University of Virginia Library

Actus tertij

Scæna prima

Enter Vndermyne at one doare, & att t'hother Mountayne, hastily, in a swett.—
Mount.
Nowe worthey Patron, of my choice endeavours,
See howe my bodie chafes, and weepes, all ore,
Dispightfull teares of swett, forc'd to strange toyle,
Awayteinge your occacōns, I haue trudg'd
Through eu'y Creeke, & turninge, worne my feete
Into a founder, like a Carryers Iade,
That travells all his age, all's fitted Sr.—puh, puh, &c'

Vnder
Oh Mountaine,
Although I'ue view'd the leape, & knowe it easie,
Haue tane my runne, wt h nimble confidence,
Vnto the Brincke, I fainte,.

Mount
And why Sr., what
Disheartnes you?

Vnder
Mountaine, if I proceed,
This age will hold me as a Prodegie,
And many vnborne to seu'all famylies,
When I alas am not, (as th'are not yett)
Shall suffer for't; mee though they neu' sawe
Their miseryes, soe lively must present,
That they will curse mee feelingly, and then
(As the poore Boyes haue their Correction, mixt
With repeticōn, of their faults) my soule
Shall feele a deadly lashe,

Mount:
Meere superstition,
Thus many a rich mans issue youle impoverishe,
Tis graunted, marke ye. benifitt you doe bestowe
In liewe of this, might they inioye those fortunes,
They lasily like Droanes would live vppon them,
Man is borne naked Sr, the very Embleme,
Of an hard Labourer, and Heaven comaunds,
Wee eate, but the iust hyre, of our owne swett,
You'le thus make many good, & ≼fect Christians,
Whose soules were ells in hazard,

Vnder:
Oh but Mountaine
Howe can I hope my Daughter (when shee's rais'd,
By theis foule meanes) should fairely sitt her fortune,
Whilst venemous, & iust reproaches light
All thicke, vppon her,

Mount
Her couragious spiritt,
Will beare all backe, wc h entringe, whence it came
Ore fild wt h spight, shall splitt their envious hearts,
When once shee's grafte into a noble flocke,
You little thinke, the priviledge shee has,
Hee that but snarles, [Sr] is lasht Sr., to the Kennell,
Tis thought some greate one Sr, doe vileder things
Their tytles shield all, once a Parliament
And bee thy will., that you may be protected,

Scæna Secunda

Enter Sly with a Letter
Vnder:
To mee, & not to her, why soe?—soe, soe,
Thus Wittworth is resolu'd then?

Sly
Sr. hee gau't mee,
His face imprinted, wt h as many frownes,
As one, most terrible, aspect, could figure,

Vnder:
Goe seale those baggs wt hin, th'are thowsand pounds,
(exit Sly.
T'hast cleard all doubts, & mee thou hast confirm'd,
Are thy infernall Officers, att hand?

Mount:
As eager Doggs i'the slipp, their eares prickt vpp,
The fearefull game in viewe, they but expect,
My, now, now,

Vnder:
Now, now—hold—whose shadow's that?

Sly retornes with a spruce Servingman in blacks,
A Letter
Sly.
His Blacks disguise him, yor late brothers man,
Nowe the sadd Widdow's servant, heere it rests,
If the smugg Ladd, has in the old mans tyme,
Entred his Ladies secretts, & done service,
Worth backe, & braines, why then she may be brought,
To stoope to his advancemt.,

Vnder:
You bringe Sr
Twelue Thowsand pounds, the porcōns of my Neeces,
ffor mee to husband, whilst for men they ripen,
To husband them, & those their porcōns,
Retorne it friend,

Mount:
[Ah], howe's that?

Ser:
My Master Sr.,
Whoe knewe well, both your worth, & tendernes,
Of your even conscience, straightly, gaue in charge,
It should be sent you, ere his Corps, toth' grave,

Vnder:
I thanke him heartily, what had my brother
Nought, but his cares, & troubles, to bequeath mee?
[His giddie frye? with their vnwildie burden?]
[Which if I shunne, the sadd disquiett backe]
[Vppon his soule I render, if accept?]
[Myne, wt h vast sorrowe, to the grave, I hasten,]
[Distraction on each hand attends,]

[Mount:]
[Heer's subtletie, as gray haier'd, as the owener,]
[Ingender'd, in a smyle, on at the Mothers breast,]
[And soe growen vpp to age, & strength, with this,]
[Noe negligent, Practicōner;]

[Vnder:]
[Mountaine, (hee poynts)]

[Ser:]
[My Conscience vrges, that you ought to do't,]

[Mount.]
[Lay home vnto your thoughts, howe those, yor. Neeces,]
[When they growe vpp to yeares, match, & haue yssue,]
[Will teach their Children, (prettie, little ones),]
[In their first prayers, to remember you,]
[As Authour of their beinge, then they harmeles,]
[And innocent sweete soules, must needs prevaile,]
[And you reape blessinge,]

[Vnder:]
Wher's this heart dullinge Trashe, this money?

