Histrio-mastix· Or, The player vvhipt

HISTRIO-MASTIX.

Actus primi Scaena prima.

Enter Peace, Grammer, Logick, Rhetorick, Arithma∣tick, Geometrie, Musick, and Astronomie.

Peace.

VNmaske thy face thou minister of Time Looke forth bright mirror, let thy golded hand, Ride (with distinctlesse motion) on the eyes Of this fayre Chorus, till the Raigne of Peace, Hath propagated Plenty, and increase. Now sit wee high (tryumphant in our sway,) Encircled with the seauen-fold flower of Art, To tread on Barbarisme with siluer feete; These, these are adiuncts fit to waite on Peace, Who beeing courted by most searching spirits, Haue alwayes borne themselues in God-like state, With lofty foreheads, higher then the starres. Draw neere fayre Daughters of eternity, Your Fostresse Peace, is (like the aged Nursse) Growne proud to see her Children florish thus.

Gram.

We know not how to turne these bounties backe, But with continuance of obsequious loue, Whil'st Peace tryumphes, it lyes in Grammers might, To make the rudest braine both speake and write.

Log.

Logick shall furnish them with Argument, And make them apt and able to dispute; The theame shall be of Peace, and her sweet name, And euery Sillogism' shall proue her fame.

Rhe.

Rhetorick will put her richest habite on, Of gestures, Voice, and exornation, Her Tropes and Scheames, shall dignifie her sence. And Honours Peace, with clearest eloquence.

Ar.

Her graces in my numbers shall be seene, So full that nothing can be added more, Nor ought subtracted: true Arithmetick Will multiply and make them infinit.

Musick.

Musick shall feast the bounteous eares of Peace, Whil'st she inspires her numme conceipt with life, Varying each concord, moode and faculty, In flowing straynes, and rapting Symphonie,

Astr.

The motions of the Planets and their Spheares, The Starres, their influence, quantities, consents, All that Astronomie can teach or know, She doth professe from sacred Peace to flow.

Geo.

And I will make her powers demonstratiue, In all my angles, circles, cubes, or squares, The very state of Peace shall seeme to shine, In euery figure or dimensiue lyne.

Peace

Inough fayre Virgins Time shall prooue this true, Whil'st you do honor Peace shee'le cheerish you.

Enter Mauortius, Philarchus, Larius, Hiletus, Chrisoganus▪

Omnes,

Honor and safety, still attend fayre Peace

Peace.

Thankes noble Lords and worthy Gentlemen: But wherefore looke you so ask aunce on these, As if they were not worthy your salutes?

Omnes.

Because wee knew them not.

Chri,

The more your blame.

Peace.

O pittied state! most weake, where nobles want The loue and knowledge of the liberall Arts; Are you the men (for birth and place) admir'd? By whose great motions, lesser wheeles turne round? And shall your mindes affect so dull a course?

As if your sence where most irrationall? What is a man superiour to a beast But for his mind? nor that ennobles him, While hee deiects his reason; making it The slaue vnto his brutish appetite. Make then your mindes illustrious in your deedes And each choose (in this troupe) a spowsall mate,

Mauo.

Wee doe obay: And I choose Musick first.

Phil.

I Geometry.

Hile.

I Rhetorick.

Lar.

And I Astronomie.

Chri.

And I to be a seruant vnto all.

Peace.

But now beware yee iniure not the fame Of these bright Virgins with adulterate loue, Meane time their seruant (heere) Chrisoganus Shall teach of euery Art the misterie.

Exeunt Peace and Arts.

Mauo.

But if (by Art) as all our Artist•• say, There is no reall truth to be attain'd, Why should wee labour in their loues bestow? The wisest said: I know I nothing know,

Chri.

The wisest was a foole for saying soe: That Oracle pronounc'd wise Socrates: For doe I know I see you, or the light? Or do you know you heere mee, or I touch you?

Phil.

All this wee needes must know assuredly.

Chri.

If this bee certaine then which comes from sence, The knowledg proper to the soule is truer; For that pure knowledg by the which wee know A thing to bee, with true cause how it is, Is more exact then that which knowes it is, And reacheth not to knowledge of the cause. Besides; that knowledge (that considers things Abiunct from senciue matter) is exacter Then that which ioynes it selfe with elements; Arithmetick euer considers numbers

Abstract from senciue matter: Musick still Considers it with sence, as mixt with sound: Therefore Arithmeticque is more exact, And more exact then is Geometrie: Since vnitas is still simplicior puncto, And number simpler then is magnitude. For Vnitas may still be sine puncto, But Punctus neuer without Vnitie, Nor; Magnitudo sine Numero. Dum (enim) punctus ponitur, ponitur (ex necessitate) vnitas.

Mauo.

But all this prooues not wee may know a truth.

Chri.

If wee haue this wee call Scientia, We must haue truth of meere necessity, For Acriueia doth not signifie, Onely a certainty in that wee know, But certainty with all perfection.

Phil.

Although I am not satisfied in this, It doth me good to heare him thus discourse.

Mauor.

My Lords, let's betake vs to our studies.

Phil.

In nothing am I better pleas'd, let's goe.

Exeunt.

Enter Incle, Belch, Gutt, Post-hast.

The Players Song.

The nut-brwne ale, the nut-browne ale, Puts downe all drinke when it is stale, The toast, the Nut-meg, and the ginger, Will make a sighing man a singer. Ale giues a buffet in the head, But ginger vnder-proppes the brayne: When ale would strike a strong man dead, Then nut-megge tempers it againe, The nut-browne ale, the nut-browne ale, Puts downe all drinke when it is stale.

Inc.

This Peace breeds such Plenty, trades serue no tu••nes

Bel.

The more sooles wee to follow them.

Post.

Lett's make vp a company of Players, For we can all sing and say, And so (with practise) soone may learne to play.

Incle.

True, could our action answer your extempore.

Post.

I'le teach yee to play true Politicians.

Incle.

Why those are th'falsest subtle fellowes liues.

Bel.

I pray sir, what titles haue trauailing Players?

Post.

Why proper-fellowes, they play Lords and Kings,

Idcle.

What parts would best become vs (sir) I pray?

Bel.

Faith to play Roagues, till wee bee bound for running away.

Post.

Content; Scriuener, hoe, You must tye a knott of Knaues togither.

Enter a Scriuener.

Scri.

Your appellations?

Post.

Your names he meanes; the man's learn'd.

Belch

I Belch the Beard-maker.

Gut.

I Gutt the Fiddle-string-maker.

Incle.

I Incle the Pedler.

Post.

I Maister Posthast the Poet.

Scri.

Your nomenclature?

Post.

O stately Scriuener, thats wher dwell yee?

Omnes.

Townesmen, townesmen all.

Scri.

The Obligatories Condition?

Post.

Politician Players.

Exit. Scriuener.

Bel.

But whose men are wee all this while:

Post.

Whose but the merry Knight's, sir Oliuer Owlets, There was neuer a better man to Players.

Gut.

If our parrell be not poynt-deuice the fatt's i'th fire.

Post.

What a greazie phrase: This playing will furnish yee.

Bel.

What hoe Maister Bougle, a word.

Post.

Heeres halfe a dozen good fellowes.

Clout.

Soft sir, wee are but foure or fiue.

Post.

The liker to thriue.

Enter Bougle.

Boug.

What saucy knaues are these?

Post.

A speakes to you players; I am the poett.

Bel.

As concerning the King and the Clowne.

Boug.

Will you haue rich stuffe indeed?

Post.

Tis not to be dealt on without store of drinke.

Boug.

Store of money you would say.

Post.

Nay tis well said, for drink must clap vp the bargaine. Lets away.

Exeunt.

Enter Fourcher, Voucher, Velure, Lyon-rash and Chrisoganus in his study.

These Merchants and Lawyers enter two and two at seuerall doores.

Lyon.

Maister Fourcher, how fares your body sir? come you from your booke?

Four.

Troth Master Lyon-rash, this Peace giues Lawyers leaue to play.

Velure.

Maister Vourcher? you are very well incountred sir?

Voucher

Maister Velure, I value your frienship at as high a price, as any mans.

Lion.

Gentlemen, how shall wee spend this after-noone?

Four.

Fayth lets goe see a Play.

Vel.

See a Play, a proper pastime indeed: to heere a deale of prating to so little purpose.

Vour.

Why this going to a play is now all in the fashion.

Lyon.

Why then lets goe where wee may heare sweet mu∣sick and delicate songs, for the Harmonie of musick is so Hea∣uenlike that I loue it with my life.

Four.

Nay faith this after-noone weele spend in hearinge the Mathematickes read.

Vel.

Why then lets to the Academy to heare Crisoganus.

Omnes.

content.

So all goe to Chrisoganus study, where they find him reading.

Four.

Maister Chrisoganus: by your leaue sir.

Chri.

Gentlemen you are welcome.

Fur.

I pray sir what were the best course for a scholler?

Chri.

Why no man can attaine to any truth, But he must seeke it Mathematicé.

Vour.

Which are the Mathematicque sciences?

Chri.

Arithmetick and Geometry are chiefe.

Vel.

What difference is there twixt philosophy And knowledge which is Mathematicall?

Chri.

This sir: the naturall Philosopher Considers, things as meerely sensible; The Mathematician; vt mente abiunctas a materia sensibili, But this requireth time to satisfy; For 'tis an Axiome with all men of Art, Mathematicum abstrahentem non comittere mendacium: And (for the beauty of it,) what can be Vrg'd (more extractiue) then the face of heauen? The misteries that Art hath found therein: It is distinguisht into Regions, Those Regions fil'd with sundry sorts of starres: They (likewise) christned with peculiar names, To see a dayly vse wrought out of them, With demonstrations so infallible, The pleasure cannot bee, but rauishing.

Fur.

The very thought thereof enflameth mee.

Chri.

Why you shall meet with proiects so remou'd From vulgar apprehension, (as for instance,) The Sunne heere riseth in the East with vs, But not of his owne proper motion, As beeing turn'd by primum mobile, (The heauen aboue Coelum stellatum) Whereas his true asscent is in the West, And so hee consummates his circled course In the Ecliptick line, which partes the Zodiack, Being borne from Tropick to Tropick: this time Wee call a yeere; whose Hierocliphick was

(Amongst the Egyptians figured in a Snake Wreath'd circular, the tayle within his mouth: As (happily) the ••atines (since) did call, A Ring, (of the word Annus) Annulus,

Vour.

I apprehend not in my ablest powers, That once in euery foure and twenty houres, The Sunne should rise and sette; yet bee a yeare In finishing his owne dessigned course.

