University of Virginia Library

ACT. 3.

SCENA 1.

Enter Horsus and Roxena.
Rox.
I have no conceit now that you ever lov'd me,
But as lust led you for the time.

Hor.
See, see.

Rox.
Do you pine at my advancement, Sir?

Hor.
Oh barrenness
Of understanding! what a right love is this?
'Tis you that fall, I that am reprehended;
What height of honours, eminence of fortune
Should ravish me from you?

Rox.
Who can tell that, Sir?
What's he can judge of a mans appetite
Before he sees him eat? who knows the strength of any's constancy
That never yet was tempted? we can call
Nothing our own, if they be deeds to come,
Th'are only ours, when they are pass'd and done.
How blest are you above your apprehension,
If your desire would lend you so much patience
T'examine the adventurous condition
Of our affections, which are full of hazard,
And draw in the times goodness to defend us!
First, this bold course of ours cannot last long,
Nor ever does in any without shame,
And that, you know, brings danger; and the greater
My Father is in bloud, as he is well risen,
The greater will the storm of his rage be
Against his blouds wronging: I have cast for this,
'Tis not advancement that I love alone,
'Tis love of shelter, to keep shame unknown.

Hor.
Oh were I sure of thee, as 'tis impossible
There to be ever sure where there's no hold,
Your pregnant hopes should not be long in rising.

Rox.
By what assurance have you held me thus far
Which you found firm, despair you not in that.

Hor.
True, that was good security for the time,
But in a change of state, when y'are advanc'd
You women have a French toy in your pride,
You make your friend come crouching; or perhaps,
To bow in th'hams the better, he is put
To complement three hours with your chief woman,
Then perhaps not admitted, no nor ever,
That's the more noble fashion: forgetfulness
Is the most pleasing vertue they can have
That do spring up from nothing, for by the same
Forgetting all they forget whence they came;
An excellent property of oblivion.

Rox.
I pity all the fortunes of poor women
In my own unhappiness, when we have given
All that we have to men, what's our requital?
An ill-fac'd jealousie, that resembles much
The mistrustfulness of an insatiate thief
That scarce believes he has all, though he has stripp'd
The true man naked, and left nothing on him
But the hard cord that binds him: so are we
First robb'd, and then left bound by jealousie.
Take reasons advice, and you'l find it impossible
For you to lose me in this Kings advancement
Who's an Usurper here, and as the Kingdom
So shall he have my love by usurpation,
The right shall be in thee still; my ascension
To dignity is but to wast thee higher,
And all Usurpers have the falling-sickness,
They cannot keep up long.

Hor.
May credulous man
Put all his confidence in so weak a Bottom
And make a saving Voyage?

Rox.
Nay as gainful
As ever man yet made.

Hor.
Go, take thy fortunes,
Aspire with my consent, so thy ambition will be sure to prosper.
Speak the fair certainties of Britains Queen
Home to thy wishes.

Rox.
Speak in hope I may
But not in certainty.

Hor.
I say in both,
Hope and be sure I'le soon remove the Lett that stands
Between thee and thy Glory.

Rox.
Life of Love!
If lost Virginity can win such a day
I'le have no daughter but shall learn my way.

Exit.
Hor.
'Twill be good work for him that first instructs them,
May be some Son of mine, got by this woman too,
May match with their own Sisters. Peace, 'tis he,
Enter Vortiger.
Invention fail me not, 'tis a gallant credit
To marry ones Whore bravely.

Vor.
Have I power
Of life and death, and cannot command ease
In my own bloud? After I was a King
I thought I never should have felt pain more,
That there had been a ceasing of all passions
And common stings, which Subjects use to feel,
That were created with a patience fit
For all extremities: But such as we
Know not the way to suffer,then to do it
How most prepost'rous 'tis? tush, riddles, riddles.
I'le break through custom, why should not the mind,
The nobler part that's of us, be allow'd
Change of affections, as our Bodies are
Change of food and rayment? I'le have it so.
All fashions appear strange at first production,
But this would be well followed: Oh Captain!

Hor.
My Lord I grieve for you, I scarce fetch breath
But a sigh hangs at the end of it, but this
Is not the way, if youl'd give way to counsel.

Vor.
Set me right then, or I shall heavily curse thee
For lifting up my understanding to me
To shew that I was wrong; Ignorance is safe,
I then slept happily; If knowledge mend me not
Thou hast committed a most cruel sin,
To wake me into judgement and then leave me.

