 | VVit At severall VVeapons |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Lady, Gentry, and Servants.Serv.
Nay Lady.
Lady.
Put me not in minde on't prethee,
You cannot do a greater wrong to women,
For in our wants, 'tis the most chiefe affliction
To have that name remembred; 'tis a title
That misery workes us by, and the worlds malice,
Scorne and contempt has not where with to work
On humble Callings; they are safe, and lye
Levell with pitty still, and pale distresse
Is no great stranger to 'em; but when fortune
Lookes with a stormy face on our conditions,
We finde affliction worke, and envie pastime,
And our worst enemy then that most abuses us,
Is that we are call'd by, Lady, O my spirit,
Will nothing make thee humble? I am well methinkes,
And can live quiet with my fate sometimes,
Untill I looke into the world agen,
Then I begin to rave at my stars bitternesse,
To see how many muckhills plac'd above me;
Peasants and Droyles, Caroches full of Dunghills,
Whose very birth stinkes in a generous nostrill,
Glistring by night like Glow-wormes through the High-streets,
Hurried by Torch-light in the Foot-mans hands
That shew like running Fire-drakes through the City,
And I put to my shifts and wits to live,
Nay sometimes danger too; on Foot, on Horse-back,
And earne my supper manfully ere I get it,
Many a meale I have purchas'd at that rate,
Enter Priscian.
Fed with a wound upon me, stampt at midnight.
Hah, what are you?
Pris.
Now you may tell your selfe Lady.
Pulls off's beard.
Lady.
Oh Mr. Priscian, what's the project,
For you ne're come without one.
Pris.
First, your Husband,
Sir Ruinous Gentry greetes you with best wishes,
And here has sent you your full share by me
In five Cheates, and two Robberies.
Lady.
And what comes it too?
Pris.
Neare upon thirteene pound.
Lady.
A goodly share,
'Twill put a Lady scarce in Philip and Cheyney,
VVith three small Bugle Laces, like a Chamber-maid,
Here's pretious lifting.
Pris.
'Lasse you must consider, Lady,
'Tis but young Tearm, Atturnies ha small doings yet,
Then High-way Lawyers, they must needs ha little,
Wee'ne had no great good luck to speake troth Beauty,
Since your stout Lady-ship parted from's at Hye-gate,
But there's a faire hope now for a present hunder'd,
Here's mans Apparrell, your Horse stands at doore.
Lady.
And what's the vertuous plot now?
Pris.
Marry Lady,
You like a brave young Gallant must be rob'd.
Lady.
I rob'd?
Pris.
Nay then—
Lady.
Well, well, go on, let's heare Sir.
Pris.
Here's a seal'd bag of a Hunder'd, which indeed
Are Counters all, only some sixteen Groates
Of white money i'the mouth on't.
Lady.
So, what Saddle have I?
Pris.
Mounsieur Laroon's the French-mans.
Lady.
That agen,
You know so well it is not for my stride,
How oft have I complain'd on't?
Pris.
You may have Jockey's then, the little Scotch one,
You must dispatch.
Exit Pris.
Lady.
Ile soone by ready Sir,
Before you ha shifted Saddles, many women
Have their wealth flow to 'em, I was made I see
To help my fortune, not my fortune me.
Exit.
Enter Cuningame.
Cun.
My wayes are Goblin-led, and the night Elfe
Still drawes me from my home, yet I follow,
Sure 'tis not altogether fabulous,
Such Haggs do get dominion of our tongues
So soone as we speake, the Inchantment bindes;
I have dissembled such a trouble on me,
As my best wits can hardly cleare agen;
Piping through this old Reede, the Gardianesse,
With purpose that my harmony shall reach
And please the Ladies eare, she stops below,
And ecchoes back my love unto my lips,
Perswaded by most violent arguments
Of selfe-love in her selfe; I am so selfe-foole,
To doat upon her hunder'd-wrinckl'd face;
I could begger her to accept the gifts
She would throw upon me; 'twere charity,
But for pitties sake I will be a niggard
And undo her, refusing to take from her;
I'me haunted agen, if it take not now
I'le breake the Spell.
Enter Gardianesse.
Gard.
Sweet Cuningame, welcome;
What? a whole day absent? Birds that build Nests
Have care to keep 'em.
Cun.
That's granted,
But not continually to sit upon 'em;
Lesse in the youngling season, else they desire
To fly abroad, and recreate their labours,
Then they returne with fresher appetite
To worke agen.
Gard.
