Rich in kindness beyond comparison !

Welcome, dear friend! the kindest soul alive!

Here I resign thy habit back again,

costume strange

Whereby I prove the happiest man that breathes.
Crip. Hast thou then, sweet blood, been fortunate?
Frank. Hark! I will tell thee all.

Talk apart.

Enter BOWDLER, MØLL BERRY, and RALPH. BOWDLER
capers and sings.

Ralph. Faith, sir, methinks of late you're very light.
Bow. As a feather, sweet rogue, as a feather.

Have I not good cause? Sweet Moll! sweet Moll!
Hath she not caus'd the same? well, if I live, sweet wench!
Either by night or day, I will requite your kindness.

Frank. Now, I will take my leave, to put the same in - practice.

.

Bow. Moll, thou art mine, by thine own consent.

How say'st thou, Moll?

Moll. Yes, forsooth.

Ralph. I am witness, sir.

[Exit. Frank.

Bow. But that is not sufficient, Moll. If thou art content,

Moll, here's a rogue hard by, a friend of mine, whom I will acquaint with our loves, and he shall be partaker of the match. Ralph. Nay, sir, if you mean to have partners in the match, I hope Ralph can help to serve your wife's turn as well as another, what e'er he be. How say you, mistress?

Moll. All's one to me, whom he pleases.

ef 1675-37.

Bow. Come then, sweet Moll; we'll to the Drawer,

There to despatch what I further intend.

Moll. And well remember'd, husband.

Ralph. A forward maiden by this light! "husband," before the clerk hath said Amen!

Moll. He hath work of mine; I pray forget it not.

Bow. I will not, Moll. Now, you lame rogue; where is this

maiden's work? my wife's work, you rascal! quick, give it

her.

Crip. Sweet signior! the sweet nymph's work is almost finished; but, sweet blood! you drive me into admiration with your latter words. Your sweet wife's work. I admire it.

Bow. Ay, ye halting rascal! my wife's work. She's my wife before God and Ralph. How say'st thou, Moll, art thou not?

Moll. Yes, forsooth; and to confirm the same,
Here, in this presence, I plight my faith again.
And speak again what erst before was said,
That none but you shall have my maidenhead.

Bow. A good wench, Moll! I'faith, now will I to thy father for his good will. Cripple, see you remember what is past; for I will call thee in question for a witness, if need require. Farewell, cur! farewell, dog!

[Exeunt BOWDLER and RALPH.
Crip. Adieu, fond humourist! parenthesis of jests!
Whose humour like a needless cypher fills a room!
But now, Moll Berry! a word or two with you.
Hast thou forgotten Bernard? thy thoughts were bent on him.

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Moll. On him, Cripple? for what? was it for marriage ?
Crip. It was for love; why not for marriage? O monstrous!
Were I a maid, and should be so bewitch'd,

I'd pull my eyes out that did lend me light,
Exclaim against my fortune, ban my stars,

And tear my heart, so yielding her consent

To Bowdler's love, that froth of compliment !

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Moll. Cripple, you lose your time, with your fair tears To circumvent my heart. Bowdler, I love thee; Bernard I hate; and thou shalt never move me.

Crip. I will. Thou dost love Bernard, and I can prove it. Moll. That I love Bernard. By heavens! I abhor him. Crip. Thou lov'st him. Once again I say, thou lov'st him; For all thou hast borne Bowdler still in hand.

Moll. What, wilt thou make me mad? I say, I hate him. Crip. I say thou lov'st him. Have I not been at home, And heard thee in thy chamber praise his person,

And say he is a proper little man,

And pray that he would be a suitor to thee?
Have I not seen thee, in the bay window,
To sit cross-arm'd, take counsel of thy glass,
And prune thyself to please young Bernard's eye?
Sometimes curling thy hair, then practising smiles,
Sometimes rubbing thy filthy butter-teeth,
Then pull the hairs from off thy beetle-brows,
Painting the veins upon thy breasts with blue;
An hundred other tricks I saw thee use,

And all for Bernard.

