University of Virginia Library

Act. I.

Scene. I.

Peni-boy.
Iv. Lether-legge.
Gramercie Letherleg: Get me the Spurrier,
His Shooemaker has pull'd on a new payre of bootes; and hee walks in his Gowne, wast coate, and trouses, expecting his Taylor.
And thou hast fitted me.

Let.
I'll do't presently.

P. Iv.
Look to me, wit, and look to my wit, Land,
That is, looke on me, and with all thine eyes,
Male, Female, yea, Hermaphroditicke eyes,
And those bring all your helpes, and perspicills,
To see me at best aduantage, and augment
My forme as I come forth, for I doe feele
I will be one, worth looking after, shortly.
Now, by and by, that's shortly. He drawes foorth his watch, and sets it on the Table.
't strikes! One, two,
Three, foure, fiue, six. Inough, inough, deare watch,
Thy pulse hath beate inough. Now sleepe, and rest;
Would thou couldst make the time to doe so too:
I'll winde thee vp no more. The houre is come
So long expected! There, there, He throws off his gowne
drop my wardship,
My pupill age, and vassalage together.
And Liberty, come throw thy selfe about me,
In a rich suite, cloake, hat, and band, for now
I'le sue out no mans Liuery, but miny owne,
I stand on my owne feete, so much a yeere,
Right, round, and sound, the Lord of mine owne ground,
And (to ryme to it) threescore thousand Pound!
He goes to the doore, and lookes.
Not come? Not yet? Taylor thou art a vermine,
Worse then the same thou prosecut'st, and prick'st
In subtill seame—(Go too, I say no more)
Thus to retard my longings: on the day
I doe write man, to beat thee. One and twenty,
Since the clock strooke, compleat! and thou wilt feele it
Thou foolish Animall! I could pitty him,
(An' I were not heartily angry with him now)
For this one peece of folly he beares about him,
To dare to tempt the Furie of an heyre,
T'aboue two thousand a yeere; yet hope his custome!
Well, Mr. Fashioner, theres some must breake—
A head, for this your breaking. Are you come, Sir,

Scene. IJ.

Fashioner.
Peniboy. Thomas Barber. Haberdasher.
God giue your worship ioy.

P. Iv.
What? of your staying?
And leauing me to stalke here in my trowses,
Like a tame Her'n-sew for you?

Fas.
I but waited
Below, till the clocke strooke.

P. Iv.
Why, if you had come
Before a quarter, would it so haue hurt you,
In reputation, to haue wayted here?

Fas.
No, but your worship might haue pleaded nonage,
If you had got 'hem on, ere I could make
Iust Affidauit of the time.

P. Iv.
That iest
Has gain'd thy pardon, thou had'st liu'd, condemn'd
To thine owne hell else, neuer to haue wrought
Stitch more for me, or any Peniboy,
I could haue hindred thee: but now thou art mine.
For one and twenty yeeres, or for three liues,
Chuse which thou wilt, I'll make thee a Copy-holder,
He sayes his sute.
And thy first Bill vnquestion'd. Helpe me on.

Fas.
Presently, Sir, I am bound vnto your worship.

P. Iv.
Thou shalt be, when I haue seal'd thee a Lease of my Custome.

Fas.
Your worp s Barbar is without.

P. In.
Who? Thom?
Come in Thom: set thy things vpon the Boord
And spread thy clothes, lay all forth in procinctu,
And tell's what newes?

Tho.
O Sir, a staple of newes!
Or the New Staple, which you please.

P. Iv.
What's that?

Fas.
An Office, Sir, a braue young Office set vp.
I had forgot to tell your worship.

P. Iv.
For what?

Tho.
To enter all the Newes, Sir, o' the time,

Fas.
And vent it as occasion serues! A place
Of huge commerce it will be!

P. Iv.
Pray thee peace,
I cannot abide a talking Taylor: let Thom
(He's a Barber) by his place relate it,
What is't, an Office, Thom?

Tho.
Newly erected
Here in the house, almost on the same floore,
Where all the newes of all sorts shall be brought,
And there be examin'd, and then registred,
And so be issu'd vnder the Seale of the Office,
As Staple Newes; no other newes be currant.

