The wrong and violence you have offer'd us,
Burnt up our frontier Towns, made prey before ye
Both of our Beasts, and Corn; slain our dear subjects,
Open'd the fountain eyes of thousand widows,
That daily fling their curses on your fury;
What ordinary satisfaction can salve this?
What hasty thought-on Ransome give a remedy?
You must excuse us yet, we'll take more counsel:
In the mean time, not as a prisoner,
But as a noble Prince we entertain ye.
_Sy._ I am at your mercy Lady, 'tis my fortune,
My stubborn fate; the day is yours, you have me,
The valour of one single man has cross'd me,
Crost me and all my hope; for when the Battel's
Were at the hottest game of all their furies,
And conquest ready then to crown me Victor,
One single man broke in, one sword, one vertue,
And by his great example thousands followed,
Oh how I shame to think on't, how it shakes me!
Nor could our strongest head then stop his fury,
But like a tempest [']bore the field before him,
Till he arriv'd at me, with me he buck'lled,
A while I held him play; at length his violence
Beat me from my saddle, then on foot pursu'd me,
There triumph'd once again, then took me prisoner:
When I was gone, a fear possest my people.
_Dutch._ One single arm, in a just cause, heaven prospers.
Is not this stranger Knight as yet discover'd,
That we may give his virtue a due honor?
_Lord._ Not yet that we hear Madam, but to that purpose,
Two daies ago we publish'd Proclamations.
_Enter_ Soto _with a [T]rumpet, and_ Silvio.
_Soto._ Oh dainty Dutchess, here I bring that Knight
Before thy fragrant face, that warlike wight,
He that _Syenna's_ Duke, and all his Louts
Beat (as the Proverb seemly saies) to clouts:
He that unhors'd the man o' fame to boot,
And bootless taught his Grace to walk afoot:
He that your writings (pack'd to every pillar)
Promis'd promotion to, and store of siller,
That very man I set before thy Grace,
And once again pronounce, this man it was.
_Dutch._ A pretty foolish Squire, what must the Knight be?
_Sy._ Some Jugler or some Mad man.
_Sil._ I was not so,
When thy faint Troops in flocks I beat before me,
When, through the thickest of thy warlike horse,
I shot my self even to thy Standard Duke,
And there found thee, there singled thee, there shew'[d t]hee
The temper of my Sword. 'Tis true, thou stoodst me,
And like a noble soldier bidst me welcome;
And this I'll say, More honor in that arme,
I found and tryed, than all thy Army carried:
What follows thy imprisonment can tell thee.
_Sy._ His fair relation carries truth and virtue,
And by those Arms I see, (for such were his,
So old, so rusty) this may be he that forc'd me.
_Sil._ Do you know this Jewel, from your Cask I rent it,
Even as I clos'd, and forced ye from your saddle;
Do you now remember me?
_Sy._ This is the valour
Madam, for certain he, it must be he,
That day I wore this Jewel, you remember it.
_Dutch._ Yes, very well; not long before I sent it.
_Sy._ That day I lost this Jewel, in fight I lost it,
I felt his strokes, and felt him take it from me,
I wore it in my Cask; take it again Sir,
You won it nobly, 'tis the prize of honor.
_Soto._ My Father and my self are made for ever.
_Dutch._ Kneel down brave Sir thus my Knight first I raise ye,
Gird on a Sword; next General of my Army, [_Discovers himself._
Give him a staff; last, one in Counsel near me.
Now, make us happy with your sight: how? _Silvio_?
Have I on thee bestow'd this love, this honor?
The Treasons thou hast wrought set off with favours?
Unarm him presently: Oh thou foul Traitor,
Traitor to me, mine honor, and my Countrey,
Thou kindler of these Wars.
_Sil._ Mistake not Madam.
_Dutch._ Away with him to prison,
See him safe kept, the Law shall shortly sirrah,
Find fitter Titles for ye, than I gave ye.
_Soto._ This is the youth that kill'd me, I'll be quit with him,
What a blind rogue was I, I could never know him!
