THE Poor Scholar. A COMEDY.  
Written by Robert Nevile, Fellow of King's College in CAMBRIDGE.  
Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?  Hor. de Art. Poet. 
LONDON: Printed by Tho. Johnson, for Francis Kirkman, and Henry Marsh, and are to be sold at their shop, at the Prince's Arms in Chancery-lane. 1662.   

To his ingenuous Friend; upon his Play called, The Poor Scholar.  

THe Boy of Macedon that wept outright,  
Erough to drown 'tis famous S●ag●yrite,  
Because like Thetis warlike issue, he  
No Homer had to write his History,  
Mistook his aim, for had his wish obtained  
With th' easy Goas, his actions had been stained;  
His Life had been Romance, and he been made  
Some errand Knight of the Enchanted Blade.  
Poets Subtract, whilst they would Multiply,  
There's nor dispraise like an Hyperbole.  
This thus premised, I may prove at last  
Because no Poet, The Encomiast.  
Others may over-praise thy Book, (for we  
The best things often overrated see)  
My careless Phrase and words that lie neglected,  
This virtue have, that they'll not be suspected.  
So what I writ will aequi distant lie  
From polished Wit, and servile Flattery.  
Bees from a bruisedox, says Maro, breed,  
But thou drawest honey from a tattered Weed.  
Seeing thy wit's so pure, thy Phrase so clean,  
Thy sense so weighty, that each Line's a Scene,  
we'll change the Song, and cry as truly too  
Wither may not this thy Poor Scholar go?  
This fault the best nosed Critics only smell  
That thy Poor Scholar is attired too well.  
Ben's Auditors were once in such a mood,  
That he was forced to swear his Play was good;  
Thy Play then his, doth far more currant go,  
For without swearing, we'll believe thine so.   
E.M.   

To my friend Mr. R. N. on his excellent Play, The Poor Scholar.  

LEt thy Poor Scholar now no longer wait  
For thy probation to be Graduate,  
Let him commence Master of's Art; for he  
Ha's kept his Acts in Wits Academy.   
T. L.   

To my very good friend, upon his excellent Play, called, The Poor Scholar.  

Filled with rich fancy, golden Eloquence,  
This thy (Poor Scholar) can have no pretence  
To plead that he is poor, let those complain  
Rather of poverty, whose empty Brain  
Measures its slow-paced fancies by the glass,  
And when't has served 'em out can't make 'em pass  
For current Wit, but are adulterate:  
And such as flow from every Common pate;  
But when the Ventricles of thy pregnant Brain,  
Give birth to such an issue without pain,  
And it in ten days space can wholly vent,  
Nor force thee by't thy finger's excrement,  
Like some dull Animals, whose barren seed  
(Like women's) nine months space requires to breed  
Some poor Abortive Birth that dreads the light,  
And fears to be exposed to public sight)  
Thy play (like a young true born Eagle) may  
Behold the Sun in public at Noon day.   
W. W.   

dramatis Personae.  

EUgenes Senior, Uncle to Eugenes Junior, and Precedent of the College, a very passionate man, although a Clergy man.  
Eugenes Junior, the Poor Scholar.  
Eugenes junior's Father; a Citizen  
Demosthenes, Tutor to Eugenes Junior.  
Pege, a young student, Chamber-fellow to Eugenes junior, a Woman-hater.  
Philos, a friend to Eugenes Senior, and one that discovered his Nephew's rambles to him, a Fellow of the same College.  
Aphobos, a mad Rakel, afterwards married to Anaiskuntia.  
Eutrapelus, a quibbling fellow of Eugenes junior's acquaintance.  
Morphe, a beautiful Lady, but of a low fortune, to whom Eugenes junior was a servant.  
Anaiskuntia her Maid, an impudent scoffing Lass, to whom Aphobos was a servant.  
Eugeneia, sister to Eugenes junior, and courted by Eutrapelus.  
Uperephania her maid, a proud wench, and a great hater of men.  
Two Scholars.  
Three Fellows of the College.    

The Prologue to be spoken by Eugenes Junior, the Poor Scholar  

WHat? have our City Wits been gelt? that the y  
Of late a'n'●able to beget a Play?  
Or rather (troubled with Fears Quaking Fits)  
Is London frighted out of all its Wits▪  
By the Fanatic Crews late Insurrection?  
Or have they been molested with th' infection  
Of the dull City air? with which their brains  
Perhaps do sympathise, and take more pains  
Now to produce a Play, than Randolphs' Quill  
Would have required the Theatre to fill;  
Have London wits drank down some deadly potion?  
Are only Academic Wits in motion?  
Must Genus, Species, which of you were won't  
To trudge a foot, at last be forced to mount  
The Muses ' Paegasus? then I'll spur on  
And ride a Scholars pace from Helicon  
To th' City Theatre, and humbly beg  
Your courteous audience with a scrape, or leg,  
(Though't be but Scholarlike performed,) and dare  
My wants i'th' hearing of you all declare,  
I'll tell you, that I hope you are not so  
Cruel, as to let Wit a begging go,  
And that, if you'll grant me your approbation  
I shall be richer than the Indian Nation.    

THE POOR SCHOLAR.  

ACT. 1.  

SCENE I.  Eugenes Jun. and Pege. Eug. J. 
HOw now Pege, dost not think I was possessed  
With a Prophetic spirit, and spoke as infallibly  
As an Oracle? When I told thee  
That were I never so exact a Chemist,  
I could not extract one grain of gold out of  
My father's coffers: he grasps his coin as fast  
As drowning men do those on whom they fix their clutches  
When they're the third time sinking:  
Thy aid I prithee; what Engine? what stratagem  
Shall I use t'open the floodgates of his Liberality?  
For (as I am a Scholar and a poor one)  
My empty pockets no less require a flash  
From th' golden Tagus of his wealth,  
Then the most heavy-loaded Barge at  
Lowest water; there's no danger that my pockets  
Should prodigally overflow their banks,  
I having not wherewithal I may procure  
A competency of liquor to fill an Arch  
Of my least hollow tooth, or wet my whistle.  Pege. 
What will thy aged father neither vouchsafe  
To shine upon thee with a golden ray,  
Or water thee with a golden shower?  
What neither rain nor sunshine?  
Then certainly thou canst not but be barren:  
And thy pockets must necessarily be as dry  
As thy old father's quite-exhausted bones:  
What does he sordidly engross all his revenues  
To himself? if so, he does deserve  
To have's grey beard puckt for its silver hairs,  
As geese are plucked by schoolboys for their quills.  Eug. Jun. 
O Pege; there's thunder in the name of Father:  
He trembled less that stole Jove's golden Sceptre,  
And scraped the ivory thigh of Hercules  
Armed with his club, than I, when I but spend  
A thought on so unnatural an act, as to profane  
The silver shrine of those grey hairs,  
Whose very age gives them a title to respect and reverence.  Pege. 
If you'll stand forsooth, upon nice points  
Of Religion, you may still continue as poor  
As one o'th' Mendicant Friars, and like an Anchorite  
Live and die under a ruined and demolisht-wal;  
And for want of coin to pay the Sexton,  
Be forced to dig your grave with (Nature's Mathookes)  
Your long nails.  Eugen. J. 
Ah Pege, I'd rather die in some remote  
And solitary desert; and have no other grave,  
Then what the pitiful and tender hearted bird  
(With the red Stomacher) is wont to give us;  
(Which is no other than a mass of leaves heaped  
On a carcase) then bury the remembrance of  
Reverence and Duty to a Father.  Pege. 
Thou hast a noble spirit (Eugenes) and I'm  
Induced to think, that (like Jove on Danae)  
Some noble Deity descended on thy mother,  
And having given earnest for thy birth in drams  
Of heavenly pleasure, retired again to th' spangled  
Canopy; could such a noble branch as thy brave self  
Spring from (that root of evil) Avarice?  
So open and liberal a hand as thine, consist of  
The same flesh and blood, as thy close-fisted and  
Tenacious father? it seems to me a Prodigy in nature.  Eug. Jun. 
Father?— sighs  
I dare as soon (like those accursed sons of  
Earth the giants) plot and imagine treason  
Against heaven, as let the smallest ventricle of my  
Heart conceive one thought of disobedience to my  
Father! let me conjure thee therefore by the sacred tie  
Of our unfeigned amity and friendship, ne'er for the future  
To mention my dearest fathers sacred name  
But with some swelling titles of dignity and honour.  Pege. 
As he's thy father (Noble Eugenes)  
he's worthy to be deified and adored, I could not  
Safer err in any Labyrinth, then when I lost  
Myself in his deserved Encomiums, but if's  
Relation to thee be forgotten, I must and will  
Forget to tender him respect and reverence:  
But we must cut the thread of this discourse,  
For here comes merry Eutrapelus; let us indulge  
Ourselves in jovial mirth, and make enquiry  
What entertainment Eugeneia was pleased t' afford  
His courtship. God save you  Enter Eutrapelus. 
Merry Eutrapelus.  Eutrap. 
Your servant Pege; your vassal also noble Eugenes,  
I have been laying close siege to the noble Eugeneia,  
But (by Venus'es' happy Region the Middle) all  
The flashes of my sparkling wit can't burn the fort of her  
Strong resolutions against Marriage; she takes of nothing  
Else but Nunneries, of Vesta's sacred order, and wishes  
That all men (like Cybele's priests) were  
Castrated and guelt, she's another Lucretia  
For her squeamish coyness, and I'm afraid  
she'll sooner stab herself then let me  
Pass a thrust upon her.  Eug. Jun. 
Why? are you so well armed and accoutred  
Eutrapelus, that you talk of passing a thrust?  Eutrapel. 
I have as good a metalled dagger as that  
Which youthful Paris used to stab his Helena,  
When Venus promised him her best assistance;  
And (like Achille's Spear) it does no sooner  
Wound a Lady, but it can as speedily perform the cure;  
I have obtained a licence to wound young Ladies  
(As Mountebanks do their servants)  
To make experiment of my art, of curing  
Them again with my so famous Weapon-salve.  Pege. 
Now you talk of Mountebanks, I shrewdly suspect  
You're a Mountebank, and promise greater cures  
Then your abilities will suffer you to perform.  Eutrapel. 
I am not a Mountebank in your sense (Pege,)  
But I wish I were in another; and that I  
Might Mount the Banks of Eugenia's pleasant  
River, and yet I think were I upon the banks  
I quickly should fall in, and were I but well in,  
She could not fall out with me, were she  
More squeamish than she is.  Eug. jun. 
Well, since you must needs be riding,  
I'll back your mare, I'll make her pliant  
And gentle for your turn; I'll muster up  
All the inducements and arguments I can,  
To make her grant you a fair  
And courteous audience, I'll sound the trumpet  
Of your loud merits in her ear, and so  
Blazon the coat of your noble extraction and descent,  
That she (as Bucephalus would admit of  
No rider but Alexander) shall suffer none  
To ride her but yourself.  Eutrapel. 
Prithee then be speedy, for I'm in such haste  
That I could willingly rid Post upon her,  
Which till you have accomplished, farewel.  Exit Eutrapelus. Eug. Jun. 
Being he talks of riding Post, I hope my  
Sister (if he marry her) will create him a  
Cuckold, and give him a Horn or two to blow.  
But here comes my uncle with my tutor;  
Be you gone Pege.  Exit Pege. 
And I'll retire behind the hang, and hear  
What commentaries they'll write upon my actions.   

