Woman in her


Printed by E.A. for Thomas Archer, and are to be
solde at his shop in the Popes-head-Pallace, neere
the Royall Exchange.


Everie Woman in her Humor.

Enter Flavia as a Prologue

Gentles of both sexes and all sortes, I am sent to bid yee welcome; I am but instead of a Prologue, for a she-prologue is as rare as an Usurers Almes, non reperitur in usu; and the rather I come woman because men are apt to take kindelye any kinde thing at a womans hand; and wee poore foules are but too kinde if wee be kindely intreated, marry otherwise, there I make my Aposiopesis. The Author hath indeede made me an honest merrye wench one of his humorists, yet I am so much beholding to him, I cannot get mee a husband in his play that's worthe the having, unlesse I be better halfe of the sutor my selfe; and having imposed this audacity on me, he sends me hither first for exercise. I come among ye all, these are the Contentes: that you would heare with patience, judge with lenity, and correct with smiles; for the which our endeavour shall shew it selfe, like a tall fellow in action; if we shall joyne hands, a bargaine.

As a lowely earnest, I give this curtesie before,
And in conceite I give ye twenty more.


Enter Accutus and Graccus.

Gra. Nay but, Accutus, prethee what mis-shapen vizard of Melancholly hast thou mask't thy selfe in? Thou lookst as thou wer't changing thy religion; what? is there a breach in thy Faith? come declare, and let me set thy [my?] wits on worke to amend it.

Acut. Ha, ha, ha!

Gra. Prettie; a man's well advisd to offer good counsell, and be laught at for his labour: we shall shortly have no counsellors, but Physitians; I spend my breath to thee, and thou answerest me some half an houre after in a sem[i]breve, or like to a Sexton, with a Sobeit or Amen.

Acu. Condemn my Stars then!

Grac. I should wrong am then, as thou dost with a false inditment. I know it took not beeing at thy birth: thou hast been merrie, thou hast sounded hoopes, swallowed whiffes, walkt late, worn favours, seene whoresons; thou canst feele and understand, come thou hast bene a sinner, unloade, discharge, untune, confesse, is Venus dominatrix? art not in love?

Acut. Yes, I love God and my neighbors.

Grac. Then either for God's sake or thy Neighbors, or both, be smothe, and participate; ist not some underlayer, some she Cammell, that will beare as much of her belly as three beastes on their backes? some Lanthorne-maker? Ile holde thy head; come, up with't!

Acut. Prethee, I hate none, but heaven hate me if I be in love with any.

Grac. Off with these clogs; then break prison and get out of this melancholly Gaole. Harke how the generall noise doth welcome from the Parthian wars; each spirit's jocund, fraught with glee, then wrong not thine with this dull meditation.


Accut. Oh! how doe they then wrong my meditation! my thoughts are with themselues at a counsell; til with noise, and thou with continuall talke, hast driven them to a nonplus.

Gra. Then make me of thy counsell, and take my advice, for ile take no denyall; Ile not leave thee til the next new Almanackes be out of date; let him threaten the sharpest weather he can in Saint Swithin week, or it snow on our Ladies face, ile not budge, ile be thy mid-wife til thou beest delivered of this passion.

Accut. Partake then, and give me the beleefe; thinkst thou or knowst thou any of this opinion, that that mooving marish element, that swels and swages as it please the Moone, to be in bignes equall to that solid lump that brings us up?

Gra. I was sure that thou wer't beyond the Antipodes; faith, I am of that faith I was brought up in, I have heard my Father say, and i'me sure, his Recordes came from his Father, that Land and Sea are in nature thus much alike; the owne growes by the Sunne, the other by the Moone, both by God's blessing, and the Sea rather the greater; and so thinke I.

Acut. Good; there we have a farther scope, and holde the sea can (as a looking glasse) answer with a meere simile any mooving shape uppon the earth.

Gra. Nay, that's most certaine, I have heard of Sea-horses, Sea-calves, and Sea-monsters.

Acut. Oh, they are monstrous, madde, merrie, wenches, and they are monsters.

Grac. They call them Sea-maides, or Mermaides, singing sweetelye, but none dares trust them; and are verie like our Land-wenches, devouring Serpents, from the middle downeward.

Acut. Thou hast even given me satisfaction, but hast thou this by proofe?

Grac. Not by my travels (so God helpe me): marrie, ile bring ye fortie Saylers, will sweare they have seene them.


Acut. In truth!

Grac. In truth or otherwise.

Acut. Faith they are not unlike our land-monsters, else why should this Maximilian Lord, for whom these shoots and noises befits thus, forsake his honours to sing a Lullabye?

These seeming Saints, alluring evils,
That make earth Erebus, and mortals devils—

Gra. Come, thou art Sea-sicke, and will not be well at ease, til thou hast tane a vomit: up with 't.

Acu. Why, ifaith, I must; I can not soothe the World
With velvet words and oyly flatteries,
And kiss the sweatie feet of magnitude
To purchace smiles or a deade mans office;
I cannot holde to see a rib of man,
A moytie of it selfe, commaund the whole;
Bafful and bend to muliebritie.
O female scandal! observe, doe but observe:
Heere one walks ore-growne with weeds of pride,
The earth wants shape to apply a simile,
A body prisoned up with walles of wyer,
With bones of whales; somewhat allyed to fish,
But from the wast declining, more loose doth hang
Then her wanton dangling lascivious locke
Thats whirld and blowne with everie lustfull breath;
Her necke in chaines, all naked lyes her brest,
Her body lighter than the feathered Crest.
Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip,
Even as the banckrout credit of her husband
Cannot equal her with honors liverie.
What does she care if, for to deck her brave,
Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave!
Another in a rayling pulppet key,
Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice,
And in the presence of her good-man Goate
Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men


That use such beastly and inhumane talke;
When being in private all her studies warne
To make him enter into Capricorn.
Another as she goes treads a Canarie pace,
Jets it so fine and minces so demure
As mistris Bride upon her marriage day;
Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas,
Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus.
Another, with a spleene-devoured face,
Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,
Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting,
Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes
Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds
With open mouths pursuing of their game.
Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet,
With her the Devill can nere live in quiet.
Yet these are weaker vessels, heaven doth knowe;
Lay on them ought but ease, you doe them wrong;
They are as weake as water and indeede as strong,
And then, like mightie ships when pellets sincke,
To them lay more men, sheele never shrinke.

Enter Getica and Boss, with a dog.

Boss. Mistris, that face wants a fresh Glasse.

Gent. Prethee, dib it in well, Bos.

Acut. Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above thee; Belzebub, paint thy face there's some will love thee.

Boss. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a pin and web argent in hayre de Roy.

Grac. And a fooles head in the Crest.

Bos. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and ye will.


Gent. Enough, sweete Bosse, throwe a little water to spurt's face and lets away.

Bo. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most sweete mistriss, most derydent starre.

Acut. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye.

Grac. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge before.

Bosse. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before me, ergo, not at my backe, et ergo, not moone sir.

Gent. What's your will sir?

Acut. That you would leave us.

Boss. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch.

Exeunt Getica and Boss, with the dog.

Acut. Away, keepe no distance, even both together, for wit ye may be Coacht together.
What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme,
The shape and workmanship of omnipotency
To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse,
That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe,
Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene
And feare least the all over-seeer
Can without vengeance see these ignomies?

Grac. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants
and entertained like Beggers;
Think'st thou but any honorable Gate,
But will be shut against these Butterflies?

Acut. Oh Graccus! thou beguil'st opinion:
The Gates of great men stand more wide
To entertaine a foole then Cresus armes
To hug the Golden God; and faster bard
Against necessitie then Dives entrance
At Olympus gate.

Enter Servulus, Scillicet, Philautus and boy.

Servu. Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse.


Boy. Tis but one and all, sir.

Acut. Angels protect us, what have we heare?

Boy. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, for they are five minutes ere windefall of your Glasse.

Ser. Sir, be credible, tis ballanst to be superlative politicke custome in these houres to dwell in shallowe accoutrements, as a defence for the abilitie of his pursse from the infringed Oath of some impudent face, that will borrowe a gentlemans revenewes if he be vestally adornd: Ile tell you sir by this bright Horrison—

Scil. A word, I pray yee, sir, ere ye go any further: Boy, my Tables.

Boy. Your Tables are ready, Sir, and all the men ye keep which is indeede halfe a Boy, Scillicet Videlicet.

Scil. I pray ye let me request that oath of you.

Serv. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie: write, 'by this bright Horrison.'

Phy. 'Here's none but only I' [sing]; Boy, how likest thou my head of hayre?

Boy. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is not a hayre better than it should be.

Phy. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy?

Boy. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.

Phy. How, Boy?

Boy. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, I pray yee.

Phy. Most ingenious!

Acu. O muffle muffle, good Graccus, do not taint thy sence
With sight of these infectious animalles,
'Less reason in thee have the upper hand
To governe sence, to see and shun the sight.
Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest;
Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.'


Scil. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce ye, sir?

Serv. Horison!

Scil. Horison:—the Widowes mite, sir.

Serv. Not for the Soldans crown, sir.

Scil. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common oath.

Serv. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes.

Scil. Faith, tis verie true.

Accu. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest.

Serv. As for example, by this illuminate welkin.

Scil. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to.

Accut. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace.
Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold
Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell
And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell.

Boy. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if Poliphemus tother eye were out his choice might be as good as Argus broade waking, so difficult is the difference.

Phy. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts?

Boy. Sir.

Phy. Is it not now most amyable and faire?

Boy. Yes sir, God be praised.

Phy. What meanst thou, Boy?

Boy. The weather, sir.

Phy. I meane my haire and face, Boy.

Boy. Twere amiable if it would not alter.

Phy. Wherfore I often repaire it.


Boy. Me thinkes that should weare it the sooner.

Phy. Not so Boy, for to trimme the Hayer well is a rare qualitie; to bee rarelye quallified is to be wise; apply, Boy.

Boy. That you are wise in trimming your hayre, Maister?

Phy. Right, to be wise is to be rare, for it is rare to see a wise man.

Boy. True, Maister, but if youle see a foole, looke in your Glasse, maister!

Phy. Goe to, I must correct you, Boy.

Boy. You can correct no more then is your own; I am but halfe yours to commaund, if you steale away any parte that is not your owne you are so farre in daunger as the striking of an other mans servant.

Scil. By this illuminate welkin! most sincere and singular: as a small remembrance.

Serv. Not for to winne the faire Angelica.

Scillicet. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now. Sir, I doe not bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes.

Acut. I, when the foole is clad in clay,
It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye.

Phy. Signior Scillicet, I assure you I have discovered the most queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the interview; tis in pricke-song.


Scil. That's excellent and rare.

Phi. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect.

Grac. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels.

