The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act V. (Book 5)

Scene I.

LA-FOOLE, CLERIMONT, DAW, MAVIS.

WHere had you our swords, master CLERIMONT?

CLE.

Why, DAVPHINE tooke 'hem from the mad-man.

LA-F.

And he tooke 'hem from our boyes, I warrant you?

CLE.

Very like, sir.

LA-F.

Thanke you, good master CLERIMONT. Sir IOHN DAW, and I are both beholden to you.

CLE.

Would I knew how to make you so, gentlemen.

DAW.

Sir AMOROVS, and I are your seruants, sir.

MAV.

Gentlemen, haue any of you a pen-and-inke. I would faine write out a riddle in Italian, for sir DAVPHINE, to translate.

CLE.

Not I, in troth lady, I am no scriuener.

DAW.

I can furnish you, I thinke, lady.

CLE.

He has it in the haft of a knife, I beleeue!

LA-F.

No, he has his boxe of instruments.

CLE.

Like a surgean!

LA-F.

For the mathematiques: his squire, his compasses, his brasse pens, and black-lead, to draw maps of euery place, and person, where he comes.

CLE.

How, maps of persons!

LA-F.

Yes, sir, of NOMENTACK, when he was here, and of the Prince of Moldauia, and of his mistris, mistris EPICoeNE.

CLE.

Away! he has not found out her latitude, I hope.

LA-F.

You are a pleasant gentleman, sir.

CLE.

Faith, now we are in priuate, let's wanton it a little, and talke waggishly. Sir IOHN, I am telling sir AMOROVS here, that you two go∣uerne the ladies, where e're you come, you carry the feminine gender a∣fore you.

DAW.

They shall rather carry vs afore them, if they will, sir.

CLE.

Nay, I beleeue that they doe, withall—But, that you are the prime-men in their affections, and direct all their actions—

DAW.

Not I: sir AMOROVS is.

LA-F.

I protest, sir IOHN is.

DAW.

As I hope to rise i'the state, sir AMOROVS, you ha' the person.

LA-F.

Sir IOHN, you ha' the person, and the discourse too.

DAW.

Not I, sir. I haue no discourse—and then you haue actiuitie beside.

LA-F.

I protest, sir IOHN, you come as high from Tripoly, as I doe e∣uery whit: and lift as many ioyn'd stooles, and leape ouer 'hem, if you would vse it—

CLE.

Well, agree on't together knights; for betweene you, you di∣uide the kingdome, or common-wealth of ladies affections: I see it, and can perceiue a little how they obserue you, and feare you, indeed. You could tell strange stories, my masters, if you would, I know.

DAW.

Faith, we haue seene somewhat, sir.

LA-F.

That we haue—vellet petti-coates, & wrought smocks, or so.

DAW.

I, and—

CLE.

Nay, out with it, sir IOHN: doe not enuie your friend the plea∣sure of hearing, when you haue had the delight of tasting.

DAW.

Why—a—doe you speake, sir AMOROVS.

LA-F.

No, doe you, sir IOHN DAW.

DAW.

I'faith, you shall.

LA-F.

I'faith, you shall.

DAW.

Why, we haue beene—

LA-F.

In the great bed at Ware together in our time. On, sir IOHN.

DAW.

Nay, doe you, sir AMOROVS.

CRE.

And these ladies with you, Knights?

LA-F.

No, excuse vs, sir.

DAW.

We must not wound reputation.

LA-F.

No matter—they were these, or others. Our bath cost vs fif∣teene pound, when we came home.

CLE.

Doe you heare, sir IOHN, you shall tell me but one thing true∣ly, as you loue me.

DAW.

If I can, I will, sir.

CLE.

You lay in the same house with the bride, here?

DAW.

Yes, and conuerst with her hourely, sir.

CLE.

And what humour is shee of? is shee comming, and open, free?

DAW.

O, exceeding open, sir. I was her seruant, and sir AMOROUS was to be.

CLE.

Come, you haue both had fauours from her? I know, and haue heard so much.

DAW.

O, no, sir.

LA-F.

You shall excuse vs, sir: we must not wound reputation.

CLE.

