Hic et Ubique; OR, THE HUMOURS OF DUBLIN. A COMEDY.  
Acted privately, with general Applause.  
Written by Richard Head, Gent.  
Facilius est Carpere quàm Imitare.  
LONDON, Printed by R. D. for the Author. 1663.   

The Prologue.  Enter Momus. Momus 
HA', ha', we're like to have a goodly Play i'faith when our Author swore just now he knew not whether Pegasus were Horse or Cow, if a be no Poet, I wonder the Devil how he came to be so poor; for I've heard some say, Poverty and Poetry are inseparable companions, but now I think on't, his fancy creeps in prose, and sometimes cuts a caper or two in verse, according as a was inspired by Bacchus— but that he could not purchase always, 
And that's the reason that there's here such lack.  
Of wit, since there was want of sparkling Sack.   
What can you then expect but the dregs of Ale? the best title you can give him is but a red lettuce scribbler, whose rhymes and the spigot keep time together.  Enter Musoph. Musophilus. 
Courteous spectators—  Momus. 
Save yourself the labour, I have spoke the Prologue already.  Musoph. 
Who sent thee?  Momus. 
My friends, Envy and Prejudice.  Musoph. 
Thy commission's false, get hence, thy breath infects the air, and would be contagious here, but that the serenity of each face I view becomes it 's antidote. Avant.  (Exit Mome) 

The Prologue.  
Our Author wrote this Play, but cannot tell  
Whether or no his genius has done well.  
Mark well then what he'll say, and doubtless you  
Will swear though't be not acquaint, yet most is true.  
Here's no Utopian stories, nor such things,  
As some men fain, that fly upon the wings  
Of fancy only, and include the station  
Of their own projects in imagination.  
Experience dictates what we have to say,  
She being guide, I marvel who can stray.  
Hear't out with patience, for we'll all contend  
To please you all, and not a Mome offend.    


dramatis Personae.  
ALderman Thrive-well Vintner in Dublin.  
Colonel Kiltory.  


Quondam Citizens of London.  
Hope-well.  
Bankrupt.  
Contriver.  
Tru●….    
Fantastic.  
Hic-et-nbique.  
Peregrine.  
Scrivener.  
Patrick. Kil-tory's man.  
Recipe.  
Drawer.   

Women.  
Cassandra, Thrivewels daughter.  
Jane her maid.  
Contrivers Wife.  
Hope-wells Wife.  
Sue-Pouch a Land-Lady.   
The Scene Dublin.   



Act 1. Scene 1.  Enter Peregrine, Mr. Hopewell, Contriver, Trust-all, Bankrupt, Fantastic, Hic & ubique. Peregr. 
MAdam, welcome ashore.  Hopewel. 
Thanks, noble Sir.  Peregrine. 
The like to you all, gentlemans. What, melancholy, Mr. Trustall? Come, come, though y'are altogether a stranger in this Country, yet let not your unacquaintance therewith too much discompose your spirits, or disturb your rest: y'are removed but two degrees from your native habitation, and there's but little difference between the Climates. The generality of Dublin's Inhabitants may justly boast of as great a measure of civility as the greatest pretenders thereunto elsewhere; only their losses and crosses has so refined their wits, that they are become the best oeconomick Politicians.  Trust. 
Sir, 'tis not so much the remembrance of my native soil, as the loss of a fair promising fortune; together with the leaving behind me my dear Wife and Children, that thus discompose me, leaving my dissipated thoughts in a continued extafie.  Peregr. 
The consideration hereof would dissuade the most censorious from blaming your dejection. However, be of good comfort, though the world has fallen out with you, I would not have you therefore be revenged on yourself, or take pet, and be miserable in spite.  Trust. 
Sir, I am sensible that I merit blame, but not the least pity; since my sufferings are the sole effect of my overmuch (foolish) credulity, occasioned by my greediness of trade: grasping at every motion of credit, I thought to oblige and engage all.  Peregr. 
Never to come near you after.  Trust. 
Woeful experience informed me so, for now do I find their names in my debt books, merely as so many memorandums of my folly, never to be cancelled.  Hic. 
Hang all sad thoughts, ecstasies, and distracting remembrances (say I) let's drink a glass of Sack and drown 'em all therein. Since we know none that will give us our welcome to Ireland, let's e'en do't ourselves.  Phant. 
Well said, faith Boy, let's away then to the next Tavern. Here's money lads, and bills of Exchange too, which we'll exchange for Sack: We cannot want, for when we have spent all our English moneys, here's Spanish and French, more than these Ram-crested Citizens know what to do withal. It shall go hard but our wits shall put in for a half share among 'em.  Mrs. Hope. 
Now Sir, I have time to thank you, for your civility aboard; truly I knew not what to have done without you; you stood to me in my weakness, we women are troublesome sickly things at Sea. Enter Thrivewel.  Thrive. 
Save you Gentlemen. Came ye out of England?  Phant. 
The Sun has not run six minutes, thirteen seconds since we landed.  Thrive. 
I pray Sir, what Country man are you?  Phant. 
I've been so long a Traveller, I don't justly know.  Thrive. 
And it may be not very well understand what you say.  Phant. 
What d'ye make of me?  Thrive. 
By your language, you seem a rabbinical Christian; by your gesture, an Aegyptian-French Magician.  
But I pray Gentlemen, what news at London?  Phant. 
My gall hath overflown its banks, and so irritated my animosity against your dissimilar abjurgating similitudes, that I am loath to give your plush Jacket any other than brushing satisfaction.  Thrive. 
If you do, pray Sir let it be in English.  Phant. 
Novelties (you would say) according to Courtly expression, or novel as the French has it, but news according to the Vulgar. Some there is though not much, let me see this is Wednesday, or as the great  calls it—  Thrive. 
If this be your way of telling news, I shall sooner hear thereof from my friends at London.  Phant. 
Well, I'll condescend then to the imbecility of your veterane capacity. A Saturday night last, I supped with Dick-Shallow in the Strand, (for he and I are so intimately acquainted, that we are never asunder.) A Monday night I came to Holly-head, where I found these Gent.  Thrive. 
The expedition of your journey seems to me very strange Sir.  Phant. 
You would not think so, had you but seen me fly through the air. I tell you my horse is so extreme swift in his motion, that winged Pegasus is but a dull Ass to him.  Thrive. 
I would I cu'd see this wonderful swift Animal.  
Have you brought him o'er with you Sir?  Phant. 
D'ye think that my brainpan instead of guts, is plenified with obfuscosities? though I venture him at land, I'd not hazard such a treasure at Sea.  Peregr. 
This is a long parenthesis. You were about to tell the Gentleman some news.  Phant. 
'Slife 'tis right; why, then to be short, London's London now.  Peregr. 
That's without doubt; but have you no stranger news to relate?  Phant. 
Have but patience, and I shall gradually inform your curiosity. First then, Houses and Shops are so dear in London, that some Shopkeepers are forced to sell their wares in the Country.  Hic. 
I believe so, and their wearing  too.  Phant. 
The Mercers and Booksellers are deeply in law about the Fee-simple of Ludgate, O 'tis disputable which shall carry it. As for Newgate that's to be let.  Hic. 
And so it may stand, for I know not who would willingly take it, but thy grounds for this conceit?  Phant. 
Why, the doors were fast locked up.  Hic. 
I wonder how thou got'st out then, unless thou hast a body as penetrating as a spirit.  Phant. 
And I saw a bill upon 'em.  Hic. 
That may be, a Doctor's pocky bill, or a pocky Doctor's bill; why, art thou so ignorant, to be guilty of so gross a mistake?  Phant. 
Thou art as blind as a Polebeg Oyster, not to see a well digested conceit of mine therein. But to proceed: younger Brothers never racked their wits and inventions so much as now, to supply their necessary expense. The Ladies are grown so insatiate, as that they are not content without seven or eight bawdy Pensioners, whereby they can hardly purchase provocatives enough to render 'em capable of the office of a Stallion. False Dice won't avail neither, for the Devil has taught even the Fanatic to be a Gamester. The Sea and the Pox has swept away one half of the Cock-neighs, and the other half expect to end their days by hanging like plummets to a line, and are in hopes when wound up, to go to Heaven by Clockwork.  Contr. 
What an ass was I, that I could not think of this; well, since 'tis not my invention, I'll go and acquaint all the Grave-makers in the Town, that there's one has brought in an innovation, which may prove destructive to their profession; for which I hope they'll immediately dig him a grave, shall at least reach to the Anti-podes. (aside.)  Phant. 
Breaking's now a la mode, and that makes this son of a Costermonger in the fashion: (to Contriver) add to him Bankrupt and Trustall, and they'll make a leash of Knights of the burning Pestle, that are come into the Western parts for strange adventures. This here is coutriving to drain St. George's Channel, being so dangerous to seamen in Winter time, and when 'tis done, he is to have a Patent for the sole transportation of Boggs and Laughs of Irish growth into foreign parts.  Thrive. 
But Sir,  lost the main subject of your discourse viz. the famous and now most glorious City, London.  Phant. 
No such matter; there are Cities in Terra incognita that I have seen nay and been drunk in, (there I lie, for now I remember myself, they drink nothing there but Coffee and Chocolate.)  Thrive. 
But what of them?  Phant. 
I say that they for Architecture do as much excel London, as my horse that I told you of, is to be preferred before a gelding of fifty pound price.  Thrive. 
You are a Traveller I perceive then.  Phant. 
I am so, 'tis novelty I solely take delight in, which makes me not where a constant resident.  Bank: 
I believe so, for he will stay in no place longer than he can be trusted.  Phant. 
Speak once more, and down goes thy brazen head. No Sir, my aim therein was to learn diversity of languages, that thereby I might at will picklock the treasury of knowledge therein contained: and out of the manners of each nation, extract somewhat excellent for my peculiar observation and imitation: what progress I have made herein, let my carriage and language express it.  Peregr. 
Travel I confess in joys so many worthy privileges, that the hazard and labour that accompanies it, should not in the least deter us from it: for we are not so to indulge the body, as to starve the understanding. This is the ready was to improve an imature judgement. But instead hereof, some after a vast expense, return at length only metamorphosed from English Asses, to French Apes.  Phant. 
Enough, enough Sir, let's go to the Tavern. The knowledge that this Gentleman has of the City, will inform us where's the best wine. Come old Sir John, you'll favour us with your company.  Thrive. 
What Tavern d'ye pitch on? the London Tavern?  Bank. 
No, no, we have had too much to do with London Taverns already.  Thrive. 
Why then, the Feathers. (Exeunt.)   

Act 1. Scene 2.  Enter Colonel Kiltory and Cassandra. KIlto. 
Once more (my fair Cassandra) the blessed sates have breathed upon my hopes, and blown those sparks into a blazing flame, which lay concealed in the dark embers of your life-extinguishing absence, now I find the sunshine of your presence, thawing the congealed icinesse of my heart, and makes it spread like the Marigold, tending its course to your motion. Fairest (and most worthy of that epithet of all your sex) be not cruel to me, because nature has been kind to you: let not your beautiful prerogative tyraunize, but rather let it's sweet influence be communicative. What say you Lady, can you love?  Cass. 
As yet I know not how to answer you, men are prone to promise that in the height of their amorous sancies, which they ne'er intent to perform: and we poor silly eredulous maidens are too too oft caught with such alluring bats of fair promising pretences, I know not why you should desire me not to be cruel, when 'tis the proper nature of your whole sex to be guilty thereof: otherwise, you would not thus continually beleaguer us, and if you cannot obtain a fair surrender, you'll attempt the storming of our maiden Castles.  Kilto. 
Madam, let me be exempted out of that number, since my only battery shall be loving Artillery, persuasive arguments. There shall be no Soldiers listed under my command, whose strength or policy you may fear in the least, as dissimulation, flattery, equivocation, false oaths, mutual enemies to us both. My desires are honest, my intentions real, and my requests legal, what then should hinder the crowning of our loves?  Cass. 
Soft Sir, let not your confident hopes o'er run your reason and discretion, y'are in my opinion too hot upon the onset, and such commonly come off with the loss of one member or other. Be advised therefore, and let time which tries allthings, try also the reality of your affection, to whose test let me leave you for a while. (Exit.)  Kilto. 
Delays to me are but slat denials: a long grace suits not with a sharp stomach: It's their subtlety thus to hold us in suspense, the more to inflame our desires. Methinks I could now as willingly hate every part of her sex, as formerly I loved she whole for her sake, but that I am partly assured my Mother's a woman.  Patr. 
Moistere, here is one beating de door, would make speak for die shelf.  Kilto. 
Yet I cannot but love her, her sweet Idea is too deeply rooted in my heart, so easily to be pulled out; never did any eyes behold a fairer object, she's now the sole and continual subject of my cogitations.  Patr. 
O yea, between me and God achree, my Moistare will make mad for my shelf. Upjack and supjack; ●hoo fuato de Deole ale thee.  Kilto. 
No I must smother the ripe sallies of my inflamed desires, and study what it is to be mart again, and how much these admired pieces of imperfection fall short of his merit. Whilst I was scouring the Mountains and skipping the Bogs, not sparing the very spawn of rebellion, I had none of these qualms. I cu'd have then driven a score or two of these white cloven Devils, without pity or regard. But since Mrs. Peace came acquainted with us, she has persuaded us to change our Head-piece for a soft Pillow, the ground (covered with the spangled Canopy of Heaven) for a downe-bed, and that's naught too without a wench. Great Mers assist me, and conjure this Devil love out of me.  Patr. 
By my Gossips hand, and my Faders shaddle, Kilphatrick will be much fear by and preshently, to see my Moistare make conjuration. Arra Moistare by St. Sunday, 'tis ill kind for die Faders shield, to be making speech wit die shelf, and no body, Be me fet and be, I do hate de De-vil, as I do oliver's soujer, and if he come presently, my shelf will run away. Arrahall.  Kilto. 
Patrick.  Patr. 
Shakstone, sha', tatuggemi Moistare.  Kilto. 
What's the matter?  Patr. 
Dear is one would fain be speaking for dee. (Exeunt.)   

