THE damoisels A LA MODE. A COMEDY.  
Composed and Written by RICHARD FLECKNOE.  
LONDON: Printed for the Author, 1667.   

Licenced  
May the 15th, 1667. By Roger L'Estrange.   

TO THEIR GRACES THE DUKE & DUCHESS OF Newcastle, THE AUTHOR DEDICATES THIS HIS COMEDY MORE HUMBLY THAN BY WAY OF EPISTLE.   

THE PREFACE.  
THis Comedy is taken out of several Excellent Pieces of Moliere. The main plot of the damoisels out of his Pretieusee's Ridiculee's; the Counterplot of Sganarelle, out of his Escole des Femmes, and out of the Escole des mary, the two Naturals; all which like so many Pretieuse stones, I have brought out of France; and as a Lapidary set in one Jewel to adorn our English Stage: And I hope my setting them, and giving them an English foil, has nothing diminished of their native lustre. And I have not only done like one who makes a posy out of divers flowers in which he has nothing of his own, (besides the collection, and ordering them) but like the Bee, have extracted the spirit of them into a certain Quintessence of mine own.  
For the Language of the Pretieuse, it may be wondered that I durst attempt the Englishing it (so often attempted by our best English wits, and as often despaired of) it being a Language even new unto the French themselves, and so little understood by most of them, as they are forced to make a Dictionary for it apart; which notwithstanding I have done, and I hope with that success, as I have not only made the Language of the Author, English, but even the spirit, life, and quickness of it too.  
For my Printing it before 'tis Acted, 'tis only to give the Auditors their Bill of Fare before hand; so far from taking away their Appetites of seeing it afterwards, as (on the contrary) if they like it, it increases it but the more; and if every one who writes for the Stage would but do the like, there would not be so much deceit in it as there is▪ Nor do I it to render it more public, but only more legible, (few having patience to read more than a Letter in written hand) and I may well say I have found out the secret of Printing, since written Copies communicated to many, and Printed only to few, are secrets alike.  
For the Acting it, those who have the Governing of the Stage, have their Humours, and would be entreated; and I have mine, and won't entreat them; and were all Dramatic Writers of my mind, they should wear their old Plays Threadbare, ere they should have any New, till they better understood their own Interest, and how to distinguish betwixt good and bad.  
Mean time I suppose 'twill not be difficult for all who read this Comedy, to comprehend, how the VVorld's a a Theatre, every place a Stage, all who read and understand, Actors and Auditors, and there may be as good Plays now a days not Acted, as Acted, at our theatres, and by our Actors here.  
Richard Flecknoe.   


AA   
THE INTRODUCTION.  The Candles lighted, before the Curtain's drawn, Enter one of the Actors, another (supposed no Actor) calling after him. 1. 
HArk you, hark you, whither away so fast?  2. 

Why to the Theatre, 'tis past three o'th' Clock,  
and the Play's ready to begin.   1. 

Stay a little, and I'll go along w'ye.  
They say you've a new Play to day?   2. 
We have so.  1. 
And who's the Author? who made it?  2. 
For that 'tis no matter, so the Play be good.  1. 

By your favour, but 'tis though,  
and a great matter too; for oftentimes  
the reputation of the Author, is more  
than half the goodness of the Play.   2. 

Let it suffice, 'tis one who has been more  
than a Prenticeship at the Trade,  
and 'tis with Poets, and their Plays,  
as with Potters, and their Vessels,  
where (most commonly) your young beginners  
Marr half a dozen  
before they can make one.   1. 

But has he any Faction for him?  
has he any to cry him up, in court or town?  
else he'll be sure to be cried down  
before the Curtain's drawn, or Music  
play.   2. 

For that he's of an odd humour,  
and says he'd rather stand on his own legs,  
then stalk on stilts of others favours.   1. 

That's the surest way indeed,  
but t'other (now adays) the more plausible   2. 

And what thinks he of it himself? for  
none can do any thing but by chance,  
who knows not how well he does it.   2. 

For him to praise or dispraise it  
were vanity,  
and but to usurp  
upon the privilege of the Auditors,  
only this he dares say, 'tis a Merry Comedy,  
and he hopes will please all, but only such  
as would have Plays as serious as their business,  
and as sad as Funeral Orations.   1. 

But let him not be too confident of it though,  
for 'tis a Critical Age that finds out spots  
even in the Sun itself;  
and men's expectations  
never deceive them more  
than in others judgements of their Plays;   2. 

For him, he is so little presumptuous,  
as he submits his Play wholly unto  
the judgement of the Auditors  
with this Protestation,  
that he shall be as little offended with  
those who shall justly find any fault with  
it, as he should be with those who  
should find any dirt  
or spot of dirt,  
on his Hat, or clothes, to brush off,  
or wipe away;—  
nay he should take it  
as a courtesy from them rather.   1. 

As for that  
he shall find enough  
to do him that courtesy  
(I'll warrant him)  
and me amongst the rest.   2. 
Come, let's go then.  Exeunt.  

Of the Persons Represented, and Actors Representing them.  
TOgether with the Persons Represented in this Comedy, I have set down the Comedians, whom I intended should Represent them, that the Reader might have half the pleasure of seeing it Acted, and a lively imagination might have the pleasure of it all entire. The Scenes & clothes being the least Considerable in it, any Italian Scenes with four Doors serving for the one, and for the other any French clothes A la Mode.  

The Persons Represented.  
Monsir Bonhomme, Father to the Damsels. 

In love with Isabel. His Friend.  
Monsir Valerio,  
Monsir Ergasto,   

Suitors unto them.  
Monsir Du Buisson  
Monsir La Fleur    
Sganarelle, Guardian to Isabel. 

Two Laquys disguised.  
Marque Mascarillio,  
Count jodelet.    
Two Natural Fools, Sganerelle's Houskeepers.  
Madmoiselle Mary. Damoiselles a la Mode.  
Madmoiselle Anne. Damoiselles a la Mode.  
Isabella A witty Damoiselle  
Lysette, the damoisels waiting Woman. 

Mutes.  
Two Chair-Men.  
One of the Music.  
Gentlemen and Ladies for the Ball, etc.     The Scene PARIS. 
The Unity of Persons, Time, and Place, exactly observed.  

The Representers, as they were first designed.  
Cartwright.  
C. Hart.  
W. Winterson.  
Burt.  
E. Keninston.  
I. Lacy.  
M. Moon.  
R. Shatterel.  
Alexander and Wilbraham.  
The Two Marshals.  
Mrs. Rutter.  
Nell Guin.    

PROLOGUE.  
Intended for the Overture of the Theatre, 1666.  

IN these sad Times our Author has been long  
Studying to give you some diversion;  
And he has ta'en the way to do't, which he  
Thought most diverting, mirth, and Comedy:  
And now he knows there are enough i'th' Town  
At name of Mirth and Comedy will, frown,  
And sighing say, the times are bad what then?  
Will their being sad & heavy better them!  
Or rather won't their sad and heavy cheer  
Make these our times worse than they are appear?  
Sadness for Physic may be sometimes good;  
But cheerfulness should be our daily food;  
Without whose most delightful seasoning,  
Even life itself were an insipid thing.  
'Tis a great happiness when men are sad,  
Divertisments may any ways be had:  
And we do hope our Comedy to day,  
May so divert you, as you all shall say,  
Whilst every one some Recreation has,  
The best and most delightful ones, are Plays.    

THE damoisels A LA MODE.  

Actus I.  

Scaena I.  Enter Sganarelle and Monsieur Bonhomme. Bonhomme. 
NAy but will you hear me a little?  Sgan. 

Perhaps I will, perhaps I will not.—  
You don't come to chide me I hope?   Bonh. 
No, but to give you good counsel rather.  Sgan. 
And that's little better than chiding.  Bonh. 
And to tell you as a friend what the world says of you.  Sgan. 
What care I what it says?  Bonh. 
I there 'tis now! you care not for the world, nor the world for you; who live in't so sequestered from all society: You seem no more a part of the Universe, than a loose stone in a wall, a part of the building, or Edifice.  Sgan. 
Well 'tis my humour, what then?  Bonh. 
Then you're as froward as young Children, as wayward as old age; and for courtesy and civility the chiefest bond of humane Society, you're a mere stranger to't, and know no more than the very Savages in America.  Sgan. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Bonh. 
What d'ye laugh! and are you not moved with this?  Sgan. 
Yes to a little vanity or so, to hear so much of my Commendations.  Bonh. 
If you count this your commendations, what d'ye count discommendations I pray?  Sgan. 
Why to be counted such a silly fool, to have them say of me, Oh! he's a very good! a very honest man!  Bonh. 
And is goodness, and honesty, a discommendation with you then?  Sgan. 
I marry is it, as the world goes now adays, when it only serves to fool us, and makes us but a prey to every knave.—  
And what do they say beside?  Bonh. 
Why since you'll needs have it, for Madmoiselle Isabel.—  Sgan. 
ay, what do they say of her?  Bonh. 
Why they say, she was not left unto your care by her deceased father, to be made a slave and prisoner by you.  Sgan. 
And was she left unto your care I pray?  Bonh. 
Why no, who says she was?  Sgan. 
Then meddle with that you have to do withal,— you'd have me bring her up, I'll warrant you, as you do your fine Daughters there, to be always gadding abroad a visiting.  Bonh. 
Well.  Sgan. 
Or visited at home?  Bonh. 
And that too?  Sgan. 
And have all your fine youths and Gallants of the Time (who stoop like Pies or Daws when they peck at fruit, alternaetly, their tails above their becks) compliment them, and give them Balls and Collations?  Bonh. 
And what then?  Sgan. 
Why then you're a fool, Cousin, and if you were twenty Cousins I'd tell you so;— for her, being committed to my care, either to marry her, or see her well married, I'll bring her up in manner as befits a wife, in the blessed state of ignorance, she shall see and know nothing; for this seeing and knowing too much, undid the first woman in Paradise, and has undone all your Women ever since.  Bonh. 
Should your Women but hear you, they'd claw out your eyes for this.  Sgan. 
Then she shall have no Books to read in, for that but corrupts them at second hand; and if she had not learned to write and read before her father's death, she should have never learned for Sganarelle.  Bonh. 
And this you count good breeding now?  Sgan. 
Better than your fine Daughters have, I wuss, to be always a' the mode, dressed up unto the height, as if such Beauties simply of themselves, wear not darts killing and dangerous enough, but they must be poisoned too? no, I'll keep her untainted from the vanities of the Time.  Bonh. 
Alas! you know she is too wise to be corrupted by them.  Sgan. 
No matter for that, I'll trust rather to mine own wisdom, then unto hers, and keep so strict a hand o'er her, as she shan't be corrupted, though she would.  Bonh. 
And I so gentle an one o'er mine, as I hope they would not, though they could.  Sgan. 
Well then since you're so resolved, take you your course, and I'll take mine, and see who'll have the better of it at the end.  Bonh. 
Content, and see:  
Here comes my Daughters— they have done their visit it seems.  Sgan. 
And Isabel with them! I like not that.   

SCENA II.  Enter Madmoiselle Anne, Mary, Isabel, and Lysette. Mary. 
ANd does he coop you up so?  Isab. 
So as you see.  Mar. 
Nor suffers you to be visited by none.  Isab. 
By none but you, and that he grumbles at too!  An. 
How d'ye pass your time then— learn to Preserve perhaps?  Lys. 
I— to preserve her shoes, if she never stirs abroad.  Mar. 
And yet does he make Love t'ye?  Isab. 
ay, as Cats do, or High-Dutch to their Mistresses, you'd think they chid the while.  Lys. 
And I'd scold as fast, were it to me.  Mar. 
Come you shall go abroad with us and take the air.  Isab. 
He'll never suffer it.  Mar. 
I'll warrant you.  Sgan. 
Now! whither away so fast w'ye?  Isab. 
I tremble every joint of me!  Lys. 
Fie for shame!— ere I'd stand in such awe of any man, I'd see him hanged, if he were worth hanging.  Mar. 
W'ave entreated our Cousin here along with us to take the air.  Sgan. 
for you, you may go if you please; but for her, she shall tarry at home, I'll have no gadding with her.  Bonh. 
Pray let me entreat for her this once,— we must allow youth some Recreation.  Sgan. 
Youth's a fool, and Age is little better;— she's Recreation enough at home, she needs not go abroad for't.  Lys. 
What? to make you Nightcaps! or piece your old Stockings at heels perhaps!  Sgan. 
I'll none of these Recreations, I, in her whom I intent to make my wife.  Lys. 
Your wife! what should you do with a wife I pray? a dainty Itch well scratched, or Currycomb neatly handled, would do your business.  Bonh. 
Peace, huswife, you're too bold.  Mar. 
Shan't we entreat so much for her this once then?  Sgan. 
No indeed Shan't you, and I'd entreat you to come and visit her no more if this be your business,— I fear she learns no good of you, so she does not.  Lys. 

