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thou couldst have thought of such a project? Martin said to his man, Who's the fool now?

Warn. Who's the fool! why, who uses to be the fool? he that ever was since I knew him, and ever will be so.

Sir Mart. What a pox! I think thou art grown envious; not one word in my commendation?

Warn. Faith, sir, my skill is too little to praise you as you deserve; but if you would have it according to my poor ability, you are one that had a knock in your cradle, a conceited lack-wit, a designing ass, a hair-brained fop, a confounded busybrain, with an eternal windmill in it; this, in short, sir, is the contents of your panegyric.

Sir Mart. But what the devil have I done, to set you thus against me?

Warn. Only this, sir: I was the foolish rascally fellow that was with Moody, and your worship was he to whom I was to bring his daughter.

Sir Mart. But how could I know this? I am no witch.

Warn. No, I'll be sworn for you, you are no conjurer. Will you go, sir?

Sir Mart. Will you hear my justification? Warn. Shall I see the back of you? speak not a word in your defence.

[Shoves him. Sir Mart. This is the strangest luck now

[Exit. Warn. I'm resolved this devil of his shall never weary me; I will overcome him, I will invent something that shall stand good in spite of his folly. Let me see

Enter Lord.

Lord. Here he is-I must venture on him, for the tyranny of this old lady is unsupportable; since I have made her my confident, there passes not an

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hour, but she passes a pull at my purse-strings; I shall be ruined if I do not quit myself of her suddenly I find, now, by sad experience, that a mistress is much more chargeable than a wife, and after a little time too, grows full as dull and insignificant. Mr Warner! have you a mind to do yourself a courtesy, and me another?

Warn. I think, my lord, the question need not be much disputed, for I have always had a great service for your lordship, and some little kindness for myself.

Lord. What if you should propose mistress Christian as a wife to your master? You know he's never like to compass t'other.

Warn. I cannot tell that, my lord.

Lord. Five hundred pounds are yours at the day of marriage.

Warn. Five hundred pounds! 'tis true, the temptation is very sweet and powerful; the devil, I confess, has done his part, and many a good murderand treason have been committed at a cheaper rate; but yet-

Lord. What yet?

Warn. To confess the truth, I am resolved to bestow my master upon that other lady (as difficult as your lordship thinks it), for the honour of my wit is engaged in it: Will it not be the same to your lordship, were she married to any other?

Lord. The very same.

Warn. Come, my lord, not to dissemble with you any longer, I know where it is that your shoe wrings you: I have observed something in the house, betwixt some parties that shall be nameless: And know, that you have been taking up linen at a much dearer rate, than you might have had it in any draper's in town.

Lord. I see I have not danced in a net before

you.

Warn. As for that old lady, whom hell confound, she is the greatest jilt in nature; cheat is her study; all her joy to cozen; she loves nothing but herself; and draws all lines to that corrupted centre.

Lord. I have found her out, though late: First, I'll undertake I ne'er enjoyed her niece under the rate of five hundred pounds a-time; never was woman's flesh held up so high: Every night I find out for a new maidenhead, and she has sold it me as often as ever Mother Temple, Bennet, or Gifford, have put off boiled capons for quails and partridges.

Warn. This is nothing to what bills you'll have when she's brought to bed, after her hard bargain, as they call it; then crammed capons, pea-hens, chickens in the grease, pottages, and fricasees, wine from Shatling, and La-fronds, with New River, clearer by sixpence the pound than ever God Almighty made it; then midwife-dry nurse-wet nurseand all the rest of their accomplices, with cradle, baby-clouts, and bearing-clothes-possets, caudles, broths, jellies, and gravies; and behind all these, glisters, suppositers, and a barbarous apothecary's bill, more inhuman than a tailor's.

Lord. I sweat to think on't.

Warn. Well, my lord, cheer up! I have found a way to rid you of it all; within a short time you shall know more; yonder appears a young lady, whom I must needs speak with; please you go in, and prepare the old lady and your mistress.

Lord. Good luck, and five hundred pounds attend thee.

Enter MILLISENT and ROSE above. Mill. I am resolved I'll never marry him.

[Exit.

Rose. So far you are right, madam.

Mill. But how to hinder it, I cannot possibly tell; for my father presses me to it, and will take no denial: Would I knew some way!

Warn. Madam, I'll teach you the very nearest, for I have just now found it out.

Rose. Are you there, Mr Littleplot?

Warn. Studying to deserve thee, Rose, by my diligence for thy lady; I stand here, methinks, just like a wooden Mercury, to point her out the way to matrimony.

Rose. Or, serving-man like, ready to carry up the hot meat for your master, and then to fall upon the cold yourself.

Warn. I know not what you call the cold, but I believe I shall find warm work on't: In the first place, then, I must acquaint you, that I have seemingly put off my master, and entered myself into Sir John's service.

Mill. Most excellent!

Warn. And thereupon, but base———

Enter MOODY.

Mill. Something he would tell us; but see what luck's here!

Mood. How now, sirrah? Are you so great there already?

Mill. I find my father's jealous of him still.

Warn. Sir, I was only teaching my young lady a new song, and if you please you shall hear it.

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Mood. Ods bobs, this is very pretty.

Mill. Ay, so is the lady's answer too, if I could but hit on't.

SINGS.

And when the stars twinkle so bright,
Then down to the door will I creep;
To my loce will I fly,

Eer the jealous can spy,

And leave my old daddy asleep.

Mood. Bodikins, I like not that so well, to cozen her old father: it may be my own case another time.

Rose. Oh, madam! yonder's your persecutor returned.

Enter Sir JOHN.

Mill. I'll into my chamber, to avoid the sight of him as long as I can. Lord! that my old doating father should throw me away upon such an ignoramus, and deny me to such a wit as Sir Martin.

[Exeunt MILL. and Rose from above. Mood. O, son! here has been the most villainous tragedy against you.

Sir John. What tragedy? Has there been any blood shed since I went?

Mood. No blood shed: but, as I told you, a most damnable tragedy.

Warn. A tragedy! I'll be hanged if he does not mean a stratagem.

Mood. Jack sauce! if I say it is a tragedy, it shall be a tragedy, in spite of you; teach your grandam how to piss. What! I hope I am old enough to spout English with you, sir.

Sir John. But what was the reason you came not after me?

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