THE variety, A comedy, Lately presented by His Majesty's Servants at the Blackfriars.  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the PRINCE's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1649.   

Dramatis personae.  

SIr William, A Suitor to the Lady Beaufield.  
Master Newman, A Suitor to Mistress Lucy.  
Master Manley.  
Galliard, A French Dancing-Master.  
Simpleton, A Country Chiause.  
James, his Man.  
Jeer. Major. Companion to Simpleton.  
Jeer. Minor. Companion to Simpleton.  
Formal, Gentleman-usher to the Lady Beaufield.  
A Justice and his clerk.  
Lady Beaufield, A Widow.  
Mistress Lucy, her Daughter.  
Mistress Voluble.  
Nice, A Chambermaid.  
Mother to Simpleton.  
Barbara, A Chambermaid.  
Ladies.  
A Chirurgeon.  
A Coachman.  
Wenches.  
Constable and Officers.  
Servants and Attendants.    
THE variety  

Act I. Scene I.  Enter Sir William (at one door:) Mr Manly (at the other.) Sr. Wil. 
I Ack Manly, well met.  Man. 
Noble Sir William the humblest of your servants.  Sr. Wil. 
Come, thou shalt along with me.  Man. 
Whither?  Sr. Wil. 
To see my Mistress.  Man. 
May you thrive in your courtship to her: at this time I am engaged to other business.  Sir Wil. 
Can any thing concern a Gentleman equal with a handsome Lady?  Man. 
Yes, the receiving of money is more considerable with me at this time, than all the women in the world. But who is your Mistress Knight?  Sir Will. 
I dare tell thee, Madam Beaufield, the Lady of spirit, and entertainment, the only Magnetic widow i'th' Town.  Man. 
They talk her a wit, and a most superstitious observer of persons, and their garbs; I never had the happiness to kiss her hand, or be known to her, but I converse with some who are very high and loud in her character; another time Enter Jeere Major, and Minor. I'll wait upon you. Who are these?  Sir Will. 
In what grott hast thou spent thy time, that thou art ignorant of these people? These two are held the wits; That is the remarkable Jeerer of the Town, and 'has purchased to himself the title of a Jeer Major.  Man. 
Why, Is there a Regiment of Jeerers?  Sir Will. 
You shall pardon me, there are sets of them, as there are of Fiddlers; there is first a set of Court Jeerers, spruce half-witted men, confident, and fierce in their opinions; these are men that make themselves music, and their clothes make room for their wit; and go before in all companies: Then there is the town Jeerers, like oboes or Waits of the City, that think they are wise when they are loud, and make a noise when they come to Plays, to distract the next man's understanding. There are Jeerers at time of the year that go down into the Country, and infect Wakes, and Fairs, and the Sizes, with their impudence, with which they save charges, and are never without the name of a great Lord, to whom they are x Germane.  Man. 
But what has he deserved to be called a Jeere Major, and to bear such a title? I have seen the Rook.  Sir Will. 
An excellent ill nature has preferred him to opinion: the other has merited but the name of a Jeer minor; yet they can see me pleasant in their reproaches, and laugh in their own defence, which many times keeps off the cudgel.  Man. 
Nay, Jeering is a blessing that every man may have if he give his mind to it: but wit (if I remember what I was taught) happens not to one amongst five hundred on 'em. But I forget my affair.  Sir Will. 
Shall's meet and be merry this Evening.  Man. 
There's no music in me without my singing birds about me, than I am a Lord, and when I put on my habit of Leister, I am his own excellence.  Sir Will. 
Dost thou preserve that him or still?  Man. 
I may chance by the false light of the Evening march to thy Lodging.  Sir Will. 
Dost know where 'tis? I am removed. (whisper.  Man. 
So, no discoveries what Prince I am.  Sir Will. 
A match: that shape will beget us some mirth.  Man. 
Your most humble servant. Exit.  Sir Will. 
My Mistress is somewhat melancholy, if he come in that fantastical habit, we shall have rare sport beyond his expectation, to have the Ladies laugh at him. Exit.  Enter Simpleton, and Jeerers. Simp. 
This is very fine wit i'faith, and soon learned I think; a little more on't sweet Gentlemen.  Jeer. 
Suppose you were foxed last night; thus I come to you, and accost; Save you Sir; you must know I must laugh all the while; how fare you Sir? Do not some fumigations remain, some vapours not dissipated, a kind of Vertigo, a weakening of the Nerves, or so? Ha, ha, ha, what thinks your Worship of milk now, thin broth, or a Julip of pitiful Six for a penance to settle you, or a hair of the same whelp? Ha, ha, ha, there's wit for you.  Simp. 
There's no harm in the world in it, nor no exceptions if you laugh in the right place.  2 Jeer. 
Now imagine you met an honourable Gentleman that had got a hurt in the groin; thus I invade you; but the laugh must hold me too.  Simp. 
By any means, I cannot choose but laugh myself.  1 Jeer. 
There is no safe jeering without it.  2 Jeer. 
Sir, you have been at push of pike and received a hurt, upon some onslaught in some female service, Ha, ha, ha; your breath is Aromatic since you kissed your Mistress, and your water outsmells the violet, ha, ha, ha; by the powerful— yclept Turpentine, 'tis true; what pity 'tis you went without a charm, or had no acquaintance with a Laplander, to make you Venus-shot-free? Ha, ha, ha; and how many french tennis-balls have you in your flank now? ha, ha, ha.  1 Jeer. 
You sat up at play all night, and lost your money; another now.  Simp. 
Not I a penny, I sent a buff Gentleman that looked big upon me, after an ill hand, twenty pieces upon half a dozen oaths.  1 Jeer. 
A good pawn, keep his oaths, if he do not pay your money, take the forfeit, and if he be a Gamester he'll be undone for want of swearing.  2 Jeer. 
Suppose it lost?  1 Jeer. 
methinks cavalier you look pale since you came from the charnel-house, did the bones affright you? you are a most religious Gentleman when you are at dice, and do so pray for 3 fives 3 fours at in and in: with what devotion you look on the seven of Spades and eight of Diamonds at cribbage? ha, ha; how zealously you invoke the Saints to fit you with cards at picket, or lebet.  Simp. 
I invoke the Saints?  1 Jer. 
I speak to the catholic gamester, that understands all games.  Simp. 
By the way though, do you think there are any gamesters in heaven?  1 Jeer. 
It is to be feared, they may lose so much upon earth, they will hardly purchase a place there, or if any get thither, (which must be excellent throwing) he would be more called upon, and perhaps pulled down again, upon every dispute at play to be Groom porter.  2 Jeer. 
How like you these?  Simp. 
You shall both with me to my Mistress, and help to Jeer my rivals.  1 Jeer. 
Your Mistress?  Simp. 
I Mistress Lucy, Lady Beaufield's daughter, my Landlady Mistress Voluble has commended me to her, and I hope to carry her, if one Gentl. that she loves better do not get her away?  Ambo. 
we'll jeer him to death.  Simp. 
That were an excellent way, I think there is no statute against that, I care not what becomes on him, he put bitter jests upon me t'other day before the Ladies, and I making use of your wit Gentlemen, he told me to my face, that I talked nothing but clinches; as I am a Gentleman he did.  2 Jeer. 
Oh barbarous!  1 Jer. 
You shall wound him with his own weapon, and by a direction we can give you, you shall so jeer him, that he shall offer boot to change understandings with you.  2 Jeer. 
we'll make him so ridiculous, he shall laugh at himself.  Simp. 
That will be rare; I have sent for my Mother to town to be acquainted with Ladies, and learn dressing; my Landlady, hath promised to commend a Gentlewoman to wait upon her, and teach her the art of painting, and all the postures of a great woman; I do mean she shall marry some Knight or other, and be Ladified.  2 Jeer. 
It will be necessary.  Simp. 
Though I say it, the woman is flexible, and has been in her days— My Father might have been a Knight, and he had not been an Ass, and loved his money; but we lose time, let's to my Mistress Gentlemen.  Both 
We attend sir. Exeunt.  Enter formal (with a Table Book.) For. 
The same day, a Dolphin taken in a net at Woolidge, and ten live Pilchards in a salmon's belly— strange things! the 13. of July, the catamountain kittened in the Tower: an eelship spring a leak shooting the Bridge,— here are prodigious things. Enter Newman.  
Mr. Newman.  New 
Mr. Usher, how does your Lady?  For. 
She is in health.  New. 
And Mistress Lucy?  For. 
Both in the Garden. Sir you have good intelligence, what news abroad? a touch to your servant.  New. 
Alas you are acquainted with the state mysteries.  For. 
Troth Sir, I know little, or if I did, I would be loath to speak it, but to a friend, the times are dangerous.  New. 
You're right Mr. Formal, but be not nice, I know you are furnished with news, as well as some that give pensions, though 'twere to a Captain in these warlike-times, to have it made for 'em; you being a quotidian ambler upon impertinent visits, must needs glean the secrets of the court and state.  For. 
Sir I dare trust you with any thing, but pray do not speak on't; there is a great man in the world—  New. 
Think you so?  For. 
That—  New. 
What has he done?  For. 
You shall excuse me; but—  New. 
What his name?  For. 
You shall excuse me for that too; a word to the wise; you can guess what I mean, and let that pass; and now we talk of state affairs, there is a packet come out of the North, and a box— in your ear sir.  New. 
What is said to be in that packet?  For. 
there's the business, but that nobody knows.  New. 
Is't possible?  For. 
take't upon my word; you are a friend, I hear further at Mr. Secretary's, but you must say nothing of it, you undo me if you do, the King goes to Hampton Court next week, but how long he stays is uncertain. Sir, you see I put myself into your hands.  New. 
But is this done like a wiseman to reveal these mysteries, to trust these secrets to one you have not known above 7 Year, if I should inform what will become of you, and your estate? oh you must be cautious, though for my part—  For. 
Oh Sir! I know to whom I speak, and will tell you more, for I dare trust you with my soul; they say the Northern progress holds this year, and that the Elk is dead in the new great park  New. 
I hope not.  For. 
'tis as I tell you, by the fall of a tree, do not you remember a tempest four nights ago? then 'twas, blustering times Mr. Newman.  New. 
That makes Van Trump so troubled with the wind colic, but now the Hollanders, as they report, have many Engineers and Mathematicians set awork, how to keep and vent it at their pleasure, and so to serve in Navigation for their ships, that there may be ventus libre, as well as ventus clausus, answerable to the two Seas.  For. 
Ha, ha! that's news indeed, alas mine is but domestic, but what do you hear of London Bridge? it is whispered by some it will, and some again point blank say it will not be repaired; but make not me the Author.  New. 
And I do hear the Camels decay at Tibal's: but pray no more of it from me.  For. 
You shall not doubt me Sir, you do not hear of the Dolphin—  New. 
Of France?  For. 
Taken as Woolidge in a net.  New. 
Of Italian cutwork.  For. 
The news is not common of the Pilchards, the catamountain, nor the eelship?  New. 
Not a word.  For. 
You shall hear more; I am your servant. Here is Mistress Lucy Sir, and Mistress Voluble.  Enter Lucy and Voluble. Vol. 
I confess he has no overcharge of wit, that will be your happiness, he has a good estate, and you may live with more delight than a court Lady, he is a handsome man too, I am bound to give you my advice, for your mother's sake, whose servant I am by many obligations, she has been my customer for face-water, and pomatum these many years.  Lu. 
But if you be so skilful, as you are professed, and read in the secrets of nature, you can tell by your art where I shall fix my affection, do not you know Mr. Newman.  Vol. 
I never see the Gentleman, but I am not ignorant that he matches in the Van, and leads the file of your amorous servants, but—  Lu. 
But what?  Vol. 
If you love yourself.—  Luc. 
He is a well-bred Gentleman, and one deserves my good opinion, he's here.  New. 
They observe me— Exit Form:  
I kiss your hand fair Mistress Lucy: what's she that looks so like one of the sibyls?  Vol. 
Is this the Gentleman you declare so civil, and well-bred, Lady? If I have any skill take heed on him, he has an unlucky countenance.  New. 
This Gipsy will but cozen you.  Lu. 
She is excellent cunning, and has foretold strange things, believe it.  New. 
If my Mistress have an opinion of her Art, she may do me a displeasure; I have heard much talk of this woman, some say she is a Witch too, and wears the Devil in her thumb Ring, I would not anger one of her Familiars. Take no offence Mistress at the rudeness of my Language, this Lady shall give a very fair pawn, the word of a Gentlewoman, that I shall be of good behaviour, if you please not to interpret me too hastily.  Vol. 
There is some text in your forehead Sir that wants a comment, but I'll not so much study your satisfaction.  Lu. 
Nay, thou shalt not be displeased with him.  Enter Lady Beaufield, and Sir William. Vol. 
Alas, I am not angry; here's my Lady and Sir William.  Beau. 
You are Master of an excellent language Sir.  Sir Wil. 
You honour me too much, it is because you are the excellent Subject Madam, and being the perfection of your Sex, an argument to create Eloquence in every tongue.  Beau 
Then I must think you flatter; these praises are misplaced. I shall suspect you love me not, or are not wise.  Sir Will. 
Why Madam?  Beau. 
You take such pains, and make a pilgrimage to that's within your reach; I must confess I like Discourse, but think not all my soul placed in my ear; although I love a Lute well, it follows not I should dote upon a cymbal.  Sir Wil. 
A cymbal?  Beau. 
And dance as I were stung with a Tarantula, when you are at it, roasting of a Galliard? You overdo this instrument, give me your courtship in a phrase is fit to own and understand.  Sir Will. 
Your pardon Madam; I affect not bold and overracked Hyperboles, although I might insist upon the wealth and fullness of your merits, to which, all praise, that can flow from me, is Justice, such command you have upon your humble Servant, I rather wish my tongue a forfeit to perpetual silence, then with one harsh sound offend your ear; you'll give me leave I hope to say I love you.  Beau. 
This is English Sir, and some do call it sense; 'tis fair, and fit, when any Lady's private with her Servant; 'tis what I learned a child, I have not yet outgrown the knowledge.  Sir Wil. 
Did you love so young?  Beau. 
I understand the meaning of your language, 'tis not perplexed, and you may love me too, and tell me so, and I may understand you; what need compartments here, friezes, and words of Architecture, that will make things hard to the understanding? As you could not build a sense in love without 'em? Yet I bar not the freedom of Discourse, and use of Metaphors: And you may praise us too in Verse, or Prose, to show the exaltation of your wit in company, but 'tis the worst discourse when we are private.  Sir Will. 
If I had confidence she would direct me— action I believe when opportunity Invites—  Beau. 
To what good Knight? be not mistaken, I commend courtship in words, that are made round like pills fit to be swallowed, and not ragged bullets.  Sir Wil. 
'Tis a strange Lady, I know not how to take her.  Vol. 
My Lady? Madam—  Beau. 
Art thou come?  Vol. 
Is it your ladyship's pleasure I shall read today?  Beau. 
By any means, the Ladies will not fail, we should forget our Academy: Sir William we must entreat your patience, and Master Newman. Vol. whispers to Sir Wil.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Madam, the Ladies.  Beau. 
Say I wait upon 'em.  Sir Wil. 
I'll take my opportunity.  Vol. 
You will engage him to credulity, and prepare some mirth.  Enter formal. For. 
monsieur Galliard the Dancer attends Madam.  Beau. 
He must give way to another exercise; Sir William you shall do us a favour if you please to entertain a little time with him in the next Chamber, our Lecture will not be long, and sweet Mr Newman the Frenchman will delight you with his discourses, he has a tongue as confident as his feet, if you can but humour him.  Sir Wil. 
You shall command us Madam.  Beau. 
That Done we'll join societies and mirth. Come Mrs Voluble.  Vol. 
I hope you will excuse my imperfections. Exeunt.   

