Πλουτοφθαλμία Πλουτογαμία. A pleasant comedy entituled Hey for Honesty, Down with Knavery

ΠλουτοφθαλμίαΠλουτογαμία.A PLEASANT COMEDIE, Entituled HEY FOR HONESTY, DOWN WITH KNAVERY.

out of AriſtophaneshisPlutus,By Tho: Randolph.Augmented and Publiſhed by F.I.

Fabula ſum ſatis ſuperque:

Pauper ſatis & ſuper Poeta.

Printed in the Year 1651.

the Truly Vertuous and Accompliſht Gent.¹The Publiſher of this Comedy wiſheth Health and Happineſſeeverlaſting.

NobleGent.

Itwasthe happineſſe of my ſtarres, to have known you long ago, as thevery Eye of our Garden of England;allwhich both admire and love you: And it is the height of my ambition,to ſalute your hands, that love Honeſty, with the Comedicaladvancement of Honeſty. I am confident, what Aristophanesand his Tranſlatorhave pen- cill’d in this kind, you love to own, though drawn out ina weak Sciography. But you had rather ſee it performed in menslives, then perſonated on the Stage;rather repreſented in action, then acted in ſpeculativerepresentations. I crave your courteous Patronage, ſufficientPanoply even againſt Envy it ſelf. I proſtrate it to yourjudicious Teſt (at vacant houres) to approve of, and of my ſelftoo, who am

Yourhumble Servant

andAdmirer,

F.I.

Preface to the Reader.

Reader,

Thisis a pleaſant Comedy, though some may judge it Satyrical: ’Tis themore like Ariſtophanesthe Father: beſides, if it be biting, ’tis a biting Age we livein; Then biting for biting. Again, TomRandal,the Adopted Sonne of BenIohnſon,being the Tranſlator hereof, followed his Fathers ſteps; They bothof them loved Sack, and harmleſſe Mirth, and here they ſhew it;and I (that know my ſelf) am not averse from it neither. This Ithought good to acquaint thee with. Farewell.

Thine,F. I.

his worthy Friend, F.I.On the ſetting forth of this excellent comedy.

joyn things ſo divided in this Age,
Shews thy rare maſter-pieceof Wit right ſage.
Out of th’ Athenian-Sea to draw itforth,
Commends not only learned skill, but worth.
I meanboth Honestyand Wealth:ſo rare
Do theſe two Planets in Conjunction ſhare
Of onemans breaſt: Their divers Aſpects ſhine
Maligne (likeSaturn)in Sextile or Trine,
To each ingenuous ſoule. I know, ourNation
Would fain obſcure this luminous Conſtellation:
Butthou haſt reſcued it and ſet it free,
In the bright Orb ofIngenuitie.
Go on brave ſoule! let each Heroick ſpirit
Know’tis allied to Riches as by merit.
Vindicate them: whileMuck-worm-minded men
Feel the ſharp dint of thy incenſedPen.
Doom them to Dunghils; and thy potent ſcorn
Not lendthem hoſe to put on head or horn!²

Argument or Subject of the Comedy.

an honeſtdecaied Gentleman, willing to become rich, repaireth to the Oracle ofApolloto enquire how he might compaſſehis deſigne:The Oracle enjoyneth him to follow that man whom he firſtmet with, and never part from his company. The man he met is the oldblind Godof Wealthdisguised. After this, Chremyluscalleth his poor (but honest) Neighbours to partake of hishappineſſe.The honeſtparty rejoyce at the news; Rascals only and vitious perſonsare diſcontented.Plutusis led to the Temple of Eſculapius,by whose art and help he recovereth his eye-ſight.At this Knaves are even mad, they murmure and complain exceedingly.Likewise the GoddeſſePoverty,that aforetime had great power in the Land, complaineth that herſcepteris almost broken to peeces: thereupon she raiſethwars, but is routed; ſhealſois vanquiſhedin diſputationof the neceſsityof Poverty. Knaves again salute Weeping-croſſe,as well as Pennyleſſe-bench.Nay, the Popehimself is even starved. Laſtly,to vexe them more, the Godof Wealthis introduced married to Honesty.

Actors Names. Scene, London.

theGod wealth.

anhoneſt deacayed Gentleman.

hisſervant.

Friendto Chremylus.

Stiffe.

  FourCountry Swains.

SonnetoScrape-all.

Wifeto Chremylus.

Daughterto a Scrivener.

apoor Curate.

arich Parſon.

Goddeſsof Poverty.

Brun.

   Souldiers.

Godof Theft.

anAmſterdam-man.

aSequeſtrator.

Vicar,thePope.

ſervantto Gogle.

ayoung Gallant.

anOld woman.

thePoet.

T.R.

crew of Tinkers,&c.

of Cleon.

for Honeſty, down with Knavery.

i.Scæn. i.

Plutusstumbling on the Stage, after him ChremylusandCarion.

OBonnyIove,and the reſt of the boon gods that dwel in the Tipling-houſe ofOlympus!There be mettals & hard things in the world, but nothing ſo hardas to be bound Prentiſe in Bedlam,and have a Fool to ones Master: my very Livery is faced with hisWorſhips foolery. Our condition is miſerable; for if our Maſtersbut dine at the Ordinary of miſchief, the poore Serving-man is sureto be fed with the ſcraps of misfortune: We muſt ſhare of ourMaſters miſery, we are but Tenants, they will not let us beFreeholders to the petty Lordſhips of our own corpuſculous Fortune;damnable Fortune! how fatally haſt thou ſold the tenure of us, tohim that will pay us our wages! ’Tis very true that I tell you: Andnow ſee the perverſe effects of all. O how I could cuff Apollo!I have a quarrel to Apollo,thatwryleg’d, ridling, fidling god, that ſnorts out Oracles from hisguilded brundlet. They say, this ſame Gaffer Phoebusisa good Mountebanck, and an excellent Muſitian; but a deuſe on him,it does not ſeem ſo, he has ſent my Maſter home ſo ſick ofMelancholy, that I dare ſwear, this ſcurvy TomPiper ofDelphosdid notplay him ſomuch as one fit of mirth, not a lig or Sellengers-round. And now ſeehow he follows a blind Puppy i’ th’ taile, contrary to Law orReaſon:For we that have our eys ſhouldlead, not follow the blind. The very Dog in the Chronicles, that hadhis eyes, stood upon his royal Prerogative, of going before theblinde Beggar of Bednal-green.Nor can he be content to doe it himself, but he muſtmake me too guilty of the ſameignorance. If I but ask him a queſtion,he hath not ſomuch manners as my Granam’s Sow; I cannot get him to grunt me ananswer: yet I cannot chooſebut ſpeak,though my hedge of Teeth were a Quick-ſet,my tongue would through. You ſir,that ſayyou are my Maſter,if you doe not tell me why we follow this blundring guide, be ſure,I will never leave vexing and tormenting you: you ſhalltell me, that you ſhall.

O the Age we live in! Sirra, quinteſſenceof impudence! To what a fine paſſeare you arrived?

Nay’tis e’en ſoSir: Your ſwordand buckler man muſttake the wit upon him for once.

Butif you do not learn your diſtancebetter; look, is not here a Crabtree-Cudgelbeware of weeping-Croſſe.

Maſter, I am priviledg’d: Do you ſee my Feather? ſo long as Iwear this, ’tis Shrove-tueſday with us Prentiſes, perpetualShrove-tueſday.

But if I take off your Feather, then we ſhall have you preſentlycreſt-fal’n, and then my Crabtree Tutor here may read a Lecture ofEthicks to your ſaucy Shoulders.

Why, and if it do ſir; you ſhall finde that I have as valiantShoulders as another man. Come exercise your cudgel: You Maſters arelike Roman Magiſtrates, you have Rods of authority; yet try, ſeewhether you or I will be firſt weary. Come you Trifle, all theCudgels in Christendome, Kent,or New-England,ſhall never make me quiet, till you ſhew me who this is we follow.Why, ſweet-honey, ſugar-cinnamon, delicate Maſter, if I did notwish you well, do you think I would be ſo inquisitive? In dud la youmuſt tell me, and I ſhall be ſatisfied.

Well, I have not the power to conceale thee any longer; for of all myſervants, thou art ſo truſty, true-hearted, faithful and honeſt,that I dare ſwear there is not an arranter theif amongſt ’um.

Now heaven bleſſe your Worship. I have alwayes had your Worshipscommendations, pray IoveI may deserve it! Proceed good Sir.

Well, thus it is: In the dayes of my folly, I was a juſt, preciſe,and honeſt man.

’Twas in the dayes of your folly you were a Preciſian, I my ſelfwas almoſt half a one once, but I am converted.

Well, being honeſt, I was by natural consequence very poor.

Who knew not that? Though I know not what your honeſty was; yet I amſure there is never a gut in my belly but may ſwear for yourpoverty. Nay, and you had no more wit then to be honeſt in this wiſeage, ’twere pitty but you ſhould live and dye a beggar.

But others, ſuch as your demure Cheaters,

That have the true gogle of Amſterdam;

With ſome corrupted Law-gowns, PloydensPupils.

That can plead on both ſides for Fees;

With Round-headed Citizens, and Cuckolds,

Iſir, and Townſmen.

Theſe, Iſay, grew rich the while.

Damnable rich. Faith, master, ſuch miracles have not ceaſed intheſe dayes: Ihave known many in theſe times have grown rich out of a poor eſtate,the devil knows how not I.

Therefore Irepaired to Delphosto ask counsel of Apollo,becauſe Isaw my ſelf almost arrived at Graveſend,to know if Ishould bring up my son suitable to the thriving trades of this age welive in, viz.to be a Sequeſtrator, or Pettifogger, or Informer, or Flatterer, orbelonging to Knights o’th Post, or a Committee-mans. Clark, or ſomeſuch excellent /////,clothing himſelf from top to toe in knavery, without a welt or guardof goodneſſe about him. For Iſee, as the times go now, ſuch thriving education will be thericheſt portion Ican leave him.

ISir, leave but your ſonne, the legacie of Diſhoneſty, and I willwarrant him he ſhall out-thrive all Westminster-Hall,and all—

Toyour demand what did Don Phoebusmutter?

Whatanſwer through his Laurel-garland ſtutter?

You ſhall heare. He bid me in plain terms, whomsoever I first metwithall, him I ſhould follow, and never leave his company till hecame home.

And was this peece of darkneſſe the firſt you met with? Now in myconſcience he was begot at midnight, goodman Midnight,and retains the quality of the ſeaſon. None to meet butBlind-man-buffe,that winks at all faults!

This is the very man.

Troth, and he may tell you your fortune, Gypſie-like, and all out ofyour pockets too; He may ſhew you your destiny: He looks like one ofthe blind whelps of my old Lady Chance.Ha, ha, ha! Maſter, though you be born to lands, Iſee a poor Serving-man may have as large inheritance of wit as aJustice of Peace. Why, and’t pleaſe your Ignorance,any man of brains might eaſily underſtand the Gods meaning: why, hebids you bring up your ſonne to claim the grand Charter of the City,viz.to be as arrant a Knave as his Countrymen. For truly,

Ablind man may ſee, though he never ſee more,

Thatthe way to be honest,is the way to be poore.

The Oracle doth not tend that way; there is ſome greater myſteriein it, if this old Cupidwould but tell us who he is. Come let’s follow him cloſe,perchance we may find out ſome other meaning.

CarionOnother meaning perchance we may pitch.

Thisis the way to be weary, though not to be rich.

 Exeuntambo.

1. Scaen. 2.

Chremylus,Carion.

Maſter, we have run a terrible long wild-gooſe chace after thisblind Beetle: for my part I ſweat every inch of me, one drop fetchesanother. As for my ſhooes, you muſt needs give me a new paire.Their ungodly ſouls are e’en ready to depart, they are giving upthe ghoſt: And yet we walk like the emblem of ſilence; we have notput our blind Gentleman-Uſher to any interrogatories. You ſir,Homerthe ſecond! first I command you in fair terms tell us who you are:if commands will not serve the turn, my cudgel ſhall intreat you.

You were beſt tell us quickly too.

I tell you, the Devil take you.

Do you hear what he ſayes, master? The good old Gentleman bids yourWorſhip good morrow.

He ſpeaks to thee that askt him ſo clowniſhly. Sir, if you likethe behaviour of a civil Gentleman, do me in courteſie the favour asto tell me who you are.

Why, all the Devils in hell, and as many more confound thee too.

Nay, nay, take him to you, maſter: keep your Apollo'sOracle to your ſelf; I have no ſhare in it.

Nowif thou doeſt not tell me, by CeresI will uſe thee like a Villain as thou art.

Good Gentlemen, let me be beholding to you for one infinite favour.

What's that?

Why, to let me be rid of your company.

Maſter, be ruled by a wiser man then your ſelf, for once, andfollow my counſel: Let us take this same old Appius,that has loſt the uſe of his natural ſpectacles, and carry him tothe top of the caſtle-hill, and there leave him to tumble down andbreak his neck ere he come to the bottome.

Let it be quickly then.

I,and then wee’ll leave him to be hanged the next Aſſizes, forbeing a ceſſory to his own death.

Nay, good merciful Gentlemen!

Will you tell us then, you Owle?

You Bird of the Night, will you tell us?

Iwill never tell you: for if you but once know who Iam, ten thousand to one but you will do me ſome miſchief, you willnever let me go.

By heaven we will, if you pleaſe.

Liſt then and give ear: for, as far as Ican see, being blind, Iam constrained to tell what Ithought to have concealed. Iam Plutusthe rich God of wealth: my father was Pinch-backTrue-penny,the rich Uſurer of Islington;my mother, Mrs. Silver-ſide,an Aldermans widow: Iwas born in Golden-Lane,chriſtened at the Mintin the Tower;Banks theConjurer, and oldHobſonthe Carrier were my godfathers.

As ſure as can be, this PlutusGod of wealth is a pure Welſh-man,born with his pedigree in his mouth, he ſpeaks it ſo naturally.I’lelay my life he was begot and bred in the Silver-mine that Middletonfound in Wales.

Thou hadst bin a very Rascal, if thou had’ſt not told us thy namehad been Plutusthe God of wealth.

God of wealth! art thou he? O let me kiſſe thy ſilver-Jolls!

Thouart welcome to me too. But art thou PlutusGod of wealth, and ſo miſerably arrayed! O Phoebus,Apollo,O gods and devils, and Iupiterto boot! Art thou Plutusthe rich ſonne and heire to Pinch-backTrue-penny!

I am he my ſelf.

But art thou ſure that thou thy ſelf art thy ſelf? art thou he?

I am the ſelf-ſame PlutusRich,the ſelf-ſame ſonne and heire to the ſelf-ſame Pinch-backTrue-penny:marry till my eyes are open, I ſhall never be heire apparent.

I, but how cameſt thou ſo miſerable naſty?

Forth from Patrochusden, from Hell at Westminster;conversing with ſome Black ones there, whoſe faces ſince theirbaptisme hath not been waſhed.

And why goeſt thou ſo lamentably poor?

Iupiterenvying the good of miſerable mortals, put me poor ſoul into theſediſmal dumps.

Upon what occaſion, pray thee.

Jle tell you,

the minority of my youthful dayes

took a humour, an ingenious humour,

flee the company of Rogues and Raſeals,

unto honest men betake my ſelf.

spying this (meer out of envy)

out my eye-ſight, that J might not know

from the honest, but to them might go.

Was this from Iove?why none but honeſt men,

Honourhis deity.

Why what of that? this heathen god accepts

Aswell the Pilgrim-ſalve of wicked men,

Asthe religious incense of the honeſt.

Thusdoes the Letcherous god, that hath already

half the world, and plac’d his baſtards

mortals fires, envy vertuous minds.

To leave off verſifying, if thou had’ſt thy eye-ſight,

Would’ſtthou be true to flie from vicious perſons?

I,Iprotest Iwould.

And wholly employ thy eyes to pious uſes.

go to’th’ company of honeſt and ingenuous ſouls.

Onely to them; for Ihave not ſeen

much as one of them this many a day.

Why, what if you have not, you blinde Puppy-dog? What a wonder’sthat? Why, Ithat have as good Eyes as any man I’th’ company, can hardly findemany: They have more wit now a dayes then go abroad openly. Vertue bythat means would become too cheap and common. Iremember, J ſaw one once, but he died young for grief, that he hadnot wit enough to be a Knave; every one laught at him for being outof Faſhion. Had he lived till now, J would h’ſhowed him atFleet-bridgefor a Monster. J ſhould have begger’d the Beginnning’oth’ World;The strange Birds from America,and the Poppetstoo. J would have blown a Trumpet Tarantara, Ifany man or woman in Town or City be affected with strange miracles,let them repair bither.Here within this place is to be ſeen a ſtrange Monſter; A man thathath both his Ears, and but one Tongue;that cannot carry two Facesunder one hood; that has but one couple of Hands, and on each Handfive honeſt Fingers. And what is more ſtrange, he has but oneHeart; who dares, as if he were none of AdamsPosterity, be honeſt at this time ’oth’ year; and will giveevery man his due in ſpight of his teeth.

not this as rare as a Blazing Star to look on?

Well, now you have heard all; pray give me leave to be gone.

Not ſo by Iove;for now we have a greater deſire to ſtay you then ever.

I told you ſo, I thought you would be troubleſome.

Nay, Ibeſeech you leave us not now; for though you ſhould take Diogeneshis Lanthorn and Candle and ſearch from Noon to Night, you could notfinde an honeſter man from the Tropick of Cancerto Capricorn.

Sir, Iwill ſwear and be depos’d for my Maſter, he is as arrant a Canceras any Capricornin Chriſtendom.

Iknow they all promise fair, but when they have once got me, they layaſide their thred-bare honeſty; as if being grown rich, it were adiſparagement to be vertuous any longer.

Yet all men are not knaves.

Yes moſt, if not all, by Iove.

Pray Sir, though you put my Maſter in, let me me be excepted. Bodyof me, call me knave in a crowd! IfIbe not reveng’d, and that ſoundly--- You were beſt take heed ofyour general Rules. Could not you have ſaid (you blind Buſſard)for ought Ican ſee you may be one among the reſt; but to ſpeak it ſoperemptorily?

Nay, if you but knew what you ſhould gain by ſtaying! Mark me, Ican cure thee of thy blindneſſe: Ican do as great miracles as Enſtonwaters.

Truly, as blinde as Iam, Ican ſee when Iam well. Have my eysight restored? Ihope, I shall never live to ſee that day.

What ſayes the man?

He has a natural desire to be wretched, To play at blindman-buff allhis life time. Good Mole,what doſt thou above ground?

No, no, if Iupiterdid but know of this project, he would powder me into a prettypickle.

Heare me man, he cannot ſowſe theeworſe then he has already, tomake thee run stumbling o’re the world: Iwarrant, thy ſhins have cursed him a thouſand times.

Iknow not that, but me thinks my buttocks begin to quake with verythought of him.

Ithink ſo; but what the Devil makes thee so timerous? Iknow if thou ſhouldeſt but recover thy ey-ſight, thou wouldeſtnot value Iupiterscommand at three half pence, but break winde in his face tocounter-thunder him.

Nay, do not tell me so good Wickednesse.

Have but patience, and Iwill plainly demonſtrate that thy Command is greater then anyNubicogIupiters.

Whoſe? mine? Am Iſuch a man, ſo powerfull?

Itho, if thou hadſt but wit and eyes enough to ſee it; for first, Iask you what does Iupiterreign by?

Why, by that which he rained into Dana’slap, a ſhowre of ſilver.

And who lent him that ſilver?

Why, who but Plutus;and yet the beggerly Iovepayes him no Uſe nor Principal: Well Iupiter,we ſhall have Plutuslodge you in Ludgateſhortly, to take up your Shop, and make your thunder-bolts there,and cry lamentably, Forthe Lords ſake, Bread, Bread for the poore Prisoners;unleſſe you can morgage the golden or silver Age to give betterſecurity to your Creditour.

Ask, why do men sacrifice to Iove,if not for Silver?