Act 1. Scene 3.  Enter Thrivewell, Peregrine, Bankrupt, Contriver and Trustall. THrive. 
And is it possible Sir, that you are old Peregrine's son, the East India Merchant? for your Father's sake (whose memory I honour) command me wherein I may be serviceable to you; let me request you to be no stranger to my house.  Peregr. 
Thanks is the least I can render you Sir, for this great favour.  Thrive. 
If my heart speak not in my tongue, let my name be blasted with perpetual ignominy.  Peregr. 
What ever others speak malevolently of fortune, I must proclaim her constant in her propitious smiles on me. Though I have travelled from Pole to Pole, I ever found some civil, even among the barbarous.  Thrive. 
Mr. Bankrupt, sure I should know you Sir, I've been acquainted with the name, and not unlikely yourself.  Bank. 
Sir, my name is so common every where, that 'tis no great wonder if y'are mistaken in the knowledge of me.  Trive. 
But I shall easily convince you that I am not mistaken by particularising where you lived. Were not you a Colour-man in Corn-bill, London?  Trust. 
Heaven grant a does not betray us. (Aside.)  Bank. 
I confess I was ever a man of a good colour, and cu'd colour well what I did. But I know not your meaning Sir. Now had I rather been in St. George's Channel in a great storm, than to have met with this man. (Aside.)  Cont. 
Would I were employed by the King for the finding out Obrazeele to rid me of my present fears. (Aside.)  Thrive. 
Sir fear not that my knowledge of you, shall prove detrimental, but rather tend to your future security.  Trust. 
I'm glad 'tis come to that, I was just at my wit's end. (aside.)  Cont. 
And so was I too, I liked him not at first sight, he was so forward to be acquainted with us. (Aside.)  Bank. 
Being then confident of your fidelity, I shall commit to your charge a secret.  Thrive. 
Which you may be confident I shall keep safe.  Bank. 
Trade failing, and my creditors too hasty to receive, what my debtors were too slow in paying me, I was necessitated to fly from perpetual imprisonment. All that the suddenness of my departure would permit me to take, I've brought hither; upon which slender basis, I intent to raise the structure of a future livelihood, This Gent. Mr. Trustall, is a fellow-sufferer with me in the same condition.  Contr. 
Nay Gentlemen, since ye have made Mr. Thrivewell your Confessor, he shall be mine too; I'll promise you Sir, I stayed in London so long for my own pleasure, that my Creditors had like to have made me stay a little longer for theirs.  Peregr. 
Faith Gentlemen, I suspected no less, though common civility would not permit me to vent my thoughts. I rejoice at your escape, 'tis enough that you have your liberty; for 'tis such an instrument that if you make good use on't, 'twil procure you a being any where; What think you of me? I was never brought up to any Trade, yet live handsomely; I confess I was born to land, and enjoyed it so long, till I was weary on't, and then was never at rest, till out of that dirty lump, I had extracted a pure and portable Elixir. In short, to free myself from that trouble & vexation that are the inseparable companions of Lands and Tenements, I sold 'em. (Caveat Emptor) The moneys I have long since spent, yet want not; the Earth's large, and has enough, (and to spare) to supply the wants of all her industrious children. He that has wit, (I think needs no plough; the apprehension of which persuades me, not to be confined to any place. My great Grandfather Adam, (Emperor of the whole world) left me something every where, and I find it truly paid me where  I come.  Thrive. 
I must needs crave your pardon for my abrupt leaving you, I have business of concernment (which I had almost forgot) that requires me, and I hope we shall henceforth be no strangers to each other, (Exit.)  Contr. 
My Masters, we have trifled away too much time already, 'twere very requisite we redeem what's lost, by making triple use of the present. Preferring employments will neither proffer nor prostitute themselves, unless we court them with labour and expense; as for my part (according to the proverb) omnem lapidem movebo, not leave a stone unturned, till my desires by my endeavours are arrived at the Cape of good hope.  Trust. 
Mr. Contriver, though you are as much a stranger to this Country as we, yet I look upon you to be better skilled in projecting: your advice therefore, what course were we best to take?  Peregr. 
As I'm a Gentleman, if you'll take my opinion with you, I'm clearly for the second course, but believe me 'twere best for you to take some speedy course, lest e'er long, a red Herring make up all the courses in your dinner; if you'll consult where's the best Sack, how too procuve a handsome Girl, and a good noise of Music, (they're best together) I'll be of your counsel, otherwise I shall leave you to your worldly thoughts.  Contr. 
Sir, you may be much deceived in your conceited happiness, though fortune hitherto has looked smilingly upon you, don't therefore vainly imagine, that she dotes on you as her Minion. Woeful experience has forced her chiefest favourites to confess, that she is nunquam stabilis, and by taking no more than she gave, leaves 'em in a condition far more miserable than e'er she found 'em.  Peregr. 
I value neither the strumpet's love nor hatred, I'm proof against the worst she can inflict on me; what e'er it be, equo animo feram. Adversity shall not depress me so low, as to make me forget what I was, nor prosperity exalt me so high, as to slight my friend.  Contr. 
First Sirs, let's provide us convenient lodgings, that done we may talk of our business at leisure.  Trust. 
Let's about it then; but what's become of Fantastic, Hic & ubique, and Mrs. Hopewel? tha've given us the slip.  Bank. 
They desired to be excused, being gone to procure Mrs. Hopewel a lodging.  Contr. 
And I warrant you they intent to take up their quarters with her; 'twas cunningly plotted. (Exeunt.)   

Act 1. Scene 4.  Enter Mrs. Hopewel sola. Mrs. Hope. 
In a strange Country! all strangers too! no acquaintance! no kindred! four hundred miles from home, and a woman too! what condition is more uncomfortable than mine? Alas! me thinks I cu'd take pleasure in my tears, and with sharp blustering sighs, blow sweetness upon my sorrows: But stay, I'll not grow desperate, but recollect my thoughts, and play bad cards at the best advantage; I will implore aid from Heaven, and study how I may become a favourite to each Deity; pluck up my failing spirits, and preserve my disconsolate and despairing self with comfortable hopes and expectations. Nature took pains in forming me beautiful, and age has not so much impaired it, but that there's enough still to attract both love and pity from any breast that is amorous. Why may not I then follow the precedents of thousands of our sex, that in the ebb of their prosperities, have angled with their wits (baited with their beauties) in the swift streams of affection, whence they have drawn up large and rich fishes, without breaking the honourable line of their reputation. That I am a Wife 'tis too certain, but here are none that know it; therefore will I conceal it, and act the part of a Widow, yet never wrong my Husband. Time cannot but furnish me with acquaintance, and when I find myself courted by a person considerable, I'll meet his flames with pretended affections, so far as shall strengthen his perseverance, yet still maintain the principle of my own integrity. Enter Fantastic and Hic & ubique.  Phant. 
What my fellow Traveller? How is it now? what think you of Ireland?  Hope. 
In truth Sir, I know not, but I hope well still.  Hic. 
Gramercy wench, keep in that mind, and the more to encourage thee, thou shalt never want the benefit of man or money, whilst I am furnished with either.  Hopew. 
I thank you, good Sir, I wish I may deserve your kindness.  Phant. 
Want! by this hand she shall not want; Lady, be-believe me here's money enough, and when this is spent, ne'er fear but we'll have more; all which, and myself, are at your service, command either, or both together. I have the spirit of a Gentleman, and I must drink Sack.  Hope. 
By no means Sir, you have been too lavish already, and this Gentleman likewise; I shall beg your pardon, 'tis time to repair to my lodging.  Hic. 
Faith then, Madam, we'll wait upon you thither.  Phant. 
I would not lose that honour, nor become guilty of so grand an absurdity, as to neglect it, for the best Jewel in Queen Dido's Cabinet; no Madam, 'tis early yet, and before we mew up ourselves in our lodgings, we'll take a walk, and recreate ourselves with the various objects of the City; and as you view it, take notice of what you like best; I'll procure it— here's heavy Gold, and a light heart boys— ha'— honest Hic, what sayest thou to't?  Hic. 
I say, spend it all quickly, and then you'll have a light pocket too.  Phant. 
Thou puttest me in the mind of a common saying here, that those that come hither are not in a probability of thriving, till they have spent what English money they brought with them, if this be true, I'll make all the hast I can.  Hic. 
Nay, rather than you should be too much put to't, I'll help you, that you may the sooner sit down in the predicament of bettering your condition.  Hopew. 
You invent this discourse, I conceive, only to make yourselves merry.  Phant. 
Faith we are the sons of mirth and pleasure; delight and handsome Ladies (such as yourself) are the only Lodestones of our desires. We adore no Deities but Bacchus and Venus. Let the Usurer fall down and worship his bags, groaning under the weight of 'em: Let the Soldier fight for honour till his forward limbs be drenched in blood, by the sword of his conquering Enemy; Let the Scholar quarrel in Logical Arguments, picked out of Ramus, till he break Priscian's head. Let us drink Sack, which will make us conceit ourselves to have that which they so strenuously content for; to the obtaining of which let's lose no time. (Exeunt)   

Act 1. Scene 5.  Enter Thrivewell and Bankrupt. THrivew. 
Mr. Bankrupt, you are much mistaken in your opinion of Dublin; by that time you have been here as long as I, you may experimentally know the contrary.  Bank. 
You have good cause to think the best on't, however Sir, as having gotten a good estate in't.  Thrive. 
I may thank a good careful Wife for't; though I say't, she's handsome too, and yet I dare say, honest withal. A merry Grig, to give Guests content. When I came over first, I knew not what to have done without her; for, by waiting a great while for a very beneficial employment, which I was promised by this great man and tother, all my money was gone, then cu'd I not stoop to be a Drawer, that was so lately a Master, at length my wife had taken a house unknown to me, and I know not how it came to pass, got so much credit as to furnish it befitting lodgers. In a short time all our rooms were filled with Gallants; and to accommodate them better, we kept a cup of very good Beer, as also a bottle of Wine. Then cu'd I ride abroad, and stay a month together, yet still the trade went on at home; and such a one it was, that it quickly raised me moneys to purchase this Tavern I now live in, well furnished with wine; but fortune's not alike favourable to all, according to that old saying.  
Non cuivis homini contingit adire corinthum.  Bank. 
Few women make manifest by their lives, the intents of their creation, that is to be an help to man, and that's it makes me the more admire your wise. I've heard of many that have undone their Husbands, but few that prefers the welfare of 'em, before the indulging of their own luxurious (and often lustful) appetites. I cu'd wish my own condition did not prompt me to say what I do.  
I have a Wife ('twere well, if I never had any) who lives, I fear to be a continual thorn in my side. What I gathered she scattered; yet durst not reprehend her for't, till 'twas palpably known, she admitted others to her embraces besides myself. Perceiving and foreseeing my downfall, she hastens it by the taking what cash she cu'd, and left me to be devoured by my merciless creditors; had not sudden flight (as I told you) prevented it.  Thrive. 
I pity your condition, and do wish I knew any way that might now be a support unto you, for I assure you this is a place wherein 'tis no easy matter to borrow money, nay, or be trusted long for meat and drink; Provision indeed is cheap, because money is scarce; yet good liquor is dear, 'cause there are so many that will pawn their cloaks, but they'll have it; and much good may do 'em; for my part I shall ne'er fear a scarecity thereof, since there's almost as many Alehouses, as good fellows; to be short, those that live here, are all old Soldiers, and such you know, fight cunningly. 'Tis a great oversight me thinks in the English Gentry, in sending their Children into foreign parts, to learn wit and manners, whereas it were far more expedient to send 'em hither; for here they may so learn to live, as to live any where: And after seven years' abode in this country, they need never fear being troubled with the failing Sickness.  Bank. 
Sir, I doubt your discourse savours more of wit, than truth. But how would you advise me to secure myself from my debts in London? As for protection, by reason of the many abuses occasioned by 'em, they are called in, I hear.  Thrive. 
However fear not: there's a great Gulf man betwixt you, and your creditors.  Bank. 
I but these letters of Atorney, I fear 'em more, than the lark does the hobby.  Thrive. 
You trouble yourself to no purpose.  Bank. 
But is't not usual for such letters to be sent over, the witnesses being sworn in Chancery.  Thrive. 
Such a thing may be, but then there's a remedy; if e'er it comes to that, repair to me, and I'll show you the hole, that I myself crept through upon the like account.  Bank. 
You have much eased me of my fears. But still I'm in a labrynth of cares, how I shall live, since the currant of my money is but small, and will soon be wasted, without some rivulets of supply. Well, I must pinch this carcase, as much as e'er I pampered it. O London, London! The very naming thee doth disturb me, and the fixing of my thoughts thereon, almost destracts me.  Thrive. 
Indeed Mr. Bankrupt you're too blame to complain, thus in vain; what can't be cured, must be endured. Be of good comfort. Dum spiro spero, you see as old as I am; I have not forgot all my latin.  Bank. 
O Sir, your long absence from that famous City, hath made you forget its stately building, pleasant walks, with a hundred delighting places for pastime; wherein all pleasure is Epitomised and contracted. How oft have I there plunged over head and ears in all sorts of delight, feasting my senses with those things, that are most suitable to each! But I'll ne'er think on those days, since I never expect to enjoy the like.  Thrive. 
Bravely resolved, and to begin, I think you were best to dispose of those fine , that saw some of those fine days, lest they should put you in mind on 'em again; they'll you two or three good Bandle suits, with lasting woollen stockings, which will be much more convenient for this Country weeping weather, you must expect to find here little, other than rany or windy, and the reason is according to some Rabbyes opinions, because the windy God Aeolus, and phlegmatic Luna are in contention, whither the one shall make it his Court, or the other her pisspot. The natives yield submission to the God, for which the goddess punished 'em with an hereditary disease, called the fundamental thorow-goe-nimble. I'm sure I have been troubled with it four or five days— your pardon— your pardon— your pardon Sir (Exit as untrussing)  Bank. 
If his Wife were to look for him now, she might quickly find him out by the scent (Exit)   

