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Sir, I must leave you.

Geraldine. Leave with me first some comfort.
Gartred. What would you crave?

Geraldine. That, which I fear you will not let me have. Gartred. You do not know my bounty. Say what 'tis? Geraldine. No more, fair creature, than a modest kiss. Gartred. If I should give you one, would you refrain, On that condition, ne'er to beg again?

Geraldine. I dare not grant to that.
Gartred. Then't seems you have,

Tho' you get nothing, a delight to crave.
One will not hurt my lip, which you may take,
Not for your love, but for your absence sake.
So farewel, sir.

[Exit Gartred.
Geraldine. O! fare thee well, fair regent of my soul!
Never let ill sit near thee, unless it come
Το purge itself. Be, as thou ever seemest,
An angel of thy sex, born to make happy
The man that shall possess thee for his bride.
Enter SPENDALL and LONGFIELD.

Spendall. Will you have it for thirteen shillings and six-pence? I'll fall to as low a price as I can, because I'll buy your custom.

Longfield. How now, man? what! intranced?
Geraldine. Good sir, ha' you done?

Longfield. Yes, faith, I think as much as you, and 'tis just nothing. Where's the wench?

Geraldine. She's here, sir, here.

Longfield. Uds pity! unbutton, man, thou'lt stifle her

else.

Geraldine. Nay, good sir, will you go?

Longfield. With all my heart; I stay but for you.
Spendall. Do you hear, sir?

Longfield. What say you

?

Spendall. Will you take it for thirteen ?

Longfield. Not a penny more than I bid

[Exeunt Geraldine and Longfield.

Spendall. Why then, say you might have had a good bargain. Where's this boy to make up the wares? here's some ten pieces open'd, and all to no purpose.

Enter Boy.

Boy. O Frank! shut up shop, shut up shop.
Spendall. Shut up shop, boy, why?

Boy. My master is come from the court, knighted, and bid us; for he says he will have the first year of the reign of his knighthood kept holiday

comes.

Enter Sir LIONEL RASH.

Spendall. God give your worship joy, sir.

here he

Sir Lionel Rash. O Frank! have the worship now in the right kind; the sword of my knighthood sticks still upon my shoulders, and I feel the blow in my purse; it has cut two leather bags asunder. But all's one, honour must be purchased. I will give over my city coat, and betake myself to the court jacket. As for trade, I will deal in't no longer; I will seat thee in my shop, and it shall be thy care to ask men what they lack: my stock shall be summ'd up, and I will call thee to an account for it.

Spendall. My service, sir, never deserv'd so much; Nor could I ever hope so large a bounty Could spring out of your love.

Sir Lionel Rash. That's all one.

I do love to do things beyond men's hopes..
To-morrow I remove into the Strand,

There for this quarter dwell, the next at Fulham;
He that hath choice may shift; the whilst shalt thou
Be master of this house, and rent it free.

Spendall. I thank you, sir.

Sir Lionel Rash. To-day I'll go dine with my Lord Mayor, to-morrow with the sheriffs, and next day with the aldermen. I will spread the ensign of my knighthood over the face of the city, which shall strike as great a terror to my enemies as ever Tamerlane to the Turks.

Come, Frank, come in with me, and see the meat,
Upon the which my knighthood first shall eat.
[Exeunt omnes.

Enter STAINES.

Staines. There is a devil has haunted me these three

2

years, in likeness of a usurer; a fellow that in all his life never eat three groat loaves out of his own purse, nor ever warmed him but at other men's fires; never saw a joint of mutton in his own house these four and twenty years, but always cozen'd the poor prisoners, for he always bought his victuals out of the alms-basket; and yet this rogue now feeds upon capons, which my tenants send him out of the country; he is landlord, forsooth, over all my possessions.-Well, I am spent, and this rogue has consum'd me. I dare not walk abroad to see my friends, for fear the serjeants should take acquaintance of me: my refuge is Ireland, or Virginia necessity cries out, and I will presently to West Chester.

Enter BUBBLE.

How now, Bubble! hast thou pack'd up all thy things? Our parting-time is come: nay, pr'ythee do not weep. Bubble. Affection, sir, will burst out.

Staines. Thou hast been a faithful servant to me. Go to thy uncle, he'll give thee entertainment: tell him, upon the stony rock of his merciless heart my fortunes suffer shipwreck.