ACT. 1. SCENE 2.  Enter Eugenes signior, Demosthenes. Eug. Sen. 
DId ever Africa produce so strange a monster  
As my ungrateful Nephew? he is ingratitude  
In the abstract; I brought him to the College  
Thinking withal to bring him to my lure,  
And that he'd readily perform what I enjoined him;  
But since his most unfortunate arrival,  
Obedience to me is his smallest care;  
He performs my commands with the same willingness  
As heavy Bodies move from their own centre,  
Or malefactors go to execution.  Demosthen. 
I am dissolved in admiration at this news,  
For unto my commands he has been all obedience;  
I never read to Pupil yet which did receive the  
Dictates I instilled into him with a more facile  
Promptness; what? has a got a pair of faces?  
Does one frown upon you with a contracted  
Supercilious brow? the other smile on me  
With a benign and more placid aspect?  
Is he made up of contradictions? this surfeits  
My weak faith; I can't digest and thoroughly  
Concoct into a firm belief such strange impossibilities as these.  Eug. Sen. 
Impossibilities? you'll then maintain him in's  
Rebellion, will you?  Demosth. 
You must remember (Sir) that youthful blood  
Is hot and fiery, and if you will be peevish  
And morose, and (Touch wood-like) receive ill  
Sparks of discontent it offers, you'll quickly be  
Reduced (to th' worst of ills) Annihilation,  
And burnt to dust and ashes.  Eug. Sen. 
Though youthful blood be hot,  
Yet it must be allayed and cooled by snowy age;  
And those of elder years ought to restrain  
It's violent and impetuous course.  Demosth. 
I, but with this caution and proviso,  
That the restraint be not unseasonable:  
'tis a received opinion among Anatomists,  
That the ligature and binding of a member  
If seasonably applied, preserves the heart  
From violent influxes of the blood;  
But if the application be untimely, it causes  
Gangrenes and Hemorrhages;  
So youthful blood if checked unseasonably,  
Becomes more insolent and impetuous, more vitiated and  
Corrupt, then if its natural course had not been hindered;  
The age of youth is the strong Rein of  
Passion, and vice does ride in triumph  
Upon the wheels of vehement desire,  
Which run with infinite celerity  
When the Boy drives the chariot,  
They can't be stopped on a sudden,  
Art and deliberation must be used.  Eug. Sen. 
I think you've entered a league with  
Your pupil to abet him in debauchery,  
And cloak his lewdness and wild rogueries;  
I am resolved t' acquaint his father that  
You rescue and protect him from my just  
Rage, you are his sanctuary and Asylum.  Demosth. 
Can you but view yourself now in  
A glass, and see how you're transformed into  
A horrid monster, how your lips shake and  
Tremble, your veins and arteries swell  
With th' inflammations of your furious blood,  
And your eyes sparkle as if they were  
The only seat of fire, and at each glance  
Would start a Salamander by their  
Excessive heat; you would not (like Narcissus)  
Be in the least transported with the love  
Of your own person, but rather (like Actaeon)  
Stand amazed, when you perceive yourself  
Transformed into a beast by Passion;  
You would I'm sure abhor and hate your  
Self, worse than you do or can your  
Nephew, pray then by patiented.  Eug. Sen. 
I'll make patience as great a stranger  
To my breast a a a as.—  He stammers and can go no further Eug. Jun. aside. 
To your breast a, a, a, as goodness  
For I never discovered any in it yet:  Eug. Sen. 
O, now I have recovered my lost senses;  
I mean I'll make patience as great a stranger  
To my breast, as I resolve to make my Nephew to my love.  Eug. Jun. aside. 
A Pox choke you, ha' you hit it at last?  Demosth. 
O groundless and inveterate Hatred!  Eug. Sen. 
Groundless? Groundless? are these the precepts  
Of morality you instill into him? to teach him  
How to be rebellious? I'm sorry I so much  
Disparaged my own judgement as to commit him  
To your care and charge: could you by  
Th' clue of truth dive into all his winding  
Labyrinths of impiety, you'd think him a worse  
Monster than the inhuman Minotaur,  
And hire another Theseus to destroy him;  
You'd wish yourself all arm and weapon  
To cut him off: Ha' you rogue!  Eugenes Junior discovered peeping. 
What? a secret auditor of our  
Discourse? an Evesdropper? you see my Shorthand  
Can sufficiently write your Character,  
You've heard your own.  Eugenes Junior enters. Eug. Jun. 
Reverend and worthy Sir,  turning to Demosthenes his tutor. 
It may perhaps seem strange to you that  
Having a relation so near (I wish I could say  
Dear) unto me as an uncle present, I should  
Address myself first unto you;  
But (Sir) he's so deformed and strangely altered  
By his brutish passion, that I forget he is my  
Uncle, he makes me of Pythagoras'es' Sect,  
And firmly to believe the souls of Brutes  
Do by a transmigration animate and inform  
Our human bodies, as oft as I reflect upon  
His fierce and savage nature.  Demosthenes. 
But I should have entertained better thoughts  
Of you, my Eugenes, had you first attempted  
To pacify your uncle, it may be though you now  
Stink in his thoughts worse than your excrement  
Would do in's nose, and your memorial be to him  
As odious as swine's flesh to a Jew, yet by  
Your flowers of Rhetoric you might have  
Seemed sweet again and pleasant.  Eug. Jun. 
I had as good go court the air, or blow the sand,  
Sweet smells will make his head ache,  
And flowers of Rhetoric would to him be  
As offensive as perfumes are to those who are  
Affected with fits of the Mother.  Eug. Sen. 
Sirrah, for this your malapert and saucy  
Language, I'll make you troubled with fits  
Of the father, I'll lay your close and secret  
Vices as open to him as is the Sun in's high  
Meridian at Noonday.  Demosth. 
Young Eugenes, I plainly see that you're become  
So odious to your Uncle, that if you do but speak  
Or breathe in's presence, you'll kindle and inflame  
His hottest fury, wherefore avoid the room.  Eug. Jun. 
I willingly submit to your commands.  Exit. Eug. Sen. 
Can one blast of your mouth blow him away?  
I might have spent my lungs and sworn at him  
These two hours to be gone, and all in vain;  
And at one small entreaty from your lips  
He vanishes, and flies like lightning.  Demosth. 
My charity prompts me (Sir) to think that  
He so far resembles heaven, as rather to be  
Conquered by prayers then full-mouthed oaths,  
You must use soft and downy words, if you  
Would break his flinty heart; I know him well.  Eug. Sen. 
I wish he'd know himself so well, or if he want,  
That I had never known him.  Demost. 
Well, I'll go and sift him thoroughly,  
I'll refine him I warrant you, and new mould him.  Exeunt both severally Eug. Sen. 
Pray use your best endeavours, and adieu.   

ACT. 1. SCENE 3.  Morphe, Anaiskuntia, Eugenes Junior. Morphe. 
I Wonder Anaiskuntia, that Eugenes has been  
So great a stranger to us.  Anaisk 
Madam, you must think, that Scholars are as  
Fickle and unconstant in reading Ladies faces,  
As their books, they scarce have half perused one  
But they make scrutiny and enquiry after others,  
They seldom write one style, one language, long.  
They court Variety (the mother of Delight)  
As travellers that resolve to put a girdle about  
The world, after they've viewed one fair  
And amiable place, pass to another: So Scholars after they've  
cast a slight and transparent glance on some transcendent face  
And orient Beauty, pass on unto another;  
They would have as many Ladies to exercise  
Their Courtship on, as there are months; nay  
Weeks i'th' Almanac; and if a Lady would  
Give them content and satisfaction, she must be forced  
To change her face, as often as the Moon does hers;  
They are delighted with the newest books,  
And chief, when they are in Sheets,  
And till they first write in them, they'll never  
Bind 'em to themselves in Matrimony (that excellent Cover)  
For Lust's deep characters and impressions.  Mor. 
Fie upon you! does this discourse  
Become one of your Sex?  Anaisk. 
Of my Sex Madam? that's a frivolous question:  
I know all Scholars humours as well as the  
Best Laundress of 'em all, I know 'em as well  
As woman can know a man.  Mor. 
How Impudence? you'll confess yourself  
A common prostitute presently? why wasn't  
Too purge the Students reins?  Anaisk. 
Nay Madam, hold me excused there,  
Your Commentaries on my words transgress the bounds of  
Charity: for where I say I know 'em; I mean this only,  
That they'll take cognizance and notice of me,  
Salute, embrace me when I meet 'um.  Mor. 
You're in your old Bawdy tune again.  Anaisk. 
You are too waggish Madam, and by too foul  
Interpretations of my words, slain my unspotted innocence;  
When I vaunt, they'll embrace me  
My meaning's this, they'll kiss, and a-la-mode  
Take me by th' hand: and if a sorry kiss be  
Thought sufficient to christian women whores,  
They'd curse their Destinies; and (as I've  
Herd some Scholar's curse Augustius for  
Publishing an Edict against kissing  
So should I those who dare denominate all  
As common strumpets, who'll kiss as closely as  
Cockles: you justly therefore may be taxed  
With indiscretion for catching at my words,  
For words they are but wind, and those that  
Think to grasp the wind, you know the  
Proverb nominates indiscreet.  Mor. 
I'm sure the Sages of the world thought otherwise,  
When they prescribed us this experienced Axiom:  
A Bird is known by th' tune, a Beagle by  
His mouth, Man by his words;  
A stinking breath is not a surer symptom  
Of putrid lungs, than an obscene tongue of an  
Impure heart, 'twere better that clock (thy tongue)  
Would never strike, except it were to better purpose,  
Then to excite and raise thy lusts; 'tbe more  
Expedient that clapper should stand still, than  
Echo forth such sounds, which grate  
All neighbouring ears; I prithee let it rather (like the  
Curfew Bell) warn thee to smother all the  
Sparks of fiery lust; be silent, here's Eugenes,  
Sure 'tis his tread: how now Eugenes!  Enter Eugenes jun. 
What new object have you found out of late to fix your  
Eyes upon, that you so seldom deign to visit us?  Eng. jun. 
Madam, I thank my stars I am not yet so barren,  
But I can coin i'th' mintage of my brain a plausible  
Excuse, and make it pass for currant, by stamping  
It with th' impress of your divine Effigies;  
I thought myself not Eagle-eyed enough oft to  
Contemplate so bright a Sun; and though I often  
Threatened you many visits, I was too much a  
Coward in my own thoughts to stand to what I had  
Determined, and not prove an apostate from my resolutions.  Mor. 
Fie Eugenes I you speak too Scholarlike,  
I mean, you use too high Hyperboles, to which  
My merits can bear no proportion:  
This too much favours of compliment and flattery.  Eug. jug. 
Madam, your merits are too high for me to  
Take their true and exact Altitude,  
I'm not Astronomer good enough to do't.  Mor. 
But Eugenes, pray give me leave to turn Critic,  
And carp at your expressions; your plea you made  
For your long absence from me was thus ushered in;  
You did pretend you dared not frequently  
Contemplate me, because I was too bright a Sun;  
'tis strange methinks; for had you thought me so,  
You would have supplicated and humbly requested  
Me to shine upon you with a benign smiling  
Influence, and if I should be masked or hooded,  
You'd pray me to disperse those sable clouds  
With my bright rays, that you might see your long  
Desired Sun, and then you'd solemnly protest,  
That I create bright days when I appear  
With beams displayed in your Hemisphere.  Eug. jun. 
Madam, since you are pleased to censure me  
As a delinquent, I am content to stand to  
Your determinations; but yet my error is so  
Sweet and pleasing to me, that I must court it  
And continue in it, and as before I nominated  
You my Bright and glorious Sun, now (Persian-like)  
I will adore your beauties orient splendour:  
And as those Persians did consecrate and sacrifice  
A horse unto their Sun.—  Anaisk. aside. 
(You'll consecrate an ass? yourself? will you?)  Eug. jun. 
As a true Emblem, of their devotion's winged  
Speed and swiftness, so will I sacrifice my  
Paegasus (the Muse's horse) unto your service,  
I'll compose Panegyrickes on your praise,  
And make my Muse your Waiting woman,  
As here I do myself your humble and devoted servant.  Mor. 
Sir, I had rather you would make any thing  
The subject of your discourse, than my commendation.  Eug. jun. 
Now Madam, I'm your vassal more than  
Ever, you've captivated all my faculties,  
And made me wholly yours. I cannot but  
Highly applaud this your so politic stratagem  
To levelly my too rowring and aspiring thoughts,  
In daring to make you the subject of my weak  
And faint Encomiums, who are Queen Regent  
Of Beauty, Virtue, and other excellent  
Perfections, which (though but scattered and  
Dispersed to other Ladies) are all united and combined in you,  Mor. 
Well Eugenes, give a Supersedeas to compliments,  
The clock has spoke nine times, to advertise you  
That you must retire to College, it stands  
Not with my reputation or with yours  
That you should be detained here  
At so unseasonable an hour as this, and therefore I must  
Crave your pardon, as well for this my own abrupt  
Departure, as for desiring yours.  Exit with Anaiskuntia. Eug. jun. Jun. jun. 
Guard her you Powers above,  
Let no distracting ghastly dream dare to  
Assault or discompose her divine soul;  
Let her bed seem as soft as any summer's  
Cloud, that it may ease her softer limbs,  
And if (as th' Heliotrope her leaves unto the Sun)  
She open and displays them in her dreams;  
O let her be quite ravished with delight,  
And plunged into a gentle ecstasy of pleasant  
Raptures; that when she wakes from that  
Sweet Antepast of heavenly bliss, she  
May desire real fruitions of that pleasure  
Which she but in a dream enjoyed.  Exit.  

