likeness of Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle 
Here on this Figure Cast a Glance,  
But so as if it were by Chance,  
Your eyes not fixed they must not stay,  
Since this like shadows to the Day  
It only represent's; for Still,  
Her beauty's found beyond the Skill  
Of the best painter, to embrace,  
Those lovely Lines within her face,  
View her Soul's Picture, judgement, wit,  
Then red those Lines which Shee hath writ,  
By Phancy's pencil drawn alone.  
Which piece but Shee, Can justly own.    

PLAYS, Never before Printed.  
WRITTEN By the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and Excellent princess, THE Duchess of Newcastle.  
LONDON, Printed by A. Maxwell, in the Year M. DC.LX.VIII.   

TO THE READERS.  
IT is most certain, That those that perform public Actions, expose themselves to public Censures; and so do Writers, live they never so privately and retired, as soon as they commit their Works to the Press. Which should persuade wise Persons to be very cautious what they publish; especially in a malicious, and envious Age. I do not say, that this is so; but if it be, I can truly say, that I am sorry of it, merely for the Age's sake, and not in relation to myself, or my Books; which I writ and disperse abroad, only for my own pleasure, and not to please others: being very indifferent, whether any body reads them or not; or being red, how they are esteemed. For none but poor and mean spirits will think themselves concerned in spiteful Censures.  
Having observed, that the most Worthy and most Meritorious Persons have the most envious Detractors, it would be a presumptuous opinion in me to imagine myself in danger to have any: but however, their malice cannot hinder me from Writing, wherein consists my chiefest delight and greatest pastime; nor from Printing what I writ, since I regard not so much the present as future Ages, for which I intend all my Books.  
When I call this new one, Plays, I do not believe to have given it a very proper Title: for it would be too great a fondness to my Works to think such Plays as these suitable to ancient Rules, in which I pretend no skill; or agreeable to the modern humour, to which I dare acknowledge my aversion: But having pleased my Fancy in writing many Dialogues upon several Subjects, and having afterwards ordered them into Acts and Scenes, I will venture, in spite of the critics, to call them Plays; and if you like them so, well and good; if not, there is no harm done: And so Farewell.   

The ACTORS NAMES.  

MAster Save-all.  
Captain Valour.  
Lieutenant Fightwell.  
Cornet Defendant.  
Will Fullwit.  
Harry sensible.  
Dick Traveller.  
Get-all, an Usurer.  
sergeant Plead-all, a Lawyer.  
Doctor Cure-all, a physician.  
Roger and Tom, Get-all's two Men.  
Two other Men, one the Serjeants, the other the Doctors.  
A Drawer.  
Mistress Peg Valourosa Sister to Captain Valour.  
Mistress Jane Fullwit, Will Fullwit's Sister.  
Mistress Anne sensible, Harry Sencible's Sister.  
Mistress Informer, an old decayed Gentlewoman.  
Mistress Prudence, Daughter to Master Save-all.  
Several Wooers, and Others.    

PROLOGUE.  
NOble Spectators, Our Authoress doth say,  
She doth believe you will condemn her Play.  
Here's no design, no plot, nor any ground,  
Foundation none, not any to be found,  
But like the World's Globe it hath no support,  
But hangs by Geometry: nor hath it fort  
To make it strong, nor walls to keep out censure,  
Yet she will valiantly stand the adventure.   

THE Sociable Companions; OR, THE FEMALE WITS: A COMEDY.  

ACTUS I.  

SCAENA I.  Enter Colonel, Captain, Lieutenant. COLONEL. 
What News, Captain?  Capt. 
It is an old saying, That ill News hath wings, and good News no legs.  Col. 
Hath thy News wings, or no legs?  Capt. 
It hath wings; for it is reported for certain, that the Army shall be disbanded, and all the Soldiers Cashiered.  Lieut. 
So, then the Army will be a flying Army.  Capt. 
But yet we must beg upon Crutches.  Lieut. 
I believe we should have been stronger, if we had been of any other Profession, having had a better employment to have busied our minds and persons with; for Soldiers for the most part, their time and lives are idle, having no great employment or business, but when they march or fight, which is not every day or week; and when we are in Quarters or Trenches, we have nothing to do but to watch by turns; and therefore we are forced( for want of better employment) to pass our time with the Wenches in the Suburbs, or the Baggages that follow the Army, with whom we get the Pox.  Capt. 
But how shall our Pocky bodies live, if we be cashiered?  Lieut. 
We must endeavour to get into some Hospital for Cure.  Col. 
That will be more difficult, then to get into a Court for Preferment, Lieutenant.  Capt. 
The truth is, we may more easily get into a Court, then to have a Cure in an Hospital; and we may more easily be cured in an Hospital, then get Preferment in a Court; for Soldiers are never regarded in time of peace; for when a War is ended, Soldiers are out of Credit.  Col. 
And in time of War Courtiers are out of fashion.  Capt. 
Faith, Soldiers regard not new Modes, no more then Wars give ear to Flattery.  Lieut. 
But Courtiers do oftener turn Soldiers, then Soldiers Courtiers.  Col. 
Faith, Lieutenant, much alike; for Courtiers are too weak to make Soldiers, and Soldiers are too rough to make Courtiers.  Lieut. 
How, come Courtiers weak, Colonel?  Col. 
As Soldiers come weak; for Courtiers bring the Pox into an Army, and the Soldiers carry it out of an Army; for there is no resemblance between a Courtier and a Soldier, but by that disease; for the Pox make Courtiers and Soldiers like unto like.  Capt. 
Well, leaving the Pox to the Courtiers, how shall we that are Soldiers, live?  Lieut. 
We must rob on the King's high-way.  Capt. 
So we may chance to be hanged.  Lieut. 
If we be, the care of a livelihood will be at an end.  Cap. 
But I would not venture my life for a little money.  Lieut. 
How ignorantly you talk Captain! for do not all Soldiers venture their lives in battle for other mens sakes or Quarrels, and have no reward for their venture and danger? and will such Soldiers be afraid to venture their lives for themselves, and their lives maintenances?  Capt. 
But there is hope to escape death in a battle, but there is no hopes for a man to escape death when as his neck is in a nouse.  Lieut. 
There is as little hopes to escape death when as we have no means to live; and for my part, I had rather be hanged then starved; but howsoever, I am a Soldier both in spirit and profession, who fears not death; and you seem to be a Soldier in name, and not in nature; you have the title of a valiant warring man, which is a Soldier, and the nature of a Coward; otherwise, you would not talk of escaping death, which shows you fear death.  Capt. 
If you were not my approved friend, you should find I were no Coward as to fear to fight with you; but I am afraid to die a base death, as a thief, and not like a Soldier.  Col. 
How strangely you talk, Captain! are not all Soldiers thieves? Do not all Soldiers Plunder? Do not they take the spoils of their Enemies? As first, kill their enemies, or take them prisoners, and then seize on their goods, and all by Force? and all Force is Hostility, and Hostility Robbery; and do not only the common Soldiers, but we Commanders, nay, our Generals do the same? and yet you name Thievery and Robbery base, which baseness you and many more of all degrees and qualities have practised and lived with this dozen years to my knowledge, and it hath been a practise ever since the world began: for Adam and Eve robbed Gods Apple-tree, for they were forbid to take, or eat, and yet they did both; and did not Cain kill his brother Abel? and was not the Devil an enemy from the beginning? Thus Robbery, Malice, Murder and Disobedience begun from the worlds Creation, and will last to the worlds Dissolution; by which we may see, that our profession, which is to rob, fight and kill, is the most ancient profession that is.  Lieut. 
Dear Colonel, you have spoken most learnedly and truly.  Cap. 
But yet there is difference between a Robber, a Murderer, and a Soldier; for it is Honourable to Kill our Enemies in the open Field: and it is Lawful to possess the spoils.  Col. 
Many times we Kill our Friends, especially in Civil wars; and when we Fight with Foreigners, they never did us hurt, injury, or malice; but what do you talk of such Honour as Warring-Honour, which is a fair Name to a foul Act; and of such marshal Law, as is Lawless and most unjust, as to take away other Mens Rights? 'tis all one to call black white, or white black. But there is no such thing as Law, nor no such thing as Honour, but what Man feigns or makes; but the truth is, that which Men call Law and Honour, is Power and Force: for, the Strongest give Law; and Power makes Honour as it pleases.  Cap. 
Your learned discourse, Colonel, shall not persuade me to Rob on the High-way.  Lieu. 
What will you do then, Cap. to get a living?  Cap. 
I will think of some honester way to live.  Colo. 
You had best Trade, and cousin your Customers, that is a very honest way of Living; or serve and cousin your Master, or deceive your mistress, that is an honest way of Living; or to Flatter some great Lord, or lye with some Old Lady, that is an Honest way of Living: or betray, or accuse some Rich Man, to get a Morsel of his Estate for a Reward, that will be an honest Living: or Debauch a young Heir to live on his Luxuries and Riots, or Corrupt young Virgins and Married Wives with Pimping, that will be an honest and honourable Living: or be a Broker for the Courtiers, to help them to sell their old Clothes: or a Rook: or be a Huckster for the Courtiers, to bring them suitors and Petitioners for a share of their Bribes, that will be an honest Living: or frequent Taverns and Ordinaries that are customed with Noble Guests, and leave them to Pay thy Share, that will be an honourable Living; and an Hundred such ways there be, to get an honest Living.  Cap. 
No, I will go to Plow and Cart first.  Lieut. 
What? will you be a Slave to a Horses Tail?  Col. 
No, no, I will tell you a better way for You, and the Lieutenant, and myself to Live, than that: Let us get some of our Poor Whores that followed the Army; and go into some New-found Land, to help to increase Plantation.  Cap. 
Content Colonel, but let me tell you, it will be but a rotten Plantation.  Col. 
Faith all Plantations are but rottenly begun; but the more rotten the Planters are, the better; for rottenness doth, like as dung, help to Manure the Land.  Lieu. 
Faith Colonel, I like your Proposition so well, as I would be there.  Capt. 
So do I, wherefore let us fit and provide for our Journey presently, and sing this Song.  

The SONG.  

( 1)  
Capt. Let's go to our New Plantation;  
Let's go to our New Plantation;  
And there we do hope,  
No fear of a Rope;  
Nor hanging in that Blessed Nation.   

( 2)  
Lieut. Let's go to our New Plantation;  
Let's go to our New Plantation;  
For here's no Regard,  
Nor Soldiers Reward,  
In this most Wicked Nation.   

( 3)  
Col. Let's go to our New Plantation;  
Let's go to our New Plantation;  
Each Man with his Whore,  
Although We be poor,  
And Rottenness is our Foundation.    At the end of the Song, Enters Peg Valorous. Peg. 
Then the Captain sings the burden of an old Ballet.  Capt. 
Get thy coat Peg,  
Get thy coat Peg,  
Get thy coat Peg,  
Get thy coat Peg, and go away with me.  Peg. 
You seem to be very merry Brother, that your Officers and you sing so cheerfully.  Lieut. 
By your favour Mistress, some for Joy do weep, and some for Sorrow sing; witness the Lamentation, and the Poetical Swan; and Tears are often produced by Laughter.  Peg. 
What is the the cause of your sorrowful singing?  Capt. 
The Army is Cashiered, and so the Soldiers are undone.  Peg. 
It were better the Soldiers should be undone, than the Kingdom.  Cornet. 
Will you speak against your Brother's Profession?  Peg. 
Yes, if it be for the general Peace of my Native Country.  Capt. 
But now there is Peace, how shall we live?  Peg. 
You must live in Peace by your Wits, as you lived in the Wars by your Valours.  Lieut. 
But all the Cavalier Party lost their Wits when they lost their Estates.  Peg. 
Then you must Petition the State of this Kingdom to build so large a Bethlam as to put in all the poor mad Cavaliers.  Capt. 
Your advice is good, and you shall deliver their Petition, Peg; but before I go to Bethlem I will go tell Harry Sensible and Will Fullwit the News.  Lieut. 
And the Cornet and I will go drink some Cordial Waters to revive our Spirits.  Enter Anne Sensible, and Jane Fullwit. An. 
Do you hear the News of the Cashiered Army?  Peg. 
Yes.  Jan. 
And are not you troubled at the News?  Peg. 
No; for I had rather my Brother should be poor with Safety, then rich with Danger; but your Brothers, although they have not been such Active sufferers, yet they have been Passive sufferers.  Jane. 
Yes, faith, they have had their shares of Losses; but now my Brother is poor, he begins to study.  Peg. 
What doth he study, his Losses?  Jan. 
No, he studies Books.  Peg. 
What books? the Crumbs of Comfort, and the sovereign salue, for the Cure of the Soul?  Jan. 
All our Brothers had need to Study and red a Cure for their Estates; but let us go and bear them Company. Exeunt Anne and Jane.  Enter Mistress Prudence to Peg. Prud. 
Cousin Peg, where is your Companions, Nann and Jane?  Peg. 
They are in their Chamber, envying your good Fortune, and repining at their own ill Fortune.  Prud. 
What good Fortune do they envy me for?  Peg. 
For being the only Child, and so the only Heir to a rich Father.  Prud. 
If their Brothers had been as wise as my Father, not to have been so vain to have showed their Valour, they might have been so prudent as to have kept their Estates; and so you and they would not have lost your Portions by the folly of your Brothers.  Peg. 
It was not through their Folly, but through their Loyalty that they entered into the action of War.  Enter Nann and Jane. Nan. 
O Mistress Prudence! 'tis a wonder to see you abroad, or at home without a Gallant.  Prud. 
When I come to see great Beauties, such as you are, I dare not bring any of my Gallants, for fear you should rob me of them.  Jane. 
It would be a Charity to bestow some of the richest of your suitors among us poor Virgins, to make Husbands of; and to choose one of the poorest of our Brothers to be your Husband.  Prud. 
Indeed it would be a Charity to your Brothers, but no Charity to myself.  Enter Master Saveall, Mistress Prudence's Father. Sav. 
Save you young Beauties.  Peg. 
We know not whether our Beauties will save us; but we shall hardly save our Beauties long; for old Father Time will take them from us.  Sav. 
Then you must get good and rich Husbands in the time of your Beauties.  Peg. 
There are three difficult things to get; as first, to get a Husband; next, a good Husband; and last, a rich Husband; for Men care not for handsome Wives, but rich Wives; for had not my Cousin Prudence, your Daughter, Wealth as well as Beauty, she might have many Lovers; but not a Husband amongst them all.  Sav. 
Cousin Peg, you may get a rich Husband, not only by the means of your Beauty, but by your Wit.  Peg. 
I have heard, that in former Ages, that many Men did live by their Wits; but in this Age Wit is out of fashion, and so out of practise, and so poor, as 'tis almost strange  Enter Captain. Sav. 
I am talking to your Sister my Cousin Peg, and I perceive she despairs of getting a Rich Husband.  Capt. 
She hath reason, being poor her self; wherefore Peg, and her two dear Friends, Mistress Anne, and Mistress Jane, must led Apes in Hell.  An. 
If the Devil hath as many Apes as Mens follies, we shall never be able to led them all.  Sav. 
For fear my Daughter should led Apes in Hell, I will go and get her a Husband.    

ACTUS II.  

SCENA I.  Enter William Fullwit, and set at a Table with many Books about him. He reads. Enter to William Fullwit, Captain and Harry Sensible. Harry. 
BAccus and Mercury help thee, and have mercy on thee, for I perceive you are falling into Perdition, as from a Drunkard to a Student; from a merry Companion, to a dull stoic; from a Wit to a Fool.  Will. 
I pray thee Harry leave me, for I am studying to be a wise Man.  Capt. 
Faith Will, Wisdom is not learned by the Book, but by Practise, which gets Experience; for Wisdom lives with living Men, more then with dead Authors: But prithee tell us, what Books are you reading?  Will. 
I am reading Plutarch's Lives, thucydides, Machiavel, Commineus, Lucan, Caesars Commentaries, and the like.  Harry. 
Why such Books, since you are neither Greek nor Roman? So that those Histories, or Historians of other Nations will not benefit thee, nor thy Native Country for their Laws, Customs, or Humours; for what are the Laws, Customs, Humours and Governments of the Romans, Greeks, Turks, or Persians to thee, or thy Native Country?  Capt. 
You say true, Harry; and what are their Wars, or Peace to us, unless the same Cause, the same Places, and the same Men, were again in our time? For put the case you were a General, and were to fight a battle, and would make Caesar your Pattern, it were a thousand to one but you would show your self rather a Fool, then a Caesar; for first, the Causes of War would be different; the situation of War different; the Humours of the Soldiers different; the Habilements, Postures, and Breeding of the Men different; the Means, Supplies, Supports, arms, Time, Place, and Seasons different: So that if later Commanders should follow the Precepts of former Commanders and old Warriers, they would be losers; and instead of being famed good Soldiers, get the reproach of being ill Conductors.  Harry. 
You say right, Captain; and as for Foreign Government, History is of no use, unless you would bring an Innovation; for which, had you power to make Combustions, you would sooner ruin the Kingdom, then alter the Government; besides, in all Alterations, Fortune hath greater power, and is more predominant then Prudence: wherefore leave thy impertinent Studies.  Will. 
I will take your Counsel.  Enter Lieutenant Drunk, and comes Reeling in. Lieut. 
Captain— Captain— I would fain speak, very— fain speak a speech— but I shall be out of my speech, before I begin, and that would be a very fowl disgrace— to a man of parts.  Capt. 
'Tis true, Lieutenant; but a drunken man hath no parts, for he is a departed man, Lieutenant.  Lieut. 
But I would have declared the strange effects— the Magical effects— the Mystical effects— and the tyrannical effects.  Capt. 
All which Effects meet in one Effect, which is to be drunk, Lieutenant.  Lieut. 
That is true Captain— but the strange Postures, several Humours, senseless Brains, and disabled limbs— is that which I would declare.  Will. 
They will declare themselves, Lieutenant, without the help of rhetoric.  Lieut. 
You are a fool, Will; for they will want help, as you may perceive by me— up—  He Reels as he speaks. Will. 
But Words are too weak to support them.  Lieut. 
But Words may excuse them.  Enter Mistress Peg. Peg. 
Brother, there is a Gentlewoman without, that came with the Lieutenant, who says she will not go without him.  Capt. 
Lieutenant, there is a Gentlewoman stays to support thee to thy rest.  Lieut. 
It is a Cousin of mine— newly come out of the Country— but I will go to her— up—  Capt. 
We will help to led thee to her.  They led him forth. Exeunt Men. Enter Mistress Jane, and Mistress Anne, to Mistress Peg. Jane. 
Where is the Lieutenant? 'tis said, he is so drunk, he can neither stand nor speak.  Peg. 
The truth is, he doth both, but ill-favouredly.  Enter Mistress Informer. Peg. 
Mistress Informer, you are welcome.  Inform. 
I know that, otherwise I would not visit you; but I seldom fail seeing you once a day, unless I be out of Town; but now I came out of Charity, knowing you were all alone.  Peg. 
How did you know we were all alone?  Inform. 
Because I met your Brother, Captain Valour, and Harry sensible, Mistress Ann's Brother, going up the Street.  Jane. 
Was not my Brother with them?  Inform. 
No; I saw Will Fullwit go to the Play-house.  Jane. 
What Play-house? the Gaming-house, or the Acting-house?  Inform. 
The Acting-house.  An. 
Our Brothers might be so kind, as sometimes to carry us to Plays.  Peg. 
So they would, if we were such Cousins as the Lieutenant had here; but being their Sisters, they will not be troubled with us.  Inform. 
Now you talk of the Lieutenant, it puts me in mind, I met him in the Street leading a Gentlewoman.  Peg. 
I believe she rather lead him, then he her.  Inform. 
I know not which, lead which; but neither of 〈…〉 them did walk steadily, for sometimes they went towards the Wall, and then presently towards the Kennel.  Peg. 
It was a sign they were both drunk. But Mistris Informer, have you brought the new-fashioned handkerchief to see.  Inform. 
Yes, but I have left it in your Chamber.  Peg. 
Come let us go see it. Exeunt all but Jane.  Enter Will Fullwit muffled in his Cloak. Will. 
Sister Jane, is Harry sensible within?  Jane, 
I cannot tell whether he be returned; but he was abroad?  Will. 
Pray see; and if he be return'd, bid him come to me.  Enter Harry sensible, Will Fullwit upon the Ground, he groans, Harry sensible runs and embraces him. Harry, 
Dear Will, what is the cause you lye so sadly?  Will. 
Oh, oh, I am wounded, wounded.  Harry. 
Where? where? tell me dear Will.  Will. 
I am killed, I am killed.  Harry. 
By whom?  Will. 
I die, I die.  Harry. 
Hold Life a little time, so long to tell thine Enemy, that I may sacrifice him on thy Tomb; Oh he is dead: dear Will, I wish to die, since thou art gone.  Exit Harry sensible worshipping. After he was gone out, Will Fullwit rises and Dances,— then enter Harry sensible, with Captain Valour, Lieutenant Fightwell, and Cornet Defendant, all stand as in a Maze. Capt. 
Harry, did not you tell us, that Will Fullwit was killed?  Harry. 
I thought him dead.  Capt. 
Then how the Devil comes he to be alive again!  Enter Mistress Anne sensible as in hast. An. 
O, where is Mr. Fullwit's body?  He Addresses to her. Will. 
Dear Lady, I, for thy dear sake,  
Will travail to the Stigean Lake;  
There let us meet, and then embrace,  
And look each other in the Face.  An. 
O the Lord, what doth he ail?  Enter Mistress Peg Valourosa. Will. 
O stand away,  
For there breaks day;  
The Sun doth rise,  
dazzling mine Eyes:  
For you the Goddess are of Light,  
She's a fiend that governs Night.  Harry. 
By heaven he is stark mad.  Will Fullwit draws his Sword. Will. 
Here will I fight  
As Champion Knight.  The Ladies run squeeling away. Will. 
What, are they gon?  
They do me wrong.  Lieut. 
You have frighted them away.  Harry. 
Dear Will, put up thy Sword, for we are all thy Friends.  Will. 
You are my Foes, I say,  
Wherefore away.  Harry. 
This madness is worse, far worse then death.  Harry sensible, Weeps. Will. 
What Harry, do you weep in earnest?  Harry. 
How can I choose, to see my friend in a mad distemper?  Will. 
Why Harry, I have only acted an Intrigue.  Capt. 
A pox of your Intrigue; for you have frighted the Ladies, and disturbed your Friends.  Lieut. 
Nay faith, he hath disturbed the Ladies, and frighted his Friends.  Harry. 
But how came you to be in this humour?  Will. 
With seeing a new Play.  Cornet. 
But you have not acted an Intrigue yet.  Will. 
That's true, by reason the Ladies went away, and Harry's Tears would not suffer me to make more changes; besides I had not time to express, or act my Intrigue; but if you will call the Ladies again, you shall see me act an Intrigue and Catastrophe, as it ought to be.  Harry. 
Hang Intrigues and Catastrophes, and play the fool no more.  Capt. 
Prithee Will, go with us to a Tavern, and there we will have several sorts of Wine, changes of music, and variety of Mistresses, which are better Intrigues and Catastrophes then are acted upon the Stage.  Will. 
Content, let us go, to dry up Harry's rheum with Sack, and to let him see I am still a merry Companion.  Harry. 
If I had known you had dissembled, I would not have discovered my love.  Will. 
Why? Love and Deceit is an Intrigue; but the truth is, I did this, that you and the Captain should not believe that I was a dull stoic.  Enter Dick Traveller, as newly return'd home. Will. 
Dick Traveller, art thou return'd, old blade, from thy Foreign Travels, to thy home-Friends?  Dick. 
I confess Foreign Travellers are apt to lose home-Friends.  Will. 
But you have not lost us, for thou art hearty welcome.  Harry. 
'Tis a sign that your Travels have been as could as far, for you have brought white Hairs home with you.  Lieut. 
He could not avoid a white head; for he hath been at the North Pole, which hath turned his Hairs to Snow.  Dick. 
I have been near the Pole in Greenland.  Cornet. 
Is that Country fertile?  Dick. 
Yes, of Frost and Snow.  Cornet. 
Is it Populous?  Dick. 
'Tis very populous of Bears and Foxes.  Lieut. 
Is it a good place for Plantation?  Dick. 
Yes faith, for if there were a Colony of Adulterers sent thither, they might Plant Chastity; and if a Colony of Drunkards were sent thither, they might Plant Temperance; also if a Colony of Prodigals were sent thither, they might Plant Frugality.  Will. 
But might not a Colony of Fools plant Wit there?  Lieut. 
It were excellent Policy, to sand all the Fools thither.  Dick. 
Those Parts of the World would not hold them, if all be sent; for most Men are Fools.  Capt. 
Why fools in what part of the World soever, they live in Twilight; and near the Pole is Twilight half the year.  Will. 
Prithee let's leave talking of such could Elements; for the very hearing of the North Pole hath chil'd my Spirits, as if they were hard frozen, and all my thoughts are turned to Snow; wherefore let's go to a Tavern, and drink Sack to thaw them.  Dick. 
I shall bear you Company.  Will. 
Faith thou hast reason to drink ten Fathom deep to melt thy frozen body, and thaw thy could blood that is turned to Ice, that Spirits of life may swim in full large veins.  Dick. 
You are full of Poetical fancy.  Will. 
'Tis a sign I did never travail to the North Pole, for fancy lies in East and inkhorn brains; the truth is, every Poets brain is a Torrid Zone; wherefore let's go to the Tavern.  Harry. 
That is under the ecliptic Line.  Enter Peg and Anne. Capt. 
Are you come to see the Intrigue?  Peg. 
No, but we are come to see, whether Will Fullwit be not dead again.  Will. 
No; but I am not so well, but that these good fellows, are going to give me a Cordial.  Dick. 
To me these Ladies are Cordials.  Will. 
You have not tasted them yet.  Dick. 
May I presume to salute you, Ladies?  He Salutes them. Harry. 
How do you like them?  Dick. 
It is not a question to be asked, nor I to give an answer.  Capt. 
Prithee come away, and leave Complementing.  Enter Jane. Exeunt Men. Peg. 
Did you see Dick Traveller.  Jane. 
Yes, I met him, and all the crew of them.  Peg. 
I have seen thy Brother stark mad.  Jane. 
I never knew him otherwise.  An. 
He did only show an Intrigue.  Enter Mistress Informer. Peg. 
Mistress Informer, you are welcome; but what News brought you hither?  Inform. 
Hearing Master Traveller was to see you.  Peg. 
He was so.  Inform. 
Pray what new fashions hath he brought from the North Pole?  Peg. 
I do not perceive any new fashion.  Inform. 
Lord, how reports prove false! for I heard he had a strange fashioned svit of Clothes which he did wear, made all of Ice, and a great thick Cap of Snow, which he wore over his head; and that the motions of his Body and Behaviour were trembling and shaking, as if he were affrighted, or in a could fit of an Ague, and that his language was such a stuttering and stammering language, as not any man in these parts could understand him.  Peg. 
I saw no such Clothes or Cap that he wore, nor heard no such stuttering, stammering language.  Inform. 
Indeed, as to his Garments, I did not believe reports; for I said to those persons, that  told that report for a certain truth, that I could sooner believe he was accoutred in a svit of Fire, rather then of Ice; but they replied, That those parts of the World, so near the Poles, would not permit Fire; for the extreme could did put out all sorts of Fire; but pray tell me whether he doth not look very pale, withered, dry and old.  Peg. 
He doth not look as if he were a very young man, because he is in some years; but he looks well for his age.  Inform. 
What kind of Men, doth Mr. Traveller say, are the Natives at the Pole?  Peg. 
I did not hear him say, there be either native Men or Women.  Inform. 
If not, how did he get a Mistress?  Jane. 
Such colds Elements do not require Courtship.  Inform. 
But are there not any living Creatures there?  Peg. 
Yes, there are Bears; and in some of the Islands near the Poles, there are white Bears, with read Patches on their heads.  Inform. 
That is very fine, and surely very becoming; wherefore I will inform the Ladies, who I am sure will follow that fashion.  An. 
How can they be in the Bears fashion?  Inform. 
Very easily; for they may have a white satin Gown, and a read Velvet Cap; and so be like the white bears, with the read Patches on their heads.  Peg. 
If they imitate nothing else of the Bear but that, it will not be much a miss.  Inform. 
Fare you well; for I long to carry the News of the Fashion. Exit.  Enter Will Fullwit. Will. 
Is Harry returned?  An. 
No. Exeunt Women.  Enter Harry. Will. 
I was going to the Tavern, believing you and the rest of our Companions, were gone to the Tavern.  Harry. 
I stay for Dick Traveller; but Captain Valour, Lieutenant Fightwell, and Cornet Defendant, are gone before to the Tavern, to provide us good Wine.  Will. 
They will be drunk before we come.  Harry. 
Surely they will forbear drinking until we come.  Will. 
How should they forbear drinking, if they went to taste the Wine?  Harry. 
They went to bespeak good Wine, and not to taste it.  Will. 
Hang them, they will taste pint after pint, and quart after quart; for they have not so much Temperance as to stay.  Enter Dick Traveller. Will. 
Dick, a Pox take you for staying, for the Captain, Lieutenant, and Cornet have drank all the Wine in the Tavern by this time.  Dick. 
They cannot drink all.  Will. 
Yes but they can; for they will pour in and out so fast, as I am confident they have not left so much as the droppings of the Tapes.  Harry. 
Come, come, let us make hast to them.  Will. 
Yes, when all is drunk up.  Harry. 
I will warrant you there will be enough left to quench our drought.  Will. 
I hate quenching of droughts; I would be like a Ship, to swim in an Ocean of Wine.  Enter Mistress Informer. Informer. 
Are your Sisters within?  Will. 
Yes. Exeunt Men.  Enter Peg, Jane and Anne. Peg. 
Mrs. Informer, what is the reason you are returned so soon?  Inform. 
The reason is, that I had forgot to tell you of the good company I was in the other day.  Jane. 
We heard that you were in Sociable Company.  Inform. 
I was so; and the Company hath past their time with all the delightful Recreations that could be devised, for the time they associated together; for sometimes the Ladies, and their courting Servants, played at Cards, and sometimes danced, and sometimes feasted, and some of the fairest Ladies sat to have their Pictures drawn, whilst their Lovers or Friends gazed on their Faces; which was an occasion to cause those Ladies to put their Faces into their best Countenances; and some of the Gallants did make their Mistresses portraitures, both in Verse and Prose; whilst the Painter did draw their Pictures in oil or water-Colours.  Peg. 
It seems the Gallants were Courtly to the Ladies,  Inform. 
They were so.  Jane. 
Doth the Men court the Women publicly or incognito?  Inform. 
They Court both ways; for every Man hath, his particular, which he doth usher; but if they like each other's Lady and Mistress better then their own, or Love's variety, or would be liked, or loved by more then his own Woman: They make Love incognito, as in a mystical or Allegorical way; which Allegorical-Love's making, or woings, pleases the women infinitely, as by feered eye-glances, languishing looks, smothered sights, and metaphorical speeches; as also wrying their Necks, with their eyes fixed on the ground, or falling, or stumbling upon them, as if it were by chance; and many the like Behaviours, Garbs, Motions, Countenances and Discourses, as I cannot remember to repeat all; and some are so excellent and well experienced in the Art of making Love incognito Allegorically, or Metaphorically, as I have known or observed one Man to make half a dozen Women at least at one time, believe he hath been deeply in Love with each of them.  Jane. 
And do the Women receive these fashioned Courtships in the like manner?  Inform. 
Yes, for they are as expert as the Men in those ways; the truth is, that although every Man and every Woman hath a Staple Servant, and a Staple Mistress, yet they traffic all in common.  Jane. 
It seems they are common Wooers: But farewell, I must go speak with my Brother Fullwit.  Inform. 
You must go to the Tavern then.  Jane. 
Why, is he gone to the Tavern?  Inform. 
Yes, I did hear him, Mr. sensible, and Mr. Traveller say, they would go unto the Crown-Tavern.  Peg. 
I am sure my Brother and his Officer are there before them.  Jane. 
It is not to be endured they should spend so much, and we want so much as we do.  Inform. 
If I might advice you Ladies, I would have you go and bear them Company.  Jane. 
We will take your advice, although not to drink, yet to quarrel, and you shall be our Conductor.  Peg. 
Those that see us will believe that Mrs. Informer is a Bawd, that conducts three young Wenches to some Gentlemen in the Tavern.  Inform. 
Come, come, for if I be, it is not the first time I have been taken for a Bawd. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Captain Valour, Lieutenant Fightwell, and Cornet Defendant, as in a Tavern, who drink whilst they talk. Cornet. 
CAptain, let us not stay for Will, Harry and Dick, but drink in the mean time.  Capt. 
Content, let us sit close, and drink hard; for here is the best Wine; it was drawn out of Bacchus Cellar, wherefore it is divine Wine.  Lieut. 
If it be divine, we should pray before we drink.  Capt. 
No you must drink first, as into a drunken humour with divine Wine, and then pray when the Spirit is strong in you.  Lieut. 
It is unnatural, Captain, at least unusual for marshal men to pray; in so much, that if a Soldier should be seen or heard to pray, he would be thought a Coward.  Capt. 
That is not so, for we were beaten by those that Prayed.  Cornet. 
But some of our Party prayed.  Capt. 
If they did, it was so softly, as Jupiter could not hear them: But I have drunk myself into a loving humour, I wish I had a Wench.  Cornet. 
We will knock for the Chamberlain.  Enter Chamberlain. Capt. 
Chamberlain, get us some Wenches.  Chamb. 
There are none to be had, Sir.  Capt. 
You are a lying Rogue; for there hath been no age, nor there is not a Kingdom that is not fully stored with them.  Chamb. 
There is store in the Kingdom, if it please your Worship, but they are not for Soldiers in this age.  Capt. 
You lye, you Rogue, they are for Soldiers in all ages, even in the worst of times; for they will venture their lives to follow the Army for the pleasure of a Soldier.  Chamb. 
An't please your Worship, it is for the hopes of gaining some of the Soldier's Plunder; but now that your juleps can neither get Plunder nor Pay, they defy you, and will not come near you, but laugh at you, and say you are like old rusty arms out of fashion, and that they are now for the Court, not for the Camp.  Capt. 
damned Fortune, shall the Court rob us, both of wealth and pleasure?  Enter Will Fullwit, Harry sensible, and Dick Traveller, the Captain drinking when they came in. Will. 
Hold, hold, Captain, what a Devil, are you mad to drink before we come?  Capt. 
You are mad to stay so long, would you have us choked for thirst?  Dick. 
Come, come, we shall overtake them.  Capt. 
But you shall not, for we will, now you are come, sit and drink healths, as health for health.  Will. 
Is there Wine enough to drink Healths?  Capt. 
Enough, Will, enough.  They sit down and call for Wine. Capt. 
Dick, you are not returned as a Traveller a la mode.  Dick. 
Would you have me a la mode de Bear, or a la mode de Fox.  Capt. 
Why not as well as other Travellers, that return a la mode de Ape, and a la mode de Ass?  Will. 
Well, leaving the Bears, Foxes, Asses and Apes; here is a health to the North Star.  Harry. 
That is a very could Star, Will.  Will. 
Therefore I will drink the health in Sack, to heat it into a Sun.  Harry. 
And I will drink a health to Virtue.  Capt. 
You had better put Ice into your Wine then Virtue; for she is so could, not any heat can thaw her; but I will drink a health more proper, for Dick Traveller's company, which are the seven deadly sins.  Dick. 
They belong more to the Courtier then the Traveller; yet I will pledge them, were they seventy seven sins, and drink them all at a draft.  Lieut. 
But that is unconscionabe to drink them all, leaving not any for your Friends.  Dick. 
All those I account my Friends, that have wit enough to get, or invent more; for new-fashioned Sins are as easily devised as new-fashioned Garments.  Will. 
Who is the maker of new-fashioned Sins?  Dick. 
The Devil.  Enter Jane, Anne, Peg, and Informer. Capt. 
But what the Devil makes these Women come hither?  Will. 
Ladies, this is boldly done, to come and drink healths with us.  Capt. 
'Tis but changing of Sisters, and they will serve us for Wenches, and Mrs. Informer, my Cornet or Lieutenant shall pay her for their Company.  Jane. 
We came not to drink, but to complain that our Brothers should be so unkind, unworthy and unnatural, to sit drinking to fill their Heads, and empty their Purses, when we want Meat and Clothes.  Peg. 
You can be Jovial, but we must be Melancholy; you sing Catches, when we  shed Tears.  An. 
You have many Bottles of Wine, when we want Smocks to our backs.  Will. 
But you have silk Gowns.  Jane. 
Yes, such as you buy at the second hand, or at some Broker's shop, which are more rotten then the Jews Clothes in the sourness.  Harry. 
Why, what would you have us to do?  An. 
Not to sit drinking in a Tavern most of your time; but to seek and endeavour to get some good Offices and Employments that may help to repair your ruins, and to maintain us according to our births and breedings.  Will. 
Faith, we may seek, and not find; beg, and not get.  Peg. 
But yet you shall not need to spend that little which is left, in drink.  Lieut. 
If it were not for drink, we should run mad; but drink drowns all sorts of sorrows.  Capt. 
Leave your Caterwouling, and get you hence.  Peg. 
We will not go home, unless you will go with us.  Will. 
Yes, so it will be thought, you are our Wenches, not known you are our Sisters.  Jane. 
We care not what people think, knowing ourselves honest.  Harry. 
Come, let us go, otherwise they will scold so loud, as all the Street will be in a hubbub to know the cause. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Father and his Daughter. Father. 
DAughter, you being now Marriageable, I am resolved to provide you a good Husband.  Daught. 
I am willing to be a Wife; but pray pardon me if I ask you what you mean by a good Husband?  Fath. 
A good Husband, is a prudent Husband.  Daught. 
That is a miserable and jealous Husband.  Fath. 
No, no, mistake me not, for miserableness and jealousy are extremes, but Prudence is a mean.  Daugh. 
If I must mary according to a Moral mean, which is between extremes, then I must mary a man of a mean Birth, mean Breeding, mean Estate, mean Wit, mean Judgmenr, mean Understanding, mean Esteem, mean Behaviour, and the like.  Fath. 
No Daughter, I only desire you not to be an extreme fool, as to mary to extreme misery; but since you dispute for wisdom or discretion, I'll give you leave to make your own choice, which will tend either to my grief or comfort; to your own happiness or unhappiness; and I shall see whether you can act as wisely, as you pled wittily. Exit Save-all, and then enters a suitor.  Enter the young Lady, and a young Gentleman a suitor to her. svit. 
Madam, your Beauty is the Gaze or Blaze to all the World; nay, 'tis not only a mortal but an immortal Light, and as the soul, not of one human Creature but of all the World; which immortal light and soul I am very desirous to enjoy, and to make you my Wife.  Lady. 
Sir, I shall readily consent, upon condition you make me a present of the Alkahest, and a jointure of the Elixir. Exit Lady, suitor Solus.  svit. 
This Lady is not to be won with compliments of Learning.  Enter another Gentleman. Gent. 
Well met Sir; have you seen the Lady?  svit. 
Yes.  Gent. 
And how do you agree?  svit. 
Just as chemists and Fire.  Gent. 
How is that?  svit. 
That is, they do not agree at all, but delude and across each other.  Gent. 
Nay, faith, if she be in a across humour, I will not pled and present my svit to her to day.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Harry, and walks in a Musing Posture. Enter Captain. Captain. 
WHat is the cause you walk in such a musing posture Harry?  Harry. 
I have lost my Mistress.  Capt. 
Is that all?  Harry. 
Yes, and too much.  Capt. 
Art thou mad?  Harry. 
No.  Capt. 
Have you any Wit?  Harry. 
Why do you ask?  Capt. 
Because you are Melancholy for a Woman.  Harry. 
It would make you or any man Melancholy, to lose such a Woman as my Mistress is.  Capt. 
Faith, not unless my Mistress were the only Woman in the World.  Harry. 
She was the only Woman in my affection.  Capt. 
'Tis a sign thy affection is a poor, mean, low, narrow, and little affection, that hath but one Room for one Mistress; whereas, my affection is as large as the Grand Signior's Seraglio,— for it will hold Hundreds of Mistresses, with all their Maids and Slaves attending upon them; the truth is, my affection will hold all the Women in the World; for I love all Women-kind, in so much as I can never want love so long as there be Women, or a Woman; and surely I can never want a Woman so long as the World doth last; for the World doth not increase any thing so numerously as Women; for all Armies, Nations, Cities, Towns, Villages, Houses, Churches and Chambers are for the most part filled with Women; and since there are so many Women, it were a madness for to be Melancholy for the loss of one woman: wherefore put off this whining humour for shane, and get another Mistress; and if I might advice you, I would have four and twenty Mistresses, at least, at one time, and so you will have a Mistress for every hour of the day and night.  Harry. 
But my Mistress is a woman that doth excel all her Sex.  Capt. 
In what?  Harry. 
In Beauty, Wit and Virtue.  Capt. 
Nay, if you talk of Virtue in a Mistress, you are mad indeed.  Harry. 
May not a Man have a virtuous Mistress?  Capt. 
No, for it is against the rules and nature of virtue, to live in a Mistress; for virtue is an humble Servant, when as a Mistress is an imperious Tyrant; for Women are insolent and imperious so long as they are made Mistresses, which is to be flattered, attended and served with Mens estates, bodies and souls; but when they come to be wives, which is to be slaves, perchance, they may have so much of Virtue, as to be somewhat humble, when as they are forced to serve, and cannot command; but a wise Man will never have a Mistress, although he should live unmarried, but he will keep a Maid-servant for his use, and so take and turn away so often as he pleases: But is thy Mistress dead?  Harry. 
No, but she is Married.  Capt. 
Why then, she may be her Husband's servant, and thy Mistress still?  Harry. 
But she is too Virtuous to be my Mistress now she is another Man's Wife.  Capt. 
I prithee be not so wedded to the opinion of Womens Virtues; for that will hinder thee from pursuing a Lover's design.  Harry. 
I will endeavour to forget this Mistress, and get another.  Capt. 
Now you speak like a wise Man.  Enter Will to the Captain and Harry. Will. 
Captain, and Harry, I was even now wishing for either of you.  Harry. 
If you be as fortunate in all your wishes, as in either of our being here, you will be the most fortunate and happiest Man that ever was; but tell us whether it it was your affection, appetite or reason, which was the cause of your wish.  Will. 
Not any of them; for it was my wit that caused that wish; for I have made a Copy of Verses, which I would have you both red, and then give me your opinion.  Capt. 
For my part, I had rather your appetite had wished for our good fellowship; for I had rather drink a health, then red a Copy of Verses; the truth is, I cannot endure Verses.  Will. 
But if they were a Copy made in your Mistress praise you would like them.  Capt. 
I should hate my Mistress, throw the hate to the Verses, were she never so worthy, or the Verses so witty.  Will. 
That makes thee love mean common Women.  Capt. 
They are fools that will wooe a nice Lady with flattering Verses, when they may have a free Wench, with plain Prose; and as the old saying, joan in the dark is as good as my Lady.  Harry. 
Nay faith, but they are not; for all common Wenches are unwholesome Sluts.  Will. 
Well, leaving joan and a Lady at this present, I would have you red a drunken Song, which I made to sing between every glass, for singing dries the Throat, and drought requires drink, all which will make us drink with more gust, and the wine will taste the quicker.  Capt. 
Faith, I hate verse so much, as the Song will make me vomit up my drink; besides singing brings down rheum, and to have salt rheum mixed with sharp wine, will cause such an unpleasing taste, which will make us more sick then Crocus Mettallorum, and spoil the wine; wherefore burn your Song; besides, let me tell you, as your friend, that 'tis very dangerous for a Drunkard to be a Poet; for the vapour of Wit, and the vapour of Wine, joined together, will overpower your brain, and may make a man so mad, as to be past recovery; but when the brain is only muddl'd with the vapour of drink, sleep cures it, and drink causes sleep; whereas Poetry banishes sleep from the Sences, and heats the brain into a Fever.  Will. 
But the hotter the brain is, the quicker the Wit is, and Poets drink Wine to heighten their fancy.  Capt. 
Let me tell you, Poets drink Wine to please their senates; and it is an old Saying, That when Drink is in, then Wit is out; wherefore burn thy Verses.  Harry. 
Do, Will, take his Counsel, and burn them.  Will. 
I will follow your advice, and burn them to light a pipe of Tobacco.  Capt. 
That is worse then if you should red them, or sing them; for you will suck them back into your brain, with the smoke, through your Pipe, and so have your Verses to return smoking hot, which will either smother your brain, or give your brain such an appetite, as you will never leave versifying. But come let us go and consult how they may be destroyed.  Will. 
Content.  Enter Peg. Capt. 
Peg, have a care, and stay at home.  Enter Mrs. Jane Fullwit, Mrs. Anne sensible, to Mrs. Peg Valorosa, who walked in a Melancholy posture. An. 
Always Melancholy?  Peg. 
Who can be merry, that is poor?  Jane. 
Who lives more merry then Beggars?  Peg. 
But our Birth and Breeding will not suffer us to beg.  Jane. 
No, but we may live by our Wits.  Peg. 
But Wit was killed in the War.  An. 
You are mistaken, it was only banished with the Cavaliers; but now it is returned home.  Peg. 
I cannot perceive it; for though I see many Fools, yet not a true natural Wit amongst them; for there is the Rhiming-fools, the Intrigue-fools, and the fine-languaged fools.  Jane. 
The truth is, the multitude of Fools obscure the Wits, like dark Clouds that obscure the Sun; but let us endeavour to shine through those Clouds.  Peg. 
That cannot be.  Jane. 
Let us try for our profit.  Peg. 
But Word-Wit will not make us rich.  Jan. 
I grant it, but Deed-Wit will do us good, wherefore let us endeavour to get rich Husbands.  Peg. 
We may endeavour it, but not obtain it.  An. 
But if we could get them by our ingenuity, we know not where they are to be had.  Jane. 
Madam Informer will give us Intelligence.  Enter Harry. Harry. 
Is your Brother within the House?  Jane. 
I think he is, I will go and see.  Exeunt Women. Enter Will Fullwit. Harry. 
Well, I shall never trust any man more for your sake, nor never believe in Friendship.  Will. 
Why?  Harry. 
Do you ask why, when you who I did believe was so true a friend, would never forsake me at a time of need, when not only my Life, but my Honour was engaged in a quarrel, for which I choose you for my second, and then to fail me at the appointed time, was base; for had you been my Enemy, your Honour should have brought you into the field.  Will. 
Faith, I was so engaged in a Company of Ladies, I could not come.  Harry. 
Can there be a greater engagement then Friendship, Honour and Honesty?  Will. 
Can there be a greater friendship then the love of Women, or more honourable then to serve the Female sex? and as for honesty, 'tis not worth any thing, besides, it is a fool, it brings a Man to ruin, at least a Man can never thrive by it.  Harry. 
O judgement, how hath it erred, to choose a Knave for a Friend, a Coward for a Second!  Will. 
So I perceive, rather then you will want an Enemy, you will quarrel with your own judgement, you had best fight a Duel with that.  Harry. 
Go, go, and kiss a Mistress, and leave talking of Duels.  Will. 
I mary, this is friendly advice; for in Kisses there is life and pleasure, in Duels death and danger; but let me tell thee, Harry, I have done thee a more friendly part, in not appearing, then ever I did thee in my life; for I have saved thy life, at least thy estate, and have kept thy Honour pure and free from stains, and I have increased thy honour.  Harry. 
Which way?  Will. 
Thus; I have let thee go into thee Field for thy Honour, and have kept thine Enemy out, not by force, but by persuasion; which persuasion hath so wrought on him and his Second, as they will both meet in the same place you quarrelled in, where shall be the same Company that drank, and was drunk there, and before that Company he will confess his fault, and ask pardon, which is as much satisfaction as an honest or honourable Man can desire; and it would be against the Laws of good fellowship to fight a sober Duel, for a drunken quarrel; wherefore agree, and be friends with our drunken Comrade.  Enter Captain, Cornet, Lieutenant, and Dick Traveller. Capt. 
We heard you very high in words, I hope you two dear friends will not quarrel?  Will. 
We shall not quarrel like Enemies; but Harry is angry, because I will not let him fight.  Capt. 
Fight, with whom will he fight?  Will. 
With Tom Ranter.  Lieut. 
Hang him, he will get no honour with fighting with him.  Capt. 
Come, come, I will conduct you to a better pastime then fighting vain Duels; for there are a Company of Ladies which I am acquainted with, that have made a merry meeting, only they want Men to keep them Company.  Will. 
Let us go; come Harry, will you go?  Harry. 
Yes, with all my heart.  Enter Peg. Capt. 
I will but speak a word to my Sister.  Exit Captain. He Whispers. Peg stands as if she were Musing. Enter Jane and Anne. An. 
What are you thinking of now?  Peg. 
I was reasoning with myself, why those Women that was neither factious, ambitious, covetous, malicious nor cruel, should suffer in the Wars with the men.  Jane. 
The gods would not be just, if the Women did not suffer for the Crimes of the Men, since all Men suffer for a single crime of a particular woman, witness our Grandmother Eve.  Enter Madam Informer. An. 
O Madam Informer, have you made an Inquiry?  Inform. 
Yes, mary have I, and find the Mass of Wealth is in the possession of Usurers, Lawyers and Physicians.  Jane. 
I believe Usurers and Lawyers may be very rich, for the Civil War hath made those sorts of Men like as Vultures, after a battle, that feed on the Dead, or dying Corps; but I cannot perceive why Physicians should be the richer for those times.  Inform. 
There is great reason why they should gain the more; for both Men and Womens bodies are corrupted, and weakened with Melancholy, Grief, Malice, Revenge, Envy, Wrong, Injustice, and the like; so that their bodies are full of the Scurvy, which their Misfortunes hath bread.  Peg. 
But have you found amongst these rich sorts of Men, any Widowers, or bachelors?  Inform. 
Yes, that I have, three bachelors; the richest amongst them, is one Mr. Get-all an Usurer; the other sergeant Plead-all a Lawyer; the third Doctor Cure-all a Physician.  Jane. 
Which is the richest?  Inform. 
The Usurer; for he is worth Two hundred thousand Pounds.  Peg. 
Well, we will employ our Wits to get these Men.  Inform. 
But Wit without Assistance, will do no good; wherefore you must get your Brothers, and their Friends to help you by their industry.  Jane. 
Your Counsel is good.  Exeunt,— only Peg meets her Brother, Captain, as coming in. Peg. 
Brother, are you well, you look so Melancholy?  Capt. 
In body, but not in mind, Peg. Exit Peg.  Enter Will and Harry, the Captain, and the rest. Harry. 
Captain, what makes thee so sad?  Capt. 
That which would make any Man sad, want of Money.  Will. 
We may be as sad as you for that; but to be poor and Melancholy is a double misery.  Capt. 
Life cannot be merry, when it hath not any thing to live upon.  Enter Dick Traveller. Capt. 
Dick, where have you been?  Dick. 
I have been peeping through a Key-hole into a Room, where your three Sisters are in serious council with Madam Informer.  Capt. 
Pray God she is not instructing of them to be Wenches.  Will. 
Faith, I fear it; for she would make an ingenuous Bawd.  Capt. 
I will go and part them.  Dick. 
Pray do not; for perchance the Womens Wits may do you more service then your own; for I heard them say, their Brothers must assist them; and surely they do not believe you would be their Pimps.  Harry. 
No, for they know we shall rather be their Murtherers then their Pimps.  Dick. 
Then let them alone; and whilst they are in a council, let us go to the Tavern and drink.  Capt. 
But we have no Money.  Dick. 
I have a little credit to run on the Score.  Harry. 
Faith, if we go to the Tavern, the Girls will come crying after us.  Dick. 
I tell you they are so busy about some Female-design, as they will not miss us.  Exeunt All but the Cornet. Cornet. 
I must stay to tell a lye, because they shall not follow us.  Enter Peg, Jane, and Anne. Cornet. 
Ladies, your Brothers bid me tell you, they are gone about some serious business; but they will return soon.  Peg. 
When they will. Exit Cornet.  Enter Informer. Peg. 
Mrs. Informer, how shall we three agree in the choice of the three Rich Men?  Inform. 
You must draw Lots, and I have made them ready.  Jane. 
I pray Jupiter, I may draw the Rich Man.  An. 
I pray Jupiter, I may draw him.  Peg. 
We must take our Lot, let it be what it will. Jane draws first. They Draw.  Inform. 
Which have you drawn?  Jane. 
I have drawn sergeant Plead-all.  Anne sensible draws. An. 
I have drawn Doctor Cure-all.  Peg. 
Jove, I thank thee in giving the Usurer to me.  Inform. 
Now go to your Brothers, and inform them of your designs.  Jane. 
Faith, they will rather laugh at us, then help us.  An. 
But yet we dare not do any such thing without their knowledge.  Peg. 
I am confident my Brother will assist me.  Jane. 
Come, let us go to them. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter Captain, Harry, Will, Dick, Lieutenant and Cornet; as in the Tavern. Will. 
WEll, this Wine is so fresh and full of Spirit, as it would make a Fool a Poet.  Harry. 
Or a Poet a Fool.  Dick. 
Then here's a Health to the most Fools in the World.  Capt. 
Then you must drink a Health to the whole World, that is one great Fool.  Lieut. 
Prithee Dick do not drink that Health, for it will choke thee; for the World of Fools is too big for one draft.  Dick. 
Then here's a Health to the wisest Man.  Cornet. 
You may as well drink a Health to a drop of water in the Ocean.  Capt. 
Faith Dick, that health is so little, it cannot be tasted; besides, I do not love droppings.  Dick. 
Then here's a Health to the Honest'st man in the World.  Will. 
That Health is more difficult then the last? for it is as rare to know an Honest man, as to see a Phoenix.  Dick: 
Then I will drink a Health to the Chastest Woman.  Lieut. 
You might as well drink a Health to the Queen of the fairies, which is an old Wives-tale; for Chastity lives only in the Name not in Nature.  Dick. 
Then here's a Health to a Common Courtesan.  Harry. 
A Pox of that Health, I will not pledge it.  Will. 
Then here's a Health to the Muses.  Capt. 
It is ashame for a Soldier to drink a Health to the Muses.  Lieut. 
The truth is, I hate a Poetical Soldier.  Harry. 
Is it not lawful for a Soldier ( Captain) to have Wit?  Capt. 
No; for Wit makes the minds of Men soft, sweet, gentle, and effeminate; insomuch as those that have Wit, are not fit for Soldiers; for Soldiers should have resolute minds, cloudy thoughts, hard hearts, rough speeches, and boisterous actions.  Cornet. 
The truth is ( Captain) there is as much difference between a Poet and a Soldier( which is Wit and Courage) as between a Calm and a Storm.  Capt. 
You say true, Cornet; for certainly the best Soldiers are born and bread in the uncivillest Nations.  Lieut. 
No doubt of it, Captain.  Dick. 
Then here's a Health to the Graces.  Capt. 
That Health is three times worse then the former, which was nine times too bad; for when did you know a Soldier to have Grace?  Lieut. 
The truth is ( Captain) it is unnatural for a Soldier to have Grace.  Capt. 
You say true, Lieutenant.  Will. 
Setting aside, the Muses and the Graces, here is a Health to the Furies.  Capt. 
I mary Sir, that Health sounds like a Soldier's Health, and I will pledge it were the Glass full of Wounds. Here Harry, here's the Furies Health.  Harry. 
Faith, Captain, we shall be furiously drunk with the Furies Health.  Cornet. 
It will give fire to your brain.  Harry. 
Yes, and burn out my Reason.  They Drink. Capt. 
Now I will begin another Health; Here Gentlemen, here is Death's Health.  Dick. 
Good Captain, do not drink Death's Health, for it will make our Wine so could it will never warm us; besides, dead Wine will never make us drunk; and if we had not a desire to be drunk, we should not have come to now the Tavern.  Capt. 
Dick, you must drink Death's Health, for Death's Health will make you dead drunk.  Dick. 
Then I will drink it, and invite you and the rest of the Society to my Funeral.  Capt. 
Then we will carry thee to thy bed with Ceremony, as to thy Grave, sounding a dead March with empty Pots, trayling our Tobacco-pipes instead of Pikes, and spew out Wine instead of Tears.  Enter Peg, Jane, and Anne, as to the Tavern. Harry. 
Did not I tell you they would come.  Capt. 
What come you for now?  Jane. 
Not to complain or chide, but to desire your assistance to our Designs.  Will. 
Let your Tongues and tails assist you.  Peg. 
No, our Wits and Honesty shall assist us.  Capt. 
Pray Jove you have either.  Harry. 
Well, let us hear your Designs.  An. 
It is to get us Rich Husbands.  Capt. 
Sister ●eg, tell me truly, is the Design so honest, and honourable as only to get a Rich Husband.  Peg. 
There is no deceit in the end, but only in the way or means.  Capt. 
Come, let us go, for perchance our Sister's honest Wits may get us Honourable Means to live with.   