And't please your Grace, I claim the benefit
Of the Proclamation that proclaim'd him Traitor,
I brought him in.
_Dutch._ Thou shalt have thy reward for't.
_Soto._ Let him he hang'd, or drown'd then.
_Dutch._ Away with him.
_Sil._ Madam, I crave your promise first; you are tyed to it,
You have past your Princely word.
_Dutch._ Prove it, and take it.
_Sil._ This is the day appointed,
Appointed by your Grace for my appearance,
To answer to the Question.
_Dutch._ I remember it.
_Sil._ I claim it then.
_Dutch._ If you perform it not,
The penalty you claim too.
_Sil._ I not repent it;
If I absolve the words?
_Dutch._ Your life is free then,
You have drawn a speedy course above my wishes,
To my revenge, be sure ye hit it right,
Or I'll be sure you shall not scape the danger.
_Sil._ My rest is up now Madam.
_Dutch._ Then play it cunningly.
_Sil._ Now, where's the Hag? where now are all her promises,
She would be with me, strengthen me, inform me?
My death will now be double death, ridiculous:
She was wont still to be near, to feel my miseries,
And with her Art, I see her no where now;
What have I undertaken? now she fails me,
No comfort now I find, how my soul staggers!
Till this hour never fear nor doubt possest me,
She cannot come, she will not come, she has fool'd me;
Sure, she is the Devil, has drawn me on to ruine,
And now to death bequeaths me in my danger.
_Sy._ He stands distracted, and his colour changes.
_Dutch._ I have given him that will make his blood forsake him;
Shortly his life.
_Sy._ His hands and contemplation
Have motion still, the rest is earth already.
_Duc._ Come, will ye speak or pray? your time grows out Sir;
How every where he looks! he's at last cast.
_Enter_ Belvidere, _and secretly gives him a paper, and_ Exit.
_Sy._ His colour comes again fresh.
_Duc._ 'Tis a flash, Sir,
Before the flame burns out; can ye yet answer?
_Sil._ Yes Madam, now I can.
_Duc._ I fear you'll fail in't.
_Sil._ And do not think my silence a presage,
Or _Omen_ to my end, you shall not find it;
I am bred a Soldier not an Orator:
Madam, peruse this scrowl, let that speak for me,
And as you are Royal, wrong not the construction.
_Dutch._ By heaven you shall have fair play.
_Sil._ I shall look for't.
Question.
_Tell me what is that only thing,_
_For which all women long;_
_Yet having what they most desire,_
_To have it do's them wrong._
Answer.
_Tis not to be chaste, nor fair,_
_Such gifts malice may impair;_
_Richly trimm'd to walk or ride,_
_Or to wanton unespy'd;_
_To preserve an honest name,_
_And so to give it up to fame;_
_These are toys. In good or ill_
_They desire to have their Will;_
_Yet when they have it, they abuse it,_
_For they know not how to use it._
_Dutch._ You have answer'd right, and gain'd your life,
I give it.
_Sil._ Oh happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam,
Your promise ty'd a nobler favour to me.
_Duch._ 'Tis true, my Daughter too.
_Sil._ I hope you will keep it.
_Dutch._ 'Tis not in my power now, she is long since wander'd,
Stol'n from Court, and me; and what I have not
I cannot give: no man can tell me of her,
Nor no search find her out: and if not _Silvio_,
Which strongly I believe--
_Sil._ Mock me not Lady,
For as I am a servant to her virtue,
Since my first hour of exile, I ne'er saw her.
_Lord._ That she is gone, 'tis too too true, and lamentable,
Our last hope was in you.
_Sil._ What do I hear then,
And wherefore have I life bestow'd and honor?
