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Guard. Your kinsman, sir, that hes the They have been but wit-weapons; you were Welsh benefice.

To love the play.

[wont Olde. I sav'd him from the gallows to that

Enter Pompey. Is there any more?

(end? Good! Guard. And sir Gregory

Olde. Let me alone in my muse, a little, sir! Is married too.

I will wake to you anon. Oldc. To iny niece too, I hope,

Cunn. Udso, your friend Pompey! And then I may hang her.

How will you answer him?
Guard. No, sir; to my niece, ilauk Cupid!

Niece. Very well;
And that's all that's likely to recover nie; If you'll but second it, and help me.
She's lady Fop now,and I am one of her aunts, Pompey. I do hear
I thank my promotion.

Strange stories: are ladies things obnoxious? Enter Credulous, Cunningham, Niece, Gre

Niece. Oh, the dir:sembling falsest wretch
Cunn. How no*; ady?

(is come! gory, and Mirabel,

Niece. Let me come to him! Cred. I have performed

And, instead of love, let me have revenge! Your beheint, sir.

Ilitty. Pray you now, (pic. What have you perform'd, sir? Vill you first examine, whether he be Hlinty. Fails, sir, I must excuse my cousin Guilty or no in this itt,

Niece. He cannot be excus'd! sou con excuse yourself for making him How many messengers, thou perjur'd man, A priest; there's the inost difficult answer. Hlast thou return'd with vows and oaths, that I pit this practice on him, as from your de- thou would'st A trut., a truth, father.

(sire : Follow, and ne'er 'till this unhappy hour Cred. I protest, sir, he tells you truth; Could I sct eye of thee, since thy false eye He inov'd me to't in your namne.



beart to't? Oh, I could tear thee Olde. I protest, sir,


(leave He told you a lie in my name! and were you Instead of soft enibraces! Pray give me So easy, Mr. Credulous, to believe bim?

Witty. Faith, this was ill done of you, sir, if Cred. If a man should not believe his

You promis'd otherwise. Whom should he believe? (cousi, sir,

Pompey. By this band, Oldc. Good e'en to you, fair bride, Never any messenger came at me, since Good Mr. cousin Cunningham! and your The first vine I came into her coinpany! My cousin Cunningham too! And how do That a man should be wronged thus! Sir Gregory, with your fair lady? [you, Niece. Did not Greg. A little better

sir! I send thee scarfs and diamonds ? and thou Than you would have had


Return’dst me letters, one with a false heart The days of puppy and slave, and rascal, are in't.

[falsboods, Pretty well Dlown over now; I know crabs I!'itty. Oh, fy! to receive favours, return

from verjuice, [niece for nothing, And hold a lady in handI have tried both: an thou'dst give me thy Pompey. Will you believe me, sir? I'd not have her.

If ever I received diainonds, or scarf, Cunn. I think so, sir Gregory;

Or sent any letter to her, 'would this sword For my sake you would not.

Might ne'er yo thro'me!
Grey. I would thou hadst’scap'd her too! liitty. Some bad messengers
And then she had died of the green-sickness. Hare gone between you then.
Know this,

Niece. Take him
That I did marry in spite, and I

From my sight! if I shall see tomorrowWill kiss my lady in spite, and love her in Witty. Pray you forbear the place! this spite,

discontent And bezet children of her in spite, [spite! May impair ber hcalth much. And when I die, they shall have my hands in Pompey. 'Sloot, if a man had been in any This was my resolution, and now 'cis out.


[lieve Niece. flow spiteful are you row,

sir "Twould ne'er a griev'd him: sir, if you'll beGregory!-

tausband, Ivitty. Nay, nay, protest no more; I do Why, look you, I can love my dearest With all the honours, duties, sweet embraces, But you see how the lady is wrong'd by't; That can be thrown upon a loving man. She has cast away herself, 'tis to be feard,

Greg. Pox, this is atore your uncle's face; Against her uncle's will, nay, and consent, but belind his back,

But outof'aniere neglcct, and spite to herself, In private, you'll shew him another tale! Married suddenly without any advice. Cunn, You see, sir, now, the irrecoverable

Pompey. Why, who can help it? if she be

cast away, Of all these things before you. Come out of She may thank herself: she might have gone your muse!

Further and far'd worse. I could do no more


I thank yoll,

Helieve you:





Than I could do: 'twas her own pleasure Which indeed was no robbery, no constable
To command me, that I should not come No justice, no thief, but all căcaters;
'Till I was sent for; I bad been with her There was a hundred mark, mark you that.
Every minute of an hour else.


[music Ilitty. Truly, I believe you.

This memorable hundred pounds' worth of Pompey. Night and day

This was both cheats and wit too. And for She might have commanded me, and that she The assistance of this gentleman to my cousin knew well enough;

(For which I am to have a fee) that was I said as much to her between her and I; A little practice of my wit too, father. Will Yet I protest, she is as honest a lady

you For my part, that I'd say, if she would see me Come to composition yet, father? hang d.

Cunn. Yes, faith, sir, do! If she be cast away, I cant help it; (man. Two hundred a-year will be easier [barren, Slie might have stay'd to have spoke with a Than so much weckly : I do not think he's Wilty. Well,

If he should be put to't again. 'Twas a hard miss on both parts.