Tut, shee is married, now; and you cannot hurt her with any report, and therefore speake plainely: how many times, yfaith? which of you lead first? Ha?

LA-F.

Sir IOHN had her mayden-head, indeed.

DAW.

O, it pleases him to say so, sir, but sir AMOROVS knowes what's what, as well.

CLE.

Do'st thou yfaith, AMOROVS?

LA-F.

In a manner, sir.

CLE.

Why, I commend you lads. Little knowes Don Bride-groome of this. Nor shall he, for me.

DAW.

Hang him, mad oxe.

CLE.

SPeake softly: here comes his nephew, with the lady HAVGH∣TY. Hee'll get the ladies from you, sirs, if you looke not to him in time.

LA-F.

Why, if he doe, wee'll fetch 'hem home againe, I warrant you.

Act V. Scene II.

HAVGHTY, DAVPHINE, CENTAVRE, MA∣VIS, CLERIMONT.

I Assure you, sir DAVPHINE, it is the price and estimation of your ver∣tue onely, that hath embarqu'd me to this aduenture, and I could not but make out to tell you so; nor can I repent me of the act, since it is alwayes an argument of some vertue in our selues, that we loue and affect it so in others.

DAV.

Your ladiship sets too high a price, on my weakenesse.

HAV.

Sir, I can distinguish gemmes from peebles—

DAV.

(Are you so skilfull in stones?)

HAV.

And, howsoeuer I may suffer in such a iudgement as yours, by admitting equality of ranke, or societie, with CENTAVRE, or MAVIS—

DAV.

You doe not, madame, I perceiue they are your mere foiles.

HAV.

Then are you a friend to truth, sir. It makes mee loue you the more. It is not the outward, but the inward man that I affect. They are not apprehensiue of an eminent perfection, but loue flat, and dully.

CEN.

Where are you, my lady HAVGHTY?

HAV.

I come presently, CENTAVRE. My chamber, sir, my Page shall show you; and TRVSTY, my woman, shall be euer awake for you: you need not feare to communicate anything with her, for shee is a FIDELIA. I pray you weare this iewell for my sake, sir DAVPHINE. Where's MAVIS, CENTAVRE?

CEN.

Within, madame, a writing. I'll follow you presently. I'll but speake a word with sir DAVPHINE.

DAVP.

With me, madame?

CEN.

Good sir DAVPHINE, doe not trust HAVGHTY, nor make any credit to her, what euer you doe besides. Sir DAVPHINE, I giue you this caution, shee is a perfect courtier, and loues no body, but for her vses: and for her vses, shee loues all. Besides, her physitians giue her out to be none o' the clearest, whether she pay 'hem or no, heau'n knowes: and she's aboue fiftie too, and pargets! See her in a fore-noone. Here comes MA∣VIS, a worse face then shee! you would not like this, by candle-light. If you'll come to my chamber one o' these mornings early, or late in an eue∣ning, I'll tell you more. Where's HAVGHTY, MAVIS?

MAV.

Within, CENTAVRE.

CEN.

What ha' you, there?

MAV.

An Italian riddle for sir DAVPHINE, (you shall not see it yfaith, CENTAVRE.) Good sir DAVPHINE, solue it for mee. I'll call for it anon.

CLE.

How now, DAVPHINE? how do'st thou quit thy selfe of these females?

DAVP.

'S light, they haunt me like fayries, and giue me iewells here, I cannot be rid of 'hem.

CLE.

O, you must not tell, though.

DAVP.

Masse, I forgot that: I was neuer so assaulted. One loues for vertue, and bribes me with this. Another loues me with caution, and so would possesse me. A third brings me a riddle here, and all are iealous: and raile each at other.

CLE.

A riddle? pray' le' me see 't? Sir DAVPHINE, I chose this way of intimation for priuacie. The ladies here, I know, haue both hope, and purpose, to make a collegiate and seruant of you. If I might be so honor'd, as to appeare at any end of so noble a worke, I would enter into a fame of taking physique to¦morrow, and continue it foure or fiue dayes, or longer, for your visitation. MA∣VIS. By my faith, a subtle one! Call you this a reiddle? What's their plaine dealing, trow?

