and evilly Planeted; whom Fortune beats moft, whom God hates moft, and all Societies efteem leaft, that Man is fure to be a Husband- -Such is the peevish Moon that rules your Bloods. An impudent Fellow beft woes you, a flattering Lip beft wins you, or in mirth, who talks roughlieft, is most fweeteft; nor can you diftinguish Truth from Forgeries, Mifts from Simplicity; witnefs thofe two deceitful Monsters, that you have entertain'd for Bridegrooms. Wid. Deceitful Pye. All will out. Cap. 'Sfoot, who was blab'd, George? that foolish Nicholas. Nob. For what they have befotted your eafie Blood withal, were nought but Forgeries, the Fortune-telling for Husbands, and the Conjuring for the Chain; Sir Godfrey heard the falfhood of all; nothing but meer Knavery, Deceit and Couzenage. Wid. O wonderful! indeed I wondred that my Huf band with all his Craft, could not keep himfelf out of Pur gatory. Sir God. And I more wonder, that my Chain should be gone, and my Taylor had none of it. Moll. And I wondred most of all, that I fhould be tied from Marriage, having fuch a mind to't; come Sir John Penny-Dub, fair Weather on our fide, the Moon has chang'd fince Yefternight. Pye. The fting of every evil is within me. Nob. And that you may perceive I feign not with you, behold their Fellow-actor in thofe Forgeries, who full of Spleen and Envy at their fo fudden Advancements, reveal'd all their Plot in anger. Pye. Bafe Soldier, to reveal us. Wid. Is't poffible we should be blinded fo, and our Eyes open? . Nob. Widow, will you now believe that falfe, which too foon you believ'd true? Wid. O, to my flame, I do. Sir God. But under favour, my Lord, my Chain was truly loft, and ftrangely found again. Nob. Refolve him of that, Soldier. Skir. In few words, Knight, then thou wert the ArchGull of all. Sir God. How, Sir? Skir. Nay I'll prove it: For the Chain was but hid in the Rosemary-bank all this while, and thou gotft him out of Prifon to Conjure for it, who did it admirably fuftianly, for indeed what needed any others, when he knew where it was? Sir God. O Villany of Villains! but how came my Chain there? Skir. Where's Truly la, indeed la? he that will not Swear, but Lye; he that will not Steal, but Rob: Pure Nicholas Saint Antlings. Sir God. O Villain! one of our Society, A Puritan, a Thief? when was't ever heard? Nich. Dear Master, oh. Nob. Nay Knight, dwell in patience. And now, Widow, being fo near the Church, 'twere great pity, nay uncharity, to fend you home again without a Hufband: Draw near, you of true Worship, State and Credit: That should not ftand fo far off from a Widow, and fuffer forged Shapes to come between you. Not that in these I blemish the true Title of a Captain, or blot the fair margent of a Scholar, for I honour worthy and deferving parts in the one, and cherish fruitful Virtues in the other. Come Lady, and you Virgin, bestow your Eyes and your pureft Affections, upon Men of Eftimation, both in Court and City, that have long woed you, and both with their Hearts and Wealth fincerely love you. Sir God. Good Sifter, do: Sweet little Frank thefe are Men of Reputation, you shall be welcome at Court; a great Credit for a Citizen, sweet Sifter. Nob. Come, her filence does consent to't. Wid. I know not with what Face. Nob. Pah, pah, with your own Face, they defire no other. Wid. Pardon me, worthy Sirs, I and my Daughter have wrong'd your Loves. Muck 'Tis eafily pardon'd, Lady, If you vouchsafe it now. Wid. With all my Soul. Fran. And I, with all my Heart. Moll. And I, Sir John, with Soul, Heart, Lights and all. What honeft Spirit, but will applaud your choice, |