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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-490-5

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: Thomas Dekker
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Quarto 1, 1630)

    0.01 THE
    SECOND
    PART OF THE
    HONEST WHORE,
    0.05 WITH THE HVMORS
    of the Patient Man, the Impatient
    Wife: the Hone st Whore, perswaded by
    strong Arguments to turne Curtizan
    againe: her braue refuting those
    0.10Arguments.
    And la stly, the Comicall Pa s s ages of an Italian
    Bridewell, where the Scaene ends.
    Written by THOMAS DEKKER .
    LONDON,
    0.15Printed by Elizabeth All-de, for Nathaniel Butter.
    An. Dom. 1630.
    THE
    HONEST
    WHORE.
    1 Actus primus, Scaena prima.
    Enter at one doore Beraldo, Carolo, Fontinell, A stolfo, with
    Seruingmen, or Pages attending on them; at another
    doore enter Lodouico, meeting them.
    5 Lodouico. GOod day, Gallants.
    Omnes. Good morrow, sweet
    Lodouico.
    Lodo. How doe st thou Carolo.
    Carolo. Faith, as Phy sicions doe
    10in a Plague, see the World sicke,
    and am well my selfe.
    Fontinell. Here's a sweet morning, Gentlemen.
    Lod. Oh, a morning to tempt Ioue frō his Ningle Ganimed,
    which is but to giue Dary Wenches greene gownes as
    15they are going a milking; what, is thy Lord stirring yet?
    A stolfo. Yes, he will not be hor st this houre, sure.
    Bercaldo. My Lady sweares he shall, for she longs to bee
    at Court.
    Carolo. Oh, wee shall ride switch and spurre, would we
    20were there once.
    Enter Bryan the Footeman.
    Lod. How now, is thy Lord ready?
    Bryan. No so crees sa mee, my Lady will haue some little
    Tyng in her pelly fir st.
    25 Caro. Oh, then they'le to breakefa st.
    Lod. Footman, does my Lord ride y'th Coach with my
    Lady, or on horsebacke?
    Bry. No foot la, my Lady will haue me Lord sheet wid
    her, my Lord will sheet in de one side, and my Lady sheet
    30in de toder side. Exeunt.
    Lod. My Lady sheet in de toder side: did you euer here a
    Rascall talke so like a Pagan? Is't not strange that a fellow
    of his starre, should bee seene here so long in Italy, yet
    speake so from a Chri stian?
    35 Enter Anthonio, Georgio, a poore Scholler.
    A stol. An Iri shman in Italy! that so strange! why, the na-
    tion haue running heads. Exchange Walke.
    Lod. Nay Carolo, this is more strange, I ha bin in France,
    theres few of them: Mary, England they count a warme
    40chimny corner, and there they swarme like Crickets to the
    creuice of a Brew-house; but Sir, in England I haue noted
    one thing.
    Omnes. What's that, what's that of England?
    Lod. Mary this Sir, what's he yonder?
    45 Bert. A poore fellow would speake with my Lord.
    Lod. In England, Sir, troth I euer laugh when I thinke
    on't: to see a whole Nation should be mark't i'th forehead,
    as a man may say, with one Iron: why Sir, there all Co ster-
    mongers are Iri shmen.
    50 Caro. Oh, that's to show their Antiquity, as comming
    from Eue, who was an Apple-wife, and they take after the
    Mother.
    Omnes. Good, good, ha, ha.
    Lod. Why then, should all your Chimny-sweepers like-
    55wise be Iri shmen? answer that now, come, your wit.
    Caro. Faith, that's soone answered, for S. Patricke you
    know keepes Purgatory, hee makes the fire, and his
    Country-men could doe nothing, if they cannot sweepe the
    Chimnies.
    60 Omnes. Good agen.
    Lod. Then, Sir, haue you many of them (like this fellow)
    (especially those of his haire) Footmen to Noblemen and o-
    thers, and the Knaues are very faithfull where they loue, by
    my faith very proper men many of them, and as actiue as
    65the cloudes, whirre, hah.
    Omnes. Are they so?
    Lod. And stout! exceeding stout; Why, I warrant, this
    precious wild Villaine, if hee were put to't, would fight
    more desperately then sixteene Dunkerkes.
    70 A sto. The women they say are very faire.
    Lod. No, no, our Country Bona Robaes, oh! are the su-
    gre st delicious Rogues.
    A sto. Oh, looke, he has a feeling of them.
    Lod. Not I, I prote st, there's a saying when they com-
    75mend Nations: It goes, the Iri shman for his hand, Wel sh -
    man for a leg, the Engli shman for a face, the Dutchman for
    beard.
    Fron. I faith, they may make swabbers of them.
    Lod. The Spaniard, let me see, for a little foot (I take it) the
    80Frenchman, what a pox hath he? and so of the re st.
    Are they at breakfa st yet? come walke.
    A st . This Lodouico, is a notable tounged fellow.
    Fron. Discourses well.
    Berc. And a very hone st Gentleman.
    85 A sto. Oh! hee's well valued by my Lord.
    Enter Bellafront with a Petition.
    Fron. How now, how now, what's she?
    Bert. Let's make towards her.
    Bella. Will it be long, sir, ere my Lord come forth?
    90 A st . Would you speake with my Lord?
    Lod. How now, what's this, a Nurses Bill? hath any here
    got thee with child, and now will not keepe it?
    Bolla. No sir, my bu sine s s e is vnto my Lord.
    Lod. Hee's about his owne wife now, hee'le hardly dis-
    95patch two causes in a morning.
    A sto. No matter what he saies, faire Lady, hee's a Knight,
    there's no hold to be taken at his words.
    Fro. My Lord will pa s s e this way presently.
    Bert. A pretty plumpe Rogue.
    100 A st . A good lu sty bouncing baggage.
    Bert. Doe you know her?
    Lod. A pox on her, I was sure her name was in my Table-
    booke once, I know not of what cut her dye is now, but she
    has beene more common then Tobacco: this is she that had
    105the name of the Hone st Whore.
    Omnes. Is this she?
    Lod. This is the Blackamore that by wa shing was turned
    white: this is the Birding Peece new scowred: this is shee
    that (if any of her religion can be saued) was saued by my
    110Lord Hipolito.
    A sto. She has beene a goodly creature.
    Lod. She has bin! that's the Epitaph of all Whores, I'm
    well acquainted with the poore Gentleman her Husband,
    Lord! what fortunes that man has ouerreached? She knowes
    115not me, yet I haue beene in her company, I scarce know her,
    for the beauty of her cheeke hath (like the Moone) suffred
    strange Eclipses since I beheld it: but women are like Med-
    lars (no sooner ripe but rotten.)
    A woman la st was made, but is spent fir st,
    120Yet man is oft proued, in performance wor st.
    Omnes. My Lord is come.
    Enter Hypolito, Infaeliche, and two waiting women.
    Hip. We ha wa sted halfe this morning: morrow Lodouico.
    Lod. Morrow Madam.
    125 Hip. Let's away to Horse.
    Omnes. I, I to Horse, to Horse.
    Bela. I doe beseech your Lord ship, let your eye read
    o're this wretched Paper.
    Hip. I'm in ha st, pray the good womā take some apter time.
    130 Infae . Good Woman doe.
    Bel. Oh las! it does concerne a poore mans life.
    Hip. Life! sweet heart? Seat your selfe, Il'e but read this
    and come.
    Lod. What stockings haue you put on this morning, Ma-
    135dam? if they be not yellow, change them; that paper is a
    Letter from some Wench to your Husband.
    Infae Oh sir, that cannot make me iealous. Exeunt.
    Hip. Your bu sines, sir, to me?
    Ant. Yes my good Lord.
    140 Hip. Presently sir; are you Mathaeos wife.
    Bela. That mo st vnfortunate woman.
    Hip. I'm sorry these stormes are fallē on him, I loue Mathaeo.
    And any good shall doe him, hee and I.
    Haue sealed two bonds of friend ship, which are strong
    145In me, how euer Fortune does him wrong;
    He speakes here hee's condemned. Is't so?
    Bel. Too true.
    Hip. What was he whom he killed? Oh, his name's here;
    old Iacomo, sonne to the Florentine Iacomo, a dog, that to
    150meet profit, would to the very eyelids wade in blood of his
    owne children. Tell Mathaeo, the Duke my father hardly
    shall deny his signed pardon, 'twas faire fight, yes if rumors
    tongue goe true, so writes he here.
    To morrow morning I returne from Court,
    155Pray be you here then. Ile haue done sir straight:
    But in troth say, are you Mathaeos wife?
    You haue forgot me.
    Bel. No, my Lord.
    Hip. Your Turner,
    160That made you smooth to run an euen byas,
    You know I loued you when your very soule
    Was full of discord: art not a good wench still?
    Bel. Vmph, whē I had lo st my way to heauen, you shewed it:
    I was new borne that day. Enter Lodouico.
    165 Lod. S'foot, my Lord, your Lady askes if you haue not left
    your Wench yet? When you get in once, you neuer haue
    done: come, come, come, pay your old score, and send her
    packing, come.
    Hip. Ride softly on before, Ile oretake you.
    170 Lod. Your Lady sweares she'll haue no riding on before,
    without ye.
    Hip. Prethee good Lodonico.
    Lod. My Lord pray ha sten.
    Hip. I come: to morrow let me see you, fare you well:
    175commend me to Mathaeo: pray one word more: Does not
    your father liue about the Court?
    Bel. I thinke he does, but such rude spots of shame
    Stick on my cheeke, that he scarce knowes my name.
    Hip. Orlando Friscabaldo, Is't not?
    180 Bel. Yes my Lord.
    Hip. What does he for you?
    Bel. All he should: when Children
    From duty start, Parents from loue may swarue.
    He nothing does: for nothing I deserue.
    185 Hip. Shall I ioyne him vnto you, and re store you
    to wonted grace?
    Bel. It is impo s sible. Exit Bellaf.
    Hip. It shall be put to tryall: fare you well:
    The face I would not looke on I sure then 'twas rare,
    190When in despight of griefe, 'tis still thus faire.
    Now, sir, your bu sine s s e with me.
    Ant. I am bold to expre s s e my loue and duty to your
    Lord ship in these few leaues.
    Hip. A Booke!
    195 Ant. Yes my good Lord.
    Hip. Are you a Scholler?
    Ant. Yes, my Lord, a poore one.
    Hip. Sir, you honor me.
    Kings may be Schollers Patrons, but faith tell me,
    200To how many hands be sides hath this bird flowne,
    How many partners share with me?
    An. Not one in troth, not one: your name I held more deare,
    I'm not (my Lord) of that low Character.
    Hip. Your name I pray?
    205 Ant. Antonio Georgio.
    Hip. Of Millan?
    Ant. Yes my Lord.
    Hip. Ile borrow leaue
    To read you o're, and then we'll talke: till then
    210Drinke vp this gold, good wits should loue good wine,
    This of your loues, the earne st that of mine.
    How now, sir, where's your Lady, not gone yet?
    Enter Bryan.
    Bryan. I fart di Lady is runne away from dee, a mighty
    215deale of ground, she sent me backe for dine owne sweet
    face, I pray dee come my Lord away, wut tow goe now?
    Hip. Is the Coach gone?
    Saddle my Horse the sorrell.
    Bryan. A pox a de Horses nose, he is a lowsy rascally
    220fellow, when I came to gird his belly, his scuruy guts rum-
    bled, di Horse farted in my face, and dow knowe st, an Iri sh -
    man cannot abide a fart, but I haue saddled de Hobby-horse,
    di fine Hobby is ready, I pray dee my good sweet Lord, wit
    tow goe now, and I will runne to de Deuill before dee?
    225 Hip. Well, sir, I pray lets see you Ma ster Scholler.
    Bry. Come I pray dee, wut come sweet face? Goe. Exeunt.
    Enter Lodouico, Carolo, A stolpho, Bercaldo.
    Lod. Gods so, Gentlemen, what doe we forget?
    Omnes. What?
    230 Lod. Are not we all enioyned as this day, Thursday is't
    not? I as that day to be at the Linnen-drapers house at din-
    ner?
    Car. Signior Candido, the patient man.
    A sto. Afore Ioue, true, vpon this day hee's married.
    235 Berc. I wonder, that being so stung with a Waspe be-
    fore, he dares venture againe to come about the eaues a-
    mong st Bees.
    Lod. Oh 'tis rare sucking a sweet Hony-combe; pray
    Heauen his old wife be buried deepe enough, that she rise
    240not vp to call for her daunce, the poore Fidlers In struments
    would cracke for it, shee'd tickle them: at any hand lets try
    what mettle is in his new Bride, if there be none, we'll put
    in some; troth it's a very noble Citizen, I pitty he should
    marry againe, Ile walke along, for it is a good old fellow.
    245 Caro. I warrant, the Wiues of Millan would giue any
    fellow twenty thousand Duckets, that could but haue the
    face to beg of the Duke, that all the Citizens in Millan
    might be bound to the peace of patience, as the Linnen-
    draper is.
    250 Lod. Oh fy vpon't, 'twould vndoe all vs that are Courti-
    ers, we should haue no whoe with the wenches then.
    Enter Hipollito.
    Omnes. My Lord's come.
    Hip. How now, what newes?
    255 Omnes. None.
    Lod. Your Lady is with the Duke her Father.
    Hip. And we'll to them both presently, whoe's that?
    Enter Orlaudo Friscobaldo.
    Omnes. Signior Friscabaldo.
    260 Hip. Friscabaldo, oh! pray call him, and leaue me, wee
    two haue bu sine s s e.
    Car. Ho Signior! Signior Friscabaldo.
    The Lord Hipollito. Exeunt.
    Orla. My Noble Lord: my Lord Hipollito! the Dukes
    265Sonne! his braue Daughters braue Husband! how does
    your honord Lord ship! does your Nobility remember so
    poore a Gentleman as Signior Orlando Friscabaldo! old mad
    Orlando!
    Hip. Oh sir, our friēds! they ought to be vnto vs as our Iew-
    270els, as dearely valued, being locked vp, & vnseene, as when
    we weare them in our hands. I see, Friscabaldo, age hath not command of your blood, for all Times sickle has gone ouer
    you, you are Orlando still.
    Orl, Why my Lord, are not the fields mowen and cut
    275downe, and stript bare, and yet weare they not pide coates
    againe? tho my head be like a Leeke, white: may not my
    heart be like the blade, greene?
    Hip. Scarce can I read the Stories on your brow,
    Which age hath writ there, you looke youthfull still.
    280 Orla. I eate Snakes, my Lord, I eate Snakes.
    My heart shall neuer haue a wrinkle in it, so long as I can cry
    Hem with a cleare voice.
    Hip. You are the happier man, sir.
    Orla. Happy man! Ile giue you (my Lord) the true picture
    285of a happy man; I was turning leaues ouer this morning,
    and found it, an excellent Italian Painter drew it, If I haue
    it in the right colours, Ile be stow it on your Lord ship.
    Hip. I stay for it.
    Orla. He that makes gold his wife, but not his whore,
    290He that at noone-day walkes by a prison doore,
    He that 'ith Sunne is neither beame nor moate,
    He that's not mad after a Petticoate,
    He for whom poore mens curses dig no graue,
    He that is neither Lords nor Lawyers slaue,
    295He that makes This his Sea, and That his Shore,
    He that in's Coffin is richer then before,
    He that counts Youth his Sword, and Age his Staffe,
    He whose right hand carues his owne Epitaph,
    He that vpon his death-bead is a Swan,
    300And Dead, no Crow, he is a happy man.
    Hip. It's very well, I thanke you for this Picture.
    Orla. After this Picture (my Lord) doe I striue to haue
    my face drawne:
    For I am not couetous,
    305Am not in debt,
    Sit neither at the Dukes side,
    Nor lie at his feete.
    Wenching and I haue done, no man I wrong,
    No man I feare, no man I fee;
    310I take heed how farre I walke, because I know yonders my
    home.
    I would not die like a rich man, to carry nothing away saue
    a winding sheete:
    But like a good man, to leaue Orlando behind me.
    315I sowed leaues in my Youth, and I reape now Bookes in
    my Age.
    I fill this hand, and empty this, and when the bell shall toll
    for me, if I proue a Swan & go singing to my ne st, why so?
    If a Crow! throw me out for carrion, & pick out mine eyes,
    320May not old Friscabaldo (my Lord) be merry now! ha?
    Hip. You may, would I were partner in your mirth.
    Orla. I haue a little,
    Haue all things;
    I haue nothing; I haue no wife, I haue no child, haue no
    325 chick, and why should not I be in my Iocundare?
    Hip. Is your wife then departed?
    Orla. She's an old dweller in those high Countries,
    Yet not from me,
    Here, she's here: but before me, when a Knaue and a Queane
    330are married, they commonly walke like Serieants together:
    but a good couple are seldome parted.
    Hip. You had a Daughter too sir, had you not?
    Orla. Oh my Lord! this old Tree had one Branch, (and
    but one Branch growing out of it) It was young, it was
    335faire, it was straight; I prumde it daily, dre st it carefully,
    kept it from the winde, help'd it to the Sunne, yet for all
    my skill in planting, it grew crooked, it bore Crabs; I
    hewed it downe,
    What's become of it, I neither know, nor care.
    340 Hip. Then can I tell you whats become of it;
    That Branch is witherd.
    Orl. So 'twas long agoe.
    Hip. Her name I thinke was Bellafront, she's dead.
    Orlando. Ha? dead?
    345 Hip. Yes, what of her was left, not worth the keeping,
    Euen in my sight was throwne into a Graue.
    Orl. Dead! my la st and be st peace goe with her, I see
    deaths a good trencherman, he can eat course homely meat,
    as well as the daintie st.
    350 Hip. Why, Friscabaldo, was she homely?
    Orla. O my Lord! a Strumpet is one of the Deuils Vines;
    all the sinnes like so many Poles are stucke vpright out of
    hell, to be her props, that she may spread vpon them. And
    when she's ripe, euery Slaue has a pull at her, then mu st she
    355be pre st. The yong beautifull Grape sets the teeth of Lu st
    on edge, yet to ta ste that lickri sh Wine, is to drinke a mans
    owne damnation. Is she dead?
    Hip. Shee's turned to earth.
    Orla. Wod she were turn'd to heauen; Vmh, is she dead!
    360I am glad the world has lo st one of his Idols; no Whore-
    monger will at midnight beat at the doores; In her graue
    sleepe all my shame, and her owne; and all my sorrowes,
    and all her sinnes.
    Hip. I'm glad you are wax, not marble; you are made
    365Of mans be st temper, there are now good hopes
    That all these heapes of
    Ice about your heart,
    By which a fathers loue was frozen vp,
    Are thawed in these sweet showres fetcht from your eyes,
    370We are ne'r like Angels till our pa s sion dyes,
    She is not dead, but liues vnder worse fate,
    I thinke she's poore, and more to clip her wings,
    Her Husband at this houre lies in the Iayle,
    For killing of a man, to saue his blood,
    375Ioyne all your force with mine: mine shall be showne,
    The getting of his life preserues your owne.
    Orla. In my daughter you will say! does she liue then?