ACT. 1. SCENE 4.  Two Scholars (in tattered gowns,) Aphobos, Anaiskuntia. 1 Scholar 
BUt Aphobus, is she such a merry jeering  
Lass as thou proclaim'st her?  Aph. 
Jeering! Her jeers like Aquafortis, will  
Eat through any thing, they'll penetrate  
Your very heart: she'll never show her  
Teeth and laugh at you, but she'll be sure  
To by't, and that is as bad, as when thou art  
Besieged with all thy troops of vermin  
Mustered together and united: she's a  
Very Badger in the Art of jereing, and never  
Bites, but she will make her grinders meet:  
Take heed you don't provoke her till she falls foul upon you.  2 Scholar 
She shall fall foul upon me, if she'll but  
Let me fall foul upon her, nay if she'll.  
But permit me to give her a fair fall  Aphob. 
If thou shouldst once fall upon her, though  
Never so fairly, thou'dst come but foully off,  
thou'dst scarce get up again, thy nerves  
Would be so empty and invalid;  
Faith here she comes; now you Rogues quake  
And run like London Train-bands when the  
fanatics were in arms.  Enter Anaiskuntia. Anaisk. 
What gibbet have you robbed Aphobos, for these  
Gentlemen of the ragged regiment? they are as maugre  
As if they had been hung six months at Tyburn,  
Turned round with every puff of wind, and then cut  
Down to be hung up again for Skeletons;  
How their rags hang about 'em, deliberating  
Whether they should drop off or no; what have  
They robbed some Papermils lately? confess ingenously,  
There's no danger of their being hanged for't,  
For both their clothes and joints are now so rotten,  
They cannot hang together; they look as if  
They were out of joint, seem as pellucid as glass,  
And no less brittle; and fall would break 'em all to pieces.  1. Scholar 
If you please Lady, I'll venture a fall with you.  
Me thinks I can as well endure one, as your cracked  
Chamber-maid-ship.  Anaisk. 
Sir, I believe you would recant your challenge,  
And (as you may well for Hunger) eat your  
Words, if that you fell not soft and upon me,  
Nay, and then too, I believe you would if not break all  
Your bones, yet break your back:  
But I pray Aphobos upon what adventure  
Are you come? you are Night Rablers I suppose,  
Or (in better terms) you're a knight Errand,  
And these two your Squires.  Aphob. 
True Lady.  Anaisk. 
Methinks they are in a mean Livery.  Aphob. 
Their old rags (Lady) are badges of Honour:  
A Coat of Arms the older 'tis and plainer,  
'tis the more honourable; their habit does  
Declare unto the world that they have been  
In hot and furious skirmishes, they are so  
Slashed and cut.  Anaisk. 
I suspect Aphobos, that (like degenerate Cowards  
Which rob themselves and falsely sue the country)  
They pretend to have ' ought invincibly,  
When they dared as soon run into a scabbard  
As draw a sword: they looked as if they ' had  
Broken prison, and being eagerly pursued,  
By the assistance of their rotten clothes, made  
Their escape, leaving a sleeve in one man's hand,  
And a remnant of their breeches in another's,  
There's not a Tenter-hook (I'll warrant) in the  
Street, but wears their Livery.  Aphob. 
I must confess Lady, they are the stoutest  
Combatants in Cupid's camp, they vaunt  
That then they are invincible.  Anaisk. 
Invincible? I'll undertake that one weak  
Silly woman shall cool their courage.  2 Scholar 
No Lady, Women are rather apt to heat  
Then cool us, they are as hot as Hecuba  
Who (as the Poets tell us) was delivered  
Of a Firebrand: these Helenaes' are hot enough  
To burn all Troy; they don't (like glow-worms)  
Carry a seeming heat, nor are so cool as Cynthia  
Was when she embraced Endymion;  
But they that touch 'em, find that entertainment  
The Satire did, who kissed the fiery coal,  
They're sound burnt for't.  Anaisk. 
Nay, and we're cool too Sir, but then  
(Like snow) though cool at first, we burn  
More vehemently with an after Clap.  Aphob. 
Though you burn ne'er so much, yet I'm  
As cool as any Salamander, and love to dwell  
In your hot flames, I can and dare  
By your permission and leave,  
Inhabit your most Torrid Zone.  Anaisk. 
I'm not as yet disposed to make it habitable,  
I will not yet untie my virgin Zone.  Aphob. 
You untie it? No Lady, I'll save you that labour,  
I'll (as Alexander did the Gordian knot) either untie, or cut it.  Anaisk. 
Are you so sharp set i' faith, than I leave you, I dare not meddle with Edge-tools.  Aphob. 
That's huge pity, you're good flesh, and fit to be cut up, I'll warrant you as tender as a London Pullet, and no less full of juice and gravey.  Anaisk. 
If you intent to make me your Pullet, and cut me up, you must not be a Capon in performance.  Aphob. 
Lady, I'll tread you as well as ever Cock trod Hen, I'll make you quickly big with egg.  Anaisk. 
Then you must first eat eggs yourself to make you vigorous and active.  Aphob. 
I am a too high metalled nag to need such helps and spurs, or want such incitements.  Anaisk. 
But Gentlemen, the day appears, and (the Sun's Harbinger) the morning Star twinkles, and winks upon me to retire unto my Lady's chamber, lest this my absence be discovered to her, for this time therefore I'll bid you Adieu.  Exit. Aphob. 
Come my Boys, we'll scale the College walls, take an hours Nap upon our Beds, and then to Chapel, where  

That our vagaries be concealed, we'll pray,  
Whilst we by Night do ramble, sleep by Day.    

ACT. 1. SCENE 5.  Eugen. Sen. Eugenes Juniors father, Eugenes Junior. Eug. Jun. faith. 
I'M plunged in amazement at th' Relation of my rebellious son's behaviour; he stands eternally obliged to you for making him a member of that College whereof you're Head and Precedent, what dares he scratch his head? or make it ache, by his ill qualities and corrupted humours? I should extremely doubt whether he were my lawful issue, or some ignoble spurious By-Blow, were I not well assured of's Mother obstinate and invincible Chastity, who though she was in her young days, a beautiful and comely Venus, and therefore might excite ill motions in all her Beholders, yet was she too chaste a Diana, and awfully cooled and discountenanced 'em; no sooner, were they raised, but she standing i'th' circle of her many virtues, conjured 'em down again.  Eug. Sen. 
To open my mind plainly to you; he's an useless, nay a dangerous member, and if he be'ned lopped off, 'tis to be feared he'll corrupt others of the Body of our Society; he's turned a Rambler; I'm in suspense, whether I shall expel him, or try him further.  Eug. J. faith. 
Pray Brother ben't so far transported with your Passion, as to proceed to that extremity of rigour.  Eug. Sen. 
I summoned him t' appear in's own defence, & advertised him too, that you'd be here; O here he is. En. Jun. Jun.  Eug. Jun. faith. 
Ha' thou ungracious villain! what? turned Night-bird? and, when you should be in your nest, or (which I'd rather) at your study, must you be flying after Ladybirds? I'll clip your wings I' faith: I'll put a-ne-plus-ultra to your rambles, I know of 'em all.  Eug. Jun. 
I believe (Sir) you know of more than I do.  Eug. J. faith. 
That's very probable; for, your too liberally quaffed off bowls of liquor (like Lethe water) have washed their memory out off your head; your understanding's light is clouded and obscured by your black deeds, and works of Darkness; you have eclipsed its wont splendour: on what night I pray sir, held you your last Rendezvouz?  Eug. J. 
'tis so long since sir, I have quite forgot it.  Eug. Jun. faith. 
What? your Travels and rambles were so long? that (as Sir Francis Drake in's travels lost a day) so you have lost a night? you have forgot it (forsooth?)  Eug. Sen. weeps. 
Sir, should I steep these words in crocodiles and a tificial tears screwed from my eyes, they could not challenge your belief, and so I should be in despair first of your audience, and then of pardon; but (Sir) my innocence, which is as pure as that of Babes, when newly washed from their original stain, keeps me from sinking in this deluge of profound misery.  Eug. Sen. 
O Sir, you are he that stickled not to say, Sweet smells would make my head ache, but I think now, I've made your heart ache for't. These tears of yours I hope will make some seeds of virtue but forth apace, and cause you to grow better as well as bigger, like April showers they may produce those flowers (of Rhetoric) which you lately told me, would be offensive to me; I hope your tears won't (like those drops of rain which fall near the Line,) leave a corrupt steam behind 'em: now whilst they are in motion, and trickle down your rosy cheeks, they're sweeter than Rose-water to my sense; O that it reigned thus sweetly all the year! then, then, it may be some seeds of obedience, might grow with your rebellious weeds.  Eug. Jun. 
Know sir, that though a father's awful anger can open all the floodgates of my eyes, yet I like April can look clear and merrily, wipes his face and laughs '. as well as weep; I still can laugh at you, whilst I behold your Rainbow eyes, 'tis time for me to cease from raining showers of tears.  Eug. J. faith. 
O horrid! I can't hear this, and bear it, farewel brother for a while turns to his Son. I must be gone, I must avoid the place, _____ But you for your part, never see my face.  Exit. Eug. Sen. 
Do you see sir, how you have frighted away your father with your rebellious practices?  Eug. Jun. 
No sir, 'tis rather you have done't; he took you for some savage beast, some mad and furious dog, and thought you'd worry him, as ye have done me.  Eug. Sen. 
Sirrah, if you intent to keep still in the College, keep in your tongue.  Eug. Jun. 
I will not, cannot do it; should you serve me as th' tyrant Tereus served Philomela, and cut it out, I'd use some other art to vent my fury, I'd write it in your blood; I should be happier, were I out o'th' College, as long as you are in't: If you continue in, out I must go, _____ I can't cohabit with a mortal foe.  Exit Eug. J. Eug. Sen. 
Oh! how I burn with raging fury! how sharp a Paroxysm of feverish Passion does affect me? it can't be cured but by (that cooling Remedy) Moderation, which yet has never dwelled within this so hot Climate of my Breast; when Hercules was clad with th' Centaur's coat, he could not feel such vehement flames; I have a Hell within me, and the heat of my Passion's as unquenchable; my strong affections have (like Phaeton's wild Coursers) inflamed my little world of Man, my Microcosm; my soul must change her lodging, and leave this earthly Vehicle my Body, to cool herself i'th' blessed Elysian shades; like flame-eructing Aetna, I belch forth fire: well, I'll retire and read a Lecture of Philosophy to conjure down this Devil, Passion.  Exit.  

ACT. I. SCENE 6.  Demosthenes, Philos. Demosth. 
YOu acted indiscreetly (Philos) thus to betray young Eugenes rambles to his uncle; you know there ever have been private feuds and discontents betwixt 'em; thorough's uncle's means, his father has with drawn most of is allowance, he watered him before with small and inconsiderable drops, from's golden river; and they came from him, like so many drops of blood; and if he should (as certainly he will) hear once of this miscarriage, he'll utterly discard him.  Philos. 
I acted (I'll assure you) on good an a honest principles, not out of malice to his Nephew; I only ascertained him in general, that his nephew frequented Lady's company, and was no less brought up in Cupid's Academy, then in ours; that he loved to taste the Marmala de of a Lady's lips, was equally delighted with the roses of their cheeks, and with the Lilies of their hands, he loved to rob the pleasant Garden of a Lady's face, gather the cherries of her lips, the blushing red-cheeked apples of her cheeks, handle her azure veins like violets, or that he'd walk about with a she-Hawk on's fist, and loved to bring her to his lure: what harm was there in this?  Demosth. 
If it had been to one, not biased with Passion and prejudice, there had been none; but in betraying it to such a one, as he is, you have betrayed your weakness: had you acquainted me alone with his defects and errors, I would with greater lenity, and to better effect, have attempted to reform 'um.  Philos. 
Well Demosthenes, words have wings, and, as soon as (their Cage) the mouth is opened, out they fly, and mount beyond our reach and past recovery; like lightning, they can't be stopped, but break their passage th'rough the smallest crannies, and penetrate sometimes the thickest walls; their nature's as expansive as the Light, like Sun beams they are darted many miles from their first source; but I'll assure you, for the future if I obtain more cognizance of his actions, before his uncle I'll be as silent, secret, as the Night, and cloak his actions with obscurity; but to you, I'll open and reveal 'em all, I'll be as clear as day; I'll draw them in a line from the Circumference of my mouth unto your ear, as to their centre, where I am sure they'll rest, and go no further. I know old Eugenes is presently incensed at every petty peccadilio, I'll always therefore make him stranger to my thoughts, in matters of this importance.  Demosth. 
Be sure you're constant to your words, in the interim I'll go in and give him some good counsel.  Exit. Philos. 
'Tis true, I can't deny, but I love old Eugenes unfeignedly; but I shall be a torment to him, if I discover his Nephew's vices to him any more; a whisperer, and informer, is an odious creature, I shall abhor myself, if I done't speedily forsake these practices, all whispering winds are usually forerunners of a storm, I'll not (like a Fly) be always buzzing in old Eugenes ears, I shall corrupt 'em; I'll seek him out, and unravel all that I have done, I'll make his nephew master again of his affections.  Exit. 
Finis Actus primi.    

