Tru. And are extremely folicitous for you, Sir. Mor. Whofe knave are you ?

Tru. Mine own knave, and your compeer, Sir. Mor. Fetch me my sword [Mute going. Tru.' You fhall tafte the one half of my dagger, if you do, groom; and you the other, if you ftir, Sir: Be patient, I charge you, in the king's name, and hear me without infurrection. They say, you are to marry; to marry! do you mark, Sir? Mar. How then, rude companion?

Tru. Marry, your friends do wonder, Sir, the Thames being fo near, wherein you may drown fo handsomely, or London-Bridge, at a low fall, with a fine leap to hurry you down the stream! or fuch a delicate fteeple in the town as Bow, to vault from; or a braver height, as Paul's; or, if you affected to do it nearer home, and a fhorter way, an excellent garret-window into the ftreet; or, a beam in the faid garret, with this halter, [He fhews him a halter.] which they have fent, and defire that you would fooner commit your grave head to this knot, than to the wedlock noofe; or take a little fublimate, and go out of the world, like a rat: Any way, rather than to follow this goblin Matrimony, Alas, Sir, do you ever think to find a chafte wife, in thefe times? now? when there are fo many mafques,

mafques, plays, fanatical preachers, mad folks, and other ftrange fights to be seen, daily private and publick? If you had liv'd in king Ethelred's time, Sir, or Edward the Confeffor's, you might, perhaps, have found in fome cold country hamlet, then, a dull frofty wench, would have been contented with one man: Now, they will as foon be pleas'd with one leg, or one eye. I'll tell you, Sir, the monftrous hazards you fhall run with a wife,

Mor. Good Sir, have I ever cozen'd any friends of yours of their land? bought their poffeffions? taken forfeit of their mortgage? begg'd a reverfion from 'em? what have I done that may deferve this?

Tru. Nothing, Sir, that I know, but your itch of marriage.

Mor. Why, if I had affaffinated your father,. vitiated your mother, ravish'd your fifters Tru. I would kill you, Sir, I would kill you, if you had.

Mor. Why, you do more in this, Sir.

Tru. Alas, Sir, I am but a meffenger: I but tell you, what you must hear. It feems, your friends are careful after your foul's health, Sir, and would have you know the danger; if, after you are married, your wife do run away with a vaulter, or the Frenchman

Frenchman that walks upon ropes, why, it is not their fault; they have discharged their confciences, when you know what may happen.

Mor. No more, for Heaven's fake, Sir!

Tru. Nay, suffer valiantly, Sir, for I must tell you all the perils that you are obnoxious to. If fhe be fair, and young, no sweatmeats ever drew more flies. If foul and crooked, fhe'll be with them. If rich, and that you marry her dowry, not her, fhe'll reign in your house, as imperious as a widow. If noble, all her kindred will be your tyrants. If fruitful, as proud as May and humourous as April. If learned, there was never such a parrot. You begin to fweat, Sir, but this is not half, i'faith. Upon my faith, master serving-man, if you do ftir, I will beat you.

Mor. Oh, what is my fin? what is
fin? what is my fin?

Tru. Then, if you love your wife, or rather dote on her, Sir; oh, how fhe'll torture you! and take pleasure i' your torments! You must keep what fervants fhe pleafe; what company fhe will; that friend must not vifit you without her licence; and him the loves moft, she will seem to hate moft, to decline your jealoufy; or, feign to be jealous of you first; and for that caufe go live with her fhefriend, that can instruct her in all the mysteries of

writing

writing letters, corrupting fervants, taming spies; where the must have that rich gown for fuch a great day; a new one for the next; a richer for the third; be ferv'd in filver; have the chamber fill'd with a fucceffion of grooms, footmen, ufhers, and other meffengers; befides embroiderers, jewellers, tirewomen, fempfters, feather-men, perfumers; while fhe feels not how the land drops away, nor the acres melt; nor forefees the change, when the mercer has your woods for her velvets.

Mor. Gentle Sir, ha' you done? ha' you had your pleasure o' me?

Tru. Yes, Sir: God b'w' you, Sir. [Going returns.] One thing more (which I had almost forgot). This too, with whom you are to marry, may have made a conveyance of her virginity aforehand, as your wife widows do of their states, before they marry, in truft to fome friend, Sir, and antedate you cuckold. The like has been heard of in nature. "Tis no devis'd impoffible thing, Sir. God b'w' you! I'll be bold to leave this rope with you, Sir, for a remembrance. Farewell, Mute.

[Exit.

Mor. Come, ha' me to my chamber: But first fhut the door. Oh, fhut the door: Is he come again? [The horn again.

Enter

Enter Cutberd.

Cutb. 'Tis I, Sir, your barber,

Mor. Oh, Cutberd, Cutberd, Cutberd! here has been a cut-throat with me: Help me in to my bed, and give me phyfick with thy counsel. [Exeunt.

Scene changes to Sir John Daw's.

Enter Daw, Clerimont, Dauphine, and Epicone. Daw. Nay, an fhe will, let her refuse at her own charges: 'Tis nothing to me, gentlemen. But she will not be invited to the like feasts or guests every day.

Cler. Oh, by no means, fhe may not refuse-to stay at home, if you love your reputation: 'Slight, you are invited thither o' purpose to be feen, and laugh'd at by the lady of the college, and her fhadows. This trumpeter hath proclaim'd you.

[They diffuade her privately. Dau. You fhall not go; let him be laugh'd at in your fstead, for not bringing you: And put him to his faculty of fooling, and talking loud to fatisfy the company.

Cler. He will fufpect us; talk aloud. Pray, miftrefs Epicone, let's fee your verfes; we have Sir John Daw's leave: Do not conceal your fervant's merit, and your own glories.

Daw.