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my bed,

Oh, I

think to sate your lust! you would love a horse, Hip. Yes, guilty, my good lady. a bear, a croaking toad, so your hot itching veins Inf. Nay, you may laugh, but henceforth shun might have their bound. Then the wild Irish dart was thrown : come, how? the manner of this with no whore's leavings I'll be poisoned. fight?

[Erit. Inf. 'Twas thus; he gave me this battery first. Hip. O'er-reached so finely ! 'Tis the very dia

mond Mistake, believe me, all this in heaten gold : And letter which I sent; this villainy Yet I held out, but at length this was charmed. Some spider closely weaves, whose poisoned bulka3 Hip. What? change your diamond, wench! I must let forth.- Who's there's without? the act is base,

Serv. [within.] My lord calls. Common, but foul; so shall not your disgrace. Hip. Send me the footman. Could not I feed your appetite?

Sero. Call the footman to my lord. Bryan! Inf. Oh, men !

Bryan !
You were created angels, pure and fair;
But, since the first fell, worse than devils you are.

Exter BRYAN.
You should our shields be, but you prove our rods,
Were there no men, women might live like gods. Hip. It can be no man else; that Irish Judas,
Guilty, my lord ?

24 Bred in a country where no venom prospers,

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23 Bulk-i. e. body. So, in David and Bethsabe, by G. Peele :

Bury his bulk beneath a heap of stones."
Ben Jonson's Sejanus, A. 5:

“ Their bulks and souls are bound on fortune's wheci."
Volpone, A. 2. S. 3:

“ Beside, this feat body of mine doth not crave

Half the meat, drink, and cloth, one of your bulks will have.” 24 Bred in a country where no venom prospers. —That Ireland is free from all venomous or poisonout creatures, is a fact which is asserted by almost every one who bath written concerning that country, Dericke, in The Image of Irelandę, 1581, Sign. C2, says:

Within the compasse of this land, no poysonyng beast doeth live; To adder, snake, nor crocadile,

no respitte doeth it give :
Whereby the same repast maie take

to feede his appetite :
But with a deadly percyng blowe,

eche vermine it doeth smite.
As sone as they doe touche the grounde,

even hy and by they dye;
And hope, of longer life to live,

from every one doeth ilye.
For where tyme past it did possesse

eche hurtfull wicked beast;
The hissing serpent with her mate,

and worme of poyson least ;
Yet now no such it will retaine,

it voucheth not to see ;
The frogge, the tode, nor viper vile,

within her bounds to bee, The same author says, that the country was exempted from these poisonous creatures by the means of St Patrick. He likewise adds,

“ No beast that poyeth mortall man

is procreated theare; It brynges forthe no lion feare,

nor yet the ravnyng beare. No beast (I saie) which do possesse

one jote of crewell kinde; Excepte the wolfe, that nosome is,

in Irishe soile I finde."

lain :

est not.

But in the nation's blood, hath thus betrayed me. you may see that another hath entered into hatSlave, get you from your service.

band for him too. Six and four have put him inBryan. Faat meanest thou by this now? to this sweat. Hip. Question me not, nor leinpt my fury, vil- Bel. Where's all his money?

Orl. 'Tis put over by exchange. His doublet Could'st thou turn all the mountains in the land was going to be translated, but for me: if any To hills of gold, and to give me, here thou stay- man would have lent but half a ducat on bis beard,

the hair of it had stuft a pair of breeches by this Bryan, I faat, I care not.

time. I had but one poor penny, and that I was Hip. Prate not, but get thee gone, I shall send glad to niggle out, and buy a holly wand to grace else.

him through the street. As hap was, his boots Bryan. I, do predy, I had rather have thee were on; and them I dustied, to make people make a scabbard of my guts, and let out all de think he had been riding, and I had run by hím. Irish puddings in my poor belly, den to be a false Bel. Oh me, how does my sweet Matheo ? koave to dee I faat, I will never see dype own sweet face more. A muwhid deer a gra, fare dee

Enter MATHEO. well, fare dee well! I will go steal cows again in Ireland.