DAVP.

We lack TRVE-WIT, to tell vs that.

CLE.

We lack him for somewhat else too: his Knights reformados are wound vp as high, and insolent, as euer they were.

DAVP.

You iest.

CLE.

No drunkards, either with wine or vanitie, euer confess'd such stories of themselues. I would not giue a flies leg, in ballance against all the womens reputations here, if they could bee but thought to speake

truth: and, for the bride, they haue made their affidauit against her di∣rectly—

DAVP.

What, that they haue lyen with her?

CLE.

Yes, and tell times, and circumstances, with the cause why, and the place where. I had almost brought 'hem to affirme that they had done it, to day.

DAVP.

Not both of 'hem.

CLE.

Yes faith: with a sooth or two more I had effected it. They would ha' set it downe vnder their hands.

DAVP.

Why, they will be our sport, I see, still! whether we will, or no.

Act V. Scene III.

TRVE-WIT, MOROSE, OTTER, CVT∣BERD, CLERIMONT, DAVPHINE.

O, Are you here? Come DAVPHINE. Goe, call your vncle pre∣sently. I haue fitted my Diuine, & my Canonist, died their beards and all: the knaues doe not know themselues they are so exalted, and alter'd. Preferment changes any man. Thou shalt keepe one dore, and I another, and then CLERIMONT in the midst, that he may haue no meanes of escape from their cauilling, when they grow hot once. And then the women (as I haue giuen the bride her instructions) to breake in vpon him, i' the l'enuoy. O, 'twill be full and twanging! Away, fetch him. Come, master Doctor, and master Parson, looke to your parts now, and discharge 'hem brauely: you are well set forth, performe it as well. If you chance to be out, doe not confesse it with standing still, or humming, or gaping one at another: but goe on, and talke alowd, and eagerly, vse vehe∣ment action, and onely remember your termes, and you are safe. Let the matter goe where it will: you haue many will doe so. But at first, bee very solemne, and graue like your garments, though you loose your selues after, and skip out like a brace of iugglers on a table. Here hee comes! set your faces, and looke superciliously, while I present you.

MOR.

Are these the two learned men?

TRV.

Yes, sir, please you salute 'hem?

MOR.

Salute 'hem? I had rather doe any thing, then weare out time so vnfruitfully, sir. I wonder, how these common formes, as god saue you, and you are well-come, are come to be a habit in our liues! or, I am glad to see you! when I cannot see, what the profit can bee of these wordes, so long as it is no whit better with him, whose affaires are sad, & grieuous, that he heares this salutation.

TRV.

'Tis true, sir, wee'll goe to the matter then. Gentlemen, master Doctor, and master Pastor, I haue acquainted you sufficiently with the busines, for which you are come hether. And you are not now to enforme

your selues in the state of the question, I know. This is the gentleman, who expects your resolution, and therefore, when you please, beginne.

OTT.

Please you, master Doctor.

CVT.

Please you, good master Parson.

OTT.

I would heare the Canon-law speake first.

CVT.

It must giue place to positiue Diuinitie, sir.

MOR.

Nay, good gentlemen, doe not throw me into circumstances. Let your comforts arriue quickly at me, those that are. Be swift in affoor∣ding me my peace, if so I shall hope any. I loue not your disputations, or your court-tumults. And that it be not strange to you, I will tell you. My father, in my education, was wont to aduise mee, that I should alwayes collect, and contayne my mind, not suffring it to ••low loosely; that I should looke to what things were necessary to the carriage of my life, and what not: embracing the one and eschewing the other. In short, that I should endeare my selfe to rest, and auoid turmoile: which now is growne to be another nature to me. So that I come not to your publike pleadings, or your places of noise; not that I neglect those things, that make for the dignitie of the common-wealth: but for the meere auoiding of clamors, & impertinencies of Orators, that know not how to be silent. And for the cause of noise, am I now a sutor to you. You doe not know in what a mi∣serie I haue beene exercis'd this day, what a torrent of euill! My very house turnes round with the tumult! I dwell in a wind-mill! The perpe∣tuall motion is here, and not at Eltham.