To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at,
And fight, and fool? pray ye take your honors from me,
(My sorrows are not fit companions for 'em)
And when ye please my life: Art thou gone Mistriss,
And wander'st heaven knows where? this vow I make thee,
That till I find thee out, and see those fair eyes;
Those eyes that shed their lights, and life into me,
Never to know a friend, to seek a kindred,
To rest where pleasure dwels, and painted glory,
But through the world; the wide world, thus to wander,
The wretched world alone, no comfort with me,
But the meer meditations of thy goodness:
Honor and greatness, thus adieu.
_Enter_ Belvidere.
_Bel._ Stay _Silvio_,
And Lady sit again, I come for Justice.
_Sil._ What would she now?
_Bel._ To claim thy promise _Silvio_,
The boon thou swor'st to give me.
_Sy._ What may this be,
A Woman or a Devil?
_Duch._ 'Tis a Witch sure,
And by her means he came to untwist this Riddle.
_Sil._ That I am bound to her for my life, mine honor;
And many other thousand ways for comfort
I here confess: confess a promise too,
That what she would aske me to requite these favours,
Within the endeavour of my life to grant,
I would; and here I stand my words full master.
_Bel._ I wish no more: great Lady, witness with me,
The boon I crave for all my service to thee,
Is now to be thy wife, to grant me marriage.
_Sil._ How? for to marry thee? ask again woman,
Thou wilful woman, ask again.
_Bel._ No more Sir.
_Sil._ Ask Land, and Life.
_Bel._ I aske thee for a Husband.
_Soto._ Marry her, and beat her into Gun-powder,
She would make rare Crackers.
_Sil._ Ask a better fortune,
Thou art too old to marry: I a Soldier,
And always married to my sword.
_Bel._ Thy word Fool,
Break that, and I'll break all thy fortunes yet.
_Dutch._ He shall not,
I am witness to his faith: and I'll compel it.
_Sy._ 'Tis fit ye hold your word, Sir.
_Sil._ Oh most wretched.
_Dutch._ This was a fortune now beyond my wishes,
For now my Daughter's free, if e'er I find her.
_Sy._ But not from me.
_Dutch._ You are sharer in this happiness,
My self will wait upon this marriage,
And do the old woman all the honor possible.
_Sy._ I'll lead the Knight, and what there wants in dalliance,
We'll take it out in drink.
_Sil._ Oh wretched _Silvio_. [_Exeunt._
_Scæna Secunda._
_Enter_ Lopez _and_ Isabella.
_Lop._ Hast thou sent for him?
_Isab._ Yes.
_Lop._ A young man, saist thou?
_Isab._ Yes, very young, and very amorous.
_Lop._ And handsome?
_Isab._ As the Town affords.
_Lop._ And dar'st thou
Be so far good, and Mistriss of thine honor,
To slight these?
_Isab._ For my Husband's sake to curse 'em,
And since you have made me Mistriss of my fortune,
Never to point at any joy, but Husband,
I could have cozen'd ye, but so much I love ye,
And now so much I weigh the estimation
Of an unspotted wife--
_Lop._ I dare believe thee,
And never more shall doubt torment my spirit.
_Enter_ Penurio.
_Isab._ How now _Penurio_?
_Pen._ The thing is comming, Mistriss.
_Lop._ I'll take my standing.
_Pen._ Do, and I'll take mine. [_Exit_ Lopez.
_Isab._ Where didst thou leave him?
_Pen._ I left him in a Cellar,
Where he has paid me titely, paid me home Mistriss,
We had an hundred and fifty healths to you, sweet Mistriss,
And threescore and ten damnations to my Master;
Mistriss, shall I speak a foolish word to ye?
_Isab._ What's that _Penurio_?
The fellow's drunk.
_Pen._ I would fain know your body.
_Isab._ How's that? how's that prethee?
_Pen._ I would know it carnally,
I would conglutinate.
_Isab._ The reason sirrah?
_Pen._ Lobster, sweet Mistriss, Lobster.
_Isab._ Thy Master hears.
_Pen._ Lobster, sweet Master, Lobster.
_Isab._ Thou art the most pretious rogue.
_Enter_ Claudio.
_Pen._ Most pretious Lobster.