Acut. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and you an Asse? and you a knave?

Phy. Zoundes! an Asse?

Scil. A Foole?

Ser. A Knave, without respect?

Acut. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve.

Omn. Helpe, Helpe!

Gra. Prethee let's away.

Acut. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble,
Farewell, another time ile pay ye double.


Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises.

Host. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame Helena, let thine Host alon with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go by; bring Clubs, I say.

Scil. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to their heeles, for indeed heere are of us—

Host. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies.

Scil. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I keepe it out of my clothes.

Host. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke [p.11] as an Emperor; welcome, my brave bullies.

Ser. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes.

Scil. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it.

Host. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him.

Scil. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him?

Host. There's so many swaggerers; but alasse, how fel ye out?

Scil. By the welkin, I gave him not a foule word; first he calles me foole, then he makes a full blowe at my body, and if, by good chance, I had not warded it with my head, he might have spoild me.

Enter Prentices.

Host. There, there my fine fil-pots; give the word as you passe; anon, anon, sir anon; heere and there in the twinckling, looke well at the barre, there again my little Mercuries, froath them up to the brimme, and fill as tis needeful; if their Pates be full of Wine let your Pottles be three quarters; trip and goe, here and there; now, my brave Lad, wash thy woundes with good Wine; bidde am welcom, my little Sybil; put sugar in his hole there, I must in to my guests; sleepe soundly till morning; Canarie is a Jewell, and a Figge for Browne-bastard.


Hostes. Gentlemen, ye are welcom, though my husband be a little talkative, yet truly he is an unreasonable honest man, yee shall finde his words and his sayings all one.

Scil. I thinke no less, yet I would desire to enter as time and place shall serve.

Hostes. Ile lead the way forsooth.

Phy. Nay, pray ye, Hostesse, a word. I say little, but i'me sure I have sustained the most wrong; by this light, I [p.12] had rather he had broke my head in three places; I pray you lend me a brush, hee has put my hat quite out of fashion.

Host. That shall ye sir, a brush there, hoe!

Enter Boss, with the dog.

Bos. Salve, sis salvus. I pray yee which of you five is Hostis of this house?

Boy. That's easily discernd, for foure weare breeches.

Bos. Nere the sooner for that, my diminitive youth, for women now adaies weare breeches as well as men; mary, the difference lies in the bawble.

Hostis. Well, sir, to open the truth, I am the Hostesse.

Bos. The fruit is known, by the Tree at the first view, as the Author writes, learnedly; come basilus manus.

Scil. This kissing becomes a Gentleman, ile use it sure.

Bos. Secondly, Mistris Hostesse, I would know what lodging ye have for my Lady and her traine.

Hostis. What will serve your turne, sir?

Bos. Ile call my selfe to account and specifie thus: my Lady and her Dogge, that's two visible; then there's the Dogge and my Lady, thats four invisible; then there's my Ladies dogge and I, quoth the dogge, that's six; then theres sequence of three, viz., the Dogge, and I, and my Lady; then there's a pair of Knaves, viz., the Dogge & my selfe & my Lady turnd up; viz., my Lady sequence of three, a paire of Knaves and my Lady, turn'd up to play upon:—we can have no less than five beds.

Hostis. Truely you must lye close together (the Servants I meane), for I am so thrust with Guest I can hardly spare so many.

Bos. Faith, weele lie together as close as we can; there's my Lady and her dogge lye al together and I at the bed's feete, and theres all our family of Love.

Hostis. How farre is your mistris behinde?

Bos. The truth is the fatall sisters have cut the thred of her Cork-shoe, & shee's stept aside in to a Coblers shop to take a true stitch, whether I mean to send myself as [p.13] a Court of Guard to conduct her, but see, oh inconstant fortune! see where she comes, solus.

Enter Getica.

Gent. Bos, you serve me well, to let me wait upon my selfe.

Bos. Of two evils, the least is to be chosen, I had a care of your puppie being less then your selfe.

Scil. Gentlewoman, you have an excellent Ch: I have an appetite as a man would say.

Gent. Whats your will, sir?

Scil. Truth will to light, and the truth is I have an appetite to kisse you.

Phil. This point would become a Gentleman, sure; I pray, who trim'd it so?

Gent. My man, forsooth.

Phy. Sir, I desire your acquaintance; tis excellent, rare.

Gent. You would have said so, had you seene it an houre since.

Ser. Heeres game for me! I hunt for fooles and have sprung a covey.

Hostis. Gentles, please you, draw neere? lead the way into the chambers.

Bos. Bos is the name of a thing may be seene, felt, heard, or understood, and the nominative case goes before my Mistris the Verbe; my mistris requires an accusative case to follow, as usus feminae proptus facit.

[Exeunt al but Hostis.

Hostis. Oh fye upont, who would be an hostis, & could do otherwise? A Ladie has the most lascivious life, conges and kisses, the tyre, the hood, the rebato, the loose bodyed Gowne, the pin in the haire, and everie day change, when an Hostis must come and go at everye mans pleasure. And what's a Lady more then another body? Wee have legs, and hands, rowling eyes and hanging lips, sleek browes, and cherie cheeks & other things as Ladies have, but the fashion carries it away.

Prentices passe over.

Re-enter Host.

Host. There, there, my little Lacky boies, againe, again, my fine fil-pots! where is my fine Hostis? come, come, my little Dido, set your corks on a creaking, my knaves are unthrifty; dance not your Canaries heere up & down, looke about to my Guests I say.


Hostis. I, I have much joy, an Hostesse!

Host. What, abides my Penelope? heere stand[s] thy Ulisses, ile tarry with thee still, thou shall want for no cost. Ile buy thee a brave wistle; looke about to my Guestes, I say.

Hostis. I, Hostesses will bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but the weakest must to the wall still.

Host. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels; thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my Guests then.


Hostis. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might have done other wise.

Enter Cittizens Wife.

City W. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better since men were Purse-bearers.

Hosty. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife.

Citie wi. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her.


Hosty. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what.

City wi. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body is to beare the pursse.

Hostis. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not.

Citty wife. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no weake vessels, I warrant them.

Enter Prentice.

Pren. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye.

Hostis. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, I warrant ye.

[Exit Prentice.

City w. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down late, & a thousand things they looke not too.

Hostis. And yet they must have the government of all.

City w. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends.

Hostis. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it?

City w. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter deepe, measured by the yard.

Hostis. Indeede, by the yard.

City w. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big feete you set it with?

Hostis. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient—

Enter Prentice.

Prent. Mistris, my maister would desire you to come in.

City w. She shall not come yet, if you lay down the bucklers you lose the victorie.

Hostis. By my troth I must goe, wee shall have such a coyle else.


Cittie w. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You heare not the news abroade?

Hostis. No: what newes?

City W. No, I warrant ye, you never come abroad; this is to be troubled with a fatte man, he never comes abroad himself nor suffers his wife out of his sight: yee shall ever have a fatte Host either on his bench at the dore or in his chair at the chimney; & there he spits and spaules a roome like twentie Tobacco-takers. Oh! fye on them, beasts!

Hostis. I prethee, what newes?

Citty w. Oh! woman, the most hardfavoured newes, and without all conscience: they say theres a statute made, any woman that buries her husband is not to marrie againe of two monthes after.

Hostis. A tedious time, by Lady; a month were enough.

Cittie w. I, halfe a month; winter nights are long and colde. Ile tell ye, I have buried sixe, and thank my good fortune I ever knewe the next ere the other was in his winding sheete.

Pre. Mistris, my maister is angrie, and the Guests cal for their Hostesse.

Hostis. Goe, I come: Gossip, when shall I see you agen?

Citty w. Nay, when shall I see you abroad? sildome, i'me sure.

Hostis. I must needes away; God buy you, Gossip.

Cittie w. God buy ye; Gods so, I have forgot wherefore I came: a word ere you goe, the party yee wott on commends him unto ye, he that met the other party in the white felt, the yellow scarf, and the round Venetian, when the other party kis't you, and I broake the jest on him, when hee said kisses kindeles Coules and love searches.

Hostis. Oh! I remember him, yes faith, hee's prettie well set; hee ha's the right trick with the tongue in his
[p.17]  kisse, and hee dances reasonably comely, but he fals heavie.

Citty w. He savours of a kinde of Gallant, but not of a Courtyer.

Hostis. Well weele have a night out, god be with ye, Gossip.

Cittie wife. God buy ye.


Enter Lentulus and Tulley.

Lentu. Not yours nor her owne, Terentia.—Yours in modestie, Flavia.
See, Tulley, what an active passive love hath plaide;
I love and am again beloved, but at the shrine
Where I do offer up my Cordiall sacrifice,
I am returnd with peremptorie scorne;
And where I stand but as a gazer, viewing
All alike, I am pursude
With violent passions, a speaking eye
Bindes favours and now discovering lines.
Thy counsell now, deere friend; for at thy direction
Stands my thrall or freedome.

Tul. Oh my Lord, affection is unlimited,
Daring all dangers, having no tipe nor figure,
Beyond all arte.
Then tye not that (Great Lord,) to Tullies awe;
Fancy forswears all reason, love all lawe.

Lent. How well thy power can shun that which
I followe with obedience. Too true yfaith;
Thou mightst as well put out the eie of day,
Or cover sinne from heaven, or to erect
A towre of sand on the uncertain surge,
Or any thing that were more inficient,
Then to remoove one doting thought of mine
From her disdain. Thy aide, deere Tulley,


Be thou an Orratour for Lentulus,
My tongue stands tun[e]d to a harsher method;
Breath in her eares, those Organs of receite,
A quintessence distild of honny words,
And charme with a beguiling lullabye
Her free consent to thine and my request:
Which done, thats done which is my sole delight,
Which done, thats done that I can never quite.

Tull. All which to me are problematique mines,
Obscurde inigmaes, and to my studies
Incognite Language; yet, if my powers
Have power to cloath my tongue in love,
Ile be a Lover and in love so pleade
As if that Tully loved Terentia.

Lent. Thanks, sweete Cicero;
This day we dine with olde Flaminius,
The forward Father of my Aukeward love.
His willing minde doth strive to make the peace
Betwixt our discord thoughts; his free consent
Is given to Lentulus; there, Tulley, take on holde,
And, when a Sunne of thy intent shines fayre,
Onset loves fort with polliticke assaults
And conquer; conquest in obtaining that
Where victors are repulsed. But see! our talke
Hath over-tane our way; see, olde Flaminius
Comes to welcome us.
With him a looke like the bright orient verge
At the uprising of Auroraes shine.

Enter Flaminius, Terentia, and Flavia.

