The guardian, a comedie acted before Prince Charls, His Highness at Trinity-Colledg in Cambridge, upon the twelfth of March, 1641
Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.

Act. 1. Scaen. 4.

Blade, Cutter, Dogrel, Lucia.
Bla.

When she has seen you both, one void the room, and so wooe by tuns.

Dogrel.

Ill go out fist, and meditate up∣on my Ode.

Bla.

Welcome, dear neece; I sent for you to entertain these Gentlemen my friends: and heark you neece, make much of them; they are men of worth and credit at the Court, though they go so plain; hat's their humour onely: And heark you, neece, they both love you; you cannot chuse amiss. I ha' some business—Your servant, Gen∣tlemen.

Luc.

Not chuse amiss? indeed I must do, Uncle, if I should chuse again. Y'are welcom, Gentlemen.

Cutt.

I thank you, fairest Lady: I am a Souldier, Lady, and cannot complement; but I ha' travell'd over all the world, Ger∣many, Morocco, Swethland, Persia, France, Hungary, Caleput, Peru.

Dog.

'Slid▪ ho he shuffles all the Coun∣tries together like lots in a hat!

Cut

Yet I never saw before so fair a La∣dy. I cannot complement i' faith.

Luc.
Y'have taken a long journey, Sir 'twere best
To rest your self a little: Will you sit?
Will you, Sir, take a seat too?
Dog.

'Slife I can't say my Ode now. I'll wait upon you presently.

Exit.

Cutt.

Fair Lady—(This 'tis to converse with none but whores: I know not what to say to her.)

You are the onely mistress of my thoughts.

My service to you, Lady.

Drinks to her.

Luc.

To me, Sir, do you speak, or to the wine?

Cutt.

To you, by Mars. Can you love me, Beauty? I'm sure your uncle prefers no man under the cope—

Luc.
Soft, Sir, d'ye use to take in Towns so soon?
My uncle gave an equal commendation
To both of you.
Cutt.

What? to that mole-catcher i'th' old Serge? he brought him in for humour, to make you sport. Ill tell you what he is.

Luc.

Pray do, Sir.

Cutt.

The very embleme of poverty and poor poetry: the feet are worse patcht of his Rhymes, then of his Stockings: if one line forget it self, and run out beyond his el∣bow, while the next keeps at home (like him) and dares not shew his head; he calls that an Ode. Your uncle and I maintain him onely for sport. I'll tell you how I found him; marry walking in Moor-fields cross arm'd: he could not pluck his hat over his eyes, there were so many holes in it: he had not so much linen about him as would make a cuff for a Bartlemew-fayr-baby. Marry the worst I like in him is, he will needs some∣time, in way of gratitude, present me with a paper of Verses. Here comes the vermin.