I would not be a Servingman to carry the cloke-bag still.
 Nor would I be a Fawlconer the greedy Hawkes to fill.
 But I would be in a good house, and have a good Master too:
 B[u]t I would eat and drink of the best, and no work would I do.

This is [it] that keeps life and soul together, mirth: this is the Philosophers stone that they write so much on, that keeps a man ever young.

Enter a Boy.

Boy. Sir, they say they know all your Money is gone, and they will trust you for no more drink.

Old mer. Will they not? let 'em chuse: the best is I have mirth at home, and need not send abroad for that; let them keep their drink to themselves.

For Jillian of Berry, she dwells on a hill,
 And she hath good Beer and Ale to sell,
 And of good fellows she thinks no ill,
 And thither will we go now, now, now, and thither
 Will we go now.
 And when you have made a little stay,
 You need not [aske] what is to pay,
 But kiss your Hostess and go your way. And thither, &c.

Enter another Boy.

2. Boy. Sir, I can get no bread for supper.

Old mer. Hang bread and supper, let's preserve our mirth, and we shall never feel hunger, I'll warrant you, let's have a Catch, boy follow me, come sing this Catch.

Ho, ho, no body at home, meat, nor drink, nor money ha we none, fill the pot Eedy, never more need I.

Old mer. So boyes enough, follow me, let's change our place and we shall laugh afresh. [Exeunt.

Wife. Let him go George, a shall not have any countenance from us, not a good word from any i'th' Company, if I may strike stroke in't.

Cit. No more, a shannot love; but Nell, I will have Rafe do a very notable matter now, to the eternal honour and glory of all Grocers: sirrah, you there, boy, can none of you hear?

Boy. Sir, your pleasure.

Cit. Let Rafe come out on May day in the morning, and speak upon a Conduit with all his Scarfs about him, and his Feathers, and his Rings, and his Knacks.

Boy. Why sir, you do not think of our plot, what will become of that then?

Cit. Why sir, I care not what become on't, I'll have him come out, or I'll fetch him out my self, I'll have something done in honor of the City: besides he hath been long enough upon Adventures, bring him out quickly, [or if] I come [in] amongst you—

Boy. Well sir, he shall come out, but if our Play miscarry, Sir you are like to pay for't. [Exit.

Cit. Bring him away then.

Wife. This will be brave i'faith: George shall not he dance the Morrice too for the credit of the Strand.

Cit. No sweet-heart it will be too much for the boy. O there he is Nell, he's reasonable well in reparel, but he has not Rings enough.

Enter Rafe.

Rafe. London, to thee I do present the merry Month of May,
 Let each true Subject be content to hear me what I say:
 For from the top of Conduit head, as plainly may appear,
 I will both tell my name to you, and wherefore I came here.
 My name is Rafe, by due descent, though not ignoble I,
 Yet far inferiour to the flock of gracious Grocery.
 And by the Common-counsel of my fellows in the Strand,
 With gilded Staff, and crossed Skarfe, the May-lord here I stand.
 Rejoyce O English hearts, rejoyce, rejoyce O Lovers dear;
 Rejoyce O City, Town, and Countrey, rejoyce eke every Shire;
 For now the [fr]agrant flowers do spring and sprout in seemly sort,
 The little Birds do sit and sing, the Lambs do make fine sport,
 And now the Burchin Tree doth bud that makes the Schoolboy cry,
 The Morrice rings while Hobby horse doth foot it featuously:
 The Lords and Ladies now abroad for their disport and play,
 Do kiss sometimes upon the Grass, and sometimes in the Hay.
 Now butter with a leaf of Sage is good to purge the blood,
 Fly Venus and Phlebotomy for they are neither good.
 Now little fish on tender stone, begin to cast their bellies,
 And sluggish snails, that erst were mute, do creep out of their shellies,
 The rumbling Rivers now do warm for little boys to paddle,
 The Sturdy Steed, now goes to grass, and up they hang his saddle.
 The heavy Hart, the blowing Buck, the Rascall and the Pricket,
 Are now among the Yeomans Pease, and leave the fearful thicket.
 And be like them, O you, I say, of this same noble Town,
 And lift aloft your velvet heads, and slipping of your gown:
 With bels on legs, and napkins clean unto your shoulders ti'de,
 With Scarfs and Garters as you please, and Hey for our Town cry'd:
 March out and shew your willing minds, by twenty, and by twenty,
 To Hogsdon or to Newington, where Ale and Cakes are plenty.
 And let it nere be said for shame, that we the youths of London,
 Lay thruming of our caps at home, and left our custom undone.
 Up then I say, both young and old, both man and maid a Maying
 With Drums and Guns that bounce aloud, and merry Taber playing.
 Which to prolong, God save our King, and send his Countrey peace,
 And root out Treason from the Land, and so my friends I cease.

