University of Virginia Library

Actvs IIII.

Scena I.

Stathrift. Ms Seathrift. Ms Holland. Ms Scruple.
Seath.
I did commit her to your charge that you
Might breed her, Ms Scruple, and doe require
Her at your hand. Here be fine tricks, indeed;
My daughter Susan to be stolne a week,
And you conceale it; you were of the plot,
I doe suspect you.

Ms Scru.
Sir, will you but heare
Me meekly?

Seath.
No, J'le never trust againe
A woman with white eyes, that can take notes,
And write a Comment on the Catechisme.
All your devotion's false; ist possible
She could be gone without your knowledge?

Ms Scru.
Will you
Attend me, Ms Seathrift? If my husband
To weane her from love courses, did not take
More paines with her then with his Tuesday Lectures,
And if J did not every day expound
Some good things to her gainst the sinne oth' flesh,
For feare of such temptations, to which fraile girles
Are very subject, let me never more
Be thought fit to instruct young Gentlewomen,
Or deale in Tent-stitch. Who ere twas that seduced her,
She took my daughter Emlins gowne and ruffe,
And left her owne clothes: and my Schollers say
She often would write Letters.

Seath.
Why tis right
Some silenc't Minister has got her: that J
Should breed my daughter in a Conventicle!

Ms Seath.
Pray husband be appeas'd.

Seat.
You are a foole.

Ms Seath.
You heare her Ms could not help it.

Seath.
Nor
Your sonne help being a fish.

Ms Holl.
Why, Sir, was he
The first that was abus'd by Captaines?

Seath.
Goe
You talke like prating Gossips.

Ms Holl.
Gossips? slight
What Gossips, Sir?

Ms Seath.
What Gossips are we? speak.

Seath.
J'le tell you since youd know: my wife and you,
Shrill Ms Holland, have two tongues, that when
Th'are in conjunction, are busier, and make
More noise then country faires, and utter more tales
Then blind-folkes, Mid-wives, Nurses. Then no show
Though't be a Jugler scapes you. You did follow
The Elephant so long, and King of Sweden,
That people at last came in to see you. Then
My sonne could not be made a Fish, but who
Should I finde there much taken with the sight
But you two? I may now build Hospitals,
Or give my mony to Plantations.
Exit Seath.

Ms Seath.
Lets follow him, come Ms Scruple.

Ms Holl.
Just
As your Sue left her Schoole-mistresse, my Pen
Left me.

Ms Scru.
They'l come againe J warrant you.

Exeunt.

Scena II.

Plotwell. Aurelia.
Plotw.
Sister tis so projected, therefore make
No more demurres, the life of both our fortunes
Lies in your carriage of things well; think therefore
Whither you will restore me, and advance
Your own affaires, or else within this week
Fly this your lodging, like uncustomd sinners,
And have your Coach-horses transformd to Rent,
Have your apparell sold for properties,
And you returne to Cut-work. By this hand
If you refuse all this must happen.

Aur.
Well, Sir,
Necessitie which hath no Law, for once
Shall make me oth' conspiracy, and since
We are left wholy to our wits, Let's show
The power and vertue of 'em; if your Baneswright
Can but perswade my Uncle, I will fit
Him with a Bride.

Plotw.
The Scene is laid already;
I have transformd an English Poet into
A fine French Teacher, who shall joyne your hands
With a most learned legend out of Rablais.

Aur.
But for my true groom who you say comes hither
For a disguised Knight, I shall think I wed
His Fathers Counting-house, and goe to bed
To so much Bullion of a man Faith I've
No minde to him, brother, he hath not wit enough
To make't a lawfull marriage.

Plot.
Y' are deceivd,
I'le undertake by one weekes Tutoring,
And carrying him to Plaies and Ordinaries,
Engaging him in a quarrell or two, and making
Some Captaine beat him, to render him a most
Accomplisht Gallant. Or say he be borne, sister,
Under the City planet, pray what wise Lady
Desires to match a wise Knight? you'd marry some
Philosopher now, that should every night
Lye with you out of Aristotle, and loose
Your maiden-head by Demonstration.
Or some great statesman, before whom you must sit
As silent and reservd as if your looks
Had plots on forreine Princes, and must visit
And dresse your selfe by Tacitus. What he wants
In Naturals, his fortunes will make up
In Honours, Pen; when hee's once made a Lord,
Who'l be so sawey as to think he can
Be impotent in wisdome? She that marries
A foole, is an Hermaphrodite, the Man
And wife too, sister. Besides tis now too late,
He'l be here presently, and comes prepar'd
For Hymen. I took up a footman for him,
And left him under three tyremens hands, besides
Two Barbers.