    I am sorry I wa sted teares vpon a Harlot, but the be st is I
    haue a handkercher to drinke them vp, sope can wa sh them
    380all out agen.
    Is she poore?
    Hip. Tru st me, I thinke she is.
    Orla. Then she's a right Strumpet; I ne'r knew any of
    their trade rich two yeeres together; Siues can hold no
    385water, nor Harlots hoord vp money; they haue many vents,
    too many sluces to let it out; Tauernes, Taylors, Bawds,
    Panders, Fidlers, Swaggerers, Fooles and Knaues, doe all
    waite vpon a common Harlots trencher: she is the Gally-
    pot to which these Drones flye: not for loue to the pot, but
    390for the sweet sucket within it, her money, her money.
    Hip. I almo st dare pawne my word, her bosome giues
    warmth to no such Snakes; when did you see her?
    Orla. Not seuenteene Summers.
    Hip. Is your hate so old?
    395 Orla. Older; it has a white head, and shall neuer dye till
    she be buried,
    Her wrongs shall be my bedfellow.
    Hip. Worke yet his life, since in it liues her fame.
    Orla. No, let him hang, and halfe her infamy departs out
    400of the world: I hate him for her; he taught her fir st to ta ste poyson; I hate her for her selfe, because she refused my Phy sicke.
    Hip. Nay but Friscabaldo.
    Orl. I dete st her, I defie both, she's not mine, she's.
    405 Hip. Heare her but speake.
    Orl. I loue no Maremaides, Ile not be caught with a quaill
    pipe.
    Hip. Y'are now beyond all reason.
    Orl. I am then a Bea st. Sir, I had rather be a bea st, and not
    410di shonor my creation, then be a doting father, & like Time,
    be the de struction of mine owne broode.
    Hip. Is't dotage to relieue your child being poore?
    Orl. Is't fit for an old man to keepe a whore?
    Hip. 'Tis charity too.
    415 Orl. 'Tis foolery; releeue her!
    Were her cold limbes stretcht out vpon a Beere,
    I would not sell this durt vnder my nailes
    To buy her an houres breath, nor giue this haire,
    Vnle s s e it were to choke her.
    420 Hip. Fare you well, for Ile trouble you no more. Exit.
    Orl. And fare you well sir, goe thy waies, we haue few
    Lords of thy making, that loue wenches for their hone sty;
    Las my Girle! art thou poore? pouerty dwells next doore
    to despaire, there's but a wall betweene them; despaire is
    425one of hells Catch-poles; and le st that Deuill arre st her, Ile
    to her, yet she shall not know me; she shall drinke of my
    wealth, as beggers doe of running water, freely, yet neuer
    know from what Fountaines head it flowes. Shall a silly
    bird picke her owne bre st to nouri sh her yong ones, and
    430can a father see his child starue? That were hard; The Peli-
    can does it, and shall not I. Yes, I will victuall the Campe
    for her, but it shall be by some stratagem; that knaue there
    her husband will be hanged I feare, Ile keepe his necke out
    of the nooze if I can, he shall not know how.
    435 Enter two Seruing-men.
    Orl. How now knaues, whither wander you?
    1. To seeke your Wor ship.
    Orl. Stay, which of you has my purse, what money
    haue you about you?
    440 2. Some fifteene or sixteene pounds, sir.
    Orl. Giue it me, I thinke I haue some gold about me; yes,
    it's well; leaue my Lodging at Court, and get you home.
    Come sir, tho I neuer turned any man out of doores, yet Ile
    be so bold as to pull your Coate ouer your eares.
    445 1. What doe you meane to doe sir?
    Orl. Hold thy tongue knaue, take thou my Cloake, I hope I
    play not the paltry Merchant in this bartring; bid the
    Steward of my house, sleepe with open eyes in my absence,
    and to looke to all things, whatsoeuer I command by Letters
    450to be done by you, see it done. So, does it sit well?
    2. As if it were made for your Wor ship.
    Orl. You proud Varlets, you need not bee a shamed to
    weare blue, when your Ma ster is one of your fellowes; away,
    doe not see me.
    455 Both. This is excellent. Exeunt.
    Orl. I should put on a worse suite too; perhaps I will.
    My Vizard is on, now to this maske. Say I should shaue off
    this Honor of an old man, or tye it vp shorter; Well, I will
    spoyle a good face for once. My beard being off, how should
    460I looke? euen like
    A Winter Cuckoo, or vnfeatherd Owle;
    Yet better lose this haire, then lose her soule. Exit.
    Enter Candido, Lodouico, and Carolo. Lodouico other
    Gue sts, and Bride with Prentises.
    465 Cand. O Gentlemen, so late, y'are very welcome, pray
    sit downe.
    Lod. Carolo, did' st ere see such a ne st of Caps?
    A sto. Me thinkes
    It's a mo st ciuill and mo st comely sight.
    470 Lod. What does he 'ith middle looke like?
    A sto. Troth like a spire steeple in a Country Village
    ouerpeering so many thatcht houses.
    Lod. It's rather a long pike staffe again st so many buck-
    lers without pikes; they sit for all the world like a paire of
    475Organs, and hee's the tall great roaring pipe'ith midde st.
    A sto. Ha, ha, ha, ha.
    Cand. What's that you laugh at, Signiors?
    Lod. Troth shall I tell you, and aloude Ile tell it,
    We laugh to see (yet laugh we not in scorne)
    480Among st so many Caps that long Hat worne.
    Lodo. Mine is as tall a felt as any is this day in Millan, and
    therefore I loue it, for the blocke was cleft out for my head,
    and fits me to a haire.
    Cand. Indeed you are good obseruers, it shewes strange.
    485But Gentlemen, I pray neither contemne,
    Nor yet deride a ciuill ornament;
    I could build so much in the round Caps praise,
    That loue this hye roofe, I this flat would raise.
    Lod. Prethee sweet Bridegrome doo't.
    490 Cand. So all these gue sts will pardon me, Ile doo't.
    Omnes. With all our hearts.
    Cand. Thus then in the Caps honor,
    To euery Sex and state, both Nature, Time,
    The Countries lawes, yea and the very Clime
    495Doe allot di stinct habits, the spruce Courtier
    Iets vp and downe in silke: the Warrier
    Marches in buffe, the Clowne plods on in gray:
    But for these vpper garments thus I say,
    The Sea-man has his Cap, par'd without brim,
    500The Gallants head is featherd, that fits him;
    The Soldier has his Murren, women ha Tires;
    Bea sts haue their head-peeces, and men ha theirs.
    Lod. Proceed.
    Cand. Each degree has his fa shion, it's fit then,
    505One should be laid by for the Citizen,
    And that's the Cap which you see swels not hye,
    For Caps are Emblems of humility;
    It is a Citizens badge, and fir st was worne
    By'th Romanes; for when any Bondmans turne
    510Came to be made a Freeman: thus 'twas said,
    He to the Cap was call'd; that is, was made
    Of Rome a Freeman, but was fir st close shorne,
    And so a Citizens haire is still short worne.
    Lod. That close shauing made Barbers a Company,
    515And now euery Citizen vses it.
    Cand. Of Geometricke figures the mo st rare,
    And perfect' st are the Circle and the square,
    The Citty and the Schoole much build vpon
    These figures, for both loue proportion.
    520The City Cap is round, the Schollers square.
    To shew that Gouernment and learning are
    The perfect' st limbes i'th body of a State:
    For without them, all's disproportionate.
    If the Cap had no honor, this might reare it,
    525The Reuerend Fathers of the Law doe weare it.
    It's light for Summer, and in cold it sits
    Close to the scull, a warme house for the wits;
    It shewes the whole face boldly, 'tis not made
    As if a man to looke on't were afraide,
    530Nor like a Drapers shop with broad darke shed,
    For hee's no Citizen that hides his head.
    Flat Caps as proper are to Citty Gownes,
    As to Armors Helmets, or to Kings their Crownes.
    Let then the City Cap by none be scornd,
    535Since with it Princes heads haue beene adornd.
    If more the round Caps honor you would know,
    How would this long Gowne with this steeple show?
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha: mo st vile, mo st vgly.
    Cand. Pray Signior pardon me, 'twas done in ie st.
    540 Bride. A cup of claret wine there.
    1. Wine: yes forsooth, wine for the Bride.
    Car. You ha well set out the Cap, sir.
    Lod. Nay, that's flat.
    Long. A health.
    545 Lod. Since his Cap's round, that
    } The Bride hits
    the Prentice on
    the lips.
    Shall goe round. Be bare,
    For in the Caps praise all of you haue share.
    Lod. The Bride's at cuffes.
    Cand. Oh, peace I pray thee, thus far off I stand, I spied the
    550error of my seruants, she call'd for Claret, and you fill'd out Sacke; that cup giue me, 'tis for an old mans backe, and
    not for hers. Indeed 'twas but mi staken, aske all these
    else.
    Omnes. No faith, 'twas but mi staken.
    555 1. Nay, she tooke it right enough.
    Cand. Good Luke reach her that gla s s e of Claret.
    Here, Mi stris Bride, pledge me there.
    Bride. Now Ile none. Exit Bride.
    Cand. How now?
    560 Lod. Looke what your Mi stris ayles.
    1. Nothing, sir, but about filling a wrong gla s s e, a scuruy
    tricke.
    Cand. I pray you hold your tongue, my seruant there tells
    me she is not well.
    565 Omnes. Step to her, step to her.
    Lod. A word with you: doe ye heare? This wench (your
    new wife) will take you downe in your wedding shooes,
    vnle s s e you hang her vp in her wedding garters.
    Cand. How, hang her in her garters?
    570 Lod. Will you be a rame Pidgeon still? shall your backe
    be like a Tortoys shell, to let Carts goe ouer it, yet not to
    breake? This Shee-cat will haue more liues then your la st
    Pu s s e had, and will scratch worse, and mouze you worse:
    looke toot.
    575 Cand. What would you haue me doe, sir?
    Lod. What would I haue you doe? Sweare, swagger,
    brawle, fling; for fighting it's no matter, we ha had knocking
    Pu s s es enow already; you know, that a woman was made of
    the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The Morall of
    580which is, that a man mu st from his beginning be crooked
    to his wife; be you like an Orāge to her, let her cut you neuer
    so faire, be you sowre as vineger; will you be ruled by me?
    Cand. In any thing that's ciuill, hone st, and iu st.
    Lod. Haue you euer a Prentices suite will fit me?
    585 Cand. I haue the very same which my selfe wore.
    Lod. Ile send my man for't within this halfe houre, and
    within this two houres Ile be your Prentice: the Hen shall
    not ouercrow the Cocke, Ile sharpen your spurres.
    Cand. It will be but some ie st, sir.
    590 Lod. Onely a ie st: farewell, come Carolo. Exeunt.
    Omnes. Wee'll take our leaues, Sir, too.
    Cand. Pray conceite not ill of my wiues sodaine ri sing.
    This young Knight, Sir Lodouico, is deepe seene in Phi sicke,
    and he tells me, the disease call'd the Mother, hangs on my
    595wife, it is a vehement heauing and beating of the Stomacke,
    and that swelling did with the paine thereof crampe vp her
    arme, that hit his lips, and brake the gla s s e: no harme, it was
    no harme.
    Omnes. No, Signior, none at all.
    600 Cand. The straighte st arrow may flye wide by chance.
    But come, we'll cloze this brawle vp in some dance. Exeunt.
    Enter Bellafront and Matheo.
    Bell. Oh my sweet Husband, wert thou in thy graue, and
    art aliue agen? O welcome, welcome.
    605 Mat. Doe st know me? my cloake prethee lay't vp. Yes
    faith, my winding sheete was taken out of Lauender, to be
    stucke with Rosemary, I lackt but the knot here, or here;
    yet if I had had it, I should ha made a wry mou h at the
    world like a Playse: but sweete st villaine, I am here now, and
    610I will talke with thee soone.
    Bel. And glad am I th'art here.
    Mat. Did these heeles caper in shackles? A my little
    plumpe rogue, Ile beare vp for all this, and flye hye. Catzo
    Catzo.
    615 Bel. Matheo?
    Mat. What saye st, what saye st? Oh braue fre sh ayre, a pox
    on these Grates and gingling of Keyes, and rattling of Iron,
    Ile beare vp, Ile flye hye wench, hang To s s e.
    Bel. Matheo, prethee make thy prison thy gla s s e,
    620And in it view the wrinkles, and the scarres,
    By which thou wert disfigured, viewing them, mend them.
    Mat. Ile goe vi sit all the mad rogues now, and the good
    roaring boyes.
    Bel. Thou doe st not heare me?
    625 Mat. Yes faith doe I.
    Bel. Thou ha st beene in the hands of misery, and tane strong
    Phy sicke, prethee now be sound.
    Mat. Yes. S'foot, I wonder how the in side of a Tauerne
    lookes now. Oh when shall I bizle, bizle?
    630 Bel. Nay see, th'art thir sty still for poyson, come, I will
    not haue thee swagger.
    Mat. Hone st Apes face.
    Bel. 'Tis that sharpned an axe to cut thy throate.
    Good Loue, I would not haue thee sell thy sub stance
    635And time (worth all) in those damned shops of Hell;
    Those Dycing houses, that stand neuer well,
    But when they stand mo st ill, that foure-squared sinne
    Has almo st lodg'd vs in the beggers Inne.
    Be sides (to speake which euen my soule does grieue)
    640A sort of Rauens haue hung vpon thy sleeue,
    And fed vpon thee: good Mat. (if you please) so base as
    Scorne to spread wing among st these;
    By them thy fame is speckled, yet it showes
    Cleare among st them; so Crowes are faire with Crowes.
    645Cu stome in sinne, giues sinne a louely dye.
    Blackne s s e in Mores is no deformity.
    Mat. Bellafront, Bellafront, I prote st to thee, I sweare, as I
    hope my soule, I will turne ouer a new leafe, the prison I confe s s e has bit me, the be st man that sayles in such a Ship, 650may be lowsy.
    Bel. One knockes at doore.
    Mat. Ile be the Porter: they shall see, a Iayle cannot hold
    a braue spirit, Ile flye hye. Exit.
    Bel. How wilde is his behauiour! oh, I feare
    655He's spoyld by prison, he's halfe damned comes there,
    But I mu st sit all stormes: when a full sayle his
    Fortunes spred, he loued me: being now poore,
    Ile beg for him, and no wife can doe more.
    Enter Matheo, and Orlando like a Seruingman.
    660 Mat. Come in pray, would you speake with me, sir?
    Orl. Is your name Signior Matheo?
    Mat. My name is Signior Matheo.
    Orl. Is this Gentlewoman your wife, sir?
    Mat. This Gentlewoman is my wife, sir.
    665 Orl. The De stinies spin a strong and euen thread of both
    your loues: the Mothers owne face, I ha not forgot that, I'm
    an old man, sir, & am troubled with a whoreson salt rhewme,
    that I cannot hold my water. Gentlewoman, the la st man I
    serued was your Father.
    670 Bel. My Father? any tongue that sounds his name,
    Speakes Mu sicke to me: welcome good old man.
    How does my father? liues he? has he health?
    How does my father? I so much doe shame him,
    So much doe wound him, that I scarce dare name him.
    675 Orl. I can speake no more.
    Mat. How now old Lad, what doe st cry?
    Orl The rhewme still, sir, nothing else; I should be well
    seasond, for mine eyes lye in brine: looke you, sir, I haue a suite to you.
    680 Math. What is't my little white pate?
    Orl. Troth, sir, I haue a mind to serue your Wor ship.
    Mat. To serue me? Troth, my friend, my fortunes are, as
    a man may say----
    Orl. Nay looke you, sir, I know when all sinnes are old
    685in vs, and goe vpon Crutches, that Couetousne s s e does but
    then lie in her Cradle; 'Tis not so with me. Letchery loues
    to dwell in the faire st lodging, and Couetousne s s e in the olde st buildings, that are ready to fall: but my white head,
    sir, is no Inne for such a go s sip. If a Seruingman at my yeeres
    690be not stored with bisket enough, that has sayled about the
    world to serue him the voyage out of his life, and to bring
    him Ea st-home; Ill pitty but all his daies should be fa sting daies: I care not so much for wages, for I haue scraped a
    handfull of gold together; I haue a little money, sir, which
    695I would put into your Wor ships hands, not so much to
    make it more.
    Mat. No, no, you say well, thou saye st well; but I mu st
    tell you: How much is the money, saye st thou?
    Orl. About twenty pound, Sir.
    700 Mat. Twenty pound? Let me see: that shall bring thee in,
    after ten per centum, per annum.
    Orl. No, no, no, sir, no; I cannot abide to haue money in-
    gender: fye vpon this siluer Lechery, fye; if I may haue
    meat to my mouth, and rags to my backe, and a flock-bed
    705to snort vpon, when I die, the longer liuer take all.
    Mat. A good old Boy, yfaith, if thou serue st me, thou shalt
    eat as I eat, drinke as I drinke, lye as I lye, and ride as I ride.
    Orl. That's if you haue money to hire horses.
    Mat. Front. What doe st thou thinke on't? This good old
    710Lad here shall serue me.
    Bel. Alas, Matheo, wilt thou load a backe
    That is already broke?
    Mat. Peace, pox on you, peace, there's a tricke in't, I
    flye hye, it shall be so, Front. as I tell you: giue me thy hand,
    715thou shalt serue me yfaith: welcome: as for your money--
    Orl. Nay, looke you sir, I haue it here.
    Mat. Pe sh, keepe it thy selfe, man, and then th'art sure 'tis
    safe.
    Orl. Safe! and 'twere ten thousand Duckets, your Wor ship
    720 should be my ca sh-keeper; I haue heard what your Wor-
    ship is, an excellent dunghill Cocke, to scatter all abroad:
    but Ile venture twenty pounds on's head.
    Mat. And did' st thou serue my Wor shipfull Father-in-
    law, Signior Orlando Friscabaldo, that mad man once?
    725 Orl. I serued him so long, till he turned me out of doores.
    Mat. It's a notable Chuffe, I ha not seene him many a day.
    Orl. No matter and you ne'r see him: it's an arrant Gran-
    dy, a Churle, and as damnd a cut-throat.
    Bel. Thou villaine, curb thy tongue, thou art a Iudas,
    730To sell thy Ma sters name to slander thus.
    Mat. Away A s s e, he speakes but truth, thy father is a--
    Bel. Gentleman.
    Mat. And an old knaue, there's more deceit in him then
    in sixteene Poticaries: it's a Deuill, thou mai st beg, starue,
    735hang, damne; does he send thee so much as a cheese?
    Orl. Or so much as a Gammon of Bacon,
    Hee'll giue it his Dogs fir st.
    Mat. A Iayle, a Iayle.
    Orl. A Iew, a Iew, sir.
    740 Mat. A Dog.
    Orl. An Engli sh Ma stiffe, sir.
    Mat. Pox rot out his old stinking garbage.
    Bel. Art not a shamed to strike an absent man thus?
    Art not a shamed to let this vild Dog barke,
    745And bite my Father thus? Ile not indure it;
    Out of my doores, base slaue.
    Mat. Your dores! a vengeance? I shall liue to cut that old
    rogues throat, for all you take his part thus.
    Orl. He shall liue to see thee hangd fir st.
