Cunn. Udso, shelter, shelter! If you be seen,
All's ravell'd out again: stand there private,
And you will find the very opportunity
To call you forth, and place you at the table.
Enter Gregory.

You are welcome, sir! This banquet
Will serve, when it is crown'd with such a
As you expect, and must have.

Greg. Tush, these sweetmeats

[dainty

Are but sauce to that. Well, if there be
Any honesty, or true word in a dream,
She is mine own, nay, and chang'd extremely,
Not the same woman.

Cunn. Who? not the lady?
Greg. No, not

To me; the edge of her tongue is taken off, Gives me very good words; turn'd up-side down to me;

And we live as quietly as two tortoises : • If she hold on, as she began in my dreamCunn. Nay, if love send forth such predictions, [watch-word

You are bound to believe 'em. There's the [Soft musick.

Of her coming; to your practis'd part now! If you hit it, Equus Cupido nobis.

[Both go into the gown. Greg. I'll warrant you, sir, I will give arms to Your gentry: look you forward to your busi

To place before you (know him !) this friend here;

(He is my guest) and more especially, That this our meeting might not be too single, Without a witness to't.

Mir. I came not unresolv'd, sir: And when our hands are clasp'd in that firm faith

Which I expect from you, fame shall be bold To speak the loudest on it. Oh, you grasp me Somewhat too hard, friend!

[Kisses her hand.

Cunn. That's love's eager will;
I'll touch it gentlier.
Mir. That's too low in you,
'Less it be doubly recompens'd in me.

[Kisses his hand. Pompey. Puh! I must stop my mouth; I shall be choak'd else. [delays; Cunn. Come, we'll not play and trifle with We met to join these hands, and willingly I cannot leave it until confirmation.

Mir. One word first! how does your friend,
kind sir Gregory?
[him not.
Cunn. Why do you mention him you love
Mir. I shall love you the less if you say

so, sir:

In troth, I love him; but 'tis you deceive him, This flattering hand of yours does rob him

now,

Now you steal his right from him; and I know I shall have hate for it, his hate extremely.

Cunn. Why, I thought you had not come
so weakly arm'd:

Upon my life, the knight will love you for't,
Exceedingly love you, for ever love you.
Mir. Ay, you'll persuade me so.
Cunn. Why, he's my friend,

And wishes me a fortune equal with him,
I know and dare speak it for him.
Mir. Oh, this hand betrays him!
You might remember him in some court'sy
yet at least.
[health,
Cunn. I thank your help in it; here's to his
Where-e'er he be!

Mir. I'll pledge it,

Were it against my health. Pompey. Oh, oh! my heart

[return!

Hops after twelve mile a-day, upon a good Now could I walk three hundred mile afoot, And laugh forwards and backwards.

Mir. You'll take the knight's health, sir? Pompey. Yes, yes, forsooth. Oh, my sides! Such a banquet [fortnight. Once a week, would make me grow fat in a Cunn. Well: now to close our meeting,

with the close

Of mutual hands and hearts, thus I begin: Here in Heav'n's eye, and all love's sacred pow'rs,

(Which in my prayers stand propitious) I knit this holy hand fast, and with this hand The heart that owes this hand, ever binding

Sympson.

By

By force of this initiating contract Both heart and hand in love, faith, loyalty, Estate, or what to them belongs, in all the Dues, rights, and honours of a faithful husband; [stand And this firm vow, henceforth 'till death to Irrevocable, sealed both with heart and hand! Mir. Which thus I second: but, oh, sir Gregory! [lieve me. Cunn. Again? This interposition's ill, beMir. Here, in Heav'n's eye, and all love's sacred pow'rs,

I knit this holy hand fast, and with this hand
The heart that owes this hand, ever binding
Both heart and hand in love, honour, loyalty,
Estate, or what to them belongs, in all the
Dues, rights, and duties of a true faithful wife;
And this firm vow, henceforth till death to
stand

Irrevocable, sealed both with heart and hand!
Greg. A full agreement on both parts.
Cunit. Ay, here's witness of that.
Greg. Nay, I have over-reach'd you, lady;
and that's much,

For any knight in England to over-reach a lady.
Mir. I rejoice in my deceit; I am a lady
Now, I thank you, sir.

Pompey. Good morrow, lady Fop!

Greg. 'Snails, I'm gull'd! made a worshipful ass!

That have preserv'd you from a lasting torFor a perpetual comfort. Did you call me friend?[call you, I confess.