Flam. And, my good Lorde, y'are happily met. Heartily welcome; young Tullie, welcome to; yee come wel to ease my charge, these Ladies find fault with their Guardian, I goe too softly for them: old blood is stiffe, & young Ladies will not beare with age; I resigne, I resigne, to you that followe.

Lent. If they admit us for their Guardian,


Weele dare dangers ere we part from them.

Flam. Why well saide, my Lords, Soldiers will not flye indeede; I have seene the day, I could have crackt a tree of yew, made my bowstring whisper in mine eare in the twang, tost my pike lustilye. Tis since the siedge of Parthia: bith-'mas a great while; I was lustie then at the service was done there, yet I love the discourse. Come my Lord, I chuse your companye, leave Tulley to the Ladies; he can tell them tales of Venus and Adonis and that best pleaseth them. Now I must heere of raps and blowes, and Bils and Guns, and swords and bucklers. I loved it once; come, our Cookes are backeward, discourse will beget stomacks; y'are like to tarrie long for leane Cates.


Lent. Now, gentle Tulley, advocate my suite;
Her fore-amazing person makes me mute.

Cicero. He beare these Ladies company if they
Shall deeme acceptance.


Teren. With interest of thankes to Cicero.

Flav. Faith, I like not this ods of female, an equallitie were better: yet of both twere fitter the woman should undergoe the oddes. I had rather a said three men to one woman, then two women to one man. Heeres Tulley addrest to Terentia, Terentia drawing neere to Tulley; her's smal comfot left for Flavia. Wel, gentles, ile leave ye to the Goddesse. So ho! my Lords, take me with ye.

Teren. Nay stay, good Flavia. Youle not loose the sight of Lentulus.

Fla. Nor you of Tulley; come, if you tel, ile blab.

Cice. But, sweete Lady, Tulley is not heere.

Fla. But Cicero is, his neere friend, thats as good.

Cice. He was, Lady, till hee changed his habit by putting on the office of an unskillful Servingman, intending to garde Terentia to her father's house.

Fla. Then Flavia must gard her self; wel use good words and good action, and stalke well before your Ladie; she's kinde, yfaith, and a little thing will please her.

Ter. Will it please Flavia to partake?

Fla. Oh fye! twere an injurie I could [not] brook myself, therefore ile leave ye; but be breefe, stand not on pointes, cut them all first; & if ye fall to kissing, kisse not too long for feare ye kisse the post.


Teren. Goe to, youle still be a wagge, Flavia.
But what saies Tulley to Terentia?

[Exit Flavia.

Cicero. Lady I must maintain my former argument.
Tullie's not heere but heere is Tullies friend;
For, ere I speake, I must intreate you wil
Transforme poore Tulley into Lentulus.

Teren. I have no power of Metamorphosing;
If Tulley be not heere, you must concede,
I cannot make of Tulley Lentulus.

Cice. Nor can the world make Cicero so worthy.
Yet for an houre['s] discourse a Pesant's shape
May represent the person of a king;
Then in the person of the great Lentulus
I doe salute Sunne-bright Terentia.
Lady, vouchsafe a Saint-like smile on him
(From that angell forme) whose honord minde
Lies prostrate lowly at Terentia's feete;
Who hath put off a Golden victors honour
And left the Parthyan spoyle to Lepido;
Whome many Ladies have bedecked with favours
Of rich esteeme, oh proud he deignd to weare them,
Yet guiftes and givers hee did slight esteeme;
For why? the purpose of his thoughts were bent
To seek the love of faire Terentia.
The cho[i]ce is such as choiser cannot bee
Even with a nimble eye; his vertues through
His smile is like the Meridian Sol
Discern'd a dauncing in the burbling brook;
His frowne out-dares the Austerest face
Of warre or Tyranny to sease upon;
His shape might force the Virgine huntresse


With him for ever live a vestall life;
His minde is virtues over-matcht, yet this
And more shall dye if this and more want force
To win the love of faire Terentia.
Then, gentle Lady, give a gentle do[o]me;
Never was brest the Land-lord to a heart
More loving, faithful, or more loyall then is
The brest of noble—

Teren. Tullie!

Tul. Lentulus!

Ter. And why not Tullie?

Tul. It stands not aptly.

Tere. I wants a sillible.

Tul. It doth.

Tere. Then noble Cicero.

Tul. Thats too deere.

Tere. Gentle is as good: Then say the best of gentle Cicero.

Tul. Good Lady, wrong not your honour so
To seate unworthy Tully with your worth.
Oh looke upon the worth of Lentulus,
Let your faire hand be beame unto the ballance
And with a stedded peyze lift up that beame.
In th'one scale put the worth of Lentulus,
His state, his honors, and his revenewes;
Against that heavy waite put povertie,
The poore and naked name of Cicero,
A partner of unregarded Orators;
Then shall you see with what celeritie
One title of his worth will soone pull up
Poore Tullies dignitie.

Tere. Just to the height of Terentias heart
Where I will keepe and Character that name,
And to that name my heart shall adde that love
That shall wey downe the worth of Lentulus.

Tul. Deare Madam.


Tere. Speake still, if thou wilt, but not for him;
The more thou speak'st the more augments my love,
If that thou can'st adde more to infinite;
The more thou speakest the more decreaseth his,
If thou canst take away ought from nothing;
Thinke, Tulley, if Lentulus can love me,
So much and more Terentia doth love thee.

Tull. Oh Madam, Tulley is poore, and poore is counted base.

Ter. Vertue is ritch and blots a poore disgrace.

Tul. Lentulus is great, his frowne's my woe,
And of a friend he will become my foe.

Ter. As he is friend, we will intreate his love;
As he is great, his threatenings shall not make me love.

Tul. Your fathers graunt makes Lentulus your Lord.

Teren. But if thereto his daughter not accord,
That graunt is cancel'd; fathers may commaund
Life before love, for life to true love's paund.

Tul. How will Flaminius brooke my povertie?

Ter. Well, when Flaminius see's no remedie.
Lord how woman-like are men when they are woe'd!
Tully, weigh me not light, nere did immodest blush
Colour these cheeckes, but ardent.

Tully. Silence, sweet Lady, heere comes Flavia.

Enter Flavia.

Fla. Fie, Fie, how tedius ye are; yonders great looking for Tulley, the old senate has put on his spectacles, and Lentulus and he are turning the leaves of a dog-hay, leaves of a worm-eaten Chronicle, and they want Tullies judgment.

Tul. About what, sweet Lady?

Fla. To know what yeare it was the showers of raine fell in Aprill.

Tul. I can resolve it by rote, Lady, twas that yeare the Cuckoo sung in May: another token Lady; there raigned in Rome a great Tyrant that yeare, and many Maides lost their heads for using flesh on Fish-daies.


Fla. And some were sacrificed as a burnt offering to the Gods of Hospitallitie, were they not?

Tul. Y'are a wag, Flavia, but talk and you must needes have a parting blowe.

Flav. No matter so we stand out and close not.

Tull. Or part faire at the close and too't again.

Flav. Nay, if we should too't againe, Terentia would growe jealous.

Tul. Ladies, I take my leave
And my love.

Ter. Take heede ye sigh not, nor looke red at the table, Tully.

[Exit Tully.

Flav. Your shoe wrings you, Lady.

Ter. Goe to, ye are a wanton, Flavia.

Fla. How now Terentia, in your nine Muses?
Theres none must pleade in your case but an Orator.

Ter. I want one indeede Wench, but thou hast two, and the gentle destinies may send thee three; neere blush, for smoke and the fire of a womans love cannot bee hid. Oh a fine tongue dipt in Helicon! a comedian tongue is the onely perswasive ornament to win a Lady; why his discourse is as pleasant—

Fla. As how, I prethee?

Ter. And keepes as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the skirt; a rough Sceane of civill Warres and a clapping conclusion; perhappes a Jigge; if not, the Tragicomicall tale of Mars and Venus; then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending Mars, & she Venus, must fall from billing to byting, from byting to blowes, to get the supremacie.

Fla. A good policie to praise Cicero,
For feare I rob you of your Lentulus.

Ter. Faith, a Souldier is not for thy humor; now I crie a Warrier; he fights stoutly in a field-bed, discharges his work sure, under his Curtaines would I fight. But come, our Lovers melt while we meditate; thou for thy Scholler,


 I for my soldier; and if we can not please them so, weele shake off this loose habit and turn Pages to suit their humors.


Enter Accutus and Graccus.

Grac. Come, Accutus, discharge your follower; lets leave rubbing a while, since the byas runs so much the wrong way. Sirra! these bowles which we roule and turn in our lower sypher are by use made wodden worldlings right, for every one strives who shall lye neerest the mistris.

Ac. They post indeed, as their nature is, in an even way, but they are cowards, theile abide no danger, they rub at everie mole-hil; if they tyre in going up a hill, they retire and come back againe.

Grac. Well let them alley, bet all, then to rest away, begone.

Acut. S'foote Graccus, heeres a couple of our old gamsters. Oh! for quick conceite to beget a jest! heeres two, that either a man must be aquainted or quarrell with, & of two evils ile chose the latter; I hope I make it the lesser. If I should be acquainted, the foole will haunt me, if I quarrell I may be so blest, as to be rid of a foole.

Grac. I have a womans wit for a suddaine stratageme.

Enter Scil. and Servulis.

Scil. No, by my troth, by this bright horrison—

Accut. An excellent Cuckoo, hee keepes his note in Winter.

Scil. I have no appetite at all to live in the countrie any more; now, as they say, I have got a smacke on the Cittie. Slid, I thinke (as the proverbe goes) I was wrapt in my mother's smocke the day I was begotten, I thank the Goddesse Cupid for it. I am so favourd of the Women, my hostes loves me execrably.

Accut. Good reason, fooles make good sport.

Grac. Sever, sever, ere wee bee discovered.

Ser. Sir, the respective regard of your well governed partes do challenge a mellifluous species of enduement [p.25] or contumelious estimation.

Grac. Gentles, God save ye, well over-taken Gallants.

Scil. Welcome, by the welkin.

Grac. This is verie pleasant weather.

Ser. Sir the ayre is frugall.

Grac. Is that Gentleman of your Company?

Scil. Our company sir, no, we are no companions for lame Souldiers.

Grac. Propper man, pittie he is so regardles. A good legge, it seemes he has some greefe in it.

Scil. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a propper man, and that you have a good legge.

Accut. And what of that, Sir?

Scil. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile bestowe my charitie as franke as—

Acut. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that.


Gra. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence.

Serv. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded.

Grac. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him.

Scil. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as the learned puerelis writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin.


Grac. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I pray ye sir?

Scil. My name is signior Scillicet.

Grac. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument.

Enter Accutus.

Acut. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, somewhat hurt in one of his Legges?

Scil. He went by even now, sir; is he a friend of yours?