    750 Enter Hipollito.
    Mat. Gods so my Lord, your Lord ship is mo st welcome,
    I'm proud of this, my Lord.
    Hip. Was bold to see you.
    Is that your wife?
    755 Mat. Yes sir.
    Hip. Ile borrow her lip.
    Mat. With all my heart, my Lord.
    Orl. Who's this, I pray sir?
    Mat. My Lord Hipollito: what's thy name?
    760 Orl. Pacheco.
    Mat. Pacheco, fine name; Thou see st, Pacheco, I keepe
    company with no Scondrels, nor base fellowes.
    Hip. Came not my Footman to you?
    Bel. Yes my Lord.
    765 Hip. I sent by him a Diamond and a Letter,
    Did you receiue them?
    Bel. Yes my Lord, I did.
    Hip. Read you the letter?
    Bel. O're and o're 'tis read.
    770 Hip. And faith your answer?
    Bel. Now the time's not fit,
    You see, my Husbands here.
    Hip. Ile now then leaue you,
    And choose mine houre; but ere I part away,
    775Harke, you remember I mu st haue no nay.
    Matheo, I will leaue you.
    Mat. A gla s s e of wine.
    Hip. Not now, Ile vi sit you at other times.
    Y'are come off well then?
    780 Mat. Excellent well, I thanke your Lord ship: I owe you
    my life, my Lord; and will pay my be st blood in any seruice
    of yours.
    Hip. Ile take no such deare payment, harke you Matheo,
    I know, the prison is a gulfe, if money runne low with you,
    785my purse is yours: call for it.
    Mat. Faith my Lord, I thanke my starres, they send me
    downe some; I cannot sinke, so long as these bladders hold.
    Hip. I will not see your fortunes ebbe, pray try.
    To starue in full barnes were fond mode sty.
    790 Mat. Open the doore, sirra.
    Hip. Drinke this, and anon I pray thee giue thy Mi stris
    this. Exit.
    Orl. O Noble Spirit, if no worse gue sts here dwell,
    My blue coate sits on my old shoulders well.
    795 Mat. The onely royall fellow, he's bounteous as the Indies,
    what's that he said to thee, Bellafront?
    Bel. Nothing.
    Mat. I prethee good Girle?
    Bel. Why I tell you nothing.
    800 Mat. Nothing? it's well: trickes, that I mu st be behol-
    den to a scald hot-liuerd goti sh Gallant, to stand with my
    cap in my hand, and vaile bonnet, when I ha spred as lofty
    sayles as himselfe, wud I had beene hanged. Nothing? Pa-
    checo, bru sh my cloake.
    805 Orl. Where is't, sir?
    Mat. Come, wee'll flye hye.
    Nothing? there is a whore still in thine eye. Exit.
    Orl. My twenty pounds flyes high, O wretched woman,
    This varlot's able to make Lucrece common.
    810How now Mi stris? has my Ma ster dyed you into this sad
    colour?
    Bel. Fellow, be gone I pray thee; if thy tongue itch after
    talke so much, seeke out thy Ma ster, th'art a fit in strument
    for him.
    815 Orl. Zownes, I hope he will not play vpon me?
    Bel. Play on thee? no, you two will flye together,
    Because you are rouing arrowes of one feather.
    Would thou would st leaue my house, thou ne'r shalt
    Please, me weaue thy nets ne'r so hye,
    820Thou shalt be but a spider in mine eye.
    Th'art ranke with poyson, poyson temperd well,
    Is food for health; but thy blacke tongue doth swell
    With venome, to hurt him that gaue thee bread,
    To wrong men absent, is to spurne the dead.
    825And so did' st thou thy Ma ster, and my Father.
    Orl. You haue small reason to take his part; for I haue
    heard him say fiue hundred times, you were as arrant a
    whore as euer stiffned tiffany neckcloathes in water- starch
    vpon a Saturday 'ith afternoone.
    830 Bel. Let him say worse, when for the earths offence
    Hot vengeance through the marble cloudes is driuen,
    Is't fit earth shoot agen those darts at heauen?
    Orl. And so if your Father call you whore, you'll not call
    him old knaue: Friscabaldo, she carries thy mind vp and
    835downe; she's thine owne fle sh, blood, and bone; troth Mi-
    stris, to tell you true, the fireworkes that ran from me vpon
    lines again st my good old Ma ster, your father, were but to
    try how my young Ma ster, your Husband loued such squibs:
    but it's well knowne, I loue your father as my selfe; Ile ride
    840for him at mid-night, runne for you by Owle-light; Ile dye
    for him, drudge for you; Ile flye low, and Ile flye hye (as
    my Ma ster saies) to doe you good, if you'll forgiue me.
    Bel. I am not made of marble: I forgiue thee.
    Orl. Nay, if you were made of marble, a good Stone-
    845cutter might cut you: I hope the twenty pound I deliuered
    to my Ma ster, is in a sure hand.
    Bel. In a sure hand I warrant thee for spending.
    Orl. I see my yong Ma ster is a madcap, and a bonus socius,
    I loue him well, Mi stris: yet as well as I loue him, Ile not
    850play the knaue with you; looke you, I could cheat you of
    this purse full of money; but I am an old Lad, and I scorne
    to cunny-catch: yet I ha beene Dog at a Cony in my time.
    Bel. A purse, where had st it?
    Orl. The Gentleman that went away, whisperd in mine
    855eare, and charged me to giue it you.
    Bel. The Lord Hipollito?
    Orla. Yes, if he be a Lord, he gaue it me.
    Bel. 'Tis all gold.
    Orl. 'Tis like so: it may be, he thinkes you want money,
    860and therefore be stowes his almes brauely, like a Lord.
    Bel. He thinkes a siluer net can catch the poore,
    Here's baite to choake a Nun, and turne her whore.
    Wilt thou be hone st to me?
    Orl. As your nailes to your fingers, which I thinke ne-
    865uer deceiued you.
    Bel. Thou to this Lord shalt goe, commend me to him,
    And tell him this, the Towne has held out long,
    Because (within) 'twas rather true, then strong.
    To sell it now were base; Say 'tis no hold
    870Built of weake stuffe, to be blowne vp with gold.
    He shall beleeue thee by this token, or this; if not, by this.
    Orla. Is this all?
    Bel. This is all.
    Orl. Mine owne Girle still.
    875 Bel. A Starre may shoote, not fall. Exit Bellafront.
    Orl. A Starre? nay, thou art more then the moone, for
    thou ha st neither changing quarters, nor a man standing in
    thy circle with a bu sh of thornes. Is't po s sible the Lord Hipollito, whose face is as ciuill as the out side of a Dedicato-
    880ry Booke, should be a Muttonmunger? A poore man has
    but one Ewe, and this Grandy Sheepe-biter leaues whole
    Flockes of fat Weathers (whom he may knocke downe)
    to deuoure this. Ile tru st neither Lord nor Butcher with
    quicke fle sh for this tricke; the Cuckoo I see now sings all
    885the yeere, though euery man cannot heare him, but Ile
    spoyle his notes; can neither Loue-letters, nor the Deuils
    common Pick-lockes (Gold) nor Precious Stones make my
    Girle draw vp her Percullis: hold out still, wench.
    All are not Bawds (I see now) that keepe doores,
    890Nor all good wenches that are markt for Whores. Exit.
    Enter Candido, Lodouico like a Prentice.
    Lod. Come, come, come, what doe yee lacke, sir? what
    doe ye lacke, sir? what is't ye lacke, sir? is not my Wor ship
    well suited? did you euer see a Gentleman better disguised?
    895 Cand. Neuer, beleeue me, Signior.
    Lod. Yes: but when he has bin drunke, there be Prenti-
    ces would make mad Gallants, for they would spend all, and
    drinke, and whore, and so forth; and I see we Gallants could
    make mad Prentices. How does thy wife like me? Nay, I
    900mu st not be so sawcy, then I spoyle all: pray you how does
    my Mi stris like me?
    Cand. Well: for she takes you for a very simple fellow.
    Lod. And they that are taken for such, are commonly
    the arrante st knaues: but to our Comedy, come.
    905 Cand. I shall not act it, chide you say, and fret,
    And grow impatient: I shall neuer doo't.
    Lod. S'blood, cannot you doe as all the world does?
    counterfet.
    Cand. Were I a Painter, that should liue by drawing no-
    910thing but Pictures of an angry man, I should not earne my
    colours; I cannot doo't.
    Lod. Remember y'are a Linnen Draper, and that if you
    giue your wife a yard, she'll take an ell: giue her not there-
    fore a quarter of your yard, not a nayle.
    915 Cand. Say I should turne to Ice, and nip her loue now 'tis
    but in the blood.
    Lod. Well, say she's nipt.
    Cand. It will so ouerchange her heart with griefe,
    That like a Cannon, when her sighes goe off,
    920She in her duty either will recoyle,
    Or breake in pieces and so dye: her death,
    By my vnkindne s s e might be counted murther.
    Lod. Dye? neuer, neuer; I doe not bid you beat her, nor
    giue her blacke eyes, nor pinch her sides: but cro s s e her
    925humours. Are not Bakers armes the skales of Iu stice? yet
    is not their bread light? and may not you I pray bridle her
    with a sharpe bit, yet ride her gently?
    Cand. Well, I will try your pills, doe you your faithfull
    seruice, and bee ready still at a pinch to helpe me in this
    930part, or else I shall be out cleane.
    Lod. Come, come, Ile prompt you.
    Cand. Ile call her forth now, shall I?
    Lod. Doe, doe, brauely.
    Cand. Luke, I pray bid your Mi stris to come hither.
    935 Lod. Luke, I pray bid your Mi stris to come hither.
    Cand. Sirra, bid my wife come to me: why, when?
    Luke. Presently, sir, she comes.--- --- within --
    Lod. La you, there's the eccho, she comes. Exit Bride.
    Bride. What is your pleasure with me?
    940 Cand. Mary wife,
    I haue intent, and (you see) this stripling here,
    He beares good will and liking to my trade,
    And meanes to deale in Linnen.
    Lod. Yes indeed, sir, I would deale in Linnen, if my Mi-
    945 stris like me so well as I like her?
    Cand. I hope to finde him hone st, pray good wife looke
    that his bed and chamber be made ready.
    Bride. Y'are be st to let him hire mee for his maide?
    I looke to his bed? looke too't your selfe.
    950 Cand. Euen so
    I sweare to you a great oath.
    Lod. Sweare, cry Zoundes.
    Cand. I will not, goe to wife, I will not.
    Lod. That your great oath?
    955 Cand. Swallow these gudgeons.
    Lod. Well said.
    Cand. Then fa st, then you may choose.
    You know at Table
    What trickes you played, swaggerd, broke gla s s es! Fie,
    960Fie, fie, fie: and now before my Prentice here
    You make an a s s e of me; thou, (what shall I call thee?)
    Bride. Euen what you will.
    Lod. Call her arrant whore.
    Cand. Oh fie, by no meanes, then she'll call me Cuckold,
    965 sirrah, goe looke to'th shop: how does this show?
    Lod. Excellent well, Ile goe looke to the shop, sir. Fine
    Cambricks, Lawnes, what doe you lacke. Exit Lodouico.
    Cand. A cur st Cowes milke I ha drunke once before,
    And 'twas so ranke in ta ste, Ile drinke no more.
    970Wife, Ile tame you.
    Bride. You may, sir, if you can,
    But at a wra stling I haue seene a fellow
    Limbd like an Oxe, throwne by a little man.
    Cand. And so you'll throw me. Reach me (Knaues) a yard.
    975 Lod. A Yard for my Ma ster.
    1. Prent. My Ma ster is growne valiant.
    Cand. Ile teach you fencing trickes.
    Omnes. Rare, rare; a prize.
    Lod. What will you doe, sir?
    980 Can. Mary, my good Prentice, nothing but breathe my wife.
    Bride. Breathe me with your yard?
    Lod. No, he'll but measure you out, forsooth.
    Bride. Since you'll needes fence, handle your weapon well,
    For if you take a yard, Ile take an ell.
    985Reach me an ell.
    Lod. An ell for my Mi stris.
    Keep the lawes of the Noble Science, sir, & measure weapons
    with her; your yard is a plaine Heatheni sh weapon; 'tis too
    short, she may giue you a handfull, & yet you'l not reach her.
    990 Cand. Yet I ha the longer arme, come fall too't roundly,
    And spare not me (wife) for Ile lay't on soundly.
    If o're husbands their wiues will needes be Ma sters,
    We men will haue a law to win't at wa sters
    Lod. 'Tis for the breeches, is't not?
    995 Cand. For the breeches.
    Bride. Husband I am for you, Ile not strike in ie st.
    Cand. Nor I.
    Bride. But will you signe to one reque st?
    Cand. What's that?
    1000 Bride. Let me giue the fir st blow.
    Cand. The fir st blow, wife, shall I? Prompt?
    Lod. Let her ha'te.
    If she strike hard, in to her, and breake her pate.
    Cand. A bargaine. Strike.
    1005 Bride. Then guard you from this blow,
    For I play all at legges, but 'tis thus low. She kneeles.
    Behold, I am such a cunning Fencer growne,
    I keepe my ground, yet downe I will be throwne
    With the lea st blow you giue me, I disdaine
    1010The wife that is her husbands Soueraigne.
    She that vpon your pillow fir st did re st,
    They say, the breeches wore, which I dete st.
    The taxe which she imposed vpon you, I abate you,
    If me you make your Ma ster, I shall hate you.
    1015The world shall iudge who offers faire st play;
    You win the breeches, but I win the day.
    Cand. Thou win st the day indeed, giue me thy hand,
    Ile challenge thee no more: my patient bre st
    Plaid thus the Rebell, onely for a ie st:
    1020Here's the rancke rider that breakes Colts, 'tis he
    Can tame the mad folkes, and cur st wiues.
    Bride. Who, your man?
    Cand. My man? my Ma ster, tho his head be bare,
    But he's so courteous, he'll put off his haire.
    1025 Lod. Nay, if your seruice be so hot, a man cannot keepe
    his haire on, Ile serue you no longer.
    Bride. Is this your Schoolema ster?
    Lod. Yes faith, wench, I taught him to take thee downe:
    I hope thou can st take him downe without teaching; you
    1030ha got the conque st, and you both are friends.
    Cand. Beare witnes else.
    Lod. My Prenti ship then ends.
    Cand. For the good seruice you to me haue done,
    I giue you all your yeeres.
    1035 Lod. I thanke you Ma ster.
    Ile ki s s e my Mi stris now, that she may say,
    My man was bound, and free all in one day. Exeunt.
    Enter Orlando, and Infaelice.
    Infae . From whom saie st thou?
    1040 Orla. From a poore Gentlewoman, Madam, whom I serue.
    Infae . And whats your bu sine s s e?
    Orla. This, Madam: my poore Mi stris has a wa ste piece
    of ground, which is her owne by inheritance, and left to
    her by her mother; There's a Lord now that goes about,
    1045not to take it cleane from her, but to inclose it to himselfe,
    and to ioyne it to a piece of his Lord ships.
    Infae . What would she haue me doe in this?
    Orla. No more, Madam, but what one woman should
    doe for another in such a case. My Honourable Lord, your
    1050Husband would doe any thing in her behalfe, but shee had
    rather put her selfe into your hands, because you (a woman)
    may doe more with the Duke your Father.
    Infae . Where lyes this Land?
    Orl. Within a stones ca st of this place; my Mi stris, I think,
    1055would be content to let him enioy it after her decease, if
    that would serue his turne, so my Ma ster would yeeld too:
    but she cannot abide to heare that the Lord should meddle
    with it in her life time.
    Infae . Is she then married? why stirres not her Husband
    1060in it?
    Orl. Her Husband stirres in it vnder hand: but because
    the other is a great rich man, my Ma ster is loth to be seene
    in it too much.
    Infae . Let her in writing draw the cause at large:
    1065And I will moue the Duke.
    Orl. 'Tis set downe, Madam, here in blacke and white
    already: worke it so, Madam, that she may keepe her owne
    without di sturbance, grieuance, mole station, or medling of
    any other; and she be stowes this purse of gold on your La-
    1070dy ship.
    Infae . Old man, Ile pleade for her, but take no fees:
    Giue Lawyers them, I swim not in that flood,
    Ile touch no gold, till I haue done her good.
    Orl. I would all Proctors Clearkes were of your minde,
    1075I should law more among st them then I doe then; here, Ma-
    dam, is the suruey, not onely of the Mannor it selfe, but of
    the Grange house, with euery Medow pa sture, Plough-
    land, Cony-borough, Fi sh-pond, hedge, ditch, and bu sh
    that stands in it.
    1080 Infae . My Husbands name, and hand and seale at armes
    to a Loue-letter? Where had st thou this writing?
    Orla. From the foresaid party, Madam, that would keepe
    the foresaid Land out of the foresaid Lords fingers.
    Infae . My Lord turnd Ranger now?
    1085 Orl. Y'are a good Huntre s s e, Lady, you ha found your
    Game already; your Lord would faine be a Ranger, but my
    Mi stris reque sts you to let him runne a course in your owne
    Parke, if you'll not doo't for loue, then doo't for money; she
    has no white money, but there's gold, or else she praies you
    1090to ring him by this token, and so you shall be sure his nose
    will not be rooting other mens pa stures.
    Infae . This very purse was wouen with mine owne hands,
    This Diamond on that very night, when he
    Vntyed my Virgin girdle, gaue I him:
    1095And mu st a common Harlot share in mine?
    Old man, to quit thy paines, take thou the gold.
    Orl. Not I, Madam, old Seruingmen want no money.
    Infae . Cupid himselfe was sure his Secretary,
    These lines are euen the Arrowes Loue let flies,
    1100The very Incke dropt out of Uenus eyes.
    Orla. I doe not thinke, Madam, but hee fetcht off some
    Poet or other for those lines, for they are parlous Hawkes
    to flie at wenches.
    Infae Here's honied poyson, to me he ne'r thus writ,
    1105But Lu st can set a double edge on wit.
    Orla. Nay, that's true, Madam, a wench will whet any
    thing, if it be not too dull.
    Infae . Oathes, promises, preferments, Iewels, gold,
    What snares should breake, if all these cannot hold?
    1110What creature is thy Mi stris?
    Orl. One of those creatures that are contrary to man;
    a woman.
    Infae . What manner of woman?
    Orl. A little tiny woman, lower then your Ladi ship by
    1115head and shoulders, but as mad a wench as euer vnlaced a
    petticote: these things should I indeed haue deliuered to my
    Lord your Husband.
    Infae . They are deliuered better: Why should she send
    backe these things?
    1120 Orl. Ware, ware, there's knauery.
    Infae . Strumpets like cheating game sters will not win
    At fir st: these are but baites to draw him in.
    How might I learne his hunting houres?
    Orl. The Iri sh Footman can tell you all his hunting
    1125houres, the Parke he hunts in, the Doe he would strike, that
    Iri sh Shackatory beates the bu sh for him, and knowes all;
    he brought that Letter, and that Ring; he is the Carrier.
    Infae . Knowe st thou what other gifts haue pa st betweene
    them?
    1130 Orl. Little S. Patricke knowes all.
    Infae . Him Ile examine presently.