Aur.
Well, Sir, I must then accept him
With all his imperfections, I have
Procur'd a Sir Iohn yonder.

Plotw.
Who ist?

Aur.
One
That preaches the next parish once a week
Enter a Footman
A sleep for thirty pounds a yeare.

Foot.
Here is
A Knight desires your Ladiship will give
Him audience.

Aur.
Tis no Knight Embassadour?

Foot.
He rather lookes like a Knight oth' Sun.

Pl.
Tis He.

Aur.
Let him come in.

Plot.
If you be coy now, Pen,
Ex. Foot.
You spoile all.

Aur.
Well, Sir, I'le be affable.

Scena III.

To them Timothy fantastically drest, and a Footman.
Plotw.
Here he comes.

Tim.
Sirrah, wait me in the Hall,
And let your feet stink there; your ayre's not fit,
To be endured by Ladies.

Plotw.
What quarrell with
Your Footman, Sir?

Tim.
Hang him, he casts a sent
That drownes my perfumes, and is strong enough
To cure the Mother or Palsie. Doe I act
A Knight well?

Plotw.
This imperiousnesse becomes you
Like a Knight newly dubd, Sir.

Tim.
What saies the Lady?

Plotw.
Speak lower, J've prepar'd her, show your selfe
A Courtier now she's yours.

Tim.
If that be all
I'le Court her as if some Courtier had begot me
Ith' Gallery at a Masque.

Plotw.
Madam, this Gentleman
Desires to kisse your hands.

Tim.
And lips too Lady.

Aur.
Sir, you much honour both.

Tim.
I, I know that,
Else Ide not kisse you. Yesterday I was
In company with Ladies and they all
Long'd to be toucht by me.

Aur.
You cannot cure
The Evill, Sir, nor have your lips the vertue
To restore ruines, or make old Ladies young?

Tim.
Faith all the vertue that they have, is that
My lips are knighted. J am borne, sweet Lady,
To a poore fortune that will keep my selfe,
And Foot-man, as you see, to beare my sword
In Cuerpo after me I can at Court,
If J would show my gilt ith' Presence, look
After the rate of some five thousands
Yearely in old rents, and were my Father once
Well wrapt in seare-cloth, I could fine for Sheriffe.

Plotw.
Heart you spoile all.

Tim.
Why?

Plot.
She verily believd
Y'had nere a father.

Aur.
Lives your father, then Sir?
That Gentleman told me he was dead.

Tim.
Tis true,
I had forgot my selfe, he was drownd, Lady,
This morning, as he went to take possession
Of a summer house and land in the Canaries.

Plotw.
Now y'have recoverd all.

Tim.
D'you think I have
Not wit enough to lye?

Plotw.
Break your minde to her,
She does expect it.

Tim.
But Lady this is not
The businesse which J came for.

Aur.
I'me at leisure
To heare your businesse, Sir.

Plotw.
Mark that.

Tim.
Indeed,
Sweet Lady, I've a motion which was once
Or twice this morning in my mouth, and then
Slipt back againe for feare.

Aur.
Cowards nere won
Ladies, or Forts, Sir.

Tim.
Say then I should feele
Some motions, Lady, of affection; might
A man repaire Pauls with your heart, or put it
Into a Tinder-box?

Aur.
How meane you, Sir?

Tim.
Why is your heart a stone, or flint?

Aur.
Be plain, Sir,
I understand you not.

Tim.
Not understand me?
Y' are the first Lady that ere put a man
To speak plaine English; some would understand
Riddles, and signes; say J should love you, Lady?

Aur.
There should be no love lost, Sir.

Tim.
Say you so?
Then by this aire my teeth eene water at you;
I long to have some Off-spring by you; we
Shall have an excellent breed of wits; J meane
My youngest sonne shall be a Poet; and
My Daughters, like their Mother, every one
A wench oth' game. And for my eldest sonne,
He shall be like me, and inherit. Therefore
Lets not deferre our joyes, but goe to bed
And multiply.

Aur.
Soft, Sir, the Priest must first
Discharge his office. I doe not mean to marry
Enter Dorcas out of her Puritan dresse
Like Ladies in New England, where they couple
With no more ceremony then birds choose their Mate
Upon St Ualentines day.

