FORTUNE BY LAND and SEA...  
A tragicomedy.  
As it was Acted with great Applause by the QUEENS Servants.  
WRITTEN BY THO. HAYWOOD. AND WILLIAM ROWLY.  
LONDON: Printed for john Sweeting at the Angel in Popes-head Alley, and Robert Pollard at the Ben johnson's Head behind the Exchange. 1655.   

The Persons of the Play.  

Old Forest.  
Frank Forest. his Sons.  
Young Forest. his Sons.  
Old Harding.  
Philip his eldest Son married Susan Forest.  
William and John his younger Sons.  
M. Rainsford, a quarrelsome Gentleman.  
Goodwin, Gentlemen, Friends to Rainsford.  
Foster Gentlemen, Friends to Rainsford.  
Merchant, Brother to Mrs. Harding.  
Purser, and Clinton Pirates.  
Clown.  
pursuivant.  
Host.  
sailors.  
Hangman.  
Drawers.  
Officers.  
Mrs. Anne Harding, second Wife to old Harding.  
Susan, daughter of old Forest, wife of Philip Harding.   
The Scene LONDON.   

Fortune by Land and Sea.  

Act. 1.  

Scen. 1.  Enter Mr. Raynsfoorth, old Mr. Forrest, Frank Forrest, Susan Forrest, Goodwin and Mr. Foster, 2. Gentlemen. Rayns. 
I Prithee Frank let's have thy company to supper.  Frank. 
With all my heart if I can but give my Father here the slip by six o'clock I will not fail.  Rayns. 
I'll talk with him, I prithee old man lends thy son tonight, we'll borrow him but some two hours, and send him home again to thee presently.  Good. 
Faith do Mr. Forest, he cannot spend his time in better company.  Old For. 
Oh Gentlemen, his too much liberty breeds many strange outrageous ills in youth, and fashions them to vice.  Rayns. 
Nay school us not old man, some of us are too old to learn, and being past whipping too, there's no hope of profiting; if we shall have him say so? if not, I prithee keep him still, and God give the good of him.  Frank. 
Nay will you be gone, I'll be at the heels of you as I live.  Fost. 
'Tis enough, nay come, and if we shall go, let's go:  Old For. 
Nay Gentlemen do not mistake me pray, I love my son, but do not dote on him; nor is he such a darling in mine eye, that I am sought to have him from my sight; yet let me tell you, had you gentlemen called him to any fairer exercise, as practice of known weapons, or to back some gallant jennet; had it been to dance, leap in the fields, to wrestle, or to try masteries in any noble quality, I could have spared him to you half his age:  
But call him out to drinking, of all skill  
I hold that much used practice the most ill.  Frank. 
I told him you would still be urging him, and see what comes on't. I Per sequar.  Rayns. 
Sir what we does in love, and let you know we do not need his purse nor his acquaintance, nor if you should mistake, can we be sorry nor wound to ask your pardon: fare ye well, come Gentlemen.  Frank. 
will you be gone? I'll come.  Old Forr. 
Oh son that thou wilt follow rioting, surfeit by drinking and unseasoned hours; these Gentlemen perhaps may do't they're rich, well landed, and their Fathers purchase daily, where I heaven knows the world still frowning on me, am forced to sell and mortgage to keep you. His brother ranks himself with the best gallants that flourish in the Kingdom, thee not able to spend with them, yet for his virtuous parts he is borne out, his person wooed and sought, and they more bound to him for his discourse than he to them for their expense and cost. Thy course is otherwise, all drinking healths, cups of mulled Sack, and glass's elbow deep: drink in thy youth, maintain thee in thine age, no 'twill not hold out boy.  Frank. 
My company hath not been to your purse so chargeable; I do not spend so much.  Old Forr. 
Thou spendest thy time more precious than thy coin, consumest thy hopes, thy fortunes and thy after expectations, in drowning surfeits, tell me canst thou call that thrift to be in all these prodigal.  
Use thy discretion, somewhat I divine,  
Mine is the care, the loss or profit thine. Exit.  Susan. 
Brother be ruled, my Father grieves to see you given to these boundless riots, will you follow?  Frank. 
Lead you the way, I'll after you.  Susan. 
'Tis well, he'll look for you within,  Frank. 
When? can you tell? Exeunt severally.  Enter Raynsfoorth, Goodwin, and Foster. Rayns. 
Boy my cloak.  Goodw. 
Our cloaks sirrah. Enter a Drawer.  Fost. 
Why Drawer.  1. Drawer 
Here Sir.  Rayns. 
Some Canary Sack and Tobacco.  Draw. 
You shall Sir, wilt please you stay supper?  Rayns. 
Yes marry will we Sir, let's have the best cheer the kitchen yields: the pipe sirrah  Drawer. 
Here Sir.  Rayns. 
Will Frank be here at supper?  Goodw. 
So Sir he promised, and presumes he will not fail his hour.  Rayns. 
Some Sack boy, I am all led within, there's no mirth in me, nor was I wont to be so lumpish sad: reach me the glass: what's this?  Draw. 
Good Sherry Sack Sir.  Rayns. 
I meant Canary Sir, what hast no brains?  Draw. 
Pox a your brains, are your fingers so light.  Rains. 
Say sir.  Draw. 
You shall have Canary presently.  Goodw. 
When was he wont to be in this sad strain, excepting some few sudden melancholies, there lives not one more free and sociable.  Fost. 
I am too well acquainted with his humour, to stir his blood in the least distemperature; coz I'll be with you here. Enter Drawer.  Rains. 
Do, come to me; have you hit upon the right Canary now or could your Hogshead find a Spanish But? A health.  Goodw. 
Were it my height I'll pledge it.  Fost. 
How do you now man?  Rains. 
Well, well, exceeding well, my melancholy sadness steals away, and by degrees shrinks from my troubled heart: Come let's be merry, more Tobacco boy, and bring in supper. Enter Frank Forrest.  Fost. 
Frank, welcome, welcome, wilt thou be here old lad?  Goodw. 
Or here?  Fran. 
Wherefore hath nature lent me two hands but to use them both at once (my cloak) I am for you here and here.  Fost. 
Bid them make haste of supper; some discourse to pass away the time.  Rains. 
Now Frank, how stole you from your Father's arms? you have been schooled no doubt; fie, fie upon't, ere I would live such base servitude to an old grey beard, 'sfoot I'd hang myself. A man cannot be merry and drink drunk, but he must be controlled by gravity.  For. 
O pardon him, you know he is my father, and what he doth is but paternal love; though I be wild, I am not so past reason, his person to despise though I his counsel cannot severely follow.  Rains. 
'sfoot he's a fool.  Fran. 
A fool; you're a—  Fost. 
Nay Gentlemen.  Frank. 
Yet I restrain my tongue, hoping you speak out of some spleenful rashness, and no deliberate malice: And 'tmay be you are sorry that a word so unreverent to wrong so good an aged Gentleman should pass you unawares.  Rains. 
Sorry, Sir boy, you will not take exceptions.  Fra. 
Not against you with willingness, whom I have loved so long; yet you might think me a most dutiless and ungracious Son to give smooth countenance unto my father's wrong; come, I dare swear 'twas not your malice, and I take it so; let's frame some other talk, hear Gentlemen.  Rains. 
But hear me boy, it seems Sir you are angry.  Fra. 
Not throughly yet.  Rains. 
Then what would anger thee?  Fra. 
Nothing from you.  Rains. 
Of all things under heaven what wouldest thou loathest have me do?  Fra. 
I would not have you wrong my reverent Father, and I hope you will not.  Rains. 
Thy Father's an old dotard.  Fran. 
I could not brook this at a monarch's hands, much less at thine.  Rains. 
I boy, then take you that. Flings wine in's face.  Fra. 
I was not born to brook this, oh I am slain.  Goodw. 
Sweet coz what have you done; shift for yourself.  Rains. 
Away. Exeunt.  Enter two Drawers. 1. Draw. 
Stay the Gentlemen, they have killed a man: O sweet Mr. Francis; one run to his Fathers.  2. Draw. 
Had not we Drawers enough in the house, but they must needs draw too?  1. Draw. 
They have drawn blood of this Gentleman that I have drawn many a quart of wine to: Oh sweet Mr. Francis; hark, hark, I hear his Father's voice below, ten to one he is come to fetch him home to supper, and now he may carry him home to his grave: See here he comes.  Enter the Host, Mr. Forrest, and Susan. Host: 
You must take comfort, Sir.  old For. 
Would heaven I could, or that I might beg patience.  Sus. 
Oh my brother.  old For. 
Is he dead, is he dead girl.  Sus. 
Oh dead sir, Frank is dead.  old For. 
Alas, alas my boy, I have not the heart to look upon his wide and gaping wounds: Hide them, oh hide them from me, left those mouths through which his life passed through swallow mine: Pray tell me, Sir, doth this appear to you fearful and pitiful, to you that are a stranger to my dead boy?  Host. 
How can it otherwise?  old For. 
Oh me most wretched of all wretched men, if to a stranger his warm bleeding wounds appear so grisly, and so lamentable, how will they seem to me that am his Father? will they not hale my eyeballs from their rounds, and with an everlasting blindness strike 'em.  Sus. 
Oh Sir, look here.  old For. 
Dost thou long to have me blind, then I'll behold them since I know thy mind: oh me is this my son that doth so senseless lie, and swims in blood, my soul shall fly with his  
Unto the land of rest, behold I crave,  
Being killed with grief we both may have one grave.  Sus. 
Alas my Father's dead too gentle Sir, help to retire his spirits over-travelled with age and sorrow.  Hest. 
Mr. Forest.  Sus. 
Father.  old For. 
What says my girl? good morrow; what's o'clock that you are up so early? call up Frank, tell him he lies too long a-bed this morning: was wont to call the Sun up, and to raise the early Lark, and mount her 'mongst the clouds; will he not up, rise, rise thou sluggish boy.  Sus. 
Alas he cannot Father.  old For. 
Cannot, why?  Sus. 
Do you not see his bloodless colour fail.  old For. 
Perhaps he's sickly that he looks so pale.  Sus. 
Do you not feel his pulse no motion keep? how still he lies.  old For. 
Then is he fast asleep?  Sus. 
Do you not see his fatal eyelid close.  old For. 
Speak softly, hinder not his soft repose.  Sus. 
Oh see you not these purple conduits run, know you these wounds?  old Fost. 
Oh me my murdered Son.  Enter young Mr. Forrest. Mr. For. 
Sister.  Sus. 
O brother, brother.  Mr. For. 
Father, how cheer you Sir? why you were wont to store for other's comfort that by sorrow were any way distressed, have you all wasted, and spared none to yourself.  old For. 
Oh Son, son, son, see alas, see where thy brother lies, he dined with me today, was merry, merry, eye that course was, he that lies here, see there thy murdered brother, and my son was, see dost not thou not weep for him.  Mr. For. 
I shall find time,  
When you have took some comfort I'll begin  
To mourn his death, and scourge the murderer's sin.  
Dear father be advised, take hence his body, and let it have a solemn funeral.  old For. 
But for the murderer, shall not he attend the sentence of the Law with all severity.  Mr. For. 
Have you but patience, should we urge the Law he hath such honourable friends to guard him, we should in that but bark against the Moon; nay do not look that way, take hence the body, let the Law sleep, the time ere it be long; may offer't self to a more just revenge: We are poor, and the world frowns on all our fortune, with patience then bear this amongst the rest: The heavens when they be pleased may turn the wheel of Fortune round, when we that are dejected, may be again raised to our former height.  old For. 
Oh when saw Father such a tragic sight,  
And did outlive it, never son, ah never  
From mortal breast run such a precious River.  Mr. For. 
Come Father and dear Sister join with me,  
Let us all learn our sorrows to forget,  
He owed a death, and he hath paid that debt. Exeunt.   

