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: And drinke a health or two more, to the busines. What call you him? Palate Please? or Parson Palate? 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 As his maine tithing; with the Goffips stals, Their pewes; He's top still, at the publique messe; In funerall Sack! Sits 'bove the Alderman! For of the Ward-mote Quelt, he better can, That peece of Clark-ship doth his Vestry awe. 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 The flave of money, a Buffon in manners; Is any thing but civill, or a man. See here they are! and walking with my Lady, 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? 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. 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 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; Pal. 'Twill make him to lay downe the portion sooner, fine Gentle-man 30 Rut. A 35 Old Mr. Silke-wormes Heire. Pal. Polish affures me. Here she comes! good Polish Rut. Who's this? Pal. Dame Polish, her shee- 40 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. 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; 35 (As wee must all.) No creature is immortall; 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 |