Ser:
It's att your gate,

Vnder:
I will not haue it—taken backe againe,
Since you haue brought it, lett it enter friend,

Ser:
It shall dismount, its readie tould, & seald,

Vnder
Tak't on his word, dispatch him—this nicks nowe,

exeunt Ser & Sly
[Mount]
[But why Sr made you such a tedious Scæne on't?]

[Vnder.]
[Had I seis'd greedily it had betray'd,]
[Our Combinacōn] [As I could wish yt]—heer's a Cabbinett,
hee opens & showes ye Iewells
[Heer] Containes—behould—full Threescore thowsand pounds,
In pretious Iewells, thus I haue extracted,
The mayne of myne estate, lett this rest safe,
The residue, the Iudgement I'ue acknowledg'd.
Will reach compleate, ther's none, knowes this concealemt.,
What publiquely thou shalt attach, shall passe,
As all my fortune, fly, fly nimbly, nowe,
Lett slipp, the gam's on foote,

Mount:
As terrible & quicke as Lightnings Sr,

(exiturus
Vnder:
Once againe hould,
Bee sure thy Varletts laye their rudest hands,
On Modestina, stripp off all, till shame
Stepps to the rescue, & what that defends,
Lett spight (as seeminge hast) rende into raggs,
That could, & wretchednes, sworne enimies
To amorous fancies, may abate those flames,
Wherewith she seemes on fire,

Mount:
Enough, I haue my Lerry Sr,

exit
Vnder:
ffarewell,
Nowe must I shifte my lookes, & chainge my posture,
Crye, Oh is mee—in deede—a lack a day—
Harke harke I heare the bustle, what alreadie,
(noyse wt h.in
Oh nimble footed mischiefe,

Scæna tertia

Enter Sly in haste
Sly.
Sr. your howse
Is cram'd with Sergeants, they haue seis'd on all,
In execution, att the suite of Mountayne,

Vnder.
Oh Sly where am I fallne?

Sly.
Oh Sr how slyly,
Or rather poorely, you doe carrie this,
Come Sr dissemble not, I knowe yor. fortunes,
And t'others beggery, tis grosse, & open,

Vnder.
Thy guilt is absent heere, since the blowe's given,
I pray thee healpe to salue,, harke in thyne eare—

(exit
Sly.
Credulitie, opinion, & conceite,
Cast on a smooth tongue, & a hollowe hearte,
Ingender lively Scænes, of mirth, & wonder,

Scæna Quarta

Enter Modestina in her smock & a tattard pettycoate,

But heer's a spectacle, that qualifies,
What plague doth such a Villany deserue?
I pittie, but I dare not healpe, I serue,

exit
Mod:
Yee all foreseeinge powers, where you assert,
Your sacred providence, the better way,
Prevents approachinge ills, ere they arriue,
By sweete, & timely, warnings, I receiue
This scourge, with humble hearte, yett with a ioye
As high, as your Divinitie can raise,
The grace y'aue given mee, works strange effects.,
Enter Wittworth readinge the Letter
They looke strangely at each other,
My meditacōn's mar'd,—he ones mee not,
Th'art full of truth's ould man, I'me scorn'd indeed,

Witt:
I read this in her lookes—mee thinks her fall,
Out of selfe charitie, should make her hould,
Her wonted affabilitie,—tis deepe
Dislike, and if twill eu' of, nowe is
My time, to worke it.,

he makes towards her, she falls of
Mod:
Sr., I knowe you not,
Or you are alterd much, since last I sawe you,
Howe poorely Sr. you looke, alas good man,
I pittie your misfortunes,—y'are prevented;

Witt:
I come not, to throwe scorne vppon yor ruines,
But to rebuild, I lou'd yor virtue ever,
Wealth is a Shadowe;

Mod:
I, such as Limbers drawe,
Without it, ther's noe comelynes, nor feature,

Witt:
I finde you never lov'd mee,

Mod.
Oh, I see,
You'le take, an easie answer, whence proceeds
The cause of this your doubt?