_Isab._ Do you see who's here? go sleep ye drunken rascal.
_Pen._ Remember you refuse me arm'd in Lobster. [_Exit._
_Isab._ Oh my lost _Rugio_, welcome, welcome, welcome,
A thousand welcomes here I'll seal.
_Cla._ Pray ye stay, Lady,
Do you love me ever at this rate? or is the fit now,
By reason of some wrong done by your Husband,
More fervent on ye?
_Isab._ Can I chuse but love thee?
Thou art my Martyr, thou hast suffered for me,
My sweet, sweet _Rugio_.
_Cla._ Do you do this seriously?
'Tis true, I would be entertained thus.
_Isab._ These are nothing,
No kisses, no embraces, no endearments,
To those--
_Cla._ Do what you will.
_Isab._ Those that shall follow,
Those I will crown our love withal; why sigh ye?
Why look ye sad my dear one?
_Cla._ Nay, faith nothing,
But methinks so sweet a beauty, as yours shews to me,
And such an innocence as you may make it,
Should hold a longer Siege.
_Isab._ Ha, you speak truth, Sir.
_Cla._ I would not have it so.
_Isab._ And now methinks,
Now I consider truly what becomes me,
I have been cozen'd, fearfully abus'd,
My reason blinded.
_Cla._ Nay, I did but jest with ye.
_Isab._ I'll take ye at your word, and thank ye for't Sir;
And now I see no sweetness in that person,
Nothing to stir me to abuse a Husband,
To ruine my fair fame.
_Cla._ Good _Isabella_.
_Isab._ No handsome man, nor any thing to doat on,
No face, no tongue to catch me, poor at all points,
And I an ass.
_Cla._ Why do ye wrong me Lady?
If I were thus, and had no youth upon me,
My service of so mean a way to win ye,
(Which you your self are conscious must deserve ye,
If you had thrice the beauty you possess, must reach ye)
If in my tongue your fame lay wrack'd, and ruin'd
With every cup I drink: if in opinion
I were a lost, defam'd man: but this is common
Where we love most, where most we stake our fortunes,
There least and basest we are rewarded: fare ye well,
Know now I hate you too as much, contemn ye,
And weigh my credit at as high a value.
_Isab._ May be I did but jest.
_Cla._ Ye are a woman,
And now I see your wants, and mine own follies,
And task my self with indiscretion,
For doating on a face so poor.
_Isab._ Say ye so Sir,
(I must not lose my end) I did but jest with you,
Only fool'd thus to try your faith: my _Rugio_,
Do you think I could forget?
_Cla._ Nay, 'tis no matter.
_Isab._ Is't possible I should forsake a constancy,
So strong, so good, so sweet?
_Cla._ A subtle woman.
_Isab._ You shall forgive me, 'twas a trick to try ye,
And were I sure [y]e lov'd me--
_Cla._ Do you doubt now?
_Isab._ I do not doubt, but he that would profess this,
And bear that full affection you make shew of,
Should do--
_Cla._ What should I do?
_Isab._ I cannot shew ye.
_Cla._ I'll try thee damnedst Devil: hark ye Lady,
No man shall dare do more, no service top me,
I'll marry ye.
_Isab._ How Sir?
_Cla._ Your Husband's sentenc'd,
And he shall dye.
_Isab._ Dye?
_Cla._ Dye for ever to ye,
The danger is mine own.
_Isab._ Dye did ye tell me?
_Cla._ He shall dye, I have cast the way.
_Isab._ Oh foul man,
Malicious bloody man.
_Enter_ Lopez.
_Lop._ When shall he dye, Sir,
By whom, and how?
_Cla._ Hast thou betraid me, woman?
_Isab._ Base man, thou would'st [h]ave ruin'd me, my name too
And like a Toad, poison'd my virtuous memory:
Further than all this, dost thou see this friend here,
This only friend, shame take thy Lust and thee,
And shake thy soul, his life, the life I love thus,
My life in him, my only life thou aim'st at.