TRV.

Well, good master Doctor, will you breake the ice? master Par∣son will wade after.

CVT.

Sir, though vnworthy, and the weaker, I will presume.

OTT.

'Tis no presumption, domine Doctor.

MOR.

Yet againe!

CVT.

Your question is, for how many causes a man may haue diuor∣tium legitimum, a lawfull diuorce. First, you must vnderstand the nature of the word diuorce, à diuertendo—

MOR.

No excursions vpon words, good Doctor, to the question briefly.

CVT.

I answere then, the Canon-law affords diuorce but in few cases, and the principall is in the common case, the adulterous case. But there are duodecim impedimenta, twelue impediments (as we call 'hem) all which doe not dirimere contractum, but irritum reddere matrimonium, as wee say in the Canon-law, not take away the bond, but cause a nullitie therein.

MOR.

I vnderstood you, before: good sir, auoid your impertinencie of translation.

OTT.

He cannot open this too much, sir, by your fauour.

MOR.

Yet more!

TRV.

O, you must giue the learned men leaue, sir. To your impedi∣ments, master Doctor.

CVT.

The first is impedimentum erroris.

OTT.

Of which there are seuerall species.

CVT.

I, as error personae.

OTT.

If you contract your selfe to one person, thinking her another.

CVT.

The, error fortunae.

OTT.

If shee be a begger, and you thought her rich.

CVT.

Then, error qualitatis.

OTT.

If shee proue stubborne, or head-strong, that you thought o∣bedient.

MOR.

How? is that, sir a lawfull impediment? One at once, I pray you gentlemen.

OTT.

I, ante copulam, but not post copulam, sir.

CVT.

M^r. Parson saies right. Nec post nuptiarum benedictionem. It doth indeed but irrita reddere sponsalia, annull the contract: after marriage it is of no onstancy.

TRV.

Alas, sir, what a hope are we fall'n from, by this time!

CVT.

The next is conditio: if you thought her free borne, and shee proue a bond-woman, there is impediment of estate and condition.

OTT.

I, but M^r. Doctor, those seruitudes are sublatae, now, among vs christians.

CVT.

By your fauour, master Parson—

OTT.

You shall giue me leaue, master Doctor.

MOR.

Nay, gentlemen, quarrell not in that question; it concernes not my case: passe to the third.

CVT.

Well then, the third is votum. If either partie haue made a vow of chastitie. But that practice, as master Parson said of the other, is taken away among vs, thanks be to discipline. The fourth is cognatio: if the persons be of kinne, within the degrees.

OTT.

I: doe you know, what the degrees are, sir?

MOR.

No, nor I care not, sir: they offer me no comfort in the question, I am sure.

CVT.

But, there is a branch of this impediment may, which is cogni∣tio spiritualis. If you were her god-father, sir, then the marriage is in∣cestuous.

OTT.

That comment is absurd, and superstitious, master Doctor. I cannot endure it. Are we not all brothers and sisters, and as much a kinne in that, as god-fathers, and god-daughters?

MOR.

O me! to end the controuersie, I neuer was a god-father, I ne∣uer was a god-father in my life, sir. Passe to the next.

CVT.

The fift is crimen adulterij: the knowne case. The sixt, cultus disparitas, difference of religion: haue you euer examin'd her, what religion shee is of?

MOR.

No, I would rather shee were of none, then bee put to the trouble of it!

OTT.

You may haue it done for you, sir.

MOR.

By no meanes, good sir, on, to the rest: shall you euer come to an end, thinke you?

TRV.

Yes, hee has done halfe, sir. (On, to the rest) be patient, and expect, sir.

CVT.

The seuenth is, vis: if it were vpon compulsion, or force.

MOR.

O no, it was too voluntarie, mine: too voluntarie.

CVT.

The eight is, or do: if euer shee haue taken holy orders.

OTT.

That's superstitious, too.

MOR.

No matter, master Parson: would shee would goe into a nun∣nerie yet.

CVT.

The ninth is, ligamen: if you were bound, sir, to any other before.

MOR.

I thrust my selfe too soone into these fetters.

CVT.

