Licenced,  
August 14. 1685. RO. L'ESTRANGE.   

Cuckolds-Haven: OR, AN ALDERMAN No Conjurer. A FARCE. Acted at the QUEEN'S THEATRE in Dorset Garden.  
By N. TATE.  
LONDON, Printed for J. H. and are to be sold by Edward Poole, next door to the Fleece Tavern in Cornhill. 1685.   

TO THE HONOURABLE COLONEL Edmund Ashton.  
SIR,  
AS you will find the following Scenes drawn from the Stores of that great Master Ben, I hope you will think the Contrivance no ill Imitation: That they had no better Success on the Stage, was for this Reason: The principal Part (on which the Diversion depended) was, by Accident, disappointed of Mr. Nokes' Performance, for whom it was designed, and only proper; which caused a Retrenchment of whole Scenes in the Action, that are in this Copy inserted. As it here lies together, if the Plot be not too regular for Farce, and ought not rather to have been called Comedy, I dare trust the Reader for the rest. Notwithstanding all the Disadvantages in its Appearance on the Stage, you were pleased, Sir, to discover some Beauties through the Cloud. However, I am not so much concerned for a Work of this Nature, as to impose the Protection of it upon you. My Ambition in this Address, is, to own my good fortune in your Acquaintance, and Advantages from thence, as to Nobler Species of Poetry. I speak not with relation to any Essays of my own, but for improvement of my Skill in the best Latin Poets. When Ben Johnson was informed, that a certain Person had done him Injury, he cried out with Indignation, I made the Ingrateful Man understand Horace. Obligations of this kind, indeed, are unvaluable. I presume (Sir) I could before pretend to a Grammarians, or Commentators knowledge; but this was understanding like a Dutchman:  

From whom, the Author's more obscure become,  
The Fogs of Holland cloud the Wit of Rome;  
While these the Vehicle of Words essay,  
The subtle Spirit flies unseen away.   
They understood the Words, but you the Poet. Your Judgement does not terminate in what is expressed, but takes in the whole Scope of Fancy, and feels the flame of the Poet, while he laboured with Inspiration. In short (Sir) you make their very Spirit visible; and with piercing sight discover those Beauties, which their Art threw off to such distance, that they were not discerned by Vulgar Eyes. The World must allow me to pay this Acknowledgement: It is what I heard owned (while a Stranger to you) by a 
* E. of Roscommon.  first-rate Judge, as well as Poet; he that was at once the Horace and Maecenas of our Age. know, Sir, you will pardon me, if on mention of that Noble Person, I stain this Paper with a Tear.  

Multis ille bonis flebilis Occidit,  
Nulli flebilior quam Tibi -------   
Of many Obligations that endear his Memory to me, the Opportunity of your Acquaintance was not the least; while I have heard you discant together on your beloved Authors, Time seemed to me to be revolved, and I thought myself in the Court of Augustus. I think the Nation is duly grateful for what he has transplanted from their Language, though sparing of those Favours. We likewise know, Sir, that you have not fate down with the bare knowledge of those ancient Roman Treasures, without giving some parts of them the English Stamp. And to hoard them in Secrecy, is injury to your Country. It was always thought the Perfection of an Honourable person, to be an Accomplished Courtier, Soldier, and Scholar. All which Capacities are (Sir) without Compliment, ascribed to You. Nor may we omit, that Justice, Courtesy, and Condescension, which (in relation to Inferiors) complete the Character of a Gentleman. As a just Respect on these Worthy Accounts is rendered to you by all Persons, it is by none more sincerely paid, than by,  
SIR, Your most Humble Servant, and Admirer, N. TATE.   

PROLOGUE.  

WE own, nor to confess it are ashamed, (framed.  
That from tough Ben's Remains, this Piece was  
But if Embellishments of Vanity  
And Vice, are here improved to a degree  
Beyond the Characters that Master drew,  
We must the Ladies thank for that, and you,  
So far above what Johnson's Age e'er knew.  
Our Scene's compact, and if it be not witty,  
You must consider, Sirs, 'tis laid i'th' City.  
Where yet we shall present one Sparkish Citt,  
Who Drinks, Whores, Dresses, which I think is Wit;  
Or, Mercy on three parts of this good Pit.  
Lewdness and Dress must, by the Critics Pardon,  
Be Wit, or 'gad ye ruin Covent-Garden.  
But Sense, or Nonsense, is to us all one,  
Our Trinculo and Trapp'lin were undone,  
When Lime's more Farcy Monarchy begun.  
Oh! Were this Frantic Nations Woes too few,  
But we must have both Dam and Devil too?  
First, with the Old Serpent plagued of Associations,  
And since, with viler Spawn of Declarations:  
Whose poison such Distraction could create,  
That Scyth-men listed to Mow down the State.  
But now the Monster has her final Rout,  
The very Dregs of Treason's Tap are out:  
This Triumph then, with Just Applause be given  
To Caesar's Conduct, and assisting Heaven.  
Sense now shall flourish, Discord be no more,  
For Wit and Peace are Caesar's to restore.    

The Persons.  
Alderman Touchstone, intended for Mr. noke's, 
By Mr. percival.  Golding, his Sober Servant, 
Mr. Baker.  Quicksilver, his Debauched Servant, 
Mr. Jevon.  Security, a Bawd and Usurer, 
Mr. Lee.  Sir Petronell Flash, 
Mr. Williams.  Captain Seagull, 
Mr. Gillow.  Mr. Bramble, a Lawyer, 
Mr. Hains.  Mrs. Touchstòne, 
Mrs. Corye.  Girtred, her Daughter, an Affected Cittess, Married and cozened by Sir Petr. Flash. 
Mrs. percival.  Mildred, the Sober Daughter, 
Mrs. Twiford.  Security's Wife, 
Mrs. Price.  Sindefy, Punk to Quicksilver. 
 Servants and Sailors. 
  Scene LONDON.  


A NEW FARCE, CALLED Cuckolds-Haven. ACT I. SCENE I.  Touchstone's Shop at the farther End; Golding walking short turns before it. Touchstone with Accounts in his Hand. Touch. 
UPon Mortgage of his whole Estate remains due to his Lordship 300 l. this comes of Prodigality, of his Lordship's Stewards towards a Purchase for himself 5000. There's the fruits of Industry— At Interest for Mrs. Procure-well 1200. There's Industry again— Lent, Received, Receipts, Receipts, Disbursements, Bonds, bonds, Judgements, etc. Well, we Married Citizens had need of strong Heads to support what is put upon'em; our greatest Care is, to look after them that should take the Care off our Hands. I must in and settle these Accounts before—  [As he is going in, Quicksilver enters upon him and drives him backward. Quick. 
Alack! alack, Sir! sincerely, I did not think of your Worship.  Touch. 
Thou insolent Varlet! What? stumble upon the very Face of Authority? Doit thou behold no Terror in this overture? Is this natural Type of Reverence, and this Emblem of the City's Honour, but Ciphers with you? ha!  Quick. 
Peradventure, Sir—  Touch. 
I will not be peradventured, Sir; Answer me directly. What loose Action are you now bound for? what Comrades are you to meet? who gives the Supper? and where's the Rendezvouz? I will have an Account of all these in a Breath, in a Sentence, in one Word, Sir.  Quick. 
Indeed, and in very good sober Truth, Sir—  Touch. 
Indeed, and in very good sober Truth, Sir!— behind my back thou wilt swear faster than a French Footboy, and talk more Bawdy than a Midwife.— I tell thee, Sirrah, I am thy natural Lord and Master, William Touchstone, Goldsmith and Alderman of London, an Alderman, Sirrah, Alderman; I will likewise make thee understand that thou art my indented Servant, Francis Quicksilver.— Work upon that now.  Quick. 
Surely I am your bounden and most faithful—  Touch. 
Without Preamble, I will know what Diversion you are now a running to.  Quick. 
Surely one may use his Recreation with his Master's Profit.  Touch. 
Servant's Recreations are seldom with their Master's Profit: --- Work upon that now—  Quick. 
Surely I was but going to a Funeral Sermon, Sir,— of a dear Friend, Sir.  [Crying. Touch. 
sayst thou so— I protest I was to blame for chiding thee— dear Francis, I ask thy Pardon and am sorry for thy Friend with all my heart— But, Sirrah, seeing is believing, show me your Sermon-Book, produce your Shorthand-Book, quickly I say.  Quick. 
Here, Sir.  Touch. 
Let me see't.  Quick. 
Sincerely, I shall come too late, Sir.  Touch. 
Let me see't I say— what is here? Sol, lafoy! me, fa! sol, sol, --- what has this to do here?— With a Stone at the Gate, and a handsome young Wench to rub my bald Pate.— Why, thou Pagan Rogue: Thou hast more Tricks with thee than an Irish Runaway with seven years' Improvement in the West-Indies. I will see further what Rigging you have about; off with that Cloak of Iniquity, where are you?  [Quicksilver dodges about him, at last Touchstone pulls off his Cloak and discovers Flutes, Swords, Pumps, Racks, Dancing Shoes, etc. girded round him. 
Heyday, heyday! what a Composition is here! Thou hast more Trangams about thee than a Hocus Pocus, or the Wonderful Fish that came Armed against Turk and Pope.  Quick. 
Work upon that now.  Touch. 
Thou shameless Varlet, dost thou deride me too? dost thou laugh at thy lawful Master, contrary to thy Indentures? I will make thee, Sirrah, at Noonday for Penance, to walk in this Equipage from Leaden-Hall to Ludgate.  Quick. 
I will as soon serve a Prenticeship to every Cuckold betwixt Leaden-Hall and Ludgate, by this Light. What a Plague, Sir, I am a Gentleman, though a younger Brother, and your Worship's Servant.  Touch. 
Dost thou Swear, Rakehell? thy Father was an honest Tradesman.  Quick. 
But my Mother was a Gentlewoman, and with your favour, Sir, I will swear by the Mother's side. Is it not for your Worship's Advantage that I keep Company? I am entertained amongst Gallants, they call me Cousin Frank; right. I lend them Money; good. They spend it; very well. And when 'tis gone, must they not strive to get more? must not their Land fly? and to whom? shall not your Worship have the Refusal? How could Tradesmen thrive if Gentlemen were not Unthrifts? how could Gentlemen be Unthrifts without Supplies for their Debauchery? Well, the City ought to consider me. I am now going to a Gaminghouse; the Sparks fall to Play; I carry light Gold with me; Cousin Frank, say they, some Gold for Silver; I change gain by it: They lose the Gold and cry, Cousin Frank, Lend me some Silver; by which means—  Touch. 
Nay, the Rogue has Wit, that's certain; the Rogue has Wit— I cannot help loving the Dog— but, Sirrah, did I gain my Wealth by Ordinaries? no. By exchanging of Gold? no. By keeping Gallant Company? no. I hired me a little Shop, sought low, kept no Debt-Book, garnished my Shelves for want of Plate with good wholesome thrifty Sentences; as, Touchstone keep thy Shop, and thy Shop will keep thee; Light Gains, make heavy Purses; Be merry, and wise. And when I was Wived having something to stick to, I had ever the Horn of Security before my Eyes; you all know the device of the Horn, where the young Fellow slips in at the Butt, and comes squeezed out at the Buckall. Yet I grew up to this Dignity that you see here, and bear my Brows as high as my Neighbours; but thou— well, look to Accounts, your Father's Bond lies for you, Seven hundred art thou run out of Cash.  Quick. 
I have proper gentlemen's words for't, and well dressed! shall I deny a Gentleman that calls me Cousin Frank?  Enter a Page. Page. 
Which is Mr. Touchstone's Shop?  Gold. 
Here, Sir. What lack you, Sir? what d'ye buy, Sir?  Touch. 
Look you there now! there's your Fellow Servant, does he spark it? well, if he outlast not an hundred such crackling Bavins as thou art, Heaven and Men neglect Industry— with me Boy?  Page. 
My Master, Sir Petronell Flash, presents his Service to you, and intends instantly to visit you.  Touch. 
I understand you Boy: to Consummate Marriage with my Eldest Daughter, my Wive's Dilling, whom she longs to call Madam— Your Master shall find me most unwillingly ready, Boy.  [Ex. Page. 
There's another Affliction too; my Eldest Daughter is as Prodigal as my youngest Servant. She must be Ladifyed forsooth, take all her Dress from the Court, take Quality-Rambles, and keep Quality-Hours. Well, a piece of Land she has, her Grandmothers Gift, let her Sir Petronell flash out that: But as for my Substance, she that scorns me, as I am a Citizen and Alderman, shall never be the better for that; nor shall that be the worse for her— However— Golding, come hither, Golding— no, no, you Quicksilver— I, I, Golding, Golding my outmost Care is for thee, and my only Trust is in thee, look to the Shop— Mr. Quicksilver, look on the Brodigals Hog-trough in the Hangings within, I say, Consider them: think upon Husks: Husks— work upon that now.  [Exit. Quick. 
Husks in your Wittal's weazon; and a Million of Millstones to the Bargain. Here's Authority with a Horse Pox.  Gold 
For shame how you Talk.  Quick. 
And who shall say me nay? I will both Talk and Swear, I am a Gentleman, and may Swear by my Pedigree. Golding thou art yet ---- but I'll improve thee into a Man and a good Fellow, I will show thee Company with Souls in them, Drink thee into good Blood.  