P. Iv.
'Fore me, thou speak'st of a braue busines, Thom.

Fas.
Nay, if you knew the brain that hatch'd it Sr—

P. Iv.
I know thee wel inough: giue him a loaf, Thom—
Quiet his mouth, that Ouen will be venting else.
Proceed—

Tho.
He tels you true Sr. Mr Cymbal,
Is Master of the Office, he proiected it,
Hee lies here i'the house: and the great roomes
He has taken for the Office, and set vp
His Deskes and Classes, Tables and his Shelues,

Fas.
He's my Customer, and a Wit Sir, too.
But, h' has braue wits vnder him—

Tho.
Yes, foure Emissaries.

P. Iv.
Emissaries? stay, there's a fine new word, Thom!
'Pray God it signifie any thing, what are Emissaries?

Tho.
Men imploy'd outward, that are sent abroad
To fetch in the commodity.

Fas.
From all regions
Where the best newes are made.

Tho.
Or vented forth.

Fas.
By way of exchange, or trade.

P. Iv.
Nay, thou wilt speak—

Hee giues the Taylor leaue to talk.
Fas.
My share Sr. there's enough for both.

P. Iv.
Goe on then,
Speake all thou canst: me thinkes, the ordinaries
Should helpe them much.

Fas.
Sir, they haue ordinaries,
And extraordinaries, as many changes,
And variations, as there are points i'the compasse.

Tho.
But the 4. Cardinall Quarters—

P. Iv.
I, those Thom—

Tho.
The Court, Sir, Pauls, Exchange, and Westminster-hall.

P. Iv.
Who is the Chiefe? which hath preceedencie?

Tho.
The gouernour o'the Staple, Master Cymball.
He is the Chiefe; and after him the Emissaries:
First Emissary Court, one Master Fitton,
He's a Ieerer too.

P. Iv.
What's that?

Fas.
A Wit.

Tho.
Or halfe a Wit, some of them are Halfe-wits,
Two to a Wit, there are a set of 'hem.
Then Master Ambler, Emissary Paules,
A fine pac'd gentleman, as you shall see, walke
The middle Ile: And then my Froy Hans Buz,
A Dutch-man; he's Emissary Exhange.

Fas.
I had thought Mr. Burst the Marchant had had it.

Tho.
No,
He has a rupture, hee has sprung a leake,
Emissarie Westminster's vndispos'd of yet;
Then the Examiner, Register, and two Clerkes,
They mannage all at home, and sort, and file,
And seale the newes, and issue them.

P. Iv.
Thom, deare Thom.
What may my meanes doe for thee, aske, and haue it,
I'd faine be doing some good. It is my birth-day.
And I'd doe it betimes, I feele a grudging
Of bounty, and I would not long lye fallow.
I pray thee thinke, and speake, or wish for something.

Tho.
I would I had but one o' the Clerkes places,
I'this Newes Office,.

P. Iv.
Thou shalt haue it, Thom,
If siluer, or gold will fetch it; what's the rate?
At what is't set i'the Mercat?

Tho.
Fiftie pound, Sir.

P. Iv.
An't were a hundred, Thom, thou shalt not want it.

Fas.
The Taylor leapes, and embraceth him.
O Noble Master!

P. Iv.
How now Æsops Asse!
Because I play with Thom, must I needes runne
Into your rude embraces? stand you still, Sir;
Clownes fawnings, are a horses salutations.
How do'st thou like my suite, Thom?

Tho.
Mr Fashioner
Has hit your measures, Sir, h'has moulded you,
And made you, as they say.

Fas.
No, no, not I,
I am an Asse, old Æsops Asse.

P. Iv.
Nay, Fashioner,
I can doe thee a good turne too, be not musty,
Though thou hast moulded me, as little Thom sayes,
He drawes out his pockets.
(I thinke thou hast put me in mouldy pockets.)

Fas.
As good,
Right Spanish perfume, the Lady Estifania's,
They cost twelue pound a payre.

P. Iv.
Thy bill will say so.
I pray thee tell me, Fashioner, what Authors
Thou read'st to helpe thy inuention? Italian prints?
Or Arras hangings? They are Taylors Libraries.

Fas.
I scorne such helps.

P. Iv.
O, though thou art, a silk-worme!
And deal'st in sattins and veluets, and rich plushes,
Thou canst not spin all formes out of thy selfe;
They are quite other things: I thinke this suite
Has made me wittier, then I was.