Finis Act. 4.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Merchant solus.

Merch. I will have no great store of company at the wedding, a couple of neighbors and their wives, and we will have a Capon in stewed broth, with marrow, and a good piece of beef, stuck with Rose-mary.

Enter Jasper[,] his face mealed.

Jasp. Forbear thy pains fond man, it is too late.
Merch. Heaven bless me: Jasper?
Jasp. I, I am his Ghost
 Whom thou hast injur'd for his constant love:
 Fond worldly wretch, who dost not understand
 In death that true hearts cannot parted be.
 First know thy daughter is quite born away,
 On wings o[f] Angels: through the liquid Ayre
 Too far out of thy reach, and never more
 Shalt thou behold her face: But she and I
 Will in another world enjoy our loves,
 Where neither fathers anger, poverty,
 Nor any cross that troubles earthly men
 Shall make us sever our united hearts,
 And never shall thou sit, or be alone
 In any place, but I will visit thee
 With gastly looks, and put into thy mind
 The great offences which thou didst to me.
 When thou art at thy Table with thy friends,
 Merry in heart, and fild with swelling wine,
 I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth,
 Invisible to all men but thy self,
 And whisper such a sad tale in thine ear,
 Shall make thee let the Cup fall from thy hand,
 And stand as mute and pale as Death itself.
Merch. Forgive me Jasper; Oh! what might I do?
 Tell me to satisfie thy troubled Ghost?
Jasp. There is no means, too late thou thinkst on this.
Mer. But tell me what were best for me to do?
Jasp. Repent thy deed, and satisfie my father,
 And beat fond Humphrey out of thy doors. [Exit Jasp.

Enter Humphrey.

Wife. Look George, his very Ghost would have folks beaten.

Hum. Father, my bride is gone, fair Mistris Luce,
 My soul's the font of vengeance, mischiefs sluce.
Mer. Hence fool out of my sight, with thy fond passion,
 Thou hast undone me.
Hum. Hold my father dear,
 For Luce thy daughters sake, that had no peer.
Mer. Thy father fool? there's some blows more, begon.
 Jasper, I hope thy Ghost be well appeased,
 To see thy will perform'd, now [will I] go
 To satisfie thy father for thy wrongs. [Exit.
Hum. What shall I do? I have been beaten twice.
 And Mistris Luce is gone? help me device:
 Since my true-love is gone, I never more,
 Whilst I do live, upon the Skie will pore;
 But in the dark will wear out my shoo-soles
 In passion, in Saint Faiths Church under Pauls. [Exit.

Wife. George call Rafe hither, if you love me call Rafe hither, I have the bravest thing for him to do George; prethee, call him quickly.

Cit. Rafe, why Rafe boy.

Enter Rafe.

Rafe. Here Sir.

Cit. Come hither Rafe, come to thy Mistris Boy.

Wife. Rafe I would have thee call all the youths together in battle-ray, with Drums, and Guns, and flags, and march to Mile-end in pompous fashion, and there exhort your Souldiers to be merry and wise, and to keep their beards from burning Rafe, and then skirmish, and let your flags fly, and cry, kill, kill, kill: my husband shall lend you his Jerkin Rafe, and there's a Scarfe; for the rest, the house shall furnish you, and we'll pay for't: do it bravely Rafe, and think before whom you perform, and what person you represent.