Good store of brisk Claret supplies every thing,  
And the Man that is Drunk is as great as a King.   Gold. 
Away with your Ribaldry Playhouse Morals.  Quick. 
I tell thee we will redeem, redeem the City's Honour, and show there may be Prentices that are no Coxcombs. Shall our free Spirits be held in Bonds of Calf-skin, and subjected to a formal Beard and Chain?  Gold. 
What would you have me do?  Quick. 
Do nothing, turn Gentleman and be Idle; the Curse of Man is Labour. Wilt thou walk here from Sun to Sun between two Pissing Posts, or stand with a bare Pate, drivelling Nose, and Arms across under a rotten Penthouse?  Gold. 
Away, you Prodigal Fool.  Quick. 
That word again and thou art Immortal.  Gold. 
Thou Shuttlecock; Thou Gull of lewd Companions; I see thee already in the Temple Rounds with half a Hat, thy Crevat the reversion of a Barber's Apron— soft, soft, unsheathe that Iron, and I will make thee swallow it.  Quick. 
As I am a Gentleman, I'll get drunk incontinently, incontinently, grow Valiant, and beat thee.  [Exit.  

SCENE II. Security House.  Wynifred Security's Wife, and Clog giving her a Letter. Clog. 
From your Admirer Madam, Sir Petronell Flash.  Wyn. 
And are you certain my Old Security did not see you take it in?  Clog. 
Pray think I understand my Office better.  Wyn. 
What an impudent Knight is this to continue addressing to me, and send me word the same time that he's going to be Married, but for my sake and to prevent Suspicion: 'tis a scurvy sure way, and I could have studdyed better. I'll hear no further from him.  Clog. 
By your Beauty's leave, Madam, I must presume to say you are not altogether so wise as true politic Wife would be; who being Married to such a Nicumpoop (I speak it with my Master's peace) whose Face confesses him what you ought to make him), that you will out of conscientious scruple, defraud a poor Old Gentleman of what he longs for, and makes it his whole study to compass only a Modish Title; could he but write Cuckold he has his Ends; for look you—  Wyn. 
What means the Varlet? why thou know'st the golden Fruit was never watched so, as my Old Dragon watches me.  Clog. 
Why, there you find his worshipful Ambition, the Top of it, the very forked Top. Why should he keep you thus mured up in a back Room, allow you ne'er a Casement to the Streets, for fear of engendering by the Eyes, forbid you Paper, Pen and Ink like Ratsbane, search your half Pint of Sack, lest a Letter should be sunk in it? why all this Confinement but to make Men covet you the more?  Wyn. 
I grant it indeed the only Method that could seduce me, and bring upon his head what most he fears.  Clog. 
Will you make benefit of Time and Truth? I am set over you, employed to watch your Steps, your Looks, your very Breathe, and report them to him, now if you will be a modish right sweet Mistress, we'll make a Cokes of this wise Master, an absolute fine Cokes, quite disappoint the Care and Industry of such a solemn and effectual Ass, an Ass to such good purpose as we'll make him.  Wyn. 
I understand you not.  Clog. 
I am, 'tis true, my Master's man, but my mistress's slave, the Servant of her Pleasures and sweet Turns, and know all Points that will conduce to them. I will contrive it so that you shall go to Park, to Plays, to Feasts and Masquerades, take care you shall have such Rigging Sails, and Trim as handsome Vessels should put forth with, I'll choose you Confidents, and Lovers, convey your Letters, fetch you Answers, with all other Offices requisite to youthful Blood and Beauty.  Wyn. 
This is most strange.  Clog. 
And for Variety, at times (though I am not of Symmetry and Complexion to boast a Sovereignty over ladies' hearts, like some of my sphere) yet I can do, my sweet Madam.  Wyn. 
How's this?  Clog. 
Dear, delicate Madam, I am your little Parakeet, your Sparrow, your Shock, your Pugg, your Squirrel.  Wyn. 
Impudent Slave! what can the Varlet mean by this Presumption? ----- Oh, I haué found it out, and was most dull not to conceive it before; My jealous Husband put him on this Practice— Where are you, Sir? for I know you hear me; come from your peeping Corner; spare yourself a little from your Watch to applaud your Groom here, that so well follows your Instructions.  Enter Security. Sec. 
Where is my little Bunting? why how now, Bird? what, in a Pett? I Prithee what's the matter?  Wyn. 
Very well, you are a Stranger to the Plot, I warrant you? did not set your Vassal here to tempt your innocent Wife with most uncivil Language and Action?  Clog. 
I sweat, I sweat.  Sec. 
I understand thee not, my Goldfinch.  Clog. 
Sir, the Essex Squire has been thrice here since you went out, he'll Mortgage to his Uncle, unless you find him instantly.  Sec. 
That must not be— What were you saying, Chick?  Wyn. 
Durst he presume to mention Love to me without Directions from you?  Sec. 
To mention Love to thee, Bunting? Conspire against my Honour?— What wert thou saying, Clog? is there any Danger of our missing of the Mortgage— The Varlet durst not do't, my Lark. What? mention Lewdness to thee? any thing that pointed towards Cuckold's Row?  Wyn. 
As if you were not planted on the Stairs, or behind the Hangings— I am sure 'twas your Direction.  Sec. 
Thou shalt see, Bird, how I directed him,  [Puts off his Cloak, 
O thou most manifest Villain! Thou Fiend Apparent! Thou declared Hellhound!  [Beats him. Clog. 
Sir, Sir, Sir.  Sec. 
Knave, Rascal, Traitor, have I found you? what, upon your first point of Trust and Charge? the very Week of your Probation?  Clog. 
Some Moderation, good Sir.  Sec. 
Have I for this conferred all Offices upon thee, made thee my Clerk, Wardrobe Man, Caterer, Cook, Butler, Steward, and what transcends all these, my Wife-watcher?  Clog. 
Good Sir.  Wyn. 
But tell me, Cue; where were you all the while?  Sec. 
At Council Bramble's, Bird, drawing up of a Judgement.— There is one blow more for exercise— You see, my Lark, how I directed him.  Clog. 
Would you had done, Sir.  Sec. 
O Bird, what Blessings follow Industry, no less than three Forfeitures this Morning.— One more to put you in mind of the last? you are pampered with your whole Pitchard a day, I shall reduce you to a Sprat, Rogue. Are you tentiginous? ha!  Clog. 
I shall expire --- dear Sir.  Sec. 
And what'is all this care and toil of mine for, but to enrich thee, Bird? Six Flanders Mares to your Coach, that's your Proportion. I do hunger and thirst to do the good, Bird.  Wyn. 
Why am I then confined to one dark Room?  Sec. 
For thy good still, Bird, and beside, to please thee thou shalt have thy Cage new Painted. There's conceit for thee. Turn me lose to the wittiest of 'em, and to the wisest too. What Trade like mine of Usury? All others complain of Inconvenience. The Merchant says, Traffic is subject to Incertainty and Loss; let them keep their Goods on dry Land with a Vengeance. Besides, their Gains are unconscionable, two for one, or so; whereas I in my Lending of Money am content with moderate Profit, 30 or 40 in the 100, so I may have it with Quietness, and no Hazzard.  Wyn. 
Thy Godfathers were in the right; Cue, thou deserv'st thy Name.  Sec. 
One Prays for a Westwardly Wind to carry his Ship out, another for an Eastwardly to bring his home; and at every shaking of a Leaf he falls into an Ague. The Farmer is ever at odds with the weather, sometimes the Clouds are barren, their Harvests are too thin; sometimes the Season is too fruitful, and Corn will bear no Price; whereas we that Trade only in Money, are pleased with all Wethers; so the Sun and Moon stand not still, but make up Days, Months, and Years.  Enter Mrs. Sindefy. Syn. 
O Sir, Mr. Francis Quick-silver's below.  Sec. 
Bring him up, dear Charge, I do hunger and thirst to do him good. ---- To thy Chamber, my dear Turtle.  Wyn. 
Let it be the Street Room this time, Cue.  Sec. 
It shall be the back Room, I have Sworn it in the violence of my Affection to thee.  Wyn. 
One pair of Stairs then.  Sec. 
Two, Bird, Two. Thou seest my Love in keeping thee so close, it shows thou art my Jewel— In my sight still?  Re-enter Sindefy with Quicksilver. Quick. 
And how fares my Old Dad? does he digest Iniquity well still? and has he seen my running Gelding dressed to day? O, my dear Sindefy, that Time were half so fleet, my wished Enfranchisement would soon arrive.  Syn. 
Ah Frank, you wish you know not what! your Master's Wealth and Trust supports you now, but when that Term's expired—  Quick. 
Why then I'll conjure Money to my Pockets, though she were fled and dead, I'd raise her with Aqua vitae out of old Hogsheads; while there are Lees of Wine or Dregs of Beer, I'll never want her; Coin her out of Cobwebs; raise Wool upon Eggshells, make Grass grow upon Marrowbones, but I will make her come.  Syn. 
Come, you may yet provide a Stock for Traffic against your time expires.  Quick. 
Thou art a Fool Syn. Traffic! shall ay, who am the Flower of City Wits, turn Paltry Merchant, and trust my Estate to a Hogs-trough? what are Ships but Tennis Balls for the Winds to play withal? foutra for dull Preferments of the City. I will to Court Syn.  Syn. 
What Winds or Seas have Hazard like—  Re-enter Security. Quick. 
Ah Pox! and who taught you this Morality?  Sec. 
Long of this Witty Age, Mr. Francis, and your Mercurial Conversation.  Quick. 
Well said Old Dad, Thou Father of Destruction. I am bringing more Widgeons into thy Usurious Nets. Claw me, claw thee, runs through Court and Country.  Sec. 
Right, my subtle Quick. I do therefore hunger and thirst to do thee good. ----- But what new Game hast thousprung, my nimble Francis; for I do hunger and thirst to do thee good?  Quick. 
A certain Knight of my Acquaintance—  Sec. 
I hunger and thirst to do him good.  Quick. 
Has present Occasion for twelve Hundred Guinneys: Sir Petronell Flash by Name.  Sec. 
How? that Bankrupt Prodigal, I renonnce him and his Wants.  Quick. 
That is betwixt you and I, Dad: but this Day he Marries my Master's eldest Daughter, and—  Sec. 
Bring me to him instantly, I hunger and thirst to do him good, come bring me to him— You were tentiginous, Rogue, were you?  [Exeunt.  

SCENE III. Touchstone's House.  Girfred, Mildred, Poldavie with a French Mantoa under his Arm, Girfred's Maid. Gir. 
For the Passion of Patience, look if Sir Petronell approach; that sweet, that fine, that Alamode, that— for Love's sake tell me if he come— O Sister Mill, though my Father be a Paltry Tradesman, yet I must be a Lady, and I will be a Lady, and I thank my Stars, my Mother must call me Madam— does he come, off with this scandalous Gown for shame, let not my Knight take in this vile City cut at any rate— does he come?— tear it, Pox on't, tear't off— Thus while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake— What a dull English Animal art thou to keep me an Age in torment? tear it off, I say.  Mild. 
Lord, Sister, with what disdain do you put off your City Tire? what pains you take to make yourself Ridiculous.  Gir. 
Lord, Sister Mill, that you will be pretending to Gallantry and Dress with that mechanic Soul of yours! how often have I told you that you have no Genius for these things? How should you understand Mien or bon Grace, the Brillian and Negligence of a Court Carriage, the belle conceit of a Fan, and the Esprit of a Fontnage? I have studdyed these, things, and have fancy to reach the Meridian of them.  Mild. 
To reach the Meridian of Folly, you mean, Sister.  Gir. 
Your Ambition, Sister, aspires no higher than to Marry a Common-Council-Man, and a Crape Gown with a filthy English Cut may serve your turn: but I must be a Lady. I like the humour of some City Dames well, to eat Cherries at an Angel a Pound pretty well: to die Scarlet black Tolerable: to line their Coachès with Velvet indifferent; but for a thousand other Niceties they have no Fancy: they are my Aversion as I hope to be a Lady ----- Is he not come yet? Lord, what a long Knight 'tis? And ever she cried shoot home, shoot home ---- yet I have known à longer ----  Mild. 
Well, Birds that scorn their Nest before their Plumes are grown ----  Gir. 
Still at your reprimands? Thou art more dull and troublesome than Bow-Bell. When I am a Lady, I'll pray for thy Conversion to Sense; nay, I'll vouchsafe to call thee Sister Mill; for though thou art not like to be a Lady, yet 'tis possible thou may'st be saved as soon as I ---- not come yet? ---- and ever and anon, she doubled in her Song ----- Liberty, Liberty. Now Monsieur Poldavie for your Reputation; come, fit it on.  Pold. 
Me sal please you Madam assurement,  Gir. 
There's mettle for you! well, there's more Soul in one French Tailor, than in a whole Company of our Train'dbands. Page, let me have the French Song, it will help off this fatigue of Dressing.  