Chri

Why that I will demonstrate to you, thus; Turne a huge wheele: contrary to the sway Place mee a flye vppon't: the flye (before It can arriue the poynt from whence it went) Shall sundry times be circumuolu'd about; Euen so the Sunne and the affinities: For if you wonder how at one selfe houre, Two of discordant natures may be borne, As one a King, another some base Swaine, One valiant, and the other timerous, Let but two droppes of incke or water fall Directly on so swift a turning wheele, And you shall find them both cast farre in sunder. Euen so the heauenly Orbs, whirling so fast And so impetuously (proiect mens fates) Most full of change and contrariety.

Four.

Cood faith these knowledges are very rare, And full of admiration; are they not?

Chri.

The Mathematicques are the strength of truth, A Magazine of all perfection.

Vour.

Shall wee designe some place for exercise, And euery morning haue a Lecture read.

Four.

Content, (if soe Chrisoganus stand pleaz'd) His exhibition shall be competent: wee'le all be Patrons.

Chri.

To make you Artists, answeres my desire, Rather then hope or mercenary hire.

Exeunt

Enter haruest-folkes with a bowle: after them, Peace leading in Plenty. Plutus with ingottes of gold-Ceres with sheaues: Bacchus with grapes.

The haruest-folkes Song.

Holyday, O blessed morne, This day Plenty hath beene borne, Plenty is the child of Peace; To her birth the Gods do prease, Full crown'd Mazors Bacchus brings, With liquor which from grapes hee wringes: Holliday, O blessed morne; This day Plenty hath bin borne, Holliday let's loudly cry, For ioy of her natiuity. Ceres with a bounteous hand, Doth at Plenties elbo stand: Binding mixed Coronets, Of wheat which on her head she sets. Holliday, O blessed morne, This day Plenty hath bin borne, Holliday lets loudly cry, For ioy of her natiuity.

Peace.

Reach me the bowle with rich Autumnian Iuice, That I may drinke a health to your new Queene. Times winged howers (that poynted out my raygne,) Are fled; I am no more your Soueraigne. Wound Ayre with shrill tun'd Canzonets, I robbe my selfe to make my Daughter rich, Peace doth resigne her pure imperiall Crowne, (Wrought by the Muses) in whose Circle grow All flowers that are to Phoebus consecrate.

Exeunt.

Finis Actus primi.

Actus secundi, scaena: I.

Enter Plenty in Maiesty, vpon a Throne, heapes of gold, Plutus, Ceres; and Bachus doing homage.

Plen.

What heauenly soueraignty supports my state That Plenty raignes (as Princesse) after Peace? Then if this powerfull arme can turne the hower, It is my will, (and that shall stand for law) That all thinges on the earth bee plentifull. I crush out bounty from the amber grape, And fill your barnes with swelling sheaues of Corne, How can this, but engender blessed thought, Especially when Gods our good haue sought?

Ceres.

For thee, thy seruants captiuate the Earth, Her fruitfulnes fals downe at Plentyes feete.

Bach.

Bachus will cheere her melancholly sence, With droppes of Nectar from this Crimson Iuyce.

Plut.

Her body shall sustaine ten thousand wounds, And swarthy India be transform'd to Sea, Disgorging golden choller to the waues, Before sweet Plenty find the least defect.

Plen.

For this aboundance powr'd at Plenties feet, You shall be Tetrarch's of this petty world.

Enter Mauortius, Philarchus, Chrisoganus.

Mauo.

What dullards thus, would dote in rusty Arte? Plod ding vpon a booke to dull the sence, And see the world become a treasure-house, Where Angells swarme like Bees in Plenties streets, And euery Peasant surfets on their sweetes?

Phil.

Giue mee a season that will sturre the blood

I like not Nigardice to hungar-starue, Tis good when pooremen frolicke in the hall, The whil'st our fathers in the Chambers feast, And none repines at any stranger-guest.

Chri.

Who was the authour of this store, but Peace? That common-welth is neuer well at ease, Where Parchment skinnes, whose vse should beare records, Must head their brawling Drummes and keepe a coyle, As if they threatned Plenty with a spoyle.

Plenty.

Your houses must bee open to the poore, Your dusty Tables fill'd with store of meate, Let goodly yeomen at your elboes stand, Swords by their sides and trenchers in their hand: Long-skirted coates, wide-sleeues with cloth' inough: Thus Lords, you shall my gouernment enlarge, Reuerence your Queene, by practizing her charge.

Omnes

Ours be the charge and thine the Empire.

Exit Plenty.

The bring her to the doore and leaue her.

Mauo.

Gallants let vs inuent some pleasing sportes, To fit the Plentuous humor of the Time,

Chri.

What better recreations can you find, Then sacred knowledge in diuinest thinges.

Phil.

Your bookes are Adamants and you the Iron That cleaues to them till you confound your selfe

Mauor.

Poore Scholler spend thy spirits so and dye.

Phil.

Let them doe soe that list, so will not!.

Mauo.

I cannot feed my appetite with Ayre, I must pursue my pleasures royally, That spung'd in sweat, I may returne from sport, Mount mee on horse-back, keepe the Hounds and Haukes, And leaue this Idle contemplation, To rugged Stoicall Morosophists.

Chri.

O! did you but your owne true glories know, Your iudgements would not then decline so low.

Phil.

What Maister Pedant, pray forbeare, forbeare.

Chri.

Tis you my Lord that must forbeare to erre.

Phil.

'Tis still safe erring with the multitude:

Chri.

A wretched morall; more then barbarous rude.

Mauo.

How you translating-scholler? you can make A stabbing Satir, or an Epigram, And thinke you carry iust Ramnusia's whippe To lash the patient; goe, get you clothes, Our free-borne blood such apprehension lothes.

Chr.

Proud Lord, poore Art shall weare a glorious crowne, When her despisers die to all renowne.

Exeunt.

Enter Contrimen, to them, Clarke of the Market: hee wrings a bell, and drawes a curtaine: where∣vnder is a market set about a Crosse.

Con.

Wher's this drunkard Clarke to ring the bell?

Clar.

Heigho, bottle Ale has buttond my cappe.

Corne-b.

Whats a quarter of Corne?

Seller.

Two and six-pence.

Corne-b.

Ty't vp tis mine.

Enter a Marchants wife, with a Prentice, carrying a hand-basket

Wife.

ha'y' any Potatoes?

Seller.

Th'aboundance will not quite-cost the bringing.

Wife.

What's your Cock-sparrowes a dozen?

Sell.

A penny Mistresse.

Wife.

Ther's for a dozen; hold.

Enter Gulch, Belch, Clowt, and Gut. One of them steppes on the Crosse, and c yes a Play.

Gulch.

All they that can sing and say, Come to the Towne-house and see a Play, At three a clocke it shall beginne,

The finest play that e're was seene. Yet there is one thing more in my minde, Take heed you leaue not your purses behinde.

Enter a Ballet singer, and singes a Ballet.

Bal.

What's your playes name? Maisters whose men are ye? how the signe of the Owle ith luy bush? Ser Oliuer Owlets.

Gul.

Tis a signe yee are not blind Sir.

Belsh.

The best that euer trode on stage. The Lasciuious Knight, and Lady Nature.

Post.

Haue you cry'd the Play, maisters?

Omnes.

I, I, I, no doubt we shall haue good dooings, but How proceed you in the new plot of the prodigall childe?

Post.

O sirs, my wit's grown no lesse plentiful then the time. Ther's two sheets done in follio, will cost two shillings in time.

Gut.

Shall we heere a flurt before the audience come.

Post.

I that you shall, I sweare by the Sunne-sit down sirs,

Hee reades the Prologue, they sit to heare it.

When Aucthours quill, in quiuering hand, His tyred arme did take: His wearied Muse, bad him deuise, Some fine play for to make. And now my Maisters in this brauadoe, I can read no more without Canadoe.

Omnes.

What hoe? some Canadoe quickly,

Enter Vintner with a quart of Wine.

Post.

Enter the Prodigall Child; fill the pot I would say, Huffa, huffa, who callis for mee? I play the Prodigall child in iollytie.

Clout

O detestable good.

Post.

Enter to him Dame Vertue: My Sonne thou art a lost childe, (This is a passion, note you the passion?)

And hath many poore men of their goods beguild: O prodigall childe, and childe prodigall. Read the rest sirs, I cannot read for teares, Fill mee the pot I prethe fellow Gulch.

Gutt.

Faith we can read nothing but riddles.

Post.

My maisters, what tire weares your lady on her head?

Bell.

Foure Squirrels tailes ti'de in a true loues knot.

Post.

O amiable good, 'tis excellent.

Clou.

But how shall we doe for a Prologue for lords?

Post.

I'le doo't extempore.

Bel.

O might we heere a spurt if need require.

Post.

Why Lords we are heere to shew you what we are, Lords wee are heere although our cloths be bare, In steed of flowers, in season, yee shall gather Rime and Reason? I neuer pleas'd my selfe better, it comes off with such suauity.

Gul.

Well fellowes, I neuer heard happier stuffe, Heer's no new luxurie or blandishment, But plenty of old Englands mothers words.

Clout.

I st not pitty this fellow's not imploid in matters of State, But wher's the Epilogue must beg the plaudite?

Post.

Why man? The glasse is run our play is done, Hence Time doth call, wee thanke you all.

Gulsh.

I but how if they doe not clap their hands.

Post.

No matter so they thump vs not, Come, come, we poets haue the kindest wretches to our Ingles

Belsh.

Why whats an Ingle man?

Post.

One whose hands are hard as battle-dores with clap∣ping at baldnesse.

Clout.

Then we shal haue rare Ingling at the prodigal child.

Gul.

I a••t be playd vpon a good night—lets giue it out for Friday.

Post.

Content.

Enter Steward.

Stew.

My maisters; my Lord Mauortius is dispos'd to heere what you can doe.

Belsh.

What fellowes, shall we refuse the Towne-play?

Post.

Why his reward is worth the Maior & all the towne.

Omnes.

Weele make him mery ifaith, weele be there.

Exeūt

Enter Velure and Lyon-rash, with a Water-spaniell, and a Dusk.

Vel.

Come sirs, how shall we recreate our selues, This plentious time forbids aboad at home.

Lyon.

Let's Duck it with our Dogs to make vs sport, And crosse the water to eate some Creame; What hoe? Sculler.

Vel.

You doe forget; Plenty affoords vs Oares.

Enter Furcher, and Vourchier, with bowes and arrowes.

Four.

What shall we shoote for a greene Goose sir?

Vour.

Ther's a wise match.

Fur.

Faith we may take our bowes and shafts and sleepe, This dreaming long vacation giues vs leaue.