More than of you for all your  
sour countenance  
and venegar mien— i'faith, i'faith were I  
as she, if you should use me thus, I'd make  
you a Cuckold if ever I married you.   Sgan. 

And were she  
as you, I think she would indeed;  
but as she is, I'll look to her well enough,  
she shall have none of your mother's  
Daughters for Counsellors.   Lys. 
And if she had, she'd be better counselled then by your father's son, I wuss.  Bonh. 
Come, come, leave your prattle, and Daughters go you home, where you're to expect two honest Gentlemen, in nature of Suitors to come and visit you.  Mar. 

Fine Gentlemen spoken scornfully.  
I'll warrant them!   Bonh. 
And look you use them kindly when they come, and entertain them well, d'ye hear?  An. 
ne'er fear it, we'll entertain them as they deserve.  Bonh. 
Do so then— so go and take your leaves.  Sgan. 
I good Lady Eve begone and take your Tempter there, your waiting-woman along w'ye.  Lys. 
I'faith, i'faith, were I your Tempter, I'd only tempt you to hang yourself, or so.  Bonh. 
Go, go, begone I say, and I'll but only go dispatch a little business I have i'th' Town, and straight ways follow you.  Exeunt Damoiselles. 
As for you Cousin, I'ave only this to say t'ye before I go,—  
Those who seek to be rather feared then loved, shall find themselves rather hated then feared at last,— and so farewell.  Sgan. 
Very good— and I've only this to say to you too before you go— let them hate me so they fear me, and so farewell to you again.  Exit Bonhomme. Manent Sganarelle and Isabel. Sgan. 
So— now get you in and expect no more this liberty, d'ye hear? she whom I intent to make my wife, must imagine my house is all the world, and that there's no other company in the world but only she and I.  Isab. 
bless me! that imagination would make me desperate!  Aside. Sgan. 
So— make your curtsy, and be gone,—▪ very good— and look to your business, d'ye hear!  Isab. 
Which is only to be rid of you, which till I am,  Aside. 
I will be nothing but Plot and Stratagem.  Exit. Sgan. 
Now let me think a little.   

SCENA III.  Enter Valerio and Ergato, Sganarelle. Valerio. 
YOnder's the waking Dragon that has my Golden fruit in Custody, I'd fain be acquainted with him.  Sgan. 
Let me see, what am I about now? to marry— very good, an honourable calling! and if there be any pleasure and contentment in this life, your married man has it— I'll go marry presently, I am resolved on it.  Valerio salutes him, and he minds him not. Er. 
He sees you not, to him again.  Sgan. 
But stay Sganarelle, consider a little first, how besides the care and trouble of wife and children, all married men, or are, or may be Cuckolds— hum! I'll none of't, marry who's list for me.  Val. 
He's blind a' this side (sure,) I'll try the other.  Sgan. 
Well, I'll take some further time to consider on't; mean time I'll out of Town as soon as I can, for there's no keeping a woman here without a hundred eyes.  Erg. 
Now, now.  Espies him. Sgan. 
Who! what a does here, this is no English Quaker sure, he makes so many Reverences— again? sure he's some young Reveller, practising to make his honours here— with me Sir?  Val. 
Yes Sir, I have the happiness to be your Neighbour here hard by.  Sgan. 
It may be so.  Val. 
I should be glad of your better acquaintance.  Sgan. 
And why so I pray?  Val. 
Only to come and discourse w'ye sometime, o'th' affairs o'th' time, and news o'th' Town, as who's married, to whom.  Sgan. 
Let them be hanged, what care I.  Val. 
And what's said or done at Court, amongst the rest, d'ye hear the News Sir?  Sgan. 
No, nor I don't care to hear it.  Val. 

No fastening any discourse on him?  
I perceive Sir you live solitary Aside.  
and retired at home.   Sgan. 
What's that to you?  Val. 
And should be glad of company sometimes.  Sgan. 
Who told you so?  Val. 
And i'faith how d'ye pass your time at home.  Sgan. 
Why, as I please myself.  Val. 
You do very well in't, and so should every one do that is wise; and if you please, I should be glad sometimes to come and pass an Eve'ning w'ye, or so.  Sgan. 
Serviteur.  Exit abruptly. Manent Valerio and Ergato. Erg. 
Ha, ha, ha!  
If he fight at this ward as he speaks, I'll warrant any one for hitting him,— Now— what d'ye think of him, and of his brisk replies?  Val. 
Why I think he's one of the race of the ancient Spartans, or Pythagoreans, he's so few words with him.  Erg. 
And those he has, are all rusty, and want oiling; the whoreson speaks nothing but old Iron and Hobnails.  Val. 
Rather Daggers and Punyards that stab me to the heart;— what a misery is't to have her I love, guarded by such a Cerberus as he?  Erg. 
Rather 'tis your happiness; for take this from me, a Woman guarded, is half won; and he who but delivers her from her Guardian, gains the other half of her.  Val. 
ay, but how to do't, there's all the difficulty.  Erg. 
Think, think, have you no invention in you? I never saw a man so dull;— did you ever speak unto her?  Val. 
Never.  Erg. 
Nor writ unto her?  Val. 
Neither.  Erg. 
Why then you've done nothing yet;— has she no servants to make your confidents?  Val. 
None as I know of; only as often as she goes abroad, I follow her; nor does the Hyacinth that amorous flower, ere follow the Sun with more assidual regards, than I do her.  Erg. 
But does she take notice of it?  Val. 
That I know not neither.  Erg. 
Why then you know nothing— think, think on some way to let her know your love for shame.  Val. 
ay but what? the more I think on it, the more impossible I find it.  Erg. 
Hang impossibilities! there's no such things in nature, 'tis hope enough, you love a Woman, and she a living one; Pygmalion only loved the dead Statua of one, and yet (you see) he put life into it at last.— Think, think again then, and I'll warrant you, the brain's a fertile soil; and let our wit but sow the seed, Time soon will ripen it.  Exeunt.  

SCENA IV.  Enter Sganarelle and Isabel. Sganarelle. 
SAy no more, I know the man, and the house he lives at— Valerio d'ye call him?  Isab. 
So they tell me Sir.  
Heaven prosper my plot, as my intent is innocent.  Aside. Sgan. 
Go, go in, and let me alone with him: Gramercy for this Intelligence i'faith now I see thou lov'st me.  Isab. 
ay, as I do a Snake or Toad.  Aside. Manet Sganarelle. Exit. Sgan. 
ay! are you such an one indeed! I'm glad I know it,— no wonder he made me so many Reverences, and desired to come and visit me,— I'll none of that I thank you; that were to let a Thief into my house, or Wolf into my sheepfold; but he that's warned is Armed, I'll to him straight, and tell him soundly of it;— but stay before I go, let me make all sure at home: Where are my Urchins? where are my Changelings there?   

SCENA V.  Enter two Natural Fools. 1. 
HEre Master.  2. 
Here Master.  Sgan. 
These are all the servants I keep, or rather the Parish keeps them, and they serve well enough to keep my house, there's thrift and policy together now: I suppose they will be faithful, 'cause they have not wit enough to be otherwise, Come hither, you must stand modestly whilst I speak unto ye; how often have espies them Playing. I told you of this!  
I must go abroad, d'ye hear?  1. 
I Master.  2. 
I Master.  Sgan. 
And be sure in my absence you look well unto my house.  1. 
I Master.  2. 
I Master.  Sgan. 
If any Trades-woman come, under pretence of selling their Ware, be sure you keep them out, for theyare all Bawds, d'ye hear?  1. 
I Master.  2. 
I Master.  Sgan. 
As for the men, I need not tell you how dangerous it is to let them in who talk to women of nothing but fire & flames.  1. 
I Master.  2. 
I Master.  Sgan. 
Then though your Mistress fall into a swoon, be sure you let no Physician in unto her, for their looking to their waters is altogether as dangerous as 't▪ others fires.  1. 
I Master.  2. 
I Master.  Sgan. 
So, being so well entrusted, ' go, look carefully to your charge, and my benediction w'ye.  1. 
I'll go for fear the Cat eat up my Bird.  2. 
And I for fear the Dog lap up my Porridge.  Exeunt. Manet Sganarelle. Sgan. 
Now for my other business, this is the house as I take it.  
Holla, who's within there?  Knocks.  

SCAENA VI  Enter Valerio and Ergasto. Valerio. 
Who knocks there? Oh Sir is it you, you're very welcome.  Sgan. 
I'll none of your welcomes.  Erg. 
He's at's old ward again.  Sgan. 
Is your name Valerio?  Val. 
It is Sir, at your service.  Sgan. 
I'll none of your services neither, but I come to ask you whether you know that I am Guardian to a certain Damoiselle called Isabel there.  Val. 
I do Sir very well.  Sgan. 
Well then, if you know it, I need not tell you so— next, if you know that, having the disposing of her in Marriage, I intent to marry her myself.  Val. 
That I know not yet.  Sgan. 
Well then, if you done't, I'd have you know so much, and that I take it very unkindly at your hands, that she can never stir abroad, but you are haunting her like a Ghost, and following her so, she may as well be rid of her shadow, as of you.  Val. 
I Sir!  Sgan. 
I you Sir.  Val. 
Who tells you so I pray?  Sgan. 
Marry those who best can tell, even she herself.  Erg. 
There's some comfort, she takes notice of thee yet.  Sgan. 
‛ And besides she bids me tell you that she marks the amorous glances that you give her too.  Erg. 
Ah, ha, Boys! this works.  Sgan. 
And having perceived thus much she would advise you to take some other course, for this won't do she says.  Erg. 
Why this is clear, she's thine own I'll warrant thee boy.  Sgan. 
And this she says she would have told you soon, but that she wanted opportunity of a fit messenger, and was loath to trouble me.  Erg. 
A notable witty wench!  Val. 
Well, Sir I'm sorry I've put you to this trouble, and pray tell her I follow her 'tis true, and look on her, with the same Reverence as adoring Persians look upon the Sun.  Sgan. 
Pray le's have no more of your Reverence; we've had enough of them to day already, and for your looks pray keep them to yourself, for if I catch you looking on her any more.—  Val. 
What then?  Sgan. 
Why then— I'd entreat you to look on some body else.  Val. 
Oh! is that all?  Sgan. 
And so farewell unto ye.  Val. 
I dare not bid him farewell again now, lest he should be angry— well what dost think of this?  Sgan. 
I've made him stare like a Pig! little did he look for such a message from her.  Erg. 
Why she's done thy business to thy hand, and prevented thee.  Val. 
Peace he observes us, let us in, and think what use to make of it.  Exeunt. Manet Sganarelle. Sgan. 
I think I have put him to his dumps. I marry here's a virtuous woman now! that's offended if a man but look on her! where shall you find such another? and how long would it bee're my Cousin's Daughters would do so much, who dress up themselves a purpose to be looked upon? but Isabel defies them all, and I defy all the world to show me such another; thanks to my care of her, and her good Breeding and Education.  Exit.  
Finis Actus Primi.   

Actus II.  

Scaena VII.  Enter Monsieur Du Buisson, and La Fleur. La Fleur. 
Well, and what think you of our Entertainment now?  Du Buis. 
Why I think, had we been of the lowest rank of men, no higher than Grooms and Footboys, they could not have entertained us more scurvily, nor with more contempt and scorn.—  
Proud pets! not so much as salute us, nor offer us to sit!  La Fl. 
No, nor speak to us, and when we spoke to them, not so much as deign to answer us with yea nor no!  Du Buis. 
Then there was such winking and whispering, such laughing and teehying with them?  La Fl. 
ay, and such yawning and rubbing of their eyes, with ever and anon looking on their Watches, as if they thought the time too long, and were a weary of our Companies.  Du Buis. 
And at last they fairly rose and went away without so much as bidding us farewell:— But I know the reason of this, and if I do not fit them for't.—  La Fl. 
As how I prithee?  Du. Buis. 
Why I have observed your damoisels in Paris here, and almost all France over, are grown of late as mad with reading your modern Romances, as Don Quixot was with reading your ancient Books of Chivalry; and look that all who visits them should be as mad and Romansick as themselves; and cause we were not so, they slighted us as they did; now will I clothe my Lackey like one of your Gallants, whom they admire so much, all Fool and Feather, and send him thither, and see how they'll entertain him.  La Fl. 
Content, and I've another as foolish and fantastical as he, who can imitate all their Cringes and Compliments, talk bilk as loud and confidently as any of them, and throw himself like a Tumbler after the Ladies, and he shall along with him.  Du Buis. 
The more the merrier.— But see here comes their Father Monsieur Bonhomme, good honest Gentleman, one who speaks as he thinks, and does as he says, and means well and honestly in every thing.   