Moll. For Bernard? 'Twas for Bowdler.
Crip. I say for Bernard.

Nay more, thou know'st I lay one night at home,
And in thy sleep, I heard thee call on Bernard
Twenty times over.

Moll. Will you be sworn I did?

Crip. Ay, I will swear it.

And art thou not asham'd thus to be chang'd,

To leave the love of a kind gentleman,

To doat on Bowdler? Fie, fie, reclaim thyself!
Embrace thy Bernard; take him for thy husband,
And save his credit, who is else undone

By thy hard father's hateful cruelty.

Moll. Cripple, if thou canst prove that ever I Did fancy Bernard, I will love him still.

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Crip. Why, I'll be sworn thou didst.
Moll. And that I doated on him in my sleep?
Crip. I will be sworn I could not sleep all night
In the next room, thou didst so rave on him.

Moll. I cannot tell; I may well be deceiv'd.

I think I might affect him in my sleep;

And yet not know it. Let me look on him.
I'faith he is a pretty handsome fellow.
'Tis pity he should waste himself in prison.
Hey, ho!

Crip. What's the matter, wench?

Moll. Cripple, I will love him.

Crip. Wilt thou, i'faith?

Moll. I'faith I will.

Enter two Serjeants at Mace.

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Crip. Give me thy hand. A bargain! 'tis enough.
Moll. But how shall he know I love him?

Crip. Why thus. I will entreat the serjeants
To go with him along unto thy father;
And by the way I'll send young Bowdler from us,
·And then acquaint my Bernard with thy love :
He shall accept it and avouch the same
Unto thy father. Wench, do thou the like,
And then I hope his bonds are cancelled.

Bern. Cripple, shall we have your company?
Crip. My friends, hold here. There's money for
Walk with your prisoner but to Master Berry;
And ye shall either find sufficient bail,
Or else discharge the debt; or, I assure you,

We'll be your aid to guard him safe to prison.

1. Serj. Well, we are willing, sir: we are content

To show the gentleman any kind of favour.

Crip. Along, then! hark, Master Bowdler!

ACT V. SCENE I.

را

your pains.

[Exeunt.

1625-37

Master FLOWER'S House. Enter FLOWER, Mrs. FLOWER,

Master BERRY, and FIDDLE.

Flow. Welcome, good Master Berry! is your stomach up, sir? It is a good conceit, i'faith.

Fid. It is indeed, sir.

ing

162539

Flow. What, Fiddle?

Fid. If his stomach be up, to go to dinner.

Flow. Fiddle, bid Master Berry welcome.

Fid. What else, master? with the best belly in my heart, the sweetest strain in my music, and the worst entertainment that may be, Fiddle bids you worship Adesdum.

Ber. Thanks, Fiddle; and, Master Flower, I am much beholden to your courtesy.

Mrs. F. Fiddle, I wonder that he stays so long.
Thou told'st me Anthony would follow thee.

Fid. Ay; and he'll be here, I warrant you.
Flow. I'll tell you, sir. It is a rare conceit.
My wife would have her marry Anthony,
The younger brother, but against her mind,
I will contract her unto Ferdinand;

And I have sent for you and other friends

To witness it; and 'tis a good conceit.

Mrs. F. Fiddle, are all things order'd well within?

Fid. All's well, all's well; but there wants some saffron to colour the custards withal.

for.

Mrs. F. Here, take my keys. Bid Susan take enough.
Flow. Fiddle, are all our guests come yet?

Fid. Ay, sir; and here comes one more than you looked

Enter FRANK.

[Exit.

Frank. God save you, Master Flower. As much to you,
Master Berry.

Flow. Welcome, Master Goulding: y'are very welcome, sir.
Frank. My brother Ferdinand commends him to you.

And here's a letter to you from himself.

Flow. A letter, sir! It is a good conceit.

I'll read it straight.

[FRANK gives another letter to Mrs. FLOWER.