The tenth is, publica honestas: which is inchoata quaedam affinitas.

OTT.

I, or affinitas orta ex sponsalibus: and is but leue impedimentum.

MOR.

I feele no aire of comfort blowing to me, in all this.

CVT.

The eleuenth is, affitas ex fornicatione.

OTT.

Which is no lesse vera affinitas, then the other, master Doctor.

CVT.

True, quae oritur ex legitimo matrimonio.

OTT.

You say right, venerable Doctor. And, nascitur ex eo, quod per coniugium duae personae efficiuntur vna caro—

MOR.

Hey-day, now they beginne.

CVT.

I conceiue you, master Parson. Ita per fornicationem aeque est verus pater, qui sic generat—

OTT.

Et vere filius qui sic generatur—

MOR.

What's all this to me?

CLE.

Now it growes warme.

CVT.

The twelfth, and last is, si forte coire nequibis.

OTT.

I, that is impedimentum grauissimum. It doth vtterly annull, and annihilate, that. If you haue manifestam frigiditatem, you are well, sir.

TRV.

Why, there is comfort come at length, sir. Confesse your selfe but a man vnable, and shee will sue to be diuorc'd first.

OTT.

I, or if there be morbus perpetuus, & insanabilis, as Paralisis, Ele∣phantiasis, or so—

DAV.

O, but frigiditas is the fairer way, gentlemen.

OTT.

You say troth, sir, and as it is in the canon, master Doctor.

CVT.

I conceiue you, sir.

CLE.

Before he speakes.

OTT.

That a boy, or child vnder yeeres, is not fit for marriage, because he cannot reddere debitum. So your omnipotentes—

TRV.

Your impotentes, you whorson Lobster.

OTT.

Your impotentes, I should sa,y, are minime apti ad contrahenda matrimonium.

TRV.

Matrimonium? Wee shall haue most vn-matrimoniall latin, with you: matrimonia, and be hang'd.

DAV.

You put 'hem out, man.

CVT.

But then there will arise a doubt, master Parson, in our case,

post matrimonium: that frigiditate praeditus (doe you conceiue me, sir?)

OTT.

Very well, sir.

CVT.

Who cannot vti vxore pro vxore, may habere eam pro sorore.

OTT.

Absurd, absurd, absurd, and merely apostaticall.

CVT.

You shall pardon me, master Parson, I can proue it.

OTT.

You can proue a Will, master Doctor, you can proue nothing else. Do's not the verse of your owne canon say. Haec socianda vetant co∣nubia, facta retractant—

CVT.

I grant you, but how doe they retractare, master Parson?

MOR.

(O, this was it, I fear'd.)

OTT.

In aeternum, sir.

CVT.

That's false in diuinitie, by your fauour.

OTT.

'Tis false in humanitie, to say so. Is hee not prorsus invtilis ad thorum? Can he praestare fidem datam? I would faine know.

CVT.

Yes: how if he doe conualere?

OTT.

He can not conualere, it is impossible.

TRV.

Nay, good sir, attend the learned men, they'll thinke you ne∣glect 'hem else.

CVT.

Or, if he doe simulare himselfe frigidum, odio vxoris, or so?

OTT.

I say, he is adulter manifestus, then.

DAVP.

(They dispute it very learnedly, yfaith.)

OTT.

And prostitutor vxoris, and this is positiue.

MOR.

Good sir, let me escape.

TRV.

You will not doe me that wrong, sir?

OTT.

And therefore, if he be manifeste frigidus, sir—

CVT.

I, if he be manifeste frigidus, I grant you—

OTT.

Why, that was my conclusion.

CVT.

And mine too.

TRV.

Nay, heare the conclusion, sir.

OTT.

Then, frigiditatis causa—

CVT.

Yes, causa frigiditatis—

MOR.

O, mine eares!

OTT.

Shee may haue libellum diuortij, against you.

CVT.

I, diuortij libellum shee will sure haue.

MOR.

Good eccho's, forbeare.

OTT.

If you confesse it.

CVT.

Which I would doe, sir—

MOR.

I will doe any thing—

OTT.

And cleere my selfe in foro conscientiae—

CVT.