    Orl. Not while st I am here, sweet Madam.
    Infae . Be gon then, & what lyes in me command. Exit Orl.
    Enter Bryan.
    1135 Infae . Come hither sirra, how much co st those Satins, and
    cloth of Siluer, which my husband sent by you to a low
    Gentlewoman yonder?
    Bry. Faat Sattins? faat Siluers, faat low Gentlefolkes?
    dow prate st dow knowe st not what, yfaat la.
    1140 Infae . She there, to whom you carried letters.
    Bry. By dis hand and bod dow sai st true, if I did so, oh
    how? I know not a letter a de Booke yfaat la.
    Infae . Did your Lord neuer send you with a Ring, sir, set
    with a Diamond?
    1145 Bry. Neuer, sa crees sa me, neuer; he may runne at a tow-
    sand rings yfaat, and I neuer hold his stirrop, till he leape in-
    to de saddle. By S. Patricke, Madam, I neuer touch my Lords
    Diamond, nor euer had to doe, yfaat la, with any of his pre-
    cious stones.
    1150 Enter Hipollito.
    Infae . Are you so close, you Bawd, you pandring slaue?
    Hip. How now? why Infaelice? what's your quarrell?
    Infae . Out of my sight, base varlet, get thee gone.
    Hip. Away you rogue.
    1155 Bry. Slawne loot, fare de well, fare de well. Ah marragh
    frofat boddah breen. Exit.
    Hip. What, growne a fighter? prethee what's the matter?
    Infae . If you'll needs know, it was about the clocke: how
    workes the day, my Lord, (pray) by your watch?
    1160 Hip. Le st you cuffe me, Ile tell you presently: I am
    neere two.
    Infae . How, two? I am scarce at one.
    Hip. One of vs then goes false.
    Infae . Then sure 'tis you,
    1165Mine goes by heauens Diall, (the Sunne) and it goes true.
    Hip. I thinke (indeed) mine runnes somewhat too fa st.
    Infae . Set it to mine (at one) then.
    Hip. One? 'tis pa st:
    'Tis pa st one by the Sunne.
    1170 Infae . Faith then belike,
    Neither your clocke nor mine does truely strike,
    And since it is vncertaine which goes true,
    Better be false at one, then false at two.
    Hip. Y'are very pleasant, Madam.
    1175 Infae . Yet not merry.
    Hip. Why Infaelice, what should make you sad?
    Infae . Nothing my Lord, but my false watch, pray tell me,
    You see, my clocke, or yours is out of frame,
    Mu st we vpon the Workeman lay the blame,
    1180Or on your selues that keepe them?
    Hip. Faith on both.
    He may by knauery spoile them, we by sloth,
    But why talke you all riddle thus? I read
    Strange Comments in those margines of your lookes:
    1185Your cheekes of late are (like bad printed Bookes)
    So dimly charactred, I scarce can spell,
    One line of loue in them. Sure all's not well.
    Infae . All is not well indeed, my deare st Lord,
    Locke vp thy gates of hearing, that no sound
    1190Of what I speake may enter.
    Hip. What meanes this?
    Infae . Or if my owne tongue mu st my selfe betray,
    Count it a dreame, or turne thine eyes away,
    And thinke me not thy wife. She kneeles.
    1195 Hip. Why doe you kneele?
    Infae . Earth is sinnes cu shion: when the sicke soule feeles
    her selfe growing poore, then she turnes begger, cryes and
    kneeles for helpe; Hipollito (for husband I dare not call
    thee) I haue slolne that Iewell of my cha ste honour (which
    1200was onely thine) and giuen it to a slaue.
    Hip. Hah?
    Infae . On thy pillow adultery & lu st haue slept, thy Groome
    Hath climbed the vnlawfull tree, and pluckt the sweets,
    A villaine hath vsurped a husbands sheetes.
    1205 Hip. S'death, who, (a Cuckold) who?
    Infae . This Iri sh Footman.
    Hip. Worse then damnation, a wild Kerne, a Frogge, a
    Dog: whom Ile scarce spurne. Longed you for Shamocke?
    were it my fathers father (heart) Ile kill him, although I
    1210take him on his death-bed gasping 'twixt heauen and hell;
    a shag-haired Cur? Bold Strumpet, why hange st thou on me? think st Ile be a Bawde to a Whore, because she's Noble?
    Infae . I beg but this,
    Set not my shame out to the worlds broad eye,
    1215Yet let thy vengeance (like my fault) soare hye,
    So it be in darkned clowdes.
    Hip. Darkned! my hornes
    Cannot be darkned, nor shall my reuenge.
    A Harlot to my slaue? the act is base,
    1220Common, but foule, so shall thy disgrace:
    Could not I feed your appetite? oh women
    You were created Angels, pure and faire;
    But since the fir st fell, tempting Deuils you are,
    You should be mens bli s s e, but you proue their rods.
    1225Were there no women, men might liue like gods:
    You ha beene too much downe already, rise,
    Get from my sight, and henceforth shun my bed,
    Ile with no Strumpets breath be poysoned.
    As for your Iri sh Lubrican, that spirit
    1230Whom by prepo strous charmes thy lu st hath raised
    In a wrong Circle, him Ile damne more blacke
    Then any Tyrants soule.
    Infae . Hipollito?
    Hip. Tell me, did st thou baite Hawkes to draw him to
    1235thee, or did he bewitch thee?
    Infae . The slaue did woo me.
    Hip. Two wooes in that Skreech-owles language? Oh
    who would tru st your corcke-heeld sex? I thinke to sate
    your lu st, you would loue a Horse, a Beare, a croaking Toade,
    1240 so your hot itching veines might haue their bound, then the
    wild Iri sh Dart was throwne. Come, how? the manner of
    this fight.
    Infae . 'Twas thus, he gaue me this battery fir st. Oh I
    Mi stake, beleeue me, all this in beaten gold:
    1245Yet I held out, but at length this was charm'd.
    What? change your Diamond wench, the act is base,
    Common, but foule, so shall not your disgrace:
    Could not I feed your appetite? Oh Men,
    You were created Augels, pure and faire,
    1250But since the fir st fell, worse then Deuils you are.
    You should our shields be, but you proue our rods.
    Were there no Men, Women might liue like gods.
    Guilty my Lord?
    Hip. Yes, guilty my good Lady.
    1255 Infae . Nay, you may laugh, but henceforth shun my bed,
    With no whores leauings Ile be poysoned. Exit.
    Hip. O're-reach'd so finely? 'Tis the very Diamond
    And Letter which I sent: this villany
    Some Spider closely weaues, whose poysond bulke
    1260I mu st let forth. Who's there without?
    Seruant. My Lord calls.---- within.----
    Hip. Send me the Footman.
    Ser. Call the Footman to my Lord. Bryan, Bryan.
    Enter Bryan.
    1265 Hip. It can be no man else, that Iri sh Iudas,
    Bred in a Country where no venom prospers,
    But in the Nations blood hath thus betraid me.
    Slaue, get you from your seruice.
    Bry. Faat meane st thou by this now?
    1270 Hip. Que stion me not, nor tempt my fury, villaine,
    Could st thou turne all the Mountaines in the land,
    To hills of gold, and to giue me; here thou staye st not.
    Bry. I faat, I care not.
    Hip. Prate not, but get thee gone, I shall send else.
    1275 Bry. I, doe predy, I had rather haue thee make a scabbard
    of my guts, and let out all de Iri sh puddings in my poore
    belly, den to be a false knaue to de I faat, I will neuer see
    dyne own sweet face more. A mawhid deer a gra, fare de well,
    fare de well, I wil goe steale Cowes agen in Ireland. Exit.
    1280 Hip. He's damn'd that rais'd this whirlewind, which
    hath blowne
    Into her eyes this iealou sie: yet Ile on,
    Ile on, stood armed Deuils staring in my face,
    To be pursued in flight, quickens the race,
    1285Shall my blood streames by a wiues lu st be bard?
    Fond woman, no: Iron growes by strokes more hard,
    Lawle s s e de sires are seas scorning all bounds,
    Or sulphure which being ram'd vp, more confounds,
    Strugling with mad men, madnes nothing tames,
    1290Winds wra stling with great fires, incense the flames. Exit.
    Enter Matheo, Bellafront, and Orlando.
    Bel. How now, what ayles your Ma ster?
    Orl. Has taken a yonger brothers purge, forsooth, and
    that workes with him.
    1295 Bel. Where is his Cloake and Rapier?
    Orl. He has giuen vp his Cloake, and his Rapier is bound
    to the Peace: If you looke a little higher, you may see that
    another hath entred into hatband for him too. Sixe and
    foure haue put him into this sweat.
    1300 Bel. Where's all his money?
    Orl. 'Tis put ouer by exchange: his doublet was going to
    be tran slated, but for me: if any man would ha lent but
    halfe a ducket on his beard, the haire of it had stuft a paire
    of breeches by this time; I had but one poore penny, and
    1305that I was glad to niggle out, and buy a holly-wand to grace
    him thorow the streete. As hap was, his bootes were on, and
    then I du stied, to make people thinke he had beene riding,
    and I had runne by him.
    Bell. Oh me, how does my sweet Matheo?
    1310 Mat. Oh Rogue, of what deuili sh stuffe are these Dice
    made off? of the parings of the Deuils cornes of his toes,
    that they runne thus damnably.
    Bel. I prethee vex not.
    Mat. If any handy-crafts man was euer suffred to keep
    1315 shop in hell, it will be a Dice-maker; he's able to vndoe
    more soules then the Deuill; I plaid with mine owne Dice,
    yet lo st. Ha you any money?
    Bel. Las I ha none.
    Mat. Mu st haue money, mu st haue some, mu st haue a
    1320Cloake, and Rapier, and things: will you goe set your lime-
    twigs, and get me some birds, some money?
    Bel. What limetwigs should I set?
    Mat. You will not then? Mu st haue ca sh and pictures:
    doe ye heare, (frailty) shall I walke in a Plimouth Cloake, 1325(that's to say) like a rogue, in my hose and doublet, and a
    crabtree cudgell in my hand, and you swimme in your Sat-
    tins? mu st haue money, come.
    Orl. Is't bed-time, Ma ster, that you vndo my Mi stris?
    Bel. Vndoe me? Yes, yes, at these riflings
    1330I haue beene too often.
    Mat. Helpe to flea, Pacheco.
    Orl. Fleaing call you it?
    Mat. Ile pawne you by'th Lord, to your very eye-browes.
    Bel. With all my heart, since heauen will haue me poore,
    1335As good he drown'd at sea, as drown'd at shore.
    Orl. Why heare you, sir? yfaith doe not make away her
    Gowne.
    Mat. Oh it's Summer, it's Summer; your onely fa shion
    for a woman now, is to be light, to be light.
    1340 Orl. Why, pray sir, employ some of that money you haue
    of mine.
    Mat. Thine? Ile starue fir st, Ile beg fir st; when I touch a
    penny of that, let these fingers ends rot.
    Orl. So they may, for that's pa st touching. I saw my
    1345twenty pounds flye hie.
    Mat. Knowe st thou neuer a damn'd Broker about the
    Citty?
    Orl. Damn'd Broker? yes, fiue hundred.
    Mat. The Gowne stood me in aboue twenty Duckets,
    1350borrow ten of it, cannot liue without siluer.
    Orl. Ile make what I can of it, sir, Ile be your Broker,
    But not your damb'd broker: Oh thou scuruy knaue,
    What makes a wife turne whore, but such a slaue? Exit.
    Mat. How now little chicke, what ayle st, weeping
    1355For a handfull of Taylors shreds? pox on them, are there
    not silkes enow at Mercers?
    Bel I care not for gay feathers, I.
    Mat. What doe st care for then? why doe st grieue?
    Bel. Why doe I grieue? A thousand sorrowes strike
    1360At one poore heart, and yet it liues. Matheo,
    Thou art a Game ster, prethee throw at all,
    Set all vpon one ca st, we kneele and pray,
    And struggle for life, yet mu st be ca st away.
    Meet misery quickly then, split all, sell all,
    1365And when thou ha st sold all, spend it, but I beseech thee
    Build not thy mind on me to coyne thee more,
    To get it would st thou haue me play the whore?
    Mat. 'Twas your profe s sion before I married you.
    Bel. Vmh? it was indeed: if all men should be branded
    1370For sinnes long since laid vp, who could be saued?
    The Quarter day's at hand, how will you doe
    To pay the Rent, Matheo?
    Mat. Why? doe as all of our occupation doe again st
    Quarter daies; breake vp house, remoue, shift your lodg-
    1375ings, pox a your Quarters.
    Enter Lodouico.
    Lod. Where's this Gallant?
    Mat. Signior Lodouico? how does my little Mirror of
    Knight-hood? this is kindly done yfaith: welcome by my
    1380troth.
    Lod. And how doe st, frolicke? Saue you faire Lady. Thou
    looke st smug and brauely, Noble Mat.
    Mat. Drinke and feed, laugh and lie warme.
    Lod. Is this thy wife?
    1385 Mat. A poore Gentlewoman, sir, whom I make vse of
    a nights.
    Lod. Pay cu stome to your lips, sweet Lady.
    Mat. Borrow some shells of him, some wine, sweet
    heart.
    1390 Lod. Ile send for't then yfaith.
    Mat. You send for't? Some wine I prethee.
    Bel. I ha no money.
    Mat. S'blood, nor I: What wine loue you, Signior?
    Lod. Here, or Ile not stay, I prote st; trouble the Gentle-
    1395woman too much? Exit Bellafront.
    And what newes flies abroad, Matheo?
    Mat. Troth, none. Oh Signior, we ha beene merry in our
    daies.
    Lod. And no doubt shall agen.
    1400The Diuine powers neuer shoot Darts at men
    Mortall, to kill them.
    Mat. You say true.
    Lod. Why should we grieue at want?
    Say the world made thee her Minnion, that
    1405Thy head lay in her lap, and that she danc't thee
    On her wanton knee, she could but giue thee a whole
    World: that's all, and that all's nothing; the worlds
    Greate st part cannot fill vp one corner of thy heart.
    Say, the three corners were all filld, alas!
    1410Of what art thou po s s e st, a thinne blowne gla s s e:
    Such as by Boyes is puft into the aire.
    Were twenty Kingdomes thine, thou'd st liue in care:
    Thou could' st not sleepe the better, nor liue longer,
    Nor merrier be, nor healthfuller, nor stronger.
    1415If then thou want' st, thus make that want thy pleasure,
    No man wants all things, nor has all in measure.
    Mat. I am the mo st wretched fellow: sure some left-
    handed Prie st chri stned me, I am so vnlucky: I am neuer
    out of one puddle or another, still falling.
    1420 Enter Bellafront, and Orlando.
    Mat. Fill out wine to my little finger.
    With my heart yfaith.
    Lod. Thankes, good Matheo.
    To your owne sweet selfe.
    1425 Orl. All the Brokers hearts, sir, are made of flint, I can
    with all my knocking, strike but sixe sparkes of fire out of them, here's sixe duckets, if youle take them.
    Mat. Giue me them: an euill conscience gnaw them all,
    moths and plagues hang vpon their low sie wardrobs.
    1430 Lod. Is this your man, Matheo? An old Seruingman.
    Orl. You may giue me t'other halfe too, sir:
    That's the Begger.
    Lod. What ha st there, gold?
    Mat. A sort of Rascalls are in my debt, (God knowes
    1435what) and they feed me with bits, with crummes, a pox
    choke them.
    Lod. A word, Matheo: be not angry with me,
    Beleeue it that I know the touch of time,
    And can part copper (tho it be gilded o're)
    1440From the true gold: the sailes which thou doe st spread,
    Would show well, if they were not borrowed.
    The sound of thy low fortunes drew me hither,
    I giue my selfe vnto thee, prethee vse me,
    I will be stow on you a suite of Sattin,
    1445And all things else to fit a Gentleman,
    Because I loue you.
    Mat. Thankes, good Noble Knight.
    Lod. Call on me when you please,
    Till then farewell. Exit.
    1450 Mat. Ha st angled? ha st cut vp this fre sh Salmon?
    Bel. Wud st haue me be so base?
    Mat. It's base to steale, it's base to be a whore:
    Thou't be more base, Ile make thee keepe a doore. Exit.
    Orl. I hope he will not sneake away with all the money,
    1455will he?
    Bel. Thou see st he does.
    Orl. Nay then it's well. I set my braines vpon an vpright
    La st; tho my wits be old, yet they are like a witherd pip-
    pin, wholsome. Looke you, Mi stris, I told him I had but sixe
    1460duckets of the (Knaue) Broker, but I had eight, and kept
    these two for you.
    Bel. Thou should st haue giuen him all.
    Orl. What, to flie hie?
    Bel. Like waues, my misery driues on misery. Exit.
    1465 Orl. Sell his wiues cloathes from her backe? does any
    Poulterers wife pull chickins aliue? He Riots all abroad,
    wants all at home; he Dices, whores, swaggers, sweares,
    cheates, borrowes, pawnes: Ile giue him hooke and line,
    a little more for all this.
    1470Yet sure i'th end he'll delude all my hopes,
    And shew me a French tricke danc'd on the ropes. Exit.
    Enter at one doore Lodouico and Carolo; at another Bots,
    and Mi stris Hor sleach; Candido and his wife
    appeare in the Shop.
    1475 Lod. Hi st, hi st, Lieutenant Bots, how do' st, man?
    Car. Whither are you ambling, Madam Hor sleach?
    Hors . About worldly profit, sir: how doe your Wor ships?
    Bots. We want tooles, Gentlemen, to furni sh the trade:
    they weare out day and night, they weare out till no mettle
    1480bee left in their backe; wee heare of two or three new
    Wenches are come vp with a Carrier, and your old
    Go shawke here is flying at them.
    Lod. And faith, what fle sh haue you at home?
    Hors . Ordinary Di shes, by my troth, sweet men, there's
    1485few good i'th Cittie; I am as well furni sht as any, and tho
    I say it, as well cu stom'd.
    Bots. We haue meates of all sorts of dre s sing; we haue
    stew'd meat for your Frenchmen, pretty light picking meat
    for your Italian, and that which is rotten roa sted, for Don 1490 Spaniardo.
    Lod. A pox on't.
    Bots. We haue Poulterers ware for your sweet bloods, as
    Doue, Chickin, Ducke, Teale, Woodcocke, and so forth: and
    Butchers meat for the Cittizen: yet Muttons fall very bad
    1495this yeere.
    Lod. Stay, is not that my patient Linnen Draper yonder,
    and my fine yong smug Mi stris, his wife?
    Car. Sirra Grannam, Ile giue thee for thy fee twenty
    crownes, if thou can st but procure me the wearing of yon
    1500veluet cap.
    Hos . You'd weare another thing be sides the cap. Y'are
    a Wag.
    Bots. Twenty crownes? we'li share, and Ile be your pully
    to draw her on.
    1505 Lod. Doo't presently; we'll ha some sport.
    Hors . Wheele you about, sweet men: doe you see, Ile chea-
    pen wares of the man, while st Bots is doing with his wife.
    Lod. Too't: if we come into the shop to doe you grace,
    wee'll call you Madam.
