make her a perfect dower:
No part of thy sweet goodness wanting to her.
I will not now Rosilla, ask thy fortunes,
Nor trouble thee with hearing mine;
Those shall hereafter serve to make glad hours
In their relation: All past wrongs forgot;
I'm glad to see you Gentlemen; but most,
That [it] is in my power to save your lives;
You say'd ours, when we were near starv'd at Sea,
And I despair not, for if she be mine,
Rosilla can deny Sebastian nothing.
Ros. She does give up her self,
Her power and joys, and all, to you,
To be discharged of 'em as too burthensom;
Welcome in any shape.
Seb. Sir, in your looks,
I read your sute of my Clarinda: she is yours:
And Lady, if it be in me to confirm
Your hopes in this brave Gentleman,
Presume I am your servant.
Alb. We thank you Sir.
Amin. Oh happy hour!
Alb. O my dear Aminta;
Now all our fears are ended.
Tib. Here I fix: she's mettle,
Steel to the back: and will cut my leaden dagger,
If not us'd with discretion.
Cro. You are still no changling.
Sebast. Nay,
All look chearfully, for none shall be
Deny'd their lawful wishes; when a while
We have here refresh'd our selves; we'll return
To our several homes; and well that voyage ends,
That makes of deadly enemies, faithful friends.
Wit at several weapons
Sir Perfidious Oldcraft, an old Knight, a great admirer of Wit.
Witty-pate Oldcraft, his Fathers own Son.
Sir Gregory Fopp, a witless Lord of Land.
Cunningham, a discreet Gen. Sir Gregories comrade and supplanter.
Sir Ruinous Gentry, a decayed Knight,} Two sharking
Priscian, a poor Scholar,} companions.
Pompey Doodle, a clown, Sir Gregories man, a piece of puff-paste, like his Master.
Mr. Credulous, Nephew to Sir Perfidio[u]s, a shallow-brain'd Scholar.
Neece to Sir Perfidious, a rich and witty Heir.
Lady Ruinous, Wife to Sir Ruinous.
Guardianess, to Sir Perfidious his Neece, an old doting Crone.
Mirabell, the Guardianesses Neece.
Actus Primus. Scæna Prima
Witty.
Sir, I'm no boy, I'm deep in one and twenty,
The second years approaching.
Old K. A fine time
For a youth to live by his wits then I should think,
If e'er he mean to make account of any.
Witty. Wits, Sir?
Old K. I Wits Sir, if it be so strange to thee,
I'm sorry I spent that time to get a Fool,
I might have imploy'd my pains a great deal better;
Thou knowst all that I have, I ha' got by my wits,
And yet to see how urgent thou art too;
It grieves me thou art so degenerate
To trouble me for means, I never offer'd it
My Parents from a School-boy, past nineteen once,
See what these times are grown to, before twenty
I rush'd into the world, which is indeed
Much like the Art of swiming, he that will attain to't
Must fall plump, and duck himself at first,
And that will make him hardy and advent'rous,
And not stand putting in one foot, and shiver,
And then draw t'other after, like a quake-buttock;
Well he may make a padler i'th' world,
From hand to mouth, but never a brave Swimmer,
Born up by th' chin, as I bore up my self,
With my strong industry that never fail'd me;
For he that lies born up with Patrimonies,
Looks like a long great Ass that swims with bladders,
Come but one prick of adverse fortune to him
He sinks, because he never try'd to swim
When Wit plaies with the billows that choak'd him.
Witty. Why is it not a fashion for a Father, Sir,
Out of his yearly thousands to allow
His only Son, a competent brace of hundreds;
Or such a toy?
Old K. Yes, if he mean to spoil him,
Or mar his wits he may, but never I,
This is my humor, Sir, which you'll find constant;
I love Wit so well, because I liv'd by't,
That I'll give no man power out of my means to hurt it,
And that's a kind of gratitude to my raiser,
Which great ones oft forget; I admire much
This Ages dulness, when I scarce writ man,
The first degree that e'er I took in thriving,
I lay intelligencer close for wenching,
Could give this Lord or Knight a true Certificate
Of all the Maiden-heads extant, how many lay
'Mongst Chambermaids, how many 'mongst Exchange [Wenches,]
Though never many there I must confess
They have a trick to utter Ware so fast;
I knew which Lady had a mind to fall,
Which Gentlewoman new divorc'd, which Tradesman breaking,
The price of every sinner to a hair,
And where to raise each price; which were the Tearmers,
That would give Velvet Petticoats, Tissue Gowns,
Which Pieces, Angels, Suppers, and Half Crowns;
I knew how to match, and make my market.
Could give intelligence where the Pox lay leidger,
And then to see the Letchers shift a point,
'Twas sport and profit too; how they would shun
Their ador'd Mistriss