[Erit. Math. Oh, rogue, of what devilish stuff are Hip. He's damned that raised this whirlwind, these dice made of? of the parings of the devil's which hath blown

corns of his toes, that they run thus damnably? Into her eyes this jealousy! Yet I'll on,

Bel. I pr’ythee vex not. I'll on, stood armed devils staring in my face; Math. If any handicraft-s-man was ever sufferTo be pursued in flight, quickens the race : ed to keep shop in hell, it will be a dice-maker; Shall

my blood-streams by a wife's lust be bar'd! he's able to undo more souls than the devil. I Fond woman, no! iron grows by strokes more played with mine own dice, yet lost.-Ilave you hard.

any money? Lawless desires are seas scorning all bounds;

Bel. 'Las, I have none. Or sulphur, which, being rammed up, more con- Muth. Must have money, must have scine; founds:

must have a cloak, and rapier, and things. Will Struggling with madmen, inadness nothing tames; you go set your lime-twigs, and get me some birds, Winds wrestling with great fires incense the flames. some money?

Erit. Bel. What lime-twigs should I set?

Asath. You will not, then? Must have cash Enter BELLAFRONT and ORLANDO.

and pictures: Do you hear, frailty, shall I walk Bel. How now, what ails your master? in a Plynsouth cloak, 25 that's to say, like a rogue,

Orl. He's taken a younger brother's purge, for- in my hose and doublet, and a crabtree cudgel in sooth, and that works with him.

my hand, and you swim in your satins? Must Bel. Where is his cloak and rapier?

have money, come. Orl. He has given up his cloak, and his rapier Orl. Is't bed-time, master, that you undo my is bound to the peace; if you look a little higher, I mistress ?

Barnaby Rych, in his Description of Ireland, p. 44. says, “ I will not contend whether it were Saint Patricke who, by his praiers, hath thus purged Ireland from toads, from snakes, from adders, and from other like venomous wormes; but there are other, as well heasts as birds, as the roebuck, the moule, the pianet, the nytingale, that are meer strangers iu Ireland, as the other; and I cannot thinke but that it was one man's worke to expell all these together, and all at one time. But if it were Saint Patrick, or whosoever otherwise, that was so severe against the nytingale, the sweete querrister of the wood, whose delectable harmony is pleasing to every eare, I would he had been as strict in justice against that foulmouthed bird the cuckow, whose notes were never yet pleasing to any man's eare, that was jealous of his wife."

25 Plymouth cloak—" That is,” says Ray, in his Proverbs, 1742, p. 238.“ a cane, a staff; whereof this is the occasion. Many a man of good extraction, coming home from far voyages, may chance to land here, and, being out of sorts, is unable for the present time and place to recruit himself with clothes. Here (if not friendly provided) they make the next wood their draper's shop, where a staff cut out serves them for a covering. For we use, when we walk in cuerpo, to carry a staff

' in our hands, but none when in a cloak.”

A Plymouth cloak is mentioned in The Wandering Jer, Sign. D: “ But let fortune snatch her wheel from you, a poor ale-house is your inn, an old freeze jerkin, in summer, your Sonday suit, and a Plimouth cloake your caster.”

ver.

Bel. Undo me? Yes, yes, at these riflings Math. Signior Lodovico ! How does my little I have been too often.

mirror of knighthood ? this is kindly done, i’faith : Math. Help to flea, Pacheco.

welcome, by my troth. Orl. Fleaing call you it?

Lod. And bow dost, frolic? save you, fair lady. Math. I'll pawn you, by the Lord, to your very Thou lookest smug and bravely, noble Matheo. eye-brows.

Math. Drink and feed, laugh and lie warm. Bel. With all my heart; since heaven will have Lod. Is this thy wife? me puor,

Math. A poor gentlewoman, sir, whom I make As good be drowned at sea, as drowned at shore. use of a-nights.

Orl. Why hear you, sir?' i'faith, do not make Lod. Pay custom to your lips, sweet lady. away her gown.

Math. Borrow some shells of him; some wine, Math. Oh, it's summer, it's summer; your on- sweetheart. ly fashion for a woman now, is to be light, to be Lod. I'll send for't then, i'faith. light.