    1510 Bots. Pox a your old face, giue it the badge of all scuruy
    faces, a Masque.
    Cand. What is't you lacke, Gentlewoman? Cambricke or
    Lawnes, or fine Hollands? Pray draw neere, I can sell you a
    penny-worth.
    1515 Bots. Some Cambricke for my old Lady.
    Cand. Cambricke? you shall, the pure st thred in Millan.
    Lod. and Car. Saue you, Signior Candido.
    Lod. How does my Noble Ma ster? how my faire Mi stris?
    Cand. My Wor shipfull good Seruant, view it well, for 'tis
    1520both fine and euen.
    Car. Cry you mercy, Madam, tho mask'd, I thought it
    should be you by your man. Pray Signior, shew her the be st,
    for she commonly deales for good ware.
    Cand. Then this shall fit her, this is for your Ladi ship.
    1525 Bots. A word, I pray, there is a waiting Gentlewomon of
    my Ladies: her name is Ruyna, saies she's your Kinswoman,
    and that you should be one of her Aunts.
    Wife. One of her Aunts? troth sir, I know her not.
    Bots. If it please you to be stow the poore labour of your
    1530legs at any time, I will be your conuoy thither?
    Wife. I am a Snaile, sir, seldome leaue my house, if't please
    her to vi sit me, she shall be welcome.
    Bots. Doe you heare? the naked troth is: my Lady hath
    a yong Knight, her sonne, who loues you, y'are made, if you
    1535lay hold vpont: this Iewell he sends you.
    Wife. Sir, I returne his loue and Iewell with scorne; let
    goe my hand, or I shall call my husband. You are an arrant
    Knaue. Exit.
    Lod. What, will she doe?
    1540 Bots. Doe? they shall all doe if Bots sets vpon them once,
    she was as if she had profe st the trade, squeami sh at fir st, at
    la st I shewed her this Iewell, said, a Kuight sent it her.
    Lod. Is't gold, and right stones?
    Bots. Copper, Copper, I goe a fi shing with these baites.
    1545 Lod. She nibbled, but wud not swallow the hooke, because
    the Cunger-head her husband was by: but shee bids the
    Gentleman name any afternoone, and she'll meet him at her
    Garden house, which I know.
    Lod. Is this no lie now?
    1550 Bots. Dam me if---
    Lod. Oh prethee stay there.
    Bots. The twenty crownes, sir.
    Lod. Before he has his worke done? but on my Knightly
    word, he shall pay't thee.
    1555 Enter A stolpho, Beraldo, Fontinell, and the Iri sh Footman.
    A sto. I thought thou had st beene gone into thine owne
    Country.
    Bry. No faat la, I cannot goe dis foure or tree dayes.
    Ber. Looke thee, yonders the shop, and that's the man
    1560himselfe.
    Fon. Thou shalt but cheapen, and doe as we told thee, to
    put a ie st vpon him, to abuse his patience.
    Bry. I faat, I doubt my pate shall be knocked: but sa crees
    sa me, for your shakes, I will runne to any Linnen Draper in
    1565hell, come preddy.
    Omnes. Saue you Gallants.
    Lod. and Car. Oh, well met!
    Cand. You'll giue no more you say? I cannot take it.
    Hors . Truly Ile giue no more.
    1570 Cand. It mu st not fetch it. What wud you haue, sweet
    Gentlemen?
    A sto. Nay, here's the Cu stomer. Exeunt Bots & Hor sl.
    Lod. The Garden-house you say? wee'll boult out your
    roguery.
    1575 Cand. I will but lay these parcels by-- My men are all
    at Cu stome-house vnloding Wares, if Cambricke you wud
    deale in, there's the be st, all Millan cannot sample it.
    Lod. Doe you heare? 1. 2. 3. S'foot, there came in 4.
    Gallants, sure your wife is slipt vp, and the 4th. man I hold
    1580my life, is grafting your Warden tree.
    Cand. Ha, ha, ha: you Gentlemen are full of Ie st.
    If she be vp, she's gone some wares to show,
    I haue aboue as good wares as below.
    Lod. Haue you so? nay then----
    1585 Cand. Now Gentlemen, is't Cambricks?
    Bry. I predee now let me haue de be st wares.
    Cand. What's that he saies, pray Gentlemen?
    Lod. Mary he saies we are like to haue the be st wares.
    Cand. The be st wares? all are bad, yet wares doe good,
    1590And like to Surgeons, let sicke Kingdomes blood.
    Bry. Faat a Deuill prate st tow so, a pox on dee, I preddee
    let me see some Hollen, to make Linnen shirts, for feare my
    body be low sie.
    Cand. Indeed I vnder stand no word he speakes.
    1595 Car. Mary, he saies, that at the siege in Holland there was
    much bawdry vsed among the Souldiers, tho they were
    low sie.
    Cand. It may be so, that's likely, true indeed,
    In euery garden, sir, does grow that weed.
    1600 Bry. Pox on de gardens, and de weedes, and de fooles
    cap dere, and de cloutes; heare? doe st make a Hobby-horse
    of me.
    Omnes. Oh fie, he has torne de Cambricke.
    Cand. 'Tis no matter.
    1605 A sto. It frets me to the soule.
    Cand. So doe st not me.
    My Cu stomers doe oft for remnants call,
    These are two remnants now, no lo s s e at all.
    But let me tell you, were my Seruants here,
    1610It would ha co st more.-- Thanke you Gentlemen,
    I vse you well, pray know my shop agen. Exit.
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha; come, come, let's goe, let's goe. Exeunt.
    Enter Matheo (braue) and Bellafront.
    Mat. How am I suited, Front? am I not gallant, ha?
    1615 Bel. Yes, sir, you are suited well.
    Mat. Exceeding pa s sing well, and to the time.
    Bel. The Taylor has plaid his part with you.
    Mat. And I haue plaid a Gentlemans part with my Tay-
    lor, for I owe him for the making of it.
    1620 Bel. And why did you so, sir?
    Mat. To keepe the fa shion; It's your onely fa shion now
    of your be st ranke of Gallants, to make their Taylors waite
    for their money, neither were it wisedome indeed to pay
    them vpon the fir st edition of a new suite: for commonly
    1625the suite is owing for, when the lynings are worne out, and
    there's no reason then, that the Taylor should be paid be-
    fore the Mercer.
    Bel. Is this the suite the Knight be stowed vpon you?
    Mat. This is the suite, and I need not shame to weare it,
    1630for better men then I would be glad to haue suites be stow-
    ed on them. It's a generous fellow,--but--pox on him--we
    whose Pericranions are the very Limbecks and Stillitories
    of good wit, and flie hie, mu st driue liquor out of stale ga-
    ping Oy sters. Shallow Knight, poore Squire Tinacheo: Ile
    1635make a wild Cataine of forty such: hang him, he's an A s s e,
    he's alwaies sober.
    Bel. This is your fault to wound your friends still.
    Mat. No faith, Front, Lodouico is a noble Slauonian: it's
    more rare to see him in a womans company, then for a Spa-
    1640niard to goe into England, and to challenge the Engli sh Fen-
    cers there.--One knockes,-- See-- La, fa, sol, la, fa, la,
    ru stle in Silkes and Satins: there's mu sique in this, and a
    Taffety Petticoate, it make both flie hie,-- Catzo.
    Enter Bellafront, after her Orlando like himselfe, with
    1645 foure men after him.
    Bel. Matheo? 'tis my Father.
    Mat. Ha, Father? It's no matter, hee findes no tatterd
    Prodigals here.
    Orl. Is not the doore good enough to hold your blue
    1650Coates? away, Knaues. Weare not your cloathes thred-bare
    at knees for me; beg Heauens ble s sing, (not mine.) Oh cry
    your Wor ship mercy, sir, was somewhat bold to talke to
    this Gentlewoman, your wife here.
    Mat. A poore Gentlewoman, sir.
    1655 Orl. Stand not, sir, bare to me; I ha read oft
    That Serpents who creepe low, belch ranker poison
    That winged Dragons doe, that flie aloft.
    Mat. If it offend you, sir? 'tis for my pleasure.
    Orl. Your pleasure be't, sir; vmh, is this your Palace?
    1660 Bel. Yes, and our Kingdome, for 'tis our content.
    Orl. It's a very poore Kingdome then; what, are all your
    Subiects gone a Sheepe- shearing? not a Maid? not a Man?
    not so much as a Cat? you keepe a good house belike, iu st
    like one of your profe s sion, euery roome with bare walls,
    1665and a halfe-headed bed to vault vpon (as all your bawdy-
    houses are.) Pray who are your Vphol sters? Oh, the Spiders.
    I see, they be stow hangings vpon you.
    Mat. Bawdy-house? Zounds sir----
    Bel. Oh sweet Matheo, peace. Vpon my knees
    1670I doe beseech you, sir, not to arraigne me
    For sinnes, which heauen, I hope, long since hath pardoned.
    Those flames (like lightning fla shes) are so spent,
    The heate no more remaines, then where ships went,
    Or where birds cut the aire, the print remaines.
    1675 Mat. Pox on him, kneele to a Dog?
    Bel. She that's a Whore,
    Liues gallant, fares well, is not (like me) poore,
    I ha now as small acquaintance with that sinne,
    As if I had neuer knowne it; that, neuer bin.
    1680 Orl. No acquaintance with it? what maintaines thee
    then? how doe st liue then? has thy husband any Lands? any
    Rents comming in, any Stocke going, any Ploughs iogging,
    any Ships sailing? ha st thou any Wares to turne, so much
    as to get a single penny by? yes, thou ha st Ware to sell,
    1685Knaues are thy Chapmen, and thy Shop is Hell.
    Mat. Doe you heare, sir?
    Orl. So sir, I do heare, sir, more of you then you dreame I do.
    Mat. You flie a little too hie, sir.
    Orl. Why, sir, too hie?
    1690 Mat. I ha suffred your tongue, like a bard Cater tra, to
    runne all this while, and ha not stopt it.
    Orl. Well, sir, you talke like a Game ster.
    Mat. If you come to bark at her, because shee's a poore
    rogue; look you, here's a fine path, sir, and there, there the
    1695doore.
    Bel. Matheo?
    Mat. Your blue Coates stay for you, sir.
    I loue a good hone st roaring Boy, and so----
    Orl. That's the Deuill.
    1700 Mat. Sir, sir, Ile ha no Ioues in my house to thunder A-
    uaunt: she shall liue and be maintained, when you, like a
    keg of mu sty Sturgeon, shall stinke. Where? in your Coffin.
    How? be a mu sty fellow, and low sie.
    Orl. I know she shall be maintained, but how? she like a
    1705Queane, thou like a Knaue; she like a Whore, thou like a
    Thiefe.
    Mat. Theife? Zounds Thiefe?
    Bel. Good deare st Mat.----Father.
    Mat. Pox on you both, Ile not be braued: New Sattin
    1710 scornes to be put downe with bare bawdy Veluet. Thiefe?
    Orl. I Thiefe, th'art a Murtherer, a Cheater, a Whore-
    monger, a Pot-hunter, a Borrower, a Begger----
    Bel. Deare Father.
    Mat. An old A s s e, a Dog, a Churle, a Chuffe, an Vsurer, a
    1715Villaine, a Moth, a mangy Mule, with an old veluet foot-
    cloth on his backe, sir.
    Bel. Oh me!
    Orl. Varlet, for this Ile hang thee.
    Mat. Ha, ha, alas.
    1720 Orl. Thou keepe st a man of mine here, vnder my nose.
    Mat. Vnder thy beard.
    Orl. As arrant a smell-smocke, for an old Mutton-munger,
    as thy selfe.
    Mat. No, as your selfe.
    1725 Orl. As arrant a purse-take. as euer cride, Stand, yet a
    good fellow, I confe s s e, and valiant, but he'll bring thee to'th Gallowes; you both haue robd of late two poore Country
    Pedlers.
    Mat. How's this? how's this? doe st thou flie hie? rob
    1730Pedlers? beare witnes Front, rob Pedlers? my man and I a
    Thiefe?
    Bel. Oh, sir, no more.
    Orl. I Knaue, two Pedlers, hue and cry is vp, Warrants
    are out, and I shall see thee climbe a Ladder.
    1735 Mat And come downe againe as well as a Bricklayer, or
    a Tyler. How the vengeance knowes he this? If I be han-
    ged, Ile tell the people I married old Friscabaldoes Daughter,
    Ile frisco you, and your old carkas.
    Orl. Tell what thou can st; if I stay here longer, I shall bee
    1740hang'd too, for being in thy company; therefore, as I found
    you, I leaue you.
    Mat. Kneele, and get money of him.
    Orl. A Knaue and a Queane, a Thiefe and a Strumpet, a
    couple of Beggers, a brace of Baggages.
    1745 Mat. Hang vpon him. I, I, sir, fare you well; we are so:
    follow close--we are Beggers--in Sattin--to him.
    Bel. Is this your comfort, when so many yeeres
    You ha left me frozen to death?
    Orl. Freeze still, starue still.
    1750 Bel. Yes, so I shall: I mu st: I mu st and will.
    If as you say I'm poore, relieue me then,
    Let me not sell my body to base men.
    You call me Strumpet, Heauen knowes I am none:
    Your cruelty may driue me to be one:
    1755Let not that sinne be yours, let not the shame
    Of common Whore liue longer then my name.
    That cunning Bawd (Nece s sity) night and day
    Plots to vndoe me; driue that Hag away,
    Le st being at lowe st ebbe, as now I am,
    1760I sinke for euer.
    Orl. Lowe st ebbe, what ebbe?
    Bel. So poore, that (tho to tell it be my shame)
    I am not worth a di sh to hold my meate;
    I am yet poorer, I want bread to eate.
    1765 Orl. It's not seene by your cheekes.
    Mat. I thinke she has read an Homely to tickle to the old
    rogue.
    Orl. Want bread? there's Sattin: bake that.
    Mat. S'blood, make Pa sties of my cloathes?
    1770 Orl. A faire new Cloake, stew that; an excellent gilt Ra-
    pier.
    Mat. Will you eat that, sir?
    Orl. I could fea st ten good fellowes with those Hangers.
    Mat. The pox you shall.
    1775 Orl. I shall not (till thou begge st,) thinke thou art poore;
    And when thou begge st, Ile feed thee at my doore,
    As I feed Dogs, (with bones) till then beg,
    Borrow, pawne, steale, and hang, turne Bawde.
    When th'art no Whore, my heart- strings sure
    1780Would crack, were they strained more. Exit.
    Mat. This is your Father, your damn'd -- confu sion
    light vpon all the generation of you; he can come bragging
    hither with foure white Herrings (at's taile) in blue
    Coates without roes in their bellies, but I may starue ere he
    1785giue me so much as a cob.
    Bel. What tell you me of this? alas.
    Mat. Goe trot after your Dad, doe you capitulate, Ile
    pawne not for you, Ile not steale to be hanged for such an
    hypocriticall close common Harlot: away, you Dog----
    1790Braue yfaith! Vds foot, Giue me some meate.
    Bel. Yes, Sir. Exit.
    Mat. Goodman slaue, my man too, is gallop'd to the De-
    uill athe t'other side: Pacheco, Ile checo you. Is this your
    Dads day? England (they say) is the onely hell for Horses, and
    1795onely Paradise for Women: pray get you to that Paradise,
    because y'are called an Hone st Whore; there they liue none
    but hone st whores with a pox: Mary here in our Citty, all
    our sex are but foot-cloth Nags: the Ma ster no sooner lights,
    but the man leapes into the saddle.
    1800 Enter Bellafront.
    Bel. Will you sit downe I pray, sir?
    Mat. I could teare (by'th Lord) his fle sh, and eate his
    midriffe in salt, as I eate this: --- mu st I choake --- my
    Father Friscabaldo, I shall make a pittifull Hog-louse of you
    1805 Orlando, if you fall once into my fingers --- Here's the sauo-
    re st meat: I ha got a stomacke with cha sing. What Rogue
    should tell him of those two Pedlers? A plague choake him,
    and gnaw him to the bare bones: come fill.
    Bel. Thou sweate st with very anger, good sweet, vex not,
    1810'las, 'tis no fault of mine.
    Mat. Where did st buy this Mutton? I neuer felt better
    ribbes.
    Bel. A neighbour sent it me.
    Enter Orlando.
    1815 Mat. Hah, neighbour? foh, my mouth stinkes, you whore,
    doe you beg victuals for me? Is this Sattin doublet to bee
    bumba sted with broken meat? Takes vp the stoole.
    Orl. What will you doe, sir?
    Mat. Beat out the braines of a beggerly-- Exit Beliafront.
    1820 Orl. Beat out an A s s es head of your owne; away, Mi stris.
    Zownds, doe but touch one haire of her, and Ile so quilt
    your cap with old Iron, that your coxcombe shall ake the
    worse these seuen yeeres for't: Does she looke like a roa sted
    Rabbet, that you mu st haue the head for the braines?
    1825 Mat. Ha, ha: Goe out of my doores, you Rogue, away,
    foure markes trudge.
    Orl. Foure markes? no, sir, my twenty pound that you ha
    made flie hie, and I am gone.
    Mat. Mu st I be fed with chippings? y'are be st get a clap-
    1830di sh, and say y'are Proctor to some Spittle-house. Where
    ha st thou beene, Pacheco? come hither my little Turky-
    cocke.
    Orl. I cannot abide, sir, to see a woman wrong'd, not I.
    Mat. Sirra, here was my Father-in-law to day.
    1835 Orl. Pi sh, then y'are full of Crownes.
    Mat. Hang him, he would ha thru st crownes vpon me, to
    haue falne in againe, but I scorne ca st-cloathes, or any mans
    gold.
    Orl. But mine: how did he brooke that ( sir?)
    1840 Mat. Oh: swore like a dozen of drunken Tinkers; at la st
    growing foule in words, he and foure of his men drew vp-
    on me, sir.
    Orl. In your house? wud I had bin by.
    Mat. I made no more adoe, but fell to my old locke, and
    1845 so thra shed my blue Coates, and old crabtree-face my fa-
    ther-in-law, and then walkt like a Lion in my grate.
    Orl. Oh Noble Ma ster!
    Mat. Sirra, he could tell me of the robbing the two
    Pedlers, and that warrants are out for vs both.
    1850 Orl. Good, sir, I like not those crackers.
    Mat. Crack halter, wut set thy foot to mine?
    Orl. How, sir? at drinking.
    Mat. We'll pull that old Crow my Father: rob thy Ma-
    ster. I know the house, thou the seruants: the purchase is
    1855rich, the plot to get it ea sie, the Dog will not part from a
    bone.
    Orl. Pluck't out of his throat then: Ile snarle for one, if
    this can bite.
    Mat. Say no more, say no more, old cole, meet me anon at
    1860the signe of the Shipwracke.
    Orl. Yes, sir.
    Mat. And do st heare, man?-- the Shipwracke. Exit.
    Orl. Th'art at the Shipwracke now, and like a swimmer
    Bold (but vnexpert) with those waues doe st play,
    1865Whose dalliance (whorelike) is to ca st thee away.
    Enter Hipollito and Bellafront.