Vel.

Gentlemen, well met, what? Pancrace Knights?

Vour.

The bounty of the time will haue it so.

Four.

You are prepard for sport, as well as we.

Vour.

One of the goodliest Spaniels I haue seene.

Lyon.

And heere's the very quintessence of Duckes.

Fur.

For diuing meane yee?

Lyon.

I, and thriuing too. For I haue wonne three wagers this last weeke; What? will you goe with vs and see our sport?

Vour.

No faith sir, Ile go ride and breath my horse.

Vel.

Why whether ride you? we will all goe with you.

Vour.

Lets meet some ten miles hence to hawke & hunt.

Lyon.

Content: this plenty yeelds vs choise of sports. Our trades and we are now no fit consorts.

Exeunt.

Enter Vsher of the Hall; and Clarck of the Kitchin.

Vsher.

Maister Clarke of the Kitchin; faith what's your dayly expence.

Clar.

Two beeues, a score of Muttons; Hogsheads of Wine, and Beere, a doozen a day.

Vsh.

Neuer was Age more plentifull.

Clar.

Vsher, it is my Lords pleasure, all comer, bee boun∣teously entertaind.

Vsher.

I but ist my Ladies pleasure.

Cla.

What else? She scornes to weare cloth-breeches man.

Enter Porter.

Porter.

A Morrice-daunce of neighbours craue admittance.

Clar.

Porter, let them in man.

Enter Morrice-dancers.

Butler, make them drinke their skinnes full.

Omnes mor. dan.

God blesse the sounder.

Clar.

Porter, are these Players come?

Port.

Halfe an houre a goe sir.

Clar.

Bid them come in and sing the meat's going vp.

Exit

Vsh.

Gentlemen, and yeomen, attend vpon the Sewer.

Enter Players, with them Post-hast the Poet.

Vsh.

Sir Oliuer Owlets men welcome, by Gods will, It is my Lords pleasure it should be so.

Post.

Sir, we haue carowst like Kings, For heere is plenty of all things.

Vsh.

Looke about you Maisters; be vncouer'd.

Enter Sewer with seruice, in side liuery coates.

The Players Song.

BRaue ladds come forth and chant it, and chant it, for now 'tis supper time. See how the dishes flaunt it, and flaunt it, with meate to make vp rime. Pray for his honor truly, and truly, in all hee vndertakes; He seru's the poore most duly, and duely, as all the country speakes.

Post.

God blesse my Lord Mauortius, & his merry men all, To make his honour merry, we sing in the hall.

Vsh.

My Maisters, for that we are not onely (for causes) Come new to the house; but also (for causes) I matuaile where you will lodge.

Post.

We hope (for causes) in the house, though drinke be in our heads. Because to Plenty we carowse, for beefe and beere, and beds.

Vsh.

Sed like honest men: what playes haue you?

Belch.

Here's a Gentleman scholler writes for vs: I pray Maister Post-hast, declare for our credits.

Post.

For mine owne part, though this summer season I am desperate of a horse.

Vsh

'Tis well; but what playes haue you?

Post.

A Gentleman's a Gentleman, that hath a cleane shirt on, with some learning, and so haue I.

Vsh.

One of you answer the names of your playes,

Post.

Mother Gurtons neadle; (a Tragedy.) The Diuell and Diues; (a Comedie.) Arusset coate, and a Knaues cap; (an Infernall) A prowd heart and a beggars purse; (a pastorall.) The Widdowes apron-strings; (a nocturnall.)

Vsh.

I premise yee, pritty names, I pray what yee want in any thing, To take it out in drinke. And so goe make yee ready maisters.

Exeunt players.

Enter Mauortius, Philarchus, with Landulpho (an Italian Lord) and other Nobles and Gentles to see the Play.

Mauo.

My Lords, your entertainment i•• but base, Courser your cates, but welcome with the best. Fellowes some Cushions; place fa re Ladies heere, Signiour Landulpho; pray be merry sir.

Lady.

I'st th'Italian guise to be so sad? When Loue and Fancie should be banquetting?

Land

Madam, your kindnesse hath full power to command.

Lady.

These admirable wits of Italy, That court with lookes, and speake in sillables,

Are curious seperuisours ouer strangers, And when wee couet so to frame our selues, (Like ouer-nice portraying picturers,) We spoyle the counterfeit in colouring; England is playne and loues her mothers guyse, Enricht with cunning, as her parents rise.

Land.

Lady, these eyes did euer hate to scorne, This toung's vnur'd to carpe or contrary, The bozome where this heart hath residence, I wish may seeme the seat of curtesie.

Vsher.

Rowme my Maisters take your places, Hold vp your torches for dropping there.

Mauo.

Vsher are the Players ready? bid them beginne.

Enter Players and Sing.

Some vp and some downe, ther's Players in the towne, You wot well who they bee: The summe doth arise, to three companies, One, two, three, foure, make wee. Besides we that trauell, with pumps full of grauell, Made all of such running leather: That once in a weeke, new maisters wee seeke, And neuer can hold together.

Enter Prologue.

Prol.

Phillida was a faire maid; I know one fairer then she, Troylus was a true louer; I know one truer then he: And Cressida that dainty dame, whose beauty faire & sweet, Was cleare as is y^e Christall streame, that runs along y^e street. How Troyll he that noble knight, was drunk in loue and bad goodnight So bending leg likewise; do you not vs despise.

Land.

Most vgly lines and base-browne-paper-stuffe▪ Thus to abuse our heauenly poesie, That sacred off-spring from the braine of Ioue, Thus to be mangled with prophane absurds, Strangled and chok't with lawlesse bastards words

Mauo.

I see (my Lord this home-spun country stuffe, Brings little liking to your curious eare, Be patient for perhaps the play will mend.

Enter Troylus and Cresida.

Troy.

Come Cresida my Cresset light, Thy face doth shine both day and night, Behold, behold, thy garter blue, Thy knight his valiant elboe weares, That When he shakes his furious Speare, The foe in shiuering fearefull sort, May lay him downe in death to snort.

Cres.

O knight with vallour in thy face, Here take my skreene weare it for grace, Within thy Helmet put the same, Therewith to make thine enemies lame.

Land.

Lame stuffe indeed the like was neuer heard.

Enter a roaring Diuell with the Vice on his back Iniqui∣ty in one hand; and Iuventus in the other.

Vice.

Passion of me sir, puffe puffe how I sweat sir, The dust out of your coate sir, I intend for to beat sir.

Iuv.

I am the prodigall child, I that I am, Who sayes I am not, I say he is too blame.

Iniq.

And I likewise am Iniquitie Beloued of many alasse for pitty.

Diuell.

Ho ho ho, these babes mine are all, The Vice, Iniquitie and child Prodigall.

Land.

Fie what vnworthy foolish foppery, Presents such buzzardly simplicity.

Mauo.

No more, no more, vnlesse twere better, And for the rest yee shall be our debter.

Post.

My Lords, of your accords, some better pleasure for to bring, if you a theame affords, you shall knowe it, that I Post-hast the Poet, extempore can sing.

Lan.

I pray my Lord let's ha••te, the Play is so good, That this must needs be excellent.

Mauo.

Content (my Lord) pray giue a theame.

Theam.

Land.

Your Poetts and your Pottes, Are knit in true-Loue knots.

The Song extempore.

Giue your Scholler degrees, and your Lawyer his fees And some dice for Sir Petronell flash: Giue your Courtier grace, and your Knight a new case, And empty their purses of cash. Giue your play-gull a stoole, and my Lady her foole, And her vsher potatoes and marrow But your Poet were he dead, set a pot to his head, And he rises as peart a sparrow. O delicate wine with thy power so diuine, Full of rauishing sweete inspiration, Yet a verse may runne cleare that is tapt out of beare: Especially in the vacation. But when the terme comes, that with trumpets and drumes, Our play houses ringe in confusion, Then Bacchus me murder, but rime we no further, Some sacke now, vpon the conclusion.

Mau.

Giue them forty pence let them goe, How likes Landulpho this extempore song?

Exeunt players.

Lan.

I blush in your behalfes at this base trasn; In honour of our Italy we sport, As if a Synod of the holly Gods▪ Came to tryumph within our Theaters, (Alwaies commending English curtesie.) Our Amphitheaters and Pyramides▪ Are scituate like three-headded Dindymus, Where stand the Statues of three striuing Queenes, That once contended for the goulden ball, (Alwaies commending English curtesie.)

Are not your curious ••ames of sharper spirit? I haue a mistresse whose ••ntangling wit, Will turne and winde more cunning arguments, Then could the Craetan Labyrinth ingyre. (Alwayes commending English courtesie,)

Mau.

Good sir, you giue our English Ladyes cause, Respectiuely to applaud th' Italian guise, Which proudly hence-forth we will prosecute.

Land.

Command what fashion Italy affoords.

Phil.

By'r Lady sir, I like not of this pride, Giue me the ancient hospitallity, They say 'tis merry in hall, when beards wag all. The Italian Lord is an Asse, the song is a good song,

Actus tertij, scaena I.

Enter Pride, Vaine-glory, Hypocrisie, and Contempt: Pride casts a mist, wherein Mauortius and his company vanish off the Stage, and Pride and her attendants remaine.

Pride.

Braue mindes, now beautifie your thoughts with pompe, Send forth your Shipps vnto the furthest Seas, Fetch mee the feathers of th' Arabian Birds, Bring Mermaides combes, and glasses for my gaze: Let all your sundry imitating shapes, Make this your natiue soyle, 'the land of Apes. Then Ladies trick your traines with Turkish pride, Plate your disheau led haire with ropes of Pearle, Weare sparkling Diamonds like twinckling starres, And let your spangled crownes shine like the Sunne, "If you will sit in throne of state with Pride, "The newest fashion (still) must be your guide. Vain. Vaine-glory vowes to lackey by thy foote, Till she hath swolne mens hearts with Arrogance.

Hyp.

In like designes, twofac'd Hypocrisie, Is prest to spend her deepest industry.

Gont.

And (till her soueraignty decline and bow) Contempt shall be enthron'd in euery browe.

Pry.

Then thus, (as soueraigne Empresse of all sinnes) Pryde turnes her houre and heere her Sceane beginnes.

Enter Furcher, and Vourcher; two Lawyers.

Vour.

How shall we best imploy this idle time?

Four.

Lets argue on some case for exercise.

Vour.

You see the full gorg'd world securely sleepes, And sweet contention (Lawyers best content) Is sent by drowsie Peace to banishment.

Pryd.

O these be Lawyers! Concords enemies, Prydes fuell shall their fire of strife increase.

aside.