Act 1. Scene 6.  Enter Cassandra sola. CAss. 
Whither shall I fly for refuge? what Sanctuary can protect me from this pursuing shadow, which like some ill Genius still follows me, I fear, to the utter ruin of my rest? My antipathy against him is so strong, that rather than admit of his love, I cu'd be content to court some hedge-born slave, whose rags and rudeness render him a fit companion for swine and dunghills. And yet I know not why, love seldom gives a reason for what a does. Methinks his embraces are like the circling of Snakes, his voice like the howling of a Wolf, and his smiles like the grinning of a Monkey. (Enter Kiltory.)  Kilt. 
Well overtaken Lady. (she offers to go) Nay, be not so hard hearted as to leave me thus, who loves you dearly.  Cass. 
Pray forbear Sir, the bias of my thoughts run otherways; therefore give me leave to enjoy the benefit of my freedom, which should I lose (but as yet it lies in my power to preserve) I should account myself most miserable.  Kilt. 
You shall not lose, but enlarge it; for you shall enjoy a man, the bounty of whose affections shall daily multiply your happiness. I'll be your Guardian, and defend you from every storm of approaching injury.  Cass. 
My fears—  Kilt. 
What?  Cass. 
Nothing, if you and love ne'er come near me.  Kilt. 
Would you be so uncharitable as to live in hate?  Cass. 
No, by my Virgin-whiteness, I've charity for all men; but was never yet fond enough to give away myself.  Kilt. 
'Tis common to your sex.  Cass. 
And may be proper for me hereafter, but as yet I could never see that man I cu'd love so well.  Kilt. 
Is there no hopes for me then?  Cass. 
Truly Sir, I think none.  Kiltor. 
Why then did you give me hopes, when you told me you would leave me to the test of time?  Cass. 
That was but to stop your importunity.  Kilt. 
How long will you leave me to that re●…?  Cass. 
For ever.  Kilt. 
Say you so?— This is not the way (aside)— come Lady, I will—  Cass. 
Do what Sir?  Kilt. 
Make you my Bride.  Cass. 
But I say, you shall never.  Kilt. 
And to begin I must—  Cass. 
Mu what?  Kilt. 
Kiss you, Lady.  Cass. 
Pray forbear Sir.  Kilt. 
Intruth I must.  Cass. 
Truly you must not, (kisses her) fie Sir, I was never acquainted with such rudeness and rumbling before— If you'll not be civil, I'll cry out, and make your credit suspected. Pray Sir believe me, I swear I cannot love you.  Kilt. 
I do— and know I am not such a fool, to be passionate in love with a Statue: I value not your disdain; and do not think your immaginary beauty is able to make me pule, whine, and exclaim against Heaven. Alas, you have no Virtue, but what man's fond conceit and feigned praises invests you withal; I confess  all subtlety enough, by which you maintain and keep up your good estimation among men: The height of your wisdom consists in I, and No, and you must be accounted solid and prudent, though you cannot speak three words of sense, provided  obtained the gift of Silence; and you must be continent by all means too, because  the Art of concealing your deeds of darkness; so temperate, as if your bodies required not eating; forbearing in the presence of men, whetting your stomaches upon their appetites, to feed Cormorant-like in private. Wine is inflaming, and flies up into the face; and therefore y'are only for sips, till you come among your Gossip's, and then you can drink pottle after pottle, with a small Caudle or two, that contain gallons a piece; and being elevated, you talk of things that don't concern ye: Having overgorged yourselves, you pretend you are not well, and so go to bed. Lastly, so cleanly, that you would persuade us you evacuate no excrements.  Cass. 
I can endure no longer: farewell Sir, this discourse would have better suited with a Bear-garden, exclaiming against some Applewoman for not selling twelve a penny.  Kilt. 
Oh! have I touched your Copyhold? now am I sufficiently revenged; I must study to forget her: yet notwithstanding I have so much inveighed against her sex, my heart spoke otherwise; questionless Woman is a most divine Creature, and therefore worthily deserves to be beloved: but I'll rest a while,  
Until Experience tells me I have found  
One free to love, and is with beauty crowned.  Enter Patrick crying. Patr. 
Fuillilaloo!  Kiltor. 
How now Sirrah?  Patrick. 
The donny fellow make buse for my Moister.  Kilt. 
What Fellow?  Patrick. 
He was no Sougare nor Musketteer, but a greyshy guddy hang of a Peek-man.  Kilt. 
And what of him?  Patr. 
Fuy by St. Patrick agra, he put the suckation upon my weef. I will tell dee tale if thou wilt Gluntamee. I came in wid my pishfork upon my back, thou knowst, and I see a greyshy guddy hang upon my weef, and I did creep in like a michear, to the wattles upon the loft abow thou knowst, and there I did see putting the great suck upon my weef, as if thy own shelf was there Moister; and because I would make haste, I fell down upon 'em, and leek to have more than half break my neck; then wid my pishfork I clap him upon de Narsum, and I did make sharge for him in the King's name, thou knowst, to stay dear till I fetch the Cunt— stable; but before I came, this chverech craveRauge make run away for himshelf: and looky there Moister.  Kilt. 
Why what wouldst have me do?  Patr. 
Fea●een take my weef to thine own shelf, for Patrick will not lie with his weef Shuane again.  Kilt. 
Why wouldst a have me lie with her?  Patr. 
Yea feat if thou wilt.  Kilt. 
Oh Sir, 'tis so great a favour, I shall never be able to make your brogues a requital. However take this (kicks him) in part of satisfaction; nay, this (kicks him again) too, that I may come out of your debt the sooner.  
Finis Actus Primi.    


Act 2. Scene 1.  Enter Fantastic, High & uhique, and Sue Pouch. S. Pouch. 
REally y'are the pretiiest, sweetest natured Gent. and the merriest Guest, that ever I entertained in my life, and I am sure I have been an housekeeper this seventeen years, come Candlemas.  Phant. 
Faith Landlady, 'tis my custom to be merry where ere I come. I must be like myself, noble and generous. I can as well be hanged as degenerate from a Gentleman.  Hic. 
Hang all base pinching Misers, greedy Earthworms, that place all their delight in melancholy possessing, not merrily spending, and emptying their full crammed bags.  

Let 'em rot with their cares,  
And worldly affairs,  
And worm-eat their souls with their treasures  
Those only live brave,  
That spend what they have,  
And spin out their lives in their pleasures.   

2.  
Therefore we will shape  
Our Designs for the Grape,  
Where Fancy is feathered with freedom;  
Our souls do disdain  
The world with its gain,  
Give Riches to slaves that shall need'em.   Phant. 
Gramercy Hic: the lines are indifferent, and would sound better, were not that throat of thine so much like the base of a Lancashire Hornpipe, whilst thy Treble runs Divisions like a Ram in a halter.  S. Pouch. 
Ha', ha', ha', that was a witty one; y'are an arch Wag, I'll warrant you.  Phant. 
If you mean an arch Wagtail,  hit the nail oth'head.  Hic. 
But Landlady, they say y'are well read.  Phant. 
And so the report goes of thee, but 'tis in two-leaved books.  S. Pouch. 
I know not how well I'm read, but I have read much.  Hic. 
What Authors?  S. Pouch. 
In my youthful days, the most part of the Garland of good will, the Seven wise Masters, etc. and there was not a godly Ballad that scaped my hands.  Hic. 
What since?  S. Pouch. 
That good man Mr. Patience his works, and what else the Brethren published.  Hic. 
The Fathers of your Church you mean.  S. Pouch. 
Well Gent. as simply as look, my first Husband was a Schoolmaster of great learning, and so given to his Scholarship, that a would not ask me for a mess of broth but in Latin, and for modesty sake (when a had a mind too't) would woo me to lie with him in Greek, or Hebrew. So that I was forced to learn my Accidence to understand him.  Hic. 
And did a not teach ye?  S. P. 
Yes, the first thing a told me was, that a Noun Substantive is the name of a thing— that may be seen, felt, and understood—  Phant. 
Admirable!  S. P. 
And that a Noun Adjective could not stand— by itself, but required another thing— to be joined with it. And then a taught me to decline Lypides, and Hic, haec, hoc, Gen. whorum, harum, whorum.  Hic. 
And why not lapis?  S. P. 
Because I will have it to want the singular number. But to proceed, I soon understood Propriae quae maribus. As for Quae Genus, I judged there was but little use to be made thereof.  Hic. 
Why so?  S. P. 
Why what can a woman do with insufficient Heteroclites?  Hic. 
Deficient you mean.  S. P. 
'tis all one, Therefore I skipped over to As in praesenti, which I soon got at my finger's ends.  Phant. 
Did you learn your figures?  S. P. 
Yes, I warrant ye: figures enough to make ye be in my debt as long as ye live.  Phant. 
I mean Syncope, Apocope, etc.  S. P. 
I know not what you mean by stink-a-pisse, or a pocky piece. I mean round O's for shillings, and half O's for testers.  Hic. 
Have you no better Arithmetic?  S. P. 
I have learned Multiplication, and the Rule of Three, I hope that's enough for a Woman. To conclude, my Husband taught me so exactly pricksong, that in a short time I taught a many to play on the Band whore, using (after a compendious manuer) but three Notes, Large, Long, and Quaver.  Phant. 
I cud not have thought you so well qualified. But Landlady, a word in your ear— Can you help us to a pretty Wench. I'm in the bravest humour— O I cud—  S. P. 
What cud you do?  Hic. 
You may know his meaning by his gaping.  S. P. 
What's that?  Phant. 
Why a—  S. P. 
If you talk thus, I'll not venture myself in your company any longer.  Phant. 
Come, what Sinner dost a know from fifteen to forty?  S. P. 
'tis pity such handsome Gent. as you are should long stand in need of that which you complain for the want of. I must confess I should think it a sin to deny either of you, upon that account, (you know my meaning) wert not a sin to do't. As our Teacher Mr. Giggum has often hinted when a has ta'en the pains to hold forth at a private meeting.  Hic. 
How now Landlady, what cantings this? pray let's have no more of hinting, and holding forth; they are not only word obsolete, but they favour likewise too much of rebellion and treachery.  S. P. 
I hope Sir, you are not angry.  Hic. 
No, not I, but gigging (as you say) you may use; it's a good ancient word, and still in fashion.  Phant. 
And holding forth in some sense, is good too.  S. P. 
Well, Gent. what ere you think of me now, I knew the time when brave Sparks would have been glad of my company, and would not have sat down to dinner without me. Who then but Madam Pouch? ruffled every day in my silks, and wore Laces that cost many a fair pound, I'm sure; been Coached to this Tavern and to that, and in a frolick would have drank my Wine freely, God forgive me for't now. All my Neighbours did admire me. There was not any fashion stirring but I would have't, what ere it cost: and truly in every thing I was so neat—  Hic. 
So it seems Landlady by your present dress.  Phant. 
Well, I think 'tis now near the critical hour, when Mortals whet their knives on thresholds. What's for dinner? the edge of my stomach's as sharp as a Turkish-Scymiter.  S. P. 
Truly Sir, I have nothing but a Calfs-head and Bacon and a soused Hogs Countenance; what think you of that Sirs?  Phant. 
Well enough, but that the continual sight thereof nauseates my stomach. Hic with his Calves head is always our first course, and not a dish afterwards brought to the Table, but what is ushered in with a Sow's Phisnomy. Prepare ready what you have, and we'll be with you instantly,  S. P. 
I shall, and though our meat be homely, yet 'tis cleanly; pray don't stay too long. Exit.  Hic. 
Oh! 'tis a pretty beast; the smile she left behind her, with the court ' fie she dropped, has given me my dinner.  Phant. 
How she curveted at every word she spoke!  Hic. 
And her breech kills Musket shot.  Phant. 
Her eyes would inform an ingenuous Artist to proportion the minutes of his Clock; for they are in continual motion, and keep time direct and retrograde.  Hic. 
What a hand she has! the true proportion of a shoulder of Mutton. As for her middle parts, (if they correspond with the rest) I shall look upon that man that dust adventure to lie with her, as desperate as Sir Francis Drake in shooting the Gulf. Let's in to Dinner. (Exeunt.)   

Act 2. Scene 2.  Enter Contriver, solus. Contr. 
DUll Drones— a little pains might drain a bog, methinks— as easily as the Fens, and here's a great many. I'll about it presently, left the amphibius Dutch prevent me. But how shall this be done? Thus— (Enter Fantastic and Hic) the Bogs lie near the Mountains, which will afford me earth enough to dam'em up: but first I'll lay a foundation of hurdles, such as Dublin is built on, to support that Mass of Earth. So it shall be; 'tis as clear as a Mathematical Demonstration. The benefit that will redound hereby, will be triple. First a vast quantity of unprofitable Acres made arable, next a discovery (it may be) of gold and silver Mines, which the barrenness of the Mountains demonstrate: and lastly metamorphosing a mountainous into a Champion Country. Here's the worst on't, I shall lose my name by't. The The King will confer on me little less than the Title of Duke of Mountain, Earl of Monah, or Lord Drein-bog.  Phant. 
Surely Gog Magog ne'er talked thus.  Hic. 
A good reason why, he ne'er had that this fellow has.  Phant. 
What's that prithee?  Hic. 
A Maggot in's head as big as a Congre Eel.  Phant. 
I do not think but a as swallowed Euclids Elements.  Hic. 
How do ye Mr. Contriver? are ye well?  Contr. 
Yes, pray how do you?  Phant. 
Never better; the Duke of Utopia lives not merrier than us; we eat, drink, and sleep, without the least care; for our hearts are so continually oiled by good liquor, that they are antidoted against sorrow.  Contr. 
For how long?  Phant. 
The question's gross, pray let the thought thereof trouble you as little as it does us: We'll ne'er want it while we have any thing, and when we have't not, we'll try our credits and rack 'em.  Contr. 
And that's the way to crack 'em.  Hic. 
Not so, as long as we have bold faces to back 'em.  Contr. 
To rhyme to that, I wish you ne'er may lack 'em.  Phant. 
What, bold faces?  Contr. 
No, I mean your Credits; Fantastic, be ruled by me, and I'll make thee a man.  Phant. 
Why what dost make on me now, an Ass?  Contr. 
No, I'm serious; the foundation of your well-being cannot be laid firm upon such sandy bottoms, as the tenure of your discourse discovers.  Phant. 
You talk like yourself, full of projects, and ne'er a won worth a blue bead: but what wouldst a have me to do?  Contr. 
This very day did I find in an old Map, O Braseel with its height; that there is such a place, is without doubt, and as report goes, very rich, and inhabited by very ignorant people: this I'd have thee do; let me have thy moneys to carry on the design, and ne'er fear, but this working pate will soon make a discovery.  Phant. 
Prithee good Solomon simple set thy heart at rest, I have better things to employ my money about.  Contr. 
Well, think what you please of me, had I but money enough now, I've a hundred projects to increase it by.  Phant. 
What an Ass art thou to trouble that contriving sconce of thine with vain Chimaeras: had I so much money as thou speakest of, I would tell thee how I would dispose of it: first, my house should be built by such rare Architects; every one an Archimedes, (or a Sebastian Shyrley at least), that the sight thereof should strike the spectators into an amazement, or Gorgon like convert 'em into Statues: my Gardens and Walks therein should be composed of nothing but pleasure, in whose shady Meanders Venus should have a thousand Chapels of ease. But chief my Cellars should be througed with all sorts of rich Wine, and should be free for all good fellows. My Larders replenished with Neat's tongues, Westphalia hams, Potargo, Cavere, Olios, and such like; all for to relish our liquor: and then Jesters, Musicians, and exquisite beaucies should be our menial servants.  Hic. 
You would permit me to be your Poet to compose Songs for your Music, and provoke your dulled desires by amorous Sonnets.  Phant. 
Prithee don't interupt me: to be short, whatever nature produces to be extremely delightful, that would I possess myself of, neither would I enjoy this alone excepting my Concubines.  Hic. 
'twas well you made that exception; for that stable that admits of all sorts of horses to litter in, now and then meets with a running Nag.  Contr. 
Pray on Sir, about your Utopia.  Phant. 
I would keep open house for all roaring Blades, and one part of my pastime should be to make 'em drunk: the Gentry should ride home in Coaches, and the servants follow after in wheelbarrows.  Cont. 
Mad, stark mad. When you have obtained your wishes, will you not reserve a place for me?  Phant. 
By all means, why thou shouldst be my contriving Coxcomb, or my Fool, but that I fear thou hast not wit enough.  Cont. 
I am bound to thank you Sir, but this discourse suits not with my business: you may please yourself for a while in your own fond conceits, and soon after see the folly of 'em.  Hic. 
See how the Maggot bites (aside.)  Cont. 
Well, I see our purposes run in two several channels, therefore it will be needless to entertain any further discourse.  Phant. 
Far you well with your plots, let us mind our pleasures. (Exeunt)   