By heaven, for Silver. No penny, no Pater-noſter, quoth the Pope.Does good-man Iupiterthink we’ll pray, to wear out our Stockings at knees for nothing?

No,of all prayers, this is the reſult,

Iovemake me rich,or pray quicunquevult.

Is not Plutusthen the Author of grand ſacrifices? where would the Directory lie,if it were not for the new Act of the Prieſts maintenance? Nay, ifwe were to ſacrifice a Bull or Ram, do you think the Butcher wouldgive it to the god for nothing? No, no, if Plutusshould not purchase devotion with his coyn, the OlympianKitchin would ſmel of nothing but Lent and Faſting-dayes all theyear after.

Why, I pray, may I put Iupiterout of Commons when I pleaſe?

May you? I marry may you. Doeſt not thou maintain him? He lives atthy charges. Iupiterhad not beſt anger thee, lest thou take an opinion and ſtarve him.

Say you ſo? Is it by my courteſie they ſacrifice to Iove?

Yes, altogether; for whom is he honored by?

By reverend Prieſts.

And doſt thou think the Levitical men would not disband, if therewere want of pay or Tithes? It is most certain, money is theCatholick Empreſſe of the world, her commands are obey’d fromSpainto the Indies.

’Tis true Maſter, had I been rich (But Icurse my Stars, Iwas born under the three-penny Planet, never to be worth a groat) Iſhould have ſcorn’d the degree of Sword and Buckler; but now fora little ſilver and a thred-bare Livery, Ihave ſold the Fee-ſimple of my ſelf and my liberty, to anyworſhipfull peece of folly that will undertake me.

Ihave heard your Gentilizians, your dainty Curtezana’s, in plainEngliſh, your arrant Whores of Venice,ſuch as are ready ſtew’d for any mans appetite: if a poor mandeſire to ſin a little, they preſently ſit croſſe-leg’d; butif a rich man tempt them, at the ſound of his Silver they cannothold their water. Why, the Whores of Pict-hatch,Turnbull,or the unmercifull Bawds of Bloomsbury,under the degree of Plutus,will not let a man be acquainted with the ſins of the Suburbs. ThePox is not ſo cheap as to be given gratis:The unconſcionable Queans have not ſo much charity left as to letyou damn your ſelves for nothing.

’Tis very true that my Maſter tels you: For Plutarchreports in the life and death of BeſſeBrouhton,thatshe never unbutton’d to any of the guard for nothing.

But you may think this is spoken only of bad men, ſuch as haveproſtituted their ſouls to the world; As for good Round—they deſire not money, no good ſouls not they.

What then J pray?

Why, this wiſhes for a good Trooping horſe; that, for a fleet packof Hounds.

J, when they are aſhamed to ask money in plain terms, they vailtheir avarice under ſome ſuch mask or other: but he that wiſhesfor a Horſe, makes ſilver the intent of his journey; and they thatbeg for Hounds, ’tis money they hunt for.

All Arts and Crafts ’mongst men were by thee invented. I, and theſeven Sciences (but for thee) they could never have been ſoliberal.

O horſe that I was, never to know my own ſtrength till now!

’Tis this that makes great Philipof Spainso proud.

Without thee (Plutus)the Lawyer would not go to Londonon any Terms.

All the Generals, Hoptonand Montross,are by thee maintained: ’Troth, all the Troopers or Foot-menwithout thee would never be contented with free-quarter onely, theremust come Taxes, Contributions and Exciſe to boot.

not WillSummersbreak his wind for thee?

Shakeſpearetherefore writ his Comedy?

things acknowledge thy vaſt power divine,

God of Money) whoſe moſt powerfull ſhine

motion, life; Day rises from thy ſight.

ſetting, though at noon, makes night.

catholick cauſe of what we feel or ſee,

in this All are but th’ effects of thee.

O heavens! can I do all theſe things you talk of? Ill tide thiswretched blindeneſſe of mine, that would never let me ſee whatCommand or Power I had: All the world for a pair of Eys and aLooking-glaſſe! Sure now the Delphiangate and J have good wits: for we jumpt together in this opinion,that it is an excellent thing for a man to know himself: J ſhalllove a Noſceteipſumas long as J live for this trick. Can J doe all theſe things?

All theſe? J by heaven canſt thou, and millions more then theſe.Why there was never any man weary of thy company (O god of wealth)Thou art a welcome gueſt where ere thou comeſt. There is plenty ofall things: Plenty of Love.

And plenty of White-bread and Butter.

Plenty of Honour.

And plenty of Cheeſe-cakes.

Plenty of Friends.

And plenty of Bag-puddings.

Plenty of Servants.

And plenty of Furmenty.

Plenty of Health.

And plenty of Cuſtards.

Plenty of Command.

And plenty of Peaſe-porredge.

Never any man has enough of thee. If he can change a Groat, yet hedeſpairs of a Bed till he can get a Teſter. Then he procures a fullJury of pence to be empannell’d for the finding out of a Shilling.That done, the ambitious Niggard will fain uſurp a Crown, which muſtbe made a Noble one: And that is never ſafe, till it have a goodAngel to guard it. All this obtain’d, he cannot without a Mark bereckoned a man of notice: Nor has he a patch of a Gentleman, till hebe worth a Peece.

The good old Gentleman thinks he has jested all this while handſomegrave gray-pated quiblets. Good heaven, what pretty things theſewits are, when they are out of date!

When the Purſe is full, the Pouch gapes; and when the Pouch hath hisbellyfull, the great Cheſt yawns-wide enough to ſwallow the Indies,and Goldsmiths-Hall,and the Devil to boot; and yet when all is done, they thinkthemſelves as poor as Irus,if their eſtates do not out-value Doomſday-book.

You ſay true, Sir: yet methinks I am afraid of one thing.

What is that?

That Iſhall never attain to that utopiayou ſpeak of, ’tis a country ſo hard to conquor; Caſtles in theaire are very impregnable.

Sir, upon my word, let not that trouble you: Do your endeavour, andi’le warrant you ſhall see as perfectly as any Lynceusin Chriſtendome.

Then Lynceus!what was he?

One that could ſee the very motes in the ſun, and the leaſt thingsin the world.

Ican see the leaſt in the world already, Ithank you for nothing: Ican ſee leſſe then any Lynceusliving. But how canſt thou, poor mortal worm, take off theſequeſtration of my eye-ſight, and reſtore me to perfect ſeeingagain?

Do not doubt it; For thy delinquent Eyes

Shallbe admitted to compound, and ſee moſt perfectly.

Beof good hope: the Delphian god hath ſworne,

Andtherewithall brandiſh’d his Pythian Lawrel,

ThatPlutusſhould out-look the ſtarres to blindneſſe.

Ha, ha, ha! How does he know ſo much? Inever was acquainted with that ſame Apolloin my life. Iremember Ihave been foxt at his Oracleat Temple-bar.Iam afraid this Apollois one of your fellow- Juglers.

Cannot a man perswade you? have not Isaid it?

Well then, do you look to it.

So we had need, for you cannot your ſelf.

Take you no care, I will do it though Idie to morrow before breakfaſt.

Marry and that were a miſerable thing to go to the grave upon afaſting ſtomack. Pray maſter, when you take in hand the cure ofPlutushis eyes, let poor Caryonhave a finger in it.

A finger in it! That were the way to put out his eyes.

’Tis ſtrange, maſter, you ſhould have no more underſtanding: mymeaning was, you would accept of my help, (good Mr. Chremylus.)

Well ſirrah, we will; and ſome other fellow-partners too, some ofour plundered neighbours that are enjoyned for penance to faſt fourdayes a week, for having ſurfeited on too much honeſty.

Marryheaven forbid, I ſhall be ill holp up with ſuch miſerable helpersas they: the hungry Raſcals will go neer to devoure me quick likeIriſh canibals. No, let me be blind ſtill, that my eyes may neverbe conſcious to the plundring of my fleſh & bones in peeces.’Twere a miſerable ſpectacle for them to begin with.

I warrant, you need not fear that: if they once grow rich, they’llrather feed on Roſt-beef and Marrow-bone pyes, like Committee men,then coſen the worms of ſo lean a carcaſſe. Sirra Carion,where be your couple of Footmen?

Here maſter, what ſhould I do?

Run and call my honeſt poor neighbours, you ſhall find themiſerable drudges tugging at the Plough-taile for their Landlords.No, now I think on’t, the Exciſe-men came to day and fetcht themaway for contribution. Go to them, you know the way to the Officeneer Cuckolds-Pound, London.Tell them in their eares, that we have Plutusat home, and will ſhare him amongſt us: we’ll divide him intoſeverall meſſes, and each man take his part by ſeniority. Butſtay, do you heare: beware of Knaves, and of Veale.

Veale it ſeems is not ſo good. But what ſhall I do with this Legof Mutton here? I dare not venture the ſafety of it amongſt ’um;the villains carry dangerous teeth about ’um.

Wee'll take care for that: meet me at home two houres hence.  

Chremylus

O what a plot are we going about! I could laugh for joy.

may I forſake my dump,

beſtir my hob-nail’d ſtump,

about and risk and jump:

men are turn’d up trump,

ſhall find them in a lump,

every Knaue muſt have a Thump.

what a plot is this, to blow up all the knaves in a kingdom together,nay in all the world, put in Turks, Jewes, Pagans and Jnfidels! Why,Catesbyand Percywerepunies, Garnetand Digbyand Faux,if they had gone about such an honeſt Gun-powder treaſon as this,they had never had their heads upon poles a Daw-catching over theParliament-Houſe. Well, they were hang’d for knaves and fools; butwe ſhall thrive, and be wiſe and worſhipful, and honest too, forCarion’sa man in the plot.

Thisis a ſtratagem was never ſuch,

honeſt men alone now ſhould be rich.

Thathoneſt men ſhould thrive by right, not wrong.

London,take heed; for thoul’t be poor ere long.

Carion.

1. Scaen. 3.

Scrape-alla Farmer,and Dull-patehis ſonne.

J live at Iſlington,andJ have heard

is come to Weſtminster:Sure, ſure,

take it ill if J forbeare to viſit him,

knows J am his kinſman:

J was kin to Pinch-backTrue-penny

Father, who did live at Iſlington,

Uſurer almost next door to me.

opportunely here he comes, J ſee.

ſave you ſir! your poor kinſman ſalutes you.

Who’s this? my eye-ſight fails me;

your name?

Scrape-all your kinſman, lives at Islington

O J remember; are you honeſt now?

have a humour to love honeſt men.

The Country thinks ſo, J’m converted lately:

my ſon is alſo here come with me.

Of what profeſſion is he?

A Parſon verily.

What would he have?

A Benefice, two or three,

like your Worship.

He’sa true Scrape-all, of the Scrapeallsblood;

TrueDull-pateScrape-all,He hath paſt the Synod.

O, has he ſo! J thought to have ſent him thither.

have few Livings left now to beſtow.

golden Prebends which J had at Pauls,

know are ſunk ith duſt: For other places

beſt the Synod has ’um. Yet your ſonne

J know he cannot want preferment,

looks ſo learnedly, and goes in black too.

may change habits, ’tis allow’d of now

the world goes. Is he not a Tradesman?

thrive the better, if he can ſnuffle handsomly.

he ever train’d up at the Univerſities?

Yes out of both; that is, never of either.

Howeverhe will be rich. Let him leap over

Steeple-houſes, and teach in private;

vails will be the fatter: Tythes and Cures

muſt preach down as Antichriſtian,

take as much as both. He has an excellent name,

thriving name! I think you ſaid ’twas Dulpate.

Yes Sir. Now thank your Patron, and be gone.

Thankatus& Godamerciatus veſter dignitas.  

Dulp.

He gives your Worſhip thanks and god-a-mercy.

I have no skill in Phyſiognomie:

ſure thou wilt be rich, Dulpate,&wealthy.

Unkle, we thank you: will it pleaſe you know

entertainment of our poor cottage?

No, it is againſt the complexion of my humour

viſit any mans houſe: I never got

commodity by it in my life.

if I chance to light into the clutches

ſome vile Uſurer, he buries me

under ground, or keeps me priſoner cloſely

his old Cheſts, where without ſheets I lie,

his Indentures keep me company.

if J fall into the prodigal hands

some mad roaring Tytiretu, heſpends me

his lecherous Cocatrice; or playing

me away at paſſage: So am J turn’d

naked out of doors, with not ſo much

a poor Purſe to make a Night-cap of.

Jt ſeems you never met with moderate men.

this is my diſpoſition: when occaſion

no man more liberal: when opportunity

no man more thrifty.

let’s go in. O how my wife ſhall joy

ſight of thee, aſmuch as for a French Hood

Taffata Kirtle! Thou art my beſt beloved.

J eaſily believe it.

Who would not tell thee

truth of things, J wiſh that he were louzy

rogue)at Beggers-buſh,or else confin’d

the perpetual regiment of Bridewell.

my dear Unkle, come! O how J love

ſilver-hairs of thy moſt delicate chin!

J be rich by wickedneſſe and ſin.

ambo.

Actus primi.

2. Scæn. i.

Carion, Clodpole, Lackland andStiffe, 3 Rusticks.

Come along you old Hobnails. J’le have your horſes ſhod with goldof Ophiror Peru.Ha, you old Muck-worms! J’le make your Hog-trough paunches ſo fat,that the leaneſt of you all ſhall out-weigh the Archbiſhop ofSpalato.What an Eſopical roaring Lion am J, to lead this army of Aſſesinto the field! Come, my maſters, old friends, you that have eatmany a buſhel of ſalt, J would ſay garlick in his coompany. Makehaſte you Plough-lacquies, Boorshis kinſmen. You neighbour Lackland,ſet the beſt foot forward. And you goodman Clodpole,old Snaile with a ſlimy noſe, if you make not haſte, they willhave done ſcrambling ere we come.

Now by the rood of my Granam’s ſoul, J’ch go as vaſt as myleggs will beare me. What would you have of an old man, that’sgrown crazy?

Crazy!

J, crazy. Do you think a man that has one voot in the grave cantrudge as vaſt as zuch a young knave as thou? When J was a ſtriplingof thy age, J could have trickt it ivaith, Mr. Ficar knowes, with thebeſt of the Pariſh.

Neighbour, neighbour, J'le tell you what I do deviſe you now, thisis my pinion.

Your pinion, you gooſe? and what is your pinion?

Marry this is my pinion now: This saucy knave may do it to uflout us.’Tis beſt to command of him what is his maſters contention inzending vor us now la.

Why have not I told you? My maſter zends for you to change thisnaſty condition of yours into ſome delicate happineſſe. You ſhallbe rich, you Rogues, all of you Justices of Peaces, Lords, Emperors,or what is more, High-Conſtables.

Very well ſaid. But Iwill be none of his Peaces nor Lords; let me be a High-Conſtable. Iwill have a new v^flaileas zoon as I come to my honours, and thou ſhalt be next to exzeed mein my houſe-of-Office.

I, but neighbours, how ſhall this be defected? Let him diſſolve usof that now, it ſeems not poſſetible, ſo it does not.

Why you Villiago’s, my maſter has brought home an old lame,rotten, mangy, toothleſſe, ſapleſſe, bald-pate, ruſty muſtycruſty fuſty duſty old Dotard, juſt ſuch another as my neighbourStiffeor Lackland,or you Clodpolewith a ſlimy noſe, with a great bunch-back.

A bunch-back! Nay then thou art a meszenger of gold. Hah neighbours,that was not a bunch-back, I warrant you la, they were huge bags ofgold. That’s another pinion of mine, neighbours, what do youjecture in that?

You jecture like an aſſe: That bunch at his back was but a naturalbudget of old miſchiefs.

Do not think to play the Jack-anapes with me for nothing. Have I nothere a good cudgel? if thou do, thou ſhalt be clapper-de-claw’d.

Iwonder what you take me for: what diſhoneſty did you ever know byme?

Diſhoneſty, zay you! None, not we. ’Tis a very honest Monky: YetI have zeen him, neighbours, zit in Bridewell,when the loving vetters have been cloſe friends to his legs.

Very true; at the same time you were one of the Justices of hell,Radamanthushad newly reſigned his office to you.

Now the murrain founder thee, thou parlous wag, thus to ’buse thybetters! Sirra, look you deveal unto us why your maſter hath vitedus from our natural poccupations.

Prick up your ears then, and I will tell you. My maſter hath broughthome Plutusto enrich you all. Thou ſhalt be Maior of the City; canſt not thouſleep on the Bench? Thou ſhalt be Baily; haſt not thou wit enoughto tell clocks? And all the reſt of your frozen-bearded Neighbours,underſtanding Aldermen.

Nay zo they be Aldermen, ’tis no matter vor Underſtanding: ’tisa beggerly quality vit for none but poor Schollers and Loſophers.But has thy master got Plutus,and ſhall we all be rich in good zooth, Carion?

I in zooth neighbour Lackland,as rich as Midas,if you had but aſſes ears.

Nay, vor if that be all, I ſhall do well enough I warrant you, mineare of a pretty length already: it does me good at the heartneighbours, zo it does.

Vaith would Mr. Clip-latineour Ficar were here too. He’s an honeſt man, he readsCommon-prayer, we can vollow him and underſtand him; He will notmeddle with Diricks-ſtories nor Extrumperies. He has but poor twantyNobles a year, think of it Neighbours.

Vaith and thou ſaieſt right neighbour Stiffe,and he gives us good deſtructions once a moneth, as good as aNomine.

I, and Ilike him: He's none of the Hum-drums, he’ll clap it up quickly,eſpecially if there be a match at the Alehouſe.

Maſſe, and he’ll drink Sack and Claret as faſt as any Synod man.

I, neighbours, and he's none of them that be proud; he will not ſcornto drink with his poor neighbours too: if Plutuswould give him twice twanty Nobles, I would not think it too much.

I warrant, our Propriator would hang himſelf vo^rehe would allow it.

Tisno matter, we’ll tition Plutusour ſelves vor him.

Nay neighbours, and lets tell him he’ll curſten and bury after theold way. I warrant, when Mr. Clip-latin’sgone, we ſhall never have ſuch a man again to fit the pariſh.Every one loves him, but Never-goodthe Sequestrator, that—

When Plutuscomes, we’ll think of him. Vaith neighbours, ſhall we be rich?What will my neighbour Rent-alldo? He’ll get him a Satten-doublet, and ſcorn his proud Landlord:And Steal-allthe Tailor and Noysethe Ballad-singer will ride about in Coaches, and all the rest of umtoo.

ſhall we have Plutus!ſhall we be rich! I ſhall e’en throw away my leather-slops &my pitchforks. O it joyces my heart! Neighbours, it is as good newsas a pot of ale and a toſt in a vroſty morning.

Icould give a penny for a May-pole to dance the morris vor arrant joy.Shall we be rich ivaith!

Nowwill Iwith the Cyclopsſing, Threttanelo,Threttanelo.

Polyphemusearſt did ring,

the tune of Fortune my foe.

Threttanelo, Threttanelo:

ſing we all merrily, Threttanelo, Threttanelo.

Bleat you like Ewes the while.

Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba.

Like frisking Kids full merrily go, Threttanelo, Threttanelo.

And sing we all—

Dance out your coats like lecherous goats, Threttanelo, Threttanelo!

And sing we all—

Let us this Cyclopsſeek:

the place where he ſleeps let us go, Threttanelo.

Put out as he lies

a Cowl-ſtaffe his eyes, Threttanelo.

And ſing we all merrily,

sing we all—

But now you ſhall ſee

Circewill be,

turn you to hogs ere I go, Threttanelo.

grunt you all now

your mother the Sow, Threttanelo.

And ſing we all---

ſing we all---

But come you Pig-hogs, let us leave jeſting. I reſtore you to yourold Metamorphoſis,as you may ſee in the firſt leaf of VirgilsBucolicks. I will go the next way to the Cup-board, and fill my gutslike an Emperor. And then if you have any thing to maund me on a fullſtomack, you may ply me in what you pleaſe.

Muſick.  Exeuntomnes.

2. Scaen. 2.

Chremylusand Stiffe,Clodpole, Lackland.