Scen. 2.  Enter old Mr Harding, his two sons William and John, his Wife Anne, as newly come fram the Wedding. old Hard. 
So things are as they should be, we have attained the height of solace and true joy, sweet Nan no, sooner married but a Mother of this my hopeful Issue, cheer thoughts, for what I want in youth I will supply in true affection, and what age doth scant me in sprightly vigour, I'll make good in wealth.  Anne: 
Sir, you well know I was not easily won, and therefore not soon changed; advisedly, not rashly did I venture on your love. My young unsettled thoughts from their long travels have late attained unto their journey's end, and they are now at rest.  old Hard. 
Here they have found a harbour to retire to.  Wil: 
'Twould become you to use my Father here respectively: you see how he receives you almost dowerless.  Ioh. 
'True, where he out of his own abilities might have commanded Widows richer far, ay, and perhaps each way as beautiful.  Anne: 
Upbraid me not, I do confess he might, nor was this match my seeking: If it hath pleased your father for some virtues known in me, to grace me with his free election: Methinks it worse becomes you being sons to blame a Father's pleasure; howsoever better myself I cannot if he thought me  
Worthy his bed I see small reason you  
Should wrong me to him that my state best knew.  old Hard. 
Nann, I am pleased they shall be satisfied; and boys I tell you, though you be my sons, you much forget your duty to a Mother whom I hold worthy to be called my Wife; no more of this I charge you.  Wil: 
Sir, we have done.  old Hard: 
No child to her, can be to me no Son.  Ioh. 
I am pleased, here my spleen dies,  
Suddenly fallen as it did quickly rise.  old Hard: 
This is the end I aimed at, were my eldest present among us much I had my height of wishes. Enter Clown.  Clow. 
I have been there, Sir.  old Hard. 
And foundest thou my Son Philip?  Clown 
When you had given him me in charge, I had of him great care I have took of him great care, and I have took him napping, as you know who took his Mare: I found your son Philip like a cock-sparrow billing: if I had stayed but a little longer, I might have taken him and his hen treading, I know not whether it be St. Valentine's day or no, but I am sure they are coupled.  old Hard. 
How coupled dost thou mean?  Clown 
I see them one and one, and that you know makes two, and two makes a couple, and they well coupled, may in time make a third between 'em; I do not think but 'tis like to be a match.  old Hard: 
I vow if e'er he match into that family, the Kindred being all beggared, that forced union shall make a firm divorce twixt him and mine.  Enter Philip and Susan. Clown 
Here they are, Sir, coram nobis, you will find it a plain case if the matter be well searched; I have spoke but what I have seen; and now let every one answer for themselves.  old Hard: 
What means these hands?  Phil. 
Nothing Sir, save a mere interchange of hearts and souls doubly made fast by vows.  old Hard: 
'Twixt her and thee!  Phil: 
So, and no otherwise.  old Hard: 
Yet thou hast time to pause, and to repeat but after this no limit to consider; cast her off, or henceforth I disclaim thee for my Son.  Phil: 
Yet I shall ever hold you for my father.  old Hard: 
Then show in this thy duty, quite forsake her, and be restored into my family.  Phil: 
O Sir she is a virgin chaste and fair, unto whose bed I am by oath engaged; that power above that heard the contract pass, both heard, approved, and still records the same: Oh Sir I am of years, oft have you wished to see me well bestowed, and now's the time your wish hath took effect: It was your prayer that heaven would send me a good Wife, and lo in her they have showed their bounty.  old Hard. 
Thou thy baseness, take one that's of my chasing.  Phil: 
Do men use by other hearts and eyes their wives to choose?  old Hard: 
She's poor.  Phil: 
Yet virtuous.  old Hard: 
Virtue, a sweet dower.  Phil: 
Yet that when Mammon fails retains her power.  old Hard: 
Possessed of virtue than thou need ought else.  Phil: 
Riches may waste by fire, by sea, by stealth,  
But water, fire, nor theft can virtue waste,  
When all else fails us that alone shall last.  old Hard: 
Go to Cheapside with virtue in your purse,  
And cheapen Plate, or to the Shambles high,  
And see what meat with virtue you can buy.  
Will virtue make the pot seethe, or the Jack turn a spit laden? tell me, will your Landlord at quarter day take virtue for his rent? will your wife's virtue yield you ten i'th' hundred? a good stock would do all this: Come, come Son, I'll find thee a rich match and turn her off.  Wil: 
Faith do brother, the only way to thrive is to be ruled by my Father.  john: 
Do you think I being but the youngest, would marry under the degree of a Gentlewoman, and that without my father's consent too?  Phil: 
I wish you may not, but withal advise you to make a conscience how you break a vow: And Sir, for you, with pardon, I could trace you even in that path in which I stand condemned: This Gentlewoman my beauteous Mother-in-law, whose virtues I both honour, and admire, whom in no kind I envy, I presume you married not for riches; for if so, Where is that wealthy Dower she brought along? being yourself example blame me not to make a father my strict precedent.  
In viewing me bear but yourself in mind,  
And prove to her, as I to this like kind.  Anne. 
The Gentleman speaks well, pray let me mediate between you a reconcilement.  Wil: 
Good Sir do.  Ioh: 
Since 'tis my Mother's pleasure to take't well, we'll be joint suitors with her.  Clow. 
And I too good Master.  old Hard: 
the boy's inflexible, and I obdure, he cannot be more saucy to object that which I would not hear than I perverse, in yielding to a knave so obstinate.  Sus. 
He is your Son, and of your blood the first; brand him not with a name so odious, you cannot write yourself a Gentleman, but leave him of that name inheritor, though you have power to take away his means, deprive him both your blessing and your love,  
Which methinks in a Father should seem strange,  
His state, you may his blood you cannot change.  Old Hard. 
Bated on all sides: have I been thus long a Father and a Master to direct, to be at these years pupiled by a girl? a beggar, one that all the wealth she has, bears on her back, and shall I suffer this? whilst these that ought to arm me with just rage, preach to me patience; I'll endure no more, come leave them sweet wife, gentle sons away. Exeunt.  Phil. 
I'll have thee yet though all the world say nay.  Clow. 
Now which of these parties shall I cleave to and follow: well now I remember myself I'll show myself a true Citizen and stick to the stronger side. Exit.   

Scen. 3.  Enter Mr. Raynsfoorth and young Mr. Forrest meeting. For. 
Pray let me speak with you.  Rayns. 
With me Sir?  Forr. 
With you.  Rayns. 
Say on.  Forr. 
Do you not know me?  Rayns. 
Keep off upon the peril of thy life, come not within my sword's length lest this Arm prove fatal to thee, and bereave thy life, as it hath done thy brothers.  Forr. 
Why now thou knowest me truly by that token, that thou hast slain my brother, put up, put up, so great a quarrel as a brother's life must not be made a street brawl, 'tis not fit that every Apprentice should with his shop-club, betwixt us play the sticklers, sheath thy sword.  Rayns. 
Swear thou wilt act no sudden violence, or this sharp sword shall still be interposed twixt me and thy known hatred.  Young Forr. 
Sheath thy sword, by my religion and that interest I have in Gentry I will not be guilty of any base revenge.  Rayns. 
Say on.  Forr. 
Let's walk, trust me let not thy guilty soul be jealous of my fury this my hand's curbed and governed by an honest heart, not by just anger, I'll not touch thee foully for all the world: let's walk.  Rayns. 
Proceed.  Forr. 
Sir, you did kill my brother, had it been in fair and even encounter, though a child, his death I had not questioned.  Rayns. 
Is this all?  Forr. 
he's gone, the Law is past, your life is cleared, for none of all our kindred laid against you evidence to hang you; you're a Gentleman, and pity 'twere a man of your descent should die a felon's death: See Sir, thus far we have demeaned fairly like ourselves: but think you though we wink at base revenge, a brother's death can be so soon forgot, our Gentry baffled and our name disgraced? no 'tmust not be, I am a Gentleman well known; and my demeanour hitherto hath promised somewhat: should I swallow this, the scandal would out live me: briefly then I'll fight with you.  Rayns. 
I am loath.  Forr. 
Answer directly whether you dare to meet me on even terms, or mark how I'll proceed.  Rayns. 
Say I deny't.  Forr. 
Then I say thou art a villain and I challenge thee, where ere I meet thee next, in field or town, thy Father's manners or thy tenant's grange, saving the Church, there is no privilege in all this land for thy despised life; no guard of friends, no night walks, or sly stealth, no jealous fear which in a murderer's eye keeps hourly watch, shall have the privilege: this even and balanced fight body to body; I'll kill thee be it in thy bed, at meat, in thy wives arms; as thou tookest my brother, with thy back towards me, basely: answer me.  Rayns. 
I'll meet with thee; the hour?  Forr. 
By six tomorrow morning, 'tis your privilege to appoint the place and weapon.  Rayns. 
Hownse low the place, my choice of weapon this.  Forr. 
I can except at neither; fail the place, or suit your weapon's length, farewell. Exit.  Rayns. 
Yes 'tis thou meetest thy last farewell on earth, the appointed hour's tomorrow: let the same fate obscure his desperate head that fell upon his brothers. Enter Goodwin and Foster.  Goodw. 
Now Cousin Raynsforth.  Rayns. 
I'll so swinge my younker.  Fost. 
Why who hath raised this storm Sir?  Rayns. 
wot'st thou what? The elder Forest parted but even now, called me to question 'bout his brother's death, and since hath challenged me.  Goodw. 
Challenged?  Rayns. 
Challenged me.  Fost. 
Why he's too uvea for you.  Rayns. 
Yes, I shall weak him, my purpose is to teach the stripling fear And you be honest Gentlemen stand but a loof tomorrow, and observe how I will swinge my youth about the field.  Goodw. 
And please Heaven I'll be there.  Fost 
And so will I.  Rayns. 
He seeks his fate, and murderers once being in Wade farther till they drown; sin pulls on sin. Exit.   
Explicit Actus primus.   

Act. 2.  