Acu. A deare friend, and a propper Gentleman, sir.

Scil. By the horison hee's a propper man indeede, he gave me the time of day as he went by, I have a gallon of wine for him at any time. If ye see anything in me worth Commendations, I pray ye commend me to him.

Acut. I will sir;—twere best you gave me good words, but ile trie ye farther yet;—fare ye well, sir.

Scil. I pray you remember me to him.—You see my anger is over already.

 [Exit Acutus.

Grac. Would ye not strike him? lets followe.

Scil. Indeede ye shall not, I hate it.

Ser. I will not be barren of my armorie, in my future perambulation for the lower element.

Grac. You are too patient in wrongs, sir.—Zoundes I know not how to picke a quarrell.

Serv. Sir, the grievous youth is inwardlye possest of a supple spirit, he can brooke impugnying, but tis adverse to my spirit if I were armed.

Enter Accutus.

Accut. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way of late?


Scil. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours?

Acut. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so.

Scil. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue to shew heere.

Serv. Say, I breath defyance to his front.

Acut. Challenge him the field.

Scil. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile—

Accut. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie Hercules, and out-brave Mars and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye swell.

Scil. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have said so to your face.


Accut. Away, with your Champion, goe.

Grac. This was excellentlye performed, ifaith a better breathing then a game at bowles.

Accut. Theile give you the good salve at any time this month, for I am sure they have salving enough for so long.

Grac. I pittie the foole yfaith, but the tother Horseleach I wish his blowes trebled. I converst with him, but a Rogue so stuft with the lybrary of new minted words, so tearing the sence, I never met with.

Accut. But now we have spoilde our determinate dinner at my hostesse of the Hobbye; we shall nowe bee knowne.

Grac. That holds well still, I am taken for a prooved friend, and thou shalt be disguised, till, I have wrought a league by vertue of a pottle of Canarie.

Acut. Content, mine Host shall be accessarie and ile be a serviter to observe myracles.


Grac. They are good subjects for idle houres:—but soft, what second course is entring heere?

Enter Phy., Bos, and Boy.

Phy. For I did but kisse her; Bos, how lik'st thou my relish?

Bos. Oh sir, relish but your licour, as you doe your song, you may goe drunke to bed any day in the weeke.

Phy. Sister, awake, close not, &c. Does my face hold colour still?

Bos. I, and you would but scaviage the pavilion of your nose.

Gra. I, marrie, Accutus, how lik'st thou this Gentlewoman Gallant?

Accut. A good states-man, for common-wealth of Brownists; the Rogue hates a Church like the Counter.

Gra. I, and if my Ladie Argentile were dead, he wold rather live upon almes then fall to worke.

Accut. So he might have tolleration.—What, shal's close with them?

Gra. In any case, but in some mild imbrace, for if we should continue thus rough, we should be shunned like an Appoplex.

Accut. Gallants, the fortune of the day runs with ye: what all at mumchance? how is't? how is't?

Phy. Sir, I think twas you bestowed some abuse of me tother day.

Accu. Which I would wipe out of your memorie
With satisfaction of a double courtesie.

Phy. I accept it ifaith, sir, I am not prone to anger, I assure ye the following night knew not my anger. Your acquaintance, Signior.

Gra. Fye, without ceremony lets yoake this triplicity as we did in the daies of olde, with mirth and melody.

Phy. I, say you? so then Coll her and clip her and kisse [p.29]  her, too, &c.

Bos. The triplicitie! heere's those has supt at an ordinarie.

Accu. This gallant humors.

Gra. But the other walkes aloofe.

Bos. The triplicite! heere's those has crackt glasses and drawn blood of a Tapster.

Gra. The visitation of your hand, sir.

Bos. The Triplicitie! will colours change?

Acut. Sir, take no offence, I beseech ye, we gave onlye satisfaction for an olde injurie, but in the degree of amitie your selfe sits in the superlative.

Bos. No sir, but in respect.

Gra. What kinde is your Dogge of, sir?

Bos. Verie kinde to anything but his meat, that hee devours with great alacritie.

Grac. Where was he bred?

Bos. In a Bitch.

Gra. What Countrie?

Bos. A kind of Mungrill, he will carrie but not fetch, marrie hee is to be put to a dauncing schoole for instruction.

Acut. The tricke of the rope were excellent in him, & that ile teach him, if I misse not my mark. Come, Gallants, we waste time, the first Taverne we arrive at weel see the race of an houre-glasse.

Phy. Can ye a part in a Song?

Gra. Verie tollerably.

Phy. Weele have a catch then, if with sol, sol, la: Gentlemen have you any good herbe? you have match, boy.

Boy. Your pipe shall want no fire sir.

Acut. Oh, without ceremony: now, Graccus, if we can but pawne their senses in Sack and Sugar, let mee alone to pursue the sequell.

Gra. Follow it away.



Enter Hostis, Cittizens wife, Servulus, and Scillicet.

Hostis. Come, come, bring them out of the ayre: alas good hearts, what rogorous villaine would commit with him? ile tell ye Gosip, hee's eene as kinde an animall, he would not wrong them y'faith.

Citty wife. Tush, feare nothing woman, I hope to make him so again. Alacke, alacke, how fell you out all a head? Oh Butcher! are ye hurt in another place?

Hostis. Did he not throw you against the stones? If he did, doe not conceale, I dare say you gave them not a foule word.

Scil. By the illuminate welkin not a word till my mouth was full of blood, and so made my words foule.

Citty wife. Is not this Gentleman hurt too?

Serv. Onelye the extravagant Artire of my arme is brused.

Cittie wi. See, see, the extravagant of his arme is brused to. Alas, how could ye quarrell so?

Serv. I will demonstrate: in the defence of the generous youth I did appugne my adverse, let violently flie.

Cittie wife. Ah good hearts! would I had stood between you, when he let flie so violently.

Ser. We voide of hostile armes.

Hostis. I, if they had had horses, they had sav'd their armes.

Serv. Be capable, I meane, void of armorie.

Citty-wife. Untill ye had armor on.

Serv. Had I bene accompanied, with my Toledo or morglay——

Cittie wife. I, your Dogge or Bitch.

Serv. Continue, I beseech, I meane my sword, sole lye my sword.

Cittie wife. Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none at all.


Serv. In the concourse.

Cittie w. Nay, the concourse will light on him for it, I warrant.

Serv. I, for the tuition of my Capitall, did mount my Semisphere, three degrees, that as a strong, & stony guard did defend my Capitall.

Citty w. Twas well ye kept him out, for if he had entered on your stony Guard, he would have spoilede your Capitall.

Serv. In fine, being mortally assaild, he did preambulate or walk off.

Scil. Yes, faith, he did preambulate, and walke mee finely.

Cittie w. Good heartes, how many were there of them?

Serv. About the number of seaven.

Scil. I, there was seaven.

Serv. Or eight.

Scil. Or eight.

Serv. Rather more.

Citty w. I, more at least, I warrant ye.

Hostis. Alasse ye cannot chuse but be more hurt, but ile search you throughly, be assured.

Citty w. And if she cannot helpe ye fewe can; shee knowes what belongs to a Tent, or a bruse, and experience is good in those cases.

Serv. I have a concupiscent forme of trust in your skil, it will malladise.

Citty w. I, feare not, put both your concupisences in me for that matter.

Serv. The generous will disburse coynage for satisfaction of your metaphisicall endevour.

Scil. Yes, yes, I will discharge all.

Cittie wife. Wee make no doubt of that; come into a chamber, ye shall lye downe awhile; perhaps youle bee stiffe anon, then you shall use your legges, the more you strive with it the better. Alas, good hearts!



Phy. Sol, sol, la! Tapster, give attendance! Gentlemen, I hope all we are friends, the welkin is skie colour still, and men must grow by degrees; you must pardon me, I must sp—speak my minde.

Grac. The uttermost of your minde at this time cannot be offensive.

Phy. The fryer was in the—sol, sol, draw the tother quart. I hope you are not angrie gallants; and ye come to my lodging, ye shall be welcome; my Hostes shall bid you welcome, shee's a good wench; if I say the word, she wil fa—fullfill it.

Acut. Sirra drawer, for the other thats a sleepe; let him so remaine; for the Dog, let him be bound to a post for his appearance, till I take order for his undooing.

Draw. The foole and the Dogge shall both take rest at your commaund, Sir.

Phy. Gentlemen, I hope we are all friends: sol, sol, shal's have a catch?

Grac. I, come, come, everie one catch a part.


Phy. Hey good boies ifaith, now a three man's song, or the olde downe a downe; well things must be as they may, fils the other quart; muskadine, with an egg is fine, there's a time for all things. Bonos nocthus.


Grac. Good night to you sirs.

Accut. So now, Graccus, see what a polluted lumpe,
A deformed Chaos of unsteddy earth
Man is, being in this ill kinde unmand seeming somthing
Bestial man, brutish animall. Well tis thus decreede,
He shall be what he seemes, that's deade.
For what in him shows life but a breathing ayre?
Which by a free constraint it self ingenders
In things without life, as twixt a pair of bellowes
We feele a forcible aire, having of it self
Force and being, no more is this breathing block
But for his use in kinde.—Give out in some bursse or congregation
Among the multitude Philautus death.
Let all the customarie rights of funerall,


His knell or what else, be solemnly observed.
Ile take order for his winding sheete,
And further, to furnish it with further suertie,
Ile have a potion that for twentie houres
Shall quench the motion of his breath. Goe, spread,
Let me alone to effect it.

Gra. Ile sow it, I warrant thee; thou talkst of bursse,—I have a way worth ten on't, ile first give it out in my Barbers shop, then at my ordinarie, and that's as good as abroad; and as I cross Tiber my waterman shall attach it, heele send it away with the tide, then let it come out to an Oyster wenches eare, and sheele crie it up and down the streetes.

Acut. Let's first secure him from eyes, and at night he shall be portered to our chamber; so, now away.

Grac. Oh a couple that would spred rarely, lets give it for loves sake.

Enter Hostis and Cittizens wife.

Acut. Call, call.

Grac. Hem, hem.

Citty wife. A pox on your hemmings, do you think we care for your hemmings?

Hostis. Tis some stinking troublesome knave, I warrant ye.

Citty wife. Hang him, regard him not; theres hemming indeede, like a Cat, God blesse us, with a burre in her throate.


Grac. S'hart, how we are ript up for this?

Ac. Oh man, this hemming is the most hatefulst thing, theres not the most publique punck, nor worm-eaten bawd that can abide it, and honestie would run madde to heare it. But come we waste time, tis now about the mid of day; we must sowe arithmatike by the houres, that at the morrowes highth Philautus awake again, at which time he shall be on his Hearse, and all the Guestes of the Hobbye invited [p.34]  to accompany his ghost, when being awake, himselfe and all shall see if drunkenesse be not mad misterie.