SONG.  

She.  
THe Wise believe that I love none,  
And some that I love All;  
While none can call my heart his Own,  
Each Portion is so small.   

Herald  
Some say, I for Olinda die;  
My Breast so fierce a Passion warms;  
Most think my hour is not so nigh,  
But ah! They little know her Charms.   

She.  
My Heart's the Weathercock of Love,  
Which every Sigh can turn;  
And every amorous Breath can move,  
But Nothing make it burn.   

Herald  
My Heart is Love's mere Tennis-Ball,  
Here tossed, there bandied up and down;  
But in good Hands, if once it fall,  
'Tis lodged, 'tis then for ever gone.    [Poldavie the mean time fits on her Mantoa, and her Woman puts on her Head-Tire. 
And is this Alamode upon your Honour, Monsieur?  Pold. 
Ver fine, Madam; here it be close, here it be stiff, here it be Capacity, and will keep your Tighs so cool. Here vas de faut in your Body, Madam; but me have rectify dat defect with de effect of my steel Instrument; my steel Instrument, Madam, have one Eye, but can ver well see to rectify de imperfections in the Lady's Proportions, Madam.  Gir. 
And how must I bear my Hands now? light.  Pold. 
Ouy, Madam, now you be de Court fashoons, you must all ting light, tread light, and fall light— bon amy! dat be de Court Ambla.  Mil. 
Has the Court never a Trott, Monsieur?  Pold. 
No Trotta, no Trontt, but de false Gallopa, Madam.  Gir. 
An' thou hadst been an English Tirewoman, I should have beaten thee; for I could learn another Story of Fontanges.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
The Knight is come, Madam.  Gir. 
Is my Knight come? where's my Fan now? Sister, do my Cheeks look well? give me a little Box o'th' Ear, to fetch the Colour into them. So, so ---- O dearest Dear! How does my Errand Knight?  Mil. 
For shame, with more Modesty.  Gir. 
Modesty! why? I am no Citizen now: Modesty! am not I to be Married? you had best keep me Modest when I am a Lady; the way of ---- is a la negligence, is't not my Hero?  Pet. 
Assurance there is necessary, Madam.  Gir. 
But why came you no sooner, Knight?  Pet. 
A most important—  Gir. 
And who were you with?  Pet. 
A true—  Gir. 
And was your Wine good?  Pet. 
If you—  Gir. 
And were your Company mad enough? for I must have you very lewd; 'tis Alamode and great. Well, there is nothing can spoil our Happiness, but your being too fond of me; fondness in a Husband is a mechanic thing. I hope therefore you'll prove wild, to justify your Quality.  Pet. 
I shall endeavour on my part, Madam.  Enter Mrs. Touchstone. Mrs. T. 
Welcome, my honourable Guest; and when must this Marriage affair be dispatched?  Pet. 
I come now, Madam, to consummate it; If Mr. Alderman pleases, you may this Morning call a poor Knight Son-in-Law.  Mrs. T. 
And my Daughter Madam; what an Air is there! how well her Dress and Quality becomes her!  Enter Touchstone. 
Look here, Master Touchstone, and weep your Eyes blind for Joy; would you imagine this to be your Daughter? for my part, I scarce can. What, no respect to her Ladyship?  Touch. 
Sir Knight, you are welcome to her Body; as for the rest, I am not unwilling to forego it; because it is not in my Power to keep it from you. There I think I am civil to you. Seven hundred Pound purchase of Land her Grandmother left her, is yours; Herself (as her Mother's Gift) is yours; but if you expect any thing from me, know, that my Hand Eyes open together; I do not give blindly ---- Work upon that now.  Pet. 
Sir, You mistrust my Means; I hope, I am a Knight.  Touch. 
Sir, what I do not know, I must be bold to say I am ignorant of.  Mrs. T. 
Nay, I can answer for his being a Knight; I know where he had the Money to pay his Fees. And so might you have been a Knight, an' you had not been an Ass; had I thought you would not have been Knighted, I would have dubbed you myself— but as for your Daughter—  Gir. 
I Mother, I must be a Lady anon, and by your leave, Mother, (I speak it not without my Duty, but only in right of my Husband) I must take place of you, Mother.  Mrs. T. 
That you shall, Lady-Daughter; and have a Coach too, as well as I.  Gir. 
And, by your leave, Mother, (I speak it not without my Duty, but only in right of my Husband) my Coach-Horses must take the Wall of your Coach-Horses.  Touch. 
Come, come, the Day wears apace; I love to have a scurvy Business soon over— There I think I was civil again— d'ye hear, Sir, how you will use this Daughter of mine, I know not; and how she will deserve to be used, I know less than t'other: But I must tell you, Sir, that for your sake she has refused known honest Men, well moneyed, better traded, best reputed ---- Work upon that now.  Gir. 
Citizens, ma soy, beastly Citizen, sweet Knight, as soon as ever we are Married, take me to thy mercy out of this miserable City, from the scent of Sea-coal, and the hearing of Bow-Bell; let us but Marry a little, and then down with me, down with me immediately.  [Exeunt all.  
The End of the First Act.   


ACT II. SCENE I.  A Chair, Coat, Perewigg, and Band. After a confused manner, the Waits, Drums, Trumpets, saluting the Bridegroom; Enter Touchstone, in his Night Gown and Cap. Touch. 
HEre's a Noise with a Vengeance, as if a Pope were Roasting with Cats in his Belly. Why, my House has been made a Tavern this Night; but my comfort is, the Reckoning falls to my. Wife's Charge. Our Bellies have stowed more sorts of Provision than Noah's Ark: 'Tis our City's fault, which, because we do it but seldom, we do it the more sinfully.— hay! Quicksilver— Here's no being heard without a Speaking Trumpet— Quicksilver, I say, Mr. Francis Quicksilver.  Enter Quicksilver. Quick. 
Here, Sir. Uck!  Touch. 
Most worshipful Sir, will your important Affairs give you leave to Dress me?  Quick. 
I should leave any Business to serve you, Sir; though I were fast asleep. Uck!  [He puts on his Coat wrong, and Buttons it behind. Touch. 
Foh, Sirrah! how you stink of Wine.  Quick. 
Would you desire a better smell, Sir? Uck! uck!  Touch. 
The Drunken Hiccough too, upon my Honour.  Quick. 
'Tis but the coldness of my Stomach, Sir.  Touch. 
What, have you the Cause natural for it? The Wedding Night could not moisten your Throat sufficiently, but the Morning too must rain her Dews upon you.  Quick. 
An' please you, Sir, we did but drink to the coming off of the Knightly Bridegroom.  Touch. 
To the coming off on him?  Quick. 
ay, Sir, we drank to his coming on when we went to Bed, and now we are up, we must drink to his coming off; That's the chief Honour of a Soldier, Sir; and therefore we must drink so much the more to it. Uck!  Touch. 
A very Capital Reason. I believe your Logic must be forced anon to make three Silver Tankards out of two.  Quick. 
The Knight's Men are still on their Knees at it; and because 'tis for your Credit, Sir, I would be joth to flinch.  Touch. 
I beseech you, Sir, to'em again: you are one of the separated Crew, one of my Wife's Faction.  Quick. 
Of the sure side, Sir.  Touch. 
And of my young Ladies, with whom, and her great Match, I will have nothing to do.  Quick. 
So, Sir, now I will go keep my Credit with 'em, an' please you, Sir.  Touch. 
By any means, Sir, I beseech you, lay one Cup of Sack more upon your cold Stomach ---- but have a care, Sirrah, your Head will be turned presently, I can tell you.  Quick. 
Your Worship's Head is turned already, Sir.  [Exit. Touch. 
What's that, Rogue? ha! Drunk for my Credit, quotha? 'tis a sprightly Knave this. I have two Daughters just like my two Servants; one has Grace, and no Wit; the other Wit, and no Grace; There's my Wife has neither. Well, Mr. Alderman, thy Preferment is thy Comfort; and in that Consideration—  [Looks in the Glass, and sees himself wrong dressed. 
What's here now? what a profane Varlet is this, not to know the right side of an Alderman?— he said my Head was turned indeed. Golding, Golding.  Enter Golding. Gold. 
Here, Sir; what does your Worship want?  Touch. 
Come, Dress me, Golding.  Gold. 
Undress you, Sir, you mean?  Touch. 
There's a piece of Conceit too: well, every thing must have a beginning ---- How now Mil?  Enter Mildred. Mil. 
How fare you, Sir, this Morning? has not the Noise disturbed you? it was my Mother's humour.  Touch. 
So now, here's all the sober parcel my Family can show; the rest of my House are giddy, the very Stairs and Walls stagger ---- thy Mother, Mil, has used me to Noise, I thank her. Let me see now, let me survey your two Physiognomies; some Resemblance upon my Honour: Golding, I can tell thee for thy comfort, thou wilt come to be an Alderman; I see by that thriving Sheeps-face of thine.  Gold. 
Your Worship thinks too favourably of me.  Touch. 
Come hither, Mil; what think'st thou of thy Sister?  Mil. 
As a Sister, Sir; I hope well.  Touch. 
I would not give a Button for thy hopes of her, nor my own neither; but tell me what thou think'st of her?  Mil. 
I am loath to think ill, Sir; and sorry that I cannot speak well.  Touch. 
Very good: and, Golding, how likest thou the Knight, Sir Flash? Does not the Elephant look big? They say, he has a Castle in the Country.  Gold. 
Pray Heaven the Elephant carry not his Castle on his Back, Sir; the best I can say of him is, that I know him not.  Touch. 
Golding, I commend thee, I approve thee, and I will make it appear that my Affection is strong to thee ---- My Wife has had her humour, and I will have mine. Dost thou see my Daughter there? she is not fair, not very fair, somewhat favourable like me ---- her Face, I must tell thee, has a great Blessing with it; that it will give thee no reason to suspect her ---- look you, thou art towardly, she is modest; thou art provident, she is careful ---- she's now Mine, give me thy Hand ---- she is now Thine; Work upon that now.  Gold. 
Sir, I had too much Honour in your Service;  
But to make me your Son—  Touch. 
Is to get me a Grandson, I take it. Come, ye modest Fools, I must have you better acquainted: Lip her, slave, Lip her; what? dost thou pauze upon the Matter? why, there's thy Fellow-servant Francis, would have come over for the King with half this Encouragement.  Gold. 
I scarcely, Sir, durst trust my happiness.  Touch. 
Nay, I was never forward to meddle with any thing that I durst not, truth of it; let me see, Thou hast a kind of a serious leering look too; a little too much Modesty at present; but when thou art Married I warrant thou wilt— ha!— Thou wilt— what was I a going to say now— go, get you gone, you little tynie Rogues; get you gone together.  [Exeunt Gold. and Mild. Enter Quicksilver disordered. Quick. 
Halo, you pampered Jades of Asia.  Touch. 
Why, how now, Sirrah? what vein is this? ha!  Quick. 
Who cries on Murder? Lady, was it you?  Touch. 
So, Sirrah, you are past your drunker Hiccough now, I see.  Quick. 
And what's that to you, blind Bitch? will you mount the Trojan Horse, and drive the Pigmies like Geese before you?  Touch. 
Drunk, upon my Honour; stark Drunk.  Quick. 
'Tis for my Master's Honour, Strumpet.  Touch. 
I am told too, you keep a Whore in Town.  Quick. 
'Tis for my Master's Credit— Kiss me Bawd— I will salute thy precious Person; I will salute thy nether Lip.  Touch. 
The Knave is loving in his Drink. ----- Nay, fie; pish, fie; I do protest I will cry out a Rape.  Quick. 
Dost thou hear, Doxy? Old Touchstone is a Cuckold.  Touch. 
Mercy on me! an Alderman a Cuckold ----- past Grace, that's certain. I must proceed to Execution ----- There's Ense rescidendum for you, Sirrah; there's your Indentures; all your Apparel that I know of is upon your Back; and so my Heart and Doors henceforth are shut upon thee.  Quick. 
Am I free then? Old Satan, I will tell thee  Touch. 
What now, Sirrah?  Quick. 
When this eternal substance of my Soul—  Touch. 
What then, Sir?  Quick. 
I was a Courtier in the Spanish Court, and Don Andrea was my Name.  Touch. 
Good Master, Don Andrea, will you march?  Quick. 
I will piss upon thy Threshold, and throw rotten Eggs against thy Signpost— ha! dost thou shake thy gory Locks at me?— avaunt, I say.  Touch. 
Help! Murder, murder.  [Exeunt severally.  

