for a 'squire

virtue,

I bring to your acquaintance, Tub of Totten. 'Squire Tub, my master, loves all men of [on you. And longs (as one would zay) till he be one Cle. His worship's wel'cun to our company: Would 't were wiser for 'un.

Pan. Here be some on us

Are call'd the witty men over a hundred. Scri. And zome a thousand, when the muster-day comes.

Tub. I long (as my man Hilts said, and my governor)

To be adopt in your society.

Can any man make a masque here i' this company?

Pan. A masque ! what's that? Scri. A mumming or a shew, With vizards and fine clothes.

Cle. A disguise, neighbour,

Is the true word: there stands the man can do't, sir:

Medlay the joiner, In-and-in of Islington,
The only man at a disguise in Middlesex.
Tub. But who shall write it?

Hil. Scriben the great writer.

Scri. He'll do't alone, sir; he will join with no man :

Though he be a joiner, in design he calls it, He must be sole inventer. In-and-in

This very day. I'ld have it in Tubs Hall, At Totten-Court, my lady mother's house; My house indeed, for I am heir to it.

Med. If I might see the place, and had survey'd it,

I could say more; for all invention, sir, Comes by degrees, and on the view of nature,

A world of things concur to the design, Which makes it feasible, if art conduce. Tub. You say well, witty Mr. In-and-in. How long ha' you studied ingine?

Med. Since I first

[year. Join'd, or did in-lay in wit, some vorty Tub. A pretty time! Basket, go you and

wait

On master In-and-in to Totten-Court, And all the other wise masters, shew 'em the hall,

And taste the language of the buttery to'em. Let 'em see all the tubs about the house, That can raise matter, till I come-which shall be

Within an hour at least.

Cle. It will be glorious,

If In-and-in will undertake it, sir: He has a monstrous Medlay-wit o' his own. Tub. Spare for no cost, either in boards or hoops, [cooper, To architect your tub: ha' you ne'er a At London, call'd Vitruvius? send for him; Or old John Haywood, call him to you, to help. [alone.

Scri. He scorns the motion, trust to him

And your fair Mrs. Awdrey?

Tub. I not see 'em,

No creature but the four wise masters here, Of Finsbury hundred, came to cry their constable,

Who, they do say, is lost,

D. Tur. My husband lost,

And my fond daughter lost? I fear me too.
Where is your gentleman, madam ? poor
John Clay,

Thou hast lost thy Awdrey.
Clay. I ha' lost my wits,

My little wits, good mother; I'm distracted.
Pup. And I have lost my mistress Dido
Wispe,

Who frowns upon her Puppy, Hannibal. Loss! loss on every side! a public loss ! Loss o' my master! loss of his daughter! loss Of favour, friends, any mistress! loss of all! Pre. What cry is this?

Tur. My man speaks of some loss. Pup. My master's found: good luck, and't be thy will,

Light on us all.

D. Tur. O husband, are you alive? They said you were lost.

Tur. Where's justice Bramble's clerk ? Had he the money that I sent for? D. Tur. Yes,

Two hours ago, two fifty pounds in silver, And Awdrey too.

Tur. Why, Awdrey? who sent for her? D. Tur. You, master Turfe, the fellow said.

Tur. He lied.

I am cozen'd, robb'd, undone, your man's a thief,

[ble,

And run away with my daughter, Mr. BramAnd with my money.

Lady. Neighbour Turfe, have patience;
I can assure you that your daughter's safe,
But for the monies, I know nothing of.
Tur. My money is my daughter, and my
daughter

She is my money, madam.
Pre. I do wonder

Your ladyship comes to know any thing
In these affairs.

Lady. Yes, justice Bramble,

I met the maiden i' the fields by chance,
I' the 'squire's company, my son: how he
Lighted upon her, himself best can tell.

Tub. I intercepted her as coming hither,
To her father, who sent for her by Miles
Metaphor,
[dyship

Justice Bramble's clerk. And had your laNot hinder'd it, I had paid fine Mr. justice For his young warrant, and new purs'yvant, He serv'd it by this morning..

Pre. Know you that, sir?