Fas.
Belieue it Sir,
That clothes doe much vpon the wit, as weather
Do's on the braine; and thence comes your prouerbe;
The Taylor makes the man: I speake by experience
Of my owne Customers. I haue had Gallants,
Both Court and Countrey, would ha' fool'd you vp
In a new suite, with the best wits, in being,
And kept their speed, as long as their clothes lasted
Han'some, and neate; but then as they grew out
At the elbowes againe, or had a staine, or spot,
They haue sunke most wretchedly.

P. Iv.
What thou report'st,
Is but the common calamity, and seene daily;
And therefore you haue another answering prouerbe:
A broken sleeue keepes the arme backe,

Fas.
'Tis true, Sir.
And thence wee say, that such a one playes at peepe arme.

P. Iv.
Doe you so? it is wittily sayd. I wonder, Gentlemen,
And men of meanes will not maintaine themselues
Fresher in wit, I meane in clothes, to the highest.
For hee that's out o' clothes, is out o'fashion,
And out of fashion, is out of countenance,
And out o' countenance, is out o' Wit.
Is not Rogue Haberdasher come?

Hab.
Yes, here, Sir.
They are all about him, busie.
I ha' beene without this halfe houre.

P. Iv.
Giue me my hat.
Put on my Girdle-Rascall, sits my Ruffe well?

Lin.
In print.

P. Iv.
Slaue.

Lin.
See your selfe.

P. Iv.
Is this same hat
O' the blocke passant? Doe not answer mee,
I cannot stay for an answer. I doe feele
The powers of one and twenty, like a Tide
Flow in vpon mee, and perceiue an Heyre,
Can Coniure vp all spirits in all circles,
Rogue, Rascall, Slaue, giue tradesmen their true names,
And they appeare to 'hem presently.

Lin.
For profit.

P. Iv.
Come, cast my cloake about me, I'll goe see,
This Office Thom, and be trimm'd afterwards.
I'll put thee in possession, my prime worke!
Gods so: my Spurrier! put 'hem on boy, quickly,
I'had like to ha lost my Spurres with too much speed.

His Spurrier comes in.

Scene IIJ.

Peni-boy, Canter.
to them singing.
Good morning to my Ioy. My iolly Peni-boy!
The Lord, and the Prince of plenty!
I come to see what riches, Thou bearest in thy breeches,
The first of thy one and twenty:
What, doe thy pockets gingle? Or shall wee neede to mingle
Our strength both of foote, and horses!
These fellows looke so eager. As if they would beleaguer
An Heyre in the midst of his forces!
I hope they be no Serieants! That hang vpon thy margents.
This Rogue has the Ioule of a Iaylor!

P. Iv.
O Founder, no such matter, My Spurrier, and my Hatter,
The young Peny-boy answers in tune.
My Linnen-man, and my Taylor.
Thou should'st haue beene brought in too, Shoomaker,
If the time had beene longer, and Thom Barber.
How do'st thou like my company, old Canter?
Doe I not muster a braue troupe? all Bill-men?
Present your Armes, before my Founder here,
This is my Founder, this same learned Canter!
He brought me the first newes of my fathers death,
He takes the bils, and puts them vp in his pockets.
I thanke him, and euer since, I call him Founder,
Worship him, boyes, I'll read onely the summes.
And passe 'hem streight.

Sho.
Now Ale.

Rest.
And strong Ale blesse him.

P. Iv.
Gods so, some Ale, and Sugar for my Founder!
Good Bills, sufficient Bills, these Bills may passe.

P. Ca.
I do not like those paper-squibs, good Master.
They may vndoe your store, I meane, of Credit,
And fire your Arsenall, if case you doe not
In time make good those outerworkes, your pockets,
And take a Garrison in of some two hundred,
To beat these Pyoners off, that carry a Mine
Would blow you vp, at last. Secure your Casamates,
Here Master Picklocke, Sir, your man o' Law,
And learn'd Atturney, has sent you a Bag of munition.

P. Iv.
What is't?

P. Ca.
Three hundred pieces.

P. Iv.
I'll dispatch 'hem.

P. Ca.
Do, I would haue your strengths lin'd, and perfum'd
With Gold, as well as Amber.

P. Iv.
God a mercy,
Come, Ad soluendum, boyes! there, there, and there, &c.
He payes all.
I looke on nothing but Totalis.

