SAND. Let me not lose myself in wondering at thee! But how made you your score even for the mother?

SAV. Pish, easily; we told him how her fortunes Mock'd us as they mock'd her; when we were o' the sea

She was o' the land; and, as report was given,
When we were landed, she was gone to heaven.
So he believes two lies one error bred,
The daughter ransom'd, and the mother dead.
SAND. Let me admire thee, and withal confess
My injuries to friendship!

PHIL. They're all pardon'd:

These are the arms I bore against my friend.
SAV. But what's all this to the present? this dis-

course

Leaves you i' the bog still.

PHIL. On, good Savourwit.

SAV. For yet our policy has cross'd ourselves; For the old knave, my master, little thinking her Wife to his son, but his own daughter still,

Seeks out a match for her

PHIL. Here I feel the surgeon

At second dressing.

SAV. And has entertain'd,

Even for pure need, for fear the glass should crack That is already broken but well solder'd,

A mere sot for her suitor, a rank fox,

One Weatherwise, that wooes by the almanac,
Observes the full and change, an arrant moon-calf;
And yet, because the fool demands no portion
But the bare dower of her smock, the old fellow,
Worn to the bone with a dry, covetous1 itch,
To save his purse, and yet bestow his child,

dower] Old ed. "Down."

i covetous] Old ed. “ courteous."

Consents to waste [her on] lumps of almanac-stuff Kned with May-butter. Now, as I have thought on't, I'll spoil him in the baking.

SAND. Prithee, as how, sirrah?

SAV. I'll give him such a crack in one o' the sides, He shall quite run out of my master's favour.

PHIL. I should but too much love thee for that. SAV. Thus, then,

To help you both at once, and so good night to you : After my wit has shipp'd away the fool,

As he shall part, I'll buzz into the ear

Of my old master, that you, sir, master Sandfield,
Dearly affect his daughter, and will take her
With little or no portion; well stood out in't;
Methinks I see him caper at that news,
And in the full cry, O! This brought about
And wittily dissembled on both parts-

You to affect his love, he to love

yoursI'll so beguile the father at the marriage, That each shall have his own; and both being

welcom'd

And chamber'd in one house,-as 'tis his pride
To have his children's children got successively
On his forefathers' feather-beds,-in the daytimes,
To please the old man's eyesight, you may dally,
And set a kiss on the wrong lip-no sin in't,
Brothers and sisters do't, cousins do more;
But, pray, take heed you be not kin to them:
So in the night-time nothing can deceive you,
Let each know his own work; and there I leave you.

May-butter] "If during the moneth of May before you salt your butter you saue a lumpe thereof, and put it into a vessell, and so set it into the Sun the space of that moneth, you shall finde it exceeding soueraigne and medicinable for wounds, straines, aches, and such like grievances." G. Markham's English Housewife, p. 199, ed. 1637.

SAND. Let me applaud thee!
PHIL. Blest be all thy ends

That mak'st arm'd enemies embracing friends! About it speedily. [Exit with SANDFIELD.

SAV. I need no pricking;

I'm of that mettle, so well pac'd and free,
There's no good riders that use spur to me.

O, are you come?

Enter GRACE.

GRACE. Are any comforts coming?

SAV. I never go without 'em.

GRACE. Thou Sportest joys that utterance cannot perfect.

SAV. Hark, are they risen?

GRACE. Yes, long before I left 'em ;

And all intend to bring the widow homeward.
SAV. Depart then, mistress, to avoid suspect;
Our good shall arrive time enough at your heart.
[Exit GRACE.

Poor fools, that evermore take a green surfeit
Of the first fruits of joys! Let a man but shake the

tree,

How soon they'll hold up their laps to receive com

fort!

The music that I struck made her soul dance
Peace-

Enter LADY GOLDENFLEECE with SIR GILBERT LAMB-
STONE, PEPPERTON, and OVERDONE; after them,
SIR OLIVER TWILIGHT and SUNSET, with GRACE
and JANE.

Here comes the lady widow, the late wife
To the deceas'd sir Avarice Goldenfleece,
Second to none for usury and extortion,
As too well it appears on a poor gentleman,
One master Low-water, from whose estate

He pull'd that fleece that makes his widow weight. Those are her suitors now, sir Gilbert Lambstone, Master Pepperton, [and] master Overdone. [Aside. L. GOLD. Nay, good sir Oliver Twilight, master Sunset,

We'll trouble you no farther.

SIR O. TWI. No trouble, sweet madam.

SUN.

SIR G. LAMB. We'll see the widow at home, it shall be our charge that.

L. GOLD. It shall be so indeed.

Thanks, good sir Oliver; and to you both

I am indebted for those courtesies

That will ask me a long time to requite.

SIR O. TWI. Ah, 'tis but your pleasant condition3 to give it out so, madam.

L. GOLD. Mistress Grace and mistress Jane, I wish you both

A fair contented fortune in your choices,
And that you happen right.

GRACE. Thanks to you, good madam;

JANE.

GRACE. There's more in that word right than you imagine.

[Aside.

L. GOLD. I now repent, girls, a rash oath I took,
When you were both infants, to conceal a secret.
GRACE. What does 't concern, good madam?
L. GOLD. No, no;

Since you are both so well, 'tis well enough;
It must not be reveal'd; 'tis now no more
Than like mistaking of one hand for t'other:
A happy time to you both!

GRACE.

JANE.

The like to you, madam!

condition] i. e. disposition, nature.

GRACE. I shall long much to have this riddle

open'd. [Aside. JANE. I would you were so kind to my poor

kinswoman,

And the distressèd gentleman her husband,
Poor master Low-water, who on ruin leans;
You keep this secret as you keep his means.

[Aside. L. GOLD. Thanks, good sir Oliver Twilight ;welcome,

Sweet master Pepperton ;-master Overdone, wel

come.

[Exeunt all except SIR OLIVER TWILIGHT and SAVOURWIT.

SIR O. TWI. And goes the business well 'twixt those young lovers?

SAV. Betwixt your son and master Sunset's daughter

The line goes even, sir.

SIR O. TWI. Good lad, I like thee.

SAV. But, sir, there's no proportion, height, or evenness,

Betwixt that equinoctial and your daughter.
SIR O. TWI. 'Tis true, and I'm right glad on't
SAV. Are you glad, sir,

There's no proportion in't?

SIR O. TWI. Ay, marry am I, sir:

I can abide no word that ends in portion;

I'll give her nothing.

SAV. Say you should not, sir

As I'll ne'er urge your worship 'gainst your nature— Is there no gentleman, think you, of worth and

credit,

Will open 's bed to warm a naked maid?

Thanks, good, &c.] Makes in old ed. a portion of Jane's speech.