Honeſt neighbours, welcome: I will not bid you good morrow now. Thatwas my ſalutation in the dayes of poverty: that ſtinking complementnever fitted my mouth, but when my breath ſmelt of onions andgarlick. Gramercy old blades, for coming. Let me hug you. Oh what asweet armful of friends is here! If you be but valiant now, anddefend Plutus,the least of you all ſhall have wealth enough to confrontPrester-Iohn,and the Grand Signior too.

Jf that be all, my life for yours. Valiant! Why Marshimself was an arrent coward to me; Ihave beat him at voot-ball above twenty times. Jf you did but zee meonce, J warrant you would call me goodman Hectoras long as Ilived for’t. Did you not zee how J cuffe with Herculesfor a two-peny loaf laſt Curmaſſe? Let Plutusgo! No, let me return again to Onyons and Peaſe-porredge then, andnever be acquainted with the happineſſe of a Surloyn of roſt-beef.

Well neighbours, march in. J ſee Blepſidemuscoming toward. He has heard of my good fortune, that makes him footit ſo faſt. Jn the dayes of my poverty all my friends went oncrutches; they would come to me as faſt as black Snails: but nowthey can outrun Dromedaries. This ’tis to be rich and Now I have arich Load-ſtone lyeth under my Threſhold that draws in all theirIron Spurs.

that will have his friends about him tuck,

have th’ alluring bait of golden muck.

omnes.

2. Scæn. 3.

Blepſidemus,Chremylus.

What ſhould this be? or by what means? ’tis ſtrange

my friend Cremylusis grown ſo rich;

ſcarce belive’t, becauſe I know him honeſt,

every Barbers ſhop reports it boldly.

very ſtrange he ſhould grow rich ’oth’ ſudden.

then ’tis ſtranger far, that being grown wealthy,

cals his poor friends to be part’ners with him;

am sure, ’tis not the courteſie of England.

Friend Blepſidemus,welcome; I am not the ſame beggerly ChremylusI was yeſterday. Be merry, true-blew, be merry; thou art one of myfriends too, I’le put you all into a humor of thriving.

Are you ſo wealthy ſir, as report ſpeaks?

Sowealthy? ha, ſoft and fair. Cozen Blepſidemus,J shall be anon:

of great conſequence have ſome danger in them.

Danger? What danger?

Why,J’le tell thee all. Jf we bring this buſines to paſſe, we ſhallbe brave blades, be drunk with Sack and Claret every day; gluttedwith roaſt Beef, Paſties and Marry-bone-pies: but if our hopes befruſtrate, we are undone, we muſt to Leeks and Onions again.

All is not right, J fear, J do not like it,

ſuddenly to thrive, and thus to fear;

me ſuſpect my judgement and his honeſty.

What honeſty?

Jf those your ſacrilegious hands have plundered

Temple, and enrich’t your Coffers

Gold and Silver, raviſh’t from the Altars.

you repent, yet do not mock your friends:

you have invited all your neighbours

hear you make a learned Confeſſion;

ſhake hands from the Ladder, and take leave

their dear Chremylusat the fatal Tree:

you ſhall pardon me, I’menot in the humour,

take a walk toward Paddingtonto day.

Marry heavens forbid! there’s no ſuch cauſe nor matter.

Nay, trifle now no longer: ’tis too manifeſt.

You do me wrong, thus to ſuſpect a friend.

’ForeIove,J think there's not an honeſt man,

droſſie earthy muck-worm-minded Vaſſals,

theſe full ſoon morgage their Souls for Silver:

image for the States—

By heaven I think thou art mad. Do thy naked brains want clothing,Blepſidemus?for J ſee thy wit is gone a wool-gathering.

J see Chremylusis not Chremylus,for me thinks

hath loſt his honeſty hath loſt himſelf.

As ſure as can be, ſome gib’d Cat that died iſſueleſſe, hasadopted thee for her Heire, and bequeathed the legacy of hermelancholy to thee. Jt is impoſſible thou ſhould’ſt be ſo madelſe.

Thy countenance ſo oft changing, and thy eyes

gogling, call thee guilty Chremylus,

a diſhoneſt jugling ſoul.

Nay, good Raven, do not croak ſo. J know what your croaking tendsto. Now if J had ſtoln any thing, you and the Devill would have putin for a ſhare.

Do I do this to claim my ſhare, what ſhare?

Come there is no ſuch matter my fingers have not learn’d theſleight of hand. Picking and ſtealing is none of their profeſſion.

O ’tis some learned diſtinction; What, you'l ſay

did not ſteal, you did but take’t away;

’tis not good to equivocate with a Halter,

is a cunning Diſputant:

argument of Hemp is hardly anſwered.

What melancholy Devil has poſſeſt thee? J am sure it is no merryone. This madneſſe doth not smel of Edmonton.

Whom have you plunder’d then? whoſe Bung is nipt.

No mans.

O Hercules!Whose tongue ſpeaks truth?

what cold Zone dwels naked honesty?

I see, friend, you condemn me e’re you know the truth.

Come, do not jeſt your neck into the Nooſe,

me betimes, that with the Key of Gold

may lock up the Vermin's mouth. Informers

dangerous cattle, if they once but yawn;

bad as Sequeſtrators, but I’le undertake.

I will not have you undertake any thing for me; you will be at toomuch charges: Sir, my intent is to enrich all honeſt men.

Why, have you ſtoln ſo much?

No faith, a little will serve the turn, there are so few of them. Butſirra, know J have Plutushimſelf at home.

Who, Plutus?God of wealth.

The ſame, by heaven and hell.

What, heaven and hell by Weſtminſter-hall,where Lawyers and Parliament men eat French-broth? Have you Plutus,by Veſta?

Yes and by Neptunetoo.

What Neptune?Neptuneof the Sea?

ByNeptuneof the Sea, or any other Neptunein Europe.He is the ſmal-leg’d Gentleman-Ushers god; for his Chariot isdrawn with Calves.

Why do you not send him about among your friends?

What, before he have recovered his ey-ſight?

Why, is Plutusblinde?

By Ioveis he.

Nay, J did alwayes think ſo; and that’s the reaſon he could neverfinde the way to my houſe.

But now he ſhall at a ſhort-hand.

What, Brachygraphy? ThomasSheltons Art?

No, I mean ſuddenly.

He ſhall be welcome: But why do you not get ſome ſkilfull Oculistfor him? Have you never a Chyrurgion about the town that hath Eyes toſell of his own making?

Now the Spittle-house on the Puck-fiſt tribe of them. Ifa man have but a cut Finger, the Cure of it ſhall be as long as theSiege of Breda:Physitians and Surgeons are good for nothing but to fill Graves andHoſpitals.

Sure then, that's the reaſon none but Sextons pray for them.

No, i'le have a better device; he ſhall go to the Temple ofEsculapius.

Come let us make haſte, To be rich as ſoon as we can. Divesqui fieri vult, Et cito vult fieri—

We will get a Fierifaciasof the Lawyers. They pick all the wealth out of the Country-menspockets. Have but patience, J will warrant thee as Rich as anyAlderman.

to Ex.

2. Scaen. 4.

Peniaand meets them.

Muſt J needs meet you, you old Dotards? Are you not aſhamed of yourgray Coxcombes? you are going about a fine piece of impudence, toundoe me and all my children. But J ſhall plague you for it.

Now Herculesand his club defend me!

J’le cut your throats, and ſlit your impudent gurgulio’s, youCalves at three-ſcore: How dare you undertake ſuch confederacy? butyou ſhall throttle for’, by all the aſh-colour’d cattle aboutme.

What creature is this with the Redoker face? She looks as if ſhewere begot by Marking-ſtones.

By ſtones ſure: tis some Erynnisthat is broke looſe from the Tragedy.

By Ieronymo,her looks are as terrible as DonAndraea,or the Ghost in Hamlet.

Nay, ’tis rather one of Belzebub’s Heralds.

Why ſo?

Why, doeſt thou not ſee how many ſeveral Coats are quartered inher Arms?

So, ſo; and who do you think Iam?

Some Bawd of Shoreditch,or TurnbulBroker of Maidenheads,&c.

Why woman, why doſt thou follow us? we have done thee no wrong.

No, good honeſt Scavengers, no wrong! By the skin betwixt myeye-browes, but Ile make you know ’tis a wrong. Isit no wrong to caſt me out of every place, and leave me no where tobe in?

Yes, thou ſhalt have the liberty of Hell, and all good kindneſſesthe honeſt Devils can do thee, for my ſake. But what art thou? whydoſt not thou tell us who thou art?

One that will be ſoundly revenged on you all, for committing morethen gun-powder treaſon againſt a poor woman, that hath not ſomuch as a tooth in her head that means you any harm.

We will not truſt ſo much as thy gums for all that. Who art thou?

I am Poverty, PeniaPoverty,eldeſt daughter of AsotusSpend-all,of Brecknock-ſhire;One that hath kept houſe with you this thirty years and upwards; Ihave ſate winter and summer at your Great-grandfathers table.

O Apolloand the reſt of the Spittle-houſe gods! tell me how I may run away.

Nay, stay you cowardly drone.

Stay! no not for the world, Iwill not keep Poverty company; there be vormine about her which Iwould be loth ſhould coſen the worms of my carkaſſe.

Dare you grunt, you unethical Ruſticks, being taken in the fact?

Stay Coward, shall two men run away from one woman?

One woman! I, but ’tis Poverty; PeniaPoverty, or PeniaPennyleſſe.

Tyger ſo cruel: Ihad rather fight with MallCutpurseand my Lady Sandsboth together at quarter-ſtaffe.

Good Blepſidemusſtay.

Good Chremylusrun away.

Shall we leave Plutusthus?

How shall we resist this warlike Amazon, the valianteſt of allTinkers truls and doxies! She has made me pawn my Bilbo-blade andruſty Head-piece at the Alehouſe many a time in arrant policy. Letus run; there is no hope of ſafety but in foot-manship. Our valouris clean contrary to Achilles,for our greateſt ſecurity lies in our heels.Let us run: Stone-wallsare not defence enough, her hunger will break through and devoure us.

Take thy Porredge-pot (man) for a Helmet, thy Ladle for a Spear, anda Sword of Bacon, and thou art arm’d against Poverty cap-a-pe: Andthen Plutusshall come and cut her throat, and raiſe a trophy out of hermiſerable carkaſſe.

Dare you snarl, you Currs, after the contriving such damnable injury?

What injury, you old Beldame! We have not raviſht thee, I am ſure;thy beauty is not ſo much moving.Doeſt think we mean to lie withRed-Oker! to commit fornication with a Red-Lattice! I know not whatthy lower parts can do; but thy very Fore-head is able to burn us.Let thy Salamander-Nose and Lips live in perpetual flames, for me;Ioveſend thee everlasting fire! There is no Cupidin thy complexion: a man may look upon thee, without giving the fleſhoccaſion to tempt the ſpirit: if all were made of the ſame claythou art, Adultery would be a ſtranger in England.

O immortal gods, is it no injury to restore Plutusto his eye-ſight! Now Furies put out all your eyes, and then conſumeall the dogs in Chriſtendome, that there may be none to lead you!

What harm is it to you, if we ſtudy the catholike good of allmankind?

What catholike good of mankind? I’m ſure the Roman catholikereligion commands wilfull poverty.

That is because Plutusis blind: his blindneſſe is the cauſe of that devotion. But whenPlutuscan ſee again, we will kick you out of the Univerſe, and leave youno place but the Univerſities: marry thoſe you may claim bycuſtome, ’tis your pennyleſſe bench; we give you leave toconverſe with ſleeveleſsGowns and thred-bare Caſſocks.

But what if J perſwade you its necessary that Poverty live amongſtyou?

Perſwaded! we will not be perſwaded; for we are perſwaded not tobe perſwaded, though we be perſwaded. Thus we are perſwaded; andwe will not be perſwaded to perſwade our ſelves to the contrary,any wayes being perſwaded.

If J do not, do what you will with me; leave me no place to reſt in,but the empty Study of that pittiful Poet, that hath botcht up thispoor Comedy with ſo many patches of his ragged wit, as if he meantto make Poverty a Coat of it.

ΩTumpana, kai Cophonas!Jack Dolophin and his Kettle-drum defend us.

But if you be convicted and nonpluſt, what puniſhment will youſubmit your ſelf unto?

To any.

Ten deaths: other Cats have but nine, Grⁱm^alkinher ſelf. Let us be ſure Povery die outright, Ibegin to be bowſie in her company. Let’s march.

ambo.

Yet Ithank IoveIam better acquainted in City and Country, then theſe think of. Inthe City many that go in gay-clothes know me; in the Country Iam known for Taxes, Exciſe and Contributions: beſides Ihave an army royal of Royaliſts, that now live under theSequeſtration-Planet, J ſhall muſter them up if need be. But firſtIwill go marſhal up my Forlorn-hopes of Tatterde-mallians, welch,English,Scots,and Irish.J hope to give these Round—a breakfaſt, all they vapour now; Ihope to bring ’um under my dominion ſhortly.

Penia.

2. Scaen. 5.

Scrape-all,Clodpole, Stiffe, Dicaeus,andPoverty.

Naighbours, I'chhear we muſt chop Logick with Poverty;’cha wonder what this Logicking is, tid never know yet te yeer:they zay one gaffer Aristotlewas the first vounder of it, A bots on him!

Cha remember my zon went to the Varſity, and I ha heard him say afine ſong: Hang Brerwoodand Carterin Crakanthorpsgarter,

K^ekermantoo bemoan us:

be no more beaten for greaſie IackSeaton,

conning of Sanderſonus.

Oxfordor Cambridge’twouldmake a man a hungry to heare ’um talk of Giſmes and Argations, andPretticables and Predicaments, and gatur Antecedens and Proiums andPoſtriorums, and Probo’s and Valleris. Cha think this Logick ahard thing next to the Black-Art.

Naighbours, an’t be zo, what a murrin ails us! why, ſhall weventure Plutuson Pretticables and Predicarments? ſhall we loſe all our hopes byan Argovalleris?This is my pinion, this ſame Povertywill prove the beſt Computant of um all: why, ſhe cannot chooſebut repute (as Mr. Ficar sayes) very well, and moſt tregorically.

Tregorically! Categorically neighbour; Sir Iohnmeant ſo Iwarrant you.

Why, tregorically, and catergolically; Treand Cater,there’s but an ace difference, therefore bate me an ace quothBolton,and I ſay ſhe will repute very well and tregorically, for ſhe hathever kept company with Scholars ever ſince my memory or my Granamseither. No, let me take my Catergorical Flail in hand; and if J donot threſh her to death with luſty arguments, let me never live toproblem again at a Peaſerick.

Naighbours, be content. Povertyſtand you on one ſide, and I’le, ſtand on the other; for I willbe oppoſite to you ediametro,and teach you to know your diſtance. Thus I diſpute. The queſtionis, Whether Plutusought to receive his eye-ſight? I ſay I,& ſic probo.

it be fit that good and honeſt men,

ſouls are fraught with vertue, ſhould poſſeſſe

and wealth, which Heaven did mean ſhould be

just reward of goodneſſe: while proud Vice,

of her borrowed and uſurped robes,

have her loathed deformities unmaſqued;

vitious men that ſpread their Peacocks trains,

carkaſſes as naked as their ſouls.

if once Plutusſhould receive his eyes,

but diſcern ’twixt men, the world were chang’d:

goodneſſe and full coffers, wealth and honeſty

meet, imbrace, and thrive, and kiſſe together;

vice with all her partners ſtarves and pines,

to dirt and filth, leaving to hell

ſouls. Who better counſel can deviſe?

’tisfit Plutusreceive his eyes.

That Argohas netled her, I warrant. Thou ſhalt be Plutushis Profeſſor for this. What has my she-Bellarminenow to anſwer?

As the mad world goes now, who could believe

pur-blind fate and chance did hold the ſcepter

humane actions? Who beholds the miſeries

honeſt mortals, and compares their fortunes

the unſatiable pleaſures of groſſe Epicures,

burſten bags are glutted with the ſpoiles

wretched Orphans: who (I ſay) ſees this,

would almost turn Atheiſt, and forſwear

heaven, all gods, all divine providence!

if to Plutuswe his eyes reſtore,

men ſhall grow in wealth, and Knaves grow poore.

In my pinion this ſimple-giſme—

Fie neighbour, 'tis a Syllogiſme.

Why simple and silly is all one: be what Giſme it will be, ſure’twas not in true mud and fig-tree, there was never a Tar-boxin the breech of it.

O Dotards, how eaſily you may be perſwaded to die as arrant foolsas you were born! If Plutusrecover his eye-ſight, and diſtribute his riches equally, you ſhallſee what will become of your Anabaptiſtical Anarchy: what arts orſciences would remain. If every Vulcan be as good as your ſelves,what Smug will make your Worſhips dripping-pans?

Why he that makes the Fire-shovels and Tongs: or if all fail, Quiſqueest fortunæ ſuæ faber,we’ll make our driping pans our ſelves: we can do more then that,we can preach to our ſelves already.

Who would coble your ſhooes, or mend your honorable ſtockings?

O there be Sermon-makers enough can do that bravely: the onlyMetaphyſicks they are beaten in, Remacutangunt.

Who would carry you up to London,if the Waggon-driver ſhould think himſelf as good a man as hismaſter?

Why we would ride thither on our own Hackney-Conſciences.

Nay if this were ſo, the very Tailers though they damn’d you allto hell under their ſhop-boards, would ſcorn to come to the makingup of as good a man as PericlesPrince of Tyre.

Marry that were a happy time for the Low-Countries:the Spaniſh Pike would not then be worth a Bodkin.

There would be no Preſbyters to directoriſe you, no Landreſſes toſope you, no Plough-men to feed you, no Inne-keepers to fox you, noSycophants to flatter you, no Friends to cheat you. Ergoyou have brought your hogs to a fair market.

How ſhe proves her ſelf a Sow in concluſion!

’Twasin Concluſion, that it might not be denied. Me thinks Povertydiſputes very poorly, and that's a wonder; for likely the nakedtruth is on her ſide.

Yet ſhe remembred an Argo,and that made her argument not ſo weak and impudent: in my pinionthis Argois a Quarter-ſtaffe at least.

And (Poverty)what good turn can you do us, except it be to fill our eares with thebawlings of hungry brats and brawling baſtards? No doubt you canbring us a flock of fleas and a herd of lice to store the paſturegrounds of our miserable Microcoſmes; the unmannerly hogs withhunger betimes to deſire us to deferre our breakfaſts a fortnightlonger. You can give us field-beds, with heaven for our canopy, andſome charitable ſtones for our pillows. We need not expect thefelicity of a horſe to lie at rack and manger; but yet our aſſesand we muſt be content with the ſame provender. No Roſt-beef, noſhoulders of Mutton, no Cheeſe-cakes, no Matchivilian Florentines:

whence our greateſt grief does riſe,

Plumb-porredg, nor no Plumbpudding pies.

(Poverty)I will anſwer your arguments at the whipping-poſt.

That was strong and piercing for Plumb-porredge: for truly oneporrenger of Plumb-porredge is an argument more unanſwerable thenCampiansten Reaſons.

Aliterprobo sic.Your poor creatures have not wherewith to bury themſelvs; but it isnot fit that the ſoul ſhould go a beging for the charges of thebodies funerall. Ergofalleris Domina Poverty.

You do not dispute ſeriously, you put me off with triflingnugations. Thus I diſpute. If I make men better then Riches, I am tobe preferred before Riches. But I make men better: for poor men havethe better conſciences, becauſe they have not ſo much guilt, Jcall their empty purſes to witneſſe. Aliterprobo ſic.J moralize men better then Plutus:Exemplum gratia: Plutusmakes men with pufft faces, dropſie bodies, Bellies as big as thegreat Tub at Heidelberg;Noſes by the vertue of Malmſie ſo full of Rubies, that you mayſwear, had Poverty had dominion in their Nativities, they had neverhad ſuch rich faces: Besides, they have eyes like Turky-cocks,Double-chins, Flapdragon-cheeks, Lips that may ſpare half an ell,and yet leave kiſſing room enough. Nay, ’tis the humour of thisage, they think they ſhall never be great men, unleſſe they havegroſſe bodies. Marry Ikeep men spare and lean, ſlender and nimble; mine are allDiminutives, TomThumbs,not one Coloſſus,not one Garagantuaamongst them; fitter to encounter the enemy by reaſon of theiragility, in leſſe danger of ſhot for their tenuity, and moſtexpert in running away, ſuch is their celerity. Ergo,Irusis a good ſouldier, and Midasis an aſſe.

