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Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 09 of 10

Chapter 27: Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.
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About This Book

This volume collects several early seventeenth-century stage plays that blend comedy and tragicomedy. Action ranges from tempest-driven shipwrecks and desert-island survival to inns and courtly settings, where mistaken identities, romantic entanglements, revenge plots, and duels unfold. Plotting alternates tense situations with witty dialogue and comic relief as characters test loyalty, honor, and social pretension. Through abrupt reversals of fortune and reconciliations, the plays examine desire, deception, and the uncertain limits of virtue amid chaotic circumstances.

Foro. Come hither mine Host, look here.
Host. What's that?
Foro. A challenge from my man.
Host. For breaking's pate?
Foro. He writes here if I meet him not
I'th' Feild within this half hour,
I shall hear more from him.
Host. O sir, minde your profit,
Ne'er think of the rascall, here are the gentlemen.
Foro. 'Morrow my worthy clients,
What are you all prepar'd of your questions;
That I may give my resolution upon them?
Omnes. We are Sir.
Pedant. And have brought our mony.
Foro. Each then in order,
And differ not for precedency.
Dan. I am buying of an office Sir,
And to that purpose I would fain learn
To dissemble cunningly.
Foro. Doe you come to me for that? you should rather
Have gone to a cunning woman.
Danc. I sir but their Instructions are but like wom[e]n,
Pretty well but not to the depth, as I'd have it:
You are a conjurer, the devils Master,
And I would learn it from you so exactly.
Foro. That the devill himself
Might not go beyond you.
Dane. You are i'th' right Sir.
Foro. And so your mony for your purchase
Might come in again within a 12 month.
Danc. I would be a Graduate sir, no freshman.
F[e]ro. Here's my hand sir,
I will make you dissemble so methodically,
As if the divell should be sent from the great Turk,
In the shape of an Embassador
To set all the Christian princes at variance.
Danc. I cannot with any modesty desire any more.
There's your mony sir.
Foro. For the art of dissembling.
Cox. My suit sir will be news to you when I tell it.
Foro. Pray on.
Cox. I would set up a press here in Italy,
To write all the Corantos for Christendome.
Foro. That's news indeed,
And how would you imploy me in't?
Cox. Marry sir, from you
I would gain my intelligence.
Foro. I conceive you, you would have me furnish you
With a spirit to informe you.
Cox. But as quiet a Divell as the woman,
The first day and a half after she's married,
I can by no means indure a terrible one.
Foro. No, no, I'll qualifie him,
He shall not fright you,
It shall be the ghost of some lying Stationer,
A Spirit shall look as if butter would not melt in his
mouth. A new Mercurius Gallo-belgicus.
Cox. O there was a captain was rare at it.
Foro. Ne'er thinke of him,
Though that captain writ a full hand gallop,
And wasted indeed more harmeless paper than
Ever did laxative Physick,
Yet will I make you to out-scribble him,
And set down what you please,
The world shall better believe you.
Cox. Worthy sir I thank you, there's mony.
Foro. A new office
For writing pragmaticall Curranto's.
Pedant. I am a school-master sir,
And would fain conferre with you
About erecting 4 new sects of religion at Amsterdam.
Foro. What the Divell should
New sects of religion doe there?
Pedant. I assure you I would get
A great deal of money by it.
Foro. And what are the 4 new sects
Of religion you would plant there?
Ped. Why that's it I come about sir,