Act II. Scene I.  Table and six Chairs set out. Enter Lady Beaufield, Lucy, and other Ladies, Mistress Voluble. Vol. 
IT is an infinite favour, (most excellent Ladies) and must needs speak the sweetness of your nature and dispositions, that you're pleased to hear me, so weak and unworthy of the Chair, rather deserving to be in the number of Disciples, than a professor in any of the female sciences; but as your virtues are more exemplary, in this honour to me, the humblest of your Servants, it will become me, in the gratitude to so noble a bounty, not to waste time, but succinctly to deliver, what I could not finish without trespass on your patience; at my last reading I did conclude with old Ladies, that will cozen Nature, and Time, and abuse the men they love best; to these I only add, it is not Mercury to change their skins like Snakes, but they must fill up wrinkles as well as hide grey hairs: your red leather is for Country Wenches, your white wash, or Spanish Fucus is the best, but a tire woman, or coverer of time or nakedness must be kept in pension: for it is now fashionable to buy one of her apprentice Girls out of her time, as Lords and Gentlemen do Barbers boys. Amongst other ornaments, Ribbons challenge no mean place, the variety, and blazon of these, I have elsewhere examined. For your finest Laces, the Angel in Cheap, but they must be dearer than others, because they come in Coaches, for pride or stateliness in any thing adds charges. Touching Gloves, might I advise, I would have a few selected Ladies, to procure some ingenious Gentleman at a reasonable pension to lie ledger for them at Rome for frangipani Gloves, and such other correspondent things as may be of moment and great consequence to your Ladyships: But then I must advertise, and most seriously, that he may be a man of parts, and somewhat smelling toward the Roman Wash, that he may give you intelligence of that State, and humours of the Cardinals, or those that pretend to it, be they little or great, for this concerns the state Ladies here: For your swarthy mountebank Italian, he utters sophisticated Holborn Gloves for frangipani, Essex Cheese for Parmesan, rotten post for sweet powder, pickled white Leather for Mushrooms, and cozens more with his broken English, than the wits can get honestly with their best language.  1 Lady 
The Merchant of Italian sausages, A meet Quack.  Vol. 
But then I would advise your Ladyships to have another Gentleman sent into Spain for perfumes, pocket Fans, orange flower water, Orange flower butter beauty, Aqua de Chedrey, and many provocatives, as Contra yerva, and Joco lata.  2 Lady 
It is a very learned Gentlewoman.  Vol. 
For Holland, 'tis too dear in Spain, therefore for a conscionable cozenage over and above, here are honest Dutchmen will serve you most faithfully. For Jewels, you may buy them at what rates you please, they add lustre to a Lady, and you may sell them at a fift or sift part, which is very well for a great Madam, if you would put them off at the best rate, you must get some Doctor of Physic, or broking Apocryphal Captain, to show them (as if there were fornication in it) behind the door, hanging or curtain, which makes his fingers like Jewellers cards to set rings on, for there are bawds for rings and Jewels, as well as for other commodities.  Beau. 
What do you think of this caution Madam?  Vol. 
For your Linen, it must be fine, and fresh every day, therein consists humane delight. For linen breeches, though some think them cleanly, in my opinion they imitate a Dutch Stove too much. For Aprons, plain Holland is most becoming, starched Lawn was in Queen Elizabeth's time, and will not endure rumpling, every thing must be squared by use and elegance; but for your white Shoes, rich Roses, light-coloured silk Stockings, and such variety below stairs, they are great Inducers, as a learned man told me, (I will not say a Divine) for Love, most excellent Ladies, doth sometimes ascend, as well as descend.  
But still remember Ladies, that your Fan be so little, as not to lose the least smirk, or grace of your countenance for it, for then being so small, when you put it to your face, some Courtiers may take it for a black patch. Then for your oaths, I protest is out of fashion, I profess for a Justice of Peace's Wise, I vow too masculine, i'faith for a Chambermaid, Introth for a launderer, As you hope to live, too like a Prayer; Never stir, would disadvantage a Lady many ways, besides visits; For the active wenches of the time, May they be damned eternally, and lose all their designs if it be not so; Upon my honour sounds well, which in a great Lady can never be forfeited if she be in love, for great women have their privilege of Nobility, and can never be forsworn like the Common people.  Lu. 
Is Perjury in women no breach of Laws?  4 Lady. 
You have the doctor's opinion.  Vol. 
One touch, if you grow old, which I omitted formerly, When time, which is the moth of beauty, creeps upon you, you must be sure to have so many leaves and curtains before your windows, that you may show yourselves at more various lights than the most cozening Mercer his faded and deceitful Wares, for the youth of your white Satin will be then but pearl colour at the best, it may be but ash-colour, and therefore refuse no advantage to give it gloss, according to the conclusion of a modern Poet, which at this present shall be mine.  
Wise Ladies must refuse no Art  
For age will snow upon their heart:  Beau. 
You have done us a great honour, and Ladies you shall not deny me this favour to taste of a small banquet that waits upon you in the next room, shall I show the way. Exeunt.  Enter Sir William, Mr. Newman, Monsieur Galliard. Gal. 
Me be content to have de little patience, and be my trot, me tell you, vat me have seen a today, de fine sport in de, me come into de great man today, me make de reverence Alamode, come ill fault, and he make me de estrange a Sir reverence de tird time, dat ever you saw.  Sir Wil. 
That was not civil.  New. 
Oh Monsieur, every man has not the activity of your feet.  Gal. 
By my fat, 'tis very estrange a ding, dat they will suffer a des men to be near a de King, a de Queen, de Prince, or de Princess, they vil marra de understanding very much.  Sir Wil. 
Why monsieur that lies at the other end.  Gal. 
Begar you shall excuse a me, for de Courtier Alamode, dear de vit lie in de foot, begar mi is nobody can be wiseman, dat does no make a de most excellent reverence, dat is most certain, dat is the best ting in de hole varle.  Sir Wil. 
I am clear of his opinion.  New. 
But do you think Caesar Sir, or most of the Emperors or worthies of the world, studied the liberal science of the foot, or puissant toe?  Gal. 
No, but begar dat make dem die all unfortunate, for if they had tinke of noting but de reverence, they might ha' live a great a while.  Sir Wil. 
Excellent well argued, and very clear in my understanding.  New. 
I confess the wisdom of it Sir, but for the wit do you think that lies there?  Gal. 
Dat be de best vit can be possible, for your vit, vat is your vit? your vit is to break a de jest, vel, look you now a me, me vil break a de jest, dat is like dat a me lor, dat is like dat of de Knight, dat is like dat of de Gentleman, ha, ha, ha! dear is now one, two, tre very good jests, by my trot they are so very good jest, dat make a me sick wide laugh, and begar me vil make a de page, de lackey, & all de fool in de court, break a des very good jest, very quickly, dat is a noting.  Sir Wil. 
To any purpose?  New. 
What do you think of the grave Aldermen? they are wise, and yet they do not trouble themselves much about legs.  Gal. 
Be my trot, me speak a to de King, and to de Queen, to give me a patten, dat none shall teach a de Aldermen to make a de reverence but myself, and me vil undertake dat vid in one 12 a mont, but den they must do nothing else, they shall make a de reverence, vid de Aldermen in de paris, and dance a coranto, a Cereban, a Montague, and dat vil be very brave.  Sir Wil. 
What faculties some men have?  New. 
But what shall business do in the mean time monsieur?  Gal. 
Is not dis very great a business? may begar, me vil undertake to de King and to de Queen to make a my lord Mayre de Sheriff and de Aldermen very fine a mask.  Sir Wil. 
And to write it monsieur?  Gal. 
Awe, de write? dat is noting alamode, your speesh two, tre, yard long, pshaw? give a me de quick a spirit, de fancy, de brave scene, de variety of de Antimasque, de nimble a foot, no matre de sense, begar it vole be de brave in de christian varle.  Sir Wil. 
There is no question to be made.  Gal. 
And be my trot if me have a noder patten for de counsel learned in the law, for to teach dem de reverence, dat vil be very great varke, but my diligence, and skill in dat matre, have no despair, to effect in time dis great benefit, and dat vil make a de law flourish; and England a brave England, begar.  New. 
I won't doubt your abilities, but I fear the capacity of the Gentlemen you undertake.  Sir Wil. 
But what will you look for now, for your pains monsieur? that is considerable.  Gal. 
Begar me look for very much, for 'tis much pain, and 'tis brave ting, beside me look for a statur of de brass, in de palace yard, ven me go out of dis varle.  Sir Wil. 
You will deserve it as a rare patriot; but what manner of reverence would you have the grave lawyers to Imitate, you must consider their robes:  Gal. 
Observe a me.  New. 
Such a reverence under your favour, would not become men of their gravity, one always looks for a Coranto after it, and provokes a man to whistle, or sing when he sees it, and makes one think still, what you would have a month, a little too much of the activity.  Gal. 
Begar you no understand de matre, vere is your brain? dear is noting in de varle like a dat motion, for de Gentleman, and for de Gentlewoman.  Sir Wil. 
Yes by your leave sir there is something else that is as good for them.  Gal. 
I vil tell you now, begar, here is a de kinsman dat is a me, and he live here very much time, before he come, they vent in vid deir toes, and hold der cloak just a dear, and de hat so, fie, le diable! and now they valk vid deir toes out for brave genty, you call dat a de splay foot, but me vonder dat de Lady no come, begar me no use to dis patience, and de vaite, pray tell you Madam dat me have autre business vid de Lor, and de autre Lady have de use of my foot begar.  New. 
Oh Monsieur by no means.  Sir Wil. 
Let us prevail.  Gal. 
'tis no good you hold a me, begar, me no stay two minute to save a your soul, dat is de resolution of de Cavalier de France.— Exit  Sir Wil. 
Would any man believe there should be so much folly in this Cubit square?  New. 
Do you think he is a French Dancer? let that answer you, and wonder he has no more Capriccios. But these Ladies are very tedious, we must have this Lecture put down.  Sir Wil. 
They are more like to purchase Gresham College, and enlarge it for public Professors, you may live to see another University built, and only women commence Doctors.  New. 
But now we talk of learned women, you have been acquainted with Mistress Voluble, has she the abilities the women talk of? they say she is a Fortune-teller.  Sir Wil. 
She is for more than Artificial White and Red, some think her guilty of the Black-Art, she has foretold so many strange things; she has had two Husbands, and prophesied long before, how, and when they should give up the Ghost, if she be not a Witch she has the more wrong, for she is believed a devilish cunning woman.  New. 
Possible!  Sir Wil. 
There's not a Lady with child but consults her Astrology, whether it shall be male or female; and the waiting women how long they shall keep their maidenheads, and who shall father the first borne, the Master or the servingman; she is held a Sibyl in the City, and tells oraculously whether the Husband or the Wife shall die first, how, when, and where, and all this sometime by observation of the hand, or forehead; she can see a maid through a mask, and is excellent at stolen goods, for she can see a thief through a millstone as well as a conjuring glass; in brief, she is held prodigious at Divination, and most specially seldom fails in her Judgement of the two destinies, Matrimony, and Hanging, this I have heard Sir.  Enter Simpleton, and Jeerers Sim. 
Sir William Your Servant, Master Newman? that's he.  1 Jeer. 
Jeer him soundly.  New. 
What Gentlemen are these?  2 Jeer. 
He has betrayed his ignorance already, he does not know us.  Simp. 
What, not the Major, and the Minor?  New. 
Not the Major, nor the Minor.  1 Jeer. 
Cede majori Sir, Cede majori.  2 Jeer. 
Parce minori Sir, Parce minori.  New. 
Here will be a fine conclusion from these premises, and they were worth considering.  Simp. 
These two are wits.  Sir Will. 
Are they your wits? Pray heaven you may not lose 'em.  Simp. 
If you love wit observe a little, and if I do not make you laugh, never laugh while you live.  Sir Wil. 
I thank you Sir.  Simp. 
You shall here how I will jeer Newman, my Rival now; such wit, wit of the last Edition: Let me have fair play, and these most ingenious friends of mine shall be judges.  Sir Will. 
I think so, 'twill pass time till the Ladies come.  Simp. 
Mr Newman, you are a pretty Scholar, pray what is wit?  Sir Will. 
A thing you want.  1 Jeer. 
A very pretty Problem.  New. 
will you or these Gentlemen be bound to understand me?  Simp. 
Ha, ha, ha, that's a clinch, to understand me.  New. 
A clinch?  Sir Wil. 
I understand none.  Simpl. 
Oh sir, a palpable clinch; Ha, ha, ha, ask my friend.  New. 
Is that your opinion?  Simp. 
There's another clinch i'faith, ha, ha, ha.  New. 
Pray sir, what is't o'clock?  Sir Wil. 
The mystery of this?  New. 
What is a clinch sir, do you know what 'tis?  Simp. 
I neither know, nor care what 'tis, so I laugh, and swear 'tis a clinch, that's disgrace and reproach enough to any man. With what ease can we cry up our own wit and another's down, only by saying that's a clinch. I think I ha' jeered him.  1 Jeer. 
Oh the ways to wit are much shortened in these latter times, 'tis a picant age.  New. 
They have a gunpowder-plot to blow up sense; pray Gentlemen take truce with your spleens, and the wisest of you three inform me what is wit; you have; no patience to hear me; or if you will not define it, speak something that is witty, and in fashion.  1 Jeer. 
I'll tell you then:  Simp. 
You speak English to be understood, O base!  New. 
What language is your wit?  Simp. 
English, but elaborate, for example— now beat up your kettle drums.  1 Jer. 
Sir, if my optics fail not, I have read  
Each mystic line within your brow, my Genius  
Is much exalted at your gaudy Phisnomy;  
shall's to the house of mighty noise and surfeits,  
There tinct our souls with blood of purple grape?  New. 
what's all this?  Simp. 
Ha, ha, I thought you were ignorant.  1 Jeer. 
Give him the Paraphrase.  2 Jeer. 
All this is, he remembers perfectly he has seen you before.  Simp. 
And desires you but to go to the Tavern, and drink a pint of wine; here's language!  Sir Wil. 
Is't possible?  New. 
What a deal of Embroidery is spent upon I am glad to see you well; How long has this been a vulgar language? You would court a Mistress rarely in this cabal.  Sir Wil. 
But how shall a man beget such high conceits?  Simp. 
Have you a desire to know Sir William? shall I tell him?  1 Jeer 
If he will make it a secret.  Simp. 
Why, turn yourself round as fast as you can, and the first things you speak, your head being dizzy, will be these.  Enter Beaufield, Lucy, Voluble. New. 
What a bevy of Buffoons have we here?  Beau. 
We are at your mercy Gentlemen; but you that had a patience to expect so long, cannot want virtue to forgive, since we had no intent to make so great a trespass; where's Monsieur Galliard?  Sir Wil. 
Madam, he's gone, something displeased you had no more regard to a Gentleman of his quality; his time was precious, and some other Lords and Ladies expected him.  Beau. 
His absence will admit of easy pardon, 'tis a most superstitious fool; what Gent. are these?  Sir Wil. 
They are things were meant by nature, Madam, a cure for melancholy, we have had such sport and nonsense with 'em  Beau. 
We shall lose time upon 'em, please you, we'll take a turn i'th' Gallery.  (Ex. Beau. and Sir Wil. Simp. 
Mistress Lucy be tender-hearted to these Gentlemen.  New. 
They are only fit for your compassion.  Sim. 
They are worth your acquaintance, Master Newman knows 'em; have not their wits a pretty edge?  New. 
Dismiss your Beagles I shall beat you all three else, and monstrously, indeed I shall; be ruled, and keep your wits warm, I shall sling out like winter.  Simp. 
I thank you sir and you be in earnest; I  Enter James. 
protest Major, and Minor, the man's in wrath, away.  Exeunt Ieer. 
How now james.  Ia. 
I am glad I ha' found you sir, your mother's come to town, she rode behind me.  Simp. 
Not too loud, where is she? I would not have it known till she have other clothes, and better breeding.  Ia. 
She's at your Lodging sir.  Simp. 
Mistress Voluble, my mother's come by directions, mum, and make haste; sweet Mistress Lucy, I beseech you take it not unkindly if I depart.  Lu. 
By no means noble sir.  Simp. 
This is my man that has brought me news out of the Country forsooth.  Lu. 
None of your Tenants dead I hope?  Simp. 
Some are copyholders, and I hope you wish me no harm, but I vow 'tis not my fault that I must take my leave so abruptly.  Lu. 
You have a cheerful licence sir.  Simp. 
As I hope to make new Leases, and sell a hundred Acres of wood this Term, I am very sorry, but I will wait upon you in the Evening. Noble Mr. New.  New. 
Ha, ha, that's a clinch.  Simp. 
I am your humble Servant.  New. 
Another Clinch I protest. Ex. Sim:  Lu. 
Now we have opportunity I prithee Mrs Voluble for my sake tell him his Fortune; I have been a suitor to know your destiny.  New. 
It will be a favour, it was in my ambition to desire it.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
My Lady desires your presence in the gallery.  Lu. 
I must observe her command, but you may satisfy the Gentleman in my absence, and Mr: Newman when you know how the stars have determined of you, make not me a more stranger.  New. 
I shall be only fortunate to be yours.  Exit Lucy and Servant. 
Now Mistress Voluble, if you be acquainted with my stars, and know what fortune they decree me, I stand full prepared; what lines are in my forehead, you observe so?  Vol. 
Pray let me see your hand.  New. 
Freely command it.  Vol. 
Some that do make a trade of fortune-telling (which is beneath my practice) flatter meam for their base end of profit, I'll be plain.  New. 
Truth loves no other habit, you prepare me to give you the more faith.  Vol. 
'tis very strange, but this is most prophetical, you are—  New. 
What?  Vol. 
In love.  New. 
'Tis very likely.  Vol. 
It may not prove so lucky, love is a melancholy business.  New. 
I think it be. Is this all you can tell by your art?  Vol. 
You would know your destiny.  New. 
What please my stars and you?  Vol. 
Take this for oracle then, you will do something in a melancholy humour will endanger your neck.  New. 
My neck? shall I be hanged? better the witch were burned.  Vol. 
Fare you well Sir. Exit.  New. 
A pox a your prognostic, she has put me  
Into a sweat, and I do more than half  
Believe she is a witch, or worse, in a melancholy humour; must I do something to endanger my neck? unth? I shall put myself into a desperate melancholy with thinking on't; I will be mercy, 'tis time to laugh and sing, thoughts do not vex me to a new tune, there's no way but to a Tavern, I'll seek out company.  

