AND whether with you now? what looſe action are you bound for? come what comrades are you to meete withall? whers the ſupper? whers the ſupper? whers the randeuous?

Indeed, and in very good ſober truth, Sir.

Indeed, and in very good ſober truth Sir? Behinde my backe thou wilt ſweare faſter then a french foot boy, and talke more bawdily then a common midwife, and now indeede and in very good ſober truth Sir: but if a priuie ſearch ſhould be made, with what furniture are you riggd now? Sirrah I tell thee, I am thy maiſter William Tutchſtone Goldſmith: and thou my Prentiſe Francis Quick-ſiluer: and will ſee whether you are running. Worke vpon that now.

Why Sir I hope a man may vſe his recreation with his maiſters profit.

Prentiſes recreations are ſeldome with their maiſters profit. Worke vpon that now. You ſhall giue vp your cloake tho you be no Alderman. Heyday, Ruffins hall. Sword, pumps, heers a Racket indeed. Touch. vncloakes Quick.

Worke vpon that now.

Thou ſhamleſſe Varlet doſt thou ieſt at thy lawfull maiſter contrary to thy Indentures?

Why zbloud ſir, my mother's a Gentlewoman: and my father a Iuſtice of Peace, and of Quorum, and tho I am a yonger brother and a prentiſe yet I hope I am my fathers ſonne: and by Gods lidde, tis for your worſhip and for your commoditie that I keepe companie. I am intertaind among gallants, true: They call me coozen Franke, right; Ilend them monnies, good; they ſpend it, well. But when they are ſpent, muſt not they ſtriue to get more? muſt not their land flye? and to whom? ſhall not your worſhip ha, the refuſall? well, I am a good member of the Citty if I were well conſidered. How would Morchants thriue, if Gentlemen would not be vnthriftes? How could Gentlemen be vnthriſts if their humours were not fed? How ſhould their humours be fedde but by whit meate, and cunning ſecondings? well, the Cittie might conſider vs. I am going to an Ordinary now; the gallants fall to play, I carry light golde with me: the gallants call coozen Francke ſome golde for ſiluer, I change, gaine by it, the gallants looſe the gold; and then call coozen Francke lend me ſome ſiluer. Why—

Why? I cannot tell, ſeuē ſcore pound art thou out in the caſh, but looke to it, I will not be gallanted out of my monies. And as for my riſing by other mens fall; God ſhield me. Did I gaine my wealth by Ordinaries? no: by exchanging of gold? no: by keeping of gallants company? no. I hired me a little ſhop, fought low, tooke ſmall gaine, kept no debt booke, garniſhed my ſhop for want of Plate, with good wholſome thriftie ſentences; As, Touchſtone, keepe thy ſhopp, and thy ſhoppe will keepe thee. Light gaines makes heauy purſes. Tis good to be merry and wiſe: And when I was wiu'd, hauing ſomething to ſtick too, I had the horne of Suretiſhip euer before my eyes: You all know the deuiſe of the Horne, where the young fellow ſlippes in at the Butte end, and comes ſqueſd out at the Buckall: and I grew vp, and I praiſe prouidence, I beare my browes now as high as the beſt of my neighbours: but thou-well looke to the accounts, your fathers bond lyes for you: ſeuen ſcore pound is yet in the reere.

Why Slid ſir, I haue as good, as proper gallants wordes for it as any are in London, Gentlemen of good phraſe, perfect language, paſſingly behau'd, Gallants that weare ſocks and cleane linnen, and call me kinde coozen Francke, good coozen Francke, for they know my Father; and by god; lidde ſhall not I truſt hem? not truſt?

What doe yee lacke Sir? What iſt you'le buye Sir?

I marry Sir, there's a youth of another peece. There's thy fellowe-Prentiſe, as good a Gentleman borne as thou art: nay, and better mean'd. But dos he pumpe it, or Racket it? Well, if he thriue not, if he out-laſt not a hundred ſuch crackling Bauins as thou art, God and men neglect induſtrie.

It is his Shop, and here my M. walkes. To the Page.

With me Boy?

My Maiſter, Sir Petronel Flaſh, recommends his loue to you, and will inſtantly viſite you,

To make vp the match with my eldeſt daughter, my wiues Dilling, whom ſhe longs to call Maddam. He ſhall finde me vnwillingly readie Boy. Exit Page.

Ther's another afliction too. As I haue two Prentiſes: the one of a boundleſſe prodigalitie, the other of a moſt hopefull Induſtrie. So haue I onely two daughters: the eldeſt, of a proud ambition and nice wantonneſſe: the other of a modeſt humilitie and comely ſoberneſſe. The one muſt bee Ladyfied forſooth: and be attir'd juſt to the Court-cut, and long tayle. So farre is ſhe ill naturde to the place and meanes of my preferment and fortune, that ſhee throwes all the contempt and diſpight, hatred it ſelfe can caſt vpon it. Well, a peece of Land ſhe has, t'was her Grandmothers gift: let her, and her Sir Petronel, flaſh out that. But as for my ſubſtance, ſhee that skornes mee, as I am a Citizen and Trades-man, ſhall neuer pamper her pride with my induſtrie: ſhall neuer vſe me as men doe Foxes; keepe themſelues warme in the skinne, and throwe the body that bare it to the dung-hill. I muſt goe intertaine this Sir Petronell. Goulding, My vtmoſt care's for thee, and onely truſt in thee, looke to the ſhoppe, as for you, Maiſter Quick-ſiluer, thinke of huskes, for thy courſe is running directly to the prodigaills hogs trough. huskes Sra. Works vpon that now.

Fye how you ſweare.

Sfoot man I am a Gentleman, and may ſweare by my pedegree, Gods my life. Sirrah Goulding, wiit be ruled by a foole? turne good fellow, turne ſwaggering gallant, and let the Welkin roare, and Erebus alſo: Looke not Weſtward to the fall of Don Phoebus, but to the Eaſt; Eaſtward Hoe, "Where radiant beames of luſty Sol appeare, "And bright Eous makes the welkin cleare. We are both Gentlemen, and therefore ſhould be no coxcombes: lets be no longer fooles to this flat-cap Touchſtone. Eaſtward Bully: this Sattin belly, & Canuas backt Touchſtone; Slife man his father was a Malt-man, and his mother ſould Ginger-bread in Chriſt-church.

What would yee ha me doe?

Why do nothing, be like a gentleman, be idle the curſſe of man is labour. Wipe thy bum with teſtones, & make Duckes and Drakes with ſhillings: What Eaſtward hoe. Wilt thou crie, what iſt yee lack? ſtand with a bare pate, and a dropping noſe, vnder a wodden pent-houſe, and a • t a gentleman? wilt thou beare Tankards, and maiſt beare Aimes? be rul'd, turne gallant, Eaſtward hoe, ta lyre, lyre, ro., Who calls Ieronimo? ſpeake here I am: gods ſo, how like a ſheepe thou lookſt, a my conſcience ſome cowheard begot thee, thou Goulding of Goulding-hall, ha boy?

Goe, yee are a prodigall coxcombe, I a cowheards ſonne, becauſe I turne not a drunkē whore-hunting rake-hell like thy ſelfe? Offers to draw, & Goulding trips vp his heeles and holds him.

Rakehell? rakehell?

Piſh, in ſoft termes yee are a cowardly bragging boy. Ile ha you whipt.

Whipt, thats good ifaith, vntruſſe me?

No, thou wilt vndoe thy ſelfe. Alas I behold thee with pitty, not with anger; thou common ſhot-clog, gull of all companies: mee thinkes I ſee thee already walking in Moore fields without a Cloake, with halfe a Hatte, without a band, a Doublet with three Buttons, without a girdle, a hoſe with one point and no Garter, with a cudgell vnder thine arme borrowing and begging three pence.

Nay Slife, take this and take all: as I am a Gentleman borne, Ile be drunke, grow valiant, and beate thee. Exit.

Goe thou moſt madly vaine, whom nothing can recouer but that which reclaimes Athieſts, and makes great perſons ſometimes religious: Calamitie. As for my place and life thus I haue read:

For the paſſion of patience, looke if ſir Petronell approach; that ſweet, that fine, that delicate, that—for loues ſake tell me if he come. O ſiſter Mill, though my father be a low capt tradſman, yet I muſt be a Lady: and I praiſe God my mother muſt call me Medam, (does he come?) off with this gowne for ſhames ſakes, off with this gowne: let not my Knight take me in the Citty cut in any hand: tear't, pax ont (does he come) tear't of. Thus whilſt ſhee ſleepes I ſorrow, for her ſake, &c.

Lord ſiſter, with what an immodeſt impaciencie and diſgracefull ſcorne, doe you put off your Citty tier: I am ſorrie to thinke you imagin to right your ſelfe, in wronging that which hath made both you and vs.

I tell you I cannot indure it, I muſt be a Lady: do you weare your Quoiffe with a London licket; your Stammell petticoate with two guardes, the Buffin gowne with the Tuftaffitic cape, and the Veluet lace. I muſt be a Lady, and I will be a Lady. I like ſome humors of the Cittie Dames well, to eate Cherries onely at an Angell a pound, good; to dye rich Scarlet black, pretty: to line a Grogaram gowne cleane thorough with veluet, tollerable; their pure linnen, their ſmocks of 3. li. a ſmock are to be borne withall. But your minſing niceryes, taffata pipkins, durance petticotes, & ſiluer bodkins:—Gods my life, as I ſhall be a Lady I cannot indure it. Is hee come yet? Lord what a long knight tis! And euer ſhee cride ſhoute home, and yet I knew one longer, and euer ſhe cryde ſhoute home, fa, la, ly, re, lo, la.

Well Siſter, thoſe that ſcorne their neſt, oft flye with a ſicke wing.

Boe-bell.

Where Titles preſume to thruſt before fit meanes to ſecond them, Wealth and reſpect often growe ſullen and will not follow. For ſure in this, I would for your ſake I ſpake not truth. Where ambition of place goes before fitneſſe of birth, contempt and diſgrace follow. I heard a Scholler once ſay, that Ʋliſſes when he counterfeited himſelfe madde, yoakt cattes, and foxes, and dogges togither to draw his plowe, whilſt he followed and ſowed ſalt: But ſure I judge them truely madde, that yoake citizens and courtiers, trades men and ſouldiers, a gold-ſmiths daughter and a knight: well ſiſter, pray God my father ſowe not ſalt too.

Alas, poore Mil. when I am a Lady, Ile pray for thee yet I faith: Nay, and Ile vouchſafe to call thee ſiſter Mil ſtill, for though thou art not like to be a Lady as I am, yet ſure thou art a creature of Gods making; and mayeſt paraduenture to bee ſau'd as ſoone as I, (dos he come?) And euer and anon ſhe doubled in her ſong.

Fine and ſtifly i faith, twill keepe your thighes ſo coole and make your waſte ſo ſmall: here was a fault in your bodie, but I haue ſupplyed the deſect, with the effect of my ſteele inſtrument which, though it haue but one eye, can ſee to rectifie the imperfection of the proportion.

Moſt aedefying Tailer! I proteſt you Tailers are moſt ſanctified members, and make many crooked thing goe vpright. How muſt I beare my hands? light? light?

O I, now you are in the Lady-faſhion, you muſt doe all things light. Tread light, light. I and fall ſo: that's the court-Amble. She trips about the ſtage.

Has the Court nere a trot?

No, but a falſe gallop, Ladie.

And if ſhe will not goe to bed Cantat.

The knights come forſooth.

Is my knight come? O the Lord. my band? Siſter doo my cheekes looke well? giue me a little boxe a the eare that I may ſee me to bluſh: now, now. So, there, there, there! here he is: O my deareſt delight, Lord, Lord, and how doe my Knight?

Fye, with more modeſtie.

Modeſtie! why I am no cittizen now, modeſtie? am I not to bee married? y'are beſt to keepe me modeſt now I am to be a Ladie.

Boldnes is good faſhion and courtlike.

I, in a countrie Ladie I hope it is: as I ſhall be. And how chaunce ye came no ſooner knight?

Faith, I was ſo intertaind in the Progreſſe with one Count Epernoum a welch knight: wee had a match at Baloone too, with my Lord Whachum, for foure crownes.

At Baboone? Ieſu! you and I will play at Baboone in the countrey? Knight.

O ſweet Lady: tis a ſtrong play with the arme.

With arme, or legge, or any other member, if it bee a court-ſport. And when ſhal's be married my Knight?

I come now to conſumate it; and your father may call a poore Knight, Sonne in Law.