'Tis a Divel of your raising must invent 'em,
I confess I am too weak to compass it.
Foro. So sir, then you make it a matter of no difficulty
To have them tolerated.
Pedant. Trouble not your self for that,
Let but your Divel set them a foot once.
I have Weavers, and Ginger-bread makers,
And mighty Aquavitæ-men, shall set them a going.
Foro. This is somewhat difficult,
And will aske some conference with the divell.
Ped. Take your own leasure sir,
I have another business too, because I mean
To leave Italy, and bury my self in those neather parts
Of the low countries.
Foro. What's that sir.
Ped. Marry I would fain make 9 dayes to the week,
for the more ample benefit of the captain.
Foro. You have a shrewd pate sir.
Ped. But how this might be compass'd?
Foro. Compass'd easily; tis but making
A new Almanack, and dividing the compass
Of the year into larger penny-worths,
As a Chandler with his compass makes
A Geometrick proportion of the Holland cheese
He retailes by stivers.
But for getting of it licenc'd?
Ped. Trouble not your self with that sir,
There's your mony.
Foro. For four new sects of religions,
And 9 dayes to the week.
Ped. To be brought in at general pay-dayes,
Write I beseech you.
Foro. At generall pay-dayes.
Taylor. I am by profession a Taylor,
You have heard of me.
Foro. Yes sir, and will not steal from you
The least part of that commendation I have heard utter'd.
Taylor. I take measure of your worth sir,
And because I will not afflict you with any large bill
Of circumstances, I will snip off particulars.
I would fain invent some strange
And exquisite new fashions.
Foro. Are you not travel'd sir.
Tay. Yes sir, but have observ'd all we can see
Or invent, are but old ones with new names to'em,
Now I would some way or other grow more curious.
Foro. Let me see; to devise new fashions—
Were you never in the Moon?
Tay. In the Moon tavern! yes sir, often.
Foro. No, I do mean in the new world,
In the world that's in the Moon yonder.
Tay. How? a new world 'ith' moon?
Foro. Yes I assure you.
Tay. And peopled?
Foro. O most fantastically peopled.
Tay. Nay certain then there's work for taylors?
Foro. That there is I assure you.
Tay. Yet I have talked with a Scotch taylor
That never discover'd so much to me,
Though he has travell'd far, and was a pedlar in Poland.
Foro. That was out of his way,
This lies beyond China:
You would study new fashions you say?
Take my councell, make a voyage,
And discover that new world.
Tay. Shall I be a moon-man?
Foro. I am of opinion, the people of that world
(If they be like the nature of that climate they live in)
Do vary the fashion of their cloaths oftener than any
Quick-silver'd nation in Europe.
Tay. Not unlikely, but what should that be we call
The man in the moon then?
Foro. Why 'tis nothing but an Englishman
That stands there stark naked,
With a pair of sheers in one hand,
And a great bundle of broad cloath in the other
(Which resembles the bush of thorns)
Cutting out of new fashions.
Taylor. I have heard somewhat like this,
But how shall I get thither?
Foro. I'll make a new compass shall direct you.
Tay. Certain?
Foro. Count me else for no man of direction.
Tay. There's 20 duckats in hand, at my return
I'll give you a 100.
Foro. A new voyage to discover new fashions.
Mul. I have been a traveller too sir,
That have shewed strange beasts in Christendome,
And got money by them, but I find the trade to decay.
Your Camelion, or East-Indian hedg-hog
Gets very little mony, and your Elephant devours
So much bread, brings in so little profit,
His keeper were better every morning
Cram 15 Taylors with white manchet:
I would have some new spectacle,
And one that might be more attractive.

