HONOURED LADY,-In that age when wit and learning were not conquered by injury and violence, this poem was the object of love and commendations, it being composed by an infallible pen, and censured by an unerring auditory. In this epistle I shall not need to make an apology for plays in general, by exhibiting their antiquity and utility: in a word, they are mirrors or glasses which none but deformed faces, and fouler consciences fear to look into. The encouragement I had to prefer this dedication to your powerful protection proceeds from the universal fame of the deceased author, who (although he composed many) wrote none amiss, and this may justly be ranked among his best. I have redeemed it from the teeth of Time, by committing of it to the press, but more in imploring your patronage. I will not slander it with my praises, it is commendation enough to call it MASSINGER's; if it may gain your allowance and pardon, I am highly gratified, and desire only to wear the happy title of, Or there's no peace nor rest for him at home: I grant his state will bear it; yet he's censured For his indulgence, and, for sir John Frugal, By some styled sir John Prodigal. Trade. Is his brother, Master Luke Frugal, living? Gold. Yes; the more His misery, poor man! Trade. Still in the counter? Gold. In a worse place. He was redeem'd from the hole, To live, in our house, in hell; since, his base usage Trade. I wonder, being a scholar Well read, and travell'd, the world yielding means For men of such desert, he should endure it. Gold. He does, with a strange patience; and to The servants, so familiar, nay humble! [us, Mill. As I hope to see A country knight's son and heir walk bare before you When you are a countess, as you may be one When my master dies, or leaves trading; and I, continuing Your principal woman, take the upper hand L. Frug. I think I bear my years well. Mill. Why should you talk of years? Time hath not plough'd One furrow in your face: and were you not known The mother of my young ladies, you might pass For a virgin of fifteen. Trade. Here's no gross flattery! Will she swallow this? Gold. You see she does, and glibly. Mill. You never can be old; wear but a mask Forty years hence, and you will still seem young In your other parts. What a waist is here! O Venus! That I had been born a king! and here a hand L. Frug. These, indeed, wench, are not Mill. Ever, ever! Such a rare featured and proportion'd madam, L. Frug. Where are my shoes? Mill. Those that your ladyship gave order, Be made of the Spanish perfum❜d skins? [should L. Frug. The same. Mill. I sent the prison-bird this morning for But he neglects his duty. [them; Anne. He is grown Exceeding careless. Mary. And begins to murmur At our commands, and sometimes grumbles to us, He is, forsooth, our uncle! L. Frug. He is your slave, And as such use him. Anne. Willingly; but he's grown Gold. Nay, like hen, like chicken. Enter LUKE, with shoes, garters, fans and roses. Gold. Here he comes, sweating all over : He shews like a walking frippery. L. Frug. Very good, sir: Were you drunk last night, that you could rise no sooner, With humble diligence, to do what my daughters And woman did command you? Luke. Drunk, an't please you! L. Frug. Drunk, I said, sirrah! dar'st thou, in a look, Repine or grumble? Thou unthankful wretch, Luke. I confess I am, Enter HOLDFAST, and Porters with Baskets, &c. But now I fear it will be spent in poultry; L. Frug. Why, you rascal, is it At your expense? what cooks have you provided? Hold. The best of the city: they've wrought at my lord mayor's. SCENE II. The Street before FRUGAL's House. Enter Sir MAURICE LACY and Page. Sir Maur. You were with Plenty? Page. Yes, sir. Sir Maur. And what answer Return'd the clown? Page. Clown, sir! he is transform'd, And grown a gallant of the last edition; More rich than gaudy in his habit; yet The freedom and the bluntness of his language Continues with him. When I told him that You gave him caution, as he loved the peace And safety of his life, he should forbear To pass the merchant's threshold, until you, Of his two daughters, had made choice of her Whom you design'd to honour as your wife, He smiled in scorn. Sir Maur. In scorn! Page. His words confirm'd it; They were few, but to this purpose: Tell your master, Though his lordship in reversion were now his, Newly erected for the institution Of elder brothers; where they are taught the ways, Though they refuse to seal for a duellist, How to decline a challenge. He himself Can best resolve you. Walk into Moorfields I dare look on your Toledo. Do not shew A foolish valour in the streets, to make Work for shopkeepers and their clubs, 'tis scurvy, And the women will laugh at us. Sir Maur. You presume On the protection of your hinds. Though I keep men, I fight not with their fingers, The gallant's fashion, to have my family And those two sometimes hungry. I can feed these, Sir Maur. What a fine man Hath your tailor made you! Plenty. 