let Reason rule you, do not play the fool; stand not in your own light. You have wealthy offers, large tendrings; do not with-stand your good fortune: who comes a wooing to you, I pray? no small fool; a rich Knight ath City, Sir Oliver Muck-Hill—no small fool I can tell you: and Furthermore, as I heard late by your Maid-servants, (as your Maid-servants will say to me any thing, I thank 'em) both your Daughters are not without Suitors, aye, and worthy ones too! one a Brisk Courtier, Sir Andrew Tip-Staff, suitor a far off to your eldest Daughter, and the third a huge-wealthy Farmer's son, a fine young Country Knight, they call him Sir John Penny-Dub: a good name, marry; he may have it coined when he lacks money. What blessings are these, Sister!

WIDDOW.
Tempt me not, Satan.

SIR GODFREY. Satan? do I look like Satan? I hope the Devil's not so old as I, I tro.

WIDDOW.
You wound my senses, Brother, when you name
A suitor to me:—oh, I cannot abide it,
I take in poison, when I hear one nam'd.

[Enter Simon.]

How now, Simon? where's my son Edmund?

SIMON.
Verily Madame, he is at vain Exercise, dripping in the
Tennis-court.

WIDDOW. At Tennis-court? oh, now his father's gone, I shall have no rule with him; oh, wicked Edmond, I might well compare this with the Prophecy in the Chronicle, tho far inferior: as Harry of Monmouth won all, and Harry of Windsor lost all; so Edmund of Bristow, that was the Father, got all, and Edmond of London, that's his son now, will spend all.

SIR GODFREY. Peace, Sister, we'll have him reformed, there's hope on him yet, tho it be but a little.

[Enter Frailty.]

FRAILTY. Forsooth, Madam, there are two or three Archers at door would very gladly speak with your Ladyship.

WIDDOW.
Archers?

SIR GODFREY.
Your husband's Fletcher, I warrant.

WIDDOW.
Oh!
Let them come near, they bring home things of his.
Troth, I should ha forgot 'em. How now, Villain?
Which be those Archers?

[Enter the suitors Sir Andrew Tip-staff, Sir Oliver Muck-hill, and Penny-dub.]

FRAILTY. Why, do you not see 'em before you? are not these Archers? what do you call 'em? Shooters: Shooters and Archers are all one, I hope.

WIDDOW.
Out, ignorant slave.

MUCK-HILL.
Nay, pray be patient, Lady,
We come in way of honorable love.

TIP-STAFF.
We do.

PENNY-DUB.
We do.

MUCK-HILL.
To you.

TIP-STAFF.
And to your Daughters.

PENNY-DUB.
And to your Daughters.

WIDDOW. O, why will you offer me this Gentlemen? indeed I will not look upon you—when the Tears are scarce out of mine Eyes, not yet washt off from my Cheeks, and my deer husband's body scarce so cold as the Coffin, what reason have you to offer it? I am not like some of your Widdows that will bury one in the Evening, and be sure to another ere morning. Pray, away; pray, take your answers, good Knights, and you be sweet Knights. I have vow'd never to marry;—and so have my daughters too!

PENNY-DUB.
Aye, two of you have, but the third's a good wench!

MUCK-HILL. Lady, a shrewd answer, marry; the best is, tis but the first, and he's a blunt wooer, that will leave for one sharp answer.

TIP-STAFF. Where be your daughters, Lady? I hope they'll give us better encouragements.

WIDDOW. Indeed, they'll answer you so; tak't a my word, they'll give you the very same answer Verbatim, truly la.

PENNY-DUB.
Mum: Moll's a good wench still, I know what she'll do.

MUCK-HILL. Well, Lady, for this time we'll take our leaves, hoping for better comfort.

WIDDOW. O never, never! and I live these thousand years! and you be good Knights, do not hope; twill be all Vain, Vain,—look you, put off all your suits, and you come to me again.

[Exeunt Sir John and Sir Andrew.]

FRAILTY. Put off all their suits, quatha? Aye, that's the best wooing of a Widdow, indeed, when a man's Nonsuited; that is, when he's a bed with her.

[Going out, Muck-hill and Sir Godfrey.]

MUCK-HILL. Sir Godfrey, here's twenty Angels more: work hard for me; there's life int yet.

[Exit Muck-hill.]

SIR GODFREY. Fear not, Sir Oliver Muck-hill, I'll stick close for you; leave all with me.

[Enter George Pye-board, the scholar.]

PYE.
By your leave, Lady Widdow.

WIDDOW.
What, another suitor now?

PYE.
A suitor! no, I protest, Lady, if you'd give me your self,
I'd not be troubled with you.

WIDDOW.
Say you so, Sir? then you're the better welcome, sir.

PYE. Nay, Heaven bless me from a Widdow, unless I were sure to bury her speedily!

WIDDOW.
Good bluntness: well, your business, sir?

PYE.
Very needful; if you were in private once.

WIDDOW.
Needful? brother, pray leave us; and you, sir.

FRAILTY. I should laugh now, if this blunt fellow should put 'em all by side the stirrup, and vault into the saddle himself. I have seen as mad a trick.

[Exit Frailty.]

[Enter Daughters.]

WIDDOW.
Now Sir?—here's none but we—Daughters, forbear.

PYE. O no, pray, let 'em stay, for what I have to speak importeth equally to them as to you.

WIDDOW.
Then you may stay.

PYE.
I pray bestow on me a serious ear,
For what I speak is full of weight and fear.

WIDDOW.
Fear?

PYE. Aye, ift pass unregarded, and uneffected; Else peace and joy:—I pray, Attention. Widdow, I have been a mere stranger for these parts that you live in, nor did I ever know the Husband of you, and Father of them, but I truly know by certain spiritual Intelligence, that he is in Purgatory.

WIDDOW. Purgatory? tuh; that word deserves to be spit upon. I wonder that a man of sober tongue, as you seem to be, should have the folly to believe there's such a place.

PYE. Well, Lady, in cold blood I speak it; I assure you that there is a Purgatory, in which place I know your husband to reside, and wherein he is like to remain, till the dissolution of the world, till the last general Bon-fire, when all the earth shall melt into nothing and the Seas scald their finny labourers; so long is his abidance, unless you alter the property of your purpose, together with each of your Daughters theirs; that is, the purpose of single life in your self and your eldest Daughter, and the speedy determination of marriage in your youngest.

MOLL.
How knows he that? what, has some Devil told him?

WIDDOW. Strange he should know our thoughts:—Why, but, Daughter, have you purposed speedy Marriage?

PYE. You see she tells you aye, for she says nothing. Nay, give me credit as you please. I am a stranger to you, and yet you see I know your determinations, which must come to me Metaphysically, and by a super-natural intelligence.

WIDDOW.
This puts Amazement on me.

FRANCES.
Know our secrets!