Foro. Let me see, were you ever in Spain?

Mule. Not yet Sir.

Foro. I would have you go to Madrill, and against some great festivall, when the court lies there, provide a great and spacious Eng[li]sh Oxe, and rost him whole, with a pudding in's bely; that would be the eighth wonder of the world in those parts I assure you.

Mule. A rare project without question.

Foro. Goe beyond all their garlike olle padridoes, though you sod one in Garguentuas couldron, bring in more money, then all the monsters of Affrick.

Host. Good Sir do your best for him; he's of my acquaintance, and one if ye knew him—

Foro. What is he?

Host. He was once a man of infinite letters.

Foro. A Scholar?

Host. No sir, a packet carrier, which is alwaies a man of many letters, you know: then he was Mule-driver, now he's a gentleman, and feeds monsters.

Foro. A most ungratefull calling.

Mule. There's money for your direction; the price of the Oxe Sir?

Foro. A hundred French crowns, for it must be a Lincolne-shire Oxe, and a prime one: For a rare and monstrous spectacle, to be seen at Madrill.

Enter Clown, Hostess, and Bianca.

Hostes. Pray forbear sir, we shall have a new quarrell.

Clow. You durst not meet me 'ith field, I am therefore come to spoyl your market.

Foro. What's the newes with you sir.

Clow. Gentlemen, you that come hither to be most abominably cheated, listen, and be as wise as your planet will suffer you, keep your mony, be not gul'd, be not laught at.

Pedant. What means this? would I had my mony again in my pocket.

Host. The fellow is full of malice, do not mind him.

Clow. This profest cheating rogue was my master, and I confess my self a more preternotorious rogue than himself, in so long keeping his villainous counsell.

Foro. Come, come, I will not hear you.

Clow. No couz'ner, thou wouldest not hear me, I do but dare thee to suffer me to speak, and then thou and all thy divells spit fire, and spout Aqua fortis.

Foro. Speak on, I freely permit thee.

Clow. Why then know all you simple animals, you whose purses are ready to cast the calf; if they have not cast it already, if you give any credit to this jugling rascal, you are worse than simple widgins, and will be drawn into the net by this decoy duck, this tame cheater.

Foro. Ha, ha, ha, pray mark him.

Clow. He does profess Physicke, and counjuring; for his Physick; he has but two medicines for all manner of diseases; when he was i'th' low countryes, he us'd nothing but butter'd beer, colour'd with Allegant, for all kind of maladies, and that he called his catholick med'cine; sure the Dutch smelt out it was butter'd beer, else they would never have endur'd it for the names sake: then does he minister a grated Dogs turd instead of Rubarb, many times of Unicornes horn, which working strongly with the conceit of the Patient, would make them bescummer to the height of a mighty purgation.

Foro. The rogue has studied this invective.

Clow. Now for his conjuring, the witches of Lapland are the divells chare-women to him, for they will sell a man a wind to some purpose; he sells wind, and tells you fortie lyes over and over.

Hostess. I thought what we should find of him.

Host. Hold your prating, be not you an heretick.

Clow. Conjure! I'll tell you, all the divells names he calls upon are but fustion names, gather'd out of welch heraldry; in breif, he is a rogue of six reprieves, four pardons of course, thrice pilloried, twice sung Lacrymæ to the Virginalls of a carts tail, h'as five times been in the Gallies, and will never truely run himself out of breath, till he comes to the gallowes.

Foro. You have heard worthy gentlemen, what this lying, detracting rascall has vomited.

Tay. Yes certain, but we have a better trust in you, for you have ta'en our money.

Foro. I have so, truth is he was my servant, and for some chastisement I gave him, he does practise thus upon me; speak truely sirra, are you certain I cannot conjure?

Clow. Conjure! ha, ha, ha.

Foro. Nay, nay, but be very sure of it.

Clow. Sure of it? why I'll make a bargain with thee, before all these gentlemen, use all thy art, all thy roguery, and make me do any thing before al this company I have not a mind to, I'll first give thee leave to claime me for thy bond slave, and when thou hast done hang me.

Foro. 'Tis a match, sirra, I'll make you caper i'th' air presently.

Clow. I have too solid a body, and my belief is like a Puritans on Good-Friday, too high fed with capon.

Foro. I will first send thee to Green-land for a haunch of venison, just of the thickness of thine own tallow.

Clow. Ha, ha, ha, I'll not stir an inch for thee.

Foro. Thence to Amboyna i'th' East-Indies, for pepper to bake it.

Clow. To Amboyna? so I might be pepper'd.

Foro. Then will I conveigh thee stark naked to Develing to beg a pair of brogs, to hide thy mountainous buttocks.

Clow. And no doublet to 'em?

Foro. No sir, I intend to send you of a sleeveless errand; but before you vanish, in regard you say I cannot conjure, and are so stupid, and opinionated a slave, that neither I, nor my art can compell you to do any thing that's beyond your own pleasure, the gentlemen shall have some sport, you cannot endure a cat sirra?

Clow. What's that to thee Jugler?

Foro. Nor you'll do nothing at my entreaty?