    Orl. And here's another Ve s s ell, (better fraught,
    But as ill man'd) her sinking will be wraught,
    If rescue come not: like a Man of warre
    1870Ile therefore brauely out: somewhat Ile doe,
    And either saue them both, or peri sh too. Exit.
    Hip. It is my fate to be bewitched by those eyes.
    Bel. Fate? your folly.
    Why should my face thus mad you? 'las, those colours
    1875Are wound vp long agoe, which beauty spred,
    The flowres that once grew here, are withered.
    You turn'd my blacke soule white, made it looke new,
    And should I sinne, it ne'r should be with you.
    Hip. Your hand, Ile offer you faire play: When fir st
    1880We met i'th Li sts together, you remember
    You were a common Rebell; with one parlee
    I won you to come in.
    Bel. You did.
    Hip. Ile try
    1885If now I can beate downe this Cha stity
    With the same Ordnance; will you yeeld this Fort,
    If with the power of Argument now (as then)
    I get of you the conque st: as before
    I turnd you hone st, now to turne you whore,
    1890By force of strong perswa sion?
    Bell. If you can,
    I yeeld.
    Hip. The allarm's strucke vp: I'm your man.
    Bel. A woman giues defiance.
    1895 Hip. Sit.
    Bel. Beginne:
    'Tis a braue battaile to encounter sinne.
    Hip. You men that are to fight in the same warre,
    To which I'm pre st, and pleade at the same barre,
    1900To winne a woman, if you wud haue me speed,
    Send all your wi shes.
    Bel. No doubt y'are heard, proceede.
    Hip. To be a Harlot, that you stand vpon,
    The very name's a charme to make you one.
    1905Harlot was a Dame of so diuine
    And raui shing touch, that she was Concubine
    To an Engli sh King: her sweet bewitching eye
    Did the Kings heart- strings in such loue-knots tye,
    That euen the coye st was proud when she could heare
    1910Men say, Behold; another Harlot there;
    And after her all women that were faire
    Were Harlots call'd, as to this day some are:
    Be sides her dalliance, she so well does mix,
    That she's in Latine call'd the Meretrix.
    1915Thus for the name; for the profe s sion, this,
    Who liues in bondage, liues lac'd, the chiefe bli s s e
    This world below can yeeld, is liberty:
    And who (than whores) with looser wings dare flie?
    As Iunoes proud bird spreads the faire st taile,
    1920So does a Strumpet hoi st the loftie st saile.
    She's no mans slaue; (men are her slaues) her eye
    Moues not on wheeles screwd vp with Iealow sie.
    She (Hor st, or Coacht) does merry iourneys make,
    Free as the Sunne in his gilt Zodiake:
    1925As brauely does she shine, as fa st she's driuen,
    But staies not long in any house of Heauen:
    But shifts from Signe, to Signe, her amorous prizes
    More rich being when she's downe, then when she rizes.
    In briefe, Gentlemen haunt them, Soldiers fight for them,
    1930Few men but know them, few or none abhorre them:
    Thus (for sport sake) speake I, as to a woman,
    Whom (as the wor st ground) I would turne to common:
    But you I would enclose for mine owne bed.
    Bel. So should a husband be di shonoured.
    1935 Hip. Di shonoured? not a whit: to fall to one
    (Be sides your husband) is to fall to none,
    For one no number is.
    Bel. Faith, should you take
    One in your bed, would you that reckoning make?
    1940'Tis time you sound retreate.
    Hip. Say, haue I wonne,
    Is the day ours?
    Bel. The battaile's but halfe done,
    None but your selfe haue yet sounded alarmes,
    1945Let vs strike too, else you di shonour armes.
    Hip. If you can win the day,
    The glorie's yours.
    Bel. To proue a woman should not be a whore,
    When she was made, she had one man, and no more,
    1950Yet she was tied to lawes then, for (ouen than)
    'Tis said, she was not made for men, but man.
    Anon, t'increase earths brood, the law was varied,
    Men should take many wiues: and tho they married
    According to that Act, yet 'tis not knowne,
    1955But that those wiues were onely tied to one.
    New Parliaments were since: for now one woman
    Is shared betweene three hundred, nay she's common;
    Common? as spotted Leopards, whom for sport
    Men hunt, to get the fle sh, but care not for't.
    1960So spread they Nets of gold, and tune their Calls,
    To inchaunt silly women to take falls:
    Swearing they are Angels, (which that they may win)
    They'll hire the Deuill to come with false Dice in.
    Oh Sirens suttle tunes! your selues you flatter,
    1965And our weake sex betray, so men loue water;
    It serues to wa sh their hands, but (being once foule)
    The water downe is powred, ca st out of doores,
    And euen of such base vse doe men make whores.
    A Harlot (like a Hen) more sweetnes reapes,
    1970To picke men one by one vp, then in heapes:
    Yet all feeds but confounding. Say you should ta ste me,
    I serue but for the time, and when the day
    Of warre is done, am ca sheerd out of pay:
    If like lame Soldiers I could beg, that's all,
    1975And there's lu sts Rendez-vous, an Hospitall.
    Who then would be a mans slaue, a mans woman?
    She's halfe starn'd the fir st day that feeds in Common.
    Hip. You should not feed so, but with me alone.
    Bel. If I drinke poison by stealth, is't not all one?
    1980Is't not ranke poison still? with you alone!
    Nay say you spide a Curtezan, whose soft side
    To touch, you'd sell your birth-right for one ki s s e,
    Be rack'd, she's won, y'are sated: what followes this?
    Oh, then you curse that Bawd that toald you in,
    1985(The Night) you curse your lu st, you loath the sin,
    You loath her very sight, and ere the day
    Arise, you rise glad when y'are stolne away.
    Euen then when you are drunke with all her sweets,
    There's no true pleasure in a Strumpets sheetes.
    1990Women, whom Lu st so pro stitutes to sale,
    Like Dancers vpon ropes; once seene, are stale.
    Hip. If all the threds of Harlots lyues are span,
    So coorse as you would make them, tell me why
    You so long loued the trade?
    1995 Bel. If all the threds
    Of Harlots lyues be fine as you would make them,
    Why doe not you perswade your wife turne whore,
    And all Dames else to fall [illeg.] befere that sin?
    Like an ill husband (tho I knew the same,
    2000To be my vndoing) followed I that game.
    Oh when the worke of Lu st had earn'd my bread,
    To ta ste it, how I trembled, le st each bit,
    Ere it went downe, should choake me (chewing it?)
    My bed seem'd like a Cabin hung in Hell,
    2005The Bawde Hells Porter, and the lickori sh wine
    The Pander fetch'd, was like an ea sie Fine,
    For which, me thought I leas'd away my soule,
    And oftentimes (euen in my quaffing bowle)
    Thus said I to my selfe, I am a whore,
    2010And haue drunke downe thus much confu sion more.
    Hip. It is a common rule, and 'tis mo st true,
    Two of one trade neuer loue; no more doe you.
    Why are you sharpe 'gain st that you once profe st?
    Bel. Why doate you on that, which you did once dete st?
    2015I cannot (seeing she's wouen of such bad stuffe)
    Set colours on a Harlot base enough.
    Nothing did make me, when I loued them be st,
    To loath them more then this: when in the street
    A faire yong mode st Damsell I did meet,
    2020She seem'd to all a Doue (when I pa s s 'd by)
    And I (to all) a Rauen: euery eye
    That followed her, wont with a ba sh full glance
    At me, each bold and ieering countenance
    Darted forth scorne: to her (as if she had bin
    2025Some Tower vnvanqui shed) would they vaile,
    'Gain st me swolne Rumor hoi sted euery saile.
    She (crown'd with reuerend praises) pa s s ed by them,
    I (tho with face maskt) could not scape the hem,
    For (as if Heauen had set strange markes on Whores,
    2030Because they should be pointing stocks to man)
    Dre st vp in ciuile st shape a Curtizan.
    Let her walke Saint-like, notele s s e, and vnknowne,
    Yet she's betraid by some tricke of her owne.
    Were Harlots therefore wise, they'd be sold deare:
    2035For men account them good but for one yeere:
    And then like Almanackes (whose dates are gone)
    They are throwne by, and no more lookt vpon.
    Who'le therefore backward fall, who will lanch forth
    In Seas so foule, for ventures no more worth?
    2040Lu sts voiage hath (if not this course) this cro s s e,
    Buy ne'r so cheape, your Ware comes home with lo s s e.
    What, shall I sound retreat? the battaile's done:
    Let the world iudge which of vs two haue won.
    Hip. I!
    2045 Bel. You? nay then as cowards doe in fight,
    What by blowes cannot, shall be saued by flight. Exit.
    Hip. Flie to earths fixed Center: to the Caues
    Of euerla sting horror, Ile pursue thee,
    (Tho loaden with sinnes) euen to Hells brazen doores.
    2050Thus wise st men turne fooles, doting on whores. Exit.
    Enter the Duke, Lodouico, and Orlando: after them Infaelice.
    Carolo, A stolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell.
    Orl. I beseech your Grace (tho your eye be so piercing) as
    vnder a poore blue Coate, to cull out an hone st Father from
    2055an old Seruingman: yet good my Lord discouer not the plot
    to any, but onely this Gentleman that is now to be an
    Actor in our ensuing Comedy.
    Duke. Thou ha st thy wi sh, Orlando, pa s s e vnknowne,
    Sforsa shall onely goe along with thee,
    2060To see that Warrant serued vpon thy Sonne.
    Lod. To attach him vpon fellony, for 2. Pedlers: is't not so?
    Orl. Right, my Noble Knight: those Pedlers were two
    Knaues of mine; he fleec'd the men before, and now he pur-
    poses to flea the Ma ster. He will rob me, his teeth water to
    2065be nibbling at my gold, but this shal hang him by'th gills, till
    I pull him on shore.
    Duke. Away: ply you the bu sine s s e.
    Orl. Thankes to your Grace: but my good Lord, for my
    Daughter.
    2070 Duke. You know what I haue said.
    Orl. And remember what I haue sworne: She's more ho-
    ne st, on my soule, then one of the Turkes Wenches, watcht
    by a hundred Eunuches.
    Lod. So she had need, for the Turkes make them whores.
    2075 Orl. He's a Turke that makes any woman a Whore, hee's
    no true Chri stian I'm sure. I commit your Grace.
    Duke. Infaelice.
    Infae . Here, sir.
    Lod. Signior Friscabaldo.
    2080 Orl. Frisking agen, Pacheco?
    Lod. Vds so, Pacheco? wee'll haue some sport with this
    Warrant: 'tis to apprehend all suspected persons in the
    house: Be sides, there's one Bots a Pander, and one Madam
    Hor sleach a Bawde, that haue abus'd my friend, those two
    2085Coneyes will we ferret into the pursenet.
    Orl. Let me alone for dabbing them o'th necke: come,
    come.
    Lod. Doe ye heare, Gallants? meet me anon at Matheos.
    Omnes. Enough. Exeunt Lodouico & Orlando.
    2090 Duke. Th' old Fellow sings that note thou did st before,
    Onely his tunes are, that she is no Whore,
    But that she sent his Letters and his gifts,
    Out of a Noble Triumph o're his Lu st,
    To shew she trampled his A s s aults in du st.
    2095 Infae . 'Tis a good hone st seruant, that old man.
    Duke. I doubt no le s s e.
    Infae . And it may be my husband,
    Because when once this woman was vnmaskt,
    He leueld all her thoughts, and made them fit:
    2100Now he'd marre all agen, to try his wit.
    Duke. It may be so too, for to turne a Harlot
    Hone st, it mu st be by strong Antidots,
    'Tis rare, as to see Panthers change their spots.
    And when she's once a Starre (fixed) and shines bright,
    2105Tho 'twere impiety then to dim her light,
    Because we see such Tapers seldome burne.
    Yet 'tis the pride and glory of some men,
    To change her to a blazing Starre agen,
    And it may be, Hipollito does no more.
    2110It cannot be, but y'are acquainted all
    With that same madne s s e of our Sonne-in-law,
    That dotes so on a Curtizan.
    Omnes. Yes, my Lord.
    Car. All the City thinkes he's a Whoremonger.
    2115 A st . Yet I warrant, he'll sweare, no man markes him.
    Ber. 'Tis like so, for when a man goes a wenching, is as if
    he had a strong stincking breath, euery one smells him out,
    yet he feeles it not, tho it be rancker then the sweat of six-
    teene Bearewarders.
    2120 Duke. I doubt then you haue all those stinking breaths,
    You might be all smelt out.
    Car. Troth my Lord, I thinke we are all as you ha bin in
    your youth when you went a Maying, we all loue to heare
    the Cuckoo sing vpon other mens Trees.
    2125 Duke. It's well yet you confe s s e: but Girle, thy bed
    Shall not be parted with a Curtizan--- 'tis strange,
    No frowne of mine, no frowne of the poore Lady,
    (My abused child, his wife) no care of fame,
    Of Honor, Heauen or Hell, no not that name
    2130Of Common Strumpet, can affright, or woo
    Him to abandon her; the Harlot does vndoe him,
    She has bewitched him, robd him of his shape,
    Turnd him into a bea st, his reason's lo st,
    You see he lookes wild, does he not?
    2135 Car. I ha noted new Moones
    In's face, my Lord, all full of change.
    Duke. He's no more life vnto Hipollito,
    Then dead men are to liuing -- neuer sleepes,
    Or if he doe, it's dreames; and in those dreames
    2140His armes worke, -- and then cries--Sweet--what's her
    Name, what's the drabs name?
    A st . In troth, my Lord, I know not,
    I know no drabs, not I.
    Duke. Oh, Bellafront!
    2145And catching her fa st, cries, My Bellafront.
    Car. A drench that's able to kill a Horse, cannot kill this
    disease of Smock-smelling, my Lord, if it haue once eaten
    deepe.
    Duke. Ile try all Phi sicke, and this Med'cine fir st:
    2150I haue directed Warrants strong and peremptory
    (To purge our Citty Millan, and to cure the outward
    Parts, the Suburbes) for the attaching
    Of all those women, who (like gold) want waight,
    Citties (like Ships) should haue no idle fraight.
    2155 Car. No, my Lord, and light wenches are no idle fraight,
    But what's your Graces reach in this?
    Duke. This (Carolo.) If she whom my Son doates on,
    Be in that Ma ster-booke enrold, he'll shame
    Euer t' approach one of such noted name.
    2160 Car. But say she be not?
    Duke. Yet on Harlots heads
    New Lawes shall fall so heauy, and such blowes shall
    Giue to those that haunt them, that Hipollito
    (If not for feare of Law) for loue to her,
    2165If he loue truely, shall her bed forbeare.
    Car. Attach all the light heeles i'th Citty, and clap em vp?
    why, my Lord? you diue into a Well vnsearchable: all the
    Whores within the walls, & without the walls? I would not
    be he should meddle with them for ten such Dukedomes;
    2170the Army that you speake on, is able to fill all the prisons
    within this Citty, and to leaue not a drinking roome in any
    Tauerne be sides.
    Duke. Those onely shall be caught that are of note,
    Harlots in each street flow:
    2175The fi sh being thus i'th net, our selfe will sit,
    And with eye mo st seuere dispose of it. ---come, Girle.
    Car. Araigne the poore Whore.
    A st . Ile not mi s s e that Se s sions.
    Font. Nor I.
    2180 Ber. Nor I,
    Tho I hold vp my hand there my selfe. Exeunt.
    Enter Matheo, Orlando, and Lodouico.
    Mat. Let who will come (my Noble Shauileir) I can but
    play the kind Hoa st, and bid vm welcome.
    2185 Lod. We'll trouble your house (Matheo) but as Dutchmen
    doe in Tauernes (drinke, be merry, and be gone.)
    Orl. Indeed if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to drink-
    ing, you mu st be gone.
    Mat. The wor st is, my wife is not at home; but we'll flie
    2190hie (my generous Knight) for all that: there's no Mu sike
    when a woman is in the consort.
    Orl. No, for she's like a paire of Virginals,
    Alwaies with Iackes at her taile.
    Enter A stolfo, Carolo, Beraldo, Fontinell.
    2195 Lod. See, the Couy is sprung.
    Omnes. Saue you Gallants.
    Mat. Happily encounterd, sweet bloods.
    Lod. Gentlemen, you all know Signior Candido, the Linnen
    Draper, he that's more patient then a browne Baker, vpon
    2200the day when he heates his Ouen, and has forty Scolds a-
    bout him.
    Omnes. Yes, we know him all, what of him?
    Lod. Wud it not be a good fit of mirth, to make a piece
    of Engli sh cloth of him, and to stretch him on the Tainters,
    2205till the threds of his owne naturall humor cracke, by ma-
    king him drinke healths, Tobacco, dance, sing bawdy songs,
    or to run any bias according as we thinke good to ca st him?
    Car. 'Twere a Morris dance worth the seeing.
    A st . But the old Fox is so crafty, we shall hardly hunt out
    2210of his den.
    Mat. To that traine I ha giuen fire already; and the hook
    to draw him hither, is to see certaine pieces of Lawne,
    which I told him I haue to sell, and indeed haue such: fetch
    them downe, Pacheco.
    2215 Orl. Yes, sir, I'm your Water-spanniell, and will fetch any
    thing: but Ile fetch one di sh of meat anon, shall turne your stomacke, and that's a Con stable. Exit.
    Enter Bots v shering Mi stris Hor sleach.
    Omnes. How now? how now?
    2220 Car. What Gally-foi st is this?
    Lod. Peace, two di shes of stew'd prunes, a Bawde and a
    Pander. My worthy Lieutenant Bots; why, now I see th'art
    a man of thy word, welcome; welcome Mi stris Hor sleach:
    Pray Gentlemen, salute this reuerend Matron.
    2225 Hors . Thankes to all your Wor ships.
    Lod. I bade a Drawer send in wine too: did none come
    along with thee (Grannam) but the Lieutenant?
    Hors . None came along with me but Bots, if it like your
    Wor ship.
    2230 Bots. Who the pox should come along with you but Bots?
    Enter two Uintners.
    Omnes. Oh braue! march faire.
    Lod. Are you come? that's well.
    Mat. Here's Ordnance able to sacke a Citty.
    2235 Lod. Come, repeat, read this Inuentory.
    1. Uint. Imprimis, a pottle of Greeke wine, a pottle of
    Peter sa meene, a pottle of Charnico, and a pottle of Zi-
    attica.
    Lod. Y'are paid?
    2240 2. Uint. Yes Sir. Exeunt Vintners.
    Mat. So shall some of vs be anon, I feare.
    Bots. Here's a hot day towards: but zounds, this is the
    life out of which a Soldier sucks sweetne s s e, when this Ar-
    tillery goes off roundly, some mu st drop to the ground: Can-
    2245non, Demy-cannon, Saker, and Basalisk.
    Lod. Giue fire, Lieutenant.
    Bots. So, so: Mu st I venture fir st vpon the breach? to you
    all, Gallants: Bots sets vpon you all.
    Omnes. Its hard (Bots) if we pepper not you, as well as
    2250you pepper vs.
    Enter Candido.
    Lod. My noble Linnen Draper! Some wine: Welcome
    old Lad.
    Mat. Y'are welcome, Signior.
