THE TOWN-SHIFTS, OR, THE Suburb-Justice: A COMEDY.  
As it is Acted at His Royal Highness the Duke of York's Theatre.  
Licenced, May 2. 1671.  
Roger L'Estrange.  
LONDON, Printed for Thomas Dring, at the White Lion next Chancery-Lane, in Fleetstreet: And William Cademan, at the Pope's Head in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange. 1671.   

TO His Worthy, and Esteemed good Friend, STEPHEN MOSEDELF, Esquire.  
SIR,  
THe favours I have so frequently found from your continual kindness, is the occasion I have taken the Confidence to kiss your hand with this homely Offer of my sincere Services. I know your Ingenuity will easily discover those imperfections which your Generosity will as quickly pardon. But lest they should come too fast, and fall too heavy upon your patience, be pleased to take this truth as an allay. That it was thought on, begun, and finished, in a fortnight: therefore unlike to appear so Correct, as in reasonable expectation a Play should be, before it passes Stage-proof. I must confess it a great defect of Judgement in me, and expect to be accused of much irrational Confidence, for committing this Minor to make its way through so large a Congregation of Critics, as appear in the persecution of all Plays. But 'tis with me, as with Animals, that boldly attempt swimming, wanting reason to apprehend the water fatal: So I (without fear of Censorious Lashes, which a wiser Man might have expected to be the Conclusion of such an Adventure) have plunged myself unawares into a merciless Sea of Satirists; which I fear will prove Fatal, if I find not protection under your Patronage.  
Which is the humble request of,  
Sir, Your Obliged, and Obedient Servant, EDW. REVET.   

PROLOGUE.  

YOu are of late, Gallants, grown so severe,  
Plays on the Post are damned, before you hear:  
Why should you be such strangers to remorse,  
To Judge, before you try? The fairest Course,  
Can we for once advise, would be to stay  
And hear the Cause, before you give't away.  
But since 'tis so, we scorn to court a smile:  
Be cruel as you can, scoff, and revile  
Till you have spent your Spleens; that so you may  
Want them for to condemn a better Play.  
This may deserve the worst that you can say;  
Would the Judicious only Critics be,  
They'd do't, where there's just cause, and moderately.  
But there's an upstart Crew, a Generation  
Of little Fops, Critics by imitation:  
Young Men in Flaxen wigs, just sent to Town,  
For to be cheated, and to wear a Gown.  
These are the little things, perched in the Pitt,  
Making of noises, which some Fools think wit:  
Cry down what is now, or what e'er was writ.  
Be just for once, and grant me this demand;  
Let me be doomed by those that understand:  
Death Glorious looks, brought by a Noble hand.    


Dramatis Personae.  
LOvewell, Mr. Cademan.  
Friendly, Mr. Medbourn.  
Faithful, Mr. Westwood.  
Leftwell, Mr. Angel.  
Pett, Mr. Norris.  
Frump, Mr. Sandford.  
Stingey, Mr. Sherwood.  
Runwell, Mr. Whaley.  
Moses, Mr. Williams.  
Constable, watchmans, and Servant's.  
Leticia, Mrs. Lee.  
Fickle, Mrs. Long.  
Betty, Mrs. Dixon.  
Goody Fells. Mrs. Norris.   

Plays Printed for, and sold by Thomas Dring.  
LOve and Honour.  
Unfortunate Lovers.  
Raze a Wife, and have a Wife.  
Thierry and Theodoret.  
The Woman-Hater.  
The Changeling.  
Albumazar.  
School of Compliments.  
Hero and Leander, Trag.  
Plays now in the Press.  
The Amorous Prince.  
Six day's Adventure, or the New Utopia.    

THE Town-Shifts.  

Actus primus.  

Scena prima.  Enter Lovewell, solus. 
THanks to ill Fortune; I have lived long enough, and spent money enough, to make me poor in pocket, and rich in Experience; in which expense, both of time and money, I've learned there's nothing so great a fault, or less a Man's Friend, that desires to live in a full Fortune, than Honesty. My losses at Dice have sufficiently qualified me for an expert cheat in that confounded Calling. My Conversation with those kind things, called Women, has very well enabled me to perform the gentile profession of pimping, now, of all Vices, most in fashion; and that blushing Fool Modesty's so much my Enemy, that I want the confidence to wheadle a poor Tailor to take my rags off, and new rig me. Whilst I had money, never came a Night, but I was Ushered home by half a dozen of the Sons of this sinful Town, to lay me safe in my Lodging, but those went with my Money. Yet, Sot that I am, pestered with an old fashioned Principle of Honesty, I must needs hate to do as I have been done by, though the Devil offers me an excellent opportunity in Young Leftwell, a Fellow newly come to a large Estate, got by his damned Father, by the fall of many a fair Family; who has scarce wit enough to be made the sore-man of a Watch. Now, whether it be not Religion to work upon this Animal; faith I think—  Enter to him, Friendly, and Faithful. Friend. 
Why, how now, Ned, pining in poverty?  Faith. 
Or contriving a way to create new Clothes?  Friend. 
Or, art waiting here with a watery stomach, in expectation of an Apparition of Pork and Turnips? 'Sdeath, Ned, this is the worst way of diet the Devil could direct thee.  Love. 
You're merry, Gentlemen; you're merry. Sure, the Devil you spoke of, Friendly, has made you so; has he not got up into your Garret at St. Giles', and bought your soul for a small morsel of Money? Why, the Spanish threepences I left with you could never produce this spirit. You're grown witty, and wanton; what, are you well lined in the pocket? Come, let's see; pish, never retreat; what a Rascal are you, to rally thus!  Faith. 
If your design be to search his pockets, prithee desist; for, to my knowledge, they fell out of his Breeches a Month ago; and he could have spared nothing better, for he has had no employment for them this twelve month.  Friend. 
Pox of your Trumpeters face; must you undertake to talk with your plump countenance? I am a Rogue, if I have not seen a Butter-eating Dutchman, that has been drowned nine days, appear like a trim Courtier, in comparison of thee. Thou art a Fellow that wouldst give thy Ears (for Money thou hast none) to kiss the hand of a Kitchen Wench, in hopes to find fat enough upon her fingers, to allay the fury of thy Stomach.  Love. 
Leave labouring your little wits, and draw near, for I intent you two to be of my Council.  Faith. 
Ned, Ned, we have always found your Counsel to be nothing but persuasions to poverty, what a blessed thing it is to live Honest, and be lousy; that it is better to be lazy, and lack every thing, than work in the ways of wickedness for wealth.  Friend. 
The Rogue by chance has clapped upon a truth. 'Tis even so, Ned. We have fed so long upon your Divinity Lectures, that we have almost forgot to eat in earnest, and have hardly Linen enough left to harbour a Louse. Therefore we'll have no more on't, dear Monsieur Melancholy; for my part, I'm resolved to turn Hector, quarrel in the streets with Drunkards, and so steal Hats and Perukes; and begin to believe it a very pious way of living; Ay, and 'tis very taking.  Faith. 
And I'm resolved to follow thee; either fight, filch, pad, or pimp; and no longer suffer under the horrid persecutions of Poverty.  Both. 
So, fate you well, Sir; far you well.  Love. 
If I thought you were such wretched Rascals as you are painfully making appear, you should even pine in your poverty,  participate in my pious, and I hope, profitable design; but I know ye better. You hear, gentlemans, that Young Leftwell is come of Age, though not to Years of discretion. Do you believe it a sin to bubble this abominable Brute out of a part of that ill got, and like to be worse spent, Estate?  Friend. 
Faith, Ned, I think none at all; but how to do it, will require some time to consider on't: I could make shift to do it with the die, but the Rogue has been so cautious of that from his Cradle, that he 'swounds at the sight of them.  Faith. 
Then Drinking will do nothing; for a pint of Ale puts a Padlock upon his Pocket; and you may as well persuade a Presbyterian Parson to Charity, as him out of a penny; there's no way, but to unlock his lechery by the sight of a fine soft Wench.  Love. 
O hang him, he was once in Love with his Uncle's Kitchenmaid, and, (as he calls it) was crossed in his affection; and ever since, the Fool faints at the sight of a Female.  Friend. 
But good Clothes must first be thought on; for you know we three are at present (as a man may say) in a very threadbare condition; which this Clod-pole hates worse than an Old Alderman does Hunting. 'Tis certain we shall never be received in this garb. Ned, cannot you get the old confiding man, sweet Mr. Sowell, to new suit us, in order to this design, with a large promise of sudden satisfaction?  Enter Leftwell, and his Man Moses. Love. 
See where the Ass comes, saddled in silk. Let's all put on sobriety, and salute him.  Leftw. 
Moses, can you tie a shoe in the newest fashion?  Moses. 
Sir, I tied your Fathers a fore you were born, and (peace be with him) he never disliked it.  Leftw. 
Come to, then, but have a care of my Corns, good Meses. How now, Ned, no new Clothes yet; I would you were finer, that you might be fit for my Company.  Love. 
I am sorry, Sir, that my ill garb commands me from your good Company.  Leftw. 
Prithee Ned, what are these Tatterdemallions that attend thee? they look like men of the forlorn hope, with half their Clothes taken off by small shot. 'Slife, there's one has a hole shot through his Hat.  Love. 
Friends of mine, Sir; that you would honour in acknowledging.  Friend. 
Sir, your most humble Servant; I should be proud to be better acquainted.  Left. 
Sir, I don't know you, nor desire to be better acquainted with you, till you get better Clothes on your back. There's you, and your Friend, would serve for a couple of Scare-crows, if you could get Credit for carriage into the Country. I'll plague that Fellow, when I was poor, he persecuted me.  Aside. Faith. 
Td's Death, Lovewell, I shall be constrained to kick him; I cannot hold.  Love. 
O, by all means do, and starve for't.  Left. 
Ned Lovewell, how long have you known these Raggamuffin's?  Love. 
Why, an't please you, Sir, about a dozen years.  Left. 
Always in the same Clothes, I warrant; for less time sold never have taken 'em into so many pieces. Do you ever lie with them? Are their Shirts any better than their Suits?  Love. 
You're too great a Tyrant. They are, I assure you, Sir, Gentlemen of a very ancient Family.  Left. 
If their Family be as old as their Clothes, 'tis Ancient indeed. God by'e, Gentlemen; if ever I see you again, I shall certainly dream of a Dunghill. Come along, Moses.  Exeunt Left. Moses. Faith. 
What a damned Rogue is this? he has abused us beyond bearing.  Love. 
Let him talk on; I find now what will do it. I'll straight to serious Sowell, and solicit him to help us: Meet me about seven a Clock at the Old House.  Both. 
Heavens bless thee with the spirit of effectual persuasion.  Exeunt Omnes.  

Scena Secunda.  Enter Leticia, Fickle, Betty, in a Garden. Let. 
Cousin Fickle, thou hast some of the strangest humours in thee, that ever Maid was mad withal. Thou never lik'st a dress above half an hour, nor a man more than half a day: Thou art a mere Proteus, and puttest thyself into as many shapes. Thou hast been this one day in six several dresses; and the last week loved, and hated, seven several Men. No body that knows thee believes thee any thing else but distracted. We shall have thee, e'er long, fall out with Life, and die for diversion.  Sick. 
And thou art (Dear Coz.) as mad the other way; thou hadst rather wear thy Clothes till they are mouldy, then give thy Maid the trouble of a new tiring. That garb and Gown you now go in, is as well known as the Church, and I believe you think it as durable; for Betty says you never intent to change it.  Betty. 
O fie; Madam, never trust me, if ever I talked of your Ladyship at this unmannerly rate.  Let. 
Let her run on, Wench; I'm certain she'll be out of love with this way of talking quickly: I've a mind to see if she can continue a quarter of an hour in any one thing.  Sick. 
Then, Cousin, thou art mad of one Man. Thou hast loved a Fellow in foul Linen (I think he's a Gentleman) but what then? thou hast loved him almost half a year, which is a horrible thing to think on. But I am weary of the Garden; I'll go talk of State-affairs to my old Uncle. Good b'ye, Coz.  Exit Fickle. Let. 
Go thy ways, Madcap: I'll undertake, before my Father can turn about and talk two words, she'll be weary of the first, and go to find new Company.  Betty. 
I vow, Madam, she wearies me out of my little wits, to pin, and unpin Curls; to add, and diminish colour; to new place the Pendants: any, sometimes at Noon day, to put on Coifs and Pinner's. I would to Heaven she were well married, that I might not be pestered. But now I talk of Marriage, pray, Madam, when did you hear from Mr. Lovewell?  Let. 
Not a great while; Betty, I'm afraid I must wear the Willow, I doubt he has left me; what thinkest thou?  Betty. 
O, Madam, I dare swear, he had rather lose his Eyes. If that Man be not truly a Gentleman, there's no Gentility in being. 'Tis a thousand pities he's poor: In spite of his low garb he will look like himself; I'll tell you, Madam, when I have light him down stairs, and I dare swear he has not had three shillings in his pocket, he has put half a Crown into my hand, when I was grieved to take it. 'Twere sin, to doubt his Love.  Let. 
Betty, I doubt you'll prove my Rival; could you find in your heart to love him, if I should leave him?  Betty. 
If I could not, I wish I might die a Maid; which would be much against my will, Madam.  Let. 
Hark, does not some body knock at the Garden Gate? Go see who ' 'tis.  Betty. 
I go, Madam; I vow, I hope from my heart 'tis he.  Exit Betty. Let. 
I love him well; yet, if I marry him, I'm lost; and left to languish in a life of loathed poverty, for he is poor. And 'tis because he has a generous soul, he is so. My Father cannot hear of him with patience; for he had rather wed me to a Brute, with Money, than to the best of Men, that wants it. That Age should so defective be in Reason; as to prefer this sordid Dunghill Earth before the best of Gallantry and worth.  Enter Lovewell. 
But here he comes, and Betty gone; this Baggage never fails to leave him to all opportunities; but I'll act a Woman's part, for once; I'll appear strange, to try him.  Love. 
My dear Leticia!  Let. 
Soft; Sir, you have been away so long, you have forgot your duty. I pitied you whilst you knew Civility, and for that reason indulged you; and thought to have persuaded my Maid to Marry you, and got my Father to put you into a Farm, in hopes you would in a little time become a perfect Ploughman. Your mis-behaviour now makes me believe now you have been one. And so good b'ye, Sir.  Love. 
Dear Madam, let me conjure you.—  Let. 
Hold, Sir, no conjurations; if you have any thing to say, speak soberly, and at distance: I find, allowing you too near address, begets you confidence.  Love. 
Will not this posture serve, as well as any?  Knelt. Let. 
I, truly, I think that best becomes you; now go on, Sir.  Love. 
Then I proceed, and beg a knowledge of my Crimes; and why I find those kill frowns; a Cloud on that fair face, which was always wont to wear such smiles as sweetened all my sorrows, and made me triumph in despite of tears. Have I done ill? tell me, that I may die: 'Twere Villainy, to live after a Crime committed against you.  Enter to them, Pett, her Father. Pett. 
How's this? Certainly, that Fellow believes my Daughter to be the Goddess Ceres, and he's begging bread. I'faith, I shall put you besides your Petition. De'you hear, Sir; there's nothing for you, I can assure you.  Let. 
We're both undone— My Father— what will you do?  Pett. 
Friend, what's your business here? A man would guests by your Clothes you should have more kindness for your stockings, than to beg on your knees. 'Tis ten to one, whether she had given you enough to have mended what you wore out in your worship. But hark you, Sir; I believe, by your face, you come to solicit her Love. Pray pack off, Sir, or I'll make my Cane walk about your Coxcomb.  Love. 
Pray, Sir, will you—  Pett. 
Pray, Sir. Pray me no preys; but be gone, or I shall remove you at a very unmannerly rate: Will you stir, Sir?  Love. 
Let me entreat—  Pett. 
I'll spoil your entreaties, with a pox to you. Put this Fellow out of doors, and see him pumped.  Let. 
Good Sir, have a little pity of the poor Gentleman; being hard pursued by Bailiffs, he, to avoid them, got over the Garden Wall; and fearful he had frighted me, when you came in, was earnestly ask pardon. Now, Sir, you know the full of his offence, I hope you will retract your Sentence.  Pett. 
I thought 'twas some such Run-away-Rascal; no, he shan't be pumped, but turn him out to the liberty of the Law; let him pay, or to Prison, a God's name; turn him out of doors there.  Exit Love. 
Come, Daughter, I hope in a short time to have a Husband for you; in the mean while I shall keep you from such Cattle as this; for I begin to find this is but an excuse, to hid this beggarly Fellow's kindness. Let me ever see you with him again, and you shall e'en to him for altogether, with as many tatters as he has; for I am resolved to dis-own you.  Let. 
Sir, you know my affections hitherto have waited on your will, and shall do still.  Pet. 
I wish they may; come in with me.  Exeunt.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Goody Fells, Friendly, Faithful. Fells. 
Good Morrow, Gentlemen; I suppose you think I can feed upon Faggot sticks, or pay my Rent with Cheese parings; why, what do you mean, Gentlemen? What do you mean? Must I never have my Money? here is now seven shillings, for seven week's lodging, and as much for diet, and washing the little linen you have, God knows; this is money in a poor Woman's pocket, gentlemans.  Friend. 
Dear Landlady, be mollified; let not your passion put you besides your Reason.  Fells. 
Talk not to me of Reason, wretch, as thou art; give me my Money, I'll make more than one know on't, else. Then there's that blundering Sot, your Companion, that stands sneering, and says nothing, could come and borrow Money of my Maid; I'll call her, to witness it.  Faith. 
Well, what then, Beldame?  Fells. 
Well, 'tis very well; if Young Wenches must work to lend you their wages.  Faith. 
You, Dame damnable, hold your bawling tongue, in the Devil's name, and cease dunning, or I'll draw it out of your Mouth as long as my Arm.  Friend. 
Prithee hold thy idle prating; you must give better words, fore George we shall get no Dinner else to day. Come, Landlady, let me persuade you into peace; a little time will enable us to pay you all: I have a Bill of Exchange to receive a hundred pounds within six weeks, and it shall all wait upon thy Command, dear Landlady.  Fells. 
Gentlemen, you know, Gentlemen, I am as unwilling to speak, as the Child unborn; but when I am forced to it, you must not take it ill. I want four shillings of my Quarters Rend for my House, to make it up five and twenty; if you could but furnish me with that, it would do me a mighty kindness.  Faith. 
Pox of your old, ugly, abominable— no more dunning.  Fells. 
O you Rogue, I will ask for my own, when you are hanged. Sirrah, han't I been fain to lend you my own Shift to wear, whilst yours was washed, to keep you from being lousy? Don't you now wet my poor dead Husband's? I cannot speak of him, without tears.  Weeps. Friend. 
Poor Landlady, lament no more; 'tis true, Will was an honest fellow, and one that lived in the fear, as a Man may say, and would drink off his quart, or two, of Ale, as quietly as a Quaker, upon another Man's cost.  Fells. 
I, Mr. Friendly, you knew him. Don't you remember, when I sold Fruit first, how he beat Christopher Crab, the Costermonger, for calling o'me Grundy; he would not let a Lamb wrong me: he used always to call me his Monkey.  Friend. 
Ay, marry did he. But, Landlady, I hear you have a Flitch of Bacon sent you from Will's Friends.  Fells. 
That I have indeed, Mr. Friendly; and 'tis as good as ever was cut with Knife: And if you will please to come home at dinner time, and eat a piece, with an Egg, you shall be very welcome. It may be done homely, but I'll warrant you cleanly.  Friend. 
By this light, Landlady, I don't know a better Cook than thou art, in all Christendom; and here's honest Tom has said so a thousand times.  Fells. 
'Tis more your goodness, than my desert, to say so, Sir. I hope, Mr. Faithful, you'll take no notice of what I have said.  Faith. 
No notice in the World, Woman; get Dinner ready, we'll come in time.  Exeunt omnes, severally.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Leticia, Betty, at a distance. Let. 
My Servant, I'm afraid, is something solitary, where e'er he is; he cannot choose but wonder what's his, fault; my Father's coming in disturbed both him and me: but here I have a Letter ready writ shall satisfy how well I love him; and that my last anger only was to try him. How sad a thing is Love, when it wants liberty? The Man I love is one that does deserve as much as Man may do; but yet my Father says, he that wants Money, consequently wants Merit. What shall I do in this extremity? Love answers thus; In having him, I live; in missing him, I die; I must do Cupid Justice.— Betty.  Betty. 
Madam.  Let. 
I've work for you to do; and such as you'll take kindly: can you find in your heart to carry this Letter to Mr. Lovewell?  Betty. 
Faith, Madam, not contentedly, if I thought it were not kind. Pray, Madam, Commiserate the poor Gentleman: you have enough for yourself, and him, and twenty to attend you.  Let. 
I, but my Father loves him not so well as thou dost. He'll not hear of him that has nothing answerable to my full fortune.  Betty. 
May your Father go into another World then, and let him live no longer, to hinder the happiness of two such real Lovers.  Let. 
Away, you Baggage, carry your Letter, and take this purse; desire him to pay it where I ordered him; then bring me word, how he takes the Intelligence.  Betty. 
I am gone, Madam.  Exit Betty. Let. 
Thou active god of Love, prescribe a way To make me happy in a Marriage day.  Exit.  