SCAENA II.  Enter Monsieur Bonhomme. Bonhomme. 
THis Paris is nothing but noise and hurry, and one loses more spirits in a day with't here, than they can recover in a month in the Country.—  
What Monsieur Du Buisson and Monsieur La Flour? my sons I hope they shall be! and how ist ha'? have you been with my Daughters?  Du Buis. 
Yes we have seen them Sir.  Bonh. 
And how d'ye like them ha'?  La Fl. 
Their person's well, but their Entertainment not so well.  Bonh. 
How so?  Du Buis. 
Nay for that you'd best ask them themselves, and so we take our leaves and humbly thank you for all your courtesies and civilities.  Exeunt. Manet Bonhomme. Bonh. 
Hovv's this? this is very strange and abrupt? I'll lay my life these scornful Baggages have said or done somewhat now that has offended them.— I shall know that presently, and if they have, they shall hear of 't soundly.—  
Who's within there?   

SCAENA III.  Enter Lysette. Lysette. 
what's your pleasure Sir?  Bonh. 
Where are your Mistresses?  Lys. 
Above in their Closet forsooth.  Bonh. 
What a doing I pray.  Lys. 
Making Pomatum forsooth.  Bonh. 
Go call them hither presently.— I'll no more of these Pomatums, they mean to undo me with them I think; I could keep half a dozen servants with the milk, whites of Eggs, and sheep's Trotters, which they spend in daubing their fine Muzzles every day,— theyare quite spoiled again since their Mother's death, she kept them to their work, but now there's nothing but idleness with them, and reading of these paltry Romances, that fill their heads with nothing but whimsies and windmills that are perpetually turning round;— woven they were all burnt for me.   

SCAENA IV.  Enter Madmoiselle Ann, Mary and Lysette. Bonhomme. 
COme, where are you?— and how did▪ you use those Gentlemen I pray, whom I recommended for Husbands t'ye that they are gone away so discontent?  Mar. 
Better than they deserved I'm sure.  Bonh. 
How so?  Mar. 
Fine Gentlemen indeed! to begin their addresses to us with Matrimony at first dash!  Bonh. 
And how would you have them begin, with Concubinage, I pray? I'm sure 'thas been the beginning of all who 'ave meant well and honestly ever since I was born.  Mar. 
Fie Father, how simply and vulgarly you talk? introth I'm, ashamed of you! had the Grand Cyrus begun with Mandana a' this manner, or else Aruns with Clelia, w'ad had a fine Romance no doubt of it, no longer than the Posy of a Wedding Ring.  Bonh. 
What have I to do with Aruns and Clelia, or the Grand Cyrus either?  An. 
Nay father my sister tells you right, for to begin with Marriage, was to begin at the wrong end, and to take the Romance by the tail, as they use to say.  Mar. 
No father, a hundred Adventures must precede, and a hundred Intrigues, before it comes to that; as first the Cavalier must see the Lady in some Ball Temple or public solemnity, and there fall desperately in love with her.  An. 
Then by some friend or near parent or so, he's to be brought to kiss her hands, when he's to endeavour by a thousand Gallantries, to gain her favour and good esteem.  Mar. 
But not a word of Marriage all this while, until at last in some Terrase or private walk i'th' Garden, remote from Company, he's to declare his love unto her.  An. 
When presently in mighty displeasure she's to leave him, and banish him her presence.  Mar. 
Then is he to pine, languish, and consume away, ('twould pity you to see him) till at last by mediation of some friend, and's humble submission, her anger is appeased, his banishment revoked, and he restored unto her favour and grace again.  An. 
But not a word of Marriage, all this while.  Bonh. 
Never have done!  An. 
Till after a hundred persecutions of parents' displeasures, servants Treacheries, and Rivals Jealousies, with two or three duels at least (happy if he 'scape with life) by mutual consent he's to steal her away at last, and so to marry her.  Bonh. 
I thought they'd never have done,  Mar. 
This father in true Gallantry now, is to marry a la mode, a la Belle manner as they say.  Bonh. 
Fiddle fadle! without all these ceremonies and adoes, you shall marry these Gentlemen, and that presently, or I'll know why you shall not, do ye hear? you Mary and Anne, I say you shall▪  Mar. 
Oh father! for heaven's Love call us no more by those scurvy trivial names of Anne and Mary, able to spoil the best Romance as e'er was writ.  Bonh. 
Yet more Romances!  An. 
My Sister tells you true Father, and be you Judge yourself, whether Amaranthe and Polyxena, Names which we've chose ourselves, sound not a hundred times better than Malipiero and Nane, Names only for Orange women, able to shock any curious ear; out upon't, I wonder you can endure to hear them!  Bonh. 
Go to, I say, I'll none of these Amarantha's and Polixens, but have you called by the names you were Christened by at the Font and Baptism, by your Godfathers and Godmothers.  Mar. 
Still Father will you be vulgar and trivial? to talk of Godfathers and Godmothers, Christendom, Fonts, Baptism, and I know not what, as if you were Catechising! when I pray did you ever read of these in a Romance.  Bonh. 
And when did I ever read a Romance I pray?  An. 
I that 'tis that makes you so ignorant as you are, if you had, i'faith you would have better known what belongs to Gallantry and a la mode.  Bonh. 
Mode me no modes, but leave these Fopperies, and marry these Gentlemen presently, or else you both go to a Nunnery, there's the short and the long of it: My shoulders are too weak I tell you plain, to carry any longer so heavy a burden as two such as you unmarried in my house.  An: 
For my part father I could be well content to marry, so it were with one I liked.  Bonh. 
And what ist you dislike in these I pray?  Mar. 
Why a hundred things, first for a man to come a wooing in a plain and simple leg, without canons, a Hat without Feathers, and so horrible and furious an indigence of Ribbons and Garniture of his clothes, who could endure it?  An▪ 
Then their Linen was none of the finest, nor o'th' best Linniners making neither:  An: 
Besides 'ttwas all plain as my Sock without, or point of Geneva, Venice, Ragusa, Sedan, or Oreliaek.  Bonh. 
What faults they find?  An. 
Besides their hair instead of falling handsomely and regularly unto curls, as it ought to do, either stood wildly staring up an end, or else hang loosely dangling down as 'f 'twere combed a' the German manner, only with four fingers and a thumb.  Bonh. 
Tush, toys and trifles! Tell me, are they not honest and proper men?  Mar. 
Proper enough I must confess to make Noble men's Porters, or Switzers of the Guard, and for their Honesties, they look indeed as if they had their Maidenheads still, and that is as much out of fashion with Gallants, a't'other side▪  An▪ 
Then for their Language 'twas as unfashionable as their clothes, all clownish, savouring of the Country, far from the Elegance and Gallantry of Court, where they speak such douceurs, such dainty and delicate things, as 'tis a very Banquet for ladies' Ears:  Mar: 
Besides d'ye think we'd marry only with simple Gentlemen, without any honour or Titles to set them off, but bare Monsieur du Buisson and Monsieur LaFleur— one poor Hawthorn bush in France would make four or five as good Gentlemen as they:  Bonh▪ 
Come, all this is but trifling, and I'll hear no more of it: In a word, resolve to marry these Gentlemen, or you know what follows; for the rest whilst you're in the Town I give you free liberty to see and follow the fashion, visit, and be visited, do what you will, you're Mistresses of my house, and of yourselves; but in point of Marriage I'll be Master, and so farewell.  Exit. Manent the Damoiselles: Mar. 
Alas poor man, introth I pity him! he is so simple and ignorant, I see the form was deeply sunk into the matter when he was born, which makes his brain so muddy ever since.  An. 
I must needs say he's a very honest man; but for the Mode and Gallantry 'tis terra incognita to him.  Mar. 
This comes o'th' want of reading Romances now; I'll warrant ye they read nothing when he was young, but only Homilies and dull Morality.  An. 
Or at best but the History or Barlaam and josaphat.  Mar. 
Introth I have wondered with myself a hundred times, how one so heavy and dull as he, could ever beget so lively and sprightly a child as I! sure he's none of my Father, but I am Daughter of some King, or Emperor, lost in my Cradle by some strange accident, and look e'er long, by one as strange for to be found again,— I've read of as strange things as these have come to pass.  An. 
And I look to marry some Duke or Prince, or Marquis, or Count, at least; I was a dreamed of one last night.   

SCAENA V.  Enter Lysette. Mary. 
NOw! what news with you?  Lys. 
Yonder's one Marquis Mascarillio, forsooth, has sent his Valet to know if you'll be within this Afternoon, and please to be visited.  An. 
Oh sister! my dream as right as may be.  Mar. 
Go tell him he shall much honour us, but will you never learn to denounce handsomely, and a la Mode?  Lys. 
Why forsooth?  Mar. 
You should say now, yonder's Marquis such an one, desires to be informed whether you please to render yourself visible or no.  
This now is to speak your precious Language, and a la mode.  An. 
Well, go and dispatch the Messenger with an answer affirmative, and when you come again, we'll read you a lecture of it.—  Exit Lysette. 
Oh my Toutebonne, now w'ar in pass to be famous indeed, when no less than Marquess' come to visit us!  Mar. 
ay, this 'tis to live in Paris now, we might have lived in the Country long enough, ere ever we had had this honour.  Enter Lysette. An. 
Well, have you dispatched the Messenger?  Lys. 
Yes forsooth.  An. 
Then harken to your Lesson,— Always before Company, be sure you elevate your stile, and speak a Language which none may understand but the Precious Cabal,—- that which they understand not they'll admire, and admiration begets Esteem and Reverence.  Mar. 
As for example, go presently and fetch me my Zephyrus hither.  Lys. 
Her Zephyrus! what's that!  An. 
She means her Fan you fool.  Lys. 
Oh! is that her Zephyrus.  Mar. 
And bring the Councillor of the Graces along with you.  Lys. 
The Councillor of the Graces! what's that I wonder?  An. 
Her Looking-Glass she means.  Lys. 
Oh now I understand.  Mar. 
And look you do not soil and sully it with reflection of your Physiognomy.  An. 
This now is to speak the precious Language, and a la mode, which 'twere to endear on Ridiculousness itself, for any Damoiselle a la mode to be ignorant of.  Mar. 
This, only to give you a taste of it, for this time is enough; go now and make ready the House as we shall do ourselves, against he comes, and look you perfume the Rooms till we may lose ourselves in the precious mist.  Lys. 
I go forsooth.  Exit Lysette. An. 
Marquis Mascarillio d'ye call him! oh my dear! what a fine name is that?  Mar. 
And he's as fine a man I'll warrant you.  Exeunt.  

SCAENA VI  Enter the Two Naturals. 1. 
COme, now let's Play a little till Master comes.  2. 
Content; High, high, high, high, hi.  They play a many fools Gambols. 1. 
No, but I'll teach you a fine Play now,— See saw, see saw.  2. 
Nay now you play foul play, so you do.  1. 
Foul play! what's that?  2. 
Why 'tis— to play foul play.  1. 
Oh now I understand.  2. 
Now stand you there, and I'll stand here— and I'll lay you a wager I'll meet you before you shall meet me.  1. 
Come on then:  2. 
Lo ye there now.  1. 
Nay I met you first.  2. 
But you did not:  1. 
But I did.  Sganarelle knocks within. Sgan. 

Who's within there?  
Open the door here.   1. 

'Uds so! 'tis Master knocks;  
Go you and let him in.   2. 
Go you and you will.  1. 
I won't.  2. 
And I wont neither.  Sgan. 
Will no body come there! are ye all deaf? I'll make you hear.  1. 

'Uds so, Master's angry.  
I'll go and open the door.   Knocks. 2. 
Nay, I'll go.  They strive, and open it betwixt them. 1. 
But you shan't.  2. 
But I will.   

SCAENA VII.  Enter Sganarelle, and whilst they fight, all the blows light on him betwixt them. 1. 
I'll teach you to take my office from me.  Sgan. 
Why how now! what's the matter? hold, hold I say, what beat your Master? Nay if you'll needs fight, I'll fight with you.  Beats them. 1. 
Oh, oh, oh.  2. 
Oh, oh, oh.  Sgan. 
Here's fine doing indeed! 'tis time to look to you!  
Go leave your bawling, and call your Mistress presently.  1. 
I'll go.  2. 
Nay I'll go.  1. 
But you shall not.  2. 
But I will.  They strive to go out together, and are set in the Door▪ Sgan. 
Again! agree, or I'll make you agree. So this is fine! I'll set you going with a vengeance.— Shoves them in▪ Now I know she longs to hear what news I bring.   

