University of Virginia Library

Act. 5.

Scen. 1.

Stipes
solus.
Why so then, now we are all alone. We? you great neate,
What haue you pig's in your belly? by'r Lady, If I wist
I had, I would not vnkennell this secret yet, well if there
Were hog's in my belly too, I see that it will out;
This mouth of mine was not cut out for secret's—
O wicked seruant! lewd daughter!
O Merda, Merda, thou hast lost thy selfe

For euer, thou hast defiled my house, my good name, my family.
As I even now came from my sheepe, I found my daughter,
at her nooning forsooth, fast a slepe vpon her bed, and there
was shee (as shee vses often) campring to her selfe alone in her
sleepe, 'scoursing to her selfe, but what was her 'scourse thinke
you? Not about her huswifery; not how many hens were
with egge, but fie vpon you Ieoffry are you not ashamed? O!
Ah! fie vpon you Ieoffry are you not ashamed to touch one by
the skinne? Ile tell my father (nere moue) if you will not bee
quiet. I, I by'r Lady, worse then this, worse stuffe then
this, what shall I say? without all doubt this left legd-rascall
has dub'd mee Gran-father without Matrimony. But peace
and catch a mouse cry I, some wiser then some, old birds will
not be catch'd with shaffe. I haue a trick in store if it will take,
to be reueng'd sufficiently—no more. Ieoffry, Why Ieoffry.

Scen. 2.

Anteros, Stipes.
Ant.

What gaping knaue is that?

Stip.

How now Ieoffry? know you not mee Ieoffry? know
you not mee? But let that passe though—I'le bee with you
anon i'faith for all this geere. Come hither Left-legs, come hither.
Peace and catch a mouse cry I. Did you euer when you
were at your old Masters, learne to set a trap, Ieoffry?

Ant.

Yes a mouse trap.

Stip.

O sirrah, sirrah; but wee must haue to doe with other
gates kind of cattell, I meane a fox trap Left-legs, come hither,
come hither, looke you here, and learne, for this same night must

I send you into the Pastures to inuite my fine Reynold to morrow
to breake-fast, goe too, goe too, hee is something too familiar
with my Lambs, marke you that left-legs? A little nigher
I pray you. Helpe me to twist this Corde—Well said, be a
faithful seruant Ieoffry. You know I haue a daughter Ieofry. Peace
and catch a Mouse Ieoffry. You great dunder nose—Souds—
You'le lay both hands to work—A bots on you; you hang on my
back to see you. Your tother hand in, and draw behind thus, thus
looke you here. [He gets his hands into the cordes, and on a suddaine

tyes him too a tree.]
Ha, ha, he, foh. How ranke he smells? but
'tis no matter, I begin to grow old, and 'tis good (they say)
Against the Palsey. Ha, ha, he, he, ho. You villaine, Hee loues
Mutton well, that dips his bread in'th wooll.
No lesse then your Masters daughter Left-legs?
Come on in troth, vpsolue me this question is she not tender?
is she not delicate? a pretty morsell? does shee not rellish well?
a pretty morsell? but I'le teach you sirrah to play the Mason, and
lay your chips o'th rock where you're desired Left-legs, where
you're desired. But I am something feeble through my age,

And cannot longer hold out 'scourse with you
Without my staffe, without my supporter, sir,
I pray you doe not stirre till my returne,
But let me finde you here, I haue some businesse,
Goe to, goe to, I haue some businesse with you.
Exit Stipes.

Sce. 3.

Anteros, Loueall.
Ant.
Nay 'tis no matter I deserue it all,
Troth I doe hope that he will bast me soundly.
Beshrow his fingers if he does not, soundly.
I must be in my tricks, forsooth, my tricks:
Haue my devices, and my turnes, my changes.
Enter Loueall.
But torment of all torments! here comes Loueall.
Why this is worse then fiue and twenty beatings;
O that some greedy vndertaker of liues
Would giue me but a double Stiuer now
For mine, that I might cozen him. As sure
As Death, or Iustice Hookes deuouring pawes.
I shall be ieer'd to death, immediatly.

Loue.
It is a strange darke melancholly this
That thus torments my Sister, I haue beene
An houre with her, and in all that time
Cannot perswade her troubled soule to forme
The least ayre shee breathes, into articulate language.
But stay what haue wee here?

Ant.
Now it begin's.

Lou.
A man tyed to a tree?

Ant.
I would your tongue
Was tyed as fast; then there was hope I might
Escape with life.

Lou.
What are you fellow, speake?

Ant.
You may goe looke, goe meddle with your owne.

Lou.
So angry 'pray thee? how came thy hands in morgage?
Shall I redeeme them?

Ant.
Redeeme your owne land's I pray you,
Let me alone or else I'le spurne you—yet
Hee knowes mee not.

Lou.
Sure I haue seene that face.

Ant.
O, O, O—.

Lou.
Is't hee or not, ha? Anteros.

Ant.
No more.
Death not a word.

Lou.
But heauen and earth man! how
Comes this to passe? What has begot this change?

Ant.
Wilt thou vnty me? I will tell thee all.

Lou.
But pray thee Anteros.—

Ant.
But pray thee Iack
Thou wilt vndoe me quite by thy delayes,
Wilt thou vndoe me?

Lou.
'Tis not a friendly part.

Ant.
Pox o'that ieast, as common as a woman,
Or her Synonomy; wilt thou vnty mee?

He vntyes him.
Lou.
'Tis done.

Ant.
Thou art my Patron Loueall, So.
But stay a while, I must desire your ayde
A little further.

Lou.
What has hee now in hand?

[He pulls off his Shepheards robes which were aboue his owne, pluckes Garters, Pumps, Roses, a Band out of his Pocket.]
Ant.
Can you become a peaceable man?

Lou.
How now?
A Snake, a Snake; hee's young againe, ha, ha, he.
What? Pinkes and Roses too? Why so, hee pluckes
Iune out ot's pecket.

Ant.
Can you be quiet yet?

Lou.
And Garters too?

Ant.
That slippery tongue of yours
I doubt will spoyle all.

Lou.
What? and a band? so, so;
The vayle of Tempe's not so fresh, the picture,
The very picture of the Spring, when th'earth
Layes by her freeze-coate, and turnes Forrester.

Ant.
Thus far it prospers, once more your help sweet Iack,
Nay come, and take me that same rope againe,
And binde me as I was before, directly
In the same garbe you found me—Doe not stand
Gazing, but do't.

Lou.
Thou art not mad I hope?

Ant.
If I be mad, I will not trouble you
For counsaile, nor for Physick; nay wilt thou come?
But hold a little, I must first borrow of you
Your Hat, and Sword.

[Hee lends him his hat and sword.]
Lou.
Which way this plot will looke
I know not—there—come let me see your hand's
Since you wil needs.

Ant.
Why now thou'rt right, thou'rt right,

Lou.
What will you haue me doe besides? come on,
Your legges too if you will.

Ant.
No more, St. harke.
The Sheepheards doore. Trouble vs not good Loueall.
Onely stand close and heare.

Lou.
What should this meane?

Scen. 4.

Stipes with a cudgell in his hand. Anteros. Loueall.
Stip.

Fie Ieoffry, are you not asham'd, to touch one by the
skinne? My daughter denies all this most stifly but I will Ferret-claw
my Lobcock i'faith. So, now I am arm'd. Goe to, goe to,
come you knaue, where are you?

Lou.

Ha, ha, he.

Stip.