_Cla._ Am I catcht thus?
_Lop._ The Law shall catch ye better.
_Isab._ You make a trade of betraying Womens honors,
And think it noble in ye to be lustful,
Report of me hereafter--
_Cla._ Fool'd thus finely?
_Lop._ I must intreat ye walk, Sir, to the Justice,
Where if he'll bid ye kill me--
_Cla._ Pray stay awhile, Sir,
I must use a Players shift, do you know me now Lady?
_Lop._ Your brother _Claudio_ sure.
_Isab._ Oh me, 'tis he Sir,
Oh my best brother.
_Cla._ My best sister now too,
I have tryed ye, found ye so, and now I love ye,
Love ye so truly nobly.
_Lop._ Sir, I thank ye,
You have made me a most happy man.
_Cla._ Thank her Sir,
And from this hour preserve that happiness,
Be no more fool'd with jealousie.
_Lop._ I have lost it,
And take me now new born again, new natur'd.
_Isab._ I do, and to that promise tye this faith,
Never to have a false thought tempt my virtue.
_Lop._ Enough, enough, I must desire your presence,
My Cosin _Rhodope_ has sent in all haste for us,
I am sure you will be welcome.
_Cla._ I'll wait on ye.
_Lop._ What the Project is--
_Isab._ We shall know when we are there, Sir. [_Exeunt._
_Scæna Tertia._
_Enter Dutchess_, Syenna, _Lords_, Sylvio.
_Dutch._ Joy to you _Silvio_, and your young fair Bride,
You have stolen a day upon us; you cannot wooe, Sir.
_Sil._ The joyes of Hell hang over me, oh mischief,
To what a fortune has the Devil driven me!
Am I reserv'd for this?
_Sy._ Beshrew me, Sir,
But you have gotten you a right fair bedfellow,
Let you alone to chuse.
_Sil._ I beseech your Grace,
'Tis misery enough to have met the Devil,
Not mens reproaches too.
_Sy._ How old is she?
_Dutch._ A very Girl, her eye delivers it.
_Sy._ Her teeth are scarce come yet.
_Lord._ What goodly children
Will they two have now! she is rarely made to breed on,
What a sweet timber'd body!
_Dutch._ Knotty i' th' back,
But will hold out the stronger; What a nose!
_Sy._ I marry, such a nose, so rarely mounted,
Upon my conscience, 'twas the part he doted on.
_Dutch._ And that fine little eye to it, like an Elephant's.
_Lord._ Yes, if her feet were round, and her ears sachels.
_Sy._ For any thing we know.
_Sil._ Have ye no mercy?
No pity in your bloods to use a wretch thus?
You Princes in whose hearts the best compassions,
Nearest to those in Heaven, should find fit places,
Why do you mock at misery? fling scorns and baseness
Upon his broken back, that sinks with sorrows?
Heaven may reward you too, and an hour come,
When all [your] great designes shall shew ridiculous,
And your hearts pinch'd like mine. [_Musick in divers places._
_Dutch._ Fie Sir, so angry
Upon your wedding day? go smug your self,
The Maid will come anon: what Musick's this?
_Sy._ I warrant you some noble preparation.
_Dutch._ Let's take our places then.
_Sil._ More of these Devils dumps?
Must I be ever haunted with these witchcrafts?
_Enter a Masquerado of several shapes, and Dances, after which,_
_enter_ Belvidere _and disperses them; before the Maskers enter_
_two Presenters, among which are_ Bartello, Lopez, Claudio,
Isabella, Rhodope, Soto, Penurio, Jaquenet.
_1 Pre._ Room, room for merry spirits, room,
Hither on command we come,
From the good old Beldam sent,
Cares and sorrows to prevent.
_2._ Look up _Silvio_, smile, and sing,
After winter comes a Spring.
_1._ Fear not faint fool what may follow,
Eyes that now are sunk and hollow,
By her Art may quick return
To their flames again, and burn.