Love by your leave a while, and lazy folly,  
Sack is the Antidote to melancholy.   Exit.  

Act. III. Scaena. I.  Enter Simpleton, Mother (in riding clothes) Mrs. Voluble, fames. Moth. 
I Have obeyed you son, but I shall never fadge with these things you talk of.  Simp. 
Then you're an ass, every child can do it.  Moth. 
ay, if I had been a Gentlewoman of a child, much might ha' been done.  Vol. 
Alas after a little time, you will take pride every day of yourself; I wonder this wench comes not! what? your son has a care of you, and 'tis never too late to learn to be a Lady; this maid I commend to you, is a very rare dresser to a pin, and will keep your linen with all variety of sweet bags and powders, that can be imagined; and for your rich gowns, she will preserve 'em with the new fashion-sereclothes, and make them outlast Egyptian bodies.  Ja. 
But must my old Mistress be a Lady? that will be fine i'faith.  Simp. 
The Tailor has taken measure for a Lady I am sure, and three or four yards of Satin, more than will serve for a Gentlewoman.  Ja. 
Then she must be kirsened, and called Madam.  Simp. 
Peace and hearken to my Landlady.  Vol. 
Besides she has the rarest receipts to destroy moths, and such a sovereign medicine against fleas, that your maids need never to squeak as if they were ravished, peeping into their smocks before they go to bed.  Mo. 
That will be fine.  Vol. 
The wench I tell you on, knows how to consume Corns too, and for fidelity about your box of teeth, false hair, your glass eye.—  Simp. 
My Mother has two eyes of her own, but that one squints.  Vol. 
Then for all manner of Caudles, Aleberries, Possets, and preserves in all kinds, and should you lie in this maid will be the most diligent creature about warming of clothes, and for broths and jellies most excellent, and for all strengthens of nature; then if any of your women be too apt to conceive any thing that is ill, she hath her drinks of retention, and expulsion— but Madam  Simp. 
She is no Lady yet.!  Vol. 
Sir I speak what I foresee, and therefore among ourselves, Madam again, this maid is very discreet, you will know what that means, not troublesome when your Ladyship would be private, nor suffer any else to trouble you, and beside she will never be in love, which is no small matter for a waiting woman; she is here already— Enter Nice .Mrs. Nice you are fortunate to be recommended, to attend this, (but a Gentlewoman yet.).  Moth. 
She is too fine.  Simp. 
Hold your prating, and hear my Landlady, have not you clothes to come home?  Nice. 
I shall think my stars have been careful of me, if I may have the happiness to show my duty to so noble a Lady.  Moth. 
She calls me Lady too.  Simp. 
They know what will become on you.  Moth. 
Oh that I could speak so gainly; I am but new come out of the Country, but if you please to be as good as your word, I will do the best I can, to be thankful, as they say.  Simp. 
My mothers very raw, you must coddle her, you will have but a foul hand with her, do you think she will ever come to any good? the truth is, I am ashamed on her, and therefore be not a known that she is my mother, till you ha' disciplined her, she must live very privately.  Vol. 
How shall her name, person and estate be published? do not you mean to have her a Lady?  Ja. 
By any means sir, and let me be one of her Gentlemen.  Vol. 
I have it; do you observe the maid I commended to her? She is a Gentlewoman always bred among Ladies, and knows how to talk, and carry herself, before any Knight or Lord in the Court: What, if for the more expedite way to your mother's instructions this wench should take upon her sometime to be her Mistress, and in her name, before strangers, exercise some pride and courtship? 'tis a nearer way by example than precept to arrive at any thing; and by observing her Fashion, Garb, and Language, your mother may be sooner ripe for a Ladyship by at least two months, beside all the rules she may receive from us in private.  Simp. 
Admirable! My mother is a towardly old woman.  Vol. 
Old? you do not know how painting may transform Age; and the wench is not so young as she seems; howsoever this will be only to strangers, and you may with more reputation own her for your mother among Gallants, 'tis but saying she was married at twelve, and you popped into the world before thirteen.  Simp. 
I will leave her to your tuition, and this Gentlewoman's education.  Vol. 
Then 'tis thus Madam, come hither Nice.  Simp. 
james, thou shalt wait upon me to my Mistress when thou hast better clothes.  Ia. 
I have a new suit coming up from top to toe.  Simp. 
I'll never live in the Country again, such another clod was I when I came to London; mother you must be dutiful, 'tis for your own good; but do you hear Landlady, have you spoke the powerful word to my Mistress? Shall I have her from Newman?  Vol. 
I have read his destiny, and if things hit with his credulous nature, he will make himself uncapable of her affection; you are the next in preferment, never fear it, and leave your mother to our method and government, we will both edify, and ladify her.  Simp. 
With all my heart: buoy Lady mother.  Vol. 
If please you we'll withdraw; you must be secret james. Exeunt.  Enter Manly (in Leister's habit) the two jeerers meet him. 1 Jeer: 
What have we here?  2 Ieer. 
The Ghost of Leister?  1 Ieer. 
Thus I have seen him painted,  
'Tis some humorous Gentleman.  2 Ieer. 
A proper fellow?  Man. 
It is not dark enough; how they gape at me?  1 Ieer. 
Let's make sport with him, he shows admirably by twilight, he has not traveled far sure; such a shape would get money in Bartholmew Fair.  2 Ieer. 
Are you a high German sir?  1 Ieer. 
Yes, 'tis a Fencer; did you not hear of a Swiss that came over to be beaten at eight several weapons?  2 Ieer. 
By your favour sir, no, 'tis no high German, those breeches are not worn in Switzerland, there is something of the codpiece—  1 Ieer. 
'Tis not His Majesty's Operator for the Teeth, that hangs about Fleet-bridge.  2 Ieer. 
He's not so handsome.  1 Ieer. 
Were not you one of the brothers that guarded the Dial at Bow Church, and used to put Cheapside in mind of their quarters?  2 Ieer. 
No, he wants a Pole-axe; do you think he came not off some Conduit?  1 Ieer. 
I am sure he came not off o'th' saltseller, He is a size too tall.  Man. 
These rogues will draw a Regiment of Prentices about me presently, and then shall I be apprehended for some sea monster, and thrown into the Thames at the next Stairs, to show their worships how well I can swim— have you any thing to say to me?  2 Jeer. 
'Tis English that he speaks, he is one of us.  Man. 
I am one that will venture to beat you both in the same language, if you leave me not the sooner.  1 Jeer. 
'Tis some that skulks in this disguise for debt; we'll say we are Officers, and pretend to arrest him.  Man. 
Nay then have at you bandogs—  Enter Newman, and Gentlemen, (their swords drawn.) 
A rescue?  2 Ieer. 
Hold.  New. 
Down with the Bailiffs, arrest a Gentleman in the Kings high way— Ex. Manly  Gent. 
So, so, he is escaped. Ex. Gent.  New. 
You cursed tadpoles, cannot a Gentleman walk i'th' streets, but such Tenterhooks must catch him by the cloak?  1 Ieer. 
Noble Master Newman, we are your servants; do not you know us? we are no officers.  New. 
Ha? If my optics err not, I have read  
Each mystic line within your brows,  
Ye shall both—  1 Ieer. 
Have our skins cut into measures.  New. 
To the Tavern with me.  2 Jeer. 
With all our hearts.  New. 
We will be drunk together.  Both. 
You shall command us..  New. 
At my new Tavern where the wine shall flow as at a Coronation; fifty Fiddles, and a noise of Trumpets come along with me; you two shall send your tickets out for wenches.  1 Ieer. 
Of all complexions, and degrees, from the Madam Alamode, to the humble waistcoater. Exeunt.  Enter formal, and Lucy. For. 
I beseech you Mrs Lucy make not me the Author, I affect Mr Newman, but this I received from good intelligence.  Lu. 
I am miserable; I did not think his nature could degenerate into so wild a change, it is some witchcraft, I must grieve for him though I dare not show it.  Fo. 
There is a report, I would be loath you should name me in't, but they confidently say; I dare not justify upon my knowledge, that he has killed—  Lu. 
Good heaven defend; then I am more undone.  For. 
Nay, these are the fruits of wine and surfeits; I did not see him bleed, but I heard it from a man of quality, and one that had been Collector in the Parish, who told me for certain that Mr Newman did kill him.  Lu. 
Whom? my afflicted heart.  For. 
It was an Officer that was slain.  Lu. 
The more unpardonable.— Where?  For. 
In the Parish of All-hallows Barking, the Bell man never dawned since, coming drunk out of a Tavern at twelve— he made no more ado— there was not such another dog within the Walls; it waited upon the foresaid Bellman a nights in His Majesty's service, to waken the Parish, and all day was hired out by a Blindman, that begged, with a Bell about his neck.  Lu. 
Is that all the murder he has committed?  For. 
All? you do not consider the blind Beggar that's undone by't, or who shall carry the lantern at midnight, to light Gentlemen to the best Ale, and a Bawdy-house; but for my part I'll be no evidence, if the City will suffer such an injustice within their Walls I can be silent, and think.  Lu. 
Would this were all the danger, but I fear since he took up this rudeness and strange carriage he may deserve more sorrow.  For. 
I love not to meddle in other men's affairs, but I know something.  Lu. 
I prithee tell me all.  For. 
The Tavern he frequents he has made his Theater at his own charge to act intemperance; o'er the great Room be uses to be drunk in, they say, he has built a heaven, a player's heaven, and thence a Throne's let down, in which, well heated, successively they are drawn up to the clouds to drink their Mistress health, while the mad mortals adore their God of Grape, and gaping look like earth that's chapped with heat, although before within three minutes they were drenched.  Lu. 
Dost know that place?  For. 
You shall excuse me, I know nothing.  Lu. 
Prithee be not so cautious, I am his friend, and pity him; if for my sake thou wilt but find him out, and tell him I desire to change but a few words, trust me, I may amply requite this service.  For. 
You must then keep secret what I undertake, I'll do't. Be cautious to whom you speak, we must be circumspect. I will go off invisible. Exit.  Enter Galliard. Lu. 
Monsieur Galliard, my Lady expects you.  Gal. 
Begar me no like a dat reverence, me vil change a dat:  Lu. 
'Tis the French fashion as you taught Me Monsieur.  Gal. 
Ouy, 'tis de French fashion, but de French fashion is always to change, and dis reverence displease a me very much, because you go back, back vid your buttock, as if some vod take you by dat, to vat me vil give a no name.  Enter Sir William, and Simpleton. Sir Wil. 
Monsieur Galliard my Lady will be here presently.  Simp. 
Sweet Mrs lucy.  Gal. 
Dat de reverence is no good of de man, me must change dat too; by me trot me doubt dat dis great business vil almost break a my brain, dis great varke, and before a mask of de King and de Queen, me can eat a no meat, no drink, no sleep, and me grow so very a lean, vid de contemplation, a so much, by my trot de privy counsel is no so much troubled as me be vid dis, oh, le Diable! deirs is noting, they sit all the vile day do deir business, me bissey boot head, and de foot cap a pie, in de french tune, and dat is great matre begar.  Sir Wil. 
You esteem it highly monsieur.  Gal. 
Me tell you, and me tell you no tale, 'tis great matre to make a de Lor, to make a de Lady, to make a de Gentleman, to make a de Gentilvoman, and de autre man to dance, and to make a de good reverence, for begar dat vil make a de King, de great kin in de varle.  Sir Wil. 
How can that be Sir?  Gal. 
Me tell you, ven they are so bissey, to learn a de dance, they vil never tinke of de Rebellion, and den de reverence is obedience to Monarchy, and begar obedience is ale de ting in de varke.  Sir Wil. 
I'll swear your state affairs lie in your foot, and you are wiser there, than some heads are, and may be a precedent for after ages; but what music would you govern the people by?  Gal. 
Begar by de best french fiddles can be got?  Sir Wil. 
What think you of an Irish harp, a state organ, or a passionate voice to a lover's lute?  Gal. 
Des dull tings make a de men melancholic, and den they tinke on de Devil, and de treason, and do any ting dat is no good, but begar des french fiddles do fiddle all this tings out of deir head, vid such a jerk, as ma foy make a dem so fantastical, and make a dem as good subject, as any is in de France begar.  Luc. 
I must wait upon my Mother.  Simp. 
She will be here immediately.—  Exit Lucy. 
She is not right yet.  Gal. 
Here be one of my colliers, monsieur Simpleton, say you no dat de french fiddle make a de brave government in de varle?  Simp. 
I say any thing becomes a Gentleman.  Gal. 
Observe you dat? he have been but two are mont and he say any thing, dat is very brave? he have de grand understanding in de foot; tell a me, ven you hear a de little fiddle, vat is your tinke? is your head no free from de treason, and plot of de rebel, as your leg? begar you no stand upon de ground for Joy of de coranto, de Cerebran, de marquess, de Montague, ha!  Enter Lady Beaufield and Lucy. Sir Wil. 
My Lady.  Gal. 
Me be your humble servant Madam, and stay one two tre hour.  Beau. 
I am now ready for you monsieur, come Lucy the practice of the last he taught us.  Lady and Lucy dance, monsieur singing, and correcting them in tune. Enter Servant. Ser. 
The Gentleman you expect Sir William is come.  Sir Wil. 
Madam prepare yourself for mirth, 'twill be a sight beyond the pageants.  Beau. 
we'll not be seen at first, Lucy withdraw.— Exit Lady and Lucy.  Flourish.— Enter Manly (habited) Man. 
What means this flourish? have you a play in hand?  Sir Wil. 
To bid your excellence welcome to this lodging.  
Fore Jove he looks prodigiously, vouchsafe  
Us th' honour of your hand.  Man. 
Ha!  Enter Lady and Lucy. Gal. 
Vat Antic be dis?  Simp. 
One of the supporters of the brewer's Arms.  Beau. 
Ha, ha, ha, does he take upon him to be a Prince too, and will he speak?  Sir Wil. 
These Ladies have ambition to kiss your hand, and have a great desire to know, how fares the camp at Tilbury, and please your Excellency.  Beau. 
'Tis one of Arthur's Knights of the round Table.  Sir Wil. 
With his circular sippets; would you think that a pigmy poisoned should swell thus?  Man. 
I am betrayed, there's no retreat with honour, I must be confident.  Sir Wil. 
Laugh and Jeer him handsomely.  Simp. 
Oh that the Major, and the Minor had been here now, they would tease him i'faith, monsieur, ask that Maypole and he can dance.  Gal. 
Plait il monsieur? a la Galliard, de Goran, la Princess, le Buckingham, heigh!  Man. 
Put up your rosin, and your catsguts presently and be gone, or I shall find a grave for you in the pocket of my sleeve, and this shall be your winding sheet.  Gal. 
Me no play dat lesson, pocket de sleeve, dat is no tune de France, pocket, le grand pock:— (Manly offers to strike him )pardonne moy monsieur: me put up my fiddle and be gone, adieu Madam, Serviteur gentilhomes; pocket de sleeve? Exit.  Man. 
But I must not seem angry, Lady, my business is to you.  Beau. 
Business to me?  Man. 
I am bold to present a suit to you, I confess it was not made by a French Tailor, I can make a leg and kiss my hand too after the fashion of my clothes, this served in those honest days, when Knights were Gentlemen, and proper men took the walls of dwarfs; here's a belly piece, that looks like armour, with what comeliness may a man unbutton his doublet, when he seems to take the wall to make urine? your sleeve so near your nose, with a handkerchief, which I take out thus with a grace, after Emunction, I put up again, with the corianders hanging out, Geometrical breeches in several slises, in which a man is not ashamed of his thighs, nor hides his bow legs, which at the bottom surrounded with points make him look like a rough-footed Pigeon, these things were worn when men of honour flourished, that tamed the wealth of Spain, set up the States, helped the French King, and brought Rebellion to reason Gentlemen.  Simp. 
So they do now.  Man. 
Peace pepper corn; and all this at less charge than a mask comes to now, with the rare and new invention of hobby-horses; which of our two habits (be you Lady, but the indifferent Judge, and squint not,) is the more grave and manly, his lean upper chin, or this goodly promontory? my Trunks with a round walk paved with gold and silver, or your trousers, cut close to your dock, and drawn on with a screw? in which if you venture but half a crown, looks like a poultice, or a swelling in the groin; your habit is fantastical as the time, you squirt into your doublet, which you wear so careless as you had not buttoned it since you came from a bawdy house, where men of this garb, coming from the stews, march with that gravity as they came from a conventicle, so soberly they would carry it.  Sir Wil. 
I see whoring was equal in all times, only the carrying of it.  Man. 
Why that's all?  Sir Wil. 
But surely I do wonder, how my Grandfather could kiss my Grandmother, or embrace in that strange apparel.  Man. 
They made a shift Knight, or else your wise worship had not been here; but that I want so much beard, I could show how your Grandfather stroked his three or four handful of hair, to the terror no doubt of the standers by, and could stab I warrant you, with his two handed beard then, as well as you with your dagger beard now. It was never a good time since these clothes went out of fashion; oh, those honourable days and persons!  Sir Wil. 
Is't possible?  Beau. 
As how?  Sir Wil. 
I pray enlarge yourself.  Man. 
To have seen but a St. George's feast then.  Sir Wil. 
Why, what difference sir?  Man. 
When they were installed, to see the twenty mile to Windsor strewed with blue-coats, feathers and cognisances, as they do country towns with boughs, and flowers for princes' Entries, and not to go privately in a coach, with a page and a barber to cut off charges.  Simp. 
How do you like this Gentleman, Is't not a pretty humour?  Man. 
Then you should have the best knight of the Country, with the ragged staff on their sleeves.  

The Bear, the Boar, and Talbot with his tuskish white,  
Oh so sore that he would bite,  
The Talbot with his Tuskish white  
Soudledum Soudledum;  
The Talbot with his Tuskish white Soudledum, bell.  
The Talbott with his Tuskish white  
Oh so sore that he would bite  
Orebecke soudledum, sing orum bell.   
Every Knight had his hundreds, and these would take up all the Taverns in the Town, be drunk to the honour of their Lords, and rather than not pay their reckoning, pawn their chains, though they pawned something for them the night before, and such merry catches then, as  Sings. 

The Hart loves the high wood,  
The Hare loves the hill,  
The Knight loved his bright sword,  
And the Lady loved her will.   Beau. 
So the Ladies do still.  Man. 
It may be so, but for your Knights bright Sword 'tis at pawn, or at home in his Armoury; then we had, God bless the Duke of Norfolk, there was a jest, and another Song.  