ACT. 2.  

SCENE 1.  Eugenes Jun. Eugeneia, Vperephania. Eugeneia. 
BRother, I wonder you should be so importunate in the suit of that same Cock-brained fellow Eutrapelus, he is composed of levity, I dare not speak a syllable, but he'll convert it to his own advantage, he'll sometimes make such use of all my answers, that I shall seem rather to court his fool-ship, than he to offer's Courtship unto me.  Eug. Jun. 
Sister, though he is light himself, yet he has store of heavy gold; which is as sparkling as his wit; I'll warrant, he'll protract, and certainly produce your life's small thread to the duration of seven years longer; he'll tickle your ears with wit, as well as something else with genial pleasures: besides, he does derive his pedigree from many anicent and noble families.  Vpereph. 
Yes I believe he can derive it as far, as from Wil Summer King Henry the 8ths fool, Scoggin the Jester, or the wise men of Goatam, I believe his pedigree is ancient, for his coat he wears, is old, and plain enough, and may be blazoned with 12 Lice Rampant in the field Or of his yellow skin, his crest, is a Coxcomb, for if there be one in the world, 'tis he.  Eugeneia. 
Die ' hear how admirably she blazons his Coat?  Eug. Jun. 
Hang her jade, because she wears an ugly vizard herself, and frights men from being her servants, and is constrained to walk alone, whispering herself away, she'd draw other proselytes to her religion, she'd have all turn Nuns, and be confined to a Cloister, and (with her Ladyship's Apes face) lead apes in hell.  Eugeneia. 
But Brother, I've heard you often talk how the Romans conferred certain dignities on vestal virgins, who kept their virgin fruits pure and ungathered.  Eug. Jun. 
But yet the number of those vestals was but small, the dignities and privileges which they enjoyed, were only these, that they in state were rendered equal to married wives.  Eugeneia. 
But, what if I have solemnly protested to live and die a virgin?  Eug. Jun. 
Then you must as solemnly break that oath; such temerarious and imprudent vows are better broke then kept; for none can by an ordinary way perceive, whether they have that special gift of continency, as to be able to live and die unmarried; what woman hath so sailed about the world of her own heart, sounded each creek, surveyed each corner, but that still there may remain much Terra Incognita to herself; besides concupiscences too much restrained, will swell the more, had Danae not been kept b'a brazen door, sh' had died a harmless Virgin, not a whore.  Vperephan. 
Madam, I hope you'll not be guilty of foul perjury, what you have vowed, perform; ne'er be confined to one man's humours. Be still as free as your unlimited thoughts.  Eug. Jun. 
Out! you lascivious quean; because you're not yourself content to be confined to one man, would you dissuade her from it? would you have your mistress like yourself? as common as the Sea, as Air, and no less light; would you have her let all Night-birds build their nests in her thick Bush? and make herself a Warehouse for all sorts of Commodities? a Publican to receive all Tribute she can get? you'd have as many men (it may be) to gratify (I can't say) satisfy your lust, as the great Turk has women in's Seraglio; you cannot feed upon one sort of flesh, you must be pampered with variety.  Vperephan. 
You're mistaken Sir in me; I'm not so weary of my life, or so well prepared to die, as to desire yet to be pressed to death by any man, I'll first be hanged.  Eug. Jun. 
Hang y'u Jade, but than you'll choose your gallows. The door is open and invites you to go out, your absence at this time will be to us more acceptable than your presence, for here comes merry Eutrapelus. You'll spoil his sport if you stay here.  Vperephan. 
I'll make no longer stay then, but yet I am resolved to make my Mistress (Penelope-like) unravel all by night Eutrapelus does by day. I'll make men know (let 'em do what they can) A woman can persist to hate a man.  Exit.  

ACT. 2. SCENE 2.  Manent Eugenes J. Eugeneia, Enter Eutrapelus. Eug. Jun 
YOu're welcome to me my Eutrapelus, your company makes me happy.  Eutrap. 
Thanks Noble Eugenes; but yet I should be swelled with bigger, and more large conceptions of my worth, if I were thought so by the fair Eugeneia; could I but merit one smile of hers, I'd wrack my brains, and cause each ventricle thereof to be in labour for a jest, and they should first conceive, and then bring forth all their conceits.  Eugeneia. 
Sir, your merits sound so loud in each expression of my brothers, that they require that portion of respect which otherwise I should deny you.  Eutrapel. 
Madam, I should be blessed for ever, if their sound should prove harmonious, and make good music in your ears; or, like the pleasant lays of Orpheus, attract all things and sexes after 'em, and (more peculiarly) your sacred self.  Eugeneia. 
Sir, now you are a Note too high, you'll overstrain your voice in canting forth your own deserts, this is the way to raise a discord between you, and your best friends.  Eutrap. 
T'has been observed that discord makes the sweetest Harmony: but yet because I may not seem a Schismatic in love, I'm for a perfect union, we'll (if you please) concorporate, we'll make up a complete Hermaphrodite, and be inseparably glued together, and when we're met we'el stick so close, that nothing but omnipotence itself shall ever Divorce us from our nuptial pleasures.  Eugeneia. 
Rome was not built (Sir) in a day, and things of so great consequence as marriage, are not to be resolved on in a minute, this ordinance (like the laws o'th' Medes and Persians) is unchangeable, what is once done here and concluded on, can never be unravelled or undone.  Eutrap. 
Fear not undoing Madam, for we'el be always doing, when we're married; I'll always be in Action; and if this suit prevail with you, I'll then clap action upon you after action, I'll first arrest you in your bed, and ne'er be nonsuited in Cupid's Court, till my endeavours for an heir obtain a happy issue; pray give your verdict (Madam) in this case.  Eugeneia. 
My verdict sir is this, that you are nonsuited in the court of my affections, your plea can't any more be heard, you've lost your suit, your Rights and titles, to make me your Tenement, are forfeited.  Eutrap. 
Then, Madam, I'll renew my suit, and make your Brother my advocate in this cause.  Eugeneia. 
he'll take Bribes Sir, and therefore (like a common Barreter) he shall obtain no audience, I'll therefore now adjourn Great Cupid's Court, and put a period to your amorous sport;  Exit. Eutrap. 
Don't I look simply Eugenes? and seem in as deplorable a state, as a young heir beset with Sergeants? When the large sails of's Debts are ready to sink and over-whelm the small Bark of his poor estate; Marsy as (after Apollo flayed him) ne'er looked so simply, if he did, I'll be flayed; I'll undertake a whole Night's lodging, and hard Jobb-Journey-workes of darkness, would not have cooled my courage, as this repulse has done; sh' has made my eyes as hollow as her heart.  Eug. Jun. 
I took thee not (Eutrapelus) for so notorious a Coward, as to be daunted with the first denial,  

Take thou but Courage, and be bold, my Boy,  
And all thy grief shall terminate in joy,  
Coward ne'er won fair Lady, stand this shock,  
And thou shalt have her in a surer Lock.   Eutrap. 
I wish I had her in so sure a Lock, as to give her a fall, and then, I'd make her belly rise before her.  Eug. Jun. 
Take heed that (like Antaeus) she grow not stronger by her fall, and getting up before you, throw you off for ever. But I must crave your absence for a while, each minute I expect my tutor.  Eutrap. 
I'll be gone than I faith, lest if he find us here together, he should read us a Juniper or Crabtree lecture;  Exit Eu.  

ACT. 2. SCENE 3.  Eugenes Junior, Demosthenes. Eug. J. 
Odds ' so, here he comes. he perceives Demosthenes entering. Well, now I must be thunder-proof, his brows are clouded, and presage a storm, pray Goded be but an April shower, as soon ended as begun, or (if he thunder) God send that (like the air) he be the better cleared from Anger's fumes and fiery exhalations: for otherwise, he'll blast me with his breath; but (now I think on't) he shall find me reading. He pulls a book out of his pocket, and reads softly.  Demosth. 
I'm glad to see you thus studiously employed, your actions in some measure contradict that flying rumour which proclaimed you remiss and negligent; you do well to defeat black-mouthed obloquy, and vindicate your reputation from those aspersions, with which it has been blended and defaced, I pray continue it in its proper lustre, and suffered not to be eclipsed by any spots of a debauched and vicious conversation.  Eug. Jun. aside. 
Pray God he does not change his tune presently, this is too sweet to last long.  Demosth. 
Though other men may cherish in their bosoms sinister thoughts of all your actions, yet I'll be charitable in my constructions on 'em, But— shakes his head.  Eug. Jun. aside. 
Nay i'faith, if he talks of Butting, than ' war Horns; I'm the But he'el shoot at.  Demosth. 
Well, I must display my thoughts unto you, I must not, dare not flatter you too much, for such a fawning spaniel is worse than a dumb dog, I'll bark to fright you, although I by't the less.  Eug. Jun. aside. 
I'd rather heat a Dog bark, then him speak now.  Demosth. 
I am informed that you give frequent visits to your Ladies, and though, (as 'tis confessed) your stipend and allowance be but small, you spend it vainly in their company; 'tis now no wonder, your complaints of poverty are so loud; for they who keep such costly and expensive mares as women, (like those that kept Sejanus ' horse) will soon decay in their estates and fortunes.  Eug. Jun. 
Sir, you may easily accusea man, though ne'er so innocent; I would request you therefore to produce that man who dares be so maliciously bold and wicked, as to accuse me face to face; there's none I know dare do it, my looks would prove as fatal to him, as a Basilisks, or as Medusa's snaky locks to her Beholders who e'er he be, he can as soon with open and undazled eyes look on the Sun, as upon me, with this false accusation in his mouth; if there are gods above and divine justice, his inquinated breath will rot his teeth, his tongue will leap out of his mouth, before he can give birth to so prodigious an untruth as this; besides, you may be pleased sir to consider, how 'tis improbable that I, who can't disburse enough for Necessaries, and have been always pinched by extreme want, should gain admittance into Lady's company.  Demosth. 
Sometimes a golden tongue may be as prevalent as a golden shower of money; you have perhaps some winning compliments, and they will pass more currant with young Ladies than the coin of some Gallants, whose heads are empty, though their pockets full.  Eug. Jun. 
You can't expect that they should be Great Wits, who have small purses, they usually sympathise together, Wit is expensive, it must be dieted with delicaties, it must be suckled with the richest wines, or else it will grow flat and dull.  Demost. 
I done't like these principles in you, I now suspect you more than ever, and be assured, my eye shall be always over you: I'll make the friends I have as so many prospectives, to take a perfect view of your deportment, and as I am informed, I'll act.  Exit. Eug. Jun. 
I hope then your friends will look thorough the wrong end o'th' Prospective, and all my faults will seem but Peccadilios and Venial slips. But here comes Pege.  Enter Pege.  