_2._ Art commands all youth, and blood,
Strength and beauty it makes good.
_1._ Fear not then, despair not, sing
Round about as we do spring:
Cares and sorrows cast away,
This is the old wives Holy-day. [_Dance here, then enter_ Belvidere.
_Dutch._ Who is this?
_Sy._ The shape of _Belvidere_.
_Bel._ Now _Silvio_,
How dost thou like me now?
_Sil._ Thus I kneel to thee.
_Bel._ Stand up, and come no nearer, mark me well too,
For if thou troublest me, I vanish instantly:
Now chuse wisely, or chuse never,
One thou must enjoy for ever.
Dost thou love me thus?
_Sil._ Most dearly.
_Bel._ Take heed fool, it concerns thee nearly.
If thou wilt have me young and bright,
Pleasing to thine eye and sight,
Courtly, and admir'd of all,
Take heed lest thy fame do fall,
I shall then be full of scorn,
Wanton, proud, beware the horn,
Hating what I lov'd before,
Flattery apt to fall before,
All consuming, nothing getting,
Thus thy fair name comes to setting.
But if old, and free from these
Thou shalt chuse me, I shall please:
I shall then maintain thee still,
With my virtue and my skill
Still increase and build thy name,
Chuse now _Silvio_ here I am.
_Sil._ I know not what to say, which way to turn me,
Into thy Soveraign will I put my answer.
_Bel._ I thank ye Sir, and my Will thus rewards ye,
Take your old Love, your best, your dearest _Silvio_:
No more Spells now, nor further shapes to alter me,
I am thy _Belvidere_ indeed. Dear Mother,
There is no altering this; heavens hand is with it:
And now you ought to give me, he has fairly won me.
_Sil._ But why that Hag?
_Bel._ In that shape most secure still,
I followed all your fortunes, serv'd, and counsell'd ye,
I met ye at the Farmers first, a Countrey wench,
Where fearing to be known, I took that habit,
And to make ye laughing sport at this mad marriage,
By secret aid of my friend _Rhodope_
We got this Maske.
_Sil._ And I am sure I have ye.
_Bel._ For ever now, for ever.
_Dutch._ You see it must be,
The wheel of destiny hath turn'd it round so.
_Sy._ It must, it is, and curs'd be he that breaks it.
_Dutch._ I'll put a choice to you, Sir: ye are my prisoner.
_Sy._ I am so, and I must be so, till it please you--
_Dutch._ Chuse one of these, either to pay a Ransom,
At what [rate] I shall set it, which shall be high enough,
And so return a Free-man, and a Batchelor,
Or give me leave to give you a fit wife,
In honor every way [your] Graces equal,
And so your Ransom's paid.
_Sy._ You say most nobly,
_Silvio_'s example's mine, pray chuse you for me.
_Dutch._ I thank ye Sir, I have got the mastry too,
And here I give your Grace a Husbands freedom:
Give me your hand, my Husband.
_Sy._ You much honor me,
And I shall ever serve ye for this favour.
_Bart._ Come _Lop[e]z_, let us give our wives the breeches too,
For they will have 'em.
_Lop._ Whilst they rule with virtue
I'll give 'em, skin and all.
_Isa._ We'll scra[t]ch it off else.
_Sil._ I am glad ye live, more glad ye live to honor,
And from this hour a stronger love dwell with us;
Pray you take your man again.
_Cla._ He knows my house, Sir.
_Dutch._ 'Tis sin to keep you longer from your loves,
We'll lead the way; and you young men that know not
How to preserve a wife, and keep her fair,
Give 'em their soveraign Wills, and pleas'd they are.
_Here endeth_ Women pleas'd.
THE
NIGHT-WALKER,
OR THE
LITTLE THIEF.
A Comedy.
The Actors Names.
_Tom Lurcher._
_Jack Wildbrain._
_Gentlemen._
_Justice Algripe._
_Frank Hartlove._
_Toby._
_Servants._
_Sexton._
_Bell-Ringers._
_Boy._
_A Lady, Mother to_ Maria.