Scena quinta.  Enter Lovewell, Friendly, Faithful. Love. 
Prithee stand farther off, thy breath stinks of Red-Herrings, enough to stifle a man. I'm ready to run mad; never was man so miserable.  Friend. 
Why, what's the matter, man? Art clapped by some kind Companion? or does thy Conscience accuse thee of living too long honest?  Faith. 
Or, has Sewell given a sad denial; so that there's no hopes of new Habit?  Love. 
Gentlemen, though nothing you guests at is the cause of my discontent; yet I can tell you that will trouble you; there's little hopes of your being tired in new Trappings: you may live still in your leather Linings, and increase in . Sewell proves inexorable, as to you, though kind to me. Gentlemen, mine are making; 'tis very true, Gentlemen, I wish the case were your own; yet I have something still sticks worse upon my stomach. Prithee stand further off, thou'lt stifle me with thy breath.  Friend. 
Out upon you, for a fretful fop; you have been trading with some three-half-penny Wench, that's sweetened with a pennyworth of Pomatum, and now your Nose allows nothing else.  Love. 
Prithee, Friendly, wilt thou tell me one thing?  Friend. 
Faith, I will.  Love. 
But will you seriously?  Friend. 
By this light, I will.  Love. 
Did you drink to day after your Dinner?  Friend. 
The Devil's in this Satirical Fellow; he pretends to be always melancholy, and then he's most maliciously abusive.  Love. 
Ha', ha', ha'.  Faith. 
Our business is like to be well carried on between a couple of conceited Coxcomb. If you can live with laughting at one another, I would have you do nothing else; if otherwise, why don't we come to the business? Hast thou persuaded the Tailor to provide us Tackle?  Love. 
Come, gentlemans, I'll put you out of your pain. What d'ye think he says?  Friend. 
d'ye call this putting people out of their pain, to set their brains upon the Rack to read your deal with a damned Tailor, that no body knows where to find besides yourself. Prithee, be serious but one minute, and let's be satisfied  Love. 
Why then I'll tell you. After I had taken a great deal of pains to find him, and inquired at every House where they sold a sealed quart for two pence.  Faith. 
Well, what then?  Love. 
Why, then I missed him. And I assure you, never saw him since I saw you.  Friend. 
Faith, you have taken a great deal of pains, and made a mighty bustle, to bring forth nothing.  Faith. 
I'll be hanged if he has not been drunk ever since in a Chimney corner, with some Weavers Wife, without Moregate; and at last been beaten out by her Husband, and that makes him melancholy.  Enter Betty. Betty. 
Your Servant, Mr. Lovewell; will you give me leave to speak one word in private with you?  Love. 
Pretty Mrs. Betty; I'll wait on you instantly. Pray, dear Friends, leave me now. At Night I'll meet you, and give you (I hope) a good account of all our concerns.  Friend. 
Ned, Ned, this won't do; this is a little unkind: you have had a share in a Mistress of mine,  now. What need you make these pretences to put us off? We know your meaning, never mince the matter, man; she is a very pretty Wench; I would I were with her where thou hast been.  Love. 
I faith, Frank, she's very civil. Let me desire you to lay aside all thoughts to the contrary, and you shall command me any thing. Prithee leave me a little.  Faith. 
Don't believe him, Frank; he'll feign a hundred things to fob us off: but if I stir without a share in this prize, I'll be pegged to a post for boys to throw rotten Pears at. Remember, Ned, you would not leave me one Morning, when my Landress came to my Chamber.  Betty. 
Sir, I see you're engaged. I'm sorry I came at this unlucky time to trouble you.  Love. 
Dear Mrs. Betty, I beg your pardon; I am but giving these two Bailiffs directions about a business that concerns me▪ I shall have done in a minute.  Friend. 
I have no more heart to go, than a Man has to play at Dice the day before he's to be hanged.  Love. 
Let me conjure you by all our Friendship, not to offer me this most unmannerly affront. You don't know what injury you do me. Dear Friends desist, she's one that waits upon a person of Quality, and a near relation of mine, and not of that strain you take her; faith, she e'ant.  Faith. 
What a pox, ne'er tell us this. I ha' known you myself these dozen years, and never see any thing with you look like an honest Woman; nor will believe this so, though thou swear it by the soul of thy dead Father. What an idle thing is this in you, to persuade people to things so improbable, that know the World as well as you do; To go tell us that a Wench, in this garb, would be sent to a Gentleman's Chamber at this time o'th' day, if there want a design to do— Fie, fie.  Friend. 
What harm will it do you, Ned, to let us have a little liberty with this pretty piece of Woman's flesh? She'll be as fit for you again to morrow, as e'er she was. You know we are both sound.  Betty. 
Your Servant, Sir; I'll call some other time.  Love. 
Mrs. Betty, I've but a little more to say now, and they'll be fully informed in my affairs. Gentlemen, either leave me, or resolve to fight me; for I would not endure to be thus affronted by my Father. Have you forgot all Friendship?  Friend. 
No, hang ye, I love you a little too well yet, to fight with you for a Whore; and so good buy to ye.  Faith. 
'Tis very fine, that we have lived thus long, and must now be Hectored out of a Wench: I shall be quit with you, Sir.  Love. 
Gentlemen, your Servant; pray be careful in the business.  Both. 
We shall take care to requite you.  Ex. Friend Faithful. Love. 
Was ever man thus pestered by a couple of Puppies▪ Aside. Now, Mrs. Betty, I'm sorry I have been constrained by the tyranny of business, to make you stay thus long.  Betty. 
If it were much longer, Sir, I should not have believed it a trouble, since 'tis to serve you. For I think I have a Letter here comes laden with Love: if I thought it had not, some body else should have been the Messenger for me; for I hate to be concerned in any thing that may diminish the content of a Gentleman. This is the Letter; and this Money my Lady desires you to pay where she has appointed.  Love. 
Mrs. Betty, I acknowledge myself much bound to you.  Reads. 
SIR,  
I Am sorry my Father fell so unhappily upon us, that hindered my Conclusion, which I intended as kind as I began cruel; but however I appeared then, I am now as you have always found me, that unhappy, but affectionately, Yours,  
L. P. As you love me, receive what I have sent you.  
Most blessed tidings. Mrs. Betty, pray be pleased to pay my humble service to your Lady; and let her know, I cheerfully obey her Commands.  Betty. 
I hope, Sir, she has laid no more upon you then you are able to bear. Your obedient Servant, Sir.  Love. 
Your humble Servant, Mrs. Betty. Exit Betty. This comes kindly, and cuts off much of my care; for I find my Mistress faithful, and here's Money to new-Clothe me, and my two Friends.  Enter Runwell. 
How now, Runwell; how dost thou hold out? canst thou not find in thy heart to eat?  Run. 
Sir, I believe I should not run away from a piece of a Roasted Horse: but let hunger be hanged, I defy it; feed, or fast, I'll never leave you, while I live, Sir.  Love. 
Here's Money for you; when you have dined, step to Sewell, the Tailor; bid him come to me.  Run. 
By this hand, Sir, if he refuse to come, I'll bring him on my back.  Exit Runwell. Love. 
Now will I set Sewell to work for me and my ill-clad Companions, who I am sure have gratitude enough to take it kindly. 
Then, my young Squire, I'll try what may be done:  
Where no game's played, there's nothing can be won.   Exit. 
Finis Actus primi.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scena prima.  Enter Pett, Leticia, Fickle, Betty. Pett. 
BY my troth, Girls, you spoil yourselves with lying so long a bed; it makes you look like a great-bellied Woman that has lost her longing. Betty, I think I must give you a Commission to bang 'em up.  Betty. 
I Vow, Sir, I think you must get some body else to beat me up too then; for the Young Ladies have spoilt me, and made me ready to lie as long as they.  Fickle. 
Uncle, your Man has the worst way of dressing you in the World; Sir, he always puts your Ruff on one way. 'Tis an errand shame to see a Man so long in one fashion, as you have been.  Pett. 
What, art thou mad, Coz? There is but one way of putting on a Ruff, unless you would have me wear the forepart behind.  Sick. 
Look here, Sir, is your Ruff tied as my Whisk is? Pray, Sir, let me tie it. I protest I'll lay twenty shillings I tie it better than Old Ralph has done.  Pett. 
I like it very well, good Cousin, if thou couldst like it to let it alone; no body has found fault with it this twenty years, besides thee. But I know thou wilt never let me alone till thou hast done it; therefore, prithee dispatch me quickly.  She pulls off one of her Ribbons, and ties it. Let. 
Did he receive it with such joy?  Aside. Betty. 
Joy! He could have said or done no more, had I come for to secure him of eternal happiness hereafter.  Sick. 
I'll be judged by all the World now, if it be'nt handsomer by a hundred times; it looks like any Cravat. I vow, Uncle, if my Aunt were alive again, she would a new fall in love with you.  Pett. 
Why, what hast thou done, Cousin; tied up my Ruff like a shatter'd-brained Boy with a Tassel at my Chin? Prithee give me my Point again. A pox of your Cravats, you shall never dress me more, I'll assure you; here, Leticia, take it you, and tie my Ruff, and let her have her Ribbon.  Sick. 
Well, say what you will; I'm certain the Ribbon becomes you better than the Point. Betty, how thy Hood sits to day! I dare be whipped if thou didst not dress thee without the Glass; and this Wish sits all awry: step up to my Cabinet, I'll lend you one of my laced ones.  Betty. 
I thank you, Madam; I had as liff wear this to day.  Sick. 
Well, do then. Uncle, pray when comes my Cousin Let's Servant? I long to see him.  Pett. 
You'll be dressing of him as soon as e'er he comes within the doors, I dare swear. But to satisfy you, the man that loves her, and whom she must love (if she loves me) I expect to be here this Morning.  Sick. 
Pray, Sir, is he Young, or Old?  Pett. 
Why, Young, very Young; newly come of Age.  Sick. 
Is he a handsome man, Sir?  Pett. 
Very handsome, I protest, Cousin.  Sick. 
Has he money enough?  Pett. 
I, my good Girl; he has more money than twenty of the Whip-Jacks of this Town, who walk about with a half-starved footboy, that has fasted three days, and never eats, but when his Master treats a Wench.  Sick. 
Indeed, Sir.  Pett. 
I, indeed, Cousin.  Let. 
She'll weary my Father out of his wits.  Sick. 
Is he good-natured, Sir?  Pett. 
I, truly; I believe the Man to be of a good principle, and will be kind to a Wife.  Sick. 
Did he ever learn to Dance, Uncle?  Pett. 
I'll answer thee no longer; thou beginnest to be very impettinent, Coz.  Sick. 
Will you walk in the Gallery then, Sir?  Pett. 
Any where, so thou wilt promise me not to weary me with thy eternal rattle.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Lovewell, Friendly, Faithful, in their Gallantry. Love. 
Come, Gallants, move with Majesty. And show yourselves to the most advantage that may be. Faithful, you are always looking upon your shoestrings, like a Apprentice upon an Easter Holiday. Hold up your Head, and look handsomely; take your Gloves out of your pockets, and put them on your Hands. I'm afraid, if I should take this Rogue into Company, I should be troubled to teach him the way to take off his Hat.  Friend. 
Then the Rascals Peruke never stands the right way; and he makes legs so like a Loggerhead, that it would be supposed we took him out of a Mill, where he had learned to dance of a Malt-horse; for there's not a step that he takes in his new shoes, but up comes a stone in the pavement.  Love. 
I'll undertake, should he go into a Nobleman's Hall, he would stamp a row of black and white marble to pieces in less than half a minute: never Horse had such hoofs.  Friend. 
And then he's so great a Sloven, that by that time he has worn these Clothes but three days, they'll be laced with all manner of liquor, and as greasy as his old ones are, that the Rats have, since he left them off, run away with.  Faith. 
Talk on, Gentlemen, talk on; Cloth me thus but once a Month, and I'll for ever allow you the same privilege you now take of prating. Forgive me, dear Patron, for I cannot choose but laugh at you, and that idle fellow, as a couple of very impertinent fops.  Enter Leftwell, and Moses. Left. 
Ned Lovewell, how dost do, Boy? now I like thee; now thou look'st like thyself. Faith, I was resolved to find thee out, and to new-furnish thee at my own charge; thou wilt not believe how sad I have been e'er since I saw thee last. Let me look round about thee; faith, 'tis mighty rich: prithee what did it stand thee in? If I can serve thee in any thing, as far as my small Estate goes, 'tis all at thy Service, sweet Rogue.  Love. 
And I'll try you, Sir, since you're in so good a humour. Aside. Sir, I assure you you'd do me an exraordinary kindness, if you could furnish me and my two Friends with a hundred pounds, for two or three days, no longer.  Left. 
Pox on him, I thought he would not have fastened; would my words were in again.  Aside. 
Faith, Ned, if it will do thee a kindness, I cannot tell how to deny it. Here 'tis, with all my heart.  Love. 
Upon my Honour I'll see it safe returned, and esteem it a very great favour.  Friend. 
Faith, Sir, you have done us a very considerable kindness; and in requital, command me any thing.  Left. 
Sir, if you— 'Slife, I shall be undone; I was going to offer him as much more, who would, certainly, have accepted it as the first.  Aside. 
Sir, I rejoice I had it to serve you.  Faith. 
Sir, I hope we shall live to be grateful, and find a way to make you satisfaction for this more than ordinary favour.  Left. 
Sir, there needs none of this. But let me tell you one thing, without offence.  Faith. 
No exception, I assure you, Sir.  Left. 
Then, faith, I think you become your fine Clothes the worst of any man that ever wore such.  Faith. 
I must confess, Sir, I want the way of wearing Clothes well. I can afford to let you prate now, but I'll make your purse pay for't.  Aside. Left. 
Ned Lovewell, will you assist me in a design? Faith, I am going about to commit Matrimony. Will you help to make Love to my Mistress? I'll assure you she's the handsomest Woman within a hundred Mile of her; and a Man that has the way of giving good words may win her heart, as I am informed, for I never saw her.  Love. 
How do you know she's so handsome, then?  Left. 
Why, her Father says so, and sweats he'll swinge her, if she refuse to fall in Love with me, or likes any body else.  Friend. 
What need you have any help, then? Your business is done to your hand.  Left. 
That's true, Mr. Friendly; but I would fain have it done by fair means; and there's Ned Lovewell knows how to work upon a Woman at will. I would fain have him and you go to make up the Match. For his part, he'll be company for nothing but the Horses; we won't have him with us.  Faith. 
I am hearty glad the Cur dislikes my Company; since the profit I intent from him binds me from beating him.  Love. 
Pray, Sir, where lives the Lady, and what's her name? If we can do you any service, we're both ready to wait on you.  Left. 
Dear Ned, that's kindly said, and like thyself; and you, Frank Friendly?  Friend. 
Most willingly.  Left. 
It's old Pett's Daughter, the East India Merchant; he lives at Hackney.  Love. 
Say you so, Sir? I doubt I shall set you besides the Saddle: This falls out as I could wish: This Fool making choice of me to keep him Company, brings me to kiss the Hand of my fair Mistress, and by that means to manage my affairs as I could wish.  Aside. Left. 
Come, will you go, Gentlemen? I and my Man will walk before you, you may easily overtake us, for Moses is as stiff as a Tree.  Both. 
We will not fail to follow you.  Exit Left. Moses. Friend. 
Lovewell, how lik'st thou this? The Fool comes on finely.  Love. 
I have a design, Frank, in hand, will make us all men. You know he has made choice of us to be the means to make his Mistress love him. The same Lady that he speaks of I have loved long; and she has long loved me.  Friend. 
Dear Ned, proceed.  Love. 
My fortune being spent before I thought on't, my Clothes decayed, and having little left me to repair my ruins; all my proceed since have been by Proxy, excepting now and then a stolen visit over the Garden Wall; which lately in attempting, I was taken by her Father, and turned out by Grooms; which was the real cause of my late melancholy.  Friend. 
Td's death, then we're undone; he'll know you again, and so we shall be used worse than you were before.  Faith. 
Thy foolish fears, Friendly, have made us fail in many a fair design. Do you think the old fellow will know him again that he saw before but in half a Peruke, and not Clothes enough to cover him.  Love. 
God-a-mercy, Blunderbuss, he bolts out sometimes to the purpose. I'll undertake, Frank, he knows me no more than I should the Grand Signior, if I saw him.  Friend. 
So the young Squire shall be at the charge of all Entertainments, till you have found a way to cheat him of his Mistress.  Love. 
Right; now let's follow him. But what shall we do with this Fellow? I'm certain, should he undertake to walk it, he'll flounder with his flat feet; and we cannot conveniently call for clean Litter for him in a strange House.  Faith. 
Pox on you for a couple of Puppies; I know you dare not carry me with you, for fear of disobliging your Bubble. I'll meet you at Night at the Devil Tavern, for the Scene is altered since the Money came in; as long as that lasts I'll no more of the Can Office.  Both. 
A match; so God b'uy, blundering Tom.  Faith. 
Farewell, Fops.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Justice Frump, Stingey his Clerk, and Goody Fells. Frump. 
Gammer Fells, you are a very fiddling Woman, and are always worrying me and my Man for Warrants; what cause of Action have you against these men?  Fells. 
Why, an't like your Worship, I have 'em upon suspicions of perjury. 'Tis well known to your Worship that I understand the Law; they both swore to me solemnly by the cross of a Book, that they would pay me my Money on Monday Morning, and run away on Saturday Night.  Frump. 
That's right, the perjury lies good in that point. But how do you know they are gone?  Fells. 
Why, I'll tell your Worship, without giving your Worship the trouble of many words, for your Worship knows I am not a Woman of many words: I wish I had more, for the good of the poor Parish I live in; if I had, I could get Money enough, by teaching of young Maids to talk at the Bakehouse: for indeed, I help a great many Maids to Services, an't like your Worship, that sometimes are able to give their Mistresses but sad accounts when they come home.  Frump. 
Pray, Gammer Fells, fall to the business, and let me know how you are sure your Lodgers have quite left you; for if they come again, the perjury is void in Law.  Fells. 
Why, then, I'll tell you, Sir; my Maid peeped through the Keyhole, and see 'em put up all their goods in their pockets; and she's without to justify it.  Sting. 
It's a sign they had a strong Wardrobe.  Aside. Frump. 
Why truly, Gammer Fells, that's a very good proof; Stingey, set that down in your Table-Book, that we may make a Precedent of it, for we have many of these Mystical matters come before us; have you any thing more against these men? for I find the cause is foul o' their sides.  Fells. 
Yes, an't like your Worship; they own me seven shillings for Rent, besides seven and six pence, for washing Linen; and I hope the Law will allow me somewhat for the use of my own shift, I lent Mr. Faithful, whilst his was washed; for I can swear he wore it out extremely.  Frump. 
Goody Fells, in that case the Law somewhat differs. For Littleton says, what's lent is lent. But then there is a Statute of fifty sixth of Queen Elizabeth that makes some provision in that case. Stingey, what is the Statute in that case?  Sting. 
Why, an't like your Worship, the Statute of Queen Elizabeth is a Statute in Statu quo; and you know, Sir, that the English of Statu quo is, what you lend, you lose. Therefore I'm of Mr. Littleton's mind, that what is lent, is lent.  Frump. 
Gammer Fells, this is the very Letter of the Law; you must lose the loan of your smock. I, but I'll make 'em smoke for the rest. Have you made the Warrant, Stingey?  Sting. 
Yes, Sir, here ' 'tis.  Frump. 
You must give me a shilling; Woman.  Fells. 
With all my heart, an't like your Worship; without offence to your Worship, I think I know the price of a Warrant, as well as your Worship's self. I think they are all good, an't like your Worship.  She sumbles in her purse, and pays him in farthings. Frump. 
Stingey, direct her how to serve it.  He pulls out his Spectacles, and reads the farthings. Sting. 
Carry it, Gammer Fells, to Mr. Clout, the Constable; he is a wholesale Cobbler, and my Masters near Kinsman; he will be careful, for 'tis of great concern.  Fells. 
Bless your Worship; good buy to your Worship.  Frump. 
Goody Fells, pray do so much as change this farthing, I doubt it is not so right as it should be.  Fells. 
Mr. Thomas, if you be remembered, you left a penny Rowl unpaid of your last weeks breakfasts.  Sting. 
Truly, Gammer Fells, I think I did; I'll pay it. Then, Sir, I must have but five pence.  Exit Fells. Frump. 
This will prove a crabbed case, Stingey; let's go in, and consider on't: I protest, it almost confounds me.  Exeunt.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Pett, Leticia, Fickle, and Betty. Pett. 
I wonder Mr. Leftwell comes not.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir, here's one Mr. Leftwell desires to see you.  Pett. 
Desire him to walk in. Daughter, remember your Duty, and receive him kindly.  Enter Leftwell, Lovewell, and Friendly. Left. 
Sir, your Servant; I come to kiss your Hand. Waned that a-la-mode, Lovewell?  Love. 
Very well; proceed, proceed.  Left. 
Sir, I've made bold to bring my Friends.  Pett. 
Mr. Leftwell, they're welcome for their own sakes, and much more for yours. Gentlemen, you're welcome; pray be pleased to sit down.  Both. 
Your Servant, Sir.  Left. 
Pray, Sir, which of these three is my Mistress?  Pett. 
This is my Daughter, Sir.  Left. 
Faith, Sir, I like this little Gentlewoman as well To Betty. as her; but your Daughter has most Money, I believe; and 'tis that which makes the Mare to go, as the saying is.  Love. 
O this damned dog! the Devil's in him.  Left. 
Well then, Lady; since you are she, let me look upon you.  Let. 
I, pray good Sir, look, before you leap, by all means.  Left. 
Can you find in your Conscience to affect me? If you can't, let it alone, I'll look for some body else; for I suppose, there will be little love lost. Let me see you look as if you were a little out of your wits. I hear you have a great deal of wit; I'll try you, look upon that Gentleman, he's able to say more in half an hour than you can answer in seven year, as wise as you are.  Let. 
Why, has he more wit than you have, Sir?  Left. 
I, a hundred times, and a hundred to that.  Let. 
Then I assure you he's too hard for me, for I don't know what to say to you.  Left. 
I thought I should put you to't But now I'll desire Ned Lovewell to take you in hand; you shall see how much he can say more than I; I brought him to make love for me, but i'faith, I think I shall scarce find work for myself. Ned, prithee lend me your place a little, and take you mine.  Love. 
Your Servant, Sir; any thing to satisfy you.  Left. 
Mr. Pett, you must not be angry, for I am resolved to have your Daughter, whoever I speak to I'll but make a few pretty pretences to the rest.  Pett. 
I protest, a pretty mettleed man; I like his humour. I, I, Sir, make yourself as merry as you can.  Left. 
Lady, how do you like me?  Sick. 
So, so; you're a pretty kind of a man, but you wear your Clothes to the worst advantage that e'er I saw; your Bands are quite out of fashion. Why don't you wear a Cravat? I fancy 'twould become you prettily, let me tie your Band like one.  Left. 
Pough, let me alone, you'll all foul it. I hate this fooling: you think washing costs nothing. I never saw such a Woman in my life.  Sick. 
Then you should wear a lace about your sleeves; this makes you look ugly.  Left. 
I hope a man may look as he will, and wear what he will, for all you; it costs you nothing.  Sick. 
Nay, 'tis nothing to me; but before I would wear such shoestrings, I'd tie my shoes with blue tape.  Pett. 
Prithee, Coz, let the Gentleman alone; he wears what likes him.  Left. 
I'm glad you're come to my relief, I believe I should have lost all my Clothes else. I'll tell you this, Mistress'; had you been a Man, I'd a taken you over the face, for all your bravery.  Sick. 
There's a Clown. I protest, Sir, I told him in kindness, never let me live else.  To Friendly. Friend. 
Let me die, Madam, if I don't think he deserves to be hanged. Was ever such a dirty Rascal? E'en let him alone, Madam; I would not have you give yourself the trouble to laugh at him.  Left. 
Ned Lovewell, how do you like her? Pray, Sir, let me have her again. Give me your Hand, I'm a Horse if I doubt love you hearty; now do you love me?  Let. 
How can I choose, Sir? every body must love you that looks on you.  Left. 
Then I'll take your Father aside, and satisfy him how I love you, and what I intent to settle upon you; and so the work shall be done, before the World's ware of it. Mr. Pett, I desire to spend half an hour with you in private.  Pett. 
With all my heart, Sir; we'll walk in, and return presently. Gentlemen, you'll pardon us, business must be done.  Let. 
Sir, we'll take a walk in the Gallery till you come again.  Pett. 
Do so, Daughter.  Exeunt severally. Manet Betty. Betty. 
This Fool, Leftwell, produces a brave opportunity to bring Mr. Lovewell and my Mistress together; which there had been no way to have done without him; I hope, by this time, the affair is so well settled, that nothing can frustrate it. This Ass shall never carry her; if he does, both I, and all that are concerned in the Plot, do undoubtedly deserve a most infamous death.  
In Love's affairs the women's wits are best:  
I'll Club my share; let Fortune do the rest.  Exit. 
Finis Actus Secundi.    