Sir, ye are come, what is not mine to keepe, I muſt not be ſorry to forgoe: A 100. li. Land her Grandmother left her, tis yours, her ſelfe (as her mothers gift) is yours. But if you expect ought from me, know, my hand and mine eyes open together; I doe not giue blindly: Worke vpon that now.

Sir, you miſtruſt not my meanes? I am a Knight.

Sir, Sir; What I know not, you will giue me leaue to ſay, I am ignorant of.

Yes, that he is a Knight; I know where he had money to pay the Gentlemen Vſhers, and Heralds their Fees. I, that he is a Knight: and ſo might you haue beene too, if you had beene ought elſe then an Aſſe, aſwell as ſome of your neighbours. And I thought you would not ha beene Knighted, (as I am an honeſt woman) I would ha dub'd you my ſelf, I praiſe God I haue wherewithall. But as for you daughter.—

I mother, I muſt bee a Ladie to morrow: and by your leaue mother (I ſpeake it not without my dutie, but onely in the right of my husband) I muſt take place of you, Mother.

That you ſhall Lady-daughter, and haue a Coach as well as I too.

Yes mother. But by your leaue mother, (I ſpeake it not without my dutie but onely in my husbands right) my Coach-horſes muſt take the wall of your Coach-horſes.

Come, come, the day growes low: tis ſupper time; vſe my houſe the wedding ſolemnitie is at my wifes coſt; thanke mee for nothing but my willing bleſſing: for (I cannot faine) my hopes are faint. And Sir, reſpect my daughter, ſhee has refuſ'd for you wealthy and honeſt matches, knowne good men, well monied, better traded, beſt reputed.

Boddy a truth, Chittizens, Chittizens. Sweet Knight, as ſoone as euer wee are married, take mee to to thy mercie out of this miſerable Chittie, preſently, carry me out of the ſent of New-castle Coale, and the hearing of Boe-bell, I beſeech thee downe with me for God ſake.

Well daughter, I haue read, that olde wit ſings:

No, no; yon'd ſtand my hopes.

Come hither daughter. And how approue you your ſiſters faſhion? how doe you phantſie her cho yee? what doſt thou thinke?

I hope as a ſiſter, well.

Nay but, nay but how doſt thou like her behauiour and humour? ſpeake freely.

I am loath to ſpeake ill: and yet I am ſorry of this, I cannot ſpeake well.

Well: very good, as I would wiſh: A modeſt anſwere▪ Goulding, come hither: hither Golding. How doſt thou like the Knight. Sir Flaſh? dos he not looke bigge? how likſt thou the Elephant? he ſayes he has a caſtle in the Countrey.

Pray heauen, the Elephant carry not his Caſtle on his backe.

Fore heauen, very well: But ſeriouſly, how doſt repute him?

The beſt I can ſay of him is, I know him not.

Ha G ulding? I commend thee, I approoue thee, and will make it appeare my affection is ſtrong to thee. My wiſe has her humour, and I will ha, mine. Doſt thou ſee my daughter here? ſhee is not faire, well-fauoured or ſo, indifferent, which modeſt meaſure of beautie, ſhall not make it thy onely worke to watch her, nor ſufficient miſ • baunce, to ſuſpect her. Thou art towardly, ſhee is modeſt, thou art prouident, ſhee is carefull. Shee's nowe mine: giue me thy hand, ſhee's now thine▪ Worke vpon that now.

Sir, as your ſonne, I honour you; and as your ſeruant obey you.

Sayeſt thou ſo, come hither Mildred. Doe you ſee yon'd fellow? he is a Gentlemen (tho my Prentiſe) & has ſomewhat to take too: a Youth of good hope; well friended, wel parted. Are you mine▪ You are his. Worke (you) vpon that now.

Sir, I am all yours: your body gaue mee life, your care and loue hapineſſe of life: let your veriue ſtill direct it, for to your wiſedome I wholy diſpoſe my ſelfe.

Sayſt thou ſo? be you two better acquainted. Lip her, Lip her knaue. So ſhut vp ſhop: in▪ We muſt make holiday.

Worke vpon that now. Exit.

Quickeſiluer, maiſter Frances Quickeſiluer, maiſter Quickeſiluer? Enter Quickeſiluer.

Here ſir; (vmp.)

So ſir; nothing but flat Maiſter Quickeſiluer (without any familiar addition) will fetch you: will you truſſe my points ſir?

I forſooth: (vmp.)

How now ſir? the druncken hyckop, ſo ſoone this morning?

Tis but the coldneſſe of my ſtomack forſooth.

What? haue you the cauſe naturall for it? y'are a very learned drunckerd: I beleeue I ſhall miſſe ſome of my ſiluer ſpoones with your learning. The nuptiall night will not moiſten your throate ſufficiently, but the morning likewiſe muſt raine her dews into your gluttonous weſand.

An't pleaſe you ſir, we did but drinke (vmp,) to the comming off, of the Knightly Bridegrome.

To the comming off an'him?

I forſooth: we druncke to his comming on (vmp,) when we went to bed; and now we are vp, we muſt drinke to his comming off: for thats the chiefe honour of a Souldier ſir, and therfore we muſt drinke ſo much the more to it, forſooth. (vmp.)

A very capitall reaſon. So that you goe to bed late, and riſe early to commit drunkenneſſe? you fullfill the Scripture very ſufficient wickedly forſooth.

The Knights men forſooth be ſtill a their knees at it, (vmp) & becauſe tis for your credit ſir, I wold be loth to flinch.

So ſir, now I will go keepe my (vmp) credit with 'hem an't pleaſe you ſir.

In any caſe Sir, lay one cup of Sack more alyour cold ſtomack, I beſeech you.

Yes forſooth. Exit. Quick.

This is for my credit Seruants euer maintaine drunkenneſſe in their maiſters houſe, for their maiſters credit; a good idle Seruing-mans reaſon: I thanke Time, the night is paſt; I nere wakt to ſuch coſt; I thinke we haue ſtowd more ſorts of fleſh in our bellies, then euer Noahs Arke receiued: and for Wine, why my houſe turnes giddie with it, and more noiſe in it then at a Conduict; Aye me, euen beaſts condemne our gluttonie. Well, 'tis our Citties fault, which becauſe we commit ſeldome, we commit the more ſinfully, wee loſe no time in our ſenſualitie, but we make amends for it; O that we would do ſo in vertue, and religious negligences; But ſee here are all the ſober parcels my houſe can ſhowe, Ile caueſdrop, heare what thoughts they vtter this morning.

But is it poſſible, that you ſeeing your ſiſter preferd to the bed of a Knight, ſhould containe your affections in the armes of a Prentice?

I had rather make vp the garment of my affections in ſome of the ſame peece, then like a foole weare gownes of two coulours, or mix Sackcloth with Sattin.

And doe the coſtly garments; the title and fame of a Lady the faſhion; obſeruation, and reuerence proper to ſuch preferment, no more enflame you, then ſuch conuenience as my poore meanes and induſtrie can offer to your vertues?

I haue obſeru'd that the bridle giuen to thoſe violent flatteries of fortune, is ſeldome recouer'd; they beare one headlong in deſire from one noueltie to another: and where thoſe ranging appetites raigne, there is euer more paſſion then reaſons no ſtaye, and ſo no happineſſe. Theſe haſtie aduancements are not naturall; Nature hath giuen vs legges, to goe to our obiects; not wings to flie to them.

Worke vpon that now. By my hopes, he woes honeſtly and orderly; he ſhalbe Anchor of my hopes. Looke, ſee the ill yoakt monſter his fellow.

Eaſtward Hoe; Holla ye pampered lades of Aſia.

Drunke now downe right, a, my fidelitie.

(Vmp) pulldo, Pulldo; ſhowſe quoth the Caliuer.

Fie fellow Quickeſiluer, what a pickle are you in?

Pickle? pickle in thy throate; zounes pickell? wa ha ho, good morow knight Petronell: morow lady Gouldſmith▪ come of, Knight, with a counterbuff, for the honor of knighthood.

Why how now ſir? doe yee know where you are?

Where I am? why sbloud you loulthead where I am?

Go to, go to, for ſhame go to bed, and ſleepe out this immodeſtie: thou ſham'ſt both my maiſter and his houſe.

Shame? what ſhame? I thought, thou wouldſt ſhow thy bringing vp: and thou wert a Gentleman as I am, thou wouldſt thinke it no ſhame to be drunke. Lend me ſome money, ſaue my credit, I muſt dine with the Seruing men and their wiues; and their wiues ſirha.

E'ene who you will, Ile not lend thee three pence.

Sfoote lend me ſome money, haſt thou not Hyren here?

Why how now ſirha? what vain's this, hah?

Who cries on murther? lady was it you? how does our maiſter? pray thee crie Eaſtward ho?

Sirha, ſirrha, y'are paſt your hickvp now, I ſee y'are drunke.

And heare you keepe a whore in towne.

Tis for your credit Maiſter.

And what you are out in Caſhe, I know.

So do I. my fathers a Gentleman, Worke vpon that now; Eaſtward hoe.

Sir, Eaſtward hoe, will make you go Weſtward ho; I will no longer diſhoneſt my houſe, nor endanger my ſtocke with your licence; There ſir, there's your Indenture, all your apparell (that I muſt know) is on your back; and from this time my doore is ſhut to you: from me be free; but for other freedome, and the moneys you haue waſted; Eaſtward ho, ſhall not ſerue you.

Am I free a, my ferters? Renſe; Flye with a Duck in thy mouth: and now I tell thee Touchſtone—

Good ſir.

When this eternall ſubſtance of my ſoule,

Well ſaid, chandge your gould ends for your play ends.

Did liue impriſon'd in my wanton fleſh.

What then ſir?

I was a Courtier in the Spaniſh court, and Don Andrea was my name.

Good maiſter Don Andrea will you marche?

Sweete Touchſtone, will you lend me two ſhillings?

Not a penny.

Not a penny? I haue friends, & I haue acquaintance, I will piſſe at thy ſhop poſts, and throw rotten Egges at thy ſigne: Worke vpon that now. Exit, ſtaggering.

Now ſirha, you? heare you? you ſhall ſerue me no more neither; not an houre longer.

What meane you ſir?

I meane to giue thee thy freedome; & with thy freedome my daughter: & with my daughter a fathers loue. And with all theſe ſuch a portion, as ſhall make Knight Petronell himſelfe enuie thee: y'are both agreed? are yee not?

With all ſubmiſſion, both of thanks and dutie.

Well then, the great powre of heauē bleſſe & confirme you. And, Goulding, that my loue to thee may not ſhowe leſſe then my wiues loue to my eldeſt daughter; thy mariage feaſt ſhall equall the Knights and hers.

Sonne to mine owne boſome, take her and my bleſſing: The nice fondling, my Lady ſir-reuerence, that I muſt not nowe preſume to call daughter, is ſo rauiſh't with deſire to hanſell her new Coche, and ſee her knights Eaſtward Castle, that the next morning will ſweate with her buſie ſetting foorth, awaye will ſhe and her mother, and while their preparation is making, our ſelues with ſome two or three other friends will conſumate the humble matche, we haue in Gods name concluded.

My priuie Gueſt, luſtie Quickeſiluer, has drunke too deepe of the Bride-boule, but with a little ſleepe he is much recouered; And I thinke is making himſelfe readie, to bee drunke in a gallanter likenes: My houſe is as t'were the Caue, where the yong Out-lawe hoords the ſtolne vayles of his occupation; And here when he will reuell it in his prodigall ſimilitude, he retires to his Trunks, and (I may ſay ſoftly) his Punks: he dares truſt me with the keeping of both: for I am Securitie it ſelfe, my name is Securitie, the famous Vſurer.

Come old Securitie, thou father of deſtruction: th'indented Sheepeskinne is burn'd wherein I was wrapt, and I am now looſe, to get more children of perdition into thy vſurous Bonds. Thou feed'ſt my Lecherie, and I thy Couetouſnes: Thou art Pandar to me for my wench, and I to thee for thy cooſenages: K. mee, K. thee, runnes through Court and Countrey.

Well ſaid my ſubtle Quickeſiluer, Theſe K's ope the dores to all this worldes felicitie: the dulleſt forehead ſees it. Let not maſt. Courtier thinke hee carries all the knauery on his ſhoulders: I haue poore Hob in the countrie, that has worne hob-nayles on's ſhoes, haue as much villanie in's head, as he that weares gold bottons in's cap.

Why man, tis the London high-way to thriſt, if vertue bee vſde; tis but as a ſcrappe to the nette of villanie. They that vſe it ſimplie, thriue ſimplie I warrant: Waight and faſhion makes Goldſmiths Cockolds.