SCENE VI.  Enter Lady, and her Second suitor. suitor. 
MAdam, I was here some little while ago, to tender my duty to you; but hearing you were not in a pleasing humour, I durst not venture to present my svit, for there is a neck of Time for Lovers to speed.  Lady. 
Sir, I perceive you are well learned in old Observations.  svit. 
As for Learning of all kinds and sorts, I defy it, in so much that I cannot red the Horn-book; neither am I able to remember the relation of any Discourse, if there be words in it that consist but of two syllables.  Lady. 
How will you make Love then?  svit. 
Thus Madam, I love you with all my heart.  Lady. 
What Jointure will you make me?  svit. 
Love.  Lady. 
What maintenance will you give me?  svit. 
Love.  Lady. 
Can Love feed, Cloth and maintain me?  svit. 
Love is the true Elixir, and above all price, being above Gold; it is a Creator, Madam.  Lady. 
If your Love be a Creator, then my Love shall be your Creature. Exit Lady, suitor Solus.  svit. 
The Devil himself cannot work upon a Womans Nature.  Enter the Lady, and a third suitor. svit. 
Madam, I hear you are Rich.  Lady. 
What then Sir?  svit. 
And I am poor.  Lady. 
What then?  svit. 
Therefore I desire you would be pleased to mary me.  Lady. 
For what?  svit. 
To mend my Fortune.  Lady. 
I am no cobbler, Sir. Exit Lady, suitor Sol.  svit. 
The Devil take Women's Tongues, for they make Men Fools.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter Harry, and Doctor Cure-all. Harry. 
DOctor Cure-all, hearing of your famed, hath caused me to fend for you, to assist me with your help.  Doctor. 
What is your Disease?  Harry. 
That you must tell me; but my pain lies in my bones.  Doctor. 
I understand your Disease; you must be put to a diet, and you must sweat, and bathe, and something else, if need require it.  Harry. 
I hope I have not the Pox, Doctor?  Doctor. 
You may say it is a could, or so; but do you not feel a tenderness in your Nose, or a weakness in your Legs?  Harry. 
My Legs are somewhat weak.  Doctor. 
Do you spit much?  Harry. 
Sometimes, but not much.  Doctor. 
It were well if you did; for that Evacuation is good for young Men. Gives him a Fee.  Doctor. 
By no means Sir.  Harry. 
Pray Doctor take it.  Doctor. 
Well Sir, I shall prescribe some Remedies.  Harry. 
I shall come to your House, and Visit you sometimes, Doctor.  Doctor. 
You shall be welcome Sir; if I am not mistaken, your Name is Mr. sensible.  Harry. 
It is so Sir, your Servant Doctor.  Exit Doctor. Enter Captain and Will to Harry. Capt. 
Harry, it seems you are sick, for we met the Doctor; but what says he to thee.  Harry. 
He says, I have the Pox.  Will. 
A Plague of him, but he hath the Money.  Harry. 
I lent him two Pieces upon Interest.  Capt. 
For the hopes of thy Cure: But Will Fullwit, have you got your Sister into the whereas service?  Will. 
Yes, and he likes her Service very well.  Capt. 
But Harry, how doth your Sisters design go on?  Harry. 
Faith slowly; for this is the first time I ever saw the Doctor, but I hope it will come to a good issue in time; but how far is your Sisters design gone?  Capt. 
SO far as I am almost ready to summon him to a Spiritual Court, and yet I have neither spoken to, nor seen the Usurer Get-all; but when a business is well laid, it is half done.  Harry. 
But if it be to appear before the Spiritual Court, it will be cast forth.  Capt. 
I will warrant you I shall get such a judge, as will end the cause on my side; but both of you must be assistants; wherefore let us go to Dick Traveller, where we shall meet my Lieutenant, and Cornet, whom I have well instructed.  Enter Dick, Lieutenant and Cornet. Capt. 
O, you have prevented us; are you ready for the design?  Dick. 
Yes.  Capt. 
But do you understand the cause well?  Dick. 
So well as I shall not need any further Instruction; but where's my Fee?  Capt. 
But stay, the Cause is not ended; for though a Bribe go before, a Fee comes after.  Lieut. 
If Judges and Lawyers should not be feed before Causes were decided, they would not be so rich as they are; but Doctors usually have their Fees after their Prescriptions and Advice; wherefore, Will Fullwit, that must be; Doctor Feel-pulse must not be feed before hand.  Capt. 
I only fear Will is not learned enough to play the part of a Doctor of physic.  Will. 
Never fear me, for I shall out-argue the college.  Dick. 
Harry, and your Lieutenant, and Cornet must act as under Officers and Clerks.  Cornet. 
Let Harry act the part of a Clerk, and leave us to be under Officers.  Capt. 
No, no, Harry must be a Pleader; but I never thought Soldiers should turn Judges, and Lawyers before now.  Dick. 
Why not as well as Priests turn Soldiers.  Capt. 
Come, let us go about this great affair.  Enter Peg. Capt. 
Peg, have you got your Child ready?  Peg. 
Yes.  Will. 
Have you Confidence to outface the Court?  Peg. 
I can face the Court; but I fear I cannot outface or out-case the Usurer Get-all.  Capt. 
Never fear it, Peg.  Peg. 
Pray Jove we speed, for the good of the Common-wealth of Cavaliers.  Capt. 
Well Peg, be ready against I sand for you.  Exeunt Men. Enter Anne, and Informer, to Peg. Anne. 
How is your Design like to prove?  Peg. 
Well I hope; but Mrs. Informer, have you seen Jane Fullwit since she went to be a Lawyer's Clerk?  Inform. 
I have, and she  told me, that her Master is much pleased with her service; but I going often to visit his Clerk, the sergeant having notice of it watched when I was with him, and was very angry, and said I was such a Bawd as corrupted all the Apprentices, and Lawyer's Clerks in the City. But I fear for all your industry, your Designs will not come to that effect you desire.  Peg. 
Why, what hinders them?  Inform. 
Why, those three rich men, that I informed you of, do eagarly wooe the old Lady Riches.  Jane. 
Are the men young, or old?  Inform. 
Neither; they are of a middle age.  An. 
Then she will never mary any of them; for old Women love young Men; besides, she can mary but one.  Peg. 
Come, come, it is impossible, but we shall be preferred before the old Lady.  Inform. 
I wish you may.  Peg. 
I will warrant you, we shall have good success if you act your part well.  Inform. 
Never fear me, for I shall out-act you all.  Peg. 
Come, let us go to the Child, to put a dry Cloath to it, and to wrap it warm with a Mantle, for fear it catch could; for if it get could, my Brother will be angry.  Exit Women. Get-all the Usurer sitting casting up Accounts, Enter his Man Roger. Roger. 
Will your Worship give me leave to speak freely to you?  Get-all. 
Yes, Roger, freely.  Roger. 
I wonder your Worship will starve your life, to fill your Purse.  Get-all. 
O Roger, when the Purse is full, the life cannot starve for want.  Roger. 
'Tis true, he that is Rich may eat if he have a stomach; but you will neither eat nor sleep, but wear out your life in casting up the Accounts of your Riches, and yet have not an Heir to leave it to.  Get-all. 
Wealth never wants Heirs.  Roger. 
Indeed such Heirs, that will give no thanks for what they do receive?  Get-all. 
But I can make the Meritorious my Heirs.  Roger. 
You may make Heirs, but not Merit, Sir.  Get-all. 
Do you think there are not Men of Merit?  Roger. 
Faith Sir, Merit died many years since, and left no Posterity.  Enter Tom his other Man. Servant. 
Sir, there is one Captain Valour desires to speak with your Worship.  Get-all. 
These poor Cavaliers haunt me like Spirits, they will not let me rest in peace.  Roger. 
Faith Sir, they are like Hounds, that hunt an after-Game.  Get-all. 
But they shall not catch my Wealth; for they have no Lands to Mortgage, nor Goods to Pawn.  Roger. 
I believe they have not any thing to pawn or Mortgage, unless it be their Honesties.  Get-all. 
But poor Honesty will pay no Debts; wherefore tell the Captain, I am not to be spoken with.  Exit Servant. Roger. 
But your Worship said, you would leave your Wealth to Men of Merit.  Get-all. 
Yes, Roger, I may leave them my Wealth when I die; but not give it them whilst I live.  Roger. 
But if the Cavaliers be Men of Merit, they may be starved before you are like to die; for you are not fifty years of age, and healthful and temperate, whereas they are weak with want and disorders.  Get-all. 
Want and disorders seldom go together; wherefore we'l endeavour to get the old Lady Riches.  Roger. 
What, to be disorderly?  Get-all. 
No, to be Rich.  Roger. 
But would you mary this old Lady Riches in earnest?  Get-all. 
Yes; but I would not see her before I am Married, for fear I should dislike her; and that would disquiet my mind between two Passions, Dislike and Covetousness.  Roger. 
But you have a Mass of Wealth already, so in my judgement you should desire no more.  Get-all. 
You are a Fool; for I would be as Rich as the Indies, and then I should be more then half as Rich as the King of Spain.  Roger. 
But what would you do with it, if you had it?  Get-all. 
I would fight with the Great Turk.  Roger. 
But you said, That you would give your Wealth to Men of Merit.  Get-all. 
Why so I shall, if I give it to Valiant Soldiers, to fight against the Turk.  Roger. 
But would your Worship head your own Army?  Get-all. 
Yes.  Roger. 
Truly that would be a kind of a Miracle; for I never heard of an Usurer that was Valiant.  Enter the Servant again. serve. 
Sir, Captain Valour is without still, he will not go away.  Get-all. 
I cannot speak with him.  serve. 
He bids me tell you, That he doth not come to borrow Money, for he knows you will lend him none; but he says, He came to inform you of a business that highly concerns you.  Get-all. 
Well, bring him in; but be sure Roger and Tom, that both of you be in the next room, for I do not love to be with a Soldier alone.  Roger. 
But you dare trust yourself at the head of an Army.  Get-all. 
Yes, yes, but that is against the Turk; but hold your prating and sand in the Captain.  Exit Roger. Enter Captain. Capt. 
Mr. Get-all, I am come to inform you, that there is a young Gentlewoman brought to bed.  Get-all. 
What is that to me.  Capt. 
It is to you, if it be true what they say, which is, that you got it.  Get-all. 
If she can prove I got it, I will not only keep the Child, but mary the Woman; but I did believe I was always insufficient.  Capt. 
You speak as an honest Gentleman, and I shall tell her what you say. Exit Captain.  Enter Roger. Get-all. 
Roger, I am provided of an Heir, for I have a Child laid to my Charge.  Roger. 
Of the Captain's begetting.  Get-all. 
I believe so; but the Wench lays it to my charge.  Roger. 
Faith Sir, I never saw any thing like a Woman, near your Worship, since I came to be your Servant, which is above Twenty years; as for your old Cook-maid, she is nothing like a Woman.  Get-all. 
Why, what is she like then?  Roger. 
Like a Spirit, whose substance is wasted in hellfire.  Cet-all. 
Well Roger, but I must be careful to avoid this Wenches plot against me, and there is no way, that I can perceive, to avoid it, but to mary as speedily as I can; wherefore carry the old Lady Riches that Present, and let her into my Chamber, and if it be possible speak to her self and wooe her for me.  Roger. 
Faith Sir, I am as bad a wooer as yourself; for I never wooed any Woman but your Cook-maid for a Breakfast, or to make me a Bag-pudding; and how such kind of Wooing will fit a Lady, I cannot tell.  Get-all. 
But you can tell her, how Rich I am.  Roger. 
That I can, and in my Conscience that is as good a wooing-Plea as any is.  Get-all. 
And you may tell her that one of my age is fitter to match with one of her age, then a younger man.  Roger. 
Those two Arguments will spoil all, especially that of mentioning her age, for Women cannot endure to hear of their age, were they as old as Methuselah.  Get-all. 
Well, use what Arguments you shall think fit.  Roger. 
Shall I Wooe as the young Gallants, in Court Language?  Get-all. 
What Language is that?  Roger. 
Fine Phrases, and Mode-expressions, which is a mixture with French words, and high compliments.  Get-all. 
How high?  Roger. 
As high as nonsense, which is beyond Understanding.  Get-all. 
Prithee use what Language or Expressions you will.  Roger. 
But put the case I should wooe so courtly, as to get her for myself?  Get-all. 
If you do Roger, I shall wish you joy.  Roger. 
I thank you Sir. Exit Roger.  Enter Tom his other Man. Tom. 
Sir, there is a young Gentlewoman come in a Coach, who desires to speak with your Worship.  Get-all. 
I'll pawn my life it is she, that desires to lay her Bastard to my Charge.  Tom. 
Certainly, she is none of that trade, for she is come in a Coach.  Get-all. 
Why a Hackney Woman may ride in a Hackney-Coach; there is no Law against it, Tom.  Tom. 
But in my conscience this Gentlewoman looks as modestly, as if she were honest.  Get-all. 
But a modest Countenance is oftentimes made use of only to cover the face of Adultery.  Tom. 
Then you will not speak with her?  Get-all. 
No, for there is Antipathy between me and Women-kind, since this Accusation.  Tom was going out, and returns back. Tom. 
Sir, here is the Captain.  Enter Captain. Get-all. 
What would you have now?  Capt. 
I am come to summon you to the Spiritual Court.  Get-all. 
I shall obey; but how shall I find the Court, for I was never there?  Capt. 
I will go but to the next house to speak with a friend, and I will come and direct you to the place.  Get-all. 
I pray do. Exit Captain.  Enter Roger. Get-all. 
I am glad you are not gone to the Lady, for I am summoned to the Spiritual Court.  Roger. 
The Captain's coming made me stay, but what are you summoned for, a bag of Money?  Get-all. 
Indeed that is the design, but the pretence is, for getting the Child, I  told you was laid to my Charge.  Roger. 
Why, this is the misery of Wealth, a man can never be quiet; and you being very rich, it will be the policy of the Spiritual Court, to make you maintain all the Whores, and their Bastards, in the City.  Get-all. 
Like enough.  Roger. 
And if there be an overplus, you may leave that to the Meritorious; so then you will maintain 'vice in your life, and Virtue when you are dead.  Get-all. 
But surely my Innocency will defend me from the injury of Injustice.  Roger. 
Faith, Injustice is too prevalent for Innocency, in these days.  Get-all. 
Well, let us go, for I must obey the Laws.  Roger. 
But Sir, you are not provided of Lawyers to pled on your side.  Get-all. 
I shall not need them, for I can declare my own Innocency. Exeunt Get-all and Servant.  Enter as in a Court of Justice, Dick, as prime Judge of the Spiritual Court, the Lieutenant and Cornet as two Clerks, Harry sensible as a Lawyer, or Pleader, for the Plaintiff; Will Fullwit as a Physician; Mrs. Peg Valorosa the Plaintiff; Informer, as a Midwife and Witness; and Captain Valorous as their Friend; when all sit in Order. Enter Get-all and Roger. Harry. 
Most Reverend Judge, here is a Gentlewoman come, who desires Justice.  Dick. 
What is her Cause?  Harry. 
Her Cause is, That she being a virtuous young Woman, hath behaved her self modestly, and hath kept a good Reputation in the World( which all her Neighbours know) until such time as this Mr. Get-all got her with Child, which Child he will neither own nor keep, nor mary the Woman.  Dick. 
Have you any Witnesses?  Harry. 
We have such a Witness as the Law allows of, which is a Midwife.  Get-all. 
I require the Witness to be heard.  Dick. 
Will you witness that the Child is Mr. Get-all's.  Inform. 
I will witness the words of the Labouring Woman.  Dick. 
Declare them.  Inform. 
About Twelve a Clock at Night I being in bed, and fast asleep, there comes a Man, and raps, and raps, and— raps at the Door, as if it had been for life, which in truth proved so; for it was to fetch me to bring a sweet Babe into the World; but I hearing one rap so hard, I was afraid, my Door, being but a rotten Door, should be broken to pieces; I ran to the Window to ask, who knocked so hard; but the man knocked on, and I called out; which knocking and calling took up half an hours time; but at last, my Tongue being louder then the Clapper, he heard me then; I asked him what was his business? he said, I must go presently to a young Gentlewoman that was in Labour; upon which summons I did rise and put on my Bodise, but did not half lace them; also my Petticoats, but did not tie them fast enough; for when I came into the middle of the broad Street, my Coats fell quiter down from my hips, but as good luck would have it, it was a dark Night, but the ill fortune was, that my Coats fell down, when I was striding over the broad Kennel, in which posture I stood a great time, until the man helped me over; but my Coats were all wet.  Get-all. 
But what is all this to the Confession of the Labouring Woman?  She answers angrily. Inform. 
It is of concern; for Circumstance is partly a declaring of truth.  Dick. 
You say true Mistress, wherefore go on.  Inform. 
But as I said— stay, I have forgot; where did I leave?  Capt. 
You left at the wet Coats, Mistress.  Inform. 
'Tis very true, I humbly thank you Sir; The Coats, as I said, being wet, I was loth to put them on, not only for fear of catching could, but for fear I should endanger the Womans miscarriage by my retardments; so I went with never a Coat on me, the Man carried them for me; but the night was pretty warm, so that I got no could, I thank Jupiter; but being more nimble, as being more light, I was soon at the house of the Labouring Woman, whom I found in painful throws, and she groaned most pitifully; and I comforted her, and prayed her to have patience, and at last she was brought to bed of a very lusty Boy.  Get-all. 
But what did the Gentlewoman confess?  Inform. 
What Gentlewoman?  Get-all. 
This Gentlewoman.  Inform. 
This Gentlewoman hath confessed that she was never got with Child, nor never had a Child, but what Mr. Get-all begot; and this I will take my Oath of.  Dick. 
How can you clear yourself Mr. Get-all?  Get-all. 
I will take my Oath that I never did see this Gentlewoman, about whom I am accused, in my life; and I have a Servant here that can witness for me.  Roger comes forward. Dick. 
What can you witness?  Roger. 
I can witness that I have lived with my Master these Twenty years, in all which time I did never see my Master converse with any thing like a Woman.  Dick. 
Doth your Master keep no Servant-Maid?  Roger. 
There is one we call the Cook-maid, but whether she be Maid or Woman, I'll take my Oath I know not.  Dick. 
Then your Master may converse with Women you know not of.  Roger. 
But I will swear my Master did never converse with this Gentlewoman that hath the Child.  Get-all. 
And I will take my Oath, as I said, that I never did so much as see her before now.  Capt. 
But may it please you, most Reverend Judge, this Gentlewoman hath seen him.  Get-all. 
But the bare sight of me could not get her with Child.  Capt. 
That is to be proved; wherefore we require so much justice of this Reverend Judge, that Mr. Feel-pulse, a most learned and expert Doctor of physic, may prove it by Argumentation.  Dick. 
Let Mr. Doctor prove it.  Will steps forward. Will. 
Then be it known to this most Reverend Judge, and to Mr. Get-all, and the rest of this Assembly, That our Famous Doctor is of opinion,( as also the heads of our Schools and colleges) That the production of Animal kind, is by an Incorporeal motion; and the famous Doctor is also of opinion, That the Soul of Man slides from the stomach to the heel, and in that journey makes a production: And all the Platonicks do affirm, That there may be a Conjunction of Souls, although the Bodies be at a far distance; and I am absolutely of that opinion; and that the Idea of a Man, by the help of a strong imagination, may beget a Child; which is sufficiently proved; for she seeing Mr. Get-all enter into the house of Mr. Inkhorn the Scrivener, viewed his person so exactly, that when she was in bed, a strong imagination seized on her, by which she conceived a Child.  Get-all. 
It seems the Child was begot like the Plague, by conceit.  Dick. 
You say true, Mr. Get-all; wherefore you must mary the Woman, own the Child, and keep them both.  Get-all. 
Is there no avoiding your Sentence, Mr. Judge?  Judge. 
No, the Decree is past.  Get-all. 
Why then as she was got with Child by Conceit, so I will mary her by Conceit.  Judge. 
But you must take her, and her Child home, and maintain them.  Get-all. 
Cannot I maintain them by Conceit?  Judge. 
No, that must be done Corporally.  Get-all. 
If there be no remedy, I must be content; come my Conceited or platonic Wife and Child, let us go home.  All. 
We wish you all Happiness. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter the Lady and a Fourth suitor. suitor. 
MAdam, I suppose my Name is unknown to you?  Lady. 
'Tis probable Sir; for I never saw you before.  svit. 
Then I'll tell you, Madam, my Name is, Monsieur Vanity.  Lady. 
Your Name shows that your Humour is Foolish, and your actions Prodigal.  svit. 
My Humour is noble, Madam, and my Actions generous; for I usually cast away a hundred pounds at Dice, and run away a hundred pounds at a Race, and give away a hundred pounds at a Visit to a Mistress.  Lady. 
This last kind of Prodigality has some resemblance to Generosity; but yet it is as different from Generosity, as a Bribe is from an Uninteressed Gift. But pray Sir, give me leave to ask you, what design brought you hither to me?  svit. 
A very good design, Madam; for I being vain, and you rich, 'twould be very convenient we two should join as Man and Wife, that one might maintain the other.  Lady. 
Alas Sir, the Wife would soon die in her Husbands arms; for Riches consume in Vanity; therefore, I will as soon mary death, as you. Exit Lady.  svit. 
Sol. Death take her, if I cannot get her.  Enter Three Gentlewomen to the Lady. Lady. 
I am glad you are come to release me from the importunity of my suitors.  1 Gent. 
You are in a good Condition, Madam, that you can have Lovers that seek you, when as we for want of Wealth, are forced to seek them.  2 Gent. 
You mean Husbands, Madam, for Lovers are never sought, because they are never lost; for a Lover will always be at the tail of his Mistress.  3 Gent. 
I wish I had as many as would make up a Train. Exit suitor.  Enter her Father Save-all. Fath. 
Daughter, have you made your choice of a Husband, since you have so many suitors?  Daugh. 
No truly Sir, for the number confounds my choice, or rather there is no choice in all the number, by reason none exceeds the other, but they are all Fools alike.  Fath. 
Indeed Daughter, if you be so long a choosing, you will be past choice yourself.  Daugh. 
I had rather be old with judgement, then young with Folly; and since you have been pleased to trust to my discretion, I would not willingly betray that trust, by the hast of my choice.  Fath. 
You speak well, Daughter; Heaven grant you do well.  Daugh. 
But pray Sir give me leave to ask you one question.  Fath. 
What's that?  Daugh. 
I would fain know, whether my Lovers do first address their Suits to you, or to me?  Fath. 
Their suits they address first to you; but their inquiries are made first to me; to wit, what Portion I would give you, and whether I intend to settle all my Estate upon you.  Daugh. 
It seems they consider my Wealth before my Person.  Fath. 
Yes, and all Wooers do the like.  Daugh. 
But not Lovers Sir.  Fath. 
Yes, yes, for they wooe first, mary next, and love last.  Exit Father.  

SCENE III.  Enter the Fifth suitor to the Lady, being an ancient Man. suitor. 
MAdam, I see you are a Beauty, and Report speaks you Virtuous and Wise; which if so, I hope you'l choose an ancient Lover before a young one.  Lady. 
No question Sir, but an ancient Lover expresses more Constancy in his Love, then a young one doth; but ancient Love requires a great deal of time, and my Father may die before I make my Choice.  svit. 
You mistake me, Madam, I mean an ancient Man that loves you.  Lady. 
There is great difference between an ancient Man, and an ancient Lover: But Sir, by your Discourse I perceive you pretend to be a Lover.  svit. 
My Love is not pretended; for I do really love you.  Lady. 
How can I know that?  svit. 
By proof; for I'll not require any Portion with you, since I am Rich enough without; Nay, I will not only take you without a Portion, but make you Mistress of all my Wealth, in so much that I will freely give you all I am Worth; and I wish I were worth Millions for your sake.  Lady. 
Sir, you express more Love in your Gifts, then all my young suitors in their Words; and if you will confirm your Promise to my Father, which you have now made to me, I shall accept of you for a Husband, and promise you, to be an honest and Loving Wife. He Kisses her Hand.  svit. 
Let us both go to your Father, and conclude the bargain.    

ACT IV.  

SCENE I.  Enter Lawyer and his She-Clerk. sergeant. 
IS Doctor Cure-all so industrious about the old Lady Riches?  Jack. 
Yes Sir, he was very busy in preparing of Cordials, Ointments, and such things; and was angry that I came with a Message from you; for he bid me be gone; for the Lady, he said, could not hear Love-Messages, she was so full of Sciatical pain and Gout; but the old Lady did favour me, and chid the Doctor for bidding me to be gone; for she would have heard my Message, when her sides were anointed, and her Gouty to plastered.  Serj. 
And did you stand by, till she was anointed?  Jack. 
Yes Sir, for she did desire me to help to anoint her sides, whilst the Doctor laid a plaster to her to.  Serj. 
And how did she like your service?  Jack. 
So well, Sir, as she said, she was never better chafed and rubbed in her life; I suppose it was for your sake.  Serj. 
But when I am married, I shall not allow her my Clerk to anoint her sides, although she be so old to go upon Crutches. Exit Jack Clerk.  Enter another Clerk. Clerk. 
Sir, there is a Client without, desires to speak with you; and there is a Gentleman without, that doth rail bitterly.  Serj. 
For what?  Clerk. 
Because his Law-Suit went against him; he says, That all the poor Cavaliers are not only undone by the Wars, but also by the Lawyers.  Serj. 
These poor Cavaliers are very troublesone.  Man. 
alas, their Losses make them impatient.  Serj. 
They are so poor, that Lawyers cannot gain by them; wherefore, we are for the other Party, who are so rich, that 'tis fit their Purses should be emptied.  Man. 
But if they get their suits, Sir, the poor Cavaliers pay the Charges.  Serj. 
Hold your prating, and bid Jack Clerk come to me.  Enter Jack Clerk. Serj. 
Have you writ those Deeds out?  Jack. 
Yes Sir.  Serj. 
And have you Copied out those Cases that I am to pled for, and against?  Jack. 
Yes Sir.  Serj. 
'Tis well done.  Jack. 
Sir, you are pleased to seem to favour me.  Serj. 
I do really love thee, and will do thee any favour I can.  Jack. 
Then I desire you would be pleased to pled a Cause that concerns a Kinswoman of mine.  Serj. 
That I will to the best of my power; but what is the Case?  Jack. 
Why Sir, I have a Kinswoman who is well born, but poor, and a Gentlewoman; but a Gentleman being in Love with her, and she not condescending to his unlawful desire, hath taken her away by force, and keeps her by force.  Serj. 
Have you, Witness?  Jack. 
Yes Sir, I have two Witnesses.  Serj. 
That is sufficient; let them be ready at the next Sessions.  Jack. 
But Sir, I desire not to appear as Plaintiff, for I have got another Gentleman to be Plaintiff; and my Friends are without, Sir, if you please to see them.  Serj. 
Well, call them.  Enter the Lieutenant and Cornet. Serj. 
Gentlemen, I shall serve you as well as I can.  Lieut. & Cor. 
We thank you Sir.  Exit sergeant. Enter Dick, Will, Harry and Captain. Jack. 
Gentlemen, you are welcome. 〈…〉  Will. 
We are come to know if we shall have a Hearing?  Jack. 
My Master hath promised to pled on our behalf.  Harry. 
We desire no more.  Jack. 
But I am to inform this Society, That there is a very rich old Lady,( a Widow) who these three Rich Men court; The Usurer did Wooe her, and the Lawyer and Physician do Wooe her; now if any one of you could cousin these Three of the Lady, it would be a Master-piece.  Harry. 
But should not any one of us cousin ourselves, or she cousin us to mary her? for she is so old, that there is no hopes of Posterity.  Dick. 
Why shall we desire Posterity, so long as we are poor? and if any one of us should ever come to be so happy as to be Rich, if he hath no Children, and chance to die, let him leave his Wealth amongst the Society of poor Cavaliers.  All speak. 
Content, content.  Lieut. 
But which of us shall address himself to this old Lady?  Harry. 
Dick Traveller is most likely to speed.  Dick. 
I have white Hairs; wherefore I am confident I shall be refused.  Capt. 
The truth is, the only Man that is probable to speed, is Harry sensible; for he hath a young smooth face, and old Women love young smooth faced Men alife.  Harry. 
Yes, but a young Man doth not love an old Woman; wherefore she is a fitter match for Dick then for me.  Will. 
Harry is in the right, Dick is the fittest Match for her; but the difficulty will be, how to make the Match, for we shall find it more difficult for all us Men to cousin one Woman, then for one Woman to cousin all us Men.  Lieut. 
It is impossible; wherefore let us never endeavour it.  Cornet. 
But we will never lose any design for want of endeavour.  Jack. 
I will tell you my Masters, how to compass this design.  Dick. 
How?  Jack. 
Harry shall put himself into a Woman's Habit, and Madam Informer who is acquainted with the Lady, shall prefer Harry to be her Chamber-Maid, where he may have time and opportunity to commend Dick, and to bring him acquainted with her.  Will. 
He may do some good in that, and perchance not.  Jack. 
It is but trying.  Harry. 
I like the design so well, as I am resolved to become a Chamber-Maid.  Will. 
But we shall want thy Company in the mean time.  Harry. 
No, no, I am confident I shall get leave sometimes to go abroad, or find some ways or other to slip out.  Lieut. 
But you cannot change your Habit suddenly.  Harry. 
I shall not have occasion, for you all know me.  Dick. 
Come, come, let us about this business.  Jack. 
But first you must go with me to hear the Cause tried.  All speak. 
Content, content. Exeunt.  Enter Roger, Solus. Roger. 
If my young Mistress should have a perfect Idea of me, and then a strong Imagination, she might prove with Child again, and so my Master would be a platonic cuckolded.  Enter Get-all. Get-all. 
Roger, where is my platonic Wife and Child?  Roger. 
In the Chamber with the Milch-Nurse.  Get-all. 
My Family is well increased since I have been a platonic Husband and Father.  Roger. 
I hope your Worship will not want Heirs to inherit your Wealth?  Get-all. 
No, no, I cannot want Heirs, the way being so easy to get them.  Roger. 
But hath not your Worship a mind to get her with Child, after a Corporeal manner?  Get-all. 
Faith Roger, she is tempting, being young and handsome; but if I should get her with Child as our fore-fathers got us, I fear this Learned age will punish me, either with death or intolerable Fines.  Roger. 
But if there be no Witness, they cannot prove it; for this platonic Son and Heir of your Worships, appears as if it had been got by a Corporeal action.  Get-all. 
You say true; wherefore call your Mistress.  The while he Walks, Enter Mistress Peg. Get-all. 
My Imaginary Wife, how doth our Imaginary Son?  Peg. 
Very well, Sir.  Get-all. 
But doth he Corporeally suck?  Peg. 
Yes Sir.  Get-all. 
I wonder at that; but my greatest wonder is, how that an Incorporeal Conception, should come to be a Corporeal Child!  Peg. 
'Tis like Spirits that take Bodies, Sir.  Get-all. 
But may I not lawfully get you with Child after a Corporeal manner?  Peg. 
Yes surely, Sir.  Get-all. 
Then let us go to bed, and try if I can get a Child after the old Corporeal way, for I never knew when this Child was gotten.  Peg. 
But I must be Ceremoniously Married first.  Get-all. 
Hang Ceremony, those Children never come to good that are got with Ceremony.  Peg. 
But I cannot lye with you Corporeally, unless you honestly mary me.  Get-all. 
But I tell you, I did not know when I got this Child which I am forced to own.  Peg. 
'Tis true, Sir; but that was begot by your Idea, and my Imagination, and not personally; wherefore, if you desire to lye with me, you must first mary me, otherwise the Law will severely punish us, and they would be glad we should give them that occasion, that they might take away your Wealth.  Get-all. 
Faith, thou shall rather breed by Conceit, then I mary really; but if we must not lye together Corporeally, may not we kiss Corporeally?  Peg. 
Truly Sir, I did never kiss any Man but in the way of a civil Salute.  Get-all. 
But did not my Idea and your Imagination kiss?  Peg. 
Yes Sir, but not Corporeally.  Get-all. 
Faith, I have a Natural desire to thee; but I dare not mary thee, for fear I should be made a cuckolded, as I have been made a Father.  Peg. 
Truly I am very Chast, and shall make a very honest Wife; and if you will promise to mary me, I will discover by whom you have been deceived.  Get-all. 
If you can prove yourself honest, I will.  Peg. 
Then know Sir, This Child which is laid to your Charge, is none of mine, but a Bastard of my Brother's, Captain Valour; but by reason my Brother was ruined in the Civil Wars, and I having lost my Portion in his ruin, I had not Means to maintain me honestly, according to my quality; wherefore, hearing you were a very worthy person, and Rich, and an unmarried Man, I desired my Brother's assistance in the design of getting you to be my Husband; but the design could not take effect if we had not counterfeited a Spiritual Court and Judge, which Judge was Mr. Traveller; and the Doctor Mr. Will Fullwit; and the Lawyer was Mr. sensible; and my Brothers, Lieutenant and mayor, Witnesses, all gallant valiant Men, but poor Cavaliers; so that the design was honest, but the management was full of deceit.  Get-all. 
But what was she that was the Midwife.  Peg. 
An honest ancient Gentlewoman, whose Husband was killed in the Wars.  Get-all. 
Well, since you have so ingenuously  told me the truth, I will mary thee for thy honest wit; for he's a fool that will mary a fool.  Enter Judges as in a Court of Judicature, and sergeant Barister as a Pleader at the Bar, and his Clerk with a bag of Papers; also Harry sensible as the Defendant, and Will Fullwit and Dick Traveller as Witnesses, the Captain as a Plaintiff, and the Lieutenant and Anciant as Witnesses. Serj. 
May it please your Lordships, I am here to pled in my Clients behalf against Mr. sensible, who against the Laws of Honour, Honesty, and Civil Government, hath a young Gentlewoman of good Birth and Education( but poor) in his keeping, not by the Gentlewoman's( or Friends) Consent, but by constraint and force, enclosing her in a Chamber, under Locks and Bolts, lest she should escape from him.  judge. 
Where is your Witnesses?  Lieut. 
Here my Lords.  judge. 
Will you both Swear these Accusations for a truth?  Lieut. 
We are ready to Swear whensoever the Book is offered.  judge. 
What says the Defendant?  Harry. 
My Lords, I will confess the truth, but I desire Justice, and that my Accusation against sergeant Plead-all, may be heard.  Serj. 
Good my Lords, grant his Request; for I fear not what can be said against me.  judge. 
We grant his Request.  Harry. 
Then my Lords, I freely confess that I have such a Gentlewoman in my keeping, as I am accused, and do keep her under Lock and Key; not for fear she should leave me, but for fear some man should steal her away from me; for in this age Men are like hungry Wolves, seeking to devour the Virginity and Reputation of young handsome Women: But this young Gentlewoman who I do so carefully keep, is my own Natural Sister, which these two worthy Gentlemen, Mr. Fullwit and Mr. Traveller, will witness; besides, I can bring all my Neighbours that will witness the same; and since sergeant Plead-all hath endeavoured to disgrace me, not only before your Lordships, but before a Court full of People; I think it not unmeet, for me to declare to your Lordships, That sergeant Plead-all hath at this present kept in his House a Gentlewoman, as a Servant, in Man's Clothes, whose Birth and Breeding is better then his own.  Serj. 
My Lords, I deny his Impeachment; and if he can prove that I have a Woman in Man's Clothes, that is a household Servant of mine, I will mary her, were she an old Witch.  Harry. 
My Lords, this Assembly is sufficient witness of what he hath said, as also what I have said; and to prove what I say is true, here is the Gentlewoman who serves him as his Clerk, in Man's Clothes, she is Sister to Mr. Fullwit, which he and others will witness, and she her self confesses.  Jane. 
My Lords, I do confess I am a Woman, and out of love to sergeant Plead-all did take this disguise, which I hope is pardonable, since it is not a breach of the Laws of the Kingdom, whatsoever it may be in modesty.  Serj. 
How is this! my Clerk a Woman! and must be my Wife! I am finely cozened i'faith!  Harry. 
We beseech your Lordships to give your judgement.  Judges. 
Our judgement is, That you are free, and the sergeant must mary his She-Clerk.  Exeunt.  

SCENE II.  Enter Father, with his Daughter. Daughter. 
PRay Sir, tell me whether you approve of my Choice?  Fath. 
To speak truly, Daughter, you have chosen very wisely; but how your Youth will agree with Age, I cannot tell.  Daugh. 
Never fear it Sir, for I shall love Age in a Husband, better then Youth in myself.  Fath. 
Well, Heaven bless you.  Enter a Messenger from the young suitors. Mess. 
Sir, Report says, that the Lady your Daughter, is to be Married to an ancient Man, to the great disgrace of her other suitors, Youth, Beauty, and Bravery; and therefore they desire, that before she Marries, she would be pleased to give them all a public Audience.  Fath. 
Daughter, answer this Gentleman.  Daugh. 
Sir, pray tell them, that I cannot civilly deny their Request, in case they'l be pleased to give me leave to make a public answer.  Mess. 
No question, Madam, but they will, and I shall inform them of what you say. Exeunt.    

ACT V.  

SCENE I.  Enter Mrs. Jane Fullwit in her Woman's Habit, and sergeant Plead-all. sergeant. 
WEll Mistress, your Wit and your Person hath not only excused your deceit, but I am so in Love with you, that I would not but have been deceived for all the World.  Jane. 
Sir, with your pardon, there is one more deceived besides yourself, and another like to be.  Serj. 
Who be those?  Jane. 
He that is deceived, is Get-all the Usurer, and he that shall be deceived is Doctor Cure-all.  Serj. 
What, my two Rivals?  Jane. 
Yes Sir.  Serj. 
Then they cannot laugh at me.  Jane. 
If they do, you may laugh at them again.  Serj. 
I would the old Lady was deceived.  Jane. 
She will in a short time.  Serj. 
Faith, I find that the Cavaliers are the best deceivers.  Jane. 
They have been so oft deceived themselves, that they have learned by their misfortunes.  Serj. 
But we will not deceive each other, but go to your Brother to dispatch our Marriage.  Exeunt. Enter Captain, Lieutenant, Cornet, and Will Fullwit, then enters Harry in a cornfields Habit. Will. 
Mrs. Harry you are welcome, how doth your good Lady? She makes a curtsy ill-favouredly.  Harry. 
My Lady at this time is troubled with Love in the Heart, and Gout in the to.  Capt. 
Is Dick Traveller the cause of the Love-sick heart?  Harry. 
No, it is the Lawyer's young Clerk.  Will. 
He is discovered.  Harry. 
Yes, but I will not suffer any to inform her of it.  Cornet. 
But if her mind be so young, I doubt we may despair of our design.  Enter Dick Traveller. Dick. 
Mrs. Harry, give me leave to salute you.  He makes a curtsy, and he salutes him. Dick. 
Faith Harry, you kiss like a Woman; I pray Jove you be not turned Female with wearing a Petticoat.  Harry. 
If I be, I pray Jove I may not be such a Female as my old Lady is.  Dick. 
But how goeth on our design?  Harry. 
Fast towards a young man, but slowly towards a gray head.  Dick. 
What young Man?  Harry. 
The Lawyer's Clerk.  Dick. 
What is she in Love with honest Jack? but she is discovered.  Harry. 
But she knows not of it, for she is almost desperate; and between every groan of pain, she sighs for Love.  Dick. 
Why, then there is no hopes for me.  Harry. 
Not unless you are presented in the Name of the Clerk, and married by Candle-light; for she being half blind, will never distinguish which is which.  Captain. 
Faith, Harry's Counsel is good.  Will. 
But if she be as deaf as she is blind, we shall not need to dissemble his Name.  Dick. 
But Harry, do you think she will live long?  Harry. 
My only fear is, she will hardly live so long that he may be Married to her.  Dick. 
I hope she is not so desperately sick.  Lieut. 
If she should die before Dick is married, we are all undone.  Cornet. 
If she should, it would be worse then our Cashiering.  Will. 
Take comfort Gentlemen, for old Women are such dry and tough meat, that Death cannot set his Teeth into them, nor his Dart enter them.  Capt. 
Will says true; for perchance she may last longer then Dick would have her.  Dick. 
I would have her live till I am married to her, and then let her die as soon as she will.  Harry. 
Well Gentlemen, I dare stay no longer for fear my Lady should chide me most grievously.  Will. 
Thou art a most grievous Rogue.  Exit Harry. Enter sergeant and Jane. Will. 
Hey-day, who comes here!  Serj. 
We are come to have you for a Witness to our Marriage, since you proved so good a one at the Bar.  Will. 
Stay so long, till we see an end of our Comedy.  Serj. 
If your Comedy be long, I shall not have patience.  Capt. 
It shall be short, and you shall have more Bridals to accompany you.  Enter Harry. Harry. 
I have been at home with my Mistress; but all the plot of Jack Clerk was revealed to her, whilst I was here; O Mr. Plead-all, I cry you mercy, I saw you not.  Serj. 
Nay, Mrs. Harry pray conceal not any thing for my being here; for I thank you, I am now become one of the Society.  Harry. 
And how do you like of the Acquaintance.  Serj. 
So well, as I would not be a stranger for any other good.  Harry. 
I presume Mrs. Jane hath pleased you well.  Serj. 
So well, as I am confident I shall be happy in my Marriage: But how doth the old Lady take the discovery of my She-Clerk?  Harry. 
Faith, as ill as she would take the discovery of her He-Chamber-Maid; the truth is, she hath been in such passions, as she is almost transformed to Mummy.  Serj. 
That she was before the discovery.  Harry. 
But now she is more perfect Mummy then she was; but I, to comfort her, have promised to bring her a handsome young Man, only he is taller and bigger, as being a Man; and I did reason with her so long, that I have persuaded her to love a Man, rather then a Boy.  Capt. 
And will she come to reason?  Harry. 
She will, upon condition he be a young Man.  Dick. 
But how shall I make myself appear to be a young Man?  Cornet. 
You are not so old, but you may appear in the dark to be a young Man.  Capt. 
Appear, say you! how the Devil can he appear in the dark?  Harry. 
Well, for the good of the commonweal, I have devised a way, how Dick shall appear like a young Man to a blind eye.  Will. 
Faith, I know no difference between the dark and a blind eye.  Harry. 
Hang you, a Pox of you all, I meant a dim eye.  Dick. 
Come, dim or blind, let's hear your design.  Harry. 
This is the design, Dick shall first shave as close as may be, and then paint his Face, and with a handsome periwig, and fine Clothes, he will appear a Young Man to an Old Woman.  Will. 
Faith, the Paint must be laid on his Face as thick as mortar on a Wall, otherwise his age will be seen.  Capt. 
Not to a dim eye.  Dick. 
Why, I have not such wrinkles in my face as requires much filling up.  Harry. 
I will warrant you, that I will get such an Artist, that if Dick's Wrincles were as deep as a Sawpit, they should be closed up, and his face appear fair and even, if not smooth; wherefore Dick, get a handsome periwig, and put on your best svit of Clothes, and I will sand a Painter to your Chamber; then go to her, for she expects thee, and carry a Priest, and some Witnesses, and mary her.  Will. 
Will not you be there?  Harry. 
I cannot, but I have left those in her house that shall conduct you to her; but I must go about my Sisters affairs, where I must desire all the Company to meet me at Doctor Cure-all's House.  All speak. 
We will not fail you.  Dick. 
But the Cornet and Lieutenant must go with me to be my Witnesses.  Harry. 
Take them.  Exeunt.  

SCENE II.  Enter Doctor and his Man. Doctor. 
GIve me my Cloak, for now the Clerk being proved a Woman, I hope the old Lady will accept of me, and that will be a double good fortune; first, that my Rival is cheated; next, that I shall be Master of the Ladies Riches.  Man. 
Doth your Worship mean the old Lady?  Doct. 
Who should I mean else?  Man. 
Sir, she was Married last Night, about one of the Clock, as her Servant  told me this Morning.  Doct. 
Married! to whom?  Man. 
To a young Cavalier, one Mr. Dick Traveller.  Doct. 
What the Devil, hath he Married her?  Man. 
I know not whether the Devil Married them, but certainly they are Married.  Doct. 
Why, he is older then I.  Man. 
He hath past for a young Man with the Lady.  Enter another Man. 2 Man. 
Sir, there's a young Gentlewoman desires to speak with your Worship.  Doct. 
'Tis some comfort to converse with a young Woman, after the loss of an old—  The Doctor goes forth, and enters leading Mrs. An. sensible. Doct. 
Lady, wherein may I serve you?  An. 
Sir, I am to desire your assistance for the Cure of a Disease I am troubled with.  Doct. 
What Disease?  An. 
The Disease is Love.  Doct. 
Truly, Lady, a Physician hath no Remedy for that Disease, unless the Party be in Love with the Physician.  An. 
The truth is, Sir, I am in Love with you.  Doct. 
With me Lady!  Enter sensible, and when he enters, he sees his Sister, he starts back and frowns, she seems to be afraid. Harry. 
Is the Doctor and you so well acquainted, as you two to be private alone.  An. 
Truly I was never here before.  Harry. 
'Tis false.  Doct. 
I will assure you, Mr. sensible, she speaks truth, for she was never here to my knowledge before.  Harry. 
I perceive you both agree in a Story, and I take it as an affront you should entertain my Sister in private.  Doct. 
I vow to Heaven I never saw her before this time, nor knew I that you were her Brother.  Harry. 
This answer will not serve me, for I will have satisfaction; and as for you, Sister, I will offer you up as a Sacrifice to Honour.  He draws his Sword, she shrieks out, and runs behind the Doctor, the Doctor strives to defend her. Doct. 
Sir, 'Tis unworthy to draw your Sword upon a Woman, or to fight with an unarmed Man.  Harry. 
I do not intend to fight with you at this time, but to kill my Sister.  Doct. 
For what?  Harry. 
For visiting a Man, and being alone with him in his Chamber.  Doct. 
Why is that such a Crime?  Harry. 
'Tis such a Crime, that unless she can prove she is Married, or assured, I will kill her.  An. 
Good Doctor save my life.  Doct. 
Then Sir, give me leave to tell you, we are agreed to mary, may we have your consent?  Harry. 
I must have time to ask the advice of some dear Friends first.  An. 
Dear Brother consent, without advice.  Harry. 
That I will not.  An. 
Then sand for your Friends hither.  Harry. 
I have no body here to sand.  Doct. 
You may have two or three of my Servants if you please. Enter a Man.  Man. 
There is two Gentlemen below that desire to speak with Mr. sensible.  Harry. 
They are come as I desired, pray bring them in. Enter Will Fullwit, and the Captain. Dear Will, and Captain, I was sending for you both, to ask your advice about a Cause that hath much troubled me, which is a great concernment both to my Justice and Honour.  Will. 
What is that?  Harry. 
I coming to see Doctor Cure-all, found my Sister out of my House, discoursing here alone with the Doctor, which is a great discredit for a young Virgin, to be not only abroad without attendance, but in Company with a Man alone, and in his Chamber.  Capt. 
That is not well, I did not believe Mrs. Anne sensible would have done such an act.  Doct. 
Gentlemen, the Lady is in no fault, for she and I are agreed to mary, if her Brother consents.  Will. 
That is another Case; and will not you give your consent Harry?  Harry. 
I cannot tell.  Capt. 
Come, come, you shall consent.  Will. 
Yes, yes, you shall Harry; Doctor give me your hand, and Mrs. sensible give me yours, so join them together; do you agree truly and really to mary?  Both Answer. 
We do.  Capt. 
Then, Mr. sensible, give them joy of their Contract.  Harry. 
I wish you Both joy.  Enter to the Doctor, Mrs. Peg Valorosa, Get-all, sergeant Plead-all, and Mrs. Jane Fullwit. Get-all. 
Come, come, Captain Valorous, let us go to the Church, for I am impatient.  Serj. 
Not so impatient as I.  Capt. 
Faith, we come in here but to take another Couple along with us.  Get-all. 
Are they agreed?  Harry. 
They are, they are; there only wants that Ceremony, You do, and all is sure.  Enter Dick Traveller, Lieutenant and Cornet. Dick. 
I am come only to make one to fill up the Matrimonial Triumphs.  Harry. 
How doth my old Lady like the young Blade?  Dick. 
So well, as she is so well pleased, as it hath made her half young again.  Enter Mistress Informer. Dick. 
Welcome Mrs. Informer.  Inf. 
By my troth, my heart did tremble, for fear I should not come time enough to these fortunate Nuptials.  Get-all. 
Well, to let all this Company see, that I the first deceived, am as well, if not better, pleased then I the deceivers; here I do promise to give my Brother, that must be Captain Valorous, Twenty thousand pounds to maintain his Bastards, to discharge his Whores, and to mary a Virtuous and Honourable Wife; also, I give Doctor Feel-pulse, Will Fullwit, Five thousand pounds; and Harry sensible Five thousand more; and Five thousand pound to the Lieutenant; and Five thousand pounds between the Cornet and Mrs. Informer; as for my judge Dick Traveller, I did intend to have feed him well, and to give him money to have bought a place in the Arches, but he is better provided.  Serj. 
I cannot present the whole Society, but I will make my Brother Fullwit's Five thousand pounds, you gave him, Ten.  Doct. 
So will I give as much to my Brother Harry sensible.  Dick. 
And I will present the rest of the Society.  Will. 
Let's go unto Church to make all sure,  
For nothing in extremes will long endure.  Capt. 
Stay we must go to the Hearing of my Cousin Prudence's Cause first, and then we shall have another couple.   

SCENE III.  The Scene is a public Hall, or Pleading-Court, wherein is a public Assembly, the Young suitors and some other Gallants, taking one Bar, and the Young Lady and her Old suitor another; and all Bridal Couples. One of the Young suitors speaks. 
Most Noble Auditors.  
I Am chosen by my fellow-Sufferers to declare the Injustice and Injury this young Lady has done us, and her self, by refusing us that are young, handsome, healthy and strong, for an old, infirm, weak and decayed Man, who has neither a clear Eye-sight to admire her Beauty, nor a perfect Hearing to be informed of her Wit; nor sufficient Strength to fight in her behalf, or defend her Honour; nor that heat of affection that he can love her as she deserves. Indeed, it is not to be suffered that Old Men and Women should mary Young Persons; for it is as much as to tie or bind the Living and Dead together; for, though it cannot be truly said, that old age is dead, yet we may say, 'tis rotten, and Corruption is next to death; for all Creatures corrupt before they dissolve; and we are taught by our holy Fathers, that we must put off the Old Man, and put on the New Man: Wherefore, 'tis not lawful for this young Lady to mary that old Man, it being both against Church and State, as not profitable to either, but disadvantageous to both.  The Ladies Answer. 
Most Noble Auditors,  
I Come not here to express either my Wit or Malice, but to defend my honest Cause, and to express my true Love; Wherefore, I shall briefly answer this Gentleman's Objections: First, as for the Injustice he accuses me of, I utterly deny that I am guilty, for to make a lawful Choice is no Injustice to them; and to refuse a young Man before an old and wise one, is no Injury to myself; Next, what he says of their handsomeness, Health and Strength; I answer, that in my opinion, a handsome Man is an error in Nature, and Health and Strength are very uncertain in young Men, for their Vices decay one, and impair the other, before their Natural time; whereas, the Infirmities of Old Age are Natural, neither infectious, unwholesome or dangerous to their Wives: And though ancient Men have not their Hearing so quick, nor their Eye-sight so clear as young Men, yet have they quicker Wits, and clearer Understandings, acquired by long Experience of all sorts of Actions, Humors, Customs, Discourses, Accidents, and Fortuns amongst Mankind; Wherefore, old Men cannot choose but be more Knowing, Rational and Wife then Young. Concerning the Church and State, since they do allow of buying and selling young Maids to Men to be their Wives, they cannot condemn those Maids that make their bargain to their own advantage, and choose rather to be bought then sold, and I confess I am one of the number of those; for I'll rather choose an old Man that buys me with his Wealth, then a young one, whom I must purchase with my Wealth; who, after he has wasted my Estate, may sell me to Misery and Poverty. Wherefore, our Sex may well pray, From Young Mens ignorance and follies, from their pride, vanity and prodigality, their game, quarreling, drinking and whoring, their pocky and diseased bodies, their Mortgages, Debts and Serjeants, their Whores and Bastards, and from all such sorts of Vices and Miseries that are frequent amongst Young Men, Good Lord deliver Us. But for fear of such a Misfortune as to be a Wise to a young Man, I will mary this ancient Man, and so, Cousins, I am, if you please, ready to wait on you to Church.    
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  
THE Sociable Companions we hope do fit  
Your Judgments, Fancies, and your better Wit:  
This Lady is Ambitious, I dare say,  
That all Her hopes is, That you'l like her Play.  
Which favour, She esteems at a high rate,  
'Bove Title, Riches, or what's Fortune's Fate;  
She listens, with a trembling ear; She stands  
Hoping to hear Her Joy, by your glad Hands.   

