Cler. Why, if thou wilt needs know How we are freed, I will discover it, And with laconic brevity. These gentlemen This night encountering with those outlaws that Yesterday made us prisoners, and, as we were Attempted by 'em, they with greater courage, (I am sure with better fortune) not alone Guarded themselves, but forced the bloody thieves, Being got between them and this hellish cave, For safety of their lives, to fly up higher Into the woods, all left to their possession: This saved your brother and your nephew from The gibbet, this redeem'd me from my chains, And gave my friend his liberty; this preserved Your honour, ready to be lost.

Din. But that

I know this for a lie, and that the thieves

[Aside.

And gentlemen are the same men, by my practice Suborn'd to this, he does deliver it

With such a constant brow, that, I am doubtful, I should believe him too.

1 Gent. If we did well,

We are rewarded.

2 Gent. Thanks but take away From what was freely purposed.

Cler. Now, by this hand, [To the Gentlemen apart. You have so cunningly discharged your parts, That, while we live, rest confident you shall Command Dinant and Cleremont. Nor Beaupré Nor Verdone scents it; for the ladies, they Were easy to be gull'd.

1 Gent. 'Twas but a jest ;

And yet the jest may chance to break, our necks, Should it be known.

Cler. Fear nothing. Din. Cleremont, Say, what success?

Cler. As thou wouldst wish; 'tis done, lad! The grove will witness with me, that this night I lay not like a block. But how speed you? Din. I yet am in suspense; devise some means To get these off, and speedily.

Cler. I have it.—

Come, we are dull; I think that the good fellows,
Our predecessors in this place, were not
So foolish and improvident husbands, but
'Twill yield us meat and wine. ƒƒ 2

I will be fool'd no more: You had your tricks,
Made properties of me and of my friend,
Presumed upon your power, and whipp'd me with
The rod of mine own dotage: Do not flatter
Yourself with hope, that any human help
Can free you; and, for aid by miracle,
A base unthankful woman is unworthy.
Lam. You will not force me?

Din. Rather than enjoy you

With your consent; because I will torment you, I'll make you feel th' effects of abused love, And glory in your torture!

Lam. Brother! nephew!

Help, help, for Heaven's sake!

Din. Tear your throat, cry louder;

Though every leaf these trees bear were an echo,
And summon'd in your best friends to redeem you,
It should be fruitless: 'Tis not that I love you,
Or value those delights you prize so high,
That I'll enjoy you; a French crown will buy
More sport, and a companion to whom
You in your best trim are an Ethiop.
Lam. Forbear me then.

Din. Not so; I'll do't in spite,

And break that stubborn disobedient will,

That hath so long held out; that boasted honour
I will make equal with a common whore's:
The spring of chastity, that fed your pride,
And grew into a river of vain glory,

I will defile with mud, the mud of lust,
And make it loathsome even to goats!
Lam. Oh, Heaven!

No pity, sir?

Din. You taught me to be cruel,

And dare you think of mercy? I'll tell thee, fool;
Those that surprised thee were my instruments:
I can plot too, good madam, (you shall find it,)
And, in the stead of licking of my fingers,
Kneeling and whining like a boy new-breech'd,
To get a toy, forsooth, not worth an apple,
Thus make my way, and with authority
Command what I would have.

You cannot be too cruel. If there be,
Besides the loss of my long-guarded honour,
Anything else to make the balance even,

Pray put it in; all hopes, all helps have left me,
I am girt round with sorrow, hell's about me,
And ravishment the least that I can look for!
Do what you please.

Din. Indeed I will do nothing,

Nor touch, nor hurt you, lady; nor had ever
Such a lewd purpose.

Lam. Can there be such goodness,

And in a man so injured!

Din. Be confirmed in't;

[Kisses her.

I seal it thus. I must confess you vex'd me,
In fooling me so often, and those fears
You threw upon me call'd for a requital,
Which now I have return'd. All unchaste love
Dinant thus throws away! Live to mankind,
As you have done to me, and I will honour
Your virtue, and no more think of your beauty.

Lam. All I possess comes short of satisfaction. Din. No compliments. The terrors of this night Imagine but a fearful dream, and so

With ease forget it: for Dinant, that labour'd
To blast your honour, is a champion for it,
And will protect and guard it.

Lam. 'Tis as safe, then,

As if a complete army undertook it.

[Exeunt.

My honourable friend, my valiant friend,

Be but so beaten-Forward, my brave clients;

I am yours, and you are mine again-Be but so thresht,

Receive that castigation with a cudgel

Samp. Which calls upon us for a reparation. La Writ. I have it, it cost me half-a-crown, I bear it,

All over me I bear it, Monsieur Sampson;
The oils, and the old woman that repairs to me,
To 'noint my beaten body.