Actus Tertius.  

Scena prima.  Enter Clout the Constable, Goody Fells, and Faithful. Fells. 
A Way with him, away with him; you're my Prisoner now: I'll have you up for my Rent, Sirrah, and my poor Maid's money out of pocket.  Faith. 
Ha', ha', ha'.  Fells. 
Bring him away, Captain Clout; do you see how he laughs at you? Thus he served me the very Night he run away with his Clothes. Come, Sir, I'll lend you a hand.  Faith. 
Mr. Constable, pray whither must I go; and what have you against me?  Clout. 
Why, I have a Warrant against you for Felony, and Perjury.  Faith. 
At whose suit, in the Devil's name?  Clout. 
At this Woman's; who is, Sir, as wise a Woman as any is in this Parish. You had best compound the business, and make the best of a bad matter.  Faith. 
'Sdeath, I'll kick—  Clout. 
How do you say, you'll kick me? kick me, Sir! I'd have you to know I am the King's Constable, and cannot be kicked by any Christian living.  Fells. 
I'll swear I heard him say he would kick ye; this shall come before Justice Frump, with the rest; I warrant thee that it shall. You kick a Constable of the Kings, and a Captain of the Trained Bands?  Faith. 
Pray, Mr. Constable, give me leave to speak a little.  Clout. 
I tell you as I told you before, I am the King's Constable; and 'tis not my place to give people leave to speak that are my Prisoners. Therefore come on, Sir; I charge you in the King's name, to come on.  Fells. 
I, I charge you in the King's Name to come before Justice Frump.  Clout. 
Pray, Goody Fells, what Commission have you to command in the King's name? Are you a Constable, Goody Fells? This is very fine, i'saith; I'll have that tried as soon as e'er we come before my Cousin Frump.  Fells. 
Well, Sir; you're a Captain, and a Constable; and a poor Woman must not have the liberty before you to be large in her own business, or else I could say something. And 'tis not unknown to some of the Parish, that I understand the business of a Constable as well as the best Clout in Christendom.  Clout. 
You understand the business of a Constable? Come, I'll put a question to you. Provided, Gammer Fells, that you were upon the Watch, as I was last night.  Fells. 
Well; why, what then? Pray say on, Sir.  Clout. 
Well, and you take a Man upon the Watch. And you take a Man upon the Watch, as I said before.  Fells. 
Under favour, Mr. Clout, you have said nothing else to the business yet.  Clout. 
Very good; The Man being thus taken, falls to play at Put with one of the Watchmen upon the Watch; and falling to play, they fall out; falling out, they fall together by the ears. Presently the Watchman takes me up a brown Bill, and beats me out his brains. Now presently after, there comes a Trial between the Man killed, and him that killed him. Which has the Law o'their side? Now, Gammer Fells.  Fells. 
The Man that was killed fell out with him that killed him; so he that was killed, was killed See defeddede; I know what I say, Captain Clout. I say See defeddede; which is to say, much against his will; therefore the Man killed has the right of the Law 'gainst him that killed him.  Clout. 
Well, Gammer Fells, you have done more, I protest, than Justice Frump himself could have done. If my Woman were dead, I would have thee before any Woman in the World.  Hugs her. Faith. 
Landlady, thou talk'st of wit enough for a Constable, thou art wise enough to make a Justice.  Clout. 
Why, Sir, there are some Constables have as much wit as some Justices. Pray, Sir, will you walk on, or I shall be fain to Command you in the King's name again.  Fells. 
I, Mr. Clout, I want my Money; pray let's make what haste we can.  Faith. 
We shall drink one glass of Wine before we go.  Clout. 
To do you a kindness, Sir, we'll drink one half pint: shall we, Gammer Fells? But remember, Sir, you threatened to kick me.  Exeunt:  

Scena Secunda.  Enter Lovewell, Leticia, Fickle, Friendly. Let. 
Now things are in this posture, Mr. Lovewell, pray have a care you put not all aside by your neglect: my Father (I'm afraid) will make all haste to expedite this Marriage. In having you, I venture all I have, or hope for; therefore have a little care extraordinary for her sake that loves you.  Love. 
Let me not live under Heaven's light one minute after I forget the least of your Commands, from whom I've had such honours heaped upon me. Can you believe I can be such a Slave, as to forget that thing is only able to complete my happiness?  Let. 
I love to hear you say you love me, and 'tis because I do believe you do so. Yet I am sad, and shall be, till I have escaped the fears I live in, of being forced by my too rigorous Father to be fettered to this fool of Men.  Love. 
Madam, when they come back, than we shall find how far they have proceeded; by that we may know which way to order our affairs; of which I shall not fail by Letters to acquaint you constantly.  Let. 
My Father will have such an eye over me, that I'm afraid I shall scarce ere be out of's sight. He has been strangely Jealous and Inquisitive  since he saw us in the Garden last (though now I think he knows you not again) therefore I doubt it will be very hard to have a Letter brought without his knowledge.  Love. 
Betty and I have made a bargain will prevent all fear; my Man is to pretend Marriage to her; by which means, he may still find admittance, and make her sensible, and she you, of all my Actions, and designs: which will be weak indeed, if not able to outdo all that your old Father, and that Young Fool can e'er contrive.  Let. 
I like that well. Now, Cousin Fickle, how do you find the Gentleman? Is he well fitted? Have you looked over his Linen?  Sick. 
How do you find your Friend, Cousin Let? Does he woo hard for Mr. Lovewell? I doubt he has been about his own business, I should like him the worse else, and forget him (I mean the Fool) that threatened to beat me for advising him to wear lace about his sleeves.  Friend. 
Shall I cut his tongue out for it, Madam?  Sick. 
For Heaven's sake do, Mr. Friendly; I'll love you as long as I live, if you will. I believe, Cousin, my Uncle and he will make the match against to morrow Morning, than thou art miserable: faith, rather than so, let's rise up before he comes. Thou shalt Marry Mr. Lovewell, and I'll e'en take Mr. Friendly here.  Let. 
A match, Cousin Madcap; but I doubt you can't keep your word, nor live so long in one mind. I protest, if thou shouldst, I would swear thou wert never true to any thing, but Matrimony.  Friend. 
Dear Madam, let me kiss this hand for that kind contrivance.  Sick. 
Nay, one shan't mock t'other; both, or none, Sir.  Friend. 
Both, a thousand times together; but here they come.  Enter Pett, and Leftwell. Pett. 
I am sorry we have made you stay thus long, Gentlemen; but Mr. Leftwell and I have done a good work since we went: we have set an end to wooing. Daughter, you're allowed but two days to prepare for Marriage, and making of Wedding Clothes. I hope these Gentlemen will dance at the Wedding.  Left. 
I faith, Ned, and Frank, the Lady there must Marry me, whether she will or no. Why, you must, Mistress, for all you look so. You two shall be my Bridemen, shan't they, Father Pett?  Pett. 
What you please for that, Son; the Gentlemen look like civil men, and will do very well.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir, Dinner waits on your Worship.  Pett. 
Come, gentlemans, will you walk in?  Exeunt omnes.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Faithful, Clout, Goody Fells. Faith. 
Was ever Man made thus Drunk by a Cuckoldly Constable, and an Old Applewoman? Captain Clout, the King's Constable, lend me your Commanding Staff to lean upon. Let me see, you laid out all.  Clout. 
Not all; Gammer Fells paid eleven pence towards the last Reckoning.  Faith. 
Captain Clout, you're a drunken Dog, and I defy you, and there's an end o'th' Story; therefore stand further off. What place it this? where are we?  Fells. 
Why, this is the Worshipful Justice Frump's House; an Honourable Gentleman he is, I hope he'll hamper you, i'faith. If he don't set you in the Stocks for being drunk, and put you into Prison for my Money, he is not the Man I took him for.  Faith. 
This Old Trot has not drunk her tongue out of rune yet. You Hell-Cat, with your Hogs face, I'll so feague you with this faggot-stick. Enter Stingey. How now, who's this that looks as if he had been got between a starved Quaker and a Holy Sister, behind the door of a Conventicle? Come hither, Sir, let me see, is your Nose made of Cheese?  Pulls him by the Nose. Sting. 
O, O, O.  Faith. 
O, say you so, Sir; I see, what e'er your Nose is made of, you have a tongue in your Head. What white-livered loggerhead are you?  Enter Frump. Frump. 
How now, Cousin Clout? I see you are an honest man, and careful in your Office. Is this the Malefactor?  Clout. 
An't like your Worship, Sir, this is the Man that made promise of Marriage to the Maid, borrowed her Money, cheated the Mistress, wore out her own Shift, now does, or lately did wear out her Husband's Shirt, sinfully swore to pay her her Rent one night, and shamefully run away, without any regard to his Oath, the next Morning. There lies the perjury, an't like your Worship.  Fells. 
Good Mr. Clout, give me leave to speak in my own cause; I think I understand the Law a little better than a Man that has not been above a Month in his Office.  Clout. 
Gammer Fells, you're a Fool in matters of Law; you know little of that: therefore I say, that I ought (being an Officer of State) to have the privilege of speaking, before any Woman that wears a Head.  Frump. 
Cousin Clout, go on; let me have a full of the business, that I may proceed to Sentence.  Faith. 
Mr. Justice, I shall wring you by the red Nose, if you listen to that Loggerhead any longer, before you hear me speak. Therefore let's have a Bottle of Sack, and so conclude the business.  Fells. 
Bottles of Sack won't pay me my Rent, nor repair my Linen, nor take up the Perjury; and that's the point I insist upon.  Faith. 
Why, you pernicious old Whore you; wherein am I perjured?  Frump. 
How, d'ye call Whore in the face of Justice? Gammer Fells, bring your Action, I'll bear you out on't. Sir, I'll tell you the Law as to matter o''at. But hold, let us proceed to the first Indictment. Stingey, read the Indictment.  Stingey Reads. 
YOu stand here charged, by the name of Thomas Faithful, at the Suit of Sicily Fells, of the Parish of St. Giles' in the Fields, in the County of Middlesex, Widow; for Perjury, and breach of promise to the Maid of the said Sicily, in point of Marriage, and the Sum of seven shillings, and six pence, with lawful Interest and damages for the forbearance thereof: for Lodging had at the House of the said Sicily; and moreover, in the sum of seven shillings of like Money, for Laundry work done by the said Sicily.  Faith. 
Well, well; I'll pay it all. Little Ananias, you and I will go to a Wench.  Sting. 
Pray, Sir, let me alone; I am none of those you take me for: I go to a Wench? I'd rather die than look upon a lewd Woman, in the way of wickedness.  Frump. 
Sir, guilty, or not guilty?  Faith. 
Honest old Rascal, do one thing well in thy life, and lend your man Money to go with me, and have a leap; I'll ne'er let go his Ear else.  Frump. 
Sir, I protest, let go my Man's Ear, and plead, or I'll have you pressed.  Sting. 
Pray, Sir, let go my Ear, or in earnest I'll bring my Action.  While they talk, Gammer Fells falls asleep. Clout. 
Gammer Fells, awake, and hear the Judgement of the Court.  She starts up. Fells. 
Tell not me of Judgement; let me have my Money, and the Man Married to my Maid, the King paid for the Perjury, and Mr. Clout paid for his pains.  Clout. 
His Worship must give Judgement, before the Malefactor can make payment, Gammer Fells.  Frump. 
I, Goody Fells, pray be patiented; fair and softly goes far, they say. Sir, you hear that your faults are of a high Nature; I'll tell you the letter of the Law in those cases you are now accused for. Plowden says, in his Pleas, and Reports, that, for Perjury, you ought to pay five shillings to the Justice you are brought before, and half a Crown to his Clerk. For Perjury is, Corpus cum eausa, by the Statute of the Three and Thirtieth of King James.  Faith. 
Plowden's a Puppy, and you're an Owl; and I'll see you hanged, and the Devil ride your starved Clerk Hackney to Hell, before you shall have one penny of me. Justice, prithee, send for a Pint of Wine.  Frump. 
Sir, ask any learned Lawyer about Town, they'll tell you, that Plowden was no Puppy; pray, Sir, pay but me and my Man the Money the Statute allows us, and I'll give you time for the payment of this poor Woman and her Maid.  Fells. 
Will you, faith, Justice Frump? That is fine, Justice Frump: shall I be fobbed off now with a promise of payment? Did I put my Cause into your hands for help, and you to put the perjury Money into your own pocket? are you willing, forsooth, that I must lie by the loss? Is this Justice? No, 'tis Jewishly done.  Faith. 
To him, Gammer Fells, to him, to him.  Frump. 
Gammer Fells, let me have my Money, and I'll take a course for yours. Pray, Sir, will you satisfy me and my Man, and pay for the Perjury?  Faith. 
Will your Worship be pleased to hear me?  Frump. 
If you have any thing to say for your , why Sentence should not pass upon you, pray speak, and remember the payment of the perjury Money. If I han't it, 'tis so much Money out of mine, and my Man's pocket, I protest to you; and that's all the Woman stands upon.  Fells. 
It's false; and your Worship is little better than a Liar in saying so: 'tis my own Money I want.  Frump. 
Woman, Woman, let your betters be served before you.  Faith. 
Mr. Justice, you promised to hear me speak; pray be as good as your Word.  Frump. 
You have liberty to say any thing, so it be to the purpose; and pray remember the perjury Money. Woman, you shall have satisfaction.  Faith. 
Then, let but Chitterlin-Chops, your Man, here, go but with me to a Bawdy-House, and I'll send you your Money due upon the perjury; my Landlady shall have satisfaction, and I'll Mary he Maid. I'll play your Puppy but one hit.  Frump. 
Take your Cloak, Stingey, and go along with the Gentleman; 'tis a case of necessity, and no sin; for we shall lose seven shillings, and six pence, else; consider, Stingey, seven, and six pence, is Money.  Faith. 
Now, I'll see you all burned first, and so take your Course.  Frump. 
Stingey, make his Mittimus; and away with him, Cousin Clout.  Sting. 
I made the Mittimus before, an't like your Worship.  Frump. 
Stingey, make him pay for't, and bring me in my part. Cousin Clout, take care of him; for I'm resolved to hamper him.  Exit Frump. Clout. 
Come along, Sir; once more I charge you in the King's name.  Sting. 
Pray, Sir, pay me for making the Mittimus.  Faith. 
I, Cod's head, come hither— Be a good Husband, and keep this till I come again.  Gives him a box on the Ear. Sting. 
O Lord, how shall I answer this to my Master?  Fells. 
Bring him along; I'll never leave you, till I see him safe.  Exeunt.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Pett, Leftwell, Lovewell, Friendly, Leticia, Fickle, Betty, in a Garden. Pett. 
Gentlemen, I wish your Cheer had been better; but expecting none but my Son Leftwell, I have provided less than I should have done, had I had warning of your good Company.  Love. 
Sir, your Entertainment has been like yourself, most truly generous and Noble.  Left. 
I vow, Father, I have spent a shilling many a time for a dinner, between Moses and I, and have not dined half so well.  Friend. 
This is a very pleasant Garden, Sir; and that row of Trees adds much to the beauty of the House.  Sick. 
Sir, I believe 'twould be very pretty, if the Plot were altered, and the Trees taken down at the end, and a gravel Walk made.  Pett. 
If the Trees were removed to day at thy Request, Niece, to morrow thou wouldst wonder why they were taken down, and be for transplanting them again some where else. I'm confident thou wouldst not like them half an hour in any place; therefore, prithee leave thy prating.  Let. 
I perceive by your humming (Mr. Lovewell) you Sing well, therefore let me engage you to give us a Song, whilst we sit down in yonder Arbour. Nay, I will not be denied; and my Cousin here, in requital, shall give you another.  Left. 
If you love me, honest Ned, do my Mistress that kindness. Come, don't be out of Countenance, Man. Why, there's no harm in singing in Civil Company; is there, Father Pett?  Pett. 
No, truly, Son, I think not.  Love. 
Sir, to serve you and your Lady that must be, I would sing till I had lost my Lungs; but I am so unfitting now. Madam, your Ladyship must undergo the whole brunt of the business.  Left. 
Well, Ned, when we're alone, that word shall be something in thy way, I'll assure thee, take my word for't; he has a Cold, and can't sing. Pray sing you, forsooth.  Love. 
Yes, pray oblige us.  Let. 
Sir, we believe your excuse just, and another time shall serve.  Left. 
Honest Ned, let me tell thee, thou singest as well as any Man in the World, when thou art well; would I were a Woman, for thy sake. Thou art a sweet Rogue. Have a kindness for him, dear Mistress.  Love. 
Ladies, I fear if I had sung, I should have made your Heads ache, for all Mr. Leftwell's Commendations; but let me beg the performance of your promise, Madam.  Let. 
Prithee, let's have the Song you sung to us last night; I like it very well. Come, no excuses, but do it.  To Sick. Sick. 
Since, Madam, there's no way to avoid it, I'll obey your Commands. But I hope, Gentlemen, you'll not be angry with me for making a noise.  Love. 
Pretty Mistress, make an end of the Prologue, and come to the matter.  Song. Let. 
What say you, gentlemans, how do you approve of my Kinswomans' Voice?  Friend. 
As I hope to live, Madam, your Voice would invite me from my Prayers to listen to it, were I sure not to live above half an hour after.  Left. 
P'shaw, waw, wherein is her Voice so good, as to persuade you into an Opinion on't; I have heard a Hogg, when a Mastiff Dog has hung at his Ear, make better Music: I wish her Song were in her guts, so we had one of Ned Lovewells.  Friend. 
Mr. Leftwell, you do her wrong, to say she Sings not well; besides, it calls your Judgement in question.  Left. 
I think I should have as much Judgement in Singing, as another Man, for my Father taught me for two years together; there is not an old Song that ever was made, but I can sing it.  Let. 
Pray, Mr. Leftwell, will you oblige me, and the rest of the Company, with any one you can conveniently spare, now we are in the Singing humour.  Left. 
For thy sake, my Sweet heart that is, and my Wife that must be, I will sing, say, or do any thing.  Friend. 
Pray, Sir, Sing then; she desires you that you would.  Betty. 
O good Sir, let's hear your Song.  Left. 
Not for your sake, Mistress; for you're to be my Maid within these two days; and shall I do any thing at the request of my own Servant? No, I scorn it.  Love. 
But Madam Leticia, your Mistress, and I, your Friend, desire it; pray, Sir, let's live no longer in Expectation.  Leftwell Sings. 

