THE City-Madam, A comedy.  
As it was acted at the private House in Black Friars with great applause.  
Written by Philip Massinger Gent.  
LONDON Printed for Andrew Pennycuicke, one of the Actors, in the year 1659.   

The Actors names.  

Lord lacy.  
Sir John Rich  
a Merchant  
Sir John lacy Son to Lord Lacy.  
Mr. Plenty a Country Gentleman.  
Luke Brother to Sir John Rich.  
Old Goldwire, Two Gentlemen. Old Tradewell  
Young Goldwire their sons, prentices, to Sir John Rich. Young Tradewell  
Stargaze an ginger.  
Fortune a decaied Merchant.  
Hoyst a decaied gentleman.  
Penury.  
Holdfast a Steward.  
Ramble, Scuffle, two Hectors.  
Dingem a Pimp.  
Gettall a Box-keeper.  
Lady Rich.  
Anne her daughters Mary  
Milliscent her woman.  
Shavem a Wench.  
Secret a bawd.   
Scene London.   

To the truly Noble and virtuous Lady Ann, Countess of Oxford.  
HONOURED LADY!  
IN that age when wit and learning were outconquered by injury, and violence; this Poem was the object of love and Commendations, it being composed by an infallible pen, and censured by an unerring Auditory. In this Epistle I shall not need to make an Apology: for Plays in general by exhibiting their antiquity and utility, in a word they are mirrors or glasses which none but deformed faces, and fouler consciences fear to look into. The encouragement I had to prefer this dedication to your powerful protection proceeds from the universal fame of the deceased Author, who (although he composed many) writ none amiss, and this may justly be ranked amongst his best. I have redeemed it from the teeth of time, by committing of it to the press, but in more imploring your Patronage, I will not slander it with my praises, it is commendations enough to call it Massingers, if it may gain your allowance and pardon; I am highly gratified, and desire only to wear the happy title of,  
MADAM, Your humblest Servant, Andrew Pennycuicke.   

THE City-Madam, A comedy.  


Actus primus, Scena prima.  Enter Goldwire, and Tradewell. Goldwire 
THe Ship is safe in the Pool then?  Tradewell. 
And makes good,  
In her rich fraught, the name she bears, the Speedwell:  
My Master will find it, for on my certain knowledge  
For every hundred that he ventured in her  
She hath returned him five.  Goldwire. 
And it comes timely,  
For besides a payment on the nail for a Manor  
Late purchased by my Master, his young daughters  
Are ripe for marriage.  Tradewell. 
Who? Nan, and Moll.  Goldwire. 
Mistress Anne and Mary, and with some addition,  
Or 'tis more punishable in our house  
Then Scandalum magnatum.  Tradewell 
'Tis great pity  
Such a Gentleman as my Master for that title  
His being a Citizen, cannot take from him,  
Hath no male heir to inherit his estate,  
And keep his name alive.  Goldwire. 
The want of one  
Swells my young Mistresses, and their madam mother  
With hopes above their birth, and scale. Their dreams are  
Of being made Countesses, and they take state  
As they were such already. When you went  
To the Indies, there was some shape and proportion  
Of a Merchant's house in our family, but since  
My Master, to gain precedency for my Mistress  
Above some Elder Merchants Wives, was knighted  
'Tis grown a little Court, in bravery,  
Variety of fashions, and those rich ones:  
There are few great Ladies going to a Masque  
That do outshine ours in their everyday habits.  Tradewell. 
'Tis strange my Master in his wisdom can  
Give the reins to such exorbitancy.  Goldwire. 
He must,  
Or there's no peace nor rest for him at home;  
I grant his state will bear it, yet he's censured  
For his indulgence, and for Sir John Frugal  
By some styled Sir John Prodigal.  Tradewell. 
Is his brother  
Mr. Luke Frugal living?  Goldwire. 
Yes, the more  
His misery, poor man.  Tradewell. 
Still in the Counter?  Goldwire. 
In a worser place. He was redeemed from the hole,  
To live in our house in hell: since his base usage  
Considered, 'tis no better. My proud Lady  
Admits him to her Table, marry ever  
Beneath the Salt, and there he sits the subject  
Of her contempt and scorn; and dinner ended,  
His courteous Nieces find employment for him  
Fitting an under-prentice, or a Footman,  
And not an Uncle.  Tradewel. 
I wonder, being a Scholar well read, and travelled,  
The world yielding means for men of such desert,  
He should endure it.  Enter Stargaze, Lady, Anne, Marry, Millescent, in several postures, with looking-glasses at their girdles. Goldwire. 
He does, with a strange patience; and to us  
The servants so familiar, nay humble.  
I'll tell you, but I am cut off. Look these  
Like a citizen's wife and daughters?  Tradewel. 
In their habits  
They appear other things; but what are the motives  
Of this strange preparation?  Goldwire. 
The young wagtails  
Expect their suitors. The first, the Son and Heir  
Of the Lord Lady, who needs my Master's money,  
As his daughter does his honour. The second Mr. Plenty,  
A rough hewn gentleman, and newly come  
To a great estate, and so all aids of Art  
In them's excusable.  Lady. 
You have done your parts here:  
To your study, and be curious in the search  
Of the Nativities.  Exit Stargaze. Tradewel. 
methinks the mother,  
As if she could renew her youth, in care,  
Nay curiosity to appear lovely,  
Comes not behind her daughters.  Goldwire. 
Keeps the first place,  
And though the Church-book speak her fifty, they  
That say she can write thirty, more offend her,  
Then if they taxed her honesty: tother day  
A Tenant of hers, instructed in her humour,  
But one she never saw, being brought before her,  
For saying only, Good young Mistress help me  
To the speech of your Lady-mother, so far pleased her,  
That he got his Lease renewed for't.  Tradewell. 
How she bristles:  
Prithee observe her.  Millescent. 
As I hope to see  
A Country Knights son and heir walk bare before you  
When you are a Countess, as you may be one  
When my Master dies, or leaves trading; and I continuing  
Your principal woman, take the upperhand  
Of a squire's wife, though a Justice, as I must  
By the place you give me, you look now as young  
As when you were married.  Lady. 
I think I bear my years well.  Millescent. 
Why should you talk of years? Time hath not ploughed  
One furrow in your face; and were you not known  
The mother of my young Ladies, you might pass  
For a Virgin of fifteen.  Tradewell. 
Here's no gross flattery:  
Will she swallow this?  Goldwire. 
You see she does, and glibly.  Millescent. 
You never can be old, wear but a Masque  
Forty years hence, and you will still seem young  
In your other parts: What a waste is here? O Venus?  
That I had been born a King! and here a hand  
To be kiss'd ever; Pardon my boldness, Madam:  
Then, for a leg and foot you will be courter  
When a great Grandmother.  Lady. 
These indeed, Wench, are not  
So subject to decayings as the face,  
Their Comeliness lasts longer.  Milliscent. 
Ever, ever:  
Such a rare Featured, and proportioned Madam  
London could never boast of.  Lady. 
Where are my Shoes.  Milliscent. 
Those that your Ladyship gave order  
Should be made of the Spanish Perfumed Skins.  Lady. 
The same.  Milliscent. 
I sent the prison-bird this morning for 'em,  
But he neglects his duty.  Ann. 
He is grown  
Exceeding careless.  Mary. 
And begins to murmur  
At our commands, and sometimes grumbles to us,  
He is forsooth our Uncle.  Lady. 
He is your slave,  
And as such use him.  Ann. 
Willingly, but he's grown  
Rebellious Madam.  Enter Luke, with Shoes, Garters and Roses. Goldwire. 
Nay like Hen, like Chicken.  Lady. 
I'll humble him.  Goldwire. 
There he comes sweating all over,  
He shows like a walking frippery.  Lady. 
Very good Sir,  
Were you drunk last night, that you could rise no sooner  
With humble diligence to do what my Daughters,  
And woman did command you.  Luke. 
Drunk, an't please you.  Lady. 
Drunk, I said, Sirrah. Dar'st thou in a look  
Repine, or grumble? thou unthankful wretch,  
Did our charity redeem thee out of prison,  
Thy Patrimony spent, ragged, and lousy.  
When the sheriff's basket, and his broken meat  
Were your Festival exceedings, and is this  
So soon forgotten?  Luke. 
I confess I am  
Your Creature Madam.  Lady. 
And good reason why  
You should continue so.  Ann. 
Who did new cloth you?  Mary. 
Admitted you to the Dining-room?  Milliscent. 
Allowed you a fresh bed in the garret?  Lady. 
Or from whom  
Received you spending money?  Luke. 
I owe all this  
To your goodness, Madam: For it you have my prayers,  
The beggar's satisfaction; all my studies,  
(Forgetting what I was, but withal duty  
Remembering what I am) are how to please you.  
And if in my long stay I have offended,  
I ask your pardon. Though you may consider,  
Being forced to fetch these from the Old Exchange,  
These from the Tower, and these from Westminster,  
I could not come much sooner.  Goldwire. 
Here was a walk  
To breathe a Footman.  Ann. 
'Tis a curious Fan.  Mary. 
These Roses will show rare; would 'twere in fashion  
That the Garters might be seen too.  Milliscent. 
Many Ladies  
That know they have good legs, wish the same with you:  
Men that way have th'advantage.  Luke. 
I was with the Lady,  
And delivered her the Satin  
For her Gown, and Velvet for her Petticoat,  
This night She vows she'll pay you.  Goldwire. 
How I am bound  
To your favour M. Luke.  Milliscent. 
As I live, you will perfume all rooms you walk in.  Lady. 
Get your fur,  
You shall pull'em on within.  Goldwire. 
That servile office  
Her pride imposes on him.  Exit Luke. Sr. John within: Goldwire. 
Tradewell.  Tradewell. 
My Master calls. We come Sir.  Exeunt Goldwire, Tradewell. Enter Holdfast with Porters. Lady. 
What have you brought there?  Holdfast. 
The Cream of the market, provision enough  
To serve a garrison. I weep to think on't.  
When my Master got his wealth, his family fed  
On roots, and livers, and necks of beef on Sundays.  
But now I fear it will be spent in poultry.  
butcher's meat will not go down.  Lady. 
Why, you Rascal, is it at  
Your expense? what Cooks have you provided?  Holdfast. 
The best of the City. They have wrought at my  
Lord Mayors.  Ann. 
Fie on 'em, they smell of Fleet-Lane, and Pie-corner.  Mary. 
And thinks the happiness of man's life consists  
In a mighty shoulder of mutton.  Lady. 
I'll have none  
Shall touch what I shall eat, you grumbling Cur,  
But Frenchmen and Italians; they wear Satin,  
And dish no meat but in Silver.  Holdfast. 
You may want, though,  
A dish or two when the service ends.  Lady. 
Leave prating,  
I'll have my will; do you as I command you.  Exeunt  

Actus primus, Scena secunda.  Enter lacy, and Page. lacy. 
YOu were with Plenty?  Page. 
Yes Sir.  lacy. 
And what answer  
Returned the clown?  Page. 
Clown Sir! he is transformed,  
And grown a gallant of the last edition;  
More rich than gaudy in his habit, yet  
The freedom, and the bluntness of his language  
Continues with him. When I told him that  
You gave him Caution, as he loved the peace,  
And safety of his life, he should forbear  
To pass the Merchant's threshold, until you  
Of his two Daughters had made choice of her  
Whom you designed to honour as your wife.  
He smiled in scorn.  lacy. 
In scorn?  Page. 
His words confirmed it,  
They were few, but to this purpose; Tell your Master,  
Though his Lordship in reversion were now his,  
It cannot awe me. I was born a Freeman,  
And will not yield in the way of affection  
Precedence to him. I will visit 'em,  
Though he sat Porter to deny my entrance.  
When I meet him next I'll say more to his face.  
Deliver thou this, then gave me a piece  
To help my memory, and so we parted.  lacy. 
Where got he this spirit.  Page. 
At the Academy of valour,  
Newly erected for the institution  
Of elder Brothers. Where they are taught the ways,  
Though they refuse to seal for a duelist,  
How to decline a challenge. He himself  
Can best resolve you.  Enter Plenty and three Serving-men. lacy. 
You Sir?  Plenty. 
What with me Sir?  
How big you look? I will not lose a hat  
To a hair's breadth, move your Beaver, I'll move mine,  
Or if you desire to prove your sword, mine hangs  
As near my right hand, and will as soon out, though I keep  
Not a Fencer to breathe me, walk into moorfield's,  
I dare look on your Toledo. Do not show  
A foolish valour in the streets, to make  
Work for shopkeepers, and their clubs, 'tis scurvy,  
And the women will laugh at us.  lacy. 
You presume  
On the protection of your Hinds.  Plenty. 
I scorn it:  
Though I keep men I fight not with their fingers,  
Nor make it my Religion to follow  
The gallants fashion, to have my family  
Consisting in a Footman, and a Page,  
And those two sometimes hungry. I can feed these,  
And clothe'em too, my gay Sir.  lacy. 
What a fine man  
Hath your tailor made you?  Plenty. 
'tis quite contrary,  
I have made my tailor, for my clothes are paid for  
as soon as put on, a sin your man of title  
Is seldom guilty of, but Heaven forgive it.  
I have other faults too very incident  
To a plain Gentleman. I eat my Venison  
With my neighbours in the Country, and present not  
My pheasants, partridges, and grouse to the usurer,  
Nor ever yet paid brokage to his scrivener.  
I flatter not my mercer's wife, nor feast her  
With the first cherries, or pelcods, to prepare me  
Credit with her husband, when I come to London.  
The wool of my sheep, or a score or two of fat oxen  
In Smithfield, give me money for my expenses.  
I can make my wife a jointure of such lands too; as are not encumbered, no annuity  
Or statue lying on'em. This I can do  
And it please your future honour, and why therefore  
You should forbid my being a suitor with you  
My dulness apprehends not.  Page. 
This is bitter.  lacy. 
I have heard you Sir, and in my patience shown  
too much of the stoics. But to parley further,  
Or answer your gross jeers would write me coward.  
This only thy great grandfather was a Butcher,  
And his son a Grazier,  
Thy Sire Constable of the hundred, and thou the first of your dunghill, created gentleman  
Now you may come on Sir, you, and your thrashers.  Plenty. 
Stir not on your lives.  
This for the graziers, this for the butcher. they fight  lacy. 
So Sir.  Page. 
I'll not stand idle, draw my little rapier  
Against your bum blades. I'll one, by one dispatch you.  
Then house this instrument of death, and horror.  Enter Sir John, Luke, Goldwire, Tradewell. Sr. John. 
Beat down their weapons. My gate ruffian's hall:  
What insolence is this?  Luke. 
Noble Sir Maurice,  
Worshipful Mr. Plenty.  Sr. John. 
I blush for you,  
Men of your quality expose your same  
To every vulgar censure. This at midnight  
After a drunken supper in a Tavern,  
(No civil man abroad to censure it)  
Had shown poor in you, but in the day, and view  
Of all that pass by, monstrous  Plenty. 
Very well Sir;  
You look for this defence.  Lacte. 
'Tis thy protection,  
But it will deceive thee.  Sr. John. 
Hold, if you proceed thus  
I must make use of the next Justice's power,  
And leave persuasion. And in plain terms tell you  Enter Lady, Anne, Marry, and Milliscent. 
Neither your birth, Sir Maurice, nor your wealth,  
Shall privilege this riot. See whom you have drawn  
To be spectators of it? can you imagine  
It can stand with the credit of my daughters,  
To be the argument of your swords? i'th' street too?  
Nay ere you do salute, or I give way,  
To any private conference, shake hands  
In sign of peace. He that drawsiback parts with  
My good opinion. This is as it should be.  
Make your approaches, and if their affection  
Can sympathize with yours, they shall not come  
On my credit beggars to you. I will hear  
What you reply within.  Laeie. 
May I have the honour  
To support you Lady.  Plenty. 
I know not what's supporting,  
But by this fair hand, glove and all, I love you.  Exeunt omnes preter Luke. To him Enter Hoyst, Penury, Fortune. Luke. 
You are come with all advantage. I will help you  
To the speech of my Brother.  Fortune. 
Have you moved him for us?  Luke 
With the best of my endeavours, and I hope.  
You'll find him tractable.  Penury. 
Heaven grant he prove so.  Hoyst. 
howe'er I'll speak my mind.  Enter Lord lacy. Luke. 
Do so M. Hoyst.  
Go in. I'll pay my duty to this Lord,  
And then I am wholly yours. Heaven bless your honour.  Lord. 
Your hand Mr. Luke, the world's much changed with you  
Within these few months; than you were the gallant:  
No meeting at the Horse-race, Cocking, Hunting,  
Shooting, or Bowling, at which Mr. Luke  
Was not a principal gamester, and companion  
For the Nobility.  Luke. 
I have paid dear  
For those follies, my good Lord, and 'tis but justice  
That such as soar above their pitch, and will not  
Be warned by my example, should like me  
Share in the miseries that wait upon't.  
Your Honour in your charity may do well  
Not to upbraid me with those weaknesses  
Too late repented.  Lord. 
I nor do, nor will;  
And you shall find I'll lend a helping hand  
To raise your fortunes: How deals your brother with you?  Luke. 
Beyond my merit, I thank his goodness for't.  
I am a Freeman, all my debts discharged,  
Nor does one Creditor undone by me  
Curse my loose riots. I have meat and clothes,  
Time to ask heaven remission for what's past;  
Cares of the world by me are laid aside,  
My present poverty's a blessing to me;  
And though I have been long, I dare not say  
I ever lived till now.  Lord. 
You bear it well;  
Yet as you wish I should receive for truth  
What you deliver, with that truth acquaint me  
With your brother's inclination. I have heard  
In the acquisition of his wealth, he weighs no:  
Whose ruins he builds upon.  Luke. 
In that report  
Wrongs him, my Lord. He is a Citizen,  
And would increase his heap, and will not lose  
What the Law gives him. Such as are worldly wise  
Pursue that tract, or they will ne'er wear scarlet.  
But if your Honour please to know his temper,  
You are come opportunely. I can bring you  
Where you unseen shall see, and hear his carriage  
Towards some poor men, whose making or undoing  
Depend upon his pleasure.  A Table, Count book, Standish, Chair and stools set out, Lord. 
To my wish,  
I know no object that could more content me.  Exeunt  

