734these Archers, what do you call'em Shooters: Shooters

735and Archers are all one I hope.

736Wid. Out ignorant slave.

737Muck. Nay, pray be patient Lady,

738We come in way of honorable love.

739Tipst. Penny. We do.

740Muck. To you.

741Tipst. Penny. And to your Daughters.

742Wid.O why will you offer me this, Gentlemen? in-

743deed I will not look upon you; when the tears are scarce

744out of mine eyes, not yet washt off from my cheeks, and

745my deer husbands body scarce so cold as the Coffin, what

746reason have you to offer it? I am not like some of your

747Widows that will bury one in the evening, and be sure

748to another ere morning; pray away, pray take your an-

749swers good Knights, and you be sweet Knights, I have

750vow'd never to marry;---and so have my daughters too!

751Penny. I, two of you have, but the third's a good wench!

752Muck. Lady, a shrewd answer marry; the best is, 'tis

753but the first, and he's a blunt wooer, that will leave for

754one sharp answer.

755Tip. Where be your Daughters Lady, I hope they'll

756give us better encouragements?

757Wid. Indeed they'll answer you so, take't a my word

758they'll give you the very same answer Verbatim truly la.

759Penny. Mum: Moll's a good wench still, I know what

760she'll do?

761Muck. Well, Lady, for this time we'll take our leaves,

762hoping for better comfort.

763Wid. O never, never: and I live these thousand years;

764and you be good Knights, do not hope; 'twill be all Vain,

765Vain,----look you put off all your suits, and you come to

766me again.

767Frail. Put of all their suits, quatha? I that's the best

768wooing of a Widdow indeed, when a man's Nonsuted,

769that is, when he's a bed with her.

771Muck. Sir Godfrey? here's twenty Angels more, work

773Sir Godf. Fear not Sir Oliver Muckhill, I'le stick

774close for you, leave all w

ith me.

776Pye. By your leave Lady Widow.

777Wid. What another suiter now?

778Pye. A suiter, no, I protest Lady? if you'd give me

779your self, I'de not be troubled with you.

780Wid. Say you so Sir, then you're the better welcome sir.

781Pye. Nay, Heaven blesse me from a Widow, unlesse I

782were sure to bury her speedily!

783Wid. Good bluntnesse: well, your businesse, si?

784Pye. Very needfull; if you were in private once.

785Wid. Needfull? Brother, pray leave us; and you sir.

786Frail. I should laugh now, if this blunt fellow should

787put'em all beside the stirrop, and vault into the saddle

790Wid. Now Sir?---here's none but wee----Daughters

791forbear.

792Pye. O no, pray let'em stay, for what I have to speak

793importeth equally to them as you?

794Wid. Then you may stay.

795Pye. I pray bestow on me a serious ear,

796For what I speak is full of weight and fear.

797Wid. Fear?

798Pye. I, if't passe unregarded, and uneffected,

799Else peace and joy:---I pray Attention.

800Widow, I have been a meer stranger for these parts that

801you live in, nor did I ever know the Husband of you,

802and Father of them, but I truly know by certain spiritual

803Intelligence, that he is in Purgatory.

804Wid. Purgatory? tuh; that word deserves to be spit

805upon; I wonder that a man of sober tongue, as you seem

806to be, should have the folly to believe there's such a place.

807Pye. Well Lady, in cold bloud I speak it, I assure you

808that there is a Purgatory, in which place I know your

809husband to recide, and wherein he is like to remain, till

810the dissolution of the world, till the last general Bon-fire:

811when all the earth shall melt into nothing, and the Seas

812scald their finny labourers: so long is his abidance, un-

813lesse you alter the property of your purpose, together with

814each of your Daughters theirs, that is, the purpose of sin-

815gle life in your self and your eldest Daughter, and the

816speedy determination of marriage in your youngest.

817Moll. How knows he that, what, has some Devil told

818him?

819Wid. Strange he should know our thoughts:------

820Why but Daughter, have you purpos'd speedy Marriage?

821Pye. You see she tells you I, she sayes nothing.

822Nay, give me credit as you please, I am a stranger to you,

823and yet you see I know your determinations, which

824must come to me metaphisically, and by a super-natural

825intelligence.

826Wid. This puts amazement on me.

827Frank. Know our secrets?

828Mol. I'de thought to steal a marriage, would his tongue

829Had dropt out when he blab'd it.

830Wid. But sir, my husband was too honest a dealing

831man, to be now in any Purgatories-----

832Pye. O do not load your conscience with untruths,

833'Tis but meer folly now to gild'em ore:

834That has past but for Copper; Praises here,

835Cannot unbind him there: confesse but truth,

836I know he got his wealth with a hard gripe:

837Oh hardly, hardly.

838Wid. This is most strange of all, how knows he that?

839Pye. He would eat fools and ignorant heirs clean up;

840And had his drink from many a poor mans brow,

841Even as their labour brew'd it.

842He would scrape riches to him most unjustly;

843The very dirt between his nails was ill got

844And not his own,---oh

845I groan to speak on't, the thought makes me shudder!---

846shudder!

847Wid. It quakes me too, now I think on't---sir, I am

848much griev'd, that you a stranger, should so deeply wrong

849my dead husband!

850Pye-board. Oh?

851Wid. A man that would keep Church so duly; rise

852early before his servants, and e'en for Religious hast, go

853ungarter'd, unbutton'd, nay sir Reverence untrust, to

854Morning Prayer?

855Pye. Oh uff.

856Wid. Dine quickly upon high-dayes, and when I had

857great guesse, would e'en shame me, and rise from the Ta-

858ble, to get a good seat at an after-noon Sermon.

859Pye. There's the devil, there's the devil, true, he thought

860it Sanctity enough, if he had kill'd a man, so t'ad bin

861done in a Pue, or undone his Neighbour, so t'ad bin