Witt:
See there,

whilest she reades the Letter, Witt: gently casts his Cloake about her.
Mod:
Oh mee!
Wast not enough, vild man, that I fell with thee?
A patient Partner, in thy overthrowe?
The guilt beinge all thyne owne,? but thou must lay
Rude hands vppon mee grovelinge?—Thus I protest,—

Witt:
What meane you Ladie?

About to Kneele hee preuents
Mod:
Oh belieue mee Sr.,
This Lyne, that Letter dasht, is myne, the rest,
Trecherous addition.,

Witt:
[Ah] Ha,? what speakes it then?
The Delphian Oracles full poynted, had not
Check'd the vaine hopes, of such as were mislead,
With more amasement, then this, [ee] mee reproves,
Oh my affection's wonderous sencible,
Of this misprition, yett foule Trechery,
I loue thy strange effect, howe faire a glosse,
Thou (as a foyle) hast given, this cleare Iem̄e?

Mod:
Sr., D'ye not creditt mee?

Witt:
I doe belieue you,
See, howe it rudely thrusts, like some bould guest
Amongst the better sorte, whilst his Companions,
Are the base Rowte, beneath,—thus I remingle,
Our pure vnspotted loues, wc h shall stand cleare,
As longe as tyme, will have to doe with vs,

Mod:
Which thus, I doe confirme,

Witt:
And I irrevocable,
Kisse mutually
ffeed heartily my Soule, Theis Cates, are pretious,
And like a standinge Banquett, shall remaine,
Where thou maist dayly take, a sweete repast,
Bee never,, & yett euer satisfied,
And to barr this, what is there wantinge nowe?

Mod:
Why nowe, farewell forever,

Witt:
Howe? howe's this?
Why then you mocke mee still?

Mod:
I labour'd thus,
But to take of the scandall, was throwne on mee,
And to acquite, the Iniury, you thought,
I iustly stood accus'd of,

Witt:
I'me amaz'd,
Why d'ye not loue mee then?

Mod:
Better, by farr,
Then if my dayes were spent, in that one studie,
My last words could expresse!

Witt:
You speake sadd Riddles!

Mod:
Were myne estate Sr., nowe, as faire, as when,
It way'd equivolent wt h yours, T'were fitt,
What's nowe improper,—shall I enter Sr.?
A blemishe to yor Iudgement,? A sadd storie
To grieue your sollome friends,? the first fowle blurr,
Amidst your faire writt familye? A Burthen
Vnto your fortunes?

Witt:
Oh most improper,
Call you them fortunes, that thus ruine mee,
Ile r«ac»e my howses, And erecte a Wall
Of ample Circuite, that noe man, may tread
Vppon that damned soyle, And soe vnpeopl'd,
Share it my Curse to boote; wantinge due tillage,
A well-growne-one-intire-foule-noysome weed,
Lett it become, the rankenes of'it ingender,
A Bedd of Serpaints, And lett them devoure,
Modestina lay's downe his Cloake & warily exit
What gaue 'em beinge, make it, a barren flatt,
That they at ease may slide, disporteinge them,
To see the fall of what, flue over head,
Blasted with that most deadly steeme, their breathes
Conioyne togeather, to make venemous,
And lett them haue noe other foode, Till I
(Then sleighted too) Come (as a Charitie)
To begge a buriall, in theire barbed Iawes,
Loe thus divinest—ha—how's this! cast off,
[Without a civil farewell?—oh! I haue it,]
[Th'art full of subtle innocence, faire Virgine,]
[Thou hast discern'd in mee some secrett blemishe,]
[Or in my cariage, person, or my nature,]
[Which hath produc'd mee loathsome, I confesse]
[I'ue lookt into my selfe wt h partiall eyes;-]
[Yet thy pretences are iniurious, (enter Sly.)]