SCENE II. Security House.  Security and his Wife Playing at Putt, Sindefy by them. Sec. 
There's up, Wynny, there's up; Come give me my Win.  [Kisses her: 
Look you there now; is not this better than to throw away Guinneys at heathenish Bassett, and Comett? there is no Game, for Invention, like Put and One and Thirty: My Sow has Pigged too, is a notable piece of Skill.  Enter Clog. Sec. 
Now, Sirrah, where have you been loitering all this while? let me see, thou hast been a whole half hour, five minutes, and three crotchets completely.  Clog. 
Master Quicksilver, Sir, is drowned at present in the Bride-Bowl.  Sec. 
And hast thou been at Mr. Bramble's Chamber in the Temple?  Clog. 
Yes, Sir, ' has dispatched his Client, and only stays for a Fee on the other side too, before he waits upon you.  Sec. 
Fees on both sides may make a reasonable Livelihood ----- Come nearer, Sirrah; and breathe upon me— Wine, Wine upon my Conscience; would you think it, Mrs. Synon? this Rogue has tasted Wine; swallowed it.  Syn. 
O, most unconscionable Hound!  Clog. 
A single Pint, Sir, between a Friend and I.  Sec. 
And you Treated? Sixpence at a sitting, Rogue?  Clog. 
Once in Seven years, Sir.  Sec. 
Once in Seven years, Varlet? dost thou know what that amounts to? Thou art a lusty young Knave, and scaping Tyburn, may'st live this Seventy years yet. I will demonstrate to thee Sixpence once in every Seven years, Use upon Use, will in that time arise to Twenty four Pound Twelve Shillings. What a Fortune art thou fallen from— Thou hast seen this Mr. Bramble, Wynny, an unconscionable old Rogue, that keeps his Wife locked up.  Wyn. 
Why then do you use me so?  Sec. 
I do it out of Love, my Bunting; that Knave does it out of Jealousy.  Wyn. 
As if you were not Jealous.  Sec. 
Not Jealous in the least; I am only afraid thou shouldst make me a Cuckold.  Wyn. 
Come, Cue; you promised I should go abroad the next fair Day, to the Music-house in the Fields.  Sec. 
It is not worth thy Pains, my Goldfinch; Look you, I can make you ten times better Music.  The Froe She won an Excise, etc. Wyn. 
Ay, but there is a pretty Play in Moorfields.  Sec. 
Why, I will act thee a better Play myself. What wilt thou have? The Knight of the Burning Pestle? or, The doleful Comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe? That's my Masterpiece; when Pyramus comes to be dead, I can act a dead man rarely, The raging Rocks, and shivering Shocks, shall break the Locks of Prison Gates; And Phoebus Carr, shall shine from Far, to make and mar the foolish Fates.— Was not that lofty, now? Then there's the Lion, Wall and Moonshine, three Heroic Parts; I Played 'em all at School. I roared out the Lion so terribly, that the Company called out to me to roar again.  Wyn. 
ay, Cue; but there is the Italian Piece, at Charing-Cross.  Sec. 
You mean Punch, my intimate Friend and Acquaintance? I knew Old Punch his Grandfather ----- you shall see.  [He Acts Punch. Syn. 
Clog, get me a Squib to complete the Sport.  [Syndesie lays the Squib under his Chair, and blows him up. Quicksilver enters upon them. Quick. 
Why, how now Dad? what merry Pranks are these?  Sec. 
Nothing, nothing, Francis; a little conjugal Conceit for my Wife's Diversion ---- ah Lard, that my Gravity should be so apprehended ----- Come up, Wynny, ---- come to thy Chamber.  [Leads her out. Quick. 
Now, my dear Sin, I am free as Elemental Air; the Indented Sheep-skin's Burnt, in which I was wrapped; like Samson, I have broke Philistian Bonds, and in thy Arms, my lovely Dalilah ----- Come, let my Trunks shoot forth their Silks concealed, and deck me like a Bridegroom.  [She brings forth his Periwigg, Crevat, Sword, etc. and puts them on him. Syn. 
But alas, Frank, how will this Bravery be maintained now? your Place maintained it before.  Quick. 
Why? and I maintained my Place.  Syn. 
There is no standing without Legs, nor flying without Wings, Frank; there's none but must have Trades to live withal.  Quick. 
Away with your mouldy Proverbs, Trades to live withal? No, I say, still let him that has Wit, live by his Wit; and he that has none, let him be a Tradesman.  Enter Security. Sec. 
Witty, Master Francis! Indeed 'tis pity any Trade should dull that quick Brain of yours— Well, do but bring Knight Petronell into my Parchment Toils, and you shall never need to drudge in any Trade— o' my Credit, you shall not; I do hunger and thirst to do thee good— Dost thou know his Wife's Land? dost thou?  Quick. 
Even to a foot, Sir; I have been often there. A very fine Seat, good Land, all entire within itself.  Sec. 
Well wooded, Frank? well wooded?  Quick. 
Seven hundred Pounds worth ready to Fell, and a fine sweet House that stands just in the midst of it, like a point in the middle of a Circle.  Sec. 
Excellent Master Francis! how I long to do the good! I even die, that thou may'st inherit my Possessions— for, on my Religion, Master Francis, I meddle in this affair to do the Knight a Pleasure; and so pray tell him.  Quick. 
Get him the Money ready then, Dad; for inter nos, all that he was able of himself to raise, is laid out on a Ship now bound for Virginia; the manner of which Voyage is so closely laid, that neither his Lady-Bride, nor any of her Friends know of it. Therefore as soon as her Hand is gotten to the Sale of the Inheritance, and you have furnished him with the Money, he will instantly hoist Sail and away.  Sec. 
And a frank gale go with him, Master Frank ---- alas, we have too few such Knights Adventurers; let his Wife Seal to Day, he shall have the Money to Day.  Quick. 
This very Morning she intends for the Country to work, to which Action, with more Engines, I purpose presently to prefer my sweet Sin here to her, for her Gentlewoman; whom you, for better Credit, shall present as your Kinswoman, newly come up to learn Fashions.  Sec. 
On my Religion, a most pithy Project; as good she spoil the Lady, as the Lady spoil her ----- Sin, you are bound to Master Francis.  Quick. 
Look you, here is the Knight come already.  Enter Sir Petronell with a Writing. Pet. 
I'll leave this fulsome Town immediately, here's no Diversion stirring; Wit is at low Ebb, and Wickedness at a stand; I will away immediately.  Quick. 
You would do well to take some Guinneys in your Pocket, Knight, or your Eastward Castle will smoke but miserably.  Pet. 
My Castle? why, thou know'st, Frank, that all my Castles are in the Air.  Quick. 
Why? whither is your Lady going then?  Pet. 
I'faith to seek her Fortune; I think I told her I had a Castle Eastward, and Eastward she will go; her Coach, and the Coach of the Sun must meet full Butt.  Quick. 
But how will you pacify her, Knight, when her Enchanted House becomes invisible.  Pet. 
I warrant you, 'tis but telling her she mistook my Directions, and that I will shortly down with her myself; in the mean time, 'tis but clapping a new Gown upon her Crupper—  Sec. 
Right, Sir.  Quick. 
Well said, Old Dad;— a 'mongst Friends, Knight, where have you made your choice? the King's-Bench, or which of the two Compters? for my part, I like neither of them.  Pet. 
There is no jesting, Frank, with my Necessity. Thou know'st, that if I raise not present Money for my Voyage, all's lost with me.  Quick. 
Why, that's the very Point, Sir; get but your Lady to set her Hand to the Sale of her Inheritance, and my old Bloodhound here, shall smell out ready Money instantly.  Pet. 
There spoke my Angel. I have brought her to it, and feigning myself most extremely amorous, have urged Excuses for my stay behind. Child was never so impatient to ride a Cockhorse, than she is to handsel her new Coach with a Journey.  Quick. 
She would long for every thing, when she was a Maid. I'll lay my life she will have four Children every year; what Charge and Humour must you endure that while? and how will she hold you to your Tackle, till she is with Child?  Sec. 
Nay, there is no Turnspit Dog bound to his Wheel more servilely, than you will be to hers; for as the Dog never climbs to the top of his Wheel, but when the Wheel comes under him; so— you understand me, Sir.  Quick. 
Well said, Old Dad, again; nay, hark you, Sir; what Nurses, what Midwives, what Fools, what Physicians, what Cunning-Women and Cronies, to tell her Tales, talk Bawdy to her, make her Laugh, let her Blood—  Pet. 
Prithee no more: What a Death is my Life bound face to face unto? the best on't is, that a large time-fitted Conscience is bound to Nothing. This Indian Voyage will set all to Rights— but see she comes to seek me out, and take her leave of me.  Sec. 
And Mr. Bramble in the very Nick too; get her to Seal immediately; for I do hunger and thirst to do you good, Sir.  Enter Mrs. Touchstone, Girtred, Bramble, Sindefy: Girtred in a Chair, with Page and Attendants. Gir. 
Further, ye dull English Blockheads, further. If I were but Lady Mayoress, you must have brought me past the Portico— Your Servant, Gentlemen.  All. 
Your Ladyship's most humble Servants.  Gir. 
What a Bloom am I in all over? give me my Fan; I protest I am in general Damp.  Mrs. T. 
Here is your Ladyship's Handkerchief, Madam.  Gir. 
Thank you, Mrs. Touchstone— Well, my dear Knight, I'll take notice of you in Company now, because it is within our Month; but hereafter, as I am a Lady, you must not expect it; it is not Alamode for Persons of our Quality.  Pet. 
We will be careful to neglect each other, Madam.  Sec. 
I have a humble suit to your Ladyship.  Gir. 
You are welcome— but hold, you must not put on your Hat yet; Master Francis Quicksilver,— as I am a Lady, I did not know him: he makes me blush so, that my Eyes stand with Water; would I were unmarried again.  Quick. 
I hope your Ladyship has no reason to repent—  Gir. 
No; but you know the first sight of a Bride puts strange Thoughts— what were you saying, Sir?  Sec. 
That your Ladyship would please to accept my Kinswoman here, to your Service; she's newly come up out of the Country.  Gir. 
Is she a Gentlewoman?  Sec. 
She is, Madam; and one that her Father has a mind to bestow in some honourable Lady's Service too—  Gir. 
To learn Breeding.  Mrs. T. 
And surely you have a discreet Choice in preferring her to her Ladyship.  Gir. 
We supposed that, Mrs. Touchstone: These City Gentlewomen are so forward --- And can you do any Work that belongs to a Lady's Chamber?  Syn. 
What I cannot do, I shall be glad to learn, Madam.  Gir. 
And d'ye hear— Old Gentleman, you may put on your Hat now, I do not look on you— I must have you of my Faction, not of my Knights, to draw all the Servants to my Bow, to tell me Tales, put me Riddles, read Aristotle while I am dressing, to laugh extremely at the Country Gentlewomen when they have made me Visits, to take no Care what is spent in the House, for it is all mine; and in any Case to be still a Maid whatever you do, and whatever any Man can do to you.  Syn. 
I am your Creature, Madam.  Gir. 
Very well, you shall ride down in my Coach with me immediately— is it not come yet? upon my Quality, I think I am with Child already, I long so for my Coach. Can I be with Child so soon, Mrs. Touchstone?  Pet. 
But will your Ladyship be gone before I can possibly wait on you?  Gir. 
Let me, dear Knight: I d' so long to dress up thy Castle before thou com'st.  Mrs. T. 
But must this little man, Madam, run all the Way a foot?  Gir. 
I warrant him; He gives no other Milk, as yet.  Mrs. T. 
Methinks 'tis pity: Good Madam, buy him a Hobby-horse; let the poor Knave have something.  Gir. 
You are impertinent, Mrs. Touchstone.  Page. 
Your Coach is come, Madam.  Gir. 
Is my Coach come? why, that's well said: methinks I am up to the Knees in Preferment: farewell, Knight.  Pet. 
Will not your Ladyship be pleased first to Sign a slight Paper here?  Gir. 
What is it?  Pet. 
A Deed of Sale of your Country Seat: Mine is more large, and stands more pleasantly, only the Arras being something faded, must now be changed to Wainscot; and now for a Lady's Bedchamber Alcoves are all the Fashion.  Gir. 
I will have it all laid out upon my Castle; give me the Pen.  [She signs the Paper. Mrs. T. 
What is your Ladyship a doing?  Gir. 
Interrogating again, Mrs. Touchstone?  Mrs. T. 
I will wait on your Ladyship to your Coach: I shall never sleep till I hear your Ladyship is safe in your Castle, Madam, and that you live safe there too.  Gir. 
Fear it not, Mrs. Touchstone: There were Giants in it formerly, but my Knight has killed 'em all.  Mrs. T. 
And therefore he was Knighted, I presume.  Gir. 
Upon my Honour the Day wears apace; come Chairmen carry me to my Coach— Adieu, Knight— upon my Quality you shall not stir one step.  Servants. 
Heaven bless your Ladyship.  Gir. 
Thankyou, good People, thank you.  [She is carried round the Stage and so off bowing to the Company from each side of her Chair. Quick. 
Was there ever such an Adventure?  Pet. 
Why this, I hope, is not the first false Journey that a Lady has taken in her Coach.  Sec. 
But when her Knight is upon a real Voyage.—  Enter a Sailor. Sail. 
Sir Petronell, where are you? Captain Seagult stays for you on Board; it will be Flood within this two hours.  Pet. 
We shall be time enough to reach Black-wall, where our Ship lies, against Tide.  [Exit Sailor. 
Master Security, you see the urgency of my Affair; meet me an hour hence at the Swan Tavern by Billingsgate, with your Money; and these shall there be made over to you: and, Mr. Bramble, we must desire your Presence at the Delivery.  Bramble. 
You have no further Service for me, Gossip?  Sec. 
Nothing at present, Gossip.  [Exit Bramble. 
Did you observe that peaching Pettifogger, Gentlemen? a Jealous old Hunks, that locks up his Wife.  [Wynifred looks from above. Wyn. 
Cue, Where is my Cue, there?  Sec. 
Here Bunting.  Wyn. 
Won't you come Put with me above Stairs, Cue?  Sec. 
I am busy, Bunting.  Wyn. 
But oneword, Cue.  Sec. 
Gentlemen, I will along with you immediately.  [Exit. [As he is going up, She calls to Sir Petr. throws him down a Letter, and retires. Petr. 
There is the Remora to my Voyage, Frank,— how shall I sail and leave my Heart behind?— See here. [Reads.  
I have overheard your Voyage, and would share your Adventure; deliver me from this Enchanted Castle, as you are a true Knight Errand.  
Now Frank, my subtle Mercury, instruct me;  
This were of a Masterpiece of rare Invention,  
Could I but get this Helen once aboard,  
Not Paris past the Seas with half such Pride.  Quick. 
I have a sudden lucky thought.  Pet. 
It is impossible, our time's so short; The Husband's watch is so shy upon her while he is within, and when he goes forth, he comes directly to us. Rust choke him, he's here again.  Quick. 
Leave me to work him.  Sec. 
Come Gentlemen, shall we dispatch? to the Tavern I know our noble Knight will pay his Way: we'll take up the Money as we go; I am impatient till I do him good.  Quick. 
The Knight will Treat most freely. But first, Dad, we have a weighty Secret to impart to you in which we must have your wise Assistance. This Gentleman, my Friend, has enjoyed a Gentlewoman whom you well know—  Sec. 
