SCENE I.-Jobson's House.

Enter JOBSON and NELL

Nell. Pr'ythee, good Jobson, stay with me tonight, and for once make merry at home.

Job. Peace, peace, you jade! and go spin; for, if I lack any thread for my stitching, I will punish you by virtue of my sovereign authority.

Nell. Ay, marry, no doubt of that, whilst you

take your swing at the alehouse, spend your substance, get as drunk as a beast, and then come home like a sot, and use one like a dog.

Job. Nounz! do you prate? Why, how now, brazen-face! do you speak ill of the government? Don't you know, hussy, that I am king in my own house, and that this is treason against my majesty?

Nell. Did ever one hear such stuff? But I pray you now, Jobson, don't go to the alehouse to-night.

Job. Well, I'll humour you for once: but don't grow saucy upon't; for I am invited by Sir John Loverule's butler, and am to be princely drunk with punch at the hall-place; we shall have a bowl large enough to swim in.

Nell. But they say, husband, the new lady will not suffer a stranger to enter her doors; she grudges even a draught of small beer to her own servants; and several of the tenants have come home with broken heads from her ladyship's own hands, only for smelling strong beer in the house,

Job. A plague on her for a fanatical jade! Sho has almost distracted the good knight. But she's now abroad, feasting with her relations, and will scarce come home to-night; and we are to have much drink, a fiddle, and merry gambols.

Nell. O, dear husband, let me go with you; we'll be as merry as the night's long.

Job. Why, how now, you bold baggage! would you be carried to a company of smooth-faced, eating, drinking, lazy, serving-men? No, no, you jade, I'll not be a cuckold.

Nell. I'm sure they would make me welcome: you promised I should see the house: and the family has not been here before since you married and brought me home.

Job. Why, thou most audacious strumpet, darest thou dispute with me, thy lord and master? Get in and spin, or else my strap shall wind about thy ribs most confoundedly.

AIR.

He that has the best wife,

She's the plague of his life;

But for her who will scold and will quarrel,

Let him cut her off short

Of her meat and her sport,

And ten times a day hoop her barrel, brave boys, 1 ten times a day hoop her barrel.

Nell. Well, we poor women must always be slaves, and never have any joy; but you men run and ramble at your pleasure.

Job. Why you most pestilen baggage, will you be hoop'd? Be gone.

Nell. I must obey. (Going.)

Job. Stay; now I think on't, here's sixpence for you; get ale and apples, stretch and puff thyself up with lamb's wool, rejoice and revel by thyself, be drunk and wallow in thy own sty, like a grumbling sow as thou art. (Sings)

Ile that has the best wife,

She's the plague of his life, &c.

as a lord: I am a true English heart, and look upon drunkenness as the best part of the liberty of the subject.

But. Come, Jobson, we'll bring out our bowl of punch in solemn procession; and then for a song to crown our happiness. [Exeunt. Re-enter JOBSON, Butler, &c, with a bowl of punch.

AIR

Come, jolly Bacchus, god of wine,
Crown this night with pleasure;
Let none at cares of life repine,

To destroy our pleasure:
Fill up the mighty sparkling bowl,
Tat every true and loyal soul
May drink and sing without control
To support our pleasure.

Thus, mighty Bacchus, shalt thou be
Guardian of our pleasure;
That under thy protection we

May enjoy new pleasure.
And as the hours glide away,
We'll in thy name invoke their stay,
And sing thy praises that we may
Live and die with pleasure.

But. The king and the royal family, in a brimmer.

AIR

Here's a good health to the king,
And send him a prosp'rous reign;
O'er hills and high mountains
We'll drink dry the fountains,
Until the sun rises again, brave boys,
Until the sun rises again.
Then here's to thee, my boy boon,

And here's to the, my boy boon;

As we've tarry'd all day

For to drink down the sun,

So we'll tarry and drink down the moon, brave boys, So we'll tarry and drink down the moon.

Omnes. Huzza!

Enter SIR JOHN LOVERULE and LADY

LOVERULE.

SCENE IL-Sir John Loverule's House. Enter Butler, Cook, Footman, Coachman, LUCY, LETTICE, &c.