[I am the wretch, thou blest, that canst [refuse] [escape] mee,]

[Keepinge thy glory full, and faire,—for mee]
[[enter Sly]]
[There leades an open way, Ile waste, pyne, dye,]
[And reape sweete solace, in the Agonie]
[(exit]
[(Sly]
[How's that? alas howe hast thou grieu'd thy friend]
[Sweete Modestina,? ever since hee sawe]
[Thine eyes, faire eyes, foule chance, has beene noe more]
[His owne, but as the various change, of loue,]

[Scæna Quinta]

[Enter Doctor Makewell,]
[Doctor]
[Whoe ist you looke Sr.?]

[Witt:]
[Stand by furd Vrinall—noe, noe, in vaine]
[I seeke her heere beneath, shee is ascended,]
[Ioue I defie thee, t'art the Pagans God,]
[All rape, and Incest, thou hast rifled hence,]
[This faire pure Virgine, & hast quickly drawne]
[Thy rich, skie colour'd, Curtaines, & hast plac'd]
[Phebus, thy Pympe, to dasle all mens eyes]
[That prye into thy loosenes;]

[Doctor.]
[Oh my ffriend!]

[Witt:]
[Vse not dread Ioue constraint, court her, & spare not,]
[Thou canst not, wt h a glorious fadeinge Yellowe,]
[Staine her im̄aculate whitenes, though thou raigne]
[Downe showers of gold, vntill the Magazine]
[Of thy vast Treasure, be drawne drye, appeare]
[In all thy borrowed shapes, vse every sleight,]
[Such as gayn'd Semele, and faire Europa,]
[Her chastitie, & subtle Innocence,]
[ffirme in its owne defence, scapes all thy prancks,]

[Doctor]
[Theis freights, & chaunges, to his passionate hearte,]
[Bringe on distraction, as an ague fitt,]

[Witt:]
[Ha! didst not heare a skreeke,? not such a one,]
[As a laborious willingnes, delivers,]
[Through vehement Covett, as a tarte Exordium,]
[Vnto a pleasinge Theame, but such as som̄on'd]
[A present Rescue, see, the Clowds doe swell,]
[Bladder'd, wt h Ioues smart breath, all chafe'd wt h struglinge,]

[Doctor]
[I must not crosse still, still, she houlds him tack Sr,]

[Witt:]
[Hand of foule Ravisher, Ile tread the Ocean,]
[Awayteinge the discent of the Sunns Charyott,]
[And like another Phaeton will mount,]
[Thy Mansion ryotous Ioue, & to thy beard,]
[Court thyne enraged Iuno, [weel] weele combine,]
[And breed a faction, 'mongst the gods thy Peeres,]
[And thrust thee from thy Throane, establishe there,]
[That excellent, chaste Goddesse, Modestina,]
[As regent Queene, whoe by a stricter awe,]
[And more divine example governe shall,]
[The People heere beneath, and soone reduce,]
[The state of things, vnto its virgine purenes,]
[As in those golden dayes, when thou beganst,]
[Thy most luxvrious raigne;—by Precedent]
[ffrom Ioue, men learnt to sinne, & by continuance,]
[Grewe cuninge in all vice.,]

[Doctor]
[His fitt abates,.]

[Witt:]
[Ther's yett a better way,, Ile waste, pyne, dye,]
[And reape sweete sollace, in the Agonie;]

exit.
[Doctor]
[His passion's turn'd, and drives, a dangerous waye,]
[Sweete Modestina, ever since hee sawe,]
[Thine eyes (faire eyes) foule chaunce, has been noe more,]
[His owne, but as the various change of loue]
[Produces him, twice 'hath fell melancholy,]
[Tryvmph'd in this surprise of all his sences,]
[Twice has hee thought him dead, as some belieue,]
[Th'are Kings, some beares, a Vrinall, all nose,]
[I'ue cur'd him twice, but feare a third relapse,]

[Scæna Sexta]
[Enter Sly.]
Sly.
[Oh quickly healpe Sr, braue Sr. Wittworth's falne]
[Dead, att our gate, where many people thronge]
[And sucke vpp all the ayre, debarringe him,]
[Breath to reviue againe,.]