Here ſir, put of the other halfe of your Prentiſhip.

But Dad, haſt thou ſeene my running Gelding dreſt to day?

That I haue Franck, the Oſtler a'th Cocke, dreſt him for a Breakefaſt.

What did he eate him?

No, but he eate his breakefaſt for dreſſing him: and ſo dreſt him for breakfaſt. Quickſiluer. O wittie Age, where age is young in witte, And al youths words haue gray beards full of it!

But ah-las Francke, how will all this bee maintain'd now?

Why and I maintainde my place. Ile to the Court, another manner of place for maintenance I hope then the ſilly Cittie. I heard my father ſay, I heard my mother ſing a nolde Song and a true: Tou art a ſhee foole, and know'ſt not what belongs to our male wiſedome. I ſhallbee a Marchaunt for-ſooth: truſt my eſtate in a wooden Troughe as hee does? What are theſe Shippes, but Tennis Balles for the windes to play withall? Toſt from one waue to another; Nowe vnder-line; Nowe ouer the houſe; Sometimes Bricke-wal'd againſt a Rocke, ſo that the guttes flye out againe: ſometimes ſtrooke vnder the wide Hazzard, and farewell Maſt. Marchant.

Well Francke, well; the Seas you ſay are vncertaine: But hee that ſayles in your Court Seas, ſhall finde 'hem tenne times fuller of hazzard; wherein to ſee what is to bee ſeene, is torment more then a free Spirite can indure; But when you come to ſuffer, howe many Iniuries ſwallowe you? What care and deuotion muſt you vſe, to humour an imperious Lord? proportion your lookes to his lookes? ſmiles to his ſmiles? fit your ſayles to the winde of his breath?

Tuſh hee's no Iourney-man in his craft, that can not doe that.

But hee's worſe then a Prentiſe that does it, not onely humouring the Lorde, but euery Trencherbearer, euery Groome that by indulgence and intelligence crept into his fauour, and by Pandatiſme into his Chamber; He rules the roſte: And when my honourable Lorde ſayes it ſhall bee thus, my worſhipfull Raſcall (the Groome of his cloſe ſtoole) ſayes it ſhall not bee thus, claps the doore after him, and who dares enter? A Prentiſe, quoth you? tis but to learne to liue, and does that diſgrace a man? hee that riſes hardly, ſtands firmely: but hee that riſes with eaſe, Alas, falles as eaſily.

A pox on you, who taught you this mor rallitie?

I Dad thou mayſt well bee called Securitie, for thou takeſt the ſafeſt courſe.

Faith the quieter, and the more contented; and, out of doubt, the more godly. For Marchants in their courſes are neuer pleaſ'd, but euer repining againſt Heauen: One prayes for a Weſterly winde to carry his ſhippe foorth; another for an Eaſterly to bring his ſhippe home; and at euery ſhaking of a leaſe, hee falles into an agonie, to thinke what daunger his Shippe is in on ſuch a Coaſt, and ſo foorth. The Farmer hee is euer at oddes with the Weather, ſometimes the clowdes haue beene too barren; Sometimes the Heauens forgette themſelues, their Harueſts anſwere not their hopes; Sometimes the Seaſon falles out too fruitefull, Corne will beare no price, and ſo foorth. Th'Artificer, hee's all for a ſtirring worlde, if his Trade bee too full and fall ſhort of his expectation, then falles he out of ioynt. Where we that trade nothing but money, are free from all this, wee are pleaſ'd with all weathers: let it raine or hold vp, bee calme or windy, let the ſeaſon be whatſoeuer, let Trade goe how it will, wee take all in good part; een what pleaſe the heauens to ſend vs; ſo the Sunne ſtand not ſtill; and the Moone keepe her vſuall returnes; and make vp dayes, moneths, and yeares.

And you haue good ſecuritie?

I mary Francke, that's the ſpeciall point.

And yet forſooth wee muſt haue Trades to liue withall; For wee cannot ſtand without legges, nor flye without wings; and a number of ſuch skurvie phraſes. No, I ſay ſtill; hee that has wit, let him liue by his wit: hee that has none, let him be a Tradeſ-man.

Witty Maiſter Francis!

Tis pittie any Trade ſhould dull that quicke braine of yours. Doe but bring Knight Petronell into my Parchment Toyles once, and you ſhall neuer neede to toyle in any trade, a my credit! You know his wiues Land?

Euen to a foote Sir, I haue beene often there: a pretie fine Seate, good Land, all intire within it ſelfe.

Well wooded?

Two hundered pounds woorth of wood readye to fell. And a fine ſweete houſe that ſtands iuſt in the midſt an't, like a Pricke in the midſt of a Circle; would I were your Farmer, for a hundred pound a yeere.

Excellent M. Francis; how I do long to doe thee good: How I doe hunger, and thirſt to haue the honour to inrich thee? I, euen to die, that thou mighteſt inherite my liuing: euen hunger and thirſt, for a my Religion, M. Francis. And ſo tell Knight Petrouell I doe it to doe him a pleaſure.

Marry Dad, his horſes are now comming vp, to beare downe his Ladie, wilt thou lend him thy ſtable to ſet 'hem in?

Faith M. Francis, I would be lothe to lend my Stable out of dores, in a greater matter I will pleaſure him, but not in this.

A pox of your hunger and thirſt. Well Dad, let him haue money: All he could any way get, is beſtowed on a Ship, now bound for Ʋirginia: the frame of which voiage is ſo cloſely conuaide, that his new Ladie nor any of her friendes know it. Notwithſtanding, as ſoone as his Ladyes hand is gotten to the ſale of her inheritance, and you haue furniſht him with money, he will inſtantly hoyſt Saile, and away.

Now a Franck gale of winde goe with him, Maiſter Franke, we haue too few ſuch knight aduenturers: who would not ſell away competent certainties, to purchaſe (with any danger) excellent vncertainties? your true knight venturer euer does it. Let his wife ſeale to day, he ſhall haue his money to day.

To morrow ſhe ſhall, Dad, before ſhe goes into the coū try, to worke her to which actio, with the more engines, I purpoſe preſently to preferre my ſweete Sinne here, to the place of her Gentlewoman; whom you (for the more credit) ſhall preſent as your friends daughter, a Gentlewoman of the countrie, new come vp with a will for a while to learne faſhions for-ſooth, and be toward ſome Ladie; and ſhe ſhall buzz prettie deuiſes into her Ladies eare; feeding her humors ſo ſeruiceablie (as the manner of ſuch as ſhe is you know.)

True good Maiſter Fraunces.

That ſhe ſhall keepe her Port open to any thing ſhe commends to her.

A'my religion, a moſt faſhionable proiect; as good ſhe ſpoile the Lady, as the Lady ſpoile her; for tis three to one of one ſide: ſweete miſtreſſe Sinne, how are you bound to maiſter Frances! I doe not doubt to ſee you ſhortly wedde one of the head men of our cittie.

But ſweete Franke, when ſhall my father Securitie preſent me?

With all feſtination; I haue broken the Ice to it already; and will preſently to the Knights houſe, whether, my good old Dad, let me pray thee with all formallitie to man her.

Commaund me Maiſter Frances; I doe hunger and thirſt to doe thee ſeruice. Come ſweete Miſtreſſe Sinne, take leaue of my Wynnifride, and we will inſtantly meete francke Maiſter Frances at your Ladies.

Where is my Cu there? Cu?

I Winnie.

Wilt thou come in, ſweete Cu?

I Wynney, quod he? thats all he can doe poore man; he may well cut off her name at Wynney. O tis an egregious Pandare! what will not an vſurous knaue be, ſo he may bee riche? O 'tis a notable lewes trump! I hope to liue to ſee dogs meate made of the old Vſurers fleſh; Dice of his bones; and Indentures of his skinne: and yet his skinne is too thicke to make Parchment, 'twould make good Bootes for a Peeter man to catch Salmon in. Your onely ſmooth skinne to make fine Vellam is your Puritanes skinne; they be the ſmootheſt and ſlickeſt knaues in a countrie.

Ile out of this wicked towne as faſt as my horſe can trot: Here's now no good action for a man to ſpend his time in. Tauerns growe dead; Ordinaries are blowne vp; Playes are at a ſtand; Howſes of Hoſpitallitie at a fall; not a Feather wauing, nor a Spurre gingling any where: Ile away inſtantlie.

Y'ad beſt take ſome crownes in your purſe Knight, or elſe your Eaſtward Caſtle will ſmoake but miſerably.

O Francke! my caſtle? Alas all the Caſtles I haue, are built with ayre, thou know'ſt.

I know it Knight, and therefore wonder whether your Lady is going.

Faith to ſeeke her Fortune I thinke. I ſaid I had a caſtle and land Eaſtward, and Eaſtward ſhe will without contradiction; her coach, and the coach of the Sunne muſt meete full butt: And the Sunne being out ſhined with her Lady-ſhips glorie, ſhe feares hee goes Weſtward to hange himſelfe.

And I feare, when her enchanted Caſtle becomes inuiſible, her Ladyſhip will returne and follow his example.

O that ſhe would haue the grace, for I ſhall neuer be able to pacific her, when ſhe ſees her ſelfe deceiued ſo.

As eaſely as can be. Tell her ſhe miſtooke your directions, and that ſhortly, your ſelfe will downe with her to approoue it; and then, cloath but her croupper in a new Gowne, and you may driue her any way you liſt: for theſe womē Sir, are like Eſſex Calues, you muſt wriggle 'hem on by the tayle ſtill, or they will neuer driue orderly.

But alas ſweet Francke, thou know'ſt my habilitie will not furniſh her bloud with thoſe coſtly humors.

Caſt that coſt on me Sir, I haue ſpoken to my olde Pandare Securitie, for money or commoditie; and commoditie (if you will) I know he will procure you.

Commoditie! Alas what commoditie?

Why Sir? what ſay you to Figges, and Rayſons?

A plague of Figges and Rayſons, and all ſuch fraile commodities, we ſhall make nothing of 'hem.

Why then Sir, what ſay you to Fortie pound in roſted Beefe?

Out vpon't, I haue leſſe ſtomacke to that, then to the Figges and Rayſons: Ile out of Towne, though I ſoiourne with a friend of mine, for ſtaye here I muſt not; my creditors haue laide to arreſt me, and I haue no friend vnder heauen but my Sword to baile me.

Gods me Knight, put 'hem in ſufficient ſureties, rather then let your Sworde bayle you; Let 'hem take their choice, eyther the Kings Benche, or the Fleete, or which of the two Counters they like beſt, for by the Lord I like none of 'hem.

Well Francke there is no ieſting with my earneſt neceſſitie; thou know'ſt if I make not preſent money to further my voyage begun all's loſt, and all I haue laid out about it.

Why then Sir in earneſt, if you can get your wiſe Lady to ſether hand to the ſale of her Inheritance, the bloud hound Securitie will ſmell out ready money for you inſtantly.

There ſpake an Angell. To bring her to which conformitie, I muſt faine my ſelfe extreamly amorous; and alledging vrgent excuſes for my ſtay, behinde, part with her as paſſionately, as ſhe would from her foyſting hound.

You haue the Sowe by the right eare Sir: I warrant there was neuer Childe longd more to ride a Cock horſe, or weare his new coate, thē ſhe longs to ride in hexr new Coache: She would long for euery thing when ſhe was a maide; and now ſhe will runne mad for 'hem: I laye my life ſhe will haue euery yeare foure children; and what charge and change of humour you muſt endure while ſhe is with childe; and how ſhe will tie you to your tackling till ſhe be with child, a Dog would not endure: Nay, there is no Turne-ſpit Dog bound to his wheele more ſeruily, then you ſhall be to her wheele; For as that Dogge can neuer climbe the top of his wheele, but when the toppe comes vnder him: ſo ſhall you neuer clime the top of her contentment, but when ſhe is vnder you.

Slight how thou terrifieſt me?

Nay harke you ſir; what Nurſes, what Midwiues, what Fooles, what Phiſitions, what cunning women muſt be ſought for (fearing ſometimes ſhe is bewitcht, ſome times in a conſumption) to tell her tales, to talke bawdy to her, to make her laughe, to giue her gliſters, to let her bloud vnder the tongue, and betwixt the toes; how ſhe will reuile and kiſſe you; ſpit in your face, and lick it off againe; how ſhe will vaunt you are her Creature; ſhee made you of nothing; how ſhee could haue had thouſand marke ioyntures; ſhe could haue bin made a Lady by a Scotche Knight; & neuer ha' married him: Shee could haue had Poynados in her bed euery morning; how ſhe ſet you vp, and how ſhe will pull you downe: youle neuer be able to ſtand of your legges to endure it.