Scen. 1.  Enter Old Harding, William, John, Anne. Will. 
'tIs true upon my life.  Old. Hard, 
Say what thou wilt I'll not believe it boy.  Will, 
Do you believe me to be your Son William.  Old Ha. 
Well.  Will. 
Do you believe I stand here?  Old Hard. 
On.  Will. 
That this Gentlewoman is your wife?  Old Hard. 
So.  Will. 
That jack Harding here is my brother?  Old Hard. 
Good.  Will. 
That I speak to you, that you list to me? Do you believe any think that is to be believed?  Old Hard. 
What of all this?  Will. 
Then believe my brother Philip has married Mistress Susan. I saw them in the Church together; I heard them pronounce the words together, whether it be better or worse for them I know not, but they are in for better and worse, that I am sure.  Old Hard. 
As sure as thou art certain this is true, so sure I'll disinherit the proud boy: and all the magazine that I enjoy, divide 'tween you my sons.  john 
Not all Father, alas, allow him some small legacy to live on.  Will: 
If't be but a cast Farm, or some poor Cottage rather than nothing, it may be he'll content himself with a little, you know somewhat hath some favour.  Old Hard: 
He that hath set me and my love at nothing I'll leave him worth as little.  Anne 
Chide him you may, but yet not cast him off; For Fathers ought most chastise where they love; Parents as I have read, their rage should hide where children fall through weakness, not through pride.  Old Hard: 
They are none such to me, my vow is past,  
My life may fade, but yet my will shall last.  Enter Philip and Susan. Will. 
See where the four bare legs that belong to a bed come, I could almost pity him.  jack 
And why pity him, all the while that marriage is the first step to our making?  Phil: 
See Sir 'tis done  Old Hard: 
And thou undone.  Phil: 
In losing your kind favour more undone then in your casual wealth.  Old Hard. 
By all that I enjoy.  Phil. 
Oh swear not, spare that oath, I'll credit you, although you speak but mildly.  Old Hard: 
So thrive I, if for this marriage made in despite of me I make thee partner of any substance that's accounted mine.  Phil: 
Not made in spite of you, unsay that language, and than you chide me truly as I live. And though on earth by your disherited hope to be heir to heaven; I matched with her in sincere love, but in no spleen to you, though you have sworn to give my fortunes from me; you have not sworn to reave me of your love, that let me have, let others take the land.  Old Hart. 
My love goes with my land, and in this marriage thou hast lost both.  Phil. 
Your substance I despise, but to lose that draws rivers from my eyes.  Anne 
Oh bear a soft and more relenting soul, and look upon the virtues of your son, this Gentlewoman's birth.  Old Hard. 
Wife, wife, if he have married her for birth, then let her birth maintain him.  Anne 
My kind sons speak to your faith.  Will: 
Alas Mother, you hear my Father hath sworn, and do you love him, and would make him break's oath.  john 
Engage his soul, that were a wife's part indeed.  Will: 
As I live I would not wish him now he has sworn to alter his mind in the least circumstance, for more than I'll speak.  Phil: 
I am a kinder son than you be brothers, have you renounced me for your son?  Old Hard. 
I have.  john 
You see he has.  Phil: 
You have not yet renounced me for your servant, that title let me bear, I'll be your man, and wear your Livery, since my poverty enforces me to serve, let it be you.  Will. 
Grant him that good Father, when you want employment for him, I may sometimes have occasion to use him myself.  john 
A reasonable motion, you want a servingman, since you must hire one on force, as good him as another.  Phil: 
He wants a Maid too, let him hire this woman, his servant not his daughter, give us but as you would do to strangers we are pleased.  Will. 
The motion's not amiss, can you milk sweet heart.  Susan 
I can.  Will: 
And sweep a house, serve a hog, grope a hen, feel a duck, wash and wring.  Susan 
what I have used, my soft hand best can show, but what I cannot I'll be glad to learn.  john 
A good willing mind in troth, and can you bake and brew?  Susan 
I shall be easily taught.  john. 
you'd best look too't, for as you brew, so you're like to drink.  Old Hard. 
Sirrah, sirrah, can you hold the plough and thrash, sow, reap, load a cart, drive a Teem.  Phil. 
These or what else I'll practise.  Old Hard. 
Come then of with these gay clothes, no habit's fit for hinds; help boys to suit them as their fortunes are; go search in the clowns wardrobe.  Will. 
Fear not we'll fit 'em as well as if we had ta'en measure of 'em.  Ann 
To see this misery with such patience born, makes me to pity where these others scorn.  john 
Here Sir is that will serve the turn if you employ him in the corn fields, I'll warrant him fright the birds, here's that will make him look like a scarecrow.  Will. 
And here's that will change the copy of her case, though not of her countenance.  Old Hard. 
Too good for drudges, live now by your sweat, and at your labour make account to eat.  Phil. 
Here's but a sorry wedding day.  Susan 
My sweet Philip that thou shouldst suffer these extremes for me, only for me.  Phil. 
Let that betwixt my soul and thine be witness of my constant love; Alas for thee that thou must drudge and toil, and having been a Mistress all thy life, must now become a servant. Ent. Clown.  Clow. 
This being the wedding day of my Master's eldest Son, I expect rare cheer. As first, the great spiced Cake to go in, Cakebread fashion, drawn out with Currans, the jealous Formety must put on his yellow hose again, and hot Pies come mincing after, the boiled Mutton must swim in a River of stewed broth, where the channel's made of Prunes. Instead of pebbles, and prime reasons, and currants in the stead of chequer stones and gravel, to omit Geese and Gulls, Ducks and Dotterels Widgins and Woodcocks, of which there will be plenty. At our wedding dinner we shall have the Bride in her tiffety taffeties most sumptuous, and the Bridegroom as well in branched Satin as branched Rosemary most courageous. I'll in and see them in all their beauty, and give them the Joy, the boon Jour, the Besilus Manus, or to be more vulgar to the Incapable, the God give you good morrow.  Phil. 
Good morrow fellow simkin.  Clow. 
'Tis he, no, no, 'tis not he.  Sus. 
Good simkin.  Clow. 
Her face, the trick of her eye, her leer, her blink, her askew, but to say it is she, Proh deum atque hominum fidem.  Phil. 
Art thou amazed to see me thus transformed, or her thus altered, none but such a Father, such a remorseless and hard hearted Father, could so translated his children.  Clown. 
Oh Mr. Philip, I see your Father is no Scholar, but a mere Dunce, I protest I never read a more vild translation.  Sus. 
Nor see so sudden and unmeet a change.  Clow. 
O young Mistress, Ovid's Metamorphosis could never show the the like; but how comes this to pass the manner, the manner, my heart begins to condole, and my conduit pipes to open, we shall have a shower presently; the manner?  Phil. 
This morning having married my betrothed, for could I less do having vowed so much? I came to him and most submissively entreated pardon for myself and her.  Clow. 
Kind young man— hold good heart.  Phil: 
He presently revises us, then renounced us, nor would he give us, should he see us starve and famish at his gate, no not a crust of his hinds bread, or of his smallest beer not a bare crusful should we die for thirst.  Clown 
'Twill out, 'twill out, but now for the apparel.  Sus: 
When he renounced us for his children, we had no means reserved unless with baseness to beg our victuals, were resolved to work, so he at our entreaty hired us both to be his hinds and drudges.  Clown 
Your apron good Mistress, and so and so, you were stripped out of your silks and satins, and forced to put on these russets and sheepskins.  Phil: 
Even so.  Clown 
O most tyrannical old Fornicator (old Master I would say) Well since 'tis so, no more young Master, but fellow servant; no more Master Philip but Phil; here's my hand I'll do two men's labours in one to save you a labour, and to spare your shoulders I'll help at many a dead lift: Come I'll go teach ye hayte and ree, gee and who, and which is to which hand; next I'll learn you the name of all our Teem, and acquaint you with Jock the fore-horse, and Fibb the fill-horse, and with all the godamercy fraternity.  Sus: 
Succeed it as heaven please.  Phil. 
What must be, must be, heaven hath set it down,  
At which they smile, why should we mortals frown?  Clow 
To see so brave a Gentleman turn Clown.  Exeunt.   

Act. 2.  

Scen. 1.  Enter Goodwin and Foster. Fost. 
Are we not somewhat too early think you?  Goodw. 
It appears so, for neither challenger nor defendant are yet in field.  Fost: 
Which way do you think the day will go? or whether of them do you hold to be the better man?  Goodw: 
That I am not able to judge, but if the opinion of the world hold currant, he that killed one brother, is thought will be the death of the other, but these things are beyond us: lie close for being seen.  Enter Rainsforth and Forrest the younger. Rains. 
Your resolution holds then?  young For: 
Men that are easily moved, are soon removed from resolution, but when with advice and with foresight we purpose, our intents are not without considerate reasons altered.  Rains: 
Thou art resolved, and I prepared for thee, yet thus much know, thy state is desperate, and thou art now in danger's throat already even half devoured; if I subdue thee, know thou art a dead man; for this fatal steel that searched thy brother's entrails is prepared to do as much to thee; if thou survivest and I be slain, thouart dead too, my alliance and greatness in the world will not endure my slaughter unrevenged. Come, I am for thee.  young For: 
I would my brother lived that this our difference might end in an embrace of folded love; but 'twas heavens will that for some guilt of his he should be scourged by thee, and for that guilt in scourging him thou by my vengeance punished, come I am both ways armed against thy steel, if I be pierced by it, or against thy greatness mine pierce thee.  Rains. 
Have at thee. Fight and pause.  For 
I will not bid thee hold, but if thy breath be as much short as mine look to thy weakness.  Rains. 
The breath thou drawst but weakly, thou now shalt draw no more. Fight, Forrest loseth his weapon.  For. 
That heaven knows, he guard my body that my spirit owes.  He guards himself, and puts by with his hat, slips, the other running falls over him. and Forrest kills him. Goodw. 
My x's fallen, pursue the murderer.  Fost. 
But not too near I pray, you see he's armed, and in this deep amazement may commit some desperate outrage.  For. 
Had I but known the terror of this deed, I would have left it done imperfectly, rather than in this guilt of conscience laboured so far, but I forget my safety, the Gentleman is dead, my desperate life, will be overswayed by his Allies and friends, and I have now no safety but by flight.  
And see where my pursuers come, away,  
Certain destruction hovers o'er my stay. Exit.  Goodw. 
Come follow, see he takes towards the City, you bear the body of my x hence unto the neighbour village: I'll still keep  
Within the murderer's sight, raise Hue and cry,  
He shall not scape our pursuit though he fly. Exeunt.  Enter William and Philip. Will: 
now will truss me that point Phil, I could find in my heart to beg thee of my Father to wait upon me, but that I am afraid he cannot spare thee from the plough: besides I heard him say but the last day, thou wast more fit to make a hind than a serving man.  Phil: 
Sir, you were once my brother.  Wil: 
True, but that was when you were a son to my father.  Phil: 
I and my younger brother, I had then priority of birth.  Wil: 
But now it seems we have got the start of you, for being but a servant you are taken a button-hole lower.  Phil: 
When will this tedious night give place today?  Wil: 
I hope I may command.  Phil. 
I must obey. Enter Joh. & Sus.  Ioh: 
My string Sue, are these shoes well mundified, down a your maribones good Sue, I hope you are not so straight laced but you can stoop: you acknowledge me one of your young Masters, if not, 'tis not unknown to you that I know the way to my father.  Sus: 
Yes Sir, and can tell tales, I know you can, and I have felt the smart on't.  Ioh: 
Whip me if you shall not if you begin once to grow stubborn: why when?  Sus. 
As humble as your feet. Enter Mrs. Anne.  Anne: 
Why how now maid is this work fitting you? and you Sir, you are looked for in the stable, and should not loiter here, will you be gone?  Phil. 
I am for any service. Exit.  Sus. 
And I too. Exit.  Anne: 
We shall find other things for you to do.  Wil: 
If you cannot here be they that can, a drudge, a groom, I'll send him of my errand.  Ioh: 
And if I do not find work for her, I'll do nothing but take Tobacco in every room, because twice a day I'll make her make clean house thee. Exeunt.  Anne: 
These think because I am their Stepmother, their chiefest torture is most my content, when I protest, to see them thus afflicted it grates my very heartstrings every hour: For though before their Fathers ruthless eye, and their remorseless brothers, I seem stern, yet privately they taste of my best bounty,  
And other of my servants are by me  
Hired to overcome their chiefest drudgery.  
Within Follow follow, follow. Ent. young For. with his weapon drawn  young For. 
I am pursued, and there is no place of refuge left to my desperate life, but here's a woman, oh if she harbour soft effeminate pity she may redeem me from a shameful death.  Anne: 
A man thus armed to leap my garden wall; help, help.  young For: 
As you are fair, and should be pitiful, a woman therefore to be moved; a Christian, and therefore one that should be charitable, pity a poor distressed Gentleman, who gives his desperate fortune, life and freedom into your hand.  Anne: 
What are you Sir, that with your weapon drawn affright me thus?  young For. 
If you protect my life, fair creature, I am a free Gentleman, but if betray me, than a poor man doomed unto a shameful death.  Anne: 
What's your offence that such suspicious fear, and timorous doubts waits on your guilty steps?  young For: 
I have killed a man, but fairly as I am a Gentleman, without all base advantage in even trial of both our desperate fortunes.  Anne: 
Fairly?  young For: 
And though I say it, valiantly.  Anne: 
And hand to hand?  young For. 
In single opposition.  Anne: 
In a good quarrel?  young For. 
Else let the hope I have in you of safety turn to my base confusion. Gentle creature A cry within follow, &c. I cannot now stand to expostulate; for hark the breath of my pursuers blow a fearful air upon my flying heel, and I am almost in their fatal gripe. Say will you save me?  Anne: 
I will, then climb into that hovel.  young For. 
Oh anywhere.  Anne: 
Nay quickly then.  young For: 
Your hand fair Lady.  Anne: 
Away, leave me to answer for you.  Enter old Harding, Goodwin, Foster, and Officers. old Hard: 
Over my garden wall, is't possible?  Goodw: 
Over this wall I see him leap it lightly.  old Hard. 
That shall we quickly know, see here's my wife, she can inform us best.  Fost. 
Saw you not Mistress Harding, a young man mount o'er this garden wall with his sword drawn?  Anne: 
My eyes were steadfast on my work in hand, and trust me I saw none.  old Hard: 
Perhaps he took down to the neighbour village, and when he saw my wife, altered his course.  Anne: 
'Tis very like so, for I heard a bustling about that hedge, besides a sudden noise of some that swiftly ran towards your fields, make haste, 'twas now, he cannot be far off.  old Hard: 
Gentlemen, take my word, I am high Constable; it is part of my office, I'll be no shelter for any man that shall offend the Law: if we surprise him, I will send him bound to the next Justice, follow you your search.  Good. 
Farewell good Mr. Harding.  Fost. 
Your word's sufficient without further Warrant,  
Continue our pursuit, all ways are laid  
And ere he reach the City, shall be stayed. Exit. Good. & Fost.  old Hard. 
A dew good friends.  Anne. 
Pray what's the business Sir?  old Hard. 
Two Gentlemen, went into the fields to fight,  
And one hath slain another.  Anne. 
On what quarrel?  old Hard. 
I had small leisure to importune that, only this much I learned, the man that's dead was great in fault, and he that now survives, subject unto the danger of this search, bore himself fairly, and his fortune being to kill a man Allied to Noble men, and greatly friended: is much pitied. But Law must have his course.  Anne. 
If this be true.  
I thank my fate, and bless this happy hour  
To save a life within Laws griping power.  old Hard. 
Come then the morning's bleak, and sharp the Air  
Into the fire my girl, there's wholesome heat:  
I'll in and see my servants set at meat.  Anne. 
Sir, I'll but end this flower and follow you, I this should be some bloody murderer, great were my guilt to shroud him from the Law; but if a gentleman by fortune crossed, 'tis pity one so valiant and so young should be given up into his enemy's hands, whilst greatness may perhaps weigh down his cause and balance him to death, who thus escaping may when he hath, by means obtain his peace, Redeem his desperate fortunes, and make good th' forfeit made unto th' offended  
Law prove as Heaven shall direct, I'll do my best,  
'tis charity to succour the distressed. Ent. Forrest above.  young For. 
Fair Mistress, are they gone, may I descend?  Anne. 
No safety lives abroad, then pray forbear.  
To speak of scaping hence,  young For. 
Oh but I fear  Anne. 
My life for yours.  young For. 
However poor I fare  
May you of this your charitable care  
Taste happy fruit.  Anne. 
You did not kill him foully.  young For. 
No I protest.  Anne. 
Nor willingly.  young For. 
I willingly fought with him, but unwillingly  
Did I become his death's man.  Anne. 
Could you now wish him alive again.  young For. 
With his hands loose, and yet he slew my brother.  Anne. 
Heaven hath sent this gentleman because he's penitent, to me for succour, therefore till the violence of all his search be passed, I'll shroud him here, and bring you meat and wine to comfort you, free I protest from all unchaste pretence, till by some means I may convey you hence.  young For. 
The life you saw if I o'ercome this plunge shall be for ever yours, all my endeavours to your devoted service I will store, and carefully hoard up.  Anne: 
Sir, now no more. Exeunt.    