Grac. But I prethee, practise some milder behaviour at the ordinarie, be not al madman.

Acut. Push, ile bee all observative, and yet ifaith I grieve to see this double garded age, all side-coate, all foole. Fye thou keepest the sports from the marke; away, and returne. What newes is now in progresse.

Grac. I have the newest. Terentia, Daughter to the olde Senate, thogh Lentulus left the field to come to her, yet she hath forsaken him in the open field, and shee's for our young Oratour, Tully; she has vowd by Venus legge and the little God of Love, he shall be her captaine; sheele serve under him, till death us depart, and thereto, I plight thee my troth.

Acut. More Ladies Terentias, I crie still,
That prise a saint before a Silken foole.
She that loves true learning and pomp disdaines
Treads on Tartarus and Olimpus gaines.

Grac. I, marrie, but then would learning be in colours, proud, proud; then would not foure nobles purchase a benefice, two Sermons in a yeare.

Accut. I, Graccus now thou hitst the finger right
Upon the shoulder of Ingratitude.
Thou hast clapt an action of flat felony;
Now, ill betide that partiall judgement
That doomes a farmers rich adultus
To the supremacie of a Deanrie,
When needie, yet true grounded Discipline,
Is govern'd with a threed bare Vycarage.

Grac. I, thou speakst well of their sides that are liberally overseene in the sciences. I take no hold on't, but were all men of thy minde, then would everie Schoole-maister bee a Senate, and there would never come Cobler to be Constable againe.

Accut. Ynough, ynough, Graccus, let silence seale up our secret thoughts and libertie say,


Virtus sola summa gloria,
Quae format homines vero honore.

Enter Flaminius and Tully.

Flam. Goe to, I say, urge no more, tis Taverne talke, for Taverners Table talke for all the vomit of rumor. What newes, saies one? none so new as this: Tully shall be married to Terentia. What newes says another? the same, the same. Whose consent have ye? not mine, I deny it. I must know of it, ile have a hand; goe to, no more.

Tul. Gentle Sir,
Lay not a leaden loade of foule reproach
Upon so weake a prop; what's done is past recal.
If ought is done, unfitting to be done,
The worst is done, my life must answer it.

Flam. I, you shall answer it in the Senate house, the Emperor shall knowe it. If she be my childe, I will rule her, ile bridle her, ile curbe her, ile raine her; if she will not, let her goe, starve, begge, hang, drawe, sinke, swimme, she gets not a doit, a deneire, ile not owne her.

Tul. Reverend Sir, be more patient.

Flam. I am impatient, I am troubled, I am vext, I am scoft, I am pointed at, ile not endure it, ile not abide it, ile be revenged, I wil, of her, of you both, proud boy, wanton giglot, aspyring, hautie. Knowe your equals, shee's not for ye, if ye persist, by my holy maker, you shall answer it, looke to it, you shall, you shall indeede.

[Exit Flaminus.

Tull. I shall, I must, I will, I will indeede,
Even to the greatest I will answere it;
If great mens eares be ope to inocency,
If greatnesse be not partial with greatenesse,
Even to the greatest I will answere it.
Perhaps, some shallow censurer will say,
The Orator was proud, he would climbe too hie;
But heaven and truth will say the contrarie.


My greatest grief is, I have my friend betraide;
The treasons done, I, and the Traitor's free,
Yet innocent Treason needes not to flee.
His loyaltie bids me abide his frowne,
And he hath power to raise or hurle me downe.

Enter Terentia.

Tere. What ailes my Tully? wherefore look'st thou sad?
What discontent hath stopped the crimson current
Which ran so cheerefully within that brow,
And makes it sullen like a standing poole?
Tell me who ist hath wrong[d] my Cicero?
[Say, is it Lentulus?]

Tul. Oh wrong him not.

Tere. Who is it then, that wrongs my Tully so?
What, hath Terentia ought offended thee?
Doost thou recall my former promises?
Dost thou repent thee of—

Tul. Oh wrong me not.

Tere. What, hath my father done this injurie?
There, there, my thoughts accord to say tis so.
I will deny him then, hee's not my father;
Hee's not my friend will envie Cicero.

Tul. Wrong not thy self.

Teren. What heavie string doost thou devide upon?
Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy selfe.
Where didst thou learne that dolefull mandrake's note
To kill the hearers? Tully, canst thou not
Indure a little danger for my love,
The fierie spleene of an angrie Father,
Who like a storme will soon consume it self?
I have indurde a thousand jarring houres
Since first he did mistrust my fancies aime,
And will indure a thousand thousand more
If life or discord either live so long.

Tul. The like will I for sweete Terentia.
Feare not, I have approoved armour on,
Will bide the brunt of popular reproach
Or whatsoever.


Tere. Enough, Tully, we are discovered.

Enter Flavia.

Fla. Yfaith, are ye at it? what, is there never a loving teare shed on either side? nor you? nor you? Tullies [eyes] are red, come, come, ye fooles, be more breefe. I would have buried three husbands, before youle be married.

Tul. Why lives Flavia a Virgin still?

Fla. Because, I haue vow'd virginitie til I can get a husband.

Teren. Why, Flavia, you haue many suitors.

Flav. Oh, I am loaden with suitors; for indeede I am faine to beare with any of them, I have a dumbe-shewe of all their pictures, each has sent in his severall shadow, and I swear I had rather have them then the substance of any of them.

Tul. Can you not describe them in action?

Flav. Yes, and their action; I have one honest man of the age of fortie five, or there about, that traverses his ground three mile everie morning to speake to mee, and when hee is come, after the saluting ceremony, of 'how do you, Lady,' he falles to calculating the nativitie of the Moone, prognosticating what faire weather will follow, if it either snow or raine; sometime with a gentle pinche by the fingar intermixed with the volley of sighes, hee falles to discoursing of the prise of pease, and that is as pleasing to me as a stinking breath.

Tul. A good description.

Fla. Another brings Letters of commendation from the Constable of the Parish, or the Church-warden, of his good behaviour and bringing up, how he could write and reade written hand; further desiring that his Father would request my Father that his Fathers Sonne might marrie my Fathers Daughter and heele make her a joynter of a hundred pound a yeare, and beget three or foure fooles to boote.

Teren. Better and better.

Tul. Usus promptus facit;


Faemina ludificantur viros; well, forward.

Flav. I have another that I prise derer then the rest, a most sweete youth, and if the wind stand with him I can smell him half a mile ere hee come at me, indeede hee weares a Musk-cat—what call ye it?—about him.

Tul. What doe you call it?

Flav. What ye will, but he smels better then burnt Rosemarie, as well as a perfuming pan, and everie night after his first sleepe writes lovesicke sonnets, railing against left handed fortune his foe, that suffers his sweet heart to frowne on him so.

Tul. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour.

Flav. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten; give me nature, not arte.

Tere. Here comes Lord Lentulus.

Tul. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage, ealth to your honour.

Enter Lentulus.

Len. And happines to you.

Tul. In heaven, deere Lord, but—

Lent. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis graunted sure, what ere it be.

Tul. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend.

Teren. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend,
Then let me die to satisfie your will.

Lent. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray;
You both confesse you have offended me?

Both. We doe, we have.

Lent. Then for this offence, be this your doome:
Tulley must die, but not till fates decree
To cut your vital threed, or Terentia
Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man.

Flav. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but Terentia will never finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick.

Len. The like is doomde to faire Terentia. How say you both, are yee content?


Teren. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration.

Tul. But can your honour burie such a wrong?

Len. I can, I can; heere, Tulley, take Terentia,
Live many happie yeares in faithfull love.
This is no more then friendships lawes allow;
Thinke me thy self, another Cicero.

Flav. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another Cicero, so you might claim some interest in her now and then.

Lent. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie;
Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you.

Flav. Y'oule not bite, my Lord?

Len. No, of my faith, my Lady.

Tere. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe;
One storme more past, my griefes were much the less.

Tul. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal
Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend.

Lent. Why, then theres a bargaine.

Flav. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund.
Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart,
With all my strength, with all my power and virtue:
Seald and delivered in the presence of us—

Lent. Marcus Tullius Cicero.
Then you deliver this as your act and deede?

Flav. I doe, and scale it with this—

Lent. Why, well said, tis done; see, we begin but now,
And are as ready to goe to Church as you.
What needes further ceremony?

Flav. Yes, a little matrimony.

Lent. I, Lady. Come Tully and Terentia;
One day shall shine on both our Nuptials;
Feare not, ile quench the fire of your Fathers heate
With my consent.

Flav. I prethee, appoint the time.

Lent. About a week hence, love.


Flav. Oh, tis too intolerable long.

Lent. Then foure daies.

Flav. Foure daies is foure times foure & twenty hours.
That's too long too.

Lent. We cannot sooner be readie.

Flav. Yes, and unreadie too in a day and a halfe.

Lent. Well then two daies.

Flav. Til then weele feede on conceite; Tully, thanke me, but for your companie I would not tarry so long; come, Tully, since we shall bee married all at one time, weele goe to bed so, and he shall be maister of the Cock-pit that bids his Gossips first.


Enter Accutus and Graccus.

Acut. Nay quicke, Graccus, least our houre forestall us, ile in and deale for your disguise; tarry thou & give mine host a share of our intent; marry, charge him to keep it as secret as his Garbage. He undoes our drift [else] and cloathes the foole in sackcloath during his life.

Gra. Ile warrant thee ile manage it with as good judgement as a Constable his charge.

Acut. And I mine as a watchman his office.

Gra. Better, I hope; well about it.

[Exit Acutus.

Enter Host. Prentices pass over the stage.

Host. There, there my little lackey boyes, give the word as ye passe, look about to my guests there; score up at the Bar there; again, agen, my fine Mercuries; if youle live in the facultie, be rulde by instructions, you must be eyed like a Serjeant, an eare like a Belfounder, your conscience a Schoolemaister, a knee like a Courtier, a foote like a Lackey, and a tongue like a Lawyere. Away, away, my brave bullies! welcome, sweete Signior, I cannot bow to thy knee, I'me as stout & as stiff as a new made knight, but if I say the word, mine Host bids the Cobler—

Gra. May I crave a word of you, mine Host?

Host. Thou shalt whisper in mine eare, I will see and say little; what I say duns the mouse and welcom, my bullies.


Enter Scillicet and Getica.

Scil. By the torrid zone (sweet heart) I have thought well of you ever since I loved ye, as a man wold say, like a young dancer, out of all measure; if it please you yfaith anything I have promised you ile performe it to a haire, ere to morrow night.

Get. I wounder I can heare no newes of my man and my puppie.

Scil. Doe you thinke, sweet heart, to be maried by day light or by torch-light?

