only Lady in the World, I have an Intrigue withal.  Pod. 
What Lady?  Flo. 
The Moon, my Lord, the Moon; she has an Intrigue with my Body, and never puts on new clothes, but at my Cost: she means to be very fine about Thursday come seven-night▪ that is to say, in the Full; and then the World will see if my bankrupt Body be able to carry on such a Trade.  Ros. 
All's one, Sir, if you were dead, Malice would live and entertain Censure.  Pod. 
Well Sweet heart, as long as I don't entertain it, you need not troubled.  Ros. 
I confess, if I have the comfort of your Love—  Bri. 
You have, you have, Woman; don't make more fiddle faddle then needs, and hinder us from business of consequence.  Pod. 
Sweetheart, no body takes a Degreein my University, but they perform their Exercises, which you two have done, I have had experience of your Virtues, and pronounce you both innocent. All the Shame and Grief is mine, that my only Son, the Pillar of my Family is cracked or rotten, mad or a Knave: I say he is mad.  Dr. 
I say he is a suborned Rascal:  Br. 
I'm o' the Doctor's mind.  Pod. 
I'll give you an unanswerable reason to the contrary.  Dr. 
What's that?  Pod. 
I never discovered it, not so much as in the Boys Face, and I'll see through such a Boy as he, as plain as through a new-laid Fgg. The oldest Face shall no more cheat me, than old Coin does an Antiquary.  Dr. 
And what am I? an Owl.  Pod. 
I don't say you are.  Br. 
You two will kindle again.  Pod. 
No, the Boy shall decide the difference, I ha' sent for him; here he comes.  Enter Servant's with Crafty. Cra. 
This Woman is a Whore, and I was in the right.  [Aside. Pod. 
What say you now? does not the Madman peep through all his Looks and Gestures?  Dr. 
I'll examine him— Sirrah.  Cra. 
Hold your prating— damned Whore.  [Aside. Pod. 
d'ye see? stark mad.  Dr. 
Who suborned you to accuse your Mother of bei●ng Prostitute to Florio?  Cra. 
Who suborned you to accuse the Title of Doctor of Divinity, of being a Prostitute to such an ignorant Ass?  Dr. 
Sirrah, I am a Scholar, and you are an ignorant, saucy, pragmattical Rascal.  Cra. 
Nay, if Rogue and Rascal be Latin and Greek, thou art the best Scholar in Christendom, for no Man living is so ver●● in those Languages.  Dr. 
When I use those Languages, I, like Adam, give every Beast 〈◊〉 proper Name.  Cra. 
And when I call thee ignorant Coxcombs, I give thee no other Name then thy own Sermons do. That thou art an insolent Fool, is the only true Doctrine thou preachest.  Pod. 
Is he mad, or no?  Bri. 
He is more Knave, than Fool, Sirrah, don't you abuse the Doctor.  Cra. 
How do I know 〈◊〉 a Doctor, we have only his word for it, nor that neither when he Preaches.  Dr. 
Sirrah, I'll hang you.  Cra. 
Ay, thou art a Doctor at that.  Dr. 
Ay, and of Divinity too, you impudent Rascal.  Cra. 
Where did you take your Degree in, Beargarden?  Dr. 
In a learned University, Sir.  Cra. 
I, the University of Coffeehouses, the University of Lies, where, if any one speaks Truth, the University 〈◊〉 its Charter. ●here thou'rt a Doctor, and the Bricklayer principal Fellow of a College.  Bri. 
Don't you meddle wi' me, you malapert boy you, the greatest Lords and Politicians of the Kingdom, of our Party, won't be so saucy wi' meas you are, but Court me, and are proud o' me, and depend upon my Counsel and Countenance.  Cra. 
Depend on thy Countenance! They have 〈◊〉 dependence— damned confounded Woman? great with a Rascal [Aside. Gnawed with Diseases, till he's as enomous as a chawed ●ullet▪ and refuse me— Jilt▪ I'll make her great with me.  Pod. 
You see what sallies of madness he has of Craffy! but to what purpose should I speak to him? Craffy, if you have any understanding; say whether you saw your Mother in the Garden house wi' Florio, or not?  Cra. 
Why I will swear that—  Pod. 
Look upon her.  Cra. 
She's the handsomest Woman in the World, what Breasts she has!  Pod. 