Doctor
[Oh wretched man!]
[exit at one doare & at thother] enter six Creditors servants
Scæna Quinta
Produces him—oh mee I shalbee troubl'd,

[Sly]
[See, see, see, see a whole armye of Creditors,]

1.
ffriend wher's yor. mr., I am come for money,
Mr. Taylor has heere sent his Bill,

2.
This mr. Strange,

3
This from mr Shorter, and mr. Oweinge,

4.
This from mr. Sharpe,

5
This from mr. Bateman,.

6.
This from mr. Payne, and mr. Thorowgood,
Partners att the Salutacōn,

Sly.
Very good; parteners, in woe, I salute you all,
Tis Strange, you are soe Sharpe sett,
Taylors bills, must be cutt Shorter,
I knowe it's all Oweinge,
But to putt you out of the Payne,
Ther's noe man shalbe paid, but mr. Bateman,

1.
This is a very riddle,

2.
Shrewdely putt,

4.
Yett easily resolu'd,

1
Wee are all geir'd,

4
And Cosoned,

1.
Sirah there shalbe a speedie course taken,
Mountaine shall not carrye it thus,

exeunt manet Sly
Sly.
Nowe it workes—and see

Scæna [Septima] Sexta

Enter Vnder: & Mount.
Sly
Theis, bee the subtle Engineir's that walke,
In tenebris, and haue blowne vpp all such
As came within their Traine, [thou Tyraunt Neede]
[I must or starve, or basely serue, to feede,]
[exit Sly]

[Mount:]
[Theis are strange accidents as ere befell]
[Is Wittworth madd sa'yee, soe starke staringe madd]
[As you reporte him, and your Orphant lost]

[Vnder:]
[A tyrannous and sullen [and victorious] melancholy]
[Trivmph's in the surprise of all his sences]

[Mount.]
[Is Wittworth madd sa'ye? and your Orphant lost?]

[Vnder:]
She's fledd, soe are his braines, my subtle knave,
I ken, not care, not whether,

Mount:
Yo'are iocand Sr,

Vnd:
Troth Mountayne tis by fitts,
When I collect my selfe, I'me often troubled,
With the wynde Colleck in my Conscience,
It gripes mee shrewdly,

[OMITTED]Monut:
A full Purse you knowe,
[OMITTED] Makes a light heart, thinke but on that y'are eas'd,

Vnder:
Well said I vowe—who's heere my Servitour,
Nowe marke thy Cue,

(Enter the servingman in blacks
Serv:
I am not seene, I will obserue a little,

Vnder:
Oh mercye, mercye, mercye, gentle Sr.,
Pittie the Orphants, and the ffatherles,

Mount.
Audatious Bankerupt, shall I not regard,?
The Children of my loynes,? and familye,?
Before the wretched bratts, that thou hast made soe,?
Lett 'em begg younge, soe they'le make apt their sinewes,
T'allowe their Limbes, into a wreath'd Convultion,
Tell their misfortunes with a large addition
When to my doare they come, if they do't [not] handsome,
Ile give them double doale,

exit
Vnder:
What are you there?
I'me bound to curse you, eu'lastingly,
By your meanes all my fortunes are distroy'd,
Had not you brought before the greedie eye,
Of my insatiate Creditour, a som̄e
Which waide, at Levell, wt h his desperate debt,
I'ad putt him off, wt h words, and promises,
As longe time I had done, and not beene ruin'd,

Serv:
Is this then all the pittie I shall gett?

Vnder:
Is this then all the pittie I shall gett?

Scæna [Octaua] Septima

Enter Brainsicks ffewtricks,, Clutch & Shackle,
Brain:
Come alonge, come alonge, come, come,
Wilt please you haue any Musicke Sr, to dr[r]ive away yor
Melancholy howers, Ile singe you, a very merry songe Sr.,
Sings

Vnder:
Never till nowe was this noyse welcome to mee,
T'will fright off all my Creditors,

Brain:
What art thou?

Serv:
A Miserable wretched ffellowe Sr.,
Whoe not an hower agoe, laide heere in trust,
A mightie sum̄e, since when, the Merchants blowne,
Ruin'd, and quite vndone,

Brain
Th'art Cosen'd,

ffew:
Nay fubd, and scrub'd, marke mee thou man of woe,
When an Impostume is growne ripe, & full,
If the foule stomacke, which did breed that filth,
Hath powerfull strength, to breake, & void it, then
The sickly wretch growes Cranke, better dispos'd,
H'inioyes a perfect health, soe these impostures,
Such as old Vndermyne, who crack'd for thowsands,
When through the spungie, and attractiue foulenes,
Of their vast Consciences, th'aue gather'd drosse,
If with a cleane Conveyance they can breake,
They are thought wise, & wealthy, are beheal'd
With admiracōn, to their Glorye; soe
After the foggie darkenes, of foule night,
The day breakes cleare, & the resplendent Sunne,
That had noe light, but what it kept conceal'd,
Nowe leands it liberally,