Dor.
Madam the Preacher
Is sent for to a Churching, and doth aske
If you be ready, he shall loose, he saies,
His Chrysome else.

Aur.
O miracle! out of
your litle Ruffe, Dorcas, and in the fashion?
Dost thou hope to be saved?

Dor.
Pray Madam doe not
Abuse me; J will tell you more anon.

Plotw.
Tell him shees comming.

Aur.
Sir, please you partake
Of a slight banquet?

Pl.
Just as you are sate
Exit Dorcas.
I'le steale the Priest in.

Tim.
Doe.

Pl.
When you are joind,
Be sure you doe not oversee, but straight
Retire to bed, she'l follow.

Tim.
Tis not three
A clock ith' afternoone.

Plotw.
Tis but drawing
Your Curtaines and you doe create your night.
All times to Lovers and New married folkes
May be made dark.

Tim.
J will then. By this Roome
She's a rare Lady. J doe almost wish
I could change sexe, and that she might beget
Children on me.

Plotw.
Nay will you enter?

Tim.
Ladie,
Pray will you show the way.

Plotw.
Most Citie like,
'Slid take her by the arme, and lead her in.

Tim.
Your arme sweet Lady.

Exeunt.

Scena IV.

Bright. Newcut.
Br.
But are you sure th'are they?

New.
I'le not believe
My treacherous eies againe, but trust some dog
To guid me, if J did not see his Uncle
Comming this way, and Baneswright with him.

Br.
Who,
The fellow that brings Love to banes, and banes
To bare thighes 'bout the towne?

New.
The very same, Sir;
The Citie Cupid that shoots arrowes betwixt
Partie and partie. All the difference is,
He has his eyes, but they he brings together
Sometimes doe not see one another till
Till they meet ith' Church.

Br.
What say you now if Ware-house
Should in displeasure marry?

New.
Tis so, this fellow
In's company confirmes me. Tis the very businesse
Why Plotwell has sent for us.

Br.
Here they come.
Prithee lets stand and overheare 'em.

New.
Stand close then.

Scena. V.

Enter Ware-house. Baneswright.
Ware-h.
Madam Aurelia is her name?

Ban.
Her father
Was, Sir, an Irish Baron, that undid
Himselfe by house-keeping.

War.
As for her birth
I could wish it were meaner. As many Knights
And Justices of peace as have been of
The Family are reckoned into th'portion;
She'l still be naming of her Ancestors,
Aske Jointure by the Heralds booke, and I
That have no Coat, nor can show azure Lions,
In Fields of Argent, shall be scornd; she'l think
Her Honour wrongd to match a man that hath
No Scutcheons but them of his Company,
Which once a yeare doe serve to trim a Lighter
To Westminster and back againe.

Ban.
You are
Mistaken, Sir. This Lady as she is
Descended of a great house, so she hath
No Dowrie but her Armes. She can bring only
Some Libbards heads, or strange beasts, which you knowe
Being but Beasts, let them derive themselves
From Monsters in the Globe, and lineally
Proceed from Hercules labours, they will never
Advance her to a husband equall to
Her selfe in birth, that can give Beasts too. She
Aimes only to match one that can maintaine
Her some way to her state. She is possest
What streames of gold you flow in, Sir,

Ware-h.
But can she
Affect my age?

Banes.
I askt her that; and told her
You were about some threescore, Sr, and ten;
But were as lusty as one of twenty, (or
An aged Eunuch)

Ware-h.
And what replyed shee?

Bans.
shee,
Like a true Lucrece, answerd it was fit
For them to Marry by the Church booke, who
Came there to coole themselves; But to a Mind
Chast and indued with vertue, age did turne
Love into Reverence.

Br.
Or Sr Reverence.

New.
Prythe observe.

Ware-h.
Is shee so vertuous then?

Banes.
'Tis all the fault shee has, she will out-pray
A Preacher at St Antlins; and divides
The day in exercise; I did commend
A great Precifian to her for her woman.
Who tells me that her Lady makes her quilt
Her smocks before for kneeling.

Ware-h.
Excellent Creature!

Banes.
Then, Sir, she is so modest.

Ware-h.
Too.

Banes.
The least
Obscene word shames her, a lascivious Figure
Makes her doe pennance; and she maintaines the Law
Which forbids fornication, doth extend
To kissing too.