Act 2. Scene 3.  Enter Thrivewel, Bankrupt, Peregrine, Trustall. THrive. 
Gent. to say y'are welcome is no more than the custom of our calling allows every man; yet I'll not compliment, what my house affords, freely call for. First seat yourself, next what wine d'y● drink?  
Boy (within, by and by Sir) enters.  Pereg. 
I think a glass of Canary.  Thrive. 
There's your mistake Sir, you'll find but little of that here, but for Sherry and Malago, London affords no better.  Pereg. 
What you please then.  Thrive. 
Boy, draw a quart of Sack out of the sixteenth Butt in the middle range.  Trust. 
I'm glad to hear you are so well stored.  Thrive. 
And so am I too: since I came to this City I could not command so many full bottles, as now I can Butts.  Trust. 
The case is well altered with you.  Bank. 
Why then should we despair.  Thrive. 
'Tis so, and now I live happy in the enjoyment of my Wife and an only Daughter.  Peregr. 
How old Sir I pray.  Thrive. 
About eighteen, and though I say't, her wit, beauty and breeding contend for pre-eminence: you shall see her. Boy call hither Cassandra. (Enter Cassandra.)  Pereg. 
This is a favour beyond expectation.  Thrive. 
So that's well.  Cass. 
Your pleasure Sir?  Pereg. 
Madam excuse my rudeness. (Salutes her.)  Thrive. 
My pleasure is, that you go to your Mother— and d'ye hear— (whispers, and then goes.)  Pereg. 
Nay Madam, let me present my service to you in a glass of wine, (drinks) I cu'd wish the enjoyment of your company a little while, were the motion approved of by your fair self, I question not your Father's allowance.  Cass. 
Sir your pardon, my Father's commands obliges me otherwise. (Exit.)  Pereg. 
Ald. Thrivewel, I wonder at you.  Thrive. 
Why?  Pereg. 
That you are not infinitely proud.  Thrive. 
For what?  Pereg. 
Being the Father of such an incomparable piece of beauty.  Thrive. 
You flatter me.  Pereg. 
I never was accustomed to't. O Love I never felt thy all-searching power till this minute. (Aside.)  Thrive. 
Come, to all our friends in England. (Drinks)  (Enter Contriver projecting with himself.) 
Whose that? Mr. Contriver, y'are come very opportunely.  Contr. 
So it seems.  Thrive. 
Well, what news abroad?  Contr. 
I know not, but I think e'er long, the Inhabitants of this world, will all turn either fools, knaves, or madmen.  Thrive. 
Why, what's the matter now?  Contr. 
Why, I have been to have a bill accepted, and the man persuades me, I forged it myself; if it be not so, he's a knave to refuse it; if it be so, then was I a very fool to do it so as he should discover it.  Trive. 
Here's the knave, and the fool, or the fool and the knave, but where's the madman?  Contr. 
Fantastic, and Hic & ubique. I came now from dissuading 'em from their destructive courses, yet still they hold, that they were born to no other end, than to enjoy pleasure, & they say there's but one deadly sin, and that's good husbandry; they talk of nothing, but Wine, Wenches, and Music, how to make men drunk, and to send 'em home in wheelbarrows, and such like trumpery. And so I left 'em to come and speak with you about some business.  Pereg. 
Alderman, for this courtesy I shall be better acquainted with your house.  Bank. 
And remain we your debtors. (Exeunt.)  Contr. 
'Tis thus, I understand that there's just now arrived two Ships laden with french wine; if you make hast you may have the first sight of 'em.  Trive. 
I thank you good Sir, I'll go instantly. (Exit.)  Contr. 
This plot of mine hath taken rarely well; this will occasion his absence for some considerable time, which will give me a fair opportunity to court his Daughter Cassandra. (Exit.)   

Act 2. Scene 4.  Enter Fantastic, Hic & ubique and Mrs. Hopewel. PHant. 
'Slife y'are too coy for a man of my temper, these long graces have too much of a fanatic relish. Come, you may guests at my meaning, few words among friends are best.  Mrs. Hope. 
I hope Sir, you won't ravish me.  Hic. 
By Heaven's Lady, as long as I'm here, he shan't injure you, for I have more than ordinary respects for you.  Phant. 
Who you? why thou pitiful poor inconsiderable thing, made up of the parings of Priscian's nails, mingled with the excrements of Mars; dost thou undertake to be her Champion, and dost not deserve to be her Footboy? I durst swear the very sight of a drawn sword, shall make thee run seven miles, without once looking behind thee.  Hic. 
I regard not thy choleric expressions, but be confident thy over self-conceitedness, (Narcissus like) will hasten thy ruin. In any thing that may be termed good in thee, thy eyes like drunkards see all double, and thy opinionative fancy, like a multiplying glass, makes a molehill seem a mountain: thus admiring thyself, thou vainly dost imagine, that every one that does but look on thee, does the like. Yet know I've as much interest here as thou.  Mrs. Hope. 
Pray Gentlemen let not me be the subject of your quarrel; I equally respect you both, till my judgement shall be balanced by him that loves me most.  Phant. 
Why then she's mine by Priapus— Lady by all—  Hic. 
Who gave you leave to speak first, she freely confesses I have an equal share with you in her affections.  Mrs. Hope. 
One as much as tother, & that's none at all (aside.)  Phant. 
But Sir, as I'm your superior many degrees, desist from interrupting me, or I shall quickly send you to that place where you must be content to wait churlish Charon's leature for your passage.  Mrs. Hope. 
If I can but keep my countenance now I shall have fine sport between 'em. (Aside.)  Phant. 
Madam, I make no question but my services have acquainted you with the height of my love, and therefore what I now can say will be but a tautology. Y'are not ignorant that I am not only a Gentleman, but a Traveller too, and to show you what acquaint observations I have gathered abroad, I'll first represent to your view the common salutations of each Country. Thus the neat French mode, thus the proud and stately Spanish,— (nay hold still) or thus after the devouring Italian manner, I shall omit the slavering Dutch fashion, as too clownish for my imitation.  Mrs. Hope. 
Sir your Prologue's too long.  Hic. 
Would a were come to his Epilogue once. (Aside.)  Phant. 
To please you Madam then I'll be shorter.  Hic. 
That's not the way to please her. (Aside.)  Phant. 
Can you love?  Mrs. Hope. 
As I'm a woman, I've a mixture of all passions in me.  Phant. 
Then consequently that of love, but commonly women's affections are grounded upon self-interest: if they match with those whose estates can't satisfy their ambition, 'tis to be supposed then, that there's something extraordinary, that supplies that defect.  Mrs. Hope. 
You speak mystically, I know not what you mean.  Phant. 
My meaning is not far from you, which time and your permission may make you acquainted withal. Madam, my face is not so contemptible, as tempting, experience confirms my belief. I ne'er yet in all the Countries I came acquainted with, took the pains to court any, all contending who should first prostitute herself to my pleasure. I lived in Utopia three months, where no English man before durst venture; the Duke's only daughter taking notice of my superexcellent qualifications, as likewise the exact simetrical proportion of my body, fell so deeply in love with me, that I was necessitated to satisfy her desires, to save her life. And to save mine (the Duke being informed of what was done) there being no shipping in the harbour, I was fain to put to sea in a Wash-boal, and the only sail I had, was the fore part of my shirt.  Hic. 
A yard I grant him. But what did a do for want of a mast. (aside)  Phant. 
And by a strange providence I Landed at Gravesend. The Court was suddenly informed of my arrival, and immediately was proffered I know not what a year to keep 'em company only. I knew what they drove at, for they intended to make me the pattern to wear their  by.  Hic. 
But not how to keep 'em. (aside)  Phant. 
I cud have served in stead of a jury of french Tailors, for the inventing of a new fashion, as likewise they knew I cud teach 'em to speak well, and redeem their Tongues from being pensioners to absurd silence.  Mrs. Hope. 
I now plainly see you are a Travels.  Hic. 
How handsomely the gives him the lie; but the fool (I believe) has not so much wit to apprehend it. (aside)  Phant. 
What you express is nothing but truth. Nay more I durst challenge the whole world to parallel my strange observations.  Hic. 
More strange than true: but I'm glad a has travelled so far from his subject. (aside)  Phant. 
I'll tell you one of 'em, I met with a fellow about a league from Parnassus, falling into discourse (for a spoke perfectly the Rabbinical, and I answered him in mank's) we at length concluded to descend the foresaid hill, and drink our morning's draught at Helicon, having carrowsed so long that we began to be mellow, a spoke to me in five several Languages at one instant.  Mrs. Hope. 
I have heard of those that have spoken their words by clusters, but certainly the tother's impossible.  Phant. 
The Method that he observed therein will salve up all contradiction: for with his tongue a would vowel out the lofty Italian, in the mean time the proud Spanish came glittering through the rolling of his sparkling eyes; his cheeks (being swelled with Wind) blew out the blustering Dutch, a snuffled the French through his nose; and the grumbling of his dissatisfied belly (at the same time) spoke articulately the Hungarian. I cud tell you of a thousand more, which are now too tedious to relate, yet hereafter the relation of 'em will serve for pretty divertisements between us by the fire side in a winter night. Therefore to conclude, if my Travel, Wit, Birth, Breeding, and a handsome Personage, will not invite you to embrace my motion, I know not what will: Consider of these things seriously, and I shall ne'er fear that an Hic & Vbique can rob me of your affections.  Mrs. Hope. 
Sir, your discourse has been so prolix, that it will require a very considerable time to find out what you drive at. However, give me leave to hear you both.  Hic. 
That's my Cue— Lady, give me leave to salute you after my fashion.  Mrs. Hope. 
I've been troubled with too many of 'em already. yet for once, how is't?  Hic. 
After the Hic & ubique manner thus— (kisses mouth, eyes, etc.)  Phant. 
But that's not as you said, every where.  Hic. 
I know that, I've done as much as was civil, pray do you the rest.  Mrs. Hope. 
Such scurrilous discourse renders you ridiculous, and reflects likewise upon me.  Hic. 
Madam, I shall then wave such deviations, and render myself in such terms that may be suitable to the greatness of my affections: Prose is too low a style to express myself in, therefore thus: 

Free and unstained with base intent,  
My love to you I tender;  
A heart not glossed with compliment,  
As free I do surrender.  
'tis Love commands, then how can I  
So great a God as this deny?   

Your Beauty, and those better parts,  
your virtues (which surprise.  
Where e'er they shine on mortal hearts)  
Extinguished have mine Eyes.  
And 'tis but just that I should be,  
Led by that power, that blinded me.   

I will not vow, protest, nor swear,  
nor cog, as others do:  
But only say, my fairest dear,  
I live in bliss, by loving you.  
And sooner may the Cyprian Dame,  
Live chaste, than I put out my flame.   

Rivers their courses back shall turn;  
the roveling Orb stand still;  
And sulphurous Aetna cease to burn,  
before I change my will.  
Then give me hope before I faint;  
No Idol e'er had truer Saint.    Mrs. Hope. 
This is something to the purpose, if they be your own.  Hic. 
Madam I'm not plageary, I ne'er yet wanted words to Express my mind, and therefore need not borrow.  Phant. 
But you can steal: how couldst thou have the face to repeat these verses (I being present) thou knowst I told thee, I made 'em five years since, for my first Mistress.  Hic. 
Let not thy Impudent lying provoke me too far.  Phant. 
I ne'er took the lie yet without satisfaction, therefore don't repeat it, lest I make thee a companion for subterian spirits.  Hic. 
Thou hadst best, if thou'st a mind to be hanged.  Phant. 
What for killing an Elf, or an Ass?  Hic. 
No, I mean thou durst as well be hanged, as draw.  Phant. 
I'll try that. (draws)  Hic. 
Nay have at ye then. (draws)  Phant. 
Murder, Murder.  Mrs. Hope, 
Help, Help. (Enter Kiltory and Patrick.)  Kilt. 
What, Draw upon a woman (cowardly villians) (draws) what your intent, tell me quickly, or this all-piercing stell shall set your bloods abroach.  Hic. 
Sir, We came not to injure the Gentlewoman.  Mrs. Hope. 
Sir, They are both my servants, and 'tis Jealousy that occasions 'em to quarrel.  Kilt. 
Madam, I should think such poor spirited fellows deserve not the honour of that title.  Mrs. Hope. 
I thing so too, Sir, I was forced to entertain 'em, because I knew not how to be rid of 'em.  Kilt. 
Madam, I'll quickly do you that courtesy, and by so doing, I may pleasure myself; her beauty hath already captivated me; (aside) villains, Expect not the honour to fall by my hands. Patrick go cut their throats.  Patr. 
For fuat joy, to put the Kill upon my shelf.  Kilt. 
Go sirrah, or I'll cut yours (turns to Mrs. Hopewel)  Patr. 
O yea, for Christis shake, make help for my shelf moister, or else poor Kilpatrick will be made Kil upon.  Kilt. 
To provoke cowards too much, is the way to make 'em desperate. (Beats 'em of) sirrah, did not you tell me you cud fight, upon that account I entertained you.  Patr. 
Yes feat, at cuff, or skean.  Kilt. 
None serves me but those that durst blow in a charged pistol, and value a sword no more than a cudgel.  Patr. 
See for this, by got a chree he would put some lead in my belly but there was no sharge powder upon the pishtol, he did make intention to cut off my head, feat.  Kilt. 
Be gone, I shall talk with you some other time, Madam should I say I love you, from this interview, you would condemn me as rash, but blame me not, if your beauty commands me, to be yours eternally. May I request the great favour as to know your lodging.  Mrs. Hope. 
It deserves not your knowledge: Your pardon Sir. (Exit.)  Kilt. 
Fellow her sirrah, and see where she houses, and bring me word, at the three Tunns.  