The handsomest Woman? what's that to the business? Is not this distraction, Gentlemen? Answer to the question, did you see her in the Garden-house with Florio?  Cra. 
I'll see her there with me, or I'll— [Aside. Hark you, Gentlewoman, you know I saw you there; I have three Witnesses to swear it; meet me there, I'll bring you oft.  [Aside. Ros. 
Your Witnesses are perjured Rascals, and you are an Ass, who abuse me just now I'm coming to have more inclination for you, than my Conscience will admit of.  Cra. 
Sayest thou so— [Aside. I did not see her there, I did not.  Pod. 
Then thou art mad.  Cra. 
Will you meet me there?  [Aside. Ros. 
Perhaps I may, if you'll be civil.  Cra. 
Delicate Rogue.  [Aside. 
Now I swear I did not see her there, but that damned Rascal I did see there; an impudent rotten Fellow, that has never a sound bit about him, of his own, but is inlaid like a Cabinet: that he should dare to kiss and embrace such a delicate Woman as my Mother, there.  Pod. 
Why, did he?  Cra. 
Did he? ay, a hundred times, I saw him, a Rascal.  Pod. 
And yet just now, you said she was not there.  Ros. 
How now? was I there?  Cra. 
I forget myself— (Aside.) No faith she was not there.  Pod. 
How could he embrace her then?  Cra. 
In his fancy, I saw her in his Fancy, as plain as could be, he has a huge fancy for her.  Pod. 
Fancy, Lord help thee Boy, thou hast strange fancies; take himaway, he's a sad 〈◊〉— take him away, or he'll break my heart. Lock him up.  Cra. 
Lockme up? how shall I come at my Mother then? Pox take it.  [Ex. Seru. Cra. Flo. 
He's far gone.  Pod. 
I think my Judgement is to be relied upon.  Flo. 
I wish in his madness he had not torn my good Reputation, the only Image of a Man we ought to venerate.  Bri. 
I would have no body's Picture preserved but the Doctors.  Flo. 
Nor I. Well, I have news to tell you from another World, the very Devils have more care of us, than our pretended Friends. A Spirit appeared to a Country Maid, and told her, Naples would be burnt on this Night, if care was not taken.  Pod. 
Is it possible! where is the Maid?  Flo. 
In the Country, she was coming to Town, fell ill by the way, so she has sent the Story to the Viceroy, by the Post.  Pod. 
And what says he?  Flo. 
He laughs at it.  Dr. 
He's a fine Fellow.  Br. 
He's in the right, why the Devil would not the Spirit come Post himself, but deliver a Message of this consequence to a silly Country Gossip? The Devil never employs any but Fops of Spirits, he's not fit to be a Devil, I'll justify it.  Pod. 
How do you know 'twas a Devil? May be 'twas the Soul of some of our Friends.  Br. 
Let it be whose Soul it will, I say the Soul was a Fop. I think People, when they are dead turn Tonies'; they never say one wise word, nor ever come into any wise Company.  Dr. 
The Viceroy is a pure Canary-Bird, I'll have him turned out of his place, I'll prove he is a Mahometan, he was Circumcised at Bar— bar— badoes.  Pod. 
I believe you mean Barbary, Doctor.  Dr. 
Why, ay, Barbadoes is the Latin name for Barbary. I love to swear like a Scholar, and a Doctor, as I am.  Bri. 
Well, I'll go put all the Town in Arms.  [Exit. Bri. Dr. 
I'll go wi' you, I dare not stay in any House  [Exit. Doct. Pod. 
I dare not stir out o' mine.  Enter a Servant conducting Pietro, who is disguised like a Spaniard o'Quality. Seru. 
My Lord, here is a Great Gentleman lays he must needs speak with your Lordship presently, about affairs that concern yourself.  Pod. 
Look to me, for I know not what he is.  Pie. 
My Lord, I must beg leave to whisper you.  Pod. 
You may, Sir, but I must also beg leave to use 〈◊〉 these are dangerous times▪ some men ha' been almost whispered out o' their Necks.  Pie. 
I come from the Viceroy; he is sensible of your great Parts and Intere●●, and desires to speak wi' you presently; and if you will be his Friend, he offers you your own terms, 〈◊〉 Honour, Profit, and Greatness.  Pod. 