Well, well, you have built a nest
That will stand all stormes, you need not mistrust
A weather-wrack, and one day it may be
The youngling season too, then I hope
You'le ne're fly out of sight.
Cun.
There will be paines,
I see to shake this Bur off, and sweetest,
Prethee how fares thy charge? has my good friend
Sir Gregory the countenance of a Lover?
Gard.
No by my troth, not in my minde, me thinkes
(Setting his Worship aside) he lookes like a foole.
Cun.
Nay ifaith, ne're divide his Worship from him for that
Small matter; Foole and Worship are no such
Strangers now adaies, but my meaning is,
Has he thy Ladies countenance of love?
Lookes she like a welcome on him? plainely,
Have they as good hope of one another,
As Cupid blesse us, we have?
Gard.
Troth I know not,
I can perceive no forwardnesse in my charge,
But I protest I wish the Knight better
For your sake, Bird.
Cun.
Why thanks sweet Bird, and with my heart I wish,
That he had as strong and likely hope of her
Gard.
Well, he's like to speed
Ne're the worse for that good wish, and ile tell you
Bird (for secrets are not to be kept betwixt us two)
My charge thinkes well of you.
Cun.
Of me? for what?
Gard.
For my sake, I meane so, I have heard her
A hundred times since her Unckle gave her
The first bob about you, that she'de do somewhat
For my sake if things went well together,
We have spoke of doores and bolts, and things and things,
Go too, ile tell you all, but, you'le finde
Some advancement for my sake I do beleeve.
Cun.
Faith be not sparing, tell me.
Gard.
By my Lady
You shall pardon me for that, 'twere a shame
If men should heare all that women speakes behinde
Their backes sometimes.
Cun.
You must give me leave yet,
At least to give her thankes.
Gard.
Nor that neither,
She must not take a notice of my blabbing,
It is sufficient you shall give me thankes,
For 'tis for my sake if she be bountifull,
She loves me, and loves you too for my sake.
Cun.
How shall I knowing this but he ingrate,
Not to repay her with my dearest duty.
Gard.
I, but you must not know it, if you tell
All that I open to you, you'le shame us both;
A far off you may kisse your hand, blush, or so,
But i'le allow no nearer conference.
Cun.
Whoope! you'le be jealous I perceive now.
Gard.
Jealous? why there'e no true love without it, Bird,
I must be jealous of thee, but for her,
(Were it within my duty to my Master)
I durst trust her with the strongest tempter,
And I dare sweare her now as pure a Virgin
As e're was welcom'd to a marriage bed,
If thoughts may be untainted, hers are so.
Cun.
And where's the cause of your feare then?
Gard.
Well, well;
When things are past, and the wedding Torches
Lighted at matches, to kindle better fire,
Then ile tell you more.
Cun.
Come, come, I see further,
That if we were married you'de be jealous.
Gard.
I protest I should a little, but not of her,
It is the married woman (if you mark it)
And not the maid that longs, the appetite
Followes the first taste, when we have relisht
We wish cloying, the taste once pleas'd before,
Then our desine is whetted on to more,
But I reveale too much to you, ifaith Bird.
Cun.
Not a whit 'faith, Bird, betwixt you and I,
I am beholding for bettering of my knowledge.
Gard.
Nay you shall know more of me if you'le be rul'd,
But make not things common.
Cun.
Vd' so, your Lady?
Gard.
I, 'tis no matter, she'le like well of this,
Our familiarity is her content.
Enter Neece and Clowne.
Nee.
This present from Sir Gregory?
Clow.
From my Master, the Worshipfull right Sir Gregory Fop.
Nee.
A Ruffe? and what might be his high conceit
In sending of a Ruffe?
Clow.
I thinke he had two conceits in it forsooth, too high too
Low, Ruffe high, because as the Ruffe does embrace your
necke all day, so does he desire to throw his Knightly
armes.
Neece.
But then I leave him off a nights.
Clow.
Why then he is ruffe low, a ruffian, a bold adventerous
errant to do any rough service for his Lady.
Nee.
A witty and unhappy conceit, do's he meane
As he seemes to say unto that reverence?
Toward Cuning.
He does wooe her sure.
Clow.
To tell you truth Lady, his conceit was far better
then I have blaz'd it yet.
Nee.
Do you think so, Sir?
Clow.
Nay I know it forsooth, for it was two dayes ere
he compass'd it, to finde a fitting present for your Ladyship,
he was sending once a very fine Puppy to you.
Nee.
