(4.) _The Miseries of Inforst Marriage. Playd by his Majesties Servants. Qui alios (seipsum) docet. By George Wilkins. London, Printed by I.N. for Richard Thrale, and are to be sold at his Shop at Pauls gate; next to Cheape-side_. M.DC.XXXVII. 4to. INTRODUCTION. George Wilkins, like many other minor poets of his time, has had no memorials concerning him transmitted to us. He wrote no play alone, except that which is here reprinted; but he joined with John Day and William Rowley in "The Travels of the Three English Brothers, Sir Thomas, Sir Anthony, and Sir Robert Shirley," an historical play, printed in 4to, 1607[325]. He was also the author of "Three Miseries of Barbary: Plague, Famine, Civill warre." [1603.] 4to. B.L.[326] [There was a second writer of both these names, probably a son, who published in 1608 a prose novel, founded on the play of "Pericles."[327]] DRAMATIS PERSONAE[328]. SIR FRANCIS ILFORD. WENTLOE. BARTLEY. WILLIAM SCARBOROW. THOMAS SCARBOROW, | _his brothers_ JOHN SCARBOROW, | SIR JOHN HARCOP. LORD FALCONBRIDGE. SIR WILLIAM SCARBOROW. DOCTOR BAXTER. GRIPE, _the usurer_. _Butler_. _Clown_. _Secretary_. _Steward_. _Page_. _Children_. CLARE, _daughter to Sir John Harcop_. KATHERINE, _wife to William Scarborow_. _Sister to William Scarborow_. THE MISERIES OF ENFORCED MARRIAGE[329]. _Enter_ SIR FRANCIS ILFORD, WENTLOE, _and_ BARTLEY. BAR. But Frank, Frank, now we are come to the house, what shall we make to be our business? ILF. Tut, let us be impudent enough, and good enough. WEN. We have no acquaintance here, but young Scarborow. ILF. How no acquaintance? Angels guard me from thy company. I tell thee, Wentloe, thou art not worthy to wear gilt spurs[330], clean linen, nor good clothes. WEN. Why, for God's sake? ILF. By this hand, thou art not a man fit to table at an ordinary, keep knights company to bawdy-houses, nor beggar thy tailor. WEN. Why, then, I am free from cheaters, clear from the pox, and escape curses. ILF. Why, dost thou think there is any Christians in the world? WEN. Ay, and Jews too, brokers, puritans, and sergeants. ILF. Or dost thou mean to beg after charity, that goes in a cold suit already, that thou talkest thou hast no acquaintance here? I tell thee, Wentloe, thou canst not live on this side of the world, feed well, drink tobacco[331], and be honoured into the presence, but thou must be acquainted with all sorts of men; ay, and so far in too, till they desire to be more acquainted with thee. BAR. True, and then you shall be accounted a gallant of good credit. _Enter_ CLOWN. ILF. But stay, here is a scrape-trencher arrived: How now, blue-bottle,[332] are you of the house? CLOWN. I have heard of many black-jacks, sir, but never of a blue-bottle. ILF. Well, sir, are you of the house? CLOWN. No, sir, I am twenty yards without, and the house stands without me. BAR. Prythee, tell's who owes[333] this building? CLOWN. He that dwells in it, sir.