Math. You send for't? Some wine, I pr’ytbee. Orl. Why, pray, sir, employ soine of that mo

Bel. I have no money. ney you have of mine.

Math. 'Sblood, nor Í: What wine love you, Math. Thine? I'll starve first, I'll beg first : signior? when I touch a pevny of that, let these fingers Lod. Here, or I'll not stay, I protest ; trouble ends rot.

the gentlewoman too much? (Erit BELLAFRONT.] Orl. So they may, for that's past touching. I And what news flies abroad, Matheo : saw my twenty pounds fly high.

Math. Troth none. Oh, signior, we hare been Maih. Koowest thou never a damned broker merry in our days. about the city?

Lod. And no doubt shall again. Orl. Damned broker? yes, five hundred. The divine powers never shoot darts at men

Math. The gown stood me in above twenty Mortal, to kill them. ducats, borrow ten of it; cannot live without sil- Math. You say true.

Lod. Why should we grieve at want? Orl. I'll make what I can of it, sir; I'll be your Say the world made thee her minion, that broker,

Thy head lay in her lap, and that she danced thee But not your damned broker.-Oh, thou scurvy On her wanton knee, she could but give thee a knave!

whole What makes a wife turn whore, but such a slave? World ; that's all, and that all's nothing : the

[Erit. world's Math. How now, little chick, what ailest? Greatest part cannot fill up one corner of thy weeping, for a handful of tailors' shreds ? Pox on heart. them, are there not silks enow at mercers ? Say, the three corners were all filled, alas! Bel. I care rot for gay feathers, I.

Of what art thou possessed ? a thin blown glass : Math. What doest care for then? why doest Such as by boys is puffed into the air. grieve?

Were twenty kingdoms thine, thou’dst live in care; Bel. Why do I grieve? a thousand sorrows Thou could'st not sleep the better, nor live longer, strike

Nor merrier be, nor healthfuller, nor stronger. At one poor heart, and it lives. Matheo, If then thou want'st, thus make that want thy Thou art a gamester, prythee throw at all,

pleasure, Set a!l upon one cast! we kneel and pray, No man wants all things, nor has all in measure, And struggle for life, yet must be cast away. Math. I am the most wretched fellow : sure Meet misery quickly then, spiit all, sell all, some left-handed priest christened me, I am so And when thou hast sold all, spend it; but, I be- unlucky; I am never out of one puddle or anoseech thee,

ther, still falling. Build not thy mind on me to coin thee more;

Enter BELLAFRONT and ORLANDO.
To get it, would'st thou have me play the whore?
Math. 'Twas your profession before I married Math. Fill out wine to my little finger.
you.

With my heart, i'faith.
Bel. Umb? it was indeed : if all men should Lod. Thanks, good Matheo.
be branded

To your own sweet self. For sins long since laid up, who could be saved ? Örl. All the brokers' hearts, sir, are made of The quarter-day's at hand, how will you do fint. I can, with all my knocking, strike but six To pay the rent, Matheo ?

sparks of fire out of them; here's six ducats, if Nath. Why, do as all of our occupation do you'll take them. against quarter-days; break up house, remove, Math. Give me them : an evil conscience gnaw shift your lodgings : Pox a your quarters ! them all! moths and plagues hang upon their

lousie wardrobes ! Enter LODOVICO.

Lod. Is this your man, Matheo ? an old ser. Lod. Where's this gallant?

ving-man.

yet

Orl. You may give me t'other half too, sir; Horse. Ordinary dishes, by my troth, sweet men; That's the beggar.

there's few good i'the city; I am as well furnisht Lod. What hast there, gold?

as any, and though I say it, as well customed. Math. A sort of rascals are in my debt, God Bots. We have meats of all sorts of dressing; knows what ! and they feed me with bits, with we have stewed meat for your Frenchinen, pretty crums; a pox choke them!

light picking meat for your Italian, and that Lod. A word, Matheo: be not angry with me; which is rotten roasted for Don Spaniardo. Believe it that I know the touch of tin,

