you first

Did entertain my passions and regard,
Have worn my easy heart away; my breast
Is emptier than mine eyes, that have distilled
Their balls to funeral dew. It is too late.

Lucy. Ginet, my fears have in them too much prophecy;

I told thee she would ne'er recover.

Gin. For my poor part, I wish no easier bed At night than the cold grave where she must lie. Amp. Luce, Luce! intreat the gentleman to sit. Lucy. Sit near her, sir; you hear her voice grows weak.

Amp. That you may see your scorns could not persuade

My love to thoughts of danger or revenge,
The faint remainder of my breath I'll waste
In legacies, and, sir, to you; you shall
Have all the laws will suffer me to give.

E. Pul. Who, I? sweet saint, take heed of
last deeds;

Your bounty carries cunning murder in't;
I shall be killed with kindness, and depart
Weeping, like a fond infant, whom the nurse
Would sooth too early to his bed,

your

Lucy. Nay, sir, no remedy; you must have all. Though you procured her death, the world shall

not

Report she died bebolden to you.

Gin. Go to her, sir he'll speak with you again. Amp. Sir, if mine eyes, in all their health and glory,

Had not the power to warm you into love, Where are my hopes, now they are dim, and have

Almost forgot the benefit of light?

E. Pal. Not love! lady! Queen of my heart!
what oaths

Or execrations can persuade your faith
From such a cruel jealousy?

Amp. I'd have some testimony, sir; if but
To assure the world, my love, and bounty at
My death, were both conferred on one that shew'd
So much requital, as declares he was
Of gentle human race.

E. Pal. What shall I do? Prescribe me dangers now, horrid as those Which midnight fires beget in cities overgrown, Or winter storms produce at sea; and try How far my love will make me venture to Augment the esteem of your's.

Amp. That trial of your love which I request, Implies no danger, sir; 'tis not in me

To urge any thing, but what your own desires
Would chuse.

E. Pal. Name it: like eager mastiffs, chained From the encounter of their game, my hot Fierce appetite diminisheth my strength.

Amp. 'Tis only this; for fear some other should Enjoy you when I am cold in my last sleep, I would intreat you to sit here, grow sick,

E. Pal. How! die with you!

[Takes LUCY aside. "Twere fit you hastened her to write down all She can bestow, and in some form of law: I fear she's mad; her senses are so lost, She'll never find them to her use again. Lucy. I pray sir, why?

E. Pal. Did you not hear what a fantastic

suit

She makes, that I would sit and die with her? Lucy. Does this request seem strange? you will do little

For a lady, that deny to bring her
Onward her last journey; or is't your thrift?
Alas, you know, souls travel without charge.
E. Pal. Her little skull is tainted too.
Amp. Is he not willing, Luce?

E. Pal. My best, dear lady, I am willing to
Resign myself to any thing but death.
Do not suspect my kindness now: in troth-
I've business upon earth, will hold me here
At least a score or two of years; but, when
That's done, I am content to follow you.

Amp. If this persuasion cannot reach at your
Consent, ye let me witness so much love
In you, as may enforce your languish and
Decay, for my departure from your sight.
Lucy. Can you do less than languish for her
death?

Sit down here and begin; true sorrow, sir,
If you have any in your breast, will quickly
Bring you low enough.

E. Pal. Alas, good ladies, do you think my lan guishment

And grief is to begin upon me now?
Heaven knows how I have pined and groaned,
since first

Your letter gave me knowledge of the cause.
Lucy. It is not seen, sir, in your face.

E Pal. My face! I grant you, I bate inwardly; I'm scorched and dried, with sighing, to a mummy:

My heart and liver are not big enough

To choke a daw. A lamb laid on the altar for A sacrifice hath much more entrails in't.

Lucy. Yet still your sorrow alters not your face. E. Pal. Why no, I say; no man that ever was Of nature's making, hath a face moulded With less help for hypocrisy than mine. Gin. Great pity, sir.

E. Pal. Though I endured the diet and the
Alux,

Lay seven days buried up to the lips like a
Diseased sad Indian, in warm sand, whilst his
Afflicted female wipes his salt foam off

With her own hair, feeds him with buds of gua

cum

For his sallad, and pulp of salsa for
His bread: I say, all this endured, would not
Concern my face. Nothing can decline that.
Amp. Yet you are used, sir, to bate inwardly?

1

E. Pal. More than heirs unlanded, or unjoin

tured wives.

Enter ENGINE.