Actus primus, Scena tertia.  Enter Sir John, Hoyst, Fortune, Penury, Goldwire. Sir John. 
WHat would you have me do? reach me a chair.  
When I lent my moneys I appeared an Angel;  
But now I would call in mine own, a Devil.  Hoyst. 
Were you the devil's dam, you must stay till I have it.  
For as I am a Gentleman,  Enter Luke placing the Lord lacy, Luke. 
There you may hear all.  Hoyst. 
I pawned you my land for the tenth part of the value,  
Now, cause I am a Gamester, and keep Ordinaries,  
And a Livery punk, or so, and trade not with  
The money-mongers wives, not one will be bound for me:  
'Tis a hard case, you must give me longer day  
Or I shall grow very angry.  Sir John. 
Fret, and spare not.  
I know no obligation lies upon me  
With my honey to feed Drones. But to the purpose,  
How much owes Penury?  Goldwire. 
Two hundred pounds:  
His Bond three times since forfeited.  Sir John. 
Is it sued?  Goldwire. 
Yes Sir, and execution out against him  Sir John. 
For body and goods.  Goldwire. 
For both, Sir.  Sir John. 
See it served.  Penury. 
I am undone; my wife and family.  
Must starve for want of bread.  Sir John. 
More Infidel thou  
In not providing better to support'em.  
What's Fortune's debt?  Goldwire. 
A thousand, Sir.  Sir John. 
An estate  
For a good man. You were the glorious Trader,  
Embraced all bargains; the main venturer  
In every Ship that launched forth; kept your wife  
As a Lady, she had her Coach, her choice  
Of Summer-houses, built with other men's moneys  
Took up at Interest, the certain road  
To Ludgate in a Citizen. Pray you acquaint me  
How were my thousand pounds employed?  Fortune. 
Insult not  
On my calamity, though being a debtor,  
And a slave to him that lends, I must endure it.  
Yet hear me speak thus much in my defence;  
Losses at sea, and those Sir, great, and many,  
By storms, and tempests, not domestical riots  
In soothing my wife's humour, or mine own,  
Have brought me to this low ebb.  Sir John. 
Suppose this true;  
What is't to me? I must, and will have my money,  
Or I'll protest you first, and that done have  
The Statute made for Bankrupts served upon you.  Fortune. 
'Tis in your power, but not in mine to shun it.  Luke. 
Not as a brother, Sir, but with such duty  
As I should use unto my Father, since  
Your charity is my parent, give me leave  
To speak my thoughts.  Sir John. 
What would you say?  Luke 
No word, Sir,  
I hope shall give offence; nor let it relish  
Of flattery, though I proclaim aloud:  
I glory in the bravery of your mind,  
To which your wealths a servant. Not that riches  
Is or should be contemned, it being a blessing  
Derived from heaven, and by your industry  
Pulled down upon you; but in this dear, Sir,  
You have many equals: Such a man's possessions  
Extend as far as yours, a second hath  
His bags as full; a third in credit flies  
As high in the popular voice: but the distinction  
And noble difference by which you are  
Divided from 'em, is, that you are styled  
Gentle in your abundance, good in plenty,  
And that you feel compassion in your bowels  
Of others miseries (I have found it, Sir,  
Heaven keep me thankful for't) while they are cursed  
As rigid and inexorable.  Sir John. 
I delight not  
To hear this spoke to my face.  Luke. 
That shall not grieve you,  
Your affability, and mildness clothed  
In the garments of your debtors breath  
Shall everywhere, though you strive to conceal it  
Be seen, and wondered at, and in the act  
With a prodigal hand rewarded. Whereas such  
As are born only for themselves, and live so,  
Though prosperous in worldly understandings,  
Are but like beasts of rapine, that by odds  
Of strength, usurp, and tyrannize o'er others  
Brought under their subjection.  Lord. 
A rare fellow!  
I am strangely taken with him.  Luke. 
Can you think Sir,  
In your unquestioned wisdom, I beseech you,  
The goods of this poor man sold at an outcry,  
His wife turned out of doors, his children forced  
To beg their bread: this gentleman's estate  
By wrong extorted can advantage you?  Hoyst. 
If it thrive with him hang me, as it will damn him  
If he be not converted.  Luke. 
You are too violent.  
Or that the ruin of this once brave Merchant  
(For such he was esteemed though now decayed)  
Will raise your reputation with good men.  
But you may urge, pray you pardon me, my zeal  
Makes me thus bold and vehement, in this  
You satisfy your anger, and revenge  
For being defeated. Suppose this, it will not  
Repair your loss, and there was never yet  
But shame, and scandal in a victory  
When the rebels unto reasons passions fought it.  
Then for revenge by great souls it was ever  
Contemned, though offered; entertained by none  
But cowards, base, and abject spirits, strangers  
To moral honesty, and never yet  
Acquainted with religion.  Lord. 
Our divines  
Cannot speak more effectually.  Sir John. 
Shall I be  
Talked out of my money?  Luke. 
No, Sir, but entreated  
To do yourself a benefit, and preserve  
What you possess entire.  Sir. John. 
How my good brother?  Luke. 
By making these your beadsmen. When they eat,  
Their thanks next heaven, will be paid to your mercy  
When your Ships are at Sea, their prayers will swell  
The Sails with prosperous winds, and guard'em from  
Tempests, and pirates: keep your warehouses  
From fire, or quench'em with their tears.  Sir John. 
No more.  Luke. 
Write you a good man in the people's hearts,  
Follow you everywhere.  Sir John. 
If this could be.  Luke. 
It must or our devotions are but words,  
I see a gentle promise in your eye,  
Make it a blessed act, and poor, me rich  
In being the instrument.  S. John. 
You shall prevail.  
Give'em longer day. But do you hear, no talk of't.  
Should this arrive at twelve on the Exchange.  
I shall be laughed at for my foolish pity.  
Which money men hate deadly. Take your own time  
But see you break not. carry'em to the Cellar,  
Drink a health, and thank your Orator.  Penury. 
On our knees Sir.  Fortune. 
Honest M. Luke!  Hoyst. 
I bless the Counter where  
You learned this Rhetoric.  Luke. 
No more of that friends.  Exeunt Luke, Hoyst, Fortune, Penury S. John. 
My honourable Lord  Lord. 
I have seen and heard all,  
Excuse my manners, and wish heartily  
You were all of a piece. Your charity to your debtors  
I do commend, but where you should express  
Your piety to the height, I must boldly tell you  
You show yourself an Atheist.  Sir John. 
Make me know  
My error, and for what I am thus censured,  
And I will purge myself, or else confess  
A guilty cause.  Lord. 
It is your harsh demeanour  
To your poor brother.  S. John. 
Is that all?  Lord. 
'Tis more  
Than can admit defence. You keep him as  
A Parasite to your table, subject to  
The scorn of your proud wife: an underling  
To his own Nieces. And can I with mine honour  
Mix my blood with his, that is not sensible  
Of his brother's miseries?  S. John. 
Pray you take me with you,  
And let me yield my reasons why I am  
No opener handed to him. I was born  
His elder brother, yet my father's fondness  
To him the younger robbed me of my birthright:  
He had a fair estate, which his loose riots  
Soon brought to nothing. Wants grew heavy on him  
And when laid up for debt, of all forsaken,  
And in his own hopes lost, I did redeem him,  Lord. 
You could not do less.  S. John. 
Was I bound to it my Lord?  
What I possess, I may with justice call  
The harvest of my industry. Would you have me,  
Neglecting mine own family, to give up  
My estate to his disposure?  Lord. 
I would have you,  
What's passed forgot, to use him as a brother;  
A brother of fair parts, of a clear soul,  
Religious, good, and honest.  S. John. 
Outward gloss  
Often deceives, may it not prove so in him,  
And yet my long acquaintance with his nature  
Renders me doubtful, but that shall not make  
A breach between us: Let us in to dinner,  
And what trust, or employment you think sit  
Shall be conferred upon him: If he prove  
True gold in the touch, I'll be no mourner for it.  Lord. 
If counterfeit, I'll never trust my judgement.  Exeunt.   


