only laid out of the way some one or two days.

NICHOLAS.
Aye, that would be good indeed, Kinsman.

PYE. For I have a farder reach to profit us better by the missing on't only, than if we had it out-right, as my discourse shall make it known to you.—When thou hast the chain, do but convey it out at back-door into the Garden, and there hang it close in the Rosemary bank but for a small season; and by that harmless device, I know how to wind Captain Idle out of prison: the Knight thy Master shall get his pardon and release him, and he satisfy thy Master with his own chain, and wondrous thanks on both hands.

NICHOLAS.
That were rare indeed, la: pray, let me know how.

PYE. Nay, tis very necessary thou shouldst know, because thou must be employed as an Actor.

NICHOLAS.
An Actor? O no, that's a Player; and our Parson rails again
Players mightily, I can tell you, because they brought him
drunk up'oth Stage once,—as he will be horribly drunk.

CORPORAL.
Mass, I cannot blame him then, poor Church-spout.

PYE.
Why, as an Intermedler, then?

NICHOLAS.
Aye, that, that.

PYE. Give me Audience, then: when the old Knight thy Master has raged his fill for the loss of the chain, tell him thou hast a Kinsman in prison, of such exquisite Art, that the devil himself is French Lackey to him, and runs bare-headed by his horse-belly (when he has one) whom he will cause with most Irish Dexterity to fetch his chain, tho twere hid under a mine of sea-coal, and ne'er make Spade or Pickaxe his instruments: tell him but this, with farder instructions thou shalt receive from me, and thou shoust thy self a Kinsman indeed.

CORPORAL.
A dainty Bully.

SKIRMISH.
An honest Book-keeper.

CAPTAIN.
And my three times thrice honey Cousin.

NICHOLAS. Nay, grace of God, I'll rob him on't suddenly, and hang it in the Rosemary bank; but I bear that mind, Cousin, I would not steal any thing, me thinks, for mine own Father.

SKIRMISH.
He bears a good mind in that, Captain!

PYE.
Why, well said; he begins to be an honest felow, faith.

CORPORAL.
In troth, he does.

NICHOLAS. You see, Cousin, I am willing to do you any kindness, always saving my self harmless.

[Exit Nicholas.]

CAPTAIN.
Why, I thank thee; fare thee well, I shall requite it.

CORPORAL. Twill be good for thee, Captain, that thou has such an egregious Ass to thy Cousin.

CAPTAIN. Aye, is he not a fine fool, Corporal? But, George, thou talkst of Art and Conjuring; How shall that be?

PYE.
Puh, be't not in your care:
Leave that to me and my directions.
Well, Captain, doubt not thy delivery now,
E'en with the vantage, man, to gain by prison,
As my thoughts prompt me: hold on, brain and plot!
I aim at many cunning far events,
All which I doubt not but to hit at length.
I'll to the Widdow with a quaint assault.
Captain, be merry.

CAPTAIN.
Who, I? Kerrie, merry, Buff-Jerkin.

PYE. Oh, I am happy in more slights, and one will knit strong in another.—Corporal Oath.

CORPORAL.
Hoh, Bully?

PYE.
And thou, old Peter Skirmish; I have a necessary task for you
Both.

SKIRMISH.
Lay't upon, George Pye-board.

CORPORAL.
What ere it be, we'll manage it.

PYE. I would have you two maintain a quarrel before the Lady Widdow's door, and draw your swords i'th edge of the Evening; clash a little, clash, clash.

CORPORAL.
Fuh!
Let us alone to make our Blades ring noon,
Tho it be after Supper.

PYE. I know you can. And out of that false fire, I doubt not but to raise strange belief—And, Captain, to countenance my device the better, and grace my words to the Widdow, I have a good plain Satin suit, that I had of a young Reveller t'other night: for words pass not regarded now a days, unless they come from a good suit of clothes, which the Fates and my wits have bestowed upon me. Well, Captain Idle, if I did not highly love thee, I would ne'er be seen within twelve score of a prison, for I protest at this instant, I walk in great danger of small debts; I owe money to several Hostesses, and you know such Jills will quickly be upon a man's Jack.

CAPTAIN.
True, George.

PYE.
Fare thee well, Captain. Come, Corporal and Ancient! thou
Shalt hear more news next time we greet thee.

CORPORAL. More news! Aye, by yon Bear at Bridge-Foot in heaven shalt thou.

[Exeunt Pye-board, Skirmish, and Oath.]

CAPTAIN.
Enough: my friends, farewell.
This prison shows as if Ghosts did part in Hell.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A room in the widow's house.

[Enter Moll youngest Daughter to the Widdow: alone.]

MOLL. Not Marry? forswear Marriage? why, all women know 'tis as honorable a thing as to lie with a man; and I to spite my Sisters vow the more, have entertained a suitor already, a fine gallant Knight of the last Feather: he says he will Coach me too, and well appoint me, allow me money to Dice with-all, and many such pleasing protestations he sticks upon my lips; indeed, his short-winded Father ith' Country is wondrous wealthy, a most abominable Farmer, and therefore he may doote in time: troth, I'll venture upon him. Women are not without ways enow to help them-selves: if he prove wise and good as his word, why, I shall love him, and use him kindly: and if he prove an Ass, why, in a quarter of an hour's warning I can transform him into an Ox;—there comes in my Relief again.

[Enter Frailty.]

FRAILTY.
O, Mistress Moll, Mistress Moll.

MOLL.
How now? what's the news?

FRAILTY.
The Knight your suitor, sir John Penny-Dub—

MOLL.
Sir John Penny-Dub? where? where?

FRAILTY.
He's walking in the Gallery.

MOLL.
Has my Mother seen him yet?

FRAILTY.
O no, she's—spitting in the Kitchen.

MOLL.
Direct him hither softly, good Frailty,—
I'll meet him half way.

FRAILTY. That's just like running a Tilt; but I hope he'll break nothing this time.

[Exit.]

[Enter Sir John Penny-Dub.]

MOLL.
'Tis happiness my Mother saw him not:
O welcome, good Sir John.

PENNY-DUB. I thank you, faith.—Nay, you must stand me, till I kiss you: 'tis the fashion every where, I-faith, and I came from Court enow.

MOLL.
Nay, the Fates forfend that I should anger the fashion!

PENNY-DUB. Then, not forgetting the sweet of new ceremonies, I first fall back, then recovering my self, make my honour to your lip thus: and then accost it.

MOLL.
Trust me, very pretty, and moving; y'are worthy on't, sir.

[Kissing: Enter Widdow and Sir Godfrey.]

O, my Mother, my Mother! now she's here, we'll steal into the Gallery.

[Exeunt.]

SIR GODFREY. Nay, Sister,