Rafe. I warrant you Mistress, if I do it not, for the honor of the City, and the credit of my Master, let me never hope for freedome.

Wife. 'Tis well spoken i'faith; go thy waies, thou art a spark indeed.

Cit. Ralph, double your files bravely Ralph.

Ralph. I warrant you Sir. [Exit Ralph.

Cit. Let him look narrowly to his service, I shall take him else; I was there my self a Pike-man once, in the hottest of the day, wench, had my feather shot sh[eere] away, the fringe of my pike burnt off with powder, my pate broken with a scouring-stick, and yet I thank God I am here. [Drum within.

Wife. Hark George, the Drums.

Cit. Ran, tan; tan, tan, ran, tan: Oh wench an thou hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, drum Ned, how he made it roar again, and laid on like a tyrant: and then struck softly till the Ward came up, and then thundred again, and together we go: sa, sa, sa, bounce quoth the Guns: courage my hearts, quoth the Captains: Saint George, quoth the pike-men; and withal here they lay, and there they lay; And yet for all this I am here wench.

Wife. Be thankful for it George, for indeed 'tis wonderful.

Enter Ralph and his company with Drums and Colours.

Ralph. March fair my hearts; Lieutenant beat the rear up: Ancient let your Colours flie; but have a great care of the Butchers hooks at White-Chappel, they have been the death of many a fair Ancient. Open your files, that I may take a view both of your persons and munition: Serjeant call a Muster.

Serg. A stand, William Hamerton Pewterer.

Ham. Here Captain.

Ralph. A Corslet and a Spanish Pike; 'tis well, can you shake it with a terror?

Ham. I hope so Captain.

Ralph. Charge upon me, 'tis with the weakest: put more strength William Hamerton, more strength: as you were again; proceed Serjeant.

Serj. George Green-goose, Poulterer.

Green. Here.

Ralph. Let me see your Peece, neighbor Green-goose, when was she shot in?

Green. And like you master Captain, I made a shot even now, partly to scour her, and partly for audacity.

Ralph. It should seem so certainly, for her breath is yet inflamed: besides, there is a main fault in the touch-hole, it runs and stinketh; and I tell you moreover, and believe it. Ten such touch-holes would breed the Pox in the Army. Get you a Feather, neighbor, get you a Feather, sweet Oil, and Paper, and your Peece may do well enough yet. Where's your Powder?

Green. Here.

Ralph. What in a Paper? As I am a Soldier and a Gentleman, it craves a Martial Court: you ought to die for't. Where's your horn? answer me to that.

Green. An't like you Sir, I was oblivious.

Ralph. It likes me not it should be so; 'tis a shame for you, and a scandal to all our Neighbors, being a man of worth and estimation, to leave your horn behind you: I am afraid 'twill breed example. But let me tell you no more on't; stand, till I view you all. What's become o'th' nose of your flaske?

1 Sold. Indeed law Captain, 'twas blown away with powder.

Ralph. Put on a new one at the Cities Charge. Where's the stone of this Peece?

2 Sold. The Drummer took it out to light Tobacco.

Ralph. 'Tis a fault my friend, put it in again: you want a Nose, and you a Stone; Serjeant, take a note on't, for I mean to stop it in the pay. Remove and march, soft and fair Gentlemen; soft and fair: double and files, as you were, faces about. Now you with the sodden face, keep in there: look to your Match sirrah, it will be in your fellows flask anon. So make a Crescent now, advance your Pikes, stand and give ear, Gentlemen, Countrey-men, Friends, and my fellow-Soldiers, I have brought you this day from the Shop[s] of Security, and the Counters of Content, to measure out in these furious fields, Honor by the ell, and Prowess by the pound: Let it not, O let it not, I say, be told hereafter, the noble issue of this City fainted: but bear your selves in this fair action, like men, valiant men, and free men: Fear not the face of the enemy: nor the noise of the Guns: for believe me brethren, the rude rumbling of a Brewers Carr is [farre] more terrible, of which you have a daily experience: Neither let the stink of Powder offend you, since a more valiant stink is nightly with you. To a resolved mind, his home is every where: I speak not this to take away the hope of your return; for you shall see (I do not doubt it) and that very shortly, your loving wives again, and your sweet children, whose care doth bear you company in baskets. Remember then whose cause you have in hand, and like a sort of true-born Scavengers, scour me this famous Realm of enemies. I have no more to say but this: Stand to your tacklings lads, and shew to the world, you can as well brandish a sword, as shake an Apron. Saint George, and on my hearts.