Ware-h.
I thinke the time an age
Till the solemnity be past.

Banes.
I have
Prepared her, Sr, and have so set you out!
Besides, I told her how you had cast of
Your Nephew, and to leave no doubt that you
Would ere be reconcil'd, before she went
To Church would settle your estate on her,
And on the Heyres of her begotten.

Ware-h.
To make all sure,
Wee'l call upon my Lawyer by the way,
And take him with us.

Banes.
you must be married, Sr,
At the French Church, J have bespoke the Priest;
One that will joyne you i'th right Geneva forme,
Without a licence.

Ware-h.
But may a man
Wed in a strange tongue?

Banes.
I have brought together
Some in Italian, Sr, the Language doth
Not change the substance of the Match; you know
No licence will be granted, all the Offices
Are before-hand bribed by your Nephew.

Ware-h.
Well,
Lets to the Lady straight, to crosse him, I
Would marry an Arabian, and be at charge
To keepe one to interpret, or be married
In China Language, or the tongue thats spoke
Exit Ware. and Banes.
By the great Cham.

Br.
Now Newcut, you perceive
My divination's true, this fellow did
Portend a wedding.

New.
Plague oth' prognostication.
Who'd thinke that Madam were the Partye?

Br.
Oh Sr,
Shee'l call this wit to wed his baggs, and lye
With some Platonick servant.

New.
What if we
Before we goe to Plotwell, went to her
And striv'd to disswade her?

Br.
Lets make hast,
They'l be before us else.

Exeunt.

Scena. VI.

Enter Timothy unbuttoning himselfe. Aurelia. Plotwell. Dorcas. Foot-man.
Tim.
By this hand Lady you shall not deny me:
Since we are coupled, I shall thinke the Priest
Has not done all, as long as I'me a Virgin.

Aur.
Will you not stay till night, Sir?

Tim.
Night? No faith,
I've sworne to get my first child by day, you may
Be quicke by night.

Plot.
Madam, your Knight speaks reason.

Tim.
I will both speake and doe it.

Aur.
Well Sir, since
There is no remedy, your beds prepared;
By that time you are layed I'le come, Meane time
Ile pray that Gentleman to conduct you, There's
My Foot-man to plucke of your stockins.

Plotw.
Come Sir.

Tim.
Sweet Lady stay not long.

Plot.
I'le promise for her.

Dor.
Faith I admire your temperance to let
Ex. Tim. Pl. & Footman.
Your Bride-groom goe to bed and you not follow.
Were J in your case J should ha gone first,
And warm'd his place.

Aur.
Well wench but that thou hast
Reveal'd thy selfe unto me, I'de admire
To heare a Saint talke thus. To one that knowes not
The Mystery of thy strange conversion, Thou
Wouldst seeme a Legend.

Dor.
Faith I have told you all,
Both why I left my Schoole-Mistresse, who taught me
To confute Curling-Irons, and why I put
My selfe on this adventure.

Aur.
Well wench my brother
Has had his plots on me, and Ile contribute
My helpe to worke thy honest Ones on him.
Doe but performe thy taske well and thou winn'st him.

Dor.
Let me alone; never was man so fitted
Enter Foot-man.
With a chast Bride, as I will fit his Uncle.

Exit.
Foot.
Madam your Knight doth call most fiercely for you.

Aur.
Prithee, goe tell him some businesse keepes me yet,
And bid him stay himselfe with this kisse.

Scena. VII.

As they kisse.
Enter to them Bright. Newcut.
Br.
By your leave Madam, what for practise sake
Kissing your woman? Lord how a Ladies lips
Hate Idlenesse, and will be busied, when
The rest lyes fallow, And rather then want action
Be kind within themselves, an't be t'enjoy,
But the poore pleasure of contemplation!

New.
And how doe you find her Madam?

Aur.
Stay wench.
Does it not grieve you now, and make you sigh,

(New.
Lord,
And very passionately accuse Nature,
And say she was too hard to make your woman
Able to kisse you only and doe no more?

Br.
Js it not pittie but besides the guift
Of making Cawdles, and using of her Pencill,
She had the trick oth'other sexe?

Aur.
Me thinks
Your own good breeding might instruct you that
My house is not a new Foundation, where
You might, paying the rate, approach, be rude,
Give freedome to your unwasht Mouthes.