SCAENA VIII.  Enter Isabel. Isabel. 
I'Ve done an Act here, of so bold a strain as well might put a Virgin to her shame; but Love and my extreme necessity, or never blush, or let them blush for me.— Well ha' ye been there?  A Box in her hand. Aside Sgan. 
I have.  Isab. 
And what says he?  Sgan. 
Why he says, He looks upon you or so, sometimes 'tis true, but he means no harm by't.  Isab. 
And would you believe him? you'd best say he meant no harm by this too. Just now as I was standing at my Window to take the air, who should come by but he? and what did he? but just as I turned my back, threw me this Box with this Letter in it here, into my Chamber:  Sgan. 
How a Letter!  Isab. 
ay, and when had done, away he went like Lightning, or I had thrown it like a Thunderbolt at his head;— insolent as he is! to offer to send his Letters unto me!  Sgan. 
What's in't dost know?  Isab. 
Not I, nor desire to know.  Sgan. 
Why hast thou not read it then?  Isab. 
Not for a world; for but imagine Sir, what dishonour 'twere to me, and encouragement to him, if he should think, I'd the vicious curiosity to open and read his Letters!  Sgan. 
Let me see't, I'll read it then.  Isab. 
That were the same, for than he'd think 'twere I;— no pray Sir let me send it back as 'tis.  Sgan. 
Well go thy ways for a mirror of Prudence and Discretion!  Isab. 
Besides words are but air, but when enclosed in Letters once, I should think their poisonous damp would kill me presently, should I but open them;— could I but find one now to send it by.  Sgan. 
I'll do't, I'll do't.  Isab. 
And tell him how I scorn to read his Letters.  Sgan. 
Let me alone.  Isab. 
Yet Sir, to satisfy your Curiosity, you may read it if you please.  Sgan. 
Not I, I promise you, without an Antidote, if 't, be so dangerous as you say it is.  Isab. 
Well, then pray carry it him as it is; methinks I am in pain until he have it.  Sgan. 
I'll soon rid thee of that pain I'll warrant thee, and assure thyself I'll marry thee a week sooner than I thought to have done, only for this my little pretty Rogue.  Caresses her. Isab: 
His kindness and unkindness equally does kill, As poison, though sugared, is poison still.  Aside. Manet Sganarelle. Exit. Sgan. 
ay, are you good at writing Letters i'faith? I'm glad I know it; you shall find that I'm as good at carrying them.— Now could I preach against Love Letters, and bid your Damoisells by her example take heed of them; for just as Mountebanks wrap up their poisonous Drugs in paper, so if you look on the outside of these Letters theyare are only paper, but open them and look on them within, you find them poison, very poison, the bane of Virginity, the ratsbane that makes them swell again;— methinks I'm in an excellent vein of Preaching now.—  
But to my business, holla, who's within there.  Knocks▪  

SCAENA IX.  Enter Ergasto. Ergasto. 
who's there? what Monsieur Sganarelle? your pleasure Sir?  Sgan. 
Pleasure me no pleasures, where's your friend? your friend Valerio there, that is so good at writing Letters.  Erg. 
He's not within at present.  Sgan. 
No matter, there give him that Letter, and tell him, his piece won't off, his powder's damp, and wont take fire, h'as missed of his aim this once.  Erg. 
What's all this!  Sgan. 
In plainer terms, tell him, Isabel scorns to read his Letters, but h'as sent it back to him, as 'twas sent to her.  Erg. 
I understand nothing of all this now?  Sgan: 
And d'ye hear? take notice I pray that I deliver it as 'twas delivered Sealed and unopened, & so farewell.  Exit. Erg. 
What should the meaning of this be I wonder?   

SCAENA X.  Enter Valerio. Valerio. 
O High I'm glad you're come.  Val. 
Why?  Erg. 
Here has been your old Messenger again.  Val. 
Who! Sganarelle?  Erg. 
The same, and he has left this Letter for you.  Val. 
'Tis not a Challenge, is it?  Erg. 
if it be, 'tis from Isabel, for she sent it he tells me.  Val. 
From her! Oh give it me straight then, that I may kiss it a thousand times; how's this? the Superscription is to her!  Erg. 
But open it, and see from whom the Subscription is.  Reads. 

Isabella's Letter.  
Noble Sir,  

IF I have rightly interpreted your Love,  
I hope you will not be so unjust  
to misinterpret mine; I am here in the hands  
of one I hate, and if you deliver me not  
the sooner, death shall; mean time  
I am the miserablest alive, unless you find  
some way to make me happy.   
Yours till Death ISABEL:   Erg. 
Now, what think you of this piece? ist not an Original!  Val. 
Yes Ergasto, and that of such a hand I shall think it no Idolatry to adore: Now I perceive she is as wise as fair, and I am happy, nor shall I ever rest till I have made her so:  Kisses it. Erg. 
Ha, ha, ha! what an Ass has she made of him? to make him carry this himself!  Val. 
Peace, here he comes.   

SCAENA XI:  Enter Sganarelle: Sganarelle: 
IT does me good to think how blank he'll look when he receives this Letter; I long to see him, and laugh at him: Now Sir you've received your Letter?  Val. 
I have so Sir.  Sgan. 
And you perceive by it the difference of persons, and how some have the happiness to be beloved, and other's not?  Val. 
I do so Sir, and must have patience.  Sgan. 
Poor man! he's ready to cry again;— well, and what service will you command me back? you see, I'm good at carrying Messages.  Val. 
Why you may tell her Sir, that as I only live for her so I shall die to serve her.  Sgan. 
The poor man's even desperate I see?  Val. 
And for this Letter here which you esteem so high disgrace, tell her I take it for the highest grace and favour she could do me.  Sgan. 
Even much good do't ye with't, and when w'ar married, you shall come if you please and give her thanks for it.  Val. 
How married!  Sgan. 
Yes, I'll invite you to my Wedding.  Erg. 
Can you endure this?  Val. 
Peace, inconsiderate man? ist fit that I should offend him, who has power to injure her?— I'll fright him yet, and see what that will do,— Hark you Sir, methought I heard you talk of marrying Isabel.  Sgan. 
I did so Sir, what then!  Val. 
Why then you'd best to make your Will before, or see me dead, 'twill be dangerous else, and say, I told you so.  Sgan: 
How's this! the man's desperate I think indeed; if he be such an one, I'll not invite him to my Wedding beshrew me: Hark ye Sir, now I better consider on it, I mean to be married privately▪  Val. 
Talk of Marriage again?  Sgan: 
Cry mercy Sir, if you be so angry I'm sorry I've troubled you, and so farewell:— I'll no more Messages if he be such an one.  Steals away. Manent Valerio and Ergasto. Val: 
So, this will defer his Marriage a while I hope, till I may think on some prevention, but what I can't imagine?  Erg: 
Come ne'er torment nor vex yourself, but leave it all to her; imprisoned winds either enforce their way, or cause an Earthquake; so now sh'as begun she'll ne'er give o'er, till she has throughly done:  Exeunt:  
Finis Actus Secundi.   

Actus III.  

Scaena I.  Mascarillio brought in, in a Chair by two Sedan-Men. Mascarillio. 
HOlla, holla, these baptised Mules I think have a plot to break my bones, they do so jolt and jostle their Chair against every post they meet.  Opens the Chair. 1. 
The Entry's straight Sir, and you'd be carried in.  Mas. 
And good reason, Goodman Faquin, d'ye think I'd expose my Feathers to the humidity of the air, and shoes to the rude assault of Paris dirt?  Comes out. 
So now take up y'ur luggage and begone.  1. 
You'll pay us first, Sir?  Mas. 
How!  1. 
Our Money Sir.  Mas. 
Was ever heard of such an Insolence, to demand money of me?  1. 
How would have us live Sir, if you do not pay us?  Mas. 
If you can't live without paying, there's payment for you, and there— saucy Rogue, to demand money of such Gallants as I!  Beats him. 2. 
But we'll be paid in another manner Sir, before you go, for all your Gallantry.  Takes out the Lever of the Sedan. Mas. 
How now! what mean you?  2. 
Or pay us our Money, or—  Mas. 
Hold, hold! there 'tis; now thou ask'st it in good manner, and as thou ought, but that's an unmannerly Rogue there:— Now, are you satisfied?  2. 
Yes Sir.  Mas. 
Then begone and leave me.  1. 
Stay Sir, now I'll be paid for your beating of me too, before we go, or else.—  Takes the other Lever. Mas. 
Hold, and good reason, there's somewhat for thee too; you shall find me the reasonablest man i'th' world, when you ask things in good manner, and as you ought. Now are you satisfied?  1. 
Yes, I thank you Sir.  Mas. 
No, thank your Ignobility you Rogues; for, but I scorn to draw my Sword upon such base Faquins as you, by this bright steel I'd killed you both ere this— this excuse I learned of a Gallant who was beaten by a Hackny-Coachman t'other day.— Well, get you gone now, and take heed of provoking my fury another time.  2. 
At your service Sir.  Exeunt. 
We hope you can't say but we've used you civilly?  Mas. 
ay, I, I must needs say that:— So, thus far I have played the Gallant right, never to fight when I can help it; nor pay debts, but when I cannot choose:— Now for the Ladies, which is the main business of your Gallants in the world, and when there are no more to Court and Compliment, they may go out of it, as having no more to do.  He sings, Adjusts his Canons and Feather, Surveys himself, & does all the Antic tricks Of a Fantastic Mounsieur.  

SCAENA II.  Enter Lysette. Lysette. 
MY Ladies desire you to have a little patience, Sir, and they'll instantly wait upon you.  Mas. 
No haste, no haste, my pretty Carrier of Messages; I can entertain myself well enough here the whilst, with contemplating the Historical Ornaments of the place.  Lys. 
Methinks this Monsieur in these clothes, and that feather there, looks just like some Amphibious Animal, half Bird, and half Baboon.  Mas. 
Now don't I know whether in true Gallantry, I were not to fall on the Waiting-woman first; I have a gallant Itch come upon me, and cannot hold: Hark you, hark you sweet heart, suppose one should ask you an Enigmatical Question now?  Lys. 
Excuse me Sir, I'm none of those I can assure you.  Mas. 
Right!— Thus whatsoever they understand not, they interpret straight to.— you know what:— Come, come, there's somewhat for thee; you must not be so coy— you understand me.  Lys. 
Yes very well Sir.  Mas. 
Or else thou wert no right Waiting-woman:— Come then.  Lys. 
Soft Sir, another time▪ I hear my Ladies coming.  Mas. 
This now is another trick of Gallantry, to have Wenches cozen them of their money.  Lys. 
And see theyare hear.   

SCAENA III.  Enter Mademoiselle, Mary and Anne. Mascarillio Addresses himself unto them: 
OH Heavens! Oh paradise!  Lys. 
Hai day! this Mounsieur has got the French staggers right.  Mas. 
Most fair, and most accomplished Ladies, If I importune you with my visit, 'tis your perfections have brought this trouble on yourselves, of which I am so great an Idolater, as where e'er 'tis found, I needs must go to reverence and honour it.  Mar. 
Noble Sir, there's no perfection here, but only what you bring along with you.  Mas. 
Now by your fair Eyes Ladies, which like Suns, illuminate all this other Hemisphere; your Graces and Perfection are so great, as for Wit, Beauty, and true Gallantry, you pic, repic, and Capot, all the Ladies in Paris else.  An. 
You may say what you please Sir, but we are not so vain to lend the serious of our belief, unto the Raollery of your Compliment,— I marry sister, this is a brave man indeed! you may see Nobility in his very Mien!  Mar. 
ay, and in's fashion and behaviour too! who's there? some Chamber Pulpits straight.  An. 
Some Chairs, They set Chairs. some Chairs there,— please you Sir to sit, here's a Chair that stretches forth its arms, and should be glad and proud o'th' honour of embracing you.  Mas. 
All here speaks civility even to the Chairs and Stools; but pardon me Ladies, I would fain tarry, but I see certain dangerous eyes here, that look as if they'd kill men, or rob them of their liberties at least.  An. 
We'll warrant you Sir.  Mas. 
Well Ladies, on your security I'll venture this once; nor can I sacrifice my Liberty any where better than at the Altar of your feet.  An. 
Don't ye admire him Sister?  Mar. 
Admire him! I am rapt a thousand degrees beyond Admiration!  They sit. Mas. 
And what think you of my Feather Ladies?  An. 
Oh, 'tis the very top, and top-gallant of all I ever saw! and you're the true Ostrich, t'other but a counterfeit.  Mas. 
And my Canons.  Mar. 
Oh most heavenly wide!  Mas. 
I can assure you there's more in them by half an Ell Paris measure, then in any are worn in Town beside.  Mar. 
I never saw the Elegance of Adjustement carried so high by any one before!  An. 
I Sister, this 'tis to know the fine of things, the superfine, the very fine of fines!  Mas. 
And how long Ladies is it since you made this Town happy with your Residence and abode?  Mar. 
So short a time Sir yet, as we count only by days the age of our being here.  Mas. 
And what d'ye think of Paris? is it not the Paradise of all Delights! the Treasury of all that's rich and precious, and compendium and abridgement of all wonders and rarities!  An. 
'Tis incontestible truth Sir; and I do not see, I protest, how 'tis possible for any Lady to be saved out of Paris here.  Mas. 
Why now you ravish me! and what Recreations have you had since your arrival here?  Mar. 
O Lord Sir! we've had so horrible a want and dearth of them, as w'ar even starved and famished again.  Mas. 
I'll carry you to the next new Play that's played, but than you are obliged to cry it down what e'er it be, 'tis the fashion of your Gallants now, and will get you the reputation of Wits.  An. 
That Sir we shall not fail to do, before the Music plays, or Curtain's drawn.  Mas. 
And what acquaintances, Ladies, have you made, since you came to Town?  Mar. 
None at all Sir yet.  Mas. 
I'll bring you acquainted with all the Wits of the new Collection, they come unto my Chamber every day; and but this morning I'd ha' dozen of them there; nay, if please, they shall keep an Academy at your Lodging every week.  An. 
O Lord Sir, you'll infinitely oblige us, for only such as they, govern the Fames of the Ladies here in Town, and with a Copy of Verses cry them up, or Lampoon, cry them down, when e'er they please.  Mas. 
Right; and besides, they can inform you to a half Stanza of all the Verses that are made in Paris every day, as who made a Madrigal of's Mistress Beauty, who an Ede of enjoyment, who sent an Elegy to his Mistress over night, and the answer she made unto't by next day noon.  An. 
ay, these are things to be known 'bove all your dull Morality and Philosophy.  Mar. 
ay, and Divinity too Sister.  Mas. 
Still Ladies you ravish me more and more; and since I see you're delighted with Poetry, I'll recite you some compositions of mine own.  A: 
Beseech you Sir.  Mas. 
For you must know I've a Poetical itch sometimes, and scratch for it on paper too; amongst the rest you shall hear recited in all your most celebrous Assemblies here, some hundred Songs and Sonnets of mine, as many Odes and Elegies, a thousand Madrigals, and Epigrams sans number.  An. 
And I'ave a very furious Tender for those Epigrams, methinks theyare the finest things!  Mas. 
And for those I shall fit you, for I am turning all Roman story into Epigrams.  Mar. 
And that must needs be rare and excellent! but touching the Verses Sir, you promised us.  Mas. 
You shall have them as soon as I can entreat them of my Memory; and these they are, made of a Ladies stealing my heart away, imagine it yourselves.  