P. Ca.
See!
The difference 'twixt the couetous, and the prodigall!
“The Couetous man neuer has money! and
“The Prodigal will haue none shortly!

P. Iv.
Ha,
“What saies my Founder? I thanke you, I thanke you Sirs.

All.
God blesse your worship, and your worships Chanter.

P. Ca.
I say 't is nobly done, to cherish Shop-keepers,
And pay their Bills, without examining thus.

P. Iv.
Alas! they haue had a pittifull hard time on't,
A long vacation, from their coozening.
Poore Rascalls, I doe doe it out of charity.
I would aduance their trade againe, and haue them
Haste to be rich, sweare, and forsweare wealthily,
What doe you stay for, Sirrah?

Spv.
To my boxe Sir,

P. Iv.
Your boxe, why, there's an angel, if my Spurres
He giues the Spurrier, to his boxe.
Be not right Rippon.

Sev.
Giue me neuer a penny
If I strike not thorow your bounty with the Rowells.

P. Iv.
Do'st thou want any money Founder?

P. Ca.
Whos, Sr. I,
Did I not tell you I was bred i' the Mines,
Vnder Sir Beuis Bullion.

P. Iv.
That is true,
I quite forgot, you Myne-men want no money,
Your streets are pau'd with't: there, the molten siluer
Runns out like creame, on cakes of gold.

P. Ca.
And Rubies
Doe grow like Strawberries.

P. Iv.
'Twere braue being there!
Come Thom, we'll go to the Office now.

P. Ca.
What Office?

P. Iv.
Newes Office, the New Staple; thou shalt goe too,
'Tis here i'the house, on the same floore, Thom. sayes,
Come, Founder, let vs trade in Ale, and nutmegges.

Scene. IIII.

Register.
Clerke. VVoman.
VVhat, are those Desks fit now? set forth the Table,
The Carpet and the Chayre: where are the Newes
That were examin'd last? ha' you fil'd them vp?

Cle.
Not yet, I had no time.

Reg.
Are those newes registred,
That Emissary Buz sent in last night?
Of Spinola, and his Egges?

Cle.
Yes Sir, and fil'd.

Reg.
What are you now vpon?

Cle.
That our new Emissary Westminster, gaue vs, of the Golden Heyre.

Reg.
Dispatch, that's newes indeed, and of importance.
What would you haue good woman?

Wo.
I would haue Sir,
A country-woman waites there.
A groatsworth of any Newes, I care not what,
To carry downe this Saturday, to our Vicar.

Reg.
O! You are a Butterwoman, aske Nathaniel
The Clerke, there.

Cle.
Sir, I tell her, she must stay
Till Emissary Exchange, or Pauls send in,
And then I'll fit her.

Reg.
Doe good woman, haue patience,
It is not now, as when the Captaine liu'd.

Cle.
You'll blast the reputation of the office,
Now i'the Bud, if you dispatch these Groats,
So soone: let them attend in name of policie.

Scene. V.

Peniboy.
Cymbal. Fitton. Tho: Barber. Canter.
In troth they are dainty roomes; what place is this?

Cym.
This is the outer roome, where my Clerkes sit,
And keepe their sides, the Register i'the midst,
The Examiner, he sits priuate there, within,
And here I haue my seuerall Rowles, and Fyles
Of Newes by the Alphabet, and all put vp
Vnder their heads.

P. Iv.
But those, too, subdiuided?

Cym.
Into Authenticall, and Apocryphall.

Fit.
Or Newes of doubtfull credit, as Barbers newes.

Cym.
And Taylors Newes, Porters, and Watermens newes,

Fit.
Whereto, beside the Coranti, and Gazetti.

Cym.
I haue the Newes of the season.

Fit.
As vacation Newes,
Terme-newes, and Christmas-newes.

Cim.
And newes o' the faction,

Fit.
As the Reformed newes, Protestant newes,

Cym.
And Pontificiall newes, of all which seuerall,
The Day-bookes, Characters, Precedents are kept.
Together with the names of special friends—

Fit.
And men of Correspondence i'the Countrey—

Cym.
Yes, of all ranks, and all Religions.—

Fit.
Factors, and Agents—

Cym.
Liegers, that lie out
Through all the Shires o'the kingdome.