ACT. 2. SCENE 4.  Pege, Eugenes Junior. Pege. 
WHat? poor still, Eugenes? are not thy father's coffers open yet? Hast not with th' herb Lunaria picked his locks? Does he (like Nero) still delight to wallow on his flloores covered, and (as 'twere) paved with money? wont he allow thy pockets a guard of tutelar angels to keep the devil out?  Eug. Jun. 
Not one; the devil has so long possess't 'em, he'll never be cast out, but by th' omnipotent aid of sacred Gold, of which I'm destitute: I dare not go to Church for fear of being encountered by a Brief, and if I am admitted into company unknown to me, my first compliment is this, Prithee lend me six pence: in sum, my head's as full of care for money, as my pocket's empty of it. Let's put our heads together, and by th' conjunction of our Brains beget a plot, let us endeavour to undermine my father.  Pege. 
Is that your last refuge then? Ha' you no books to sell? can't you live by your learning?  Eug. Jun. 
No faith, not one, that's worth the selling, necessity forced me to look gold in my Dictionary as I used to do Latin, and I chose rather to make it yield me money, then only give me good words; my Greek Lexicon I parted with for the procuring of one Greek word called Krusos (Gold:) Blind Homer, because he was a poor Poet, and brought me nothing, I turned out of doors for a small bribe of twelve pence, and as the Song goes.  

My Euclids Elements did pack  
For the better element of Sack.   
My Ovid's Metamorphosis is Metamorphosed into silver, and of my Grammar, which should teach me to make true Latin, I have made true and lawful money. My Metaphysics are abstracted from my study, and 'tis no matter, because they do abitract (all they treat of) from matter; my Astronomy books are all exposed to sale, for liquor, only to make experiment of the Earth's motion when my Brains (like my blood) perform their circulation: and now I am so good a Philosopher as to carry all I have about me, and my sole study is how to get more.  Pege. 
I'm big with plot, of which when I am once delivered, I question not but you will be delivered from your poverty for a time, you'll get a truce with it.  Eug. Jun. 
Let's hear't I prithee.  Pege. 
Thus you must steer your course, step to a Booksellers, and give him this angel, pulls money out of's pocket. which I'll lend you, for the use of (the many-languaged Bibles lately published) for a week, their price is 12 pound, when you have once got 'em in your study, invite your father to your chamber, show him your Library, and tell him you are 12 l. out of purse for those large volumes.  Eug. Jun. 
But Pege, my shelves which heretofore were crammed like Capons, are now empty, I've sold almost all my books.  Pege. 
I'll lend thee as many books of mine as shall fill up their room.  Eug. Jun. 
Well thought of my politic Head-piece, my Matchiavel, my Richlieu, my Mazarine,  

I'll to the Booksellers, and when I've got  
The Books, I'll laugh, and say, God speed the plot.   Exit. Pege. 
Unto what sordid and ignoble shift do parents put their children? when they prefer their pelf before 'em, and love it more; they won't allow 'em one small creek of all their wealth to sail in; and therefore (after their long wished for death) they sail top and top Gallant in the large Ocean of their wealth, till they make Shipwreck of their fortunes, and split against that dangerous rock of Prodigality; they'll sput out whole cellars of wine, as fast as their old parents could swallow and concoct their gains got by extortoin, or any indirect unlawful means; they won't be-tantalized; they'll drink their liquor when 'tis at their nose; they'll make their golden apples (like those of Sodom) molter away if they can come to touch 'em; and open all their Locks of golden water so often, till they are quite exhausted. But what's the matter with Aphobos? he comes thus puffing and sweeting. Ent. Aphobos.   

ACT. 2. SCENE 5.  Without a gown, Aphobos, Pege. Aphobos. 
O Pege, I'm undone!  Pege. 
Why, what's the matter?  Aphobos. 
The matter! why, I'll tell thee, with some others of my acquaintance I've been to night upon the watch.  Pege. 
How upon the watch? I thought you had rather been a peace breaker, than a keeper of the peace.  Aphob. 
You're i'th' right; for when I say, we were upon the watch, I mean, we fell upon 'em and beat 'em roundly: and whilst we were deeply engaged i'th' skirmish, I, that I might bestir myself the nimbler, threw of my gown, and being at length overpowered, by a fresh supply of their Assistants, I was forced to leave my gown behind me, and think a pair of heels worth two pair of hands; the damned rogues pursued me closer than my other company, and observing me to scale our College walls, this morning brought my gown to th' precedent, and he's resolved to make a diligent search after the owner; thou hast (I hear) two gowns, I prithee lend me one, and I will ever style thee my grand Deliverer and Protector; fetch it quickly for fear he should surprise me, thus unarmed and, unprovided.  Pege. 
I'll out, and fetch one for you.  Exit. Aphob. 
Under what dismal and unfortunate planet was I born? that when (in imitation of the Planets) I wandered up and down, from sign to sign, from house to house, all my irregular motions should be so perfectly discovered: one of the watchman, that saw me come from Anaiskuntiaes' house, was (as I think) a Blacksmith; but yet I hope this Vulcan, will not divulgeed abroad, that I, like Mars, was in conjunction with my Venus; if he does, I'll blame him, and make him a right Vulcan; I'll give him a worse fall, than Jove gave that other Vulcan, whom (as Poets tell us) he fling from heaven to earth. But I wish this Pege were come with's gown, I think though I hear him coming. Enter Pege with a gown in's hand.  Pege. 
You Rogue you, put it on quickly; the Precedent hast called a congregation of Fellows, and 's a searching all the student's chambers, to find which of 'em 'tis has shed his skin; they'll instantly be here.  Aphob. 
I'll on with it then. he puts it on.  Pege. 
'Tis well 'tis on, for here they're all.   

ACT. 2. SCENE 6.  Manent Pege, Aphobos, enter Eugenes senior Pres. with Aphobos' gown in's hand; Demosthenes, Philos, three other Fellow of the College. Eug. Sen. 
WHat skabby sheep is't that has dropped this rotten Fleece? who e'er he be, he must be taken notice of left he spoil the whole flock: do you know this gown, Aphobos?  Aphob. 
A'ned please you sir, I never saw't before; and (aside) if I could help it, I would ne'er see't again.  Eug. sen. 
What's that you mumble to yourself, you would not do?  Aphob. 
I said Sir, that I ne'er saw't before, and if I had, I would not conceal the owner.  Eug. sen. 
What say you Pege? do you know't?  Pege. 
Not I sir, I never thought so torn a gown as this worth taking notice of: it seems to have been stolen out of a Beggar's Wardrobe.  Eug. Sen. 
The Watchmen took it up i'th' street, and brought it to me, assuring me that it was a young Scholar's of our College.  Demost. 
The watch take it up? 'tis not worth taking up i'th' high away; but if we knew the owner, we'd take him down to th' buttery, and give him due correction.  Aphob. aside. 
Under correction sir, if you're for the butteries with me, I'll lie as close as Diogenes in Dolio, I'll creep in at the Bunghole before I'll mount a Barrel, and have my hole bunged; if they catch me now, I must expect to be whipped like a brewer's horse.  Eug. sen. 
What's that you mutter, sir?  Aphob. 
I say sir, if it be mine I shall desire no more favour then to be whipped like a brewer's horse.  Philos. 
Certainly, I've seen this robe worn by some of our Undergraduates, I've seen't on some body's back, that belongs to our College.  Aphob aside. 
I had better (like Hercules) have worn the Centaur's poisoned coat, then have it proved, that I e'er wore it: if it be known this robe was mine, they'll make me wear a scarlet robe; they'll die my skin in my own blood, and mangle it as bad, as that gown is torn.  1 Fellow 
Sure Aphobos you're a conjuring, you make such motions with your lips, and yet speak not a word that can be heard; but Aphobos, I won't say absolutely 'tis your gown, but I am confident, I've seen you wear it.  Aphobos. 
Sir you'll as difficultly make it sit me, as Mercury's garment did the Moor, who was always either waxing or waning, and so the garment was either too little or too big.  3 Fellow. 
You're something like the Moon, yourself, you are as pale (with fear) as she is; and we'll try whether 'twill sit you or no, come put off that gown you wear.  Aphobos aside. 
I had rather put you off with an excuse, if I had a good one.  3 Fellow. 
What is't you say?  Aphob. 
I say sir, I had rather put it off then not.  Eug. sen. 
Off with't then, and put on this.  he gives him the gown, and he puts it on. 2 Fellow. 
It fits him, as if it were his own.  Aphob. aside. 
A pox take you, you have fitted me with a witness.  2 Fellow. 
Aphobos, This gown was made for you.  Aphob. side. 
I thank my good wit for't, I have hit upon a pretty excuse now.  3 Fellow. 
What say you sir?  Aphob. 
I say sir, that I have no excuse for myself, and must ingeniously confess that once it was my gown, but having another, and urged by want of money, I sold it to one of another College, who since has left the College, and (as I conceive) sold it another, and that other may have left it where 'twas found.  Pege aside. 
What a brave subtle rogue 'tis; faith, this excuse will stand him in noble stead; 'twill hold water, and keep him from sinking.  1 Fellow. 
What witness can you produce you sold it to that party?  Aphob aside. 
'S'lid I hope that the rogue Pege will be true to me if I cite him.  1 Fellow. 
Who d'ye say?  Pege aside. 
I commend thee for thy wit, Boy; I'll rescue thee now.  Eug. sen. 
Can you witness this Pege?  Pege. 
Yes sir.  Demosth. 
This will be tried (Sir) presently, let one of us examine Pege apart, another, Aphobus, for how many shillings he sold it.  Aphob. 
I have the price, Sir, at my finger's ends.  He shakes his ten fingers, and winks on Pege. Pege. aside. 
I know his meaning; I must say as many shillings as he has fingers.  Demost. 
Whisper softly, and tell me Aphobos.  Aphob. 
I had ten shillings for't sir.  1 Fellow. 
What say you, Pege?  Pege. 
He sold it for an Angel sir.  Apho. aside. 
O my good Angel; well said.  1. Fel. 
They both concur, sir, in the same price don't, they?  Demosth. 
Yes, they do sir.  Eug. Sen. 
Well, Gentlemen, we'll make a further search when time permits us; I have urgent occasions call me away, let us departed.  Exeunt all but Pege and Aphob. Pege. 
Now, my Boy, thou'rt out of gunshot; thou'rt excellent at coining excuses i'th' mintage of thy brain, and by stamping 'em with the counterfeit impress of truth; know'st how to make 'em pass for currant; thou canst hammer out a lie in the forge of thy brain (the best that ever I knew) thou hast a good extempore Wit that way.  Aphob. 
I had need then have had my wits about me, for had I been once i'th' Butteries, they'd have their rods about me. But Pege, let us, for joy that I'm escaped, go to th' three Tuns, and drink a pint of wine, and laugh away our cares.  Sings. 

we'll carouse in Bacchus' fountains, hang your Beer and muddly Ale:  
'tis only Sack infuses courage, when our spirits droop and fail;  
'tis drinking at the Tuns, that keeps, us from ascending Buttery Barrels;  
'tis this that safely brings us off, when we're engaged in feuds and quarrels.   Pege. 
Come away Boy.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus secundi.    

ACT. 3.  

SCENE 1.  Eugenes Jun. Anaiskuntia, Morphe. Eug. Jun. 
I Thank my stars I have recruited my decayed Library, and I hope that it will recruit my empty pockets: Twelve pounds! 'tis a sum my pockets were never before guilty of, and had not been so now, had not my father proved a golden Ass; now me thinks I could venture t'other fit of my angry uncle, to see my Morphe; What care I though he frowns, so she but smiles; let him show himself a fierce and angry Mars, so she'll but prove a smiling Venus; If he thunders, she's my Daphne, my Laurel, that can protect me from being thunderstruck; I'll never prove a coward in this my Amorous War; And though my uncle should discharge whole volleys of piercing words against me, he could not change my countenance with pale-faced fear, much less my resolutions; but I think I see Anaiskuntia coming.  speaks to her, Enter Anaiskuntia as passing over the Stage. 
Prithee sweet heart let me detain you a little, how does your Mistress, the fair and virtuous Morphe? Is she so much at leisure, as to vouchsafe me a small conference with her; I should be very proud if I could merit the noble title of her servant.  Anaiskun. 
Sir, I presume that she is ne'er so much employed, but your company may make her put a period to all her other business.  Eug. Jun. 
Now thou transport'st me into a pleasant ecstasy of joy; thou makest me be all ear, whilst you distil these words which so much savour of blandishment and sweet delights; now I'm as light as Air, and am resolved to make all troubles strangers to my breast.  Anaiskuntia. 
I can't, sir, but admire this your immovable and undaunted spirit, that you can (like the Wether) sing in tempests, and those so great ones, which your uncle raised, after he heard you did frequent my Mistriss', house.  Eug. Jun. 
Why Anaiskuntia? Has fame with her swift pinions divulged it thus far?  Anaisk. 
'tis as I tell you sir.  Eug. Jun. 
Let me tell thee then Anaiskuntia, that though wave after wave of misery should fall upon me, by those storms my uncle raises; though all adversitie's most blustering winds should be united and conspire against me, like AEolus, I'd quell 'em all; or if I could not, I'd laugh at 'em, and dare 'em to do their worst.  Anaisk. aside. 
I see there's something i'th' wind now, and that he loves my mistress.  Eug. Jun. 
They should not put an end unto my voyage, th' attractive and magnetic virtue of her beauty's so strong and potent; by her as by my Polar Star, I'll so direct my course, that though I were enveloped with Night's black sable mantle, I'd safely steer my course, till my designs arrive to her as to their wished for Haven.  Anaisk. 
Sir, you have now rendered me yours, more than ever; before, I entertained but low and abject thoughts of your deserts, now, on the contrary, I am become a great adorer of your worth, and promise you my best assistance, towards the purchase of your desired ends, what e'er they be.  Eug. Jun 
Thanks for thy love my Anaiskuntia, Here's a small gratuity, as an acknowledgement that I think myself gives her money. much obliged to thee for it, and, if occasion be, I'll make experiment and trial of it; but is not this your Mistress, the fair Morphe? I think it is: assist me now you Muses.   

