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Well. I think so:

You dare do any ill, yet want true valour

To be honest and repent.

Over. They are words I know not,

Nor e'er will learn. Patience, the beggar's virtue, Shall find no harbour here.-After these storms, At length a calm appears.

Enter GREEDY and Parson WELLDO. Welcome, most welcome!

There's comfort in thy looks; is the deed done? Is my daughter married? say but so, my chaplain, And I am tame.

Welldo. Married? yes, I assure you.

Over. Then vanish all sad thoughts! there's more gold for thee.

My doubts and fears are in the titles drowned Of my right honourable, right honourable daugh

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Well. As it appears,

You are so, my grave uncle.
Over. Village nurses

Revenge their wrongs with curses; I'll not waste
A syllable, but thus I take the life,
Which, wretch! I gave to thee.

[Offers to kill MARGARET. Lov. Hold, for your own sake! Though charity to your daughter hath quite left

you,

Will you do an act, though in your hopes lost here,

Can leave no hope for peace or rest hereafter?
Consider; at the best you're but a man,
And cannot so create your aims, but that
They may be cross'd.

Over. Lord! thus I spit at thee,
And at thy counsel; and again desire thee,
As thou art a soldier, if thy vaiour
Dares shew itself where multitude and example
Lead not the way, let's quit the house, and change
Six words in private.

Lov. I am ready.

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To urge you or to drown or hang yourself;
I'll do the like to him, if you command me.
Well. You are a rascal! he that dares be false
To a master, though unjust, will ne'er be true
To any other. Look not for reward

Or favour from me; I will shun thy sight
As I would do a basilisk's; thank my pity,

If thou keep thy ears: howe'er, I will take order
Your practice shall be silenced.

Greedy. I'll commit him,

If you will have me, sir.

Well. That were to little purpose;

His conscience be his prison. Not a word,
But instantly be gone.

Ord. Take this kick with you.

Amb. And this.

Furn. If that I had my cleaver here,

I would divide your knave's head.

Mar. This is the haven

False servants still arrive at.

Re-enter OVERREACH.

Lady. Come again!

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That I speak too; but there is something else [Exit. Beside the repossession of my land

Lov. Fear not, I am your guard.
Well. His looks are ghastly.
Welldo. Some little time I have spent, under
your favours,

In physical studies, and if my judgment err not,
He's mad beyond recovery: but observe him,
And look to yourselves.

Over. Why, is not the whole world Included in myself? to what use then

And payment of my debts, that I must practise.
I had a reputation, but 'twas lost
In my loose course; and, till I redeem it
Some noble way, I am but half made up.
It is a time of action; if your lordship
Will please to confer a company upon me,
In your command, I doubt not, in my service
To my king and country, but I shall do some-
thing

That may make me right again.
Lov. Your suit is granted,
And you loved for the motion.

Well. Nothing wants, then, [To the Audience. But your allowance-and, in that, our all Is comprehended; it being known, nor we, Nor he that wrote the comedy, can be free Without your manumission; which, if you Grant willingly, as a fair favour due

The poet's and our labours, as you may, (For we despair not, gentlemen, of the play) We jointly shall profess your grace hath might To teach us action, and him how to write. [Exeunt omnes.

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SCENE I.

ACT I.

Enter Mrs DAY, brushing her hoods and scarfs, Mrs ARBELLA, Mrs RUTII, Colonel BLUNT, and a Stage-coachman.

Mrs Day. Now, out upon't, how dusty 'tis ! All things consider'd, 'tis better travelling in the winter, especially for us of the better sort, that ride in coaches. And yet, to say truth, warm weather is both pleasant and comfortable: 'tis a thousand pities that fair weather should do any hurt.-Well said, honest coachman, thou hast done thy part! My son Abel paid for my place at Reading; did he not?

Coach. Yes, an't please you.

Mrs Day. Well, there's something extraordinary, to make thee drink.

Couch. By my whip, 'tis a groat of more than ordinary thinness.-Plague on this new gentry, how liberal they are. [Aside.] Farewell, young mistress; farewell, gentlemen. Pray, when you come by Reading, let Toby carry you. [Exit. Mrs Day. Why, how now, Mrs Arbella! What, sad! Why, what's the matter?

Arb. I am not very sad.

Mrs Day. Nay, by my honour, you need not, if you knew as much as I. Well I'll tell you one thing; you are well enough; you need not fear, whoever does; say I told you so- -if you do not hurt yourself; for as cunning as he is, and let him be as cunning as he will, I can see, with half an eye, that my son Abel means to take care of you in your composition, and will needs have you his guest. Ruth and you shall be bedfollows. I warrant, that same Abel many and many a time will wish his sister's place; or else his father ne'er got him-Though I say it, that should not say it, yet I do say it- -'tis a notable fellow

Arb. I am fallen into strange hands, if they prove as busy as her tongue. [Aside.

Mrs Day. And now you talk of this same Abel, I tell you but one thing::-- -I wonder that neither he nor my husband's honour's chief clerk, Obadiah, is not here ready to attend me. I dare warrant my son Abel has been here two hours before us; 'tis the veriest Princox; he will ever be gallopping, and yet he is not full oneand-twenty, for all his appearances. He never stole this trick of gallopping; his father was just such another before him, and would gallop with the best of 'em: he and Mrs Busie's husband were counted the best horsemen in Readingay, and Berkshire to boot. I have rode formerly behind ir Busie, but in truth I cannot now endure to travel but in a coach; my own is at pre

sent in disorder, and so I was fain to shift in this;-but I warrant you, if his honour, Mr Day, chairman of the honourable committee of sequestrations, should know that his wife rode în a stage-coach, he would make the house too hot for some. -Why, how is't with you, sir? What, weary of your journey? [To the Colonel.

Blunt. Her tongue will never tire. [Aside.]So many, mistress, riding in the coach, has a little distemper'd me with heat.

Mrs Day. So many, sir! why there were but six-What would you say if I should tell you that I was one of eleven that travell❜d at one time in one coach?

Blunt. O, the devil! I have given her a new theme. [Aside. Mrs Day. Why, I'll tell you-Can you guess how 'twas?

Blunt. Not I, truly. But 'tis no matter, I do believe it.

Mrs Day. Look you, thus it was: there was, in the first place, myself, and my husband I should have said first, but his honour would have pardon'd me if he had heard me; Mr Busie that I told you of, and his wife; the mayor of Reading and his wife; and this Ruth that you see there, in one of our laps-but now, where do you think the rest were?

Blunt. A top o' th' coach, sure.

Mrs Day. Nay, I durst swear you would never guess-why-would you think it; I had two growing in my belly, Mrs Busie one in hers, and Mrs Mayoress of Reading a chopping boy, as it proved afterwards, in hers, as like the father as if it had been spit out of his mouth; and if he had come out of his mouth, he had come out of as honest a man's mouth as any in forty miles of the head of him: for, would you think it? at the very same time, when this same Ruth was sick, it being the first time the girl was ever coach'd, the good man, Mr Mayor, I mean, that I spoke of, held his hat for the girl to ease her stomach in.

Enter ABEL and OBADIAH.

-O, are you come? Long look'd for comes at last. What you have a slow, set pace, as well as your hasty scribble, sometimes. Did you not think it fit that I should have found attendance ready for me when I alighted?

Ob. I ask your honour's pardon; for I do profess unto your ladyship, I had attended sooner, but that his young honour, Mr Abel, demurr'd me by his delays.

Mrs Day. Well, son Abel, you must be obey'd and I partly, if not quite, guess your business; providing for the entertainment of one I have

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