If she disdainful proves, then I'll give over;  
'Tis but the second, I will court no more.  
Finis, Actus secundi.     


Act 3. Scene 1.  Enter Contriver and Cassandra. Contr. 
MAdam, I hope the fervency of my love will (in some measure) excuse the boldness of my intrusion; since the time that I first saw you I have been extremely impatient, and the force of my imagination was so strong, as to make me conceit every minute of Delay to be a complete day, till I had found out an opportunity to make you acquainted with the reality of my affections.  Cassand. 
And pray Sir, what do you propose to yourself, now you have found it?  Contr. 
I shall in part ease myself of a great load of love that lies on my heart.  Cassand. 
Pray Sir, if that be all, disburden yourself quickly, charity commands me to give you my attention, if that will do you good.  Contr. 
Very much, if you'll let my penetrating expressions sink into the hollow recesses of your heart.  Cass. 
I can't promise you that; for I know not what you mean, every word you speak to me is an Hieroglyphic, or some foreign language, which will require an Interpreter.  Contr. 
Then Madam I'll be my own, and unriddle that Emblem which seemingly puzzles you so much to understand; I love you, and that in so great a measure, that were the quintessence of all love contracted together, it could not exceed mine.  Cassand. 
I'm sorry that you have shot your Arrows at the wrong mark, your hopes have mistaken their lodging, and you have cast Anchor in a bootless harbour.  Contr. 
Pray don't say so, I have a stronger faith than to be moved with such customary denials, which your politic sex still defends themselves withal, when the forlorn hope of their affection receives its first encounter. Lady, you are flesh & blood, and can't be outlawed from the Court of Love; & though your beauty, birth, and education may advance the verge of your thoughts to a far higher fortune than myself: Yet I question not but the strength & constancy of my Love may balance it.  Cass. 
Sir your eagerness puts me in mind of a common saying that what is violent, is not permanent; every days experience informs us that hot love grows soon cold; yet what I speak is but by hear-say; for as the tenderness of my years may persuade any that I am unacquainted with Love-affairs, the same argument may make you know, that I understand not your amorous discourse.  Cont. 
The many examples of younger matches, are enough to sway down the subtle evasions of your sophistical arguments.  Cass. 
there's no contradicting you, for they say men have the art of persuading women contrary to their own beliefs; though for my own part (I think) I am proof against it, as designing my affections to be guided by my Parents will and pleasure.  Contr. 
Were I but assured of your consent, I am confident of your Father's assent, and then there can be no remora or impediment to our conjunction.  Cass. 
Excuse me Sir, the world is now grown very deceitful, therefore 'tis requisite I advise with myself, consult you as you please with my Father.  Contr. 
The result of which (I hope) will tend to your lasting contentment (exit.)  Cass. 
I never yet cud give a reason for Antipathy; as soon as I saw him, methought of all men living I loved him least. (Enter Jane) How now, what's the matter with you?  Jane. 
The matter Mrs. I believe I have matter enough in my hand for you, O the sweetest Gentleman (I think in my conscience) that ever lay by a woman's side.  Cass. 
What, art mad, Wench?  Jane. 
Yes, and so would you too, had you seen what I did.  Cass. 
What was that?  Jane. 
I tell you the finest Gentleman— I warrant he has—  Cass. 
'Tis no matter what a has, but what of him?  Jane. 
He gave me a Letter, and enjoined me to deliver it to your own hands.  Cass. 
A Letter for mel sure thou'rt mistaken.  Jane. 
Will you believe your own eyes? (delivers it)  Cass. 
These for that matchless piece of beauty, Mrs. Cassandra Thrivewel. 'Tis a fair title, I'll see if the contents correspond. (reads.)  
Madam,  

How well did nature in her plots contrive,  
A way to keep her own prerogative.  
By the sweet Edicts of her subtle Law,  
Pride quakes, and savage creatures stand in awe.  
Them Man commands, and makes their fury fall;  
But Woman (Nature's wonder) conquers all.  
I that have felt the tempers of each Zone,  
And know most climates, better than my own;  
Could never love, till your commanding Eyes  
Shot scorching flames, and did my soul surprise.  
I am your Captive, therefore must my fate,  
Take life, or death, or from your love, or hate.   
Your most affectionate servant PEREGRINE.  Cass. 
Peregrine, who's that?  Jane. 
Don't you remember the Gentleman that you were commending yesterday?  Cass. 
Thou talkest at random.  Jane. 
'Tis the very same.  Cass. 
Why should a love me? and yet why do I ask that question, since I know not well why I love him?  Jane. 
For what else, but for a beautiful face? and let me tell you Mrs. you have one that's tempting enough; for so say most Gentlemen that come to our house; Oh! I have heard 'em wishing— you know what I mean.  Cass. 
You are too bold huzy, pray learn to be silent, and that at least will make you seem wiser.  Jane. 
Indeed Mrs. you would not only seem so, but be really wiser, if you would resolve to make better use of your time: had some as many sweetheart's as you, they'd make more haste to understand, what a pretty pleasant life they (that are married) do enjoy.  Cass. 
Peace, thou talkest idly. I find an alteration in me already; (reads) sure this paper contains magic, otherwise it could not persuade me to love so suddenly: O my freedom I now begin to fear the loss of't.  
But let it go, to him I'll not refrain:  
This single loss returns with double gain.  (Exeunt.)  

Act 3. Scene 2.  Enter Fantastic and Hic & ubique. HIc. 
Were ever men thus baffled? how glad the strumpet was to be rid on's?  Phant. 
Hang her, she's like the rest of her sex, that value men by the quantity of their moneys, and not their worth.  Hic. 
Would I had again what I've spent on her, twud be now very seasonable to supply my empty pockets.  Phant. 
O Sir! are you come to that? ne'er wish for't, if you intent to thrive: don't you remember your old maxim?  Hic. 
Prithee leave off your jeering, and lend me a crown.  Phant. 
Why then your money's all gone it seems.  Hic. 
Yes I may thank you for't.  Phant. 
Near thank me for the matter, but thank yourself; however there's a crown, but make no practice of borrowing of me, this is the last time.  Hic. 
Now ye faith, if thou wilt, we'll go to th' Tavern again, and I'll spend it, I'm half drunk already, and so art thou.  Phant. 
No not I  Hic. 
Then thou'rt mad.  Phant. 
Why?  Hic. 
Thou'dst ne'er have lent me a crown else; I conceit myself now as rich as Croesus. Here boy, fetch me a quart of sack, a short life and a sweet, there's nothing like it.  

A Pox o'those dull men, whose bosoms are filled  
With the doubts of their fortunes, and cares:  
May be starve in a Prison, that feareth to yield  
In seasons of plenty, his belly a share.  
Let 'em still live in scorn,  
With their money and their corn;  
Till the terror of sin makes 'em free,  
They are not companions for thee, nor for me.   (Enter boy with Sack.) 
So well done, fill a brimmer.  

Here's a health to all those that will never be poor,  
That conquer the frowns of their fates with their wine;  
That will quaff, and carouse, and never give o'er,  
Till their faces by drinking like Comets do shine.  
In these we'll delight,  (Enter Pouch.) 
With these we'll unite,  
And our happiness still shall endure,  
As long as our company Sack can procure.   Su. Pouch. 
'Tis very well Gentlemen, that you are so merry, but I'd have you remember, you did not discharge the large reckoning last night. I done't like this shuffling, you can run o'th' score in my house, and find ready money abroad for the Tavern. Gentlemen, I can stay no longer, my Brewer must be paid, and my Baker has been here to day for money.  Phant. 
As for your Brewer he may be an honest fellow; but hang your Baker, I have nothing to do with him: but pray what is it I'm engaged to you?  Su. Pouth. 
Since you paid me last, 'tis just twenty five shillings four pence. 'Twill be long enough before you Mr. Hic, will ask how much you own, and if you did, I think 'tis much at one, for you never intent to pay, as far as I can see. I ne'er saw a penny of your money yet, and that which is worse, I know not when I shall: had I known you'd have roared and ranted so much, you should have sought your lodging some where else. Besides, I doubt you have both been too familiar with my maid Dorothy; I examined her upon her crying out last night, and she confessed that you were both uncivil, and did— I'm ashamed to tell what: would I had been in her place, I de have taught you to have meddled with a woman again after that manner.  Hic. 
And for ever after made us hate the cry of kitchen stuff for thy sake. Prithee good butter-barrel, don't think to melt thyself by our fire: thou Tun of Heydleberg, thy bungholes so big that I am afraid to come near it, lest falling therein, I hazard a drowning. Had Garagantua lived, thou mightst have taught him, without much endangering of him, to have kneaded dough in thy trough.  Phant. 
Can a man have but seen 'em in conjunction, the resemblance had been to nothing more proper than the Ox at St. James' fair, roasted whole with a Pudding in his belly.  Hic. 
Come Landlady I have more charitable thoughts than to think thee a— because thy age wants temptation; But I'm sure not hot inclination; but as for cheating and extortion (too excellent moral virtues) 've qualified thee for a shee-saint of thy profession.  Su. Pouch. 
But that I am patiented, and not given to the language of Billingsgate, I would say, that thou art a son of the Whore of Babylon, to abuse an honest woman of my sort; thou spawn of Iniquity; vile, vain, villainous Rascal: 'Tis no wonder thou shouldst thus scoff at me, thyself being so handsome, come up here, thou maggot faced fellow; thy hose would serve for a handsaw; Get thee a lookinglass, and there thou shalt see the Image of Nabuchadnezzar newly come from grass, away, foh, thou stinkest of superstition, there's something in thy face that bears the resemblance of a profane large wrought Christmas candle.  Hic. 
This won't do, I must cog her into a better humour. (Aside) Honest Landlady, I was but in jest all this while, only to try your temper: to be serious, what you find fault withal, shall speedily be amended, as for what I own you, my bills of exchange, (which I expect by every post) are enough to satisfy you ten times over, and so here's to ye (she Drinks) nay i'faith Drink't off.  Phant. 
Come let's be merry.  Hic. 
Boy call in the music I sent for: my Land-Lady and I must have a Dance.  Su. Pouch. 
I can't Dance, I'm old, but when I was young I could have footed it to the hornpipe, with the best of 'em.  Hic. 
Nay then I durst swear you han't forgot it.  (They Dance.) Phant. 
Well done i'faith,  been a notable lass in your days I warrant you;  Su. Pou. 
I am not so old yet, but that I can have a young man (or two for need) as handsome as either of you, no disparagement.  Hic. 
Certainly he was born blind then.  (Aside.) Su. Pou. 
But 'tis best to keep myself as I am, and then I need not be in continual jealousy of my maids, nor stay so long for my husbands coming home from the Tavern, that my meat is either rotten roasted, or cold; sit up till twelve a clock at night; If he comes home, then to be sure he's drunk, and falls a railing at me: if not, ten to one he has taken up his quarters with one wench or other. No, no, there's ne'er a young man of 'em all shall so delude me.  Hic. 
I wonder who would, unless it be one that is troubled with a continual foul stomach, and so to save charges would make use of her face to give him a vomit.  Su. Pou. 
Well Gentlemen, my business calls me away, pray don't force me to rise in my smock age'n, to let you in, when you are out late. (Exit.)  Phant, Hic, 
Your Landlady won't always thus be put off with fine words.  Hic. 
I know that, I see there's but one way; my cloaks must lie by't I faith: and now I think on't, Alderman Thrivewel is a fit person for my purpose. 'Twere better they were Imprisoned than I  Phant. 
It's true, i'faith.  Hic. 
Well, when all is gone I'll not despair; for 'tis an article of my faith, I shall ne'er want; how e'er 'tis with you now, I believe I shall see you in the same condition  it be long.  Phant. 
If thou shouldst see me as poor as thyself, yet there willbe a great deal of difference between thee and me.  Hic. 
Prithee why?  Phant. 
Because I have more wit and a better carriage than thou hast to carry it off.  Hic. 
O The impudence of folly! those commonly which conceit themselves the wisest, are oft found the veriest fools. Dost thou talk of wit, when thy ignorance has no similitude, and thy carriage no comparison. Thy fine  like a cork boys thee above water, and thy small remaining stock of money, like ballast, keeps steady the giddly vessel of thy brain, which otherwise would with every blast of misfortunes, be quite turned topsey turvey; neither haste thou scholarship to solace thee in thy adversity.  Phant. 
And what does thy learning avail thee, when thy Landlady calls for money? see than whether you can persuade the sergeant, with your hard words, to let you go; I durst say your acquaint fancies will hardly bail you out of prison; neither will your learned Poems pay your fees. Hic, I'll give you good advice; never pawn your cloaks, as you intent, till you have tried what you can take up upon your scholarship; thy cloak will serve to keep thee warm, and feed thee too for a while, when all the profound Authors thou hast read, can't advise thee how to procure one meals meat; he that has money, commands every thing, with which I can obtain the opinion of being a wit too. Han't I known a rich young heir, been cried up for a witty person, when the Iliads of his discourse, would not afford a nutshell of sense?  Hic. 
Content yourself with your money, whilst you have it, in the mean time I shall learn to understand, that there is something that satisfies without it.  (Exeunt.)  