Get. By night is more Lady-like. Ile have a cryer to cry my puppie sure.

Scil. What thinke ye if we had an offering?

Get. That were most base yfaith.

Scil. Base, slid, I cannot tel if it were as base as a sagbut, ile be sworne tis as common as a whore, tis even as common to see a Bason at a Church doore, as a Box at a Playhouse.

Get. It greeves me not so much for my man as for my puppie; my man can shift for himself, but my poore puppie! truely I thinke I must take Phisicke even for feare, sweetheart.

Host. Tut, tut, ile warrant thee ile be as close as a bawd, ile keepe mine owne counsell, be merrie and close; merrie hart lives long, let my guests take no wrong, & welcome, my bullie.


Grac. There's none ment, beleeve it, sir.

Scil. Signor, by the welkin, well met, what all three so luckely?

Enter Servulus.

Ser. Gallants, saving the Ceremonie,
Stroke your haire up and admire, forsweare sacke.


Scil. Foresweare Sacke! slid, not for the spending of two farmes more, if they were come into my hands once.

Ser. I say be astonisht and forsweare sacke, for by the combustion influence of sacke five men lye breathlesse ready to be folded in the terrestiall element.

Grac. Five slaine with Sacke! ist possible?

Ser. These eyes are testators.

Scil. Nay, then tis so.

Getica. Sir, you have not heard of a puppie in your travels?

Grac. No indeede, Gentlewoman.

Ser. Five, beleeve me, Sir.

Acu. Five of one, oh devil!
What limme of him but a complete Villaine!
A tongue prophaner then Idolatrie,
His eye a beacon fixed in his place
Discovering illes, but hood-winked unto grace;
His heart a nest of vice kept by the Devill,
His good is none at all, his all is evill.

Enter Hostess.

Hostis. Oh, the father! Gallants, yonders the most hard favourd newes walkes the streetes, seaven men going to their graves, that dyed with drinking and bisseling.

Acut. Good, still, nay then I see the devill has some power over a woman more then a man. Seaven! t'will be more anon.

Get. Now I beseech Bacchus my puppie has not overseene himself.

Scil. This is verie strange.

Hostis. And as true a report, I assure you.

Enter City-Wife

Cittie wife. Out alas, where's my Gosip? Oh woman! have you not heard the newes?

Hostis. Yes, I have heard on't.

Cittie wife. Oh, woman, did your child's child ever see the like? nine men to bee buried too day, that drunk healthes last night.

Acut. Better and better, goodnes never mends so fast


in the carrying: nine!

Cittie wife. They say one is your guest, Philautus.

Acut. And all, I dare sweare, whome ile revive againe.

Cittie wife. Well he was a propper man, yfaith.

Hostis. I, and had good skill in prick-song, yet he had a fault in his humor, as none are without (but Puritans,); he would swear like an Elephant, and stamp and stare, (God blesse us,) like a play-house book-keeper when the actors misse their entrance.

Scil. Nay, harke ye, sir, I can brooke much injurie but not that; meddle with me but not with my trade; shee is mine owne, shee's meus, tuus, suus, no man's else, I assure ye, we are sure together.

Grac. Sure ye are together, sir, but is your wife your trade? You meane to live upon your wife then.

Acut. The foole has some wit, though his money bee gone.

Grac. Sir, I hope ye are not offended, I assure ye I would be loath to offend the least haire of your caput, sissiput, or occiput.

Scil. Occiput? what meane you by occiput?

Grac. The former part of your head.

Scil. The former part of your head! why I hope I have not an occiput, in the former part of my head. Signior Servulus, what meanes he by it?

Serv. The signification of the word only amounts to this, the former part of your head.

Accut. The foole is jealious, prethee feede it.

Scil. S'lid, I cannot be so sussified; I pray you, Segnior, what meanes he by occiput?

Grac. No hurt, verily, onely the word signifies, and the reason is, saith Varro, being a great deriver from originals, it is called occiput for that the former part of the head looks likest the Oxe.

Scil. Likest the Oxe, by gad, if ere I come to talke with that Varro, ile make him show a better reason for it.


Grac. But, howsoever, it proceeded from me all in kindenes.

Scil. Sir, I accept it so, for I tell ye I am of a mollifying nature. I can strut and againe in kindnesse I can suffer a man to breake my head, and put it up without anger.

Accut. I claime that priviledge, sir, I thinke I offended you once that way.

Scil. I love ye then for it sir, yet I cannot remember that ever a Tapster broke my head, yet I call to minde I have broke many Tapsters heads.

Accut. Not as a Tapster, for I but borrow this habyt.

Scil. The fruit is knowne by the tree, by gad, I knewe by your aporn ye were a gentlemen, but speciallye by your flat cap.

Serv. I call to memorie, let us unite with kinde imbrace.

Cittie wife. Now well fare your harts; by my truth, tis joy to a woman to see men kinde; faith you courtiers are mad fellowes, you care not in your humors to stab man or woman that standes in your way, but in the end your kindenes appeares.

Hostis. You can resolve us, sir; we heare of great revels to be at Court shortly.

Grac. The marriage of Lentulus and the Orator: verie true.

Hostis. Might not a company of Wives be beholding to thee for places, that would be there without their husbands knowledge, if neede were?

Grac. A moitie of friendship that, ile place ye where ye shall sit and see all.

Cittie wife. Sit? nay, if there were but good standinges, we care not.

Acu. S'foot, Graccus, we tarrie too long, I feare; the houre wil overtake us, tarrie thou and invite the Guests, and Ile goe see his course mounted.

Grac. About it.

[Exit Acutus.


Hostis. Whether goes that gentleman?

Grac. About a needeful trouble; this gentleman
Hath, at the charges of his charitie,
Preparde to inter a friend of his,
Though lately entertaind a friend of yours,
Acquaintance to you all, Philautus; and would desire
You would with him accompany his ghost
To funerall, which will be presently on his journey.

Cittie wife. Of his charge? dyed he not able to purchase a Winding sheete?

Grac. Twere sinne to wrong the dead; you shall heare the inventorie of his pocket.

Imprimis, brush and a Combe —0—0—v.d.
Item, a looking Glasse —0—0—i.d.0b.
Item, A case of Tobacco Pipes —0—0—iiij.d.
Item, Tobacco, halfe an ounz —0—0—vj.d.
Item, in money and golde —0—0—iij.d.

Summa totalis xix d. halfe penny.

Hostis. What was his suite worth?

Grac. His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall.

Re-enter Acutus.

Acut. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards.

Grac. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of double cannons.

Enter Host, Cornutus.

Host. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; Cornutus is my neighbour, I love him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a remedie.

Cornu. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife; shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your wife.


Host. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie, let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion, twil make her short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her up with Gun-powder.

Cittie wife. I, I, mine Host, you are well imployed to give a man counsell against his wife; they are apt enough to ill I warrant ye.

Cornu. Mum, mum, my sweet wife, I know the world wel enough; I have an eare but I heare not, an eye but I see not, what's spoke against thee I regard not; mum, mum, I knowe the world well enough.

Cittie wife. I, and twere more seemely you were at your owne house too; your wife cannot goe abroad, but you must follow; husbands must bee fringed to their wives Petticoates. I pray you tarrie you, ile goe home.

Cor. Not so, my sweet wife, I am gone, I am vanisht; mum, mum, no anger shall stirre thee; no words, I know the world well inough.

Hostis. Twere better, by thrice deuce-ace, in a weeke every woman could awe her husband so well as she.

Gracc. Ist possible? s'foot, well I thought it had bene but a fable al this while that Iole shold make great Hercules spit on his thombes and spin, but now I see if a man were as great as Caesar, Julius or Augustus, or both in one, a woman may take him downe.

Hostis. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it.

Grac. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe.


Enter Fryer and Course.

Fryer. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile,
The strongest man at length must faile;
Man is flesh and flesh is grasse;
Consuming time, as in a glasse,
Now is up and now is downe
And is not purchast by a Crowne;
Now seede, and now we are sowen,
Now we wither, now are mowen;
Frater noster heere doth lye,
In paupertate he did die,
And now is gone his viam longam
That leades unto his requiem aeternam;
But dying needie, poore and bare,
Wanting to discharge the Fryer,
Unto his grave hee's like to passe
Having neither Dirge nor Masse:
So set forward, let him goe,
Et benedicamus Domino.

Phy. And then to Apollo hollo, trees, hollo.—Tapster a few more cloathes to my feete.

Omnes. Oh heavens!

Acut. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God, what art thou?

Phy. My Hearse and winding-sheete! what meanes this? why, Gentles, I am a living man.

Acut. Spirit, thou ly'st; thou deludest us.

Citty wife. Conjure him, Fryer.

Fryer. In nomine Domini I thee charge,
Responde mihi, heere at large,
Cujum pecus, whence thou art,
Et quamobrem thou makest us start
In spiritus of the gloomy night?
Qui Venis huc us to affright,
Per trinitatem I there charge thee,
Quid tu vis hic to tell to me.


Phy. Why, Gentles, I am a living man, Philautus. What instance shall I give ye? heare me I have sight, understanding, I know mine hostes, I see that Gentlewoman, I can feele.

Scil. Feele this Gentlewoman! s'lid if yee were ten Ghosts, ile not indure it.

Acut. Spirit, thou deludest us.

Phy. Why what should I say? will ye heare my voice, heeres not but—

Scil. Nay, that's a lye, then tis a living spirit, ile have a bout with him.

Accut. Oh sir, meddle not with shadowes. Spirit, thou lyest;
I saw thee dead, so did many moe.
We know ye wandring dwellers in the dark
Have power to shape you like mortallitie
To beguile the simple & deceve their soules.
Thou art a Devill.

Phy. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele it.

Cittie wife. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde in my heart to feele his flesh.

Grac. Trie with your Rapier, Accutus; if he bleede he lives.

Phy. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood.

Accu. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then?

Grac. Take heede, Accutus, heele blast thee.

Phy. What instance shall I give ye? I am Phylautus, he that must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet Gentlemen, conceive me aright.

Accut. Why true, true, that we know and those swilling bowels.
Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade,
Else needles were these rites of funeralls.
And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne


Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse
Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times,
The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome.
To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard;
In all which time my care imploide it self
To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live,
Who so glad as I?

Phy. Sir, your love has showne it selfe aboundant, but the cold aire is a meanes to devorce me from your companies: mine host, let me crave passage to my chamber.

Host. Out of my dores, knave; thou enterest not my dores, I have no chalke in my house, my posts shall not be garded with a little sing song, Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras.