Out of my fortune, what a death is my life bound face to face too? The beſt is, a large Time-fitted conſcience is bound to nothing: Marriage is but a forme in the Schoole of Policie, to which Schollers ſit faſtned onely with painted chaines, old Securities young wife is nere the further of with me.

Thereby lyes a tale ſir. The old vſurer will be here inſtantly, with my Puncke Syndefie, whome you know your Lady has promiſt mee to entertaine for her Gentlewoman: and he (with a purpoſe to feede on you) inuites you moſt ſolemnly by me to ſupper.

It falls out excellently fitly: I ſee deſire of gaine makes Iealouſie venturous: Enter Gyrt:

See Francke here comes my Lady; Lord how ſhe viewes thee, ſhe knowes thee not I thinke in this brauerie.

How now? who be you I pray?

Gods my dignitie! as I am a Lady, if he did not make me bluſh ſo that mine eyes ſtood awater, would I were vnmaried againe: Enter Securitie and Sindefie.

Where's my woman I pray?

See Madam, ſhe now comes to attend you.

God ſaue my honourable Knight, and his worſhipfull Lady.

Y'are very welcome! you muſt not put on your Hat yet.

No Madam; till I know your Ladiſhips further pleaſure, I will not preſume.

And is this a Gentlemans daughter new come out of the countrie?

She is Madam; & one that her Father hath a ſpeciall care to beſtowe in ſome honourable Ladies ſeruice, to put her out of her honeſt humours forſooth, for ſhe had a great deſne to be a Nun, an't pleaſe you.

A Nun? what Nun? a Nun Subſtantiue? or a Nun Adiectiue?

A Nun Subſtantiue Madam I hope, if a Nun be a Noune. But I meane, Lady, a vowd maide of that order.

Ile teach her to be a maide of the order I warrant you: and can you doe any worke belongs to a Ladyes Chamber?

What I cannot doe, Madam, I would bee glad to learne.

Well ſaid, hold vp then; hold vp your head I ſay, come hether a little.

I thanke your Ladiſhip.

And harke you; Good man, you may put on your Hatt now, I doe not looke on you: I muſt haue you of my faction now; not of my Knights, maide.

No forſooth Madam of yours.

And draw all my ſeruants in my Bowe, and keepe my counſell, and tell me tales, and put me Riddles and reade on a booke ſometimes when I am buſie, and laugh at countrie Gentlewomen, and command any thing in the houſe for my reteiners, and care not what you ſpend, for it is all mine; and in any caſe, be ſtill a Maide what ſoeuer you doe, or whatſoeuer any man can doe vnto you.

I warrant your Ladiſhip for that.

Very well, you ſhall ride in my coach with me into the country to morrow morning; Come Knight, pray thee lets make a ſhort ſupper, and to bed preſently.

Nay good Madam, this night I haue a ſhort Supper at home, waites on his worſhips acceptation.

By my faith but he ſhall not goe Sir; I ſhall ſwoune and he ſup from me.

Pray thee forbeare; ſhall he loſe his prouiſion?

I by Lady Sir, rather then I loſe my longing; come in I ſay: as I am a Lady you ſhall not goe.

I told him what a Burre he had gotten.

If you will not ſup from your Knight Madam, let me entreate your Ladiſhip to ſup at my houſe with him.

No by my faith Sir, then we cannot be a bed ſoone enough, after ſupper.

What a Medcine is this? well Maiſter Securitie, you are new married as well as I; I hope you are bound as well: we muſt honour our young wiues you know.

In pollicie Dad, till to morrow ſhe has ſeald.

I hope in the morning yet your Knight-hood will breake-faſt with me.

As early as you will Sir.

Thanke your good worſhip; I do hunger and thirst to do you good Sir.

Come ſweete Knight come, I do hunger and thyrſt to be a bed with thee. Exeunt.

Thankes for our feaſtlike Breakefaſt good Maiſter Securitie, I am ſory, (by reaſon of my inſtant haſte to ſo long a voyage as Ʋirginia,) I am without meanes, by any kinde amends to ſhow how affectionatly I take your kindneſſe, and to confirme by ſome worthy ceremonie a perpetuall league of friendſhip betwixt vs.

Excellent Knight; let this be a token betwixt vs of inuiolable friendſhip: I am new marryed to this fayre Gentlewoman you know; & (by my hope to make her fruitefull though I be ſomething in yeares) I vowe faithfully vnto you, to make you Godfather (though in your abſence) to the firſt childe I am bleſt withall; and henceforth call me Goſſip I beſeech you, if you pleaſe to accept it.

In the higheſt degree of gratitude, my moſt worthy Goſſip; for confirmation of which friendly title, let me entreate my faire Goſſip your Wife here, to accept this Diamond, and keepe it as my gift to her firſt Childe, whereſoeuer my Fortune in euent of my Voyage ſhall beſtowe me.

How now my coye wedlock! make you ſtrange of ſo Noble a fauour? take it I charge you, with all affection, and (by way of taking your leaue) preſent boldly your lips to our honourable Goſſip.

How ventrous he is to him, and how iealous to others!

Long may this kinde touch of our lippes Print in our hearts al the formes of affection. And now my good Goſſip, if the writings be ready to which my wife ſhould ſeale, let them be brought this morning, before ſhe takes Coache into the countrie, and my kindneſſe ſhall worke her to diſpatche it.

The writings are ready Sir. My learned counſell here, Maiſter Bramble, the Lawyer hath peruſde them; and within this houre, I will bring the Scriuenour with them to your worſhipfull Lady.

Good Maiſter Bramble, I will here take my leaue of you then; God ſend you fortunate Pleas ſir, and contentious Clients.

And you foreright windes Sir, and a fortunate voyage. Exit. Enter a Meſſenger.

Sir Petronell, here are three or foure Gentlemen deſire to ſpeake with you.

They are your followers in this voyage Knight, Captaine Seagull and his aſſociates, I met them this morning, and told them you would be here.

Let them enter I pray you, I know they long to bee gone, for their ſtay is dangerous.

God ſaue my honourable Collonell.

Welcome good Captaine Seagull, and worthy Gentlemen, if you will meete my friend Francke here, and me, at the blew Anchor Tauerne by Billinſgate this Euening, we will there drinke to our happy voyage, be merry, and take Boate to our Ship with all expedition.

Deferre it no longer I beſeech you Sir, but as your voyage is hetherto carried cloſely, and in another Knights name, ſo for your owne ſafetie and ours, let it be continued, our meeting and ſpeedy purpoſe of departing knowne to as few as is poſſible, leaſt your Ship and goods be attacht.

Well aduiſd Captaine our Collonell ſhall haue money this morning to diſpatch all our departures, bring thoſe Gentlemen at night to the place appointed, and with our skinnes full of vintage, weele take occaſion by the vantage, and away.

We will not faile but be there ſir.

Good morrow good Captaine, and my worthy aſſociates. Health and all Soueraigntie to my beautifull goſſip, for you ſir, we ſhall ſee you preſently with the writings.

With writings and crownes to my honorable goſſip: I do hunger and thirſt to doe you good ſir. Exeunt.

All haile, faire Hauen of married men onely, for there are none but married men Cuckolds. For my part, I preſume not to arriue here, but in my Maiſters behalfe, (a poore Butcher of Eaſt-cheape) who ſends me to ſet vp (in honour of Saint Luke) theſe neceſſarie Enſignes of his homage: And vp I got this morning, thus early, to get vp to the toppe of this famous Tree, that is all fruite and no leaues, to aduance this Creſt of my Maiſters occupation. Vp then, Heauen and Saint Luke bleſſe me, that I be not blowne into the Thames as I clime, with this furious Tempeſt; Slight, I thinke the Deuill be abroade, in likeneſſe of a ſtorme, to rob me of my Hornes: Harke how he roares. Lord! what a coyle the Thames keepes! ſhe beares ſome vniuſt burthen I beleeue, that ſhe kicks and curuets thus to caſt it: Heauen bleſſe all honeſt paſſengers, that are vpon her back now, for the Bitte is out of her mouth I ſee, and ſhee will runne away with 'hem. So, ſo, I thinke I haue made it looke the right way, it runnes againſt London-Bridge (as it were) euen full butt. And now, let mee diſcouer from this loftie proſpect, what pranckes the rude Thames playes in her deſperate lunacie. O me, here's a Boate has beene caſt away hard by. Alas, alas, See one of her paſſengers, labouring for his life, to land at this Hauen here; pray heauen he may recouer it: His next land is euē iuſt vnder me; hold out yet a little: whatſoeuer thou art, pray, and take a good heart to thee. Tis a man, take a mans heart to thee; yet a little further, get vp a thy legges man: now, tis ſnallowe enough. So, ſo, ſo! Alas, hee's downe againe; hold thy winde Father: tis a man in a Night-cappe. So! now hee's got vp againe: now hee's paſt the worſt: yet thankes be to heauen; he comes toward me pretie and ſtrongly.

Heauen, I beſeech thee, how haue I offended thee! where am I caſt a ſhore nowe, that I may goe a righter way home by land? Let me ſee. O I am ſcarce able to looke about me! where is there any Sea-marke that I am acquainted withall?

Looke vp Father, are you acquainted with this Marke?

What! landed at Cuckolds hauen? Hell and damnation. I will runne backe and drowne my ſelfe. {He falles downe.

Poore man how weake hee is! the weake water ha's waſht away his ſtrength.

Landed at Cuckolds hauen? if it had not bin to die twentie times a liue, I ſhould neuer haue ſcapt death: I will neuer ariſe more: I will grouell here, and eate durt till I be choak't: I will make the gentle earth doe that, which the cruell water ha's denied me.

Alas good father, be not ſo deſperate; Riſe man: if you will, Ile come preſently and lead you home.

Home? ſhall I make any know my Home, that has knowne me thus abrode? how Iowe ſhall I crouch away, that no eye may ſee mee? I will creepe on the earth while I liue, and neuer looke heauen in the face more. {Exit creep.

What yong Planet raignes now troe, that olde men are ſo fooliſh? What deſperate yong Swaggerer would haue bin abroad ſuch a wether as this, vpon the water? Ay me, ſee a nother remnant of this vnfortunate ſhip-wrack! or ſome other. A woman! yfaith, a woman, though it be almoſt at S. Kath'rins, I diſcerne it to be a woman for al her bodie is aboue the water, & her clothes ſwim about her moſt handſomely. O they beare her vp moſt brauely! has not a woman reaſon to loue the taking vp of her cloathes the better while ſhe liues, for this? Alas, how buſie the rude Thames is about her? A pox a'that waue. It wil drowne her, yfaith, twill drowne her. Crye God mercie, ſhee has ſcapt it! I thanke heauen ſhe has ſcapt it. O, how ſhe ſwimmes like a Mermaide! ſome vigilant body looke out, and ſaue her. That's well ſaid, iuſt where the Prieſt fell in, there's one ſets downe a Ladder, and goes to take her vp: Gods bleſſing a thy heart boy, now take her vp in thy armes and to bedde with her. Shee's vp, ſhee's vp! Shee's a beautifull woman I warrant her, the Billowes durſt not deuoure her.

How fare you now Lady?

Much better, my good friende then I wiſhe: as one deſperate of her Fame, now my Life is preſeru'd.

Comfort your ſelfe; That power that preſerued you from death: can likewiſe defend you from infamie, howſoeuer you deſerue it. Were not you one that tooke Bote, late this night, with a Knight, and other Gentlemen at Billings-gate?

Vnhappy that I am, I was.

I am glad it was my good happe to come downe thus farre after you, to a houſe of my friends heere in S. Kath'rines, ſince I am now happily made a meane to your reſcue, from the ruthleſſe tempeſt; which (when you tooke Bote) was ſo extreame, and the Gentleman that brought you forth, ſo deſperate and vnſober, that I fear'd long ere this I ſhould heare of your ſhip-wracke, and therefore (with little other reaſon) made thus farre this way: And this I muſt tell you, ſince perhappes you may make vſe of it, there was left behinde you at our Tauerne, brought by a Porter (hyr'd by the yong Gentleman that brought you) a Gentle womans Gowne, Hat, Stockings, and Shooes; which if they be yours, and you pleaſe to ſhift you, taking a hard bed here, in this houſe of my friend, I will preſently goe fetch you.

