University of Virginia Library

Scene. IIJ.

Peni-boy. Se.
Peny-boy. Iv. Lickfinger. &c.
Broker? what Broker?

P. Iv.
Who's that? my Vncle!

P. Se.
I am abus'd, where is my Knaue? my Broker?

Lic.
Your Broker is laid out vpon a bench, yonder,
Sacke hath seaz'd on him, in the shape of sleepe.

Pic.
Hee hath beene dead to vs almost this houre.

P. Se.
This houre?

P. Ca.
Why sigh you Sr? 'cause he's at rest?

P. Se.
It breeds my vnrest.

Lic.
Will you take a cup
He strikes the Sacke out of his hand.
And try if you can sleepe?

P. Se.
No, cogging Iacke,
Thou and thy cups too, perish.

Shv.
O, the Sacke!

Mad.
The sacke, the sacke!

P. Ca.
A Madrigall on Sacke!

Pic.
Or rather an Elegy, for the Sacke is gone.

Pec.
VVhy doe you this, Sir? spill the wine, and raue?
For Brokers sleeping?

P. Se.
VVhat through sleepe, and Sacke,
My trust is wrong'd: but I am still awake,
Hee would haue Pecunia home. But shee refuseth. And her Traine.
To waite vpon your Grace, please you to quit
This strange lewd company, they are not for you.

Pec.
No Guardian, I doe like them very well.

P. Se.
Your Graces pleasure be obseru'd, but you
Statute, and Band, and Waxe, will goe with me.

Sat.
Truly we will not.

Ban.
VVe will stay, and wait here
Vpon her Grace, and this your Noble Kinsman.

P. Se.
Noble? how noble! who hath made him noble?

P. Iv.
VVhy, my most noble money hath, or shall;
My Princesse, here. She that had you but kept,
And treated kindly, would haue made you noble,
And wise, too: nay, perhaps haue done that for you,
An Act of Parliament could not, made you honest.
The truth is, Vncle, that her Grace dislikes
Her entertainment: specially her lodging.

Pec.
Nay, say her iaile. Neuer vnfortunate Princesse,
Was vs'd so by a Iaylor. Aske my women,
Band, you can tell, and Statute, how he has vs'd me,
Kept me close prisoner, vnder twenty bolts—

Sta.
And forty padlocks—

Ban.
All malicious ingines
A wicked Smith could forge out of his yron:
As locks, and keyes, shacles, and manacles,
To torture a great Lady.

Sta.
H'has abus'd
Your Graces body.

Pec.
No, he would ha' done,
That lay not in his power: he had the vse
Of our bodies, Band, and Waxe, and sometimes Statutes:
But once he would ha' smother'd me in a chest,
And strangl'd me in leather, but that you
Came to my rescue, then, and gaue mee ayre.

Sta.
For which he cramb'd vs vp in a close boxe,
All three together, where we saw no Sunne
In one sixe moneths.

Wax.
A cruell man he is!

Ban.
H'has left my fellow Waxe out, i'the cold,

Sta.
Till she was stiffe, as any frost, and crumbl'd
Away to dust, and almost lost her forme.

Wax.
Much adoe to recouer me.

P. Se.
Women Ieerers!
Haue you learn'd too, the subtill facultie?
Come, I'll shew you the way home, if drinke,
Or, too full diet haue disguis'd you.

Ban.
Troth,
We haue not any mind, Sir, of returne—

Sta.
To be bound back to backe—

Ban.
And haue our legs
Turn'd in, or writh'd about—

Wax.
Or else display'd—

Sta.
Be lodg'd with dust and fleas, as we were wont—

Ban.
And dyeted with dogs dung.

P. Se.
Why? you whores,
My bawds, my instruments, what should I call you,
Man may thinke base inough for you?

P. Iv.
Heare you, vncle.
I must not heare this of my Princesse seruants,
And in Apollo, in Pecunia's roome,
Goe, get you downe the staires: Home, to your Kennell,
As swiftly as you can. Consult your dogges,
The Lares of your family; or beleeue it,
The fury of a foote-man, and a drawer
Hangs ouer you.

Shv.
Cudgell, and pot doe threaten
A kinde of vengeance.

Mad.
Barbers are at hand.

Alm.
Washing and shauing will ensue.

They all threaten,
Fit.
The Pumpe
Is not farre off; If't were, the sinke is neere:
Or a good Iordan.

Mad.
You haue now no money,

Shv.
But are a Rascall.

P. Se.
I am cheated, robb'd
Ieer'd by confederacy.

Fit.
No, you are kick'd
And spurne him.
And vsed kindly, as you should be.

Shv.
Spurn'd,
From all commerce of men, who ate a curre.

Kicke him, out.
Alm.
A stinking dogge, in a dublet, with foule linnen.

Hee exclaimes.
Mad.
A snarling Rascall, hence.

Shv.
Out.

P. Se.
Wel, remember,
I am coozen'd by my Cousin, and his whore!
Banc o'these meetings in Apollo!

Lic.
Goe, Sir,
One of his Dogges.
You will be tost like Block, in a blanket else.

P. Iv.
Downe with him, Lickfinger.

P. Se.
Saucy Iacke away,
Pecunia is a whore.

P. Iv.
Play him downe, Fidlers,
And drown his noise. Who's this!

Fit.
O Master Pyed-mantle!