'Tis quite contrary, I have made my tailor, for my clothes are paid for As soon as put on; a sin your man of title Is seldom guilty of; but Heaven forgive it! I have other faults, too, very incident With my neighbours in the country, and present not My pheasants, partridges, and growse to the usurer; Or statute lying on them. This I can do, Page. This is bitter. [Aside. Sir Maur. I have heard you, sir, and in my patience shewn Too much of the stoic. But to parley further, Plenty. Stir not, on your lives. Sir John. Hold, if you proceed thus, I must make use of the next justice' power, And leave persuasion; and in plain terms tell you, Enter Lady FRUGAL, Anne, MARY, and MILLISCENT. Neither your birth, sir Maurice, nor your wealth, Shall privilege this riot. See whom you have drawn To be spectators of it! can you imagine It can stand with the credit of my daughters, To be the argument of your swords! i' th' street Nay, ere you do salute, or I give way To any private conference, shake hands In sign of peace: he that draws back, parts with My good opinion. [They shake hands.] This is as it should be. [too? Make your approaches, and if their affection Can sympathise with yours, they shall not come On my credit, beggars to you. I will hear What you reply within. [Exeunt HoYST, PENURY, and FORTUNE. Heaven bless your honour! L. Lacy. Your hand, master Luke: the world's much changed with you Within these few months; then you were the gallant: Luke. I have paid dear For those follies, my good lord; and 'tis but justice L. Lacy. I nor do, nor will ; And you shall find I'll lend a helping hand To raise your fortunes: how deals your brother with you? Luke. Beyond my merit, I thank his goodness I am a free man, all my debts discharged; [for't. Nor does one creditor, undone by me, Curse my loose riots. I have meat and clothes, Time to ask heaven remission for what's past; Cares of the world by me are laid aside, My present poverty's a blessing to me; And though I have been long, I dare not say I ever lived till now. L. Lacy. You bear it well; Yet as you wish I should receive for truth Luke. In that, report Wrongs him, my lord. He is a citizen, L. Lacy. To my wish: I know no object that could more content me. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-A Counting-room in FRUGAL'S House. Enter Sir JOHN FRUGAL, HOYST, FORTUNE, Penury, and GOLDWIRE, Junior. Sir John. What would you have me do? reach me a chair. When I lent my monies I appear'd an angel; Hoyst. Were you the devil's dam, you must stay till I have it, For as I am a gentleman Re-enter LUKE, behind, with Lord Lacy, whom he places near the door. Luke. There you may hear all. Hoyst. I pawn'd you my land for the tenth part of the value : Now, 'cause I am a gamester, and keep ordinaries, 'Tis a hard case; you must give me longer day, Sir John. Fret, and spare not. Gold. Two hundred pounds: But to the pur[pose, His bond three times since forfeited. Sir John. Is it sued? For a good man! You were the glorious trader, To Ludgate in a citizen. Pray you acquaint me, On my calamity; though, being a debtor, And a slave to him that lends, I must endure it. Sir John. Suppose this true, What is't to me? I must and will have my money, Luke. [comes forward.] Not, as a brother, sir, but with such duty, As I should use unto my father, since Your charity is my parent, give me leave To speak my thoughts. Sir John. What would you say? Luke. No word, sir, I hope, shall give offence: nor let it relish Of flattery, though I proclaim aloud, I glory in the bravery of your mind, To which your wealth's a servant. Not that riches Sir John. I delight not To hear this spoke to my face. Luke. That shall not grieve you. In the garments of your [thankful] debtors' breath, L. Lacy. A rare fellow! I am strangely taken with him. Luke. Can you think, sir, In your unquestion'd wisdom, I beseech you, Hoyst. If it thrive with him, hang me, as it will If he be not converted. [damn him, Luke. You are too violent. Or that the ruin of this once brave merchant, L. Lacy. Our divines Luke. No, sir, but entreated Sir John. How, my good brother? Luke. By making these your beadsmen. When |