Greg. I pray pardon me for that; I did mis-
Cunn. And should I, receiving such a
thankful name,

Abuse it in the act? Should I see my friend
Baffled, disgrac'd, without any reverence
To your title, to be call'd slave, rascal? nay,
Curs'd to your face, fool'd, scorn'd, beaten
down
[stand
With a woman's peevish hate, yet I should
And suffer you to be lost, cast away?

I would have seen you buried quick first, Your spurs of knighthood to have wanted rowels,

[rascal? Slave, [lord, my husband! Mir. My dearest love, sweet knight, my Cunn. So! this is not slave and ruscul then. Mir. What shall your eye command but shall be done,

And to be hack'd from your heels
Hear this tongue.

In all the duties of a loyal wife?

Cunn. Good, good!

ter

Are not curses fitter for you? were't not bet-
[fan+2
Your head were broke with the handle of a
Or your nose bored with a silver bodkin?
Mir. Why, I will be a servant in your lady.
Cunn. 'Pox, but you shall not!
She's too good for you! This contract
Shall be a nullity; I'll break it off,
And see you better bestow'd.

Greg. Slid, but you shall not, sir! [one
She's mine own, and I am hers, and we are
Another's lawfully, and let me see him
That will take her away by the civil law!
If you be my friend, keep you so; if you have
done me

A good turn, do not hit me i'th' teeth with't!
That's not the part of a friend.

Cunn. If you be content-
Greg. Content?

I was never in better contention in my life: I'll not change her for both the Exchanges, new or the old.

Come, kiss me boldly!

Pompey. Give you joy, sir!

Greg. Oh, sir,

I thank you as much as tho' I did! You are
Belov'd of ladies; you see we are glad
Of under-woinen.

Pompey. Ladies? Let

Not ladies be disgrac'd! You're, as it were, A married man, and have a family; And, for the party's sake that was unnam'd Before, being pease-cod time, I am appeas'd; Yet I would wish you make a ruler of your tongue. [that.

Cunn. Nay, no dissention here! I must bar And this, friend, I entreat you, and be advis'd; Let this private contract be yet conceald, And still support a seeming race of love Uuto the lady, mark how it avails you, and Quits all her scorns; her uncle is now hot In pursuit of the match, and will enforce her, Bend her proud stomach, that she shall proffer Herself to you, which when you have flouted

"syringe."

VOL. III

R.

Witty. Friend!

Cunn. Here, friend.

[Exit.

Witty. All is afoot, and will go smooth away: [are gone, The woman has conquer'd the women, they Which I have already complain'd to my father, Suggesting that sir Gregory is fall'n off From his charge, for neglects and ill usage, And that he is most violently bent On Gentry's wife (whom I have call'd a widow) And that without most sudden prevention He will be married to her.

Cunn. 'Sfoot, all this is wrong!
This wings his pursuit, and will be before me :
I'm lost for ever!

Witty. No; stay! you sha'n't go
But with my father: on my wit let it lie;
You shall appear a friendly assistant,
To help in affairs, and in execution
Help yourself only.

Cunn. 'Would ny belief

Were strong in this assurance!

Witty. You shall credit it,

[you.

And my wit shall be your slave, if it deceive

Witty. Shall I stand to tell't again? I tell you he loves,

most

But not my kinswoman; her base usage, and Your slack performance, which he accuses [down. Indeed, has turn'd the knight's heart upside Olde. I'll curb her for't: can he be but recover'd,

He shall have her, and she shall be dutiful, And love him as a wife too.

Witty. With that condition, sir,

I dare recall him were he enter'd the church, So much interest of love I assure in him.

Olde. Sir, it shall be no loss to you if you Witty. Ay, but

[do. These are words still; will not the deeds be wanting

At the recovery, if't should be again?

Olde. Why, here, fool, I am provided! five hundred

In earnest of the thousands in her do.. r.
But were they married once,

I'd cat him short enough, that's my

ment.

[you, Witty. Ay, now I perceive some purpose in Oldc. But wherefore is she then stol'n out of doors

To him?

Witty. To him? Ob, fy upon your error! She has another object, believe it, sir. Oldc. I never could perceive it.

Cunn. I did, sir; and to her shame I should speak it,

To my own sorrow I saw it, dalliance,
Nay, dotage, with a very clown, a fool.

Olde. Wit and wantonness; nothing else, nothing else:

She love a fool' she'll sooner make a fool
Of a wise man.

