_Dutch._ Chuse one of these, either to pay a Ransom, At what [rate] I shall set it, which shall be high enough, And so return a Free-man, and a Batchelor, Or give me leave to give you a fit wife, In honor every way [your] Graces equal, And so your Ransom's paid. _Sy._ You say most nobly, _Silvio_'s example's mine, pray chuse you for me. _Dutch._ I thank ye Sir, I have got the mastry too, And here I give your Grace a Husbands freedom: Give me your hand, my Husband. _Sy._ You much honor me, And I shall ever serve ye for this favour. _Bart._ Come _Lop[e]z_, let us give our wives the breeches too, For they will have 'em. _Lop._ Whilst they rule with virtue I'll give 'em, skin and all. _Isa._ We'll scra[t]ch it off else. _Sil._ I am glad ye live, more glad ye live to honor, And from this hour a stronger love dwell with us; Pray you take your man again. _Cla._ He knows my house, Sir. _Dutch._ 'Tis sin to keep you longer from your loves, We'll lead the way; and you young men that know not How to preserve a wife, and keep her fair, Give 'em their soveraign Wills, and pleas'd they are. _Here endeth_ Women pleas'd. THE NIGHT-WALKER, OR THE LITTLE THIEF. A Comedy. The Actors Names. _Tom Lurcher._ _Jack Wildbrain._ _Gentlemen._ _Justice Algripe._ _Frank Hartlove._ _Toby._ _Servants._ _Sexton._ _Bell-Ringers._ _Boy._ _A Lady, Mother to_ Maria. _Maria._ _Nurse._ _Mistriss_ Newlove. _Women._ _Mistriss._ _Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._ _Enter_ Tom Lurcher, _and_ Jack Wild-brain. _Lur. Jack._ _Wild._ What wind brought thee hither? In what [old] hollow tree, or rotten wall Hast thou been like a Swallow all this winter, Where hast thou been man? _Lur._ Following the Plow. _Wild._ What Plow? Thou hast no Land, Stealing is thy own purchase. _Lur._ The best inheritance. _Wild._ Not in my opinion, Thou hadst five hundred pound a year. _Lur._ 'Tis gone, Prethee no more on't, have I not told thee, And oftentimes, nature made all men equal, Her distribution to each child alike; Till labour came and thrust a new Will in, Which I allow not: till men won a priviledge By that they call endeavour, which indeed Is nothing but a lawful Cosenage, An allowed way to cheat, why should my neigh[bou]r That hath no more soul than his Horse-keeper, Nor bounteous faculties above a Broom-man, Have forty thousand pounds, and I four groats; Why should he keep it? _Wi[l]._ Thy old opinion still.