Teague. Ever since I came here, and longer too, faith.

Care. What hast thou done since thou cam'st into England?

Teague. Serv'd Heaven, and St Patrick, and my good sweet king, and my good sweet master; yes, indeed.

Care. And what dost thou do now?
Teague. Cry for them every day, upon my soul.
Care. Why, where's thy master?

Teague. He's dead, mastero, and left poor Teague. Upon my soul, he never served poor Teague so before in all his life.

Care. Who was thy master?

Teague. E'en the good colonel Danger.
Care. He was my dear and noble friend.
Teague. Yes, that he was, and poor Teague's

Care. Poor fellow! I pity him: I fancy's he's simply honest.-Hast thou any trade?

Teague. Bo, bub bub bo! a trade, a trade! an Irishman with a trade! an Irishman scorns a trade; his blood is too thick for a trade. I will run for thee forty miles; but I scorn to have a trade.

Blunt. Alas, poor simple fellow !

Care. I pity him; nor can I endure to see any man miserable that can weep for my prince and friend. Well, Teague, what sayest thou if I will take thee?

Teague. Why, I say you could not do a better thing.

Care. Thy master was my dear friend; wert thou with him when he was kill'd?

Teague. Yes, upon my soul, that I was; and I did howl over him, and I ask'd him why he died, but the devil burn the word he said to me; and i'faith I staid kissing his sweet face, 'till the rogues came upon me, and took all away from me, and left me nothing but this mantle: I have never any victuals, neither, but a little snuff.

Care. Come, thou shalt live with me; love me as thou didst thy master.

Teague. That I will, if you will be good to poor Teague.

Care. Now, to our business; for I came but

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last night myself; and the lieutenant and I were just going to seek a solicitor.

Blunt. One may serve us all; what say you, lieutenant; can you furnish us?

Lieu. Yes, I think I can help you to plough with a heifer of their own.

Care. Now I think on't, Blunt, why didst thou not begin with the committee-man's cow?

Blunt. Plague on her, she lowbell'd me so, that I thought of nothing, but stood shrinking like a dar'd lark.

Lieu. But, hark you, gentlemen, there's an illtasting dose to be swallow'd first; there's a covenant to be taken.

Teague. Well, what is that covenant? By my soul I will take it for my new master.

Care. Thank thee, Teague.--A covenant, say'st thou?

Teague. Well, where is that covenant? Care. We'll not swear, lieutenant. Lieu. You must have no land, then. Blunt. Then, farewell acres, and may the dirt choak ’em.

Care. 'Tis but being reduced to Teague's equipage: 'twas a lucky thing to have a fellow that can teach one this cheap diet of snuff.

Teague. Oh, you shall have your bellyful of it.

Lieu. Come, gentlemen, we must lose no more time I'll carry you to my poor house, where you shall lodge: for, know, I am married to a most illustrious person, that had a kindness for

me.

Care. Pr'ythee, how didst thou light upon this good fortune?

Lieu. Why, you see there are stars in England, though none in Ireland. Come, gentlemen, time calls us; you shall have my story hereafter.

[Exeunt BLUNT and Lieutenant. Care. Come, Teague: however, I have suit of clothes for thee; thou shalt lay by thy blanket for some time. It may be, thee and I may be reduced together to thy country fashion. Teague. Upon my soul, joy, I will carry thee to my little estate in Ireland.

Care. Hast thou got an estate? Teague. By my soul, and I have: but the land is of such a nature, that if you had it for nothing, you would scarce make your money of it. Care. Why, there's the worst on't; the best will help itself. [Exeunt.

Enter Mr DAY and Mrs DAY. Mr Day. Welcome, sweet duck; I profess thou hast brought home good company, indeed; money and money's worth: if we can but now make sure of this heiress, Mrs Arbella, for our son Abel.

Mrs Day If we can! you are ever at your ifs, you're afraid of your shadow; I can tell you one if more, that is, if I did not bear you up, your heart would be down in your breeches at every turn. Well, if I were gone-there's another if for you.

Mr Day. I profess thou sayest true; I should

not know what to do indeed. I am beholden to thy good counsel for many a good thing; I had ne'er got Ruth, nor her estate, into my fingers else.