WHen as King Henry Ruled this Land,  
The Second of that Name;  
Besides the Queen, He dearly loved  
A Fair, and Princely Dame.  
Most Peerless was her, etc.   Sick. 
No more of your Ballad; I protest my brains are ready to split: I had rather be tied to a load of Iron, and be drawn after it quite through London, than hear your Servant sing such another Sonner.  Pett. 
You're a foolish Gentle; this was one of the prettyest Songs in London, when I came to Apprentice first. You don't know what a Song is; Sing on, Son.  Leftwell Sings. 

Her Favour, and Her Face:  
A Sweeter Creature in the World  
Did never Prince Embrace.   Let. 
'Tis true, the Song is good, Sir; but Mr. Leftwell's Voice is at present, a little out of Tune; and so if he pleases, we'll have the rest another time.  Left. 
Indeed, I have got a kind of a Cold; but when ever (if thou hast a mind to hear it) 'tis all at thy Service. When we two are a-bed together, I'll lull thee asleep every Night, and wake thee every Morning with my Voice, because I see thou delight'st in it.  Love. 
Without doubt, as much as I do to hear a little Boy beat upon a Bartholomew Drum.  A side. Left. 
Father, I must be forced to take my leave of you; I have a House to Let, in Long-Acre, that calls me away (as a Man may say) Nolens, Volens, from you.  Pett. 
Nay, pray, Sir, stay, and take a small Supper here too; you and your Friends shall be as welcome as I know how to make you; ye shall have a good Bed, and clean Sheets; so much I dare promise you.  Left. 
Nay, if you promised a thousand things, I must go when I have business to do, and there's an end of it; and so, your Servant, Sir. Good b'uy, my Dear; prithee don't take on, I'll be here again to morrow morning. 'Tis to no purpose to grieve, you'll get nothing by that but your labour for your pains, in a manner. Let me entreat you to take this parting partiently.  Let. 
Sir, I'll assure you I'll keep my heart as whole as I can till I see you again.  Pett. 
Gentlemen, your Servant; we'll wait on you to the Door. Sir, I hope you and your Friend will do my Son the kindness, to undergo the Office of Bridemen.  Love. 
Sir, I shall be proud to have the honour of such Services.  Friend. 
Sir, I do equally esteem my happiness with his; and will not fail to pay my due attendance.  Both. 
Your Servant, Sir; may you live long, and happy.  Left. 
Did you see my Man Moses, Mrs. Betty?  Betty. 
Yes; he, and old Ralph, were drunk an hour before Dinner; and are gone to sleep.  Left. 
Pray, when the Rogue wakes, bid him roll home after me.  Exeunt omnes, praeter Betty. Betty. 
Now will I prepare my old Master to Licence my Young Lover to the freedom of Visiting me; by which the whole design can't choose but take effect.  

Assist us, Cupid, for thou knowst 'tis fit  
Beauty, and Youth, should be rewards of wit.   
Finis Actus Tertii.    

Actus Quartus.  

Scena prima.  Enter Lovewell, Friendly. Love. 
FRanck, the Fool comes on as I could wish; h'as sent me a Letter, wherein, he swears he loves me most monstrously: some way we must find out to get more money from him, the better to enable us to cheat him of his Mistress.  Friend. 
My little Madcap swears she'll have me at the same time when you have yours. And if her kindness but continue, I shall believe myself a happy Man; for as I live, I love her infinitely. But prithee let's see Leftwell's Letter.  Love. 
He'll be here presently, he sends me word; but since you love to read a well-penned Letter, this is it, Sir.  Friendly Reads. 
AFter my hearty Commendations, my love remembered unto you, etc. I desire that you would prepare yourself; and get Frank to do the same (viz.) to be my Bridemen; for my Mistress vows she will not have me, unless I can get you to be as good as your word. I would not have you fail me, for five hundred pounds; for if you do, I shall lose a Wife worth ten Thousand. And so I rest  
Your Dutiful Friend, Leftwell.  
Here's an Epistle, with a pox; did ever man see such a Puppy?  Love. 
But now, suppose we should pretend our Chambers were robbed when we went with him to Hackney, of the Money that should have furnished us with Clothes, and necessaries, to have attended at his Wedding. What sayest? Wilt do well?  Friend. 
By this light, nothing like it; is he to meet you here?  Love. 
So the Messenger said.  Friend. 
I'll immediately put myself into a melancholy posture; but I'm afraid thou'lt never counterfeit well.  Love. 
O! feat not that. Hold, here comes the Cuckco— let's seem not to see him.  Enter Leftwell, Moses. They pretend not to see him; but walk discontentedly over the Stage. Left. 
Why Ned! why Frank! why Frank! why Ned! You see I'm not worse than my word. I'm just for Hackney now, the Wedding Clothes are gone before; once more, I beg you not to fail me.  Love. 
I, Sir, would willingly perform what Service my ability can reach to; and so, I'm certain, would Frank here; but—  Left. 
But what? why, what's the matter, Man? Why, thou art grievous Melancholy. Prithee, tell me what's the matter.  Friend. 
Alas, Sir, 'twill but trouble you to hear your Friend's misfortunes.  Love. 
For my part, Sir, I grieve not at my own, I could laugh at them; but that I should fail you, it makes me almost mad.  Left. 
Prithee, dear Ned, tell me what's the matter; I protest, you make tears stand in my eyes: let me know the cause quickly, or I shall cry outright. I would not, I protest, for a thousand pounds, you should fail me; I shall lose such a fortune, I shall never have again.  Love. 
That's the greatest of my grief; that you, my Friend, from whom I have found such favours, should be so great a loser in my ill luck. 'Sdeath, I could kill myself.  Left. 
O, for the love of God, good Gentlemen, as you love me, and as you love your Mistresses, let me know what troubles you; I protest, I'll tear my Periwigg to pieces else. Ned Lovewell, will you tell me or no? or I will tear.  Love. 
Dear Friend, put on your Periwigg; to see you in this passion, adds to my sorrow; and should I tell you now, I know your good nature would lead you to repair our losses, which I hate the very thought of, knowing how far we are already engaged to your Liberality.  Friend. 
The Coxcomb, I find, will be wrought upon. Dear dissimulation, how I love thee!  Aside. Left. 
Never speak of that, man; if Money will make up the matter, ne'er be melancholy; I have just now received two hundred Guineas for the Fines of four Houses.  Love. 
But with what confidence can I do this? Pray, Sir, pardon me.  Left. 
By this hand, either let me know what 'tis that troubles ye, and take my Money to make up the matter, or I'll ne'er come near you more, though I know I shall lose my Mistress by it. I thought you had had more kindness for me, than to hinder me thus of a Fortune; now you have wooed her for me.  Love. 
Well, Sir; since nothing will satisfy you, the case is thus. That day we went with you to Hackney, our Lodgings were broke , and robbed of all our laced Linen, and almost two hundred pounds besides; so that we shall want Money, and all things else, to furnish us to do you Service in that garb we willingly would, had not this strange misfortune hindered our Intentions.  Left. 
P'shaw, and is this all? Look, here's all the Money I have about me: I'll send Moses home for more.  Love. 
Alas, dear Sir, half this will serve; pray pardon me: but since you'll have it so.  Left. 
Why should it not be so? I say, it shall be so. Go home, Moses, fetch the Purse that lies behind the Cabinet. I'll away to Hackney; you'll come on Thursday, before nine a Clock.  Love. 
Sir, we'll be there before you are up, I warrant you. I do assure you I know not what to say, that may in the least make satisfaction for so great a favour.  Friend. 
Sir, I am equally unhappy in the want of words, to express my gratitude.  Left. 
Pugh, I can't Compliment; you have got it, and much good may it do you; and so farewell.  Exit Leftwell. Friend. 
Dear Ned, let me spit in thy Mouth for thy Ingenuity; faith, 'twas very well done.  Love. 
As I live, it went against my Conscience all the while I was about it; and I strangely wonder I went so well through with it, to wheadle a Man out of his Money, and cheat him of his Mistress too; 'tis enough to damn an honest Man to do it, and make a wise Man mad to undergo it.  Friend. 
'Twere honest in no case but this; for this is but easing of a Brute with half a Soul, of a few of his Father's sins; and besides, if we get these Fortunes, we may pay him his Money again. Then, for his Mistress (if she were his, as she's yours) you do a deed of Charity, to preserve her from being bound to a Fool; besides—  Love. 
Enough, enough, Frank; these Reasons are sufficient to resettle my struggling Conscience.  Friend. 
But now, what's to be done, as to the Ladies? they live in expectation of relief from us; and I long to know a way to send it them.  Love. 
I've made Runwell our Agent here; and we shall have by him the Course we are to steer. The Ladies will give full directions by him.  Enter a Messenger. Friend. 
Friend, lies your business with any here?  Mess. 
I have a Letter for one Mr. Lovewell.  Love. 
I am the Man; whence comes it?  Mess. 
The Letter, Sir, will give you satisfaction.  Exit Mes. Friend. 
'Tis Faithful's Character, I think.  Lovewell Reads. 
Dear Ned,  
WHen this Letter finds you, come to my Relief as soon as you can; for I am crammed into a little Room in New Prison, where I am like to be overrun with Lice, and stifled with stinking Tobacco. Tell Frank Friendly, that I was taken upon a Warrant, at the Suit of our Landlady Fells, for Rent; and committed by one Justice Frump: but the Keeper says, he'll let me out upon any Bail; provided, I pay my Fees. So fail not, dear Friend, with all speed, to rescue  
Your Servant, Thomas Faithful.  Friend. 
O that damned Justice! he once committed me, for pissing under his Window.  Love. 
Prithee, Frank, leave prating; and let's haste, to help the poor Rogue.  Friend. 
Was there ever such a Toothless Trot, as this? who the Devil put it into her mind? But let's stay no longer.  Exeunt.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Leticia, Fickle, and Betty. Let. 
Cousin Fickle, there is nothing in the World makes me admire more, than to see thee so long in one mind; that thou shouldst love one Man two days together, is little less than a Miracle.  Sick. 
And nothing but a Miracle can make me miss him, as we have laid the Plot. If they come according to our appointment, we'll be Married two hours before my Uncle, and the intended Bridegroom, are awake; but should I miss him to Morrow, I'd have him the next place I meet him in. My Uncle cannot hinder me, though he may you; nor shall, from marrying any Man that I affect.  Let. 
O Coz, that I were but in thy Condition; and as free from the fear of a Father! but I Vow, my heart gins to fail me; if we play this trick to Morrow, when he misses us, he'll certainly run stark mad; and turn me off, without a penny Portion.  Sick. 
Dear Girl, fear not that; he may be angry for a Month, or so, but no longer; for he has never another Child. Nature will engage him to come about again, and give thee all; he'll be as kind as ever, never fear it. However, wilt thou weigh thy Father's anger, in comparison, with the loss of gentile Mr. Lovewell? Let me die, if I am not ashmed to see thee have such idle fears.  Let. 
The Scene is strangely altered; when thou comest to counsel any body to Love and Constancy; but Coz, dost think thou canst continue this humour, till to Morrow?  Sick. 
Leave your tattling; for I question your resolution more than you need mine; I could find in my heart not to let you go to Bed to Night, lest you should lie too long in the Morning.  Let. 
Nay, I will never be outdone by thee, in point of promise; I will be up, and ready to meet him; go, and be immediately Married to him, though I turn Seamstress for my Living. Therefore come along, Girl.  Sick. 
Said like thyself, sweet Coz; if it be done to Morrow, we'll laugh one Day, let what will follow.  Let. 
Have you fully instructed Betty, that she may satisfy Mr. Lovewells Man, the time and place they are to meet us in? You know I left all that to your care: has she the Letter for him?  Sick. 
To th' full, fear not: let's in, and put our Jewels up; for if the Old Man proves unkind, they may stand thy Friends; I'm sure he must pay me my Portion.  Ex. ambo. Enter Runwell. Betty. 
Mr. Runwell, I have got such a bundle of business here will make you mad to carry it, and your Master mad with joy to hear it. Tell him, and Mr. Friendly, that the Ladies desire their Companies by four a Clock to morrow Morning, at the corner of our back-gate, with a Coach. But here's two Letters, which if you give your Masters, will save you the trouble of telling a long Story. So pray be careful, and farewell.  Run. 
Mrs. Betty, Mrs. Betty; unless you pity me, my Master has utterly undone me.  Betty. 
Why, what's the matter, man?  Run. 
Here he has set me to woo in jest, and I'm in love in earnest. Unless you think you can love me, I am bound to wish I had never seen you; for I find in myself I cannot live without you.  Betty. 
O, if that be all, leave it to me; and as I find your care in your Masters concerns, so you shall find my love towards you, if you are in earnest. Far you well, Sir.  Exit. Run. 
This is short, and sweet; it savours something of kindness: but what I should do with a Wife if I had one, I can no more tell, than a Tailor knows how to make a Horse-shoe. And yet I love this little Rogue so well, that I must have her, though Ruin were sure to follow: however I hope my Master, when he has got his Mistress, will help us out at a dead lift. But I must make haste.  Exit.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Pett, Ralph, and Betty. Pett. 
Ho! where are you Ralph? is the Cook come?  Ralph. 
Yes, Sir.  Pett. 
Bid him come to me; Betty, do you get Mrs. Snuff, the Housekeeper, to make the Wedding Bed, she knows what belongs to such matters; and look that the Hang in the Matted Room be brushed down, and the Charwoman rub the rest of the Rooms. Let every thing be done in Order.  Enter Cook. 
Pray, Mr. Lard, look that every thing you undertake be done decently; spare for no cost, but call for every thing you want. I would not be niggardly at the Wedding of my only Child. Has Mr. Plume, the Poulterer, sent the Crammed Capons, the tame Pigeons, and the Partridges. And, Betty, step to the Butler, and see whether he has Botteled the two Tearces of Claret, and the half Pipe of Canary. Pray look about you, and let every thing be done that may adorn the House.  Cook. 
Sir, let me have but Meat enough, and things convenient to carry on the work of the day, if I don't lick my fingers after the French Mode, and make sauce as well as any Man of my Profession, let me be put into Piecrust, and sent a Sacrifice to the unappeased Stomaches of unsatiate Servingmen.  Betty. 
Sir, I'll see that every thing be ready to your satisfaction, as far as I'm concerned, and look that the Bride be dressed before Eight of the Clock, or the Cook shall cut me into Steaks and Stew me.  Pett. 
God-a-mercy, good Girl; get thee about thy business then, for thou hast a great deal to do.  Exit Betty. 
Mr. Lard, question not but you shall have every thing, to furnish out a Feast for the Entertainment of a King. Command what's necessary for the Kitchin.  Cook. 
Let me alone, then; I'll warrant your Worship.  Exit. Enter Leftwell. Left. 
Good Morrow, Father; pray, how does your Head?  Pett. 
Very well, Son; pray, why do you ask?  Left. 
Only to be satisfied, Sir, because mine aches, and turns round, as if 'twere about to look for another seat, and would take leave of my shoulders; why, there is not a pair of hands in the House but what's in motion, to make as much noise as they can; all the great Guns in a Sea-fight sing triple, in comparison of the Thundering base that Reigns in every Room here. Pray, Sir, what's your design in this? Do you intent to make me mad before I'm Married?  Pett. 
No, Sir; but I have a design to have my House set in Order, and to make provision for those that shall entertain you and your Bride to Morrow; and do you think this can be done without noises? I warrant you would have had the Victuals sent to the next door to be dressed, and so brought through the Street to the Table. Pray, Son, if the noise be so troublesome to you, let you and I go to the backside of the House, and play a game at Tables; are you for Irish, or Back-gammon?  Left. 
No, Sir, I have sworn never to throw a die more, though I have played at Dublits, and losing Lodum, before now; but I have quite left off Gaming. I care not, if I go up stairs, and see my Mistress; A Man goes in danger of his life here below: I, by chance, looked but into the Kitchen, and one of the Cooks took me for a Calf, I believe; and in spite of my teeth would needs spit me. Then my shins have been broke three times to day, by straggling Stools that stepped out of the places they stood in this seven years, and lay now where I never looked for 'em. I had like to have had my face washed too, by the Fellow that cleans the Wainscoat; his Cloth was within an ace of my Nose.  Pett. 
Well, Son, there is no help for these things; but since you have made choice of your Mistress for your Protectress, you may find her, and my Niece Fickle, together at the Chamber at the end of the long Gallery.  Exeunt severally.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Lovewell, Friendly, Faithful, Squeeze the Gaoler, as in a Prison. Love. 
How now, Tom, Revelling?  Faith. 
O, are you come? By your favour, fellow Prisoners, I must spoil the Dance.  Friend. 
Garry this Crown to the poor Prisoners; farewell, Friend. Are you fully satisfied?  Squeeze. 
He is discharged, and may go when he pleases.  Friend. 
Lord, Ned, how this Fellow looks! Let me see, what does he look like?  Love. 
Why, faith, he looks like a poor Whore, turned out of an Inns of Court, half drunk, at four a Clock in the Morning.  Friend. 
Or like a Gipsy, that has been let down a Chimney, and drawn up again with a Gammon of Bacon at her Breech.  Faith. 
Why, Gentlemen, had you been where I was, it would have made you look a little uglier than ordinary.  Love. 
If thou wert but a little uglier than ordinary, as thou sayest, a man might endure to look on thee, Tom; but, as I live, thy Face looks just of the colour of a Red-herring, and thy hands like a Sailors, that have been steeped two days in Tarr and Tallow. And any body will swear, by thy Linen, thou hast robbed a French Lackey.  Friend. 
This Fellow stinks so of Tobacco, that there is no way to make him smell sweet, and look like a man, but to take him down to the Thames, and have him drawn twice, or thrice, cross the Water at the tail of a Sculler.  Faith. 
Say you so, Signior Snout? if you ben't smoak-dryed in the same place before you have washed your Hands for to morrow's Dinner, I'll be bound to hang for you.  Friend. 
Why, was there ever such a simple sot as thou art? To have money in thy pocket, and be sent to Prison for fourteen shillings: Why the Devil did you not pay it? but it may be you had a mind to see the Lodging you must last live in.  Love. 
If you had given her the money, she had no more to do with you; one would imagine you want brains as well as money; but perhaps 've a fancy to be lousy: But we'll let that pass. Look, here's more money, Tom.  Faith. 
What, from the same hand, Lads?  Friend. 
This is nothing; there is that in hand will make us all happy:  Faith. 
If that which is in hand won't, I don't know what will: come, what designs have you, let me know all?  Friend. 
Come, we'll trust you for once; we two are to be married to morrow to two of the greatest Beauties and Fortunes within twenty miles.  Enter Runwell. Faith. 
Where, and to whom, dear Rogues, tantalise me no longer?  Love. 
Faith, Tom, I don't know yet myself; but here comes one, I believe, will better inform me; what news, Runwell?  Run. 
Sir, I must have leave to take breath, before I can tell my tale; you must be by four a Clock to morrow morning, and Mr. Friendly with you, at the Corner— But here's a Letter will fully inform you; and here's one for you, Sir.  Love. 
By this hand, Frank, I'm afraid to look into mine, lest there should be less in it than I expected.  Friend. 
I'm under the same sense of fear; prithee, Ned, open thine, and put me out of pain.  Love. 
'Tis better to know a man's Fate, than fear it: I'll venture.  Reads. 
SIR,  
BE sure you fail not to meet me, and Mr. Friendly my Cousin Fickle, at the Corner of our Garden in the green Meadow, about four of the Clock to Morrow Morning: Provide your Parson ready at some Church in London, that may do the business, without delay. My Cousin is as well resolved for Mr. Friendly, as I am for you.  
Your Servant, L. P.  
Postscript.  
Pray send back your Man, that he may be with Betty; so if the business should fail, he may be able to help us.  Love. 
Mine is, Frank, as I could wish; how sounds thine?  Friend. 
There's all the harmony of love in't; but Ned, what shall we do for a Levite?  Faith. 
Leave that to me; I'll provide Old Legit, the Reader, who is in Orders, and will do the business as fast as a Bishop, and tie you together to Eternity. And I can borrow the Keys of the Sexton of St. Giles' for less than five shillings, and a full Flagon of mild Beer. Therefore bear up, Boys.  Love. 
You're sure you can do this; if you fail us, we're all undone.  Friend. 
Consider, Tom, our business is your own; for as the case stands with us, so it does with you; either happy, or miserable.  Faith. 
Trouble yourself no further; if I fail, one of you shall have my Ears, and t'other my eyes. So farewel, Friends; I'll about it instantly.  Exit Faithful. Love. 
Run you back to Betty, and stay there till you hear from me.  Run. 
I fly, Sir.  Exit Runwell. Love. 
Frank, go you and provide the Coach, and I'll make every thing else ready: meet me to night at the Devil Tavern, there we'll stay till two a Clock, and so set forward.  Friend. 
I'll not fail.  Exeunt.  