Actus secundus, Scena prima.  Enter Luke, Holdfast, Goldwire, Tradewell. Holdfast. 
The like was never seen.  Luk. 
Why in this rage man?  Holdfast. 
Men may talk of Country-Christmases, and courtgluttony,  
Their thirty pound buttered eggs, their Pies of Carps tongues,  
Their Pheasants drenched with Ambergris, the carcases  
Of three fat wethers bruised for gravy to  
Make sauce for a single Peacock, yet their feasts  
Were fasts compared with the Cities.  Tradewell. 
What dear dainty  
Was it thou murmurest at?  Holdfast. 
Did you not observe it?  
There were three sucking pigs served up in a dish,  
Took from the sow as soon as farrowed,  
A fortnight fed with dates, and muskadine,  
That stood my Master in twenty marks a piece,  
Besides the puddings in their bellies made  
Of I know not what. I dare swear the cook that dressed it  
Was the Devil, disguised like a dutchman.  Goldwire. 
Yet all this  
Will not make you fat, fellow. Holdfast.  Holdfast. 
I am rather  
Starved to look on't. But here's the mischief, though  
The dishes were raised one upon another  
As woodmongers do billets, for the first,  
The second, and third course, and most of the shops  
Of the best confectioners in London ransacked  
To furnish out a banquet, yet my Lady  
Called me penurious rascal, and cried out,  
There was nothing worth the eating.  Goldwire. 
You must have patience,  
This is not done often.  Holdfast. 
'Tis not fit it should,  
Three such dinners more would break an Alderman,  
And make him give up his cloak. I am resolved  
To have no hand in't. I'll make up my accounts  
And since, my Master longs to be undone:  
The great Fiend be his Steward, I will pray,  
And bless myself from him.  Exit Holdfast. Goldwire. 
The wretch shows in this  
An honest care.  Luke. 
Out on him, with the fortune  
Of a slave, he has the mind of one. However  
She bears me hard, I like my Lady's humour,  
And my brother's suffrage to it. They are now  
Busy on all hands; one side eager for  
Large portions, the other arguing strictly  
For jointures, and security; but this  
Being above our scale, no way concerns us.  
How dull you look? in the mean time how intend you  
To spend the hours?  Goldwire. 
We well know how we would,  
But dare not serve our wills.  Tradewell. 
Being prentices,  
We are bound to attendance.  Luke. 
Have you almost served out  
The term of your Indentures, yet make conscience  
By starts to use your liberty? Hast thou traded  
In the other world, exposed unto all dangers,  
To make thy Master rich, yet dar'st not take  
Some portion of the profit for thy pleasure?  
Or wilt thou being keeper of the Cash,  
Like an Ass that carries dainties, feed on Thistles?  
Are you gentlemen born, yet have no gallant tincture  
Of gentry in you? You are no Mechanics,  
Nor serve some needy shopkeeper, who surveys  
His every-day-takings. You have in your keeping,  
A mass of wealth, from which you may take boldly,  
And no way be discovered, He's no rich man  
That knows all he possesses, and leaves nothing  
For his servants to make prey of. I blush for you,  
Blush at your poverty of spirit, you  
The brave sparks of the City?  Goldwire. 
M. Luke,  
I wonder, you should urge this, having felt  
What misery follows riot.  Tradewell. 
And the penance  
You endured for't in the Counter.  Luke. 
You are fools,  
The case is not the same. I spent mine own money,  
And my stock being small, no marvel 'twas soon wasted.  
But you without the least doubt or suspicion,  
If cautelous, may make bold with your Masters.  
As for example; when his Ships come home,  
And you take your receipts, as 'tis the fashion,  
For fifty bales of Silk you may write forty,  
Or for so many pieces of Cloth of Bodkin,  
Tissue, Gold, Silver, Velvets, Satins, taffeties,  
A piece of each deducted from the gross  
Will never be missed, a dash of a pen will do it.  Trad. 
ay, but our father's bonds that lie in pawn  
For our honesties must pay for't.  Luke. 
A mere bugbear  
Invented to fright children. As I live  
Were I the master of my brother's fortunes,  
I should glory in such servants. Didst thou know  
What ravishing lechery it is to enter  
An Ordinary, ca pa pe, trimmed like a Gallant,  
(For which in trunks concealed be ever furnished)  
The reverence, respect, the crouches, cringes,  
The musical chime of Gold in your crammed pockets,  
Commands from the attendants, and poor Porters?  Tradewell. 
Oh rare!  Luke. 
Then sitting at the Table with  
The braveries of the kingdom, you shall hear  
Occurrents from all corners of the world,  
The plots, the Counsels, the designs of Princes,  
And freely censure'em; the City wits  
Cried up, or decried, as their passions lead'em;  
Judgement having nought to do there.  Tradewell. 
Admirable!  Luke. 
My Lord no sooner shall rise out of his chair,  
The gaming Lord I mean, but you may boldly  
By the privilege of a gamester fill his room,  
For in play you are all fellows; have your knife  
as soon in the Pheasant; drink your health as freely,  
And striking in a lucky hand or two,  
Buy out your time.  Tradewell. 
This may be: but suppose  
We should be known.  Luke. 
Have money and good clothes  
And you may pass invisible. Or if  
You love a Madam-punk, and your wide nostril  
Be taken with the scent of cambric smocks  
Wrought, and perfumed.  Goldwire. 
There, there, M. Luke,  
There lies my road of happiness.  Luke. 
Enjoy it,  
And pleasures stolen being sweetest, apprehend  
The raptures of being hurried in a Coach  
To Brainford, Stanes, or Barnet.  Goldwire. 
'Tis enchanting,  
I have proved it.  Luke. 
Hast thou?  Goldwire. 
Yes in all these places,  
I have had my several Pagans billeted  
For my own tooth, and after ten pound suppers  
The curtains drawn, my Fiddlers playing all night  
The shaking of the sheets, which I have danced  
Again, and again with my Cockatrice. M. Luke,  
You shall be of my counsel, and we two sworn brothers,  
And therefore I'll be open. I am out now  
Six hundred in the Cash, yet if on a sudden  
I should be called to account, I have a trick  
How to evade it, and make up the sum.  Tradewell. 
Is't possible?  Luke. 
You can intrust your Tutor.  
How? how? good Tom.  Goldwire. 
Why look you. We cash-keepers  
Hold correspondence, supply one another  
On all occasions. I can borrow for a week  
Two hundred pounds of one, as much of a second,  
A third lays down the rest, and when they want,  
As my Master's moneys come in, I do repay it,  
Ka me, ka thee.  Luke. 
An excellent knot! 'tis pity  
It e'er should be unloosed; for me it shall not,  
You are shown the way friend Tradewell, ou may make use on't,  
Or freeze in the warehouse, and keep company  
With the Cator Holdfast.  Tradewell. 
No, I am converted.  
A Barbican Broker will furnish me with outside,  
And then a crash at the Ordinary.  Goldwire. 
I am for  
The Lady you saw this morning, who indeed is  
My proper recreation.  Luke. 
Go to Tom,  
What did you make me?  Goldwire. 
I'll do as much for you,  
Employ me when you please:  Luke. 
If you are inquired for,  
I will excuse you both.  Tradewell. 
Kind M. Luke;  Goldwire. 
we'll break my Master to make you;  
You know.  Luke. 
I cannot love money, go boys. When time serves  
It shall appear, I have another end in't.  Exeunt.  
Enter Lord, Sir John, lacy, Plenty, Lady, Ann, Marry, Milliscent. Sir John. 
Ten thousand pounds a piece I'll make their portions,  
And after my decease it shall be double,  
Provided you assure them for their jointures  
800l. per annum, and entail  
A thousand more upon the heirs male,  
Begotten on their bodies.  Lord. 
Sir, you bind us  
To very strict conditions.  Plenty. 
You my Lord  
May do as you please: but to me it seems strange,  
We should conclude of portions, and of jointures,  
Before our hearts are settled.  Lady. 
You say right,  A chair set out. 
There are counsels of more moment, and importance  
On the making up of marriages to be  
Considered duly, than the portion, or the jointures  
In which a mother's care must be exacted,  
And I by special privilege may challenge  
A casting voice.  Lord. 
How's this?  Lady. 
Even so my Lord,  
In these affairs I govern.  Lord. 
Give you way to't?  S. John. 
I must my Lord.  Lady. 
'Tis fit he should, and shall:  
You may consult of something else, this Province  
Is wholly mine.  lacy. 
By the City custom Madam?  Lady. 
Yes my young Sir, and both must look my daughters  
Will hold it by my Copy.  Plenty. 
Brave i'faith.  S. John. 
Give her leave to talk, we have the power to do;  
And now touching the business we last talked of,  
In private if you please.  Lord. 
'Tis well remembered,  
You shall take your own way Madam.  Exeunt Lord and S. John. lacy. 
What strange lecture  
Will she read unto us?  Lady. 
Such as wisdom warrants  
From the Superior bodies. Is Stargaze ready  
With his several Schemes?  Millis. 
Yes Madam, and attends  
Your pleasure.  Exit Milliscent. lacy. 
Stargaze, Lady: What is he?  Lady. 
Call him in. You shall first know him, then admire him  
For a man of many parts, and those parts rare ones.  
he's every thing indeed, parcel Physician,  
And as such prescribes my diet, and foretells  
My dreams when I eat potatoes; parcel Poet,  
And sings Encomiums to my virtues sweetly;  
My Antecedent, or my Gentleman Usher;  
And as the stars move, with that due proportion  
He walks before me; but an absolute Master  
In the Calculation of Nativities;  
Guided by that never-erring science, called,  
Judicial Astrology.  Plenty. 
Stargaze! sure  
I have a penny Almanac about me  
Inscribed to you, as to his Patroness,  
In his name published.  Lady. 
Keep it as a jewel.  
Some States men that I will not name, are wholly  
Governed by his predictions, for they serve  
For any latitude in Christendom,  
as well as our own climate.  Enter Milliscent, and Stargaze, with two Schemes. Lady 
I believe so.  Plenty. 
Must we couple by the Almanac?  Lady. 
Be silent,  
And ere we do articulate, much more  
Grow to a full conclusion, instruct us  
Whether this day and hour, by the planets, promise  
Happy success in, marriage.  Stargaze. 
In omni  
Parte, & toto.  Plenty. 
Good learned Sir, in English.  
And since it is resolved we must be Coxcombs,  
Make us so in our own language.  Stargaze. 
You are pleasant:  
Thus in our vulgar tongue then.  Lady. 
Pray you observe him.  Stargaze. 
Venus in the West-angle, the house of marriage the  
7th house, in Trine of Mars, in Conjunction of Luna, and Mars  
Almuthen, or Lord of the Horoscope.  Plenty. 
Hoy day  Lady. 
The angel's language, I am ravished! forward.  Stargaze. 
Mars as I said Lord of the Horoscope, or geniture, in mutual reception of each other, she in her Exaltation, and he in his Triplicity trine, and face, assure a fortunate combination to Hymen. excellent prosperous and happy.  Lady. 
Kneel, and give thanks.  The Women kneel lacy. 
For what we understand not.  Plenty. 
And have as little faith in't.  Lady. 
Be credulous,  
To me 'tis Oracle.  Stargaze. 
Now for the sovereignty of my future Ladies, your daughters after they are married.  Plenty. 
Wearing the breeches you mean.  Lady. 
Touch that point home,  
It is a principal one, and with London Ladies  
Of main consideration.  Stargaze 
This is infallible: Saturn out of all dignities in his detriment and fall, combust: and Venus in the South-angle elevated above him, Lady of both their Nativities; in her essential, and accidental dignities; occidental from the Sun, oriental from the Angle of the East, in Cazini of the Sun, in her joy, and free from the malevolent beams of infortunes; in a sign commanding, and Mars in a constellation obeying, she fortunate, and he dejected, the disposers of marriage in the Radix of the native in feminine figures, argue foretell, and declare pre-eminence, rule, eminence ce and absolute sovereignty in women.  lacy. 
Is't possible!  Stargaze. 
'Tis drawn, I assure you, from the Aphorisms of the old Chaldeans;  
Zoroaster the first and greatest Magician,  
Mercurius Trismegistius, the later Ptolemy, and the everlasting  
Prognosticator, old Erra Pater.  Lady. 
Are you yet satisfied!  Plenty. 
In what?  Lady. 
That you  
Are bound to obey your Wives, it being so  
Determined by the stars, against whose influence  
There is no opposition.  Plenty. 
Since I must  
Be married by the Almanac, as I may be,  
'Twere requisite the services and duties  
Which, as you say, I must pay to my wife,  
Were set down in the Calendar.  lacy. 
With the date  
Of my Apprenticeship.  Lady. 
Make your demands;  
I'll sit as Moderatrix, if they press you  
With over hard conditions.  lacy. 
Mine hath the Van,  
I stand your charge, sweet.  Stargaze. 
Silence.  Anne. 
I require first  
(And that since 'tis in fashion with kind husbands,  
In civil manners you must grant) my will  
In all things whatsoever, and that will  
To be obeyed, not argued.  Lady. 
And good reason.  Plenty. 
A gentle Imprimis.  lacy. 
This in gross contains all;  
But your special Items, Lady.  Anne. 
When I am one  
(And you are honoured to be styled my husband)  
To urge my having my Page, my Gentleman-Usher;  
My Woman sworn to my secrets; my caroche  
Drawn by six Flanders Mares; my Coachman, Grooms,  
postilion, and Footmen.  lacy. 
Is there ought else  
To be demanded?  Anne. 
Yes Sir, mine own Doctor; French, and Italian Cooks;  
Musicians, Songsters,  
And a Chaplain that must preach to please my fancy;  
A friend at Court to place me at a Mask;  
The private Box took up at a new Play  
For me, and my retinue; a fresh habit,  
(Of a fashion never seen before) to draw  
The Gallants eyes that sit on the Stage upon me;  
Some decayed Lady for my Parasite,  
To flatter me, and rail at other Madams;  
And there ends my ambition.  lacy. 
Your desires  
Are modest, I confess.  Anne. 
These toys subscribed to,  
And you continuing an obedient Husband  
Upon all fit occasions, you shall find me  
A most indulgent Wife.  Lady. 
You have said, give place  
And hear your younger Sister.  Plenty. 
If she speak  
Her language, may the great Friend booted & spurred,  
With a scythe at his girdle, as the Scotchman says,  
Ride headlong down her throat.  lacy. 
Curse not the Judge  
Before you hear the sentence.  Mary. 
In some part  
My Sister hath spoke well for the City pleasures,  
But I am for the Countries, and must say  
Under correction in her demands  
She was too modest.  lacy. 
How like you this Exordium?  Plenty. 
Too modest, with a mischief I  Marry. 
Yes, too modest:  
I know my value, and prize it to the worth;  
My youth, my beauty.  Plenty. 
How your glass deceives you?  Mary. 
The greatness of the portion I bring with me,  
And the Sea of happiness that from me flows to you.  lacy. 
She bears up close.  Mary. 
And can you in your wisdom,  
Or rustical simplicity imagine,  
You have met some innocent Country girl, that never  
Looked further than her father's farm, nor knew more  
Than the price of corn in the Market; or at what rate  
Beef went a stone? that would survey your dairy,  
And bring in mutton out of Cheese, and butter?  
That could give directions at what time of the Moon  
To cut her Cocks, for (apons against Christmas,  
Or when to raise up Goslings?  Plenty. 
These are arts  
Would not misbecome you, though you should put in  
Obedience and duty.  Mary. 
Yes, and patience,  
To sit like a fool at home, and eye your thrashers;  
Then make provision for your slavering Round,  
When you come drunk from an Alehouse after hunting,  
With your Clowns and Comrades as if all were yours,  
You the Lord Paramount, and I the drudge;  
The case Sir, must be otherwise.  Plenty. 
How, I beseech you?  Mary. 
Marry thus. I will not like my Sister challenge  
What's useful, or superfluous from my Husband,  
That's base all o'er. mine shall receive from me,  
What I think fit. I'll have the State conveyed  
Into my hands; and be put to his pension,  
Which the wise viragoes of our climate practise,  
I will receive your rents.  Plenty. 
You shall be hanged first.  Mary. 
Make sale, or purchase. Nay I'll have my neighbours  
Instructed, when a passenger shall ask,  
Whose house is this? though you stand by to answer,  
The Lady Plenties. Or who owes this manner?  
The Lady Plenty. Whose sheep are these? whose oxen?  
The Lady Plenties.  Plenty. 
A plentiful Pox upon you  Marry. 
And when I have children, if it be enquired  
By a stranger whose they are, they shall still Echo  
My Lady Plenties? the Husband never thought on.  Plenty. 
In their begetting I think so.  Mary. 
Since you'll marry  
In the City for our wealth, in justice, we  
Must have the country's Sovereignty.  Plenty. 
And we nothing.  Mary. 
A nag of forty shillings, a couple of Spaniels,  
With a Sparhawk is sufficient, and these too,  
As you shall behave yourself, during my pleasure,  
I will not greatly stand on. I have said Sir,  
Now if you like me, so.  Lady. 
At my entreaty,  
The Articles shall be easier.  Plenty. 
Shall they i'faith?  
Like Bitch, like Whelps:  lacy. 
Use fair words.  Plenty. 
I cannot;  
I have read of a house of pride, and now I have found one:  
A whirl wind overturn it.  lacy. 
On these terms,  
Will your minxship be a Lady?  Plenty. 
A Lady in a morris,  
I'll wed a pedlar's punk first.  lacy. 
tinker's trull,  
A beggar without a smock.  Plenty. 
Let monsieur Almanac,  
Since he is so cunning with his Jacob's Staff,  
Find you out a Husband in a bowling Ally  lacy. 
The general pimp to a Brothel.  Plenty. 
Though that now,  
All the loose desires of man were raked up in me,  
And no means but thy Maidenhead left to quench'em,  
I would turn Cinders, or the next Sowgelder,  
On my life should libb me, rather than embrace thee.  Ann. 
Wooing do you call this?  Mary. 
A Bear-baiting rather.  Plenty. 
Were you worried, you deserve it, and I hope  
I shall live to see it.  lacy. 
I'll not rail, nor curse you,  
Only this; you are pretty peats, and your great portions  
Adds much unto your handsomeness, but as  
You would command your Husbands you are beggars,  
Deformed, and ugly.  Lady. 
Hear me.  Plenty. 
Not a word more.  Exeunt lacy and Plenty. Ann. 
I ever thought 'twould come to this.  Mary. 
we may  
Lead Apes in Hell for Husbands, if you bind us  
T' articulate thus with our suitors.  Both speak weeping. Stargaze. 
Now the Cloud breaks,  
And the Storm will fall on me.  Lady. 
You rascal, juggler.  She breaks his head, and beats him. Stargaze. 
Dear Madam.  Lady. 
Hold you intelligence with the Stars,  
And thus deceive me?  Stargaze. 
My art cannot err,  
If it does I'll burn my Astrolabe. In mine own Star  
I did fore see this broken head, and beating;  
And now your Ladyship sees, as I do feel it,  
It could not be avoided.  Lady. 
Did you?  Stargaze. 
Madam,  
Have patience but a week, and if you find not  
All my predictions true touching your daughters,  
And a change of fortune to yourself, a rare one,  
Turn me out of doors. These are not the men, the Planets  
Appointed for their Husbands, there will come  
Gallants of another metal.  Milliscent. 
Once more trust him.  Ann. and Mary. 
Do, Lady mother.  Lady. 
I am vexed, look to it;  
Turn o'er your books, if once again you fool me,  
You shall graze elsewhere: Come Girls.  Exeunt Stargaze. 
I am glad I scaped thus.   