Mrs Day. Nay, in that business too, you were at your ifs. Now, you see she goes currently for our own daughter; and this Arbella shall be our daughter too, or she shall have no estate. Mr Day. If we could but do that, wife! Mrs Day. Yet again at your ifs?

Mr Day. I have done, I have done; to your counsel, good duck; you know I depend upon that.

Mrs Day. You may, well enough: you find the sweet on't; and, to say truth, 'tis known too well that you rely upon it. In truth, they are ready to call me the committee-man; they well perceive the weight that lies upon me, husband.

Mr Day. Nay, good duck, no chiding now, but to your counsel.

Mrs Day. In the first place, (observe how I lay a design in politics,) d'ye mark? counterfeit me a letter from the king, where he shall offer you great matters to serve him and his interest under-hand. Very good; and in it let him remember his kind love and service to me. This will make 'em look about 'em, and think you somebody. Then promise them, if they'll be true friends to you, to live and die with them, and refuse all great offers; then, whilst 'tis warm, get the composition of Arbella's estate into your own power, upon your design of marrying her to Abel.

Mr Day. Excellent.

Mrs Day. Mark the luck on't too; their names sound alike; Abel and Arbella, they are the same to a trifle; it seemeth a providence.

Mr Day. Thou observest right, duck, thou canst see as far into a millstone as another. Mrs Day. Pish! do not interrupt me. Mr Day. I do not, good duck, I do not. Mrs Day. You do not, and yet you do; you put me off from the concatenation of my discourse. Then, as I was saying, you may intimate to your honourable fellows, that one good turn deserves another. That language is understood amongst you, I take it, ha?

Mr Day. Yes, yes, we use those items often.
Mrs Day. Well, interrupt me not.
Mr Day. I do not, good wife.

Mrs Day. You do not, and yet you do. By this means get her composition put wholly into your hands; and then, no Abel, no land-But, in the mean time, I would have Abel do his part

too.

Mr Day. Ay, ay, there's a want; I found it. Mrs Day. Yes, when I told you so before. Mr Day. Why, that's true, duck, he is too backward; if I were in this place, and as young as I have been

Mrs Day. O, you'd do wonders! But, now I think on't, there may be some use made of Ruth; 'tis a notable witty harlotry.

Mr Day. Ay, and so she is, duck; I always thought so.

Mrs Day. You thought so, when I told you I had thought on't first.-Let me see-It shall be so; we'll set her to instruct Abel, in the first place, and then to incline Arbella; they are hand and glove; and women can do much with one another.

Mr Day. Thou hast hit upon my own thoughts. Mrs Day. Pray, call her in; you thought of that too, did you not?

Mr Day. I will, duck. Ruth! why, Ruth! Enter RUTH.

Ruth. Your pleasure, sir?

Mr Day. Nay, 'tis my wife's desire, that

Mrs Day. Well, if it be your wife's, she can best tell it herself, I suppose. D'ye hear, Ruth; you may do a business that may not be the worse for you. You know I use but few words.

Ruth. What does she call a few? [Aside. Mrs Day. Look you now, as I said, to be short, and to the matter; my husband and I do design this Mrs Arbella for our son Abel, and the young fellow is not forward enough. You conceive? Pr'ythee, give him a little instructions how to demean himself, and in what manner to speak, which we call address, to her; for women best know what will please women. Then, work on Arbella on the other side; work, I say, my poor girl; no more, but so. You know my custom is to use but few words. Much may be said in a little you sha'n't repent it.

Mr Day. And I say something too, Ruth. Mrs Day. What need you? Don't you see it all said already to your hand? What sayest thou, girl?

Ruth. I shall do my best-I would not lose the sport for more than I'll speak of.

[Aside. Mrs Day. Go, call Abel, good girl. [Exit RUTH.] By bringing this to pass, husband, we shall secure ourselves, if the king should come; you'll be hang'd else.

Mr Day. Oh, good wife, let's secure ourselves by all means. There's a wise saying: 'Tis good to have a shelter against every storm. I remem

ber that.

Mrs Day. You may well, when you have heard me say it so often.

