603Bell. Oh my sweet Husband, wert thou in thy graue, and

604art aliue agen? O welcome, welcome.

605Mat. Doest know me? my cloake prethee lay't vp. Yes

606faith, my winding sheete was taken out of Lauender, to be

607stucke with Rosemary, I lackt but the knot here, or here;

608yet if I had had it, I should ha made a wry mou h at the

609world like a Playse: but sweetest villaine, I am here now, and

610I will talke with thee soone.

611Bel. And glad am I th'art here.

612Mat. Did these heeles caper in shackles? A my little

613plumpe rogue, Ile beare vp for all this, and flye hye. Catzo

614Catzo.

615Bel. Matheo?

616Mat. What sayest, what sayest? Oh braue fresh ayre, a pox

617on these Grates and gingling of Keyes, and rattling of Iron,

618Ile beare vp, Ile flye hye wench, hang Tosse.

619Bel. Matheo, prethee make thy prison thy glasse,

620And in it view the wrinkles, and the scarres,

621By which thou wert disfigured, viewing them, mend them.

622Mat. Ile goe visit all the mad rogues now, and the good

623roaring boyes.

624Bel. Thou doest not heare me?

625Mat. Yes faith doe I.

626Bel. Thou hast beene in the hands of misery, and tane strong

627Physicke, prethee now be sound.

628Mat. Yes. S'foot, I wonder how the inside of a Tauerne

629lookes now. Oh when shall I bizle, bizle?

630Bel. Nay see, th'art thirsty still for poyson, come, I will

631not haue thee swagger.

632Mat. Honest Apes face.

633Bel. 'Tis that sharpned an axe to cut thy throate.

634Good Loue, I would not haue thee sell thy substance

635And time (worth all) in those damned shops of Hell;

636Those Dycing houses, that stand neuer well,

637But when they stand most ill, that foure-squared sinne

638Has almost lodg'd vs in the beggers Inne.

639Besides (to speake which euen my soule does grieue)

640A sort of Rauens haue hung vpon thy sleeue,

641And fed vpon thee: good Mat. (if you please) so base as

642Scorne to spread wing amongst these;

643By them thy fame is speckled, yet it showes

644Cleare amongst them; so Crowes are faire with Crowes.

645Custome in sinne, giues sinne a louely dye.

646Blacknesse in Mores is no deformity.

647Mat. Bellafront, Bellafront, I protest to thee, I sweare, as I

648hope my soule, I will turne ouer a new leafe, the prison I 649confesse has bit me, the best man that sayles in such a Ship, 650may be lowsy.

651Bel. One knockes at doore.

652Mat. Ile be the Porter: they shall see, a Iayle cannot hold

653a braue spirit, Ile flye hye. Exit.

654Bel. How wilde is his behauiour! oh, I feare

655He's spoyld by prison, he's halfe damned comes there,

656But I must sit all stormes: when a full sayle his

657Fortunes spred, he loued me: being now poore,

658Ile beg for him, and no wife can doe more.

660Mat. Come in pray, would you speake with me, sir?

661Orl. Is your name Signior Matheo?

662Mat. My name is Signior Matheo.

663Orl. Is this Gentlewoman your wife, sir?

664Mat. This Gentlewoman is my wife, sir.

665Orl. The Destinies spin a strong and euen thread of both

666your loues: the Mothers owne face, I ha not forgot that, I'm

667an old man, sir, & am troubled with a whoreson salt rhewme,

668that I cannot hold my water. Gentlewoman, the last man I

669serued was your Father.

670Bel. My Father? any tongue that sounds his name,

671Speakes Musicke to me: welcome good old man.

672How does my father? liues he? has he health?

673How does my father? I so much doe shame him,

674So much doe wound him, that I scarce dare name him.

675Orl. I can speake no more.

676Mat. How now old Lad, what doest cry?

677Orl The rhewme still, sir, nothing else; I should be well

678seasond, for mine eyes lye in brine: looke you, sir, I haue a 679suite to you.

680Math. What is't my little white pate?

681Orl. Troth, sir, I haue a mind to serue your Worship.

682Mat. To serue me? Troth, my friend, my fortunes are, as

683a man may say----

684Orl. Nay looke you, sir, I know when all sinnes are old

685in vs, and goe vpon Crutches, that Couetousnesse does but

686then lie in her Cradle; 'Tis not so with me. Letchery loues

687to dwell in the fairest lodging, and Couetousnesse in the 688oldest buildings, that are ready to fall: but my white head,

689sir, is no Inne for such a gossip. If a Seruingman at my yeeres

690be not stored with bisket enough, that has sayled about the

691world to serue him the voyage out of his life, and to bring

692him East-home; Ill pitty but all his daies should be fasting 693daies: I care not so much for wages, for I haue scraped a

694handfull of gold together; I haue a little money, sir, which

695I would put into your Worships hands, not so much to

696make it more.

697Mat. No, no, you say well, thou sayest well; but I must

698tell you: How much is the money, sayest thou?