Lod. A pox on't. And can part copper, though it be gilded o'er, Bots. We have poulterers' ware for your sweet From the true gold: the sails which thou dost bloods, as dove, chicken, duck, teal, woodcock, spread,

and so forth : and butcher's meat for the citizen: Would shew well, if they were not borrowed. yet muttons fall very bad this

year. The sound of thy low fortunes drew me hither, Lod. Stay, is not that my patient linen-draper I give myself unto thee, prythee use me ; yonder, and my fine young smug mistress, his wife? I will bestow on you a suit of sattin,

Car. Sirrah Grannam, I'll give thee for thy fee And all things else to fit a gentleman,

twenty crowns, if thou canst but procure me the Because I love you.

wearing of yon velvet cap. Math. Thanks, good noble knight.

Horse. You'd wear another thing besides the Lod. Call on me when you please ;

cap. You're a wag. Till then, farewell.

Erit. Bots. Twenty crowns? we'll share, and I'll be Math. Hast angled? hast cut up this fresti sal- your pully to draw her on. mon?

Lod. Do't presently, we'll have some sport. Bel. Would'st have me be so base?

Horse. Wheel you about, sweet men: do you Math. Its base to steal, its base to be a whore; see, I'll cheapen wares of the man, whilst Bots is Thou'lt be more base, I'll make thee keep a door. doing with his wife,

[Erit. Lod. To't; if we come into the shop to do you Orl. I hope he will not sneak away with all the grace, we'll call you madani. money, will he?

Bots. Pox a your old face, give it the badge of Bel, Thou seest he does.

all scurvy faces, a masque. Orl. Nay, then, its well. I set my brains up- Can. What is't you lack, gentlewoman ? camon an upright last; though my wits be old, yet brick or lawns, or fine hollands? pray draw near, they are like a withered pippin, wholesome. Look I can sell you a penny-worth. you, mistress, I told him I had but six ducats of Buts. Some cambrick for my old lady. the (knave) broker; but I had eight, and kept Can. Cainbrick? you shall, the purest thread these two for yöli.

in Millan. Bel. Thou should'st have given him all.

Lod. und Car. Save you, Siguior Candido. Orl. What, to fly high?

Lod. How does my noble inaster? how my Bet. Like waves, my misery drives on misery.

fair mistress?

[Erit. Can. My worshipful good servant, view it well, Orl. Sell his wife's clothes from her back? Does for 'tis both fine and even. any poulterer's wife pull chickens alive? He riots Car. Cry you mercy, madam, though mask'd, I all abroad, wants all at home; he dices, whores, thought it should be you by your man. Pray, swaggers, swears, cheats, borrows, pawns : I'll Signior, shew her the best, for she commonly deals give him hook and line a little more for all this. for good waré. Yet sure i'the end he'll delude all :ny hopes, Can. Then this shall fit her, this is for your And show me a French trick danced on the ropes. | ladyship.

[Erit. Bots. A word, I pray, there is a waiting gen

tlewoman of my lady's, her name is Ruyna, says Enter at one Door Lodovico and CAROLO ; at

she's your kinswoman, and that you should be another Buts and Mistress HORSELEACH ;

one of her aunts. Candido and his Wife appear in the Shop. Wife. One of her aunts?troth, sir, I know her not. Lod. Hist, bist, lieutenant Bots, how dost, man? Bots. If it please you to bestow the poor la

Cur. Whither are you ambling, Madam Íforse-bour of your legs at any time, I will be your conleach? Horse. About worldly profit, sir : how do your

Wife. I am a snail, sir, seldom leave my house, worships?

if't pleasc her to visit me, she shall be welcome. Bots. We want tools, gentlemen, to furnish Bots. Do you hear? the naked troth is: my the trade; they wear out day and night, they lady hath a young knight, her son, who loves you ; wear out till no mettle be left in their back; we you're made, if you lay hold upon't: this jewel he liear of two or three new wenches are come up sends

you. with a carrier, and your old goshawk here is fly- Wife. Sir, I return his love and jewel with ing at them.

scorn; let go my hand, or I shall call my husband. Lod. And faith, wbat flesh have you at homc? | You are an arrant knave.