Scena quinta.  Enter Leftwell, Leticia, Fickle, Betty. Let. 
I should take it very kindly, Mr. Leftwell, if you would go now, and give me leave to go to bed.  Sick. 
Your Bride will never get up to morrow morning to be married, if you keep her up so late to night. Pray, Mr. Leftwell, leave us.  Left. 
I won't go till I please: mayn't I do what I will, if I have a mind to't, with my own Wife? I believe my Father would give me leave to lie with her to night, if I asked it.  Betty. 
What, before you are married? That would be a sight worth seeing indeed. I'faith, if you won't go down, Mr. Leftwell, I shall make bold to beat you down with the Bed-staffs: What, I'm sure my Old Master did not send you up to day at Noon, to see us a bed. Will you be gone, and give my Mistress leave to go to Bed? I shall beat you down with the Bedstaff else.  Let. 
hold Betty, don't beat him, we'll persuade him civilly. Pray, Mr. Leftwell, be Civil, and do not undertake to stay longer, where it cannot be allowed of with modesty.  Sick. 
Lord, Sir, is your Stomach so great, that you can't stay till to morrow Night, and so take lawful Possession? but press in in an illegal manner into a place a day before you have a privilege. I assure you, the World will think you want wit strangely in attempting it.  Left. 
Well, if I don't go down, and do your Etrand to my Father, Mistress', let me live lousy, and die upon a Dunghill. For your part, I shall turn you out of Service to Morrow To Betty. night, like a saucy Slut as you are. And I'll beat your sweetheart, till his bones rattle in his skin: I swear by my Sword, I'll squeeze him like a Turnip between two Trenchers; and there's a word for all.  Exit Leftwell. Let. 
Now he's gone, let's not trouble ourselves to talk of him, but make provision for the Morning's Adventure. 'Tis now almost twelve, and you know they'll be at the back-gate by four a Clock in the Morning; and should we spend that time idly, 'tis ten to one, but it may bring us to repentance, by unkindly failing our Gallants. Therefore let's fall to packing up those little things we have, to help us in necessity; then sleep an hour or two.  Sick. 
I protest, I'll not go to Bed for all the World; if I do, I shall certainly lose my Lover, I always wake so late a mornings. But if Betty will sit up, and promise to wake us, we'll lie down in our Night-Gowns till that time.  Betty. 
With all my heart, Madam; I'm an errand Slut, if I would not, to promote this business, sit six days, and as many nights, up to the Chin in Water, this cold Wether. For I have such a Faith in both the Gentlemen, that I am very confident they'll make you happy.  Let. 
Betty, thou shalt not fail to share in my good fortune; and now go to your own Chamber, and be sure to call us in time. You know what you have to do; stay behind with Runwell, and be the first that misses me; and do it with all the passion imaginable; so you'll be unsuspected.  Betty. 
Madam, I had rather punish myself in being absent from you (since 'tis your command) than be wanting in any Service I may possibly do you.  Let. 
That's my good Girl; but let me kiss thee first for good luck's sake.  Betty. 
Good night, good Ladies.  Exit Betty. Let. 
Now, Cousin, we're alone, what's to be done?  Sick. 
Let's sleep two hours, and rise before the Sun.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus quarti.    

Actus Quintus.  