ACT. 3. SCENE 2.  Enter Morphe. Morphe. 
WHat? are you here Eugenes? I thought you had been barricadoed up in your study, cloistered up like a Monk, and condemned to a twelve months' penance by your uncle, to expiate that crime you committed lately in giving me a visit.  Eug. Jun. 
Madam, I am confined I must confess, but it is only to yourself; I am your vassal, and not a little ambitious to do you any service, that is within the Sphere of my small power: I am not yet, and never will be cloistered up, or lead a Monkish life: I am resolved (if possible) to enter the sacred bonds of Marriage.  Morphe. 
What? then will you be clogged to a silly woman? that's the worst sort of confinement, and I believe won't prove agreeable to your nature.  Eug. Jun. 
Madam, I'm now a Captive, and am desirous that my thoughts may have the benefit of a Goal-delivery.  Morph. 
How? a Captive Eugenes?  Eug. Jun. 
I'm your Captive, Madam, and shall never think myself at liberty, till you bind me i'th' fetters of your arms; that bondage to me will seem liberty.  Morphe. 
You speak Riddles, and Mysteries, Eugenes, which are beyond the Sphere of my low capacity; I want an interpreter.  Anaisk. 
We women are such silly Asses, we don't know when we're well offered; we won't understand what's good for us, until it's too late: any one that is not (like an Ass) void of all Reason, may know that you're the mark he shoots at, and that, if he might, he'd stick his Arrow in the middle of you.  Morph. 
You saucy slut, be silent, we must not take your self inter pretations on men's words.  Eug. Jun. 
What modesty would have forced me fond to conceal, she has revealed unto you: I'm glad I had so eloquent a speaker to express my vast affections to you: Sh'has made an excellent Commentary on my words.  Morphe. 
Truly, Sir, her Commentary seems obscurer to me, than the Text on which she made it.  Anaisk. 
Then Sir, go to your Application, and (as an Application ought to be) let it be plain and practical.  Eug. Jun. 
Madam, I'll now no longer use vain Circumlocutions: I'll not be always conversant about those outward circumstances, of that action Marriage, called Compliments; I'll take the shortest Cut, and tell you plainly, that I'm so much enamoured both to the beauty of your Mind and Body, that I must utterly despair of any happiness, unless you'll please to perfect and complete my wishes in yielding your consent to Marriage.  Anairk. 
Now, Sir, you speak (Soldier like) plainly and boldly: I'll warrant you a special Striker in Cupid's Camp.  Morphe. 
Though, Sir, I am so much a woman, as that I can't conceal those high respects I have reserved for you, yet I'd not have you think, they're prevalent enough to terminate in Nuptial Love; I shall desire you therefore to desist from importuning me with such vain motions.  Anaisk. 
Vain motions! I should think 'em good motions, were they directed to me, as to their proper Centre; but we women forsooth, are all for Circular motions: first we will, and then we won't,  

We won't, we will; we will, we won't again,  
Until at last our Coyness prove our bain.   Eug. Jun. 
Well, Madam, your repulse has kept me off for a time, but it will make me come on again a fresh, with doubled vigour: All happiness dwell with you.  Exit. Morphe. 
Come, Anaiskuntia, Let us go dispatch the business I spoke t' you of.  Anaisk. 
Madam, I'll wait upon you.  Exeunt both.  

ACT. 3. SCENE 3.  Pege, Eugenes Junior. Peg. 
I Think I was born to secure and relieve distressed persons: Aphobos, had it not been for me, had been severely punished; and young Eugenes would have been in as poor a condition, as a wand'ring Pilgrim: His pockets would have been sufficient Arguments to prove a Vacuum in Nature: I'm glad that I can be so instrumental to my friends; 'tis no small satisfaction to me. But here comes Eugenes, I believe, with his heart as light, as his pockets are heavy. What hath my plot thrived Eugenes?  Enter Eugenes. Eug. Jun. 
Thrived! Thou art fit to be Privy Councillor to a King, my Boy; thou hast so many winding Labyrinths in thy brain, that none will ever tract thy grand designs: Jove's secrets may as easily be discovered, as thine: Omnipotence itself would be fore puzzled to dive into the depths of all thy stratagems.  Pege. 
Well, I'm glad I've pleasurd you, and if it lie within the Sphere of my weak power to help you, you may command me. But no more of this; here comes Eutrapelus, he'll make us merry after our plotting.   

ACT. 3. SCENE 4.  Enter Eutrapelus. Eutrap. 
HOw is't Gentlemen? Jovial, and blithe?  Eug. Jun. 
How can we be otherwise in your company, Eutrapelus; you are the Genius of the place in which you are, and inspire your company with a spirit of mirth: Your presence (like the Suns) clears us from Melancholy's dismal clouds: you banish Grief (that Traitor to all mirth) from our breasts: you calm the rugged waters of adverse Fortune, and make their surface smooth and even: in short, you are the soul o'th' Company, and animate us with your lively presence.  Eutrap. 
I could wish, Eugenes, that I might (as it were) animate, and infuse a soul into your sister, by the Act of Propagation.  Eug. Jun. 
Fear not, my Eutrapelus, but that thou (like her soul) shalt dwell within her: thou shalt take up the best part in her body, for thy lodging.  Eutrap. 
I could dwell there willingly, all my life: I'll swear she's a Palace for a King to dwell in: she's such good meat, that, were she set before a King, he'd have no taster; he'd venture on her first himself.  Pege. 
Prithee Eutrapelus don't talk off these enameled bubbles, these painted pieces of clay called women; who, were they not over curiously expensive on themselves, they would resemble that misshapen clay (Prometheus used) before it was informed and animated; they have no beauty but what we please either out of poetry'or compliment to give 'em, these dim Cynthia's would be very obscure if they borrowed not that light they have from the Sun of men's favour.  Eutrapel. 
O Pege, do not say they have no beauty, 'tis high treason, for I have a Lady in chase; of that Royal beauty, that in her cheeks the White and Red Roses of York and Lancaster, and Lilies of France are combined, I prithee then let not thy sharp and thorny words be felt among these Roses.  Pege. 
Suppose Eutrapelus we should be so civil, and ingenuous as to grant them beautiful, yet we may by experience see, that their beauty is like a much desired banquet, which is no sooner tasted, but its delicious luxury is swallowed up by oblivion: besides, there's no conformation of linements, no composition of features, no symmetry of parts so well compacted in a woman, but a judicious eye may perceive some imperfection: fair Helena when in a Looking-glass she saw her own deformity, was forced to weep: pale Cynthia has her Spots, and Venus her Moles and Warts.  Eutrapel. 
Because fair Ladies have their spots  
Are they less beautiful? those beauty spots,  
Will set 'em off with the more glorious Lustre; But here comes Aphobos smiling. What makes you look so merrily about the guils Aphobos? You are very pleasant me thinks.   

ACT. 4. SCENE. 5.  Enter Aphobos. Aphob. 
I Have had a miraculous deliverance lately, and have reason to rejoice at it, I can't but smile how I cheated the Precedent with Pege's gown.  Eug. Jun. 
'Twas well thou scapedst his clutches, for hadst thou owned the gown, he would have made thee ride (like Bacchus) on a barrel, and made you show your fat cheeks; he'd have made you a Montelions' dial, and looked on your backside, what a Clock it was when your gown was found, and (like the Sun on a Dial) he'd have dwelled upon't a whole day, and sound heated it.  Aphoh. 
But I thank my good fortune, my actions did not come so much to light, and shine so clear, as to let him look what 'twas a Clock in my Postern Dial.  Eutrapel. 
I believe had you been taken Aphobos, your clock would have struck above once an hour; the Precedent would have laid about him courageously; he'd have struck you every minute, and made use of his time.  Aphob. 
Yet he could not have much time to torture me; for he could not have taken time by the forelock whilst he was on my backside; time's bald behind.  Eutrapel. 
I, but (like Musicians) he might have kept time with his hands.  Aphob. 
That would have been very unpleasant Music to my senses; 'twould have made me squeak like the small strings of a Treble Viol.  Eug. Jun. 
Eutrapelus, if you intent to see my sister, retire quickly, lest she be gone abroad upon a visit; my business calls me away.  Exit. Eutrap. 
I'll use the greatest speed I can to meet with her.  Exit. Pege. 
If you go to your wenches, I'll to my study; I shall at last reap the greatest benefie.  Exit.  

ACT. 3. SCENE 6.  Manet Aphobos: Enter Anaiskuntia. Aphoh. 
I'M glad they're gone, for here's my Anaiskuntia; how does my dearest soul?  

Who holds all my affections as fast  
Hast, Taste, Cast, Last, Wast  
As I do her about the slender waist.   He hugs her and kisses her. Anaisk, 
Take heed sir, you'll lose presently your sense in this great crowd of words.  Aphob. 
Never fear it sweeting;  
Thou'lt see my sense and all my words,  
Stick close together as Cheese-curds.  Anai●k. 
Where's the cream o'th' jest there?  Aphob. 
It lies in the milky way betwixt those pleasant fontinells, your breasts.  Anaisk. 
What? Then your turned child? and must be suckled with breast-milk?  Aphob. 
I could hang upon those snowy Alps to eternity: if those were the two topped Parnassus, Poets speak off, I'd turn a drolling Poet, and court thee in Rhym that I might lie and sleep there.  Anaisk. 
Come, let me hear how you'd Rhym?  Aphob. 
As oft as at your breasts I nibble,  
Methinks I am grown big with quibble;  
Here Heaven must be, for most do say,  
That there's in Heaven a milky way.  Anaik, 
Well Aphobos. I'm in haste now, and must be gone; but I'll assure you, that if ever I marry any, your are the man designed by me.  Exit. Aphob. 
I've hopes enough now to enjoy her: well, I'll go and contrive how to effect this business with secrecy and security.  Exit. 
Finis Actus tertio.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE I.  Philos, Eugenes Senior. Philos. 
'tIs true, I once resolved to conceal young Eugenes' rambles from his Uncle, but now they are so frequently Echoed and noised abroad, I cannot, dare not do it: should I cloud 'em in obscurity for a time, they would (like thunderbolts too long Imprisoned in a cloud) break forth with more impetuous violence; I therefore am resolved t'unload my breast, and make old Eugenes bear his share o'th' news of's Nephew's viciousness: and here he comes most opportunely for it:  Enter Eugen. Senier. 

Your servant Mr. Precedent  
I have a fresh supply of news concerning your wild Nephew;  
His vices now are grown so great and loud,  
That secrecy can them no longer cloud,   Eug. sen. 
Why Philos? What vices has Fame of late proclaimed him guilty of.  Philos. 
Before, she only in general declared him a notorious Rambler, but now descends to particulars, and dilates herself more largely on his actions; she reports that he's a continual visitor of Morphe, who, though a Gentlewoman, yet of mean fortunes; besides, her maid is noted for a light and wanton slut, she is a common Hackney; and may be hired at the same rate as Hackney Horses are; Twelve pence a side makes her your own: for that price a man may up, and ride her; She (like the Roman Courtesan Sempronia) If men refuse to Court her, will not abstain from Courting them: she's somewhat fair indeed; but though this beautiful Cyren have a woman's face, she ends i'th' Serpent's Tail; stings to the purpose. Though this unsatiable Harpy has a Virgin's face, yet has she cruel Talons too under her wings: she's one, whom neither Argus with his hundred eyes, nor brazen walls, nor the most vigilant Guards, can e'er secure from her incontinency: she tricks herself up with such variety of gauderies, as if she exposed her body as a bait to bring the devil to her lure, and tempt the very Tempter to embrace her.  Eug. Sen. 
My blood is curdled at this dismal news; the Rascal will be here presently, to fetch some Books I promised to lend him: me thinks he makes a long and tedious stay. O, here he comes.   