How's that? a Gentlewoman whom I well know?  Quick. 
The Woman is your learned Council's Wife, Mr. Bramble, that was here e'en now.  Sec. 
Why? he deserves it, Frank; for keeping her locked up. I could contribute to my learned Council's Cuckoldom; but you say, the Gentleman has enjoyed her already; wherein then can I assist him further?  Quick. 
He wants to take the dear farewell; and therefore, Dad, if you will but take pains to bring out Mr. Council, your Gossip, to the Tavern where we are to meet—  Sec. 
Nay, I would have him present at the delivery of the Deed.  Quick. 
I will watch his coming out, and bring his Wife disguised into our Company; think but what Sport 'twill be to gull his Circumspection.  Sec. 
On my Religion, a most pithy Project! who would not strain a point of Friendship for such a neat Device? ha! ha! ha! and the sport will be to hear me Bob and Cut upon him.  Pet. 
Was there ever such an old Villain? it works rarely.  Sec. 
To overreach that Head that over-reaches all Heads, will be a Plot rampant; well, I hope this Harvest to pitch Carts with Lawyers, their Heads shall be so forked.  Pet. 
But how shall we disguise her on the sudden?  Quick. 
A Sailor's Gown and Cap, and Player's Beard.  Pet. 
But how shall she make bare her head, when thou presentest her to our Company? I think it best not to have her appear.  Sec. 
Not for the World, I must have her coram; the very Soul o'th' mirth is lost else— I have hit it; you shall see, Gentlemen, what an old Brain can do; I'll fetch you a Disguise.  [Goes out, and immediately Reenters. 
Look, Gentlemen, here is my Wife's best Gown, which you may put upon the Lawyer's Wife; and for her Face it shall be masked.  Pet. 
Most excellent.  Sec. 
And for doing this, I have two Politic Reasons. One is, That Mr. Bramble may thereby have some suspicion that it is my Wife; and thereupon gird me with his Lawyer's Wit. The other Reason is, That I shall be sure of my own Wife's staying at home the while; for she will never go abroad undressed; d'ye mark me.  Pet. 
With Admiration.  Sec. 
Is it not rare? was I not born to furnish Gentlemen? Come hither, Clog.  Clog. 
Here, Sir.  Sec. 
Take this Key, and let your Mistress down into this Room for Air, till I come home again.  [Gives him the Key. Quick. 
Do you hear that, Knight, he'll leave her freedom of the House till he returns; so that as soon as he goes out to the Lawyers, I will slip in hither again with these clothes of his Wife's, dress her up in them, and bring her masked to the Tavern, while he shall suppose her the Lawyer's.  Sec. 
Gentlemen, I will but send to Mr. Cash to have our Money ready against I come from my Gossips.  [Exit. Quick. 
You see, Knight, we have shammed my Dad here, with a Pretence on his Gossip's Wife; what will you say if I make Earnest of it, and deliver that Lady from her enchanted Castle too?  Pet. 
And so to go aboard with us? that were a Masterpiece.  Quick. 
We have been private Acquaintance too: I have sent a pretended Attorney with a Shame Sub-Poena for her to be Witness in a Cause this Afternoon, at the same time that Mr. Council is to be with us at the Swan with your Deed; and rather than have her forfeit for Non-Appearance he will let her come abroad; by which means she will have Opportunity of meeting me by the Waterside.  Pet. 
Most admirable! what a History shall we leave behind us, Frank?  Re-enter Security. Sec. 
Come, Gentlemen, shall we be stirring?  Quick. 
How impatient he is, as 'twere the Devil going to fetch the Lawyer.  Pet. 
And Devil He shall be, if Horns can make him.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE III. A Tavern.  Captain Seagull, with other Sailors. C. Sea. 
Come, Drawer, Pierce your neatest Hogsheads, and let us have Entertainment fit for our noble Colonel: He'll be here instantly.  Draw. 
You shall have all things to your wish, Sir: will't please ye to have more Wine?  C. Sea. 
Without measure, Slave; whether we drink it or no, spill it and draw more.  1 Sail. 
Well spoken, noble Captain.  C. Sea. 
Fill all your Pots and Bottles; rank 'em like Soldiers, and though we do not presently employ 'em, we'll keep 'em in Pay till we do.  Draw. 
You shall have all you will Command, Sir.  [Ex. Drawer. C. Sea. 
Come Boys, this Indian Cantlet longs till we have its Maidenhead.  2 Sail. 
But is there such Treasure there, as we are told?  C. Sea. 
Vast endless Mines: for so much red Copper as I carry thither, I will have thrice the weight in Gold. They hinge their Doors with it, and bar their Windows.  1 Sail. 
But do you meet no Clipticks nor Tropiques by the way? I pray what sort of things are they?  C. Sea. 
Why, monstrous Creatures; not much unlike your Elephant; but there is your Calenture is more inclining to a Dragon.  2 Sail. 
And is it a pleasant Country Captain?  C. Sea. 
As ever the Sun shined on; you have Autumn, Winter, Spring. Summer there, all without any change of Seasons, and that you'd wonder at.  1. Sail. 
And what Government, good Captain?  C. Sea. 
You shall live free there without Sergeants, Lawyers, or Intelligencers; you may be an Alderman, without being a Scavinger; attain any Office, without ' Prenticeship; you may come to Preferment, without being a Pimp; to Riches and Fortune enough and have never the more Villainy nor the less Wit. In a word, you will have no more Law than Conscience, and not too much of either.  2 Sail. 
And how far thither, Captain?  C. Sea. 
Some six Weeks Sail with an Indifferent Wind, and if I get to the Coast of Africa, I'll Sail with any Wind; or if we make the Cape Finister, we have a foreright Wind till we come thither— But see our noble Colonel!  Enter Sir Petronell. Pet. 
Well met, good Captain Seagull, and my noble Gentlemen; now our sweet hour of freedom is at hand: Come Drawer, fill us our Bumpers, to raise us for the mirth that will be occasioned presently— Here will be a pretty Wench, Gentlemen, that will bear us Company all our Voyage.  C. Sea. 
To her health, noble Colonel, with Cap and Knee.  Pet. 
Thank you, good Captain, she's one whom I love dearly; but must not have her known till we are aboard; and so, Gentlemen, here's to her Health.  Amb. 
Let it come, worthy Colonel, we do both thirst and hunger for it.  Pet. 
Right, Sirs, you hit the very Phrase of him that is my Pimp and Cuckold too; though both unwittingly. About with it.  Enter Security, Bramble, and Wax. Sec. 
See there, Gossip Bramble, their Voyage needs must prosper; they are on their Knees for success to it— Save my brave Colonel, and his tall Captains: see, Sir, my learned Gossip Council Bramble, is come to take his leave of you.  Pet. 
A Health to my learned Council.  Sec. 
You must bend too Gossip.  C. Sea. 
By your leave, Sir, he must not Pledge his own Health.  Sec. 
No, Master Captain;  Enter Quicksilver, with Wynifred Disguised. 
Then here is one sitly come to do him that Honour.  Quick. 
Here is the Gentlewoman your Cousin, Sir, whom with much entreaty, I have brought to take her leave of you in a Tavern; and for that Reason the Company must excuse her that she puts not off her Masque.  Pet. 
Pardon me, dear Cousin, my hurry and haste of business at my going, forced me to give you this Trouble.  Wyn. 
Thanks to your good Contrivance, my dear Cousin.  [Puts off her Mask to him aside, and puts it on again. Bramb. 
Come hither, Wax,— Here, take the Key of your mistress's Chamber, 'tis high time for her to attend the Court; I must not have her forfeit: Be sure you stir not from her: And as soon as she has done witnessing, see her Home again; Lock her up in her Chamber again, and bring me the Key to my Gossip Security.  Sec. 
How's that, Mr. Francis? have you honoured the Company with the Presence of a fair Gentlewoman?  Fran. 
Pray Sir, take you no notice of her; for I can assure you, she will not be known to you.  Sec. 
Good; but my learned Gossip Council Bramble here, I hope may know her? ha! ha! ha!  Fran. 
No more than you at present, his Learning must Pardon her.  Sec. 
Heaven Pardon her, and for my part, I do.  Wyn. 
I am glad to hear that.  Sec. 
And so, Mr. Francis, Here's to all this good Company that goes Eastward, presently towards Cuckold'-Haven— not forgetting my learned Gossip Bramble.  Fran. 
Has it gone round, Gentlemen?  Pet. 
It has, dear Frank; and terminates in thee.  Fran. 
Then then here is Eastward, Gentlemen, and so to Cuckold's-Haven.  Sec. 
Ha! ha! ha!  Bramb. 
What can this mean? that word strikes Terror through me.  Pet. 
Prithee, Cousin, weep no more— Master Security.  Sec. 
What says my dear Knight?  Pet. 
Our Friend, Mrs. Bramble here, is so dissolved in Tears, that she drowns the whole Mirth of our Meeting; I do beseech you speak to her.  Sec. 
'Tis shame and pity, Mrs Bramble; what weep in Presence of your Love? What's the Cause, Lady? is it because your Husband is so near?  Wyn. 
Yes.  Sec. 
And your Heart earns that you have a little abused him?  Wyn. 
Indeed.  Sec. 
Alas, the Offence is too common to be regarded.  Wyn. 
That's true.  Sec. 
You are to blame to heed a jealous Dotard.  Wyn. 
Right.  Sec. 
To steal to a young Lover.  Wyn. 
Certainly.  Sec. 
Ha! ha! ha! Once more to Cuckolds'-Haven, Gentlemen,— you'll Pledge me, Gossip? let's have a frisk of footing too: Come, have you pledged Cuckold's-Haven, Gossip?  Fran. 
Strike up there.  [Here they all Dance, and compass Wynifred in. Sec. 
Sir Petronell, your Cousin here is still in Tears; pray take her aside a little and comfort her.  Pet. 
With your fair leave, Mr. Security.  Sec. 
Most heartily.  [He Locks in Sir Petr. and his Wife together. 
Come Sirs, anothér Round; He that refuses to be drunk to Night, let him be never Sober.  [While the rest Drink, he goes harkening to the Door. 
About with it, 'tis to Sir Petronell, and all his Captains— you want it, Gossip. This Cuckold's-Haven runs so in my mind.  Bramb. 
But hark you, Gossip, is not that Gentlewoman your Wife, that's gone in with the Knight?  Sec. 
Why should you think so, Gossip?  Bramb. 
Because the shape and dress are very like.  Sec. 
Cucullus non facit Monachum, my Learned Council; All are not Cuckolds that seem so, nor do all seem so that are so— Oh, I break my Ribs!  Sir Petronell and Wynifred Re-enter. 
So, now Colonel and Captains, a good Voyage to you, Adieu: I know you do not go my Way to Night, Gossip— This Cuckold's-Haven runs so in my Head.  [Exit Security. Bramb. 
There is some Mystery in this; I must needs after him to be satisfied. Adieu, Gentlemen.  [Exit. Drawer. 
Sir Petronell, here is one of your Watermen come to tell you it is Flood, and that it will be dangerous going against Tide; for the Skies are overcast, and there was a Porpiece seen just now below the Bridge.  Pet. 
No matter, we can reach Blackwall against Tide, and in spite of Tempests. Come, one Round more, Gentlemen, while I discharge the House.  All. 
About with it.  Pet. 
Enough: Now Charge a Boat. Come, my fair Helen.  All. 
A Boat, a Boat, a Boat.  [Exeunt. SCENE Changes to Security's House. Enter Security and Clog. Sec. 
Come, Clog, help on with my Gown and Cap— so, very well;  [Shuts him out. 
What a notable Device was this? well, what with the Conceit of it, and my Wine together, methinks I am somewhat exhilarated, and feel as it were an Inclination to Conjugal Performance: My Bunting will be surprised extremely— Dost hear, Lark, Linnet, Goldfinch— This is ever her way, always at her Devotion in my Absence; I must disturb her.  [Opens the Closet Door. 
Nobody here?— Clog, Rogue, Vermin.  Enter Clog. Clog. 
What is your Worship's pleasure?  Sec. 
Where is your Mistress, Varlet?  Clog. 
Abroad Sir.  Sec. 
Abroad without my leave? then I am certainly a Cuckold. What, go abroad in her Night Dress?  Clog. 
In her Best clothes, Sir.  Sec. 
How's that? How came she by 'em?  Clog. 
Your Friend, Sir, Master Quicksilver brought 'em in hither, stayed till she put 'em on, and then took Coach with her, I heard 'em bid the Coachman drive to the Tavern at the Bridge foot.  Sec. 
Monstrum horrendum: my Gossip was in the Right: what a Trap have I laid for myself? why, then she is not only Whored; but for aught I know, spirited away to the Indies.  Clog. 
She cried, indeed, farewell for ever, Cage.  Sec. 
I'll Blow up Rocks steep as the Alps in Dust,  
And lave the Tyrrhene Waters into Clouds,  
But I will reach them.  Enter Bramble. Bramb. 
The Matter Gossip? what transports you so?  Sec. 
Undone for ever, Gossip; 'twas my Wife; on my Religion I thought she was yours. Call me Ten Coaches, and as many Constables, I will to this wicked place again, and seize the Traitors.  Bramb. 
They are all upon the Thames e'er now, and if that Lady was your Wife, she's in the Boat with 'em.  Sec. 
I'll take Boat after 'em, and fire their Ship.  Bramb. 
Take Boat in this tempestuous Night? Hark, how it Rains and Thunders.  Sec. 
I care not for the Wether, I will Row after to Blackwall.  Bramb. 
And pray touch in at Cuekold's-Haven, Gossip.  Sec. 
Furies and Fate— but hold, I must see first if she ha' taken any of my rich Pawns along with her.  [Exit. Bramb. 
Well for my Gossip, to intend my Wife, and get himself Cornuted! ha, ha, ha.— How now, Wax?  Enter Wax. Wax. 
Oh! where is my Master Bramble? my poor Master, Bramble?  Bramb. 
What now, Sirrah? hast thou neither Eyes nor Ears?  Wax. 
Sir, I have no Senses left! Oh, Sir, your Wife, my Mistress!  Bramb. 
Why, Sirrah, did not I give you the Key to lock her up at Home, as soon as she had witnessed?  Wax. 
O, Sir, there was no witnessing; her Sub-Poena was all Shame, instead of going to Westminster, she drove to Pater-noster-Row, where she took up Silks in your Name by whole Pieces, and so on to the Goldsmiths in Cheapsiae, and Goldsmiths in Lumbard-street, where she took up Rings and Jewels, all in your Name still; from thence she went to the Swan at Bridge-foot, where Mr. Quicksilver met her, took her to the Water, and instead of coming back Westward by Coach, she's gone Eastward by Boat; Oh! ho! ho!  Bramb. 
Dar'st thou live to tell me this, Rogue? thy Name is Wax, Thou shouldst have stuck to her.  Wax. 
I did, Sir, till they pushed me off with their Oars, and soused me in the Mudd.  Bramb. 
I'll Blow up Rocks steep as the Alps in Dust,  
And lave the Tyrrhene Waters into Clouds;  
But I will reach'em.  Re-enter Security. 
O, Whore unconscionable! what? Silks, Rings, and Jewels, to such a Quantity, along with her.  Sec. 
Even so, Gossip, she has taken all with her.  Bramb. 
Mock me not, Gossip, I mean my Wife.  Sec. 
My Wife, that's run away by Water.  Bramb. 
Mine's run away by Water too.  Sec. 
Yours go too!  Bramb. 
Call me Ten Boats, I'll after'em, and fire their Ship.  Sec. 
What in this tempstuous Night? hark, how it Rains and Thunders.  Bramb. 
I do defy all weathers; I'll after to Blackwall.  Sec. 
And pray call in at Cuckold's-Haven, Gossip.  Bramb. 
Furies and Fate!— a Boat! a Boat! a Boat!  Sec. 
A Boat! a Boat! a Boat!  [Exeunt severally.  
The End of the Second Act.   