The Presence. A COMEDY.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I. As an Introduction to the Play.  Enter two Gentlemen. First Gentleman. 
TOM, How do you like the New Plays?  2 Gent. 
As I like an Old Wife, Not well.  1 Gent. 
If the judgement of the Stage should hear you, they would condemn you.  2 Gent. 
Faith, that Condemnation would be a Commendation to me, and a reproach to themselves; for those that cannot judge of Wit, cannot judge of Me.  1 Gent. 
Cannot they judge of Wit, say you?  2 Gent. 
No, for those that understand not Wit, cannot judge of Wit.  1 Gent. 
Do they not understand Wit?  2 Gent. 
No, for if they did, they would not applaud Plays, that have neither Humour, Wit, nor satire; which are those they name New Plays, made up of Old Romances.  1 Gent. 
But New Plays have Plots, Designs, Catastrophes and Intrigues.  2 Gent. 
What are those?  1 Gent. 
Those are to express Policy, Ingenuity and Art; besides, they describe Love, Justice, Honour, and the like.  2 Gent. 
Why, Seneca doth express Moral Virtues, and Machiavillian Policy, better and more properly then dramatic Poetry; and the Spectators will learn more in one day by reading their Works. or such like Authors, then by seeing forty Plays, and less Charge: Besides, it doth lessen the esteem of such grave Learning, neither is it more proper for Plays then the Scripture is.  1 Gent. 
But the Scripture was Acted in the old time.  2 Gent. 
Truly, and I have heard they were foolish Plays, although made out of the Sacred Scripture; and that there was a Superscription of one Play set upon a Post, which was thus, Here is a Play to be seen of King Saul, with the merry Conceits of David and goliath; which certainly was profane. But a Stage is not an University, Grammar-School, or Church; for by such actions or descriptions, it would rather abuse Religion, and corrupt Learning, then advance them; for though the Stage may be very beneficial to young persons to learn good Behaviour, Discourse and Wit, yet not to learn Morality and Divinity; and as for Policy, all Men are naturally apt to be Dissemblers, they shall not need to be instructed; also, concerning the description of foolish Romancical Love, it doth but corrupt the minds and thoughts of Men and Women, which causes not only foolish and unhappy Marriages, but wicked Adulteries.  1 Gent. 
But pray tell me what you mean by that you name satire? whether you do not mean railing?  2 Gent. 
No, for railing is to speak ill of particular persons; but satire is to reprove general Vices.  1 Gent. 
And what do you mean by Wit and Humour?  2 Gent. 
By Wit I mean similizing, and distinguishing of Words and Things; by Humour I mean the Behaviours, Dispositions and Practices of Mankind; all which good Comedies will inform Youth better, then far and dangerous Travels; but as for Morality and Policy, as I said before, they are more proper for Schools and States, then for Stages.  1 Gent. 
But Lovers Scenes are most pleasing to the Spectators, and are the best part in a Play.  2 Gent. 
In my opinion the Lover's part is the worst part; but as for such Love-making as is in the New Plays, it would give me as good a vomit to see it, as Crocus Mettallorum steeped in wine, or the like, and swallowed down my throat.   

SCENE II.  Enter as in the Presence, Mons. Conversant, Mons. Observer, and Mons. Mode. Conversant. 
GOod Morrow Gentlemen; Mons. Mode, did not you attend the Emperor to the chapel to day?  Mode. 
No, but I am going to attend him from the chapel.  Conv. 
It had been better you had attended him into the chapel for your own sake, for there you might have said your Prayers, which, it is probable, you Courtiers seldom do.  Mode. 
Faith, we Courtiers have little time to pray; for what with Dressing, Trimming, Waiting, Ushering, Watching, Courting, and the like, all our time is spent.  Obs. 
It seems Courtiers are so much concerned with their bodies, as they regard not their Souls.  Mode. 
Pleasure lives with the Body, and we Courtiers live with Pleasure; as for the Soul it is not well known what it is; but let it be what it will, or can be, or is, yet it belongs more to another World, then to this; which other World we Courtiers care not for, nor think thereof; we only desire to be happy in this World, for we are well content to quit the Happiness of the next World for the pleasure of this present World.  Conv. 
But yet when Courtiers come to die, they will wish they had thought more of the next World, and less of this.  Mode. 
Faith, we Courtiers never think of Death, until Death think of us; and when Death remembers us so, as to take us out of this World, we believe we shall only die and turn to dust, and be no more; we are only troubled and grieved that our Masking delights are at an end, and that our light of life, and delights of Pleasures must be put out by Death's Exstinguisher; the truth is, with Court-Gallants, Court-Officers, and State-Magistrates, it is according to the old observation, which is, They live without Conscience, and die without fear.  Obs. 
I did believe that Courtiers had been so vain, that they could not be so valiant, as to die without fear.  Mode. 
There are many sorts of Valours, or rather I may say, Courages; for though most Courtiers have not Valour to fight Duels, or in Battels; yet they have courage to run in debt, not fearing Imprisonment, and they have courage to Court Mistresses, not fearing the Pox; also, they have courage to flatter, cousin, dissemble, profess, protest, and then betray, not fearing dishonour.  Conv. 
Will not Courtiers fight, say you?  Mode. 
No faith, if they can choose to avoid it; for we Courtiers are Men for life, and not for death; for though we are Men of Action, yet not Warlike Actions.  Conv. 
In what are Courtiers active?  Mode. 
In Dancing, Racing, Tennis-playing, Carding, Dicing, and the like; for should a Soldier become a Courtier, he would become a Coward in a short time; for the Pleasures of the Court do abate the Courage of War.  Conv. 
I believe you, because you are a Courtier, and know a Courtier best; but I fear you will not appear a diligent Attendant, if you go not to the chapel to wait upon the Emperour.  Mode. 
You say true, wherefore farewell.  Conv. 
But before you go, pray inform us of the cause that makes the Princess so Melancholy?  Mode. 
That which makes most Women Melancholy, to wit, Amorous Love.  Obs. 
'Tis said, that it is a pleasing pain; but is the Princess in Love?  Mode. 
Yes.  Conv. 
With whom?  Mode. 
With no body.  Conv. 
Can she be in Love with no body?  Mode. 
Yes faith, rather then Women, will not be in love, they will love no body.  Conv. 
That is impossible.  Mode. 
It is not impossible, if an Idea be no body; and 'tis said, Thoughts are Ideas.  Obs. 
I suppose that no Women are in love with their own Thoughts, for if they were, they would think more, and speak less; wherefore, you are mistaken; for Women are in love with their own Words.  Mode. 
If they be, their love is placed still upon no body; for the old opinion is, That Words are bodiless: But the Princess is in love with an Idea she met with in a Dream in the Region of her Brain; and unless she may enjoy this Idea, not only awake, but embodied, she cannot be at rest in her mind!  Conv. 
If this be true, it is a strange Love!  Mode. 
It is as true as strange, and as strange as true; and all the Ladies in the Court are become Dreaming-Lovers to imitate the Princess.  Obs. 
All the Ladies, say you?  Mode. 
Yes faith, All, both Maids, Widows and Wives.  Conv. 
As for Wives, it is fit they should never have other Lovers, both for their Husbands and their own sake; for then their Love and Lovers cannot possibly be known, if they can but keep their own Counsels.  Mode. 
But they cannot keep their own Counsels, for if they could, they would never have divulged their Amorous Dreams. Exit Mode.  Enter Spend-all to Conversant and Observer. Conv. 
Monsieur Spend-all, I wish you joy of your Preferment, for I hear you have a place bestowed upon you, agreeable and proper for your Pastime and Profession; for you being a great Gamester, are made Croom-Porter.  Spend. 
No faith, but I am not; for Keep-all, the old miserable usurer, is made Groom-Porter.  Conv. 
Why, that is very well; for he may put out his Money to use amongst the Gamesters, and have Am's ace for his Interest; but if he be made Groom-Porter, you shall be Lord Treasurer.  Spend. 
No faith, I would have but one Office, if I might have my choice.  Obs. 
What Office is that?  Spend. 
Master of the Mint.  Obs. 
That will not do you much good, unless you were Master of the coin; but if you were Master of the coin, you would play all away at Cards and Dice, Tennis, and such like Games.  Spend. 
If I did, I should do but as most Gentlemen do, that have Estates, which spend their Money for their pleasure, and I take Pleasure in game.  Conv. 
But not to lose.  Spend. 
I had rather lose, then not play.  Obs. 
I did believe that Gamesters played more out of covetousness, then for pleasure.  Spend. 
You mistake; for Gamesters are more in love with Cards, Dice, and Rackets, then Lovers are with Women.  Conv. 
And I believe Gamesters fear Fortune more then Lovers do the Spiritual Court, the Parish-Constable, or the City-Watch.  Spend. 
Faith, Fortune is like most Magistrates, or great Officers, who will cruelly punish some, and partially favour others; and all her actions are without Reason and Justice.  Obs. 
But you cannot bribe Fortune.  Spend. 
No, and in that respect Lovers have the better of Gamesters.  Conv. 
But Gamesters are for the most part Lovers.  Spend. 
Faith, no; for a Gamester cannot spare so much time, as to kiss a Mistress; but fare you well, for I must go to the Porters Lodge.  Conv. 
But tell me truly, before you go, whether Keep-all the Usurer is made Groom-Porter?  Spend. 
The truth is, I did but jest; for he is not Groom-Porter, but the Knave of Clubs is made Groom-Porter.  Conv. 
If it be so, then that place is properly served, for the Knave of Clubs is a fit person for that Office.  Exeunt Men.  

SCENE III.  Enter the Princess and her Governess. Princess. 
WHich of the Gods and Goddesses shall I pray to assist me, since my beloved is Spiritual, and not Mortal, at least not Temporal; but yet he is not celestial; for surely an Idea is not a god, although it be not a bodily Creature?  Govern. 
But Souls may meet and converse, and enjoy each other.  Prin. 
How meet?  Govern. 
In the Mind.  Prin. 
But that's no satisfaction to human kind.  Govern. 
I know not whether Satisfaction doth, but surely tranquillity lives in the Mind; and the god of Dreams hath presented the Idea, which surely is the Soul of some Noble and Meritorious Lover, as a reward to your virtue.  Prin. 
How foolishly you talk! as if the gods were Lover's Mediators: But if they should humble themselves in such Amorous employments, and did present this Idea, then I should enjoy it every time I sleep; but alas, I never did perceive it but once, and then like as a Heavenly Vision, no sooner perceived, but vanished away.  Govern. 
But can you love so much upon so small an acquaintance?  Prin. 
I am of Marlow's opinion, Who ever loved, that loves not at first sight!  
But this Idea is fixed in my heart,  
And whilst I live will never thence depart:  
But I will make Apelles my dear Saint,  
And he shall both my Love and Passion paint.  
Apelles, draw this Passion in my Heart,  
And make the Picture of my Love by Art:  
For thou the first was he that did invent  
To Figure Passions, and them to present  
To object's sense; and if so, then I  
May my Idea by my eyes descry;  
For all Ideas they, as 〈◇〉 prove,  
They are not Substance, but in Substance move.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Mode to Observer and Spend-all. Observer. 
ARe the Ladies coming into the Presence?  Mode, 
No, they all keep their beds to enjoy their Lovers so, as they sleep to dream, and dream to be embraced.  Obs. 
They shall not need to do that, for they may be embraced awake.  Mode. 
O fie! that is an old out-worn fashion, and is more proper for old Ladies, then young.  Obs. 
Sure you mistake; for Dreams are more proper for old Ladies, and waking-embraces for young.  Mode. 
Nay, then you mistake, for young Ladies love Amorous Contemplations, otherwise they would not delight so much in Romances as they do; but old Ladies who have more experience, and so are wiser, love the fruition of Realities; which makes them love young Men, not in Dreams or Romances, but in Courts and Cities.  Spend. 
If so, then young Men may despair of young Women, and old Women not be jealous of young Women; and if I were sure of that, I would presently clap up a Match with an old doting Lady that I am acquainted withal, who is as rich as old.  Mode. 
You had best make hast for fear you should have Rivals; for if all young Men despair, the old Women will be so Wooed, that the multiplicity and choice will make them as nice, coy and proud, as the most prime young Beauties.  Spend. 
You say true, wherefore I will be beforehand, and go to her before she hears of this dreaming-fashion.  Conv. 
But how if this fashion should soon change to a quiter opposite?  Spend. 
Yes, there is the danger; therefore I will not go.  Enter the young Princess Melancholy, and some Ladies, whereof one rubs her eyes, the other gapes, the third stretches her self; all passing over the Stage. Obs. 
Lord bless us! what a drowsy fashion the Ladies have got?  Conv. 
But to my view, they were hot so drowsy but they did leer upon us.  Mode. 
That was to view if any of us was the Man they dreamed of.  Obs. 
O Lord! if it be thy will, let me be the Man the Princess dreams of.  Spend. 
And I desire I might be the Man they all did dream of; which if so, the Grand signor would not be better served, then I should; nor more numerously, for I should have all the young Women in the Kingdom.  Mode. 
If you had, you could not mary them all.  Spend. 
No, but I could Manage them all.  Mode. 
They would rather Manage you.  Spend. 
I should be well pleased to be Managed by a young Lady.  Mode. 
But not by so many young Ladies as are in the Kingdom.  Obs. 
If he were, he would be Managed so, as to be a lame Jade. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter Lady Quick-wit, and Self-conceit. Quick-wit. 
SElf-conceit, the new Maids are come that are to be our Chamber-fellows.  Self. 
Where, where are they? for God's sake, tell me quickly, I long to see them; but are they handsome?  Quick. 
No, by my troth; for one of them is so bashful, that what Beauty Nature hath given her, is spoiled for want of breeding; the other is none of Nature's choicest Pieces.  Self. 
But what are they?  Quick. 
They are gone by the back-staires, to the Princess.  Self. 
The Princess keeps her Chamber to day.  Quick. 
Yes, but she has permitted them into her Presence.  Enter all the Gentlemen. Self. 
Gallants, are the new Maids come from the Princess?  Mode. 
No, we come to see them; for it is said, they are very handsome.  Self. 
I have heard by two or three, That they are not handsome.  Quick. 
They are coming, they are coming.  Enter the Mother, and the Lady Bashful. Moth. 
Where is the Princess, Gentlemen, to give the Oath to this young Lady?  All the Gentlemen come to Salute Her. Obs. 
Mother, will you give me leave to Salute your Daughter?  Moth. 
Should I not give you leave. you would take leave. He Salutes the young Maid.  Obs. 
Lady, you will add to the Splendour of the Court.  Conv. 
Lady, you will advance the Glory of your Sex. He Salutes Her.  Mode. 
Mother, you are one of the fortunatest Mothers that ever came to the Court; for here was never such a company of Beauties at one time, as is at this time.  Moth. 
Come, come, you are all Flatterers; wherefore my Daughter beware of them.  Self. 
Mother, your new-come Daughter is bashful.  Quick. 
You must persuade her to hold up her head.  Self. 
What eyes has she, black or gray?  Moth. 
Well, well, pray have patience; for by that time she has been in the Court so long as either of you, has been, she will be as confident as any in the Court.  Quick. 
But Mother where is your other new Daughter?  Moth. 
She is coming forth; and by my faith she is a mettled Lass indeed. But come Daughter Bashful, we must go seek the Gentleman that must give you your Oath. Exit Mother, and Lady Bashful.  Quick. 
Lord! how simply she looks!  Mode. 
Give me a simplo Girl; I love to teach, not to learn.  Self. 
What a dull eye she has!  Conv. 
A Melancholy eye, for variety, sometimes pleases best.  Self. 
She has an unfortunate brow.  Obs. 
Her brows seem like a bow, that's ready bent to shoot Love's glances forth.  Quick. 
She hangs down her head as if she were working of Cross-stitch.  Spend. 
She looks as if she would be as constant as Penelope was.  Enter the other new Maid, the Lady Wagtail. Wagt. 
Where is the Mother, is she always so confident of her Daughters, as to leave them to themselves?  Mode. 
I mary Sir, this Lady seems to have mettal.  Conv. 
She seems of a free Spirit.  Obs. 
A Lady of an excellent Presence.  Spend. 
There is life in her Countenance.  Wagt. 
Pray, Gentlemen, which way went the Mother?  All the Gentlemen run out to seek the Mother, then return back and speak to Her. Lady. 
The Mother will come presently.  Wagt. 
Pray, Gentlemen, excuse me for troubling you; I should not have been so rude, but that I am ignorant of the ways in Court, but I shall be industrious to learn them, and then I shall be ready to serve you.  Gent. 
We are all your Vassals, Lady.  Lady Wagtail addresses her self to Self-conceit and Quick-wit. Wagt. 
Ladies, I shall be glad to have the honour of your Friendship, and to be endeared to such honourable Sisters.  Self. 
We shall be ready to serve you.  Enter Mrs. Wanton, one of the Maids of Honour, as running into the Room. Want. 
Where is my Comrade? where is my Comrade?  Wagtail and Wanton meet, Embrace and Kiss each other. Want. 
Dear Wagtail, thou art according to my heart.  Wagt. 
My dear Wanton, I make no doubt, but we shall agree very well.  Want. 
I was so joyed, when I heard you were allotted to be my Chamber-fellow, for I was so afraid of that clod of dull Earth, the new come fellow; for it is reported that she makes Conditions not to be with such a Chamber-fellow that sits up late, or hath much Company.  Wagt. 
The Princess says, she must be in the Chamber of Mrs. Quick-wit.  Quick. 
She shall not lye with me, let her lye in the Chamber of Mrs. Self-conceit.  Self. 
With me? By my troth, that shall not be, for shall I that have been here this dozen years, have the rubbish thrown into my Chamber?  Want. 
Why, then she must lye with the old Mother, there is no other place.  Quick. 
Why, the old Mother sits up as late with the old Signiors of the Court, as any of her Daughters do with the young Monsieurs. Exeunt Ladies.  Obs. 
I hope if there be no room for the young Lady amongst Women, she will be forced to come to us Men for a Lodging.  Mode. 
Faith, we shall quarrel as much, who shall have her, as the Women do, to cast her out of their Company.  Spend. 
I am of the Ladies mind, I would not willingly have her; for she appears with such a divine Purity, as if she would be apt to convert me from my Debauchery, and trouble my Conscience with Repentance. Exeunt.   

SCENE VI.  Enter Quick-wit and Wagtail. Quick-wit. 
LAdy, I hear you have an admiring Servant.  Wagt. 
For God's sake Lady Quick-wit, tell me who it is?  Quick. 
You know who it is.  Wagt. 
Nay, prithee tell me; in faith I know not who it is.  Quick. 
You dissemble in making yourself ignorant.  Wagt. 
In truth I do not know; wherefore prithee tell me, for I long to know who it is.  Quick. 
I hope your Servant has not put you into a longing humour?  Wagt. 
No, but you have, and therefore tell me.  Quick. 
'Tis reported, Monsieur Ape is your admiring Servant.  Wagt. 
Truly Monsieur Ape is a very fine Person.  Quick. 
Indeed he wears fine Clothes.  Wagt. 
The truth is, he is a neat spruce Courtier.  Quick. 
He ought to be so, spending most of his time in dressing and trimming himself.  Wagt. 
He is a very Civil Man to our Sex.  Quick. 
He is so, if it be a Civility to kiss the Ladies Busks, Fans, Gloves, and the tails of their Gowns.  Wagt. 
He is a well-bred Gentleman.  Quick. 
Yes, if good breeding lies in the Heels, for he dances well.  Wagt. 
He is an exact Courtier.  Quick. 
'Tis true, for he Flatters and compliments.  Wagt. 
He is a great Scholar.  Quick. 
He is well red in Fashions, and studies new Modes.  Wagt. 
He hath an Elegant speech.  Quick. 
And speaks in a Romancical style.  Wagt. 
And he has a ready Wit.  Quick. 
To imitate Extravagancies.  Wagt. 
He is a Valiant Man.  Quick. 
To take foolish Women Prisoners.  Wagt. 
He is a politic Man.  Quick. 
He is so, in pretending to have more power with the Emperor then he hath; by which means he gets Clients to Fee him, and simplo ignorant Men to Bribe him, for which Fees and Bribes, they have fair words and large promises, but not any performances.  Wagt. 
I perceive Monsieur Ape is not your admiring Servant, you speak so spitefully of him.  Quick. 
It seems I am not his admirer, I speak so truly of him.  Wagt. 
I must not hear any evil against my Servant Monsieur Ape.  Quick. 
Then you must not hear him mentioned.  Enter Lady Self-conceit, with her Portrait. Self. 
Quick-wit, I have been seeking you to show you my Portrait.  Quick. 
What Painter drew it?  Self. 
A Painter did not draw it, but a Poetical Lord did writ it.  Quick. 
So I perceive a Portrait is a Mode-Phrase for a Character, or a Description; and a Portrait, Character and Description of Particulars, signifies one and the same thing.  Self. 
Yes, but Characters and Descriptions have been so often used, writ and name, that the Readers are so wearied with those old fashioned names, as it keeps them all from reading the matter or subject of such Writings.  Quick. 
So, then the word Portrait is to invite the Readers to red it.  Self. 
No doubt of that, and well, if the word Portrait will persuade them to red it; but shall I red my Portrait to you?  Quick. 
Yes, I desire to hear a Portrait, for though I have seen many Portraits, yet I have never heard them speak.  Lady Self-conceit reads her Portrait. 

Your Curls of Hair like Clouds, yet black as night;  
Your Eyes as Stars do give a Sparkling light;  
Your Forehead like the Heavens milky way;  
Your Nose a hill of Snow in Valley lay;  
Your Lips like Rosie-morn when th' Sun doth rise,  
Shine on your Chin, as bright as he i'th' skies;  
From whence the Beams dilated on your breast,  
Do make a Torrid Zone 'tween East and West;  
And those that do this heavenly Picture view,  
Must needs confess 'twas only made for you.   Quick. 
Faith, this is like the Painter that drew a Rose for a Woodcock.  Self. 
What, do you call me a Woodcock?  Quick. 
Why? a Woodcock is a fine bide, and good Meat; but why did not this Portrait-maker draw or describe you no farther then the breast?  Self. 
By reason many Persons Pictures are drawn no farther.  Quick. 
It was a shrewd sign, he could similize no farther.  Self. 
He could not go beyond the Heavens.  Quick. 
In my opinion he has gone too great a Journey in going so far; for I believe it has made his Poetical feet, which I perceive to be diseased with the Gout, too weary; for he has travelled through the ecliptic line; but if he have crost the line, I think he must have gone from South to North, a very could Climate.  Self. 
I perceive you are spiteful at my Portrait, because you have not one made of you.  Quick. 
Can you blame me if I be spiteful to see you Metamorphosed from a Terrestrial Body, to a celestial Portrait.  Enter Observer and Conversant. Obs. 
Ladies, how doth the Princess?  Quick. 
The Princess is very Melancholy, and it is feared she will fall into a Consumption.  Self. 
But the Emperor to prevent it, will sand for all the Gentry and Nobility in the Empire to present themselves to the Princess, and whomsoever she likes, she shall have.  Conv. 
But how if her Idea should prove a Married Man?  Quick. 
The truth is, it disturbs the Thoughts of Married Wives; for those that love their Husbands, are afraid, and those that care not for their Husbands hope; but all the Men are well pleased in hope of being Emperor, for you know the Princess is Heir to the Crown.  Enter Mode. Mode. 
Lady, how doth the Princess?  Quick. 
She is as all Lovers are, Melancholy.  Mode. 
Are all Lovers Melancholy?  Quick. 
Yes, when they cannot enjoy their Beloved; and her Beloved is but a shadow, which the more it is followed, the farther it flies; wherefore she is Melancholy, as being despised.  Self-conceit fighs. Quick. 
What makes you sigh?  Self. 
Faith, because I am not a Princess, to have my choice of all the Men in the Empire.  Quick. 
I would not be a Princess upon that condition, for I should be as much troubled to choose, as to refuse.  Self. 
That is a sign you love Men well.  Quick. 
Why say you so?  Self. 
Because you express your trouble, that you should desire more then one, and be loth to deny any.  Enter a Fool. Fool. 
Oh Ladies, Oh the strange sights that I have seen! the monstrous strange sights that I have seen!  Quick. 
What monstrous sights have you seen?  Fool. 
Why, I have seen strange Monsters!  Quick. 
What Monsters?  Fool. 
I saw Men with strange Heads, and as strange Bodies; for they had the speech of Men, and the upright shape of Men, and yet were partly like as other Creatures; for one Man had an Asses head, and his body was like a Goose; another Man had a Jack-a-napes-head, but all his body was like a Baboon, and he shew'd tricks, as Jack-a-napes and Baboons use to do; another Man had a Swines head, and all his body was like a Goat; Another had a head like a Stag, with a large pair of branched Horns, and all his body was featured like a Woodcock, and his arms were feathered as a Woodcocks wings, but he could not fly from his disgrace, for his Horned head did hinder the flight of his Wings; Then I saw a Woman that was not like a Mare-Maid, for Mare-Maids are like Women from the head to the waste, and from the waste like a Fish; but this Woman was like a Fish from the head to the waste, and from the waste like a Beast; so that she was a Batons rompus; Another Woman had the eyes of a Crocodile, but her body was like a changeable chameleon; and many other Monstrous Creatures did I see.  Self. 
Where did you see those Monsters?  Fool. 
Where they are to be seen.  Self. 
Where is that?  Fool. 
In Dreams, when I was asleep.  Quick. 
It seems you have a Fool's head that dreams such fantastical Dreams.  Fool. 
The wisest and gravest heads that are, do dream such Dreams; for a Philosopher's head hath butter-flies Dreams; and a Politician, although he has a Foxes head when he is awake, yet he has but an Asse's head when he sleeps.  Quick. 
You are a Knave awake, and a Fool asleep.  Fool. 
Then I am a wise Man.  Quick. 
Is a Knave a wise Man?  Fool. 
According to the foolishness of the World he is; for if the World of Mankind, which is the most part, were not Fools, Knaves could not cousin them; and those are wiser that deceive, then those that are deceived; at least, they are accounted so by those Fools they have deceived.  Self. 
You speak like an Ass.  Fool. 
If I speak like Balaam's Ass, I speak wisely; but truly Ladies I had a pleasant Dream.  Quick. 
What Dream was that?  Fool. 
I dreamed that all the Princess Maids of Honour did dance about me, and after that they did all kiss me, which was very pleasant to me; for though they danced like Apes, they kissed like courtesans.  Quick. 
Out, you Rogue, do you say we kiss like courtesans.  Fool. 
Why all Women kiss alike, ask the Gentlemen.  Exit Fool. Self. 
Come Quick-wit, let us go and see how the Princess doth. Exeunt.  Obs. 
The Ladies are much concerned for the Princess Sickness.  Mode. 
I believe they are all troubled with that Disease, although they are more crafty to conceal it.  Conv. 
The Emperor is very strict to the Princess, so that he will not suffer any Man to come near her but mimic the fool; and he is only suffered to divert her Melancholy.  Obs. 
He is more a Knave then a Fool; wherefore he might more safely have trusted the wisest Man in the Kingdom.   

SCENE VII.  The Princess lies upon a Couch as sick, and her eyes shut. Soft music is heard, and a Song sung. 

You God of Sleep sand Dreams for to restore  
The Princess mind to be as 'twas before;  
Or else you other Gods that dwell above,  
Cause her to dream of a seraphic Love:  
Let not her Mortal Soul so cloud the Light  
Of her Immortal Soul that shines so bright.  
Cast out the vain Idea from her brain,  
That nothing of that Figure may remain.   After this, the Fool standing at the Door, sings a part of an Old Ballet; as follows. 

This long seven years and more, have I still loved thee,  
Do then my joy restore, fair Lady pity me,  
Pity my grievous pains long suffered for thy sake,  
Which will not let me rest, for no rest can I take:  
Fair Lady pity me, do not my svit deny,  
O yield me some relief that shall for sorrow die.  
How can I pity thee, the Lady then replied,  
I am no Match for thee, thy svit must be denied;  
I am of Royal blood, thou of a mean degree,  
It stands not for my Good that I should mary thee:  
This Answer oft I had, which struck my heart full deep,  
And on my bed full soft did I lye down and weep.   Singing the last Verse, the Fool enters, and the Princess awakes. Prin. 
How dare you disturb me with your Foolery?  Fool. 
Fools never disturb, for we are made for Laughter, not for anger.  Prin. 
Carry away the Fool to the Porters Lodge, and let him be soundly whipped.  Fool. 
No, carry the Princess to the Emperors Chamber, and let her there be whipped, for she is more Fool then I; for she is in love with a Dream, and I am in love with a Princess; the truth is, I have a great desire to be an Emperor, and you had better love a Fool then a Shadow.  Prin. 
In truth I will tell the Emperor my Father.  Fool. 
I faith, that will not help you; for he is wise, and knows I am the fittest Match for you; for he knows that when two Fools mary, they make but one Fool; and he will choose rather to have but one Fool then two; and when we are Married we shall make one grand Fool, and that will amount, and be as much as indifferently wise.  Prin. 
I will have your Tongue cut out of your Head.  Fool. 
You will as soon cut off my Head; but let me tell you, You shall not; nay by'r Lady, you must not be in this humour, the Emperor commands it, as also that you shall come to him. Exeunt Omnes.    

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Enter Spend-all in a fine svit of Clothes, meeting Conversant. Conversant. 
JUpiter bless us! how fine and brave you are, in a rich svit of Clothes; is this your Wedding day?  Spend. 
No, this day is not my Wedding day; but this svit is my Wooing-Suit, for I am going to woe an old Lady, who is very Rich.  Conv. 
Is she Wise?  Spend. 
I hope not, for if she were, she would never grant my svit; but if she be a Fool, as I hope she is, then Youth and Bravery will win her.  Conv. 
And the more sprightly, lively, and fantastical you appear, the better the old Lady will like you.  Spend. 
I believe you; but I doubt that the sight of the old Lady will put me into so dull and Melancholy a humour, as I shall not please her.  Conv. 
Imagine her a young Beauty.  Spend. 
I cannot imagine her a young Beauty, when I see her; for Imagination works only upon absent Objects.  Conv. 
Then think her your Reverend Grand-Dame.  Spend. 
That will make me think of death, she being dead.  Conv. 
Nay faith, she will rather make you think of a Resurrection.  Spend. 
Can I think an old wrinkled Woman, a glorified body?  Conv. 
I forgot the Glory, I only thought of Life; but however, you may think her a Saint.  Spend. 
That I cannot, if she mary me, a young, vain, deboist Man, which is, a Sinner.  Conv. 
Imagine she Marries you to convert you from Evil to Good.  Spend. 
Nay faith, she would sooner pervert me, were I good, to evil; but were she a wise, reverend, virtuous aged Woman, I could love her better then a wanton young Filly; also, I should be ruled and governed by her experienced advice and counsel; but those ancient Women that are so, will not mary a wild, vain young Man.  Conv. 
There is not any thing that can rule, advice, or govern you, but Time.  Spend. 
Why, an ancient Woman is Time; for though she be not old Father Time, yet she is old Mother Time.  Conv. 
Well, go to the old Lady, woe her, win her, and mary her; for if you will wink, or shut your eyes, she will be as pleasing as a young Wife.  Spend. 
Would you have me a blind Wooer, and a blind Husband?  Conv. 
It would be happy for some Husbands if they were blind, that they might not see their own disgrace; for many a Husband sees his Neighbour in bed with his Wife; and it would be great wisdom in old Women, if they would, or must of necessity, mary a young Man, to mary a blind young Man, that he might not see her decays, ruins and wrinkles.  Spend. 
Well, I will go and try if I can persuade this old Lady to mary me.  Conv. 
Do so, for it may become a fashion for young Men to mary old Women.  Enter Lady Bashful, Spend-all addresses himself to her. Spend. 
Lady, I was a while since in the Privy Chamber, where my eyes did search for you, but they could not single you out from the rest of the Ladies.  Bash. 
It seems that either you were blind, or that I had not any Beauty.  Spend. 
The Ladies in Court, when they stand close together, are like the Heaven's milky way; for the number of Stars appears like a thick white stream, so as no particular Star can be discerned.  Bash. 
I had rather be a Meteor singly alone, then a Star in a Crowd. Exit.  Enter Lady Quick-wit. Spend. 
Lady, will you give me leave to be your admiring Servant?  Quick. 
The truth is, we Ladies in Court have so many Courting-Servants, that we know not how to govern them.  Spend. 
I shall be governed easily; for I will watch your looks with admiration, listen to your words with great attention, study your thoughts with serious Contemplation, and obey all your Commands with pious devotion.  Quick. 
Admiration dazzles the sight, sight stops the hearing, hearing hinders the thinking, and action is an enemy to study.  Spend. 
You have so much Wit, Lady, that your Wit is able to govern the whole World.  Quick. 
Wit can easier make a World, then govern a World; for Wit is a better architect then Governor; in truth Wit cannot rule itself; for Wit is ruled by judgement; and thus by mispraising Wit, you have done judgement wrong. Exit Quickwit.  Spend. 
Faith, I am an unfortunate Man in Courtships.  Conv. 
That is, because you compliment with the Ladies, that love to have Men talk to them rudely.  Spend. 
Well, I will try my own way of Courtship once more, if I can converse with any of them again.  Conv. 
Then you shall never win their favours.  Enter Lady Self-conceit. Spend. 
Lady, you are finer dressed then any Lady in the Court.  Self. 
'Tis a sign I want Beauty, that I am forced to use the art of dressing; and you the flattery of Commendations, seeing I had not Beauty worthy of a true praise.  Spend. 
The Court is the Sphere of Beauty, Lady.  Self. 
And Men are Beauties Gazers.  Spend. 
Men are Love's Astronomers, Lady.  Self. 
And what new Star-like Beauty have you found out?  Spend. 
You, Lady.  Exit Self-conceit without Answering. Spend. 
Oh happy Man that I am, for I am a Conqueror.  Conv. 
Of what are you a Conqueror, of Wit?  Spend. 
No of Love; for silence gives consent.  Conv. 
But you did not woe her to love.  Spend. 
Not woe her! prithee what have I been speaking all this while?  Conv. 
Why, you have been Complementing.  Spend. 
'Tis true, and compliments are Lovers Wooings.  Conv. 
But you forget the old Lady; you were going to woe before you saw these young Ladies.  Spend. 
Hang Old Ladies, give me a Young Lady.  Conv. 
But consider, the old Lady is rich.  Spend. 
'Tis true, and I want wealth; wherefore I'll go a wooing to the old Lady, and leave my heart with the young Ladies; but now I think better of it; I will not go, for I believe you stay here to watch a time, to get one of these young Beauties alone.  Conv. 
No, no, I will stay here to be an Agent in love, for you.  Spend. 
I desire no such Agent as you; for you arc a subtle, sly Gentleman; you will take your time and opportunity; besides, you have Lands and Money, which will win a young Lady sooner, then fine Clothes and compliments will do.  Conv. 
Prithee be not jealous; for young Ladies are not so wise as to love prudently.  Spend. 
What a Pox should you dwell in this Room, if it were not for some such design?  Conv. 
I stay here to observe Humours, hear Wit, and to see Beauties.  Spend. 
And not to make Love?  Conv. 
No.  Spend. 
If it be so, then, prithee, praise me to the young Ladies.  Conv. 
I will, I will.  Spend. 
Do not forget any of my good parts.  Conv. 
I cannot forget them; for I do not remember any you have.  Exit Spend-all. Enter Observer. Conv. 
Observer, I wonder you will be absent out of this Room, in regard you only come to observe the Court beauties and Court-wits.  observe. 
Faith, I became tired and wearied of the observations in this Room, the Presence; and so I went into the Privy-Chamber to observe the Emperor.  Conv. 
And how did he appear?  observe. 
He did appear in Majesty, as far beyond his Royalty, as his Royalty appears above his meanest Subjects.  Conv. 
Then he appeared as a God.  observe. 
Indeed he appeared above what is mortal.  Conv. 
And did you hear him speak?  observe. 
Yes; and he was in so witty a vein, that my Hearing was( as if it were) tied to his speech, and my Mind so filled with delight, that I had not power to stir from the place I stood, but both my body and mind were( as 'twere) fixed to a Deitical Centre.  Conv. 
I perceive, that you, instead of an Observer, are become a Courtier; and now you have learned to flatter.  Obs. 
Not so, for by heaven I speak the truth of my thoughts and belief; for though I do not believe the Emperor to be a God, yet God and Nature have made, and endowed him, to be above all other Men; for name me any other Prince or private Man in this age, that has that sweet Nature, excellent Qualities, experienced knowledge, clear Understanding, upright Justice, heroic Courage, free Generosity, and divine Clemency as he has; and if you match him in all the known World, proclaim me a Fool and a liar, which is to be a Flatterer, a 'vice I hate.  Conv. 
I confess, there are two Reasons that persuade me to be of your mind; the first is, That I have observed the same in the Emperor; the second is, That I did never know you to flatter, dissemble, or speak false in my life; for you are so infinitely proud, that you will not descend so low as to flatter, or be so humble in praises, were it to God himself.  Obs. 
God is too Omnipotent for Praise, and our Emperor too heroic and truly Royal for Flattery; so that the one is not a subject for praise, nor the other for Flattery.   

SCENE II.  Enter Lady Quick-wit, Self-conceit, Wanton and Wagtail. Self-conceit. 
I Will tell you a Wonder.  Quick. 
What Wonder?  Self. 
Why, I found Mrs. Bashful alone with a Man.  Quick. 
Why, that's no wonder to see a Man and a Woman alone, especially in the Court; for we watch all opportunities, upon every occasion, to be so.  Self. 
But 'tis a wonder to see Bashful alone with a Man, and abroad too; for she shuns Men, as she would do Serpents, and locks her Chamber-doors against them, and accounts it a crime to be seen undressed, and a sin not to be forgiven, to be seen in bed.  Quick. 
Why, she was neither in bed, nor undressed, I suppose.  Self. 
No, she was at Madam Civilities house, and 'tis to be hoped she will come to it in time, when she has so much wit, as to hold a Discourse.  Want. 
She hold a Discourse! she wants the Capacity, she wants the Capacity.  Wagt. 
Nay, you can give the best relation or description of her; for you were her bed-fellow.  Self. 
Prithee what is she? a mere Mope; doth she never speak or discourse to you?  Want. 
You shall judge, whether she doth or not; for she will never ask a question, nor make a doubt, nor give her opinion upon any thing.  Enter Bashful. Quick. 
Come poor Bashful, there is none makes much of thee.  Bash. 
I should be loth to be made much of, after the Court-fashion.  Wagt. 
After the Court-fashion! how is that? express it, express it.  Bash. 
Nay, you can express it best.  Quick. 
Faith, I pity thee for having no Servant.  Bash. 
I had rather be pitied for having no Servant, then censured for having too many.  Self. 
If you be a good Girl, and do as the rest of your Honourable Sisters, or as all Court-Ladies do, I will sand you some of my worn Servants to Court you.  Bash. 
No, pray keep them as a store, lest you should want yourself. Exit Bashful.  Self. 
Faith, she is fitter for a Nunnery, then a Court.  Quick. 
But I observe the Court has improved her Wit.  Want. 
Nay, the Court is the only Place to make Fools, Wits.  Quick. 
Or Wits, Fools. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Spend-all, and Conversant. Conversant. 
MOnsieur Spend-all, how do you prosper in your old Lady's affection?  Spend. 
Faith, more prosperously then I desire.  Conv. 
Would not you willingly enjoy her.  Spend. 
Yes her Wealth, but not her Person.  Conv. 
You must take the worse with the better; for I have observed, that Fortune, Fate, Nature, and the Gods, mix Good and Evil, Pleasure and Discontent, Health and Sickness together.  Spend. 
I confess there is not any thing perfect, or pure in Nature; but God be praised in his Creatures, and all things.  Conv. 
Then God be praised for the love of the old Lady to you.  Spend. 
I have much strife with myself to give praises for her; but I desire and should give thanks to see some of the young Ladies, that I might converse with them to revive me from death to life, from hate to love.  Enter Lady Quick-wit. Spend. 
Lady, you are the life of the Court.  Quick. 
And the Court is the life of me, Sir.  Spend. 
Your Eyes give light to all the beholders.  Quick. 
I had rather my wit could give life to all the Hearers.  Spend. 
But your Beauty doth excel all the Beauties in the Court.  Quick. 
Until you converse with another Lady, and then her Beauty doth as far excel mine, as mine at this present doth excel others.  Spend. 
Indeed, Beauty appears best in Conversation.  Quick. 
And worse with often viewing.  Spend. 
No more then the light of the Sun doth.  Quick. 
The more the Sun is gazed upon, the blinder the fight is.  Spend. 
That is the reason the splendour of the Sun's light doth over-power the sight.  Quick. 
Why, then the splendour puts out the sight of his light, which buries his glory in the darkness of blindness; and if my Beauty doth the like, I am sorry for it; for I would not have such a Beauty as digs its own grave in the Eyes of its admirers; but as a moderate Light, so moderate a Beauty pleases the sight best. Exit Quick-wit.  Enter Lady Self-conceit. Spend. 
Lady, there is not any Man doth more admire you, then I.  Self. 
If I have Merit, you ought to give Merit its due; and if I am worthy of admiration, I am bound to the Gods and Nature for their favours, and not to you for your Praises.  Spend. 
But all men do neither honour, nor admire what is worthy of either.  Self. 
If they do not, the injury is to Nature and the Gods.  Exit Self-conceit. Conv. 
Faith, Spend-all, your compliments will not serve you in Love-matters.  Spend. 
I confess they are not fortunate.  Enter Lady Bashful. Spend. 
Madam, I wonder you should hid any part of your Face with Black-patches, your Face being fair and lovely.  Bashf. 
Black-patches curiously cut and struck upon he Face, are like wise Sentences in a Speech, they give Grace and Lustre.  Enter Self-conceit. Self. 
Lady Bashful, I have been seeking you all the Court over, in every Lodging, and I could not find you.  Bashf. 
You see, I am not lost, for here I am; but where's the Lady Quickwit?  Self. 
She is within, and asks for you.  Enter Quickwit. Quick. 
O! it is so could! so very could, as it is able to frieze all the Lovers hearts in the Court and City!  Conv. 
And not in the Country, Lady?  Quick. 
O no, for those that dwell in the Country, make such great Blazing-fires, as they thaw could, and heat Love.  Conv. 
Love doth not require Heat, for it is sufficiently hot of itself.  Quick. 
Yes, when it is in a Fever, in which Love most commonly dies: But come Ladies, shall we go to Supper?  Spend. 
Conversant, tell Lady Quick-wit, I am in Love with her.  Conv. 
Lady, Monsieur Spend-all says, he is in Love with you.  Quick. 
I hate to hear of Love by a Second, it seems so like a Challenge. Exeunt all the Ladies.  Spend. 
Faith, Court-Ladies have quick Wits.  Conv. 
They are bread to answer, they are so often spoken to, but of all the Ladies, I confess, I like the Lady Quick-wit.  Spend. 
Faith, I like them all so well, I know not which to like best; and I wish with all my heart, they all would like me as well as my old Lady doth; Oh, what a happy Man should I be, for I should have variety of Pleasures! Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Wagtail, and Wanton. Wanton. 
THe Lord of Loyalty sent me a merry Letter to day; and in the Letter, a Copy of Verses, desiring me to give them to Madam Bashful.  Wagt. 
Faith, those Verses will make her so conceited with her self, that she will be so proud, as to think her self the only she in the Court; wherefore, let me advice you not to give them her.  Want. 
But what shall I say to the Lord of Loyalty, if he should ask me, whether I had given them to her.  Wagt. 
Put it off with Rallery.  Enter the Mother, and Observer. Want. 
Mother, where is your Daughter Bashful, she is not here to attend the Princess coming forth?  Moth. 
She is gone abroad.  Wagt. 
Yes, to meet the Lord Loyalty.  Want. 
Indeed Mother, you are too blame, to let your Daughters go abroad without you; and if the Princess should know of it, she would be very angry.  Moth. 
Why, she asked the Princess leave.  Wagt. 
It is a shane she should be abroad without the Mother; it is enough to disgrace all the Sister-hood; and therefore for Juno's sake, sand for her home.  observe. 
Why Ladies, I have known the Princess's Maids many times to go abroad without the Mother, and no disgrace to their Honour.  Want. 
But not to meet such Company as she is gone to, for all the Kingdom knows, the Lord of Loyalty is none of the chastest men; and he courts her for her Youth and Beauty; 'tis not likely he will mary her; for he loves Variety too well, to tie himself to one.  observe. 
Truly I am of that opinion; but she is so virtuous, she cannot be corrupted.  Enter Self-conceit. Self. 
Mother, the Princess is very angry that Madamoisel Bashful is gone abroad without you; she says, that though she gave her leave to go abroad, she thought she had so much discretion as to take the Mother along with her; but you must sand for her presently.  Want. 
Go, go, quickly Mother, quickly.  Wagt. 
I will go for her.  Want. 
Nay, I will go for her.  Self. 
Nay, pray stay, and let the Mother go her self.   

SCENE V.  Enter Observer, Conversant. Conversant. 
MOnsieur Observer, I heard a Lady say, you were a Fool.  Obs. 
Ladies may say what they please.  Conv. 
But it seems, you have not pleased her, that she calls you Fool.  Obs. 
It seems I have not courted her.  Conv. 
Are Ladies never pleased but when they are Courted?  Obs. 
No Faith; for then they think they are not thought handsome.  Conv. 
Indeed Women delight in their Beauties.  Obs. 
Not unless men admire their Beauties; for they are delighted with their Beauties, for the delight of Courtship; Beauty gets them suitors; for were they ill-favoured, they would never be wooed,  Conv. 
But when they are wooed, they are not presently won.  Obs. 
Yes Faith, they are won before they be wooed; and being wooed, they presently yield.  Conv. 
The truth is, Women have kind natures.  Obs. 
Not so kind as willing.  Conv. 
Women are Loving-creatures.  Obs. 
Yes, they are Self-lovers.  Conv. 
Not when they give themselves to men.  Obs. 
They give themselves to men, because men should give themselves to them.  Conv. 
So they love men out of self-interest.  Obs. 
No doubt of it.  Conv. 
You are an unjust Man.  Obs. 
In what?  Conv. 
In dispraising all the Sex out of a displeasure to one Woman, for calling you Fool.  Obs. 
I should not only be called a fool, but should prove myself one, if I should regard what Women say.  Enter Monsieur Wedlock. Conv. 
Monsieur Wedlock, how doth your Lady?  Wedl. 
She is groaning and complaining.  Conv. 
What is she in labour?  Wedl. 
No, but she is breeding.  Conv. 
Monsieur Spend-all, I hear you are entering into the Matrimonial Order.  Spend. 
Yes, Faith, I am going into the Order of Cuckolds, Wittals, or Fools.  Obs. 
Why, Marriage is an honourable. Order.  Spend. 
The Order is as it proves; but if you think it so honourable, why will not you be one of this Matrimonial Order?  Obs. 
Because I am not ambitious of such Honours; but is the Lady you are to mary very beautiful, Monsieur Spend-all?  Spend. 
No, but she is Rich.  Wedl. 
Is she of honourable birth?  Spend. 
No, but she is Rich.  Wedl. 
Is she well bread?  Spend. 
No, but she is Rich.  Wedl. 
Is she wise?  Spend. 
No, but she is Rich.  Wedl. 
Do you mary only for Riches?  Spend. 
Yes; for Necessity forces me to mary an ill-favoured, foolish, old doting Woman.  Wedl. 
Much good may she do you.  Spend. 
Nay faith, she will not do me any good, unless she would die soon; but her Wealth will do me much good, and I shall prove an excellent Husband to her Riches.  Obs. 
You are so deboist and wild, that you cannot be a good Husband to any thing.  Spend. 
But I shall; for when I am so rich, as to have wherewithal to spend, I shall then be so thrifty as to spare; for it is to be observed, That Rich Men for the most part are miserable and covetous, when those that have but little, spend all they have, or can get.  Obs. 
Pray bring me to visit this old foolish Lady you are to mary.  Spend. 
You must pardon me; if she were wise and young, I would let you see her; but being old and foolish, I dare not, lest you should entice her from me; for Old Women are more unconstant then Young; and being foolish, she will be so various, that her mind may change like the wind.  Obs. 
You may trust me, were she young, beautiful, chast, honourable, well-bred, witty and rich; for I will never mary.  Spend. 
Yes, if you could get a Wife, with all these Excellencies.  Obs. 
I would not mary, could I get a Wife with all those fore-mentioned Excellencies, as you call them; for were she young, she would want discretion, for want of Experience; were she beautiful, she would make me jealous, for Beauty is Courted; were she honoured with title, she would strive to rule, and would not be ruled; were she that which is name good breeding, which is to Fiddle, Dance, Sing, and speak divers Languages, and to know the Female and Masculine Genders in Languages, she would Gossip abroad, and seek out Company, and be at all public Meetings, to show her breeding; if she have Wit, she will be always talking, and always opposing, to prove her Wit; if she be chast, she will be proud; if she be fruitful, she will be sickly and froward; if she be rich, she will spend much, because she brought much, and in the end will make me poorer then I am; and on the other side, were she old, I should not embrace her; were she ill-favoured, I should have an aversion against her; were she of mean birth, and ill breeding, I should be ashamed of her; were she a fool, I should not regard her; were she poor, I should despise her; were she false, I should part from her.  Spend. 
Well, Monsieur Observer, since you will neither mary old, nor young, handsome, nor ill-favoured, chast nor wanton, mean nor honourable, foolish nor wise, poor nor rich, but are resolved to live a bachelor, I will bring you to be acquainted with my old Mistress, that must be my old Wife, and Mr. Wedlock will bring you acquainted with his young Wife.  Wedl. 
By my faith, but I will not.  Spend. 
No, why?  Wedl. 
Because he doth not declare he will not make Courtships to Wives, though he declares he will not have a Wife; and unless he declare and profess, he will not make love to other Men's Wives, I will not bring him acquainted with my Wife.  Spend. 
Why, do you mistrust your Wife?  Wedl. 
No, but I mistrust him; and were I sure my Wife would not yield, yet I do not love she should be tempted: But howsoever, to keep a Wife safe, is, to keep her close from Courtships, and from Masculine Acquaintance.  Conv. 
But Women will get liberty one way or other, if they have a wanton mind, and desire change.  Wedl. 
Yet it is the part of a wise Husband to do his endeavour to keep her honest.  Obs. 
Well, I will neither visit Monsieur Spend-all's old Mistress, nor your young Wife; but I'll go with you to a merry Meeting, where I suppose, there will be those Women that will better please me, then the old Woman, and easier be enjoyed then your young Wife; wherefore, if you will go, Gentlemen, I will present you a Supper.  Spend. 
If you will present us with Mistresses, we will go with you.  Obs. 
They will present themselves.  Enter Monsieur Mode to the rest. Spend. 
Monsieur Mode, it is reported, that you have the art to Court two or three Mistresses at one time; which if you have, I shall desire to be your Scholar, for I could never be in the favour of two Mistresses at one time; for the Courting of one lost me the other, and those I lose, become my Enemies.  Mode. 
He is a poor Man that hath but one Mistress; and he is a fool in Courtship, that cannot Court half a dozen Mistresses at one time.  Spend. 
So, by this you call me a poor fool.  Mode. 
If you were not a fool, you would not desire to be my Scholar; and if you were not poor, you would not desire more then you have.  Spend. 
Then make me wiser and richer.  Mode. 
Would you be wiser for profit, or wiser for pleasure.  Spend. 
For pleasure!  Mode. 
Would you be richer for Wealth, or richer for Honour, or richer in a number of Mistresses?  Spend. 
Richer in a number of Mistresses.  Mode. 
Then be bold, rude, and vain, talk much without sense, swear much without cause, brag much without reason, accoutre yourself fantastically, behave yourself carelessly, and employ time idly; and be sure you rail of all Women generally, but praise every particular one, but so as in a general way, as some for one thing, and some for another, as you shall think best, by which you will keep them all in hopes; for if you should praise only one, that one will be too proud, and then disdain you, and the rest through despair will hate you; also in your actions you must behave yourself generally, as in a careless way, dividing your Courtships amongst them all, as to kiss one Woman's hand, another's neck, a third Woman's lips, embrace a fourth, rally with a fifth, and bed with the sixth; and after this manner you may Court twenty Mistresses at least at one time, and serve yourself in private with them all one after another; for though you may Court many Mistresses at one time in public, yet in private you must have but one at a time, and she will believe, or at least make her self believe, she is the only she that is beloved.  Spend. 
I will follow your Instruction; and if I thrive, I will give you thanks.  Mode. 
But if you be not ingenious, and well practised, my Instructions will do you but little good; for you may be like Players, that have excellent parts, and spoil them in the Acting; or like a Minister that chooses a good Text, and wants Oratory to preach of it; or you may be like a bungling tailor that spoils a fine svit of Clothes with ill making: But if you will thrive, you must be of many Professions; and if you will be a Master of Courtship, you must be learned in the Liberal Arts and Sciences; you must be an Astrologer to foresee your Times, and their Times; an Astronomer to find out their Humours; a Cosmographer to measure their Capacities; a Philosopher, to pierce into their Natures and Dispositions; a Logician, to make their Vanities and Vices appear virtues; an Arithmetician, to number their Praises, and cipher their Follies; and a Mathematician to draw them to your desires and delights.  Spend. 
I shall do my best endeavour; but I fear that most Women are not worth so much pains, study and practise.  Mode. 
As for that, your idle Times must judge of it.  Spend. 
Well, I will go to my Lodgings, and consider it.  Mode. 
Nay, faith, Consideration will spoil all my Instructions. Exit Spend-all, the rest stays.  Enter Lady Wagtail, Wanton, Self-conceit, and Bashful, as also the Mother. Self. 
'Tis well you are come, I would not be in your condition for any thing.  Wagt. 
I'faith, you will be talked withal.  Want. 
If I were in so sad a condition, I know what I know.  Bash. 
Why Ladies, I have neither deserved Imprisonment, nor Death, which is the worst that can come unto me; but if I be condemned, I shall suffer both with patience and with courage.  Self. 
O Lord! she speaks freely.  Wagt. 
She has found a Tongue since she went.  Wagt. 
'Tis well, if she has lost nothing, since she went.  Self. 
On my word you have done very ill, which you deserve to be chid for.  Want. 
I believe the Princess will turn you away.  Bash. 
I am very sorry I have offended the Princess; but yet I have done nothing but what I had her leave for.  Enter Lady Quickwit. Quick. 
Madamoisel Bashful, you must come to the Princess. Exeunt Bashful and Quickwit.  Obs. to the Moth. 
Alas poor Mother we were all afraid you were killed.  Moth. 
killed, who should kill me?  Obs. 
Why, a rough, rude Coachman.  Moth. 
Which way should he kill me?  Obs. 
With tumbling you over.  Moth. 
How tumbling me over?  Obs. 
With your head downward, and your heels upwards.  Enter Madamoisel Quick-wit. Self. 
What News? what News? what doth Madamoisel Bashful confess?  Want. 
What doth she confess?  Quick. 
Why, she confesses, she was at Madamoisel Civilitie's house, where she met the Lord Loyalty.  Wagt. 
And what said the Princess then?  Quick. 
Why the Princess chid her for offering to meet any Man without her leave; But she has pardoned her for this time, and you must go all to the back-stairs, and stay there to wait on the Princess into the Gallery.  Exeunt Women. Mode. 
I would the Ladies had as much love for me, as they are angry with their fellow-Lady.  Conv. 
If they had, they would overpower you with their kindness.  Mode. 
I would desire nothing more but to be so overpowered.  Enter Self-conceit in hast running over the Stage. Self. 
Run, run.  Enter Quick-wit, passing in hast over the Stage. Quick. 
Follow, follow.  Enter Wanton. Want. 
Call, call, call.  Enter Mother. Moth. 
Bring, bring, bring.  The Men stand in a Maze. Enter Fool passing over the Stage. Fool. 
Oh the Lord! I am undone, undone.  The Men stop him. Conv. 
What is the matter, Fool?  Fool. 
I cannot stay to tell you.  Obs. 
But you must.  Fool. 
If I must, I must.  Conv. 
Tell me what makes this Hubbub, which seems to distracted the Ladies? is the Emperor not well, or the Princess sick?  Fool. 
The Emperor is well, but will have cause to be sick; and the Princess is sick, and will have cause to be well.  Mode. 
How so?  Fool. 
Because the Princess has spied her Idea, and will mary him, and so will be cured of her Melancholy, and be well; but he is a poor master or Sea-man, and that will make the Emperor sick.  Enter the Ladies, and the master passing over the Stage. Fool. 
Now you have seen the cause of the uproar, you will let me pass with my fellow-fools.  Exit Fool. Conv. 
Sure the Princess will not mary this poor fellow.  Obs. 
If she doth, the Court will be Metamorphorsed from a house to a Ship, and the Courtiers to Mariners.  Mode. 
Then we shall sail to some new Plantation.  Enter Lady Quick-wit, Self-conceit, Wanton. Want. 
As I live, he is a handsome Man.  Self. 
But he is a poor mean fellow.  Want. 
But a poor mean fellow may be a handsome Man.  Self. 
Not in my opinion.  Quick. 
Truly I am of the opinion, that Wealth doth not make Worth. Exeunt.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter the sailor leading the Princess, who appears well pleased, with the Attendance of Ladies and Gentlemen, and the Fool. Princess. 
SIR, although the Emperor is at Council, and will not be seen at the present, yet I will entertain you until such time as his Majesty admits you to his Presence.  The sailor Kisses her Hand. Fool. 
They say, Lovers promise much; if so, you are a Lover, for you promise more then you dare perform.  Prin. 
How so?  Fool. 
You say, you will entertain the Sailer's Company until the Emperor admits him to his Presence, and if he doth not admit him until to morrow, you must entertain his Company all night.  Prin. 
You are a Knave, Fool.  Fool. 
But I am not a Lady's Fool.  Prin. 
Come Gentlemen and Ladies, call for music, for we will dance until the Emperor rises from Council. One calls for music.  Prin. 
Sir, can you dance our Country Dances.  Sail. 
I will do my endeavour, Lady; and if I have not skill for the present, I will learn for the future, if you command me.  The music plays, they all dance, and the sailor with the Princess; the sailor dances civilly, gracefully, and with art and skill. Prin. 
Sir, you want not Art, for you Dance skilfully.  Sail. 
Lady, I want not Love, and Love works Miracles.  They Dance again: At the end of this Dance Enters a Gentleman. Gent. 
May it please your Highness, the Emperor desires your Presence.  The Princess whispers to the sailor, he bows and kisses her Hand. Exeunt All.  