Clow. I'll be hang'd first.

Foro. Sit Gentlemen, and whatsoever you see, be not frighted.

Hostess. Alas I can endure no conjuring.

Host. Stir not wife.

Bian. Pray let me go sir, I am not fit for these fooleryes.

Host. Move not daughter.

For. I wil make you dance a new dance call'd leap-frog.

Clow. Ha, ha, ha.

For. And as naked as a frog.

Clow. Ha, ha, ha, I defie thee.

[Forobosco looks in a book, strikes with his wand, Musick playes.

Enter 4. Boyes shaped like Frogs, and dance.

P[e]dant. Spirits of the water in the likeness of frogs.

Tay. He has fisht fair believe me.

Mule. See, see, he sweats and trembles.

Foro. Are you come to your quavers?

Clow. Oh, ho, ho.

Foro. I'll make you run division on that o'r ere I leave you; looke you, here are the playfellowes that are so indear'd to you; come sir, first uncase, and then dance, nay I'll make him dance stark naked.

Host. Oh let him have his shirt on and his Mogols breeches, here are Women ith' house.

Foro. Well for their sakes he shall.

[Clown teares off his doublet, making strange faces as if compel'd to it, falls into the Dance.

Tay. He dances, what a lying rogue was this to say the gentleman could not conjure!

Foro. He does prettily well, but 'tis voluntary, I assure you, I have no hand in't.

Clow. As you are a Counjurer, and a rare Artist, free me from these couplets; of all creatures I cannot endure a Frog.

Foro. But your dancing is voluntary, I can compell you to nothing.

Hostes. O me, daughter, lets take heed of this fellow, he'll make us dance naked, an' we vex him. [—Exeunt Hostess and Bianca.

Foro. Now cut capers sirra, I'll plague that chine of yours.

Clow. Ho, ho, ho, my kidneys are rosted. I drop away like a pound of butter rosted.

Tayl. He will dance himself to death.

Foro. No matter I'll sell his fat to the Pothecaries, and repair my injury that way.

Host. Enough in conscience.

Foro. Well, at your entreaty vanish. And now I wil only make him break his neck in doing a sommerset, and that's all the revenge I mean to take of him.

Clow. O gentlemen, what a rogue was I to belye so an approved Master in the noble dark science? you can witness, this I did only to spoyle his practise and deprive you of the happyness of injoying his worthy labors; rogue that I was to do it, pray sir forgive me.

Foro. With what face canst thou ask it?

Clow. With such a face as I deserve, with a hanging look, as all here can testifie.

Foro. Well gentlemen, that you may perceive the goodness of my temper, I will entertain this rogue againe in hope of amendment, for should I turn him off, he would be hang'd.

Clow. You may read that in this foul coppy.

Foro. Only with this promise, you shall never cozen any of my patients.

Clow. Never.

Foro. And remember hence forward, that though I cannot conjure, I can make you dance sirra, go get your self into the cottage again.

Enter Cæsario.

Clow. I will never more dance leap-Frog: now I have got you into credit, hold it up, and cozen them in abundance.

Foro. Oh rare rascall. [—Exit Clown.

Cesar. How now, a Frankford mart here, a Mountebank, and his worshipfull auditory?

Host. They are my guests Sir.

Cesar. A —— upon them, shew your jugling tricks in some other room.

Host. And why not here Sir?

Cesar. Hence, or sirra I shall spoil your figure flinging, and all their radicall questions.

Omnes. Sir we vanish. [Exeunt. Manet Host. & Cesar.

Host. Signior Cesario, you make bold with me,
And somewhat I must tell you to a degree
Of ill manners: they are my guests, and men I live by,
And I would know by what authority
You command thus far.
Cesar. By my interest in your daughter.
Host. Interest do you call't? as I remember I never put
her out to Usury on that condition.
Cesar. Pray thee be not angry.

Enter Bianca and Hostess.

