_Cham._ We to our cost have, But will you search the wood?
_Pro._ It is beset, They cannot scape us, nothing makes me wonder, So much as having you within their power They let you goe; it was a Courtesy, That French thieves use not often, I much pity The Gentle Ladies, yet I know not how, I rather hope than fear.
_Enter_ Dinant, Cleremont, Verdone, Beaupre, Lamira, Anabel, Charlote, _Nurse_.
Are these the prisoners?
_Din._ We were such.
_Verd._ Kill me not, excess of joy.
_Cham._ I see thou livest, but hast thou had no foul play?
_Lam._ No on my soul, my usage hath been n.o.ble, Far from all violence.
_Cham._ How were you freed?
But kiss me first, we"l talk of that at leasure, I am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off, As you knew me not?
_Ana._ Sir, I am where I owe most duty.
_Cler._ "Tis indeed most true Sir, The man that should have been your bedfellow Your Lordships bedfellow, that could not smell out A Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool, To make you merry, this poor simple fellow Has met the maid again, and now she knows He is a man.
_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?
_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable, Heaven is a witness of our happy contract, And the next Priest we meet shall warrant it To all the world: I lay with her in jeast, "Tis turn"d to earnest now.
_Cham._ Is this true, Niece?
_Din._ Her blushing silence grants it; nay Sir storm not, He is my friend, and I can make this good, His birth and fortunes equal hers, your Lordship Might have sought out a worse, we are all friends too, All differences end thus. Now Sir, unless You would raise new dissentions, make perfect What is so well begun.
_Vert._ That were not manly.
_Lam._ Let me perswade you.
_Cham._ Well G.o.d give you joy, She shall not come a Begger to you Sir.
For you Monsieur _Dinant_ "ere long I"le shew you Another Niece, to this not much inferiour, As you shall like proceed.
_Din._ I thank you Sir.
_Cham._ Back then to _Paris_: well that travel ends That makes of deadly enemies perfect friends.
[_Exeunt omnes._
Prologue.
_To promise much, before a play begin, And when "tis done, ask pardon, were a sin We"l not be guilty of: and to excuse Before we know a fault, were to abuse The writers and our selves, for I dare say We all are fool"d if this be not a Play, And such a play as shall (so should plays do) Imp times dull wings, and make you merry too.
"Twas to that purpose writ, so we intend it And we have our wisht ends, if you commend it._
Epilogue.
Gentlemen,
_I am sent forth to enquire what you decree } Of us and of our Poets, they will be } This night exceeding merry, so will we } If you approve their labours. They profess You are their Patrons, and we say no less, Resolve us then, for you can only tell Whether we have done id"ly or done well._