Cunn. Ay, my friend complains so; Sir Gregory says flatly, she makes a fool of him,

And these bold circumstances are approv'd: Favours have been sent by him, yet he, igno

rant

Whither to carry 'em, they've been understood,
And taken from him: certain, sir, there is
An unsuspected fellow lies conceal'd,
What or where-e'er he is-these slight ne-
Could not be of a knight else. [glects
Oldc. Well, sir, you have promis'd (if we
recover him

Unmarried) to salve all these old bruises?
Cunn. I'll do my best, sir.

Olde. I shall thank you costly, sir, and
kindly too.
Land come
Witty. Will you talk away the time here, sir,
Behind all your purposes?

Olde. Away, good sir!

Witty. Then stay a little, good sir, for my advice.

[gar'd? Why, father, are you broke? your wit begOr are you at your wits' end? or out of Love with wit? no trick of wit to surprise Those designs, but with open hue and cry,

For

For all the world to talk on? This is strange!
You were not wont to slubber a project so.
Olde. Can you help at a pinch now?
shew yourself

My son? Go to! I leave this to your wit,
Because I'll make a proof on't.

Witty. Tis thus then;

I have had late intelligence, they're now
Buxsom as Bacchus froes, revelling, dancing,
Telling the music's numbers with their feet,
Awaiting the meeting of premonish'd friends,
That is questionless, little dreading you:
Now, sir, with a dextrous trick indeed,
sudden

And sufficient, were well, to enter on 'em
As something like the abstract of a masque;
What tho' few persous? if best for our pur-
That c nends the project.
[pose,

Olde. his takes up time..

Witty. Not at all; I can presently furnish With loose disguises that shall fit that scene. Olde. Why, what wants then?

Witty. Nothing but charge of music; That must be paid, you know. [the music, Olde. That shall be my charge; I will pay Whate'er it cost.

Witty. And that shall be all your charge. Now on! I like it; there'fl be wit in't, father. [Exeunt Olde. and Witty.

Cunn. I will neither distrust his wit nor friendship; Yet if his master-brain should be o'erthrown, My resolution now shall seize mine own.

[Exit. Enter Niece, Lady Ruinous, Guardianess, Sir Ruinous, and Priscian (with instru ments), masqued.

L. Ruin. Nay, let's have music; let that
sweet breath at least

Give us her airy welcome! 'twill be the best
I fear this ruin'd receptacle will yield ;
But that most freely.

Niece. My welcome follows me,
Else I am ill come hither: you assure me
Still Mr. Cunningham will be here, and that

it was

Still the knight's name unto my Guardianess; She expects no other.

L. Ruin. He will, he will; assure you, Lady, sir Gregory will be here, and suddenly; This music fore-ran him: is't not so, consoris? Ruin. Yes, lady;

He stays on some device to bring along Such a labour as he was busy in, some witty device. [for wit is Niece. 'Twill be long ere he comes then, A great labour to him. [one day.

Guard. Well, well, you will agree better Niece. Scarce two, I think.

Las led me

Guard. Such a mock-beggar suit of cloaths

Into the fool's pair o' dice, with deuce ace, He that would make me mistress Cun, Cun, Cunnie,

He's quite out of my mind, but I shall ne'er Forget him while I have a hole in my head: Such a one I think would please you better, Tho' he did abuse you.

Ruin. Fy! speak well of him now, Your niece has quitted him.

[Gregory,

But, for sir

Guard. I hope she has, Else she loses me for ever. 'Would he were come; I shall ill answer this Unto your uncle else.

Niece. You know it is his pleasure

I should keep him company.

Guard. Ay, and should be your own, If you did well too. Lord, I do wonder, At the niceness of your ladies now-a-days, They inust have husbands with so much wit forsooth

Worship and wealth were both wont to be
In better request, I'm sure: I cannot tell,
But they get ne'er the wiser children that I see.
L. Ruin. La, la, la, sol! this music breathes
in vain,

Methinks 'tis dull to let it move alone;
Let's have a female motion; 'tis in private,
And we'll grace it ourselves, however it
deserves.

Niece. What say you, Guardianess?
Guard. Alas, I am

[done. Weary with the walk, my jaunting days are L. Ruin. Come, come, we'll fetch her in by course, or else

She shall pay the music.

Guard. Nay, I'll have a little for my money then. They dance, a cornet is winded. L. Ruin. Hark! upon my life, the knight! it is your friend;

This was the warning-piece o f his approach. Enter Oldcraft, Wittypate, and Cunningham, masqued, and take them to dance.

Ha! no words but mum!

Well, then we shall need no counsel-keeping." Niece. Cunningham?

Cunn. Yes; fear nothing.