I am come to make thee happy, and her happy:
She's here; alas my pretty soul, I am come
To give assurance that's beyond thy hope,
Or thy beleif, I bring repentance 'bout me,
And satisfaction, I will marry thee.
Bianca. Ha?
Cesar. As I live I will, but do not entertain't
With too quick an apprehension of joy,
For that may hurt thee, I have heard some dye of't.
Bian. Do not fear me.
Cesar. Then thou think'st I feign
This protestation, I will instantly
Before these testifie my new alliance,
Contract my self unto thee, then I hope
We may be more private.
Host. But thou shalt not sir,
For so has many a maiden-head been lost, and many a bastard gotten.
Ces. Then to give you the best of any assurance in the world,
Entreat thy father to go fetch a Preist
Wee will instantly to bed, and there be married.
Bian. Pride hath not yet forsaken you I see,
Though prosperity has.
Host. Sir you are too confident
To fashion to your self a dream of purchase
When you are a begger.
Ces. You are bold with me.
Hostes. Doe we not know your value is cried down
Fourscore i'th' hundred.
Bian. Oh sir I did love you
With such a fixed heart, that in that minute
Wherein you slighted, or contemn'd me rather,
I took a vow to obey your last decree,
And never more look up at any hope
Should bring me comfort that way: and though since
Your Foster-mother, and the fair Clarissa
Have in the way of marriage despis'd you,
That hath not any way bred my revenge,
But compassion rather. I have found
So much sorrow in the way to a chaste wedlock
That here I will set down, and never wish
To come to'th' journies end. Your suit to mee
Henceforth be ever silenc'd.
Cesar. My Bianca.
Hostes. Henceforward pray forbear her and my house:
She's a poor virtuous wench, yet her estate
May weigh with yours in a gold balance.
Host. Yes, and her birth in any Heralds office in
Christendom.
Hostes. It may prove so:
When you'll say, you have leapt a Whiting. [Exit.

Enter Baptista and Mentivole.

Ces. How far am I grown behind hand with fortune!
Bap. Here's Cesario!
My son Sir, is to morrow to be married
Unto the fair Clarissa.
Ces. So.
Ment. Wee hope you'll be a guest there.
Ces. No I will not grace your triumph so much.
Bap. I will not tax your breeding.
But it alters not your birth Sir, fare you well.
Ment. Oh Sir, doe not greive him,
He has too much affliction already. [Exeunt.

Enter a Sailor.

Ces. Every way scorn'd and lost,
Shame follow you
For I am grown most miserable.
Sail. Sir do you know a Ladies son in town here
They cal Cesario?

Cesar. There's none such I assure thee.

Sail. I was told you were the man.

Cesar. What's that to thee?

Sail. A —— on't. You are melancholy, will you drink Sir?

Cesar. With whom?

Sail. With me Sir; despise not this pitch'd Canvas; the
time was we have known them lin'd with Spanish Duckets;
I have news for you:
Cesar. For me!
Sail. Not unless you'll drink;
We are like our Sea provision, once out of pickle,
We require abundance of drink; I have news to tell you,
That were you Prince,
Would make you send your mandate
To have a thousand bonfires made i'th' City
And pist out agen with nothing but Greek wine.
Cesar. Come, I will drink with thee howsoever.
Sail. And upon these terms I will utter my mind to you. [Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Alberto, Prospero, Juliana and Sailors.