Ha? ha? ha? How now by'r Lady?
How now? I, I, by'r Lady? what's this? What's this? gaudy?
gaudy? Fine cloathes? fine cloathes? Ha? has no body stole
my eyes? let me be sure of that in the first place. Am I Stipes
or not? ha? ha? ha? Is this our Ieoffry or not?

Ant.

Stipes,
Stipes I say.

Stip.
This is another voyce an other face
Without all question this is Fayrie Ground;
My man is chang'd.

Lou.
ha, ha, he.

Ant.
St.

Stip.
hi, hi, hi.
A sweard too? a sweard too? a whiniard too?

Ant.
Stipes.

Stip.

Well I will venture to speake what ere come on't, but
stay, I'le first say o're the charme my Mother learnt me.

Beest thou deuill gentle, or beest thou deuill curst,
In the name of Saint Swithin doe thy worst.

There's sauce for your Ecles what e're you are. Now see if I
cannot shape you an answere.

Ant.

Come nearer to mee.

Stip.

Are you auis'd of that? older and wiser, Soft fire makes
sweet Mault, No hast to hang true men; come nearer quoth you?
I am neare enough already for the good you'le doe me I doubt,
Come nearer say you? No good M. Deuill I am very wel I thank
you, goe to, come nearer when you haue a Sweard, a Twybill?

Ant.
My hands are bound man.

Lou.
What wil becom of this?

Ant.
St'.

Stip.
If your feet were bound too, I'le not trust you
As long as you have a Sweard by your side, a Whiniard.

Ant.
Do but heare me. Had not you a man to day call'd Ieoffry?

Stip.

Yes marry had I; what say you to that now? Nay I'le
keepe my selfe out of your clouches I warrant you.

Ant.

But what's become of that same Ieoffry?

Stip.

Become? become? 'spose I spurd you an answere, and
said I know not, what can you make of that now? make mee a
horsenaile of that.

Ant.

Doe you desire to know?

Stip.
Yes marry doe I. Crack mee that nut now if you be a
Gentleman Deuill.—

Ant.
I am that Ieoffry, but no seruant now
Of your's, but mine owne man: and am become
Since your departure, noble, rich, valiant,
Am form'd a new out of the Mint,—behold me.
And this great miracle Obron the Fayry King
Has wrought vpon me.

Stip.

Oberum? Oberum? you tell me
strange things.

Ant.

But shal I tel thee stranger things thē these?

Stip.

'Spose you did.

Ant.

And such as shall be for thy benefit?—

Stip.

Would you would else. Nay stare on with your gogles
till Barly comes to six pence a bushell. You know your wages,
some wiser then some, cry I: I'le keepe farre enough off you:
I'le tell you but so. Goe to, goe to, I am a crafty colt.

Ant.

You know I vvas your seruant to day.

Stip.

Well put the case.

Ant.

Poore, ill apparelled.

Stip.

Put the case the second time.

Ant.

But now you see
how strangely altered.

Stip.

Well put the case againe.

Ant.
VVhat vvill you say now to the man that shall
Put you into the same condition?
Recouer you from rag's and Russet, and
Dye you in scarlet: lick that rude lump your body
Into the shape, and garbe o'th court? or (once)
Make you a gentleman as I am now?

Would you not thanke him Stipes? ha? would you not
thanke him?

Stip.
Thanke him Mr. Ieoffry? I, with all my heart.

Ant.
Set him at liberty then that will performe it.
Quickly vnloose me?

[Hee vntyes him.]
Stip.

I, I by'r Lady? will you so Mr. Ieoffry? will you so?
goe to, goe to, a gentleman? sayd you mee so? I con you thanke
Mr. Ieoffry.

Ant.
So, now will I vnfold the mysterie.
But first you here shall promise mee that you
Will take noe prentises to learne your trade,
When I haue taught you the art; you will impouerish
The herald's office, and forestall his market.

Stip.
No truely Mr. Ieoffry.

Ant.
I am satisfied;
Seest thou that tree? 'twas made for thy aduancement.
Giue mee thy hands that I may tye them quickly.

Stip.
Are you avis'd o' that?

Ant.
What doe you meane?
You'le bee preuented by another—death!
Yonder comes one will be before you—quickly
There's such a vertue (man) in this same tree,
That who-soere is bound vnto it, shall
Bee turn'd immediately to a gentleman.
Nay come.

Stip.
but is this true?

Ant.
beleeue your eyes.
Heart of my father, man! youle bee preuented.

Stip.

A gentleman? sayd you me so? goe to, goe to, [He tyes Stipes to the tree.]

Good Master Ieoffry quickly—so but stay.
When I'me a gentleman may I not vse, my old trade of sheepherd
still? I would not leaue it.

Ant.

O, and inclose; 'tis all in
fashion.

Stip.

I, I, by'r Lady? thats well, but stay againe.

Ant.

Nay you are like to stay now, I haue you sast enough

Stip.

'Sduds, if thou be'st a good coniurer make me a knight
to. I haue a pestilent itch after a knighthood.

Ant.
You must take gentleman first 'ith way.

Stip.
Let mee skip gentleman good Mr. Ieoffry, 'duds
I know knights in this countrey that neuer were
Gentlemen—but vpsolue me this question? can you make
My daughter Merda a gentleman too?

Ant.
A gentle woman
Stipes I can.

Stip.
I, I, so I meant it—Merda, Merda,
A bots on you, Merda, are you dreaming againe?

Ant.
O for some nimble pated fellow now
To make an Ob'ron of.

Lou.
Ile furnish thee.
There is a notable witty bedlam begging
At our back gate iust now. I'le fetch him to thee.

Ant.
If thou do'st loue mee, doe.—

Exit Loveall.
Stip.
Why Merda, you'l come when your nowne father cals?

Sce. 5.

Merda, Stipes. Anteros. Loveall. A Bedlam.
Merda.
What doe you say Father forsooth?

Stip.

That's a good girle. Nay shee's towardly enough,
shee'l quickly learne. Why doe you stare so on Mr. Ieoffry?

Merd.

What man is this Father?

Stip.

Come you'r a foole, let that man alone. Wee shall bee
gentlefolkes our selues my chucken, giue him your hands to ty
I say, be obedient.

Thou presently shalt see thine owne sweet father,
As fine as hee, and thou my litle Sweet-lipp's
Shalt be a gentlewoman too, goe to, good Ieoffry tye her hands.

Ant.
How Ieoffry?

Sti.
Good Mr. Ieoffry.

Ant.
That's another thing.

Mer.

Father forsooth shall I haue as fine cloth's on as Mistris
Vrsly forsooth?

Stip.

O! she's halfe turn'd already: forsooth and a curtsey at euery
word; Mrs. Vrsely? thou shalt put Mrs. Ursly into a pint pot.

Merd.

O the Lord! pray you forsooth Sir who so e're you are
doe mee quickly forsooth.

Ant.

But here's not rope enough.

Stip.

Take off your garter quickly you Maukin you.

Mer.

Here forsooth. And father, must I take place of my
mother when I'm a Gentlewoman?

Ant.

Good.

Stip.

Marry shalt thou goldy locks, and be a Lady,
and contemne her.

Call her the good old country woman too.

Ant.
Stipes, but one word more and then I'le leaue you
Vnto your new creation—haue you nothing
Within your house to couer you? the crowes
Perhaps may bee too impudent and saucy
With you, and now you can not helpe your selfe you know.