Brain:
Gramercye ffewtricks!
Your Citizens seldome breake, but when th'are rich,
They are not ripe till then;

Serv:
Ist possible?

ffew:
The Arabian Phœnix, annually expires,
But from her Ruines, and her Ashes, shee
Rises againe, all glorious, hee that sinks,
A Customary way, each longe Vacation,
And setts vpp in the Tearme, is a rare fellowe,,

Serv:
It seemes Sr. Custome then and vsualtie,
Acquites the shame,

Brain:
Shame? th'art a sillye ffellowe, art thou sure
Ther's any such thinge wt hin the walls,? I knewe
And yett a lives, a Merchaunt, whoe did breake,
ffor full as many Thowsand pounds, as are
Dayes in the yeare, laye Leiger in the Goale,
Howe longe?

Clutch:
Some Thirtie yeares, & odd, & ruin'd,
As many ffamylies, with whose estates,
Hee purchas'd honour, and a large Revenewe,
To all his Children severally,

Ser:
Oh strange!

Brain:
Howe should the Course of the world runne round else,
Such Cittizeins Children, turne gentl,, the estate beinge ill gott
By the ffather, is wastfully spent by ye sonne, & in the next discent,
His Children become bound againe, & this is
Singe

Serv:
Oh but the Merchant that ow'd the Thowsands,
What Composicōn Sr., was offerd him?

Clutch.
Att first they askt a noble in the Pound,

ffew:
But hee brought that noble to nyne pence.,

Clutch.
A sillie maide come of a good discent,
Whose howse hee ruin'd, lately did desire,
Compassion, & his Charitie, hee drawes
With solemne seremony his purse, bestowes—
A Phillipp & Mary six pence.,

Brain:
And withall, bidd her
Take honest Courses, Oh it was, a handsome Wench,
But though the Coyne did couple (as I vrg'd too)
I could doe noe good on her, hee had putt her
In such a scurvie humour; wt h his good counsaile

Serv:
Oh mercifull Heaven!

ffew
Such youthes as theis tumble on the earth, like a Whale in the Sea,
With whole Showles in his belly,, & when they dye, will lye
Buried, wt h a hundred, honest Cittizens, within them.,

Clutch:
Goe friend, ioyne wt h ye. rest of the Creditor s, in ye. Comission of bankerupt,

Serv:
Ile followe yor advise, thankes courteous gentleman,

exit
Brain:
Clutch, I shall quickly be discharg'd, I haue
Dispatch'd twentie Creditor s to day,

Clutch·
I sawe noe money paid Sr.?

Brain:
Why noe Clutch, theyl'e trust noe longer, & then I hope they are
All paid,? thou knowest, I haue noe other way to cleare my debts,

Scæna [nona] octaua

Enter Miniona & maide., Min: comes wt h. state towards Brain:, They salute wt h. seremony, & ffewt: Kisses the Maide,
ffew:
Vppon the Levell I accost you Ducklinge,

Maide.
Thankes prettie Parrakeete,

Minio:
Tis not your person, which is tollerable,
Your singinge, & your other partes, that take,
The fortunes you were borne to, wc h are faire,
Your present beinge, wc h some pittie moves,
That makes mee Sr. thus kinde,

Brain:
What the Diu'll ist then?

Minio:
Soe full of Method, & soe bountifull,
You are in raylinge, at [old Vndermyne], base Cittizens
[And that base Mountaine, wc h haue ruin'd mee,]
Soe fairely, freely, smartly, & soe patt,
Your Ierks fall on them, that you ravish mee,

Brain:
I had rather haue your consent Ladie,

Minio:
Att distance Sr, I pray thee rayle a little,
And lett ould Vndermyne & that rogue Mountaine,
And lettthe Citty Bee, thy [most] spatious Theame—say—

Brain:
Lett mee see,
Th'are formall, as the waynscott Imag'ry,
But want the better parte, the noble spiritt,

Minio:
Call you this raylinge?