Nicce. Fear? why do you tell me of it?
Cunn. Your uncle's here.

Niece. Ah me!

Cunn. Peace!

Olde. We have caught 'em.

Witty. Thank my wit, father.

Guard. Which is the knight, think you? Niece. I know not; he will be found when he speaks;

No masque can disguise his tongue.
Witty. Are you charg'd?
Olde. Are you awake?

Witty. I'm answer'd in a question.

Cunn. Next change we meet, we loose our hands no more.

Niece. Are you prepar'd to tie 'em?

Cuan, Yes.

Go with me.

S$2

You must

Guard.

Guard. Whither, sir? Not from my charge, Believe me.

Cunn. She goes along.

Niece. Will you venture, and my uncle here? Cunn. His stay's

Prepar'd for.

Guard. 'Tis the knight sure; I will follow. [Exeunt Cunn. Niece, and Guard. Olde. How now? the music tir'd before us? Ruin. Yes, sir;

We must be paid now.

Witty. Oh, that's my charge, father. Olde. But stay! where are our wanton Son, where are they? *[ladies gone? Witty. Only chang'd the room in a change; that's all, sure. [return to you. Olde. I'll make 'em all sure else, and then Ruin. You must pay for your music first, Glde. Must?

[sir.

Are there musty fidlers? are beggars chusers now?

Ha! Why, Wittypate! son! where am I?
Witty. You were

Dancing e'en now, in good measure, sir: is
Your health miscarried since? what ail you,
şir?
[Where's my niece?

Cide. Death, I may be gull'd to my face! What are you?

L. Ruin. None of your niece, sir.

Olde. How now?

Have you loud instruments too? I will hear
No more, I thank you. What have I done tro
To bring these fears about me? Son, where
am I?
[should be
Witty. Not where you should be, sir; you
Paying for your music, and you're in a maze.
Oide. Oh, is it so? Put up, put ug, I pray
Here's a crown for you.

L. Ruin. Pish, a crown?

Ruin. Pris. Ha, ha, ha! a crown?

[you;

To tell you truth, these are no ordinary Musicians; they expect a bounty above Their punctual desert.

[serts too!

Olde. A pox on your punks and their deAm I not cheated, all this while, think you? Is not your pate in this?

Witty. If you be cheated,

You're not to be indicted for your own goods; Here you trifle time, to market your bounty, And make it base, when it must needs be free, For aught I can perceive.

Olde. Will you know the lowest price, sir? Wilty. That I will, sir, with all my heart. Oldc. Unless

I was discover'd, and they now fled home Again for fear, l'in absolutely beguil'd; That's the best can be hop'd for."

Witty. Faith, 'tis somewhat too dear yet, gentlemen.

Ruin. There's not a denier to be bated, sir. Olde. Now, sir, how dear is it?

Witty. Bate but the other ten pound.

Pris. Not a bawbee, sir.

Olde. How! bate ten pound? What is the whole sum then? [much ado, Witty. Faith, sir, a hundred pound; with I got fifty bated; and, faith, father, To say truth, it is reasonable for Men of their fashion.

[la, la, la! Oide. La, la, la, down! a hundred pound? You are a consort of thieves, are you not? Witty. No; musicians, sir; I told you Olde. Fiddle faddle! [before.

Is't not a robb'ry? a plain robb'ry?
Witty. No,

No, no, by no means, fa.her; you've receiv'd
For your money, Day, and that
give back:

'Tis somewhat dear, I confess; bar
If they had been agreed with t
'Twas ill forgotten,

can't

The Olde. And how many shaics have y u 13 My force! case up your instruments. Iyield; here!

As robb'd and taken from me, I deliver it.

promise now,

Witty. No, sir, you have períorm'd your [is all. Which was, to pay the charge of music, that Olde. I've heard no music, I've receiv'd none, sir,

There none to be found in me, nor about me.
Witty. Why, sir, here's
[that
Witness 'gainst you, you have danc'd, and he
Dances acknowledges a receipt of music.

Olde. I deny that, sir: look you! I can dance without Lout it too. Music; d'you see, sir? And I can sing withYou are a consort of thieves! Do you hear what I do? [move Witty. Pray take you heed, sir, if you do The music again, it may cost you as much more! [need not Olde. Hold, hold! I'll depart quietly. I Bid you farewell, I think now, so long

As that hundred pound lasts with you.

Enter Guardianess.

IIa, ha! am I snapt i'faith?

Guard. Oh, sir Perfidious

Oldc. Ay, ay; some howling another while! Music's too damnable dear.

Sympson.

Guard.