Enter Velure and Lyon-rash.

Four.

Signior Vourcher, know you those Cittizens?

Vour.

They are two wealthy Merchants and our friends.

Four.

Yt may be they haue brought vs welcome fees.

Pry.

Lawyers and Merchants met! bestir thee Pride.

aside

Vel.

In faith no sute sir, quiet, quiet all.

Pry.

Fortune and health attend you Gentlemen.

Four.

We thanke you Lady; may we craue your name?

Pry.

Men call me Pryde, and I am Plenties heire: Immortall, though I beare a mortall showe. Are not you Lawyers, from whose reuerend lippes Th'amaxed multitude learne Oracles? Are not you Merchants, that from East to West. From th' antartieke to the Artick Poles, Bringing all treasure that the earth can yeeld?

Omnes.

We are, (most worthy Lady)

Pry.

Then vse your wisedome to enrich your selues, Make deepe successe high Steward of your store. Enlarge your mighty spirits, striue to excede, In buildings, ryot, garments gallantry. For take this note: The world the show affects,

Playne Vertue, (vilie cladde) is counted Vice, And makes high blood indure base praeiudice.

Vour.

But wee haue Lawes to limitte our attire.

Pry.

Broke with the least touch of a golden wyer.

Vel.

Yet wisedome still commands to keepe a meane,

Pry.

True, had you no meanes to excell the same, But hauing power, labour to ascend, The fames of mighty men do neuer end,

Four.

Is not Ambition an aspiring sinne?

Pry.

Yes for blind batts and birds of lazy wing.

Lyon.

Me seemes ti's good to keepe within our bounds,

Pry.

Why beasts themselues, of bounds are discontent, Spend me your studies to get offices, Then stooping suiters with vncouered heads May groaning come, vnbowelling the bagges, Of their rich burthens, in your wide mouth'd deskes.

Lyon.

But men will taxe vs to want charity.

Pry.

True charity beginneth first at home, Heere in your bosomes dwell your deere-lou'd hearts, Feed them with ioy; first crowne their appetites, And then cast water on the care-scorch't face, Let your owne longings first be satisfied, All other pitty is but foolish pryde.

Four.

Sweet councell; worthy of most high regard, All our indeauours shall be to aspire.

Vonr.

Ours to be rich and gallant in attire.

Pry.

All to be braue, else all of no respect, It is the habit, doth the mind deiect.

Vour.

Lets braue it out, since Pride hath made vs knowe, Nothing is grac'd that wants a glorious showe.

Exeunt: manet Pryde.

Pry.

The puft vp spirits of the greater sort. Shall make them scorne the abiect and the base; Th' impatient spirit of the wretched sort, Shall thinke imposed duties their disgrace, Poore naked neede shall be as full of pryde,

As he that for his wealth is Deifide.

Exit.

Enter Steward, with foure Seruingmen, with Swords and Bucklers, in their hose and doublets.

1. ser.

No Steward with discharge shall vs disgrace,

Stew.

Why all the Lords haue now cashierd their traines.

2 ser.

But we haue seru'd his father in the field.

3. ser.

What, thinke they boyes can serue to beard their foes?

Enter Mauortius and Philarchus with their pages.

Page.

Be patient fellow, seest thou not my Lord?

1. ser.

What an I see him? puppet prating ape?

2. ser.

We are no stocks, but we can feele disgrace.

3. ser.

Not tonglesse blocks, but since we feele, weele speak.

Mauo.

What a coyle keepes those fellows there?

Stew.

These impudent audatious seruing-men, Scarcely beleeue your honours late discharge.

Exit,

1. ser.

Beleeue it? by this sword and buckler no, Stript of our liueries, and discharged thus?

Mauo.

Walke sirs, nay walke; awake yee drowsie drones, That long haue suckt the honney from my hiues; Be gone yee greedy beefe-eaters y' are best: The Callis Cormorants from Douer roade, Are not so chargeable as you to feed.

Phil.

'Tis true my Lord, they carelesly deuoure. In faith good fellowes get some other trade, Yee liue but idle in the common-wealth.

Mauo.

Broke we not house vp, you would breake our backs.

1 ser.

We breake your backs? no 'tis your rich lac'd sutes, And straight lac'd mutton; those breake all your backs.

Phil.

Cease Ruffians, with your swords and bucklers, hence.

2 ser.

For seruice, this is sauage recompence. Your Fathers bought lands and maintained men? You sell your lands, and scarse keepe rascall boyes, Who Ape-like iet, in garded coates; are whipt For mocking men? though with a shamlesse face, Yet gracelesse boyes can neuermen disgrace.

3. Ser.

Desertfull vertue: O impiety!

Exeunt.

Mau.

My Lord Philarchus, follow all my course, I keepe a Taylor, Coach-man, and a Cooke, The rest for their boord-wages may goe looke, A thousand pound a yeare, will so be sau'd For reuelling, and banquetting and playes.

Phil.

Playes, well remembred, we will haue a play, Steward lets haue Sir Olliuer Owlets men,

Mau.

Philarchus, I mislike your fashion?

Phil.

Faith Ile fly intoo't with a sweeping wing, Me thinkes your honours hose sit very well, And yet this fashion is growne so stale;

Mau.

Your hat is of a better blocke then mine.

Phil.

Is on a better block, your Lordship meanes;

Mau,

Without all question tis, he that denies, Either he hath no iudgement or no eyes.

Phil.

Your Lord-ships doublet-skirt is short and neate,

Mau.

Who sits there, finds the more vneasie seate;

Enter a Page.

Pag.

My Lords, your Supper staies; tis eight a clock,

Mau.

What, is't so late, that fashion's not so good.

Exeunt.

Enter Perpetuana, Eillisella, Bellula with them a Ieweller, a Tyre-woman, and a Taylour; with euery one their seuerall furniture.

Perp.

Of our three Iewells (sir) which likes you best?

Iew.

An excellent piece, this those excells as sarre, As glorious Tytan staines a silly Starte;

Filli.

Tush, be not partiall, but pervse mine well, See you not proud Vlisses carrying spoyles;

Iew.

The rest are but (to this) in sooth base foyles, And yet they all are ritch and wondrous faire,

Bell.

But trash; Ile haue a Iewell Amatist, Whose beauty shall strike blind the gazers Eye;

Perp.

Ile put it downe, one promisd to deuise A Globelike Iewell cut transparently, And in the place of fixed starres, to set The richest stones that mightiest summes could get.

Fill.

Nay Ile be matchlesse for a carckanet, Whose Pearles and Diamonds plac'd with ruly rocks Shall circle this faire necke to set it forth,

Bell.

Well Goldsmith, now you may begone.—Taylour,

Exit Ieweller

Ile haue a purfled Roabe, loose boddied-wise. That shall enioy my iewells may denhead.

Tay.

The loosest bodies are in fashion most,

Perp.

We better know what likes vs best, then you, Let me haue flaring fashions, tuck't and pinn'd That powerfull winds may heaue it all a huffe,

Bell.

True measure of my body shalbe tane, Plaine dealing is the best when all is done, That fall Pride taught vs when we first begun.

Fill.

Ile haue a rich imbost imbrothery, On which invaluable pretious Roabe, Ile hang the glorious brightnesse of my Globe. Mistresse Pinckanie is my new ruffe done?

Pinc.

Beleeue me Madam tis but new begun.

Bell.

Let pinching citty-dames orecloud their Eies, Our brests lie forth like conduicts of delight Able to tice the nicest appetite, Mistresse Pinckanie, shall I haue this Fanne,

Pink.

Maddam not this weeke doe what I can,

Fill.

Pleasure as bondslaue, to our wills is tyed, We Ladies cannot be defam'd with Pride, Come, let's haue a play, let poore slaues prate Ranck pride in meanest sort, in vs is state, Remember promise mistres Pinkanie.

Pink.

Well Ladies, though with worke I am opprest, Workewomen alwaies liue by doing, best.

Exeunt,

Enter Chrisoganus Posthast, Gulch, Clout, Gut, and Belch.

Bell.

Chrisoganus faith what's the lowest price,

Chri.

You know as well as I; tenne pound a play.

Gull.

Our Companie's hard of hearing of that side,

Chri.

And will not this booke passe, alasse for pride, I hope to see you starue and storme for bookes, And in the dearth of rich inuention, When sweet smooth lines are held for pretious Then will you fawne and crouch to Poesie,

Clot.

Not while goosequillian Posthast holds his pen.

Gut.

Will not our owne stuffe serue the multitude?

Chri.

VVrite on, crie on, yawle to the common sort Of thickskin'd auditours: such rotten stuffs, More fit to fill the pauneh of Esquiline, Then feed the hearings of iudiciall eares, Yee shades tryumphe, while foggy Ignorance Clouds bright Apollos beauty: Time will cleere, The misty dullnesse of Spectators Eeys, Then wofull hisses to your fopperies, O age when euery Scriueners boy shall dippe? Prophaning quills into Thessaliaes Spring, When euery artist prentice that hath read The pleasant pantry of conceipts, shall dare, To write as confident as Hercules. When euery Ballad-monger boldly writes: And windy forth of bottle-ale doth fill Their purest organ of inuention: Yet all applauded and puft vp with pryde, Swell in conceit, and load the Stage with stuffe, Rakt from the rotten imbers of stall iests: Which basest lines best please the vulgar sence Make truest rapture lose preheminence.

Bel.

The fellow doth talke like one that can talke,

Guit.

Is this the well-learn'd man Chrissganus, He beats the Ayre the best that ere I heard,

Chri.

Yee scrappes of wit, base Ecchoes to our voice, Take heed yee siumble not with stalking hie? Though fortune reeles with strong prosperity.

Exit.

Clou.

Farwell the Muses, poore Poet adiew, When we haue need't may be weele send for you.

Enter Steward.

Stew.

My Lord hath sent request to see a play.

Post.

Your Lord? what, shall our paines be soundly recom∣penc'd? With open hand of honours srancke reward?

Stew.

Yee shall haue foure faire Angells gentlemen,

Clout.

Faire Ladies meane you? we haue foure i'th' play

Ste.

Nay (my good friends) I meane in faire pure gold.

Gull.

Fie tis to much, too long ere it be told,

Stew.

Mas these are single iests indeed, But I will double it once, ye shall haue eight.

Post.

But are you sure that none will want the weight? To wey downe our expence in sumptuous Clothes?

Bell.

Well, pleasures pride shall mount to higher rate, Tenne pound a play will scarce maintaine our state,

Stew.

Fat Plenty brings in Pride and Idlenesse: The world doth turne a Maze in giddy round: This time doth rayse, what other times confound.