Thanks my good friend, for your more then good newes. The Gowne with all things bounde with it are myne; which if you pleaſe to fetch as you haue promiſt, I will bouldly receiue the kinde fauour you haue offered, till your returne: intreating you, by all the good you haue done in preſeruing me hitherto, to let none take knowledge of what fauour you doe me, or where ſuch a one as I am beſtowed, leſt you incurre mee much more damage in my fame, then you haue done me pleaſure in preſeruing my life.

Thanke you good friende: the time may come, I ſhall requite you. Exeunt.

See, ſee, ſee! I hold my life, there's ſome other a taking vp at Wapping, now! Looke, what a ſort of people cluſter about the Gallows there! in good troth it is ſo. O me! a fine yong Gentleman! What? and taken vp at the Gallowes? Heauen graunt he be not one day taken downe there: A, my life it is ominous. Well, hee is deliuered for the time, I ſee the people haue all left him; yet will I keepe my proſpect a while, to ſee if any more haue bin ſhipwrackt. Enter Quick, bareheade.

Zounds Captaine, I tell thee, we are caſt vp o'the Coaſt of France, Sfoote, I am not drunke ſtill, (I hope?) Doſt remember where we were laſt Night?

No by my troth Knight, not I. but me thinkes wee haue bin a horrible while vpon the water, and in the water.

Aye me we are vndone for euer: haſt any money about thee?

Not a pennie by heauen.

Faith I cannot tell that; my braines, nor mine eyes are not mine owne, yet.

Sfoote wilt not beleeue me? I know't by th'eleuation of the Pole; and by the altitude and latitude of the Climate. See! hers comes a coople of French Gentlemen▪ I knew we were in France: doſt thou think our Engliſhmen are ſo Frenchyfied, that a man knowes not whether he be in France, or in England, whē he ſees 'hem? What ſhal we doe? we muſt cene to 'hem, and intreat ſome reliefe of hem: Life is ſweete, and we haue no other meanes to relieue our liues now, but their Charities;

Pray you, do you beg on 'hem thē, you can ſpeak French.

Monſieur, plaiſt il d'auoir pitie de noſtre grand infortunes? Ieſuis vn poure Cheualier D'Angloterre qui a ſouffriſ infortune de Naufrage.

Vn poure Cheualier D'Angliterre?

Oui Monſieur, il eſt trop vraye; mais vousſcaues bien nous ſomes toutes ſubiect a fortune.

A poore Knight of England? a poore Knight of Windſore, are you not? Why ſpeake you this broken French, when y'are a whole Engliſh man? on what coaſte are you, thinke you?

on the coaſt of France, ſir.

On the coſt of Doggs Sir: Y'are ith' Ile a Doggs I tell you. I ſee y'aue bene waſht in the Thames here, & I beleeue ye were drownd in a Tauerne before, or els you would neuer haue tooke boate in ſuch a dawning as this was. Farewel, farewel, we wil not know you for ſhaming of you. I ken the man weel, hee's one of my thirty pound Knights.

No no, this is he that ſtole his knighthood o'the grand day, for foure pound giuing to a Page, all the money in's purſe I wot well. Exeunt.

Death, Collonell, I knew you were ouer ſhot.

Sure I thinke now indeede, Captaine Seagull, we were ſomething ouerſhot. Enter Quickſiluer.

What▪ my ſweete Franck Quickſiluer! doſt thou ſurviue to reioyce me? But what▪ no bodie at thy heels, Franck? Ay me, what is become of poore Miſtreſſe Securitie.

Let her goe, let her goe: let vs go to our ſhip at Blackwall and ſhift vs.

Nay by my troth, let our clothes rotte vpon vs. and let vs rotte in them: twentie to one our Ship is attacht by this time? if we ſet her not vnder Saile this laſt Tide, I neuer lookt for any other. Woe, woe is me, what ſhall become of vs? the laſt money we could make, the greedy Thams has deuourde; and if our Ship be attach't, there is no hope can relieue vs.

Sfoote Knight, what an vn-knightly faintneſſe tranſports thee? let our Ship ſinck, and all the world thats without vs be taken from vs, I hope I haue ſome tricks, in this braine of mine, ſhall not let vs periſh.

Well ſaid Francke faith. O my nimble-ſpirited Quick-ſiluer, Foregod, would thou hadſt beene our Colonell.

I like his ſpirit rarely, but I ſee no meanes he has to ſupport that ſpirit.

Go to Knight, I haue more meanes then thou art aware off: I haue not liu'd amongſt Gould-ſmiths and Gouldmakers all this while, but I haue learned ſomething worthy of my time with 'hem. And, not to let thee ſtinck where thou ſtandſt, Knight, Ile let thee know ſome of my skill preſently.

Doe good Francke I beſeech thee.

I will blanche Copper ſo cunningly, that it ſhall endure all proofes, but the Teſt: it ſhall endure malleation, it ſhal▪ haue the ponderoſitie of Luna, and the tenacitie of Luna, by no meanes friable.

Slight, where learn'ſt thou theſe tearmes, tro?

Tuſh Knight, the tearmes of this Arte, euery ignorant Quack-ſaluer is perfect in: but Ile tell you how your ſelfe ſhal blanche Copper thus cunningly. Take Arſnicke, otherwiſe called Realga, (which indeede is plaine Ratsbane) Sublime 'hem three or foure times, then take the Sublimate of this Realga, and put'hem into a Glaſſe, into Chymia, & let'hem haue a conuenient decoction Naturall, foure and twentie houres, & he will become perfectly fixt: Then take this fixed powder, & proiect him vpon wel-purgd Copper, et habebis Magiſtriū.

Excellent Francke, let vs hugge thee.

But then it will want weight?

You ſhall reſtore that thus: Take your ſal Achyme prepar'd, and your diſtild Vrine; and let your Angels lie in it but foure and twenty howres, and they ſhall haue their perfect weight againe: come on now I hope this is enough to put ſome ſpirit into the liuers of you, Ile infuſe more an other time. We haue ſaluted the proud Ayre long enough with our bare skonces, now will I haue you to a wenches houſe of mine at London, there make ſhift to ſhift vs, and after ſuch fortunes as the ſtars ſhal aſſigne vs.

Notable Franck! we will euer adore thee. Exeunt.

Nowe ſweete friende you haue brought me nere enough your Tauerne, which I deſired that I might with ſome colour be ſeene neare, enquiring for my husband; who I muſt tel you ſtale thither laſt with my wet gowne we haue left at your friends: which, to continue your former honeſt kindnes, let me pray you to keepe cloſe from the knowledge of any; and ſo, with all vow of your requitall, let me now entreate you to leaue me to my womans wit, and fortune.

All ſhall be done you deſire; and ſo, all the fortune you can wiſh for, attend you. Exit Draw.

I wil once more to this vnhappy Tauerne before I ſhift one ragge of me more, that I may there know what is left behind, and what newes of their paſſengers. I haue bought me a Hat and band with the little money I had about me, and made the ſtreets a litle leaue ſtaring at my night-cap.

O my deare husband! where haue you bin to night? al night abroade at Tauernes? rob me of my garments? and fare as one run away from me? Ahlas! is this ſeemely for a man of your credit? of your age? and affection to your wife?

What ſhould I ſay? how miraculouſly ſorts this? was not I at home, and cald thee laſt night?

Yes Sir, the harmeleſſe ſleepe you broke, and my anſwer to you would haue witneſt it, if you had had the patience to haue ſtaid and anſwered me; but your ſo ſodaine retreate, made me imagine you were gone to Maiſter Brambles, and ſo reſted patient, and hopefull of your comming againe, till this your unbeleeued abſence brought me abroade with no leſſe then wonder, to ſeeke you, where the falſe Knight had carried you.

Villaine, and Monſter that I was, howe haue I abuſ'd thee, I was ſodainly gone indeede! for my ſodaine ielouſie transferred me. I will ſay no more but this deare wife I ſuſpected thee.

Did you ſuſpect me?

Talke not of it I beſeech thee, I am aſhamed to imagine it; I will home, I will home, and euery morning on my knees aske thee hartely forgiuenes. Exeunt. Nowe will I deſcend my honourable Proſpect; the farthieſt ſeeing Sea marke of the World: Noe maruaile then if I could ſee two miles about me. I hope the redde Tempeſts anger be nowe ouer blowne, which ſure I thinke Heauen ſent as a puniſhment, for prophaning holy Saint Lukes memorie, with ſo ridiculous a cuſtome. Thou diſhoneſt Satyre, farewel to honeſt married Men; Farewel, to all ſorts, and degrees of thee. Farewel thou horne of hūger that calſt th'Inns a court to their Manger; Farewel thou horne of aboundāce, that adorneſt the headſmen of the Common-wealth; Farewell thou home of Direction, that is the Cittie Lanthorne; Farewell thou Horne of Pleaſure, the Enſigne of the huntſman; Farewell thou Horne of Deſtinie, thenſigne of the married man; Farewell thou Horne Tree that beareſt nothing but Stone fruite Exit.

Ha Sirah! Thinkes my Knight Aduenturer we can no point of our compaſſe? Doe wee not knowe North-north-eaſt? North-eaſt and by East? East and by North! nor plaine Eastward? Ha? haue we neuer heard of Ʋirginia? nor the Cauallaria? not the Colonoria? Can we diſcouer no diſcoueries? well, mine errant Sir Flaſh, and my runnagate Quickſiluer, you may drinke dronke, crack cannes, hurle away a browne dozen of Monmouth Capps or ſo, in ſea-ceremonie to your boon voyage but for reaching any Coaſt ſaue the coaſt of Kent; or Eſſex, with this Tide, or with this fleete, Ile be your warrant for a Graueſend Toſt: There's that gone aſore, wil ſtay your Admiral and Ʋice-admirall, and Rere-admirall, were they al (as they are) but one Pinnace, and vnder ſaile, as wel as a Remora, doubt it not; and from this Sconce, without eyther pouder or ſhot, worke vpon that now. Nay, and you'll ſhew trickes, wee'l vie with you, a little. My Daughter, his Lady, was ſent Eaſtward, by land, to a Caſtle of his, i'the ayre (in what region I knowe not) and (as I heare) was glad to take vp her lodging in her Coach, ſhe and her two waiting women, her maide, and her mother, like three Snailes in a ſhall, and the Coachman a top on 'hem, I thinke. Since they haue all found the way back againe by weeping Croſſe. But ile not ſee them. And for two on 'hem, Madam, and her Malkm, they are like to bite o the bridle for William, as the poore horſes haue done al this while that hurried 'hem, or elſe go graze o'the cō mon: So ſhould my Dame Touchstone too, but ſhe has bene my Croſſe theſe thirty yeares, and ile now keepe her, to fright away ſprights; Ifaith. I wonder I heare no news of my ſonne Goulding! He was ſent for to the Guild-hall, this Morning betimes, and I maruaile at the matter, if I had not layd vp Comfort, & hope in him, I ſhould grow deſperate of al. See, He is come I'my thought! How now Sonne? what newes at the Court of Aldermen?

Troth Sir, an Accident ſomewhat ſtrange, els it hath litle in it worth the reporting.

What? It is not borrowing of money then?

No ſir it hath pleaſd the worſhipful Commoners of the citty, to take me one i'their number at preſentation of the inqueſt

Ha!

And the Alderman of the warde wherein Idwel, to appoint me his Deputy—

Howe!

In which place, I haue had an oath miniſtred me, ſince I went.

Now my deare, & happy Sonnellet we kiſſe thy new worſhip, & a litle boaſt mine own happines in thee: What a fortune was it (or rather my iudgment indeed) for me, firſt to ſee that in his diſpoſition, which a whole Citty ſo conſpires to ſecond? Tane into the Liuory of his copany, the firſt day of his freedōe? now (not a weeke maried) choſen Commoner? and Aldermans Deputie in a day? note but the reward of a thrifty courſe. The wōder of his Time! Wel, I wil honour M. Alderman, for this act, (as becomes me) & ſhall think the better of the cômon Councels wiſdōe, & worſhip, while I liue, for thus meeting, or but cōming after me in the opinion of his deſert. Forward, my ſufficient Sonne, and as this is the firſt, ſo eſteeme it the leaſt ſtep, to that high and prime honour that expects thee.

Sir, as I was not ambitious of this, ſo I couet no higher place; it hath dignity enough, if it will but ſaue me from contempt: and I had rather my bearing, in this, or any other office, ſhould adde worth to it; then the Place giue the leaſt opinion to me.