Because you want indeed—

MOR.

Yet more?

OTT.

Exercendi potestate.

Act V. Scene IIII.

EPICOENE, MOROSE, HAVGHTY, CENTAVRE, MAVIS, M^rs. OTTER, DAW, TRVE-WIT, DAVPHINE, CLERIMONT, LA-FOOLE, OTTER, CVTBERD.

I Will not endure it any longer. Ladies, I beseech you helpe me. This is such a wrong, as neuer was offer'd to poore bride before. Vpon her marriage day, to haue her husband conspire against her, and a couple of mercinarie companions, to be brought in for formes sake, to perswade a separation! If you had bloud, or vertue in you, gentlemen, you would not suffer such eare-wigs about a husband, or scorpions, to creep between man and wife—

MOR.

O, the varietie and changes of my torment!

HAV.

Let 'hem be cudgell'd out of dores, by our groomes.

CEN.

I'll lend you my foot-man.

MAV.

Wee'll haue our men blanket 'hem i' the hall.

M^rs. OT.

As there was one, at our house, madame, for peeping in at the dore.

DAW.

Content, yfaith.

TRV.

Stay, ladies, and gentlemen, you'll heare, before you proceed?

MAV.

I'lld ha' the bride-groome blanketted, too.

CEN.

Beginne with him first.

HAV.

Yes, by my troth.

MOR.

O, mankind generation!

DAVP.

Ladies, for my sake forbeare.

HAV.

Yes, for sir DAVPHINES sake.

CEN.

He shall command vs.

LA-F.

He is as fine a gentleman of his inches, madame, as any is about the towne, and weares as good colours when he list.

TRV.

Be briefe, sir, and confesse your infirmitie, shee'll be a-fire to be quit of you, if shee but heare that nam'd once, you shall not entreat her to stay. Shee'll flie you, like one that had the marks vpon him.

MOR.

Ladies, I must craue all your pardons—

TRV.

Silence, ladies.

MOR.

For a wrong I haue done to your whole sexe, in marrying this faire, and vertuous gentlewoman—

CLE.

Heare him, good ladies.

MOR.

Being guiltie of an infirmitie, which before I confer'd with these learned men, I thought I might haue conceal'd—

TRV.

But now being better inform'd in his conscience by them, hee is to declare it, & giue satisfaction, by asking your publique forgiuenesse.

MOR.

I am no man, ladies.

ALL.

How!

MOR.

Vtterly vn-abled in nature, by reason of frigidity, to performe the duties, or any the least office of a husband.

MAV.

Now, out vpon him, prodigious creature!

CEN.

Bride-groome vncarnate.

HAV.

And would you offer it, to a young gentlewoman?

M^rs. OT.

A lady of her longings?

EPI.

Tut, a deuice, a deuice, this, it smells rankly, ladies. A mere comment of his owne.

TRV.

Why, if you suspect that, ladies, you may haue him search'd.

DAW.

As the custome is, by a iurie of physitians.

LA-F.

Yes faith, 'twill be braue.

MOR.

O me, must I vnder-goe that!

M^rs. OT.

No, let women search him, madame: we can doe it our selues.

MOR.

Out on me, worse!

EPI.

No, ladies, you shall not need, I'll take him with all his faults.

MOR.

Worst of all!

CLE.

Why, then 'tis no diuorce, Doctor, if shee consent not?

CVT.

No, if the man be frigidus, it is de parte vxoris, that wee grant libellum diuortij, in the law.

OTT.

I, it is the same in theologie.

MOR.

Worse, worse then worst!

TRV.

Nay, sir, bee not vtterly dis-heartned, wee haue yet a small re∣lique of hope left, as neere as our comfort is blowne out. CLERIMONT, produce your brace of Knights. What was that, master Parson, you told me in errore qualitatis, e'ne now? DAVPHINE, whisper the bride, that shee carry it as if shee were guiltie, and asham'd.

OTT.

Mary sir, in errore qualitatis (which master Doctor did for∣beare to vrge) if shee bee found corrupta, that is, vitiated or broken vp, that was pro virgine desponsa, espous'd for a maid—

MOR.

What then, sir?