P. Iv.
This is fine!
And beares a braue relation! but what sayes
Mercurius Britannicus to this?

Cym.
O Sir, he gaines by't halfe in halfe.

Fit.
Nay more
I'll stand to't. For, where he was wont to get
In, hungry Captaines, obscure Statesmen.

Cym.
Fellowes
To drinke with him in a darke roome in a Tauerne,
And eat a Sawsage.

Fit.
We ha' seen't,

Cym.
As faine,
To keepe so many politique pennes
Going, to feed the presse.

Fit.
And dish out newes,
Were't true, or false.

Cym.
Now all that charge is sau'd
The publique Chronicler.

Fit.
How, doe you call him there?

Cym.
And gentle Reader.

Fit.
He that has the maidenhead
Of all the bookes.

Cym.
Yes, dedicated to him,

Fit.
Or rather prostituted.

P. Iv.
You are right, Sir.

Cym.
No more shall be abus'd, nor countrey-Parsons
O' the Inquisition, nor busie Iustices,
Trouble the peace, and both torment themselues,
And their poore ign'rant Neighbours with enquiries
After the many, and most innocent Monsters,
That neuer came i'th' Counties they were charg'd with.

P. Iv.
Why, me thinkes Sir, if the honest common people
Will be abus'd, why should not they ha' their pleasure,
In the belieuing Lyes, are made for them;
As you i'th' Office, making them your selves?

Fit.
O Sir! it is the printing we oppose.

Cym.
We not forbid that any Newes, be made,
But that't be printed; for when Newes is printed,
It leaues Sir to be Newes. while 'tis but written—

Fit.
Though it be ne're so false, it runnes Newes still.

P. Iv.
See diuers mens opinions! vnto some,
The very printing of them, makes them Newes;
That ha' not the heart to beleeue any thing,
But what they see in print.

Fit.
I, that's an Error
Ha's abus'd many; but we shall reforme it,
As many things beside (we haue a hope)
Are crept among the popular abuses.

Cym.
Nor shall the Stationer cheat vpon the Time,
By buttering ouer againe—

Fit.
once, in Seuen Yeares,
As the age doates—

Cym.
And growes forgetfull o' them,
His antiquated Pamphlets, with new dates.
But all shall come from the Mint.

Fit.
Fresh and new stamp'd,

Cym.
With the Office-Seale, Staple Commoditie.

Fit.
And if a man will assure his Newes, he may:
Two-pence a Sheet he shall be warranted,
And haue a policie for't.

P. Iv.
Sir, I admire
The method o'your place; all things within't
Are so digested, fitted, and compos'd,
As it shewes Wit had married Order.

Fit.
Sir.

Cym.
The best wee could to inuite the Times.

Fit.
It ha's
Cost sweat, and freesing.

Cym.
And some broken sleepes
Before it came to this.

P. Iv.
I easily thinke it.

Fit.
But now it ha's the shape—

Cym.
And is come forth.

P. Iv.
A most polite neat thing! with all the limbs,
As sense can tast!

Cym.
It is Sir, though I say it,
As well-begotten a busines, and as fairely
Helpt to the World.

P. Iv.
You must be a Mid-wife Sir!
Or els the sonne of a Mid-wife! (pray you pardon me)
Haue helpt it forth so happily! what Newes ha' you?
Newes o' this morning? I would faine heare some
Fresh, from the forge (as new as day, as they say.)

Cym.
And such he haue Sir.

Reg.
Shew him the last Rowle,
Of Emissary West-minster's, The Heire.

P. Iv.
Come nearer, Thom:

Cla.
There is a braue yong Heire
Peny reioyceth, that he is in.
Is come of age this morning, Mr. Peny-boy.

P. Iv.
That's I!

Cla.
His Father dy'd on this day seuenth-night.

P. Iv.
True!

Cla.
At sixe o'the Clocke i'the morning, iust a weeke
Tels Thom: of it.
Ere he was One and Twenty.

P. Iv.
I am here, Thom!
Proceed, I pray thee.

Cla.
An old Canting Begger
Brought him first Newes, whom he has entertain'd,
Call in the Canter. Hee giues the Clarke.
To follow him, since.