Excellently ſpoken: This modeſt Anſwer of thine bluſhes, as if it ſaid, I will weare Scarlet ſhortly. Worſhipfull Sonne! I cannot containe my ſelfe, I muſt tell thee, I hope to ſee thee one o'the Monuments of our Citty, and reckon'd among her worthies, to be remembred the ſame day with the Lady Ramſey, and graue Greſham: when the famous fable of Whittington, and his Puſſe, ſhallbe forgotten, and thou and thy Actes become the Poſies for Hoſpitals, when thy name ſhall be written vpon Conduits, and thy deeds plaid i'thy life time, by the beſt companies of Actors, and be call'd their Get-peny. This I diuine. This I Prophecie.

Sir, engage not your expectation farder, then my abilities will anſwer: I that know mine owne ſtrengths, feare 'hem; and there is ſo ſeldome a loſſe in promiſing the leaſt, that commonly it brings with it a welcome deceipt. I haue other newes for you Sir.

None more welcome, I am ſure?

They haue their degree of welcome, I dare affirme. The Colonell, and all his company, this morning putting forth drunke from Belinſgate, had like to haue been caſt away o'this ſide Greenwich: and (as I haue intelligence, by a falſe Brother,) are come dropping to towne, like ſo many Maſterleſſe men, i'their doublets and hoſe, without Hatte, or Cloake, or any other—

A miracle! the Iuſtice of Heauen! where are they? lets goe preſently and lay for 'hem.

I haue done that already Sir, both by Conſtables, and other officers, who ſhall take 'hem at their old Anchor; and with leſſe tumult, or ſuſpition, then if your ſelfe were ſeene in't: vnder coulour of a great Preſſe, that is now abroad, and they ſhall here be brought afore me.

No, where is ſhe?

Within, but I ha' not ſeene her yet, not her mother; who now begins to wiſh her daughter vndub'd, they ſay, and that ſhe had walkd a foot-paſe with her ſiſter. Here they come, ſtand back.

God ſaue your Ladiſhip; 'ſaue your good Ladiſhip: your Ladiſhip is welcome from your inchanted Caſtell; ſo are your beautious Retinew. I heare your Knight errant is trauayld on ſtrange aduentures: Surely in my minde, your Ladiſhip hath fiſh'd faire, and caught a Frog, as the ſaying is.

Speake to your Father, Madam, & kneele downe.

Kneele? I hope I am not brought ſo low yet: though my Knight be run away, & has ſold my land, I am a Lady, ſtil.

Your Ladiſhip ſays true, Madam, & it is fitter, and a greater decorum, that I ſhould curtſie to you that are a knights wife, and a Lady, then you be brought a'your knees to me, who am a poore Cullion, and your Father.

Law! my Father knowes his duty.

O child!

And therefore I doe deſire your Ladiſhip, my good Lady Flaſh in all humility, to depart my obſcure Cottage, and returne in queſt of your bright, and moſt tranſparent Caſtell, how euer preſently conceald to mortall eyes. And as for one poore woman of your traine here, I will take that order, ſhe ſhall no longer be a charge vnto you, nor helpe to ſpend your Ladiſhip; ſhe ſhall ſtay at home with me, and not goe abroad, not put you to the pawning of an odde Coach-horſe, or three wheeles, but take part with the Touchſtone: If we lacke, we wil not complaine to your Ladiſhip. And ſo good Madam, with your Damoſelle here, pleaſe you to let vs ſee your ſtraight backs, in equipage; for truly, here is no rouſt for ſuch Chickens as you are, or birds o'your feather, if it like your Ladiſhip.

Mary, fyſte o'your kindneſſe. I thought as much. Come away Sinne, we ſhall aſſoone get a fart from a dead man, as a farthing of court'ſie here.

O, good Siſter!

Siſter, ſir reuerence? come away, I ſay, Hunger drops out at his noſe.

O Madam, Faire words neuer hurt the tongue.

How ſay you by that? you come out with your golde ends now!

Stay Lady-daughter: good husband.

Wife, no man loues his fetters, be they made of gold: I liſt not ha' my head faſtned vnder my childs girdle; as ſhe has brew'd, ſo let her drinke, a Gods name: ſhe went witleſſe to wedding, now ſhe may goe wiſely a begging. It's but hony-Moone yet with her Ladiſhip; ſhe has Coach horſes, Apparell, Iewels yet left, ſhe needs care for no friends, nor take knowledge of Father, Mother, Brother, Siſter, or any body: When thoſe are pawn'd, or ſpent, perhaps we ſhall returne into the liſt of her acquaintance.

I ſcorne it ifaith. Come Sinne. (Exit Gyrt.

O Madam, why do you prouoke your Father, thus?

Nay, nay, eene let Pride goe afore, Shame wil follow after, I warrant you. Come, why dooſt thou weepe now? thou art not the firſt good Cow haſt had an ill Calfe, I truſt. What's the newes, with that fellow? Enter Conſtable.

Sir, the Knight, and your man Quickeſiluer are without, will you ha 'hem brought in?

O by any meanes. And Sonne, here's a Chaire; appeare terrible vnto 'hem, on the firſt enter view. Let them behold the melancholy of a Magiſtrate, and taſte the fury of a Citizen in office.

Why Sir, I can do nothing to 'hem, except you charge 'hem with ſomwhat.

I will charge 'hem, and recharge 'hem, rather then Authority ſhould want foyle to ſet it of.

No good Sir, I will not.

Sonne, it is your place; by any meanes.

Beleeue it, I will not Sir.

How Miſfortune purſues vs ſtill in our miſery!

Would it had beene my fortune, to haue beene truſt vp at Wapping, rather then euer ha' come here.

Or mine, to haue famiſht in the Iland.

Muſt Goulding ſit vpon vs?

You might carry an M. vnder your girdle to Maiſter Deputis worſhip.

What are thoſe, maiſter Conſtable?

And't pleaſe your worſhip, a couple of Maiſterleſſe men, I preſt for the Low-countries, Sir.

Why do you not cary 'hem to Bridewell, according to your order, they may be ſhipt away?

An't pleaſe your Worſhip, one of'hem ſayes he is a Knight; and we thought good to ſhew him to your worſhip, for our diſcharge.

Which is he?

This Sir.

And what's the other?

A Knights Fellow Sir, an't pleaſe you.

What? a Knight, and his Fellow thus accoutred? Where are their Hattes and Feathers, their Rapiers, and their Cloakes?

O they mock vs.

Nay truely ſir, they had caſt both their Feathers, and Hattes too, before wee ſee 'hem. Here's all their furniture, an't pleaſe you, that we found. They ſay, Knights are now to be knowne without Feathers, like Cockrels by their Spurres, Sir.

What are their names, ſay they?

Very well this. He ſhould not take knowledge of 'hem in his place, indeeed.

This is Sir Petronell Flaſh.

How!

And this Francis Quickeſiluer.

Is't poſſible? I thought your Worſhip had beene gone for Ʋirginia, Sir▪ You are welcome home ſir. Your Worſhip has made a quick returne, it ſeemes and no doubt a good voyage. Nay pray you be co ••••… Sir. How did your Biſquet hold out Sir? Me thought, I had ſeene this Gentlemen afore; good Maiſter Quickeſiluer! How a degree to the Southward has chang'd you.

Doe you know 'hem Father? Forbeare your offers a litle, you ſhall be heard anon.

If my worſhipfull Father haue ended.

I haue, it ſhall pleaſe M. Deputy.

Well then, vnder correction.—

Now ſonne, come ouer 'hem with ſome fine guird, as thus, Knight you ſhall be encountred, that is, had to the Counter; or Quickſiluer, I will put you in a crucible or ſo.

Sir Petronell Flaſh, I am ſory to ſee ſuch flaſhes as theſe proceede from a Gentleman of your Quality, & Rancke; For mine own part, I could wiſh, I could ſay, I could not ſee thē: but ſuch is the miſery of Magiſtrates, and men in Place, that they muſt not winke at Offenders. Take him aſide, I wil heare you anone ſir.

I like this wel yet: there's ſome grace i'the knight, left, He cries.

Francis Quick-ſiluer, would God thou hadſt turnd Quack-ſaluer, rather then run into theſe diſſolute, & lewd courſes; It is great pitty, thou art a proper yong man, of an honeſt and cleane face, ſomewhat neere a good one, (God hath done his part in thee) but, thou haſte made too much, and beene to proud of that face, with the reſt of thy body; for maintenance of which in neate and gariſh attire, (onely to be look'd vpon by ſome light houſwifes) thou haſt prodigally conſumed much of thy Maſters eſtate: and being by him gently admoniſh'd, at ſeueral times, haſt returnd thy ſelfe haughty, and rebellious, in thine anſwers, thundring out vnciuill compariſons, requiting al his kindnes with a courſe and harſh behauiour, neuer returning thanks for any one benefit, but receiuing all, as if they had bin Debts to thee, & no Courteſies. I muſt tel thee Francis, theſe are manifeſt ſignes of an ill nature; and God doth often puniſh ſuch pride, and butrecuidance, with ſcorne and infamy, which is the worſt of misfortune. My worſhipfull father, what do you pleaſe to charge them withall? from the preſſe I wil free 'hem Maiſter Conſtable.

Then ile leaue your worſhip, Sir.

No, you may ſtay, there will be other matters againſt 'hem.

Sir I do charge this Gallant, Maiſter Quickſiluer, on ſuſpicion of Felony; and the Knight as being acceſſary, in the receipt of my goods.

O God Sir!

Hold thy peace, impudēt varlot, hold thy peace. With what forehead or face, doſt thou offer to choppe Logick with me, hauing run ſuch a race of Riot, as thou haſt done? Do's not the ſight of this worſhipful mans fortune & temper, confound thee, that was thy yonger fellow in houſhold, and now come to haue the place of a Iudge vpon thee? Doſt not obſerue this? Which of al thy Gallants, & Gaſters, thy Swearers & thy Swaggerers, will come now to mone thy misfortune, or pitty thy penurie? They le looke out at a window, as thou rid'ſt in triumph to Tiborne, and crye, yonder goes honeſt Franck, mad Quickſiluer; He was a free boone companion, when hee had money, ſayes one; Hang him foole, ſaies another, he could not keeepe it when he had it; A pox o'the Culliō his Mr. (ſais a third) he has brought him to this: when their Pox of pleaſure, & their piles of perdition, would haue bene better beſtowed vpon thee, that haſt ventred for 'hem with the beſt, and by the clew of thy knauery, brought thy ſelfe weeping, to the Cart of Calamity.

Worſhipfull Maiſter.

Offer not to ſpeake, Crocodile, I will not heare a ſound come from thee. Thou haſt learnt to whine at the Play yonder. Maiſter Deputy, pray yon commit 'hem both to ſafe cuſtody, till I be able farther to charge 'hem.

O me, what an infortunate thing am I!

Will you not take ſecurity Sir.

Yes mary will I ſir Flaſh, if I can find him, & charge him as deepe as the beſt on you. He has beene the plotter of all this: he is your Inginer, I heare. Maiſter Deputy, you'll diſpoſe of theſe? In the meane time, Ile to my Lo. Mayor, & get his warrant, to ſeize that Serpent Securitie into my hands, & ſeale vp both houſe, and goods, to the Kings vſe, or my ſatiſfaction.

Officers take 'hem to the Counter.

O God.

Nay on, on: you ſee the iſſue of your Sloth. Of Sloth commeth Pleaſure, of Pleaſure commeth Riot, of Ryot comes Whoring, of Whoring comes Spending, of Spending comes Want, of Want comes Theft, of Theft comes Hanging; and there is my Quickeſiluer fixt. Exeunt.

Ah Sinne! haſt thou euer read i'the Chronicle of any Lady, and her waiting-woman, driuen to that extremity, that we are, Sinne?

Not I truely, Madam, and if I had, it were but colde comfort, ſhould come out of bookes, now.

Why, good faith Sinne, I could dine with a lamentable ſtorie, now. O hone, hone, o no nera, &c. Canſt thou tell nere a one, Synne?

None, but mine owne, Madam, which is lamentable inough; firſt to be ſtolne from my Friends, which were worſhipfull, and of good accompt, by a Prentile, in the habite and diſguiſe of a Gentleman, and here brought vp to London, and promiſ'd mariage, and now likely to be forſaken (for he is in poſſibility to be hangd.)

Nay weepe not good Sinne. My Petronell, is in as good poſſibilitie as he. Thy miſeries, are nothing to mine, Sinne: I was more then promiſ'd marriage, Sinne, I had it Sinne: & was made a Lady; and by a Knight, Sin: which is now as good as no Knight, Sin: And I was borne in London, which is more then brought vp, Sin: and already forſaken; which is paſt likelihood, Sin: and in ſtead of Land i'the Countrey, all my Knights Liuing lies i'the Counter, Syn. there's his Caſtle now?

