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Just. No more?
Just. Gone? whither are they gone?
Pern. What say you, sir? are you guilty of this They are for women's matters, and so I use Merc. No, sir.
(murder? Just. Who writ 'ein? Just. Whether you are or no, confess; Maria. A man of mine. It will be the better for you.
Just. Who brought 'em? Mcrc. If I were
Muria. A post.
[sure: la, ha! Guilty, your rhetoric could not fetch it forth.
Just. A post? there was soine great baste But tho' I am innocent, I contess, that if I Where is that post ? Were a stander-by, these circumstances urg’d, Muria. Sir, there he stands. Which are true, would make me doubtless Just. Does he so? believe
Bring hither that post! I am afraid that post The accused parties to be guilty.
Will prove a knave. Come hither, post! Just. Write down,
[Antonio? That he being a stander-by (for so you see What can you say concerning the murder of Doth doubtlessly believe the accused parties, Ant. What's that to you? [have you? Which is himself, to be guilty.
Just. Oh, post, you have no answer ready, Merc. I say no such thing.
I'll have one froin you. Just, Write it down, I say; we'll try that. Ant. You shall have no more (honest Merc. I care not what you write.-
From me than you have. You examine an Pray God you did not kill him for love! Gentleman and gentlewoman here. 'Tis pity
A part. Such fools as you should be i'th'commission. Tho' I am free from this, we both deserve- Just. Say you so, post? take away that Maria, Govern your tongue, I pray you! post! wisip him,
[post. all is well;
And bring him again quickly. I'll hamper you, My husband lives, I know it, and I see him. Merc. Tis Antonio; I know him now as Just. They whisper! sever them quickly, What an irregular fool is this ! well
Ant. Wbip me? hold off! murinuring Officers, why do you let them prompt one Maria. Oh, good sir, whip biin! By his Gentlewoman, what say you to ibis ? He should know something of my husband's Are not you guilty?
(out! Mariu. No, as i hope for mercy. [that this That inay quit me: for God's sake, fetch it
Just. But are not those circumstauces true, Just. Whip him, I say! Gentleman hath so shortly and methodically
Antonio throws off his disguise. deliverd?
[me I care not, Ant. Who is't dares whip ine now? Maria. They are; and what you do with Maria. Oh, my lov'd husband ! Since he is dead in whom was
my care. Merc. My most worthy friend! You knew him not?
Where have you been so long? Just. No, and 't been better
Aut. I cannot speak for joy! [shall not For you too, an you bad never known him. Just. Why, what's the matter now? and
Maria. Why then, you did not know the Law then have her course ?
Andr. It shall have no other course
Before I go, or I'll beat my brains: and I say That he would make himself a natural fool, It was not lionestly done of him to discover To do a noble kindness for a friend.
Himself before the parties accus'd were exeHe was a man whose name I'll not out-live, cuted, Longer than Heav'n, whose will must be That law might have had her course; for then Will have me do. [obey'd, The kingdom Nourishes.
man; Ant. And I will quit thy kindness. [ Aside. Ant. But such a wife as thou had never any
Just. Before me, she bas made the tears And such a friend as he, believe me, wife, Stand in mine eyes! but I must be austere. Shall never be! Good wife, love my friend; Gentlewoman, you must confess this murder. Friend, love my wife. Hark, friend!
Maria. I cannot, sir; I did it not. But I Just. Mark, desire to see
If we can bare nothing to do, you shall swear Those examinations which this gentleman The
peace of somebody. Acknowledges to have about him, for
Nurk. Yes, sir.
Just. You shall see them time enough, I Sooth, if I could yet do thee any good,
[letters? I would, i'faith I would. But letters you say you had; where are those Murk. I thank you, sir; Mariu. Sir, they are gone.
I've lost that passion.
Ant. Cousin Curio,
Curio. It is my wish, sir. ['tis so long
Ant. I should not have known you neither, Since we saw each other; we were but children then :
[to me. But you have shew'd yourself an honest man Curio. I would be ever so.
Enter Ricardo and Viola. Alother. Look you! who's there? Andr. Say notining to me; for Thy peace is made.
Ric. Sir, I can nothing say, But that you are her father; you can both Not only pardon, when you have a wrong, But love where you've receiv'd most injury.
Just. I think I shall hear of no hanging this year!
(said, There's a tinker and a whore yet, the cryer That robb’il her, and are in prison; I hope
I They shall be hang'd.
Andr. No, truly, sir, they have broke prison.
Just. 'Tis no matter; then the jailor shall
Merc. Oh, You shall stay dinner; I've a couple of brawl
ing Neighbours, that I'll assure you won't agree,
shall have the hearing of their matJust. With all my heart.
[ter. Merc. Go, gentlemen, go in.
Ric. On, Viola, that no succeeding age Might lose the memory of what thou wert! But such an overswayed sex is yours, That all the virtuous actions you can do Are but as men will call them: and I swear, 'Tis my belief, that women want but ways To praise their deeds, but men want deeds to praise.
WIT AT SEVERAL WEAPONS.
This Play is ascribed to Fletcher hy the Commendatory Verses of Gardiner; the Epilogue,
however, speaks of it as the production of both Authors. The first publication of it was in the folio of 1657. It was brought on the stage, altered by Colley Cibber, about the beginning of the present century, under the title of the Rival Fools, but without any success.