Accut. Ha! how now man? see'st now any errors?
Nay, this is nothing; he hath but showne
A patterne of himself, what thou shalt finde
In others; search through the Globe of earth,
If there mongst twentie two thou doost find
Honester then himself ile be buried straight.
Now thinke what shame tis to be vilde,
And how vilde to be drunk: look round! where?
Nay looke up, beholde yon Christall pallace.
There sits an ubiquitarie Judge
From whom arcana nulla abscondita,
That see's all and at pleasure punisheth;
Thou canst not scape scot free, how cans't thou?
Why, sencelesse man in that sinne will betray
His father, brother, nay, himselfe; feares not
To commit the worst of evils, secure if
Thunder-boults should drop from heaven, dreading
Nor heaven, nor hell; indeede his best state
Is worse then least, prised at highest rate.

Ser. This critique is hoarsh, unsaverie, and reproofeful; avoyd him.

Scil. Hee speakes well, but I like not his dispraysing


of drunkennes; tis Phisicke to me and it makes me to sleep like a horse with my nose in the manger. Come, sweet heart.

Hostis. Signior, Philautus, I pray ye a word.


Acut. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose another crosse point, where are we then? note, note.

Hostis. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in any case take heede my husband see you not.

Phy. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time give better abilitie.


Acut. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part so, Graccus; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill it fuller.

Gra. But prethee, let me partake.

Acut. Not till I returne, pardon me.


Hostis. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit.

Citty wife. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs.

Hostis. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket.

Cittie wife. Why I hope your husband is able to maintain you better, are there not nights as well as daies? does he not sleepe sometimes? has he no pockets about him, cannot you search his breeches? anything you find in his breeches is your owne.

Hostis. But may a woman doe that with safety?

Cittie wife. I, and more, why should she not? why what is his is yours, what's yours your owne.

Hostis. The best hope I have is; you knowe my Guest Mistris Gettica, she has pawnd her Jewels to me already, and this night I look for her Hood and her tyer, or if the worst chance, I know I can intreate her to weare my cloathes, [p.51] and let me goe in her attire to Court.

Cittie wife. Or if all faile, you may hire a good suit at a Jewes, or at a broakers; tis a common thing and speacially among the common sort.

Enter Host and Constable.

Host. To search through my house! I have no Varlets, no knaves, no stewd prunes, no she fierie phagies; my Chambers are swept, my sinkes are all scowred, the honest shall come in, the knaves shall goe by; yet will I, maister Constable, goe search through my house, I care not a sheepes skin.

Const. We are compeld to doe it, mine host; a Gentleman is robd last night, & we are to search every privy corner.

Host. Mine host is true Mettall, a man of reputation, a true Holefernes, he loves juice of grapes, and welcom, maister Constable.


Acut. Graccus, how likst thou this?

Grac. Excellent, for now must he needes fall into Constables hands, and if he have any grace, twil appear in his face, when he shall be carried through the streete in a white sheet; twill be a good penance for his fault.

Hostis. Now fortune favour that my husband find him not.

Cittie wife. Heele be horne mad & never able to indure it: why, woman, if he had but as much man in him as a Maribone, heele take the burthen uppon his own necke and never discover you.

Hostis. Alas, heere they come, lets away, Gossip.


Phy. Fortune, my foe, why doost, &c.

Acut. Oh fye, thats bitter prethe goe comfort him.

Grac. Faith he should be innocent by his garment; Signior, I grieve for this, but if I can help, looke for it.

Phy. I thanke ye, sir.

Const. We must contaminate our office, pray regard us as little as ye can.


Accut. Me thinkes this shold put him quite out of tune now, so let him goe now to mine Host; theres he and hee,  [p.52] and hee,

Theres shee, and she, ile have a bout with all:
And critiques honneys sweetest mixt with gal.


Enter Host, Cornutus.

Host. Goe to, there's knaves in my house! I know of no Varlets, I have an eye has his sence, a brain that can reach, I have bene cald Polititian, my wife is my wife. I am her top, i'me her head: if mine Host say the word, the Mouse shall be dun.

Corn. Not so my sweet Host, mum, mum, no words against your wife; he that meanes to live quiet, to sleep in cleane sheetes, a Pillowe under his head, his dyet drest cleanely, mum, mum, no words against his wife.

Host. Thar't a foole, thar't a foole, bee rulde by mine host, shew thy self a brave man, of the true seede of Troy, a gallant Agamemnon; tha'st a shrew to thy wife, if shee crosse thy brave humors, kicke thy heele at her huckle bone.

Enter Accutus.

Acut. Gentles, most happily encountered, how good hap hath turnd two labours into one! I was addrest to both, and at once I have met both, sure I must intreate that you must not deny.

Host. Say on, my sweete bullie, mine Host will attend thee; speake roundly to the purpose, and welcome, my bullie.

Accut. Marrie thus, there are great revels & shews preparde to beautifie the nuptials of Lentulus, and Tully, in which the Cittizens have the least share; now, would but you and some others that I shall collect,

Joyne hands with me in some queint jest,
Our shew shall deserve grace, and brave the rest.

Host, I have thee, brave spirit, tha'rt of the true seede of Troy, lets be merrie and wise, merrie hearts live long; mine Host, my brave Host, with his neighbor Cornutus shall bee two of the Maskers, and the Morrice shall be daunc'd.


Cor. Not so, mine Host. I dare not doe so, t'will distemper my wife, my house will be unquiet; mum, mum, I know the world, well enough.

Host. Thou shall goe, saies mine Host, merrie hearts live long; welcome, bullie! mine Host shall make one, so shall my Cornutus, for if I say the word the mouse shall be dun.

Enter Bos with Porters.

Porters. Save ye mine Host, heeres a parcell of Corne was directed to be delivered at your house.

Host. What ware, my little Atlas, what ware is it?

2 Por. I know not, but i'me sure tis as heavie as a horse and—

1 Por. I thinke, tis a barrel of oyle, for it spurg'd at my backe.

Bos. It was oyle, for I drew the Tap.

Grac. What, Bos, what mak'st thou heere?

Acc. Oh, chara deum soboles, magnum bovis incrementum. Bos, art there, there?

Bos. As sure as you are there, Signior.

Grac. Bos, will ye not forsake your Cabbin?

Bos. Oh sir, he that has not a tilde house must bee glad of a thatch house. May I crave a suite of you, signior?

Grac. What suit, Bos?

Bos. What you please, beggars must not chuse.

Accut. Bos is growne misticall, hee's too dark.

Bos. I speake Hebrew indeede, like Adam and Eve, before they fel to spinning; not a rag.

Grac. What, naked, Bos?

Bos. As ye see, will ye heare my suite, signior?

Gra. Drunk, & his cloathes stoln, what theef would do it?

Bos. Any theefe, sir, but no true man.

Gra. Wel, Bos, to obtaine a suit at my handes, and to doe some pennance for your fault, you shall heere maintaine an argument in the defence of drunkennes. Mine Host shall heere it, ile be your opponent, Acutus moderator: wilt thou doe it?

Host. A mad merrie grig; all good spirits; wilt thou doe it, Bos?


Bos. Ile doo't.

Grac. Seate yee, heres my place; now, Bos, propound.

Bos. Drunkenness is a vertue.

Gra. Your proofe.

Bos. Good drink is full of vertue,
Now full of good drink is drunke;
Ergo, to be drunke is to be vertuous.

Grac. I deny it: good drinke is full of vice,
Drinke takes away the sences,
Man that is sencelesse is vitious;
Ergo, good drinke is full of vice.

Bos. I deny it still: good drinke makes good bloud,
Good blood needes no Barber,
Ergo, tis good to drinke good drinke.

Accu. Hee holdes ye hard, Graccus.

Bos. Heeres stronger proofe: drunkennes ingenders with two of the morrall vertues, and sixe of the lyberall sciences.

Gra. Let him proove that and Ile yeeld.

Host. A mad spirit, yfaith.

Bos. A drunkard is valiant and lyberall; heele outface Mars, brave Hercules, and feares not the Devill; then for the most part hee's liberal, for heele give all the cloathes off his back, though hee weepe like a Widowe all the day following; nay for the sciences, hee's a good phisitian, hee vomits himself rarelie and will giue any man else a vomit, that lookes on him (if he have not a verie good stomacke); perfect in Geomitrie, for he hangs in the aire by his own conceite, and feeles no ground; and hee's all musicall, the world turns round with him, everie face in the painted cloath, shewes like a Fairie dauncing about him, and everie spar in the house a minstrell.

Grac. Good: forward.

Bos. Then hee's a good Lawyer, for hees never without a fierie facies, & the least Capias will take his habeas Corpus: besides, another point of a Lawyere, heele raile [p.55] and rave against his dearest friends and make the world think they are enemies, when the next day theile laugh, bee fat and drunk together: and a rare Astronomer, for he has starres twinckling in his eyes in the darkest night when a wise man discernes none in the firmament, and will take great paines in the practise, for lay him on his backe in the open fields over night, and you shal be sure to finde him there in the morning. Have I sed well or shall I give you a stronger proofe? An honest man will be as good as his word: Signior Graccus is an honest man, Ergo, I must have a new suite.

Accu. The moderator concludes so, Graccus is overthrown so far as the damage of the suite, so away with him; come, our fire will out strip us; mine Host and you wee expect your companies; we must crave absence awhile better to furnishe our purposes: the time of day to ye.

Host. Farwel, my good bullies, mine Host has sed and the mouse is dun.


Enter the dumb shew of the marriage, Lentulus, Tully, and the rest.

Enter Hostis in Getticaes apparel, Getic. in hers, & Mistris Dama.

Hostis. Come, Gossip, by my troth, I cannot keepe my hood in frame.

Cittie wife. Let me helpe ye, woman.

Get. Sir, we shall be troublesome to ye.

Gra. Oh urge not that I pray ye.

Get. I pray ye what shewe will be heere to night? I have seen the Babones already, the Cittie of new Ninivie and Julius Caesar, acted by the Mammets.

Grac. Oh, gentlewoman, those are showes for those places they are used in; marry, heere you must expect some rare device, as Diana bathing herself, being discovered or occulated by Acteon, he was tranfigured to a hart, & werried to death with his own dogs.

Cit. W. Thats prettie in good truth; & must Diana, be naked?

Gra. Oh of necessitie, if it be that show.

Hostis. And Acteon, too? that's prettie ifaith.

Enter Caesar, Lent: Tully, Teren: Flavia.

Caes. Now, gallant Bridegroomes, and your lovely Brides,
That have ingeminate in endlesse league
Your troth-plight hearts, in your nuptial vowes
Tyed true love knots that nothing can disolve


Till death, that meager pursevant of Jove
That Cancels all bonds: we are to clowdie,
My spirit a typtoe, nothing I could chid so much
As winged time, that gins to free a passage
To his current glasse and crops our day-light,
That mistie night will summon us to rest,
Before we feele the burthen of our eylids.
The time is tedious, wants varietie;
But that I may shew what delightful raptures
Combats my soule to see this union,
And with what boundles joy I doe imbrace it,
We heere commaund all prison gates flye ope,
Freeing all prisoners (traitors all except,)
That poore mens prayers may increase our daies,
And writers circle ye with wreathes of bayes.