The great Choe bent,  
The little Choe bent,  
Sir Piercy leigh under the line;  
God bless the good Earl of Shrewsbury  
For he's a good friend of mine.   Sir Will. 
He's very confident.  Beau. 
Alas, he is compelled to't.  Simp. 
How do you like this Mrs Lucy, is he not a pretty ill-favoured Gentleman in this habit?  Lucy. 
He sings rarely.  Sir Will. 
No question he can dance too, in that disguise he looks like famous Cardell the dancing. Master in Queen Elizabeth's time, I have seen his Picture.  Man. 
And he with your worship's favour, was held a wise man, and for his gravity he might have been Treasurer, he went with that settled and solid Pian-piano.  Sir Wil. 
And when he danced a measure, you should have had him with his Rapier, short Cloak, his black Cap, and his white Feather, his single and double, both backward and forward, with that excellency—  Man. 
And now he must be in Cuerpo, or like a fellow on the ropes, or a Tumbler when he shoots his body through a hoop; there was music then, and a Heaven and Earth, beyond your braules, or your Montague, with a la, la, la, like a Bachanalian dancing the Spanish morris, with knackers at his fingers.  Sir Wil. 
It must needs be a rare sight.  Man. 
He played to himself on a grave Lute, or a modest Cittern, with a politic quill, far beyond your Geofrey fiddle, or your French kit, that looks like a broken faggot stick, at the biggest, and sounds as if it had got the French disease, when it snivels out a Coranto, or so hoarse with a cold, as if some great base Fiddle had silenced it.  Sir Wil. 
What misery is it, the Monsieur is gone now? here had been a French Duel.  Man. 
But had you seen my Lord Lofty dance the Galliard, with such capers, such half capers, such turns o'th' toe, and above ground, you would have sworn 'em sound for nine Generations, and for Lavaltoes, La, la, la, &c. and then the Lady.  Beau. 
How did he use her?  Man. 
With wonderful skill, he put his right arm about her, and took her lest hand in his, and then he did so touse her with his right thigh and leg, and list her up so high, and so fast, and so round—  Sir Wil. 
As what I pray, be courteous.  Man. 
Marry as soon as he had ended his dance she would lie down as dead as a swinged chicken, with the head under the wing, so dizzy was she, and so out of breath; and all these wonders were extant Knight when this old Cap was new.  Sir Wil. 
Is not this very fine sport Madam?  Beau. 
Sir, you're welcome; pray excuse me, if being prepared for some folly, your garb and person seemed at first ridiculous; you have changed my opinion, and there wants but such a noble leader to reduce, and make this habit fashionable; it shows a proper man, and if I were worthy to advise, or could lay an obligation upon you, I should take it for an honour if you would often visit me in these ornaments, I like 'em infinitely, and the Wearer shall be ever welcome; please you we'll walk and talk a turn in the Gallery.  Man. 
You too much grace me Madam.  (Ex. Lady, and Manly. Sir Wil. 
How's this?  
I have wound myself into a pretty business,  
She neglects me.  Simp. 
In my judgement 'tis an indifferent pretty fellow, but that his clothes are out of fashion.  Lu. 
They are most becoming; I do not like your new fantastical shapes, that transform a man from his masculine aspect; you appear to me like a jackanapes; there's a waste, and a Long lane cut close to your haunches. Exit.  Simp. 
Hum! she takes after the old one, I will try and shift myself, if the mother be taken with the habit in Qu. Elizabeth's days, why may not the daughter affect that in K. James', and so the humour run in a blood? I am resolved; she loves singing too, I am furnish 'with Ballads, o'my conscience this will do't; I'll fit her with a fashion, and about it presently. Exit.  Enter Beaufield, and Manly. Sir Will. 
They are here again, and laugh at me: How familiar the Turtles are?  Man. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Bea. 
we'll taste some air i'th' garden, ha, ha, ha.  (Ex. Lady, Manly. Sir Wil. 
So, so, if I did love this widow for herself, what a case were I in? but I must not sit down thus, and something must be thought on for my honour. Exeunt.   

Act. IV. Scene I.  Enter Mistress Voluble, and Nice, (having a Jewel.) Vol. 
SO, so, thou dost carry it excellently, it spreads like a Proclamation, what a rich widow lies at my house, her wealth, and wit, must be exercised.  Ni. 
She must not appear to be herself yet but in private, and the Chiause her Son has bestowed this Jewel upon me for expedition, for he dares not yet acknowledge her; she wonders at herself now she is painted, & swears in her conscience she looks by her glass like one of four and twenty, and simpers, and licks her leathern lips as she had eaten Marmalade.  Vol. 
Sir William has heard of her, and (upon some affront, as I conjecture received from my Lady) has writ to me, and articled already to dispose her affections, I expect him every minute.  Ni. 
He will discover us.  Vol. 
He shall never see thee act her part.  Ni. 
Do you think he can affect her?  Vol. 
courtier's do not marry into the City for love, and this farmer's wife has wealth enough to Enter Simpleton, and James, (with his clothes. )buy a Ladyship; here's the gull, away and be diligent. Exit Nice.  Ja. 
They'll fit you as well as myself for whom they were made in the Country.  Vol. 
How now sir, preparing for a race?  Simp. 
Is nobody else with you? Do not inquire what stratagem is in hand, there be more ways to catch a Mistress's heart; how does my mother?  Vol. 
She is pretty apt for one of her years: I can tell you news, there is a Knight about her already.  Simp. 
She shall have him.  Vol. 
Not with your favour if a greater person Interpose, I have so much care of her honour, now she is my charge.  Enter Nice. Ni. 
Mistress Voluble, here's a Footman, laced all over, inquires for you, he serves a French Lord, he says he must needs speak with you, he has a letter. Exit.  Vol. 
What if this Lord come hither for the same purpose?  Simp. 
'tis too much happiness; I'll not be seen thus, nor let my Mother appear in her roughcast, use the Footman kindly, if his message concern us, away— Exit Vol.  
And will this Fashion become me, dost think? I prithee tell me some old stories in tother reign, thou canst talk and make me ready too.  Ja. 
Ah sir, I knew a time, when two and twenty years was but a merry Christmas, nothing but Ambassadors, Masques, Plays, Entertainments, Hawking, Hunting, Winter and Summer, Newmarket and Roiston mourn now, ha! had you seen the Court foxed upon Goury's night, and the Gunpowder treason began then; oh we had rare sport, and then everybody was knighted, they hardly lest a Gentleman in those days; and afterward they got a trick of making Lords.  Simp. 
For what?  Ja. 
I know not that, but they hardly left a Knight, man, woman, and child were made right honourable.  Simp. 
Right honourable, right worshipful, and well beloved, I have heard that in the Country.  Ja. 
But the fashion of well-beloved is left off, for we do not now love one another.  Simp. 
But had you no misfortunes?  Ja. 
Faith Sir, a rainy day was the worst, and that had but made the ground more soluble the next day for hunting.  Simp. 
No complaints James?  Ja. 
Oh yes sir! I heard a Gentleman complain mightily that he had lost the highest flying tassel gentle, that ever was seen, another that he had pricked his grey Nag, that was an excellent buckhunter; a third, that he had fretished his best hound, Beauty, and that Lilly was killed at a Bay a stag-hunting, it had almost cost the Gentleman his life.  Simp. 
And what else James?  Ja. 
By my troth sir, a Gentleman waiter, that shall be nameless, removing a pasty of Venison, spilt it all, on a new satin doublet, and spoiled it utterly, there was such laughing, but his Master being gracious gave him a suit for his doublet, I think it was a Knight; but the Knight market is risen now.  Simp. 
I and the Lord Market too, James.  Ja. 
And please your worship, they say, the Herald would not make a Gentleman now, under ten pound.  Simp. 
Oh yes, they'll take reason to my knowledge, and give the prettiest fantastical arms, I have all the colours of the Rainbow in my new coat, every fool may be a Gentleman of three generations now.  Ja. 
I can derive myself knave three descents under your ancestors.  Simp. 
Then thy children may write themselves knaves of blood, take that upon my Heraldry; but had not you brave songs then James?  Ja. 
In those days was the quintessence of ballads, you went to school with 'em, I remember and learned no other books, I shall never forget the Lord of Lorne's son in Scotland and the false steward, to the tune of green sleeves, those were the days indeed, oh there was then such a company for dancing singing and fooling, I do not mean the wits, for fooling is another thing clear from it; It does so bravely in company, when there is a great many that care not for wit, and pleases better than all the wit in the world; and then there was such brave jests, at the death of a Stag, and Buck; to throw blood up and down, upon folks' faces; the very Footman and Pages understood those Jests then; there was a time; and the Launderers were as well Employed in a progress then as now, and the Surgeons got as much by 'em too; oh, I shall never forget those times.  Simp. 
So, so, how do I look in this transformation? will anybody know me dost think? Mistress Lucy, shall have the first sight of my shape; somebody is gone into the dining room, let us out at the back door James. Exeunt.  (Enter Nice. (dressing the Mother, painted) (at another Door) Mrs. Voluble. Vol. 
'Tis well done Nice to be careful about your Mistress.  Ni. 
I am giving her some instructions about dressing, and was saying, she must not go above once to court in black, it would be very scandalous without intermixing colours, in her petticoat, sleeves, and stomacher, and the colours now in fashion are blue, pink, and incarnadine, yellow is much worn too.  Vol. 
But 'tis very material, what lace you will choose, as silver and gold for blue, (That's a court maxim) and plain silver for incarnadine, single or mixed will serve for pink colour.  Moth. 
I shall never remember all this.  Vol. 
It is your Gentlewoman's duty to remember.  Ni. 
Let me alone Madam. When you will keep house, a long handkerchief, or a round one with a coif tied under your chin, and a little hair curled, with a black taffata hood, or white sarsenet.  Vol. 
When you pretend to have a cold, you must show no hair, but wear a forehead cloth, with a pinner over that, these clothes are much worn by old Ladies, with which they bind down a piece of sercloth upon their forehead, to keep wrinkles in obedience. How is her hair?  Ni. 
That little that she has is crazy.  Vol. 
She has enough to curl, and you have the discretion to know what proportion is to be left out, according to the latitude of her face; and to be curled with pins and orrice powder, which will neither hurt nor break it, and then in the Morning to let the comb pass through it once, and open it, between a curl and a freeze, and draw up some of the curls with a bodkin within the other hair.  Moth. 
My hair will never endure all this.  Vol. 
You must endure more, if you mean to be a Lady of fashion, and attractive; where be the pendants?  Ni. 
Must she not wear a Feather?  Vol. 
Not without a diamond bodkin; have you no Jewels?  Moth. 
Yes, In the knot of my handkerchief.  Vol. 
Oh fie, you must buy a Cabinet. What's here? a Toad stone, two Turkeys, six thumbrings, three Aldermen's seals, five Gemmals, and four Deaths-heads; these are Alehouse ornaments— Yet these Diamonds are tolerable, and these Pearls will make a half Chain.  Ni. 
Would she were hanged in the fellow, condition we had the rest.  Vol. 
They must be changed, but Nice may wear these till you get new, they will serve to practice in. (Knock within.  Ni. 
There's a Coach at door.  Vol. 
I'll pawn my ability the French Lord, 'tis about the time I gave directions to his Footman; for his entertainment, you must take upon you the rich widow, and be you careful to observe Mrs Nices Language, garb, and behaviour, to men of his quality; your Rings and Jewels upon her will credit the cause, and person he comes to visit, which is yourself, but under a veil. I'll prepare his Lordship. Exit.  Ni. 
This is all for your instruction; these rings fit me excellent well, and hereafter you may take pride upon you by my example.  Mo. 
I hope I shall learn in time; but I shall be more than a Lady if I marry with a Lord.  Ni. 
Alas, I am but the Lady in the Play.  Mo. 
Now you put me in mind, I have seen pretty harlotry Ladies in a Country Play, so proud, and so knavish, one would have sworn they had been women indeed.  Enter Galliard, and Voluble. Ni. 
he's here, you must be modest, and observe your distance now; Is this the Lord? He looks like an overgrown Monkey.  Mo. 
What pretty foolish things some of these young Lords are?  Vol. 
Your Lordship is bountiful; that is she whom fame hath delivered to you; your honour may advance.  Gal. 
Begar dis rish widow look young as myself.  Vol 
If my eyes be not in a mist this is the French Dancer.  Gal. 
Vat is your name?  Vol. 
He means to catechise her.  Mo. 
I shall be happy if your Lordship please to own me by the title of your servant.  Vol. 
You must learn to compliment thus— 'Tis Galliard sure.  Gal. 
She kiss very vel begar, she have de Alamode touch of de lip ma foy; can you dance Madam?  Vol. 
I am now confirmed.  Mo. 
Will he kiss me too?  Gal. 
Vat is she?  Ni. 
A Gentlewoman that attends me for the present.  Gal. 
Dat is a de reverence for de devil, she look like a de wihch Madam, but me tell you Madam, for me love you very much in the little time, as any man in de varle; me be French Lor, and me have lodging in de autre street, Duke de Memorency my kinsman, and two tre hundred great Lors have lose deir head in France begar for no matre, and me fly to England to save a me neck by me trot.  Ni. 
Were you guilty of any treason?  Gal 
No more begar than your little self.  Ni. 
What is your estate?  Gal. 
Begar very grand estate in Orleans, me have two tre letter from de Cardinal, and he write a me, dat de King send for me to kiss his hand: Now as me vas in de resolution to take a de ship for France, me hear of you Madam in de Strand, and me very glad to marry you before me go presently.  Ni. 
Your Lordship is very brief, but I find not myself inclined to cross the Seas.  Mo. 
The Sea, marry shield, I'll not see the salt water for any Lord in Christendom, ay, I'll rather be no Lady.  Ni. 
Who, how now insolence, how dare you interpose?  Vol. 
Will you be ridiculous, and betray yourself now?  Gal. 
Begar you have de Gipsy complexion, and look like de sign of-de Robin Hood and maid a Marian.  Mo. 
Robin Hood in thy face, does he maid a Marian me?  Ni. 
She is not worth your Lordship's passion, I shall teach you better manners.  Gal. 
Begar you shall have much need of dat.  Ni. 
My Lord, you did ask me if I could dance.  Vol. 
The wench has found him.  Gal. 
Dear is noting in de varle for de Lady, like a de understanding in de foot.  Ni. 
I cannot praise my own ability, but I admire the excellency of other Ladies, and should be fortunate to meet with some Master in the faculty, that would Instruct, and exercise me in private.  Gal. 
Me love you de better for dat, begar nobody exercise you in private but myself, me teach you Alamode de Court dance, hold up your little finger you command a my foot.  Ni. 
Your Lordship is too humble, it is an office would become one that is mercenary; I affect dancing infinitely, oh that we had but some music here; la, la, ra. (She sings, Gal. draws out his Fiddle.  Vol. 
'tis coming out.  Mo. 
What's that a bedstaff?  Vol. 
It is a French pocket-pistol.  Mo. 
Will he shoot it oft here? I could never endure a gun. Exit.  Gal 
Forboon, brave, ah, dat is like a de Princess, Allez.  Ni. 
You shall not be so public in your graces to me; conceal your Fiddle till some private opportunity.  Gal. 
Me understand.  Vol. 
How does your Lordship like her? You have her in an excellent humour.  Gal. 
Kiss a me madam— hah? 'tis heaven? de Poet talk of de Nectar, begar here is it; me never drink de blank or de Claret, so me have but two tre drop divine from your lip— Metresse speak a for me.  Ni. 
The fool is ecstasied; in his worst condition he will serve for a husband; how he dances in a Net?  Vol. 
He has money, and a Trade, he will serve wench.  Gal. 
If me get dis rish widow, me cozen 'em both begar.  Ni. 
Do you think he loves me indeed. Ex. Vol.  Gal. 
You no tinke madam dat me be so hot in love, and do burn, dat my reine a do melt, as me vere in de oven, me need a go into de river presently to cool and vater my heart, vere is de Mistresse de la Maison? Gone? dat is vel, dear is no honour like a dat, as you take a de little air in my Coach.  Ni. 
I have not been abroad today, but I dare trust myself with your Lordship.  Gal. 
Oh Madam, a vostre service, now if me get a de Priest all is perfect.  Enter Sir William, and Voluble. Sir Wil. 
Be all these Trunks hers?  Vol. 
We ha' not stowage enough for half, she is infinitely rich.  Sir Wil. 
Hast thou prepared her?  Vol. 
I find her very apt, 'tis her only ambition to be a Lady, a French Lord has her in chase, but I have delivered your character, and what privilege she may have by charter of her Knight.  Sir Will. 
I long to see her, is she handsome?  Vol. 
What she wants in beauty and breeding, she has in estate Sir.  Sir Wil. 
That, that's enough, I can have beauty in other places, and will exceed what I conditioned for, if I prosper. I will have this Widow in spite.  Vol. 
How Sir William?  Sir Will. 
To spite the Lady Beaufield, and her Magog that affronted me; I would lose no opportunity, a widow must be taken in the pick; say I am come and commend me to the heavens, I'll make all good.  Vol. 
To the heavens? will you die before her?  Sir Will. 
For that we must take our chance; thou shalt be sure of a good lease for thy life, and destiny agree upon us afterward.  Vol. 
Shall I direct you?  Sir Wil. 
Shalt be my evening, and my morning star. Exeunt.  Enter Lucy, and Barbara. Bar. 
You too much afflict yourself Mistress Lucy, 'tis but some humour he put on to try the strength of your affection.  Lu. 
He is lost; not for my sake, but for his own I pity him, and I am confident, if I were so happy to speak with him again, I should prevail to win him to his first and noble temper; my end being so just, I could dispense with modesty to find him out, and perfect the act of charity.  Bar. 
You have employed Formall, from whom you may expect to hear such an account, as may dry up your sorrows.  Enter Beaufield, and Manly. Beau. 
I see Sir you preserve your confidence.  Man. 
I dare be just in your commands, and in a service you but smile upon, despise the censure of the world.  Beau. 
Saw you not the Knight since?  Man. 
The sweet hopes that he swallowed, to prepare me a ridiculous object to you Madam, was gall upon his stomach, when he found you had mercy on my confidence; he dares not converse with so unlicked a bear, as this shape must present Enter Simpleton, and James .his critical eye sight. What's here? one sent to affront me?  Simp. 