Brain:
The[ir] fleshe of a Cittizen is as rancke, & as vnwholesome,
As a tame Coney, that feeds on playsters,

Minio.
Soe, soe,

ffew:
They are as eager, at the sporte you wott of,
As a younge Bullocke, wt h a gamesome Heifer,
All as vnable, [as] and as fairely headed

Minio:
Better and better, tis a very good Boy,

Brain:
They scarcely gett the Children that they ffather,

Minio:
I like that best, my nature soe excells,
I hope the loathsome Vndermyne, nere gott mee,

Brain:
Was yor Mother faire?

Minio:
As I my selfe, and of a lustie Kynn?

Brain:
And a Cittizens wife? [i]t'is a cleare Case.,
[Ile humour her, to whatsoere shee saies,]
[Although it carrie neither truth, nor sence,]
[To growe in favour with her,]

Minio:
[Yett mee thinks] Ther's one thinge makes mee doubt [still it] still; tis a tenent [they create]
That they, whoe mingle wt h anothers wife,
Thinke alwaies on the Cockoule, th'are a makeinge.,
ffor feare hee comes, that their thus troubled thought,
Intends not, as it should, the thinge they doe,
[weake]
Soe nature comes imperfect, heer's the Cause,
Some of our Cittie ffrye, haue such weake braines,
But I am too wise, I thinke,

Brain:
You are indeed, what come the while, quoth you?
Were there noe Sturbridge, nor noe Bristall faires,
Ere you were borne,? did not your ffather vse,
Those in his first begin[gs]ings.?

Minio:
That hee did,

Brain:
Rest confident, yo'are right,

Minio:
I'me highly pleas'd.,

Brain:
Pray walke, or I growe dull.,
Sacke, wt h your faire applause, will raise mee high,
As our fam'd Poetts, to eternitie;

exeunt

Scæna [Decima] Nona

Enter Dr. Makewell, & Modestina in a plaine Wastcoate,
Doctor:
Where [you] haue you beene faire Virgine? that my search
Which hath beene full of subtle dilligence?
Could not recover you?, till nowe y'are come.
A voluntary, and sadd visitant,.
To looke vppon the ruines of your Servant,?

Mod:
I'ue mingled with the walkinge rowte, that wander
A sadd vnmynded people, such as are
Lead vpp, & downe, they knowe not, care not, whether,
By ffate; not cruell, rather courteous,
To bringe them to a knowledge of themselues,
And others warne, but fruiteles is the yssue,
I hid mee not, misshapinge povertie,
Kept mee vnknowne,

Doctor.
Whoe superficially,
ffor secundary Causes loues, those gone,
Th'affection nimbly followes, but Sr. Wittworth
Propoundinge your pure virtue, as his obiect,
Beheald you, as incapable of change;
Soe is a pretious Iem of equall glory
Vnto a knoweinge man, though the base foyle
(Which prompts the ignorant eye) bee tane awaye;

Mod:
Of this I had faire tryall.,

Doctor:
Then your scorne,
Or terme it gently, your vngentlenes,
Your absence, and refusall, haue soe wrought,
Vppon his passionate thoughts,, yt. he remaines,
A desperate man, or rather void of sence,
Hee's his owne livinge Monument,

Mod:
Good Sr.
Improperly you Consture mee vnkinde,
My love in equall ballance plac'd with his,
A faire proportion held, but had wee mingled,
The knowledge of mine owne vnworthynesse,
Had cau[']s'd a sadnes, wc h in mee, had wrought
Like desperate effects, soe had I beene
A sad continuinge discontent, noe comforte,
As fondly you imagine, but mee thinkes
This Melancholy, which distempers him,
Beinge but a fleame, might easily be purg'd,
And healthfull strength take place,

Doctor.
Alas: his braine
The seate of reason, misaffected, vents
A false, Corrupt, and violent conceite,
Hee knowes not that hee lives, his feeble sence
Remayninge (that scarce shewes it) is misled,
And soe imperiously, that hee belieues,
Hee dyed longe since, & when wee come about him,
To offer cure, or comforte, hee Cryes out
Can dead men eate? why d'ye torment mee thus?
Is there noe quiett in the graue, yee furyes?

Mod:
Haue you a President for this disease?

[Doctor.]
[Oh many, some haue had the like conceite]
[Some haue belieu'd they were huge Gyants growne]
[Some Beares, some Kings, a Vrinall all nose]

[Mod:]
[Is ye. disease incurable?]

[Doctor.]
[O Many;]

[Mod:]
[Is it cureable?]