Had is it come to this? I like this— Sir, 〈…〉.  Pie. 
A Chair waits for you at the door; he desires 〈…〉 may be managed with all secrecy till 'tis settled.  Pod. 
I will 〈…〉 a Wise Man. Mr. Florie I'm called away about matters of very great Importance, I must take my leave.  Ros. 
O' this 〈…〉 Night, my Lord?  Pod. 
It must be.  Ros. 
Would 〈◊〉 Nation were settled once, that we might enjoy one another.  Pod. 
It may 〈…〉 speedily. Good Night.  Flo. 
Good Night● Madam.  Pod. 
〈…〉 Mr. Florio! are you well enough?  Flo 
〈…〉, my Lord, my good Name is the Child of a ●●ck Man. seldom sound, never thought to be so. I must be tender of it: Good Night, Madam; come, my Lord, I'll see you in your Chair.  Pod. 
No, no, I cannot stay for your dreaming pace: I'm in haste.  Flo. 
Pray, my Lord.  Pod. 
I cannot stay, I cannot stay; good Night, good Night.  [Exit. Pod. Pietro. Flo. 
Ha', ha', ha', how greedily this Fool swallows the 〈◊〉, ●s the room, that must pass with him for the Court, and secure him till his Horns be grown, so dressed he cannot know it to be one in his own House?  Ros. 
That was my care.  Flo. 
You see my Man's new furniture has cheated him.  Ros. 
So shall the Room.  Flo. 
Then we may securely hoist Sail for 〈…〉. All the Mudd that barred it up, we have conveyed away, and I will come a Shore on these white Cliffs, and plant my Heart there for ever.  Ros. 
Do so, and I'll promise thee the Happiness and Wealth I gain by the Residence of my Prince, shall not make 〈◊〉 ungratefully Factious. 〈◊〉 true to me, and I'll be most Loyal to thee.  Flo. 
Then we'll be the happiest pair in the whole World.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE Changes.  Enter Pietro conducting the Podesta with Ceremony. Pie. 
My Lord, you are very welcome to Court.  Pod. 
Your most humble Servant, Sir.  Pie. 
Take not your private Reception ill, for few or none are entrusted with this Intrigue; 'tis a great State 〈◊〉 and great Honours, to my knowledge, are designed you, no less than the High 〈◊〉 of Lord Treasurer.  Pod. 
Lord Treasurer?  Pie. 
Sir, I speak what I know; 'twill be some time before you come to it; and the Viceroy will expect you sacrifice to him the Doctor, Bricklayer, Florio—.  Pod. 
Ay, and my Father too, if he were alive, he should hang 'em all. Lord Treasurer!  Pie. 
I hope, my Lord, you won't 〈◊〉 some Oaths— and—  Pod. 
Nothing, I'll refuse nothing, Sir, for such Honour as this: Lord Treasurer!  Pie. 
I'll acquaint his Highness with your Arrival: you must be willing to suffer some attendance, the common affliction of all Courtiers.  Pod. 
I'll do, or suffer any thing, for so much Glory as this. Lord Treasurer!  Pie. 
Your humble Servant, my Lord.  [Exit Pie. Pod. 
Your most humble Servant, Sir: Lord Treasurer! to what Grandeur am I rising? Some of the Court are coming.  A noise of picking the Lock, and Enter Craffy. Cra. 
So, I ha' got out o' my Prison.  Pod. 
Craffy in Court!  Cra. 
So, I have shut back the Lock admirably, and got out of Prison: my Father! but why should I be afraid of him? he thinks me mad, and will be afraid o' me.  Pod. 
What a notable Boy is this? I thought he was mad, and he has more Wit than myself, h'as climbed to preferment before me; I always said this Boy had nimble parts. Son.  Cra. 
My Lord.  Pod. 
You are surprised to see me in Court.  Cra. 
In Court!  Pod. 
I am as much surprised to see your Wit, which so subtly disguised your Policy under pretended madness.  Cra. 
Policy! am I grown from a Madman to a Politician?  Pod. 
Well, I am proud o' thee. Father and Son, both Favourites! o' my word we shall be a great Family. Well— what says the Viceroy to thee o' me?  Cra. 
Viceroy!  Pod. 
Ay, and how art thou in with the Vicequeen?  Cra. 
