PROLOGUE.

A NOBLE company! for we can spy,
Beside rich gaudy sirs, some that rely

More on their judgements than their clothes, and

may,

With wit as well as pride, rescue our play:

And 'tis but just, though each spectator knows
This house, and season, does more promise shows,
Dancing, and buckler fights, than art or wit;
Yet so much taxt of both as will befit
Our humble theme you shall receive, and such
As may please those who not expect too much.
For when you but survey the narrow ways
We walk in, you will find we could not raise
From a few seamen, wind-bound in a port
More various changes, business, or more sport.

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY.

SIR SOLEMN TRIFLE, a foolish old knight. SIR FURIOUS INLAND, a country knight. WARWELL, a gentleman, servant to Loveright. SEAWIT,

LADY LOVERIGHT, niece to Trifle.

MRS. JOYNTURE, cousin to Loveright.
NIGHTINGALE, Loveright's waiting-woman.
CARRACK, a rich widow.

SMOOTHALL, her maid.

Scene: PLYMOUTH.

NEWS FROM PLYMOUTH.

ACT I.

Enter SEAWIT, TOPSAIL, CABLE.

SEA. The wind still southerly? here we are like To stay till grass grow on our decks, and all Our masts take root, bud forth too and bear acorns, Which, as I take't my salt-sea friends, is like To be our food when all our victual's spent. How thrives your treasure, Cable? when your looks Are heavy, we shall need small magic to Divine your pockets light.

CA. A few mild-sixpences with which

My purser casts account is all I've left.

TOP. There are ith' harbour, sir, those of the faithful

That will trust, upon a good pawn: you must
Engage your plate.

SEA. His plate! alas! poor soul,

What plate hath he more than his boatswain's whistle.

As for the silver seal that hung at's wrist,

Whereon was carv'd the lover's scutcheons, sir,
The bleeding heart; that's gone long since t'adorn
His mistress' court cupboard, which, on a cloth
Of network edg'd with a ten-penny lace,
Stands now between her thimble and her bodkin ;
Objects of state, believ't, and ornament.

CA. This town is dearer than Jerusalem

After a year's siege; they would make us pay
For day-light, if they knew how to measure
The sun-beams by the yard. Nay, sell the very
Air too if they could serve it out in fine
China-bottles. If you walk but three turns
In the High-street, they will ask you money
For wearing out the pebbles.

SEA. This is your region, Topsail, for you sea

men

Love to converse of plenty, where you may
Be coz'ned for your ware, and meat, and think
Such negligence becomes a noble spirit,

As well as thrift a lean attorney or

Fat alderman, until your mercer and

Your man that squeezes your lusty wine of Greece,
Or brisk vin-dy, remove from's smokey habitation
In the town, unto your manor house:

There ride in triumph o'er your conquer'd land,
As if he did bestride my Lord Mayor's horse,
As if your meadows were Cheapside, and all
Your woods the just precincts of his own ward.
CA. And these two disciples to St. Tantlin,
That rise to long exercise before day,
And cozen'd soundly before noon; these shall
Grow old within your manor house, and die
There too, and be buried in your own chapel;
And have their sinful seacoal dust mingled
With th' ashes of your warlike ancestors.

TOP. 'Tis true, to these unpleasant hazards
Riot and youth must bring us:

The gallant humour of the age, no remedy.
Whilst yet the mother's blessing quarrels and
chimes

Ith' pocket thus: the thrift of thirty years
Sav'd out of mince pies, butter, and dry'd hops.
It must away; but where? In the metropolis,
London, the sphere of light and harmony;