Stip.
I, I by'r Lady? 'twas well thought vpon,
Good Mr. Ieoffry step into my house,
[He goes out and returnes presently with a long gray cloak.
You there shall finde my cloake, vse that.

Ant.
'Tis of a swooping cut, but now be sure
You doe not speake a word what noise so ere
You chance to heare, perhaps the fairy King
Will take some pawse, study a while, consult
With his Queene Mab about you how to polish
And frame you of a purer shape then ordinary.
Doe you marke that? St, not a word good Stipes.

Stip.
Ah sweet Mr. Ieoffrey.

[Enter Loueall with a Bedlam.]
Ant.
Peace and catch a mouse cry I.

Love.

Come on braue Tom, come on braue Tom. Remember
your instructions Tom.

Bedl.

Let braue Tom alone. Let braue Tome alone.

Ant.

A most authentick rogue, how he does stretch it?
paratragœdiate?

Bedlam
sings.
Newly from a poach'd Trade, and
A broyl'd a Viper, King of Fayry land
I Ob'ren doe arise, to see.
What mortall Fortune here hath tyed vnto my sacred Tree.

Stip.

O Mr. Ieoffry, is that Ob'rum? Pray you let me see
him.

[Ant lifts vp the cloake and Stipes sees him.]

Is this Obrum? 'sduds, hee is but poorely parrelled himselfe
me thinkes.

Ant.

St.

Stip.

Peace and catch a mouse cry I, but
once more good Mr. Ieoffry, Let me haue but
one sight more of him. Mr. Ieoffry does hee
Ant lifts up the cloake againe.
vse to giue away his cloathes when hee makes gentlefolkes?
'sduds I doubt he has none left for me.

Ant.

What doe you meane?

Stip.

Peace!and catch a mouse
cry I.

Mer.

Good father let mee see Obrum too; ah, hee has a
horne like a Tom of Bedlam.

Stip.

Peace, I wu'd not for the best
cow in my yard that he should heare thee.

Bedlam
sings.
Beest thou ruder then was e're
The halfe extrement of a Beare,
Or rougher then the Northerne winde
Cam'st thou of a Satyres kind.
Be whatsoeuer thou can'st be.
So thou shalt remaine for mee.

Ant.

Did you heare that Stipes?

Stip:

I, good Master

Ieoffry, stand farther you great baggage and make roome for
your fathers 'proaching greatnesse.

Ant.

But see my father, Loveall. 'Pray thee conuey away
the Bedlam any whether, carry him into your house againe and
shoote him out at the back dore.

Love.

Anteros, I'le leaue you to
your busines. I'le in and fetch an other hat. Come brave Tom.

Bed.

Let braue Tom alone.

[Ex. Lou. & Bedlam.]
Ant.

The
Iustice too, 'tis so. Now am I hunted for about a wedding.

Sce. 6.

Iustice Hooke, Terpander, Anteros Mrs. Vrsly.
Hooke.
Terpander, you haue heard how much this match
May both concerne you and your Sonne, your fortunes:
The greater part of your inheritance
You know is mortgag'd to mee, nay (Ile tell you)
If I would vse that rigour of the law
'Tis forfeited and past recouery;
Thinke therefore quickly, if you would be free
From all those cares and troubles which afflict
Such as do liue in debt, compell your Son
To marry this my daughter.

Ant.
I am a witch,
A witch, a witch a rancke, starke stinking witch.

Hooke.
It is an ample dowrie I confesse,
And litle 'tis agreeing to my nature
To buy a husband at so deare a rate,
But I haue something that sounds father in mee;
And must not loose a daughter, if there bee
A remedy in nature. True it is,
That (by what angry Deity I know not)
Shee has so fixt her loue vpon your Son,
That I doe thinke naught but a quick fruition
Can rescue her from a death.

Ter.
Good Iustice Hooke,
I doe confesse your offer's fayre, and would
Accept it willingly but that—

Hooke.
But what?

Ter.
I feare my Son will not agree vnto't.

Ant.
Sir had you ta'ne an oath vpon the same
I would haue borne your sin, had you beene puriur'd.

Ter.
You know he hates all women.

Hooke.
very good.
Is he not your's, and vnder your command?
Wee fathers make our children refractory,
By being too indulgent over them;
Besides, I am perswaded that his vertues
Will not permit him for to contradict
Th'authority of a father.

Ant.
O ye Gods
Can ye permit this Villaine to profane
The sacred name of Vertue thus, who himselfe
Is nothing elss but a meere heape of vices?

Ter.
I ever yet found him obedient,
Nor doe I doubt to win him now: how ever,
I am resolv'd if he in this shall crosse me,
I'le disinherit him immediatly.

Ant.
I? is it come to that already? well
Prepare thy selfe now Anteros for th'encounter.

Hooke.
But see your sonne. Tis your best course at first
T'accost him gently.

Ter.
How now my son? how fare you?

Ant.
I am not well sir.

Ter.
How not well? your colour
Does not proclaime you very sicke, but say.

Ant.
Ther's something in my eyes that troubles me.

Ter.
What's that?

Ant.
A mote, a woman.

Ter.
After the old fashiō still?
Come on my son, I haue bin seeking of you,
And peradventure you may guesse the cause,

Ant.
I would I could not.

Hooke.
Hold up your head my daughter
And summon your best lookes in to your face.

Ter.
As I did walke even now into my pasture,
I did begin to thinke.

Ant.
That I was old,
That must be next.

Ter.
That now I'me strucke in yeares;

Ant.
Good, strucke in yeares;
And could he not as frugally have dispatcht it
In that one word of old?

Ter:
And—

Ant:
That it will be a comfortable sight
To see you married before I dye.

Ter:
That it will be a comfortable sight
To see you marryed before my death.

Ant:
I told you so, it is the common roade
Which they all use when they would pin a wife
Vpon the son. I wonder all this while
The staffe of's age, propp of his family
Did not come in.

Ter:
Whilest I was thinking thus,
Old justice Hooke, a Gentleman of rancke,
And of a family not to be despis'd,
Came to me with his daughter, and desir'd
Our friendship and affinitie; and to be briefe,
We haue concluded 'twixt yee two a marriage,
Which must be present; as for the portion,
H'as promis'd in the wedding fire to sacrifice
The Bonds wherein our Lands stand forfeited.
A thing beyond my hopes, or your deserts.

Ant.
A pox upon that thumbe under the girdle
There's mischiefe ever toward's: I never knew
One of that garbe that prov'd an honest man.
'Tis the graue cheating posture of the citie.

Ter.
What's that you mutter to your selfe? come speake.

Ant.
I am contented sir.

Ter.
Well said my son.

Ant.
But upon this condition, that it shall
Be lawfull too for me to sacrifice
Vnto the aforesaid fire a certaine trifle
Of mine.

Ho.
Whats that?

Ant.
My wife, & your faire daughter.

Ter.
Out on you traytor.

Ant.
Sir, by yea and nay
It cannot be afforded cheaper.

Hoo.
Wretch
And profane person.

Ter.
Sai'st thou so thou villaine?
Hast thou no more regard unto thy father,
Nor to his shipwrackt fortunes, that thou thus
Do'est studie his undoing? plot his ruine?

Ant.
But father, if I marry her to day,
When must the wooing be? to morrow sir?

Hoo.
Thou shalt not need to wooe her Anteros,
Shee is thine owne already.

Ant.
Is shee so?
Would you was hang'd sir for the newes.