P. Iv.
Why, you shall see him! Founder,
Come in; no Follower, but Companion,
I pray thee put him in, Friend. There's an Angell—
Thou do'st not know, hee's a wise old Fellow,
Though he seeme patch'd thus, and made vp o' peeces.
Founder, we are in, here, in, i'the Newes-Office!
In this dayes Rowle, already! I doe muse
How you came by vs Sir's!

Cym.
One Master Pick-locke
A Lawyer, that hath purchas'd here a place,
This morning, of an Emissary vnder me.

Fit.
Emissarie Westminster.

Cym.
Gaue it into th'Office,

Fit.
For his Essay, his peece.

P. Iv.
My man o' Law!
Hee's my Attorney, and Sollicitour too!
A fine pragmaticke! what's his place worth?

Cym.
A Nemo-scit, Sir.

Fit.
'Tis as Newes come, in,

Cym.
And as they are issued. I haue the iust meoytie
For my part: then the other moeytie
Is parted into seuen. The foure Emissaries;
Whereof my Cozen Fitton here's for Court,
Ambler for Pauls, and Buz for the Exchange,
Picklocke, for Westminster, with the Examiner,
And Register, they haue full parts: and then one part
Is vnder-parted to a couple of Clarkes;
And there's the iust diuision of the profits!

P. Iv.
Ha' you those Clarks Sir.

Cym.
There is one Desk empty,
But it has many Suitors.

P. Iv.
Sir, may I
Present one more and carry it, if his parts
Or Gifts, (which you will, call 'hem)

Cym.
Be sufficient Sir.

P. Iv.
What are your present Clarkes habilities?
How is he qualified?

Cym.
A decay'd Stationer
He was, but knowes Newes well, can sort and ranke 'hem.

Fit.
And for a need can make 'hem.

Cym.
True Paules bred,
I'the Church-yard.

P. Iv.
And this at the West-dore,
O'th other side, hee's my Barber Thom,
A pretty Scholler, and a Master of Arts,
Was made, or went out Master of Arts in a throng,
At the Vniuersitie; as before, one Christmas,
He got into a Masque at Court, by his wit,
And the good meanes of his Cythern, holding vp thus
For one o'the Musique, Hee's a nimble Fellow?
And alike skil'd in euery liberall Science,
As hauing certaine snaps of all, a neat,
Quick-vaine, in forging Newes too. I doe loue him,
And promis'd him a good turne, and I would doe it.
Whats your price? the value?

Cym.
Fifty pounds, Sr.

P. Iv.
Get in Thom, take possession, I install thee;
Here, tell your money; giue thee ioy, good Thom;
Hee buyes Thom a Clerkes place.
And let me heare from thee euery minute of Newes,
While the New Staple stands, or the Office lasts,
Which I doe wish, may ne're be lesse for thy sake.

Cla.
The Emissaries, Sir, would speake with you,
And Master Fitton, they haue brought in Newes,
Three Bale together.

Cym.
Sr, you are welcome, here.

They take leaue of Peny-boy, and Canter.
Fit.
So is your creature.

Cym.
Businesse calls vs off, Sir,
That may concerne the Office.

P. Iv.
Keepe me faire, Sir,
Still i'your Staple, I am here your friend,
On the same flooer.

Fit.
We shall be your seruants.

P. Iv.
How dost thou like it, Founder?

P. Ca.
All is well,
But that your man o' law me thinks appeares not
In his due time. O! Here comes Masters worship.

Scene. VI.

Picklock.
Peni-boy. Iv. P. Canter.
How do's the Heyre, bright Master Peniboy?
Is hee awake yet in his One and Twenty?
Why, this is better farre, then to weare Cypresse,
Dull smutting gloues, or melancholy blacks,
And haue a payre of twelue-peny broad ribbands
Laid out like Labells.

P. Iv.
I should ha' made shift
To haue laught as heartily in my mourners hood,
As in this Suite, if it had pleas'd my father
To haue beene buried, with the Trumpeters:

Pic.
The Heralds of Armes, you meane.