Post.

O sir, your morall lines were better spent, In matters of more worthy consequent.

Gull.

Well, whilest occasion helpes to clime alofft, Wee'le mount Promotions highest battlement.

Stew.

And breake your necks I hope; clime not too fast, A heady course, confusion ends at last.

Post.

Preach to the poore; looke Steward, to your compt, Direct your houshold, teach not vs to mount:

Stew.

Farewell yee proud (I hope they heare me not) Proud Statute Rogues.

Exit they follow.

Enter Fourcher, Velure, Lyon-rash, Champerty and Calamancha, their wiues.

Champ.

Faith husband, Ile haue one to beare my traine, Another bare before to vsher me.

Cala.

Nay I my selfe will learne the Courtly grace, Honour shall giue my wealth a higher place. Out on these veluet gards, and black lac'd sleeues, These simpering fashions simply followed.

Cham.

Well, through the streetes in thundring coache Ile ride, Why serues our wealth, but to maintaine our pride? Lawe, Armes, and Merchandize, these are three heads, From whence Nobility first tooke his spring. Then let our haughty mindes our fortunes spend, Pleasure and honour shall our wealth attend.

Calla.

Nay I will haue it, I that I will.

Four.

Containe your speech, within your priuate thoughts, Wee are encountred with the honour'd traine.

Enter Mauortius, Philarchus, Fillissella, Bellula, and others.

Mauo.

Faire Ladies, could these times affoord you cates, You should be feasted in Apolloes hall; But (Lords) the chaps of wide-pancht gluttonie, Haue wasted all the dainties of the land. Seruant Philarchus, what, no maske too night?

Phil.

A Play, a Maske, a Banquet, weele haue all.

Enter Steward.

Stew.

My Lord, the Players now are growne so proud, Ten pound a play, or no point Comedy.

Exit.

Mauo.

What? insolent with glib prosperity? Faith Gentlemen no Players will appeare: Gallants, to your Maske.

Phil.

How soone they can remember to forget, Their vndeserued Fortunes and esteeme; Blush not the peasants at their pedigree?

Suckt pale with lust; what, bladders swolne with pride, To strout in shreds of nitty brogerie?

Mauo.

Well, though the penny raisd them to the pound, Iust Enuie, causelesse Pride doth still confound.

Phil.

Well let them blase, ther's none so blind but sees, Prydes fall is still frost-bit with miseries.

Enter a Maske.

What, come they in so blunt without deuise?

Fill.

The night is dead before the sport be borne.

Mauor.

Cease Musick there, prepare to banquet sirs.

Phi.

Ceres and Bacchus tickled Venus stirres.

Mau.

Gallants vnmaske, and fall to banquetting, A health about, carowse shall feede carowse.

Phil

The first is pledg••d, and heere begins a fresh.

Mau

This royall health of welcome greetes you all.

Vouch.

Bacchus begins to reele with going round.

Phil.

The grape begins to fume.

Mauor.

Why let it fret: not pledge a Nobleman.

Champ.

I like this Iewell, Ile haue his fellow.

Bell.

How? you? what fellow it? gip Veluet gards.

Champ.

Insolent for-beare.

Mauor.

A petty-foggers whoodded wise so pearcht?

Cham.

Why not proud Lord? then bid your mincks come downe.

Vouch.

Dishonourable Lord, I say thou li'st.

Mauor.

I challenge thee on that disgracefull word,

Vouch.

Heere answer I thy challenge in this wine.

Mauo.

I will confirme thy pledge, and meete thee too.

They speake and fall a sleepe on the Stage. Sound Musicke.

Enter Enuy alone to all the Actors sleeping on the Stage: the mnsicke sounding: shee breaths amongst them.

Enuy.

Downe climbing Pride to Stygian Tartarie, The breath of Enuy fils the empty world, Enuy, whose nature is to worke alone,

As hating any Agent but her selfe, Turne, turne, thou Lackey to the winged Tyme, I enuie thee in that thou art so slow, And I so swift to mischiefe: So, now stand, Peace, Plenty, Pryde, had their competitors, But I enioy my Soueraignty alone. Now shall proud Noblesse, Law, and Merchandize, Each swell at other, as their veines would breake, Fat Ignorance, and rammish Barbarisme, Shall spit and driuell in sweete Learnings face, Whilst he halfe staru'd in Enuie of their power, Shall eate his marrow, and him-selfe deuoure, Awake yee Brawne-fed Epicures, looke vp, And when you thinke your clearest eyes to finde. Be all their Organs strooke with Enuie blind.

Exit.

They all awake, and begin the following Acte.

Actus 4. Scaena 1.

Mauo.

O pallid Enuie how thou suck'st my bloud, And wastes my vitall spirits: I could raue, Runne madde with anguish, for my slight respect, O wher's the honour to my high borne bloud! When euery peasant, each Plebeian, Sits in the throne of vndeseru'd repute, When euery Pedlers-French is term'd Monsignuer, When broad-cloathd trades-man, and what lack you sir. Is wrapt in riche habiliments of silke, Whilst vrgent need makes Princes bend their knee, As seruile as the ignobilitie, To crouch for coyne, whilst flaues tye fast our Lands, In Statute Staple, or these Marchants bands.

Bellu.

Wan ghostlike Enuie, spungeth vp my bloud, Whil'st I behold yon halfe-fac'd Minion, The daughter of some Cloues and Cinamon,

To equall me in rich accoustrements. O, wher's the outward difference of our birth! When each odde-mincing mistresse Citty-Dame, Shall dare to bee as sumptuously adorn'd With Iewels, chaines, and richest ornaments, As wee from whom their Fathers held their land In bond-slaues Tenure, and base villianage.

Vouch.

Why should yon bubble of Nobility, Yon shade of Man appropriate Epithetes Of noble, and right honorable, Sir, To the blind Fortune of his happy birth? Why should this reeling world (drunke with the iuice Of Plenties bounty) giue such attribute Of soueraigne title, place and dignity, To that same swolne vp Lord, whom blinded chance, Aboue his vertues merite doth aduance, To high exalted state, whilst all repine, To see our sweate rewarded, and our paine Guerdond but with a single fee, an Angels gaine.

Champ.

God for his mercy, how yon Lady ietts, And swoopes along in Persian royalty. O, I could pine with Enuie, and consume My heart in fowle disdaine, that she should strout, And swell in ostentation of her birth, Decking the curled tresses of her haire With glittering ornaments, whilst I am pent In nice respect of ciuill modesty: Ile not indure it, Lawyers wiues shall shine, Spight of the lawe, and all that dare repine.

Vel.

Drops of cold sweat hang on my fretting brow, O, I could gnash my teeth, and whip my selfe, Parboyle my liuer in this enuious heate Of deepe repining Malice! I am vext, Stung with a Viperous impatience, That yon Nobility, yon Iohn a Stile, Should sole possesse the throne of dignity,

Whilst wee fat Burgomasters of the State, Rich treasuries of gold, full stuft vp trunkes, With all the fattest marrow of the land Should be debarr'd from types Maiesticall, And liue like Aesops Asse: whilst our meane birth Curbes our aspiring humours from the seate, Of honours mounted state; I cannot sleepe, My entrailes burne with scorne, that Merchandize, Should stand and lick the pauement with his knee, Bare-head and crouching to Nobility, Though forfeited to vs be all their state, Yet Enuie (still) my heart doth macerate.

Perp.

Gip Mistresse Madam, and French-hood intaild Vnto a Habeas Corpus: Iesu God, How proud they iet it, and must I giue wall? And bend my body to their Mistresse-ships, O husband, I am sick, my cheeke is pale With—

Vel.

With what my sweete?

Perp.

With Enuie, which no Physick can preuent; Shall I still stand an abiect in the eye, Of faire respect, not mounted to the height To the top gallant of o're-peering state, That with Elated lookes of Maiestie, I may out face the proud pild Eminence, Of this same gilded Madam Bellula, And yon same Ione a Noke, chain'd Champertie?

Vel

Content thee wife; the tide of Royalty, Shall onely flowe into our Merchandize, The gulphe of our Ambition shall deuoure All the supports of honour, lands and plate, Rich minerall Iewels, sumptuous pallaces, All shall be swallow'd by the yawning mouth Of hungry Auarice. Thus I plotted it, You see Mauortius stormie brow portends, Tempestuous whirle-windes of tumultuous armes,

Now when the breath of warre is once denounc'd, Then troupe the gallants to our wealthy shops. To take vp rich apparrell, pawne their land, To puffe vp Prides swolne bulke with plumy showes, Then, when the Actions expectation flags, And fills not vp the mouth of gaping hope, To vs returnes the mal' contented youth, And for the furnishment of one suite more, All, all, is ours, Iewells, plate and Lands, Al take cariere into the Marchants hands, Then come, withdraw, and coole thy enuious heate, My pollicy shall make thy hopes repleate.

Exeunt Velu. and Perpetu.

Camp.

And shall I still (deere Vourcher) sit below, Giue place to Madams and these citty dames, O, how my enuy at their glory flames.

Vour.

Be patient but a while (sweete Campertie,) And I will make the world doe fealty, To thy exalted State: the Law shall stand, Like to a waxen nose, or Lesbian rule. A diall Gnomon, or a wethercocke, Turn'd with the breath of greatnesse euery way, On whose incertaintie, our certaine ground Of towring hight shall stand inuincible: The Dubious Law shall nurse dissention, Which being pamper'd with our feeding helpes, Wee'le swell in greatnesse and our pallace Towers Shall pricke the ribs of Heauen with proud height: Then let thy Enuy cease, since thy high fate, Shall not discerne a fortune more Elate.

Exeunt Vour. and Champ.

Bel.

Se with what slight respect they passe from vs, Not giuing to our birth's their due saluts, O Deerest Lord! shall high borne Bellula? Be suncke, and thus obscur'd by the proud shine, Of yon sophisticate base Alcumie,

You b••llion stuffe: O noble blouds repine! That durt vsurpes the orbe, where you should shine.

Mau.

Content thee sweet, the lightning of my armes, Shall purge the aire of these grosse foggy clouds, That doe obscure our births bright radiance, When Iron Mars mounts vp his plumy Crest, The Law and Merchandize in rust may rest, Then Euy cease; for e're the Sonne shall set, Ile buckle on Mauortius burganet.

Exeunt Mauo. and Bell.

Enter Chrisoganus solus.

Chri.