Act 3. Scene 3.  Enter Bankrupt and Trustal. Trustal. 
PRithee, hast a ere a perpetual Almanac?  Bank. 
What to do?  Trust. 
I would be placed there, instead of a saint, an everlasting fool.  Bank. 
Wherefore?  Trust. 
Why that Vbiquitarian, and his antic comrade Fantastic, have lately borrowed moneys of me: the one shun's me, as the Hare does the Gray-bound; the t'other flatly denies a ever received a penny of me, and because he received it in private he bids me produce my witnesses; and a third, when I asked him civility for my moneys, he very uncivilly threatened to bang me.  Bankrupt. 
His bastinadoes would have proved beneficial, had they broken the bones of too much trusting, and so well reduoed again by a Jewish incredulous bonesetter.  Trust. 
Now I see second thoughts are best, by which I Judge thee one of Solomon's fools too, for hadst thou been wise, thou wouldst have purchased thy name for breaking, for some vast sum, and than 'twere no matter if the fee-simple of a statute of Bankrupt were entailed upon thee and thine heirs for ever.  Bank. 
But what way d'ye resolve on for a lively hood?  Trust. 
I know not, employments being so difficult in their obtaining.  Bank. 
'Tis true, though whole ships of fools daily arriving vainly Imagine the contrary.  Trust. 
Had I known so much before, the Indies should sooner have been my refuge.  Bank. 
What thinkest thou of being a Rat-catcher?  Trust. 
Prithee why?  Bank. 
Why, thy face does look like a Weasel, which you know is a great enemy to that sorrow of Vermin; so that thy appearance in a House, haunted by 'em, will so terrify 'em, that thou mayest save the charge ol Compositions for their destruction.  Trust. 
No, 'twere better to turn Merchant.  Bank. 
But that will require a considerable sum.  Trust. 
There's your mistake, for a box of sneezing, a decayed Tobacco-role, a dozen of clean Pipes, and a bottle of Strong-water, will make me one of indifferent good reputation.  Bank. 
O Excellent! Well, I'll be for the study of Physic: My Father being an Apothecary, 'twill facilitate my knowledge of Simples, and their Compositions. I shall want little but terms of Art, to puzzle the Ignorant.  Trust. 
Get acquainted with Barber-Surgeons then, and Apothecaries, they help you to enough of such Empty shells, that contain nothing: And be sure let the excellency of your skill, chief consist in the cure of the French Disease; I'll warrant you Patients enough.  Bank. 
How so?  Trust. 
Don't you hear of the Armad● of Fireships abroad?  Bank. 
No.  Trust. 
That's strange, there's not a Frigate hardly, that either lies moored up at Lazy-hill, Kilmainam, or ●he rest of the Docks that properly belong to that Fleet, but they're all soul in the Gun-room: There's not one that sails from London, (let her be ever so well Rigged) but her Pump is choked up, and she opens in the Keel.  Bank. 
I've heard indeed; that your overworn decayed, and unwholesome London Doxies, having no longer ●…, nor credit there, repair hither, making it their 〈…〉 ris, and passing for young fresh sinners, are soon bought up as sauce for Wood, cocks.  Trust. 
Which your French Cooks done't always compose of the wholsomest Materials: But 'tis no matter, if you may live reasonably well, upon the unreasonable, and all living of others.  Bank. 
Then I am resolved upon't. Now must I put on a grave. Countenance, with a Habit suitable; Ransack all Dictionaries for hard words, 'Tis no matter how little Intelligible, if amazing: Get some empty Glasses and Galley-pots, with Inscriptions on 'em; And a Catalogue of Diseases, fairly printed, all which at lest I'll pretend to cure; which done, I'll cause my Bills of an outlandish new come learned Doctor to be affixed to all corners of Streets, and not a pissing place shall escape 'em.  
Thus by this Plot, I'll change my low condition: A broken Tradesman, makes a sound Physician.  Finis Actus Tertii.   


ACT. IU. SCEN. 1.  Enter Thrivewell and Contriver. Thrive. 
I thank you for your timely advertisement; I hope the bargain will not prove improfitable.  Cont. 
May all than you take in hand prosper; but Sir, I have another business to acquaint you withal.  Thrive. 
What's that Sir?  Cont. 
The love I bear your Daughter, makes me humbly beseech you to accept me for a Son.  Thrive. 
'Tis ●…er of weight, and will require much serious consideration. Have you made her acquainted with your affections?  Cont. 
With your pardon Sir, I shall confess I discovered my never-dying love to her, but her answer thereto she referred to your Disposal. Neither is it my desire to captivate any Maiden's heart, till I am authorized by her Parents.  Thrive. 
You speak prudently. And truly Mr. Contriver, let me tell you, I ever had a good conceit of you, and 'tis my opinion that you will thrive. The consideration of which persuades me to give you my consent, and you shall have my authority to command her. Boy— call it Cassandra.  Enter Cassandra. 
Girl what thinkest of a blusband?  Cassand. 
Sir If I may freely deliver my opinion, not as others do.  Thrive. 
How's that?  Cassand. 
They may fancy to themselves pleasure in the enjoyment of that, the very thought of which is troublesome to me.  Thrive. 
Come, come, you know not what a Husband is, till you have tried.  Cassand. 
I wish I never may.  Thrive. 
Away with this dissimulation: Your Mother told me as much, when I wooed her first, and yet, was never at rest, till I was assured to her. Here's a Gentleman I respect, in whose affections (if you'll be obedient) I intent to make you happy.  Cassand. 
The state I now enjoy (provided it suited with your will) is already more happy than alteration can make it. Good, Father pardon me. And Sir, for your affections, I thank you, yet deserye 'em not in the least; but I must beg your excuse too, since in me I find no appetite to relish love.  Cont. 
It's a seeming piece of Injustice, not to retalliate love, for love, Madam.  Thrive. 
You are a foolish Girl, and know not what's good. Into what inconveniencies would you run yourselves, were ye your own Carvers: 'Tis well therefore that you have careful Parents to provide what's best for you; I wonder what recompense can you make us for all our care, but by being dutiful and obedient; the neglect whereof renders you notoriously guilty.  Cassan. 
Sir, Let me be disowned for your Daughter, rather than be branded with that superlative crime of Disobedience.  Thrive. 
Why, well said, now you say something, Mr. Contriver, let not any thing disincourage you, for, her denial only proceeded from her modesty: Let us leave her therefore to consider on your Proposals, and my Resolutions: They can't but take deeply with her: But I must talk with you in private, about some thing that must be done before the Nuptials are celebrated.  Exit Thrivewell. Cont. 
I'll follow you instantly. Madam, the utmost that I now can say, is but the same in effect of what I told you heretofore. In your presence I can speak in no other Dialect but that of love. I had just now come into my head— I must think on't another time— I hope your Father's good council, with the consideration of my tender affections, will (in a little time) work such effects, that may satisfy the eagerness of my desires, the full content of yourself, to the complete satisfaction of your Parents.  Exit Contriver. Cassand. 
Unhappy I that am thus in the very spring of my love, thwarted by unwelcome contradictions. I stand betwixt two extremes, the Duty I own my Father on the one side, commanding me to love one, whom in all the World I love least; On the other side, my own inclinations forces me to affect him, whose love I prefer before my own welfare! What shall I do? methinks Age should consider of others that are youthful, by themselves that were so? 〈◊〉 in the same condition. They had a time to love, and would have thought it hard measure, should the freedom of their funcies have been contradicted. I know not what to think of old Folks experience, which they continually inculcate into our memories, to perswadeous not to love, without some palpable Advantage: ● unto me are but dead precepts—  Enter Peregrine. Peregrine. 
'Tis she: Be resolute and be happy. Madam, my Messenger of love I question not, but you have received, and should infinitely rejoice to hear you have made him welcome. The impalsive springs of my affections brought me hither, to second and confirm the contents of what I have writ. If I have offended, I desire to be tried by no other Jury then that of your charitable thoughts, and being Assaigned at Love's Bar, I now expect from your Tongue, (the Foreman) the verdict either of life, or death.  Cassand. 
Sir, the evidence as yet has not found the Indictment, therefore I might suspend my Judgement in pronouncing you Guiltless, but that I cannot but freely acquit you.  Peregr. 
Then Lady, to your Ladyships will I pay my fees, (kisses) assure your cell, I've will't nothing, neither will I speak anything, but what I am ready to seal with the purest of my blood. O that my thoughts were visible. My heart's too little to contain the greatness of my affections.  Cassand. 
I doubt your Words and Lines are all but trials of a Maiden's weakness. Where are too too many of your Sex, that are too too prone to glory in their erecting Frophies over our too too much credulity. We Maids have tender hearts, and are apt to take notice of worth, especially when we find it in conjunction with constancy.  Pereg. 
Could you love that man hearty then, that would love you constantly.  Cassand. 
I think I cu'd, provided he were well stocked with virtue.  Pereg. 
That's not positive.  Cassand. 
I both can and will then.  Pereg. 
Why then, By all the Powers above I am he.  Cassand. 
Have you caught me thus? but 'tis no matter, since I cu'd no longer hold: Then by all the Powers above and below, I am yours. But Sir, my Father has commanded me to love one Contriver, but assure yourself, he shall never injure your interest in me, 'tis possible he may hinder it a while.  Pereg. 
He to our constant loves shall add no doubt;  
His own unworthiness will work him out. Exeunt.   

Act. 4. Scen. 2.  Enter Thrivewell and Contriver. Thrive. 
HEnceforth I shall bestow on you the title of my Son.  Cont. 
And from this moment I shall esteem myself most happy by being so in all dutiful respect. Exit Thrivewell. Umh— how happy are all my projects, gramercy good brains. I am now clearly of the belief, my Mother's imagination was strongly fixed on Oliver or Mazerin, when she conceived me, or that she longed to eat five or six leaves of Machiavel's politic Discourses. When I was but a Boy I could have cheated all the Boys in a whole School of their bread and butter, and have eaten it all afterwards: As for Calves and such like humane Creatures, them I cozened at my pleasure, by sucking their Dams. Now since I writ myself Man, go thy way, when e'er thou diest, there's none will survive to bring thy ingenious plots to perfection. Exit.  Enter Hic & Vbique with three Cloaks on his back, and Alderman Thrivewell. Hic. 
Mr. Alderman, you're the man I looked for.  Thrive. 
What's your business, Mr. Hic & Vbique.  Hic. 
In troth my business now is not so much Vbique, as for the present Hic, and that is to borrow a little money of you.  Thrive. 
Indeed you must excuse me.  Hic. 
I mean upon a Pawn.  Thrive. 
A Pawn, now you say something, and what is't?  Hic. 
My Cloaks?  Thrive. 
Did not I always persuade you against your extravagant courses, and now you see what they have brought you to.  Hic. 
I pray Sir do me that courtesy, it is to stop my Landlady's mouth, who daily threatens me with imprisonment, and I know not how to avoid it, but by your lending me so much money.  Thrive. 
I should think Sir that you are able to stop your Landladyes mouth without money; However follow me, and I'll satisfy your Request.  Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scen. 3.  Enter Kiltory, Mrs. Hopewell and Pathrick. Kilt. 
MAdam, you are so incredulous of the reality of my affections, that I know not which way to persuade you, that I love, if the free surrender of my Estate will do it, it shall be done without any reservation, that thereby you may know that I value not myself or what I have proportionably to the enjoyment of your Dearest self.  Mrs. Hope. 
The freeness of your Proffer, makes me really believe, that your love is incapable of Admitting the least Equivocation. However I shall not give myself up solely to your embraces, till by the conveyance of your Land over to me, I shall be more fully assured, that you love me not for what I have, but for what I am. I propound not this to cheat you, but that as it may be the touchstone of your Love.  Kilt. 
If that be all, were the whole Universe at my command, I'd freely tender it to you to be disposed by your Will; and what Loss would it be to part with the world to one, in whom ten worlds of Excellencies and pleasures are contained: the possession of you (me thinks) is enough to recompense the loss of All, that the greatest Potentates do Enjoy. Every minute of Delay seems to me an Age till I have fulfilled your request. Pathrick fetch me a Scrivener presently.  Path. 
Scriboner, arra fuat de Devel; Scribner— my shelf make no meyning for Dat at all.  Kilt. 
A Fellow that writes Bills and Bonds.  Path. 
Bills and Ponds! feir De vaiter is.  Kilt. 
Why a Clerk then, thou Blockhead.  Path. 
Arra fuat de Devil wilt dou do vid de Clerk?  Kilt. 
That, Goodman Rascal. Kicks him.  Path. 
If I make tell so for him before, he will not come for me afterward.  Kilt. 
Why thou Bog-trotting, Beetle-head, tell him, I have business for him then.  Path. 
Arrah fuat de Devil must my shelf go make fetch for the Clerk, to put sheet upon my moister, and Pathrick himself.  Exit. Pathrick. Mrs. Hope. 
Now Sir I see you love me, and I shall ever endeavour that my Affections run parallel with yours.  Enter Pathrick and Scrivener. Kilt. 
So, are you come, a word with you Sir, here's a Copy of my Estate presently draw a conveyance to Mrs. Anne Hopewell and her Heirs.  Mrs. Hope. 
Pray Sir see that there be no fraud nor fallacy in it.  Kilt. 
Now I hope you are mine.  Mrs. Hope. 
Stay Sir, you're too hasty, have Patience till the Scrivener has engrossed your Dictates.  Kilt. 
Then you'll be mine.  Mrs. Hope. 
As freely as I can dispose of myself.  Kilt. 
In the mean time let's take the Air, this place is too little to contain the greatness of my Joy.  Exeunt. Enter Hic & Vbique without a Cloak. Hic. 
Why should I now cry out against the iniquity of the Gods, that they should thus leave the disposal of human affairs to the Guidance of partial Fortune, I cu●d weep (but that 'twould render me effeminate) when I think that I am wholly extracted, and that by the Chemistry of my Folly, brought to the very Mercury.  