And that he would have brought himselfe.
Clow.
So he would indeed, but then he alter'd his devise,
and sent this Ruffe, requesting withall, that whensoever
it is foule, you (with your owne hands) would bestow
the starching of it.
Nee.
Else she wooes him, now his eyes shoots this way;
And what was the reason for that Sir?
Toward Cun.
Clow.
There lyes his maine conceit, Lady, for sayes he,
In so doing she cannot chuse but in the starching to clap
it often between her hands, and so she gives a great liking
and applause to my present, whereas if I should send a
Puppy; she ever calls it to her with Irist, hisse, hisse, which
is a fearefull disgrace, he drew the devise from a Play, at
the Bull tother day.
Nee.
I marry Sir, this was a rich conceit indeed.
Clow.
And far fetch'd, therefore good for you Lady-
Gard.
How now? which way looke you, Bird?
Cun.
At the Foole Bird shall I not look at the Foole?
Gard.
At the Foole and I here? what need that? pray look this way.
Nee.
Ile fit him aptly, either ile awake
His wits (if he have any) or force him
To appeare (as yet I cannot think him)
Without any, Sirrah, tell me one thing true
That I shall aske you now, Was this devise
Your Masters owne? I doubt his wit in it;
He's not so ingenious.
Clow.
His owne I assure you, Madam.
Nee.
Nay, you must not lye.
Clow.
Not with a Lady, i'de rather lye with you then
lye with my Master, by your leave in such a case as this.
Gard.
Yet agen your eye?
Cun.
The Foole makes mirth ifaith,
I would heare some.
Gard.
Come, you shall heare none but me.
Nee.
Come hither friend, nay come nearer me; did
Thy Master send thee to me? he may be wise,
But did not shew it much in that; men sometimes
May wrong themselves unawares, when they least thinke on't;
Was Uulcan ever so unwise, to send Mars
To be his spokesman when he went a wooing?
Send thee? heigh-ho, a pretty rowling eye.
Clow.
I can turne up the white and the black too, and need be, forsooth.
Nee.
Why, here's an amorous nose.
Clow.
You see the worst of my nose, forsooth.
Nee.
A cheek, how I could put it now in dalliance,
A paire of lips, on that we were uney'd,
I could suck Sugar from 'em, what a beard's here?
When will the Knight thy Master have such a
Stampe of man-hood on his face? nay, do not blush.
Clow.
'Tis nothing but my flesh and blood that rises so.
Cun.
Death, she courts the Foole.
Gard.
Away, away, 'tis sport, do not minde it.
Nee.
Give me thy hand, come be familiar;
I, here's a promising palme; what a soft
With Flocks and quilted Straw, thy Knights fingers
Are leane mattrice rubbers to these Feathers,
I prethee let me leane my cheeke upon't,
What a soft pillow's here?
Clow.
Hum, umh, hu, hum.
Neece.
Why there's a courage in that lively passion,
Measure thee all o're, there's not a limbe
But has his full proportion; it is my voyce,
There's no compare betwixt the Knight and thee,
The goodlier man by halfe, at once now
I see thee all over.
Clow.
If you had seen me swim tother day on my back,
you would have sed you had seene, there was two Chambermaids
that saw me, and my leggs by chance were tangled
in the flags, and when they saw how I was hang'd,
they cryed out, O help the man for feare he be drown'd.
Neece.
They could do no lesse in pitty, come, thine arme,
wee'le walke together.
Cun.
Blindnesse of Love and Women, why she dotes
upon the Foole.
Gard.
What's that to you, minde her not.
Cun.
Away you Burre.
Gard.
How's that?
Cun.
Hang of Fleshook, fasten thine itchy claspe
On some dry Toad-stoole that will kindle with thee,
And burne together.
Gard.
Oh abominable,
Why do you not love me?
Cun.
No, never did?
I tooke thee downe a little way to
Enforce a Vomit from my offended stomack,
Now thou'rt up agen I loath thee filthily.
Gard.
Oh Villaine.
Cun.
Why dost thou not see a sight
Would make a man abjure the sight of women.
Nee.
Ha, ha, ha, he's vext; ha, ha, ha,
Ha, ha, ha.
Gard.
Why dost thou laugh?
Because thou laugh'st, nothing else ifaith.
Cun.
She has but mockt my folly, else she findes not
The bosome of my purpose, some other way
Must make me know; ile try her, and may chance quit
The fine dexterity of her Lady-wit.
Exit.
Nee.