SCENE II.  Enter all the Maids of Honour, except Madamoisel Bashful, and Self-conceit; as also Monsieur Conversant, Observer and Spend-all. Wanton. 
O That we might dance Country Dances to day.  Wagt. 
Why, Monsieur Spend-all makes a Ball to night, are not you one of the invited?  Want. 
O yes, but I had forgot the Ball.  Quick. 
Why, we are all invited.  Enter Self-conceit. Self. 
Do you hear the News?  Want. 
What News?  Self. 
Madamoisel Bashful and the Lord Loyalty are Married.  Wagt. 
For certain truth do you speak it?  Self. 
Of a certain truth 'tis so.  Quick. 
Why, the Lord Loyalty was accounted a Wise Man.  Obs. 
Why, Madam, he is never the less Wise for Marrying a virtuous sweet Lady.  Quick. 
What, not in these troublesone and mutinous Times.  Obs. 
In all times there was and is Marrying, and giving in Marriage; and those that are Honest are Wise, and it is Honest to mary, and Wise; for if Men and Women should live in common, it were the way to extinguish Propriety; and where there is no Propriety, there is no Justice; and without Justice a Commonwealth would be dissolved.  Wagt. 
Well, in my opinion he has done very indiscreetly.  Want. 
Nay, faith, methinks, he hath done very foolishly.  Self. 
In my opinion, she has done as foolishly as he, for he is a ruined man.  Conv. 
Give me leave to tell you, Ladies, there is never a one of you all who would have refused him, as ruined as he is; but you would have been ambitious and proud to mary him.  Wagt. 
You are deceived; for I would not mary him or any other, were he as rich as Pluto.  Want. 
Nor I would not mary, might I have a King.  Quick. 
Nor I to have been an empress.  Self. 
Nor I if I might have been Mistress of the whole World.  Spend. 
Then I perceive, Ladies, you are all resolved to live single lives.  Wagt. 
There is none happy, but those that are Mistresses of themselves.  Quick. 
I should never endure to be subject to a Husband.  Want. 
I hate Marriage as I hate death.  Self. 
I love Freedom, as I love Life.  Enter Mother. Quick. 
Mother, do you hear of your Daughter's Marriage?  Moth. 
Yes, and the Princess is very angry at it.  Quick. 
She hath reason.  Self. 
If I were the Princess, I would make them repent their Marriage.  Wagt. 
Yes faith, I would put water into their Wine.  Obs. 
Lord, Ladies, why should the Princess be angry either with him, or with her, since Marriage is honest, and free for every one to choose where they please; neither do I see either in Reason or Justice, why either of them should be condemned, since none will suffer, if they be unhappy, but themselves; and I suppose that none here is so ill-natured as to repined at their Felicity.  Self. 
Come, pray let us go see how she looks since she is Married.  Want. 
Proud, I'll warrant you.  Wagt. 
I dare swear she will carry state now.  Self. 
She was proud enough before she was Married, she cannot be much prouder then she was.  Quick. 
You say right, for what every body thought was bashfulness and modesty in her, was merely pride.  Exeunt Ladies, the Men stay. Obs. 
The Maids of Honour live so happily in the Court, and are so pleased with their several Courtships, as they hate to think of Marriage.  Mode. 
That's because they cannot get Husbands; for Men are afraid to mary Maids of Honour, because they are so used to Courtships, that they will give leave to be Courted when they are Married; besides, Men think them vain and expensive.  Spend. 
They speak so bitterly against Marriage, and all that are Married, as I do verily believe they would not mary upon any condition.  Mode. 
I will try them whether they will or no, for my own satisfaction.  Obs. 
Which way will you try them? for if you should examine them never so soberly, and gravely, they will never discover their minds so, that you shall know whether they would mary or not.  Mode. 
Faith, I will offer every one of them a Husband, and try if they will accept of them.  Obs. 
O, they will laugh at you, and scorn you for your offer.  Mode. 
Well, I will try them, let them scorn and laugh as they please.  Enter Monsieur Conversant. Conv. 
Monsieur Mode, I hear you intend to travail into Foreign Nations.  Mode. 
You hear right, Sir; for I want only travail to make me a complete Mode-Gallant; whereby, I shall be more graceful in the eyes of the Ladies.  Spend. 
But if your Travels be long, you will be less graceful in the eyes of the Ladies, for you will be too old to please their sight; but you want not Mistresses, nor the art of Courtship.  Mode. 
Faith, to tell you the truth, I would travail to see Foreign Beauties; for I am satisfied with the Ladies here in my Native Country.  Obs. 
I hope you have not taken a surfeit of them.  Spend. 
Truly I should be glad to have some of his Leavings.  Conv. 
It is a sign you are sharp set.  Obs. 
The old Lady has whet his appetite.  Spend. 
I confess old Women make wanton young Men.  Conv. 
Let Monsieur Mode Court your old Lady to cure his surfeit.  Spend. 
With all my heart, so he will bequeath me his young Mistresses.  Mode. 
I did instruct you how to Court and gain Ladies to your embracements; but either you are a dull Scholar, or an unfortunate Courtier.  Spend. 
I confess my ill fortune in Courtships; but you may be as unfortunate in Foreign Nations; for though you are Ala Mode here in your Native Country, 'tis likely you will be quiter out of fashion and language in other Nations.  Conv. 
For Language, I dare say he will be to learn.  Obs. 
Then how will he woe a Mistress?  Mode. 
O, Women are best pleased with those they understand least.  Spend. 
He knows the humours of Women best, he is so conversant with them; but prithee Mode do not travail until I have learned thy Art of Courtship.  Conv. 
Into what Countries will you travail, Monsieur Mode?  Mode. 
Into France and Italy; the one to refine my Habit, the other to refresh my sight with new Beauties.  Obs. 
Then they must not be ca-st courtesans; but let me persuade you to stay at home, and mary.  Mode. 
No, I will not mary, to lose my freedom.  Spend. 
Faith, and I intend to mary to take more liberty.  Mode. 
Marriage is a bondage.  Spend. 
Not if you mary a rich old Woman.  Conv. 
No, for her Riches will supply his wants, and maintain his Mistresses; and her age will be an excuse for his Adulteries.  Mode. 
Faith, Gentlemen, you speak reason; wherefore, I'll go a Wooing to Monsieur Spend-all's old rich Lady.  Spend. 
You will not speed there, for I am aforehand with you; for though you can Court young Women better then I, yet for old Women I go beyond you. But if you chance to mary a young Woman, I shall willingly change a nights lodging with you.  Mode. 
Are you Married to the old Lady?  Spend. 
I must mary her, which is my grief.  Mode. 
Pray bid us to your Wedding.  Spend. 
That I will, and feast you after I am Married, for I shall not be jealous of my Wife, nor afraid you will make me a cuckolded; and I have a desire to invite the young Female Courtiers.  Obs. 
That will make your old Lady jealous; and if she be jealous, when you are just upon the point of Marriage, she may chance to refuse you; wherefore, do not invite them until the next day, when she is past her choice.  Spend. 
You say true, and the next day we will Revel.   

SCENE III.  Enter Self-conceit and Quick-wit. Quick-wit. 
THe Emperor is highly discontent.  Self. 
If he be displeased, he can only be angry with himself; for when the Princess was so Melancholy, that she was ready to die, he did assure her, she should make her own choice of a Husband, and that he would not deny her any one Man in all his Empire.  Quick-wit. 
But this Man is not of his Empire, for he is a stranger.  Self. 
Faith, it would be but an even Match, whether she did choose a poor mean Native, or a poor mean Stranger. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Princess and the sailor; the Fool attends them; the Princess Weeps. sailor. 
WHy doth your Highness weep? for if the Emperor your Father be unjust, the Gods will not be so; for they will Crown our honest Loves with Happiness and Blessings.  Prin. 
But Lovers are never happy.  Sail. 
Believe not so; for true Lovers are always blessed with good success, and those that have ill fortune have not been true Lovers.  Enter such as are proper to deliver the Emperor's pleasure; they speak to the sailor. sailor, 
The Emperor's pleasure is, That you immediately go out of his Dominions; for if you be found in any part within such time as may be travelled to the Sea-side the shortest way, he will cut off your Head.  Sail. 
Tell the Emperor, I fear not death.  Men. 
Will not you be gone.  Sail. 
No, I will stay as long as I can.  Men. 
But you shall go, since it is the Emperor's pleasure, That we see you out of his Empire.  Sail. 
Be gone, and trouble me no more, or I'll beat you out of the Princess's Lodgings.  Men. 
You beat us, you poor Water-Snake!  Sail. 
Cupid, thou god of Love, and Mars thou god of War, assist me.  He falls upon them, and beats them out of the Room; the Princess seems to be in a fright. Sail. 
A Company of Cowardly Rascals, that have no more Courage then a flay, that skips at every little motion.  Prin. 
O my dear Love! what will you do?  Sail. 
Die in your Arms, sweet Mistress.  Prin. 
But you cannot resist the Emperor's Power.  Sail. 
But I can die in despite of the Emperor's Power.  Prin. 
But your death will be my death.  Sail. 
Say not so; for those words will beget such a belief, as to make me a Coward, which is more terrible to me then death; for in death lives Rest, but in a Coward lives Infamy.  Prin. 
But pray consider, if you will yield to depart out of the Empire, I may find means to depart with you, or to follow you.  Sail. 
Death is more Honourable then to fly from any misfortune; and though I love you better then my Soul, yet I had rather die then fly.  Prin. 
But by your willing death, you will become a cruel murderer, not only to yourself, but me.  Sail. 
Die you must, my dear Mistress, so must I.  Prin. 
Heaven grant that in one Grave we both may lye.  Fool. 
 shed no more tears, nor talk of Graves; for if you will absolutely be ruled by me, if I be not too hard for the Emperor, and all his councils, hang me when you are empress, which you must be; for the Power and Title comes from your Mother, not from your Father.  Prin. 
Tell me how?  Fool. 
Nay faith, a Fool must have some time for contrivance, as well as wise States-Men. Exeunt.    

ACT IV.  

SCENE I.  Enter Monsieur Mode, and Madamoisel Quick-wit. Mode. 
LAdy, there is one of my Acquaintance, that desires a Wife; but he may desire long enough, for I think none will have him for a Husband.  Quick. 
Why?  Mode. 
Why! he is the most deformed Man that ever was seen.  Quick. 
Well, if I were to choose a Husband, I would never choose a handsome Ma; for their Beauty makes them so self-conceited, that they regard not their Wives; besides, they seem, and are for the most part, effeminate, which I hate; wherefore, for my part, I would choose an ill-favoured Man, and the more ill-favoured he were, the better I should like him, as looking more Masculine.  Mode, 
O! but that's not all, Madam; for his Nature and Disposition is according to his Person; the one as evil, as the other ill-favoured.  Quick. 
O Sir, such a man I could love with all my heart; for a surly Nature seems heroic; when as such men as have sweet Dispositions, and gentle Natures, which is to be soft and facile, are Fools; and I would not mary a Fool for any thing in the world.  Mode. 
But Madam, let me tell you, He is none of the wisest.  Quick. 
Nay, Sir, mistake me not; for I would not have him a very wise man, lest he should condemn me as a Fool; but an indifferent understanding I like best.  Mode. 
Why, then this man would be a fit Husband for you.  Quick. 
The fittest in the World; Good Monsieur Mode speak for me, and I shall think myself obliged to you.  Mode. 
I shall motion you, Lady.  Exit Quick-wit. Enter Self-conceit. Mode. 
Madam, there is a Gentleman, an Acquaintance of mine, which entreated me to ask you, whether you would please to accept of him for a Husband, if he should offer himself to you; he is loth to have a personal denial, wherefore he would not make his addresses himself, unless he had an assurance you would entertain him.  Self. 
Pray Sir, what manner of man is he?  Mode. 
Faith Lady, I cannot much commend either his Person, or Parts, Humour, or Disposition; but he has a Competent Fortune, not so much, as to maintain a Wife gallantly, but decently.  Self. 
Why, that's as much as I desire; more would be but an unnecessary superfluity; as for Person, I regard not the outward Shape; and for his Humour and Disposition, I shall alter those when we are married; and truly Sir, I think myself much obliged to you, for mentioning the man unto me.  Mode. 
Your Servant Lady.  Self. 
Yours, Monsieur Mode.  Exit Self-conceit. Enter Wanton. Mode. 
Lady, I am tired with the importunity of a Gentleman, that will not let me rest in quiet, until I have informed you of his Affections to you, and for you.  Want. 
Who is he?  Mode. 
Nay, he must be unknown, until he know whether you will accept of him; but in truth, my Conscience bids me persuade you against him; indeed I would not have mentioned him, but that he will not let me rest, till I have  told you his desires.  Want. 
What manner of Man is he? and what Estate has he? and of what Qualitiy is he?  Mode. 
He is a Gentleman, and as for his Person, to speak truth, he is a very handsome man, as any is, but he is not worth a Denier, a very Shark for his living.  Want. 
I mary Sir, give me a Man that lives by his wits; for every Fool can tell how to live, if he be rich; besides, I had rather enjoy Beauty, then Wealth, with a Husband.  Mode. 
O, but that's not all, Madam; for he is a very deboist Man; he Drinks, and Whores, and Games.  Want. 
Marriage will reclaim him.  Mode. 
But he has got such a Habit of Debauchery, that 'tis to be feared, he will never be reclaimed.  Want. 
The truth of it is, I would choose a deboist Man for a Husband sooner then a Temperate Man; for his several Debaucheries will be my several Pastimes; besides, I shall have his Company but sometimes, which will make him appear to me fresh and new; whereas, a Stoical and Temperate Husband, will tyre me out with his continual Company, being always at home, or else he would restrain me with his Moral Discipline.  Mode. 
But there is another reason, that may dissuade you from him.  Want. 
What's that?  Mode. 
Why, 'tis said, he has the French Pox, and I believe you will not venture on that Disease.  Want. 
I am of so healthful a Constitution, I fear no Disease; besides, he is not a Courtly nor well-bred Man, that has not a spice of that Disease; and the truth is, I should account that Man uncivil, and not a Gentleman, but a mere dull Clown that were free thereof, and sound there-from; for the completest Gentlemen are ever under the Arrest of that Disease; wherefore, Sir, to release you of his importunity, tell him from me, I shall not refuse him, but willingly accept of him.  Mode. 
I shall Madam. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Wagtail, Self-conceit, and Wanton. Wagtail. 
LOrd! Self-conceit, I have not seen you never since the night before the last night!  Self. 
You might have seen me if you had been so kind as to come to my Lodging, for I lay a bed all yesterday, by reason I had a great many to come to Visit me, and they were Men of Quality.  Wagt. 
Faith, I could not come, by reason Monsieur Malicious was going over, to whom you know, I have entrusted all my affairs, so as I was dispatching some business with him.  Self. 
But I will never forgive my friend Wanton, that she would not come with the Lords and Gentlemen to visit me.  Wan. 
Faith, I could not come; for my Chamber-fellow and I, both of us, did bath yesterday, and there came in two or three Gentlemen whilst we were in the Bath, and stayed talking so long with us that I have catched could.  Self. 
Lord! did Madamoisel suppling Bath again yesterday! why she bathed but the day before; for a Gentleman  told me, that Madam Liberty was in the Bath, and when she went out, then she went into Madamoisel Supple's Bed to warm and dry her self, and Mr. Amorous entertained her whilst she lay there, and Madamoisel suppling, as soon as Madamoisel Liberty went out of the Bath, went into it; and by that time that Madamoisel Liberty rose out of the bed, Madamoisel suppling was ready to enter into it, and then Mr. Break-jest did entertain her with pleasant Discourses.  Want. 
Certainly, Bathing is very wholesome.  Self. 
But let me tell you, Wanton, that often Bathing weakens very much.  Exeunt Wanton and Self-conceit. Wagtail Sola, Enter to her Mode. Wagt. 
Monsieur Mode, I have watched for an opportunity to speak to you alone these two or three days.  Mode. 
To me, sweet Lady! what is it you would say?  Wagt. 
'Tis this; I hear you are acquainted with a Man, who is very rich and unmarried, and 'tis reported he will mary a Wife of your choosing; and Sir, I shall not be ungrateful, if you will choose me for his Wife.  Mode. 
'Tis true, I am acquainted with such a Man, who is very rich, but he is a very Fool; the truth is, the next degree to a Changeling.  Wagt. 
I like that the better, for so I may govern him and his Estate.  Mode. 
Nay, Lady, let me inform you, that though he be a Fool, yet he is a covetous and self-conceited Fool, neither to be ruled nor wrought upon, nor yet to be persuaded to any thing, but what he himself likes best.  Wagt. 
However Sir, I shall gain a respect and esteem in the World by the Reputation of his Wealth; wherefore, good Monsieur Mode, let me entreat you to prefer me to his good liking.  Mode. 
I shall do my endeavour, Lady.  Exit Wagtail. Enter Observer to Mode. Obs. 
The sailor is gone to Prison, and the Princess confined to her Chamber.  Mode. 
I am sorry for the Princess's restraint.  Exeunt.  

SCENE III.  Enter sailor as in a Prison, manacled with Chains. 
YOu heavenly Powers, do you her life secure,  
Though for her sake I torment must endure.  
shower blessings on her Life, and let her Name  
Be glorious to Posterity and famed:  
But I profane, thou art a deity;  
Wherefore my Prayers, I'll direct to thee:  
Thou Goddess know'st, what torments I do feel,  
My life is wracked upon ill-fortune's wheel.  
O! do not break my heart, thou heavenly Power,  
For 'tis thy own ideas onely Tower;  
For when I die, where will thy Mansion be?  
In every Heart and Head that thinks of thee:  
Then let me die in peace, for thou wilt reign  
In every Soul, as well as every Brain. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Jaylor and Fool. Fool. 
MAster. Jaylor?  jail. 
What say you, Mr. Fool?  Fool. 
Will you take a Fool's Counsel?  jail. 
No by my Faith.  Fool. 
Then by my Faith, I'll prove you a Fool; for my Counsel is, To let the sailor escape.  jail. 
So I shall be hanged myself.  Fool. 
That is uncertain; but if the sailor suffers, you are sure to be hanged.  jail. 
How so?  Fool. 
Why you know the Princess must be empress, because that Dignity comes by her Mother; and the Emperor is but Emperor during life, and so upon courtesy; and when the Princess is empress, she will be sure to hang you, and not only hang you, but ruin all your Posterity.  jail. 
Go, go, you talk like a Fool as you are! I will be an honest Jaylor, and not betray my Prisoners.  Fool. 
Not betray your Prisoners, say you! consider well, lest you betray yourself.  Exit Fool, jailer Solus. jail. 
This Fool has a notable Wit. Exit.   

SCENE V.  Enter Wanton, Wagtail, Self-conceit, and Quick-wit. Wanton. 
WHen did you see Monsieur Mode?  Wagt. 
I have not seen him these two days.  Self. 
Nor I.  Quick. 
Nor I.  Want. 
I fear he is sick.  Wagt. 
I hope in God, not.  Self. 
Pray heaven grant he be in health.  Quick. 
Amen; for he is one of the civillest persons I know.  Want. 
Indeed he is an obliging person.  Wagt. 
He is a gallant Man.  Self. 
The truth is, he has not his equal.  Enter Conversant. Conv. 
Ladies, what happy Man is he that you are praising.  Self. 
Why, Monsieur Mode?  Wagt. 
He is a Man that may be a Sample to all Men▪  Quick. 
There is none can parallel him.  Want. 
He is worth more then praise can give him.  Conv. 
He cannot choose but prosper in his Travels, when he is so highly praised by a Company of Beautiful Ladies.  Want. 
In his Travels! why whither is he gone?  Conv. 
Into Italy; and the Company he is gone with, went on such a sudden, as he had no time to come and kiss your hands, and take his leave; but he has sent me to make his excuse, and beg his pardon, although he could not help it, unless he should have lost those Conveniences he has by going in the Company of such as can speak the Language, which he cannot.  Quick. 
Pray speak no more of him, for it is no matter whither he is gone, since he has no more Civility.  Self. 
Never was there such an act done by a Gentleman, as to go not only out of the Town, but the Kingdom, and never take his leave of us.  Want. 
Faith, he has shown himself what he is, a Clown.  Wagt. 
A mere Booby.  Self. 
A Boor.  Quick. 
Indeed by his behaviour to us he seems not to be a Gentleman.  Want. 
One might have easily judged what he was, if any would have taken the pains to consider him.  Wagt. 
I despise such a man.  Self. 
I hate such a man.  Want. 
I abhor him.  Conv. 
Ladies, I perceive our Sex is very unhappy, for you will love and hate us in a minute, and praise and dispraise us in one breath.  Ladies. 
We have reason.  Enter Spend-all, Conversant, Observer, and the Ladies. Spend. 
Ladies I have asked the Princess leave, that you, Her Maids, should honour me with your Presence at my Marriage Feast.  Self. 
Are you Married?  Spend. 
Yes.  Quick. 
What fair Lady, have you Married?  Spend. 
Madam, my condition persuaded me to choose a fair Fortune, rather then a fair Face; but what she wants in Beauty, she has in age, I should have said in Wealth.  Quick. 
It is a sign her Age is in your mind, more then her Wealth, that your tongue was so ready to speak it.  Wagt. 
But if your Lady be old, we that are young, shall hardly be welcome.  Enter Mode. Want. 
Lord, Monsieur Mode, I thought you had been gone to travail.  Mode. 
No, that design is altered; for I intend now to stay, and mary a rich old Lady too.  Self. 
If all the young Gallants mary old Women, What shall we young Women do for Husbands?  Mode. 
It were great pity, and not to be suffered, that young Women should mary whilst their Beauty doth last; but they should live unmarried, to be Mistresses to command Men, and not made slaves to obey, as Wives are.  Quick. 
The best for young Women, is to mary ancient Men, for so we shall be virtuous Mistresses to wise men in a married condition and life.  Conv. 
But Lady, all the younger sort of Men, are not so necessitated through their lavish expenses, to mary for Riches; for I am not so vain, nor poor, but I may mary for Beauty, and not any Beauty pleaseth me so well as yours.  Quick. 
I had rather be married for my Wit, then for my Beauty.  Conv. 
That man is happy, Lady, that can have a Wife with both.  Self. 
This is just according to the Old Saying, That one Wedding makes two.  Obs. 
And if you please Madam, these two Weddings shall be the cause of a third.  Self. 
Let us see, how the married Couples agree first.  Mode. 
We will have no particular Wooing, but all shall be in common; otherwise, our meeting will be dull, and our mirth out of tune.  Want. 
You say right, Monsieur Mode, for the fiddle-string of Mirth will be broken; but let us go and rejoice with Mr. Spend-all, and dance and feast, as a Thanksgiving to Fortune for her favours to him.  Spend. 
The greatest favour that Fortune can give me, is, to be honoured with your Company; and if you please to led the way, the rest will follow.  Spend-all sighs. 
Ha! these Marriages spoil all Amorous Courtships.  Exeunt Omnes, each leading his Mistress.  

SCENE VI.  Enter Fool, and the sailor as in a Prison. Fool. 
MAster sailor, the Princess has sent to know of you, whether you be dead?  Sail. 
In her absence I am dead to all Happiness, for I have no joys of life.  Fool. 
Then I shall tell her you are dead.  Sail. 
You may tell her I am worse then dead; for I am miserable, wanting her Company, and misery is worse then death.  Fool. 
Pray God I remember all this; viz. Absence, Happiness, Joys, Life, Dead, Miserable, Misery, and Death. Exeunt.   

SCENE VII.  Enter Princess alone, Musing; Enter Fool to her. FOol. 
O Lady! Lady! the Sailer's dead.  She falls into a passion as distracted, then speaks. Prin. 
Make me a Ship to fail up high to heaven,  
Where I may swim through all the Planets Seven;  
Not to find Gold or Silver, such base dross,  
But my dear Love and Lover; which rich loss  
Is worth more then the World: Or, make a Boat,  
That I may through the dark Stygian float  
To the Elysium, there to meet my Dear,  
Where I shall neither State nor Father fear:  
Or else, you Gods, cast me so low and deep,  
Without a Dream I may for ever sleep.  The Fool Laughs. Fool. 
Ha, ha, ha, Dreams, Ships and Water has been your ruin.  Prin. 
You Villain, do you laugh at my misery?  She gives him a Box of the Ear. Fool. 
O, do not beat me, your Sailer's alive yet.  Prin. 
Did not you tell me he was dead?  Fool. 
Yes, but I did not tell you his Body is dead, but his Joys are dead.  Prin. 
Is he alive then?  Fool. 
He is alive, but talks as madly, I dare not say, as foolishly as you do. Exeunt.   

SCENE VIII.  A Scaffold and Block for one to be beheaded. Enter the Guard, Jaylor and Prisoner; as also a grave Man, as his Father; the People staring upon them. The Prisoner being upon the Scaffold, bows down gracefully to the Assembly, and then speaks thus. sailor. 
WOrthy Spectators, although I am a Stranger by Birth, yet I am as a Native, being a loving Subject, and humble servant of your sovereign the Princess; but Fortune which takes more delight in Variety, then Justice, has not only tossed me from Climate to Climate, and Nation to Nation, but from Happiness to Misery, from Misery to Happiness, and from Happiness to Misery again; and yet my life will end happily; for I shall be a Sacrifice on the Altar of Love, which is such an Honour, that not any worthy person would refuse or repined at; for all true Lovers will bear up my Hearse with Sighs, cover it with Tears, and entomb me in their Memory.  Upon this Speech the People begin to murmur; then the grave Man steps up and speaks. 
Worthy Spectators, This Person which is here ready to die for Love,( yet not for the Love you imagine) is no ways capable of Marrying your Princess; for this Person is not only a Woman, but a Princess her self; being Daughter to the Emperor of Persia, who for Love hath wilfully banished her self from her Father's Court and Empire: My Wife was her Governness, God rest her Soul; she being dead▪ and I her Guardian, did love this Princess as my own Child; and knowing her design was not to be altered, have attended her, both in her Disguise and Travels; but your Princess imagining her a Man, being in Mans Clothes, has unfortunately fallen in Love with her, which has been the cause both of our trouble and discovery: But I hope this Nation is more just then to murder an innocent Princess, that has not committed any fault either to the People or their sovereign.  The People Cry, 
Long live the Princess, remove her, and convey her to the Emperor.   

SCENE IX.  Enter Mr. Conversant and Observer, with Lady Quick-wit, and Self-conceit. Conversant. 
LOrd, they say, there's such a noise about the Place where the sailor should be executed, as it's feared there will be some mutiny or uproar amongst the People.  Quick. 
Faith, the Emperor would be justly served, if there were a Rebellion against him, so it might not be a danger to his Daughter.  Self. 
I did not believe the Princess would be so patient as she is.  Obs. 
O, the less anger she shows the more malice is enclosed.  Quick. 
She is too virtuous to bear malice to her Father.  Conv. 
But it is said, Love and Ambition know no Kindred.  Enter Mr. Mode. Mode. 
Ladies, yonder is the strangest accident that ever was.  Self. 
Lord! what strange accident?  Mode. 
The sailor is proved a Woman, and the Woman is proved a Princess, Daughter to the Persian Emperor.  Obs. 
What, has the Princess been in Love with a Woman?  Mode. 
Yes.  Quick. 
Pray, Monsieur Mode, tell us how she was known to be a Woman, and who made the discovery?  Mode. 
Why thus it was. When this Lady in Sailer's Clothes was mounted on the Scaffold, and had made a very witty Speech; there steps up an ancient Man, and made a Speech, wherein, he  told the People, She was a Woman, and Daughter to the Emperor of Persia, and that he was a Noble Man of Persia, who had travelled with her; for by reason his Wife, who was dead, had been Governess to the Lady, he having no Children, was as fond of the Princess, as if she had been his own Child; and seeing her pine away for Love, and her beloved gone, or rather banished the Empire, she resolving to follow him, and to endeavour to find him, and that all his persuasions could not prevail, he( although in years) did travail with her, to be both her Guide, counselor and Guardian. Whereupon, all the People shouted for Joy, and cried out, Carry her to the Emperor, Carry her to the Emperor; So both she and the old Man are carried before the Emperor, but what will be the Event, I cannot tell.  Self. 
For God's sake, Quick-wit, let us go to the Princess, and tell her this.  Quick. 
We shall not need, for she will have News of it before we come, and will be as sad that the sailor is a Woman, as if he had been hanged.  Enter Mr. Spend-all Spend. 
The sailor is proved a Woman.  Conv. 
That we have heard.  Spend. 
But you have not heard that she has been with the Emperor, and that he seems to be in Love with her in her Sailer's Clothes.  Obs. 
It would be a strange across Caper, if he should mary the sailor, for whom his Daughter was dying, and mad for love.  Spend. 
Certainly, he seemed strangely to alter with her Presence.  Self. 
Come Quick-wit, let us go and see how our Lady the Princess takes this.  Exeunt Ladies, Men Solus. Obs. 
But can the Emperor be so suddenly in Love?  Spend. 
Love makes no stay, nor takes Counsel.  Exeunt.  

SCENE X.  Enter Princess and the Ladies. Quick-wit. 
BUt Madam, can your Highness be well pleased, that the sailor is proved a Woman, and that the Emperor should love her so, as to profess, he will mary her if she agree?  Prin. 
Yes; for though the Emperor my Father was unjust to me, I cannot, nor never shall be undutiful to him.  Self. 
But is your Melancholy passion of Love past?  Prin. 
My Melancholy is past, but not my Love; for that will live so long as I shall live, and will remain pure in my Soul, when my body is dead and turned to dust.  Quick. 
Your Highness is a miracle of duty and constancy in Love, although the last is but a Dream.  Prin. 
Many Dreams are Prophetical. Exeunt.    

ACT V.  

SCENE I.  Enter the Mother of the Maids, Enter also Mr. Mode and Spend-all. Spend-all. 
HAve you heard the News?  Mode. 
What News?  Spend. 
Why, the sailor that was a Man, and the Man that was proved a Lady, and the Lady a Princess, is now proved no Lady, but is a Man again, and a sailor.  Moth. 
How so?  Spend. 
How so? why even as the Man that could change himself into a Wolf, and from a Wolf into a Man again; so the sailor has the art to make himself a Man, or Woman when he pleases.  Mode. 
I would he could teach all the Court this art.  Moth. 
The gods forbid; for if all you Gentlemen should be Women, what would my pretty birds do for Courtly Servants.  Spend. 
Why, they might convert themselves into Men, and then there would be a better agreement amongst us; for when we are Women, we shall be kinder to them, when they are Men, then they are to us now they are Women.  Mode. 
But what would your old Lady do, if you were a Woman?  Spend. 
Faith, as well as she doth now.  Mode. 
But let us leave our talking, and go to the sailor, to learn this Art.   

SCENE II.  Enter the Princess and the sailor in a princes Habit, Enter also the Fool. sailor. 
MY sweet and dear Mistress, what will you do?  
Shall I have no fruition, but still woe?  Prin. 
My noble Love and Servant give me leave,  
That I in sport my Father may deceive.  Fool. 
God's-body, in the time you deceive your Father, you deceive yourself; for he will take his pleasure before you.  Sail. 
Madam, the Fool speaks truth.  Prin. 
Yes, according to appetite, but not according to chast love.  Fool. 
Lady, you speak extravagantly, talking of Chast Love, when as never Lover was Chast, for they commit Adultery either in Mind or Body.  Prin. 
I will have you whipped, if you disgrace pure Love with the name of Adultery.  Fool. 
You are not a fit Judge, being a Woman; but I will have the Prince my Judge: Sir, do not I deserve a reward for all my good service, had you been so as you are, had not I played my part?  Sail. 
I grant it, and will pled in your behalf.  Prin. 
I speak not against your good service, but your foolish arguments.  Fool. 
They are doubly wise that can speak well, and do well; but now I will give you politic Counsel: But first, you must give me Lands; secondly, Moneys; thirdly, you must give me a great Office; and lastly, you must make me a great Lord.  Prin. 
A great Fool, you mean.  Fool. 
I am that without your making.  Prin. 
But where is the politic Counsel you would give me?  Fool. 
I mary, there is the business; the Counsel is, That first the Prince must declare himself, then you may mary, and then whining Love will abate, and then with God's blessing you may soon come to disagree.  Prin. 
And you are a Knave truly.  Sail. 
Mistress, I do approve of the Fool's Counsel, as to make myself known to the Emperor; but the way or manner how, is not considered as yet.  Fool. 
I have thought of that too, for your Twin-Sister who is as like you as a Pea to a Pea,( whom with my rhetoric I got the Jaylor to take your place and habit in prison) is now the Emperor's admired Mistress, and he dotes as much on her, as the Princess on you; and if you discover yourself to the Emperor, he would be a joyful Man, for now he is afraid to mary, fearing to displease the Princess; but hoping the Princess will consent to his Marriage if he consent to hers, it will make an even case, and both will be pleased.  Sail. 
Well Fool, for once your Counsel shall take place.   

SCENE III.  Enter Mother of the Maids, Lady Quick-wit, and Self-conceit. Mother. 
WEll, Ladies, you 're obliged to me.  Quick. 
For what?  Moth. 
For speaking a good word to your Lovers, Mr. Conversant, and Mr. Observer; for if it had not been for me, they would not have Married you.  Self. 
You speak in our behalf! why, you cannot speak two words of sense in any Cause.  Quick. 
If you have such a powerful persuasion, why do not you get your other Daughters, Wanton and Wagtail, Husbands?  Moth. 
Why so, I shall when their Lovers Wives are dead, and in the mean time they please themselves.  Enter Conversant and Observer. Quick. 
Servant, the Mother says, that her rhetoric and Friendship hath persuaded you to mary us.  Conv. 
Your Merit, not her rhetoric or Friendship, could prevail with us.  Obs. 
Faith, Mother, your rhetoric would rather lose a Cause, then obtain a svit.  Enter Wanton. Want. 
Do you hear the News?  Quick. 
What News?  Want. 
Why, the sailor is proved a Prince.  Self. 
What Prince?  Want. 
The Emperor of Persia's younger Son, who was stolen away by a Noble Man of Persia, with his Sister, they being both Twins, and the Emperor being fond of this Son, his elder Son( this princes Brother) designed to destroy him; which the Noble Man perceiving, put himself and the two Princes to the trust of a Master of a Ship of this Empire, and disguised them both as sailors; and when the Prince was to be beheaded, the Fool did corrupt the Jaylor to take the Sister in the Room of her Brother, and by that means they were both saved.  Enter Wagtail. Wagt. 
There's such Mirth and Joy with the Emperor and Princess, as never was the like, through the mistake between the Prince, and the Princess his Sister.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
Gentlemen and Ladies, you must all prepare for the solemnity of the Marriage of the Prince of Persia, and our Princess.  Conv. 
Doth not the Emperor mary the Princess of Persia?  Gent. 
Yes, but that Marriage will be more private.  converse. 
Then Ladies, it will be our Duties, if the Emperor and the Princess will give leave, That we accompany the Prince and Princess Bridals, with ours.  Self. 
I shall agree.  Quick. 
And so shall I.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Fool and his Love. Fool. 
COme, the Princess has given leave, that we shall mary when she Marries; but you must wash your face and hands very clean.  Maid. 
But washing will not make them white.  Fool. 
That is true; for water or any thing else cannot change their Natural Colour, but a pair of white Gloves will hid your black hands, and a Mask will hid your foul Face; for you shall appear at the Wedding as a Mascarado.  Maid. 
O the Lord! I shall fright the Princess.  Fool. 
I pray God you do not fright me, and 'tis no matter for frighting the Princess, for she has been used to be frighted of late days. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter Princess as a Bride, and the Prince as a Bridegroom sitting under a State. Enter also Conversant and Quick-wit, Observer and Self-conceit, as Brides and Bridegrooms, and all the rest of the Court. Then the Prince, and Princess and the rest of the Company, dance a Ball after the French fashion; and after this there is an Anti-Mask presented to the Prince and Princess.   

SCENES.  
THese Scenes were designed to be put into the Presence; but by reason I found they would make that Play too long, I thought it requisite to Print them by themselves.  

SCENE I.  Enter Mr. Buyer, and Mr. Seller. SELLER. 
Will you buy my Ward?  Buy. 
Yes, if you will take a reasonable sum: but having cut down all his Woods, dissolved all the Iron ston, digged deep in his Coal-pits, and led, and Copper Mines, let Leases of his Lands, ploughed all his Meadows, Pastures, and Parks; to ask Twenty thousand pounds, is unconscionable!  Sell. 
Come, come, you will find enough in the Estate to make it worth your Money, if you should do no other thing then sow or plant Ode; and when you have made the best of his Estate, you may have a good sum of Money for his Marriage.  Buy. 
Well, I will venture; you shall have Twenty thousand pounds Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Mr. Underward, and Diogenes his Man. Diogenes. 
SIR, so soon as your Father's breath was out of his body, you were begged, and now you are sold.  Under. 
Who hath bought me?  Diog. 
Faith, a Man that looks as if he would search into your Estate.  Under. 
I believe he will find it faint and weak.  Diog. 
That little strength it hath, he will fetch out, I warrant you. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter two man-servants, viz. Diogenes and another. Man. 
I Hear thy Master is Married.  Diog. 
Yes, the more is the pity.  Man. 
What kind of Woman is she, he hath Married?  Diog. 
You might have asked what kind of Beast she is.  Man. 
Why, is she so Homely?  Diog. 
She is so ugly.  Man. 
How doth your Master behave himself to her?  Diog. 
As a young Man should do, never comes near her; and hates not only the sight of her, but all those that have seen her.  Man. 
Why, then he should hate thee.  Diog. 
Faith, he loves me the worse for it.  Man. 
Is he not Melancholy?  Diog. 
He hath been; but he finds that Melancholy will not mend his ruined Fortune, but that it will help to make it worse; besides, it impairs his Health, and torments his Mind; wherefore, he hath cast off all grief, care and sorrow, and intends to let Nature loose, and please himself, as much as his small Estate will give way to.  Mode. 
You may grow rich, if your Master grows deboist.  Diog. 
'Tis true, all Servants thrive best with deboist Masters; but they must have Riches answerable to their Debauchery, or else their Servants will sooner get a Rope to hang them, then an Estate to maintain them; because all Debauchery is expensive; and if their Masters have nothing of their own to spend, their Debauchery must be maintained at the charge of others, and not of their own; and few will give an allowance for Debauchery; wherefore, they must either shirk, cousin, ot rob to maintain their Riots.  Man. 
But thy Master hath all his Lands still; his Guardian could not take them away.  Diog. 
No, but they have taken out the heart of his Lands; for they will produce nothing but brakes and briars, moss and ling; and if any be good, as I believe there is none, it must be sold to pay Debts, which his Father left to be paid, and Portions to younger Children.  Man. 
I doubt they will come short of their expectation.  Diog. 
So short, as to have nothing. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Mother, and Lady Bashful. Mother. 
I Wonder you should be so Bashful as to make all the Court believe you are a kind of a Changeling, and a simplo Fool!  Bash. 
Why, how do I behave myself? I neither behave myself immodestly, nor uncivilly.  Moth. 
Nay, I am not by to see you; but I am  told you stand amongst Company like a ston Statue, without life, sense or motion.  Bash. 
'Tis true, I do not hang upon Mens shoulders, nor lean upon their breasts, nor suffer myself to be embraced in Mens arms; neither do I jump to sit upon the Tables, nor lye wantonly upon the Carpets on the ground, nor run about after a wild manner, pinching one, shoving another, pulling a third, embracing a fourth, dancing a piece of a dance with a fifth; nor do I make mouths upon one Man, then wink my eye upon another, giving my hand unto a third Man to kiss.  Moth. 
Why, you are thought so simplo, as that you cannot speak three words of sense.  Bash. 
I had rather be thought a Fool for saying nothing, then be proved a Fool for speaking nonsense; and of the two evils, it were better to be a silent Fool, then a prating Fool; I am sure the silent Fool will offend the least; but for my part, I cannot perceive any great store of Wit that there is amongst them, unless it be Wit to sing Quaveringly, and talk loud, or to rail under the privilege of Rallery, or to be a Buffoon to cause ridiculous Laughter; or to talk impudently or wantonly; but the truth is, that some think themselves Politicians, and talk of State-affairs, yet understand no more of Government then the post, but would make the Common-wealth like their Chambers, where every thing is out of order, and what they are to use, they are always to seek; they would have no decent Orders, nor strict Laws, but that every one might do what they like best; nor would they have Watches set, unless it were to guard Vices, loose Carriages, and wanton dalliances; and others, which think to prove themselves Wits, dispute of Love and Honour, and the Conversations of Souls, and before their Disputes are ended, they draw themselves quiter from their Principle, into a dark Labyrinth of nonsense, then run about with senseless words until they be out of breath, which makes them at last hold their peace.  Moth. 
But I would have them know, you are not a Fool.  Bash. 
Why, if they should think me a Wit, although I were none, it would increase their envy, and so they might make scandalous reports, which I perceive they are apt to do of one another; whereas now their opinion of my ignorant simplicity satisfies their spite.  Moth. 
What came you to Court for, only to be thought a Fool?  Bash. 
No, I came to learn Wisdom, and to improve my Understanding; and if I can meet no virtue, Worth, nor Honour to take Examples from, yet I may observe the Follies, so as to shun them where or whensoever I meet them; and though ignorance is thought a defect, either in Nature, or Breeding, yet it is not accounted a crime, nor a deadly sin; and as long as they cannot think by my Carriage I am base, wanton, or wicked, I do not care how they think of my Wit or Bashfulness. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter Monsieur Underward and Diogenes his Man. Diogenes. 
SIR, here was a Gentlewoman to visit your Worship to day.  Under. 
I am glad I was abroad.  Diog. 
I wonder your Worship is not rather sorry you were abroad, because you missed her Company.  Under. 
Therefore, I am glad, because I would not have her Company.  Diog. 
Many Gentlemen spend most of their time to compass the Company of fair Ladies, and you strive to shun them.  Under. 
Faith, I have taken a surfeit of the Sex, and now I wonder how rational Men can spend the most part of their life in foolish compliments, false Praises, and Amorous embraces, abjecting their thoughts, when they might be elevated to a Speculation as high as the upper Region, where they might be illuminated by the Sun of Knowledge, from whence are spread beams of Understanding, by which are produced profitable Arts, and beneficial Sciences, delightful Fancies, and wise Prudence; besides, their life might be employed in heroic actions, whereby they might get an Honourable renown, and not Female Dalliances; might conquer Nations, not betray simplo Women; and might govern Worlds, not let foolish Women govern them; Thus Men might be like gods, and being Amorous, they become like Beasts. Exit.  Diog. 
He thought the Females, Angels, a day since, and perhaps will think them so again a day hence.  Enter Monsieur Underward, his two Brothers, and two Sisters. Under. 
Brothers and Sisters, you are welcome.  Sist. 
We are come to complain, for if we cannot have our Portions, how shall we live?  Under. 
How shall you live! why Sisters you may live by your Natural Gifts.  Sist. 
What are those?  Under. 
Your Youth, Beauty, and Wit.  Sist. 
Alas Brother, those will gain us nothing, so long as we are poor.  Under. 
No, but they will gain you something, if you turn Whores, or trade as the Venetian courtesans, who make by those Gifts a great Revenue.  Sist. 
Heaven bless us Brother! would you have our Misfortune the cause of our Infamy?  Under. 
Heaven hath blessed very few from it, for Misfortunes in this Age are accounted the greatest crimes.  Sist. 
They may be accounted Crimes, but we will not make them so; for though unconscionable Men have ruined our Estate, and caused us to be poor, yet we will never defame our Ancestors.  Under. 
I believe you will when necessity importunes you, Flattery persuades you, Gallantry allures you, Title entices you, and Power commands you.  Sist. 
No, no, Brother, we have two Antidotes against them, which will secure us against those Infections.  Under. 
What Antidotes?  Sist. 
Religion and Honour.  Under. 
I doubt your Antidotes will be too weak.  Broth. 
And how shall we live Brother?  Under. 
mary, Brothers, you must live by your good Qualities.  Broth. 
What are those good Qualities?  Under. 
Why, to be industrious Pimps, nimble Pick-pockets, cheating Shirks, and courageous Robbers.  Broth. 
These Qualities are base, and will sooner bring us to the Gallows, then any way enrich us.  Under. 
Why, the Gallows were a good Fortune; for when you are hanged, you will have no use for Riches, and it will end all your miseries.  Broth. 
But Hanging is a death which is only inflicted upon unworthy persons for doing the basest acts.  Under. 
Death is all one, although the ways be various.  Broth. 
But famed and infamy is not all one.  Under. 
That is as pleases Fortune or Chance; for many times the most wicked, base, and unworthiest persons live with as great renown, as the most pious, virtuous and honourable; nay, many times the worst are Deified, and the best vilified; but Brothers and Sisters, to speak seriously to you, I have nothing to give you but my Counsel; for the Land my Father left, is entailed, so as I cannot sell an acre of it, and it is so impoverished and out of heart, as it will yield no profit; nor can I Mortgage it, for none will venture their Money on it; and I am not only ruined in my Estate, but by Marriage, Marrying a Wife which I was forced to take without Portion, my Guardian possessing that Portion she had, and I only her ill-favoured body, and ill-natured mind; the one displeasing my sences, the other disquieting my life. Thus, although you complain, yet 'tis I who suffer most, and am forced to be content; and since it is not in my power to help you, let me advice you; As for you my two Sisters, get into some honourable service; for though you were born and bread to command, yet your poverty must make you practise to obey: Wherefore, be humble to your Mistresses, diligent in your Offices, faithful to your trust, constant to virtue, and pious to Heaven, and the gods will reward you with good Husbands, who will love you, defend you, and provide for you: And as for you, my two Brothers, go to the Wars, and be Soldiers, it is an honourable Profession, and only fit for Gentlemen; and what esteem and respect you are likely to lose by your poverty, let your gallant actions advance; improve your Fortunes by your Valour, and let Honour be the ground upon which you build.  Broth. 
But if we be lame in the Wars, what shall we do then?  Under. 
Why, then you must beg upon Crutches; for States do as many particular persons do, which is, when they have had the service, forget the reward; for though States are commonly so charitable, or rather politic, to make Wars to employ busy Natures, and to maintain younger Brothers, and Sons of Noble Families, which have small Fortunes, lest they should grow factious, and become mutinous through poverty; yet when they are made uncapable of doing either good or harm by their wounds and hurts, they have received in their Service, they take no care how they shall be disposed of, nor what misery they are exposed to; yet this must not retard a Gentleman, for it is more Honour to beg with their wounds got in their Country's service, then to live in base luxury; for famed is not gotten by Sloth, nor Honour maintained by Riot.  Exeunt Brothers and Sisters.  

SCENE VI.  Enter Diogenes to his Master. Monsieur Underward. 
WHere have you been, that you are out of the way when I should employ you?  Diog. 
Sir, my Lady sent for me.  Under. 
For what?  Diog. 
To examine me what Mistress you had; also, she  told me, that if you would not use her as a Wife, she would make use of some other Man as a Husband.  Under. 
Surely I am out of danger of being a cuckolded, for she is so ill-favoured, no Man will come near her.  Diog. 
Pardon me Sir; for if she hath not Beauty to enamour Lovers, yet she may buy Lovers.  Under. 
Her ill-favouredness is beyond all covetousness.  Diog. 
O no Sir! for were she the Devil, she may be embraced for Money.  Under. 
Not under a vast sum.  Diog. 
Yes faith, Sir, there are Men of all prices, as there are Women, even from the two-peny Whore to the thousand pound Lady; so poor and needy Shirks are at a low price, when a flattering Gallant must be maintained at a high rate.  Under. 
Why then, Tom, there is no assurance of the Female Sex, whether they be homely, ugly, handsome, beautiful, young, or old, unless Poverty be joined with Deformity.  Diog. 
Nay, faith Sir, those that will be Whores, will make a shift to get a Knave some way or other, be they never so poor, or old, ill-favoured, or deformed.  Exeunt.  

SCENE VII.  Enter Two Gentlemen First Gentleman. 
FAith, the Lady Bashful is a mute Wit.  2 Gent. laughs. 
Ha, ha, ha, how can that be! is it possible to be a mute Wit?  1 Gent. 
Why, Wit lies in the brain, and not in the tongue; for the hand as often expresseth Wit in the working of Arts, as the Tongue by discoursing; and an ingenious Art is as good a Copy of Wit, as Verses, or Prose, and shows as much Fancy.  2 Gent. 
So you will make a shoemaker as good a Wit as a Poet.  1 Gent. 
No; yet he that invented shoes first, expressed as much Wit, as he that invents a Tale, or a Romance, or makes a Copy of Verses; besides, Arts are to be valued according to the use, or Curiosity, as Tales, Romances, Simulizing, Descriptions, distinguishing Fancy, Numbers, rhymes, Language, significant Words, and good Sense; so for Arts in their subtle contrivances, curious workings, neat joinings and interlayings, well tempering, equal matching, and smooth pollishing: But howsoever, she is a mute Courtier, because all Courtiers are full of talk, and she speaks seldom, and what she says, is to purpose; when the rest, for the most part, neither speak truth, sense, or reason; for Flattery is dissembling, and compliments are vain, idle and senseless. Exeunt.   

SCENE VIII.  Enter Madam Civility, and the Lord Loyalty, as at her House. Lord Loyalty. 
MAdam, when were you at Court?  Civil. 
Not this Week, my Lord.  Loyal. 
Are not you acquainted with Madam Bashful?  Civil. 
Yes, very well, my Lord; and she comes often to visit me, which I take for a great favour, by reason she is so reserved.  Loyal. 
By Jupiter, she hath a great Wit, although all the Court say she is a Fool.  Civil. 
O, my Lord, whosoever says, she is a Fool, is much mistaken, and knows her not; but she is Bashful, which makes her not seem what she is, by reason she cannot express her self, being out of Countenance.  Loyal. 
Faith, if you will have my opinion, I think she is crafty, and will not express her self to idle persons; but pray Madam, when she comes to see you, let me have notice of it.  Civil. 
I shall, my Lord. Exeunt.   