Ter.
Pish, dome,
I will not spend an article of ayre
Vpon him more—good Mr Hooke lets goe,
The following houre shall see him no son of mine.

Hoo.
O, mildly sir.

Ant.
It is determined
By all the starres, they haue consulted, plotted
To make me miserable.

Hoo.
Come Terpander,
You are too harsh with him, I know your sonne
Does more esteeme of Vertue and Religion—

Ant.
Good Master Sacriledge, a word in private
(A little farther, yet a little farther)
How came you by that strange exotick word
You us'd but now? had you'r on interest?
Or was it lent you gratis of a friend?

Hoo.
What word good Anteros?

Ant.
Religion.
For I am sure yet thou never hadst,
Nor ever wilt haue any of thine owne.

Hoo.
O profane person!

Ter.
This once I speake it.
Wilt haue his daughter?

Ant.
What shall I answer him?
I shall be dis-inherited that's certaine.

Ter.
He melts, Mr Hooke, hee melts, I feele him comming.
Hee is our owne.

Ant.
But why so suddenly?
Good sir, at least giue me some time to think.

Ter.
Never hope it.

Ant.
But why sir to day?

Ter.
Because it pleaseth him it most concernes.

Ant.
Doe but deferr it till to morrow sir,
(Could I obtaine but this request, I was happy,
aside.
I'de keepe to morrow in another world)

Ter.
Vntill to morrow? not for an houre: I know
Your disposition sonne too well for that.
I haue you now, but where you'l be next day,
Hee's wiser then your father that does know.

Ant.
But father, I beseech you heare.

Ter.
But son
I will not heare, I tell you. Master Hooke,
You here doe giue your daughter?

Hoo.
Willingly.
Anteros, receiue thy loving wife.

Ter.
How now?
You will not urge me?—goe too, doe not doe it.

Ant.
O that mine armes are now at libertie!
O Stipes, happiest man aliue, thou hast
No hands to make a contract,—is there never
A Mouse-hole hereabouts to creepe into?
But stay awhile, my paper portion.
The writings.

Hoo.
Take them.

Ant.
You'r an honest man.
[He giues them him, & Ant. teares thē in pieces.]
Tis right.

Hoo.
Now take your wife.

Ant.
I wish you a Barber sir.
Is that faire Edifice yours?

Hoo.
It is my sonne.

Ant.
Gooder and gooder still; my son? then take
My counsell sir, go to your house and purge,
You will be mad else presently; prevent
The current of the humour, for I see
(With that poore little reading which I haue
I'th volume of man) by your distempered looks,
That some strange deepe, and conquering Melancholy
E 're long will seize you: why doe you follow me
Thus with your braided ware? nay never frowne,
Good Mr Iustice, let's haue no Warrants made,
Nor Mittimusses with your distorted lookes;
Wee haue a forehead too, and can looke grim,
And make as ugly and prodigious faces,
As the most ignorant Iustice of you all.
But shall I tell you (sweet Mr Velvet-hose)
What I will doe, because you were so kind,
For to deliuer in the Bonds for nothing?
Nay sir, I must transplant these thumbes, before
I can resolue you: so.—Thou'rt a damn'd rascall,
And I will cut that throat of thine (doe you marke?)
And when I'ue done, will fillip that morsell, woman,
On an embassage to my Hawkes, no more;
By heauens I'le do't.

Hoo.
On Traytor, Miscreant,
Daughter take heed; Terpander, O Terpander,
He threatens me to cut my throat.

Ter.
How's that?

Ant.
Sir, you must pardon him, the man is mad.

Hoo.
He sweares he will make hawkesmeat of my daughter.

Ant.
On my virginitie sir, he does me wrong;
I did not charge a syllable upon him,
But fell as coolely from me as a dow
Vpon a drooping field; each word I vented
VVas steep'd in an hony-combe. I did but bid him
In a plaine, civill dialect to provide
An other husband for his daughter: for
I doubted that I should not be at leasure
This brace or two of yeeres to marry her.
And I may tell you sir, indeed I cannot.

Hoo.
O, O, am undone, cheate! and gull'd, undone,
Villaine I'le bind thee to thy good behaviour.

Ant.
I would you could sir, I would thank you for't:
But fie M. Hooke, a head of that silver dye,
A beard of such an honourable length,
For to bee gull'd? and so egregiously?
By a young man with ne're a haire o'ns face?

Ter.
Come sonne, I doe not like these courses, nor
Doe they become a Gentleman, I'le not haue
That contumely dwell our family,
That we should use such indirect proceedings
For to reedifie our tottering fortunes.
By all the Magicke in the name of Father
I doe conjure thee; by this aged head,
And these gray hayres, by thy dead Mothers Vrne,
By all her cares and feares, by what is dearest
Vnto thy soule, I charge thee, take his daughter.

Ant.
Without all question I am the first, the first
That ever pierie has made miserable.
Well Master Hooke, you see what may be done,
VVhat angry spirits a man may lay, while he
Does stand secure within the circle of father.
Your daughter I will haue; onely know this,
There is another thing which belongs to her,
Which I must haue too, that's the Parsonage;
'Twas ever yet allotted for her portion,
And I expect my right.

Hoo.
How? woe is me,
I am undone.

Ant.
Before I stretch forth a paw
Towards her, i'le haue it.

Vrs.
Father, good father let him,
He will go back from's word els.

Ho.
Well, he shall haue it.
Hold: by the vertue of this writing, it
Is lawfull for you (after old Liuelyes death)
For to present the first Fy, fy, fy, fy.
I had this drawne (alas) for another end.

Ant.
My law does tell mee it will doe. Come on,
Since there's no remedy, let's even to't.
Yes hangman, I forgiue thee heartily,
'Tis but thy office.

Hoo.
Come Terpander, we
VVill keepe the wedding at my house, but heare you?
The cost and charges shall be yours.

Ter.
Agreed,
Most willingly. Follow me sonne and daughter.

[She sits downe, & puls stones out of her pocket]
Vrse.
Come husband Anteros, will you play at chackstones
VVith me?

Ant.
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
I will bee there immediatly: nay goe.

Scen. 7.

Anteros, Stipes, Merda ad arborem.
Ante.
So, I haue made a fine dayes worke of this:—
Well, there's no remedy, it must be so.
But I must take my leaue in forme: Farewell
Yee chimney gods, protectours of our family;
Stipes.

Stip.
A bott's vpon you, that same tongue
Of yours must needs be wagging.

Mer.
Indeed Father
I did not speake a word, no that I did not.

Stip.
Wee must begin againe now for your tatling,
Did not the Gentleman command vs silence?

Ant.
Stipes adiew, I am exceeding sorry
I cannot stay to see you a Gentleman.
Spruce M. Noddle, euen adiew to you.
Good M. Mungrell, kinde Sir Hammershin.
Sweet M. William, I am Melancholly
To part with you as I am a liuing saule.

Sce. 8.

Anteros. Loueall.
Lou.
Why whether in such hast?

Ant.
To banishment.
My name is written in the oyster shell;
I am too happy in a wife Iack Loueall,
My fellow Cittizens doe enuie me.
Farewell.

Lou.
In troth I thanke you hartily,
I hope you'l first deliuer back againe
My Sword and Hatt.

Ant.
By my best wishes Iack
I thought not of them; 'pray thee take them to thee.

Lou.
I will take thee my little Cupid-whipper.
You must not goe.

Ant.
Let me alone good Loueall,
Doest thou not heare how with an euen gale
That Southwest winde murmers amongst the trees?
Within these foure and twenty houres I may
Touch on the Belgick shore.