OTT.

It doth dirimere contractum, and irritum reddere too.

TRV.

If this be true, we are happy againe, sir, once more. Here are an honorable brace of Knights, that shall affirme so much.

DAW.

Pardon vs, good master CLERIMONT.

LA-F.

You shall excuse vs, master CLERIMONT.

CLE.

Nay, you must make it good now, Knights, there is no reme∣die, I'll eate no words for you, nor no men: you know you spoke it to me?

DAW.

Is this gentleman-like, sir?

TRV.

IACK DAW, hee's worse then sir AMOROVS: fiercer a great deale. Sir AMOROVS, beware, there be ten DAWES in this CLERIMONT.

LA-F.

I'll confesse it, sir.

DAW.

Will you, sir AMOROVS? will you wound reputation?

LA-F.

I am resolu'd.

TRV.

So should you be too, IACK DAW: what should keepe you off?

DAW.

Will he? I thought he would ha' beene angrie.

CLE.

You will dispatch, Knights, it must be done, yfaith.

TRV.

Why, an' it must it shall, sir, they say. They'll ne're goe backe. Doe not tempt his patience.

DAW.

It is true indeed, sir.

LA-F.

Yes, I assure you, sir.

MOR.

What is true gentlemen? what doe you assure me?

DAW.

That we haue knowne your bride, sir —

LA-F.

In good fashion. Shee was our mistris, or so —

CLE.

Nay, you must be plaine, Knights, as you were to me.

OTT.

I, the question is, if you haue carnaliter, or no.

LA-F.

Carnaliter? what else, sir?

OTT.

It is inough: a plaine nullitie.

EPI.

I am vn-done, I am vn-done!

MOR.

O, let me worship and adore you, gentlemen!

EPI.

I am vn-done!

MOR.

Yes, to my hand, I thanke these Knights: master Parson, let me thanke you otherwise.

CEN.

And, ha' they confess'd?

MAV.

Now out vpon 'hem, informers!

TRV.

You see, what creatures you may bestow your fauours on, madames.

HAV.

I would except against 'hem as beaten Knights, wench, and not good witnesses in law.

M^rs. OT.

Poore gentlewoman, how shee takes it!

HAV.

Be comforted, MOROSE, I loue the better for't.

CEN.

So doe I, I protest.

CVT.

But gentlemen, you haue not knowne her, since matrimonium?

DAW.

Not to day, master Doctor.

LA-F.

No, sir, not to day.

CVT.

Why, then I say, for any act before, the matrimonium is good and perfect: vnlesse, the worshipfull Bride-groome did precise, before witnesse demand, if shee were virgo ante nuptias.

EPI.

No, that he did not, I assure you, master Doctor.

CVT.

If he cannot proue that, it is ratum coniugium, notwithstanding the premises. And they doe no way impedire. And this is my sentence, this I pronounce.

OTT.

I am of master Doctors resolution too, sir: if you made not that demand, ante nuptias.

MOR.

O my heart! wilt thou breake? wilt thou breake? this is worst of all worst worsts! that hell could haue deuis'd! Marry a whore! and so much noise!

DAVP.

Come, I see now plaine confederacie in this Doctor, and this

Parson, to abuse a gentleman. You studie his affliction. I pray' bee gone companions. And gentlemen, I begin to suspect you for hauing parts with 'hem. Sir, will it please you heare me?

MOR.

O, doe not talke to me, take not from mee the pleasure of dy∣ing in silence, nephew.

DAVP.

Sir, I must speake to you. I haue beene long your poore despis'd kins-man, and many a hard thought has strength'ned you against me: but now it shall appeare if either I loue you or your peace, and preferre them to all the world beside. I will not bee long or grieuous to you, sir. If I free you of this vnhappy match absolutely, and instantly after all this trouble, and almost in your despaire, now—

MOR.

(It cannot be.)

DAVP.

Sir, that you bee neuer troubled with a murmure of it more, what shall I hope for, or deserue of you?

MOR.

O, what thou wilt, nephew! thou shalt deserue mee, and haue mee.

DAVP.

Shall I haue your fauour perfect to me, and loue hereafter?