Act. 4 SCENE 2.  Enter Eugenes Junior. Eugen. Jun. 
I'm come to wait upon you, Sir, to fetch those  
Books you promised to lend me.  Eugen. Sen. 
Books! What Books I pray, would you have? Ovid's Amorum, or De Arte Amandi: there I believe lies the sum of your Studies, or in some other obscene Drollist, as Marshal's Bawdy Epigrams, Propetius' Effeminate strains, ot Petronius Arbiter's whoring Verses.  Eug. Jun. 
I am amazed at this discourse: whither it tends, I can't conjecture: to me it is a Riddle.  Eug. Sen. 
If it be (though I'm sure 'tis not) I believe your own Conscience is a sufficient Oedipus to unriddle it.  Eug. Jun. 
My own Conscience! My Conscience is as uncapable of wracking gripes and fears, as heaven itself; it never yet was guilty of any foul enormity; and therefore can't be the Receptacle of Panic fears.  Eug. Sen. 
I see your impudence is so strong and daring, that of yourself you'll confess nothing: Pri' thee Philos step into the Town, and fetch my Brother, and then I'll vent my thoughts more freely.  Philos. 
I'll go with winged speed.  Exit. Eug. Jun. 
'tis not a Father's presence can affright my pure and virgin innocency.  Eug. Sen. 
Well, Sirrah, I have not patience to contain myself: I must unbutton my breast to you, and tell you all. You are, I hear, a constant visitant of one Morphe, a person of low Fortunes; and, if you don't pretend Courtship to her, I fear you're guilty of a worse crime, and are too well acquainted with that Whore her Maid.  Eug. Jun. 
As for her Maid, I ever scorned her as a base, abject, inferior wench; but for her Mistress, the fair and virtuous Morphe, I have Altars, and Temples in my heart, erected for her merits: her! I do, I will, maugre both men and devils, love.  Eug. Sen. 
Well, Sir, we'll cool your courage, as hot as you are-here's your father, with Philos; I'll tell him all.   

ACT. 4. SCENE 3.  Enter Philos, and Eugen. Juniors' Father. Philos. 
I've brought your Brother, Sir.  Eug. Sen. 
I thank you Sir; but yet could wish his coming might be welcomed with better news: I shall disturb, and discompose his thoughts with a Narration of his sons debaucheries.  Eug. Jun. Father. 
Speak quickly, Brother, lest by your too long silence, I be induced to think his vices are beyond expression, and fancy him a worse Monster, than you'll (it may be) represent him to me: I'm already persuaded, that he's a burden to the earth he treads on: Wracks, I believe, and Halters cannot extort more from him, then's guilty Conscience; he being conscious to himself, that were his close breast glazed and pellucid, (according unto Momuses desire) 'twould be a poor and idle sin, of which it had not been a Receptacle. He looks like one surprised in a shameful act of Lust, or Theft: he knows not what to say, or think, or do: his Spirits huddle consusedly together, and would go somewhither, but know not where; do something, but they know not what: were he to be arraigned before a Judge, his countenance would prove his Executioner, and hang him. O! that I should e'er give give birth to so Prodigious a Rogue, who's forfeited so far to vice, as that no virtue can redeem him; his heart, when 'tis besieged by a temptation, though ne'er so small, (like Rome when 'twas besieged) is always taken.  Eug. Jun. 
Sure, Sir, I could never be such a Monster as you represent me, unless some of your vices were entailed upon me; because you (by uncharitableness) have forgot you are my father, I must forget that I'm your son, and speak my mind more plainly.  Eug. Sen. 
Nay, now I see he's arrived to the height of wickedness: he that forgets his duty to a father, will not start back from the commission of the most horrid crime: he'll swallow smaller Gnats, that does not boggle at a greater matter: his nature's so enured to wickedness, that (like poisons to some bodies which are accustomed to 'em) it does become his food and nourishment.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
I beseech you, Brother, send for his Tutor, that we may all consult how to restrain his wickedness.  Eug. Sen. 
Let me entreat you, Philos, to accept of the trouble of fetching Demosthenes; his chamber is not far: desire him to vouchsafe us his presence here.  Philos. 
I shall be proud to serve you, Sir. Exit.  
aside. But when I'm out, I'll come no more.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
Me thinks, Sir, that the sense of your vices should make you tap your eyes, and drop a tear or two, which (as Mercury water does a Rock) might dissolve your hard, your rocky heart, into a penitent confession of your faults:  

But when of sinning we have lost a sense,  
We must expect final impenitence.   Eug. Sen. 
'tis very true, Brother; the villain is hardened in's wickedness; he assumes confidence from his crimes, and (like your common prostitutes) sinning's become his trade, he's not ashamed to glory of his shame, but his Tutor is come now, he shall hear all, I made bold to trouble you Demosthenes; here's a Pupil of yours has miscarried, and I fear, lost for ever.   

ACT. 4. SCENE 4.  Enter Demosthenes. Demosth. 
LOst for ever? I'm almost lost in admiration at this fatal news; I pray deliver me of that Timpany of expectation to hear his vices, with which I'm big.  Eug. sen. 
He has commenced an acquaintance with that beggarly gentlewoman called Morphe, who though she has a little skindeep beauty, yet she's desperately poor and indigent, her beauty's colours, like those in the Rainbow, paesage a barrenness of Rain; no golden showers can come from her; she may (it may be) like the Sun in the warm Summer, gild and refresh him with some few golden rays, but they're so few and small, that in the Winter of adversity, they'll all be spent and quite exhausted; her estate (I fear) like Tholosanus' gold, will ruin and undo those that enjoy it; 'tis too small to last long.  Demosth. 
I thought young Eugenes, I had sufficiently Catechised you about these idle courses, will you never wear your virile gown, and be a man? Is this a fit qualification for a student in Philosophy, to be a visitant of wenches? If you would exercise your courtship, do it on that excellent Lady, Philosophy? she is not coy, but with expanded hands, and open arms will entertain you: her discourses are not (like other Lady's) only frothy and pleasing, but profitable too; she's a fit object for your love.  Eug. Jun. 
Sir, your so tender, and fatherlike expressions have melted my before congealed senses into tears, weeps. which all their Winter storms of taunting words, would but have made the harder, but yet (to your and my own grief) I plainly must acknowledge that I respect, and highly honour, and (which is more) entirely love that exquisite piece of beauty, Morphe; in whom nature has out-worked herself, and far transcended her own Ideas; she can't be paralle'ld by any art, much less by nature: she'd baffle Painters to decipher her exactly, as bad as Agues puzzle Doctors; and you must know, that your restraining me from her company will prove as fatal to me, as letting blood does usually to those that are affected with th' small pox, or as th' small pox to a fair face: I love her, and though I lose my fortune, nay, my life for't, I will have her.  Demost. 
Consider, Eugenes, that Cupid's blind, and be not so imprudent as to follow a blind guide. Show yourself a Philosopher: and get the mastery over that fond Pastion, Love.  Eug. Jun. 
Love can't be mastered, Sir:  
As soon as mastery comes, sweet Love anon  
Taketh his nimble wings, and soon is gone.  Demosth. 
Whip that fond Boy, Cupid, and that will make him, like a little child, run away from you: then indeed, he'll takes wings, and be gone.  Eug. Jun. 
Sir, he is armed with arrows, and for each blow, he'll wound me to the heart, as he has done already.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
Well, Sir, if you won't hearken to your Tutors safe advice, know, that before this company, I declare you disinherited, and leave you heir to no more than twelve pence of my estate: and so farewell.  Exit. Eug. Sen. 
And that I may be no small assistant in reclaiming you from your lewd courses, I'll command your chamber door key to be brought to me, your door to be double locked: your chamber shall serve you both for Banqueting house, and Boghouse; Parlour, and Privy-house. You shall be fed like a Caged Bird: your victuals shall be given you through Grates, and thus I'll leave you: come let us go Demosthenes.  Exeunt both.  

ACT. 4. SCENE 5.  Eugeneia, Vperephania, Eutrapelus. Vpereph. 
WEll, Madam, be advised by me, ne'er marry if you're wise: these men (when once married) are always licking their wife's lips, and by too frequent breathing on those Red Roses, make 'em at last as blue as their own noses in a winter morning. Consider, That for a few drams of Bestial pleasure, you must be wracked to a confession that you have been at your sport, by the untollerable Pangs of Childbed: your body, will once in nine months, be unjointed, after you have been glued unto a man: these men (like Tinkers) will stop up one Hole in us, but make three fort, by weakening our bodies: they'll go abroad and drink o'th' best, and vex their wives at home, till they are drunk with their own tears. We women are the ships in which men sail i'th' Ocean of this world; they'll leap into us wislingly at first, and come aboard, but when we leak, by reason of th'infirmities of age, they'll let us sink and perish, and leap as fast out of us they're trust, 'em Mistress.  Eugen. 
You waned my brother again to rattle you for these invectives against marriage, pray hold your tongue.  Vperep. 
Well Madam, I am silent, and 'tis high time, for Eutrapelus is coming.  Enter Eutrapelus. Eutrapel. 
I hope now noble Madam, I have a lience to plead again gain in Cupid's Count, which lately you adjourned: 'tis not the long vacation yet; let me request you therefore Madam to end my suit▪ let it not last as long, as Law suits do in Chancery; one word of yours, whereby I may be well assured of your affection, will set me out of miseries reach, I shall be more invulnerable than Achilles, for he was wounded in the heel; but I shall be armed Cap a Pee against all danger with one word of encouragement from you.  Eugeneia. 
What power I have over myself, I willingly resign to you Eutrapelus, but yet there wants the main wheel to put your designs in motion, I mean my father's consent; and he has resolved to keep me in my Virgin state these two years: How shall I extricate myself from these great difficulties?  Eutrapelus. 
Go but along with me and I'll secure you: I'll tell you what to do.  Eugenia. 
Well, I'll commit myself unto your trust.  Exeunt both.  

ACT. 4. SCENE 6.  Enter Aphobos, Anaiskuntia. Aphob. 
COme my Anaiskuntia, when shall we make a conjunction Copulative? What will't always be nibbling at my fleshly Bait, and never take it in?  Anaisk. 
Your hook appears too much, Sir, to make me taste the Bait; I'm afraid you come upon the catch, only to try whether I'll by't or no; and if I do, you'll only tear open my mouth, make it bleed, and then leave me.  Aphob. 
Leave thee? give me but thy consent,  
And I'll stick so close to thee, that every one  
That see's us, shall swear we are but one;  
Leave thee, Leave thee, I'll not leave thee,  he sings. 
O how loath am I to leave thee!  Anaisk. 
I scarce know how to trust you, you men are so accustomed to make your thoughts strangers unto your words.  Aphob. 
Not how to trust me! Why, I'll give thee earnest my girl, I'll make the cock sure.  be kisses her. Anaisk. 
Come, stay your stomach a little with that kiss, you'll fall too the more hearty presently for it: as soon as the Priest has coupled us, do your best and worst.  Aphob. 
Well, my Anaiskuntia, accompany me to my chamber, and we'll contrive the business there, there's another couple will be Married with us.  Exeunt both. 
Finis Actus Quarti.    

ACT. 5.  