Amp. Will you permit the last of all my hours Should be defiled with infamy, proclaimed By lewder tongues to be unchaste, even at My death? What will my guardian guess, to find

wish.

Lucy. What, hath he brought a husband for

my lady?

Eng. There is a certain one-legged gentleman, Whose better half of limbs is wood; for whom Kind nature did provide no hands to prevent Stealing; and, to augment his gracefulness, He's crooked as a witches pin.

Lucy. Is he so much wood?

Eng. So much, that if my lady were in health, And married to him, as her guardian did Propose, we should have an excellent generation Of bed-staves.

Lucy. When does he come?

Eng. To-night, if his slow litter will consent; For they convey him tenderly, lest his Sharp bones should grate together. Sir Pallatine, I wish you could escape my master's sight. E. Pal. Is he coming hither?

Eng. He's at the door. My lady's sickness was No sooner told him, but he streight projects To proffer her a will of his own making: He means, sir, to be heir of all. If he Should see you here, he would suspect my loyalty, And doubt you for some cunning instrument, That means to interrupt his covetous hopes. E. Pal. Then I'll be gone.

Eng. No, sir; he needs must meet you in Your passage down; besides, it is not fit For you, and your great hopes, with my dependency

On both, to have you absent when my lady dies;
I know you must have all. Sir, I could wish
That we might hide you here.—

Draw out the chest within, that's big enough
To hold you; it were dangerous to have

My lady's guardian to find you, sir.

[They draw in a Chest. E. Pal. How! laid up like a brush'd gown,

under lock

And key! by this good light, not I.

Lucy. O sir, if but to save the honour of Your mistress' fame: what will he think to see So comely and so streight a gentleman Converse here with a lady in her chamber? And in a time that makes for his suspicion too, When he's from home?

E. Pal. I hate inclosure, I;

It is the humour of a distress'd rat.

Gin. It is retirement, sir; and you'll come forth

Again so sage!

Amp. Sir Pallatine!

E. Pal. No more, I'll in ; but think on't, gentle
lady;

First to bate inwardly, and then to have
My outward person shut thus and enclosed
From day-light, and your company; I say,
But think, if't be not worse than death.

[He enters the Chest. Amp. Lock him up, Luce, safe as thy maidenhead.

Enter Sir Tyrant THRIFT, Thrift. Engine, where's my charge, Engine, my dear charge?

Eng. Sick, as I told you, sir; and lost to all The hope that earthly med'cine can procure; Her physicians have taken their last fees, And then went hence shaking their empty heads, As they had left less brain than hope.

Thrift. Alas, poor charge! come, let me see her, Engine.

Lucy. At distance, sir, I pray; for I have

heard

For love and kindred's sake, to have near her at
Her death; she'll outwatch a long rush candle,
And reads to her all night the posy of
Spiritual flowers.

Thrift. Does she not gape for legacies?

Eng. Fie, no; there's a cornelian ring, perhaps, She aims at, cost ten groats; or a wrought smock, My lady made now 'gainst her wedding, sir; Trifles, which maids desire to weep upon With funeral tales, after a midnight posset. Thrift. Thou said'st below, she hath made me her heir.

Eng. Of all, even to her slippers and her pins, Amp. Luce, inethought, Luce, I heard my guardian's voice.

Eng. It seems her senses are grown warm again;

Your presence will recover her.

Thrift. Will it recover her? then I'll be gone. Eng. No, sir; she'll streight grow cold again.

On, on;

She looks that you would speak to her.
Thrift. Alas, poor charge! I little thought to

see

VOL. I.

2 Q

With falls his mother took after his making.
Amp. Death is my husband now; but yet I

thank

You for your tender pains, and wish you would
Continue it, in quiet governing my legacies.
When I am past the power to see it, sir,
You shall enjoy all.

Thrift. This will occasion more church building,

And raising of new hospitals; there were
Enow before; but, Charge, you'll have it so.
Amp. I'll make, sir, one request; which I have
hope

You'll grant, in thankfulness to all my bounty. Thrift. O, dear Charge! any thing: your cousin here

Shall witness the consent and act.

Amp. Because I would not have my vanities
Remain, as fond examples, to persuade
An imitation in those ladies that

Succeed my youthful pride i' the town: my plumes,
Fantastic flowers, and chains; my haughty rich
Embroideries, my gaudy gowns, and wanton jewels,
I have locked within a chest.