Troth ſhe has toucht Midas;ſhe has caught him by the worſhipful ears.

Nay tis no wonder if they be ſlender enough, you keep them with ſuchſpare diet: they have ſo much Lent and Faſting-dayes, that theyneed not fear the danger of being as fat as Committee-men. If a manſhould ſee a company of their lean carkaſſes aſſembledtogether, ’t would make him think Doomſ-day were come to townbefore its time.

Moreover, that which is moſt noble is moſt preferrable. But Povertyis moſt noble. MinorI prove thus: Whoſe houſes are moſt ancient, thoſe are moſtnoble: But Poverties houſes are moſt antient; for ſome of them areſo old, like Vicaridge-houſes, they are every hour in danger offalling.

What a ſilly womans this to talk of Nobility houſes! Does not ſheknow we are all Levellers, there’s no Nobility now.

Neighbour, I think ſo too: I am an Unpundant too, I think.

Nayſhe does not diſpute well. Her Majorwas born in Bedlam,her Minorwas whipt in Bridewell,Ergo her Concluſionis run out of her wits. For well ſaid M. Rhombus,Ecce mulier blancata quaſi lilium.Now I oppoſe her with a Dilemma, aliasthe Cuckold of Arguments. My Dilemma is this: Citizens and Townſmenare rich, for there’s the Cornucopia;Ergo, Riches are better then Poverty. Nay, if Riches were not in ſomeaccount, why would Iupiterbe ſo rich? for you ſee he has engroſſed to himſelf the goldenage of Iacobuſſes, and the ſilver age of Shillings and Six-pences,and left us nothing but the brazen age of Plundring and Impudence;for Tinkers Tokens are gone away too. To conclude in one ſyllogiſmemore, J will prove my Tenet true by the example of HecateQueen of Hell; ſhe would turn the Clark of her Kitchin out of hisoffice, and not ſuffer him to be the Devils manciple any longer, ifhe ſhould bring any lean carkaſſe or any carrion-ſoul to beſerved up at her table. Her chief diſh is the larded ſoul of aplump Uſurer, baſted with the dripping of a greaſie Alderman; theſauce being made with the braines of a great Conger-headed Lawyer,butter’d with the greaſe of a well-fed Committee-man, ſerved upfor want of ſawcers in the two eares of an unconſcionableScrivener. Ergo, Poverty,you may go and hang your ſelf.

O for the Barbadoes!J have no place left for my entertainment.

Come brethren, let us kick her out of the Univerſe.

O whither ſhall J betake my ſelf!

To the houſe of Charity.

To the houſe of Charity? that’s an old ruin’d cold lodging, asbad as a Correction houſe. Good your worſhips, take ſome pitty onmiserable Poverty!

Did you ever hear ſuch a ſoleciſme?

Troth master, J never knew it in my life: All our Pariſh was everagainst it.

And ours too, and J think all Englandover.

Poverty, then J ſay thou ſhalt have a Juſtice of Peaces charity,the whipping-post; thou ſhalt be laſht under the ſtatute of ſturdyRogues and Beggers: look for no pitty, ’tis charity to pitty thoſethat are rich: Go get you packing.

Well, ſirs, though you put Poverty away now, yet you or your heirsmay be glad to ſend for me ere long.

Poverty.

Jt ſhall be to the gallows then, by my conſent: if you mean toprevent it, the best way is to go and pine away quickly.

Farewell old Rag of Babylon, for we muſt be rich, and thereforeworſhipfull.

omnes.

your leave Mr. Parſon.

2. Scæn. 6.

Clip-latinea Parſon,Dicaeusa Parſon,Clod-pole,Stiffe, Scrape-all.

Last night J laught in my ſleep. The Queen of Fairiestickled my noſe with a Tithe-pigs taile. J dreamt of anotherBenefice, and ſee how it comes about! Next morning Plutusthe God of wealth comes to my houſe, and brings me an Augmentationand a good fat Living. He ſaid he came to viſit me: as ſure as canbe J am ordained to be rich at his Viſitation, ’tis better thenthe Biſhops or Archdeacons. Now muſt J be one of the Aſſembly,and walk demurely in a long black Cloak at Westminſter,forgetting all my Greek and Latine.

Faith brother, that have J done already: my name’s Clip-latinetruly; J read a Homily, and pray by the Service-book divinely.

Divinely, quoth a! Thou muſt take Extemporein hand, or elſe thou wilt nere be rich in theſe dayes.

Do you hear, neighbours! ſhall us leave the Common-Prayer?

God forbid, Mr Ficar! why ’twas writ in Davidstime; and ThomasSternhold andIohnHopkinsjoyn’d it to the Pſalms in thoſe dayes, and turn’d it into ſuchexcellent Metre, that J can ſleep by it as well as any in thePariſh.

Beſides, naighbour, we don’t know this new Sect what they pray, wecan’t vollow them in their Extrumperies.

You ſee the caſe is cleer, Sir: J am for the King and thePrayer-Book.

Well ſaid Parſon, we ſhall love thee the better for that, holdthere ſtill.

Yet (Brother) becauſe thou art of our cloth, I’le ſpeak to Plutusfor thee. Thou ſhalt have twenty pounds perannumſtanding ſtipend, and the love of thy Pariſh becauſe thou takeſtnothing of them, Doeſt mark me? Twenty pounds, I ſay. I muſt begone. Exit.Dic.

A good ſaying and a rich. Now ſhall I ſurfiet in a Sattin Cloak;from twenty nobles to twenty pounds! O brave!

We are glad of it vaith Mr. Ficar.

Come Neighbours, upon this good news, lets chop up and to my HoſtSnego’s,he’le be glad to hear of it too. I am reſolved to build no moreSconces, but to pay my old tickets. Come let’s in and drink a Cupof ſtingo.

Vaith Vicar, thou giveſt us good destruction ſtill.

in, come, come.

2. Scæn.7.

Blepſidemus,Chremylus, Carion.

O the divinity of being rich! Now Plutusis come. But who is Plutus?Why, he is the Noblemans Tutor, the Princes and States fleet ofPlate, the Lawyers Littleton,the Major and Aldermens Fur-gown, the Justice’s Warrant, theConſtable and Bum-bailies Tip-ſtaffe, the Aſtronomers Blazingſtar, the Mathematicians Record or counting table, the CavaliersService-book, the Presbyterians Directory, the IndependensEx-tempore, the Popes golden Legend, the Fri-ars Nun, the MonkesBreviary, the Worldlings God, the Prelates Cannons, and BiſhopsOath, &c.— I could reckon more, but he is the very Ladder toworſhip and honour. Imuſt be rich, and therefore honorable, and proud, and grave.

O gentleman-like reſolution!

Yet now Ithink on’t, J will not be grave; for grave bodies do naturallydeſcend to baſe Conditions, which is clean contrary to thecomplexion of my humour; yet J will cry hum with the beſt in thePariſh. J will underſtand as little as the wealthieſt Citizen ofthem all.

Marry, and that’s a proud word, Blepſidemus.

Iwill ſleep as ſoundly at Church and ſnort as loud at Sermons asthe Church-warden himſelf, or the Maſter of the Company.

O infinite ambition!

Iwill entertain none for my Whores under the reputation of Ladies,unleſſe they be Parſons daughters.

O! because they may claim the benefit of the Clergie.

I will daign none the honour of being my worſhips Cuckolds, that isnot a round-headed Brother of the Corporation.

He’el make it a principle of the City Charter. Horns of ſuchmaking, will be of as great eſteem as the Cap of maintenance.

Hereafter Gentlemen, hereafter, Iſay, in contempt of a penny quart, I will throw Piſpot-lanein the face of Py-corner:J will be foxt no where but at Round-headed Inns, that J may behoneſtly drunk, and carry it with the greater gravity and ſafety.The ſoule of Sack and the flower of Ale ſhall be my drink, that myvery Urine may be the quinteſſence of Canary.

Why then, Vespasianmight deſire no greater Revenue, then the reverſion of yourChamber-pot.

But come let us withdraw, and carry Plutusto the Temple of Esculapius;Carionmake ready the neceſſaries, ſee you play the Sumpter-horse withdiscretion. Let us make haſte, for J long to be worſhipfull.

friends, this day gives period to our ſorrow,

will drown cares in bowles of Sack to morrow.

ambo.

3. Scæn. i.

PeniaPoverty,Higgen, Termock, Brun, Caradock,and an Army of Rogues.

Souldiers, you ſee men Poverty deſpiſe

God of Riches hath recover’d eyes;

us invade them now with might and main

make them know their former ſtate again;

forth brave Champions, though your Noble Valours

out at Elbows, ſhew your ſelves to be

of worth, rags of Gentility.

Blades, arayed in Diſh-clouts, dirty Pluſh,

the grave Senators of Beggars-buſh;

Poverty, ſole Empreſſe of your States,

your best blood, you have no wealthy Fates:

thinks Iſee your Valours, and eſpie

rag, a Trophy of your Victory.

Brun,thou worthy Scotof gallant race,

though thou loſt an arm at Chevy-chaſe,

thy valour. And thou Caradock,

Leek of Wales,Pendragon’snoble ſtock

up thy Welſh-bloodto encounter theſe,

zeal as fervent as thy toaſted Cheeſe.

thou brave Red-ſhanktoo, Termockby name,

of Red-ſhanks,& Hybernia’sfame.

conquer theſe, or ſcatter them like chaff;

lick them up as glib as Uſquebaghe.

Higgenthou, whoſe potent Oratory

Beggars-buſhadmire thy eloquent ſtory,

bravely on and reſcue me from danger,

Poverty to you will prove a ſtranger,

heavens forbid.

Poverty, poverty, poverty for our money!

Nay, without money Sirs, and be conſtant too.

Poverty, poverty, poverty, our Patroneſſe!

Cats plutter a nailes; Her were beſt by her troth take very manyheeds, how her make a commotion in her ſtomachs; if her ploud be butup twice and once, her will tug out her Sword, and gads nigs, let hertake very many heed, her will carbonado very much Legs and Arms. BySt. Taffie,I'le tear the moſt valianteſt of them all into as arrant Atomes asthere be motes in the Moon. Try he dare whoſe will; I tickle theirhoop-ſir Dominees, elſe, never let her ſing hapatery, while ſhehas live any longer. If her doe not conquer them upſide down, lether never while ſhe lives in Heuiope,god bleſſe her, eat Couſh-bobby with the man in the Moon. HerCoſhen Merlinher Country-man, hath told her in a Whiſper, very a many much taleof her valour above foreſcore and twenty years ſince.

Bravely reſolved; O how I love thy Valour!

ſweeter then Metheglin, Iall Canarvoncannot afford a Comrade half ſo noble.

And Termockvill ſhpend te beſht ploud in hiſh heelſh in the ſerviſh.

Renowned Termock,thanks from our Princely ſelf.

Nay, keep ty tancks to thy ſelf, Termockis ty truſhty ſhubſheckt.

And aies wos gang with thee Mon. Aies have bin a prupder gud man inthe Borders. Aies fought blith and bonny for the gewd Earle Duglaſſe:Aies show thy foemen a Scutch trick. Aies mumble their crags like aSheeps-head or Cokes-noſe, Aiſ I do not let me bund to Sup withnothing but Perk and Sow-baby.

Well ſaid brave Brun,hold but thy Reſolution,

never a Souldier breathing ſhall excell thee.

Nay’s mon, aif I cannot give ’um mickle raſhers enough my ſelf,aies gang home to my Bellibarneand get luſty Martial Barns, ſhall pell mell their Noddles: Whatgars great Higgen?

Attend, attend; I Higgenthe grand Oratour

to yawn, lend me your Aſſes ears;

auſcultation. Higgen,whoſe Pike-ſtaffe Rhetorick,

all the world obey your Excellence

cudgelling them with Crab-tree eloquence.

luſty Doxies, there’s not a Quire Cove,

then I in all the bowſing Kens

are twixt Hockly’ith’ holeand Iſlington.

theſe good ſtampers, upper and neather Duds;

nip from Ruffmansof the Harmanbeck,

glimmer’d in the fambles, Icly the chates:

ſtand the Pad or Mill, the Churches deneir.

bungs, dupp gibbers leager, lowze and bowſe.

in ſtrommel, in darkmans for pannum

the grand Ruffian come to mill me, I

ſcorn to ſhuttle from my Poverty:

So, ſo, well ſpoke, my noble Engliſh Tatter,

up the Vant-guard, muſter up an army,

army royal of ImperialLice.

And J will be the Scanderbegof the Company,

very Tamberlane of this ragged rout;

follow me my Souldiers—–

Yaws grand Captain, ſir, ſuft and fair; gar away, there be gewd menin the Company. Aies Captain, for aies have more scutch Lice, thenthou haſt Engliſh creepers, or He Brittiſh Goats about him.

What then? my Lice are of the noble breed,

from the Danes,Saxonsand Normansblood;

Engliſh-born, all plump and all well ſavour’d:

warning then good ſir, be not ſo proud,

to compare your Vermine ſir, with ours.

Pleaſh ty ſhit graſh, let nedder nodder of them my ſhit Empreſſehave te plaſh of ty Captain, J am te beſht of edder odder. J haveſeen te faſh of the vild Iriſh.Termockknows vat it is to fight in the Pogs like a valiant Coſtermonger, upto the Noſh in ploud. Not to make much prittle and prattle to nonepurpoſh, Termockhas fight under Oneale,for her King and Queen in te wars. Vat, J speak tiſh by te Shoes ofPatrick,if that Termockbe the Captain, thou ſhalt beat ty foes to peeces and paſhes.

Is Caradockno respected amongſt her; Her Lice are petter a pedecree as thegooddſt of them all. Her Lice come apShinkin,ap Shon,ap Owen,ap Richard,ap Morgan,ap Hugh,ap Brutus,ap Sylvius,ap Eneas,and ſo up my ſhoulder. An't her Lice will not deſhenerate from herpetticree pretious Coles. Her anceſtors fought in the Wars of Troy,by this Leck, as luſtily as the Lice of Troilus.Nay, by St. Taffie,the Lice of Hector,were but Nits in compariſon of her magnanimous Lice. Do notdiſparage her nor her Lice, if her love her guts in her pelly.

But if Termockhave no Liſh, ſall He derefore not be te Captain? Poſh on herLiſh. Termockhaſh none graſh a Patrick;no ſuch venemous tings vill preed in hiſh Country.

I will be Captain, for my Robes are martiall:

martiall Robes, full of uncureable wounds.

Doublet is adorned with thouſand ſcars,

Breeches have endured more ſtorms and tempeſts

any man's that lyes perdue for Puddings.

have kept Sentinel every night this twelve moneth;

Ducks and Geeſe, ſpitted the Pigs,

all to Victual this camp of Rogues.

’Faith,and her clothes are as ancient a petticree as thine, her fery Dubletis coſhen ſherman to utter PendragonsSherken, or else Caradockis a fery rogue by Saint Taffie.

You ſhall not thus contend, who ſhall be Captain;

do’t my ſelf, Come follow me brave Souldiers.

I faith! ſhe is a brave Virago mon.

BySt.Taffie,she is an Amaſhon,a Debora,

Brunduca,a Ioanof Oleance,

de Dieu,a MallCatpurſe,a Long-megof Weſtminſter.

She ſall be te Captain, for all tee, or any odder in Engliſh lond.

Whips on you all! follow the Femine gender?

under th’ Enſigne of a Petticoat?

act unworthy ſuch brave ſpirits as we:

our old Vertues, ſhall we forget

ancient Valours? Shall we in this one action

all our honour, blur our reputations:

men of ſuch high fortunes daign to ſtoop

ſuch diſhonourable terms? How can our thoughts

entertainment to ſuch low deſignes?

ſpirits yet are not diſſolv’d to whey,

have no ſoule, ſo poor as to obey,

ſuffer a ſmock rampant to conduct me.

Aife thou’s keep a mundring mandring, mon, i’ſe gang toEdinborow. The Deill lead your army for Brun,aiesno medle, Adieu, adieu.

Ah Brun!Blerawhee, blerawhee.

Ah Brun,Brun!Shulecrogh, fether vilt thou, fether vilt thou?

What yaw doing mon to call Brunback; and you be fules, I'le ſtay no lenger.

Ah Brun,Brun!ſhall be Captain, by all te green Sheeſe in the Moon. Brunſhall be Captain for Caradock,if her would not give place to Brunher heart were as hard as Flint-ſhire.

Brunſall be te beſht in te company, if tere were a touſand touſand of’um.

I’le not reſigne my right, J will be Captain.

fit I ſhould: Hath not my valour oft

try’d, at Bridewelland the Whipping-poſt?

Let Higgenthen be Captain, his ſweet tongue

powerfull rhetorick may perſwade the Rout.

Cats plutter a nailes, Higgenſhall be Captain for her Ears; yet Caradockwill be valiant in ſpight of her Teeth.

brave Captain Higgen!

Higgen,a Higgen,a Higgen.

So then Souldiers, follow your Leader: Valiant Brun

you the Rear; you Termockſhall command

Regiment of Foot. Generous Caradock

you a care of the Left-wing.

O disparaſhment to her reputation! Brutushiſh Coſhen look the whing. Think you her will flee away. Her willſtand to it tooth and naile, while there be ſkin and bones in herpelly.

Let the Army gang to the Deill. Aies no medle.

Stay tere man, vat tou doe Brun?

My brave comradoes, Knights of tatter’d Fleece,

Falſtafs Regiment, you have one ſhirt among you.

ſeen in plundring money for the Ale-houſe.

is the fruit of our Domeſtick broiles,

are return’d to ancient Poverty

(ſeeing we are lowſie) let us ſhew our breeding.

though we ſhrug, yet lets not leave our calling:

Rampant, bravely all train’d up

the well ſkil’d Artillery of Bridewell;

on brave ſouldiers, you that neer turn’d back

any terrour but the Beadles whip.

St. Andrew,St. Andrew.

St. Taffie,St. Taffie.

St. George,St. George.

St. Patrick,St. Patrick.

Saints are diſcarded.

Andrew,Taffie,George,and Patricktoo

the whol messe of them be all propitious!

If any do reſiſt us, let us throw

Crutches at them. J have here

empty ſleeve to ſtrike out all their teeth,

a mankin to wipe all our wounds.

valiant, and as ear’ſt the SpaniſhCobler

his eldeſt ſonne upon his death-bed:

you do nothing, that may ill beſeem

Families you come of; let not the aſhes

your dead Anceſtours bluſh at your diſhonours;

your glory of your Houſe; for me

ne’re diſgrace my noble Progenie.

Caradockdiſgraſh her Petticree? No,by St. Prutusbones; her will fight till her ſtand, while tere be legs in herbeels. If her pe killed, her will not run away.

Aies gar away? Aies not budge a foot by St. Andrew.

Termockdiſgrash hiſh fadders and mudders? Termockwill ſtand while tere be breath in his breech.

3. Scæn. 2.

Clodpole, Lackland, Stiff, Scrape-all,to them.

whipsthem.they run.

Higgen,Scandebeg,Tamberlain,grand Captain Higgen.

Souldiers ſhift for your ſelves. We are all routed.

Is this you would not diſgrace your noble Progeny?

My Ancestors were all footmen. Running away will not diſgrace myProgeny.

O diſgraſh to peat St. Taffie’scoſhen! Uſe the true Prittiſh no petter?

Caradock,will you and your Lice diſgrash her Progeny? The Vermin of Hectorand Troiluswould not do ſo for all AchillesMyrmidons.