Act. 3.  

Scen. 1.  Enter Philip and Clown. Clown 
COme good fellow Phil, what nothing but mourning and mowing, thy melancholy makes our teems to veil their foretops, and all our Jades crest fallen, and to see thee wail in woe in the deep cart roots up to the bellies plunge in pain: my Mistress Susan she's in the same pitiful pickle too.  Phil. 
Oh if this hand could execute for her all that my cruel father hath imposed, my toil would seem a pleasure, labour ease.  Clow. 
Ease, what's that? there's little to be found in our house, now we have loosed the plough in the fields, they'll find work enough about home to keep us from the scurvy. Your hat Phil, see here comes our Mistress.  Enter Mrs. Anne with Bread and a Bottle. Anne: 
The place is clear, none sees me, now's the time to bear my sorrowful charge bread, meat, and wine: these six days I have kept him undiscovered, neither my husbands, nor my servants eyes have any way discovered him. How now fellows, whither so fast this way?  Clown 
Nay we do not use to go too fast for falling: our business at this present is about a little household service.  Anne 
What business have you this way?  Clown 
We are going, as they say, to remove, or according to the vulgar, to make clean, where Chanticleer and Damepartlet the hen have had some doings.  Anne 
What dost thou mean by that?  Phil. 
By my Master's appointment, I must not say my Fathers, he hath commanded us first to make clean this hen-roost, and after to remove the hay out of that hayloft.  Ann 
Oh me, I fear the Gentleman's betrayed, what shift shall I devise.  Clow. 
By your leave Mistress, pray let's come by you.  Anne. 
Well double diligence your labour's saved, 'tis done already, go and take your pleasure. Son Philip, when I hear my Husband speak of such a base employment, I straight hired a labourer to prevent it, and 'tis done.  Phil. 
You are kinder Mother than my Father cruel, and save me many a toil and tedious travail imposed on me by your husband.  Anne 
o'er this place, I'll bear a jealous and a watchful eye to prevent this discovery; and will you be gone?  Clow. 
Yes sweet Mistress, if you would but give a wink, a word to the dairy maid for a mess of cream betwixt my fellow Philip and I, It's good to be doing something, for you know my Master does not love we should be idle.  Anne 
Well Sir, perhaps I shall remember you.  Clow. 
Come Phil let's be gone, and if you chance to blush at what my Mistress hath promised, I'll tell you who cast milk in your face.  Exeunt. Anne 
Shall I compare his present misery with the Enter Susan with something in her Apron .misfortunes of this Gentleman, which might I reckon greater, but leave them;  
And to my charge we all must yield to fate  
He casts us down that best can raise our state.  Sus. 
Oh through what greater plunges can I pass than I have done already; A father's penury, the good old man dejected and cast down, my Husband even swept from the family where he was born, quite forsook by him, by whom he should be fostered, made a servant  
Amongst his servants, and his brother's scorn,  
These mischiefs make me wish myself unborn.  Anne. 
Again prevented.  Sus 
How hath this meditation drawn my thoughts from my intended business I forgot what I was sent about? my Master bade me scatter this Wheat and Barley 'mongst the hens, and I will soon dispatch it.  An. 
What makes thee so near the place that I so strictly guard, what business have you there?  Sus. 
Forsooth my Master bade me go serve the poultry.  Anne 
Come you shall not, for this time I'll do't for you.  Sus. 
Mother and Mistress too, 'tis courtesy in you to proffer it, but should I suffer, you might hold it justly in me small manners.  Anne 
I say it shall be so.  Sus. 
Shall any servant stand still and see her Mistress do her work pray pardon me, I should condemn myself beyond imagination: I shall I stand idly and see the work done by your hand?  Anne 
I say I will.  Sus. 
My words dare not say nay,  
But my more forward action brooks no stay.  Anne 
Then doubtless he's betrayed.  Sus. 
Oh me what's here? why here's one that's come to steal your hens, a thief who'll filch your poultry.  Anne 
'Tis not so.  Sus. 
Shall I cry thieves aloud [Forrest leaps down.]  Anne 
For heaven's sake no.  young Forr. 
Betray then hapless Forest, once more I lie  
Ordained for pity, or prepared to die.  
What none but women and betray me? than  
I see your hearts are flintier far than men.  Anne 
Think not that I'll betray you, nor shall she, if she respect my love or her own life.  Sus. 
Betray my brother? it shall ne'er be said I stopped his flight when he had means to scape.  young Forr. 
Oh fortune beyond hope amazed I stand  
To see my life laid in my sister's hand.  Sus. 
Dear brother.  young Forr. 
My sweet sister.  Anne 
A strange greeting,  
And twixt two hapless creatures happy meeting.  young Forr. 
What change hath brought you to this downcast state?  Sus. 
Nay what mishap hath ruinated you?  Anne 
You both forget your dangers, then leave off these passive fits, and study for the safety of this distressed Gentleman your brother, now in the ruthless mercy of the Law.  young Forr. 
Sister you have heard my fortunes.  Sus. 
With sad cheer, little surmising you had laid so near, dear. Mother let us crave your farther assistance in furthering his escape.  Anne 
I am all yours.  young Forr. 
My safety lies in sudden expedition, debar me I am dead.  Anne 
I ha' a brother lives at Gravesend an Owner and a Merchant, and could we but convey you safe to him; he soon would ship you over into France.  young Forr. 
All ways are loud, and hue and cry sent forth through every hundred, how shall I reach thither without discovery?  Sus. 
Here stands an empty trunk in the next room, which should be sent by water to Gravesend to your brother, what if we should lock him fast in that?  Anne 
I like it well, but whom shall we employ to bear it safe?  Sus. 
Give it my husband and your man in charge, they two will see it carefully delivered.  Anne 
By them I'll write unto him earnestly in your behalf, and doubt not of your usage.  young Forr. 
The trunk, the trunk, Oh quickly, if you love me.  Anne 
Come I'll to write.  Sus. 
I'll find those that shall bear it.  young Forr. 
The plot is likely, but heaven knows I fear it. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Harding, John, and William. old Hard. 
Now boys no question but you think it long to have my state made over to your use.  Iohn 
Oh Lord Sir.  old Hard 
To have your eldest brother quite disabled of any challenge of inheritance.  Will. 
We think it not long Sir, but if you should use all expedition possible, I should say beshrew their hearts that would hinder it, we do not wish our brother disinherited, but if it be your pleasure, Heaven forbid that we being your sons should any way contradict it.  john 
We should not show ourselves obedient sons to persuade you to infringe your former vow; For, Father if you remember you swore long since to do it; And heaven forbid you should break your oath.  Old Hard. 
boys of mine own free spirit, mine one heart, and will you see him pine, beg, starve, nay perish ere you will once relieve him.  Will 
I'll be your will, we'll swear to do it.  Old Hard 
And though the beggar's brat, his Wife I mean, should for the want of lodging sleep on stalls or lodge in stocks or cages, would your charities take her to better harbour?  john 
Unless too cold harbour where of twenty chimneys standing, you shall scarce in a whole winter see two smoking; we harbour her? Bridewell shall first.  Old Hard. 
Lads of my own condition, my own humour, call me a Scrivener, reach me pen and ink I'll do't immediately.  Will. 
Run for a Scrivener jack. Enter Mr. Anne meeting them.  john. 
Mean time post thou for Pen and Ink.  Anne 
Stay no such haste, sweet husband there be fitter times than these made choice for such affairs, there's no enforcement to make your Will, being in such perfect health; pray if you love me do not talk of death, nor to your safety give such ill presage, besides this expedition in your sons, shows that they covet more your Lands then life; defer't then somewhat longer for my sake.  Old Hard. 
Then for thy sake I will, but my kind boys 'tis rather to soothe her, than your least wrong, I will delay a little though not long.  Will. 
It hath been long a doing, I would it were once done, if he should peak over the perch now, and all fall to our elder Brother, we have used him so doggedly, the least he can do is to thrust us out of doors by head and shoulders.  john. 
Let him alone now, we'll urge him too't at more convenient leisure.  Old Hard. 
When heard you from your brother at Gravesend, or how falls out his voyage, can you tell.  Anne 
I had a letter from him two days since, in which he writes me all his goods are Shipped, his wares in hold well stowed, and nothing wants save a fair gale to bring him to the Straits.  Old Hard. 
Heaven make his voyage prosperous, for thou knowest I have a venture of five hundred pound interred with him, my fortune joins with his; If he succeed it falls out well with me, if not, I am likely to impart his loss.  Enter Old Mr. Forrest. Old Forr. 
You are well found Sir.  Old Hard. 
I what art thou fellow.  Old Forr. 
You knew me in my pride and flourishing state, have you forgot me now, as I remember we two were bred together, School fellows, boarded together in one Master's house, both of one form and like degree in School.  Old Hard. 
Oh thy name's Forest.  Old Forr. 
Then in those days your Father Mr. Harding was a good honest Farmer, tenant too unto my Father. All the wealth he purchased, far be upbraiding from me, came from us as your first raiser; and you called me then your Landlord and young Master: then was then, but now the course of fortune's wheel is turned; you climbed, we fell, and that inconstant fate that hurled us down, hath lift you where we sat.  Old Hard. 
Well, we are Lord of all those Manors now, you then possessed. Have we not bought them dearly? Are they not ours?  Old Forr 
I no way can deny't, I rather come as a poor suitor to you, to entreat you for heaven's sake and charities, to pity my lost daughter, your cast son. Sir, I in all had but three Children left me, Crutches to bear up my penurious age; one of these three was butchered cruelly, his body piteously, alas pierced through. Then had I but two left, my eldest Son, and he's or dead, or fled to save his life; If he still live, I have wasted, sell and spent even all that little that my fortunes left; and now I have but one, one only daughter, and her I am not able to relieve with aught save tears and pity, to these helps oh send your fair assistance; she's yours as well as mine.  Old Hard 
All my part I disclaim, both in my son and her; they crossed my pleasure, and they shall taste the smart, I was derided,  
They that love me, shall by my will be guided.  Will. 
And that am I.  john. 
And I too Father.  Anne 
Base Parasites.  Old Hard. 
You even pleased me well,  
And you shall mount the height from which they fell.  Enter Philip and Susan. Old harr 
See, see, alas those that seven Somers since saw thy estate and look upon thee now, would at lest pity, if not help thy wants; how happy was thy Mother and my Wife, that slept their last sleep long before these sorrows take their birth.  Sus 
Dear father succour us, help to redeem us from this cruel man that thus insults upon our miseries.  Old Forr 
Fair daughter add not to my tedious woes, thou bidst a blind man guided thou on thy way, and takest a broken staff to be thy stay.  Phil. 
Good Sir release us.  Old For 
It must be then with tears, for other help I have none, and they heaven knows can little ease, but never help your woes. Sir, if your heart be not of Adamant, or some hard metal that's impermeable, pity your blood and mine, so soon grown deaf. Kind Gentlemen, speak to your wrathless Father, show yourselves brothers, do you turn aside. Fair Mistress what say you, I see your eyes in all things with our passions sympathize, and you are doubtless sprung from Gentle blood:  
Gentry and baseness in all age's jar,  
And poverty and wealth are still at war.  Old Hard, 
Thou growest too tedious, prithee friend be gone.  Old For. 
I hope you do not scorn me.  Old Hard. 
The truth is, I feign would have thee leave me.  Old Forr. 
'Tis no disparagement unto your birth, that you converse with me, if I mistake not, sure, sure I am as well born.  Old Hard. 
And yet sure, sure, 'tis ten to one I shall be better buried.  Old For. 
I am as honest.  Old Hard. 
Nay there you are a ground.  
I am honester by twenty thousand pound.  Old For. 
Are all such honest then that riches have.  Old Hard. 
Yes rich and good, a poor man and a knave. Away about thy business, loiter not about my gates, I shall compel thee else, for thy request my will is peremptory, thy softness makes me much more violent, whom thou the more commisseratest I contemn, they are in my deepest hate: Wife, Sons, let's go.  Old For. 
With eyes in tears sunk, heart circumvolved in woe.  Sus. 
What shall we now do?  Phil 
What? but endure the worst, when comfort's banished, welcome all extremes, yet I have sent my fellow, or my man to prove some friends to help to stock a Farm, I have not yet their answer, 'tis the last of all our hopes, that failing we have run our latest course, outcast, end quite undone. Exeunt.  Enter the Merchant reading a Letter, and after him young Mr. Forrest. Merch 
My Sister writes how your occasions stand, and how you are to use my secrecy in a strange business that concerns your life. She hath left nothing unremembered here, or slightly urged to make me provident and careful of your safety: gentle Sir, though I am a stranger to your fortunes, yet for her sake whose love I tender dearly, I am-all yours, my house to entertain you, my purse to furnish you in any course, my Ship if you'll to Sea, is at your service, make choice in which of these, in all, or any you will employ my faithful industry.  Young Forr. 
Oh Sir your unexpected courtesy to a poor stranger, challenges the name of brother to the kindest Gentlewoman that ever breathed this air, you cannot choose but be of one strain that such kindness use; you bade me to make choice of all your favours, my poverty and my necessity do both of them in my extremes conserve to make me think the meanest of any means that can unplunge me from this gulf of trouble, to be much better than I can deserve, to be much greater than I dare desire, being too poor to merit, too dejected to aim at any hopes.  Merch 
You wrong your worth, you have desert sufficient, that she writes in your behalf, and I commend her for't, methinks I see such honest parts in you, that upon weaker urgence than these lines, I would build much affection on these gifts that I see nature hath endowed you with, indeed I flatter not, none flatter those they do not mean to gain by, 'tis the guise of sycophants, such great men to adore by whom they mean to rise disdain the poor; my object is much otherwise intended, I fain would lose by him whom I commended.  Young Forr. 
If ever this my weak ability grow strong again, I will employ it solely to shun the base sin of ingratitude towards you and your fair sister.  Merch. 
Will you use me?  Young Forr. 
But what shall I return you in exchange of those great favours.  Merch. 
Come your love, your love, 'tis more than all I can attempt for you amounts unto, pray let me know the most of my employment.  Young Forr. 
Then will you but provide me a safe waftage over to France, to Flanders, or to Spain or any foreign coast; I dare not trust my native country with my forfeit life. Sir, this is all I would entreat of you.  Merch. 
You're modest in your suit, the more you use me, the more I think you love me, therefore this night I'll get you waftage o'er for France, such Sea apparel as I use myself, you shall accept part, here's ten pounds in gold, and wheresoever you shall live hereafter, pray let me once a year receive from you some brief or note I'll not return your love idle or empty handed.  Young Forr. 
My life's yours, and lesser satisfaction than my life is much too little.  Merch. 
Much too much, no more, no more I do entreat you, I am now upon a voyage to the Straits myself, but 'twill be two days hence.  Young For. 
Heaven be your guide, as I find you, so find friends in your need, blushing I run into your countless debts, more sums of love then all my hoard can pay, but if these black adventures I survive,  
even till this mortal body lie engraved,  
You shall be Lord of that which you have saved  Merch. 
Only your love, come we'll provide this night  
For you safe waftage, and your secret flight. Exeunt   