Lady. You told me, 'squire, a quite other tale;

But I believ'd you not, which made me

send

Awdrey another way by my Pol-Martin: And take my journey back to Kentish-town,

Where we found John Clay hidden i' the

barn,

To 'scape the hue and cry: and here he is. Tur. John Clay agen! nay, then-set cock-a-hoop:

I ha' lost no daughter, nor no money, justice. John Clay shall pay. I'll look to you now, John. [ing Vaith, out it must, as good as night at mor I am e'en as vull as a piper's bag with joy, Or a great gun upon carnation-day! I could weep lions tears to see you, John. 'Tis but two vifty pounds I ha' ventur'd for fdred. But now I ha' you, you shall pay whole bun Run from your burrows, son! faith, e'en be hang'd.

you:

An' you once earth yourself, John, i the

barn,

['un I ha' no daughter vor you: who did verre D. Tur. My lady's son, the 'squire here, vetch'd 'un out.

Puppy had put us all in such a vright, We thought the devil was i' the barn; and nobody

Durst venture o' 'un.

Tur. I am now resolv'd Who shall ha' my daughter.

D. Tur. Who?

A gentleman.

Tur. So methinks. I dare not touch her. She is so fine: yet I will say, God bless her. D. Tur. And I too, my fine daughter. I could love her

Now twice as well as if Clay had her.
Tub. Come, come, my mother is pleas'd:
I pardon all.

Pol-Martin, in and wait upon my lady.
Welcome good guests: see supper be serv'd
in,
[ship.
With all the plenty of the house and wor-
I must confer with Mr. In-and-In
About some alterations in my masque:
Send Hilts out to me; bid him bring the

council

Of Finsbury hither. I'll have such a night Shall make the name of Totten-court immortal:

And be recorded to posterity.

SCENE VII.

Tub, Medlay, Clench, Pan, Scriben, Hilts. Tub. O Mr. In-and-In, what ha' you done?

Med. Survey'd the place, sir, and de-
sign'd the ground,

Or stand-still of the work: and this it is.
First, I have fixed in the earth a tub;
And an old tub, like a saltpetre-tub,
Preluding by your father's name, sir Peter,
And the antiquity of your house and family,
Original from salt-petre.

Tub. Good, y-faith,

[sir.

You ha' shewn reading and antiquity here,
Med. have a little knowledge in design,
Which I can vary, sir, to infinito.

Pub. Ad infinitum, sir, you mean.
Med. I do.

I stand not on my Latin, I'll invent:
But I must be alone then, join'd with no

man.

This we do call the stand-still of our work. Tub. Who are those we you now join'd to yourself?

Med. I mean myself still in the plural number,

And out of this we raise our Tale of a Tub. Tub. No, Mr. In-and-In, my Tale of a

Tub,

By your leave, I am Tub, the Tale's of me,
And
my adventures! I am 'squire Tub,
Subjectum fabula.

Med. But I the author.

Tub. The workman, sir! the artificer! I

grant you.

That pays for all.

Scri. Are you revis'd o' that?

A man may have wit, and yet put off his hat. Med. Now, sir, this Tub I will have capt with paper:

A fine oil'd lanthorn paper that we use. Pan. Yes, every barber, every cutler has it.

Med. Which in it doth contain the light to the business;

And shall with the very vapour of the candle Drive all the motions of our matter about: As we present 'em. For example, first, The worshipful lady Tub.

Tub. Right worshipful,

I pray you, I am worshipful myself.
Med. Your 'squireship's mother passeth
by (her huisher,

Mr. Pol-Martin, bare-headed before her)
In her velvet gown.

Tub. But how shall the spectators, As it might be I, or Hilts, know 'tis my mother?

[her? Or that Pol-Martin, there, that walks before Med. O we do nothing, if we clear not

that.

Cle. You ha' seen none of his works, sir?
Pan. All the postures

Of the train'd bands o' the country.
Scri. All their colours.

Pan. And all their captains.
Cle. All the cries o' the city:
And all the trades i' their habits.
Scri. He has his whistle

Of command, seat of authority!
And virge to interpret, tipt with silver, sir,
You know not him.

Tub. Well, I will leave all to him.

Aied. Give me the brief o' your subject. Leave the whole

State o' the thing to me.

Hil. Supper is ready, sir,

My lady calls for you.

Tub. I'll send it you in writing.

Med. Sir, I will render feazible and facile

What you expect.

Tab. Hilts, be't your care,

To see the wise of Finsbury made welcome: Let 'em want nothing. Is old Rosin sent for? [The 'squire goes out.

Hil. He's come within.
Scri. Lord, what a world of business

The 'squire dispatches!

Med. He's a learned man!

I think there are but vew o' the inns o' court,

Or the inns o' chancery like him.

Cle. Care to fit 'un then. [The rest follow.