Snmma petit liuor, perflant altissima venti, Then poore Chrisoganus, whole enuy thee, Whose dusky fortune hath no shining glosse That Enuies breath can blast? O I could curse This ideot world! This ill nurs'd age of Peace, That foster all saue vertue; comforts all Sauing industrious art, the soules bright gemme, That crussheth downe the sprowting stemmes of Art, Blasts forward wits with frosty cold contempt, Crowning dull clodds of earth with honours, Wreath guilding the rotten face of barbarisme With the vnworthy shine of Eminence. O! I could wish my selfe consum'd in aire, When I behold these huge fat lumpes of flesh, These big-bulkt painted postes, that sencelesse Ssand, to haue their backes pasted with dignity, Quite choaking vp all passage to respect: These huge Colossi that rowle vp and downe, And fill vp all the seate of man with froth Of outward semblance, whilst pale Artizans. Pine in the shades of gloomy Academes, Faint in pursuite of vertue, and quite tierd For want of liberall food▪ for liberall Art Giue vp the goale to sluggish Ignorance.

O whether doth my passion carry mee? Poore foole, leaue prating, enuy not their shine, Who still will florish, though great Fate repine.

Exit.

Enter Belsh, Gulsh, Gutt, and Clowt with an Ingle.

Gul.

Iacke of the Clock-house, wher's Maister Post-hast?

Bel

In my booke for Slow-pace, twelue-pence on'spate, for staying so late.

Gut.

Prologue begin; rehearse, &c. Gentlemen in this enuious age we bring Bayard For Bucephalus: if mierd, bogg'd, Draw him forth with your fauours, So promising that we neuer meane to performe Our Prologue peaceth.

Gul.

Peaceth? what peaking Pag••nter pend that?

Bel.

Who but Maister Post-hast.

Gut.

It is as dangerous to read his name at a playe-dore As a printed bill on a plague dore.

Gul.

You weare the hansom'st compast hilt I haue seene;

Ingle.

Doth this fashion like my friend so well.

Bel.

So well I meane to weare it for your sake.

Ingle.

I can deny thee nothing if I would.

Gul.

Fie how this Ingling troubles our rehearsall: say on.

Gut.

Fellow Belsh you haue found a haunt at my house You must belch and breath your spirits some, where else.

Bel.

Iealious of me with your seate for Maister Iohn,

Gut.

When the door's shut the signe's in Capricorne

Clow.

Then you might heaue the latch vp with your horne

Gul.

This Cockoldly coyle hinders our rehearsall.

Gut.

Ile teare their turret toppes, Ile beat their Bulwarcks downe, Ile rend such Raskalls form their ragges, And whippe them out of towne.

Bel.

Patience (my Lord) your fury strayes too farre.

Gul.

Stay sirs, rehearse no farther then you are

For here be huffing parts in this new booke;

Gutt.

Haue Ier'e a good humour in my part?

Gull.

Thou hast neere a good one out of thy part;

Bell.

Ile play the conquering King that likes me best,

Gutt.

Thou play the cowardly knaue; thou dost but ieast,

Clou.

Halfe a share, halfe a shirt, a Comedian A hole share, or turne Cameleon.

Gull.

Well sirs, the gentlemen see into our trade, We cannot gull them with browne-paper stusse, And the best Poets growne so enuious They'le starue rather then we get store of mony.

Gut.

Since dearth of Poets lets not players liue by wit To spight them lets to warres, and learne to vse a spit.

Clout.

O excellent ill a spit to rost a rime.

Gutt.

Twill serue you to remember dinner time.

Bell.

Thats true tis time, let's away.

Exeunt.

Actus quintus.

Enter Warre Ambition, Fury, Horror, Ruine.

War.

Rule fier-eied Warre, reuell in blood and flames, Enuy, whose breath hath poysoned all estates, Hath now resigned her spightfull throne to vs: Stand forth Ambition; fly through the land, And enter euery brest of noble blood, Infect their honored mindes with factious thoughts, And make them glister in opposed armes: Let vniust force and scarlet Tyranny Wait on their Actions till their vlcers breake, Or else be launced by the hand of Warre, Which cannot be without a lasting scarre,

Ambi.

Ambition like a Pestilence doth fly, To poyson Honour and Nobility.

Exit Ambition.

War.

Fury, thy turne is next, goe now and fill The trunck of Peasants with thy dangerous breath, Inspire them with the spirit of Mutiny, Rage, and rebellion, make them desperate Hurry them headlong vnto euery ill, Like dust rais'd with a whirl wind; let their eyes, Be euer fixt vpon the brused prints Made in their state by wilde oppression, And (after all) possesse them with this fire, That onely Warre must purchase their desire.

Fury.

Fury shall shine amongst this multitude, Like a bright Meteor in the darkest cloud.

Exit Fury.

War.

Horror shall greet the bosome of greene youth, The melting liuer of pied gallantry, The wrinckled vizard of Deuotion, The cheuerell conscience of corrupted law, And frozen heart of gowty Merchandize, Horror wound these, strike palsies in their limmes, And as thou stalk'st (in thy prodigious shape,) And meet'st a fellow swolne with mounted place; Shake him with glaunses of thy hollow eyes, And let thy vigour liue as his heart dies.

Horr.

Ynough, ere long, the ayre shall ring with shrikes. And sad lament of those, whom Horror strikes.

Exit. Horror.

War.

Horror adiew, These three, are Vshers to our Deity, Onely vast Ruine heere attends on vs, And is a follower of our high designes: Ruine thou faythfull seruant to grimme Warre, Now teach thy murdring shot to teare mens limm's, Thy brazen Cannos how to make a breache, In a fayre Citties bozome; teach thy fiers To climbe the toppes of houses; and thy mines,

To blow vp Churches in th'offended skye. Consume whole groues and standing fields of Corne In thy wild age, and make the proud earth groane, Vnder the weight of thy confusion.

Ruine.

This and much more shall Ruine execute.

War.

Meane while weele steepe our sinowie feet in blood And daunce vnto the Musicke of the field, Trumpets for trebbles, bases, bellowing drnmmes. Broyles Enuy bred, but Warre shall end those brawles, Deafe warre that will not heare a word of Peace: Sharpe pikes shall serue for subtle lawiers pens The Marchants silkes shall turne to shining steele, In steed of false-yard stickes, large horsemens staues, Shall measure out true pattern's of their graues.

Exeunt.

Enter Belsh setting vppe billes, Enter to him a Captaine.

Capt.

Sirra what set you vp there?

Belsh.

Text billes for Playes.

Capt.

What Playes in time of Warres? hold sirta Ther's a new plott.

Belsh.

How many meane you shall come in for this?

Capt.

Player tis presse money.

Bel.

Presse money, presse money, alasse sir presse me, I am no fit Actor for th action.

Capt.

Text billes must now be turn'd to Iron billes.

Exit Captaine.

Bel

And please you let them be dagger pies.

Enter an Officer, Post-hast, Gulsh, Gut and Clowt.

Ofiicer

Sir Oliuers men; the last Players tooke the Townes reward like honest men.

Gulsh

Those were a cupple of Cunnicatchers that Coosen Maiors, and haue no consort but themselues,

But we are a full company, and our credit with our Maister knowne.

Offi.

Meane while ther's presse-mony, for your reward,

Clou.

No (I thanke your worship) we meane not to trou∣ble your towne at this time.

Offi.

Well Masters, you that are maister-sharers, Must prouide you vpon your owne purses,

Gut.

Alasse sir, we Players are priuieldg'd, Tis our Audience must fight in the field for vs, And we vpon the stage for them.

Post.

Sir as concerning halfe a score angells Or such a matter for a man in my place.

Offi.

Those daies are out of date.

Bels.

The more's the pitty sir,

Exit Officer.

Guls.

Well, I haue a Brewer to my Ingle, Heele furnish me with a horse great inough.

Post.

Faith Ile eene past all my ballads together, And make a coate to hold out pistoll-proofe;

Clout.

I meruaile what vse I should make of my Ingle, The hobby-horse-seller.

Gutt.

Fa••th make him sell a whole troupe of horse To buy thee one.

Bel.

Sirrs, if these soldiers light vpon our playing parrell, they'le strout it in the field, and flaunt it out.

Post.

Well sirs, I haue no stomacke to these warres,

Gut.

Faith, I haue a better stomacke to my breakfast.

Clont.

A shrewd mornings worke for Players,

Omn.

Let's be gon?

Exeunt.

Enter Mauortius and Larius on one side, Philarchus and Hiletus on the other with weapons Drawne: Chrisoganus betweene them. Ambition breathing amongst them.

Chri.

Haue patience worthy Lords, and calme your spirits.

Mauo.

Peace prating Scholler: bid the Sea be still,

When powerfull windes doc tosse the raging waues, Or stay the winged lightning in his course; When thou doost this, thy words shall charme me too. Till then preserue thy breath.

Phi.

Mauortius, dar'st thou maintaine thy words?

Mauo.

How? dare Philarchus? yes, I dare doe more; In bloud or fire; or where thou darst not come; In the numme fingers of cold death I dare.

Phi.

Swallow those words, or thou shalt eate my sword.

Lar.

He is no Estrich sir he loues no yron.

Hil.

And yet me thinkes he should be by his plume.

Mauo.

What are you playing with my feather too?

They all runne one at another, Chrysog: steps betweene them.

Chri.

O stay your rages, Let not Ambition captiuate your blood, Make not your hates obiects for vulgar eyes.

Mauo.

A pox vpon this linguist, take him hence; Philarchus, I defie thee, and in scorne, Spit on thy bozome: vowing heere by heauen, If either sword, or fire, or strength of men, Or any other steeled violence, Can bring to swift confusion what is thine, Vpon this gratefull soyle; it shall be done.

Phi.

And when 'ts done, I will restore my wrongs Out of thy Forts, thy Castles and thy lands.

Mauo.

My lands?

Phi.

I, factious Lord, till then adiew, Weele shine like Commets in next enter-view.

Exennt Phi. and Hile.

Mauo.

My soule is bigge in trauaile with reuenge, And I could rip her wombe vp with a stabbe, To free th' imprisoned issue of my thought.

Exeunt, manet Chisoganus.

Chri.

O, how this vulture, (vile Ambition,) Tyers on the heart of greatnesse, and deuoures, Their bleeding honours, whil'st their empty names,

Lye chain'd vnto the hill of infamie: Now is the time wherein a melting eye May spend it selfe in teares, and with salt drops, Write woe, and desolation in the dust, Vpon the frighted bosome of our land, Pitty and Piety are both exilde, Religion buried with our Fathers bones, In the cold earth; and nothing but her face, Left to adorne these grosse and impious times.

stand a side.

A noise within crying, Liberty, liberty.

Enter a sort of Russetings and Mechanichalls, (F•••••• leading them) and crying confusedly.