    2255 Cand. These Lawnes, sir?
    Mat. Presently, my man is gone for them: we ha rigged
    a Fleet, you see here, to saile about the world.
    Cand. A dangerous Voyage, sailing in such Ships.
    Bots. There's no ca sting ouer boord yet.
    2260 Lod. Because you are an old Lady, I will haue you be ac-
    quainted with this graue Cittizen, pray be stow your lips
    vpon him, and bid him welcome.
    Hors . Any Cittizen shall be mo st welcome to me:--- I
    haue vsed to buy ware at your shop.
    2265 Cand. It may be so, good Madam.
    Hors . Your Prentices know my dealings well; I tru st
    your good wife be in good case: if it please you, beare her a
    token from my lips, by word of mouth.
    Cand. I pray no more forsooth, 'tis very well, indeed I
    2270loue no sweet meats:---Sh'as a breath stinkes worse then
    fifty Polecats. Sir, a word, is she a Lady?
    Lod. A woman of a good house, and an ancient, shee's a
    Bawde.
    Cand. A Bawde? Sir, Ile steale hence, and see your
    2275Lawnes some other time.
    Mat. Steale out of such company? Pacheco? my man is
    but gone for em: Lieutenant Bots, drinke to this worthy old
    fellow, and teach him to flie hie.
    Omnes. Swagger: and make him doo't on his knees.
    2280 Cand. How, Bots? now ble s s e me, what doe I with Bots?
    no wine in sooth, no wine, good Ma ster Bots.
    Bots. Gray-beard, Goats pizzle: 'tis a health, haue this
    in your guts, or this, there: I will sing a bawdy song, sir, be-
    cause your vergis face is melancholly, to make liquor goe
    2285downe glib: will you fall on your maribones, and pledge
    this health, 'tis to my Mi stris, a whore?
    Cand. Here's Ratsbane vpon Ratsbane: Ma ster Bots, I
    pray, sir, pardon me: you are a Soldier, pre s s e me not to this
    seruice, I am old, and shoot not in such pot-gunnes.
    2290 Bots. Cap, Ile teach you.
    Cand. To drinke healths, is to drinke sickne s s e: Gentle-
    men, pray rescue me.
    Bots. Zounds, who dare?
    Omnes. We shall ha stabbing then?
    2295 Cand. I ha reckonings to ca st vp, good Ma ster Bots.
    Bots. This will make you ca st em vp better.
    Lod. Why does your hand shake so?
    Cand. The pal sie, Signiors, danceth in my blood.
    Bots. Pipe with a pox, sir, then, or Ile make your blood
    2300dance----
    Cand. Hold, hold, good Ma ster Bots, I drinke.
    Omnes. To whom?
    Cand. To the old Counte s s e there.
    Hors . To me, old Boy? this is he that neuer drunke wine:
    2305once agen too't.
    Cand. With much adoe the poison is got downe,
    Tho I can scarce get vp; neuer before
    Dranke I a whores health, nor will neuer more.
    Enter Orlando with Lawnes.
    2310 Mat. Ha st bin at Gallowes?
    Orl. Yes, sir, for I make account to suffer to day.
    Mat. Looke, Signior: here's the Commodity.
    Cand. Your price?
    Mat. Thus.
    2315 Cand. No: too deare: thus.
    Mat. No: O fie, you mu st slie higher: yet take em home,
    trifles shall not make vs quarrell, we'll agree, you shall haue
    them, and a penniworth, Ile fetch money at your shop.
    Cand. Be it so, good Signior, send me going.
    2320 Mat. Going? a deepe bowle of wine for Signior Candido.
    Orl. He wud be going.
    Cand. Ile rather stay, then goe so: stop your Bowle.
    Enter Con stable and Bilmen.
    Lod. How now?
    2325 Bots. Is't Shroue-tuesday, that these Gho sts walke.
    Mat. What's your bu sine s s e, Sir?
    Con st . From the Duke: you are the man wee looke for,
    Signior, I haue Warrant here from the Duke, to apprehend
    you vpon fellony for robbing two Pedlers: I charge you
    2330i'th Dukes name goe quickly.
    Mat. Is the winde turn'd? well: this is that old Wolfe,
    my Father-in-law: seeke out your Mi stris, Sirra.
    Orl. Yes, Sir: as shafts by piecing are made strong,
    So shall thy life be straightned by this wrong. Exit.
    2335 Omnes. In troth we are sorry.
    Mat. Braue men mu st bee cro st, pi sh, it's but Fortunes
    Dice rouing again st me: Come, sir, pray vse me like a Gen-
    tleman, let me not be carried through the streets like a Pa-
    geant.
    2340 Con st . If these Gentlemen please, you shall goe along
    with them.
    Omnes. Bee't so: come.
    Con st . What are you, sir?
    Bots. I, sir? sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the
    2345State has occa sion to ca st vp her accounts: I'm a Soldier.
    Con st . Your name is Bots, is't not?
    Bots. Bots is my name, Bots is knowne to this Company.
    Con st . I know you are, Sir: what's she?
    Bots. A Gentlewoman, my Mother.
    2350 Con st . Take em both along.
    Bots. Me? Sirrr.
    Billmen. And Sirrr.
    Con st . If he swagger, raise the street.
    Bots. Gentlemen, Gentlemen, whither will you drag vs?
    2355 Lod. To the Garden house. Bots, are we euen with you?
    Con st . To Bridewell with em.
    Bots. You will answer this. Exeunt.
    Con st . Better then a challenge, I haue warrant for my
    worke, sir.
    2360 Lod. Wee'll goe before. Exeunt.
    Con st . Pray doe.
    Who, Signior Candido? a Cittizen of your degree consorted
    thus, and reuelling in such a house?
    Cand. Why, sir? what house I pray?
    2365 Con st . Lewd, and defamed.
    Cand. Is't so? thankes, sir: I'm gone.
    Con st . What haue you there?
    Cand. Lawnes which I bought, sir, of the Gentleman
    that keepes the house.
    2370 Con st . And I haue warrant here, to search for such stolne
    Ware: these Lawnes are stolne.
    Cand. Indeed!
    Con st . So he's the Thiefe, you the Receiuer: I'm sorry for
    this chance, I mu st commit you.
    2375 Cand. Me, sir, for what?
    Con st . These Goods are found vpon you, and you mu st
    answer't.
    Cand. Mu st I so?
    Con st . Mo st certaine.
    Cand. Ile send for Bayle.
    2380 Con st .
    I dare not: yet because you are a Cittizen of worth,
    you shall not be made a pointing stocke, but without Guard
    pa s s e onely with my selfe.
    Cand. To Bridewell too?
    Con st . No remedy.
    2385 Cand. Yes, patience: being not mad, they had mee once to
    Bedlam,
    Now I'm drawne to Bridewell, louing no Whores.
    Con st . You will buy Lawne?-- Exeunt.
    Enter at one doore Hipollito; at another, Lodouico, A stolfo,
    2390Carolo, Beraldo, Fontinell.
    Lod. Yonder's the Lord Hipollito, by any meanes leaue
    him and me together: Now will I turne him to a Madman.
    Omnes. Saue you, my Lord. Exeunt.
    Lod. I ha strange newes to tell you.
    2395 Hip. What are they?
    Lod. Your Mare's i'th pound.
    Hip. How's this?
    Lod. Your Nightingale is in a Limebu sh.
    Hip. Ha?
    2400 Lod. Your Puritanicall Hone st Whore sits in a blue gowne.
    Hip. Blue Gowne!
    Lod. She'll chalke out your way to her now: she beats
    chalke.
    Hip. Where, who dares?
    2405 Lod. Doe you know the Bricke-house of Ca stigation, by
    the Riuer side that runnes by Millan: the Schoole where
    they pronounce no letter well but O?
    Hip. I know it not.
    Lod. Any man that has borne Office of Con stable, or any
    2410woman that has falne from a Horse-load to a Cart-load, or
    like an old Hen that has had none but rotten egges in her
    ne st, can direct you to her: there you shall see your Puncke
    among st her back-friends, there you may haue her at your
    will, for there she beates Chalke, or grindes in the Mill, with
    2415a whip deedle, deedle, deedle, deedle; ah little monkey.
    Hip. What Rogue dur st serue that Warrant, knowing I
    loued her?
    Lod. Some Wor shipfull Rascall, I lay my life.
    Hip. Ile beat the Lodgings downe about their eares
    2420That are her Keepers.
    Lod. So you may bring an old house ouer her head.
    Hip. Ile to her----
    Ile to her, stood armed Fiends to guard the doores. Exit.
    Lod. Oh me! what Mon sters are men made by whores?
    2425If this false fire doe Kindle him, there's one Faggot
    More to the bonfire, now to my Bridewell Birds,
    What Song will they sing? Exit.
    Enter Duke, Carolo, A stolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell, three
    or foure Ma sters of Bridewell: Infaelice.
    2430 Duke. Your Bridewell? that the name? for beauty, strength,
    Capacity and forme of ancient building,
    (Be sides the Riuers neighbourhood) few houses
    Wherein we keepe our Court can better it.
    1. Ma ster. Hither from forraigne Courts haue Princes come,
    2435And with our Duke did Acts of State Commence,
    Here that great Cardinall had fir st audience,
    (The graue Campayne,) that Duke dead, his Sonne
    (That famous Prince) gaue free po s s e s sion
    Of this his Palace, to the Cittizens,
    2440To be the poore mans ware-house: and endowed it
    With Lands to'th valew of seuen hundred marke,
    With all the bedding and the furniture, once proper
    (As the Lands then were) to an Hospitall
    Belonging to a Duke of Sauoy. Thus
    2445Fortune can to s s e the World, a Princes Court
    Is thus a prison now.
    Duke. 'Tis Fortunes sport:
    These changes common are: the Wheele of Fate
    Turnes Kingdomes vp, till they fall desolate.
    2450But how are these seuen hundred Markes by'th yeere
    Imployde in this your Worke-house?
    1. Ma ster. Warre and Peace
    Feed both vpon those Lands: when the Iron doores
    Of warres bur st open, from this House are sent
    2455Men furni sht in all Martiall Complement.
    The Moone hath thorow her Bow scarce drawn to'th head,
    (Like to twelue siluer Arrowes) all the Moneths,
    Since 1600. Soldiers went aboord:
    Here Prouidence and Charity play such parts,
    2460The House is like a very Schoole of Arts,
    For when our Soldiers (like Ships driuen from Sea,
    With ribs all broken, and with tatterd sides,)
    Ca st anchor here agen, their ragged backes
    How often doe we couer? that (like men)
    2465They may be sent to their owne Homes agen.
    All here are but one swarme of Bees, and striue
    To bring with wearied thighs honey to the Hiue.
    The sturdy Begger, and the lazy Lowne,
    Gets here hard hands, or lac'd Correction.
    2470The Vagabond growes stay'd, and learnes to 'bey,
    The Drone is beaten well, and sent away
    As other prisons are, (some for the Thiefe,
    Some, by which vndone Credit gets reliefe
    From bridled Debtors; others for the poore)
    2475So this is for the Bawd, the Rogue, and Whore.
    Car. An excellent Teeme of Horse.
    1. Ma ster. Nor is it seene,
    That the whip drawes blood here, to coole the Spleene
    2480Of any rugged Bencher: nor does offence
    Feele smart, or spitefull, or ra sh euidence:
    But pregnant te stimony forth mu st stand,
    Ere Iu stice leaue them in the Beadles hand,
    As Iron, on the Anuill are they laid,
    2485Not to take blowes alone, but to be made
    And fa shioned to some Charitable vse.
    Duke. Thus wholsom' st Lawes spring from the wor st
    abuse.
    Enter Orlando before Bellafront.
    2490 Bel. Let mercy touch your heart- strings (gracious Lord)
    That it may sound like mu sike in the eare
    Of a man desperate, (being i'th hands of Law.)
    Duke. His name?
    Bel. Matheo.
    2495 Duke. For a robbery? where is she? } Exit Bel. & one of the
    Bel. In this House. } Ma sters of Bridewell.
    Duke. Fetch you him hither---
    Is this the Party?
    Orl. This is the Hen, my Lord, that the Cocke (with the
    2500Lordly combe) your Sonne-in-law would crow ouer, and
    tread.
    Duke. Are your two Seruants ready?
    Orl. My two Pedlers are pack'd together, my good Lord.
    Duke. 'Tis well: this day in Iudgement shall be spent,
    2505Vice (like a wound launc'd) mends by puni shment.
    Infae . Let me be gone, my Lord, or stand vnseene;
    'Tis rare when a Iudge strikes, and that none dye,
    And 'tis vnfit then, women should be by.
    1. Ma ster. Wee'll place you, Lady, in some priuat roome.
    2510 Infae . Pray doe so. Exit.
    Orl. Thus nice Dames sweare, it is vnfit their eyes
    Sould view men caru'd vp for Anatomies,
    Yet they'll see all, so they may stand vnseene,
    Many women sure will sinne behind a Skreene.
    2515 Enter Lodouico.
    Lod. Your Sonne (the Lord Hipollito) is entred.
    Duke. Tell him we wi sh his presence. A word Storsa:
    On what wings flew he hither?
    Lod. These, I told him-- his Larke whom he loued, was
    2520a Bridewell Bird, he's mad that this Cage should hold her,
    and is come to let her out.
    Duke. 'Tis excellent: away, goe call him hither. Exit. Lod.
    Enter one of the Gouernours of the House, Bellafront after him
    with Matheo, after him the Con stable. Enter at another
    2525 doore, Lodouico and Hipollito: Orlando steps
    forth and brings in two Pedlers.
    Duke. You are to vs a stranger (worthy Lord)
    'Tis strange to see you here.
    Hip. It is mo st fit,
    2530That where the Sunne goes, Attomyes follow it.
    Duke. Attomyes neither shape, nor honour beare:
    Be you yourselfe, a Sunne-beame to shine cleare.
    Is this the Gentleman? Stand forth & heare your accusation.
    Mat. Ile heare none: I flie hie in that: rather then Kites
    2535 shall seize vpon me, and picke out mine eyes to my face, Ile
    strike my tallons thorow mine owne heart fir st, and spit my
    blood in theirs: I am here for shriuing those two fooles of
    their sinfull packe: when those Iack-dawes haue cawde o-
    uer me, then mu st I cry guilty, or not guilty; the Law has
    2540worke enough already, and therefore Ile put no worke of
    mine into his hands, the Hangman shall ha't fir st, I did pluck
    those Ganders, did rob them.
    Duke. 'Tis well done to confe s s e.
    Mat. Confe s s e and be hanged, and then I flie hie, is't not
    2545 so? that for that a gallowes is the wor st rub that a good
    Bowler can meet with: I stumbled again st such a po st, else
    this night I had plaid the part of a true Sonne in these daies,
    vndone my Father-in-law, with him wud I ha run at leape-
    frogge, and come ouer his gold, tho I had broke his necke
    2550for't: but the poore Salmon Trout is now in the Net.
    Hip. And now the Law mu st teach you to flie hie.
    Mat. Right, my Lord, and then may you flie low; no more
    words, a Mouse, Mum, you are stop'd.
    Bel. Be good to my poore husband, deare my Lords.
    2555 Mat. A s s e, why should st thou pray them to be good to
    me, when no man here is good to one another?
    Duke. Did any hand worke in this theft but yours?
    Mat. O, yes, my Lord, yes:-- the Hangman has neuer
    one Sonne at a birth, his Children alwaies come by couples:
    2560Tho I cannot giue the old dog, my Father, a bone to gnaw,
    the Daughter shall bee sure of a Choke-peare. --Yes, my
    Lord, there was one more that fiddled my fine Pedlers, and
    that was my wife.
    Bel. Alas, I?
    2565 Orl. O euerla sting, supernaturall superlatiue Villaine!
    Omnes. Your wife, Matheo?
    Hip. Sure it cannot be.
    Mat. Oh, Sir, you loue no quarters of Mutton that hang
    vp, you loue none but whole Mutton; she set the robbery, I
    2570perform'd it; she spur'd me on, I gallop'd away.
    Orl. My Lords.
    Bel. My Lords, (fellow giue me speach) if my poore life
    may ransome thine, I yeeld it to the Law,
    Thou hurt' st thy soule (yet wipe st off no offence)
    2575By ca sting blots vpon my Innocence:
    Let not these spare me, but tell truth: no, see
    Who slips his necke out of the misery,
    Tho not out of the mischiefe: let thy Seruant
    That shared in this base Act, accuse me here,
    2580Why should my Husband peri sh, he goe cleare?
    Orl. A god Child, hang thine owne Father.
    Duke. Old fellow, was thy hand in too?
    Orl. My hand was in the Pye, my Lord, I confe s s e it: my
    Mi stris I see, will bring me to the Gallowes, and so leaue me;
    2585but Ile not leaue her so: I had rather hang in a womans com-
    pany, then in a mans; because if we should go to hell together,
    I should scarce be letten in, for all the Deuils are afraid to
    haue any women come among st them, as I am true Thiefe,
    she neither consented to this fellony, nor knew of it.
    2590 Duke. What fury prompts thee on to kill thy wife?
    Mat. It's my humor, Sir, 'tis a fooli sh Bag-pipe that I
    make my selfe merry with: why should I eate hempe-seed
    at the Hangmans thirteene-pence halfe-penny Ordinary,
    and haue this whore laugh at me as I swing, as I totter?
    2595 Duke. Is she a Whore?
    Mat. A sixe-penny Mutton Pa sty, for any to cut vp.
    Orl. Ah, Toad, Toad, Toad.
    Mat. A Barbers Citterne for euery Seruingman to play
    vpon, that Lord, your Sonne, knowes it.
    2600 Hip. I, sir, am I her Bawd then?
    Mat. No, sir, but she's your Whore then,
    Orl. Yea Spider, doe st catch at great Flies?
    Hip. My Whore?
    Mat. I cannot talke, sir, and tell of your Rems, and your
    2605rees, and your whirligigs, and deuices: but, my Lord, I
    found em like Sparrowes in one ne st, billing together, and
    bulling of me, I tooke em in bed, was ready to kill him was
    vp to stab her---
    Hip. Cloze thy ranke Iawes: pardon me, I am vexed,
    2610Thou art a Villaine, a malicious Deuill,
    Deepe as the place where thou art lo st, thou lye st,
    Since I am thus far got into this storme,
    Ile thorow, and thou shalt see Ile thorow vntoucht.
    When thou shalt peri sh in it.
    2615 Enter Infaelice.
    Infae . 'Tis my cue
    To enter now: roome, let my Prize be plaid,
    I ha lurk'd in Cloudes, yet heard what all haue said,
    What Iury more can proue, she has wrong'd my bed,
    2620Then her owne husband, she mu st be puni shed;
    I challenge Law, my Lord, Letters, and Gold, and Iewels
    From my Lord that woman tooke.
    Hip. Again st that blacke-mouthed Deuill, again st Letters,
    and Gold,
    2625And again st a iealous Wife I doe vphold,
    Thus farre her reputation, I could sooner
    Shake the Appenine, and crumble Rockes to du st,
    Then (tho Ioues showre rayned downe) tempt her to lu st.
    Bel. What shall I say?