Lou.
The Belgick shore?
What wilt thou doe there man?

Ant.
I'le traile a pike,
Turne Lance prezado, or Bedee, or any thing
To patch vp a wretched life.

Lou.
You'l turne a coxcombe.

Ant.
I neuer shall endure to liue a husband
The very name of wife will turne my stomack.
I shall haue threescore vomits in a day.

Lou.
What wilt thou say now Anteros if I set thee
As free from this same marriage, as the childe
Which ten moneths since was but an Embryo?

Ant.
Thou canst not.

Lou,
I can doe it, feare it not.

Ant.
Thou canst not man, 'tis past recouery.

Lou.
What wilt thou giue me if I doe effect it?

Ant.
Giue thee? I'le sacrifice my selfe vnto thee
My Iupiter, build vp a Temple for thee
Shall take the heauens from Atlas shoulders, and
Giue him a lubile for euer—Speake.
Hee shall be at leasure all the rest of's life,
For to catch Butterflies—But you doe mock mee,
Farewell.

Lou.
But stay.

Ant.
Doe but effect it Iack.
And I will straight make warre vpon the Turke,
Giue thee his Diademe and Scepter—Speake.
The Persian shall be the Master of thy Horse,
The Germane I will make thy cup-bearer.

Lou.
Ha, ha, he. And so I shall haue all my drink drunk vp,
Thank you for that.

Ant.
Nay wilt thou speake, or else
Let me be gone.—The Dukes of Italy
Shall be thy footboyes.

Lou.
Here's a braue promiser!
Why this out does the Court; but do'st thou heare?
How wilt thou doe all this?

Ant.
Nay 'troth I know not,
But I will doe it, and let that suffice.

Lou.
Well then be silent.—Placenta the Shepheards wife
Soone as she heard a marriage was in motion
Betwixt my Kinswoman and your selfe, came running
To me in hast, and cry'd what doe they meane?
It is not fit, nor can it be (vnlesse
That they will violate the lawes of Nature)
That Anteros should haue this Gentlewoman;
I aske the cause, the Midwife answereth
Because she is his Sister.

Ant.
How? my Sister?

Lou.
And is it possible that this is true?

Lou.
True.

Ant.
Stay.

Lo.
Nay wil you heare with patience?
Or else—.

Ant.
as silent as a midnight minute,
Or else a Counsellour without a fee,
I'le stand and heare, and suck it in, and—

Lou.
Yet?

Ant.
I'ue done.

Lou.
Then heare; it seem's that Dorothæa
My Vncles wife, some seuenteene yeares agoe
Supposing shee had beene with childe, prouided
Such necessaries for her, as a woman
That is in her estate might stand in neede of;
'Twas fam'd about the Country: but at last
She found her selfe deluded by a tympany,
But fearing lest she should prove the table talke o'th countrey,
Takes counsell with Placenta for to faigne
A birth, and to that ende employeth her
(Being a Midwife) to procure for money,
The Childe of some poore woman new deliver'd.
At the same time it fortun'd Anteros
That your mother cryed for Innos helpe,
Which she obtayned, and was deliver'd
Of this your Sister, whom when she perceiv'd
To be deformed, and distort; at length
She was or'ecome by th'Midwife for to part
With her new purchac'd Infant, t'was agreed,
And the birth straight given out to be abortive,
And which is more, beleev'd, and for to colour
The matter o're the better, they did bury
An empty coffin. In the meane time your sister
Was secretly convey'd vnto my Aunt,
VVho presently did faigne to be in travaile,
And was deliver'd in conceit of Her,
VVho but a while agoe vvas call'd your wife.
T'was not long after, but the brace of mothers
Did travaile both together to the dead,
And left my vncle a supposed daughter.
You have the history.

Ant.
And with it heaven,
And immortality: (O Loveall, Loveall;
By all the Deityes I could embrace thee
For this thy happy newes, wer't thou a vvoman.

Love.
But whats become of all your promises?

Ant.
O tis a taste, a spice of greatnesse, Iacke,
To promise.

Loue.
And to performe iust nothing.

Ant.
You doe not heare me say so. VVhat's the matter?

Scena 9.

Hooke, Loueall, Anteros, the 6, Schollers.
Loue.
But see the wooers are discarded quite
My vncle beates them out of doores.

Hook.
You villaines—
Out of my house yee brood of caterpillers,—
Sonne of a hedge and Moone-shine; goe—fy, fy, fy.
O misery beyond—come out you rascall,
And bring your piping nose along with you;—
A fire upon this hollow ruffe of yours,
'Tis like your heart—out rogues, and ruffians—
O I am undone.—

Exit.
Ant.
Ha, ha, he. Loveall, these men are mine;
I am the Patron of the living now,
Dost thou see this?

Lou.
I heard as much within.

Ant.
I will behave my selfe most scurvily,
Like to some surly crabbed Patron now,
That has some 6, or 7 tyr'd horses tyed
At's dore. How now?

Zea.
Patron.

[He salutes Anteros winking, He in the meane time cuts away the blacke box that hung at his girdle.
Ant.
What sayes my Client?
Loveall, I pray thee catechize this box,
Ther's good stuffe in't I warrant thee.

Zea.
Good Patron.

Arthur.
Heare me Sir, I'le dispatch it in three words,
This is a tedious Asse, and readeth nought
But English Treatises.

Zea.
Sir, will it please you
To take particular notice?—

Tem.
Sir.

Stu.
But Patron—

Omnes.
Patron.

Ant.
Who! now the sent growes hot, 'tis ranck,
The game's in view. Haup,—rate them there—no more
You Sir, that are the ring-leader of this rout.—

Zea.
Kings be profane.

Ant.
'Sdeath! what a pack of rogues
Are got together here? what is your name?

Zeal.
Zealous Knowlittle:

Ant.
Zealous Knowlittle? good;
Of which Vniversitie?

Zeal.
Of both the Vniversities.

Ant.
A very likely thing: good Mr Knowlittle
Separate your selfe a little from the people.

Zeal.
With all my heart, I'le separate.

Ant.
Your name?

Temp.
My name is Tempest Allmouth sir.

Ant.
How? Tempest Almouth? where are thy braines man?

Arth.
He has not any.

Ant.
Beare him company.

Loue.
What haue we here? Item, to send forth tickets
To all the Brethren that doe inhabite
Within this Shire, to giue them intimation,
That M. Mother-tongue stands the first of Iune.

Ant.
You that are next him?

Arm.
Arthur Armestrong sir.

Ant.
You there Colosse?

Stutch:
My name is Stutchell Legg.

Ant.
Troth, and thou art well underlay'd indeed,
A couple of foot-ball players I warrant them.

Lou.
Item:—a pox upon't, here's bawdery,
Ile rake noe deeper in this puddle.—so.

Ant:
And what must we call you?

Gan:
Ganimede Eilpot.

Ant:
Thou should'st be a good fellow by thy name.
Come on; what glorious title I beseech you
Has bounteous Nature fixt on you: nay open.

Hugo.
My name is Hugo obligation.

Ant:
How? Hugo obligation? 'pray thee Loveall
Is not this shorne bearde villaine the precise Scriveneur,
Would faine turne Priest?

Lou:
The very same I take it.

Ant.
Meddle not with me Iack. Nay doe not hold me.
A whoreson Inkebottle, and two skins of parchment,
He drawes his Sworde.
Dares he hope for my sister, and a living?
You slave, are Parsonages in this age so cheape?