The VERSES.  
Ah, ha! and have I caught you (as they say,  
Mos did his Mare) stealing my heart away.  
And would you run awaywithed wheny ' avedon;  
I'faith, i'faith, for all you'd fain be gone,  
I'll make you dearly pay for't e'er you part;  
Stop Thief, stop Thief, my heart, my heart, my heart.   An. 
Rare!  Mar. 
Excellent!  Enter Lysette. An. 
The best as e'er I heard!  Mas. 
D'ye mark that Ah, ha! at my entrance into stile, what a natural Expression it is, as much as to say, are you there i'faith? or have I caught you? as I express it afterwards ah, ha!  Mar. 
That ah, ha, alone is worth a whole Epic Poem.  Mas. 
Then have I caught you as Mos did catch his Mare; there's an Erudition for you now? taken neither from Greek nor Latin, but from an English Proverb, nothing savouring of Homer nor Virgil, and a thousand degrees at least removed from the Scholar or Pedant.  An. 
ay, and a thousand, and thousand more to that!  Mas. 
But you'd be ravished now to hear the air, I've set unto't.  Mar: 
Why are ye a Musician too! have you learned Music Sir?  Mas. 
Not learned it, but such Gallants as I, know every thing without learning.  An. 
Assuredly my dear?  Mar. 
Pray let's hear it Sir.  Mas. 
You shall, but you must consider 'tis a la Cavalier, hem, hem, ah, ha! etc.  He sings hoarsely and ridiculously with all the Grimaces of an affected Singer. An. 
Oh! most divine! the very Harmony of the Spheres.  Mar. 
I'm enthusiasmed with it!  An. 
'Tis pure Chromatic, this!  Lys. 
Methink 'tis pure Caterwouling, if this be a la Cavalier, I have enough of it.  Exit: Mar. 
Did you mark the humouring of the words? how at stealing, the Music stole away, as 'twere, and then at running, it ran away as fast.  An. 
We did, and admired it.  Mas. 
Besides, if you marked it at the word stop Thief, there was such a Hubbub, as you'd have thought a whole Heu and Cry had been following, the rest was in stilo Recitativo.  An. 
This 'tis now to know the height and depth, the longitude, latitude, and every dimension of Art!  Mas. 
I can hold no longer, ah, ah!  Cries vehemently out, they start up. Mar. 
What ail you Sir?  Mas. 
Now by your soft and sweeter bosoms Ladies, those perfumed pillows that love does rest upon! you even ravish my heart out of my breast; methinks it hangs only by a slender string: Oh, oh, oh! I languish, faint, and die!  Lies down. Mar. 
Does he not do it rarely Sister? those two Monsieurs who came a wooing to us, are not worthy to be his Laquys.  An. 
I have a certain curiosity to know if he be married, or no.  Mar. 
ay, are you there Sister? I'm glad I know it▪  An. 
And are you jealous Sister? I'm glad I know that too.  Enter Lysette. Mar. 
Now what's the news with you.  Lys. 
Yonder's one Count jodelet without, desires to know whither you please to render yourselves visible.  Mar. 
Oh! I see you'll learn in time.  Mass: 
How Count jodelet?  Starts up. An. 
ay, do you know him?  Mas. 
Know him! my only Comrade in all our former Wars; why Piladis and Orestes, and Damon and Pythias were mere strangers and enemies, compared unto us two.  Mar: 
Go introduce him straight.  Exit Lys. Mas. 
Count jodelet! now Ladies I'll promise you, you shall see the gallantest man in France, and bravest Soldier, brave upon brave, a three pyld brave.   

SCAENA IV:  Enter jodelec fantastically habited a la Soldatesque, Lysette, etc. jodelet. 
What Marquis, art thou here?  Mass▪ 
Count! I am ravished to see thee, go and salute these Ladies, that afterward I may more freely pour out myself into thy Embraces.  jod. 
By your fair leave Ladies.  Kisses their Hands. Mass: 
And how dost, ha! thou look'st somewhat pale methinks!  jod. 
The fatigues of the War, and Vigils of the Court, but I'm resolved to leave it, there's no reward for men of our merits and deservings now a days, who have lost our lives in our Countries service.  Mas. 
ay, the Children of peace carry all away now, from us the sons of War.— And how long ist i'faith since thou and I met first i'th' Wars.  jod. 
Let me see— some sixteen years as I take it▪  Mas. 
'Tis more, 'tis more man, by the same token thou commandest a Regiment of Horse on the Galleys of Malta.  jod. 
ay, we had hot service there.  Mas. 
But not so hot as afterwards at taking the half Moon at siege of Graulin.  jod. 
Half Moon! 'twas a whole one man, thou hast forgot.  Mas. 
I think it was indeed, I'm sure I've good reason to remember it, for I received this Musquetad there,— pray Ladies vouchsafe to feel here.  An. 
A very terrible wound indeed!  Lys. 
I feel nothing but only the nape of his neck.  jod. 
And I, this other coup de Granad, pray Ladies stoop, and feel here.  Mar. 
A horrible one too!  Lys. 
There's nothing but only the hollow of his Ankle; I think these Gallants swear nothing but Wounds, there's so many Wounds with them.  jod. 
But now I'll show you a terrible one indeed.  Offers to put down his Hose. An. 
Oh no, we beseech you Sir, we've seen enough already, you'll fright us with sight of more.  jod▪ 
Well, as you please; these are honourable marks and signs what men are.  Lys. 
And that's the reason it seems your Gallants now a days, especially in ladies' companies, stand with their hands in their Codpieces only to show what men they are.  Mas. 
And when didst see the Duke thine old Comrade?  jod. 
We supped together yester night, and h'as invited me for to morrow to hunt the Stag with him; wilt wilt be o'th' party sirrah?  Mas. 
I'faith, I cannot, I'm obliged to wait on the Duchess thou wotest of, out of Town.  Mas. 
theyare acquainted with all the Grandees of the Town it seems?  An. 
More honour for us to be acquainted with them.  Mas. 
But we neglect the Ladies,— Sirrah as thou cam'st in, these Ladies and I were discoursing of Verses, and thou art excellent at them I know.  jod. 
A little at Inpromptuses or extempore ones.  Mar. 
And that's the very Touchstone of a prompt and ready wit!  Mas. 
Thou shalt make some of these Ladies here.  An. 
We beseech you Sir.  Mas. 
And the subject shall be of their fair eyes.  jod. 
You put me strangely to it, Marquess, but I'll try.  
Of your fair Eyes Ladies what should I say? what should I say?  Repeats them, and is at a stand. Lys. 
I think he knows not what to say indeed.  jod. 
Pox on't, I can easily make the first verse; all the difficulty is, to make the second Rhyme unto't.  Lys. 
I think so too.  jod. 
Well Ladies, pardon me this once I have lately let blood so much in thee Poetic vein, as my Muse is but weak and feeble yet, but as soon as I shall have recovered a little strength, you shall see I'll make you as good extempore Verses (with a little study) as ever you heard.  Mas. 
Mean time what shall we do? shall we carry these Ladies abroad to take the air?  jod. 
Content, thou hast thy Coach here Marquis, hast thou not?  Mas. 
Not I, I came in a Chair.  jod. 
And I've sent mine away.  Mar. 
No matter, 't shall be for another time;— shall we have a Ball then?  Mas. 
ay, but for the Violins? the Animaters of the feet, and paradise of the Ears?  jod. 
I'll send one of my Valets for them; holla, who's there without? Basque, Lorraine, Piccard, Burquenot, Bretain, Gascoin, Norman, Perigot, none of these Valets there? par la mort bleu, there's never a Signior in all France worse served than I, I think.  Lys. 
Faith, and I think so too.  jod▪ 
To have never a Valet at hand when one has most need of them!  Lys. 
The devil of Valet did they bring along with them.  An. 
No matter, ours shall go; but then for filling parts unto our Ball 'twill be too empty else.  Mar. 
We'll send to invite our Neighbours here hard by, amongst the rest Lysette you shall go to our Cousin Isabella's, and see if the clown her Guardian will let her come:  Au. 
I know he will not, wherefore 'tis in vain.  Exit Lysette. Mar: 
No matter, she shall go only to vex him;— mean time please you to honour us so much to accept of a slight Banquet we've prepared within, you shall infinitely oblige us.  Mas. 
Y'ave abundantly regalled us Ladies with your fairer sights, but we shall wait upon you.  Exeunt.  

SCAENA V:  Enter Sganarelle, Lysette, stealing in after him. Sganarelle. 
SO, I'm glad I'm come home; were I the King, I'd make a Law against this saluting and complementing, the very Rack of conversation that sets every one's joints a stretching, with I'm your humble servant, and I know not what;— your Porter's Salutation with a thump o'th' back at meeting, and a kick o'th' breech at parting, is not half so troublesome.  Lys. 
I've stolen in after him, and he'll wonder to see me here.  Aside: Sgan. 
I like your Hollander yet, who goes plodding about his business, and never troubles himself nor others with good manners;— besides, 'tis the very University of lying, for they'll tell you theyare your servants, when they think themselves far better men than you, and say theyare glad to see you well, when they'd be far more glad to see you hanged.  Lys▪ 
Now will I show myself.  Sgan. 
How now? how came you here?  Lys. 
Why through the door, which way else should I come? you don't take me for a Lapland witch I hope, to enter by the Chimney riding upon a broom-staff?  Sgan. 
I do not know;— and what would you here I pray?  Lys. 
I'd only speak with Madamoiselle Isabel▪  Sgan. 
And from whom?  Lys. 
From my Ladies.  Sgan. 
And what to do I pray?  Lys. 
This man would make an excellent Catechist:— why they'd entreat her company at a Ball.  Sgan. 
A Ball!  Lys. 
Yes, there's the Marquis Mascarillio and Count jodelet at our house, and they'd desire her to come and bear them company.  Sgan. 
Why thouart not mad? or dost thou think me so? that I should suffer her go unto a Ball, especially in such company as those; I'll send her to the Burdell rather.  Lys: 
Why I hope you take my Ladies for honest women? and I can assure you theyare very honest Gentlemen?  Sgan. 
No matter for that, your women may be honest women, and men honest men, but put them together once, and I'll not answer for their honesties.  Lys. 
You won't let her go then?  Sgan. 
No indeed won't I, and get you gone the sooner, or I'll set you going.  Lys. 
And can you find in your heart to deny me then?  Sgan. 
I indeed can I, and beat you too if you get you not gone the sooner.  Lys. 
I who am so much your servant.  Sgan. 
She's at her Compliments!  Lys. 
And have always spoke so well of you▪  Sgan. 
I so you did to day, if you be remembered.  Lys. 
And said, that Isabel would be most happy in marrying you, and that I wondered at my heart that every one was not in love with you.  Sgan. 
And are you lying too?  Lys. 
Now tell me in conscience don't you think this true now?  Sgan. 
Perhaps I do, what then?  Lys. 
Why then you're an Ass to believe any one can be in love with that Owls face of yours, and those ass's ears, which one would swear wear horns, if you were but married once.  Sgan. 
Why thou damned Baggage, how how dar'st thou provoke me thus?  Lys. 
Or that proper person of yours half Bear, half drill, and all a Beast.  Sgan. 
If I could catch you▪  He follows her. Lys. 
And so I humbly take my leave, and rest your most humble servant.  Exit Lysette. Sgan. 
She's at her Compliments again! this woman is a compound of all women together, and he's more ingredients in her then Mithridate or Treacle, but the main is Mercury and Quicksilver.  
But where are my Urchins, where are my changelings there? I'll talk with them for this.   

