Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9. Beaumont Francis

wits, then will I never have any more wit while I live; either the sight of the Lady has gaster'd him, or else he's drunk, or else he walks in his sleep, or else [he]'s a fool, or a knave, or both, one of the three, I'm sure 'tis; yet now I think on't, she has not us'd me so kindly as her Uncle promis'd me she should, but that's all one, he says I shall have her, and I dare take his word for the best [h]orse I have, and that's a weightier thing than a Lady, I'm sure on't.

[Exit.

Enter Lady Ruinous (as a man) Witty-Pate, Sir Ruinous, Priscian, and Master Credulous (binding and robbing her, and in Scarfs) Credulous finds the bag

      Lady Ruin. Nay, I am your own, 'tis in your pleasure

      How you'll deal with me; yet I would intreat,

      You will not make that which is bad enough,

      Worse than it need be, by a second ill,

      When it can render you no second profit;

      If it be coin you seek, you have your prey,

      All my store I vow, (and it weighs a hundred)

      My life, or any hurt you give my body,

      Can inrich you no more.

      Witty. You may pursue.

      L. Ruin. As I am a Gentleman; I never will,

      Only we'll bind you to quiet behaviour

      Till you call out for Bail, and on th' other

      Side of the hedge leave you; but keep the peace

      Till we be out of hearing, for by that

      We shall be out of danger, if we come back,

      We come with a mischief.

      Lady. You need not fear me.

      Prisc. Come, we'll bestow you then.

[Exit Ruin. Prisc. and Lady.

      Wit. Why law you Sir, is not this a swifter Revenue

      than, Sic probas, ergo's & igitur's can bring in? why is not this

      one of your Syllogismes in Barbara? Omne utile est honestum.

      Cred. Well Sir, a little more of this acquaintance

      Will make me know you fully, I protest.

      You have (at first sight) made me conscious

      Of such a deed my dreams ne'er prompted, yet

      I could almost have wish'd rather ye'ad rob'd me

      Of my Cloak, (for my Purse 'tis a Scholars)

      Than to have made me a robber.

      I had rather have answered three difficult questions,

      Than this one, as easie, as yet it seems.

      Witty. Tush, you shall never come to farther answer for't;

      Can you confess your penurious Uncle,

      In his full face of love, to be so strict

      A Nigard to your Commons, that you are fain

      To size your belly out with Shoulder Fees?

      With Rumps and Kidneys, and Cues of single Beer,

      And yet make Daymy to feed more daintily,

      At this easier rate? fie Master Credulous,

      I blush for you.

      Cred. This is a truth undeniable.

      Wit. Why go to then, I hope I know your Uncle,

      How does he use his Son, nearer than you?

      Cred. Faith, like his Jade, upon the bare Commons,

      Turn'd out to pick his living as he can get it;

      He would have been glad to have shar'd in such

      A purchase, and thank'd his good fortune too.

Enter Ruinous and Priscian

      But mum no more – is all safe, Bullies?

      Ruin. Secure, the Gentleman thinks him most happy in his loss,

      With his safe life and limbs, and redoubles

      His first vow, as he is a Gentleman,

      Never to pursue us.

      Wit. Well away then,

      Disperse you with Master Credulous, who still

      Shall bear the purchase, Priscian and I,

      Will take some other course: You know our meeting

      At the Three Cups in St Gile's, with this proviso,

      (For 'tis a Law with us) that nothing be open'd

      Till all be present, the looser saies a hundred,

      And it can weigh no less.

      Ruin. Come, Sir, we'll be your guide.

      Cred. My honesty, which till now was never forfeited,

      All shall be close till our meeting.

[Exit Cred. and Ruin.

      Witty. Tush, I believ't.

      And then all shall out; where's the thief that's robb'd?

Enter Lady Ruinous

      L. Rui. Here Master Oldcraft, all follows now.

      Witty. 'Twas neatly done, wench, now to turn that bag

      Of counterfeits to current pieces, & actum est.

      L. Rui. You are the Chymist, we'll blow the fire still,

      If you can mingle the ingredients.

      Witty. I will not miss a cause, a quantity, a dram,

      You know the place.

      Pris. I have told her that, Sir.

      Witty. Good, turn Ruinous to be a Constable, I'm sure

      We want not beards of all sorts, from the

      Worshipful Magistrate to the under Watchman;

      Because we must have no danger of life,

      But a cleanly cheat, attach Credulous,

      The cause is plain, the theft found about him;

      Then fall I in his own Cosins shape

      By mere accident, where finding him distrest,

      I with some difficulty must fetch him off,

      With promise that his Uncle shall shut up all

      With double restitution: Master Constable, Ruinous

      His mouth shall be stopt; you, Mistriss rob-thief,

      Shall have your share of what we can gull my Father of;

      Is't plain enough?

      L. Rui. As plain a cozenage as can be, faith.

      Witty. Father, I come again, and again when this is

      Past too, Father, one will beget another;

      I'd be loath to leave your posterity barren,

      You were best [to] come to composition Father,

      Two hundred pieces yearly allow me yet,

      It will [be] cheaper (Father) than my wit,

      For I will cheat none but you, dear Father.

[Exeunt.

      Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima

Enter Old