Her do follow her petticree from head to foot: Her Grandſire Eneasran away before. Exit.Carad.

Marry ill tide thee mon, uſe a mon of our Nation no better.

Generous Brun,Ithought you would not have budg’d a foot by St. Andrew.

What of that woman? Aies no endure Poverty,

Scutslove mickle wealth better then ſo.

Brun.

Will Termocktoo diſgraſh his Fadder and Mudders?

Termockruns for te credit of his heels to look the Reſhiment of foot. Ex.Ter.

Now, wo is me, wo is my Poverty! That can finde grace or mercy in fewplaces.

ſhall I doe? If my whole Army flie,

muſt run too; if I ſtay here, J die.

Penia

3. Scæn. 3.

and the Ruſticks,Clodpole,Stiffe,&c.

So now you ſee Carionfor his valour may compare with DonQuixotor the mirror of chivalry. Come, come along you old fortunateRaſcals, you that in the dayes of Queen Richardfed upon nothing but barly-broth and puddings, you ſhall be rich yourogues all of you, feed hard at the Counceltable.

daintily wilt thou become a ſcarlet Gown, when ſuch poore ſnakesas I ſhall come with Cap and Knee, How does your good Lordship? Didyour Honour ſleep well to night? How does Madam Kateand Madam Ciſs,have their Honours any morning-milk-cheeſe to ſell? Will it pleaſeyour Lordſhip to command your ſervant to be drunk in yourhonours-wine-ſeller? Your Honours in all duties, and ſo J kisseyour Honours hand.

Thou ſhalt kiſſe my Honours taile. Then will I again ſay, Fellow,how does thy honorable Lord? tell him he does not congenerate fromthe noble family he comes of: I would have ſome confabilitation withhim concerning a hundred of his Lordſhips pitch-forks. But I amgoing to the Bench, and with the Committee to firk up the proudPrieſts before us, and humble the Country. Tell him Madam Kateis as ſound as a Kettle: thou ſhouldſt have concourſt with herLadiſhip, but ſhe is ſkimming her Milk-bowls, and melting herdripping-pans as buſie as a body-louse. Now fellow go into mywine-cellar to play on my ſack-buts, and take no care for findingthe way out again. But ſirrah, ſee you drink my Honours health: youſee I can tell what belongs to Lordſhips, and what is more to goodmanners. But what’s the newes a-broad, my honest Corantoſtilo novo ſub ſ^umpauper.

I know not what to ſay, but that my maſter is Emperor ofConſtantinople,a ſecond Tamberlain;we ſhall have nothing but glary Beefe and Bajazers in everyCup-board.Plutushas left ſtumbling; the puppy is nine dayes old, and can ſeeperfectly. Gra-mercy Esculapius!tis pitty but thou ſhouldſt have a better beard then Apollothy father. O Esculapius,the very Pultiſe of Surgeons, and Urinal of Phyſitians!

Vaith neighbours, then let us make bone-fires: this newes is as ſweetas Zugar-zopps. (Heſings.)

Ianeand I full right merrily, this jollity will avouch,

witneſſe our mirth upon the green earth,

we’ll dance a clatter-do-pouch.

clatter, &c.

And then will J kiſſe thy Kateand my Ciſſe,as ſoon as J riſe from my couch.

wenches ile tumble and merrily jumble,

wee’ll dance a clatter-de-pouch.

clatter-de-pouch, clatterde—&c.

Jle kiſſe if J can our Dary-maid Nan,

we’ll billing be found:

every ſlouch dance clatter-de-pouch,

we’ll dance a Sellengers round.

J will not be found at Sellengers round,

thou do call me a ſlouch.

horſe cannot prance a merrier dance

rumbling and jumbling a clatter-de-pouch,

&c.

Then rumbling &c.

Clodpole,Lackland.

Mrs.Chremylus,manet Carion.

ChremylusHere’s rumbling and jumbling indeed. Iwas ſpinning my daughter a new ſmock, and they keep ſuch a noise Icannot ſleep for um. Paſſion o’ my heart, Iwonder what news there is abroad, and why that knave Carionmakes no more haſte home.

Now will Ibe an Emperor, and contemn my Mistreſſe

Chremyluswhat news Carion?

Icannot anſwer them to day, command the Embaſſadors to attend ourwill to morrow.

ChremylusWhy Carion,Iſay!

Go give him my gold-chain and pretious jewel.

ChremylusWhat are you mad?

And a rich cup-board of my daintieſt plate.

let me ſee what it will coſt me now,

to maintain some forty thouſand men

arms againſt the Turks.

ChremylusSirra, do you know your ſelf?

Suppoſe Ilend ſome twenty thouſand millions.

ChremylusSome twenty thouſand puddings.

And ſend two hundred ſaile to conquer Spain,and Ruperttoo, and fright the Inquiſition

of their wits—

ChremylusIf any be out more then thou, Ile be hanged.

The King of Polanddoes not keep his word:

then my Tenants for my Cuſtom-houſe

twenty hundred thouſand pounds behind hand.

Haberdaſhers-Hall,or the Ile of Tripoly.

ChremylusTake that for your Haberdaſhers-hall,or Isle of Tripoly.

cuffs him)

Traitors; my guard! where are my Beef-eaters? O my old Mrs. was ityou? why, are you not drunk with mirth? Iwas in good hope ere this to have ſeen you reeling in a French hood.Well, have at your old petticoat.Madam, Ihave news will raviſh you, my dainty Madam; a buſhel ofunmeaſurable joy.

ChremylusThen prethee tell thy comfortable meſſage; and if it tickle me inthe telling, Iwill give thee a pair of high-ſhooes more then thy quarters wages.

Listen then while Ianatomiſe my whole diſcourse from the head to the heel.

Chremylus Nay good Carion,not to the heel.

But Iwill, though your heel were a Polonian, or a French heel, which isthe faſhion.

ChremylusNay do not moleſt me, Carion.Iam very ſqueamiſh, and may chance have a qualm come over myſtomack.

Then I begin. Firſt we came to the god leading Plutus,then most miſerable, but now as happy as Fortunatushis Night-cap. Firſt we made him a Dipper, we duckt him over headand ears in water, we made him an Anabaptiſt.

ChremylusAlas poor ſoul, ’twas enough to have put him into an ague: onewould not have uſed a Water-ſpaniel more unmercifully.

No, nor a curſt quean in a cucking-ſtool, Mrs. You ſee whatcreatures theſe dippers are. J warrant when the young Laſles were adipping, the blind Rogue could ſee that well enough. Well, Mrs.coming to the Temple of Eſculapius,whereall the altars ſtood furniſht with reaking paſties and hotpippin-pies, O ’twas ſuch ſweet religion, my mouth watered at it.Juſt upon the hearth they were beathing a great black-pudding, toſtay the gods ſtomack till breakfaſt. Here we laid Plutusin a cradle and rockt him aſleep.

Chremylus Othe folly of ſuch Simpletons, lay an old man in a cradle!

And why not? is he not a child the ſecond time? Next, every man madehis own bed: the liberal god allowed us freſh peaſe-ſtraw.

ChremylusAnd was there no more lame and impudent creatuers at thisSpittle-houſe?

Of all ſorts, miſtreſſe. There was a young heire newly crept outhis wardſhip, that had been ſick of a young Lady three years andupwards.

ChremylusJust as I am of Chremylus.Sirra, ſeeing you are of good parts and properties, you may preſumeto come ſometimes into my bed-chamber.

No miſtreſſe, the Dary-maid ſhall ſerve my turn. Next was apretty waiting-gentlewoman, that with dreaming of her Lord, wasfallen into a terrible Green-ſickneſſe.

ChremylusNow by my holidame, J could have cured that my ſelf; if ſhe betroubled with the maidenhead-grief, J can give her as quickdeliverance as any Eſculapiusin Europe.

Many Lawyers were troubled with the itch in their fingers; many youngHeires in a conſumption; burſt Citizens so over-ſwell’d withintereſt-mony, that they were in danger of breaking; manyTreaſurers, Sequeſtrators and Receivers came for help, for they hadreceived ſo much monies, that they had loſt their eye-ſight, andcould not ſee to make accounts: there were Townſmen came to havetheir brow-antlers knockt off, Preſbyterians for the Directory,Cavies for the Service-book; ſome Tradeſmen and Scholers, that hadlong fed upon coſtive Uſurers, being much bound, came to the Templeto be made ſolluble.

ChremylusNay, if he be ſo good at it, Ile go and ſee if he can cure me of mycorns; they vexe me ſo wonderfully, J cannot ſleep for um.

Marry Ioveforbid, miſtreſſe! ſhould your corns be cured, how ſhould mymaſter do for an Almanack to foretell the weather? Pond,Booker,Allestree,IeffryNeveGent. nay nor MerlinusAnglicus,are not half ſo good Aſtronomers as your Ladiſhips prophetiquetoes.

ChremylusMaſſe if it be ſo, J ſhall ſave him two pence a year, ratherthen put him to the charges of an Almanack. But was there any more?

Yes there were many Country-lobs, that having ſurfeited on theglory-bacon of their Milk-maids favours, were fain to repair to thenext Alehouſe for purgations. Deaf Scriveners came for their cares;Silenc’d Miniſters to be cured of dumbneſſe; many Scholers ofColledges, whoſe gowns having been ſick divers years of the ſcurf,deſired the god to do them the grace as to change the colour of thatdiſeaſe into the black-jaundies.

Chremylus And did he cure them all?

All but Neoclides;a blind fellow, and yet ſuch an arrant thief, that he ſtole allthings he ſet his eyes on. To proceed: the Monk put out thetallow-tapers, bid us ſleep, and whatſoever hiſſing we heard, toſee and ſay nothing. There we ſlept ſoundly, and in the honour ofEſculapiusſnorted moſt devoutly. Marry J could not ſleep: for there was anold woman with a pitcher of peaſe-porredge at her head lay next tome. Now I had a great zeal to devoure the delicious pillow: butputting forth my hand, I eſpied the bald Friar eating the religiouscakes, and cracking of the conſecrated nuts. So I thinking it apeece of divine charity, ſtudied how to cheat the old Beldame.

ChremylusO ſacrilegious Varlet! wert not afraid of the god?

Yes, leſt he might coſen me of my peaſe-porredge. The womanperceiving me put forth her hand: then I fell a hiſſing like aWincheſter-gooſeon S.Georgesdragon;the woman ſnatcht back her fangs, and for very fear ſmelt like theperfume of a Polecat: in the interim Iſupt up the porredge; and my belly being full, I laid my bones toreſt.

ChremylusAnd did not the god come yet?

O miſtreſſe, now comes the jeſt: when the god came neer me, mydevotions apoſterioriſent him forth moſt ridiculous oriſons; the Peaſe-broth in me wasſo windy that I thought I had an Aeolusin my belly; my guts wambled, and on the ſudden evaporated a clap ortwo of moſt unmanerly thunder, the very noiſe of it broke all theUrinals in the Spittle-houſe, and ſaved Eſculapiusthe labour of caſting Iupiterswater; it frighted his poor Apothecary out of his wits, as he wasmaking Saturna glister: and for the ſmell, Penaceatold her father that ſhe was ſure it could not be frankincenſe.

ChremylusYes, but was not the god angry that you kept your backſide nocloſer?

Who he! ’Tis ſuch a naſty Numen,he would be glad if your cloſe-ſtool were his alms-tub, that hemight feed upon your meat at ſecond hand.

ChremylusNay, but leave your windy diſcourſe, and proceed with your tale.

At length two ſnakes appeared, and lickt Plutuseyes: then Æſculapiusbeating Aigushis head in a mortar, tempered it with a look beyond Luther,well minced with the roſted apple of his eye: the whole confectionboil’d in a pint of chriſtalline humour, which being dropt intohis eye with the feather of a peacocks tail, he recovered his ſightin the twinkling of an eye.

ChremylusBut how came the god of wealth blind?

How! Becauſe Honeſty is like a Puck-fiſt; he never met it butonce, and it put out his eyes: beſides, the rich Rogue had too manyPearls in his eyes.

ChremylusAnd what are we the better now his eye-ſight is reſtored?

Why thus: None but honeſt people ſhall grow rich now; there’s thewonder: my maſter Chremylusſhall be an Earl, and you from the Cream-pot of Ruſticity ſhall bechurn’d into the honourable Butter of a Counteſſe.

ChremylusNay, they were wont to call me Counteſſe before: and I ſhall dowell enough for a Counteſſe, I warrant you. I thank my ſtars, Ican ſpin as fine a thred for woollen, as any Counteſſe in England.Well Carion,nowIam a Counteſſe, Mrs. Ficar ſhall not ſit above me in the Church;Iwill have as fine a ſtammel-Petticoat and rich Stomacher as theproudeſt of them all. Piethee Cariongo to the Goldſmith, buy me a ring, and ſee it be well enamour’d.

You would ſay enamell’d. But Mrs. what will you do now?

ChremylusIwill go in to preſent the gods new Eyes with a baſket of Pippinsand a dozen of Churchwardens.

ambo.

Plutus,Chremylus.

Good morrow to the morn next to my gold:

bright Apollo,I ſalute thy rayes,

next the earth, Minerva’sſacred land.

Cecropianſoile, Atheniancity.

my ſoule bluſhes, and with grief remembers

miſerable blindneſſe! wretched Plutus,

hood-winkt ignorance made thy guilty feet

into the company of Raſcals,

Sequeſtrators, Pettifoggers,

Coxcombs, Sycophants and unconſcionable Coridons,

Citizens whoſe falſConſcience weigh’d too light

their own ſcales, claim’d by a principall Charter

Cornucopia proper to themſelves.

good just men, ſuch as did venture lives

Countries ſafety and the Nations honour,

paid with their own wounds, and made thoſe ſcars

were accounted once the marks of honour,

miſerable priviledge of begging,

to have lodging in an Hoſpital.

thoſe whoſe labors ſuffer nightly throes

give their teeming brains deliverance

enrich the land with learned merchandiſe

ſacred Traffique of the ſoule, rich wiſedome:

in their ſtudies, and like moathes devoure

very leaves they read, ſcorn’d of the Vulgar,

of the better ſort too many times,

if their knowledge were but learned wickedneſſe,

every Smug could preach aſwell as they:

as if men were worſe for Academies.

all ſhall be amended. I could tell

tale of horrour, and unmask foule actions;

as the night they were committed in.

could unfold a Lerna,andwith proofs

clear as this deer light, could teſtifie

I unwilling kept them company.

O heaven forbid! what wicked things are theſe?

ſuch there be, that flock into my company,

ſwarms as if they would devoure me quick,

throng ſo faſt, as if they’d crow’d my ſoule

of her houſe of clay: while every man

his ſupple hams, and oily tongue

fained complements and importunate ſervice.

could not walk th’ Exchange to day, but ſtraight

head was bare, every officious knee

to my honour, and enquired my health;

which is more intolerable, ſnow-white-heads,

every hair ſeem’d died in innocence.

that one leg which was not yet i’th’ grave,

like ſo many Tapſters. Theſe ſpring-tide friends,

ſwarming Flies, bred by the ſummers heat;

but adverſities black cloud appear,

lowring looks, theatning a winters ſtorm,

my ſummers ſwallow: theſe are friends

Cremyluscupboard, and affect I ſee

Oysters and my Puddings,’tis not me.

Mrs.Cremylus.

ChremylusMarry gods bleſſing oth’ thy ſoule! Now a hundred good morrowsto thy eyes. I have brought the a diſh of Pearmains and Pippins,with a diſh of Lordings and Lady-apples, and ſome of our countryfruit, half a ſcore of Ruſſetings.

O ’tis unfit, my eye-ſight being reſtored,

accept a kindeneſſe till I have beſtowed one.

ChremylusMarry and muff! I can be as ſtout as you if J please. Do you ſcornmy kindeneſſe?

Applesand Nuts, weel eat ’um by the fire,

the rude audience ſhall not laugh at us:

an abſurdity in a Comick Poet

make a muſſe of ſweetmeats on the Stage,

a handfull of ridiculous Nuts

catch the popular breath and ignorant praiſe

preaching Coblers, Carmen, Tinkers, Taylors.

ChremylusNay, ’tis e’en true, the good old Gentleman ſpeaks very wiſely;you may believe him, if you pleaſe. I’le be ſworn, this morning,the Lay-Clergie,while they were a preaching at Bell-allyin Colemanſtreet,I came by with my basket; the hungry Raſcals in pure zeal had liketo eat up my Ginger-bread, had there not been Popiſh pictures uponit; I had much adoe to keep them from ſcrambling my Apples too, hadnot the ſets of my old Ruffe lookt like ſo many Organ-Pipes andfrighted them. But faith rake-hels, (and you mend not your manners)I’le complain to Mr. Goodwinand the ’mittees too. Come in good Gentleman, though I have never atooth in my head, yet i’le crack Nuts with my Gumms but ile bearthee company.

ambo.

Actus Tertii.

4. Scæn. 1.

Solus.

To be rich is the daintieſt pleaſure in the world; eſpecially, togrow rich without ventring the danger of Tiburnor Whipping. Every Cupbord is full of Cuſtards, the Hogſheadsrepleniſhed with ſparkling Sacks. The verieſt Gippoin the houſe will not drink a degree under Muſcadine. All thePorredge-pots are arrant Barbarygold. All the Veſſels in the houſe, from the Baſon and Ewer tothe Chamber-pot and Vinegar-bottle, are of Middletonsſilver. The Kitchen and Buttery is entire Ivory, the very purity ofthe Elephants tooth. The Sinke is paved with the rich Rubies, andincomparable Carbuncles of Sir IohnOldcastle’sNoſe. The Conduit runs as good Rose-water as any is in AriſtotlesWell. The Diſh-clouts are cloath of Tiſſue, and from the skirts ofevery Scullion drop melting ſtreames of Amber greaſe. We the poorſervants play at Even and Odd with arch-angels, and at Croſſe andPile for Jacobuſſes, in a humour, to out Philipthe King of Spain.My Maſter is ſacrificing a Sow, a Goat, and a Ram for joy; But Jcould not endure the houſe, there is ſuch a ſmoak from the reakingof the roaſt, that though it pleaſe my ſtomack, my eyes areoffended with it.

Gogleand his Boy carrying his Shoes and Cloke.

Boy follow me, for J have a zeale to be rich;

devotion leads me in the righteous path

Plutusgod of wealth. Prophane poverty

a Carthuſian, and a grand delinquent,

o’th’ malignant party up in arms

the well-affected.

Say Brother, who are you, whoſe righteous Shoes conduct you hither?

AnaniasGogle,verily.

devout Brother, that hath oft been plundered

wicked perſecution: but laſt night

dreaming ſpirit foretold J ſhould be rich

happy made by Revelation.

Gogle,or Cogle,a Genevabrother

ſanctified ſnuffling, a pure Elder

preciſe cut, or elſe paſt Ordinances.

No, but a zealous Saint of Amſterdam,

Noſe is forward to promote the cauſe;

are Romiſh Jdols, yet misfortune

put so many diſmal Croſſes on me,

every croſſe was ſpent, and ſent away

ſuperſtitious Pilgrimages: fie upon’t,

zeal and ignorance ſhould be convertible.

What would you have, dear brother? for J think

have heard you Exerciſe at Bell-alley.

’Tistrue, but yet

come to PlutusConventicle now.

he can cure my troubles, he brings joy

the fraternity of Amſterdam,

the Genevabrotherhood, and the Saints

pure devotions feed on BunburyCakes:

can reſtore my wealth, give me abundance

holy Gold and Silver purified,

my talents ſpent upon the Siſters,

J may thrive again as did my father

reverent Saint Gogle,PatienceHypomoⁿe

holy Taylor and a venerable Parſon.

Say Brother, may a Taylor be a Parſon?

’Tisvery fit: For firſt, his ſacred Parchment

take the meaſure of Religion;

from the Cloth of a good Conſcience

up a Suit for honeſt Converſation:

with the thred of Goodneſſe, ſtitcht i’th’ Seams

twiſted Silk of Piety and Innocence;

with good Thoughts and charitable Actions:

ſacred ſhreds and ſnips of holy Carſey

chance to mend the Garments of the Righteous,

Satan come to rend their guiltleſſe robes.