Actus secundus, Scena tertia.  Enter Lord, and Sir John. Lord. 
THe plot shows very likely.  Sir John. 
I repose  
My principal trust in your Lordship; 'twill prepare  
The physic I intend to minister  
To my Wife, and Daughters.  Lord. 
I will do my parts  
To set it off to the life.  Enter lacy and Plenty. Sir John. 
It may produce  
A Scene of no vulgar mirth. Here come the Suitors;  
When we understand how they relish my Wife's humours,  
The rest is feasible.  Lord. 
Their looks are cloudy.  Sir John. 
How fits the wind? Are you ready to launch forth.  
Into this sea of marriage.  Plenty. 
Call it rather  
A Whirlpool of afflictions.  lacy. 
If you please  
To enjoin me to it, I will undertake  
To find the North-passage to the Indies sooner,  
Than plough with your proud Heifer.  Plenty. 
I will make  
A Voyage to Hell first.  Sir John. 
How, Sir?  Plenty. 
And court Proserpine  
In the fight of Pluto, his three headed Porter  
Cerberus standing by, and all the furies,  
With their whips to scourge me for't, then say, I Jeffrey  
Take your Mary for my Wife.  Lord. 
Why what's the matter?  lacy. 
The matter is, the mother, with your pardon,  
I cannot but speak so much, is a most insufferable,  
Proud, insolent Lady.  Plenty. 
And the daughter's worse.  
The dam in years had th'advantage to be wicked.  
But they were so in her belly.  lacy. 
I must tell you,  
With reverence to your wealth, I do begin  
To think you of the same leaven.  Plenty. 
Take my counsel;  
'Tis safer for your credit to profess  
yourself a Cuckold, and upon record,  
Then say they are your Daughters.  Sir John. 
You go too far Sir.  lacy. 
They have so Articled with us.  Plenty. 
And will not take us  
For their Husbands, but their slaves, and so aforehand  
They do profess they'll use us.  Sir John. 
Leave this heat:  
Though they are mine I must tell you, the perverseness  
Of their manners (which they did not take from me,  
But from their mother) qualified, they deserve  
Your equals.  lacy. 
True, but what's bred in the bone  
Admits no hope of cure:  Plenty. 
Though Saints, and Angels  
Were their Physicians.  Sir John. 
You conclude too fast.  Plenty. 
God bye you, I'll travail three years, but I'll bury  
This shame that lives upon me.  lacy. 
With your licence,  
I'll keep him company.  Lord. 
who shall furnish you,  
For your expenses?  Plenty. 
He shall not need your help,  
My purse is his, we were rivals, but now friends,  
And will live and die so.  lacy. 
ere we go I'll pay  
My duty as a son.  Plenty. 
And till then leave you.  Ext. Lscei and Plenty. Lord. 
They are strangely moved.  Sir John. 
What's wealth, accompanied  
With disobedience in a wife and children?  
My heart will break  Lord. 
Be comforted, and hope better;  
we'll ride abroad, the fresh air and discourse,  
May yield us new inventions.  Sir John. 
You are noble,  
And shall in all things, as you please command me.  Exeunt   


Actus tertius, Scena prima.  Enter Shaveem and Secret. Secret. 
DEad doings, Daughter.  Shave'm 
Doings! sufferings mother:  
Men have forgot what doing is;  
And such as have to pay for what they do,  
Are impotent, or Eunuchs.  Secret. 
You have a friend yet,  
And a striker too, I take it.  Music come down. Shaveem. 
Goldwire is so,  
And comes to me by stealth, and as he can steal, maintains me  
In clothes, I grant; but alas Dame, what's one friend?  
I would have a hundred for every hour, and use  
And change of humour I am in a fresh one.  
'Tis a flock of sheep that makes a lean Wolf fat,  
And not a single Lambkin. I am starved,  
Starved in my pleasures. I know not what a Coach is,  
To hurry me to the Burse, or old Exchange,  
The Neathouse for muskmelons, and the Gardens  
Where we traffic for Asparagus, are to me  
In the other world.  Secret. 
There are other places Lady.  
Where you might find customers.  Shaveem. 
You would have me fout it  
To the Dancing of the Ropes, sit a whole afternoon there  
In expectation of Nuts and Pippins;  
Gape round about me, and yet not find a Chapman  
That in courtesy will bid a chop of mutton,  
Or a pint of Drum-wine for me.  Secret. 
You are so impatient.  
But I can tell you news will comfort you,  
And the whole Sister hood.  Shavem. 
What's that?  Secret. 
I am told  
Two Ambassadors are come over. A French Monsieur,  
And a Venetian, one of the Clarissimi,  
A hot reined Marmosue. Their followers,  
For their country's honour after a long Vacation,  
Will make a full term with us.  Shavem. 
They indeed are  
Our certain and best customers: Who knocks there? Knock within.  Within Ramble. 
Open the door.  Secret. 
What are you?  Ramble. Within Ramble. Scuffle. Within Scuffle. Within Ramble. 
Your constant visitants.  Shaven. 
Let 'em not in.  
I know 'em swaggering, suburban roarers,  
Sixpenny truckers  Within Ramble. 
Down go all your windows,  
And your neighbours too shall suffer.  Within Scuffle. 
Force the doors.  Secret. 
They are outlaws, mistress Shavem, and there is  
No remedy against 'em, what should you fear?  
They are but men, lying at your close ward,  
You have foiled their betters.  Shavem. 
Out you bawd. You care not  
Upon what desperate service you employ me,  
Nor with whom, so you have your fee.  Secret. 
Sweet ladybird  
Sing a milder key.  Enter Ramble and Scuffle. Scuffle. 
Are you grown proud?  Ramble. 
I knew you a waistcoatier in the garden allies,  
And would come to a sailor's whistle.  Secret. 
Good Sir Ramble,  
Use her not roughly. she is very tender.  Ramble. 
Rank and rotten, is she not?  She draws her knife, Ramble his sword. Shavem. 
Your spital rogueships  
Shall not make me so.  Secret. 
As you are a man, Squire Scuffle,  
Step in between 'em. A weapon of that length  
Was ne'er drawn in my house.  Shavem. 
Let him come on,  
I'll scour it in your gut, you dog.  Ramble. 
You brach,  
Are you turned mankind. You forgot I gave you,  
When we last joined issue, twenty pound.  Shavem. 
o'er night,  
And kick it out of me in the morning. I was then  
A novice, but I know to make my game now.  
Fetch the Constable.  Enter Goldwire like a Justice of Peace, Dingem like a Constable, the Musicians like watch men. Secret. 
Ah me. Here's one unsent for,  
And a Justice of Peace too.  Shavem. 
I'll hang you both you rascals,  
I can but ride. You for the purse you cut  
In Powl's at a sermon. I have smoked you. And you for the bacon  
You took on the high way from the poor market woman  
As she rode from Rumford.  Ramble. 
Mistress Shavem.  Scuffle. 
Mistress Secret,  
On our knees we beg your pardon.  Scuffle. 
Set a ransom on us.  Secret. 
We cannot stand trifling. If you mean to save them,  
Shut them out at the backdoor.  Shavem. 
First for punishment  
They shall leave their cloaks behind 'em, and in sign  
I am their sovereign, and they my vassals,  
For homage kiss my shoe-sole rogues, and vanish.  Exeunt Ramble and Scuffle. Goldwire. 
My brave virago. The coasts clear. Strike up.  Shavem. 
My Goldwire made a Justice.  Goldwire, and the rest discovered. Secret. 
And your scout  
Turned Constable, and the Musicians watchmen.  Goldwire. 
We come not to fright you, but to make you merry.  
A light lavolta.  They dance. Shavem. 
I am tired. No more.  
This was your device.  Dingem. 
Wholly his own. He is  
No pig sconce Mistress.  Secret. 
He has an excellent head-piece  Goldwire. 
Fie no, not I: your jeering gallants say  
We Citizens have no wit.  Dingem. 
He dies that says so.  
This was a masterpiece.  Goldwire. 
A trifling stratagem,  
Not worth the talking of.  Shavem. 
I must kiss thee for it  
Again, and again.  Dingem. 
Make much of her. Did you know  
What suitors she had since she saw you.  Goldwire. 
I'the way of marriage.  Dingem. 
Yes Sir, for marriage, and the other thing too.  
The commodity is the same. An Irish Lord offered her.  
Five pound a week.  Secret. 
And a cashiered Captain, half  
Of his entertainment.  Dingem. 
And a new made Courtier.  
The next suit he could beg.  Goldwire. 
And did my sweet one  
Refuse all this for me?  Shavem. 
Weep not for joy,  
'Tis true. Let others talk of Lords, and Commanders,  
And country heirs for their servants; but give me  
My gallant prentice. He parts with his money  
So civilly, and demurely; keeps no account  
Of his expenses, and comes ever furnished.  
I know thou hast brought money to make up  
My gown and petticoat, with th'appurtenances.  Goldwire. 
I have it here Duck, thou shalt want for nothing.  Shavem. 
Let the chamber be perfumed, and get you Sirrah  
His cap, and pantables ready.  Goldwire. 
There's for thee,  
And thee. That for a banquet.  Secret. 
And a caudle  
Again you rise.  Goldwire. 
There.  Shavem. 
Usher us up in state.  Goldwire. 
You will be constant.  Exeunt wanton, Music played before'em Shavem. 
Thou art the whole world to me.   