Yes introth, I laught to think of thy Master,
Now, what he would think if he knew this?
Clow.
By my troth I laugh at him too, faith Sirrah,
hee's but a foole to say the truth, though I say't that
should not say't.
Nee.
Yes, thou shouldst say truth, and I beleeve thee;
Well, for this time wee'le part, you perceive something,
Our tongues betray our hearts, there's our weaknesse,
But pray be silent.
Clow.
As Mouse in Cheese, or Goose in Hay ifaith.
Neece.
Looke, we are cut off, there's my hand where my lips would be.
Clow.
Ile wink and think 'em thy lips, farewell.
Exit.
Nee.
Now Gardionesse, I need not aske where you have been.
Gard.
O Lady, never was woman so abus'd
Clow.
Do'st thou heare Lady sweet-heart, I had forgot
to tell thee, if you will I will come back in the Evening?
Nee.
By no meanes, come not till I send for you.
Clow.
If there be any need, you may think of things when
I am gone, I may be convey'd into your chamber, ile lye under
the bed while midnight, or so, or you shall put me up
in one of your little boxes, I can creep in at a small hole.
Nee.
These are things I dare not venter, I charge you on
my love never come till I send for you.
Clow.
Verbum insapienti, 'tis enough to the wise, nor I
think it is not fit the Knight should know any thing yet.
Nee.
By no meanes, pray you go now, we are suspected.
Clow.
For the things that are past, let us use our secrets.
Nee.
Now ile make a firme triall of your love,
As you love me, not a word more at this time,
Not a sillable, 'tis the seale of love, take heed.
Clow.
Hum, hum, hum, hum—
Hum's loath to depart.
Exit Clown.
Nee.
So, this pleasant trouble's gone, now Gardianesse,
What? your eyes easing your heart, the cause woman?
Gard.
The cause is false man, Madam, oh Lady,
I have been gub'd in a shining Carbuncle,
A very Glo-worme, that I thought had fire in't,
And 'tis as cold as Ice.
Neece.
And justly serv'd,
Would'st thou once think that such an erring Spring
Would dote upon thine Autumne?
Gard.
Oh, had you heard him
But protest.
Nee.
I would not have beleev'd him,
Thou might'st have perceiv'd how I mockt thy folly,
In wanton imitation with the Foole,
Go weepe the sin of thy credulity,
Not of thy losse, for it was never thine,
And it is gaine to misse it; wert thou so dull?
Nay yet thou'rt stupid and uncapable,
Why thou wert but the bait to fish with, not
The prey, the stale to catch another Bird with.
Gard.
Indeed he call'd me Bird.
Nee.
Yet thou perceiv'st not,
It is your Neece he loves, would'st thou be made
A stakling Jade? 'tis she, examine it,
Ile hurry all awry, and tread my path
Over unbeaten grounds, go levell to the mark,
Not by circuler bouts, rare things are pleasing,
And rare's but seldome in the simple sence,
But has her Emphasis with eminence
Exit.
Gard.
My Neece? she the rivall of my abuse?
My flesh and blood wrong me? ile Aunt her for't;
Enter Mirabell.
Oh opportunity, thou blessest me
Now Gentlewoman, are you parted so soone?
Where's your friend I pray? your Cuningame?
Mir.
What say you Aunt?
Gard.
Come, come, your Cuningame?
I am not blinde with age yet, nor deafe.
Mir.
Dumbe I am sure you are not, what ayld you Ant?
Are you not well?
Gard.
No, nor sick, nor mad, nor in my wits, nor sleeping,
nor walking, nor nothing, nor any thing; I know
not what I am, nor what I am not.
Mir.
Mercy cover us, what do you meane Aunt?
Gard.
I meane to be reveng'd.
Mir.
On whom?
Gard.
On thee, Baggage.
Mir.
Revenge should follow injury,
Which never reacht so far as thought in me
Towards you Aunt.
Gard.
Your cunning, minion,
Nor your Cuningame can either blinde me,
The gentle Begger loves you.
Mir.
Beseech you,
Let me stay your errour, I begin to heare,
And shake off my amazement; if you think
That ever any passage treating love
Hath been betwixt us yet commenc't, any
Silent eye-glance that might but sparkle fire,
The lip-salute, so much as strangers might
Take a farewell with, the commixed hands,
Nay, but the least thought of the least of these;
In troth you wrong your bosome, by that truth
(Which I thinke yet you durst be bayle for in me,
If it were offered ye) I am as free
As all this protestation.
Gard.
