Than I could do: 'twas her own pleasure
To command me, that I should not come
'Till I was sent for; I had been with her.
Every minute of an hour else.

Witty. Truly, I believe you.
Pompey. Night and day'

She might have commanded me, and that she knew well enough;

I said as much to her between her and I;
Yet I protest, she is as honest a lady
For my part, that I'd say, if she would see me
hang'd.

If she be cast away, I cannot help it; [man.
She might have stay'd to have spoke with a
Witty. Well,

'Twas a hard miss on both parts.

Pompey. So it was;

I was within one of her, for all this cross luck; I was sure I was between the knight and home. Niece. Not gone yet? Oh, my heart! none regard my health?

Witty. Good sir, forbear her sight awhile! You hear how ill she brooks it.

Pompey. Foolish woman,

To overthrow her fortunes so! I shall think
The worse of a lady's wit while I live for't.
I could almost cry for anger! if she should
Miscarry now, 'twould touch my conscience
a little;

[do? And who knows what love and conceit inay What would people say, as I go along? "There goes he that the lady died for love on:' I am sure to hear on't i'th' streets; I shall weep

fore.

Beforehand. Foolish woman! I do grieve. More for thee now, than I did love thee be[thy husband's head, Well, go thy ways! Now wouldst thou spare And break thine own heart, if thou hadst any I would some other had been [wit. The cause of thy undoing; I shall be Twitted i'th' teeth with it, I'm sure of that: Foolish lady! [Exit.

Niece. So, so, this trouble's well shook off. Uncle, how do you? There's a dowry due, sir. Cunn. We have agreed it, sweetest, and find your uncle

Fully recover'd, kind to both of us.

Witty. To all the rest, I hope.

Olde. Never to thee, nor thee, easy cousin
Credulous:

Was your wit so raw?

Cred. Faith, yours sir, so long season'd, Has been faulty too, and very much to blame, Speaking it with reverence, uncle.

Greg. Yes, faith, sir,

You have paid as dear for your time, as any man here.

[Imprimis,

Witty. Ay, sir, and I'll reckon it to him. The first preface-cheat of a pair of pieces To the beggars; you remember that; I was the example to your bounty there, I spake Greek and Syriack, sir; you understand me now. [cousin ;

Next the robbery put, upon your indulgent

Which indeed was no robbery, no constable No justice, no thief, but all cheaters; There was a hundred mark, mark you that. Lastly, [music This memorable hundred pounds' worth of This was both cheats and wit too. And for The assistance of this gentleman to my cousin (For which I am to have a fee) that was A little practice of ny wit too, father. Will you

Come to composition yet, father?

Cunn. Yes, faith, sir, do!

Two hundred a-year will be easier [barren, Than so much weckly: I do not think he's If he should be put to't again.

Olde. Why,

[hav't; This was the day I look'd for! Thou shalt And the next cheat makes it up three hundred.

Live thou upon thy ten-pound vicarage; Thou get'st not a penny more: here's thy full Hire now.

Cred. I thank you, sir.

Witty. Why, there was the sum of all my wit, father,

[fear'd To shove him out of your favour, which I Would have disinherited me.

There

Olde. Most certain it had, Had not thy wit recover'd it. Is there any That had a hand with thee?

Witty. Yes, all these, sir.

Olde. Nephew, part a hundred pound amongst 'em;

I'll repay't. Wealth love me as I love wit; when I die,

I'll build an alms-house for decayed wits!

Greg. I'll entertain one in my lifetime: scholar,

You shall be my chaplain; I have the gift
Of twenty benefices, simple as I am here.
Pris. Thanks, my great patron!
Cunn. Sir, your gentry and

Your name shall both be rais'd as high
As my fortunes can reach 'em, for your friend's
sake.

Witty. Something will

Be in my present power, the future more;
You shall share with me.
[tlemen.
Ruin. and L. Ruin. Thanks, worthy gen
Niece. Sir, I would beg one thing of you.
Greg. You can

Beg nothing of me.

Witty. Oh, sir! if she begs, There's your power over her.

Greg. She has begg'd me

For a fool already, but 'tis no matter.

I have begg'd her for a lady, that she might

have been;

That's one for another.

Witty. Nay, but if she beg

Greg. Let her beg again then.

Niece. That your man Pompey's coat May come over his ears back again; I

would not

Will sometimes tender things unnecessary, Misconstrue not my purpose!

Clar. Sir, I dare not;

But still receive it as a large addition
To the much that I already stand engag'd for.
Yet, pardon me tho' I profess, upon
A true examination of myself,
Even to my private thoughts, I cannot find
(Having such strong supporters to uphold me)
On what slight ground the least doubt can
be rais'd,

To render me suspected I can fall
Or from my fame or virtue.

Ces. Far be't from me,

To nourish such a thought! and yet excuse me, As you would do a lapidary, whose whole fortunes

Depend upon the safety of one jewel:
If he think no case precious enough
To keep it in full lustre, nor no locks,
Tho' lending strength to iron doors, sufficient
To guard it, and secure lum! You to me are
A gem of more esteem, and prized higher,
Than usurers do their muck, or great men
title;

And any flaw (which Heav'n avert!) in you, (Whose reputation, like a diamond

Cut newly from the rock, women with envy, And men with covetous desires, look up at) By prying eyes discover'd, in a moment Would render what the braveries of Florence, For want of counterpoise, forbear to cheapen, Of little or no value.

Clar. I see, brother,

The mark you shoot at, and much thank your love:

But for my virgin jewel, which is brought
In comparison with your diamond, rest assur'd
It shall not fall in such a workman's hands,
Whose ignorance or malice shall have power

To cast one cloud upon it, but still keep
Her native splendor.

Ces. "Tis well; I commend you;
And study your advancement with that care
As I would do a sister's, whom I love
With more than common ardor2.

Clar. That from me

I hope's return'd to you.

Ces. I do confess it.

Yet let me tell you, (but still with that love
I wish t'encrease between us) that you are
Observ'd, against the gravity long maintain'd
In Italy (where to see a maid unmask'd
Is held a blemish), to be over-frequent
In giving or receiving visits.

Clar. How?

[picture,

Ces. Whereas the custom's here to wooe by And never see the substance. You are fair, And beauty draws temptations on, you know it:

I would not live to see a willing grant From you, to one unworthy of your birth, Feature or fortune; yet there have been ladies Of rank, proportion, and of means beyond

Clar. If I then borrow

A little of the boldness of his temper,
Imparting it to such as may deserve it,
(Howe'er indulgent to yourselves, you brothers
Allow no part of freedom to your sisters)
I hope 'twill not pass for a crime in me,
To grant access and speech to noble suitors,
And you escape for innocent, that descend
To a thing so far beneath you? Are you
touch'd?

Why, did you think that you had Giges' ring?
Or th' herb that gives invisibility?

Or that Biancha's name had ne'er been mention'd?

The Fair Maid of the grand Osteria, brother? Ces. No more!

Clar. A little, brother. Your night-walks, And offer'd presents, which coy she contemn'd;

Your combats in disguises with your

rivals,