Enter RUTH with ABEL. Mr Day. O, son Abel, d'ye hear

Mrs Day. Pray hold your peace, and give every body leave to tell their own tale--D'ye hear, son Abel, I have formerly told you that Arbella would be a good wife for you: a word's enough to the wise some endeavours must be used, and you must not be deficient. I have spoken to your sister Ruth, to instruct you what to say, and how to carry yourself; observe her directions, as you'll answer the contrary; be confident, and put home. Ha, boy, hadst thou but thy inother's pate! Well, 'tis but a folly to talk of that that cannot be! Be sure you follow your sister's directions.

Mr Day. Be sure, boy.—Well said, duck, I say. [Exeunt Mr and Mrs DAY. Ruth. Now, brother Abel. Abel. Now, sister Ruth. Ruth. Hitherto he observes me punctually. [Aside.] Have you a month's mind to this gentlewoman, Mrs Arbella ?

Abel. I have not known her a week yet. Ruth. O, cry you mercy, good brother Abel. Well, to begin then, you must alter your posture, and by your grave and high demeanour, make yourself appear a hole above Obadiah; lest your mistress should take you for such another scribble-scrabble as he is; and always hold up your head as if it were bolster'd up with high matters; your hands join'd flat together, projecting a little beyond the rest of your body, as ready to separate when you begin to open.

Abel. Must I go apace, or softly?

Ruth. O, gravely, by all means, as if you were loaded with weighty considerations-so-Very well. Now, to apply our prescription. Suppose, now, that I were your mistress, Arbella, and met you by accident-Keep your posture-so-and when you come just to me, start like a horse that has spy'd something on one side of him, and give a little gird out of the way, declaring that you did not see her before, by reason of your deep contemplations. Then you must speak. Let's

hear.

Abel. Save you, mistress.

Ruth. O, fie, man! you should begin thus: Pardon, mistress, my profound contemplations, in which I was so buried that I did not see you: -and then, as she answers, proceed. I know what she'll say, I am so used to her.

Abel. This will do well, if I forget it not.
Ruth. Well, try once.

Abel. Pardon, mistress, my profound contemplations, in which I was so hid, that you could

not see me.

Ruth. Better sport than I expected. [Aside. Very well done, you're perfect. Then she will answer,-Sir, I suppose you are so busied with state affairs, that it may well hinder you from taking notice of any thing below them.

Abel. No, forsooth, I have some profound contemplations, but no state affairs.

Ruth. O, fie, man! you must confess that the weighty affairs of state lie heavy upon you; but 'tis a burthen you must bear; and then shrug your shoulders.

Abel. Must I say so? I am afraid my mother will be angry, for she takes all the state matters upon herself.

Ruth. Pish! Did she not charge you to be ruled by me? Why, man, Arbella will never have you, if she be not made believe you can do great matters with parliament-men and committeemen: how should she hope for any good by you else in her composition?

Abel. I apprehend you now; I shall observe. Ruth. 'Tis well; at this time I'll say no more: ut yourself in your posture-so-Now go look

Arb. What dost thou laugh at, Ruth?
Ruth. Didst thou meet my brother Abel?
Arb. No.

Ruth. If thou hadst met him right, he had played at hard head with thee.

Arb. What dost thou mean?

Ruth. Why, I have been teaching him to woo, by command of my superiors; and have instructed him to hold up his head so high, that of necessity he must run against every thing that comes in his way.

Arb. Who is he to woo?

Ruth. Even thy own sweet self.
Arb. Out upon him.

Ruth. Nay, thou wilt be rarely courted; I'll not spoil the sport by telling thee any thing before-hand. They have sent to Lilly; and his learning being built upon knowing what most people would have him say, he has told them, for a certain, that Abel shall have a rich heiress; and that must be you.

Arb. Must be?

Ruth. Yes, committee-men can compel more than stars.

Arb. I fear this too late. You are their daughter, Ruth.

Ruth. I deny that.

Arb. How!

Ruth. Wonder not that I begin thus freely with you; 'tis to invite your confidence in me. Arb. You amaze me.

Ruth. Pray do not wonder, nor suspectWhen my father, Sir Basil Thoroughgood, died, I was very young, not above two years old: 'tis too long to tell you how this rascal, being a trustee, catch'd me and my estate, being the sole heiress unto my father, into his gripes; and now for some years has confirmed his unjust power by the unlawful power of the times. I fear they have designs as bad as this on you. You see I have no reserve, and endeavour to be thought worthy of your friendship.