SCENE IX.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and Tom Diogenes his Man, his Master shows him Gold. Monsieur Underward. 
LOok here, Tom! here is Five hundred pounds I have won at Dice and Cards!  Tom. 
I mary Sir, if your Worship could win as much every day, you would become, in a short time, a rich Man again.  Under. 
I had rather be poor, then be rich by such base unmanly ways.  Tom. 
Why Sir? it is lawful gain, if you won it fairly.  Under. 
I will tell thee Tom, Gamesters are only Fortune's Pick-pockets, and Cut-purses, mere Cheats; for they neither win their Winnings by Industry nor Merit, but by Fortune's power, which unjustly gives her Favourites leave, nay authorize them to plunder all they can lay hands on, without any conscience or remorse; but had they been subject to Pallas, they would have been hanged, drawn and quartered; for Temperance would have accused them, and Prudence would have pleaded against them, Justice condemned them, and Fortitude have them executed; or had they lived in Honours Court, Right and Truth would have disgraced them, Courteous Civility despised them, Gratitude exclaimed against them, Honourable Industry scorned them, heroic Courage have fought against them, Noble Hospitality refused to entertain them, and Royal Generosity banished them; and they never can get near a good heart, and a well tempered brain, for the Muses and the Graces abhor them, and make out-works against them; for Reason and tranquillity cast up Trenches to keep them out, and judgement stands a sentinel to discover them, lest they should approach unawares; and Understanding commands the Guard, will keep the Postern-door, and Peace governs the Fort, so as no Gamester can enter.  Tom. 
Your Worship may condemn the way you got your Money by; but I hope your Worship will not condemn the Gold you won.  Under. 
Why, Tom, it hath neither sense nor life.  Tom. 
And it please your Worship, it puts life into those that have it, and it runs as nimbly about, as if it were a living Creature; and I believe you will find it so active, as that your Worship will scarce hold it.  Under. 
No, but Tom, I will direct it.  Tom. 
Which of your Sences shall direct it?  Under. 
Why, none of my Sences; for it shall be directed by my Reason.  Tom. 
Your Worships Reason makes no use of it, but your Appetite.  Under. 
Why, Tom, Reason lives in Appetite.  Tom. 
Very seldom; for the chief Rulers are Excess and Riot, Reason comes but as a Bishop goeth round his diocese, once in his life time, but many times never.  Under. 
Tom, you are better acquainted with the brutes then I; but understand the Vices of the Sences best.  Tom. 
Say not Vices, Sir, but the Natural Qualities; for there is no 'vice in Nature.  Under. 
Yes, that is a 'vice in Nature, that destroys, especially that which displeases; indeed the Vices in Nature are Defects of Defects; and grievances and pains are caused by Imperfections, and Dislikes by Defects; and whosoever gives himself over to Sensuality, hath an Imperfection in the Soul, and a Defect in the Understanding.  Tom. 
Your Worship speaks as if you were fallen out with the Ladies Sences, or rather as if you did hate them.  Under. 
Why, Tom, the Sences are Witches, very Sorcerers, which enchant the Life in the Castle of troublesone vexation, or metamorphize Men into Beasts.  Exeunt.  

SCENE X.  Enter the Lord Loyalty, and Madamoisel Bashful, as to Madamoisel Civility's House. Lord Loyalty. 
SWeet, will you Entertain me for your Servant?  Bash. 
I am not rich enough in Merit to Entertain one of your Worth.  Loyal. 
I will trust your Merit, and serve you for your Love.  Bash. 
My Love is Childish, and hath not wit to choose, nor strength to stand on constant ground; but totters, and staggers at every small dislike.  Loyal. 
I will serve your Youth and Beauty.  Bash. 
Your Lordship I doubt will have but a dull and troublesone Service; for Beauty without Wit, is no more then a Marble Statue; and Youth without Discretion, is so wild, as it will weary you to run after its Follies, or correct its Errors.  Loyal. 
Then let me serve your Wit.  Bash. 
That is so Fantastical, and changes into so many shapes, and various Dresses, as it will tyre your Ears to listen after it, and your Patience will not endure to keep it Company; for Wit without judgement to order it, is more offensive, then pleasing or delightful.  Loyal. 
Are you so civil, as neither to let me serve your Virtue, Love, Youth, Beauty or Wit? yet all your rhetoric shall not turn me off; for I will serve you, although it be against your will, for I never knew any Lady as yet, but loved Variety of Servants, to show their Power by their Tyranny.  Enter Madamoisel Ill-favoured, and finds them together. Ill-fav. 
I'faith, my Lord, have I found your Lordship out! I perceive you will choose the youngest and fairest.  Loyal. 
I should else condemn my judgement, Madam.  Ill-fav. 
My Lord, there is an old saying, Fair and Foolish.  Loyal. 
If you mean by Fair being Beautiful, then Fair is Wit, good Nature, sweet Dispositions, rare Qualities, for all good Delights and Pleasures dwell with Beauty.  Ill-fav. 
O fie, my Lord! can the Delight of one sense feed all the rest?  Loyal. 
No; for the Mind hath no true taste but when it feeds but of one sense at a time; for mixed Sences make imperfect Pleasures; besides, they are as troublesone as much company to a retired life; for much Company rather makes a Disorder, then a Recreation; a Confusion then a Society.  Ill-fav. 
But doth your Lordship think so?  Loyal. 
Nay, Madam, I will not dispute with your ladyship here, I will wait upon you at your Lodgings, and dispute with you there.  Exit the Lord Loyalty, and as he goeth out, meets Madamoisel spiteful. spite. 
Your Lordship's Servant.  Loyal. 
I am yours, Madam.  Exit Lord Loyalty. Ill-fav. 
Oh Madam! here I found the Lord Loyalty and Madamoisel Bashful talking seriously!  spite. 
Fie, sweet-heart, fie; it is not fit, or handsome, that you should be abroad without the Mother of the Maids, walking with a Man alone, and out of the Court, 'tis a shane; and let me tell you, that if the empress should know of it, she would be very angry.  Exit Madamoisel Bashful, without speaking a Word. Ill-fav. 
Nay, faith, I dare answer for her talking; for on my Conscience she did not speak three words; nor can she speak twenty in order; and I dare swear she understands not all the Letters in the Cris-cross-row.  spite. 
I suppose her Mother sent her to the Court, to learn to discourse, and to refine her behaviour, and to elevate her Spirit.  Ill-fav. 
Faith, she is the dullest Creature, of a young one, that ever I met with.  spite. 
Time and Practise will improve her; and truly it were a Charity to instruct her.  Ill-fav. 
I would not be she that should take that pains, for all the World: But where is Madamoisel Civility? let us go and seek her out. Exeunt.   

SCENE XI.  Enter Madamoisel controversy, and another ancient Court-Lady. Mad. controversy. 
I Do not conceive Madamoisel Bashful to be so handsome, as to be admired for a Beauty; yet most of the Men seem to like her best.  Lady. 
All Men love that which is most unusual; for she being so dull a young Lady, as not to delight in speaking, makes her to be a singular Creature here, by reason all the rest speak so much.  Controv. 
As dull as she seems, I believe she is more subtle and crafty then the rest. Exeunt.   

SCENE XII.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and Tom Diogenes his Man. Monsieur Underward. 
I Am so troubled with the Five hundred pounds I won at Play, I know not how to dispose of them.  T. Diog. 
I can tell your Worship how you may dispose of them, if you please.  Under. 
How, Tom?  T. Diog. 
Why, your Worship may give it me.  Under. 
You must deserve it first, or else it would be a Prodigality to give beyond the Receiver's Merit.  T. Diog. 
It would be a Charity, Sir.  Under. 
No, Tom, it would prove a vanity to bestow beyond a necessity; and as long as thou hast Meat, Drink, Clothes and Lodging, thou needest not, having neither Wife nor Children to provide for.  T. Diog. 
I desire it, out of an humble duty and service which I owe your Worship, to release you of that trouble, and to take off the heavy weight of Five hundred pounds; but I perceive your Worship doth by these Five hundred pounds, as Statesmen, and great Officers at Court, who are always complaining of overmuch business and attendance, and make as if it were the greatest affliction in the World to be so tormented, and yet would as soon die as part with their places, nay most commonly they do die with grief, or at least live in discontent, all the time they live, if they chance to be put out and another put in their places.  Under. 
Now thou talkest of Offices, I will buy an Office at Court with my Money; for Money won at Play, is best bestowed at Court; for Vanity and 'vice is near a kin, and hold the longest Friendship; and though I visit the Court sometimes, yet I have no Office.  T. Diog. 
But, and it please your Worship, Five hundred pounds will buy but a mean Office, or Place at Court; for they hold their prizes high, although the gains be but small; and here at Court, not only the Honour of the place is prized, but every proud Look and fantastical Garb, bawling Words, bold fronts, or Courtly Oaths, are all prized and paid for, to the uttermost farthing.  Under. 
Well, Tom, I will make my bargain as well as I can; but an Office I am resolved to have.  T. Diog. 
If your Worship were a bachelor, to be an Officer in Court, might do you some service; but as you are a Married Man, I cannot perceive it will benefit you much.  Under. 
Why, not a Married Man, as well as a bachelor?  T. Diog. 
O Sir, a Court-Officer sounds loud; and is conceived to be noble in the Ears and Mind of a young City-Virgin; and likewise with City-Widows; but with Countrey-Ladies, Court-Officers seem as gods, and they have not power to deny them any request; so that a Court-Officer may get a young Heir, or a rich Widow, if he were a bachelor; but being a Married Man, he will be only feasted, or probably, may obtain some private Meetings, or the like, which for the most part is to the Courtiers loss, those private Meetings being most commonly devilish chargeable.  Under. 
Well, I will try my Fortune; who can tell but that the Emperor may look graciously on me, and make me a Favourite, when I am an Officer?  T. Diog. 
He may look on you with a gracious eye; but I doubt your Worship will never be made a Favourite.  Under. 
Why, Tom, as mean-deserving Men as I, have been made Favourites.  T. Diog. 
The more is the pity, Sir, that great Monarchs which sit at the Helm, and govern a Kingdom, should have so weak a judgement, or such depraved affections, as to place their chief Favours on a worthless Subject.  Under. 
Why, you Rogue, do you think me a worthless subject?  T. Diog. 
No, Sir; I speak when Men of mean abilities are made Favourites; but by your favour, Sir, your Worship may be a very deserving person in yourself, and a fit Man for some kind of Places, Offices, or Employments, and yet not fit to be a Favourite; for a Favourite must not only be Honourably born, Nobly bread, and of a Rich Inheritance, to keep off Envy; but he must be sweetly disposed; civilly behaved; also of a pleasing Speech, a generous Nature, a free Mind, and a bountiful hand, to get Love; likewise, he must have an unspoted Reputation, a just Word, upright Actions, and an heroic Spirit to win Credit; also, he must have a prudent eye, a deep judgement to spy out his Enemies, and discern his true Friends, if Favourites can have true Friends; besides, he must have undaunted Courage to defend himself against mischievous spite, and malicious envy; and a strong party, to march and pass through opposers; he must also have a ready Wit, and be ingenious in Contrivances, and politic Inventions, with an industrious dispatch; also, he must have an oiled Tongue, both to speak for his Prince, and to his Prince, for himself and his affairs: Lastly, he must be so wise as to receive his Princes Commands with a dutiful respect, and present his own Counsels or advice with an humble demeanour, and an insinuating Countenance; and when he is to pled a svit, he must do it as if it were a bounty and a Royal favour to grant it, although it were an injustice to deny it: And whosoever is not thus, and doth not act thus, is not fit to be a Favourite; neither can a Favourite hold fast with the people, nor stand sure with his Prince.  Under. 
Nay faith, you should have joined Fortune to be his Friend, or else your Favourite will fall; and it is most often seen, that a Fool hath the best Fortune; besides, if any Man were so excellent a person, as you would have a Favourite, the Prince would fear him, lest he might usurp his power; or the People would hate him for his Worth and Merit; for they love nothing in perfection: But if any Man could practise as well as speak, thou wert the only fit Man to be a Favourite. But Tom, tell me how comest thou to speak so wisely?  T. Diog. 
O Master, although your Worship hath a better Natural Wit, then I; yet being old, I have more experience then you; for Time and Experience is the Father and Mother of Wisdom.  Under. 
Well, Tom, for all your wise discourse, I will try my Fortune at Court.  T. Diog. 
But Sir, I wonder your Worship should desire to be a Court-Officer, since you have been ruined and undone by Courtiers.  Under. 
The fitter I am to be one, to ruin another, as they have ruined me. Exeunt.   

SCENE XIII.  Enter the Lord Loyalty and Madamoisel Bashful, as in Madamoisel Civilities House. Lord Loyalty. 
DO you say, you can love an unfortunate Man?  Bash. 
Yes, so his Misfortunes come not through his Crimes.  Loyal. 
Misfortune's are thought Crimes, and are oftener shunned then Crimes are; for most part of the World is so base, that unto Criminal Powers they will crouch, creep, flatter, and sell their Liberties to them, when they will exclaim against honest Misfortunes, and fly from, or else will pursue them unto death, and then triumph over their Graves; besides, the World will wonder that you that are young and fair, should choose an unfortunate Man for a Husband.  Bash. 
My Lord, Misfortunes and Honesty in this Age, are so fixed to each other, as I cannot choose one, but I must take both.  Loyal. 
Can you love so well, as to be ruined for my sake?  Bash. 
If you call Poverty ruin, when it's taken up for Merit sake, I could be well content to entertain it, and should glory in the acquaintance, and be proud of the fellowship.  Loyal. 
Why then, we will never dispute of it further, but mary as soon as Conveniency will give us leave.  Exeunt.  

SCENE XIV.  Enter Madam Ill-favoured, Madam spiteful, Madam Wagtail, and Madam Ill-natured. Wagtail. 
HOw shall we do to break the Marriage?  spite. 
Thus, you Wagtail may speak to some of the Bed-Chamber of the empress, and tell them as a Secret, that the Lord Loyalty will for certain mary Madamoisel Bashful, and they will be so envious, especially Madamoisel Bragadocia, and Madamoisel Relax, as they will do there endeavour with the empress, to get her to break it.  Ill-fav. 
And I will speak to some friends of mine to that purpose.  spite. 
And I will sand Monsieur Malicious, to tell the Lord Loyalty that she sits up as late as any of us, and and that she hath as much Company of Men late in her Chamber, as any of the Maids have.  Wagt. 
But that is known to the contrary.  spite. 
Pish, Men are apt to be jealous of the Mistresses they intend to mary; and jealousy will believe any thing; also let us employ Tell-Tale.  Ill-natured. 
No faith, if she should know our design, she will do us more hurt then our design good, by telling it; for she can conceal nothing, she cannot keep a Secret, if she should die for declaring it, for when she knows any thing, that she thinks is not generally known, she runs from Lodging to Lodging to spread it abroad.  Exeunt.  

SCENE XV.  Enter Madamoisel Bashful, and Madam Civility. Mad. Civility. 
O Madamoisel Bashful, here hath been five or six Messengers one after the heels of another, to call you back to the Court; and now the Mother is come from the empress.  Bash. 
It cannot be for any Treason to the State, nor to the empress my Mistress; nor for any Crime against my fellow-Servants, and Sisters; and certainly they do not take me for a wise Sybel to ask Counsel of.  Civil. 
They are spiteful and envious, as fearing you should mary the Lord Loyalty, who is not only one of the gallantest Men, but one of the greatest in the Kingdom.  Bash. 
Well, Madam, I shall take my leave of you for this time, and pray sand the Lord Loyalty word, I am sent for to the Court in all hast; but I will rest upon his favour to defend me, if I be assaulted, or to receive me if I be in distress. Exeunt.   

SCENE XVI.  Enter Madam Impoverished, Underward's eldest Sister, Monsieur Lover, her Ladies Brother, follows her. Mad. Impoverished. 
SIR, why do you follow me so?  Lover. 
To have you love me.  Impov. 
After what manner would you have me love you? as you are a worthy Person, or a bountiful Master, a kind friend, or an amorous Lover, or for a Husband?  Lover. 
As a Lover.  Impov. 
As a platonic Lover, or a Carnal Lover, or an admiring, sighing, whining Lover, or an honest Matrimonial Lover?  Lover. 
As a Carnal Lover, and by that all manner of fashioned Lovers, or degrees of Loves, are comprehended.  Impov. 
Well, apprehended me then, and know I am only for a Matrimonial Lover, and for no other.  Lover. 
Do you think I will mary my Sisters waiting Woman?  Impov. 
Why, am I the worse, for being your Sisters Woman?  Lover. 
No, not for being my Sisters Woman, because she is a worthy and honourable person; but for being a Servant.  Impov. 
There are none who are not either Servants, or Slaves by Nature, Fortune, Opinion, Necessity, or supreme power; we are Slaves to the Pleasure of our Sences; to the pains and sickness of our Bodies; to the passions of our Minds; to the necessities of Poverty; to human Laws; to the motions of Time; to the Conveniency of Place; to the change of Chance; to the decrees of Fate; to the frowns of Fortune: And if you are in Love with me, you are a Slave either to my Beauty, Wit, Virtue, or your own evil desires; but those, who can conquer themselves, are the most free, since they rule their Passions, temper their Appetites, order their Actions, bear their Misfortunes without murmuring, endure pain patiently, fear not death, nor are weary of life; and not doing thus you may be more a Servant or Slave, then I; yet none are absolutely free: For, although Patience, Temperance, Fortitude, Prudence, and Industry be as Engines or Instruments, which serve to break off some of our Shackles; yet they break not all our Chains; for Civility, Obligations, Duty, Humanity, Morality, and Divinity bind us; in whic bondage we ought to remain; and not only these bind us, but Nature her self binds us; nay, Nature her self binds and enslaves her self with Rods of pain; by which we may perceive,  
That it is only Death which sets us free,  
For whilst we live we are bound to slavery.  Lover. 
But some are more noble Slaves then others.  Impov. 
No truly, for those are as much enslaved that are tied with Golden Chains, as with those of Iron; or whipped with silken Cords, as with those of Hemp, if they are as strong to restrain them, or so knotty that the smart may keep them in awe: But as to the matter of service, I think it not only an advantage for Gentlemen and Women who have low Fortunes, to serve those that are rich in Possessions, or great Titles, or powerful or meritorious Persons; but they are an honour to those persons they serve, and ought not to be thought the worse for serving of them, but to be the more esteemed; otherwise, they do not only disgrace those that serve them; but they disgrace themselves by undervaluing their services, as the truth is, most do: For Example, A Gentleman of an ancient Family, whose Ancestors have been very rich, powerful and meritorious, being fallen into decay, either by their too free and noble Entertainments, or by some misfortune; or by a numerous issue, which cuts and divides an Estate so often, and into such small parts, as it is dispersed, and flys away like dust, the Estate being gone before the line of succession is ended; the issue of that line are enforced to seek their Fortunes, addressing themselves to the protection and maintenance of some Noble Persons, which Noble Persons ought to prefer them according to their desert; but put the case some have so much Means as to give their Sons and Daughters indifferent Portions, yet living obscurely, not having such Estates as to keep and entertain resort, or to put themselves in a public way of living, their Children are butted in obscurity, having not ways or a sufficient Estate, to make themselves known to the World, or the World to them; wherefore, these Gentlemen sand their Sons and Daughters to serve Noble Men, and honourable Ladies; in which Services they learn handsome Fashions, Graceful Behaviour, Noble Entertainments: Also, their Beauties are set out to the general view, their Wits to the general Observation; their Worth and Merits to the general knowledge of the chief of the Kingdom, or at least, to some eminent persons which take notice of them, and so much many times as to mary them. As for their Sons, their Lords and Noble Masters do often prefer them to Offices, or some marshal Command, if they be persons worthy of Preferment; but if they are not preferred, yet they have Diet, Lodging, Wages, and good Company so long as their Lords and Noble Masters live, and enjoy their respect, and esteem; besides, all Noble Mens Houses are, or should be superintendant Courts, not only to entertain the Kingdom with Sports and delights, and to teach them Civility, and courteous Behaviour; but to show the Honour and Magnificence of the Kingdom, to awe others, and keep up their own Dignity, and by that the Royalty; making a difference betwixt the Peasantry, and the Gentry; for as the Nobility depend upon the Crown, and the Crown is upheld by the Nobility, so the Gentry upon the Nobility, and Nobility by the Gentry; which three parts joined, is the Noble half of the Kingdom; the Citizens, yeomanry and Handicrafts-Men, or Labourers, are the other half; this half is from the Wast downward, the other from the Wast upward: The King is the head, the Nobles are the heart, the Gentry the arms; the Head to direct, the Heart to assist, the arms to defend; the Head is the Seat of Justice, the Heart the Magazine of Counsel, the arms the force of Power. The other half is from the Wast downward, the Citizens are as the Belly which devour all, the Labourers the Feet to transport all; but if the Head be distempered with Simplicity, or distracted with Extravagancy, or aches with Tyranny; or the Heart sick with Treason, or hot with Malice, or could with Envy, or hath the passion of Covetousness; or if the arms be broken with cowardice, or weak with Debauchery; the Belly strait swells with Hydropical faction, and breaks into Rebellion; the thighs and feet become weak with Famine, and full of the scurvy of disorder: Thus, if the Head be not wise, the Heart honest, the arms strong, the rest of the Common-wealth is soon brought to ruin; And if the Emperor affronts the Nobility by disrepects, or neglects; and the Nobility strives to disgrace the Gentry: Royalty, Nobility, and Gentry will soon fall down; Also, if Kings slight their Noblest Servants, and the Nobility sleights the Right Worshipful Servants, their own Honour and Respect will soon decay; not but that all, who are Servants, ought to do their duty to their Lords, Masters, or Ladies, and to obey their pleasure, or else they ought to lose their Service; for all Servants owe a duty and respect to their Masters, and those Masters, who do not keep and govern them to the observance of that duty and respect, ought not to be Masters of Families, or to keep Servants.  
But to return to myself again; I believe you are a person so wise, and have so much worth, as neither to detract from your Sisters Services, nor to discredit my birth for being a Servant; 'tis true, if my Birth and Breeding, had been as low as my Fortunes, you might have rejected me as for a Wife, by reason the Qualities and Natures of mean Persons are most commonly accordingly, having as vulgar Souls as Births; I do not say all but most, for sometimes Merit is found in a poor Cottage, and those that have noble Souls are to be preferred before those of Honourable Birth; for they descend from the gods, whose Essence is infused into the purest Substance of their Nature; yet that is so seldom, that there are but few Ages that can boast thereof; but however they have this advantage, that they are so much the more prosperous being unusual; and as the Gentry are spurred with Ambition to maintain the Honour of their Ancestors, by Virtuous, Noble, and heroic Precepts,( for Gentry is derived from the root of Merit) so the brood of the Vulgar for the most part lies in the same litter, mire, kennel, or dunghill as their Parents did: And as I am a Gentlewoman born, and bread, although I am poor, yet I am an equal match, for any person, of what Dignity, Wealth, Power, or Authority whatsoever, and as I am virtuously Chast, I am not to be despised by the most heroic Spirit.  Lover. 
If you will preach such a Lecture to all my Friends, and acquaintance, and can convert them as you have done me, I will mary thee in great triumph, and feast them all at my Wedding.  Impov. 
Nay, surely I will never buy a Husband at the charge or cost of so many words, which must be laid out in so many several Discourses, unless I knew how you would prove.  Lover. 
Let me tell you, I shall prove an excellent bargain.  Impov. 
I dare not take your word. Exit.  Monsieur Lover, Solus. Lover. 
Well, I must mary her, although thrifty discretion forbids the Banes. Exit.   

SCENE XVII.  Enter Monsieur Underward, as being now a Widower, his Wife newly dead; and enter Tom Diogenes his Man. Tom Diogenes. 
SIR, will not your Worship keep the Funeral-Ceremonies for my Lady, now she is dead, and to have her hearse stand for a Month together, to receive Condoling Visits, and visitors, in a Room hung with black, and so many Mourners to sit by, and you as a sorrowful Husband at the head of the hearse, seeming to weep?  Under. 
I cannot sit so long a time.  T. Diog. 
Why? you need not if you will not, or cannot sit so long and tedious a time; for you may hite a poor Man to sit and mourn for you; for the Mourning Garments and Hood over the Head and Body, and the dirty Handkerchief held to the eyes, hides the person of the Mourner, so that none can tell, but that it is yourself.  Under. 
But yet I must imprison myself for that time; for if I should go abroad, the deceit will be found out.  T. Diog. 
But it were better to be bound and imprisoned to your single life, then to a Company of Strangers.  Under. 
And useless Ceremonies, Tom.  T. Diog. 
But Sir, I would advice you to keep it, were it but to divulge the Antiquity of your Gentility, which will be done by the Scutcheons upon the hearse.  Under. 
The expense will buy that vain glory too dear; for the very Torches that must be set about the hearse, will cost more then the Vanity is worth.  T. Diog. 
You may save that expense of Torches, Sir; for blinking Lamps with a little Rape-oyl, of small cost, will serve, and will do much better, and are more proper to be hung in a mourning room; for such Lamps look dismal and melancholy, by reason of the many shadows they make, by their imperfect lights; besides, when a hearse is beset round with great flaming Torches, the Corps seems as if it were in the midst of hellfire.  Under. 
Well, go your ways, Tom, and give order that her Corps be carried privately unto my Country-House, and then to be butted amongst my Ancestors; though truly I never knew her as a Wife, but in respect to that holy Ceremonial contract of Marriage, and honourable Names of Husband and Wife, she shall be butted there.  T. Diog. 
It is a favour, Sir, that you will let her lye with your Forefathers now she is dead, although you would never lye with her yourself, when she lived; and when you die and are butted in the same place, if your ashes should meet, they might chance to produce Immortal Souls.  Under. 
Or Platonick-Lovers, Tom. Exeunt.   

SCENE XVIII.  Enter the Maids, and other Court-Ladies. Madam spiteful. 
I Wonder that all the Strangers that come to the Court, should address themselves to Madamoisel Bashful, more then to any of the rest! it cannot be for her Wit; and I do not see so much beauty she hath to be admired.  Enter Monsieur Insinuator, Monsieur La Bough, and Monsieur Observer, Madamoisel Wagtail, and Madamoisel Wanton. Wagt. 
Lord, Gentlemen, how can you be so long in the Court without the sight of Madamoisel Bashful?  Insinu. 
Faith, she will not let us have a sight of her, but when she comes to attend on the empress.  Want. 
I would very fain know, whether any body ever heard her speak a dozen words.  La Boug. 
Madam, I have heard her.  Want. 
And were they sense, or non-sense?  La Boug. 
Very sensible to the subject she spoken on; but she speaks no more then needs she must, to keep in the society of Civility. Exeunt.  Enter the Mother of the Maids. Moth. 
Ladies, the empress is going abroad.  Exit.  

SCENE XIX.  Enter Madamoisel Bashful, and meets the Lord Loyalty in the Presence-Chamber. Lord Loyalty. 
WEll met; let me examine you where you have been.  Bash. 
I have been, my Lord, at Madam Controversie's Chamber to hear the Sages dispute.  Loyal. 
And which side carries it to day?  Bash. 
Why, neither, my Lord; it is left in debate, as most Disputes are.  Loyal. 
So it will be until Doomsday; for no questions concerning the gods can be resolved, nor any Arguments proved; and if no Souls should enter into the blessed Elysium, but those that must eat Ambrosia, and drink Nectar, and prove by reason what Meat and Drink it is; Charon might drown his Boat in the River of Styx; and Melancholy walk those blessed fields alone by himself; neither should Mortals ever have the Honour and Glory to be taken up into Jove's Mansion; Hercules had lost his labour, and Orion had never been a Constellation; and so of the rest of the gods: Should they impose that which we cannot undergo, and require that we cannot give, and expect we should know that which is not to be known, or at least understood, were not only unjust, but ridiculous, and agrees not with the Wisdom of the gods: Therefore Lady, let me advice you, never to harken after Controversies concerning the gods, nor to enter into any Controversies; for all sorts of Controversies will disquiet your mind, trouble your head, tyre your thoughts, disturb your rest, divide your affairs, disorder your Family, distracted your life, and torment your Soul: As for Disputes, it heats the Brain, spends the Spirits, breaks the Voice, wearies the Tongue, loses Friends, makes Quarrels, and many times causes unnatural death.  Bash. 
I shall take your Lordships Counsel.  Loyal. 
I pray grant my desire, to meet me at Madamoisel Civility's house.  Bash. 
I shall my Lord. Exeunt.   

SCENE XX.  Enter Madam Ill-favoured, Madamoisel spiteful, and Madamoisel Wagtail, as being three dear Friends. Madam Ill-favoured. 
HOw shall we compass to get the Company of Monsieur Insinuator, Monsieur Exceptions, and Monsieur Observer?  Wagt. 
Faith, I hate their Company; for they admire none, but Madamoisel Bashful.  Ill-fav. 
Therefore, I would endeavour to get them into our Company, to make her jealous.  Wagt. 
O, she cares not, for she shuns them.  spite. 
Yet she may be vexed to see her Admirers neglect her.  Wagt. 
As soon as they see her, they will leave our Company, to go and gaze on her.  Ill-fav. 
No; no; for our Wit will make them our own, and I will make an Entertainment, and invite them to Supper.  Wagt. 
Pish, pish.  Ill-fav. 
Nay, prithee agree; and i'faith, if you will come, I will sand for Doctor Female, and Master Letter; I know you love their Company well; for if you be not with us, Messieurs Insinuator, Observer, and Exceptions will never come.  Wagt. 
Why, did you use to laugh at them, or dispraise them?  Ill-fav. 
It's true, I did behind their backs, when we had other Men in our Company, and to please them we have disparaged those of our acquaintance that were not with us.  Wagt. 
Well, I will come to sup with you.  Exeunt.  

SCENE XXI.  Enter Tom Diogenes, with another Man, his Friend. MAn. 
Tom, how dost thou do?  Tom. 
Do you ask me, how I do in my Health, Estate, or Content?  Man. 
Why, in thy Health, and Wealth; for those that are Healthful and Rich, there is no doubt but they are Content ..  Tom. 
By your leave, let me tell you, That by my Observations in the World, I have observed, that those who are Healthful, very rich, and Powerful, have as troubled Minds, as those that are weakly, poor, and mean; for a Slave may be more content then a great Monarch; a poor Man that eats and lives by the sweat of his Brows, then a rich Usurer; a Bed-ridden Man, then a Dancing Gallant; for Content and Discontent lives in the Mind, not in the Body, Labour, Wealth, or Power.  Man. 
Well, how do you both in Mind and Body?  Tom. 
As most are, sometimes better, and sometimes worse.  Man. 
And how do you like the Court?  Tom. 
As the Court likes me.  Man. 
How is that?  Tom. 
Not to care whether I am in, or out; but come, we will go into the Cellar, for the Cellar-Man is my great Friend, and he will make thee drink for my sake. Exeunt.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and Madam Ill-favoured Ill-fav. 
Monsieur Underward, when will you come to my Chamber? I can never see you there of late, I pray come and sup with me to Night; there will be Madam spiteful, and Monsieur malicious.  Under. 
Faith, Madam, my occasions are such, as will force my absence, for which I could curse my fate, that deprives me of your sweet Company.  Ill-fav. 
If you will come, I will sand for Madam Wagtail, and she will tempt you, though I cannot; what say you, will you come?  Under. 
Madam, your Commands are so powerful, as they are able to force Destiny her self. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXII.  Enter Madamoisel Petitioner, her Gentleman-Usher, and a Waiting-Woman with her; she all in Mourning as a Widow, being young and handsome. Madamoisel Petitioner. 
WE will go no further, lest we should be turned back, with some affront; for Courts( they say) are apt to cast disgrace on Strangers.  Usher. 
Not on one of your Quality, Madam.  Petit. 
Of any Quality, if they understand not the Court's Garbs and Phrases.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and seeing the Lady standing as in a back-Gallery, speaks to her. Under. 
Madam, your Beauty deserves to be shown to the view of the World, and not to be obscured in a black-Gallery; wherefore, your ladyship had best go into the Presence, where are other Beauties to entertain you.  Petit. 
Sir, I came not to show my Beauty, had I any to show; but to offer a Petition to the Emperor and his Council, if I knew how?  Under. 
Surely you cannot offer a Petition, and not receive a Grant; and could I do your ladyship any service, I should think myself happy; and although I live at Court, and am a Servant to the Emperor, my power is but weak; yet if you please to employ me, I shall serve you to the uttermost of my weak power.  Petit. 
Sir, I shall be thankful; and I will reward you to the uttermost of my ability.  Under. 
Madam, I am not Mercenary, nor do I offer my service out of base Interest; I make not Petitioners my Clients to bribe me, nor do I live by such rewards; but your Commands would be reward enough, and more then I have Merit to deserve, had I power to my wish.  Petit. 
I hope I have not offended, Sir?  Under. 
Your Sex is sacred, and he is not worthy of the Name of a Gentleman, that thinks a Lady can offend any more then the gods; they may punish Offences with their Frowns, but they themselves cannot offend by doing unjust acts, from whence offences do proceed.  Petit. 
Then, Sir, I shall desire so much Friendship from you, as to let me know when the Council sits, and to present me to the place.  Under. 
I shall, Madam.  Petit. 
If I had any body to recommend my svit, I make no question but it would thrive the better.  Under. 
Madam, there is a noble person, one of the Emperor's Privy Council, who is both generous and just, and hath some power and favour with the Emperor; he hath been pleased to bestow a civil respect to me, and if you please I will present you to him.  Petit. 
Sir, I shall be obliged to you for your favours.  Enter the Lord Loyalty, Monsieur Underward goeth to him and speaks to him. Under. 
My Lord, there is a Lady that desires your Lordships favourable assistance about a Petition she would deliver to the Emperor, and his Council; my noble Lord, I shall not need to pled her Cause; for her Beauty, and the Justice of her Cause, will pled themselves, without the help of Rhetotick.  Loyal. 
Sir, it was well you put in the Justice of her Cause; for Beauty ought not to pled; for it corrupts all Mortal Judges; but Madam, if you please to make your Petition known to me, I shall advice you the best I can, and shall be industrious in your service; and if you please to let me wait on you into the Room before the Council-Chamber, I shall there best hear your Cause, and receive your Commands.  Petit. 
I shall wait on your Lordship.  The Lord Loyalty takes her by the hand, and leads her out, the rest follow. Enter Monsieur Observer to Monsieur Underward. observe. 
So Underward! no sooner a rich young Widow is fallen, but you strait catch her up!  Under. 
What rich young Widow?  Obs. 
As if you did not know, and have lead her about from room to room this hour.  Under. 
Why, was she a Widow which I lead?  observe. 
Why, did not you know her?  Under. 
No, by my troth, I knew not, whether she was Wife, Widow, or Maid.  observe. 
Then let me tell you, she is one of the richest Widows that is in the Kingdom.  Under. 
That may be, and yet but poor.  observe. 
Nay, she is very rich; for she was an Heir before she Married, and her Husband a mighty rich Man, and hath left her a great fortune.  Under. 
Surely she deserves it, for she seems of a sweet disposition, and noble nature.  observe. 
Whether she deserve it, or not, he was bound to leave it her upon the conditions her friends made upon the Marriage; otherwise, I doubt he would have left her poor enough, I mean as poor as he could leave her; for he and she could never agree all the while they lived together; for she being Married to him against her will, being forced by her Friends, he after he was Married grew across and unkind to her, as being jealous of her affection.  Under. 
It seems you are well acquainted with the Lady, and her particular affairs.  observe. 
I am better acquainted with her affairs, then her self, by the acquaintance of her attorney.  Under. 
I would you were as well acquainted with her self, as with her attorney, then perchance you might have done me a courtesy. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXIII.  Enter two Old Court-Ladies. First Lady. 
HE is a very fine Gentleman, by my troth.  2 Lady. 
There hath not been a more civil, nor better behaved Courtier, a great while.  Enter Monsieur Underward, being a Courtier. 1 Lady. 
We were even now a talking of you.  Under. 
Madam, I am not a Subject worthy of your Discourse.  2 Lady. 
I knew your Father, he was a worthy Gentleman, and kept a noble House, gave great Entertainment, and I have been made very welcome there.  Under. 
I wish I had the honour and abilities to make your Ladyships as welcome as my Father did.  2 Lady. 
I'faith you would not make me so welcome, nor be so kind as your Father was.  Under. 
It should be no fault in my Will, whatsoever it might in my power.  Enter Madamoisel Wanton, and a Maid of Honour; as she enters she sings quavering, La, la, la, fa, la. Want. 
O Monsieur Underward! I have been inquiring for you, of all I met with, for there is a new Play in the City, and you shall carry me to it; i'faith you shall.  Under. 
Madam, your Commands are sufficient without an Oath, to sand me any where; and I am proud of being entertained in your service.  1 Old Lady. 
Fie! fie! you fond young Lady; you young Ladies surfet Mens affections.  Want. 
Faith, Madam, that is, because you are Old; but if you were as young as I, or when you were as young, your fondness, I believe, thought Men beyond surfeits; but wanton Age envies Youths freedom: Come Monsieur let us go.  Under. 
Your humble Servant, Ladies.  Exeunt Underward, and Madamoisel Wanton. The Old lady Solae. 1 Lady. 
Did you ever see one so young, and so bold?  2 Lady. 
Why, truly all Youth is so in this Age; there is hardly a modest Maid to be found.  1 Lady. 
In our times it was otherwise; for then Maids were seen, and not heard.  2 Lady. 
They were so; but now they are heard before they are seen. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXIV.  Enter Conversant and Observer to Monsieur Underward. Monsieur Underward. 
COnversant, I come to claim my wager, for I have won it.  converse. 
I confess it also; I confess I did never judge so weakly in my life.  Under. 
Faith, you were always peremptory, and as confident of your judgement, as if you knew it would never miss, when to my knowledge it seldom hits; for if you judge once right, you judge ten times false; and I, for once I judge false, I judge ten times right.  converse. 
You brag now you have won a wager by your judgement, but I have as much wit to judge on Conjectures, Probabilities, Persons, or Business, as you.  Under. 
Perchance, you have as much Wit as I, and more wisdom then I, and far more good Nature then I; for it is your Wisdom and good Nature, that makes you err in your judgement; for you judge of Men and Business according to sense, reason and honesty, as what ought to be done, or may be done, discreetly imagining all Men in their actions and course of life, to do justly, honestly, judiciously, and as they ought to do, supposing that they understand their own affairs and Employments clearly, measure them evenly, weigh them justly, and that they order all their Business properly, timely, and fitly, judging most Men wise and honest; whereas, I judge most Men Fools or Knaves; Fools, because they neither conceive rightly, nor understand clearly, nor propound rationally, nor conclude probably, nor act prudently; or that they are Knaves, who regard neither right, truth, nor justice, but act all for their self-interest, although it should be to the ruin of all honest Men, or to the ruin of the Commonwealth, so it may be any advantage to themselves: And this Observation of Mankind makes me for the most part judge right; for I observe, That neither Nature, nor the gods, have given all Men, no nor most Men, either Wisdom or Honesty; for Honesty is not a general gift; and as for Wisdom it is so scarce in the World, as not one wise Man is born in an age; for though there be many fortunate Men, which seem like wise Men, yet they are but of Fortunes making, and not of Truths making; for true Wisdom is like the Elixir, it is heard of, but not known: Wherefore, good Conversant, judge not most Men to be Wise and Honest.  converse. 
Well, hereafter I will judge all or most Men to be Fools, or Knaves, or both; and all their actions to be against all sense and reason; and whatsoever falls out happily, is the act of Fortune; and whatsoever falls out unhappily, is through Mans folly, falsehood, or ignorance.  Enter Spend-all reading in a Paper-Book. converse. 
Jove bless me! Spend-all, can you red! or do you hold a piece of Printed paper in your hands, before your eyes, to make all the Passengers believe you can red?  Spend. 
Why, do you think I cannot red, because I cannot Construe a piece of Latin?  converse. 
It is not that you cannot Construe Latin, but because you are so deboist, that I had thought you had never looked in a Book, or any written or printed Paper, since you had been a School-boy.  Spend. 
I confess, I have not troubled reading much; but all the Shops, Streets, Houses and Studies are so full of Pamphlets and Diurnals, as I cannot pass by, or crowd through them, unless I take up some to red.  converse. 
'Tis a sign, this Age is filled with lying News, or new lies; for in this Age, at least in this Kingdom, there are many Pamphlet-Wits, and Diurnal-Histories, which are most lies.  observe. 
There are as many Declarations and Petitions, as there are Pamphlets and Diurnals, which shows there be Eloquent Orators, that can make Eloquent Declarations and Petitions.  Spend. 
'Tis true; but as for their Declarations, they have for the most part one style, and much after one and the same way, only some words altered, according to the present subject; and as for their Petitions, the Wit of a whole County, or the whole Wit of a County is joined to make one Petition.  observe. 
I confess, that half a sheet of Paper, at most a whole sheet, is as large as their Wit will reach; wherefore, it would be very ill fortune, if they were not good, since they are so short.  converse. 
But some Historians will gather them together, and make a great swelled Hydropical History of them. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXV.  Enter Madam Ill-favoured, and Madamoisel Wagtail. Madam Ill-favoured. 
FAith, Wagtail, I have been expecting you this half hour; yet I perceive you are not always as good as your word.  Wagt. 
Faith, I could not help it; for the Duchess of Amors sent me to seek out the Duke of Noeland, to tell him she was gone to Madam la Gravities Chamber.  Ill-fav. 
And did you find him?  Wagt. 
Yes, I met him coming from the Emperor.  Enter Madamoisel Tell-tale, and Madam spiteful. Ill-fav. 
Madamoisel Tell-tale, prithee for Jupiter's sake run to the Duchess, and tell her I heard her Lord inquire for her; and 'twas  told him she was seen going to Madam la Gravities Lodging; for if her Husband finds her and the Duke of Noeland together, he will frown; wherefore, prithee run: Tell-tale runs out.  
Although on my Conscience he hath no reason to suspect them.  spite. 
No, but our Husbands are jealous Men, and very mistrustful. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXVI.  Enter Tom Diogenes, and another Man. MAn. 
Tom, I hear thy Master is Married again to a very rich Lady.  Tom. 
Yes, Faith; Fortune hath been a better Friend to my Master, then the Court of Wards.  Man. 
Now thy Master hath such great fortune, thou mayst grow rich.  Tom. 
No, Faith, for when my Master Married his first Wife, he was so poor he had nothing to give me, and now he hath Married a rich Wife, I fear he will grow so covetous, as he will not part with any thing.  Man. 
But rich Men use to be free and liberal.  Tom. 
O no, for Men are bountiful, when they have nothing to give, but sparing when they have something to keep. Exeunt.   

SCENE XXVII.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and Tom Diogenes his Man. Tom Diogenes. 
IF I may be so bold, Sir, I wonder your Worship will leave the Court?  Under. 
Nay, Tom, the Court leaves me.  Tom. 
I dare answer for the Court, it will never leave your Worship as long as you have a penny; and when you have nothing, then 'tis time to leave you i'faith.  Under. 
Wherefore, Tom, I will leave it whilst I have pence.  Tom. 
Where will you find so kind Friends in the Country? Courtiers will so smile on you to your face!  Under. 
And laugh at me behind my back.  Tom. 
In your presence, what sugared words they will give you?  Under. 
And in my absence, what wormwood and gull?  Tom. 
How they will embrace you?  Under. 
And when they are from me, kick at my name.  Tom. 
Nay, they will kiss you.  Under. 
A Judas-kiss, to betray me.  Tom. 
And when they see you, clap their hands for joy, a plaudite of welcome.  Under. 
When out of sight, out of Mind; or else like Snakes to hiss me from their Stage.  Tom. 
Nay, they will whisper in your ear Court-Secrets.  Under. 
Though there be none.  Tom. 
And they will almost softly speak Treason in your ear.  Under. 
Yes, and afterwards swear, that it was I spoken it unto them.  Tom. 
Well Sir, for my part I never saw kinder people in my life.  Under. 
When they use you kindest, then look to yourself, for then they have deceived, or mean to deceive you; all is Interest and particular End, that is all the kindness and friendship they have.  Tom. 
Interest is well, if they pay that, for they are never able to pay the Principal; but I assure your Worship if they give me good words to my face, I care not what they do when they are gone; back-biters are but back-snarlers: But where will your Worship have such fine Clothes, a la mode Feathers, Mistresses, gilded Coaches, Pages, lackeys, Powders, Perfumes, masks, plays, Balls, and a thousand such like Recreations? and in Winter time sitting with a particular Lady upon a fine French bed by dim Candle light, having such sweet Conversation after sighing, groaning, professing and protesting with Lovers tears, and all for Loves Epilogue, which she longs for as much as you, though she makes it nice with tricks of Loves dissembling; and will you lose all these fine sports for catching birds in the Country, or killing a timorous Hare.  Under. 
For all your Court-delights, I'll have none, for in one day in the Country, live more harmless joys, then in years at Court, which heap up Alps of trouble.  Tom. 
Well, it is your juleps pleasure to go into the Country, and be Melancholy, conversing with Beasts, Birds, and Trees, and to leave these Court-pleasures for your rich Heir.  
Where what is left, he means to spend it,  
And in high Pleasure there will end it.  
Wherefore, had not your Worship better take your pleasure yourself? for after a Prodigal, comes a good Husband; for he is necessitated to it; and after a good Husband a Prodigal; for he is obliged to it; like the whither, after fair comes foul, and after foul, fair: Wherefore, I beseech your Worship for the good of your Family, spend most you have, and you shall have Pleasure to boot.  Under. 
No Sir, I am resolved of my Course.  Tom. 
The more is the pity, that good Counsel will not be taken, when it is so prudently given; but Gentlemen will run on to their ruin, I see it, the gods help them! for they will never be advised nor counseled; but I beseech your Worship here upon my Knees, that you will be pleased to spend most of your Estate for the good of your Posterity; alas Sir! when you leave your Heir in the Golden waves of Riches, in the vast Seas of good Fortune up to the Chin, lest he should be drowned in the deluge of Happiness; alas! Sir, he will strive to swim, and then look you here, swimming he throws your Gold on that side, and on this side, with his hands and arms, and kicks your Gold with his legs, thighs, and feet, on that side and on this side, and all to save himself from drowning in this whirlpool of Prosperity; wherefore, I beseech your Worship to leave as little as you can, for the good of your House.  Under. 
You are a Fooll, Children are but excuses for Covetousness; for it is still for ones own sake, that Men do every thing as the heat of humour and passion leads them; for I have known more covetous old bachelors and childish Men, then any that have been Married, and had many Children; and let my Heir spend it in God's Name, for he cannot take more pleasure in spending of it, then I in getting of it; and therefore you Puppy, let us go.  Exit Monsieur Underward, Tom Solus. Tom. 
My Master leads me, for now I am his Puppy; but if my Master were blind, I would led him, and be his Dog.   

SCENE XXVIII.  Enter Monsieur Underward, his two Brothers, and two Sisters. Monsieur Underward. 
BRothers and Sisters, I sent for you, to invite you to my Wedding-feast, and also to come home and live with me; and since Heaven hath sent me a rich Wife, I will justly perform my Fathers will, and give those Portions he did allot for you.  Impoverished. 
Brother, as Heaven hath given you a rich and beautiful Wife, so Heaven hath given me a rich and gallant Man to my Husband, for I am Married to Monsieur Lover, my Lady's Brother.  2 Brothers. 
And we will go a Wooing, and try if Fortune will give us rich Wives.  Younger Sist. 
I have neither Heaven, nor Fortune to my Friend; for Fortune did place me ill, and caused my honest industry and faithful service to be rewarded with sharp words, and cruel blows; Heaven hath forsaken Innocency, and left it to suffer disgrace.  She Weeps. Under. 
Be patient Sister, I will either recover your Honour, or destroy your Enemy, or die myself.  Enter Monsieur jealousy, the younger Sister's Servant. Jealous. 
O Mistress, forgive me, and take me into your favour again, or I die.  Young. Sist. 
I can forgive you, but never love you more.  Jealous. 
mary me, and then try to love afterwards.  Young. Sist. 
I shall not dare to mary a Man that shall, or can have any suspicion of me, unless my actions prove me false and wicked.  Jealous. 
Dear Sister, speak for me, I confess my fault, repent, ask pardon, and promise never to do so again.  Under. 
What say you, Brothers, may we in honour persuade ourselves to have our Sister mary this Gentleman, and receive him into our Family?  Jealous. 
Gentlemen, the greatest Sins repented of, Heaven pardons.  2 Brothers. 
Brother, this Gentleman is nobly born, honourably bread, hath a great Estate, and is a proper Man.  Under. 
Well, I perceive, Brothers, you are for him; Sir, I will try all the power of an Elder Brother, to persuade her not only to mary you, but to love you, which I am very confident she will, being virtuous and good natured, and will love you as well, if not better then ever she did.  Exeunt.  

SCENE XXIX.  Enter Monsieur Underward, and Tom Diogenes his Man. Tom Diogenes. 
I Beseech your Worship to give me leave once more to advice you from the Country; alas Sir, will you change your Organ for a Bag-pipe, your Harpsichord, for a Cymbal; your Viol, for a Country Fiddle, or a Welsh crowd; a grave Irish Harp, with the Harper that sees what he doth, for a blind Harper with Cats-guts that whirles in the nose, as if it had the Pox; or a Spanish Gythar, to play a Saraband a la mode; with Knacking Castagnetas for a Country Gythar, that sounds like a Tub; and your rare Italian songs with Trilloes for Lancelot du Lake, a Carole, or a Wassel-bowl Song, with some edifying Ballets; and will you change your Corrants, Sarabands and Bralles, for Scotch embracings, Hornpipes and Rounds? look before you leap, I beseech your Worship.  Under. 
It is all in vain, good Tom; for I am resolved your twinkling device shall not stay me.  Tom. 
But pray hear an old Servant; will you change a Spanish Olia, for boiled Beef and Cabbage? a French Bisk for Brewis with Beef-broth or buttered Eggs with hot Pepper upon them? and all the Dainties of Sea or Pond-Fish, for a Dace or a Gougeon in the Country, and all Curiosity of Dressing so Metamorphosed as you shall not know what you eat? and for fruit, change your Musmelons for a Pompion? your most curious salads for Onions and garlic? all your choice Fruits for Crabs? and all your Confectionaries for starched Carrowaies, or purging Comfits, because you buy them of Country Apothecaries? I beseech your Worship have some mercy of yourself, and leave not the delicious Wines, and the sweet juice of Grapes for strong Darby-Ale, fah! how it smells of the Malt, for they put no Water to it, nothing but squeezed Malt, Sir, which inflames the Country Noses.  Under. 
Tom, I do not taste your advice by no means, no not at all.  Tom. 
Sir, I must be bold still to put you in mind not to leave the Court: Will you change your sweet Spanish Gloves, for Dogs Leather-Gloves in the Country, that smell of the dressing? your Spanish Perfumes for choking Juniper? your Jessamin and Orange-Flowers, for a posy of Dock-leaves, daisies and thyme; and your sweet Pomander, for an Orange stuck with Cloves, for a Token to your Dairy-Maid? sweet Powder, for the dust of a Country High-way, to put you in mind of your Mortality, dust to dust? Good Sir, think of it, be kind to yourself.  Under. 
Tom, I smell out your advice to be none of the best Counsel.  Tom. 
One word more, I beseech your Worship: Will you change your fine Damask linen for Country Huswives Cloth, to rub off your Worships fine skin? it may pleasure those that have the Itch: Or will you leave touching the smooth Billiard-balls, to handle Nettles? or the could or crystal balls, for Fus-balls in the Country? and to leave the glorious apparelled Lady for a Wastcoatier in the Country? the Ladies silk-Stockins, for Woollen-Stockins in the Country? rich Garters and Roses, for Garters of List of Cloth? rich laced shoes for wet-Leather-Shoos tied with points? embroidered rich Satin Petticoats for Stamel-Petticoats, perfumed too much with the natural Titillation? either this will stay your Worship, or nothing; if this take not I am in despair.  Under. 
Good Tom, it doth not touch upon me at all; but prithee since thou art such a Clown, what makes thee love the Court so?  Tom. 
Troth, I'll tell you Sir; I am as it were given a little to idleness; wherefore, I find it the fittest place for me in the World, Sir; besides, Sir, with his Majesties loyal Subjects, and false Officers below Stairs, I can be drunk when I will at his Majesties charge, of the best Wine; and being provident, and having the disease of good fellowship upon me, being a poor Man, it would undo me, Sir, and eat me out of House and Home; but Providence is above all things, it distinguishes betwixt the wise Men, and the Fools.  Under. 
Come, Tom, there is something else in it, that makes thee so earnest.  Tom. 
No indeed, Sir, nothing to speak of.  Under. 
But there is, and therefore tell me.  Tom. 
Truly then, ( under the Rose,) the Mother of the Maids sends me often about her most serious and important Business, and casts such a loving eye at me; saying, Sweet Tom, I do so trouble thee, but as thou loves me, fetch me a quart of Milk, or so, to make a Posset; and giving me such a loving Nip with her hand, saying, Sweet Tom, go: Now your Worship knows not what this may come to, I being a lazy fellow and pretty handsome, and she a virtuous Lady, we may commit Matrimony, who knows? and with her Motherly care, and my Fatherly duty, we may do your Worship a pleasure, one way or other.  Under. 
You flatter yourself, Tom.  Tom. 
No Sir, she flatters me.  Under. 
I thought there was another deadly Sin in it.  Tom. 
Truly, Sir, I find myself very Gentleman-like of late, so as I mean to have the other five deadly Sins.  Under. 
You are a Fool, Tom.  Tom. 
O sweet Mother!     


The ACTORS NAMES in the Presence.  
Two Gentlemen.  
Courtiers. 

Monsieur Conversant,  
Monsieur Observant,  
Monsieur Mode,  
Monsieur Spend-all,    
Princess and her Governess.  
Gentlewomen. 