_Maria._
_Nurse._
_Mistriss_ Newlove.
_Women._
_Mistriss._
_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._
_Enter_ Tom Lurcher, _and_ Jack Wild-brain.
_Lur. Jack._
_Wild._ What wind brought thee hither?
In what [old] hollow tree, or rotten wall
Hast thou been like a Swallow all this winter,
Where hast thou been man?
_Lur._ Following the Plow.
_Wild._ What Plow? Thou hast no Land,
Stealing is thy own purchase.
_Lur._ The best inheritance.
_Wild._ Not in my opinion,
Thou hadst five hundred pound a year.
_Lur._ 'Tis gone,
Prethee no more on't, have I not told thee,
And oftentimes, nature made all men equal,
Her distribution to each child alike;
Till labour came and thrust a new Will in,
Which I allow not: till men won a priviledge
By that they call endeavour, which indeed
Is nothing but a lawful Cosenage,
An allowed way to cheat, why should my neigh[bou]r
That hath no more soul than his Horse-keeper,
Nor bounteous faculties above a Broom-man,
Have forty thousand pounds, and I four groats;
Why should he keep it?
_Wi[l]._ Thy old opinion still.
_Lur._ Why should that Scrivener,
That ne'er writ reason in his life, nor anything
That time e'ver gloried in, that never knew
How to keep any courtesie conceal'd,
But _Noverint Universi_ must proclaim it,
Purchase perpetually, and I a rascal:
Consider this, why should that mouldy Cobler
Marry his Daughter to a wealthy Merchant,
And give five thousand pounds, is this good justice?
Because he has a tougher constitution;
Can feed upon old Songs, and save his money,
Therefore must I go beg?
_Wild._ What's this to thee?
Thou canst not mend [it], if thou beest determin'd
To rob all like a Tyrant, yet take heed
A keener justice do not overtake thee,
And catch you in a Nooze.
_Lur._ I am no Wood-cock,
He that shall sit down frighted with that foolery
Is not worth pity, let me alone to shuffle,
Thou art for wenching.
_Wild._ For beauty I, a safe course,
No halter hangs in [my] way, I defie it.
_Lur._ But a worse fate, a wilful poverty,
For where thou gain'st by one that indeed loves thee,
A thousand will draw from thee, 'tis thy destiny;
One is a kind of weeping cross _Jack_,
A gentle Purgatory, do not fling at all,
You'll pay the Box so often, till you perish.
_Wild._ Take you no care for that sir, 'tis my pleasure,
I will imploy my wits a great deal faster
Than you shall do your fingers, and my loves,
If I mistake not, shall prove riper harvest
And handsomer, and come within less danger.
Where's thy young Sister?
_Lur._ I know not where she is, she is not worth caring for,
She has no wit.
Oh you'd be nibling with her,
She's far enough I hope, I know not where,
She's not worth caring for, a sullen thing,
She wou'd not take my counsel _Jack_,
And so I parted from her.
_Wild._ Leave her to her wants?
_Lur._ I gave her a little money, what I could spare,
She had a mind to th'Countrey, she is turn'd,
By this, some Farriers dairy maid, I may meet her
Riding from Market one day, 'twixt her Dorsers,
If I do, by this hand I wo'not spare
Her butter pence.
_Wild._ Thou wilt not rob thy Sister.
_Lur._ She shall account me for her Egs and Cheeses.
_Wild._ A pretty Girl, did not old _Algripe_ love her?
A very pretty Girl she was.
_Lur._ Some such thing,
But he was too wise to fasten; let her pass.
_Wild._ Then where's thy Mistriss?
_Lur._ Where you sha'not find her,
Nor know what stuff she is made on; no indeed Sir,
I choose her not for your use.
_Wild._ Sure she is handsome.
_Lur._ Yes indeed is she, she is very handsome, but that's all one.
_Wild._ You'll come to th' Marriage?
_Lur._ Is it to day.