Three Cloaks and all engaged, O cruel Fate  
That would not leave me one, to Palliate  
My weatherbeaten Body, and enclose  
My naked sides from my deriding Foes.  
My Angry Hostess, (heedless of the weather,  
Grown far with foggy Ale, and bound together  
With the warm thongs of Fortune) has forgot  
What cold and hunger is, and she will not  
Shake hands with Pity, holds it is injust  
To listen to the Arguments of Trust:  
Pay and you're welcome, when you have spent all,  
Farewell good Fellowship, Comfort's but small.   
Well, what's now to be done, I must consider, whether Hanging or Drowning be best, or what Death with the greatest ease, and quickest Expedition, will convey me safe to Charon's Ferry-boat: in the mean time, as for the thinness of my habit, that must be excused with the heat of my Constitution; as for Eating 'twill render the Body too corpulent, therefore Fasting will be requisite: as for Drinking, Nature has provided enough every where of that, which will prevent hot Distempers; and for Sleeping I question not but I shall have time enough for that.  Enter Fantastic. Phant. 
What ha' we got here? The emblem of Poverty, this is it to be a Poet; surely he's ill-beloved of the Muses, that none of the Nine would give him a Petticoat to make him a Cloak of, now is the time for me to make sport with him; who do you belong to, Prince Prigg? han't you no part i'th' Beggar's Bush to act? you you look as if you were cunning something of that Nature.  Hic. 
Truly Sir, I was studying the Art of Begging, because some say 'tis very beneficial to them that can manage it aright.  Phan. 
But thou want'st thy implements, as a Wooden Legg, False Belly, a Forced Eye, with the Art of making Old Sores, and such like undiscernible Cheats, that may procure Pity: as for thy  they will serve indifferently, a Month or two will reduce them into the Tatterdemalion fashion.  Hic. 
To which add four more to make up a half year, and his may be in the same Condition (Aside.)  Phan. 
What Countryman art?  Hic. 
Sir, my Country is Hic & Vbique.  Phant. 
Let me see— where does that Country lie? now I know; Just three Degrees, five minutes from the Equinoctial. And what's thy Name?  Hic. 
Hic & Vbique.  Phan. 
Is that thy Christen-name?  Hic. 
I know not whether I was ever christened, if I was not, I had much wrong done me by the Parish, for I am told, my Mother left me in a Church Porch for that purpose.  Phant. 
where dost lie?  Hic. 
Hic & Vbique— Pauper ubique jacet.  Phant. 
Then you are no constant Lodger?  Hic. 
No, not I  Phant. 
So I thought, thou look'st as if thou hast not came a nap since thy creation. And where dost dine to day.  Hic. 
Non hic, sed ubique.  Phant. 
That's no no where, and that's it makes thee look so like one of Pharaoh's lean kine, I can hear hither thy belly grumbling out complaints against thy mouth. How dost intent to live?  Hic. 
I know not how Hic, I think I should do better alibi, the neighbouring Country to ubique.  Phant. 
Well Sir, I knew you all this while, and do pity your miserable condition. I see thou hast no luck at contriving thriving Maxims.  Hic. 
However, I'll not despair, when Fortune's at the lowest ebb, 'twill flow again; my English money being now spent, I hope the worst is past.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Phan. 
Prithee what's the meaning of that thundering conjuring Sentence?  Hic. 
In English 'tis thus: 
He is no Soldier died in grain,  
That can't endure a shower of rain.   Phant. 
But what makest of here without a Cloak?  Hic. 
A good reason why, they're all at pawn.  Phant. 
And what's become of the money?  Hic. 
One half I spent, and another's I gave my Landlady; and yet she's unsatisfied.  Phant. 
For old acquaintance I'll lend thee a Cloak, but no money, for to tell thee the truth, mine's all gone too, though I set a good face on't; My Landlady, no longer ago then this morning, fired a whole broad side at me; for my part, what to do, I know not, unless Wit without Money can assist me.  Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scen. 4.  Enter So Pouch, (Sola.) So Pouch. 
LOdgers, quoth he, with a Pox, hang all such poor Scabs, my sheet's shall ne'er entertain again such Vermin: But that which vexes me most of all, they bring in their Wenches under the borrowed names of Sister, and Cousin, dancing all night like Faries, their night-rounds, and imitating the Nightingale, singing with a prick at their breast; and they so slobber them, nay before my own face— I know not what they have; I'm sure I have been purposely familiar enough with 'em, (had they but eyes to see't) and have given 'em opportunities— that any man that had guts in his brains, would have laid hold on. A couple of Ninyhammers, that might have had my heart out of my belly (as one may say) had they but done— but what was reasonable, I mean; but they have taken the wrong Sow by the ear— Here comes one of them; Enter Hic. Now will I try how this Fellow's necessity will work upon him.  Hic. 
My sweet loving Landlady, how is't?  S. Pouch. 
Never the better for you.  Hic. 
I hope you shall not be the worse.  S. Pouch. 
Yes, I shall, if I stay till your Bills of Exchange come over, that you so much talk of; can you pay me the residue of my money?  Hic. 
Not at present.  S. Pouch. 
Then will I deal with you no longer, since I find your come in but short. As I am an honest Woman I can't be so satisfied.  Hic. 
What would you have me do?  S. Pouch. 
Since you cannot pay me, give me good security.  Hic. 
I am unacquainted here, and I have but one thing left me estimable, which I value so much, that I'm very loath to engage it, unless great necessity force me to'r.  S. Pouch. 
And what's this fine thing I marvel, that you are so loath to pawn, some counterfeit Jewel, pretended to be given by some fond Gentlewoman or other.  Hic. 
No I assure you, this is no counterfeit: but haphazard, will you venture to accept of it in lieu of that small Debt I own?  S. Pouch. 
What is't? I'll not buy a Pig in a Poak.  Hic. 
'Tis myself.  S. Pouch. 
Ha', ha', ha', I guest so much all this while; Is't not enough that thou hast had my Meat, Drink, and Lodging for nothing, but thou'dst have me too? No Mr. Hic, I'm meat for your betters.  Hic. 
Landlady, I'm not in jest; if you will, so? if not, so? you may say hereafter that you had an opportunity which can never be recalled.  S. Pouch. 
Art in earnest then?  Hic. 
Yes by my faith am I  S. Pouch. 
Why this is it I aimed at: Youth joined with Age is like a Warming-pan to a bed in Winter. aside. But speak seriously though, do you love me?  Hic. 
I hearty.  S. Pouch. 
And will you be constant?  Hic. 
While life endures.  S. Pouch. 
And when you are married, will you ne'er Wench more, lie abroad at nights, come home drunk, and then throw the stools about, call me old Jade, and cry who the Devil brought us together, and it may be, beat me too?  Hic. 
Don't entertain such hard thoughts of me.  S. Pouch. 
Won't you upon every slight occasion forsake my bed, and then you must be bribed before you'll lie in't again.  Hic. 
I shall not.  S. Pouch. 
Thou'st half persuaded me then. And will you keep me company at home, and be a good Husband?  Hic. 
I shall.  S. Pouch. 
Why then in the first place I forgive thee what thou owest me.  Hic. 
And in the next place lets seal the bargain. Kisses her.  S. Pouch. 
Here's money, go, and redeem what you have at pawn. She offers to go. And d'ye hear, pray remember you have sealed the bargain; don't you go now and spend the money. What a fine thing 'tis to have money, I might have slaid long enough for a Husband, but for that. (aside.) (Enter Fantastic.) [Exit Hic. Your too late friend, your Cake's dough ye faith.  Phant. 
What d'ye mean?  S. Pouch. 
I mean to be married.  Phant. 
Married, ha', ha', ha', to whom?  S. Pouch. 
Why to your Comrade: You might have been the man, had you not been an Ass.  Phant. 
Me! I scorn thee.  S. Pouch. 
Scorn me, scorn to be in my debt: Now will I stay no longer; I'll have my money.  Phant. 
Indeed you must stay till I have it.  S. Pouch. 
Stay me no stayings, I must and will have it: And so farewell. Exit.  Phant. 
Base worthless man, whose fettered heart can cling, Only for wealth, unto so foul a thing. Exit.  
Finis Actus Quarti.    


ACT. 5. SCEN. I.  Enter Bankrupt like a Doctor, and Recipe his man. Bank. 
HAs no body yet inquired for the Physician to day?  Recipe. 
Yes, one that looked a squint, that came to have his eyes set right: And an old Woman troubled with the Palsy; but they had neither A farthing of money, and so I sent 'em away, 'tis ominous to trust handsel.  Bank. 
It's strange no body else comes; were you careful in putting up the Bills?  Recipe. 
There's ne'er an Inne-door, nor Pissing-place, but is chequered with 'em.  His Banner. 
There is lately come to Town an Italian Doctor, who (besides his exquisite knowledge in the occult Art of Physiognomy and Chyromancy) perfectly understands the Divine mysteries of Astrology; and thereupon can give judgement according to the good, or evil aspects of the Planets: As for Example, Whether a Maid shall marry her intended Sweetheart, and can discover who are Maids and who are not, etc. and who can calculate Nativities so truly, that he will tell the most remarkable passages of any one's life, either past, present, or to come; he likewise cures these diseases under written,  

The Sciatica Vande poca.  
palsy.  
Impotency in Men and Women.  
The restoration of lost Beauty in a Lady's complexion.  
Draw Teeth; and take out Corns by the root, and yet put the Patient to no pain.  
— Cum mille Aliis.  
But most especially that almost (here) Epidemical disease, the Ghonoraea, or Morbus Gallicus.   
To be spoken with at the hours of Nine and Three.  Enter Fantastic and reads the Banner. Phant. 
As I take it, you are the Doctor that cures these Diseases.  Bank 
I am Sir.  Phant. 
First then, I shall request your Secrecy.  Bank. 
It belongs to our Profession. But what's your Distemper?  Phant. 
I've got a Clapp.  Bank. 
Of what continuance is it?  Phant. 
'Tis eight days since I first discerned the Pain.  Bank. 
Then in eight days more you'll discern the Cure? Recipe, bring me hither two Papers, the one marked with P. the other with C. (He brings it.) Sir, take of each of these as much as will lie on a Groat, in half a Pint of the decoction Guajacum, and Sassaphras, for three mornings together, and 'twill divert the vehement pain in the Scrotum; that done, take of these restringent Pills, three or four, Morning and Evening.  Phant. 
I thank you Sir, What will content you?  Bank. 
I shall leave it to you Sir.  Phant. 
Then know, I purchased my Disease at so dear a rate, that I have scarce money enough left to pay for the Cure. However there's something as Earnest. Exit.  Bank. 
I knew him in another Condition; but commonly the Effects of Prodigality concludes in misery: those that sail in Ships of Pleasure, near minding the Sea-marks of Discretion, are oft sucked in, and swallowed up by the Quicksands of Delight, or are violently dashed against the Rocks of Luxury. See who's that Knocks at th' door. (Knocks within.)  Recip. 
'Tis a Maid that would speak with you Sir.  Bank. 
Let her in. (Enter Jane.)  Jane. 
Forsooth, Are you the Outlandish Doctor pray forsooth?  Bank. 
Yes forsooth.  Jane. 
Then my Mistress has sent me to ask you a Question forsooth.  Bank. 
What is it?  Jane. 
Whether you can tell Fortunes or no?  Bank. 
I can resolve all difficult Questions. But what is yours?  Jane. 
My Mistress would fain know how long it will be before she will be married: She has two Suitors, and she would likewise understand which of 'em should be her Husband.  Bank. 
Have Patience Sweetheart till I have consulted with my Authors, and I'll inform you straight. Recipe, reach me hither Haly, Ptolomey, and Argol. How filthily now should I have been puzzled, but that I understand how the Case stands between 'em, (Aside.) (Reads.) The Person whom your Mistress most affects is tall, and inclining to Black.  Jane. 
'Tis very true, that's Mr. Peregrine.  Bank. 
He is a Traveller, and a well-bred Gentleman, and I find contrary to her Father's commands, she has promised herself to him, the other she hates. Bid her cheer up, for though her Father intends to cross her in her Election, yet a strange providence shall prohibit him, and she at length matched to her Parents, and her own content.  Jane. 
I tremble to hear him: for he that knows all this, surely knows that all is not right with me. (Aside.)  Bank. 
Let me see, by my Figure, I find Venus Lady of the Ascendant, and Significatrix of your Mistress, strong and in an Angle; which argues, She's at her own disposal, only vitiated by the quartile Aspect of Jupiter, our of the fourth House, numating the Father: but he being detrimented by being in his Decanate (and Occidental also) his design is frustrated; and besides he is within two degrees of his Retrogradation.  Jane. 
Redograbation quotha; would I had ne'er come at him, I fear he will raise the Devil by and by; for certainly he's Conjuring. (Aside.)  Bank. 
The Man she loves not, is of a Middle stature, Brown hair, a Quick eye, and has a Roman nose, and is signified by Saturn, our of the eight house, in twenty four degrees, thirty nine minutes of Leo, and very near a Trine with Venus; but is prevented by the hasty interposition of the Moon's body, she being Anguler, Lady of the Tenth, in her own House, and in Sextil with Sol, out of the Twelfth: which intimates, that your Mistress shall in the very nick of time be delivered by a Woman from him she cannot loye.  Jane. 
This will be welcome News to my Mistress.  Bank. 
Her Husband that must be, is here signified by Mercury, in twenty one degrees, sixteen minutes of Aries, swift in motion, having many Essential dignities, and is applied to by the body of Venus; which Conjunction being in a fixed sign, and not impeded by the ill Aspect or Application of an Infortunate Planet, (but the inconsiderable quartile of Jupiter) it must needs be that they will be joined speedily.  Jane. 
And will they live happily forsooth?  Bank. 
Let me see my Figure again: after this Conjunction, Venus hastens to a Trine with Jupiter, who is Lord of the Mid-heaven; here I find a speedy reconciliation between her and her Father: besides Pars fortunae is in Semisextile to the cusp of the Ascendant, out of the second, and strengthened by being in the terms and exaltation of Jupiter. Every Significator is so full, that in spite of fate, they'll live happily. I cannot Err since my Figure is so radical.  Jane. 
Pray you forsooth let me trouble you a little farther: there's a Friend of mine, not very well, and she desires that you would cast her Water. (Gives him an Urinal.) Oh how my Heart pants to hear what he will say, 'tis my own Water; for I would willingly know the certainty of that which I have suspected on Just grounds this six weeks. (Aside)  Bank. 
'Tis Raggy— besides there are many more apparent Symptoms. Maid, tell thy Friend, she's with Child, and I find by a strong Planetary Conjunction, that she shall be delivered of Twins.  Jane. 
Then am I twice undone. But Sir, this will be unwelcome News to her, for she passes for a Maid, therefore if you cu'd help her in this Necessity, I'm confident she would well reward you.  Bank. 
Wud'it thou he me be a Murderer?  Jane. 
O no Sir, but she got her Mischance so lately, that it cannot yet be a living thing.  Bank. 
Thou talk'st according to thy Wisdom: here take this Powder, and let her drink off a penny weight every Morning, for nine days, and it will do her business.  Jane. 
I thank you good Mr. Doctor, I'll bring you your fee presently. (Exit.)  Bank. 
I think I've fitted her for a Quean, that which I gave her will prevent all her murdering Endeavours. 'Tis a pretty good beginning, Heaven continue. Exit.   