Scena prima.  Enter Lovewell, and Friendly. Friend. 
COachman, stay you there, stir not till we come back. 'Tis devilish dark, Ned; not so much as a Star stirring.  Love. 
And cruel cold, Frank; if my love waned very hot, 'twould ne'er hold out the battery of this bitter Morning. If the poor Ladies are abroad, I'm sorry for them, I fear it bites them severely. Prithee where art? canst thou not keep close?  Friend. 
Why, I am by you here; but know not in what place.  Love. 
Faith, I thought I smelled you; but come nearer, I'll be a little unkind to my Nose, and keep you Company at present, for want of a sweeter. But hold, I think, we're near the place appointed: prithee, come up; is not that the Garden Wall?  Friend. 
You may as well persuade a blind man to do you the kindness, to draw your Picture, as to ask my opinion now; for I can no more see thy hand, than I can my own face; nor canst thou see any thing, unless thou hast changed eyes with a Cat. But hark, I hear some body, and see a light yonder.  Enter the other way, Leticia, Fickle, and Betty. Betty. 
Cupid be kind to you, and lend you a lantern, 'tis cruel dark: good Ladies, keep your Gowns close about you, for I fear youl'le catch cold.  Sick. 
Faith, Cousin, I'm afraid to stir; would they were come, I have got the Cramp in every one of my fingers, with cold; if I stay here but half an hour, I shall be fit for burying than Marriage: I'm afraid I shall lose the finger the Parson is to put the Ring on. Pray Betty, which finger is that?  Betty. 
Faith, Madam, I don't know.  Sick. 
Nor I; if I did, I would be sure to keep that from the cold. Cousin Let. thou look'st so pitifully, for want of thy Morning's Posset, that, o'my Conscience, I could cry for thee. Give me thy hand, where is it, Girl? Take comfort, I warrant they come.  Let. 
I dare swear 'tis they; let's go a little nearer.  Friend. 
Art sure there's never a Ditch in the way? Would we had the Women, and were well in the Coach again: But give me thy hand, and I'll go with thee.  Let. 
I vow, Cousin, my courage was almost cold; but to see thee so confident in thy sufferings, or indeed, to do thee Justice, so constant; I now believe it a mere shame to come short of thee. Whatever happens, I'm resolved to stay here till they come, not to be unfixed in my Resolutions.  Betty. 
Poor Mistress, I should question the Justice of the gods, should they forget to be your Friends, and fail to help you; nay, I should think they had forgot to further goodness, if they should let you be a loser, in prosecution of so pure a love.  Sick. 
Never fear, Betty, we'll through now, though froward Fate had sworn to set a stop to it. But hark, I hear the steps of some body: would I knew who they were; it startles me.  Let. 
O, Coz, now thou art faint-hearted again; 'tis nothing but the leaves of the Trees that hang over the Garden Wall. Let's walk a little further forwards.  Friend. 
There's a Candle, Lovewell; let's look a little nearer: stay, is not that Leticia?  Love. 
And I am monstrously mistaken, if that bened thy Mistress, and Betty that holds the light; look, they come nearer.  Sick. 
I think I heard some body say, Leticia: and I begin to lose my fear, and will look a little further. Betty, light hither a little.  The Candle goes out. Betty. 
O Lord, Madam, the Candle's out, I'm undone. I shall never find the way back to the Gate upon the Causeway.  They come up to them in the dark. Love. 
Madam, Leticia, Lady; here's no body answers. Frank, art sure 'twas they?  Friend. 
No, it may be we saw Angels in their shapes; 'twas either the one, or the other, I can assure you.  Let. 
No, my dear Lovewell; 'tis too late to keep at distance, when there lacks so little time to make us one; here's she that loves thee; and if Heaven were pleased to lend us light, would joy to look on thee.  Love. 
Sweetest Leticia, why art thou shrouded in this sheet of darkness, that aught to fear, and fly from such a Face, though it presumes on all the earth besides? Speak but once more, that I may find thee by thy Voice; since my eyes are unserviceable.  Friend. 
Ned, Ned, have you found your Mistress? If you have, lend me your hand to find mine; for I dare as well be hanged, as stir a foot further than the place I'm in: I'm just now up to the belly in the Horse-pond.  Let. 
Hold, Mr. Lovewell, let me call her: Coz, Coz.  Sick. 
Lord, where are you? I hear Mr. Friendly make sad complaints, but I protest I don't know where to find him. Are you hereabouts, Cousin?  Let. 
I, where is your hand?  Sick. 
Here, and here's Betty's; I am glad I have found you: Mr. Lovewell, your Servant; if you would speak, I should be glad to hear you, for I protest, I cannot see you.  Love. 
Madam, your most humble Servant; I would Frank Friendly were as near you as I am: poor Rogue, he lies poring up and down in the dark for you; Frank, Franck.  Friend. 
Here, here, at hand; is my dear Mistress near thereabouts?  Love. 
She's here, with Madam Let. and Betty. Thou art the only lost Sheep of the Company; here, have a care, thou wilt blunder over some body; prithee, be careful, take me by the hand.  Friend. 
I should be happy if I had it; hold, is not this it.  Love. 
What do you think?  Friend. 
Faith, I don't know very well; but I'll feel for the Roman T. that will satisfy me the truth on't.  Love. 
One would have thought the spirit of Jokeing had been drenched out of you in the Horse-pond; but here's the hand of your fair Mistress.  Friend. 
I, here's a hand indeed, makes me forget all wet and cold, and fear of future Storms.  Sick. 
But if you stay much longer here in your wet Breeches, you'll remember wet and cold again, in spite of your Antidote; and I'm so wet with dew, that unless you make haste, I shall die before I'm Married; and so be put upon ugly work in the other World; you have heard the Proverb: and besides, you will lose my Portion, which is no poor one.  Let. 
Prithee, dear Coz, let's stand no longer in the cold tattling of Estates, but haste to the Coach; have you brought one?  Love. 
I, and four Horses, that will hurry us to London; and a Levite that will do the business: we shall be there by five a Clock.  Sick. 
I, but we shall not get into the Church so soon.  Love. 
The Sexton has provided a Bottle of Wine, and some other things, for your diversion, till seven a Clock, at which time you will be missed here, and the work will be doing there.  Let. 
Let's away to the Coach then. Betty, 'tis something lighter now, you may easily find the way back; and be sure you remember your instructions, you know where to send to me; so far thee well, good Girl.  Betty, 
I vow, Madam, I must weep at parting, though you are going about to do that business I have always wished you; but assure your Ladyships, I'll serve you both to the utmost of my power; and so the god of Love preserve and prosper your proceed.  Love. 
Friend. Pretty Mrs. Betty, your Servants.  Ex. omnes.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Gammer Fells, Clout, and Mold the Sexton. Fells. 
I charge you, Neighbour Mold, make a Confession before Mr. Clout, the King's Constable, of what you told me last Night, as you and I sat in the Chimney Corner at my House, drinking a dram or two of Brandy; by the same token, you took the Bottle out of my hand, whilst I did something; but that's no matter.  Clout. 
Neighbour Mold, discharge the part of a good Christian, and clear your Conscience, by making your Confession to a Constable of the Kings; who is a Member of State. Indeed you may object, though I am one of the King's Constables, you are one of his Sextons too; true, it is so; and that is in part satisfaction: for it is unnatural for one Member to persecute another: so, if the business were only 'twixt you and I, 'twere easily made up. But here's my Neighbour Fells, truly, a Woman that understands the World, has been wickedly dealt with, has a great deal of Money due to her, and much linen worn out; has lain long in wait for one of the Men, that she says, nay, she swears, Neighbour Mold, you told her was to come to your House this Morning, from thence to go to Church to be Married. Therefore I command you in the King's Name to speak the truth.  Fells. 
Or else I'll have a Petition, to have you before Justice Frump.  Clout. 
How, a Petition, Gammer Fells? you have forgot all your Law, as if you had never had any. A Suppina, Woman, a Suppina; that's the only way. A Petition? I cannot forbear laughing; I tell you, you cannot do it any other way, but by a Suppina. Ha', Gammer Fells, you have not so good a Head-piece as you had formerly. Well, well; Age, Age.  Enter Lovewell, Friendly, Leticia, and Fickle. Love. 
Now, my dear Mistress, we are safe from all our fears; this is the Sexton's House, there we'll repose a little, then to Church.  Fells. 
Are you come, i'faith, Sir; Seize on him, Mr. Constable, in the King's Name; this is the other Rogue, that owed me Money, and forswore himself. Come, bring them all away: for, Mr. Clout, if one body in a Company be perjured, all the rest are guilty, and must stand in the Pillory with him.  Clout. 
Gammer Fells, 'tis very true, you're in the right in that case; so I command you all, in the King's Name, to come away with me.  Love. 
Mistress, if any body here owes you any thing, I'll pay you presently five times as much, if that will be any satisfaction; pray, put us to no trouble, for we're about earnest business.  Fells. 
You say honestly, Sir; pray be as good as your word, and let me have but thirty shillings, and I'll discharge you; for I love a Gentleman, as I do my life.  Love. 
Here's your Money; so far you well.  Clout. 
Hold, Sir, hold; how shall I be discharged by the King for the perjury? You must go fore Justice Frump, and stand the Trial.  Love. 
Why, who in the Company is perjured? Pray, Mr. Constable, bened so impertinent, but let us go about our business.  Clout. 
Why, that is that Gentleman; and you being in his Company, are, with all the rest, equally concerned. So I command you come away, in the King's Name.  Fells. 
That's true indeed, the perjury is not discharged; bring them away, there's no remedy; I would it were in my power to do you any good: Come, Neighbour Clout, bring 'em along; I'm afraid you'll lie by't.  Love. 
I'll not go along with you, not shall any of the Company. This Old Bawd has cozened me of some Money, and I believe you intent to cheat me of more.  Clout. 
Offer to draw, I'll knock down your Wench here; will you come on quietly, in the King's Name?  Friend. 
Mr. Constable, here's five pounds, let us but pass now; and we'll promise to meet you to Morrow Morning.  Fells. 
I wish he would, i'faith; if he takes it, I shall tell Justice Frump, and see how he'll take it; perhaps he'll cheat the King too. Come, come, Mr. Clout, the Law lies not in your Hands; if I live, I'll see 'em laid up; and if you don't look to your Office, look to yourself; shall People be perjured, and go unpunished?  Let. 
Why, good Woman, what are you concerned? your debt is satisfied.  Fells. 
Is it so, Goody Gillyflurt, with your face full of patches? you shall know that I am not satisfied; 'tis such as you make poor Men they can't pay their Debts: where have they picked up you and that Puppet, your Companion? I'll have you where you shall give an account of yourselves, and what business you have with these Men.  Love. 
You abominable old Bawd, I'll kick you, till you curse your own Blaspheming tongue.  Clout. 
How? Do you kick an Ancient Housekeeper before the face of me the King's Constable? Sir, I would have you to know, you have forfeited your foot by the Laws of the Land, therefore look to't. Neighbour Mold, I command you in the King's Name to assist me; have a good heart, Gammer Fells, I'll see you satisfied. Come on, Sir.  Friend. 
Ned, we're utterly undone if we go before the Justice, for he'll be sure to commit us, right, or wrong, if it be but to get his Man Money for the Mittimus; of which he himself has the largest shate.  Love. 
I don't know what to do. Mr. Constable, will nothing satisfy you, unless we go before the Justice; you would do us a favour, if you would take our words till to Morrow; and hark you, Sir, here's five pounds to buy your Wife a Ring.  Clout. 
I protest, Sir, I would do it, though you had killed my Father, for so much Money; but Gammer Fells will have a fling at my Plumb-Tree, and utterly undo me, therefore I cannot do it: Pray, Sir, come along.  Friend. 
Pray, Mr. Constable, will you allow the Lady's liberty to go to a Friends House, whilst we go to the Justice's.  Fells. 
The Ladies, with a Murrain; no, Sir, they shall go with you, and see how they like lying in a Gaol. Captain Clout, come along, I'll lead the way, therefore look to the Prisoners.  Love. 
Well, there's no remedy; Ladies, don't be dejected though; Justice must discharge us.  Sick. 
I don't care if the deed be done before my Uncle hears of it. You may go; Mr. Constable, we'll follow you.  Exeunt, The Scene altars. Enter again, at Frump's House. Love. 
Mr. Constable, if you design our March much further, pray let's have a Coach, for the Ladies are not used to foot it so far.  Clout. 
This is the House, Sir; pray be patiented, I'll have you no further.  Enter Stingey. Sting. 
Good Morrow, Mr. Clout; I suppose, by the people you have brought with you, your business is to my Master; I'll step in, and call him; Mr. Clout, in the mean time, pray be careful of the Prisoners.  Friend. 
What peaking Puppy's this, that looks as if he quartered with a Chameleon, and eat nothing but Air?  Love. 
By this light, he looks like one that was got by a Beggar, and has lived ever since lousy. But who's this that looks so like a Knight Templar, with his Chops muffled?  Enter Frump. Frump. 
Stingey, the Speech I have been getting by heart these ten days will now do me a kindness to this Company; therefore do you hold the Paper, whilst I speak; if I chance to be out, you may put me in with a whisper, and pretend business; for it is excellent good, and well penned by a Counsel learned in the Law; and now I'll begin. Hum, ha'. Gentlemen, I know not what you are, nor from whence you come; you may be this, or you may be that. But for this or that, it is no matter.  Fells. 
How, an't like your Worship, no matter? your Worship shall know that the matter is considerable, both to the King, and to yourself, for all these People are perjured; and you know by that there's many a penny coming in. And they came from Hackney, and these Wenches belong to Mr. Pett, of the same Town; and I have sent him word of it, and he'll be here presently, I presume, under favour of your good Worship.  Frump. 
Woman, hold your prating, or I protest, I'll set you into the Stocks; would her tongue were out, she has put me quite besides my Speech; where abouts was I, Stingey?  Sting. 
Why, you were at, But for this, or that, it is no matter.  Frump. 
Then, gentlemans, But for this, or that, it is no matter; as I was saying before. You know the time of a Justice of Peace is precious, an Ancient Author says, concerning the life and living of Justices; who says, their labour is much, and their care great: therefore I command you, gentlemans, and Gentlewomen, that you do not weary me with long Circumstances, to unsettle my head, but I pray be satisfied, and submit to Justice; for your offences are of a fearful— What's next, Stingey?  Sting. 
Consequence.  Frump. 
Of a fearful Consequence; and indeed, most crying Crimes, as the learned Felton says, Libera nos Domine. But let him say what he will, he was a Justice; I am one, and have in this House the King's Commission that made me so.  Love. 
I believe your Worship's a little mistaken; sure, Sir, Mr. Felton was a Parson, and not a Justice.  Frump. 
Come, come, let me tell you, there is no difference between 'em, learn that from me. You're a Young Man, & have not seen so much of the World as some have. But, as I was saying before, I am a Justice, and have the King's Commission for it.  Enter Pett, and Leftwell. Pett. 
Justice Frump, your Servant; I'm glad to see you, Sir, and have made haste to do it. Gentlemen, you have done kindly by me, I'm beholding to you; so is my Son Leftwell here. For your parts, Gentlewomen, you shall along with me again. Good Woman, come and Dine with me on Sunday, I'll give you satisfaction for your care. Hereafter I shall watch you both a little better.  Fells. 
You are an honest Gentleman, Sir, and I'll be sure to come according to my promise; I'm glad that it came into my heart to hinder these sweet pretty Gentlewoman's marriage with these beggarly Fellows.  Left. 
Beggarly enough a Conscience, good Woman; they were not so well clad as Adam in Paradise, before I lent 'em Money to make 'em Clothes; no, not so much as Figg-leaves, Gammer Fells: and these wretched Rascals, to reward me, come betimes in the Morning, and run away with my Mistress, just when I should have married her; no Devils would have done so.  Fells. 
O wicked Knaves; I warrant you, Sir, Justice Frump will give them their Reward for it; to go to cheat such a pretty, sweet-faced, likely, hopeful, young Gentleman as you are.  Pett. 
Mr. Justice, your Servant. Daughter, and Niece, you have deceived me once; but if ever you put such a trick upon me again, I'll forgive you.  Frump. 
Mr. Pett, I should be glad, if the Law would give me leave, to let your Relations go; but they are equally concerned with these Gentlemen, and must go with them to New Prison: 'tis pity, because they are pretty Maids; but Justice must not be stifled.  Love. 
Gammer Fells, we'll give you ten shillings, if you'll say you mistook the Man; and that this is not he: you will get nothing by keeping of us, nor will Mr. Pett know how to get off his Daughter and Cousin; so you'll lose your reward there too.  Fells. 
I'faith I'll do't, for I love a Gentleman as I do my life.  Pett. 
Sir, I'll be bound to save you harmless; and I'll stay at my London House this Month, where you may send for me at any time: and here's ten shillings for your Clerk.  Frump. 
There is five for me.  Aside. Fells. 
Sir, your Worship, I protest, I mistook the Man, this is none of him, I thought it was; and unless you set them all free, I'm undone; they'll sue me, they say, till I have not a groat left to help myself: Good, your Worship, consider a poor Woman.  Frump. 
Gammer Fells, if you say so, I must discharge them; provided, they gratify my Clerk, which is a thing common.  Friend. 
O, Sir, most willingly; there's ten shillings for him.  Pett. 
