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. 4. Scaen. 3.

Cutter, Puny, Dogrel, Blade.
Bla.

The story says my neece is run away. The story is not bad. Now will I get the widow, turn off my old rascally companions, and live like an Emperour.

Cut.

He says he will live like an Empe∣rour; ha, ha, ha, brave Captain.

Pun

Invincible Captain Priam.

Omn.

Hei brave Captain!

Bla

What do you mean, Gentlemen? Are ye broke loose from Bedlam? Ha' you no other place to play your tricks in, but at my door? If you come here as Mummers, much may be done; haply you may have twelve-pence: or else depart; depart, if you be wise.

Omn.

Why how now, Captain!

Bla.

If you be not gone immediately, I'll ha' my men switch you further off—Here are saucy knaves indeed with all my heart—

Offers to go out.
Cut.

By this light the Captain's drunk without us.

Pun.

Prethee, Captain, thou art as hu∣morous as a bell-rope. Dost thou know me, man? I'm M. Puny.

Blade.

Y' are a fool, an addle egge: there's nothing else but cobwebs i' your Page  [unnumbered] head: The height of all thy knowledge is to find out the quarter day against thy rents come in, and thou couldst not finde out that, if 'twere not marke'd i'the Almanack with red letters. Yet you forsooth, because you see some Gentlemen and Poets of late, a little extravagant sometimes in their simi∣litudes; because they make a pretty kinde of sound to those that mark 'um not; make that your way of wit, and never speak with∣out comparisons. But never were compa∣risons so odious as thine are. And these two Rabbit-suckers, for a quart of wine extol thee, and cry good when thou speakest so.

Pun.

The Captains raging mad like a Baker when his oven is over heated.

Bla.

And that was one of um—

Cut.

Come leave your humors, hang you, confound you, pox take you, Captain, we come to drink here.

Bla.

Mine's no blind Ale-house, where you may roar and swagger with half a pipe of Tobacco in your mouth.

Cut.

Do you know me, Captain?

Bla.

I would I never had. Thou art one that sayest thou hast seen the wars, but thou liest basely; for if thou ever wast in a battle, i'm sure thou winkest there. Thou art one that liv'st like a Raven by provi∣dence and rapine: one that if thou shouldst chance to go to bed sober, thou wouldst put it down in thy Almanack for an unlucky day; sleep is not death's image with thee, unless thou beest dead-drunk.

Dog.

He dares not abuse me thus.

Cut.

Is't even so, Captain? Has your money exalted you?

Bla

No, it has humbled me, and made me know my self and you, whom I shall study to forget hereafter.

Dog.

Come, Captain, shall you and I drink hand to hand?

Bla.

Oh, you're his Lansprizado, Sirrah, Trundle.

Dog.

Let not thy wrath swell like the A∣drian Sea.

Bla.

Thou that troublest thy self to be a fool; I will so beat thee, Trundle, that thou shalt hobble like one of thy own Rhyms. Therefore, if ever thou shewest that Poetical face of thine within my doors a∣gain, Ile use thee worse then thou didst me, when thou mad'st an Ode in commendation of me.

Dog.

Then break thine oaten reed—

Bla.

Fare ye well Gentlemen. I shall see thee Cutter a brave Tapster shortly; it must be so i'faith, Cutter; thou must like Bar∣dolph i'the play, the spiggot weild. Dogrel shall make and sell smal Pamphlets i'the play∣house, or else Tobacco, or else snuffe Can∣dles. As for Puny, his means will serve him to be cheated of these five or six yeers.

Cut.

'Tis very well the times are so al∣ter'd.

Bla.

Ye cannot want a living Gentlemen, as long as there are Whores, Bowling-allies, or Ordinaries; especially such able men as you are. There will be wars too shortly; never quake, Cutter; here's Dogrel, when his want has spun him out a little thinner, will serve you for a pike.

Cut.

'Tis very well: pray God your mirth last, Captain.