(Erit. VOL. I,

4 D

voy thither?

Lod. What, will she do?

brick

you

wo'd deal in, there's the best, all MilBols. Do? 'they shall all do if Bots sets upon lan cannot sanıple it. them once; she was as if she had profest the trade, Lod. Do you hear? one, two, three : S'foot, squeamish at first, at last I shewed her this jewel, there came in four gallants; sure your wife is said, a knight sent it her.

slipt up, and the fourth man I hold my life is Lod. Is't gold, and right stones?

grafting your wardentree. 26 Bots. Copper, copper, I go a tishing with these Can. Ha, ha, ha: you gentlemen are full of jest. baits. She nibhled, but would not swallow the If she be up, she's gone some wares to show, hook, because the conger-head her husband was I have above as good wares as below. by : but she bids the gentleman name any after- Lvd. Have you so ? nay thennoon, and she'll meet him at her garden-house, Can. Now, gentlemen, is't cainbricks? which I know.

Bryun. I predee now let me have de best wares. Lod. Is this no lie now?

Can. What's that he says, pray, gentlemen? Bots. Damn me if

Lod. Marry, he says we are like to have the Lod. Oh prythee stay there.

best wares. Pots. The twenty crowns, sir.

Can. The best wares ! all are bad, yet wares Lod. Before he has his work done? but on

do good, my knightly word, he shall pay't thee.

And, like to surgeons, let sick kingdoms blood.

Bryan. Faat a devil pratest tow su, a pox on Enter Astolfo, Beraldo, FONTINELL, and dee, Í preddee let me see some hollen, to make BRYAN

linen shirts, for fear my body be lousy.

Can. Indeed I understand no word he speaks. Ast. I thought thou had'st been gone into thine Car. Marry, he says, that at the siege in Holown country.

land there was much bawdry used among the solBryan. No faat la, I cannot go dis four or diers, though they were lousy. tree dayes.

Can. It may be so, that's likely, true indeed, Ber. Look thee, yonder's the shop, and that's In every garden, sir, does grow that weed. the man himself.

Bryan. Pox on de gardens, and de weeds, and Fonti. Thou shalt but cheapen, and do as we de fooles cap dere, and de cloutes; hear, dost told thee, to put a jest upon him, to abuse his make a hobby-horse of me? patience.

Omnes. Oh, fie, he has torn the cambricke Bryun. I faat, I doubt my pate shall be knocked: Can. 'Tis no matter. but sa crees sa me, for your shakes, I will runne Ast. It frets me to the soul to any linen-draper in hell come preddy.

Can. So does not me. Omnes. Save you, gallants.

My customers do oft for remnants call, Lod and Car. Oh, well inet!

These are two remnants now, no loss at all. Can. You'll give no more you say? I cannot But let me tell you, were my servants here, take it.

It would have cost more. Thank you, gendeHorse. Truly I'll give no more.

men, Can. It must noi fetch it. What wo'd you I use you well, pray know my shop again. have, sweet gentlemen?

[Erit. Ast. Nay, here's the customer.

Omnes. Ha, ha, ha; come, come, let's go, let's [Exeunt Bots and HorsEleach.

go.

[Exeunt. Lod. The garden-house you say? we'll bolt out your roguery.

Enter MATHEO (brave 27) and BELLAFRONT. Cun. I will but lay these parcels by-My men Math. How, am I suited, Front? am I not are all at Customhouse uuloading wares; if cam- 'gallant, ha?

25 Warden-tree-A pear tree. “ Volemum. Plin. Volema autem pyra sunt prægrandia, ita dicta, quod impleant volam.” Barret's Alvearie. The French call this pear poire de garde. See Mr Steerens's Note on The Winter's Tale, A. 4. S. 2.

27 Brave-i. e. fine, gaudily dressed. As, in Lyly's Euphues and his England, p. 67 : “-another layeth all his living upon his backe, judging that women are wedded to braverie." The Picture, by Massinger, A. 3. S. 6:

“ And to how many several women you are

“ Beholding for your bravery.The Emperor of the East, A. 2. S. 1:

"-her bravery
“ Su alters her, I had forgot her face."

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