Which hee cannot be forc't out off, Madam.

Yes, if he would liue hungry a weeke, or two. Hunger they ſay breakes ſtone wals. But he is eene wel inough ſeru'd, Sin, that ſo ſoone as euer he had got my hand to the ſale of my inheritance run away from me, and I had bene his Punke, God bleſſe vs. Would the Knight o'the Sunne, or Palmerin of England, haue vſd their Ladies ſo, Syn? or ſir Lancelot? or ſir Triſtram?

I doe not know, Madam.

Then thou know'ſt nothing, Syn. Thou art a Foole, Syn. The Knighthood now a daies, are nothing like the Knighthood of old time. They rid a horſeback Ours goe afoote. They were attended by their Squires. Our by their Lacquaies. They went buckled in their Armor, Ours muffled in their Cloaks. They trauaild wilderneſſes; & deſarts, Ours dare scarce walke the ſtreets. They were ſtil preſt to engage their Honour, Ours ſtil ready to paune their cloaths. They would gallop on at ſight of a Mōſter, Ours run away at ſight of a Serieant. They would helpe poore Ladies, Ours make poore Ladies.

I Madam, they were Knights of the Round-Table at Wincheſter, that ſought Aduētures, but theſe of the Square Table at Ordinaries, that ſit at Hazard.

True Syn, let him vaniſh And tel me, what ſhal we pawne next

I mary, Madā, a timely conſideration, for our Hoſtes (prophane woman) has ſworne by bread, & ſalt, ſhe will not truſt vs another meale.

Let it ſtinke in her hand thē: Ile not be beholding to her. Let me ſee, my Iewels begone, & my Gownes, & my red veluet Petticote, that I was maried in, & my wedding ſilke ſtockings, & al thy beſt apparel, poore Syn. Good faith, rather thē thou ſhouldeſt pawne a ragge more, Il'd lay my Ladiſhip in lauender, if I knew where.

Alas, Madam, your Ladiſhip?

I, why? you do not ſcorne my Ladiſhip, though it is in a Waſtcoate? Gods my life, you are a Peate indeed! do I offer to morgage my Ladiſhip, for you, and for your auaile, and do you turne the Lip, and the Alas to my Ladiſhip?

Who? marry inow, I warrant you, if you'le ſeeke 'hem out. I'm ſure I remember the time, when I would ha' giuen a thouſand pound, (if I had had it) to haue bin a Ladie; and I hope I was not bred and borne with that appetite alone: ſome other gentle-borne o'the Citie, haue the ſame longing I truſt. And for my part, I would afford 'hem a peny'rth, my Ladiſhip is little the worſe, for the wearing, and yet I would bate a good deale of the ſumme. I would lend it (let me ſee) for 40 li • in hand, Syn, that would apparrell vs; and ten pound a yeare: that would keepe me, and you, Syn, (with our needles) and wee ſhould neuer need to be beholding to our ſciruy Parents? Good Lord, that there are no Fayries now adayes, Syn.

Why Madame?

To doe Miracles, and bring Ladyes money. Sure, if we lay in a cleanly houſe, they would haunt it, Synne? Ile trie. Ile ſweepe the Chamber ſoone at night, & ſet a diſh of water o'the Hearth. A Fayrie may come, and bring a Pearle, or a Diamonde Wee do not know Syn? Or, there may be a pot of Gold hid o'the backe-ſide, if we had tooles to digge for't? why may not wee two riſe earely i'the morning (Syn) afore any body is vp, and find a Iewell, i'the ſtreets, worth a 100. li.? May not ſome great Court-Lady, as ſhe comes from Reuels at midnight, looke out of her Coach, as 'tis running, and looſe ſuch a Iewell, and wee finde it? Ha?

They are prettie waking dreames; theſe.

Or may not ſome olde Vſurer bee drunke ouer-night, with a Bagge of money, and leaue it behinde him on a Stall? for God-ſake, Syn, let's riſe to morrow by breake of day, and ſee. I proteſt law, If I had as much money as an Alderman, I would ſeatter ſome on't, i'th'ſtreetes for poore Ladyes to finde, when their Knights were layd vp. And, nowe I remember my Song o'the Golden ſhowre, why may not I haue ſuch a fortune?

Ile ſing it, and try what luck I ſhall haue after it.

O, heer's my Mother! good lucke, I hope. Ha' you brought any money, Mother? Pray you Mother, your Bleſſing. Nay, ſweet Mother, doe not weepe.

God bleſſe you; I would I were in my Graue.

Nay, deare Mother, can you ſteale no more money from my father? dry your eyes, & comfort me. Alas, it is my Knights fault, and not mine, that I am in a Waſt-coate, and attyred thus ſimply.

Simply? Tis better then thou deſeru'ſt. Neuer whimper for the matter. Thou ſhouldſt haue look'd, before thou hadſt leap't. Thou wert a fire to be a Lady, and now your Ladiſhippe and you may both blowe at the Cole, for ought I know. Selfe doe, ſelfe haue. The haſtie perſon neuer wants woe, they ſay.

Nay then Mother, you ſhould ha loook'd to it; A bodie would thinke you were the older: I did but my kinde, l. He was a Knight, and I was fit to be a Lady. Tis not lacke of liking, but lacke of liuing, that ſeuers vs. And you talke like your ſelfe and a Cittiner in this, yfaith. You ſhew what Husband you come on Iwys. You ſmell the Touch-stone. He that will doe more for his daughter, that he has marryed a ſciruie Gold-end man, and his Prentiſe, then he will for his t'other Daughter, that has wedded a Knight, and his Cuſtomer. By this light, I thinke hee is not my legittimate Father.

O good Madam, doe not take vp your mother ſo.

Nay, nay, let her cene alone. Let her Ladiſhippe grieue me ſtill, with her bitter taunts and termes. I haue not dole inough to ſee her in this miſerable caſe, l? without her Veluet gownes, without Ribbands, without Iewels, without French-wires, or Cheat bread, or Quailes, or a little Dog, or a Genttleman Vſher, or any thing indeed, that's fit for a Lady.—

Except her tongue.

And I not able to releiue her neither, being kept ſo ſhort, by my husband. Well, God knowes my heart. I did little thinke, that euer ſhee ſhould haue had need of her ſiſter Golding.

Why Mother, I ha not yet. Alas, good Mother, bee not intoxicate for mee, I am well inough. I would not change huſbands with my Siſter, I. The legge of a Larke is better then the body of a Kight.

What ſweete Mother, What?

It's but ill food, when nothing's left but the Claw.

That's true Mother; Aye me.

Nay, ſweete Lady-bird, ſigh not. Child, Madame. Why doe you weepe thus? Bee of good cheere. I ſhall die, if you crye, and marre your complexion, thus?

Alas Mother, what ſhould I doe,

Goe to thy Siſter's Childe, Shee'le be proude, thy Lady-ſhip will come vnder her roofe. Shee'le winne thy Father to releaſe thy Knight, and redeeme thy Gownes, and thy Coach, and thy Horſes, and ſet thee vp againe.

But will ſhee get him to ſet my Knight vp, too?

That ſhee will, or any thing elſe thou'it aske her.

I will begin to loue her, if I thought ſhe would doe this.

Try her good Chucke, I warrant thee.

Dooſt thou thinke ſhee'le doo't?

I Madame, and be glad you will receiue it.

That's a good Mayden, ſhee tells you trew. Come, Ile take order for your debts i the Ale-houſe.

Goe, Syn, and pray for thy Franck, as I will, for my Pet.

I will receiue no Letters, M Woolf, you ſhal pardon me.

Good Father let me entreat you.

Sonne Goulding, I will not be tempted, I finde mine owne eaſie nature, and I know not what a well-pend ſubtile Letter may worke vpon it: There may be Tricks, Packing, doe you ſee? Returne with your Packet, Sir.

Beleeue it Sir, you need feare no packing here. Theſe are but Letters of Submiſſion, all.

Sir, I doe looke for no Submiſſion. I will beare my ſelfe in this like Blinde Iustice, Worke vpon that now. When the Seſſions come, they ſhall heare from me.

From whom come your Letters, M. Woolfe?

And't pleaſe you Sir. One from Sir Petronell. Another from Francis Quickeſiluer. And a third, from old Securitie, who is almoſt madde in Priſon. There are two, to your worſhip: One from M. Francis, Sir. Another from the Knight.

I doe wonder, M. Woolfe, why you ſhould trauaile thus, in a buſineſſe ſo contrarie to kinde, or the nature o'your Place! that you beeing the Keeper of a Priſon, ſhould labour the releaſe of your Priſoners! Whereas mee thinkes, it were farre more Naturall, & Kindely in you, to be ranging about for more, & not let theſe ſcape you haue alreadie vnder the Tooth. But they ſay, you Wolues, when you ha' ſuck't the blood once, that they are drie, you ha' done.

Sir, your Worſhip may deſcant as you pleaſe o'my name, but I proteſt, I was neuer ſo mortified with any mens diſcourſe, or behauiour in Priſon; yet I haue had of all ſorts of men i'the Kingdome, vnder my Keyes, & almoſt of all Religions i'the land, as Papiſt, Proteſtant, Paritane, Browniſt, Anabaptiſt, Millenary, Fam • ly o'Loue, Iewe, Turke, Infidell, Atheiſt, Good Fellow, &c.

And which of all theſe (thinkes M. Woolfe) was the beſt Religion?

Troth, M. Deputie, they that pay Fees beſt: we neuer examine their conſciences farder.

I beleeue you M. Woolfe. Good faith, Sir, Here's a great deale of humilitie i'theſe Letters.

Humilitie, Sir? I, were your Worſhippe an Eyewitneſſe of it, you would ſay ſo. The Knight will i'the Knights-Ward, doe what wee can Sir, and Maiſter Quickeſiluer, would be i'the Hole, if we would let him. I neuer knew, or ſaw Priſoners more penitent, or more deuout. They will ſit you vp all night ſinging of Pſalmes, and aedifying the whole Priſo • onely, Securitie ſings a note to high, ſometimes, becauſe he lyes i'the Two-penny ward. farre of, and can not take his tune. The Neighbours can not reſt for him, but come euery Morning to aske, what godly Priſoners we haue.

Which on 'hem is't is ſo deuout, the Knight, or the to'ther?

Both Sir. But the young Man eſpecially! I neuer heard his like! He has cut his hayre too▪ He is ſo well giuen, and has ſuch good gifts! Hee can tell you, almoſt all the Stories of the Booke of Martyrs, and ſpeake you all the Sicke-mans Salue without Booke.

And he has conuerted one Fangs a Sarieant, a fellow could neither write, nor read, he was call'd the Bandog o'the Counter: and he has brought him already to pare his nailes, and ſay his prayers, and 'tis hop'd, he will ſell his place ſhortly, and become an Intelligencer.

No more, I am comming all ready. If I ſhould giue any farder eare, I were takē. Adue good Maiſter Wolfe. Sonne, I doe feele mine owne weakneſſes, do not importune me. Pity is a Rheume, that I am ſubiect too, but I will reſiſt it. Maiſter Wolfe, Fiſh is cast away, that is cast in drye Pooles: Tell Hipocriſie, it will not do, I haue touchd, and tried too often; I am yet proofe, and I will remaine ſo: when the Seſſions come, they ſhall heare from me. In the meane time, to all ſuites, to all intreaties, to all letters, to all trickes, I will be deafe as an Adder, and blind as a Beetle, lay mine care to the ground, and lock mine eyes i'my hand, againſt all temptations. Exit.

You ſee, maiſter Wolfe, how inexorable he is. There is no hope to recouer him Pray you commend me to my brother Knight, and to my fellow Francis, preſent 'hem with this ſmall token of my loue; tell 'hem, I wiſh I could do 'hem any worthier office, but in this, 'tis deſperate: yet I will not faile to trie the vttermoſt of my power for 'hem. And ſir, as farre as I haue any credit with you pray you let 'hem want nothing: though I am not ambitious, they ſhould know ſo much.

Sir, both your actions, and words ſpeake you to be a true Gentleman. They ſhall know onely what is fit, and no more. Excunt.

Who would you ſpeake with, Sir?

I would ſpeake with one Securitie, that is priſoner here.

You'are welcome Sir. Stay there ile call him to you. Maiſter Securitie.

Who call's?

Here's a Gentleman would ſpeake with you.