Hor.
I will not leave you, Sir, that were rudely done,
First y'have a flame too open and too violent,
Which like bloud-guiltiness in an Offender
Betrays him, when nought else can: out with it, Sir,
Or let some cunning coverture be made
Before your practice enters, 'twill spoil all else.

Vor.
Why, look you, Sir, I can be as calm as silence
All the while musick plays, strike on, sweet friend,
As mild and merry as the heart of Innocence;
I prithee take my temper; has a Virgin
A heat more modest?

Hor.
He does well to ask me,
I could have told him once; why here's a government,
There's not a sweeter amity in friendship
Then in this League 'twixt you and health.

Vor.
Then since
Thou find'st me capable of happiness
Instruct me with the practice.

Hor.
What will you say, my Lord,
If I ensnare her in an action of lust?
Oh there were art to the life, but 'tis impossible,
I prithee flatter me no farther with it;
Fye, so much sin as goes to make up that
Will never prevail with her: why I'le tell you, Sir,
She's so sin-killing modest, that if only
To move the question were enough Adultery
To cause a separation, there's no Gallant
So brassie impudent durst undertake
The words that shall belong to't.

Hor.
Say you so, Sir?
There's nothing made in the world, but has a way to't,
Though some be harder then the rest to find,
Yet one there is, that's certain; and I think
I have took the course to light on it.

Vor.
Oh I pray for't.

Hor.
I heard you lately say (from whence, my Lord,
My practice receiv'd life first) that your Queen
Still consecrates her time to Contemplation,
Takes solitary walks.

Vor.
Nay late and early
Commands her weak Guard from her, which are but
Women at strongest.

Hor.
I like all this, my Lord,
And now, Sir, you shall know what net is us'd
In many places to catch modest women,
Such as will never yield by prayers or gifts:
Now there be some will catch up men as fast,
But those She-Fowlers nothing concern us,
Their Birding is at Windows, ours abroad,
Where Ring-doves should be caught, that's married wives,
Or chast Maids, what the appetite has a mind to.

Vor.
Make no pause then.

Hor.
The honest Gentlewoman,
When nothing will prevail (I pity her now)
Poor Soul, she's entic'd forth by her own Sex
To be betray'd to man, who in some Garden-house
Or remote walk, taking his lustful time,
Binds darkness on her eye-lids, surprizes her,
And having a Coach ready, turns her in,
Hurrying her where he list for the sins safety,
Making a rape of honour without words,
And at the low ebb of his lust, perhaps
Some three days after, sends her coach'd again
To the same place, and, which would make most mad,
She's robb'd of all, yet knows not where she's robb'd,
There's the dear precious mischief.

Vor.
Is this practis'd?

Hor.
Too much, my Lord, to be so little known,
A Sprindge to catch a Maiden-head after Sun-set,
Clip it, and send it home again to the City,
There 'twill ne're be perceiv'd.

Vor.
My raptures want expression,
I conceit enough to make me fortunate, and thee great.

Exit.
Hor.
I praise it then, my Lord, I knew 'twould take.

Exit.

SCENA 2.

Enter Castiza (with a Book) and two Ladies.
Cast.
Methinks you live strange lives! When I see it not
It grieves me less, you know how to ease me then;
If you but knew how well I lov'd your absence
You would bestow it upon me without asking.

1 La.
Faith, for my part, were it no more for
Ceremony then for Love,
You should walk long enough without my attendance,
And so think all my Fellows, though they say nothing;
Books in womens hands are as much against the hair, methinks,
As to see men wear stomachers, or night rayles;
She that has the Green-sickness and should follow her counsel,
Would dye like an Ass, and go to the worms like a sallad;
Not I, so long as such a Creature as man is made,
She is a fool that knows not what he is good for.

Exeunt Ladies.
Cast.
Though among lives elections, that of Virgin
I did speak noblest of; yet it has pleas'd the King
To send me a contented blessedness
In that of marriage, which I ever doubted;
Enter Vortiger and Horsus disguised.
I see the Kings affection was a true one,
It lasts and holds out long, that's no mean vertue
In a commanding man, though in great fear
At first I was enforc'd to venture on it.

Vor.
All's happy, clear and safe.

Hor.
The rest comes gently on.

Vor.
Be sure you seize on her full sight at first,
For fear of my discovery.

Hor.
Now fortune, and I am sped.

Cast.
Treason, treason!

Hor.
Sirrah, how stand you? prevent noise and clamour,
Or death shall end thy Service.