But I must go to wait o' my wise master Jack, you shall wait on me, and see the ma [absence I am half lord-chamberlain i' my master Jac. Shall we have a mask ? who makes s Hil. In-and-In,

'The maker of Islington: come go wit To the sage sentences of Finsbury.

SCENE X.

ady, (Preamble before her,) Tub, Turfe, D. Turfe, Pol-Martin, Audrey, Puppy, Wispe, Hugh, Clay; all take their seats. Hills waits on the by.

Lady. Neighbours all welcome: now doth Totten-hall [call'd so. Shew like a court: and hence shall first be Your witty short confession, Mr. Vicar, Within, hath been the prologue, and hath open'd

Much to my son's device, his Tale of a Tub. Tub. Let my masque shew itself: and Inand-In,

The architect appear: I hear the whistle. [Hil. Peace. [Medlay appears above the curtain. Med. Thus rise T first in my light linen breeches,

To run the meaning over in short speeches.
Here is a Tub, a Tub of Totten-court;
An ancient Tub has call'd you to this sport:
His father was a knight, the rich sir Peter;
Who got his wealth by a Tub, and by salt-

petre:

And left all to h's lady Tub, the mother
Of this bold 'squire Tub, and to no other.
Now of this Tub and's deeds, not done in
ale,

Observe, and you shall see the very Tale.
[He draws the curtain, and discovers the
top of the Tub.

The first Motion.

[HR. Ha' peace. Loud musick. Med. Here chanon Hugh first brings to Totten-hall [all; The high constable's council, tells the 'squire Which, though discover'd, (give the devil his due)

The wise of Finsbury do still pursue.
Then with the justice doth he counterplot,
And his clerk Metaphor, to cut that knot:
Whilst lady Tub, in her sad velvet gown,
Missing her son, doth seek him up and down.
Tub. With her Pol-Martin bare before her.
Med. Yes,

I have exprest it here in figure, and Mistress Wispe, her woman, holding up her train. Tub. I' the next page report your second strain.

The second Motion.

[Hil. Ha' peace. Loud musick. Med. Here the high constable and sages walk [maids talk To church; the dame, the daughter, brideOf wedding-business; till a fellow in comes, Relates the robbery of one captain Thuins: Chargeth the bridegroom with it: troubles all, [fall And gets the bride; who in the hands doth Of the bold 'squire; but thence soon is ta'en By the sly justice and his clerk profane, In shape of purs'yvant; which he not long

Holds, but betrays all with his trembling tongue :

As truth will break out and shew, &c.

Tub. O thou hast made him kneel there in a corner,

I see now: there's a simple honour for you, Hilts!

[you? Hil. Did I not make him to confess all to Tub. True, In-and-In hath done you right, you see.

Thy third, I pray thee, witty In-and-In.
Cle. The 'squire commends 'un: he doth
like all well.
This is gear

Pan. He cannot chuse.
made to sell.

The third Motion.

[Hil. Ha' peace. Loud musick. Med. The careful constable here drooping comes

In his deluded search of captain Thums. Puppy brings word his daughter's run away With the tall serving-man. He frights groom Clay

Out of his wits. Returneth then the 'squire, Mocks all their pains, and gives fame out a liar,

For falsely charging Clay, when 'twas the plot

Of subtle Bramble, who had Awdrey got
Into his hand by this winding device.
The father makes a rescue in a trice:
And with his daughter, like St. George on
foot,

Comes home triumphing to his dear heart

root; [there, And tells the lady Tub, whom he meets Of her son's courtesies, the batchelor. Whose words had made 'em fall the hue

and cry. [why When captain Thums coming to ask him, He had so doue? he cannot yield him cause: But so he runs his neck into the laws.

The fourth Motion.

[Hil. Ha' peace. Loud musick. Med. The laws, who have a noose to crack his neck,

As justice Bramble tells him, who doth peck A hundred pound out of his purse, that [Thums.

comes

Like his teeth from him, unto captain
Thums is the vicar in a false disguise;
And employs Metaphor to fetch this prize.
Who tells the secret unto Basket Hilts,
For fear of beating. This the 'squire quilts
Within his cap; and bids him but purloin
The wench for him: they two shall share
the coin.

Which the sage lady in her 'foresaid gown,
Breaks off returning unto Kentish-town,
To seek her Wispe: taking the 'squire along,
Who finds Clay John, as hidden in straw
throng.

Hil. O how am I beholden to th' inventer