Lou:
'Pray thee Anteros.

Ant.
Doe not entreat me Loveall,
He dyes: this hat is not more mortified.

Lou:
'Pray thee be quiet.

Ant:
Hang him, a death's too good
For such a rascall.—Sirrah, I'le cut indentur's
Vpon your skin. And here's another Villayne,
Whose very countenance speakes Servingman,
Filpot come hither.

Lou:
Nay but Anteros.

Ant:
Death man! our Vniversities doe swarme,
They have more Schollers then they know to spend
While they are Sweet: and must such Rogues as these,
Whose height of knowledge is to spit and snuffle,
And talke some 3. houres non-sense, shoulder them
Out of their places? what is't that makes so many
Of our quick witt's turne Iesuits, and forsake
Both their Religion and their Country thinke you?
Sirrah noe more then thus, lye and thou dyest.
Have not you beene a Serving-man sometimes?

Gan:
Yes truely sir, I'le not deny't, I was
A gentlemans butler once.

Ant:
I told you so.
The very chipping's hang in's eye-brow's still.
His face unto this instant minute shines
With broken beere that was his fees, stand by,
And doe not hope so large a benefit
From me as to be kill'd, live, live, unhappy.
You M. knowlittle know you whose box is this?

Zeal:
Truely 'tis mine, verily.

Ant:
Away you stinkards,
I wilbe visited no more to day.
Avoyde I say. Have I not done it well?

Exeunt Suitors.
Lou:
Oh noe, you want the pawses, and the hums,
And the grave thumbe under the girdle too.

Ant:
Oh, that's for old living brokers, I'me a young one.

Lou.
You must indent then with them, for to keepe you
Some hounds or cocks, and get a handsome wife
To entertaine you.

Ant.
A wife? a thunderbolt
Is entred me, 'pray thee no more.

Lou:
How now?

Scena 10.

Iustice Hooke, Terpander, Mistris Vrsly, Loveall, Anteros, Placenta, Neander, Constantina (as dead,) brought in by two of Lively's servants, three Fidlers, one of them carryes all the fidles, and Neanders sword, the other two leade him in.
Hooke.
And get you packing too, thou olde impostor,
With your distorted puppet here; and you
That make the custardes quake where ere you come,
Thou enemy to sweet meats.

Ter.
Mr. Hooke
'Twould rellish more of wisedome if you did
Beare out this matter coolely. Come my daughter.

Hook.
O me! the very boy's will laugh at me.

Ter.
Anteros salute your sister, and embrace her.

Ant.
I am undone againe! what shall I doe
Loveall?

Lou.
What shall you doe? why kisse her man.

Ant:
Sister god save you,—and as much to you
My never-to-be-hereafter father in law.

Hook:
Woe's me! what shall I say? what shall I doe?
I have given in the morgage, and without money.
But what new spectacle is this?

Lou:
Whats heere?
How? the dead body of a gentle-woman?

Pla:
Is this Neandur?

1 Rust.
Hold the cut-throat fidlers
Whilst we doe bring this gentlewoman 'fore the justice.

2 Rust:
A kind and loving husband sure, that has.
Made a fayre hand on's wife thus the first day.

Lou:
Ha? what is this I see? O trayterous eyes:
Can I believe ye any more? my sister?
Constantina?

Hook:
How's that?

Pla:
It cannot be.

Lou:
'Tis she. O partiall heavens! but yet it is not,
'Tis not long since I left my sister safe
Within her chamber, and in another habit—
By all the powers 'tis she—I doe profane
The god's; it is not she, it is not.—once more.
The twins of Leda were not halfe so like.
I'le be resolv'd immediatly.

Exit.
1 Rust:
Good M. justice,
I pray you heare me. As we did daunce even now
In your North field, we found this gentlewoman,
Lying all along (as to say) even quite dead,
And this her husband with his naked sword
Standing hard by her.

Hook:
Another riddle yet.
Her husband? ha? Why is not this Neander
One of the rivall's in my daughters love?

2 Rust.
Ander, or Pander, wee know not that,
But 'tis her husband, that wee'r sure of
Is he not Robbin?

1 Rust.
I that he is our Edward,
We both were present when they were detracted.

2 Rust.
Subtracted you foole. But as I sayd before
Seeing him stand so desperatly with his sword
We stole behind him, and so caught him.

Ant:
A valiant act believ't. Good sir, let's goe.

Pla:
Ah Constantina, ah good heart! was this
The journey you intended?

Ant:
Sir, I beseech you—
We shall be poyson'd with these womens sighs
He offers to goe.
'Tis worse then a Germayne hot-house.

Ter:
Anteros
Stay, we will see the end of this.

Hook:
Fye, fye, Hell is broke loose upon me: all her furies
Are come at once t'assault me.

Con:
Ah Cleopes!

she revives.
Nean:
She lives againe, O miracle of women!

Con:
Where art thou Cleopes?

Nean:
Oh hated name,
Enough t'infect the world, but that it comes
Out of those lipps.

Pla:
Speake Constantina.

Con.
What haue I to doe
With light or heaven? I will not live.

Pla:
O me!
Shee swounds againe.

1 Rust.
Why doe you rub her head
And face so much, you foolish woman you?
Let me alone, I'le find her wound I warrant you.

Pla.
Forbeare, or I'le find that swines face of yours.

She strikes him.
Const.
I am too bad for hell, they'l not receiue me,
They are afraid I should infect those soules,
Those vertuous soules which doe inhabit there.

Nean.
Art thou not softned yet Neander? Ha?
Hadst thou an heart cut out 'oth Diamond rocke,
Sure this would melt it.

Const.
O my Cleopes!

1 Rust.
What will you giue sir, and I will let you
Shift for your selfe?

Nean.
What thou deservest villaine.

2 Rust.
Halfe part, or else she shall not go.

Nea.
Take halfe.
He breakes loose, and beats them out.
I will divide my gifts betwixt yee—there.
Thou Temple of Vertue, fayrest Constantina.—

Const.
Oh I shall die againe if I see him.

Nean.
But will you liue if I doe presently
Make a divorce betwixt you and Neander?
And place you in the armes of him you so
Loue, and adore, your Cleopes?

Const.
You cannot.

Nean.
Thou'rt all divinitie, indeed I cannot.
See where Pandora comes; but now I can.
Behold my Lucius.

Sce. 11.

Laurentio, Lucius, Endymion, Pandora, Isabella, cum cæteris.
Laur.
Nay, I will still persist to follow thee
Basest of men.

End.
Good father.

Luc.
Suffer him;
His tongue has learn'd the palsie from his hands;
Alas hee's old, and must bee pardon'd for't.
But what imports this multitude? and see Neander
With his Boy-bride. Pandora, sweetest Lady—

Ant.
An other tempest! where shall I shelter me?

Luc.
By all the joyes in Loue, by all the sorrowes,
By all his Roses, and his Worme-wood, take
Thy thoughts from me, and let them doubled fall
Vpon my friend Neander.—Fairest soule,
Doe but contemplate that most curious frame
Of man, in what a pleasing harmonie
Nature has marryed all those provinces
His limbes together: view but his sparkling eye,
And reade divinitie there; looke on his hayre,
Survey his face, and fee how Majestie
And sweetnesse there doe striue for victory,
And still the issue's doubtfull.