Vor.
A sure Cunning.

Cast.
Oh rescue, rescue.

Hor.
Dead her voice, away, make speed.

Cast.
No help, no succour?

Hor.
Louder yet, extend
Your voice to the last rack, you shall have leave now,
Y'are far from any pity.

Cast.
What's my sin?

Hor.
Contempt of man, and he's a noble Creature,
And takes it in ill part to be despis'd.

Cast.
I never despis'd any.

Hor.
No? you hold us
Unworthy to be lov'd, what call you that?

Cast.
I have a Lord disproves you.

Hor.
Pish, your Lord?
Y'are bound to love your Lord, that is no thanks to you;
You should love those you are not tyed to love,
That's the right tryal of a womans Charity:

Cast.
I know not what you are, nor what my fault is,
If it be life you seek, what ere you be,
Use no immodest words, and take it from me,
You kill me more in talking sinfully
Then acting Cruelty; be so far pitiful
To end me without words.

Hor.
Long may you live,
'Tis the wish of a good Subject, 'tis not life
That I thirst after, Loyalty forbid
I should commit such Treason; you mistake me,
I have no such bloudy thought, only your love
Shall content me.

Cast.
What said you, Sir?

Hor.
Thus plainly,
To strip my words as naked as my purpose,
I must and will enjoy thee: gone already?
Look to her, bear her up, she goes apace,
I fear'd this still, and therefore came provided,
There's that will fetch life from a dying spark
And make it spred a Furnace, she's well straight,
Pish, let her go, she stands upon my knowledge,
Or else she counterfeits, I know the vertue.

Cast.
Never did sorrows in afflicted woman
Meet with such cruelties, such hard hearted ways
Humane invention never found before.
To call back life to live is but ill taken
By some departing Soul; then to force mine back
To an eternal act of death in lust,
What is it, but most exectable?

Hor.
So, so;
But this is from my business, list to me,
Here you are now far from all hope of friendship,
Save what you make in me, scape me you cannot,
Send your Soul that assurance; that resolv'd on,
You know not who I am, nor ever shall,
I need not fear you then; but give consent,
Then with the faithfulness of a true friend
I'le open my self to you, fall your servant,
As I do now in hope, proud of submission,
And seal the deed up with eternal secresie,
Not death shall pluck it from me, much less the Kings
Authority or torture.

Vor.
I admire him.

Cast.
Oh, Sir, what e're you are, I teach my knee
Thus to requite you, be content to take
Only my sight, as ransom for my honour,
And where you have but mock'd my eyes with darkness
Pluck them quite out; all outward lights of body
I'le spare most willingly, but take not from me
That which must guide me to another world,
And leave me dark for ever, fast without
That cursed pleasure which will make two souls
Endure a famine everlastingly.

Hor.
This almost moves.

Vor.
By this light he'le be taken.

Hor.
I'le wrestle down all pity, what, will you consent?

Cast.
I'le never be so guilty.

Hor.
Farewell words then,
You hear no more of me, but thus I seize you.

Cast.
Oh if a power above be reverenc'd by thee,
I bind thee by that name, by manhood, nobleness,
Vort. snatches her away.
And all the charms of honour.

Hor.
Ah ha, here's one caught
For an example, never was poor Lady
So mock'd into false terrour, with what anguish
She lyes with her own Lord? now she could curse
All into barrenness, and beguil her self by it:
Conceit's a powerful thing, and is indeed
Plac'd as a palate to taste grief, or love,
And as that relishes so we approve:
Hence comes it that our taste is so beguil'd,
Changing pure bloud for some that's mix'd and soil'd.

Exeunt.

SCENA 3.

Enter Hengist.
Heng.
A fair and fortunate Constellation reign'd
When we set foot here, for from his first gift
(Which to a Kings unbounded eyes seem'd nothing)
The Compass of a Hide, I have erected
A strong and spacious Castle, yet contain'd my self
Within my limits, without check or censure.
Thither, with all th'observance of a Subject,
The liveliest witness of a grateful mind,
I purpose to invite him and his Queen
And feast them nobly.

Bar.
We will enter, Sir,
'Tis a state business, of a twelve moneth long,
The chusing of a Mayor.

Heng.
What noise is that?

Tay.
Sir, we must speak with the good Earl of Kent,
Though we were never brought up to keep a door,
We are as honest, Sir, as some that do.

Enter a Gentleman.
Heng.
Now, Sir, what's the occasion of their clamours?