Sail.
Shall we bring your necessaries ashore my Lord?
Alb. Do what you please, I am land-sick, worse by far
Than ere I was at sea.
Pros. Collect your self.
Alber. O my most worthy Prospero, my best friend,
The noble favor I receiv'd from thee
In freeing me from the Turks I now accompt
Worse than my death; for I shall never live
To make requitall; what do you attend for?
Sail. To understand your pleasure.
Alber. They do mock me;
I do protest I have no kind of pleasure
In any thing i'th' world, but in thy friendship,
I must ever except that.
Pros. Pray leave him, leave him.—— [Exeunt Sailors.
Alber. The news I heard related since my landing
Of the division of my Family,
How is it possible for any man
To bear't with a set patience?
Pros. You have suffer'd
Since your imprisonment more waighty sorrows.
Alber. I, then I was man of flesh and blood,
Now I am made up of fire, to the full height
Of a deadly Calenture; O these vild women
That are so ill preservers of mens honors,
They cannot govern their own honesties.
That I should thirty and odd winters feed
My expectation of a noble heir,
And by a womans falshood find him now
A fiction, a mere dream of what he was;
And yet I love him still.
Pros. In my opinion
The sentence (on this tryall) from the Duke
Was noble, to repair Cesario's loss
With the marriage of your wife, had you been dead.
Alber. By your favor but it was not, I conceive
T'was disparagement to my name, to have my widdow
Match with a Faulkeiners son, and yet beli've't
I love the youth still, and much pitty him.
I do remember at my going to Sea,
Upon a quarrel, and a hurt receiv'd
From young Mentivole, my rage so far
Oretopt my nobler temper, I gave charge
To have his hand cut off, which since I heard,
And to my comfort, brave Cesario,
Worthyly prevented.
Pros. And 'twas nobly done.
Albert Yet the revenge, for this intent of mine
Hath bred much slaughter in our families,
And yet my wife (which infinitely moans me)
Intends to marry my sole heir Clarissa
To the head branch of the other faction.
Pros. 'Tis the mean to work reconcilement.
Alber. Between whom?
Pros. Your self and the worthy Baptista.
Alber. Never.
Pros. O you have been of a noble and remarkable friendship,
And by this match 'tis generally in Florence
Hop'd, 'twill fully be reconcil'd; to me
'Twould be absolute content.
Julia. And to my self, I have main interest in it.
Alb. Noble Sir, you may command my heart to break for you
But never to bend that way; poor Cesario,
When thou put'st on thy mournfull willow-garland,
Thy enemy shall be suted (I do vow)
In the same livery, my Cesario
Loved as my foster child, though not my Son,
Which in some countryes formerly were barbarous,
Was a name held most affectionate; thou art lost,
Unfortunate young man, not only slighted
Where thou received'st thy breeding, but since scorn'd
I th' way of marriage, by the poor Bianca
The In-keepers daughter.
Pros. I have heard of that too;
But let not that afflict you: for this Lady
May happily deliver at more leasure
A circumstance may draw a fair event,
Better than you can hope for.
For this present we must leave you,
And shall visit you again within these two hours.

----Enter Cesario.

Albert. Ever to me most welcome,——O my Cesario.
Cesar. I am none of yours Sir, so 'tis protested;
And I humbly beg,
Since 'tis not in your power to preserve me
Any longer in a noble course of life,
Give me a worthy death.
Alber. The youth is mad.
Cesar. Nay Sir, I will instruct you in a way
To kill me honorably.
Alber. That were most strange.
Cesar. I am turning Pirate, You may be imployed
By the Duke to fetch me in; and in a Sea-fight
Give me a noble grave.
Alber. Questionless he's mad: I would give any Doctor
A thousand crowns to free him from this sorrow.
Cesar. Here's the Physitian.——Shewes a Poniard.
Alber. Hold Sir, I did say
To free you from the sorrow, not from life.
Cesar. Why life and sorrow are unseparable.
Alber. Be comforted Cesario, Mentivole
Shall not marry Clarissa.
Cesar. No Sir, ere he shall, I'll kill him.
Alb[e]r. But you forfeit your own life then.
Cesar. That's worth nothing.
Alber. Cesario, be thy self, be mine Cesario:
Make not thy self uncapable of that portion
I have full purpose to confer upon thee,
By falling into madness: bear thy wrongs
With noble patience, the afflicted's friend
Which ever in all actions crowns the end.
Ces. You well awak'd me; nay recover'd me
Both to sence and full life, O most noble sir,
Though I have lost my fortune, and lost you
For a worthy Father: yet I will not lose
My former virtue, my integrity
Shall not yet forsake me; but as the wild Ivy,
Spreads and thrives better in some pittious ruin
Of tower, or defac'd Temple, than it does
Planted by a new building; so shall I
Make my adversity my instrument
To winde me up into a full content.
Alber. 'Tis worthily resolv'd; our first adventure
Is to stop the marriage; for thy other losses,
Practis'd by a womans malice, but account them
Like conjurers winds rais'd to a fearfull blast,
And do some mischeif, but do never last. [Exeunt.