Arb. I embrace it with as much clearness. Let us love and assist one another.---Would they marry me to this their first-born puppy?

Ruth. No doubt, or keep your composition from you.

Arb. 'Twas my ill fortune to fall into such hands, foolishly enticed by fair words and large promises of assistance. Ruth. Peace!

Enter OBADIAH.

Ob. Mrs Ruth, my master is demanding your company, together, and not singly, with Mis Arbella; you will find them in the parlour. The

committee being ready to sit, calls upon my care and circumspection to set in order the weighty matters of state for their wise and honourable inspection. [Exit. Ruth. We come. Come, dear Arbella, never be perplex'd; cheerful spirits are the best bladders to swim with: if thou art sad, the weight

SCENE I.

Enter TEAGUE.

will sink thee. Be secret, and still know me for no other than what I seem to be, their daughter. Another time thou shalt know all particulars of my strange story.

Arb. Come, wench; they cannot bring us to compound for our humours; they shall be free still." [Exeunt.

Teague. I'faith, my sweet master has sent me to a rascal; I have a great mind to go back and tell him so. He asked me, why he could not send one that could speak English. Upon my soul, I was going to give him an Irish knock. The devil's in them all, they will not talk with me. I will go near to knock this man's pate, and that man Lilly's pate too--that I will: I will teach them prat to me. [One cries books within.] How now, what noises are that?—

Enter Bookseller.

Book. New books, new books! A Desperate Plot and Engagement of the Bloody Cavaliers! Mr Saltmarsh's Alarum to the Nation, after having been three days dead! Mercurius Britannicus, &c. Teague. How's that? They cannot live in Ireland after they are dead three days!

Book. Mercurius Britannicus, or the Weekly Post; or, The Solemn League and Covenant. Teague. What is that you say? Is it the covenant you have?

Book. Yes; what then, sir? Teague. Which is that covenant? Book. Why, this is the covenant. Teague. Well, I must take that covenant. Book. You take my commodities? Teague. I must take that covenant, upon my soul now.

Book. Stand off, sir, or I'll set you further. Teague. Well, upon my soul now, I will take that covenant for my master.

Book. Your master must pay me for't then! Teague. I must take it first, and my master will pay you afterwards.

Book. You must pay me now

Teague. Oh, that I will—[Knocks him down.] Now you're paid, you thief o' the world. Here's covenants enough to poison the whole nation.

[Exit.

Book. What a devil ails this fellow? [Crying.] He did not come to rob me certainly, for he has not taken above two pennyworth of lamentable ware away; but I feel the rascal's fingers. I may light upon my wild Irishman again, and if I do, I will fix him with some catchpoles that shall be worse than his own country bogs. [Exit

Enter Colonel CARELESS, Colonel BLUNT, and Lieutenant STORY.

Lieu. And what say you, noble colonels? How, of Illustrious, from those illustrious commodities and how d'ye like my lady? I gave her the title which she deals in, hot waters and tobacco.

Care. Pr'ythee, how cam'st thou to think of marrying?

Lieu. Why, that which hinders other men from those venereal conditions prompted me to matrimony; hunger and cold, colonel.

Care. Which you destroyed with a fat woman, strong water, and stinking tobacco.

Lieu. No, faith; the woman conduced but little; but the rest could not be purchased without. Care. She's beholden to you.

ruined if it had not been for me. Lieu. For all your mocking, she had been

Care. Pr'ythee, make but that good.

Lieu. With ease, sir-Why, look you, you must know she was always a most violent cavalier, and of a most ready and large faith; abundance of rascals had found her soft place, and perpetually would bring her news, news of all prices; they would tell her news from half-acrown to a gill of hot water, or a pipe of the worst mundungus. I have observ'd their usual rates: they would borrow half-a-crown upon a story of five thousand men up in the north; a shilling upon a town's revolting; sixpence upon a small castle, and consume hot water and tobacco whilst they were telling news of arms conveyed into several parts, and ammunition hid in cellars; that, at the last, if I had not married, and blown off these flies, she had been absolutely consumed.