Omnes. Saint George, Saint George. [Exeunt.

Wife. 'Twas well done Ralph, I'll send thee a cold Capon a field, and a bottle of March-beer; and, it may be, come my self to see thee.

Cit. Nel, the boy hath deceiv'd me much, I did not think it had been in him: he has perform'd such a matter wench, that if I live, next year I'll have him Captain of the Gallifoist, or I'll want my Will.

Enter Old Merry-thought.

Old Mer. Yet I thank God, I break not a rinkle more than I had, not a stoop boys: Care live with Cats, I defie thee, my heart is as sound as an Oak; and though I want drink to wet my whistle, I can sing.

Come no more there boys, come no more there:
 For we shall never whilst we live, come any more there.

Enter a Boy with a Coffin.

Boy. God save you Sir.

Old Mer. It's a brave Boy: can'st thou sing?

Boy. Yes Sir, I can sing, but 'tis not so necessary at this time.

Old Mer. Sing we, and chaunt it, whilst love doth grant it.

Boy. Sir, Sir, if you knew what I have brought you, you would have little list to sing.

Old Mer. Oh the Mimon round, full long [long] I have thee sought.
 And now I have thee found, and what hast thou here brought?
Boy. A Coffin, Sir, and your dead Son Jasper in it.
Old Mer. Dead? why farewell he:
 Thou wast a bonny boy, and I did love thee.

Enter Jasper.

Jasp. Then I pray you Sir, do so still.
Old Mer. Jasper's Ghost? thou art welcome from Stygian lake so soon,
 Declare to me what wondrous things in Pluto's court are done.
Jasp. By my troth sir, I ne'r came there, 'tis too hot for me Sir.
Old Mer. A merry Ghost, a very merry Ghost.
 And where is your true love? Oh where is yours?
Jasp. Marry look you Sir. [Heaves up the Coffin.
Old Mer. Ah ha! Art thou good at that i' faith?
 With hey trixie terlerie-whiskin, the world it runs on wheels.
 When the young mans —— up goes the Maidens heels.
Mistriss Merry-thought and Michael within.

Mist. Mer. What Mr. Merri-thought, will you not let's in? what do you think shall become of us?

[Old] Mer. What voice is that that calleth at our door?

Mist. Mer. You know me well enough, I am sure I have not been such a stranger to you.

Old Mer. And some they whistled, and some they sung, Hey down, down: and some did loudly say, ever as the Lord Barnets horn blew, Away Musgrave away.

Mist. Mer. You will not have us starve here, will you Master Merry-thought?

Jasp. Nay, good Sir be perswaded, she is my Mother: if her offences have been great against you, let your own love remember she is yours, and so forgive her.

Luce. Good master Merry-thought, let me intreat you, I will not be denied.

Mist. Mer. Why Master Merry-thought, will you be a vext thing still?

Old Mer. Woman I take you to my love again, but you shall sing before you enter: therefore dispatch your song, and so come in.

Mist. Mer. Well, you must have your Will when all's done, Mich. what song canst thou sing Boy?

Mich. I can sing none forsooth, but a Ladies Daughter of Paris properly.

Mich. Mer. Song. It was a Ladies Daughter, &c.
Old Mer. Come, you're welcome home again.
 If such danger be in playing, and jest must to earnest turn,
 You shall go no more a Maying.
Merch. within. Are you within Sir, Master Merry-thought?

Jasp. It is my Masters voice, good Sir, go hold him [in] talk whilst we convey ourselves into some inward room.

Old Mer. What are you? are you merry? you must be very merry if you enter.

Mer. I am Sir.
Old Mer. Sing then.
Mer. Nay, good Sir open to me.
Old Mer. Sing, I say, or by the merry heart, you come not in.
Mer. Well Sir, I'll sing.
Fortune my foe, &c.