When Robin came to Nottingham dery, dery down,  
His dinner all for to dine:  
There met him fifteen jolly Foresters,  
Were drinking Ale, and Wine, hay down.   
Madam your most humble servant; there be other men, and manners, and garbs as fashionable in the eyes of discreet Ladies.  Man. 
Have we got Adam Bell, and Clim o'th' Clough?  Ja. 
We be three, good Mr William of Cloudesly.  Man. 
'Tis so.  Simp. 
And how, and how show matters Mistress Lucy? every man's Cap is not made of the same matter.  Sing. 
Have you felt the wool of Beaver?  Man. 
— Or sheeps down ever?  Sim. 
— Have you smelled of the bud of the Rose?  Man. 
— In his pudding hose.  Sim. 
— Or have tasted the bag of the Bee?  
Oh so fine!  Man. 
— Oh so fond!  Sim. 
— Oh so brave!  Man. 
— Such a knave!  Sim. 
— Such a knave is he.  (Manly offers to draw. Beau. 
Sir, this is most uncivil, and your rashness, beside the forfeit of your own discretion, will lay an imputation to wound my fame; within my presence, and beneath my roof, which should protect all strangers, to affront a Gentleman that visits me—  Man. 
How's this?  Beau. 
Be bold sir, and presume you have my favour, you never appeared handsome till this minute; bear up, your mirth becomes you rarely.  Simp. 
Dost i'faith?  Lu. 
What does my mother mean?  Simp. 
Spit o' thy hand, and clap me o'th' shoulder james, the widow herself is in love with me.  Sings. 

She cast an eye on little Musgrave  
As bright as the summer's sun.   
I may turn o'er the daughter to thee.  Ja. 
I would I had her in an embroidered clout.  Man. 
Sure my Lady is but in jest.  Sings. 

Show me said he whose men ye be  
That hunt so boldly here,  
That without my consent do chase  
And kill my fallow deer.—   Ja. 
His fallow deer?  Simp. Sings 

Ere thus I will out braved be  
One of us two shall die,  
I know thee well an Earl thou art,  
Lord Percy, so am I.   Ja. 
Thou Douglas?  Man. 
This Lady has but fooled me all this while; make much of your new Antic Madam, I can shift into myself again, and if that thing were worth my anger, or my envy, beat him; you have a pretty humour, cherish it, and that William of the Wisp, till I visit you again.— Exit  Beau. 
The Gentleman is jealous.  Simp. 
I protest Madam if it had hot been not your sake, and that it had been pity to have spilled any blood, in your Dining room, I would ha' done something  Ja. 
In his breeches.  Simp. 
But I shall report your nobleness abroad.  Beau. 
Do not play the fool too much, I am out of the humour to laugh at you; he cannot leave me thus.— Exit Beau.  Ja. 
This was no trick to catch the old one.  Lu. 
How came you into this habit Simpleton?  Simp. 
By reading Ovid's Metamorphosis, and to show the variety of my wit.  Luc. 
Let me entreat you hold your feet together,— now you put me mind of a smith's bellows, your body is not all of a piece sure, but several limbs thrust into several pudding bags, you would show terrible to the crows in a wheat field, you are no living creature.  Simp. 
Persuade me to that, am I not sensible?  Luc. 
He that does that cure upon you, will deserve a chronicle; so desiring you would take home your flail there, for here is like to be no thrashing work, I commit you to the barn, where like another Orpheus, you will draw the horse, and sheep, to the melody of your voice, and ravish all the Cows in the Country, to hear you sing Packington's pound.— Exit.  Ja. 
She has made a coxcomb on you.  Lu. 
Hum? I won't out o'the pit for all this, I have another device, and thou shalt assist me, if that fail, I'll die a bachelor, and make thee my heir.  Ja. 
I shall but pray for your death sir.  Simp. 
Back again, back again quoth the Pindar,  
The wrong way have you gone, &c.  Exit Singing. A Table, Stools, Bottles of wine, and Glasses, set out by two Drawers.— then Enter Newman, the two Jeerers, Wenches, Musicians. New. 
So, so, I'll dance no more, a song, let's have a song now.  1 Wen. 
Take heed of the old ballads, eccliped, Like Hermit poor, eyes hide my love, or Danae in the brazen Tower.  2 Wen. 
Or the lamentable complaint of Ariadne, and Theseus, and the more lamentable for being so long.  New. 
Do you hear Madam virtue, Lady modesty cannot you play your part?  1 Je. 
Not upon the violin.  2 Je. 
They are both for the gamba.  New. 
You shall play the part of my Mistress, you must be witty then, and extreme coy and scurvy, in your answers; go behind that hanging, I will suppose it your chamber; now Boy the Song I made to the window, while I mustle myself with the fiddlers, to bid my Mistress good morrow in the street, observe the conjuration.  

Song.  

I conjure thee, I conjure thee, by thy skin that is so fair,  
Thy dainty curled hair,  
And thy favour and thy grace,  
With the patches on thy face,  
And thy hand that doth invite  
The cold, dullest appetite,  
— Appear appear,   

Upon these terms I do invite thee,  
And if thou com'st I will delight thee.   

If not so, I do not care,  
Though thy breasts be ne'er so bare,  
Roses rich, with shoe that's white,  
Or thy Venus best delight,  
If not touch thy softer skin  
What care I for thee a pin,  
Appear appear.   

For to hear, and not to see  
Is a dull flat history,  
And to see and not to touch  
If you think the last too much,  
Know all woman's but one joy  
If we men not them enjoy,  
Appear appear.    New. 
She's not awake, play a rattling tune that may startle her; where's this whore? ha!—  1 Jer. 
She's gone.  2 Jer. 
Vanished? so he might have sung away his lungs.  New. 
It may be, she is retired, for you know what Lady; come let us drink.  2 Wench. 
Was your Muse at all this expense to the fiddles? do you write to no other company sir?  New. 
Till they have my liveries; I'll maintain 'em in songs, wind up your voice again.  

Song.  

Thine eyes to me like suns appear  
Or brighter stars their light;  
Which makes it summer all the year,  
Or else a day of night:  
But truly I do think they are  
But eyes, and neither sun nor star.   

Thy brow is as the milky way,  
Whereon the gods might trace:  
Thy lips Ambrosia I dare say  
Or Nectar of thy face:  
But to speak truly I do vow  
They are but women's lips and brow.   

Thy check it is a mingled bath  
Of Lillies and of Roses;  
But here there's no man power hath  
To gather love's fresh posies:  
Believe it here the flowers that bud  
Are but a woman's flesh and blood.   

Thy nose a promontory fair,  
Thy neck a neck of land;  
At nature's gifts that are so rare  
All men amazed do stand:  
But to the clearer judgement those  
Are but a woman's neck and nose.   

For four lines in passion I can die  
As is the lover's guise,  
And dabble too in Poetry  
Whilst love possessed, then wise  
As greatest Statesmen, or as those  
That know love best, yet live in Prose.    1 Jeer. 
The pure spirit of Sack in't.  2 Jeer. 
The wit's elixir.  New. 
No jeering Gentlemen, I shall grow loud and break the peace.  2 Wen. 
These Gentlemen are for nothing but song and drink, I see no market all this while; I'll get me hence too; if please you, I'll see if I can find out my sister. Ex. 2 Jeer.  New. 
There's but one stool in the counting house, and Lady you shall stay till she return; Gentlemen there's no life in you; I cannot do this roaring and whoring handsomely; little thinks Lucy what Comrades I have got.  2 Wen. 
I have a precious confidence in you Gentlemen, to trust my single modesty amongst so many.  New. 
What would you give to be ravished now? thou hast an excellent complexion for't.  2 Wen. 
Ravished? preserve the Gentleman's dear wits Sack I beseech thee.  1 Jeer. 
You would not lose by it if he ravish you.  New. 
another Song, and direct your voice to this Lady.  

Song.  

I'd have her merry, laugh, and smiles  
And then look grave and sad:  
In every humour but a while,  
Make love as 'tis, that's made   

I'd have your dress of sever all shapes,  
Like Proteus carved, not he,  
In humour a she coy Jackanapes  
Then a grave Monkey be.   

Discourse of all that comes to sense,  
But speak none, yet still speak,  
No matter here is no offence,  
But to speak matter weak.   

With thy soft voice sing me asleep,  
Then startle me awake,  
With love's notes-passion make me weep,  
Then merry for thy sake.    Enter Jeere Minor (the Song ended.) Jeer. Mi. 
A discovery?  New. 
What new-found Land?  Jeer. Mi. 
The Pigeon that left us hath been in another room with Mr Formal my Lady Beaufield's Gentleman Usher, there he sits like the picture of a Harry Sovereign in a chair, while she is picking on's pocket.  New. 
Fetch him, and his Fairy hither, but for his mrs.'s sake usher him with loud music. Ex. Jeer.  
we'll have some sport. (Flourish.  Enter the two Jeerers, and formal. New. 
Where's the wench?  2 Jeer. 
The wench has made an escape, she had a glimpse before and suspected me, but here's the wicked Elder.  New. 
What says my wise Lucullus?  For. 
Sir, my business was to you, though I met a Remora that is already sunk, I was sent by a Gentlewoman, but nobody must know it.  New. 
We hear no business till he have wound up a bottle, and then he shall have audience.  1 Jeer. 
That's but your fee for entrance, your garnish only; come sir there's no remedy.  For. 
I hope you will conceal it Gentlemen.  (They circle him, and sing. 