But. I would the blind fiddler and our dancing neighbours were here, that we might rejoice a little, while our termagant lady is abroad: I have made a most sovereign bowl of punch.

Lucy. We had need rejoice sometimes, for our devilish new lady will never suffer it in her hearing.

Enter blind Fiddler, JOESON, ad neighbours. But. Welcome, welcome all; this is our wish. Honest old acquaintance, goodman Jobson, how dost thou ?

Job. By my troth, I am always sharp-set towards punch; and am now come with a firm resolution, though but a poor cobbler, to be as richly drunk

Lady L. I say, meddle with your own affairs; I will govern my own house without your putting in an oar. Shall I ask you leave to correct my own servants?

Sir J. I thought, madam, this had been my house, and these my tenants and servants.

Lady L. Did I bring a fortune, to be thus abused and snubbed before people? Do you call my authority in question, ungrateful man? Look to your dogs and horses abroad, but it will be my province to govern here; nor will I be controlled by e'er a hunting, hawking knight in Christendom.

AIR-SIR JOHN LOVERULE.

Ye gods, you gave to me a wife,
Out of your grace and favour,
To be the comfort of my life,
And I was glad to have her;

But if your providen e divine

Far greater bliss design her,
To obey your wills, at any time,
I'm ready to resign her.

This is to be married to a continual tempest: strife and noise, canting and hypocrisy, are eternally afloat: 'tis impossible to bear it long..

Lady L. Ye filthy scoundrels, and odious jades I'll teach you to junket it thus, and steal my provisions; I shall be devoured at this rate.

But. I thought, madam, we might be merry once upon a holiday.

Lady L. Holiday, you popish cur! Is one day more holy than another? And if it be, you'll be sure to get drunk upon it, you rogue. (Beats him.) after an abominable fiddle? (Lugs Lucy by the ears.) You minx, you impudent flirt! are you jigging it Lucy. O lud! she has pull'd off both my ears. Sir J. Pray, madam, consider your sex and quality: I blush for your behaviour.

Lady L. Consider your incapacity; you shall not instruct me. Who are you, thus muffled, you buzzard? (She beats them all; Jobson steals by.)

Job. I am an honest, plain, psalm-singing cobbler, madam: if your ladyship would but go to church, you might hear me above all the rest there.

Lady L. I'll try thy voice here, first, villain. (Strikes him.)

Job. Nounz! what a plague, what a devil ails you?

Lady L. O profane wretch! wicked varlet!

Sir J. For shame! your behaviour is monstrous! Lady L. Was ever poor lady so miserable in a brutish busband as I am? I that am so pious and so religious a woman!

Job. (Sings.) He that has the best wife,

She's the plague of his life;

But for her that will scold and will quarrel.

Fid. O murder! murder!

Sir J. Here, poor fellow, take your staff and be gone; there's money to buy you two such: that's your way. [Exit Fiddler. Lady L. Methinks you are very liberal, sir. Must my estate maintain you in your profuseness? Sir J. Go up to your closet, pray, and compose your mind.

Lady L.. O wicked man! to bid me pray.

Sir J. A man cannot be completely cursed, I see, without marriage; but since there is such a thing as separate maintenance, she shall to-morrow enjoy the benefit of it. (Knocking at the door.) Here, where are my servants? Must they be frightened from me? Within there-see who knocks. Lady L. Within there. Where are my sluts? Ye drabs, ye queans! Lights there.

Re-enter Butler.

But. Sir, it is a Doctor that lives ten miles off: he practises physic, and is an astrologer; your worship knows him very well; he is a cunning man, makes almanacs, and can help people to their goods again.

Enter Doctor.

Doc. Sir, I humbly beg your honour's pardon for this unseasonable intrusion; but I am benighted, and 'tis so dark that I can't possibly find my way

home; and knowing your worship's hospitality, desire the favour to be harbour'd under your roof to-night.

Lady L. Out of my house, you lewd conjurer you magician.

Doc. Here's a turn! here's a change! Well, if I have any art, ye shall smart for this. (Aside.)

