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Determines the indenture tripartite,
'Twixt Subtle, Dol, and Face. All I can do,
Is to help you over the wall, o'the backside;
Or lend you a sheet to save your velvet gown, Dol.
Here will be officers presently; bethink you
Of some course suddenly to’scape the dock;
For thither you'll come else. Hark you, thunder.

[Some knock. Sub. You are a precious fiend ! Ofi. Open the door.” Face. Dol, I am sorry for thee i' faith. But, hear'st

thou? It shall go hard, but I will place thee somewhere : Thou shalt ha' my letter to mistress Amo.

Dol. Hang you-
Face. Or madam Cæsarean.

Dol. Pox upon you, rogue :
Would I had but time to beat thee.

[Exit Dol. Face. Subtle,

480 Let's know where you set up next: I'll send you A customer, now and then, for old acquaintance : What new course ha' you?

Sub. Rogue, I'll hang myself, That I

may walk a greater devil thân thou, And haunt thee i'the flock-bed, and the buttery. [Exit.


A Street before Lovewit's House. Lovewit above.

Enter Officers, MAMMON, SURLY, FACE, KAS-
Love. What do you mean, my masters ?

Mam. Open your door,
Cheaters, bawds, conjurers.

Offr. Or we'll break it open.
Love. What warrant have you?
Off. Warrant enough, sir, doubt not.
Love. Is there an officer there?
Offi. Yes, two or three for failing.

Love. Have but patience,
And I will open it straight.

Face. Sir h' you done?
Is it a marriage? perfect?

Love. Yes, my brain.
Face. Off with your ruff, and cloak then; be your-
self, sir.

501 Sur. Down with the door. Kas. 'Slight, ding it open.

Love. Hold,
Hold, gentleman, what means this violence?

Mam. Where is this collier ?
Sur. And my captain Face?
Mam. These day-owls?
Sur. That are birding in men's purses.

Mam. Madam Suppository?
Kas. Doxey, my suster?
Ana. Locusts of the foul pit.
Trio Prophane as Bell and the Dragon.
Ana. Worse than thegrashoppers, or the lice of Egypt.
Love. Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers,
And cannot stay this violence ?

Offi. Keep the peace.
Love. Gentlemen, what is the matter? Whom do

you seek :

Mam. The chymical cožener.
Sur. And the captain pander.
Kas. The nun my suster.

Mam. Madam Rabbi.
Ana. Scorpions and caterpillars,
Love. Fewer at once, I pray you.

Offi. One after another, gentlemen, I charge you. By virtue of iny staff.

Ana. They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart.

Love. Good zeal, lie still A little while.

Tri. Peace, deacon Ananias.

Love. The house is mine here, and the doors are open: If there be any such persons you seek for, Use your authority ; I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult 'bout my door (tò tell you true) It somewhat ʼmaz’d me; till my man here, fearing My more displeasure, told me he had done

Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house
To a doctor, and a captain ; who, what they are,
Or where they be, he knows not.

540 Mam. Are they gone?

[They enter. Love. You may go

and search, sir. Here, I find The empty walls worse than I left them, smok’d, A few crack'd pots and glasses, and a furnace; The cieling fill’d with poesies of the candle: Only one gentlewoman, I met here, That is within, that said she was a widowKas. Ay, that's my suster, I'll go thump her. Where is she?

[Exit. Love. And should ha’married a Spanish count, but he, When he came to't, neglected her so grossly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her.

Sur. Hw! have I lost her then ?

Love. Were you the don, sir? Good faith, now, she does blame yo’extremely, and says You swore, and told her, you had ta'en the pains “ To dye your beard, and umbre o'er your face,” Borrowed a suit and ruff all for her love, And then did nothing. What an oversight, And want of putting forward, sir, was this ! Well fare an old harquebuzier, yet, Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, All in a twinkling,


Mam. The whole nest are fled!
Love. What sort of birds were they?

Mam. A kind of choughs,
Or thievish daws, sir, that have pick'd my purse
Of eight-score and ten pounds, within these five weeks,
Beside my first materials, and my goods,
That lie i'the cellar, which I am glad they ha' left.
I may have them home yet.

Love. Think you so, sir?
Mam. Ay.
Love. By order of law, sir, but not otherwise.
Mam. Not mine own stuff?

Love. Sir, I can take no knowledge,
That they are yours, but by public means.
If you can bring certificate, that you were gulldof them,

formal writ out of a court, That you did cozen yourself, I will not hold them. Mam. I'll rather lose them.

580 Love. That you shall not, sir, By me, in troth. Upon these terms they are yours. What should they ha' been, sir, turn'd into gold all.?

Mam. No. I cannot tell. It may be they should. What then? Love. What a great loss in hope have you

Mam. Not I, the commonwealth has.
I will go mount a turnip-cart, and preach
The end. o'the world, within these two months.
Surly, what I in a dream?

Sur. Must I needs cheat myself,
With that same foolish vice of honesty!
Come, let us go, and hearken out the rogues.
That Face I'll mark for mine, if e'er I meet him.


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