But were you not in miſerable condition,

that Plutuscame to ſpeak amongſt you?

ſpeaks with golden eloquence, believe’t:

now your zealous bags are full again

holy ſilver, and good Brotherly gold;

cannot fall to deſperation,

ſo many Angels to defend you.

Yea certes: therefore now Ifind god Plutus

made me Collector of his contributions.

must needs thrive, therefore Itake occaſion

give the god the greateſt gratulation.

But tell me, zealous brother, why doth that boy

that Saint-like Cloak, and upright Shooes?

Cloaks are for Saints; they preach in Cloaks all now:

are all Popes: no Sermons without Cloaks.

holy Cloak and I these thirteen years

freez’d together, and theſe upright Shoes;

upright once, till their ungodly ſoles

always went awry, were rightly mended

a religious conſcionable Cobler,

Leather liquor’d in moſt zealous tears.

ſhooes, I ſay, ten winters and three more

traced the Conventicles of the Brethren.

shooes, this Cloak J come to dedicate

Plutus,in requital of his kindneſſe.

What, your ſhooes come for Conſecration?

Now fie upon your Popiſh Conſecration!

Cloak is not a rag of Babylon.

offer theſe as Presents: this ſame is

well-affected Cloak; and zealous ſhooes,

prophaned with irreligious toes.

precious gifts they are, ſuch devout preſents,

cannot but accept them verily.

Never-good.

O hone a cree ô hone!

empty purse and belly weep for ſorrow,

every ſtring and gut poures lamentations.

was a Sequeſtrator once, and uſed

find occaſions of Delinquencie

againſt the State, like a Promooter.

now my guts have ſequeſtred my belly,

let it out to others. Wretched ſtate

them that die in famine! But in me

dearth is here epitomiz’d.

Garret Oſtle-bridge was down, welladay, welladay.

As I was wont to inform againſt Malignants,

now my guts give informations

my teeth and ſtomach. Wretched Nere-be-good!

now muſt pine and ſtarve at Pennyleſſe-Bench,

ſtarved Orphans and delinquent Priſoners,

a Committees Marſhal. Now I ſee

’tis to want a little honeſtie.

that the Philoſophers truly had defined

Moon Green-Cheeſe! J would deſire the man

dwells in ſuch a bleſſed habitation,

roſt me one poor piece before I die,

for my Epitaph men might write this Note,

Sequeſtrator had a Welsh-mans throte.

Now verily I find by revelation,

is a Varlet of no honeſt faſhion;

’cauſe he had no honeſt occupation,

faln into moſt wretched tribulation.

O hunger, hunger! Now good sky fall quickly,

J ſhall die ere it rain Larks. Who could

to have his goods confiſcate thus

the blind puppy Plutus!Well, young Cerberus,

hire the Furies to pull out thy eyes,

once more put thee to the trade of ſtumbling.

This is a Raſcal deſerves to ride up Holborn,

take a pilgrimage to the triple-tree,

dance in Hemp DerricksCaranto:

choke him with Welch Parſley.

Good friend be mercifull, choke me

Puddings and a Rope of Sauſages,

I wil thank you here and after death;

I ſhall die I fear for want of choaking.

is the god that promiſed golden mountains

us all: is this the gold he gives me?

has not left me coyn enough to purchaſe

meſſe of Pottage, like my brother Eſau.

and Dudley,happy were you two

the prime Sequeſtrators of your age,

you were hang’d before this day of famine.

pine and ſtarve, live to outlive my ſelf,

Ghoſt before J die. Blinde fornicator

hath ſequeſtred the Sequeſtrator.

J tell thee out of zeal to th’ Cauſe thou lyest.

So my good zealous Brother of ignorance,

what ſayes your AmſterdamNoſe? you think

every man turns Factor for the Divel,

Reprobate, that comes not every night

hear your fine reformed Basket-maker

in his Wicker Pulpit: you ſhall not think

have my money thus, you ſhall not think it.

any longer here, mutter again,

J will make thy pretty Brotherly ſoule

ſnuffling through thy ſanctified noſtrils.

Nevergood,J know was alwayes fierce

Yes indeed sir, for now my Panch is empty;

have you know, J have an excellent ſtomach.

J will do what J can to make this fleſh

have a Combat with this furious ſpirit.

Gogle,do you ſee this Heretick

he triumphs againſt the Lay-preaching Brother-hood?

to him man, and beat him.

’Tisa strong Reprobate. He would ſequeſter me

J not for the Cauſe. J will not touch him,

will defile my pureſt hands; he is

lump of vile corruption. Breathe th’ other way;

very breath’s infectious, and it ſmels

if thou hadſt caught the Pox of the Whore of Babylon.

So ſir, you dare not fight.

J will not fight. It is thy policy to have me fight,

J might kill thee, and pollute my hands

ſwinish blood. No, no, J will not fight

make my ſelf unſanctified.

will diſpute with thee, Noſe against noſe,

valiantly J dare to ſnuffle with thee,

the defence of ſilver-purified.

Would Plutushad no better Champion to defend him!

ſuch as onely ſnuffle in the Cauſe.

would preſume by my own proper valour

make a breach into the ſtrongest Cupboard,

it as ſtrong as Baſing-houſeor Briſtol.

Avant thou Synagog of iniquity,

ſee thou art oth’ Popiſh tribe: Neceſſity

make thy Guts take Purgatory pennance,

thee to ſhrift and ſhift, makes thy teeth obſerve

Fridayes, prophane faſting-dayes,

Lent and Antichriſtian Emberweeks.

Tis much againſt my conſcience, my devotion

toward the Kitchen.If J change my faith,

will turn fat Preſbyter or Anabaptiſt.

never loved this hereſie of faſting,

has put me out of Commons. Yet my Noſe

the delicious odour of Roaſt-beef.

What doeſt thou ſmel?

J ſay, J ſmell ſome Cavaliers Roaſt-beef.

Out on thee Varlet, J warrant thoud’ſt fain ſequeſter it.

the deſpaire of dining vex thee thus,

can acquaint thee with a liberall Duke

keeps an open houſe.

Jcharge thee by the love thou beareſt thy ſtomack,

all the happineſſe of eating puddings,

every Pie thou meaneſt to eat at Chriſtmaſſe,

tell me who—

Nowout upon thee for a roguiſh Heretick!

not a Chrſstmas, tis a Nativity Pie.

ſuperstitious name, J know, is baniſht

of all England, Holley and Ivie too.

Why?go to Pauls, Duke Humphreywants a gueſt;

his Rooms now be clean from Souldiers Horſe-dung,

you may ſtay and walk your bellyful:

your ſelf welcome, never pay your Ordinary,

ſay no Grace, but thank your ſelf for hunger.

Omiſery of men, that J the health

lover of my Country ſhould thus pine

die for want of Porredge! See you Chimney,

ſweet perfumes, what comfortable ſmoke

breaths; that very ſmoke doth ſmel of Mutton.

J ſhall die, and all the Worms will curſe me

bringing ſo lean a carcaſſe to the grave.

Anſwer to me.

What,to those narrow Breeches?

Donot prophane my Breeches. For theſe Breeches

tell thee were in faſhion in the Primitive Church.

to me.

Whatwill you Catechiſe me?

Artthou a Farmer?

No,heaven forbid, J am not mad,

live by Dung and Horſe-turds.

Artthou a Merchant?

’FaithJ can walk the Exchange,

on an Indian face, ſpit China faſhion,

of new-found Worlds, call Drakea Gander,

if they heare news of my Fleet of Ships

ſail’d by land through Spainto the Antipodes

fetch WeſtphaliaBacon. J can diſcourſe

shorter wayes to th’ Indies,ſpend my judgment

the plantation of the Summer Iſles.

GuianaVoyage, deam of plots,

bring Argierby ſhipping unto Dover.

of Prince Rupert’sships, and how the Pope

make St. Dunſtandraw the Devil to th’ Peak,

make him kiſſe his own Breech.

can J talk with Merchants, in the cloſe

my ſelf to Dinner at their houſes,

borrow money ne’re to be repaid

the return of my ſilver Fleet from Perſia.

Now fie upon thee, haſt thou no vocation,

honeſt calling? then art thou not a Lawyer?

No faith, J am not;yet know a trick

bring my neighbours into needleſſe ſuits,

undertake their actions: make ’um pay

ſuch a motion at the Dogs-head tavern

mark or two; diſburſe a peece or two

Affidavitsat the Mitre: ſell ’um

twenty ſhillings an Injunction,

of Rebellion,Chancery Decrees,

Nisi prius,or a Latitat.

Poor ſouls, they have very hard words for their money.

When this is done, I ſit and laugh at them:

they may buy a Writ of Execution

go and hang themſelves. For J feed on them

the Term long, live with them in Vacation,

them by Bils of Return.

Vile Raſcal, haſt thou no other ſhift?

Faith yes, ſometimes

feed on One and twenties, cheat young Heirs,

them acquainted with ſome cozening Scrivener,

eaſe them of the burthen of too much earth.

I woe old widowes, go a ſuitting

the thirds of an Aldermans eſtate;

prick up my ſelf & grow familiar

the proud wealthy Citizens wanton wives,

by the fortitude of my back maintain

back and belly.

O ſink of ſin, and boggards of corruption!

thou no honeſt calling?

Yes J have: J know a trick to ſnuffle at Bell-Ally,

at the Steeple-houſes, and the Popiſh Biſhops,

the Tithe-ſcraping Prieſts, Sir-John-Preſbyters.

Out on thee Villain, foe to the holy Caſſocks.

do remember thee in the Archbiſhops time,

madeſt me ſtand ith Popiſh pillory

Prinand Burton,only for ſpeaking

little ſanctified treason.

But we will be reveng’d; we’ll have him drag’d

all the town by Alewives, and then hang’d up

a Sign-poſt, for conſpiring with

Giles Mompeſſons, in the perſecution

innocent Tapſters.

Come, ſeeing he has no zeale nor ardent love,

strip him naked, till he freeze & grow

cold as Charity.

What will you plunder me? where’s your warrant Ho?

ſanctified thieves, plunder: yet J ſhall live

ſee my little Anabaptiſt come

his twelve Godfathers, thence to the Ladder;

having noſed a tedious Pſalm or two

holy hemp muſt gird your ſanctified wind-pipe,

you in honour of the righteous cauſe

a wry-mouth ſalute the ſoules at Paddington,

turn a Tyburn-Saint.

Pull off his profane and irreligious Doubler,

his Breeches, excommunicate

impious Shirt: there’s not a rag about him,

is heretical, full of Babylon lice,

the foul ſmock of Austria.

So, do it if you dare: that J may live

ſee your fine preciſe Geneva-Breeches

in the Hang-mans wardrobe. Ho bear witneſſe.

Nay faith your witneſſe is not here: a Mandrake

frighted him: the hue and cry was up

time to truſt the ſafety of his neck

the ſwiftneſſe of his heels. Come, come,

So now AnaniasGogle

me your cloak to cloak this Sycophant.

My cloak! his Romiſh carkaſſe ſhall not be arraied

theſe pure innocent robes: ſhall any baſtards

the vile generation of Pope Ioan

my cloak, that has theſe thirteen years

my belovep noſe, whoſe very ſnot

reverenct by the brethren? No, he may bring

garments to the Maſſe, prophane um there,

make my cloak a reprobate, and commit

with the ſeven hills: beſides,

is an Idol;and I verily think

were idolatry to let this cloak

a Pagan. No, good cloak, nere turn

from the faith of Amſterdam.

cloak, be not a-kin to Iuliansjerkin:

thou be thred-bare, thou ſhalt nere be turn’d;

no, ’tis fitter Plutushave thee.

No, Plutusſhall have this, ’tis freſh and new:

cloak is thred-bare; your too fervent zeale

almost made it tinder.

What, Plutushave his cloak! Oh ’tis the ſkin

a pernicious ſnake. O Popery!

profane Cope, or the Levitical ſmock,

mean a Surpliſſe, is not more unlawful.

As it is now: But wipe your noſe on’t thrice,

ſanctified; you know the brotherly ſnot

enthuſiaſtique operations in’t.

I am perſwaded. Let him have it then.

what ſhall be decreed of my upright ſhooes?

Wee’ll hang them on his head. How his Brow-antlers

their furniture! By S. Hughs bones,

looks like the very ghoſt of a ſhoomakers ſhop.

O ſwear not by St. Hugh, that canoniz’d Cobler.

holy brother, let us drag him hence.

Do, Scundrels, do: but if I once come a ſequeſtring,

go to Dr. Fauſtus,true ſon and heir

Belzebub, whom the great Devil begot

a Succubus, on Midſummer Eve,

Hell was ſowing Fernſeed.This D. Fauſtus

Mepiaſtophoiusof his age, the wonder

the ſole Aſmodaeusof his times,

by his Necromantick skill (Fortune my foe)

the Black-art lend me his Termagant,

Almegroth, or Cantimelopus,

some Familiar elſe an houre or two.

Ile to Phlegeton,and with him drink

cup of Hells Filapdragon, and returning

fire and brimſtone into Plutusface,

roaſt the rotten apples of his eyes

Stygian flames that I revomitize.

Nev.

We fear not Dr. Fauſtus:his Landlord Lucifer

that his Leaſe with him is out of date;

will he let him longer tenant be

the twelve Houſes of Aſtrologie.

Let Dr. Fauſtusdo his worſt. Let me ſee if this Termagant can help you to yourClothes again.

Anus.

But ſtay, what worm-eaten Hag is this? Holy brother, let’s away toBo-peep, we ſhall be ſeen elſe. Do you not perceive that oldBeldame of Lapland, that looks as if ſhe had ſail’d thither in anegg-ſhell, with a wind in the corner of her handkercher? I am not ſomuch afraid of Dr. Fauſtus,as of that witch of Endor.

Gogle, Carion.

4. Scæn. 3.

ſola.

Hey ho! methinks Iam ſick with lying alone laſt night. Well, I will ſcratch out theeyes of this ſame raſcally Plutusgod of wealth, that has undone me. Alas poor woman! ſince the ſhopof Plutushis eyes has been open, what abundance of miſery has befallen thee!Now the young Gallant will no longer kiſſe thee nor imbrace thee:but thou poor widow muſt lie comfortleſſe in a ſolitary pair ofſheets, having nothing to cover thee but the lecherous Rug and thebawdy Blankets. O that J were young again! how it comforts me toremember the death of my maidenhead! Alas poor woman, they contemnold age, as if our lechery was out of date. They ſay we are cold:methinks that thought ſhould make um take compaſſion of us, andlie with us, if not for love, for charity. They ſay we are dry: ſomuch the more capable of Cupids fire; while young wenches, like greenwood, ſmoke before they flame. They ſay we are old: why thenexperience makes us more expert. They tell us our lips are wrinkled:why that in kiſſing makes the ſweeter titillation. They ſweare wehave no teeth: why then they need not fear biting. Well, if our leaseof Lechery be out, yet me-thinks we might purchaſe a Night-labourerfor his dayes-wages. I will be reveng’d of this ſame Plutus,that wrongs the orphans, and is so uncharitable to the widows. Ho,ho, who’s within here!

Scrape-all.

Who’s there?

A maid againſt her will this fourſcore years. Goddy-godden, goodfather: pray which is the houſe where Plutuslives?

Marry follow your noſe, you may ſmell out the door, my littledamſel of fifteen,butfifteen times over. In my pinion, this young Laſſe would make apretty Maidmairian in a Comedy to be preſented before Plutus.

Now god ſave all. By your leave ſweet Grandſire! J will call forthſome of the houſe.

What need that? cannot J ſerve the turn?

No marry can you not. Nay, as old as J am, J will not beſtow mywidows maiden-head at ſecond hand on ſuch a froſty Neſtor.J will have Marchor April;J ſcorn to commit fornication with December.

Nay good Autunme,do not miſ-conceive me: J aſkt if J could not bear in your errandor no. But J ſee master Chremyluscoming.

Chremylus.

Alas good ſir! J have endured the moſt unjuſt and unſufferableinjuries, ſince Plutushas regained his eye-ſight, as ever poor woman did ſince the dayesof Queen Edmund.Alas ſir, life is not life without natural recreation.

How’s this? some Promooter of the feminine gender!

No by my chaſtity, but an honeſt matron of Turn-bull,that have paid ſcot and lot there theſe fourſcore yeers, yet neverwas ſo abuſed as now.

What abuſe?

Unſufferable abuſe, intolerable injuries.

Speak, what injuries?

An injury unſpeakable.

What is it?

Alas ſir, tis lying alone. O the miſery of lying alone! would J hadbeen below ground ere J had ſeen this minute of adverſity. AhTurnbul-Grove,ſhall J never more be beholding to thy charitable ſhades! Ah ’twasa good world when the Nuneries ſtood: Oh their charitable thoughtsthat took ſo much compaſſion on poor women, to found ſuch zealousbawdy-houſes! Had not Cromwelbeen an Eunuch, he had never perſwaded the deſtruction of ſuchplaces ſet up for ſuch uſes. ’Twas a good world too in the dayesof Queen Mary:a poor woman might have deſired a kindneſſe from a luſty Friar inauricular confeſſion. But Plutuseyes are like Basilisks,they ſtrike us dead with adverſity.

What ails this Skin-ful of Lechery? alas poor Granam, doſt thougrieve becauſe thou wanteſt money to go drink with thy goſſips!

Ah do not mock me ſir: ’tis love, parlous love that has ſoenflamed my heart with Bavins of deſire, that J am afraid he willmake me the very bone-fire of affection.

What meant the knaviſh Cupid to ſet this old Chark-coal on fire?

Ile tell you ſir: there was a young Gallant about the town, oneNeanias.

J know him.

He being a younger brother, had no lands in taile-tenure, butCity-widows. He was but poor; but as fine a well-favour’dGentleman, it did me good at heart to look on him. J miniſtred thoſethings he wanted; and he recompenced my kindneſſe in mutual love:as I ſupplied his wants, ſo he ſuccored my neceſſities with allpoſſible activity: Iwouldnot have changed him for Stamford,though he jump’d the beſt in London.

And what did this pretty Pimp uſually beg of you?

Not much: for he reverenced me wonderfully, partly for love, butmore for venerable antiquity. Sometime he would beg a Cloak.

To cover his knavery.

Sometimes a pair of Boots.

To exerciſe his horſmanship.

Sometimes a Peck or two of Corn.

For which he paid a bushel of affection.

Now and then a Kirtle for his ſiſter, a Petticoat and French-hoodfor his mother. Not much: all the good turns I did him in the day,the conſcionable Youth requited ere midnight.

This was nothing indeed: it ſeems he did reverence you, (as youſay) partly for love, but more for your venerable antiquity.

Nay, he would tell me too, that he did not aſk theſe things for hismid-night wages, but only in love. He would not endure to wear anything, but what I paid for, out of a meer deſire to remember me.

This was infinite affection! Could he not endure to wear anything butwhat you paid for? ’Twas dear love this, pretty love tricks ’faith;you may ſee, how the wanton youth was enflamed with your beauty.

I but now, the unconſtant Wag has not the same meaſure of reſpect;I ſent him a Cuſtard yeſterday, and he would not accept of it,because it quaked like my worm-eaten—. I ſent him other ſweetmeatstoo, but he return’d me anſwer, that certainly J had breath’d onthem, for they ſmelt of my Gums. Moreover, he bid me deſpaire of anight-labourer, and never more expect him at mid-night again. ForPlutushas made him rich without me; adding withall, That once J was young:Oſtendwas once a pretty town. The Milesiansin the dayes of yore were valiant: and in the dayes of King Henrythe Engliſh were ſturdy fellows at the battell of Agin-Court.

Faith, J commend the ſtripling for his wit. Tis none of the worſtconditions. Now he is rich, he will have the beſt and plumpeſtCockatrice of the City; when he was poore he was content withPorredge. There be many of that profeſſion, that maintainthemſelves by hugging the ſkin and bones of an Aldermans widow.