Vicequeen!  Pod. 
Ay, for Women have great power in all Courts. Didst now come out of the Vice-Queen's side?  Cra. 
Out of her side!  Pod. 
Her side, that is her part o'th' Court?— her Apartments; thou thinkest I'm a raw Courtier; no, Sir, I know Court Phrases.  Cra. 
My dirty hole, the Vice-Queens Apartment!  Pod. 
Why art so shy to thy Brother Courtier? I'm thy Brother Courtier now.  Cra. 
Now would I give ten pound to know which of us two is mad; if I were sure he were mad, I'd run and beg him presently; but the danger is, lest I be begged myself.  Pod. 
Thou art close wi' me, but I'll be open with thee: I have sold all the Whigs, and myself into the Bargain; and what dost think the Court gave me?  Cra. 
I don't know.  Pod. 
The Lord Treasurer's place; I am to be Lord Treasurer. Boy.  Cra. 
Father!  Pod. 
Child.  Cra. 
The Lord bless thee, and deliver thee from Poetry, for thou art a sad sight.  Pod. 
Ha! a noise! the Court assaulted! I am cruel afraid the Whigs ha' made some attempt upon the Court, and got the better, then will they catch me in Court, and hang me for a Turncoat.— hid Boy, hid.  Cra. 
Yet cannot I tell which of us is mad, or where I am.  [Ex. Pod. and Cra. Enter Governor, a Guard, Doctor and Bricklayer Prisoners▪ Porter of the Podesta's House. Gou. 
Friend, you were best confess where your Lord is, before I break open any more Doors, for if I find him in the House, after your denial of him, I shall punish you.  Port. 
Indeed, if it please your Highness, he never came home since he went abroad with a strange Gentleman.  Gou. 
Your Lady you says a Bed, and will not be disturbed?  Port. 
I must disturb her, if it be your pleasure, but she has forbid any Person coming near her Chamber.  Enter Podesta and Craffy peeping. Pod. 
The Governor o'th' City here? then the Whigs are worsted, and I'll show myself.  Cra. 
The Governor here! then this is the Court.  Pod. 
My Lord.  Gou. 
d'ye see, Sirrah? your Master's in the First Room I come in.  Port. 
I did not know it, indeed, my Lord.  Gou. 
Secure the Podesta.  Pod. 
Secure me!  Gou. 
Ay, the Viceroy will endure your intolerable disorders no longer. Arm the City at midnight, and send your Agitators abroad to disperse new minted lies among 'em, the Come wherewith you pay all your Forces. I have order to secure you all.  Dr. 
I fear you not.  Bri. 
〈…〉 and my Habeas Corpus.  〈◊〉 
How now brother, Courtier! is this your greatness  Pod. 
Ha! am I trepanned? was this fair o'th' Viceroy to entice me to Court with promises of Honours and Preferments, and then secure me?  Gou. 
The Viceroy entice you to Court with Promises?  Pod. 
Yes, you had not seen me in Court else.  Gou. 
Why, when did I see you in Court?  Pod. 
When! that's a strange Question. Where am I now▪  Gou. 
That's a stranger Question. Do you not know where you are? do you not know your own home?  Pod. 
My own home! why am I at home?  Gou. 
The man's mad.  Cra. 
Then the disputes at an end? my Lord, I beg to 〈◊〉 his Guardian.  Pod. 
If I be at home, I have had a fine trick played me and by this Gentleman, I am glad I have you Sir pray let him be secured, and examined Sir, where am I?  En 〈…〉 Pietro Pie. 
At home Sir.  Pod. 
At home! and wherefore did you entice me out of my house, and after you had danced me to and fro, 〈◊〉 me home again, pretending you brought me to Court.  Gou. 
Confess. Sir.  Cra. 
His Periwig. and false Beard, confess 'twas that his Master might make my Lord Treasurer a Cuckold— for this is Florio's man—  Pod. 
Florio's man! then his Master is an Impostor, my Wife a Slut, and I'm a Fool.  Dr. 
And a Knave, for I believe you went abroad with designs to betray us.  Pod. 
I shan't inform you Sir.  Bri. 
There's not an honest man in the world.  Cra. 
Now am I to be believed, or no? Sirrah you Pimp, where ha' you pimped this couple together?  Pie. 