699Orl. About twenty pound, Sir.

700Mat. Twenty pound? Let me see: that shall bring thee in,

701after ten per centum, per annum.

702Orl. No, no, no, sir, no; I cannot abide to haue money in-

703gender: fye vpon this siluer Lechery, fye; if I may haue

704meat to my mouth, and rags to my backe, and a flock-bed

705to snort vpon, when I die, the longer liuer take all.

706Mat. A good old Boy, yfaith, if thou seruest me, thou shalt

707eat as I eat, drinke as I drinke, lye as I lye, and ride as I ride.

708Orl. That's if you haue money to hire horses.

709Mat. Front. What doest thou thinke on't? This good old

710Lad here shall serue me.

711Bel. Alas, Matheo, wilt thou load a backe

712That is already broke?

713Mat. Peace, pox on you, peace, there's a tricke in't, I

714flye hye, it shall be so, Front. as I tell you: giue me thy hand,

715thou shalt serue me yfaith: welcome: as for your money--

716Orl. Nay, looke you sir, I haue it here.

717Mat. Pesh, keepe it thy selfe, man, and then th'art sure 'tis

718safe.

719Orl. Safe! and 'twere ten thousand Duckets, your Worship

720should be my cash-keeper; I haue heard what your Wor-

721ship is, an excellent dunghill Cocke, to scatter all abroad:

722but Ile venture twenty pounds on's head.

723Mat. And did'st thou serue my Worshipfull Father-in-

724law, Signior Orlando Friscabaldo, that mad man once?

725Orl. I serued him so long, till he turned me out of doores.

726Mat. It's a notable Chuffe, I ha not seene him many a day.

727Orl. No matter and you ne'r see him: it's an arrant Gran-

728dy, a Churle, and as damnd a cut-throat.

729Bel. Thou villaine, curb thy tongue, thou art a Iudas,

730To sell thy Masters name to slander thus.

731Mat. Away Asse, he speakes but truth, thy father is a--

732Bel. Gentleman.

733Mat. And an old knaue, there's more deceit in him then

734in sixteene Poticaries: it's a Deuill, thou maist beg, starue,

735hang, damne; does he send thee so much as a cheese?

736Orl. Or so much as a Gammon of Bacon,

737Hee'll giue it his Dogs first.

738Mat. A Iayle, a Iayle.

739Orl. A Iew, a Iew, sir.

740Mat. A Dog.

741Orl. An English Mastiffe, sir.

742Mat. Pox rot out his old stinking garbage.

743Bel. Art not ashamed to strike an absent man thus?

744Art not ashamed to let this vild Dog barke,

745And bite my Father thus? Ile not indure it;

746Out of my doores, base slaue.

747Mat. Your dores! a vengeance? I shall liue to cut that old

748rogues throat, for all you take his part thus.

749Orl. He shall liue to see thee hangd first.

751Mat. Gods so my Lord, your Lordship is most welcome,

752I'm proud of this, my Lord.

753Hip. Was bold to see you.

754Is that your wife?

755Mat. Yes sir.

756Hip. Ile borrow her lip.

757Mat. With all my heart, my Lord.

758Orl. Who's this, I pray sir?

759Mat. My Lord Hipollito: what's thy name?

760Orl. Pacheco.

761Mat. Pacheco, fine name; Thou seest, Pacheco, I keepe

762company with no Scondrels, nor base fellowes.

763Hip. Came not my Footman to you?

764Bel. Yes my Lord.

765Hip. I sent by him a Diamond and a Letter,

766Did you receiue them?

767Bel. Yes my Lord, I did.

768Hip. Read you the letter?

769Bel. O're and o're 'tis read.

770Hip. And faith your answer?

771Bel. Now the time's not fit,

772You see, my Husbands here.

773Hip. Ile now then leaue you,

774And choose mine houre; but ere I part away,

775Harke, you remember I must haue no nay.

776Matheo, I will leaue you.

777Mat. A glasse of wine.

778Hip. Not now, Ile visit you at other times.

779Y'are come off well then?

780Mat. Excellent well, I thanke your Lordship: I owe you

781my life, my Lord; and will pay my best blood in any seruice

782of yours.

783Hip. Ile take no such deare payment, harke you Matheo,

784I know, the prison is a gulfe, if money runne low with you,

785my purse is yours: call for it.

786Mat. Faith my Lord, I thanke my starres, they send me

787downe some; I cannot sinke, so long as these bladders hold.

788Hip. I will not see your fortunes ebbe, pray try.

789To starue in full barnes were fond modesty.

790Mat. Open the doore, sirra.

791Hip. Drinke this, and anon I pray thee giue thy Mistris

792this. Exit.

793Orl. O Noble Spirit, if no worse guests here dwell,

794My blue coate sits on my old shoulders well.

795Mat. The onely royall fellow, he's bounteous as the Indies,

796what's that he said to thee, Bellafront?