Dor.
My Lady
Keepes no poore Nuns that sinne for victuals, for you,
With whom this dead vacation you may trade
For old silke stockins and halfe shirts. They say
You doe offend oth' score, and sinne in chalke,
And the dumbe walls complaine you are behinde
Jn pension; so that your distressed Vestalls,
Are faine to foot their stockins, pay the Brewer,
And Land-Lords-rent in woman-kind, and long
More earnestly for the Terme then Norfolke Lawyers.

Br.
Why you have got a second, Ladie, your woman
Doth speake good Countrey language.

New.
Offers at wit,
And showes teeth for a jest.

Br.
We heare you are
To marry an old Citizen.

Aur.
Then surely
You were not deafe.

New.
And doe you mean his age,
Which hath seene all the Kingdome buried thrice,
To whom the heate of August is December;
Ex. Dorcas.
Who, were he but in Italy would save
The charge of Marble vaults, and coole the ayre
Better then ventiducts, shall freeze betweene
Your melting armes? Doe but consider, he
But marries you as he would doe his furres,
To keepe him warme.

Aur.
But he is rich, Sir.

Br.
Then,
In wedding him you wed more infirmities
Then ever Gallen wrot of; He has paines
That put the Doctors to new experiments.
Halfe his diseases in the Citie bill
Kill hundreds weekly. A lone Hospitall
Were but enough for him.

New.
Besides,
He has a cough that nightly drownes the Bell-man;
Calls up his Familie; all his neighbours rise
And goe by it, as by the Chimes and Clock.
Not fowre loame walls, nor saw dust put between,
Can dead it.

Aur.
Yet he still is rich.

Br.
Jf this
Cannot affright you, but that you will needs
Be blind to wholesome counsill, and will marry
One who by th'course of Nature ought t'have been
Rotten before the Queens time, and in Iustice
Should now have been some threescore yeares a Ghost,
Let pitty move you; Jn this Match you quite
Dostroy the hopes and fortunes of a Gentleman,
For whom had his penurious Uncle starv'd
And pin'd himselfe his whole life, to encrease
The riches he deserves t'inherit it
Had been his dutie.

Aur.
You meane his Nephew Plotwell;
A prodigall young man; one whom the good
Old man his Uncle kept to th'Inns of Court,
And would in time ha made him Barrester;
And raisd him to his sattin Cap, and Biggon,
In which he might ha sold his breath farre dearer,
And let his tongue out at a greater price,
Then some their Mannors. But he did neglect
These thriving meanes; followd his loose companions,
His Brights and Newcuts; two, they say, that live
By the new Heresie Platonick Love.
Can take up silks upon their strengths, and pay
Their Mercer with an Infant.

Br.
Newcut!

New.
I,
J doe observe her Character; well then
You are resolvd to marry?

Aur.
Were the Man
A statue, so it were a golden one,
I'de have him.

Br.
Pray then take along to Church
These few good wishes. May your husband prove
So jealous to suspect that when you drink
To any man you kisse the place where his
Lips were before, and so pledge meetings. Let him
Think you doe Cuckold him by looks; and let him
Each night, before you goe to rest, administer
A solemne oath, that all your thoughts were chast
That day, and that you sleep with all your hayres.

New.
And which is worse, let him forget he lay
With you himselfe, before some Magistrate
Sweare twas some other, and have it believ'd
Upon Record.

Pl.
Sister J've left your Bridegroome,
Under this key lockt in, t'imbrace your pillow.
Enter Plotw.
Sure he has eat Eringoes, he's as hot—
He was about to fetch you in his shirt.

Br.
Hows this? his sister?

New.
J conceive not this.

Pl.
My Noble friends, you wonder now to heare
Me call her sister.

Br.
Faith, Sir, we wonder more
She should be married?

New.
I'ft be your sister, we
Have labourd her she should not match her Uncle,
And bring forth Riddles, Children that should be
Nephews to their Father, and to their Uncle sonnes.

Plotw.
I laugh now at your ignorance: why these
Are projects, Gentlemen; fine ginns, and projects.
Did Roseclaps boy come to you?

Br.
Yes.

Pl.
I have
A rare Scene for you.

New.
The boy told us you were
Upon a stratagem.

Plotw.
I've sent for Roseclap,
And Captaine Quartfield to be here. J have
Put Salewit into orders, he's inducted
Into the French Church, you must all have parts;

Br.
Prithee speak out of Clowds.