Song.  

Why then let us drink,  
Away scurvy think,  
And do't till we wink;  
Which is just to be  
So drunk not to see.   

First Maudlin to weep,  
Then after to sleep;  
Why they let us drink,  
And do't till we wink,  
Away scurvy 'think.    For. 
what will become of me? would you and I Lady were in a back room.  New. 
So now speak my Lord Ambassador, I know your sovereign Lady greets us well.  For. 
Alas sir, my Lady does not know of my coming; I would speak with you from one that shall be nameless, who thinks you are a debauched Gentleman, under the Rose, and desires to talk with you when you are sober: I would be loath to disgrace you before this good company, neither was I willing to tell her what I heard about your drinking and whoring.  New. 
To the point.  1 Jeer. 
ay, ay, to the point.  For. 
The principal matter then, and indeed my whole employment at this time to you is—  New 
What in the name of circumspection?  For. 
You shall excuse me sir, silence is a virtue; but if you knew who sent me—  Wen. 
He would make a costive Statesman.  For. 
It is sufficient one desires to speak with you, I name no time, nor person, I know my office; Mistress Lucy is not to be named at all times.  New. 
Mistress lucy, I am her servant; come drink this narrow sea to her health, you must be drunk infallibly, I'll give a reason; I swear by Muscadel That I do love her well; come ye Mermaids—  For. 
I'll do you reason then; but is this Muscadel? Mr Newman has sworn; for my own part, Gentlemen, I desire it should go no further.  

Song.  

I swear by Muscadel  
That I do love thee well,  
And more than I can tell.  
By the White, Claret, and Sack  
I do love thy Black, black, black,  
I do love thy black, black, black.   

No Goddess 'mongst them all  
So slender, and so tall,  
And grateful too with all,  
Which makes my sinews to crack  
For thy black, black, black,  
For thy dainty black, black.   

So lovely, and so fair,  
Though shadowed with thy hair,  
So nimble, just like air;  
All these set me on love's wrack  
For thy black, black, black,  
For thy dainty black, black.   

Thy kind and cunning eye,  
When first it did espy,  
Our love it did descry,  
Dumbe speaking, what d'you lack?  
Mine answered, thy black, black,  
Thy dainty black, black, black.    1 Jeer. 
Excellent!  New. 
Now give Mr Formal his cup.  For. 
I have had the narrow sea, I cannot drink an Ocean.  New. 
His tother cup; you had my wench as I remember, and I'll prescribe you a penance; there's another whore for you, drink to her and she shall pledge.  For. 
Give me thy hand, and set thy foot to mine.  1 Jeer. 
You may trust your single modesty with him.  For. 
For my own part, I had rather do things privately; come kiss me first— here's to thee, my flesh tingles—  New. 
A word with you two Squires.  Wen. 
Any thing for a shelter, I foresee a storm; and what is one Cat among so many Mastiffs?  (She creeps under the Table. 1 Jeer. 
You are melancholy.  New. 
You lie, you that say nothing lie, if you be of his opinion.  2 Jeer. 
methinks we are very merry.  1 Jeer. 
We are exceeding merry.  New. 
Have you discharged your culverin? where's the paraquito?  For. 
I drunk it off.  1 Jeer. 
She is vanished too.  New. 
Then we are ourselves, and make me your example; you know your Province Sirrah, make ready for an Angel, sing the design of honour, and of fancy. Ex. boy.  

Song.  
But first in Fancy we will fool,  
Pull off our Doublets, drink more cool,  
Our hats upon our heads not stay,  
For each health we'll throw them away  
So Periwig, or Fringe, or Border,  
The naked truth we'll drink in order.  
And to the Music as they play  
A Fancy Piece we'll throw away,  
until we are drained, can draw no more,  
And the next day all cry therefore.   New. 
Off With Formall's Doublet, off with his Doublet, throw't into the fire, that's a good fancy; now he is Formal right.  For. 
I did not drink hard, for I am cold, the wench would keep me warm, she's a notable fire-drake; will it please you sir to go to the party?  New. 
Now does he betray what a Bawd he would be.  For. 
Does nobody know where to get a Serpent with two legs that hath never a sting?  New. 
I have a great mind to drink a health in one of my boots.  For. 
I drink no beer glasses, if a shoe will serve turn—  New. 
His shoe, my scabbard, a match.  1 Jeer. 
My glove.  2 Ieer. 
His cap.  New. 
Fill brimmers, every man to his Mistress; now do not I like this fancy.  Omnes. 
We ha' done't.  New. 
There's wool in my scabbard, which is a spongious matter, and when I ha' done (Music Throne descends I may leave my drink behind me, and that's a hanging matter, which I am principally to avoid— Do you hear the Music of the Spheres Gentlemen?  For. 
What's that?  1 Ieer. 
From the roof a Throne?  New. 
This room is mine, and called the field of Tempe; Because I won't stay while (The Wench peeps from under the Table .the Plays are done when I have a humour to be merry, and drink healths in the clouds, I built this Elysium; and when bright Sack hath crowned my brow, how soon I am made immortal, you may guess.  

A Song in the Throne.  
As I singing now came down,  
I do bring you Bacchus Crown:  
From the plump Lord of the vine  
clustered grapes to make you wine,  
Your swelled Temples circling in,  
Crowned with this, and bathed within;  
Therefore your best wishes bring,  
Place this Garland on your King.   New. 
Is not Bacchus the best good fellow God on 'em all? Let me see, Formal shall be King, and he sent to heaven presently.  For. 
Send me to heaven? why should I be sent thither before another man?  2 Ieer. 
Ret, Ret, verily Ret, here's the Partridge under the Table.  New. 
They'll be good company, they shall both be immortal together, help Gentlemen. Boy you must be deposed.  Wench. 
Alas what shall I do?  New. 
You shall to heaven Lady?  Wench. 
What before my time? and whether I will or no?  New. 
It shall be with as much ease, as if it were in a Featherbed.  For. 
Let us sleep together.  Wench. 
Ah pity a poor Gentlewoman, if you have hearts of flesh, do not use me worse than heathen Prentices.  New. 
So crown 'em, and give to each a glass of wine, for a sceptre.  For. 
Gentlewoman, if we must mount, 'tis none of our seeking, we are but Angels in our own defence, for my own part, I desire to go thither in no better company.  New. 
Up with 'em, and preserve your sceptre glasses, do not spill your blood royal.  Wench. 
Alas, hold there for heaven's sake, I must meet three Inns of court Gentlemen at the Stillyard tonight, it may be out of my way 20. pound, consider your own cases.  For. 
Peace gentle Queen of grapes.  Wench. 
Thou art a traitor too, oh!  For. 
Do not jog the chariot, let us take our preferment patiently, and drink a health to the humble mortals, that turn up their whites to us, this is pretty high drinking.  Wench. 
Drunkards, devils? oh that I were upon earth again.—  She throws down the wine. 1 Jeer. 
Is this the Gentlewoman's wine, or water?  Enter Drawer. 2 Jeer. 
He mounts insensibly.  New. 
They have a heavenly time on't; you know me sirrah.  Draw. 
Noble Mr. Newman.  New. 
There's for your attendance.  Jeer. 
What's to pay?  New. 
They shall pay you the reckoning in the other world, you know the back way thither; come my boys to the departed, having paid all rites  
We now return.  Jeerers. 
Like woeful Adamites.  Exeunt.  