I, but earst, he would have come everyday to my door.

Perchance a begging.

No, onely to hear the melody of my voice.

Like enough, Jt could not chooſe but pleaſe him to hear whatexcellent Muſick your Jews-trump could make, now all your teeth areout.

If he had but ſeen me ſad and melancholly, he would have kiſſedme with ſuch a feeling of my ſorrow, and have call’d me his Chuckand Helena.

’Twasonely to have one of Leda’sEgs to his Supper.

How oft has he prais’d my fingers?

Twas when he lookt for ſomething at your hands.

Many a time has he ſworn that my ſkin ſmelt ſweeter then aMuk-cat.

He meant a Pole-cat: did you not believe him? Twas when his Noſefirst ſmelt of Hippocraſſe,or elſe the perfume of your white-leather was ſo ſtrong, he couldnot endure it.

O how it comforts me to remember how he would call my eyes prettyſparkling ones.

Twas cauſe they pinckt like the ſnuff of a Candle. Faith theGentleman had his wits about him: he knew how to get the old wivesproviſion, the Viaticum ſhe had prepared to carry her to Graveſend.

Therefore, my friend, Plutusis to blame to promiſe relief, when he does us ſuch intolerabledamages. How do you think J can endure to lie alone, when ſo manyſprights are walking? How ſhall J keep off the Nightmare, or defendmy ſelf againſt the temptations of an Incubus.

Alas good Relique of antiquity! pay thy Fine and take a new Leaſe ofLuſt. Faith J pitty thee; what would’ſt thou have him do if hewere here?

Marry, that ſince J have deſerved ſo well of him, that he doe meone kindeneſſe for another. Good old Gentlemen, either let himreſtore me my goods, or ſtand to his bargain. The Conditions notperformed, the Obligation is of none effect: my Lawyer reſolves me,J may recover of him.

Noverintuniverſi per praeſentes,your Lawyer is a Coxcomb. Did he not doe his duty every night? Jwarrant you, he had aslieve have tugged at an Oare as a —–. Inmy minde, he has performed his part of the Obligation.

But he promiſed never to forſake me as long as J lived.

No more he has not; why? thou art now dead: Thy fleſh is mortified,onely thy impotent luſt has outlived thee a twelve moneth or two.Thou art but a meer Carkaſſe, nothing but Worms-meat.

Indeed grief has almoſt me’ted me into duſt and aſhes.Half-putrified J walk up and down like the picture of Deaths-head ina charnel-houſe. But ſee yonder’s my Gameſter, my Cock oth’game: he’s marching to ſome banquet or other: ‘tisShrove-Tueſdaywith him, but Lentwith me. O grief, to be bound from fleſh!

It ſeems he is going to a feaſt, by his torch and garland.

Neanias.

NeaniasIle kiſſe the old Hag no more,

  Shehas no moiſture in her:

Ifever I lie with a Laſſe ere I die,

  Itſhall be a youthful ſinner.

Giveme a Laſſe that is young,

  Iask no greater bleſſing:

Ilenere lie agen with Fourſcore and ten,

  Acarkaſſe not worth the preſſing.

Iwill not imbrace her again,

  Toſet the Town on a ſcoffing:

Ilenever make more Death-widdow a Whore,

 Andcuckold the innocent Coffin.

this? Good morrow Venus,O good morrow

Duck, old Helen!Tell me, ſweet Helen,

haſt thou done this three thouſand year young Pullet!

haſt thon done ere ſince the warres of Troy?

the Cuckold Menelaus caſt his horns?

what old goat is this? Tis Agamemnon.

Agamemnon,is your Clytemaestra

old as Helen?Tell me, old Helen,tell me,

do the lecherous wormes and thee begin

act adultery in the winding-ſheets?

What ſayes my Duck; wouldſt have me go to bed?

What, my old Sweetheart! How comeſt thou gray ſo ſoon?

canſt not be ſo gray; J will not ſuffer’t,

will not be deceived, J will pull off

cozening Perriwig.

So ſir: J was not gray when J gave you my Smock off my back to makeyou Night-caps. You ſwore J could not be above fifteen, when Itranſlated my Stammel-Petticoat into the maſculine gender, to makeyour Worſhip a paire of Scarlet-breeches.

I ſhall never abide an Almanack while I live:

IulianAccount’s an arrant Coxcombe;

the Biſſextile is an arrant Villain.

will curſe every Biſſextile in the County of Europe.

couldſt not poſſibly be gray ſo ſoon,

a hundred Leap-years had conſpired

jump together, to make thee old oth’ ſudden.

He talks as if he had not ſeen you ſince the Conquest:

many Jubilees paſt ſince he was laſt with you?

Now fie upon him! How long do you say? ’Tis no longer thenyeſterday, by the faith of a woman, ſince he had the fruition ofme, and ſwore J was as young as Hecuba.

Then it is not with him as it is with others: for being drunk, hehath the uſe of his eyes more perfect then when he was ſober.

No, the peevish fellow, now he is drunk, he ſees double, and thinksme twice as old as J am.

O Neptune,and the other gray-bearded gods,

you with all the Arithmetique of heaven

the wrincles of this Beldames forehead?

many ruts and furrows in thy cheek

thy old face to be but Champion-ground,

with the plough of age, well muckt with ſluttery:

time for thy luſt to lie ſallow now.

any man endure to ſpend his youth

kiſſing winters frozen lips? can veines

ſwell with active blood, endure th’ embraces

ſuch cold ice? Go and prepare thy coffin,

on thy winding-ſheet. When I was poor,

limbs and empty guts perſwaded me

lie with skin and bones. Neceſsity,

cruel as Mezentiustyranny,

me commit adultery with a carkaſſe,

putrified Corps, a Bawd oth’ Charnel-houſe.

now good duſt and aſhes, pardon me,

arms ſhall never more imbrace thy corps.

ſtewes of clay, thou mud-wall of mortality,

rot and moulder; and if thy impotent luſt

needs be ſatisfied, know Hell is a hot-houſe,

ſome hot-rein’d devil may undertake thee;

lend a halfpeny to pay Charonsboat-hire.

I will now chooſe me a good plump Laſs,

moiſt as April,and as hot as May,

Damask-check ſhall make the Roſes bluſh,

lips at every kiſſe ſhall ſtrike a heat

my veins, breathing through all my ſoul

aire as warm and ſweet as the perfumes

ſmoaking riſe from the dead Phœnixneſt.

come my boon Companions,

Andlet us jovial be:

th Indiesbe the King of Spains,

Weare as rich as he.

rich as any King of Spain,

Inmirth, if not in wealth:

fill me then a bowl of Sack,

Iledrink my Miſtreſſe health.

Miſtreſſe is but fifteen,

HerLips is all my bliſſe:

tell her I will come at night,

Andthen prepare to kiſſe.

my ſhe-Neſtormay go ſnort the while,

kiſſe your Monky. I will take my torch,

her on fire, and let her ſmoke to Acheron.

O fire, fire! ſhall I die no better a death then the top ofPauls-ſteeple?

Nay take heed how you set your torch too neer her; One ſpark willſet her a flaming, for ſhe is made up of Salt-petre, verygun-powder well dried & ready pruned, meer touch-wood, and as dryas any tavern-bush.

’Tis true, ſhe’ll quickly take; the fire of luſt

turnt her into tinder, ſome of hells brimſtone,

to make matches, and ſhe e’ll fit the Devil

a whole tinder-box. Come my dainty Girl,

us be friends; why ſhould we two fall out?

be not angry, I do love thee better

water-gruel: Come, let’s play together.

Now bleſsing on thy heart! What play ſhall we play, that which weplaid at t’other night?

Here, take these Nuts.

Alas my hony, Iam paſt cracking.

They are to play with.

What play?

Even or odde, gueſſe you.

What ſhall Igueſſe?

How many teeth there be in thy head.

Ile gueſſe for her; perchance three or foure.

Then you have left, pay your nuts: ſhe has but one,

o’re-worne grinder; ’tis a gentle beaſt,

has forgot to bite: Good innocent gums,

cannot hurt; — No danger in her mouth,

she eat Brawn. — Her charitable tongue,

the old Rebels of Northampton-ſhire,

endure hedges of teeth ſhould ſtand

make her mouth incloſure.

Well ſir, you may abuſe me: but by Cock and Pye, (god forgive methat I ſhould ſwear) were I as young as I have been, theſe nailesthat by a good token have not been pared ſince eighty eight, ſhouldhave ſcratcht your face till it had been a dominical one, and asfull of red letters as any PondsAlmanack in Chriſtendome, ’twere ſuitable to your prognoſticatingNoſe. J think you are mad; would any but an Orlandoor Ieronymohave uſed a poor woman ſo? Do you think I will endure to be yourbucking-tub to be waſht with the dregs of your wit?

He did you a courteſie, that would waſh you ſoundly.

O by no means: why ſhe is painted Sir.

you ſhould waſh her, then my Ladies fucus

drop away; her Cerusand Pomatum

rub’d off, would to the world betray

rugged wrincles of her ſlabber’d face.

but the white-lome from this old mud-wall,

ſhe will look worſe then GamalielRatſey.

Are you a Bedlam too, old froſty Squire?

you fourſcore, and yet your wit an infant

come to age? Come, I will be your Guardian.

beats him.

Good Mr. Neanias,ſweet young maſter,

you do not ſave me from this Meduſa,

Gorgonshead will turn me to a Stone-bottle,

then throw me at my ſelf, to make me beat out my own brains.

Nay take her to your ſelf, old impudent Goat,

ravish a Maid before her Sweet-hearts face,

most inhumane! Yet you may do’t for me,

will resign my intereſt: ſo farewell.

joy unto you both. O Hymen,Hymen,

a fine couple of ſweet Loves are here,

keep their wedding in the grave, and get

ſonne and heire for Doomſday—

No prethee do not think ſo, J ſweare by VenusJ would have none but thee, though Pegasusand Bucephaluscame a wooing to me.

Yes you may have him: yet J cannot leave thee

a teare to quench my flames of love.

weeps.

now farewell: live happy in his love,

and Cupidbleſſe your marriage-ſheets,

let you ſnort this hundred yeares together.

grieve the while, and Sacks beſt vertue try,

drown my cares: ſorrow (you know) is dry.

Nay by Hecateyou ſhall not put a trick on me thus. J have not out-lived my wits:J were mad if J would run my ſelf into another Scylla,having ſuch a dangerous Charybdisof my own at home. Good Mr. Neanias,J did not think ſhe had been your miſtreſſe: J will not for allthe world do you ſuch a wrong as to be your Corrival: love her alonefor me.

Yes to be dor’d. Good wickedneſſe, no more:

not intreat me to endure the nooſe;

ſhall go marry her, be the fool her husband,

you will come and kiſſe her; ſend your men,

Serving-men to fox me in your cellar,

you the while ſhall cuckold me at home:

what a brave Actaeonſhould J be!

have you nere a journy-man, or Baily

put her off to? or, if all fail, no Chaplain?

am no free-man, therefore the City-charter

not grant me the priviledge of ſuch harneſſe;

beare your Cap of maintenance your ſelf.

Come leave this jesting, ile endure’t no longer;

will not let you hate this pretty Laſſe.

life it may prove her death: Theſe wantongirles

very ſubject to eat chalk and coals.

too much grief for you, with thoughts of love,

chance to generate the green-ſickneſſe in her.

Nay, I do love her dearly, wondrous dearly,

eyes are CupidsGrubſtreet:The blinde archer

his love-arrows there; bright Glo-worms eyes,

rotten-wood out-ſhines their glorious luſtre,

would J kiſſe her.

Faith and thou ſhalt my little peri-winckle.

No, heaven me bleſſe!

am not worthy of ſuch happineſſe.

Yet ſhe accuses you.

How, accuses me? what hainous fault,

ſinne, what ſacriledge have J committed

the reliquies of her martyr’d beauty?

You mocked her, ſhe ſayes, you told her, The Mileſianswere valiant in the daies of yore. Faith do not hit her in the teethwith contumelious proverbs.

Hit her ith’ teeth, why ‘tis impoſſible:

her i’th’ gums we may, but no man living

hit her in the teeth with any thing.

not fight for her, take her to your ſelf:

Pray good ſir.

J reverence your age; tis your gray haires

are ſuch potent ſuitors, ’twere a ſinne

deny any thing to a ſnow-white head.

elſe but only you ſhould have obtained her;

rejoyce, be gone, and ſtink together.

J know your meaning, you are weary of your ſtale Whore, you dealewith her even as they doe with horſes, when they are no longer fitfor the Saddle, turn them over to the Carmen.

J will not live with any but with thee.

But what an Aſſe am J thus long to talk

an old Bawd, that loſt her maiden-head

two thouſand years before Deucalionsflood,

living as long a Whore,turn Bawd in the daies of King Lud?

Nay, ſince you have drunk of the Wine, you muſt be content with theLees.

J but her Lees are bitter, ſowre as Verjuyce,

Vinegar, Vinegar; J will ſell her

two pence a quart, Vinegar, Vinegar, in a Wheel-barrow.

will go in & ſacrifice my garland to Plutus.

Jle go in too, J have ſome buſineſſe with Plutus.

But now J think on’t, J will not go in.

My buſineſſe is not much, J care not greatly,

J ſtay with thee.

Come young man, be of good courage, ſhe cannot raviſh thee.

J believe that too.

Go in, Jle follow thee ith’ heels, J warrant thee.

She ſticks to him as cloſe as a Cockle.

Come Beldame follow me,

Andin my foot-ſteps tread.

Thenſet up ſhop in Turnbull-ſtreet

Andturn a Bawd ere thou art dead.

Andwhen thou art dead;

Thisſhall of thee be ſaid,

Thoulived’ſt a Whore, and died’ſt a Bawd,

Jnhell the Devil’s Chamber-maid.

5. Scæn. 1.

knocking.

Who’s this that knocks, the doore ſo hard! what, no body? Can theywalk inviſible? Ile lay my life this is a peece of St. Dunſtansghoſt that puls me by the Noſe ſo? Good ghoſt miſtake me not, Jam not the Devil, J am honeſt Carion every inch on me. Well, I ſeethe doores can cry for nothing, I ſee no body, Ile go in again.

So ho, ho, ho, Carion,Carion,Carionſtay, I ſay ſtay.

Stay let my Noſe alone, ’twill abide no jeaſting; Sir, was ityou, that was ſo ſawcy with my maſters doors to knock them ſoperemptorily? they ſhall bring an action of battery againſt you.

If you had not come quickly, Iwould have broke them open. Go run, call forth your maſter andmiſtreſſe, the men and the maids, your ſelf, the Dog and theBitch, the Cat and the Kitlins, the Sow and the Pigs.

My maſter and miſtreſſ, the baſtards their children, the menand the maids, my ſelf, the Dog and the Bitch, the Cat and Kitlins Iwill call forth: but the Sow and Pigs would deſire you to have themexcuſed, they are not at leaſure. Why what’s the matter?

Why Iupiterwill put you all into a ſack together, and toſſe you intoBarathrum,terrible Barathrum.

Barathrum,what’s Barathrum?

Why Barathrumis Pluto’sboggards: you muſt be all thrown into Barathrum.

I had rather the meſſenger were you know what. Mercury, why whatwrong have we done Iupiter?I remember he has many a time ſowr’d our drink with his thundring,but we have done him no injury, but once Ibroke his ſhins at football in Tuttle.

’Tis worse then ſo; y’are guilty of a ſinne

hell would fear to own. Since Eſculapius

Urinal, reſtored god Plutuseyes,

have almoſt forgot to ſacrifice:

they were wont to offer Haſty-puddings,

and many dainties; nay Iknow

that have ſpent whole Hecatombs of Beef

give the gods their gawdies: now they’d be glad

eat the very breweſſe of the pottage;

rump or flap of mutton were a fee

Iovesown breakfaſt; for a rib of beef,

it ſmelt of every Gippo’s ſcabby fingers,

any Scullion be chief Cook of heaven.

have Iſay forgot to ſacrifice.

And ſhall: Beggerly Iovedoes not deſerve it.

never did us good: we are not beholding

any of your louzy gods. Old Plutus,

has purchaſed our devotion,

is the Saint we reverence.

Nay faith I care not for the other gods,

them go ſtink and ſtarve; let Cuckold Vulcan

earn his meat by making ſpits and dripping-pans,

with his Tinkers budget and his Trull

may mend one hole and make ten for it.

Phoebusturn Welsh-Harper, go a begging,

ſing St.Taffiefor a Barley-cruſt.

Cupidgo to Grubstreet,and turn Archer:

may set up at Pict-hatchor Bloomsbury;

turn Oyſter-quean, and ſcold at Billinſgate;

may make a Drawer at a tavern,

for Canary for the man ith’ moon.

has been alwayes poore: Braine-baſtards

never borne to many lands. Great Iove

pawn his thunder-bolts for oaten-cakes.

them I care not, but theſe guts of mine:

it not pitty Mercuryshould pine?

Nay now I ſee thou haſt ſome wit in thy Pericranium.

Whilome the Ale-wives and the fat-bum’d Hoſteſles

give me jugs of Ale without Exciſe,

to the brim, no nick nor froth uponthem:

they’d make me Froizes and Flap-jacks too,

me with Puddings, give me broken-meat

many dainty morſels for to eat.

ſhall I never more begreaſe my chops

glorious bits of Bacon! ſhall Mercurius

forth his legs for want of Buttermilk!

Nay this injustice thou deſerv’st to ſee,

injuring thoſe that have done good for thee.

Alack and welladay,

I never the Cuſtard ſee,

the fourth day of every moneth

conſecrate unto me?

Alack and welladay,

vain douſt thou pray as I feare:

Cuſtard is a deaf god,

cannot ſo quickly heare.

If Cuſtard cannot heare,

Shoulder of mutton to me,

alſo with pudding-pies,

a meſſe of Furmentie.

Alack poor Mercury!

thy case J do much condole.

never ſhalt ſteale again any meale

Spitchcock at Hockly-ith’-hole.

faith, since Thieving is out of faſhion (Doeſt remember when thouſtoleſt Apollo’sSpectacles and Vulcans Crutches?) learn to beg. Suppoſe I am a richGentleman, and thou a lame fellow; perchance I may be in the humourto give thee ſomething.

Kinde Gentleman, for the Loords ſake beſtow ſomething on a poorlame Cripple, that has halted before his beſt friends upward anddownward, any time this dozen years: this leg, ile ſtand to it, hasbeen lame ever ſince the laſt dearth of corn, god be with it.heavenpreſerve your limbs, Iovekeep your feet out oth’ ſetters, your legs out oth’ ſtocks,your heads out ot’h pillory, your necks out oth’ halters, andother ſuch infirmities poor mortality is ſubject to. May you neverknow what ’tis to want till you are in poverty. Good Gentlemen,take compaſſion on a wretched mortal, that has been troubled with adeadneſſe in his arms, that he has not had the lawfull uſe of hishands in picking and ſtealing this many houres.

Sirra, sirra, you must have the laſh;

have you whipt for a vagrant perſon.

This is a Juſtice of Peace’s charity: if this be that you’d bein the humour to give, pray keep it to your ſelf.

Faith act a poor Souldier: men are charitable to men of arms.

A word with you generous ſir.Noble ſir, thou ſeemeſt to be a manof worſhip, and J am one that have ſeen the face of the enemy in mydayes, and ventred a bloody noſe in defence of my country. Good ſir,lend me a Crown till the next taking of Baſing-houſe,and by all the cold iron about me, you ſhall be preſently paid uponthe ſurrender. Noble Gentleman, do not make known my necessities; Iwould have ſcorn’d to have aſkt ſuch a kindneſſe of Hoptonor Montroſſe;I had rather have ſtarved in the leaguer, and fed upon nothing butſword and buckler; and yet Hoptonis a noble fellow, many a timber-peece have J ſpent in his company.

What ſervice haſt thou been in?

Hot ſervice ſir, ſupping at the very mouth of the Martialporredge-pot, J have ſcall’d my lips with kiſſing valour. Didyou never hear how J routed a Regiment of OrmondsFoot?

