2 Cred. Yes, faith, sir; we would be very glad To please you either way.

1 Cred. You are ne'er content,

Crying nor laughing.

Rom. Both with a birth, ye rogues?

2 Cred. Our wives, sir, taught us.

Rom. Look, look, you slaves! your thankless cruelty,

And savage manners of unkind Dijon, Exhaust these floods, and not his father's death. 1 Cred. 'Slid, sir! what would you, you're so cholerick!

2 Cred. Most soldiers are so, 'faith.-Let him alone.

They've little else to live on; we have not had A penny of him, have we?

3 Cred. 'Slight, would you have our hearts? 1 Cred. We have nothing but his body here in durance,

For all our money.

Priest. On.

Char. One moment more,

But to bestow a few poor legacies,
All I have left in my dead father's rights,
And I have done. Captain, wear thou these spurs,
That yet ne'er made his horse run from a foe.
Lieutenant, thou this scarf; and may it tie
Thy valour and thy honesty together:
For so it did in him. Ensign, this cuirass,
Your general's necklace once. You gentle bearers,
Divide this purse of gold: This other strew
Among the poor;-'tis all I have. Romont,
Wear thou this medal of himself, that, like
A hearty oak, grew'st close to this tall pine,
E'en in the wildest wilderness of war,
Whereon foes broke their swords, and tired them-
selves :

Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled.
For me, my portion provide in heaven !—
My root is earthed, and I, a desolate branch,
Left scattered in the highway of the world,
Trod under foot, that might have been a column
Mainly supporting our demolished house.
This would I wear as my inheritance.—
And what hope can arise to me from it,
When I and it are both here prisoners!
Only may this, if ever we be free,
Keep or redeem me from all infamy.
DIRGE.

1 Cred. No further; look to them at your own peril.

2 Cred. No, as they please: Their master's a good man.

I would they were at the Bermudas!
Jailor. You must no farther.

The prison limits you, and the creditors
Exact the strictness.

Rom. Out, you wolfish mongrels!
Whose brains should be knocked out, like dogs in
July,

Lest your infection poison a whole town.

Char. They grudge our sorrow. Your ill wills perforce,

Turn now to charity: They would not have us
Walk too far mourning; usurers relief
Grieves if the debtors have too much of grief.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II-A Room in Rochfort's House.

Enter BEAUMELLE, FLORIMEL, and BELLAPERT. Beaumel. I prithee tell me, Florimel, why do you women marry?

Flor. Why truly, madam, I think, to lie with their husbands.

Bella. You are a fool. She lies, madam; wo men marry their husbands, to lie with other men. Flor. 'Faith, even such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, madam, this wagtail will spoil you, if you take delight in her licence.

Beaumel. 'Tis true, Florimel; and thou wilt make me too good for a young lady. What an electuary found my father out for his daughter, when he compounded you two my women! For thou, Florimel, art even a grain too heavy, simply, for a waiting-gentlewoman—

Flor. And thou, Bellapert, a grain too light.

Bella. Well, go thy ways, goody wisdom, whom nobody regards. I wonder whether be elder, thou or thy hood? You think, because you served my lady's mother, are thirty-two years old, which is a pip out, you know—

Flor. Well said, whirligig.

Bella. You are deceived: I want a peg in the middle. Out of these prerogatives, you think to be mother of the maids here, and mortify them with proverbs: go, go, govern the sweetmeats, and weigh the sugar, that the wenches steal none; say your prayers twice a day, and, as I take it, you have performed your functions.

Flor. I may be even with you.

Bella. Hark! the court's broke up; go help my old lord out of his caroch, and scratch his head till dinner-time,

Flor. Well.

[Exit.

Bella. Fie, madam, how you walk! By my maiden-head, you look seven years older than you did this morning. Why there can be nothing under the sun valuable to make you thus a minute.

Beaumel. Ah, my sweet Bellapert, thou cabinet To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause That makes thy lady wither thus in youth.

Bella. Uds-light! enjoy your wishes: whilst I live,

One way or other you shall crown your will.
Would you have him your husband that you love,
And can it not be? he is your servant, though,
And may perform the office of a husband.

Beaumel. But there is honour, wench.
Bella. Such a disease

There is indeed, for which ere I would die.

Beaum. Prithee, distinguish me a maid and wife. Bella. 'Faith, madam, one may bear any man's children, t'other must bear no man's.

Beaumel. What is a husband?

Bella. Physick, that, tumbling in your belly, will make you sick in the stomach. The only distinction betwixt a husband and a servant is, the first will lie with you when he pleases; the last shall lie with you when you please. Pray tell me, lady, do you love, to marry after, or would you marry, to love after?

Beaumel. I would meet love and marriage both at once.

Bella. Why then you are out of the fashion, and will be contemned: for I will assure you, there are few women in the world, but either they have married first, and loved after; or love first, and married after. You must do as you may, not as you would; your father's will is the goal you must fly to. If a husband approach you, you would have further off, is he you love, the less near you? A husband in these days is but a cloak, to be oftener laid upon your bed, than in your bed.