Old Mer. You are welcome Sir, you are welcome: you see your entertainment, pray you be merry.

Mer. Oh Master Merry-thought, I am come to aske you
 Forgiveness for the wrongs I offered you,
 And your most virtuous Son, they're infinite,
 Yet my contrition shall be more than they.
 I do confess my hardness broke his heart.
 For which just heaven hath given me punishment
 More than my age can carry, his wandring spirit
 Not yet at rest, pursues me every where,
 Crying, I'll haunt thee for thy cruelty.
 My Daughter she is gone, I know not how,
 Taken invisible, and whether living,
 Or in grave, 'tis yet uncertain to me.
 Oh Master Merry-thought, these are the Weights,
 Will sink me to my grave, forgive me Sir.
Old Mer. Why Sir, I do forgive you, and be merry.
 And if the wag in's life time, plaid the knave,
 Can you forgive him too?
Mer. With all my heart Sir.
Old Mer. Speak it again, and heartily.
Mer. I do Sir.
 Now by my soul I do.
Old Mer. With that came out his Paramour,
 She was as white as the Lilly Flower,
 Hey troul, trolie lolie.

Enter Luce and Jasper.

With that came out her own dear Knight,
 He was as true as ever did fight, &c.

Sir, if you will forgive 'em, clap their hands together, there's no more to be said i'th' matter.

Mer. I do, I do.

Cit. I do not like this, peace boys, hear me one of you, every bodies part is come to an end but Ralph's, and he's left out.

Boy. 'Tis long of your self Sir, we have nothing to do with his part.

Cit. Ralph. Come away, make on him as you have done of the rest, boys come.

Wife. Now good Husband, let him come out and die.

Cit. He shall Nell, Ralph, come away quickly and die boy.

Boy. 'Twill be very unfit he should die sir, upon no occasion, and in a Comedy too.

Cit. Take you no care for that Sir boy, is not his part at an end, think you, when he's dead? come away Ralph.

Enter Ralph, with a forked arrow through his head.

Ralph. When I was mortal, this my costive corps
 Did lap up Figs and Raisons in the Strand,
 Where sitting I espi'd a lovely Dame,
 Whose Master wrought with Lingell and with All,
 And underground he vampied many a Boot,
 Straight did her love prick forth me, tender sprig:
 To follow feats of Arms in warlike wise,
 Through Waltham Desart; where I did perform
 Many atchievements, and did lay on ground
 Huge Barbaroso, that insulting Giant,
 And all his Captives soon set at liberty.
 Then honor prickt me from my native soil,
 Into Moldavia, where I gain'd the love
 Of Pompiana his beloved Daughter:
 But yet prov'd constant to the black thumm'd Maid
 Susan, and scorn'd Pompianaes love:
 Yet liberal I was, and gave her pins,
 And money for her Fathers Officers,
 I then returned home, and thrust my self
 In action, and by all [men] chosen was
 [Lord of the] May, where I did flourish it,
 With Scarfs and Rings, and Poesie in my hand:
 Af[t]er this action I preferred was,
 And chosen City-Captain at Mile-end,
 With Hat and Feather, and with leading staff,
 And train'd my men, and brought them all off clear
 Save one man that beraid him with the noise.
 But all these things I Ralph did undertake,
 Only for my beloved Susan's sake.
 Then coming home, and sitting in my shop
 With Apron blew, Death came unto my stall
 To cheapen Aquavitæ; but e'r I
 Could take the bottle down, and fill a taste,
 [Death] caught a pound of Pepper in his hand,
 And sprinkled all my Face and Body o'r,
 And in an instant vanished away.
Cit. 'Tis a pretty fiction i'faith.
Ralph. Then took I up my Bow and Shaft in hand,
 And walkt in[to] Moor-fields, to cool my self,
 But there grim cruel death met me again,
 And shot this forked Arrow through my head,
 And now I faint, therefore be warn'd by me,
 My fellows every one, of forked heads.
 Farewel all you good boys in merry London,
 Ne'r shall we more upon Shrove-Tuesday meet,
 And pluck down houses of iniquity.
 My pain increaseth: I shall never more
 Hold open, whilst another pumps both legs,
 Nor daub a Sattin Gown with rotten Eggs:
 Set up a stake, Oh never more I shall,
 I die, flie, flie my soul to Grocers Hall. oh, oh, oh, &c.