Monsieur Wagtail,  
Monsieur Self-conceit,  
Monsieur Wanton.  
Monsieur Quick-wit,  
Monsieur Bashful,    
The Mother of the Maids.  
Fool.  
Monsieur Wedlock.  
The sailor.  
A jailer.   
The Interlocutors Names in the Scenes joined to the Presence  

Monsieur Buyer.  
Monsieur Seller.  
Monsieur Underward, and Diogenes his Man.  
Monsieur Underward's Brothers and Sisters.  
Two Gentlemen.  
Madam Civility.  
The Lord Loyalty, a Courtier.  
Court-Ladies. 

Madam Ill-favourd,  
Madam spiteful,  
Madam controversy,  
Madam ill-natured.    
Madam impoverished, Monsieur Underwards eldest Sister  
A younger Sister of his, and Monsieur jealousy her Servant.  
Monsieur Lover, Servant to Madam Impoverished.  
Madam Petitioner, and a Gentleman-Usher.  
Two Old Court-Ladies.    

The Bridals. A COMEDY.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I.  Enter Monsieur Take-pleasure and Monsieur Adviser, and meet Monsieur. facile. Monsieur Adviser. 
MOns. facile, Where have you been so early this morning, abroad?  facile. 
I have been at Church, to see a young Virgin and a bachelor married to day.  Take-pleas. 
How do you know she is a Virgin?  facile. 
By her modest Countenance.  Take-pleas. 
Faith, Women have more modesty in their countenance, then in their natures; wherefore you may be deceived by her countenance; for Womens countenances, like false glasses, make their minds appear fairer then they are; for a modest countenance may have a wanton mind.  facile. 
But this Brides countenance was so modest, I wish that I had been her Bridegroom.  Adviser. 
Would you have married her only for her modest countenance?  facile. 
Yes, for a modest countenance is the greatest Beauty in my eye.  Adviser. 
Faith, that Beauty never lasts above a day, nay, an hours acquaintance fadeth it, two hours whither it, and in three hours it is quiter vanished away.  facile. 
Some Women have modest countenances and natures all their life-time.  Adviser. 
Their life must be very short, if it last no longer then their modesty: 'Tis true, Women have feigned modesty, but not real modesty; for they put on modesty, as they do paint, the one to make them appear fairer, the other to make them appear chaster then they are.  facile. 
You do not deserve either a modest, or chast Woman.  Adviser. 
Faith, I hate both modesty and chastity in Women; for modesty and chastity are enemies to the Masculine Sex, and worse then a Cloister, as being more restraint.  facile. 
Well, leaving Modesty, Chastity and Cloisters, will you go to the Bridal-House?  Adviser. 
Yes, for I believe there will be liberty and choice.  facile. 
There will be two choice Brides.  Take-pleas. 
Why, hath one Man married two Women?  facile. 
No, but two Men have married two Women; for there are two Brides and two Bridegrooms.  Adviser. 
It had been better that one Bridegroom had two Brides, for then he might have spared one for a Friend.  facile. 
It had not been better for you, unless you had been that Friend to receive that courtesy.  Takepleas. 
I would have endeavoured with all the rhetoric I have, and all the Protestations I could make, and all the Oaths I could swear, to make him believe I was his Friend, that he might be my Friend.  facile. 
Come, come, they would have done thee no service.  Adviser. 
But I might have done him service, at least to his spare-Bride; but who are those that are Married?  facile. 
Sir John Amorous, to the Lady Coy; and Sir William Sage, to the Lady virtue. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Long-life, and Mr. Aged. Aged. 
Mr. Longlife, I am glad to see you look so well, and that you are strong and lusty.  Longl. 
So am I to see you so, good Master Aged.  Aged. 
I thank God, though I am old, I feel no stitches.  Longl. 
Beshrew me, I feel some stitches now and then  Aged. 
O! that is nothing, for the youngest and strongest Man of them all, will feel stitches sometimes.  Longl. 
I rather wish the young Men did feel them, then I, for they are better able to endure them; but what News do you hear Mr. Aged?  Aged. 
Faith, none that is good, or that is worth the hearing.  Longl. 
It is a sign the times are bad, the times are bad.  Aged. 
Men are so evil, Mr. Longlife, that the times must needs be so.  Longl. 
The times were better when we were young.  Aged. 
We thought them so, being young; for young Men have not much experience, nor long acquaintance of the World; they endeavour to know, and be acquainted with the Vices in the World, though not the virtues.  Longl. 
Faith, virtue is rather talked of, then known, at least then practised.  Aged. 
Indeed Men preach virtue, but practise 'vice.  Longl. 
'Tis such old Men as we are, that are the Preachers, and young Men the Practitioners.  Aged. 
Yes, evil young Men say, That old Men preach virtue, when they are past practising 'vice.  Longl. 
Indeed young Men despise old Men's Counsels and Advice, and will believe nothing they say, until they live to be old themselves, and then they see their past-follies, and think themselves only wise, because they are old.  Aged. 
Then all Men think themselves wise, if young Men think themselves wiser then old Men, and old Men think themselves wiser then young Men.  Longl. 
'Tis true, they do so; and the same way Men think other Men Fools; for young Men think old Men Fools, and old Men think young Men Fools.  Aged. 
Nay, old Men do more then think young Men Fools, for they know young Men are Fools; for 'tis impossible they can be wise, for wisdom is not born with Men, nor left to Men as Inheritances are.  Longl. 
No By'rlady, they must be bound Apprentices to Time, and serve Time many years, before they can be wise Men.  Aged. 
Well, let us leave foolish young Men to Time, and let you and I go take the fresh air for Health.  Longl. 
With all my heart, let us go. Exeunt.  Enter the Brides and Bridegrooms, and all the Bridal Guests, Sir Mercury, Poet one of the Bride-Men, and the Lady Fancy one of the Bride-Maids, that helps to led one of the Brides to the Church. Adviser. 
Gentlemen Bridegrooms, we must rifle your Brides of their Bride-Garters.  Sir J. Amorous. 
If it be the custom, I submit.  Sage. 
But I will not agree to such an uncivil custom, for no man shall pull off my Wives Garters, unless it be myself.  virtue. 
We have pulled off our Garters already, and therefore if these Batchellor-Gentlemen, will have them, we will sand for them.  facile. 
Pray Ladies let us have them, for the Bride-Garters are the young bachelors fees.  Courtly. 
Since we must not rifle for their Garters, let us cast Dice for them.  Takepleas. 
Content.  M. Mediator. 
The Bridegrooms points being our fees, therefore we must rifle for the points.  Sir W. Sage. 
If you please Ladies, we are ready to be rifled.  The Women offer to take off the Points, but Lady virtue hinders them. virtue. 
Ladies, pray stay, for it is the custom, not to unpoint the Bridegrooms, until they be ready to go to bed.  Sir W. Sage. 
I am ready to go to Bed, if the Ladies please.  One of the Female-Guests. 
No, we will stay till Night.  Exeunt all, only two of the Ladies. 1 Lady. 
The Lady Coy is one of the most modest and bashful Brides that ever I saw; in so much, as she is ashamed to look upon her Bridegroom.  2 Lady. 
Some of her modesty ought to be reserved, or else she will have none left for to morrow.  1 Lady. 
Why, doth Modesty wast like a Watch-candle, in a night?  2 Lady. 
Yes, faith, it is a light that soon goes out, or rather a shadow that soon vanishes.  1 Lady. 
Then the Lady virtue has no shadows, for she appears neither bashful, nor bold; but she is both in her Behaviour and Countenance like a Bridal-Guest, rather then a Bride. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter the Brides, Bridegrooms, and all their Bridal-Guests, Men and Women. Sir John Amorous. 
PRay let us not dance, but go to bed.  M. Mediator. 
That will be an injury to your Bridal-Guests, to rob them of their Mirth and music, by going to bed so soon.  L. virtue. 
No, Ladies, we will dance; music, play.  The music plays, and they dance; Sir John Amorous kisses his Bride, and Courts her with smiles and amorous looks. Sir W. Sage. 
Gentlemen, and Ladies, for Heavens sake, have mercy upon two languishing Bridegrooms, and leave off dancing for this time.  M. Mediator. 
Have I found you out, Sir William Sage!  Sir W. Sage. 
I was never hide, Madam.  M. Mediator. 
Yes, but you were; for now I perceive you would go to bed with your Bride.  Sage. 
I shall not need to obscure my desires, Madam, for it is lawful for any Man to lye with his own wife.  Mediator. 
You are a Wag, you are a Wag, Sir William.  Sage. 
No Madam, for to be a Wag, is to be unseasonably wanton, which I am not.  Amorous. 
Faith, this Dancing is unseasonable, therefore fair Ladies, attend the fair Brides to bed.  Female Guests. 
Come, Lady Coy, we will help to undress you.  Coy. 
No truly, but you shall not, for I will not go to bed.  They seem earnest to have her to bed, and she to stay. Sage. 
What is the matter, Ladies, will not you let our Brides go to bed?  Female Guests. 
We desire to wait on them, and to help to undress them, but the Lady Coy will not go to bed.  Sage. 
Then pray go with my Bride.  One of the Ladies. 
Yes, if she please to go to bed.  Sage. 
Wife will not you go to bed?  virtue. 
Yes, if you please to have me.  Sage. 
'Tis my desire.  Exit Lady virtue, and some of the Ladies with her: Sir John Amorous comes and kisses his Bride. Amorous. 
Pray go to Bed.  Coy. 
Pray let me stay here.  Adviser. 
Faith, she would be carried to bed; carry your Wife to bed, Sir John Amorous.  Amorous. 
Not against her will, although against her consent.  Adviser. 
In words you mean.  Amorous. 
Come, Sweet-heart, I will usher you into your Chamber.  Exit Sir John Amorous, leading his Bride, who seems very unwilling to go, all the Company goeth with them, only Adviser and facile stay; facile fetches a sigh. facile. 
O how happy a man is Sir John Amorous! and how unhappy a man am I!  Adviser. 
Perchance two days hence, Sir J. Amorous will think himself as unhappy, as you think yourself now, for a great surfeit is as bad as a sharp hunger. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter the Lady virtue as in her Chamber, with some other female Guests; she seems to undress her self. Lady virtue. 
PRay Ladies help to undress me.  M. Mediator. 
That we will.  They unpin her Gorget. M. Mediator. 
Shall we fling the stockings when you and your Bridegroom are a bed?  L. virtue. 
Yes, if you please, Ladies.  M. Mediator. 
And shall we break the Bride-Cake over your head?  L. virtue. 
I must entreat you to omit that custom, as also setting a Sack-posset upon the bed; for the crumbs of Cake and drops of Posset, will be very ill bed-fellows; besides, it is not a cleanly Custom; but I have given order that all such Junkets shall be provided for you in another room, to make you merry, when I and my Husband are a bed.  M. Mediator. 
So I perceive, you will sand us away, as soon as you can.  L. virtue. 
I'll leave your staying, or going away, to your own discretion. Enter a Maid-Servant.  Servant. 
Madam, your Bridegroom hath sent to know, whether you be in Bed.  L. virtue. 
I shall be in a short time, tell him: Come Ladies, let us go into the Bed-chamber. Exeunt.  Enter Sir John Amorous, and his Bride, with the rest of the Female-Guests. Sir J. Amorous. 
Ladies, I shall leave my Bride with you, to help her to bed. Exit Sir J. Amorous.  M. Mediator. 
Come, Lady Coy, to morrow you will be Lady Amorous.  1 Lady. 
Why, do Wives never take their Husbands name till the day after Marriage?  M. Mediator. 
No, for the first day, they neither are called by their own, nor their Husbands name; but are called Brides, as an Interlude between both.  2 Lady. 
Come, come, undress the Bride.  M. Mediator. 
That we will soon do.  L. Coy. 
I will not be undressed.  1 Lady. 
What, Lady, will you lye in your Clothes?  M. Mediator. 
If she will lye in her Clothes, it will neither be easy, convenient, nor cleanly; but come, come, Lady we will undress you.  They offer to undress her, but she puts them back. L. Coy. 
I will not be undressed.  M. Mediator. 
Lady, give me leave to ask you, whether you married your Gown or your Person to your Husband?  L. Coy. 
My Person.  M. Mediator. 
Then pull off your Gown, and go unclothed to bed.  L. Coy. 
I would undress me, but I am ashamed to lye with a Man.  M. Mediator. 
That shane is very unnecessary at this time; wherefore cast it off with your Clothes.  L. Coy. 
I am afraid to lye by a Man.  M. Mediator. 
That fear is an effeminate fear, and will not last long; wherefore undress, undress, for Loves sake.  L. Coy. 
I must go, and say my Prayers first.  M. Mediator. 
Faith, Jove will dispense, with a Bride one night; the truth is, Bridal-Prayers are irreligious.  Enter a Maid in hast. Maid. 
Here comes the Bridegroom and all the Gentlemen attending him.  L. Coy. 
O! shut the door, shut the door, for Jupiters sake.  The Scene to shut the door, the Men knock. Adviser. 
Open the Door, and let the Bridegroom in.  M. Mediator. 
He cannot come as yet, the Bride's not a bed.  Sir J. Amorous. 
Let me come in, or I'll break open the door.  L. Coy. 
O keep him out, or I shall die for fear.  1 Lady. 
You shall not come, until we please.  facile. 
Let us come, or we will enter by force.  1 Lady. 
You shall not, for we will defend the breach.  Courtly. 
With what? with what?  2 Lady. 
With our Tongues and arms.  Courtly. 
Your Tongues are pointless and edgless, and your arms are weak defences.  M. Mediator. 
You shall find them otherwise; but pray Sir J. Amorous carry away your unruly Regiment, and we will promise you upon our words, and honours, that as soon as the Bride is in Bed, we will come to you and give you notice, then usher you into the Bride-bed, with Epithalamiums.  Sir J. Amorous. 
Upon condition that you will be speedy, I will depart.  Ladies. 
We will, we will: Come Lady Coy to bed, to bed, for shane. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Sir William Sage, with all the Gedtlemen, his Bridal-Guests, passing over the Stage, and going away again; after them comes Sir John Amorous, as going to bed in his Night-Gown, Madam Mediator and the Ladies usher him, and when he passes, this Epithalamium is sung. 

Epithalamium.  

NOw at the Door  
You'l stand no more,  
But enter the Bridal-bed:  
Where you will prove  
The Sweets of Love  
With God Hymen's banquet fed.   

Then Noble Knight  
Put out the Light,  
Her flaming Eyes will guide you;  
And in her arms  
Those Circled charms  
In Wedlock's Islands hid you.   

Now all the joys  
Of girls and Boyes,  
Of sweeter pledges sand you,  
And know no strife  
'Twixt Man and Wife,  
But all the Blessings sand you.    Exeunt. Enter Madam Fancy, and Sir Mercury Poet, coming out of the Bridal-Chamber together. Mercury. 
Madam Fancy do not you wish to be a Bride, and that this night were your Wedding night?  Fancy. 
I should be well content to be a Bride, and to have a Wedding day, conditionly the day would last to the end of my life; but mistake me not, I mean for the length of the day, not shortness of life.  Mercury. 
I perceive you would have no sleeping time.  Fancy. 
You mistake, I would have no Wedding night. Exeunt.    

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Enter facile and Adviser. Adviser. 
BUt are you seriously in love with the Lady Coy, the now Lady Amorous?  facile. 
Yes seriously, but I may despair I shall never compass my desires.  Adviser. 
Faith, it is not probable you should obtain them, but yet you had best try.  facile. 
That were but to plunge myself deeper into an unfortunate love.  Adviser. 
But a wise Man will omit no industry to compass his desires, neither do the Gods assist idle and cowardly Men.  facile. 
But she is not only new Married, but so guarded with Modesty and virtue, as unlawful love cannot get audience, much less a favour.  Adviser. 
Faith, if I were you, I would try in despite of her Modesty and virtue.  facile. 
I dare not.  Adviser. 
Fie! a Lover and a Coward! when the worst is but to be denied; but yet I would take many denials, before I would desist of my svit; and if you do not pursue it, you partly deny yourself.  facile. 
How should I make my love known unto her?  Adviser. 
By some Lady confident, or she-servant Favourite; as also by complimental Letters, and Love-Verses made in her praise; besides, making Balls and Collations to entertain her.  facile. 
I'll take your Counsel.  Enter mimic in hast. Adviser. 
But stay, here comes mimic the Lady Amorous Fool, who will be the fittest of all for this Employment; I'll speak to him: Stay, stay, honest friend, and let us speak a word or two.  mimic goes on in hast. mimic. 
God be with you, Sir.  Adviser. 
But will not you stay, a word or two?  mimic. 
Sir, I have stayed twice two, that is four; nay by the Mass it was six at least; for you have asked me twice to stay, till you speak a word or two, and a word, and a word, and two and two is six, by my Calculation; and if you speak a word and two more, it will make three times three, that is just nine, the Golden Number, if I be not mistaken.  Adviser. 
You are right, friend.  mimic. 
A right friend is a great friend, and a great friend is a good friend; and so God be with you, Sir.  Adviser. 
Nay stay and tell me, are not you the Lady Amorous mimic?  mimic. 
No truly, Sir, I am the Lady Vertue's mimic, and the Lady Amorous Fool.  Adviser. 
What, do you serve both the Ladies?  mimic. 
I am at both the Ladies service, Sir; God help me and give me Grace to please them well.  Adviser. 
Thou art an honest fellow.  mimic. 
But an honest fellow cannot serve two Mistresses, the more the pity!  Adviser. 
But you may serve this Gentleman, and he will serve thee; for if thou will but convey Letters, or can any way bring him to the private speech of the Lady Amorous, he will reward you bountifully.  mimic. 
I like the reward well; but I do not serve the Lady Amorous, but the Lady virtue; but she being my Ladies Friend, and her Maid my Friend, I shall do my endeavour to deserve his gifts. Exit mimic.  Adviser. 
Faith, I doubt not, but our design will go on well.  facile. 
I wish it may.  Exit facile at one door, and Adviser at another, who meets Take-pleasure as in hast. Adviser. 
Whether away so fast, Take-pleasure?  Take-pleas. 
I am going to a Company of Ladies that have sent for me.  Adviser. 
Let me go with you; for one Man can never please a company of Ladies; and surely it seems they are in great distress, otherwise they would not have sent for you in such hast.  Take-pleas. 
Not sent for me! why, what do you think of me?  Adviser. 
Why, I think you are a good fellow, and love a Mistress well; but I do not think you the Grand signor.  Take-pleas. 
If I were, you should not come near my Seraglio.  Adviser. 
But let me go with thee to these Ladies, for they are not in a Seraglio, nor never will be; they love their liberty so well.  Take-pleas. 
I am content, upon condition, you do not so much as look upon those Ladies I court.  Adviser. 
But how if these Ladies look upon me?  Take-pleas. 
Yes, there is the mischief; therefore you shall not go.  Adviser. 
But if you let me go, I'll promise you, I'll wink to those Ladies that look on me.  Take-pleas. 
Winking is more dangerous then if you should plainly woe them; for winking is a kind of Wooing, and will win a Lady as soon as words will do.  Adviser. 
Then I will shut both my eyes.  Take-pleas. 
That will be worse, for that will put them in mind of going to bed; it will be like sleeping.  Adviser. 
Prithee let me go, and order me as you will.  Take-pleas. 
welcome, and as we go I'll tell you, how you shall behave yourself to those Ladies.  Adviser. 
I will be governed according to your instructions. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter M. Mediator, and the Female-Guests, the day after the Wedding, to the Lady Amorous, who sits in a shaded place, and Curtains drawn about her, a Maid stands by. M. Mediator. 
WHere is the Lady Coy, the now Lady Amorous?  Maid. 
There; my Lady is within those Curtains.  M. Mediator. 
Why are you so benighted, as to have your Curtains drawn so darkly about you?  L. Amorous. 
I do not love the light.  M. Mediator. 
Are you fallen out with the light?  L. Amorous. 
In truth I am ashamed to see the light.  M. Mediator. 
Ashamed! let's see your face, whether you blushy or not?  The Lady offers to draw the Curtain, the Lady Amorous endeavours to hold it, and hideth her self behind it. L. Amorous. 
O fie! for Cupid and Venus sake do not look upon me, for if you do, I shall die with blushing.  Ladies. 
Come, come, we will see you.  L. Amorous. 
I'll rather run away.  She runs away, the Ladies follow her, and meet the Lady virtue. M. Mediator. 
Madam, we were a going to see how you appear, since you are a Wife.  L. virtue. 
I hope I do not appear worse then I did, when I was a Maid; for I have not been Married so long as to have Children, Cares and Troubles, to decay my Youth and Beauty.  M. Mediator. 
No, but we did imagine you would have been as most Brides are, shame-faced, and out of Countenance.  L. virtue. 
Why so, since Marriage is lawful, honest, and honourable? for if Marriage had been an act, that deserves a blushy, I would not have Married.  2 Lady. 
But the Lady Coy, the now Lady Amorous, your fellow-Bride, is so out of Countenance, and doth so blushy, as she is ashamed to appear in the light, and is forced to shut her eyes through shane, when her Husband looks upon her.  L. virtue. 
Why, hath she deceived her Husband? was she not a Virgin when she Married, that she is so out of Countenance as not to return her Husbands looks  2 Lady. 
No, it is, that she is so extreme modest.  L. virtue. 
Modesty is only ashamed of dishonesty, and not of that, which is honest to the Laws of God, Nature, and all civil Nations and People; but to answer for myself, if my Husband approves, likes, and is pleased with me, I have no reason to be out of Countenance; and I hope my virtue is such, as not to be ashamed of the light: But come Ladies, I have prepared a Banquet, to which I invite you, to join with me in rejoicing at my happy Union. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Monsieur Adviser, and Monsieur facile, to Monsieur Courtly, who is sitting at the Table, and writing. Monsieur Adviser. 
WHat! writing!  Courtly. 
I am casting up some Accounts.  Adviser. 
Faith, I will see what a good Husband you are.  He takes up the Paper. Courtly. 
That Paper is the account of yesterday's expense.  Adviser. 
I can judge by a day's expense a week's, and by a week's a year's.  Courtly. 
That you cannot, for some days and weeks are more expensive then others.  Adviser. 
Faith, at the years end several sums comes to one and the same yearly sum, as so much yearly spent.  Courtly. 
Indeed for the most part it doth.  Adviser. 
Leave your talking, and let me red your expenses, this is the yesterday's expense; let me see, here is the account of the expense of Ushering four Ladies.  
Imprimis, To a Sexton, to place four Ladies in several Pews in a Puritan Church, to hear a holy Brother preach, 2 Crowns.  
Item, For Sillibubs in the Park for those Ladies, 20 s.  
For two little baskets of Cherries, that hold some dozen Cherries a piece, but the first of this year, 15 s.  
To the Keeper of the Park-gate, half a Crown.  
Item. for Cheesecakes and Rhennish-Wine in the fine Garden for those Ladies, 20 s.  
To a Fortune-teller, to tell those Ladies their Fortunes, 40 s.  
Also to the Door-keeper of the Garden, half a Crown.  
Item. for a Supper for those Ladies at my Lodgings, 5 l.  
To the music, 3 l.  
For Torches to light those Ladies home to their Lodgings, 5 shall.  
The total comes to 13 l. 15 s.  
You might have saved the 5 s. for Torch-light, by keeping those Ladies all night in your Lodgings.  Courtly. 
I should have been a loser by that thrift.  facile. 
But do you spend every day thus much on Ladies?  Courtly. 
Not every day, but most days I do.  Adviser. 
And after one and the same manner, and in the same places, and with the same Ladies?  Courtly. 
No, I have variety for my money.  facile. 
Why, that is some comfort to you, and pleasure to the Ladies; but will it hold out?  Courtly. 
No, faith, for neither my purse nor person will hold out; wherefore I must leave off to play the Gentleman-usher to Ladies, and go into the Country.  Adviser. 
You had better be the fore-horse in a Cart, then first Gentleman-usher in a Coach; ushering is so laborious; besides, the intolerable charge; in so much that you may with less expense maintain a whole Village of Country Wives with their Daughters and Maid-servants, then entertain one Lady; moreover, those Villages will serve you, when as you are forced through civility to serve the Ladies.  Courtly. 
You say true; therefore I'll go into the Country.  Adviser. 
But will not those Ladies follow you?  Courtly. 
I cannot tell.  Adviser. 
Let me tell you, That is to be considered; and I would not have you go into the Country, for I and the rest of your friends would be sorry to lose your Company.  Courtly. 
Faith, the Ladies engross me so much, as I have no time to say my Prayers, or to think of myself, much less to keep Company with my friends.  Fa. 
It seems you do not take the Ladies to be your friends.  Courtly. 
If they be, they are very troublesone, and chargeable friends, which Friends, I could be well content to be quit off, if I could tell how or which way.  Adviser. 
There be a hundred ways to shake off those Ladies, if you will.  Courtly. 
No faith, I cannot; for they stick as close as burrs, unless I should rudely quarrel with them, and basely rail against them; and if I did, it would be a question still whether I should be quit of them?  Adviser. 
Let me advice you, how you may civilly be quit of them.  Courtly. 
I shall gladly follow your advice.  Adviser. 
Do not visit them, out of some pretence you are not well.  Courtly. 
If I do not visit them, they'l visit me.  Adviser. 
Then pretend some Law-suit.  Courtly. 
Faith, they will follow me, and go to all the Courts of Judicature, to hear my Cause pleaded and judged.  Adviser. 
Then go to a Tavern every day, they will not follow you thither.  Courtly. 
Yes faith, some of them will, at least to the Tavern door in their Coaches to require my Company; but howsoever, they will sand messenger after messenger to hasten me to them, pretending earnest business; and when I come, 'tis either to usher them to a Play, or to Church, or to the Exchange, or to the places of pleasure, or to the Fields, Park, or Garden, or else to some Ball, or particular meeting, or to some Picture-drawer, or to play at Cards, or the like; and to Man them to these places, they will sand to me, before I am up or awake; the truth is, they will not let me rest in quiet.  facile. 
But this is a slavish life.  Courtly. 
It is so.  Adviser. 
But do they never reward thy service, Courtly?  Courtly. 
Yes, as the Devil doth his Servants.  Adviser. 
How is that?  Courtly. 
With fire; for they sand me hot burning Spirits, which are called Cordials.  Adviser. 
It seems they think you want strength.  Courtly. 
I must needs, when they tyre me off my legs, ushering them from place to place.  facile. 
Do they give thee no Amorous favours?  Courtly. 
Yes; but they are better pleased, I should prevent them, and take favours from them before they are presented.  facile. 
But that is some recompense for thy time and charge.  Courtly. 
The recompense, if you call it so, is the worse; for I had rather give them my Estate, then receive their Rewards; for though they make their favours, as a reward to their Courting-servants; yet their rewards are their chief pleasures, and the rewarded pains, of their Courting servants, lose more health by their favours, then they get wealth in their service.  Adviser. 
The last advice is, You must be as if you were drunk.  Courtly. 
That advice is worst of all; for then they are so busy, and make such puddering about me, to lay me to sleep, as they make me almost mad.  Adviser. 
You have said so much, as I perceive your own advice is the best, to go into the Country; and if the Country will not save your body, life and estate, from these Locust-Ladies, you must travail into some other Kingdom.  Courtly. 
If I do, they will follow me; for Ladies are as far-travellers in this age, as the Men; and I know some Gentlemen that are followed by Ladies out of one Kingdom into another, so as they do not know whether to go, for the World is not sufficient to hid or obscure them from the Ladies search.  Adviser. 
Why, then most of the Men must turn friars, for that is to live in this world, as if they lived out of it.  Courtly. 
That shift will not serve their turn; for if the Cavaliers turn friars, the Ladies will turn Nunnes, and then make those friars their Confessors.  Adviser. 
Then there is no way for Men to escape those Ladies followers.  Courtly. 
Yes, there is one way.  Adviser. 
What way is that?  Courtly. 
You must excuse me, for I will not declare it. Exeunt.  Enter facile, and he speaks to himself. facile. 
I wonder mimic stays so long, and doth not bring me an answer yet, from the Lady Amorous.  Enter mimic. 
But here he is.  facile. 
Monsieur mimic! well met; have you delivered my Letter to the Lady Amorous?  mimic. 
Yes, Mr. facile, I did deliver it to her.  facile. 
And how did she receive it?  mimic. 
Faith, she received your Letter, as all Women do Love-Presents.  facile. 
How is that?  mimic. 
With an outward dislike, and an inward affection.  facile. 
If she received my Letter, with a displeased countenance, I judge she doth not love me.  mimic. 
Then your judgement is not wise; for love lives not in the countenance, but in the heart.  facile. 
But the Countenance expresses love; for a well pleased Countenance, expresses a well affencted heart.  mimic. 
If you ground your belief on a Womans Countenance, you will be deceived; for Womens Countenances for the most part are as false as their faces; the one is glast with smiles, as the other with Pomatum; and dissembling modesty is like Spanish read, which is soon rubbed off with acquaintance and jealousy; or a peevish humour wipes off their smiles; so that there is no trust in their Countenances; for they change every minute of an hour; wherefore, they are unskilful Men, and unhappy Lovers, that steer the course of their desires, by the carded of their Mistresses Countenances, which vary almost every moment, or by the Stars of their Mistresses eyes, which are wandring Planets. The truth is, most Lovers have troublesone Voyages in love, by reason all Womens minds are as inconstant as the wind.  facile. 
But I hope, by your favour and industry for me, to the Lady, my Voyage will be easy and free.  mimic. 
Do you believe I have power on your Mistress mind, as the Witches of Lapland have on the Winds?  facile. 
Faith, monkeys, Dogs, Parrots, and Fools, are powerful with Women, especially with Ladies.  mimic. 
Then deliver your Love-Letters to the Ladies Monkys, tell your Love-Messages to the Ladies Parrots, and give your Love-Collations to the Ladies Dogs, and your Love-bribes to my Ladies Fool.  facile. 
It is the easiest way; only to employ her Fool, and to encourage you, I give you five Pounds for the present, and more I promise you hereafter, to pled my svit, and to speak in my behalf.  mimic. 
Faith, your case is so bad, as it requires a witty and ingenuous knave to make it seem a good case, and an eloquent Orator to make it seem a clear case; for Oratory makes a foul case seem fair, and great fees makes an Orator's wit quick, and his tongue smooth.  facile. 
Well, I will trust to your Knavery, wish well to your Oratory, and hope Fortune will favour your Wisdom.  mimic. 
You mistake; for Fortune never favours wise Men, but Fools. Exit facile.  mimic. 
Well, craft shall serve for wisdom, and the chief part of my craft must be to Fool this Lover, or rather to cousin him; for Lovers are Fools of Cupid's making, and they wear Fools Coats in Cupid's Court.  Exeunt. Enter the Lady virtue, and Sir William mimic, who seems to be in a very serious study, not taking any notice of his Master and Lady. Sir W. Sage. 
Surely mimic has State-matters in his head, he is so studious and serious.  L. virtue. 
mimic?  He doth not answer. L. virtue. 
Why mimic, are you deaf?  mimic. 
I am somewhat thick of hearing.  Sir W. Sage. 
But mimic, let us know what is the cause you are in so serious a study.  mimic. 
I am considering with myself, what profession I shall be of.  L. virtue. 
And what Profession have you chosen to be of?  mimic. 
I have not chosen any as yet, for I waver in my mind amongst many Professions, as an amorous Lover doth amongst many Ladies, not resolving which to address himself to; for though he would enjoy them all, yet he can court but one at a time; and though he resolveth to court all, yet he can but enjoy one at a time.  Sir W. Sage. 
But he may court and enjoy them all, one after another.  mimic. 
Faith, that is an endless work; for before the last Lady is courted and enjoyed, he will be forced to be of the Profession of a Priest, to preach his own funeral Sermon, or of a Sexton, to dig his own grave: But leaving Priests and amorous Lovers, what Profession shall I be of?  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a Courtier?  mimic. 
There are so many Court-fools, that they never thrive with that Profession; for what they get by flattery, they spend in vanity.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a Lawyer?  mimic. 
The Law is more of the Knaves then the Fool's side, therefore I shall never thrive in that Profession.  Sir W. Sage. 
What think you of being a Merchant?  mimic. 
I could traffic with Jest, but I am afraid in some of my Ventures I should have my head broken; therefore, I will not be of that Profession.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a States-man?  mimic. 
Faith, I think I am fool enough to be a States-man, but I have not Formality enough; besides, I shall make such disorders and disturbances in State-affairs, as I may chance to be killed in an uproar or seditious Tumult.  Sir W. Sage. 
What think you of being a Soldier?  mimic. 
No, for I am more safe from danger in my Fools Coat, then they in their Iron-arms; and shall get more by a Fool's Profession, then a Soldiers.  Sir W. Sage. 
What think you of being a Scholar?  mimic. 
That I am now; for I learn every day to play the Fool better and better.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a City-Magistrate?  mimic. 
I like that the best; for my Fools Coat will serve for my Magistrates Gown; but yet I am afraid of the Common-people in these seditious times.  Sir W. Sage. 
What think you of being a Traveller?  mimic. 
O Lord! so I may travail to my wits end.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a chemist?  mimic. 
Faith, I get more Gold by playing the Fool with Lords and Ladies, then chemists do by playing the Fools with Fire and Furnace.  Sir W. Sage. 
Then I think you had best continue your own Profession still, which is to play the Fool.  mimic. 
But my Profession of playing the Fool is a general Profession, and I would fain have a particular Profession; for there are few Men but have some other Profession besides their Natural Profession; Wherefore, I must study some other Profession.  L. virtue. 
What do you think then of being a Vintner?  mimic. 
My Guests will drink up my Wine, and leave me their Scores; lye with my Wife, and give her the Pox; and if I have not a handsome Woman to my Wife, I shall have no Guests.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being a tailor?  mimic. 
I shall have only my Measures for my pains, and the shreds for my labour.  Sir W. Sage. 
What think you of being a Usurer?  mimic. 
So a Fool and his Money would be soon partend, and I shall have bonds for my Money; but a hundred to one if I get my Money by the bonds.  L. virtue. 
What think you of being an Amorous Lover?  mimic. 
I shall woe more Mistresses, then I shall win, and win more Mistresses then I shall use.  L. virtue. 
But you may get a rich Wife, if you woe well.  mimic. 
If I should woe the best of any Man, I shall sooner get the Pox with a Mistress, then Wealth with a Wife; for Fortune is the only Match-maker.  Sir W. Sage. 
But there is a saying, That Fools have Fortune.  mimic. 
Not all fools; for there be more Fools then good fortune; the truth is, There are so many Fools, as it is impossible for Fortune to favour them all.  L. virtue. 
But Fortune may favour those that are most foolish.  mimic. 
Then she will not favour me; wherefore I'll reject Fortune, rely upon my own wit.  L. virtue. 
Your Wit is so weak, as it cannot uphold you.  mimic. 
I'll try the strength of it, and when I fall for want of Wit, it is a proper time for Fortune to raise me up to show her power.  Sir W. Sage. 
Well, we will leave you to your study, and when you have chosen a Profession, I suppose you will make us acquainted with it.  mimic. 
No doubt of it; for you must help to put me into practise. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Longlife, and Mr. Aged. Aged. 
Longlife. How are you since you went abroad,  Long. 
Very well, I thank you Mr. Aged.  Aged. 
I am now come to you, to ask you a question, whether you would not think it were wise for us, we having only two Children you, a Son and I a Daughter, to match them together, and so we being both rich, we may join our Estates together, by joining our Children together which will make them both flow in plenty,  Long. 
I like your proposition, concerning the joining our riches together, by joining our Children together: But my Son is a Wit, Mr. Aged, and your Daughter I hear is a Wit; and if their wits be joined together, it may over power their Wealth; for Wit and Wealth doth never agree together; For wit regards not Wealth, and wealth regards not wit; which is the reason that those, which have most Wit,( which are Poets) are poor; For you shall seldom red, or hear, That natutal Poets are rich. And both our Children being Poetical, should we mary them together, would undo them.  Aged. 
By the Mass, you say true.  Long. 
Then we must endeavour to mary our Children to fools; you must provide a foolish man for your Daughter, and I a foolish woman for my Son; That the dullness of the Fool, may alloy the quickness of the Wit, which will make a good temper, causing them to thrive in wealth, and to increase Posterity; for let me tell you, That great Wits for the most part have few Children, but what their brain produces, which are Ideas, Inventions and Opinions; Ideas are Daughters; Inventions are Sons, and Opinions Hermaphrodites; and the production of these Incorporeal Children, hinders the production of Corporeal Children; and we both desire to have Corporeal grandchidren to uphold our Families.  Aged. 
You say wisely, Mr. Long-life; and therefore, we must endeavour to mary our Children to Fools, for the Wealth and Posterities of our Families. Exeunt.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter Sir John Amorous, and his Lady. LAdy. 
Sir John, Sir John, I take it very unkindly, that you should go abroad, and leave my Company?  Sir J. Amor. 
Sometimes, Wife, to be absent from each other, is a refreshment, and Temperance is part of Prudence.  Lady. 
I love not such Refreshments, Temperance, and Prudence; wherefore, you must either stay at home and keep me Company, or I shall seek other Company elsewhere.  Exit Lady. Sir J. Amorous Solus. Sir J. Amor. 
That will be some ease; for I had rather be a cuckolded then be bound to one Woman, especially my Wife.  Enter his Wife's Maid. Sir J. Amor. 
Mal, I'll prefer thee.  Maid. 
I thank you, Master.  Sir J. Amor. 
I'll prefer thee from my Servant, to be my Mistress.  Maid. 
If you had been unmarried, and would prefer me from being your Mistress, to be your Wife, I should have taken it for an honour.  Sir J. Amor. 
But I am Married, Mal, and thou shalt take thy Ladie's place, in thy Ladie's absence.  Maid. 
I had rather mary Tom your Butler lawfully, then lye with my Master unlawfully.  Sir J. Amor. 
Why, Mal, Love is lawful, and to serve your Master is lawful; wherefore, it is lawful to serve your Master's Love.  Maid. 
But some kinds of Love are unlawful, and some kinds of Service are unlawful; for it is unlawful to love 'vice, and unlawful to serve the Devil; wherefore it is unlawful to be my Master's Whore.  Sir J. Amor. 
To be your Master's Whore, is to be your Master's Mistress; and to be the Butler's Wife, is to be the Butler's Slave; but I'll leave you to the Butler's droppings of his Taps: But howsoever, Consider it well, Mal, for you will be good enough for the Butler afterwards. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Sir William Sage and his Lady. Sir William Sage. 
I Wonder that mimic is not here! for his Company is very delightful, to pass away idle; time for idle time is only free for Fools Company.  Lady. 
He is rather a Knave then a Fool; but here he comes.  Enter mimic. Sir W. Sage. 
mimic, have you chosen a Profession yet?  mimic. 
Yes, mary have I, for I intend to be an Orator.  Sir W. Sage. 
If you be a professed Orator, I suppose you have studied a speech.  mimic. 
Yes, I have studied, as Orators use to do, in making an Oration; for I have racked my Brain, stretched my Wit, strapado'd my Memory, tortured my thoughts, and kept my Sences awake.  Sir W. Sage. 
Certainly, it is a very eloquent and wise Oration, since you have taken so much pains.  mimic. 
Labour and Study is not a certain rule for wise, witty, or eloquent Orations or Speeches; for many studied Speeches are very foolish: But will you hear my Speech?  Sir W. Sage. 
I will.  mimic. 
But then Master, you must stand for, signify, or represent a Multitude, or an Assembly.  Sir W. Sage. 
That is impossible, being but a single person.  mimic. 
Why doth not a single Figure stand for a Number, as the Figure of Five, Eight or Nine, and joining cyphers to them, they stand for so many Hundreds, or Thousands: And here be two Joint-Stools, one of which Stools and you Lady shall serve for two cyphers and my Master for the Figure of Nine, and so you two and the Joint-Stool make Nine hundred.  Sir W. Sage. 
But if the Assembly be so big, as to be a Company of Nine hundred they cannot all stand so near, as to hear what you speak, neither ean your voice reach to the Circumferent Ears.  mimic. 
The greatest Glory of an Orator is to have crowds of People follow him, and those that hear the least will praise him the most; and the truth is, That all Orators gain more renown by those that do not hear them, but only see them, then by those that stand so near, as to hear what they speak; for there is ten to one of those that do not hear them, to those that do hear them; So that if those that do hear them, should dispraise their Orations, yet those that hear them not, will commend them, and having ten to one of their side, they may say what they will, they shall be applauded, and the most Voices carry them up to Fame's Tower; which considering, I will set another Joint-stool as another Cipher to my Lady, and three cyphers, with the Figure of Nine, my Master, will make it Nine thousand.  Sir W. Sage. 
As many as you please.  mimic. 
But what shall I have for a Pulpit or standing place? for I must mount above all the Assembly?  Lady. 
Take another Joint-stool, and stand upon that.  mimic. 
O fie! that will not appear well; besides, I shall stand tottering, ready to fall, and the very fear of falling, will put me out of my Speech.  Lady. 
But you will appear standing upon a Joint-stool, like as a Statue upon a Pedistal.  mimic. 
I should be well pleased to have a Statue made for me, and set up as an honour and remembrance of me; but I shall not be pleased to stand as a Statue myself.  Sir W. Sage. 
Why then get a Tub; and stand in that.  mimic. 
A Tub will not do me any service, unless it be a mounted Tub. But for this time I'll stand upon the Table, without Tub or Case, to speak the naked truth; and thus I ascend.  He ascends upon the Table. Lady. 
Begin.  mimic. 
Stay, I must breath first, hawk, spit, blow my nose, humm, and look gravely round about upon the People, and then speak at first in a low voice, then raise my Voice by degrees, until I come to the highest strain or point.  He Speaks. 
NOble, Honourable, and Worthy Auditors, I am come here to speak of a Subject which concerns all Men; which General Subject is Women; and I am not only to Treat of Women, which is an easy Subject to be Treated of; but of the Chastity of Women, which is an hard, frozen Subject; and so hard frozen it is, that all the heat Love can bring is not able to thaw it; the truth is, Chastity is a Subject, that lives at a great distance; for though the two Names, Woman and Chastity, are oft-times joined together, yet the several Subjects of those Names, dwell not near each other; for Chastity dwells at the Poles, where no Woman is; and Women dwell or inhabit the Torrid Zone, where no Chastity is: Thus you may perceive that Names are more easily joined, then the things they signify; but how to bring Chastity and Women together, is the difficulty, indeed so difficult as it is impossible; and as impossible as for hot Hell and could Heaven to meet, or for gods and devils to be friends: But noble Auditors the Names Chast Women being joined together, are sufficient; for that Conjunction of Names contents, satisfies and pleases all Men, as Fathers, Sons, Brothers and Husbands, that would have their Daughters, Sisters, Mothers and Wives Chast; and as for Amorous Lovers, they are pleased to have the Subjects dwell at distance; so that Art and Nature, Deceit and Verity have agreed together to make all Men happy, so far as concerns Women.  Lady. 
Leave off your Prating, or I'll fling one of these cyphers at your head.  mimic. 
Will not you let me speak out my Oration?  Lady. 
No, unless it were better.  mimic. 
If you will let me speak out my Speech, I'll make the two Poles meet in the very forehead of the Torrid Zone of a Man's head.  Lady. 
I'll hear no more; wherefore, come off from the Table.  mimic. 
Well, I obey, although I am vexed at the heart, that I must not speak out my Speech, as also to be disgraced before an Assembly of Nine thousand.  Lady. 
You knavish Fool, what cause invited, persuaded, or commanded you to speak an Oration concerning the Chastity of Women?  mimic. 
That which persuaded me to speak an Oration, and not only an Oration, but a factious or malicious Oration was that which persuaded all Orators; first, felf-love to show their Wit; next, their ill Nature to make a division and dissension amongst Mankind.  Lady. 
Well, since you have expressed the evil Orators of these evil times, such as make Factions and Divisions; I will express such Orators as ought to be; and thus I'll speak to this Assembly.  She Speaks. 
NOble, Honourable and Worthy Auditors, I am come here to contradict a Knavish Fool, that has spoken to the Disgrace of Women; saying, That only the Names of Women and Chastity are joined together, but the Subjects dwell far asunder; which is false; for though some Women, as the scum of the Female Sex, be Incontinent, yet all Women are not so; for some Women are Chast by Nature, others by virtue, and some by Honour: As for virtue and Honour, they are like to Plants set or planted by Education, and grow up like to tall Cedars or strong Oaks in the Mind, which bear no evil fruits; as Vices and base qualities, or evil and dishonest desires: But Worthy Auditors, give me leave to tell you, That Women are the unhappiest Creatures which Nature ever made; not only that they are the most shiftless Creatures, but the most abused of any other Creatures, and only by Men; who do not only continually assault them, and endeavour to corrupt and betray them, but they have enslaved them, and do often defame them with slanders and reproaches, vain glorious boasts, and lying brags; the truth is, Men are like Devils to Women, seeking whom they may devour; enticing, alluring, persuading and flattering Women, to the ruin of their Souls, Bodies, Minds, Fortunes, and good Names; but Women are beloved and favoured by the gods, who due their Bodies with Beauty, and their Minds with Spiritual Grace, their Thoughts with Religious Zeal, and their Lives with Pious Devotions; which keeps their Bodies Chast, their Minds pure, and their Lives virtuous: But those few Women that are Incontinent, are rather Beasts then Women; but most Women are Angelical; and though Men defame them, yet the Gods glorify them.  mimic. 
Lady, if you speak any longer of the Female Subject, you will cast them from Heaven into Hell; for you cannot go beyond Heaven, Angels and Gods.  Lady. 
I am content to speak no more of them at this time, but leave them in bliss.  Sir W. Sage. 
mimic, your Lady will be too hard for you.  mimic. 
Yes in Foolery, but not in Wit. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Monsieur Adviser, and Monsieur Courtly. Monsieur Courtly. 
WHere were you, that I did not see you all yesterday, nor most part of this day?  Adviser. 
Faith, I was all the Morning at a Sermon, and at Noon I went to a Tavern, in the Afternoon I went to a Play, and at night I went to a Common-house, and from thence I went to the Gaming-house, and there I stayed till late in the Morning; and then I went home, and lay and slept so long, as I have but newly dined.  Courtly. 
Dined, say you! why it is almost Supper-time.  Adviser. 
Not with me.  Courtly. 
No; for you turn the Day into Night, and Night into Day.  Adviser. 
I did not so yesterday.  Court. 
Yes, but you did; for you spent all the day in deeds of darkness.  Adviser. 
Will you say, that hearing a Sermon is a dead of darkness?  Courtly. 
Yes, unless you did profit by it, which I do not perceive you did; the truth is, by your after-actions you seem the worse for it.  Adviser. 
I'll confess to you, my friend, that the Sermon made me so dull and melancholy, as I was forced to go to a Tavern, to revive and comfort my Mind with some Spiritual liquour; and from thence I went to a Play to recreate my Thoughts, and to take them from all sad Contemplations, in seeing and hearing a merry Comedy acted; and the truth is, the Play made me so lively, as I became so wanton, that I was forced to go to a Common-house, and after I had conversed with the Woman, I was as dull and melancholy as I was after the Sermon; so then I went to the Gaming-house for diversion, knowing I should meet store of Company; and being there, I fell to play, where I lost all my Money; for which I was so troubled, as I wish myself dead, having not any Money left to live; and being moneyless, I went home to bed, that I might sleep and forget my loss for a time.  Courtly. 
But did not the thoughts of the loss hinder your sleep?  Adviser. 
No faith; for my thoughts were so oppressed with grief, as they fell fast asleep, and so fast asleep they were, as I did not dream.  Courtly. 
But now they are awake, they remember your losses, do they not?  Adviser. 
Yes, but I will persuade you to go with me to the Tavern, there to drink out the remembrance.  
For when my head is filled with Vaporous Wine,  
My thoughts for Losses will not then repined.  Enter Take-pleasure to Adviser and Courtly. Courtly. 
Tom, Thou art welcome.  Take-pleas. 
Go hang yourself, for you are not a Man of your word, for you promised to meet me at the Crown-Tavern, where I stayed for you till twelve a Clock last night, expecting your coming.  Courtly. 
And how did you pass away the solitary time?  Take-pleas. 
Faith, I called for some Tobacco, and a pint of Wine, and then I took a Pipe, then drunk a glass of Wine, and you did not come; then I took another Pipe, and drunk another glass of Wine, and you did not come; so I took Pipe after Pipe, and drunk Glass after Glass, until the Pint-pot was empty; then I called for another Pint, and another Pint, and drunk them as the first; and still you stayed, and still I drunk so long as I was almost drunk, expecting your Company; but at last finding my stomach full, and my head light, and the night far spent I went home and so to bed.  Adviser. 
Without saying your Prayers?  Take-pleas. 
Faith, I could not say my Prayers for Cursing of Courtly; but at last I fell asleep with a Curse in my mouth, which Curse I found in my mouth when I did awake in the morning.  Adviser. 
Did you swallow the Curse down, or spit it out?  Take-pleas. 
Faith, it had almost choked me; for it stuck so in my Throat, as I could neither get it up, nor down, but at last I spit it out, for it was as bitter as gull.  Courtly. 
You had no reason to curse me, if you were drunk; for the only design of our meeting at the Tavern, was but to be drunk.  Take-pleas. 
That is true; but there is no pleasure to be drunk without a Companion.  Courtly. 
The truth is, I could not come; for I was forced against my will to Sup with a Lady.  Take-pleas. 
Faith, Women spoil all good fellowship; but I had been better Company for her last night, then you were.  Courtly. 
Come, come, let us go to the same Tavern, and there end all Quarrels. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Monsieur facile, and mimic. Monsieur facile. 
MAster mimic, I am come according to your appointment.  mimic. 
Then Mr. facile you may depart according to my appointment.  facile. 
But you assured me, That if I came at this hour, I should have access to your Lady.  mimic. 
But Women change their mind every minute, and are in threescore several minds or humors in an hour; and this minute the Lady is in a very angry humour, which will not agree with your amorous humour.  facile. 
But I'll stay until her angry humour is past.  mimic. 
Then you may stay until you be weary; for she will change out of one angry humour into another, until she hath run out an hour; for there be many several kinds and sorts of angry Humors.  facile. 
But I will stay an hour.  mimic. 
But if you do, it is not likely that the Lady will be in a humour to entertain your Courtly address; for it is probable, as being most usual, that from the last angry humour, she will change into the first degree of a Melancholy humour.  facile. 
Then I will attend two hours, until such time as she will be out of her Melancholy humour.  mimic. 
That will not do you any service; for out of the last Melancholy humour she will change into a pious humour, and so from one pious humour into another, until such time as she comes to weep like a Mary Magdalen, and after floods of Tears she will fall fast asleep; her Sences and Spirits being tired with Kneeling, Praying, Sighing and Weeping, and after she awakes from her devout sleep, she may chance to bestow a Charity upon you.  facile. 
I'll attend in hope of that Charity.  mimic. 
I perceive by you, that Lovers will take no excuses or denials; but yet this last I hope will drive you away, which is, The Lady has the Wind-collock; wherefore she will not admit of a visit, especially Amorous suitors this day.  facile. 
By this I find that you have filled me with hope, to delude me.  mimic. 
Let me tell you, that Love is the greatest Deluder, or Cheater, especially Amorous Love; but to keep you from despair, I'll promise you( for Promises keep Lovers alive) I will device some way to corrupt this Lady to your desires, although it requires much labour, study, wit, and time, to corrupt Chastity; and since my Service will be great, my Reward must not be small.  facile. 
Then here I give you Ten pounds to reward your Knavery.  Exit facile, mimic Solus. mimic. 
Why, this is right as it should be, for one Knave to Fee another, that Knavery may thrive.  Exeunt. Enter Sir Mercury Poet, and the Lady Fancy. Merc. 
Madam, I take it for a great favour and obligation, that you will receive my visit.  Fancy. 
It would be an Obligation to myself, to oblige a worthy person, such as I believe you are, but I do not perceive how I can merit thanks in receiving your Visit, for I suppose you can better pass your time, then with my dull Company, and unprofitable Conversation.  Merc. 
It is a particular favour, because you do not not usually receive Visits.  Fancy. 
The reason why I do not usually receive Visits, is out of a respect to the visitors, knowing I have not Wit to entertain them, Speech to delight them, nor Learning to profit them; so they would but lose their time in visiting me; and I choose rather to loaf the profit I might gain by hearing wise, witty, and learned visitors; then they should lose their time by learning nothing themselves; for Wisdom and Wit desires to advance in knowledge, and not to stand at a stay; for though prating Fools take pleasure to inform, and formal Fools to reform; yet wise Men delight to be informed and reformed, through a noble ambition to attain to perfecton.  Merc. 
Which Perfection, Madam, you have arrived to.  Fancy. 
That is impossible, for Nature hath made Women so defective, as they are not capable of Perfection.  Merc. 
Madam, my Soul is wedded to your virtue, and my Contemplations to your Fancy, and my Love and Person longs to be wedded to your Beauty and Chastity.  

And if our Wits agree,  
I'm sure you'l favour me.  
For Wit the Brain doth move,  
And causes Souls to love:  
For Fools cannot love well,  
Nor reason for Love tell;  
They understand not Merit,  
Nor a celestial Spirit.   Enter Mr. Aged. Aged. 
How is that! Merit, Spirit, and I know not what! Daughter, I am come to forbid you the Company of Sir Mercury Poet, and that you receive not any of his Visits: And Sir Mercury Poet, I do forbid you my Daughters Company.  Merc. 
Sir, I have not visited your Daughter, without your leave; for you were pleased to invite me to wait on your Daughter.  Aged. 
'Tis true, for I did believe,( by reason your Father and I being old acquaintance, and loving friends, and both being rich, and having Children, he a Son, and I a Daughter) it might be very proper and fit to have agreed to have matched you together; but since your Father and I having debated and considered well upon the Case, we find it no ways profitable for either.  Merc. 
Where is the disadvantage or hindrance?  Aged. 
Your Wit.  Merc. 
Is Wit a Crime?  Aged. 
It ought to be made Criminal; for it is not only unprofitable, but ruinous; not any person thrives that has it; and it makes those that are rich, poor; and those that are poor, uncapable to be rich.  Merc. 
They that have Wit, need no other wealth, Sir.  Enter Longlife. Aged. 
Mr. Longlife, I find now your words true, That Wit regards not Wealth; for your Son says, That Wit is Wealth enough of itself.  Longl. 
Yes, yes, Mr. Aged; but he will find, Wit cannot buy Land, unless he joins Knavery to it.  Merc. 
True Wit is always just, and honest, it knows no double dealing; and honour is the ground on which it builds a famed.  Longl. 
But if you have no other ground, nor other building, but Honour and famed, you may beg for your livelihood, or starve for want of bread.  Merc. 
I had rather die for want of bread, then live without honourable famed; and Fortune's goods are poor to those that Nature gives.  Longl. 
O Mr. Aged, I am unhappy, undone; for I perceive my Posterity will be all Beggars: And therefore, if you will not change your Principles soon, I will disinherit you.  Merc. 
You cannot, Sir; for though you may give away your Land, you cannot give away my Wit( if I have any.)  Longl. 
If I cannot, I will mary you to a Fool; so that though you be poor, your Children may be rich.  Merc. 
If you please, Sir, and Mr. Aged consent, I desire I may mary this Lady.  Longl. 
No, no, Son she hath Wit, I know by her silence, otherwise her tongue would have run a race in this time.  Fancy. 
I can speak Sir, but I doubt I have not Wit to speak well.  Longl. 
Nay, if you talk of Wit, you are not for my Son.  Fancy. 
Your Son hath so much Wit, that what Woman soever he Marries, cannot continue a Fool long, for she will get Wit from him, and yet he will have no less, for Nature still supplies his store.  Longl. 
But my grandchidren may be Fools, if my Son's Wife be none of Natures witty Daughters.  Fancy. 
His Children cannot be Fools; for Wit begets Wit, although a Fool should be the breeder.  Longl. 
Good Mr. Aged, lock up your Daughter, until I have sent my Son to travail; for otherwise we shall ruin our Posterities. Exeunt.    