Bubble. I will tell him he is an usuring rascal, and one that would do the commonwealth good, if he were hang'd.

Staines. Which thou hast cause to wish for; thou art his heir, my affectionate Bubble.

Bubble. But, master, wherefore should we be parted? Staines. Because my fortunes are desperate, thine are hopeful.

Bubble. Why, but whither do you mean to go, master?

Staines. Why, to sea.

Bubble. To sea! Lord bless us, methinks I hear of a tempest already. But what will you do at sea? Staines. Why, as other gallants do that are spent, turn pirate.

2 Ireland or Virginia.] At the time this play was written, the same endeavours were used, and the same lures thrown out, to tempt adventurers to migrate to each of these places.

Bubble. O master have the grace of Wapping before your eyes, remember a high tide;* give not your friends cause to wet their handkerchiefs. Nay, master, I'll tell you a better course than so: you and I will go and rob my uncle; if we 'scape, we'll domineer together; if we be taken, we'll be hang'd together at Tyburn, that's the warmer gallows of the two. Enter MESSENGER.

Messenger. By your leave, sir, whereabouts dwells one Mr. Bubble?

Bubble. Do you hear, my friend; do you know Mr. Bubble if you do see him?

Messenger. No, in truth, do I not.

Bubble. What is your business with Master Bubble? Messenger. Marry, sir, I come with welcome news to him.

Bubble. Tell it, my friend, I am the man.

Messenger. May I be assur'd, sir, that your name is Master Bubble?

Bubble. I tell thee, honest friend, my name is Master Bubble, Master Bartholomew Bubble.

Messenger. Why then, sir, you are heir to a million; for your uncle, the rich usurer, is dead.

Bubble. Pray thee, honest friend, go to the next haberdasher's, and bid him send me a new melancholy hat, and take thou that for thy labour. Messenger. I will, sir.

[Exit.

Enter another MESSENGER hastily, and knocks.
Bubble. Umh, umh, umh.

* Pirates are always hanged at Execution Dock, Wapping; and at the moment when the tide is at the height. S.

The following passage is from Stow's Survey, vol. II.B. 4. p. 87.

Edit. 1720.

"From this precinct of Saint Katherine to Wappin in the "Wose, and Wappin itself, the usual place of execution for hang"ing of pirates and sea rovers at the low water mark, there to re"main till three tides had overflowed them, was never a house standing within these forty years (i. e. from the year 1598), "but (since the gallows being after removed further off) is now a "continual street, or rather a filthy straight passage, with lanes "and alleys of small tenements or cottages, inhabited by sailors “and victuallers along by the river Thames almost to Radcliffe, "a good mile from the Tower."

Staines. I would the news were true: see how my little Bubble is blown up with't!

Bubble. Do you hear, my friend; for what do you knock there?

2d Messenger. Marry, sir, I would speak with the worshipful Master Bubble.

Bubble. The worshipful! and what would you do with the worshipful Master Bubble? I am the man.

2d Messenger. I cry your worship mercy then: Master Thong the belt-maker sent me to your worship, to give you notice, that your uncle is dead, and that you are his only heir.

[Exit. Bubble. Thy news is good, and I have look'd for't long;

Thanks unto thee, my friend, and goodman Thong.
Enter Mr. BLANK.

Staines. Certainly this news is true; for see, another : by this light, his scrivener !--- Now, Master Blank, whither away so fast?

Blank. Master Staines, God save you: Where is your man?

Staines. Why, look you, sir; do you not see him? Blank. God save the right worshipful Master Bubble; I bring you heavy news with a light heart.

Bubble. What are you?

Blank. I am your worship's poor scrivener.

Bubble. He is an honest man, it seems, for he hath both his ears.

Blank. I am one that your worship's uncle committed some trust in for the putting out of his money, and I hope I shall have the putting out of your's.

Bubble. The putting out of mine! Would you have the putting out of my money?

Blank. Yea, sir..

Bubble. No, sir, I am old enough to put out my own money.

Blank. I have writings of your worship's.

Staines. As thou lov'st thy profit, hold thy tongue; thou and I will confer.

Bubble. Do you hear, my friend; can you tell me when, and how, my uncle died?

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