Beaumel. Hum!

Bella. Sometimes you may wear him on your shoulders; now and then under your arm; but seldom or never let him cover you, for 'tis not the fashion.

Enter NOVALL junior, PONTALIER, MALOTIN, LILADAM, and AYMER.

Nov. jun. Best day to nature's curiosity, Star of Dijon, the lustre of all France! Perpetual spring dwell on thy rosy cheeks, Whose breath is perfume to our continent!See! Flora trimmed in her varieties.

Bella. Oh, divine lord!

Nov. jun. No autumn nor no age ever approach This heavenly piece, which nature having wrought, She lost her needle, and did then despair Ever to work so lively and so fair!

Lilad. Uds-light, my lord, one of the purls of your band

Is, without all discipline, fallen out of his rank. Nov. jun. How? I would not for a thousand crowns she had seen it. Dear Liladam, reform it. Bella. Oh, lord per se, lord! Quintessence of honour! she walks not under a weed that could deny thee any thing.

Beaumel. Prythee peace, wench! thou dost but blow the fire,

That flames too much already.

[LILADAM and AYMER trim NOVAll, whilst BELLAPERT her lady. Aymer. By gad, my lord, you have the divinest

| taylor in Christendom; he hath made you look like an angel in your cloth-of-tissue doublet.

Pont. This is a three-legged lord; there is a fresh assault. Oh! that men should spend time thus!-See, see how her blood drives to her heart, and strait vaults to her cheeks again!

Malot. What are these?

Pont. One of them there, the lower, is a good, foolish, knavish, sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much caught my lord with singing; he is master of a music house. The other is his dressing block, upon whom my lord lays all his cloaths and fashions, ere he vouchsafes them his own person; you shall see him in the morning in the galley-foist, at noon in the bullion, in the evening in Quirpo, and all night in—

Malot. A bawdy-house.

Pont. If my lord deny, they deny; if he affirm, they affirm: They skip into my lord's cast skins some twice a year; and thus they flatter to eat, eat to live, and live to praise my lord.

Malot. Good sir, tell me one thing.
Pont. What's that?

Malot. Dare these men ever fight on any cause? Pont. Oh, no, 'twould spoil their clothes, and put their bands out of order.

Nov. jun. Mistress, you hear the news? Your father has resigned his presidentship to my lord my father.

Malot. And lord Charalois undone for ever.
Pont. Troth, 'tis pity, sir.

A braver hope of so assured a father
Did never comfort France.

Lilad. A good dumb mourner.
Aymer. A silent black.

Nov. jun. Oh, fie upon him, how he wears his

clothes!

No man but has or must bury a father.
Char. Grave sir, I buried sorrow for his death
In the grave with him. I did never think
He was immortal-though I vow I grieve,
And see no reason why the vicious,
Virtuous, valiant, and unworthy men,
Should die alike.

Roch. They do not.

Char. In the manner

Of dying, sir, they do not; but all die,
And therein differ not: But I have done.
I spied the lively picture of my father,
Passing your gallery, and that cast this water
Into mine eyes: See-foolish that I am,
To let it do so.

Roch. Sweet and gentle nature!
How silken is this well comparatively
To other men ! I have a suit to you, sir.
Char. Take it; 'tis granted.

Roch. What?

Char. Nothing, my lord.

Roch. Nothing is quickly granted.
Char. Faith, my lord,

That nothing granted is even all I have,
For, all know, I have nothing left to grant.
Roch. Sir, have you any suit to me? I'll grant
You something, anything.

Char. Nay, surely, I, that can
Give nothing, will but sue for that again.
No man will grant me anything I sue for,
But begging nothing, every man will give it.
Rock. Sir, the love I bore your father, and the
worth

I see in you, so much resembling his,
Made me thus send for you:-And tender here
[Draws a curtain, and discovers a Table,
with money and jewels upon it.
Whatever you will take, gold, jewels, both,
All, to supply your wants, and free yourself.
Where heavenly virtue in high-blooded veins
Is lodged, and can agree, men should kneel down,
Adore, and sacrifice all that they have;
And well they may, it is so seldom seen.
Put off your wonder, and here freely take,
Or send your servants: Nor, sir, shall you use,
In aught of this, a poor man's fee, or bribe
Unjustly taken of the rich, but what's
Directly gotten, and yet by the law.

Char. How ill, sir, it becomes those hairs to

mock!

Roch, Mock ! thunder strike me then. Char. You do amaze me:

But

you shall wonder too. I will not take

One single piece of this great heap. Why should I
Borrow, that have no means to pay? nay, am
A very bankrupt, even in flattering hope
Of ever raising any. All my begging
Is Romont's liberty.

Enter ROMONT, BEAUMONT, and Creditors loaded with money,

Roch. Here is your friend,

Enfranchised ere you spake. I give him to you:
And, Charalois, I give you to your friend,
As free a man as he: Your father's debts

Are taken off.