What is he? Is't one that grafts my forehead now I am in priſon, and comes to ſee how the Hornes ſhoote vp, and proſper.

You muſt pardon him Sir: The old man is a little craz'd with his impriſonment.

What ſay you to me, Sir? Looke you here. My learned Counſaile, M. Bramble! Crye you mercie, Sir: when ſawe you my wife?

Shee is now at my houſe, Sir, and deſir'd mee that I would come to Viſite you and inquire of you your Caſe, that we might worke ſome meanes to get you foorth.

My Caſe, M. Bramble, is ſtone walles, and yron grates; you ſee it, this is the weakeſt part on't. And, for getting me forth, no meanes but hang my ſelfe, and ſo to be carryed foorth, from which they haue here bound me, in intollerable bands.

Why but what is't you are in for, Sir?

For my Sinnes, for my Sinnes Sir, whereof Mariage, is the greateſt. O, had I neuer marryed, I had neuer knowne this Purgatorie, to which Hell is a kinde of coole Bathe in reſpect: My wiues confederacie Sir, with olde Touchstone, that ſhee might keepe her Iubilaee, and the Feaſt of her New-Moone. Doe you vnderſtand me Sir? Enter Quickeſiluer.

Good Sir, goe in and talke with him. The Light dos him harme, and his example will bee hurtfull to the weake Priſoneis. Fit, Father Securitie, that you'le bee ſtill ſo prophane, will nothing humble you? Enter two Priſoners, with a Friend.

What's he?

O hee is a rare yong man. Doe you not know him?

Not I. I neuer ſaw him. I can remember.

Why, it is he that was the gallant Prentiſe of London, M. Touchſtones man.

Who Quickeſiluer?

I, this is hee.

Is this hee? They ſay, he has beene a Gallant indeede.

O, the royall eſt fellow, that euer was bred vp i'the Citie. He would play you his thouſand pound, a night at Dice; keepe Knights and Lords Companie; go with them to baudie houſes; had his fixe men in a Liuerie; kept a ſtable of Hunting horſes; and his Wench in her veluet Gowne, and her Cloth of ſiluer. Heres one Knight with him here in Priſon.

And how miſerably he is chaung'd!

O, that's voluntary in him; he gaue away all his rich clothes, aſſoone as euer hee came in here, among the Priſoners: and will eate o'the Basket, for humilitie.

Alas hee has no hope of life. Hee mortifies himſelfe. He dos but linger on, till the Seſſions.

O, he has pen'd the beſt thing, that hee calles his Repentance, or his Laſt Fare-well, that euer you heard: Hee is a pretie Poet, and for Proſe—You would wonder how many Priſoners he has help't out, with penning Petitions for 'hem, and not take a penny. Looke, this is the Knight, in the rugge Gowne. Standby.

Sir, for Securities Caſe, I haue told him; Say he ſhould be condemned to be carted, or whipt, for a Bawde, or ſo, why Ile lay an Execution on him o'two hundred pound, let him acknowledge a Iudgement, he ſhal do it in halfe an howre, they ſhal not all fetch him out, without paying the Execution, o'my word.

But can we not be bay'ld M. Bramble?

Hardly, there are none of the Iudges in Towne, elſe you ſhould remoue your ſelfe (in ſpight of him) with a Habeas Corpus: But if you haue a Friend to deliuer your tale ſenſibly to ſome Iuſtice o'the Towne, that hee may haue feeling of it, (doe you ſee) you may be bayl'd. For as I vnderſtand the Caſe, tis onely done, In Terrorem, and you ſhall haue an Action of falſe Impriſonment againſt him, when you come out: and perhaps a thouſand pound Coſtes. Enter M. Woolfe.

How now, M, Woolfe? What newes? what returne?

Faith, bad all: yonder will bee no Letters receiued. He ſayes the Seſſions ſhall determine it. Onely, M. Deputie Golding commends him to you, and with this token, wiſhes he could doe you other good.

I thanke him. Good M. Bramble, trouble our quiet no more; doe not moleſt vs in Priſon thus, with your winding deuiſes: Pray you depart. For my pat, I co mm t my cauſe to him that can ſuccour mee, let God worke his will. M. Woolfe, I pray you let this be diſtributed, among the Priſoners, and deſire 'hem to pray for vs.

It ſhall bee done, M. Francis.

An excellent temper!

Nowe God ſend him good-lucke. Exeunt.

But what ſaid my Father in Lawe, M. Woolfe?

Here's one would ſpeake with you, Sir.

Ile tell you anon Sir Petronell. who is't?

A Gentleman, Sir, that will not be ſeene. Enter Gold.

Where is he? M. Deputie! your wor: is wel-come.—

Peace!

Away, Srah.

Good faith, M. Woolfe, the eſtate of theſe Gentlemen, for whome you were ſo late and willing a Sutor, doth much affect mee: and becauſe I am deſirous to doe them ſome faire office, and find there is no meanes to make my Father relent, ſo likely, as to bring him to be a Spectator of their Miſeries; I haue ventur'd on a deuice, which is, to make make my ſelfe your Priſoner: entreating, you will preſently goe report it to my Father, and (ſayning, an Action, at ſute of ſome third perſon) pray him by this Token, that he will preſently, and with all ſecrecie, come hether for my Bayle; which trayne, (if any) I know will bring him abroad; and then, hauing him here, I doubt not but we ſhall be all fortunate, in the Euent.

Sir, I wil put on my beſt ſpeede, to effect it. Pleaſe you come in.

Yes; And let me reſt conceal'd, I pray you.

See, here a Benefit, truely done; when it is done timely, freely, and to no Ambition. Exit.

I will ſayle by you, and not heare you, like the wiſe Vliſſes.

Deare Father.

Husband.

Father.

M. Touchstone.

away ſyrens, I will inmure my ſelfe, againſt your cryes; and locke my ſelfe vpto our Lamentations.

Gentle Husband, heare me.

Father, It is I Father; my Lady Flaſh: my ſiſter and I am Friends.

Good Father.

Be not hardned, good M. Touchstone.

I pray you, Sir, be mercifull.

I am deaſe, I doe not heare you; I haue ſtopt mine eares, with Shoomakers waxe, and drunke Lethe, and Mandragora to forget you: All you ſpeake to mee, I commit to the Ayre. Enter VVoolfe.

How now, M. VVoolfe?

Where's M. Touchstone? I muſt ſpeake with him preſently: I haue loſt my breath for haſt.

What's the matter Sir? pray all be well.

Maiſter Deputy Goulding is arreſted vpon an execution, and deſires him preſently to come to him, forthwith.

Aye me; doe you heare Father?

Tricks, tricks, confederacie, tricks, I haue 'hem in my noſe, I ſent 'hem.

Who's that? maiſter Touchſtone?

Why it is M. Wolfe himſelfe, husband.

Father.

I am deaſe ſtill, I ſay: I will neither yeeld to the ſong of the Syren, nor the voice of the Hyena, the teares of the Crocodile, nor the howling o'the Wolfe: auoid my habitatio mōſters,

Why you are not mad Sir? I pray you looke forth, and ſee the token I haue brought you, Sir.

Ha! what token is it?

Do you know it Sir?

My ſonne Gouldings ring! Are you in earneſt Mai. Wolfe?

I by my faith ſir. He is in priſon, and requir'd me to vſe all ſpeed, and ſecrecie to you.

My Cloake there (pray you be patient) I am plagu'd for my Auſteritie; my Cloake: at whoſe ſuite maiſter Wolfe?

Ile tell you as we goe ſir. Exeunt.

Why, but is his offence ſuch as he cannot hope of life?

Troth it ſhould ſeeme ſo: and 'tis great pity; for he is exceeding penitent.

They ſay he is charg'd but on ſuſpicion of Felony, yet.

I but his maiſter is a ſhrewd fellow, Heele proue great matter againſt him.

I'de as liue as any thing, I could ſee his Farewell.

O tis rarely written: why Tobis may get him to ſing it to you, hee's not curious to any body.

O no. He would that all the world ſhould take knowledge of his Repentance, and thinkes he merits in't, the more ſhame he ſuffers.

Pray thee try, what thou canſt doe.

I warrant you, he will not deny it; if he be not hoarce with the often repeating of it. Exit.

You neuer ſaw a more courteous creature, then he is; and the Knight too: the pooreſt Priſoner of the houſe may command 'hem. You ſhall heare a thing, admirably pend.

Is the Knight any, Scholler too?

Pleaſe you ſtay here ſir, ile cal his worſhip downe to you.

See, he has brought him, and the Knight too. Salute him I pray, Sir, this Gentleman, vpon our report, is very deſirous to heare ſome piece of your Repentance. Enter Quick. Pet. &c.

Sir, withall my heart, & as I told M. Tobie, I ſhall be glad to haue any man a witneſſe of it. And the more openly I proſeſſe it, I hope it will appeare the hartier and the more vnſained.

Who is this? my man Francis? and my ſonne in Lawe?

Sir, it is all the Teſtmonie I ſhall leaue behind me to the World, and my Maſter, that I haue ſo offended.

Good Sir

I writ it, whē my ſpirits were oppreſt.

I, Ile be ſworne for you Francis.

It is in imitation of Maningtons; he that was hangd at Cambridge, that cut of the Horſes head at a blow.

So ſir.

To the tune of I waile in woe, I plunge in paine.

An excellent Ditty it is, and worthy of a new tune.

Excellent, excellent well.

O let him alone, Hee is taken already.

I thanke you Francis.

I thought by sea to runne, But Thames, and Tempeſt did me ſtay.

This cannot be fained ſure. Heauen pardon my ſeucrity. The Ragged Colt, may prooke a good Horſe.

How he liſtens! and is tranſported? He has forgot me.

Stay him M. Deputie, now is the time, we ſhall looſe the ſong elſe.

I proteſt it is the beſt that euer I heard.

How like you it Gentlemen?

O admirable, ſir!

This Stanze now following, alludes to the ſtory of Mannington from whence I tooke my proiect for my inuention.

Pray you goe on ſir.

Admirable ſir, & excellently conceited.

Alas ſir.

Sonne Goulding & M. Wolfe, I thank you: the deceipt is welcome, eſpecially from thee whoſe charitable ſoule in this hath ſhewne a high point of wiſedome and honeſty. Liſten. I am rauiſhed with his Repentance, and could ſtand here a whole prentiſhip to heare him,

Forth good ſir.

This is the laſt, and the Farewell.

And ſcape them ſhalt thou my penitent, & deare Frances.

Maſter!

Fatherl

I can no longer forbeare to doe your humility right: Ariſe, and let me honour your Repentance, with the hearty and ioyfull embraces, of a Father, and Friends loue. Quickſiluer, thou haſt eate into my breaſt, Quickſiluer, with the dropps of thy ſorrow, and kild the deſperate opinion I had of thy reclaime:

O ſir, I am not worthy to ſee your worſhipfull face.

Forgiue me Father.

Speake no more, all former paſſages, are forgotten, and here my word ſhall releaſe you. Thanke this worthy Brother & kind friend, Francis.—M. Wolfe. I am their Bayle;

Maiſter Touchſtone? Maiſter Touchſtone?

Who's that?

Securitie, Sir.

Pray you Sir, if youle be wonne with a Song, heare my lamentable tune, too:

Bring him forth, Maiſter Wolfe, and releaſe his bands. This day ſhable ſacred to Mercy, & the mirth of this Encounter, in the Counter.—See, we are encountred with more Suters.

Saue your Breath, ſaue your Breath; All things haue ſucceeded to your wiſhes: & we are heartely ſatiſfied in their euents.

Ah Runaway, Runaway! haue I caught you? And, how has my poore Knight done all this while?

Deare Lady-wife; forgiue me.

As heartely, as I would be forgiuen, Knight. Deare Father, giue me your bleſſing, and forgiue me too; I ha' bene proud, and laſciuious, Father; and a Foole, Father; and being raiſd to the ſtate of a wanton coy thing, calld a Lady, Father; haue ſcorn'd you, Father; and my Siſter; & my Siſters Veluet Cap, too; and would make a mouth at the Citty, as I ridde through it; and ſtop mine eares at Bow-bell: I haue ſaid your Beard was a Baſe one, Father; and that you look'd like Twierpipe, the Taberer; and that my Mother was but my Midwife.

Now God forgi'you, Child Madame.

No more Repetitions. What is elſe wanting, to make our Harmony full?

Only this, ſir. That my fellow Francis make amends to miſtreſſe Sindefie, with mariage.

With all my heart.

And Security giue her a do wer, which ſhall be all the