Actus tertius, Scena secunda.  Enter Luke. Within Anne. 
WHere is this Uncle?  Within Lady. 
Call this Beadsman, brother: he hath forgot attendance.  Within Marry. 
Seek him out: idleness spoils him.  Luke. 
I deserve much more than their scorn can load me with, and 'tis but justice,  
That I should live the Family's drudge, designed  
To all the sordid offices their pride  
Imposes on me; since if now I sat  
A Judge in mine own cause, I should conclude  
I am not worth their pity: such as want  
Discourse, and judgement, and through weakness fall,  
May merit man's compassion; but I  
That knew profuseness of expense the parent  
Of wretched poverty, her fatal daughter,  
To riot out mine own, to live upon  
The alms of others! steering on a rock  
I might have shunned: O heaven! 'tis not fit  
I should look upward, much less hope for mercy.  Enter Lady, Anne, Marry, Stargaze, and Milliscent. Lady. 
What are you devising, Sir?  Anne. 
My Uncle is much given to his devotion.  Mary. 
And takes time to mumble  
A Pater noster to himself.  Lady. 
Know you where  
Your brother is? It better would become you  
(Your means of life depending wholly on him)  
To give your attendance.  Luke. 
In my will I do:  
But since he rode forth yesterday with Lord lacy,  
I have not seen him.  Lady. 
And why went not you  
By his stirrup? how do you look? were his eyes closed,  
You'd be glad of such employment.  Luke. 
'Twas his pleasure  
I should wait your command, and those I am ever  
Most ready to receive.  Lady. 
I know you can speak well,  
But say and do.  Enter Lord lacy with a Will. Luke. 
Here comes my Lord.  Lady. 
Further off:  
You are no companion for him, and his business  
Aims not at you, as I take it.  Luke 
Can I live in this base condition? aside  Lady. 
I hoped, my Lord,  
You had brought Mr. Frugal with you, for I must ask  
An account of him from you.  Lord. 
I can give it, Lady;  
But with the best discretion of a woman,  
And a strong fortified patience, I desire you  
To give it hearing  Luke. 
My heart beats.  Lady. 
My Lord, you much amaze me.  Lord. 
I shall astonish you. The noble Merchant,  
Who living was for his integrity  
And upright dealing (a rare miracle.  
In a rich Citizen) London's best honour;  
Is— I am loath to speak it.  Luke. 
Wondrous strange!  Lady. 
I do suppose the worst, not dead I hope?  Lord. 
Your supposition's true, your hopes are false:  
he's dead.  Lady. 
Ay me.  Anne 
My Father.  Mary. 
My kind Father.  Luke. 
Now they insult not.  Lord. 
Pray hear me out.  
he's dead. Dead to the world, and you. And now  
Lives only to himself.  Luke. 
What Riddle's this?  Lady. 
Act not the torturer in my afflictions;  
But make me understand the sum of all  
That I must undergo.  Lord. 
In few words take it;  
He is retired into a Monastery,  
Where he resolves to end his days.  Luke. 
More strange.  Lord. 
I saw him take post for Dover, and the wind  
Sitting so fair, by this he's safe at Calice,  
And ere long will be at Louvain.  Lady. 
Could I guess  
What were the motives that induced him to it,  
'Twere some allay to my sorrows.  Lord. 
I'll instruct you,  
And chide you into that knowledge: 'twas your pride  
Above your rank, and stubborn disobedience  
Of these your daughters, in their milk sucked from you:  
At home the harshness of his entertainment,  
You wilfully forgetting that your all  
Was borrowed from him; and to hear abroad  
The imputations dispersed upon you,  
And justly too, I fear, that drew him to  
This strict retirement: And thus much said for him;  
I am myself to accuse you.  Lady. 
I confess  
A guilty cause to him, but in a thought,  
My Lord, I ne'er wronged you.  Lord. 
In fact you have;  
The insolent disgrace you put upon  
My only Son, and Mr. Plenty; men, that loved  
Your daughters in a noble way, to wash off  
The scandal, put a resolution in 'em  
For three years' travel.  Lady. 
I am much grieved for it.  Lord. 
One thing I had forgot; your rigor to  
His decaied brother, in which your flatteries,  
Or sorceries, made him a coagent with you,  
Wrought not the least impression.  Luke. 
Humph! this sounds well.  Lady. 
'Tis now past help: after these storms, my Lord,  
A little calm, if you please.  Lord. 
If what I have told you  
Showed like a storm, what now I must deliver  
Will prove a raging tempest. His whole estate  
In lands and leases, debts and present moneys,  
With all the movables he stood possessed of,  
With the best advice which he could get for gold  
From his learned counsel, by this formal Will  
Is passed o'er to his brother. With it take  
The key of his counting house. Not a groat left you,  
Which you can call your own.  Lady. 
Undone for ever.  Ann. 
marry. What will become of us?  Luke. 
Humph!  Lord. 
The Scenes changed,  
And he that was your slave, by fate appointed  
Your governor, you kneel to me in vain,  
I cannot help you, I discharge the trust  
Imposed upon me. This humility  
From him may gain remission, and perhaps  
Forgetfulness of your barbarous usage to him.  Lady. 
Am I come to this.  Lord. 
Enjoy your own, good Sir,  
But use it with due reverence. I once heard you  
Speak most divinely in the opposition  
Of a revengeful humour, to these show it;  
And such who then depended on the mercy  
Of your brother wholly now at your devotion,  
And make good the opinion I held of you;  
Of which I am most confident.  Luke. 
Pray you rise,  
And rise with this assurance, I am still,  
As I was of late, your creature; and if raised  
In any thing, 'tis in my power to serve you,  
My will is still the same. O my Lord!  
This heap of wealth which you possess me of.  
Which to a worldly man had been a blessing,  
And to the messenger might with justice challenge  
A kind of adoration, is to me  
A curse, I cannot thank you for; and much less  
Rejoice in that tranquillity of mind,  
My brother's vows must purchase. I have made  
A dear exchange with him. He now enjoys  
My peace, and poverty, the trouble of  
His wealth conferred on me, and that a burden  
Too heavy for my weak shoulders.  Lord. 
Honest soul,  
With what feeling he receives it.  Lady. 
You shall have  
My best assistance, if you please to use it  
To help you to support it.  Luke. 
By no means,  
The weight shall rather sink me, than you part  
With one short minute from those lawful pleasures  
Which you were born to in your care to aid me,  
You shall have all abundance. In my nature  
I was ever liberal, my Lord you know it.  
Kind, affable. And now methinks I see  
Before my face the Jubilee of joy,  
When it is assured, my brother lives in me,  
His debtors in full cups crowned to my health,  
With Paeans to my praise will celebrate.  
For they well know 'tis far from me to take  
The forfeiture of a Bond. Nay I shall blush,  
The interest never paid after three years,  
When I demand my principal. And his servants  
Who from a slavish fear paid her obedience  
By him exacted; now when they are mine  
Will grow familiar friends, and as such use me,  
Being certain of the mildness of my temper,  
Which my change of fortune, frequent in most men  
Hath not the power to alter.  Lord. 
Yet take heed Sir  
You ruin it not with too much lenity,  
What his fit severity raised.  Lady. 
And we fall from  
That height we have maintained.  Luke. 
I'll build it higher,  
To admiration higher. With disdain  
I look upon these habits, no way suiting  
The wife, and daughters of a knighted Citizen  
Blessed with abundance.  Lord. 
There Sir, I join with you;  
A fit decorum must be kept, the Court  
Distinguished from the City.  Luke. 
With your favour  
I know what you would say, but give me leave  
In this to be your advocate. You are wide,  
Wide the whole region in what I purpose.  
Since all the titles, honours, long descents  
Borrow their gloss from wealth, the rich with reason  
May challenge their prerogatives. And it shall be  
My glory, nay a triumph to revive  
In the pomp that these shall shine, the memory  
Of the Roman matrons, who kept captive Queens  
To be their handmaids. And when you appear  
Like Juno in full majesty, and my Nieces  
Like Iris, Hebe, or what deities else  
Old poet's fancy; your crammed wardrobes richer  
Than various natures, and draw down the envy  
of our western world upon you, only hold me  
your vigilant Hermes with aerial wings,  
My Caduceus my strong zeal to serve you,  
Pressed to fetch in all rarities may delight you,  
And am made immortal.  Lord. 
A strange frenzy.  Luke. 
Off with these rags, and then to bed. There dream  
Of future greatness, which when you awake  
I'll make a certain truth: but I must be  
A doer, not a promiser. The performance  
Requiring host, I kiss your hands, and leave you.  Exit Luke. Lord. 
Are we all turned statues: have his strange words charmed us?  
What muse you on Lady?  Lady. 
Do not trouble me.  Lord. 
Sleep you too, young ones?  Anne. 
Swift winged time till now  
Was never tedious to me. Would 'twere night.  Mary. 
Nay morning rather.  Lord. 
Can you ground your faith  
On such impossibilities? have you so soon  
Forgot your good Husband?  Lady. 
He was a vanity  
I must no more remember.  Lord. 
Excellent!  
You your kind Father?  Anne. 
Such an Uncle never  
Was read of in story!  Lord. 
Not one word in answer  
Of my demands?  Mary. 
You are but a Lord, and know  
My thoughts soar higher.  Lord. 
Admirable! I will leave you  
To your Castles in the Air, when I relate this  
It will exceed belief, but he must know it.  Exit Lord. Stargaze. 
Now I may boldly speak: May it please you Madam,  
To look upon your Vassal; I foresaw this,  
The Stars assured it.  Lady. 
I begin to feel  
myself another woman.  Stargaze. 
Now you shall find  
All my predictions true, and nobler matches  
Prepared for my young Ladies.  Milliscent. 
Princely Husbands.  Anne. 
I'll go no less.  Mary. 
Not a word more,  
Provide my night-rail.  Millisc. 
What shall we be tomorrow.  Exeunt  

Actus tertius, Scena tertia.  Enter Luke with a key. Luke. 
'tWas no fantastic object, but a truth  
A real truth. Nor dream I did not slumber,  
And could wake ever with a brooding eye  
To gaze upon't! It did endure the touch,  
I saw, and felt it. Yet what I beheld  
And handled oft, did so transcend belief  
(My wonder, and astonishment passed o'er)  
I faintly could give credit to my senses.  
Thou dumb magician that without a charm  
Didst make my entrance easy, to possess  
What wise men wish, and toil for. Hermes Moly;  
Sybilla's golden bough; the great elixir,  
Imagined only by the Alchemist  
Compared with thee are shadows, thou the substance.  
And guardian of felicity. No marvel,  
My brother made thy place of rest his bosom,  
Thou being the keeper of his heart, a mistress  
To be hugged ever. In by corners of  
This sacred room, silver in bags heaped up  
Like billets sawed, and ready for the fire,  
Unworthy to hold fellowship with bright gold  
That flowed about the room, concealed itself.  
There needs no artificial light, the splendour  
Makes a perpetual day there, night and darkness  
By that still burning lamp for ever banished.  
But when guided by that, my eyes had made  
Discovery of the caskets, and they opened,  
Each sparkling diamond from itself shot forth  
A pyramid of flames, and in the roof  
Fix it a glorious Star, and made the place  
heaven's abstract, or Epitome. Rubies, Saphires, and ropes of Orient pearl; these seen I could not  
But look on with contempt, And yet I found  
What weak credulity could have no faith in  
A treasure far exceeding these, Here lay  
A manor bound fast in a skin of parchment,  
The wax continuing hard, the acres melting.  
Here a sure deed of gift for a market town,  
If not redeemed this day, which is not in  
The unthrists power. There being scarce one shire  
In Wales or England's where my moneys are not  
Lent out at usury, the certain hook  
To draw in more. I am sublimed! gross earth  
Supports me not. I walk on air! who's there  
Theius, raise the street, thieves!  Enter Lord, Sir John, lacy, and Plenty, as Indians. Lord. 
What strange passion's this?  
Have you your eyes? do you know me?  Luke. 
You, my Lord!  
I do: but this retinue, in these shapes too,  
May well excuse my fears. When 'tis your pleasure  
That I should wait upon you, give me leave  
To do it at your own house, for I must tell you,  
Things as they now are with me, well considered,  
I do not like such visitants.  Lord. 
Yesterday  
When you had nothing, praise your poverty for't,  
You could have sung secure before a thief;  
But now you are grown rich, doubts and suspicions,  
And needless fears possess you. Thank a good brother,  
But let not this exalt you.  Luke. 
A good brother:  
Good in his conscience, I confess, and wise,  
In giving o'er the world. But his estate  
Which your Lordship may conceive great, no way answers  
The general opinion. Alas,  
With a great charge, I am left a poor man by him.  Lord. 
A poor man, say you?  Luke. 
Poor, compared with what  
'Tis thought I do possess. Some little land,  
Fair household furniture; a few good debts,  
But empty bags I find: yet I will be  
A faithful Steward to his wife and daughters,  
And to the utmost of my power obey  
His will in all things  Lord. 
I'll not argue with you  
Of his estate, but bind you to performance  
Of his last request, which is for testimony  
Of his religious charity, that you would  
Receive these Indians, lately sent him from  
Virginia, into your house; and labour  
At any rate with the best of your endeavours,  
Assisted by the aids of our Divines,  
To make 'em Christians.  Luke. 
Call you this, my Lord,  
Religious charity? to send Infidel,  
Like hungry Locusts, to devour the bread  
Should feed his family. I neither can,  
Nor will consent to't.  Lord. 
Do not slight it, 'tis  
With him a business of such consequence,  
That should he only hear 'tis not embraced,  
And cheerfully, in this his conscience aiming  
At the saving of three souls, 'twill draw him o'er  
To see it himself accomplished.  Luke. 
Heaven forbid  
I should divert him from his holy purpose  
To worldly cares again. I rather will  
Sustain the burden, and with the converted  
Feast the converters, who I know will prove  
The greater feeders.  Sir John. 
Oh, ha, enewah Christ bully leika.  Plenty. 
Enaula.  Lacy. 
Harrico botikia bonnery.  Luke. 
Ha! In this heathen language,  
How is it possible our Doctors should  
Hold conference with 'em? or I use the means  
For their conversion?  Lord. 
That shall be no hindrance  
To your good purposes. They have lived long  
In the English Colony, and speak our language  
As their own Dialect; the business does concern you:  
Mine own designs command me hence. Continue,  
As in your poverty you were, a pious  
And honest man  Exit. Luke. 
That is, interpreted,  
A slave, and beggar.  Sir John. 
You conceive it right,  
There being no religion, nor virtue  
But in abundance, and no vice but want.  
All deities serve Plutus.  Luke. 
Oracle.  Sir John. 
Temples raised to ourselves in the increase  
Of wealth, and reputation, speak a wiseman;  
But sacrifice to an imagined power,  
Of which we have no sense, but in belief,  
A superstitious fool.  Luke. 
True worldly wisdom.  Sir John. 
All knowledge else is folly.  Laoie. 
Now we are yours,  
Be confident your better Angel is  
Entered your house.  Plenty. 
There being nothing in  
The compass of your wishes, but shall end  
In their fruition to the full.  Sir John. 
As yet,  
You do not know us, but when you understand  
The wonders we can do, and what the ends were  
That brought us hither, you will entertain us  
With more respect.  Luke. 
There's something whispers to me,  
These are no common men; my house is yours,  
Enjoy it freely: only grant me this,  
Not to be seen abroad till I have heard  
More of your sacred principles, pray enter.  
You are learned Europians, and we worse  
Than ignorant Americans.  Sir John. 
You shall find it.  Exeunt   