Scen. 4.  Enter Clown, Foster, Goodwin, and a Gentleman. Fost. 
Speak with us, why what's the business?  Clow. 
Nay, that's more than I can resolve you upon the sudden, it may be there's some great fortune fallen to him of late, and he would impart the benefit to you.  Goodw. 
Nay then let's go, where shall we find him?  Clow. 
A word to the wise, it may be that he's in some monstrous extreme necessity, and would gladly borrow some money of you, or so.  Goodw. 
ay, saidst thou so? now I remember me, I needs must home, I have some business, I'll see him at some other time.  Clow. 
Nay but one word more.  Fost. 
We cannot stay now.  Gent. 
Nor I, a great occasion calls me hence.  Clow. 
Nay then I see you are apt to take a man at the worst still, if you knew what little need he hath to borrow, borrow quoth he, a good jest, you know he and I, my fellow Phil and I 'mongst other works that my Master uses to put us to, we use to dig and delve; now if we have found a pot a money, and would trust you with the laying of it out, why so?  Fost. 
How?  Clown 
Marry even so, you know his Father is such a dogged old curmudgeon, he dares not for his ear acquaint him with.  Gent. 
Prithee go on.  Clow. 
'Twere kindness in him to choose you out of all the friends he hath in the world to impart this benefit to, were't not? and say true.  Gent 
Troth he was always a kind honest youth, and would it lay in me to pleasure him.  Goodw. 
Introth or me, he should command my purse and credit both.  Fost. 
Where might we speak with him;  Clow. 
Hard by Sir, hard by, but stay Gentlemen, suppose there is no such matter as finding of money, but what we missed in digging to supply his present necessities he hopes to find from you, I promise you I partly doubt such a matter.  Fost. 
How I forgot myself, I needs must home.  Goodw. 
Troth nor can I stay.  Gent. 
In sooth nor I. Ent. Philip meeting them.  Phil. 
Gentlemen whither so fast, I sent to speak with you.  Clow. 
I can assure you Sir, they are better to speak withal then to borrow money of, one word or two with you my friends (by your leave Master) Gentlemen I love you well, and that you may know I love you, I would make bold to reveal a secret to you, my young Master here, though you see him in these homely Accoutrements, simple as you stand here, he has more to take to then I'll speak of, he might, I marry might he, he might go brave and shine in pearl and gold; he hath now in his instant possession a thousand pound thick.  Fost. 
A thousand pounds?  Clow. 
Nay old lads, he hath learned his 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5. And never cost him ten shillings.  Goodw. 
Five thousand pound?  Clow. 
You know where you hear it, Mum, here's your tale and your tale's Man.  Gent. 
Good, good, proceed.  Clow. 
Now lift up your large ears and listen; to whom should he reveal all this wealth, but to some friend? and how should he know a friend but by trying of him; and how should he try a friend but by troubling of him? and how should he trouble a friend but by borrowing money of him? now Gentlemen it may be at first he'll make his case poor and pitiful to you.  Fost. 
Only to try us.  Clow. 
Only to try you, have you no brains? do you think we have need of money? has any of you occasion to use a hundred pound? need of money, as I said afore, so I say again, only to try you, be has done the like to four or five that I know; now because they would not pity his supposed poverty, he would not acquaint them with this infinite mass of wealth; you have wits, brains, apprehension, if he makes his case known to you lay it on, if I said lay it on, lay it on, you are not everybody, if I had not seen some sparks in you, you had not been the men, lay it on.  Fost. 
Enough, enough, I understand thee fully, kind Master Philip will you use my aid in my fair employment.  Goodw 
Sir or mine.  Gent. 
Or mine.  Phil. 
Worthy friends, even one as all freely to speak, as you are Gentlemen, and I from my childhood have protested love, as you are Christians'; therefore to the poor, such as I am, should be most charitable, help with your plenty to relieve my wants, you know my labour, and have seen my need, then take some pity of my poor estate, and help to ransom me from slavery, by lending me some money.  Clow. 
Did I not tell you so? Lay it on.  Fost 
Sir you shall have a hundred pound of me.  Goodw. 
What need you use him and myself so near.  Gent. 
Trouble not them Sir, you shall hate of me:  Clow. 
Take't Master, take't all.  Phil. 
Oh Heavens! where slept this friendship all this while? who said that charity was fled to heaven, and had no known abiding here on earth; see these that know me disinherited, and to have no means to supply my wants, strive who should most engage his purse and credit to one so much oppressed with poverty.  Clow. 
Alas sir, you see their kindness, I told you how strange he would make it; Lay it on.  Fost. 
Pray Sir accept my kindness,  Gent. Goodw. 
Pray take mine.  Clow. 
Pray Master take their courtesies.  Phil. 
I'll use them all, and only borrow twenty pounds a piece to stock a poor farm for my wife and me, some threescore pounds will do't.  Clow. 
Now, now, lay it on.  Gent. 
Take it all of me.  Goodw. 
Why all of you Sir, is not mine as ready?  Fost. 
When one can do't, what need you trouble three? but for the thousand pound Sir, do not think but you may trust me with the whole employment of all such moneys, and never trouble these.  Phil. 
What thousand pound?  Goodw. 
Though it be six thousand I durst be steward of so great a sum.  Clow. 
Why Master Fellow Phil?  Phil. 
Do you mock me Gentlemen, my wealth amounts not to a thousand straws.  Clow. 
I told you he would make it strange; lay it on.  Fost. 
Make not your wealth so dainty, for we know you have at least six thousand pound in bank, you may impart it unto us your friends.  Phil. 
Who hath deluded you, derided me, and make a mockery of my poor estate, now I protest I have not in the world more riches than these garments on my back.  Goodw, 
If possible, why here's my tale and my tale's man.  Clow. 
No Sir you are deceived, here is your tale and you yourself are your tales man, for you carry it about you; the truth is Gentlemen that we have betwixt us both no more crosses than you see.  Phil. 
Only the late hope of those sixty pounds promised by you unurged and uncompelled may raise my ruined fortunes.  Gent. 
Will you disbursed it all that were so forward?  Fost. 
I have no money, do it you for me.  Goodw. 
It is but one man's labour do't yourself, if you have none I have less, God be with you, one stays for me at home.  Gent. 
Nay take me with you Sir:  Phil. 
Why Gentlemen will you revault your words.  Fost. 
I have no money.  Phil. 
But now you strived which man should lend me most.  Fost. 
But then we reckoned Sir without our host,  
Than we supposed you rich, but being grown poor,  
I have made a foolish vow to lend no more. Exit.  Gent. 
I have made the like, you know your father threatens  
To disinherit you, and should we lend,  
You being poor, should of our purses spend. Exit.  Phil. 
Though I be poor, heaven may enable me.  Goodw. 
Heaven may do much that's all the beggars saying,  
Let me hoard wealth, you seek for wealth by praying. Exit.  Phil. 
The time may come ere long, so I divine  
To punish those that at their power repine. Exit.  Enter a Pursuivant meeting the Clown. Pursev. 
Whither away so fast sirrah in the Queen's name, I command you stay,  Clow. 
What are you that look so big?  Pursev. 
A Pursuivant.  Clow. 
If you be so pursy, can you lend's any money, I assure you it was the last business we were about; or else tell me the reason why you stay my passage.  Pursev 
Sirrah I have a Proclamation to publish, and because myself am somewhat hoarse, and thou hast a large wide mouth, and a laudable voice I charge thee for the better understanding of the multitude to speak after me word by word.  Clow. 
If it be nothing else, do but advance me and I'll speak high enough, come now, and teach me my new lesson.  Pursev 
Whereas two famous Rovers on the Sea.  Clow. 
Whereas two famous Rogues upon the Sea.  Pursev 
Purser and Clinton:  Clow 
That lost their purses at the Clink.  Purs. 
Long since proclaimed Pirates.  Clown 
Long since proclaimed pirates.  Purs: 
Notwithstanding her Majesty's commission.  Clown 
Notwithstanding her Majesty's condition.  Pur: 
Still keep out.  Clown 
And will not come in.  Pur: 
And have of late spoiled a Ship of Exeter.  Clown 
And have of late spoiled all the sheep in the Exchequer.  Pur: 
And thrown the chief Merchant over board.  Clow. 
And thrown the Merchants cheeses overboard.  Purs: 
I therefore in her Majesty's name.  Clown 
I therefore in the name of her Majesty.  Purs: 
Proclaim to him or them.  Clown 
Proclaim to them or him.  Pur: 
That can bring in these Pirates Ships or Heads.  Clown 
That can bring in these Piecrusts or Sheeps-heads.  Pur: 
A thousand pound sterling.  Clown 
A thousand Stares and Starlings.  Pur: 
If a banished man his country.  Clown 
If a man he shall be banished his country.  Pur: 
If a condemned man liberty.  Clown 
I a man at liberty condemned.  Pur: 
Besides her Majesty's especial favour.  Clown 
Besides her Majesty's spectacles and favour.  Pur: 
And so God save the Queen.  Clown 
And have you done now Sir?  Pur: 
I have, farewell.  Clown 
Farewell Mr. Pursuivant: he hath so filled my head with proclamations. Exit.    