Gen.
Please you, my Lord, a company of Townes-men
Are bent against all denials and resistance
To have speech with your Lordship, and that you
Must end a difference, which none else can do.

Heng.
Why then there's reason in their violence,
Which I ne're look'd for: first let in but one,
Exit Gentleman.
And as we relish him the rest come on.
'Tis no safe wisdom in a rising man
To slight off such as these, nay rather these
Are the foundations of a lofty work,
We cannot build without them, and stand sure.
He that first ascends to a Mountains top
Must begin at the foot. Now, Sir, who comes?

Enter Gent.
Gen.
They cannot yet agree, my Lord, of that;
They say 'tis worse now then it was before,
For where the difference was but between two,
Upon this coming first th'are all at odds;
One says he shall lose his place in the Church by't,
Another will not do his wife that wrong,
And by their good wills they would all come first.
The strife continues in most heat, my Lord,
Between a Country Barber and a Taylour
Of the same Town, and which your Lordship names
'Tis yielded by consent that he shall enter.

Heng.
Here's no sweet quoyl, I am glad they are so reasonable,
Call in the Barber, if the Tale be long
He'le cut it short I trust, that's all the hope;
Enter Barber.
Now, Sir, are you the Barber?

Bar.
Oh most barbarous!
A Corrector of enormities in hair, my Lord,
A promooter of upper lips, or what your Lordship,
In the neatness of your discretion, shall think fit to call me.

Heng.
Very good, I see you have this without book,
But what's your business?

Bar.
Your Lordship comes to a very high point indeed,
The business, Sir, lyes about the head.

Heng.
That's work for you.

Bar.
No, my good Lord, there is a Corporation,
A Body, a kind of Body.

Heng.
The Barber is out at the Body, let in the Taylour;
This 'tis to reach beyond your own profession,
When you let go your head, you lose your memory:
You have no business with the Body.

Bar.
Yes, Sir,
I am a Barber-Chirurgeon, I have had something to do with it
In my time, my Lord, and I was never so out of the body
As I have been of late, send me good luck, I'le marry some whore
But I'le get in again.

Heng.
Now, Sir, a good discovery come from you.

Tay.
I will rip up the Linings to your Lordship,
And shew what stuff 'tis made of; for the Body
Or Corporation—

Heng.
There the Barber left indeed.

Tay.
'Tis piec'd up of two fashions.

Heng.
A patcht Town the whilest.

Tay.
Nor can we go through stitch, my noble Lord,
The choler is so great in the one party.
And as in linsey-woolsey wove together,
One piece makes several suits, so, upright Earl,
Our linsey-woolsey hearts make all this coyl.

Heng.
What's all this now? I am ne're the wiser yet, call in the rest:
Now, Sirs, what are you?

Glo.
Sir, reverence on your Lordship,
I am a Glover.

Heng.
What needs that then?

Glo.
Sometimes I deal in dogs leather, Sir, reverence the while.

Heng.
Well, to the purpose, if there be any towards.

Glo.
I were an Ass else, saving your Lordships presence;
We have a Body, but our Town wants a hand,
A hand of Justice, a worshipful Master Mayor:

Heng.
This is well handled yet, a man may take some hold
On it. You want a Mayor?

Glo.
Right, but there's two at fifty cuffs about it, Sir, as I may say
At daggers drawing, but that I cannot say, because they have none;
And you being Earl of Kent, our Town does say
Your Lordships voice shall part and end the fray.

Heng.
This is strange work for me, well Sir, what be they?

Glo.
The one is a Tanner.

Heng.
Fye, I shall be too partial,
I owe too much affection to that Trade
To put it to my voice; what is his name?

Glo.
Symon.

Heng.
How Symon too?

Glo.
Nay 'tis but Symon one, Sir,
The very same Symon that sold your Lordship a Hide.

Heng.
What sayest thou?

Glo.
That's all his glory, Sir, he got his Masters
Widow by it presently, a rich Tanners wife, she has set him up,
He was her Fore-man a long time in her other husbands days.

Heng.
Now let me perish in my first aspiring
If the pretty simplicity of his fortune
Do not most highly take me, 'tis a presage, methinks,
Of bright succeeding happiness to mine
When my Fates Gloworm casts forth such a shine.
And what are those that do contend with him?

Tay.
Marry, my noble Lord, a Fustian Weaver.

Heng.
How, he offer
To compare with Symon! he a fit match for him!

Bar.
Hark, hark, my Lord, here they come both in a pelting chafe
From the Town-house.