    2630 Hee discouers himselfe.
    Orl. Say thou art not a Whore, and that's more then
    fifteene women (among st fiue hundred) dare sweare with-
    out lying: this shalt thou say, no let mee say't for thee; thy
    Husband's a Knaue, this Lord's an hone st Man; thou art no
    2635Puncke, this Lady's a right Lady. Pacheco is a Thiefe as his
    Ma ster is, but old Orlando is as true a man as thy Father is:
    I ha seene you flie hie, sir, & I ha seene you flie low, sir, and to
    keepe you from the Gallowes, sir, a blue Coat haue I worne,
    and a Thiefe did I turne, mine owne men are the Pedlers, my
    2640twenty pound did flie hie, sir, your wiues Gowne did flie
    low, sir: whither flie you now, sir? you ha scap'd the Gal-
    lowes, to the Deuill you flie next, sir. Am I right, my Liege?
    Duke. Your Father has the true Phi sicion plaid.
    Mat. And I am now his Patient.
    2645 Hip. And be so still, 'tis a good signe when our cheekes
    blu sh at ill.
    Con st . The Linnen Draper (Signior Candido)
    He whom the Citty tearmes the Patient man,
    Is likewise here for buying of those Lawnes
    2650The Pedlers lo st.
    Infae . Alas good Candido. Exit. Con stable.
    Duke. Fetch him: and when these payments vp are ca st,
    Weigh out your light Gold, but let's haue them la st.
    Enter Candido, and Con stable.
    2655 Duke. In Bridewell, Candido?
    Cand. Yes, my good Lord.
    Duke. What make you here?
    Cand. My Lord, what make you here?
    Duke. I'm here to saue right, and to driue wrong hence.
    2660 Cand. And I to beare wrong here with patience.
    Duke. You ha bought stolne Goods.
    Cand. So they doe say, my Lord,
    Yet bought I them vpon a Gentlemans word,
    And I magine now, as I thought then,
    2665That there be Theeues, but no Theeues Gentlemen.
    Hip. Your Credit's crack'd being here.
    Cand. No more then Gold
    Being crack'd which does his e stimation hold.
    I was in Bedlam once, but was I mad?
    2670They made me pledge Whores healths, but am I bad,
    Because I'm with bad people?
    Duke. Well, stand by,
    If you take wrong, wee'll cure the iniurry.
    Enter Con stable, after them Bots, after him two Beadles, one
    2675 with Hempe, the other with a Beetle.
    Duke. Stay, stay, what's he? a prisoner?
    Con st . Yes, my Lord.
    Hip. He seemes a Soldier?
    Bots. I am what I seeme, Sir, one of Fortunes Ba stards, a
    2680Soldier, and a Gentleman, and am brought in here with
    Ma ster Con stables band of Bilmen, because they face mee
    downe that I liue (like those that keepe Bowling-alleyes)
    by the sinnes of the people, in being a Squire of the body.
    Hip. Oh, an Apple-squire.
    2685 Bots. Yes, sir, that degree of scuruy Squiers, and that I am
    maintained by the be st part that is commonly in a woman,
    by the wor st players of those parts, but I am knowne to all
    this company.
    Lod. My Lord, 'tis true, we all know him, 'tis Lieutenant
    2690 Bots.
    Duke. Bots, and where ha you serued, Bots?
    Bots. In mo st of your hotte st Seruices in the Low-coun-
    tries: at the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted
    vpon't, but 'tis now sound. In Cleueland I mi st but little,
    2695hauing the bridge of my nose broken downe with two
    great stones, as I was scaling a Fort: I ha beene tryed, Sir,
    too, in Gelderland, and scap'd hardly there from being blown
    vp at a Breach: I was fired, and lay i'th Surgeons hands
    for't, till the fall of the leafe following.
    2700 Hip. All this may be, and yet you no Soldier.
    Bots. No Soldier, sir? I hope these are Seruices that your
    proude st Commanders doe venture vpon, and neuer come
    off sometimes.
    Duke. Well, sir, because you say you are a Soldier,
    2705Ile vse you like a Gentleman: make roome there,
    Plant him among st you, we shall haue anon
    Strange Hawkes flie here before vs: if none light on you,
    You shall with freedome take your flight:
    But if you proue a Bird of baser wing,
    2710Wee'll vse you like such Birds, here you shall sing.
    Bots. I wi sh to be tried at no other weapon.
    Duke. Why, is he furni sht with those in plyments?
    1. Ma ster. The Pander is more dangerous to a State,
    Then is the common Thiefe, and tho our lawes
    2715Lie heauier on the Thiefe, yet that the Pander
    May know the Hangmans ruffe should fit him too,
    Therefore he's set to beat Hempe.
    Duke. This does sauour
    Of Iu stice, base st Slaues to base st labour.
    2720Now pray, set open Hell, and let vs see
    The Shee-Deuils that are here.
    Infa. Me thinkes this place
    Should make euen Lais hone st.
    1. Ma ster. Some it turnes good,
    2725But (as some men whose hands are once in blood,
    Doe in a pride spill more) so, some going hence,
    Are (by being here) lo st in more impudence:
    Let it not to them (when they come) appeare,
    That any one does as their Iudge sit here:
    2730But that as Gentlemen you come to see,
    And then perhaps their tongues will walke more free.
    Duke. Let them be mar shall'd in: be couerd all,
    Fellowes, now to make the Sceane more Comicall.
    Car. Will not you be smelt out, Bots.
    2735 Bots. No, your braue st whores haue the wor st noses.
    Enter two of the Ma sters: a Con stable after them, then Dorathea
    Target, braue, after her two Beadles, th'one with a
    wheele, the other with a blue Gowne.
    Lod. Are not you a Bride, forsooth?
    2740 Dor. Say yee?
    Car. He wud know if these be not your Bridemen.
    Dor. Vuh, yes, sir: and looke yee, doe you see the Bride-
    laces that I giue at my wedding, will serue to tye Rosemary
    to both your Coffins when you come from hanging-Scab?
    2745 Orl. Fie, Puncke, fie, fie, fie.
    Dor. Out you stale stinking head of Garlicke, foh, at my
    heeles.
    Orl. My head's clouen.
    Hip. O, let the Gentlewoman alone, she's going to shrift.
    2750 A st . Nay to doe penance.
    Car. I, I, goe Puncke, goe to the Cro s s e and be whipt.
    Dor. Mary mew, mary muffe, mary hang you goodman
    Dog: whipt? doe yee take me for a base Spittle whore? in
    troth Gentlemen, you weare the cloathes of Gentlemen, but
    2755you carry not the mindes of Gentlemen, to abuse a Gentle-
    woman of my fa shion.
    Lod. Fa shion? pox a your fa shions, art not a whore?
    Dor. Goodman Slaue.
    Duke. O fie, abuse her not, let vs two talke,
    2760What mought I call your name, pray?
    Cor. I'm not a shamed of my name, Sir, my name is Mi stris
    Doll Target, a We sterne Gentlewoman.
    Lod. Her Target again st any Pike in Millan.
    Duke. Why is this wheele borne after her?
    2765 1. Ma ster. She mu st spinne.
    Dor. A coorse thred it shall be, as all threds are.
    A st . If you spin, then you'll earne money here too?
    Dor. I had rather get halfe a Crowne abroad, then ten
    Crownes here.
    2770 Orl. Abroad? I thinke so.
    Infae . Doe st thou not weepe now thou art here?
    Dor. Say yee? weepe? yes forsooth, as you did when
    you lo st your Maidenhead: doe you not heare how I weep?
    Sings.
    2775 Lod. Farewell Doll.
    Dor. Farewell Dog. Exit.
    Duke. Pa st shame: pa st penitence, why is that blue Gowne?
    1. Ma ster. Being stript out of her wanton loose attire,
    That Garment she puts on, base to the eye,
    2780Onely to cloath her in humility.
    Duke. Are all the re st like this?
    1. Ma ster. No, my good Lord.
    You see, this Drab swells with a wanton reyne,
    The next that enters has a different straine.
    2785 Duke. Variety is good, let's see the re st. Exit Ma ster.
    Bots. Your Grace sees I'm sound yet, & no Bullets hit me.
    Duke. Come off so, and 'tis well.
    Omnes. Here's the second Me s s e.
    Enter the two Ma sters, after them the Con stable, after him
    2790Penelope Whore-hound, like a Cittizens wife, after her two
    Beadles, one with a blue Gowne, another with
    Chalke and a Mallet.
    Pen. I'ha worne many a co stly Gowne, but I was neuer
    thus guarded with blue Coats, and Beadles, and Con stables,
    2795and ----
    Car. Alas faire Mi stris, spoyle not thus your eyes.
    Pen. Oh sweet sir, I feare the spoyling of other places a-
    bout me that are dearer then my eyes; if you be Gentlemen,
    if you be men, or euer came of a woman, pitty my case, stand
    2800to me, sticke to me, good sir, you are an old man.
    Orl. Hang not on me, I prethee, old Trees beare no such
    fruit.
    Pen. Will you bayle me, Gentlemen?
    Lod. Bayle thee, art in for debt?
    2805 Pen. No -- is my Iudge, sir, I am in for no debts, I payd
    my Taylor for this Gowne, the la st fiue shillings a weeke
    that was behind, ye sterday.
    Duke. What is your name, I pray?
    Pen. Penelope Whore-hound, I come of the Whore-hounds.
    2810How does Lieutenant Bots.
    Omnes. A ha Bots.
    Bots. A very hone st woman, as I'm a Soldier, a pox Bots ye.
    Pen. I was neuer in this pickle before, and yet if I goe a-
    mong st Cittizens wiues, they ieere at me: if I goe among
    2815the Loose-bodied Gownes, they cry a pox on me, because I
    goe ciuilly attyred, and sweare their trade was a good
    trade, till such as I am tooke it out of their hands: good
    Lieutenant Bots, speake to these Captaines to bayle me.
    1. Ma ster. Begging for bayle still? you are a trim go s sip, goe
    2820giue her the blue Gowne, set her to her chare, worke Hus-
    wife, for your bread, away.
    Pen. Out you Dog, a pox on you all, women are borne to
    curse thee, but I shall liue to see twenty such flat-caps sha-
    king Dice for a penny-worth of Pippins: out, you blue-eyed
    2825Rogue. Exit.
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha.
    Duke. Euen now she wept, and praid, now does she curse?
    1. Ma ster. Seeing me: if still she had staid, this had beene
    worse.
    2830 Hip. Was she euer here before?
    1. Ma ster. Fiue times at lea st,
    And thus if men come to her, haue her eyes wrung, and
    wept out her bayle.
    Omnes. Bots, you know her?
    2835 Bots. Is there any Gentleman here, that knowes not a
    Whore, and is he a haire the worse for that?
    Duke. Is she a Citty-dame, she's so attyred?
    1. Ma ster. No, my good Lord, that's onely but the vaile
    To her loose body, I haue seene her here
    2840In gayer Masking Suits, as seuerall Sawces
    Giue one Di sh seuerall Ta stes, so change of Habits
    In Whores is a bewitching Art: to day she's all in
    Colours to besot Gallants, then in mode st blacke,
    To catch the Cittizen, and this from their Examinations
    2845Drawne, now shall you see a Mon ster both in shape
    And nature quite from these, that sheds no teare,
    Nor yet is nice, 'tis a plaine ramping Beare,
    Many such Whales are ca st vpon this Shore.
    Omnes. Let's see her.
    2850 1. Ma ster. Then behold a swaggering Whore. Exit.
    Orl. Keep your grownd, Bots.
    Bots. I doe but trauerse to spy aduantage how to arme
    my selfe.
    Enter the two Ma sters fir st, after them the Con stable, after them a
    2855 Beadle beating a Bason, then Catyryna Bountinall, with
    Mi stris Hor sleach, after them another Beadle with a
    blue head guarded with yellow.
    Cat. Sirra, when I cry hold your hands, hold, you Rogue-
    Catcher, hold: Bawd, are the French Chilblaines in your
    2860heeles, that you can come no fa ster? are not you (Bawd) a
    Whores Ancient, and mu st not I follow my Colours?
    Hors . O Mi stris Katherine, you doe me wrong to accuse
    mee here as you doe, before the right Wor shipfull: I am
    knowne for a motherly hone st woman, and no Bawd.
    2865 Cat. Mary foh, hone st? burnt at fourteene, seuen times
    whipt, sixe times carted, nine times duck'd, search'd by
    some hundred and fifty Con stables, and yet you are hone st?
    Hone st Mi stris Hor sleach, is this World, a World to keepe
    Bawds and Whores hone st? How many times ha st thou
    2870giuen Gentlemen a quart of wine in a gallon pot? how ma-
    ny twelue-penny Fees, nay two shillings Fees, nay, when
    any Emba s s adours ha beene here, how many halfe crowne
    Fees ha st thou taken? how many Carriers ha st thou bribed
    for Country Wenches? how often haue I rin st your lungs
    2875in Aquauitae , and yet you are hone st?
    Duke. And what were you the while st?
    Cat. Mary hang you, Ma ster Slaue, who made you an
    examiner?
    Lod. Well said, belike this Deuill spares no man.
    2880 Cat. What art thou prethee?
    Bots. Nay what art thou prethee?
    Cat. A Whore, art thou a Thiefe?
    Bots. A Thiefe, no, I defie the calling, I am a Soldier,
    haue borne Armes in the Field, beene in many a hot Skyr-
    2885mi sh, yet come off sound.
    Cat. Sound with a pox to yee, yee abominable Rogue!
    you a Soldier? you in Skirmi shes? where? among st pottle
    pots in a Bawdy-house? Looke, looke here, you Madam
    Wormeaten, doe not you know him?
    2890 Hors . Lieutenant Bots, where haue yee beene this many a
    day?
    Bots. Old Bawd, doe not discredit me, seeme not to
    know me.
    Hors . Not to know yee, Ma ster Bots? as long as I haue
    2895breath, I cannot forget thy sweet face.
    Duke. Why, doe you know him? he saies he is a Sol-
    dier.
    Cat. He a Soldier? a Pander, a Dog that will licke vp sixe
    pence: doe yee heare, you Ma ster Swines snout, how long is't
    2900 since you held the doore for me, and cried too't agen, no
    body comes, yee Rogue you?
    Omnes. Ha, ha, ha, y'are smelt out agen, Bots.
    Bots. Pox ruyne her nose for't, and I be not reuenged for
    this --vm yee Bitch.
    2905 Lod. Dee yee heare yee Madam? why does your Ladi ship
    swagger thus? y'are very braue, me thinkes.
    Cat. Not at your co st, Ma ster Cods-head,
    Is any man here bleare-eyed to see me braue?
    A st . Yes, I am,
    2910Because good Cloathes vpon a Whores backe
    Is like faire painting vpon a rotten wall.
    Cat. Mary muffe Ma ster Whorema ster, you come vpon
    me with sentences.
    Ber. By this light has small sence for't.
    2915 Lod. O fie, fie, doe not vex her.
    And yet me thinkes a creature of more scuruy conditions
    Should not know what a good Petticoate were.
    Cat. Mary come out,
    Y'are so bu sie about my Petticoate, you'll creepe vp to my
    2920placket, and yee cood but attaine the honour, but and the
    out sides offend your Rogue ships, looke o'the lining, 'tis
    Silke.
    Duke. Is't Silke 'tis lined with then?
    Cat. Silke? I Silke, Ma ster Slaue, you wud bee glad to
    2925wipe your nose with the skirt on't: this 'tis to come a-
    mong a company of Cods-heads that know not how to vse
    a Gentlewoman.
    Duke. Tell her the Duke is here.
    1. Ma ster. Be mode st, Kata, the Duke is here.
    2930 Cat. If the Deuill were here, I care not: set forward, yee
    Rogues, and giue attendance according to your places, let
    Bawds and Whores be sad, for Ile sing and the Deuill were
    a dying. Exeunt.
    Duke. Why before her does the Bason ring?
    2935 1. Ma ster. It is an emblem of their reuelling,
    The whips we vse lets forth their wanton blood,
    Making them calme, and more to calme their pride,
    In stead of Coaches they in Carts doe ride.
    Will your Grace see more of this bad Ware?
    2940 Duke. No, shut vp shop, wee'll now breake vp the faire,
    Yet ere we part -- you, sir, that take vpon yee
    The name of Soldier, that true name of worth,
    Which, action not vaine boa sting be st sets forth,
    To let you know how farre a Soldiers name
    2945Stands from your title, and to let you see,
    Soldiers mu st not be wrong'd where Princes be:
    This bee your sentence.
    Omnes. Defend your selfe, Bots.
    Duke. Fir st, all the priuat sufferance that the house
    2950Inflicts vpon Offenders, you (as the base st)
    Shall vndergoe it double, after which
    You shall bee whipt, sir, round about the Citty,
    Then bani sht from the Land.
    Bots. Beseech your Grace.
    2955 Duke. Away with him, see it done, Panders and Whores
    Are Citty-plagues, which being kept aliue,
    Nothing that lookes like goodnes ere can thriue.
    Now good Orlando, what say you to your bad Sonne-in-law?
    Orl. Mary this, my Lord, he is my Sonne-in-law, and in
    2960law will I be his Father: for if law can pepper him, he shall
    be so parboild, that he shall stinke no more i'th nose of the
    Common-wealth.
    Bel. Be yet more kinde and mercifull, good Father.
    Orl. Doe st thou beg for him, thou precious mans meat,
    2965thou? has he not beaten thee, kickt thee, trod on thee, and
    doe st thou fawne on him like his Spanniell? has hee not
    pawnd thee to thy Petticoate, sold thee to thy smock, made
    yee leape at a cru st, yet wood st haue me saue him?
    Bel. Oh yes, good sir, women shall learne of me,
    2970To loue their husbands in greate st misery,
    Then shew him pitty, or you wracke my selfe.
    Orl. Haue yee eaten Pigeons that y'are so kinde-hearted
    to your Mate? Nay, y'are a couple of wilde Beares, Ile
    haue yee both baited at one stake: but as for this Knaue, the
    2975Gallowes is thy due, and the Gallowes thou shalt haue, Ile
    haue iu stice of the Duke, the Law shall haue thy life, what,
    doe st thou hold him? let goe his hand: if thou doe st not for-
    sake him, a Fathers euerla sting ble s sing fall vpon both your
    heads: away, goe, ki s s e out of my sight, play thou the
    2980Whore no more, nor thou the Thiefe agen, my house shall be thine, my meate shall
    be thine, and so shall my wine, but
    my money shall bee mine, and yet when I die, (so thou doe st
    not flie hie) take all, yet good Matheo, mend.
    Thus for ioy weepes Orlando, and doth end.
    2985 Duke. Then heare, Matheo: all your woes are stayed
    By your good Father-in-law: all your Ills
    Are cleare purged from you by his working pills.
    Come Signior Candido, these greene yong wits
    (We see by Circum stance) this plot hath laid,
    2990Still to prouoke thy patience, which they finde
    A wall of Bra s s e, no Armour's like the minde;
    Thou ha st taught the Citty patience, now our Court
    Shall be thy Spheare, where from thy good report,
    Rumours this truth vnto the world shal sing,
    2995A Patient man's a Patterne for a King. Exeunt.
    FINIS .