Act. V. Scaena. I.  Enter Simpleton, James, (little Table set out.) Simp. 
I Am resolved, since fair means cannot prevail with Mistress Lucy, to steal her away, this is the key of the back-gate o'th' garden, to the fields, be ready when I give the sign to hurry her into the coach, and when I have her at my countryhouse, I'll take in her maiden town, upon my own composition.  Ja. 
You won't ravish her.  Simp. 
There are twenty ways to deal with a woman, and never ravish her; no, I have played the fool too much.  Ja. 
I am of your opinion.  Simp. 
But she shall find if I get possession.—  Ja. 
The Coachman is a lusty fellow too, and will help to clap her abroad; the curtains being close she cannot be heard, and the horses will run, as the devil were in the poop, for he drives like a Tamberlaine.  Simp. 
Holla ye pampered Jades.  Ja. 
One Traitor more were not amiss for all that.  Simp. 
Thou sayst right, for though she be a little woman, her voice may be too strong for us.  Ja. 
Let us alone, mind your own part.  Simp. 
Be resolute James. — Exit Simp.  Enter Newman. New. 
The course I am in, hath brought some men to the Gallows, and do I take it for prevention?  Ia. 
What desperate fellow's that?  New. 
I am weary of wine and noise, is there no other cure for melancholy? I do not love the cramp in my neck.  Ja. 
He looks like a Gentleman that were in debt; my friend do you come hither to find a tree? thouart a proper fellow, dost want employment, for though your clothes have a good gloss, they look as they were ill lined, they want money.  New. 
I suffer that which made the old woman mend her pace fir.  Ja. 
Do as I'll direct thee.  New. 
Whom do you serve?  Ia. 
I serve myself; my Master is a fool; did you never hear of Simpleton?  New. 
That worshipful puppy?  Ia. 
He knows him. I have seen you before, but 'tis no matter where; I like thy countenance; canst keep counsel? walk o''is hand o'me.  Enter Simpleton and Lucy. Sim. 
Nay a little further Mistress Lucy, it seems Mrs Voluble told him no great good fortune, she saw it in his stars, for you know she wears Astrology at her apron strings; but she told me in private who should be the man, your dear Endymion.  Lucy. 
Who I beseech you?  Simp. 
The object is presented, and 'tis in vain to oppose the Constellations, what must be must be, and there were no more Ladies in the world, I am the man.  Enter Coachman, and another. New. 
To steal her away?  Ja. 
My Master is resolved. They are here; close.  New. 
She is betrayed.—  Simp. 
Now.—  Lu. 
Help; thieves.  Ia. 
Stop her mouth.  New. 
Then every man take his chance.  (He strikes down Simpleton. Lucy runs off.) Sim. 
Murder, murder.  Ja. 
Are you so cunning sir? you shall along with us. (They disarm New.  New. 
Worried by Hedgehogs!  Ja. 
Are you not killed outright sir?  Sim. 
I am not certain, be sure you hold him fast; to the next Justice; I must get a Surgeon. You are my rival, I know you well enough, if I miscarry, it shall cost me a hundred pound, but I'll ha' thee hanged for't. Exeunt.  Enter Justice and Voluble. Just. 
I understand you perfectly Mistress Voluble, and like your proposition; but a word more of the widow that is at your 'house, she is very rich you say?  Vol. 
Not in understanding.  Just. 
'tis the better.  Vol. 
Her's all your worship must promise her, to be knighted, for she hath a great mind to be a Lady.  Just. 
I know where a blank lies dormant for a Baronet, it will carry more noise and authority on the bench too.  Vol. 
You have done me some discourtesy here tofore, in believing the complaints of Intemperate tongues against me, but you see my charity I desire to live in your worship's fair opinion as a neighbour.  Just. 
I will make you amends sweet Mistress Valuable, you're a virtuous Gentlewoman on my conscience: but how shall this widow be wrought?  Vol. 
That's done already. The truth is she enquired of me, (for we women use to open our secrets one to another) for some staid Gentleman that was a Lawyer, (because she has so great an estate, and many suits to follow) on whom she might bestow herself, for the security of her fortune, and I have already prepared her, and such a commendation of your person, and learned gravity, a Justice of Peace and Quorum, out of my private respects to you, without desire or expectation of any bribe or reward.  Just. 
I understand that very well.  Vol. 
I know you do.  Just. 
How much I am bound to your virtue?  Vol. 
The widow has a great mind to see you, but I will contrive it for your honour, she shall come hither, as to her learned Counsel.  Just. 
The invincible wit of a woman! how I honour it.  Vol. 
There can be no loss in't if you get a Chaplain in readiness, widows are taken in the opportunity.  Enter Richard (the clerk.) Rich. 
A Gentleman brought to be examined, that has wounded one Master Simpleton.  Vol. 
Simpleton? that's the widow's son.  Iust. 
Richard, send to the Curate of the Parish, say I would speak with him presently.  Enter Simpleton (wounded.) Vol. 
Alas who hurt you?  Simp. 
My rival Master Newman, Is this the Justice?  Iust. 
A former quarrel; if you die, I have seen enough to make it murder, for your good Mother's sake.  Simp. 
Cannot you make it manslaughter, and let me live? for I desire but his death.  Vol. 
He shall make it what you please. This Gentleman is to be Knighted, and loves your mother above all the world, things meet as close, as if they went to engender.  Simp. 
My Mother is worth six thousand pound, if you will promise to make her a Lady, and do your best to hang the Gentleman, you shall be my Father in Law, when my Landlady says the word.  Vol. 
Sir I'll take my leave.  Iust. 
Sweet Mistress Voluble, leave your friend to me, I understand the matter perfectly, and it shall go hard, but we will have all the Law on our side. Call in the offender; please you sit; Richard be ready with your Ammunition, Pen, Ink and Paper.  Enter Surgeon, Newman, james, Coachman, Constable and officers. Iust. 
What is your name sir?  Surg. 
My name is Seare.  Clar. 
He is the Surgeon sir.  Iust. 
I'll teach you to follow your profession sirrah, I'll make you an example to all Phlebotomers; how often have you been indicted for letting of blood sirrah?  Sur. 
I understand you nor.  Iust. 
But I understand you sirrah; how durst you vi & armis, feloniously assault this noble Gentleman in contempt of piece, and the king's Law, his Crown and dignity? answer me sirrah to that. I'll seize him.  Sur. 
You Worship is mistaken, I never see the Gentleman before, I was sent for—  Ia. 
He is the Surgeon sir, that is come to take measure of my Master's wounds, it was that Gentleman that let him blood.  Iust. 
Why do they not change faces then? away you knave, and look to the Gentleman; you stand idling here to stumble authority with a felonious countenance.  Ia. 
Let us be for sworn both in a tale.  Enter lucy. Luc. 
Sir, you are one that should do Justice; where is my poor friend? be not so much dejected, you did but rescue me sir from dishonour.  New. 
I was in a melancholy humour; 'tis come about as the wise woman concluded.  Luc. 
where's Simpleton? I may accuse him for a Rape.  Iust. 
Take heed what you say.  Luc. 
Or some such black intent; this Gentleman but interposed to save me from their fury, and with his sword punished a bold offender by letting out some blood that was corrupted.  Iust. 
That's not material; will you confess you wounded Master Simpleton? come to the matter.  New. 
I confess it sir, but hear the reason.  Iust. 
I will hear no reason, that were simple justice; take him aside, and you may follow your business. Stay young Gentlewoman, I must examine you.  Clar. 
Shall I withdraw, and shut the door?  Exeunt all but justice and lucy. Luc. 
What Justice sir, or Law is this?  Iust. 
It is not Polton, Crompton, nor Fitzerhert, A Justice ought to have some discretion without book, especially in these cases. I grant you are the root and cause of this misfortune.  Luc. 
I sir?  Iust. 
Be wise, and understand me; and being endued with such gifts of nature, native beauty and favour, (come a little nearer) and you to abuse yourself—  Luc. 
How sir?  Iust. 
Or suffer yourself to be abused (come a little nearer) is not to be thankful for those excellent benefits.  Luc. 
will you translate an Insolence in others upon my guilt?  Iust. 
You accuse an honest Gentleman for an intent of rape; alas poor soul, it was pure affection in him, he would have ravished you no doubt, with your own consent, the fault was your Ingratitude, (a little nearer) Seneca doth write much of Ingratitude, that I may come (a little nearer) or else Nero had not let him blood, (yet nearer) this Nero was a most wicked Tyrant, for all he could play upon a fiddle, make ballads, and sing them himself, and therefore take heed of cruelty, and be gentle, he kisseth her .for, sweetheart Nero died a violent death.  Enter Beaufield. Lu. 
My Mother.  Beau. 
Lucy you made haste.  Lu. 
Your pardon Madam.  Iust. 
I understand she is a Lady.  Lu. 
In the defence of my own virtue, and the noble Gentleman that suffers for his charity to me—  Beauf. 
I came to assist you. It were an injury to doubt your justice. My name is Beaufield. If my credit may be interposed security for Newman my daughter's knowledge in the cause will Enter clerk .give a most clear satisfaction.  Iust. 
Richard, call in the delinquent, this Lady has spoken very much to the matter, as I understand it. Has the Surgeon done yet?  Clar. 
They are coming down.  Enter Surgeon, Newman, Simpleton, james, Constable, Officers. Iust. 
Now sir, how many of his wounds are mortal?  Sur. 
There is not one considerable, the Gentleman is in no danger.  Simp. 