Sir J. You see, friend, I am not master of my own house; therefore, to avoid any uneasiness, go down the lane about a quarter of a mile, and you'll see a cobbler's cottage; stay there a little, and I'll send my servant to conduct you to a tenant's house, where you'll be well entertained.

Doc. I thank you, sir; I'm your most humble servant; but as for your lady there, she shall, this [Exit. conference together. Sir J. Come, madam, you and I must have some night, feel my resentment.

Lady L. Yes; I will have a conference and a reformation, too, in this house, or I'll turn it upside down, I will. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Jubson's house.
Enter NELL and the Doctor.

Nell. Pray, sir, mend your draught, if you please; you are very welcome, sir.

Doc. Thank you heartily, good woman! and to requite your civility, I'll tell you your fortune. Nell. O, pray do, sir; I never had my fortune told me in my life.

Doc. Let me behold the lines of your face. Nell. I'm afraid, sir, 'tis none of the cleanest; I have been about dirty work all this day.

Doc. Come, come, 'tis a good face; be not ashamed of it; you shall shew it in greater places suddenly.

Nell. O dear, sir, I shall be mightily ashamed; I want dacity when I come before great folks.

Doc. You must be confident, and fear nothing; there is much happiness attends you.

Nell. Oh me! this is a rare man; heaven be thanked. (Aside.)

Doc. To-morrow, before the sun-rise, you shall be the happiest woman in this country.

Nell. How, by to-morrow? Alack-a-day, sir! how can that be?

Doc. No more shall you be troubled with a surly husband, that rails at, and straps you.

Nell. Lud! how came he to know that? He must be a conjurer! (Aside.) Indeed, my husband is somewhat rugged, and, in his cups, will beat me, but it is not much: he's an honest, pains-taking man, and I'll let him have his way. Pray, sir, take t'other cup of ale.

Doc. I thank you. Believe me, to-morrow you shall be the richest woman in the hundred, and ride in your own coach.

Nell. O father! you jeer me.

Doc. By my art, I do not. But mark my words, be confident, and bear all out, or worse will follow. Nell. Never fear, sir, I warrant you. O gemini! a coach.

Enter JOBSON. Job. Where is this quean? Here, Nell! What a plague, are you drunk with your lamb's wool? Nell. O husband! here's the rarest man-he has told me my fortune.

Job. Has he so! and planted my fortune too, a lusty pair of horns upon my head. Eh! Is't not so? Doc. Thy wife is a virtuous woman, and thou'lt be happy

Job. Come out, you hang dog, you juggler, you cheating, bamboozling villain; must I be cuckolded

by such rogues as you are, mackmaticians, and almanac makers?

Nell. Pr'ythee, eace, husband; we shall be rich, and have a coach of our own.

Job. A coach! a cart, a wheelbarrow, you jade. By the mackin, she's drunk, beastly drunk, most confoundedly drunk. Get to bed, you strumpet. (Beats her.)

Nell. O mercy on us! is this a taste of my good fortune? Oh, you are a devil of a conjurer, sare enough. [Exit. Doc. You had better not have touch'd her, you surly rogue.

Job. Out of my house, you villain.
Doc. Farewell, you paltry slave.
Job. Get out, you rogue.

SCENE IV.-An open Country.

Enter Doctor.

AIR.

Doc. My little spirits now appear,
Nadir and Abishog draw near;
The time is short, make no delay;
Then quickly haste and come away;
Nr moon nor stars afford their light,
But all is wrapp'd in gloomy night:
Both men and beast to rest incline,
And all things favour my design.

[Exeunt.

Spi. (Within.) Say, master, what is to be done?

Doc. My strict commands be sure attend,

For ere this night shall have an end,
You must this cobbler's wife transform,
And to the knight's the like perform;
With all your most specific charms,
Convey each wife to diff'rent arms;
Let the delusion be so strong,

That none may know the right from wrong,

Spi. All this we will with care perform,
In thunder, lightning, and a storm.

AIR

In Bath a wanton wife did dwell,
As Chaucer he did write,
Who wantonly did spend her time
In many a fond delight.
All on a time so sick she was,
And she at length did die;
And then her soul at Paradise
Did knock most mightily.