Act. 4.  

Scen. 1.  A great Alarum and shot: enter Purser and Clinton, with store of Mariners, bringing in the Merchant bound prisoner with others. Pur. 
NOw valiant mates you have maintained this fight with courage and with wonted hardiment: the spoil of this rich ship we will divide in equal shares, and not the meanest of any, but by the custom of the sea may challenge according to his place, rights in the spoil: though Outlaws, we keep laws amongst ourselves, else we could have no certain government.  Clint: 
A gallant prize, and bravely purchased too, with loss of blood on both sides. A sea fight was never better managed nor exploited with more exchange of hostile opposition, we did not look for such a valiant spirit in any Merchant's breast; nor did we think a ship of such small burden, so weakly maned, would have endured so hot and proud a fight.  Mer: 
Nor did I think the providence of heaven would so have favoured men of base condition, such as profess wrong, piracy and theft, have spoiled my men, and ransacked every corner of my surprised bark; seized all my substance, and shared amongst you my best merchandise; and not alone undone me, and in me all that are mine, but in overwhelming us shook the estate of all my creditors.  Pur: 
What's that to us? men of our known condition must cast behind our hacks all such respects, we left our consciences upon the land when we began to rob upon the sea.  Clin: 
We know we are Pirates, and profess to rob, and wouldst not have us freely use our trade? If thou and thine be quite undone by us, we made by thee, impute it to thy fortune, and not to any injury in us;  
For he that's born to be a beggar know  
howe'er he toils and trafficks must die so.  Mer: 
If you must needs possess this thriving trade, yet since the seas afford such choice of store, you might methinks have spared your own countrymen.  Pur: 
Nay since our country have proclaimed us pirates, and cut us off from any claim in England, we'll be no longer now called English men.  Mer: 
Clinton I know thee, and have used thy skill, ere now in a good vessel of my own, before thou tookest this desperate course of life, perhaps if now thou dost me a good office, time may enable me to quit thy love.  Clin: 
Troth I could wish we had light of any other, but since thy fate hath cast thee upon us, we must neglect no opportunity; for they that intermit advantages, must know occasions head is bald behind. My merry mates come top your cans apace, pile up your chests with prizes to the lids, and stuff the vast hold of our empty ship with such rich wares as this our prize affords; supple your biscuits with such choice of wines  
As freely come brought by th' auspicious winds  
To unlade themselves and seek for stowage here;  
Since wine comes freely let's make spare of beer.  Pur. 
Let cans of wine pass round in healths through all, such golden prizes come not every day, nor can we always meet such choice of spoils: First bind the Merchant, lay him fast in hold, and having seized all his best Merchandise, pierce with your ordnance through his ships crazed keel, and sink her down into the deep abyss, whence not all the Cranes in Europe or the world can weigh her out again.  Clin. 
Let it be so, Lest she prove prize unto a second foe.  Mer. 
Be't as my fate shall please, my loss I value but as goods lent me, now to be paid back, but that which most afflicts my sorrowful soul, is that my friends have ventured largely with me, especially my Sister, who I fear will brook that ill which I with patience bear.  Pur. 
Place him below the hatches as our prisoner, and now to part our purchase bravely won, even with the hazard of our dearest lives.  Clin. 
The danger passed still makes the purchase sweet. Come first drink round my merry mates, that done, divide in peace what we by war have won. Exeunt  Enter young Mr. Forrest, like a Captain of a ship, with Sailors and Mariners, entering with a flourish. young For: 
Gentlemen, and my merry mates at sea, those special savours you have crowned me with, can never be deserved upon my part, so weak is my ability and knowledge in navigation and exploits at sea; yet since your loves so far exceeds my worth, that of an unexperienced Gentleman you have preferred me above many other, to be your Captain, and command your Ship, I hope to bear myself so even and upright in this my charge, that it shall not repent you of the least honour to my grace decreed.  1. Mar. 
Our Captain being lately slain in fight, we by your valour scaped our enemies, and made their ship our prize, since we first knew you all our attempts succeeded prosperously, and heaven hath better blessed us for your sake.  2. Mar. 
When first we took you to our fellowship, we had a poor bark of some fifteen tun, and that was all our riches, but since then we have took many a rich prize from Spain, and got a gallant vessel stoutly maned, and well provided of Ordnance and small shot, men and ammunition, that we now dare cope with any carack that does trade for Spain.  young For. 
We dare do any thing that stands with justice, our country's honour, and the reputation of our own names; but amongst all our spoils I wonder we have scaped the valiant Pirates that are so much renowned upon the sea, that were a conquest worth the hazarding, besides a thousand pounds' reward proposed to that adventurer that can bring them in, my peace and pardon though a man condemned, is by the proclamation ratified.  1. Mar. 
The ocean scarce can bear their outrages, they are so violent, confounding all, and sparing none, not their own countrymen, we could not do our country greater service than in their pursuit to engage our lives.  young For. 
I could we meet those Rovers on the sea, so famous for their piracies and thefts, so feared of all that trade for Merchandise, so proud of their strong vessels and stout ging, that man her with their proud Artillery that thunders wrack to every ship alike; oh with what ardour and inflamed desire would we in the mid sea encounter them! Climb to the main-top, boy, see what you ken there.  Boy. 
I shall, I shall Sir.  young For. 
We seek for purchase, but we take't from foes, and such is held amongst us lawful spoil; but such as are our friends & countrymen we succour with the best supply we have of victuals or munition being distressed.  Above, Boy. 
Ho there.  1. Mar. 
Ha boy.  Boy. 
A sail.  1. Mar. 
Whence is she?  Boy. 
That I cannot ken; she appears to me out of our hemisphere no bigger than a Crow.  young For: 
Descry her better, oh that it were the desperate Pirates Ship, on that condition we might grapple straight, and try our desperate fortunes on even change, but I that have been born to misery can never be so happy; oh my fate when shall I pass away this tedious night,  
Or when my stars will you burn out more bright.  Boy. 
Boatswain, ho.  1. Mar. 
Whence comes thy ken?  Boy. 
She makes from South to West.  2. Mar. 
How bears she?  Boy. 
To the Leeward.  young For. 
Clap on more sails and quickly fetch her up. What colours bears her main-top?  Boy. 
She's not so near in ken.  young For. 
Discover her more amply, now my mates prepare yourselves, for it may be some prize; you Master Gunner load your ordnance well, and look well to your cartridges and fire; see that your gunner room be clear and free, your matches bear good coals, your priming powder pounded, not dank; next charge your Murderers for fear of boarding: steersman part the Helm, and bear up towards them, be they friends or foes we'll hale them if heaven please; and Master you heed well your compass, Boatswain with your whistle command the Sailors to the upper deck to know their quarters, and to hear their charge.  Boy. 
Captain, ho.  young For. 
The news? whence is her flag?  Boy. 
She bears the Cross of England and St. George.  young For: 
Then she's a friend for England, and St. George our gallant vessel in her main-top bears, and all our preparations needless then.  Boy. 
Arm rather, for I see them from afar make all provision for a present fight, they have managed their hatches, hung their pendants out, displayed their Ensigns, up with all their fights, their matches in their cocks, their smoking Linstocks are likewise fired within their Gunners hands; and hark they shoot already. A piece goes off.  young For: 
Come descend; the Pirate, Fortune thou art then my friend. Now valiant friends and soldier's man the deck, draw up your fights, and lace your drablers on, whilst myself make good the Forecastle, and ply my Musket in the front of death, quarter yourselves in order, some abaft, some in the Ships waste, all in martial order; our Spright-sail Top sail, and Top-gallant, our Mainsail, Boar-spright, and our Mizzen too are hung with waving pendants, and the colours of England and St. Georg ply in the Stern. We fight against the foe we all desire,  
Alarum Trumpets, Gunner straight give fire. Exeunt.  Alarm. Purser and Clinton with their Mariners, all furnished with Sea devices fitting for a fight. Clin. 
Give them a full broadside; oh Mr. Gunner your upper tire of Ordnance shot over; you gave not one shot betwixt wind and water in all this skirmish.  Gun. 
Sir, you speak not well, I pierced them with my chase piece through and through; part of their Capstring too I with a Piece abaft shot overboard.  Pur. 
Oh 'twas a gallant shot, I saw it shatter some of their limbs in pieces: Shall we grapple, and lay their Ship aboard? where be these Irons to hook 'em fast?  Clin. 
I fear they're too well maned; for see the Gunner ready to give fire unto their Murderers if we stay to board 'em: Shall we set sail and leave 'em.  Pur. 
How can we when our Ship has sprung a leak? being ready now to founder in the sea; some ply the Pump: oh for one lucky bullet to take their Mainmast off; he that can make it shall have a treble share in this next prize.  Gun. 
I shall go near it from my lower tire.  Clin. 
Gunner do that, 'tis all that we desire. Exeunt.  Alarum: Enter young Forrest and his Mariners. 1. Mar. 
Where is the Gunner Captain?  young For. 
Where he should not be, at his prayers I think: Is this a time to pray, when the Sea's mouth seems to spit fire, and all the billows burn. Come hand with me, and we will board the Pirates instantly.  1. Mar. 
hoist up more sails, and fetch 'em roundly up, and with their gallant vessel grapple straight.  young For. 
I spy the Pirates in the very prow and forehead of their Ship, both wafting us with their bright swords: now Steersman take thy turn; and Boatswain with your baser trumpets sound mingle your whistles shrill, oh 'tis a Music the mermaids love.  1. Mar. 
Who hates it that's a soldier?  2. Mar. 
Thy Linstock Gunner, take thy level right,  
The wind is ours to help us in the fight.  young For. 
It blows a stiff gale, it makes all for us, every Commander once more to his charge, he that this day shall die dies honourably; the cannons Basilisks, and Ordnance shall toll his funeral peal, and some now sound, shall die three deaths in one, shot, burnt, and drowned.  
Come spare no powder till you see our Ship,  
Whose hard tough ribs hewed from the heart of oak,  
Now black with pitch be painted blue with smoke. Exeunt.  A great Alarum, and Flourish. Enter young Forest and his Mates with Purser and Clinton with their Mariners prisoners. young For. 
First thanks to heaven for this great victory bought with the fearful hazard of our lives, and large expense of blood on either part.  Pur. 
We now are captives that made others' thrall,  
Thus ebbs may flow, and highest tides may fall.  Clin. 
The latest day must come to have his date;  
Stars govern all, and none can change his fate.  young For. 
Such prisoners as these Pirates keep in hold, release them straight, the riches of their ship we 'mongst you will divide in equal shares, to every man's desert, estate, and place.  Pur. 
Fortune I spit defiance in thy face: Thy best we have tasted, an thy worst we know, we can but pay what we to nature owe.  Enter the Merchant brought in with other Prisoners. Mer. 
Surprised again, whose prisoner am I now? I am Fortune's ball, whither am I bandied, having lost all before, is't possible that I can now be made a second prize? I lost my wealth in my first hostile strife,  
And nothing now is left me save my life.  young For. 