Actus quartus, Scena prima.  Enter Dingem, Gettall, and Holdfast. Dingem. 
NOt speak with him? with fear survey me better;  
Thou figure of famine.  Gettal. 
Coming, as we do,  
From his quondam patrons, his dear Ingles now,  
The brave spark Tradewell.  Dingem. 
And the man of men  
In the service of a woman, gallant Goldwire.  Enter Luke. Holdfast. 
I know'em for his prentices without  
These flourishes. Here are rude fellows Sir.  Dingem. 
Not yours, you rascal?  Holdfast. 
No, Don pimp: you may seek'em  
In Bridewell, or the hole, here are none of your comrogues.  Luke. 
One of 'em looks as he would cut my throat:  
Your business, friends?  Holdfast. 
I'll fetch a constable,  
Let him answer him in the Stocks.  Dingem. 
Stir and thou dar'st.  
Fright me with Bridewell and the Stocks? they are flea-bitings  
I am familiar with  Luke. 
Pray you put up.  
And sirrah hold your peace.  Dingem. 
Thy words a law,  
And I obey. Live scrape-shoo, and be thankful.  
Thou man of muck, and money, for as such  
Know salute thee. The Suburban gamesters  
Have heard thy fortunes, and I am in person sent to congratulate.  Gettal. 
The news hath reached  
The ordinaries, and all the gamesters are  
Ambitious to shake the golden golls  
Of worshipful Mr. Luke. I come from Tradewell  
Your fine facetious factor  Dingem. 
I from Goldwire.  
He and his Helen have prepared a banquet  
With the appurtenances to entertain thee,  
For I must whisper in thine ear, thou art  
To be her Paris, but bring money with thee  
To quit old scores.  Gettall. 
Blind chance hath frowned upon  
Brave Tradewell. he's blown up, but not without  
Hope of recovery, so you supply him  
With a good round sum. In my house I can assure you  
There's half a million stirring.  Luke. 
What hath he lost?  Gettal. 
Three hundred.  Luke. 
A trifle.  Gettall. 
Make it up a thousand,  
And I will fit him with such tools as shall  
Bring in a myriad.  Luke. 
They know me well,  
Nor need you use such circumstances for'em.  
What's mine is theirs. They are my friends, not servants;  
But in their care to enrich me, and these courses  
The speeding means. Your name, I pray you?  Gett. 
Gettall;  
I have been many years an Ordinary-keeper,  
My Box my poor Revenue.  Luke. 
Your name suits well  
With your profession. Bid him bear up, he shall not  
Sit 'ong on penniless-bench.  Gettall. 
There spoke an Angel.  Luke. 
You know Mistress Shave'm?  Gettall. 
The Pontifical Punk.  Luke. 
The same. Let him meet me there some two hours hence,  
And tell Tom Goldwire I will then be with him,  
Furnished beyond his hopes, and let your Mistress  
Appear in her best trim.  Dinge'm. 
She will make thee young,  
Old AEson. She is ever furnished with  
Medea's Drugs, Restoratives. I fly  
To keep 'em sober till thy worship come,  
They will be drunk with joy else.  Gettall. 
I'll run with you.  Exeunt Ding'em and Gettall. Holdfast. 
You will not do as you say, I hope.  Luke. 
Inquire not,  
I shall do what becomes me— to the door. Knocking.  
New Visitants: What are they?  Holdfast. 
A whole batch, Sir,  
Almost of the same leaven: your needy Debtors,  
Penury, Fortune, Hoyst.  Luke. 
They come to gratulate  
The fortune fallen upon me.  Holdfast. 
Rather, Sir,  
Like the others, to prey on you.  Luke. 
I am simple,  
They know my good nature. But let 'em in however.  Holdf. 
All will come to ruin, I see beggary  
Already knocking at the door. You may enter—  
But use a conscience, and do not work upon  
A tender-hearted Gentleman too much,  
'Twill show like charity in you.  Enter Fortune, Penury and Hoyst. Luke. 
Welcome Friends:  
I know your hearts, and wishes; you are glad  
You have changed your Creditor.  Penury. 
I weep for joy  
To look upon his worship's face.  Fortune. 
His Worships?  
I see Lord Major written on his forehead;  
The Cap of Maintenance, and City Sword  
Born up in state before him.  Hoyst. 
Hospitals,  
And a third Burse erected by his Honour.  Penury. 
The City Poet on the Pageant-day  
Preferring him before Gresham.  Hoyst. 
All the Conduits  
Spouting Canary Sack.  Fortune. 
Not a prisoner left,  
Under ten pounds.  Penury. 
We his poor Beadsmen feasting  
Our neighbours on his bounty.  Luke. 
May I make good  
Your prophecies, gentle friends, as I'll endeavour  
To the utmost of my power.  Holdf. 
Yes, for one year,  
And break the next.  Luke. 
You are ever prating, Sirrah:  
Your present business, friends?  Fortune. 
Were your brother present,  
Mine had been of some consequence; but now  
The power lies in your worship's hand, 'tis little,  
And will I know, as soon as asked, be granted.  Luke. 
'I is very probable.  Fortune. 
The kind forbearance  
Of my great debt, by your means, heaven praised for't,  
Hath raised my sunk estate. I have two Ships,  
Which I long since gave lost, above my hopes  
Returned from Barbary, and richly freighted.  Luke. 
Where are they?  Fortune. 
Near Gravesend.  Luke. 
I am truly glad of't.  Fortune. 
I find your worship's charity, and dare swear so.  
Now may I have your licence, as I know  
With willingness I shall, to make the best  
Of the commodities, though you have execution,  
And after judgement against all that's mine,  
As my poor body, I shall be enabled  
To make payment of my debts to all the world,  
And leave myself a competence.  Luke. 
You much wrong me,  
If you only doubt it. Yours Mr. Hoyst.  Hoyst 
'Tis the surrendering back the mortgage of  
My lands, and on good terms, but three days' patience;  
By an Uncle's death I have means lest to redeem it,  
And cancel all the forfeited Bonds I sealed too  
In my riots to the Merchant, for I am  
Resolved to leave off play, and turn good husband.  Luke. 
A good intent, and to be cherished in you.  
Yours Penury.  Penury. 
My state stands as it did, Sir:  
What I owed I owe, but can pay nothing to you.  
Yet if you please to trust me with ten pounds more,  
I can buy a commodity of a Sailor  
Will make me a freeman. There Sir is his name;  
And the parcels I am to deal for. Gives him a paper.  Luke. 
You are all so reasonable  
In your demands, that I must freely grant 'em.  
Some three hours hence meet me on the Exchange,  
You shall be amply satisfied.  Penury. 
Heaven preserve you.  Fortune. 
Happy were London if within her walls  
She had many such rich men.  Exeunt Fortune, Hoyst. and Penury. Luke. 
No more, now leave me;  
I am full of various thoughts. Be careful Holdfast  
I have much to do.  Holdfast. 
And I something to say  
Would you give me hearing.  Luke. 
At my better leisure  
Till my return, look well unto the Indians.  
In the mean time do you as this directs you.  Exeunt  

Actus quartus, Scena secunda.  Enter Goldwire, Tradewell. Shavem, Secret, Gettal, and Dingem. Goldwire. 
ALl that is mine is theirs. Those were his words  Dingem. 
I am authentical.  Tradewell. 
And that I should not  
Sit long on penniless bench.  Gettall. 
But suddenly start up  
A gamester at the height, and cry at all.  Shavem. 
And did he seem to have an inclination  
To toy with me?  Dingem. 
He wished you would put on  
Your best habiliments, for he resolved  
To make a jovial day on't.  Goldwire. 
Hug him close wench,  
And thou may't'it eat gold, and amber. I well know him  
For a most insatiate drabber. He hath given,  
Before he spent his own estate, which was  
Nothing to the huge mass he's now possessed of,  
A hundred pound a leap.  Shavem. 
Hell take my Doctor,  
He should have brought me some fresh oil of Talk,  
These Ceruses are common.  Secret. 
Troth sweet Lady,  
The colours are well laid on.  Goldwire. 
And thick enough,  
find that on my lips.  Shavem. 
Do you so, Jack sauce.  
I'll keep'em further of.  Goldwire. 
But be assured first  
Of a new maintainer ere you cashier the old one.  
But bind him fast by thy sorceries, and thou shalt  
Be my revenue; the whole college study,  
The reparation of thy ruined face;  
Thou shalt have thy proper and bald-headed Coachman:  
Thy Tailor, and Embroiderer shall kneel  
To thee their Idol. Cheapside and the Exchange shall court thy custom, and thou shalt forget  
There ever was a Saint Martin's. Thy procurer  
Shall be sheathed in Velvet, and a reverend veil  
Pass her for a grave Marton. Have an eye to the door,  
And let loud music when this Monarch enters  
Proclaim his entertainment.  Dinge'm. 
That's my office.  
The Consort's ready.  Cornets flor. Enter Luke. Tradewell. 
And the god of pleasure  
Mr. Luke our Comus enters.  Goldwire. 
Set your face in order,  
I will prepare him. Live I to see this day,  
And to acknowledge you my royal master?  Tradewell. 
Let the iron Chests fly open, and the gold  
Rusty for want of use appear again.  Gettall. 
Make my ordinary flourish.  Shave'm. 
Welcome, Sir,  
To your own Palace.  Music. Goldwire. 
Kiss your Cleopatra,  
And show yourself in your magnificent bounties  
A second Anthony.  Dinge'm. 
All the Nine Worthies.  Secret. 
Variety of pleasures wait on you.  
And a strong back.  Luke. 
Give me leave to breath, I pray you.  
I am astonished! all this preparation  
For me? and this choice modest beauty wrought  
To feed my appetite.  All. 
We are all your creatures.  Luke. 
A house well furnished.  Goldwire. 
At your own cost, Sir.  
Glad I the Instrument. I prophesied  
You should possess what now you do, and therefore  
Prepared it for your pleasure. There's no rag  
This Venus wears, but on my knowledge was  
Derived from your brother's Cash. The Lease of the house  
And Furniture, cost near a thousand, Sir.  Shave'm. 
But now you are master both of it and me.  
I hope you'll build elsewhere.  Luke. 
And see you placed  
Fair one to your desert. As I live, friend Tradewell,  
I hardly knew you, your clothes so well become you.  
What is your loss; speak truth?  Tradewell. 
300, Sir.  Gettall. 
But on a new supply he shall recover  
The sum told twenty times o'er.  Shav'm. 
There is a banquet,  
And after that a soft Couch that attends you.  Luke. 
I couple not in the daylight. Expectation  
Heightens the pleasure of the night, my sweet one  
Your music's harsh, discharge it: I have provided  
A better Comfort, and you shall frolic it  
In another place.  Cease music. Goldw. 
But have you brought gold, and store Sir?  Tradew. 
I long to wear the Caster.  Goldw. 
I to appear  
In a fresh habit.  Shave'm. 
My Mercer and my Silkman  
Waited me two hours since.  Luke. 
I am no Porter  
To carry so much gold as will supply  
Your vast desires, but I have ta'en order for you,  Enter Sheriff, Marshal, and Officers. 
You shall have what is fitting, and they come here will see it performed. Do your offices: You have  
My Lord Chief Justices Warrant for't.  Sheriff. 
Seize 'em all.  Shave'm. 
The city-marshal!  Goldwire. 
And the Sheriff. I know him.  Secret. 
We are betrayed.  Dinge'm. 
Undone.  Gettall. 
Dear M. Luke.  Goldwire. 
You cannot be so cruel: your persuasion  
Chid us into these courses, oft repeating,  
Show yourselves City-sparks, and hang up money.  Luke. 
True, when it was my brothers I contemned it,  
But now it is mine own, the case is altered.  Tradewel. 
Will you prove yourself a devil? tempt us to mischief,  
And then discover it.  Luke. 
Argue that hereafter.  
In the mean time, M. Goldwire, you that made  
Your ten pound suppers; kept your punks at livery  
In Brainford, Stanes, and Barnet; and this in London.  
Held correspondence with your fellow-cashers,  
Ka me, ka thee; And knew in your accompis  
To cheat my brother, if you can evade me,  
If there be law in London your father's Bonds  
Shall answer for what you are out.  Goldwire. 
You often told us  
It was a bugbear.  Luke. 
Such a one as shall fright'em  
Out of their estates to make me satisfaction,  
To the utmost scruple. And for you Madam,  
My Cleopatra, by your own confession  
Your house, and all your movables are mine;  
Nor shall you, nor your Matron need to trouble  
Your Mercer, or your Silkman; a blue gown,  
And a whip to boot, as I will handle it  
Will serve the turn in Bridewell, and these soft hands,  
When they are enured to beating hemp, be scoured  
In your penitent tears, and quite forget  
Powders, and bitter almonds.  Shavem, Secret, Dingem. 
Will you show no mercy?  Luke. 
I am inexorable.  Gettall. 
I'll make bold  
To take my leave, the gamesters stay my coming.  Luke. 
We must not part so, gentle M. Gettal.  
Your box, your certain income, must pay back  
Three hundred as I take it, or you lie by it.  
There's half a million stirring in your house,  
This a poor trifle, Mr. sheriff, and M. Marshal  
On your perils do your offices.  Goldwire. 
Dost thou cry now  
Like a maudlin gamester after loss? I'll suffer  
Like a Roman, and now in my misery,  
In scorn of all thy wealth, to thy teeth tell thee  
Thou were't my pander.  Luke. 
Shall I hear this from  
My prentice?  Marshal. 
Stop his mouth.  Sheriff. 
Away with'em. Exeunt Sheriff, Marshal, and the rest  Luke. 
A prosperous omen in my entrance to  
My altered nature. These house-thieves removed,  
And what was lost, beyond my hopes recovered,  
Will add unto my heap. Increase of wealth  
Is the rich man's ambition, and mine  
Shall know no bounds. The valiant Macedon  
Having in his conceit subdued one world,  
Lamented that there were no more to conquer: in my way he shall be my great example.  
And when my private house in crammed abundance  
Shall prove the chamber of the City poor,  
And genoese bankers shall look pale with envy  
When I am mentioned, I shall grieve there is  
No more to be exhausted in one Kingdom.  
Religion, conscience, charity, farewell.  
To me you are words only, and no more,  
All humane happiness consists in store.  Exit.  

Actus quartus, Scena tertia.  Enter Sergeants, Fortune, Hoyst, Penury. Fortune. 
A T M. Luke's suit? the action twenty thousand?  1 Sergeant. 
With two or three executions, which shall grind  
You to powder when we have you in the Counter.  Fortune. 
Thou dost belie him varlet. He, good gentleman,  
Will weep when he hears how we are used.  1 Serjeant. 
Yes millstones.  Penury. 
He promised to lend me ten pound for a bargain,  
He will not do it this way.  2 Sergeant. 
I have warrant  
For what I have done. You are a poor fellow,  
And there being little to be got by you,  
In charity, as I am an officer,  
I would not have seen you, but upon compulsion,  
And for mine own security.  3 Sergeant. 
You are a gallant,  
And I do you a courtesy; provided  
That you have money. For a piece an hour  
I'll keep you in the house, till you send for bail.  2 Sergeant. 
In the mean time yeoman run to the other Counter,  
And search if there be aught else out against him.  3 Segeant. 
That Done, haste to his creditors. he's a prize,  
And as we are City pirates by our oaths,  
We must make the best on't.  Hoyst. 
Do your worst, I care not.  
I'll be removed to the Fleet, and drink and drab there  
In spite of your teeth. I now repent I ever  
Intended to be honest  Enter Luke. 3 Sergeant. 
Here he comes  
You had best tell so.  Fortune. 
Worshipful Sir,  
You come in time to free us from these bandogs.  
I know you gave no way to't.  Penury. 
Or if you did,  
'T was but to try our patience.  Hoyst. 
I must tell you  
I do not like such trials.  Luke. 
Are you Sergeants  
Acquainted with the danger of a rescue,  
Yet stand here prating in the street. The Counter  
Is a safer place to parley in.  Fortune. 
Are you in earnest?  Luke. 
Y s faith, I will be satisfied to a token,  
Or build upon't you rot there.  Fortune. 
Can a gentleman,  
Of your soft and silken temper, speak such language?  Penury. 
So honest, so religious.  Hoyst. 
That preached  
So much of charity for us to your brother?  Luke. 
Yes when I was in poverty it showed well,  
But I inherit with his state, his mind,  
And rougher nature. I grant, than I talked  
For some ends to myself concealed, of pity,  
The poor man's orisons; and such like nothing.  
But what I thought you all shall feel, and with rigor.  
Kind M. Luke says it. who pays for your attendance?  
Do you wait gratis?  Fortune. 
Hear us speak.  Luke. 
While I,  
Like the Adder stop mine ears. Or did I listen,  
Though you spoke with the tongues of Angels to me  
I am not to be altered.  Fortune. 
Let me make the best  
Of my ships, and their freight.  Penury. 
Lend me the ten pounds you promised.  Hoyst. 
A day or two's patience to redeem my mortgage,  
And you shall be satisfied.  Fortune. 
To the utmost farthing.  Luke. 
I'll show some mercy; which is, that I will not  
Torture you with false hopes, but make you know  
What you shall trust to. Your Ships to my use  
Are seized on. I have got into my hands  
Your bargains from the Sailor, 'twas a good one  
For such a petty sum. I will likewise take  
The extremity of your Mortgage, and the forfeit:  
Of your several Bonds, the use, and principle  
Shall not serve. Think of the basket, wretches,  
And a Coal-sack for a winding-sheet.  Fortune. 
Broker.  Hoyst. 
jew.  Fortune. 
Imposer.  Hoyst. 
Cutthroat.  Fortune. 
Hypocrite.  Luke. 
Do, rail on.  
Move mountains with your breath, it shakes not me,  Penury. 
On my knees I beg compassion my wife and children  
Shall hourly pray for your worship.  Fortune. 
Mine betake thee  
To the Devil thy tutor.  Penury. 
Look upon my tears.  Hoyst. 
My rage.  Fortune. 
My wrongs.  Luke. 
They are all a like to me.  
entreats, curses, prayers, or imprecations.  
Do your duties Sergeants, I am else where looked for.  Exit Luke. 3. Segeant. 
This your kind creditor?  2. Segeant. 
A vast villain rather.  Penury. 
See, see, the Sergeants pity us. Yet he's marble.  Hoist. 
Buried alive!  Fortune. 
There's no means to avoid it.  Exeunt  

