FALSO

Please me and please are your self, Thats my word. He will not, then what would you advise me to do therein? No by my faith: you shall not have me in that Trap: am I sworn Justice of Peace, and shall I give my warrant to fetch a man against his will? why there the peace is Broken, we must do all quietly, if he come he's well come, and as far as I can seeyet, he's a fool to be absent, I by this gold is he (which he gave me this morning) I say again please me and please your self, thats my word still. I, 'tis so common, 'tis the worse again, it the bet ter for me it otherwise. I cannot see yet, that it should be so— I see not a cross yet. Angels? isle not meddle with them, you give e'm to my wife not to me. But I pray tell me now, did the party Ʋ inam Voice, with his own mouth deliver that contempt, that that he would not appear, or did you but iestint? And do you think it stood with my credit to put up such and abuse? will he not appear says he? I'll make him appear with a Vengeance Latronello. Draw me a strong limbed warrant for the Gen tleman speedily, he will be bountiful to thee: go and thank him within. I, I prithee do. Two Angels one party, four another: and I think it a great spark of wisdom and policy (if a man come to me for Justice) first to know his griefs by his fees, which be light and which be he j: he may cou ̄ terfet else, & make me do Justice for nothing: I Like not that for when I mean to be joust, let me be paid well for't: the deed so rare, purges the bribe: how now, what's the news thou art come so hastily? how fares my Knightly Brother? Did he make such a godly end sayest thou? did he die so comfortably, and bequeathe all to me? What a precious joy and comfort's this, that a Justices brother can die so well, nay in such a good and happy memory, to make me full executor. Well he was too honest to live, and that made him die so soon: now I beshrew my heart, I am glad he's in heaven, has left all his cares and troubles with me, and that great vexa cion of telling of Money, yet I hope he had so much grace before he died to turn his white money into gold, a great ease to his Executor. Ah my sweet Niece, let me kiss thee, & drop a tear between thy lips: one tear from and old man is a great matter, the cocks of age are dry, thou hast lost a virtuous father, to gain a notable uncle. Let they rest, let they rest. You're most welcome ere you begin sir. Good. Good i'faith, a well spoken Gentleman, you're not and Esquire sir? Not sir? more's the pity: by my faith better men then you are, but a great many worse: you see I have been a Scholar in my time, though I'm a Justice now: Niece you're most happily welcome, the charge of you is wholly and solely mine own: and since you are so for tunately come Niece, I'll rest a perpetual widower. You're most soberly welcome sir: daughter y'aue that you kneel for, rise, salute your weeping cozen. Daughter, what Gentleman might this be? Is he but a knight? troth, I would a sworn had been a Gentleman, to see, to see, to see. Why this is but the second time of your come ming Kinsman, visit me oftener, Daughter, I charge you bring this Gentleman along with you: Gentleman, I I cry ye mercy sir, I call you Gentleman still: I for get you're but a Knight, you must pardon me sir. I am no more i'faith. 'Tis quickly done sir, you see I make bold with you Kinsman, thrust my Daughter and you into one Chamber. I hear good commendations of you sir. You're welcome all over your body sir: nay, I can behave my self courtly, though I keep house 'ith Country: what, does my Niece hide herself, not pre sent, would? Latronello. Call my Niece to me. A foolish, coy, bashful thing it is, she's afraid to lie with her own Uncle: idem do her no harm i'faith, I keep my self a widower a purpose, yet the foolish Girl will not look into't, she should have all y faith, she knows I have but a time, cannot hold long, see where she comes, pray whom am I Niece? O am I so, it do's not appear so,—for surely you would love your Father's Brother for your Father's sake, your Uncle for your own sake. Nay you do nothing Niece. How should I know that love becomes me best? Honourable! it cannot become me then Niece. For'ime scarce worshipful: Is this and age, To entertain bore love without the fruits When I received thee first, I look't Thou shouldst have been a wife unto my house And saved me from the charge of marriage. Do you think your Father's five thousand pound would would made me take you else? no, you should near a would been a charge to me. As far as I can perceive yet by you, I've as much need to marry as ere I had: would not this be a great grief to your friends think you, if they were alive again? Y'aue confessed All about house, that young Fidelio Who in his Travails does attend the Prince, Is your vowed love. And what's a Husband is not a Husband a stram ̄ her at first, and will you lie with a stranger before you lie with your own Uncle? take heed what ye do Niece, I counsel you for the best: strangers are drunken fellows I can tell you, they will come home late a nights, beat their wives, and get nothing but Girls: look too't, if you marry, your stubborness is your Dowry: five thousand Crowns were bequeathed to you, true, if you marry with my consent: but if ere you go to marrying by my consent, isle go to hanging by your's: go too be wise and love your Uncle. Why now you come to me Niece: if your Un cle be partly of your own flesh and blood, is it not then fit your own flesh and blood should come nearest to you? answer me to that Niece. Very good, a my troth my Niece is Valiant, sha's made me richer by five thousand Crowns, the price of her Dowry: are you so honest, I do not fear but I shall have the Conscience to keep you poor y nough Niece, or else I am quite altered a late—The News, may it please you sir? A Law-driuer, prithee driven him hither. What, old Seigneur Tangle! My old master of Fence: come, come, come, I have not exercised this twelve Moons, I have almost forgotten all my Law-weapons. I hope so: when there? The Rapler and Dagger foils instantly: and whats thy suit to me old Tangle, isle grant it pre sently. The more shame for e'm, what was his offence I pray? What, what! alas poor Knave, give me the Pa per, he did but save the Churchwardens a labour: come, come, he has done a better deed in't then the parish is a aware off, to prevent the Knaves, he robs but seldom, they once a quarter: me thinks it a partly of good joust ice, to hang e'm at years end, wen they come out of their office, to the true terrifying of all Collectors and Sidemen. A lass good man, he lets e'm alone for quietness sake, and takes half a share with e'm: they know well enough too, he ha and impediment in his tongue, he's always drunk when he should speak. So, so, heeres my hand to his commendations. Nay, if it be but a Vestry matter, visit me at any time, old Signeor Law-thistle! Oh well done, here are the Foils, come, come sir, isle try a Law-bout with you. 'Tis but for want of use then sir. That I can I hope, let me see, Longswoord, what's Longsword? I am so dulled with doing justice, that I have forgotten all i'faith. Mass that swords long enough indeed, I would known it reach the length of fifteen Terms. Me thinks 'tis long enough, proceed sir. Scandals are back-swords indeed O Desperate! A writ of Execution, Rapier and Dagger. Thou art come to our present weapon, but what call you sword and Buckler then? Indeed since sword and buckler time, I have observed, there ha been nothing so much fighting: where be all our gallant Swaggerers? there are no good frays alate. Thou sayest true i'faith, they would be but ill fa vouredly looked to then. I expect you sir. Your Attorney wants a little oiling, me thinks, he looks very Rustily. Not in the vacation. Then Jove will not be at leisure to scour him, because he ere came to him before. Very good sir. You speak sentences sir—by this time have I tried my friends, and now I thrust in bail— Byr'lady then 'ime Like to lie by it, I had rather it a hundred that were. I must ward my self as well as I may sir. You shall have no Advantage yet, I put in my Answer. I follow the suit still sir. I Like not this Court byr'lady—I: take me out a writ of Remove, a writ of Remove, do you see sir? And place my cause higher. O! Oh Villain! O! reach me thy hand, I never had such and oh uerthrowe in my life. Pox on him, he fell out of my hand when I had most need of him, Thou couldst do no less then overthrown me, I must needs say so. And now by'th mass I think I shall hardly recover without cost. Well, it shall teach me wit as long as I am a Justice: I perceive by this trial, if a man have a found fallen in Law, he shall feel it in his bones all his life after. Why Latronello, Furtiuo, Fucato, where be these lazy knaves that should truss me, not one stirring yet? What news there? Hark you sluggish Soporiferous villains, ther's knaves abroad when you are a bed, are you not a shamed on't, a Justices men should be up first, and give example all knaves. Thou Latronello, thou liest, my men scorn to have beards. How now? Nay, he shall find me—apt enough to do him good I warrant him. 'Sfoot what, should he do here else? there's no coming to me in a true on: if he had one,—the slave to be taken: do not I keep Geldings swift enough? Which did the whoreson knave ride upon? Upon Stand and Deliver: the very Gelding I choose for mine own riding, as nimble as Pegasus the flying horse yonder: go shift your selves into your coats, bring hither a great chair, and a little table. And Latronello. Fit you down, & very soberly take the examna cion. Pox on him again, would he be taken? he frets me: I have been a youth my self, I would seen the day I could have told money out of other men's purses (Mass so I can do now) nor will I keep that fellow about me that dares not bid a man stand: for as long as drunken ness is a vice, stand is a virtue: but I would not have they taken. I remember now betimes in a morning I would have peeped through the green boughs, & have had the party presently, and then to ride away sinelye in fear, it even Venery to me i'faith, the pleasantest course of life, one would think every Woodcok a Con stable, and every Owl and officer, but those days are passed with me: and a my troth I think I am a greater thief now, and in no danger: I can take my ease, fit in my Chair, look in your faces now, and rob you, make you bring your money by authority put off your hat, and thank me for robbing of you, Oh there is nothing to a thief under Covert Bairn. Nay, I see thee through thy false beard, thou mid-winde chinde Rascal, How now my Masters, whats he? would? Thou hast