SCENE 1.  Eugenes Junior solus. Eug. J. 
WHat would they have made me live immured, and caged up in my chamber? This was (like a Nun that has had a Clap) to be buried alive in a Coffin of a larger Volume, must I have walked up and down in my Chamber like a pale Ghost, and (as't were be Magic Charms) be limited and confined to walk no further? I'll make'um know, that it would prove as easy, to manacle Omnipotence, or confine a Spirit, as me; although I could not, like Daedalus, make me wings, and take my flight out of my cage, yet I could file a Bar, and break my passage out o'th' chamber window; they should not have left me an eye of light, had they intended to secure my person, I can creep thorough a window, eat Iron Bars through like Aquafortis, break thorough the gaping jaws of danger, for to obtain the sight of my dear Morphe; had they dispersed serpents teeth, and sown 'em in my way, and (Cadnius like) made them to spring up armed men, I'd have encountered with 'em all; my breast already is too much possess't with Love, to harbour slavish fear; I'll presently post to Morphe, and give her the relation of all my travels, but whilst I talk, methinks I see my glorious Sun appear, she comes and shines upon me sweetly, her countenance wears a lovely smile; What makes the fairest Morphe so neatly dress her countenance into a smile? May I presume to know the cause?  Enter Morphe.  

ACT. 5. SCENE 2.  Morphe. 
TWo things there were that moved my laughter, first to see you, who (as I heard) were kept close personer in your Chamber, secondly, that I have lost (the precious jewel) my maid, some body has robbed me of her, much good may't do ' 'em.  Eug. jun. 
Madam, you have sufficient grounds of smiling, but as smiling is but a Prologue to perfect laughter, so courtship is to Marriage joys, let me desire you therefore to make me leave off all vain Prologues, and fall to th' sport, and let me act Marriag'es merry Comedy with you; Lady's act Plays sometimes as well as men.  Morphe. 
But I'm afraid (my dearst Eugenes,) (for now that Epithet thou dost deserve) our Comedy will prove a Tragedy to you, ' i'th' Epilogue:  Eug. Jun. 
Never fear it Madam, but if it do, my strains (like those in Tragedies) shall be high and lofty, I'll not cringe to the best of 'em all, but talk as high as they, till at last, it prove but a Traguses Comedy at most, beginning in sadness and ending in mirth.  Morphe. 
Well, my Eugenes, thy constancy has overcome me, I'm now your own; but who shall marry us?  Eug. Jun. 
Why thus, my uncle you know is a Clergyman, we'll go to him in a disguise, and make him marry us, then, we'el laugh at him, and vex him as much as he has done us.  Morphe. 
Let's go then and accoustre ourselves accordingly,  
The world shall know that 'tis a thing above,  
All human Power to over master Love.  Exeunt.  

ACT. 5. SCENE 3.  Eug. sen. Eug. juniors father, Demosthenes. Eug. sen. 
DEmost hens, how does your Pupil resent his confinement? You hear nothing of s repining at it, do you?  Demosth. 
Not a word, but I fear 'twil make him more desperate and resolute, his nature will never brook it.  Eug. jun. father. 
You are too tender of him Demosthenes, he must be curbed and bridled in, if ever you intent he should be stopped i'th' full career of his debauchery.  Demosth. 
But sir, some horses the more you kerb 'em in, will run the faster.  Eug. Juniors father. 
Sir, he's a rebellious Son, and (like Rebels) must undergo a sharp confinement, before he'll be reduced to 's due obedience.  Eug sen. 
You say true brother, he must have his wings clipped, and be cooped up, if ever you expect to came him.  Enter Morphe Eugenes Jun. in rustic habits. 
Who is't you'd speak with good people? What's your pleasure?  Eug. J. 
We come an't please your Vorship to be Morried, I con love this fine lass, and zhe provesses, zhe con do so to me; will you sir, be pleased to yoke us together.  Demosth. 
These are right country Bumpkins: they talk in a broad language, much like the Doric Dialect in Greek: they don't clip their words; but give large London measure in their talk: enough for money.  Eug. Sen. 
What's your name, I pray, honest man?  Eug. Jun. 
I am cleped, Sir, Villip Lovelass.  Eug. Sen. 
And do you love this lass?  Eug. Jun. 
I, by my vaith Sir, do I.  Eug. Sen. 
What's your name, fair Maid?  Morph. 
My name is Mary Allcock, an't please your worship.  Eug. Sen. 
That's a fit name for a Maid that's to be Married: here's a couple will make a Philip and Mary coin.  
But who have we here?  as they talk, Aphobos passeth over the Stage with Anaiskuntia under his Gown, and her legs in sight. 
Come hither Sir, come hither: What have you under your Gown?  Aphob. 
A Saddle, an't please you, which I borrowed to ride out of Town on.  Eug. Sen. 
A Saddle, Sir!  points to her legs. 
And these are the Syrups, are they?  Demosth. 
Sirrah, What? must you be riding upon a Flesh Saddle? Are these fit courses for a Scholar?  Aphobos sets down the wench, and she slips away. 
Well, get you to your Chamber,  
Tomorrow we'll take a course with you.  Exit Aphob. Eug. sen. 
But d'y ' hear Maiden, can you love this man?  Morphe. 
Yes forsooth can I, and none body else.  Eng. sen. aside. 
'tis a pretty Peat, to do the Feat; she heats my marrow: methinks I could be young again, that I might enjoy her.  Demosth. 
You'd best marry 'em quickly, Mr. Precedent, I believe they're impatient of delay.  Eug. sen. 
Well Gentlemen, accompany me to our Chapel to th'marrying these people.  Exeunt omnes.  

ACT. 5. SCENE 4.  Aphobos, Anaiskuntia. Aphob. 
THese women are always wilful; she would not put on the clothes I prepared for her; but 'tis no matter, we were married before they took us: they can't spoil our sport now: my name too is cut out o'th' College butteries; and I have now no title to the honour of mounting a Barrel: but I wonder my Anaiskuntia states thus long: sure she is dressed in her man's apparel by this time.  he's silent, and looks about the Stage a good while. 
What, no appearance yet? 'tis strange!  
O, now she's come.  Enter Anaiskuntia in a Scholar's habit. Anaisk. 
I can't endure to wear men's clothes thus, methinks 'tis ugly to see a woman wear the Breeches.  Aphob. 
I wonder whether Eugeneia and Eutrapelus are married yet or no, they should be by this time, or else the Parson made not so quick dispatch with 'em as he did with us; nay, now I conclude they be married, for here they come.  Enter Eutrapelus with Eugeneia in a Scholar's habit. 
How like you marriage joys Eutrapelus?  Eutrap. 
O, they're an Antepast of Heaven: Mahomet I see was no fool, for making his paradise a place for the fruition of Genial pleasures; He knew what it was to be truly happy: But done't our wives look like fine smooth-faced Lads in this manlike habit? I wonder Jupiter comes not from Heaven to make one of 'em his Cupbearer, as he did Ganymed? come, let's sing a little.  They all sing. 
Come let us sing the time invites, our joys are now completed,  
All oppositions are blasted and defeated.  
Come let us kiss, my spirit's high, and fain would be in action,  
Now we will laugh, and those defis, in Love who breed a Faction;  
We will not fear an ill-looked Dean, nor mirth-disturbing Proctor,  
We'll now carouse, and sing and bouse, before the gravest Doctor.   

ACT. 5. SCENE 5.  Whilst they are singing, enter Eugenes signior, Demosthenes, Eugenes juniors Father. Eug. sen. 
WHat? are you all mad, you make such a disturbance in the College? as for you two Eutrapelus. and Aphobos, we know you for notorious Rogues, but these two pretty young lads, I believe were seduced by you.  pointing to the women. 
Were you not Sweethearts?  Eugeneia. 
Yes Sir, we were led hither by 'um.  Eug. sen. 
Well, go your ways for this time, and come no more into this lewd company.  Exeunt Eugeneia, Anaiskuntia. 
As for your part Aphobos, you were catcht lately with a wench, and one (who by report) was light enough either for you to bear her, or her to bear you: she's in plain terms a common whore, and not fit company for a Student.  Aphob. 
Sir, either give her a better Character, or I'll give her one written in your warmest blood; she is my lawful wife, and he that blemishes her reputation with the smallest scandal, I'll rip him up alive, and sacrifice him to her honour, which ever was untainted and immaculate.  Eutrap. 
The other also was my wife, although invested in a Scholastic habit.  Eug. Sen. 
If you are married, you've forfeited your places.  Aphob. 
It is confessed, we have; nor do we now desire to keep 'em longer: our names are out o'th' Butteries, and our persons out of your dominions.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
Here's mad do: but (I believe) my sons too fast for ever getting out to marry.  Eug. Sen. 
But tell me true, were those your wives?  Eutrapel. 
They were Sir, and here they are again in their own habit and attire.  Enter Eugeneia and Anaiskuntia in lose morning gowns. Eug. Sen. 
I wish you joy then, O my Niece, he turns to Eugeneia. are you married too? You're well provided for in having married Eutrapelus.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
Well, 'twas happy that my son was kept close prisoner; although my daughter has broke lose, he, I believe, is far from thoughts of marriage:  whilst he speaks, enter Eug. Jun. leading Morphe. 
Oh! what a sad object do my eyes behold? I'd rather have been deprived o'th' light, then ere have seen this sight: How now, sir? How broke you lose, and got that wench?   

ACT. 5. SCENE 6.  Eug. Jun. 
I Got her, Sir, by my Uncle's means.  Eug. Sen. 
How, Sirrah! by my means? I never saw her in my life before; and would sooner have seen you both hanged together: What? D'ye make me your Pimp?  Eug. Jun. 
Nay, Sir, we're hanged together so fast, that there's no cutting the rope now. Marriage can't be dissolved until death.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
What wicked wretch was't married you?  Eug. Jun. 
My Uncle, Sir.  Eug. Sen. 
'tis a notorious lie;  
I never saw this woman before.  Morph. 
Yes, Sir, but you have: I was the Mary Allcock you married.  Eug. Jun. 
And I the Philip Lovelass, whom you asked whether I could love this Lass or no, and then married us.  Eug. Jun. Fath. 
Well, Brother, I see now we're outwitted, and that young people may see more with their eyes in their heads, then old men with their eyes hanging at their girdle. We'll go in now, and seeing they are married, prepare a feast for'um: I have a living at my disposal that I'll bequeath to Aphobos, because he's poor: And as for you, Eugenes, because you have contrived your Plot so well, I declare you my sole Heir: I'll not vex myself in vain.  

To vex when mischiefs are quite past and gone,  
Is the next way to bring more mischiefs on.   
Finis Actus quinti.    

Epilogue to the Spectators.  

Eug. Jun.  
BEfore you all, my Father does declare,  
That he intends me for his lawful Heir.  
My Poverty henceforth I'll not bewail,  
For now I may, Top and Top gallant sail  
In th'Ocean of his wealth, not will I fear  
The Shipwreck of my Fortunes, whilst I steer  
My course, so you, like th' Laplanders, will sell  
A Gale of your Applause, my Sails to swell.     

A Catalogues, of Books sold by Henry Marsh at the Prince's Arms in Chancery-lane, lately Published.  

THe English Lovers, or a Girl worth Gold, both parts, so often acted with general applause, now newly form into a Romance, by the accurate Pen of I. D. Gent.  
A Compendious Chronicle of the Kingdom of Portugal, from Alphonso, the first King, to Alphonso the sixth, now reigning.  
Those excellent Fancies entitled, Don Juan Lamberto, or a Comical History of our late Times, first and second Part, by Montelion Knight of the Oracle.  
☜ A new English Grammar for Foreigners to learn English, with a Grammar for the Spanish, or Castilian Tongue, with special Remarks on the Portuguese Dialect, for the service of her Majesty, whom God preserve, by James Howel Esq.  
The Life and Death of that Reverend Divine, and excellent Historian, Dr. Thomas Fuller, lately deceased.  
Studii Legalis Ratio, or Directions for the study of the Law, under these heads, the Qualifications for the Nature, Means, Method, Time and place of the Study, by W. Philip's of Gray's Inn, etc. price 1●.   

Books Published this Term.  
RUmp, or an exact Collection of the choicest Songs and Poems, from 1639. to 1661. Relating to the late Times, by the most eminent Wits.  
A new discovery of the French Disease, and Running of the Reins, their Causes, Signs, with plain and easy directions, of perfect curing the same, by R. Bunworth, the second Edition corrected with large Additionals.  
Fragmenta Aurli●a, or Court & State Jests, in noble Drollery, True and Real, ascertained to the Times, Places, and Persons, by T. S. Gent.   

PLAYS.  
Thracian Wonder.  
Gurton's Needle.  
Catalogue of Plays  
Love's Mistress.  
Plutus.  
Queen of Arragon  
Obstinate Lady.  
Maid's Revenge.  
Lascivious Queen.  
Noble Ingratitude  
Enchanted Lover.  
Amorous Fantasy.  
Poor Scholar.   
FINIS.