Lady L. Why, villain, rascal, screech-owl, who makest a worse noise than a dog hung in the pales, or a hog in a high wind. Where are all my servants? Somebody come and hamstring this rogue. (Knocks.)

Job. Why, how now, you brazen quean! You must get drunk with the conjurer, must you? I'll give you money another time to spend in lamb's wool, you saucy jade, shall I?

Lady L. Monstrous! I can find no bell to ring. Where are my servants? They shall toss him in a blanket.

Job. Ay, the jade's asleep still; the conjurer told her she should keep her coach, and she is dreaming of her equipage. (Sings.)

AIR.

I will come in spite, she said,
Of all such churls as thee;

Thou art the cause of all our pain,
Our grief and misery.

Thou first brok the commandment,
In honour of thy wife:

When Adam heard her say these words,

He ran away for life.

Lady L. Why, husband! Sir John! will you suffer me to be thus insulted?

Job. Husband! Sir John! what a plague has she knighted me? And my name's Zekel, too; a good jest, faith.

Lady L. Ha! he's gone, he's not in the bed. Heaven, where am I? Foh! what loathsome smells are here? Canvas sheets, and a filthy ragged curtain; a beastly rug, and a flock bed.

Am I

SCENE V.-Jobson's House. The bed in view.

JOBSON discovered at work.

Job. What devil has been abroad to-night? I never heard such claps of thunder in my life; I thought my little hovel would have flown away; but now all is clear again, and a fine star-light morning it is. I'll settle myself to work. They say,

Winter's thunder is summer's wonder.

AIR.

Of all the trades from east to west,
The cobbler's past contending,

Is like in time to prove the best,
Which every day is mending.

How great his praise, who can amend
The soles of all his neighbours;
Nor is unmindful of his end,

But to his last still labours.

Laly L. (In bed.) Heyday! what impudent balladsinging rogue is that, who dares wake me out of my sleep? I'll have you flayed, you rascal.

Job. What a plague, does she talk in her sleep? or is she drunk still?

Job. This is amazing; I never heard such words from her before? If I take my strap to you I'll make you know your husband; I'll teach you better manners, you saucy drab.

Lady L. Oh, astonishing impudence! You my husband, sirrah? I'll have you hanged, you rogue; I'm a lady. Let me know who has given me a sleeping draught, and conveyed me hither, you dirty varlet?

Job. A sleeping draught! yes, you drunken jade, you had a sleeping draught with a plague to ye. What, has not your lamb's-wool done working yet?

Lady L. Where am I? Where has my villainous husband put me? Lucy! Lettice! Where are my queans?

Job. Ha, ha, ha! What, does she call her maids, too? The conjurer has made her mad as well as drunk.

Lady L. He talks of conjurers; sure I am bewitched! Ha! what clothes are here? a linseywoolsey gown, a calico hood, a red bays petticoat; I am removed from my own house by witchcraft. What must I do? What will become of me? (Horns wind without.)

Job. Hark! the hunters and the merry horns are

abroad. Why, Nell, you lazy jade, 'tis break of day; to work, to work; come, and spin, you drab, or I'll tan your hide for you. What a plague must I be at work two hours before you in the morning?

Lady L. Why, sirrah, thou impudent villain! dost thou not know me, you rogue?

Job. Know you, yes, I know you well enough; and I'll make you know me before I have done with

you.

Lady L. I am Sir John Loverule's lady; how came I here?

Job. Sir John Loverule's lady! No, Nell, not quite so bad neither; that d-d stingy, fanatic w-plagues every one that comes near her; the whole country curses her.

Lady L. Nay, then I'll hold no longer; you rogue, you insolent villain, I'll teach you better manners. (Flings the bedstaff and other things at him.)

Job. This is more than ever I saw by her, I never had an ill word from her before. Come strap, I'll try your mettle! I'll sober you, I warrant you, quean. (He straps her. She flies at him.)

Lady D. I'll pull your throat out; I'll tear out your eyes; I am a lady, sirrah. O murder! murder! Sir John Loverule will hang you for this. Murder! murder!

Job. Come, hussy, leave fooling, and come to your spinning, or else I'll lamb you; you never were so lamb'd since you were an inch long. Take it up, you jade. (She fliugs it down. He straps her.)