Actus quartus, Scena quarta.  Enter Holdfast, Stargaze, and Milliscent. Stargaze. 
NOt wait upon my Lady?  Holafast. 
Nor come at her,  
You find it not in your almanac.  Milliscent. 
Nor I have licence  
To bring her breakfast.  Holdfast. 
My new master hath  
Decreed this for a fasting day. She hath feasted long  
And after a carnival Lent ever follows.  Milliscent. 
Give me the key of her wardrobe. You'll repent this:  
I must know what Gown she'll wear;  Holdfast. 
You are mistaken,  
Dame president of the sweet meats. she and her daughters  
Are turned Philosophers, and must carry all.  
Their wealth about 'em. They have clothes laid in their chamber,  
If they please to put 'em on, and without help too,  
Or they may walk naked. You look M. Stargaze  
As you had seen a strange comet, and had now foretold,  
The end of the world, and on what day. And you,  
As the wasps had broke into the galley-pots,  
And eaten up your Apricots.  Within Lady. 
Stargaze. Milliscent.  Milliscent. 
My Lady's voice.  Holdfast. 
Stir not, you are confined here.  
Your Ladyship may approach them if you please,  
But they are bound in this circle.  Within Lady. 
Mine own bees  
Rebel against me. When my kind brother knows this  
I will be so revenged.  Holdfast. 
The world's well altered.  
he's your kind brother now. but yesterday  
Your slave and jesting-stock.  Enter Lady, Anne, Marry, in course habit weeping. Milliscent. 
What witch hath transformed you?  Starg. 
Is this the glorious shape your cheating brother  
Premised you should appear in?  Milliscent. 
My young Ladies  
In buffin gowns, and green aprons! tear'em off,  
Rather show all then be seen thus.  Holdfast. 
'Tis more comely  
I wis then their other whim-whams.  Millis. 
A french hood too;  
Now 'tis out of fashion, a fool's cap would show better  Lady. 
We are fooled indeed, by whose command are we used thus?  Enter Luke. Holdf. 
Here he comes that can best resolve you.  Lady. 
O good brother!  
Do you thus preserve your protestation to me?  
Can Queens envy this habit? or did Juno  
e'er feast in such a shape?  Anne. 
You talked of Hebe,  
Of Iris, and I know not what; but were they  
Dressed as we are; They were sure some chandler's daughters  
Bleaching linen in moorfield's.  Mary. 
Or Exchange-wenches,  
Coming from eating pudding-pies on a Sunday  
At Pemlico, or Islington.  Luke. 
Save you Sister.  
I now dare style you so: you were before  
Too glorious to be looked on; now you appear  
Like a City Matron, and my pretty Nieces  
Such things as were born, and bred there. Why should you ape  
The fashions of Court-Ladies? whose high titles  
And pedigrees of long descent, give warrant  
For their superfluous bravery? 'twas monstrous:  
Till now you ne'er looked lovely.  Lady. 
Is this spoken  
In scorn?  Luke. 
Fie, no, with judgement. I make good  
My promise, and now show you like yourselves,  
In your own natural shapes, and stand resolved  
You shall continue so.  Lady. 
It is confessed Sir.  Luke. 
Sir! Sirrah. Use your old phrase, I can bear it.  Lady. 
That if you please forgotten. We acknowledge  
We have deserved ill from you, yet despair not;  
Though we are at your disposure, you'll maintain us  
Like your brother's wife, and daughters.  Luke. 
'Tis my purpose.  Lady. 
And not make us ridiculous.  Luke. 
Admired rather,  
As fair examples for our proud City dames,  
And their proud brood to imitate: do not frown  
If you do, I laugh, and glory that I have  
The power in you to scourge a general vice,  
And rise up a new Satirist: but hear gently,  
And in a gentle phrase I'll reprehend  
Your late disguised deformity, and cry up  
This decency, and neatness, with th'advantage  
You shall receive by 't.  Lady. 
We are bound to hear you.  Luke. 
With a soul inclined to learn. Your father was  
An honest Country farmer. Goodman Humble,  
By his neighbours ne'er called master. Did your pride  
Descend from him? but let that pass: your fortune,  
Or rather your husband's industry, advanced you  
To the rank of a Merchant's wife. He made a Knight,  
And your sweet mistress-ship, Ladyfied; you wore  
Satin on solemn days, a chain of gold,  
A Velvet hood, rich borders, and sometimes  
A dainty Miniver cap, a silver pin  
Headed with a pearl worth threepence, and thus far  
You were privileged, and no man envied it,  
It being for the City's honour, that  
There should be a distinction between  
The Wife of a Patrician, and plebeian.  Millis. 
Pray you leave preaching, or choose some other text;  
Your Rhetoric is too moving, for it makes  
Your auditory weep.  Luke. 
Peace, chattering magpie,  
I'll treat of you anon: but when the height  
And dignity of London's blessings grew  
Contemptible, and the name Lady mayoress  
Became a byword, and you scorned the means  
By which you were raised, my brother's fond indulgence  
Giving the reigns too't; and no object pleased you  
But the glittering pomp, and bravery of the Court.  
What a strange, nay monstrous Metamorphosis followed!  
No English workman then could please your fancy;  
The French, and Tuscan dress your whole discourse;  
This bawd to prodigality entertained  
To buzz into your ears, what shape this Countess  
Appeared in the last mask; and how it drew  
The young Lords eyes upon her; and this usher  
Succeeded in the eldest prentices place  
To walk before you.  Lady. 
Pray you end.  Holdfast. 
Proceed Sir,  
I could fast almost a prenticeship to hear you.  
You touch'em so to the quick.  Luke. 
Then as I said,  
The reverend hood cast off, your borrowed hair  
Powdered, and curled, was by your dressers art  
Formed like a Coronet, hanged with diamonds,  
And the richest Orient pearl: Your Carkanets  
That did adorn your neck of equal value:  
Your Hungerland bands, and Spanish quellio russes:  
Great Lords and Ladies feasted to survey  
Embroidered petticoats: and sickness feigned  
That your night rails of forty pounds a piece  
Might be seen with envy of the visitants;  
Rich pantables in ostentation shown,  
And roses worth a family; you were served in plate;  
Stirred not a foot without your Coach. And going  
To Church not for devotion, but to show  
Your pomp, you were tickled when the beggars cried  
Heaven save your honour, this idolatry  
Paid to a painted room.  Holdfast. 
Nay, you have reason  
To blubber all of you  Luke. 
And when you lay  
In child bed, at the Christening of this minx,  
I well remember it, as you had been  
An absolute princess, since they have no more,  
Three several chambers hung. The first with Arras,  
And that for waiters; the second crimson Satin  
For the meaner sort of guests; the third of Scarlet,  
Of the rich tyrian die; a Canopy  
To cover the brats cradle: you in state  
Like Pompie's Julia.  Lady. 
No more I pray you.  Luke. 
Of this be sure you shall not. I'll cut off  
whatever is exorbitant in you,  
Or in your Daughters, and reduce you to  
Your natural forms, and habits: not in revenge  
Of your base usage of me, but to fright  
Others by your example: 'Tis decreed  
You shall serve one another, for I will  
Allow no waiter to you. Out of doors  
With these useless drones,  Whilst the Act Plays, the Footstep, little Table, and Arras hung up for the Musicians. Holdfast. 
Will you pack?  Milliscent. 
Not till I have  
My trunks along with me.  Luke. 
Not a rag, you came  
Hither without a box.  Stargaze. 
You'll show to me  
I hope Sir more compassion.  Holdfast. 
'Troth I'll be  
Thus far a suitor for him. He hath printed  
An Almanac for this year at his own charge,  
Let him have th'impression with him to set up with.  Luke. 
For once I'll be entreated: let it be  
Thrown to him out of the window.  Stargaze. 
O cursed Stars  
That reigned at my nativity! how have you cheated  
Your poor observer.  Anne. 
Must we part in tears?  Mary. 
Farewell, good Milliscent.  Lady. 
I am sick, and meet with  
A rough Physician. O my pride! and scorn!  
How justly am I punished!  Mary. 
Now we suffer  
For our stubbornness and disobedience  
To our good father.  Anne. 
And the base conditions,  
We imposed upon our Suitors.  Luke. 
Get you in,  
And caterwaul in a corner.  Lady, Anne, Marry, go off at one door; Stargaze and Millisc. at the other. Lady. 
There's no contending.  Luke. 
How lik'st thou my carriage, Holdfast?  Holdfast. 
Well in some part,  
But it relishes I know not how, a little  
Of too much tyranny.  Luke. 
Thou art a fool:  
he's cruel to himself, that dares not be  
Severe to those that used him cruelly.  Exeunt?   


Actus quintus, Scena prima.  Enter Luke, Sir John, lacy and Plenty. Luke. 
YOu care not then, as it seems, to be converted  
To our religion.  Sir John. 
We know no such word,  
Nor power but the Devil, and him we serve for fear,  
Not love.  Luke. 
I am glad that charge is saved.  Sir John. 
We put  
That trick upon your brother, to have means  
To come to the City. Now to you we'll discover  
The close design that brought us, with assurance  
If you lend your aids to furnish us with that  
Which in the Colony was not to be purchased,  
No merchant ever made such a return  
For his most precious venture, as you shall  
Receive from us; far, far, above your hopes,  
Or fancy to imagine.  Musicians come down to make ready for the song at Aras. Luke. 
It must be  
Some strange commodity, and of a dear value,  
(Such an opinion is planted in me,  
You will deal fairly) that I would not hazard.  
Give me the name of't.  lacy. 
I fear you will make  
Some scruple in your conscience to grant it.  Luke. 
Conscience! No, no; so it may be done with safety,  
And without danger of the Law.  Plenty. 
For that  
You shall sleep securely. Nor shall it diminish,  
But add unto your heap such an increase,  
As what you now possess shall appear an Atom  
To the mountain it brings with it.  Luke. 
Do not rack me  
With expectation.  Sir John. 
Thus then in a word:  
The Devil. Why start you at his name? if you  
Desire to wallow in wealth and worldly honours,  
You must make haste to be familiar with him.  
This Devil, whose Priest I am, and by him made  
A deep Magician (for I can do wonders)  
Appeared to me in Virginia, and commanded  
With many stripes (for that's his cruel custom)  
I should provide on pain of his fierce wrath  
Against the next great sacrifice, at which  
We grovelling on our faces, fall before him,  
Two Christian Virgins, that with their pure blood  
Might die his horrid Altars, and a third  
(In his hate to such embraces as are lawful)  
Married, and with your ceremonious rites  
As an oblation unto Hecate,  
And wanton Lust her favourite.  Luke. 
A devilish custom:  
And yet why should it startle me? there are  
Enough of the Sex fit for't his use: but Virgins,  
And such a Matron as you speak of, hardly to be wrought to it.  Plenty. 
A Mine of Gold for a fee  
Waits him that undertakes it, and performs it.  lacy. 
Know you no distressed Widow, or poor  
Maids, whose want of dower, though well born,  
Makes'em weary of their own Country?  Sir John. 
Such as had rather be  
Miserable in another world, then where  
They have surfeited in felicity?  Luke. 
Give me leave,  
I would not lose this purchase. A grave Matron!  
And two pure virgins. Umph! I think my Sister  
Though proud was ever honest; and my nieces  
Untainted yet. Why should not they be shipped  
For this employment? they are burden some to me,  
And eat too much. And if they stay in London,  
They will find friends that to my loss will force me  
To composition. 'Twere a Masterpiece  
If this could be effected. They were ever  
Ambitious of title. Should I urge  
Matching with these they shall live Indian Queens,  
It may do much. But what shall I feel here,  
Knowing to what they are designed? They absent,  
The thought of them will leave me. It shall be so.  
I'll furnish you, and to endear the service  
In mine own family, and my blood too.  Sir John. 
Make this good, and your house shall not  
Contain the gold we'll send you.  Luke. 
You have seen my Sister, and my two Nieces?  Sir John. 
Yes Sir.  Luke. 
These persuaded  
How happily they shall live, and in what pomp  
When they are in your kingdoms, for you must  
Work'em a belief that you are Kings.  Plenty. 
We are so.  Luke. 
I'll put it in practice instantly. Study you  
For moving language. Sister, Nieces. How  Enter Lady, Ann, Marry. 
Still mourning? dry your eyes, and clear these clouds  
That do obscure your beauties. Did you believe  
My personated reprehension; though  
It showed like a rough anger, could be serious?  
Forget the fright I put you in. My ends  
In humbling you was, to set off the height  
Of honour, principle honour, which my studies  
When you least expect it shall confer upon you.  
Still you seem doubtful: be not wanting to  
yourselves, nor let the strangeness of the means,  
With the shadow of some danger, render you  
Incredulous.  Lady. 
Our usage hath been such,  
As we can faintly hope that your intents,  
And language are the same.  Luke. 
I'll change those hopes  
To certainties.  Sir John. 
With what art he winds about them!  Luke. 
What will you say? or what thanks shall I look for?  
If now I raise you to such eminence, as  
The wife, and daughters of a Citizen  
Never arrived at. Many for their wealth (I grant)  
Have written Ladies of honour, and some few  
Have higher titles, and that's the farthest rise  
You can in England hope for. What think you  
If I should mark you out a way to live  
Queens in another climate?  The Banquets ready. One Chair, and Wine. Ann. 
we desire  
A competence.  Mary. 
And prefer our country's smoke  
Before outlandish fire.  Lady. 
But should we listen  
To such impossibilities, 'tis not in  
The power of man to make it good.  Luke. 
I'll do't.  
Nor is this seat of majesty far removed.  
It is but to Virginia.  Lady. 
How, Virginia!  
High Heaven forbid. Remember Sir, I beseech you,  
What creatures are shipped thither.  Ann. 
Condemned wretches,  
Forfeited to the law.  Mary. 
Strumpets and Bawds,  
For the abomination of their life,  
Spewed out of their own Country.  Luke. 
Your false fears  
Abuse my noble purposes. Such indeed  
Are sent as slaves to labour there, but you  
To absolute sovereignty. Observe these men,  
With reverence observe them. They are Kings,  
Kings of such spacious territories, and dominions:  
As our great Britain measured, will appear  
A garden too't.  lacy. 
You shall be adored there  
As Goddesses.  Sir John. 
Your litters made of gold  
Supported by your vassals, proud to bear  
The burden on their shoulders.  Plenty. 
Pomp, and ease,  
With delicates that Europe never knew,  
Like Pages shall wait on you.  Luke. 
If you have minds  
To entertain the greatness offered to you,  
With outstretched arms, and willing hands embrace it.  
But this refused, imagine what can make you  
Most miserable here, and rest assured,  
In storms it falls upon you: take 'em in,  
And use your best persuasion. If that fail.  
I'll send 'em aboard in a dry fat.  Sir John. 
Be not moved Sir.  
we'll work'em to your will: yet ere we part,  
Your worldly cares deferred, a little mirth  
Would not misbecome us.  Exeunt lacy. Plenty, Lady, Ann, Marry. Luke. 
You say well. And now  
It comes into my memory, this is my birthday,  
Which with solemnity I would observe,  
But that it would ask cost.  Sir John. 
That shall not grieve you.  
By my art I will prepare you such a feast,  
As Persia in her height of pomp, and riot  
Did never equal: and ravishing Music  
As the Italian Princes seldom heard  
At their greatest entertainments. Name your guests.  Luke. 
I must have none.  Sir John. 
Not the City Senate?  Luke. 
No.  
Nor yet poor neighbours. The first would argue me  
Of foolish ostentation, The latter  
Of too much hospitality, and a virtue  
Grown obsolete, and useless. I will sit  
Alone, and surfeit in my store, while others  
With envy pine at it. My Genius pampered  
With the thought of what I am, and what they suffer  
I have marked out to misery.  Sir John. 
You shall;  
And something I will add, you yet conceive not,  
Nor will I be slow-paced.  Luke. 
I have one business,  
And that dispatched I am free.  Sir John. 
About it Sir,  
Leave the rest to me.  Luke. 
Till now I ne'er loved magic.  Exeunt.  