Sym.
How, before me? I scorn thee,
Thou wattle-fac'd sing'd Pig.

Oliver.
Pig? I defie thee,
My Uncle was a Jew, and scorn'd the motion.

Sym.
I list not brook thy vaunts, compare with me?
Thou Spindle of Concupiscence, 'tis well known
Thy first wife was a Flax-wench.

Ol.
But such a Flax-wench
Would I might never want at my need, nor any friend of mine,
My Neighbours knew her, thy wife was but a hempen halter to her.

Sym.
Use better words, I'le hang thee in my year else,
Let who will chuse thee afterwards.

Glo.
Peace for shame,
Quench your great spirit, do not you see his Lordship?

Heng.
What, Master Symonides?

Sym.
Symonides?
What a fair name hath he made of Symon!
Then he's an Ass that calls me Symon again,
I am quite out of love with it.

Heng.
Give me thy hand,
I love thy fortunes, and like a man that thrives.

Sym.
I took a widow, my Lord,
To be the best piece of ground to thrive on,
And by my faith, my Lord, there's a young Symonides,
Like a green Onyon, peeping up already.

Heng.
Th'hast a good lucky hand.

Sym.
I have somewhat, Sir.

Heng.
But why to me is this election offer'd?
The chusing of a Mayor goes by most voices.

Sym.
True, Sir, but most of our Towns-men are so hoarse
With drinking, there's not a good voice among them all.

Heng.
Are you content to put it to all these then?
To whom I liberally resign my Interest
To prevent censures.

Sym.
I speak first, my Lord.

Ol.
Though I speak last, my Lord, I am not least,
If they will cast away a Town-born Child, they may,
It is but dying some forty years before my time.

Heng.
I leave you to your choice awhile.

Exit.
All.
Your good Lordship.

Sym.
Look you Neighbours, before you be too hasty, let Oliver
The Fustian-Weaver, stand as fair as I do, and the Devil
Do him good on't.

Ol.
I do, thou upstart Callymoocher, I do,
'Tis well known to the Parish I have been twice Ale-Cunner,
Thou mushrom, that shot'st up in a night;
By lying with thy Mistress.

Sym.
Faith thou art such a spiny Baldrib,
All the Mistresses in the Town will never get thee up.

Ol.
I scorn to rise by a woman, as thou didst,
My Wife shall rise by me.

Glo.
I pray leave your Communication,
We can do nothing else.

Ol.
I gave that Barber a Fustian-Suit,
And twice redeem'd his Cittern, he may remember me.

Sym.
I fear no false measure but in that Taylor,
The Glover and the Button-maker are both cock-sure;
That Colliers eye I like not:
Now they consult, the matter is in brewing,
Poor Gill wy wife lyes longing for the news,
'Twill make her a glad Mother.

All.
A Symon, a Symon.

Sym.
Good people I thank you all.

Ol.
Wretch that I am,
Tanner, thou hast curried favour.

Sym.
I curry, I defie thy Fustian fume.

Ol.
But I will prove a Rebel all thy year
And raise up the seven deadly sins against thee.

Exit.
Sym.
The deadly sins will scorn to rise by thee,
If they have any breeding,
As commonly they are well brought up, 'tis not for every scab
To be acquainted with them; but leaving the scab, to you good
Neighbours now I bend my speech. First, to say more then a man
Can say, I hold it not fit to be spoken; but to say what a man
Ought to say, there I leave you also. I must confess your loves
Have chosen a weak and unlearned man; that I can neither write
Nor read you all can witness; yet not altogether so unlearned, but I
Can set my mark to a Bond, if I would be so simple; an excellent
Token of Government. Cheer you then, my hearts, you have done
You know not what, there's a full point. There you must all
Cough and hem.
Here they all cough and hem.
Now touching our common adversary the Fustian-Weaver,
Who threatens he will raise the deadly sins among us,
Let them come, our Town is big enough to hold them,
We will not so much disgrace it; besides you know
A deadly sin will lye in a narrow hole; but when they think
Themselves safest, and the web of their iniquity best woven,
With the horse-strength of my Justice I will break through the
Loom of their concupiscence, and make the Weaver go seek his
Shuttle. Here you may cough and hem again, if you'l do me the
Favour.
They cough and hem again.
Why I thank you all, and it shall not go unrewarded.
Now for the deadly sins, Pride, Sloth, Envy, Wrath; as for
Covetousness and Gluttony, I'le tell you more when I come
Out of my Office; I shall have time to try what they are,
I will prove them soundly, and if I find Gluttony and Covetousness
To be directly sins, I'le bury the one in the bottom of a Chest,
And the other in the end of my Garden. But Sirs, for Leachery,
I'le tickle that home my self, I'le not leave a Whore in the Town.