797Bel. Nothing.

798Mat. I prethee good Girle?

799Bel. Why I tell you nothing.

800Mat. Nothing? it's well: trickes, that I must be behol-

801den to a scald hot-liuerd gotish Gallant, to stand with my

802cap in my hand, and vaile bonnet, when I ha spred as lofty

803sayles as himselfe, wud I had beene hanged. Nothing? Pa-

804checo, brush my cloake.

805Orl. Where is't, sir?

806Mat. Come, wee'll flye hye.

807Nothing? there is a whore still in thine eye. Exit.

808Orl. My twenty pounds flyes high, O wretched woman,

809This varlot's able to make Lucrece common.

810How now Mistris? has my Master dyed you into this sad

811colour?

812Bel. Fellow, be gone I pray thee; if thy tongue itch after

813talke so much, seeke out thy Master, th'art a fit instrument

814for him.

815Orl. Zownes, I hope he will not play vpon me?

816Bel. Play on thee? no, you two will flye together,

817Because you are rouing arrowes of one feather.

818Would thou wouldst leaue my house, thou ne'r shalt

819Please, me weaue thy nets ne'r so hye,

820Thou shalt be but a spider in mine eye.

821Th'art ranke with poyson, poyson temperd well,

822Is food for health; but thy blacke tongue doth swell

823With venome, to hurt him that gaue thee bread,

824To wrong men absent, is to spurne the dead.

825And so did'st thou thy Master, and my Father.

826Orl. You haue small reason to take his part; for I haue

827heard him say fiue hundred times, you were as arrant a

828whore as euer stiffned tiffany neckcloathes in water-starch

829vpon a Saturday 'ith afternoone.

830Bel. Let him say worse, when for the earths offence

831Hot vengeance through the marble cloudes is driuen,

832Is't fit earth shoot agen those darts at heauen?

833Orl. And so if your Father call you whore, you'll not call

834him old knaue: Friscabaldo, she carries thy mind vp and

835downe; she's thine owne flesh, blood, and bone; troth Mi-

836stris, to tell you true, the fireworkes that ran from me vpon

837lines against my good old Master, your father, were but to

838try how my young Master, your Husband loued such squibs:

839but 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

841for him, drudge for you; Ile flye low, and Ile flye hye (as

842my Master saies) to doe you good, if you'll forgiue me.

843Bel. I am not made of marble: I forgiue thee.

844Orl. Nay, if you were made of marble, a good Stone-

845cutter might cut you: I hope the twenty pound I deliuered

846to my Master, is in a sure hand.

847Bel. In a sure hand I warrant thee for spending.

848Orl. I see my yong Master is a madcap, and a bonus socius,

849I loue him well, Mistris: yet as well as I loue him, Ile not

850play the knaue with you; looke you, I could cheat you of

851this purse full of money; but I am an old Lad, and I scorne

852to cunny-catch: yet I ha beene Dog at a Cony in my time.

853Bel. A purse, where hadst it?

854Orl. The Gentleman that went away, whisperd in mine

855eare, and charged me to giue it you.

856Bel. The Lord Hipollito?

857Orla. Yes, if he be a Lord, he gaue it me.

858Bel. 'Tis all gold.

859Orl. 'Tis like so: it may be, he thinkes you want money,

860and therefore bestowes his almes brauely, like a Lord.

861Bel. He thinkes a siluer net can catch the poore,

862Here's baite to choake a Nun, and turne her whore.

863Wilt thou be honest to me?

864Orl. As your nailes to your fingers, which I thinke ne-

865uer deceiued you.

866Bel. Thou to this Lord shalt goe, commend me to him,

867And tell him this, the Towne has held out long,

868Because (within) 'twas rather true, then strong.

869To sell it now were base; Say 'tis no hold

870Built of weake stuffe, to be blowne vp with gold.

871He shall beleeue thee by this token, or this; if not, by this.

872Orla. Is this all?

873Bel. This is all.

874Orl. Mine owne Girle still.

875Bel. A Starre may shoote, not fall. Exit Bellafront.

876Orl. A Starre? nay, thou art more then the moone, for

877thou hast neither changing quarters, nor a man standing in

878thy circle with a bush of thornes. Is't possible the Lord 879Hipollito, whose face is as ciuill as the outside of a Dedicato-

880ry Booke, should be a Muttonmunger? A poore man has

881but one Ewe, and this Grandy Sheepe-biter leaues whole

882Flockes of fat Weathers (whom he may knocke downe)

883to deuoure this. Ile trust neither Lord nor Butcher with

884quicke flesh for this tricke; the Cuckoo I see now sings all

885the yeere, though euery man cannot heare him, but Ile

886spoyle his notes; can neither Loue-letters, nor the Deuils

887common Pick-lockes (Gold) nor Precious Stones make my

888Girle draw vp her Percullis: hold out still, wench.

889All are not Bawds (I see now) that keepe doores,

890Nor all good wenches that are markt for Whores. Exit.