Grac. S'foot, Accutus, lets lay hold of this to free our captive.

Acu. Content; ile prosecute it.

Tul. Dread soveraigne, heaven witnesse with me
With what bended spirit I have attainde
This height of happinesse; and how unwillingly,
Till heavens decree, Terentias love, and your
Faire consents did meet in one to make
Me Lord thereof: nor shall it add one scruple
Of high thought to my lowly minde.
Tully is Tully, parentage poore, the best
An Orator, but equall with the least.

Lent. Oh no doubt, Accutus, be the attempt
My perill, his royall promise is past
In that behalfe. My soveraigne, this Gentlemans
Request takes hold upon your gratious promise
For the releasement of a prisoner.

Cos. My promise is irrevocable, take it;
But what is hee and the qualitie of his fault?

Acut. A gentleman, may it please your grace; his fault Suspition, and most likly innocent.

Caes. He hath freedome, and I prethee let him be brought hither.

[Exit Acut.

Perhaps in his presence we shall win some smiles,
For I have noted oft in a simple braine,
(Only striving to excell it self)


Hath corrupted language, that hath turnd
To pleasant laughter in juditious eares;
Such may this proove, for now me thinkes
Each minute, wanting sport, doth seeme as long
And teadious, as a feaver: but who doth knowe
The true condition of this Accutus?

Tully. My Leige, of him something my knowledge
Can discover; his spirit is free as aire,
His temper temperate, if ought's uneeven
His spleene waies downe lenitie: but how
Stird by reproofe? ah, then hee's bitter and like
His name Acute, vice to him is a foule eye-sore
And could he stifle it in bitterest words he would,
And who so offends to him is paralell;
He will as soon reproove the Caedar state
As the lowe shrub.

Enter Acut. and Philaut.

Phy. Nay, good Accutus, let me not enter the presence.

Accut. Oh sir, I assure you your presence will be most acceptable in the presence at this time then a farre ritcher present. May it please your majestie, this is the man.

Caes. Let him stand forward.

Cit. W. Alas, we shal see nothing; would I were neere; now hee stands forwards.

Caes. What qualities hath he, Accutus?

Accut. A few good ones (may it please you); he handles a comb wel, a brush better, and will drink downe a Dutchman, & has good skill in pricksong.

Hostis. I, ile be sworne he had, when he was my Guest.

Acut. Please it your Maiestie to commaund him?

Caes. Oh, we can no otherwise, so well be pleased.

Phy. I beseech your Maiestie, I cannot sing.

Tul. Nay, your denyall will breed but greater expectation.

Acut. I, I, please it your grace to heare? now he begins.

Phy. My love can sing no other song, but still complaines I did her, &c. I beseech your Maiestie to let me goe.

Caes. With all our heart; Acutus, give him libertie.

Accut. Goe and for voice sake yee shall sing Ballads in the suburbes, and if ever heereafter ye chance to purchase a suite, by what your friends shal leave ye, or the credit of your friend, be not drunk again, & give him hard words for his labour.



Caes. What, ist effected, Graccus?

Gra. I have wrought the foole; Scilicet comes alone, & his Lady keepes the women company.

Accu. Tush, weele have a room scantly furnisht with lights that shall further it.

Caes. What sound is that?

Acut. I, would ye so fain enter? ile further it: please it your Maiestie to accept what is not worth acceptance? heere are a company to Gratulate these nuptials, have prepard a show—I feare not worth the sight—if you shall deeme to give them the beholding of it.

Caes. Else should we wrong their kindnes much. Accutus, be it your care to give them kindest welcome; we cannot recompence their loves without much beholdings.

Acut. Now for the cunning vizarding of them & tis done.

Hostis. Now we shall beholde the showes.

Get. Acteon and his Dogs, I pray Jupiter.

Enter the maske and the Song.

Chaunt birds in everie bush,
The blackbird and the Thrush,
The chirping Nightingale,
The Mavis and Wagtaile,
The Linnet and the Larke,
Oh how they begin, harke, harke.

Scil. S'lid, there's one bird, I doe not like her voice.

Sing againe & Exeunt.

Hostis. By my troth, me thought one should be my husband, I could even discerne his voice through the vizard.

Cittie wife. And truely by his head one should be mine.

Get. And surely by his eares one should be my sweet heart.

Caes. Accutus, you have deserved much of our love, but might we not breake the law of sport so farre as to know to whome our thankes is due, by seeing them unmaskt and the reason of their habits?

Acut. Most willingly, my Soveraigne, ile cause their returne.

Hostis. Oh excellent! now we shal see them unmaskt.


Get. In troth, I had good hope the formost had bene Acteon, when I saw his hornes.

Cit. wif. Sure the middlemost was my husband, see if he have not a wen in his forehead.


Enter Maskers.

Host. God blesse thee, noble Caesar, & all these brave bridegroomes, with their fine little dydoppers, that looke before they sleep to throw away their maiden heads: I am host of the Hobbie, Cornut. is my neighbour, but wele pull of his bopeeper; thou't know me by my nose, I am a mad merie grig, come to make thy grace laugh; sir Scillicet my guest; all true canaries, that love juce of grapes, god blesse thy Maiestie.

Acut. How now, mine Host?

Host. Ha, ha, I spie a jest. Ha, ha, Cornutus, Cornutus.

Acut. Nay, mine host, heeres a moate in your eye to.

Scil. S'lid, I hope they have not serv'd me so; by the torrid y'are an asse, a flat Asse, but the best is I know who did it; twas either you or some body else; by gad, I remember it as wel as if it were done now.

Host. T[h]ou shalt answer it to my leige, ile not be so misused, ye have a wrong element, theres fire in my face, weele mount and ascend. I'me misused, the mad comrades have plaide the knaves. Justice, my brave Caesar.

Accut. Ile answer it, mine Host. Pardon, greate Caesar:
The intent was merriment, the reason this:
A true brow bends to see good things a misse,
Men turned to beasts, and such are you mine Host;
Ile show you else, you are a Goate, look here!
Now come you, this is your's, you know it, doe you not?
How old are you? are you not a Goate now?
Shall I teach you how to use a wife and keepe her
In the rank of goodnes? linke her to thy soule,
Devide not individium, be her and she thee,
Keepe her from the Serpent, let her not Gad
To everie Gossips congregation;
For there is blushing modestie laide out
And a free rayne to sensual turpitude
Given out at length and lybidinous acts,
Free chat, each giving counsell and sensure


Capream maritum facere, such art thou Goate.
Be not so secure. And you, my grand Cornutus,
Thou Ram, thou seest thy shame, a pent-house
To thy eye-browes, doost not glorie in it, doost?
Thou'lt lye in a Trucklebed, at thy wives bed feete,
And let her goe a Gossiping while thou sweepest the kitchin.
Look, she shall witnesse against thee.

Corn. My wife there? I must be gone then.

Acut. Oh fye, betray not thy self so grossely.

Cor. I pray ye pardon me.

Accut. I dare not.

Cor. I sir, but afterward may come after claps. I know the world well enough.

Accut. Mischiefe of the Devill, be man, not all beast, do not lye,—both sheetes doe not.

Cit. w. I warrant this fellow has as many eies as a Lamprey, hee could never see so farre into the world else.

Accu. And thou pure asse, meere asse, thy eares become thee well, yfaith.

Scil. I think you merit to make a Musition of me, you furnish me with a good eare.

Accut. Thou deservdst it, thou't make thy self a Cucckold, be it but for company sake; thou hast long eares, and thinkest them hornes, thy onceites cuckolds thee, thou art jealious if thou seest thy wives—with another mans palme. And foole, thy state in that sense is the best; thou art claspt with simplicitie, (a great badge of honestie,) for the poore foole has pawnd her cloathes to redeeme thy unthriftines; be jealious no more unlesse thou weare thine eares still, for all shall be well, and you shall have your puppie againe.

Get. Shall I? by my troth, I shall be beholding to you then.

Acu. Now to ye all, be firmaments to stars,
Be stars to Firmaments, and, as you are
Splendent, so be fixed, not wandering, nor
Irregular, both keeping course together.
Shine not in pride and gorgeous attire,
When clouds doe faile the pole where thou art fixt.
Obey, cherish, honor, be kinde enough,
But let them weare no changeable stuffe;
Keepe them, as shall become your state,


Comely, and to creepe ere they goe.
Let them partake your joyes and weep with you,
Curle not the snarles that dwell upon these browes.
In all things be you kinde: of all enough,
But let them weare no changeable stuffe.

Host. Fore God a mad spirit.

Hostis. Will ye beeleeve what such a bisket brain'd fellow as this saies? he has a mouth like a double cannon, the report will be heard all ore the towne.

Cittie wife. I warrant he ranne mad for love, because no good face could indure the sight of him, and ever since he railes against women like a whot-shot.

Len. Nay, nay, we must have all friendes,
Jarring discords are no marriage musick;
Throw not Hymen in a cuckstoole; dimple
Your furrowed browes; since all but mirth was ment,
Let us not then conclude in discontent,
Say, shall we all
In friendly straine measure our paces to bed-ward?

Tul. Will Terentia follow?

Teren. If Tully be her Leader.

Host. Good bloods, good spirits, let me answer for all, none speake but mine Host; hee has his pols, and his aedypols, his times and his tricks, his quirkes, and his quilits, and his demise and dementions. God blesse thee, noble Caesar, and all these brave spirits! I am Host of the Hobby, Cornutus is my neighbour, Graccus, a mad spirit, Accutus is my friend, Sir Scillicet is my guest; al mad comrades of the true seede of Troy, that love juce of Grapes; we are all true friends, merrie harts live long, let Pipers strike up, ile daunce my cinquepace, cut aloft my brave capers, whirle about my toe, doe my tricks above ground, ile kisse my sweet hostesse, make a curtesie to thy grace; God blesse thy Maiestie and the Mouse shall be dun.

Cor. Come wife, will you dance?

Wife. Ile not daunce, I, must you come to Court to have hornes set on your head? I could have done that at home.

Host. I, I, be rulde at this time; what? for one merrie day wele find a whole moone at midsommer.



Caes. Gentles, wee thanke yee all, the night hath spent
His youth, and drowsie Morpheus bids us battell.
We will defie him still, weele keep him out
While we have power to doe it. Sound
Your loudest noise: set forward to our chamber.

Gra. Advance your light.

Caes. Good rest to all.

Omn. God give your grace God-night.