But have not you authority to hang him? I'll take my oath, he had an intent to kill me. My Lady and Mistress lucy? james, I'll stay no longer, since I am not mortally wounded, sneak after me.  Exeunt Simpleton and james. New. 
My hanging fit is over, and the witchcraft, I am now myself again, if you can pardon Enter Manley .me Madam this too great an honour to your worthless servant.  Iust. 
How now? what saucy fellow's this?  Man. 
she's here too. I am bold cousin to visit you, they say, there's a Gentleman brought before you, for breach o'th' peace, I come to bail him.  Iust. 
We take no foreigners; what outlandish thing are you, pray?  Man. 
You know me sir, my name is Manley, you called me cozen yesterday.  Lust. 
I never saw you before. I know that name, and a Gentleman that owns it, a kinsman of mine too, but he is no such Brandemart. Richard, do you know this Mahound? he calls himself my cousin Manly.  New. 
Why in this habit?  Justice 
Transmigration?  Beau. 
Is it not some spy sir?  Justice 
Constable take him to your charge. I'll teach you sirrah, to usurp a Gentleman's name; 'tis felony ipso facto, write his mittimus.  Man. 
By what statute? Trigesimo Secundo of King Philip? I do not Madam desire your certificate.  Beau. 
You're a stranger sir to me, yet I dare be engaged for his forth coming, he has an honest face.  Man 
Come hither Richard, there's half a piece, rub thy eyes wilt, are they open yet?  Clar. 
I see you plainly now sir, you're my Masters cozen, 'tis Master Manley.  Man. 
'Tis your best course to own me too; is it so long since you took bribes, since you divided and manumised a crooked chambermaid that robbed her Mistress of old Gold? there was a Lancepresado stripped a hedge, when you were out of Linen; pewter has been left at the backdoor, when you did study Alchemy; I leave the trick you showed the sailor's wife in your Closet, when you promised a reprieve to her goodman from Wapping; I know not that you have run your withered motley face into a praemunire; do not know me, why d''ee not charge the constable?  Just. 
What is a Justice without eyes, I mean spectacles? 'tis he indeed, I understand, and see him perfectly; welcome, a Chair for my x?  Man. 
So then. Madam a word with you, I'll make you know me too, ere I ha' done.  Enter Galliard, and Nice. Just. 
There is a matted Chamber & a Couch— More business?  Gal. 
Vere is de matre Justice? begar day have put de shear upon me, me expect de rish vidow, and have marry the chambermaid, she confess dat, Maitre Justice, pray take her to yourself, me desire your warrant, for Metresse Voluble, dat she bring the vidow Simpleton to marry me sans ceremony, dat is your commission, or begar me complain of you to de King.  Just. 
Did you expect the rich widow Simpleton? ha, ha! I know this trifle, my clerk knows her better  Gal. 
Bergar Matre Justice, and Matre clerk make your division, dat is all you see.  Nice. 
Sir I have only cause to complain, he told me he was a French Lord, Mistress Voluble shall make affidavit, and courted me to be his Lady, and now we are married, he proves but a cinquepace. I looked for thousands per annum, and he is but one, two, three, four, and five.  Iust. 
How, did he pretend himself to be a Lord? 'tis Scandalum Magnatum in the highest degree: and by a statute quinquagesimo of the Queen, if she prosecute, he is to be whipped, and lose his ears three several market days.  Ni. 
How will you divide his Ears into three equal portions?  Gal. 
Me give a de whip, and me lose a mine 'ears!  Ni. 
You hear the law, if I complain.  Enter jeers Minor. I. Ieer. 
Sir— Mistress Voluble—  Iu. 
Is the widow come?  I Ieer. 
The Gentlewoman is come, and desires to speak with your worship in private.  Enter clerk. Cla. 
The curate's in the Hall sir.  Iu. 
So, so, I must entreat your patience for a few minutes; how I am blessed! Exit.  Gal. 
Tell a me de trot, have you no Argent, no portion?  Ni. 
But I have a trade.  New. 
I dare be sworn thou hast.  Gal. 
Awe dat is something, here is my hand, you no tell a de tale, a me, and me keep your Enter Sir William, and Mother. secret by my trot.  Sir Wil. 
I took boldness Madam upon sight of your ladyship's new Coach at the door, to intrude and present a poor forsaken servant; give you joy of your old fashioned young Gentleman.  Man. 
Your companion wants no antiquity, if she have no Wizard on.  Beau. 
I hope you are not married Sir?  Sir Wil. 
The matters done, and 'tis more honourable to make a Lady than to marry one. Does anybody know this Gentlewoman, she was a widow till this morning, and a rich one I thank my stairs, and wants the subtle art, some Ladies have to make themselves ridiculous, by doting upon antics.  Beau. 
What name has your most reverend Lady?  Sir Wil. 
She was called the wealthy widow of old Simpleton, before I married her.  Gal. 
Ha, ha, ha!  Sir Wil. 
What Is't makes you so merry monsieur?  Gal. 
Begar somebody make arrant ass of de Knight, hold a me, or me shall crack a my rib wi'the laugh, dat is no simpleton, but an autre Chambermaid, de servant to my vife, begar he be sheated too.  Ni. 
I must confess she waited upon me.  Sir Wil. 
How?  Omnes. 
Ha, ha, ha!  Gal. 
Ma foy dat is certain, ha, ha, ha!  Moth. 
I defy her, that was but a plot.  Gal. 
Begar it was very fine a plot, me have patience, dat dear be more fool in de comedy.  Moth. 
Mistress Voluble can justify what I am, that I am, or would I might ne'er be, a Lady, and I be'nt, that I be'nt.  Enter justice, and Richard. Sir Wil. 
I will have Justice.  New. 
You may have him sir.  Justice 
The reason of this noise my right worshipful?  Sir Wil. 
Give me a warrant presently.  Iu. 
Against whom?  Sir Wil. 
Voluble, I'll have her whipped.  Iu. 
Wrong not the virtuous Gentlewoman.  Sir Wil. 
Virtuous? vexation.  Man. 
Why do you take on so, o' my conscience she is honest enough; does this woman look like a whore?  Moth. 
I thank you Gentleman.  Man. 
She has gravity enough to be a bawd, and then the worst is past.  Iust. 
Is not the widow weight, not perfect sterling?  Sir Wil. 
This is not the widow.  Iust. 
What widow?  Sir Wil. 
The rich widow Simpleton.  Iust. 
I do believe it, did she promise you marriage?  Sir Wil. 
The devil's proctor Mistress Voluble made me believe so.  Iust. 
Do not wrong I say again that virtuous Gentlewoman Mistress Voluble, I know her, and know her virtuous, but the rich widow Simpleton, you talk of (thanks be to providence) is newly married, the Priest hath scarce wiped his oraculous lips, since they pronounced us, Man Enter Voluble, and two jeerers (at one door) Simpleton, at the other. )and Wife, in my stone Parlour, in good faith la, she's here, her own tongue will confirm it Gentlemen.  New. 
Why does she veil her face.  Iust. 
It is her modesty, to hide her blushes, that I should so soon prevail upon her: and thus the morning breaks out of the clouds.  Simpl. 
By your leave Landlady, where's my mother.  Omnes. 
Mistress Voluble?  Moth. 
Here's my son, he shall be a witness I am his mother, I am married to this Knight, and they would persuade me out of myself.  Sir Wil. 
'Tis come about again, Is this your mother?  Simp. 
I have asked her blessing in my days.  Vol. 
There is no remedy, 'twas your own Curate did it.  Jeer 
Give you joy Mr. Justice.  Iust. 
Conspiracy, is there no law for this?  New. 
Yes, yes, the canon law, and you must keep her.  Vol. 
Let me obtain Madam your fair construction, Sir William you are sped to your desires, and you are fitted monsieur Galliard, but Nice, the Jewels must return to their right owner.  Gal. 
Excuse a moy.  Ni. 
It must be so, I keep my wedding ring for thee sweet heart.  Vol. 
I ask you pardon sir, and Mistress Lucy, I had a plot upon your loves, to endear young Simpleton, in hope your credulous nature, to avoid melancholy, might have been engaged to some licentious rudeness, and so made yourself unworthy of her affection, but here I must confess I have no skill in stars nor fortune telling, and am but one among the rest that have deceived your easy faith, forgive me, as I wish you may thrive in your affections.  New. 
I am confirmed.  Beau. 
Nay then let marriages go round, with this take both possession of my heart and fortunes.  Man. 
You but enlarge my power to do you service.  New. 
Your love, and joys be constant. Mr. justice you must embrace Mistress Voluble.  Iu. 
Well, I will love thee for thy wit; but no more wandering.  Vol. 
You wholly sir shall steer me, and to invite more welcome from you sir, I have not lived upon the common charity, I have a state is not to be despised.  Enter Ieere Maior. Iust. 
sayst thou so, we'll put our stocks together and live merrily.  New. 
Will they not take his word? alas poor Formal, there, there's their ransom, bid the whore be honest, I'll plead his reconcilement to my Lady.  jeer Ma. 
I am gone.  Simp. 
But d''ee hear, must I ha' no wench, at the end of the play? that have taken all this pains? what will you do with me?  Iust. 
Well remembered, this Lady did accuse him; though I missed of the Mother, I will make sure of the son, make his warrant for Newgate presently.  Simp. 
How Sir?  Clerk. 
I know how very well Sir.  Lu. 
You called it love before, I freely pardon him.  Sir Wil. 
Let this Day be consecrate to peace, and Hymen.  Just. 
And the Night to Venus; let it be so, and thank this Gentlewoman.  Simp. 
I thank you all, and will never trust a witch for your sake, I'll go seek out my wits.  Just. 
Let no man part, so many hearts here tided,  
Stay till we drink a health to every Bride.  
Flourish—  Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.