Well, Mr. Justice, if they are discharged, I hope these are so too. Far you well. Gentlemen, pray let me see you no more near my House.  Left. 
By my Sword, if I see you near the House again, I'll kick you both upon the place I first meet you, though it be a thousand Miles off. So good b'uy, honest Friends, good b'uy.  Exeunt omnes, praeter Love. Friend. Love. 
That this blundering Fellow should tell the Sexton our names, and the names of the Ladies, and the place from whence they came.  Friend. 
There was no other way in the World, to bring all out, and utterly ruin us; we are utterly undone, Ned; and I do believe 'tis impossible ever to bring it about again. Here comes the Coxcomb.  Enter Faithful. Faith. 
What a pox is your meaning? Always playing the Fool thus, to send me to get a Parson, and provide every thing, and then never come: Indeed 'tis like you; I kept my Levite in the Church from four a Clock in the Morning, till 'twas nine, that he swore he was almost starved.  Friend. 
You have done us good Service; if you had your reward, your ears ought to be cut, for the mighty care you took in our concerns; Indeed, you should have satisfaction.  Love. 
Indeed, Thomas, you have undergone a great deal, and done more by half then we could have desired you. If the Devil himself had given you directions, you could not possibly have made us so miserable.  Friend. 
Pray tell us seriously, what have we done to you, that should provoke you to ruin us in this damnable manner? Is it your custom, pray, to betray your Friends in the drinking two Pots of Ale? Lord, Sir, how you look about you, as if you had lost your way in a Wilderness. I'll warrant you don't know what you have done, now.  Love. 
Not he, I'll warrant, 'twas done in his sleep; does he not use to walk, Frank; you have lain with him? By this light, I take him to be so honesty that he would not do such a thing waking. Were't not asleep, Tom, when thou told'st all?  Faith. 
Gentlemen, you have been very free, both in your Examinations, and your Accusations, and yet I have said nothing; pray will you give me leave to speak.  Friend. 
I; pray, what would you say?  Faith. 
Why, I say, I'll be hanged if this be any thing but a design to stop my mouth, and keep me from quarrelling with you, about the abuse you put upon me, to make me stay in the Church starving in the cold with a great greasy Parson.  Love. 
No, no, Thomas, you are monstrously mistaken; for if that were all, you know we're well enough able to deal with you; we can soon knock you down with words. But pray let me ask you one thing: How many Pots of mild Beer did you and Mr. Mold drink before you came to the matter; I mean, before you made the discovery of my Name, and Frank Friendly's, and both the Ladies, and from whence they came?  Friend. 
And pray let's know why you did it, and what you got by doing of it; and whether the Devil be yet out of you, that was in you when you went about it; pray be pleased to speak: what, are you tongue-tied? Don't gape, but speak, Man.  Faith. 
Well, and what hurt did this do you?  Love. 
It has only ruined us, that's all. But why the Devil should you make a confident of an old sottish Fellow, that is not satisfied with cheating the living, but dead too; sure you might have done your business without giving him a particular of our Names.  Faith. 
Pray, Gentlemen, how has this undone you, let me but know the meaning on't?  Friend. 
Why, the Sexton overjoyed with the Money you had given him, and happy that he had news to carry to his Neighbours, went straight to Mother Fells (living hard by) and being drunk with her, told her I was one of the Persons concerned; she straight gets a Warrant, and stays at the Sextons, takes him and me, and both the Ladies; sends home word to old Pett, who, whilst we were at your Justices, fetches them both away. Now, you have heard your Crime to the full, pray what have you (with a pox) to say for yourself?  Love. 
Faith, Tom, I don't know what satisfaction you can give us; unless you will consent that we should cut your throat.  Faith. 
I, for Heaven's sake do it quickly; I acknowledge I deserve it, pray dispatch, I hate to live one minute after I have been so great a Brute, to betray my Friend by folly; I was cursed.  Friend. 
Prithee Coxcomb, leave raving, and let's see what may be done to bring all about again; for being sure of the Ladies, our case is not yet desperate, they are now at their London House; the Scene lies something nearer than it did.  Faith. 
To make you some part of satisfaction, I'll go and kill Leftwell.  Love. 
Now he talks of killing Leftwell, I've a design in my head, may hap to do us good.  Friend. 
Prithee, what is it?  Love. 
Why, Faithful shall send Leftwell a Challenge, and in it, unless he meet, threaten to Pistol him, and write to me to be his Second; and then— hark— what dost think of this, boy?  They Whisper. Friend. 
Faith, Ned, I think— Pray, Sir, be quiet, we'll not have a thought of yours in the business. Ned, this would do rarely, if we could find a way to let the Ladies know on't; how must that be done?  Faith. 
Why, I'll tell you how.  Friend. 
Prithee, good muddy brains, if thou wouldst hold thy prating, and say, nor do any more than you have directions from us, things may be carried on well enough.  Faith. 
If a Man commits but one fault in his life, he shall be sure to hear on'nt; pray, proceed then, and let it be purely your own, and be poxed.  Friend. 
How shall they know our intentions?  Love. 
Why, I expect Runwell every minute, who will not fail to do it dextrously.  Enter Runwell. Friend. 
See where he comes.  Run. 
The poor Ladies, Sir, are utterly undone if you can find no way to relieve them; Madam Leticia is to morrow Morning to be Married to this Looby Leftwell.  Love. 
Runwell, come in with me, I'll send a Letter to her of one design more, which I hope will take; Thomas, pray provide us one Parson more presently.  Faith. 
I'll warrant you; if I don't, let me die for't.  Friend. 
But have a care of Carousing again with the Sexton. Ned, you and I'll go write the Challenge, and the Letter; for the Pincipal has forgot to read; but however, I'm sure he can't write.  Faith. 
My last fault makes me at present a little liable to the lash of your ugly tongue; but I'll let you alone till the business is done, and then have at you.  Aside. 
So god b'uy, I'll go find out my Doctor.  Both. 
Pray do.  Exeunt omnes, severally.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Leticia, Fickle, and Betty. Let. 
Was ever such an unhappy Accident as we have met withal, to ruin our intention: If there be a god of Love, he has very little kindness for us; dear Cousin, what shall we do?  Sick. 
pretend thyself sick, and so avoid it; I protest, were it my case (as it is thine) I would rather die, than have Leftwell, he looks so like a Horse-courser. For my part, I'm resolved to have Mr. Friendly at one time or other, though he owed all the Alewives in Town Money.  Let. 
Thou talk'st, Cousin. But prithee (if thou canst) tell me a serious way.  Sick. 
Why then, I'll tell you; when the Parson asks, whether you'll have him, say no; then I'm sure nothing can be done: what thinkest thou of that, Betty?  Betty. 
I vow, Madam, I think you direct very well. Pray, Mistress, take her advice.  Enter Runwell. Run. 
Madam, my Master sends his Service, and this Letter; from Mr. Friendly this to your Ladyship.  To Fickle. 
Dear Mistress, pity a poor Lover, that lives yet only in hopes that you will make him happy. Pray look upon me; faith, I shall be lost else.  To Betty. Betty. 
Good Lover, let your Master be served before you. Pray, Madam, what says Mr. Lovewell?  Let. 
Betty, I hope that this device of theirs will make us happy. Runwell, go back, and tell them we'll observe their directions.  Exit Runwell. Sick. 
For my part, if I fail in any thing, let me— Here's my Uncle, and the Wise-Acre.  Enter Pett, and Leftwell. Pett. 
What Paper was that you put into your pocket?  Let. 
Only my Tailor's Bill for my last Gown, Sir.  Left. 
Prithee, Love, let me look on't; for by that I shall know what you'll stand me in.  Let. 
Pray, Sir, forbear; when you come to pay for what I wear, you shall have leave to look; till then, you have no Authority, nor shall have over me.  Left. 
I'll fetch you down in your Wedding shoes, i'faith, for this; to Morrow night you shall give me twenty kisses to come to Bed to you, or the Devil take me if I do it; and you are a saucy—  Pett. 
Son, Son, you're too passionate; let her have her humour, for once, and keep her Paper.  Enter to them, a Servant. Seru. 
Sir, here's a Letter was left just now for Mr. Leftwell.  Left. 
Let me see it.  He reads. Sick. 
This is the Challenge; see how his colour turns, Cousin.  Let. 
Indeed, he looks pale.  Left. 
Oh, I'm undone, I'm undone: I would your Daughter had been drowned ten times her depth, before I saw her; I'm undone, I'll have none of her; I'll not be killed for any Woman in England, not I; look here, do but look here; this is from one of the gang of those Rogues that ran away with her this Morning: I don't like her so well, as to lose my life for her; and these cursed Rogues will never leave till they have killed me; undone, undone.  Pett reads the Challe ge. Sick. 
Pray, Mr. Leftwell, take comfort, don't snob so, and be satisfied; you are safe enough in the House.  Left. 
No, Mrs. Fickle, but I an't safe in the House; the Rogue may bring a Cannon, that may carry quite through the House for aught I know, and kill me, so as no body shall know where to find a piece of me afterwards, to tell who hurt me; would I were a thousand Miles off. O good Ladies, speak a good word for me, let me have some comfort from you quickly, I shall faint else.  Pett. 
I Protest, 'tis a bloody design. Daughter, I'll read it to you.  Left. 
O dear, Sir, if you read, I'm a dead Man; I can't endure to hear my own Sentence; pray, put it into your Pocket, for I protest to you with tears, and upon my knees, that I am ready to swoon at the sight of it. Sweet Sir, let me see it no more, if you desire I should live.  Pett. 
Prithee Son be satisfied, I warrant I'll keep thee safe in the House from any harm; nothing shall hurt you here.  Left. 
I tremble as I stand, I protest, for fear I should be blown up; I'll be hanged, if he has not put Gunpowder into the Cellar.  Sick. 
Do you think so; indeed, Mr, Leftwell, it will please me mightily, to die in so good Company as you are; for if the House be blown up, we shall all go together.  Left. 
I don't know how it may please you, but I protest, I can't endure to think on't; I had rather see you, and a hundred more such, blown up together, than be a party concerned. O that ever I set my eyes on that Woman: now must I die for going about to do you a Courtesy.  Let. 
Truly, Sir, I'm sorry you're like to suffer thus for me; I had rather, I assure you, not have you, than you should be injured:  Left. 
You are a couple of dissembling Sluts; I'll warrant you'd be glad to see me hanged, to have me afterwards.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir, there is one Mr. Lovewell at door, very earnest to speak with you.  Left. 
O, then I'm a dead Man, he's come to kill me. Pray good Ladies, pity a poor Man, and stand before me; if I scape killing this time, I'll never go about to Marry more.  Pett. 
I am ashamed to see you such a Coward; a Man, and cry? I'll send for him in, and know his business; if I find him concerned, I'll have him secured. Pray, Son, satisfy yourself.  Left. 
Secure him! that will do me a mighty kindness indeed, his being secured after he has killed me. Before he comes in, let your Servants feel in his pockets for pocket Pistols, and Daggers, and seize upon his Sword.  Pett. 
That's not much amiss, it shall be so: Go tell him, if he will suffer that, he may come in; else he may e'en walk back again.  Let. 
Sir, I wonder what he should come for; I don't care for the sight of him, since he seduced me last away, and brought me into your displeasure.  Pett. 
We shall see presently.  Enter Lovewell, and Servant. Love. 
Your Servant, Sir; I have suffered a very severe search; before I could obtain admittance. I must confess you have some reason to think ill of me; but now, Sir, I am sensible how much I had like to have injured you, and that deserving Gentleman.  Points at Leftwell. Left. 
Oh, he points at me; Mercy, Mercy: dear Mr. Lovewell, let me but live one Three or Fourscore years longer, and then you shall find me very willing to lay down my life at your Service. O, let me not be cut off in my prime, before I have received half a years Rend of my Estate.  Pett. 
Why, what dost thou mean? pray be pacified; he has no design against you I dare swear.  Left. 
Dear Father, stand before me though; for say what you will, I'm afraid to trust him.  Pett. 
Pray, Mr. Lovewell, if you have any business, proceed.  Love. 
Sir, I thought myself, in point of Honour, bound to discover this bloody design laid to destroy your intended Son-in-Law. Look upon this Letter, Sir.  Pett Reads. Pett. 
I protest, Sir, I think myself much engaged to you, if we could by your means apprehend him. My Son-in-Law has already received the Challenge; and it seems, he has chose you for his Second.  Love. 
Sir, that's the thing I came about; if you will get a Warrant for him presently, you'll find both him and me together, at the Sign of the Lamb, within two doors of Justice Frump's; I'll go before, and get him ready.  Pett. 
Now, truly, Mr. Lovewell, we both esteem ourselves much beholden to you, and will endeavour to make you amends.  Love. 
All I desire, is, pardon for my last error. Your Servant, Sir; Ladies, your Servant.  Exit Lovewell. Left. 
I'm glad he's gone; for he has frighted me out of the small sense I had.  Pett. 
Son, will you go along with me to apprehend him?  Left. 
No, Sir; I thank you for that, I'faith; I'll as soon thrust my Head into a hot Oven, as venture my Nose an Inch without the Door, for one of these Dogs to snap at.  Pett. 
Well, then; I'll take my Servants, and do it without you.  Exeunt Pett, Leftwell. Let. 
My Father's gone; I wish they were here now.  Betty. 
What shall we do with this Fool Leftwell? he'll run after my Master, and fetch him back again, when he sees us going: look where he comes sneaking, like a Apprentice Enter Leftwell. that has lost his Master's Money at play. Aside. How do you, Mr. Leftwell? Are you resolved to be Married to Morrow.  Left. 
No, I'm resolved to see whether I shall live, or die, first, by your favour.  Some body knocks. Sick. 
Faith, Mr. Leftwell, I'm afraid, now my Uncle's gone, they are come to kill you; these people knock with fury: hark, they knock again. Look out at the Window, Betty, and bring us word who 'tis, before you let 'em in.  Betty. 
I'll run, Madam.  Exit Betty. Left. 
O, Mrs. Fickle, if I have any heart, 'tis just now in my Mouth. For I feel a soft thing tumbling between my tongue and my teeth.  Enter Betty. Betty. 
O me, Mr. Leftwell, 'tis Mr. Friendly, and Mr. Lovewell; what will you do?  Left. 
Dear Betty, put me into any place to preserve me. O, quickly, they'll get in else, before I can hid myself.  Betty. 
Come along with me, I'll lock you into the Larder; come, come.  Left. 
Betty, I protest, if thou sav'st me this time, I'll have thee, and let thy Mistress alone.  Let. 
he's safe enough.  Betty. 
I've locked up the loggerhead, now I'll let them in.  Exit Betty. Let. 
Do, Betty. Cousin, put on your Scarf, and fit yourself for the March; delays are dangerous.  Sick. 
I am ready, my dear Girl; give me thy hand. I vow, I can but think, how simply we shall look, when we come to night to lie with our Lovers.  Let. 
Thou art the maddest Wench that e'er wore Petticoat: how should we look, think you?  Enter Lovewell, Friendly, and Betty. Love. 
My dear Leticia; your generous love has laid so many obligations on me, that nothing but the Service of an Age can seem a Tithe of satisfaction. Which to be paid—  Sick. 
Pray, Sir, forbear your Compliments at present, and let's make haste to carry on the work we come about.  Friend. 
Bravely proposed, my pretty Mistress; if they lie lingering longer, we'll away, and laugh at them. What dost thou mean, Ned? to be (at this hasty time) telling thy Mistress, in blank verse, that which she has been satisfied in these six Months; how much you love her, and how much she's more than you deserve; why, she knows both the one, and the other.  Let. 
Sir, their advice at this time is not much amiss; therefore let's make haste.  Love. 
Betty, is the Coast clear?  Betty. 
There's none but the Old Charwoman in the House; and she's asleep in the Chimney Corner.  Sick. 
I believe Mr. Leftwell will make a foul Larder; shall we leave him under lock and key?  Betty. 
Hang him, I'll leave the Key in the door, that the next that comes may let him out.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Pett, and Moses, with Servants, at Justice Frump's House; Frump, and Stingey. Pet. 
Mr. Justice, 'tis intolerable; a Man must stand an hour, or two, hearing you talk Nonsense, instead of Law, to delay the time, when a Person comes to you in haste, upon so great an occasion as this is, a matter of life and death.  Frump. 
Stingey, make him a Warrant; but, Sir, a Warrant that is made upon life and death by a Justice of Peace cannot be had for less than a Crown; if you will be at the price of it, my Man will make it you. Sir, 'tis nothing to me, the Money comes into his Pocket; I protest, I don't desire a farthing of you, not I  Pett. 
Sir, I don't value a Crown, as worth a thought; but I have been a Justice myself, and never heard of such a thing as this.  Frump. 
I grant you, Sir, not by a Justice of London, but always by a Justice of Peace of Middlesen. My Man, Sir, knows the Law, as well as most do; and he shall swear it, if you desire to hear him.  Pett. 
He won't, sure. I'll give him ten shillings for the Warrant, if he will.  Sting. 
Pray, Sir, give me the Book.  Offers to swear. Pett. 
Hold, Sir, here's a Crown for your Warrant; I would not for a World be so instrumental in thy destruction. God b'ye, Sir; I believe you have kept me so long, I have lost my opportunity.  Exeunt Pett, and Servants. Frump. 
Pay me for my part, Stingey; I ought to have six pence more than you; for indeed, there is no such price upon any Warrant.  Sting. 
That I know, therefore I offered to swear it, whereas you only told him so; that the Gentleman might be satisfied.  Frump. 
Give me half a Crown then; and take your Hat, and fetch a quart of Ale for your Mistress out of your Money.  Exeunt.  