P. Iv.
I meane,
All noyse, that is superfluous!

Pic.
All that idle pompe,
And vanity of a Tombe-stone, your wise father
Did, by his will, preuent. Your worship had—

P. Iv.
A louing and obedient father of him,
I know it: a right, kinde-natur'd man,
To dye soopportunely.

Pic.
And to settle
All things so well, compounded for your ward ship
The weeke afore, and left your state entyre
Without any charge vpon't.

P. Iv.
I must needes say,
I lost an Officer of him, a good Bayliffe,
And I shall want him; but all peace be with him,
I will not wish him aliue, againe; not I,
For all my Fortune; giue your worship ioy
O' your new place, your Emissary-ship,
I'the Newes Office.

Pic.
Know you, why I bought it Sr?

P. Iv.
Not I.

Pic.
To worke for you, and carry a myne
Against the Master of it, Master Cymball;
Who hath a plot vpon a Gentlewoman,
Was once design'd for you, Sir.

P. Iv.
Me?

Pic.
Your father,
Old Master Peni-boy, of happy memory,
And wisdome too, as any i'the County,
Carefull to finde out a fit match for you,
In his owne life time (but hee was preuented)
Left it in writing in a Schedule here,
To be annexed to his Will; that you,
His onely Sonne, vpon his charge, and blessing,
Should take due notice of a Gentlewoman,
Soiourning with your vncle, Richer Peni-boy.

P. Iv.
A Cornish Gentlewoman, I doe know her,
Mistresse, Pecunia doe-all.

Pic.
A great Lady,
Indeede shee is, and not of mortall race,
Infanta of the Mines; her Graces Grandfather,
Was Duke, and Cousin to the King of Ophyr,
The Subterranean, let that passe. Her name is
Or rather, her three names are (for such shee is)
Aurelia Clara Pecunia, A great Princesse
Of mighty power, though shee liue in priuate
With a contracted family! Her Secretary—

P. Ca.
Who is her Gentleman-vsher too.

Pic.
One Broker,
And then two Gentlewomen; Mistresse Statute,
And Mistresse Band, with Waxe the Chambermaide,
And Mother Mortgage, the old Nurse, two Groomes,
Pawne, and his fellow; you haue not many to bribe, Sir.
The worke is feizible, and th'approches easie,
By your owne kindred. Now, Sir, Cymball thinkes,
The Master here, and gouernor o' the Staple,
By his fine arts, and pompe of his great place
To draw her! He concludes, shee is a woman!
And that so soone as sh' heares of the New Office,
Shee'll come to visit it, as they all haue longings
After new sights, and motions! But your bounty,
Person, and brauery must atchieue her.

P. Ca.
Shee is
The talke o' the time! th'aduenture o' the age!

Pic.
You cannot put your selfe vpon an action
Of more importance.

P. Ca.
All the world are suiters to her.

Pic.
All sorts of men, and all professions!

P. Ca.
You shall haue stall-fed Doctors, cram'd Diuines
Make loue to her, and with those studied
And perfum'd flatteries, as no rome can stinke
More elegant, then where they are.

Pic.
Well changed
Old Canter thou singst true.

P. Ca.
And (by your leaue)
Good Masters worship, some of your veluet coate
Make corpulent curt'sies to her, till they cracke for't.

Pic.
There's Doctor Almanack wooes her, one of the Ieerers,
A fine Physitian.

P. Ca.
Your Sea-captaine, Shun-field,
Giues out hee'll goe vpon the Cannon for her.

Pic.
Though his lowd mouthing get him little credit,

P. Ca.
Young Master Pyed-mantle, the fine Herrald
Professes to deriuer her through all ages,
From all the Kings, and Queenes, that euer were.

Pic.
And Master Madrigall, the crowned Poet
Of these our times, doth offer at her praises
As faire as any, when it shall please Apollo,
That wit and rime may meete both in one subiect.

P. Ca.
And you to beare her from all these, it will be—

Pic.
A work of fame.

P. Ca.
Of honor.

Pic.
Celebration.

P. Ca.
Worthy your name.

Pic.
The Peni-boyes to liue in't,

P. Ca.
It is an action you were built for, Sir,

Pic.
And none but you can doe it.

P. Iv.
I'll vndertake it,

P. Ca.
And carry it.

P. Iv.
Feare me not, for since I came
Of mature age, I haue had a certaine itch
In my right eye, this corner, here, doe you see?
To doe some worke, and worthy of a Chronicle.