May I believe this?
Mir.
If ever you'l believe truth: why, I thought he
had spake love to you, and if his heart prompted his
tongue, sure I did heare so much.
Gard.
Oh falsest man, Ixions plague fell on me,
Never by woman (such a masculine cloud)
So airy and so subtle was embrac't.
Mir.
By no cause in me, by my life deere Aunt.
Gard.
I believe you, then help in my revenge,
And you shall do't, or loose my love for ever,
Ile have him quitted at his equall weapon,
Thou art young, follow him, bait his desires
With all the Engines of a womans wit,
Stretch modesty even to the highest pitch;
He cannot freeze at such a flaming beauty;
And when thou hast him by the amorous gills,
Thinke on my vengeance, choke up his desires,
Then let his banquettings be Tantalisme,
Let thy disdaine spurne the dissembler out;
Oh I should clime my stars, and sit above,
To see him burne to ashes in his love.
Mir.
This will be a strange taste, Aunt, and an
Unwilling labour, yet in your injunction
I am a servant to't.
Gard.
Thou'lt undertak't?
Mir.
Yes, let the successe commend it selfe hereafter.
Gard.
Effect it Girle, my substance is thy store,
Nothing but want of will makes woman poore.
Exeunt.
Enter Sir Gregory, and Clowne.
Sir Greg.
Why Pompey, thou art not starke mad, art thou?
Wilt thou not tell me how my Lady doe's?
Clow.
Your Lady?
Sir Greg.
Did she receive the thing that I sent her kindly, or no?
Clow.
The thing that you sent her, Knight, by the
thing that you sent, was for the things sake that was sent
to carry the thing that you sent, very kindly received, first,
there is your Indenture, now go seeke you a servant: secondly,
you are a Knight: thirdly and lastly, I am mine
owne man: and fourthly, fare you well.
Sir Greg.
Why Pompey? prethee let me speak with thee,
Ile lay my life some Haire has crost him.
Clow.
Knight, if you be a Knight, so keep you; as for
the Lady, who shall say that she is not a faire Lady, a
sweet Lady, an honest and a vertuous Lady, I will say he
is a base fellow, a blab of his tongue, and I will make him
eat these fingers ends.
Sir Greg.
Why here's no body saies so Pompey.
Clow.
Whatsoever things have past betweene the Lady
and the other party, whom I will not name at this time, I
say she is vertuous, and honest, and I will maintaine it, as
long as I can maintaine my selfe with bread and water.
Sir Greg.
Why I know no body thinks otherwise.
Clow.
Any man that doe's but thinke it in my hearing,
I will make him thinke on't while he has a thought in his
Bosome; shall we say that kindnesses from Ladies are
common? or that favours and protestations are things of
no moment betwixt parties and parties? I say still, whatsoever
has been betwixt the Lady and the party which I
will not name, that she is honest, and shall be honest, whatsoever
she doe's by day or by night, by light or by darknesse,
with cut and long tale.
Sir Greg.
Why I say she is honest.
Clow.
Is she honest? in what sense do you say she is honest,
Knight?
Sir Greg.
If I could not finde in my heart to throw my
Dagger at thy head, hilts and all, I'me an asse, and no
Gentleman.
Clow.
Throw your Dagger at me! do not Knight, I
give you faire warning, 'tis but cast away if you do, for
you shall have no other words of me, the Lady is an honest
Lady, whatsoever reports may go of sports and toyes,
and thoughts, and words, and deeds, betwixt her and
the party which I will not name; this I give you to understand,
That another man may have as good an eye, as
amorous a nose, as faire a stampt beard, and be as proper
a man as a Knight, (I name no parties) a Servingman may
be as good as a Sir, a Pompey as a Gregory, a Doodle as a Fop;
so Servingman Pompey Doodle may be respected as well
with Ladies (though I name no parties) as Sir Gregory Fop;
so farewell.
Exit.
Sir Greg.
If the fellow be not out of his wits, then will
I never have any more wit while I live; either the sight of
the Lady has gaster'd him, or else he's drunke, or else he
walks in his sleepe, or else he's a foole, or a knave, or both,
one of the three I'me sure 'tis; yet now I think on't, she
has not us'd me so kindly as her Uncle promis'd me she
should, but that's all one, he saies I shall have her, and I
dare take his word for the best Horse I have, and that's a
weightier thing then a Lady, I'me sure on't.
Exit.