Actus quintus, Scena secunda.  Enter Lord, Old Goldwire, and Old Tradewell. Lord. 
BElieve me, gentlemen! I never was  
So cozened in a fellow. He disguised  
Hypocrisy in such a cunning shape  
Of real goodness, that I would have sworn  
This devil a Saint. M. Goldwire, and M. Tradewell,  
What do you mean to do? put on.  Old Goldwire. 
With your Lordship's favour.  Lord. 
I'll have it so.  Old Tradew. 
Your will, my Lord, excuses  
The rudeness of our manners.  Lord. 
You have received  
Penitent letters from your sons I doubt not?  Old Tradew. 
They are our only sons.  Old Goldw. 
And as we are fathers,  
Remembering the errors of our youth,  
We would pardon slips in them.  Old Tradewell. 
and pay for'em  
In a moderate way.  Old Goldw. 
In which we hope your Lordship  
Will be our mediator.  Lord 
All my power,  Enter Luke. 
You freely shall command. 'Tis he! you are well met.  
And to my wish. And wondrous brave,  
Your habit speaks you a Merchant royal.  Luke. 
What I wear, I take not upon trust.  Lord. 
Your betters may, and blush not for't.  Luke. 
If you have nought else with me  
But to argue that, I will make bold to leave you.  Lord. 
You are very peremptory, pray you stay.  
I once held you an upright honest man.  Luke. 
I am honester now  
By a hundred thousand pound, I thank my stars for't,  
Upon the Exchange, and if your late opinion  
Be altered, who can help it? good my Lord  
To the point. I have other business then to talk  
Of honesty, and opinions.  Lord. 
Yet you may  
Do well, if you please, to show the one, and merit  
The other from good men, in a case that now  
Is offered to you.  Luke. 
What is't? I am troubled.  Lord. 
Here are two gentlemen, the fathers of  
Your brother's prentices.  Luke. 
Mine, my Lord, I take it.  Lord. 
Mr. Goldwire, and Mr. Tradewell.  Luke. 
They are welcome, if  
They come prepared to satisfy the damage  
I have sustained by their sons.  Old Goldw. 
We are, so you please  
To use a conscience.  Old Tradew. 
Which we hope you will do,  
For your own worship's sake.  Luke. 
Conscience, my friends,  
And wealth are not always neighbours. Should I part  
With what the law gives me, I should suffer mainly  
In my reputation. For it would convince me  
Of indiscretion. Nor will you I hope move me  
To do myself such prejudice.  Lord. 
No moderation.  Luke. 
They cannot look for't, and preserve in  
Me a thriving Citizens credit. Your bonds lie  
For your son's truth, and they shall answer all  
They have run out. The masters never prospered  
Since gentlemen's sons grew prentices. When we look  
To have our business done at home, they are  
Abroad in the Tennis-court, or in partridge-alley,  
In Lambeth Marsh, or a cheating Ordinary  
Where I found your sons. I have your Bonds, look too't.  
A thousand pounds a piece, and that will hardly  
Repair my losses.  Lord 
Thou dar'st not show thyself  
Such a devil.  Luke. 
Good words.  Lord. 
Such a cutthroat. I have heard of  
The usage of your brother's wife, and daughters.  
You shall find you are not lawless, and that your  
Moneys cannot justify your villainies.  Luke. 
I endure this.  
And good my Lord, now you talk in time of moneys,  
Pay in what you owe me. And give me leave to wonder  
Your wisdom should have leisure to consider  
The business of these gentlemen, or my carriage  
To my Sister, or my Nieces, being yourself  
So much in my danger.  Lord. 
In thy danger?  Luke. 
mine.  
I find in my counting house a Manor pawned,  
Pawned, my good Lord, Lacie-Mannour, and that Manor  
From which you have the title of a Lord,  
And it please your good Lordship. You are a noble man  
Pray you pay in my moneys. The interest  Plenty ready to speak within 
Will eat faster in't, then Aqua fortis in iron.  
Now though you bear me hard, I love your Lordship.  
I grant your person to be privileged  
From all arrests. Yet there lives a foolish creature  
Called an undersheriff, who being well paid, will serve  
Au extent on lord's, or Lowns land. Pay it in,  
I would be loath your name should sink. Or that  
Your hopeful son, when he returns from travel,  
Should find you my lord without land. You are angry  
For my good counsel. Look you to your Bonds: had I known  
Of your coming, believe it I would have had Sergeants ready:  
Lord how you fret! but that a Tavern's near  
You should taste a cup of Muscadine in my house,  
To wash down sorrow, but there it will do better,  
I know you'll drink a health to me.  Exit Luke. Lord. 
To thy damnation.  
Was there ever such a villain! Heaven forgive me  
For speaking so unchristianly, though he deserves it.  Old Goldm. 
We are undone.  Old Tradem. 
Our families quite ruined.  Lord. 
Take courage gentlemen. Comfort may appear.  
And punishment overtake him, when he least expects it.  Exeunt  

Actus quintus, Scena ultima.  Enter Sir John and Holdfast. Sir John. 
BE silent on your life.  Holdfast. 
I am overjoyed.  Sir John. 
Are the pictures placed as I directed?  Holdfast. 
Yes Sir.  Sir John. 
And the musicians ready?  Holdfast. 
All is done  
As you commanded.  at the door. Sir John. 
Make haste, and be careful,  
You know your cue, and postures.  Plenty within. 
We are perfect.  Sir John. 
'Tis well: the rest are come too?  Holdfast. 
And disposed of  
To your own wish.  Sir John. 
Set forth the table. So.  Enter Servants with a rich Banquet. 
A perfect Banquet. At the upper end,  A table, and rich Banquet. 
His chair in state, he shall feast like a Prince.  Holdfast. 
And rise like a Dutch hangman.  Enter Luke. Sir John. 
Not a word more.  
How like you the preparation? fill your room,  
And taste the cates, then in your thought consider  
A rich man, that lives wisely to himself,  
In his full height of glory.  Luke. 
I can brook  
No rival in this happiness. How sweetly  
These dainties, when unpaid for, please my palate!  
Some wine. Jove's Nectar. Brightness to the star  
That governed at my birth Shoot down thy influence,  
And with a perpetuity of being  
Continue this felicity, not gained  
By vows to Saints above, and much less purchased  
By the thriving industry; nor fallen upon me  
As a reward to piety, and religion,  
Or service for my Country. I owe all this  
To dissimulation, and the shape  
I wore of goodness. Let my brother number  
His beads devoutly, and believe his alms  
To beggars, his compassion to his debtors,  
Will wing his better part, disrobed of flesh,  
To soar above the firmament. I am well,  
And so I surfeit here in all abundance;  
Though styled a cormorant, a cutthroat, Jew,  
And prosecuted with the fatal curses  
Of widows, undone Orphans, and what else  
Such as malign my state can load me with,  
I will not envy it. You promised music?  Sir John. 
And you shall hear the strength and power  
Of it, the spirit of Orpheus raised to make it good,  
And in those ravishing strains with which he moved  
Charon and Cerberus to give him way  
To fetch from hell his lost Eurydice,  
Appear swifter than thought.  Music. At one door Cerberus, at the other, Charon, Orpheus, Chorus. Luke. 
'Tis wondrous strange.  Sir John. 
Does not the object and the accent take you?  Luke. 
A pretty fable. But that music should  Plenty and lacy ready behind. 
Alter in friends their nature, is to me  
Impossible. Since in myself I find  
What I have once decreed, shall know no change.  Sir John. 
You are constant to your purposes, yet I think  
That I could stagger you.  Luke. 
How?  Sir John. 
Should I present  
Your servants, debtors, and the rest that suffer  
By your fit severity, I presume the sight  
Would move you to compassion.  Luke. 
Not a mote.  
The music that your Orpheus made, was harsh  
To the delight I should receive in hearing  
Their cries, and groans, If it be in your power  
I would now see'em.  Sir John. 
Spirits in their shapes  
Shall show them as they are. But if it should move you?  Luke. 
If it do. May I ne'er find pity.  Sir John. 
Be your own judge.  
Appear as I commanded.  Sad music. Enter Goldwire, and Tradewell as from prison. Fortune, Hoyst, Penury following after them. Shavem in a blue gown, Secret, Dingem, Old Tradewell, and Old Goldwire with Sergeants. As erected they all kneel to Luke, heaving up their hands for mercy. Stargaze with a pack of Alminacks, Milliscent. Luke. 
Ha, ha, ha!  
This move me to compassion? or raise  
One sign of seeming pity in my face?  
You are deceived: it rather renders me more flinty, and obdurate. A South wind  
Shall sooner soften marble, and the rain  
That slides down gently from his flaggy wings  
o'erflow the Alps: then knees, or tears, or groans  
Shall wrest compunction from me. 'Tis my glory  
That they are wretched, and by me made so,  
It sets my happiness off. I could not triumph  
If these were not my captives. Ha! my tarriers  
As it appears have seized on these old foxes,  
As I gave order. New addition to  
My Scene of mirth. Ha, ha! They now grow tedious  
Let'em be removed, some other object. If  
Your art can show it.  Sir John. 
You shall perceive 'tis boundless.  
Yet one thing real if you please?  Luke. 
What is it?  S. Jo. 
Your Nieces ere they put to Sea, crave humbly  
Though absent in their bodies, they may take leave  
Of their late suitors statues.  Enter Lady, Anne, and Mary. Luke. 
There they hang,  
In things different I am tractable.  Sir John. 
There pay your vows you have liberty.  Ann. 
O sweet figure  
Of my abused lacy! when removed  
Into another world; I'll daily pay  
A sacrifice of sight, to thy remembrance;  
And with a shower of tears strive to wash of  
The stain of that contempt, my foolish pride,  
And insolence threw upon thee.  mary. 
I had been  
Too happy, if I had enjoyed the substance,  
But far unworthy of it, now I shall  
Thus prostrate to thy statue.  Lady. 
My kind husband,  
Blessed in my misery, from the monastery  
To which my disobedience confined thee,  
With thy souls eye, which distance cannot hinder,  
Look on my penitence. O that I could  
Call back time past, thy holy vow dispensed,  
With what humility would I observe  
My long neglected duty.  Sir John. 
Does not this move you?  Luke. 
Yes as they do the statues, and her sorrow  
My absent brother. If by your magic art  
You can give life to these, or bring him hither  
To witness her repentance, I may have  
Perchance some feeling of it.  Sir John. 
For your sport  
You shall see a Masterpiece. Here's nothing but  
A superficies, colours, and no substance.  
Sit still, and to your wonder, and amazement  
I'll give these Organs. This the sacrifice  
To make the great work perfect.  Enter lacy and Plenty. Luke. 
Prodigious.  S. John. 
Nay they have life, and motion. Descend.  
And for your absent brother. This washed off  
Against your will you shall know him.  Enter Lord and the rest. Luke. 
I am lost.  
Guilt strikes me dumb.  Sir John. 
You have seen my Lord the pageant.  Lord. 
I have, and am ravished with it.  S. John. 
What think you now  
Of this clear soul? this honest pious man?  
Have I stripped him bare. Or will your Lordship have  
A farther trial of him? 'tis not in a wolf to change his nature.  Lord. 
I long since confessed my errors  S. John. 
Look up, I forgive you,  
And seal your pardons thus.  Lady. 
I am too full  
Of joy to speak it.  Ann. 
I am another creature,  
Not what I was.  Mary. 
I vow to show myself  
When I am married, an humble wife,  
Not a commanding mistress.  Plenty. 
On those terms  
I gladly thus embrace you.  Lacte. 
Welcome to  
My bosom. As the one half of myself,  
I'll love you, and cherish you.  Goldwire. 
Mercv.  Tradewell and the rest. 
Good Sir mercy.  Sir John. 
This day is sacred to it. All shall find me  
As far as lawful pity can give way too't,  
Indulgent to your wishes, though with loss  
Unto myself. My kind, and honest brother,  
Looking into yourself, have you seen the Gorgon?  
What a golden dream you have had in the possession  
Of my estate? but here's a revocation  
That wakes you out of it. Monster in nature  
Revengeful, avaritious Atheist,  
Transcending all example. But I shall be  
A sharer in thy crimes, should I repeat 'em.  
What wilt thou do? Turn hypocrite again,  
With hope dissimulation can aid thee?  
Or that one eye will shed a tear in sign  
Of sorrow for thee? I have warrant to  
Make bold with mine own, pray you uncase. This key too  
I must make bold with. Hide thyself in some desert,  
Where good men ne'er may find thee: or in justice  
Pack to Virginia, and repent. Not for  
Those horrid ends to which thou didst design these.  Luke. 
I care not where I go, what's done with words  
Cannot be undone.  Exit Luke. Lady. 
Yet Sir, show some mercy;  
Because his cruelty to me, and mine,  
Did good upon us.  Sir John. 
Of that at better leisure,  
As his penitency shall work me. Make you good  
Your promised reformation, and mistrust  
Our City dames, whom wealth makes proud, to move  
In their own spheres, and willingly to confess  
In their habits, manners, and their highest port,  
A distance twixt the City, and the Court.  Exeunt omnes.   
FINIS.