Bla.

When you're grown old, and your fingers then only nimble with the palsie, I'll provide an Hospital for you—Sedes ubi fata quietas — Fare ye well, Gallants; and pray be merry: Fare ye well heartily.

Exit.
Cut.

Poverty, the pox, an ill wife, and the Devil go with thee, Captain.

Pun.

I vexed him, when I put that jest up∣on him, like a Baker when his oven's over∣heated.

Dog.

If I don't compose a Satyre shall make him hang himself, may I never write verse more.

Cut.

I would beat him like a Buck, but I shall be bound to the peace for't, and be affronted afterward by every one.

Dog.

No, no, no—let me see—Besides my Satyre I have another way—let me see—His brother traffickt at Guiny.

Cut.

Yes, but the Merchants there report him dead.

Dog.

The more knaves they: he lives, and I am he.

Cut.

How? How, Dogrel, thou the Mer∣chant man?

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Dog.

By this light, I either am, or will be.

Cut.

How, Dogrel! Though thou be as thin and penetrable as a spirit, yet thou canst not assume dead bodies.

Pun

Prithee, Dogel, hold thy peace; thou talkest like a hogs fce.

Dog.

Deide not Puny: if I be not more like then any of your similitudes, I'll be hangd for't.

Cut.

Thy face, indeed, will do exceedng well to represent one risen from the grave

Dog.

By long conversation with the Ca¦ptain, I know all the passages between him and his brother; know what his humour, what his state and fortunes were, better then himself did when he lived.

Cut.

I, but thou 'lt ne'er act him. Why, man, he was a thing more stange then any monster in Africk where he travell'd.

Pun.

What was he, prithee?

Dog.

I knew him well enough; he had lost his memory, and therefore either writ down every thing, and took his business with him in a scroll, or else trusted it to his man Iohn, whom he carried with him.

Cut.

O I, that Iohn and he went perpetu∣ally together, like the blinde man and his dog.

Pun.

Or a Tinker and his tull. But d'ye hear, gallants, let me do apple-Iohn: never was such a Iohn as I'll be, not Iohn a Gaunt himself, nor Iohn a Nook.

Cut.

But Dogrel, how wilt thou be made like that Cinque-ater?

Dog.

Why we Poets can do any thing. First you may remember (unless you be like him) 'tis seven yeers since he went from hence; and time, you know, will alter men. I made an Ode upon that subject once: Time, that dost eat, and makst no Lent

Cut.

Pox take your Ode; go on i' your business, Dogrel.

Dog.

Then I and my man Iohn (as simply as he stands here) will swarthy over our faces as if the Countrey had made us so: for if you remember my verses, In Africk they are black as coals

Cut.

The devil's i' thy verses. Prithee on.

Dog.

Besides, we'll be attir'd in some strange habit of those Countries: I know not how; but you shall see't in Speed, Maps.

Cut.

Why now I like thee, my little Ovid; go about thy Metamorphosis. I'm for Taby∣th; she's taken, Dogrel,elted like virgins wax. I ll to her presently, and tell her that the vision appeared to me last, and warn'd me to carry her to S. 〈◊〉; there will I have a Priest.

Dog.

A Priest, Cutter?

Cut.

A Minister, I mean; a holy, godly, zealous Minister: and she—You conceive me, Dogrel

Dog.

Well, let's be going then. Puny, take heed o' your wit when you act Iohn: I shall beat my servant Iohn, if he be witty.

Pun.

That's the devil; I shall hardly ab∣stain.

Cut.

And Dogrel, you must make no verses, Dogrel: let that be the first thing your memory fails you in.

Pun.

Well, I'll follow you in a pissing-while.

Dog.

Do so, good Iohn.

Exit Dog. Cut.

Pun.

Now will I turn Iohn, as round as a Wedding-ring: and if that plot be cut of by the nose—Ha? Here comes sententious Bias that walks gravely. I'll observe my young Laconian.