Lucy. There, sir, there the chest stands.
Amp. And I desire it may be buried with me.
Thrift. Engine, take care, Engine, to see it done.
Amp. Now, sir, I beseech you leave me for
'twill

But make my death more sorrowful, thus to
Continue my converse with one I so
Much love, and must forsake at last.

Thrift. Alack, alack!- Bury her to-night, En-
gine.

Eng. Not, sir, unless she dies. Her ancestors Have sojourned long here in St Barthol'mews, And there's a vault i' the parish church, kept only For her family; she must be buried there.

Thrift. Aye, Engine, aye: and, let me see; the church,

Thou know'st, joins to my house; a good preven

I'll have no more: nor, d' you hear, no burnt wine;

I do not like this drinking healths to the memory O' the dead; it is prophane.

Eng. You are obeyed:

But, sir, let me advise you now, to trust
The care and benefit of all your fate
Presents you in this house, to my discretion;
And get you instantly to horse again.

Thrift. Why, Engine? speak.

Eng. In brief: you know, that all The writings which concern your ward's estate Lie at her lawyer's, fifteen miles from hence. Your credit, he not knowing, sir, she's sick, Will easily tempt them to your own possession: Which, once enjoyed, you're free from all litigi

ous suits

His envy might incense her kindred to.

Thrift. Enough, Engine; I am gone. Eng. If you should meet the crooked lover in His litter, sir, (as 'tis your own road) You may persuade him move like a crab, backward;

For here's no mixture but with worms.

Thrift. 'Tis well thought on, Engine; farewell, Engine:

Be faithful, and be rich.

Eng. My breeding and

Good-manners, sir, teach me t'attend your bounty. Thrift. But, Engine, I could wish she would be To die to-night.

sure

Eng. Alas, good soul! I'll undertake She shall do any thing to please you, sir.

[Exit THRIFT. Amp. Engine, thou hast wrought above the power Of accident or art.

Eng. If you consider't with a just And lib'ral brain: first, to prevent The access and tedious visits of the fiend, His love-sick monster; and then rid him hence Upon a journey, to preserve this house Empty, and free to celebrate the rest Of our designs.

Lucy. This, Engine, is thy holiday.

[Lucy knocks at the Chest. What hoa! Sir Pallatine, are you within? E. Pal. Is Sir Tyrant Thrift gone? open, lady,

open. Lucy. The casement, sir, I will a little, to Increase your witship's allowance of air;

[Opens a wicket at the end of the Chest.
But th' troth, for liberty of limbs, you may
As soon expect it in a galley, sir,
After six murders and a rape.

E. Pal. How! lady of the lawn?
Lucy. Sir Launcelot,

You may believ't, if your discreet faith please.
This tenement is cheap; here you shall dwell,
Keep home, and be no wanderer.

E. Pal. The pox take me if I like this; sure, when

Eng. D' you know this lady, sir?

E. Pal. The Lady Ample!
Her veil's off too, aud in the lusty garb
Of health and merriment! Now shall I grow
As modest as a snail, that in's affliction
Shrinks up himself and's horns into his shell,
Ashamed still to be seen.

Amp. Couldst thou believe,
Thou bearded babe, thou dull ingenderer,
Male rather in the back than iu the brain,
That I could sicken for thy love? for the cold
Society of a thin northern wit? [E. PAL. sings.
E. Pa!. Then Trojans wail, with great remorse,
The Greeks are locked i'the wooden horse.

Enter Younger PALLATINE.

Lucy. Pall, come in, Pall, 'tis done; the spa

cious man

Of land is now contented with his own length.
Amp. Your brother's come to see you, sir.
E. Pal. Brother! mad girls these! couldst thou
believ't, sirrah?

I am coffined up like a salmon pie,

New sent from De'nshire for a token. Come, Break up the chest.

Y. Pal. Stay, brother; whose chest is it?

E. Pal. Thou'lt ask more questions than a constable

In's sleep; pr'ythee dispatch.

Y. Pal. Brother, I can

But mark the malice and the envy of
Your nature; I am no sooner exalted
To rich possessions and a glorious mein,
But straight you tempt me to a forfeiture
Of all; to commit felony, break open chests.
E. Pal. O for Dame Patience, the fool's mis-
tress!

Y. Pal. Brother, you have prayed well; Hea-
ven send her you:

You must forsake your own fair fertile soil,
To live here by your wits.