Enter Sir Perfidious Oldcraft and Wittypate. Witty. Sir, I'm no boy; I'm deep in one
and twenty, The second year's approaching.
Oldc. A fine time for A youth to live by his wits then, I should think, Ir'e'er he mean to make account of any. Witty. Wits, sir?
fthee, Oldc. Ay, wits, sir; if it be so strange to I'm sorry I spent that time to get a fool, I might have employ'd my pains a great deal better:
wits. Thou know'st all that I have I ha' got by my And
yet to see how urgent thou art too! It grieves me thou art so degenerate To trouble me for means; I never offer'd it My parents from a school-boy; past nineteen
(See what these times are grown to) before twenty
(like I rush'd into the world, which is indeed much The art of swimming, he that will attain to't Must fall plump, and duck himself at first, And that will make him hardy and adventrous; And not stand putting in one foot, and shiver, And then draw t’other after, like a quakem
buttock; Well he may make a padler in the world, From hand to mouth, but never a brave swim
mer, Borne up by th' chin, as I bore up myself, With my strong industry that never fail'd me; For he that lies borne up with patrimonies, Looks like a long great ass that swims with
bladders: Come but one prick of adverse fortune to him, lle sinks, because he nes tried to swim,
When wit plays with the billows that choak’d The next best wit I can hear of, carries 'em : him.
sir, For since in my time and knowledge so many Witty. Why, is it not a fashion for a father, rich children Out of his yearly thousands to allow
Of the city conclude in beggary, I'd rather His only son a competent brace of hundreds, Make a wise stranger my executor Or such a toy?
Than a foolish son my leir, and have my Olde. Yes; if he mean to spoil him,
lands call'd after
(nature. Or mar his wits, he may, but never I. (stant ; My wit than after my naine; and that's my This is my humour, sir, wbich you'll find con- Iitty. 'Tis a strange harsh one ! Must Í I love wit so well, because I liv'd by't, that I'll still shift then? Give no man power out of my means to hurt it, I come, brave cheats! once to my trade again! And that's a kind of gratitude to my raiser, And I'll ply't harder now than e'er I did for't'. Which great ones often forget. I admire You'll part with nothing then, sir? much
Oldi. Not a jot, sir.
[go, sir, This age's dullness! When I scarce writ man, Witty. If I should ask you blessing ere I The first degree that e'er I took in thriving, I think you would not give't me. I lay intelligencer close for wenching ::
Olde. Let me but hear thou liv'st by thy Could give this lord or knight a true certificate
(mine else! Of all the maidenheads extant; how many lay Thou shalt have any thing; thou’rt none of ’Mongst chambermaids, how many 'mongst Then why should I take care for thce? exchange wenches
Witty. Thank your bounty! Erit, (Tho' never many there, I must confess, Oldc. So wealth love me, and long life, I They have a trick to utter ware so fast); beseech it, I knew which lady had a mind to fall, As I do love the man that lives by his wits, Which gentlewoman new divorc'd, which He comes so near my nature ! I'm grown old tradesman breaking,
now, The price of every sinner to a hair,
And even arriv'd at my last cheat, I fear me; And where to raise each price;' which were But 'twill make shift to bury me, by daythe termers
[gowns, light too. That would give velvet petticoats, tissue And discharge all my legacies, 'tis so wealthy, Which pieces, angels, suppers, and half- And never trouble any interest money.
I've a niece to wed, over whose steps I knew how to match, and make my market; I have plac'd a trusty watchful guardianess, Could give intelligence where the pox lay lege, For fear some poor earl steal ber ('t has been And then to see the lechers shift a point threatend)
[on't; 'Twas sport and profit too; how they would To redeem niortgag'd land, but he shall miss shun
[fully, To prevent which, I have sought out a match Their ador'd mistress' chambers, and run fearLike rats from burning houses; so brought I Fop of Fop-Hall he writes himself, (I take it, My clients o' the game still safe together, The ancient'st fop in England) with whom I've And noble gamesters lov'd me, and I felt it. privately Give me a man that lives by his wits, say I, Compounded for the third part of her portion, And's never left a groat! there's the true gallant.
Enter Sir Gregory Fop and Cunningham. When I grew somewhat pursy, I grew then I
And she seems pleas’d; so two parts rest with In men's opinions too, and confidences;
[he, sir? They put things call’dexecutorships upon me, He's come. Sir Gregory, welcome! What's The charge of orphans, litile senseless crea- Greg. Young Cunningham, a Norfolk gentures,
[feltmakers, tleman, Whom in their childhoods I bound forth to One that has liv'd upon the fops, my kindred, To make 'em lose, and work away their gen- Ever since my rensembrance. He's a wit intry,
deed, Disguise their tender natures with hard cus- And we all strive to have him; nay 'tis certain
2 So wrought 'em out in time; there I rose un- Some of our name have gone to law for him. gently.
Now 'tis my turn to keep him; and indeed Nor do I fear to discourse this unto thee; He's plaguy chargeable, as all your wits are: I'm arm'd at all points against treachery, But I will give him over when I list; I hold my huniour firm; if I can see thee I ha' us'd wits so before. thrive by
[courage Oldc. I hope when you're married, sir, Thy wits while I live, I shall have the more You'll shake him off, To trust thee with my lands when I die; if not, Greg. Why, what do you take me to be,
· Than e'er I did for’ı.] Sympson reads,