In the next room.  Gou. 
Force open the door.  [The Scene is drawn, Florio and Rosaura are discovered sitting Arm in Arm, they offer to fly, and are catched. Cra. 
You Villain— [draws]  Gou. 
Disarm the fellow.  Pod. 
You Strumpet.  Cra. 
You Jilt.  Dr. 
You Rogue.  Bri. 
Tory in Masquerade.  Gou. 
Are you sick Sir? I'll know the state of your body.  Pod. 
My wife can tell.  Gou. 
There's another Lady shall inquire a Rack.  Flo. 
That Lady's a scurvy bedfellow, I'll spare her pains.  Pod. 
Are you to die a Thursday come-sennight?  Flo. 
I believe 'twill be put off a little longer now.  Cra. 
So, you are a healthy Rascal, are you?  Flo. 
Why truly I find myself very finely well, I thank heaven, very well.  Bri. 
Oh you shamming Rascal!  Rob. 
How! ha you abused me thus? and are you an Impostor.  Pod. 
And would you abuse us, Madam? and cheat us into a belief you did not know it?  Ros. 
Do you believe I did?  Pod. 
Did not all our eyes see you Arm in Arm?  Ros. 
What o' that? I invoke heaven to witness—  Pod. 
Away you Strumpet.  Ros. 
Is it possible—  Pod. 
Never come near my bed, or sight more.  Ros. 
I invoke heaven to witness—  Pod. 
What?  Ros. 
That thou shalt never come near my bed, or sight more.  Pod. 
Oh Impudences!  Ros. 
The impudence is yours. I modestly concealed your shame and mine, and you would force me impudently to confess.  Pod. 
Is it my shame that you are a Strumpet?  Flo. 
Yes, she is a true Whig, and has revolted from you, because you did not pay her nightly Pension well.  Pod. 
I hope you have Sir.  Flo. 
I wonot say whether I have, or no.  Pod. 
But I will say thou art a Rascal.  Flo. 
I'm an honester man than yourself, and truer to my Principles, you would have left 'em for Preferment. I retain 'em, our Principles are, he is not to be regarded who has a right to Govern, but he who can best serve the ends of Government▪ I can better serve the ends of your Lady▪ than you can, so I lay claim to your Lady.  Res. 
And you have my consent.  Flo. 
So, I have the voice of the Subject too; than you are my wife, and I'll keep you.  Pod. 
Oh brave! Sir, must this be?  Gou. 
Ask the Law, I must do all things according to Law.  Cra. 
Your Servant, My Lord Treasurer; these are a fine Crew, Sir, Here's the Bricklayer, Sir, a fine Privy Counsellor, is he not? he expects also every day to be a Colonel, he is already a Colonel Presumptive.  Bri. 
Very well.  Cra. 
Here's the Doctor too, a fine Divine, Sir.  Dr. 
Sirrah don't meddle with me.  Cra. 
He applieth himself very much to the Bible, I mean to kiss it. He Prays much, so help him the Contents o'th' Book, and they have helped him to many a pound, though they and he scarce ever saw one another. The Bible is the only Benefice he has, Sir.  Dr. 
Sirrah, I'll have your Ears.  Cra. 
Never when you Preach, Doctor. They are all very good Men, never take Heavens Name in vain, that is, Swear, and get nothing by it; but to get your Estate, or command, they'll Swear your Head off.  Gou. 
That I believe.  Cra. 
They are moderate Drinkers o' Wine, but will Carouse Water abundantly, for they'll drink your Rivers, Fish and all, and put your Land into it for a Toast, if you'll let 'em. And yet sometimes they have very narrow Swallows, they cannot down with a little Church Ceremony, but they'll swallow Church Lands, Hedges and Ditches.  Gou. 
Well, my Lord Pedesta, your Office the Victroy and the Council will order be managed by a wiser Man.  Pod. 
I wonot part wi' my Office but by Law. I have done nothing but by the Advice of Able Council— Here he comes.  Gou. 
That Knave.  Enter Bartoline, and two Witnesses. Pod. 
Counsellor Bartoline, will our Charter justify us?  Bar. 
In What? keeping a Bawdy housh? your Housh ha●li been made a Bawdy-housh, notch by me, but by Florio, your shicke shaint— a yamed Rascal.  Pod. 