These prisoners we will at our further leisure peruse and know their fortunes and estates.  Mer. 
That captain I should know, that face of his is with mine eye familiar, sure 'tis he whose life I by my sister's means preserved, with money and apparel furnished him, and got him place at sea and hath he now forgot me, what not know me, the world right, when rich we honour, being poor we spite: ne'er look so strange, I do not mean to claim acquaintance of such men as are ingrate: All my good deeds once done I throw behind, whose meed in heaven, not earth I look to find.  young For. 
That Merchant I have known, and now I better survey him, 'tis the man to whom I owe all that I have, my fortunes, nay my life; what reason have you Sir to fly me so, since unto you, and to my brother's wife, my hopes, my power, my whole estate is due,  
From whom my means and all my fortunes grew.  Mer 
Do you know me then.  young For. 
Think you I can forget, or slightly cancel such a countless debt, behold my ship, my conquest, and my prize, these prisoners with my full command is yours;  
Yours, only yours, they at your service rest,  
Alas dear friend how came you thus distressed?  Mer: 
These Pirates robbed me, and have seized my goods with which they have stuffed their hold; my brother's venture with mine own substance they have made their spoil.  young For. 
All which behold I redeliver you, and to the utmost farthing will restore; besides I make you partner in our prize, and herein am I only fortunate to prove a grateful debtor.  Mer. 
Your gratitude exceeds all courtesy, both of my sister's party and my own.  young For. 
It comes much short of either; oh dear Sir should I forget your friendship showed in want, and done in my extremest poverty, it were a sin, of heaven unpardonable; this pirate's Ship load with your merchandise you shall straight man for England; where arrived, commend me to the mirror of her sex, your Sister, in the humblest phrase you can, to whom deliver, as from me, this jewel, the best our voyage yields; tell her from me, that Gentleman whose innocent life she saved, hath by that token her remembrance craved, to my brother, and my Sister this small sum to buy their service from their father's hand, and free them from his slavish servitude.  Mer. 
I shall do all your will, and thus overswayed,  
Needs must report your debts are doubly paid.  young For. 
Having my pardon purchased, and my prisoners delivered to the sentence of the Law, my next affairs shall be to visit her.  Purs. 
Our case is otherwise, our next affairs  
Is to betake us to our Beads and Prayers.  Clin. 
Be as be may, base fortune I defy,  
We bravely lived and I'll as boldly die.  young For. 
hoist sail for England with our long wished prize,  
Whilst we applaud that fortune he defies. Exe.  Enter old Mr. Harding, Anne his wife, Foster and Goodwin, William and John, Philip and Susan's setting forth a Table. old Hard. 
You're welcome Gentlemen, come take your places as your degrees are: wife the chair is yours; my loving boys sit, let th' servants wait.  Ioh. 
Brother, that's you.  old Hard. 
This day I do entreat you Gentlemen after the Tables ended, to be witness unto some deeds that must inherit these, and him that is my eldest quite disable, to which I must entreat your friendly hands.  Fost. 
Mine still is at your service.  Goodw. 
So is mine Sir.  Will. 
O day long looked for.  Ioh. 
Now shall we live like two young Emperors; oh day worthy to be writ in the Almanac in red Letters for a most famous holiday.  Phil. 
Well jest on Gentlemen, when all is tried,  
I hope my patience shall exceed your pride.  Will. 
Wait at my elbow with a clean trencher Phil: do your duty, and have your due, you know your place, be ready with a glass of beer, and when I say fill, fill.  Enter the Clown. Clow. 
If please your worship here is a manner, or a kind of some foul desire to have some conference with you.  old Hard. 
A sea foul?  Clow. 
Yes a seagull, I mean a Mariner, he says he hath some news to tell you from my Mistress her brother at sea.  Old Hard. 
Touching my venture, prithee guide him in.  Clow. 
He smells as they say of pitch and tar, if you will have him to perfume the room with his sea musk. I'll show him the way instantly.  old Hard. 
I prithee do, and that with expedition.  Anne. 
I did not look thus soon to hear from him.  old Hard 
I fear some strange mishap hath late befallen him.  Enter Sailor and the Clown. Anne. 
Now honest friend the news, how fares my brother?  old Hard. 
How doth my venture prosper?  Sail. 
Sir, your Ship is taken, all your goods by Pirates seized, your brother prisoner, and of all your venture there's not the value of one penny saved.  old Hard. 
That news hath pierced my soul, and entered me quite through my heart, I am on the sudden sick, sick of I fear a mortal malady; oh, oh.  Ioh. 
How is it with my father?  old Hard. 
Worse and worse, the news of such a great and weighty loss kills all my vitals in me.  Will. 
Father, for heaven's sake father die not yet before you have made over your land.  Ioh. 
That were a jest indeed, why father, father?  old Har. 
Trouble me not, if I survive this night, you two shall be my heirs.  Will. 
This night if it be thy will.  Anne. 
Alas, how fare you Sir?  Ioh. 
Take courage father.  old Harr. 
Son lead me hence, and bear me to my bed, my strength doth fail, I cannot help myself.  Will. 
Run, run for the writings, they are ready drawn at the Scriveners, bid him bring them quickly with a vengeance.  old Hard. 
Let them alone, my hand hath not the strength to guide my pen, let them alone I say, support me to my bed, and my kind neighbours,  
Assist me with your prayers, for I divine  
My soul this night shall amongst Angels shine.  Ioh. 
Marry heaven forbid, can he find no time to die but now? come let's in, & haunt his ghost about the writings. Exe. man. Good. & Fost.  Fost. 
'Tis strange the bare report of such a loss should strike a man so deeply to the heart.  Goodw. 
I oft have read the like, how some have died with sudden joy, some with exceeding grief.  Fost 
If he should die Intestate, all the land falls to the elder brother, and the younger have nothing save mere from his courtesy.  Goodw. 
I know it, neither lands nor movables. Come let's hear what further news within. Enter the Clown.  Clow. 
O my Master, my Master, what shall I do for my poor Master, the kind churl is departed, never did poor hard-hearted wretch part out of the world so like a lamb; alas for my poor usuring, extortioning Master, many an old widow hast thou turned into the street, and many an orphan made beg their bread; oh my sweet, cruel, kind, pitiless, loving, hard hearted Master, he's dead, he's dead, he's gone, he's fled and now full low must lie his head. Oh my sweet, vild, kind flinty, mild, uncharitable master.  Fost. 
Dead on the sudden! 'tis exceeding strange, yet for the eldest son it happens well.  Goodw. 
Ill for the younger brother. Enter Jack and Will.  Will. 
jack.  Iac. 
Will.  Wil. 
The land's gone.  Iac. 
Father's dead.  Will. 
We have made a fair hand on't, have we not? who shall fill the glass now, and wait upon our trenchers?  Iac. 
Nay who must go to plough, and make clean the hen-roost, rub horse-heels, lead the wains, remove the billets, cleanse the shoules, and and indeed who must do all the drudgery about the house?  Wil. 
Could he find no time to die but now? I could even cry for anger: here they come. Enter Phil. & Sus. well habited. Anne and others.  Phil. 
My father's dead.  Ann. 
Alas for my dear husband.  Phil. 
Comfort yourself, although he die intestate it shall not hurt you; we have found you kind, and shall be now as willing to requite you, as able: How now brothers, do you weep? and bear a part with us in heaviness? no, no, your griefs and ours is contrary; I grieve I have lost a father, she a husband, this doth not move you; you lamenting stand, not for a father's loss, but loss of land: do you remember with what rude despite, what base contempt, and slavish contumely you have despised me and my dear loved wife.  Iac 
We partly remember it.  Phil. 
So do not I; I have forgot it quite, in sign whereof, though had you got my lands, heaven knows how ill you would have dealt with me, thus I'll use you receive your patrimony.  Clow. 
No more fellow Phil now, but here receive your proportions.  Phil. 
Your diet if you please is at my table, or where you please if you refuse my kindness.  Will. 
Kindness unlooked for, thanks gentle brother. jack, why this gold will never be spent.  Clow. 
Oh it is an easy thing to bring this mountain to a molehill.  Iac. 
This is more of your courtesy than our deserving, to trouble your table being so many Ordinaries in town, were somewhat superfluous.  Phil. 
Spend but in compass, rioting eschew, waste not, but seek to increase your patrimony, beware of dice and women; company with men of best desert and quality; lay but these words in your hearts enrolled, you'll find them better than these bags of gold.  Wil. 
Thanks for your coin and counsel: Come jack this shall be lavished among the suburbs; here's drink money, dice money, and drab money, here's money by the back, and money by the belly; here's that shall make us merry in Claret. Muskadine, and sherry: farewell, brother.  Iac. 
My most bounteous brother.  Clow. 
Farewell young Masters.  Phil. 
And now my vild friends, such as fawn on plenty, and cannot bear the very name of want.  Clow. 
We have found the Mine now.  Phil. 
You that disabled once the power of heaven, and scorned my state unable to be raised.  Clow. 
You see here's your Tale, and your Talesman.  Phil. 
Take heed lest here for your unthankfulness, that once raised, do not remove your estates (God be with you) henceforth howe'er you speed, trust not in riches, and despise not need.  Clow. 
One threescore pound will do't.  Phil. 
Mother, the thirds of all my Father's lands are yours; with whatsoever you like else; and now sweet Sue it glads me I shall make thee partner of all this plenty that borest part with me in all extreme necessities.  Sus. 
You are all my wealth, nor can I taste of want whilst I keep you; O would these fortunes raise my down cast Father, or repeal my Brother, my banished brother to his native home, I were in all my thoughts at peace with heaven.  Phil. 
All that I have is theirs; my only sorrow, next to my father, is in part for them, and next for your dear brother ta'en at Sea, whose loss if he survive we will repair even with the best of our ability; but come unto our father's burial first, whom though his life brought sorrow, death content, we cannot but with funeral tears lament.  Clow. 
And now no fellows unless it be at football. Enter Merchant.  Anne. 
Heaven being just could not deal longer roughly with one so virtuous and completely honest, he merits all he hath, but to my state. I am at once doubly unfortunate, I have lost a husband and a brother too.  Mr. 
A husband, Sister, but no brother, lo that brother lives.  Anne. 
And can it heaven be so?  Mr. 
You are the cause I live.  Anne. 
I brother? how? tidings were brought into this place but now your ship was spoiled, you prisoner.  Mer. 
And 'twas true, yet all these losses I regained by you.  Anne. 
By me?  Mer: 
By you and Sister thus it was; you saved the life of a young Gentleman whom for your sake I furnished out to sea, he when my ship was taken, I surprised, and bound, and cast in hold, restored my fortunes, and besides all my merchandise restored, wherein you bore chief venture, made me sharer of the rich pirate's prize.  Anne. 
That Gentleman!  Mer. 
The self same in whose life you did save yourself some thousand pounds, I have as further token of his gratitude, in this choice jewel he commends to you millions of gratulations and kind thanks, besides unto his Sister store of gold to redeem her wretched husband and herself from my deceased brother's slavery, which now I see pale death hath done for them.  Anne. 
You speak of unexpected novelties, with which we will acquaint their sorrowful souls; these tokens will be joyful to them both, and tidings of his safety welcomer than that great sum by him regained at sea.  Mer. 
We do them wrong to keep news of such joy  
So long from them, which we'll no longer smother,  
Two thousand pounds I bring you and a brother. Exeunt.    