SONG.  

HOw great are the Blessings of Government made,  
By the excellent Rule of our Prince?  
Who, while Trouble and Cares do his Pleasures invade,  
To his People all Joy does dispense:  
And while He for us is still carking and thinking,  
We have nothing to Mind, but our Shops and our Trade,  
And then to divert us with Drinking.   

From him we derive all our Pleasure and Wealth:  
Then fill me a Glass, nay, fill it up higher,  
My Soul is a thirst for His Majesty's Health,  
And an Ocean of Drink can't quench my Desire:  
Since all we Enjoy, to his Bounty we Owe,  
'Tis fit all our Bumpers like that should O'erflow.    


ACT III. SCENE I.  Cuckold's Point. Enter a Butcher's Man with a Pair of Ox Horns. Butch. 
HAil, thou fair Haven of Married Men; for my part, I presume not to arrive here, but only in Right of my Master, who sent me thus early to put up these necessary Ensigns of his Homage.  [He climbs the Tree. 
Stand fast, good Timber, or I shall be blown into the Thames: I think the Devils be abroad in a Storm to rob me of my Horns. The Thames roars like any Ocean-Sea. Mercy on all honest Passengers. So, I think I have made it look the right way, it fronts the City directly. How now, Tom?  Enter another loaden with Hides. Tom. 
No venturing by Water yet: Here has been most bloody work to Night.  Butch. 
As how, prithee?  Tom. 
Why, several People Drowned.  Butch. 
What did none 'scape?  Tom. 
Not one of them that were Drowned, for all that I can yet hear: just by the Fisher's Hutt below yonder, there was a Boat overturned, three Men Passengers and a Gentlewoman. You may see 'em all shifted into the Old Fisherman's Wardrobe; but the Woman wisely went to Bed.  Butch. 
Hark! what Cry is that?  Tom. 
A poor old Man in Gown and Nightcap, just crawled out of the River.  Enter Security. Sec. 
Misfortune upon Misfortune, I have a hundred Drums in my Head; and half the Thames in my Belly— Let me see, where am I cast ashore, that I may go home a righter way by Land? where is there any seamark, that I am acquainted withal?  Butch. 
Look up, Father, are you acquainted with this Ensign?  Sec. 
What am I Landed at Cuckold's Point? I cannot bear it: I will run back and drown myself.  Tom. 
Let it be in some warmer liquour, Father: Come, we'll lead you to the next House.  Sec. 
I will enter into no House, and look no Mortal in the Face; they are all Cuckold-makers.  Butch. 
How his Wits are benumbed with Wet and Cold, throw a Hide over him, Tom, and help lead him along.  [Exeunt leading him. Enter Sir Petronell, Quicksilver, and Seagull, in Fisherman's clothes and Nets wrapped about them. Pet. 
A very fair Voyage we have made on't, my Masters; if our Throats had not been too full of Claret to take in one drop of Water, we had lodged with the Flounders till our Calls had burst: well, 'tis but imagining we are arrived at some Outlandish Place, and these the Habits of the Country.  Capt. Sea. 
I tell ye, Sirs, for all this we are gotten to the Coast of Normandy, I know it by the Elevation of the Pole, and the Altitude of the Climate; this is nothing with us Sailors: I have been Drowned forty times in my Life, before now.  Quick. 
One dry Hanging had done us better Service, Captain: How much Weight of Gold can you get for red Copper in this Country, Captain?  Pet. 
Why, we have just as much Copper as Gold left, Frank; the unmerciful Thames has swallowed All. Our Boat turned oftener than a Juggler's bag, and rolled like any Porpice. Now if my Lady Wife has had as good a Land Passage on't, as we have had by Water.  Enter Bailiffs. 1 Bay. 
These must be the Persons; Seize 'em: You have been soused in the Thames, Gentlemen, and a particular Friend of yours has sent us to take you out of the Cold Air.  Pet. 
A Pox of your Charity; what damned luck had we that could not Drown.  Quick. 
At whose Arrest, Scoundrels?  2 Bay. 
Only Alderman Touchstone desires to take his leave of you before you Sail to the Indies; will you march along, Gentlemen.  Quick. 
This must be the Coast of Normandy, Captain; you know it by the Elevation of the Pole.  Enter more Officers, with Security in the Ox Hide. 1 Bay. 
See, yonder comes our Mates with old Mammon.  Pet. 
Why, there's some Comfort yet.  2 Bay. 
Come, Brothers, let us home with the whole Covey together.  Sec. 
Rogues, Turks, Tartars, I will not drive one step further. This is Cuckold's-Haven, and I will die on my own Territories.  1 Bay. 
Away with them.  [Exeunt leading them off.  