Samp. It concerns you,

You have been swinged.

La Writ. Let it concern thee, too;

Go, and be beaten; speak scurvy words as I did;
Speak to that lion-lord, waken his anger,
And have a hundred bastinadoes, do;

Three broken pates, thy teeth knock'd out; do,

Give me the wisdom that's beaten into a man! That sticks still by him.-Art thou a new man? Samp. Yes, yes;

Thy learned precepts have enchanted me.

La Writ. Go, my son Sampson, I have now begot thee;

I'll send thee causes; speak to thy lord, and live,
And lay my share by; go, and live in peace,
Put on new suits, and shew fit for thy place:
That man neglects his living is an ass.

[Exit SAMPSON. Farewell!-Come, chearly, boys, about our busiNow, welcome tongue again, hang swords! [ness!

1 Client. Sweet advocate !

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Country-house of CHAM

PERNEL.

Enter Nurse and CHARLOTTE.

Nurse. I know not, wench; they may call 'em what they will,

Outlaws, or thieves; but, I am sure, to me
One was an honest man; he used me well:
What I did, 'tis no matter; he complain'd not.
Char. I must confess there was one bold with

me, too;

Some coy thing would say rude, but 'tis no matter;
I was to pay a waiting woman's ransom,
And I have done't; and I would pay't again,
Were I ta'en to-morrow.

Nurse. Alas, there was no hurt!

If't be a sin for such as live at hard meat,

And keep a long Lent in the woods, as they do, To taste a little flesh

Char. God help the courtiers,

That lie at rack and manger!
Nurse. I shall love

A thief the better for this while I live;

They are men of a charitable vocation,

And give where there is need, and with discretion,
And put a good speed-penny in my purse,
That has been empty twenty years.

Char. Peace, nurse;

Farewell, and cry not roast meat. Methinks

Cleremont

And my lady Anabel are in one night Familiarly acquainted.

Ana. Sir, I am where

I owe most duty.

Cler. 'Tis indeed most true, sir;

The man that should have been your bed-fellow,
Your lordship's bed-fellow, that could not smell
A virgin of sixteen, that was your fool

To make you merry; this poor simple fellow
Has met the maid again, and now she knows
He is a man.

Champ. How; is she dishonour'd?

[out

Cler. Not unless marriage be dishonourable : Heaven is a witness of our happy contract, And the next priest we meet shall warrant it To all the world. I lay with her in jest; 'Tis turn'd to earnest now.

Champ. Is this true, niece?

Din. Her blushing silence grants it. Nay, sir, storm not;

He is my friend, and I can make this good,
His birth and fortunes equal hers; your lordship
Might have sought out a worse; we are all friends

SCENE I.-The Court of the Imperial Palace.

Enter BALBUS, PROCULUS, CHILAX, and LICINIUS. Bal. I never saw the like; she's no more stirr'd, No more another woman, no more alter'd With any hopes or promises laid to her, Let 'em be ne'er so weighty, ne'er so winning, Than I am with the motion of my own legs. Proc. Chilax,

You are a stranger yet in these designs,

At least in Rome. Tell me, and tell me truth, Did you e'er know, in all your course of practice, In all the ways of women you have run through— (For I presume you have been brought up, Chilax, As we, to fetch and carry.)

Were they to try again, say twice as many,
Under a thousand pound, to lay 'em bed-rid:
But this wench staggers me.

Licin. Do you see these jewels?

You would think these pretty baits; now, I'll asHere's half the wealth of Asia. [sure you,

Bal. These are nothing

To the full honours I propounded to her :
I bid her think, and be, and presently,
Whatever her ambition, what the counsel
Of others would add to her, what her dreams
Could more enlarge, what any precedent
Of any woman rising up to glory,
And standing certain there, and in the highest,
Could give her more; nay, to be empress.
Proc. And cold at all these offers ?
Bal. Cold as crystal,
Ne'er to be thaw'd again.

Chi. I tried her further,

And so far, that I think she is no woman;
At least, as women go now.

Licin. Why, what did you?

Chi. I offer'd that, that had she been but mistress

From her aspect to draw their good or evil,
Fix'd in 'em, spite of fortune; a new nature
She should be call'd, and mother of all ages;
Time should be hers; and what she did, lame Vir-

tue

Should bless to all posterities: her air
Should give us life, her earth and water feed us;
And last, to none but to the emperor,
(And then but when she pleased to have it so,)
She should be held for mortal.

Licin. And she heard you?