Lady L. Hold! hold! I'll do anything. Job. Oh! I thought I should bring you to yourself again.

Lady L. What shall I do? I cannot spin. (Aside.) Job. I'll into my stall; 'tis broad day now. (Works and sings.) Heyday, I think the jade's brain is turn'd. What, have you forgot to spin, hussy?

Lady L. But I have not forgot to run.

I'll e'en try my feet. I shall find somebody in the town, sure, that will succour me. (She runs out.) Job. What, does she run for it? I'll after her. (He runs out.)

SCENE VI-Sir John Loverule's House.

NELL discovered in bed.

Nell. What pleasant dreams I have had to-night! Methought I was in Paradise, upon a bed of violets and roses, and the sweetest husband by my side! Ha! bless me! where am I now? What sweets are these? No garden in the spring can equal them. Am I on a bed? The sheets are sarcenet, sure; no linen ever was so fine. What a gay silken robe have I got. O heaven! I dream. Yet, if this be a dream, I would not wish to wake again. Sure I died last night, and went to heaven, and this is it.

Enter LUCY.

Lucy. Now must I awake an alarum that will not lie still again till midnight at soonest; the first greeting I suppose will be jade, or slut. (Aside.) Madam! madam!

Nell. O gemini! who's this? What dost say, sweetheart?

Lucy. Sweetheart! O lud, sweetheart! The best names I have had these three months from her, have been slut or jade. (Aside.) What gown and ruffles will your ladyship wear to-day?

Nell. What does she mean? Ladyship! gown

Let. Is my lady awake? Have you had her shoe or her slipper at your head yet? (Apart to Lucy) Lucy. Oh, no, I'm overjoyed: she's in the kindest humour! Go to the bed, and speak to her. Now is your time. (Apart to Let.)

Let. Now's my time! what, to have another tooth beat out? (Apart.) Madam.

Nell. What dost say, my dear? O father! What would she have?

Le'. What work will your ladyship please to have done to-day?

Nell. Work, child! 'tis holyday; no work to-day. Let. Oh, mercy! Am I, or thee awake? or do we both dream? Here's a blest change! (Apart to Lucy.) Lucy. If it continues we shall be a happy family. (Apart to Lettice.)

Let. Your ladyship's chocolate is ready. Nell. Mercy on me! what's that? Some garment, I suppose. (Aside.) Put it on then, sweet

heart.

Let. Put it on, madam? I have taken it off; 'tis ready to drink.

Nell. I mean put it by; I don't care for drinking

now.

Enter Cook.

Cook. Now I go like a bear to the stake, to know her scurvy ladyship's commands about dinner. How many rascally names must I be called? (Aside.)

Let. Oh, John Cook! you'll be out of your wits to find my lady in so sweet a temper. (Apart to Cook.) Cook. What a devil are they all mad? (Apart to Lettice.)

Lucy. Madam, here's the cook come about dinner. Nell. Oh! there's a fine cook! He looks like one of your gentlefolks. (Aside.)-Indeed, honest man, I'm very hungry now; pray get me a rasher upon the coals, a piece of milk cheese, and some white bread.

Cook. Hey! what's to do here? my head turns round. Honest man! I looked for rogue and rascal, at least. She's strangely changed in her diet, as well as her humour. (Aside.) I'm afraid, madam, cheese and bacon will sit very heavy on your ladyship's stomach in a morning. If you please, madam, I'll toss you up a white fricassee of chickens in a trice, madam; or what does your ladyship think of a veal sweetbread?

Nell. Even what you will, good cook.

Cook. Good cook! good cook? Ah! tis a sweet lady. (Apart.)

Enter Butler.

Oh! kiss me, chip, I am out of my wits. We have the kindest, sweetest lady. (Apart to the Butler.)

But. You shamming rogue, I think you are out of your wits, all of ye: the maids look merrily, too. (Apart to Cook.)

Lucy. Here's the butler, madam, to know your ladyship's orders.

Nell. Oh! pray, Mr. Butler, let me have some small beer when my breakfast comes in.

But. Mr. Butler! Mr. Butler! I shall be turne