Pl.
By this good light
Twere Justice now to let you both dye simple,
For leaving us so scirvily.

New.
We were
Sent for in hast by th'Benchers, to contribute
To one of 'em thats Reader.

Plotw.
Come with me,
I'le tell you then. But first J'le show you a sight
Much stranger then the Fish.

Dor.
Madam, heres Barneswright
And an old Merchant doe desire accesse.

Enter Dorcas.
Aur.
Bid 'em come in.

Pl.
Gentlemen, fall off.
Ex. Dorcas.
If we be seene the plot is spoild. Sister,
Now look you doe your part well.

Aur.
J am perfect.

Exit Plot. Br. Newc.

Scena VIII.

To Her Baneswright. Ware-house. Dorcas.
Banes.
Madam, this is the Gentleman J mention'd,
I've brought him here, according to my function
To give you both an enterview; if you
Be ready, the Church and Priest are.

Aur.
Is this, Sir,
The wealthy Merchant?

Banes.
Madam, this is He
That if you'l weare the price of Baronies,
Or live at Cleopatra's rate can keep you.

Aur.
Come you a Suitor, Sir, to me?

Ware-h.
Yes Lady,
I did imploy my speaker there, who hath
I hope inform'd you with my purpose.

Aur.
Surely,
Your speaker then hath errd; I understood
Him for my woman, if you can like her, Sir,
It being for ought I heare, all one to you,
I've woo'd her for you. But for my selfe, could you
Endow me with the streame that ebbs and flowes
In waves of gold, J hope you doe not think
Ide so much staine my birth as to be bought
To match into a Company, Sir, plainely,
I'me matcht already.

Ware-h.
Baneswright, did not you?
Tell me she'd have me?

Banesw.
Faith, Sir, I have eares
That might deceive me, but I did dreame waking
If she were not the party. Madam, pray you
One word in private.

Aur.
I'le prevent you; tis true,
My Brother laid the Scene for me, but since
W'have changd the plot, and tis contriv'd, my woman
Shall undertake my part.

Ban.
I am instructed.
I was mistaken, Sir, indeed the Lady
Spoke to me for her Gentlewoman. How
Doe you affect her, Sir? you see she is
As handsome as her Ladie, and her birth
Not being so high she will more size with you.

Ware-h.
I say, J like her best. Her Ladie has
Too much great house in her.

Ban.
Tis right; this you
May governe as you list. I'le motion't: Ladie,
Pray pardon our mistake, indeed our Errand
Was chiefly to your Gentlewoman.

Aur.
Sir,
She's one whose fortune J so much intend,
And yours, Sir, are so faire, that though there be
Much disproportion in your age, yet J
Will over-rule her, and she shall referre
Her selfe to be disposd by me.

Ware-h.
You much
Oblige me, Madam.

Aur.
Dorcas, this is the Merchant
I have provided for you, he is old,
But he has that will make him young, much Gold.

Dor.
Madam, but that I should offend against
Your care as well as my preferment, Jde
Have more experience of the Man, J meane
To make my husband. At first sight to marry,
Must argue me of lightnesse.

Aur.
Princes, Dorcas,
Doe wooe by pictures, and Ambassadours,
And match in absent Ceremonies.

Dor.
But
You look for some great portion, Sir.

Wareh.
Faire Mistresse,
Your vertues are to me a wealthy Dowry.
And if you love me J shall think you bring
More then the Jndies.

Dor.
But, Sir, 't may be
You'l be against my course of life. J love
Retirement, must have times for my Devotion,
Am litle us'd to company, and hate
The vanity of visits.

Ware-h.
This makes me
Love you the more.

Dor.
Then J shall never trust you
To goe to sea, and leave me; I shall dreame
Of nought but stormes, and Pyrats. Every winde
Will break my sleep.

War.
J'le stay at home.

Dor.
Sir, there
Is one thing more; J heare you have a Nephew,
You meane to make your Heyre. I hope you will
Settle some Joynture on me.

War.
He's so lost
In my intents that to revenge my selfe,
I take this course. But to remove your doubts,
I've brought my Lawyer with blank deeds,
He shall put in your Name, and J, before
We goe to Church will seale'em.

Dorc.
On these termes
Where is your Priest, Sir?

War.
He expects me at
The French Church, Mistresse.

Aur.
Come, when you have seald, Sir,
I'le beare a part in the solemnity.

Exeunt.