Omnes.

Liberty, liberty, liberty.

1.

Nay but stay, stay, my Masters: we haue not insulted yet who shall be our Captaine.

2.

Masse that's true: faith let's all be Captaines.

3.

Content, so wee shall bee sure to haue no equalitie amongst vs.

4.

O, it's best, for, (for mine owne part) I scorne to haue an equall.

1.

Well then: what exploit shall we do first?

2.

Marry Ile tell you: Let's pluck downe the Church, and set vp an Ale-house.

Omnes.

O excellent, excellent, excellent, a rare exploit, a rare exploite.

1.

Good: this is for exploite: but then there's a thing cal'd Action.

3.

O, that's going to Sea; that, we haue nothing to do with∣all,

4.

No, we are all for the land, wee.

2.

Land, I: weele pluck downe all the noble houses in the land, e're we haue done.

1.

It were a most noble seruice, and most worthy of the Chronicle.

2.

Slid, these Lords are growne so proud, Nay, weele haue a fling at the Lawyers too.

3.

O, I, first of all at the Lawyers.

4.

True, that we may haue the law in our owne hands.

1.

O then we may take vp what we will of the Marchants.

2.

I and forfet our bonds at pleasure, no body can sue vs.

3.

O, 'twill be rare: I wonder how much Veluet will ••••∣parell me and my horse.

4.

Talke not of that man, weele haue inough: All shall be common.

1.

Wiues and all: what, Helter, skelter.

2.

Slid, we are men as well as they are.

3.

And we came all of our Father Adam.

2.

Goe to then, why should we be their slaues?

Omnes.

Liberty, liberty, liberty.

Exeunt.

Chri.

See, see, this common beast the multitude, (Transported thus with fury) how it raues; Threatning all states with ruine, to englut Their bestiall and more brutish appetites. O you auspicious, and diuinest powers, (That in your wisdomes suffer such dread plagues To flowe and couer a rebellious land) Giue end vnto their furies! and driue back The roaring torrent on the Authors heads, That (in their pride of Rage) all eyes may see. Iustice hath whips to scourge impiety.

Exit.

Enter Lyon-rash to Fourchier sitting in his study: at one end of the stage: At the other end enter Vour∣cher to Velure in his shop.

Lyon.

Good morrow maister Fourcher.

Four.

Maister Lyon-rash you are welcome: How fare you sir, in these prodigious times?

Lyon.

Troth like a man growne wilde and desperate, E'ene spent with horror of their strange effects.

Four.

I feare they will be much more stranger yet.

Lyon.

And you haue cause to feare sir.

Fou.

So haue you: if wealth may make a man suspect his state, What newes heare you sir? sit downe I pray you.

They sit and whisper whilst the other two speake.

Vouu.

I wonder how you dare keepe open shoppe, Considering the tumults are abroad: They say the Nobles all are vp in armes, And the rude commons in disseuerd troupes Haue gathered dangerous head, and make such spoyle, As would strike dead a true reporters tongue.

Vel.

Faith I am ignorant what course to take, Wee i'th Citty heere are so distracted As if our spirits were all earth and ayre, I know not how: each houre heere comes fresh newes, And nothing certaine

The other two againe.

Four.

Well if this be true, The issue cannot be but dangerous,

Lyon.

O they haue made the violent'st attempts That ere were heard of: ruin'd Churches, Townes, Burn't goodly Mannours, and indeed layd wast. All the whole Country as they passe along.

The other.

Vour.

Ther's no preuention if they once come heere But that our Citty must endure the sack.

Vel.

I feare it sir.

Vour.

Faith we are sure to feele The fury of the tempest when it comes. The Law and Merchandize may both go begge.

Enter Champerty to her husband and Lyon-rash.

Cham.

Where are you husband, do you heere the newes?

Four.

What newes on Gods name?

Cham.

O the enimies.! Four. What of the enemies?

Cham.

They are entred into the citty.

Lyo.

Adiew good maister Fourcher.

Fou.

Lord haue mercy vpon vs,

Cham.

O good Maister Lyon-rash goe pray.

Exeunt Four. Lyon, Cham.

Vel.

How now, what noyse is this?

Vou.

They cry arme arme me thinkes.

Enter Perpetuana.

Perp.

O sweet heart the Spaniards are come, We shall all be kild they say. Maister Vourcher what shall we doe? O Lord.

Enter a sort of fellowes with armour and weapons and crosse the stage crying arme, arme, arme.

Omn,

Arme, arme, arme.

Exeunt.

Enter a Captaine with Souldiers: the Souldiers hauing most of the Players apparrell; and bringing out the Players among'st them.

Soul.

Come on Players, now we are the Sharers And you the hired men: Nay you must take patience, Slid how do you march? Sirha is this you would rend and teare the Cat Vpon a Stage, and now march like a drown'd rat? Looke vp and play the Tamburlaine: you rogue you.

Exeunt.

Enter all the factions of Noblemen, Peasants, and Cittizens figh∣ting: the ruder sorte driue in the rest and cry a sacke, a sacke, Hauoke hauocke, Burne the Lawiers bookes; teare the Silkes out of the shops: in that confusi∣on: the Scholler scaping from among them, they all go out and leaue him vpon the Stage.

Chri.

Thus Heauen (in spite of fury) can preserue,

The trustfull innocent, and guiltlesse Soule; O, what a thing is man, that thus forgets The end of his creation; and each houre Strikes at the glory of his maker thus? What brazen vizage, or black yron soule Hath strength to Iustifie so Godlesse deeds? Hee that is most infeoft to Tyrannie, The man whose Iawes burne most with thirst of bloud, What coulours or thin cobweb can he weaue, To couer so abhor'd iniquities? If then there be no shadow, no pretext, To vaile their loathed bodies; what should make Men so inamour'd on this Strumpet warre. To doate vpon her forme? when (in her selfe) Shee's made of nothing, but infectious plagues. Witnesse the present Chaos of our Sceane, Where euery streete is chain'd with linckes of spoile, Heere proud Ambition rides; there Furie flies, Heere Horror; and there ruthlesse Murder stalkes, Led on by Ruine, and in Steele and fire, That now on toppes of houses; now in vaults, Now in the sacred Temples; heere, and there Runnes wilde.

Exit.

Allarmes in seuerall places, that brake him off thus: After a retreat sounded, the Musicke playes and Pouerty enters.

Actus Sextus

Scaena 1.

Enter Pouerty, Famine, Sicknesse, Bondage, and Sluttishnesse.

Pouer.

Raigne Pouerty in spite of tragick warre, And tiumph ouer glittering vanitie, Though want be neuer voide of bitter woes, Yet slow-pac'd remedy, true patience showes, See worldling worlds of Vertue lin'd within, Though sinners all; yet least repleat with sinne. I scorne a scoffing foole about my Throne, An Artlesse Ideot; that (like Esops Dawe, Plumes fairer fether'd birds: no, Pouerty, Will dignifie her chaire with deepe Diuines, Philosophers and Schollers feast with me, As well as Martialists in misery. First change the houre from fiue to fatall sixe, Then ring forth knells of heauie discontent, With fighes and groanes whil'st I haue gouernment.

Famin.

Thin Famine needs must follow Pouerty. My bones lye open, like a withered tree By stormes disbarkt of her defending skinne, So neere the heart the weather beates within.

Sick.

O end thy Age! that we may end our dayes,

Once Obiects, now all Abiects to the world, For after feeble Sicknesse death ensues, And endeth griefe that happy ioye renews.

Bond.

Then Bondage shall vnbolt those cruell barres, That thralls faire honour in obscure reproach, And sauage-like yoakes vp humanity, To bind in chaines true-borne ciuillity.

Slut.

Though Sluttishnesse be loathsome to her selfe, Penurious time must be obscaene and base, Who hates the rich must dwell with Pouerty, Since rule in any thing, is Soueraignty.

Pouer.

Were Pouerty a word more miserable Then Mans austere inuention could propound, Yet is poore Honesty rich Honors ground: Whose eyes vnuail'd like to th'vnhoodded Hawke, Looke straight on high, and in the end aspire, To feele the warmth of Princes holy fire. Yet Honor, Wealth, Lands, and who wins the prize, Obtaines but Vanity of Vanities. Come follow me my neuer failing friend.

Exeunt.

Enter Mauortius and Philarchus at seuerall doores.

Mauo.

The broyles of warre wherein I gloried more Then Priams Hector, who by burning walls, Was traild along (dread victories deepe fall) So from these gates my selfe in meane disgrace Am banisht forth, pinch't through with pouerty. Who tels vs all 'tis true that shee hath sed, Poore flyes will tickle Lyons being dead.

Phil.

The thirst of Honour call'd me to the warres, Where I haue drunke a health (too deepe a draught) My full-mouthd bags may now be fild with ayre, The Diuell and Ambition taught it me.

Mauo.

Is that Philarchus that complaines? 'tis so,

Phil.

See how Mauortius turnes away his face,

To seeke to friends 'tis holden for disgrace.

Mauo.

Time was, I could haue din'd amongst my friends, Now stands at euery doore a lack and Apes And tels me 'tis too late, his Lord hath din'd.

Phi.

This miserable world would make one mad; I stept vnto a Vintner at the Barre, And offered him my Rapier for a pawne; The sawcie slaue tooke it in such a scorne, And flung it in the streets, replying thus, Meere want brings weapons out of vse with vs.

Mauo.

See poore Philarchus powring out his plaints, To vnrelenting walls, relentlesse men.

Phil.

Are wounds rewards for Souldiers in the field? What? sell our lands, are these the fruits of Warre? Then dye Philarchus, let not shame suruiue, Thy fainting honour, dead and yet aliue.

Mauo.

Heere come our wiues, how wretchedly they looke.

Enter Perpetuana and Bellula.

Bel.

My Iewels pawnd, my rings are gone to wrack, The greedy Vsurer hath gotten all.

Perp.

I am a prey to wretched Pouerty, Ill featur'd Famine will deuoure vs vp, Whose wrinkled face, is like pale deaths aspect.

Phil.

Behold my wife like Winters parramour, Rob'd and bereau'd of nuptiall Ornaments. "Hide thee Philarchus lower then the graue, "The Earth will couer though it cannot saue.

Perp.

If men lament, whose wonted yron-hearts, Were harder then the Armour they haue worne, And waile the Agent of a womans voyce, What shall weake women and poore Ladies doe? Fall to those teares, that we were borne vnto.

Exeunt.

Mauo.

Could I but learne (with Craesus) to endure The falling sicknesse of sad Pouerty,

Who lost a rich commanding Emperie Patience would prooue a tutor to my grieues.