Char. How ?

Rom. Sir, it is most true.

I am the witness.

1 Cred. Yes, faith, we are paid.

2 Cred. Heaven bless his lordship! I did think him wiser.

3 Cred. He a statesman! He an ass. Pay other men's debts?

1 Cred. That he was never bound for. Rom. One more such

Would save the rest of pleaders.

Char. Honoured Rochfort

Lie still my tongue, and blushes scald my cheeks, That offer thanks in words for such great deeds. Roch. Call in my daughter: still I have a suit to you, [Brit BEAUMONT.

Would you requite me.

Rom. With his life, I assure you.

Roch. Nay, would you make me now your
debtor, sir!

Re-enter BEAUMONT, with BEAUMELLE.
This is my only child : What she appears,
Your lordship well may see: her education
Follows not any; for her mind, I know it
To be far fairer than her shape, and hope
It will continue so. If now her birth
Be not too mean for Charalois, take her, take
This virgin by the hand, and call her wife,
Endowed with all my fortunes. Bless me so,
Requite me thus, and make me happier,
In joining my poor empty name to yours,
Than if my 'state were multiplied tenfold.

Char. Is this the payment, sir, that you expect?
Why, you precipitate me more in debt,
That nothing but my life can ever pay.
This beauty being your daughter, in which YOURS
I must conceive necessity of her virtue,
Without all dowry is a prince's aim:
Then, as she is, for poor and worthless me
How much too worthy ! Waken me, Romont,
That I may know I dreamed, and find this va-
nished.

Rom. Sure I sleep not.

Roch. Your sentence-life or death.
Char. Fair Beaumelle, can you love me?
Beaumel. Yes, my lord.

Enter NovALL jun. PONTALIER, MALOTIN,
LILADAM, and AYMER.—All salute.

Char. You need not question me if I can you : You are the fairest virgin in Dijon,

And Rochfort is your father.

Nov. jun. What's this change?

Roch. You meet my wishes, gentlemen.
Rom. What make

These dogs in doublets here?
Beaumel. A visitation, sir.

Char. Then thus, fair Beaumelle, I write my

faith,

And let these tears, an emblem of our loves,
Like crystal rivers individually

Flow into one another; make one source,
Which never man distinguish, less divide!
Breath marry breath, and kisses mingle souls;
Two hearts and bodies here incorporate;
And, though with little wooing I have won,
My future life shall be a wooing time,
And every day new as the bridal one.
Oh, sir ! I groan under your courtesies,
More than my father's bones under his wrongs.
You, Curtius-like, have thrown into the gulf
Of this his country's foul ingratitude,
Your life and fortunes, to redeem their shames.
Roch. No more, my glory ! come, let's in, and
hasten

Pont. One word, my lord Novall!

Nov. jun. What, thou wouldst money?-there! Pont. No, I'll none, I'll not be bought a slave, A pander, or a parasite, for all

Your father's worth. Though you have saved my life,

Rescued me often from my wants, I must not
Wink at your follies that will ruin you.
You know my blunt way, and my love to truth:
Forsake the pursuit of this lady's honour,
Now you do see her made another man's,
And such a man's, so good, so popular!
Or you will pluck a thousand mischiefs on you.
The benefits you've done me are not lost,
Nor cast away ; they are pursed here in my heart ;
But let me pay you, sir, a fairer way,
Than to defend your vices, or to sooth them.
Nov. jun. Ha, ha! what are my course unto
thee?

Good cousin Pontalier, meddle with that
That shall concern thyself. [Erit NovALL.

Pont. No more but scorn?

Move on then, stars, work your pernicious will: Only the wise rule, and prevent your ill. [Erit.

Hautboys.-Here a passage over the stage, while the act is playing for the marriage of CHARA LOIS with BEAUMELLE, &c.

Bella. I will,

Relish and taste, and make the banquet easy.
You say my lady's married-I confess it:
That Charalois hath enjoyed her 'tis most true:
That with her he's already master of

The best part of my old lord's state-still better.
But that the first or last should be your hindrance,
I utterly deny : For, but observe me,
While she went for, and was, I swear, a virgin,
What courtesy could she with her honour give,
Or you receive with safety ? Take me with you;
When I say courtesy, do not think I mean
A kiss, the tying of her shoe or garter,
An hour of private conference; those are trifles.
In this word courtesy we, that are gamesters,

point at

The sport direct, where not alone the lover
Brings his artillery, but uses it;

Which word expounded to you, such a courtesy
Do you expect, and sudden.

Nov. jun. But he tasted

The first sweets, Bellapert.

Bell. He wrong'd you shrewdly !

He toil'd to climb up to the phoenix' nest,
And in his prints leaves your ascent more easy.

I do not know, you that are perfect criticks

In woman's books, may talk of maidenheads-
Nov. jun. But for her marriage!
Bella. 'Tis a fair protection

'Gainst all arrests of fear or shame for ever

Q