{Maddams}, the best way, is the vpper Lodgings.
+
there you may see at ease.
we thanck ye, Sir: =
would you haue all theis slighted? who should report then
the {Embassadors} were hansom men?, his Beard a neat one?,
the fire of his eie, quicker then Lightning?
(and where it breakes, as blasting) his Leggs, though litle ones,
yet Movers of a masse of vnderstanding?
Who shall survey their Clothes? who shall take notice
of the most wise behauiour of theire Feathers?
you live a rawe- #man here.+
*+
*
I thinck I doe soe:
why, wheather would ye all presse?
good Master {Vsher}.
my wiffe, and some few of my honest Neighbours here,
pree-#thee begon, thou, and thy honest Neighbours,
thou lookst like an Asse: why, whether would yow. Fish-#face?
[yf] if I might haue but the honor, to see you at my poore+
house (Sir)
a Capon bridled, and sadled I#'ll assure your worship:
a sholder of Mutton, and a potle of wine, (Sir,)
some {Musick} I#'ll assure ye too: My {Toy}, (Sir)
can play o'th' Virginalls.
pree-#thee (good {Toy})
take away thy shoulder of Mutton, he is fly-#blowne: =
nay; then you had best be knockd:+
*+
*
I would fayne see him:
The glory of this place makes me remember. =
+
but die those thoughtes: die all, but my Desires,
(even those to death are lost too). He#'s not here:
nor how mine eies may guid me.
what#'s your Busynes?
who keepes the out ward dores there? heere#'s fine shuffling:
you ({#Wast coat teere},) you must goe back.
there is not:
there cannot be six daies, and never see me:
there must not be Desire: Sir, doe you thinck
that if you had a {Mistris}.
(she is mad:)
and were yourself an honest man? It cannot:
what hast thou to do with me, or with mine honestie?
I crave your mercy: I meant no such thing to ye:
but if ye were a Gentleman:
alas (poore woman:)
'pray doe not thrust her soe:
nay: even continue:
and doe not let your Office fall (Sir) I beseech ye:
for want of Indiscretion, and ill Manners;
you would haue made a notable sturdy Beadle:
She must goe out:
I am out already (Sir)
out of my witts, you say: 'pray heaven it prove not;
if this fell Fit afflict me.
will ye be iogging?
+
good Nimble-#Tongue: My fellow Doore-#keeper.
pree-#thee let her alone.
The {King} is com$ming,
and shall we haue an Agent for the Subvrbs
come to crave Audience too?
before I thought ye
to haue a litle Breeding: some tang of Gentleman.
and did forgive that hereditary folly
belongs to your Place: but now I take ye plainely,
(without the help of any Perspective)
for that, you cannot alter.
what#'s that?
an Asse (Sir) you bray as like,
and (by my troth) me-#thincks, (as ye stand now
considering who to kick next) you appeare to me
iust with that kind of gravitie, and wisdome;
your Place may beare the name of Gentleman,
but if ever any of that butter stick to your Bread.
you must be modester:
let him vse me nobeler:
and weare good Clothes, to doe good Offices:
they hang vpon a Fellow of his vertue
as though they hung in Iibbitts.
a par'lous wench:
thrust her into a Corner: I#'ll no more #on her:
ye haue enough: Goe (pretty Maid) stand close,
+
and vse that litle Tongue with a litle more temper.
I thanck ye (Sir)
when the Showes are past ye
I#'ll have ye in to th' Cellar, there wee#'ll dine
(a very pretty Wench: a witty Rogue)
and there wee#'ll be as merry: Can ye be merry?
O; verie merry, (Sir)
onely ourselues:
this churlish fellow shall not know:
by no meanes:
and can ye love a litle?
love exceedingly:
I haue cause to love you deare (Sir)
then I#'ll carry ye
and show ye all the Pictures, and the Hangings;
the Lodgings, Gardens, and the Walkes: And then (Sweet)
you shall tell me where you lye.
yes mary will I.
and#'t shall goe hard, but I#'ll send ye a Ven'son-#pastie,
and bring a Botle of wine along.+
*+
*
make roome there.
roome there afore:
stand close, the Traine is com$ming.
haue I yet left a Beutie, to cat$ch Fooles?
yet: yet I see him not: o what a miserie
+
is Love, expected long? Deluded, longer?
Conduct in the {Embassadors}.
make roome there.+
*+
*+
*+
*
they shall not wayt long answeare
yet he comes not:
why are eies sett on theis? and Multitudes
follow, to make {Theis}, wonders? O good Gods,
what would {Theis} looke like, if my {Loue} were heere?
but I am fond, forgetfull.
Now, your Greivances?
Then thus (Sir)
In all our roiall {Masters} names, we tell Ye
ye' haue don Iniustice, broke the Bonds of Concord,
and from their equall shares (from {Alexander}
parted, and so possessd) ye' haue hedg'd in
(not like a Brother, but an open Enemie)
whole {Prouinces}; Man'd, and maintaind theis Iniuries,
and daylie with your Sword, (though they still honor ye)
make bloody Roades, Take Townes, and ruyne Castles,
and still their sufferaunce feeles the waight.
We therefore,
as yet the Ministers of Peace, of Freindship,
as yet our {Masters} Swords, and Angers sleeping,
all former Iniuries forgot, and buried,
+
as yet to stop that swelling tide of Blood,
(O mightie Sir) that when it comes, like Tempests
broke from the raging North, beates all before 'em.
We yet crave restitution of those Lands,
those Citties sack'd, those {Prisoners}, and that {Prey},
the Soldiers, by your #will, stands Master of;
Thinck of that Love (Great Sir) that honor'd freindship,
you late held, with our {Masters}: Thinck of that Strength
when you were all one Body; all one Minde;
when all your Swords strooke one way; When your Angers
(like so many Brother-#Billowes) rose togeather,
and curling-#vp your foaming Crests, defide
even mightie Kings, and in their Falls entoombd 'em:
O thinck of theis; and you, that haue byn Conquerors,
that ever lead your Fortunes open eide,
chayn'd fast by Confidence; you that {Fame} courted:
now ye want Enemies, and Men, to match #'ye,
let not your owne Swords, seeke your Ends, to shame ye.
Choose which you will, or {Peace}, or {War}, (though+
rather
I could afford your Age, so much discretion
to leave off brawling now) The {Wars} are doubtfull,
and on Our {Horsemens} Staves, {Death} lookes as grimly
as on your keene-#edgd Swords: Our Darts sure pointed,