SCENE II. Touchstone's House.  Enter Touchstone. Touch. 
Ha! ha! Thinks my Knight Adventurer that we ken no Point of our Compass? Have we never heard of the Speranza, the Cavillaria, nor the Calinoria? well, my Errand Flash, and Runnegate Quicksilver, you may hurl a dozen Caps to your bon Voyage; but if you reach any Point but Cuckolds, with this Tide, I'il give you leave to make a Gravesend-Toast of me. I have sent your Pinnace a Remora, and that from this Sconce of mine, without Powder or Shot— Work upon that now. Here's Land Intelligence too, from my Lady Daughter, and her ladyship's Luck is as good as the Rest; She'll come to her Castle, and they to the Indies, much about a time.  Enter Mrs. Touchstone. Mrs. T. 
What, no News yet from her Ladyship? but we must allow Persons of Quality their own time for things.  Touch. 
Yes, here is a small Packet from her Ladyship; she has been seeking her Castle in the Air; in what Region I know not.  Mrs. T. 
I hope your Mechanic Worship will have the Manners to stay her ladyship's leisure; no matter for her Castle, what Account does her Ladyship send of that fair Tenement of her Body?  Touch. 
Why, the fair Tenement of her Body, and her Maid's Body were benighted on the Common with their Coach; robbed, stripped and fairly thrown into a Ditch, like two Snails In a Shell, with the Coachman a top on'em.  Mrs. T. 
O, Profane Accident, her Ladyship tumbled into a Ditch!  Touch. 
From whence she is returned to Town by Wagon, and at present sojourning in a blind Taphouse in Pudding-Lane.  Mrs. T. 
And is this all your concern for the Matter? how if her Ladyship should Miscarry upon it?  Touch. 
It were not the first time, sure; she has the Blessing to take after her Mother; Thou hast been my Cross these Thirty years, and now I will keep thee to fright away Spirits.  Mrs. T. 
O, Insensible Monster! give me the Directions, I will, fly upon the Wings of Motherly Affection, and wait upon her Ladyship incontinently.  [Exit. Touch. 
I wonder I hear nothing from my Son Golding yet; he was sent for betimes this Morning to the Guild-hall, and I am astonished at the Matter: If I had not laid up some comfort in him, I should e'en grow desperate— He comes in my Thoughts— How now, Son? what News at the Court of Aldermen?  Enter Golding. Gold. 
In troth, Sir, an Accident somewhat strange, else it has nothing worth reporting.  Touch. 
It is not borrowing of Money, then?  Gold. 
No, Sir: It has pleased the Commoners of the City to make me One of our Ward, to Elect me one of their Common-Council-men.  Touch. 
How!  Gold. 
And the Alderman of our Ward to appoint me his Deputy; in which Office I had an Oath ministered unto me accordingly.  Touch. 
Let me Kiss thy new Worship, my dear Son!— what a Fortune was it, or rather Judgement, for me to see that merit in him, which the whole City conspires to Second? taken into the Livery of his Company the first Week of his Freedom! choose Common-Council-man, and made an Alderman's Deputy all in a Day! the Wonder of our Times! Well, I will Honour Mr. Alderman for this, and think the better of the Common-Councils Wisdom while I live, for thus meeting, or rather coming after me in the Opinion of his Desert: Forward, my sufficient Son; and as this was the first, so think it the least step of thy Promotion.  Gold. 
Sir, as I was not ambitious of this; so I seek no higher.  Touch. 
Excellently spoken again! this Modest Answer of thine blushes, as if it said, Thou shalt wear Scarlet shortly; I must tell thee, I hope to see thee the other Monument of our City, reckoned among our Worthies, and remembered on the same Day with Gresham and my Lady Ramsey: when Whittington and his Puss shall be forgotten, and thy own Deeds played in thy own Time, by the best Company of Moorfields.  Gold. 
You are too Prodigal of your Praise, Sir.  Touch. 
Well, I have a little News for thee too: Our lewd Crew are all in the Officers Clutches e'er now; and thou shalt exercise Authority by way of justice on 'em.  Gold. 
Your Pleasure, Sir, shall guide me.  Touch. 
See, the Officers are at the Door without; How miraculously it falls out that thou shouldst have the Place of a Justicer upon 'em: I am glad of the Injury they have done me, that thou may'st punish it: Disgrace 'em all thou canst, be severe upon them, like a new Officer of the first Quarter.  [Exeunt. Enter Sir Petronell, Quicksilver, Seagull, brought. Pet. 
How implacably this Devil of ill Fortune pursues us?  Touch. 
Take your Chair, Mr. Justicer; I say, appear terrible to 'em; let 'em know the Melancholy of a Magistrate, and taste the Fury of a Citizen in Office.  Gold. 
Sir, I can do nothing with them, unless your Worship charge them with somewhat.  Touch. 
Fear not that, I will charge 'em and re-charge 'em rather than Authority shall want Matter to work upon 'em.  Gold. 
Will your Worship please to Sat?  Touch. 
By no means, Son, it is your Office.  Quick. 
Must Golding Sit upon us?  Fang. 
Plain Golding, to Mr. Deputy's Worship?  Gold. 
What Persons have ye there, Mr. Officer?  Fang. 
The same, an' please your Worship, that were specified in our Warrant. This, Sir, is the Counterfeit Knight; This, his lewd Companion.—  Gold. 
What? a Knight and his Companion thus accoutred? where are their Hats and Feathers, their Cloaks and Perriwiggs?  Fang. 
Truly, Sir, they had cast their Feathers before we seized 'em. Here's all the furniture we found amongst 'em.  Gold. 
Their Names, I say?  Touch. 
O this is most excellent: he should not take knowledge of 'em in his Place, indeed.  Fang. 
Why, this, Sir, is Sir Petronell Flash.  Gold. 
How!  Fang. 
And this, Master Quicksilver.  Touch. 
Is it possible? I thought they had been gone to Virginia e'er now with this Noble Captain. You have made a quick return it seems, and doubtless a good Voyage— nay, Pray Sirs, be covered; how did your Biscuit hold out, I beseech you?— Sure I have seen this Outlandish Gentleman before. Good Master Quicksilver, how one degree to the Southward has altered you.  Gold. 
Do you know these Persons, Mr. Alderman?— forbear your offers a little, you shall be heard anon.  Touch. 
Yes, Mr. Deputy, I had a small Venture aboard with them: Officers, you may let 'em stand; I'll pass my word they will not run away: A Brace of honest Gentlemen. One of 'em was my Apprentice, that kept his Whore and Hunting-Nagg; would Play you his Hundred Guinneys off at Basset most familiarly; and all on my Purse. In fine, there was no remedy but we must part; for I shall be very concise, Mr. Deputy. Since which time (for, as I said, I intent to be very concise with your Worship) since when, I say, he has gathered up some small Parcels of mine amongst my Customers, to the value of seven Hundred Pound more towards furnishing this Indian Voyage, wherein this Knight was Chief, Sir Flash here, one that Married a Daughter of mine, Ladifyed her, turned Two thousand Pound of good Land of hers into Cash, sent her a Progress to his invisible Castle, while he prepared for Sea, with a certain Usurer's Wife, an' please you, Master Deputy. Now to pronounce your honourable Pleasure.  Gold. 
If my Worshipful Father have ended.  Touch. 
I have an' please you, Master Deputy.  Gold. 
Why then under Correction.  Touch. 
Hold a little, Son,— Now come over 'em with some fine Gird, as thus,— Knight, you shall be encountered; that is to say, had to the Compter; and Quicksilver, I will put you into a Crucible, or so,— ha! ha! he!  Gold. 
Then as the honourable Laws direct in these Cases.  Touch. 
Hold yet a little, Mr. Deputy, that your Worship may not be overburdened, I will officiate a little.  [He takes the Chair. 
Sir Petronell Flash, I am sorry to see such flashes as these come from you: for my own part d'ye see (because I will be concise with you) I could wish I could say, I could say, I could wish, that I could say, I could not see 'em; but such is the misery of Magistrates, and Men in Place, that we must not wink at Offenders: fiat Justicia, ruat Coelum.  Quick. 
And then your Worship may catch Larks.  Touch. 
Without your Worship's Net, Sir,— that I think was Wormwood, I love Bobbing in a Magistrate extremely.  Gold. 
Will your Worship proceed?  Touch. 
Master Francis Quicksilver, would thou hadst turned Quacksalver: Thou art a proper young Man; of an honest and clean Face, somewhat near a good one; but thou hast been too proud of it. Thou hast Prodigally consumed thy Master's Wealth on light Housewives: And being by him gently admonished at several times, thou hast returned thyself haughty, rebellious in thine Answers, thundering out uncivil Comparisons, requiting all his Kindness with corpse behaviour: I must tell thee, Francis, these are most manifest signs of an obstinate ill Nature— so much for Authority, now by way of Evidence.  [He places Golding again in the Chair. Gold. 
Your Worship has acquitted yourself most judiciously.  Touch. 
Your Worship does me too much Honour—  Quick. 
This Mockery is the worst of Tortures.  Touch. 
Hold thy peace, impudent Varlet! with what Forehead canst thou speak, having run such a Course of Riot? does not this Worshipful Person's Temper and Fortune confound Thee? Thy younger Fellow in Service yet, now come to have the Place of a Judge upon thee? Which of all thy Gallants and Gamesters, thy Swearers and Swaggerers, will once condole thee till thou com'st up Holborn in Triumph? for by the Clew of thy Knavery, and thy Chain of Concupiscence, thou hast most certainly brought thyself to the Cart of Calamity.  Quick. 
Worshipful Master.  Touch. 
Offer not to speak, Crocodile; I will not hear a sound from thee: Thou hast learned to cry at the Playhouse: Will it please you, Master Deputy, to commit 'em all three to safe Custody?  Pet. 
Will you not take Security, Sir?  Touch. 
Take Security? why, I have him already; Mr. Fang, carry my Usurer and Tarpoulin here, both to the Compter, without Examination: I will lodge my Land-shark and Water-shark in souse together.  Gold. 
What remains then, but to dispose of these there too, till Mr. Alderman shall be pleased to charge them farther: Take 'em away.  Quick. 
This is flat Tyranny.  Pet. 
No more Respect to Quality?  Touch. 
Nay, nay; on, on, on: You see here the Issue of Sloth; of Sloth comes Pleasure, of Pleasure comes Riot, of Riot comes Whoring, of Whoring comes spending your Money, whereof comes Theft, whereof comes Judgement, whereof comes Hanging, and so my Quicksilver is fixed.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE III. A Chamber in an Alehouse.  Girtred and Sindefy in fantastical Old clothes. Gir. 
Ah, Sin, didst thou ever read in the Chronicle, of any Lady and her Gentlewoman driven to that Extremity that we aren, Sin?  Syn. 
Not I truly, Madam; or, if I had, it were but cold Comfort that would come out of Books.  Gir. 
Why? good faith now, I could Dine upon a lamentable old Story; dost thou know never a one, Sin?  Syn. 
None but my own, Madam, to be stolen from my honest Friends by a Prentice in the habit of a Gentleman; upon Promise of Marriage brought to London here, and now likely to be forsaken; for he is in Election to be Hanged, an' please your Ladyship.  Gir. 
Nay, weep not, good Sin, for my Pett is in as fair Election to be Hanged as He: Thy miseries are nothing to mine; I was more Promised Marriage, Sin; I was Married, and had it, Sin; made a Lady by a Knight, who is now as good as no Knight, Synon; and instead of Land in the Country, all his Living lies in the Compter; there is his Castle now, Syn.  Syn. 
From which he cannot be forced out.  Gir. 
Hunger, they say, will break Stone Walls: But he is e'en well enough served, who, as soon as he had got my Hand to the Sale of the Inheritance ran away from my Ladyship, as if I had been his Punk, God bless us. Would the Knight of the Sun, or Palmerin of England have used their Ladies so, Sin? or Sir Lancelot? or Sir Tristram?  Syn. 
I know not, Madam.  Gir. 
Then thou know'st nothing, Sin: The Knights now a-days are nothing to the Knights formerly. They rid on Horseback, ours go on Foot; they went buckled in their Armour, ours muffled in their Cloaks; they traveled Wildernesses, ours dare scarcely walk the Streets; they were still engaging their Honour, ours are ready to Pawn their clothes: they would spur up at sight of a Monster, ours run away from a Sergeant; they would help poor Ladies, ours make poor Ladies.  Syn. 
It is most true, Madam.  Gir. 
But let 'em vanish, Sin; yet the Thiefs were most unconscionable to take not only our Money, but our clothes too.  Syn. 
A timely Consideration, Madam; for our Landlady, profane Woman, as she is, has sworn by Bread and Salt not to trust us another Meal.  Gir. 
Let it stink in her hands then? she does not know the Honour she enjoys in having a Lady under her Roof— but thy best apparel is gone too, poor Syn.  Syn. 
I grieve for your ladyship's sake, Madam.  Gir. 
Alack! that there are no Fairies now a-days, to do Miracles, and bring Poor Ladies Money: I'll sweep the Hearth at Night; or, why may not we too rise early in the Morning, and find a Jewel in the Streets worth a Hundred Pound, Synon? may not some Court Lady as she comes at Midnight from a Hot-water Shop, look out of her Coach, and lose such a Jewel, Sin?  Syn. 
These are pretty Dreams, Madam.  Gir. 
Well, I protest, Sin, if I had as much Money as an Alderman, I would scatter some of it in the Streets for poor Ladies to find.  Enter Mrs. Touchstone. Syn. 
See, Madam, your Mother is coming up Stairs to us.  Gir. 
What, without sending first up to our Ladyship? upon my Honour 'tis Unsufferable.  Mrs. T. 
Where is this unfortunate Emblem of Quality? where is your Ladyship?— O the Father! what a Transmigration is here? I will have my Eyes put out incontinently, that I may not see this absurd Spectacle. What, will not your Ladyship vouchsafe to know me in this Overture of Fortune?  Gir. 
Not if you presume upon my bad Luck, Mrs. Touchstone; you were best lay the blame upon me now: it was you that should have looked to't; I did but my Kind, to desire to be Married, it was my Kind, as a Citizen's Daughter, and to be made a Lady, my Kind still: He was a Knight, and I was fit to be a Lady; 'tis not lack of liking, but lack of living that severs us.  Syn. 
O good Madam, do not take up your Mother so.  Mrs. T. 
Nay, nay, let her alone; let her Ladyship grieve me still with her bitter Taunts: I have not dole enough to see her in this miserable Case, without her Silks, Point, Jewel, Fontanges of seven Stories: without a a little Dog, a Page, or Gentleman-Usher, or any thing that is fit for a Lady.  Syn. 
Except her Tongue.  Mrs. T. 
And I not able to relieve her neither, being kept down so as I am by my Husband: Alas! when he was young, I could have come at any think that he had; but now I can come at nothing.  Gir. 
Marry, out on him, for a fousty Mechanic; by this light, I think he is not my legitimate Father. I hope, Mrs Touchstone, you have not debased my Quality so much as to ask relief from him— yet when I see— yet when I view this habit in the Glass, it makes the noble Tears gush out—  [She Cries. Mrs. T. 
Nay, sigh not so, sweet Ladybird, dear Madam, Child weep not! I shall die, if you cry and mar your Complexion thus. My Old Touchstone may be a Flint for his obdurateness; but I will try my outmost Power to mollify him.  Gir. 
Give him seasonable Advice, Mrs. Touchstone; if he humbles himself, in time I may be reconciled to him, and accept of a supply from him.  Mrs. T. 
Your Ladyship was always good natured, I must needs say; he is presently going to the Compter, where your Knight and Mr. Francis are in Durance together: I hear he intends to insult over 'em with his Gold End Son in Law; but by a Letter that I intercepted, I have found an Intrigue of his, to mortify him with All: Nolens volens he shall Dress you, Coach you, and set you up again, Lady-Child.  Gir. 
Ay, will he set my Knight up too? So my Knight were up, it were no matter though I were down.  Mrs. T. 
But your Ladyship must follow me to the Compter, than your joint Presences will strike an Awe into him: I will hasten before, and send your Ladyship a Coach; your Ladyship's most humble Servant.  [Exit. Gir. 
Come Synon, we'll take the Disconsolate Lady of the next Room along with us; I long to hear the Story out of her Water Adventure, and get out of her, who were the Parties concerned: Her Fisher-womans' Straw-Bed, and our Ditch, were Lodgings much alike. Come along, Syn.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE IU. The Compter Prison.  Enter Sir Petronell and Quicksilver, dragging in Security by the Horns, Wolf Master of the Prison. Quick. 
Come, Dad, away with these Penitentials: Old Touchstone has us all in the Wind, and resolves to make Holborn Martyrs of us.  Sec. 
Ah Frank, 'twas ungraciously done of thee, to seduce my Natural Wife, and of you, Sir Knight, to abuse your particular Friend!  Pet. 
That Hungered and Thirsted to do me good; your own free Gift, Dad, and you had good Land for it.  Sec. 
An' my Gossip Bramble, had not known of it, I could have had Mortal Patience.  Wolf. 
Gentlemen, you had best resolve on some method for your safety. I can assure you Mr. Touchstene will make a Session's Business of it; and is coming hither in person to tell you so.  Quick. 
You are under the same Condemnation, Dad, unless you bribe Mr. Wolf here, and make one in our Plot; you must make one at Tyburn, for I shall peach, Dad.  Sec. 
By no means Frank: I'll do any thing: What Plot?  Quick. 
Master Touchstone has always had great belief in Witchcraft, and is so terrified about it, that he dares never be in the dark: I will counterfeit being Bewitched, and you shall lay it to his Charge: He'll do any thing to get quit of us.  Sec. 
Very well; France my Province: I can enact any manner of thing, I was used to do it for my Wife's diversion,— it was ungratefully done of you, Sir Knight,— Why, 'tis but rolling my Eyes and foaming at Mouth, (a little Castle-Soap rubbed upon my Lips will do it) and then a Nutshell with Tow and Touchwood in it, makes me spit Fire like any Dragon. I Hunger and Thirst to be about it.  [Noise here. Wolf. 
Hark, he is at the Gates already; retire, and prepare for the Operation.  Quick. 
But first, Mr. Wolf, give him these Letters and try how far they will work.  [Exeunt all but Wolf. Enter Touchstone, Golding, and Bramble. Touch. 
You say, Mr. Bramble, the Deed of Sale was of your drawing up, and that you can find Flaws in it.  Bramb. 
I warrant you, Sir: Now shall I be revenged on my Gossip for his kind Intentions towards me.  Touch. 
How now, Mr. Wolf, will you produce your Rats before us?  Wolf. 
Will your Worship be pleased to peruse these Letters of Submission from them?  Touch. 
Sir, I do look for no Submission; I will bear myself in this Affair like blind Justice: Work upon that now.— Moreover, I do much wonder, Mr. Wolf, that you should travel in this business so contrary to your kind: That you, who are Master of a Prison, should endeavour the Release of your Prisoners.  Wolf. 
O Sir, I was never so mortified with any men's Discourse or Behaviour in Prison: Yet I have had men of all Nations and Religions.  Gold. 
And which Religion liked you best?  Wolf. 
Troth, Mr. Deputy, they that paid their Fees best.  Gold. 
And these are Letters of Humility?  Bramb. 
Accept of no Humility, Mr. Alderman, you are a happy Man, and I'll be bound to recover Thousands for you from my Gossip; but than you must be Obstinate.  Touch. 
I warrant you, Mr. Bramble: I am Deaf, and will not hear, have stopped my Ears with Shoemaker's Wax, drunk Lethe and Mandragora.  Wolf. 
Sir, you cannot imagine what a Change is wrought in them; the Knight will be in the Knight's Ward, do what we can: and Quicksilver will be in the Hole, if we would let him. I never saw Prisoners so penitent and devout: They sat up all Night singing the Sinners Complaint, and Edifying the whole Prison. Only Security goes a Note too high sometimes, because he lies in the Twopenny Ward, a great way off, and cannot take his Tune. The Neighbours are not able to rest for 'em, but come to ask what Godly Prisoners we have got there.  Touch. 
Which of 'em is so devout?  Wolf. 
Both Sir, Mr. Quicksilver especially: He has cut his Hair, reads the Young Man's Advice, and has gotten the Sick Man's Salve without Book.  Touch. 
'Tis strange he should have no Grace, I am sure he was brought up where it grew.  Wolf. 
He has Converted one Snapp a Bailiff too; a Fellow that could neither Write nor Read: He was called the Bandog of the Compter.  Touch. 
Mr. Bramble, I have one Scruple of Conscience; Shall I not lose all if I Prosecute and Hang 'em?  Bramb. 
I tell you, Sir, as to my Gossip Security's Case; though he should be Condemned to be Carted for a Bawd, or so; yet I will lay an Execution upon him of two Thousand pound, let him acknowledge a Judgement, he shall do it in half an hour; you shall not fetch him out till you have paid the Execution: This, if I think fit, I can do, Sir, unless you otherwise engage me.  Touch. 
You shall have double Fees, Mr. Bramble: Mr. Wolf, set them all Coram.  Enter Petronell, and Quicksilver: They kneel. Pet. 
Father!  Touch. 
Away Sirens. I will immure myself against your Cries.  Sec. 
Who would have thought your Worship were a Conjurer?  Touch. 
What mean the Varlets: I tremble at the Name.  Wolf. 
It will appear so, Sir. Mr. Quicksilver Vomits Nails, and crooked Pins, and in his Fits repeats your Name incessantly.  Enter Mrs. Touchstone. A Letter. Mrs. T. 
Good Mr. Alderman, be not so stiff: I have seen such a Spectacle of Sorrow yonder.  Touch. 
Mr. Bramble, Golding; do I look like a Witch, an Alderman a Witch! I abominated the Black Art from my Cradle.  [Petronell and Quicksilver whisper aside with Mrs. Touchstone. Mrs. T. 
Nay, for my part, I have long suspected him for Necromancy.  Bramb. 
Better and better, Master Alderman, here is matter of Scandal for you to proceed against them withal in the Doctors-Commons: This will bear vast Damages.  Wolf. 
Let both your Eyes and Ears be Witnesses.  Security brought in, and set upon a Chair. Mrs. T. 
O the Father! How he stares! This is plain Witchcrast; and see, he is falling into a Fit as soon as he comes into his Presence.  Pet. 
You will perceive more anon.  Sec. 
My Wife is a Whore, I'll touch her no more: For why? She rides on a Switches with Touchstone the Witch.— Where is he?  Touch. 
How the Profane Fiend, within, calls upon my Name; but, I say still, I will stop my Ears with Mandragora.  Mrs. T. 
Did you hear that, Gentleman? That very Word's enough to raise a Spirit.  Pet. 
See how he foams!  Mrs. T. 
And swells:  Wolf. 
These Proofs are undeniable.  Bramb. 
Be not concerned, Sir, we'll prove it Forgery, and recover upon it.  Gold. 
Most palpable! A mere Conspiracy.  Touch. 
Nay, Gentlemen, the Person is Bewitched, that is most certain; but by no skill of mine, as I hope to be Lord Mayor.  Sec. 
Buzz, Buzz, Buz.  Wolf. 
I pray observe him.  Quick. 
Oh! Oh! Oh!  Sec. 
She comes with a Needle, and puts it in,  
He pulls it out, and puts in a Pin.— Oh! oh!  Mrs. T. 
O Barbarous Wretch! How the poor Creature's Tortured? Come, hold a Candle to the Wizard's Finger's ends, and that will give him ease.  Touch. 
I will clear my Conscience before a Magistrate.  Quick. 
You do not tumble enough.  Wolf. 
Alas, how he is vexed!  Mrs. T. 
'Tis past all Contradiction.  Touch. 
What does he now?  Sec. 
He shows the taking of Tabaco, with which the Fiend is so delighted.  Pet. 
Now he fancies himself Cast away, and Swimming for his Life.  Mrs. T. 
How the Devil can Act!  Touch. 
O Terrible! What Swelling is that upon his Belly?  Mrs. T. 
Any Rising upon his Belly? Keep it down, keep it down.  Bramb. 
'Tis mere Confederacy, you shall recover from Mr. Wolf too abundantly.  Gold. 
Mere Juggling.  Touch. 
I tell you, Sirs, I am astonished: There must be a Witch amongst us.  Sec. 
Hey Moi Kakodemon, Kai Tris Kakodemon, Kai Pentakis, Kai Mariakis.  Touch. 
Now he Curses me in Greek: Mr. Bramble, I would I were fairly off this Business.  Mrs. T. 
What Paper is that flown out of his Throat.  [Reads. 
To Alderman Touchstone, from Shoreditch. This is the Third time I am with Child by you; yet to be forgetful to supply your Disconsolate Servant,  
Dorothy Jerk.  Touch. 
This must be the Devil, I shall be undone.  Mrs. T. 
How, Mr. Alderman, Witch and Whoremaster too?  Gold. 
Now, Sir, the Cheat appears most plainly; I'll take it on my Oath, I saw your Wife give him that Paper.  Touch. 
And you saw it too, Mr. Bramble.  Bramb. 
Not distinctly, Sir.  Touch. 
But you can swear it.  Bramb. 
For half Costs. 'Tis most apparent, I will swear to it.  Quick. 
Your Gossip will see you double, to come over to us.  Bramb. 
Enough. These Proofs are pregnant,— Mr. Alderman, you are the Witch,— You ratify?  Sec. 
Mum.  Bramb. 
I will manage the poor Lunaticks Cause, though I do it gratis: We will make your Worship an Example.  Touch. 
Oh Hypocrite! Dost thou forsake me too?  Gold. 
My Life for yours, Sir, stand to't.  Touch. 
And so I will; I am convinced now, 'tis all Roguery: Davie, go call Mr. Justice Snappal hither presently. My Indignation is kindled, and I will prosecute them to the Death.  Quick. 
This will not do: I will try the Experiment more.  [Exit. Touch. 
But how if a Jury should give this Business against, and get Condemned for a Wizard? I would this Concern were well off, and all Friends again.  Quicksilver reenters with the Hide upon him. Mrs. Touchstone shrieks out. Security rises frighted, Quicksilver and he run over one another. Sec. 
Mischief on your Coward's Heart; all's spoiled.  Quick. 
Why gave you me no Warning?  Gold. 
Now, Sir, I hope you are satisfied, you see the Implements, here is his Mouse, and here his Bellows and false Belly; ha! ha! ha! We thank you, Gentlemen.  Bramb. 
I told you, Sir, 'twas all a Cheat; we will recover swingly from 'em.  Touch. 
I defy you, Mr. Bramble. I am o'erjoyed to find my Honour safe: Well, it was a witty Practice, and I forgive them all.  Mrs. T. 
Why, that's well said, they were resolved to make you Merry.  Enter Girfred, Mildred, Winifrid, Sindefy, and Mrs. Bramble. 
Come, Sir, your Pity must descend here too; you see they have all done Penance: Come, Lady-child, you must ask your Father Blessing.  Gir. 
Not unless he desires it, Mrs. Touchstone.  Touch. 
She has Spirit for an Empress: Tell her, Wife, I desire her, to desire my Pardon.— Come, Son Golding, I must desire you too, to intercede to me, on the Offenders Behalf.  Mild. 
I'll undertake for that, Sir.  Gir. 
O my mad Runaway, to forsake me in the first Month! But it was like a Man of the Times.  Sec. 
Ah Wynny! Bunting, Gold-fineh, to break from your Cage, and leave your Constant Cue.  Touch. 
Then, as I take it, here is my Lawyer that has been busy on all sides, is fairly balked on all sides; and my Usurer-Bawd proved a Cuckold.  Sec. 
Even my Learned Gossip, here, is in the same Praemunire.  Pet. 
We therefore beg of your Worship, and Mr. Deputy here, to see these two Ladies peaceably re-settled with their Owners.  Sec. 
How will you advise in this point, my Learned Council?  Bramb. 
We have a Precedent for't in the wise Cato.  Wyn. 
But on Condition of Christian Liberty; and that we be locked up no more.  Mrs. T. 
All Reason in the World for it; and besides, Gentlemen, it is your Interest; for as you came to be Cuckolds by locking your Wives up: for ought I know, you may be Uncuckolded by giving them their freedom.  Touch. 
That's very well said too.— Come, Sirs, we must all Sup together, and be Friends. Run afore Davie, and buy up the whole Market.— Mr. Wolf, you must be our Guest too: We'll summon the City Music to us, with a Consort of the whole Neighbourhood.  
To join their Voices in the highest Pitch,  
And sing loud Thanks ---- That I am found No Witch.    