Enter Forobosco and Clown.

Clow. Now sir, will you not acknowledge that I have mightily advanc'd your practice?

Forobos. 'Tis confest, and I will make thee a great man for't.

Clow. I take a course to do that my self, for I drink sack in abundance.

Foro. O my rare rascall! We must remove.

Clow. Whither?

Foro. Any whither: Europe is too little to be coz'ned by us, I am ambitious to go to the East-Indies, thou and I to ride on our brace of Elephants.

Clow. And for my part I long to be in England agen; you will never get so much as in England, we have shifted many countryes, and many names: but trance the world over you shall never purse up so much gold as when you were in England, and call'd your self Doctor Lambe-stones.

Foro. 'Twas an atractive name I confess, women were then my only admirers.

Clow. And all their visits was either to further their lust, or revenge injuries.

Foro. You should have forty in a morning beleaguer my closet, and strive who should be cozen'd first, amongst four-score love-sick waiting women that has come to me in a morning to learn what fortune should betide them in their first marriage, I have found above 94 to have lost their maiden-heads.

Clow. By their own confession, but I was fain to be your male midwife, and work it out of them by circumstance.

Foro. Thou wast, and yet for all this frequent resort of women and thy hand[l]ing of their urinals and their cases, thou art not given to lechery, what should be the reason of it? thou hast wholsome flesh enough about thee; me thinks the divell should tempt thee to't.

Clow. What need he do that, when he makes me his instrument to tempt others.

Foro. Thou canst not chuse but utter thy rare good parts; thou wast an excellent baud I acknowledge.

Clow. Well, and what I have done that way, I will spare to speak of all you and I have done sir, and though we should—

Foro. We will for England, that's for certain.

Clow. We shall never want there.

Foro. Want? their Court of Wards shall want money first: for I profess my self Lord Paramount over fools a[n]d madfolkes.

Clow. Do but store your self with lyes enough against you come thither.

Foro. Why that's all the familiarity I ever had with the Divell, my guift of lying, they say he's the Father of lyes; and though I cannot conjure, yet I profess my self to be one of his poor gossips. I will now reveale to thee a rare peece of service.

Clow. What is it my most worshipful Doctor Lamb-stones?

Foro. There is a Captain come lately from Sea,
They call Prosper, I saw him this morning
Through a chink of wainscote that divides my lodging,

And the Host of the house, withdraw my Host, and Hostess, the fair Biancha, and an antient gentlewoman into their bedchamber; I could not overhear their conference, but I saw such a mass of gold & Jewels, & when he had done he lock't it up into a casket; great joy there was amongst them, & forth they are gone into the city, and my Host told me at his going forth he thought he should not return till after supper: now Sir, in their absence will we fall to our picklocks, enter the chamber, seize the Jewels, make an escape from Florence, and we are made for ever.

Clow. But if they should go to a true conjurer, and fetch us back in a whirle-wind?

Foro. Do not believe there is any such fetch in Astrology, and this may be a means to make us live honest hereafter.

Clow. 'Tis but an ill road to't that lyes through the high way of theeving.

Foro. For indeed I am weary of this trade of fortune-telling; and mean to give all over, when I come into England, for it is a very ticklish quality.

Clow. And i'th' end will hang by a twine thred.

Foro. Besides the Island has too many of the profession, they hinder on[e] anothers market.

Clow. No, no, the pillory hinders their market.

Foro. You know there the jugling captain.

Clow. I there's a sure card.

Foro. Only the fore-man of their jury is dead, but he dyed like a Roman.

Clow. Else 'tis thought he had made work for the hangman.

Foro. And the very Ball, of your false prophets, he's quasht too.

Clow. He did measure the stars with a false yard, and may now travail to Rome, with a morter on's head to see if he can recover his money that way.

Foro. Come, come, lets fish for this casket, and to Sea presently.