Chi. Yes, as a sick man hears a noise; or he That stands condemn'd, his judgment. Let me perish,

But, if there can be virtue; if that name
Be anything but name and empty title,

If it be so as fools have been pleased to feign it,
A power that can preserve us after ashes,
And make the names of men out-reckon ages,
This woman has a god of virtue in her!

Bal. I would the emperor were that god.
Chi. She has in her

All the contempt of glory and vain-seeming
Of all the Stoicks, all the truth of Christians,
And all their constancy: Modesty was made
When she was first intended. When she blushes,
It is the holiest thing to look upon;

The purest temple of her sect that ever
Made Nature a bless'd founder.

Proc. Is there no way

To take this phoenix?

Licin. None but in her ashes.

Chi. If she were fat, or any way inclining To ease or pleasure, or affected glory, Proud to be seen and worshipp'd, 'twere a venture; But, on my soul, she is chaster than cold camphire.

Bal. I think so, too; for all the ways of woman, Like a full sail, she bears against. I ask'd her, After my many offers, walking with her, And her as many down-denials, how

If th' emperor grown mad with love, should force her?

She pointed to a Lucrece, that hung by,
And with an angry look, that from her eyes
Shot vestal fire against me, she departed.

Proc. This is the first wench I was ever posed in; Yet I have brought young loving things together This two-and-thirty years.

Chi. I find, by this wench,

The calling of a bawd to be a strange,

A wise, and subtle calling, and for none
But staid, discreet, and understanding people :
And, as the tutor to great Alexander

Would say, a young man should not dare to read
His moral books, till after five-and-twenty;
So must that he or she, that will be bawdy,
(I mean discreetly bawdy, and be trusted,)
If they will rise, and gain experience,

Well steep'd in years, and discipline, begin it;
I take it, 'tis no boys' play.

Bal. Well, what's thought of?
Proc. The emperor must know it.
Licin. If the women

Should chance to fail too?

Chi. As 'tis ten to one.

Proc. Why, what remains, but new nets for the

purchase?

Chi. Let's go consider, then; and if all fail, This is the first quick eel that saved her tail. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

- An Apartment in the House of MAXIMUS.

Enter LUCINA, ARDELIA, and PнORBA. Ard. You still insist upon that idol, honour: Can it renew your youth? can it add wealth That takes off wrinkles? can it draw men's eyes Το gaze upon you in your age? can honour (That truly is a saint to none but soldiers, And, look'd into, bears no reward but danger) Leave you the most respected person living? Or can the common kisses of a husband (Which to a sprightly lady is a labour) Make you almost immortal? You are cozen'd; The honour of a woman is her praises; The way to get these, to be seen, and sought to, And not to bury such a happy sweetness Under a smoaky roof.

Lucina. I'll hear no more.

Phorba. That white and red, and all that blessed beauty,

Kept from the eyes, that make it so, is nothing: Then you are rarely fair, when men proclaim it. The phoenix, were she never seen, were doubted; That most unvalued horn the unicorn

Bears to oppose the huntsman, were it nothing
But tale, and mere tradition, would help no man ;
But when the virtue's known, the honour's doubled.
Virtue is either lame, or not at all;

And Love a sacrilege, and not a saint,
When it bars up the way to men's petitions.
Ard. Nay, you shall love your husband too;
To make a monster of you.
[we come not

Lucina. Are ye women?
Ard. You'll find us so; and women you shall
If you have grace to make your use. [thank too,
Lucina. Fy on ye!

Phorba. Alas, poor bashful lady! By my soul,
Had you no other virtue but your blushes,
And I a man, I should run mad for those.
How daintily they set her off, how sweetly!
Ard. Come, goddess, come; you move too near
the earth;

It must not be! a better orb stays for you:
Here; be a maid, and take 'em. [Offers her jewels.

Lucina. Pray leave me.

Phorba. That were a sin, sweet lady, and a way To make us guilty of your melancholy;

You must not be alone; in conversation

Doubts are resolved, and what sticks near the Made easy, and allowable.

Lucina. Ye are devils!

[conscience

Ard. That you may one day bless for your

damnation.

Lucina. I charge ye, in the name of Chastity, Tempt me no more! How ugly ye seem to me! There is no wonder men defame our sex, And lay the vices of all ages on us, When such as you shall bear the names of women! If ye had eyes to see yourselves, or sense Above the base rewards ye play the bawds for; If ever in your lives ye heard of goodness, Though many regions off, as men hear thunder; If ever ye had fathers, and they souls;

If ever mothers, and not such as you are;

If ever anything were constant in you,
Besides your sins, or common but your curses;
If ever any of your ancestors

Died worth a noble deed, that would be cherish'd
Soul-frighted with this black infection,