Doctor.
It is not
The humour like a whirlewinde wantinge vent,
Choakes vpp the braine, & when the wilfull patient,
Refuseth meanes, to voyde it through the pores,
By force wee bore the suture of the braine,
With flaminge Irons leandinge open vent
Vnto those crucifyinge fumes;

Mod:
Oh mee.,
I fainte in his behalfe.,

Docter.
Reserue yor. spiritts,
It rests in you to cure an easier waye,
Harke in your eare,—

Mod:
I'me equally distracted,

Doctor.
Remember for whose sake,

Mod:
I am resolu'd!

Doctor.
Goe shifte you streight, cleane lynnen is prpar'd,
exit Mod:
Nowe if it takes, I shall togeather cure,
My ffriends disease, & this Girles peevishnes,
If the least seeds. of womanly compassion,
Remaine within her; o yee blessed Starrs
Ioyne your propitious influence wt h my druggs;

exit.

Scæna [vn]decima, et vltima,

Enter Brainsick, Miniona, Maide ffew: Clutch & Shackle,
Minio:
Sirrah, this ≼petuall drinkeinge, fills thy bodie
ffull of humors, thou hadst neede purge often,

Brain:
Some once a moneth, and whats that, they yt. liue orderly, vse a good dyett,
Which is alwaies to take phisicke, marry heerein I keepe rule, I drinke
Dayly, a Iulipp of sacke, your constant drunckard is a most moist
Bedfellowe, and like yor Concerue in sirropp, a very sweete Companion,

Enter Hodge with buskins of hay,—a Letter,
Hodge.
O my younge Measter, Mister Zam, Cha skoust
Vpp, & downe, Ater ye, taley, ther's Parls
Newes Vor yee,

Brain:
To Samuell Brainsicke Esquier,

read«s»
Hodge.
Tis a marls, vinger could day, nere open an man, Chill e'ne tell yee all,
Yer Vathers as dead; as a doare nayle;

he claps his hands to Ketch heate Brain: strikes him
Brain:
Hould thy hands, Ile saue thee a labour;

Minio:
I pray thee [Captaine] [sirra], Can hee bringe thee better newes; and
wilt thou beate him for it?

Brain:
Therefore I beate him, shall a Rogue be sent, wt h soe good, soe merry newes,
soe light of carriage too? & be noe more nimble,? Cry hee's a could—
Notwt hstandinge hee has a Cartloade of hay about him, wc h hee brings
vpp wt h him, to Smythfeild, to beare charges,, Ile pay you Sirrah,

hee offers t'other shifts
Hodge.
Oh don't [not] vese mee, Cham grevis aquert with beateinge, dou'[b]'t mell
O mee noe more; thy Golls don't vall., zoo zate, that they don't,

Brain:
I would haue had ye: Rogue come breathles with hast, & haue made signes only thus—
And soe haue layne downe, in a sound. for halfe an hower, to haue made ye more feeling exprecōn;

Minio.
Why sure I thinke hee speakes by signes nowe, for I vnderstand not a word he saies.,

Brain:
Sr.
Your ffathers dead, you may read heere, the effect of his sadd, merry will, I doe
(reads
bequeath vnto my Sonne Samuell—Huph &c'.

Minio:
ffriend, What more Children hadd your Masters ffather?

Hodge.
An other Boye, & twaye Girles!

Minio:
Of what age are they??

Hodge.
The Boy's zuch another tall zlim striplinge as hee,
And the Girles too, bee both att mons estate;

Minio:
Where were you borne ffriend?

Hodge
Where ich war a bore awoos, there be silkein gentlevoke too,
But their heads bent a made vpp zoo, like the Parsons tyth
Haycock with a sprigge in an, they doe weare clouse vorred
Clothes, & Partletts, to hide bare, and they haue a greate many
Poats, Theire Armes awos, bent azweld zoo, and all a—
zlaish'd to lett out the vilt, and the corruption, nor their hippes—
bent a spread zoo, till they bee marryed awoos, as they be heere.,

Minio:
I want an Interpreter,

Brain:
Come Ladie for all [yo] our Iestinge, heer's heavie newes,
Lett's goe, and purge melancholy;
Whoe would bee Iocound in dispite of sorrowe,
[Dispatch much busines, ere it be begunn,
Though he has all diseases, feele noe paine,
Dispatch much busines, ere it be begunne,
Lett him keepe drunke, and they are easie done;

Exeunt