I know it to my sorrow. But the Question I ask is, will our Charter justify our Arming without the Viceroy's leave?  Bar. 
I have chold you it will a hundred chymsh, and let the Vishroy do hish worsht.  Gou. 
●ow! bring that Knave to me.  Gen. 
Sir, the Governor o'th' City commands you to come to him  Bar. 
The Governor here ●od ' shame, then l'me ruined, I'm ruined.  Gou. 
Sir, did not the Viceroy retain you for his Lawyer, and did not you send him the direct contrary Opinion?  Bar. 
Yesh and pleash your Lordship, and I sent his Highnesh chrue Law. I only sheatchered Chas among these Fellowsh cho catch 'em, caush I found 'em arrant Rashcalsh, and cho show my Loyalchy, I have drawn up Arti●lsh of High Chreason against 'em, and you may hang 'em all.  Dr. 
What a Rogue's here?  Bri. 
This was you that understood Mankind.  Pod. 
I'l● never pretend to it more.  Bar. 
There yey are Shir—  Gou. 
Articles of High Treason, with other High Crimes and Misdemeanours against Don Pedro, Duke of Ossuna, Viceroy of Naples: How! Articles of Treason against the Viceroy?  Bar. 
Oh, My Lord, My Lord, I ha' given you the wrong Paper, yat wash a Paper I drew to delude yesh Rogush. Pray doubt chake advanchage of an old fumbling Fellow.  Gou. 
An old Bloodhound.  Bar. 
I beg you Lordships pardon on my kneesh.  Gou. 
Oh, Sir, if the Viceroy were at a Bar, you'd bring him upon his Knees.  Bar. 
Ingeed I am Loyal Shir. I have discovered a horrible Plotch, one Florio has Plotched cho open the Gatesh, and letch in the French.  Fle. 
How?  God. 
What▪ Florio▪  Bar. 
A debauch'd Fellow, yat prechends to be Sink, 〈◊〉 Godly, Preachesh up and down for a Benefish. Yat is 〈◊〉 Manshes Wife he likesh.  Gou. 
Here's the Man you speak of.  Bar. 
Then I desire he may be apprehenged for High 〈…〉 I have choo Witneshesh will Shwear all yish upon 〈◊〉  Flo. 
what means the Rascal?  Bar. 
Yesh are the Men.  Gou. 
What Country-Men are they?  1. Wit. 
I am an Irish man, I'm not ashamed o' my Country  Gou. 
What Religion are you of?  1 Wit. 
Hubbubbow! ask an Irish Man what Religion he 〈◊〉 shertainly it I be an Irish Man, I'm a good Catholic  Gou. 
Well, and what can you Swear against Florio●  1. Wit. 
I'll Shwear hesh a Knave and a Rascal, and a 〈◊〉 and hash been in a Plot.  Flo. 
What Plot?  1. Wit. 
To kill all the Town, and let in the French; yesh indeed.  Flo. 
Kill all the Town by myself.  1 Wit. 
No, I wash to have a toush and Cobs to help tee.  Flo. 
Cobs! what are those?  1. Wit. 
Pieshes of Eight— and I wash to have ten hundred of 'em.  Flo. 
To do what?  Wit. 
To let in the French, and make a Fire in the Town, and cut all our Troa●sh; yesh indeed.  Flo. 
All our troatsh? waste thou to cut thy own throat.  Dr. 
Sir, we won't have our Evidence ba●led— he means All our throats— dost not?  Wit. 
Yesh indeed— all our throatsh.  Flo. 
I'll swear I never saw this Fellows face before in my life.  Wit. 
Hubbubbow, tou hasht drunk above a thousand times ushqaebagh wi'me, to the carrying on of 'tish plot.  Fro. 
Ushquebagh! what's that?  Wit. 
A brave Liquor tat we have in Ireland, tersh no such here, I never shaw any here.  Flo. 
How could I drink 〈◊〉 then?  Wit. 
I don't know how tou couldst drink it, but tou hash drunk it above a toushand times, and a toushand.  Gou. 
Come, come Sirrah, I doubt you are a Villain.  Wit. 
Hubbubbow! tou talk'st like an English 〈…〉, wilt tou be an English Heretic, and not believe 〈◊〉 Irishman.  Dr. 