left thy wont else Constable. But I scare understand you sir. Such another word, and you shall change places with the Thief. Now I have you, proceed sir. What are become of the other two, Latronello, and Fuca? Latronello. Take his examination. Let the Knave stand single. Ha been a suitor at Court sure, he thanks me for nothing. That we must know of him, what are you sir? By my troth a pretty phrase and very cleanly handled, put it down Latronello: thou mayest make use on't. Is he of honour or worship whom thou servest? Why would one wish a man to speak better? Say you so sir, then weel try him farther, — Do's your right worshipful master, go before you, as and ensample of Vice, and so encourage you to this slin king iniquity? he is not a Lawer, is he? You write all down Latronello. Hum. I Like him for one quality, he speaks well of his master, he will fare the better:—Now sir, let me touch you, Why, serving a Gentleman of such worship and wisdom, such sobriety and virtue, such discretion and judgement as your master is, do you take such a beastly course, to stop horses, hinder Gentlewomen from their meetings, and make Citizens never ride but a Sundays, only to avoid Morning prayer and you: is it because your worshipful Ma. feeds you with lean spits, pays you with Irish money, or clothes you in northern doze ̄ S? Receiving then such plenteous blessings from your virtuous and bountiful master, what cause have you to be thief now? answer me to that gear: How sir? Since you have no pity I will be cruel. You shall appear to morrow sirs. Have I found thee i'faith? I thought where I should smell thee out old Tangle. Hear me old Tangle. I must use some of thy counsel first. My Niece is stolen away. A ne exeat Regno, isle about it presently,—adue. Falso my Lord, Justice Falso, i'm known by that name. I hope so my Lord, my name is in all the Records I can assure your good grace. Ah. How? what make I here? I my good Lord, For fault of a better. Cuds me! By my troth as true as can be, but he shall not know on't. Can a man do nothing i'the Country but 'tis told at Court? there's some busy informing knave a broad, a my life. 'Slid I was afraid of nothing, but that for my thee very, and bawdry I should have been turned to and In keeper: my daughter, I am ashamed her worship should see me. Why sir? How sir? Would he die so Like a Politician, & not once write his mind to me? I make my brother (says he) full and whole Ex ecutor, honestly done of him i'faith, seldom can a man get such a brother: and here again says he, very virtue ously, I bequeathe all to him and his disposing: and excel lent fellow a my troth, would you might all die no worse, Gentlemen. If she marry by your consent, choice and liking make her dowry five thousand crowns: hum, five thou sand crowns? therefore by my consent she shall never marry, I will neither choose for her, Like of it, nor con sent too't. Thy husbands brother: speak certainly prithee. I'll swear then he is his brother indeed, & by the surer side: I crave hearty pardon sweet kinsman that thou hast stood so long unsaluted in the way of kindred. Welcome to my board: I have a bed for thee, My daughters husbands brother shall command, Keys of my Chests and Chambers.— I have stable for thy horse, chamber for thy self, and a loft abou for thy lousy lackey, all fit, away with handkirchers, dry up eyes, at funeral we must cry: now let's be wise. It falls sweetly. You must thank your good friends then sir. Thieves, my two hand sword, ime robbed 'ith Hall, Latronello, Knaves, come down, my two hand sword I A pox on him for a lazy knave, would he be taken? Pity he's thief i'faith, I should entertain him else. A my troth, a fine knave, & ha answered me glow riously, what wages wilt thou take after thou art would ̄ g'd? He says true too yfayth, for we are all full of cor ruption here,—hark you my friends. By my troth if you were no crueler then I, I could find in my heart to let him go. Nay I did but to try you, if you have no pity, I'll would none, away he's a Thief, to prison with him. Are you content, bring him back, nay then you shall not go. I'll be as cruel as you can wish: you're content, be Like you have a trick to break prison, or a bribe for the Officers. For you sir? what colour's silver I pray, you never saw money in your life:—I'll not trust you with him, La tronello and Fucato, lay hold upon him, to your charge I commit him. Nay if I must be cruel, I will be cruel. You desire that —I'll trust no prison with you, I'll make you lie in mine own house, or I'll know why I shall not. You shall be hanged out a'th way, away with him Latronello, and Fucato,—Officers I discharge you my house, I Like not your company. Report me as you see me, fire and fuel, If men be Jews, Justices must be cruel. Justice my Lord, I have my Niece stolen from me Sh'as left her Dowry with me, but she's gone, Idem rather have had her love then her money I, This, this, is one of them, Justice my Lord: I know him by his face, this is the Thief. I'll be her warrant my Lord. 'Sfoot, worse then I was before I kneeled, I am no Justice now, I know I shall be some Innkeeper at last. I'm a beggar now, worse then and Innkeeper. True, true sir, Daughter receive your blessing— take heed the Coach iopper not to much have a care to the fruits of your body—look to her Kinsman.