Never ſir, how J pray?

Sir, by this good ſword if it be not true, J am an arrant liar, andnever ſaw the wars in my life. Sir, J advanced my ſpear, ran with afurious tilt at them, and unhorſed every man.

Of the Regiment of Foot.

You are in the right ſir, ’twas by a metaphor. Then ſir theEnſigns of my reputation being diſplaied; a valiant Frenchman, hewas born at Madridin Spain——

By a metaphor.

Challeng’d me the duel at Back-ſword: we met at the first thruſtof the Rapier.

By a metaphor.

He ſhot me clean through the body.

By a metaphor ſtill, the Rapier ſhot you through.

On my credit ſir, ’twas a musket-bullet: for when the Fort ſaw mehave the beſt on’t, they levell’d a Canon at me ready charged.

By a metaphor, with a musket-bullet.

And ſhot off both my arms. That being done, J caught him by thethroat with my right hand.

When your arms were off.

Drew out my weapon with my left, and cut off his head. J wasproceeding to have run him thorow, but he askt my pardon, and I wasmercifull and ſaved his life.

When his head was off.

You will not believe me now, if the ſelf ſame man be as live as J.Prince Rupertknows what ſervice I did at Marſton-moorewhen J run away. But now to be contemned! O Poverty, foe to Valour!

Thy valour? Thou look’ſt as if thou hadſt no ſtomack at all.

Would J had a roaſted Oxe to encounter with. J have ſhewed myvalour in Bohemia againſt the Imperialiſts, in Polandagainſt the Turks,in Hollandagainſt the Spaniards,in Utopiaagainſt the roundheads, and is it queſtioned in England?J was once a freſh-water ſouldier, but J was ſeaſoned at the ſaltIſle of Ree:there was my maſterpiece of valour.

What was that J pray?

Why ſir, J fought couragiouſly; J was in all the dangerousſervices, and had miſfortunes in all. Firſt ſir, J was drowned inthe landing, had both my Legs ſhot off in the aſſault, and ranaway in the retreat as all the reſt did.

How? when your Legs were ſhot off in the aſſault?

What of that? have J not Wings on my Doublet?

Why then, you did not run, you did but flie.

Flying is running away by a Metaphore.

Come thou wilt get nothing by this lying warfare. Let me try theGipſie.

From Ægypthave J come

WithSolomon for my guide:

ChiromantiesJ can tell

Whatfortunes thee betide.

Chaldeeme begot,

OldTalmudwas his name;

Hieroglyphicks he excell’d,

ThroughNilusran his fame.

let me ſee thy hand,

ThouWives haſt yet had none;

Baſtinadoes at a time

Aboutthreeſcore and one.

picks Carions pocket.

Well, thou art an arrant Gipſie: at what neighbours houſe didſtthou learn this? S’foot, how cameſt thou to know it? I had juſtthreeſcore and one indeed. Well, I will give thee ſomething: But OMercury,my Purſe! Plutushis bleſſing is run out of my Pockets. I will have you hanged, yourogue. There were ſeven thirteen-pence-half-penies, would have paidthe Hang-man for above half a dozen of you. Good Mercury, thou ſhaltſee what Ile doe for thee.

Well, if you will entertain me into your family, there’s yourPurſe again, and take heed how you meet with Gipſies.

Entertain thee? Why, what canſt thou doe?

Why, let me be your Porter. I have a Ianusheart, though not two faces.

A Porter! canſt thou grumble ſoundly at a rich mans gate to keepout the poore Almſmen? canſt thou bark like griſly Cerberus?No, ’twill not do, my Maſter needs no ſurley Bandogs, we ſhallkeep open houſe. The office of Porter is thruſt out of doores.

Make me your Merchant.

Wee dare not: Get you to the ſtreights of Gibraltar,we need no buſie Factors, we have wealth enough: we will have noMerchants, we ſhall not ſleep for them at nights, They will dreamof nothing but new America’s,drink the Canaries,ſnort out TerraIncognita’s,noſe the Bermudas,raviſh Virginia,talk of the fortunate Iſlands, or choke us up with Terradel Fogo’s.No, no, Iwill have none of our family walk like the Antipodeswith his heels upwards; if he ſhould fall headlong into heaven, hemight put out the Man in the moon’s candle, and leave him to findehis way to bed in the dark.

Let me be your Foole to make you merry.

A Fool! Let me ſee: we are all rich, and therefore likely we muſthave ſome fools amongſt us. But what need that, we have as good, wehave ſome of them that fortune favours.

Then let me be your Jugler.

Not for Zorobabels night-cap. Theſe Hocus-Pocuſſesſeldome come aloft for their maſters advantage. You think to pickour pockets by ſleight of hand, and ſhew us a trick for our mony: Jdo not like theſe feats of activity; therefore Prestobe gone, we will have no Juglers.

Then let me be your Poet: J’le make you Shewes and Maſques,Comedies and Tragedies, Paſtorals, Piſcatorial Sonnets, Canto’s,Madrigals and Ballads, till you are ſo tickled with laughter, thatyou cannot ſtand.

A Poet! no, ’tis a little too beggerly a trade; and ’tis aſoloecisme if wit ſhould meet with wealth in these dayes. Fieupon’t, I can’t endure jeſtings, Poetical furies, J had as lievethey ſhould break wind backward. Your rank wits will abuſe theirbetters. And for ſhowes, raſcally ſhowes, ’tis pitty they arenot hang’d for their impudence: There cannot be a groſſe ſin ina Congregation, but ſome mens vinegar-brains muſt be a rubbing ofit. J warrant if J ſhould but marry a Townſ-mans daughter to day,they’d make an Actaæ-onof me by to morrow, dub me Knight of the forked Order. Poor ſhallowſcundrels there be that never drank any Heliconabove a penny a quart, and yet venture to make Ballads as louſie asthemſelves. Wry-mouth’d villains, who cannot anſwer to thequeſtion, if they ſhould be asked how many of their empty Noddlesgo to the making up of a compleat Coxcomb. But yet J do love a ſhow,if it be a merry one. Well, thou ſhalt be our houſhold-Poet, forhouſhold-Chaplains are now out of date like old Almanacks; every mancan now ſay grace, and preach, and ſay prayers to themſelves, or(which is better) forget to ſay any at all. Well, get thee in,prepare things fitting for the ſacrifice. If this fellow had notgood ſtore of trades, he had miſſed of all preferment. Well now,this Poet ſhall make ballads on all the hypocrites of the town, heſhall rime all the Anabaptists out of their wits.

Attorney, Tinker, Miller, Tailor, Shoomaker, &c.

O that Plutushis eyes were ſcratcht out! J can have no more Fees for Latitatsnor Outlawries.

Nay, J am a Lad of metal, of all that but gold and ſilver, can makeno profit of my braſſe nor Latine: there’s no need of making moreholes then one now, and that’s a wicked one for my neck to ſlipinto.

My double Toll fails me, O this grinds me to peeces.

O ’tis the worſt ſtitch that was ever ſowed with the needle ofmisfortune. O iron age, that like the Oſtrich makes me feed on myown Gooſe!

O this falſe Cordwainer Plutus,that ſtretches the leather of my fleſh on the Tree of fatality;that unmercifully puts me into the Stocks of adverſity, and gives meno relief at the Laſt.

Nay he has made me ſo ſlender, that I can meaſure me by my ownYard, three quarters quarter and half nail. This crosse-leg’dinfelicity, ſharper then my needle, makes me eat my own Cabbage.

Nothing but a general inſurrection like a ſhooing-horn can draw onhelp. Let us combine and patch together.

Agreed, agreed.   

Dull-pate ſolus.

is a ſigne Plutushas loſt his eyes, when Dull-pates grow rich: if my name had notbeen Dull-pate,I had loſt half my preferment. It is thought J have as manyEccleſiaſtical Livings as Spalatohad in England;Never a fat Benefice falls now adayes, but J catch it up; J can have’um now without luſtful Simony, in taking Biſhops kinſwomen intothe bargain. J have often wondred how it comes about that my head isſo black, but the hairs of my chin gray: A merry fellow once toldme, ’twas becauſe I uſed my chops more then my brains. Tis trueindeed, Ifare well, becauſe J was born under a rich Conſtellation, but thelearned ſort under a poor Planet. As for example, here comes thePope, IupitersVicar. — bleſſe thy wicked Holineſſe! thou,the Devil, CardinalRichlieu,and the French faction at Court, have brought all the wars intoEngland.

Pope ſolus.

Who can inſtruct me which is Chremylushouſe?

Grave reverend Father, what’s the matter with you?

does your Holineſſe?

Ill as ill may be,

Plutuseye-ſight is reſtored.

What is the cauſe of this your heavineſſe:

the proud Emperor refuſe to kiſſe

ſacred toe? or does it vex your Bonny-face

lose your Peter-pence? what is the cauſe

catholique Bishop, Monarch of the Church,

ſupreme Judge Eccleſiaſtical,

you are thus perplext? why do you not curse um

your Bell, Book, and Candle, that moleſt you?

O J am dead with hunger, a ſaucy hunger,

hereſie as bad as Arrianiſme,

on my ſacred guts. J the great father

Prince of Rome have not a cruſt,

a brown cruſt to knaw on. Iove’sown Vicar,

Iovehimself on earth, would beg on knees

one ſmall peece of Sawſedge. This ſad morn,

a broil’d Sprat J paun’d my triple crown,

now for one Red-herring will J mortgage

Peters large poſſeſſions.

Aha great Pope, can your Pontificial teeth

glad to gnaw upon a catholique Tripe?

your great metropolitan ſtomach feed

a Hogs-cheek? ’tis ſtrange, me thinks, that you

the universal Biſhop, ſhould not

one poor porredge-pot in all your Dioceſſe,

a ſoule in Limboready fryed?

all the Roaſt in Purgatory ſpent?

all your Bulls devoured? faith kill a Bull,

Pope, a Bull, to make your Holineſſe Beef.

muſt be meat ſomwhere or other ſure,

can you open heaven & hell at pleaſure;

cannot PetersKeyes unlock the Cupboard?

ſure our Ladies milk is not all ſpent,

Reliques left, nor chips oth’ Croſſe to feed on?

at Laurettaor at Compoſtella.

of the Capuchins at Somerſet-houſe?

can it be an’t pleaſe your Holineſſe?

O no: since Plutushath received his eyes,

are grown cheap, & at no price:

abſolution for a Rape made now

nothing worth.

me but one poor cruſt before J faint,

J will canonize thee for a Saint.

Or let me purchaſe for a Muttonbone

Apoſtolical benediction.

A meſſe of Broth or rib of Beef from thee,

my eſteem ſhall meritorious be.

Nay J will have it more, ſuch a donation

be a work of ſupererogation.

O how J thirſt!

Mireverende Pater,cannot you drink a cup of Holy-water?

you that could drink Tyberdry, and more,

obtain a Jug upon the ſcore.

try, they’ll hardly truſt you for a drop

the Popes-head,Mitre,or Cardinals-Cap,

any place; tis mony draws the tap.

So irreligious are these ages grown,

think it charity to rob the Clergy.

comes it that you dare with impudence

the Prieſts their tithes?

O, easily ſir. A learned Antiquary that has ſearch’t

breech of Saturnfor Antiquities;

by a reaſon an infallible reaſon,

bugle-horn writ in the Saxontongue,

neither prædial, nor perſonall tithes

due exjure divino:and you know

Clergie Biſhops, your old quondamPatrons

voted down too, and ever ſince w’have learnt

liberty of Conſcience to pay no tithes.

hear ſome teach too, they are Anti- chriſtian,

Steeple-houſes; hence we learn to be

cunning now for your Apoſtolique See.

Now worms devoure that Antiquaries noſe,

thoſe that preach againſt all Steeple-houſes;

powre in papers half conſumed with Mothes,

prove ſome abſurd opinions fain’d to be

in the wals of ſome old Nunnery,

ô my guts wiſh for a Benedicite!

Wilt pleaſe your holineſſe to call a Synod?

may chance to catch trowts in the Councel of Trent.

O I do smel the ſcent of Pippin-pies.

You do indeed, your Holineſſe Noſe I ſee,

the true ſpirit of Infallibility,

finde you cannot erre. What would you do,

be of our houſe now to have free-quarter?

I would reſigne my right to heaven and hell.

Ti-he-he, well ſaid good Pope Innocent.

that’s too much, reſign your heaven only,

your right to hell; your title there

held unqueſstio///le. Well now,

here a whil///// ſing a merry ſong

we to Plutusgo, and Iwill free

guts from the Purgatory of faſting.

Anus.

Is this the Pope? Goddy godden good Father.

do not come unto thy Holineſſe

beg a Licence to eat fleſh on Fridaies;

I desire thy Apoſtolical Curſe

a young man that has abuſed me groſly;

it pleaſe thy Catholickneſſe, the perjur’d Boy

to lie with me while he lived, but he

rich does think to buy out perjury.

good your Holineſſe give him not abſolution.

Would he were here; for threepence Icould sell him

general remission of his ſins:

am almoſt famiſht for want of cuſtomers.

Go woman, fetch the Quire in for ſacrifice.

bid them bring no Copes nor Organs with them)

Iwill get his Holineſſe to command him

ly with thee this night what ere come on’t.

is enjoyn’d him for his pennance is’t not?

It is an’t pleaſe your Holineſſe.

Any thing ſhall pleaſe my holineſſe, if you give me

the leaſt hopes to feed my Holineſſe:

a leane Holineſſe, as the world goes now.

Tis ſtrange that you, the Shepheard of all Europe,

not have one fat Lamb in all your flock.

ſay, if I give you a leg of Mutton?

Remission of ſins, wheat ere they be.

But what if I have ſworn to give thee nothing?

My Holineſſe ſhall give thee abſolution.

But I did but equivocate when Ipromiſed?

Ile free thee from all mentall Reſervation.

But what if this ſame Mutton have gone through

Gyppo’s hands?

Igrant it lawfull:

doe allow traditions.

Well then, I have Remiſſion of all my ſinnes.

With leave and pardon for all ſins hereafter.

What ere they be; though Iſhould raviſh Nuns

the Altar?

Tis a Venial ſin.

Or kill a King?

Tis meritorious.

Cuckold my Father, Whore my naturall Mother,

the ſupremacy of the ſecular powers,

drunk at Maſſe, ſtrip all the Feminine Saints

their Smocks, laugh at a Friars bald-crown,

in the Pixe, deny your myſteries,

your Legend, get Pope Ioanewith childe,

fleſh in Lent, ſit off my Confeſſors Ears,

any ſin, as great as your own Holineſſe,

any of your Predeceſſors acted.

A leg of Mutton wipes all ſins away,

good a deed will juſtifie.

Swear then.

I ſwear and grant it ſubSigillo Piſcatoris.

A pox upon SigillumPiſcatoris,

it to Yarmouth,let it fiſh for Herrings.

J ſay, that is, kiſſe my Imperial ſhoe,

Emperours do yours.——

J am Servusſervorum,your ſervants ſervant.

complement, like Ham——.

that this leather of thyſshoe, this leather

be made fleſh by Tranſubſtantiation!

would not only kiſſe but eat thy Toe.

Moreover you ſhall ſwear that once a year

ſhall have entire power to forgive ſins

my Comrades.

As much as J my ſelf:

ſweare and kiſſe your Holineſſe toe.

And that when J doe knock at heaven gates,

Porter let me in for nothing. Swear again.

Again J ſwear, by this ſweet kiſſe he ſhall.

Well, tis ſufficient, J will pay your Ordinary.

Quire.

comes the Quire prepare your voice and ſing.

Round-heads will not come, cauſe the Pope’s here.

Ofratres noſtri ventres ſint repleti,

empty maws are never truly læti:

feed on meats, and drink of potionibus,

th’ onely Phyſick for devotionibus.

BenedixitEſculapius.

Cheeſe-cakes and Cuſtards, and ſuch good placenta’s,

Ember-weeks & Lenta’s:

belly’s full, we’el go to the Cloiſteribus

kiſſe the Nuns and all the Mulieribus.

Benedixit, &c.

I do not think you hold him for ſinner,

beſt devotion tends unto his dinner:

glaſſe of Sack or cup of nappy Alibus,

vertue has then all our Decretalibus.

Benedixit, &c.

J had rather cat a meal then tell a ſtory,

limbopatrumor of Purgatory:

bleſſings like the pleaſure of the Taſtibus,

reliques holier then the Veniſon Paſtibus.

Benedixit, &c.

Theſe are the Prayers, devotions and delighta’s

Cardinals, Popes, Friars and Iesuita’s.

break-faſts are their Mattins holy zelibus,

Veſpertines are eating beef & velibus.

Benedixit, &c.

Come fratres& sorores per praeſentes,

us go in to exerciſe our dentes,

we will ſit with you and your uxoribus,

laugh at all these hungry auditoribus.

Benedixit, &c.

omnes.

5. Scæn. ult.

Plutus //////ngaLetter.

came into Englandbut ſince this Parliament ſate, (the plunderers J thank thembrought me hither) and J think J have had about 200000. ſuiters atleaſt: nay, ſome great men have been ambitious to proffer me theirdaughters to marry. They indeed be great ones, but J only look afterHoneſty now J have got my eye-ſight. Never did gudgions at amill-tail more greedily bite the bait, then ſome of ’um after me.Had J had the Palſie, Sciatica, Cough, Ague, Feaver, French pox, anda whole cart-load of diſeases, (as J have the Gout already, becauſeJ am rich) they would have taken me with all my faults. England(J see) is a covetous place. This morning J have received no leſſethen forty letters to the ſame purpose. Above all, one Mrs. MariaCorombona Butto Fuoccowoes me; as sure as can be a Venetian Curteza bred up in London,an arrant whore. Here’sher Letter. APlauto Gentilhomme d’Inghilterra de bona gratia,Mariabutta fuoccoand ſo forth. Apox take her! J have forty more of them in my pocket. But there isone Mrs. Honeſty Cleon, an honeſt Scriveners daughter, (’tisſtrange they have any thing to do with Honeſty, J warrant ſhe’llnot live long) ſhe is the miſtreſſe of my affections, for ſhe ishoneſt. See here ſhe comes.

Mrs. Honesty.

Lady, fairer then the morning-ſkies,

not young Cupidtoucht your amorous eyes?

am all for golden Verſes gratulation,

muſt not paſſe by courteous ſalutation.

kiſſe.

Sir,if Imay ſſe, Loves art

only toucht my eyes, but heart.

Nay then the Parſon ſtraight ſhall do his part,

in: the Gordian knot none can untwiſt,

tie it faſt, and as we go we’ll kiſſe.

any ſtate never will be foul weather,

Honeſtyand Richesmeet together.

Epilogue

Wealth(you ſee) with Honeſtyand Piety

joyn’d in league for mutual ſociety.

would it were the bleſſing of our Nation,

might have iſſue too by procreation!

ſure the Bride’spaſt child-bearing;that’s the reaſon

few are honeſt in this age and ſeaſon.

be a ſtollen match, Priest must be taxt’;

certain true, the Banes were never ax’t,

he that joyn’d their hands (forought I heare)

was a very honeſt Cavalier;

us’d the Ring and Book,went not by heart,

joyn’d them word for word,Till death depart.

reſolute, without F^ees,to tye the nooſe:

had lost his Benefice, h’had no move to loſe.

know there’s many waggiſh Pates joyneforce

part this couple by a ſad divorce:

hope’t will not be granted by Petition

th’Arches,Doctors Commons,or High-Commiſsion:

I do verily think there’s intent

ſever them by this our Parliament.

God give ’um joy! Ioy may they find!

is the wiſh of every vertuous mind.

wicked Raſcals ſing another Catch;

take ’um both! Tis an unlucky match.

is indeed for them, because ’twill ſerve

ſend their Brats to Tyburn, or to ſterve.

Parſley is good phyſick. Honeſt gueſts

only bid to these our Nuptial feaſts.

to th’ rich are baſe: yet we demand

you pay down a Plauditeat hand.