Scena Ultima.  Enter Pett, and Servants. Pett. 
What, ho! Daughter, Niece, Betty! where are these Girls? What, would they offer to go out, and leave the House empty? Go some of you, and see if you can find them. This idle Justice keeping me so long, has made me miss him; but I suppose, Mr. Lovewell will at Night inform me where I may have them. What, have you found them?  Enter Servant. Seru. 
No, Sir; nor any body, but the old Woman asleep in the Kitchen Chimney.  Pett. 
What should become of them, and Mr. Leftwell? There can be no trick put upon me, forsure they're all together.  Left. 
within. I'm here, Sir; is the House clear? Is there no danger?  Pett. 
Prithee, where art, Man?  Left. 
I am here in some place, I don't know what you call it; but 'tis where the cold Meat, and the Kitchenstuff stands.  Pett. 
What, are you locked in the Larder?  Left. 
I, Sir, the Larder; Betty locked me in two hours ago; I thank her, she saved my life by't; but now I hope you'll let me out  Pett. 
Moses, unlock the door.  Enter Leftwell. Left. 
O, Father, we have been in such a fright since you went; you were no sooner gone, but comes Ned Lovewell, and Frank Friendly, with a full Resolution to kill me, but Betty saved my life. I heard them carry away your Cousin and your Daughter; whom, I believe verily they'll kill for my sake; and that will be a sad thing: but better them, than I  Pett. 
This was a trick, a design; I find it now too late.  Enter to them, Lovewell, Leticia, Friendly, Fickle, Runwell, and Betty. 
Sir, I was sending after you; 'tis well you have brought my Family home again.  Love. 
With all Humility we beg your Blessing, as your Son and Daughter.  Left. 
Ned Lovewell, I'faith, I'm glad thou hast got her; now you will let me live at quiet, I hope, and I'll forgive you all the Money I lent you. I'll e'en strike in with Betty.  Pett. 
What, have you got my Daughter there? If you have an Estate to keep her, 'tis well; you shall have none of me: therefore get you out of my sight.  Love. 
Sir, your Sentence is very severe; will you please but to hear me.  Pett. 
No, Sir, I have heard and seen too much of you already; but there's your way out, and you may take your Lady with you, for she shall ne'er come here again.  Sick. 
Pray, Mr. Lovewell, before you go, will you hear me; my Uncle can't hinder me of my Fortune, part of which is at your Service.  Pett. 
No, Gossip, it shall ne'er be said, that my Daughter was beholden to you for her maintenance. Mr. Lovewell, I know you're a Gentleman, and I find you're Ingenious; but as you have no Estate, if I could have hindered it, you should not have Married her; but I will be satisfied, since I see 'tis decreed: I am imformed too, you have behaved yourself handsomely, and honestly, and in that believe my Daughter not quite cast away. My Blessing be upon you both; and I'm apt to believe you'll use her well, which I doubt whether Leftwell would have done. Cousin, I wish you joy; your Portion shall be paid you when you please; and if you learn to be thrifty, you may be happy.  Love. 
May Heaven, Sir, reward your kindness with continual joy; and may I live no longer than that day when I forget to pay you most obedient Service.  Friend. 
Sir, I hope in a little time to let you see the Fruits of our labour, and am resolved to make you a great Uncle, as soon as my Friend Lovewell shall a Grandsire.  Sick. 
O, Sir, these liberal promisers are always short paymasters.  Pett. 
How do you intent to dispose of yourself Mr. Leftwell, after your great fright?  Left. 
Why, I desire you'd give me leave to Marry your Maid; a Man may have her without danger of being Murdered, and I have always had a mind to her.  Pett. 
Betty, come hither, give me your hand, I'll make the Match; it shall be done to Morrow Morning.  Betty. 
Now my Mistress is provided for, I begin to love myself so well, that I cannot find in my heart to refuse a good Fortune, though it come by a Fool; whom I believe I can baste into submission.  Aside. 
Sir, it shall be as you command.  Run. 
I'm not a whit sorry I ha' lost my Mistress, since I see she's better provided; neither will I despair of making my Fortune by her favour, out of this Ass.  Aside. Enter Faithful. Faith. 
Gentlemen, and Ladies, your Servant; hearing that all things and parties are agreed, I've brought some Friends of mine that resolve to give you a Song and a Dance.  Friend. 
Honest Tom, 'tis kindly done; and they will, I believe, be very acceptable to all the good Company; but we'll Dance ourselves, if your Friends, as you call them, will but strike up. I wish thou hadst a Mistress too, to make thy happiness equal ours.  Faith. 
Mine wants but little on't; for I'm resolved to live as well as you: now you two are rich, I'll ne'er be poor.  Friend. 
Thou art ours for ever, Tom.  Love. 
But he should keep his Hands clean, then.  Faith. 
What, won't Marriage tame you? Still abusive? I must stop your Mouths with Music.  Music plays, and Dance. Pett. 
All excellent good, i'faith; very good indeed: pray, Son, and Nephew, walk in, and lead your Wives to Supper, for it grows near that time; for Betty's sake, you shall be welcome too, Mr. Leftwell.  Left. 
Nay, I care not for whose sake it is; so I have but enough, I shall be very well satisfied. Come, Sweeting.  Friend. 
If we had been unhappy in the loss of our Mistresses now, I should have grown almost out of love with Honesty.  Love. 

O, there's nothing like it.  
Let all that would do ill be ruled by me;  
For by this Precedent you plainly see  
Fate still reserves rewards for Honesty.   Exeunt omnes.  
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  

NOw, Gallants, your result; we fain would know  
Whether you Judge it fit to live, or no:  
This truth we'll say, to mitigate its Crime,  
It is his first; made in a fortnight's time.  
A Critic, for that Reason, aught to give,  
If not a Pardon, surely, a Reprieve.  
'Twould be high Tyranny for to inveigh,  
In cruel terms, against an Infant Play.  
But if your Laws all mercy do deny;  
he's sure to have relief in equity:  
He appeals thither, as his proper Sphere,  
Nor can he be compelled to appear  
In any other Court; but could he by persuasions draw  
You to be kind in equity and Law;  
And see it signed with all your hands, he'll be,  
Though now but weak, yours in Maturity.