ACT IV.  

SCENE I.  Enter Lady Amorous, Lady virtue, and Madam Mediator. Lady Amorous. 
MAdam, what makes you so fine to day? and not only your person is finer, but your house is finer trimmed and tricked, then usually it was; have you a Servant to visit you to day?  L. virtue. 
No, but I have a Master that is to come out of the Country to day.  L. Amor. 
Who is your Master?  L. virtue. 
My Husband, who comes home to day.  L. Amor. 
Do you make yourself and your house so fine only for your Husband?  L. virtue. 
Only for my Husband, say you! Why, he is the only Man that I desire to appear fine to; and the only person I desire to please and delight.  M. mediate. 
But Husbands take no notice of the bravery of their Wives.  L. virtue. 
Howsoever, it is the part of every good wife to express, on all occasions, their Love and Respect to their Husbands; in their absence to mourn, at their return to rejoice, and in their Company to be best pleased.  M. mediate. 
Love, Respect and Duty, are only expressible in Humors, Words and Service, and not in Habit.  L. virtue. 
But Joy is expressed in habit, as much as mourning; witness Triumphs and Triumphant shows; and Triumphs of Joy, and Funerals, are not alike.  M. mediate. 
All Noble Persons are butted in Triumphs.  L. virtue. 
Indeed they are butted with Ceremony, but it is such Ceremony as expresses Dolor, not Joy; for they are followed with black Mourners, and weeping eyes: But however, I endeavour to appear to my Husband, at his returning home, like a gay and joyful Bride, and not as a sad mourning Widow.  L. Amor. 
Let me not live, Lady virtue, if you be not the most simplo Woman alive.  L. virtue. 
In what?  L. Amor. 
First, That you can take pleasure in the dull Company of a Husband; next, That you do not delight yourself with the Gallants of the Times; and thirdly, That you do not only spoil your own Husband, but all other Womens Husbands, with your example; for which folly, you ought to be condemned by all our Sex.  L. virtue. 
If they condemn me for my virtue, I will despise them for their Vices.  L. Amor. 
But 'vice is a virtue in this age; ask Madam Mediator else.  L. virtue. 
What say you, Madam Mediator?  M. mediate. 
I say, that 'vice was never so confident as it is now, nor never so glorified as it is now, nor never so beloved as it is now, nor never so practised as it is now.  L. Amor. 
Well, since 'vice is so beloved, and virtue despised, I will go to a merry Meeting. Come, Madam Mediator, you'l make one, although Lady virtue will not. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Monsieur facile, and mimic. mimic. 
MOnsieur facile, I have tired my Legs, and worn out the Soles of my shoes to find you out, to give you a Letter from the Lady Amorous.  facile. 
I am sorry you have taken such pains.  mimic. 
You may requited my pains when you please; but here is the Letter.  He receives the Letter. facile. 
Faithful mimic! happy facile! divine Lady! delicious Letter!  He kisses the Letter. mimic. 
What delicious pleasure do you receive in that Kiss, Monsieur facile?  facile. 
As much pleasure as Joy can give me.  He opens the Letter. 
What is this, a plain sheet of Paper! you Rogue, do you abuse and cousin me?  mimic. 
Did not you give me Ten pound to reward my Knavery? for which I should be ungrateful, should I not be a Knave to you; but yet you have no reason to be angry for this unlettered Paper, which is the royall'st Kindness, and most generous Present, the Lady could sand you; for she has sent you a blank to writ down your own desires, demands, or condition of agreement, love and friendship.  facile. 
If it be so, I ask you Pardon, and will requited your fidelity with Gold.  mimic. 
I'll take your requital.  facile. 
Pray go with me to my Lodgings, and there I'll writ in this white Paper, that came from the whiter hands of my Mistress, my love and affections, and you shall guide it unto her.  mimic. 
You must ballast the Letter with Gold, or otherwise it will be drowned in the returning-Voyage.  facile. 
I will. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Lady Amorous, and two or three other Ladies. First Lady. 
LAdy Amorous, Marriage has made you a boon Companion.  L. Amor. 
I was a Novice before I married; but now I find that there is no pleasure, like Liberty, Mirth and good Company.  1 Lady. 
You say true, Lady, for a Stoical life is the worst life in the World.  2 Lady. 
But the Lady virtue, and Sir W. Sage live the life of stoics.  L. Amor. 
The more Fools they; but my Husband and I, live the life of Libertines; for he takes his pleasure, and I take mine: Have you sent for Mr. Courtly?  2 Lady. 
Yes, there are at least half a score Messengers sent one after another to invite him hither.  Enter Monsieur Courtly. L. Amor. 
O Sir! you're welcome, we were even now a wishing for you to go abroad with us.  Court. 
I account myself happy, Ladies, that I am come according to your wishes, as also to do you service.  1 Lady. 
We did sand a dozen Messengers for you.  Courtly. 
I did happily meet them, Madam.  1 Lady. 
But whether shall we go?  Courtly. 
Where you please, Lady; for I am ready at your service.  2 Lady. 
Let us go to the Great Park.  L. Amor. 
No, let us go to the Fruit-Garden.  2 Lady. 
No faith, upon better Consideration, let us stay and play at Cards.  L. Amor. 
That is dull; rather let us sand for fiddlers, and Dance.  1 Lady. 
We have not Men enough to dance, and Mr. Courtly cannot dance with us all.  Courtly. 
I'll do my endeavour, Ladies.  2 Lady. 
No, let us hire a Barge, and row upon the Water.  L. Amor. 
No, let us go and Sup at the Tavern at the Bridg-foot; what say you, Mr. Courtly, will you entertain us?  Courtly. 
Yes, Lady, as well as I can.  1 Lady. 
Let us go.  2 Lady. 
No, let us first draw lots, and let Fortune decide the place of our Recreations.  L. Amor. 
Content; but which lot shall carry it?  1 Lady. 
The long lot.  2 Lady. 
The short lot.  1 Lady. 
I say the long lot.  L. Amor. 
Let the most Voices carry it.  Courtly. 
Ladies, if I might persuade you, it should be at the Tavern at the Bridg-foot, and there you shall have the best Meat, Wine and music, that place affords.  All. 
Content, content.  Exeunt.  

SCENE IV.  Enter Monsieur facile and Monsieur Adviser. Monsieur Adviser. 
facile, how do you prosper in Loves Adventures?  facile. 
More happily then I could imagine, for she receives my Letters, and returns me Answers.  Adviser. 
Then you shall not need to despair, since you have such encouragement.  facile. 
No faith, for now I fear she will be kinder then I would have her; for she has consented to a private meeting.  Enter Take-pleasure as in hast. Adviser. 
Whether away in such hast, Tom?  Take-pleas. 
Faith, Courtly has sent his Footman to me in such hast, as the poor fellow is almost melted with the heat he has with running, to bring me a note from his Master, who writes to me, that of all love and friendship I should speedily come to him, and to bring half a dozen other Gentlemen with me to the Tavern, to help him to entertain a Company of Ladies, otherwise he shall die in their service; wherefore, prithee Adviser, and facile, go with me thither.  facile. 
Faith, we cannot, for we have other business.  Take-pleas. 
The same answer I have had from a dozen other Gentlemen, and cannot persuade any one to go; wherefore, I fear my friend Courtly will be over-powered by those many Ladies.  Adviser. 
Why would Courtly engage himself to so many Women?  Take-pleas. 
Alas, he could not help it; for they sent so many Messengers to desire him to come to them, as he was almost smothered in the crowd, so that he was forced as it were, to go out in his own defence; but he finds that the Company of Ladies is worse then the number of Messengers, for he hath leaped out of the Frying-pan into the fire.  Adviser. 
I confess Men can hardly avoid the Females, and are more tormented with them then Beggars are with Lice, or a Horse with Flies; for since the Wars, numbers of Women do swarm about one Man, as Bees about a honey-pot.  Take-pleas. 
I confess it, and I fear my Friend Courtly will be devoured; wherefore, for Charity, go with me, and help him in distress, and I'll engage that he and I will do the like for either, or both of you.  Adviser. 
Upon that condition we are content; then let us go with all speed Exeunt.  Enter Sir Mercury Poet to the Lady Fancy, whom He finds Weeping. Merc. 
Sweet Mistress! let not our Parents folly Be a cause to make us Melancholy:  

For Natures, Fates, and mighty gods above  
Did make, Decree, and cause our Souls to love;  
Then do not mourn, or cloud your Eyes with Tears,  
But banish from your Mind all Griefs and Fears;  
For still our Loving Souls will constant be,  
celestial powers have joined in that Decree.   L. Fancy. 
But at full Moon, the winds blow high,  
And in the wain they silent lye.  
So doth a Lover's full grieved Mind  
Cause storms of Passions, like as Wind,  
Beating the Thoughts, like Clouds about,  
Which being prest, Tears streameth out.  Merc. 
But when that Grief is in the wain  
The Mind is smooth, and calm again;  
Thoughts are serene, Joy shineth clear;  
The Eyes are fair, no Tears appear:  
But if that you with me consent,  
Our Parents follies we'l prevent  
With holy Ceremony, bind so sure  
In Sacred Marriage, shall for life endure.  L. Fancy. 
I do consent to be your Wife.  
For without you, I have no Life. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter Sir William Sage, Lady virtue, and mimic. Sir William Sage. 
WHat are you studying your Play?  mimic. 
Yes faith, I am getting some speeches by heart.  Sir W. Sage. 
Let us hear some of them.  mimic. 
I cannot speak like a Woman in Breeches and Doublet, unless I have a Petticoat.  Enter the Cook-maid. Maid. 
Madam, I come to know what shall be dressed for Supper?  mimic. 
My Lady will fast and pray to night; wherefore, lend me one of thy Petticoats.  Maid. 
What will you do with it?  mimic. 
I'll not eat thy Petticoat, though it would fry in its own grease, but I would use it another way.  Maid. 
What other way?  mimic. 
Why, I will wear thy Petticoat over my Breeches.  Maid. 
No, by my Faith, but you shall not; for then my Petticoat and your Breeches may commit Fornication.  mimic. 
It were better our Clothes should commit Fornication, then our Persons; but in my Conscience our Clothes will be honest; but it is probable, that the pleas in your Petticoat, and the pleas in my Breeches may commit Fornication; and so our Clothes, or rather ourselves will be guilty of another such like virtue, as Fornication; which is, I shall be a Pimp, and you a Bawd for the Adulterous pleas; but howsoever I must borrow thy Petticoat.  Maid. 
Would you have me lend you my Petticoat, and stand myself naked?  mimic. 
If you should, it would seem a dead of Charity, to give thy Petticoat from off thee, to those that want it; besides, you will appear like the Picture of Eve in her state of Innocence; and when I have done acting my part, of seeming a Woman, I will be like Adam; and so we shall be both like our first Parents.  Maid. 
I'll see you hanged in an Apple-tree, before I lend you my Petticoat.  mimic. 
Then I shall not need it, unless it be for a shrowded to lap me in; but rather then you will see me hanged, you will cut the cord or halter, although you were sure to damn your Soul for the dead; but if thou wilt lend me thy Petticoat, I will promise hereafter to be thy Champion Knight, armed with thy Kitchin-Vessels; thy Spit shall be my long Sword or Tuck, and thy Dripping-pan my Target, thy Porridg-pot my Head-piece, one of thy Pie-plates shall serve for a breast-plate, and a Buff-coat made of the smuddy skins of Gammons of Bacon.  Maid. 
Upon that condition, to see you so armed, I will lend you my upper-Petticoat, if my Master and Lady will give me leave.  mimic. 
Thou hast their leave; for I must act my part for them to see me; and I had rather wear thy upper-Coat, then thy under-Petticoat.  She pulls off her Petticoat. L. virtue. 
Joan, help him to put it on.  mimic. 
No, I will put it on myself, for she will put it over my head, and I will put it under my feet, for I had rather my feet should go through her Petticoat, then my nose should be in her tail, which will be, if I put her Petticoat over my head.  She snatches her Petticoat away. Maid. 
You jeering Fool, you shall not have my Petticoat to play the Fool with.  mimic. 
You Slut, take your Coat again, for the smell makes me sick, and suffocates my breath.  Maid. 
You are a lying fellow, for saying my Petticoat stinks.  mimic. 
Prithee Joan, be pacified; for I confess, my smell is a foolish, nice, sickly smell; but for thy comfort, many right Honourable, and right noble Persons love the haut-goust of such Petticoats; but the perfume of thy Petticoat, has spoiled the part of my Play; for it hath put me quiter out of the Amorous Speeches, I should have rehearsed.  Sir W. Sage. 
But it is not so proper for a Woman to speak Amorous Speeches, as for a Man; wherefore, speak some Amorous Speeches to Joan, as a Man in your own Garments.  mimic. 
But my Speech was to be spoken in the absence of my Lover; complaining to the gods, and imploring their favours to assist me to the sight of my Love.  Sir W. Sage. 
That would have been rather as a Prayer, then an Amorous Speech.  mimic. 
No, no, I would have ordered my Speech so as it should have been Amorous.  L. virtue. 
Then I perceive we shall hear none of your Play at this time.  mimic. 
I have parts to act as a Man; which is to address myself in a Courtly manner to some fine, fair, sweet, young Lady.  L. virtue. 
Imagine Joan such a Lady.  mimic. 
My Imagination is not so powerful, as to Metamorphose Joan in my Thoughts to such a Lady; besides, Joan cannot answer a Man as she should.  Maid. 
You lye, you Rogue, for I have answered better men then thou art, or ever wilt be.  mimic. 
But can you talk Court-talks?  Maid. 
I know not what Court-talk is, but I can talk.  mimic. 
Stand forth here, and I will court thee as a Gallant doth his Mistress: Lady, your Beauty shines.  Maid. 
That is, because I washed it with some of the Beef-broth, and wiped it with a greasy clout, I use to wipe the dishes; otherwise, the great hot shining fire i'th' kitchen would burn and parch it so dry, as it would be scurvy, or scabby.  mimic. 
Setting aside your basted, roasted face, I must tell you, it is not the Courtly manner to interrupt a Man in his speech; you must be silent until the end of the Speech, and then speak; but you spoken when I had not said above four words: hold your peace, and I'll begin again.  
Lady, your Beauty shineth like a blazing-Star, whereon Men gaze, and in their Minds do wonder at the sight; but the effects are not alike; your Beauty strikes them not with fear, but Love; your frowns and smiles are Destiny and Fate, either to kill or cure.  Maid. 
What Language is this, French or Dutch, or welsh, or Irish, or Scotch!  mimic. 
No, it is Greek and Hebrew.  Maid. 
Speak to me so, as I may understand you; otherwise, I cannot answer you.  mimic. 
Joan, thy face shines like a Sea-coal fire.  Maid. 
Why, doth it look read?  mimic. 
Faith, thy Nose appears like a burning coal, raked over with black ashes, but all thy face else appears like the outside of a roasted big.  Maid. 
You are a roasted Ass, for saying my face appears like the outside of a roasted big; my face is a face of God's own making, and not a Pig's face.  mimic. 
No, I know your face is a Sow's face; but I say the colour of your face is like the Coat of a roasted big.  Maid. 
My face is as good a face as your own, without any dispraise to the party.  mimic. 
Which party? the Fools party, or the Sluts party?  Maid. 
Well, for saying my face is like a Pig's Coat, i'faith when I roast a big again, you shall not have any part of it; and let me give you warning, you come not into the kitchen; for if you do, I will fling a Ladle full of Drippings upon your Fools Coat.  Exit Maid. mimic. 
O wo is me! I shall lose many a hot bit; but Master and Lady, this is your fault to make Joan and I fall out.  L. virtue. 
We did not make you fall out.  mimic. 
You commanded me to Court Joan, and she doth not understand Courtships in words; for Joan is used to be kissed, and not wooed; but I will go and promise Joan a kiss, although I never pay it her; for the more hungry she is, the better she'l feed me. Exeunt.    

ACT V.  

SCENE I.  Enter Monsieur facile, Monsieur Adviser, and Monsieur Take-pleasure. Monsieur Take-pleasure. 
facile, I am come to fetch thee to the Horn-Tavern, for there be a number of Good-fellows that want thy Company.  facile. 
Stay, stay; I must go and make a cuckolded first.  Take-pleas. 
Thou hast made a Hundred in thy time.  facile. 
But I must go and make one to day; for I am going to meet a young beautiful Wife in private.  Take-pleas. 
Put off thy Meeting until another time.  facile. 
That I cannot, I am so engaged; besides, she is a Lady of Honour.  Adviser. 
Of Title you mean; for Ladies of Honour, or Honourable Ladies, do not use to have private Meetings with such wild deboist Men as thou art; and if she be a Wife, as you say she is, it will be no great honour for her Husband.  facile. 
You speak as if you were a Married Man, and were sensible of a Husbands disgrace.  Adviser. 
The truth is, I find I have a Commiseration and Compassion for Married Men.  facile. 
But not when you are to lye with any of their Wives.  Adviser. 
I seldom make love to Married Wives; for they are not worth the trouble and danger which a Man must pass through before they can be enjoyed; besides, a Man loses a great deal of time in Wooing them, not but that they are as yielding, nay, more yielding then Maids; but they are more fearful to venture, lest their Husbands should know it.  facile. 
Faith, Maids are more troublesone and chargeable then Wives; for they are apt to claim Marriage, or to sue for maintenance at least; besides, their lying in, and Christening, breeding and bringing up of their Children, is an intolerable Charge; which charge is saved with Married Wives; and for their Husbands, they are contented to wink, not willing to see their disgraces, at least not to divulge them.  Adviser. 
Not all; for some will look with more eyes then their own, setting spies to watch them.  facile. 
Those are old-fashioned Husbands, and not Mode-Husbands.  Adviser. 
Indeed, I observe, that Mode-Husbands do not love their Wives, unless other Men Court them; and if your Mistress's Husband is such a one, you shall not need to meet in private.  facile. 
I think my Mistress's Husband is not so much of the French fashion, although my Mistress is Frenchified.  Take-pleas. 
What, has she the French Pox?  facile. 
I hope not; for Ladies of her Quality have not that foul infectious Disease; but I mean my Mistress is in the French Fashion, not in the French Disease: But farewell, for I must be gone; otherwise, I shall slip my time.  Take-pleas. 
Prithee go along with me.  facile. 
I'll leave you, my friend here; for myself I must go, otherwise I should prove myself a Fool, to lose the time I have spent in Wooing, the Money I have given in bribing, the Sleeps I have mist with watching, the Protestations and Vows I have made in swearing, and my word that is past in promising, if I should not meet her and enjoy her; but when I am partend from her, I will come to you.  Take-pleas. 
Well, I am content to spare thee so long; for I would not have thee a loser, although my faith tells me, you will not gain much: But remember the meeting at the Horn-Tavern.  facile. 
I shall not forget that sign of any sign; wherefore, doubt not of my Company. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Lady virtue and mimic. Lady virtue. 
mimic, to my sight you appear dull, since you are Married!  mimic. 
Faith, I do not find myself so lively as I was before I Married; for a Wife is a clog to a Man's heels, and a cloud in a Man's mind; but your Ladyship seems more lively since you were Married, then you did before.  Lady. 
The reason is, That a good Husband is a light to a Woman's life, a friend to a Woman's virtue, and a Crown to a Woman's honour.  mimic. 
And an ill Wife is a Horn to a Man's head, a Plague to a Man's life, and a death to a Man's wit.  Lady. 
Indeed your Mimick-Wit seems dead since you Married; but yet my Maid Nan, whom you Married, is a good Wife.  mimic. 
Yes, when she is in a good humour.  Lady. 
Let me advice you to return to your Mimick-humour, or I will tell your Wife, that you repent your Marriage.  mimic. 
She may perceive that by my could kindness; howsoever, I'll live like a bachelor, although I am a Married Man.  Lady. 
How can you do so?  mimic. 
Why, I will live Chast.  Lady. 
That will be well for Nan.  Enter Sir William Sage. Sir W. Sage. 
Wife, I have invited some Strangers to dine with me to morrow; wherefore, I would have you dress yourself fine to entertain them.  Lady. 
If you like me in plain Garments as well as in rich, I care not how Strangers like me.  Sir W. Sage. 
I would have my Wife appear so handsome to Strangers, as they may approve of my Choice.  Lady. 
Some Men would be afraid if their Wives should be seen by Strangers, least they might like so well their Choice, as to choose them for their Mistresses.  Sir W. Sage. 
But my Wife's virtue makes me fearless of Strangers.  Lady. 
But virtue is not proved, until it be tried.  Sir W. Sage. 
True love is never inconstant.  Lady. 
But true love is not known until it be tried.  Sir W. Sage. 
I fear not a trial.  Lady. 
But a trial of Chastity is scandalous; for Overberry in his Characters says, That he comes not near, that comes to be denied.  Sir W. Sage. 
Then I will entertain the Strangers, and keep you in your Chamber.  Lady. 
I shall so.  mimic. 
Madam, my Master having Strangers to morrow, pray let me add one dish to the Feast.  Sir W. Sage. 
What Dish is that, a dressed Lady?  mimic. 
No; for my skill in physic doth plainly prove, that Ladies are unwholesome meat, they will give a Man a Surfeit; besides, they are not tastable, unless they be very tender and young; also, they are very chargeable in dressing, they require so many Ingrediences and garnishings to set them off, and so much sauce to make them relish well, as would undo a poor Man; besides, much art is required in the Dressing: So all considered, they are not worth the charge, labour and time, being but a faint, weak and sickly meat at the best, but I have thought of other meat, which will be tastable meat to a great Monarch.  Sir W. Sage. 
What meat is that?  mimic. 
An Hodge-podge.  Sir W. Sage. 
It seems it is for a Dutch Monarch; but let us know how you will make it?  mimic. 
First, I will take Widows dissembling Tears, Maids dissembling Modesty, Wives dissembling Chastity, Curtisans dissembling Virginity, Puritanical Sisters dissembling Piety, Autumnal Ladies dissembling Beauty; and mixing all these Ingrediences together, I will put them into a Mystical pot, and set it on a heatless fiery Meteor a stewing, and after it has stewed some time, I'll put these Ingrediences to them, The Pride of Favourites, the Vanity of Courtiers, the juggling of Statesmen, the Fears of Cowards, the mischiefs of Tumults, the Extortion of Magistrates, the Covetousness of Usurers, the Retards of Judges, the Quirks of Lawyers, the Opiniateness of scholars, the jealousy of Lovers, the Deceit of tradesman, the Brags of Soldiers, the Oaths of Gamesters, the Prodigality of young Heirs, the Diseases of Drunkards, the Surfeits of Gluttons, and the dishonour of Cuckolds; Likewise, I will put in a Fool's Brain, a liars Tongue, a traitorous Heart, and a Thieves Hand; With which I'll stir all together, and after they have been well stewed and stirred together, I'll take this Hodg-podg and put it into a large dish of Infamy, and garnish it with the dotgae of Age, the follies of Youth, the superstition of Idolaters, and the expectation of chemists, and then serve it up to Pluto's Table.  Lady. 
For once I will try my housewifry to Cook a dish of meat, which shall be a Bisk: First, I will take the Truth of Religion, the Piety of Saints, the Chastity of nuns, the Purity of Virginity, the Constancy of true Love, the Unity of Friendship, the Innocency of Infants, the Wit of Poets, the Eloquence of Orators, the Learning of Scholars, the Valour of Soldiers, the knowledge of Travellers, and Time's Experience; And put all these into a pot of Renown, and set it on a celestial fire a stewing; after it has stewed some time, I'll put in these Ingredients, wholesome Temperance, strengthening Fortitude, comfortable Justice, and savoury Prudence; also, I'll add the bowels of Compassion, the Heart of Honesty, the Brain of Wisdom, the Tongue of Truth, and the Hand of Generosity; and stir them well together, then I'll take them off, and put them into a dish of Happiness, and garnish it with the Plenty of Prosperity, the Ease of Rest, the Delight of Beauty, and the Tranquillity of Peace, and so serve it up to Jove's Table. Thus I am a Cook-maid for the gods; but you are a Cook-man for the Devil, and all the meat you Cook, is burnt.  mimic. 
I confess, Hell's fire is great and scorching, and Hell's kitchen is very hot; but howsoever, my Master the Devil loves his meat thoroughly roasted, and tenderly stewed; but your Master Jove loves all his meat could and raw; for there is not any fire in Heaven, and that is the reason you choose to be a Servant to the gods; because you would not burn your face, lest it should spoil your Complexion; for Ladies are more careful of their Faces then their Souls; besides, the cool and temperate air, and the could diet of the gods, which breeds phlegm, makes them patient; whereas, the Devil is dwelling in a Torrid Region, and eating dry roasted meat, which breeds choler, makes him furious; in so much, as he tortures his Servants with grievous pains.  Lady. 
Why do you serve him then?  mimic. 
Because, he gives great wages; I serve him for necessity, but some serve him for worldly honour, and some for worldly wealth, and some for worldly power, and some for one thing, and some for another; for none serves him for love, neither do the Servants of the gods serve them for love but for some reward.  Sir W. Sage. 
Let me persuade you to change your Service.  mimic. 
So I will, when I am old, and can serve the Devil no longer, then I will leave his Service, and serve the gods.  Sir W. Sage. 
But the gods will not then accept of your Service.  mimic. 
But they will; for the gods refuse not any that offer their service; The truth is, the gods cannot get Servants enough to serve them, so as they are forced to take any that will but serve them; for the gods have but the Devils leavings and refusals, as those that are so old as to be past sin; or so sickly, as they cannot act sin; or those that are so young, as not to know sin; for most of the gods Servants are aged and weak persons, or young Children.  Sir W. Sage. 
I perceive you will wear out sin, before you serve the gods.  mimic. 
No, sin shall wear out me, before I serve them.  Lady. 
You are a sinful Rogue.  mimic. 
All Mankind is so, more or less, even your Lordship; the gods bless you, and have mercy upon you.  Lady. 
Well, to punish you for your Sins, you shall eat no other meat but what your Poetical Fancy dresses.  mimic. 
I shall be starved then. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Monsieur Courtly, and Monsieur Adviser. Monsieur Adviser. 
COurtly! 'tis strange to see you in this humour, as dying for the love of one Woman, when as I thought you had taken a surfeit of all Womenkind!  Courtly. 
'Tis true, I have Courted some Women, and many Women have Courted me; but I did never truly love any Woman but this Woman, which I cannot enjoy.  Adviser. 
Have you no hopes to linger your life a little time longer?  Courtly. 
Faith, I believe my life will continue, but my hopes are butted in despair.  Adviser. 
If you had but the opportunity to Court this Lady, you are so madly in love with, at any time, I am confident you may gain her good will; for Women are as various in their denials and consentings to their Lovers, as they are in their fashions and garments; for they will love and hate, and hate and love one and the same, many several times; as now love, then hate, now hate, then love; for Ladies affections change like the Seasons, or the Weather, as sometimes hot, and sometimes could, and sometimes luke-warm.  Courtly. 
The affections of the Lady I love, are at all times could, even to profaneness; for she is insensible towards me, and to all Lovers else, for any thing I can perceive.  Adviser. 
Is she such a frozen Lady?  Courtly. 
Yes faith; for I think she is composed of Ice, or a statue made of Snow.  Adviser. 
If she be composed of Ice or Snow, I dare assure you, she may be melted.  Courtly. 
How?  Adviser. 
Why, be you in the Torrid Zone of Mode, in Speech, Behaviour and Accoustrements, and let your Garments be so rich, as to shine in Gold and Silver, whose glistering rays will cast a glorious splendour; then address yourself in Poetical flames, and being a hot Lover, you will thaw her into your arms, and melt her unto your desire: Thus a Western Lover, and a Northern Lady may meet in Conjunction together.  Courtly. 
But could Chastity has congealed and cry-stallined this Lady, in so much, as the hottest Lover with all his Poetical flames, and splenderous rays of Youth, Beauty, Title, Wealth or Bravery, has not power to change or alter her worth and honour; for like a durable Diamond she is, and will remain.  Advis. 
Who is the Owner of this rich Jewel?  Court. 
Sir W. Sage, who is a wise, valiant man, and will not part from her, nor suffer any Man to take her from him; for he wears her in his heart, and she is the delight of his Life, and the Crown of his Honour, in which he takes more Glory, pride and pleasure, then to be crwoned Emperor of the whole World.  Adviser. 
He hath reason; for a Man may sooner conquer the World, then find such another Chast Woman as she is.  Courtly. 
Well, since I cannot obtain my desire, I will travail.  Adviser. 
That is the best for you to do, for so you may tyre out Love.  Courtly. 
Or Love tyre out me.  Adviser. 
Faith, you are tired out of Courtship, and if you can tyre out Love, you will do well; but before you go to travail, you must go to a dancing-meeting of Ladies and Gentlemen. Exeunt.  Enter Longlife, and Aged. Aged. 
Mr. Longlife, I am come to tell you, That your Son Mercury hath stolen away my Daughter Fancy, and as I hear, they are gone to Apollo's Church to be Married.  Longl. 
Mr. Aged, I am sorry for it, and wish he had stolen a Challenge, when he stolen your Daughter.  Aged. 
And I wish my Daughter had Married an Ass, rather then mary your Son.  Longl. 
Well, if they be Married, as sure they are, if they have any Children we will endeavour to breed them Fools.  Aged. 
We will so.  Enter the Married Couple: They kneel down. Merc. 
We desire your Blessing.  Longl. 
Well, since you are Married, God bless you; But Son and Daughter in Law, I desire and command you in the name of a Father, that you will leave Versifying, Rhyming, Similizing, and the like, but study the politics, and that will abate your Wit.  Aged. 
They may study Virgils Georgicks, for that treats of good Husbandry.  Longl. 
Yes, brother Aged, but it is in Verse, and whatsoever they get in Husbandry, they will lose by the Rhyme.  Aged. 
By the Mass you say true, Brother Longlife.  Longl. 
Well Brother, although they have Married against our consent, yet we will celebrate their Marriage with Feasting, Mirth, and music.  Merc. 
music Sir, is a part of Poetry, and belongs to the Muses.  Longl. 
Yes, yes, but not such music as we will have, two or three Scraping fiddlers, that plays neither tune nor time.  Enter the Lady Fancy as a Bride, and Sir Mercury Poet as Bridegroom; and all the Ladies and Gentlemen that were Guests at the first Wedding. Aged. 
Brother Longlife, we are not for these active sports, our dancing-days are done.  Longl. 
You say true, brother Aged; but in our younger years we were as agile as the best of them all.  A young Lady takes out Longlife to dance. Lady. 
Sir, although you be old, you may walk a grave measure, as a Paven.  Longl. 
Say you so, my Girl; and i'faith I will try what my old legs will do; here brother Aged you shall hold my staff whilst I dance.  Aged. 
Nay, b'r'lady, your staff brother Longlife will help to prop up your weakness; and since a young Lady hath choose you to dance with, I will choose out a Lady to dance with me; but the Musicians must play slow, or we shall not keep time; wherefore, Musicians let not your Fiddles go faster then our Legs, nor your Tunes to be younger then our years, but an old Paven.  The Old Men dance with two Young Ladies, they dance softly, but right, and keep time. The Young Men smile. Aged. 
You young Men smile, but we could have danced as nimbly as you can now.  Merc. 
You will teach us a sober place, Sir.  Longl. 
No Son, Time must teach you that, to which we will leave you, and my Brother and I will rest our Legs whilst you tyre your Legs: Come brother Aged, let us leave them to their Mirth, music, and Youth.     

The ACTORS NAMES.  

Bridemen. 

Monsieur Take-pleasure,  
Monsieur Adviser,  
Monsieur facile.  
Monsieur Courtly.    
Master Longlife.  
Master Aged.  
Sir Mercury Poet, and the Lady Fancy his Bride.  
Sir William Sage, and the Lady virtue his Bride.  
Sir John Amorous, and the Lady Coy his Bride.  
Madam Mediator. And other Ladies.  
mimic the Fool.  
Joan, a Cook-maid.    

THE Convent of Pleasure. A COMEDY.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I.  Enter Three Gentlemen. First Gentleman. 
TOM, Where have you been, you look so sadly of it?  2 Gent. 
I have been at the Funeral of the Lord Fortunate; who has left his Daughter, the Lady Happy, very rich, having no other Daughter but her.  1 Gent. 
If she be so rich, it will make us all Young Men, spend all our Wealth in fine Clothes, Coaches, and lackeys, to set out our Wooing hopes.  3 Gent. 
If all her Wooers be younger Brothers, as most of us Gallants are, we shall undo ourselves upon bare hopes, without Probability: But is she handsome, Tom?  2 Gent. 
Yes, she is extreme handsome, young, rich, and virtuous.  1 Gent. 
Faith, that is too much for one Woman to possess.  2 Gent. 
Not, if you were to have her.  1 Gent. 
No, not for me; but in my Opinion too much for any other Man. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter the Lady Happy, and one of her Attendants. Servant. 
MAdam, you being young, handsome, rich, and virtuous, I hope you will not cast away those gifts of Nature, Fortune, and Heaven, upon a Person which cannot merit you?  L. Happy. 
Let me tell you, that Riches ought to be bestowed on such as are poor, and want means to maintain themselves; and Youth, on those that are old; Beauty, on those that are ill-favoured; and Virtue, on those that are vicious: So that if I should place my gifts rightly, I must mary one that's poor, old, ill-favoured, and debauched.  serve. 
Heaven forbid.  L. Happy. 
Nay, Heaven doth not only allow of it, but commands it; for we are commanded to give to those that want.  Enter Madam Mediator to the Lady Happy. mediate. 
Surely, Madam, you do but talk, and intend not to go where you say.  L. Happy. 
Yes, truly, my Words and Intentions go even together.  mediate. 
But surely you will not incloyster yourself, as you say.  L. Happy. 
Why, what is there in the public World that should invite me to live in it?  mediate. 
More then if you should banish yourself from it.  L. Happy. 
Put the case I should mary the best of Men, if any best there be; yet would a married life have more crosses and sorrows then pleasure, freedom, or happiness: nay Marriage to those that are virtuous is a greater restraint then a Monastery. Or, should I take delight in Admirers? they might gaze on my Beauty, and praise my Wit, and I receive nothing from their eyes, nor lips; for Words vanish as soon as spoken, and Sights are not substantial. Besides, I should lose more of my Reputation by their Visits, then gain by their Praises. Or, should I quit Reputation and turn Courtizan, there would be more lost in my Health, then gained by my Lovers, I should find more pain then Pleasure; besides, the troubles and frights I should be put to, with the Quarrels and Brouilleries that Jealous Rivals make, would be a torment to me; and 'tis only for the sake of Men, when Women retire not: And since there is so much folly, vanity and falsehood in Men, why should Women trouble and vex themselves for their sake; for retiredness bars the life from nothing else but Men.  mediate. 
O yes, for those that incloister themselves, bar themselves from all other worldly Pleasures.  L. Happy. 
The more Fools they.  mediate. 
Will you call those Fools that do it for the gods sake?  L. Happy. 
No Madam, it is not for the gods sake, but for opinion's sake; for, Can any Rational Creature think or believe, the gods take delight in the Creature's uneasy life? or, Did they command or give leave to Nature to make Senses for no use; or to across, vex and pain them? for, What profit or pleasure can it be to the gods to have Men or Women wear coarse linen or rough Woollen, or to flay their skin with Hair-cloth, or to eat or saw thorough their flesh with Cords? or, What profit or pleasure can it be to the gods to have Men eat more Fish then Flesh, or to fast? unless the gods did feed on such meat themselves; for then, for fear the gods should want it, it were fit for Men to abstain from it: The like for Garments, for fear the gods should want fine Clothes to adorn themselves, it were fit Men should not wear them: Or, what profit or pleasure can it be to the gods to have Men to lye uneasily on the hard ground, unless the gods and Nature were at variance, strife and wars; as if what is displeasing unto Nature, were pleasing to the gods, and to be enemies to her, were to be friends to them.  mediate. 
But being done for the gods sake, it makes that which in Nature seems to be bad, in Divinity to be good.  L. Happy. 
It cannot be good, if it be neither pleasure, nor profit to the gods; neither do Men any thing for the gods but their own sake.  mediate. 
But when the Mind is not employed with Vanities, nor the Senses with Luxury; the Mind is more free, to offer its Adorations, Prayers and Praises to the gods.  L. Happy. 
I believe, the gods are better pleased with Praises then Fasting; but when the Senses are dulled with abstinency, the Body weakened with fasting, the Spirits tired with watching, the Life made uneasy with pain, the Soul can have but little will to worship: only the Imagination doth frighten it into active zeal, which devotion is rather forced then voluntary; so that their prayers rather flow out of their mouth, then spring from their heart, like rain-water that runs thorough Gutters, or like Water that's forced up a Hill by Artificial Pipes and Cisterns. But those that pray not unto the gods, or praise them more in prosperity then adversity, more in pleasures then pains, more in liberty then restraint, deserve neither the happiness of ease, peace, freedom, plenty and tranquillity in this World, nor the glory and blessedness of the next. And if the gods should take pleasure in nothing but in the torments of their Creatures, and would not prefer those prayers that are offered with ease and delight, I should believe, the gods were cruel: and, What Creature that had reason or rational understanding, would serve cruel Masters, when they might serve a kind Mistress, or would forsake the service of their kind Mistress, to serve cruel Masters? Wherefore, if the gods be cruel, I will serve Nature; but the gods are bountiful, and give all, that's good, and bid us freely please ourselves in that which is best for us: and that is best, what is most temperately used, and longest may be enjoyed, for excess doth wast itself, and all it feeds upon.  mediate. 
In my opinion your Doctrine, and your Intention do not agree together.  L. Happy. 
Why?  mediate. 
You intend to live incloister'd and retired from the World.  L. Happy. 
'Tis true, but not from pleasures; for, I intend to incloister myself from the World, to enjoy pleasure, and not to bury myself from it; but to incloister myself from the encumbered cares and vexations, troubles and perturbance of the World.  mediate. 
But if you incloister yourself, How will you enjoy the company of Men, whose conversation is thought the greatest Pleasure?  L. Happy. 
Men are the only troublers of Women; for they only across and oppose their sweet delights, and peaceable life; they cause their pains, but not their pleasures. Wherefore those Women that are poor, and have not means to buy delights, and maintain pleasures, are only fit for Men; for having not means to please themselves, they must serve only to please others; but those Women, where Fortune, Nature, and the gods are joined to make them happy, were mad to live with Men, who make the Female sex their slaves; but I will not be so enslaved, but will live retired from their Company. Wherefore, in order thereto, I will take so many Noble Persons of my own Sex, as my Estate will plentifully maintain, such whose Births are greater then their Fortunes, and are resolved to live a single life, and vow Virginity: with these I mean to live incloister'd with all the delights and pleasures that are allowable and lawful; My Cloister shall not be a Cloister of restraint, but a place for freedom, not to vex the Senses but to please them.  

For every Sense shall pleasure take,  
And all our Lives shall merry make:  
Our Minds in full delight shall joy,  
Not vexed with every idle Toy:  
Each Season shall our Caterers be,  
To search the Land, and Fish the Sea;  
To gather Fruit and reap the Corn,  
That's brought to us in Plenty's Horn;  
With which we'l feast and please our taste,  
But not luxurious make a wast.  
Wee'l Cloth ourselves with softest Silk,  
And linen fine as white as milk.  
Wee'l please our Sight with Pictures rare;  
Our Nostrils with perfumed Air.  
Our Ears with sweet melodious Sound,  
Whose Substance can be no where found;  
Our taste with sweet delicious Meat,  
And savoury Sauces we will eat:  
Variety each Sense shall feed,  
And Change in them new Appetites breed.  
Thus will in Pleasure's Convent I  
Live with delight, and with it die.   Exeunt.   

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Enter Monsieur Take-pleasure, and his Man Dick. Monsieur Take-pleasure. 
DIck, Am I fine to day?  Dick. 
Yes, Sir, as fine as Feathers, Ribbons, Gold, and Silver can make you.  Takepl. 
Dost thou think I shall get the Lady Happy?  Dick. 
Not if it be her fortune to continue in that name.  Takepl. 
Why?  Dick. 
Because if she mary your Worship she must change her Name; for the Wife takes the Name of her Husband, and quits her own.  Takepl. 
Faith, Dick, if I had her wealth I should be Happy.  Dick. 
It would be according as your Worship would use it; but, on my conscience, you would be more happy with the Ladies Wealth, then the Lady would be with your Worship.  Takepl. 
Why should you think so?  Dick. 
Because Women never think themselves happy in Marriage.  Takepl. 
You are mistaken; for Women never think themselves happpy until they be Married.  Dick. 
The truth is, Sir, that Women are always unhappy in their thoughts, both before and after Marriage; for, before Marriage they think themselves unhappy for want of a Husband; and after they are Married, they think themselves unhappy for having a Husband.  Takepl. 
Indeed Womens thoughts are restless.  Enter Monsieur facile, and Monsieur Adviser, to Monsieur Take-pleasure; all in their Wooing Accoustrements. Takepl. 
Gentlemen, I perceive you are all prepared to woe.  facile. 
Yes faith, we are all prepared to be Wooers. But whom shall we get to present us to the Lady Happy?  Adviser. 
We must set on bold faces, and present ourselves.  Takepl. 
Faith, I would not give my hopes for an indifferent portion.  facile. 
Nor I.  Adviser. 
The truth is, We are all stuffed with Hopes, as Cushions are with Feathers.  Enter Monsieur Courtly. Court. 
O Gentlemen, Gentlemen, we are all utterly undone.  Adviser. 
Why, what's the matter?  Court. 
Why, the Lady Happy hath incloister'd her self, with twenty Ladies more.  Adviser. 
The Devil she hath?  facile. 
The gods forbid.  Court. 
Whether it was the devil or the gods that have persuaded her to it, I cannot tell; but gone in she is.  Takepl. 
I hope it is but a blast of Devotion, which will soon flamme out.  Enter Madam Mediator. Takepl. 
O Madam Mediator, we are all undone, the Lady Happy is incloister'd.  mediate. 
Yes, Gentlemen, the more is the pitty.  Adviser. 
Is there no hopes?  mediate. 
Faith, little.  facile. 
Let us fee the Clergy to persuade her out, for the good of the Commonwealth.  mediate. 
Alas Gentlemen! they can do no good, for she is not a Votress to the gods but to Nature.  Court. 
If she be a Votress to Nature, you are the only Person fit to be Lady Prioress; and so by your power and authority you may give us leave to visit your Nuns sometimes.  mediate. 
Not but at a grace, unless in time of Building, or when they are sick; but howsoever, the Lady Happy is Lady-Prioress her self, and will admit none of the Masculine Sex, not so much as to a grace, for she will suffer no grates about the Cloister; she has also Women-Physicians, Surgeons and Apothecaries, and she is the chief Confessor her self, and gives what Indulgences or Absolutions she pleaseth: Also, her House, where she hath made her Convent, is so big and convenient, and so strong, as it needs no addition or repair: Besides, she has so much compass of ground within her walls, as there is not only room and place enough for Gardens, Orchards, Walks, Groves, Bowers, Arbours, pounds, Fountains, Springs and the like; but also conveniency for much Provision, and hath Women for every Office and Employment: for though she hath not above twenty Ladies with her, yet she hath a numerous Company of Female Servants, so as there is no occasion for Men.  Takepl. 
If there be so many Women, there will be the more use for Men: But pray Madam Mediator, give me leave, rightly to understand you, by being more clearly informed: you say, The Lady Happy is become a Votress to Nature; and if she be a Votress to Nature, she must be a Mistress to Men.  mediate. 
By your favour, Sir, she declares, That she hath avoided the company of Men, by retirement, merely, because she would enjoy the variety of Pleasures, which are in Nature; of which, she says, Men are Obstructers; for, instead of increasing Pleasure, they produce Pain; and, instead of giving Content, they increase Trouble; instead of making the Femal-Sex Happy, they make them Miserable; for which, she hath banished the Masculine Company for ever.  Adviser. 
Her Heretical Opinions ought not to be suffered, nor her Doctrine allowed; and she ought to be examined by a Masculine Synod, and punished with a severe Husband, or tortured with a deboist Husband.  mediate. 
The best way, Gentlemen, is to make your Complaints, and put up a Petition to the State, with your desires for a Redress.  Court. 
Your Counsel is good.  facile. 
We will follow it, and go presently about it. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter the Lady Happy, with her Ladies; as also Madam Mediator. Lady Happy. 
LAdies, give me leave to desire your Confession, whether or no you repent your Retirement.  Ladies. 
Most excellent Lady, it were as probable a repentance could be in Heaven amongst Angels as amongst us.  L. Happy. 
Now Madam Mediator, let me ask you, Do you condemn my act of Retirement?  mediate. 
I approve of it with admiration and wonder, that one that is so young should be so wise.  L. Happy. 
Now give me leave to inform you, how I have ordered this our Convent of Pleasure; first, I have such things as are for our Ease and Conveniency; next for Pleasure, and Delight; as I have change of Furniture, for my house; according to the four Seasons of the year, especially our Chambers: As in the Spring, our Chambers are hung with Silk-Damask, and all other things suitable to it; and a great Looking-Glass in each Chamber, that we may view ourselves and take pleasure in our own Beauties, whilst they are fresh and young; also, I have in each Chamber a Cup-board of such plate, as is useful, and whatsoever is to be used is there ready to be employed; also, I have all the Floor strewed with sweet Flowers: In the Summer I have all our Chambers hung with fifty, and all other things suitable to it, and a Cup-board of Purseline, and of Plate, and all the floor strewed every day with green Rushes or Leaves, and Cisterns placed near our Beds-heads, wherein Water may run out of small Pipes made for that purpose: To invite repose in the Autumn, all our Chambers are hung with gilded Leather, or Franchipane; also, Beds and all other things suitable; and the Rooms Matted with very fine Mats: In the Winter our Chambers must be hung with Tapestry, and our Beds of Velvet, lined with satin, and all things suitable to it, and all the Floor spread over with turkey Carpets, and a Cup-board of gilded Plate; and all the Wood for Firing to be Cypress and Juniper; and all the Lights to be Perfumed Wax; also, the Bedding and Pillows are ordered according to each Season; viz. to be stuffed with Feathers in the Spring and Autumn, and with Down in the Winter, but in the Summer to be only Quilts, either of Silk, or fine Holland; and our Sheets, Pillows, tablecloths and Towels, to be of pure fine Holland, and every day clean; also, the Rooms we eat in, and the Vessels we feed withal, I have according to each Season; and the linen we use to our Meat, to be pure fine Diaper, and Damask, and to change it fresh every course of Meat: As for our Galleries, Stair-Cases, and Passages, they shall be hung with various Pictures; and, all along the Wall of our Gallery, as long as the Summer lasts, do stand, upon Pedestals, Flower-pots, with various Flowers; and in the Winter Orange-Trees: and my Gardens to be kept curiously, and flourish, in every Season of all sorts of Flowers, sweet Herbs and Fruits, and kept so as not to have a Weed in it, and all the Groves, Wildernesses, Bowers and Arbours pruned, and kept free from dead Boughs Branches or Leaves; and all the pounds, rivulets, Fountains, and Springs, kept clear, pure and fresh: Also, we will have the choicest Meats every Season doth afford, and that every day our Meat, be dressed several ways, and our drink cooler or hotter according to the several Seasons; and all our Drinks fresh and pleasing: Change of Garments are also provided, of the newest fashions for every Season, and rich Trimming; so as we may be accoutred properly, and according to our several pastimes: and our Shifts shall be of the finest and purest linen that can be bought or spun.  Ladies. 
None in this World can be happier.  L. Happy. 
Now Ladies, let us go to our several Pastimes, if you please. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter Two Ladies. Lady Amorous. 
MAdam, how do you, since you were Married?  L. virtue. 
Very well, I thank you.  L. Amor. 
I am not so well as I wish I were.  Enter Madam Mediator to them. M. mediate. 
Ladies, do you hear the News?  L. virtue. 
What News?  M. mediate. 
Why there is a great Foreign Princess arrived, hearing of the famous Convent of Pleasure, to be one of Nature's Devotes.  L. Amor. 
What manner of Lady is she?  M. mediate. 
She is a Princely brave Woman truly, of a Masculine Presence.  L. virtue. 
But, Madam Mediator, Do they live in such Pleasure as you say? for they'l admit you, a Widow, although not us, by reason we are Wives.  M. mediate. 
In so much Pleasure, as Nature never knew, before this Convent was: and for my part, I had rather be one in the Convent of Pleasure, then empress of the whole World; for every Lady there enjoyeth as much Pleasure as any absolute Monarch can do, without the Troubles and Cares, that wait on Royalty; besides, none can enjoy those Pleasures They have, unless they live such a retired or retreated life free from the Worlds vexations.  L. virtue. 
Well, I wish I might see and know, what Pleasures they enjoy.  M. mediate. 
If you were there, you could not know all their Pleasure in a short time, for their Varieties will require a long time to know their several Changes; besides, their Pleasures and Delights vary with the Seasons; so that what with the several Seasons, and the Varieties of every Season, it will take up a whole life time.  L. virtue. 
But I could judge of their Changes by their single Principles.  M. mediate. 
But they have Variety of one and the same kind.  L. virtue. 
But I should see the way or manner of them.  M. mediate. 
That you might. Exeunt.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Monsieur Adviser, Courtly, Take-pleasure, and facile. Monsieur Courtly. 
IS there no hopes to get those Ladies out of their Convent?  Adviser. 
No faith, unless we could set the Convent on fire.  Takepl. 
For Jupiter's sake, let us do it, let's every one carry a Fire-brand to fire it.  Court. 
Yes, and smoke them out, as they do a Swarm of Bees.  facile. 
Let's go presently about it.  Adviser. 
Stay, there is a great Princess there.  Takepl. 
'Tis true, but when that Princess is gone, we will surely do it.  Adviser. 
Yes, and be punished for our villainy.  Takepl. 
It will not prove villainy, for we shall do Nature good service.  Adviser. 
Why, so we do Nature good service, when we get a Wench with Child, but yet the Civil Laws do punish us for it.  Court. 
They are not Civil Laws that punish Lovers.  Adviser. 
But those are Civil Laws that punish Adulterers.  Court. 
Those are Barbarous Laws that make Love Adultery.  Adviser. 
No, Those are Barbarous that make Adultery Love.  facile. 
Well, leaving Love and Adultery, They are foolish Women that vex us with their Retirement.  Adviser. 
Well, Gentlemen, although we rail at the Lady Happy for Retiring, yet if I had such an Estate as she, and would follow her Example; I make no doubt but you would all be content to encloister yourselves with me upon the same conditions, as those Ladies incloister themselves with her.  Takepl. 
Not unless you had Women in your Convent.  Advis. 
Nay, faith, since Women can quit the pleasure of Men, we Men may well quit the trouble of Women.  Court. 
But is there no place where we may peak into the Convent?  Adviser. 
No, there are no Grates, but Brick and Stone-walls.  facile. 
Let us get out some of the Bricks or Stones.  Adviser. 
Alas! the Walls are a Yard-thick.  facile. 
But nothing is difficult to Willing-minds.  Adviser. 
My Mind is willing; but my Reason tells me, It is impossible; wherefore, I'll never go about it.  Takepl. 
Faith, let us resolve to put ourselves in Womens apparel, and so by that means get into the Convent.  Adviser. 
We shall be discovered.  Takepl. 
Who will discover Us?  Adviser. 
We shall discover ourselves.  Takepl. 
We are not such fools as to betray ourselves.  Adviser. 
We cannot avoid it, for, our very Garb and Behaviour; besides, our Voices will discover us: for we are as untoward to make Courtsies in Petticoats, as Women are to make Legs in Breeches; and it will be as great a difficulty to raise our Voices to a Treble-sound, as for Women to press down their Voices to a Base; besides, We shall never frame our Eyes and Mouths to such coy, dissembling looks, and pretty simpering Mopes and Smiles, as they do.  Court. 
But we will go as strong lusty Country-Wenches, that desire to serve them in inferior Places, and Offices, as Cook-maids, Landry-maids, Dairy-maids, and the like.  facile. 
I do verily believe, I could make an indifferent Cook-maid, but not a Laundry, nor a Dairy-maid; for I cannot milk Cows, nor starch Gorgets, but I think I could make a pretty shift, to wash some of the Ladies Night-Linnen.  Takepl. 
But they employ Women in all Places in their Gardens; and for Brewing, Baking and making all sorts of things; besides, some keep their Swine, and twenty such like Offices and Employments there are which we should be very proper for.  facile. 
O yes, for keeping of Swine belongs to Men; remember the Prodigal Son.  Adviser. 
Faith, for our Prodigality we might be all Swin-heards.  Court. 
Also we shall be proper for Gardens, for we can dig, and set, and sow.  Takepl. 
And we are proper for Brewing.  Adviser. 
We are more proper for Drinking, for I can drink good Beer, or Ale, when 'tis brewed; but I could not brew such Beer, or Ale, as any man could drink.  facile. 
Come, come, we shall make a shift one way or other: Besides, we shall be very willing to learn, and be very diligent in our Services, which will give good and great content; wherefore, let us go and put these designs into execution.  Courtly. 
Content, content.  Adviser. 
Nay, faith, let us not trouble ourselves for it, 'tis in vain. Exeunt.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter the Princess, and the Lady Happy, with the rest of the Ladies belonging to the Convent. Lady Happy. 
MAdam, Your Highness has done me much Honour, to come from a Splendid Court to a retired Convent.  Prin. 
Sweet Lady Happy, there are many, that have quit their Crowns and Power, for a Cloister of Restraint; then well may I quit a Court of troubles for a Convent of Pleasure: but the greatest pleasure I could receive, were, To have your Friendship.  L. Happy. 
I should be ungrateful, should I not be not only your Friend, but humble Servant.  Prin. 
I desire you would be my Mistress, and I your Servant; and upon this agreement of Friendship I desire you will grant me one Request.  L. Happy. 
Any thing that is in my power to grant.  Prin. 
Why then, I observing in your several Recreations, some of your Ladies do accoustre Themselves in Masculine-Habits, and act Lovers-parts; I desire you will give me leave to be sometimes so accoustred and act the part of your loving Servant.  L. Happy. 
I shall never desire to have any other loving Servant then yourself.  Prin. 
Nor I any other loving Mistress then Your-Self.  L. Happy. 
More innocent Lovers never can there be, Then my most Princely Lover, that's a She.  Prin. 
Nor never Convent did such pleasures give, Where Lovers with their Mistresses may live.  Enter a Lady, asking whether they will see the Play. Lady. 
May it please your Highness, the Play is ready to be Acted.  The Scene is opened, the Princess and L. Happy sit down, and the Play is Acted within the Scene; the Princess and the L. Happy being Spectators. Enter one dressed like a Man that speaks the Prologue. 
Noble Spectators, you shall see to night  
A Play, which though't be dull, yet's short to sight;  
For, since we cannot please your Ears with Wit,  
We will not tyre your limbs, long here to sit.   