Oldc. Why,

[bar't; Pompey. So it was;

This was the day i ivok'd for! Thou shalt I was within one of her, for all this cross luck; And the next cheat makes it up three huliI was sure I was between the knight and home. dred,

Niere. Not gone yet? Oh, iny heart! none Live thou upon thy ten-pound vicarage; regard my health?

Thou get'st not a penny inore: here's thy full Witty. Good sir, forbear her sight awhile!

Hire now. You hear how ill she brooks it.

Cred. I thank you, sir. Pompey. Foolish woman,

Witty. Why, there was the sum of all my To overthrow her fortunes so! I shall think wit, father,

(feard The worse of a lady's wit while I live for't. To shove him out of your favour, which I I could almost cry for a fer! if she should Would have disinherited me. Miscarry now, 'twould touch my conscience Olde. Most certain it had,

[hеrе a little;

do? Had not thy wit recover'd it. Is there any And who knows what love and conceit may That had a hand with thet? What would people say, as I go along?

liitty. Yes, all these, sir. • There goes be that the lady died for love on:' Oldc. Nephew, part a hundred pound I am sure to hear on't i'th' streets; I shall amongst 'em; weep

I'll repay't. Wealth love me as I love wit; Beforehand. Foolish woman! I do grieve when I die, More for thee now, than I did love thee be- I'll build an alms-house for decayed wits! fore.

[tlıy husband's head, Greg. I'll entertain one in my lifetiine : Well, go thy ways! Now wouldst thou spare scholar, And break ihine own heart, if thou hadst any You shall be my chaplain; I have the gift I would some other had been

[wit. Of twenty benefices, simple as I am here. The cause of thy undoing; I shall be

Pris. T'hanks, my great patron ! Twitted i'th' teeth with it, I'm sure of that: Cunn. Sir, your gentry and Foolisb lady!


Your name shall both be rais'd as high Niece. So, so, this trouble's well shook off. As my fortunescan reach 'em, for your friend's Uncle, how do you? There's a dowry due, sir. sake.

Cunn. We have agreed it, sweetest, and Mity. Something will
Sind your uncle

Be in niy present power, the future more; Fully recover'd, kind to both of us.

You shall share with me.

(tlenen. Witly. To all the rest, I hope. 1

Ruin, und L. Ruini. Thanks, worthy genOldi. Never to thee, nor thee, easy cousin Niece. Sir, I would beg one thing of you. Credulous:

Greg. You can
Was your wit so raw?

Beg nothing of me.
Cred. Faith, yours sir, so long season'd, Iitty. Oh, sir! if she begs,
Ilus been faulty too, and very much to blame, There's your power over her.
Speaking it with reverence, uncle.

Greg. She has begg'd me
Grey. Yes, faith, sir,

For a fool already, but 'tis no matter. You have paid as dear for your time, as any I have begg'd her for a lady, that she might na: liere.

[Imprimis, have been;
Tiety. Ay, sir, and I'll reckon it io bim. That's one for another.
The first preface-cheat of a pair of pieces Iitty. Nay, but if she beg-
To the beggars; you remember that;

Greg. Let ber beg again then.
I was the example to your bounty there, Niece. That your man Pompey's coat
I sp::he Greek and Syriack, sir; you under- May come over his ears back again; I
stand me now.

[cousin; would not xt the robbery put, upon your indulgent He should be lost for

my sake.

Greg. Well, tis granted,

So it be purchas'd at an easy rate : For mine own sake.

Some have receiv'd the knocks, some giv'n Mir. I'll entreat it, sir.

the hits, Greg. Why then, 'tis granted for your sake. And all concludes in love; there's happy Oldi. Come, come,


[Excunt. Down with all weapons now! 'tis music time,

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The Commendatory Verses of Gardiner ascribe this Play to Fletcher alone. It was first

published in the folio of 1647; and has not been acted many years, nor, we believe, ever altered.

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SECRETARY to the Duke.

Two MAGISTRATES of Florence.
Duke of Florence.

ALBERTUS, Admiral of Florence.

BAPTISTA, a brave Sca Commander, ancient THREE GENTLEMEN,
Friend to Albertus.

Cesario, a young Gentleman of a fiery

WOMEN. nature, Son to Albertus. MENTIVOLE, Son to Baptista, Loter of Clarissa. MARIANA, Wife to Albertus, a virtuous Lady. PROSPERO, a noble Friend to Buptista.

CLARISSA, Muriunu's Duughter, in wre with Host, the supposed Father of Biancha.

Mentivole. Forobosco, a cheating Mountebank.

JULIANA, Niece to the Duke of Genon, BupClown, the Mountebunk's Mun, und Setler. tista's second life. Dancer,

BIANCIA, the l'air Maid of the Inn, beloved TAYLOR,

of Cesario, and Daughter to Baptista anch MULETTEER, ( Sir Fools and Knaves, who Juliuna.

pretend love to Biancha, Hostess, the supposed Mother of Biancha. CLERK, Сохсойз,

SCENE, Florence,





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