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. 2. Scaen. 6.

Capt. Blade, Widow, Tabytha.
Wid.

How do you? how is't, Sir?

Bla.

Cut off i'the flower o' my age, wi∣dow.

Wid.

Not so, Sir, you are old, neighbour, God he knows.

Bla.

I' the very lower, i'faith. That damn'd quacksalver.

Tab.

He look'd like a rogue; a man might know him for a rogue, by his very eyes. Take comfort, Sir; ye know we must all die either sooner or later. Our life is compared to a flower; and a flower is sub∣ject to uncertainty, as M. Knockdown ob∣serves.

Bla.

O the torture of such a tongue! Would I were dead already.

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Wid.

Alas, good man! his tongue, I warrant ye, is hot: look how he raves, daughter! I have heard, indeed, that many rave when they are poison'd. Think o' your sins, Sir.

Bla.

I prithee molest me not; there's none of 'um worth thinking of. I'm hotter then a dozen of Fevers: give me a cup of Sack there: Shall I die thirsty?

Wid.

By no means, M. Blade. Fellow, take heed what ye give him: he must ha' none; it breeds inflammations.

Bla.

I'll never repent without a cup of Sack. Do, do, chuse whether you'll ha'me sav'd or no.

Wid.

For his souls sake then, I'll drink to him in a cup of Sack

Drinks.

Bla

To my good journey widow. Sir∣rah, fill me a brimmer. Here, Tabytha.

Drinks.