And the tobacco ? Sub. Yes. Fac. Give me the keys. Del. Why you the keys! Sub No matter, Dol: because We shall not open 'em, before he comes. Fac. 'Tis true, you fhall not open them, indeed: 'Twixt Subtle, Dol and Face. All I can do Of fome course fuddenly to 'fcape the dock: For thither you will come elfe. Hark you, thunder. [Some knock. Sub. You are a precious fiend! Off. Open the door. Fac. Dol, I am forry for thee i'faith. But hearst thou? It fhall go hard, but I will place thee somewhere : Thou shalt ha' my letter to mistress Amo.. Dol. Hang you — Fac. Or madam Cæfarean 7. Dol. 6 Doctor, 'tis true (YOU LOOK) for all your figures.] i, e. You look to that I wrote on the margin of my book, Dollor, 'tis true (look you) for all your figures. Mr. UPTOR. This correction of Mr. Upton is eafy and ingenious, but I judge unneceflary: you look, means you look jurprized, and feem unwilling to believe it. A fimilar expreflion occurs at the conclufion of the Silent avoman ; "How now, gentlemen! do you look at me.” 7 Thou shalt ba' my letter to mifirefs Amo. Dol. Hang you Fac. Or madam CESAREAN.] The names of two bawds in our poet's Let's know where you fet up next: I'll fend you Sub. Rogue, I'll hang my felf: That I may walk a greater devil than thou, Love-wit, Officers, Mammon, Surly, Face, Kaftril, Ananias, Tribulation, Drugger, Dame Pliant. Lov. What do you mean, my masters ? Cheaters, bawds, conjurers. Off. Or we'll break it open. Lov. What warrant have you? Off. Warrant enough, fir, doubt not, If you'll not open it. Lov. Is there an officer, there? Off. Yes, two or three for failing. Fac. Sir, ha' you done? Is it a marriage? perfect? Fac. Off with your ruff and cloke then; be your Sur. Down with the door. Kaf. 'Slight, ding it open 3. [felf, fir. poet's time the laft feems to be mentioned in his epigrams; : "And madam Cefar, great Proferpina, "Is now from home," The Voyage. She is called madam Augufla at the beginning of this play; the 4to calls her madam Imperial. 8 'Slight, DING it open.] Break it open. Ding is ufed in the Scotch poets in the fame fenfe; and as Mr. Upton also says, it is yet fo used in the weft of England. I 2 Lov. Lov. Hold, Hold gentlemen, what means this violence? Sur. And my captain Face? Mam. Thefe day-owls. Sur. That are birding in mens purfes. Kaf. Doxy, my fifter. Ana. Locufts Of the foul pit. Tri. Prophane as Bel and the dragon: [Egypt. Ana. Worfe than the grafhoppers, or the lice of Lov. Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers, And cannot stay this violence? Off. Keep the peace. Lov. Gentlemen, what is the matter? whom do you Mam. The chemical cozener. Sur. And the captain pander. Kaf. The nun my fufter. Mam. Madam Rabbi. Ana. Scorpions, And caterpillars. Lov. Fewer at once, I pray you. [feek? Off. One after another, gentlemen, I charge you, By virtue of my staff Ana. They are the veffels Of pride, luft, and the cart. Lov. Good zeal, lie ftill, A little while. Tri. Peace, deacon Ananias. Lov. The house is mine here, and the doors are open: If there be any fuch perfons as you feek for, Ufe your authority, fearch on o' God's name: I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult 'bout my door (to tell you true) It fomewhat maz'd me; 'till my man, here, (fearing My more displeasure) told me he had done Some Somewhat an infolent part, let out my house From any air o' the town, while there was fickness) Mam. Are they gone? [They enter. Lov. You may go in and fearch, fir. Here, I find The empty walls worfe than 1 left 'em, fmok'd, A few crack'd pots, and glaffes, and a fornace; The ceiling fill'd with poefies of the candle: And madam, with a dildo, writ o' the walls. Only one gentlewoman, I met here, That is within, that faid fhe was a widow Kaf. I, that's my fufter. I'll go thump her. Where [is fhe? Lov. And fhould ha' married a Spanish count, but he, When he came to't, neglected her fo grofly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her. Lov. Were you the don, fir? Good faith, now, fhe do's blame yo' extremely, and fays Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, Mam. The whole neft are fled! Lov. What fort of birds were they? Mam. A kind of choughs, [Mammon comes forth. Or thievish daws, fir, that have pickt my purse Of eight-fcore and ten pounds, within these five weeks, Befide my first materials; and my goods, That lie i'the cellar, which I am glad they ha' left, I 3 I may I may have home yet. Lov. Think you so, fir? Mam. I. Lov. By order of law, fir, but not otherwise. Lov. Sir, I can take no knowledge, If you can bring certificate, that you were gull'd of 'em, Or any formal writ out of a court, That you did cozen your felf, I will not hold them. Mam. I'll rather lofe 'em. Lov. That you shall not, fir, By me, in troth. Upon thefe terms they are yours. What, should they ha' been, fir, turn'd into gold all? Mam. No, I cannot tell. It may be they fhould. What then? Lov. What a great lofs in hope have you fuftain'd? Mam. Not I, the common-wealth has. Fac. I, he would ha' built The city new; and made a ditch about it Of filver, fhould have run with cream from Hogfden; Sur. Muft I needs cheat my self, With that fame foolish vice of honefty! Come, let us go, and hearken out the rogues. [They come forth. Tri. 'Tis well, the faints fhall not lofe all yet. Go, And get fome carts |