Come, come, the Fellow's an honest simple Fellow  Wit. 
Ay, by Shaint Patrick am I  Dr. 
H'as discovered a horrible plot, only wants expression. Is it possible you Rogue you? was this the meaning of all your canting, and deluding us, to lull us asleep whilst our Throats are cut?  Pod. 
Thou Monster● not only Cuckold me, but Cut my Throat.  Flo. 
'Tis false.  Dr. 
'Tis true.  Flo. 
〈…〉 say the fellow before.  Dr. 
I'll Swear, I have seen him with thee above forty times.  Cra. 
And so have I too I'll teach the Rogue to lie with my Mistress, I'll hang him if I can.  [Aside. Bri. 
So the Plot's proved, plainly proved.  〈◊〉. 
A Plot to murder me as proved, but sure such a Rascal as this who has sworn Contradictions shall not be believed.  Dr. 
He is a Rogue, and a Traitor that does not behave every Word he says.  Enter the Clerk and Officers, with Artal and Lucinda. Cle. 
Sir, I have catched Mr. Florio here.  Bar. 
What Florio? art out of thy Wissh▪  Cle. 
The Florio, that was to let in the French, and run away with my Mistress, ● ha catched 'em together, and brought 'em  Bar. 
Thou art Mad, our Evigensh has shworn againsht a noyer Man.  Cle. 
Then your Evidence is Mad, and done't know what they Swear.  Wit. 
Sir, I know what I Swear as well as you do, and know Mr. Florio as well as any Man, I have known him this seven years, and know this Man to be the true Florio, and a Traitor that plotted to let in the French.  Cle. 
Then thou art a Rascal, and bought off, for this is the true Florio, and the Traitor that plotted to let in the French.  Gou. 
Then thou art a Rascal, and hired to be one; for I, and all the Town can swear his Name is Artal.  Cra. 
Oh, the Devil! all our Plot's confounded.  Gou. 
You Irishman, which do you say is the true Florio?  Wit. 
'Tish is de Man I wash bid to shwear againsht.  Gou. 
Bid to swear against? who bid you? confess, or the Rrack shall make you.  Wit. 
Oh! preedee do not wrack me, and I will confess. 'Tish Knave and I had shome acquaintansh, and sho I had shome occasionsh for Money, and I borrowed shome of him, and he had shome occashionsh for Teshtimony, and sho I taught I wash obliged in shivility to lend him shome Teshtimony, and sho he bed meshwear againsht one Florio, and shaid 'Tish was de Man, but if you wilt forgive me, I'll shwear him off again.  Cor. 
So, Sirrah; and who put you upon this?  Wit. 
An Attorney, Sir; employed, I suppose, by this Counsellor.  Dr. 
O notorious mercenary Rogues! who'll believe such Rogues as they are?  Bri. 
None but Rogues.  Gou. 
Just now you said he was a Rogue that would not believe 'em.  Dr. 
Ay, when they said the same things that I did: what I said was confirmed by Craffy, a considerable young Man, Heir to a great Estate, and of a spotless Reputation, no Man can say the least against him.  Gou. 
And what say you, Craffy? speak truth, if you mean to have any Fars.  Pod. 
Or any part o' my Estate.  Gou. 
Did you ever see this Irishman with Florio?  Cra. 
I only spoke in a little Passion: I have some of the Doctor's Infirmities, I'm passionate, and apt to swear in my passion.  Flo 
Be perjured in a Passion?  Dr. 
This Fellow's the lyingst Rogue in the Nation, and has been so from his Cradle.  Gou. 
Just now you said no Man could say the least against him.  Bri. 
Shame upon Sham.  Art. 
My Lord, I'll clear all. This young Woman is my Kinswoman, I hearing she was Married to that Old Man, brought to Town, and lodged in House which Florio frequented; she not knowing me, I took upon me Florio's Name, and made addresses to her; partly to divertise myself, but chiefly to make trial of her Virtue. The Old Man catched me in the act of Courtship, grew Jealous, and would have abused his Wife, which, to prevent, I took her from him, he, to be revenged, hired Witnesses to hang me for Treason.  Bar. 
I'll shwear he shpoke Creashon, but 'tish to no purpose, for now 'twil appear Malish.  Gou. 
To Prison with 'em all.  Art. 