Nean.
Lucius,
Thou shalt not overcome; disguise farewell.
O thou that art the shame of all thy sexe,
Faire Constantina, yet not halfe so faire
As vertuous, here behold thy Cleopes;
Hee discovers himselfe.
Neander's vanish'd; why doe you wonder so?
I doe confesse I lou'd that Gentlewoman,
And for her loue I tooke on this disguise,
And here for thine I put it off againe,
And on my bended knee doe begg my pardon
For all the wrong I'ue done thee

Ant.
Cleopes!

Hoo.
It is a miracle: but the bonds, the living.

Pla.
O heavens! 'tis he, most happy Constantina!

Const.
My Cleopes? grant me some respite joy
Before thou kilst me—Oh my Cleopes!
Whom doe I embrace? into whose armes am I fallen?

Cleo.
O constant virgin!

Const.
But how shall I hereafter
Giue any credit to my senses? O
Placenta, courteous Midwife, pray thee tell mee,
Where am I now? in heaven?

Pla.
Bridle your passion.

Luc.
Am I my selfe? or doe I dreame all this?

Cleo.
Lucius, take truce with wonder, I am Cleopes,
And I doe hope though now I weare that name,
As deare to thee as when I heard Neander.
You may remember when as first the beautie
Of fayre Pandora did attract your eyes
To wonder, and to loue, that I was then
A busie wooer unto Constantina:
But so it pleased Cupid, that while I
Drew out a languishing and luke-warme suit
To her, the vigour of Pandora's beames,
(As doth the Sun unto our culinar fire)
Did quite extinguish that same petty flame.
Thinking it vaine t'attempt her in that shape,
I presently did take some discontent,
And fain'd a journey into Belgia,
And not long after tooke on this disguise,
And return'd hither; where I haue remain'd
Your Rivall, and capitall friend together:
And (which I wonder at the most) unknowne:
You haue my Metamorphosis. But sweet,
How cam'st thou 'pray thee, unto Mr Liuely?
And by what trickes did he inveagle thee
Vnto this contract, since thou didst not know
That Cleopes was there invisible?

Con.
My better Genius, you shall heare within
The story whole, it is too tedious
To be told here.

Cleo.
But now Pandora, why
Stand you so dully here, and doe not flie
Into his strict embraces, who alone
Loues you, and who alone deserues your loue?

Luc.
Doe I loue her? doe I deserue her loue?
Hast thou (sweet friend) for me forsaken her,
Whom thou didst prize 'boue thine owne proper soule?
And now hast married her whom thou didst flie?
And all for my sake, and shall I thus repay thee?
But for her loue thou ne're hadst been Neander;
And but for mine hadst been Neander still;
Friend Cleopes, or if thou wilt Neander,
(Vnder both titles most belov'd of me)
Was shee all Venus; did each hayre of hers
Fetter a Loue, were there as many Cupids
That hover'd o'e her head, as there be lights
VVhich guild yon Marble roofe, by them I sweare,
By all that's Sacred, by what ever flyes
The touch of mortall eye, I sweare againe,
I would disclaime her and her loue for ever.

Pand.
Troth Lucius; I doe pitie you, that doe
Spend so much breath unto so little end,
VVhat need all these deepe protestations?
I care not this for all your loue, nor yet
For your friend Ianus there with the two faces;
Nor do I think ye men.

Luc.
So quickly?

Pan.
Yes.
I doe confesse I am a woman; see,
Here is the man has wonne what ye haue lost;
Stout souldiers sure, that when the Citie gates
VVere open to yee, durst not enter in.

Luc.
O Isabella, 'tis for thy sake I know
That all these miseries doe happen mee.
(Forgiue mee good Laurentio) Isabella,
At length I haue experience what it is
To loue an outside, the meere barke of woman,
And to forsake an inward vertue: but
If once I haue thee in possession more—

[Redit in scenam Loueall cum Isabella]
Loue.
Follow mee Witch, devill, strumpet, prostitute.

Isab.
Ah whither will he drag mee? oh my heart!

Loue.
What haue yee done with my dead sisters body?

Con.
Thy sisters body now has got a soule.
(O my sweet Cleopes!) most welcome brother.

Loue.
But doth she liue then?

Const.
And so happily,
As I haue call'd it impudence to wish
What I doe now enjoy.

Laur.
Whom doe I see?
My daughter Isabella?

Loue.
But is this Cleopes?

Luc.
I dare not looke upon that wronged face.

Const.
It is, and now thy sisters husband.

Cleo.
Brother,
All health, all happinesse.

Loue.
More then all to you,
Good Cleopes.—But dost thou liue, my sister?
Why wast thou dead but now?

Const.
Thou shalt heare that
Some other time.

Laur.
Seest thou that virgin?

End.
Yes, it is my sister Isabella.

Laur.
Peace.

Isab.
I am undone! my father, and my brother.
Sir, I beseech you pardon what my loue,
And younger yeeres haue trespas'd.

Laur.
Rise my daughter;
Ioy will not suffer mee for to be angry.
Seest thou that face?

Isab.
It is Endymion
My brother.—Brother, God saue you.

End.
Sister!

Lau.
Thy Brother? 'tis thy traytour that I meane,
That has undone thee and thy name.

Isab.
'Tis Lucius.

Ant.
Sir I beseech you doe not hearken to him.

Ter.
No more.

Ant.
A pox upon this honesty,
It will vndoe us all: 'tis ten to one
But that his tender Conscience will perswade him
To pay in the money for all this.

Luc.
Faire soule
Canst thou forgiue thy Lucius?

Isa.
Canst thou loue
Thy Isabella?

Luc.
Give me a man dares aske
That question? Good Laurentio let me craue
Your likeing and consent.

Lau.
Consent? to what?

Luc.
To marry this your daughter.

Lau.
Marry my daughter?
No periur'd wretch.

Isa.
Sir I beseech you grant it.
O Lucius! O happy houre!

Lau.
Thou hast her,
And with her such a portion as shall please thee.

Luc.
I will not heare of Portion, shee her selfe
Is dowry enough to mee.—O Isabella!

Pla.
What? Is the Players boy prov'd woman too?

Pan.
Father.

Hook.
I say trouble me not—the morgage.

Pan.
Sir I beseech you heare me.

Hook.
Fy, fy, fy.

Pan.
And let me haue your approbation
In this young Gentleman for my husband.

Hook:
O.

Laur.
Perhaps sir you may doubt of his estate,
But if you'le credit me, I can instruct you,
I am his Father, hee mine onely Sonne,
And (I doe thanke my starrs) our fortun's are
None of the meanest. Speake Sir, will you give
Your daughter here, without a portion?

Hook.
Without a Portion? take her what er'e thou art—
So, So, that care is past yet, this a little
Help's out with th'other losses.

Ter.
Master Hooke,
You shall not frowne, since all things here doe smile;
To morrow I will pay you halfe your mony,
So you will grant me a generall acquittance;
'Tis in my power (you know) and I may chuse
Whether I'le pay a farthing, but no more,
(There is a thing call'd conscience within me;
And) you shall have it: therefore be frolike Sir.

Hook.
Thou art an honest man. Yee are all honest, yee are all honest.

Enter Liuely having heard the other Scene.
Liu.
All this while have I
Employ'd mine eares about this businesse.
Now show thy selfe, and of what house thou com'st.
All health to this faire company—much ioy—
Much happinesse—and a young Sonne to you;
Are you at leasure for to kill me yet?
You see I'me come againe.

Nean.
Let me embrace thee
Thou instrument of all our good.