SCENE II.  Enter Two mean Women. First Woman. 
O Neighbour well met, where have you been?  2 Woman. 
I have been with my Neighbour the Cobler's Wife to comfort her for the loss of her Husband, who is run away with Goody Mettle the Tinker's Wife.  1 Woman. 
I would to Heaven my Husband would run away with Goody Shred the Botcher's Wife, for he lies all day drinking in an Ale-house, like a drunken Rogue as he is, and when he comes home, he beats me all black and blew, when I and my Children are almost starved for want.  2 Woman. 
Truly Neighbour, so doth my Husband; and spends not only what he gets, but what I earn with the sweat of my brows, the whilst my Children cry for bread, and he drinks that away, that should feed my small Children, which are too young to work for themselves.  1. Woman. 
But I will go, and pull my Husband out of the Ale-house, or I'll break their Lattice-windows down.  2 Woman. 
Come, I'll go and help; for my Husband is there too: but we shall be both beaten by them.  1 Woman. 
I care not: for I will not suffer him to be drunk, and I and my Children starve; I had better be dead. Exeunt.   

SCENE III.  Enter a Lady and her Maid. LAdy. 
Oh, I am sick!  Maid. 
You are breeding a Child, Madam.  Lady. 
I have not one minutes time of health. Ex.   

SCENE IV.  Enter Two Ladies. First Lady. 
WHy weep you, Madam?  2 Lady. 
Have I not cause to weep when my Husband hath played all his Estate away at Dice and Cards, even to the Clothes on his back?  1 Lady. 
I have as much cause to weep then as you; for, though my Husband hath not lost his Estate at play, yet he hath spent it amongst his Whores; and is not content to keep Whores abroad, but in my house, under my roof, and they must rule as chief Mistresses.  2 Lady. 
But my Husband hath not only lost his own Estate, but also my Portion; and hath forced me with threats, to yield up my Jointure, so that I must beg for my living, for any thing I know as yet.  1 Lady. 
If all Married Women were as unhappy as I, Marriage were a curse.  2 Lady. 
No doubt of it. Exeunt.   

SCENE V.  Enter a Lady, as almost distracted, running about the Stage, and her Maid follows her. LAdy. 
Oh! my Child is dead, my Child is dead, what shall I do, what shall I do?  Maid. 
You must have patience, Madam.  Lady. 
Who can have patience to lose their only Child? who can! Oh I shall run mad, for I have no patience.  Runs off the Stage. Exit Maid after her.  

SCENE VI.  Enter a Citizen's Wife, as into a Tavern, where a Bush is hung out, and meets some Gentlemen there. Citizen's Wife. 
PRay Gentlemen, is my Husband, Mr. Negligent here?  1 Gent. 
He was, but he is gone some quarter of an hour since.  Cit. Wife. 
Could he go, Gentlemen?  2 Gent. 
Yes, with a Supporter.  Cit. Wife. 
Out upon him! must he be supported? Upon my credit Gentlemen, he will undo himself and me too, with his drinking and carelessness, leaving his Shop and all his Commodities at six's and seven's; and his Prentices and Journey-men are as careless and idle as he; besides, they cousin him of his wears. But, was it a He or She-Supporter, my Husband was supported by?  1 Gent. 
A She-supporter; for it was one of the Maid-servants, which belong to this Tavern.  Cit. Wife. 
Out upon him Knave, must he have a She-supporter, in the Devil's name? but I'll go and seek them both out with a Vengeance.  2. Gent. 
Pray, let us entreat your stay to drink a cup of Wine with us.  Cit. Wife. 
I will take your kind Offer; for Wine may chance to abate choleric vapours, and pacify the Spleen.  1 Gent. 
That it will; for Wine and good Company are the only abaters of Vapours.  2. Gent. 
It doth not abate Vapours so much as cure Melancholy.  Cit. Wife. 
In truth, I find a cup of Wine doth comfort me sometimes.  1 Gent. 
It will cheer the Heart.  2 Gent. 
Yes, and enlighten the Understanding.  Cit. Wife. 
Indeed, and my understanding requires enlightening. Exeunt.   

SCENE VII.  Enter a Lady big with Child, groaning as in labour, and a Company of Women with her. 
OH my back, my back will break, Oh! Oh! Oh!  1 Woman. 
Is the Midwife sent for?  2 Woman. 
Yes, but she is with another Lady.  Lady. 
Oh my back! Oh! Oh! Oh! Juno, give me some ease. Exeunt.   

SCENE VIII.  Enter two Ancient Ladies. 1 LAdy. 
I have brought my Son into the World with great pains, bread him with tender care, much pains and great cost; and must he now be hanged for killing a Man in a quarrel? when he should be a comfort and staff of my age, is he to be my ages affliction?  2 Lady. 
I confess it is a great affliction; but I have had as great; having had but two Daughters, and them fair ones, though I say it, and might have matched them well: but one of them was got with Child to my great disgrace; th' other run away with my Butler, not worth the droppings of his Taps.  1 Lady. 
Who would desire Children, since they come to such misfortunes? Exeunt.   

SCENE IX.  Enter one Woman meeting another. 1 WOman. 
Is the Midwife come, for my Lady is in a strong labour?  2 Woman. 
No, she cannot come, for she hath been with a Lady that hath been in strong labour these three days of a dead child, and 'tis thought she cannot be delivered.  Enter another Woman. 3 Woman. 
Come away, the Midwife is come.  1 Woman. 
Is the Lady delivered, she was withall?  3 Woman. 
Yes, of life; for she could not be delivered, and so she died.  2 Woman. 
Pray tell not our Lady so: for, the very fright of not being able to bring forth a Child will kill her. Exeunt.   

SCENE X.  Enter a Gentleman who meets a fair Young Lady. GEnt. 
Madam, my Lord desires you to command whatsoever you please, and it shall be obeyed.  Lady. 
I dare not command, but I humbly entreat, I may live quiet and free from his Amours.  Gent. 
He says he cannot live, and not love you.  Lady. 
But he may live, and not lye with me.  Gent. 
He cannot be happy, unless he enjoy you.  Lady. 
And I must be unhappy, if he should.  Gent. 
He commanded me to tell you that he will part from his Lady for your sake.  Lady. 
Heaven forbid, I should part Man and Wife.  Gent. 
Lady, he will be divorced for your sake.  Lady. 
Heaven forbid I should be the cause of a Divorce between a Noble Pair.  Gent. 
You had best consent; for, otherwise he will have you against your will.  Lady. 
I will sand his Lordship an answer to morrow; pray him to give me so much time.  Gent. 
I shall, Lady. Exit Gentleman.  Lady Sola. Lady. 
I must prevent my own ruin, and the sweet virtuous Ladies, by going into a Nunnery; wherefore, I'll put myself into one to night:  
There will I live, and serve the Gods on high,  
And leave this wicked World and Vanity.  Exeunt. One enters and speaks the Epilogue. 
Marriage is a Curse we find,  
Especially to Women kind:  
From the Cobler's Wife we see,  
To Ladies, they unhappy be.  L. Happy to the Prin. 
Pray Servant, how do you like this Play?  Prin. 
My sweet Mistress, I cannot in conscience approve of it; for though some few be unhappy in Marriage, yet there are many more that are so happy as they would not change their condition.  L. Happy. 
O Servant, I fear you will become an Apostate.  Prin. 
Not to you sweet Mistress. Exeunt.  Enter the Gentlemen. 1 Gent. 
There is no hopes of dissolving this Convent of Pleasure.  2 Gent. 
Faith, not as I can perceive.  3 Gent. 
We may be sure, this Convent will never be dissolved, by reason it is ennobled with the company of great Princesses, and glorified with a great famed; but the fear is, that all the rich Heirs will make Convents, and all the Young Beauties associate themselves in such Convents.  1 Gent. 
You speak reason; wherefore, let us endeavour to get Wives, before they are Incloister'd.  Exeunt.   

ACT IV.  

SCENE I.  Enter Lady Happy dressed as a Shepherdess; She walks very Melancholy, then speaks as to her self. 
MY Name is Happy, and so was my Condition, before I saw this Princess; but now I am like to be the most unhappy Maid alive: But why may not I love a Woman with the same affection I could a Man?  
No, no, Nature is Nature, and still will be  
The same she was from all Eternity.  Enter the Princess in Masculine Shepherd's Clothes. Prin. 
My dearest Mistress, do you shun my Company? is your Servant become an offence to your sight?  L. Happy. 
No, Servant! your Presence is more acceptable to me then the Presence of our Goddess Nature, for which she, I fear will punish me, for loving you more then I ought to love you.  Prin. 
Can Lovers love too much?  L. Happy. 
Yes, if they love not well.  Prin. 
Can any Love be more virtuous, innocent and harmless then ours?  L. Happy. 
I hope not.  Prin. 
Then let us please ourselves, as harmless Lovers use to do.  L. Happy. 
How can harmless Lovers please themselves?  Prin. 
Why very well, as, to discourse, embrace and kiss, so mingle souls together.  L. Happy. 
But innocent Lovers do not use to kiss.  Prin. 
Not any act more frequent amongst us Women-kind; nay, it were a sin in friendship, should not we kiss: then let us not prove ourselves Reprobates.  They embrace and kiss, and hold each other in their Arms. Prin. 
These my embraces though of female kind,  
May be as fervent as a Masculine mind.  The Scene is opened, the Princess and L. Happy go in. A Pastoral within the Scene. The Scene is changed into a Green, or Plain, where Sheep are feeding, and a May-Pole in the middle. L. Happy as a Shepherdess, and the Princess as a Shepherd are sitting there. Enter another Shepherd, and Wooes the Lady Happy. Shepherd. 
FAir Shepherdess do not my svit deny,  
O grant my svit, let me not for Love die:  
Pity my Flocks, Oh save their Shepherd's life;  
Grant you my svit, be you their Shepherd's Wife.  L. Happy. 
How can I grant to every ones request?  
Each Shepherd's svit lets me not be at rest;  
For which I wish, the Winds might blow them far,  
That no Love-Suit might enter to my Ear.  Enter Madam Mediator in a Shepherdess dress, and another Shepherd. Sheph. 
Good Dame unto your Daughter speak for me.  
persuade her I your Son in Law may be:  
I'll serve your Swine, your Cows bring home to Milk;  
Attend your Sheep, whose Wool's as soft as Silk;  
I'll plow your Grounds, Corn I'll in Winter sow,  
Then reap your Harvest, and your Grass I'll mow;  
Gather your Fruits in Autumn from the three.  
All this and more I'll do, if y' speak for me.  Shepherdess. 
My Daughter vows a single life,  
And swears, she n're will be a Wife;  
But live a Maid, and Flocks will keep,  
And her chief Company shall be Sheep.  The Princess as a Shepherd, speaks to the Lady Happy. Prin. 

My Shepherdess, your Wit flies high,  
Up to the sky,  
And views the Gates of Heaven,  
Which are the Planets Seven;  
Sees how fixed Stars are placed,  
And how the Meteors wast;  
What makes the Snow so white,  
And how the Sun makes light;  
What makes the biting could  
On every thing take hold;  
And Hail a mixed degree,  
'Twixt Snow and Ice you see  
From whence the Winds do blow;  
What Thunder is, you know,  
And what makes Lightning flow  
Like liquid streams, you show.  
From sky you come to th' Earth,  
And view each Creature's birth;  
Sink to the Center deep,  
Where all dead bodies sleep;  
And there observe to know,  
What makes the Minerals grow;  
How Vegetables sprout,  
And how the Plants come out;  
Take notice of all Seed,  
And what the Earth doth breed;  
Then view the Springs below,  
And mark how Waters flow;  
What makes the Tides to rise  
Up proudly to the Skies,  
And shrinking back descend,  
As fearing to offend.  
Also your Wit doth view  
The Vapour and the due,  
In Summer's heat, that Wet  
Doth seem like the Earth's Sweat;  
In Winter-time, that due  
Like paint 's white to the view,  
could makes that thick, white, dry;  
As Cerusse it doth lye  
On th' Earth's black face, so fair  
As painted Ladies are;  
But, when a heat is felt,  
That Frosty paint doth melt.   

Thus heaven and Earth you view,  
And see what's Old, what's New;  
How Bodies Transmigrate,  
Lives are Predestinate.  
Thus doth your Wit reveal  
What Nature would conceal.   L. Happy. 

My Shepherd,  
All those that live do know it,  
That you are born a Poet,  
Your Wit doth search Mankind,  
In Body and in Mind;  
The Appetites you measure,  
And weigh each several Pleasure;  
Do figure every Passion,  
And every Humor's fashion;  
See how the fancy's wrought,  
And what makes every Thought;  
Fadom Conceptions low,  
From whence Opinions flow;  
Observe the Memorie's length,  
And Understanding's strength  
Your Wit doth Reason find,  
The Centre of the Mind,  
Wherein the Rational Soul  
Doth govern and control,  
There doth she sit in State,  
Predestinate by Fate,  
And by the Gods Decree,  
That Sovereign She should be.   

And thus your Wit can tell,  
How Souls in Bodies dwell;  
As that the Mind dwells in the Brain,  
And in the Mind the Soul doth reign,  
And in the Soul the life doth last,  
For with the Body it doth not wast;  
Nor shall Wit like the Body die,  
But live in the World's Memory.   Prin. 
May I live in your favour, and be possessed with your Love and Person, is the height of my ambitions.  L. Happy. 
I can neither deny you my Love nor Person.  Prin. 
In amorous Pastoral Verse we did not woe.  
As other Pastoral Lovers use to do.  L. Ha. 
Which doth express, we shall more constant be,  
And in a Married life better agree.  Prin. 
We shall agree, for we true Love inherit,  
Join as one Body and Soul, or heavenly Spirit.  Here come Rural Sports, as Country Dances about the Map-Pole: that Pair which Dances best is crwoned King and Queen of the Shepherds that year; which happens to the Princess, and the Lady Happy. L. Happy to the Princ. 
Let me tell you, Servant, that our custom is to dance about this May-Pole, and that Pair which Dances best is crowned King and Queen of all the Shepherds and Shepherdesses this year: Which Sport if it please you we will begin.  Prin. 
Nothing, Sweetest Mistress, that pleases you, can displease me.  They Dance; after the Dancing the Princess and Lady Happy are crwoned with a Garland of Flowers: a Shepherd speaks. 

You've won the prise; and justly; so we all  
acknowledge it with joy, and offer here  
Our Hatchments up, our Sheep-hooks as your due,  
And Scrips of Corduant, and Oaten pipe;  
So all our Pastoral Ornaments we lay  
Here at your Feet, with Homage to obey  
All your Commands, and all these things we bring  
In honour of our dancing Queen and King;  
For Dancing heretofore has got more Riches  
Then we can find in all our Shepherds Breeches;  
Witness rich Holmby: Long then may you live,  
And for your Dancing what we have we give.   A Wassel is carried about and Syllibubs. Another Shepherd speaks, or Sings this that follows. 

THe Jolly Wassel now do bring,  
With apple drowned in stronger Ale,  
And fresher Syllibubs, and sing;  
Then each to tell their Love-sick Tale:  
So home by Couples, and thus draw  
ourselves by holy Hymen's Law.   The Scene Vanishes. Enter the Princess Sola, and walks a turn or two in a Musing posture, then views her Self, and speaks. Prin. 
What have I on a Petticoat, Oh Mars! thou God of War, pardon my sloth; but yet remember thou art a Lover, and so am I; but you will say, my Kingdom wants me, not only to rule, and govern it, but to defend it: But what is a Kingdom in comparison of a Beautiful Mistress? Base thoughts fly off, for I will not go; did not only a Kingdom, but the World want me. Exeunt.  Enter the Lady Happy Sola, and Melancholy, and after a short Musing speaks. L. Happy. 
O Nature, O you gods above,  
Suffer me not to fall in Love;  
O strike me dead here in this place  
Rather then fall into disgrace.  Enter Madam Mediator. M. mediate. 
What, Lady Happy, solitary alone! and Musing like a disconsolate Lover!  L. Happy. 
No, I was Meditating of Holy things.  M. mediate. 
Holy things! what Holy things?  L. Happy. 
Why, such Holy things as the Gods are.  M. mediate. 
By my truth, whether your Contemplation be of Gods or of Men, you are become lean and pale since I was in the Convent last.  Enter the Princess. Princ. 
Come my sweet Mistress, shall we go to our Sports and Recreations?  M. mediate. 
Beshrew me, your Highness hath sported too much I fear.  Princ. 
Why, Madam Mediator, say you so?  M. mediate. 
Because the Lady Happy looks not well, she is become pale and lean.  Princ. 
Madam Mediator, your eyes are become dim with Time; for my sweet Mistress appears with greater splendour then the God of Light.  M. mediate. 
For all you are a great Princess, give me leave to tell you,  
I am not so old, nor yet so blind,  
But that I see you are too kind.  Princ. 
Well, Madam Mediator, when we return from our Recreations, I will ask your pardon, for saying, your eyes are dim, conditionally you will ask pardon for saying, my Mistress looks not well.  Exeunt. The Scene is opened, and there is presented a Rock as in the Sea, whereupon sits the Princess and the Lady Happy; the Princess as ' the Sea-God Neptune, the Lady Happy as a Sea-Goddess: the rest of the Ladies sit somewhat lower, dressed like Water-Nymphs; the Princess begins to speak a Speech in Verse, and after her the Lady Happy makes her Speech. 

I Am the King of all the Seas,  
All watery Creatures do me please,  
Obey my Power and Command,  
And bring me Presents from the Land;  
The Waters open their Flood-gates,  
Where Ships do pass, sent by the Fates;  
Which Fates do yearly, as May-Dew,  
sand me a Tribute from Peru,  
From other Nations besides,  
Brought by their Servants, Winds and Tides,  
Ships fraught and Men to me they bring;  
My Watery Kingdom lays them in.  
Thus from the Earth a Tribute I  
Receive, which shows my power thereby:  
Besides, my Kingdom's richer far  
Then all the Earth and every Star.   L. Happy. 
I feed the Sun, which gives them light,  
And makes them shine in darkest night,  
Moist vapour from my breast I give,  
Which he sucks forth, and makes him live,  
Or else his Fire would soon go out,  
Grow dark, or burn the World throughout.  Princ. 
What Earthly Creature's like to me,  
That hath such Power and majesty?  
My Palaces are Rocks of ston,  
And built by Nature's hand alone;  
No base, dissembling, coz'ning Art  
Do I employ in any part,  
In all my Kingdom large and wide,  
Nature directs and doth provide  
Me all Provisions which I need,  
And Cooks my Meat on which I feed.  L. Happy. 
My Cabinets are Oyster-shells,  
In which I keep my Orient-Pearls,  
To open them I use the Tide,  
As Keys to Locks, which opens wide,  
The Oyster-shells then out I take;  
Those, Orient-Pearls and Crowns do make;  
And modest Coral I do wear,  
Which blushes when it touches air.  
On Silver-Waves I sit and sing,  
And then the Fish lye listening:  
Then sitting on a Rocky ston,  
I comb my Hair with Fishes bone;  
The whilst Apollo, with his Beams,  
Doth dry my Hair from wat'ry streams.  
His Light doth glaze the Water's face,  
Make the large Sea my Looking-Glass;  
So when I swim on Waters high,  
I see myself as I glide by:  
But when the Sun begins to burn,  
I back into my Waters turn,  
And dive unto the bottom low:  
Then on my head the Waters flow,  
In Curled waves and Circles round;  
And thus with Waters am I crowned.  Princ. 
Besides, within the Waters deep,  
In hollow Rocks my Court I keep;  
Of ambergris my Bed is made,  
Whereon my softer Limbs are laid,  
There take I Rest; and whilst I sleep,  
The Sea doth guard, and safe me keep  
From danger; and, when I awake,  
A Present of a Ship doth make.  
No Prince on Earth hath more resort,  
Nor keeps more Servants in his Court;  
Of Mare-maids you're waited on,  
And Mare-men do attend upon  
My Person; some are Councellors,  
Which order all my great Affairs;  
Within my wat'ry Kingdom wide,  
They help to rule, and so to guide  
The Common-wealth; and are by me  
preferred unto an high degree.  
Some Judges are, and Magistrates,  
Decide each Cause, and end Debates;  
Others, Commanders in the War;  
And some to Governments prefer;  
Others are Neptun's Priests which pray  
And preach when is a holiday.  
And thus with Method order I,  
And govern all with Majesty;  
I am sole Monarch of the Sea,  
And all therein belongs to me.  A Sea-Nymph Sings this following SONG. 

1.  
WE Watery Nymphs rejoice and Sing  
About God Neptune our Sea's King;  
In Sea-green Habits, for to move  
His God-head, for to fall in love.   

2.  
That with his Trident he doth stay  
Rough foaming Billows which obey:  
And when in Triumph he doth stride  
His managed Dolphin for to ride.   

3.  
All his Sea-people to his wish,  
From Whale to Herring subject Fish,  
With Acclamations do attend him,  
And pray's more Riches still to sand him.   Exeunt. The SCENE Vanishes.   

ACT V.  

SCENE I.  Enter the Princess and the Lady Happy; The Princess is in a Man's Apparel as going to Dance; they Whisper sometime; then the Lady Happy takes a Ribbon from her arm, and gives it to the Princess, who gives her another instead of that, and kisses her hand. They go in and come presently out again with all the Company to Dance, the music plays; And after they have Danced a little while, in comes Madam Mediator wringing her hands, and spreading her arms; and full of Passion cries out. 
O Ladies, Ladies! you're all betrayed, undone, undone; for there is a man disguised in the Convent, search and you'l find it.  They all skip from each other, as afraid of each other; only the Princess and the Lady Happy stand still together. Princ. 
You may make the search, Madam Mediator; but you will quit me, I am sure.  M. mediate. 
By my faith but I will not, for you are most to be suspected.  Princ. 
But you say, the Man is disguised like a Woman, and I am accoustred like a Man.  M. Mediator. 
fiddle, fadle, that is nothing to the purpose.  Enter an ambassador to the Prince; the ambassador kneels, the Prince bids him rise. Princ. 
What came you here for?  Embass. 
May it please your Highness, The Lords of your Council sent me to inform your Highness, that your Subjects are so discontented at your Absence, that if your Highness do not return into your Kingdom soon, they'l enter this Kingdom by reason they hear you are here; and some report as if your Highness were restrained as Prisoner.  Princ. 
So I am, but not by the State, but by this Fair Lady, who must be your Soveraigness.  The ambassador kneels and kisses her Hand. Princ. 
But since I am discovered, go from me to the Councellors of this State, and inform them of my being here, as also the reason, and that I ask their leave I may mary this Lady; otherwise, tell them I will have her by force of Arms. Exit ambassador.  M. mediate. 
O the Lord! I hope you will not bring an Army, to take away all the Women; will you?  Princ. 
No, Madam Mediator, we will leave you behind us. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Madam Mediator lamenting and crying with a Handkerchief in her hand. 
O Gentlemen, that I never had been born, we're all undone and lost!  Advis. 
Why, what's the matter?  M. mediate. 
Matter? nay, I doubt, there's too much Matter.  Advis. 
How?  M. mediate. 
How, never such a Mistake; why we have taken a Man for a Woman.  Advis. 
Why, a Man is for a Woman.  M. mediate. 
fiddle fadle, I know that as well as you can tell me; but there was a young Man dressed in Woman's Apparel, and entered our Convent, and the Gods know what he hath done: He is mighty handsome, and that's a great Temptation to Virtue; but I hope all is well: But this wicked World will lay aspersion upon any thing or nothing; and therefore I doubt, all my sweet young Birds are undone, the Gods comfort them.  Courtly. 
But could you never discover it? nor have no hint he was a Man?  M. mediate. 
No truly, only once I saw him kiss the Lady Happy; and you know Womens Kisses are unnatural, and me-thought they kissed with more alacrity then Women use, a kind of Titillation, and more Vigorous.  Advis. 
Why, did you not then examine it?  M. mediate. 
Why, they would have said, I was but an old jealous fool, and laughed at me; but Experience is a great matter; If the Gods had not been merciful to me, he might have fallen upon me.  Courtly. 
Why, what if he had?  M. mediate. 
Nay, if he had I care not: for I defy the Flesh as much as I renounce the Devil, and the pomp of this wicked World; but if I could but have saved my young sweet Virgins, I would willingly have sacrificed my body for them; for we are not born for ourselves but for others.  Advis. 
'Tis piously said, truly, lovingly and kindly.  M. mediate. 
Nay, I have red the practise of Piety; but further they say, He is a Foreign Prince; and they say, They're very hot.  Courtly. 
Why, you are Madam Mediator, you must mediate and make a Friendship.  M. mediate. 
odds body what do you talk of Mediation, I doubt they are too good Friends; Well, this will be news for Court, Town and Country, in private Letters, in the Gazette, and in abominable Ballets, before it be long, and jeered to death by the pretending Wits; but, good Gentlemen, keep this as a Secret, and let not me be the Author, for you will hear abundantly of it before it be long.  Advis. 
But, Madam Mediator, this is no Secret, it is known all the Town over, and the State is preparing to entertain the Prince.  M. mediate. 
Lord! to see how ill news will fly so soon abroad?  Courtly. 
Ill news indeed for us Wooers.  Advis. 
We only wooed in Imagination but not in Reality.  M. mediate. 
But you all had hopes.  Advis. 
We had so; but she only has the fruition: for it is said, the Prince and she are agreed to mary; and the State is so willing, as they account it an honour, and hope shall reap much advantage by the Match.  M. mediate. 
Yes, yes; but there is an old and true Saying, There's much between the Cup and the Lip.  Exeunt.  

SCENE III.  Enter the Prince as Bridegroom, and the Lady Happy as Bride, hand in hand under a Canopy born over their heads by Men; the Magistrates march before, then the Hoboys; and then the Bridal-Guests, as coming from the Church, where they were Married. All the Company bids them joy, they thank them. Madam Mediator. 
ALthough your Highness will not stay to feast with your Guests, pray Dance before you go.  Princ. 
We will both Dance and Feast before we go; come Madam let us Dance, to please Madam Mediator.  The Prince and Princess Dance. Princ. 
Now, Noble Friends, Dance you; and the Princess, and I, will rest ourselves.  After they have Danced, the Lady Happy, as now Princess, speaks to the Lady virtue. L. Happy speaks to L. virtue. 
Lady virtue, I perceive you keep mimic still.  L. Happy to the Princ. 
Sir, this is the mimic I  told you of.  L. Happy to mimic. 
mimic, will you leave your Lady and go with me?  mimic. 
I am a Married Man, and have Married my Ladies Maid Nan, and she will keep me at home do what I can; but you've now a mimic of your own, for the Prince has imitated a Woman.  L. Happy. 
What you Rogue, do you call me a Fool?  mimic. 
Not I, please your Highness, unless all Women be Fools.  Princ. 
Is your Wife a Fool?  mimic. 
Man and Wife, 'tis said, makes but one Fool.  He kneels to the Prince. mimic. 
I have an humble Petition to your Highness.  Princ. 
Rise; What Petition is that?  mimic. 
That your Highness would be pleased to divide the Convent in two equal parts; one for Fools, and th' other for Married Men, as mad Men.  Princ. 
I'll divide it for Virgins and Widows.  mimic. 
That will prove a Convent of Pleasure indeed; but they will never agree, especially if there be some disguised Prince amongst them; but you had better bestow it on old decrepit and bed-rid Matrons, and then it may be called the Convent of Charity, if it cannot possibly be name the Convent of Chastity.  Princ. 
Well, to show my Charity, and to keep your Wife's Chastity, I'll bestow my bounty in a Present, on the Condition you speak the Epilogue. Come, Noble Friends, let us feast before we part.  Exeunt. mimic Solus. mimic. 
An Epilogue says he, the devil an Epilogue have I: let me study.  He questions and answers Himself. 
I have it, I have it; No faith, I have it not; I lye, I have it, I say, I have it not; Fie mimic, will you lye? Yes, mimic, I will lye, if it be my pleasure: But I say, it is gone; What is gone? The Epilogue; When had you it? I never had it; then you did not lose it; that is all one, but I must speak it, although I never had it; How can you speak it, and never had it? I mary, that's the question; but words are nothing, and then an Epilogue is nothing, and so I may speak nothing; Then nothing be my Speech.   

He Speaks the EPILOGUE.  
NOble Spectators by this Candle-light,  
I know not what to say, but bid, Good Night:  
I dare not beg Applause, our Poetess then  
Will be enraged, and kill me with her Pen;  
For she is careless, and is voided of fear;  
If you dislike her Play she doth not care.  
But I shall weep, my inward Grief shall show  
Through Floods of Tears, that your my Eyes will flow.  
And so poor mimic he for sorrow die.  
And then through pity you may chance to cry:  
But if you please, you may a Cordial give,  
Made up with Praise, and so he long may live.    
FINIS.   

The ACTORS NAMES.  

THree Gentlemen.  
Lady Happy.  
Madam Mediator.  
Monsieur Take-pleasure, and Dick his Man.  
Monsieur facile.  
Monsieur Adviser.  
Monsieur Courtly.  
Lady Amorous.  
Lady virtue.  
The Princess.  
Two mean Women.  
A Lady, and her Maid.  
Two Ladies.  
A distracted Lady, and her Maid.  
A Citizen's Wife.  
Two Ancient Ladies.  
A Gentleman and a Young Lady.  
A Shepherd.  
Sea-Nymphs.  
An Ambassador.    

A Piece of a Play.  
Advertisement to the Reader.  
THe Reader is desired to take notice, That the following Fragments are part of a Play which I did intend for my Blazing-World, and had been Printed with it, if I had finished it; but before I had ended the second Act, finding that my Genius did not tend that way, I left that design; and now putting some other Comedies to the Press, I suffer this Piece of One to be published with them.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I.  Enter Sir Puppy Dogman, and Monsieur Ass. Sir Puppy Dogman. 
MOnsieur Ass, you are the only person in the whole World, I am ambitious to be acquainted with.  M. Ass. 
I am your thrice humble servant, Sir Puppy.  Sir Puppy. 
I am informed you are the best drolling, gulling, and Libel-wit in this Kingdom.  M. Ass. 
I confess my Genius hath been happy that way.  Sir Puppy. 
That Genius would I learn, for it is the only Genius that is in fashion amongst the Mode-Wits; and it is reported, that you are the friend, and a confident to the Mode-Wits.  M. Ass. 
I confess that I am not only a friend and a confident, but a head of the Company of the Mode-Wits.  Sir Puppy. 
They cannot be better headed then by an Asse's head; and therefore I desire to be one of the Company; but pray you, inform me, Monsieur Ass, what gulling-Wit is? for I am but newly come out of the Country, and am unacquainted with the Wit of the Town.  M. Ass. 
Gulling-Wit is lying Wit; and I will assure you, Sir, it expresses much fancy to make lies.  Sir Puppy. 
Are those Poetical Fancies?  M. Ass. 
Hang Poetical Fancies, for they are Pictures of Ideas in the Mind; but gulling-lies are to abuse the Generality, by making of News, and several reports of Peace, Wars, State-affairs of great Monarchs, and their Councils, and so of all things, and of particular persons.  Sir Puppy. 
And what is drolling and raillery Wit?  M. Ass. 
That sort of Wit is to rail of, and abuse particular persons, under the pretence of Jesting.  Sir Puppy. 
Then what is Libel-Wit?  M. Ass. 
Libel-Wit is to defame great and Noble Persons.  Sir Puppy. 
Monsieur Ass, you have infinitely obliged me with your informations, for which I shall be your eternal Servant.  M. Ass. 
I am your Slave, Sir Puppy Dogman.  Exeunt. Enter the Lady Eagle, Lady Sparrow, Lady Titmous, Lady Woodcock, Lady Hornet, Lady Chaffer, the Lady Cricket, and Others. Eagle. 
Is the Lady Phoenix come to Town?  Woodcock. 
No; but it is reported, that she is coming to Town in such splendour, as the World never saw the like.  Sparrow. 
Lord! how much splendour?  Woodcock. 
So much as will astonish all her Spectators.  Titmous. 
I cannot perceive what splendour she can appear in to astonish all that behold her.  Eagle. 
I desire if any one of the Town know her, to describe her to me.  Cricket. 
There are many that pretend to know her, but I observe, they give such different Characters of her, that makes me believe they do not know her?  Eagle. 
Who are those that pretend to know her?  Cricket. 
Sir Blind-Buzzard is one, and the Lady Wasp is another.  Enter Sir Blind-Buzzard and the Lady Wasp. Eagle. 
You are welcome; I was sending for you, for 'tis said you two know the Lady Phoenix.  Buzzard. 
We never saw her, but we have seen them that have seen her.  Eagle. 
I am  told, that she is coming to this City in such splendour, as the World never saw.  Buzzard. 
Your ladyship is truly informed, for she is clothed all with light, and the beams issuing from that light, makes her train many miles long, which is held up by the Planets; also, she is perfumed with all the Spices in the East-Indies; her Chariot is made of air, in the fashion of a Ship, and that airy Ship is gilded with the Sun; She hath numerous Attendants, those that usher her, are Blazing-Stars, and those that follow her, are fiery Meteors.  Eagle. 
Doth the Ship hold all her Attendants?  Buzzard. 
Yes; for the Ship is bigger then the Great-Soveraign.  Eagle. 
But the Great-Soveraign cannot hold all the Planets.  Buzzard. 
Why, not as well as Noah's Ark all sorts of Beasts?  Eagle. 
Of what diet is she of?  Buzzard. 
She feeds only upon Thoughts.  Cricket. 
Pray, Sir Blind-Buzzard, give me leave to tell you one thing, that if her train be many miles long, no House can contain the length.  Wasp. 
But she hath an art to contract her beams when she will.  Eagle. 
I desire much to see this Lady.  Wasp. 
When you see her, you will all dislike her.  Eagle. 
Why shall we all dislike her?  Wasp. 
By reason none of the Female Sex can endure to see any thing fairer then themselves.  Enter the Lady Monkey. Eagle. 
Lady Monkey, did you ever see the Lady Phoenix?  Monkey. 
No, Madam, but I hearing of a wonderful Lady coming to this City, whose train spread so far and long, as out of one Kingdom into another, came as speedily as I could to this Company to know the truth.  Buzzard. 
The truth is, her Train is but some few miles long.  Monkey. 
I cry you mercy, Sir Blind-Buzzard, I did not see you; it seems you know this Lady.  Buzzard. 
I do not know her, but I have heard of her.  Monkey. 
So have I, which made me come hither to know if the report was true, for all reports are not true.  Enter Monsieur Ass. Eagle. 
Monsieur Ass, did you ever see the Lady Phoenix?  M. Ass. 
No, but I am credibly informed, that she is as proud as Lucifer, she despises her Superiors, and scorns her Inferiors.  Enter Sir Puppy Dogman. M. Ass. 
But Sir Puppy Dogman can inform you what she is.  Puppy. 
What who is?  M. Ass. 
The Lady Phoenix.  Sir Puppy. 
Hang her, for she is not Company for a Dog.  Hornet. 
Do you know her?  Sir Puppy. 
No, but I have heard of her.  Enter Mr. Worm-man. Sir Puppy. 
But Mr. Worm-man hath seen her; did you never see the Lady Phoenix, Mr. Worm-man?  Worm-man. 
No truly, I did never see her; but one Mrs. Dormouse, that serves the Lady Leverit, is well acquainted with her, for she did serve her.  Enter Madam Leverit, and her Maid Dormouse. Eagle. 
Madam Leverit, we are informed that your Maid Dormouse hath served the Lady Phoenix.  Dormouse. 
Yes, Madam, I served her many years.  Eagle. 
Of what Nature, Disposition and Conversation is she?  Dormouse. 
She is of a studious nature, in a retired life, ever retiring from much Company, and of a careless humour, not regarding what the World says, or doth; in Company she is of a free Disposition, and an airy Conversation; she is civil to strangers, kind to acquaintances, bountiful to her servants, and charitable to the poor; also, she is humble to those that are respectful, but severe to those that are rude.  M. Ass. 
Surely Mrs. Dormouse, you slept all the time you served her; for certainly she is the proudest Creature alive.  Dormouse. 
She may chance to seem proud to an Ass, and vain to a Buzzard; but otherwise, she is as one of her quality ought to be. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Lord Bearman, and the Lady Monkey. Lord Bearman. 
DEar Lady Monkey, I come to present  
My loving heart, without a compliment;  
Let me embrace thee in my Amorous Arms,  
Which makes a circled of all loving Charms.  Monkey. 
Your first encounter is too rude and bold  
To offer in your Arms me to enfold.  Bearman. 
Yet give me leave, dear Lady, to admire,  
Your agile Motions, Wit, and your Attire.  
And wish with all my heart you may love me,  
For I with heart and soul will still love thee.  Monkey. 
I love a Lord, yet I would have him woe  
In Courtly Language, as Lovers use to do;  
And his Address, Behaviour, Speech and Clothes  
All a la mode, not a la mode his Oaths;  
And such a Lover I will entertain,  
But Lovers out of fashion I disdain.  Bearman. 
I do confess I want those rules and arts  
As such Men have that are named Men of Parts.  
But such Men as these are not natural,  
For all Mode-Gallants are artificial;  
But for your sake, I will go to Mode's School  
To learn Mode's fashions for to play the Fool.  Exit the Lord Bearman. Enter Sir Puppy Dogman. Sir Puppy. 
Dear Lady Monkey, I am come here to play  
An hour or two to pass the time away;  
To run, to skip, to dance, and so to woe  
In lively pastimes, as Lovers used to do.  Monkey. 
You are deceived, Mode-Lovers woe not so,  
But cringe and creep, being afraid to go,  
Or stir, or speak, but only with eye-glances,  
He to his Mistress love, his heart advances;  
Besides, your Garments are to mean and base,  
And such a Lover would be a disgrace  
To a fair Lady; wherefore, come not near,  
Unless you like a Gallant do appear.  Sir Puppy. 
I will go to a tailor for to make  
Me a rich svit for my dear Ladies sake.    

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Enter Sir politic Fox-man, Solus. 
THe Lady Leverit is a rich Widow, but a dull Melancholy Lady; which humour is best befiting, and most agreeable to a studious Politician; but let her humour be merry or sad, I care not, for 'tis her Riches that I covet.  Enter Mr. Worm-man. Fox. 
O dear friend, Mr. Worm-man! have you made any enquiry about the rich Widow, the Lady Leverit?  Worm-man. 
I have not only inquired, but I have spied out another Lover of hers, which is Monsieur satire.  Foxman. 
A Pox on Monsieur satire; but surely she will never entertain a satire.  Worm-man. 
That may be a question; for though Satyrs for the most part wooes in a crabed, and harsh style; yet for the most part they are well beloved of Ladies.  Fox-man. 
But do you think she will mary him?  Worm-man. 
I cannot judge, because many Women, especially Widows, mary, as you would mary, for Interest, not for Love; besides, many Women have Lovers for their use, and mary Husbands for their abuse.  Fox-man. 
But when I am married, I will keep her from abusing me.  Worm-man. 
If you have that Art, it is an Art that only you, and no other man, hath as yet found out; but the best way is to woe her, and then wed her if you can.  Fox-man. 
I shall take your Counsel; but pray you advice me whether I should woe her in Verse, or in Prose?  Worm-man. 
Certainly the best way is to woe her in Prose; for I never heard that ever a subtle Politician was ever a good Poet.  Fox-man. 
Well, your advice, dear friend, I will follow: But let me ask your advice once more, which is, Whether I shall first present my affection in a Letter, before I speak to her in person.  Worm-man. 
Truly, my advice is, That you shall sand her a Letter; for Ladies take great delight to red Love-Letters; besides, it proves you will be constant, when your affections are declared under your hand and seal: But why do you, a Politician, ask advice?  Fox-man. 
Because Politicians require information; But how shall my Letter be delivered?  Worm-man. 
I am well acquainted with Mrs. Dormouse her Maid, and I will deliver the Letter to her, and she'l present it to her Lady.  Exit Mr. Worm-man. Enter the Lord Bear-man, all Accoutred in the mode, and all in the mode, careless, and with congees. Bear-man. 
Sir politic Fox-man, my dear and obliging friend, how do I love thee! for thou art the most meritorious person in the whole World.  Fox-man. 
I am your Lordships most humble servant; and I wish it was in my power to serve so great a person as you are; I perceive your Lordship is for the Court to day, you are so accoutred.  Bear-man. 
Although I am not for the Court, yet I am for Courtship.  Fox-man. 
I perceive your Lordship is a Lover.  Bear-man. 
I should be otherwise out of the mode; but the Ladies do so flock about me, since I have put myself into the mode, and do so Court me, as I cannot have time to make a particular Courtship.  Fox-man. 
Your Lordship is a happy man.  Bear-man. 
Faith, if happiness be to have the love of many Ladies, I am happy; but I have one Lady that I value and love above all the rest, and I hope she will love me now I am in the mode.  Fox-man. 
Surely your Lordship cannot be more modified then you are.  Bear-man. 
Not for Clothes; but I fear I have not the right Mode in behaviour and speech; but I will go and visit my Mistress, and see if she approves of me.  Exit the Lord Bear-man Enter Sir Puppy Dogman all in Mode-Accoutrements Puppy. 
O Sir politic Fox! I have a quarrel with you.  Fox-man. 
With me, Sir Puppy! it cannot be, for I am your vassal, your slave, and do study all the ways to serve you; and assure yourself you shall find me as faithful in all your employments, or concerns, as any friend you have.  Puppy. 
I cannot but believe you, if I be in the Mode, which is to be a self-conceited Puppy: But prithee tell me, am I not a Mode-Gallant?  Fox-man. 
No doubt but you out-mode all the Gallants in the Town, as far as I see, in behaviour and accoutrements.  Puppy. 
Yes, but I am more modified then so; for I have been at a Coffee-house, and a Tavern, and have entertained a Mistress, and in a short time I hope I shall be able to brag, not only of several Lady-Mistresses, but that I have the Pox.  Fox-man. 
These modes I fear will be both chargeable and unhealthful.  Puppy. 
They are no Moders that regard health, or expenses; but I will tell you, that there is another Mode that I must learn, which is to defame great Ladies, not only in private discourse, but in public Lampoons, or else I shall not, when I am poor, get young Puppys like myself to pay my score, or for my lodging; nor shall I borrow one penny, neither shall I be cried up for a Wit.  Fox-man. 
But these Modes are Modes for inferior persons, not such persons of quality as you are.  Puppy. 
Nay faith, in this age there is no difference between the noble and base; but if there be, 'tis to the advantage of the mean and base persons; but fare you well, for I must go to a Mistress and dissemble in compliments, and then I shall be an absolute Mode-gallant; for there is no art so much practised in this age, amongst all sorts and degrees of men, as dissembling.  Exit Sir Puppy Dogman. Fox-man. 
Lord! Lord! what an age is this for Fools!  Enter Worm-man. Fox-man. 
What makes your quick return?  Worm-man. 
A quick dispatch.  Fox-man. 
Have you delivered my Letter?  Worm-man. 
Yes, and have brought you an answer.  
LETTER.  
Sir politic,  
I have received your affectionate Letter, and I shall willingly hear your svit, and if it be reasonable, grant your request, being more then an ordinary friend and your humble Servant,  
S. Leverit.  Fox-man. 
Dear friend, this Letter is more then I could hope for, in so short a time.  Worm-man. 
Now she is in a wise humour, towards a wise Politician, go immediately and woe her.  Fox-man. 
I will take your Counsel, dear friend.  Exeunt.  

SCENE II.  Enter Sir Puppy Dogman to the Lady Monkey, dressed in the Mode, and as he is coming into the Room, trims and dresses himself; then stands a little time, and leers about, and then creeps, cringes, and riggles his breech, and then speaks. Sir Puypy Dogman. 
LAdy, I should have come sooner to have sacrificed myself and all my fortunes to your service; but that I had lent my Coach and six Horses to a Friend.  Monkey. 
He was not your Friend if he kept you from your Mistress.  Puppy. 
I confess I was infinitely displeased, in being hindered from the celestial prospect of your beauty.  Enter the Lord Bear-man all dressed in the mode, and comes boldly up to the Lady, and kisses her hand; Dogman frowns and grins. Bear-man. 
Madam, are you for a Play? or Court? or High-Park to day? if you be, I, as the humblest of your Servants, will attend upon you.  Puppy. 
I have offered the Lady Monkey my Coach and six Horses before you came.  Bear-man. 
It was your duty so to do; but yet my Coach and six Horses is to be preferred before yours, being a Lords Coach, and six Horses; neither ought such as you to have a Coach and six Horses.  Puppy. 
A Gentleman is as good as a Lord; and so I am as good as you.  Bear-man. 
Go, go, and inquire of the herald of our Pedigrees.  Puppy. 
No, a herald cannot decide our quarrel, but this Sword shall maintain my honour, and decide the dispute.  Monkey. 
Pray do not fight here in my house, to fright me with your quarrels.  Bear-man. 
Do not fear our fighting; but if we did not quarrel in the presence of our Mistress, we should not be right in the Mode.  Puppy. 
But I shall call your Lordship to a strict account.  Monkey. 
Pray be friends; for it is the Mode for many Lovers to agree, and be dear and loving friends.  Bear-man. 
That Mode of many Lovers is a Matrimonial Mode, as the Lovers of a Married Wife; but not the lovers of a young and virtuous Virgin.  Puppy. 
My Lord Bear-man tells you true; wherefore, we must fight.  Monkey. 
I desire you, as you love me, not to fight.  Puppy. 
'Tis against the Laws of Nature, for a Bear-man and a Dogman to be friends.  Monkey. 
Bears seldom assault the Dogs, but Dogs assault the Bears; and for the most part have the worst; for many Dogs are killed by one Bear, but seldom a Bear is killed, although assaulted by many Dogs at once; wherefore, I pray Sir Puppy do not fight.  Puppy. 
I shall obey you, dear Madam; and being so infinitely obliged, give me leave to kiss your hand.  Kisses her Hand. Exit. Bear-man. 
Madam, you have given a just cause both to quarrel and fight.  Monkey. 
Pray have patience; for 'tis the Mode amongst Ladies to give their hand to one man, and their heart to another man. Exeunt.  Enter Mr. Worm-man, and Sir politic Fox-man. Worm-man. 
Now you have been with the rich Widow, pray tell us the success of your Wooing, or Courtship?  Fox-man. 
Faith, I have had as good success as I could desire; for she hath entertained me civilly, and hath promised me kindly to grant all my reasonable desires.  Worm-man. 
But reason is seldom regular in Lovers.  Bear-man. 
Yes, when in cases of Interest, but not in cases of Appetite.  Worm-man. 
But Appetite is for the most part prevalent with ignorant Virgins, but not with experienced Widows.  Enter Monsieur satire, leading Madam Leverit, upon which sight Sir politic Fox-man runs into a hole behind the Hangings, and the while Monsieur satire is whispering in the ear of Madam Leverit, and kissing her hand, the Fox-man peeps out, and shakes his head; but after these Lovers were out of sight, the Fox-man comes out of his hole, and speaks to the Worm-man. Fox-man. 
Are they gone?  Worm-man. 
Yes.  Fox-man. 
Ill luck go with them.  Worm-man. 
They might have had some misfortune, for it was in your power to have disturbed their Courtship.  Fox-man. 
How could have I disturbed them?  Worm-man. 
Why, you might have fought with him, and have shew'd your valour to your Mistress, and perchance have been revenged of your Rival, by killing him.  Fox-man. 
So I should have proved myself a Fool, instead of a Politician, for there is hazard in fight, whether to kill or be killed; and if I be killed, I shall be soon forgotten, and my enemy will have the reputation to be the more skilful, and valianter Dueller; and if I kill my opposite, I may lose my estate; besides, it was never heard nor known, that great and subtle Politicians were valiant, and seldom that ever any Politician did fight, were it upon necessity, which the greatest Cowards will do.  Worm-man. 
Then Politicians will never get a Mistress from a heroic Cavalier.  Fox-man. 
I confess it were a difficult business if Politicians had not more subtlety to get, then valour to fight: But give me leave to tell you, That Politicians undermine Valour, as you do a tall and magnificent three, or a sweet flower; wherefore, I make no question but to undermine the sweet Lady and her Cavalier.  Worm-man. 
I wish you may; but if your policy fails, you will lose the rich Widow.  Fox-man. 
Never fear. Exeunt.  Enter Lady Monkey, and Squirrel her Maid, as in a visit to the Lady Leverit. Leverit. 
Lady Monkey, you have prevented me, for I was going to visit your ladyship, I only stayed for Monsieur satire to usher me.  Monkey. 
I hear Monsieur satire is your Servant, and that there is an intended match between you.  Lever. 
I desire your advice in the choice of a Husband, for I have many suitors, but the number confounds my Choice, wherefore I desire your assistance, to help me in my Choice.  Monkey. 
I shall give the best advice I can, if you declare to me, who are your suitors.  Lever. 
My suitors are Sir politic Fox, Monsieur satire, Monsieur Ass, and Sir Puppy Dogman.  Monkey. 
Is Sir Puppy Dogman your suitor?  Lever. 
Yes, and so earnest a suitor he is, that he will not let me rest in quiet.  Monkey. 
It seems Sir Puppy Dogman is a false dissembling man, for he Courts me with as many professions of love, as any man in the World can do.  Squirrel. 
If it please your Honour, that is usual with Mode-Gallants to Court all the Ladies they discourse with, and not only the Ladies, but the Ladie's Maids.  Monkey. 
Did he ever Court you?  Squirrel. 
As much as your ladyship, for when you are out of the way, he hunts me from room to room.  Lever. 
I do believe Mrs. Squirrel, for I have heard my Maid Dormouse say, That Monsieur satire would not let her sleep in quiet.  Monkey. 
If Mode-Gallants be of such a various humour, I will never mary a Mode-Gallant.  Squ. 
Then your Honour will not have a Mode-Husband.  Monkey. 
Why, do Mode-Husbands love Variety?  Squirrel. 
I know not whether they love Variety, but they Court many Women; for Mode-Husbands are for the most part Wittals, and they Court many Women to hid their disgrace.  Lever. 
Mrs. Squirrel speaks true, for my Husband Sir Horn-buck, was a wittol, and he would court all the heard of Females he met with; and the truth is, that Mode-Husbands are the best Husbands, by reason they suffer their Wives to be Courted.  Squ. 
Then surely Mr. Ass will be an excellent Husband.  Monkey. 
I am of your opinion, Squirrel.  Lever. 
Then I will leave the satire, Foxman, and Dogman, and choose Monsieur Ass.  Squirrel. 
In truth Monsieur Ass is a fine Gentleman, and is the greatest Wit in the Town.  Enter Monsieur Ass. Leverit. 
You are welcome Monsieur Ass, we were speaking of you.  Ass. 
It is an honour for me to be mentioned by fair Ladies; and if you please sweet Ladies to let me usher your splendorous Beauties to a Play, I shall account myself the happiest Man alive.  Monkey. 
Can you usher our Beauties without our Persons, Monsieur Ass.  Ass. 
No Madam, for your Beauties and Persons are inseparably joined together.  Monkey. 
The Fates forbid that my Person should last no longer then my Beauty, for then I am sure to have but a short life: But what Play is it that you would usher us to?  Ass. 
To a Mode-Play.  Monkey. 
Mode-Plays are all rhyme, and no reason, or all Action and no Wit.  Ass. 
To tell you the truth Lady, I am the Author the Play that is acted to day.  Monkey. 
If you be the Author, Monsieur Ass, surely the Play is an excellent Play; wherefore, Lady Leverit let us go and see this Play, that is of Monsieur Ass's making.  Leverit. 
Content.  Exeunt.    

The Names of the Actors of the foregoing Piece of a Play.  

Both suitors to the Lady Monkey. 

Lord Bear-man,  
Sir Puppy Dog-man,    
Both suitors to the Lady Leviret. 

Sir politic Fox,  
Monsieur satire,    
Mr. Worm-man, A Friend to Sir politic Fox.  
Monsieur Ass, A Libel-maker.  
Sir Blind-Buzzard A gamester, and a Servant to Ladies.  
The Lady Eagle, and many other Ladies; as Lady Woodcock, Sparrow, Titmouse, Chaffer, and others;  
The Lady Monkey, Mrs. Squirrel her Maid.  
Lady Leviret. Mrs. Dormouse her Maid.   
THe following Names were fitted for a farce, intended to have been after the Play in the Blazing-World; But the Play being never finished, for the Reasons mentioned in the Front of the Piece of that Play; The farce was not so much as begun.  

Cobweb Spider, A Weaver.  
Eagle Flyman, A Piper, a Lover to Spider's Wife.  
Dig Worm-man, A Miner for Mettal.  
Fish Glide-man, A Diver.  
Gib Cat-man, One of the Watch.  
Mode owl, A night Reveller.  
Goodwife Silkworm, A Spinstress.  
Goodwife Spider. Cobweb Spider's Wife.  
Madam Bat. Mode Owle's courtesan.