Wife. Well said Ralph, do your obeysance to the Gentlemen, and go your ways well said Ralph. [Exit Ralph.

Old Mer. Methinks all we, thus kindly and unexpectedly reconciled, should not part without a Song.

Merch. A good motion.

Old Mer. Strike up then.

SONG.

Better Musick ne'r was known,
 Than a Quire of hearts in one.
 Let each other that hath been,
 Troubled with the gall or spleen:
 Learn of us to keep his brow,
 Smooth and plain as ours are now.
 Sing though before the hour of dying
 He shall rise, and then be crying,
 Heyho, 'Tis nought but mirth,
 That keeps the bodie from the earth.

[Exeunt omnes.

Epilogus.

Cit. Come Nell, shall we go, the Play's done?

Wife. Nay, by my faith George, I have more manners than so, I'll speak to these Gentlemen first: I thank you all Gentlemen, for your patience and countenance to Ralph, a poor fatherless child, and if I may see you at my house, it should go hard, but I would have a pottle of Wine, and a Pipe of Tobacco for you; for truly I hope you [do] like the youth, but I would be glad to know the truth: I refer it to your own discretions, whether you will applaud him or no, for I will wink, and whilst you shall do what you will, I thank you with all my heart, God give you good night, come George.

Loves Pilgr[i]mage,

a Comedy.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

WOMEN.

The Scene Barcellona and the Road.

Actus Primus, Scæna Prima.

Enter Incubo the Bailiff, Diego the Host.

Inc. Signior Don Diego, and mine Host, save thee.
Die. I thank you Mr. Baily.
Inc. O the block!
Die. Why, how should I have answer'd?
Inc. Not with that
 Negligent rudeness: But I kiss your hands
 Signior Don Incubo de Hambre, and then
 My Titles: Master Baily of Castle-blanco:
 Thou ne'r wilt have the elegancy of an Host;
 I sorrow for thee, as my friend and Gossip:
 No smoak, nor steam out-breathing from the kitchen?
 There's little life i'th Hearth then.
Die. I, there, there,
 That is his friendship, harkening for the spit,
 And sorrow that he cannot smell the pot boil.
Inc. Strange
 An Inn should be so curst, and not the sign
 Blasted, nor withered; very strange, three days now,
 And not an Egg eat in it, nor an Onion.
Die. I think they ha' strew'd the high-ways with caltraps, I,
 No horse dares pass 'em; I did never know
 A week of so sad doings, since I first
 Stood to my Sign-post.
Inc. Gossip, I have found
 The root of all: kneel, [pray,] it is thy self
 Art cause thereof: each person is the Founder
 Of his own fortune, good or bad; but mend it,
 Call for thy Cloak, and Rapier.
Die. How?
Inc. Do, call,
 And put 'em on in haste: Alter thy fortune,
 By appearing worthy of her: Dost thou think
 Her good face e'r will know a man in cuerpo?
 In single body, thus? in Hose, and Doublet
 The horse-boys garb? base blank, and halfe blank cuerpo?
 Did I, or Mr Dean of Sivil our neighbor
 E'r reach our dignities in cuerpo, think'st thou,
 In squirting Hose and Doublet? Signior, no,
 There went more to't: there were Cloaks, Gowns, Cassocks,
 And other paramentos; Call, I say,
 His Cloak, and Rapier here.

Enter Hostess.

