Like billets saw'd and ready for the fire,
Unworthy to hold fellowship with bright gold,
That flow'd about the room, conceal'd itself.
There needs no artificial light, the splendor
Makes a perpetual day there, night and darkness
By that still-burning lamp for ever banish'd.
But when, guided by that, my eyes had made
Discovery of the caskets, and they open'd,
Each sparkling diamond from itself shot forth
A pyramid of flames, and in the roof
Fix'd it a glorious star, and made the place
Heaven's abstract, or epitome; Rubies, sapphires,
And robes of orient pearl, these seen, I could not
But look on gold with contempt. And yet I found,
What weak credulity could have no faith in,
A treasure far exceeding these. Here lay
A manor bound fast in a skin of parchment ;
The wax continuing hard, the acres melting.
Here a sure deed of gift for a market town,
If not redeem'd this day; which is not in

The unthrift's power. There being scarce one shire
In Wales or England, where my monies are not

Lent out at usury, the certain hook

To draw in more.

The extravagance of the City Madams aping court fashions repre

hended.

Luke, having come into the possession of his brother Sir John Frugal's estates. Lady, wife to Sir John Frugal, and two daughters, in homely attire.

Luke, Save you, sister;

I now dare style you so. You were before

Too glorious to be look'd on: now you appear

Like a city matron, and my pretty nieces

Such things

As they were born and bred there. Why should you ape

The fashions of court ladies, whose high titles

And pedigrees of long descent give warrant

For their superfluous bravery? 'twas monstrous.
Till now you ne'er look'd lovely.

Lady. Is this spoken

In scorn?

Luke. Fie, no; with judgment, I make good My promise, and now show you like yourselves, In your own natural shapes.

Lady. We acknowledge

We have deserv'd ill from you,* yet despair not,
Though we 're at your disposure, you'll maintain us
Like your brother's wife and daughters.

Luke. 'Tis my purpose.

Lady. And not make us ridiculous.

Luke. Admir'd rather

As fair examples for our proud city dames
And their proud brood to imitate. Hear
Gently, and in gentle phrase I'll reprehend
Your late disguis'd deformity.

Your father was

An honest country farmer, Goodman Humble,

By his neighbors ne'er call'd master. Did your pride
Descend from him? but let that pass. Your fortune,
Or rather your husband's industry, advanc'd you
To the rank of merchant's wife. He made a knight,
And your sweet mistress-ship ladyfy'd, you wore
Satin on solemn days, a chain of gold,

A velvet hood, rich borders, and sometimes

A dainty miniver cap, a silver pin

Headed with a pearl worth three-pence; and thus far
You were privileg'd, and no man envied it :

It being for the city's honor that

There should be distinction between

The wife of a patrician and a plebeian.

But when the height

And dignity of London's blessings grew

*

In his dependent state they had treated him very cruelly. They are now dependent on him.

Contemptible, and the name lady mayoress
Became a by-word, and you scorn'd the means
By which you were rais'd (my brother's fond indulgence
Giving the reins to 't) and no object pleas'd you
But the glitt'ring pomp and bravery of the court;
What a strange, nay monstrous metamorphosis follow'd!
No English workmen then could please your fancy;
The French and Tuscan dress, your whole discourse;
This bawd to prodigality entertain❜d,

To buz into your ears, what shape this countess
Appear'd in, the last mask; and how it drew

The young lord's eyes upon her and this usher

Succeeded in the eldest 'prentice's place,

To walk before you. Then, as I said

(The reverend hood cast off), your borrow'd hair,
Powder'd and curl'd, was by your dresser's art
Form'd like a coronet, hang'd with diamonds,
And the richest orient pearl: your carkanets,
That did adorn your neck, of equal value; .
Your Hungerland bands, and Spanish Quellio ruffs:
Great lords and ladies feasted, to survey
Embroider'd petticoats; and sickness feign'd,
That your nightrails of forty pounds a-piece
Might be seen with envy of the visitants :
Rich pantables in ostentation shown,

And roses worth a family. You were serv'd

In plate;

Stirr'd not a foot without a coach; and going
To church, not for devotion, but to show

Your pomp, you were tickled when the beggars cried
Heaven save your honor. This idolatry
Paid to a painted room. And, when you lay
In childbed, at the christening of this minx,
I well remember it, as you had been

An absolute princess (since they have no more)
Three several chambers hung: the first with arras,
And that for waiters; the second, crimson satin,
For the meaner sort of guests; the third of scarlet

Of the rich Tyrian dye: a canopy

To cover the brat's cradle; you in state,

Like Pompey's Julia.

Lady. No more, I pray you.

Luke. Of this be sure you shall not. I'll cut off Whatever is exorbitant in you,

Or in your daughters; and reduce you to

Your natural forms and habits: not in revenge
of me; but to fright

Of your base usage
Others by your example.

[This bitter satire against the city women for aping the fashions of the court ladies, must have been peculiarly gratifying to the females of the Herbert family and the rest of Massinger's noble patrons and patronesses.

A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS: A COMEDY. BY PHILIP MASSINGER.

Overreach (a cruel extortioner) treats about marrying his daughter with Lord Lovell.

Over. To my wish we are private.

I come not to make offer with my daughter
A certain portion; that were poor and trivial:
In one word I pronounce all that is mine,

In lands or leases, ready coin or goods,

With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall you have
One motive to induce you to believe

I live too long, since every year I'll add

Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too.
Lov. You are a right kind father.

Over. You shall have reason

To think me such. How do you like this seat?
It is well-wooded and well-water'd, the acres
Fertile and rich: would it not serve for change,
To entertain your friends in a summer's progress?
What thinks my noble lord?

Lov. 'Tis a wholesome air,

And well built, and she,* that is mistress of it,
Worthy the large revenues.

Over. She the mistress?

It may be so for a time: but let my

lord

Say only that he but like it, and would have it;

I

say, ere long 'tis his.

Lov. Impossible.

Over. You do conclude too fast; not knowing me, Nor the engines that I work by. 'Tis not alone The lady Allworth's lands: but point out any man's In all the shire, and say they lie convenient And useful for your lordship; and once more I say aloud, they are yours.

Lov. I dare not own

What's by unjust and cruel means extorted :
My fame and credit are more dear to me,
Than so to expose 'em to be censur'd by
The public voice.

Over. You run, my lord, no hazard:
Your reputation shall stand as fair
In all good men's opinions as now:
Nor can my actions, though condemn'd for ill,
Cast any foul aspersion upon yours.
For though I do contemn report myself,
As a mere sound; I still will be so tender
Of what concerns you in all points of honor,
That the immaculate whiteness of your fame,
Nor your unquestioned integrity,

Shall e'er be sullied with one taint or spot
That may take from your innocence and candor.
As my ambition is to have my daughter
Right honorable; which my lord can make her:
And might I live to dance upon my
knee

A young lord Lovell, born by her unto you,
I write nil ultra to my proudest hopes.