EPILOGUE.  

WE have shown an Alderman no Conjurer. (were?  
‛ Nouns, cries Pit-Bully, Who e'er thought there  
Have Patience, Sirs, next bout we'll show, if luck hold,  
What's strange indeed, ----- an Alderman no Cuckold:  
A Privilege for serious Play too great,  
But Farce has Privilege, Farce, our last Retreat:  
For as kept Misses, when their Keeper's tire,  
With some new slight, revive the palled desire;  
So Poets banking th' old Roads of the Stage,  
Bring Farce to tickle up th' Enervate Age:  
Poets, and Whores, you equally should dread;  
Alike infections, where their Venom's spread.  
What's Poetry, but 〈◊〉 Clap i'th' Head?  
Yet Clapped Gallant sometimes gets Sound again,  
No Cure for Gonorrhoea of the Pen  
The Parallel holds further, as I guess,  
There's Whores for Need, and Whores for Wantonness;  
So there's Sale Poetry, Poetry of Lord,  
Worth just as much, as his sweet Lordship's Word.  
One Word more from the Author, I must say,  
He once hit Farce, whate'er he has done to day.  
He then had Strength, you should have charged him then;  
But Critics are a sort of Countrymen,  
Their Valour of the true Militia-Strein;  
Who from the fighting Foe, like Lightning fled,  
But come like Thunder back, to Maul the Dead.   
FINIS.