The first Intermeane after the first Act.

Mirth.

How now Gossip! how doe's the Play please you?

Censvre.

Very scuruily, me thinks, and sufficiently naught.

Expectation.

As a body would wish: here's nothing but a young
Prodigall, come of age, who makes much of the Barber, buyes him a
place in a new Office, i' the ayre, I know not where, and his man o' Law to
follow him, with the Begger to boote, and they two helpe him to a wife.

Mirth.

I, shee is a proper piece! that such creatures can broke for.

Tatle.

I cannot abide that nasty fellow, the Begger, if hee had beene
a Court-Begger in good clothes; a Begger in veluet, as they say, I could
haue endur'd him.

Mirth.

Or a begging scholler in blacke, or one of these beggerly
Poets, gossip, that would hang vpon a young heyre like a horseleech.

Expec.

Or a thred-bare Doctor of Physicke, a poore Quackesaluer.

Censvre.

Or a Sea-captaine, halfe steru'd.

Mirth.

I, these were tolerable Beggers, Beggers of fashion! you
shall see some such anon!

Tatle.

I would faine see the Foole, gossip, the Foole is the finest
man t'the company, they say, and has all the wit: Hee is the very Iustice
o' Peace o'the Play, and can cemmit whom hee will, and what hee will,
errour, absurdity, as the toy takes him, and no man say, blacke is his eye,
but laugh at him.

Mirth.

But they ha' no Foole i' this Play, I am afraid, gossip.

Tatle.

It's a wise Play, then.

Expectation.

They are all fooles, the rather, in that.

Censvre.

Like enough.

Tatle.

My husband, (Timony Tatle, God rest his poore soule)
was wont to say, there was no Play without a Foole, and a Diuell in't; he
was for the Diuell still, God blesse him. The Diuell for his money would
hee say, I would faine see the Diuell. And why would you so faine see the
Diuell? would I say. Because hee has hornes, wife, and may be a cuckold,
as well as a Diuell, hee would answer: You are e'en such another, husband,
quoth I. Was the Diuell euer married? where doe you read, the Diuell
was euer so honorable to commit Matrimony; The Play will tell vs,
that, sayes hee, wee'll goe see't to morrow, the Diuell is an Asse. Hee is
an errant learn'd man, that made it, and can write, they say, and I am
fouly deceiu'd, but hee can read too.

Mirth.

I remember it gossip, I went with you, by the same token,
Mr s. Trouble Truth diswaded vs, and told vs, hee was a prophane Poet,
and all his Playes had Diuels in them. That he kept schole vpo' the Stage,
could coniure there, aboue the Schole of Westminster, and Doctor
Lamb too: not a Play he made, but had a Diuell in it. And that he would
learne vs all to make our husbands Cuckolds at Playes: by another token,
that a young married wife i' the company, said, shee could finde in her heart
to steale thither, and see a little o' the vanity through her masque, and come
practice at home.

Tatle.
O, it was, Mistresse—

Mirth.
Nay, Gossip, I name no body. It may be 'twas my selfe.

Expectation.
But was the Diuell a proper man, Gossip?

Mirth.

As fine a gentleman, of his inches, as euer I saw trusted to the
Stage, any where else: and lou'd the common wealth, as well as ere a Patriot
of 'hem all: hee would carry away the Vice on his backe, quicke to
Hell, in euery Play where he came, and reforme abuses.

Expectation.

There was the Diuell of Edmonton, no such man,
I warrant you.

Censvre.

The Coniurer coosen'd him with a candles end, hee was
an Asse.

Mirth.

But there was one Smug, a Smith, would haue made a horse
laugh, and broke his halter, as they say.

Tatle.

O, but the poore man had got a shrewd mischance, one day.

Expectation.

How, Gossip?

Tatle.

He had drest a Rogue Iade i' the morning, that had the Staggers,
and had got such a spice of 'hem himselfe, by noone, as they would not
away all the Play time, doe what hee could, for his heart.

Mirth.

'Twas his part, Gossip, he was to be drunke, by his part.

Tatle.

Say you so, I vnderstood not so much.

Expecta.

Would wee had such an other part, and such a man in
this play, I feare 'twill be an excellent dull thing.

Censvre.

Expect, intend it.