Enter Lady Ruinous (as a man) Witty Pate, Sir Ruinous, Priscian, and Master Credulous, (binding and robing her, and in Scarfes) Credulous findes the bagge.
Lady Ruin.
Nay, I am your owne, 'tis in your pleasure
How you'l deale with me; yet I would intreat,
You will not make that which is bad enough,
Worse then it need be, by a second ill,
When it can render you no second profit;
If it be coyne you seeke, you have your prey,
All my store, I vow, (and it weighs a hundred)
My life, or any hurt you give my body,
Can inrich you no more.
Witty.
You may pursue.
L. Ruin.
As I am a Gentlewoman, I never will,
Onely wee'l binde you to quiet behaviour
Till you call out for Bayle, and on th'other
Side of the hedge leave you; but keep the peace
Till we be out of hearing, for by that
We shall be out of danger, if we come back,
We come with a mischiefe.
Lady.
You need not feare me.
Pris.
Come, wee'l bestow you then.
Exit Ruin. Pris. and Lady.
Wit.
Why law you Sir, is not this a swifter Revenue
then Sic probas ergo's & igitur's can bring in? why is not this
one of your Syllogismes in Barbara? Omne utile est honestum.
Cred.
Well Sir, a little more of this acquaintance,
Will make me know you fully I protest.
Wit.
You have (at first sight) made me conscious
Of such a deed my dreames ne're prompted, yet
I could almost have wisht rather ye'ad rob'd me
Of my Cloake, (for my Purse 'tis a Schollers)
Then to have made me a robber.
Cred.
I had rather have answered three difficult questions,
Then this one, as easie as yet it seems.
Tush, you shall never come to further answer for't;
Can you confesse your penurious Uncle,
In his full face of love, to be so strict
A Nigard to your Commons, that you are faine
To size your belly out with shoulder fees?
With Rumps and Kidneyes, and cues of single Beere,
And yet make Dayney to feed more daintily,
At this easier rate? fie Master Credulous,
I blush for you.
Cred.
This is a truth undeniable.
Wit.
Why go to then, I hope I know your Uncle,
How doe's he use his Sonne, nearer then you?
Cred.
Faith like his Jade, upon the bare Commons,
Turn'd out to pick his living as he can get it;
He would have been glad to have shar'd in such
A purchase, and thankt his good fortune too;
Enter Ruinous, and Priscian.
But mum no more—is all safe, Bullies?
Secure? the Gentleman thinks him most happy in his losse,
With his safe life and limbs, and redoubles
His first vow, as he is a Gentleman,
Never to pursue us.
Wit.
Well away then,
Disperse you with Master Credulous, who still
Shall beare the purchase, Priscian and I
Will take some other course: You know our meeting
At the Three Cups in Saint Gyles, with this proviso,
(For 'tis a Law with us) that nothing be open'd
Till all be present, the looser saies a hundred,
And it can weigh no lesse.
Ruin.
Come, Sir, wee'l be your guide.
Cred.
My honesty, which till now was never forfeited,
All shall be close till our meeting.
Exit Cred. and Ruin.
Wit.
Tush, I believ't,
And then all shall out; where's the theefe that's rob'd?
Enter Lady Ruinous.
L. Ruin.
Here Master Oldcraft, all followes now.
Wit.
'Twas neatly done, wench, now to turne that bag
Of counterfets to current pieces, & actum est.
L. Ruin.
You are the Chymist, wee'l blow the fire still,
If you can mingle the ingredients.
Wit.
I will not misse a cause, a quantity, a dram,
You know the place.
Pris.
I have told her that, Sir.
Wit.
Good, turne Ruinous to be a Constable, I'me sure
We want not beards of all sorts, from the
Worshipfull Magistrate to the under Watchman;
Because we must have no danger of life,
But a cleanly cheat, attach Credulous,
The cause is plaine, the theft found about him;
Then fall I in his owne Cozens shape
By meere accident, where finding him distrest,
I with some difficulty must fetch him off,
With promise that his Uncle shall shut up all
With double restitution: Master Constable, Ruinous
His mouth shall be stop't; you, Mistris rob theefe,
Shall have your share of what we can gull my father of;
Is't plaine enough?
L. Ruin.
As plaine a cozenage as can be, faith.
Wit.
Father, I come againe, and againe when this is
Past too, Father, one will beget another;
I'de be loath to leave your posterity barren,
You were best to come to composition Father,
Two hundred pieces yearly allow me yet,
It will be cheaper (Father) then my wit,
For I will cheate none but you, deare Father.
Exeunt.
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