Act. 5.  

Scen. 1.  Enter the Sheriffs, the silver oar, Purser and Clinton going to Execution. Pur. 
NOW how is't with thee Clinton?  Clin. 
Well, well.  Pur. 
But was't not better when we reigned as Lords, nay Kings at Sea, the Ocean was our realm, and the light billows in the which we sailed our hundreds, nay our shires, and provinces, that brought us annual profit, those were days.  Clin. 
Yes golden days, but now our last night's come, and we must sleep in darkness.  Pur. 
Worthy mate we have a flash left of some half hour long, that let us burn out bravely, not behind us leave a black noisome snuff of cowardice i'th' nostrils of our noble countrymen; let's die no base example.  Clin. 
Thinks Tom wanton, whom storms could never move, tempests daunt, rocks terrify nor swallowing gulfs affright, to whom the base abyss in roughest rage showed like a pleasant Garden in a calm, and the Sea-monsters but like beasts at land of profit or pleasure Clinton can be affrighted with a halter? hemp him strangle that thinks of him so basely.  Pur. 
In that word thou hast put a second sentence of our lives; yet Clinton never was't my thoughts of thee: oh the naval triumphs thou and I have seen, nay ourselves made, when on the seas at once have been as many bonfires as in Towns, kindled upon a night of Jubilee, as many Ordnance thundering in the Clouds as at Kings Coronations, and dead bodies heaved from the hatches, and cast overboard, as fast and thick as in some common Pest when the Plague sweeps Cities.  Clin. 
That it had swept us then too, so the seas had been to us a glorious monument, where now the fates have cast us on the shelf to hang twixt air and water.  Sher. 
Gentlemen, your limited hour draws nigh.  Pur. 
I that's the plague we spoke of, yet no greater than some before have tasted, and hereafter many be bound to suffer (and if Purser, as dying men seldom deem amiss) presage not wrong, how many gallant spirits, equal with us in fame, shall this gulf swallow, and make this silver oar to blush in blood? how many Captains that have awed the seas shall fall on this infortunate piece of land? some that commanded Lands, some to whom the Indian Mines paid Tribute, Turk veiled: but when we that have quaked, nay troubled floods, and made Armadoes fly before our stream, shall founder thus, be split and lost,  
Then be it no impeachment to their fame,  
Since Purser and bold Clinton bide the same.  Clin. 
What is our Ship well tackled? we may launch upon this desperate voyage.  Hang. 
Corded bravely.  Pur. 
Call up the Boatswain, soundly lash the slave with a rope's end; have him unto the Chest, or duck him at the Mainyard.  Hang. 
Have me to the chest, I must first have you to the Gallows, and for Ducking, I'm afraid I shall see you ducked and draked too.  Pur. 
Oh you brave Navigators that have seen, or ever had yourselves command aboard, that knew our Empire there, and our fall now, pity at least us that are made the scorn of a base common Hangman.  Shr. 
Thou dost ill to offend them in their deaths.  Hang. 
I have, and long to make an end of them.  Pur. 
Hadst thou but two months since wrinkled a brow, looked but askew, much less unloosed thy lips to speak, speak said I? nay but lodged a thought, or murmur of the least affront to us, thee, basest of all worm's meat, I had made unwholesome food for haddocks: but I ha' done.  Clin. 
Enough Tom Watton, with these sheets not sails, a stiff gale blows to split us on yon rock.  Pur. 
And set sail from the fatal Marshal seas, and Wapping is our harbour, a quick sand that shall swallow many a brave Marine soldier, of whose valour, experience, skill, and Naval discipline, being lost, I wish this land may never have need: but what star must we sail by? or what compass?  Hang. 
I know not the star, but here's your compass.  Pur. 
Yes that way points the Needle, that way we steer a sad course, plague of the Pilot; hear you Mr. Sheriff, you see we wear good clothes, they are paid for, and our own, then give us leave our own amongst our friends to distribute: There's, Sir, for you.  Clin. 
And you.  Pur. 
The work man made them took never measure on a hangman's back; wear them for our sakes, and remember us; there's some content for him too.  Hang. 
Thank your worships.  Clin. 
I would your knaveship had our worships place, if hanging now be held so worshipful.  Pur. 
But now our Sun is all setting, night comes on, the watery wilderness o'er which we reigned, proves in our ruins peaceful, Mr. Chantes trade fearless abroad as in the river's mouth, and free as in a harbour, then fair Thames, Queen of fresh water, famous through the world, and not the least through us, whose double tides must overflow our bodies, and being dead, may thy clear waves our scandals wash away, but keep our valours living; now lead on Clinton, thus arm in arm let's march to death, and wheresoe'er our names are memorised,  
The world report two valiant Pirates fell,  
Shot betwixt wind and water; so farewell. Exeunt as they entered.  Enter old Forrest and young Forrest. old For. 
A father's blessing, more than all thy honours crown thee, and make thy fortunes growing still: Oh heavens I shall be too importunate to ask more earthly favours at your hands; now that you after all these miseries have still reserved my son safe and unscorned. Besides thy pardon and thy country's freedom, what favours hath her Grace conferred on thee?  young For. 
More than my pardon and the meed proposed, to grace the rest, she styled me with the order of Knighthood, and for the service of my country, with promise of employments of more weight: the Pirates were committed to the Marshalseas, condemned already, and this day to die: and now as part of my neglected duty, it rests I visit that fair Gentlewoman to whom I stand indebted for my life; that necessary duty once performed, out of my present fortunes to distribute some present comfort to my sister's wants.  old For. 
A grateful friend thou art, a kind dear brother, and a most loving son.  Enter Philip, Susan, Merchant, Anne. Phil. 
Sir, more than all these fortunes now befallen me, a fate 'midst all disaster unexpected, my noble brother's late success at sea hath filled me with a surplusage of joy, nor am I least of all endeared to you, to be the first reporter.  Mer. 
'Tis most true, and I the man that in the most distress had first share of his bounty.  Anne. 
Of his goodness we have had sufficient taste already, but to be made more happy in his sight would plenally rejoice us.  Sus. 
It would prove like surfeit after sweet meats.  young For. 
See all my friends, but first let me salute her to whom I am most bound.  Sus. 
My most dear father.  old For. 
My blessings meeting with a husband's love make thy years long and happy.  Anne 
You are most grateful, and much beyond my merit.  Sus. 
O spare me, Sir, to fly into his arms that hath so long fled from me.  young For. 
My sweet Sister.  Phil. 
Bar me not all the best fruition of what in part you have tasted: Sir, I am one amongst the rest that love you.  young For. 
I take't my sister's husband, unto me therefore one most entired.  Mer 
Sir the same, and I though last in my acknowledgement, yet first in due arrearage.  young For. 
You I know to be a worthy Merchant and my friend, to whose, next to your sister's courtesy I stand engaged most for a forfeit life: But he next to the powers divine above, I ever must adore; and now fair creature I dare more boldly look upon the face of your good man then when I saw you last.  Mer. 
And that's some question.  young For. 
Wherefore hath that word struck you with sudden sadness.  Ann. 
My husband!  Phil. 
He's late dead, and yet hath left her none of the poorest widows.  young For. 
Dead did you say, and I a Bachelor, now on whom better or justlier can I confer myself, than to be hers by whom I have my being, and live to her that freely gave me life? there is a providence that prompts too't, and I will give it motion: Gentle Lady, by you I am, and what I am by you, be then to me as I have styled you last, a Lady heavens have made you my preserver, to preserve me for yourself, losing a husband, who knows but you have saved me to that end, that lost name to recover; and by me sweet interchange and double gratitude: I left you sped, but find you now despoiled: Married you ventured for my single life; Widowed, by me to gain the name of wife.  Mer. 
What, pause you at the motion? you are not my Sister if you deny him.  Phil. 
Let me plead for him.  Sus. 
O doubly link me to you, be you styled my Brother and my Father.  old For. 
With you let my age join, and make me proud to say, that in my last of days, barren of issue, I have got so fair a daughter.  young For. 
Sweet, your answer.  Anne. 
Sir, I should much mistake my own fair ends,  
Should I alone withstand so many friends.  
I am yours, and only so.  young For. 
I yours the same, and Lady now I kiss you by that name. Enter Clown.  Clown. 
What kissing already! then I smell another wedding towards, and in no fitter time than now: prepare yourselves Gentlemen and Gentlewomen; make a hall; for I come to present you with a Mask.  Phil. 
What Mask?  Clow. 
Not such as Ladies wear upon their faces, to keep the foul from the fair, but a plain Mask, or rather more properly I may call it a mumming, because the presenters have scarce a word to speak for themselves.  Phil. 
If there be any that appear as friends, and come to grace our feast in courtesy, admit 'em prithee.  Clow. 
That shall I Sir, and with all expedition,  
And that without drum, without fife, or musician.  
These two lines shall serve for the Prologue: now enter scena prima, Dramatis personae; these be the Actors, yet let me entreat you not to condemn them before you hear them speak.  Phil. 
Amazement startles me: are these my brothers?  Clow. 
By the Father's side it should seem; for you know he was a hard man, and it should seem 'tis but a hard world with them.  Phil. 
And these my false friends that distrusted heaven, and put their faith in riches; I pray Gentlemen how comes this change?  Ioh. 
How comes this change say you? no change of pastors, which they say makes fat calves, but change of drink, change of women, change of ordinaries, change of gaming, and one wench in the change; all these helped to make this change in us.  Wil. 
And change is no robbery, I have been robbed, but not at ruff, yet they that have robbed you see what a poor stock they have left me: A whore stole away my Maidenhead, ill company my good conditions, a broker robbed me of my apparel, drink of my wits, and dice of my money.  Phil. 
This is no more than expectation: but how come you thus altered?  Clow. 
If you had said haltered, Sir, you had gone more roundly to the business.  Fost. 
Sir, there was coining laid to my charge, for which (though I acquit myself) I made my estate over unto a friend (for so I thought him) but now he has cozened me, and turned me out of all.  Goodw. 
In dead of night my counting house was broke ope by thieves, and all my coin (which was my whole estate, and god I then did trust in) stole away, I left a forlorn beggar.  Phil. 
O wondrous, why this passes.  Clow. 
It may pass amongst the rest for a scurvy jest, but never like Mother Passes Ale, for that was knighted.  Mer. 
Ale knighted! how I prithee?  Clown 
You have heard of Ale Knights, therefore it is not improbable that Ale may be knighted.  Mer. 
Thy reason?  Clow. 
Why there is Ale in the town that passes from man to man, from lip to lip, and from nose to nose, but mother Passes double Ale I assure you, surpasses, therefore knighted.  Phil. 
Leave trifling, for more serious is the object offered before our eyes: In these heaven's justice, in these a most remarkable precedent to teach within our height to know ourselves; of which I make this use; you are my brothers (a name you once disdained to call me by) your wants shall be relieved: you that distrusted heavens providence, and made a mock of want and others' misery, no more deride; part of your loss shall be by me supplied according to my power.  young For. 
My noble brother, you teach us virtue, of which I could wish all those that see good days make happy use, so those distressed; for both there's precedent, but to our present nuptials; reverent Father dear Lady, Sister, Friend, nay brothers too, but you Sir, most conjoined and endeared.  
In us the world may see our fates well scanned,  
Fortune in me by Sea, in you by Land. Exeunt omnes.    
FINIS.