Liue.
Yes, yes,
I was a foole, knewe nothing, knewe iust nothing,
Could not divine a whit, not tell, not tell,
How this same geare would come to passe, not I;
How doe you like your Liuely now? your Liuely?

Hooke.
Wee will discourse of that within. Terpander,
Sir will it please you follow? you my Sonne,
Gentl'men y'are all my guests to night. Mee
Think's I am growne Pestilent kinde vpon the suddayne,
The Musicke too, wee will be merry, come,
Nay come, come, take me while the homours hot.

[Exeunt omnes, but Loveall and Anteros.]
Ant.
Loueall, a word: nay troupe on, let them troupe.

Lov.
The newes?

Ant.
'Faith nothing but to take my leaue,
Bid you far well.

Lov.
Why so? I pray thee stay,
You'le in I hope.

Ant.
What among such a kennell
Of women? noe, adiew.

Lou.
Nay preethee goe.

Ant.
Not for the Fay'ry Kingdome.

Wise.
Mr. Loveall,
Sweet Mr. Loveall.

Mung.
Anteros.

Ant.
How now?

Mung.

As I am a gentleman, and an elder brother, I am almost
choak'd.

Wise.

Sweet Mr. Loveall, O Mr. Loveall. 'Tis vtterly
against my complexion,

To lye here any longer.

Ant.
Death! our fooles,
Our dish of buffles: as I hope to prosper
My thoughts had lost them quite.

Lou.
I thought not of them.

Nod.
Good Mr. Loveall are the officers gone?

Ham.
Anteros, Anteros, is the coast cleare yet?

Ant.
But how shall wee dispose of them?

Lou.
Wee'd best
Barrell them vp and send them for new England.

Ant.
A pox there's fooles enow already there.
Let's pickle them for Winter Sallads.

Lou.
No,
They are not capable of Salt, man; rather
Let's get some broaken trumpet, or old drumme,
And shew them to the people from some strange
Beasts out of Affrick.

Mer.
Father, my gowne is not silke yet.

Stip.
A bots on you.

Ant.

Harke, there's another egge sprung, my sheepheard
and his faire daughter.

Wise.
Loveall, Mr. Loveall, I am of a sanguine complexion.

Ham.
Anteros.

Ant.
Now all the world! what shall wee do with them?
But stay, a word,—performe it, I'le take order
[Hee whispers with Loveall]
T'vncase vm' to your hands.—
Now quickly Nodle, all is quiet now,—
Exit Loveall.
Come Mr. William—Not a mouse is stirring—
Safe, safe, all's safe. Ha, he, he.

[They all 4 come out at the 4 corners of the stage.]
Nod.
I'ue spoyl'd my cloathes quite, would I had a brush;
How now? wee're gull'd.

Wis.
I, as I am liuing saule.—marke the end on't.

Ham.
Who haue wee here? does his ghost walke?

Nod.
Wee are all geer'd I perceiue it plaine now.

Wis.

Who's that? Mr. Mungrell? is the Scholler aliue againe?
I should haue beene very melancholy to haue beene
hang'd as I am a liuing saule.

Nod.
If I could get my rapier and a brush,
[Redit in scenam Loveall & Placenta with a cudgell.]
I'de steale away.

Pla.
Would you haue a brush? I'le brush yee yee villaines,
Nay, Mr. Loueall told me what dusty companions yee were,
And that yee wanted brushing, and how yee had
Abus'd my husband, and my daughter, ty'de them
To a tree, come one your wayes, want yee brushing?
Ye rascalls, I'le brush you, would ye be brusht!
[She beats thē forth
Come on, lets see what cover'd dish a'haue here now?
[She vnties them
Hy day! you lubberly knaue; what Madame Gillian too?

Stip.
What? is shee come now to trouble vs!
My daughter, I doe charge you on my blessing
Looke scuruily vpon her.

Mer.
Yes forsooth Father.

Stip.
Call her not Mother darling, but disclaime her,
Shee is no wife of mine, shee does conspire
Against our gentility daughter, and shee lyes;
Call her the plaine old woman, sweet-lips, doe;
Ile beare you out in't, doe as your father bids you.

Pla.
How now?

Mer.
But forsooth father, my neckercher is not turn'd into
Gold yet.

Pla.
They are both mad of a certaine.

Stip,

I am a gentleman, and I will be a gentleman, I will enclose,
and I will rayse rents—I wil be a lower-house man, and I will be—

Plac.

An old cox-combe, and you shall be beaten.

[She beats him.]
Stip.

But does this stand good in law?

Plac.

Feare not that; I'le find an old statute for it, doubt it not.
You are a gentleman? and you will be a gentleman? I'le make you
gentle enough e're I haue done with you.

Stip.

O, O, O.

Plac.

And you my sweet lips that wil not call me mother, but
looke scuruily,
Come on your wayes I haue the common law on my side too for
this.

[She beats Merda.]
Mer.

Oh mother, I'le neuer bee a gentlewoman more while I
liue, nor neuer talke of gold neckerchers, no that I won't truely.

[Shee beats Stipes againe.]
Plac.

Yes, you shall bee a Lower-house man, you shall; I'le
take you downe a Pinne, you'r too high now.

Stip.

O, O, good wife—O, O, hony wife.

Pla.

You'l in?

[Exit. Plac. & Merda.]
Stip.

Buz, peace and catch a mouse cry I.

[Enter Hammershin]
Ant.

What is my Scholler return'd? return'd pre'thee goe in Iack
Loveall, I'le change but two words with him
[Exit Love.
And follow. Well sayd, nay looke not sowerly on the matter.

Ham.

You haue abus'd mee Sir, and goe to the fence Schoole
with mee if you dare, or else wrastle a fall with me.

Ant.
Ile giue thee satisfaction my rowser
My Hit-her-better, nay put off these frownes;
What say'st thou to my sister, and the Living?
I know you haue heard the newes from out the Cabbin,
And you was once a Suitour to her; speake,
Will that content thee? come you are not the first
Has got a Parsonage with fooling Sir,
I will procure it for thee, feare it not:
Nay spare your Hatt, it will be tedious,
My thankes shall be in Oates.

Stip.
But Master Ieoffry.

Ant.
Follow Iack Loveall in.

[Exit Ham.]
Stip.
You know I was your Master to day.

Ant.
Well put the case.

Stip.
Poore, and ill parell'd.

Ant.
Put the case againe.

Stip.
But now you see how strangely altered.

Ant.
Put the case the third time.

Stip.

Are you avis'd of that? I'le n'ere trust winking beast
againe for your sake, I'le tell you but so. Did you not tell mee
that Obrum would make me a gentleman? Obrum? Obrum? if
Obrum has no better tricks then these, let Obrum keepe
his tricks to coole his porredge, 'sduds I look'd euery minute
when Obrum would haue put a greene scarlet suite vpon my
backe like your's, all to bee dawb'd with spingle spangles; and
in the meane time comes my wife with a blacke and blew home
spun of her onne making. Well that same Obrum is a sembling
cony catching knaue, and I know what I could call you too, but
for your whiniard, and your staring goggles.

Ant.
Stipes, no more, advaunce thy duller eye,
Know'st thou what all those blazing stars portend?

Sti.

I, I, by'r Lady? how now? 'sduds I thinke fourty
Obrums haue beene here, (Master Ieoffry is that Obrum that
makes gentlefolkes, a Taylor?) one Obrum could neuer haue
paynted them thus.