Care. Well, lieutenant, we are beholden to you for these hints; we may be reduced to as bad. See where Teague comes. Goodness, how he smiles! Why so merry, Teague?

Enter TEAGUE, smiling.

Teague. I have done a thing for you indeed.
Care. What hast thou done, man?
Teague. Guess.

Care. I cann't.

Teague. Why, then, guess again-I have taken the covenant.

Care. How came you by it?

Teague. Very honestly; I knocked a fellow down in the street, and took it from him.

Care. Was there ever such a fancy? Why, didst thou think this was the way to take the covenant?

Teague. I am sure it is the shortest and the cheapest way to take it.

Blunt. I am pleased yet with the poor fellow's mistaken kindness; I dare warrant him honest, to the best of his understanding.

Care. This fellow, I prophesy, will bring me into many troubles by his mistakes: I must send him on no errand but, How d'ye; and to such as I would have no answer from again.-Yet his simple honesty prevails with me; I cannot part with him.

Lieu. Come, gentlemen, time calls- -How now, who's this?

Enter OBADIAH, and four Persons_more, with Papers.

Care. I am a rogue if I have not seen a picture in hangings walk as fast.

Blunt. 'Slife, man, this is that good man of the committee family that I told thee of; the very clerk: how the rogue's loaded with papers!Those are the winding-sheets to many a poor gentleman's estate. 'Twere a good deed to burn them all.

Care. Why, thou art not mad?-Well met, sir; pray do not you belong to the committee of sequestrations?

Ob. I do belong to that honourable committee, who are now ready to sit for the bringing on the work.

Blunt. Oh, plague! what work, ras— Care. Pr'ythee be quiet, man.-Are they to sit presently?

Ob. As soon as I can get ready, my presence being material. [Exit.

Care. What, wert thou mad? Wouldst thou have beaten the clerk, when thou wert going to compound with the rascals, his masters?

Blunt. The sight of any of the villains stirs me. Lieu. Come, colonels, there's no trifling; let's make haste, and prepare your business; let's not lose this sitting. Come along, Teague. [Exeunt.

Enter ARBELLA at one door, ABEL at another, as if he saw her not, and starts when he comes to her, as RUTH had taught him. Arb. What's the meaning of this? I'll try to steal by him.

Abel. Pardon, mistress, my profound contemplations, in which I was so hid that you could not

Enter RUTH, as over-hearing them, and peeps, Ruth. This is lucky.

Abel. No, forsooth, 'twas I that was not to see you.

Arb. Why, sir, would your mother be angry if you should?

Abel. No, no, quite contrary-I'll tell you that presently; but first I must say, that the weighty affairs lie heavy upon my neck and shoulder. [Shrugs.

Arb. Would he were tied neck and heelsThis is a notable wench: look where the rascal peeps too; if I should beckon to her she'd take no notice; she is resolved not to relieve me.

[Aside.

Abel. Something I can do, and that with somebody; that is, with those that are somebodies.

Arb. Whist, whist. [Beckons to RUTH, and she shakes her head.] Pr'ythee, have some pity. O, unmerciful girl!

Abel. I know parliament-men, and sequestrators; I know committee-men, and committeemen know me.

Arb. You have great acquaintance, sir?

Abel. Yes, they ask my opinion, sometimesArb. What weather 'twill be. Have you any skill, sir?

Abel. When the weather is not good, we hold a fast.

Arb. And then it alters?

Abel. Assuredly.

Arb. In good time-No mercy, wench? Abel. Our profound contemplations are caused by the consternation of our spirits for the nation's good; we are in labour.

-Hark ye,

Arb. And I want a deliverance.Ruth, take off your dog, or I'll turn bear indeed. Ruth. I dare not; my mother will be angry. Arb. O, hang you.

Abel. You shall perceive that I have some power, if you please to

Arb. O, I am pleased, sir, that you should have power! I must look out my hoods and scarfs, sir: 'tis almost time to go.

Abel. If it were not for the weighty matters of state which lie upon my shoulders, myself would

look them.

Arb. O, by no means, sir; 'tis below your greatness-Some luck yet; she never came seasonably before.

Enter Mrs DAY.

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