But such a moonling, as no wit of man,
Or roses can redeem from being an ass.
He's grown too much the story of men's mouths,
To scape his lading: should I make't my study,
And lay all ways, yea, call mankind to help
To take his burden off; why, this one act
Of his, to let his wife out to be courted,
And at a price, proclaims his asinine nature
So loud, as I am weary of my title to him.
But, sir, you seem a gentleman of virtue,
No less than blood; and one that every way
Looks as he were of too good quality,
To intrap a credulous woman, or betray her.
Since you have paid thus dear, sir, for a visit,
And made such venture on your wit and charge
Merely to see me, or at most, to speak to me,
I were too stupid, or, what's worse, ingrate
Not to return your venture. Think but how
I may with safety do it, I shall trust
My love and honour to you, and presume
You'll ever husband both, against this husband;

* But such a moonling, as no wit of man,

Or roses can redeem from being an ass.] Here is an allusion to the metamorphosis of Lucian into an ass; who being brought into the theatre to shew tricks, recovered his human shape, by eating some roses which he found there. See the conclusion of the treatise, Lucius, sive Asinus. I am afraid that many of the audience, in our author's days, were not apprised of these allusions. WHAL.

It might be so and yet I suspect that, generally speaking, the audience then had more literature than the dramatic writers

themselves now possess. The age was credulous, but not uninformed, at least in classical matters. Other requisites than ignorance and impudence were then required in dramatic writers; and, indeed, with a solitary exception or two, all of them had received an university education.

Moonling, which occurs in this line, is a pretty expression for a fool or lunatic, which should not have been suffered to grow obsolete.

Who, if we chance to change his liberal ears
To other ensigns,' and with labour make
A new beast of him, as he shall deserve,
Cannot complain he is unkindly dealt with.
This day he is to go to a new play, sir,
From whence no fear, no, nor authority,
Scarcely the king's command, sir, will restrain
him,

Now you have fitted him with a stage-garment,
For the mere name's sake, were there nothing

else;

And many more such journeys he will make;
Which, if they now, or any time hereafter,
Offer us opportunity, you hear, sir,

Who'll be as glad and forward to embrace,
Meet, and enjoy it cheerfully, as you.

[Shifts to his own place again.

I humbly thank you, lady

Fitz. Keep your ground, sir.
Wit. Will you be lighten'd?
Fitz. Mum.

Wit. And but I am,

By the said contract, thus to take my leave of you
At this so envious distance, I had taught
Our lips ere this, to seal the happy mixture
Made of our souls: but we must both now yield
To the necessity. Do not think yet, lady,
But I can kiss, and touch, and laugh, and whisper,
And do those crowning courtships too, for which
Day, and the public, have allow'd no name;
But now, my bargain binds me. 'Twere rude injury
To impórtune more, or urge a noble nature,
To what of its own bounty it is prone to:
Else I should speak- -But, lady, I love so well,
As I will hope you'll do so too. I have done, sir.
to change his liberal ears

9

To other ensigns,] i. e. to horns, the insignia of a cuckold..

Fitz. Well, then I have won ?

Wit. Sir, and I may win too.

Fitz. O yes! no doubt on't. I'll take careful order,

That she shall hang forth ensigns at the window,
To tell you when I am absent! Or I'll keep
Three or four footmen, ready still of purpose,
To run and fetch you at her longings, sir!
I'll go bespeak me straight a gilt caroch,
For her and you to take the air in: yes,
Into Hyde-park, and thence into Blackfriars,
Visit the painters, where you may see pictures,
And note the properest limbs, and how to make
them!

Or what do you say unto a middling gossip,*
To bring you ay together, at her lodging,
Under pretext of teaching of my wife

Some rare receipt of drawing almond-milk, ha? It shall be a part of my care. Good sir, God be wi' you!

I have kept the contract, and the cloke's mine

own.

Wit. Why, much good do't you, sir: it may

fall out,

That you have bought it dear, though I've not

sold it. [Exit. Fitz. A pretty riddle! fare you well, good sir. Wife, your face this way; look on me, and think

You had a wicked dream, wife, and forget it. Man. This is the strangest motion I e'er saw. [Exit. Fitz. Now, wife, sits this fair cloke the worse upon me

1 Or what do you say unto a middling gossip?] A go between, an internuntia, as the Latin writers would have called her. WHAL.

For my great sufferings, or your little patience, ha? They laugh, you think?

Mrs. Fitz. Why, sir, and you might see't. What thought they have of you, may be soon

collected

By the young gentleman's speech.

Fitz. Young gentleman!

Death, you are in love with him, are you? could he not

Be named the gentleman, without the young? Up to your cabin again.

Mrs. Fitz. My cage, you were best

To call it.

Fitz. Yes, sing there. You'd fain be making Blanc-manger with him at your mother's!

know you.

Go, get you up.—

I

[Exit Mrs. Fitz.

Enter PUG.

How now! what say you, Devil?

Pug. Here is one Engine, sir, desires to speak

with you.

Fitz. I thought he brought some news of a broker! well,

Let him come in, good Devil; fetch him else.

Re-enter ENGINE.

[Exit Pug.

O, my fine Engine! what's the affair, more cheats? Eng. No, sir, the wit, the brain, the great projector,

I told you of, is newly come to town.
Fitz. Where, Engine?

Eng. I have brought him (he's without)
Ere he pull'd off his boots, sir; but so follow'd
For businesses!

Fitz. But what is a projector?

I would conceive.

Eng. Why, one, sir, that projects

Ways to enrich men, or to make them great,
By suits, by marriages, by undertakings:
According as he sees they humour it.
Fitz. Can he not conjure at all?

Eng. I think he can, sir,

To tell you true. But you do know, of late,

The state hath ta'en such note of 'em, and compell'd 'em

To enter such great bonds, they dare not practise. Fitz. 'Tis true, and I lie fallow for't the while! Eng. O, sir, you'll grow the richer for the rest. Fitz. I hope I shall: but, Engine, you do talk Somewhat too much o' my courses: my cloke

customer

Could tell me strange particulars.

Eng. By my means?

Fitz. How should he have them else?
Eng. You do not know, sir,

What he has; and by what arts: a money'd man, sir,
And is as great with your almanack-men as you

are.

Fitz. That gallant!

Eng. You make the other wait too long here; And he is extreme punctual.

Fitz. Is he a gallant?

Eng. Sir, you shall see: he's in his riding suit, As he comes now from court: but here him speak; Minister matter to him, and then tell me. [Exeunt