MOR.

That, and any thing beside. Make thine owne conditions. My whole estate is thine. Manage it, I will become thy Ward.

DAVP.

Nay, sir, I will not be so vn-reasonable.

EPI.

Will sir DAVPHINE be mine enemie too?

DAVP.

You know, I haue beene long a suter to you, vncle, that out of your estate, which is fifteen hundred a yeere, you would allow me but fiue hundred during life, and assure the rest vpon me after: to which I haue of∣ten, by my selfe and friends tendred you a writing to signe, which you would neuer consent, or incline too. If you please but to effect it now—

MOR.

Thou shalt haue it, nephew. I will doe it, and more.

DAVP.

If I quit you not presently? and for-euer of this cumber, you shall haue power instantly, afore all these, to reuoke your act, and I will become, whose slaue you will giue me to, for-euer.

MOR.

Where is the writing? I will seale to it, that, or to a blanke, and write thine owne conditions.

EPI.

O me, most vnfortunate wretched gentlewoman!

HAV.

Will sir DAVPHINE doe this?

EPI.

Good sir, haue some compassion on me.

MOR.

O, my nephew knowes you belike: away crocodile.

CEN.

He do's it not sure, without good ground.

DAVP.

Here, sir.

MOR.

Come, nephew: giue me the pen. I will subscribe to any thing, and seale to what thou wilt, for my deliuerance. Thou art my restorer. Here, I deliuer it thee as my deed. If there bee a word in it lacking, or writ with false orthographie, I protest before—I will not take the aduantage.

DAVP.

He takes of Epi∣••o••nes perruke.

Then here is your release, sir; you haue married a boy: a gen∣tlemans son, that I haue brought vp this halfe yeere, at my great charges, and for this composition, which I haue now made with you. What say

you, master Doctor? this is iustum impedimentum, I hope, error personae?

OTT.

Yes sir, in primo gradu.

CVT.

In primo gradu.

DAVP.

He pulls of their beardes, and disguise.

I thanke you, good Doctor CVTBERD, and Parson OTTER. You are beholden to 'hem, sir, that haue taken this paines for you: and my friend, master TRVE-WIT, who enabled 'hem for the businesse. Now you may goe in and rest, be as priuate as you will, sir. I'll not trouble you, till you trouble me with your funerall, which I care not how soone it come. CVTBERD, I'll make your lease good. Thanke mee not, but with your leg, CVTBERD. And TOM OTTER, your Princesse shall be reconcil'd to you. How now, gentlemen! doe you looke at me?

CLE.

A boy.

DAVP.

Yes, mistris EPICOENE.

TRV.

Well, DAVPHINE, you haue lurch'd your friends of the better halfe of the garland, by concealing this part of the plot! but much good doe it thee, thou deseru'st it, lad. And CLERIMONT, for thy vnexpected bringing in these two to confession, weare my part of it freely. Nay, sir DAW, and sir LA-FOOLE, you see the gentlewoman that has done you the fauours! we are all thankefull to you, and so should the woman-kind here, specially for lying on her, though not with her! You meant so, I am sure? But, that we haue stuck it vpon you to day, in your own imagin'd persons, and so lately; this Amazon, the champion of the sexe, should beate you now thriftily, for the common slanders, which ladies receiue from such cuckowes, as you are. You are they, that when no merit or fortune can make you hope to enioy their bodies, will yet lie with their reputations, and make their fame suffer. Away you common moths of these, and all ladies honors. Goe, trauaile to make legs and faces, and come home with some new matter to be laught at: you deserue to liue in an aire as corrup∣ted, as that wherewith you feed rumor. Madames, you are mute, vpon this new metamorphosis! but here stands shee, that has vindicated your fames. Take heed of such insectae hereafter. And let it not trouble you that you haue discouer'd any mysteries to this yong gentleman. He is (a'most) of yeeres, & will make a good visitant within this twelue-month. In the meane time, wee'll all vndertake for his secrecie, that can speake so well of his silence. Spectators, if you like this comoedie, rise cheerefully, and now MOROSE is gone in, clap your hands. It may be, that noyse will cure him, at least please him.

THE END.

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