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I dare assure you, hee's our Parish Pope!

God fave my reverend Clergy, Parfon Palate.

Act I. Scene II.

Palate, Compasse, Iron/ide.

Pal. The witty Mr. Compa//e! how is't, with you? Com. My Lady staies for you, and for your Councell, Touching her Neice Mrs. Placentia Steele !

Who ftrikes the fire of full fourteene, to day,

5 Ripe for a husband. Pal. I, fhe chimes, shee chimes, Saw you the Doctor Rut, the house Physician?

10

He's fent for, too. Com. To Councell? 'time you' were

there.

Make haste, and give it a round quick dispatch:
That wee may goe to dinner betimes, Parfon :

And drinke a health or two more, to the busines.
Iro. This is a strange put-off! a reverend youth,
You use him most furreverently me thinkes!

What call you him? Palate Please? or Parson Palate?
Com. All's one, but shorter! I can gi' you his
Character.

15 Hee, is the Prelate of the Parish, here;

20

And governes all the Dames; appoints the cheere; Writes downe the bils of fare; pricks all the Guests; Makes all the matches and the marriage feasts

Within the ward; drawes all the parish wils;

Designes the Legacies; and strokes the Gills
Of the chiefe Mourners; And (who ever lacks)
Of all the kindred, hee hath first his blacks.
Thus holds hee weddings up, and burials,

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As his maine tithing; with the Goffips stals,

Their pewes; He's top still, at the publique messe;
Comforts the widow, and the fatherlesse,

In funerall Sack! Sits 'bove the Alderman!

For of the Ward-mote Quelt, he better can,
The mysterie, then the Levitick Law:

That peece of Clark-ship doth his Vestry awe.
Hee is as he conceives himselfe, a fine
Well furnish'd, and apparaled Divine.

Com. No,

Iro. Who made this EPIGRAMME, you? Com. a great Clarke

As any 'is of his bulke. (Ben: Ion/on) made it.

25

30

Iro. But what's the other Character, Doctor Rut? 35
Com. The fame man made 'hem both: but his is shorter,
And not in rime, but blancks. Ile tell you that, too.
Rut is a young Physician to the family:
That, letting God alone, ascribes to nature
More then her share; licentious in discourse,
And in his life a profest Voluptary;

The flave of money, a Buffon in manners;
Obscene in language; which he vents for wit;
Is fawcy in his Logicks, and disputing,

Is any thing but civill, or a man.

See here they are! and walking with my Lady,
In confultation, afore the doore;

Wee will flip in, as if we saw 'hem not.

40

45

45 Re-enter Palate with Rut and lady Loadstone, in discourse. G

Act I. Scene III.

Lady, Palate, Rut.

Lad. I, tis his fault, fhe's not bestow'd,

My brother Interefts. Pal. Who, old Sir Moath?
Lad. Hee keeps off all her Suitors, keepes the portion,
Still in his hands and will not part with all,

5 On any termes. Pal. Hinc illae lachrymae;

Thence flowes the cause o' the maine grievance. Rut. That

Is a maine one! how much is the portion?

Lad. No petty summe. Pal. But sixteene thousand

pound.

Rut. He should be forc'd, Madam, to lay it downe. 10 When is it payable? Lad. When she is married. Marry her, marry her, Madam. Rut. Get her married.

Pal.

Loose not a day, an houre-Pal. Not a minute.
Pursue your project reall. Mr. Compasse,
Advis'd you, too. He is the perfect Instrument,

15 Your Ladiship should faile by. Rut. Now, Mr. Compa/le Is a fine witty man; I saw him goe in, now.

20

Lad. Is hee gone in? Pal. Yes, and a Fether with

him,

He feemes a Souldier. Rut. Some new Sutor, Madam. Lad. I am beholden to him: hee brings ever

Variety of good persons to my table,

And I must thanke him, though my brother Interest

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Hee'll goe his owne way, if he thinke it right.

Act .. Rut.] om. G [Iron. and Com. go into the house. G

...

15 Now,] om. G

Lad. Hee's a true friend! and ther's Mr. Practife, 25 The fine young man of Law comes to the house:

My brother brooks him not, because he thinkes

He is by me assigned for my Neice:

Hee will not heare of it. Rut. Not of that eare;
But yet your Ladiship doth wifely in it——

Pal. 'Twill make him to lay downe the portion sooner,
If he but dreame you'l match her with a Lawyer.
Lad. So Mr. Compalle fayes. It is betweene
The Lawyer, and the Courtier, which fhall have her.
Bal. Who, Sir Diaphanous Silke-worme?

fine Gentle-man

30

Rut. A 35

Old Mr. Silke-wormes Heire. Pal.
Pal. And a neat Courtier,
Of a most elegant thred. Lad. And so my Gossip

Polish affures me. Here she comes! good Polish
Welcome in troth! How do'ft thou gentle Polish?

Rut. Who's this? Pal. Dame Polish, her shee- 40
Parasite,

Her talking, soothing, sometime governing Gossip.

Act I. Scene IV.

Polish, Lady, Palate, Rut.

Pal. Your Ladiship is still the Lady Load/tone That drawes, and drawes unto you, Guests of all forts: The Courtiers, and the Souldiers, and the Schollers,

The Travellers, Physicians, and Divines,

As Doctor Ridley writ, and Doctor Barlow?

They both have wrote of you, and Mr. Compa//e.

Lad.

Wee meane, they shall write more, ere it be long. Pol. Alas, they are both dead, and 't please you; But, Your Ladiship meanes well, and shall meane well,

35 Bal.] Pal. 1692, f 40 this?] Aside to Palate. G

38 comes!] Enter mistress Polish. G

Act... Rut.] om. G

5

10 So long as I live. How does your fine Neice? My charge, Miftris Placentia Steele ?

Lad.

Shee is not well. Pol. Not well? Lad. Her

Doctor fayes fo.

Rut. Not very well; shee cannot shoot at Buts.
Or manage a great Horse, but shee can cranch
15 A fack of small coale! eat you lime, and haire,
Soap-ashes, Loame, and has a dainty spice

O' the greene sicknesse! Pol. 'Od fheild! Rut. Or the Dropfie!

A toy, a thing of nothing.

But my Lady, here

Her noble Aunt. Pol. Shee is a noble Aunt!

20 And a right worshipfull Lady, and a vertuous;
I know it well; Rut. Well, if you know it, peace.
Pal. Good fister Polish heare your betters speake.
Pol. Sir I will speake, with my good Ladies leave,
And speake, and speake againe; I did bring up
25 My Ladies Neice, Mrs. Placentia Steele,
With my owne Daughter (who's Placentia too)
And waits upon my Lady, is her woman:
Her Ladiship well knowes Mrs. Placentia
Steele (as I faid) her curious Neice, was left
30 A Legacie to me; by Father, and Mother
With the Nurse, Keepe, that tended her: her Mother
Shee died in Child-bed of her and her Father
Liv'd not long after: for he lov'd her Mother!
They were a godly couple! yet both di'd,

35 (As wee must all.) No creature is immortall;
I have heard our Pastor say: no, not the faithful!
And they did die (as I faid) both in one moneth.
Rut.

40

Sure shee is not long liv'd, if she spend breath thus.

Pol. And did bequeath her, to my care, and hand, To polish, and bring up. I moulded her,

And fashion'd her, and form'd her; fhe had the fweat

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