SCAENA VI  Enter the Changelings. 1. 
HEre Master.  2. 
Here Master.  Sgan. 
Come hither you egrigious Idiots.  2. 
ud's so Master's angry.  Sgan. 
Did not I charge you to let no Trades-woman in, because I said they were all Bawds? and do you let waiting women in now? look better to your charge, or  They tumble over one another for fear. 
I'll so bang your fools coats, I'll make them stick like plasters to your sides:— Go call your Mistress, and leave your Tumbling tricks.  Exeunt. Manet Sganarelle. 
I must not let her know▪  
she's invited to a Ball, for fear of stirring up light species in her mind.   

SCAENA VII.  Enter Isabel. Isabel. 
HE never sends for me, but I'm afraid my plot's discovered; but custom of fearing now, has almost made me fearless: Well, have you delivered the Letter?  Sgan. 
ay, I'ave paid him in his own coin I think.  Isab. 
And what said he?  Sgan. 
A great many good morrows, I know not what, but I've poured water to his wine I'll warrant ye.  Isab. 
Rather oil to his fire, for he is grown more violent and outrageous then ever.  Sgan. 
How so?  Isab. 
Why as I'm credibly informed, he intends a terrible Riot on your house, and to come to night and take me away by force.  Sgan. 
Methought he talked somewhat desperately indeed; but how come you to intelligence of this?  Isab. 
Why this Note with a stone wrapped in't was thrown into my Chamber window, I know not by whom.  Sgan. 
I must have that window damned up.  Isab. 
But I imagine by one of my Cousins.  Sgan. 
Very like; and what shall we do then?  Isab. 
Why go to him, and tell him soundly of it, ask him if he beened ashamed; you deal too gently with him, tell him I defy his worst, let him come and take me away if he dare— offer to take me away from my dear Guardian!  Fayns. Sgan. 
He shan't, he shan't, ne'er fear, I'll defend you.  Isab. 
You won't sight with him?  Sgan. 
Not I beshrew me, I han't so much o'th' Cavalier, I thank heaven, to fight and die for my Mistress, that's just like selling one's horse to buy him Provender, so plays fools.  Isab. 
Well go then, and tell him withal that less he makes an end the sooner, he'll put me to terrible straits and plunges, and make me take some desperate resolution, would I might speak with him, you should hear how I'd rattle him.  Sgan. 
I would you did for me, for I'ave no mind to't, now I know what a dangerous man he is; well, get you in, and let me alone with him.  Isab. 
I go most gladly to avoid his sight, which I so abhor, and hate as I should fear to go even to paradise if he were there.  Manet Sganarelle. Exit. Sgan. 
I'll marry her, that's certain, for I see she loves me, and there's like to be no love lost if she holds on as she begins,— but let me see, it behooves me now more than ever to look unto my house▪  
Where are you there?   

SCAENA VIII.  Enter the Changelings. 1. 
HEre Master.  2. 
Here Master.  Sgan. 
I'd best get a couple of Halberds for them,— come hither I'm to go abroad d'ye hear, and now be sure you be more careful than ever, to let none enter, especially if any young Gentleman come be sure you keep him out.  1. 
I Master.  2: 
I Master.  Sgan. 
Suppose me the man, now let me see how you'll deal with him.  1. 
Get you gone.  2. 
Get you gone I say.  Sgan. 
Good, and if he go not the sooner thrust him out. Let's see.  1. 
Away.  2. 
Away I say.  They thrust him. Sgan. 
Very good, and if he won't go, beat him soundly, I'll bear you out in't.  1. 
Won't you go, I'll make you.  2. 
And so will I.  Sgan. 
Excellent!  They beat him▪ 
Hold, hold, 'tis well they have no Halberds now, these fools lay on without any mercy;— Now suppose he should flatter you, and say, pray let me in, and offer you money, let's see what you'd do!  They offer to take the Money. 
What would you take it?  1. 
Yes, and then we'd beat him again for offering it us.  Sgan. 
That's well, They beat him again. or else I'd beaten you for taking it;— Hold, hold, 'tis enough— I see they are not such very fools as I take them for, or in taking Money all are wise alike.  
Well, being so well instructed, go and look well to your charge, and my benediction w'ye.  Exeunt: 
This 'tis to do things wisely; now will I go and do my other business as wisely as I can.  Exit.  
Finis Actus Tertij.   

Actus VI.  

Scaena I.  Enter Lysette▪ 
I'm glad ●h'ave almost done within, there was such eating I thought they would have eat us all; if these be your French Counts and Marquess', they are the hungriest ones as e'er I saw! then they pocketed up more sweetmeats and banqueting stuff then twenty Gossips at a Christening. Oh! here they come at last.   

SCAENA II.  Enter the damoisels with Mascarillio and jodelet, and other Gallants, and Ladies for the Ball. Mascarillio. 
What are the Violins come yet?  Lys. 
Yes Sir.  Mas. 
Let them strike up then, and play me a Corrant, I'll take the hardiess for Prologue to the Ball to dance you a Coranto Ladies.  Mar. 
You'll much honour us.  Lys. 
Faith if his dancing be no better than his singing, the dancing Bears shall dance the Tricotees with him for a wager.  Mas. 
Sa— begin there. Tout beau, tout beau, not so fast, not so fast I say,— firm, firm, en Cadence, en Cadence and be hanged! Oh Diable! there's no enduring them, Violins de village!  Dances. Lys. 
They play well enough if he could but dance as well, I knew well enough what a manner of dancer he was.  Mar. 
Come now, le's have our Ball.  They dance singly and together, and at the end.  

SCAENA III.  Enter Du Buisson and La Fleur, with Cudgels. Du Buisson. 
OH! have we found you! must you be dancing here, and make us dance attendance for you at home? there's music for you if you'll needs be dancing.  La Fl. 
And there.  They beat the Laqueys, the rest, all but the damoisels run off. Mas. 
How now! what insolence is this.  Mar. 
Hold, hold, this was not in the bargain though.  Du Buis. 
Had you none, you insolent Rascals, to abuse with your impostures! but these Ladies here whom we both love and honour.  La Fl. 
We'll make ye an example for it.  Exeunt hastily. Manent the damoisels with Mascarillio and jodelet. An. 
What's the matter d'ye know?  Lys. 
The matter's clear, they have been soundly beaten.  Mas. 
Pho! only a wager.  jod. 
ne'er trouble yourselves, all this is nothing.  Mar. 
D'ye make nothing of a beating then!  Mas. 
Pho! a hundred such things as these pass amongst Friends.  An. 
For you, your Gallantry privileges you from fighting; but for him so great a Soldier, and so brave a man, Brave upon brave, a three piled brave.  To Mas. jod. 
Why there 'tis now, the more valiant, hardy to provoke to anger still; but when their anger's up once, woe to those who provoked them.  Mas. 
Were they but here again you should see now how we would handle them.  Mar. 
Behold them here.  Lys. 
They look methinks as if they could wish them away again.   

SCAENA IV:  Enter Du Buisson and La Fleur again with Servants. Du Buisson. 
THere, strip them, strip them, that that these Ladies may see when their borrowed Plumes are of, what pitiful Jackdaws they are.  Mar. 
Why who are they?  La Fl. 
Why Ladies if you'll needs have the naked truth, these are our Laqueys.  Both. 
How! Laqueys!  Laqueys. 
At your service.  Lys. 
I knew what manner of Counts and Marquesses they were.  Mar. 
Were ever any so abused!  Du Buis. 
Right Ladies, and that makes us so severe in punishing them.  La Fl. 
Nor is this but a light preparative to the punishment we mean to inflict on them at home.  Du Buis. 
Dispatch, dispatch there.  jod. 
There goes the County.  As they take away their clothes. Mas. 
And there the Marquisat.  Mar. 
I am so confounded and ashamed I know not what to say, nor what to do.  La Fl. 
Our shame and confusion is no less than yours, that any who had any Relation unto us, should presume to offer ye this injury and affront.  Du Fl. 
And we beseech you to believe we had no hand in it, but only in the punishing it.  La Fl. 
And if you think them not sufficiently punished, we leave them w'ye to punish them more; and so for this time we take our leaves.  Exeunt. Manent the Damoiselles and Laqueys stripped to their shirts and Calcons. An: 
Get ye gone ye Rogues, how dare ye tarry here, considering how you've abused us:  Mas. 
We only tarry to know what farther service you please to command us, if you need one now to run a race for you behold your man ready stripped:  jod. 
And I to do the double supersault for you, if you love feats of Activity.  Mar: 
Away ye Rogues, away.  Mas. 
This! to Counts and Marquesses.  An. 
Yet dare ye usurp those Names?  jod. 
Why not, I'm sure if we were elsewhere, we might pass for such, and no body question it.  Enter one of the Music. 1. 
Who pays us for our Music here?  Mas. 
Ask Monsieur le Count  1. 
Will you Sir?  jod. 
Ask Monsieur le Marquis there.  Mas. 
Why thus goes the world, when men once are fallen into adversity every one falls upon them:  Lys. 
Hark ye, hark ye Sir, do you know me I pray?  Mas. 
The waiting woman too!  Lys. 
D'ye remember how you'd have deboiched me to day? now could I find in my heart to beat you for't, but that you're sufficiently beaten already.   

SCAENA V.  Enter Monsieur Bonhomme. Bonhomme. 
Where are these Baggages? where are these damoisels a la mode here?  Mar. 
My Father, here! then we are shamed for ever!  Bonh. 
Here's fine doings! fine Revels w'ye, is there not?  
Monsieur Du Buisson and La Fleur yonder have told me all; you must have your Counts and Marquesses, no worse men serve your turns,— and are these they ay pray?  Mas. 
All that are left of them.  Bonh. 
Get ye gone, and that presently too, or I'll not leave you so much as your skins, but strip you of them as others have of your Clothes.  Mas. 
Come Brother w'ad best be gone and leave this ungrateful place where men of our good parts for singing and dancing are no more rewarded.  jod. 
And where naked virtue's not looked upon, but men are more regarded for their clothes, then for themselves.  Exeunt. Manent the Damoiselles and Monsieur Bonhomme, &c: Bonh. 
Go, get you in too, for I'm too angry w'ye to chide you now, but when my anger's over once, expect to hear from me, and that soundly too.  Mar. 
Come Sister le's go and think on some way of repairing our honours.  Exeunt. 1. 
Will you pay us for our Music Sir?  Bonh. 
I marry will I, there's payment for you, and there again, must you be fiddling here amongst the rest? I'll fiddle you.—  Beats him. 
I'm vexed at heart with these foolish Baggages, and shall be more; when once 'tis known in Town, we shall have the Boys hoot them as they pass the streets, and call one Madam the Countess, t'other Madam the Marchioness: besides, I fear th'as quite broke off the match with these Gentlemen and them;— I must go seek to make all whole again, or else I shall not know what to do with them.  Exit.  

SCAENA VI  Enter Sganarelle. 
YOnder's the house, but I know not what's the matter, I'm nothing nigh so forwards to knock as I was wont to be; but fall back fall edge: I am resolved, yet softly, softly Sganarelle, for fear of angering him,— and see here he comes already, now han't I breathe enough to blow up the bladder of a whiting mop.  Knocks:  

SCAENA VII.  Enter Valerio and Ergasto: Valerio. 
IAm enraged, that I can think of no expedient to free her from this savage beast?  Erg. 
Peace, yonder he is.  Sgan. 
Methought I heard him say, he was enraged. I'm more and more afraid of him.  Val. 
Now Sir what news with you? you're never without some or other I know.  Sgan. 
Pardon me Sir, I'm afraid I trouble you too often.  Speaks fleeringly. Val. 
Not a whit, not a whit, ne'er fear it.  Erg. 
Has strangely changed his Tone and Countenance, what e'er's the matter.  Sgan. 
But I am but a Messenger, you must consider.  Val. 
I do consider it.  Erg. 
The Rogue's abominably afraid, now I perceive, faugh! how he stinks!  Val. 
And what says Madamoiselle Isabel? for I know you come from her!  Sgan. 
Why she commends her t'ye, and says that she is credibly informed you intent a terrible Riot on my house, and to come to night and take her away by force.  Erg. 
'Slid! she but instructs thee what thou shouldst do.  Val. 
Well, and what more?  Sgan. 
And says, that if you make not an end the sooner, you'll put her to terrible straits and plunges, and make her take some desperate resolution.  Val. 
Poor soul! it grieves me at heart to think what straits and plunges indeed I put her to;—  Aside. 
But does she say this indeed?  Sgan. 
If you won't believe but go along with me, and you shall hear her say so much herself;— I must do any thing to content him.  Aside. Erg. 
'Slid take him at his word.  Val. 
Well Sir, since you'll needs have it so, I'll go along w'ye, though unwillingly.  Sgan. 
I can't blame you, for I'll warrant ye a sound chiding:— I'll but go a little way, and call you presently.  Val. 
We'll go along w'ye if you please.  Sgan. 
Pox on him! would I were well rid of him.  Aside. 
I'll instantly be here again.  Val. 
what need you make more labours than one of it? we'll go together;— Come.  Sgan. 
What before you Sir! pray.  Val. 
Beseech you.  Sgan. 
Never Sir.  Val. 
Nayed must be so.  Sgan. 
To obey your commands then since you'll needs have it so, and show you the way.  Val. 
This is the first time I think that ever he Complemented.  Erg. 
'Tis strange indeed! but what ist fear can't do?  
that tames wild beasts, and makes him civil too.  Exeunt.  