Act. 5. Scen. 2.  Enter Mr. Hopewell, and Mrs. Hopewell. Mr. Hope. 
As for what is past, I freely forgive thee, thou'rt now as chaste in my thoughts, as unspotted Virginity itself.  Mrs. Hope. 
I hope my frequent tears have washed me white again, and thy forgiveness has restored me to the good Opinion of myself for the time to come; Ye Powers above, deprive me immediately of that Soul ye gave me, so soon as I shall wrong that duty I own thee.  Mr. Hope. 
And let me not live, when I shall cease to love thee.  Mrs. Hope. 
My Dearest though I cu'd for ever content myself to discourse in this Dialect with thee, yet now an emergent business, which you shall Know more fully hereafter, will hinder us, and require your silence and attention a while. Stand by, Here he comes. Enter Kiltory, Scrivener with the Writings, and Pathrick.  Kilt. 
See here the performance of your Injunctions: but who's that Gentleman?  Mrs' Hope. 
A Kinsman's of mine, whose advice I took in this weighty affair. Alderman Thrivewell promised to be here too; and see he's come in the nick. Enter Thrivewell.  Thrive. 
Save ye All: come Widow, are the Writings drawn?  Kilt. 
Here they are: and take notice that in these I make a free surrender of my whole Estate to the use of Mrs. Anne Hopewell.  Thrive. 
Goods and Chattels?  Kilt. 
All, all.  Path. 
Ub, ub, ub, boo! arrow moister, will't tow give away all dine own things, and leave noting upon me poor Kilpathrick: suate shall my wise Juane do for de Cow dat make de buutermilk, and de bony clabber for die child and my shelf, and de mulaghane, and de garraane baane, and de garrane dough, thou didst make promise for me.  Kilt. 
Sirrah leave thy howling.  Path. 
My shelf no howl, me make speak for you: By St. Pathrick and St. Shone Batty, my shelf will make no servant for de.  Thrive. 
Come, come, Sign, sign: Kiltory delivers the writings to Mrs. Hopewell So, so.  Kilt. 
Now Madam, I've done my part, there's nothing wanting but the performance of yours.  Mrs. Hope. 
Which I shall quickly do; according to my promise, I freely bestow on you, all the right and title I have in myself.  Kilt. 
That's a gift greater than the riches of the Indie●s.  Mrs. Hope. 
No such matter Sir, 'tis none at all.  Kilt. 
How's that?  Mrs. Hope. 
Can you give away another man's interest?  Kilt. 
No.  Mrs. Hope. 
Then cannot I give away myself: that man, she Kinsman as I told you, has been my Master this seven years, and shall be all, till I am mastered by death.  Kilt. 
Am I now in the Meridian of my wisdom, thus cheated by Female subtlety.  Thrive. 
Ha', ha', I like thy wit Wench. Well, I have such an other at home, a notable Girl at a pinch.  Mrs. Hope. 
I give you much joy of your purchase Sir, far you well. Exit Mrs. Hopewel.  Thrive. 
Col. is this Debenture-land, or are you only an Adventurer: if so, you may come in among the forty nine men. Exeunt Thrivewel and Mr. Hopewel.  Path. 
Shoole a crogh, manam a dioule, thou greisie micheer, by my soulwation joy a chree, y told dee, de English vid put de sheet 'pon efry podyes.  Kilt. 
Woman was the first that ever took the Devil's council, and first communicated it to man, to the ruin of both their terrestrial happiness; and still I see he makes use still of that Sex, as his principle Instruments to perpetrate the most notorious evils. Impudence is a hereditary vice in 'em, other wise how cu'd she have looked me in the face, whilst she made me swallow her guilded Pills of dissimulation; and so intended to kill, when she did most pleasingly smile; they are Basilisks that destroy with their looks; Harpies that allure with their face, to murder with their talons; 'twas well she had not cheated me out of my soul too. Exit.  Path. 
May starsing come to her sheeks, strepoh granach, and may her fader's shield make die in de prishon. Exit.   

Act. 5. Scen. 3.  Enter Cassandra and Jane. Cassand. 
WEll Jane, what news have you brought me from the Conjurer?  Jane. 
Mistress, believe me if there be a Devil in Hell, he's one.  Cassand. 
Prithee why?  Jane. 
Why? he knows what every one does, and I think he knows their thoughts: He described Mr. Peregrine, and Mr. Contriver, as perfectly as if he had seen 'em a hundred times; and he says forsooth, that you shall speedily have Mr. Peregrine; and that Mr. Contriver's design of marrying you, shall be prevented by a woman: And then he fell a conjuring up of all the Devils in Hell I think; he was so well acquainted with 'em, that he called 'em by their names; as Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars, and I know not what beside.  Cassand. 
This news has revived me.  Jane. 
O but Mistress—  Cassand. 
What's the matter?  Jane. 
O I'm undone, I'm undone.  Cassand. 
Why, prithee why?  Jane. 
I'm ashamed to tell you forsooth.  Cassand. 
However I suspect what it is. I ever told you what your ramping on men's backs would come to.  Jane. 
Alas that did me no harm: But will you keep my secrets forsooth?  Cassand. 
I will, what is't?  Jane. 
About six weeks since, Robin the drawer and I, after all the rest were gone to bed, sat up late by the fire side; Robin indeed has born me affections any time this twelve month's day; after a great deal of talk, he told me he would marry me, and upon that he kissed me, I think, a thousand times, than I promised I would have none but him: then again he fell a kissing, and hugging, and tumbling me, and— I'm sure I was never well since; therefore to know what ailed me, I carried my water to the Doctor, and he told me, she that made it was with child.  Cassand. 
Is it so Huswife, that you have made my Father's house a Bawdy-house?  Jane. 
Nay, good Mistress, did you not promise me not to be angry?  Cassand. 
Is it possible that Robin's so gamesome, and you fond sool so heedless of your credit, well, you shall both walk for't, and then try whether wantonness will maintain you.  Jane. 
Good Mistress forgive.  Cassand. 
Well Huzzy, the love I ever bore you makes me pity your folly. I'll get a friend-shall sawder up the crack of your honesty; follow me. Exeunt.   

Act. 5. Scen. 4.  Enter Fantastic, solus. Phant. 
WHy should I rail at Fortune, calling her Whore, unconstant Quean, and the like; when my own soolish self, is the sole Author of my present misery. Had I not been infatuated, I might easily have prognosticated my future condition, by the courses I then took. I cannot stay at home, the distemper of my body maketh me every where restless. Neither durst I stir abroad, for fear of Arrests. Oh insupportable condition! from bad premises, I cu'd now draw a worse conclusion: Farewell fond Female pleasures, and welcome that Pilot that will steer me to the land of forgetfulness, where my weatherbeaten Vessel may be safely moored up, from the tempestuous, and swelling billows of all misfortunes; Oh— I'm right enough served. Here comes one that will plague me worse than the Pox itself. Enter Hic.  Hic. 
How now Fantastic, what's the matter, thou canst not steer aright; surely thou'st lost thy Rutter: You must be firing so often, that I thought you'd blow out your Brich-pin. Surely thy touchhole is very foul, for thou recoylest wickedly; let me see thee walk,— Bad, bad— I fear thou'rt past mending by a a Sereing, so that the utmost of thy expectation is e'er long to be all at slitters. Well, I am sorry that so good an Hackney should so quickly be beaten of his speed, and dry foundered. You see how drinking and whoring makes you draw your legs after you; come, thou must be stewed, else thou'lt ne'er be wholesome meat for the worms.  Phan. 
Prithee Hic forbear; my folly is so lively delineated by my fancy, that I am tortured thereby, worse than by the Disease, I now groan under. Yet this benefit Experience has bestowed upon me, to know, How merely imaginary was that Recreation I ever aimed at, and what miserable effects ensue the enjoyment thereof.  Hic. 
I cannot much condemn thee in thy just complaints; for they have made thee look like a— I know not what— A male Factor that has been hung up two or three years in Gibbets;— Why, thou art ham-shrunk, and broken-winded too. Don't thy bones ache pockily? stand farther off, thy breath is none of the sweetest. I perceive 'tis come to a snuffing in the head, a pox on that dampish air thou breathest in last.  Phan. 
A dampish air indeed; but if thou wilt curse it, let be some other way, for it has that already.  Hic. 
Let me advise you to be very careful, that you blow your face tenderly, thy nose will never endure it else. If I am not mistaken 'tis already not so fast, as it should be; don't you observe it shake in the Hilts.  Phan. 
Never give over; now I see thou'rt cruel, thou terrifiest me worse than a salivation, or a cleansing loation. He flings away from him.  Hic. 
Not so fast; move easily, you are but tender: going so fast may endanger the leaving of a League behind; thus much to be even with thee; and now for one that shall new vamp thee again. Excunt.   

Act. 5. Scen. 5.  Enter Kiltory, and Mr. Hopewell. Mr. Hope. 
SIr, My Conscience, and that principle of honesty, that I have ever preserved inviolated, will not permit me to be accessary to so soul an injury: Though you may have just cause to complain against the subtlety and fraudulent dissimulation of a woman, (my wife) yet you shall not have the least seeming ground against me. 'Tis true, what once was yours, is now lawfully (though not justly) my wives, and shall be yours again upon consideration.  Col. Kilt. 
What's that worthy Sir?  Mr. Hope. 
Your Estate being two hundred pound per Annum, if you will lend me a years anuity (but conditionally that you shall ne'er require it ' again) till I shall freely confess, that the improvement thereof hath made me fully able.  Col. Kilt. 
Sir, your extraordinary civility and honesty deserves far more.  Mr. Hope. 
'Tis only that sum, and the assurance of your friendship, that I desire.  Col. Kilt. 
This very act of yours, commands me to satisfy you in both. Excunt.   

Act. 5. Scen. 6.  Enter Thrivewell, Contriver, and Cassandra. Thrive. 
COme, come, never blush Daughter, 'tis time enough for that anon, when no body can see you.  Contr. 
Fairest Mistress, 'twill not now be many hours before you'll both change your name, and condition too.  Cassand. 
Dearest Father, are you then so cruel to wed me against my mind; certainly you cannot but have heard of the ill effects of forced Marriage.  Thrive. 
Hold your prating, 'tis now no time to talk of this.  Pereg. 
Mr. Alderman, I am come to inform you of that, which will be dangerous to conceal longer.  Thrive. 
Mr. Peregrine, I am glad to see you; but what is't Sir, that we may speedily prevent it.  Pereg. 
'Tis only the preserving your Daughter from being perjured; by doing which, you'll likewise invest me with the possession of my own.  Thrive. 
What d'ye mean?  Pereg. 
Mrs. Cassandra, your Daughter, who is as firmly mine, as vows, protestations, and invocation of Heaven (voluntarily proceeding out of her mouth) can make her.  Cont. 
How, how?  Pereg. 
'Tis very true Sir, and I'm confident she's too virtuous to be guilty (willingly) of the breach of such solemn Promises.  Cont. 
Sir, you do but flatter yourself, I cannot suspect her to be so facile, as to bestow herself so lightly on one, that's here to day, and gone to morrow.  Pereg. 
Pray be you silent, you troublesome contriving Coxcomb, unworthiness in the abstract—  Thrive. 
Mr. Peregrine, I should have been glad to have known your Intentions sooner; therefore I shall desire you to be silent too, for the Pretences are past taking effect.  Cass. 
Dear Father you'll break my Heart if you say so, for I must confess, I promised no less than that worthy Gentleman has expressed, as for my fault (if it may be accounted any) I humbly ask your pardon. (Mrs. Contriver knocks at door,) and Enters.  Thrive. 
Who's there? Come in.  Mrs. Cont. 
By your leave Gentlemen— Oh, are you here Sir! I heard of your Projects in England, which made me make the more haste over, to prevent you from doing that, which would undo me, that am your Wife, and her, that you intent to marry; and likewise save yourself from the Gallows.  Thrive. 
The Woman raves.  Mrs. Cont. 
No Sir, I'm in my right wits, though the baseness and unworthiness of my Husband's carriage (that hangs down his Head like a Sheep-biter) were enough to distract any one.  Thrive. 
Is he your Husband then?  Mrs. Cont. 
Yes (to my sorrow) this five years.  Cass. 
Oh Goodness! now are the Predictions of that rare ginger come about: Oh thou Villain; that cu'dst thus attempt to undo A harmless Maid.  Mrs. Cont. 
Pray Lady, were you She that was designed for his Bride?  Cass 
So it seems, though against my will.  Mrs. Cont. 
Oh thou monster-treacherous Villain! but that thy Conscience is seared, it cu'd not but hinder thee from committing so foul a Crime, upon so fair a Person. Is't not enough that thou hast trampled me under thy feet thus long, but must thou seek another subject to execute Injuries upon. Why don't you speak, and be hanged? now y'are dumb, (with a pox to ye;) but if you were alone with me, you'd find Tongue enough, and Hands too.  Thrive. 
Get out of my Doors dissembling Monster— O wicked Rascal—  Mr. Cont. 
How just is Heaven! I see there's no shelter from Divine vengeance, no resuge from the Allseeing eye. Now I am betrayed to my own deservings. Good Sir Pardon me, and Lady forget me for ever: Dearest Wife, remember not the many Injuries I have done thee, but forgive me. Now will I practise Repentance, and make it my daily study, how I may for the future live inoffensively.  Mrs. Cont. 
I like this Recantation well, because he never used it before. (Aside) Well, I'll forgive, and let me request all here to do the like.  Omnes. 
We do.  Cass. 
Loving Father, this Obstacle being removed, I know none remaining, but that you may be pleased, to let me perform my Promise to my dear Friend Peregrine.  Pereg. 
By permitting which, you'll render me most happy.  Thrive. 
Marriages are made in Heaven, and questionless it was there decreed your Union; therefore my blessing on you both.  Pereg. 
Sir, in that Word you have completed my Happiness; and now Lady we are arrived at that Port, from whence I hope we shall never weigh Anchor more, nor never part, till summoned by Death's palefaced Messenger.  Enter Hic & Vbique, Su Pouch, Mr. and Mrs Hopewell, and Fantastic. Thrive. 
How now Mr. Hic, what's the matter now?  Hic. 
Matter enough, Matter— a— money.  Thrive. 
Prithee, with whom?  Hic. 
With my honest Landlady here.  Thrive. 
Nay then we'll make but one Dinner for two Weddings.  Hic. 
This is as heart can wish. Fantastic, yet for all thou laughest and jear'st at me in my necessity, I would have so much pity now of thee in thine, as to make thee my Tapster, if thou canst go in Stilts, for thy Legs will never carry thee up stairs and down. But Gallants, 
Come first to Church let's go, and then let's dine,  
And spend our day in music, mirth, and wine:  
We'll dance like skipping Fawns, and gladly sing  
Soft Epithalmes, whilst Bells in Changes ring.   Pereg. 
That being ended, we'll consume the night In those sweet Pastimes, that our Love's delight.  
FINIS.