I beg your Lordship to intercede with the Viceroy for the Old Man, for my Cousin's sake, and command him to use her kindly.  Gou. 
I shall consider of it.  Bar. 
I hawk your Lordship, but my Heartsh broken.  Bai. 
Hang me, if you will: I'll swear I'm murdered by Sulborners and Shamplotters.  Dr. 
And Traytorly Rogues.  Art. 
Well said, Doctor, thou wilt give Titles in the last day of the Reign.  Gou. 
The last day it shall be. The Viceroy, and all of us will put an end to his Absolute Negative Voice, his great power of degrading Lords and Dukes, into Rogues and Rascals, if they will not purchase of him the Confirmation of their Titles, by capping to him: Nay, of deposing Kings, if they slight his Councils. We will also Dissolve all his Privy-Council: And so Gentlemen, henceforward be wise, leave off the new Trade you have taken up, of managing State Affairs, and betake yourselves to the Callings you were bred too, and understand. Be honest, meddle not with other men's, matters especially with Government, 'tis none of your Right. In short, trouble not yourselves more than needs.  
Chief you Married Men, for all allow  
You Married Men, have private Plagues enough.  
FINIS▪     

The EPILOGUE 〈…〉 LEE in the Character of Bartoline the Old Lawyer▪  Enter a 〈◊〉 Bartoline. 1 Gent. 
SIR, I come to you 〈…〉 worthy Gentlemen, the World is pleased to call Wh●  Bar. 
Whigs Sir, they are the Props and Pillars of the Nation.  1 Gent. 
Sir, There is a Poet has been so bold as to write a Play against 'em, in which several of 'em think themselves abused; now, Sir, they desire to know if they have not an Action of Slander against the Poet?  Bar. 
Ay, ay, Sir, ho's a Raico●l.  1 Gent. 
And may not have considerable Damages?  Bar. 
Oh! very considerable—  1 Gent. 
Here are two Pieces.  Bar. 
Two Pieces—? pretty indifferent damages— I believe they may have some Damages.  1 Gent. 
Here's one great person thinks himself much abused, and has sent you 20 Pieces.  Bar. 
Sir, he shall have great Damages, he shall trounce the Poet, a Rascal to abuse great persons.  1 Gent. 
I'll tell him— Ex.  Enter a second Gent. 2. 
Sir, I come to you from a person that wants your Council, but he is a swinging Tory.  Bar. 
Well, he's ne'er the worse man, provided he has a swinging Purse.  2. 
Sir, he has writ a Play against Faction● and some Whigs think themselves hit home in it, and they are bringing Actions of Slander against him to punish him.  Bar. 
Sir, if he has his the Whigs home, he is a good Marks-man, for now they are all upon the Wing.  2. 
Sir, he desires to know whether there lies an Action of Slander against him or no? and so, whether he had best compound the business in time, or go through with it?  Bar 
Oh! let him go through with it.  2. 
And you will assist him?  Bar 
Ay, ay, in private.  2. 
But he has no Money, he must Sue in Forma Pauperis.  Bar. 
Forma Pauperis? Oh! damned Rogue, does he abuse Great Men, and has he no Money? Tell him have considered it, and I 〈◊〉 defend a slanderous Rascal in abusing honest men.  2. 
You said you would help him through with it.  Bar. 
Ay, through the Pillory. A Rascal without Money abuse Great Men, and then Sue in Forma Pauperis!— Come the Court is fat— I must Plead for the Plaintiff.  
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From WHIGS▪ to whom by Custom it belongs,  
WHIGS are all Freeholders of their Tongues,  
And 〈◊〉 too—  
I le prove it out of Janeway's Reports,  
And the Decrees of several Coffee Courts.  
The POET has no title then to rail,  
Let him be seized, nor let Wit be his Bail,  
Wit is a Tory, ne'er with us would join,  
Wit never helped the Whigs to write one Line.  
IT has been accus'd, and in our Writings sought  
But still the Coroner Non inventus brought:  
But Learned Judges, I leave all to you,  
If you're for TORIES, I will be so too.  
'Noint Witches, they will fly, though ne'er so old;  
I'll be as nimble too, point me with Gold:  
I'll quickly to the Tory Party skip,  
Greaze my Fist well, I'll let cur Faction slip.  
FINIS.