Chri.

Thou want's a Solan to consort with thee, To proue affliction is the perfect way That leads to Ioues tribunall dignity; Ill hast thou gouern'd thy prosperity, That canst not smile in meere aduersity. Looke vppon me (the poorest slaue in shew, That euer fortune buried in mishappe:) Yet this is Natures richest lewell-house And teacheth me to weepe at all your wants.

Phil.

Why, thou art farre more wretcheder then wee, How canst thou teach vs then tranquillity?

Chri.

See'st thou this poore and naked bozome heere? Dost thou behold this scorn'd vncouered head? When thou wast rich and Peerelesse in thy pride, Content did neuer harbour in thy brest, Nor ere had loue, her residence in thee, (I meane the loue of perfect happinesse) But skillesse grudging from a haughty spirit Did blind thy sences with a slender merit. Whil'st I (poore man) not subiect to such thought Gaue entertaine to those sweet blessed babes, Which Sapience brought from Wisedomes holy brest, And thought me rich to haue their company. By nursing them in Peace I shun'd all Sloth, Nor yet did Plenty make me prodigall: Pride I abhor'd and term'd the Beggers shield: Nor euer did base Euuie touch my heart. Yet alwayes loou'd to beare (as Solon sed,) A Turtles eye within an Aspicks head: Nor could the ratling fury of fierce warre Astonish me more then the mid-night clock, The Trumpetter to Contemplation: For Pouerty, I shake her by the hand, As welcome Lady to this wofull Land.

Mau.

How might we tread the path's to happy ends, Since foes to Learning are not Vertues friends.

Chri.

First entertaine submission in your soules To frame true concord in one vnity. Behold the faire proportion of a man, Whome heauens haue created so compleate, Yet if the arme make warre against the head, Or that the heart rebell against the braine, This elementall bodie (thus compact,) Is but a scattred Chaos of reuenge; Your lawes appoincted to be positiue, (By Warre confounded) must be brought againe. For law is that which Loue and Peace maintaine.

Phili.

Thou Sonne of knowledge (richer then a man) We censure thy aduise as oracles.

Chri.

Follow, and Ile instruct you what I can:

Ma▪

We followed beasts before but now a man.

Exeunt.

Enter Fourcher; Vourcher, Lyon-rash, and Velure.

Four.

O Heauens powring high-pryzd sauours forth, Like to the honny dew that sweetes the Leaues, Once send vs Peace, that fairest Palme-crownd Queene.

Vour.

Ruine and Warre the precedents of Wrath, That crop't the fifty Sonnes of Hecuba, Haue rid their circuite through this fertile soyle, And quite transform'd it to a Wildernesse.

Vel.

Come let vs sit and mourne with sad laments, The heauy burdens of our discontents.

Lyon.

To waile our want let speaking slacke the paine, For words of griefe diuide the griefe in twaine.

Vel.

Our Shops (sometimes) were stuft with cloath of gold, But Warre hath emptied them, and Spyders build Their Cob-web-tents; weauing foule dusty lawne For poore woe-working Pouerty to weare.

Four.

O woes! behold our poore distressed wiues.

Enter Perpetuana and Filissella.

Perp.

From Pouerty to Famine, worse and worse

Fili.

The scurge of Pride, and Heauens detested curse.

Perp.

Wher's that excesse consum'd vpon the back?

Fili.

Suncke downe to Hell whil'st hunger feeles the lacke.

Perp.

Who now will pity vs, that scorn'd the poore?

Fili.

Pitty is past when Peace is out of doore.

Perp.

Drincke thou my teares and I will drinke vp thine, For nought but teares is miseries salt wine.

Fill.

We that haue scornd to dresse our meate our selues, Now would be glad if we had meate to dresse.

Perp.

And if Lament were remedie for want Their cates weare course that in Lament were scant,

Lyon.

Comfort sweete wife, ill lasts not alwaies so: And good (some-times) makes end of lingring woe.

Perp.

My griefe is thine,

Lyon.

And mine is most for thee.

Per.

My care is thine.

Lyon.

Be mine for thee and me.

Exeunt.

Enter country seruing-men.

1.

Faith Pouerty hath paid my wife on the petticoate.

2.

From these deuowring woormes, eate men aliue, And swollow vp whole Mannours at a bit The whil'st our hungry bodies die for lacke, And honest husbandy must goe to wracke.

1.

Pray sirs for Peace, that best may please vs all. From citties Pryde the country takes his fall.

2.

Tis Time, for plough-shares (now) are turned to bills, Carte-horses prest to cary Caualliers, True laboring seruants counted Souldiours slaues,

1.

Though Famine hungerstarue yet heauen saues.

Omn.

Then let vs pray to heauen all for Peace.

For thence comes comfort, plenty and increase.

Exeunt.

Enter Posthast with his Hostesse.

Host.

Post me no posting; pay me the shot, Yow liue by wit; but we must liue by mony.

Post.

Goody sharpe, be not so short, Ile pay you, when I giue you mony.

Host.

When you giue mee mony? goe to, Ile beare no Longer.

Post.

What and be vnder fifty?

Enter Cunstable.

Host.

Maister Cunstable hoe, these Players wil not pay their shot.

Post.

Faith sir, Warre hath so pinch't vs we must pawne.

Cun,

Alasse poore Players: hostis; what comes it to?

Host.

The Sharers dinners six pence a peece, the hirelings pence.

Post.

What sixepence an Egge, and two and two at an Egge.

Host.

Faith Famine affords no more.

Post.

Fellowes bring out the hamper choose somew-what out o'th Stocke.

Enter the Players.

What will you haue this cloke to pawne, what thinke you it's worth?

Host.

Some fower groats,

Oun.

The pox is in this age, heer's a braue world fellowes.

Post.

You may see what it is to laugh at the Audience.

Host.

Well it shall serue for a paune.

Exit Hostesse.

Cun.

Soft sirs I must talke with you for taxe mony, To releeue the poore, not a penny paid yet,

Post.

Sir, (at few words we shar'd but xv. pence last weeke.

Cun▪

But tis well knowne, that each maintaines his Puncke, And tauernes it with druncken suppers still.

Omn.

Alasse they are our wiues.

Cun.

Yee are not all married.

Post.

Who are not are glad to bring such as they can get.

Bels.

Before Ile giue such a president, Ile leaue playing.

Gul.

Faith and I too: Ile rather fal to worke.

Post.

Fall to worke after playing vnpossible.

Cun.

Sirs, will you here the truth.

Gut.

Sir you may choose,

Cun.

But you must all choose Whither youle be shipt and set a shore no man Knowes where as the Romaines did: Or play for the maintenance of the poore; And your selues kept like honest men.

Omn.

We choose neither.

Post,

Sauing your sad tale, will you take a pot or two.

Cun.

The dearth of Malt denies it

Clou.

Its a hard world if the Constable dispise it.

Guls,

Must we be shipt in earnest, Or doe you make vs Sheepe in ieast,

Cun.

Ecce signum.

Post.

Cunstable doe you know what you doe.

Cun.

I, banish idle fellowes out o'th'land,

Bels.

Why Cunstable doe you know what you see.

Cun,

I, I see a Madge howlet: and she sees not see.

Post.

Know you our credit with Sir Oliuer?

Cun.

True, but your boasting hath crakt it, (I feare.)

Gut.

Faith I must fall to making fidle strings againe.

Bles.

And I to curle horse tailes to make fooles beards.

Post.

Ile boldy fall to ballading againe.

Cunst.

Sirs, those prouisoes will not serue the turne, What hoe, Saylers, ship away these players.

Enter Saylers.

Sayl.

The winde blowes faire, and we are ready sir.

Cunst.

No matter where it blowes; away with them.

Post.

It's an ill winde blowes a man thus cleane out of ballading.

Exeunt.

Enter Peace, Bacchus, Ceres, and Plenty, bearing the Cornu copiae, at the one doore: At the other Pouerty, with her atten∣dants; who beholding Peace approach, vanish.

Peace.

Bondage, wan Sicknesse, and bare Pouerty, Vanish like clowds before the Easterne light, Now Peace appeares, hence all to endlesse night, And you deiected spirits, crusht with want, Mount vp your mindes vnto the fairest hope, Neede hath nurst Peace within your Horoscope, The warme reflexion of whose cheering beames, Makes you as rich as bright Pactolus streames. Shine plentuous Bountie, crowne the naked world, With odourous wreaths of thy aboundant sweetes, Laborious Artizanes, now bustle vp, Your drouping spirits with alacritie. Peace giues your toyling sweat a due regard, Crowning your labour with a rich reward. Ceres be lauish, Bacchus swell to brimme, And all to Peace sing a propitious himne,

They begin to sing, and presently cease.

A Song,

With Lawrell shall our Altars flame, In honour of thy sacred name.

Enter Astraea vshered by Fame, supported by Fortitude and Religion, followed by Virginity and Artes.

Peace.

No more: Be dumbe in husht obseruance at this sight, Heere comes Amazements obiect, wonders height, Peaces patronesse, Heauens miracle, Vertues honour, Earths admiration, Chastities Crowne, Iustice perfection, Whose traine is vnpolute Virginity, Whose Diadem of bright immortall Fame, Is burnisht with vnvalued respect, Ineffable wonder of remotest lands; Still sway thy gratious Scepter, I resigne; What I am is by Thee, my selfe am thine,

Q. Eliza.

Astraea mounts vnto the Throne. Mount Emperesse, whose praise for Peace shall mount, Whose glory, which thy solid vertues wonne, Shall honour Europe whil'st there shines a Sunne. Crown'd with Heauens inward beauties, worlds applause, Thron'd and reposd within the louing feare Of thy adoring Subiects: liue as long As Time hath life, and Fame a worthy tongue. Still breath our glory, the worlds Empresse, Religions Gardian, Peaces patronesse; Now flourish Arts, the Queene of Peace doth raigne, Vertue triumph, now shee doth sway the stemme, Who giues to Vertue, honours Diadem. All sing Paeans to her sacred worth, Which none but Angels tongues can warble forth: Yet sing, for though we cannot light the Sunne, Yet vtmost might hath kinde acceptance wonne.

Song.

Religion, Arts, and Merchandise, triumph, triumph: Astraea rules, whose gracious eyes, triumph, triumph. O're Vices conquest, whose desires, triumph, triumph: Whose all to chiefest good aspires, then all triumph.

In the end of the Play.

• Plenty,
• Pride,
• Enuy,
• Warre, and
• Pouerty.

To enter and resigne their seue∣rall Scepters to Peace, sitting in Maiestie.

FINIS.