Host. What means your Worship?
Inc. Bring forth thy Husbands Sword: so hang it on,
 And now his cloak, here cast it up; I mean
 Gossip, to change your luck, and bring you guests.
Host. Why? is there charm in this?
Inc. Expect; now walk,
 But not the pace of one that runs on errands;
 For, want of gravity in an Host, is odious:
 You may remember Gossip, if you please,
 (Your Wife being then th' Infanta of the Gipsies,
 And your self governing a great mans Mules then)
 Me a poor Squire at Madrid attending
 A Master of Ceremonies; But a man, believe it,
 That knew his place to the gold weight, and such
 Have I heard him [oft] say, ought every Host
 Within the Catholique Kings Dominions
 Be in his own house.
Die. How?
Inc. A Master of Ceremonies;
 At least Vice-Master, and to do nought in cuerpo,
 That was his Maxim, I will tell thee of him:
 He would not speak with an Ambassadors Cook,
 See a cold bake-meat from a forreign part
 In cuerpo: had a dog but staid without,
 Or beast of quality, as an English Cow,
 But to present it self, he would put on
 His Savoy chain about his neck, the ruff
 And cuffs of Holland, then the Naples Hat
 With the Rome Hat-band, and the Florentin[e] Agat,
 The Millan Sword, the Cloak of Genoa, set
 With Flemish buttons; all his given pieces
 To entertain 'em in, and complement [Knock within.
 With a tame Conie, as with the Prince that sent it.
Die. List. Who is there?
Inc. A guest and 't be thy will.
Die. Look Spowse, cry luck, and we be encounter'd: ha?
Host. Luck then, and good, for 'tis a fine brave guest,
 With a brave horse.
Inc. Why now, believe of cuerpo.

Enter Theodosia.

As you shall see occasion: go, and meet him.
Theo. Look to my horse, I pray you, well.
Die. He shall, Sir.
Inc. Oh how beneath his rank and call was that now?
 Your horse shall be entreated as becomes
 A horse of fashion, and his inches.
Theo. Oh.
Inc. Look to the Cavalier: what ails he? stay
 If it concern his horse, let it not trouble him,
 He shall have all respect the place can yield him
 Either of barley, or fresh straw.
Die. Good Sir
 Look up.
Inc. He sinks, somewhat to cast upon him,
 He'll go away in cuerpo else.
Die. What, Wife!
 Oh your hot waters quickly, and some cold
 To cast in his sweet face.
Host. Alas, fair flower?
Die. Does any body entertain his Horse?
Host. Yes, Lazaro has him.

Enter Hostess with a glass of water.

Inc. Go you see him in person.
Host. Sir, taste a little of this, of mine own water,
 I did distill't my self; swe[e]t Lilly look upon me,
 You are but newly blown, my pretty Tulip.
 Faint not upon your stalk, 'tis firm and fresh
 Stand up so bolt upright, you are yet in growing.
The. Pray you let me have a chamber.
Host. That you shall, Sir.
The. And where I may be private, I intreat you.
Host. For that in troth Sir, we ha no choice: our house
 Is but a vent of need, that now and then
 Receives a guest, between the greater Towns
 As they come late; only one room.
Inc. She means, Sir, it is none
 Of those wild, scatter'd heaps, call'd Inns, where scarce
 The Host is heard, though he wind his horn t' his people,
 Here is a competent pile, wherein the man,
 Wife, Servants, all do live within the whistle.
Host. Only one room.
Inc. A pretty modest quadrangle
 She will describe to you.
Host. Wherein stands two Beds Sir.

Enter Diego.

We have, and where, if any guest do come,
 He must of force be lodg'd, that is the truth, Sir.
Theo. But if I pay you for both your beds, methinks
 That should alike content you.
Host. That it shall, Sir.
 If I be paid, I am paid.
Theo. Why, there's a Ducket
 Will that make your content?
Host. Oh the sweet face on you:
 A Ducket? yes, and there were three beds Sir,
 And twice so many rooms, which is one more,
 You should be private in 'em all, in all Sir,
 No one should have a piece of a bed with you
 Not master Dean of Sivil himself, I swear.
 Though he came naked hither, as once he did
 When h' had like t'have been tane a bed with the Moor
 And guelt by her Master: you shall be as private,
 As if you lay in's own great house that's haunted,
 Where no body comes, they say.
Theo. I thank you Hostess.
 Pray you, will you shew me in.
Host. Yes marry will I Sir,
 And pray that not a flea, or a chink vex you.

[Exit Host. and Theo.