Lucy. Aud dream, sir, of
Enjoying goodly ladies six yards high,
With satin trains behind them, ten yards long.
Amp. Clothed all in purple, and embroidered
with

Embossments wrought in imagery, the works
Of the ancient poets drawn into similitude,
And cunning shape.

Gin. And this attained, sir, by your wits.
Y. Pal. Nothing could please your haughty

palate, but

The muscatelli, and Frontiniac grape;

Legged partridge of the Genoa hills.

Eng. With your broad liver o' the Venetian

E. Pal. How! buried, and alive!

Y. Pal. Brother, your hand.

Farewell; I'm for the north: the fame of this
Your voluntary death, will there he thought
Pure courtesy to me; I mean to take
Possession, sir, and patiently converse
With all those hinds, those herds, and flocks,
That you disdained in fulness of your wit.

Lucy. Help, Pall, to carry him; he takes it
heavily.

E. Pal. I'll not endur't:-fire! murder! fire! treason!

Murder! treason! fire!

Amp. Alas, you are not heard;

The house contains none but ourselves.

[Exeunt, carrying out the Chest. Enter THWACK, PERT, MEAGer.

Pert. We bring you, sir, commends from Pallatine.

Thwack. I had as lieve y' had brought it from the devil,

Together with his horns boiled to a jelly,

For a cordial against lust.

Mea. We mean the Younger Pallatine; one, sir,

That loves your person, and laments this chance,

Which his false brother hath exposed you to. Pert. And, as we told you, sir, by his com mand,

We have compounded with the constable,
In whose dark house you're now a prisoner.
But, sir, take't on my faith, you must disburse;
For gold is a restorative, as well
To liberty as health. 41

Thwack. And you believe,

It seems, that your small, tiny officer

Will take his unction in the palm, as lovingly
As your exalted grandee, that awes all
With hideous voice and face?

Pert. Even so the moderns render it.

Thwack. But, gentlemeu, you ask a hundred pounds;

'Tis all I've left.

Thwack. These carnal mulcts and tributes are
designed

Only to such vain people as have land;
Are you and your friend landed, sir?

Pert. Such land as we can share, sir, in the map. Thwack. Lo you there now! These live by their wits:

Why should not I take the next key I meet,
And open this great head, to try if there
Be any brains left, but sour curds and plumb-
broth!

Cozened in my youth; cozened in my age!
Sir, do you judge, if I have cause to curse
This false inhuman town. When I was young,
I was arrested for a stale commodity
Of nut-crackers, long gigs, and casting-tops:
Now I am old, imprisoned for a bawd.

Pert. These are sad tales.

Thwack. I will write down to the country, to dehort 42

The gentry from coming hither, letters

Of strange dire news; you shall disperse them,

sir.

Pert. Most faithfully.

Thwack. That there are lents six years long, proclaimed by the state:

That our French and Deal wines are poisoned so
With brimstone, by the Hollander, that they
Will only serve for med'cine, to recover
Children of the itch: and there is not left
Sack enough to mull for a parson's cold.
Pert. This needs must terrify.

Thwack. That our theatres are razed down; and where

They stood, hoarse midnight lectures preached by wives

Of comb-makers, and midwives of Tower-wharf. Pert. Twill take impregnably.

Thwack. And that a new plantation, sir, mark

me,

Is made i' the Covent Garden, from the sutlery O' the German camps and the suburbs of Paris; Where such a salt disease reigns, as will make Sassafras dearer than unicorns' horn.

Pert. This cannot chuse but fright the gentry hence,

And more impoverish the town, than a
Subversion of their fair of Bartholomew,
The absence of the terms and court.

Thwack. You shall, if my projections thrive, in less,

Sir, than a year, stable your horses in
The New Exchange, and graze them in the Old.
Enter YOUNGER PALLATINE, MEAGER, QUEA-
SY, SNORE, Mrs SNORE.

Pert. Jog off; there's Pall, treating for your liberty.

Y. Pal. The canopy, the hangings, and the

bed,

Are worth more than your rent; come, you're overpaid;

Besides, the gentleman's betrayed; he is no bawd,

Snore. Truly, a very civil gentleman; 'Las, he hath only roared, and sworn, and cursed, Since he was ta'en; no bawdry, I'll assure ye. Mrs Snore. Gossip Queasy, what a good 'yer 43 would ye have?

Quea. I am content, if you and I were friends. Y. Pal. Come, come, agree; 'tis I that ever bleed,

41 For gold is a restorative, as well

42 Dehort-i. e. advise against, to dissuade. S.