SCAENA VIII.  Enter Monsieur Bonhomme, Du Buisson Bonhomme. 
COme ne'er deny it, I know it was your plot, and thank you for it, thank you heartily, they may well style you their Esculapius, you have done so miraculous a cure on them, to let them see their follies and vanities, see them to their shame, and shame unto amendment.  DuBuis. 
If't be so w'ar most glad of it, for we confess we love them, love them heartily; but were their Beauties and their Fortunes centuplied, we would not marry them as they were before;— I love a little noble Pride in Women, but hate a disdainful one.  La Fl. 
And I a little vanity in the sex, it shows handsomely in them, for vanity in women it is like allay in Coin, a little no ways abases it, but renders it only more ductil and pliable.  Du Buis. 
But in such excess there's no enduring it, and all our whole Estates in a year or two, would be set flying after the mode and fashions, and one half acre of St. Germane Fair would consume a hundred of ours in the Country, only in toys and trifles.  Bonh. 
Never fear, for I tell you theyare quite changed from what they were, and never Circe's so transformed others, nor Proteus himself, as you have transformed them.  La Fl. 
If it be so, 'tis well; but still we doubt it.  Bonh. 
And if you won't believe me, but go along with me, and believe yourselves.  Du Buis. 
Well, once more we'll venture; but if once more we find ourselves deceived—  Bonh: 
ne'er trust me again; for more assurance; I'll go before, and leave you to come after, mean time pray put yourselves a little more i'th' mode and fashion.  La Fl. 
Why so?  Bonh. 
For a Certain reason I have, womens' affections follow their eyes, and the way to take the one is to take the other first, they love to see men gallant and fashionable, and the neglect of it, they take as a neglect unto themselves.  Du Buis. 
Well, for this once we'll follow your advice.  Bonh. 
Pray do, you'll oblige me in't, and so farewell, within this hour I shall expect you.  La Fl. 
And we shall not fail to come.  Exeunt Several ways.  

SCAENA IX:  Enter Sganarelle, Valerio and Ergasto, a Song within. Sganarelle. 
THat's she that sings there:  
So, now tarry here a little, and I'll go fetch her straight, but expect a sound chiding.  Exit. Va. 
And I deserve it, I know not with what face to look on her, but I hope she'll be so merciful to think 'thas rather been want of ability than will, that I've obeyed her commands no sooner, and that occasion has rather been wanting unto me, than I to it.   

SCENA X.  Enter to them Sganarelle and Isabel. Isabel: 
NOw what ist you'll show me?  Isab. 
That which you'll wonder to see I'm sure:  Sgan. 
Some fine sight I'll warrant you:  Sgan. 
Look! d'ye see who's yonder!  Isab. 
Ha! Valerio!  Sgan: 
I knew you'd wonder to see him here.  Isab. 
Help me dissimulation, or else I shall betray my joy to see him.  Aside. 
And was't you that brought him hither?  Sgan. 
Who else dost think?  Isab. 
Y'ave done very well, and I'm much beholding t'ye, to bring such Gallants as these unto your house; I wonder what you mean by it!  Sgan: 
Nay, be not angry now,— I only brought him to hear confirmed by you what I have told him from you; as first, that you observed well enough how he followed you, and the amorous glances he gave you too.  Isab. 
All this I bid him tell you.  Sgan. 
Go too then, these are Truths I hope,— and you would not believe me now;— then for the Letter.—  Isab. 
I confess I sent that too.  Sgan. 
Go too then, these are truths I hope still,— and did you not bid me tell him you were informed he intended a terrible Riot in my house, and to come to night and take you away by force?  Isab. 
I did so.  Sgan. 
Very good still all these are truths I hope.  Isab. 
And that if you made not an end the sooner you'd put me to terrible straits and plunges, and make me take some desperate resolution.  Val. 
All this he told me too:  Sgan. 
Very good then, all these are truths I hope still.  Isab. 
And are you not ashamed all this being so, that I woman should send unto ye so oft, and you a man should never answer me; or only by words, not by effects and deeds:— Was this done like a Gentleman?  Sgan. 
Well said, I told you she would chide you; but thou dost not chide him enough.  Val. 
I confess your Reproaches are just, but I beseech you to consider all the difficulties I had, and believe that I'm more unfortunate than criminal.—  Isab. 
Well then, for your greater satisfaction (if yet you be not satisfied) know there stands a couple of you, of which the one I love, the other hate as much.  Sgan. 
Mark that now.  Isab. 
The one is all my pleasure and delight, t'other all my pain and torment.  Sgan. 
Mark that again.  Isab. 

T'one, finally, I'd have for Husband rather than my life,  
Tother I'd sooner die— then be his wife.  
Does this content you now?   To Sgan. Sgan. 
I child of mine own Education, it does; and in sign of it— there kiss my hand.  Erg. 
A special favour.  Isab. 
Well, now if you be satisfied, will you get you gone!  Val. 
Yes Lady, I go, and since I well perceive who 'tis you love, and who you hate so much, I shall soon rid you of his hateful sight.  Isab. 
Pray do then, and know in any one Action you can't oblige me more; for I confess I'd rather see a Basilisk.  Sgan. 
Ay, say not so.  Isab. 
Why?  Sgan. 
Thou'lt kill him quite, dost not see how sad he is already;— poor man! I pity him, but I cannot cry.  Isab. 
Nor shall you laugh long I hope.  Aside. Sgan. 
What are you here still, I thought you had been gone with a nose thus long at least;— now I'm on mine own dunghill I may crow over him.  Val. 
'Tis well Sir, you're a happy man that may tarry here whilst I must part from hence; yet shall I never repent my love to her, nor envy her's to you.  Sgan: 
Do what you will, so you get you gone, for you know she can't endure to see your face, wherefore I pray try a little how she'll endure to see your back.  Erg. 
How I could beat the Rogue!  Val. 
Come, come, le's go and never mind him.  Sgan. 
So, so, 'tis very well, Oh what a comfortable sight it is yet a little more,— so now 'tis well.  Exeunt Valerio & Erg. Manent Sganarelle and Isabel. Isab. 
Fie, fie, you jeer him most unmercifully.  Sgan. 
No 'tis you, this was but a little pleasant Raillery; but thou wert too bitter with him, i'faith thou wert; that of the Basilisk killed him quite: I'll marry thee presently for that conceit.  Isab. 
How!  Sgan. 
I am resolved on't, and tomorrow morning fresh and fasting I'll dispatch the business.  Isab. 
I'm justly plagued for my dissembling,— you won't have time sufficient to prepare and put all things in readiness so soon for the Wedding, Sir.  Sgan. 
I'll warrant you a little preparation will suffice.  Isab. 
Nor I to provide my Wedding Clothes.  Sgan. 
There's no need of provision.  Isab. 
My Cousins will look to be invited too.  Sgan. 
I'll none of these Invitations, 'tis but an unnecessary charge and trouble.  Isab. 
No way to prevent it!— Oh! I feel myself very ill on the sudden.  Sgan. 
'Tis but a qualm that presently will over, I'll but go and see the writings drawn and look to find you well at my return.  Isab. 
But pray let me not be molested then, for I'll to bed, and hope a little rest will make me better.  Sgan. 
Do, and sleep soundly; and so good night.  Exit. Manet Isabel. Isab. 
What shall I do? this makes me desperate, and just like those who fly great fires, rather consider what it is they fly, then whither 'tis they go; so to avoid his hateful Nuptials, I must do somewhat, and care not what I do. The worst is dying, and howe'er death be Hateful enough, 'tis lovelier yet than he:  Exit.  
Finis Actus Quarti:   

Actus V.  

Scaena I.  Enter Isabel. 
HAving consulted all my love and hate, I am resolved by favour of the night to leave this loathed house, and take my flight unto Valerio's, I know there is danger in it,  
But those who weigh all dangers may befall e'er they resolve, shall ne'er resolve at all.   

SCAENA II.  Enter Sganarelle. Sganarelle. 
SO, I've got the writings drawn.—  Isab. 
Ay me! Who do I hear?  Sgan. 
Let me see if I have not lost them.  Searches his Pockets. Isab. 
Envious Fortune! that never yet were't friend to virtuous love, hadst thou no time but now to declare thyself an enemy?  Sgan. 
No, here they are, I was afeared I'd lost them.  Isab. 
Fixed and surprised 'twixt fear and strong desire,  
I neither dare go on, nor yet retire, this is such a misfortune, there is no remedy against but poison and precipices.  Sgan. 
So now I'll go home.  Isab. 
But this is not a time to spend in vain complaints, Somewhat I must do.  Sgan. 
Holla! who goes there? I'm afeared 'tis Valerio come to steal Isabel away,— Oh for three blanks of courage more, for what I have will hardly serve my turn.  Isab. 
It shall be so;— who's there Guardian.?  Sgan. 
Isabel!  Isab. 
The same.  Sgan. 
What make you here? you said you were ill, and meant to go to bed, and I thought yed been in your first sleep o'er this.  Isab. 
And so I had, but for an extraordinary accident that happened me.  Sgan. 
What accident?  Isab. 
Not so hasty I beseech you,— Why just as I was ready to go to bed, who should come to visit me but my Cousin Madamoiselle Mary.  Sgan. 
At this time of night?  Isab. 
Yes Sir, and what d'ye think her business was?  Sgan. 
Nay— I know not.  Isab. 
Nor could you imagine I'll warrant you— I would I could—  Aside. Sgan. 
What was't? ha!  Isab. 
Why Sir, having heard it seems that Valerio intended to come and steal me away to night▪—  Sgan. 
Oh? that shows that it was she who gave you the intelligence of 't:— well on.  Isab. 
What does she, but entreat me of all loves that she might come and take my place to night.  Sgan. 
And so be stolen away instead of you?  Isab. 
Right Sir.  Sgan. 
But why this?  Isab. 
Why Sir you must know she has loved Valerio long, and quite despairing of all other ways, she would needs try this way to gain his love▪  Sgan. 
And so put a trick upon him?  Isab. 
Yes Sir.  Sgan. 
She's nothing else but tricks I think;— and would you consent to this?  Isab. 
Oh no Sir, but I dissuaded her all I could, and told her what a dishonour it would be to her, and to myself, till seeing all my dissuasions were in vain, I seemingly at last consented, intending privately to ask your Counsel and advice in it.  Sgan. 
Where is she?  Isab. 
Within Sir.  Sgan. 
Why then go presently and turn her out of doors, I'll no such tricks played in my house, and why are you out of doors at this time of night?— let me examine that.  Isab. 
Why only to see if I could ' spy you coming, I did so long for your coming home.  Flatters him. Sgan. 
Oh! 'tis well,— well▪ go your ways, and do as I bid you:— Where is she! let me come to her, you shall hear how I'll rattle her.  Isab. 
Oh by no means Sir, you'll shame her quite, and me too, for she'll think I have betrayed her t'ye; rather let me by fair persuasions seek first to send her hence, and then if that wont do, use your discretion▪  Sgan. 
Do't any ways so you rid the house of her.  Isab. 
And as she passes by, pray seem to take no notice of her▪  Sgan. 
Well, well, at your request I will not,— go and dispatch presently:  Isab. 
So, thus far all goes well, Aside: now muster up thy whole self Isabel to deceive him, and get away from him, the rest were only light assays, but this when it is done shall be my Masterpiece.  Manet Sganarelle. Exit. Sgan. 
Here's brave doings! and fine order in my Consins' house, I have heard of all their Rex to day, and would not for twenty pound but have heard of it; but this surpasses all, to have his Daughters rambling abroad at this time of night alone, and on such Errants too! were she my charge, I'd break the neck of her; but Isabel is far from doing thus, thanks to her good breeding and education▪ But where are my Urchins, I'll talk with them for this; where are you there?   