Bar.
Some of your Neighbours must seek their
Wives in the Country then.

Sym.
Barber, be silent, I will
Cut thy Comb else. To conclude, I will learn the villany of
All Trades, my own I know already; if there be any knavery
In the Baker, I will boult it out; if in the Brewer, I will taste him
Throughly, and piss out his iniquity at his own suck-hole:
In a word, I will knock down all enormities like a Butcher,
And send the Hide to my fellow Tanners.

All.
A Symonides, a true Symonides indeed.

Enter Hengist and Roxena.
Heng.
How now, how goes your choice?

Tay.
This is he, my Lord.

Sym.
To prove I am the man, I am bold to take
The upper hand of your Lordship:
I'le not lose an inch of my honour.

Heng.
Hold Sirs, there's some few Crowns to mend your feast,
Because I like your choice.

Bar.
Joy bless you, Sir,
We'le drink your health with Trumpets.

Sym.
I with Sack-butts,
That's the more solemn drinking for my state,
No malt this year shall fume into my pate.

Exit cum suis.
Heng.
Continue still that favour in his love.

Rox.
Nay with encrease, my Lord, the flame grows greater,
Though he has learn'd a better art of late
To set a skreen before it.

Enter Vortiger and Horsus.
Heng.
Speak lower.

Hor.
Heard every word, my Lord.

Vor.
Plainly?

Hor.
Distinctly;
The course I took was dangerous, but not failing,
For I convey'd my self behind the Hangings
Even just before his entrance.

Vor.
'Twas well ventur'd.

Hor.
I had such a womans first and second longing in me
To hear her how she would bear her mock'd abuse
After she was return'd to privacy,
I could have fasted out an Ember-week,
And never thought of hunger, to have heard her;
Then came your holy Lupus and Germanus.

Vor.
Two holy Confessors.

Hor.
At whose first sight
I could perceive her fall upon her breast
And cruelly afflict her self with sorrow;
I never heard a sigh till I heard hers,
Who after her Confession pitying her,
Put her into a way of patience,
Which now she holds, to keep it hid from you,
There's all the pleasure that I took in't now,
When I heard that my pains was well remembred.
So with applying comforts and relief,
They have brought it lower, to an easie grief.
But yet the taste is not quite gone.

Vor.
Still fortune
Sits bettering our Inventions.

Enter Castiza.
Hor.
Here she comes.

Cast.
Yonder's my Lord, oh I'le return again,
Methinks I should not dare to look on him.

Hor.
She's gone again.

Vor.
It works the kindlier, Sir.
Go now and call her back, she winds her self
Into the snare so prettily, 'tis a pleasure
To set toils for her.

Cast.
He may read my shame
Now in my blush.

Vor.
Come y'are so link'd to holiness,
So ta'ne with contemplative desires,
That the world has you, yet enjoys you not;
You have been weeping too.

Cast.
Not I, my Lord.

Vor.
Trust me I fear you have, y'are much to blame
To yield so much to passion without cause.
Is not some time enough for meditation?
Must it lay title to your health and beauty,
And draw them into times consumption too?
'Tis too exacting for a holy faculty.
My Lord of Kent? I prithee wake him, Captain,
He reads himself asleep sure.

Hor.
My Lord?

Vor.
Nay,
I'le take away your Book and bestow't here.

Heng.
Your pardon, Sir.

Vor.
Lady, you that delight in Virgins stories,
And all chast works, here's excellent reading for you;
Make of that Book as made men do of favours,
Which they grow sick to part from. And now, my Lord,
You that have so conceitedly gone beyond me,
And made so large use of a slender gift,
Which we ne're minded; I commend your thrift.
And that your Building may to all Ages
Carry the stamp and impress of your wit,
It shall be call'd Thong-Castle.

Heng.
How? my Lord,
Thong-Castle! there your Grace quitts me kindly.

Vor.
'Tis fit Art should be known by its right name,
You that can spread my gift, I'le spread your fame.

Heng.
I thank your Grace for that.

Vor.
And loved Lord,
So well we do accept your Invitation,
With all speed we'le set forwards.

Heng.
Your Honour loves me.

Exit.