SCAENA III.  Enter the Two Fools. 1. 
HEre Master.  2. 
Here Master.  Sgan. 
Why ye Changelings▪ ye Idiots.  2. 
'Uds so Master's angry!  Sgan. 
Did not I charge you to look well to my house, and let none enter whilst I was abroad, and d'ye let your damoisels Errand in!  1. 
Oh, Oh, Oh.  2. 
Oh, Oh, Oh.  1. 
Why d'ye beat us? we saw none indeed:  Sgan. 
Therefore I beat you, you negligent Dog-boults, for you should have seen them, and kept them out too;— Well, go your ways, and as you like this, look better to your charge hereafter.  Manet Sganarelle. Exeunt. Sgan. 
I perceieve that those who care not how things are done, may trust others▪ but those who'd have them well done indeed, must trust unto themselves; here after I'll look to my house myself, and then deceive me those who can. Hark! I hear some stirring within, I think she be coming forth.  Isabella within. 
Well Cousin to disabuse you, in fine, your stay is all in vain, there's no Valerio comes here to night, I can assure you, my careful Guardian has ta'en order for that, wherefore I pray be gone.  Sgan. 
I like her well, she tells her plainly of it without dissembling.  Isab. 
As for my Clothes you may keep them, and send them me to morrow morning, and so good night; you'll excuse me that I do not wait upon you out.  Sgan: 
Now, now, she's coming, I'll stand close and observe her.   

SCAENA IV.  Enter Isabel Veiled. Isabel. 
NOw Night, put on thy darkest mantle, and hide me in't.  Sgan. 
So— I'm glad my house is rid of her, which way goes she? what directly to Valerio's? Here's a desperate wench now? cares not to put fire and tow together, we shall have a brave flame of it anon.  Isab. 
This is the house, now Love after so many storms and dangers past, here let me find a happy port at last▪   

SCAENA V.  Enter Valerio rushing out. Val. 
I Am resolved I'll either die, or free my Isabel from her Captivity.  Isab. 
Live, live Valerio, for behold her here▪  Val. 
Ha! Isabel?  Isab. 
The same.  Sgan. 
But you lie▪ though, for all your counterfeiting her, and her voice so well.  Aside. Isab. 
I fear now my Valerio may less esteem his Conquest of me, having gained me so early as has done.  Val. 
Rather the more, the more a thousand times, for what we gain with difficulty we use to attribute chiefly to our own industry, but coming by you so easily as I do, I must attribute all the thanks to you.  Isab. 
I fear I shall be seen here▪  Looks fearfully about. Val. 
Come in then dearest, and hide you in mine Arms.  Isab. 
But by the port o'th' Temple I dare not enter, Honour forbids it.  Val. 
You are a thing so sacred, you make each place a Temple where you are: Mean time your scrupulous honour needs not fear.  
By that port only you shall enter here.  Exeunt. Manet Sganarelle. Sgan. 
So, get you together with all my heart, pity two houses should be troubled w'ye, and I'm glad mine's rid of you: Now could I but meet mine honest Cousin to confer notes together, how I should laugh at him? and see in good time he's here.   

SCAENA VI  Enter Mounsieur Bonhomme Sganarelle. 
OH Cousin! my dear Cousin well; met, I'm heartily glad to see you well.  Bonh. 
And I you; you're grown very kind and Complimental of late methinks! I'm glad to see't, 'tis a good sign.  Sgan. 
Right Cousin, a very good sign, a sign that all goes well, and I congratulate w'ye.  Bonh. 
For what?  Sgan. 
Why for the high advancement of Madamoiselles your Daughters there.  Bonh. 
To what I pray?  Sgan. 
To the Dignity of Countess and Marchioness;— and how I pray does the honourable Lords the Count and Marquis their Husbands?  Bonh. 
You're very pleasant.  Sgan. 
Have I not reason? being allied unto such noble Personages? and where I pray is your Daughter Madamoiselle Mary, if one might be so bold to ask?  Bonh. 
Why at home I think.  Sgan. 
Oh! you do but think so; but I should be ashamed were I as you, and she my charge, not to know for certain where she were.  Bonh. 
But why d'ye ask the question?  Sgan. 
For a certain reason I shall tell you presently, d'ye know that house I pray? and who lives there?  Bonh. 
Why Mounsieur Valerio as I take it.  Sgan. 
You take it right, and thereby hangs a tale:  Bon. 
What tale?  Sgan. 
Why of him and your Daughter, and both together; for the plain truth is, she's run away from you, and has married Valerio.  Bonh. 
It cannot be!  Sgan. 
Nay, pray heaven it be no worse; and now I hope you see the difference Cousin betwixt our two procedures, yours by the way of mildness and gentleness, and mine by that of rigour and severity.  Bonh. 
I see nothing yet, and shall believe nothing of all you say, until I see it with these eyes of mine.  Sgan. 
If that be all your difficulty, you shall soon see it. Holla! who's within there?   

SCAENA VII.  Enter Valerio and Isabel Veiled. Valerio. 
Who knocks there?  Sgan. 
None but friends;— Look there, d'ye see her now?  Bonh. 
Why this is Isabel.  Sgan. 
Ha, ha, ha! he's deceived as well as t'other there,— conceal yourself still, and I'll keep your council since he'll needs be deceived, you shall see how finely I'll deceive: Well, are you contented who ere it be, that he should marry her?  To Isab: Bonh. 
I am with all my heart; and are you so too?  Sgan. 
with all my heart too, there's my hand on't.  Isab. 
Why then I thank you Sir.  unvails Sgan. 
How! Isabel!  Isab. 
Yes Sir.  Bonh. 
Did I not tell you so!  Sgan. 
Poor Sganarelle! how art thou cozened then?  Bonh. 
And now I hope you see the difference betwixt our two procedures, yours by way of rigour and severity, and mine by mildness and gentleness?  Sgan. 
Now were I a Poet what Lampoons could I make against all womankind.  Isab. 
As for my portion, by good fortune Sir 'twas left in your hands by my deceased Father to be paid me at day of Marriage.  Bonh. 
'Tis confessed, and I shall be ready to pay it whensoe'er you please to demand it.  Isab. 
Then Sir to you, I've nothing else to say, but only to thank you for the care you've had of my good breeding and education:  Sgan. 
And is this the fruit of it?  Isab. 
Even such as it deserves, and when I have any slaves to breed hereafter, I'll commend them to your care.  Val. 
And I thank you Sir for all the good offices you've done me of carrying Letters and Messages betwixt us; without whose mediation I confess w'ad never been so happy as we are.  Sgan. 
Nor I so unhappy▪— mocked and jeered on all sides; Well, I dare not be angry with them, but when I'm at home my Changelings shall dearly pay for it;— mean time my comfort is, you have as little joy of your Daughters as I of her here, and have as much reason to grieve for the marring of their Marriages, as I for the making of hers here.  Bonh. 
You're deceived Sir, their Marriages are forwarder than you imagine: And here behold the Bridegroom's come, ready prepared for it.   

SCAENA VIII.  Enter Monsieur Du Buisson, and La Fleur, gallantly Attired, Mascarillio and jodelet in their Laqueyes Clothes. Sganarelie. 
NAy, if all be Married but I, 'tis time for me to go home, and hang myself; but first, though it failed the last year, I'll go and preach the end of the World this year infallibly.  Exit. Bonh. 
So, now I like you, you appear like Bridegrooms, and yourselves, and your Mistress, needs must like you too. What? my Count and Marquis! I am glad to see your Honours well.  Mas. 
Quelque chose Monsieur pour boire vostre sante.  jod. 
Somewhat to drink your health Sir▪  Bonh. 
What Counts and Marquesses beg?  Mas. 
Yes in Court Sir.  jod. 
And out of Court sometimes too.  Bonh. 
Well, there's somewhat for acting your parts so well.  Mas. 
Gramercy Monsieur.  jod. 
We thank you Sir.   

SCAENA IX.  Enter Lysette: Bonhomme. 
Well, where are your Mistresses?  Lys. 
In the other world I think by this time.  Bonh. 
How so?  Lys. 
Why yonder's the strangest change and alteration with them, t'one instead of Romances, reads nothing now but spiritual Books, amongst the rest sh'as got the Spur of Devotion, and reads it all day, and I think mean▪ s to lie with't a nights too.  Du Buis. 
He should have but a cold bedfellow then that marries her.  Lys. 
Tother has got the Sick-man's salve, and instead of making Pomatum, studies nothing now but making Salves and Unguents for the poor.  La Fl. 
Hei day!  Lys. 
And means to go shortly and practise in an Hospital.  La Fl. 
There let her practise for me, I should be sorry my wife should smell of nothing but Salves and Plasters, and talk of nothing but scald heads, and scabbed skins.  Bonh. 
Here's a strange and miraculous Conversion now!  Du Buis. 
A conversion and a half! I'd rather have my wife bodily then spiritually proud and vain.  La Fl. 
We shall have them preach shortly, and of all things bless me from a preaching-wife   

SCAENA X.  Enter Madamoiselle Mary with a Book, Anne with a Galley pot in her hand, etc. Du Buisson. 
OH! here they come.  Bonh. 
And see there's the Spur of Devotion, and there the Sick-man's Salve, let's stand close and observe them.  Mar. 
Look Sister, i'th' first part of the Grand Cyrus here, there's the pretiiest story of the Belle Incognita, as e'er thou re'dst:  Bonh. 
How's this! is this her Spur of Devotion!  An: 
And here's the best Pomatum as ever skinned Ladies face.  La Fl. 
And this her Sick-man's Salve? I'm glad of this i'faith.  Bonh. 
Why thou lying Baggage didst thou not tell me they were converted, and had quite left off their follies and vanities.  Lys. 
And so they have Sir if one may believe themselves, I'm sure they told me so;— Come, come, and leave off your dissembling, you make me be chid for you here.  Mas. 
'Tis true, we but dissemble indeed.  Bonh. 
Oh! that's well yet:  Mar. 
For we are truly converted.  La Fl. 
What! more turnings yet?  Mar. 
And mean to leave off this vain and wicked world, and betake us presently to a Nunnery.  Lys. 
Beshrew me if you do, you shall go alone for me, for I'll not follow you.  Bonh. 
Come, come, leave this sooling, and talk no more of Nunneries, but think of Marriage; behold your Husbands here:  An. 
Which?  Bonh. 
Why these here, don't you see?  An. 
Who, those? with those profane legs there in surplices!  Du Buis. 
They're turned fanatics!  Mar. 
And those light shuttlecock heads that look as if they'd fly?  An. 
No, those whom we were to marry, were grave and sober Gentlemen, and far from the folly and levity of these:  Mar. 
Sure these are the Lackeys again!  Bonh. 
Come, come, leave your fooling I say, I tell you these are they.  Mar. 
If they be, we are much beholding to them sure, to inveigh against the fashion and the mode, and cry out against vanity, whilst theyare a hundred times more vain themselves.  Du Buis. 
Oh now I perceive what they'd be at▪— no, no, far be it from us to prohibit you any thing you have a mind unto, or seek to be your Masters, but follow the mode and fashions, read Romances, do what you will, you shall find us always your servants▪  Mar. 
Nay then to show ourselves right women, now we may, we will not, but thus we throw them all away, which had you sought to have made us do by any other way then gentleness, we would have died e'er ever we would have done.  They throw away their Book and Pot. An. 
Mean time don't think you have deceived us with your fine plot there, for I hope by what we've done, you see we have our plots as well as you, and could too if we list deceive you too.  Du Buis. 
We confess and acknowledge it.  Mar. 
And now we'll be idolatrous of the mode no more, nor think that Lady damned who's out o'th' fashion.  An. 
Nor call a leg without Canons, a leg in Heraldry, or Hat without Feathers, the Quakers block.  Mar. 
Nor read Romances so long till we imagine ourselves, th' Amaranths and Polixens we read of.  Lys. 
And pray leave off your precious Language too, and speak intelligibly, that I may understand you.  Du Buis. 
Enough, enough.  Bonh. 
So, so, I'm glad you are so well agreed;— And now behold this other couple too, who are in Love agreed as well as you.  La Fl. 
Noble Valerio and fair Isabel, we heartily congratulate w'ye.  Val. 
And we with you.   

SCAENA XI.  Enter Ergasto. Valerio. 
COme Ergasto, where are you in all this joy?  Erg. 
Now you have got another Companion, there is no need of me, I may be gone.  Val. 
That's unkindly said, Ergasto, a friend's my better self, and no companion can be more dear to me then such an one, know him and love him my dear as one whom you and I have special obligation to.  Embraces him. Bonh. 
Come, come, 'tis late, and time each loving couple part, to meet again with greater joy to morrow, to night's a fast, and Venus' vigil, to morrow Heymen's feast, to which I invite each one that's here my Guest.  Mar. 
What my Count and Marquis, are you here?  Mas. 
At your service.  Mar. 
No,— we'd rather counsel you to continue Actors still, you did your parts so well.  jod. 
Well then▪  
Gentlemen and Ladies you hear what's said, and we are ready for our parts so you're content, to be Actors still for your divertisement.     

EPILOGUE.  Mascarillio▪ 

ANd now what  
think ye o'th' damoisels a la Mode?  
We hope none grudges money th'ave bestowed  
In seeing them; or if that any here  
Thinks that for seeing them theypaid too dear;  
We wish that for the mode & damoisels too,  
They ne'er may dearer pay than now they do.   
FINIS. Quinti & Ultimi Actus.